Chapter Text
“—and as you read from pages 120 to 126, I want you all to think about the symbolism of transformation in the protagonist’s journey,” the teacher continued, his voice as flat as chalk dust.
“Who can give me one example?”
Wei Ying didn’t look up, he already knew who was going to be called.
“Wei Wuxian?”
There it was.
He straightened with practiced ease, twisting in his seat just enough to flash his usual lopsided grin toward the front of the class.
“Transformation, huh?” His voice was easy, light. He tapped his fingers on he desk as if mulling it over. “Well, I think the author’s saying people aren’t really changing, they’re just showing you a different side they kept hidden. Like snakes shedding skin.”
There was a pause, some students snickered. Well, Teacher Lan didn’t.
“Wei Wuxian,” Teacher Yang sighed, adjusting his glasses, “That’s not quite the transformation we’re discussing.”
Wei Ying shrugged with a grin. “Can’t help it, sir. That was just the first thing that came to mind.”
The teacher moved on, but not before muttering something about “attitude issues.”
Beside him, Nie Huaisang leaned in with a smirk, whispering, “Snakes? Really, Wei-xiong?”
Wei Ying chuckled, shifting his gaze out the window again. “Seemed appropriate.”
Huaisang’s voice dropped slightly. “You okay, though? You’ve been kind of… off lately.”
Wei Ying blinked, then looked at Huaisang properly. The older boy wasn’t being nosy, he genuinely looked concerned. His pencil hovered halfway over his sketchpad, forgotten.
“Off? Me?” Wei Ying gave a dramatic gasp. “Huaisang, are you losing faith in my sparkling personality?”
Huaisang rolled his eyes, but his lips twitched.
“Please. Your personality is loud enough to announce itself three rooms away. I just meant… you’re quieter. Not your usual thinking quiet, but like… your fake quiet.”
Wei Ying’s smile didn’t waver, but his fingers curled slightly on the edge of the desk. “Maybe i just went through a transformation” he said lightly.
“Like the snake."
Break time came, and the courtyard filled with laughter and rustling lunch bags.
Wei Ying sat beneath a sakura tree, his back to the trunk, sketchbook open on his knees. Not really drawing anything, just flipping through blank pages. From a few meters away, Jiang Cheng threw a plastic bottle at him.
“Ow,” Wei Ying said as it bounced off his shoulder. “That was uncalled for.”
“You’re late again,” Jiang Cheng said, arms crossed. “You missed morning assembly, that’s the third time this week.”
Wei Ying waved a hand lazily. “Come on, Cheng Cheng, you know how the subway hates me.”
"That’s because you always refused to leave the house with me and prefer sleep till five minutes before the bus arrives,”
Jiang Cheng snapped. “Just get in the car next time!”
“And miss my beauty sleep?”
Jiang Cheng scowled, but didn’t argue further. He walked over, plopping down beside him. After a moment of silence, he added quietly, “Dad asked about you last night, he asked why you skip family dinner again.”
“Wasn’t hungry,” Wei Ying replied, still flipping his empty pages. “Tell him not to worry. I had instant noodles.”
Jiang Cheng frowned but said nothing. Wei Ying didn’t offer more.
They sat like that for a while, quiet except for the sound of wind through blossoms. It wasn’t awkward, not really. But there were gaps that Wei Ying knew were growing, even if he didn’t know how to fill them.
The school bell rang, too loud for his liking. Like it was trying to shake the air into motion. Students began packing their bags for lunch break, chairs scraping across the tiled floor, chatter rising into a dull roar.
Wei Ying just lingered, he didn’t want to go back to the classroom.
His sneakers made soft scuffs on the floor as he wandered toward the rooftop staircase. The door was usually locked, but he had found a way around, just a little pressure in the right place on the frame, a twist of the knob, and it gave way with a reluctant click.
The wind was stronger up here. It tousled his hair and whipped at the corners of his shirt as he stepped out into the sunlight. A thin metal railing bordered the edge, and the world below stretched out. Students milling about, cherry blossoms spinning in the air like dying stars.
He sat down with his back against the concrete wall, drawing his knees up and tucking his chin over them. Out here, no one expected him to smile.
His fingers absently went to his chest, hovering just above the fabric of his uniform shirt. He could feel the faint warmth of his skin beneath, the barely there throb of the mark etched into his right chest, curling like inked shadows over his bone.
He remembered. He remembered everything.
Wei Ying closed his eyes. A sound pulled him back, a soft knock of shoes on metal steps. He tensed for a moment, instinct crawling into his bones, before a familiar voice floated over.
"Hey, Wei-xiong?”
He cracked open one eye. “Nie-Xiong. Skipping class or stalking me?”
“I prefer the term spiritually supporting my friend who just saying still acting weird in my opinion,” Nie Huaisang said lightly, holding up a plastic bag. “I come bearing sweets.”
Wei Ying gave a small laugh, waving him over. “You spoil me.”
“That’s the goal,” Huaisang grinned and plopped down beside him, cross-legged and pink-cheeked from the climb. “You looked like you needed some fresh air earlier, thought I’d bring you something.”
He pulled out a pair of melon bread buns, handing one over.
Wei Ying accepted it but didn’t unwrap it right away.
“Everything okay?” Huaisang asked gently, not pressing too hard.
Wei Ying smiled, the kind of soft, practiced smile that didn’t reach the corners of his eyes. “I just needed some space. That classroom felt… tight today.”
Huaisang nodded. “Yeah, sometimes it does that.”
A long pause followed. Huaisang nibbled at his bread while Wei Ying just held his in his hands.
Huaisang sat down beside him, a little hesitant, like he was afraid he might be intruding. He didn’t ask why Wei Ying was up here alone, he didn’t push. That was why Wei Ying liked him. He waited.
“Want to know something new?” Huaisang said after a moment, opening the bread and tearing off a piece.
Wei Ying stretched out his legs. “Always.”
Huaisang took a breath. “My brother and his team is working on a new case right now. Like, serious serious. They found another illegal orphanage. Not just neglect… but like the actual trafficking.”
Wei Ying’s grip on the bread tightened a little, fingers curling. He kept his gaze fixed on the skyline.
“The new kid they rescued is not talking much, but he said something weird, that the people running this place used to work somewhere else before. And that got my brother digging around.”
Another pause.
“They’re reopening the old case. You remember that one? The one from years ago? With the orphanage that got shut down because of similar stuff?”
Wei Ying let out a low breath. “Yeah, I think I remember seeing it on the news.”
“Right?” Huaisang frowned. “Da-ge always said they thought the big boss got away, but the police only managed to arrest the second-in-command at the time. Now, it looks like the real mastermind’s still out there.”
Wei Ying didn’t respond right away. His body didn’t move, but his smile dropped a fraction. It wasn’t visible unless you were looking for it. Wei Ying’s heart beat too loudly in his ears. Seven years ago, That was then. That was his caged.
Huaisang nudged his shoulder gently. “Wei-xiong?”
“…Yeah,” Wei Ying said, voice soft and carefully even. “That’s… crazy.”
“Right? Da -ge is already pulling all the old files out of storage. “He said some of them are messed up.”
Huaisang chewed his bottom lip thoughtfully. “He said they’re calling in Lan Xichen too, you know your Lan Wangji's brother. That guy’s like… the best Agent specialize in trauma counselor in the nation. Really close with my brother. They’re hoping the victim will open up more to him.”
“…That’s good,” Wei Ying said, finally, voice quiet. “If someone’s still out there, they shouldn’t get away with it.”
“Right?” Huaisang leaned back against the wall. “It’s crazy, though, you think you shut one thing down, and it just grows back somewhere else.”
Wei Ying’s fingers had gone slack around the bread. There was something far-off in his expression, like his mind had traveled somewhere his body didn’t want to follow. But Huaisang didn’t notice, he just kept talking, filling the silence.
“Anyway, I think it’s kind of amazing. That the victim had the courage to speak up, even a little. If it were me, I think I’d just shut down and forget it forever.”
Wei Ying’s breath caught, so quietly it almost wasn’t there.
“…Yeah,” he said. “They’re brave.”
Wei Ying nodded slowly, his gaze fixed on the sky. His fingers dug slightly into the concrete beside him. He didn’t know this new victim. But he knew that pain. The kind that curled under your ribs and refused to let go. The kind that whispered nightmare
You should’ve said something. You should’ve done something. You should’ve-
“You okay?” Huaisang asked again, softer this time.
Wei Ying smiled at him, smaller, gentler.
“Yeah,” he said. “Just… didn’t expect to hear about that today.”
“Yeah sorry, kinda grim topic,” Huaisang said, wrapping the rest of the bread in the plastic again and nudging it into Wei Ying’s hands.
That night, Wei Ying lay in bed staring at the ceiling.
The glow-in-the-dark stars Jiang Yanli had stuck up there when they were young, it starting to peel at the corners. One dangled from a thread of adhesive, wobbling with every shift in the air.
His phone sat dark on the nightstand beside him, he hadn’t touched it since getting home.
The voices from dinner echoed in his ears, casual talk from Madam Yu and Jiang Fengmian about recent news. The news about the orphanage case also has reached the, since Jiang Fengmian also works in the justice system, a new victim, reinvestigation and Lan Xichen involvement had been mentioned.
Wei Ying had stayed quiet, head bowed over his rice, eyes on his chopsticks.
He could feel the three-wing mark on his chest ache again. Like it had weight. Like it had teeth tgat tried to consume him.
He curled onto his side and pulled the blanket over his head.
He didn’t cry, his tears already drained from him years ago.
Now he just breathed, because sometimes he forgot to do that.