[For a long time, Meng Yao doesn’t answer Xichen. It gets to a point where one might think he’d been struck temporarily deaf and hadn’t heard the question at all, but his hands that had been tightly curled into Xichen’s robes relax and spread out.]
I’m not avoiding answering. [He speaks up at length, tone a bit sheepish and apologetic] I’m trying to think of how to explain it. Please, bear with me.
[He falls quiet again for a few seconds before sighing softly.] ...Jin Guangyao... Having ambition shouldn’t be a bad thing. Wanting to climb high and be the best shouldn't be discouraged. But... He was too blinded by that ambition. Climbing to the top by more honest means shouldn't leave one so paralyzed with fear. Fear ruled more decisions than not. I was terrified, all the time and could hardly trust even myself at times and too afraid to reach out to the people who could have helped. I didn’t want to accept that help, or the acknowledgement of failure.
But Guangyao did many good things as well. Caring for the common people, seeing that they were taken care of and treated as well as they could... I won’t regret those things, even if the means of achieving it are regretful. [He won’t despair over the outcome that brought security to those less fortunate that were so often overlooked by those in power, but he could lament the blood he’d shed to get there.]
But I think those things came from ‘Meng Yao.’ ‘Meng Yao,’ who remembered life in the gutter, in the brothel. I have forgotten too much about— [He pauses, cutting himself off as if realizing something and pushes away from Xichen lightly. It’s not to completely pull away, but he needs the space a moment to work through something, brow furrowed and his lower lip worried between his teeth as he smooths flat the threads of his thoughts, hands flat against Xichen’s chest] No... it’s more like... ‘Guangyao’ cared too much about where ‘Meng Yao’ had started, and was too afraid of being in the gutter again. It’s hard to come to terms with drinking water when one’s grown too used to tea.
I never forgot where I came from. The problem was I remembered it too much. Guangyao... had hated Meng Yao so much, he would have destroyed every trace of him if he could. [Talking about himself in both the first and third person was strange, but he didn’t quite feel like either person at the moment either.
There’s a pause and when he speaks it’s softer, miserable with realization. His fingers curl into Xichen’s robes, shaking slightly.] I think... I’d become the people I’d feared the most. The person who most couldn’t see past my origins was myself.
no subject
I’m not avoiding answering. [He speaks up at length, tone a bit sheepish and apologetic] I’m trying to think of how to explain it. Please, bear with me.
[He falls quiet again for a few seconds before sighing softly.] ...Jin Guangyao... Having ambition shouldn’t be a bad thing. Wanting to climb high and be the best shouldn't be discouraged. But... He was too blinded by that ambition. Climbing to the top by more honest means shouldn't leave one so paralyzed with fear. Fear ruled more decisions than not. I was terrified, all the time and could hardly trust even myself at times and too afraid to reach out to the people who could have helped. I didn’t want to accept that help, or the acknowledgement of failure.
But Guangyao did many good things as well. Caring for the common people, seeing that they were taken care of and treated as well as they could... I won’t regret those things, even if the means of achieving it are regretful. [He won’t despair over the outcome that brought security to those less fortunate that were so often overlooked by those in power, but he could lament the blood he’d shed to get there.]
But I think those things came from ‘Meng Yao.’ ‘Meng Yao,’ who remembered life in the gutter, in the brothel. I have forgotten too much about— [He pauses, cutting himself off as if realizing something and pushes away from Xichen lightly. It’s not to completely pull away, but he needs the space a moment to work through something, brow furrowed and his lower lip worried between his teeth as he smooths flat the threads of his thoughts, hands flat against Xichen’s chest] No... it’s more like... ‘Guangyao’ cared too much about where ‘Meng Yao’ had started, and was too afraid of being in the gutter again. It’s hard to come to terms with drinking water when one’s grown too used to tea.
I never forgot where I came from. The problem was I remembered it too much. Guangyao... had hated Meng Yao so much, he would have destroyed every trace of him if he could. [Talking about himself in both the first and third person was strange, but he didn’t quite feel like either person at the moment either.
There’s a pause and when he speaks it’s softer, miserable with realization. His fingers curl into Xichen’s robes, shaking slightly.] I think... I’d become the people I’d feared the most. The person who most couldn’t see past my origins was myself.