March 19th, Year 109
Wuxian bit his lower lip as he took a sip of the soup he was making before pouting. The taste wasn’t really there, and he feels that it should be more...smooth, more something. He handed a bit to Xiao and asked her opinion, to which, she agreed—the taste was different. Maybe a bit more spice could help?
Wuxian hummed as he added some spices into the soup—not too much because this soup...was meant to be precious. It was to honor his sister and the soup she always made for him and Jiang Cheng. Lotus root and pork ribs.
It was in moments like these, he wondered what would have happened if his siblings were here; from before his...resurrection. Would they recognize him? Would they want to stay with him and Wangji? Would they have their own daemons? Would the daemons recognize Xiao? It made him wonder as Xiao said that daemons are always there, but cannot be seen in some worlds. Would that mean that Xiao is his own daemon or Mo Xuanyu’s? He has the man’s body but the daemons are people’s souls—so, it’d make sense that their daemons would be different since it was his soul in another’s body.
Xiao shrugged when he asked if that was the case. “Probably? I don’t remember anything from Mo Xuanyu. I remember our childhood and our youth...but after the Sunshot Campaign, things are...blurry. Which is to be expected, I guess. We did die.”
Wuxian nodded absently as he focused on the soup. His death was...a strange matter. One he’d rather not think about now when he was trying to get this soup just right.
Wuxian paused as he stirred the soup and looked out the window from the kitchen; the sun had long set and he already lit the lanterns around their home. He’s been trying to perfect it since Wangji left this morning with Yun, trying to search for Sizhui. The young lad had left to travel a bit, however, they haven’t received any messages since—Sizhui always left a note for Wangji or telling him where he was going or what he’d do.
“I’m sure they’re fine.” Wuxian said dismissively, even though his smile was a bit forced. The young man knew the reality of this situation: that Wangji and Yun wouldn’t find Sizhui; that the young boy had more than likely left from Pandora and was back home. Safe and sound...with his mother and Wangji’s wife.
“They usually come home earlier. You know how Lan Zhan’s sleeping schedule is.”