Years went by and when he went to Stanford, Lan XiChen surprised everyone in a double major in Education and Educational Administration. Then he received a doctorate in psychology. Just as his parents were beginning to wonder if he was becoming a professional student, he took a position at his Alma Mater as a freshman advisor at Stanford. His mother and father no longer second-guessed their brilliant son, they had never clipped his wings, so they trusted that he would land safely there and thrive.

Under the attention and care that he provided since Lan Zhan's death, Wei Ying began to deal with his grief in a small measure, however, he remained at loose ends of what he wanted to do and how he needed to achieve his nebulous goals. Lan XiChen again, threw out a lifeline. He persuaded Wei Ying's parents to end their years of helicopter parenting and offered to submit Wei Ying's transcripts and application to his place of employment. And Wei Ying found himself nervously ensconced in a dorm room. 

He had grown up as a quiet youth. His nature was subdued, and he was given a small room, in a corner of an older dorm, and he loved the privacy he had. Luckily, there was no roommate to claim the second bed. He tended to his studies, devoted to making his mentor proud. But mingle? Trust the fates any further than his friendship with Lan XiChen? No. Once he had done that, and now, after the drowning of his best friend, he did not extend that privilege to another soul. He felt like half a human being after that horrible day, and he refused to let anyone else fill that void. It would feel like he was committing a sin of betrayal that could never be expunged.

And every Saturday, he would ride his bike fifteen miles to the Botanical Gardens, rent a tiny boat and drift the slow waters near and under the Monet Bridge, peering into the green depths looking for a glimpse of a face that had been lost for years.  Now in his final year at Stanford, majoring in music with an emphasis on flute performance, he was seriously considering grad school. He hated change. In fact, a wide-open future terrified him.

He thought he might be crazy, but Lan XiChen reassured him that he was not. Grief, he told him, has no set time limits.

"But Lan Xi Chen, it is not just that I hope I will see him looking back at me it..it...is more. "

"In what way, little Brother?" The young man's Eyes avoid his gaze.  "Anything you tell me, I will believe."

Wei Ying chewed his bottom lip and Lan XiChen became sadder as he watched. He could remember the child's version of that lovely face, wreathed in only happy grins and mischief, When? 17-18 years ago? He had not seen it since, and he considered it a major failure by not having had the power to call it back. It was as if he had failed his brother as well.

Wei Ying sighed. "I keep having dreams, but not dreams. Vision, but touched with reality. I think I am losing it. I really do."

With a chill running down his spine, he knew what was about to happen and the older man felt sick to his stomach. He couldn't...He simply couldn't.

Yet who else could?

He stood and walked over to the microwave. He poured water into two mugs added teabags and popped them into the device.

"I am making us both some tea. Wei Ying, I will talk about this with you in a half hour. But first tea and some meditation. I have something you need to know, but not until you are completely  calm and centered."

Wei Ying whipped his head around. "Oh God, this is going to be bad isn't it?"

Lan Xi Chen smiled wryly. "Parts will be. But parts will be filled with glorious light as well. It is a story of great love, sacrifice, and an enormous quest. Just remember, you are sane.  It is the story of you and Lan Zhan"

He walked back to face great and apprehensive gray eyes. 

"Drink. Meditate. Then, talk."