[ The slight interest in his expression probably makes it clear how curious he is about the differences between their worlds, if the fact that he's leaning in a little closer isn't obvious enough. He'd tried to restrain himself from asking too much with Wangji and Wei Wuxian, when he first got here, reasoning that he'd spent too much time in seclusion thinking about what ifs, about how things might have changed if he'd only done something different.

But that doesn't mean he doesn't want to know. And yes, it's certainly true that he can't be sure which timeline the Meng Yao here is from, what the specifics of his future might have held if he hadn't been brought here. It could be a mix of theirs, or something entirely different, and it's good to remember that - only it registers only dimly, because Lan Xichen's mind catches and stalls when Mingjue speaks of his torture.

He isn't sure why it's this that sends cracks through his composure. They've already spoken of Mingjue's death, of Lan Xichen's own involvement in it, of the planned strike and Mingjue's capture - but somehow it's the words my own torture that brings back memories of pulling Mingjue into his lap right there in Wen Ruohan's throne room when the battle was won, refusing to leave until he woke up, and tangles them all up with the last stages of his qi deviation. Before he's quite aware of it happening, he finds that he has reached out. One hand on Mingjue's shoulder, fingers curling in, and the other on his chest, palm pressed to his heart so he can feel it beating. ]

It is still true for me as well.

[ He clears his throat as he withdraws, glancing away briefly as he tucks one hand behind his back, and refocuses back on the topic at hand. Meng Yao, and convincing him not to play with people's lives. ]

Yes. Yes, that's what I hoped. There is no need to sacrifice others to obtain the security he needs, and there are always other choices even when he can only see one.