Lan Xichen has been trained in reading poetry with good enunciation and depth of expression, and so his voice when he reads is very beautiful.

"There was once a velveteen rabbit, and in the beginning he was really splendid. He was fat and bunchy, as a rabbit should be; his coat was spotted brown and white, he had real thread whiskers, and his ears were lined with pink sateen. On Christmas morning, when he sat wedged in the top of the Boy's stocking, with a sprig of holly between his paws, the effect was charming.

"There were other things in the stocking, nuts and oranges and a toy engine, and chocolate almonds and a clockwork mouse, but the Rabbit was quite the best of all. For at least two hours the Boy loved him, and then Aunts and Uncles came to dinner, and there was a great rustling of tissue paper and unwrapping of parcels, and in the excitement of looking at all the new presents the Velveteen Rabbit was forgotten.

"For a long time he lived in the toy cupboard or on the nursery floor, and no one thought very much about him. He was naturally shy, and being only made of velveteen, some of the more expensive toys quite snubbed him. The mechanical toys were very superior, and looked down upon every one else; they were full of modern ideas, and pretended they were real. The model boat, who had lived through two seasons and lost most of his paint, caught the tone from them and never missed an opportunity of referring to his rigging in technical terms. The Rabbit could not claim to be a model of anything, for he didn't know that real rabbits existed; he thought they were all stuffed with sawdust like himself, and he understood that sawdust was quite out-of-date and should never be mentioned in modern circles. Even Timothy, the jointed wooden lion, who was made by the disabled soldiers, and should have had broader views, put on airs and pretended he was connected with Government. Between them all the poor little Rabbit was made to feel himself very insignificant and commonplace, and the only person who was kind to him at all was the Skin Horse."

Masozi has no idea what 'velveteen' means, and has also never heard of the concept of Christmas. This means that he spends the first several sentences of the story being VERY CONFUSED and - pretty sure that the rabbit is going to end up being drained by a maleficer? 

....Okay wait what. Why are they talking about nuts and oranges? - why would anyone make a toy engine what does that even MEAN? 

- he knows the words in English for 'aunts' and 'uncles' but he's never had any. Because they were dead before he could ever meet them. 

....okay wait what he thought the rabbit was actually just a toy? Why is the story talking about it like the rabbit is alive???

(It's fine. Everything is fine. The entire world is very confusing but he just needs to snuggle up closer against Lan Xichen and - maybe hold his hand? If that's not getting in the way of reading the book?) 

- huh is this some kind of weird metaphor about artificing being better than alchemy as a track? 

Masozi is pretty sure that he's seen sawdust exist right in front of him, before? He doesn't really follow what 'out of date' means. This story is incredibly confusing! 

(And surprisingly emotional, despite that. He finds himself squeezing Lan Xichen's hand tightly.) 

Okay wait, what. 

"- Sorry what's a 'Skin Horse?'"

Eeeeeeeee handholding. (Romantic thoughts go into the box and he can talk about them with Meng Yao later.)

"It's toy horse made of animal skin instead of cloth."

"Oh. Right." 

This is still pretty confusing but Masozi will go along with hearing the rest of the story! He's invested in it now!

"The Skin Horse had lived longer in the nursery than any of the others. He was so old that his brown coat was bald in patches and showed the seams underneath, and most of the hairs in his tail had been pulled out to string bead necklaces. He was wise, for he had seen a long succession of mechanical toys arrive to boast and swagger, and by-and-by break their mainsprings and pass away, and he knew that they were only toys, and would never turn into anything else. For nursery magic is very strange and wonderful, and only those playthings that are old and wise and experienced like the Skin Horse understand all about it.

"What is REAL?" asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. "Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?"

"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real."

"Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit.

"Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt.""

....This continues to be very confusing! In a surprisingly emotionally intense way! 

Masozi - isn't sure whether he agrees or disagrees with the rabbit main character of the story? It seems like some kinds of hurting are - important and he wouldn't want to shut them away - but he's still really confused about the 'being loved and then being real' kind of hurt??? 

Instead of saying any words he is apparently going to cling to Lan Xichen about it.

It is quite satisfying to have Masozi cling to him while he reads him a story.

""Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?"

"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."

"I suppose you are real?" said the Rabbit. And then he wished he had not said it, for he thought the Skin Horse might be sensitive. But the Skin Horse only smiled.

"The Boy's Uncle made me Real," he said. "That was a great many years ago; but once you are Real you can't become unreal again. It lasts for always."

The Rabbit sighed. He thought it would be a long time before this magic called Real happened to him. He longed to become Real, to know what it felt like; and yet the idea of growing shabby and losing his eyes and whiskers was rather sad. He wished that he could become it without these uncomfortable things happening to him."

Masozi was trying very hard to process any of that! But mostly it's pointing him toward emotions that...are not helpful right now...

- maybe snuggling up even closer to Lan Xichen will help him accomplish his goals? 

He snuggles. 

"There was a person called Nana who ruled the nursery. Sometimes she took no notice of the playthings lying about, and sometimes, for no reason whatever, she went swooping about like a great wind and hustled them away in cupboards. She called this "tidying up," and the playthings all hated it, especially the tin ones. The Rabbit didn't mind it so much, for wherever he was thrown he came down soft.

One evening, when the Boy was going to bed, he couldn't find the china dog that always slept with him. Nana was in a hurry, and it was too much trouble to hunt for china dogs at bedtime, so she simply looked about her, and seeing that the toy cupboard door stood open, she made a swoop.

"Here," she said, "take your old Bunny! He'll do to sleep with you!" And she dragged the Rabbit out by one ear, and put him into the Boy's arms.

That night, and for many nights after, the Velveteen Rabbit slept in the Boy's bed. At first he found it rather uncomfortable, for the Boy hugged him very tight, and sometimes he rolled over on him, and sometimes he pushed him so far under the pillow that the Rabbit could scarcely breathe. And he missed, too, those long moonlight hours in the nursery, when all the house was silent, and his talks with the Skin Horse. But very soon he grew to like it, for the Boy used to talk to him, and made nice tunnels for him under the bedclothes that he said were like the burrows the real rabbits lived in. And they had splendid games together, in whispers, when Nana had gone away to her supper and left the night-light burning on the mantelpiece. And when the Boy dropped off to sleep, the Rabbit would snuggle down close under his little warm chin and dream, with the Boy's hands clasped close round him all night long.

And so time went on, and the little Rabbit was very happy–so happy that he never noticed how his beautiful velveteen fur was getting shabbier and shabbier, and his tail becoming unsewn, and all the pink rubbed off his nose where the Boy had kissed him."

This story keeps containing a really surprising density of FEELINGS! It's weirdly disorienting. Masozi didn't know it was possible for a story to be this disorienting. 

It makes him think of when he would fall asleep next to his older sister, the one who smiled like Yanli does. Back when she was still alive, and he was very small, and they all slept piled together on a mat woven of reeds, in the hut that his father built by the lake. He remembers how she would hold him, and sometimes whisper stories to him, when he woke up in the night and couldn't go back to sleep. 

He wonders what she would think of this story. And what his baby sister would think. Whether he'll survive this place and graduate and be able to go back to Malawi and tell her. But his older sister, he'll never know. She died long before he had the power to do anything about it. 

...Apparently he's going to be crying now? 

Lan Xichen cradles Masozi closer. "Do you want to stop?"

"No. S'okay." Masozi shivers. "...Maybe stop for a bit." He apparently needs a moment to try to calm down. "But I - want to know what happens next in the story."

"My mother reads book to me when I am small," he says quietly. "When I visit."

"When you...visit?" Masozi asks blankly. He doesn't follow what Lan Xichen means by that. 

It's not like everyone in Shanghai doesn't know--

"My mother is maleficer."

Oh. 

There's...clearly a lot of context there which Masozi doesn't know. He thought maleficers went crazy and then died? And even if not that they would get murdered by the non-maleficers, if they were with an enclave? It seems like it might be upsetting to say that to Lan Xichen, though. 

"...What happened?" he says instead, very quietly. 

"She is-- bad kind. Not kind that sticks to animals, even outside of Scholomance. My father falls in love with her before this is known. She turns him down." He sighs. "They discover she kills people and they track her down to kill her. Before they can kill her, my father helps her escape."

"- Escape where?" Also. Why would someone do that. "Were you born yet, then?" 

"No. It's before I am born. They aren't… together… at this time. --They escape to Beijing but they're caught. My uncle pleads for my father's life and my father says his life is not worth living without my mother, so the Dominus-- who is, you understand, very good at these things-- builds a prison for them. Where they can't use magic and can't escape but they live together." 

"Oh. That - was kind of him?" Maybe. Sort of? He's not sure it sounds like a kindness, to be locked up forever in a place where you can't use magic. "...I didn't know you could do that. Make people not be able to do spells. How?" 

"It's-- very complicated magical theory. I'm not sure I understand it myself." He sighs. "I visit my mother once a month. She dies when I'm ten. I-- don't think she ever wants to be with my father."

"...That sounds so awful for her." For both of them, really. For Lan Xichen too. Masozi takes Lan Xichen's hand again, squeezes it; it feels like needs to offer some kind of comfort, even if he has no idea what words would be comforting to say. "You...were born there and then they took you away?" 

"Yes. My uncle raises me. He is-- good man. He teaches me rules to follow so I don't grow up like my mother." Like my father.

"Mmm. ...Did your father die too? Or is he - still there, by himself...?"