Chapter Text
Wei Wuxian had heard the stories of summons and espers almost every day since he had entered the Jiang clan.
With every golden core came a summon, a small animal that stayed by one’s side – a spiritual companion. As the cultivator grew, so did the summon, the two fated to stay together forever.
Each clan had an esper; an especially strong summon inherited from generation to generation. Espers served whoever they pleased; usually whoever defeated their original master in combat – however, that rarely happened, as only the strongest could summon espers.
There was Qinghe Nie’s silver kirin, Lanling Jin’s golden peacock, Gusu Lan’s white tiger, Yunmeng Jiang’s purple dragon, and Qishan Wen’s red lion. Those were the five main espers of the cultivation world.
And there was the sixth – Chaos, who resided in the Burial Mounds, a twisting black beast who was uncontrollable and left alone. No one could control Chaos. No one was strong enough.
–
Wei Wuxian gasped.
His tiny hands were outstretched as an equally small red panda darted around him; glittering in the sunlight, eyes glinting with an intelligence beyond its age.
Beside him, his brother was on his knees playing with a small white puppy. Wei Wuxian trembled, and the red panda jumped back into his view, distracting him. His shijie was clutching a black puppy in her arms, a safe distance away from the two boys running around with their summons.
Summons .
Wei Wuxian had never thought he could get a summon; he was too small, his golden core was too weak – all the things he worried about late at night when the moon was obscured by the clouds and the wind howled and screamed, screamed like the torrent of insecurities buried deep in his chest, like a raging storm, like a hurricane.
He had a summon, and he loved it.
“ Shijie! Look at him!”
“Very cute, A-Xian,” his shijie said, smiling happily. She was older, and she must have been worried about not having a summon too. Somehow, all three of them had gotten their summons all at the same time. Call it luck, call it love; Wei Wuxian had never been so happy.
“Yours too, shijie! It looks so strong, just like you!”
She laughed, a tinkling bell mixing into the happiness drifting lazily through the air. “A-Xian...”
Jiang Cheng ran up to them, throwing an arm over Wei Wuxian’s shoulder. “You aren’t scared, are you?”
“N...not really,” Wei Wuxian shivered. The dog summons were not too scary; a sense of familiarity shone through their eyes, a semblance of safety and security. Memories of cold nights alone in the dark were replaced by warm hands and good food and love when Wei Wuxian thought of the Jiang family. How could he be scared of them?
He was so grateful, so happy to be able to stay by their sides, and could only hope that he would be allowed there forever.
“Hm, good,” Jiang Cheng huffed. “We all got them today! Together.”
Together, yes. The three of them would be together, forever.
–
Wei Wuxian hopped up onto the ledge.
It was colder than Yunmeng here in Gusu, but he welcomed it with open arms. Two bottles clinked against each other as he sat, opening one to lift it to his mouth. The cool smoothness of Emperor’s Smile was as good as he was told.
His summon rested its head on his leg, sleepy after the long day. The red panda had grown since that fateful day years ago when it first appeared by his side. Wei Wuxian rested a hand on its head, and it relaxed into his touch.
“It is past curfew.”
Wei Wuxian turned around to face the person, and nearly fell off the ledge.
He was beautiful; moonlight making him appear as if he was glowing, white robes lending him an air of someone ethereal, of someone who had descended from the heavens. A white ribbon crossed his pale forehead, the edges twisting in and out of smooth dark hair, twisting in the gentle wind.
“What do you have in your hands?” his voice was low, deep and even, carefully measured and heartbreakingly lovely.
Wei Wuxian smiled, “It’s Emperor’s Smile! If I share a jar with you, can you pretend you never saw me?”
“Alcohol is forbidden in the Cloud Recesses.”
Of course. Wei Wuxian rolled to his feet, sending his summon away for the time being. “Why don’t you tell me exactly what isn’t forbidden in your sect?”
“The Wall of Discipline is there. Read it.”
Wei Wuxian turned his head to the enormous wall, covered in writing. “Who has time for all those rules? Anyways, I’m technically not inside the Cloud Recesses,” he said, tipping the jar of alcohol up to his mouth, drinking messily. Alcohol dripped down his chin to stain his robes,
“You – ” a telltale scraping sound reached his ears, and Wei Wuxian grinned as he finished the alcohol, lowering the bottle. The man had drawn his sword, gleaming a beautiful silver.
Finally, things were getting interesting.
Laughing, Wei Wuxian darted back as the man rushed forward, the sword whizzing past his neck. Wei Wuxian drew his own sword, crouching as the man darted forward again.
They jumped from rooftop to rooftop, the man’s eyes glowing brighter and brighter, full lips getting narrow from frustration. Wei Wuxian laughed as he flew back, foot landing not quite right and forcing him to turn. The man’s sword slashed through a jar of wine, Wei Wuxian’s eyes widening in horror as it plummeted towards the ground.
“Hey!”
The man drew himself up to his height and turned his back on Wei Wuxian. No amount of calling got him to turn back around.
Wei Wuxian looked up at the starless sky, a mischievous smile on his lips. Perhaps the Gusu Lan sect wasn’t as boring as he thought.
–
Lan Wangji.
The one in charge of discipline. Son of the sect leader. Nephew of the head teacher.
In charge of discipline? Wei Wuxian would be able to see it, if it weren’t for the shimmer in his eyes when they fought, if it weren’t for the way he looked shrouded in silver, like an angel, like he wasn’t real.
Wei Wuxian wanted Lan Wangji to crash into the earth.
If there was anything, Lan Wangji’s reputation wasn’t exaggerated . Wei Wuxian was good with a sword, but not like that. There were even rumours that Lan Wangji could control the Gusu Lan esper?
Twin Jades of Lan produced twin white tigers – unheard of in cultivation history. Espers served one master, but it seemed that no one could resist Lan Wangji. The esper had split itself; no less powerful, but responding to two masters.
Ever since the incident on the lake (Lan Wangji’s hands on Wei Wuxian’s collar, Wei Wuxian’s eyes on the wet ends of Lan Wangji’s hair), Wei Wuxian couldn’t stop his mind from straying to Lan Wangji. He was silent in class except when called to answer a question, like a statue, the most beautiful one Wei Wuxian had ever seen.
He followed Lan Wangji around, teasing him, riling him up to see that perfect mask break into pieces and fall, to see something in Lan Wangji’s eyes other than cold indifference. He wanted Lan Wangji’s attention for reasons he couldn’t understand.
“You really are an idiot,” Jiang Cheng sighed.
“Wei-Xiong, maybe consider what you want from him?” Nie Huiasang suggested.
“Ah, A-Xian, so young,” Jiang Yanli laughed.
“SHAMELESS!” Lan Qiren yelled. (What? Biting his lip towards Lan Wangji was shameless now?)
Wei Wuxian spent his days teasing Lan Wangji and his nights dreaming of him.
He wondered what Lan Wangji’s summon was. It was considered a sign of weakness for him to show his summon when he had an esper, so Wei Wuxian was left wondering. Imagine if it were something soft – no, summons often reflected the cultivator. Was Lan Wangji the first cultivator in history to have a stone as a summon?
Wei Wuxian hummed, leaning forward on his elbows. His punishment was somehow made less awful by Lan Wangji. Wei Wuxian did always like pretty things to look at – not that he liked Lan Wangji! He was just pretty! It was a well known fact!
“Focus.”
Wei Wuxian pouted, summoning his red panda. “Lan Zhan, it’s so nice outside.”
“Mm.”
Wei Wuxian winked at his summon, sending it forward to slink across the floor towards Lan Wangji. “Would you let us go outside?”
Lan Wangji blinked as the summon clambered onto his desk. “Wei Wuxian!”
“What?” Wei Wuxian bounded over to Lan Wangji, draping himself across his desk, next to his summon. “Lan Zhan, call me Wei Ying.”
“Preposterous,” Lan Wangji said, teeth gritted, but his eyes softened when the red panda sat up.
Did Lan Wangji like his summon more than him? Wei Wuxian would be offended if it wasn’t so adorable. Was...was Lan Wangji smiling?
“Out,” Lan Wangji glared.
Oh. Did he say that out loud? Ah, well, any excuse to get out of the library. “Bye, Lan Zhan! My room’s always open if you want to see each other’s summons!”
“Ridiculous!”
So, maybe, Wei Wuxian liked the Cloud Recesses a little bit.
It all came to a head when Jin Zixuan insulted his shijie, and Wei Wuxian saw red. If Lan Wangji hadn’t broken up the fight, it would have been worse – but Wei Wuxian didn’t see how it could be worse. Even though Jin Zixuan didn’t deserve shijie, he made her happy, and Wei Wuxian took that away.
He was sent back to Lotus Pier. Even though he should be happy to be free of three thousand rules and Lan Qiren’s shrieking, he wasn’t, not quite.
Every time he turned, he missed the flash of a white ribbon in the corner of his eye.
–
Wei Wuxian was shaking.
Nerves, fear, and excitement all coursed through his body with equal parts, equally afraid and in awe, waiting with bated breath and a heartbeat racing far too fast. There was no doubt in his mind that his shidi was one of the best and strongest people he knew, but he still worried.
Jiang Yanli was sitting beside him, hands firmly clenching her robes. Wei Wuxian took one of her small hands in his own, smiling at her brightly despite the turmoil rolling in his stomach. “A-Cheng will be fine.”
“I know,” she whispered. “You do, too. We still worry, despite it all.”
“Ah, shijie is too smart,” he whined, dropping his head to her shoulder. She laughed, ruffling his hair. “Wait, that’s him!”
Jiang Cheng stepped out of the tent, Sandu in one hand, Zidian in the other. Wei Wuxian leaned forward, almost falling out of his seat. Jiang Cheng had been training for years for this moment, to inherit the Yunmeng Jiang esper, the purple dragon. Wei Wuxian had faith, but did Jiang Cheng have faith in himself?
Jiang Cheng’s eyes snapped open, blazing purple as Zidian lit up beside him. Wei Wuxian smiled. Yes, he did.
Jiang Fengmian sat across the field from his son, eyes closed and maintaining an image of calmness, stillness. Jiang Cheng bent his knees, settling, energy coursing through him. The ends of Wei Wuxian’s hairs on the back of his neck stood up, electric.
The purple dragon appeared.
Ten times the size of a human, a purple skeleton made of lightning crackled to life in front of their eyes. Its eyes blazed the same purple as Jiang Cheng’s as it lunged forward.
Jiang Cheng slid underneath it, throwing Sandu up to stab the dragon’s underside. It was too fast, enormous wings lifting it up and around, talons stretching to bat Jiang Cheng away. Zidian curled around its talons as it flew up, Jiang Cheng going with it.
Jiang Yanli gasped, hand curling around the chair she was sitting on.
Jiang Cheng flipped up, Sandu gleaming in the sunlight as he stabbed the dragon’s foot, hoisting himself up. Zidian flew again, with perfect precision this time, to wrap around the dragon’s neck.
Jiang Cheng leaped, and Wei Wuxian saw it a moment before he did.
The dragon’s eyes glinted black, and it breathed fire.
Jiang Cheng flew backwards to avoid the fire, calling Sandu to him and balancing on it. He threw Zidian again, twisting to swerve around the dragon fire, as the dragon was just out of reach every time, every moment.
He couldn’t lose. Wei Wuxian closed his eyes. Jiang Cheng would not lose.
It was like the edge of a heartbeat, every moment counting as a hundred; two foes battling for control. Jiang Cheng depended on this, his entire life focused on winning a single battle; to prove himself, to be what he told himself he always had to.
There was no other path.
And when you believed there was only one shining, broad path, you did not look around you – eyes fixed forward, one goal only.
Jiang Cheng was nothing if not persistent. The match took hours, Jiang Cheng running the dragon in circles. Wei Wuxian could hear whispers in the audience about stalling, about disgraces and failures, about how it shouldn’t be Jiang Cheng inheriting the esper.
Who would it be if not Jiang Cheng? Wei Wuxian may have been louder, may have dug his way up by tooth and nail, bloodstains on lotus petals, but he never would take from Jiang Cheng. Nev er.
Zidian and Sandu flew as one as Jiang Cheng flew, arcing through the sky, Zidian around the dragon’s neck and Sandu through its right eye.
There was silence, and then there was uproar.
Jiang Cheng looked like he couldn’t believe it. Wei Wuxian smiled, remembered, and stayed back.
This was his moment.
–
Xuanwu Cave was cold, but Lan Wangji was warm.
“Your esper?” Wei Wuxian coughed, struggling to sit up. The day had been stressful, full of pain and horror and a bone-deep worry. Wei Wuxian only hoped that Jiang Cheng had made it out safely.
Lan Wangji closed his eyes, opening them in defeat. “Too much resentful energy.”
“It’s okay,” Wei Wuxian whispered. “It’s okay. My summon is here.”
Lan Wangji smiled at the red panda. Wei Wuxian felt something in his chest stir, almost painfully, almost too much but not enough.
“How’s your leg?”
“How’s your arm?”
Wei Wuxian huffed, sliding over. “I’m okay. Mianmian gave me these herbs, let me help you.”
Lan Wangji lifted a trembling hand to Wei Wuxian’s chest, as if to push him away. Wei Wuxian was hit with a flash of desire, a world where Lan Wangji would curl his fist in Wei Wuxian’s robes and kiss him with the ferocity of a raging storm, with the tenderness of a blooming rose, as if he was in love.
In love?
Kissing Lan Wangji just to get his attention was a little too shameless, even for Wei Wuxian.
“Use them on yourself,” Lan Wangji said, hoarsely. Those sharp eyes had gone dull with pain and exhaustion, and Wei Wuxian wanted to shoulder all his burdens, wanted to – wanted to –
“You’re not stupid, don’t act it,” Wei Wuxian hummed lightly, pulling Lan Wangji’s robes aside. Lan Wangji gasped, trying to close his robes, and Wei Wuxian almost jerked back. “Hey,” he said, instead, trying to make his voice as soft as possible. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay, Lan Zhan, I’ve got you. Let me take care of you.”
Lan Wangji’s eyes were wide, so wide and so beautiful. Wei Wuxian knew it wasn’t the time to think about just how beautiful Lan Wangji was, inside and out, but it was insistently pressing against his chest, threatening to spill out of his mouth.
It was something soft and intimate, warm in his chest. Lan Wangji was wholly good, the way he defended Mianmian, ready to die for what was right. Wei Wuxian knew it, but it never failed to leave him off-kilter, tipped slightly to the side – untraceable to everyone but him. He struggled for balance, stuck in Lan Wangji’s orbit.
Tears stained Lan Wangji’s face. Wei Wuxian wanted to kiss them away. Instead, he gave Lan Wangji the cleanest robes and extra medicine. He couldn’t be there for Lan Wangji like a brother, but maybe as someone else...something long-lasting, something forever.
Lan Wangji would not have him forever.
Wei Wuxian pushed the rose-tinted thoughts of his head, facing the harshness of the reality they were in. Slowly, slowly they healed, and they planned.
Three days later, Wei Wuxian went inside the beast, and Lan Wangji set up the chords. Their plan was solid; they were strong and they were stronger together.
Wei Wuxian thought of Lan Wangji as he climbed inside the beast’s shell. It smelled awful and felt even worse; he could not imagine the clean beauty of Lan Wangji like this. Wei Wuxian’s summon, perched on his shoulder, shook with fear.
“It’s okay. We’re going to get out of here,” Wei Wuxian said, out loud, half for his summon and half for himself. “It’s okay.”
His summon pressed itself into Wei Wuxian’s neck, offering comfort. His summon had his heart, and Lan Wangji had his back. That’s all Wei Wuxian needed.
The fight was going to be fierce. The beast did not want to die, but everything had to end. Lan Wangji had to be safe, they had to get out of here, and the Wens had to die.
Was that a sword?
Wei Wuxian put his hand around the hilt and screamed.
Hundreds, thousands of people, burned and burned and flickered away like candlelight being snuffed out. Six espers falling to the ground from the sky, earthquakes ravaging the land. Battles and bloodshed, red-stained rivers until five espers were beaten into submission.
The sixth.
The sixth…
Chaos.
Chaos.
Wei Wuxian tore his hand away, crumpling like paper. Chaos was so, so strong, but so broken. It was like watching a hundred years pass in Chaos’s point of view, stripped bare and carved into pieces.
Oh, it hurt.
Has anyone else seen this?
“Wei Ying?!”
Right. Right. They had a job to do.
Wei Wuxian was drained and weak after clambering to shore. Lan Wangji wrapped an arm around him, pulling him out of the water, taking his face in his hands. “Wei Ying?”
“I’m okay...” he whispered. “Lan Zhan, will you sing to me?”
The memories of the last esper were swirling in his mind, no escape in sight. Wei Wuxian had never felt so connected to someone else, something else, someone bigger and brighter with so much more to lose, someone on the same path towards the infinite darkness.
Lan Wangji started to sing, and Wei Wuxian thought, maybe, there was a way into the light
–
“He’s my brother.”
“I can’t just leave him.”
“Half a chance is good enough.”
Wen Qing asked him, afterwards. “Was it worth it?”
Wei Wuxian was too numb to speak.
It was not a question of worth, but a question of pain. Nothing had ever been more excruciating – not Madame Yu’s whip, not Xuanwu Cave, not all those nights alone with nothing but feral dogs to keep him awake and afraid. He was so cold, so empty, left to shake apart and scream to a godless sky.
He had forced his summon away. The summon who had been with him no matter what, who had curled up in his arms and rested its chin on his head and was always, always warm – it left a cold emptiness in his lungs to have it gone.
No core, no summon; no warmth. Nothing left. Nothing.
He knew, somehow, that he had his brother and his sister, Wen Qing and Wen Ning and maybe even Lan Wangji – but he was too cold to listen to reason, too cold to feel anything but pain. It was too quiet in his head, too quiet in his heart. It hurt. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt –
Infinite darkness. There was only infinite darkness in his chest, in his head, consuming him until nothing remained.
For Jiang Cheng, he would do it again.
–
Wei Wuxian trembled.
It was cold, so cold, down in the depths of the Burial Mounds. He had fallen to his feet hours or minutes or seconds ago; time didn’t quite work the same here, it raced and stumbled and dragged on slow, slow like nails scraping down the back of his neck, drawing black blood.
Memories swirled just beyond his reach. His mind dragged up the worst pain he had ever felt; losing his golden core, having to lock his summon away so Jiang Cheng would not suspect anything, he could not suspect. The look in his brother’s eyes was worse than any pain.
The darkness laughed at that. The pain can always get worse, they taunted him, tearing into his skin as if it were nothing, as if he was nothing.
Wei Wuxian had stopped counting the seconds. There was no point, there was nothing but him and the emptiness, him and infinite darkness stretching beyond the horizon until it was all he could see, all he could think of.
No, not like this. He would live to see Jiang Cheng summon his esper once again, live to see his sister once again. He would not die like this, not while there was still a war to be fought, not while there were still innocents to protect.
(Was he an innocent? Would he be one when the war was over?)
He dragged himself forward. The infinite darkness raged, inside his head and out, pressing down until he was sure he would explode. How long had it been? He was so empty, so lost, so alone.
His hand grazed a bamboo stalk. Wei Wuxian smiled, cracked lips bleeding.
The carving was excruciating, screaming echoing around him, breaking his hands and his mind and his smile open until it was left bare and dead like everything here. Wei Wuxian was a flame begging to be smothered.
Here was the thing, fire burned.
A shrill note pierced through the darkness as Wei Wuxian staggered to his feet, making his way through the endless night; forward, onward, melodies racing through his head and driving the emptiness away. He played to one who he did not know, one who was only a legend, one who had to be real.
Chaos, the esper of the Burial Mounds, the king of darkness.
Wei Wuxian was called many things over the years: a fool, a nobody, the greatest of the generation, a terror, a righteous warrior, a plague, nothing, everything. Good or evil, he had a reputation, enough for Wen Ruohan himself to put a bounty on his head, enough to survive the hell that was the Burial Mounds, where the strongest of cultivators died in minutes, where Wei Wuxian lived. Chaos would answer Wei Wuxian’s call.
And that he did.
“You want to battle, cultivator?”
The voice was low, booming, echoing through every corner Wei Wuxian’s mind. It commanded his attention, demanded his obedience – it hurt but it drove away the silence.
Unfortunately, Wei Wuxian wasn’t one for obedience – and no one could be as much of a stickler as Lan Qiren, immortal esper or not.
Wei Wuxian twirled his flute between his fingers, smiling with blood-stained teeth. There was nothing to lose; he had fallen to the earth and dug his way underground into his grave. There was no further to fall. “Try me.”
“I have killed hundreds of your kind.”
“I’m a little different.”
“And why would you think that?”
“Come and find out. What’s one more?”
“What’s one more indeed?” hummed Chaos, and it begun.
This was nothing like Jiang Cheng and the Yunmeng Jiang esper, nothing like Lan Wangji and the white tiger – this was a fight without honour, without mercy. Wei Wuxian’s eyes strained, his knees grew weaker, weaker – weaker with each passing moment, vision hazing out to darkness and light, fingers burning with lungs giving out as his flute shook with power, resentful energy streaming around him, tangling around him as if to trap him, as if he was nothing.
Wei Wuxian was used to being nothing.
He brought Chaos to its knees .
And it broke his heart.
He had seen Chaos in Xuanwu Cave, and he saw him now. He saw Chaos, young and inexperienced but so, so powerful, respected in a way closer to fear. He saw rebellions, he saw Chaos getting blamed for things it didn’t do – just because it was strong. He saw Chaos fall into the Burial Mounds, where it stayed for as long as it could remember. Life before the Burial Mounds were flashes, glimpses of the sun from miles under the sea. Chaos made this place its home, but had not seen the light forever.
The beast grinned, “Things are getting interesting.”
Oh, Wei Wuxian liked him.
“Where’s the way out?” Wei Wuxian whispered.
“I’m trapped here,” Chaos hummed. “You’re free to go, though.”
“You’re mine now,” Wei Wuxian said. His summon was gone, and it left his heart aching and empty; Chaos’ place in his chest was not quite the same, but it was better than the loneliness. “You go where I go. You’re free now.”
Chaos scoffed, “So you’re saying all I had to do to get out of this place was let some cultivator master me?”
“You don’t seem the type to let someone just control you.”
“You’ll get to know that soon enough,” Chaos said. “I think we’re going to get along, Wei Wuxian.”