Chapter Text
“Great news! The Yiling Patriarch Jiang Xichen has died!”
It had only been less than a day since the siege in the Burial Mounds, but the news of Jiang Xichen’s death had started spreading through the cultivation world like wildfire. For a long period of time since that day, everyone, from the disciples in the most prominent sects to mere rogue cultivators, were neck-deep in the discussion of the siege which took the lives of a thousand cultivators.
“The Yiling Patriarch is truly evil. To think that he brought so many people down along with him!”
“What do you know? A war definitely has its losses. It’s a small price to pay to bring the Yiling Patriarch down!”
“Is he truly gone though? The resentment energy clouding Burial Mounds has only gotten much stronger! Are you sure Jiang Xichen isn’t just hiding there?”
“That’s impossible! I heard that the Second Jade of Lan, Lan Wanyin, personally killed him! Don’t you know that the one thing Gusu Lan Sect can’t stand is evil? I’m sure he slaughtered Jiang Xichen! They couldn’t even find a whole corpse!”
“Good riddance!”
“Good riddance, indeed. I’ve always said that the Jiang brat was too bold and arrogant for his own good! To think that there was a time when he was the Sect Heir and the first ranked Young Master in the cultivation world!”
“Yunmeng Jiang Sect is definitely better without him! If I were Wei Wuxian, I would have cut him down at the time of his defection! Who cares about all these ‘considerations’ he gave to his ‘brother’? I say, if Jiang Xichen really thought of Wei Wuxian as his brother, he wouldn’t have caused him so much trouble in the first place!”
“B-But that’s merely hearsay. I heard that Jiang Xichen was killed because his powers backfired and he was ripped to pieces...”
“Well, serves him right then! It’s karma! That’s the end for anyone who cultivates the demonic path!”
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
After Jiang Xichen’s death, the period is drawn on the topic. The discussions of the people remain mostly the same, with a few unconventional opinions brought down immediately upon emergence.
Demonic cultivation became a forbidden cultivation method, and anyone who is found cultivating the demonic path is instantly executed without a trial.
The Four Great Sects formed an alliance and worked together to rebuild a wall layered with incantations around the Burial Mounds to trap the resentment energy on its peak, preventing it from overflowing and affecting the common folk. Along with hundreds of other smaller clans, they took a year to set up one hundred and twenty stone beasts atop the Burial Mounds and started initiating frequent soul-summoning rituals, along with heightened vigilance and searches for strange occurrences from all over the country.
In the first year, nothing happened.
In the second year, nothing happened.
In the third year, nothing happened.
In the seventh year, nothing happened either.
More and more people were starting to believe that, maybe, just maybe, the Yiling Patriarch had actually truly perished.
Even if he was capable of turning the world upside down, it was finally his turn to be toppled over.
Nobody would remain at the top for all of eternity. After all, legends are only legends.
Notes:
1. A big thank you to FyreByrd for helping me brainstorm and plan out this entire AU 👏👏👏 as well as Leib, Tuples and Clanaa for constantly encouraging me and helping when I face problems writing this AU ❤️
2. Thank you to DaikonJeong for helping to beta the first 10 chapters!
3. This is based on an ongoing Twitter thread that I wrote, but be warned that the thread contains spoilers.
4. Fanart compilation on Twitter moments. Thank you for all the gorgeous drawings!
Chapter Text
<PRESENT>
Jiang Xichen opens his eyes.
There is the pungent smell of blood permeating the air, reminiscent of his last moments on the Burial Mounds, but his surroundings are completely unfamiliar. He is in a courtyard of sorts, with the bright silvery moonlight of the full moon overhead illuminating the ruined half-collapsed soot-covered structures around him.
Everything is eerily silent. There is no noise at all, not even a bird call or the rustling of leaves.
All that is echoing in Jiang Xichen’s head is the strong wish of the person who had summoned his soul back into this world—Song Huan, courtesy name Hengyi.
"I beseech the Yiling Patriarch! Kill Xue Yang and Jin Guangyao!"
Xue Yang is not a name Jiang Xichen knows, but Jin Guangyao is one that he definitely recognizes. The celebrated hero of the Sunshot Campaign, the person who had decapitated Wen Ruohan—what wrong could someone like Jin Guangyao have possibly done?
Jiang Xichen pushes himself up onto his elbows, taking in the sight of his tattered black sleeves which barely cover the two deep gashes on his left forearm. Coupled with the lingering trace of resentment energy and the sight of warped scribbles under him, forming incantations drawn completely with blood, Jiang Xichen is almost completely sure that this is the forbidden technique he had previously seen in ancient texts—the Sacrificial Ritual.
To perform it, the caster has to create incisions on their body and draw the array with their own blood to summon an extremely villainous ghoul to grant them a wish. The price to pay for performing such a heinous ritual is the offering up of one’s body to the evil spirit, and removal of the caster’s own soul from the cycle of rebirth and reincarnation.
And the worst part of this ritual is that as soon as the summoned spirit has taken over the body of the caster, the contract is sealed by default. The spirit must grant the caster’s wish, or the curse will cause a backlash. The incisions would gradually widen, and the very day the body of the caster dies, the spirit in possession of the body will also be completely annihilated along with it, never to be reincarnated again.
Disorientated, Jiang Xichen clicks his tongue and tries to get to his feet, but a strange scratching sound coming from behind makes him pause. Jiang Xichen turns around slowly, his body still unnaturally heavy from the massive blood loss and incredibly lethargic from extended starvation.
There is a line of graves behind him, comprising of white marbled tombstones of varying sizes under the shade of a huge flowering haitang1 tree, and as Jiang Xichen watches, the earth under the largest tombstone marked with the title ‘shifu’ 2 starts shaking. The slab of stone tilts with the force, falling onto its back and sending a resulting cloud of dirt up into the air.
The dark scorched ground under it cracks further, sending chunks of loose soil falling to the side as a bout of concentrated resentment energy bursts forth from the grave and shoots skywards.
Jiang Xichen’s eyes narrow at the turn of events. He braces himself for the thing roused by the resentment energy from the Sacrificial Ritual, but even still, he only barely manages to dodge in time when the evil being shoots out towards him without a second warning.
Sharp nails from a dismembered left arm slashes him right across his right cheek and Jiang Xichen winces as he whirls around, immediately springing several steps backwards to put some distance between the arm and himself.
Thick vapours of resentment energy shroud the demonic arm—dark, black, and cloying.
Jiang Xichen inhales sharply.
He is definitely at a major disadvantage here. Although he can feel the unmistakable whirring of a golden core in him, there are no spiritual tools around for him to use, and Song Hengyi's body is still incredibly weak from malnourishment.
On the other hand, every attack from the arm is growing stronger and more vicious, and Jiang Xichen understands. He really does.
Dismemberment is a textbook example of a gruesome death after all. The separated parts of the corpse are tainted with the resentment of the victim and their strong wish to reunite with other body parts to die as a whole corpse, even if it means that it would have to take over and replace parts from other living humans.
But is it wrong for Jiang Xichen to want to survive longer than a few minutes after getting summoned?
He ducks behind the haitang tree as the arm charges at him again, tricking it into sinking its nails through the woody bark. He doesn't need to take the arm down. All he needs to do is to keep it occupied long enough to escape. With the huge display earlier, the odds are that a cultivator noticed the burst of resentment energy and is rushing over right now anyway.
"See you later," Jiang Xichen taunts, smirking as he skips casually out from behind the tree.
The arm twitches in response, muscles rippling and veins bulging from the strain. Then, with a loud crack along with another surge of dark energy, it rips the trunk into ribbons.
Jiang Xichen curses under his breath, snatching a falling branch from mid-air. He briefly coats the petals of the haitang blossoms with his spiritual energy, making sure to sharpen the energy to a point before sending the petals flying out towards the arm. They embed themselves deep into its acupoints, but the attack barely slows the arm down.
Instead, it seemingly speeds up, smashing through the splinters and races towards Jiang Xichen. Without missing a beat, the young man hastily twists out of the way, pouring even more of his spiritual energy into the length of the branch and tosses it straight at the arm.
The makeshift weapon pierces right into its bicep and the resulting force drags the dismembered arm halfway across the courtyard, pinning it down against the building's crumbling stone wall.
The arm twitches relentlessly, trying to pull itself free but to no avail.
Jiang Xichen heaves a sigh of relief and turns to leave, but a sudden stab of sharp pain brings him down to his knees. He collapses, breathlessly clutching at his chest. There is a familiar ache compounding deep under his ribs, a strange heat that chips at and burns his golden core, cracking it, sending waves of numbness to his extremities.
Jiang Xichen coughs out a mouthful of blood.
The realisation hits him a moment after—Song Hengyi’s golden core is damaged.
And the reason for that is simple, really.
There is a substantial amount of resentment energy in his body, a little higher than what his golden core can realistically purify, and the pressure of these two conflicting yin and yang energies has caused his core to crack under the burden. With its current state, any excessive use of spiritual energy would likely cause it to fracture further, and the only way to repair this is to cleanse and stabilise his core again, both of which Jiang Xichen does not have the energy or effort to expend on at the moment.
At least not until he puts a safe distance between himself and that arm.
Jiang Xichen runs the back of his hand across his mouth, smearing the tinge of red across his lips before using his hands as leverage to shakily push himself back onto his feet.
The exertion causes a wave of fresh blood to ooze from the ritual wounds, trickling down his forearm.
The scent wafts through the air and the immediate reaction of the arm to it is discernible. It starts twitching, veins protruding almost grotesquely as the resentment energy enveloping it thickens enough to roll off in waves.
With a resounding tearing sound, the evil being rips its way free, leaving a large gaping hole on its upper arm as it lunges straight at Jiang Xichen.
There is no way Jiang Xichen could have avoided an attack of that speed, and he takes the brunt of the force head-first. The impact knocks the man clean off his feet and he crashes halfway across the courtyard, smearing the blood-drawn runes with his robes.
Jiang Xichen blinks through the haze of pain, struggling to get back to his feet. However, the arm doesn’t give him any moment of respite, and closes ashen-grey fingers around his neck in the very next minute, mercilessly squeezing it. Jiang Xichen gasps, struggling futilely as the pressure on his throat grows, and his eyes start watering from the lack of air. There is an acrid sour taste building up at the back of his mouth, a fire in his lungs that slowly burns from the inside out as it progresses all the way up from his throat to the back of his eyes.
Jiang Xichen’s head pounds uncontrollably, vision blurring.
The resentment energy from the arm pours into him from their point of contact, enveloping him in a bubble which overpowers his five senses. He sees the darkness before him, encroaching from the sides of his vision. He hears screams thundering endlessly in his head, reminiscent of the days he used to wield resentment energy as a weapon. He feels the cold of death and hatred building inside him, gradually quelling the fire of life and passion.
"Let go of me..." Jiang Xichen rasps, his body far too weak to conjure up even a trace amount of spiritual energy. The resentment energy from the arm is far too much and too strong for his golden core to purify and he feels the overflowing amounts travelling down to his extremities, bringing with it white-hot pain and a numbing cold.
Then suddenly, a single bright and clear note from the strum of a stringed instrument rips the demonic arm cleanly off of Jiang Xichen with a wave of comforting blue.
It breaks the dark bubble surrounding him and the impact repels Jiang Xichen backwards, in the opposite direction from the arm. Jiang Xichen screws his eyes shut, bracing himself for the impending impact, but his back never meets the cold stone wall.
Instead, he collides with a soft and warm body, steadying him easily with an arm around his shoulders.
Jiang Xichen turns to see the features of the man supporting him, and watches as soft billowing white robes with the cloud motifs of the Gusu Lan Sect fall gently with the breeze when the man lands smoothly on the ground, his steps feather-light, as he lifts the qin balanced in the crook of his free arm.
The man strikes his instrument again, plucking a string. The mellifluous note produced rings out, clear and resonant.
Another wave of blue spiritual energy flares along with it, completely freezing the demonic arm in place.
The stormy grey clouds part in the night sky as if on cue, and silvery moonlight filters through the layers of darkness to illuminate the white-robed man, making his profile glow with ethereal beauty as he slowly turns to face Jiang Xichen, a pair of piercing steel blue eyes meeting his.
Jiang Xichen freezes momentarily.
He recognises this man. He recognizes this face that’s seemingly carved from jade, complete with angular cheekbones, the soft slope of his nose, and thin pink lips.
—It’s Lan Wanyin.
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
Jiang Xichen wakes to the melody on a qin.
It is calm and soothing, each chord sending sparks of energy into his core that relieves the cold and heavy weight of resentment energy in him. His limbs feel warmer, his chest lighter, and Jiang Xichen turns his head to the side to peer through the sheer canopy curtain at his benefactor.
He sees the similarities between the man before him and the boy from his memories—the way Lan Wanyin lets out a soft sigh in between repeats of the same song, the manner he still plucks the strings just a tad too harshly, and the unique melancholic feeling that only Lan Wanyin's playing can instil in him with every single note.
Jiang Xichen lets out a soft chuckle at that line of thought, and the music comes to an abrupt stop. Lan Wanyin rests his palm above the strings, cutting off the vibrations before speaking.
“You’re awake.”
Lan Wanyin’s voice is deeper than what Jiang Xichen remembers, softer and calmer.
Similar, but somewhat different—and yet, even a lifetime later and in a different body, Jiang Xichen still finds himself undeniably in love with Lan Wanyin, in love with the man he could never be with, because his reputation as the Yiling Patriarch would only sully the prestige of pristine Second Jade of Lan.
But now, if he is able to hide his identity as Jiang Xichen and live on solely as Song Huan, Song Hengyi, could he then…
Jiang Xichen screws his eyes shut. He can’t. He is bound by the ritual’s curse.
To live on, he would have to kill Xue Yang and Jin Guangyao. But can he really bring himself to kill again? If he kills another person for such a selfish reason, would he be any different from how he was back then?
Yet if he doesn’t kill, if he allows the backlash from the curse to slowly consume him… would it then be selfish of him to wish to continue staying by Lan Wanyin’s side until he wastes away?
Lan Wanyin releases a long exhale at that moment, snapping Jiang Xichen out of his reverie.
Jiang Xichen peers back just in time to see the latter moving across the room towards him. Swallowing dryly, Jiang Xichen and slowly sits himself up, sliding the curtains apart, to come face to face with Lan Wanyin.
The white-robed man pauses, hesitating for a short moment before sitting himself at the edge of the bed and reaches out to pull Jiang Xichen’s right hand over, resting it atop the covers and lightly presses three fingers against his pulse point before touching the back of his hand to Jiang Xichen’s forehead.
“Your fever has finally gone down. Seems like the spiritual energy helped.”
“And the music is...?”
“Cleansing, from the Song of Clarity. You lost consciousness at Baixue Temple and had numerous severe injuries, so I had no choice but to bring you to the nearest town to dress your wounds. But you were still feverish no matter how much spiritual energy I transferred to you, so I had to play Cleansing to purify the resentment energy in you first.”
Dress his wounds? Jiang Xichen notices the faint scent of herbal ointment in the air only after that mention, and glances down at the snowy white bandages over the light cuts on his torso and the gashes on his left forearm.
Lan Wanyin places a qiankun pouch in Jiang Xichen’s outstretched hand. “The wounds on your left forearm are probably a curse from when it attacked you.”
Jiang Xichen looks curiously from the qiankun pouch containing the dismembered left arm, to his bandaged forearm. So Lan Wanyin actually thinks that the ritual wounds are injuries caused by the demonic limb? Well, he can do with that, it’s the perfect explanation for why there is resentment energy lingering in those wounds too.
Once he has made up his mind, Jiang Xichen then puts on a troubled expression and groans. “Aiyo, why am I so unlucky? The cultivation world is really unfair to us rogue cultivators! All I wanted was to find something that would give me a decent reward, but it turned out to be so strong and I even got cursed! I knew I should have changed my name. Song Hengyi—Song Hengyi? What sort of name is this? Tell me, what’s the point of having willpower and loyalty if you have no strength?!" 3
Lan Wanyin averts his gaze as he considers a suitable response.
“Song-gongzi… Since you’ve managed to disperse most of its resentment energy and I’ve also played Rest for it, the arm should stay dormant for the next few days. I will extend the booking of this room for another day. You can take the time to recuperate, then head to the closest Sect to request for assistance with the curse.” Lan Wanyin rises to his feet with a swish of robes, giving Jiang Xichen a polite nod as he turns to leave.
An inexplicable rush of panic surges through Jiang Xichen at once, and the sole thought of not letting Lan Wanyin leave yet overpowers him, leading him to grab onto Lan Wanyin’s right sleeve on impulse.
Lan Wanyin stills, his stony gaze locking onto Jiang Xichen’s fingers on the hem of his robes.
Jiang Xichen hurriedly clears his throat.
“But there is no guarantee that they’ll help me before the curse consumes me, right? Besides, a dismembered corpse like this usually only has one wish, which is to find the rest of its body parts. I’m sure other than the righteous Gusu Lan Sect, no other sect would be willing to help me with such an arduous task.”
Lan Wanyin yanks his sleeve away. “You can send a request to the Gusu Lan Sect then.”
“But I have no sword. How will I be able to travel all the way to Cloud Recesses before I succumb to this curse?”
“Unfortunately, I have no intention to head back to Cloud Recesses yet. I was just passing by Baixue Temple on my way to a night-hunt. Following me would only delay your journey.”
“Well, I must say, having you along to play Rest to calm that arm down is many times better than going off on a long journey on foot alone and hoping that I reach Cloud Recesses before it starts acting up again.”
Lan Wanyin stares at him from the corner of his eye, and they share a moment in silence before Lan Wanyin finally relents with a sigh. “I will escort you to Cloud Recesses after I’m done with the night-hunt.”
Jiang Xichen grins. “Thank you, Lan er-gongzi.”
Lan Wanyin freezes, steel blue eyes narrowing in suspicion. “How do you know who I am?”
“Are you kidding me, Lan er-gongzi? Gusu Lan is one of the Four Great Sects and as the Second Jade of Lan, you’re naturally well-known throughout the cultivation world. I mean, who wouldn’t know the name and face of the hero who led the siege that killed the Yiling Patriarch for good?”
His tone is light, appearing airy and nonchalant, but Jiang Xichen regrets his words the moment they leave his mouth.
He should not have said that—he isn’t mentally prepared for Lan Wanyin’s verbal answer, and would never be prepared to hear Lan Wanyin agreeing with the public’s sentiment of him.
However, instead of the reaction he is expecting, Lan Wanyin’s posture stiffens, his gaze growing unbearably cold as he glowers darkly down at Jiang Xichen. Jiang Xichen swallows dryly, as Lan Wanyin tears his gaze away swiftly and spins on his heel, turning away to leave without another word.
The abrupt movement sends the tails of Lan Wanyin’s forehead ribbon fluttering and the damaged left end of the white cloth catches Jiang Xichen’s attention, and he reaches out to grab onto it, staring at the blemish—a hole the size of an arrowhead, with the area around the tear fraying slightly.
Lan Wanyin slaps his hand away hastily, eyes flashing in fury.
Jiang Xichen gulps reflexively, raising his hands before his chest in a placating manner. There is an apology right at the tip of his tongue, but it promptly dies off when he notices a familiar ring on Lan Wanyin’s left forefinger. He grabs Lan Wanyin’s wrist, tugging him closer for a better look at the purple band.
Zidian.
It’s definitely Zidian, without a doubt. He will never mistake Zidian.
But why is Zidian with Lan Wanyin?
Jiang Xichen knows with certainty that he’d never managed to pass Zidian on to a new owner before his death. But even so, it is an heirloom and he is sure Wei Wuxian would keep it in Lotus Pier’s Treasury if he ever found it after the Siege.
For Wei Wuxian to pass Zidian to Lan Wanyin, and for Lan Wanyin to wear it as such, does it mean that...
“Why do you have that ring?” Jiang Xichen asks, voice strained and trembling.
Lan Wanyin wrenches his wrist out of Jiang Xichen’s grip. “It is none of your business.”
“Of course, of course,” Jiang Xichen forces a smile on. “Just mere curiosity. I’ve never expected the heirloom of the Jiang family to be with someone from the Lan Sect.”
Lan Wanyin peers at him surreptitiously, giving Jiang Xichen a once-over. An awkward silence drags on between the two men before Lan Wanyin gives in first, turning to leave. He pauses by the doorway, speaking over his shoulder. “This ring belonged to a friend of mine.”
Jiang Xichen inhales sharply, opening his mouth to answer, but Lan Wanyin had already shut the doors behind him.
Left alone in the room, Jiang Xichen finally allows the tension in his shoulders to seep away and he slumps backwards, falling tiredly onto the bed. He presses the heels of his palms against his eyes and groans.
“Friends,” Jiang Xichen repeats, tasting the unfamiliar word on his tongue.
Lan Wanyin had always been too shy to use that word to describe their relationship back then, back when Jiang Xichen was still sixteen, coming to Cloud Recesses with Wei Wuxian to study for three months. But the Lan Wanyin now is different from the boy he used to know—more mature, powerful, independent and resolute.
Jiang Xichen doesn’t know how many years it has been since his death as the Yiling Patriarch.
Is it already too late for him to hope to return to the happy times before the Siege, before the Sunshot campaign, before Lotus Pier burned down? To return to the past when they were still young and naïve youths, studying in Cloud Recesses, back to the times when all they had to worry about was what would be on Lan Qiren’s next test?
Of course not. Of course he can’t.
Not anymore.
Jiang Xichen laughs bitterly, turning onto his side and eventually drifts off to a night of fitful sleep with dreams of the past.
Notes:
1. Haitang (Malus spectabilis) is a species of crabapple native to China. The "tang" (棠) part of haitang provides a rebus for 堂 which is also "tang" but means hall, and by extension, ‘the family home’. Giving this flower to Baixue Temple is part of symbolism, and making Jiang Xichen destroy it shortly after being summoned... is also part of symbolism. Back
2. Shifu: teacher, skilled person. Back
3. Sòng Huàn 宋瑍 (Courtesy name: Sòng HéngYì 宋恒义)
- Disciple of Baixue Temple, Song Lan is his shixiong (senior disciple)
- Summoned Jiang Xichen back with the Sacrificial Ritual
- His birth name Huàn 瑍 means “bright and lustrous, be upright” which contrasts with Lan Huan’s Huàn 涣 which means “to dissipate”
- His courtesy name can be broken down to Héng 恒 “perseverance/willpower” and Yì 义 “loyalty” BackPlease note that unlike in traditional chinese beliefs, the Golden Core in this fic would be located at the chest (near the heart) instead of at the abdomen. Also, the 'qin' in this fic refers to the 'guqin' which roughly means ancient qin. However as it is set in ancient imperial times, I will refer to it as 'qin' only.
Chapter Text
<FLASHBACK>
Back when Jiang Xichen was still sixteen and the indisputable heir to Yunmeng Jiang Sect, there had been a period when he and Wei Wuxian were both sent to Cloud Recesses to study under a virtuous and prestigious elder in the Gusu Lan Sect—Lan Qiren.
Everyone in the cultivation world would describe Lan Qiren with three words: pedantic, stubborn, and austere. However, despite their distaste for his dogmatic ways, it is undeniable that Lan Qiren produced outstanding students. There is even a rumour that goes like this: no matter how pathetic and useless a student initially is, they will become a changed man after spending a few years under Lan Qiren’s tutelage.
With that in mind, parents try everything in their power to send their children to study under him, and Cloud Recesses welcomes a full attendance for their sixth consecutive year.
However, although many Sect Leaders were excited to send their heirs off to Gusu, the passion from the children themselves pale in comparison. Wei Wuxian, the second disciple of Yunmeng Jiang, is an apt example.
“Ge, tell me,” Wei Wuxian says as he throws an arm casually around his elder martial brother, Jiang Xichen’s shoulders. “Am I not decent enough as of now?”
Jiang Xichen plays along with Wei Wuxian’s antics, raising a finger to scratch at his chin while pretending to seriously ponder the question. “Do you want to hear the harsh truth or the harmless white lie?”
Wei Wuxian rolls his eyes and punches Jiang Xichen lightly in the stomach. Jiang Xichen takes it in stride, chuckling as he returns the blow with a friendly slap to Wei Wuxian’s back and a playful ruffle of his hair. They continue with their playful banter until someone squeezes between them.
“Hey, I have a question! Say, the Lotus Pier of the Jiang Sect is definitely much more fun than here, right?”
Wei Wuxian pulls away, chuckling as he folds his arms across his chest. “That depends. There’s definitely less rules than the Lan Sect, and there’s no need to wake up so early either. But after you wake up, there’s plenty of things to do, like... boating, swimming, picking lotus pods, and pheasant hunting!”
“That’s it!” Another youth interjects, eyes sparkling with wonder under his open decorative paper fan. Jiang Xichen recognizes him—the Second Young Master of Qinghe Nie Sect, Nie Huaisang. “Next year, I’m definitely going to Yunmeng to study! Nobody can hold me back!”
The disciples from the other sects laugh, bumping shoulders with Nie Huaisang as they pass by him. “Nobody would hold you back. Your older brother would just break your legs!”
Nie Huaisang makes a face at the mention of his elder brother, his shoulders drooping slightly. Wei Wuxian pats him on his back.
Everyone present had heard the rumours regarding the argument between the Nie brothers in one form or another. Nie Huaisang isn’t the studious kind, and would very much rather spend his days idly dabbling in art and painting fans. Unfortunately, Nie Mingjue is known to be extremely stern and resolute, not even letting up an inch when it comes to his younger brother’s studies. In a fit of anger during an argument a year ago, he sent Nie Huaisang all the way to Gusu and told him not to come home until he passed all his classes with distinctions.
“Well, don’t worry too much, Nie-xiong. Other than their three thousand rules, Gusu can be quite fun as well. I’m sure I can find a way to bend several of them and find things that are equally enjoyable to do in this boring place!”
Nie Huaisang pauses mid-step, covering his mouth with his fan as he lowers his voice to a whisper. “Wei-xiong, since we are friends, let me give you a piece of advice. There's one person here who you should be extremely wary of."
“Who? Lan Qiren?”
"No, not that old man. The one you need to be careful of is his proudest disciple—Lan Zhan."
Wei Wuxian raises a brow. "Lan Zhan? As in the First Jade of Lan, Lan Wangji?"
Jiang Xichen perks up at the mention of a familiar name. He has been silent beside Wei Wuxian all this while, but now, he leans over, curious at the sudden change in the flow of the conversation. "I've met Lan Wangji at several sect meetings before. However, apart from his oppressive aura, there's nothing really scary about him."
Nie Huaisang blanches, snapping his fan shut with an audible click. "T-That's only because you haven't heard the rumours!"
"What rumours?" Wei Wuxian interjects quickly, interested.
Nie Huaisang’s voice drops to a whisper and he beckons Jiang Xichen and Wei Wuxian over. The three of them huddle close as Nie Huaisang continues his gossip.
"They said that Lan Wangji dragged a rule-breaker for a hundred strikes with the discipline rod!”
Jiang Xichen scoffs. Just strikes with a discipline rod? Knowing how strict Lan Wangji is for keeping to the rules and how adamant he is at dishing out punishment, Jiang Xichen had honestly expected something a lot worse and painful. "That's still manageable.”
“M-Manageable?! Jiang-xiong, have you seen the size of that rod?! Fifty whole strikes on his palms and fifty on his bum. That poor guy’s hands were swollen to the size of pig trotters.1 He couldn't even sit or walk straight for three days after that!"
"That's still better," Jiang Xichen insists, brushing the rest of Nie Huaisang’s unvoiced comments away with a simple wave of his hand. “Let me tell you, I met the Second Jade of Lan yesterday, and he charged at me with his sword."
"W-What did you do?"
Jiang Xichen holds up two fingers. "One, sneaking in after curfew, and two, bringing alcohol in."
"Good going, Ge," Wei Wuxian nods his head smugly.
Jiang Xichen slaps him on his back, chuckling. "That's when you should reprimand me for flouting the rules, Wei Wuxian."
"But wouldn't that be hypocritical when I want to do exactly the same?" Wei Wuxian jabs back and the two brothers erupt into peals of laughter.
Nie Huaisang facepalms. “Exactly where and how did you run into Lan Wanyin, Jiang-xiong?”
“Right there.” Jiang Xichen points over his shoulder at the top of a very tall wall a little ways from their assigned classroom. “So the thing is, Wei Wuxian spotted this liquor shop selling ‘Emperor’s Smile’ on our way here, and that alcohol is simply exquisite—nothing like the ones back at Yunmeng. Coincidentally, I remembered about Emperor’s Smile when I was tossing and turning all night yesterday, and they say alcohol helps you sleep better, so I went down into the city and bought back two jars.”
Wei Wuxian blinks. “Then where’s the liquor?”
Jiang Xichen shakes his head regretfully. “Well, I was caught by Lan Wanyin before I even managed to get both legs over the wall. He wanted me to move my right leg that had already stepped in back out. But of course there is no way I would willingly stay outside Cloud Recesses until the Hour of Chen2—it’s too cold up in these mountains. So, I asked him to do me a favour and just pretend he never saw me. But then, he came up to the top of the wall, light as a feather, and asked me what I had in my hands.”
“Jiang-xiong…” Nie Huaisang’s face turns green with an inexplicable feeling of anxiety building up in him. “What did you say?”
A corner of Jiang Xichen’s lips lift in a crooked smile as he re-enacts the scene yesterday by stretching out his right hand to Nie Huaisang, as if he is holding the same two jars of alcohol. "Don't be so uptight. It's a full moon today, a perfect chance to drink with a beauty like yourself. Won't you join me?"
Nie Huaisang’s jaw drops right open. Wei Wuxian doubles over in laughter.
“Did… did he drink?”
“Of course not. He flat-out refused me, so I teased him by asking if he was afraid of getting drunk. Then guess what? He turned as red as a maiden in love, and charged at me with his sword!”
“You fought?! Jiang-xiong, fighting without permission is prohibited in Cloud Recesses!”
“I know, so I didn’t return any blows. It took me so much effort to dodge all of them, and I wanted nothing more than to escape after his first three strikes. But I knew that I’d regret it if I didn’t leave the beautiful boy something to remember me by, so I tucked a jasmine flower I picked on the way up to Cloud Recesses behind his left ear. A pretty flower for the pretty princess.”
Everyone slaps their thighs and sighs in unison. There is one same thought echoing in their minds right now—the first-ranked Young Master in the cultivation world is such a flirt!
“Wait,” Wei Wuxian interrupts the chattering of the other disciples. “Where are the two jars of liquor then?”
“I drank them.”
“Huh? Where’s my share?!”
“None. I never intended to bring any back for you in the first place. The jasmine flower was supposed to be your consolation as you watched me drink.”
“But I’m allergic to jasmine flowers, Ge!”
Jiang Xichen smirks. “That’s the point.”
“Ge, you—!”
However, before Wei Wuxian even manages to finish his sentence, Jiang Xichen feels a glare full of murderous intent directed at the back of his neck, sending a chill running down the length of his spine.
Jiang Xichen whips his head around at once, peering through the window into the classroom. And as expected, he finds a white-clothed boy sitting in a rigidly upright position, emitting an aura of ice and frost.
Jiang Xichen meets his piercing golden gaze. “Lan Wangji…”
Upon hearing the name, all the other guest disciples instantly fall silent. They quickly enter the room in a single file and quietly pick out the furthest available seats from Lan Wangji. Jiang Xichen follows suit, unable to shake off the feeling that Lan Wangji’s eyes are following him across the room.
Wei Wuxian taps his shoulder, leaning in to whisper. “Ge, what on earth did you do to him?”
Jiang Xichen shrugs, bending slightly to hiss a reply back to his brother. “Maybe it’s just because I’m the only one he recognizes here? Look at him, Wei Wuxian, does the poor guy look like he has friends?”
Wei Wuxian casts a judgmental glance at Lan Wangji, eyes narrowing slightly before they brighten suddenly, and he skips off towards Lan Wangji. “I’ll go befriend the lonely boy then!”
Jiang Xichen opens his mouth, wanting to yell after his brother, but Lan Qiren chooses that exact moment to walk into the classroom. He eyes everyone in the room darkly, before opening the scroll in his hand and starts talking about the rules of the Lan Sect.
Everyone settles into their seats immediately, not daring to make another sound. Jiang Xichen does the same, slipping into a seat at the back of the class. He glances periodically over at Wei Wuxian, who is diagonally across the room from him—in the seat right next to Lan Wangji.
And just as Jiang Xichen fears, it doesn’t take long before Wei Wuxian gets bored with the lesson and begins fidgeting restlessly.
Lan Qiren slams the scroll in his hand down on the ground.
“I am only repeating these rules one by one because nobody read them although they are all carved onto the rock wall at the entrance. But even if I take the time and effort to do something like this, there are still people who do not wish to pay attention. In that case, I shall proceed to talk about something more relatable then.”
Lan Qiren smiles bitterly at Wei Wuxian. Jiang Xichen sighs.
“Wei Ying. Let me ask you. Are yao, mo, gui, guai the same?”
Wei Wuxian grins. “No.”
“Why not? How are they differentiated?”
“Yao are formed from living, non-human beings; mo are formed from living humans; gui are formed from dead humans; guai are formed from dead, non-human beings.”
“The terms 'yao’ and 'guai' are often mixed up. Give me an example that distinguishes the two.”
“That’s easy.” Wei Wuxian points at the viridian tree outside the classroom. “For instance, if a living tree was tainted by energy and cultivated itself into a conscious being that causes mischief, it would be classified as a fae, a ‘yao’. If I took an axe and cut it in the middle, so that only a dead tree-stump was left, and it then cultivates into a being, it would then be labelled as a monster, a 'guai'."
“What was the profession of the progenitor of the Qinghe Nie Sect?”
“A butcher.”
“The heraldry of the Lanling Jin Sect is a white peony. Which type of white peony is it?”
“Sparks Amidst Snow.”
“Who was the first in the cultivation world to focus on the rise of his clan rather than his sect?”
“The founder of the Qishan Wen Sect, Wen Mao.”
Everyone watches with bated breaths as Wei Wuxian answers all of Lan Qiren's questions fluently.
From the corner of his eye, Jiang Xichen spots Nie Huaisang five seats away from him. Nie Huaisang's eyes are screwed firmly closed, and his hands are gripping his fan so tightly that his knuckles turn white.
Jiang Xichen averts his gaze. He can feel Nie Huaisang's nervousness all the way from here. The poor boy is definitely praying for Wei Wuxian not to be stumped by any questions, so Lan Qiren will not have the opportunity to pick on other people.
“There is absolutely nothing to be proud of even if you answered my previous questions correctly, Wei Ying. You are a disciple of the Yunmeng Jiang Sect. You should have known these answers by heart. Let me ask you again—there is an executioner with a family. He executed more than a hundred people, and to punish him for his misdeeds, his body was left on the streets for seven days after his death. With the repressed energy of resentment building up in him, he started to haunt and kill. What should be done?”
Wei Wuxian does not answer immediately. Instead, he raises a finger to his chin, tilting his head, and appears to be deep in thought. The other panicking students quickly assume that Wei Wuxian is confused, and they start whispering amongst themselves.
“What are the rest of you doing?!” Lan Qiren snaps. “Think about the answer as well! And don’t you dare open your books!”
The disciples quickly retract their hands away from their textbooks. Truth be told, they are all confused as well—there is no doubt that the executioner would have become a fierce corpse. Fierce corpses are known to be notoriously difficult to deal with and the students quickly lower their heads, praying that Lan Qiren wouldn’t pick on them to answer.
After a few moments of silence, Lan Qiren seemingly decides that Wei Wuxian does not know the answer, and turns his attention to Lan Wangji instead. “Wangji, tell him what should be done.”
Lan Wangji nods respectfully to his uncle, Lan Qiren, and answers in a perfectly monotonous voice.
“First, liberate; second, suppress; third, eliminate. The initial approach is to grant his dying wish and solve whatever regrets he may have. If that fails, suppress it. If the crimes committed were extremely wrongful, and its energy of resentment does not dissipate, exterminate it completely. The cultivation world should follow this precise order. No errors are allowed.”
Everyone lets out a long breath, thanking the Heavens that the one Lan Qiren selected was Lan Wangji. If it were any of them, they would have likely either overlooked several steps or mixed up the order.
“Not a single mistake.” Lan Qiren nods with satisfaction at Lan Wangji’s answer. “No matter in terms of cultivation or as a person, one needs to be as humble and meticulous as this. If one becomes complacent and proud just because they defeated a few simple mountain beings in their home and hold some empty reputations, they would definitely bring disgrace upon themselves sooner or later.”
Wei Wuxian’s back stiffens at Lan Qiren’s jibe. Jiang Xichen sighs, rubbing his temples—here he goes again.
“I have a question.”
“Speak.”
“Although ‘liberation’ comes first, it is often impossible. ‘To grant his dying wish’ sounds simple, but what if the wish was to kill for revenge?”
Lan Wangji turns to Wei Wuxian. “Thus, suppression assists liberation. If it is necessary, elimination would also follow.”
“Such a waste,” Wei Wuxian tuts. “It wasn’t that I didn’t know of this answer, I was only thinking of a fourth path.”
Lan Qiren raises a brow. “I have never heard of any fourth paths.”
“That's because no one ever tries to think out of the box! See, since the executioner died in such a way, it is only natural that he turned into a fierce corpse. Since he executed more than a hundred people before his death, why don't we dig up the graves of these people, arouse their energy of resentment, and use them to fight with the fierce corpse?”
Lan Wangji glowers at Wei Wuxian, his brows furrowed in displeasure.
“H-How dare you!” Lan Qiren roars, his shoulders quivering in anger. “The essence of exorcising demons and annihilating ghosts has always been to liberate! Instead of studying the methods of liberation, you ignore ethics and morality and waste time thinking about increasing the corpses’ resentment!”
Wei Wuxian crosses his arms over his chest. “There are some things that have no use after liberation, so why not find a way to make use of them? When Yu the Great tamed the flood, obstruction was the inferior method, and redirection was the superior. Suppression is the same as obstruction, so isn’t it inferior—”
Lan Qiren hurls a book at Wei Wuxian, but the latter easily dodges it and continues speaking. “Spiritual energy is energy; resentment energy is also energy. Spiritual energy is stored in the dantian. It can split mountains and fill oceans, available for human use. If so, then why can’t resentment energy also be used by humans?”
Lan Qiren hurls another book at Wei Wuxian. “Then, let me ask you again! How do you make sure that the resentment energy only listens to you and does not harm others?”
“Well, I haven’t found a solution for that yet!”
Lan Qiren’s brows twitch from rage, his face turning an ugly shade of red. “If you found a solution, the cultivation world would not allow your existence! Get out!”
Jiang Xichen groans inwardly as Wei Wuxian happily skips out of the classroom. This brother of his…
Enraged, Lan Qiren remains standing at the front of the class, fists clenched and shaking, his face changing to a dark shade of purple. Then, after a long pause, Lan Qiren finally lets out a huff and settles behind his desk, announcing an impromptu self-study session.
All the disciples gladly flip through their books, pretending to read their notes.
On the other hand, Jiang Xichen peers out of the window next to his seat, and catches sight of the very same wall he met Lan Wanyin on yesterday—the boy who is one head shorter than him, pale skin glowing almost ethereally in the moonlight, steel blue eyes flashing with a myriad of barely-concealed emotions.
He can still recall the warmth from Lan Wanyin’s reddened ear when he tucked the flower behind it.
Jiang Xichen coughs into his hand to hide a smile tugging the corners of his lips up, and turns back to his books. From the corner of his eye, he spots Lan Wangji scowling at him. It is not his usual monotonous indifference when they run into each other at sect meetings. It’s as if Lan Wangji could see right through to the thoughts in his mind.
Jiang Xichen shudders involuntarily.
Lan Wanyin, the Second Jade of Lan, is truly like a sheltered princess, with an overprotective elder brother to boot.
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
Jiang Xichen and Nie Huaisang find Wei Wuxian on a roof after classes. Wei Wuxian is sitting on the grey tiles of the ledge, holding a piece of grass in his mouth. His right hand is under his cheek, and he instantly brightens up and leaps down from the wall when he sees the two approaching.
"Wei-xiong! How admirable of you! He told you to get out, and you really went outside! After you went out, a long time passed before Lan Qiren came to terms with what happened. His face was so purple!"
"He asked, and I answered. He told me to get out, so I left. Surely he can't fault me for following instructions?" Wei Wuxian shrugs, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
Jiang Xichen chuckles.
"But I must say, Wei-xiong's words were really quite interesting. Spiritual energy can only be obtained through cultivation and taking great pains to form a golden core. But, resentment energy is from ferocious ghouls and does not rely on the individual's level of cultivation. If we can easily harvest and use that, then it would be beyond wonderful."
"Of course it is, it's the grand idea from all our late-night discussions, right, Ge?" Wei Wuxian waggles his brows at Jiang Xichen.
Jiang Xichen raps his knuckles lightly on the crown of Wei Wuxian’s head.
"It's fun to think about," Jiang Xichen admits. "But if you propose it as a theory, people would start thinking that you're taking it seriously."
"Oh come on," Wei Wuxian jests, shaking his head. "No one will pay attention to what I say. You're the Sect Heir, the accomplished one—and I'm just your sidekick. Your words carry the weight of the world and the face of the Yunmeng Jiang Sect. But mine? No one will pay it any mind!"
Both Nie Huaisang and Wei Wuxian chuckle, finding comfort in being the younger brothers of accomplished men, perfectly content with living in their shadows and supporting their brothers from behind.
Jiang Xichen understands this, and he gladly takes on that role, making sure that he works twice as hard as others, ensuring that he shines twice as brightly as his peers—because only when he becomes the best, can his siblings hide comfortably in his shadow, away from society’s judgmental stares.
Because Jiang Xichen knows exactly how the cultivation world views his family.
His parents are not in love. They are cold and unfeeling to each other, with the only thing holding them together being the marriage alliance between Yunmeng Jiang and Meishan Yu. But despite that, both of them genuinely care for Lotus Pier, and Jiang Xichen wants to protect the place he calls home, alongside them.
His elder sister, Jiang Yanli, is not gifted at cultivation, but she always places family first, and Jiang Xichen wants to protect her kindness. Wei Wuxian might be seen as rowdy and undisciplined, but his intelligence and positivity is unrivalled, and Jiang Xichen wants to protect his smile.
"Ge?" Wei Wuxian turns to him, raising a brow.
Jiang Xichen pushes such thoughts away and catches up to the two younger teenagers. "Well, at the very least, I know there is at least one man in the world who cares about whatever you say."
"Who?"
Jiang Xichen smirks. "Lan Qiren."
Wei Wuxian makes a face.
Nie Huaisang clears his throat and mimics Lan Qiren's tone. "Ask Wei Wuxian to copy the Virtue section of Righteousness three times. That boy ought to learn what natural law and morality is."
"Three times?! I'd fly up to Heaven if I even copied it once. Ge, help me? Your calligraphy is way better than mine!"
"Wouldn't it be obvious that someone helped you then?"
"Not if you helped me copy it all!"
Jiang Xichen shudders, backing away. Holding weights in the horse stance he can do, kneeling for hours in the ancestral hall is alright too, but copying rules? Willingly copying rules?
No way, he'd rather die.
Jiang Xichen glances around, desperately trying to find something that would help him get out of his predicament—and his saviour comes in the form of a boy a head shorter than him, dressed in familiar white Gusu Lan robes, the tails of his forehead ribbon trailing behind him as he rounds the corner.
"Sorry but I already have plans for the day. Good luck with copying!"
"Huh? Wait, Ge!" Wei Wuxian calls after him, but Jiang Xichen has already taken off running, speeding towards Lan Wanyin.
"Lan er-gongzi, wait for me!"
"Ge!" Wei Wuxian yells, all prepared to chase after Jiang Xichen, but Nie Huaisang is quick to distract him by offering to help Wei Wuxian copy the text in exchange for a favour.
"Lan er-gongzi?" Jiang Xichen tries again when he catches up to the latter. However, Lan Wanyin simply ignores him, not even bothering to inform Jiang Xichen that running is prohibited in Cloud Recesses. Lan Wanyin arms are full of scrolls of varying sizes, and he looks resolutely ahead, picking up his pace as he stalks towards his destination.
Jiang Xichen simply trails behind him for the next few minutes, hands behind his head, basking in the silence until he finally gets bored.
“Lan Wanyin? Wanyin-xiong?”
When neither name gets a response, Jiang Xichen leans in and whispers softly against Lan Wanyin's ear, hot breath fanning the sensitive shell. "Wanyin~?"
A shiver runs through Lan Wanyin's body. He whirls around, face burning hot and eyes flashing with anger. "Jiang Xichen, you—!"
Jiang Xichen beams at the sight, lips curling into a teasing smile. “Oh? So the esteemed Lan er-gongzi knows my name? I’m flattered.”
Lan Wanyin scoffs. “Of course I know the name of the first-ranked Young Master in the cultivation world!”
The grin on Jiang Xichen’s face widens, tilting into the beginnings of a smirk. “But you obviously didn’t know my name yesterday, or you would have reported it to your uncle and he wouldn’t have had the misconception that the Jiang disciple you spotted last night was Wei Wuxian.”
Lan Wanyin averts his gaze, swallowing dryly as he takes a small step backward.
Cute, Jiang Xichen finds himself thinking, and he plays along—taking one step forward, then another, and another, watching Lan Wanyin backing away step for step, until the latter’s back hits the wall.
Lan Wanyin’s eyes widen in alarm at the realisation of his predicament and he is quick to turn to the side, but Jiang Xichen is faster, arm whipping forth to block Lan Wanyin’s path, his palm pressing firmly against the wall. Knowing that he is cornered, Lan Wanyin grumpily turns back to Jiang Xichen, scowling up at him and fuming silently.
Jiang Xichen chuckles at the range of emotions flickering through Lan Wanyin’s expressive steel blue eyes—anger, embarrassment, panic, frustration—and he bends down until their foreheads almost touch.
“Wanyin, you checked up on me?”
Lan Wanyin stiffens at that statement, his arms tightening around the scrolls he is hugging to his chest. The motion squeezes two of the smaller scrolls out of the bundle, and Jiang Xichen catches them with ease before they hit the ground.
“I’ll help you with these,” Jiang Xichen offers, holding out his hand for more scrolls.
"I-I do not require your assistance!" Lan Wanyin snaps, preparing to slap his hand away. However, Jiang Xichen has already grabbed more than half of the scrolls from Lan Wanyin. “You—!”
“This isn’t ‘helping’. Think of it as ‘volunteering’.” Jiang Xichen winks.
The blush on Lan Wanyin's face darkens. He opens his mouth to speak, then closes it again, as if not knowing what to rebuke Jiang Xichen with. Jiang Xichen sees this, and his smile widens as he tucks the scrolls securely under his arm.
"Where to?" Jiang Xichen asks, and Lan Wanyin sighs, finally giving in.
"The Library Pavilion."1
Notes:
1. Swollen to the size of pig trotters is based on a chinese phrase 肿得像猪蹄 which suggests that an area (usually a limb) is so swollen that it now resembles the size and shape of a pig trotter. Back
2. Hour of chen/chén shí (辰时): seven in the morning. Back***
I love Jiang Xichen's interaction with Wei Wuxian here. They are such gremlins together, the poor Lan brothers will have to suffer from the Shuangjie's blinding charisma 💕
As usual, thank you for reading! Here's a little extra, in Lan Wanyin's point of view featuring how he learned Jiang Xichen's name.
Jiang Xichen is a genius. Kind, outgoing, intelligent, talented, handsome, a true master of the six arts—that's the description stated beside Jiang Xichen's name, which takes the first place on list of Young Masters.
Lan Wanyin furrows his brows. There must have been a mistake!
How is it possible that his xiongzhang, Lan Wangji, is second to this obnoxious guy?!
Perhaps if it were yesterday, before he actually met Jiang Xichen, he would have begrudgingly accepted the results of the poll. But now?
Lan Wanyin crumbles the papers in his hands.Jiang Xichen is nothing like what the rumors say.
Kind and outgoing? He's just free-spirited!
Intelligent and talented? He's just showing off!
Handsome? Well, Lan Wanyin can give him that, at least.
B-But even so, he has no wish to befriend Jiang Xichen!
He doesn't want to have anything to do with a rule-breaker, with someone who would try to sneak into Cloud Recesses after curfew, and with two jars of Emperor's Smile, no less!
And when he confronted Jiang Xichen, the guy—that shameless guy actually...!!!
"Etiquette, Didi."
"X-Xiongzhang!" Lan Wanyin greets, immediately schooling his features back into neutrality. "I have a favour to ask."
"Mn."
Lan Wanyin pulls out a jasmine flower from his sleeve, hesitating slightly.
"Can you teach me how to make pressed flowers? I want to make a bookmark."
Jasmine scene and Jiang Xichen helping Lan Wanyin with scrolls (artist: Sha) Back
Chapter 4: Reminiscence II
Notes:
The archery stances and procedures used in this chapter is based off on Japanese archery (kyudo) and not Chinese archery because the former is what I am more familiar with.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
<FLASHBACK>
Despite Jiang Xichen’s initial complaints, he had still taken pity on Wei Wuxian when he returned to their shared room that night.
He knows that Wei Wuxian hates these mundane forms of punishment even more than Jiang Xichen himself does, and he had very much expected the latter to ignore Lan Qiren, but instead, he finds a drooling Wei Wuxian at the desk, with two complete copies of Virtue to his right, and his cheek pressed up against his latest page.
An amazing feat, Jiang Xichen muses. But Wei Wuxian’s scrawl is nearly indiscernible.
Jiang Xichen shakes his head with mirth, and pries the calligraphy brush out of Wei Wuxian’s hand before helping his brother to his bed. Wei Wuxian doesn’t even stir even as Jiang Xichen meticulously wipes the drying ink off his fingertips and cheek.
“This is the last time I’m helping you,” Jiang Xichen announces, lightly flicking Wei Wuxian’s forehead.
Wei Wuxian scrunches his face up and turns onto his side, mumbling incoherently in his sleep. Jiang Xichen scoffs at the sight, tucking the blanket snugly around Wei Wuxian's shoulders, before settling behind the writing desk, all prepared to stay up for the rest of the night to help Wei Wuxian finish his last copy of Virtue.
He doesn't really mind helping, actually. He is also partly to blame for humouring Wei Wuxian during their late-night discussions about resentment energy.
Yet in hindsight, Jiang Xichen thinks he probably shouldn’t have helped. He should have slapped Wei Wuxian up and gotten him to copy the rules by himself—because Wei Wuxian definitely didn’t learn his lesson, and had gotten himself into trouble again after another mere three days.
And this time, it is definitely not something Jiang Xichen can help him out of, because Lan Qiren had caught him red-handed for cheating, and Jiang Xichen has a feeling this is the last straw.
After all, Lan Qiren’s distaste for Wei Wuxian is barely a secret at this point.
“Why can’t you be better behaved like your shixiong!” Lan Qiren explodes with anger, his face turning an ugly shade of red as he rips the stack of copied notes into two with his bare hands.
“That’s because you like to test everything, from generational changes of important clans, to famous quotes by prolific cultivators, to unimportant information about family trees. There’s no way anyone would want to waste the time and effort to remember all these details!”
“Are you saying that knowing your roots and heritage isn’t important?!”
Wei Wuxian shrugs. “Knowing the roots and names of all the sect leaders who made the cultivation world as diverse as it is today is indeed important, but knowing the name of the niece of an inconsequential sect leader known for nothing other than womanising simply isn’t.”
A pause the length of three heartbeats drags on awkwardly between them.
“Get out!” Lan Qiren thunders, when Wei Wuxian’s words finally sink in. He tosses the paper scraps at Wei Wuxian, who gladly runs out of the classroom this time as well.
Lan Qiren remains standing at the front of the class, fists clenched and shaking, his face changing to a dark shade of purple. Then, after a long pause, he finally lets out a huff.
“The rest of you can leave as well. The test will be postponed.”
The disciples quickly file out of the classroom, anxious to get out before Lan Qiren changes his mind again.
The only one who lingers behind is Jiang Xichen. He glances over at Lan Qiren, weighing his decision.
Growing up with parents who didn't get along, Jiang Xichen had honed his skill of reading people, especially when it involves anger, and it is obvious to him that Lan Qiren is beyond furious this time. It doesn't take a genius to know that it is highly likely Lan Qiren would inform his father, Jiang Fengmian, about what happened today, then forcefully send Wei Wuxian back to Yunmeng—and that is the very last thing Jiang Xichen wants to see happen.
Jiang Xichen knows about his mother's inherent dislike for Wei Wuxian because of what he represents, and he is sure that without him there to mitigate the situation, the animosity between his family members would only ceaselessly build up and all the effort Jiang Xichen had put in over the years would come to waste.
Incurring Lan Qiren's wrath for speaking up on Wei Wuxian's behalf pales in comparison, Jiang Xichen decides, and approaches the elder with a respectful bow.
Lan Qiren raises a brow inquisitively at him, silently giving him a once-over.
“If you are here to plead for him, you can save your breath. Nothing you say would change my mind. I have never met a student who is more unruly than him. He goads other students into making mischief alongside him and shows no remorse for any of his wrongdoings. I have absolutely no wish to teach such a person!”
Jiang Xichen lowers his head further, bending even more to show his sincerity.
“This student would like to ask for a reconsideration of your decision again. Wei Wuxian may appear rude and unruly but his heart is in the right place."
"The right place?" Lan Qiren repeats, scoffing.
"Indeed. The Lan Sect values curiosity and a never-ending thirst for knowledge. Wei Wuxian's interest in resentment energy may be ill-placed but with the correct guidance, he would be able to turn the passion in him into something beneficial to the cultivation world."
Lan Qiren raises a brow, eyeing Jiang Xichen closely as he strokes his beard, deep in thought.
“I assure you that Wei Wuxian will not break another Lan Sect rule during the duration of his stay here.”
“Enough. There is no need to make empty promises which that boy would definitely be unable to keep,” Lan Qiren says with an audible sigh. “Ask him to copy both Virtue and Conduct in the Library Pavilion everyday after classes for the next month. I will assign Wangji to watch him.”
Jiang Xichen peers up at Lan Qiren. It isn’t that he had expected a lighter punishment for Wei Wuxian, but sending someone to monitor Wei Wuxian could only mean one thing—Lan Qiren knows that someone else helped Wei Wuxian to copy the rules.
Jiang Xichen’s posture stiffens, heart sinking.
Lan Qiren clears his throat. “While Wei Ying is undertaking his punishment, I will have you do something else as well. I am sure you are well-acquainted with Gusu Lan's archery training grounds.”
Jiang Xichen swallows thickly. “Yes, I have been there on several occasions.”
“And as the heir to the Yunmeng Jiang Sect famous for their archery skills, I am sure you are knowledgeable in the maintenance procedures for bows.”
Jiang Xichen keeps his head bowed. If cleaning and repairing bows is enough to keep Lan Qiren from informing his father about the cheating incident, that’s a terribly small price to pay.
“It would be my honour to assist the Gusu Lan Sect.”
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
Jiang Xichen sits in the middle of Gusu Lan's archery training field, a bow in his lap and a quiver of arrows to his right.
He is all alone here right now, with the rare few Lan disciples passing by casting curious glances over at the person dressed in another sect's robes. However, none of them are brave enough to approach him, and quite frankly, Jiang Xichen actually prefers it as such. It is strangely peaceful just being here with the sun bright and high in the afternoon sky, a light breeze cool and gentle against his skin, and the comforting weight of a familiar weapon in his hand.
Jiang Xichen runs the edge of a cloth along the length of the bow, conscientiously removing the dirt and grime from its body. He did this often back in Yunmeng, as they clean their bows after every training session—and Jiang Xichen runs the cloth under every nook and cranny with practised ease, sliding it from the nocks to the grip and back again.
He does this twice, humming a merry tune under his breath as he turns the bow over to check the bow string.
The bowstring is the part that requires the most frequent maintenance, and it’s obvious from the very first glance that Gusu Lan isn’t up to date with that. The string is fraying a little, oddly warped in certain areas, and Jiang Xichen quickly undoes the series of knots holding it in place, replacing it with a brand new one.
Jiang Xichen wastes no time in adjusting the tightness, looping the strings into the nocks to secure them before waxing its surface, using the heat from his fingers to melt the wax into the fibres.
It doesn’t take him very long to finish the maintenance on one bow, but Jiang Xichen takes his time with it anyway, enjoying the relaxing process as he carefully and meticulously works through every step.
Next, Jiang Xichen wipes off his hands on the cloth and gets to his feet, with the bow in one hand and an arrow in the other. He turns to face the target board, eyeing the red spot in the middle which is already riddled with arrows.
Jiang Xichen curls his lips into a triumphant smile, feeling the adrenaline rush building in him as he slides his feet shoulder-width apart and settles into the proper archery stance, the stance that has been drilled into him since young. Jiang Xichen releases a breath he doesn’t know he had been holding, and keeps his eyes trained on the target as he notches the arrow, the sensation of the feather fletching familiar against his fingers.
Then, he lifts the bow above his head, drawing it steadily to his anchor point1 while lowering it to eye level. He holds it in that exact position for a moment, feeling the nostalgic contractions of his back muscles before he releases the fingers on his right hand. The arrow surges forward, cutting through the air with a swish, and embeds itself neatly into the centre.
A sharp intake of breath from behind has Jiang Xichen whirling around to meet a pair of steel blue eyes.
“Wanyin," the Jiang Sect Heir greets, immediately brightening up. "Why are you here?"
Lan Wanyin tears his gaze away from the target board. "Shufu sent me to check your progress."
"I'm progressing much faster than expected." Jiang Xichen gestures to the row of bows neatly lined up at the side of the training area, each one of them looking as good as new. "I might actually be done with them all well ahead of time."
"Unfortunately, quantity does not always equate quality."
"Do you want to try then?" Jiang Xichen quips, cocking his head to the side as he holds the bow he had just tested out to Lan Wanyin with the glint of a challenge in his eyes.
He had always known that Lan Wangji is gifted at archery—being almost on par with Wei Wuxian and himself—but the Second Lan Young Master's skill with the bow remains a complete mystery, and with his title of Best Archer in his generation on the line, and a Discussion Conference with a shooting competition coming up within a year, Jiang Xichen is definitely curious.
"Not confident?" Jiang Xichen taunts, eyeing the latter with a smirk.
And as expected, Lan Wanyin huffs indignantly and snatches the offered bow with a flourish.
Jiang Xichen takes a step back and presses his lips together into a tight line, holding back his laughter. It's funny how easily he can rile up Lan Wanyin and get him flushed with anger.
Jiang Xichen takes another step back at that, crossing his arms and watches contemplatively as Lan Wanyin grabs an arrow from the quiver and prepares himself to shoot.
The stance for Gusu Lan differs from Yunmeng Jiang, and Lan Wanyin draws the bow as he raises it instead, pulling the string back towards his anchor point.
Jiang Xichen notices Lan Wanyin's inexperience with the bow nearly at once. It is evident in the way he sets his front shoulder too high, in the way he doesn't account for the slight shift in the wind—and as expected, Lan Wanyin releases the arrow a tad too early, and it lands just slightly off-centre on the target board.
“Hm, could be better,” Jiang Xichen smirks, uncrossing his arms as he strides over to Lan Wanyin, picking up an arrow on the way. He stops right behind Lan Wanyin, with them mere centimetres apart, and chuckles at the sight of the faint blush on the tips of Lan Wanyin’s ears.
This Wanyin is really too easily embarrassed, Jiang Xichen finds himself thinking, but that doesn’t change what he has to do. Just like how he teaches the younger Yunmeng Jiang disciples back at Lotus Pier, Jiang Xichen leans in and around Lan Wanyin to grab his right hand, sliding the arrow into it, and notching it onto the bow string.
Their shoulders press together with that, and Lan Wanyin stiffens at the sudden warmth blossoming against his skin.
Jiang Xichen pays it no mind, merely bending his knees to lower himself to Lan Wanyin’s height and leans in even closer, wrapping his other hand around the latter’s left one, and slides his fingers in between Lan Wanyin’s slim digits as he guides the bow up.
“Use your core more,” Jiang Xichen says, breath fanning against the shell of Lan Wanyin’s reddened ear as he turns to look at the target board. “Engage your pectoral muscles and keep your front shoulder down. Support the draw weight by aligning your bone structure into a straight line, and not solely with your muscles.”
Lan Wanyin gives a brief nod, the faintest tickling of his hair against Jiang Xichen’s jaw, and the latter laughs.
“Then, pull it to full draw,” Jiang Xichen continues, drawing the bow steadily as they raise it to Lan Wanyin’s eye level. The tips of Jiang Xichen’s fingers brushes lightly against the curve of Lan Wanyin’s soft lips, a sensation so short-lived, because the next moment, Jiang Xichen releases his hand and the arrow speeds forward, striking Jiang Xichen’s previous arrow and splitting it cleanly in half, before lodging itself firmly into the centre of the target board.
Lan Wanyin’s eyes widen in awe—and Jiang Xichen recognizes that expression. It is the same one all his shidi always give when they score their first bullseye, and Jiang Xichen reflexively stretches out a hand to pat Lan Wanyin on his head.
“Good job, Wanyin.”
Lan Wanyin curls his hands into fists, tightening his grip around the bow as he pointedly averts his gaze and ducks his head. Beside him, Jiang Xichen quietly observes the obvious hint of red building on Lan Wanyin’s cheeks, and smiles as he commits the precious sight to memory.
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
It is almost alarming how quickly Jiang Xichen and Lan Wanyin grow closer after that.
With the punishment from Lan Qiren, Jiang Xichen finds himself back at the training grounds for four hours a day after classes. He stays longer than needed, and works much slower than what he normally would, because Lan Wanyin drops by everyday in the late afternoon.
Jiang Xichen looks forward to these visits, because he enjoys the company and finds amusement in watching Lan Wanyin struggle to find a plethora of reasons for dropping by everyday. Initially, it’s all about needing to train more, or simply requiring advice from Jiang Xichen to right his shooting posture, but it quickly warps into something more.
Sometimes, Lan Wanyin simply shows up there with a book, and silently settles beside Jiang Xichen, content with reading the whole afternoon away and working out the intricacies behind a new array, while Jiang Xichen fiddles with the bows.
Jiang Xichen looks forward to these moments, because he likes them—likes watching as Lan Wanyin slowly gets increasingly engrossed the more he reads, because he hadn’t expected Lan Wanyin to be a bookworm or being naturally gifted at forming and tweaking arrays, and seeing these new sides of him make Jiang Xichen strangely pleased.
“Show me around Cloud Recesses,” Jiang Xichen demands one day, after finishing his quota for that afternoon. He leans over and bumps shoulders with Lan Wanyin, waggling his eyebrows at the latter for good measure.
Lan Wanyin glances up from his book and stares at Jiang Xichen flatly. “You’ve been here for nearly a month. You should have toured enough by now.”
“Not yet, I still don’t know a nice spot to watch the sunset.”
Lan Wanyin blinks, and Jiang Xichen inclines his head at that, a sly smirk tilting a corner of his lips up. He has hung out with Lan Wanyin long enough these past few days to understand his little quirks—it will just take another push to get him to agree.
"How about tomorrow then? I'll whip up some good food, nothing bland like what they serve here, and we can eat that while admiring the sunset!”
The younger male turns to Jiang Xichen, brows drawn together in indignation. "Cloud Recesses' food is not bland."
"Well, that's only because you haven't tasted Yunmeng's cuisine. We are famous for our scallion pancakes, pearl meatballs, hot-dry noodles as well as lotus root and pork rib soup.2 Even though the soup I make might not be on par with A-Jie’s, I’m sure it will still blow your mind away.”
Lan Wanyin eyes him blankly, seemingly unimpressed. Jiang Xichen folds his hands over his chest smugly.
“Wanyin, I’d have you know that I’m the second best chef in my family.”
Lan Wanyin rolls his eyes.
He doesn’t believe that Jiang Xichen could cook—he doesn’t believe that such a flippant man would have the patience to do something that requires so much meticulous work after all, but the dishes turn out unexpectedly good.
The plating is admittedly delicate and exquisite, and the portions still look delectable even after the detour they took around Cloud Recesses to see the Cold Springs before finally arriving at their destination up on the cliffs at the very peak of the back mountains.
“You like rabbits?” Jiang Xichen asks with a low chuckle, watching as two fluffy snow-white rabbits hop onto Lan Wanyin’s lap. The younger boy starts patting them, as if out of habit, and they quickly slump down on Lan Wanyin, noses twitching slowly as they relax.
"Not especially," Lan Wanyin replies in turn, nonchalantly, turning to Jiang Xichen. "I prefer dogs. They are cute, friendly, and loyal."
Jiang Xichen looks up from setting out the small feast of food from the basket, and cheekily leans in to bump shoulders with Lan Wanyin, his eyes narrowed slyly with mirth.
"Wanyin, ah, Wanyin. That description sounds exactly like someone I know. Could it be that you're—"
"R-Ridiculous!" Lan Wanyin tears his gaze away from Jiang Xichen rapidly, ears heating up as he grabs an unassuming scallion pancake and takes a huge bite to hide his embarrassment.
However, unbeknownst to the younger man, Jiang Xichen had prepared this dish the way he likes it, and the light sprinkle of chili flakes hidden in the layers of pastry catch on Lan Wanyin's throat. The spice burns from the very moment it comes into contact with his tongue. Lan Wanyin chokes on reflex, never having eaten something this spicy before, and he coughs the mouthful back out.
"Wanyin, are you alright?" Jiang Xichen blinks, patting the younger man on his back to soothe his coughing fit. He remembers going easy on the spices too, putting in just enough to taste. Surely the Lans can’t be this bad with spice?
"W-Water," Lan Wanyin grunts out, squeezing his eyes shut with hints of tears clinging to his eyelashes. He sticks the tip of his tongue out, blowing gently on it as his face turns a shocking shade of red.
Jiang Xichen reaches out for the water upon request, only to remember that he hadn't brought along any. Instead, he hastily scoops out a bowl of the lotus root and pork rib soup and passes it to an unsuspecting Lan Wanyin, who hastily gulps several mouthfuls down.
“Shit!” The unexpected punch of pepper against the back of his throat sends Lan Wanyin reeling and he drops the half-finished bowl of soup on his lap, staining his white robes and prompting the rabbits on his lap to scurry off.
The sudden curse word slipping from Lan Wanyin’s lips takes Jiang Xichen completely by surprise, and the latter dissolves into peals of low chuckles.
“Wan... Wanyin! Pfft, did you just...! Oh my, imagine what Teacher Lan would say if he heard you!”
“You—!”
“I see! So with the right stimulus and company, even the honourable and virtuous Second Jade of Lan would cast aside his qualms about cursing, hahaha!“
Lan Wanyin turns to him at that comment, glowering darkly despite the slight swelling of his reddening lips and the trail of tears running down his flushed cheeks. He reaches a hand over to his sword by his side, and curls his fingers around the hilt one digit at a time.
“Jiang Xichen,” Lan Wanyin seethes. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you.”
Jiang Xichen feels a chill run down his spine and he stops laughing immediately.
"Wait, Wanyin. Listen to me, I can explain. The reason why I passed you the soup instead of water is—"
Lan Wanyin unsheathes Sandu and lunges at Jiang Xichen, narrowly missing the Jiang Sect Heir by several millimetres.
"Fuck you!"
Notes:
1. The anchor point is a spot on your face that your bow string hand—or the string itself—should touch when you're at full draw. The anchor point is crucially important, because having a single spot to which you routinely draw means that you will be able to aim with consistency. Back
2. I simply googled some famous dishes from Hubei and chose a couple to use here. Please bear with me if there are any inaccuracies, and do also overlook the fact that not all of these dishes are the best suited for picnicking. Scallion pancakes (葱油饼, mentioned in the original MDZS novel when Wangxian were at Lotus Pier), pearl meatballs (珍珠丸子, steamed meatballs in sticky rice), hot-dry noodles (热干面), and lotus root and pork rib soup (which all MDZS fans should be familiar with). Back
***
I have adopted Fyre's headcanon of Lan Wanyin cursing like a sailor in his head, because deep down, he is still Jiang Cheng >w< He tries to hold back on the vulgarities that he says aloud because of the Lan Sect Rules, but occasionally... uh, he slips up.
Lan Wanyin does not know what to do with the little puppy left on the doorstep of his room the next day, or with the other two puppies who have mysteriously appeared the following day either.
Pets are not allowed in Cloud Recesses, but his uncle is on a trip and the puppies are cute so he hides them in his room instead.
He has an inkling on who is responsible for this, with the attached note that reads 'Wanyin, many apologies for the other day. I was walking down this alley in Caiyi Town when I found these three puppies and I immediately thought of you! They are nowhere near as cute as you are but I hope you'd accept them as a token of our friendship!'
The dogs are the first present anyone outside of his family gave him, and Lan Wanyin wants to treasure them.
Them—Jasmine, Princess and...
Jiang Xichen's face comes to mind, his smile bright and dashing, and Lan Wanyin flushes reflexively at the memory.
And Love.
Chapter Text
<FLASHBACK>
Wei Wuxian pokes his head out from behind a bush, ponytail swishing dramatically from side to side as he surveys the area with a quick once-over.
There are barely any obstacles nearby preventing them from scaling the low wall separating Cloud Recesses from the sweet, sweet freedom of the outside world—that is, if they get over the ginormous hurdle right in front of them first; the hurdle that comes in the form of two teenagers dressed in shades of whites and blues, conversing near the main entrance—the esteemed Two Jades of Lan.1
Wei Wuxian cups a hand around his right ear, straining his body as he leans precariously over the top of the bush, trying his best to pick up any hint of their conversation. However, he only manages to discern something regarding water ghouls in Caiyi Town before Jiang Xichen hastily tugs him back down behind the foliage.
“Stay hidden and don’t get us in trouble.”
Wei Wuxian sticks his chin out and crosses his arms over his chest in a childish form of defiance. “But Ge, you are the one that wants to sneak out to buy a make-up gift for Lan-xiong!”
Jiang Xichen rolls his eyes. “It’s not a make-up gift, he’s not even angry at me!”
“But you said he was avoiding you!”
Jiang Xichen slaps Wei Wuxian on his back, and the latter pouts, changing the topic.
“Well, first and foremost, I don’t see why we have to sneak around like this. That old fogey Lan Qiren isn’t around, what can a mere Lan Zhan do to stop me from getting what I want?”
“Just because Lan Qiren isn’t around does not mean that we can go out of Cloud Recesses as we please. It’s supposed to be a self-study period now.”
"In other words, a slacking session."
Jiang Xichen shoots him a dark look.
“Fine, fine, I get it.” Wei Wuxian purses his lips and peeks over the top of the bush again. Stealth isn’t one of Wei Wuxian’s strengths, and it’s obvious in the way he leans too far out and makes the leaves of the bush rustle.
Jiang Xichen yanks him back down. “Stop fidgeting. You’ll give us away.”
“But they don’t look like they will be moving anywhere anytime soon. What should we do?”
“We wait.”
Wei Wuxian makes a face, eyes twitching in disbelief.
Jiang Xichen raises a brow. “What’s with that look?”
“Well~” Wei Wuxian begins, voice dropping to a whisper. “I have a much better idea.”
Jiang Xichen blinks at the sly smirk that slowly spreads across Wei Wuxian’s face, feeling an unfathomable sense of discomfort and uneasiness settle at the pit of his stomach. Nothing good ever happens when Wei Wuxian smiles like this, and Jiang Xichen hurriedly dives forward in an attempt to grab Wei Wuxian, but he is a fraction of a second too late and Wei Wuxian easily twists out of the way, bounding off towards the Two Jades with a large grin on his face.
"Lan Zhan! I overheard you! You are going to exterminate water ghouls in Caiyi Town, right? Take us along!"
Lan Wangji seemingly reflexively turns his body, angling it away from Wei Wuxian, choosing to ignore the younger man as he continues speaking to Lan Wanyin. "Follow me, didi. This would be a good learning opportunity for you."
Wei Wuxian doesn't give up in the face of Lan Wangji's casual snub. Instead, he waves his hands wildly, jumping up and down in a poor attempt to get his attention.
"Lan Zhan! I know how to catch water ghouls! It'll be a good learning opportunity for me too! Bring me along!"
How terribly embarrassing…
Jiang Xichen buries his face in his hands, groaning inwardly at Wei Wuxian’s antics. He really, really should have expected something like this to happen when he agreed to ask Wei Wuxian to accompany him to Caiyi Town.
Wei Wuxian sneaks a peek over his shoulder, waggling his brows. Jiang Xichen lets out another sigh before getting to his feet and striding over to the group of three. Since Wei Wuxian went to the trouble of staging this, Jiang Xichen figures that he might as well play along.
"I know how to catch water ghouls too,” Jiang Xichen pitches in, one of his usual smiles tilting up the corners of his lips as he casually slides his gaze from Wei Wuxian to Lan Wanyin.
Their eyes meet for a short moment, molten amber boring into steel blue—until Lan Wanyin averts his gaze with a huff.
Jiang Xichen’s smile turns strained.
Did he really offend Wanyin? Was it because the soup was too spicy? Because he made fun of him when he said a curse word? Or because he practically forced three dogs on him?
Jiang Xichen takes a step forward, and Lan Wangji mirrors it, inclining his body to block Lan Wanyin from Jiang Xichen’s line of sight, before glaring at the latter darkly. "Bringing the two of you along is against the rules."
"How exactly is it against the rules?” Wei Wuxian interjects, unconvinced. “We used to catch water ghouls all the time back in Yunmeng. Besides, we don’t have proper classes these days anyways, and having two extra pairs of hands would definitely be better than none!”
Lan Wanyin peers out from behind his elder brother, brows furrowed.
Jiang Xichen clears his throat, schooling his features into one of neutrality. "That's right, we'll definitely be of help."
“It is not necessary. The Gusu Lan Sect is also—” Lan Wangji trails off mid-sentence, distracted by Lan Wanyin who gives his sleeve a small tug.
"Xiongzhang..."3
A silence falls upon the four of them, the tension so thick and palpable that it’s as if the air is frozen solid.
Lan Wangji finally responds after a while, speaking with great difficulty. “Fine.”
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
"The locals do not recognize some of the corpses," Lan Wangji explains when they land in Caiyi Town, the meaning behind his words apparent.
Wei Wuxian hums thoughtfully, folding his arms. “Usually water ghouls would only settle at the place they've drowned, and do not leave the area.”
"Mn."
Wei Wuxian trails his oar through the water, steering the boat carrying him and Jiang Xichen forward and closer to Lan Wangji's. “Also, water ghouls are really clever. If we use boats, it's highly possible that they will hide underwater and not come out. In that case, won’t we have to keep on searching aimlessly forever? What if we can’t find them?”
“We will wait until we find them. After all, we will do what we must.”
“Just by using nets?”
“Does the Yunmeng Jiang Sect have other methods?”
“Well—”
Jiang Xichen gives Wei Wuxian’s ankle a light kick. There is no way he would willingly allow Wei Wuxian to tell the uptight Gusu Lan cultivators that the Yunmeng Jiang disciples would simply dive into the lakes to drag the water ghouls out one by one. It is too unconventional of a method to publicize to the cultivation world—he can already imagine the absolute look on disdain on the Two Jades of Lan's faces.
Thankfully, Wei Wuxian catches on quickly and leaves the topic at that.
“Well... I was just thinking how great it would be if there’s something that can attract the water ghouls, like a fishing bait. Or something that can point out their direction, like a compass.”
"That's an interesting idea," Jiang Xichen adds, a proud tinge to his tone, and Lan Wangji scowls at both of them.
“Ridiculous."
"Hey, Lan Zhan, both cultivation and riding on swords used to only be part of our imagination too, you know!"
Lan Wangji turns away grumpily at Wei Wuxian’s rebuke, adamant on ignoring him. However, Wei Wuxian never liked being ignored, and before long, the pouting man starts trying various ways to get Lan Wangji’s attention again.
"Lan Zhan, look at me!"
Wei Wuxian’s oar sweeps up a splash of water and directs it toward Lan Wangji. Lan Wangji’s eyes widen a fraction from the initial shock, but he quickly hops onto Lan Wanyin's boat with a light tap of his foot, dodging the spray. “Pathetic!”
Without missing a beat, Wei Wuxian wedges his oar under the side of the boat Lan Wangji was on and flips it over to reveal three water ghouls clinging to the bottom.
Lan Wanyin immediately suppresses the ghouls with a flash of Sandu. “Wei-gongzi, how did you know that there were water ghouls under the boat?”
"Simple! The displacement of water was wrong! Lan Zhan was the only person on it, yet the displacement of his boat was greater than the boats that carried two people. This means—"
“—that there must be something clinging to the bottom of the boat,” Jiang Xichen adds, rising from where he was seated.
“Ge… Did you really need to steal the good part? I was waiting to say that!”
“And did you really need to repeat what I told you once upon a time to other people, word for word?”
“It’s called ‘learning’. I internalised what you told me, and applied it to a real-life situation.”
“Sure, sure,” Jiang Xichen scoffs, shaking his head with mirth. “I passed you the oars and the very first thing you did was to flip another person’s boat.”
“What else could I have done? If I yelled out that there were water ghouls under the boat, they would have all just swam away!”
Jiang Xichen flicks Wei Wuxian on the forehead. “Did it not occur to you that ‘whispering’ was also an option?”
A muffled chuckle comes from the neighbouring boat and Jiang Xichen whips his head over to catch Lan Wanyin pressing the back of his hand to his mouth, his shoulders shaking with silent peals of stifled laughter. Jiang Xichen blinks at the rare sight, his chest growing unnaturally warm when he notices Lan Wanyin’s flushed cheeks and the tears beading at the corners of his eyes.
As if on cue, Lan Wanyin sneaks a peak at Jiang Xichen and their gazes meet.
Lan Wanyin’s face grows impossibly redder and for a short moment, it is as if the entire world around them screeches to a stop and falls away, and all that exists is the both of them, standing on different boats, until—
“The net moved!”
Wei Wuxian beams, eyes widening with barely-contained excitement. "It's here! It's here!"
The still waters in Biling Lake start getting more choppy, droplets of water landing on the deck as waves begin splashing relentlessly against the wooden sides.
Thick, long hair looms around the boats, condensing to form veils of black satin. Pairs of ghastly hands reach out from within the darkness and grip onto gunwales,2 rocking the boats in an attempt to throw the cultivators off.
Lan Wangji backhandedly draws Bichen, and severs a number of hands gripping the left side immediately. Just as he turns to the ones on the right, Suibian swoops in and cuts the appendages cleanly off.
The dismembered white hands fall limply back into the lake, and the long dark shadow curling around under the boats swallows them back up.
The disciples hurriedly pull nets over the shadow but they come up empty.
Wei Wuxian raises a brow, lifting a hand to his chin as he eyes the shadow with a pensive look. “It’s strange. This shadow doesn't look anything like a human. It doesn't even have a fixed shape… Lan Zhan, beside your boat!”
Instantly, Bichen unsheathes itself and stabs into the water, piercing smoothly through the surface with a small ripple. The lake falls completely silent for a split second, dark angry waves seemingly receding, and Lan Wangji's lips move with a simple recitation of the sword incantation.
Bichen returns with a sharp resonance, taking with it a crescent of water—and nothing else.
Even Bichen did not manage to pierce anything.
A hushed silence falls over the cultivators at the realisation, and the disciples glance at each other uneasily.
It's at that exact moment of doubt that the receding lake waters start to swell again, as if a storm had started brewing underwater, and it's now drawing them all in, pulling them towards the middle of the lake. Ghostly hands vigorously slap the sides of the boats, shoving themselves relentlessly against them, violently shaking the boats from side to side.
"Su She, beside your boat!"
Almost immediately upon hearing that, the disciple named Su She draws his sword, and sends it thrusting towards the hint of a dark shadow in the water.
However, after his sword went underwater, it never resurfaced again. No matter how many times Su She repeats the sword incantation, nothing responds to the spell. It's as if his sword had been devoured by the lake, and disappeared without a trace.
“Su She, we still haven’t determined what the thing inside the water is. Why did you act on your own and make your sword go underwater?”
“I saw that Hanguang-jun also…”
"How can you compare yourself to Hanguang-jun? You can't even match Lan er-gongzi in cultivation!"
“I…”
Jiang Xichen looks away from that scene and turns his attention back to the lake instead. The rippling surface of Biling Lake has fallen suspiciously quiet and still yet again.
Jiang Xichen’s gut feeling tingles, telling him that something is terribly off about this whole situation. It doesn't feel like it's just a case of water ghouls. Yunmeng has its fair share of them and Jiang Xichen had never met something like this before.
Water ghouls shouldn't have enough energy to control the lake water to this extent. It is definitely something different, something that is vicious, large and powerful enough to swallow a whole sword, a spiritual weapon.
"Hahaha!" Wei Wuxian's booming laughter sounds from the stern and Jiang Xichen glances over just in time to see his brother cackling obnoxiously as Bichen lifts a pile of wet, black mess from the water.
“Lan Zhan, you’re so impressive! This is my first time I've seen someone remove a water ghoul’s clothing when they’re catching them!”
Jiang Xichen peers back at the water, noting how the depths appear to be darkening despite the quiet surface.
And, suddenly, it clicks.
They had assumed that they were simply fighting water ghouls—creatures with low intelligence, but looking at the situation now, it is obvious that their enemy is no longer just water ghouls. If they had gotten together and became something far more dangerous, then what would be their first course of action?
What would they want to achieve?
"Go back immediately," Jiang Xichen instructs, hand gripping the hilt of Shuoyue.
"Why?" Lan Wanyin asks curiously, tilting his head to the side.
Beside him, Lan Wangji's posture stiffens at Jiang Xichen's words as the realisation dawns on him too. “The underwater beings led the boats to the centre of Biling Lake on purpose.”
Just as Lan Wangji finishes his words, the water on either side of each boat surges and starts overflowing into them at an alarming pace. The cultivators stand rooted in ankle-deep water as the boats continue sinking directly down into the lake, as if drawn by some unseen gravitational force.
The colour of Biling Lake’s water isn’t dark green any more, but almost black, and it collapses in on itself, forming a large whirlpool in the centre.
"Get away from the water!" Jiang Xichen yells, stepping onto Shuoyue, and allows his sword to bring him higher and higher, out of the reach of the waters below.
The other cultivators catch on quickly, and they all start unsheathing their swords one after another, rising and hovering above the whirlpool.
When everyone is a safe distance away, Jiang Xichen glances downward again to check the situation of the lake, only to see Su She knee-deep inside the water. Although his face is full of panic, he doesn't call for help. He simply stands there, glancing around nervously, frozen in shock.
Jiang Xichen exhales sharply, contemplating if there is still a chance he would be able to swoop in and pull Su She out in time. He is on his sword now, practically defenceless. If the waters get ahold of him, both he and Su She will—
"Grab on!"
From his peripheral vision, Jiang Xichen notices a flash of white and black rushing to help, but Lan Wanyin is faster than Wei Wuxian, and he bends down and stretches his arm out without hesitation, grasping Su She’s arm firmly.
Sandu dips with the added weight, and Lan Wanyin's eyes narrow with the effort to keep them both afloat.
Unlike Shuoyue, Sandu is a sword made for speed not strength, and it struggles under the weight of two men, slowly descending back down towards the water instead of ascending.
"Don't let go," Lan Wanyin grits out between clenched teeth, and stretches his other arm out too, gripping Su She's arm steadfastly with both of his own.
However, a strong force suddenly comes from under Su She, almost pulling Lan Wanyin off of his sword. Despite this, Lan Wanyin clings on and resolutely yanks back, battling the entity with sheer arm strength and willpower.
As if fearing it would lose its prey to Lan Wanyin, dark tendrils shoot out from the depths of the lake and speed towards the latter. Lan Wanyin dodges them reflexively, inclining his head to the side in the nick of time. The tendrils graze his cheek and continue their path upwards, smashing into the head of Lan Wanyin's hairpin, breaking it, before retreating back into the lake.
"Lan-xiong!" Wei Wuxian shouts as he and Lan Wangji rushes towards the scene, but Jiang Xichen is already there, winding a hand tightly around Lan Wanyin's waist.
Jiang Xichen pours a vast expanse of spiritual energy into Shuoyue, the blade nearly turning completely white. The air around Shuoyue buzzes, sparking, and it repels all the tendrils coiled around Su She's legs, making them fall away with a flash of light, and Jiang Xichen ascends in one swift motion, bringing Lan Wanyin and Su She up with him.
Jiang Xichen hauls the trembling Su She onto Shuoyue before turning to Lan Wanyin. "Wanyin, are you—"
"I'm fine," Lan Wanyin interrupts with an odd hitch to his voice and a light pink dusting the tips of his ears, as he steps back onto Sandu.
"But…" Jiang Xichen trails off, swallowing thickly as he brushes his thumb across Lan Wanyin's cheek, under the gash that has already begun clotting with the power of his golden core.
"I am fine," Lan Wanyin repeats, turning away with rapidly reddening ears, the loose strands of his hair cascading down his back.
Jiang Xichen reaches out in an attempt to grab Lan Wanyin, only to be stopped by a firm grip around his wrist that tightens with each passing millisecond.
"Jiang Xichen." Lan Wangji's tone is cold, cutting and brusque.
The Jiang Sect heir slowly raises his gaze from the hand around his wrist to its owner. The corners of Jiang Xichen's lips lift in a small smile, starting out polite but quickly morphs into a dangerous and mocking one.
"Lan Wangji."
They remain like that for a long moment, the glint of a challenge clouding their eyes, until Lan Wanyin clears his throat.
Lan Wangji is the first to pull away. "It is a waterborne abyss."
Jiang Xichen casts a look down at Biling Lake. The pretty green hue of the lake is as misleading as always, and the surface is perfectly still and calm, as if it hadn't just swallowed ten boats.
"Has there been any place which suffered from a waterborne abyss recently?" Jiang Xichen asks, despite having a vague idea on who it might be.
And as expected, Lan Wangji simply points up at the sun—the Qishan Wen Sect.
Notes:
1. Two Jades of Lan: In the original novel, it’s the “Twin Jades of Lan”, but for this AU, I would use “Two Jades of Lan” instead. Back
2. Gunwale: the upper edge or planking of the side of a boat or ship. Back
***
We had Xicheng moments in the end notes previously, so this time I shall deliver some Two Jades moments! Enjoy~
“If you know that it hurts, then do not act so impulsively the next time,” Lan Wangji says with a sigh as he presses a fresh batch of medicinal herbs to the healing gash on Lan Wanyin’s cheek.
The latter frowns, grimacing at the stinging pain but keeps moderately still, clenching his hands into fists on his knees. “What else was I supposed to do? Am I supposed to watch a fellow disciple of Gusu Lan die?”
“Do not argue with your family, for it does not matter who wins,” Lan Wangji recites blandly in a chastising tone. “Have you forgotten the rules again?”
“Do not make assumptions about others. Do not insult people. Harmony is the value. Honour good people.” Lan Wanyin raises his gaze up to his elder brother. “Perhaps xiongzhang is the one that has forgotten the rules?”
Lan Wangji narrows his eyes. “Do you mean to say that Jiang Xichen is a good person?”
“He saved my life.”
“He is frivolous.”
Lan Wanyin shoots his elder brother a pointed look. “And you mean to say that Wei-gongzi isn’t? He has broken many more rules in a day than Jiang Xichen has, and will ever have. Yet, xiongzhang continues to cover for him.”
“I do not.”
“Do not tell lies.”
“Do not disagree with your seniors without reason.”
“Well, then do not be fucking hypocritical and unjust!”
“Do not succumb to rage,” Lan Wangji says flatly, pulling the used medicinal herbs away as he stands. “Copy the rules three times to learn how to conduct yourself with dignity.”
Lan Wanyin scoffs, turning his nose up in the air defiantly.
Chapter 6: Reminiscence IV
Notes:
This is the last chapter of the Cloud Recesses flashback (˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )
We'll be back to the normal timeline in the next chapter, which will be a continuation from Chapter 2!Enjoy~~
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
<FLASHBACK>
When word that Lan Qiren’s stay in Qinghe for the Discussion Conference would be extended for several days reaches the Cloud Recesses, the other guest disciples have finally gotten too bored to keep their heads down anymore. They are emboldened by Lan Qiren’s absence, and self-study lessons have completely become a time to fool around in the day, while they repeatedly indulge in wrestling, drinking and gambling at night.
And tonight, all the disciples are gathered in Jiang Xichen and Wei Wuxian’s shared room, huddled around in Wei Wuxian’s half of the space as they share several picture books amongst themselves.
Jiang Xichen sits alone in his corner of the room, with various crafting and sculpting tools that he bought from Caiyi Town laid out on the floor around him. The young man furrows his brows in concentration, squinting as he works on perfecting the details on the lotus hairpin he had been busy crafting over the past week.
“Ge…”
Jiang Xichen ignores Wei Wuxian’s whines, and busies himself by raising the lavender jade hairpin to a flickering candle flame, using it as a backlight as he contemplates the shape of the lotus on it. Then, he picks up one of the tools and carefully carves off a corner before adding a thin line down the centre to make the petal appear raised and more life-like.1
“Ge!” Wei Wuxian calls again, louder this time. “Could you go grab us four jars of Emperor’s Smile?"
Jiang Xichen turns to his brother with a raised brow. "Why should I?"
Wei Wuxian flops down on his back, kicking his legs in the air like a child throwing a tantrum. “Because it’s been so long since I last tasted Emperor’s Smile! I’m so thirsty I could die!”
“And?”
“Ge, do I need to remind you that this is because you didn’t leave me any last time?”
Jiang Xichen gives him a small nonchalant shrug and Wei Wuxian groans, rolling across the room to hug one of Jiang Xichen’s legs. “Please? Please, Ge, you know you want it too. You can smell it now, right? That dry, spicy fragrance! And now, if you close your eyes, you can almost taste it on your tongue too, right? That rich, crisp taste that you can never find anywhere else in the world but here!”
Jiang Xichen swallows dryly, his resolve crumbling a tad at the edges.
"Well, if you go, I won't tell Madam Yu that it was you that broke her favourite—"
Jiang Xichen jabs Wei Wuxian in the ribs. “Oh? So you’re threatening me now. Is this what I taught you to do when asking for favours?"
Wei Wuxian gives a loud exaggerated groan of pain, then shoots Jiang Xichen his very best puppy-eyed look. “Ge, please? Just four jars! In exchange, I promise I’ll do anything you want me to next time, a favour for a favour!”
Jiang Xichen casts him a judgmental sidelong glance, but barely lasts a second before he gives in, placing the hairpin back in its cushioned case and grabbing his coin pouch.
“All of you better make sure you clean up the peanut shells when you’re done tonight. If I find even a single trace tomorrow morning, I'll be the first to lodge a complaint to Lan Qiren when he comes back,” Jiang Xichen tuts, and ruffles Wei Wuxian’s hair as he passes him by on the way to the doors.
Jiang Xichen knows that he shouldn’t be encouraging Wei Wuxian’s unruly behaviour, but Lan Qiren is still in Qinghe. Besides, knowing Wei Wuxian, he would most definitely try to sneak out on his own if Jiang Xichen refused, and likely end up getting himself into trouble. Knowing how Lan Qiren is already viewing Wei Wuxian as a troublemaker, he really can't risk letting Wei Wuxian get another strike.
On the other hand, Jiang Xichen had already memorised the layout and clearly discerned most of the blind spots in Gusu Lan’s patrols. And, he is undoubtedly the better one at sneaking around anyway.
—Or not.
Jiang Xichen finds himself standing on the same wall as their first meeting, opposite Lan Wanyin, who had taken it upon himself to personally survey the blind spots in Gusu Lan's patrols.
A soft breeze blows gently over the top of the wall, tousling through hair, and sending the tails of Lan Wanyin's forehead ribbon flitting to the side.
“Alcohol is prohibited in Cloud Recesses.”
“Well, I’m not in Cloud Recesses yet,” Jiang Xichen grins, shrugging. “Can’t you close one eye?”
“Jiang Xichen,” Lan Wanyin mutters, his voice quiet and controlled as he steps out from the shadows, white robes swishing with every step he takes towards the other man.
The crescent moon behind them is waning, hanging low and dim in the night sky. It is nothing at all like the full moon that graced their first meeting, but the difference makes it all the more captivating, and Jiang Xichen finds himself unable to look away from how the moonlight illuminates Lan Wanyin's facial features, glinting off his tall nose bridge, strong cheekbones, and thick lashes.
Jiang Xichen blinks, his chest growing oddly warm. His heart aches with each beat it makes, a strange mix of yearning and longing that simply springs to life at the mere sight of Lan Wanyin.
He misses Lan Wanyin, Jiang Xichen finally realises after another heartbeat—misses the way Lan Wanyin’s eyes sparkle when he talks about the new book he’s reading, misses the way the other man is always quick to embarrassment and anger, misses the way he pouts and flushes with the effort to keep his emotions under check—misses the way Lan Wanyin sometimes lets a smile slip when he thinks Jiang Xichen isn’t looking.
And the realisation sends a flutter of butterflies spiralling down to his stomach.
Jiang Xichen had never felt like this towards a friend before. He had never felt the desire to be closer, the desire to make someone the happiest they can ever be. He had never felt so afraid of a friendship breaking, or the urge to hold onto someone tightly and never let go.
“Wanyin,” Jiang Xichen says, his voice hoarse and strained. He doesn’t know what he wants to say next, doesn’t know what he should say next, but he knows he wants to be closer, so he takes a step forward, then another, and another.
Lan Wanyin blinks, confusion shrouding those clear steel blue eyes as he takes an uneasy step backwards. “What are you—”
The four ceramic wine jugs slip from Jiang Xichen’s twitching fingers and they fall, the liquid in them sloshing mellifluously before they shatter against the ground with a loud and resounding smash.
The heady smell of Emperor’s Smile creeps skywards, wafting up the wall, and Lan Wanyin visibly flinches, taking another step backwards—a misstep, because his foot lands on thin air, and Lan Wanyin’s body tilts precariously backwards, out over the wall.
Jiang Xichen’s body moves before his mind and he lunges forward instantly, closing the distance between them in two long strides, and grabs onto Lan Wanyin’s wrist. He gives it a harsh tug out of desperation and a rush of adrenaline, yanking the latter towards himself. Lan Wanyin stumbles forward at that, knocking into the hard planes of Jiang Xichen’s body, and it sends both of them tumbling over on the other side of the wall, into Cloud Recesses instead.
Jiang Xichen lands on his back, taking the brunt of the fall, while Lan Wanyin collapses in a heap on top of him.
The additional weight drives the small pebble jutting into the junction between his shoulder blades deeper, making it press uncomfortably against his thoracic and Jiang Xichen gives a low wince of pain.
Lan Wanyin cracks open an eye at the sound, and immediately finds himself staring right down at Jiang Xichen. There is nearly no conceivable distance between their faces and their breaths mingle with every inhale and exhale.
The aromatic scent of lotus lingers—light, fragrant and nostalgic—in the confined space between them.
Jiang Xichen watches intently as a tinge of red blooms from the tips of Lan Wanyin’s ears, spreading across his cheeks and right down his neck. It is a stark contrast to the white ribbon across Lan Wanyin’s forehead.
“My apologies. I will get up now,” Lan Wanyin mutters after a long, pregnant pause, before bracing his arms on either side of Jiang Xichen’s head, and struggles to pull himself back onto his feet.
The movement rocks Jiang Xichen’s position, making the pebble dig harder into his blossoming bruise, and Jiang Xichen reflexively wraps a hand around Lan Wanyin’s waist, pulling him back down and holding him firmly in place.
“Don’t move.”
Lan Wanyin pauses, frozen in place.
“Wanyin, listen, I…”
A twig snaps a little distance away from them, and they snap their heads in that direction to see Lan Wangji stepping out from behind a tree. His hands are clenched into fists, shaking slightly in anger. His eyes are narrowed, and his voice is cold and cutting.
"What are the both of you doing there?"
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
"G-Ge, are you alright?" Wei Wuxian questions, staring at the patches of blue and purple on Jiang Xichen's swollen hands.
However, the ones on his palms are definitely not the worst he received from the discipline ruler. Lan Wangji had been the one to administer the punishment, and he most definitely did not go easy on him.
Jiang Xichen took a hundred more lashings than Lan Wanyin did, and although he doesn’t necessarily mind the ones on his hands and the back of his thighs, those against his back stung—especially when they came into contact with the injury he had from the pebble earlier.
Jiang Xichen grimaces at the building ache between his shoulder blades when he straightens his back. "Don't worry, don’t worry, it's nothing much. I'll heal in a couple of hours."
"In a couple of days you mean." Nie Huaisang visibly shudders from the sight of the bruises, hiding his grimace behind his fan. "Your golden core won't help you much with recovering from these strikes. It's made to last longer in order to be a punishment, you know…"
"What?!" Wei Wuxian gasps, aghast. "Lan Zhan is too vicious! All Ge did was sneak some alcohol into Cloud Recesses! It's definitely not an offence deserving of two hundred strikes! I'll find Lan Zhan and demand an answer from—"
Jiang Xichen grabs onto the back of Wei Wuxian's collar, holding him back even when he flails his limbs angrily in an attempt to get away. There is no way Jiang Xichen will ever admit aloud that there's another reason why Lan Wangji was so adamant on punishing him this harshly.
“Yeah, yeah, calm down. You don’t have to do that. The harm is already done anyway, what would confronting Lan Wangji at this point do?"
"Huh? So you're just going to take this lying down?”
“Not quite,” Jiang Xichen chuckles, the hint of a sly smirk curving his lips up. “I’ll head to the infirmary to get herbs.”
“Jiang-xiong, not to burst your bubble, but it’s against the rules for the infirmary here to prescribe medication to help with recovering from punishments. You’d have better luck trying to find the Cold Springs, and leave getting the herbs to me and Wei-xiong. I’m sure we can fake a condition or two between us and—”
Wei Wuxian blinks. “Wait, before that, what’s this... Cold Springs?”
Nie Huaisang turns to him. “It's a place for healing and cultivation in the Cloud Recesses, but only male disciples from Gusu Lan are allowed in. Us guest disciples don’t even usually know where it’s located.”
“I know where it is,” Jiang Xichen interjects, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Y-You what?!”
“Wanyin brought me to it once when he showed me around Cloud Recesses.”
Nie Huaisang gapes at him for a moment before swiftly hiding his face behind his fan and slinging a friendly arm around Wei Wuxian’s shoulder. “Well, well, to think that the both of you are on such good terms already. Go on then, Jiang-xiong! Leave the herbs to us.”
Jiang Xichen eyes them suspiciously, but alas, gives in and leaves to take the remote trodden path out to the Cold Springs. However, it is not until he's in full view of the Cold Springs through the foliage that he notices there's already someone else in it.
He slows to a stop, pausing at the sight of the other man's back, his skin appearing so soft and pale under the moonlight—and that simply draws Jiang Xichen’s attention to the similar patches of blue and purple speckled across the other man’s back. Jiang Xichen hesitates then, wondering if he should head back when the other man turns, and the tips of the ebony strands swept over one shoulder sways in the gentle breeze, skimming the surface of the water.
Jiang Xichen blinks at the familiar face, at the sight of Lan Wanyin in the Cold Springs—his face expressionless, eyes closed, and the way the droplets of water skims across bare skin with every movement.
Jiang Xichen exhales breathily.
Lan Wanyin's eyes spring open. “What are you doing here?!”
After recognising Lan Wanyin, all of Jiang Xichen's earlier reservations fall away. A sly smile creeps its way onto his face and he cheekily takes off his sash belt. Well, it’s not like Wanyin could run away while half-undressed, right? This would be the perfect opportunity for him to finish saying whatever he wanted to earlier, before Lan Wangji interrupted them!
"Hm~? Isn’t it obvious what I’m here for?" Jiang Xichen gestures at the patches of blacks and blues on his body.
Lan Wanyin's face turns completely red, the colour tinging the tips of his ears. “I… I came here for cultivation purposes, not for… Do not come in here!”
Without heeding Lan Wanyin’s words, Jiang Xichen dips a leg into the spring water and immediately makes a face. “It really is cold…”
Jiang Xichen doesn’t know what he had been expecting when this place is literally named the Cold Springs, but he definitely did not expect it to be freezing cold. He will admit that he had been spoiled by the lakes in Yunmeng, which remain merely cool even on the coldest days, but he simply cannot fathom why any sane person would willingly bathe in this monstrosity!
“Do not leap around!”
“B-B-But it’s so c-cold…” Jiang Xichen speaks through chattering teeth and full-body shivers as he waddles through the waist-deep water to get over to where Lan Wanyin is. He runs his hands vigorously up and down his arms in an attempt to keep warm, and the action sends several droplets of water splashing onto Lan Wanyin's ink-black hair.
“Jiang Xichen!" Lan Wanyin snaps, patience thinning rapidly the closer Jiang Xichen moves to him. "Stop moving!”
“Oh,” Jiang Xichen perks up. Subconsciously, he leans closer to Lan Wanyin, bending to press their shoulders together. “You finally snapped at me. You were avoiding me for so long, I thought we weren’t friends anymore.”
Lan Wanyin's posture stiffens, but he makes no move to withdraw from the contact.
Emboldened by this, Jiang Xichen presses on.
"Say, Wanyin, we're just friends now, right? Can we be best friends?"
Lan Wanyin jerks away at those words, narrowing his eyes. "What do you mean by that?”
Jiang Xichen chuckles. "I’ve been thinking. I call you ‘Wanyin’, but you’ve just been calling me ‘Jiang Xichen’ all this while. Isn’t that too distant? Why don’t you try calling me ‘Xichen’ instead?”
“That’s too disrespectful. Even if you are just two years older, I am technically still your junior.”
“Hmm…” Jiang Xichen trails off, scratching his chin while deep in thought. He casts a sidelong glance at Lan Wanyin’s serious expression then, and a brilliant idea slithers into his mind. “How about ‘Xichen-ge’ then?”
Lan Wanyin inhales sharply, scooping up a wave of water and sends it splashing right into Jiang Xichen’s face. Jiang Xichen chokes, coughing on the water.
“How are you this shameless!”
“It was just a joke, Wanyin!”
“A distasteful joke!”
“Well, I understand if you don’t want to call me ‘Xichen-ge’, but surely, you can’t possibly reject me when I invite you to visit me at Lotus Pier, right?”
Lan Wanyin glances at him. Then, after a short pause, he finally replies. "Why?"
"Why, you say? Well, Yunmeng is fun, really fun. Yunmeng’s food is good, better than everything I cooked for you. I can take you to pick lotus seed pods and water chestnuts. Besides, your archery is getting better too, maybe we can even go hunt pheasants. Ah, did you know that Wei Wuxian is the best at hunting pheasants in Yunmeng? He can easily find all the hiding spots—"
"No."
Lan Wanyin glances to the side, glaring at absolutely nothing in particular as he silently fumes with a slight pout.
Jiang Xichen blinks. "Don’t always answer everything with negative words, Wanyin. You sound too uncaring; girls won’t like it."
Lan Wanyin scoffs. "I do not need them to like me."
"Well, there is one woman you need in the whole world to like you though," Jiang Xichen chuckles, bumping his shoulder against Lan Wanyin's again. "My sister, the best sister and chef in the world, Jiang Yanli. The lotus root and pork rib soup she makes is the best. It’s much better than mine!"
Lan Wanyin deadpans. “More spicy?”
Jiang Xichen scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “Well… if the food isn’t to your liking, I can take you swimming and boating instead. I’ll show you all the best spots in Yunmeng and tell you all the interesting stories I’ve come across.”
Lan Wanyin falls silent, contemplative.
Jiang Xichen grins, knowing that he has likely won this battle. "There’s a lot of fun things to do in Yunmeng. You’d definitely be missing out if you don’t come visit at least once.”
It’s the wrong thing to say, because Lan Wanyin’s face darkens the next moment. "I won’t. There's nothing special in Yunmeng that I can't find in Gusu."
"Really~?" Jiang Xichen smirks, eyes narrowing into crescents as he bends forward and peers up at Lan Wanyin. "But there's definitely something there you can't find here in Gusu—there's me."
Annoyed and completely flustered, Lan Wanyin sputters as he flings another wave of water in Jiang Xichen's direction. "Get… Get lost!"
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
Rumours that Lan Wanyin entered seclusion to improve his own cultivation start spreading throughout Cloud Recesses the next day.
Jiang Xichen does not want to believe them—there is always the nagging thought at the back of his mind telling him that he took his jokes a little too far that day at the Cold Springs and scared Lan Wanyin off, but between Lan Qiren’s impromptu return to Cloud Recesses and Lan Wangji refusal to answer any of his queries on where Lan Wanyin is, Jiang Xichen realises that all he could do is only to fall back on and believe the baseless rumours.
He would have very much preferred if Wanyin had told him about this at the Cold Springs that day, or at least hinted at it, but perhaps Wanyin did and he is the one that missed out on the clues?
Jiang Xichen pushes these thoughts away, just like how he pushes the finished lotus hairpin into the sash of his waist belt, because he has other things to worry about at the moment—like how Wei Wuxian is one second away from punching the living daylights out of Jin Zixuan.
"What do you mean by 'forget it'?!" Wei Wuxian thunders, clenching the hands by his sides into fists.
Jin Zixuan glances at Wei Wuxian, then scoffs arrogantly as he folds his arms and tilts his nose up into the air. “Is the phrase ‘forget it’ too difficult to understand?”
“The phrase isn’t hard to understand. Instead, it’s hard to understand how on Earth you are unsatisfied with my shijie.”
“Why don’t you ask me how on earth can I be satisfied with her instead?”
"You—"
Jiang Xichen grabs hold of Wei Wuxian's arm before his fist connects with Jin Zixuan's face and hurriedly pulls Wei Wuxian behind him. "Jin-gongzi, please mind your words."
Jin Zixuan sneers. "I'm doing your sister a favour. I wouldn't want your family to be caught in an unhappy forced marriage for two consecutive generations."
All goodwill disappears from Jiang Xichen's tender eyes as his expression rapidly darkens and his usual polite smile freezes in place on his face. When Jiang Xichen speaks next, his voice is sharp and cold, his words cutting viciously and accurately into all of Jin Zixuan’s weak spots.
"And neither would we want our sister to marry into a family where all the men cheat."
Jin Zixuan lunges at him the moment the words leave Jiang Xichen’s lips and punches him across the face. The blow sends the latter stumbling several steps backward into Wei Wuxian, and Jiang Xichen spits out a spittle of blood to the side.
Still, he refrains from throwing a punch back. He doesn’t want to dirty his hands, so Jiang Xichen simply stands his ground, challenging Jin Zixuan with a glare instead.
Jin Zixuan understands the snub in Jiang Xichen's actions, understands it so well that he charges at Jiang Xichen again, even without a second taunt.
In response, Jiang Xichen simply tightens his hold on Wei Wuxian's arm, preventing his younger brother from lashing out on his behalf, and takes the second punch soundlessly.
And as expected, the commotion alerts the teachers and Lan Qiren comes over at the right moment to witness Jin Zixuan punching Jiang Xichen in the face.
The fight between the two heirs startles both the Jin and Jiang sects. On the same day, both Jiang Fengmian and Jin Guangshan arrived from Yunmeng and Lanling respectively, flustered and troubled. After a brief meeting with his son, Jiang Fengmian was promptly ushered into a room to meet with Lan Qiren, leaving Jiang Xichen alone to kneel on the stone path that Lan Qiren assigned him to.
Wei Wuxian approaches him with an apology. "Sorry, Ge, I shouldn't have lost control..."
Jiang Xichen chuckles, waving Wei Wuxian's apologies away. "Don't worry about that. The peacock deserved it."
"Of course he does! No one gets to insult Shijie like that and live!"
Jiang Xichen gives Wei Wuxian a gentle flick on his head, and they dissolve into peals of stifled laughter, with Jiang Xichen tousling Wei Wuxian's hair with rough pats.
"Hey," Jiang Xichen manages to say between chuckles. "So do you still remember that you owe me a favour?"
Wei Wuxian straightens his posture and eyes Jiang Xichen suspiciously. "What do you want me to do? If it's anything involving dogs, it's a flat no."
"I want you to help me pass a hairpin and a message to Wanyin."
Wei Wuxian raises a brow. "To Lan-xiong? You two are suspiciously close." He leans in to whisper into Jiang Xichen's ear. "Are you in love with him or something?"
Jiang Xichen flicks him on the forehead again.
"Tell him 'I'll be waiting'."
"Ew." Wei Wuxian gives a mock shudder. "I'm not helping you pass your love messages. Tell him that yourself."
Jiang Xichen rolls his eyes. "I'd love to. But I'm pretty sure I'll be sent back to Yunmeng after this, you know?"
Lan Wangji would definitely let Lan Qiren know about the rules he broke with the second alcohol incident, and he wouldn't put it past Lan Wangji to clarify that he was the one responsible for the first one too. That, together with the fact that helped Wei Wuxian copy the rules previously, and the fight with Jin Zixuan this time—all in all, Jiang Xichen understands that there is no plausible way for him to get out of this without being sent back to Lotus Pier.
The older generation would undoubtedly see this entire argument as a conflict between two heirs who do not get along, where they exchanged blows over their mutual disagreement of Jin Zixuan and Jiang Yanli's engagement. However, since this engagement is something that has been arranged many years prior and involves Madam Jin and Madam Yu, who are both not present, the easiest way for the elders to keep the harmony between the Lan, Jin and Jiang Sects is to pretend they do not know the cause of the conflict.
However, they would still have to hold someone accountable for the fight that had alerted two Sect Leaders and caused gossip to spread within the cultivation world like wildfire, and that is why he would have to be sent home.
Jiang Xichen knows this—had known it before he stepped into the fight, and had deemed it a worthwhile sacrifice.
Better him than Wei Wuxian, anytime, anyday.
"Ge…”
“It’s fine. I have no qualms for leaving this dull and boring place anyway.”
—Except the fact that he wouldn’t be able to give Wanyin the hairpin in person.
Still, Jiang Xichen forces a smile on, and presses the delicate lotus hairpin he crafted into Wei Wuxian’s hand. "So, if you get sent back before Wanyin is out of seclusion and fail to pass this keepsake to him, I'll break your legs."
Notes:
1. Disclaimer that jade carving isn't actually like this. Jade is at ~7 on the Mohs hardness scale so a range of power tools or the equivalent in ancient times have to be used. It's a lot of hard work but... but I wanted Jiang Xichen to make the hairpin with his own two hands while he is still in Cloud Recesses so please close one eye to this ;3; Back
***
“Seclusion?” Lan Wangji repeats softly before raising his head to meet Lan Wanyin’s eyes. “Why?”
Lan Wanyin twists his fingers into fabric and takes in a deep breath. “I want to get stronger, so I don't have to be the one that is protected anymore. I want to protect the people I care about, and to be able to stand next to those I respect, on equal footing.”
“Jiang Xichen?”
“...”
“Is your mind set?”
“Yes.”
Lan Wangji sets down the scroll in his hand. “Mn. I’ll let shufu know then.”
Chapter Text
<PRESENT>
It is the crowing of two roosters under his window that first rouses Jiang Xichen from his slumber, but it is the raw and acute feeling of loss—brought on by the dream of a distant past, of a future that can’t be, that keeps him awake.
It is the feeling of happiness and satisfaction mixed with longing and yearning, and compounded with a sense of guilt, that slowly eats away at him, making his chest tight and his heart ache, as the events from yesterday sink back into his mind.
The demonic arm, the resentment energy, the Sacrificial Ritual, Song Hengyi, and—
—and Lan Wanyin.
Jiang Xichen’s eyes fly open, and he immediately sits up in bed, gasping for air, as the stark reality of the events revolving around his current predicament finally catches up to him again.
It is not a dream. He is actually alive.
Jiang Xichen swallows thickly before peeling the tattered black sleeve covering his left forearm back, and eyes the bandages that are now dotted in specks of red where fresh blood has seeped into them. Jiang Xichen tears them off in a frenzy to reveal two jagged incisions, both wounds a little wider than how he remembered them to be.
There is a trace amount of resentment energy seeping out from the gashes and Jiang Xichen reaches towards it hesitantly, curious. However, the moment his right hand comes into contact with the dark energy, it condenses into wisps of black smoke, curling and twining around his fingers before the tendrils twist their way up his wrist and arm.
"Kill Xue Yang and Jin Guangyao!"
A voice snarls vehemently at Jiang Xichen, imprinting those words deep into his mind. It is reminiscent of the vengeful voices full of hatred that would constantly echo in his head previously when he wielded resentment energy as a weapon, and Jiang Xichen recoils from the mere memory as it consumes him, making bile rise to the back of his throat.
Jiang Xichen clambers off the bed at that, nearly tripping over the blanket tangled around his feet on his way to the bronze mirror across the room. He doesn’t know what he was expecting to see, but the sight of Song Hengyi’s reflection takes him completely by surprise.
It is a different face, a different person. There is an uncanny resemblance between their eyes, from their shape to their molten amber shade, but the similarities end there. Song Hengyi’s nose is more upturned, his lips thinner—and it is not anything like the face of a person revengeful enough to perform the Sacrificial Ritual.
“Why do you want to kill them?” Jiang Xichen asks, his voice dropping low to a whisper as he stares at Song Hengyi’s reflection in the mirror. "Why do you want me to kill them?"
It is not as if he is expecting a response, of course, but it is only after saying those words that Jiang Xichen notices the beginnings of a scar peeking through the torn sections of his robes, a scar that shouldn’t be there, had Song Hengyi’s core been working fine.
Jiang Xichen takes a sharp inhale of breath, and tugs the tattered lapels on the black robes apart, parting them to reveal Song Hengyi’s gaunt body, riddled with a mess of white and pink scars all over his chest and upper arms.
It is obvious from first glance which scars are the oldest, with them being small and light, nearly invisible with the golden core aiding their recovery. Those that come later are likely to be after Song Hengyi's core has gotten damaged, and their recovery is slow and stunted, making them more visible the newer they are.
In fact, the fresh wounds on his torso are still red and raw, only beginning to show signs of closing up even after an entire night's rest.
Jiang Xichen tilts his head, deep in thought as he runs a finger past the spider web of scars, each of them thin and slightly raised, akin to the wounds left behind by a sharp knife. Repeated knife wounds, Jiang Xichen corrects himself, spotting the way the scars are layered one over another, quite possibly spanning across a long period of time when Song Hengyi’s core slowly deteriorates due to overwhelming amounts of resentment energy.
That, coupled with the abandoned state of Baixue Temple that he came across last night, and the line of graves.
"Song family, from Baixue Temple… Song Hengyi, what happened to you…?"
Two polite raps sound against the inn's bedroom door, accompanied by the pleasant lilt of a familiar voice, mellow and smooth, and it successfully drags Jiang Xichen out of his reverie before he can ponder further about Song Hengyi's situation.
"Song-gongzi."
"Come in," Jiang Xichen replies after a short pause. He tries to straighten his attire to look more presentable, but the fabric of his tattered black robes tears instead, hanging loose and open on his frame, with several crusting streaks of dried blood on the fabric and hints of dirt clinging to the ends of his sleeve.
In contrast, Lan Wanyin standing in the doorway looks akin to an unsullied lotus, without a single hair out of place or a crease on his pristine robes. He is dressed completely in snowy white from head to toe, with the only splash of colours being the lotus hairpin crafted out of lavender jade, the faded blue embroidery of the Gusu Lan motifs on his forehead ribbon and outer robes, and the stark purple of Zidian on his left forefinger.
It is a far cry from how Lan Wanyin used to dress.
As far back as Jiang Xichen can recall, Lan Wanyin had always worn inner robes with varying shades of blue—an unspoken symbolism that he will always put his Sect closer to heart—and the sight of pale blues that Jiang Xichen had long since associated with the Gusu Lan Sect had always been as much of a source of comfort to him as Lan Wanyin himself.
However, the Lan Wanyin before him right now, is strangely foreign.
He is similar, yet undoubtedly more mature, more reserved, and every motion Lan Wanyin makes is befitting of a Lan, picturesque and elegant. But there is some sort of subdued and repressed emotion in his actions that Jiang Xichen notices, but can’t put his finger to—like the underlying cold cutting edge of anger that seeps out alongside each and every one of Lan Wanyin’s gestures.
“Song-gongzi,” Lan Wanyin repeats, averting his gaze from Jiang Xichen’s dishevelled appearance to the table as he sets a tray down on it. “Unfortunately, there’s no bath area in this humble inn, please make do with this to wash yourself.”
Jiang Xichen sucks in a shallow breath, schooling his features into one of neutrality as he glances from the basin of warm water and stack of towels, to the hair ribbon resting on layers of folded monochromatic fabrics—white inner robes, black flowy outer ones, and a blue waistband—in a style that he is not accustomed to because it is closer to Gusu Lan's than Yunmeng Jiang's trademark jianxiu robes.
He can almost feel the softness of the material just from seeing how it folds in on itself at this distance. It's nothing at all like the cheap coarse fabric he was used to wearing as the Yiling Patriarch.
Lan Wanyin takes out a fresh roll of bandages from his sleeve and turns to Jiang Xichen, extending a hand to the latter and gesturing for him to sit. However, before he could speak, Jiang Xichen takes a step back and twists his body alongside the motion, skillfully hiding his left hand behind himself, away from Lan Wanyin.
He can’t risk having Lan Wanyin find out that his ritual wounds have gotten worse. There is no concrete reason he can give for it, not when Lan Wanyin suspects that they were from the demonic arm, which has been appeased with Rest.
“Lan er-gongzi, you’ve already left the basin and clothes here, but you are not leaving yet? Ah, don’t tell me you intend to stay and watch me change?”
The expression on Lan Wanyin’s face is unreadable, but Jiang Xichen can sense the mild annoyance bubbling under his cool façade. He had spent a good portion of the study exchange at Cloud Recesses making Lan Wanyin angry after all.
Just one more push and Lan Wanyin would angrily storm out of the room.
Jiang Xichen raises his right hand to his frayed lapels. “Aiya, don’t stare at me like that, Lan er-gongzi. It’s just a pair of collarbones. Or did the sight of this handsome cultivator's bare skin make the esteemed Lan er-gongzi all hot and bothered~?”
“Ridiculous.” Lan Wanyin’s brow twitches momentarily before turning with a swish of his robes and stalks to the door.
Jiang Xichen’s shoulders shake with the effort needed to hold back peals of laughter. Even if Lan Wanyin's calm and mature demeanour makes him appear like a completely different person at times, some things would still never change.
"Wait," Jiang Xichen huffs, trying his best to curb his laughter. "At least let me know where we are headed to?"
Lan Wanyin pauses by the door frame, and glances back over his shoulder.
"Dafan Mountain."
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
Dafan Mountain is located nearly equidistant between Yunmeng, Lanling, and Gusu. Although Jiang Xichen had passed by it on foot only once during his travels for sect duties, he remembers it clearly—a mountain that resembles the shape of a kind, chubby Buddha from afar. Perhaps it is due to this religious symbol, that the small village named Buddha’s Feet at the foot of the mountain had never been plagued by any sort of ghouls or calamities.
Until now.
Jiang Xichen scratches at his chin absentmindedly. What creature must there be for the Gusu Lan Sect to specially send their esteemed Second Jade over to night-hunt? Something that is too dangerous for any junior to tag along, and yet also mild enough for Wanyin to deal with alone…
A fierce corpse?
Jiang Xichen mulls over it contemplatively as he holds the navy hair ribbon between his lips and leaves the room to find Lan Wanyin.
The ends of his hair are still slightly damp, but he doesn't have much leeway before their agreed meeting time, not after he spent an obscene amount of time trying to manipulate the remaining resentment energy in him, in an attempt to find an effective way to slow the deterioration of Song Hengyi's body.
But he has come up empty, with his conclusions similar to the ones he made last night—he will have to make time for meditation, to cleanse and stabilize his core. However, time is a luxury Jiang Xichen does not have right now, not with the curse wounds from the Sacrificial Ritual enlarging visibly after only a mere day.
The only other solution Jiang Xichen has is to find a way to release the remaining amount of resentment energy in him all in one go, without raising Lan Wanyin’s suspicions about him being a demonic cultivator. And the only way to do that is probably at Dafan Mountain.
There is a prey strong enough for Gusu Lan to mobilise their Second Jade waiting for him there after all.
Pleased with his conclusion, Jiang Xichen cards his fingers through his hair and subconsciously braids the sides out of habit, twisting and gathering them at the back of his head. He raises the ribbon to it before realising how closely it resembles his hairstyle as the Yiling Patriarch, and quickly pulls the rest of his hair up into a high ponytail alongside the braids. He sweeps his bangs to the side for good measure, parting the long strands on the right—ensuring that his current hairstyle doesn’t resemble his old one in the slightest, before grinning and bounding out to the white-robed man waiting by the entrance of the inn.
“Lan er-gongzi! Did I keep you waiting?”
Lan Wanyin turns to him, simply inclining his head a fraction as a greeting instead of speaking, waiting patiently for Jiang Xichen to close the distance between them before he starts walking.
Jiang Xichen trails behind him, hands crossed behind his head as he glances around the vibrant town, intrigued by the sights and smells.
It has been a very long time since he was in a lively place like this, and Jiang Xichen basks in the exuberant energy of the townsfolk. He didn't know how much he had missed this, missed the bustling of life, missed the laughter of children while they run down the streets, the yelling of male shop owners for people to look at their wares, and the mellifluous tinkling of hair ornaments as groups of giggling young maidens pass them by.
There is the fragrance of sizzling meat hanging in the air, alongside the aroma of sweet candied haw, and Jiang Xichen perks up, slowing his steps down.
“Song-gongzi,” Lan Wanyin calls, turning back when he notices that Jiang Xichen has completely stopped walking and is staring at a line of stores to their left. “Do you need something?”
As if on cue, Jiang Xichen’s stomach gives a loud growl.
“Loan me some money?” Jiang Xichen grins sheepishly, holding out a hand to Lan Wanyin. Lan Wanyin glances down at the outstretched hand then back up to meet Jiang Xichen’s expectant gaze. “Just several coins will do, Lan er-gongzi.”
Lan Wanyin sighs, pulling out a string of coins from his money pouch and places it on Jiang Xichen’s palm. The latter’s face lights up instantly with gratitude, and he wraps his fingers around the coins.
As good as practicing inedia is, Song Hengyi’s malnourished body still requires the nutrients after all.
Jiang Xichen takes off towards the food stalls at once, only turning back to shoot Lan Wanyin a bright grin and a large wave before he promptly disappears down an alleyway, letting his nose guide him to the meat stalls.
It is only after approximately fifteen minutes that Jiang Xichen finally returns, clutching a huge bag of food to his chest.
"For you," Jiang Xichen grins, holding out a stick of tanghulu1 to the other man.
Lan Wanyin raises a brow, but still accepts the syrup-coated treat. He spends a long moment simply staring at it before he finally gives in to his sweet tooth and takes a small bite out of the candied haw. Lan Wanyin’s reaction is so minute—just a slight widening of his eyes and the barest hint of a smile curving his lips—but Jiang Xichen notices it all the same, and it brings a nostalgic sense of warmth bubbling up in him.
Indeed, some things will never change.
“How did you manage to buy this amount of food?” Lan Wanyin interrupts Jiang Xichen with a question just as the latter reaches into his bag of food, past the baozi, jianbing, and roujiamo, to pull out a youtiao.2
“By haggling. They were trying to sell their items at two for one, and I haggled it right down to one for one!”
Lan Wanyin frowns at Jiang Xichen’s smug tone. “You didn’t think that their goods were worth the original price?”
“Well, it’s definitely not their best price. Look, these stall owners always price their items higher than needed because they are expecting hagglers. You’re just getting ripped off by paying at full price.” Jiang Xichen chuckles when Lan Wanyin’s frown deepens. “All of you Gusu people are really terrible at haggling.”
Lan Wanyin casts a sideways glance at him. “You’ve been to Gusu?”
Jiang Xichen swallows dryly. “Only... Only to Guangling. You know us rogue cultivators, we travel everywhere.”
Lan Wanyin makes a non-committal sound of agreement and the conversation lulls for a long stagnant moment, until Jiang Xichen gets tired of the silence and hurries forward, bumping shoulders with Lan Wanyin as they hurry along the dirt track leading to their destination, carefully stepping past the exposed tree roots.
“I’m curious, Lan er-gongzi. Exactly what is on Dafan Mountain?”
Lan Wanyin takes a small step to the side, inconspicuously inching away from Jiang Xichen so their shoulders are no longer knocking against each other with every other step.
“It is something that consumes souls. Seven people have fallen victim to it in the past few months.”
Jiang Xichen blinks. The only entities capable of eating and digesting souls are the more refined high-level ones. And with seven victims in such a short period of time, this could only mean that their prey is likely to be either a ferocious spirit or a beast that is using human souls to cultivate.
“And Gusu Lan sent you alone to deal with this?”
“I did not accept this job on behalf of Gusu Lan. I chanced upon the request in a neighbouring town.”
Jiang Xichen wolf-whistles. “Wow, how virtuous! Lan er-gongzi certainly lives up to his name. He can’t leave a person in need in the lurch!”
Lan Wanyin glowers at him. “Song-gongzi. Are you patronising me?”
“Not at all!” Jiang Xichen hurries to clarify. “I’m really, really full of respect for you!”
Lan Wanyin turns away, scoffing, clearly not buying Jiang Xichen’s explanation. His pace hastens, strides growing wider and Jiang Xichen hurries to keep up.
"Lan er-gongzi?" Jiang Xichen tries again after a long moment of silence. However, Lan Wanyin is still ignoring him, simply continuing ahead without so much as a glance back. Jiang Xichen simply trails behind him for the next few minutes, basking in the silence until he finally gets bored again.
“Lan Wanyin? Wanyin-xiong?”
“What do you want?”
Jiang Xichen perks up at the attention. “So, I was thinking that since we are going night-hunting together, that would mean we’re partners, right? Wouldn’t it be weird if we addressed each other like strangers?”
“And?” Lan Wanyin deadpans.
“You can call me A-Huan and I’ll call you Wanyin-ge, mmph!”
Lan Wanyin turns away with a swish of his robes, a small spark of light blue dancing across his fingertips.
“Mmph? Mmph mmph mmph!” Jiang Xichen exclaims, blinking furiously upon discovering that his upper and lower lips are seemingly glued together, and no matter how hard he tries, he is unable to pry his mouth open.
C-Could this be the infamous silencing spell of the Lan Sect?
But there's no way Wanyin would use such a wretched spell on him, right?
Jiang Xichen swears he was a lot rowdier back when they were teenagers in the Cloud Recesses, yet Lan Wanyin had never ever used this spell on him. Not even once! To think that he would be subjected to it a lifetime later, in another person’s body!
Jiang Xichen waves his bag of food at Lan Wanyin, sending silent pleas with his eyes and body language, but the latter completely ignores him and they continue their journey in relative silence until the spell wears off.
"Wanyin-ge…" Jiang Xichen droops with defeat. “You are so cruel, now all the food has gone cold…”
“That would teach you not to tease your seniors.”
“Seniors? No matter how I look at it, you’re about the same age as I am! About…” Jiang Xichen trails off, smirking. “Twenty-three?”3
Lan Wanyin rolls his eyes. “I’m twenty-eight.”
Twenty-eight, huh? So that means it has been seven years since the siege on Burial Mounds, since the Yiling Patriarch passed.
“Then I’m right, you aren’t that much older!” Jiang Xichen puffs up his chest with glee, and crosses his arms over it. “I’d say, Wanyin-ge, since we are best buds now, why don’t you just come along and help me gather those remaining body parts?”
Lan Wanyin eyes him surreptitiously. Jiang Xichen waggles his brows.
“I mean, since you’ve already helped me once by saving me from that arm, why don’t you be a nice person all the way to the end4 and help me get rid of the curse too?”
"The other disciples in the Lan Sect are fully equipped with sufficient skills to handle a curse mark of this caliber."
"Wanyin-ge, did anyone tell you that you are unnaturally stubborn for a Lan?"
Lan Wanyin levels him with a withering glare. "Song-gongzi, did anyone tell you that you are ridiculously noisy for a human?"
The cheeky smile on Jiang Xichen's face freezes in place. "No…?"
"Great, I'm the first then." Lan Wanyin smirks. "Shut up."
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
Without stopping, Jiang Xichen and Lan Wanyin reach Dafan Mountain before dark.
Upon arriving at the foot of the mountain, Lan Wanyin takes a peculiar looking compass out from his sleeve. Jiang Xichen leans in, peering over Lan Wanyin's shoulder.
The designs and pointer on this particular compass are vastly different from a regular one, with the dial void of markings demarcating North, South, East, and West.
It is not a compass used to navigate directions, but instead, to guide the cultivator to the nearest and strongest malicious creature.
Jiang Xichen recognizes the design from the rudimentary sketches Wei Wuxian used to make for his inventions. They had even discussed the inner workings of this particular invention several times back at Lotus Pier.
“Wanyin-ge, is this the Compass of Evil that Wei Wuxian from Yunmeng Jiang made? I heard that it's pretty accurate in pointing out the way to the prey! Can I take a look too?"
“It is not showing anything,” Lan Wanyin replies, holding out the compass for Jiang Xichen to inspect. The pointer on the compass spins around leisurely, not settling down in any one specific direction. “Maybe there is something here that is interfering with the pointer’s direction.”
Jiang Xichen tilts his head contemplatively. Knowing Wei Wuxian, he wouldn’t possibly stop making improvements to his inventions until it was impeccable, so for the Compass of Evil to still be this imprecise after seven years…
“Lan er-gongzi!” A voice interrupts them from behind, and they both turn to notice a man in his fifties, frail and skittish, eyeing the recognizable cloud motifs on Lan Wanyin's outfit in relief. “Lan er-gongzi, I am this town's mayor. We’ve been waiting for you since yesterday. If you’d please…”
The mayor gestures a hand to his side, ushering for Lan Wanyin to follow him. Lan Wanyin takes several steps forward, before pausing to peer at Jiang Xichen when he notices that the latter is not following them.
“I’ll stay here," Jiang Xichen clarifies when he catches Lan Wanyin's eye, gesturing to the liquor store behind himself with a sly half-smirk. "I want to check out some of the establishments.”
Lan Wanyin completely misunderstands, and his face darkens for a split second before he stalks off after the mayor with a huff.
Jiang Xichen does not bother correcting Lan Wanyin, and simply waits until Lan Wanyin is completely out of sight before turning to the store.
Now that he has successfully split ways with Lan Wanyin without raising his suspicions, all he has to do now is to find the prey before the other man does, and a winehouse is one of the best places to gather information.
Jiang Xichen barely manages to take two steps forward, when suddenly, someone bumps into him from behind. He whirls around to see a girl with dull eyes and a dreamy smile on her face as she stares into the distance without blinking.
Jiang Xichen follows her gaze, and notices the dense mountaintop of Dafan Mountain.
"Excuse me," Jiang Xichen begins, but the girl doesn't even acknowledge his presence. Instead, she begins dancing in front of him.
The dance is wild, with her spinning in wide circles and flinging her arms out savagely, almost hitting Jiang Xichen right in the face. He swiftly dodges it and takes another step back, raising a brow in confusion, when an older woman runs over and embraces the dancing girl tightly, as if she is trying her best to pin the latter's arms to her sides. “A-Yan, let’s go back, let’s go back!”
A-Yan brushes her off forcefully, and continues dancing as she makes her way down the street. The woman chases after her, sobbing while running.
"How awful," a street vendor on the side clicks his tongue. “How very awful. A-Yan from Blacksmith Zheng’s family has escaped again. It must be horrible for her mother. Her husband, her daughter and her son-in-law… All of them were…”
Jiang Xichen turns to the street vendor, noting the wares he is peddling—a line of crudely made xiao that barely look like they could produce any proper sound. Still, he picks one of them up, feeling the weight of it in his hand before spinning it deftly between his fingers.
“Hey mister, if you don't mind telling me more, exactly what happened to A-Yan?” Jiang Xichen prompts, dropping several coins into the vendor's hand. Money makes the mare go, after all. "Keep the change."
The owner's eyes twinkle, glad to finally have someone to share the juicy town gossip with. "Are you sure you want to know more?"
Jiang Xichen tries his best to mirror the owner's enthusiasm. "Of course, of course! Right down to the very last detail!"
The owner leans in, wringing his hands together with glee. "So here on Dafan Mountain, we have a burial ground…"
Notes:
1. Tanghulu (糖葫芦) is a sweet treat that is traditionally made from Chinese hawthorn, and is covered in a hardened candy syrup. Back
2. Here are some common Chinese street foods that are common for breakfast (according to google). Please bear with me if there are any inaccuracies. Here we have baozi (包子 steamed pork buns), jianbing (煎饼, consisting of a wheat and grain-based crepe, an egg, deep-fried crackers), roujiamo (肉夹馍, something similar to a hamburger, but better), and youtiao (油条, deep-fried doughsticks). Back
3. Jiang Xichen has completely no idea and it’s a wild guess, but Song Hengyi here is indeed 23 years old, and Lan Wanyin is 28. If Jiang Xichen had been alive, he would have been 30. (For the record, Lan Wangji is currently 30 and Wei Wuxian is 29). Hope that puts all the ages and age gaps into perspective!) Back
4. This is a reference to “好人做到底，送佛送到西。” which means something like when you do a good deed, you do it all the way to the end. Back
***
This ending scene is set on the night Lan Wanyin met Song Hengyi (Chapter 2, Reincarnation). Enjoy!
"Song Hengyi," Lan Wanyin repeats the name aloud when he is back in his room. There's something about the tone and way of speech of this person named Song Hengyi that’s strangely familiar, but it doesn’t draw Lan Wanyin’s attention away from how there’s something uncanny about this entire situation, something Lan Wanyin cannot put his finger to.
The family name ‘Song’ commonly follows the main line of Baixue Temple, which had been completely wiped out in a single night several years ago. Although Lan Wanyin had been in seclusion then, he had heard the rumours, and knows that the culprit is someone the head priest and his son, Song Lan, adopted into the family.
Song Hengyi had betrayed the trust and care of his family and bitten the hand that had fed him for years. For this crime alone, the cultivation world had deemed him guilty, and the Jins organised a public execution.
So why was this man that he found at Baixue Temple tonight masquerading as Song Hengyi? And strangely, he called himself a rogue cultivator, but seemingly has no idea of what happened at Baixue Temple either.
Lan Wanyin tries to recall the state Baixue Temple was in when he found the other man—the razed compounds, the amount of blood, the demonic arm—and Song Hengyi’s explanation for it, that he was there just to find something that would give him a decent reward.
Could it all just be a coincidence? Someone with the exact same name?
Lan Wanyin had never met Song Hengyi face to face after all.
Lan Wanyin sets his qin down onto the table and settles behind it, running his fingers along the silk strings.
No, he shouldn’t be thinking about this. He would just be bringing this man over to Cloud Recesses and passing him over to a fellow Lan cultivator. Compared to worrying over the motives of Song Hengyi, Lan Wanyin should be much more concerned over what he should say when he finally meets his elder brother again.
He had been avoiding his brother and anything related to the cultivation world after Jiang Xichen’s death, choosing to travel on his own instead. The last time he returned to Cloud Recesses was almost two years ago, for his brother’s wedding with Wei Wuxian, and Lan Wanyin had stayed for a mere week because the sight of all the other cultivators who had a part to play in the Siege brings back a myriad of painful memories for him.
“Xichen-ge,” Lan Wanyin whispers in the empty inn room, raising both hands to the qin strings and plays a familiar song that he had been playing around this same time everyday since the Sunshot Campaign—their song.
Chapter 8: Rekindle II
Notes:
1. Technically, this is set seven years after the Siege (instead of thirteen), and the Goddess on Dafan Mountain shouldn’t be consuming souls yet, but let’s look away from that and indulge in the familiarity and slight differences for this arc.
2. There was also some confusion as to whether Wei Wuxian is adopted into the Jiang family in this AU because he calls Jiang Xichen ‘ge’ (older brother), and my answer is no. Wei Wuxian and Jiang Xichen are still only martial brothers here, and Wei Wuxian only calls Jiang Xichen ‘ge’ when they are out of Madam Yu’s earshot, as a term of familiarity more than actual blood-related connections.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
<PRESENT>
Jiang Xichen deftly spins the recently purchased xiao between nimble fingers as he hikes up the beaten trail leading from the town towards the summit of Dafan Mountain.
The store owner had given him clear instructions. On the peak of Dafan Mountain is their famed temple, constructed for the sole purpose of enshrining a dancing goddess statue that is said to be able to grant any wish—but the destination that Jiang Xichen has in mind; the burial grounds, is located a little ways before it.
It’s impossible to miss, the owner had told him repeatedly, because the townspeople felled many trees in the area last year to make space, resulting in a large misshapen clearing. However, this was a poor decision by the mayor, because without the tree roots to hold the soil back, landslides became a lot more common.
In fact, there had been one right on the burial grounds on a dark and stormy night a few months ago, which destroyed many of the older graves, causing them to be exposed to the air and subsequently struck by lighting.
The sight of charred black corpses and coffins unnerved many townspeople, and the elders swiftly conducted rites and rebuilt the burial grounds. Once completed, they cordoned off the mountain trail as a precaution, and simply assumed that they had successfully appeased the spirits who had been disturbed.
However, ever since then, people in the town started to lose their souls.
The first victim was a sluggard, a poor and slothful man who preferred spending his days hiking and catching birds instead of doing any actual work. He happened to be stuck on the mountain during the night of the landslide, and peculiarly, returned the next morning with a sudden change in mindset.
He wanted to settle down quickly, and swiftly found a matchmaker to throw a rather grand wedding within a couple of days. However, he lapsed into illness on the night of his wedding, and never got up again. Aside from being able to breathe, he was no different from a dead person. After a few days of lying in bed without eating or drinking anything, the sluggard finally succumbed to hunger and fatigue.
The bride became a widow shortly after she was married.
The second victim was A-Yan, from Blacksmith Zheng’s family. She had just received an engagement proposal when her future husband was killed by a wolf on one of his hunts. After A-Yan received the news, she broke down and locked herself in her room, rejecting all her meals. After two days, her parents forcefully barged into her room to realise that she too, became completely unresponsive.
Though, unlike the sluggard, A-Yan recovered within a few days. Unfortunately, she was not completely unscathed from this episode, because she went crazy and started cheerfully dancing in front of other people whenever she was outdoors.
Her father, Blacksmith Zheng, was the third victim. And up until now, a total of seven people have lost their souls.
Jiang Xichen twirls the xiao in his hand two more times before tucking it back into his waist belt. He can see the outline of the aforementioned clearing after the next winding curve on the trail, and he feels his pulse hastening. The roar of adrenaline pumping through his veins gets louder the closer he draws to the burial ground.
He can't wait to find the evil entity that has been released by the landslide and lightning.
A soul-consuming spirit that is strong enough to consume seven souls within such a short period of time would likely not be an easy prey, but that is exactly what Jiang Xichen needs now.
“Bingo,” Jiang Xichen mutters under his breath, as he steps into the perimeter of the burial grounds to see the hazy outline of a spirit.
He hastily gathers the majority of the resentment energy in his body into a single point on his right palm, ready to unleash it—only to realise that it is just the lone spirit of a harmless-looking old man hovering near the line of gravestones.
The ghost is dressed in elaborate burial robes made with fine fabrics and craftsmanship, suggesting that he is likely to be a spirit released from one of the coffins during the landslide, instead of a soul that a living human lost. Yet, there is nothing about this ghost that will qualify him as a ‘ferocious spirit’. In fact, he barely seems to even possess enough resentment energy to remain materialised for much longer.
“It hurts, it hurts…”
Jiang Xichen releases his hold on the gathered resentment energy, allowing it to mellow out and slowly sink back into his body, before approaching the old man cautiously. “Where does it hurt?”
The old man cradles his head, whimpering. “Head. My head hurts...”
“May I take a look at it?”
Jiang Xichen takes several steps over to the side of the man and waits patiently for him to raise his head. There is a large and bloodied dent on his forehead—the perfect evidence that he was likely killed by a single blunt force that fractured his skull.
“Why are you here? Where’s your body?”
As if the question unleashed something in him, the old man's mien darkens visibly and he lunges forward without warning, grabbing onto Jiang Xichen's forearms with a vice-like grip, before starting to wail in a hoarse voice.
"He stole my burial items. He stole them all!"
The resentment energy in him sparks, increasing tremendously alongside with the volume of his wailing. The wrinkled, pallid complexion on the ghost steadily whitens into a waxy ashen grey, and he glances up with deep, sunken eye sockets.
"He stole them!" The spirit starts shrieking as tears of blood flow down hollowed cheeks. "The lightning split my coffin open and he stole my burial goods!"
"Who stole them?" Jiang Xichen demands, but the old man simply tightens his bony grip, digging his fingers into the wounds on Jiang Xichen's forearm.
The resentment energy in the old man spikes exponentially. Jiang Xichen recoils, feeling a familiar sense of cold creeping in from their point of contact, falling over him like a blanket. He attempts to move away immediately, but the old man holds on steadfastly, repeating the same words over and over again.
The tendrils of resentment energy coming from the old man grows and thickens, seeping into Jiang Xichen without restraint, as if there is something in him that is forcefully drawing it in. Jiang Xichen watches with wide eyes as the pallid ghost fumbles, his mouth opening and closing unwittingly as his voice gets softer and softer, and his figure turns paler and more translucent... until he finally vanishes without a single trace.
Jiang Xichen swallows dryly, taking several steps backwards in disbelief.
What just happened?
Did he draw all the resentment energy the old man had into his own body?
He hadn't meant to do that, hadn't meant to pull any of the dark energy towards himself, but it had surged forward all the same, as if drawn by some invisible force to fill a void inside of himself.
And that, makes absolutely no sense.
Song Hengyi is a male and a cultivator—someone who should be brimming in yang energy. Regardless of the extent of damage done to his core, there is still no reason for Song Hengyi’s body to attract yin energy like this.1
It is unnatural, Jiang Xichen thinks to himself as he presses a hand to his chest, feeling the cold wisp from the additional burst of resentment energy settling into him, melding into and merging with the amount that was already present.
Moreover, that is not the only strange thing from this encounter.
If the old man is not the soul-consuming entity, why was his soul roaming freely on Dafan Mountain? Why was he not consumed yet?
Compared to living souls where the physical body acts like a shield, free-roaming dead souls are much easier to consume. So, why would the entity choose to forgo the easily obtainable dead soul, and choose to expend more effort to consume living souls instead?
Besides, the old man had said something that piqued his curiosity— the lightning split my coffin open and he stole my burial goods—hinting that there was someone who happened to be on the mountain on a stormy night, someone who saw the chance to take the goods and become rich, and seized it.
And there is only one person Jiang Xichen can remember fitting into this specific profile: the sluggard.
The gears in Jiang Xichen's head spin, reframing his interpretation of the entire situation. The vendor's understanding is not the complete story, and probably, the mayor's version would not be either.
The townspeople have attributed this whole happening to a disease, or a soul-consuming entity at best, but they have all underestimated it.
It is something far more sinister.
The creature at Dafan Mountain isn't a sprite, demon, ghost, or monster, but a goddess. It is a goddess born from hundreds of years of worship and incense, and every soul that it obtained thus far was from an equivalent exchange—a wish for a soul.
That's why Wei Wuxian's Compass of Evil failed to pick up any signs of a malicious entity.
Jiang Xichen glances up at the summit of Dafan Mountain, located less than a ten minute walk away from the burial grounds.
The sun is setting, just starting to dip under the horizon. Jiang Xichen knows it is much better to wait for nightfall so he can make use of the darkness and shadows as a cover when he wields resentment energy, but something tells him that he can't afford to wait.
If he can come up with this conclusion with so little information, he has no doubt that Lan Wanyin will be able to do the same as well. In fact, he might even be on his way here right now. And Jiang Xichen has to take down the Goddess before Lan Wanyin arrives. He cannot afford to be caught wielding resentment energy. That is too big of a risk.
Besides, he would have a much better chance than Lan Wanyin at fighting it off.
Unlike the pristine Second Jade of Lan who has no choice but to use magical weapons and spiritual energy—both of which are akin to fighting fire with fire—Jiang Xichen has the option of using demonic cultivation. It is something unexpected and unlawful in the cultivation world, but it will probably work on the Goddess.
With his mind made up, Jiang Xichen sets off towards the summit of Dafan Mountain, prepared to face off against the all-powerful dancing goddess that has protected Buddha’s Feet for generations.
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
Despite the small appearance of the cave from the outside, the inside is actually rather spacious, with the three meter tall statue of the goddess set right in the centre. At first sight, the stone figure does indeed look ethereally beautiful, with features so similar to a human that Jiang Xichen would never have guessed it is naturally formed.
And it is probably because of this same reason, that the previous generations of the townspeople at Buddha’s Feet decided to name it the 'Dancing Goddess'. They fashioned the cave at the peak of Dafan Mountain into a temple, adding a table for offerings right before the statue and displaying candles and fabric drapery to make it look more like an erjin temple.2
There are usually worshippers all year round, but the recent rumour about a fierce creature appearing on Dafan Mountain deterred all the regular worshippers from climbing up the trail religiously everyday.
The neglect is evident in the thick layer of incense ash covering the entirety of the tabletop. Extinguished candles line both the platform and the corners of the cave in a disorderly manner, with dried red wax trailing down their sides and dotting the tabletop and dirt ground. Even the usual fruit offerings are all rotten, emanating a pungent yet sickly sweet scent.
Jiang Xichen makes a face.
If it were the righteous Lans here now, Jiang Xichen has no doubt that they would make a wish for the soul-consuming creature in Dafan Mountain to materialise before them so they can be sure the statue is the perpetrator before destroying it.
But Jiang Xichen is far from being that benevolent; he was once the heartless Yiling Patriarch after all.
He has a much more effective way to get the goddess to show her true self.
Jiang Xichen concentrates a portion of the dark energy in him without hesitation, feeling it ripple across the surface of his skin from his shoulder right down to the tips of his fingers. The dense volume of resentment energy sparks in black bolts lined with rich purple on his palm, and he holds it there for an instant, letting it build up before releasing it directly at the statue’s shoulder.
The projectile scrapes against the stone, grazing across the surface. It leaves a huge crumbling gash in its wake before ricocheting against the walls behind the goddess.
The damage to the statue seems to have flipped a switch. The air in the cave grows stale and heavy instantly. Then, as if on cue, all the candles on the platform and corners of the cave ignite on their own. Ominous reddish-orange hues from the flames flicker across dark walls, closely resembling rivulets of cascading blood.
Jiang Xichen casts a quick glance around the space before returning his focus to the goddess, only to find that her pose has completely changed. Previously, she had a foot and both her arms lifted into a graceful form, but now, her arms are lowered and the compassionate smile on her features appears menacing under the dim amber candlelight.
However, Jiang Xichen’s smirk simply widens at his realisation. If he had any doubts that this statue is the culprit for the consumption of living souls before, they are all completely gone by now.
“Hey, tell me, do human souls taste good?” Jiang Xichen taunts, his tone mocking. The soul-consuming goddess tilts her head to the side, peering at Jiang Xichen with the same blank smile plastered on her face.
Their eyes meet.
In the next moment, she twists her body and throws her limbs out savagely while stepping down from the platform. Her movements are strange and uncoordinated, and yet, still remain disturbingly elegant as she advances towards him.
Despite her large cumbersome size, the goddess' speed is terrifyingly fast and she decreases the distance between them by half within the blink of an eye.
Jiang Xichen stands his ground, kneeling down and pressing his hand to the floor. He gathers all the resentment energy in his body and pushes it through the ground, sending it towards the goddess in a line of low spikes.
They pierce the goddess’ soles, shattering her heels and bringing her down to her knees. Still, she doesn’t falter, and immediately thrusts her head out towards him without missing a beat, opening her mouth in preparation to suck his soul.
Jiang Xichen ducks, sidestepping the attack. The goddess smashes head-on into the walls of the cave with her momentum.
The shock from the force loosens several rocks, making a portion of the cave collapse.
Jiang Xichen clicks his tongue in annoyance, pulling his hand back. The motion drags the resentment energy he released into the ground back out along with it, forming a protective shield overhead as he rolls swiftly to his side and out of the cave.
The goddess crashes out after him head-first, crawling on the ground with her hands and stomach.
“Are you sure you want to come after my soul even though I didn’t make a wish? You’ll be considered an evil being by the gods, you know?” Jiang Xichen sneers, attempting to provoke the goddess again.
It works, because the smile on her face turns almost bitter at Jiang Xichen's words, and she lunges at him without restraint.
And that is the exact moment Jiang Xichen is waiting for.
He withdraws his dominant hand, pulling it in a wide arc behind himself. The malleable dark matter follows the action, fashioning itself into a whip under Jiang Xichen's manipulation, spazzing purple in the air around him.
Jiang Xichen waits patiently for the goddess to come closer, to come within range. Then, he sends the crackling whip out with a quick snap of his wrist.
It lands against the side of the goddess’ neck with vicious precision.
The blow cracks her neck, twisting her head around with sheer force. And yet, even with the back of her head facing Jiang Xichen, she still continues reaching out to him with her outstretched right hand.
Jiang Xichen gives another blow without any hesitation, cutting that limb cleanly off.
The goddess bows her hand to peer at her broken arm. Then, instead of turning her head back towards the correct direction, she chooses to spin her entire body around to face Jiang Xichen instead.
Jiang Xichen makes a face, absolutely disgusted by the sight. He sends the whip out again, but controls it a little differently this time, making it longer and slimmer. It snakes around the statue, tying her limbs together, and renders her completely immobile.
Despite being utterly cornered, the triumphant smile on the goddess' face does not falter. Oddly unnerved, Jiang Xichen hastily draws back and clenches his outstretched hand.
The resentment energy he is wielding yields to the command and constricts around the stone figure without delay. She struggles in the tightening grip, convulsing, but it barely does much.
The tendrils continue wrapping around her, squeezing relentlessly, until her stone body crumbles into pieces.
A marble-sized sphere falls out amidst the white pile of rocks scattered on the ground, reflecting a circle of pure light in the colour of snow as it rolls across the short distance between the remains of the statue to Jiang Xichen’s feet. He bends over and picks it up, holding it up to his eye level.
It is a beast core, something that is formed with the condensation of human souls.
Jiang Xichen had seen something similar before, back at the Siege on the Burial Mounds seven years ago.
He remembers how frigid the jet-black core had felt in his hand as he ripped it out. It was an unpleasant experience, vile and repulsive.
But the snow-white core from the goddess statue is different. Holding it instils a blank sense of peace inside him.
Jiang Xichen straightens his posture and releases his control on the mass of resentment energy, watching as it fizzles out around him and dissipates into the surroundings.
The effect on his body is immediate. He feels lighter instantly.
It is a feeling he hadn't felt in ages, not ever since the start of the Sunshot Campaign.
Jiang Xichen reaches into his sleeve cheerily, fumbling around for a storage pouch to pocket the core. All that is left to do now is to pass the core to Lan Wanyin. With any luck, they might even be able to restore the souls of the recent victims.
He pulls the pouch out as he turns on his heel, all prepared to descend the mountain—but a sharp pain deep within his chest makes him freeze completely.
Jiang Xichen doesn't even have sufficient time to form a coherent thought before all the resentment energy that he has just released into the surroundings rebounds back into his body all at once, rushing into him as if filling a void. It meets his delicate golden core head-on with a mind-numbing force, and Jiang Xichen’s jaw falls slack as he lets out a strangled whimper.
Sweat beads on his forehead, trickling down his temple as Jiang Xichen squeezes his eyes shut. He grasps futilely at his chest with his free hand. The building ache is bone-deep, the unwarranted pain crushing into his core in multiple waves, before radiating out to his extremities. It feels as if a hundred thousand knives are cutting into him at once, slicing through muscle and sinew.
He clenches his teeth together, battling the urge to give in to the intensifying sensation of agony mounting in him—until his willpower finally cracks and he yields, knees buckling. His body slumps forward weakly, folding in on itself.
Jiang Xichen braces himself for the impending impact, but it never comes.
There is a brief scent of the muted fragrance of a lotus, accompanying the warmth of a body against his back and a hand closing around his wrist from behind.
A wash of spiritual energy flows into Jiang Xichen from their point of contact, counteracting the rampaging resentment energy in him, and represses the pain down to a manageable level.
Jiang Xichen remains in that position for the length of a heartbeat, basking in the warmth, before cracking open a bleary eye to glance up at Lan Wanyin.
He swallows thickly in response to the mass of unexplainable expressions flitting across the depths of Lan Wanyin’s eyes.
Of course he should have suspected that the gods wouldn’t let him get off easy even once. First, his plan to rid himself of resentment energy completely backfired, and next, the only person he hoped wouldn’t spot him manipulating resentment energy runs headlong into him.
But as long as he doesn't confess, there is nothing Lan Wanyin can do to him anyway. He will just maneuver his way out of Lan Wanyin’s suspicions by distracting him again, just like this morning.
"What impeccable timing, Wanyin-ge." Jiang Xichen laughs. "Well well well, they do say that a hero always shows up late but this is the second time in two short days. I'm inclined to believe that you're stalking me on the go so you can play your 'save the damsel' card—"
“Demonic cultivation is a forbidden cultivation method.”
“And so is stealing, but has that stopped the poor, starving people from trying—”
Jiang Xichen cuts himself off with a muffled gasp when Lan Wanyin tightens his grip around his wrist. The Lan arm strength isn't just a myth, and when combined with the deteriorating ritual wounds, sends a debilitating shock of pain shooting up his arm from wrist to shoulder. Jiang Xichen’s fingers loosen, almost dropping the core.
“Careful! What would you do if we break the core? That’s the cure for the soul-consuming disease, you know?”
Lan Wanyin completely ignores Jiang Xichen’s comment, choosing to narrow his eyes at Jiang Xichen instead, his steel-blue gaze calculative and searching.
“There is no one else who knows how to wield resentment energy effectively after the Yiling Patriarch.”
“Supposedly no one,” Jiang Xichen corrects blandly. “There’s me.”
Jiang Xichen attempts to pull away, but Lan Wanyin holds on steadfastly, keeping Jiang Xichen securely locked in place in front of him.
"Wanyin-ge, why aren't you letting go? What would people think if they were to see you standing this close to another man?"
Lan Wanyin stares down at him impassively, the slightest hint of a frown marring his brows. The wind picks up around them at this exact moment, filling the silence between the two men with the soft rustling of leaves.
“Who exactly are you?”
Jiang Xichen’s blood runs cold, his heartbeat roaring in his ears when he hears those words. He chuckles coldly, pulling the corners of his lips into a twisted smile as he glances up at Lan Wanyin.
“Who do you hope that I am?”
They stay like that for a long moment, simply staring at each other, until Lan Wanyin gives in first and pulls away.
“We won’t be going to Cloud Recesses anymore. I will go with you personally to find the remaining body parts.”
Notes:
1. Yang energy is generally linked with males, warmth, positivity and goodness. On the other hand, yin energy is often matched with females, cold, dark, negativity and evil. These aren’t the only takes or distinctions between the two (it’s more complicated than that) but that’s what I am going for here. Back
2. This is a type of temple which is usually set in remote mountains or forests, with monks living in them and few visitors. Because of its nature, erjin temples are usually quite large in size. Back
Chapter 9: Redemption I
Notes:
I'm not sure how many of you are aware, but in case you aren't, the footnotes for the chapters in Asunder are actually linked! You can click on the number in the chapter itself and it will bring you to the corresponding footnote in the End Notes section, and clicking "Back" at the end of that footnote will bring you right back to the section in the chapter where you stopped at, so there's no need to scroll at all :)
This is a long chapter and there's also an End Notes scene (in LWY's POV of course) so buckle up and let's get going~
Enjoy!!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
<PRESENT>
Jiang Xichen did not expect this turn of events.
After the confrontation, he expected Lan Wanyin to be more on guard around him, to monitor his every movement. He even spent the past few days thinking up a hundred and one explanations to convince the other man that he couldn’t possibly be the reincarnation of the Yiling Patriarch, but strangely, Lan Wanyin hasn’t shown any signs of asking him about it.
Did he somehow manage to convince Lan Wanyin? Jiang Xichen thought he was being a little too suspicious on Dafan Mountain, but maybe he was just overthinking it?
Jiang Xichen steals a glance at the other man from the corner of his eye, his mouth itching to speak. However, Lan Wanyin simply continues staring straight ahead, barely acknowledging his presence.
A long awkward silence stretches between them, and Jiang Xichen averts his gaze, turning his attention back to the chirping birds and buzzing insects as they plod quietly along, following the left arm’s direction northwards—up from Dafan Mountain towards Qinghe. As they neared Qinghe, the qiankun pouch that the arm is in begins moving all of a sudden, starting with small tremors that quickly grow into light twitches.
This means that they are steadily drawing closer to the destination the arm is pointing them towards.
They attempt to ask around for any strange happenings as they travel through the different towns while night-hunting, but it isn’t until they arrive at a small city in Qinghe that they acquire their first clue.
"Wanyin-ge, ah, Wanyin-ge," Jiang Xichen calls the moment they enter the town, pointing at a winehouse in the distance. Bright red banners of all shapes and sizes hang on the shop’s storefront, fluttering in the wind. There are several round, black jars placed around the entrance, and the strong scent of liquor emanates from them, wafting down the street. "We have been walking for so long, why don't we take a break?"
Lan Wanyin slows to a stop beside Jiang Xichen and levels him with a judgmental stare. “For alcohol?”
“For food!” Jiang Xichen pretends as if he can’t understand Lan Wanyin’s expression and leans in, cupping a hand around his mouth as he whispers into the latter’s ear. “Look, the waiters in the shop are all young and hardworking. With so many customers around, they would inevitably know of some gossip here and there, right? So, instead of walking around aimlessly, wouldn’t it be easier for us to ask them for information about any strange happenings in the area?”
Without waiting for a reply, Jiang Xichen immediately grabs Lan Wanyin’s wrist over his sleeve and all but drags the other man into the liquor shop. Upon crossing the threshold of the grand store, an enthusiastic waiter approaches and ushers them to the last remaining vacant table.
“What would you Young Masters like to order today? Other than our wine, our dishes are also very famous! No matter what your food preferences are, there's definitely a dish for you here!”
Jiang Xichen crosses his arms over his chest and shoots the waiter a wry smile. “What would you recommend then?”
“Well, we have fish dishes like jin mao shi zi yu and bai long guo jiang, meat dishes such as li zi hong shao rou, as well as a spicy vegetarian dish xiang xian sheng dou fu!”1
What do you mean by having a dish for everyone, Jiang Xichen muses, his smile wavering as he peers over at Lan Wanyin. Knowing Gusu Lan’s diet, the meat dishes are probably a no-go, but what rotten luck must Lan Wanyin have for the recommended vegetarian dish to be spicy as well?
However, Lan Wanyin doesn’t even falter.
“Give me one of each dish you mentioned.” Lan Wanyin glances over to Jiang Xichen shortly after making his order, meeting his gaze for a brief moment before turning back to the waiter with a soft sigh. “As well as a jar of your best alcohol.”
Jiang Xichen blinks twice, eyeing Lan Wanyin with a mix of confusion and doubt.
First, Lan Wanyin orders meat dishes and spicy food, and now, he orders alcohol too?! What happened to the Lan Wanyin of the past? What happened to the boy that teared up from the tiniest amount of spice, and got light-headed just from the smell of alcohol?!
Lan Wanyin turns to him, an elegant brow inquisitively arched skywards at the sheer number of emotions flitting across Jiang Xichen’s face. “What is it?”
The waiter arrives with their jar of alcohol then, and Jiang Xichen busies himself with filling up the liquor bowls as he ponders about a suitable response.
"No, I was just wondering why you’d order alcohol. You look like a lightweight.”
Lan Wanyin traces the tip of his index finger slowly around the brim of the dark liquor bowl Jiang Xichen pushes over to him, before looking up with a confident smirk. “Is that a challenge?”
Jiang Xichen swallows thickly, the liquor leaving a trail of heat burning down his throat. That was not the response he was expecting at all.
“No, wait, I heard that alcohol was forbidden in Cloud Recesses. Since when did the Second Jade of all people start bending the rules?”
“Ever since I became family with Wei Wuxian.”
Jiang Xichen chokes on his liquor.
“Became family?!”
All the patrons in the store whip their heads over to Jiang Xichen, frowning at him for his irrationally loud outburst. Jiang Xichen scratches the back of his head and smiles sheepishly at them.
“Became family,” Lan Wanyin confirms, nodding along to his own words as he cradles the untouched bowl of liquor in his hands. “Wei-ge treats me really well. I love going to Lotus Pier.”
“I see…” Jiang Xichen replies, his voice unnaturally strained. If it were under any other circumstances, he would have probably leapt in joy at hearing Lan Wanyin’s supposed bias for Lotus Pier, but definitely not when it’s coupled with the image of Lan Wanyin with a shy smile and a soft blush on his face while saying… s-saying…
Jiang Xichen feels the vein at his temple throb. He had never expected Wei Wuxian of all people to betray him like this! And Wei-ge?! Wanyin hasn’t even once called him Xichen-ge before!
Lan Wanyin sets his liquor bowl back onto the table gingerly. Then, with downcast eyes, he starts fiddling with Zidian, twisting the purple ring on his forefinger around. “I miss him.”
Jiang Xichen drops his bowl.
C-Could he have misunderstood it all along? Perhaps the reason why Lan Wanyin is wearing Zidian isn’t because of him, but because it is an engagement present by Wei Wuxian?
Zidian’s significance as an heirloom would make it the perfect betrothal gift after all.
Lan Wanyin glances up at him, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.
Jiang Xichen takes a sharp intake of breath.
The marriage of the Sect Leader of Yunmeng Jiang and the Second Jade of Lan would definitely take the cultivation world by storm, so if Jiang Xichen appears to be surprised, it would only mean that he is not aware of their marriage, and that would blow his cover as Song Hengyi. The best course of action for him right now is to laugh it off and backpedal to their original plan of asking around for information.
Whether Lan Wanyin is married or not is secondary. All Jiang Xichen wants is a platonic roadtrip with Lan Wanyin to collect the remaining body parts after all.
And as if on cue, the waiter from earlier approaches them with a sizable tray. “I’ve brought your order! This is our store’s famous jin mao shi zi yu, and bai—”
Jiang Xichen nudges the waiter, interrupting him.
“What impeccable timing. Xiao-er2, there’s something I want to ask you. Have you heard of any rumours of strange events around the area lately?”
“What sort of strange things?”
“Haunted houses, evil spirits, cases of dismembered corpses, incidents in which whole clans were destroyed, anything along those lines.”
“I don't think there are any around here, but if you go a bit less than two miles ahead, there’s a mountain ridge named Xinglu Ridge. I overheard several of the townspeople calling it the Man-Eating Ridge recently.”
Bingo! Jiang Xichen smirks, eyes twinkling in anticipation. He had not expected to get a clue so easily.
“Oh? And why is that?”
The talkative waiter leans over to whisper directly into Jiang Xichen’s ear. “Well, that’s because—”
“Move away from him.”
Jiang Xichen and the waiter freezes at Lan Wanyin’s cold and biting tone. They turn to him after a beat, slowly taking in the sight of the other man’s flushed face and unfocused gaze.
“Wanyin-ge, are you drunk…?”
Lan Wanyin looks from Jiang Xichen to the waiter and back to Jiang Xichen again. His gaze is vacant, yet strangely intense and murderous. The waiter quickly cowers behind Jiang Xichen in fear, desperately using the taller man as a meatshield against Lan Wanyin’s unwarranted wrath.
However, that only seems to cause an opposite effect.
“I said, get the fuck away from him!” Lan Wanyin seethes. He unsheathes Sandu in a single swift motion and lunges across the table at them, swinging the blade down.
“W-Wanyin?!”
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
Jiang Xichen had never seen a worse drunk than this adult Lan Wanyin.
He’d thought a drunk Lan Wanyin would become much more sulky and pouty than usual, but he was definitely not expecting a dark and fuming Lan Wanyin who would brandish a sword at a commoner for absolutely no reason in particular!
And the worst thing is… Lan Wanyin seemingly has no recollection of anything that transpired in the winehouse, and is looking at him with a moderately judgmental gaze as if he was the one who got them tossed out of the store!
Jiang Xichen sighs, raising the xiao he previously purchased at Dafan Mountain to his lips and starts playing one of the classics— mei hua san nong3—to ward off boredom and the dreadful silence amidst the large cedarwood forest.
Unfortunately, the crudely made instrument is unable to make any decent sound, and the resulting broken melody sounds like nails grating on a chalkboard, with a high resounding whoosh that urges people to urinate. Not far in front of them, a rabbit that was about to hop into their path stumbles over its own feet, and hastily retreats back in the direction it came from. Meanwhile, a crow flying past falls from the sky and lands right before them, squawking and flapping its wings as if it were in mortal pain.
Lan Wanyin clears his throat. "S-Song-gongzi, where are we headed to?"
To Lan Wanyin’s relief, Jiang Xichen takes the bait and lowers his instrument.
"Xinglu Ridge. There's rumors of a monster that devours anyone who ventures inside it without leaving a single crumb behind. They couldn’t even find any corpses! Isn’t it scary, Wanyin-ge~?”
“How would it be possible for the townspeople to know that the victims were eaten if there are no corpses left behind?”
“Good thing you asked! As the saying goes, there’s no smoke without fire.4 If there’s such a rumor going around and the Nie Sect hasn’t acted on it yet, it can only mean that they are the ones behind the rumor.”
If Jiang Xichen had known that Nie Mingjue had passed away four years ago from a bout of qi deviation, and the current Sect Leader is the infamous ‘head shaker’ Nie Huaisang, he probably wouldn’t have said this with the same amount of conviction and confidence.
However, despite the seven year gap, Jiang Xichen had simply assumed that Nie Mingjue was still the Sect Leader of Qinghe Nie. Knowing how resolute Nie Mingjue is, he is certain that the Nie Sect would have raided Xinglu Ridge as soon as they caught wind of these rumors.
“Hm? Wanyin-ge, why are you so silent? Does what I say not make sense?”
Lan Wanyin doesn’t reply to him, but instead keeps his eyes trained straight ahead. Jiang Xichen follows his gaze and spots seven or eight figures approaching them from a distance. They are a group of slow bumbling low-level walking corpses, weak and frail. Aside from how awful they look and smell, they pose absolutely no threat at all.
Yet, upon seeing them walk over, Jiang Xichen quickly turns to Lan Wanyin, expecting the latter to make quick work of the entities, but Lan Wanyin simply remains still, not making a single movement.
“Wanyin-ge, why aren’t you getting rid of them? Are we supposed to just stand here and wait to get eaten?”
Lan Wanyin shoots him a look. “If what you said about the Nie Sect spreading the rumours is true, then wouldn't these walking corpses be a part of their plan too? We can’t just kill them off. Besides, they are not attacking us.”
“But this and that are two separate matters! How else would we get them to retreat?”
Lan Wanyin gestures to the xiao in Jiang Xichen’s hand with an expressionless face. “Your flute.”
Jiang Xichen’s jaw drops. He cradles the instrument protectively. “Wanyin-ge, are you suggesting that my music is terrible?”
“It’s said that Wei Wuxian’s dizi playing is unparalleled—able to make the dead come back to life. However, Song-gongzi, your skill with the xiao is a level above his.”
Jiang Xichen’s eyes sparkle at the unfounded compliment.
“It’s able to drive the living to death.”
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
Jiang Xichen is speechless.
It isn’t that he is particularly offended by Lan Wanyin’s assumption that his flute playing is bad. On the contrary, it actually works in his favour. With Jiang Xichen known for his impressive prowess with the xiao, having his poor skill with the same instrument as a contrast would simply make Lan Wanyin suspect him less!
However, knowing the logic and rationale behind it doesn’t make the words hurt any less—and seeing the walking corpses immediately turning around to retreat at two or three times their approaching speed the moment he started playing… still takes a toll on Jiang Xichen’s ego.
Lan Wanyin continues walking into the cedarwood forest, paying no mind to Jiang Xichen’s internal turmoil. After a long moment of silence that’s only punctuated with the chirping of birds, Jiang Xichen finally gives up and chases after the retreating back of the white-clothed man.
“Something is not right,” Lan Wanyin says the moment Jiang Xichen catches up with him.
“Not right?”
Lan Wanyin puts a finger to his lips. “Listen carefully. The chirping of the birds are repeated.”
It is after Lan Wanyin points it out that Jiang Xichen notices the oddity that the other man mentioned. There are normal, common forest sounds coming from around them—such as the trilling of birds, buzzing of insects and rustling of leaves—but there is something inherently off about them, something that Jiang Xichen can’t really put his finger to, but all the noises sound strangely fabricated.
Together as a whole, the forest sounds to be teeming with life, but when Jiang Xichen breaks it down and listens to each individual set of sound on its own, it quickly becomes obvious that their rhythm and cadence are perfectly identical, as if someone is mixing up a variety of songs and playing simply playing them all on repeat.
The reverberating sounds also appear near at times, then further away, creating a false sense of depth that primarily aims at confusing people’s sense of direction, and Jiang Xichen can pin-point one specific spell that fits the bill perfectly.
“It's a maze array,” Jiang Xichen deduces easily, without much hesitation. A maze array is a low-level technique that doesn’t require much regular maintenance, and would be especially useful to either keep travellers out or to trap a monster in on this secluded ridge.
There are several proven ways to dispel a maze array, and one of the most common methods actually originated from Gusu Lan—using music as a medium to counter the array with the same amount of energy.
Jiang Xichen retrieves his xiao from his waist belt and waves it cheekily at Lan Wanyin.
“Shall I play something to dispel the illusion?”
Lan Wanyin does not honour him with a reply, but instead unstraps the qin from his back, balancing the lacquered instrument on the crook of his arm. There is a gentle spark of blue at the tip of Lan Wanyin’s forefinger right before it meets the silk string, and the resounding note reverberates through the entire forest.
The sound of something splintering and shattering follows the strum, and the barrier of illusion surrounding them crumbles in the next moment, giving way to a grey, overcast sky and the silhouettes of a line of creepy stone castles amidst the cedarwood forest.
The castles are made up of greyish-white stones stacked tightly one above another, without any visible openings for doors or windows. The resulting structures are arranged into hemispheres, resembling large overturned bowls on the ground.
Green vines and moss cover their entire exterior, and when coupled with the gloomy skies and flashes of lightning in the distance, simply adds to the eeriness of the situation.
The forest falls strangely silent then, and a thick fog materializes seemingly out of nowhere as the pair draws closer to the looming structures.
There is something unwanted here, something familiar, something dangerous.
Alarm bells ring incessantly in Jiang Xichen's mind, overpowering his five senses entirely as an irrational sense of foreboding grips him. The feeling compounds exponentially the closer he gets to the castles, making his stomach flip and his pulse hasten.
It starts with a single murmur at the back of his mind, low and gruff. It makes Jiang Xichen’s hair stand on end, but he barely has any time for a respite because the murmur quickly grows into an ocean of whispers, rustles, and giggles. The myriad of voices follow absolutely no discernible pattern, encompassing voices from both male and female, young and old, and in various different accents.
Jiang Xichen can even pick out a few fragmented sentences if he concentrates enough, but there are far too many voices and they coalesce to form a roar that rises to a disconcerting crescendo that throws him off balance. Jiang Xichen quickly braces himself with an outstretched hand against the wall of one of the stone castles, and a familiar thrum of resentment energy throbs within the rock just under Jiang Xichen's palm.
“Let me out of here! Set me free!"
The screams of a whimpering female resounds in Jiang Xichen’s head. Her voice is shrill, her wailing washing out all of the other softer muttering voices, and Jiang Xichen hastily withdraws his hand, pulling it towards himself in a wide arc. He stumbles backwards from the momentum.
Lan Wanyin turns around, eyeing him with a slight frown. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing much... I was just a little creeped out.” Jiang Xichen swallows dryly, taking a deep breath to steady his nerves. “Shall we enter? We still have to find the man-eating monster."
“There is no door.”
“Well, that’s a small issue.” Jiang Xichen takes several steps forward again. He presses his palm against the wall, allowing the female voice to take over his head again. Then slowly, he slides his hand around the hemisphere to the back of the stone castle, hearing a different voice each time he moves to a new portion of the wall—until he finally reaches a section with complete silence. “Blast it open right here.”
Lan Wanyin raises a brow.
Jiang Xichen smirks, giving the other man an encouraging pat on his shoulder. “Trust me.”
Lan Wanyin narrows his eyes at Jiang Xichen's gesture, remaining doubtful, but eventually relents. With a short sword incantation, Sandu unsheathes itself and flies forward with a bright glare. Four streaks of light sweeps past, forcefully blasting the rock wall into uneven fragments, leaving a huge gaping hole about a person’s height in its wake.
A gust of frigid air gushes out from within the castle, its stale scent sharp and unwelcoming. It’s the smell of death—a mix of muddiness and earthiness that only corpses exude. It is an odour Jiang Xichen is very familiar with from the days he spent on the Burial Mounds, and every cell in his body immediately goes on high-alert.
From the very first glance, Jiang Xichen can already tell that there is something terribly off about this place. Despite there being a large gaping hole, only a little light is able to penetrate the entrance, and the inside of the castle remains too dark for anything to be visible. The darkness is prevalent, as if there is something vile inside devouring all the light.
"Its response got larger," Lan Wanyin points out, gesturing to the qiankun pouch strung on Jiang Xichen's waist belt. Indeed, the dismembered hand has started thrashing around ever since they collapsed part of the wall. "The body part that it is leading us to might be inside."
"Seems like we have no choice then," Jiang Xichen answers when the pouch gives another twitch, then ducks his head down and enters first.
The atmosphere inside the stone castle is even more spooky and sinister than the forest occupying Xinglu Ridge. The interior is hauntingly chilly, and the darkness feels as if it will never end.
Lan Wanyin follows after him swiftly, pouring a tad more spiritual energy into Sandu to illuminate the dark path ahead. However, the distant weak glint of light coming from the sword barely suffices in the face of the omnipresent pitch darkness.
Jiang Xichen kicks several pebbles on the ground as hard as he can, attempting to use them to measure distance, but there’s no returning echo.
Still, it isn’t like they can simply stand around deliberating all day, and after sharing a look, they decide to continue venturing ahead. The dismembered arm twitches momentarily as they proceed, as if urging the duo to wander deeper into the structure. However, the further they go, the darker and more spacious the interior becomes, expanding into a warped hallway that encompasses several individual rooms.
The cool light from Sandu is unable to reach the far corners of the space anymore, and it creates the impression that there is something lurking there, waiting to pounce on them. The disturbing smell from earlier returns when they enter the first room—pervading the air with a dreadfully earthy but cloyingly sweet undertone that makes the hair on Jiang Xichen’s arm stand on end. There are soft, distant sounds all around them, unexplainable tiny click-clacks that puncture the dead silence.
Jiang Xichen gives the area a quick once-over before turning to Lan Wanyin.
“I wonder what secrets the Nie Sect have for them to require such a huge space," Jiang Xichen jests, waggling his brows at Lan Wanyin in an attempt to lighten the tense atmosphere. “Maybe they are secretly a clan of killers and this is where they hide the bodies of all their victims?”
It is definitely possible with the number of voices he had heard earlier. In fact, Jiang Xichen had expected to see piles of white bones and rotting bodies, or at the very least, booby traps. However, the only peculiar thing they come across is a black coffin in the middle of the third room.
The wood used is aged and lacquered into a shade of deep ebony. The craftsmanship is exquisite, with several intricately sculpted patterns adorning the surface of the casket. It is definitely not the quality a normal commoner would have been able to afford, and not something the Nie Sect is likely to give their disciples, hence there is only one plausible explanation: the one in the coffin must have been a sect leader.
Jiang Xichen runs his hand across the top of the casket as he slowly encircles it, trailing his finger through the thick layer of dust. He feels a distinct tinge of resentment energy thrumming under the lid. It’s brief and contained, just a gentle spark dancing up the length of his arm, leaving a trail of numbness in its wake.
It is not a debilitating amount of resentment energy, and Jiang Xichen is about to simply brush it off when the demonic arm starts twitching vigorously.
Jiang Xichen pats the qiankun pouch. “Hm? Look at you, getting so energetic all of a sudden. Does that mean that your other body parts are in this coffin?”
Lan Wanyin stares silently at Jiang Xichen, unimpressed.
Jiang Xichen grins in response, rapping his knuckles on the sturdy wood. "Wanyin-ge, say, what if the rest of his body is actually inside here?"
If the rest of the body parts are here, it would mean that their journey together would come to an end instantly. Jiang Xichen doesn’t put the line of thought into words, but the underlying meaning is obvious from his question alone.
After all, Lan Wanyin has the misconception that the ritual wounds on him are a curse mark left by the dismembered arm, and finding the rest of its body would inevitably put the arm to rest and cleanse him of the curse. There is no plausible way for Jiang Xichen to convince Lan Wanyin otherwise, not without revealing the truth behind the ritual and his identity.
"Wanyin-ge?"
Lan Wanyin gives a long exhale. “Dismemberment is a gruesome way to kill. We cannot allow such a vicious murderer get away scot-free. After we gather the body parts, we still have to find out who killed him.”
Jiang Xichen blinks. He did not expect that response at all. He had expected Lan Wanyin to brush him off, or simply ignore him, but an indirect invitation? Lan Wanyin is really taking him by surprise nowadays.
“Oh? Does that mean that you’d like to night-hunt more together?” Jiang Xichen brightens up, unable to tone down the beaming smile that spreads across his face. He can’t help it, can’t help how warm and happy he feels after hearing what Lan Wanyin said to him. The emotions bubble up inside of him, making Jiang Xichen lightheaded with the sheer amount of joy. “I’m so honoured that the Second Jade of Lan fancies travelling with me this much.”
Lan Wanyin averts his gaze. “Ridiculous.”
“You say that but your face is getting red, Wanyin-ge!”
“If you have time to tease your seniors, then get to work.”
With a better mood, Jiang Xichen gives Lan Wanyin another smile as a signal that it is time to push the lid off. Lan Wanyin returns the smile with a curt nod.
It takes them three tries before they finally manage to move the lid, and they both immediately take a step back when it shifts off the coffin, bracing themselves for hidden traps such as flying arrows or poisonous fumes, but instead, there is nothing.
The coffin is completely empty.
There isn't even a body in it.
Jiang Xichen raises a brow. "An empty casket? Xinglu Ridge is getting more and more interesting."
"It's not empty," Lan Wanyin corrects him and holds out Sandu above it. The cold light pouring from the blade shines into the bottom of the coffin, where it strikes something and glints off of it.
Jiang Xichen blinks. "A sword?"
Indeed, there is a long sword inside the coffin.
At first glance, it appears to be an average high quality spiritual sword, but a closer look quickly reveals that its craftsmanship is nothing akin to the swords made in the current era.
For starters, the sword has no sheath. The blade is frighteningly slender, long and angled, tapering off to a vicious point. The hilt is seemingly casted entirely from gold, and under the dim light from Sandu, reflects the hue of red from the crimson cloth it is resting on, exuding a chilling air of destruction with its bloody shade of scarlet.
"This is the sword of the founder of Qinghe Nie Sect." Lan Wanyin adds when he notes Jiang Xichen's look of confusion. "There were books about this in the Library Pavilion at Cloud Recesses. Their sabres used to be thin and lethal, aimed to sever the ligaments between joints with deadly accuracy, but as their cultivation method slowly diverged from their progenitor's idea of butchering, the Sect also changed the way they forged their blades."
And similar to the theory Lan Wanyin proposes, the other sabres they find in the neighbouring rooms all have slightly differing shapes. While their edges remain polished and thin, the widths of the swords steadily grow wider and straighter, with the later generations very obviously prioritizing strength instead of speed and accuracy.
In fact, the smoother the texture of the coffin appeared to be, the closer the sword in it resembled the modern sabres of the Nie Sect—so much so that a foreboding feeling settles in Jiang Xichen's chest when he spots a second coffin pushed against the wall in the last room.
There shouldn’t be another coffin. The current Sect Leader—Nie Mingjue—is still alive, right?
Even if the Nie Sect Leaders usually die early and unexpectedly from a qi deviation; even if it is something as morbid as the Nie Sect getting prepared in advance for the inevitable…
Jiang Xichen narrows his eyes.
There is something that is different about this particular coffin. Jiang Xichen doesn't know what makes him feel this way, but it is a feeling that he is unable to shake off. There is something that draws him to it, and something else that seemingly repels him away with an equal intensity, telling him to run.
A mounting sense of uneasiness settles at the pit of Jiang Xichen’s stomach, and it increases exponentially as he approaches the coffin. One, two, three, four—the qiankun pouch twitches visibly with every step he takes.
Jiang Xichen swallows thickly before he presses both palms against the edge of the lid, bracing himself for the inevitable. He had heard the whispers accompanying resentment energy countless times before after all, both in his first life and ever since he came back; but nothing can ever prepare him for the chorus of screams that immediately flood into his head like a tidal wave.
It starts with a raspy male voice, its lilt and tone strangely familiar as it chants the word ‘kill’ over and over again. Then, slowly, many other voices start joining in as well, as if they were all merely silently watching and monitoring the duo as they made their way through all the previous rooms, and only start becoming agitated when the man with the raspy voice starts speaking.
Unable to endure the increasing volumes any longer, Jiang Xichen scrunches his brows together and presses his right forefinger against his temple.
“Are you alright?” Lan Wanyin questions, completely unperturbed by the noises, because he is unable to hear them. To Lan Wanyin, there is only dead silence inside the stone castle, and Jiang Xichen’s actions make completely no sense.
Jiang Xichen understands this, and forces a reassuring smile on. “I’m fine. Let’s get this over and done with. After we recover the body part, let’s go for a round of celebratory food and drinks!”
“Is drinking all that you know?”
“It’s one of the few enjoyments in life,” Jiang Xichen jabs back playfully, and heaves as they start pushing in unison. With every shift of the lid, a little more of the dense resentment energy leaks out from within, arousing the demonic arm.
The qiankun pouch tied to Jiang Xichen’s waist belt twitches, becoming increasingly restless, as if it is trying to break free from Lan Wanyin's seal and the lingering effects of Rest.
It is only when the entire lid comes off that Jiang Xichen notices with a start why this particular coffin had felt so different to him.
The sabre placed at the bottom of it is pitch-black, covered by a thick curtain of resentment energy that clings vehemently to the surface of the blade, but even so, there is something strangely familiar about the weapon—the size, shape, hilt. It is a sword that Jiang Xichen had seen up close on many occasions, a sword that belongs to one of the heroes of the Sunshot Campaign, a sword that belongs to Nie Mingjue.
“Baxia.”
As if it recognizes its name, the sabre starts shaking in response, levitating out of the coffin. The vast amount of resentment energy in it seeps out, forming tendrils that shoot towards Jiang Xichen. It twists around his wrists within the span of a blink of an eye, snaking up his arms and digging deep into his flesh. It doesn’t draw blood, but it restrains him, trapping Jiang Xichen where he stands and cuts off the flow of blood to his fingers, turning them numb and white from cold.
The dark energy drapes itself over Jiang Xichen like a cloak, wrapping around the length of his body as it sinks into him, as if drawn into his body by some invisible force. It is reminiscent of the situation with the old man at the burial grounds of Dafan Mountain, but Jiang Xichen doesn’t have the time or energy to expend on thinking right now, because it is so, so terribly cold, and there is a sharp pain building in his chest.
The resentment energy from Baxia trickles into the cracks on the surface of his core—slowly at first, then speeds up, gushing into the fragile orb. Jiang Xichen feels every single resulting fracture and splinter, magnified by the throbbing pain that compounds deep under his ribs, sending waves of cold, aching numbness down to his extremities.
His core is cracking, Jiang Xichen realises half a moment later. He is going to lose his core again.
Jiang Xichen grimaces, struggling futilely as the taste of blood rises to his throat. The series of sensations brings him back to his time at Lotus Pier, where the Core-Melting Hand Wen Zhuliu had melted his core. It is horrifyingly similar, but the core melting had only taken a split second—a sharp pain that only lasted a short moment and left nothing but anguish in its wake—but this time round, it is drawn out into an extended period of long suffering.
“Kill! Kill kill kill kill kill! Kill him!”
The distorted chorus of curses echoes in Jiang Xichen’s head, making it pound uncontrollably. Briefly, Jiang Xichen thinks he hears the sound of a qin playing, but unlike the time at Baixue Temple, it does not dispel the bubble of resentment energy around him. Instead, it seemingly makes it stronger, making it coil tighter around Jiang Xichen’s body.
“Kill that son of a prostitute!”
There is a flash of a sword glare right before Jiang Xichen’s face and he cracks a bleary eye open to see the profile of Lan Wanyin, his steel blue eyes narrowed in concentration as he pours a vast expanse of spiritual energy into Sandu. The blade turns nearly completely white before Lan Wanyin spins in midair and swings it down upon the flat top of Baxia.
The air around the two clashing spiritual weapons buzzes, releasing a line of sparks as they collide. Lan Wanyin bears down on Baxia with pure strength, his arm muscles rippling with exertion. Sandu emerges victorious in the display of power, and the spiritual energy from it cuts cleanly through the tendrils and rips them away from Jiang Xichen.
The dark bubble wrapped around and trapping Jiang Xichen bursts, exploding outwards. The resulting blast repels both Jiang Xichen and Lan Wanyin away, sending them flying backwards and crashing into a cold stone wall.
Jiang Xichen collapses face down, choking up another mouthful of blood, his vision steadily growing hazy. He spots Lan Wanyin a distance away from him, slumped over and unconscious.
The qiankun pouch containing the dismembered demonic arm lies on the ground right beside Jiang Xichen, quite possibly having come loose during their scuffle earlier. And as Jiang Xichen watches, it spasms, jerking and convulsing as it makes small, minute shifts towards the coffin.
Jiang Xichen parts his lips, but he could only utter a muffled groan. He is groggy, his body weak, limbs pathetically senseless; yet he struggles to reach out still, and barely manages to drape a hand over the pouch just before the darkness completely swallows his consciousness.
The last thing Jiang Xichen hears is the dull thud of metal against wood as Baxia falls right back down into its coffin.
Notes:
1. Since modern day Qinghe is said to be in the Hebei region, I have googled for some famous dishes from the region and used some of the results. This is definitely not 100% accurate to the dynasty MDZS is set in… but then again, it’s not confirmed exactly which dynasty it is.
Jin mao shi zi yu: Lion-shaped Fish (金毛狮子鱼) is a carp that's cut diagonally and fried. The resulting fish has a unique shape of a lion’s head and mane, hence the name.
Bai long guo jiang: White Dragon Crossing the River (白龙过江) is also a carp dish, but is stewed with scallops in broth instead. Before the dish is served, an egg white paste is poured onto it, giving it a white appearance that lives up to the “white dragon” in its name.
Li zi hong shao rou: Braised Chestnuts and Pork in Soy Sauce (栗子红烧肉) is as the name suggests.
Xiang xian sheng dou fu: Mr. Xiang Beancurd (相先生豆腐). In ancient China, a wealthy official by the surname of Xiang was very fond of this dish, and this dish is named after him. For this dish, cut the beancurd into pieces and cry the slices with onions, ginger, garlic and spicy sauce. Back
2. A term to call waiters Back
3. Mei hua san nong (梅花三弄) is a song that is inspired by the sight of dancing plum blossom petals. It is said to be first composed for the dizi or xiao but the only ‘original’ version that is still passed down is the guqin one. It’s actually one of my favorite pieces to play on the guqin! Back
4. Just a point to note! There’s actually a chinese idiom that has a similar meaning: 无风不起浪 without wind there cannot be waves—which means that there must be a reason behind something happening. I deliberated if I should use the english or chinese version, but went with the former in the end. Back
***
Jiang Xichen and Song Hengyi.
These are two people that probably have nothing in common, and Lan Wanyin finds it preposterous for him to even entertain the thoughts of them being the same person.
Song Hengyi is a lot more casual and carefree than Jiang Xichen had ever been—even in their teenage days long before Jiang Xichen became the Yiling Patriarch. There is a sense of freedom about the younger man that he had never felt from Jiang Xichen.
Jiang Xichen was crowned as the Jiang Sect Heir from young, and even with how lively and easy-going the other man appeared to be, Lan Wanyin knows that there were many things that Jiang Xichen could never partake in for the sake of decorum.
On the other hand, Song Hengyi doesn’t have that same restriction. Even clad in bandages and penniless, Song Hengyi is still always smiling, always looking as if he is having fun.
And perhaps, that was what Jiang Xichen wanted once upon a time too.
Lan Wanyin remembers Jiang Xichen telling him about his dream back in the Xuanwu cave, the dream of being a commoner living in a remote area with no territorial wars and no Sect duties. He hadn’t understood it back then, and probably still doesn't understand it fully even now, but Lan Wanyin thinks that it’s probably someone like this Song Hengyi that Jiang Xichen wanted to become.
“Who do you hope that I am?”
Who, indeed? Of course it’s...
But it isn’t possible. There’s no known method that can make this happen.
Lan Wanyin knows that. He understands it, but that doesn’t stop him from overlapping the image of Song Hengyi drinking, with his memory of Jiang Xichen holding up jars of Emperor’s Smile atop the wall of Cloud Recesses.
Maybe it’s the memories, or maybe it’s the alcohol, but Lan Wanyin’s chest clenches almost uncomfortably as he spots the waiter leaning in too close to Song Hengyi. The ugly head of jealousy rears itself in him before Lan Wanyin can fully curb it, and he finds himself lashing out before he can stop himself.
“I said, get the fuck away from him!”
Chapter 10: Redemption II
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
<PRESENT>
Jiang Xichen wakes with a pounding headache, an incessant ringing in his left ear and a deep ache in his chest.
It takes him a full minute to regain his bearings, and when he does, Jiang Xichen immediately snaps his eyes open.
The first thing in his line of sight is the qiankun pouch, the weight of his hand holding it down. Unlike what he remembers before losing his consciousness, the dismembered arm is no longer twitching wildly. Baxia too, lies unmoving at the bottom of its coffin, and poses no threat to them at the moment.
Yet, an inexplicable feeling of dread still remains in the pit of Jiang Xichen’s stomach. He tightens his grip around the white pouch before slowly pushing himself up to his elbows. His mind is still hazy, and it only catches up to him a short moment later that he can see.
But he should not be able to. There shouldn’t be any light sources.
Their journey into the stone castle thus far had been completely dark, relying solely on Lan Wanyin's spiritual energy and Sandu's glow for visibility and navigation. But strangely, there is a line of wall torches that are lighted now, their flickering orange glow casting long and distorted shadows ominously across the hall.
Jiang Xichen follows the trail of light and notices a lump of white slumped against the crumbled wall, with a pile of stones all around him and a smattering of dark dirt against the curve of his back.
Wanyin.
Jiang Xichen stumbles to his feet and hastily approaches the unconscious man with a series of unsteady steps.
“Wanyin-ge?” Jiang Xichen calls as he kneels on one knee, reaching out to Lan Wanyin and shakes his shoulder lightly. Lan Wanyin does not respond, but instead slouches limply forward into Jiang Xichen's arms.
"Wanyin!" Jiang Xichen supports Lan Wanyin with an arm around his shoulders and slowly lowers the latter's upper body to the ground. The change in position causes Lan Wanyin’s robes to shift, revealing a tear along the side of his trousers and an area of shadow under it.
Jiang Xichen blinks, pausing for a moment before he tugs the hem of Lan Wanyin’s trousers free from his boot and gingerly rolls it up.
There’s a curse mark spanning the entire length of Lan Wanyin’s lower leg—a dark bruise that is still gradually stretching upwards.
Jiang Xichen’s facial expression grows grim. He had never seen a curse mark of this size and shade.
A curse mark is made by an evil being on its prey, often because the person has offended an entity of extreme malice, and Jiang Xichen can only think of one thing that could have done this—Baxia, when Lan Wanyin was trying to save him earlier.
“Nie Mingjue,” Jiang Xichen seethes, the edge of his voice sharp and cold when none of the textbook solutions he tried managed to make the curse mark fade. “On the account that we were once friends that fought back to back in the Sunshot Campaign, let Wanyin go.”
Nothing but silence answers him.
“What do you want from me, Nie Mingjue?!” Jiang Xichen lashes out, whipping his head around to glare in the direction of Baxia.
As if in response to Jiang Xichen’s question, several tiles at the spot where Lan Wanyin was resting against previously, falls, uncovering a thick layer of packed dirt and an ashen grey part that is protruding at an angle.
Jiang Xichen's stomach flips. He recognizes it instantly. He had seen something similar more than enough times back on the Burial Mounds.
It is the bone of a human arm.
The rest of the skeleton is contorted at a weird angle, appearing as if it is squatting down, and right beside it is a piece of yellowing bone.
With bated breath, Jiang Xichen follows the length of the tibia, and skilfully pries away several loose bricks to the side to uncover a decomposing corpse buried in a standing position.
There are still traces of flesh left on the bones and long, messy hair stuck to the skull. From the ragged clothing in the shade of a dull fading red clad around its wide hips, Jiang Xichen can easily discern that this is a woman.
And the reason why he could hear soft murmurs in the wall when he pressed his palm against it earlier dawns on him now, bright as day.
The stone castle’s walls are packed full of human corpses.
Just what on earth is this place?
Jiang Xichen narrows his eyes, reaching out to remove the next few stone blocks. Intuition tells him that this must be where the rest of the dismembered arm’s corpse is—the best place to hide a tree is in the forest after all. So Jiang Xichen pushes on fervently, digging through layers of coal-black dirt.
He unearths a third skeleton.
The overpowering scent of death fills the hall then, pungent and acrid. The flames flicker once, twice, before the briefest hint of a whisper starts up along with the third time.
Jiang Xichen notices the shift in the air.
He takes several cautious steps backwards, moving away from the wall to the other cultivator's side.
There is something terribly wrong with this place.
Every moment that Lan Wanyin remains in here simply puts him in more danger. There is no way of telling how many more corpses there are in the walls. If the resentment energy inside were to gush out like with Baxia earlier…
Jiang Xichen shudders. There is no way he would be able to protect an unconscious Lan Wanyin. He has to get him out of here, get him away from Baxia, before coming back alone to investigate further.
Jiang Xichen picks up Sandu and swiftly scoops the unconscious Lan Wanyin up into his arms, striding quickly towards the entrance.
His ritual wounds strain from the exertion, and the weight of Lan Wanyin pressed against his body is nostalgic, but Jiang Xichen refuses to pay them any additional mind as he ducks through the makeshift entrance they had made earlier, and sets the other man gently down on a soft patch of grass.
He has no idea how much time has passed when they were unconscious, but it is now long after twilight and the lucent moon above them is akin to a crystal, hanging low and full just above the canopy of the forest tree line. Moonlight spills from the hands of the night sky, cutting through the speckled darkness to splash a watery silver glow down onto them.
Jiang Xichen instinctively reaches out to Lan Wanyin then, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear before cupping his cheek. It has been a long time since he had seen the latter’s peaceful sleeping face, and Jiang Xichen takes a moment just to stare at it silently before pulling away.
The mild twitches of the dismembered arm have only gotten stronger ever since Jiang Xichen left the premises, as if beckoning him to return.
He has to anyway, because he will never leave Lan Wanyin with that curse mark to bear. Jiang Xichen rises to his feet and secures the qiankun pouch back onto his waist belt before turning away, only to feel a sharp tug on the end of his sleeve.
Lan Wanyin is still unconscious, his eyes shut and breathing even, but his fingers are tightly wound around the dark fabric. “Don’t leave.”
Jiang Xichen’s breath hitches. The two words are simple, but they cut into him like a hot knife, tearing its way to his trembling heart with gruelling waves of never-ending guilt that leaves him breathless.
“Wanyin,” Jiang Xichen mutters with great difficulty, falling to his knees before Lan Wanyin and reaching out to gather him into his arms.
“... ge, don’t leave me again.”
Jiang Xichen’s arms still. The insatiable fire burning deep in his chest turns cold—turns into an ugly cage of frigid jealousy that encases his heart, that threatens to devour him whole, that urges him to lie to himself, to pretend that this is about him.
Just for once, just this once.
But he can’t.
Jiang Xichen encircles his arms around Lan Wanyin and pulls him closer. There is the familiar light floral scent of lotus coming from Lan Wanyin and Jiang Xichen basks in it, tightening his embrace momentarily. “It’s okay, Wei-ge will never leave you.”
Wei Wuxian isn’t like him after all. Flippant as he is, the man will never willingly choose to harm someone he loves and cares for.
“He… I will never leave you.”
Lan Wanyin releases his hold on the end of Jiang Xichen’s sleeve, hand falling limply to his side as his head lolls forward to rest against Jiang Xichen’s chest.
Jiang Xichen notices the lavender jade lotus hairpin and traces his eyes over the light and shadows on it, following the gleam of light down to the tails of Lan Wanyin’s forehead ribbon, lying limp against his back.
There is the blemish right at the end of it, a hole the size of an arrowhead—and it brings a series of memories flooding back into his mind.
“Mine,” Jiang Xichen whispers then, to no one in particular, but only the monotonous echo of heartache remains in the tone of the word that once held the promise of love and adoration.
<FLASHBACK>
Several months after the Jiang Xichen was sent back to Lotus Pier by Lan Qiren, the Wen Sect made a sudden announcement that they will be holding a grand Discussion Conference at Qishan.
Despite being impromptu, the Discussion Conference is set to last an entire week. There is a different entertainment line-up for each of the seven days, and one of them is an activity that Jiang Xichen is waiting for with great anticipation—an archery competition.
All the junior disciples under the age of twenty in the Five Great Sects are required to participate. They are all supposed to gather at the hunting grounds within the next hour, and the Wen Sect has fenced off every other route to it except for a long detour through a mountainous area and a much shorter path where that cuts through the Wen Sect’s archery training grounds.
It is probably just the Wen Sect trying to use the chance to show off their prowess in archery. However, to Jiang Xichen and Wei Wuxian who are skilled archers from Yunmeng Jiang, it is obvious that none of the Wen disciples they have seen are anywhere near proficient with a bow.
Unwilling to partake in such ostentatious and superficial bragging, the two of them choose to take the detour instead, so they would not have to meet anyone from the Wen Sect. But as luck would have it, they chance upon a timid Wen junior disciple practicing.
Wen Qionglin's drawing posture is beautiful. It is standard, without any added personal flair to it, but it is obvious from a single glance that the boy has honed it close to perfection, and the results show for it.
There are already many feathered arrows that thickly dot the red center on the target, and as Jiang Xichen watches, Wen Qionglin releases another arrow that whizzes past them and hits the bullseye.
Wei Wuxian claps his hands together, his eyes twinkling in excitement. “Bravo! Your shots are amazing! I haven’t seen anyone from your Sect with such good…”
The boy tosses his bow down and takes off in the opposite direction.
"Huh? Why is he running away?" Wei Wuxian turns to Jiang Xichen. "Am I that charming? Am I really that charming?"
"I think the word that you're looking for is 'scary'."
"Friendly," Wei Wuxian corrects, and chases after Wen Qionglin, barging into the area where the Wens are busy picking out archers for the competition. “Go on first without me, Ge!”
Jiang Xichen shakes his head in response, eyes glinting with mirth as he watches Wei Wuxian go. No matter how old they get, Wei Wuxian is always still so impulsive and free-spirited—and this is exactly what he wants and needs to protect as the Sect heir.
Jiang Xichen turns back to the front and freezes momentarily, meeting the cool gaze of familiar stormy grey eyes staring back at him. The unexpected proximity between them stuns Jiang Xichen and he instinctually takes a step back in surprise, heart rate quickening.
"Wanyin," Jiang Xichen greets, a smile automatically tilting his lips up. “Fancy meeting you here. Are you taking the detour too?”
Lan Wanyin is not in his usual Gusu Lan robes. Instead, he is wearing the uniform attire of all of the juniors in the Qishan Discussion Conference: a red round-collar robe with arrow sleeves and a belt of nine golden rings.1
The colour scheme looks exceptionally good on Lan Wanyin, especially when coupled with his hairstyle for this special occasion—a high ponytail.
The ensemble brings out the blue hue in his eyes, accentuates his exceptional features and adds another dash of elegance to his actions.
"Jiang Xichen," Lan Wanyin returns the greeting with a bow. "I have something to tell you after the competition. If you would stay."
Jiang Xichen blinks twice, his throat oddly dry. "Of course. I'll wait."
Looking as if he is pleased with Jiang Xichen's answer, Lan Wanyin gives him a curt nod before turning stiffly to leave, a flash of white stark against his swishing ponytail.
Jiang Xichen reaches out, his fingertips skimming the ends of Lan Wanyin's forehead ribbon. They have not met at all since Jiang Xichen was sent back to Lotus Pier, and there are many things he wants to ask the other man—about his seclusion and whether Lan Wanyin missed him—but he withdraws his hand and chooses to remain silent instead.
Lan Wanyin does not wait for him, continuing to plod ahead without looking back, and Jiang Xichen trails behind him, a light hint of pink high on the tips of his ears and the feeling of fabric fresh on his fingers.
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
The signal horn blares, and the Five Sects gather before the entrance to the hunting grounds, the representatives from each sect saluting their Sect Leader before entering.
Lan Wanyin had left to join his Sect the moment they arrived, and Jiang Xichen heads towards the area designated for Yunmeng Jiang upon hearing the horn.
He leaves an empty space for Wei Wuxian and as expected, the man manages to slip in behind him just in the nick of time. They share a knowing look and grin before bowing to Jiang Fengmian and leading the other disciples into the hunting grounds after the Wen, Jin and Nie Sects.
The rules of the competition are simple.
There are more than a thousand paper mannequin targets set up. However, only a hundred of them are possessed by fierce spirits, and the participants would have to shoot these down.
A successful shot would send up a flare with their respective sect's emblem for the tallying of points while any other shot that misses or hits an unpossessed paperman would result in an instant disqualification of the archer.
It is a test of skill and accuracy, both of which Jiang Xichen and Wei Wuxian believe they possess as capable archers of the Yunmeng Jiang Sect.
For them, this hunt is as much of a group event as it is an individual one.
Wei Wuxian is focused on winning this time round, focused on beating his shixiong once and for all. And despite Jiang Xichen not being remotely interested in going all out to win, he pretends to be, in order to get Wei Wuxian off his back.
They part ways at the entrance and Jiang Xichen gleefully stalks off alone, moving slowly through the hunting grounds. There is someone he is searching for and Jiang Xichen takes his time with it, shooting down several possessed paper mannequins along the way to rake points for Yunmeng Jiang until he finally spots him—Lan Wanyin, releasing an arrow that whizzes through the air and hits the target head-on, piercing through the paper mannequin easily.
A flare shoots up into the sky, erupting in the familiar blue of Gusu Lan.
Jiang Xichen claps, the sound startling Lan Wanyin, and the younger man whirls around, eyes narrowing in suspicion at the sight of Jiang Xichen's cheerful smile.
"Your archery skills have certainly improved," Jiang Xichen compliments. He does not know what was up with his racing pulse when he ran into Lan Wanyin earlier but Jiang Xichen knows that he is all fine now. That weird sense of nervousness that had gripped him earlier has completely ebbed and all that is left is that usual tempting urge he has to tease Lan Wanyin. "Could it be because you had a great teacher several months ago at the Cloud Recesses?"
Lan Wanyin scoffs in response, rolling his eyes.
Jiang Xichen doesn't give up. Instead, he rounds to the front of Lan Wanyin, intercepting his path. "Say, how about a small competition between us? There are five papermen here, three are real and two are decoys. The one who manages to get all three first wins."
"Why would I? This is a competition between sects, not individuals."
"Hm? Don't tell me that you are scared of losing?"
Lan Wanyin lips thin in irritation, and Jiang Xichen swoons a little internally. He missed seeing the angry pouty look on Lan Wanyin a little too much.
"Alright, alright, I'll add in this condition specially for my dearest Lan er-gongzi. If you win, I will do one thing that you ask," Jiang Xichen offers, and he spots the exact moment Lan Wanyin takes the bait—hook, line and sinker.
"Anything at all?"
"Absolutely, no questions asked."
Lan Wanyin gives in at that, right hand tightening around his bow. "Fine."
Jiang Xichen smirks.
The rules of their little duel seem perfectly simple on the surface, but it is actually anything but, because it is painstakingly obvious from the very first glance that Jiang Xichen has the upper hand.
He has more skill and experience with moving targets, and it is evident with how he manages to easily shoot down everything that Lan Wanyin is aiming for just seconds before the latter even releases his arrow—once, twice... and Lan Wanyin grits his teeth in frustration, and glares darkly down at Jiang Xichen.
The last target is equidistant between them.
"Jiang Xichen," Lan Wanyin seethes, his brows pulling into a frown. "You are doing this on purpose, aren't you?"
"I'm not," Jiang Xichen answers smoothly, his eyes twinkling in amusement when he notices Lan Wanyin's hands trembling in anger.
Could this be what they mean by guys loving to bully the people they like? Jiang Xichen barely manages to hold back his laughter when the sudden thought fills his mind.
Unfortunately for him, Lan Wanyin simply assumes that Jiang Xichen is laughing at him, and he snaps.
"Fine, just shoot whatever you want then!"
After saying that, Lan Wanyin leaps off the higher ground and twists in mid-air, using the rotation to widen his reach as he draws his bow in the same moment. He pulls the bowstring taut, holding it steady as he casts away all distracting thoughts, just like how Jiang Xichen had instructed him to, back in Cloud Recesses all those months ago.
And that is precisely why Lan Wanyin doesn't notice the way Jiang Xichen's eyes widen fractionally as the latter takes in the sight of him.
Lan Wanyin remains focused solely on the target, his steel blue eyes alert and glinting as his ponytail swishes to the side behind him. The ends of his forehead ribbon forms a wide arc from his motion, and Lan Wanyin holds the pose for a moment, keeping his bow at full draw, before releasing the notched arrow without any of his previous hesitation.
It speeds forward, piercing cleanly through the head of the paperman with a vicious tenacity. The ferocious ghoul possessing it disintegrates, and Lan Wanyin's lips lift in the barest hint of a satisfied smile that slips when he hears the sharp snap of a bow string.
Jiang Xichen's arrow tears through the air, racing straight towards Lan Wanyin with a purpose.
It is not to subdue the ghoul which he knows with certainty Lan Wanyin would hit—but instead, to stake a claim, to make a point, to challenge.
And he hits his target right on the mark, the arrow snagging one of the ends of Lan Wanyin's forehead ribbon fluttering in mid-air.
Lan Wanyin freezes, lips parting in a silent gasp as he finally realises what Jiang Xichen's intentions are. However, it only dawns on him a second too late, and with a swoosh of wind, Jiang Xichen's arrow pulls the ribbon cleanly off of Lan Wanyin.
Mine.
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
He messed up. He totally and completely messed up.
Jiang Xichen buries his face into his hand and groans in agony. He has been out here since his disqualification for missing a shot, and the more he thinks about what he had done, the more he wants to punch himself in the face.
Don't get him wrong, it is certainly not because he regrets it, but rather because he didn't intend to tease Lan Wanyin to that extent.
He allowed his feelings to get the better of him, allowed himself to lose control momentarily and... It was an obvious lapse in his judgement, and the resulting look on Lan Wanyin's face after that sends chills up his spine. He had… He had never seen the other man that furious before.
Jiang Xichen groans again.
"Ge!" Wei Wuxian calls cheerily as he runs over to Jiang Xichen, waving. "I got second place!"
"Wei Wuxian," Jiang Xichen greets, rapidly rising to his feet. "Have you seen Wanyin?"
"That's the first thing you say to me after I finally beat you in a competition?" Wei Wuxian jests without any real bite to his words, but trails off when he notices Jiang Xichen's expression. "Well, I haven't seen Lan-xiong around ever since he withdrew from the competition, but if it's Lan Zhan, he's..."
"Lan Wangji?" Jiang Xichen perks up, grabbing Wei Wuxian's shoulders. Surely Lan Wangji would know Wanyin's whereabouts. "Where is he?"
Wei Wuxian's smile grows a little forced as he points a finger behind Jiang Xichen. "Um, r-right there?"
Jiang Xichen releases Wei Wuxian and turns towards the general direction he is pointing to, only to meet a golden, scathing glare.
Lan Wangji grabs the front of Jiang Xichen's robes, crinkling them as he yanks the latter forward so he can cast a withering look directly into Jiang Xichen's eyes.
"Pathetic."
The congratulatory cheers all around the hunting grounds halt instantly, and it's together with the thundering silence that Lan Wangji releases his hold on the front of Jiang Xichen's robes, and gives him a rough shove backwards for good measure.
Jiang Xichen stumbles, and nearly falls over if not for Wei Wuxian's timely support.
"Lan Zhan, I don't know what happened but—"
"Do not go near my brother again," Lan Wangji scorns, turning away with a flick of his sleeve. "You do not deserve him."
<PRESENT>
Lan Wangji's words from the short, reminiscent memory echoes in his mind. Jiang Xichen would have disagreed with them once upon a time, but he cannot bring himself to now—not after the Yiling Patriarch fiasco, and definitely not after he sees the way Lan Wanyin's brows are currently scrunched up in pain from the curse mark.
There is a groan of pain from Lan Wanyin, and Jiang Xichen pulls away immediately, setting the unconscious man back against the exterior of the stone wall and withdrawing his hands.
Jiang Xichen had already tried all the conceivable methods he had in mind to remove the curse mark earlier, but none of them worked. The best solution he has is to venture back into the stone castle again to investigate the walls but Jiang Xichen can’t bring himself to do so at this very moment, not when Lan Wanyin had specifically requested for him not to leave.
“I never wanted to hurt you,” Jiang Xichen whispers then, a silent confession that is lost in the gentle rustling of leaves and the passage of time.
These are the words he had always wanted to tell Lan Wanyin, and they are akin to the tip of an iceberg, an opening statement, a prelude to something lengthy and heart-wrenching—but as always, Jiang Xichen doesn’t complete his sentence.
To him, there is nothing left to say between them. Everything he had done and experienced was a lifetime ago.
The cultivation world had moved forward in these seven years without him. During these seven long years, the Yiling Patriarch had become a rumour, a hearsay, an urban legend. It is the spirit of him that should stay and haunt people in their memories, and not his person.
Another groan of pain from Lan Wanyin helps Jiang Xichen come to a decision.
He rolls up the bottom of Lan Wanyin’s trousers and presses the flat of his palm to the dark patch. He planned on leaving this unconventional solution as his last resort, but Jiang Xichen decides that now is as good of a time as ever.
He will transfer the curse mark on Lan Wanyin to his own body.
A high-pitched shriek comes from the bushes beside them the exact moment Jiang Xichen finishes the transfer.
He cranes his head up to see a young man yelling at him while hiding behind a decorated paper fan, pointing an accusing finger at Jiang Xichen’s nose, then down to Lan Wanyin’s bare lower leg, then up to Jiang Xichen’s face again.
“T-T-This… W-What are you doing?!”
Jiang Xichen tugs the hem of Lan Wanyin’s trousers back down in a single swift motion.
Nie Huaisang’s fan slips from his hand and falls onto the ground.
“Y-Y-Y-Y-You-!” Nie Huaisang stutters, pacing restlessly around a bush for twenty-odd times. Even after so many years, his ex-classmate hasn’t changed much. He still looks similar to how he did back then, and even his demeanour remains equally as nervous and skittish. “I didn’t see anything! I didn’t hear anything! I don’t know anything!”
“You misunderstand. Lan er-gongzi here is my travelling companion. We are headed for the same night-hunt and were exploring this area when he got injured.” Jiang Xichen gestures to the stone castle behind him. “I was merely checking his injuries.”
Nie Huaisang tries to keep his composure, but he does not have his trustworthy fan to hide his face behind at the moment, and the nuances in his expression are as clear as day to Jiang Xichen’s keen eye.
“Then… Then did you find anything a-abnormal in there?”
“There wasn’t anything much, just a couple of sabres in coffins."
Nie Huaisang's shoulders sag in relief. Jiang Xichen smirks.
"And several corpses in the walls.”
Jiang Xichen spots the exact moment Nie Huaisang’s composure cracks. He blanches, his face turning nearly as pale as snow, before attempting to make a dash for it. Jiang Xichen reacts before he can stop himself, picking up a small pebble-sized debris beside him and sending it flying out at Nie Huaisang. It hits him right in the middle of his back.
Nie Huaisang falls flat on his face.
“Aiyooooo! My foot is broken! My arm is broken!”
Lan Wanyin stirs.
“Shut up. What if you wake Lan er-gongzi?”
“And what’s wrong with that? Then I can tell him that his travelling companion is a wolf in sheep's clothing. An indecent person who'd flip his friend's trousers up when he is knocked out and… W-Wait, why are you coming over? I don’t swing that way?! B-Be gentle, I’m fragile! Lan-xiong! Save me!”
At that very point in time, Nie Huaisang seriously thought that waking Lan Wanyin up was his best and only resort left, and he gave his all in yelling at the top of his lungs. However, it is only after succeeding, that he realises it is the worst decision he ever made in his entire life.
A rudely woken Lan Wanyin is the crankiest person ever, and he ruthlessly blocks Nie Huaisang's acupoints, restraining the latter's movements before even giving him a chance to explain himself.
“I don’t know! I just happened to pass by. I really don’t know anything!” Nie Huaisang stammers, struggling futilely. He looks quite pitiable like this, completely frazzled and tired, with dried leaves in his hair and tracks of dirt in his attire.
Jiang Xichen circles around the struggling man slowly, punctuating each step he takes with the slap of the paper fan’s bamboo guard against his palm. “Sect Leader Nie, Qinghe is under the jurisdiction of the Nie Sect. How is it possible that you don’t know anything?”
“Aiya! B-But I… I really don’t know… L-Lan-xiong! You must believe me! Don’t you know all the sacrifices I just made to protect your chasti—”
“Hey, don’t try to distract us with irrelevant statements!" Jiang Xichen hurriedly interjects, brandishing the paper fan in his hand at the other man. "Since Sect Leader Nie insists that he doesn’t know, I’ll start talking first. Maybe along the way, you will figure out that you do know some things after all.”
Nie Huaisang opens and closes his mouth several times, unable to provide a suitable response.
Jiang Xichen smirks.
“There are three lines of defense on this Xinglu Ridge—the rumours of the Man-Eating Ridge, the walking corpses and the maze array. The first two are to keep normal people away, and the third is to ward off the average cultivators. These three defence measures exist to hide the existence of this stone castle away from the public eye.”
“A-And what has that got to do with me…?”
“That’s even easier to deduce, Sect Leader Nie. First of all, this is the Nie Sect’s area. Aside from the Nie Sect, there shouldn't be anybody else who would be capable of easily setting up these three obstacles here in Qinghe. Moreover, if those rumours were true, would you dare to come all the way out here to wander alone at night?"
It is a direct insult to Nie Huaisang's low level of cultivation and cowardice, but Jiang Xichen's points are all valid, leaving the other man with no grounds to rebuke.
"And there is something in there strong enough to cause this," Jiang Xichen says as he yanks up the leg of his own trousers, revealing a sliver of skin on his lower left leg.
Perhaps it is because of the inherent dark energy circulating in him, but the appearance of the Curse Mark is even darker on Jiang Xichen than it had been on Lan Wanyin.
Jiang Xichen takes a step forward then, towards Nie Huaisang who is cowering in fear and distress. "If Sect Leader Nie insists on harbouring and covering up for a malicious entity, I'm afraid we will have no choice but to bring this up with the rest of the cultivation world."
"Wait, anything but that! I'll talk, I'll talk!" Nie Huaisang sucks in several deep breaths. "That… That's just my Sect’s ancestral burial ground!”
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
"No, no no! Lan-xiong, Song-gongzi, listen to me!" Nie Huaisang trembles as he tightly grips his fan, his lower lip quivering after Lan Wanyin explained the situation to him in a concise manner. "I swear that the corpses our Saber Hall use are complete with all four limbs attached. It’s impossible for there to be some armless male corpse!"
"Sect Leader Nie, didn't you say that today is the day your Sect does its periodical check? Don't worry, we won't mess up the number of corpses. All you have to do after we leave is to rebuild the walls."
Nie Huaisang chokes. "The walls?! B-B-But—"
Jiang Xichen slings an arm around Nie Huaisang's shoulder. "Don't think so much about it, just treat the wall rebuilding like an intra-sect bonding activity."
Nie Huaisang chokes again. "Y-Y-You—"
Jiang Xichen shoots the flabbergasted Nie Huaisang a wide grin before moving his attention back to Lan Wanyin and the wall.
"Wanyin-ge, take two more steps to the right. Yes, right there, right there, give it your best shot!"
Lan Wanyin turns around to shoot Jiang Xichen the darkest look he could muster, but heeds his advice anyway, unsheathing Sandu.
The wall before them crumbles apart, and a huge wave of loose dirt cascades out from in between the two layers of stone, bringing with it a horrid smell of decay. They spot clumps of tangled and grimy hair on the surface, alongside several ashen hands and vein-laced feet poking out from within the hill of dirt. These corpses come in all shapes and sizes. Some of them are already skeletons, a handful are in the process of rotting, while the others are still quite fresh. However, every single one of them has a complete body.
“See?” Nie Huaisang squeaks, gesturing to the rows of corpses on the ground. “It’s just as I said!”
Jiang Xichen grimaces, holding a finger up to his chin. Could this mean that the arm doesn’t belong to a man? Or perhaps the owner has three arms?
Jiang Xichen chuckles at his own ridiculous thought. There is no need for him to ponder so deeply about this yet. They still have a trump card after all. Even if they are not able to identify the corpse by sight alone, they could certainly count on the left arm to identify the body on its own.
However, that comes with a risk. With the abundance of dark energy in this location, there is always a chance that the dismembered arm would either go berserk or possibly agitate and trigger a negative reaction from all these corpses that are still in their pre-transformation phase.
But then again, if push goes to shove, he and Lan Wanyin together would probably be more than enough to handle it anyway.
Jiang Xichen reaches down to the qiankun pouch dangling on his waist belt.
“Wait,” Lan Wanyin instructs as he steps forward.
Jiang Xichen raises a brow. “You have an idea?”
Lan Wanyin doesn’t answer, but instead, raises Sandu and lightly slices open the trousers on the row of corpses, revealing their skin underneath. “I found it.”
Jiang Xichen and Nie Huaisang rush over at once, peering down at the body Lan Wanyin is standing in front of. Indeed, there are two light circular stitch marks on both thighs of the corpse, with a faint difference between the colors of the skin above and below the stitches—a clear indication that the pair of legs was sewn on.
Jiang Xichen bursts out into a fit of laughter.
As the saying goes, the most dangerous place is the safest one. But to think that there would really be someone who would cut up Nie Mingjue’s body and go this far simply to smuggle a part of his corpse into the Nie Saber Hall.
Is this the work of someone who hates Nie Mingjue to the extent of scorning him and the Nie Sect, or is this merely a traitor's work?
Lan Wanyin separates the pair of legs with a swift cut from Sandu and stores them in a new qiankun pouch. “Who is the person that chooses the corpses for the Sabre Hall?”
Nie Huaisang replies blandly, his eyes glazed-over, as if he can’t believe what he had just witnessed. “Usually, the past sect leaders would choose and store the corpses for themselves when they were still alive. My brother passed away at an early age and did not have enough, so I helped him pick out a few more. I… I just kept whichever corpses were complete with all limbs. I really don’t know about anything other than this…”
Lan Wanyin turns away with an affirmative nod.
Both of them understand that it is impossible to glean anymore information as to who exactly sneaked that particular corpse inside. From the people who provided the corpses to the disciples of the Nie Sect, there are countless suspects. Besides, if Jiang Xichen wanted to probe more, he would have to reveal to Nie Huaisang that this dismembered corpse they were looking for is likely his elder brother’s.
And Jiang Xichen doesn’t have the heart to do that yet.
“Wanyin-ge, dawn is breaking soon. Let’s go.”
Lan Wanyin stares at Nie Huaisang silently for a long moment, appearing as if he wants to stay and say something to the other man. However, he chooses to turn away at the last moment and takes several long strides over to Jiang Xichen instead. “How’s your leg?”
Jiang Xichen folds his hands behind his head and stretches as they set off on the trail back down to the town. “Nothing much. It’s just a little tanner than usual.”
Lan Wanyin raises a brow, unamused.
Jiang Xichen snorts. “I’m serious. Don’t worry, it’s a lot better than it looks.”
He isn't lying, the Curse Mark is indeed a lot less painful than what he initially expected. Other than feeling as if there is a deadweight gripping his lower leg tightly, there are no other conceivable hindrances.
Lan Wanyin sighs, his tone bitter. “Everytime I am away, you wind up with more injuries.”
Jiang Xichen blinks twice, horrified by the underlying meaning to Lan Wanyin’s words. “Wait, are you seriously taking me for a damsel in distress? Let me tell you, I may just be a rogue cultivator but I was doing perfectly fine night-hunting alone before this!”
Lan Wanyin pauses in his tracks. He folds his arm across his chest and gives Jiang Xichen a once-over from head to toe. “With the sheer number of injuries you sustained recently? I find that very hard to believe.”
“Hey, just because we are friends, doesn’t mean that you can—”
“We are friends?” Lan Wanyin interrupts, tilting his head to the side inquisitively.
Jiang Xichen gasps, aghast.
Lan Wanyin averts his gaze then, glancing up at the sky that is slowly changing from navy to light hues of pinks and purples. The canopy of golden rays from the sun reflects off the verdant green vegetation, bringing with it a wave of warmth that makes Lan Wanyin’s cool gaze seem much softer than usual.
“There was someone who used to call me their friend too. He was the first one, and also the last one.”
Jiang Xichen feels a pang in his chest. He doesn’t know what to call this emotion that is gnawing at him right now, doesn’t know if he should vocalize the question on the tip of his tongue, but he can’t help but ask it, just like how he can’t help but continue staring at Lan Wanyin’s profile.
“Where is he now?” His voice sounds strangled, tight, hoarse, strained.
Lan Wanyin glances at him from the corner of his eye. Their gazes meet and Lan Wanyin holds it. “He is gone. But you remind me a little of him—equally reckless.”
Jiang Xichen’s breath catches. “Then how do we differ?”
Lan Wanyin chuckles, the sound light and mellifluous, before he pulls away and starts walking again.
“He is not as shameless.”
Notes:
It was not my initial intention but this chapter turned out strangely... angsty.
Here, have some Wangxian humor(?) to make up for it.Wei Wuxian sneezes. This is his second sneeze in a row—who is the one that’s badmouthing him?!
“Lan Zhan, do you think it’s Sizhui’er?”
Lan Wangji glances up from the mass of reports on his desk at his husband who is sitting opposite him, boredly doodling on a stack of papers. Even though a decade has passed since Wei Wuxian’s punishment at the Library Pavilion, some things will still never change.
“No, that’s not right. I mean, I left my Lotus Seal on my desk for him to use, so he should be thanking me for giving him the extra exposure to all the varieties of Sect Duties instead of lamenting my absence, right? I’m doing him a favor, it’s not like the other Sect Heirs get to have such a head start at his age!”
“Mn.”
Wei Wuxian sneezes twice again.
“Aiyo~ Baobei, stop reading those boring reports already. Think about your poor husband that took such pains to travel here from Lotus Pier!” Wei Wuxian pouts as he climbs onto Lan Wangji’s lap, winding his arms around the latter’s neck.
“To sneak here?”
“Don’t pay attention to these mindless details.” Wei Wuxian purses his lips. “I’m cold, warm me up~?”
Lan Wangji’s fingers twitch around Wei Wuxian’s waist and he heaves the smaller man up, carrying him to bed.
“Mn.”
Chapter 11: Recollection I
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
<PRESENT>
They spend the next two weeks following the ghost hand's directions blindly southwestwards, travelling all the way down from Qinghe to Yueyang.
Lan Wanyin does not vocalize it, but it is painstakingly obvious from the sudden slowing of pace that he is worried about Jiang Xichen pushing himself. However, Jiang Xichen pretends he doesn't notice—not simply because the constant travelling while being anaemic from his widening ritual wounds is indeed taking a toll on his body, but because the numerous stops they make in towns along the journey also means he gets to spend more time with Lan Wanyin.
"Wanyin-ge, Wanyin-ge, look, isn't this cute?" Jiang Xichen pauses by a roadside store and picks up one of the rabbit lanterns on display. It is zhongqiu jie1 today, one of the festivals celebrating love and reunions, and the streets are packed full of couples as well as young children with lanterns, all of them on the way to find a good spot to view the moon from.
“This Young Master has good taste!” The storekeeper immediately says, wringing his hands together as he glances up at Jiang Xichen. “The lanterns in my store are all handmade from exquisite materials. That white rabbit lantern that you are holding right now is one of a kind!”
Jiang Xichen raises a questioning brow, and glances over to the wares of the other stores on the same street. Two out of every three shops have at least one rabbit lantern in a similar style.
He sets the merchandise back down. "I'll take a look around first."
Lan Wanyin steps forward, reaching into his white sleeve at the exact same moment Jiang Xichen moves backwards. A light jingle of coins catches Jiang Xichen’s attention and he hastily grabs onto the other man's wrist before he manages to hand the coins over to the shopkeeper.
“Hold up. Wanyin-ge, why are you taking your money pouch out for?"
Lan Wanyin peers curiously at Jiang Xichen. "Didn't you want to buy the lantern?"
No, he did not! He was just browsing around! What would a grown man like him need a lantern for anyway?!
"I'll use my own money if I want to buy anything."
"Do you have money?"
Jiang Xichen gapes at Lan Wanyin, mortified.
"That's… That's not the point!" Jiang Xichen huffs indignantly as he all but drags Lan Wanyin away from the store. "Listen, you don't have to pay for everything I pick up. You are my friend, not my dad."
"But isn't that what friends do?"
Jiang Xichen stutters to a stop and immediately whirls around to stare Lan Wanyin dead in the eyes. "Who… Where did you learn that from?!"
Lan Wanyin blinks, deadpanning. "My brother."
Jiang Xichen makes a face.
Lan Wangji, what on earth have you been teaching your brother?!
However, if Jiang Xichen ever thought that the worst thing Lan Wanyin picked up from Lan Wangji is the ludicrous display of excessive generosity to friends, he would gladly take the statement back now.
“Scallion pancakes?” Jiang Xichen blinks, surprised, when Lan Wanyin appears at his inn room's door with an entire plate of them one fine morning. It is a breakfast staple back down near Yunmeng, but it is definitely not very common in their current location.
At least not the version with flecks of red chilies poking through the crispy pastry crust.
Adding chilies to scallion pancakes is not the traditional way to make this dish. In fact, it was something he and his sister, Jiang Yanli, haphazardly invented together to satisfy Wei Wuxian's craving for spices. It had been a given for the Jiang household to prepare them in this exact way since, and Jiang Xichen had neither made nor eaten the regular scallion pancakes ever again.
To think there is someone else who would prepare them in the exact same way!
“Where did you get these from?” Jiang Xichen questions, excitedly reaching out to the food. Lan Wanyin had been using his injuries as a reason to prevent him from having any spice in the past few weeks and his abstinence from said peppers had merely managed to cultivate an intense craving for the familiar burn.
“I made them."
Jiang Xichen freezes mid-motion, blinking twice. He never knew that Lan Wanyin could cook. He just naturally assumed that the other man couldn't.
Besides, why would he choose to make spicy scallion pancakes of all things? As far as Jiang Xichen remembers, he had only prepared this once for Lan Wanyin—on the day the latter showed him around Cloud Recesses, and he recalls clearly that Lan Wanyin did not even enjoy eating it. He had choked on the spice, cussed, then proceeded to chase him all around the back mountains with Sandu.
For Wanyin to make him this one particular dish now, could it be that he is starting to suspect his identity again?
Jiang Xichen gulps. "Why?"
Lan Wanyin does not even hesitate with his reply. "My brother cooks breakfast for his friend every morning, so I thought I would try too.”
Oh, he is safe. Wanyin merely wants to cook for him every morning.
No, wait.
“Every morning?!”
Under what circumstances would the respectable Sect Leader Lan need to cook by himself? Even if the fare in Cloud Recesses does not suit his tastes, with his current status and level of authority, Lan Wangji should be able to put in a request for the chefs to prepare a plethora of other dishes, right?
“Yes, every morning. Then they dine together alone in the Jingshi.” Lan Wanyin’s tone is even, as if he is discussing the weather instead of some scandalous gossip.
Jiang Xichen's jaw drops.
This is definitely beyond the level of a friend! This is like a hidden lover! If he lets the misconceptions pile up and allows Lan Wanyin's actions to snowball, then what would be next? Eating from the same bowl? Drinking from the same cup?
How will he still have the face to meet Wei Wuxian?!!
The sudden feeling of something soft and warm pressing against his lips immediately jerks Jiang Xichen out of his reverie and he stumbles backwards, blanching as he slaps a hand over his own mouth.
"W-Wanyin-ge?!"
Lan Wanyin answers, leveling him with a puzzled stare, his arm still outstretched with one of his freshly made scallion pancakes. Jiang Xichen gapes in return, glancing numbly from the pastry to Lan Wanyin's expression and back down to the pastry again. He freezes completely in place while the gears in his head spin, trying to make sense of the situation.
Noticing Jiang Xichen's silence, Lan Wanyin takes another step forward and pushes the scallion pancake against his lips once again.
"Eat. We need to set off soon."
Jiang Xichen accepts the scallion pancake with shaking hands and takes a huge bite from it.
The full-bodied spice immediately hits him at the back of the throat, creeping across his lips and tongue with a numbing pain that leaves a tingling sensation in its wake. All the bright tints of flavour that Jiang Xichen enjoyed previously causes him nothing but an aching pain now in Song Hengyi’s body, and he spits the mouthful out within seconds. Despite doing so, the burn doesn’t fade. Instead, it seemingly intensifies, and Jiang Xichen immediately doubles over, his face heating up from the lingering spasms of heat on his tongue.
Exactly how much spice did Lan Wanyin put into this? The whole container?
“Wanyin-ge, you... you shouldn’t eat that,” Jiang Xichen whispers hoarsely between coughs. “It’s too spicy, you won’t be able to take it.”
“It is not that bad,” Lan Wanyin answers blandly while munching on one of the scallion pancakes with a straight face.
Jiang Xichen gapes.
There is not even a single drop of sweat on Lan Wanyin’s forehead! How is this possible? Where did the Lan Wanyin that he knew previously go to? When and how did Lan Wanyin manage to build up this level of tolerance?
Jiang Xichen chokes again, wiping at the tears stinging the corners of his reddening eyes. The gesture transfers the spice from the tips of his fingers to his eyes and they prickle from the heat, forcing more tears to the surface.
The tables have turned. Now, he is the one who is unable to take any spices. He is the one condemned to a life of bland fare.
Jiang Xichen sniffles.
Song Hengyi, ah, Song Hengyi.... How are you this weak?!
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
Other than not being allowed to consume any spices, Jiang Xichen is also forbidden from using his xiao.
The last time he played anything was a duet of Rest with Lan Wanyin just the previous night, and although the effect on the demonic body parts was phenomenal—they actually climbed back into their individual qiankun pouches of their own accord—the numerous complaints from the other guests in neighbouring rooms had the innkeeper tossing them out.
There are no any other inns in the small town, and that is the reason why the two lonely men are currently sitting opposite each other out in the wilderness, with a crackling campfire between them and two grilled fishes on sticks in their hands.
Jiang Xichen shifts away from the flames sub-consciously, puffing on his share of food before taking a huge bite out of it. This is definitely not anywhere near the top of the list of the best dishes he had ever served, but it’s still moderately passable with the fish’s crispy skin and flaky white flesh.
“Wanyin-ge, you aren’t eating?”
“I’m not hungry.”
“I promise that it tastes much better than it looks. Just try a bite?”
Lan Wanyin shakes his head.
“Song-gongzi, let me ask you. Do you think that the people who killed Chifeng-zun and the people who sewed his legs on another corpse are of the same group?”
Jiang Xichen chooses his words carefully. “That’s hard to say. If we are going by the fact that they know of Nie Sect’s Sabre Hall tradition, then it can only be someone from the Sect itself.”
Truth be told, Jiang Xichen highly suspects that hypothesis, solely because it wouldn't make any sense for anyone to leave such an obvious clue. If the murderer truly belonged to the Nie Sect, then hiding Nie Mingjue’s legs at the Sabre Hall would merely put unnecessary suspicions on themselves.
Still, Jiang Xichen can’t completely rule out the possibility that this entire farce could be a decoy strategy to lead them on a wild goose chase away from the Nie Sect, just like how he can’t rule out the possibility that the legs could also have been planted at the Sabre Hall just to hint that the actual murderer is someone close to the Nie Sect.
Lan Wanyin tilts his head to the side, unconvinced. "No, the Nie Sect has always prioritized loyalty and chivalry. I cannot imagine there being a traitor in their midst."
"Then Wanyin-ge is suggesting that the legs are planted there on purpose?"
Lan Wanyin takes a moment to mull over Jiang Xichen's words, then shakes his head. “Something does not add up, but there is no one I know that has a grudge against Chifeng-zun and yet is close enough with the Nie Sect to know of the existence of the Saber Hall.”
Jiang Xichen hums under his breath in agreement, and turns his attention back to his half-eaten dinner.
The words he heard in Nie Mingjue’s raspy voice when he touched Baxia in the Sabre Hall comes to mind then: kill that son of a prostitute—and Jiang Xichen only knows one person who would fit that profile; Jin Guangyao.
But the thing is, Jin Guangyao had never been especially close to Nie Mingjue. The bad blood between them since the Sunshot Campaign is publicly known. Even if Jin Guangyao was the one who killed Nie Mingjue and he somehow learned of the existence of the Saber Hall during his time as Nie Mingjue's deputy, it would still not make sense for him to have an insider that is willing to help him hide the legs there. The people who are involved with the choosing of the corpses are likely highly-ranked Nie cultivators which share the same opinions as their sect leader with regards to Jin Guangyao. Furthermore, the risk of having Nie Huaisang find out...
Jin Guangyao does not seem like such a rash risktaker to Jiang Xichen.
Furthermore, casting that mystery about Jin Guangyao and the Sabre Hall aside, there is another key part that still baffles him, like a puzzle that is missing a piece. If Nie Mingjue wants to kill Jin Guangyao for revenge, what are Song Hengyi’s motivations then? What did Jin Guangyao do to him that is worse than death, that he would gladly toss his soul to damnation just for a sliver of chance for revenge?
Jiang Xichen presses a hand to his chest, remembering the spider web of scars across it.
“Song-gongzi?”
Jiang Xichen snaps out of his thoughts and grins up at Lan Wanyin, fully intent on diverting the topic. “I was just wondering, is Wanyin-ge not going to play your song tonight?”
Lan Wanyin stiffens at once, his fingers twitching.
Jiang Xichen blinks. “What’s wrong?"
“How do you know about the song?”
“Well, you aren’t exactly subtle. Our rooms are usually next to each other, and I hear you playing the same song at the same time almost every other night.”
Lan Wanyin averts his gaze. His cheeks appear a light shade of red under the dim orange glow of the campfire.
“Wanyin-ge?”
“I do not wish to play the song in front of other people.”
"But it is a very good song. You should record it down somewhere. Perhaps in the Lan Sect's Library Pavilion? I heard there's a huge section there dedicated to music."
Lan Wanyin frowns, his brows pulling together. "No, this song is… different."
Jiang Xichen laces his fingers under his chin and leans forward, interested. "How so?"
“I composed this song for a single person, and have only ever played it in front of him, and will only play it for him in this lifetime.”
Jiang Xichen’s heart pounds in his chest, shallow and fast, at Lan Wanyin’s words. He can’t help the warm smile that blooms across his face as he scoots over to Lan Wanyin and bumps his shoulder against the other cultivator’s.
“Even if you don’t want to play it, tell me more about the song. Who did you compose it for?”
Lan Wanyin moves away slightly so they are no longer touching. “It is none of your business.”
“Hey, aren’t we friends? Don’t be so cold.” Jiang Xichen coughs into his fist, using it to cover his smug grin as he scoots closer to Lan Wanyin again. "You sound too uncaring; girls won’t like it."
Lan Wanyin snaps his gaze to him, eyes wide and oddly misty, as if he is recalling a long-forgotten memory. However, he regains his composure within the next moment and hastily glances away again.
"I do not need them to like me."
Jiang Xichen turns to him, a retort on the tip of his tongue but he swallows his words back down when he notices Lan Wanyin settling back against a tree trunk and sliding his eyes close—a silent gesture to show that he isn’t interested in continuing the conversation.
“It is the hour of hai.”2
Jiang Xichen lets out a defeated sigh and turns back to the flames, snapping more twigs into half and adding the kindling to the campfire.
Without the mindless chatter and banter to distract him, the wintry air feels even colder than before.
Jiang Xichen cannot afford to use spiritual energy to keep warm so he shifts closer to the orange flames instead, and holds his hands out before himself. After a long moment of silence, he chances a glance back at the other cultivator.
Lan Wanyin has fallen asleep, and Jiang Xichen shakes his head at the sight of the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest.
Even after so many years, this man is still sleeping at the Lan regulated timing.
<FLASHBACK>
The next few weeks after the archery competition are a complete hell for Jiang Xichen.
Word of his fight with the Lan Sect Heir has spread throughout the entire Cultivation World like wildfire, and the rumours only grow and get increasingly twisted with every new rendition. And ever since his return to Lotus Pier, Jiang Xichen has been grounded by his mother, Yu Ziyuan, for his unruly behaviour.
Wei Wuxian and Jiang Yanli visit him periodically, bringing him food behind their parents' back.
Jiang Xichen has a feeling his mother knows about these visits—his siblings are not exactly the best at being sneaky—but she chooses to turn a blind eye to it all, a simple but powerful way to show that although she has to punish him for the public eye, she still firmly believes that his actions at Cloud Recesses are not in the wrong.
"Help me tell A-Niang thanks for this," Jiang Xichen raises the bowl of spicy wontons in his hand, each of them wrapped in a unique way that is distinctively his mother's style.
"Jiang-shushu, he..." Wei Wuxian begins, and Jiang Xichen interrupts him with a laugh.
"He has been bringing you to the Sect Meetings instead. I know, I guessed as much, and I'm telling you it's fine."
"But you're the Sect Heir and I'm just—"
"You're going to be my right hand man, right? What would I do if you're going to suck at your job when I take over?"
"But, Ge, I—"
"Shixiong3," Jiang Xichen corrects. "Be careful, if A-Niang hears your slip-up, she is bound to be angry again."
Wei Wuxian makes a face. Jiang Xichen laughs.
"Alright, alright, my cute little shidi, don't worry about the small details. Just treat it like a learning experience," Jiang Xichen says as he ruffles Wei Wuxian's hair until the latter's worries melt away and the frown on his face gives way to a bright laughter.
“Oh wait,” Wei Wuxian perks up suddenly, reaching behind himself to pull out a stack of papers. “I met Lan Zhan the other day at Cloud Recesses and he told me to pass these back to you.”
Jiang Xichen does not even need to take a closer look to know that these are the apology letters he had sent to Lan Wanyin ever since the incident at the Qishan archery competition. For Lan Wanyin to ask his elder brother to return these to him… Jiang Xichen grimaces, his mood instantly plummeting to rock bottom.
Wei Wuxian gives him a friendly smack on his back. “Don’t look so down! If you want, I can be your wingman. Jiang-shushu is heading up to Cloud Recesses next week. I could sneak out during the meeting to go find Lan-xiong?”
“No way. Your explanations will only make things worse between us.”
“What? Have some faith in me! Even that old man Lan Qiren couldn’t win me in an argument!”
Jiang Xichen scoffs. “That’s only because he didn’t want to expend the effort to argue with you. Have you heard yourself speak?”
Wei Wuxian gasps, affronted.
Jiang Yanli smiles at the sight of her bickering brothers as she steps into the room, holding a tray with three bowls of her trademark lotus root and pork rib soup. “Oh? Is our A-Huan interested in someone?”
“Absolutely! Listen to this, Shijie. This guy here has already given him a handcrafted hairpin and his entire heart. All that’s left is— mmph?!”
Jiang Xichen leaps across the table and slaps his hand over Wei Wuxian's mouth.
“I wonder who this person is,” Jiang Yanli pitches in, holding up a finger to her chin as her eyes twinkle mischievously. “Could it be... Lan er-gongzi?”
Jiang Xichen groans in defeat, burying his face in his hands. “A-Jie, not you too...”
Jiang Yanli hides a giggle behind her sleeve. "Oh? I never knew that our A-Huan could get this red too."
Wei Wuxian smirks. “Well, it seems like you would get married before shijie then!”
It is the wrong thing to say, because Jiang Xichen’s face immediately falls when he is reminded of how the fight at Cloud Recesses escalated even after he was sent back to Lotus Pier, and Sect Leader Jin even came down personally several days ago to annul the pre-arranged engagement.
The atmosphere in the room grows unbearably cold and awkward.
"A-Jie, about your engagement with Jin Zixuan, I am really..."
Jiang Yanli smiles, and pats Jiang Xichen on the back. “I have told you this before and I would say it again. While growing up, I have already made up my mind. I want to have a family with someone who loves me as much as I love him, and unless Jin-gongzi grows to feel that way for me in the future, I would not have agreed to the marriage anyway. A-Huan, you don't have to feel bad."
Jiang Xichen returns her smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
“Besides, I heard from A-Xian that you two only started fighting because Jin-gongzi said something demeaning about me and the Sect first." Jiang Yanli adds as she pulls both of them close, into a tight embrace. "Having two brothers who care so much about me; there is really nothing more an elder sister can ask for."
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
It is during the turn of season from summer to autumn that a heavily injured Lan Wangji turns up at the doorstep of Lotus Pier.
His usual white and blue robes are stained with streaks of drying blood, and he clutches on to several qiankun pouches that are filled to the brim with scrolls and books from the Library Pavilion. He barely manages to utter the words Cloud Recesses, fire, didi, and Wens, before collapsing in Wei Wuxian's arms.
It doesn't take a genius to piece together what might have possibly happened.
"Stay," Jiang Xichen instructs Wei Wuxian and mounts Shuoyue without another word, but he is stopped by Jinzhu and Yinzhu.
"Young Master, we will head to Cloud Recesses instead."
Jiang Xichen grits his teeth. "I don't have time for this."
If it is someone that injured Lan Wangji to this degree—Jiang Xichen shudders at the possible condition Lan Wanyin might be in.
The thought of Lan Wanyin being injured makes him uneasy.
"Move."
Neither of the two women budge. Instead, a piercing voice comes from behind Jiang Xichen.
"The one that needs to move is you, A-Huan."
Jiang Xichen turns around, stepping off his sword to greet his mother, Yu Ziyuan. He keeps his head bent, struggling to regain his composure.
"The Wens have sent word this morning demanding for each Sect to dispatch at least twenty disciples to Qishan within three days, for them to learn from the experts in the Wen Sect. At least one direct disciple from the clan must be included."
Jiang Xichen's breath catches. He understands what his mother means—this is his duty, as a Sect Heir, as a brother.
He can't possibly let his sister go in his stead, but...
"Just a day," Jiang Xichen says, voice trembling slightly. "I'll take a look, make sure he's alright, and head directly to Qishan from Gusu."
"Xichen," Jiang Fengmian says, stepping out into the yard where they are all gathered at. “You always lose your cool lately when it comes to matters involving the Lan Sect. Calm down and think about it logically. What is the best course of action right now?”
“Of course it’s to—” Jiang Xichen cuts himself off mid-sentence, clenching his fists with the effort needed to swallow down the unspoken words.
His father is right. It probably took Lan Wangji days to get here from Cloud Recesses. Even if he went there now, the Wens would have left. What would change even if he went there now?
Jiang Xichen's shoulders slump. "I understand."
Yu Ziyuan steps forward and places a hand on his shoulder. If it were any other time, Jiang Xichen would perceive it as a comforting weight, but right now, it resembles shackles, chaining him to his responsibilities.
He grimaces.
"A-Huan, listen to me carefully. The Wen Sect sent the same message to the Lan Sect too."
It is a simple sentence, a simple gesture, but it cuts right through the layers of negative emotions clouding Jiang Xichen's mind.
The Lan Sect had gotten the same message. There would be no need for the Wens to send it if they had annihilated the Lan Sect. And if Lan Wangji is here right now, that could only mean...
Jiang Xichen snaps his head up, finally meeting his mother's eyes. Her gaze is clear and resolute, befitting a Sect Leader's wife, and Jiang Xichen steels his resolve.
He is not the only one that is unhappy with the current situation with the Wens. But now is not the right time to openly attack the Wens yet. They have to bide their time and wait for an opening to strike.
"I understand," Jiang Xichen says again, but there is no more of the grim reluctance from earlier.
Yu Ziyuan nods at him and turns to eye Wei Wuxian who is still crouched down and supporting an unconscious Lan Wangji.
"Wei Ying, didn't you hear what we just said? Why are you still dawdling about there? Bring him to the infirmary then go pack your bags to leave already!"
Wei Wuxian glances from Lan Wangji to Yu Ziyuan then to Jiang Xichen, a silent plea in his eyes, and Jiang Xichen is quick to oblige.
"A-Niang, Iet Wei Wuxian stay behind. I will feel more at ease knowing that he is here to hold back Hanguang-jun."
"Holding him back from what? From rushing to Qishan and butchering you?" Yu Ziyuan snaps angrily, pinching Jiang Xichen's cheek. "If you know that he will get mad then don't do it! Why are you digging up people's well-nurtured cabbage? Are you a pig?3 Is this how we teach you in Yunmeng?!"
Both Jiang Xichen and Wei Wuxian fall silent at Yu Ziyuan's outburst, neither daring to move or speak as she tuts.
"How long do you intend to stand there dawdling? Go off to pack your bags already! And you, Wei Ying! What are you waiting for, sitting there and hugging him like that? Do you think that the power of your little crush will heal him back to full health? Stop daydreaming and bring the injured guest to the infirmary!"
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
The twenty boys leave Lotus Pier that night. Purple sparks forming the Yunmeng Jiang lotus motif spreads out on the skies above the sect as Jiang Yanli sees them off with a teary smile, handling each of them a cloth bag filled with all sorts of ointments and preserved snacks.
Although Jiang Xichen has his suspicions about the true purpose of this indoctrination, he assures his sister that they would be fine before setting off. However, he quickly realises upon their arrival at Qishan, that things are indeed not as simple as they initially appeared to be.
Jiang Xichen had originally assumed that this entire farce was merely for the Wen Sect to exert pressure on the other Four Great Sects to keep them in line, but if that was really the case, then there would be no need for the Wens to summon disciples from the other smaller Sects as well.
Furthermore, the Wen disciples in the area are all armed and trained senior disciples. No matter how large the Wen Sect is, having this many senior disciples around just to guard them seems pretty ridiculous.
Jiang Xichen tightens his grip around Shuoyue and glances around surreptitiously, trying to find a hint of familiar white and blue amongst the sea of colours. It takes him several minutes before he manages to locate Lan Wanyin, but the patrolling Wen disciple stops him before he can wander over.
“Stay in formation.”
Jiang Xichen narrows his eyes. "I'm just trying to greet a friend before the main event starts. Surely that wouldn't be against the rules?"
“Stay in formation,” the unrelenting Wen disciple repeats again, with a hint of annoyance creeping into the edges of his voice. “Wen er-gongzi has an important announcement to make soon.”
As if on cue, Wen Chao steps forward onto the platform then, with the infamous Wen Zhuliu by his side. A hushed silence falls over the crowd upon seeing the Core-melting Hand, but Wen Chao misunderstands that the attention is for him instead.
He crosses his arms across his chest smugly at the sight of all the cultivators lined up in neat rows under him.
"Listen up! The reason why we, the Wen Sect, had all of you come here today is so that we can train you again from the basics and improve the level of the Cultivation World as a whole. If you understand that, then hand over your swords!”
The gathered disciples instantly start whispering amongst themselves. The volume of their chatter steadily increases as the discussion grows, with each cultivator feeling more indignant than the previous, until eventually, someone brave and brash enough speaks up.
“A cultivator is never without his sword! Why do you want us to hand them over?”
Wen Chao glares in the general direction of the voice. “Who was the one that spoke? Which Sect are you from? Bring him forward!"
The Wen disciples amongst them grab the insolent man and drag him to the front. He attempts to struggle, but alas, his resistance is completely futile, and a swift kick to the back of his knees makes him collapse to his knees before the platform.
Wen Chao sneers down at him.
“It is exactly because there are disciples like you, who know nothing of conduct, compliance, and humility, that my father has asked me to be here personally to indoctrinate all of you mongrels."
The Yunmeng Jiang disciples reach for the hilt of their swords at the unwarranted insult, and Jiang Xichen gives them a quick shake of his head as a warning to not to be rash.
It is not worth it for them to start a fight over a couple of petty words.
The Qishan Wen Sect is like the sun at high noon right now, standing high in solidarity over the other Sects. Although it has never been explicitly expressed in words, all the disciples gathered here understand they have no choice but to submit to the Wen Sect’s whims right now.
They are all treading on thin ice. If they were to defy or offend Wen Chao, who knows what troubles their actions would bring to their own Sect back home?
Jiang Xichen hands over Shuoyue quietly, and notices from his peripheral vision that Lan Wanyin does the same after a slight moment of hesitation.
He heaves a sigh of relief. His worst fear has passed.
However, that is simply the start of it all.
The next step the Wen Sect takes is to hand out copies of a thick booklet: Quintessence of the Wen Sect. The first few pages contain a list of rules, while the next section is dedicated to the heroic tales and quotes from the past Wen cultivators.
All the disciples are told to memorize the rules by heart and act by them at all times.
“When in Rome, do as the Romans do,” Wen Chao reminds them in a haughty tone when the disciples escalate their complaints to him. “Since you are in Qishan now, you have to cast aside your Sect’s ideals and adopt ours. Didn’t your mothers teach you basic courtesy and respect?”
Then, some time after the indoctrination starts, Wen Chao suddenly makes an off-handed comment about the disciples lacking battle experience and needing more night-hunting experience. He splits them into two distinct groups—with the Jiangs and Nies in one half, and the Lans and Jins in the other half—and forces them to take turns to join the Wen Sect’s night-hunts so they can all watch and emulate him.
However, instead of asking them to observe and learn from a distance, Wen Chao demands that the unarmed disciples take on the roles of scouts and decoys instead. In addition, he regularly leaves them to fend for themselves during the fights, only to appear fashionably late at the last moment to steal all the glory.
His actions leave every disciple angry and frustrated, but they do understand that they are completely defenceless without their spiritual weapons so they begrudgingly swallow all their misgivings down.
However, what these common disciples go through are nothing in comparison to the punishments and humiliation Jin Zixuan, Lan Wanyin and Jiang Xichen experience daily.
It is not a secret that Wen Chao has been fixated on them ever since his utter and complete loss at the archery competition at Qishan.
Since Wei Wuxian could not participate this time, Wen Chao focuses even harder on Jiang Xichen, intent on giving him double the shame to make up for Wei Wuxian's absence.
Jiang Xichen takes all the humiliation in stride, always making sure to keep a smiling face despite the countless insults Wen Chao hurls his way. However, his carefree attitude merely serves to make Wen Chao even more infuriated than he already is, and he begrudgingly adds the Jiangs into the other team that is set to follow Wen Chao on his night-hunt the very next day.
The targeted location this time is a place called the Dust-Creek Mountain.
Its looming presence is already dark and oppressive from a distance, but it gets even worse up close, with an eerie atmosphere that usually deters anyone from entering. However, with a dozen senior Wen cultivators behind them, together with one Wang Lingjiao brandishing her branding iron, the unarmed disciples have no other choice but to grit their teeth and plow forward.
They enter the forest, and almost at once, Jiang Xichen feels a chill run down the length of his spine.
His gut feeling tells him there is something wrong with this place.
It starts with a tingling sensation prickling across the back of Jiang Xichen’s neck, that accumulates exponentially the further they follow the remote trail into the forest. The line of old cedar trees flanking the path adds to the heavy and eerie atmosphere, with their dry and gnarled trunks that seemingly stretch endlessly up into the overcast sky. It creates an unsettling impression that they are all trapped here, fenced in by the woody bark.
In addition, the forest is also strangely void of all sounds of nature. There is no rustling of leaves, no chirping of birds, no buzzing of insects. Everything is deathly silent, punctuated solely by the snapping of twigs underfoot and the soft, muted murmurs amongst the disciples.
“Let’s take a short break here!” Wang Lingjiao announces the moment she spots a creek. It is the first water source they have come across thus far, and the panting woman immediately brushes the fallen maple leaves aside and plops down on a rock for a breather.
The other Wen cultivators disperse as well, keen on finding someplace to rest their legs.
Jiang Xichen takes the chance to search for Lan Wanyin.
Since they are assigned to different teams, they rarely have the chance to meet on normal days. On the rare occasions they run into each other, Lan Wanyin would either turn away the moment their eyes meet, or there will be someone who unwittingly interrupts them.
"Wanyin," Jiang Xichen greets with his usual good-natured smile when he finally spots the other cultivator. He settles down on the opposite end of the log. "How have you been..."
The rest of the sentence dies off when he notices the condition Lan Wanyin is in—eyes narrowed, teeth clenched, his face deathly pale with a sheen of beading sweat matting his hair to his forehead. Lan Wanyin doesn’t respond to Jiang Xichen immediately, but instead, he tightens his fists, creasing the white and blue material of his robes.
"What's wrong?" Jiang Xichen gives the younger man a once-over and notices the slight trembling of his right foot. "Did you injure your leg? Was it the Wens?"
He reaches a hand out gingerly towards Lan Wanyin’s injured limb and the latter withdraws it reflexively, wincing from the sudden jerk..
The smile on Jiang Xichen's face falters.
“Let me see it. Is there a wound? Have you treated it?”
Lan Wanyin turns away, his lips pressed into a thin line, adamant on staying silent.
Jiang Xichen sighs. “Wanyin, you—”
A fragrant breeze suddenly wafts through the air and Jiang Xichen casts a glance sideward. His eyes light up when he recognizes the distinct scent of medicinal herbs from the perfume sachet hanging on the waist sash of a female cultivator.
"Wait here. That lady gave me a small medicinal sachet earlier. I'll go ask her for some herbs," Jiang Xichen says as he rises to his feet, but the younger man grabs on to a corner of his robes. And yet, despite his bold action, Lan Wanyin is still looking away, staring long and hard at the dried leaves on the ground, adamant on looking anywhere and everywhere, except at Jiang Xichen himself.
"Stay."
Jiang Xichen's breath catches. "Okay."
However, Lan Wanyin refuses to let go of the fabric even after Jiang Xichen sits back down.
They spend the next few moments simply in silence, with Jiang Xichen peering at him from the corner of his eye, watching how Lan Wanyin's lower lip trembles as some colour returns to his face. It starts with a splash of red blooming up the back of his neck, then across his cheeks, before settling at the tips of his ears.
The new and unblemished white forehead ribbon on Lan Wanyin is a stark contrast against his reddening skin, and the mere sight of the ribbon sends Jiang Xichen’s pulse racing and turns his palms clammy.
"Wanyin, that day at the Discussion Conference, I didn't mean to—"
"You didn't wait."
Lan Wanyin’s tone is brusque, flat and resolute, but Jiang Xichen catches the briefest hint of something else in it, and he blinks in response, confused.
Lan Wanyin tightens his grip on Jiang Xichen's robes in light of the latter’s silence. "You promised to wait."
Realisation dawns on Jiang Xichen a fraction of a moment too late, because Lan Wanyin is already rising to his feet, pulling away.
"Wanyin—"
"Forget it."
Lan Wanyin's voice is cold and sharp in the thundering silence surrounding the two of them in the forest, and Jiang Xichen involuntarily reaches out before he can stop himself, fingers wrapping around Lan Wanyin's slender wrist as he yanks the shorter man back towards himself.
Lan Wanyin turns with an audible gasp at that, his steel blue eyes glistening with unshed tears, and Jiang Xichen freezes in place.
The tears do not fall, but they might as well have—because Jiang Xichen feels a pang in his heart from the mere sight alone. Neither of them move or speak in that instance, yet the intangible tension between them builds palpably with the mass of unfathomable emotions reflected in the depths of Lan Wanyin’s eyes.
Jiang Xichen parts his lips to speak, but the hoarse words that leave his mouth are swallowed up by a loud shout from the area near the creek.
“Found it!”
The two men spring apart at once, pretending as if nothing happened, while Wang Lingjiao and the rest of the Wen disciples come over to herd them towards the entrance.
"This must be it! Quick, everyone, get down there!” Wen Chao announces cheerily, gesturing for the cultivators at the front to start moving.
By the time Jiang Xichen joins the line of disciples near the entrance, the entirety of the Jin and Lan Sects have already entered. The Jiang Sect is next, and Jiang Xichen shoots the Yunmeng disciples behind him a comforting smile before he grips the vine and uses it as leverage to lower himself at a leisurely pace into the hole
The tunnel leading down into the cave is steep, and Jiang Xichen slides for almost thirty feet before he finally reaches ground. It’s painfully obvious to him then that there would be nearly no plausible way for them to be able to climb back out easily, and Jiang Xichen immediately glances around in hopes of finding another visible exit.
There aren't any.
The feeling of unease in Jiang Xichen grows, and the gut feeling doesn’t let up even after the armed Wen entourage and Wen Zhuliu make their way into the cave.
Perhaps it is the damp air and oppressive atmosphere, or perhaps it is the way Wen Chao impatiently chases them into the depths of the caves, without allowing them to scout the caves properly to check if there is anything slinking around in the shadows. He forces them to ignore all the nooks and crannies, and to simply focus on the main path going straight from start to end, and before long, they arrive at the last chamber.
There is a deep pool right in the middle. The water appears almost jet-black, stretching on from one end of the cave to the other, with stone islets of all sizes protruding from its surface.
There is no other path before them, but the prey of their night-hunt has not shown up yet. Irritation bubbles in Wen Chao at the sheer thought that this would be another failed trip, and he gnaws at his fingernails impatiently.
Wang Lingjiao notices an opportunity when she sees it, and quickly grabs the chance.
“Chaochao, this Jiaojiao has a suggestion. How about we choose someone, hang them up and use their blood as bait to lure the prey out?"
Wen Chao perks up at once. "What a great idea! My Jiaojiao is so smart! Since it is your suggestion, then you can choose the person!"
"Hm… How about her then?" Wang Lingjiao quickly points to one of the few female cultivators in their ranks—the woman with the perfume sachet. She is the prettiest cultivator that had tagged along on this night-hunt and the jealous Wang Lingjiao had noticed Wen Chao glancing over to her several times prior to this.
“H-Huh? This one? How about someone else?”
Wang Lingjiao pouts, pressing her curves up against Wen Chao's as she coyly wraps her arms around his neck. “Why someone else? I choose this one. Don’t tell me that you will miss her?”
“Nonsense! Why would you think that I will miss her? I gave you permission to do whatever you want, didn’t I? So everything is up to Jiaojiao!”
Wang Lingjiao waves her hand, and the Wen disciples immediately advance towards her chosen victim.
"Please… Please no!" The female cultivator pleads. It is obvious that if she were to be hung up as bait, she would likely not be able to come back down alive. However, the people around her shifts, swiftly backing away.
No sane person would dare to offend the Wen Sect after all.
"Bring her here!" Wen Chao commands, and she glances around desperately, suddenly noticing that two people near her are still rooted to where they were—Jin Zixuan and Jiang Xichen.
"P-Please, save me!" She cries, attempting to clamber over to them at once, but she isn’t able to outrun the Wen Cultivators. One of them catches her around her shoulders, making her shriek, and Lan Wanyin interrupts, sending the beefy cultivator staggering backwards with a sharp kick across his face.
“Enough is enough. First you want people to be meat shields for you, and now you want to use live humans as bait?!”
Wen Chao clicks his tongue in annoyance. “Are you rebelling against me? Let me warn you, I’ve been tolerating you for a very long time!”
Lan Wanyin scoffs, shoving the female cultivator towards Jin Zixuan and Jiang Xichen before taking another step forward. His eyes flashes with anger as he glares defiantly up at Wen Chao.
"It is just blood you need, right? Does it matter whose blood it is?"
Wen Chao's eyes twinkle maniacally. "I see, so Lan er-gongzi is offering himself up, huh?"
Jiang Xichen's fingers twitch. His heartbeat speeds up.
On the other hand, Lan Wanyin narrows his eyes at the sight of a dozen Wen disciples closing in on him, their swords at the ready. He takes a deep breath, fingers twitching as he considers the slim possibility of winning this fight alone while being handicapped with a broken leg.
"What are all of you waiting for? Tie him up!" Wen Chao thunders and the disciples charge towards Lan Wanyin.
Jiang Xichen sprints forward at that. He connects a palm to the Wen disciple closest to him, and sends a burst of spiritual energy so strong and abrupt that it hurls the screaming man away. He flies straight towards his neighboring Wen disciple, who turns at the commotion—and unwittingly impales the poor man's arm on his drawn sword.
The musty scent of the cave tinge with the metallic hint of fresh blood, and echoes with the pained groans of the wounded man.
Jiang Xichen takes several more steps forward, and only comes to a halt when he is standing back to back, by Lan Wanyin.
The air in the dark cave crackles around Jiang Xichen as his usual smile falls away. Molten amber eyes narrow dangerously, glinting with an electrifying hue of cold purple at the corners.
Jiang Xichen glowers darkly up at Wen Chao.
"Touch him, and I'll kill you."
Notes:
1. Mid-autumn festival Back
2. Hour of hai/hài shí (亥时): nine at night. Back
3. WWX and JXC (martial brothers) call each other shixiong/shidi in front of YZY. WWX calls JXC ‘ge’ when they are not. Back
3. 小猪拱白菜 is also used in the original novel. It is used to describe how fathers feel when their daughters are married, usually to ‘bad’ men that are not approved by them. Here, it is used in a similar way with farmer (LWJ) being furious that his carefully nurtured cabbage (LWY) has been stolen by the pig (JXC). Back
***
The end-notes scene for this chapter will tie in with why Lan Wanyin is now able to take spice. This is set during the seven year gap.
“Cheng-di,” Wei Wuxian coos, his eyes twinkling mischievously as he sets a bowl of bright red congee in front of Lan Wanyin. “I cooked all of this specially for my favorite guest at Lotus Pier, eat up!”
Lan Wanyin eyes the congee suspiciously, swirling his spoon in the unappetising mixture several times. “Are you sure you would tell me more about him if I eat this?"
"One story per bowl!" Wei Wuxian confirms in a singsong voice. “I promise! I swear!”
Lan Wanyin narrows his eyes at him.
"Please, Cheng-di, look into my eyes. Do I seem like a person who goes back on his word?"
Lan Wanyin huffs, turning his attention back to the food. He takes a moment to steel his resolve, then raises a spoonful of the red congee to his lips.
*
“C-Cheng-di, here, have some water.”
Wei Wuxian didn’t do this on purpose. Lan Wangji had appeared so unperturbed by any amount of spices, so Wei Wuxian had naturally assumed his younger brother would have a similar level of tolerance too.
He really did not expect the younger man to tear up from just a single bite, start sweating on his second mouthful, then bursting into a coughing fit on his third. But despite that, he insisted on persevering on, choking and sobbing his way through half a bowl.
“I… I can still eat more…”
Wei Wuxian offers him a comforting pat. “I feel sorry for you, and I don’t want Lan Zhan to kill me, so I’ll just tell you the story now.”
Lan Wanyin sniffles and nods numbly.
“You see, back when we were at Cloud Recesses during that study exchange, Ge once told me that he met his soulmate. He wouldn’t tell me who exactly it was, but he said that person was just like...”
Lan Wanyin raises a brow, but leans forward in his seat anyway, staring intently at Wei Wuxian as he nods along to his words.
“Just like?”
“Well…” Wei Wuxian drawls, tapping his finger against his jaw. “I reeeeeeally wish I could tell you. But you see, a deal is a deal, so you get half a story for half a bowl.”
Lan Wanyin’s eye twitches with annoyance.
Wei Wuxian rises to his feet with a flourish and shoots Lan Wanyin a wink before dashing away at breakneck speed. “It was nice talking with you though, but now I have Sect duties to attend to!”
“Wei Wuxian, you-!”
*
Wei Wuxian crosses his arms over his chest as he eyes the younger cultivator before him.
“Cheng-di, it hasn’t even been a week. Are you sure you want to try again?”
“Bring it on.”
*
“Oh my, Cheng-di, that’s two bowls! You’re improving so fast that it’s scary!” Wei Wuxian claps his hands together, giving him a round of applause before pushing a third bowl over. “Here, here, if you finish this extra bowl, I’ll throw in an extra bonus story just for you~”
Lan Wanyin finishes the third bowl in a single gulp.
*
“Huh, Cheng-di, you’re here again? It’s barely been two months.”
Lan Wanyin doesn’t even grace Wei Wuxian with a verbal answer. He simply props Sandu up against the table and settles into the seat opposite the older man.
Wei Wuxian grins. “I have a question. Are you a masochist at heart, or are you secretly in love with my cooking?”
*
“T-That’s fifteen bowls…”
“A deal is a deal, you owe me fifteen stories then.”
Wei Wuxian grimaces, his brows lifted in disbelief as he looks from the spick-and-span bowls to the completely unbothered Lan Wanyin who is currently wiping at the corner of his lips with a spotless handkerchief.
"That's true but fifteen bowls is a little too much right? Leave some for me, Cheng-di, that was supposed to be my lunch too!"
Chapter 12: Recollection II
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
<FLASHBACK>
"Jiang Xichen!" Wen Chao thunders, red-faced, a vein throbbing at his temple. "How dare you threaten me! If you tie that insolent brat up with your own two hands right now, I'll forget everything that happened here. Otherwise, no one from either of your Sects will be able to get out of here alive!"
There is a sharp intake of breath coming from Lan Wanyin, followed by a series of murmurings that rumbles through the crowd. Everyone awaits with bated breath for Jiang Xichen to come to a decision, but the latter remains completely still, unmoving, with his attention trained solely on Wen Chao.
“Get cracking already, or do you need help?” Wen Chao snaps.
Jiang Xichen narrows his eyes, noticing the minute changes in the stances of the Wen disciples surrounding them. He takes a step forward, angling his body to keep Lan Wanyin shielded behind him. It is a small action, but it is enough to show his decision on the matter.
Wen Chao grits his teeth in fury at Jiang Xichen’s display of defiance, but instead of trying to calm Wen Chao down, Jiang Xichen adds oil to the fire instead, and provokes Wen Chao with his words. “Didn’t I say earlier that if anyone dares to touch Lan Wanyin, I’ll kill them? Don’t tell me that the Second Young Master of Qishan Wen can’t comprehend human language?”
“Y-You bastard!” Wen Chao completely loses control over his anger upon hearing Jiang Xichen's snub. He instantly unsheathes his sword and lunges at the other man with an exaggerated battle cry.
Wen Zhuliu reaches a hand out in an attempt to stop Wen Chao, but the initial surprise at the cowardly man taking the initiative to charge at someone else throws him completely off rhythm, and Wen Zhuliu is a fraction of a second too late.
On the other hand, everything right down to Wen Chao’s uncharacteristic response is part of Jiang Xichen’s plan, and he swiftly side-steps the anticipated attack. Next, he uses Wen Chao’s momentum to his advantage and plants his elbow into the pudge of Wen Chao’s belly, knocking the wind out of him. Then, he hooks an arm over Wen Chao's shoulders, holding him hostage, before following up with a sharp blow to the back of the latter's hand to make him drop his sword.
Jiang Xichen quickly snatches the blade out of mid-air and holds it flush against Wen Chao's neck. "Don't move. I'm sure Wen er-gongzi wouldn't want my hand to slip, would you?"
Wen Chao gulps. "Do you think that this level of threat will scare—"
Jiang Xichen moves the sword closer to his jugular, allowing the cool edge of metal to graze lightly across bare skin.
"S-Stop moving! Everyone, stop moving right now, do you hear me?!” Wen Chao screeches at once, and the Wen disciples surrounding them promptly halt, lowering their weapons.
Wen Zhuliu is the only one who seems to be unperturbed by Wen Chao's flustered commands, and remains standing in an offensive stance, as if he is all prepared to lunge at them at any given moment. The air around them sparks with unspoken tension, but Jiang Xichen knows that he has the upper-hand in this situation—and he has absolutely no qualms in exploiting it.
With a wry smile, Jiang Xichen meets Wen Zhuliu’s impassive gaze while purposefully digging the blade into Wen Chao's skin, not hard enough to draw blood but definitely sufficient to serve as a preliminary warning.
And as expected, Wen Zhuliu puts his arms down without any ounce of hesitation.
Jiang Xichen smirks. Even the notorious Core-Melting Hand is nothing but a lapdog when bound by duty.
"Clear the way," Jiang Xichen demands, and the Wen disciples behind them quickly disperse, heading over to the opposite side of the cave.
They trade step for step, with the Wens advancing while the disciples from the other sects steadily retreat. However, neither party makes it five steps before a gurgling groan comes from within the depths of the lake. Almost immediately after, the dark islets on the surface of the water shake with a low rumble and start cruising towards the shore.
The water level in the pool falls as the islets start rising, rivulets of water cascading down in between the pikes. The temperature in the cave starts dropping exponentially too, causing the hairs on the back of Jiang Xichen's arms to stand on end from both the cold and an all-encompassing sense of uneasiness mounting in him.
"Something… Something is coming!" a disciple stutters, his trembling knees buckling. He falls on his rear with a shriek when a large, coal-black head soars out of the water and dives straight towards them, snatching up the injured and bleeding Wen cultivator from earlier, and swallows him in a single gulp.
The sudden unexpected appearance of the huge beast stuns everyone. The creature stretches its long and thick snake-like neck out from a jet-black carapace, and the loud piercing screech that resounds instantly sends everyone staggering several steps backwards with a surprised gasp.
Jiang Xichen remains where he is, composed, completely still and silent, while Wen Chao starts screaming and thrashing at the mere sight of the hideous creature.
“W-What are all of you waiting for? That must be the prey we are hunting for! Take it down now!”
No one moves a single muscle.
"Do all of you not hear me? That's the prey! We have to defeat it! Wen Zhu—!"
Jiang Xichen slaps a hand over Wen Chao's mouth, but it is already too late. The beast has already been provoked by the noise and it whips its gaze to them, baring its fangs as it thrusts its head out towards Wen Chao.
Clicking his tongue in annoyance, Jiang Xichen immediately sends Wen Chao’s sword flying out with an agile flick of his wrist. However, the sword merely glints off the iron-hard scales of the beast, sending a trail of harmless orange sparks before it plummets into the water with a subdued splash.
The beast pauses mid-motion, cocking its head to the side. Then, its large eyeballs turn leisurely in their deep-seated sockets, staring down contemplatively at the glowing object underwater. Its pupils first narrow to a slit, then widen into a circle before shifting back into a slit again.
It probably can't see very well, Jiang Xichen infers, so they could use the chance to retreat towards the entrance. As long as their movements are small and silent, they should go undetected.
However, before Jiang Xichen even has a chance to mention his plans, the brash Wen Sect’s disciples have already thwarted them by firing their arrows at the beast. The mindless attacks are unable to penetrate the thick scaly layer on the creature’s skin, but instead, succeed in drawing the monster’s attention back to them.
“Quickly, hurry up and subdue it!” Wen Chao commands, gesturing for the Wen disciples to fire the arrows with even more vigour. Despite this, none of their shots actually manage to injure or deter the monster. It advances to them steadily, and sends several of the Wen disciples in the frontline flying into the cave walls with a wide swipe of its front leg.
Upon witnessing how the armed Wen seniors are unable to even land a single hit on the creature, the disciples from the other sects immediately start panicking. The cave chamber fills with screams and yells as they push and shove each other, all of them fighting to be the first to squeeze into the narrow passageway leading back towards the entrance.
Jiang Xichen hurriedly scans the area.
He locates his fellow sect disciples easily enough, but Lan Wanyin is nowhere to be found. Instead, he spots Wang Lingjiao behind him—taking advantage of the chaos to sneak up to the female cultivator from earlier.
Two of her servants are holding the struggling cultivator firmly in place while Wang Lingjiao shoves her branding iron towards the latter’s face without a shred of hesitation.
Jiang Xichen releases his hold on Wen Chao immediately and gives him a vicious kick, sending him flying towards Wang Lingjiao. A strident howl of agony pierces through the chaotic noise when the red-hot brand in Wang Lingjiao's hand meets Wen Chao’s shoulder, searing right through his robes to burn the crest of the Wen sun motif into pale flesh.
Wang Lingjiao drops the branding iron immediately. "I didn't mean to do it!"
"Slut! Bitch!" Wen Chao gives her a backhanded slap right across her face, sending the fragile woman sprawling backwards onto the ground. Tears pour down her cheeks and she quickly crawls over on all fours, begging for forgiveness. However, instead of helping her up, Wen Chao simply gives her a forceful kick straight to her chest, and Wang Lingjiao falls limply onto her back, retching blood.
“Retreat! Retreat right now!” Wen Chao hollers, clutching at his injured shoulder with one hand as he stumbles towards Wen Zhuliu.
Upon hearing Wen Chao's command, the other Wen disciples immediately cease fighting and hop onto their swords, quickly ascending up and away. Jin Zixuan clicks his tongue in annoyance when he notices the Wens leaving, and he immediately yells for the others to follow him.
However, when they arrive at the entrance, they find that the Wens have cut off the vine. Without it, there is no way the unarmed disciples could scale the steep dirt wall, and all of them could only watch helplessly as the Wens roll a boulder into place, sealing the entrance.
“Shit,” Jin Zixuan mutters, kicking a small pebble for good measure when the dim lighting from the entrance completely withers, leaving them in the embrace of an omnipresent darkness.
“What should we do now? Are we… Are we all going to die here?” One of the disciples asks in a trembling voice and everyone immediately flies into a frenzy. Some of them huddle together in a corner to cry while others start pooling ideas on how they could scale the wall and move the boulder.
However, the ideas they come up with all seem to simply emphasize how much of an impossible feat they have in front of them. Even if they manage to get multiple people up onto the narrow ledge, there is no guarantee that they would physically be able to move the boulder.
It is a herculean task, to say at the very least, and everyone adding to the idea in the heat of the moment eventually gives up, slumping forward dejectedly and letting out defeated sighs.
Jiang Xichen notices his chance and rises to his feet, turning to address everyone. "Let's head back to the lake then."
A chorus of hushed whispers break out amidst the crowd.
"What good would that do? Even if we defeated it, we can't get out anyway!"
"There were fresh maple leaves floating on the water—" Jiang Xichen begins, but the same cultivator dressed in yellow interrupts him before he can explain it further in detail.
"And?!"
"And so, it would mean that there is a hole in the cave that connects the lake to the forest creek we rested at," Lan Wanyin clarifies. "There were plenty of maple trees at the creek."
The Jin cultivator flushes red when his fellow disciples snicker at him, making fun of his poor observation and inferential skills. He points an accusatory finger at Jiang Xichen. "He… He should have just said that from the start instead of beating around the bush!"
Lan Wanyin takes several strides forward, only coming to a stop when he is beside Jiang Xichen. He glares at the rude cultivator, the glint of a challenge evident in the depths of his eyes. "Perhaps you shouldn't have interrupted him twice then."
A vein at the Jin cultivator's temple throbs as his face turns a nasty shade of purple with rage. "The both of you…!"
Jin Zixuan takes a step forward and places a hand onto the man's shoulder. "Zixun, they are right. The only choice we have now is to go back to the lake and try to find another exit."
"But that's insane! Look, the beast is still watching stubbornly over the pool. There's no way we can get past it!"
"Zixun, you know me. If they are both dead-ends anyway, I'd rather go down fighting."
Jin Zixun shrugs off his cousin's hand, huffing in utmost displeasure before leading the arduous trudge back to the pool, his thunderous footsteps echoing in the cave.
Jin Zixuan follows after, accompanied by the rest of the Jin Sect disciples. Jiang Xichen and Lan Wanyin only join in after, walking side by side, their arms nearly touching.
"Thanks for that just now," Jiang Xichen grins, shooting a sidelong glance at the other man.
Lan Wanyin stays silent for a long moment before a soft sigh escapes him. "It wasn't for you. I was just stating the truth."
"Sure sure," Jiang Xichen laughs, not pushing the matter further. Instead, he opts to change the subject. "Oh, by the way, did you remember that Jin Zixun guy? I thought we would have met him several times before since he is Jin Zixuan's cousin, but I have absolutely no recollection of him."
Lan Wanyin glances away. "I didn't recognise him either."
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
"Oh no, we are definitely too late… I can't believe that dog Wen Chao actually left her behind…" The Yunmeng Jiang disciple hiding right beside Jiang Xichen mutters, sounding extremely disgusted as they arrive just in time to witness the prowling beast clench Wang Lingjiao between its teeth and drag her corpse slowly into its shell.
There is a trail of blood across the cave floor, a shade of deep red against the dark dirt. Loud crunching noises come from within the beast's carapace, leaving little to the imagination.
Jiang Xichen and Lan Wanyin avert their gazes, their faces solemn.
“It is far too dangerous,” Lan Wanyin says after a beat, his brows drawn and scrunched into a frown. “We should come up with a better plan.”
“There isn’t a better plan, Wanyin,” Jiang Xichen answers without any hesitation. “The best method right now is to have someone lure the beast out of the pool while we send another person in to find the exit.”
Lan Wanyin shoots him a pointed look, unconvinced.
The Jiang disciples beside them snicker. “Don't worry, our Yunmeng Jiang Sect is known for swimming, and even then, Xichen-shixiong is the best swimmer amongst us all. He can outswim a shark any day, let alone a misshapen tortoise!”
"Yes, that's right," Jiang Xichen chimes in with a chuckle. "Don't worry so much!"
Lan Wanyin scoffs. "I am not worried at all."
"Well, since you said so, shall we proceed as planned then~?" Jiang Xichen replies with a cheeky smile, knowing with certainty that Lan Wanyin would not be able to stop him this time round.
In fact, he doesn't even wait for Lan Wanyin to respond.
Jiang Xichen bends his knees and drops lower into a crouching position while he draws closer to the water body. He moves silently and cautiously forward, inching closer to the edge of the lake on tiptoes, until he reaches a large deformed rock and promptly ducks down behind it.
The beast is on the other side of the stone, almost close enough to touch. Every breath it takes gushes out of its shell with a high-pitched whistling sound, bringing with it the pungent stench of rot.
The hairs at the back of Jiang Xichen's neck stand on end.
An indescribable sense of trepidation brews in him, overcoming him, but a look to his right at Lan Wanyin allays his fears—the younger man always has that effect on him.
Jiang Xichen shoots him a wide grin.
Lan Wanyin rolls his eyes in response under the flickering flame of his torch, before drawing a fire talisman to add a dash of spiritual energy to the flames, making the fire burn piercingly bright in the dark cave.
Then, he tosses the torch out toward the far end of the cave, away from Jiang Xichen.
The beast slides out of its shell at the clattering noise and slowly extends its neck out to the flames, instinctively attracted by the heat and light.
Behind it, Jiang Xichen dives noiselessly into the water.
The murkiness of the lake burns his eyes and he squints through the pain while reaching out to the walls with his hands, feeling around for any loose rocks or openings.
Up on the shore, Lan Wanyin watches with bated breath as the creature approaches the torch, curious. It cranes its long neck but hastily rears back when it is scorched by the searing flames. Enraged, it shoots out two streams of water vapour from its nostrils and swiftly puts the torch out.
Jiang Xichen surfaces at this unfortunate timing for a breath, and the ferocious beast plunges towards him, mouth open and fangs bared.
One of the Jiang disciples immediately tosses a pebble straight at the monster, hitting it on its long neck, but it does not even flinch. Noticing that, Lan Wanyin uses the leftover traces of blood on his finger to draw the incantation of a fire talisman on his palm, and slaps it onto the ground, sending forth a spurt of flames that distracts the beast.
The beast veers towards Lan Wanyin instantly, as if beckoned by the light, but is too afraid to come close after its earlier ordeal.
"Go to him," Lan Wanyin hisses under his breath. The Jiang disciple runs to Jiang Xichen, helping the Sect Heir out from the water.
Jiang Xichen brushes the wet strands matted to his face away. "I found a hole at the bottom, about half a dozen can pass through at a time."
Upon hearing that, the cultivators rush out from their hiding spots towards Jiang Xichen. Lan Wanyin hits the ground with his palm again, letting out another bout of fresh flames to keep the creature's attention firmly on himself.
Then, he takes several steps backwards along with the line of flames to lure the creature further out of the water.
Their lack of foresight for a potential escape route is evident now because Lan Wanyin has no idea how to get away from the beast. There is nothing else nearby that could potentially remain brightly lit for long enough to distract it again, and Lan Wanyin knows his best shot is likely to lure it into one of the passageways and somehow manage to shake it off his trail in the labyrinth.
Lan Wanyin takes another step back again, urging the monster to follow with a trail of smouldering embers, and the beast lumbers out of the water laboriously, creeping closer with its snarling mouth wide open.
“Wanyin,” Jiang Xichen calls as he sends the second last group into the water.
There are only a small handful of people left standing around, and they shuffle their feet impatiently, each one of them more eager than the previous person to be the next in-line.
However, Lan Wanyin is still fixated on distracting the beast and doesn't even look up.
Jiang Xichen waves the last group of six into the water, not even caring to watch them diving in. Instead, he hastily cranes his head back to the younger man. The entirety of the beast is already on shore and this is their perfect chance. "Wanyin, quick!"
Lan Wanyin gives a brief curt nod in acknowledgement as he sends out another spurt of flames. These are brighter than the ones before, and might actually hold long enough even without proper kindling. Relieved, Lan Wanyin straightens his posture and prepares to stand when an arrow whizzes out of nowhere and embeds itself deep into his arm.
“I… I was aiming for the beast!” The Lan disciple that shot the arrow pales and immediately dives into the water before Jiang Xichen could grab ahold of him. And instead of chasing after the perpetrator, Jiang Xichen snaps his focus back to Lan Wanyin, whose brows are furrowed in pain.
The flames before him waver.
After a slight moment of hesitation, Lan Wanyin wraps his fingers around the arrow and yanks it right out of his right arm before his golden core could heal the injured flesh around the wound.
Blood gushes out from the gaping wound, soaking into the pristine white Lan Sect robes. The scent of blood is faint in the air, but it is sufficient to provoke the irate beast.
It rears its head back, the thickness of its pupils rapidly shifting. Jiang Xichen notices the change in the beast's demeanour before Lan Wanyin does, and barely manages to shove the younger man out of the way in the nick of time.
Strong jaws lined with razor sharp fangs close around Jiang Xichen's leg, puncturing the tissue and sinew.
The beast throws its head back viciously when the taste of Jiang Xichen's blood hits its tongue. The movement flings Jiang Xichen up in a wide arc, and his back hits the stone ceiling of the cave with a loud, resounding crack.
He blacks out.
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
Jiang Xichen wakes to the sight of Lan Wanyin's back, clad in nothing but two thin layers—a light blue inner robe and a white outer layer, feeding dead leaves and branches to the small fire, blissfully unaware that Jiang Xichen had just regained consciousness.
With the flickering light from the small fire, Jiang Xichen briefly glances around the unfamiliar surroundings, noting that it is probably an area that's far enough from the pool before he struggles to sit up.
Pain shoots up his leg instantly and Jiang Xichen grimaces, letting out a soft groan.
Lan Wanyin is by his side in a matter of seconds.
"Are you alright?"
Jiang Xichen chuckles, forcing a smile onto his face as he waves away Lan Wanyin's worries. "I'm fine, I'm fine. This much is nothing, I get hurt a lot during training, so I'm used to it already. Don't worry so much, I have high pain tolerance."
Lan Wanyin huffs, casting him a withering look as he lightly prods Jiang Xichen's injured leg.
Jiang Xichen hisses in pain.
“If you know that it hurts, then do not be so rash next time.”
"I can't help it. My body moves automatically when you're in danger."
Lan Wanyin's face turns pink. "Shameless."
"I'm shameless?" Jiang Xichen blinks, gesturing to himself. He is only in his inner robes, with the hem of his trousers rolled up to his thighs. His injuries are carefully bandaged with a strip of white cloth and medicinal herbs. "I'm not the one that stripped an unconscious man!"
Lan Wanyin glowers at him, raising an arm threateningly.
Jiang Xichen catches it before it strikes his leg, wrapping his fingers around Lan Wanyin's wrist. "Doctor Lan, have mercy. Don't hit your patient, it'll hurt."
"Didn't you just say that you have high pain tolerance?"
"Yes, but that's hardly the reason to start abusing it?!"
Lan Wanyin scoffs, rolling his eyes and trying to pull away, but Jiang Xichen's hold on his wrist is firm and steadfast.
"Wanyin, thank you."
Lan Wanyin freezes. Then, after a long moment, he finally replies. "Don't mention it."
They spend a while in that position, with Jiang Xichen still holding on to Lan Wanyin's wrist. The point of contact is searing hot for both of them, but neither makes the first move to pull away.
Jiang Xichen is the first to break the silence. "Your brother is at Lotus Pier."
Lan Wanyin snaps his steel blue gaze up to meet Jiang Xichen's, his eyes wide and searching.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you this earlier," Jiang Xichen continues with a slight smile and a softer tone. "He was rather badly injured but you don't have to worry too much. Wei Wuxian stayed behind to tend to him. Lan Wangji will be fine."
Lan Wanyin swallows thickly, his Adam's apple bobbing with the action.
"Thank you... for letting me know," Lan Wanyin replies as he falls backwards, slumping as if all the tension just leaked out of his body at the revelation. His lower lip trembles, lashes glistening with unshed tears. "I'm glad that xiongzhang is fine... When Wen Xu attacked Cloud Recesses, shufu... I-I thought that xiongzhang had also..."
Jiang Xichen reaches out, simply resting his palm on the top of Lan Wanyin's head. Then, just like how his sister does it for him whenever he feels sad, Jiang Xichen pats Lan Wanyin's head, running his fingers over the soft black tresses.
"Mn. You did well, Wanyin."
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
"The Xuanwu of Slaughter?" Jiang Xichen repeats, contemplatively. "A yao?"
After Lan Wanyin calmed down sufficiently, the two of them pulled their dried robes back on and sat down side by side near the fire, discussing their options for dealing with the fake Xuanwu—the Xuanwu of Slaughter.
"Even if we do lure it out of the lake, we have no spiritual tools to fight it with, and we are both injured," Jiang Xichen concludes with a sigh. The only thing they have are the scattered weapons that the Wens have left behind, and it is painstakingly obvious that mere bows and arrows would do nothing against the hard scales on the beast. "It takes three to four days to get from here to Yunmeng, and probably a few more if the Wens are after them. It might be better to play it safe and wait."
Lan Wanyin narrows his eyes, deep in thought, but also very visibly unconvinced. "We can use the Chord Assassination technique. It was one of the techniques I picked up during my seclusion."
The Chord Assassination technique is something that is famous all throughout the Cultivation world. It is a prized invention by Lan Yi, the only female head of the Lan family thus far. The technique is one that is unique to the Gusu Lan Sect and is known to have been only passed down within the main branch. Even if Jiang Xichen is curious about it, he can't possibly ask for more information. So instead, he simply nods, remembering the period of seclusion Lan Wanyin entered in the middle of the study exchange in Cloud Recesses.
Back when he first met Lan Wanyin, way before he…
Jiang Xichen sucks in a deep breath. “Wanyin, about your forehead ribbon—”
“I replaced it. I understand that it was just a misfire. You do not have to feel bad.”
“That’s good then,” Jiang Xichen replies, trailing off with a nervous chuckle. “I was certain you were still angry when you didn’t reply to any of my letters.”
Lan Wanyin raises a brow. “Letters?”
Jiang Xichen blinks. “I sent you one every other day after the archery competition.”
“I never received any.”
How could that be possible? Jiang Xichen clearly remembers Wei Wuxian bringing every last one of them back, saying that they had been returned by Lan Wangji.
Wait, Lan Wangji? Jiang Xichen’s eye twitches. Surely he wouldn’t go that far…?
“We had been preparing for an event and xiongzhang asked for all the letters delivered to Cloud Recesses to be sent to him directly. Perhaps your letters were mixed up in the pile.”
Jiang Xichen’s jaw drops. Lan Wangji totally would!
"Also, here." Lan Wanyin makes use of the moment Jiang Xichen is distracted to grab his arm and set a piece of white jade on his palm. He swiftly looks away again, the tips of his ears tinting pink. "That day, after the Discussion Conference… The reason I asked you to wait was because I wanted to pass you this."
Jiang Xichen peers down at the jade pendant. Its appearance is a tad familiar, though Jiang Xichen is unable to recall exactly where he had seen it before. He flips the item around in his hand, taking in the sight of the carved petals of the Yunmeng Jiang’s trademark lotus flower motif, alongside a plethora of incantations etched onto its surface—from things like keeping dirt and dust away, to arrays against low-level ghouls and resentment energy.
"You handcrafted this?" Jiang Xichen asks, barely able to hide the hint of joy and excitement in his tone while he runs the pad of his thumb over the 'Huan' etched onto the back. "I'll take good care of it. I'll keep it with me, take it wherever I go, look at it all the time, and think of you everyday."
Lan Wanyin whirls around at that, face red, lips pouting, and lunges forward to grab the pendant, but Jiang Xichen withdraws his hand, easily holding it out of Lan Wanyin's reach.
"Give it back!"
Jiang Xichen smirks at him, a teasing glint apparent in his eyes as he slides the pendant in between his lapels. "Don't you know? You can't ask people to return gifts that you've given out. It's mine now!"
"You—" Lan Wanyin seethes, fuming as he turns away and sits down with his back facing Jiang Xichen, clearly offended.
Jiang Xichen smiles at the sight of the other man's back trembling ever so slightly from anger, and promptly lowers his hand to the Bell of Clarity fastened to his waistband in the heat of the moment. “Then I guess I’ll have to give you something in return too.”
“It’s fine. You have already given me the hairpin. You can think of this as a return gift.”
Jiang Xichen inclines his head. He had not expected Lan Wanyin to bring the hairpin up, especially since he still hasn’t worn it once before. “Hm? Did you like the gift so much that you even made something in return for it?”
“It is just basic courtesy to!” Lan Wanyin sputters in retort. “Stop being so full of yourself! Besides, I can’t even wear it because it has a lotus on the end. It is too inappropriate!”
“Inappropriate? I gave that to you out of sheer goodwill. But hearing you put it like that now, just makes me wonder what frivolous thoughts Lan er-gongzi is entertaining pertaining to a simple hairpin.”
“S-Stop twisting my words! What I meant to say is that it is too eye-catching! The elders would fucking murder me if I wore it out!”
“In the Cloud Recesses, one cannot be vain,” Jiang Xichen quotes, doing a perfect imitation of Lan Qiren’s voice as he reads out the specific Lan Sect rule. "Thanks for complimenting my artistic sense and superb crafting skills, Wanyin~"
Lan Wanyin gives him a reproachful look.
Jiang Xichen chuckles. “Well, since you don’t hate the gift, then you should wear it someday, even if it’s just for me to see. After all, I did carve the hairpin with you in mind.”
Lan Wanyin turns away at that, facing his back to Jiang Xichen. “Fine.”
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
They wait for another three days, the passing of time easily demarcated by the Lan fixed schedule of sleeping at the hour of hai and rising at the hour of mao.1 Nothing Jiang Xichen tried could change Lan Wanyin’s ingrained habit, and he gave up completely on the second day, simply sitting alone in silence through most of the night.
During his waking hours, Lan Wanyin periodically heads back to the lake to scout the area, while Jiang Xichen focuses on recuperating.
Lan Wanyin tests out different methods of distraction, both old and new, but none of them work well on the Xuanwu. In addition, he can only roam underwater for less than a few minutes each time before the beast notices and starts thrashing about.
There is no plausible way that they could find the hole and escape in time with Jiang Xichen's injury and Lan Wanyin's swimming capabilities.
"We have no choice but to kill the Xuanwu," Jiang Xichen concludes simply, and they easily fall back to their original plan of using the Chord Assassination Technique.
Lan Wanyin stretches the makeshift chord fashioned from tying the thirty-odd bowstrings together taut, and promptly flicks his wrist. A flash of white light flares across the cave chamber and a protruding rock ten feet away crumbles into tiny pieces.
"That's amazing!" Jiang Xichen looks up from his current task of tying the arrows into bundles of twenty. He claps and cheers for Lan Wanyin, genuinely amazed at the prowess of the Chord Assassination Technique. He can now clearly see why this technique is one of the most controversial parts of the Lan Sect's history.
Lan Wanyin doesn't offer a reply to Jiang Xichen's compliment. Instead, he simply picks the chord up and rises to his feet, smoothing the creases out of his robes as he stalks off in the direction of the Xuanwu.
"Wait!" Jiang Xichen calls after him, limping and hobbling over to the younger man. "What's your plan?"
Lan Wanyin pauses. "Breach from within. I will lure it out of its shell then take it down."
"That's not concrete. Exactly how will you lure it out?"
Lan Wanyin falls silent.
Jiang Xichen sighs. "I won't let you do this alone. You can stay outside while I go into the Xuanwu and get—"
"No, you can't come along."
Jiang Xichen blinks, shocked and confused. He'd always been used to people expecting him to take on the tougher roles, not simply sit by and do nothing. "Why?"
"You are still injured."
Jiang Xichen glances at his bandaged leg. Thanks to the herbs Lan Wanyin applied on him on the first day, the lacerations have been healing faster and better than expected. Although it still gets numb with a tingling ache sometimes, Jiang Xichen has gradually been able to put pressure on the injured limb and honestly, he has fought with worse wounds before.
"What injury?" Jiang Xichen slaps his thigh. "Look, it's perfectly fine. It's all healed now because Wanyin took such good care of me!"
Lan Wanyin falls completely silent at the jest, his twitching fingers winding around the chord.
The smile on Jiang Xichen’s face curls skywards because he knows that it will take just another push to get the other man to give in, and he shamelessly throws an arm around Lan Wanyin's shoulder.
"Just leave it all to your gege~"
Lan Wanyin flings his arm off and whirls around to cast a withering glare at him. His face is flushed, as red as a tomato in the firelight of the dancing orange flames, and his shoulders shake in anger. "Jiang Xichen, how are you this shameless?!"
Jiang Xichen smirks, the corners of his lips lifting into a playful smile. "Hm? Did you say something? Recently, I've developed this strange disease where I can only hear if someone calls me Xichen-ge~"
"You—"
Jiang Xichen bursts into laughter, and Lan Wanyin turns away with a swish of his robes, stomping off towards the pool. Jiang Xichen picks up the bundles of arrows and iron rods they scavenged, and trails after him.
The Xuanwu is sleeping when they find it. The top half of its black shell peeks out from the surface of the water and thunderous snores leak out from within, echoing ominously around the cave.
Jiang Xichen sucks in a deep breath, then gives Lan Wanyin a bright grin before he dives into the water. He swims along with the direction of the flow, sneaking right up to the hole in the Xuanwu's shell and flips himself through the entrance.
A rancid smell immediately overpowers all of Jiang Xichen's senses before he even lands into the thick layer of rotten mud that coats everything around him. Jiang Xichen slaps a hand over his mouth and holds his breath, desperately trying not to retch as he forces himself onward.
His feet sink deeper and deeper into the viscous layer of mud with every step.
Jiang Xichen frowns. Although there is barely any light inside here, it is not too difficult for him to guess what this sludge-like substance is. The putrid scent is a huge clue, while the fuzzy black strands floating on the sludge, along with the boot that Jiang Xichen finds with a rotten half-leg in it, is a dead giveaway.
This is a corpse sludge made from broken limbs and decaying corpses—a half-digested mound of bodies of all the humans the Xuanwu had eaten over hundreds of years.
Jiang Xichen swallows dryly, shuddering as he struggles to keep the wound on his lower leg out of the sludge as much as possible while making his way deeper into the shell. He wasn't lying when he told Wanyin it is mostly healed, but he definitely doesn't want to risk a possible infection.
He slides his hand gingerly against the walls as he walks. As he had expected, the thick scales that cover the head and neck of the beast do not reach all the way back here. The portions of the Xuanwu's body that are protected by the shell are much more delicate.
Jiang Xichen pauses right by a patch of soft skin where he can distinctly feel the distant thumping of a heartbeat under his palm.
Bingo! He sidesteps the lumps in the sludge and reaches behind his back, preparing to take out the arrows and rods to pierce into the spot, but realises to his dismay that the bundle of rods is stuck.
It is far too dark at this point to clearly make out what is hindering it and Jiang Xichen resorts to brute force, clenching the handles of the rods with one hand and yanks at it harshly. The action dislodges something that hits the front of the rods with a loud resounding clang.
Jiang Xichen freezes at once, his mind sprinting into overdrive.
One, two, three, four, five.
A few seconds pass in complete, utter silence.
Jiang Xichen lets out a breath of relief. He turns to check what the rods are stuck on, feeling around blindly until he finds the familiar shape of a sword buried in the walls—long and slender, but dull and likely covered in rust.
Jiang Xichen curls his fingers around the hilt and pulls it free from the sludge.
Shrill screams from hundreds and thousands of people immediately fill his head, their wretched wailing voices flooding out all traces of coherent thought.
A cold chill sprouts from the contact point, travelling from the hilt of the sword up the length of Jiang Xichen's arm. It courses down through his entire body, before settling deep within his chest with a prickling, numbing burn.
His golden core revs up immediately, seeping waves of warmth to counteract the impenetrable coldness, and Jiang Xichen snaps out with that, hurriedly withdrawing his hand from the hilt.
The rusted sword falls into the sludge and the screams gradually ebb away.
Jiang Xichen stumbles back, clutching at his throbbing head and gasping greedily for fresh air. What… What in the world was that? Its level of resentment energy is so strong!
In the next second, his surroundings light up with a dim orange glow that briefly illuminates Jiang Xichen's surroundings and reflect off of the silhouette of a pitch-black iron sword in front of him.
Jiang Xichen stiffens, the taste of palpable fear sour on his tongue.
This is the inside the shell—how could there possibly be any light? Unless...
Jiang Xichen whirls around on his heel, and as expected, he meets a large pair of golden eyes inches away from him, the pupils dilating into slits as they focus on him.
Without missing a beat, the Xuanwu flashes its criss-crossed fangs, a hideous arrangement of black and yellow spikes, and lets out a feral roar through its open mouth.
Jiang Xichen flinches, grimacing from the sheer volume that threatens to burst his eardrums.
However, instead of instinctually covering his ears, Jiang Xichen forces himself to move based on logic instead. He reaches behind him, tugging the bundle of iron rods completely free, and uses the Xuanwu's own momentum to stuff them into the beast's mouth as it lunges towards him.
The rods bury themselves deep into the Xuanwu's jaw, forcing it to keep its mouth stretched wide open.
Using the opening created, Jiang Xichen then stabs an entire bundle of arrows into the most delicate part of its skin with all the strength he can muster. It pierces the soft flesh at the correct angle and the Xuanwu gives a piercing shriek of pain and attempts to clench its jaw shut.
The motion bends all the iron rods between its fangs, and Jiang Xichen hurriedly sticks a few more bundles of arrows into the tender skin inside the beast's mouth while he could still reach them.
If the Xuanwu is akin to any game animal, Jiang Xichen knows that the recurring wounds would force it out of its shell soon enough in an attempt to flee, so he pushes on, stabbing bundle after bundle into its gums.
Mad with pain, the Xuanwu writhes and thrashes within the confines of its shell, causing the mound of corpses to churn.
Jiang Xichen grabs onto the bent iron rods, clinging to them for dear life while trying to stay as close to the Xuanwu as it whips its head back and forth, flinging him along with its motions. Sometimes, Jiang Xichen finds himself swung through the air, and at other times, he is almost entirely submerged in the rancid limbs.
Then, all of a sudden, Jiang Xichen feels a strong unexpected tug of wind from behind, sucking his body straight into the Xuanwu's mouth.
The monster has seemingly given up on trying to close its mouth. Instead, it now opens it wide, attempting to swallow everything up.
The corpse mound rushes towards the Xuanwu's mouth at the speed of a heavy flood, washing over Jiang Xichen. He squeezes his eyes shut and kicks out blindly with his legs, desperately swimming against the current of rotten bodies while struggling to keep his hold on the iron rods from slipping.
He remembers his last words to Lan Wanyin—leave it to your gege, he'd said. But if he ends up dying here… No, he definitely won't allow himself to die here.
Jiang Xichen reaches out blindly, and miraculously grabs onto the iron sword. Piercing wails fill his ears again, much louder and sharper this time, but there isn't the all-encompassing feeling of dread that accompanies the screams. Instead, it's almost soothing now, especially when the jade pendant grows hot against his skin, clearing his head just a brief moment, enough for Jiang Xichen to think, to move—and he stabs the sword right into the Xuanwu's jaw, directly between two fangs.
The beast rears its head back and shoots it out from within its shell in a mix of anger and pain. The sudden motion squeezes its body out so hard that the delicate flesh that is usually hidden under its layer of thick scales become completely exposed.
Lan Wanyin, who had positioned the chord around the hole for the Xuanwu's head, immediately tugs the chord tight the moment the creature rushes out.
It wraps around the snake-like neck snugly and Lan Wanyin strums across it without hesitation—once, twice, thrice, and the vibrating bowstring slices straight into its tender flesh.
Under the pain, the Xuanwu goes completely insane, thrashing its head and tail about wildly as it goes on a complete rampage within the dark waters, creating a large whirlpool that stirs up crashing waves.
Jiang Xichen grasps onto the iron sword with both hands now, bracing himself against the screams of anguish that torments his head endlessly while he scrambles to push the dull blade in further, bit by bit.
Meanwhile, Lan Wanyin pulls tightly on the chord even when it slices into his palms, and strums it at regular intervals with bloodied fingers, refusing to let up for even a split second.
They hold on for six long hours.
Six hours later is when the two have nearly completely depleted their spiritual energy. Six hours later is when the Xuanwu of Slaughter finally stops moving.
The beast's head is almost entirely detached from the rest of its body by then, and it falls into the pool with a loud splash, sending up waves of purplish-red water tinged with a thick, pungent scent of blood.
Despite the deep gashes on his palms, Lan Wanyin immediately leaps into the water and swims toward its head.
He spots the older man in the beast's mouth, holding on to the hilt of a sword, slumped over and unconscious.
"Xichen!" Lan Wanyin yells, but Jiang Xichen doesn't even stir.
Desperate, Lan Wanyin grabs onto the two rows of fangs and attempts to pry the Xuanwu's jaw apart. It takes him several tries before he finally succeeds.
"Xichen?"
Jiang Xichen doesn't respond. He is still unconscious, lying face-down on the monster's tongue, with both hands still clutching tightly at the black sword.
Lan Wanyin braces his weight on one hand and immediately reaches in with the other to grab the labels of Jiang Xichen's purple robes and haul him out.
The iron sword slips out from Jiang Xichen's grip and plunge into the water, sinking right to the bottom. At the same time, his limp body crashes into Lan Wanyin's smaller frame and the latter staggers a little under the weight of them both.
With a grunt, Lan Wanyin slings one of Jiang Xichen's arms over his shoulder while he wraps his free hand around the latter's waist, and proceeds to trudge through the bloody water, back to shore.
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
"I can't find it," Jiang Xichen groans as he slinks out of lake again.
They had been at it for a while now, ever since Jiang Xichen regained consciousness. They are taking turns to dive into the pool in search of the exit, since it is difficult for either of them to stay in the contaminated waters for an extended period of time. It is currently Jiang Xichen's turn, and because he is the one who found the opening in the first place, he can say with utmost certainty after several rounds of scouting, that it is no longer there.
And there is only one logical explanation he can think of. When the Xuanwu was flailing in pain, it caused part of the rock structure underwater to collapse and it coincidentally blocked up their only escape route.
Sighing, Jiang Xichen slicks his wet hair back and wrings his wet robes dry as he makes his way back to their resting spot, contemplating how he should break the news to Lan Wanyin. They had tried so hard to defeat the Xuanwu, and finding out that they can’t escape now is definitely too anticlimactic!
Moreover, they had definitely expended too much spiritual energy on the fight, so much so that it might actually impact their state of inedia.2
Could they even last till help come? Would help even come?
Jiang Xichen sighs again while approaching the familiar orange glow of the fire. He expected Lan Wanyin to be resting against the wall or meditating in the lotus position, but he spots the latter lying on the ground instead—which is extremely uncharacteristic of the mysophobic man.
Lan Wanyin had been reluctant to even touch the dirt ground these past few days, choosing to sleep sitting upright instead.
Jiang Xichen frowns, moving closer to the younger man cautiously. As if on cue, Lan Wanyin makes a low, pained groan and curls into himself, shrivelling up with whole body trembles. Jiang Xichen hastily kneels down on one knee.
“Wanyin?”
Lan Wanyin's face is completely red, flushed and sweaty, brows furrowed in discomfort. Still, he cracks his eyes open, revealing a pair of glassy and glazed over steel blue orbs. Jiang Xichen lays a hand against the latter’s forehead and feels the unmistakable heat of a high fever.
"Xichen? You are finally back..." Lan Wanyin's voice is hoarse and raspy. He struggles to sit up.
"Wanyin, don't move. You are feverish."
"Is that why everything is spinning...?" Lan Wanyin grimaces, eyes narrowing as he turns his head and presses his cheek against Jiang Xichen’s chest. "My arm... hurts..."
Arm?
Jiang Xichen frowns, glancing down at the scrapes and cuts on Lan Wanyin's palms. They are from their earlier fight with the Xuanwu, with most of them being fresh and deep, but there is nothing he can discern from them that is serious enough to cause an infection yet.
So it has to be another wound. The wound from the arrow?
Jiang Xichen reaches up hesitantly, tapping lightly on Lan Wanyin's right arm. The latter winces at the contact, flinching and groaning as he draws his brows together.
Jiang Xichen sucks in a sharp intake of breath and frantically peels away the wet layers of Gusu Lan’s robes to find a festering wound, its edges reddened, raw, bloodied and leaking yellow-tinged exudate.
"Xichen… it hurts..."
Jiang Xichen feels a twinge in his heart, a deep ache that blooms in him when he hears Lan Wanyin's voice twist with pain and discomfort.
He hugs Lan Wanyin to his chest. "Wanyin, where are the herbs?"
Jiang Xichen distinctly recalls the smell of fresh herbs under his bandage, and he had simply assumed that Lan Wanyin had treated his own injuries first, but what if—
"There is none left, I used it all up on... your injury..."
This idiot!
Jiang Xichen takes his hand and transfers him a bout of spiritual energy. It glows purple in the firelight, frazzling, and a little colour returns to Lan Wanyin's pallid face.
Lan Wanyin shivers, teeth chattering, as he buries his face deeper into Jiang Xichen's chest and huddles for warmth. Upon noticing that, Jiang Xichen hugs him even closer, and transfers him another bout of spiritual energy.
Truth be told, he barely has much left after the exhausting fight with the Xuanwu, but there is no way Jiang Xichen would sit by and do nothing when Lan Wanyin is so ill and vulnerable right now.
"Don't give me anymore... I am fine..." Lan Wanyin croaks hoarsely.
"Don't speak," Jiang Xichen insists, ignoring all of Lan Wanyin's fervent protests as he continues transferring him spiritual energy. The continuous faint crackle of purple sparks is oddly comforting in the thundering silence of the cave. "Sleep."
"I don't want to sleep..." Lan Wanyin insists, though his eyes are steadily slipping close. "Sing me something?"
"You are so demanding today," Jiang Xichen chuckles, but the timbre of his laugh is strained. "I can't sing. But if I had my xiao now, I would definitely play something for you."
Lan Wanyin smiles, but it is just a slight upturn of the corners of his lips. "Mn... I heard that you are good at it..."
Jiang Xichen laughs at that, and Lan Wanyin's breath evens out.
“Well when we get out of here and you get better, you can compose something, and I’ll play it for you.”
Lan Wanyin nods at that. “Okay.”
They lapse into silence then, with only the faint crackle of Jiang Xichen's spiritual energy in the background, and just as he is almost certain that the younger man has fallen asleep, Lan Wanyin speaks again.
"Would you... please tell me a story...?"
"Which story do you want to hear?"
"My mother used to tell me stories about the stars... Do you know any?"
Jiang Xichen shakes his head. "No."
"Mother once said that each star represents an immortal, and they watch over us from above... So someday, when I manage to cultivate to immortality..."
Jiang Xichen pauses, his posture stiffening. "Wanyin, you want to become an immortal?"
Lan Wanyin tilts his head. "You don't want to?"
"I—" Jiang Xichen trails off, unsure of what to reply. He hasn't told anyone about this before, because he is never sure of how his family and friends would take his stance on the matter. It's undeniably strange after all, to have a cultivator who doesn't want to cultivate to immortality, since that is the main reason for many.
But if it is Lan Wanyin, if it's him now, would he understand?
Jiang Xichen exhales breathily.
"No, I never wanted to become a cultivator. I just never had the luxury of choosing. But now, if I could redo it all over again, I'd rather be a commoner living in a remote area, just farming and planting whatever I want and need. There would be no Qishan Wen Sect, no territorial wars, no Sect duties. Just me and the people I love. Just me and you."
Jiang Xichen looks down at the sleeping figure of Lan Wanyin in his arms, and threads his fingers gingerly through Lan Wanyin's hair, gently brushing the ebony strands matted to his forehead away.
He rocks Lan Wanyin gently, coaxing him into a deeper lull, until the purple glow of his spiritual energy frazzles, until the small fire dies out, until the boulder blocking the entrance rolls away, and help arrives in the form of Wei Wuxian, his juniors, and Lan Wangji.
Notes:
1. Hour of hai/hài shí (亥时): nine at night | Hour of mao/mǎo shí (卯时): five in the morning Back
2. Someone who practiced inedia gains the ability to live without consuming food, and in some cases, water. Cultivators in mdzs-verse are able to do this for short periods of time. Back
***
The end notes scene features a little memory trip into the past to show when and why Lan Wanyin crafted the token for as a return gift. Sadly, Jiang Xichen never exactly found out what that token actually is and never did really use it, but miscommunication is an important albeit painful aspect of MDZS anyway, so...
Lan Wanyin cradles the delicate hairpin in his hand before inserting it into his hairdo.
The hint of purple in the lavender jade brings out the blue hues in his eyes, and Lan Wanyin happily runs his finger along the sculpt of the blooming lotus flower at the end of the ornament.
Wei Wuxian had informed him that it is a gift from Jiang Xichen—one that he had personally crafted from scratch—and the thought that the other man would put so much effort into making a gift for him just makes him so unbelievably happy. The warm emotions bubbling in his chest overflow then, leaking out into the form of a smile that Lan Wanyin struggles to suppress.
“It would certainly be too embarrassing to wear this out in public, right?” Lan Wanyin asks no one in particular while Love rolls away from Jasmine and Princess and trots across the room to curl up in Lan Wanyin’s lap. “Do you think my feelings for Xichen-ge will be too obvious if I wear the hairpin? It would be, wouldn’t it?”
Love huffs in response, nuzzling her nose against Lan Wanyin’s robes.
Lan Wanyin scoffs, reaching down to scratch Love behind her ears.
“Lan er-gongzi, I have brought the white jade that you requested for. Are you sure you want to make another jade token from scratch? I could always ask someone else for a ready-made one.”
“It is fine. That would be too much trouble so I’ll do it myself,” Lan Wanyin replies coolly to the disciple through the door. Truth be told, the design on the jade token barely matters. What the barrier erected around Cloud Recesses recognises is the type and quality of the jade itself. Hence, all the jade tokens for the main Lan family are crafted by a specific type of white jade, and this… this is the return gift that Lan Wanyin wants to give Jiang Xichen.
A free entry into Cloud Recesses whenever he wants.
In that way, even if he can’t go to Lotus Pier anytime soon, Jiang Xichen can still always come to visit him here.
Chapter 13: Remorse I
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
<FLASHBACK>
"Ge, you're awake!"
It is akin to the end to a nightmare when Jiang Xichen cracks open his bleary eyes to a familiar ceiling and Wei Wuxian's grinning face.
He has no idea how long he was unconscious for, but he is now back at Lotus Pier, lying in his own bed. It is just like any other normal day, as if the whole episode with the Wens and the entire fight with the Xuanwu had never happened. However, the pounding headache at his temple and the numbing ache spreading up the side of his injured leg suggest otherwise.
Jiang Xichen groans as he struggles to push himself up on his elbows. His limbs are weak and his throat is too dry. Wei Wuxian is by his side in the next moment, helping him to sit up.
"Ge, don't move too much. You need to rest, you had quite a few severe injuries, and your spiritual energy was so depleted when we found you that it took us a nearly a week to break your fever!"
A week? He had been unconscious for so long?
Jiang Xichen immediately swings his feet over the edge of the bed. "I'm fine. Did you bring Wanyin back to Lotus Pier too? How is his condition? Has his fever broken?"
Wei Wuxian opens his mouth, all prepared to answer, but is interrupted by the opening of the wooden door to their shared bedroom.
“Calm down, A-Huan. Lan er-gongzi has made a full recovery. He woke up a day before you did and just left Lotus Pier yesterday with Hanguang-jun,” Jiang Yanli answers as she steps into the room holding a tray with a large white porcelain jar and several empty bowls. The delicious smell of her famous lotus root and pork rib soup wafts through the room in an instant when she lifts the lid off the jar and ladles the contents into a bowl for Jiang Xichen.
There are huge chunks of ribs in it, each piece so perfectly cooked that the tender meat simply falls off the bone. The taste is even better and richer than what Jiang Xichen remembers, with just the right amount of flavour and spice in every mouthful.
“Well, truth be told, I never thought I would see the day when our A-Huan would be this worried over someone.”
“That’s right, that’s right! Shijie, can you believe it? Ge just woke up and the first thing he talks about is Lan-xiong!”
Jiang Xichen chokes.
Jiang Yanli claps her hands together in earnest. “Oh? Then it seems like it is much more than just a simple infatuation.”
“He’s completely mesmerised!” Wei Wuxian tuts, pivoting on his heel to point an accusing finger at Jiang Xichen’s nose. “Tell me, if Lan-xiong and I both fall into the sea at the same time, who would you save?!”
Jiang Xichen blinks twice. “Well, I mean, Wanyin can’t swim well so…”
“Look, Shijie! Ge just totally said that he would abandon me for Lan-xiong! I'm so sad now, I need three bowls of your soup!"
"There there," Jiang Yanli plays along, and holds out a full bowl to the whining teen. “I will give our poor A-Xian four servings to make up for it.”
Jiang Xichen clears his throat dryly. “What are the two of you going on and on about? Wanyin is just a close friend. He is just like a… a younger brother to me.”
Wei Wuxian and Jiang Yanli turn to Jiang Xichen at once, eyeing him sceptically.
A long pregnant silence passes between the trio.
“Shijie, should we tell him...?”
“A-Xian, I think some matters of the heart have to be worked out on their own.”
“But just look at him. Does it seem like he will ever arrive at the correct conclusion without some external help?”
Jiang Yanli sighs, staring forlornly at her younger brother, then wordlessly slides another bowl of soup to Wei Wuxian.
Jiang Xichen raises a brow. “A-Jie, you are pampering him too much. Wei Wuxian didn't do anything at all."
Wei Wuxian sticks out his tongue at him. "Bold of you to assume that I didn't do much. Who do you think nursed Lan Zhan back to health? Who do you think rounded up everyone and rushed to Dust-Creek Mountain the moment they heard you're stuck there?"
"Ah, yes yes, Wei Wuxian is the most amazing cultivator ever. No one can hold a candle to his greatness."
"Damn straight."
Wei Wuxian slaps him on the shoulder in retaliation, and they both burst out in peals of good-natured laughter. Jiang Yanli takes in the everyday scene of her two bickering brothers and gracefully raises her sleeve to her lips, hiding her smile behind the soft pastel fabric.
She had been worried sick when the Jiang disciples that left with her younger brother all returned way before the indoctrination period was supposed to end, crying and begging for them to immediately send a rescue team to Qishan. Wei Wuxian had left with Lan Wangji at once, while Jiang Yanli remained behind to tend to the wounds of the injured disciples.
They had told her stories about the ferocious beast which left her feeling uneasy for days until Wei Wuxian finally returned home with Jiang Xichen in tow.
Jiang Xichen was injured, covered with scrapes and cuts of all sizes, including a large but healing wound on his leg. The only thing that was of immediate concern is how low his spiritual energy was, and how unstable his golden core had become. It took the elders, their father and Wei Wuxian two days to regulate Jiang Xichen's qi back to normal and another one to ensure that his core is completely cleared of resentment energy and is fully stabilised again.
On that same day, the Second Young Master of the Lan Sect also regained consciousness. He insisted on remaining by Jiang Xichen's bedside the entire time, only leaving once to inform Jiang Fengmian about the details of the entire fight—from how the Wens insisted that they lure the beast out with fresh blood, to how Jiang Xichen held Wen Chao hostage to help them escape, and also how they finally defeated the Xuanwu.
Lan Wanyin stayed by Jiang Xichen's bedside for three whole days thereafter, until Lan Wangji insisted that they had to return home.
"Please send a message to Cloud Recesses when he wakes up," Lan Wanyin tells Jiang Yanli moments before departing from Lotus Pier, and she has just left the room to send them a letter, moments before their father drops by.
Jiang Xichen sets his empty bowl down and quickly rises on shaky feet to greet Jiang Fengmian. "A-Die."
"Jiang-shushu," Wei Wuxian scrambles to greet the Sect Leader as well, then helps Jiang Xichen sit back down on the edge of the bed. "Are the Wen Sect's people still not returning G- Shixiong's sword?"
Jiang Fengmian lets out a defeated sigh. "I have gone to Qishan twice this week hoping to seek an audience with Sect Leader Wen, but they have been too busy celebrating."
Wei Wuxian blinks. "Celebrating what?"
"That Wen Chao had single-handedly killed the Xuanwu of Slaughter."
Wei Wuxian makes a face. "Those Wen dogs are spouting nonsense as usual. Do they have no shame? Shixiong is clearly the one that killed it and they're just stealing his credit at this point! Just how much lower can they sink?!"
Jiang Xichen places a hand on Wei Wuxian's shaking shoulder. "It's fine. It’s not worth it to start a war with them over such a measly thing. Besides, the one that killed the Xuanwu is Wanyin."
Jiang Fengmian answers them with a contemplative hum under his breath. "Interesting. Lan er-gongzi told me that you were the one who killed it, Xichen. So who was it, really?”
Jiang Xichen pauses at the revelation, then slowly, his stunned expression melts into a smile.
“I suppose it would be more accurate to call it a team effort. I went into the beast’s shell and lured it out. Wanyin was waiting for it alone outside, and he was the one that held on for six entire hours. Anyone could and would have done what I did, but without Wanyin’s Chord Assassination technique, we would have never been able to kill it.”
Jiang Fengmian's gaze softens. “I see. Lan er-gongzi has succinctly recounted the details of the fight earlier. Well done, Xichen."
Jiang Xichen snaps his gaze up to the other man, his eyes wide with surprise and anticipation upon hearing his father's words.
It isn’t that Jiang Fengmian rarely praises him, but it is never quite like this, because his father's compliments usually come with a catch—with something that ties it back to the Sect instead of directly to Jiang Xichen himself.
And just as Jiang Xichen had predicted, his father adds on to his prior statement.
"As expected of a Sect Heir. You really do understand and exemplify the motto of our Jiang Sect well."
Jiang Xichen forces a smile onto his face, keeping the corners lifted despite the blossoming ache in his chest from a mixture of anger and disappointment—anger at himself for expecting something more, and disappointment at his father for being so predictable.
"Yes, A-Die. It is my duty."
The atmosphere in the room grows a tad suffocating with Jiang Xichen's uncharacteristically terse response and Wei Wuxian immediately chimes in to break the silence, knocking shoulders with the latter and offering him a smirk.
"Of course Shixiong understands the motto well! He is the man who will become the next Sect Leader while I'll be his right-hand man! Together, we would be unbeatable. Right?”
Jiang Xichen returns Wei Wuxian's playful smirk with a genuine smile. "Mn."
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
Jiang Xichen remains in his room to recuperate and he sees a myriad of guests dropping by over the course of the week.
His sister usually stops by in the morning with breakfast and to wake Wei Wuxian up. His juniors mostly visit during lunch, bringing him fresh lotus seeds as gifts.
His father has only come over once more since, but his mother, Yu Ziyuan, drops by every other day with a bowl of her special handmade spicy wontons, made exactly in the way Jiang Xichen loves.
He accepts the food gratefully this time as well. "A-Niang's chaoshou1 is the best in Yunmeng."
"Flattery wouldn't get you anywhere," Yu Ziyuan snaps as she pinches his cheek harshly. "Honestly, every time I see you nowadays I am reminded of how cold you were and how dead you looked when Wei Ying brought you back from Qishan. Do you have any idea how worried I was?"
Jiang Xichen smiles sheepishly. "Sorry, A-Niang."
He had heard all the different variations of his mother's lecture about this same topic over the past few days but he can't bring himself to tell her that because he knows that behind her harsh tone is a mother's caring heart, and it is incredibly heartwarming to listen to her regardless of how she words it.
"You are not allowed to be so rash in the future, do you hear me?" Yu Ziyuan thunders. "I know exactly why you threatened that spineless Wen brat and stayed behind in the cave, but you have to think more clearly and rationally before you act. How many times do I have to say it before you finally understand? Your one weakness is that you are too soft-hearted. Follow your brain, not your heart!"
Jiang Xichen bows his head apologetically. "Sorry, A-Niang."
"Really, of all the traits that you could have picked up from him…”
Jiang Xichen's smile falters at that.
As if sensing that her son's mood has soured, Yu Ziyuan then withdraws her hand swiftly and rises to leave. "Finish your food and rest for today. Your injuries seem to have mostly healed so you better start joining in with the training regime starting tomorrow."
"Yes, A-Niang."
After the chaos at the Xuanwu hunt, the ‘Sector of Indoctrination’ at Qishan had disintegrated completely, and all the remaining disciples were sent back to their Sects. However, at the same time, the Wens have also started executing their full-on plan to take over the Cultivation World and implemented laws to limit the night-hunting area for each Sect.
Yunmeng Jiang is left with the smallest area—courtesy of Wen Chao's biasness against Jiang Xichen, and they decided to simply take the opportunity to focus on fortifying their defences, just in case Wen Chao tried to launch an attack to get back at Jiang Xichen.
In addition, Yu Ziyuan also insisted on sending Jiang Yanli off to Meishan Yu, while simultaneously barring Wei Wuxian and Jiang Xichen from even taking a single step out of Lotus Pier.
With nothing else to do, Jiang Xichen decides to hole himself up in his room and secretly tackles a new project in his free time—embroidery.
Embroidery is something that Jiang Xichen never expected to be stumped on. His sister had made it look deceptively easy and now that she is away in Meishan, Jiang Xichen only has the instruction books she left behind for reference. Thankfully, he has the basics for sewing a simple sachet down pat and his only issue right now is deciding what design he should embroider on the front.
Clouds and lotus flowers are the first to come to mind, but Jiang Xichen wants something more unique. It has to be something that is just as symbolic and equally as pretty as the object he intends to put in it—the jade item Wanyin gave him.
Jiang Xichen raises the wooden hoop to eye level, peering contemplatively at the blank fabric canvas before letting out a huge dramatic sigh and lowering it again. The motion reveals the back of the youngest Yunmeng Jiang disciple—their sixth shidi, Ye Yunxiao,2 who had joined the Sect not too long ago.
The boy is standing at the edge of the lotus pond, his posture rigid and his brows furrowed, painting a picture of melancholy so immense that Jiang Xichen can’t help but call out to the boy.
“Yunxiao!”
Ye Yunxiao whirls around immediately, bowing his head without a pause. “Da-shixiong.”
Jiang Xichen raises a brow, pleasantly surprised. “How did you know it was me?”
“In the whole Yunmeng Jiang Sect, Da-shixiong is the only one who calls this disciple by his name. Everyone else usually refers to me as xiao-liu.”3
“Would you prefer for me to call you that then?”
Ye Yunxiao shakes his head. "My grandmother gave me this name. I can barely remember her face now. I do not wish to forget the only thing she left me too."
Jiang Xichen sets the hoop in his hand down on the table.
Ye Yunxiao is the child he and Wei Wuxian brought home from a travelling acrobatic troupe. They chanced upon the young boy getting beaten up by the troupe leader for failing to perform well, and decided to pay off Ye Yunxiao’s debts in his stead.
They learned that he hails from a small nameless fishing village all the way up north from the boy himself much later. His parents passed from an accident at sea, leaving the defenceless young child alone with his ailing grandmother. Knowing that it would be physically and financially impossible for her to care for such a young child alone, Ye Yunxiao then decided to join the acrobatic troupe passing by their village, and used the money from it to request for his neighbour to care for his grandmother.
Jiang Xichen had tried his best to locate said village after hearing the story, but to no avail. There is way too little information at his disposal, and with the knowledge that Ye Yunxiao probably had nowhere else to go, Jiang Xichen decided to convince his parents to take the boy in.
However, it is only now that he realises with a start that he had never asked for Ye Yunxiao's own opinion.
Does he really rather stay at Yunmeng?
"Da-shixiong, you know, my village is filled with wisteria trees, and I always thought that the one in my home's backyard had the prettiest flowers ever, but recently, somehow… I find myself thinking that lotus flowers are quite beautiful too."
Jiang Xichen's breath hitches.
Ye Yunxiao averts his gaze. "Is it weird?"
"No, not at all, because it simply means that you are starting to think of Yunmeng as your home. If anything, this shixiong is elated," Jiang Xichen explains, then picks up the embroidery hoop once again. He had absolutely no inspiration earlier but Jiang Xichen thinks he knows exactly what design he wants now—wisteria symbolises new beginnings and immortality after all.
"Say, Yunxiao, you are turning twelve this year, right? Usually, this would be the age that us Yunmeng Jiang disciples go on our first night-hunt, but as you know, unfortunately, we have the situation with the Wens now."
Ye Yunxiao shuffles his feet. "It is alright. Yunxiao still has a long way to go in terms of skill."
"Nonsense," Jiang Xichen shoots the younger boy a rueful smile, and beckons him over. "Once this whole thing blows over, I will personally take you on a night-hunt. We can go all the way up north to try and find your village together too."
The young boy perks up at that, his eyes immediately widening in joy. "Really?"
"Yes, I promise."
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
Days turn into weeks and weeks gradually ease into months. Yet, there are still no signs of any movement from the Wens.
The disciples start to skive off on training whenever Yu Ziyuan is too busy to monitor them. Even the seniors stationed at the gates grow more lax with each passing day, and constantly take turns to sneak back into the compounds of Lotus Pier to escape the scathing heat from the hot sun.
Wei Wuxian is a bad influence on them all as well, constantly lazing around with plates of chilled watermelon or attempting to round up disciples for another game of kite shooting. On the other hand, Jiang Xichen secludes himself in his room, away from Wei Wuxian's prying eyes and gossiping mouth, adamant on finishing the embroidery project before the month ends, and it is only when he completes it two days in advance does he exit the room with the new sachet hanging on his waistbelt, on the other side of his signature Yunmeng Jiang clarity bell.
The sachet has the design of a branch of purple wisteria flowers against a backdrop of wispy clouds. The gift from Lan Wanyin is safe and secure inside, and the weight of two items combined is oddly comforting as he makes his way to the training grounds.
"What? We are playing shooting kites again? Wei-shixiong… We are already sick of it! Don’t you have something else in mind?"
Loud complaints carry over with the wind, making Jiang Xichen chuckle.
He had never thought that he would see the day when the disciples grow tired of their favourite game. However, with most of the territory around Yunmeng claimed by the Wens, all of them probably have very little to do except indulge in kite shooting day after day to pass time—and as expected, all the disciples still decide to join in despite their earlier protests, because the prospect of having something to do is better than none.
Only Ye Yunxiao remains on the training grounds, determinedly focused on his training.
A quiver of arrows lies by his side and Jiang Xichen stops in place behind him, crossing his arms and watching contemplatively as Ye Yunxiao grabs a new arrow and steadies himself.
The boy starts out strong, sliding his feet shoulder width apart and settling comfortably into the Yunmeng Jiang trademark archery stance. There are several beginner mistakes Jiang Xichen can pinpoint with Ye Yunxiao’s stance at once, such as how he is setting his front shoulder a tad too high, and how he is not channelling sufficient core strength to hold his posture—both of which Jiang Xichen clearly remembers Lan Wanyin initially making too.
However, it is obvious that Ye Yunxiao definitely lacks a lot more experience than Lan Wanyin. Firstly, he doesn’t pull the bowstring back to full draw, and secondly, his body jerks involuntarily on the recoil. It sends the arrow out at an angle, and it embeds itself on the far edge of the target board, completely off-centre.
Ye Yunxiao makes a disgruntled sound under his breath, furrowing his brows.
Jiang Xichen takes that opportunity to approach him.
“Yunxiao, you are training alone today?”
Ye Yunxiao spins around on his heel and hastily bows his head when he notices the Sect Heir. “Da-shixiong, I… If you are looking for Wei-shixiong, he is off shooting kites with everyone else in the front yard.”
Jiang Xichen chuckles. “I am just out for a stroll to stretch my legs since I have been cooped up for a long time.”
Ye Yunxiao lifts his head at Jiang Xichen’s words and notices the brand new pouch dangling from Jiang Xichen's waistbelt. "Wisteria…?"
"I was inspired by our previous conversation," Jiang Xichen admits sheepishly, earning a tiny smile from his aloof shidi. The corners of Ye Yunxiao's lips twitch up fractionally, a sense of nostalgia shrouding his features as he takes in the sight of the blooming purple embroidered flowers.
Ye Yunxiao snaps out of it a moment later and clears his throat awkwardly. "Is Da-shixiong not going to join the game?"
Jiang Xichen lifts a finger to his chin and tilts his head to the side, deep in thought, then lets out a long sigh in the next second. “Probably not. What about you? Are you not joining them too?”
Ye Yunxiao hides his calloused hands behind his back. “My archery skills are not on par with everyone else’s yet. I would only hold my team back.”
Jiang Xichen glances from the arrow on the target board back to Ye Yunxiao.
“Well, not necessarily,” Jiang Xichen answers smoothly and retrieves a spare bow from the rack, giving it a brief round of inspection before using it. He slips into Ye Yunxiao’s flawed archery stance instantly, then proceeds by making gradual adjustments while explaining the changes. “Your basic posture was alright, but you were just a little too tense. Your shoulders should be relaxed, and your core engaged. Plant your feet firmly into the ground to give yourself leverage to withstand the recoil."
Ye Yunxiao nods, tightening his grip around the bow in his hand.
"Archery should not be about speed for you at this point, Yunxiao. Take your time to pull to full draw and steady your arms before releasing the arrow," Jiang Xichen continues speaking as he goes through the familiar motions. He holds the pose for a full second, allowing Ye Yunxiao enough time to link his earlier words to the visuals, before releasing the arrow.
It whizzes forward in a straight line and meets the bullseye right in the centre. Ye Yunxiao inhales sharply, eyes widening in a mix of surprise and admiration.
Jiang Xichen moves to the side. "Now it's your turn."
Ye Yunxiao takes a step backwards. "I can't possibly…"
"You can, you just have to clear your mind. The less you think and doubt yourself, the better you will be able to focus, and the more precise your shots will be."
The young boy glances down at his shaking hands. "But…"
"Trust me, Yunxiao."
Ye Yunxiao swallows thickly, then awkwardly walks up to where Jiang Xichen had been standing. He sucks his bottom lip in, narrowing his eyes in concentration as he stiffly falls into position again. He takes the time and effort to correct his stance according to Jiang Xichen's earlier instructions step by step.
"You are on the right track," Jiang Xichen acknowledges with a smile as he gently pulls the boy's shoulders back, urging him to straighten his back further. "Relax."
Ye Yunxiao gives him a curt nod.
He holds the bow at full draw in a similar fashion to how Jiang Xichen did earlier. His arms are trembling slightly, straining from the effort of keeping the bowstring pulled back, but his hands are a lot more steady this time round, and Jiang Xichen watches with pride as the released arrow finds its way much closer to the bullseye.
"I did it," Ye Yunxiao gasps, staring in disbelief from the arrow to the bow in his hand, then turns to Jiang Xichen.
"I did it," Ye Yunxiao repeats again then, as if he still can't believe it himself.
Jiang Xichen chuckles, patting the boy on his shoulder.
He has a soft spot for this particular shidi. He respects how Ye Yunxiao takes everything so seriously and is always keen to learn more—and Jiang Xichen is eager to teach him more, to see this boy grow into a respectable cultivator.
"Well done, Yunxiao."
Ye Yunxiao grins then, the first genuine and bold display of emotion Jiang Xichen had ever witnessed the boy making.
"Thank you for the advice, Da-shixiong."
Jiang Xichen curls the corners of his lips into a teasing smirk, and points up at the kite that is soaring high in the sky. "Well well well, it's still a little too early to thank me. You can save your appreciation for later, after you manage to shoot a further and moving target down, like that kite."
Ye Yunxiao opens and closes his mouth several times, as if he wants to say something in response, but eventually decides against it and simply turns to grab a new arrow.
He shoots it with less hesitation this time, and Jiang Xichen smiles at the sight, clearly impressed with the boy's confidence and fortitude.
This is a disciple that will definitely do Yunmeng Jiang proud, Jiang Xichen finds himself thinking as Ye Yunxiao's arrow speeds through the air, piercing into the kite, right through the middle of the painted golden circle.
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
"Why isn't xiao-liu back yet?" Wei Wuxian questions as they stare at the unmoving gates of Lotus Pier.
Ye Yunxiao had volunteered to pick the kite up after it fell outside of Lotus Pier, but it has been an unnaturally long time since. Even if the kite landed further than they thought, Ye Yunxiao should still have been back by now.
Jiang Xichen sighs, rising to his feet and dusting his clothes off. "I'll head out to find him."
"But Ge, didn't Yu-furen forbid us from leaving Lotus Pier? She'll kill you if she finds out that you snuck out."
Jiang Xichen rolls his eyes. "And she would kill you if she finds out you are skiving off here instead of leading the disciples in training like you should be doing."
Wei Wuxian groans, flipping onto his belly atop the grass. "But it's so hot! And besides, Yu-furen will never find out. Jiang-shushu went to the Wen Sect again this morning. She should be too busy dealing with sect affairs right now to care about me.”
"That's what you might think but—"
The rest of Jiang Xichen's words are drowned out by a series of loud yells.
The disciples that are supposed to guard the gates come running into Lotus Pier, bruised and bleeding, shouting in an urgent tone. "Da-shixiong, Wei-shixiong, something bad happened!”
Wei Wuxian leaps up onto his feet immediately. "What's wrong?"
“Xiao-liu has been taken away!”
Wei Wuxian picks up Suibian which he propped up against a tree before they started their kite shooting game. “Who took him? Why did they take him away?”
The boy that previously spoke answers Wei Wuxian again, in between loud breathless pants. "It's... It's Wen Chao! He said that the kite xiao-liu shot down is… is an act of treason and had hidden motives. He ordered his people to detain him… T-The other seniors sent us back here to get help!”
Wei Wuxian spits in anger and disgust. "Wen Chao, that bas—!"
Jiang Xichen holds a hand out, interrupting Wei Wuxian. "Wait. Knowing the Wens, they should be coming up to Lotus Pier next. Don’t say anything that they can potentially hold against us."
Everyone falls into an uneasy silence at that.
They understand what Jiang Xichen means. Rumours of what the Wens have done to a handful of other sects for badmouthing them are still fresh in everyone’s memories after all.
However, that is not the only thing that makes Jiang Xichen feel uneasy.
It is the fact that Wen Chao could have literally picked any other day to come to Lotus Pier over the past few months, yet he specifically chose today, the day when Jiang Fengmian is headed out to the Wen Sect. This brings up the question whether Wen Chao’s visit is specifically planned or purely a coincidence, and Jiang Xichen thinks it might be for the best that he doesn't let his guard down until he gets a clear answer.
“Split yourselves into three groups. The first one will—”
“What’s all the ruckus about? I can't even work in peace today!" Yu Ziyuan thunders as she storms out from the main hall, eyes flashing in anger while her elaborate violet robes trail elegantly behind her in the gentle breeze. She glares at each one of them in turn, then pauses when her gaze lands on Wei Wuxian. “What did you do again?”
Jiang Xichen takes a step forward, diverting his mother’s attention. “A-Niang, Wen Chao has captured our sixth shidi. There is also a possibility that Wen Zhuliu is here too."
Yu Ziyuan tenses slightly at the mention of the notorious Core-Melting Hand. Her right forefinger with Zidian twitches several times, but her countenance remains calm. "And? Why is there a need to kick up such a huge fuss? He was taken away, not killed."
As soon as she finishes her statement, a few dozen cultivators dressed in sun-patterned robes enter the compounds of Lotus Pier one after another. The one leading them is Wen Chao, looking every bit as pompous as Jiang Xichen remembers, and flanking the arrogant young master is his ever loyal dog, Wen Zhuliu, holding steadfastly on to a struggling Ye Yunxiao.
Yu Ziyuan narrows her eyes at the approaching entourage. “Why did you take a disciple of my Yunmeng Jiang Sect?”
“Take?” Wen Chao crosses his arms over his chest and gestures to Ye Yunxiao with a sharp jerk of his chin. “Do you mean this insolent brat we found outside? He has hidden intentions, but fret not, I have caught him red-handed for his treachery and will transfer him to a place where he will be taken care of.”
Jiang Xichen inclines his head. “What hidden intentions could a twelve year old possibly have?”
“I have proof!” Wen Chao announces, and waves a Wen Sect disciple holding a broken kite over. He grabs the toy from the cultivator and thrusts it out in front of himself. “Look carefully. This kite is the undeniable proof.”
A moment of silence passes through the crowd, only to be disrupted by Wei Wuxian's loud peals of laughter.
“But that kite is just a normal one-eyed monster. What proof can it be?”
“Do you think I’m blind?” Wen Chao snaps angrily, his face turning an ugly shade of red. He raises a hand and traces his finger around the design on the kite, analysing presumptuously. “Look at this. It’s obviously a golden circle!”
Yu Ziyuan raises a brow. “And?”
“Haven’t you realised it yet? The motif on this kite is a sun! Think about it, out of so many designs, why did he make it a golden one-eyed monster? Couldn’t he have made it any other shape and colour? Surely there are too many factors to make it a mere coincidence! So, in conclusion, he must have done it on purpose! This disciple of yours is using the game to indirectly imply that he wants to shoot down the sun! This is an act of great disrespect towards our Qishan Wen Sect!”
“I had no such intentions!” Ye Yunxiao denies, glaring at Wen Chao.
Wen Chao scoffs, returning the bruised boy's dark glare. “There is no way you can talk your way out of this. There is nothing else in the world that resembles a sun!”
“If your interpretation of a sun is simply golden and round, there are many other things that would fit the bill,” Jiang Xichen adds coolly, staring Wen Chao down with the glint of a challenge in his eyes.
Wei Wuxian snorts. “That’s right, that's right! Tangerines are also golden and round, but you eat so many of them at every Discussion Conference. Wouldn’t that make you treacherous too?”
The vein at Wen Chao’s temple throbs. “You—!”
“Enough!” Yu Ziyuan rages.
Everyone falls silent at once, and she continues speaking coldly. “So the reason why Wen er-gongzi came down here personally today is for such a kite?”
Wen Chao clears his throat. "Of course not! I come bearing orders from my father, the esteemed Wen Sect Leader, Wen Ruohan! To improve the quality of service and reduce the amount of response time needed, we have decided that it is imperative for us to set up supervision offices in every city!”
Wei Wuxian snorts, boldly speaking up against Wen Chao before Yu Ziyuan herself could. “I do not recall Yunmeng Jiang ever swearing allegiance to Qishan Wen, so why are you here in Lotus Pier for? Your Wen Sect has blatantly impinged into our Sect’s territory over and over again, and we have simply kept silent all this while. But now, what? You want us to help you choose a good fengshui4 spot in Yunmeng to build your dumbass supervision office too?”
“You are only half-right, servant boy," Wen Chao sneers. “We certainly require Yunmeng Jiang’s help with setting up the supervision office, but not with choosing a spot, because we already have one in mind! There is no better spot than this very place!”
Wei Wuxian’s brow twitches. Even Jinzhu and Yinzhu’s expressions also appear angered.
Yet, Wen Chao continues speaking as if he hasn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary. "So from now on, I declare that Lotus Pier is the supervision office of our Qishan Wen Sect at Yunmeng!”
A crack of purple sparks through the air as Yu Ziyuan's finger with Zidian twitches again. Her face is unbearably pale, as if she is trying her best to hold back her anger. On the other hand, Wei Wuxian’s face darkens, and his hand moves towards the hilt of his sword.
Wen Zhuliu takes a step forward as a silent threat, and Jiang Xichen immediately grabs onto Wei Wuxian’s arm to stop the latter from rashly drawing Suibian.
"Now that we have that out of the way, the first thing that we need to do is to change the motif," Wen Chao adds, gesturing for the Wen Sect disciples behind him to start filing out at once, moving towards the main hall. “Don’t you think that lotuses are far too outdated? We need something more eye-catching, brighter, and better... Ah, I know! How about a sun?"
Unable to hold her anger back any longer at the repeated insults to her home, Yu Ziyuan waves her hand fiercely and a brilliant ring of purple light shoots out of Zidian, the shape of the spiritual weapon morphing seamlessly into a whip that lashes through the air with a sharp crack.
A large portion of the Wen disciples on her left collapse immediately, groaning in pain.
Without missing a beat, the experienced female warrior rides the momentum and swishes her hand in the opposite direction as well, sending most of the foes to her right flying away.
"Who dares?!" Yu Ziyuan roars.
The air around her crackles, making her appear many times more menacing and fierce than how she seems to be in verbal depictions. Emboldened by Yu Ziyuan's display of power, the rest of the Yunmeng Jiang disciples in the area unsheathe their swords as well and instantly fall into formation.
They clearly outnumber the few Wen cultivators who are still left standing, and the unarmed Wen Chao immediately rushes to hide behind Wen Zhuliu. "W-We are just here for negotiations, how dare you attack us?!"
"Negotiations?!" Wei Wuxian spits, pointing his drawn Suibian at Wen Chao.
Jiang Xichen doesn't stop him this time—Wen Chao has made it clear why they are here, it's war.
“Don’t think that you have the upper hand!” Wen Chao shrieks, pulling a signal flare out from his sleeve. He shakes it furiously, trying to get it to light up. "Did you think that I would come here with just this many people? Let me tell you, we have troops surrounding Lotus Pier right now! When we send this out, they will storm up here and none of you will leave here alive!"
"I see. Then we just need to stop you from sending that out," Yu Ziyuan points out frostily, and with a flick of her hand, Zidian flashes out towards Wen Chao with the sole intention of seizing the cylindrical flare from him.
Wen Chao lets out a high-pitched scream and immediately cowers behind Wen Zhuliu, yelling at the older man to save him. Wen Zhuliu doesn’t show any form of response to Wen Chao verbally, but instead, simply reaches out and grabs the whip with his bare hands before it reaches his master.
Purple sparks creep up Wen Zhuliu’s arm, burning hot against his skin, yet Wen Zhuliu’s face remains perfectly impassive. Yu Ziyuan hesitates for a split second at that, stunned that Wen Zhuliu managed to hold on to Zidian at its full power without much difficulty.
A seemingly long moment of impasse stretches on between the two of them, and then—
“I got it!” Wen Chao screeches in joy and points the cylinder skywards. A light shoots out of it almost immediately after, flying straight up into the air and exploding in a large crimson Wen Sect motif.
A feeling of dread falls over the Yunmeng Jiang disciples all at once, and the dip in their morale is nearly palpable.
No one needs to put it into words because it is obvious at this very moment.
The tables have turned.
Even the fallen Wen Sect disciples from earlier understand this and scramble to get back onto their feet, brandishing their weapons wildly with a newfound confidence.
Wei Wuxian is the only one who is seemingly undeterred by the change in flow and charges towards Wen Chao without any ounce of hesitation, setting out to stop the latter before he manages to set off a second flare. However, a hit from Wen Zhuliu straight to his stomach sends Wei Wuxian sprawling a fair distance backwards and spitting out a mouthful of blood.
"Wei Wuxian!" Jiang Xichen yells, momentarily torn between the difficult decision to rush to the other man’s side or to confront Wen Zhuliu and Wen Chao despite being unarmed.
Wei Wuxian makes the decision for him. “I'm fine! Ge, stop that bastard from sending any more signals!”
It is definitely a slip of tongue when Wei Wuxian calls him ‘Ge’ in front of Yu Ziyuan, but none of them have any spare energy to pay it any mind right now, not when Wen Chao pulls out a second flare.
"Catch!" Wei Wuxian shouts, sending Suibian speeding forward with a sword incantation.
Jiang Xichen doesn’t lose any momentum and not a single one of his motions are superfluous. He doesn’t even need to look as he snatches Suibian out of the air, swiftly coating the sword that is built for speed with a blanket of spiritual energy, and allows it to propel him further forward, straight towards Wen Chao.
Yu Ziyuan catches on to what the two boys intend to do, and follows up by pouring even more of her own spiritual energy into Zidian as well, making the length of the whip buzz with energy.
It distracts the Core-Melting Hand long enough for Jiang Xichen to slip by him.
"W-W-Wen Zhuliu!" Wen Chao yowls, flinching and ducking to the best of his ability. However, he isn't nearly fast enough, and the tip of Suibian slices right across his arm, from his bicep up to the curve of his shoulder.
Wen Chao drops the flare with an ear-splitting scream and a flurry of insults directed towards his useless guard dog.
With a brief display of rare emotion, Wen Zhuliu's face darkens momentarily and he tightens his grip on Zidian, yanking it toward himself with a sudden burst of strength.
Needless to say, Yu Ziyuan's physical strength would never be able to rival Wen Zhuliu's, and she loses her balance immediately, tumbling towards the Core-Melting Hand's open palm.
Jiang Xichen reels back at the sight, and immediately throws himself between the two.
"A-Niang!"
Wen Zhuliu's palm meets his shoulder straight on, sending a burst of spiritual energy exploding right through him. Jiang Xichen had steeled himself for the expected blow, but the impact twisting through his entire body still takes him completely by surprise.
The counteracting wave of ice-cold qi from Wen Zhuliu wrecks through his meridians and sends him sprawling from the sheer force.
Blood spurts from Jiang Xichen's mouth.
Upon noticing that her son is injured, Yu Ziyuan roars in anger, and the intensity of the purple glow around Zidian grows exponentially, turning completely white.
It releases a sudden shockwave of pure energy out in a wide radius, blasting Wen Zhuliu, Wen Chao and the rest of the Wen disciples into the walls.
"Hold them back!" Yu Ziyuan hollers.
Jinzhu and Yinzhu respond without delay, pulling out two long, sizzling whips and begin fighting Wen Zhuliu. The other Jiang disciples join the fray as well, doing their utmost best to hold the Wens back.
With the created opportunity, Yu Ziyuan quickly scoops both the immobile Jiang Xichen and Wei Wuxian into her arms, and rushes to the pier.
There are always several small boats docked for usage by the Yunmeng Jiang disciples, and Yu Ziyuan hastily tosses them onto one of the small boats.
She pauses on the docks, hesitating, then jumps aboard as well.
"Once you make it out of Yunmeng, go to Meishan straight away and find your sister."
"A-Niang, I..."
"A-Huan, we don't have time for this!" Yu Ziyuan interrupts him harshly. Without missing a beat, she hastily pulls off her ring and slips it onto Jiang Xichen’s right forefinger. "Zidian has long since recognised you as its master. From now on, zidian will protect you in my stead—"
Jiang Xichen freezes, the stark realisation dawning on him a mere fraction of a second later. "No, A-Niang, I... I can't leave just like this. How can I simply run away in times like this? Lotus Pier is our home, we need to protect it! It is my duty to protect the sect!"
What would he be, as a Sect Heir, if the sect itself is gone?
"No, your duty is to stay alive! Without you, there will be no more Yunmeng Jiang! No matter whether it is as the sect leader's wife or as your mother, I cannot allow you to die here! Do you understand?"
Jiang Xichen swallows dryly, then shakes his head vehemently. His vision is blurry with unshed tears, and he can barely make out his mother's face through it.
"Do you understand?" Yu Ziyuan repeats, clutching desperately at Jiang Xichen’s uninjured shoulder. "You are my son, you won't be defeated from just this! Do you hear me?!"
Jiang Xichen opens and closes his mouth repeatedly, wanting to say something, to insist on staying on at Lotus Pier to fight, or to persuade his mother to come with them, but for the first time in his life, Jiang Xichen can't find the right words to express himself.
"Answer me! Do you understand?!"
Jiang Xichen clenches his hands into fists, feeling the weight of Zidian on his finger.
It is the weight of his duty, of his responsibilities, of his position as Sect Heir, and Jiang Xichen sucks in a deep ragged breath.
He understands why his mother is doing this. Jinzhu, Yinzhu, the disciples, and all of the Sect’s treasures are still inside Lotus Pier. It is impossible to evacuate them all within a short time, and they have no information about how many people Wen Chao has brought along with him.
So, there is no way Yu Ziyuan could leave.
As the mistress of Lotus Pier, Yu Ziyuan can’t possibly leave.
But perhaps selfishly, desperately, she wishes for her son to escape first, for her children to be safe—and Jiang Xichen slips his eyes close at the realisation, silently accepting his mother's decision.
He nods.
"Good boy," Yu Ziyuan says, all the tension leaving her body. She takes a step forward and cups Jiang Xichen's cheeks in her hands, staring intently at his face.
There are no tears in her eyes, but Jiang Xichen can sense the range of emotions overwhelming her from the slight trembling of her hands.
Yu Ziyuan remains silent for a long, long moment. Then suddenly, she pulls Jiang Xichen into a hug, tightening her arms around him and burying her face into his hair.
She holds him like this for a while, before drawing away and leaping back onto the docks.
Wei Wuxian clambers to his feet. "Yu-furen, there must be a way for us to get through this! As long as we are able to hold on until Jiang-shushu comes back, then surely—"
"Don't make such a huge fuss!" Yu Ziyuan snaps, glowering at Wei Wuxian. A rope of lighting shoots out from Zidian under her command, binding the latter's hands and feet together, rendering him immobile.
Ignoring Wei Wuxian’s muffled protests, she unsheathes her sword and swings it in an upwards motion, severing the thick rope mooring the boat to the pier.
"A-Huan, remember, no matter what happens, you must protect your sister. Both of you must protect your sister."
“A-Niang!” Jiang Xichen exclaims, his voice cracking, a stray tear trailing down his cheek as he scrambles over to the side of the boat, reaching out for his mother. However, his fingers miss his mother’s robes by mere inches as she sends the boat sailing out into the flow of the outgoing current with a simple wind talisman.
All at once, they drift several yards away, and Jiang Xichen falls backwards, knees buckling, eyes red-rimmed, staring resolutely at the distant figure of his mother, until she becomes a mere coloured speck in the distance—until she goes back within the gates of Lotus Pier with a flash of her purple robes.
Notes:
1. Chaoshou (抄手) is commonly refers to a Sichuan/Szechuan dish that has steamed, meat-filled dumplings (wontons) in chili oil. Some variations of it also uses vinegar to make it hot and sour, suanla (酸辣). Back
2. Yè Yúnxiāo 叶云逍 (Courtesy name)
- Sixth shidi of Yunmeng Jiang
- The Yè 叶 in his name means “leaf” while the Yún 云 refers to “cloud”. You might find the yún familiar because it is the same one that is used in Cloud Recesses (云深不知处) and in Yunmeng (云梦).
- His Xiāo 逍 comes from the term xiāo yáo zì zai (逍遥自在) which is translated to as “free and leisurely/unfettered”. Both the leaf and cloud aspects of his name ties in with the ‘freeness’ too, don’t you think?
- That being said, you know how I am when it comes to having names that reflects the exact opposite of what the characters end up being, so trust me when I say that YYX is not only supremely critical of himself and strives for perfection, he would also never be able to achieve that free and leisurely life his parents wished for him to... Back3. Xiao-liu (小六): literally translated to small-six. When used as a form of address it means something along the lines of sixth-junior. Back
4. Fengshui (風水) is a practice originally from ancient China. It uses energy forces to harmonize individuals with their surrounding environment, and many people still get fengshui masters to check the fengshui at new business locations and homes before purchasing or renting the place. In the original MDZS novel, it was also mentioned in the Yi City arc that Yi City has very bad fengshui. Back
***
There is no end notes scene for this chapter since we all need time to let the angst sink in. I originally intended to finish the whole Lotus Pier massacre in a single chapter but it was getting a little too long, so I had to cut it into half, oops.
I also added an original character, Ye Yunxiao, who is supposed to be the young sixth shidi but I made him older here (~twelve) and gave him a little backstory. He is definitely very mature, brave and hardworking for his tender age but I hope all of you would still love him enough despite his flaws and how little screentime he will get 🥺🥺🥺
Chapter 14: Remorse II
Notes:
Note that this chapter contains violence and gore, specifically decapitation and lingchi in the Yunmeng Jiang massacre. There is also mentions of mental breakdowns from Jiang Xichen. I have added 'Graphic Depictions Of Violence' as an archive warning just in case.
Please proceed with caution,
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
<FLASHBACK>
"Ge! You can undo this, right? You've practised with Zidian before, so you can do it, right?!" Wei Wuxian hollers, gritting his teeth together as he squirms and strains under the bindings, struggling to stand. He fails, falling back onto his side with a low grunt of pain. Despite this, Wei Wuxian still doesn’t give up trying. "We have to go back! I have Suibian, and you have Zidian now! I'm sure if we join forces, we can win!"
Jiang Xichen remains silent, staring wordlessly back in the direction of Lotus Pier, though his mother’s figure is no longer visible—and very soon, even the sprawling buildings that make up his home will vanish from view.
"We can't leave Yu-furen there to fend off the Wens alone!"
Jiang Xichen’s fingers twitch at Wei Wuxian's words.
He is torn between the decision of following his mother’s orders to escape and stay safe, or to fulfil his contrasting desire to just be selfish for once and simply follow his heart. But he knows exactly which option he should be choosing. He understands that the reason why his mother did not bind him with Zidian is because she trusted him to be mature enough to leave as told, but he desperately, desperately wants to turn back, so much so that it is taking all of his composure to force himself to remain seated.
“Ge, do you hear me? Lotus Pier is our home! We can't just sit by and watch the Wens trample all over it like this! We need to protect it and everyone there!" Wei Wuxian yells, taking the words straight from Jiang Xichen’s own lips.
Jiang Xichen grits his teeth, digging his blunt nails into his palm and drawing blood.
Why? Why is Wei Wuxian the one that is saying all of this?
It should be him. He is the Sect Heir, he is the one that should be putting his all on the line to protect Lotus Pier, his Sect, his home. It is his duty to leave as much as it is for him to stay, and Jiang Xichen hates that it is ingrained in him to always look at the big picture, to be careful, to think, to analyse, to plan, when all he wants to do now is to act.
His mother had said that she wouldn't allow him to sacrifice himself here for her, but those sentiments go both ways. As her son, Jiang Xichen does not want her to put herself on the line for him either! He wants to save her, he wants to protect his sect, he wants to destroy the Wens—all of these are things Jiang Xichen knows is near impossible for him to accomplish alone.
‘Attempt the impossible’.
The motto of the Yunmeng Jiang Sect hangs over him now, almost mockingly, as if ridiculing the fact that Jiang Xichen is running away when all they have to do is stall for time until his father returns because there is no way Wen Chao and Wen Zhuliu would be a match for a sect leader after all.
Jiang Xichen knows this, and yet for some reason, he still can’t bring himself to turn the boat back to the pier. Is this solely because of the promise he made with his mother? Or perhaps it’s… fear?
Is this what fear feels like—shaking shoulders and clammy, trembling hands?
Jiang Xichen swallows thickly.
"Ge, look!" Wei Wuxian exclaims again, but there is something different in his tone this time round. Instead of urgent desperation, there is something that sounds similar to hope in it now. "Isn’t that Jiang-shushu?"
Jiang Xichen tears his gaze up at once, eyes wide in surprise. He instantly locates the familiar sight of his father's back amidst a crowd of fluttering purple robes.
The Sect Leader is flying on his sword and headed straight for Lotus Pier. Behind him are several senior Yunmeng Jiang Sect disciples he brought with him on his trip, each one of them experienced and capable.
"A-Die..."
Jiang Xichen sucks in a deep breath, steeling himself. It is as if the fog of uncertainty shrouding his mind clears all at once.
His father is here. They can win, they will win.
Hope swells from within Jiang Xichen at that realisation, giving him the final push that helps him make up his mind.
He has to go back.
The air crackles with purple and Zidian withdraws itself from Wei Wuxian, slinking back into a ring on Jiang Xichen's forefinger.
Wei Wuxian immediately scrambles to his feet, reaching for Suibian that has slid to a far corner of the boat with the rocky currents.
Jiang Xichen sneaks up behind him, perfectly silent, and knocks Wei Wuxian out with a swift blow to the back of his neck.
The latter's eyes widen fractionally, a flurry of emotions dancing across them, and Jiang Xichen barely manages to catch Wei Wuxian's surprise at the betrayal before those gleaming silvery-grey orbs turn dark.
Jiang Xichen supports the unconscious boy's limp body and lays him gently down in the middle of the boat.
"Be safe, didi," Jiang Xichen whispers, his voice lost to the howling winds as he mounts Suibian and flies back towards Lotus Pier.
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
A sea of brilliant red stretches on as far as Jiang Xichen's eyes could perceive, dotted periodically by a familiar shade of purple.
He stumbles backwards, glancing around frantically, but all he sees is a mound of dismembered corpses, each one more gruesome than the previous.
There are a handful who are clad in the Wen Sect's trademark red-lined robes, but the majority that catches Jiang Xichen's attention are the bodies of fellow Yunmeng Jiang disciples who have grown up together with him—strewn carelessly across the ground where they lay, bloodied and lifeless.
Jiang Xichen exhales sharply, the feeling of building tears prickling the reddened corners of his eyes as he rips his gaze away from them.
This is not the time to grieve yet, Jiang Xichen tells himself sternly, tightening his grip around Suibian as he trudges forward, stepping over rows of broken body parts to enter the compounds of Lotus Pier.
The fighting is much louder inside here. The clang of iron against iron is sharp and piercing despite the chorus of ear-splitting screams, and it makes a shiver of dread run down Jiang Xichen's spine.
It can't possibly have been that long since his mother sent him away from Lotus Pier right? How could they have lost this many people already?
"How dare you sneak up on me, you stupid brat!”
Jiang Xichen moves reflexively at the words, and steps directly between a bloodthirsty Wen cultivator and Ye Yunxiao just in time to intercept an attack. He parries the incoming blow with the precision of an experienced fighter, and thrusts his sword out in the next moment.
The tip of Suibian pierces into the chest of the Wen Cultivator, penetrating through the vital organs before Jiang Xichen swings the blade skywards in a wide arc, bringing with it a crescent of crimson blood.
The Wen cultivator falls over, his upper body rending into two. Low gurgling noises come from the broken lump of flesh, each cry weak and muffled, before it completely dies out.
Jiang Xichen stumbles backwards, almost dropping Suibian.
It is the first time he had taken someone’s life with his own two hands and simply staring down at the corpse reminds him of the horrid sensations that linger in his hands. However, it isn't the feeling of how the blade cuts through flesh and sinew that takes him aback, but instead, it is the thought of how similar killing a live human is to butchering animals that throws him off balance.
Is this what war is supposed to be like?
"Da-shixiong…?" Ye Yunxiao exclaims in a mix of confusion and gratitude.
"Where-" Jiang Xichen begins, his voice hoarse and cracking. "Where are my parents?"
"At the training field," Ye Yunxiao answers in a small voice, and Jiang Xichen forces a smile onto his lips in reply. He pulls Ye Yunxiao’s sword out from the dead Wen cultivator’s stomach and passes it back to the latter.
"Great. Yunxiao, listen to me, run straight out of the gates and don't look back, alright?"
“But—” Ye Yunxiao frowns, but Jiang Xichen takes off running before he can process the rest of the latter's words.
He has no time to stand by and process his feelings now, Jiang Xichen tells himself as he knocks out three Wen cultivators in succession and charges into the training field. He should not be hesitating anymore, because what he has to do is as clear as day—he has to find his parents and work together with them to fight the Wens.
"This would teach you! Did you really think that you ever stood a chance against us Wens?"
Jiang Xichen pivots his heel in the direction of Wen Chao's voice right on cue to catch the sight of Wen Zhuliu thrusting a palm against his father's chest. Jiang Fengmian flies backwards into the wall, his back smashing into stone before he collapses onto the ground in a heap, retching blood.
"A-Die!" Jiang Xichen wails, the scream tearing through him like a huge jagged shard of glass. Adrenaline rushes through his veins, making them burn white-hot. His eyes widen, his pulse quicken—then without a second thought, Jiang Xichen pours all the spiritual energy he can directly into his sword and charges straight at Wen Zhuliu.
Suibian drags him forward in a wild burst of energy and Jiang Xichen shifts Zidian into a whip in his left hand, all prepared to strike Wen Zhuliu, to force him away from his injured father.
"A-Huan, watch out!"
Yu Ziyuan's yell cuts through the erratic thrumming of his heartbeat in his eardrums and Jiang Xichen recoils immediately. He can't possibly stop himself mid-motion, but nevertheless, he whips his head in her direction just in time to see his mother's face contort in pain as a nameless Wen disciple behind her slices her dominant hand cleanly off.
Jiang Xichen wavers for a split second, his grip slipping from Suibian and he suffers for that when Wen Zhuliu's right hand connects with the centre of his chest, sending a blast of counteracting qi that sets his veins and meridians aflame.
An arrow shot by Ye Yunxiao from a nearby rooftop pierces into Wen Zhuliu's forearm then, the force tearing the older man's palm away from Jiang Xichen, but it is already far too late.
Pain erupts from within Jiang Xichen's golden core, bringing forth surging waves that burn scalding hot right through his entire being, razing his cultivation to naught—leaving Jiang Xichen with smouldering embers of agony and a cold, cold, cold emptiness that nothing can ever fill up again.
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
Everything hurts. Or rather, everything used to hurt.
Jiang Xichen doesn't know for sure when the plethora of kicks and cuts the Wens shower upon him have all stopped aching. Perhaps it has actually been longer than what he perceived, because even the screams from the remaining Jiang disciples have ebbed into tiny choked whimpers that punctuate the oppressive cackling of the triumphant Wens.
The Jiang Sect Heir slips his eyes close, his body lethargic and unnaturally cold. He feels the blood oozing out from the large gaping gash on his side, bringing with it precious warmth as it slowly trickles down the length of his body.
He doesn't want to think anymore, doesn't want to see or feel—not about the current debilitating state of his body, and certainly not about how his parents are on the ground opposite him, tied up to wooden pillars, both of them so badly injured that they are barely conscious.
It seems as though it was just barely a minute ago that his family was still together, sharing a meal like any other day, with his father's aloof ease, his mother's snarky words, his sister's sumptuous cooking, and Wei Wuxian's mischievous grins, but now...
Jiang Xichen's thoughts start to wander behind closed lids, conjuring up the faces of his siblings—until a kick to the back of his legs makes him collapse unceremoniously onto his knees before Wen Chao.
Wen Chao sneers then, grabbing Jiang Xichen by his bangs and yanking his head up so their eyes meet. "You know, I've always been meaning to ask you this. How does it feel to have the tables turned on you?"
Jiang Xichen spits into Wen Chao's hideous face.
"You—!" Wen Chao growls, kicking the other man right in the middle of his chest, sending him sprawling backwards. Jiang Xichen chokes up a mouthful of blood from his broken ribs, spilling it onto the soil under him that has long since been dyed crimson with the lives of the thousand odd Yunmeng Jiang disciples.
"Fuck you!" Wen Chao snarls as he scrubs at his face with his sleeve. However, when that does nothing other than smear the spit across his skin, Wen Chao snaps completely. His fingers clench tighter around Suibian, and he charges towards Jiang Xichen with a war cry, his arm outstretched and weapon poised to kill.
As if on cue, a pebble swings in from left field, smashing directly into Wen Chao’s temple and knocks the man completely off-balance, sending him stumbling several steps to his side. However, a small stone of this size and trajectory wouldn’t be able to actually fatally injure anyone. It simply splits the tender skin upon contact, bruising it, drawing blood—and Wen Chao flies into a frenzied rage.
He touches three fingertips to his wound, then pulls away to see a scarlet splatter clinging to his trembling hands. He shrieks, screaming for Wen Zhuliu to save him as he snaps his attention from Jiang Xichen over to the purple-clad disciples.
“Who was it?!” Wen Chao roars, pointing the tip of Suibian at the handful of blanching remnants huddled together. Even the Wen disciples guarding them leave their posts in favour of taking a few steps backwards, away from the enraged young master.
“Don't think that you can get away with it if you keep silent! If no one comes forward, I’ll just kill all of you fuckers right here and now!” Wen Chao threatens, slashing wildly at the air as he advances in large strides over to the trembling disciples. The tip of Suibian nicks one of the Jiang disciple's shoulders and the boy scrambles backwards on all fours.
"Someone, save me... D-Da-shixiong!"
Jiang Xichen grimaces, pushing himself up onto his elbows, but a sharp pain lancing up his side makes him stutter mid-motion, gasping for breath. In the next moment, a foot lands squarely on the middle of his back, forcefully keeping him pinned down against the dirt ground and Jiang Xichen finds himself unable to do anything else other than watch helplessly as Wen Chao swings Suibian down towards the same boy with the intent to kill.
Ye Yunxiao springs forward then, intercepting the blade with his bare hands.
“I am the one that threw the pebble.”
Wen Chao pauses, raising a brow at Ye Yunxiao’s bold statement, before his eyes light up in recognition. "My my, aren't you the stupid brat that shot down the kite?"
"So what if I am?"
Wen Chao's lips twist into a cruel smirk and he breaks into peals of maniacal laughter. "According to the tenets of the Qishan Wen Sect, any traitor that harbours hidden intentions has to be publicly executed!"
The other Yunmeng Jiang disciples gasp and hurriedly clamber over in an attempt to save their sixth shidi, but they are too slow.
The Wen cultivators standing around swiftly catch them and pin them firmly in place as Wen Chao makes a show of withdrawing the sword slowly from Ye Yunxiao's grip, making it drag along the raw, open wound. The sharp edge cuts deeper and deeper into his palm, making a viscous scarlet pour out in ribbons down his slender wrist.
Ye Yunxiao grimaces. The sensation of pain fluctuates on his face, evident from his narrowed eyes and the tense set of his jaw, but the defiant stance and the angry crease between his brows indicate that he is unwilling to go down without a fight.
The other disciples quickly avert their gazes, unnerved and unwilling to watch further.
Jiang Xichen grits his teeth together instead.
It should already be so obvious that they do not even stand a chance anymore. They can’t possibly win the Wens now, however, why is it that he always recalls the Sect's motto at such times?
Attempt the impossible—these words that used to sound like intangible shackles upon him, now seem like a driving force to Jiang Xichen, pushing him forward, stretching his potential, making him believe that there is still a sliver of hope.
Ridiculous, how ridiculous.
But still, Jiang Xichen knows that he can’t possibly give up yet, because the Yunmeng Jiang Sect isn’t completely destroyed. His parents are heavily injured, but not dead. His sister is safe and sound at Meishan. Wei Wuxian is probably still unconscious on the boat.
It is his duty to protect his home, to ensure that Lotus Pier is a safe place for them all to return to.
And to do that, he would first have to get the Wens to retreat.
Fortunately, Jiang Xichen has long since been used to dealing with self-centred pompous fools, and he knows that he can just use the same tactic as he did in the Xuanwu cave to draw Wen Chao’s attention back to himself.
He just has to say something that would tick the other man off. The actions of an angered person are always easier to predict.
"Wen Chao, I have never seen someone as pathetic and cowardly as you before! You asked me earlier how it feels to have the tables turned, but shouldn't you be the one that knows the answer to that best?"
Wen Chao snaps his head around, his dark eyes wild with rage and dissatisfaction at Jiang Xichen’s taunt. "I dare you to repeat that again!"
Jiang Xichen smirks up at him, his tone mocking. "Oh? Have you already forgotten what happened on Dust-Creek Mountain? Have you forgotten how you ran at the mere sight of the beast, and later resorted to stealing the credit for the kill. Do you know what people call you behind your back?"
"Shut up! Shut your trap!" Wen Chao bellows, turning his attention fully to Jiang Xichen. His eyes are wide, with rage burning in their depths.
The Wen disciple pinning Jiang Xichen down inhales sharply at the sight and the latter grabs the chance when he sees it, wrestling his way out from under the foot pinning him down before continuing his taunts.
"A useless and pathetic person who is riding on his father’s coattails. An utter disgrace to the Wen family name."
Jiang Xichen sees the exact moment Wen Chao snaps, but alas, it is not in the way he imagined it to unfold. Instead of charging at him like in the Xuanwu cave, Wen Chao grabs the closest thing to him—their sixth shidi, Ye Yunxiao—and holds Suibian to his throat.
"Who… Who is the useless and pathetic one?!" Wen Chao shrieks. "It's you! Look, it's your Sect that's destroyed, your family that's killed. You can't protect anyone, so you are the pathetic one!"
Jiang Xichen narrows his eyes. "Let him go."
"It's you. You are the murderer!" Wen Chao continues speaking in his scratchy high-pitched voice, as if he hadn't heard Jiang Xichen's words. "You are the one that killed Jiaojiao. My precious, precious Jiaojiao!"
With each word, Wen Chao digs the blade deeper in. A trickle of blood leaks down the curve of Ye Yunxiao's pale neck and he visibly blanches, but despite this, the brave boy still struggles to even out his breaths to appear calm and unperturbed.
"It's revenge against me that you want, right? Then let that boy go!"
"Let him go? Why would I do that when I have waited so many months just to see that look of despair on your face?" Wen Chao cackles, pushing the tip of the blade further in, piercing the skin.
Ye Yunxiao winces.
Wen Chao grins, showing two rows of pearly white teeth. "Hey, do you remember this? This is exactly what you did to me in Qishan! Jiang Xichen, do you remember it?!"
He does, but he also remembers what Wen Chao planned to do to Lan Wanyin, and sees what Wen Chao is planning to do to Ye Yunxiao now.
Jiang Xichen clenches his hands into fists. "Stop it already!"
"Stop? You are telling me to stop?" Wen Chao laughs bitterly, his voice hoarse and eyes glinting maniacally. "Why don't you beg me to stop then! Get back down on your knees and apologise to me for everything!"
Jiang Xichen swallows dryly, nails cutting into the healed wounds on his palm, tearing them open anew. He clenches his teeth together in a mix of disgust and reluctance.
He is powerless—this is his only choice left. But to bow before Wen Chao now, is to admit defeat, is to admit that Yunmeng Jiang is beneath Qishan Wen.
And as a Sect Heir, as a Jiang descendant, as Jiang Xichen, he cannot bring himself to concede.
"Da-shixiong," Ye Yunxiao's calm voice cuts through the haze of uncertainty clouding Jiang Xichen's mind. "The Yunxiao now will gladly choose lotuses over wisterias."
He will gladly choose to die for the sect.
There is no hint of hesitation in his tone. Each word is full of conviction, reflecting the intense unwavering determination that is painfully clear in the depths of Ye Yunxiao's azure eyes.
To the young boy, Lotus Pier is his home now, and he is willing to give his life up for it. He believes fervently that it is the same for Jiang Xichen, because he thinks that the latter would definitely hold his Sect and home closer to heart—and Ye Yunxiao is not wrong, but he just doesn’t understand his Da-shixiong well enough.
Because if there is a way for Jiang Xichen to save the people he cares for, then he would cast aside anything for that, be it his pride, his happiness, his dreams or even his life. He would move purely on instinct, in desperation, because he doesn’t want to lose anything anymore.
"But Lotus Pier would never be as dear to you as your own home!"
Ye Yunxiao’s eyes widen a fraction at Jiang Xichen’s words, glistening at the corners, before they crinkle into a smile. It’s only been the second time he has seen the young boy smile, but it is precious all the same, warm like the sunlight on a cold winter day, and fresh like the sight of golden rays reflecting off fresh snow.
“Whether this is my home or not, is not for you to decide, Da-shixiong.”
Jiang Xichen’s lips part, wanting to say something in reply, wanting to stop Ye Yunxiao, wanting to beg Wen Chao to just stop this farce, but Ye Yunxiao sees right through him like the intelligent and brave person he is—like the intelligent and brave man he is supposed to grow up to be—and aims a sharp kick backwards, his heel smashing into Wen Chao's shin before Jiang Xichen can utter a single word.
“Our Yunmeng Jiang Sect can be destroyed, but it will not be humiliated by the likes of you Wen-dogs!” Ye Yunxiao yells, his voice thundering and echoing around the training field. It is the loudest anyone has ever heard their sixth shidi yell, and they all stun for a split second, until Ye Yunxiao sinks his teeth deep into Wen Chao’s forearm.
Wen Chao gives a blood-curdling scream, his grip loosening on Suibian. Ye Yunxiao takes that opportunity to fling Wen Chao’s arm away from himself and darts towards Jiang Xichen. The rest of the Yunmeng Jiang disciples perk up at that and slam their bodies against the Wen guards, tackling them off balance before spreading out and running off in different directions.
Jiang Xichen lets out a chuckle, dry and hollow, and goes along with Ye Yunxiao’s brash escape plan. He swiftly swipes a leg out and trips the Wen cultivator beside him, then reaches out to grab the injured boy.
Their fingertips brush against each other’s, light and fleeting, then a sharp metallic glare from behind Ye Yunxiao blinds Jiang Xichen for a moment. Dread twists in his stomach at the late realisation of what that could possibly be, slowly and steadily creeping down his spine like an icy chill, descending and freezing his feet to the dirt ground.
“Yunxiao, dodge!” Jiang Xichen shouts, his voice raw and hoarse, but it is far, far too late.
Suibian swings down in a wide arc and meets the side of Ye Yunxiao’s unsuspecting neck. Bright crimson blooms along the length of the sharp blade in the next second, little specks of red spider lilies that twine around the cold metal and burst forth, splattering against Jiang Xichen's pale cheek.
It's warm—far warmer than the trails of wetness that trickle down Jiang Xichen's eyes to his jaw, and his heart speeds to a numbing gallop when he finally connects the sight to the sound of muffled gurgling coming from Ye Yunxiao.
"Da… shixiong… quick… run…"
"Huh? Why is this darn thing stuck?" Wen Chao questions, withdrawing his hand with a loud and crass curse. Suibian retracts from Ye Yunxiao's neck with a loud squelch, and Jiang Xichen could barely even find the time to blink before Wen Chao swings Suibian down once more.
It cleaves Ye Yunxiao's head cleanly off this time, and Wen Chao erupts into peals of demented laughter.
However, Jiang Xichen doesn't register the taunting giggles.
His attention is focused solely on Ye Yunxiao, on what remains of him, on the exposed insides of his nape. There is raw pink flesh spotted with blood and speckled with springy sinew, but what makes Jiang Xichen's stomach flip is the protruding white jagged end of a broken bone.
A dull, soundless moment passes in Lotus Pier before the blood spills, and Jiang Xichen watches silently with wide eyes as a thick scarlet river gushes out from the boy's neck, soaking down the front of his purple attire before seeping into the ground.
Ye Yunxiao's decapitated head strikes against the side of the corpse mound and rolls back down, landing on the bottom in a heap, and Jiang Xichen freezes as glassy dull eyes bore back into his own.
He screams then, the sound ripping its way out of his agonizing soul. All he feels is anger, fury, and a deep sense of grief that rocks his body at its very core. There is a pain in his chest, a sharp ache that seemingly knows no end or limits, and it eats away at him, consuming him from inside out.
"Wen Chao, you bastard!" Jiang Xichen charges at him on pure instinct, but the Wen disciple behind him pins him down easily before he even comes close to landing a hit on Wen Chao.
Jiang Xichen catches sight of Wen Zhuliu in the corner of his eye, still unmoving and disinterested, as if he is certain that there is no chance anyone around would be able to harm his owner. Jiang Xichen grits his teeth together at the humiliation and desperately tries to get free. However, as expected, he doesn't stand a chance without a core, and the cultivator roughly shoves the side of his face harder into the ground with each attempt, pressing it down and into the dirt.
"Pride. Yunmeng Jiang's pride?" Wen Chao scoffs, circling around the fallen man. "How ridiculous! Pride is something that only the strong can speak of, not by weaklings like the whole lot of you!"
"Weaklings? So you begged a weakling to spare your life on the Dust-Creek Mountain, then stole the credit of his kill. What makes you then?"
Wen Chao's face turns an ugly shade of purple and he eyes the silver bell that is lying flat on the ground beside Jiang Xichen, still connected to the latter's waistband with a thin purple cord.
The Clarity Bell is the trademark of the main branch of the Yunmeng Jiang Sect, and crushing it is akin to crushing the sect—and it is with that understanding that Wen Chao smashes his foot down onto it, cracking the exterior of the delicate bell, and grinds the heel of his foot mercilessly into the fragments.
"Listen!" Wen Chao sneers, kicking the broken pieces of the bell to the side. "The Yunmeng Jiang Sect has refused to comply with the Wen Sect's proposal! Slaughter them all for their defiance! Do not even leave a single one alive!"
The Wen guards obey Wen Chao's commands immediately. They round up the fleeing disciples at once and drive their swords into their throats without hesitation.
Some of them remain silent, resigned to fate, while others try to beg for mercy and forgiveness. But the sounds that echo repeatedly in Jiang Xichen's ears are not these. Instead, it is the unforgiving sound of metal slicing into flesh, of blood gushing out, and the eerie silence that follows.
None of the cuts made are clean, but they are deep enough to do the job, and the disciples fall one after another, their bodies hitting the dirt ground with heavy thumps.
"Weak, weak weaklings! Look, Jiang Xichen! It's all your fault! It's all because you are weak! It's because you refused to beg that everyone is dying, that everyone is dead! And now your parents are going to die too! All because of you and your stupid Yunmeng Jiang pride!"
Jiang Xichen's blood runs cold.
"Don't you dare touch them!" He snarls, spitting curses as he struggles futilely again with a renewed strength, while Wen Chao advances in large strides towards his mother. "Let go of me!"
Wen Chao grabs Yu Ziyuan's hair, lifting her head so it bares the soft curve of her neck. Grinning ferally, the deranged man rests the blade of Suibian against her pale skin.
"Beg, Jiang Xichen. Beg me to spare your parents. Beg me."
Jiang Xichen grits his teeth, curling his fingers, digging them into the soil.
The pain and humiliation of submitting to the Wens eats away at him, but he can deal with that if it meant that Wen Chao would spare them.
Because he would do anything for his family. He would give anything and everything up without a second thought.
But will his parents want him to save their lives with that? They wouldn't. They probably wouldn't. No, they definitely wouldn't.
But would it be wrong for him to want to anyway? For him to want them to live? For him to try to protect them?
The Jiang Sect heir sucks in a deep ragged breath.
"Let them go… please ," Jiang Xichen grits out between clenched teeth, tears prickling the corners of his eyes as he lowers his head. His forehead meets the ground. "The one you hate is me. I will do anything you want, just spare my family. I… beg you."
"Well said, well said," Wen Chao nods with glee, but the maniacal glint in his eye doesn't subside. "Since you were so sincere in your pleas, I will leave you alive so you can watch from the front seat."
Jiang Xichen's heart speeds into overdrive, thudding ominously against his chest at Wen Chao's words. He never really expected Wen Chao to easily let his parents off just because he gave in and begged, but having the last shred of hope taken away from him cuts deeper and harder into Jiang Xichen more than any other physical wound.
"Keep your eyes peeled and watch carefully. This is the capital punishment for treason—lingchi."
Wen Chao's voice is soft, almost a whisper, but the weight of the inherent meaning behind his words is far too heavy for Jiang Xichen to bear.
Lingchi, also known as death by a thousand cuts, is a gruelling torture process where the aim is to draw out the process and see how many cuts a person can physically withstand before dying.1
"Don't you dare," Jiang Xichen hisses, seething, his eyes red-rimmed, his face pale, and yet he can't do anything except cry and scream himself hoarse as Wen Chao slowly releases his hold on her hair. Being unconscious, Yu Ziyuan's head lolls forward at the same time Suibian drags leisurely across her neck, but instead of cutting a deep gash across her jugular, Wen Chao flicks his wrist out instead.
The action severs a chunk of flesh from the top of his mother's chest and it falls limply onto the ground beside her, along with a patch of violet fabric. Dark red gushes out from the open wound and the only audible sound that follows is Yu Ziyuan's screams when she jerks awake from the pain.
Jiang Xichen had never heard his mother shriek like this before. She was never willing to show her weaknesses to others. She was always the strong indomitable female warrior in Jiang Xichen's world, and the vulnerabilities that she displays now only serves to etch this last memory Jiang Xichen has of his mother deeper into his mind.
"A-Niang... A-Niang!"
Jiang Xichen twists his fingers into soil, desperately trying to use it as leverage to claw his way forward. He manages one small step before the Wen cultivator pins him down more firmly once more.
Jiang Xichen doesn't stop struggling, but the hurdle is too big and the distance between him and his mother is too huge.
Yu Ziyuan doesn't seem to have any recognition of her surroundings anymore. Her eyes are blank, unseeing, even as agonised cries pours relentlessly from her lips with every new cut.
"Stop it, stop it, stop it," Jiang Xichen begins chanting to himself before long.
His vision is blurry with tears.
He still sees the hazy outline of his parent's mutilated bodies. He still hears the sounds of their pained screams. Yet it is as if his heart and body has gone completely numb with grief.
His parent's voices seem to come from a mile away, as if whatever that is happening before him isn't real.
"Do you understand now?" Wen Chao sniggers. He is standing right by Jiang Fengmian now, and the Wen cultivator behind Jiang Xichen grabs him by the chin, forcing him to watch as Wen Chao runs Suibian through his father's throat.
The squelching sound of the blade entering flesh echoes in the training grounds, and Jiang Xichen blanches as Wen Chao swings the sword to the side, cutting cleanly through the column.
Suibian brings with it a wave of blood, flinging it in a wide arc towards the Jiang Sect Heir.
It lands on the ground, close enough to touch, and the sight of the blood seemingly flips a switch in him. Jiang Xichen scrambles forward, running his fingers through the damp soil—the only remnants of his parents he has left. Then, the tears that Jiang Xichen thought had run dry, start pouring down his cheeks again.
"Look, this is the irrefutable evidence! Yunmeng Jiang never stood a chance against Qishan Wen, because I am superior and you are inferior!"
"You bastard!" Jiang Xichen roars, the thread of reason inside him snapping completely. With a sudden burst of energy, the deranged man manages to throw off the disciple holding him down and lunges straight at Wen Chao, fist clenched and arm drawn back.
Pure fury drives his every step, spurring the crazed man further on when he notices Wen Chao's eyes widening in surprise, with a brief hint of chilling fear in their depths. Jiang Xichen twists his body, and prepares to throw his entire weight into the punch, but a sharp pain lancing straight through his chest brings him to a complete halt.
He notices the glinting silver blade through his chest before he feels. He tastes a familiar metallic tinge hitting the back of his throat before he sees.
The Wen cultivator behind Jiang Xichen pulls the blade out, and Jiang Xichen immediately flinches, gasping for breath. Dark spots contour the sides of his vision. He stumbles several steps backwards, sweat lining his brows as he presses his hand against the fresh wound, trying to stem the bleeding.
The initial jolt of numbing pain from it is not the worst that Jiang Xichen had felt before, but the exponentially building agony afterwards that leads in to an insurmountable anguish certainly is. Without a golden core to mend his injury, the pain only grows worse by the second, overpowering his five senses.
Still, Jiang Xichen wills the tears away and steadies his ragged panting breaths, as he forces himself to take another step toward Wen Chao.
The sole of a boot meets the back of his hand, pushing it harshly against the wound and shoving him away. Jiang Xichen sprawls backwards, collapsing onto his back.
He winces.
In the next moment, the same boot stomps down on his chest, grinding its heel in.
"Trying to hit me? You are a thousand years too early for that!"
Jiang Xichen grimaces, vision growing blurry as the amount of blood loss finally takes his toll on him. His heartbeat thunders in his eardrums, erratic and disorganized.
Wen Chao yanks him up by the lapels, sneering wickedly. "I'm sure you've heard of the Burial Mounds, right? No one who wandered in has ever walked out alive before. I'm sure you will live a nice life on there, for eternity."
Jiang Xichen glares up at Wen Chao, defiant despite his battered state of his body. He spits into Wen Chao's face.
The Wen Young Master sends him flying with a rough kick and waves over a few of his subordinates.
"Transfer him just enough spiritual energy to keep him alive. I want him to watch every second his beloved Lotus Pier burns down with his own two eyes."
Notes:
1. There is limited information about lingchi that is available for research, but it seems that it is a capital punishment saved for the heinous crimes, typically for criminals that have committed treason against the Emperor. The condemned person would be tied to a wooden post to make them immobile, then the executioner would administer cuts to the bare flesh. This typically starts at the chest, removing the breast, muscle and flesh, until the bare ribs are nearly visible. Next, it is the arms then the thighs, and so on. At the end of the punishment, the criminal is also (likely) to be decapitated. The time taken for this punishment varies and is not cohesive across different sources.
In addition, the act of dismemberment serves to punish the criminal both in this life and the next, as Confucian ideals prohibit the mutilation of one’s body, labelling it as an unfilial act—similar to the prohibition of cutting one’s hair in ancient China.
Also if you recall in original canon MDZS, this is also the method Xue Yang used on the Changs. Back
*₊°。 ❀°。°✿ FANART CORNER ✿° .❀。• *
Chapter 15: Revelation I
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
<PRESENT>
"Song-gongzi."
Jiang Xichen snaps his eyes open, his limbs flexing in shock.
There is someone crouched before him, but their facial features are far too blurry in the contrasting darkness for him to take in. Instead, his focus is drawn to the flickering orange-yellow flames behind the figure, drawn to the way the fire licks hungrily up the edges of wooden twigs at the campfire—reminding him of how it had engulfed the wooden pillars at Lotus Pier right in front of his eyes.
He finds himself drawn back into that moment in that split second, and he clearly hears the sound of fire crackling around kindling, clearly sees the unforgettable sight of skin sloughing off bones, clearly smells the acrid scent of burning flesh lingering in the air.
There is a sense of disgust twisting in his gut, accompanied by the taste of blood in his mouth that's made foul by the concept of defeat.
He wants to run, but he can't. He wants to look away, but he can't.
He wants to kill Wen Chao, wants to tear him from limb to limb and rend his body to pieces in return for everything that that bastard did to his home, his sect, his family, but alas, he can't.
Anger thrums white-hot through his veins while red contours the edges of his vision. There is no other word to describe the flurry of emotions that he is currently drowning in, except pure hatred.
Hatred at Wen Chao, hatred at himself for his own helplessness, hatred at—
"Song-gongzi?"
"Get lost!" Jiang Xichen hollers, the feeling of Wen Chao yanking on his bangs still fresh in his mind. He lashes out on reflex, flinging his hand in a wide arc. His fingers strike Lan Wanyin's wrist mid-swing, blunt nails grazing soft flesh.
Lan Wanyin withdraws his arm with a sharp gasp, and Jiang Xichen snaps back to reality with the familiar voice.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"
"It is fine."
A pregnant silence stretches between the two men, the building tension palpably uncomfortable. The rekindled campfire behind them crackles, casting a contrasting auburn glow around Lan Wanyin, bringing out the brown tints at the tips of the other man's hair and highlighting the melancholic slope to his back.
There is an indescribable, immeasurable sense of desolation about him and Jiang Xichen swallows thickly, averting his gaze from Lan Wanyin's figure.
"I—"
"Did you have a nightmare?" Lan Wanyin uncharacteristically interrupts him for the second time in a row, but the peculiar omnipresent grief present in his tone just a split second ago seems to have eased considerably.
Jiang Xichen blinks twice. "No, I… was just taken aback by the fire suddenly rekindling. I am not very good with flames."
"Me neither. It reminds me of the time when Cloud Recesses burned down."
The last time they had this conversation was more than a decade ago, back in the Xuanwu cave, and Lan Wanyin had been so affected that he cried. He is not crying now, but Jiang Xichen's heart twinges all the same.
"I didn't mean to remind you of a painful memory."
"It is alright. The Sunshot Campaign affected other sects more adversely. Gusu Lan got off rather lightly in comparison."
"Even still, that's something you can say only in retrospect. I'm sure… the damage to your sect and the burning down of your home wasn't an easy experience."
Lan Wanyin glances up at him. There is something unreadable in the depths of his steel blue eyes, but it flickers and disappears before Jiang Xichen can identify it.
"The most painful experience for me was actually after the Sunshot Campaign."
Jiang Xichen's breath catches.
He wants to ask why, wants to know the reason why, but the timely throbbing from the two ritual wounds on his forearm prevents him from doing so, because he can clearly feel their deteriorating state. He can feel how their spans have widened considerably, steadily twinning up the length of his arm to his shoulder.
Soon enough, it would reach his chest, his torso, then down to the rest of his body—and that's why Jiang Xichen can't possibly bring himself to ask. He is living on borrowed time after all. He would have to leave someday, and until then, he would like to be able to remain in Lan Wanyin's memories as a trustworthy friend, as Song Hengyi.
The two men lapse into another silence, until Lan Wanyin ventures to speak again. His voice is soft, contemplative, as if he is simply thinking aloud.
"I have always wondered, what is it like to be the last one left alive when the rest of your Sect is gone. Without your family by your side, who would you depend on then? Who could you depend on then?"
Jiang Xichen's posture stiffens, a lump forming at the back of his throat. There is nothing reproachful in Lan Wanyin's tone but it hits Jiang Xichen right in the heart all the same, making it clench and ache painfully. He wants nothing more than to reach over and grab Lan Wanyin’s wrist right now, to answer and allay his worries, but Lan Wanyin’s next sentence makes him pause in his tracks.
"All I wanted was to help him. All I wanted was for him to trust me, to depend on me. Even if the entire world turned against him, I wanted him to know that I would still be by his side no matter what."
"Maybe he knew," Jiang Xichen replies a long moment later, his sentence punctured with the susurration of the nearby stream. "Maybe that's why he stayed away, to protect you."
The falling leaves around them are like sails without boats, specks of green and brown spiralling freely down along with the wind, but Jiang Xichen’s words still remain solemn and heavy.
Lan Wanyin opens his mouth, about to answer, but he hesitates at the last moment. He pauses for a fraction of a second, simply staring at Jiang Xichen wordlessly before turning away with an audible sigh.
"Perhaps,” Lan Wanyin concedes at long last, rising to his feet promptly and dusting his robes off. "Let's continue down to Yueyang."
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
Yueyang is a small but beautiful town located right beside Nightless City, and it suffered the brunt of most of the oppression by Qishan Wen both before and during the Sunshot Campaign. Traces of their distaste for said cultivators could still be easily spotted all throughout the town—such as the obvious lack of any red decorations, and the townspeople humming catchy nursery rhymes about the fallen sun.
Jiang Xichen sits himself down on a set of stairs, lounging in the waning evening sunlight, twiddling his thumbs as he waits patiently for Lan Wanyin to return after finding food. He had initially intended to tag along to haggle the prices down, but there was no way he could bring himself to insist on doing that after Lan Wanyin shot him a concerned look for the curse mark on his leg.
Instead, he observes the people passing by before him, and finds his attention unwittingly drawn to a group of five kids darting across the street.
The boy at the front runs like the wind, clutching a long string in his hand that leads to a kite bobbing up and down in the air. His four friends behind him carry toy bows and arrows, cheering gleefully as they take turns to shoot at the kite.
Jiang Xichen props his chin up on a hand while he continues watching them.
Although this game of shooting kites conjures up a bout of unhappy memories for him, it still possesses an immense amount of nostalgia. He loved to play this game with Wei Wuxian when he was younger, and always won first place back in Lotus Pier. To celebrate his victory, his father would personally hand-assemble the framework for their next round of new kites, then pass them to his sister to paint.
Their kites were always almost twice the size of others’, made into the shape of a flying beast, complete with vivid colours, a large gaping mouth and several sharp tails that would flap in the wind. It had the perfect streamlined shape, which is a far cry from the misshapen golden round mass that the children are currently playing with.
And just like what Jiang Xichen predicted, their kite starts descending along with the next gust of wind, falling flat onto the stone pavement. As if on cue, the scrawniest child trips over his own feet and falls flat onto the kite, tearing a hole in the paper.
“Oh no, the sun is destroyed!”
The children stop the chase and quickly gather in a circle. “What do we do? We haven’t even shot the sun and it fell by itself. Who’s the leader now?”
One of the children stands on tiptoes, raising his hand enthusiastically. “Me! I want to be Jin Guangyao! I’m the one who killed the Wen Sect’s big villain, I should be the next leader!”
In these types of games, the current Chief Cultivator, Lianfang-zun, would obviously be the most popular character. Although his family background was a little disgraceful by societal standards, the fact that he was able to prove others wrong and become a cornerstone to the Sunshot Campaign is also precisely why he managed to earn everyone’s respect.
“Ridiculous. I am Nie Mingjue. I have won the most battles and captured the most people! I should be the leader!”
“But I am the Chief Cultivator! You have to bow when you see me!”
“You only became the Chief Cultivator after the Sunshot Campaign. If we are playing based on the war then you don’t get a say.”
“Well, we can play a scene based after the Sunshot Campaign then.”
“But that’s not fun anymore. The Sunshot game is only fun during the war period...”
One of the remaining three children lets out a frustrated sigh and sticks his hands out between his arguing friends. “Alright alright, let’s stop fighting. Since the kite is ruined anyway, why don’t we switch games and play the Lanling Jin’s Discussion Conference trial instead?”
Jiang Xichen hums under his breath in keen interest. He had never heard of any rumors involving Lanling Jin and trials before, so it had to be something that happened during the seven year gap.
The mediator takes a step back from his friends and crosses his hands over his chest. “Well, since there are no objections, we will switch to this then. I'll go first. I want to be Wei Wuxian, Sect Leader of Yunmeng Jiang.”
“I'll be Lan Wangji!” The second last youth quickly perks up and snatches up the available role before turning to point at the scrawniest boy. “You can be Song Hengyi.”
Jiang Xichen blinks at the familiar name. He leans forward in rapt attention, elbows digging into his thighs.
“B-But I… I don’t want to be the villain…”
“You destroyed our kite. It’s only right that you be the villain!”
The boy bursts into tears. “Why am I always the bad guy? I don’t want to play someone who killed his family!”
The light smile on Jiang Xichen’s face dissipates at once.
Did he hear it wrongly? Could he have possibly misheard what the child said? Song Hengyi... killed his own family?
“I will grow up and become a strong man that will protect my family! I don’t want to be someone evil who—”
“It’s just a game, don’t take it so seriously,” the youth playing Nie Mingjue tuts disapprovingly, but Jiang Xichen tunes the rest of his preaching out of his mind.
He recoils, bile rising at the back of his throat.
It is as if he is suddenly pricked by a poisonous needle, and a faint ache starts building in his body, beginning at his chest and slowly spreading down to his extremities. His limbs feel leaden, his head heavy, and a sense of disgust overwhelms him—disgust at this body he is currently inhabiting, disgust at Song Hengyi, disgust at himself—because back when he was the Sect Heir, and even as the Yiling Patriarch, all Jiang Xichen ever wanted was to protect.
He wanted to protect everyone he cared for so much so that he would even choose to push them all away and seclude himself in the Burial Mounds. And yet…
What a twisted and ironic play of fate. What a way to tell him that he would never be clean of his sins.
What a way to tell him that no matter how many lifetimes it has been, he would still always be unworthy of Lan Wanyin.
Jiang Xichen squeezes his eyes shut, trying to force himself to regain his bearings through sheer willpower.
He shouldn't jump to conclusions yet. For all he knows, it might just be someone with a similar name, and even if that isn't the case, what he is hearing now is a tale that was passed from cultivators to the masses by word of mouth. After numerous iterations, the facts might have become twisted, and the story might have become biased.
As the Yiling Patriarch, Jiang Xichen should understand this logic the best after all.
But understanding doesn't make internalizing any easier, and Jiang Xichen can feel the bottomless panic growing in him. His breathing becomes more rapid, shallow, and he gasps futilely, reaching up to clutch at the lapels of his dark robes.
"This gege, are you alright?"
Jiang Xichen lifts his gaze. The five children are gathered right in front of him, peering at him curiously, their brows furrowed in concern. The child imitating Wei Wuxian tilts his head.
"Why are you crying? Are you hurting somewhere?"
Jiang Xichen draws in a shaky breath, his stomach knotting up as he struggles to find the appropriate words. "I—"
He trails off upon catching sight of a flurry of white robes and long billowing sleeves in his peripheral vision. Jiang Xichen doesn't even need to look over to know who it is, because he has been travelling with said person for weeks.
Lan Wanyin walks right up to them and bends his knee without losing momentum, swiftly lowering himself to the children's eye-level. "Don't worry, this gege is fine. He is just hungry."
"Huh...? Do people really cry from hunger?"
"They do," Lan Wanyin replies, glancing up at Jiang Xichen from the corner of his eye. "Right?"
There is a soft curve to lips, lighting up the sly glint in the depths of those steel blue eyes. It is an expression Jiang Xichen had never seen the other man make before, and he nods stiffly in agreement, still unable to find his voice.
He doesn't know what to make of that expression. It is a given that Lan Wanyin had likely overheard the children's conversation—any cultivator's trained ears would—and even if the rumours about Song Hengyi have become twisted by retelling, there still has to be some degree of truth to it.
There is no way Lan Wanyin would have never heard of them.
So why is Lan Wanyin still travelling with him? Why is Lan Wanyin still calling him a friend?
Even Jiang Xichen himself is so incredibly disgusted by the fact that he is inhabiting a body that belongs to someone who might have murdered his own family. There is no way the Second Young Master of Gusu Lan, a sect that prides itself so heavily on righteousness, would ever allow a criminal like him to get away scot-free.
Jiang Xichen's hands clench into tight fists.
"That reminds me, I saw a stall on the main street selling one that looks exactly the same." Lan Wanyin gestures to the damaged kite on the ground. "If you go now, you might find it before it closes for the day. The Sunshot game is more fun, right?"
The children's eyes light up at once and they quickly make a beeline to the main street, leaving the two men alone at the stairs.
Jiang Xichen clears his throat numbly. "Wanyin-ge is unexpectedly good with children."
"There are two of them at Lotus Pier. I have gotten used to it."
"I see."
Strangely, the part of him that would previously get jealous at any mention of Lan Wanyin's relationship with Wei Wuxian has gotten uncharacteristically dormant at this point, and in its place is a void that leaves Jiang Xichen emotionally bare.
He is neither angry nor disappointed. In fact, he might even be a tad relieved—because he knows that as flippant as Wei Wuxian might appear at times, he always treasures and protects the people he holds dear.
Lan Wanyin is in good hands, and simply knowing that is enough for him, because he no longer deserves to remain by the other man's side—this train of thought that Jiang Xichen had never imagined would accompany him across lifetimes is stark in his mind once again, haunting him.
"Once a sinner, always a sinner."
Jiang Xichen recoils at the snarling voice of reason in his mind, his body jerking and limbs tensing up in reflex.
Lan Wanyin is by his side in the next moment, resting a hand on his knee, the weight oddly comforting. "Is the curse mark acting up again?"
Jiang Xichen chuckles, his tone cold and laugh hollow. "Don't tell me that the pristine Lan er-gongzi is intending to pull up my trousers in public?"
Lan Wanyin blinks twice, taken aback, then slowly withdraws his hand.
"Song-gongzi, I understand that we all have secrets that we do not wish to share. Rest assured that I wouldn't force you to tell me something you do not wish to divulge."
Jiang Xichen stills, fingers twitching.
"Divulge, you say, but shouldn’t you know everything from the first time I introduced myself?"
"I had my suspicions, but I was in seclusion then and did not know the whole story. I had rumours and word of mouth to fall back upon, but I learned that those are rarely accurate." Lan Wanyin sits himself onto the stairs by Jiang Xichen, uncaring about the dirt and grime on the steps. "I have learned that I can only trust what I see with my own two eyes and what I conclude from my own experiences, and the time I have spent travelling with you tells me that you are not someone who would kill innocent people in cold blood."
Jiang Xichen bursts into hysterical peals of raucous laughter at that, the sound muffled as he slaps a hand over his mouth to stifle it. Yet, his shoulders shake with each breath he sucks in, and he finally withdraws after a long extended moment to wipe at the building tears at the corners of his eyes.
Even if the words are not directed at him, they are exactly what he had yearned to hear once upon a time—someone who saw him for who he was and not who he became. He wanted to protect the people and places he loved, and even after becoming the Yiling Patriarch, even after the entire Cultivation World turned against him, the feelings have not dissipated.
The feelings definitely have not dissipated yet and that's why although the words come seven long years late, they still move him to the brink of tears.
"Wanyin-ge, you're truly amazing," Jiang Xichen says with a genuine smile. The indescribable feelings plaguing him have started easing considerably with Lan Wanyin's words alone, and Jiang Xichen finds himself in awe at how the other man is able to allay his fears this easily each time.
Just his mere presence, just a simple exchange of words or a brief glance are more than enough, would always be more than enough.
"How are you able to say the right thing every single time?"
Lan Wanyin tilts his head to the side, unfazed by the unexpected question. "It only feels that way because it is something true and something you needed to hear."
Jiang Xichen raises a questioning brow.
Needed to hear—not wanted to hear?
Yet, in the face of Lan Wanyin’s steely and unwavering gaze, even the surprise on Jiang Xichen's face gradually melts back into another smile, and he runs the back of his hand over his lids, wiping away the remaining traces of tears clinging to his eyelashes.
"Well, that's certainly another way of looking at things."
"And a right way, nonetheless. No one should be bearing the burden of sins they did not do."
“So what Lan er-gongzi is hinting is: if I were indeed framed, you would take my side?"
Lan Wanyin rises to his feet and holds a hand out to Jiang Xichen. "Not just hinting. That is exactly what I am saying."
Jiang Xichen takes his hand.
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
“The Yiling Patriarch, five coins for one, ten coins for three!”
A middle-aged man standing across the street from the teahouse they had just exited from hollers while gesturing wildly towards an amateur looking signboard by his side. Intrigued, Jiang Xichen eagerly approaches the charlatan, dragging a reluctant Lan Wanyin along behind him.
“Five coins for one, ten coins for three—such a low price wouldn’t cost you anything! I recommend three. One for the door, one for the hall, and stick the last on your bedroom wall. With the strong, dense evil energy of the Yiling Patriarch, it will fight evil with evil,1 making sure no wicked beings can come near you!”
"Interesting, I'll take three then!" Jiang Xichen exclaims, eyes twinkling with mirth at the stack of portraits depicting someone with features even more malicious-looking than the average door-god.2 He reaches into his navy waistbelt, feeling around for leftover coins, but Lan Wanyin steps in front of him before he could hand the money over.
"The Yiling Patriarch Jiang Xichen was a man famous for his good looks, yet your drawings here are unable to bring out even a millionth of his charm," Lan Wanyin speaks coldly, eyeing the portraits with a judgemental glare. "Besides if it were really that effective, there is no way you would be selling them at this price.”
Jiang Xichen blinks in surprise. Lan Wanyin is… bargaining?
However, the charlatan does not share the same amusement as Jiang Xichen, and he clears his throat indignantly, extending a finger to point at Lan Wanyin’s nose. "W-What's it to you? Don't try to stir up trouble! If you’re going to buy it, then buy it; if you’re not going to buy it, then go away!"
Lan Wanyin narrows his eyes, looking as if he intends to say something in reply to the man, but decides against it eventually and turns away after he is sure that Jiang Xichen wouldn’t be shelling out any amount of money to waste on the scrap papers. “Let’s go, we don’t have time to waste here. We still have to find the cultivation sect of this area.”
“Wait, by cultivation sect… do you mean the Yueyang Chang clan?”
Jiang Xichen turns back to the charlatan. “You know where it is?”
“Rather, there is no one here who wouldn’t know where it is! If you follow this path down out of the city and walk for about two miles, you will see quite a lovely residence. I don’t know if the signboard is still intact, but I heard that that’s the Chang Clan’s residence. Unfortunately, there is no point in heading down there anymore, because the entire clan was utterly wiped out several years ago.”
Judging by Lan Wanyin's composed expression, he had probably no recollection of some Yueyang Chang Sect prior to this, which means it was not a prominent sect. However, the fact that a whole cultivation clan had been wiped out also suggests that it must have been the act of a very ferocious spirit with an immense amount of resentment energy at its disposal—and that could very well be the next dismembered body part they are after, or something vile that was attracted to the area by it. In either case, it isn’t something they could ignore.
“Could you tell me how the Chang Clan was wiped out?”
The charlatan leans in, glad to have someone to gossip with. “Listen closely now. This is strictly what I’ve heard. One night, there was the noise of slamming on doors that suddenly came from the Chang Clan’s residence, followed by shrill screams and cries, as if everyone was locked inside, unable to come out. Isn’t that weird?”
Jiang Xichen nods in agreement. Indeed, assuming the door was bolted from within, the Changs could have just easily opened it on their end, or at least, climb over the walls. Why would they slam on the doors? It was unlikely that the townspeople would be able to unbolt the doors for them anyway.
“The people outside were all quite confused. Everyone knew that the Changs were very powerful because they cultivated. If it was really something that they can’t handle, there was no way any other ordinary people would, right?” The charlatan uncrosses his arms and speaks animatedly with large hand gestures. “That’s why nobody built any ladders or tried to climb over the walls to peek inside. And it’s only the next morning that the doors opened, all on their own, and the sight inside was one to behold! Everyone in the clan, from the masters to servants and even the pets, were all frightened to death!”
Lan Wanyin stops in his tracks and inclines his body around slightly, obviously interested in the tale.
Jiang Xichen raises a finger to his chin, tapping at it lightly. “Do you know why the Chang Clan was wiped out then?”
“Simple. It must have been planned by another cultivation sect! That’s the only plausible reason. The cultivators were trapped inside by something or someone!”
“Did anyone find out exactly what that something or someone was?”
The charlatan laughs. “Young Master, you must be joking, How could we ordinary people possibly know the intricacies about these cases? I’ve only heard some vague talk of how they offended someone whom they shouldn’t have! As a result, everyone in there that night died such horrible deaths. It's said that if you pass by the residence after dusk, you can still hear the noises of the corpses slamming against their coffin lids!”
“Even now? Then I guess we have no choice but to go check it out, right, Wanyin-ge?” Jiang Xichen meets Lan Wanyin's gaze with a smile.
Lan Wanyin nods curtly.
If the disturbance is still continuing after so many years, there is a high chance that whatever initially caused it in the first place is still trapped in the Chang manor. They definitely have to go check it out now.
“G-G-Go?! Haven't you been listening to what I've been saying? I was warning you two to stay away! No one went in ever came back out alive. Even the head of the clan, Chang Ping, is not an exception! Not too long after he returned back from his night hunt, he—"
Lan Wanyin lets out an audible gasp and immediately grabs Jiang Xichen by the elbow, leading the latter away forcefully. Understanding that there is likely something Lan Wanyin wants to speak to him about, along with how it probably is something that can’t be said in public, Jiang Xichen allows the latter to drag him along without putting up a struggle.
It is only after they cross another two streets that Lan Wanyin finally releases his arm. “Song-gongzi, please wait for me back at the teahouse we ate at. You don’t have to come along with me to the Chang Residence. I’ll investigate it alone.”
“What? Why?”
Lan Wanyin glances away, shoulders drooping forward with a defeated sigh. “You have been acting a little strange ever since we realised the body is pointing to Yueyang. Although the reason didn’t occur to me until I heard Chang Ping’s name, it is still my folly for not realizing this earlier.”
Jiang Xichen raises a brow.
This certainly is not the response he was expecting at all. Does the Yueyang Chang clan have something to do with Song Hengyi? If so, then Jiang Xichen would have to manoeuvre around the topic tactfully, because he can’t allow himself to let his identity slip at this point.
“It’s alright. It's all in the past now.”
Lan Wanyin glances up at him with the shadow of a controlled emotion at the depths of his eyes. “You do not have to hide it. Even if your shixiong was not directly involved, he and his partner, Xiao Xingchen, were still the ones that investigated it. The techniques used to wipe out the Chang Clan and Baixue Temple were also similar. There were speculations at some point that the perpetrator for both incidents might be a youth named Xue Yang, before...”
“Before I was proven guilty."
"It is far from being foolproof," Lan Wanyin continues with a grim look and solemn tone. "This is only known amongst the Sect Leaders and the other disciples present in the Lanling Discussion Conference then, but there was actually concrete evidence that Xue Yang was responsible for the Chang Clan massacre. However, because there were traces of resentment energy found at the crime scene along with the fact that Xue Yang was a guest disciple, Lanling Jin was quick to keep this situation under wraps."
Back then, with the atrocities of the Yiling Patriarch still fresh in their mind, the sects were all quick to agree with Lanling Jin. They did not want rumours that there was another potential demonic cultivator to leak to the public yet, not when the siege at the Burial Mounds had only just ended.
No one had the means and resources for another war, and Jin Guangshan knew that. Thus, he skillfully used the absence of Gusu Lan, Yunmeng Jiang and Qinghe Nie at the Conference to persuade all the other Sects present to take his side on the matter.
Word of this reached Qinghe several days later, and the then Sect Leader of Qinghe Nie, Nie Mingjue, immediately hurried over to Lanling Jin and kicked up a storm, adamantly refusing to tolerate Xue Yang no matter what. After a long period of stalemate with Nie Mingjue refusing to compromise, in the end, the Lanling Jin Sect could only give in.
That being said, Lanling Jin later hastily changed their tune at the first opportunity.
Although Jin Guangshan openly promised to execute Xue Yang in front of all the other sects, once the Discussion Conference was over, he immediately retracted his statement and changed the punishment into a life sentence.
Enraged, Nie Mingjue continued pressing them to expedite the execution, yet the Lanling Jin Sect came up with a multitude of reasons, refusing to give him Xue Yang no matter what. The other Sects could only watch silently from the sidelines, unwilling to be involved—and shortly afterward, Nie Mingjue passed away from qi deviation.
Now that the person who gave them the most trouble was gone, the Lanling Jin Sect became even more reckless. Jin Guangshan secretly released Xue Yang out of the dungeons, and the knowledge of this only came to pass after a second similar case happened at Baixue Temple.
However, this time round, the other Sects refused to remain silent and came forth one after another to press for the immediate execution of Xue Yang for his two crimes. With Gusu Lan and Yunmeng Jiang much more stabilised now, Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian joined right into the fray as well.
But then, Xue Yang barged into the Discussion Conference with another man in tow, a survivor by the name of Song Hengyi, and accused the latter of being the actual murderer.
No one believed the tale initially, but when presented with the circumstantial evidence, along with the undeniable traces of resentment energy in Song Hengyi’s body, as well as Chang Ping’s witness statement that Song Hengyi was the one who was responsible for Chang Clan’s massacre instead of Xue Yang, everyone had no choice but to go along with it.
Song Hengyi was charged with both the crime of murder and practicing demonic cultivation, and was to be swiftly executed the next day. Despite so, the actual execution never came to pass, because Song Hengyi committed suicide in Lanling Jin’s dungeon that same night, and the Jins had to settle for publicly scattering his ashes to the wind.
“Let me guess, Wanyin-ge, you are wondering why I am still alive, right?”
There is no noticeable response from Lan Wanyin but Jiang Xichen takes it as a form of affirmation regardless. He crosses his hands behind his head and sets off in the direction the charlatan had pointed them towards.
“I’ll give you two possibilities. One, Xue Yang and I were in cahoots. He killed the Chang Clan while I killed the people at Baixue Temple, but in the end, he betrayed me and handed me over to Lanling Jin. Two, I was framed by him from the start. I never had anything to do with either of the cases. Then, when I was locked up in Koi Tower, someone staged my suicide and deliberately allowed me to escape.”
“Who set you free?”
“Hm? Is Wanyin-ge not even going to consider the first option?”
Lan Wanyin shoots him a look.
Jiang Xichen chuckles good-naturedly. “Well, to be honest, I don’t know who my benefactor really is.”
And that is the truth. At the end of the day, he isn’t Song Hengyi himself, and there is no way he would know the whole truth. He has his own conjectures based on what Lan Wanyin told him, as well as the dying wish Song Hengyi had in the ritual, but something doesn’t add up.
Why did Song Hengyi want to kill Jin Guangyao?
Was it because Jin Guangyao was the one that prosecuted him? However, that made no sense at all. Even if he was really in cahoots with Xue Yang, would that be a sufficient reason to give up your soul to wish death upon someone else?
In addition, there are a large number of unexplainable scars scattered all over Song Hengyi’s body as well. Do those have anything to do with Xue Yang? Or were they from Baixue Temple? Prolonged abuse could be a reason for the massacre too. What if—
A series of bangs interrupts Jiang Xichen's train of thought.
Thud. Thud thud thud!
Each strike is carried out with a great deal of force and at a fast pace, without a single moment of rest. It resembles the sound of one’s fists slamming on doors, yet somewhat different because they are oddly muffled, as if there is something solid separating them from the outside world.
Understanding instantly dawns on both Jiang Xichen and Lan Wanyin’s faces.
This is the slamming on coffins that the charlatan was talking about!
Without passing any further words between them, both men immediately softens their breathing and make their way past the Chang Residence as stealthily as they can, following the sounds that lead them towards a cemetery.
The crypt is eerie in the dwindling twilight. It seems as if the air isn’t moving in it, and the entire place is bereft of any noise except the rhythmic banging. The trees are all bare, their branches curled in a distorted manner, as if the plants themselves are screaming in pain.
A frigid wind speeds across the uncut grass when the two men creep closer to the entrance. There is a pailou3 marked with the dark red “Chang” character, and beyond it are rows and rows of gravestones. They sit at jaunty angles to each other, no two of them the same shape or size. There is a deep, freshly dug hole in the centre of the cemetery, with piles of loose dirt still around its circumference. Faint noises come from within it, suggesting that someone is currently in the middle of digging out graves.
Though, at this distance, it is virtually impossible to see exactly what the gravedigger is after.
Knowing that it will be far more efficient to wait for the gravedigger to emerge with the loot, Jiang Xichen immediately gestures to Lan Wanyin, and they duck behind the pillars of the archway, waiting patiently.
And just as the setting sun dips below the horizon, two people hop up from the hole.
The larger man has another person strapped to his back with a bundle of cloth, and that person appears to be completely lifeless, with their head and limbs hanging limply down, unmoving.
Jiang Xichen steps on a dry twig purposefully, snapping it, and as expected, the surprised gravedigger spins around reflexively at the sound. Unfortunately, there is a mass of thick, black mist clouding the man’s face, hiding his features from view.
The gravedigger snorts with disdain and pulls out a navy Transportation Talisman from his waist. This type of talisman could instantly teleport someone to hundreds of miles away in exchange for a large amount of spiritual energy. Seeing as their target is about to escape, Lan Wanyin quickly unsheathes his weapon and darts into the graveyard.
Sandu lets out a brilliant sword glare in response to its owner’s spiritual energy, dragging him forward and towards the target at breakneck speed. The blade nicks a corner of the gravedigger’s sleeve and the latter retreats immediately, twisting out of the way as he makes a hand seal to summon his own weapon.
The sword that manifests in the gravedigger’s hand is also surrounded by a layer of dense mist, making it impossible to see its colour, length and style. Being unable to estimate the berth of his opponent’s attacks places Lan Wanyin at an obvious disadvantage, but he presses on anyway, determined to not let their only clue get away.
Displeased that Lan Wanyin did not react in the way he planned, the gravedigger then summons the sword back into his hand and charges forward with a great burst of energy, aiming to finish the fight quickly.
The two swords clash head-on several times, sending sparks flying with each powerful strike. It may not be blatantly noticeable to the untrained eye, but Jiang Xichen had sparred with Lan Wanyin several times back during the Cloud Recesses study exchange in their teenage days, and he can see how much more polished and precise the other man’s techniques have become.
Despite this, the gravedigger is able to parry every single one of them—a feat that Jiang Xichen is unsure if he could even mirror in his prime—suggesting that this stranger is extremely familiar with Gusu Lan’s sword techniques.
Lan Wanyin draws back wordlessly, narrowing his steel blue eyes, a layer of frost settling over his face. Then, he continues his attacks in the next moment with even greater tenacity behind each strike, making them hit deeper and harder, as he pushes the gravedigger back into a corner.
Knowing that there is no plausible way he will be able to win in a prolonged fight with a dead person strapped to his back, the gravedigger tightens his grip on the teleportation talisman and channels his spiritual energy into it, activating it with an ominous shade of blue. Unwilling to let the man escape, Jiang Xichen hurriedly claps his hands together, gets down on one knee, and slams his palms on the ground.
He sends a portion of the resentment energy in him out, forcing it to pass through layers of dirt into the depths of the soil, before drawing that up and towards the surface. The solidified energy fashions itself into dark tendrils that shoot up from the ground and grab both of the gravedigger’s legs.
However, the man is completely unbothered.
Without tearing his eyes away from Lan Wanyin, he directs his own spiritual energy down to his ankles and easily blasts both tendrils to smithereens.
Clicking his tongue in displeasure, Jiang Xichen draws the scattered resentment energy back together and forces them to filter deeper into the ground this time, until it penetrates the thick coffin lids and evokes the resentment energy of the Chang corpses.
The corpses pound harder against the lids, the volume spiking to a crescendo that rips the curtain of falling darkness right open. Six tendrils emerge from the ground this time, bursting forth and attaching themselves to the gravedigger's legs. They snake up and around the masked man’s body, their tips sharpened into a point that speeds towards his neck and arms.
Knowing that Jiang Xichen’s aim is to capture him alive, the gravedigger scoffs with visible contempt at the petty trick, and sends spiritual energy out from all the meridians on his body. The countermove rips the dark appendages away far too easily and it is only after that, that he realises he had been fooled.
The burst of energy sent the corpse he was carrying on his back flying off as well!
Lan Wanyin catches the flaccid body with one hand and expertly continues his flurry of attacks with Sandu using the other. Upon noticing what he had just dug out was snatched away, and admitting that he doesn’t stand a chance against Lan Wanyin alone, the gravedigger backs further into his corner and hurls the Transportation Talisman on the ground.
Blue flames surge up at once, and his figure vanishes into the fire.
Jiang Xichen pulls the remnants of the resentment energy he was wielding back into his body. Ignoring the familiar trickle of cold ache easing into his system, he holds a hand out, stopping Lan Wanyin from giving chase.
“Even if we catch him, he could just use another talisman to escape. Let’s see what he dug out instead.”
Lan Wanyin eyes Jiang Xichen with displeasure, looking as if he has something to say about his manipulation of resentment energy, but eventually decides to stay silent instead.
He sets the corpse down on the ground between them and takes a step back. Meanwhile, Jiang Xichen steps forward, kneeling down to take a closer look at the body. There is a huge gash on its head, however there are no traces of blood or brains leaking out. Instead, the delicately-crafted head is filled with wads of blackened cotton.
“Why would anyone plant a fake corpse made of cotton and rags at the Chang Clan’s cemetery?”
Having felt the weight of the body in his hands when he caught it earlier, Lan Wanyin interjects immediately. “Not all of it is fake.”
Jiang Xichen catches on to the underlying meaning behind his partner’s words at once and tears the lapels of the patched clothing apart, only to discover that the torso is real. All the other body parts are made from cotton and sewn carefully onto the torso to trick it into believing that it was still attached to its owner’s body.
“The other qiankun pouches are reacting. This must be the next body part which we are looking for,” Jiang Xichen deduces as he straightens his posture. “It looks like the person who hid the dismembered parts away noticed that we are investigating the case and came to transfer the torso away. That being said, do you have any idea why he was so familiar with your Sect’s sword style?”
It is painfully obvious that Lan Wanyin is also in the midst of thinking about this matter. The grim and cold expression on his face has yet to fade.
Jiang Xichen continues speaking. “His cultivation is quite high, enough to support the energy used for one Transportation Talisman. Moreover, he casted spells on both his face and sword, meaning that his sword is at least somewhat famous in the Cultivation World. Is there a possibility that it is someone that you know really well?”
Lan Wangji and Lan Qiren would both have the capability to do both, and although Jiang Xichen does not think that either of them would commit such a crime, he only knows them on the surface and one’s reputation is never the best gauge for their personality. On the contrary, Lan Wanyin knows them much better and the other man certainly isn’t one who would lie or hide the truth. If he denies something, it means that he has enough conviction to believe otherwise; if someone asks him to lie, he would probably rather silence himself than follow through.
So, if Lan Wanyin were to stand up for them, Jiang Xichen would automatically take his word for it.
Lan Wanyin meets his gaze steely. “No.”
Jiang Xichen relents, placing the torso in a new double-layered qiankun pouch and stores it away properly.
“Let’s head back to town to find an inn for the night. The slamming sounds should cease after this as well, so it’s two birds with one stone.”
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
It is a little past dusk when the men finally make their way back to the town. They stroll past the city gates just as the blues and purples in the sky melt into a shimmering grey under the moonlight, bumping right into the charlatan who is packing up his store for the day.
"You two are finally back! How was it? Did you see anything?"
Jiang Xichen laughs. "Nothing much! We found out that the main cause of the slamming on coffins was actually due to a group of gravediggers looting the cemetery. We took care of them so there wouldn’t be any more disturbances.”
The charlatan gapes. “Wow, I never knew that cultivators had to deal with these too. You guys sure have it tough!”
“That’s right,” Jiang Xichen agrees wholeheartedly, slinging an arm casually around the charlatan's shoulders. "We need a nice place to rest tonight. Won't you recommend us a good inn?"
"Of course, it'll be my pleasure to!" The charlatan points at a building in the distance. "That's my friend's inn—Guihua Pavilion.4 I'll ask him to give you a good discount."
Lan Wanyin makes a face at the name of the inn and immediately turns to leave without another word. Jiang Xichen pats the middle-aged man on his back.
"Sorry, my friend there doesn't swing that way. He has rather unique tastes."
Lan Wanyin whirls around at that, eyes flashing in fury.
The charlatan sweatdrops. "Sirs, you misunderstand. Guihua Pavilion is really just a regular inn. My friend's late wife loved osmanthus."
“That’s what he said, Wanyin-ge, let’s go. I’m so tired right now and we still have a bunch of taxing stuff to do tonight!” Jiang Xichen pleads, shuddering when he recalls how exponentially onerous duetting Rest gets with each increase in the number of body parts.
Lan Wanyin shoots him an exasperated look. Jiang Xichen returns it with a bright grin.
The charlatan blanches at the innuendo.
And that's the reason why Lan Wanyin and Jiang Xichen find themselves ushered into a single room after a full dinner and bath.
“There is only one bed,” Jiang Xichen says.
“There is only one bed,” Lan Wanyin repeats.
“Wait, no. No no no, why is there only one bed?!” Jiang Xichen exclaims as he paces around the room, obviously shaken as he takes in their current predicament. “There must have been a misunderstanding, I’ll go speak to the innkeeper!”
Lan Wanyin raises a brow. Unlike Jiang Xichen, he seems completely composed, and is seated at the low table, with his qin laid out atop it alongside the qiankun pouches. “It's alright, the room is spacious enough. Instead of that, how is the curse mark?”
W-What does Wanyin mean by ‘instead of that’? How is sharing a room a small matter? Is this… Is this the power of a married man?!
Is that why he is undaunted by the prospect of sharing the same living space, the same dining space, and the same sleeping—
"Song-gongzi?"
Jiang Xichen snaps out of his reverie, his face heating up when he catches sight of the curve of Lan Wanyin's nape through the curtain of dark hair. He swallows dryly as he watches the way a stray water droplet trail slowly down the length of Lan Wanyin’s hair to the ends, where it slips off and fall onto the wooden tiles below.
“It’s fine. It started hurting much less after we found the torso.”
Lan Wanyin raises a brow at Jiang Xichen’s response, then, as if he doubts the other man's words, Lan Wanyin tugs the hem of his trousers up anyway, eliciting a gasp from the taller man.
"W-Wanyin-ge?!"
"It does look lighter," Lan Wanyin observes, reaching out to touch the darkened skin. Jiang Xichen yelps in response, body stiffening at once.
Lan Wanyin stills his fingers atop the curse mark, and straightens his posture, peering up from where he is kneeling before Jiang Xichen. "Does it hurt? Perhaps we should put some ointment on it anyway."
"It's really alright. It doesn't hurt."
Jiang Xichen notices the slight furrow to Lan Wanyin's brows and the hint of worry in his eyes. There's no pretense behind his emotions—Lan Wanyin is genuinely worried about him, about Song Hengyi, and Jiang Xichen feels his heart clench painfully.
He really doesn't deserve this kind man, Jiang Xichen finds himself thinking. Not when he is still hiding his identity like this. Not when his hands are still sullied with the blood of numerous innocent lives.
As if on cue, the ritual wounds under the fresh set of cream bandages throb. Jiang Xichen sucks in a deep breath, steeling his nerves for what is to come.
"Wanyin-ge, I will be leaving after we find all the body parts and get rid of the curse mark.”
Lan Wanyin snaps his head up at once, steel blue eyes wide with alarm.
Jiang Xichen doesn't know what to make of Lan Wanyin's expression, doesn't know what to make of the way Lan Wanyin's bottom lip quivers, the way his eyes narrow, the way he frowns and gives a resigned exhale—but he takes in the plethora of these precious little details all the same.
"Why?" Lan Wanyin asks at long last, but his tone is heavy and his voice soft, as if his brain hasn't quite wrapped around what Jiang Xichen had just said yet.
Jiang Xichen swallows dryly. Something tells him he shouldn't answer this, can't answer it. He could easily make up various reasons why, but he doesn't want to lie—not to Lan Wanyin.
"Sorry, I can't tell you that."
"I… understand."
Lan Wanyin doesn't elaborate on his statement. He simply crosses the room and settles silently into the inner half of the bed. Jiang Xichen remains at the sitting area, watching the candlelight cast a flickering orange-yellow hue on the walls before dying out.
Jiang Xichen slips his eyes close as the cool night draft from the window he is propped up against chills him down to the bone. It is frigid and piercing, but the resulting tingling from that can never compare to the emotional desolation he felt when he saw the disappointment and rejection on Lan Wanyin's face earlier.
All he wanted was to protect.
All he ever wanted was to protect.
"Come over here, we can share."
Jiang Xichen cracks an eye open just in time to see Lan Wanyin patting the empty half of the bed beside him.
"Don't worry, I'm fine here."
"The floor is cold, it wouldn't be comfortable." Lan Wanyin turns onto his side, peering straight at Jiang Xichen. "Besides we are both men. It's alright."
Part of Jiang Xichen wants to protest, wants to insist that he still thinks he should take the floor, but this is an invitation by Lan Wanyin himself. It is an invitation to be close, an invitation he yearned for his past life but never received.
And it is with these ulterior motives in mind that Jiang Xichen tucks himself into the bed beside Lan Wanyin. He spends the rest of the night memorizing the sensation of the comfortable warmth pressed up against his arm, and committing every single one of Lan Wanyin's features to memory.
He probably wouldn't last much longer after they manage to find the rest of Nie Mingjue's body, but Jiang Xichen is sure that this sliver of memories and feelings he experienced today will accompany him till the end.
"Thank you, Wanyin."
Notes:
1.The original phrase I wanted to use was “fight poison with poison” (以毒攻毒) but I figured that “fight evil with evil” would fit the context better. Back
2. Door gods 门神 are divine guardians of doors and gates in Chinese folklores. They are used to stop evil from entering, while also encouraging the entry of positive ones. There are two main categories for this: martial door gods 武门神 and literary door gods 文门神. Back
3. Pailou 牌楼 is a chinese-style archway. It is also known by this other name: paifang 牌坊. Back
4. The actual full Chinese name that I was going for for Guihua Pavilion is Guihua Lou 桂花楼. Guihua refers to osmanthus flowers, which was very popular back then and used to make desserts, teas, liquor, etc. Names involving flowers were also common for brothels back in ancient China (according to… dramas, that is). Back
***
This end notes scene is set before the start of this chapter, when Jiang Xichen is still fast asleep and dreaming of the flashback.
It is the frigid morning air that rouses Lan Wanyin from his slumber. Half-asleep, he creeps closer to the flames, feeling new kindling to the fire before it completely dies out.
Muffled mumbling comes from behind him and Lan Wanyin whirls around to catch sight of Jiang Xichen asleep against the thick trunk of a tree, head tilted to the side and bangs falling into his eyes.
Lan Wanyin's eyes widen momentarily, his heart speeding up at once—and that's all it takes for the magic to break. The panic clears his head, wakes him up fully, and all that's left is the figure of his travelling partner that reminds him a little too much of his old friend.
They look physically different, but have similar smiles and mannerisms.
Song Hengyi groans lowly in his sleep, brows furrowing, face twisted in pain—obviously tormented by a terrible nightmare—and Lan Wanyin reaches out against his better judgement, gingerly brushing the ebony strands matted to the other man's face to the side.
It doesn't help. Perhaps he should try to wake him up?
Lan Wanyin taps him lightly on the shoulder. "Song-gongzi."
Dark eyes snap open at once and they flitter wildly about, trying desperately to take in the surroundings. Afraid that he might have startled the other man somehow, Lan Wanyin quickly reaches out again in an attempt to calm him down.
"Song-gongzi?"
"Get lost!" Song Hengyi lashes out, flinging his hand in a wide arc. His fingers strike Lan Wanyin's wrist mid-swing, blunt nails grazing soft flesh, but the sharp pain from that injury is nothing compared to the burning ache that flares up in his chest from those words.
He had heard those words before, many many years ago, in the darkness of that one cave. Jiang Xichen had pushed him away with repeats of the same two words over and over again.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"
"It's fine."
"I—"
Don't apologise. There is no need for Song Hengyi to apologise because he doesn't know the story behind those two words, and will never know the extent of emotions simply hearing them ignite in him.
Lan Wanyin clenches his fist tighter, twisting his fingers into white robes and creasing them as he turns back to Song Hengyi. He stares at Song Hengyi for a short period, focusing on taking in all the details that are different between the man before him and the man from his memories, until the aching in his chest becomes a little too hard for him to bear alone.
Because no matter how similar they are, Song Hengyi is not Jiang Xichen, and…
And his Xichen-ge has been dead for the past seven years.
*₊°。 ❀°。°✿ FANART CORNER ✿° .❀。• *
Lan Wanyin (artist: Starlightgateway)
Chapter 16: Revelation II
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
<PRESENT>
The ghost hand points them in the southeastern direction next, towards Shudong—a place infamous for heavy fogs, and the sporadic mists only grow more omnipresent at this time of the year, with the scorching heat from the sun bearing down on its many rivers and valleys. Towering peaks and rough terrain impede the flow of air, enabling the thick fogs to linger on seemingly indefinitely.
Jiang Xichen and Lan Wanyin continue down the path the left arm guides them on for the next two weeks, walking through the enveloping haze until they chance upon a small village which appears to be completely deserted at first.
There are several rails of fences encircling thatched houses made from mud. A large, bright-feathered rooster stands single-legged on a roof, peering downward loftily at the two cultivators while a brood of colourful chicks scutter around their feet, pecking the ground earnestly for rice grains.2
Jiang Xichen crumbles one half of a mantou between his fingers and scatters the crumbs to the hungry birds, but they ignore the treat completely, choosing to trot away from him instead. Jiang Xichen raises a brow, leaning forward to scrutinise the chicks with a judgemental gaze. “Hm? Are you all looking down on staple foods?”
“Maybe they just do not like you.”
“How could you?” Jiang Xichen gasps, affronted, and passes the remaining half of the bun to the other man. “If Wanyin-ge says that, then you should try it too then. I bet they wouldn’t even give you the time of day!”
Lan Wanyin rolls his eyes, but the competitive streak in him revs to life all the same. Grabbing the bun with a huff, Lan Wanyin lowers himself into a crouch in the next moment, before gently holding out a hand with several crumbs to the chicks.
In response to that, they start gingerly approaching the food, pecking at it cautiously. It doesn’t take much longer after that for them all to flock around the white-clothed gentleman, eagerly clucking for another serving.
Lan Wanyin glances up at Jiang Xichen, a corner of his lips raised in a taunting smirk.
Jiang Xichen makes a face, sulking slightly as he steps gloomily away from the animal whisperer and heads down the path towards the other end of the village, where he finds a fork road leading to three different directions.
Of these, two of them are very well-defined with trails of vegetation trodden underfoot and the exposed soil covered with a great number of footprints. Yet, the third path is overrun with weeds. A slanted square sign fashioned from a piece of rock is positioned at the side of this road, displaying two chinese characters. However, age and accumulated weathering has cracked the sign down the middle, right through the complex top character, making it impossible to read.
Even after staring at it for a long time, Jiang Xichen still can't figure out what it is.
Coincidentally, the direction that the left arm pointed to is down this path.
Jiang Xichen bends down and pushes the weeds around the rock aside, causing a few fragments to come loose and muddle the character even more.
"This path leads to Yi City. The first character on the sign is 'Yi'."
Jiang Xichen turns his attention to the approaching man. "How did you read that?"
"I asked," Lan Wanyin answers with an indifferent tone, gesturing towards the villagers with one hand. Jiang Xichen follows the direction he is pointing at and finds a group of women both young and old, peering out at them surreptitiously from the entranceway of one of the houses. Upon meeting Jiang Xichen's eyes, their shy gazes all turn into varying amounts of uneasiness and they hurriedly look away, tightening their grips on their dustpans nervously.
Jiang Xichen narrows his eyes, mumbling lowly under his breath. "First birds, now women?"
"Pardon?"
Jiang Xichen kicks a small innocent chunk of rock that was by his feet away and plasters on a bright smile. "I said, is the Yi here the Yi in chivalry?"
"Yes and no. The character is the same but the meaning is different. It doesn't refer to chivalry, but instead, to a coffin home."
A coffin home? Who would name their town something this inauspicious?
As if guessing Jiang Xichen's thoughts, Lan Wanyin continues. "It seems that since a long time ago, a good number of the people living in that city have passed early, and so, many coffin homes were constructed to help hold the corpses temporarily. Along the way, the people there have honed their specialty in making coffins, paper money, and other burial goods, and that gave the place its name."
"But wouldn't such a name deter others from going near it?"
"Exactly. The villagers that I spoke to informed me that they rarely ever head up to Yi City. The people inside seldom leave either. They used to come out to sell their wares, but they have stopped doing even that in recent years."
"So almost nobody has walked on this same path for years." Jiang Xichen's expression grows grim. "Well, at least it explains why it’s so overgrown and deserted.”
As the two men approach their destination, they notice that the weeds gradually become fewer and the path widens, making their arduous trek much easier.
Yet, somehow, the fog grows objectively denser.
It becomes nearly impossible for them to see much further in front of themselves, and it is only when the fingers of the dismembered ghost hand curl back and form a fist, that the duo realises there is a city gate at the end of the long path.
The city's structures appear completely dilapidated, with faded peeling paint clearly showing the age and lack of maintenance on its exterior walls. The twin doors at the entrance are left unlatched and ajar, appearing both welcoming and yet extremely disconcerting, as if there is a huge secret lying within that's waiting to be uncovered.
An odd sense of foreboding in them builds and compounds the closer they draw to their destination, when their vision clears sufficiently for them to notice the looming cliffs surrounding Yi City. They are all tilted towards the centre at steep angles, towering over the small city centre in a menacing and suffocating manner, looking as though they will collapse at any given moment.
"The fengshui here is terrible," Jiang Xichen comments as he casts a brief glance around the surroundings.
Lan Wanyin nods in agreement. "It is all barren mountains and turbulent rivers, and there are traces of natural gusts of sinister energy here too."
The two halt before the city gates and share a look.
They do not exchange any words but they both instinctively feel the danger that seemingly looms behind the doors—an uneasy tension that prickles across the surface of their skin like jolts of electricity, along with their gut feeling screaming at them to leave immediately.
Jiang Xichen takes a step forward, pressing his palms against the doors.
Lan Wanyin tightens his grip on the hilt of Sandu, preparing to draw it instantly if necessary.
Squeak.
Supported by rusty hinges that are on the verge of snapping, the two city doors slowly creak open. However, what greets them is neither bustling streets nor violent spirits, but instead, simply an all-enveloping shade of pure white.
The fog inside the city is several times denser, reducing their visibility to a small range that only spans several meters, making them unable to see further than the straight path ahead and the brooding houses that flank it.
"It's peculiar," Jiang Xichen whispers, taking a step closer to Lan Wanyin on the spur of the moment. Lan Wanyin glances up at him in response, lifting a brow, but makes no move to pull away. "It's daytime, yet there is no one around."
Indeed, the entire city is unnaturally silent, and not even a single note of caws or barks can be heard—just as if the whole place is just waiting quietly for an impending cue.
And the idea unnerves the two men.
However, they came here with a purpose and so they can only trudge onward, following the arm as it directs them down the street.
Yet, the further they go into the city, the thicker and heavier the fog becomes, as if evil energy has permeated the air around them. They can still see up to ten steps ahead initially but gradually, it became impossible to make out anything more than five steps away. And now, they are unable to even clearly see the outlines of their hands held out right in front of them.
A thought suddenly pops into Jiang Xichen's mind: if someone took advantage of this fog and snuck between them, they might not even notice it.
"Wanyin-ge, why don't we stick closer together?"
There is no response.
Jiang Xichen is about to continue speaking when a hand suddenly wraps around his right wrist, grasping it firmly. Jiang Xichen's jaw drops, surprised at Lan Wanyin's bold move, but quickly realises that the other man is crouched down. He squats down as well, squinting at the object by Lan Wanyin's feet.
It is the head of a man, with thick brows, large sinister glowing eyes and two smudges of rouge on his cheeks that stand out acutely.
It bears an uncanny resemblance to a human head, but there is something about it that seems completely off. For instance, the skin is much too pale, and Jiang Xichen had seen enough corpses in his previous lifetime to know that even bodies drained completely of blood will still never be this white.
Jiang Xichen picks up the head gingerly.
It is a lot lighter than expected, reminding him of the false corpse at Chang Residence. Humming under his breath, he then squeezes the head between his two hands. A large part of the man’s face immediately sinks in under the force, crumpling.
"A paper head," Lan Wanyin notes solemnly.
The paper head is skilfully crafted. Although the makeup is overly dramatic, the features are very delicate. The strands of hair on the head of the mannequin are all firmly attached to the scalp, each piece jet-black and glossy, looking just as if the craftsmen took real human hair and glued it on.
"It was thrown at me," Lan Wanyin clarifies, and Jiang Xichen narrows his eyes in suspicion.
Did someone pull off the puppet's head and throw it onto the streets?
But why would anyone do that? Was it even the work of a human? There is seemingly no one present in this ghost town after all.
Suddenly, a thin shadow sweeps past Jiang Xichen, brushing against his left shoulder and instantly disappears into the thick fog. Lan Wanyin rises to his feet at once. Sandu unsheathes on its own in response, darting down the street to chase the thin figure.
Jiang Xichen backhandedly grabs Lan Wanyin's arm. "Don't bother. Instead of sending your weapon out, we should keep it close just in case there are others like it around."
Even if there is only one of its kind, there is no guarantee that it wouldn't do more the next time it passes them by.
Nodding briefly, Lan Wanyin summons Sandu back to its sheath. But very soon, the duo will realise that the shadow isn't the strangest thing they will witness that night.
There is another set of weird noises from within the dense fog—a series of light footsteps accompanied by a sharp ta-ta-ta, as if someone is rapidly rapping the end of a bamboo pole on the ground—and it is coming straight towards them. The peculiar noise would seem loud at times then soft, far then near, making it virtually impossible for them to determine where or what exactly is making the sound.
Cursing under his breath, Jiang Xichen hastily fishes out a gloom-burning talisman and tosses it forward. If there is anything malicious possessing resentment energy in its vicinity, the talisman will burn with a green flame, and the resulting fire will both alert them of the danger as well as light up the area momentarily.
However, the talisman falls limply onto the ground, unreactive.
“It might not be malicious,” Lan Wanyin concludes. "Or-"
“Or it could possibly be a high-level ghoul that has gotten adept at hiding its presence,” Jiang Xichen finishes the sentence for the other man. “Wanyin-ge, you should fly up using Sandu to scout the area."
Lan Wanyin shoots him a pointed look. “The fog does not seem to have formed naturally. It is too dangerous to leave you down here alone.”
“Do I seem that defenceless?” Jiang Xichen gasps in sheer mortification, then quickly backpedals. “Actually, wait, don’t answer that. I have a feeling I wouldn’t like the answer.”
“Song-gongzi, unfortunately, you have yet to do anything that proves otherwise.”
“Wanyin-ge, I told you not to answer it!”
Jiang Xichen swears he hears a muffled chuckle from Lan Wanyin, but he doesn’t have the time to pursue the matter because the sudden sound of footsteps amidst the fog in their northwestern direction distracts them.
The footsteps stagger in a tremendously cumbersome way, as if the person is stumbling and lugging something heavy behind themselves. Immediately afterwards, more footsteps come from the front, sides and back.
Although the fog is too thick to make out any figures, the overpoweringly rancid stench is enough for Jiang Xichen to identify their enemies.
It is an entire horde of low-level walking corpses.
But of course, that would not be enough to deter Jiang Xichen, and he cracks his knuckles, all prepared to wield a burst of resentment energy to send the approaching foes flying. But before he can do so, Sandu flashes out with a bright glare, drawing a distinct circle in the air and tearing through the fog before returning to its sheath.
The walking corpses fall over, their bodies cleanly cut into half.
“Do not push yourself,” Lan Wanyin says then, before perking up when another round of heavy footsteps come from all around them. “Stay close.”
Jiang Xichen moves closer to Lan Wanyin at that, the back of their hands brushing together for a split second, and Jiang Xichen recoils at once, eyes narrowing in confusion. Alarm bells ring in his head, alerting him to the disconcerting possibility that the person beside him isn’t Lan Wanyin.
It shouldn’t be possible because they had been sticking so close this whole time, but the thick mist surrounding them doesn’t help his mounting suspicions. He can’t clearly make out who the shadowy silhouette silently standing beside him is, and that is sufficient for Jiang Xichen to raise doubts.
The self-proclaimed rouge cultivator takes several steps backwards, putting some distance between himself and the silhouette before taking in a deep breath and yelling.
“Wanyin-ge, behind you!"
Sandu’s sword glare lights up an area around seven steps away from Jiang Xichen, meaning the person beside him is a complete stranger!
A shadow flashes before Jiang Xichen’s eyes, swooping towards him at an inhuman speed with an outstretched arm. His face is shrouded by a thick layer of black mist, but Jiang Xichen does not require any more clues to be able to identify the gravedigger.
Ever since they snatched the torso from him at Yueyang Chang’s cemetery, Jiang Xichen had predicted that he would definitely attack them again at any given opportunity to reclaim the body part—and Yi City with its perpetually dense fog would indisputably be the best place for that.
Jiang Xichen retaliates immediately, fashioning a small amount of resentment energy into a sharp dagger-like object which he then brandishes in a huge arc, slicing the gravedigger right across his chest.
The gravedigger leaps backwards instantly, pressing a hand to his wound and makes a disgruntled sound of confusion.
Jiang Xichen smirks.
He doesn't blame the gravedigger for being ignorant and assuming he did not have a weapon. He really does not have one after all—not a conventional one, at least.
Being able to manipulate and imbue objects with resentment energy is one of the recognisable traits that the Yiling Patriarch had, and he would probably never attempt to use it if not for the low visibility in this city.
Still, it is obvious that his opponent has a high level of cultivation and there is no way Jiang Xichen would take the risk of facing him alone. He does not wish to draw unnecessary attention to himself.
"Wanyin-ge, the gravedigger is right beside me!"
Sandu flashes out in a swift fierce sweep.
The gravedigger fends it off with his own weapon. Their sword auras collide head on, and a loud resulting boom resounds hollowly around the vast expanse of empty space in the middle of Yi City.
Jiang Xichen clicks his tongue.
Their current situation is far from optimistic. In fact, Lan Wanyin is at an obvious disadvantage.
Firstly, unlike Sandu, the gravedigger's sword glare is concealed by a black mist, allowing it to be visually undetectable within the white fog. Secondly, they have already established that the enemy is very familiar with the Gusu Lan’s sword techniques, enough to parry Lan Wanyin’s all of attacks easily. And lastly, although both of them are fighting blindly in the fog, their positions are very different—the gravedigger is able to fight however he wants, yet Lan Wanyin has to be careful because he is obviously a liability.
Besides, there is no telling if there are more walking corpses lurking around them.
Jiang Xichen listens to the clashes of the blades with bated breath, his chest tightening when he hears a muffled grunt from afar.
“Wanyin-ge? Are you hurt?!”
“Ridiculous.”
The way Lan Wanyin seems so affronted at the prospect of the gravedigger being able to injure him, brings a chuckle of amusement bubbling out from Jiang Xichen despite his earlier worries. Meanwhile, the gravedigger himself scoffs bitterly at the ridicule and throws himself back into the fight with even more vigour.
His attacks span wider in range, with a tenacity that sends sparks flying. Lan Wanyin meets him blow for blow, steadily drawing the fight further and further away from Jiang Xichen.
It is his silent way of telling Jiang Xichen to take the chance to investigate the state of the city while he distracts the enemy, and Jiang Xichen is more than happy to comply because he knows it will be far easier for Lan Wanyin to fight if he is alone.
Jiang Xichen begins his mission by knocking on doors, trying to find a house with someone inside it. However, every household by the street keeps their doors tightly shut, refraining from opening it no matter how hard he knocked. Then, finally, at his thirteenth shop, the door shifts slightly, revealing a thin, black sliver.
It is very dark on the other side of the door, not allowing Jiang Xichen to make out what is behind the slit. The person who opened it doesn’t say anything either. Unbothered, Jiang Xichen takes a step forward, jamming his foot into the slit.
He is not going to take any chance of having the owner shut the door on him.
“Pardon, but it’s my first time in this city. I got lost in the fog and am very tired after walking for a long time. Would it be possible for you to lend me your shop so that I can rest a little?”
An old, hoarse voice leaks from the slit. “My shop is not for travellers to rest.”
“Don’t say that, Manager. I am willing to pay. This is the only shop that I found with someone inside and I am too exhausted to search any longer.”
There is a long pause from both parties before the slit opens further to let him in.
Jiang Xichen makes out the blurry figure of a grey-haired, expressionless woman standing behind the door. Although she has a hunched back and appears rather elderly at first glance, she actually does not have a lot of wrinkles or age spots. She can easily pass for a middle-aged woman if not for the slow and laborious manner each of her motions look.
The woman moves to the side, waiting for Jiang Xichen to enter before she immediately closes the door again, plunging the room back to pitch-darkness.
Jiang Xichen raises a brow. “Why are there no lights?”
“I have no need for it. The lamps and candles are on the table, light it yourself.”
Jiang Xichen uses his memory of the glimpse he caught of the room's interior to manoeuvre to the table and lights the very tip of the dirty candlewick, producing a flickering and sooty flame. He then turns his attention to the decorations within the shop’s central chamber—a room full of people crammed inside, lined up from shoulders to shoulders and heels to heels. Each and every single one of them seem to be frozen perfectly still, with their eyes wide open, staring straight at him without a single blink.
Jiang Xichen smiles. “Did you make all of these paper mannequins yourself, Manager? They are quite well-made.”
The mannequins’ heads and bodies are delicately crafted. The owner had taken age and gender into account as well, making the puppets look very similar to actual humans.
All the men here are crafted with tall, sturdy bodies and angered expressions, while the women are fair-featured beauties, with hair either in single or double buns. Even when they are covered with layers of loose-fitting paper clothes, it is still easy to tell that they have graceful postures. The patterns painted on their clothes are also very detailed, almost finer than those of real brocade robes. On each mannequin’s cheeks, there are two smears of rouge, forming a substitute for a living person’s rosy complexion.
Jiang Xichen lights up the few candlesticks on the other table in the room as well, and the resulting yellow light illuminates most corners of the house. Aside from the paper mannequins, he also finds two wreaths on both sides of the room, overlooking heaps of paper gold, hell notes and pagodas propped up against the walls.
He turns his attention back to the old woman. “Would it be possible for me to borrow your kitchen? I am quite hungry."
“The kitchen is in the back. Use it as you please.” After saying that, the old woman glowers at the lamp in Jiang Xichen’s hand as if she dislikes the presence of any light before swiftly dodging into another room, and forcefully slams the door shut behind herself.
Jiang Xichen shrugs the lack of hospitality away and jovially steps into the kitchen.
It is not that he is actually famished, but the state of the kitchen tells a lot about a person’s current circumstances, and by extension, the current state of the city—and the condition this particular kitchen is in is horrible, to say the least.
Upon opening the door, he is overwhelmed by a foul stench, reminiscent of the air back on the Burial Mounds, but there is something slightly different. Jiang Xichen traces the origin of the smell to a chest on the ground, where he finds ham and chicken within. A surplus of green blotches litter the surface of the red meat, while white coiling maggots bury themselves within the rotting flesh.
The kitchen does not appear to be used in more than a year, with a huge amount of accumulated dust and cobwebs spanning the corners, suggesting that the old woman definitely hasn’t been eating. Thus, she is either lying about being the shopkeeper, or she simply does not need to eat.
Jiang Xichen steps back into the shop area, moving to the ajar door of the room she is in, and enters it.
She is sitting all alone with her head hanging low, as if she hasn’t noticed that someone else is in the room with her. A cloth lies on her knees, tightly stretched with an embroidery frame, and she leans over the embroidery, preoccupied with her futile attempts at threading the needle.
“You should at least light the lamp if you are threading a needle. Here, allow me help,” Jiang Xichen offers as he sits down beside her.
He takes over the needle and thread from her promptly, and successfully guides the thread through before passing it back to her. She does not thank him, but instead, silently resumes her embroidery at once. Her sewing skills are horrid, each movement imprecise and full of errors, making the new resulting patterns very different in contrast to the faded threads above, which were woven neatly into delicately-made patterns.
Jiang Xichen continues sitting beside her for another few moments, simply soaking in the silence as he watches her chest rise and fall with each shallow breath, and notices how she has not been blinking at all. Even when she tries to direct her attention to something else, she will always turn her head and neck instead of moving her eyeballs—and that is because living corpses are unable to perform an action as subtle as that.
In a way, living corpses are far more superior than walking ones, because they do not decay.
Walking corpses are, at its core, just corpses. Their pungent stench allows others to notice them easily, and their rotting bodies are akin to a countdown timer. On the other hand, these two disadvantages do not apply to a living corpse simply because they still breathe and their hearts still beat.
Living corpses do not rot.
Because of this, some living corpses may not know that they are already dead, and Jiang Xichen does not have the heart to break the news to this old woman, not when she is still so adamant on finishing her embroidery project.
“Manager,” Jiang Xichen whispers, rising to his feet. “Thank you for your hospitality. I will be leaving now.”
All in all, there is no need for him to stay here any longer.
Given that this old woman seems to have absolutely no idea about her current condition as a living corpse, it can only mean that all the other townspeople are either dead or in the same state. If they are all in similar conditions, then this would become their new ‘normal’ and no one would notice each other’s abnormalities.
But for this to work, someone or something must have turned the entire city’s population within a short period of time, then left them here for at least a year.
In other words, this is not a coincidence but a carefully crafted plan.
It is not a coincidence that the left arm pointed them to this particular city, but instead, someone planted one of the remaining body parts in Yi City in order to lead them here.
To lead them to their meticulously crafted stage.
And if that person happens to be the gravedigger…
Jiang Xichen rushes out of the old woman's house at once, his gut twisting in both fear and apprehension at the potential number of prepared traps that are lying around, waiting for Lan Wanyin to fall into them. He grits his teeth, trying to calm the panicked thundering of his heartbeat so he can hear further and better, hear any signs of the familiar clanging of metal against metal, but what catches his attention instead is a series of crisp taps of a bamboo pole against the ground.
He turns immediately, peering down at a long, empty cobbled path. It feels oddly unnerving with the shroud of thinning mist, and Jiang Xichen tenses up when he notices a silhouette in the distance, slowly ambling towards him.
It's the figure of a short and skinny young girl, dressed in rags and clutching a white cane. Her movements are nimble and swift, nothing akin to that of a blind individual except for her pair of white, pupil-less eyes.
"This guniang1," Jiang Xichen calls warily. "You have been following me and my friend around since we entered the city. Do you need anything from us?"
The girl widens her eyes, two streaks of crimson surging out from within. A third pool of blood gushes out when she opens her mouth, showing off a bloodied stub where her tongue once belonged.
Jiang Xichen narrows his eyes in response. "You want us to help you find your tongue?"
The girl shakes her head rapidly from side to side. She stomps around anxiously, using her pole to scribble atop the ground, drawing a mess of stick-figures that Jiang Xichen could not make heads or tails of.
He doesn't have the patience to do so right now either, because the thought that Lan Wanyin might be injured at this very moment is keeping him too high-strung.
"I'm sorry but—" Jiang Xichen begins, but a series of sprinting footsteps and ragged panting from the far end of the street interrupts him in the middle of his sentence.
The girl's spirit takes several steps backwards, seemingly alarmed by the commotion, and dissipates just when a figure clumsily breaks through the fog and rushes over, straight towards Jiang Xichen.
The person is dressed fully in black, making the thick layer of bandages covering his eyes stand out. He staggers unsteadily on his feet, leaning his weight almost entirely on a single foot as he hobbles down the path. Something that closely resembles the size and shape of a sword hangs by his waist, enveloped in a bundle of black cloth.
A group of walking corpses follows the unsuspecting stranger through the fog, snarling with open jaws as they close in on him from his blind spot.
"Behind you!" Jiang Xichen yells, and the person swivels on his heel within the next heartbeat, facing the onslaught of rotten bodies with a swift unsheathing of his sword. The swoosh of wind that accompanies the sword as it is pulled out of its scabbard is light and mellifluous, and before Jiang Xichen can fully register the man's movement, his bright limpid sword glare slices the mist open. The resulting impact extends out with the wind in a wide arc, expanding until it rends each and every mangled corpse cleanly into two.
The stranger heaves a sigh of relief, lowering his weapon, but the battle is far from over.
Strange splashing noises come from the fallen corpses, and they bloat up almost comically before exploding. Massive clouds of black-red powder spurt out from their open wounds, enveloping the blind man entirely from head to toe. With nowhere to hide, he stands firmly in his spot, covering his nose and mouth with one hand while raising the sword in the other.
A second group of walking corpses ambles towards him.
"Wait, you shouldn't—" Jiang Xichen begins but the man hastily slashes out again before he finishes his sentence.
More corpse-poisoning powder pours out into the air.
The person stumbles backwards, alarmed and gasping, unwittingly inhaling more of the powder as a result. He chokes on it immediately, spluttering, his body rapidly stiffening from the onset of the powerful effects of overdose.
Come over here, Jiang Xichen wants to shout, but he knows that the man likely can’t walk anymore. In fact, he looks as if he is on the verge of losing his balance and about to fall over his own feet. However, his arm is still awkwardly outstretched, brandishing his sword with rigid motions—nothing at all remotely similar to the grace and elegance he displayed earlier.
A third group advances towards the struggling blind man.
Jiang Xichen immediately jumps into motion. He would never forgive himself if he allowed the man before him to die without trying to help at least. Besides, there is no saying how many more walking corpses are lurking around—it might be too dangerous for him to continue aimlessly searching for Lan Wanyin.
With that train of thought, Jiang Xichen quickly sends out a burst of resentment energy. He winds the solidified darkness in a huge arc around the blind cultivator, extending it upwards to fend off the pouncing attacks from the snarling corpses.
He waits for them to run into the obstacle, then expertly shoves the whole crafted wall out before pulling it back in like a whip in the same moment. The horde flies backwards, collapsing in a heap on the cobbled path as Jiang Xichen binds the stranger with the dark energy and all but drags him along into the old woman's home.
Jiang Xichen sets him down on the ground before turning, drawing the tendrils of dark energy back into himself while bolting the door tightly shut behind them. The stranger heaves, panting and wheezing painfully as he forcefully drags himself into an upright position. He is in a state of only half-consciousness, appearing as if there is very little energy left in him.
“Who are you?” The blind cultivator croaks, his voice tired and hoarse, before coughing several times. He hurriedly covers his mouth with his hand, as though he is trying to prevent any powder that he might cough out from affecting his benefactor.
“A wandering rogue cultivator,” Jiang Xichen replies simply, keeping his answer as concise as possible. “Stay here for now and rest. You are under corpse poisoning.”
“Is it severe?”
Jiang Xichen folds his hands across his chest and takes in the sight of the purplish tinge to the man's face. He is probably at the age between a boy and a man, with relatively handsome features, and a lot of potential if his sword moves earlier were anything to go by.
It is a shame for him to pass this early in his life.
“Unfortunately, it has gone beyond the point where treatment would be effective.”
The man sighs. “If it is severe, then what is the point of me staying here? If it is long past hope, why not use the chance to kill a few more corpses before I become one as well? Besides, I have already killed a number of them in this city, but each time, a new horde would appear again shortly after. They are after me. If I stay here, you would be implicated as well.”
Jiang Xichen presses his body against the door and peers out through the door slit. There are still only several walking corpses roaming on the streets, none of them seemingly able to detect where they are yet. However, there is no telling how many more corpses there are in this place and whether their sole target is this man he had just saved.
In any case, it definitely is not safe on the streets and there is no way Jiang Xichen can bring himself to leave this dying man alone.
He has to trust that Lan Wanyin has gotten strong enough during these seven years and would be unscathed.
“Well, there is another solution to this. If we find out who or what is controlling the corpses, we might be able to appease them. Do you happen to know why Yi City became this way?”
The injured man shakes his head. “No. I am only a roaming cul… roaming around the area. I heard about the strange events here and decided to night-hunt in this city. But the living and walking corpses here are of a completely different level. Some move too quickly to take precautions against and others would release corpse-poisoning powder when wounded. However, if you don’t kill them, they will pounce on you and attack, which also results in poisoning as well…”
“Corpse-poisoning powder shouldn’t be present in such high quantities on walking corpses. There has to be someone who planted it, in order to turn the city into its current state,” Jiang Xichen muses. “Did you meet anyone else here?”
The cultivator shakes his head.
With an audible sigh, he then reaches out to prop his sword up against the table. The black cloth wrapped around it has somewhat loosened, revealing the body of the sword. With just a single glance, Jiang Xichen can tell at once that the weapon is forged with unparalleled skill and an exceptional artistic sense. There is a pure and bright sense of beauty to the weapon itself, with its sheath glistening in the warm colour of bronze, and its intricate hollowed out patterns of frost catching the candlelight at an angle, shining as though it is made of silver stars and luminescent flecks of snowflakes.
Yet, as ethereal as the sword appears to be, it is not one that Jiang Xichen recognises and he tears his gaze away.
It might be rare for a rogue cultivator to possess a spiritual sword of this calibre, but it isn't impossible. Maybe he helped a rich family, or perhaps he defected from a major Sect. In either case, it really isn't in Jiang Xichen's place to probe for more information.
"Pardon but I think I hear footsteps." The blind cultivator pales, his voice trembling slightly. "There are many of them, all heading this way."
Jiang Xichen peers through the door slit once again.
The streets are now crawling with numerous walking corpses. There are possibly hundreds of them, and even more appear to be coming from a distance. Unlike earlier, all of them lumber in their direction in straight lines, as if they have somehow already ascertained their position and are currently going in for the kill.
"As I mentioned earlier, it's best that I leave. Shut the door tightly behind me."
Jiang Xichen turns his attention back to the man and places a hand firmly on his shoulder, a gesture suggesting that he should remain seated. "You are in no state to even move right now. Besides, fighting would only serve to make the poison circulate faster."
The man shakes his head fervently. "But I can't possibly implicate you! If this goes on, we would both succumb to…"
"Listen, there is no guarantee that your decoy would work either. I am here to night-hunt just like you, so if the walking corpses are after any trespassers, they would likely be after me too. In any case, even if they are not after me now, they would certainly be very soon, if you continue moving.”
“But who would fight, if not us? Our foe has countless corpse puppets at his disposal but on the other hand, there is only the two of us."
Jiang Xichen sucks in a deep breath. "It's not just the two of us."
Indeed, it isn't just the two of them. There are countless paper mannequins in this room as well—all of them perfectly useful weapons he can wield. And the thing is, Jiang Xichen has done it before, a lifetime ago.
He had imbued Zidian with resentment energy then so he could use the tool even without a Golden Core. By manipulating the resentment energy he poured into Zidian, he could by extension, control Zidian as well.
It shouldn't be that far off from doing the same to these lifeless mannequins, making them into puppets he could control. But the problem doesn't lie with getting this to work, but with getting it to last.
Song Hengyi's body has numerous subtle differences as compared to his former shell. The mere presence of a Golden Core, however fragmented, would interfere with his flow and prolonged manipulation of resentment energy.
Both types of energy are like yin and yang, and have to be in equilibrium at all times. Thus, there is no telling what would happen to his body and core if he were to draw out and exemplify the dark yin energy at a level enough to control all the mannequins in this room.
The rebound would be enormous—he had experienced the pain once on Dafan mountain, and he had only amassed more resentment energy on his journey since then.
"This Young Master, is something the matter?"
Jiang Xichen glances from the advancing corpses to the injured cultivator to the paper mannequins. He chuckles dryly.
"Don't worry, you can just sit back and relax. It will be over soon.”
The first mannequin Jiang Xichen rouses is a 'Nether Brawler', a substitute puppet usually used to protect the dead person's spirit in the netherworld. To fulfil that purpose, he is crafted with a fierce face and rippling muscles, and it immediately heaves the hacking sabre by his feet up and swings it over his broad shoulders.
Beside him, a female mannequin donning fine robes languidly raises her right hand. The lady tilts her head, insouciantly appreciating her long, blood-red nails before peering over at the stirring golden boy and jade girl behind her.
The boy playfully tugs on the girl's braid and she pouts at him in retaliation. When he does not cease his actions, a tongue almost nine inches long rapidly darts out from her mouth, stabbing a huge hole into his chest. However, the latter does not even flinch from the injury. Instead, he opens his mouth wide, revealing two rows of ghastly white fangs that he sinks straight into the girl's arm. She counters it with a vicious slap across his face and the two start fighting.
Meanwhile, one by one, the other dozens of puppets start moving. The rustling noise of paper compounds as they jolt, stretching their limbs.
"Hold your breath," Jiang Xichen warns, then moves to the side, leaving a clear straight path free for their use.
He bows, making a dramatic gesture of invitation.
Almost at once, the wooden doors spring open. The sickeningly sweet stench of the corpse-poisoning powder pours into the room and both men immediately cover their faces with their sleeves.
With a booming battle cry, the Nether Brawler charges out onto the streets and the rest of mannequins follow after him without an ounce of hesitation.
Both men hold their breaths until the last paper mannequin leaves and the doors shut tightly behind them.
The stranger wheezes painfully. "Was that… Did you use demonic cultivation?"
Jiang Xichen stills.
The stranger continues speaking after a short pause. "It is indeed the best method to deal with the corpses outside. However, demonic cultivation is highly dangerous. This path of cultivation can easily lead to the backfiring one's powers. Even the founder of the path, the Yiling Patriarch, could not avoid such a fateful end. I suggest for you to be more careful and refrain from using this, especially in front of others...”
Jiang Xichen sighs inwardly. “Thank you for your advice. I will bear it in mind.”
It is barely strange for anyone to have that response.
Demonic cultivation is, essentially, considered unlawful—this is one of the first few things Jiang Xichen learned upon his return. In fact, any practice of demonic cultivation is seen as inherently equivalent to the Yiling Patriarch, so much so that Jiang Xichen is surprised that the man is even trying to warn and persuade him, instead of yelling or trying to get away from him.
Perhaps it is because he knows that there is nowhere else he could escape to in his current injured state, or perhaps it is because he truly is a tender-hearted person, both gentle and kind.
Jiang Xichen can't help but sympathize with the man who has the dark cloth wrapped around his eyes—and it is with those mixed feelings that he eventually reaches out, his fingertips millimetres away from brushing gently against the top of the cloth.
"If it isn't too impudent of me, may I know what happened to your eyes?"
The blind man jerks at the question, raising a hand to his own face. Jiang Xichen pulls away at once, an apology at the tip of his tongue, but the man grasps his withdrawing left wrist in a vice grip, preventing him from backing away any further.
"I thought you'd never ask."
Jiang Xichen blinks. The quality of the other man’s voice has changed. Its tone is now deeper, darker, more dangerous.
"What?"
"Because… Shouldn't you know what happened best, Hengyi? Your Xingchen-ge dug his own eyes out and gave them to dearest shixiong, Song Zichen!"
Jiang Xichen's eyes widen fractionally as he flinches at the blind cultivator's sudden unexpected outburst. In the heat of the moment, he forcefully attempts to fling Xiao Xingchen’s arm aside while scrambling backwards. He almost succeeds in getting away unscathed, however, Xiao Xingchen’s nails catch on the layer of bandages around his left forearm in the last moment, and Jiang Xichen’s movement only serves to loosen it.
The bandages unravel, hanging limply like a white ribbon in the space between the two men as it reveals the gruesome appearance of the two deteriorated ritual wounds. The cuts are grotesque, jagged at the reddened edges as they spiral up the length of his entire forearm. Dark red splotches cover the entire area, and fresh droplets of oozing blood slowly brim over the top of the dull crusting patches, trickling down along his the length of his arm to the tips of his fingers.
Drip.
The first drop of blood lands on the ground. A second drop follows after several minutes.
Thump.
Jiang Xichen’s heartbeat is loud in his eardrums, the volume of each individual beat putting even the raucous chaos outside to shame.
Finally, he sucks in a deep breath and asks in a trembling voice. “Are you Xiao Xingchen?”
Xiao Xingchen smiles, one corner of his lips tugged skywards in a menacing lopsided smirk. There is none of his gentle demeanour from earlier or the selflessness Jiang Xichen picked up from stories about the man. The person before him is just the hollow husk of a jaded young man who has lost the light in his life.
“And what about you? Are you really Song Hengyi?"
Notes:
1. Guniang (姑娘): girl, young woman, maiden. Back
***
The end notes is based off on the story-telling scene in the coffin house from the original novel but I changed it a bit to add in Song Hengyi. Please enjoy :3c
“Daozhang, I wanna hear a story!” A-Qing demands one stormy winter night, pestering Xiao Xingchen who is mending a broken basket. “You must remember the night-hunts you’ve been on, right? I'd like to hear those! Tell me, what sort of monsters have you fought?”
Xue Yang who had been unfocused on the story and listening with his eyes shut, now opens them and glances directly at Xiao Xingchen. His expression is nearly feral, with a dangerous glint to his eyes. The corners of his lips are pulled back, indicating that he is up to no good, yet his voice is filled with simple curiosity. “That’s right, I am interested too. Did you used to night-hunt alone as well?”
Xiao Xingchen falls silent and only replies after a slight pause. “No.”
“Then who else was with you?” A-Qing chimes in innocently.
This time, Xiao Xingchen’s pause is longer. “A very good friend of mine, and for some time, his shidi too.”
“For some time?” A-Qing quotes, tilting her head to the side curiously. “What happened to him? Why did he leave halfway?”
“Little Blind, don’t ask stupid questions. There is only one thing that would happen on night-hunts—he died.”
“No,” Xiao Xingchen interjects, his voice the loudest anyone has ever heard. Realising that he lost his composure, he immediately clears his throat gently behind a sleeve and swiftly regains his composure. “He didn’t die on a night-hunt.”
An eerie light flashes inside Xue Yang’s eyes and his smile grows larger. “So he still died, huh?”
As if sensing how uncomfortable Xiao Xingchen is, A-Qing nestles closer to him. “Let’s not talk about the shidi then. What about your friend? Where is he right now?”
Xiao XingChen visibly flinches at the question.
Although A-Qing doesn’t know what is going on, she somehow got the feeling that she was led to ask this question by Xue Yang. Holding her breath, she then glares over at him, clenching her teeth in anger.
“Where he is right now… Frankly, I don’t know either. But, I hope that…” Xiao Xingchen finally breaks the silence after a long while of spacing out. He sets a comforting hand atop A-Qing’s head, ruffling her hair, akin to a silent gesture to reassure her that he is fine. “Alright, both of you, that’s it for tonight. I really don’t know how to tell stories. It’s quite embarrassing.”
Chapter 17: Revelation III
Chapter Text
<PRESENT>
“Are you really Song Hengyi?”
Xiao Xingchen does not wait for Jiang Xichen to answer. Instead, he leaps up onto his feet, pulling out a red elixir from a pouch tucked into his robes and pops the medicinal pill into his mouth. The purplish-red hue from the poison instantly retracts from his face, and disappears down his neckline.
"Even if you keep silent, I know that you aren't him," Xiao Xingchen sneers, picking up his sword. It glints in the flickering candlelight, appearing more eerily dangerous than beautiful.
Jiang Xichen remains unmoving in his spot, unwilling to back down even as the other man starts circling around with light and quick steps, akin to a predator waiting to pounce on his prey.
"I've heard great things about you, the Yiling Patriarch, but your acting skills are far too poor. If you want to pretend to be someone, you'd have to ensure that you know everything there is to know about him first." Xiao Xingchen leans in, whispering right against the shell of Jiang Xichen’s ear. "Let me tell you where you failed at. For three long years, every time I saw Song Hengyi, he would demand to know where his beloved shixiong is, so there is absolutely no way that guy will remain calm after seeing Shuanghua because–"
"Because both Song Zichen and Xiao Xingchen disappeared together and Song Hengyi thinks they might still be together," Jiang Xichen interjects in an even tone. "Isn't that right, Xue Yang?"
Xiao Xingchen, no rather, Xue Yang recoils backwards, posture stiffening for a split second before he regains his composure. Then, he draws the corners of his lips back, pulling them into a feral grin.
"How did you find out?"
"You might be a good actor, but you speak too much. And sometimes, when someone says too much, they end up divulging too much too."
Jiang Xichen gestures at the fabric around Xue Yang's eyes. "For instance, when you mentioned about me not recognising the sword, that instantly tells me two things. Firstly, that you might not actually be blind, but instead, pretending to be one in order to impersonate Xiao Xingchen. And secondly, if you were who you claimed to be, you'd have asked why I hadn't recognized you, instead of the sword."
The grin on Xue Yang's face freezes in place.
Jiang Xichen continues speaking.
"The reason why you had to use the sword is likely because you can't be sure if Song Hengyi recognised you. If you are just a nobody masquerading as Xiao Xingchen, the lack of attention would give you a clear answer and there is no need to intentionally show me the sword."
"And? How does that giveaway that I am Xue Yang?"
"Don't they all say that the opposite of love is hatred? If a close friend is someone you are sure Song Hengyi would recognise, then you must be the opposite. You think Song Hengyi bears a huge grudge on you. You were sure that he would recognise either you or your disguise on sight, but neither happened, so you had to check by using Xiao Xingchen's sword."
Xue Yang hooks his fingers under his blindfold and yanks it off in one smooth motion, revealing a pair of bright, shining, unscathed eyes. "I'm seriously impressed. Are you telling me that's all it took for you to discover my identity?"
"Not only that. There is also the fact that you know I am the Yiling Patriarch."
Jiang Xichen smiles, the curve to his lips as sharp and cold as Xue Yang's predatory grin. No other words are exchanged between them on this same matter because they aren't needed.
It is obvious to them both at this point. The fact that Xue Yang knows the soul in Song Hengyi's body is Jiang Xichen means he knows of the existence of the Sacrificial Ritual, and in turn, the high price needed to pay to use it. Yet, Xue Yang did not even seem surprised that Song Hengyi was broken to the point of resorting to it, which only leaves one singular possibility.
He was involved in whatever was done to Song Hengyi. The multitude of knife scars perhaps, or worse. Song Hengyi must have borne a grudge—and there were only two names given to him during the ritual, Xue Yang and Jin Guangyao.
Since he can't possibly be the latter, he must be the former.
Jiang Xichen lets out a deep sigh. "Let's not beat around the bush anymore. I want answers. You are working with another person, a mist-faced man who we met at the Chang Residence in Yueyang. Is that Jin Guangyao?”
Xue Yang sniggers, shrugging. “I have absolutely no idea what you are saying. I work alone.”
“That's impossible. The mist-faced man is very clearly involved in the gathering of the body parts, whereas you are responsible for planting them."
"Why do you think so?"
"Because the places we've been to so far are all connected to you, Xue Yang. The torso at Chang Residence aside, the left arm at Baixue Temple, and the legs at..." Jiang Xichen trails off, realising the discrepancy. Even if the other locations are inherently connected to Xue Yang, this particular one isn't.
"The legs at Yunping have nothing to do with me," Xue Yang supplies, a smug grin on his face. "How would you explain that?"
Jiang Xichen blinks.
Yunping? Not the Nie Saber Hall?
Even still, he swallows the bubbling ball of surprise down, and plasters a false, confident smile on. He would have a lot of time after settling this to mull over the information later.
"Well, you named the location before I did. If you didn't know where it is, there is no way you could have done that."
Xue Yang erupts into a raucous round of discoordinated applause right there and then. However, there is nothing cheery or congratulatory about his tone and gesture. Instead, it appears forced and oddly sardonic. "As expected of the Founder of Demonic Cultivation. You're so sly."
"I prefer being called intelligent," Jiang Xichen replies curtly, folding his arms across his chest. The small amount of resentment energy left in Jiang Xichen trickles out, lengthening itself into a thin thread that slithers over to Xue Yang and binds his arms, holding them apart so he wouldn't be able to draw Shuanghua.
He had taken the length of their conversation to prepare for this one moment after all.
"You've lost. Now tell me where the right arm and head are."
Xue Yang continues smirking, appearing as if he is completely undaunted by his current predicament. "Bold of you to assume that I don't have anything else up my sleeve."
Jiang Xichen raises a brow. "The walking corpses outside are still preoccupied with the paper mannequins. Your accomplice is facing off one of the strongest cultivators right now. What else could there be?"
"Shh, you need to stay silent and listen very carefully."
Once Xue Yang finishes his sentence, Jiang Xichen immediately picks up a series of almost imperceptible noises coming from above him.
The noises are that of footsteps, akin to someone walking rapidly above the roof. However, since the person’s footsteps are abnormally light, the sound is close to unnoticeable. If not for Xue Yang's tip-off and his own keen senses, Jiang Xichen might not have picked them up in time to dodge when a large hole is smashed right through the ceiling.
Dust, blades of grass, and chips of broken roof tiles rain down from above.
Jiang Xichen pushes himself off on one foot and leaps backwards immediately. His back grazes against the brick wall behind himself, and Jiang Xichen grits his teeth together in a mixture of frustration and displeasure. He is unable to back off anymore within this small house, and the streets outside are likely filled with corpse poisoning powder right now.
Just his luck, huh?
A black figure leaps down from the opening in the roof.
The moonlight slinks in through the hole, lighting the man's long, flowing black robes up like a spotlight. With a tall stance and a straight back, he has the demeanour of a well-educated Young Master and the air of a firm, unyielding pine tree.
His face is tilted up slightly, making him appear haughty and aloof under the glow of the moon. He stays still for a long moment, allowing Jiang Xichen to slowly take in the sight of the horsetail whisk strapped to his back before he finally turns, revealing the long and immaculate sword in his hand, and a pair of blank white eyes.
Jiang Xichen sighs, straightening his posture. He really doesn’t want to deal with another opponent now, not when half of his concentration has to be spent on controlling the mannequins, both to win against the horde of walking corpses and also to prevent the energy from rebounding into him—but as usual, Lady Luck is never ever on his side.
"That's unexpected. I didn't know you could control fierce corpses too."
Xue Yang chuckles, waving the remark away. "You don't have to compliment me. I'm not the kind to fall for such superficial things. I won't make it easier for you just because you called me a genius."
Jiang Xichen’s brow twitches in annoyance. "No one complimented you."
"Oh really? But it sounded exactly like one to me." Xue Yang pulls out a dark token from waistband with his bound hands and raises it to eye-level. "The genius who can replicate the Yiling Patriarch's manipulation of resentment energy, that is!"
Almost immediately after, the fierce corpse launches an attack with the sword in his hand.
With unrivalled speed and swordsmanship, he lunges straight at Jiang Xichen, hand extended out and blade poised to kill. With nowhere left to hide, the latter has no other choice but to retract the malleable resentment energy he has coiled around Xue Yang's wrists, fashioning it into a shield.
However, the pure power and force behind the blows are far stronger than what Jiang Xichen had expected. The blade connects with the shield, slicing through the hardened energy like a hot knife through butter, dispersing it. The scattering of reflected light against the shadowed body of the blade is the only warning Jiang Xichen gets, and he barely manages to dive to the side in the nick of time.
The corpse stops just shy of stabbing his weapon into the wall, and slashes it to the side in a wide ferocious swing. The sharp edge slices cleanly through still air, releasing a high-pitched inharmonic sound that rings incessantly in Jiang Xichen’s ear as the latter thrusts the remnants of resentment energy directly under his feet and uses it to propel himself up through the air to dodge the attack.
He makes a clean landing, equidistant between Xue Yang and the fierce corpse. Jiang Xichen holds up the unequal ends of his ponytail and gives an exaggerated sigh.
"Two against one is hardly fair, isn't it?"
Xue Yang shrugs, swinging the dangling token casually around his forefinger. "I never said that it would be a fair fight. Besides, it's not like I want to kill you, I just want to render you immobile so I can take you back and let you slowly work for me."
Jiang Xichen raises a brow. "Work for you?"
"That's right. Senior Jiang, you really have to do me a favour. I need your help to restore a soul." Xue Yang takes out a Spirit-Trapping Pouch and jiggles it in front of Jiang Xichen’s eyes, before placing it down on the table between them. “Please.”
Narrowing his eyes, Jiang Xichen hesitates for a long moment before finally relenting. He is at a clear disadvantage here, so there is no way he would choose to fight if he could settle this amicably. Making up his mind, Jiang Xichen then holds his hand out over the pouch and feels it for a while, as if he is feeling someone’s pulse.
“Whose soul is this? Unfortunately, it is already in shambles and there isn’t enough of it left in here. When this person was alive, they probably suffered a lot of torture and committed suicide. Not only does the person’s soul not want to come back to this time, it seems that they do not wish to return to the cycle of reincarnation either.”
Xue Yang’s eyes grow cold, yet the tone he speaks in sounds oddly affectionate and sweet. “I don’t understand and I don’t care. Even if you don’t want to, you’ll still have to do me the favour. Don’t forget that your life is in my hands right now, and with a simple command, I can make that puppet behind you skewer you to bits.”
“Is that the proper tone to use when asking a senior for help?” Jiang Xichen scoffs, withdrawing his hand. “Besides, you are the one controlling all the corpses in this city, aren’t you? If you are able to do this much on your own, why would you need my help to restore a soul?”
“Tsk, if you compliment me this much, I’ll get embarrassed,” Xue Yang sniggers as he snags the pouch off the table, but there isn’t even a single trace of discomfort in his tone. “But to answer your question, the two are not the same. You are the founder. If you’d never made the original Stygian Tiger Seal and created Demonic Cultivation, I wouldn’t be able to think up such an interesting cultivation method. There is no doubt that you are better than me. So if there is something I can’t do, you must be able to do it.”
“You’re being too humble.”
“It’s not being humble. It’s the truth. I never like to exaggerate when I’m talking. If I say I’m going to kill someone’s entire clan, I’ll definitely make sure I slaughter their entire clan. Not even a dog will be left behind.”
Jiang Xichen lifts a hand to his chin thoughtfully. “Like, the Yueyang Chang clan?”
Xue Yang hums under his breath, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with Jiang Xichen’s question.
“Well, I hate to burst your bubble but you have been misunderstanding something the whole time. Firstly, there was never a Stygian Tiger Seal to begin with,” Jiang Xichen chuckles. “Xue Yang, have you heard of the saying ‘the nail that sticks out gets hammered down’? After the Sunshot Campaign, all the Sects needed another common enemy to unite them together again, and that happened to be someone that was practicing an unorthodox cultivation method—me.”
“And that’s why you created the rumour of a Stygian Tiger Seal.”
“That’s exactly it,” Jiang Xichen chuckles, offering the other man a small round of applause for his efforts. “If the power-hungry individuals think that there is something that I store my power in, they would be less likely to target my life. Instead, they would aim to acquire that object amicably from me instead.”
“Ridiculous. Without a seal, there is no way you’d be able to control all that resentment energy.”
“You really think so?” Jiang Xichen questions, turning to point directly at the controlled fierce corpse that has been standing silently in a corner of the room all this time. “But you created one, haven’t you?”
Xue Yang glances between the two of them. There is no change in his expression, but Jiang Xichen notices the bewilderment in his eyes.
Jiang Xichen sighs. “Those without a golden core are susceptible to resentment energy, and it is like a poison that slowly eats away at you. Using your seal, you manipulated and filled the common people in this city with the energy, turning them into corpses. By controlling the dark energy in them, you in turn, control them. However, this particular one here is different. He is a cultivator, and judging by his attire and your disguise earlier, he is Xiao Xingchen’s partner, Song Zichen."
He doesn’t wait for Xue Yang's affirmation before continuing his explanation. “A golden core can purify resentment energy. So, there are only two ways you can control a cultivator with your seal. One, imbue him with enough resentment energy to overload and break his core, or two, kill him then imbue the energy.”
“Or both,” Xue Yang answers, eyes gleaming almost maniacally. His pupils are dilated, seemingly excited as he shifts his weight from foot to foot like a gleeful child. “Your hypotheses are interesting, but that doesn’t answer my question, Senior Jiang. Even with a seal, I can't control the resentment energy that's all around us in the air. How are you able to do that if you didn't have a seal?”
“Easy. It’s because that, too, is a misunderstanding. I never controlled the resentment energy in the air. Every single bit the Yiling Patriarch used was from his own body."
Jiang Xichen gives a long, deep exhale.
Suddenly, he feels extremely tired, just as if all the lethargy since his reincarnation caught up with him all at once. Or perhaps it was from far before that—the compiled tiredness ever since he became the Yiling Patriarch. It latches onto him like chains, locking him in place, forcing him to be here, when all he wants is to curl up and simply cease existing.
He doesn't want to remember those painful memories again, doesn't want to relive those dark times, but no matter where he goes or how far he goes, Jiang Xichen knows that his past will never stop chasing after him.
"Xue Yang, have you considered what fills the void after a golden core is lost?”
A heavy silence hangs in between the two men, with neither party making a single move. There is no need for either of them to clarify anything because the subtle meaning behind Jiang Xichen's words are as clear as day.
Xue Yang is someone who is dabbling in the forbidden cultivation method. Even if he had never experimented with this particular idea, a similar thought must have crossed his mind at least once prior, and he breaks the silence first.
"I see, I see, so Senior Jiang formed a new core out of resentment energy! Then there is no wonder why you had to fabricate rumours about your false seal. If anyone else found out about it, they would have colluded and killed you before you even had the time to blink!" Xue Yang’s lips are pulled back into a wide predatory grin while his eyes glint with an eerie shade of dark red, twinkling with a mixture of curiosity and something that borderline screams dangerous. "But I wonder, were you even still human then? Or were you a monster, with no difference from that corpse over there?"
"That's right."
Xue Yang’s mockery stutters to a sudden stop at Jiang Xichen’s mild acceptance.
He was probably expecting something more—something like an outburst, or a denial—something that would make Xue Yang feel like he won the upper-hand in their impromptu emotional battle, but all Jiang Xichen does is slip his eyes shut and exhale breathily, before turning to leave.
"Now that you know the truth, you should also understand that I lack the abilities to help you."
Song Zichen surges forward before Jiang Xichen has even taken a single step. His sword grazes the surface of the ground and sweeps skyward in a wide arc, narrowly missing the tip of Jiang Xichen’s nose by mere inches. The latter springs backwards on reflex, bringing himself closer to Xue Yang who unsheathes Shuanghua and joins in the fray.
“Don’t be so eager to refuse me, Senior Jiang. Even if you really didn’t have the seal, you still had the brains to figure out Demonic Cultivation. Furthermore, if you do not know what to do about the soul, the both of us can discuss the matter together. With our level of intelligence, I’m sure we would be able to figure something out.”
"You are not being very persuasive if you're brandishing a sword at me while you speak."
"Shouldn't I seem more persuasive instead?" Xue Yang corrects, thrusting his weapon forward. It glints like a deadly arrow of light, and Jiang Xichen twists his hips to the side just in time to dodge the stab.
He hears the rustling from Song Zichen's movements behind him before he actually feels the whistling of wind against his skin. Without missing a beat, Jiang Xichen swings his hand out to the side, making contact with Song Zichen's forearm.
The latter doesn't budge much, but the subtle change in trajectory is enough and the blade whizzes by the curve of his shoulder, missing it by mere centimetres. Jiang Xichen allows the momentum to carry Song Zichen further forward before he grabs the latter firmly by the elbow and collar, and flips him onto his back.
Song Zichen lands with a loud thud against the wooden flooring, his sword falling out of his hand. However, there is no change in his expression or demeanour and Jiang Xichen hurriedly kicks him over and stomps down on him with all the strength he can muster. He hears a resounding crack under his foot and seizes the chance to grab the horsetail whisk strapped to Song Zichen’s back.
Xue Yang suddenly pulls another weapon out from a modified qiankun pouch in his right sleeve and arms himself with both swords. The body of Shuanghua is white, radiating a pure silver radiance that contrasts starkly against the new blade which is completely shrouded in a grim and dark glare.
Jiang Xichen raises an inquisitive brow. “Are you sure you aren’t intending to kill me?”
“Of course. Didn’t I say it before? I am merely trying to render you immobile. I just figured that it would be easier to restrain you if you lost your limbs.”
“How would I be useful to you in that state?”
“Oh, you’d be even more useful, trust me. If you are completely unable to move and resist, you wouldn’t be able to give me any trouble, unlike that imbecile there.” Xue Yang clicks his tongue in annoyance and Song Zichen begins twitching in the next moment. The corpse rises slowly to his feet, pushing himself up from his legs, locking his joint up one at a time, until he knocks Jiang Xichen off balance.
Using that sliver of opportunity that his puppet created, Xue Yang tightens his grip on both swords and releases a far-reaching savage slice with the dark sword that Jiang Xichen barely manages to deflect in the nick of time using the ebony handle of the whisk. Without missing a beat, Xue Yang then displays a great deal of flexibility by flipping his body in mid-air and closing in again with Shuanghua this time.
The silver glare passes by underneath, slicing a clean path up through the air from a completely unexpected spot. Stunned, Jiang Xichen immediately jerks his hand back before thrusting the handle of the horsetail whisk forward, striking a precise point on Xue Yang’s left shoulder with utmost accuracy.
With his acupoint sealed through that single blow, Xue Yang loses all strength in his left arm, and Shuanghua slips out from his grasp.
Jiang Xichen snatches the falling glowing blade.
"Give it back!” Xue Yang roars, his voice trembling at the edges. His pupils are blown wide, seemingly distraught as he slashes out almost savagely with his own weapon. Each strike is heavy and deadly, almost as if Xue Yang has completely forgotten his initial plan to keep Jiang Xichen alive. Instead, his entire focus seems to have suddenly turned solely towards reclaiming Shuanghua, and he would go to no end to accomplish that.
Jiang Xichen parries each strike to the best of his ability. “What do you mean ‘give back’? This sword was never yours to begin with.”
“He is mine,” Xue Yang snarls. “His sword, his soul, everything is mine!”
“Yours? You are delusional. You are probably the reason why Xiao Xingchen chose to kill himself, right? He wants his soul to be free, and yet you still trap him here, thinking up ways to mend it? Do you have no shame?”
Xue Yang laughs throatily, pained and hoarse. “Shame? What shame would a delinquent like myself have? All I want is to make him into a fierce corpse, an evil spirit, so I can control him! Did you know that his greatest wish is to be a virtuous person? I want to make him into a tool for murder! I want to make it so that he never stops killing, so he will never be at peace! That’s my retribution to him!”
“Because he left you behind?”
Xue Yang freezes in place at Jiang Xichen’s statement.
A whole range of emotions flicker across his face—from surprise, to disappointment, to anger, and a fourth emotion that Jiang Xichen doesn’t have the time to identify before Xue Yang snaps lithely forward. Xue Yang’s lips are split into a wretched grin, portraying the perfect image of a person swaddled in brutality and violence, as he brings his sword up and over his head before swinging it down.
Song Zichen charges over from behind at the same time, forming a pincer attack that would skewer the trapped man in between them.
Undaunted, Jiang Xichen gives in to his sharp reflexes and whips around on his heel, spinning Shuanghua on the flat of his palm before striking it up and out to guard against Xue Yang. Black meets white in a scatter of light sparks, their edges grinding together and forming a jarring screech.
Meanwhile, Jiang Xichen jerks his other hand back and with a nimble flick of his wrist, coils the horse hair strands around Song Zichen’s wrist and subtly redirects his sword’s trajectory with that simple gesture. The candlelight flickers then, glinting off the characters “Fuxue” engraved onto Song Zichen’s sword and douses them in a hue of red before they disappear along with the weapon, piercing deep into Xue Yang’s side.
Blood spills from Xue Yang’s lips in the form of a wet cough, overflowing and trickling past the corners of his lips and down his chin.
“Senior Jiang, did you get that imbecile to stab me on purpose? Is this your idea of revenge?” Xue Yang sneers, releasing one of his hands from the hilt of his sword to tighten it around Jiang Xichen’s wrist, holding him in place. Xue Yang appears to have an incredibly high level of pain tolerance and doesn’t seem to have even lost a single ounce of strength despite having just been stabbed.
Jiang Xichen grits his teeth, struggling to hold both of them at bay, but to no avail. He can use petty tricks to fend and dodge most attacks easily enough but there is no way he would potentially win a match in strength with his body's current condition and level of usable spiritual energy.
If only Song Hengyi's core wasn't damaged!
“You can think whatever you want but aren’t you the one that’s pitting Song Zichen against his own shidi?”
Xue Yang erupts into peals of laughter. “Shidi?! Can you even say that when you took over his body? Aren’t you the real murderer?”
Jiang Xichen freezes momentarily, eyes glossing over. From the corner of his eye, he catches sight of Song Zichen pausing as well, dipping his head to stare at the ends of the horsetail whisk that’s still wrapped around his wrist. However, before Jiang Xichen can discern the reason for his pause, Xue Yang clicks his tongue again.
Song Zichen yanks his hand back unexpectedly, tugging the handle of the horsetail whisk straight out of Jiang Xichen’s hand. The motion throws him completely off-balance and the latter starts tilting forward, towards Song Zichen, only to have the latter grab him by the throat.
“Hngh!” Jiang Xichen chokes, letting out a sharp exhale as Song Zichen raises him off the ground with a single arm. He kicks his legs out futilely, clawing at Song Zichen’s arm while his air supply dwindles to the point that his lungs feel like they are surrounded and constricted by metal bands.
The lack of air burns, razing a bright fiery path from his lungs up to his brain and ends with tingles on his lips. Jiang Xichen slips his eyes close, resigned and prepared for death—but nothing could have possibly prepared him for the incoming wave of sheer pain.
Song Zichen charges right through the wall with him, and Jiang Xichen feels the solid partition give behind his back immediately. The impact knocks whatever breath is left in him out, and he momentarily feels the cold from the fog on the streets caress his back before it collides against the wall of the house right opposite the street.
Pain explodes from the inside out.
There is nothing quite like it. There is nothing quite like the feeling of having nearly half of his ribs splintering at the same time. He probably blacks out for a split second then, enough for him to completely lose control of all the paper mannequins, and the resentment energy possessing them snaps straight back into Jiang Xichen like a rubberband.
Jiang Xichen howls, shrieking from pure agony, but all that would leave his constricted vocal cords is a hoarse, choked scream.
“Don’t kill him,” Xue Yang tuts as he steps out from the old woman’s house with Shuanghua, instructing Song Zichen to drop the man and step away. “I still need him to help me mend the soul.”
Jiang Xichen collapses in a heap on the ground, coughing as he sucks in deep breaths. He can taste the sweet, rotten flavour of the corpse poisoning powder on the flat of his tongue and he knows he should not be breathing any of this in, but he can’t help himself. The recent deprivation of air has taken a toll on his body and he gulps down the foul air greedily, unwillingly, until his vision starts spinning, going red at the corners as tears prick his eyes.
Xue Yang stoops beside him, holding a red elixir between his forefinger and thumb.
“Senior Jiang, if this continues, you’d definitely die. But if you are willing to help me mend the soul, I’ll give you this antidote.”
Jiang Xichen chuckles, the sound pained and forced, with a slight hint of desperation to it, as he speaks between weak coughs. “I'd like to return to you the same question you gave me earlier… Xue Yang, using Song Zichen against me… Is this your idea of revenge...?”
Xue Yang grins. “Do I seem like such a petty person?”
Jiang Xichen pushes himself up onto his elbows. “Big words coming from someone who said he wouldn’t even spare a dog…”
Xue Yang’s foot meets the side of Jiang Xichen’s face. He grinds his heel into the latter’s cheek, forcing him to fall flat back down onto the ground limply. “Don't be so full of yourself. Or do I need to remind you that Song Hengyi is also a survivor of the Baixue Temple massacre—"
But before he finishes his sentence, a white-robed figure descends from the sky.
"Get your filthy foot off him," the man commands in a haughty tone and swings his sword down. The icy glare of Sandu sweeps in a wide arc around Jiang Xichen, the resulting impact blasting both the remnants of the corpse poisoning powder and Xue Yang away.
The force also slices Song Zichen’s legs into two at the knees and the fierce corpse falls forward onto the ground, unmoving.
Lan Wanyin lands before Jiang Xichen on a single foot, his white robes billowing elegantly with the motion before it settles softly down in the breeze. Jiang Xichen can’t see the expression on Lan Wanyin’s face from where he is, but he can sense the ambience of frost and ice through the other man’s stiff posture.
“Is this what they call ‘to come in time is better than to come early’?” Jiang Xichen chuckles between wet stuttering coughs, attempting to joke to lighten the mood. However, a dark glower from Lan Wanyin shuts him up instantly.
“Is this what you would call ‘in time’?” Lan Wanyin returns the question evenly, and Jiang Xichen averts his eyes away guiltily, sliding his gaze down towards the ground. He trails it down the flowy stretch of Lan Wanyin’s outer robe, and happens to catch sight of the other man’s hands.
They tremble as if he is struggling to hold back his anger.
Jiang Xichen gulps, a lump forming in his throat.
“How about ‘better late than never’ then?” Xue Yang offers, casting out his sword mid-sentence, hoping to catch his foes by surprise. “If you came any later, you wouldn’t have even been able to see him for one last time!”
Lan Wanyin whirls his head back to glare at Xue Yang, sending out Sandu in a moment of anger. The two swords collide in between them, the resulting sound high-pitched and blaring, before flying back to their respective owners.
Xue Yang does not give Lan Wanyin any sliver of reprieve. Instead, he seamlessly adjusts to a double-sworded style of attack at once, wielding Shuanghua in his left hand and his own sword in his right. He is able to use them together well, both of his hands keeping perfectly in time with each other.
On the other hand, Lan Wanyin is at a complete disadvantage.
As this is his very first time facing an opponent with such an unorthodox fighting technique, he chooses to stall slightly, testing waters, and that in turn allows Xue Yang to quickly gain the upper-hand.
“Is that Jiangzai?” Lan Wanyin asks when they spring apart yet again at an impasse, gesturing at the foreboding sword that brings with it the scent of bloodshed.
Xue Yang smirks at Lan Wanyin’s question and lifts the dark sword in his right hand gleefully. “Hm? You know of it? What an honour.”
“Of course. Even if I hadn’t, I would upon seeing it because its name matches you perfectly,” Lan Wanyin replies, his polite words dripping with pure scorn. An indescribable emotion flits past Xue Yang’s countenance, gone as fast as it appeared.
“My, my, thank you for the amazing compliment,” Xue Yang shoots back, but there is absolutely nothing about his gesture or tone that suggests he is even moderately grateful. “But if you keep it up, I will get shy.”
Lan Wanyin narrows his eyes. “No one complimented you.”
Sandu’s sword glare brightens tenfold. Xue Yang recoils at once, attempting to put some distance between them, but Lan Wanyin is much faster.
The older man tosses Sandu to his left hand and sweeps forward in a split second, determined to no longer hold back any punches. Lan Wanyin uses his flexibility to his advantage, folding at his knees and ducking his body down nimbly before thrusting his entire weight forward. Being of a smaller stature, Xue Yang has long since gotten used to fighting people taller than himself and he naturally goes for a high guard out of habit.
Sandu slips in from an unexpected spot, tearing diagonally across Xue Yang’s torso, slicing a crimson line from his hip up to his underarm before ripping through the white bone of Xue Yang’s left humerus in the same motion, severing it.
Blood spurts out from the amputated limb at once, but instead of focusing on that, Jiang Xichen finds his attention inherently drawn to how the Spirit-Trapping Pouch hidden in Xue Yang's sleeve sails through the air.
There is a tear in its side, quite possibly nicked by Sandu, and the remaining broken fragments of Xiao Xingchen's soul spills from it.
A soul should be invisible, intangible, yet Xiao Xingchen’s is white like snow, the fragments gently cascading out like glittering sand, sparkling as it refracts the silvery moonlight. It’s perfect for the unwavering, virtuous man that was akin to a beacon of hope to the masses. It’s perfect for the man that was likened to the bright moon and gentle breeze, bringing with him a sense of calm wherever he goes.
"I have come to understand Shixiong and Xingchen-ge's resolve over the course of the past few night-hunts. This Hengyi will go back and persuade Shifu to allow Shixiong to leave and set up his own Sect. I will train to become the next Head in Shixiong's stead, so let's night-hunt again together someday."
This isn't Jiang Xichen's own memory, but it brings tears to his eyes all the same. There is a deep ache in his chest when he sees the fallen form of Song Zichen and the empty Spirit-Trapping Pouch lying limply on the ground, but these emotions are not Jiang Xichen’s own.
They are not fully Song Hengyi's either, because his soul is long since gone. But there are things that even if both the soul and mind have forgotten, the body will still remember.
“How dare you!” Xue Yang roars, red veins creeping up the corners of his eyes. “How dare you take him away from me!”
Jiang Xichen lets out a deep breath, struggling to get to his feet despite the way rigor mortis from the circulating poison has settled into his body. His eyes are red-rimmed, two lines of fresh tear tracks stark on his cheeks. His voice is hoarse and raspy, punctured by dry and pained wheezing.
“Take him away? But Xue Yang, aren’t you the one that took Xiao Xingchen away from his friends?”
Xue Yang’s eyes widen at Jiang Xichen’s accusation, almost bulging out from his skull. A vein at his temple throbs, and his face turns a dark shade of red from fury. “I dare you to repeat that again.”
“I said, aren’t you the one that took Xiao Xingchen away from his friends?”
A swirl of black bursts out from around Xue Yang. The man has completely lost all control over his emotions, and the seal which he fishes out from his waistband glows ominously in the epicenter of the energy mass. A massive number of footsteps come from every direction around them, all the remaining walking corpses in Yi City clambering forward, drawn by the command of the seal to feed their resentment energy back to it.
Even Song Zichen struggles to rise despite his severed feet, using Fuxue as a cane to stand on the stubs of flesh before losing his balance and falling over. Still, he tries again, then again, because fierce corpses do not know pain.
Jiang Xichen slips his eyes shut.
“I understand what you felt, you were the one closest to Xiao Xingchen, yet you were unable to ease any of his pain. That must have felt incredibly awful. But it’s also because of that, that you should have known you are not the one he yearns for. He was always hoping to reconcile with his friends, yet you selfishly took that chance away from him.”
Xue Yang laughs bitterly. “Understand? What do you understand? What will a murderer like you ever possibly understand?! You kill thousands without blinking an eye, yet you dare to preach to me?! I did all of that for revenge. Do you know what that imbecile there did? He hurt him! He took his eyes away from him, so I took his tongue and life away in return!”
The whirlwind of energy grows increasingly chaotic the deeper Xue Yang descends into depravity. He attempts to draw the amassed resentment energy into himself, trying to fit what Jiang Xichen mentioned about the Yiling Patriarch earlier, trying to use his body as a medium.
Jiang Xichen braces himself, braces himself for the voices, for the incessant screams of agony that always serve as an accompaniment for every ounce of resentment energy, then takes a step forward, towards Xue Yang.
“Song-gongzi!”
“I finally know why he wants me to kill you. You took everything away from him, to protect something that was never yours. You thought you were protecting him, but all you were doing is protecting yourself.” Jiang Xichen smiles. “We are very different people, Xue Yang. I can give up the world to protect the people I love. I can even give myself up. If they yearn for freedom, I’ll set them free, I’ll stay far away. But you are different. You’d lock them up instead, so they’ll never leave you because you don’t want them to.”
Xue Yang’s fingers twitch, but he stays silent.
“Let us leave this city unscathed, Xue Yang. You, of all people, should know that I don’t have much time left even if I survive today.”
“I won’t let you leave,” Xue Yang growls. “I told you this before, I never like to exaggerate when I’m talking. If I say I’m going to kill someone’s entire clan, I’ll definitely make sure I slaughter their entire clan. Not even a dog will be left behind. And I swear I’ll slaughter both of you here today!”
The resentment energy around Xue Yang roars to life, but Jiang Xichen doesn’t falter, not anymore. Instead, he simply extends a hand out before him, pressing his fingers into the dark veil, feeling the familiar coolness touch his palm—the nostalgic coolness Jiang Xichen wishes fervently for himself to forget.
“Well then, let’s go together, shall we?”
Without waiting for Xue Yang’s reply, Jiang Xichen curls his fingers, digging them deep into the resentment energy. He grips it as though it were solid and then yanks his arm back in one single swift motion.
The darkness follows his guide, and Jiang Xichen tears the layer of shadows entirely off of Xue Yang.
It falls onto him instead, condensing on his palm and winding up the length of his arm until it lays snugly over his shoulders.
It is akin to a cloak of midnight, but rather than making Jiang Xichen feel warm and protected, it chills him down to the bones and fills his head with never-ending screams of anguish. And just as he expected, the entire Yi City’s cursed energy is too much for him to bear. Even though Jiang Xichen tries his best to keep it from seeping into him, he can still feel the mortal stress it places on his golden core.
Blood spills from his lips, little crimson lotus flowers that bloom across pale skin like red spider lilies. But strangely, Jiang Xichen feels no shred of fear at all. In fact, it is hauntingly similar to his last moments during his previous lifetime.
His head has never been this clear before.
His heart has never been this set before.
“Zidian.”
Jiang Xichen’s voice cracks. That was something he had never thought he would ever have the chance to say again, not in this lifetime. It’s a nostalgic term, one that brings with it the memories of happiness, the smell of sorrow, and the taste of bloodshed, but a dear name all the same.
Jiang Xichen’s smile widens by a fraction when he meets Lan Wanyin’s gaze. The flickers of black lined with purple from the ring around Lan Wanyin’s forefinger is a stark contrast to the latter’s steel blue eyes. They are wide, blank with confusion, as if the cogs in his brain have not caught up with the present yet, and Jiang Xichen forces himself to commit the unique hue to memory.
“I’m sorry,” Jiang Xichen mouths, and Zidian streaks forward, changing its form into a whip and lashes white-hot right through Xue Yang.
It slices him open along the same wound Lan Wanyin inflicted on him earlier. Bits of flesh slough off Xue Yang’s body, flopping limply onto the floor. Blood dyes a portion of the thinning fog red, yet even that dissipates, leaving nothing but a sickening cloying smell of burnt flesh lingering in the air.
Xue Yang falls onto his knees, then his face, suffocating and gurgling from his own blood.
Zidian whizzes through the air towards Jiang Xichen in a huge arc, sparking and fizzling dark with resentment energy. The black coils around it are interspersed with its trademark shade of violet, and the coils fall away the closer the heirloom gets to Jiang Xichen, shifting back into its ring form.
Jiang Xichen holds out a hand, feeling the familiar weight of Zidian on his palm. Then, his knees buckle in the next moment, his entire body tilting precariously forward. Blood spills from his qiqiao,1 tinging his vision red and sapping strength from his limbs.
Lan Wanyin catches the collapsing man in the nick of time and gently lowers him to the ground, cradling the latter tightly to himself.
“Jiang Xichen… Xichen, please… Please open your eyes...”
Lan Wanyin still hasn’t wrapped his mind around the situation before him yet. All that he understands is that the man before him has successfully used Zidian—a weapon that not even Sect Leader Wei Wuxian is able to activate, because Jiang Xichen had never passed its ownership to anyone before his death.
The man before him: Song Hengyi, is Jiang Xichen.
No, it’s not possible. It can’t be possible. Even Lan Wanyin himself knows how ridiculous this sounds, but still, he can’t stop himself from wishing, from hoping. Part of him yearns for this to be true, yet the other part of him fears. He doesn’t want to lose him like this again, not yet, not so soon, not ever again.
“Xichen, please…”
Lan Wanyin trembles fiercely, tears pooling at the corners of his reddened eyes as he presses a shaking palm to Jiang Xichen’s chest and tries to pass him as much spiritual energy as he possibly can. It flickers, bringing a slight color back to the dying cultivator’s face, but it yields much less results than what Lan Wanyin hoped to see.
The toxins from the corpse poisoning powder has slowed down significantly, but the effects from the resentment energy are still stark. Jiang Xichen is steadily deteriorating, and Lan Wanyin is at a complete loss on what to do next.
Fuck. What else can he do?
What could he possibly do alone?
Lan Wanyin knows that he has always counted on others. He thought that he had gotten stronger over the past few years, strong enough to protect, but here he is again, being protected like usual.
Even after all this time, he still...
“Don’t cry,” Jiang Xichen chuckles dryly when he cracks an eye open. He raises a shaking hand up to wipe at Lan Wanyin’s tears. However, his fingertips are covered in blood and the action merely smears a trace of red across Lan Wanyin’s pale cheeks.
Jiang Xichen smiles, just a tired lift of the corners of his lips as he slips his eyes shut again. “I am not worth it.”
“No, don't say that. You’re worth it,” Lan Wanyin whispers hoarsely, pressing their foreheads together. At this moment, he is certain that even if someone were to stab him through the heart with a sword right now, he wouldn’t be able to feel any pain from it.
“You will always be worth it, Xichen-ge.”2
Notes:
1. Qiqiao (七窍): The seven apertures of the human head, consisting of the two eyes, two ears, nostrils and mouth. Back
***
There are several differences I made in the Yi City arc that I wouldn't be able to clarify in this same chapter because I don't want to break the flow of the ending. Furthermore, it would be several chapters till we get back to the present timeline, so I thought it'll be better to highlight these down here before everyone forgets about them.
1. There are no conscious fierce corpses in this fic, so that means there is no immortal Song Lan touring the world with Xiao Xingchen's and A-Qing's souls. In addition, the Ghost General would also not exist. This is because I personally do not see Jiang Xichen as someone who would control corpses even in war. Of course, this would lead to some changes in the later storyline and also how much more affected Jiang Xichen would be when he loses control, because he would be doing the deeds... himself.
2. Xiao Xingchen's soul is no more. The few remaining fragments of it spilled out from the Spirit-Trapping Pouch. In a way, this was his wish in this fic and since there is no fierce corpse Song Lan, there is little chance of Xiao Xingchen's soul ever repairing itself someday anyway 😭
3. Unlike the novel, A-Qing's soul is not destroyed. She will eventually move on and be reincarnated.
4. Xue Yang's body is still teleported away by the gravedigger. Since we all probably have read the novel, I guess it wouldn't be too much of a spoiler to say that Jin Guangyao has furture uses for Xue Yang's seal.
5. I also did not make JXC perform empathy on A-Qing because I didn't think that he would be someone who would willingly do so. But rest assured that the past of the Yi City people are still the same as in canon. The only difference is that the time AQ and XY spent with XXC (both alive and dead) is shorter, and that only serves to make XY still more crazed with XXC because he has less time to get over the latter's death.
6. LWY did manage to recover the body part that was kept here (right arm) and he will tell JXC that after we get back to the present timeline,
Additionally, my HC is that XY being kicked out of LLJ by JGY is a facade and this was so XY can have the freedom to go around planting all the body parts, and I have used this HC in this AU. Food for thought right now would be: were the legs really at Yunping like Xue Yang mentioned? If so, who moved them to the Nie Saber Hall? 😏
Chapter 18: Reprisal
Notes:
I feel like it became the new norm for me to say this before the start of a chapter but please note.
TW: Gore (Wen Chao and Wen Zhuliu's deaths)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
<FLASHBACK>
"Lan-xiong!"
Lan Wanyin inclines his head a fraction at the familiar voice. Wet blood mats the fabric layers of his robes to his body, making the lapels of his blue inner robes tug on the skin of his nape when he turns around. Wei Wuxian is approaching from behind, dressed in a clean set of dark clothes lined with red—a far cry from the soiled and grimy state of Lan Wanyin’s attire.
Still, the younger man bows, hands held out before himself in a formal salute. "Wei-gongzi, I am deeply grateful for the timely reinforcements from the Yunmeng Jiang Sect."
There is the foul smell of smoke mixed with the pungent odour of fresh blood lingering all around them in the aftermath of the battle. Unmoving bodies clad in robes with sun motifs are scattered limply all over the dirt ground—some of them strangled, several burned, a handful slit at the throat, and the others pierced in the head—not a single Wen is left alive.
Disciples from both the Gusu Lan and Yunmeng Jiang Sects mill around the site, tending to their injured comrades while spitting on the Wen corpses in disgust.
Lan Wanyin averts his gaze from the brutality and makes his way to the perimeter of the supervision office.
Wei Wuxian follows him.
"Don't be so stiff. You can just call me Wei-xiong. My brother’s friends are my friends too, and besides, I'm sure we’ll become family soon!" Wei Wuxian waggles his brows, adamant on not giving up any opportunity to tease Lan Wanyin, even if they are currently neck-deep in war.
Lan Wanyin finds his cheeks heating up slightly with the faintest of pinks and hurriedly clears his throat. “Do you mean xiongzhang and yourself?”
Wei Wuxian bursts into loud peals of laughter. “No way, Lan Zhan and I aren’t like that at all!”
Lan Wanyin shoots him a look.
Wei Wuxian laughs even harder at that, crossing his hands behind his head. The movement shifts Wei Wuxian's sleeve that has been covering the white sword hanging at his waist, and Lan Wanyin finds his steel blue eyes involuntarily flickering to it.
He peers at Shuoyue intently in complete silence, then tears his gaze away.
Two months ago, the Two Jades of Lan organised a surprise attack with the help of Wei Wuxian. Through that, they managed to retrieve and return all the swords that had been confiscated during the Wen indoctrination, including Sandu and Shuoyue.
However, Suibian still remains missing till this day.
It should not be as much of a shock for Lan Wanyin. After all, Suibian was not taken by the Wens during the indoctrination, but by Jiang Xichen himself in the massacre of Lotus Pier. But despite knowing and understanding that, there was still a part in Lan Wanyin that was hoping they would find Suibian there, because it would have meant that the missing Jiang Xichen might have been nearby too.
“Don’t worry so much. I’m pretty sure the reason why we haven’t gotten news of him yet is because he is too good at hiding! Did you know that back when we played hide-and-seek, he...” Wei Wuxian trails off awkwardly when he notices the lack of change in Lan Wanyin’s expression. The latter still has his brows furrowed, his eyes clouded over.
Wei Wuxian clears his throat. “Well, I mean, Ge is the best and most talented cultivator in our generation. He can easily win against Wen Chao with his eyes closed, let alone with Zidian and Suibian. With both weapons, he’ll be invincible. So all we can do now is wait patiently for him to return. When he does, he’ll find me for sure, then I’ll return him his sword.”
Wei Wuxian is simply repeating what others have said a thousand times over, repackaged and packed into another form, but perhaps it’s because it is by one of Jiang Xichen’s family members, a person who should be more worried than Lan Wanyin is at this moment—that makes the latter feel slightly better.
”Mn.”
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
Of all the blunders Wen Chao made in his life up until this point, leaving Zidian with Jiang Xichen was probably his worst one.
It was something he had deemed unnecessary at that point in time, and now he reaps the consequences of his inaction.
"Is it the whip again? I hear the whip! I hear it!" Wen Chao hollers out of the blue, his voice thin and shrill. He starts struggling in Wen Zhuliu's arms, twisting his body and kicking his legs out as he slaps his hands over his ears and whimpers non-stop.
"No, it was just thunder. It will storm soon," Wen Zhuliu answers through gritted teeth.
A flash of lightning sparks across the sky, illuminating the two men momentarily. Wen Zhuliu looks similar to his usual self, but there are two dense smears of black under his eyes and he drags his broken left foot behind himself, hobbling as he carries his disabled master.
Wen Chao is still shrieking, shivering violently inside a huge cape as they make their way towards a courier station located in a remote mountainous city on their way back to Qishan. Not many people in the Cultivation World know of this place, and Wen Zhuliu decides that it would be a good shelter for the night.
As soon as they reach the courier station, Wen Zhuliu sets his master on the second floor, and proceeds to swiftly shut all the windows and curtains. Then, he finally returns and lights up the oil lamp on the table.
Wen Chao visibly shrivels in the face of the light and quickly backs away until he is in the furthest corner of the room from the lamp. He buries himself even further into the thick cloak as if it is a cocoon that will protect him from the dangers of the outside world.
"D-D-Don't light it! Don’t light any flames! W-What if he finds us?!"
“Are you saying that if we don’t light the lamp, then he wouldn’t be able to find us?” Wen Zhuliu returns the question without even looking up, too focused on his current task of searching through his sleeves for ointment. Wen Chao swallows worriedly, a lump in his throat, then quickly crawls out from his fabric cocoon and clambers over to the older man on his hands and knees.
His head is bald and enwrapped in thick bandages—a far cry from the haughty Young Master he once was.
“B-But we’ve ran so far and for so long… He shouldn’t b-be able to catch us, right?”
The older cultivator does not sigh although his reserved body language clearly shows that he is weary of dealing with this topic yet again. Instead, he silently peels off the bandages layer by layer, revealing the damaged skin of the bald man. Hideous scars and burn marks of different sizes are littered all over Wen Chao’s face, making the skin appear raw and wrinkled. “Perhaps.”
Wen Chao recoils away at once, fuming. “What do you mean by ‘perhaps’! If we haven’t outran him yet, then why did you stop?!”
“You need ointment and a fresh set of bandages. Besides, it was also about to rain and if your wounds got wet, they would fester.”
Wen Chao sucks in a deep breath, then cowers when Wen Zhuliu takes out a bottle of medicine. Still, he takes the few round pills obediently before sitting back on his heels, trembling as his guard begins applying ointment to the burn marks on his scalp and face.
The young man whimpers in pain, letting out a series of muffled, high-pitched sounds. He wipes his sweat-covered palms wildly down over his robes, trying his best not to allow the tears to leak out, because first-hand experience has taught him that it will only make the pain worse.
“And your legs too,” Wen Zhuliu says after the length of a heartbeat, and Wen Chao immediately backs away again, fear evident in his eyes.
“I don’t want to! It will be too painful!” Wen Chao insists, holding onto the hem of his pants for dear life and slinks back into the comfort of his cape, not allowing Wen Zhuliu to even try. The latter gives up easily and retrieves a few buns from his lapels instead, holding one of them out to Wen Chao.
“Eat. We’ll continue after you finish.”
With shaking palms, Wen Chao cups the food and takes a bite out of it, then another, and suddenly his facial features contorts into a petrified expression and he hastily tosses the bun across the room and goes into yet another screaming fit. “I’m not eating meat! I’m not going to eat meat! I don’t want to eat meat! No more meat!”
Wen Zhuliu passes him another bun, one that is plain with no filling, but Wen Chao slaps it out of his hand all the same. “I’m not eating it, I don’t want to eat anything! Take them all away! Get lost! All I want is to find my dad. Where is he? When can we get back to my dad?!”
“It will take another two days at our current speed.”
His words are quite honest, neither wrongly emphasized nor false. However, Wen Zhuliu had never been a people’s person and does not understand that honesty is not always the best policy. There are times when white lies are essential—like now, for instance, because the truth wrings Wen Chao’s tormented heart far too painfully.
“Two days? Two days?! Do you see the state I am in now? If I wait for another two days, I would be a goner! You useless creature!”
All of a sudden, Wen Zhuliu rises to his feet without a word. Wen Chao flinches from fear and quickly scrambles over to the taller man again. He had seen all his guards dying in front of his eyes one by one over these past few weeks. Wen Zhuliu is both his strongest as well as his last support. He cannot afford to lose him. Knowing this, Wen Chao tactfully changes his words.
“No no no, Wen Zhuliu… Wen… Brother Wen! Don’t go. Please don’t leave me behind! If you can take me back to my dad, I’ll let him promote you to the highest level guest cultivator! No, wait, you saved me. You saved my life, so you’re my benefactor, my… my brother! I’ll ask my dad to recognise you into the main clan! From now on, you’ll be my elder brother!”
However, Wen Zhuliu does not even seem to be swayed by this grand offer. He continues staring in the direction of the stairs without blinking. “There’s no need for that.”
Tap, tap, tap.
Footsteps, one after another, come from the stairs in the courier station.
Someone is walking up the steps, one at a time.
All the excess blood immediately drains from Wen Chao’s burnt face. Trembling, he curls into himself and starts mumbling under his breath, repeating the same sentence over and over again—if I can’t see it, it can’t see me.
Tap, tap, tap.
The footsteps do not stop, and Wen Chao struggles to get to his feet, only to fall forward. The hem of the cape flips up, revealing unnaturally thin legs. Worn bandages are wrapped around them, crusted with dried blood and small gaps that reveal ghastly white bones and strands of sinew. All the flesh on his legs are sliced off, piece by piece.
“No more... Please no more...” Wen Chao whimpers, moving his shaking hands out from the cape to shield his face. The state of his pair of palms are not much better than his feet. They are completely bare, just stumps of meat without a single finger on them.
Tap, tap, tap.
The person slowly walks upstairs. He is dressed from head to toe in pure black, with a cloud of darkness and electrifying sparks of bright purple in the air around him. There is a smile on his face, but it is nothing resembling his usual warm grins. Instead, it is cold, eerie, dangerous, and every step he takes is akin to a resounding warning to the two men on the second floor: I’m coming.
“He’s coming for me! That Jiang brat is coming for me! Do you hear me? Wen Zhuliu… Wen Zhuliu!” Wen Chao exclaims in a raspy breath as the dark-clothed Jiang Xichen steps into the room. The flame is on the verge of dying, casting a dim yellow glow about the intruder.
The corners of Jiang Xichen’s lips curl up. "Did anyone ever mention that you're slow on the uptake, Wen Chao? I genuinely thought that you'd have learned by now that calling your guard dog would not be of any use."
Jiang Xichen walks a few steps closer and kicks a white object by his foot. It is the meat bun that Wen Chao tossed away earlier.
He picks it up. "It's not good to be a picky eater. Sometimes, when food is scarce, you'd have to eat anything and everything you find. You were the one that taught me that."
"I'm not eating it! I'm not eating it! I'm not eating it!" Wen Chao bawls, crawling on the ground with his fingerless hands. The long black cape slides down the lower half of his body, revealing two legs that dangle heavily from his torso as if they are nothing but burdensome accessories.
Smirking, Jiang Xichen takes a step towards the shrieking Wen er-gongzi, only to have Wen Zhuliu intercept him by stepping in between them.
Jiang Xichen pauses fractionally, glowering at Wen Zhuliu, his eyes cold and sharp.
The candlelight flickers then, almost snuffing out, casting half of Jiang Xichen’s face in light while the other half remains clad in shadows—painting a truly menacing picture.
"Wen Zhuliu, do you seriously think you will be able to protect his dog life from my hands?"
Jiang Xichen’s voice is low and dangerous, and Wen Zhuliu instantly shifts into an offensive stance, his arms raised and prepared to strike. "It's better to die trying."
"What a loyal Wen-dog," Jiang Xichen scoffs coldly, setting the meat bun down on the table.
"Sect Leader Wen is my benefactor. I have to repay his generosity."
Jiang Xichen’s expression darkens at once upon hearing these words. "What a joke! Why is it that the debt you owe has to be paid at the expense of others!"
The resentment energy roars to life with the fluctuation of Jiang Xichen’s emotions, forming a sea of murmurings that blocks out all other sounds in the courier station.
Kill. You have to kill them all. Kill them before they kill you. Only the strongest can survive.
Take revenge. We live for vengeance. They killed our brothers before our eyes, we have to make them pay tenfold! Rend them in half! Peel their skin! Slice their flesh! Make them suffer!
Wen Chao… Is his name Wen Chao? We like him, let him join us. Make him join us!
Piercing wails come from Wen Chao who has crawled to a corner and is currently trying as hard as he can to press himself into the wooden boards as though he could squeeze out between them by doing so. His palms are snug against his ears, covering them, while tears run freely down his disfigured face. His lack of vocal cords make his voice sound even more nasal as he grovels and begs for forgiveness.
“Why are you making such a fuss with only this much? What the two of you are hearing now is only a fraction of the voices I heard everyday back at the Burial Mounds.”
Wen Chao howls in agony, hitting the sides of his head vehemently, trying to clear his own mind. However, the demonic energy has no shape or form, and not even Wen Zhuliu is able to protect Wen Chao from it.
The latter is held at bay by a spider web of solidified energy acting as a barrier that spans from floor to ceiling, keeping him at a distance close enough to watch but too far to help.
“Please... pleasepleaseplease, please let me go. I know you hate me, b-b-but I will do anything if you’d just spare my life! I’ll tell my father to recognise you into the main clan! O-Or better still, I’ll ask him to return you Lotus Pier. We can rebuild it, and make it look like the past again, alright? I’ll do anything, really! Please, please just let me go!”
Jiang Xichen’s expression darkens even more at Wen Chao’s words.
He takes one step forward, further from the light source at the table, and the resulting change in angle shrouds his face in shadows. His facial features appear blurred in the darkness, yet the piercing gaze of his two molten amber eyes seemingly brightens, burning a dangerous shade of bright gold.
"I remember that I once begged you to let my parents go. I wonder, what became of it?"
"I'm sorry! I am in the wrong! I was in the wrong!"
Jiang Xichen smiles. "You aren't answering my question. Could it be that you don't recall it? Should I jog your memory then?"
Wen Chao grabs at the hem of his trousers again and shakes his head fervently from side to side. The memories of having all the flesh on his feet sliced off must have been too traumatizing for the once sheltered Young Master.
A dark tendril reaches out, creeping around and under the bandages before pulling them away with a great, swift force. These fresh bandages were just wrapped directly after Wen Zhuliu applied the ointment, and they are still adhered to the wetness.
Burnt skin is naturally weaker to begin with, and the violent tear rips the healing scabs out along with a thin layer of flesh underneath. Even Wen Chao’s lips are torn off, instantly turning the uneven patches of skin bloody.
Wen Chao screeches, his voice obnoxious and hoarse.
Upon hearing his master's bloodcurdling scream, Wen Zhuliu whips out Suibian from a qiankun pouch without a second thought and hastily swings it down on the webbed energy.
The barrier does not even budge.
"So the Core-Melting Hand is willing to pick up arms too," Jiang Xichen observes keenly, but his tone is filled with nothing but scorn.
"Desperate times call for desperate measures."
"Indeed," Jiang Xichen agrees with a curt nod of his head. A wave of black lashes out unexpectedly from the barrier, cleaving Wen Zhuliu's legs into two at the ankles. The older man collapses onto his knees, making muffled grunts of pain.
Jiang Xichen continues speaking offhandedly, as if he is simply talking about the weather. "I don't disagree with that, but as they say: Like master, like man. It seems that if the master likes to steal and use other people's possessions, the servant would behave in the same way too."
Alarmed, Wen Zhuliu hurriedly glances down at the sword in his hand, but it is far too late. The energy controlled by Jiang Xichen snakes up his arm and contracts, blasting the limb into smithereens!
Ribbons of flesh slough onto the ground and Wen Zhuliu roars, his entire face contorting with the sheer amount of pain he is experiencing.
It is the most expression anyone had ever seen on the stoic man before, and ever will.
"You Wen-dogs only ever know how to take from others," Jiang Xichen chastises as he picks Suibian up from the ground. A mixture of complex emotions flits across his face when he touches Suibian, and Wen Zhuliu takes advantage of the distraction to launch an attack.
Unfortunately for him, Jiang Xichen is never one to let his guard down.
He sends Zidian out at once, the length of the whip buzzing and cracking pure black with resentment energy. Bright purple lines the black sparks, flickering in the air around Jiang Xichen.
Wen Zhuliu attempts to retreat at once, but his injured and tired body is far too slow to keep up, and the purple weapon sweeps over and around his neck thrice before he can even bat an eyelid.
Zidian hefts Wen Zhuliu up, leaving him dangling in mid-air. The whip constricts around his neck, cutting off his airflow, and the man kicks his legs out widely, clawing at the restraints. However, suffocation is the least of Wen Zhuliu's worries currently.
The tightening vice cracks several bones in his neck immediately, paralyzing his body while a bout of resentment energy shoots forth and eviscerates him with a deep wound horizontally across the flat of his stomach.
Crimson spills from the gaping wound, and Jiang Xichen holds him there for another whole minute before releasing Zidian, shifting it back into its ring form.
Wen Zhuliu's large, heavy body tumbles downwards, falling flat onto the wooden floorboards with a loud and resounding thud. His face is flushed, eyes opened so wide that it seems as though they will pop out from his skull at any moment.
He gasps greedily for air, his body twitching and intestines pulsing with each ragged breath he draws.
However, with his body immobilized, the man is unable to do anything more than merely groan in sheer agony and watch as the trickling blood pools around himself.
Disembowelment is a slow, painful death that lasts for hours on end, but strangely, Jiang Xichen feels absolutely no guilt over inflicting this capital punishment on Wen Zhuliu—not when the memories of his parents suffering from lingchi are still stark in his memories, not when Ye Yunxiao’s decapitated head still haunts his waking moments.
“It’s your turn next,” Jiang Xichen says, his voice not much louder than a whisper as he turns to Wen Chao, but every single word is loud and clear.
Wen Chao doesn’t scream anymore. He doesn’t try to run away either. It seems as if Wen Zhuliu’s utter defeat was the last straw and the fact that any further resistance is futile has finally sunk into his bald head. Vapidly, Wen Chao lowers his fingerless hands, allowing them to drop flaccidly to his sides in a sign of surrender.
Jiang Xichen kicks him into a kneeling position in the direction of Yunmeng. “Repent.”
The revealed flesh and bones under the bandages rub against each other, eliciting a high-pitched scream from Wen Chao. He continues screaming thereafter too, alternating between whimpering and shrieking as Jiang Xichen raises Suibian and hacks away at Wen Chao, removing piece after piece of flesh, just like how the man had done to his parents.
Blood. Draw blood. We need more blood.
Just kill them all. If you slaughter all of them, then no one else will be able to harm the people you care for!
Violent red pours from the fresh gaping wounds on Wen Chao’s mutilated body. It doesn't gush out in a constant flow, but in time with the beating of his heart—thick and strong initially, then slower and weaker.
Wen Chao’s vermin blood coats the length of Suibian like a tribute to all the Yunmeng Jiang Sect’s lives it had stolen, cleansing the blade, and Jiang Xichen drives the sword deeper into the man’s chest, at the exact same spot where he was once stabbed by them.
Wen Chao falls forward, foaming at his mouth as he slams his hands down desperately at the wooden floorboards.
Dark scarlet droplets splatter up onto Jiang Xichen’s robes and face, appearing almost orange in the candlelight, but the man pays absolutely no attention to the grime on himself or the slick of the red fluid on his palms. Instead, he steps over Wen Chao, glowering down at the dying man.
Make him feel pain. That’s what we are here for, remember?
Jiang Xichen had never felt this much fury before. He had never had the urge to kill anyone like how he has at this moment. Every movement Wen Chao makes irks him, every shuddering breath Wen Chao inhales grates on his ears. He wants—no, needs—to plunge this sword into his nape.
He needs to take revenge for his Sect. He needs to make Wen Chao suffer more. He needs to kill him, decapitate him.
Only then will this miserable feeling inside of him subside.
That’s right, do it. You can do it. You have to do it. Only you can do it.
The Jiang Sect Heir lifts the corners of his lips into a wide maniacal smirk as he stomps a foot down on Wen Chao’s back, pinning him to the ground. Next, he lifts Suibian high above his head, supporting its weight with both hands before swinging the red-clad sword down in a swift, fatal blow towards Wen Chao’s nape.
“Xichen!"
The sudden call of his name gives him pause, but Suibian slices into flesh and bone with sheer momentum all the same, making a satisfying sound as the tip of the blade severs Wen Chao’s head cleanly from his neck. The remains of his body convulses on reflex, hands reaching out as if trying to grasp something, while the cascade of his lifeforce gushes out in all directions over the floorboards.
The sweet tang of blood lingers in the air, tingling in Jiang Xichen’s nostrils as he turns with wide eyes in the direction of the familiar voice.
"Jiang Xichen, did you…?"
Suibian slips from his grip.
“Wanyin...”
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
In all honesty, Lan Wanyin did not expect to find Jiang Xichen this soon.
He had been chasing after Wen Chao alongside Wei Wuxian ever since they met up several days ago, aimlessly following gathered information by their Sect’s disciples about where they had last seen him. The reports guide them up North, in a wide detour that will eventually lead them towards Qishan, yet although they know the supposed destination, they are still always a step too late.
All they find waiting for them at each site are either deserted supervision offices, or ones that are filled to the brim with corpses of Wen cultivators and teeming with an overpowering amount of evil energy.
“Wen Chao is definitely in this city. If we follow his route so far, he would likely stop for the night either somewhere here or the next town,” Wei Wuxian postulates. "We should split up and check around this area."
They had been chasing until late into the fourth night when they come across a remote mountainous city they had never heard of before. The lands are mostly barren here, with an eerie atmosphere that is made worse by the rumbling of thunder and flashes of lightning.
A foul premonition of something terrible settles in the pit of Lan Wanyin’s stomach. He had never felt like this before, never felt this unnerving amount of unease creeping over and across his limbs.
“I do not think we should split up. It might be dangerous. The way the Wen cultivators were killed in the supervision offices was not normal.”
Wei Wuxian scoffs. “You’re thinking too much, Lan-xiong. Look, whatever is after Wen Chao is definitely on our side. Everyone in the supervision offices we have passed have been killed. If we assume that Wen Chao stopped by them to rest, it would all make sense. Judging by the gruesome deaths and amount of resentment energy lingering behind, I’d say that there is definitely something resentful after Wen Chao and those other people in the supervision offices are just unlucky.”
“Someone,” Lan Wanyin corrects tersely. “It can’t just be a normal ghoul. Even cultivators high in both rank and cultivation have fallen prey to it. Besides… if it were just something, there would be no need to go the extra mile to make a detour. What we are dealing with must be capable of thought. But...”
Wei Wuxian raises a brow. “But?”
“But will anyone even be able to wield resentment energy?”
Wei Wuxian bursts out into loud peals of laughter, but his chuckles are flushed out by the roar of thunder. “You sound exactly like your uncle when you say that, Lan-xiong! Just look at it this way, spiritual energy is energy; resentment energy is also energy. If spiritual energy is available for human use, then why can’t resentment energy also be used as well? The source might differ but the methodology would likely be the same.”
Lan Wanyin slips his eyes close as the first few droplets of water fall sparingly from heavy clouds. “There are indeed records in the Lan Sect’s Library Pavilion detailing attempts at alternate cultivation methods. In fact, the Qinghe Nie Sect is also using the energy of beasts and creatures to cultivate their sabres. However, all of these records mentioned that such cultivators either suffered from qi deviations or were consumed by their own powers. Throughout time, there has not been a single exception.”
“Not yet,” Wei Wuxian points out simply. “There is no way we would know what the future holds. Even if there hasn’t been one up until now, we can’t be sure that there would never be one in the future as well. Flying on swords has also been something that was inconceivable at some point in time, so—”
"I'm sorry! I am in the wrong! I was in the wrong!"
A shrill scream resounds a little ways from where they are, interrupting Wei Wuxian mid-sentence. It is probably not all that noticeable to the untrained ear, but the sound and uttered words are as clear as day for the two cultivators.
Lan Wanyin and Wei Wuxian exchange a look at once.
They recognise that voice. It is undeniably Wen Chao's voice—familiar in a way that evokes unpleasant memories, however, at the same time, also a lot thinner and sharper than what they remember.
Is it really Wen Chao?
But what about Wen Zhuliu then? Shouldn't he be protecting his master? For Wen Chao to shriek like that… Does that mean that something happened to the Core-Melting Hand?
Or is this a trap?
The Wens have not taken down the wanted posters for Wei Wuxian and Jiang Yanli yet after all.1
Wary of the potential dangers, the two men then stealthily follow the voices deeper into the forest, until they find themselves face to face with a dilapidated building. It is two stories tall, with an attached stable to the side. All the windows are tightly shut, yet the front door is wide open, allowing a series of ominous spine-chilling howls of agony to pour out from within.
Lan Wanyin draws in a shaky breath, and is about to follow Wei Wuxian up onto the roof to survey the situation when he catches the faintest trace of a second person’s voice from inside the courier station.
"Repent."
It is a voice that seems to have been directly lifted from his distant memory—a tone that is smooth like velvet, with a charming and confident lilt to it—and Lan Wanyin’s brain stutters for a moment, every part of his body going on pause while his thoughts struggle to catch up.
His mouth goes dry. His heart speeds up involuntarily, thundering against his ribcage.
It's been three months.
It has been three months, but he will still recognise that voice no matter where and when he hears it. Because it is the voice of the person he holds the closest to his heart after all.
Xichen... Xichen-ge… Lan Wanyin repeats endlessly in his head.
Emotions that he had never felt before and emotions that he had never thought he was capable of ever feeling, all burst forth like water from a dam, and Lan Wanyin finds himself moving before he can perceive the plausible consequences, simply forcing himself to place one foot before the other as he ducks into the courier station and runs up the stairs, two steps at a time.
But is it really him? Could it really be him?
Or is it just a mere illusion?
Lan Wanyin's breath hitches when he sees the silhouette of a man right at the top of the stairs.
He is dressed differently from usual, not a single shade of purple on him. Even his hairstyle has changed, dark strands cascading down his back instead of being pulled into its usual high bun, but Lan Wanyin is certain that this is Jiang Xichen.
It has to be him.
No one else could possibly make him feel like this.
“Xichen," Lan Wanyin says before he can stop himself, the two syllables slipping out from between his lips like a puff of warm air on a cool night.
Xichen-ge.
The bubbling affection and mounting sense of relief welling inside his chest cannot be controlled, but his body and limbs can be. Even if Lan Wanyin wants nothing more than to rush forward and pull Jiang Xichen into his arms at this very moment, he knows that there are lines that should not and cannot be crossed.
Lan Wanyin draws in a grounding breath and takes another small step forward.
Squelch.
The sole of Lan Wanyin’s boots sink into a crimson puddle of wetness. It is then that he realises the thick scent of rust in the air, and he slowly follows the trail of red with wide eyes, until his gaze lands on the mutilated whimpering mass.
Wen Chao is dressed in thin, ragged robes, the sun motif at the ends of the sleeves nearly indiscernible, blended in with the stark colour of fresh blood. His face is completely disfigured, looking nothing at all like what Lan Wanyin remembers—but the most foreign thing in this room for Lan Wanyin at this moment is not Wen Chao, but Jiang Xichen himself.
Apart from his face, there is nothing similar between this person before him and the Jiang Xichen from his memories.
This man is like a husk, cold and unfeeling. The corners of his lips are twisted skywards in a sadistic grin as he towers over the struggling Wen Chao, a foot planted firmly on the square of the latter's back.
His eyes are a glowing shade of liquid gold, but instead of warmth, they instill a sense of eerie cold that compounds with the uneasiness welling in the pit of the Lan cultivator's stomach.
Jiang Xichen's grin widens, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
"Xichen!" Lan Wanyin gasps, but the blade of Suibian is already falling.
An arc of scarlet spurts across the wooden floor tiles, narrowly missing the tip of Lan Wanyin’s fabric shoes. The latter slides his foot back on reflex, the sole of his right boot skidding over the wet blood as Wen Chao's beheaded head rolls over towards him, revealing a pair of eye whites and a twitching throat.
White froth leaks from Wen Chao's gaping mouth as thin streams of blood ooze from his severed neck.
Lan Wanyin thinks he hears more blood spilling in the background, probably from Wen Chao’s body, but he can no longer wrap his head around what he has just witnessed.
It is too surreal—all too surreal.
There is a lump in his throat and a strange vice seemingly constricting his chest, making his breath come in short wheezes. Tears of disbelief prickle the corners of Lan Wanyin’s eyes
"Jiang Xichen, did you…?"
Did you do all of this, Lan Wanyin wants to ask but the question dies at the tip of his tongue.
He does not need to voice the question to know the answer, just like how he does not need to finish his statement for Jiang Xichen to grasp its meaning.
The taller man whirls around, eyes wide with shock. The golden tint in it spazzes out at once and he glances at the state of the room wildly, snapping his gaze rapidly from side to side. His Adam's apple bobs with each swallow, as if the realisation of what he had been doing thus far had just hit him, and perhaps it is with that realisation that Suibian slips from his grip, clattering against the planks.
“Wanyin...”
Jiang Xichen draws in a stuttered breath, stepping over Wen Chao’s unmoving body as he shakily makes his way across the room towards Lan Wanyin. He reaches out with trembling fingers then, their very tips tinted red with blood.
With whose blood?
The latter recoils immediately, shying away from Jiang Xichen’s fingers out of reflex. It was something that had seemed normal to do at that point in time—but little did Lan Wanyin know that this small action he made will haunt him for the next decade, haunt him like how the nameless emotion at the depths of Jiang Xichen’s eyes flickers away and melts back into its cool façade.
Jiang Xichen lowers his hand.
Lan Wanyin opens his mouth to say something, anything, but before he does so, a muffled groan comes behind them. The latter doesn't seem to have noticed it, but Wen Zhuliu launches himself towards Jiang Xichen in the very next moment, his free arm outstretched and eyes bloodshot.
It is akin to a last burst of strength before succumbing to death, and Wen Zhuliu appears to be focused solely on Jiang Xichen, focused on taking Jiang Xichen down with him.
Lan Wanyin immediately reaches out, trying to grab the older man’s wrist and yank him out of the way. However, a loud smash from above makes Jiang Xichen turn on his heel, and Lan Wanyin misses his target by mere inches.
"Ge! Lan-xiong! Be careful!" Wei Wuxian who is on the roof hollers as he unsheathes Shuoyue and smacks down, shattering the tiles and descending onto the second floor of the courier station. Shuoyue slices through white bone in the same action, sending Wen Zhuliu's amputated limb flying across the room, and the Core-Melting Hand slumps onto the ground in a puddle of his own blood.
If there was any shred of remaining hope for Wen Zhuliu to survive the ordeal, they are all gone now with the way his intestines fall out of his body.
Yet, Wei Wuxian does not seem perturbed by the gory sight at all. Instead, he lands smoothly on the balls of his feet and cleans the blood off Shuoyue before tossing the sheathed weapon over. "Here!"
Jiang Xichen catches it reflexively, without a second thought.
He then wavers for a short moment after, looking down at Shuoyue with an inexplicable expression and only replies after a long, stagnant pause. "Thank you…"
"There's nothing to thank me for, you should thank Lan-xiong instead. If not for him, we wouldn't be able to get the swords back from the Wens! He was the one that planned everything and I just went along with it. Right?" Wei Wuxian winks at the younger cultivator, then bends to pick Suibian up from the muck.
Jiang Xichen turns to Lan Wanyin. "Thank you."
Lan Wanyin averts his gaze.
The atmosphere turns uncomfortable at once.
A long silence drags on between the three men, none of them venturing to speak. Eventually, a perplexed Wei Wuxian attempts to change the mood by walking over and giving Jiang Xichen a hearty slap on the back.
"Ge, did you know how hard we tried to find you? Shijie and I were so worried. Where did you run off to during these three months?"
Jiang Xichen pauses blankly with the slap initially. However, his face quickly brightens up a few moments later, and he leans over, bumping shoulders with Wei Wuxian like their good old times.
"My memory of that period is very fuzzy, so I'll spare you the details. All I recall is Wen Chao tossing me into a dark and cold place to suffer. It took me three months to find my way out of there and the first thing I heard was that you and A-Jie are both safe and rebuilding the Sect, so I went ahead to kill a few Wen-dogs to lighten your burden."
The slight trembling of Jiang Xichen's hands betrays his feigned ignorance but Lan Wanyin does not point it out, at least not in front of the seemingly blissfully unaware Wei Wuxian.
"Well, that's fine too. It's all in the past now anyway. It's just really good that you're back, Ge! Now I can pass all the Sect Leader duties back to you! I've been so busy in the last few months that my head's gotten bigger. I'm seriously not cut out for this meticulous labour!"
"You're being overly dramatic," Jiang Xichen comments fondly, rolling his eyes at Wei Wuxian's antics.
"And you are letting your guard down too much!" Wei Wuxian smirks, leaping forward in the heat of the moment and winding his arms around Jiang Xichen’s torso. "Ge, let me tell you. Lan-xiong has been the most worried one of us all. He hasn't been eating and sleeping properly all week and he even rushed out at the first news of Wen Chao."
Jiang Xichen peers at Lan Wanyin from the corner of his eye, then swiftly turns his attention back to Wei Wuxian. "Alright, stop dragging Lan er-gongzi's name through the mud like that. Even if I think with my toe,2 it's still obvious that you're the one who insisted on dragging him along."
Wei Wuxian playfully shoves Jiang Xichen away with an exaggerated pout. "In any case, it's all good as long as you're back!"
"Yes, it's… it's great to be back," Jiang Xichen replies almost immediately with a low chuckle, but the sound rings almost hollow to Lan Wanyin’s ears. He can't put a finger to it, but something feels wrong.
Something feels false.
There is a mounting feeling of unease in Lan Wanyin as he watches the two of them interact before his eyes. On the surface, it may appear the same as usual, but there are several subtle differences that the younger cultivator can easily pick up because he had always been looking at Jiang Xichen, looking up to him, chasing after him—in hopes of being able to walk alongside him someday.
Lan Wanyin takes a hesitant step forward. "Xichen, were you the one who has been killing the Wen disciples?"
Jiang Xichen blinks, the glint in his eyes and the tilt to his lips appearing cruel and menacing under the waning candlelight. "Of course."
"I knew it was you, Ge. But why did you choose to kill them all one by one? Wouldn't it be easier to lure them all together and ambush them in one fell swoop?"
"Straight up killing them would be too easy. I wanted them to experience everything I went through tenfold. I had to let them soak in the despair of seeing their comrades die before themselves while they can't do anything other than wait helplessly for their turn. I wanted Wen Chao to beg me to spare his life, then mercilessly take the glimmer of hope away from him. That's just his rightful deserts."
The maniacal gold glint is back in Jiang Xichen’s eyes, and the pungent rot of death flares up in the courier station.
Lan Wanyin frowns. "Rightful? How?"
"You were not there, so you don't know how it was, Lan er-gongzi." The taller cultivator makes his way across the room, one step at a time, and leans in, whispering lowly against the shell of Lan Wanyin’s ear. "A thousand and five hundred lives. It's a whole thousand and five hundred Yunmeng Jiang lives, Wanyin. None of their corpses were whole, all burned into ashes right before my very own two eyes. Do you know how that feels?"
A cloud of black swirls around Jiang Xichen.
Lan Wanyin swallows instinctively, his hairs standing on end. His throat is dry, and his tongue feels leaden, but still, he presses on.
"Is that the only reason?"
"That is the only reason."
Lan Wanyin’s eyes are glued to Jiang Xichen’s, searching, but he finds nothing similar. Everything about him seems hauntingly foreign, in a way that leaves Lan Wanyin at a loss because at this moment, he feels as if he no longer knows the latter.
Can three months really change someone this radically?
Lan Wanyin purses his lips, drawing his brows together as he struggles to phrase his thoughts in a coherent manner. "Xichen, if you are facing any difficulties, you can tell m—"
"Drop it." Jiang Xichen’s tone is curt and unforgiving as he angles his body away from Lan Wanyin before the latter even comes close to touching the sullied black sleeve. "Just drop it, Wanyin. This night has been far too long. I'm tired."
Lan Wanyin's outstretched hand falls limply back to his side.
He remains standing there for a long time, wordlessly, watching Jiang Xichen turn and go down the stairs. He does not even budge when Wei Wuxian brushes by him on the way out with a concerned look.
His heart is numb. So numb.
Lan Wanyin does not know how long has passed before he finally manages to pull himself back together sufficiently to let out a broken sob, but the golden rays from the morning sun have slanted in from the hole in the broken roof by then.
The sun is warm against the curve of his back, and Lan Wanyin crouches down, curling in on himself as he presses the heels of his palms to his swollen eyes.
The night has passed.
The sun has risen.
Yet the light in Lan Wanyin’s world has ceased to be.
Notes:
1. There are no wanted posters placed for Jiang Xichen because Wen Chao genuinely believed that he was dead and/or would never make it out of Burial Mounds. This is not really touched on in this part of the story, but this is also why Lan Wanyin is desperate to find Suibian with the Wens, because the lack of a wanted poster means the Wens know where Jiang Xichen is. Back
2. This is an actual chinese saying “就算用脚趾头想” which means something is so blatantly obvious that one does not even need to use their brain for deduction. Instead, using something without a brain, like a toe, would suffice. Back
***
Because of the character limit in the endnotes, I could only fit this short excerpt to give a brief feel of what Jiang Xichen went through in the Burial Mounds. On a side note, I like how everyone has Jiang Xichen's best wishes at heart but what they "help" him with also later causes him to meet his demise faster 👀
Also, YLLZ!JXC so sexy...... ;o;
Jiang Xichen curls his fingers, digging them into grime on Burial Mounds.
Grief and hatred are stark in him, akin to poison that burns every single cell, setting all his nerve endings aflame. Red contours the sides of his vision, conjuring up wretched hallucinations that attack his weak vulnerable sides—the insecurities he had never shown anyone before.
A-Huan, why did you come back? I told you to leave. Why do you never ever listen to A-Niang?
Xichen, you shouldn't have returned. Why are you always…
Ge, how could you leave me behind? You betrayed my trust, this is your retribution!
"Shut up! Don’t disrespect them!" Jiang Xichen roars in pure fury, his words punctuated by ragged breaths. "They would never say things like that!"
But they think it.
They think it. You think it.
“I do not!” Jiang Xichen spits, lying through gritted teeth. Every breath hurts, every movement aches, yet they will never compare to the sheer emotional pain inflicted on him from this alone.
A series of murmurs flares around him, sounding close then far, as if an entire crowd is speaking right into his head at the same time. Dark tendrils form a cloak of shadows that drapes onto Jiang Xichen, keeping him pinned to the rotten dirt ground.
“Get off of me!” Jiang Xichen growls ferally, his wounds tearing again as he pours all of his strength into his limbs and forcefully tries to claw his way out. He doesn’t know how long he has been doing this. All that he knows is what the formless ghouls on the Burial Mounds are attempting to do: weaken his resolve and entrap him here forever, just like how they have done to countless other cultivators.
But he is different. He can’t afford to stumble here.
Attempt the impossible.
That’s right. He is a Jiang after all.
If no one had ever crawled out of here before, he’ll be the first.
If no one had ever succeeded at controlling resentment energy before, he’ll be the first.
Something flares up at his waistband to answer his resolve, a comforting heat that’s enclosed within a wisteria embroidered pouch.
The inscriptions on it blast away the traces of energy on Jiang Xichen’s skin, offering the man a respite. It’s not sufficient to clear his head completely, but Jiang Xichen uses that opening to his advantage, moulding the dark energy like how he would spiritual energy, forcing the voices to settle into a level he can ignore for the most part.
It’s cold, it’s different, it’s foreign—but it’s enough.
It is a new power that he can control.
It's either you or them, Jiang Xichen. You desire vengeance, don't you?
Jiang Xichen’s eyes glint gold.
Yes. Vengeance. Revenge. Make the Wen-dogs pay.
Emotions have no mass, yet it feels as if the entire world is on his shoulders.
He'll do anything for that sole purpose. Even if it means to go against everyone, even if it means to get off his sunshine path and walk down that single plank bridge alone all the way to the end.
To darkness.
Chapter 19: Retribution I
Notes:
Before you start reading, please note that unlike the canon MDZS, the spiritual swords do not get too heavy to wield without spiritual energy here. Instead, non-cultivators would only be able to wield them as normal swords, which would still work just fine as weapons, but be extremely suspicious because cultivators would usually use sword incantations and/or fly on their swords.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
<FLASHBACK>
Time passes by in the blink of an eye during war. It feels as if the cicadas had just started singing yesterday, but today has already eased well into the season for heating stoves.
The Sunshot Campaign that had initially seemed both underwhelming and unpromising followed the same pattern too. Before anyone even had the time to blink, the Nies and Lans had kickstarted the rebellion in full force by taking over numerous areas in Hejian, and beheaded Wen Xu who was sent in to suppress them. The death of Wen Ruohan's eldest son took the Cultivation World by storm, and just when the Wen elders thought that things couldn't possibly get any worse, the Yunmeng Jiang Sect resurfaced.
Jiang Xichen was akin to a cockroach that was trampled on but did not die—and his reappearance together with a new cultivation method boosted the morale of all the rebels and gave the new recruits the last push they needed to finally pluck their courage and join the Sunshot Campaign.
Within the short span of six months, the size of the rebel faction had nearly tripled and they wrangled a huge portion of their old territories back from the now heirless Wen Sect Leader. And with the Jins taking a backseat to the other rampaging sects, Nie Mingjue, Lan Wangji, and Jiang Xichen become known as the pillars of the Sunshot Campaign. Their mere names instill awe in their brethren but stir waves of unease in the hearts of the Wen supporters.
However, little do they know that the newly crowned Jiang Sect Leader is nowhere near as invincible as the rumours make him out to be.
The usage of resentment energy is a novel method that has never been extensively studied before. Despite this, it is not difficult to extrapolate from the current studies and assume that it would likely act similarly to a double edged sword, harming both the body and mind in exchange for immense power, and Jiang Xichen is just starting to see how detrimental wielding it can actually be.
For the whole month since his return, there has yet to be a single day without constant nightmares plaguing and tormenting him.
It is as if the voices in his head know of his deepest fears and they show him exactly that—images of blood-soaked white robes, of a red ribbon resting atop a corpse with their face pulverised beyond recognition, of his sister stabbed through her throat, suffocating from her own blood—and Jiang Xichen jerks awake night after night with cold sweat running down his back.
The voices grow more prominent each time he uses resentment energy, as though each occurrence is giving them more control over his body.
Initially, they start with low whispers that only appear whenever he wields the evil power, forming a flurry of muted murmurs that fade into the background easily enough on a battlefield, but as the weeks drift by, Jiang Xichen notices a distinct change.
The uttered words gradually begin to get louder and clearer, penetrating deep into the recesses of his mind even when he is not using demonic cultivation, and the realisation that all of these would inevitably get far worse someday gradually sinks in, unsettling him.
His current predicament is akin to falling into a deep, dark pit. No matter how much he struggles, he can never scale the walls and see the light again.
The only direction left to go is down.
Then let loose. Destroy everything.
Jiang Xichen tightens his grip around the wisteria pouch dangling from his waistband, feeling a spark of warmth rev up from within as the etched incantations to repel evil activate. It momentarily clears the intruding voices from his mind, granting him a respite to re-centre his focus solely on the battle at hand.
The sound of war is deafening within the confined space of the Wen Supervision Office they chanced upon on their path from Ganquan down to Kuizhou1—startlingly loud with shrieks of pain and the crackle of fire as flames lick up the sides of the wooden buildings. Jiang Xichen recoils from the sensation of heat fanning across his skin, only to hear Wei Wuxian's obnoxiously loud yells from across the courtyard.
"Ge, behind you!"
The coreless Sect Leader did not hear the Wen Cultivator approaching at all, but his honed reflexes help him duck instantaneously and he thrusts Shuoyue out behind him diagonally upwards in the same motion. The end of the scabbard smashes into the throat of the approaching cultivator and throws him completely off balance, knocking his sword out of his hands and sending him sprawling backwards.
Jiang Xichen takes a threatening step towards the defenceless Wen soldier, Shuoyue still sheathed but Zidian roaring to life with a menacing glare—and a warning arrow embeds itself into the ground mere millimetres before his foot.
Intrigued, Jiang Xichen inclines his head in response, briefly glancing in the general direction of the archer in time to spot another released arrow coming his way, its metallic glint reflecting a blinding streak of light. Swiftly, he tightens his abdominal muscles, using them to tilt his body to the far right as the arrow whizzes by, narrowly missing his vitals.
With his right hand, Jiang Xichen then lashes out with Zidian, using the trajectory of the whip to extend and coil the demonic energy coating the heirloom several times around the archer's ankle. A sharp flick of his wrist thereafter yanks the man cleanly off the roof and sends him smashing down onto gravel, and the latter's resulting screams from the impact is masked by the signal flare Wei Wuxian successfully releases.
It speeds up into the sky in a straight line and explodes immediately after, forming the beautiful purple lotus motif of the Yunmeng Jiang Sect.
And amidst that, a young man with ethereally beautiful features descends, cradling a qin on the crook of his arm, his trademark white attire and tails of his forehead ribbon billowing in the cool night breeze. He spins the instrument on the flat of his palm and hovers it before himself.
“L-Lan Wanyin?!” the scattered Wen cultivators gasp when they finally notice him, but they barely even have sufficient time to react because the very tip of Lan Wanyin’s forefinger glows with the faintest of blues. In the next moment, he flicks it outwards, using the qin as a tool to amplify the spiritual energy into a huge wave that crashes down on nearly half of the Wen Cultivators and throws them cleanly off their feet.
The other Wens immediately fly into a frenzy at the power difference. They scatter all at once, haphazardly shoving each other out of the way without any ounce of hesitation as they charge towards the exit.
"Quick, retreat! Get to the gates!"
Lan Wanyin takes in the scene below with cool eyes, and with an unchanging expression, he sets his right hand atop the silk strings and strums all seven of them out at once.
A bolt of bright blue streaks forth together with the rich tone, racing up to the sky where it explodes in a shower of glowing aqua that descends upon the earth as an impenetrable barrier. The small handful of Wens that managed to make it to the gates are repelled at once, blasted back towards the middle of the Supervision Office where the Jiang disciples hastily capture them.
"Lan-xiong!" Wei Wuxian greets, giving Lan Wanyin an enthusiastic wave. "What was that technique just now? It was incredible! If we use it, we can definitely win all our battles easily!"
The latter lands lightly on the balls of his feet, sliding the clothed instrument over into its qiankun pouch before nodding to return the greeting.
"Unfortunately, the technique is incomplete. It has neither range nor duration and consumes too much spiritual energy. With my current cultivation level, holding it for half the length of one incense2 is my limit."
"But—"
"But you are being too persistent." Jiang Xichen raps the side of Wei Wuxian’s head lightly with his knuckles when he approaches the duo, eliciting a loud whiny response from his shidi.
Lan Wanyin chuckles at that, just a small low sound that is quickly stifled, but Jiang Xichen finds his gaze flickering to and lingering on the younger man all the same.
They have not met in a little more than three months, and Lan Wanyin has changed so much. The maturation of his appearance is one thing, but there is something inherently different about his atmosphere too—something calmer and more subdued; something that clearly sets him apart from the shy, prideful and easily angered youth Jiang Xichen met back at Cloud Recesses.
His heart twinges, and Jiang Xichen drags his gaze back up along the length of Lan Wanyin’s immaculate ebony hair framing his face to spot a familiar looking lotus hairpin in his topknot.
It was his gift to Lan Wanyin once upon a time—a hairpin made from lavender jade that Jiang Xichen had handcrafted because he thought it would suit Wanyin, a present Wanyin had insisted on not using, an item that he had never thought he would be able to see Wanyin with in this lifetime anymore.
Jiang Xichen swallows thickly, his chest so warm and full at this moment that he thinks it will burst from just the sheer amount of emotion alone.
He wants to say something, he needs to say something, but no words come to mind.
What words can even convey his emotions right now?
Wei Wuxian clears his throat exaggeratedly, nudging Jiang Xichen in his side. "I say, Ge... You literally can't stop talking about Lan-xiong when he is away, but now that he's here, you just stand there staring like an idiot."
Jiang Xichen blinks twice in confusion.
"Things like: I wonder what Wanyin is doing now? Ah, isn't this the dish that Wanyin loves the most? Oh, I miss Wanyin so very much!" Wei Wuxian acts out each sentence, complete with exaggerated actions, before yelling over his shoulder to deal the very last blow. "All of you brothers heard our sect leader say those before, right?"
All the Jiang disciples present instantly erupt into a raucous round of cheers in agreement.
"W-Wei Wuxian, you…" Jiang Xichen exclaims indignantly in a mix of horror and embarrassment, but the latter has already darted a great distance away and simply turns around to waggle his brows suggestively and poke his tongue out at them.
Jiang Xichen’s brow twitches in annoyance, a stiff smile frozen on his lips. Beside him, the tips of Lan Wanyin’s ears tint pink as a soft chuckle bubbles out from him.
"Wei-xiong is still as bad at lying as ever."
"Is he?" Jiang Xichen replies, not knowing that his rhetorical question could be interpreted differently than intended, and Lan Wanyin's expression softens at his words.
There is only the slightest tilt skywards at the corners of his lips, but the soft smile blooming on his features extends to his eyes and deep into his soul.
"I have something to admit, Xichen. That technique I used earlier had nothing to do with Gusu Lan. The foundation for it was inspired by books I read during my seclusion, but the resulting technique is one I invented for a foolish personal desire."
Jiang Xichen blinks twice in confusion. "Desire?"
"The desire to keep someone close. The desire to keep them by my side." Lan Wanyin draws in a shaky breath, as if he is preparing himself to finally say something that he had always wanted to vocalise. "The desire to pin their wings so they won't ever leave and get hurt by others. But in the end, I understood that that is nothing but one of the three poisons."
"San… du?" Jiang Xichen echoes blankly, his gaze promptly falling to Lan Wanyin’s sword.
"Indeed. Yet, I couldn't sit still and do nothing when we got the letter from Yunmeng Jiang asking for assistance. Shufu initially wanted to send xiongzhang, but I insisted I wanted to come instead."
Jiang Xichen peers at him, curious. “Why?”
"Because the person I always wanted to be of help to has finally reached out."
The world seemingly screeches to a stop there and then, falling away shred by shred to leave only the two of them in that very moment, staring into each other’s eyes. Steel blue against molten amber, light against dark, white against black.
"To live unfettered by worldly desires and to be above the three poisons.3 That's the teachings of Gusu Lan, the values we inherited from Lan An, but it does not go so smoothly in practice. Mortal desires hold us back, but letting them go completely would not be considered 'living', would it?" Lan Wanyin keeps his unwavering gaze locked on Jiang Xichen, the single look alone speaking of a thousand unspoken words. "Wanting to love, wanting to be loved, wanting to help, wanting to be helped—that's all a part of life, isn’t it?"
Lan Wanyin pivots on his heel with those words, planting himself directly opposite Jiang Xichen and stretches a hand out to the older man. “Let me help you, Xichen.”
Let me love you.
Jiang Xichen's breath catches.
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
“Ge, you have been staring at that pouch with a weird smile for over a shichen4 already. Are you ill?” Wei Wuxian slaps a hand unceremoniously to Jiang Xichen’s forehead, the action nearly making the older man drop his sachet in surprise. "Hm? But you are not feverish."
"Of course I'm not," Jiang Xichen replies tersely, swatting Wei Wuxian's hand away and gently rubs the reddening area on his forehead.
He would not go as far as to say that he feels more fragile now, but he definitely noticed several changes ever since he lost his core—he bruises more easily, his wounds take much longer to heal—and given that he had already cultivated a golden core as far back as his memories go, this is a completely new experience for Jiang Xichen.
And it is not a pleasant one either.
Since young, Jiang Xichen had always been told he was the Sect Heir and would someday become the Sect Leader. Immense pressure and huge responsibilities that came with the role had never ceased to make him envious of normal civilians, and he always yearned to lead a different life, away from war, from politics, from responsibilities.
How nice would it be if he had the luxury of choosing his fate and path in life.
Yet, when his core was melted by Wen Zhuliu, when he was given a chance at long last to make this impossible dream come true, all he felt was an overwhelming sense of helplessness, powerlessness, and fear.
What was he without cultivation?
What was he without Yunmeng Jiang?
If he had been brought up his entire life just to become the next Sect Leader, then what would be left if this role was taken away from him?
What should he live for then?
"—Lan-xiong."
Jiang Xichen reflexively tightens his grip around the rigid shape of the jade token within the fabric confines. "What?"
Wei Wuxian makes a face. He tears off the cover for the wine jug and downs half of it in one huge gulp. "I said, you've been holding that pouch so much both on and off the battlefield that everyone is speculating if it's a gift from a beautiful young maiden, but I bet that is from Lan-xiong!"
Jiang Xichen rolls his eyes.
"Since when have you been so adept at teasing your shixiong? If you have the time to be cheeky, then go count the supplies and inspect the weapons."
"But am I wrong though?"
Jiang Xichen shoots Wei Wuxian a pointed look.
"Well, I have no extra time and effort for romance right now. All I want is to hurry and retake Lotus Pier, then put an end to this war."
Right now, he is still the Sect Leader and laden with duties to keep Yunmeng Jiang together. The safety and reputation of the Sect lies on his shoulders, and together with the fact that he is seen as a beacon of hope—as someone who suffered directly at the hands of the Wens and came out stronger—made it impossible for him to admit that he had lost his core.
He can't bring himself to do something that would inevitably damage the morale of the Sunshot Campaign. And that in turn, means he has to continue practicing demonic cultivation.
No matter how much he desires to pursue a relationship with Lan Wanyin currently, there was no way the righteous Gusu Lan Sect would ever approve of their Second Young Master being with someone using such an unorthodox method. Even if Lan Wanyin is willing, Lan Qiren, Lan Wangji, and the other Lan elders would definitely be against it.
But all of that would no longer be an issue after the war ends.
When peace is finally restored, Jiang Xichen would likely no longer fear. He would no longer need to pretend that he still has his core. He can pass the Sect Leader position to his sister or Wei Wuxian, then get rid of all the resentment energy in himself once and for all.
It might take some time, and he would end up becoming just an average commoner after that, but if Lan Wanyin was willing to wait for him, then he too, would find the strength to see this through to the end.
“Enough about me,” Jiang Xichen sighs, snagging the jug from Wei Wuxian and polishes off the other half. “What about you? How are things going between you and Lan Wangji?”
“Lan Zhan?” Wei Wuxian blinks several times in confusion. “Why would you bring him up now?”
Jiang Xichen raises a brow. “Don’t you like him?”
Wei Wuxian rolls his eyes. “Lan Zhan is just a good friend. Besides, he’s a block of wood with the emotional capacity of a brick, and his home is a place with three thousand suffocating rules. Definitely not my type by a long mile."
"You sure placed a great deal of thought into someone who isn't your type, huh?"
Wei Wuxian shoves Jiang Xichen's shoulder, making the latter fall onto his back. Jiang Xichen’s breath leaves him in a stuttered huff.
The two young men pause in complete silence for a moment before dissolving into peals of laughter.
"W-What on earth… What on earth was that sound, Ge?!" Wei Wuxian says between poorly stifled chuckles, gripping his sides as he gasps for air between loud howls of laughter. "I… I haven't laughed this hard i-in forever, pfft!"
"Shut up," Jiang Xichen replies with no real heat behind his words, pulling Wei Wuxian into a loose chokehold and ruffling the other man’s hair. Unfortunately, that seemingly has the completely opposite effect instead, making Wei Wuxian erupt into louder chortles. Laughter is contagious and the two men double over, lying on their sides and pressing a hand to their mouths as tears build up at the corners of their eyes.
"Oh god. Wei Wuxian, you… Stop laughing already!"
“I-I physically can’t!”
“Try harder!” Jiang Xichen replies, and the two men dissolve into peals of laughter again, until they finally run out of air and tiredly flop onto their backs atop the grassy field they are seated at, limbs stretched out and chests heaving.
Wei Wuxian runs his fingers through his hair, pushing his sweat-matted fringe away from his forehead.
“Look, Ge. The stars are so pretty tonight."
Jiang Xichen cracks an eye open and glances up at the vast star-speckled sky above them.
There are lighter patches and embedded clusters of faint and bold light forming constellations that resemble brilliant pearls that sit cushioned upon pure black velvet. The sea of stars stretch forth, then disappear as they dip behind the silhouette of mountains.
“It’s so pretty,” Wei Wuxian continues. “But nowhere near as beautiful as the ones we used to see back at Lotus Pier. The waters reflect the stars there so the sky always appears endless, especially when you row a boat right out to the middle of the lake.”
Jiang Xichen hums under his breath in agreement.
Wei Wuxian flips onto his side, propping his head up with a hand. “Say, Ge, why don’t we split up? I’ll make a detour up to Yiling, then meet you at Yunmeng.”
“Yiling? Why?”
“I have an informant there that can give us the information we need about the Wens at Yunmeng. Things like where the guards are stationed and when they change their shifts.”
Jiang Xichen narrows his eyes. “A Wen?”
“A trusted friend,” Wei Wuxian corrects. “This way, we don’t have to waste manpower and supplies to survey the area and we can jump straight into battle to reclaim Lotus Pier. It’s a win-win situation.”
“How do you know that he wouldn’t cross us?”
“How do you know he will cross us?” Wei Wuxian shoots back unforgivingly. “Even if Wen Ruohan started this war, it doesn’t mean that every single Wen is on board together with him. Choosing your allies properly is one of the tenets in war, but no one ever said that your allies can’t be in your foe’s ranks, right?
Jiang Xichen crosses his arms over his chest, unconvinced.
Wei Wuxian groans. “Oh, come on, Ge! It’s harmless to try. You can still survey the area if you don’t trust his information. And if everything goes well, we can reclaim Yunmeng before the year ends! We can’t possibly let Shijie spend Dong Zhi5 alone, right?”
Jiang Xichen sighs in resignation. “Alright.”
Alright—but only that it is not.
The Jiang Sect Leader does not know exactly what is the cause of the mounting apprehension in him. Perhaps it is how the war appears endless, with no good way for them to beat Wen Ruohan's massive number of troops in one fell swoop, or maybe it's because he feels utterly alone, with his sister still sheltered at Cloud Recesses and Wei Wuxian preparing to head off to Yiling, but the dreams haunting him reach a brand new peak within the next two weeks.
Night after night, Jiang Xichen jerks awake with lingering images flashing before his eyes, but nothing will rival the one tonight with Wei Wuxian's corpse.
Sitting up in bed, Jiang Xichen bites down on his tongue immediately to curb his own screams. His face turns pale, blood draining from it. Countless thorn-covered branches expand endlessly within his numbed throat, rendering him mute and immobile, as the sweet voice of malice continues whispering straight into his vulnerable mind.
He is leaving because you are weak and unsightly.
He calls himself your brother and pretends to be the one that knows you the best, but look! When push comes to shove, he is the first to hightail out! He left you to shoulder this alone!
No one will ever accept you for the way you are.
Accept our resentment fully. Without us. you can't protect anyone. Everyone you care for will die because of your indecisiveness.
Look, even those disciples and friends you have now… They are the ones who left Lotus Pier in the lurch when it was attacked. Aren't they equally as guilty as the Wen-dogs? They all deserve death! Kill them all, everyone should die!
No, they don’t, Jiang Xichen wants to answer, but he realises he can't. He can't, because he doesn't know what the truth is anymore.
Are the voices saying these because they want to mislead him, or are the voices actually him—simply vocalising what he truly thinks deep down?
Distraught at the direction his thoughts are headed, Jiang Xichen clambers over the edge of the bed, scrambling to his feet. However, his knees instantly turn soft, making him fall forward instead. Infinite phantoms of all shapes and sizes dance around the dark edges of his vision, and the Jiang Sect Leader immediately grabs the pitcher of water by his bed and dumps its contents over his head.
The water is freezing cold, long since cooled by the frigid night temperatures, and the liquid soaks into his robes, chilling him down to the bone all at once. Pinpricks of pain sparks across the surface of his skin and Jiang Xichen embraces the sensation, letting it ground him to reality.
"This isn't me, this can't be me," Jiang Xichen tells himself sternly, but it is impossible for him to believe that when dense coils of resentment energy are leaking out and fluctuating with his unstable emotions.
He swallows harshly, his heart thundering in his chest.
The darkness seems to be closing in on him from all corners, pressing down against his lungs and knocking the breath directly out of him. Jiang Xichen sucks in a shallow, stuttered breath and hastily grabs the wisteria pouch by his bedside and scrambles to a corner of the tent.
The jade token inside fires up at once, its carved incantations activating in response to the evil energy clouding him.
"Wanyin," Jiang Xichen exhales shakily, pressing the object against the scar on his chest as he screws his eyes shut before the building tears can fall.
His head is throbbing, his mind is whirling, but the comforting warmth emanating from the token anchors him. It lights up with a faint glow, stripping away each dark thought line by line until what is left is several precious hours of fitful sleep before dawn arrives.
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
The day after Wei Wuxian leaves brings with it an unexpected surprise for Jiang Xichen.
He comes across the sight of Lan Wanyin at the makeshift training grounds of their current war camp, dressed a little differently from usual. He is not in his full set of Gusu Lan attire. Instead, his outermost layer is folded and carefully placed at the perimeter of the arena, leaving him in thinner, fitted robes that distinctly draws attention to his trim waist and the arch of his flexible body, especially when he spins deftly on the balls of his foot and thrusts Sandu out.
Unlike Yunmeng Jiang that's famous for their footwork and vicious precision, Gusu Lan has always been known for their poise and elegance behind their powerful strikes, renowned for the way every move melds easily into the next like a picturesque painting of flowing water. Lan Wanyin embodies that perfectly in this very moment, from the way his ebony tresses whirl around to frame his body right down to the shapes the man draws with his deft fingers and weapon.
Each movement is practiced, precise, perfect.
Each movement is beautiful.
Jiang Xichen swallows dryly, fingers tightening around Shuoyue.
Lan Wanyin does not seem to have noticed his presence yet. He shifts subtly into the next stance, rolling his shoulder back and reeling his dominant hand in. He doesn't continue attacking at once, but instead keeps completely still, Sandu raised and steady—waiting.
Waiting for?
Jiang Xichen lifts a brow curiously, but he doesn't need long to find out because the wind picks up in the next second, bringing with it the familiar rustling of falling leaves.
Lan Wanyin springs right into action then, lashing out with his weapon time after time again, piercing them with deadly accuracy. His footwork, though rough in the making, is a pleasure to watch as he weaves in and out between the dried auburn leaves.
It is almost akin to a dance at this point and Jiang Xichen takes in the sight of burnt sienna against stark white as he silently picks up a small pebble by his feet and mischievously flings it out directly at Lan Wanyin just when the latter slides his foot backward.
It wouldn't be sufficient to cause any form of injury even if it were to connect with him, but Lan Wanyin notices it and dodges with a backflip in the nick of time.
The tip of Sandu catches on the dirt ground with that action, swiping a crescent of dried leaves and soil skywards as the pebble speeds by, past the curve of the small of his back, mere millimetres away from landing a hit.
Jiang Xichen grins, offering the younger man a round of applause. "That was spectacular, Wanyin. I would have never thought that there would be someone who can master Yunmeng Jiang's footwork to this extent through sheer observation alone."
A droplet of sweat trickles down from Lan Wanyin’s temple, trailing past flushed cheeks and the curve of his neck before seeping into his blue lapels. He draws his brows into a deep furrow, swallowing thickly. "Xichen, I… I didn’t mean to..."
“I don’t mind,” Jiang Xichen interjects, still smiling kindly as he makes his way over to Lan Wanyin. “To me, that is inevitable. Sword techniques are something we use and teach freely to disciples, and that’s how and why branch and affiliated Sects are set up—because although our techniques are similar, our ideals have long since diverged. At the end of the day, the only things that define a Sect are its people and their ideology.”
Jiang Xichen comes to a stop before Lan Wanyin. Holding his steel blue gaze, Jiang Xichen then lifts a hand and gingerly tucks a lock of hair behind the silent man’s ear. “Besides, isn’t the person you observed for inspiration… me?”
Lan Wanyin’s breath catches. Jiang Xichen’s grin widens.
“That second last move that you did just now, the one where you slid your foot back. That was something I came up with. The original stance had its centre of gravity too high there, so I modified it. I got into a ton of trouble for it back then, but I guess it’s all worth it if I get to see you make this face.”
Lan Wanyin’s brow twitches, the tips of his ears burning red when Jiang Xichen’s words finally sink in.
“Are you making fun of me?!”
The Jiang Sect Leader shrugs. “Do I look like I’m making fun of you?”
“Jiang Xichen, you—!”
Sandu flashes with a menacing glint as Lan Wanyin slashes it out before himself in a moment of sheer embarrassment. Having expected the outburst, Jiang Xichen blocks the anticipated move easily with Shuoyue’s scabbard and promptly skips several steps backward in the same motion, putting a wide berth between them.
Predictably, Lan Wanyin then charges forward, with Sandu outstretched in front of him. His speed is remarkable, but nothing too difficult to dodge if you knew it was coming.
Jiang Xichen skilfully evades it with a sidestep. He allows Lan Wanyin’s momentum to carry him further than intended, then gently taps the latter's forearm with Shuoyue's hilt.
"Not being able to discern which of your opponent's moves are to lure you in and which is a potential weakness in their guard can cause you your life."
Lan Wanyin clenches his teeth. Jiang Xichen gestures at his feet.
"Also, always keep your feet flat. It gives you more balance and control. As for your body, think of it as an extension of your legs and not the other way round. Position your legs first, and your body will follow."
Catching on to what's happening, Lan Wanyin then slows his attacks, fumbling in his hesitation, but Jiang Xichen presses on dutifully.
He only has this one chance at this after all.
Just this one chance for him to prove to himself that he isn't utterly useless, that the coreless him can still protect someone even if it will no longer be the conventional way anymore.
Jiang Xichen ducks under a wide slicing arc Sandu makes, and uses it as a distraction to round over to Lan Wanyin’s blind spot. Noticing that Jiang Xichen has vanished from his line of sight makes Lan Wanyin whirl around at once, but that action plays straight into Jiang Xichen’s calculations.
He holds Shuoyue up to Lan Wanyin’s neck.
"See, if your fundamentals are solid, there are many things in this world that can be accomplished even without using spiritual energy," Jiang Xichen states simply, but he doesn't know who exactly he is saying this aloud for.
Is it really for Lan Wanyin, or is it for himself?
"But there are things that can only be done with spiritual energy," Lan Wanyin insists, staring up and into Jiang Xichen's eyes earnestly. His lips thin, pursed like he has something to add but ultimately decided not to.
His incomplete sentence hangs adrift in the air between them, words ripping a hole open in Jiang Xichen’s chest and cutting unbelievably deep into his heart. It twinges, clenching and squeezing down on itself, and it feels as if every single miserable wind and bitter rain ever in existence drills straight into it, flooding Jiang Xichen with strong negative emotions.
It's just as we told you. No one will ever accept you for the way you are.
Forget them all. Come with us. Even if the world rejects you, we will never abandon you.
Let's be together forever! Let's be friends!
Don't leave us. It's so dark and cold here. It hurts...
"Indeed," Jiang Xichen relents at long last, slipping his eyes close against the onslaught of whispers penetrating his mind. It is no longer a volume he can ignore, but he isn't ready to give in to them yet. "After all, Wanyin is someone who will cultivate to immortality, right?"
And that is exactly why they would never have a chance together.
From the moment Jiang Xichen had his core melted, from the moment he ceased being a cultivator, he has already doomed all plausible progress on their relationship. Their paths have inevitably diverged. They can never become cultivational partners, can never fight on the same field, can never protect each other’s backs anymore.
They can’t even grow old together, because unlike Lan Wanyin, his life will be as fleeting as can be—transient like an illusion, like a dream, like morning dew upon a leaf.
Jiang Xichen averts his gaze, turning away.
Lan Wanyin blinks. "Xichen, I didn't mean..."
“It’s alright,” Jiang Xichen interrupts hastily. He averts his gaze, taking a half step backward unobtrusively.
Deep down, he knows that Lan Wanyin wants to pursue the issue about his unconventional cultivation method, but doesn't know how to broach the subject. Yet, Jiang Xichen obstinately evades the topic time after time again because talking about it would mean that he has to acknowledge that he lost his golden core, that his slip up was the reason why Yunmeng Jiang fell—and Jiang Xichen would never be ready to admit that aloud, not now, not yet, not ever.
Jiang Xichen clears his throat. “Actually, I have been thinking that we should set off to Jiangling within the next few days. It is one of the outposts that Yunmeng has and claiming it would both make it easier for us to reclaim Lotus Pier and give us a chance to restock on our supplies too.”
Lan Wanyin frowns, deep in thought, and Jiang Xichen takes the silence as consent to continue.
“I know of a secret way through the forest right into Jiangling, so we will split up into five groups. The first team will be the smallest and responsible for sneaking into the outpost and unlocking all four gates for the second to fifth groups to rush in—”
"Who will be leading the first team?"
"Me," Jiang Xichen answers without any ounce of hesitation.
Lan Wanyin grabs his wrist. "It's too dangerous, I'll go instead."
Jiang Xichen chuckles. "Wanyin is such a worrywart. An outpost isn’t that much larger than a supervision office. I’ve done worse.“
He had expected Lan Wanyin to pull away at his callous words, but to his surprise, the latter merely tightens his grip wordlessly. An inexplicable expression flickers across Lan Wanyin’s countenance as he furrows his brows, eyes downcast and lashes seemingly damp from this angle.
“Then at the very least. let me go with you.”
"Trust me. I'll be fine." Jiang Xichen pats Lan Wanyin’s hand and gently pulls his hand out of the latter's grip. "I'll need you to remain with the teams outside just in case anything unexpected happens.”
“But—”
"Please, Wanyin," Jiang Xichen lays a hand down on Lan Wanyin's shoulder, offering him a small smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. "This is the best option we have now."
Lan Wanyin tears his gaze away, bottom lip quivering. He has something he wants to say, something he wants to ask and straighten out, but he decides against it eventually.
"Be careful, Xichen."
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
Jiang Xichen is in love.
He can't pinpoint the exact moment he fell, but the fluttering of his heart whenever he spots Lan Wanyin and the aching in his chest whenever their eyes meet, is undeniably love.
Jiang Xichen has never felt like this for anyone else. He has never been so overwhelmed by something this painful, stifling and suffocating—but precious all the same.
He never had something where he knows he should and must give up but still wants to hold on to stubbornly and fervently. It is like his last lifeline, the last thread of hope that prevents him from sinking into the never-ending abyss, but now...
Jiang Xichen’s condition has started deteriorating faster than what he had expected. With just mere days to go before they arrive at Jiangling, the Jiang Sect Leader realises that meditation in an attempt to curb the debilitating effects of the resentment energy is no longer feasible because the procedural silence leaves him far too vulnerable.
You need power, much more power. Power to protect, to defeat, to win, to rebuild.
Everything lies on your shoulders, Jiang Xichen. You can't let them down. You can't let everyone down, not again.
If you accept us, this entire war will be over in an instant.
Jiang Xichen slips his eyes close, letting the whispers spread through him. It is akin to poison, slowly infiltrating, seeping through and contorting his mind.
Should he accept it? Can he accept it?
What if he accepts it?
Briefly, he remembers the blunt iron sword in the Xuanwu cave, along with the feeling of losing control, the feeling of losing himself—and shudders. His heart thunders in his chest at the prospect, conjuring up numerous possibilities, ones where he successfully controls the energy and restores peace, and others where he succumbs to it and destroys everything.
Jiang Xichen clenches his fist, digging blunt nails into his palm.
Which will it be? What will it be?
"Xichen."
Jiang Xichen snaps back to reality in an instant, cold sweat trickling down his back. There is only one person who calls him that, and that is the very last person he wants to see right now.
He runs a hand tiredly over his face, well aware of how exhausted he probably appears at this moment, if how he feels is anything to go by.
"Xichen?"
Jiang Xichen turns around then, a forced smile upon his lips. "Well well well, I would have never expected to see you out here at this hour, Wanyin. I thought all Lans had to sleep by nine."
"I was on patrol. I just finished my shift when I noticed you."
"I… I couldn't sleep," Jiang Xichen finally admits after a pause the length of a heartbeat, shifting over and patting the empty space beside himself. "I recalled the time after we defeated the Xuanwu. It was the complete opposite then, I was trying so hard not to fall asleep."
Lan Wanyin glances at Jiang Xichen from the corner of his eye, taking in the man's dishevelled state. "Not me. I was trying very hard to sleep."
Jiang Xichen chuckles, the corners of his lips twitching. "Yes, I remember. The esteemed Lan er-gongzi even asked for a song and a bedtime story."
He tenses his body reflexively after saying that, half-expecting Lan Wanyin to pout or get angry at his obvious jibe, but to his surprise, the younger man simply averts his gaze and inhales sharply instead.
"Xichen, about that… the thing about cultivating to immortality, I… I no longer wish to…"
Jiang Xichen’s breath catches.
His heart rate increases, sprinting into a numbing series of thuds against his ribcage. He can imagine Lan Wanyin’s next words—but are they the ones he wants to hear?
What are the words he wants to hear anyway?
Would he be happier knowing that Lan Wanyin would give up his dream of immortality, or would he be happier knowing he wouldn't?
He doesn't want to find out. He is afraid to find out.
"The song," Jiang Xichen interjects hurriedly, his voice slightly louder than usual as he attempts to divert the topic. "I said I'll play it if you composed something."
Lan Wanyin blinks twice, surprised by Jiang Xichen’s sudden change, but relents when he realises the older man doesn't wish to backtrack to their earlier subject.
"I have not composed anything satisfactory yet." Lan Wanyin’s voice is soft, almost apologetic. “There is just too much I want to convey. I am unable to even put those experiences and emotions properly to words, let alone into music.”
Jiang Xichen lets out a long exhale before smiling, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear as the night breeze tousles the loose dark strands. "You don't have to focus on expressing the past and your experiences through music. Sometimes, it can just represent your hopes, or perhaps, a distant dream that you wish would come true someday."
The full moon peeks out from behind a cloud then, casting a silvery glow on them and creating a halo of scattered light about Lan Wanyin that makes his expression appear much softer than how it usually is.
Jiang Xichen’s smile grows wider, softer.
"Look, Wanyin, the moon is really beautiful today. Doesn't it remind you a little of the time we first met?" Jiang Xichen glances at the quiet man from the corner of his eye. He is overwhelmed with the urge to pull him into a hug, but doesn't act on it. "Do you remember?"
"How could I ever forget?" Lan Wanyin’s voice is soft and stern, but there is an unmistakable hint of a smile to his words and a tenderness to the way his eyelids flutter close.
Jiang Xichen averts his face, turning back to the velvety darkness. "Those times were so much fun. Mending the bows, reorganising the Library Pavilion, sneaking off to the Cold Springs, and even exploring the back mountains."
"And the spicy scallion pancakes."
"And the spicy scallion pancakes," Jiang Xichen agrees, only to snort when he recalls Lan Wanyin’s uncanny outburst back then. "It'll be perfect if we had some right now."
Lan Wanyin shoots him a look.
Jiang Xichen laughs harder at that, until tears form at the corners of his eyes and his sides start aching. He stops immediately then, all traces of mirth vanishing from his countenance suddenly.
"Wanyin, do you think we can ever go back to those times?"
Lan Wanyin blinks at the unexpected question. He pauses for the length of three heartbeats, completely silent as he ponders and chooses his words carefully. "What we have lost will never come back, but after this war is over, I am sure some sort of normalcy will be re-established."
Jiang Xichen cracks a smile.
Behind him, a plum blossom branch6 breaks and falls onto the ground, shattering to pieces.
"Thank you."
Notes:
1. All the locations used (Ganquan, Kuizhou, etc) are based off of this one map that I got from MDZS' wiki Back
2. There are actually different incense sizes that are used to demarcate different amounts of time, but the one I was going here is about an hour, which makes the amount of time Lan Wanyin is able to hold his skill for, 30 minutes. Back
3. To live unfettered by worldly desires (Bichen) and to be above the three poisons (Sandu), where the three poisons are greed, ignorance and hatred. These definitions can also be found on ExR's translation in case any of you are wondering. Back
4. One shichen (時辰) is roughly about two hours. Time used to be marked in two hour blocks back then. Back
5. Dongzhi (冬至): Winter Solstice. This is sometime in late December, where families gather to eat tangyuan (dumplings) Back
6. Plum blossoms symbolize perseverance and hope, as well as beauty, purity, and the transitoriness of life. In Confucianism, it also stands for the principles and values of virtue. Since the turn of the 20th century, it has also been used as a metaphor to symbolize revolutionary struggle. Back
***
I will apologise in advance for any mistakes in weather information because I do want certain aesthetics in certain scenes to add feels, so I might have to compromise on certain areas (e.g. letting winter arrive a little earlier or giving certain regions with historically less snowfall more snow).
The end notes scene here is showcases how WWX and LWY both cared for JXC in their own ways! LWY chose to return to CR for several months after he spotted JXC taking revenge, hoping to find more information about resentment energy but to no avail. WWX also suspects something is up but chooses to wait for JXC to open up himself, but eventually also decides he has to do something instead of just waiting.
“Yiling?” Lan Wanyin raises a brow as Wei Wuxian pushes by him, rushing to gather his things for his impending detour. "Why now?"
Wei Wuxian pauses mid-action. "Lan-xiong, you have seen how Ge is like lately, right? He has been like this ever since he went off alone for that one week after you left. There's definitely something wrong but he isn't telling me anything. The old records by past practitioners you dug up at Cloud Recesses over the last few months don't have anything either. So our next resort is to ask someone else well-versed in the field."
Lan Wanyin narrows his eyes as the underlying implication Wei Wuxian is making clicks in his mind. "The renowned physician, Wen Qing?"
“She is essentially our last hope to find out what could possibly be wrong. Besides, it might make it easier for Ge to open up to you if I’m not around.”
“Why would he tell me something that he wouldn’t even mention to you? Both of you are from the same Sect.”
Wei Wuxian’s lips lift into a teasing crescent. “Hm? Is that a fresh pot of vinegar I smell?”
Lan Wanyin rolls his eyes. Wei Wuxian chuckles and gives the other man several hearty slaps on his back.
“Well, there will always be certain things you can’t reveal to someone from the same Sect, and even more things you can’t bring yourself to tell someone you are close to because you know just how they would feel and react,” Wei Wuxian replies with a wistful smile as he slings his luggage over his shoulder and knots the fabric ends. “Trust me, Ge cherishes you more than you would ever know. Take good care of him.”
Chapter 20: Retribution II
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
<FLASHBACK>
The air around Jiangling is cold and unnaturally heavy, hanging almost oppressively over Lan Wanyin like a gloomy dark cloud.
He had parted ways with Jiang Xichen quite a while ago, and although Lan Wanyin has forced the man to describe the intricacies of his plan down to the very last detail, he is still unable to brush aside the sense of foreboding accumulating at the pit of his stomach.
It is not that he doesn't trust Jiang Xichen’s prowess, but he simply cannot stop worrying... because he is in love.
He had always been in love with Jiang Xichen as far back as he can remember, although he hadn’t always known what this feeling was, at least not when he was still an easily abashed youth back at Cloud Recesses. He had initially thought that all romance would be exactly like how it is depicted in fiction—a beautiful and delicate mix of warmth and fuzziness in his chest, as well as butterflies in his stomach—not feelings of frustration, irritation, and a contradicting urge to both get the guy off his back while wanting to keep him close at the same time.
The period he spent alone in seclusion back then helped him come to terms with his feelings, helped him understand that what he feels for Jiang Xichen isn't solely adoration or admiration.
However, knowing is not always necessarily for the better.
Knowing his feelings had simply made him want to be relied on all the more, and through that, Lan Wanyin learns the impossibility of this small, simple dream.
After all, he is younger, weaker, and of a different sect.
Try as he might, the first person Jiang Xichen counts on to help shoulder his burdens will never be him. The person Jiang Xichen trusts to protect his back will never be him either.
Even if Lan Wanyin had made up his mind to stand by Jiang Xichen, he can't fulfil it. Even if the man were to be seated right beside him at this very moment, there would still be an unfathomable distance between them that seems like a thousand miles.
It is a distance he had been trying desperately to close but each time he thinks he had gotten a little closer, Jiang Xichen would simply end up just drifting further out of reach.
Lan Wanyin frowns, his breath leaving him in the form of a lengthy sigh. He takes a half step back, raising his gaze to stare solemnly at the closed wooden gate that is separating him from Jiang Xichen.
He is worried; heart twinging and hands clammy. There is nothing he wants more than to be on the frontlines with the other man, fighting alongside him, protecting him.
But alas, all he can do now is wait.
Meanwhile, Jiang Xichen and nine other fellow disciples have just arrived inside the outpost located at Jiangling.
The secret passageway they had used was by no means a shortcut, and the detour they had taken by squeezing through trenches and crawling through cramped paths along with the efforts from the scouts monitoring Jiangling for days on end, have all paid off when the ten men dressed in dark clothing manage to find their way in completely undetected.
Wearing something of this shade and trying to be stealthy is definitely something he can’t see Lan Wanyin doing, Jiang Xichen muses as he clambers up and through the secret hatch in the storehouse.
It is a new moon night, with the only sources of light being the mounted torches lit by fire talismans but even their flames are flickering, casting eerie elongated shadows along the walls as a patrol team full of yawning youths marches by. They are decked out in layers of fine silk, yet the way they handle their swords easily give away their inexperience.
Jiang Xichen makes a face.
Back when Yunmeng Jiang was at the helm in Lotus Pier, they always had an issue with the younger generation choosing to move to larger cities. However, now it seems that Jiangling has simply become a babysitting facility for young masters of mediocre abilities.
How truly ironic.
“Sect Leader,” one of his subordinates signs. “Shall we split up here?”
Jiang Xichen returns his question with a curt nod and the nine men immediately regroup themselves into four separate teams, ready to head down to unlock their respective gates. Only Jiang Xichen remains stationary in the vicinity of the rundown shack, trying to find a way into the main building.
He had obviously never mentioned this part of his plan to Lan Wanyin before but he had always intended to split up from the rest to find and take the highest ranking personnel hostage. Not only would that kill the morale of all the soldiers instantly, they would also be able to staunch any possible information leakages and reports of the attack to the Wens at Lotus Pier.
It is a calculated and worthwhile risk to take.
‘But is it really?’ A voice that strangely resembles Lan Wanyin’s sounds in Jiang Xichen’s thoughts in response, chastising him. Jiang Xichen smiles sheepishly, an odd sense of fondness warming him up as he slinks into the shadows between two buildings and waits for a second patrolling line of equally useless-looking youths to pass him by.
There is an astoundingly few number of guards in Jiangling itself, and even the ones stationed on the lookout posts above each gate are far and few in between, which struck Jiang Xichen as odd until he flips himself up onto the roof of the main building and stares down through a slit between the ceramic tiles.
The bedroom directly under him is filled with lavish furniture and decorated with luxurious drapery. There are at least five women in there, all of them posing coquettishly, trying to twist every single part of their body that can be bent while calling out in sickeningly sweet dulcet tones.
The variation in their choices for perfume all mix into a cloying floral aroma carrying an fishy undertone that makes Jiang Xichen nauseous when he catches a whiff wafting up through the slit, but nothing can make him recoil in disgust more than the sight of a greasy blindfolded middle-aged man laughing like a kid playing catch as he chases an under-dressed woman around the partition in the middle of the room—the splitting image of a plump wriggling eel squirming after a snake on legs.
How indecent!
Jiang Xichen flinches, feeling the need to gouge his eyes out after being subjected to such a scarring sight.
He comes to the immediate understanding that the lack of security in Jiangling is not because there aren’t enough Wen troops to go around or for any form of strategy, but rather, simply due to the Commandant himself being more interested in decadence and debauchery over military might.
But that understanding alone is useless, and it merely leaves Jiang Xichen feeling utterly helpless as he remains pressed up against the roof tiles, unable to decide if he should barge in and sully his eyes further or wait discreetly until they are done.
Fortunately for him, the dilemma doesn't last long because there is an ear-splitting scream that comes from the direction of the northern gates, followed shortly by a loud blaring horn.
It is the alarm system from the lookouts to signal an enemy attack and Jiang Xichen leaps to his feet at once, contemplating calling for a retreat because he knows they have messed up.
All four gates around the perimeter of Jiangling creak open in the next moment, but it is already too late because a gong goes off almost on cue, followed by another further in the distance, then another—and Jiang Xichen knows that it is only a matter of time before news of their attack is relayed all the way down to Lotus Pier.
If only he still had spiritual energy!
Jiang Xichen tightens his grip on Shuoyue, the skin over his knuckles paling. The ugly feelings of desperation rear its head inside him, and the negative emotions awaken the resentment energy that had been lying dormant.
The malicious aura surges forth all at once, forming a thick cloud of black mist that snakes its way round his arm and down to his digits before shooting out with a deadly accuracy, tearing towards the fourth soldier in the relay line at breakneck speed.
Alarmed, Jiang Xichen quickly attempts to reel the energy back but to no avail. Instead of obeying, the voices condense into a crescendo instead, with each line being much louder than the previous. The Jiang Sect Leader recoils, stumbling a step backwards just in time to feel the wind trail from an arrow that whizzes by him.
It is shot with tremendous skill and unwavering precision, penetrating through layers of collated resentment energy before piercing into the shoulder of the fourth soldier.
Jiang Xichen hears before he sees it. He recognises the familiarity in the spiritual energy enveloping the arrowhead before he even notices the archer himself.
Wanyin.
The lingering remnants of spiritual energy on the fingertips of Lan Wanyin's right hand flickers, casting one half of his countenance in an icy blue tinge while the other remains shrouded in dark shadows.
There is no moonlight tonight, but the lack of a contrasting light source only serves to accentuate his distinct features and posture highlighted by the reflected glow from his white robes.
Jiang Xichen draws in a shallow breath, an almost nostalgic sense of calm washing over him instantly. However, he does not have much time to indulge in the magic of the moment because the tipsy red-faced Commandant bursts out onto the balcony almost immediately after, bellowing at the top of his lungs.
"What's all this ruckus about?! Didn't I already tell all of you imbeciles countless times to keep it down?! You—"
The Commandant trails off mid-sentence, blinking confusedly as he glances from the four opened gates and armed purple Jiang forces to the sight of Jiang Xichen perched on his roof and Lan Wanyin’s silhouette on the lookout tower in the distance, as the young man nonchalantly reaches for a new arrow.
"E-E-E-Enemy atta—!"
The heel of Jiang Xichen's boot connects with the crown of the man’s skull before he has the chance to complete his sentence. Using the distraction garnered from that, Jiang Xichen then quickly flips the upper half of body down from the roof as well.
He presses the flat of his palms atop the railing and uses them as leverage as he lithely twists his supple body mid-air and follows up with a vicious hook kick to the Commandant's cheek that sends him sprawling off the balcony.
The women in the room gasp, rushing out to peer down at the middle-aged man groaning in pain on the ground floor.
Meanwhile, Jiang Xichen lands nimbly on his feet. He turns away, dusting his hands off and is all prepared to leave when he notices the group of women staring over at him with horrified expressions. Their shoulders shake, trembling as if in great fear, and Jiang Xichen promptly puts on his largest grin reflexively and holds a forefinger up to his lips.
He winks.
The women collectively gasp, swooning.
Lan Wanyin snaps the arrow in his hand into two.
"L-Lan… er-gongzi..." one of the disciples in the team Lan Wanyin is placed in charge of doubles over, panting raggedly.
While Lan Wanyin had easily flown his way up to the top of the lookout tower the very moment he entered through the gates, this disciple with a lower cultivation was not nearly as efficient. He took nearly two full minutes of clumsy clambering to reach the peak—only to have a strangely furious Lan Wanyin shove a Wen bow against his chest before said man jumps off the tower and joins the fray below.
Every strike the fuming Lan Wanyin makes seems to have an inexplicable sense of fury behind it. It is almost as if the young Lan cultivator is taking his anger out on those poor Wens, and it isn’t until the disciple raises his gaze and spots his Sect Leader smiling at a group of women that he finally understands why.
He shudders, grimacing. The matters of the heart are such a pain in the ass!
But the larger pain in the ass comes in the form of a humanoid shaped dumbass swathed in dark fabric, who is currently hopping down from the balcony and swiftly making his way towards the white-clothed man.
"Oh? Wanyin, your footwork got so much lighter! As expected of my studious disci– Wait, why is your face so dark?"
The disciple's jaw drops.
Lan Wanyin turns to face Jiang Xichen with a withering glare, the glower so menacing that it sends chills running down the length of the latter's spine.
"W-Wanyin? What's wrong?" Jiang Xichen questions, and is taken completely by surprise when Lan Wanyin presses a hand to his chest and roughly shoves him away.
Jiang Xichen stumbles several steps backwards, flabbergasted. He opens his mouth, about to protest when a Wen cultivator runs his sword through the space where Jiang Xichen was at.
The Jiang Sect Leader ducks down instinctively, his body running on auto as he swipes the assailant's legs out from under him. At the same time, he strikes his sheathed weapon up at an angle, disarming the cultivator in one fluid motion while Lan Wanyin slashes out with Sandu in a diagonal arc. The blade cleaves the falling Wen cultivator's arm cleanly off at the shoulder, sending the amputated limb flying off along with a crimson crescent of blood.
The Wen cultivator lands on his stomach, howling in pain.
Jiang Xichen thrusts Shuoyue downwards next, smashing the end of the scabbard into a point on the injured man's nape and knocks him out instantly.
"Wanyin, about me confronting the Commandant, that's because—"
"I am not unfamiliar with your ways. I had expected you to pull off something like this. That's why I got onto the lookout tower."
Jiang Xichen raises a brow. "Then why are you still mad?"
Lan Wanyin shoots him a pointed look.
Jiang Xichen blinks twice in response.
Lan Wanyin sighs. "Xichen, you are really—"
"I-Incoming fire arrows!" the Jiang disciple on the lookout tower hollers and everyone inside Jiangling snap their gazes up instantly, only to witness the horrifying sight of several hundred arrows approaching the tiny outpost.
They speed forward in an arched curve, the array etched on each metal arrowhead gleaming ominously before every single one of them erupt into flames all at once.
Red sparks across the sky, filling the velvety darkness with an immense wave of glimmering scarlet.
"Quick, take cover!" Jiang Xichen commands.
He hastily grabs Lan Wanyin by the wrist and drags the younger man along to duck behind a building just as the rain of fiery arrows embed themselves into the ground. They explode instantly upon contact, the impact sending a cloud of dust, gravel, and both Jiang and Wen disciples alike up into the air.
The resulting fire from the mass explosions lick up the pillars of the wooden buildings, emitting billowing columns of smoke up into the sky to contrast with the sight of charred body parts tumbling heavily back onto the ground.
Everyone swallows dryly in their hiding spots, waiting with bated breaths for the smoke to clear sufficiently to return part of their visibility. However, what they find waiting for them is a formally dressed man from the Wen Sect standing pristinely on his sword, along with a large number of archers behind him.
Jiang Xichen unwittingly tightens his grip around Lan Wanyin’s wrist. The stab wound on his chest throbs. “He is a Wen stationed at Lotus Pier. The General's right hand man. I met him once.”
Lan Wanyin frowns but does not withdraw his arm. “But I stopped the lookout alarm relay system. There should be no way for Lotus Pier to notice this attack this soon. Besides, even if they do, it’s unlikely for them to be able to gather this many men and weapons within such a short period of time.”
“There is another possibility,” Jiang Xichen admits with a frown, glancing around the area and observing all the Jiang disciples. However, none of them appear to be faking their injuries. He turns his gaze back up to the Wen. “But now isn’t the time to get to the bottom of that yet.”
Jiang Xichen sucks in a deep breath, peering from the battalion in the air to the sparse Wen cultivators on ground.
If they were to step out of their hiding spots and make a run for it together, there is no doubt that the battalion would take them down before they even make it past the gates. The only other way out is through the secret passageway, but it is narrow and winding, and would take too much time to get the remaining Jiang troops through.
Besides, if the smoke from the explosion gets into the passageway, none of them would survive then.
As such, the only way out of this with the smallest number of casualties is...
Jiang Xichen unfurls his fingers. "I will be—"
"I will be the decoy."
Jiang Xichen stares at Lan Wanyin incredulously. "Don’t be ridiculous. The one the Wens are after is me. There is absolutely no need for you to get involved and put yourself in more danger because of me."
"I am already involved," Lan Wanyin replies coolly, backhandedly grabbing Jiang Xichen’s wrist. He holds the older man’s gaze steadily for a long moment before continuing his sentence. "There is no way back for me now.”
Jiang Xichen’s breath catches. His heart rate quickens at Lan Wanyin's words and expression, making his heart feel so full as if it might burst at any moment. He wants nothing more than to embrace Lan Wanyin as tightly as he can right now—and he does exactly that, pressing Lan Wanyin’s face into his chest.
The Lan cultivator's grip loosens in surprise and the Jiang Sect Leader seizes the opportunity and rolls off to the side, successfully hiding them both behind another building just in time as a second wave of exploding arrows rains onto Jiangling.
It sends a huge portion of the outpost, including their previous hiding spot, up in flames.
"Listen to me, Wanyin. That Wen guy is planning to raze this entire place to the ground. What we have to do now is to get all the disciples to split up into smaller groups and run out of Jiangling in different directions. We can thin out their attacks this way but unfortunately, the enemy has fire arrows, so even getting to the forest line might not guarantee our safety. You have to make sure everyone keeps running."
Lan Wanyin furrows his brows. "I know what you are planning. I won't let you fight a battalion alone, Xichen."
Jiang Xichen chuckles, stepping away from Lan Wanyin.
"You underestimate me, Wanyin. There is no way I will lose."
"But—"
Jiang Xichen's eyes glow a bright gold. Malicious energy seeps out from his very fingertips, condensing into tendrils that twine around his right hand to forcefully shift Zidian from its ring to whip form. The heirloom sizzles, releasing periodic sparks of purple that alerts the Wens to his position.
A third wave of flaming arrows descends toward them but Jiang Xichen sends a good half of them flying back with a simple flick of his wrist.
"Leave. Your presence here is a mere burden, Lan Wanyin."
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
"Who is the one that let this brat in?" Wen Qing thunders as she glares at the unwanted guest who is currently lying sprawled out on the floor with countless scrolls strewn open haphazardly around himself. "I allowed you to stay a few days back when A-Ning brought you over from Lotus Pier because you were injured and he mentioned he was indebted to you. But there is no reason for you to this time. Get out."
Wei Wuxian leaps to his feet with a sheepish smile.
"Don't say such cold things, Qing-jie. I am investigating the usage of resentment energy, but even the Library Pavilion had limited information about it. Coming here is my last resort."
His accomplice, Wen Ning, emerges from a corner of the study with a sheepish expression and promptly comes to his rescue. “I was the one who led Wei-gongzi inside. No one else has spotted him yet.”
"Yet," Wen Qing repeats monotonously before diverting her attention back to Wei Wuxian. "First and foremost, how would you expect me to have information that you couldn't find in the Library Pavilion?"
"Because the Library Pavilion only records facts and methodologies, but those do not come in handy when tackling a novel concept. Instead, I need your medical knowledge and ideas of any potential unproven hypotheses."
Wen Qing arches a brow. "What's the concept?"
Wei Wuxian sucks in a deep breath. "Simply put, I want to know if there is a way for a cultivator to wield resentment energy using their own bodies."
Wen Qing snorts. "Impossible. Firstly, it is common knowledge that resentment energy requires a medium to accumulate in. Yet, the reason why we don't hear of living humans becoming tainted is because even non-cultivators are able to dispel naturally accumulated negative energy to a certain extent, let alone cultivators where the basis of cultivation is achieved by purifying and expelling the corrupted energy."
"But that's only if we are talking about traditional cultivation methods, right?"
Wen Qing crosses her arms. "My point earlier still stands. There is no way resentment energy can accumulate inside living humans. Our bodies are simply not made for it. Even Qinghe Nie Sect who has been cultivating with resentment energy for generations has not found a way around it, and are still using their sabres as a medium."
Wei Wuxian narrows his eyes, deep in thought.
Could it be that the wisteria pouch and whatever was inside it was not actually a gift from Lan Wanyin, but a medium? Besides, once he begins seeing Jiang Xichen's shift in cultivation as a similar method to the Nie's, he also starts finding more parallels, such as the worsening temperaments.
Perhaps the more frequent outbursts in Jiang Xichen’s case is because he commands a larger amount of resentment energy?
Wei Wuxian scratches at his chin absentmindedly. "But what if, hypothetically, if there is a way to put resentment energy directly into a human, what would be the consequences?"
"There is only one: it will gradually but surely be expelled from the human body, unless you find a way to stop the body from performing just that."
"Or there is the opposite side to this theory, Qing-jie. We can also imbue the individual with such a huge amount of resentment energy that their bodies can't clear it out efficiently."
"Are you trying to kill them?!" Wen Qing snaps, her tone sharp. "Spiritual energy is yang and resentment energy is yin. Putting two opposing forces in the same vessel would just destroy it!"
"But if it doesn't break the vessel then wouldn't it give birth to a new and novel cultivation method?"
"Ridiculous! The resentment energy from a beast is incompatible with our human bodies. The way the qi circulates might be completely different as well. If you insist on it, then at the very least, you need to ensure that the source material is the same!"
"Human corpses," Wen Ning supplies weakly.
The realisation shocks Wen Qing into complete silence.
Perhaps it was due to her position as a physician, but she had never once considered the possibility of using humans this way.
The mere thought both intrigues and frightens her, because if the Qinghe Nie Sect already faces the backlash of a shortened lifespan from using beasts, how much worse will using the more volatile human resentment energy be like?
How will the cultivation even happen?
The concept of resentment energy is even more abstract than that of a golden core. Unlike the latter, there is nothing to instruct and aid the formation of such malicious energy. How do you ensure a constant supply of something you don't even know how to create in the first place?
The Nie Sect takes advantage of dark places full of negative energy like an abattoir, but there is hardly an equivalent for humans.
Unless...
Knock knock.
Two loud raps sound from the door, interrupting Wen Qing's train of thought. Wei Wuxian immediately ducks into the space between two cabinets, pressing his body flush against the wall.
Wen Qing glances at the shadow, her expression tense. "Who is it? I have mentioned previously that I do not like to be disturbed when I am in my study. If there is nothing of importance, you can come back again later."
The shadow bends forward in a salute. "General Wen from Yunmeng has sent a letter requesting for reinforcements."
Wen Qing reluctantly opens the door. "Go on."
"He has received information from a reliable source that the Jiangs are planning to attack Jiangling within the next few days. Our plan is to use Jiangling as bait to lure them in then eradicate the entire outpost. Although small sacrifices cannot be avoided, the General wishes to borrow your medical expertise in the event that we secure any survivors in the aftermath."
A vase falls over at the far end of the study, smashing into pieces.
"A-Ning, I told you to tidy up the study, not to knock things over every other minute!" Wen Qing chastises. As if on cue, her dirt-covered younger brother steps out from behind the curtains with a troubled smile on his face. She sighs. "Clean yourself up then go pass down my word that we are to prepare to leave for Jiangling."
Wen Qing waits until both Wen Ning and the man are completely out of sight before she slams the door to her study shut. She turns to Wei Wuxian who is currently trying to sneak out through a window and yanks him back by his collar.
"Are you insane? It's broad daylight right now! If you get caught out there, you would implicate my entire clan!"
"I can't possibly wait until night when I know that my brother might be in danger!"
Wen Qing's expression visibly softens at the word 'brother'.
"Calm down. A-Ning will bring a change of clothes over for you later. If you can bring yourself to put on the robes of Qishan Wen, then we can leave together for Jiangling within several hours."
Wei Wuxian clenches his shaking hands into fists and gives a curt nod of his head.
Similar to Jiang Xichen, there is nothing he wouldn't be willing to give up for those he calls family—be it his pride, his honour, or his life.
Together with the Wen siblings and their handpicked men, Wei Wuxian tears down the distance between Yiling and Jiangling on horseback with barely any rest time for the next two days straight.
However, unbeknownst to them, the General had never planned on allowing them to arrive on time.
He had never been a huge fan of Wen Qing’s arrogance in abiding by her naïve values of not killing even in war, and had explicitly planned it such that she would only arrive in time to see the aftermath. Wen Qing had seen through the sly weasel’s scheme but decided to head down to Jiangling anyway because not going would be akin to a silent concede.
Only Wei Wuxian, who had no inkling of the hidden politics in the Wen Sect, is genuinely shocked to find Jiangling already in a complete state of disarray when they draw close to the outpost.
He swallows dryly at the appalling sight of red flames engulfing nearly the entire perimeter, sending up columns of billowing grey smoke which are stark against the inky black sky. Purple dots line the distance as well, spilling forth like a ceaseless wave in every single direction as the Jiang disciples scramble forward and away from Jiangling as fast as their injured legs could carry them.
Wei Wuxian leaps off his horse and hastily grabs the closest Jiang disciple running by. "What happened in Jiangling?!"
The disciple gives a loud blood-curdling shriek upon noticing the trademark swirling crimson motifs lining the edges of Wei Wuxian’s sleeves. "Please don't kill me! Don't kill me!"
"Look carefully, it's me!" Wei Wuxian exclaims, grabbing the cowering disciple by his lapels and giving him a good hard shake. The disciple blinks several times, taking several seconds to connect the familiar voice to the face of the person before himself.
"W-Wei-shixiong? Why are you in Qishan Wen's robes…?"
"A disguise, but that's not important right now. Tell me, what happened over in Jiangling? Where is the Sect Leader?"
It is incredibly rare to see Wei Wuxian this serious, and the overarching grave mood finally drives the gravity of the situation home to the disciple.
He instantly clings to his senior and bursts into tears.
"The plan… Sect Leader's plan was going well, but there was an unexpected ambush! A huge group of Wens appeared out of nowhere suddenly, t-then everything exploded… and… and… the Sect Leader stayed behind for us to escape!"
Wei Wuxian's blood turns cold.
This is the plan that was mentioned in the Wen General's letter—luring the Jiangs in then eradicating Jiangling altogether. It has already been executed partway but it might not be too late yet. Jiangling is still right there. They might still have a chance to find and get Jiang Xichen out in time!
A newfound resolve twinkles in the depths of Wei Wuxian’s obsidian eyes. "Where is Lan-xiong?"
"L-Lan er-gongzi told us to continue running and went back by himself!"
As if on cue, a loud sound comes from the direction of Jiangling, fulminating around the surroundings like a rumble of thunder. Dark sprawling tendrils lined with bright flashes of violet lightning burst forth from within the gates, all of them reaching straight up toward the sky in a frenzied race, as if embodying a cry of utmost anguish.
It stops all of a sudden, seemingly freezing mid-action, and lingers unmoving for a long pregnant silence before the entire ensemble explodes outward.
Wei Wuxian ducks with his sleeve raised for cover at once, fingers clenching around Suibian as a huge gust of searing hot wind blasts through the forest, sending shrapnel whistling by the bare trees.
Wen Qing rides by on her horse, paying absolutely no regard to the projectiles as she grabs the latter by the elbow and drags him up the back of her horse.
“What are you waiting for? Let’s go!”
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
"Sect Leader Jiang is so magnanimous. Or perhaps 'foolish' is a better word?" The Wen leader of the battalion snidely comments in a patronizing tone as he peers down at Jiang Xichen, a cruel smirk donning his lips. "Why else would you sacrifice yourself to let the traitors in your midst escape?"
Jiang Xichen scoffs, Zidian sizzling in his right hand. "And your General must be a savage barbarian. Why else would he sacrifice a perfectly loyal Commandant?"
"Because being useless is a crime."
"Oh?" Jiang Xichen raises a brow at the sneering Wen. "You must be a very sinful man then."
The Wen's eye twitches, the tips of his ears flushing a light pink from the insult. "To think that you of all people would say that. What would that make you, who was stabbed in the chest by this useless person?"
Jiang Xichen returns the statement with a good-natured smile and shrug. "A much better and classier man than one who would gloat endlessly about being promoted after stabbing a defenceless person, of course."
"Well, if I could stab you once, I can very well do it again!" The Wen leader roars, seemingly having lost all of his composure after the repeated taunts. He leaps off and charges down toward Jiang Xichen immediately, his sword poised to kill.
However, that is simply playing right into Jiang Xichen's hand.
Anger constricts one's rational mind and simplifies their thought processes, resulting in movements which are fuelled by wrath becoming easily predictable. Coupling that with the detrimental loss of his aerial advantage merely restricts the Wen leader's plausible motions and makes them easier to read.
Jiang Xichen sidesteps the first three blows with practiced ease, intentionally choosing the simplest footwork and the most callous of words in order to anger the Wen leader further.
"Trying to stab me again? What, could it be that you are gunning for another promotion? Don't they say that the tallest trees are always the first to face the wrath of the wind? 1 Are you not afraid that you are climbing up the ranks too fast?"
"Afraid?" the Wen leader scoffs, his expression twisting into one of acute disdain. "The only thing I would ever fear is turning out to be a nobody in this lifetime!"
He lunges out with his blade along with those words, swiping it down in a massive arc that cuts through the smoke in a brilliant white flash. Jiang Xichen had anticipated the attack, but the sheer power behind the blow still sends him stumbling several steps backward and he is forced to counter it with Zidian.
The usage of resentment energy in that very instant starts another stream of whispers. They conjoin at the back of his ear to form an unbearable itch that throws him off his rhythm completely, and the Jiang Xichen finds himself falling short of fending off the next attack.
The tip of the Wen leader's sword slices into his arm as a result, tearing into flesh and ripping a long deep gash from his elbow down to his wrist that renders his arm instantly immobile. Blood gushes out at once, dyeing the fabric a darker shade, but the Jiang Sect Leader does not even falter.
Instead, he tucks Shuoyue into the back of his waistbelt, keeping the weapon strapped securely to himself, then nonchalantly tosses Zidian over to his left hand as though the debilitating injury on his dominant arm was of no particular inconvenience.
"Good effort," Jiang Xichen laughs scornfully, casting a brief glance at his injury. "But unfortunately, that was more of a scratch than a stab. You'd have to try much harder."
"Not very much harder apparently, seeing how slow your reflexes became after losing your core."
The Wen leader substantiates his observation with a well-timed strike that forces Jiang Xichen further backwards into the alley, effectively cornering the latter. He then sends his sword whizzing out with an incantation, drawing a huge half-moon horizontally at the height of their chests.
Jiang Xichen lashes the ground with Zidian, using the force generated by the wave of dark energy to propel his body up into the air. Swiftly, the Sect Leader kicks the sides of the brick wall, running up the narrow pathway and flips himself nimbly over the Wen leader to dodge the incoming strike.
Silvery white spiritual energy gushes forward and crashes against the empty end of the alleyway, but that is the least of the Wen leader’s current concerns. Jiang Xichen’s dodge has completely turned the tables, leaving him now at an utter disadvantage, and the man snarls, fury twisting his facial expression into something horrid.
The flickering orange flames from the torches accentuates the contours of the Wen leader's face, making him appear at least ten times more menacing.
However, the Jiang Sect Leader merely chuckles, unfazed. “Why don’t you give up already? With just a simple flick of my wrist, I can take your life right now."
“You are sorely mistaken if you think that I got up to my current position with cowardice. I told you earlier, didn't I? There is nothing I fear more than remaining as a mere ordinary person, and that includes death."
Jiang Xichen’s eyes widen at the implication behind those words but he doesn't manage to react in time before it is too late.
"Fire!" the Wen leader hollers, his voice cracking, and the line of archers above them swiftly release their notched arrows upon command. The weapons speed forward in a straight line, closing in upon the two men at breakneck speed.
Jiang Xichen promptly drags out a blast of resentment energy, sending it skywards in an attempt to change the trajectory of the incoming arrows. He successfully repels a good portion of them. However, the few that manage to penetrate through the black mass scrape viciously past Jiang Xichen’s cheek and limbs before embedding themselves into the walls of the alleyway.
Scarlet spills from a particularly deep gash on his right thigh.
Jiang Xichen grimaces from the searing pain, but he does not have the time to care for his wounds at this very moment—not yet, because the exploding arrows release a gust of scalding hot air that scorches the surrounding ground dark with soot all at once.
Projectiles tear into him from a dozen different places, some of them lodged in his flesh while others leave behind long lacerations.
Jiang Xichen whirls around on his injured leg, searching through the cloud of dust for any traces of the Wen leader, only to catch a brief glimpse of the unscathed man before he swoops forward and impales Jiang Xichen right through his left shoulder.
"There. That's the stab you were waiting for."
The tone of the Wen leader's voice is cold against the shell of Jiang Xichen's ear. Grinning maliciously, he then deals a vicious kick right to the centre of Jiang Xichen's chest. The force brutally forces the latter off the sword, and the man sprawls backwards unceremoniously, his back meeting the dirt ground with a loud thump.
Blood gushes out from Jiang Xichen’s open wounds. Zidian slips from his limp grasp.
"Again!" the Wen leader yells.
A sharp twang from countless bowstrings ring out in unison. Arrows clad in spiritual energy fly forth, piercing through the wind. Their arrays gleam in the moonless sky, forming a beautiful sea of shimmering glitter as they zero in on the unarmed Sect Leader.
Is this it? Is this his end?
Jiang Xichen narrows his eyes, raising an arm up to his face.
The control of the malicious energy over his mind fluctuates along with his emotions, tingling at his extremities, sparking on his fingertips, and whispering deep into his adrenaline-driven mind.
Accept us. You need our power, or everyone will die again.
The heat from the fire arrows brushes against his skin, fanning past it, and forcefully drags up memories that continue keeping Jiang Xichen caged in the past. He recoils, but the voices do not stop.
Accept us.
A bolt of bright blue rains down from above, forming an impenetrable protective shield between the arrows and the fallen man just in the nick of time. Numerous explosions bombard the barrier, leaving behind tiny tongues of flames that lick across the emerging webbed cracks along its blue surface.
Jiang Xichen whips his gaze up to his saviour. He spots a blurry silhouette balanced atop a sword in the distance, but he doesn’t need to clearly see the white-clothed stranger’s face to recognise who he is.
After all, there is only one Lan cultivator in this entire world who would do this for him.
"Wanyin," Jiang Xichen says, his voice barely louder than a terse whisper. His tone is one of relief and joy, but the feeling culminating in his gut is one of dread.
Meanwhile, Lan Wanyin stands on his sword dozens of meters above ground, his brows drawn together in a mix of both concentration and frustration.
He had missed his chance to retrieve his qin from its qiankun pouch earlier and without his trustworthy instrument as an amplifier for his spiritual energy, Lan Wanyin finds his techniques sapping more out of him than usual.
Nevertheless, he doesn't allow the insignificant details to hold him back. Instead, he endeavours to pour even more spiritual energy in, and the hint of blue on his fingertips intensifies into a pearlescent white as an impressive looking second barrier springs up directly above the first, thoroughly encasing Jiang Xichen securely within the dome.
No one can touch him—Lan Wanyin’s message is painfully apparent, but that merely deepens Jiang Xichen’s unease.
He knows that holding one barrier for the length of an incense is Lan Wanyin’s limit, and it is as clear as day to anyone how much of a toll creating two of such barriers are on the Lan cultivator's body.
Even his stance on Sandu has gotten increasingly shaky, but Lan Wanyin continues trudging on solemnly as though he knows neither pain nor fear.
"Wanyin, stop," Jiang Xichen exhales breathily, pushing himself up with his elbows, but his voice fails to reach the younger man. He can only watch with bated breath as Lan Wanyin determinedly raises his free hand with absolutely no hesitation and sends a bolt of spiritual energy blazing forth.
It crashes into the line of archers, knocking a huge portion of them cleanly off their swords.
"Drop your weapons!" Lan Wanyin orders, yelling through a mouthful of blood rising at the back of his throat. There is barely any spiritual energy left in him, but Lan Wanyin focuses all the last dregs he can find right into his palm and wields it as a threat directed at the Wen leader. "Don't make me repeat myself! Throw down all your weapons!"
A long and tense silence passes between the two opposing parties with neither giving in. The atmosphere grows heavy, sparking with a sense of animosity.
Lan Wanyin narrows his eyes. The air around him vibrates with the low hum of condensed spiritual energy, and the Wen leader yields almost immediately, dropping his sword and raising both hands into the air.
"Scary, how very scary. You don't have to go that far, you know? I hate pain so I would have conceded if you asked nicely," the Wen leader replies with a huge sigh, nodding his head up at the archers and gesturing for them to drop their bows as well.
His subordinates blink confusedly but quickly follow suit without any further questions, disarming themselves one after another.
War bows drop onto the ground with dull thuds and the Wen leader backs away from the injured Jiang Xichen one step at a time with both of his hands still in the air.
Lan Wanyin takes in every single motion with a watchful eye, only releasing his unwavering concentration slightly when he is sure no one is remotely close enough to take Jiang Xichen by surprise anymore.
Unfortunately, unbeknownst to Lan Wanyin, this is the exact moment the Wen leader had been waiting for.
An arrow soars in from behind, surging straight ahead from the battlement in Lan Wanyin’s blind spot. The young man turns at the sound of whistling wind, angling his body just fractionally—and that small opening in his defences is more than enough for the Wens.
The released arrow clad in spiritual energy skims across Lan Wanyin's chest, cleaving through the flesh to leave behind an enormous laceration in its wake.
The momentum nearly drags Lan Wanyin off Sandu and the white-robed man hastily presses a hand to his wound, struggling to regain his balance, and it effectively distracts him enough that he does not notice the second incoming arrow until it is too late.
It embeds itself into the Lan cultivator's chest, directly above his heart and Lan Wanyin’s expression twists in turn, with his initial surprise morphing into one of pain within seconds.
The body of the weapon glows ominously, heat building at the very tip, and Lan Wanyin hurriedly yanks the arrow out.
But that alone is insufficient to halt the continued activation of the array, and Lan Wanyin only has the time to clench his teeth together before it blows up in his face.
Severe burns blossom across pale skin all at once, snaking trails of pink up from Lan Wanyin’s torso to the left half of his face as the impact from the explosion sends him sailing off Sandu and crashing down toward the earth.
The barrier around Jiang Xichen flickers once, twice, then shatters; snuffed out, as if it had never existed.
"Ah, there goes your noble little hero~" the Wen leader sniggers but his snide words no longer register in Jiang Xichen’s head.
All that is present are screams of anguish as Jiang Xichen lunges his injured body forward to catch the smaller man in his arms before the latter's back meets the ground.
Maybe the screams are from the voices in his head. Maybe they are Jiang Xichen’s own, loud and reverberating in the arena. He doesn't know anymore, doesn't want to know—yet he can't avert his gaze from the undeniable fact that Lan Wanyin is currently dying in his arms.
See? This is what happens when you refuse our help.
Just give in already. You are useless when you are alone.
It's the Wen-dogs. They took another person away from you. Don't you hate them? Don't you want to kill them all? We'll help you. We will help you kill every last person you hate.
Jiang Xichen’s body trembles. He wants to scream aloud, but all that comes out from him is a harsh gasp for breath. Half of his body is numb, weak, and his chest heaves with a series of erratic breaths. He feels akin to a fish out of water, with neither of his lungs able to hold even one tiny bit of air.
"Wanyin? Wanyin. Wanyin…" Jiang Xichen repeats like a broken record as he cradles the unconscious younger man to himself. "Why… Why did you come back…?"
Why would you come back? Jiang Xichen wants to ask, but he doesn't have to because he already knows the answer. He did the same thing back at Lotus Pier after all.
Jiang Xichen presses a shaking hand to Lan Wanyin’s sternum to staunch the blood flow but comes up short. The wound is far too large, stretching from one end to the other, and the feeble attempts by the latter's golden core to mend its owner's body is simply insufficient.
Because he used up nearly all his spiritual energy for you.
And you have none to give him.
Jiang Xichen chokes back a sob. Tears blur his vision.
"Please," Jiang Xichen pleads, slivers of resentment energy seeping from his fingertips as he presses his bloodied hand to Lan Wanyin’s right cheek.
The younger man's complexion is paling far too quickly as he begins bleeding out, his lips turning a sickening shade of blue, and his body rapidly losing precious heat—and Jiang Xichen knows he can't do anything but watch on helplessly.
He bends forward, pressing quivering lips to Lan Wanyin’s forehead.
"Please," Jiang Xichen repeats again, despite knowing it would likely be a prayer that goes unanswered.
Accept us. Take revenge.
Jiang Xichen screws his eyes shut. The aching in his body that he had been fighting to suppress for the longest time returns all at once. Cold burns white-hot through every inch of his veins, making him pained to the point where he no longer wants to live.
The screams in Jiang Xichen’s head are endless—some inviting him to join their side while others beg for him to free them—and the frost from his fingers climb further up the length of his arms with each echoing sentence.
"Kill them both!" Jiang Xichen thinks he hears the Wen leader command, but he is already too far gone to process the words. The sounds surrounding him feel as though they are from a hundred thousand miles away, divided from him by an ocean of ceaseless wretched screams.
The resentment energy that had been lingering in Jiang Xichen’s body all these months follows the flow of qi in his meridians to rush up into his chest, where it condenses to form a frigid mass at the empty space where his golden core once belonged.
Dark tendrils burst forth almost immediately after, unfurling both out and upward. The pressure exerted from this rushes away from the epicentre in a huge wave, lifting the Wens into the air and flinging them unceremoniously backward before they even had the time to scream.
Some of the unfortunate individuals have their skulls cracked against the brick walls, others are impaled in lethal locations by objects lying around in the city, and the handful that are lucky enough to survive the initial blow hurriedly get to their feet, scrambling to the gates as fast as their legs can carry them.
However, none of them can ever hope to win the speed of lightning, and they can only shriek in anguish as Zidian heeds the call of its master and releases a huge current of violet that lights up the entire Jiangling. Sprawling coils of solidified demonic energy sparking with purple whips in a circular arc around its epicentre, brutally severing and hacking the escaping Wens into countless pieces with this one swift move.
Blood paints the air, bringing with it a sickly sweetness with an undertone of rust that is further exacerbated by the stench of burnt flesh.
Ruptured blood vessels spread out like spiderwebs under the surface of Jiang Xichen's skin, the blackened lines creeping up his neck to the corners of his leaden and unfocused gold eyes. They remain there for an indeterminate amount of time, before retracting back to his chest.
Jiang Xichen’s eyes clear up, shifting back to its usual shade.
And as if on cue, the entire ensemble freezes mid-action, lingering still for a long moment before it explodes, setting off a bone-chilling blast of wind that rips off the fire talismans and puts out all the torches in Jiangling.
Darkness reigns over the now silent outpost and Jiang Xichen wordlessly tilts his head up to the moonless night sky.
Flakes of powder white spiral down from the heavens above as if even the gods are weeping for his loss.
Chuckling dryly, Jiang Xichen then sits back on his heels, ignoring the stark carnage around himself as he gingerly hugs the unconscious Lan Wanyin to himself. He takes comfort in feeling the weak rise and fall of the latter's chest and hearing his feeble intakes of breaths over the neverending chorus of shrieking echoing in his head.
"Look, Wanyin. It's snowing."
Lan Wanyin is cold in his arms, so cold, too cold. But Jiang Xichen refuses to let go. He doesn't push him away, not now, not yet, because he knows he will never know warmth or silence again.
Not after today.
Never again.
Notes:
1. 木秀於林，風必摧之: The tallest trees in the forest are always the first to get blown over by the wind, which roughly means that the more talented people who stand out are always the first targets of the jealous common masses. Back
"Remove the needles," Jiang Xichen hisses, glaring up at the crimson motifs on the edge of Wen Qing's sleeves. "I don't want anything to do with the Qishan Wen Sect."
"Unfortunately that is not your choice to make," Wen Qing replies coolly as she continues stitching the immobile man's wounds without even bothering to glance up. "If you are worried about the Lan Young Master, my younger brother and Wei Wuxian are tending to him now. All he needs is a steady input of spiritual energy and his wounds will mend themselves. You, on the other hand…"
Jiang Xichen clenches his jaw, averting his gaze.
Wen Qing clears her throat. "Learn some restraint. You are no different from a normal human now."
"It is none of your concern."
"Every patient's well-being is of a physician's concern."
"Fancy a Wen saying that," Jiang Xichen scoffs, angling his face as far as his neck would allow when Wen Qing reaches in to patch up the cut on his cheek.
Wen Qing rolls her eyes. "I was not involved in whatever was done to your family and Sect. I cannot control what the rest of my Sect does but I can vouch that me and my clan have not taken a single life thus far."
"Do you think I would believe that?"
"I don't need you to believe me. All I ask for is to live with a clear conscience."
Jiang Xichen snaps his gaze back to hers at these words, his heart twinging with the feeling of nostalgia. He falls silent for a long moment, his eyes red-rimmed.
"If the Wens lose the war, everyone would persecute just because you are a Wen. Knowing that, then why do you still help them?"
"If your side wins the war, they will likely unite together against you next because of your unconventional cultivation method. Knowing that, then why do you still help them?"
Jiang Xichen presses his lips into a firm line at Wen Qing's refute. He sighs. "Is it worth it?"
Wen Qing gestures at the blackened skin on Jiang Xichen’s chest. "Is yours worth it then? Worth losing your humanity over?"
Jiang Xichen chuckles, tension slowly leaving his body as he recalls his days on the Burial Mounds, recalls how he too, had asked himself this exact same question when he stood alone in the cave at the Dust-Creek Mountain, absorbing the four hundred years worth of resentment energy trapped in the iron sword into his own body, recalls how he had fought against the idea of giving in for the longest time only to succumb entirely in the end anyway.
"When you have no other choices left and no way to turn back, even the most bizarre thing would seem worth it." He glances up to the sky, his face turned to the direction of Lotus Pier. "You might not believe me now, but back then, all I really wanted was to go home."
He didn’t want to do this initially because he was afraid of the backlash, but there is no longer any need for him to hold back anymore, is there? He has already gone past the point of no return after all.
Laying siege to an entire city with just resentment energy alone is no longer a far-fetched dream for him.
The darkened patch of skin on Jiang Xichen’s chest grows in size.
Wen Qing’s fingers still.
“Remove the needles,” Jiang Xichen asks once again, his tone polite but exceedingly cold. “I am going home.”
*₊°。 ❀°。°✿ FANART CORNER ✿° .❀。• *
Chapter 21: Reconcilation
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
<PRESENT>
Jiang Xichen wakes to the melody on a qin.
It is calm and soothing, each chord sending sparks of spiritual energy into his fragmented core, relieving the cold and oppressive weight of the accumulated resentment energy. It makes his dull limbs warmer, his heavy chest lighter, and Jiang Xichen turns his head to the side to peer through the sheer canopy curtain at the musician.
A strange sense of déjà vu overcomes him when he spots Lan Wanyin seated behind his instrument, brows pinched in concentration. It is reminiscent of the night when he first came back in Song Hengyi's body—when he still foolishly thought he would be able to hide his identity from Lan Wanyin until the very end.
To think that he would be seeing this exact same scenario in the afterlife too. Yan Luo Wang1 has a really warped sense of humour, Jiang Xichen muses to himself with a mocking chuckle, only to groan in pain when the action tugs on his healing wounds.
Lan Wanyin is by his side before Jiang Xichen even has the time to blink, his expression exuding a sense of relief as he gingerly brushes Jiang Xichen’s sweat-matted hair away from his forehead.
"Xichen, you are finally awake."
Jiang Xichen blinks twice, confused by the younger man's presence and the weight of the hand on his forehead. He swallows dryly, clearing his throat several times before squeaking out in a hoarse voice, "Wanyin? Why are you here?"
An unreadable look flits past Lan Wanyin's countenance as the man freezes in place momentarily. He stares straight into Jiang Xichen’s eyes, steel blue boring into molten amber.
Lan Wanyin withdraws his hand. "This is the Hanshi.2 I brought you back to Cloud Recesses. It took Shufu and Xiongzhang three days of continuously passing you spiritual energy before your condition stabilised."
"Three days," Jiang Xichen echoes numbly before falling oddly quiet. The gentle whistling of wind through the bamboo grove surrounding the humble abode fills the resulting silence between the two men.
"When…" Lan Wanyin breaks the silence after a long pause. "When did you come back? When did you plan on telling me?"
Jiang Xichen slips his eyes close with a resigned sigh.
He knows that he cannot possibly get away from these questions. He already knew the other man would definitely ask him these at some point in time, but he had never imagined that Lan Wanyin would pluck up sufficient courage to ask them this soon.
Nevertheless, his stance on the matter will not waver.
"Shouldn't you already know the answers to them, Wanyin?"
"How could I, when you have never told me anything!” Lan Wanyin lunges forward to grab the taller man roughly by the lapels of his inner robe. Surprisingly, Jiang Xichen doesn't resist the manhandling at all, allowing Lan Wanyin to yank him up into a half-sitting position, with their faces mere millimetres apart.
Then, just as quickly as Lan Wanyin lunged forward, he now backs away, shrinking in on himself, recoiling as if scalded.
"Am I that untrustworthy?" Lan Wanyin asks in a small trembling voice, eyes downcast and lashes wet. "In the past and even now… you have never trusted me enough to confide your problems…"
Lan Wanyin's tone is unnaturally sombre, and Jiang Xichen swallows thickly, at a loss for words. He never knew that Lan Wanyin possessed such thoughts, and now that he does, Jiang Xichen realises he doesn't know what to say or do in response to them.
What can he even say?
Jiang Xichen leans his weight backward, supporting his body with his left hand. The ritual wound oozes out fresh blood at the seams, seeping crimson into pale cream bandages.
Another length of silence drags on between the duo. The whistling of wind through the bamboo grove still continues, but instead of being calming like earlier, it merely grates their ears incessantly, reminding them of all the words that have gone unspoken between them.
"Xichen, I—”
"Wanyin," Jiang Xichen interrupts with a dry laugh and a thin, wry smile. "Have you heard of the Sacrificial Ritual? It is an ancient, forbidden technique, one where you offer up your body in exchange for summoning a villainous ghoul to grant a wish. I was just summoned by this ritual when you met me at Baixue Temple."
Lan Wanyin remains silent and Jiang Xichen takes that as his cue to continue speaking.
"Meeting you there was a completely unexpected coincidence. I never thought that I would meet someone I know so soon after coming back."
The realisation dawns on Lan Wanyin after a beat.
"So the two wounds I saw on you then were not a curse from the demonic arm, but incisions made for the Sacrificial Ritual?" Lan Wanyin's gaze flickers to Jiang Xichen’s left forearm where there is only one remaining laceration. "But if Xue Yang's death is part of Song Hengyi's wish, then who is the other?"
Jiang Xichen averts his gaze. "I don't want to tell you."
The white-robed cultivator sucks in a shallow breath. "I see. That would mean the second person is someone we both know then. Is it someone from the Nie Sect? Jin Sect?"
"Enough! I said that there is no need for you to know because I have no plans to do anything differently from now on either!"
Lan Wanyin’s face darkens. "Does that mean that you have no intention of finding out why Song Hengyi wants to kill off this other person so badly?"
Jiang Xichen curls his hands into tight fists. "Yes. Because I have no intention of killing anymore."
"So you wouldn't even try...? Why wouldn't you at least try?!"
"You don't understand, Wanyin!" Jiang Xichen lashes out, clenched fists shaking with a plethora of indescribable emotions. "If I kill someone for the sake of staying alive, how would that make me any different from the person I was back then?!"
"Then what would that make me—as someone who had been grieving for so long? Are you telling me that I would have no choice but to watch helplessly as someone I love kills himself in front of me a second time!"
Jiang Xichen snaps his head up at that, his brows furrowing as he reaches a hand out to the other man. "Wanyin?"
"Don't fucking touch me!" Lan Wanyin snaps, slapping his hand away. The sting from their point of contact burns, but it is nothing in comparison to the ache taking root deep inside Jiang Xichen’s chest when he catches the sight of Lan Wanyin's red-rimmed eyes and quivering lower lip.
"Wanyin."
Lan Wanyin lets out a shuddering breath and rises to his feet. He takes a step back, shoulders shaking. A single tear overflows and slides down pale cheeks, followed shortly by another, and another, and another.
"Wanyin, listen, I–"
"No, don't explain. I don't want to hear it."
"Please," Jiang Xichen tries again, reaching out to the other man futilely. He finds himself moving on instinct, because seeing Lan Wanyin’s tears agonizes him, making his heart twinge painfully.
"Please listen, Wanyin. I… I never thought I would get a second chance. I had nothing but regrets for my first life. I killed so many innocent people; everyone I loved and cared for were either implicated or chose to leave me… I didn't want history to repeat itself. I didn't want to risk messing things up again."
I didn't want to risk having you leave me too—the unspoken words cling heavily to the dense air.
"When I saw you again, I couldn't help but want to remain by your side, even if it meant hiding my identity from you. But I realised that all of these were merely me being greedy. Having a second chance, having you call me a 'friend', and spending these few months together from Baixue Temple to Yi City should already be more than enough for me."
"But it is not enough for me!" Lan Wanyin retorts, his trembling voice cracking with the sheer amount of emotion in his tone. "Do you think that you are the only one with regrets? Everyday I wish that I could have done something differently so you'd still be here. If only I were stronger, if only I were faster, if only I didn't hide you at the Dust-Creek Mountain, if only I didn't bring you back to Burial Mounds…"
"Hide me?" Jiang Xichen questions, voice barely louder than a whisper, and his question goes unanswered by Lan Wanyin.
"That song that I composed for you. What thoughts and emotions do you think I have whenever I play it? What hopes do you think I portray through it, and what dreams do you think I have lost?" Lan Wanyin's tone turns bitter and he spins on his heel, crossing the room in huge strides, the tails of his blemished forehead ribbon trailing after him.
"Wait!" Jiang Xichen calls after him.
He feels the pressing need to attempt to comfort Lan Wanyin, even if he doesn't know what the right thing to say at the moment is, even if what he says right now wouldn't be heartfelt—and the latter sees right through him.
"You don't need to say anything else," Lan Wanyin repeats himself between gritted teeth, pausing by the door. "I understand and respect your stance. I just need some time alone to come to terms with it."
Jiang Xichen clambers off the bed immediately, unwilling to let Lan Wanyin leave yet. However, the curse mark on his injured legs and his general inactivity over the past few days impedes his movements, and Jiang Xichen finds himself crashing onto the floor instead, just as the doors swing shut.
He parts his lips, wanting to call out again, but gives up just as the words are about to leave his mouth.
Lan Wanyin is right, Jiang Xichen realises. He really doesn't actually need to say anything else, because although he knows exactly what Lan Wanyin wants to hear, he can't bring himself to say it. Pretending that he has changed his mind would only end up hurting the other man even more.
"I'm sorry," Jiang Xichen whispers to no one in particular in the empty Hanshi before he solemnly pushes himself back onto his feet and dons the clean set of folded robes placed on a tray at the foot of the bed.
The majority of the fabric is in shades of navy and black, similar to the colons Lan Wanyin had first gotten for him before they left for Dafan Mountain. However, this time round, the attire is clearly designed in Yunmeng Jiang’s trademark jianxiu style.
The thoughtfulness behind Lan Wanyin’s actions makes a lump rise at the back of Jiang Xichen's throat. It makes his limbs feel cold again, his heart heavy, and the ache in his chest only further deepens when he tucks his xiao resting by the tray into his waistband and casts a brief glance around the room which he had never once set foot in before.
The furniture in the Hanshi is extremely simplistic, without any unnecessary belongings. There is a folding screen partition right in the middle of the room, decorated with a painting of drifting clouds, floating and morphing with its fine brushwork.
A single paulownia qin table is placed horizontally in front of it, facing the bed. On it is Lan Wanyin's prized instrument, alongside a thick book that the little bookworm has left lying limply open, with a bookmark to its side.
Jiang Xichen picks the text up, preparing to slide the delicate bookmark between the pages when the pressed jasmine flower on it catches his eye.
He had once given Lan Wanyin such a flower too—tucking it behind the boy's left ear on their very first meeting at Cloud Recesses.
A pretty flower for the pretty princess.
Jiang Xichen was a flamboyant sixteen year old back then, curious and eager, fearing nothing. Those days were by far one of the most carefree times of his first lifetime and he would give anything just to go back to those happy days.
"A pretty flower for the pretty princess," Jiang Xichen repeats it from memory with a smile on his lips.
However the flower is hardly the only thing Jiang Xichen would find here that moves him. From the faint whiff of lotus from the makeshift pond right outside the window to the sight of several carved white jade xiao he spots around the room—some unfinished and others stored away, and that lone pristine one perched carefully atop a stand on a cabinet, with two characters ‘Liebing’ etched into it—it is painfully obvious that every other thing placed in the Hanshi is here to remind Lan Wanyin of him.
The realisation comforts Jiang Xichen as much as it scares him because he feels incredibly undeserving. Undeserving to have someone who held and continues to hold him in such high regard, and the realisation leaves a bittersweet aftertaste in his mouth as he finally dashes out after the cultivator.
Lan Wanyin had never once forgotten him.
Lan Wanyin had never once stopped mourning him.
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
"You really haven't changed one bit. You still come here whenever you are upset."
Lan Wanyin does not budge at those words, not even when the newcomer sinks to his knees beside him, on the steps before the house their mother had once lived in. The vast field of gentians has not bloomed at all ever since she left, but her cottage is nostalgically recognisable to the two brothers even without the usual sea of blue surrounding it.
"Xiongzhang is mistaken. I am not upset, I merely remembered the past and got a little sentimental."
Lan Wangji does not even cast a glance in his younger brother's direction. They were once and are still able to understand each other perfectly without using words after all.
"Lying is prohibited in Cloud Recesses."
"I am not lying."
The Sect Leader lets out a deep exhale, deciding not to beat around the bush any further. "Did the person you bring back say something unpleasant to you?"
Lan Wanyin clenches the hands above his thighs into tight fists, digging blunt nails into his palms.
"He didn't say anything wrong."
Lan Wangji scoffs, narrowing his eyes fractionally in apparent displeasure. "Everything which that Jiang person says is—"
Lan Wanyin snaps his gaze up to meet his elder brother's instantly, interrupting him. "How did you...? When did you realise who he is?"
"From the moment you entered Cloud Recesses. There were only two instances so far which I have seen you with that same expression. The first was when I found you at the Dust-Creek Mountain after the Lanling Massacre, and the second was on Burial Mounds after the Siege."
Lan Wanyin averts his face, his lips pressed into a tight line. He doesn't explicitly say if his brother's guess is correct, but his series of actions has long since given the answer away.
"Do you hate me?" Lan Wangji asks after a long awkward silence between the two siblings, his tone steadfast despite the daunting question. "I was the one who forced you to bring him back to Burial Mounds."
"I don't," Lan Wanyin replies truthfully and simply. "I have nothing but gratitude for Xiongzhang because you secretly sent someone to inform me about the Siege and helped me sneak out of Cloud Recesses without any of the elders noticing. Because of that, I was able to see him one last time."
"Then why have you not written home at least once in the past two years? If not for Wei Ying sending me updates whenever you drop by Lotus Pier periodically, I would not have even known if you were dead or alive."
Lan Wanyin swallows thickly at that, his elder brother's two sentences cutting unnecessarily deep into his heart. Lan Wangji isn't someone who would typically choose to use such strongly worded words, so the fact that he is doing so right now makes his hurt more apparent, and in turn, makes the guilt even more unbearable for the younger man.
"This Wanyin apologises for his wilful actions which have caused Xiongzhang to worry."
"Did you think I said that because I wanted an apology?"
Lan Wanyin lets out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. "I did not want to return to Cloud Recesses because I have not sorted out my feelings yet. I didn't know how to face everyone—not the disciples who stormed Burial Mounds or the elders who approved of it."
Lan Wangji does not falter at Lan Wanyin's words, not visibly at least. "The Gusu Lan Sect has always prided itself on being just and righteous, yet the perception of right and wrong is always easily warped by our own personal opinions and desires."
"Is Xiongzhang saying that my perception is wrong?"
"It is an indisputable fact that killing is wrong."
"But we have all killed before! During the Sunshot Campaign, the Wen body count racked up by Gusu Lan Sect does not pale in comparison to his in the slightest! We stood by and watched as Wen Qing who saved my life at Jiangling get executed! What does it make us then?!"
Lan Wangji turns to him. "You wish to clear his name."
"I…" Lan Wanyin trails off, uncertainty buzzing in his system.
What exactly is it that he wishes to achieve? He had always possessed this unexplainable anger in his system that is directed to the world which he believed was responsible for driving Jiang Xichen to his death—both those who turned a blind eye and those who actively participated.
However, now that he is faced with this question, Lan Wanyin realises that he does not know what he wishes to do with these rampaging emotions in him.
Does he want to take it out on the world? Make them pay? Make them withdraw their accusations against the Yiling Patriarch?
But would that make Jiang Xichen happy? Is that really what the man wants?
What is it that he wants?
Having a second chance, having you call me a 'friend' and spending these few months together from Baixue Temple to Yi City should already be more than enough for me.
Lan Wanyin visibly flinches at the realisation.
That's right, Jiang Xichen had already made his stance clear. All he wanted was to spend time with the people he cared about—something he was not able to do in his previous life because his status as the Yiling Patriarch inevitably caused rifts—and yet Lan Wanyin had selfishly interrupted him and tried to change his mind.
How despicable it is of him to do so.
Lan Wanyin tightens his grip around Sandu, his palms oddly clammy.
Suddenly, the ring of bells comes in a peal, echoing down from the western side of the Cloud Recesses.
These obnoxious sounds are completely different from the usual ones that are used to tell time, resembling chaotic clanging much more than the typical melodic chimes. The rhythm gradually picks up too, its pace turning hurried and violent, as if there is a madman striking it.
Both Lan Wangji and Lan Wanyin stand up at once, their facial expressions changing immediately as they turn in the direction of the Mingshi.
The Mingshi is a building located at the opposite end of Cloud Recesses from their mother's cottage, and is primarily used by the Lan Sect to summon spirits. Having the bells ring in this particular recognisable cadence can only mean one thing: that there is something resentful inside the building that the disciples have failed to subdue.
But ever since the Mingshi has been built, there are almost no cases where the summoning failed, and the number of times the bells have been tolled in this manner can be counted with all the fingers on just one hand.
So for it to happen right now, when he had just brought Jiang Xichen back, is it merely a coincidence or...
“The Mingshi has not been scheduled for use,” Lan Wangji states simply, and the budding sense of foreboding building in Lan Wanyin grows to the point of making him feel physically sick.
It is an unspoken rule in the Lan Sect that anything potentially resentful brought back from night-hunts should be kept and monitored in the Mingshi. Having the watchtower available would naturally mean that there is nothing clad with resentment energy prowling around in the Cloud Recesses at the moment—except Jiang Xichen and his unconventional cultivation method.
But why would he risk using demonic cultivation in public? He should have already known the general opinion of the unlawful method.
"Something unexpected must have happened," Lan Wangji points out while stepping lightly onto Bichen, and the realisation swiftly dawns on Lan Wanyin.
They had not told anyone of their whereabouts, and when the disciples were not able to locate them in an emergency, their next best bet would be to activate an alarm system that would reach even the back mountains.
Needless to say, the one that is quite possibly solely responsible for coming up with this haphazard but effective method would likely be none other than Jiang Xichen.
Sighing inwardly, Lan Wanyin leaps onto the levitating Sandu and rushes off in the direction of the Mingshi.
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
"Why are you still following me around? I have already told you I don't know where he is!"
Jiang Xichen peers surreptitiously at the protesting young boy. He looks to be around fifteen years of age, wearing the Lan Sect's trademark white forehead ribbon. However, there is no cloud embroidery on the fabric, indicating that this boy is not from the main clan.
Not that it really matters, Jiang Xichen thinks as he crosses his arms behind his head and continues trailing after the frustrated disciple with uneven steps.
He had searched through Cloud Recesses at least twice in a frenzied craze for any traces of Lan Wanyin, and while some parts of the Sect have changed since the last time he had been here, he was still able to manoeuvre his way through to all the locations he thought Lan Wanyin might have gone to—but turned up empty all the same.
The only remaining place he can think of is Caiyi Town, but to leave Cloud Recesses, he would first have to get his hands on the token for passage. Without that prized item, even if he is able to scale the tall white walls, he would only just be viciously flung off by the barrier.
"Come on, don't be so cold, xiao shidi! I'm out here searching for your Sect's er-gongzi, and you happen to be stuck patrolling Cloud Recesses. Wouldn't having me tag along be killing two birds with one stone?"
"Who is your shidi?!" the disciple snaps, running his palms up and down his forearms as if the thought alone disgusted him to the point of raising goosebumps. "Stop following me around!"
Jiang Xichen grins, holding out a hand. "Simple. If you want me to stop following you around then loan me your jade token."
The disciple stares at him incredulously, arching a brow skywards, only to see Jiang Xichen’s smile widening.
Unnerved, the disciple hurriedly reaches into his sleeve then, but is surprised to find it empty. He whips his gaze up hastily, and spots Jiang Xichen leisurely spinning the stringed token around the purple ring on his right forefinger.
"W-When did you—!" The disciple hastily lunges for his token. However, he can barely reach up to Jiang Xichen's height and can only leap around futilely. "What are you doing? Are you insane?! Return it to me!"
"It's just a token. I need it to sneak out of Cloud Recesses."
"It is not just a token! The tokens for the Lan disciples are different from that of you guest disciples. It's made from a special white jade, and even has your name etched behind! Receiving a token is equally as important as getting your first forehead ribbon—the ribbon is a symbol of restraint but the token is a reminder that Cloud Recesses will always be your home!"
Jiang Xichen stills upon hearing that and stares up at the white jade token in his hand, only to be surprised by its familiarity.
This current one in his hand has a delicately crafted cloud motif on the front and two words 'Zhe Shi'3 carved elegantly at the back, but Jiang Xichen finds uncanny parallels between it and the misshapen pendant Lan Wanyin gave him in the Xuanwu cave.
The pendant that he had kept alongside him for the longest time as the Yiling Patriarch. The pendant that had protected him time and time again. The pendant that he had destroyed in front of Lan Wanyin himself at the Lanling Massac—
Zhe Shi puts an abrupt end to Jiang Xichen’s thoughts by kicking the man in the shin and swiping the token out from mid-air when the unsuspecting man loosens his grip. He then quickly slides the token back into his sleeve before scrutinizing Jiang Xichen with a very long and critical once-over, effectively displaying his disapproval without the use of any words.
Jiang Xichen clicks his tongue. "Tsk tsk, a gentleman reasons with his words and not with his fists.4 Besides, as someone from the Lan Sect, how can you resort to force?"
Zhe Shi shoots him a withering glare.
Jiang Xichen puffs his chest up and dons a smug smirk, angering Zhe Shi to the point that he reaches for the hilt of his sword.
This boy's temper really resembles someone, Jiang Xichen muses, his shoulders shaking with stifled laughter. However, all feelings of comfort vaporise in a split second after, when the older cultivator picks up the light crunch of dried leaves behind him.
He whirls around on his heel at once, and the curvature of his smile freezes instantly when he notices a black figure standing under the shadow of a tree a little ways away from them both.
The figure is quite tall, quite straight, quite dignified.
But it is missing a head.
Nie Mingjue!
All the hairs on the back of Jiang Xichen's arm stand immediately, bringing forth a wave of alarm bells that ring incessantly in his head.
How did he get out of the Hanshi? There were absolutely no disturbances before he left, and they had been dutifully playing Rest—
Jiang Xichen’s eyes widen at the realisation.
They haven't. He had been unconscious for several days, and if Lan Wanyin had been staying by his bedside religiously the whole time, then there is absolutely no chance he would have had the time to play Rest.
Then, with so many body parts gathered in such close proximity to one another for an extended period, the resentment energy inside each of them would have sufficient time to rekindle, harmonise, and assemble themselves together to fulfil their wish of dying as a whole corpse.
Zhe Shi frowns at the mysterious shadow, and quickly goes for his sword, only to have Jiang Xichen interrupting him. The older man presses a hand down on the boy's, noiselessly pushing back the half-sheathed weapon before raising a finger to his own lips to signal for Zhe Shi to stay silent.
Quietly, they watch as the headless man reaches for the tree trunk beside him. He runs his palms over the bark several times, as if trying to figure out what it is. He pauses soon after, then puts his hands up to his neck instead, feeling the clean cut at his throat. He starts furiously grasping at the empty space where his head once was, radiating a sense of anxiousness that swiftly changes to frustration.
In his craze, the ghoul stumbles out from under the shade of the tree on accident, allowing the dappled moonlight to illuminate the tattered burial robe hanging over the man's broad shoulders and the shredded fabric from the qiankun pouches clinging to his limbs—both of which Jiang Xichen recognises distinctly.
It really is Nie Mingjue!
As if to ascertain Jiang Xichen’s conjecture, the furious man coincidentally slams his palm into the tree beside him in the next moment, his rippling arm muscles effectively displaying the then Nie Mingjue’s unrivalled strength. With a loud resounding crack, the trunk breaks at once and the broken tree slumps heavily onto the ground, sending a flurry of dried leaves rustling up into the air.
Zhe Shi reaches for his weapon again, holding it horizontally in front of his body. “What sort of monster is this?!”
“Have you been paying attention in Teacher Lan’s class? No matter how you look at it, this is obviously a corpse that is further categorised as a ghoul. How can it be a ‘monster’?”
“Is this the time to preach?” Zhe Shi snaps impatiently under his breath, but a slight flush rushes to his cheeks from the humiliation all the same. “If we don’t get rid of this creature now and allow it to wander freely into the populated areas of Cloud Recesses, the consequences would be unthinkable!”
“Did I say that I would just stand by and watch it wreck havoc?” Jiang Xichen scoffs, callously waving Zhe Shi’s comment away. “I have plenty of ways to get him to remain around here with me, but I can’t possibly get rid of him alone, so you have to go run and get Hanguang-jun.”
“Me? Get the S-Sect Leader?!” Zhe Shi gasps, the courage deflating out of him all of a sudden.
Jiang Xichen raises a brow. “Do you expect me to? Do I look like I know the way around Cloud Recesses? Besides, my cultivation is higher than yours. It only makes sense for me to be the one that stays behind.”
Zhe Shi grimaces as if he does not want to admit the fact that Song Hengyi's core is stronger than his.
"But it would definitely be better if we both stayed behind. It is easier to distract it if there's two of us."
Jiang Xichen chuckles. "There is no point to that even if we do pull it off. We don't have enough spiritual energy to cleanse his resentment, and we can't possibly stay out here all night in hopes that someone would chance upon us and help."
Zhe Shi gestures to a tall watchtower a short distance away. "That's the Mingshi. We commonly hold spirit summoning rituals there and it is equipped with an alarm system in case anything goes wrong. If we can lure it there..."
"And let the ringing bells attract more innocent disciples?"
"No. What I meant was that we can trap it there. The sturdy doors of the Mingshi can only be opened from the inside, and other than a handful of the senior disciples and the Sect Leader himself, practically no one else is able to force their way in."
Jiang Xichen raises a finger to his chin in thought.
Is this solution worth a bet? It might seem more reassuring to have strength in numbers but it is undeniable that he would have more freedom in dealing with Nie Mingjue if he sends the boy away first. Besides, he has no doubt that Nie Mingjue would zero in on him sooner or later because of the curse mark.
Seeing the older man fall silent, Zhe Shi then purses his lips, looking as if he has something he desperately wants to say. However, he is roughly shoved away by Jiang Xichen before the words are able to leave his mouth. Barely a second later, the headless corpse charges through the space Zhe Shi was previously at, and the youth scrambles backwards in surprise.
The dry crunch of leaves seemingly alerts the corpse and it begins ambling towards Zhe Shi without hesitation.
“Don’t move,” Jiang Xichen hisses as he picks up a pebble by his feet. With a flick of his wrist, he throws it accurately at the center of Nie Mingjue’s back, causing the latter to stop in his tracks. Nie Mingjue turns around, remaining still for a moment as if pondering, and starts walking towards Jiang Xichen instead.
Slowly, Jiang Xichen shifts two steps to the side, only narrowly missing the trudging corpse’s fingers.
Zhe Shi releases a sigh of relief.
Jiang Xichen grins at him. “Don’t worry too much. Look, he doesn’t have eyes to see or ears to hear with, which means no matter how much ruckus we kick up, he wouldn’t notice us.”
“But just now, he definitely came over because he heard me!”
“No, that was solely because you moved too fast. This ghoul has quite a high level of cultivation so he can easily tell the movement of the air around him and use that to pinpoint your location. You need to slowly back away from him until you are far enough before you can start running to find help to eliminate him.”
“Shouldn’t we try to liberate him first? The order is to liberate, suppress, then eliminate… Shouldn’t we first try to grant his dying wish and solve his regrets?”
“Regrets? Isn’t it obvious?” Jiang Xichen gestures to the corpse with his chin. “He is searching for his head. Do you have his actual head to present to him? Or will you let him pull your head off to use as an alternative?”
Zhe Shi blanches at the suggestion.
Jiang Xichen shakes his head, his eyes twinkling with mirth. "Your Lan Sect is always good at imparting all these stagnant and inflexible rules but do absolutely nothing in the area of teaching real expertise suitable for night-hunts."
Zhe Shi makes a face. "Why are you saying the exact same things as Wei-qianbei? You know him?"
Jiang Xichen’s throat turns dry. "The real question here is: Is there anyone who doesn't know him?"
"Fair. Wei-qianbei comes by every few days and kicks up a ruckus. I'm sure there is no one here who doesn't know him. Teacher Lan even said that he'd have tossed Wei-qianbei out long ago if not because of his marriage with—" Zhe Shi cuts himself off abruptly when he catches himself gossiping.
Jiang Xichen, who had been listening intently since the topic of Wei Wuxian came up, is now left blinking with a mass of unanswered questions and a sour taste at the back of his throat in the wake of the broken conversation.
Sullenly, he tosses another pebble at Nie Mingjue again, slightly harder this time, as if he is taking his anger out on the poor man—and Nie Mingjue responds by releasing a staggering amount of killing intent that rolls off of him in waves.
The enraged corpse curls his hand into a loose fist and waves it around as he stomps towards Jiang Xichen, making a bunch of vicious hacking and slicing motions that lack any form of elegance.
"Be careful!" Zhe Shi yells, brandishing his sword.
However, staying safe is currently the least of Jiang Xichen’s worries because Zhe Shi's natural instinct to imbue his weapon with his spiritual energy has unwittingly drawn Nie Mingjue’s attention.
The ghoul lunges forward and grabs the blade with his bare hands. The resentment energy seeping out from the cuts on his body forms a thin shield against the sharp edge of the weapon, and the dark smoky tendrils extend and creep down the length towards the hilt.
With widened eyes, the boy immediately attempts to yank his sword away but that is a fatal mistake.
Alerted by the sudden contrasting force, Nie Mingjue reflexively takes a wide step back in response, and tugs the sword roughly back towards himself.
There is no way Zhe Shi can compare in raw strength to the corpse, and he can't even find the time and effort to struggle as he is lifted up into the air. He kicks his legs out wildly, still desperately clinging on to the hilt of his sword while Nie Mingjue spins on his heel and sends him whirling in circles.
"Let go…" the boy manages weakly.
Jiang Xichen tosses another pebble at Nie Mingjue, but the latter is akin to a child who had just found his newest toy and refuses to release the sword. Clicking his tongue, Jiang Xichen then sends out a quick bolt of resentment energy, aimed at severing the corpse’s arm completely at the shoulder.
However, Nie Mingjue unexpectedly gears to an abrupt stop upon noticing the spark of dark energy. The sudden change in motion causes Zhe Shi's grip to slip, and the momentum flings him out and away, towards the splintered tree trunk.
Cursing under his breath, Jiang Xichen hurriedly changes the trajectory of his energy, hurtling it towards Zhe Shi instead. It slips in between the concussed boy's back and the trunk just in the nick of time to cushion the impact, but Jiang Xichen doesn't get a sliver of rest because Nie Mingjue has clearly set his sights on him now—or rather, his head.
He viciously swipes at the height of Jiang Xichen's neck with his newly-gained sword and then pauses, turning his neck as if staring down at the item in his hand.
"You are right, that's not your sabre. Baxia is safe at your ancestral hall," Jiang Xichen answers despite knowing that Nie Mingjue isn't able to hear him.
Unfortunately for him, goodwill does not always beget kindness, and he is left to dodge the flurry of attacks as Nie Mingjue closes in on him agilely.
"Just like how not everything with a blade is your saber, not everything with resentment energy is your head!" Jiang Xichen chastises. Though, despite his words, Jiang Xichen’s fingertips still spark periodically with a small amount of resentment energy that keeps Nie Mingjue ambling towards him.
He waits till Nie Mingjue draws closer before beginning to hobble backwards on his injured legs, slowly but steadily leading the ghoul on a wild goose chase in a direction away from the unconscious Zhe Shi.
"Nie Mingjue, ah, Nie Mingjue, I say, when you were still alive, you were one of the most respectable Sect Leaders in the Great Four Sects. Yet now you've fallen to the level of robbing swords from kids and pulling heads off men. How lamentable!"
The corpse is logically unable to hear his jibe but it seems to grow more furious anyway, and charges straight at Jiang Xichen without any restraint.
Jiang Xichen manages to step out of the way in time, but his ill fortune does not cease there.
With each blow traded, Nie Mingjue's attacks grow much more accurate. Zhe Shi's sword that had previously never even gotten close to its target, now grazes Jiang Xichen, very nearly nicking him right across his shoulder.
Grimacing, Jiang Xichen promptly leaps backwards to put some needed distance between them. He snags the xiao from his waistband and raises it to his lips to play the familiar tune of Rest.
However, without Lan Wanyin's spiritual energy as an accompaniment to restrain Nie Mingjue, the first few notes clad with resentment energy only suffices to agonize the ghoul and sends it on a frenzy instead.
Jiang Xichen evades Nie Mingjue's vicious swipes at his neck with his deft footwork. He uses the man's obsession to his advantage, luring him in with a mixture of big motions and brief sparks of resentment energy.
Nie Mingjue falls for it easily, allowing Jiang Xichen to lead him in this manner slowly but steadily towards the watchtower Zhe Shi had pointed out earlier—the Mingshi.
To think that he would be employing the exact method he'd previously doubted, Jiang Xichen scoffs at himself with a brief shake of his head as he steps over the threshold into the building.
Unfortunately, just as he had told Zhe Shi earlier, it is indeed impossible for him to deal with Nie Mingjue effectively alone.
His core is currently too fragile for him to risk using any amount of spiritual energy, and wielding resentment energy against Nie Mingjue would merely be pitting yin against yin, which would not only be inefficient but also runs the possibility of harming the corpse—and he owes it to his friend, Nie Huaisang, to not harm his only family member's corpse.
Thus, the last option left is for him to absorb Nie Mingjue’s malicious energy into his body as well, similar to how he did it at the Baixue Temple, but he can already foresee the fit the overprotective Lan Wanyin would throw upon finding out.
Not a good idea indeed.
Jiang Xichen chuckles lightly at the image his brain conjured of a red-faced and pouting Lan Wanyin glaring at him—starkly different from the current more composed Lan Wanyin, but both equally precious all the same.
"Have you ever loved anyone?" Jiang Xichen asks, placing a hand above his heart.
Song Hengyi's heart beats steadily, unfaltering.
Jiang Xichen laughs again, the jovial sound slowly turning grim and forced when he stows the xiao away and begins drawing the debilitating amount of resentment energy in him out onto his right palm.
"Do your best to hang in there and not let your core break or I wouldn't be able to exact your revenge against Jin Guangyao, got it?"
There is again no way Nie Mingjue could have heard him, but he grows much more feral, tearing through all the obstacles in his way to charge in a straight line right into the Mingshi.
Jiang Xichen hadn't expected the change in the ghoul's demeanor, but he adapts to it all the same, slamming both hands against the walls of the building.
The concentrated swell of dark energy in his right palm gushes forth, spreading across the towering walls of the Mingshi in a webbed fashion. It slams the heavy doors shut behind the advancing corpse in one swift motion, sending a gust of wind swirling in the enclosed space.
Jiang Xichen squints through it, waving his hand in an upward motion, and the shadows ride the current to surge skywards without respite and slams onto the large bell on the roof.
The resounding clang rolls throughout the entire Cloud Recesses like an obnoxious rumble of thunder, and the sombre and solemn chimes that follow echo in the Mingshi.
Each strike is akin to a hammer to his head, reverberating in Jiang Xichen’s skull and jeopardising his sense of balance. He slumps against the walls, drawing in a stuttered breath while the giddiness induces a wave of bile to rise to the back of his throat.
The roar of resentment energy triggers the aggressive side of Nie Mingjue even further and the ghoul lunges directly at Jiang Xichen, with his blade poised to kill.
Gritting his teeth, Jiang Xichen immediately draws the circulating energy back into his body through his left palm before it can rebound, and hurriedly twists his body to roll off to the side just in time to dodge Nie Mingjue’s slashing attack.
The tip of Zhe Shi's sword lands accurately on the spot where Jiang Xichen previously stood, embedding itself into the wooden flooring.
Jiang Xichen backs away at once, trying to put as much distance between the headless shadow and himself as he possibly can in the cramped Mingshi, but Nie Mingjue simply pursues him without letting up a beat.
It is almost as if the latter can see Jiang Xichen with the way he charges straight at him, dragging the sharp tip of his weapon through the tiles and then upwards in the shape of a crescent arc when he thinks he has Jiang Xichen cornered.
Splinters dance elegantly through the air, swirling along with the dust particles that rise with the trail of wind from the blade that grazes the tip of Jiang Xichen’s nose.
The man reflexively tilts his body away in a backflip and smoothly kicks the weapon out of Nie Mingjue’s steely grip. He then swivels on the flat of his palms, twisting his hips and using the momentum to plant a foot roughly against the ghoul's chest.
However, trying to fend off Nie Mingjue without using any spiritual energy is akin to striking a stone with an egg, 5 and Jiang Xichen can only grit his teeth in frustration when his target barely budges. Instead, Nie Mingjue reaches out blindly in an attempt to grab him and an acute searing pain explodes when the corpse’s ice cold fingertips brush against his ankle.
Jiang Xichen withdraws his outstretched leg at once, springing over to the other end of the Mingshi. There isn't much moonlight filtering into the building but Jiang Xichen doesn't need to look to guess what happened.
By coming into direct contact with its source, the fading curse mark on Jiang Xichen’s leg flares up once more. Numbing waves of pins and needles creep up from his ankle and extend up his thigh, rendering Jiang Xichen momentarily immobile from the pain and weight.
On the other hand, the curse mark seems to have revitalised Nie Mingjue instead. He violently twitches several times where he stands before finally succumbing to it and turns to face Jiang Xichen, killing intent seeping out of his every pore.
If a head sat atop his neck, he would certainly be glaring daggers this very moment.
Jiang Xichen draws in a broken, shuddered breath.
Nie Mingjue pounces over in the next second, his fist connecting and creating a crater in the wall right by Jiang Xichen's left shoulder.
The latter manages to duck to the side with barely any time to spare, dragging his foot along with each hobble.
"I have been trying to help you gather your body parts since I came back and this is how you repay me?" Jiang Xichen grits out between clenched teeth, staring from Nie Mingjue to the doors that still remain firmly closed.
That vile Hanguang-jun! To think that he went to such great lengths to ring the Mingshi's bells just to call him over but that irresponsible guy isn't even here yet!
What sort of a Sect Leader is he, Jiang Xichen scoffs. If it were Wanyin, he would most definitely be—
Jiang Xichen ducks down, evading a swipe at his neck.
He had long since given up on besting the muscled man through strength and is now simply trying to dodge to the best of his abilities. But he knows that he would be on the losing end if this continues, because his opponent is an undead ghoul that does not feel pain or require rest.
Narrowing his eyes, Jiang Xichen solidifies a spear out of a trickle of resentment energy and hastily jams the blunt end against the acupoint on Nie Mingjue’s shoulder, but it does not even slow him down in the slightest.
With no other alternatives, Jiang Xichen then deftly spins the spear and swipes the sharp edge up diagonally, severing Nie Mingjue’s outstretched arm at its pre-existing cut. The limb flies off at an angle, falling limply onto the ground a little ways away from them both.
If he is able to disassemble the parts, then he will still stand a fair chance!
Jiang Xichen releases a breath he didn't know he was holding, but he doesn't actually have the time to relax yet because dark tendrils sprout from the severed arm, sprawling and reaching its way back towards the main body.
It is regenerating?!
Jiang Xichen grimaces as the severed arm springs back in place once the tendrils connect with the main body.
Just his luck, Jiang Xichen muses scornfully, narrowing his eyes. If he can't suppress Nie Mingjue by brute force, then the only method left is to do as he usually does—by absorbing the overflowing amounts of resentment into his own body.
It is not ideal, and he can already picture Lan Wanyin's worried expression and look of disappointment, but it's the only choice he has left when he has to deal with this alone.
Jiang Xichen tightens his grip around the spear, Zidian buzzing lowly on his right forefinger—and as if on cue, the doors to the Mingshi fly open abruptly, sending in a huge gust of wind and falling leaves.
Lan Wanyin stands at the entrance, his hair slightly dishevelled and steel blue eyes dilated. He hastily shifts his attention around the room, wildly and anxiously seeking, until his gaze falls onto the cornered Jiang Xichen.
The latter can tell the exact moment Lan Wanyin's composure snaps, when a layer of frost seemingly settles over the Lan cultivator's countenance.
Sandu flashes out in a wide arc, its bright and powerful sword glare rending Nie Mingjue's corpse into two at his torso before swooping back over to Jiang Xichen. The hilt of the sword catches on his navy lapels, dragging the poor man towards the entrance of the Mingshi without pausing a beat.
Jiang Xichen’s body collides with the hard plane of Lan Wanyin's muscles and the latter immediately wraps a hand around Jiang Xichen protectively, resting a hand on the small of his back.
"Wanyin, why are you here? Weren't you at..." Jiang Xichen begins, but notices Nie Mingjue reassembling himself from the corner of his eye before he can finish his sentence. Swiftly, Jiang Xichen inclines his body, twisting it around so he is directly opposite Lan Wanyin—and takes on the brunt of Nie Mingjue's attack.
Pain flares across his back.
It feels as if there is a stake driven right between his shoulder blades, the strike radiating a lance of pain that mellows into a throbbing ache. Jiang Xichen chokes out a broken gasp for breath as the impact from the blow drives both Lan Wanyin and himself sailing backwards.
Lan Wanyin wraps his arms snugly around Jiang Xichen as they crash against the ground, skidding through grass and soil until they come to a stop when Lan Wanyin's back meets a protruded tree root.
The latter grimaces, the corner of his eye twitching lightly, and Jiang Xichen instantly perks up.
"Wanyin, are you okay—"
"Xichen, are you alright—"
Both men trail off awkwardly, tongue-tied and flushing slightly. However, before they can think of something else to say to lighten the mood, Nie Mingjue has already stomped his way out of the Mingshi.
Lan Wanyin's lips move with the chant of a sword incantation and Jiang Xichen forcefully grabs Sandu's hilt before it can speed forward to its intended target.
"Wait, we can't destroy it. That's Nie Mingjue."
Lan Wanyin stops his chant at once, squinting at the dark shadow emerging from the building with disbelief. He reaches for the qiankun pouch containing his qin, only to begin panicking when he finds it missing, but the limpid note from the reverberation of a string calms him down immediately.
"Xiongzhang," Lan Wanyin mutters, and as if on cue, a slender figure flashes before their eyes, landing lightly on the balls of his feet in front of them.
A single qin is floating horizontally before Lan Wangji, and he expressionlessly plucks at one of the strings. The sound bursts forth akin to a formless arrow, whistling through the air. The pressure from the single note is all-encompassing, resembling sharp blades of swords and sabers that rain down from the sky onto the ghoul.
However, Nie Mingjue does not even flinch. Nonchalantly, he swings his arm down and a trickle of dark energy swiftly fractures the note into pieces.
Without batting an eyelid, Lan Wangji then strums across the entire width of the instrument instead. All seven strings vibrate, singing with even greater power. Their glares materialise into thin ropes that gleam blue under the moonlight, whipping their way towards the corpse with the intention to restrain rather than subdue.
They wind around Nie Mingjue’s body, twisting across his limbs to hold them in place, but wispy coils of dark smoke soon leak from the cuts on the corpse and seep into the blue binds, turning them black and fragile.
Jiang Xichen scrambles to his feet, retrieving his xiao once again. Lan Wanyin hastily grabs his shoulder, brows pinched in warning, and Jiang Xichen offers him a small comforting smile.
“Don’t worry, I won’t go overboard. There’s just something I want to try.”
Indeed, he had been thinking about Xue Yang’s method of controlling resentment energy this entire time. With a seal, Xue Yang was able to control the resentment energy around him and in corpses—so perhaps if he is able to do this as well, then he would be able to appease the tumultuous emotions raging within Nie Mingjue right now?
That would definitely give them an edge over the ghoul.
Besides, even if he were to fail, what could possibly go wrong with the Two Jades of Lan here?
With Lan Wanyin reluctantly passing a steady stream of spiritual energy to him through their point of contact, Jiang Xichen then decisively lifts the makeshift instrument to his lips. He accompanies Lan Wangji’s playing with harsh notes of an abnormally shrill pitch that forms a bizarre and ear-piercing melody.
The veins along Nie Mingjue’s biceps bulge, his body stiffening as he appears to be moments away from going into yet another rampage.
His emotions flow into Jiang Xichen’s mind when the latter finally seizes control over the dark energy—a combination of resentment, anger, and a touch of arrogance—and Jiang Xichen slips his eyes close at that, assuredly shifting into another melody that is much more relaxed and tranquil.
Lan Wanyin lets out a soft gasp when he recognises the piece, but he isn’t the only one that reacts to it.
Nie Mingjue too, is forced by the music to freeze in place at once, and he slowly turns towards the direction in which the melody came from. After a moment, he even hunches his upper body over, looking almost dejected as the resentment energy around his body seemingly gets heavier, and steadily returns into its owner’s body.
Lan Wangji seizes the opportunity to subdue the remnants of resentment in Nie Mingjue by playing several repeats of Rest.
Under the forceful attacks of the xiao and qin, Nie Mingjue looks as if he had finally lost all his energy and succumbs to the two instruments with a stagger. He falls backwards heavily, his individual dismembered body parts scattering over the carpet of dry leaves.
Only the left arm is determinedly standing upright on the ground, steadily pointing towards the North.
“Lanling Jin,” Lan Wangji points out evenly, when Jiang Xichen and Lan Wanyin crouch down to begin sealing the parts inside several new qiankun pouches.
Jiang Xichen's hands still.
Admittedly, he doesn't want to suspect the hero of the Sunshot Campaign—but there is no doubt that the evidence they have right now all points towards Jin Guangyao.
Someone who knows the secrets behind the Nie Sabre Hall, is so intelligent that he can remember sword moves as long as they have seen them once, and has a complicated history with Chifeng-zun.
There is only one person Jiang Xichen can think of that fits this profile.
He frowns, feeling a sense of trepidation settle over him that refuses to let up even when Lan Wanyin lays a comforting hand over his own.
Song Hengyi, Nie Mingjue, Xue Yang and Jin Guangyao… Could it be that all four of them were connected in some way?
“My sincere apologies, Xiongzhang. This was the dismembered corpse we were investigating and gathering the body parts of. We managed to keep its resentment under check prior to this but—”
“But you were too distracted upon reaching Cloud Recesses and forgot about it,” Lan Wangji completes the sentence for his younger brother with a straight face.
Jiang Xichen glares at him from the corner of his eye, and the snarky Lan Wangji meets it head-on with a challenging look of his own.
Lan Wanyin clears his throat.
"There is a Discussion Conference that will be organized at Lanling in a month's time. You two can join in to investigate Chifeng-zun's passing discreetly," Lan Wangji interjects while turning away abruptly with a swivel of his sleeves, as if seeing his precious younger brother with Jiang gremlin physically hurts his two eyes. "Stay in Cloud Recesses until then and go visit Shufu when you have the time to. He missed you."
Lan Wanyin rises to his feet. "Is Xiongzhang going somewhere?"
"To Lotus Pier. I presume it would be a bad idea for Wei Ying to come over during this period so I will go visit him instead."
Jiang Xichen hears the hidden meaning behind Lan Wangji’s words. He understands that the latter had long since found out about his identity, and intends on not revealing his identity to Wei Wuxian.
However, on the other hand, he completely misunderstands Lan Wangji’s jibe and assumes the man was making fun of him instead.
"And exactly what reason does the esteemed Hanguang-jun have to go visit Lotus Pier?"
Lan Wangji whips around, his eyes light-colored to the point of appearing physically cold.
"Why do I need a reason to visit my husband ?"
Jiang Xichen’s jaw drops.
Notes:
1. Yán Luó Wáng (阎王爷): Ruler of Hell in Taoism Back
2. Hanshi: This is Lan Xichen’s room in the original MDZS. Strictly speaking, it should be the home of the Sect Leader, which is Lan Wangji in this fic, but the Jingshi is too tied to Wangxian for me so I decided to house Lan Wanyin in the Hanshi instead. Back
3. 喆诗 (zhé shī) where the individual characters mean “wise” and “poem” respectively Back
4. 君子动口不动手 Back
5. 以卵击石: To attempt the impossible without knowing one’s limits, inviting disaster Back"What would people say if they see the esteemed Lan er-gongzi kneeling before a nameless cultivator such as myself?" Jiang Xichen says when Lan Wanyin kneels on a single leg in front of him in the Hanshi and rolls up the hem of Jiang Xichen's trousers with an earnest face.
"And what would people say if they know that the invincible Jiang Xichen keeps getting injured?" Lan Wanyin retorts, eliciting a light chuckle from Jiang Xichen.
"How can I play my role of damsel well if I don't get injured and wait helplessly for my Prince Charming to come save me?"
Lan Wanyin tightens his grip around Jiang Xichen’s injured ankle, eliciting a sharp gasp of pain from the latter. He then releases his hold at once, brows furrowing in worry.
Jiang Xichen laughs. "It's not as bad as it looks. Since we have subdued Nie Mingjue for now, it should ebb in a few days." When his reply doesn't distract the other man, Jiang Xichen then adds, "Besides, my back is hurting more than my leg."
Lan Wanyin perks up at that, straightening his posture. "Strip."
"What?!"
"I need to check your injury."
Jiang Xichen clears his throat, hurriedly diverting the topic. "Well, you got injured when we fell too. Why don't you strip first? I'll dress your wound!"
Lan Wanyin shoots him a pointed look.
Jiang Xichen promptly snags the bottle of ointment and roll of bandages off the table, and stares resolutely back at Lan Wanyin, with no visible intention to budge on his stance.
Lan Wanyin's steely gaze collides with his—and to Jiang Xichen’s complete surprise, the man turns around in the next moment and sweeps the long cascading strands of ebony hair over the curve of his shoulder and tugs his robes loose.
Five layers of white fabric fall limply down and pool around his waist, revealing an expanse of pale snowy skin with a dark purpling bruise on his upper back, followed by a long pinkish-red stripe of broken capillaries down the length of his spine.
It is by no means a serious injury and the man's golden core would likely heal them within an hour, but Jiang Xichen swallows dryly all the same as he scoops up a generous amount of ointment on shaking fingers and applies it to the wound.
Lan Wanyin draws in a sharp intake of breath at the sudden cold sensation, and both men immediately flush scarlet at the sudden awkward change in atmosphere.
"I'm almost done," Jiang Xichen proclaims abruptly then, and is trying to rapidly smooth the cream out as best as he could before Lan Wanyin suddenly turns in his seat and grabs his wrist, pink lips parting as if he has something to say.
Jiang Xichen's gaze falls inevitably, lowering itself past the dip of Lan Wanyin's sharp collarbones to the sight of a terrible scar diagonally crossing his chest under his neck, making Lan Wanyin's upper body appear as if it had been torn into two parts then haphazardly sewn back together again.
The bandages in Jiang Xichen’s hand fall, unrolling across the wooden floor.
"That scar... Was it from Jiangling?"
Chapter 22: Recrimination I
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
<PRESENT>
The time for the Gusu Lan Sect's departure to the Discussion Conference held at Lanling comes within the blink of an eye.
Before this, the sect has been bustling with life as the junior cultivators stride briskly around the grounds, busily preparing and collating the list of gifts to be brought to Koi Tower. Yet now, Cloud Recesses is almost eerily silent in the wee hours of the morning, with most of the senior disciples having already left for Lanling earlier than planned.
After all, the scale of this year's Discussion Conference is set to be much larger and more lavish than preceding years, to celebrate the overwhelming success of Sect Leader Jin Guangyao's Lookout Towers. Other than increasing the number of required participants from each sect, the duration of the conference is also extended to two weeks instead of the usual one.
Decorations stretch from the Koi Tower down into the city of Lanling, covering nearly every inch of the half-mile long main road that are lined with murals depicting stories of the Jin Clan’s leaders and their distinguished cultivators.
"It's a lot more ostentatious than what I previously remember," Jiang Xichen leans in to whisper into Lan Wanyin's ear.
"We have a rule against criticizing others," Lan Wanyin points out with a light chuckle before awkwardly averting his face. Jiang Xichen mirrors the action, turning his attention to the mural panels as he fiddles restlessly with the ends of his forehead ribbon.
He had regretted agreeing to disguise himself as a Lan senior disciple once when he saw the five stuffy layers of robes he had to wear, and now, he is experiencing the same regret after remembering the sheer number of rules the Lan Sect has.
How did Wei Wuxian manage to live at Cloud Recesses all this time? And with Lan Wangji no less!
Maybe becoming a Sect Leader has finally taught Wei Wuxian restraint, just like how being rid of such responsibilities in Jiang Xichen’s second lifetime has inculcated the importance of carefreeness for him?
Jiang Xichen glances over wordlessly at the purple ring on Lan Wanyin’s left forefinger, which he had passed the latter to keep up their disguises, and suddenly finds himself homesick with fleeting memories of Lotus Pier.
However, he does not have the time to dwell on it because the Jin disciple assigned to their carriage slows down as they pass the section about the current Sect Leader. This strategically draws their attention to the four panels: “disclosure”, “assassination”, “oath”, and “accession”—which show how Jin Guangyao went undercover during the Sunshot Campaign, assassinated Wen Ruohan, is taken into the Jin Sect, then later rose to his current position of Chief Cultivator.
Each brushstroke speaks volumes of skill, and the lifelike facial expressions captured in the paintings evoke a sense of admiration from viewers with a single glance alone.
The painter's distinct flair continues on to Jin Zixuan’s murals, clearly displaying in all four paintings, the pride and vigour the man had when he was still alive.
Jiang Xichen hums under his breath, tilting his head pensively as the carriage gradually rolls to a complete stop.
Usually, in order to signify their absolute power, sect leaders would purposefully lessen the number of murals for other cultivators in their own generation, or switch to an inferior artist so they won’t be outshone. These acts have been so increasingly rampant that everyone would simply turn a blind eye whenever it happens, yet Jin Guangyao had taken the extra mile to show that Jin Zixuan should be viewed on equal footing as himself.
How magnanimous—or perhaps, sly?
"Gusu Lan Sect, please enter here," the Jin disciple that was driving their carriage announces, leading the disembarking Lans through a large decorated gate.
Jiang Xichen is the last to alight, and is surprised to see that Lan Wanyin has stood off to the side of the carriage, staying behind patiently to wait for him.
"Wanyin?" Jiang Xichen calls, then blinks twice at the outstretched hand the other man extends to him.
Lan Wanyin freezes at that, as if suddenly realizing how inappropriate it is for him to help another grown man off a carriage, then stiffly retracts his arm and turns away.
"Let's go."
Jiang Xichen does not reply. However, his gaze softens a little when he stares at the now familiar white-robed back as they ascend the stairs up Koi Tower together.
They re-join their fellow disciples at the bustling waiting area above—a wide, brick-paved square that doubles as a vantage point to showcase the newest additions from the latest refurbishing the Lanling Jin Sect did. A flight of nine ruyi stairs1 is added to the far side of the square, leading up to an alabaster base where a magnificent palace complete with a hip-and-gable roof sits atop, overlooking the ocean of Sparks Amidst Snow around the square.
Sparks Amidst Snow is the crest of the Lanling Jin Sect.
This exquisite type of white peony has two layers of petals. The larger ones on the outside grow tier upon tier, resembling waves of churning snow, whereas the smaller petals on the inside are thin and delicate, embracing golden strands of stamen as though they were glittering stars.
If just one blossom of this fine flower alone is already beyond splendid, then how can one ever hope to describe in mere words the grandeur of seeing a beautiful man standing before thousands of them?
Jiang Xichen gives a low, contented sigh.
With Jin Zixuan gone, as well as Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji wedded, the first bachelor of their generation is undoubtedly Lan Wanyin at this point—and the groups of staring maidens visibly whispering incessantly to each other as they file into Koi Tower ascertains his guess.
Jiang Xichen smiles superficially at the maidens, briefly and purposefully drawing their attention away from Lan Wanyin.
Behind him, the Jin disciples are busy ushering the newly arriving guests up onto the square.
"Moling Su Sect, please enter here."
"Qinghe Nie Sect, please enter here."
"Yunmeng Jiang Sect, please enter here."
Jiang Xichen stills at the name of his previous sect. He lowers his sight to the ground with a small rueful smile before glancing surreptitiously at the approaching cultivators, trying to yet also fearing, fearing that he would catch a glimpse of someone familiar—because despite having ample time, he'd still not properly thought about what he wants to or should say to Wei Wuxian yet.
With his understanding of the latter, Jiang Xichen has no doubt that he would want to hear the truth from him directly, regardless of whether Lan Wangji had already revealed his identity during his earlier visit to Lotus Pier.
Jiang Xichen knows that, knows that Wei Wuxian would most definitely forgive and accept him back despite everything, and that's exactly why he can't allow himself to come clean yet.
He was the one that casted Wei Wuxian aside, the one that ripped the orphan’s second family away, the one that forced the always carefree man to take on so many responsibilities he never wanted to inherit.
Simply put, he doesn't have the face to meet Wei Wuxian yet.
Unfortunately, Wei Wuxian had never been a man of patience and had never shook off his bad habit of always showing up at the worst possible timing.
"Lan Zhan!"
The dignified man leading the Yunmeng Jiang cultivators perks up with a bright grin. He darts nimbly across the brick-paved arena in a mass of purple robes, crimson hair ribbon and braided ponytail, leaping straight into Lan Wangji’s open arms.
All the cultivators around them avert their faces immediately, long since used to this but still determined to practice the concept of 'out of sight, out of mind'. Only Jiang Xichen, who had just recently came back after seven long years, still gapes in horror as the stoic brick of a human returns the hug with about as much adoration and emotional capacity as a frozen piece of scrap paper.
"Wei Ying."
"Lan Zhan!" Wei Wuxian exclaims again. He nestles his face into the curve of his husband's neck, completely unperturbed by the fact that they are in public.
Jiang Xichen shudders, goosebumps rising instantly.
How can Wei Wuxian bear to behave so much like an overgrown puppy when he can't even stand stepping into a one li2 radius of a dog?!
As if on cue, Wei Wuxian catches sight of both of them. He bounces over at once, looping a friendly arm around Lan Wanyin’s shoulders.
"Cheng-di, I haven’t seen you in quite a while! You used to come by Lotus Pier so often to hear all my wonderful stories!"
Jiang Xichen raises a brow at the mention of the word ‘stories’ while the tips of Lan Wanyin’s ears simply flare red instead.
“Wei-ge, that’s…”
“Yes, yes, I know. I won't reveal the intricate details of our spicy stories," Wei Wuxian continues, giving the younger man a mischievous wink and several hearty slaps to his chest before turning to Jiang Xichen and giving the man a once-over with a critical eye. "After all, we wouldn't want to scare off your new suitor, right?"
Jiang Xichen blinks twice, raising a finger to point at himself.
"Yes, you!" Wei Wuxian ascertains, taking a firm step forward. "You must be the one that Lan Zhan told me about—the one that is following my Cheng-di around like a housefly. Let me tell you, everyone who plans to woo my precious little brother here has to go through me first!"
Jiang Xichen takes a step backwards unobtrusively, hands raised in a placating manner. Didn't the Lan Sect have a rule against gossiping and lying?!
He glares up at Lan Wangji, only to find that the perpetrator had long since turned away, adamant on not meeting Jiang Xichen’s eyes.
I see. So that's how it is.
Jiang Xichen’s brow twitches.
Suddenly, a light amicable voice comes from behind them. "Is anything the matter?"
The owner of Koi Tower—Lianfang-zun, Jin Guangyao— has come out to greet them personally.
Wei Wuxian gives him a huge wave and smile in response, while Lan Wangji and Lan Wanyin offer polite nods. Jiang Xichen, on the other hand, chooses to remain lingering behind with the other Lan disciples and carefully observes the man who holds the title of Chief Cultivator; the man who both Song Hengyi and Nie Mingjue have a grudge on.
Truth be told, Jiang Xichen is curious. He is curious to see how Jin Guangyao has changed over the past seven years, how he has evolved from someone who would kill to protect his allies into someone who would kill his allies.
But to his surprise, Jin Guangyao hasn't changed much at all.
He still has the same passive demeanour, with eyes that appear lively but not frivolous, and the same shadow of a smile that always perches by the corners of his lips.
It is as if time has not left its mark on this man in the slightest.
"Sect Leader Lan, I have received your notice that your sect would be bringing two more guests. Unfortunately, we are still making preparations for their accommodation and meals, and so, we would like to have Lan er-gongzi and…"
"Lan Huan."
Lan Wanyin's throat becomes oddly parched at Jiang Xichen’s blatant usage of his family name. On the other hand, Jiang Xichen coolly keeps his eye contact with Jin Guangyao, hoping to glean any clues that might show that the latter recognises him, but comes up completely empty.
Jin Guangyao's smile widens. "And Lan Huan-gongzi's understanding. In the meantime, please do head over to and mingle at the Glamour Hall first. I hope you will enjoy your first Discussion Conference here at Lanling, Lan Huan-gongzi."
Jin Guangyao can remember the name, title, age, and appearance of a person after just one single encounter. Even after a few years, he will still be able to greet and converse with them without any fault. Yet now, Jin Guangyao is behaving as if this is indeed their very first meeting.
Is Jin Guangyao truly innocent?
Or is he just a master at acting and adept at deceit?
"Gusu Lan Sect, please," Jin Guangyao says, gesturing in the direction of a large ostentatious building with thick luxurious gold curtains adorning every single entrance.
Jiang Xichen glances at the Jin Sect Leader from the corner of his eye as he passes him by, but the latter merely continues smiling kindly and flawlessly. With no other way to press the matter, Jiang Xichen then pushes away his budding feelings of unease and follows the ushers to the banquet area.
The Glamour Hall, as its name suggests, is a spacious dining area that prides itself on opulence and splendour. A soft, red carpet lined with a gold trim extends from the entrance all the way to the far end of the hall, stretching past sandalwood tables lined up on both sides. Fair-faced maids adorned with embellished hoops and pretty jades around their full bosoms and dainty waists are assigned to each table, conscientiously pouring wine for the guests.
Jiang Xichen does not stand out at all with his current disguise as a measly Lan senior disciple amidst the sea of distinguished cultivators, and he revels in the lack of attention, happily retreating to a corner and waits with folded arms and tepid eyes as the Jins prepare his seat.
Lan Wanyin, the only person who would notice and approach him, comes over and stands by him, their shoulders nearly touching.
"You are not going to socialise?"
"I never really liked it," Jiang Xichen admits with a wry smile. "But—"
"But sometimes your family name will decide for you what you must do, what you can do, and what you can't do."
Jiang Xichen pauses momentarily in surprise, then lets out a soft chuckle. "Wanyin, you really do remember everything I said, don't you?"
"Not everything," Lan Wanyin concedes, glancing at the taller man from the corner of his smiling eyes. "But I will remember every single one from now on."
Not that there will be many more.
Both men know this—know it like how they know each throb of the ritual wounds and each trickle of blood that flows from it is a step closer Jiang Xichen takes towards death—but neither of them address the topic, not anymore.
Just then, Jin Guangyao steps into the hall with a woman dressed in lavish robes by his arm. She is Qin Su, the official wife of Jin Guangyao and the current mistress of Koi Tower.
Together with her husband, the two have become the living representation of a loving couple in the cultivation world for the past few years. Everything about them, from the way she fell irrevocably in love with Jin Guangyao during the Sunshot Campaign after he saved her life, to the way he took Qin Su as his one and only wife and had never let her down, is the subject of many people's secret envy.
Even the similar fashion in which the corners of their eyes crinkle when they smile have been seen as further proof that this is a match made in heaven.
Jiang Xichen silently takes in the way Jin Guangyao's expression brims tenderly with care as he holds her hand carefully in his, supporting her with every step, as though he is worried his wife would accidentally trip over the jade stairs. Qin Su returns her husband's concern with a heartfelt smile of adoration, and the two make their way to the foremost table in the Glamour Hall.
Jin Guangyao raises the cup of wine Qin Su fills for him.
"Here, I would like to toast everyone who is present. Thank you for taking the time to join this year's Discussion Conference. The two-week long activities will officially begin tomorrow, but tonight, let us all eat and drink our fill."
The crowd erupts into a mass of raucous cheers.
A line of men file in next, carrying identical trays with an elaborate ensemble of delicately plated dishes, which they set gingerly down before each guest. Dancers dressed in pink water sleeves and a group of pipa3 musicians take up positions in the middle of the Glamour Hall, effectively kickstarting the banquet.
Jiang Xichen leans back in his seat behind the Two Jades of Lan. All throughout the feast, the man keeps a keen eye out for anything suspicious within the hall, yet the only irregularity that occurred is the way an intoxicated Nie Huaisang throws himself at Jin Guangyao the moment the other man rises to his feet, shamelessly clinging on and refusing to let go.
"Yao-ge… Yao-ge, you must help me. Save me!"
Jiang Xichen raises a brow. Since when did Nie Huaisang and Jin Guangyao grow this close?
It has never been a secret that Jin Guangyao used to be Nie Mingjue’s right-hand man and had grown rather close to the Nie brothers. However, a subsequent falling out during the Sunshot Campaign forced the trio apart. The specific reason behind their animosity was never known but it was speculated that it was due to Jin Guangyao defecting and joining the Wens.
Yet, Nie Mingjue's distaste for Jin Guangyao does not let up even after Jin Guangshan stepped forward to proclaim that it was all part of an undercover plan. In fact, they grew even more hostile to the point that Nie Mingjue thoroughly forbade Nie Huaisang to have any further dealings with the man, and had berated his younger brother publicly on several accounts for this same reason.
Eventually, Jin Guangyao and Nie Huaisang ceased all forms of contact, and wouldn't even acknowledge each other's presence if Nie Mingjue was around.
But now that Nie Mingjue has passed…
It seems like Jin Guangyao instantly became the closest familial figure for the young man who was still wet behind his ears and inexperienced as a sect leader, and aided him with the making and solving of sect-related affairs.
Jiang Xichen props his chin up with a hand, staring wordlessly as his old friend lets out an unbecoming sob and grabs on fervently to both Jin Guangyao and Wei Wuxian's arm.
"What can I do? What should I do? I'm really at my wit's end. Can you two help me again? I promise this is the last time. I swear this will be the last time!"
Wei Wuxian pats the drunken man on his back with a cheery chuckle. “Nie-xiong, calm down and have a drink first! It's a banquet tonight, so we'll focus on having fun! Work can come after!"
"Wei-xiong, I am in no mood to have fun, my deputy has been nagging at me for days on end already!"
Wei Wuxian hums jovially under his breath, unconcerned.
Jin Guangyao is far more empathetic. "Wasn't the situation dealt with by the people I sent over earlier this month?"
Nie Huaisang bursts into tears. “You don’t understand, Yao-ge! The old problems are gone, but new problems popped up! If this goes on… If this goes on, I-I don’t want to live anymore!”
Looking at how this new issue appears to be something that probably can't be explained in a few words, Jin Guangyao then asks the concerned guests and Wei Wuxian to relax and enjoy the rest of the banquet before excusing himself to lead the bawling Nie Huaisang out of the Glamour Hall to listen to his grievances.
Jiang Xichen perks up at that.
If it were any other day, he would not have been suspicious of Jin Guangyao's conduct at all, but now that he is suspecting the Jin Sect Leader of having had a hand in Nie Mingjue’s death, witnessing any dealings between Nie Huaisang and the man instantly leaves him on tenterhooks.
Of course, he doesn't think that Nie Huaisang is in any immediate danger. There is no way Jin Guangyao would allow anything untoward to befall the Nie Sect Leader when they are alone because that would simply cast himself in suspicion, but the curiosity and determination to find out what Jin Guangyao might be plotting is simply too much to hold back.
Lan Wanyin catches his eye, mouthing the words 'be careful'.
Jiang Xichen rises to his feet with a nod and returns the gesture with an upward quirk of his lips. He leaves in an attempt to locate Jin Guangyao and Nie Huaisang, only to notice that both men have entered one of the Sect Leader’s residences—the Blooming Garden.
The qiankun pouch in his sleeve containing Nie Mingjue’s left arm twitches lightly, as if urging him on. However, there is no good way Jiang Xichen can easily bypass the well-armed cultivators standing guard outside the gates.
Troubled, but not disheartened, the man then slinks around the corner and presses his body flush against the wall, preparing to flip himself up onto the roof. But he has just lifted his feet off the ground when a child dressed in Lanling Jin's trademark yellow robes comes tumbling out from the nearby decorative stone garden. Jiang Xichen lands nimbly back on the balls of his feet, cautious. The teary-eyed boy stares silently for a moment, then puffs his reddened cheeks out with a huge gulp of air.
Cursing under his breath, Jiang Xichen hurriedly slaps a hand over the boy's mouth, scooping the child up and away before he can scream to alert the guards.
“L-Let me go!” the struggling kid hisses as they duck back into the stone garden, and sinks his teeth unceremoniously into Jiang Xichen's purlicue.4 Jiang Xichen loosens his hold instinctively, and the kid breaks free with that, dealing Jiang Xichen with a nasty kick at his knee on his way down.
"You—" Jiang Xichen gasps, aghast, face twisted in pain. He lifts his palm to assess the damage done. "What an underhanded move."
The child places his hands on his hips smugly and raises his nose into the air. "My jiujiu taught me that there is nothing such as an underhanded method or a dirty move as long as you win in the end!"
Jiang Xichen makes a face, brow twitching. "That's really some twisted piece of advice for a kid. Who's your uncle?"
"Do not insult my jiujiu!" The child stomps his tiny feet angrily on the ground, marching forward in an attempt to deliver another well-aimed kick at the older man, only for Jiang Xichen to grab him under his shoulders and hoist him off the ground at an arm’s length in the nick of time. “Put me down, you ruffian!”
The high ponytail behind the child’s head swishes as he kicks his limbs around wildly. The movement makes a bell stuffed into his sleeve fall out, and Jiang Xichen snags the familiar item out of the air reflexively.
The Yunmeng Jiang Bell of Clarity!
Jiang Xichen swallows dryly. "Are you… Are you Jin Ling?"
Jin Ling purses his lips, refusing to reply, but Jiang Xichen does not need a declaration to know the answer. He can see it in the child's almond-shaped eyes—those eyes which are nearly identical to Jiang Yanli's. The vermillion mark on his forehead and innate arrogance is a replica of Jin Zixuan’s, while his messy ponytail is telling of Wei Wuxian's own hairstyling skills.
A lump rises at the back of Jiang Xichen's throat.
"How have you been these past few years?"
It is a question Jiang Xichen knows he probably should not have asked the moment he voices it. The boy's large doe-like eyes overlap with those of his sister's last moments in his memories, before melting away to reveal bloodied hollow sockets and the stench of death.
"Return that to me, you scoundrel!" Jin Ling exclains indignantly, reddened cheeks puffed out as if he is about to cry. "That's from my mother!"
Return them to me.
"I… I just found it familiar and wanted to take a closer look."
Enraged, Jin Ling snatches the bell out from his shaking hand. "So? It's not yours!"
It's not yours anymore.
Jiang Xichen stumbles backwards as if burnt.
Jin Ling squints at Jiang Xichen’s uncharacteristic response.
Suddenly, a few shouts come from around them. About half a dozen children wearing Lanling Jin’s uniform leap out from the garden and slowly approach them. The one leading the group is a boy of around the same age but with a wider physique than Jin Ling. He eyes Jiang Xichen suspiciously, scrutinizing him from head to toe, before turning his attention back to Jin Ling.
“How dare you find reinforcements!”
Jin Ling frowns, crossing his arms over his chest with a dignified huff as he steps away from Jiang Xichen, illustrating clearly that they are not in the same team. "How dare the pot call the kettle black! Look carefully, Jin Chan. I am not the one lugging along with an entire group of rowdy hooligans!”
The vein on Jin Chan’s temple throbs menacingly. “What did you call us?!”
Neither party has seen the other in a good light to begin with. Yet, now that Jin Ling has seemingly taken the first step to provoke them with name-calling, the humiliated Jin Chan and his lackeys quickly shred away any remaining pretence at amiability. A number of the boys on Jin Chan’s side hurriedly pick up pebbles, sauntering over like hungry predators stalking their prey as they circle around the unarmed Jin Ling.
Jin Ling refuses to back down, not even moving a single inch. “If you want a fight, then let’s have a fight! You think I’m scared of you?! I'll show you that quality is better than quantity!"
One of the boys scoffs. “Quality? All you have is a little dog!"
"That's right! I'm saying that even a puppy is better than the lot of you!" Jin Ling sneers. He gives a sharp whistle next and an answering bark sounds in the distance, followed by a loud rustling of leaves in the bushes.
Jin Chan inclines his head, distracted by the sound, and Jin Ling seizes the chance to go in for the kill. He swipes his foot on the ground, drawing an arc that sends sand up and into the eyes of his closest foes.
The young Jin heir leans his entire body back, supporting his weight with both arms on the ground, and awaits for Jin Chan to make a move first. The moment the blinded latter charges rashly at him, Jin Ling springs back up like a soft willow in the wind and sweeps his leg out again, tripping Jin Chan and making him eat a mouthful of sand.
Jin Ling steps on the back of the fallen Jin Chan and haughtily proclaims, "Look! Even if I don't call Little Fairy, I can still beat all of you up into a bloody pulp with just a finger!"
Unexpectedly, instead of becoming demoralised after witnessing Jin Chan’s defeat, his lackeys become offended at the dishonour to their leader, and they all charge towards Jin Ling together with a bellowing warcry. Jin Ling has always trained in martial arts one-on-one with Wei Wuxian—and it is obvious that the boy lacks the much needed experience in fighting with a mob.
Realising that his two fists are barely a match for the flurry of punches and kicks that steadily forces him backwards, Jin Ling instantly loses his earlier confidence and begrudgingly goes on the defensive. Noticing the opening, the thugs follow up by tossing their pebbles out at Jin Ling all at once, trying to land at least a single hit on him.
Jin Ling ducks with his keen reflexes and nimble body, sidestepping the first two by spinning cleanly out of the way, then deflecting the third by changing its trajectory with his own thrown pebble. However, a fourth stone which comes hurtling in from Jin Ling's blind spot, speeds towards the middle of his back, only for Jiang Xichen to intercept it with a light downward tap of his scabbard before it connects with its target.
"You… Didn't Jin Ling say that you two aren't working together?!" Jin Chan gasps, flabbergasted at Jiang Xichen’s interference.
Jiang Xichen retracts his borrowed sword and crosses his arms. "We aren't, but he's still the nephew of my Sect Leader. Surely, I can't possibly stand around and see you injure him before my eyes, can I?"
Nevertheless, Jin Ling is completely unappreciative of his assistance. "Get lost, I didn't ask for your help!"
The corners of Jiang Xichen's lips quirk skywards at the feisty response. All at once, he lunges forward and grabs the Jin Sect heir's hand. Before Jin Ling even has the chance to react, he feels an overwhelming force press onto his wrist that forces his knees to buckle and his body to collapse heavily onto the ground.
Enraged, Jin Ling whips his head around to glare at Jiang Xichen. "Why do you keep getting in my way? Do you want to die?! Wait till I tell my jiujiu about this! He will certainly not let you off!"
Jin Chan and his underlings shudder and take a step back at the mention of Wei Wuxian, but Jiang Xichen doesn't even budge.
"Did you catch that?"
Jin Ling furrows his brows. "What?"
Jiang Xichen presses down on that same spot again, sending another wave of numbing pain travelling from Jin Ling’s wrist down to his entire body. “Did you catch it this time?”
Jin Ling does not answer.
“Look carefully, I’ll only demonstrate it once more,” Jiang Xichen instructs, gesturing with his chin at the boy who is rushing over at them. Then, with one hand behind his back, Jiang Xichen agilely skirts by the boy’s outstretched arm, and uses merely one finger on his other hand to tap lightly at the boy’s wrist. Within the twinkling of an eye, the Jin child is brought to ground.
Jin Ling springs up to his feet in high spirits. This time, he clearly saw what went on, and the aching part on his wrist also indicated exactly which acupoint he should be targeting. Mirroring Jiang Xichen’s move earlier, Jin Ling manages to reverse the situation in an instant, filling the garden with frustrated cries of pain that eventually ebb into a trail of curses as the boys flee in defeat with their tails between their legs. Jin Ling, on the other hand, splits his sides laughing behind them.
Jiang Xichen pats the boy on his shoulder. “Look at you, grinning so happily. Is this your first time winning?”
“I’ve always won one-on-one fights. But Jin Chan calls a bunch of helpers every single time. He’s got no face!” Jin Ling spits angrily, scrunching his brows as if the mere thought of the other boy disgusts him. Then, he clears his throat. “Hey, where did you learn this move from?”
“Why, of course it is from your jiujiu. Did he not teach you?”
“No. If I asked jiujiu to teach me these, then I would have to tell him the reason why I want to learn it, but Jiujiu… He still doesn’t know that I don’t get along with Jin Chan and the rest…”
“You don’t want him to know?” Jiang Xichen raises a finger to his chin, deep in thought. "Could it be because you are afraid that Sect Leader Wei would wreak havoc and terrorise all the people who pick on you?”
“That’s not it! I just don’t want jiujiu to be sad.”
“Sad?”
Jin Ling shuffles his feet. “Well, Jiujiu always looks a little sad whenever the topic of the Yiling Patriarch comes up."
Jiang Xichen lets out a sharp exhale.
Jin Ling does not notice it. "Jiujiu doesn't like it when people talk bad things about the Yiling Patriarch, especially when they say that he killed my parents."
"But it is the undeniable truth that he did." Jiang Xichen’s voice sounds strained, strangled. "In fact, he didn't only kill your parents, but many others too. Because of him, many people lost their sons, their husbands, and their fathers overnight. The Yiling Patriarch is a terrible person."
Jin Ling stomps his feet. "He is not! E-Even if the Yiling Patriarch killed my parents… Even if he did, Jiujiu said… said the Yiling Patriarch had his reasons, that he didn’t want to do it! My Jiujiu would never lie to me! So no matter what you and the others say, I believe that the Yiling Patriarch is not a bad person at heart!"
"Indeed, A-Ling's jiujiu would definitely never lie to you."
Jiang Xichen whips his head around at Lan Wanyin's voice and spots the man at once, his stark white attire protruding like a sore thumb against the lush green and bright gold backdrop. Their eyes meet—molten amber against steel blue—and Lan Wanyin holds it with a soft smile.
"The Yiling Patriarch was not a bad person. People will always look at the result and judge him for his sins, but your jiujiu is different. Your jiujiu grew up together with him. He knew the man before he even became the Yiling Patriarch, so your jiujiu is able to understand his friend's unwavering heart and resolve to protect his family, better than anyone else."
Jiang Xichen drops his gaze, hanging his head.
Jin Ling perks up at the voice instead, his countenance brightening immediately. He rushes forward with a huge grin on his face, leaping straight into Lan Wanyin's outstretched arms when the latter lowers himself on a knee. "Gege!"
Lan Wanyin gives Jin Ling several soft pats on the head. "A-Ling missed me?"
Jin Ling pulls away and nods his head vigorously. "You said you were going to come visit me last month but you never came by!"
Lan Wanyin blinks, glancing up to Jiang Xichen then back to Jin Ling. "I apologise, I got distracted by some matters." Lan Wanyin reaches into his sleeve and takes out a straw butterfly. “I remember that you mentioned you wanted one the last time you saw Sizhui playing with them, so I gave you one that that gege there made. Do you like it?”
Jin Ling gingerly cradles the toy Lan Wanyin hands him and stares over at Jiang Xichen in disbelief. “He knows how to make one?”
Lan Wanyin nods, a glint of mirth dancing in the depths of his eyes. “Of course. Don’t be fooled by his dressing. This gege is a master at playing mischief."
"I know! Jiujiu told me that although you Lan cultivators may appear to be pristine young masters on the surface, you are all actually hungry and ferocious beasts in hiding!"
Jiang Xichen and Lan Wanyin sputter, choking on air.
Wei Wuxian! What have you been teaching Jin Ling these seven years?! Jiang Xichen finds himself seething internally, yet thankfully, Jin Ling appears to have not comprehended the hidden meaning behind Wei Wuxian’s innuendo at all, and is preoccupied with the straw butterfly until he hears a woman's voice in the distance.
"Young Master Jin! There you are, Young Master Jin! We’ve been searching all day for you!"
A flurry of footsteps come towards them, revealing a middle-aged woman flanked by five senior Jin cultivators rushing towards them.
Jin Ling hides behind Lan Wanyin at once. "That's my nanny. She must have found out that I snuck out and brought guards to capture and punish me!”
Jiang Xichen squints at once, trying to discern who this barbaric-sounding woman who would dare to punish his nephew is. On the other hand, Lan Wanyin has long since been used to Jin Ling's exaggerated complaints and doesn't pay them much heed.
"It's getting late. It's time for A-Ling to go to bed. If you don't sleep well, you can't grow tall."
"But I've just met with you! I still want to talk and play more!"
"We can do that another day. A-Ling will be heading to Lotus Pier with your jiujiu after this Discussion Conference, right? There are definitely more fun things to do there than here. We can go boating, swimming, or guess lantern riddles."
"But Sizhui will be there too…."
Lan Wanyin chuckles. "That's not a problem. I will bring this gege along when I visit, and have him distract Sizhui."
Jin Ling eyes Jiang Xichen with suspicion. "He knows Sizhui?"
"Of course he does. Jiang Sizhui is adopted by my xiongzhang and your jiujiu. This gege here has seen Sizhui before when he was younger. In fact, they even lived together for a short period of time."
Jiang Xichen’s eyes widen a fraction.
Meanwhile, Jin Ling pouts, finally deciding to give in. He clutches the straw butterfly tightly to his chest and ventures to peek over his shoulder every few steps as his nanny and guards lead him back to his quarters.
Jiang Xichen helps Lan Wanyin to his feet.
"You didn't need to chase Jin Ling away that suddenly. It seems as though he was pretty lonely."
"I know, but some things can't be helped. Xichen, you might not know this yet but Lianfang-zun once had a son. If he didn't lose his life in someone else's dark ploy, he would be around A-Ling's age now."
Jiang Xichen inclines his head. "A ploy? Who would plot against the young master of Koi Tower and risk turning the Lanling Jin Sect into their enemy?"
Lan Wanyin gestures for them to walk, and they stroll at a leisurely pace through the rock garden.
"Back then, the Lanling Jin Sect had not fully amassed their power and supporters yet. However, Lianfang-zun was still adamant in pushing for his Lookout Tower plan, believing that it would benefit the commoners."
"But the construction of such towers would naturally and inevitably impinge on the territories of other sects," Jiang Xichen finishes the sentence for his companion. "So what Wanyin is saying, is that the displeased sect leaders got together and killed Jin Guangyao's son?"
"Indeed. One of the opposing sect’s leaders went into a murderous rage after losing an argument and Lianfang-zun's son, Jin Rusong, was caught in the crossfire. Blinded by resentment, Lianfang-zun tore down their entire sect in revenge. On the other hand, his wife was too overcome with grief and has not been able to bear another child ever since."
Jiang Xichen sighs.
With the secondary purpose of this particular Discussion Conference being to celebrate the success of the Lookout Towers, it is completely understandable why the entire Jin Sect is playing it more cautiously when it comes to Jin Ling.
Lan Wanyin slows his pace, shortening his strides, and comes to a complete stop beside Jiang Xichen. "Have you found any clues pertaining to our investigation?"
"No," Jiang Xichen lies, keeping the qiankun pouch's reaction a secret. "Not yet."
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
"Paper metamorphosis?" Lan Wanyin questions when Jiang Xichen sets a paperman cut-out on the table before him. It has a round head and unusually long sleeves that resemble butterfly wings, as well as several brushstrokes across its belly that forms a concise array.
Arrays have always been Lan Wanyin's specialty. Despite having no prior knowledge regarding the technique, he can already immediately see through its essence and correctly identify the origin and purpose of this dark art.
Lan Wanyin's face darkens.
Jiang Xichen clears his throat. "It's a necessary evil. The banquet has already ended. There is no longer any reason for us to freely walk around. Besides, there are many places that would be impossible for a large, living human to enter, but easy for a small inconspicuous paperman to slip into."
"Still, this methodology requires you to transfer your soul onto a thin and fragile piece of paper. It is too dangerous."
Indeed, Lan Wanyin has hit the nail on the head.
Although this technique is incredibly useful, it comes with a number of drawbacks as well. Not only is the duration of the spell strictly limited, the paperman must also return in one complete piece. If it were to be torn apart or broken in any way, then the soul would receive the same degree of harm, and the recorded details of such effects range from a year of unconsciousness to a whole lifetime of lunacy, thus, making the stakes unbelievably high for the caster.
Unfortunately, Jiang Xichen does not have any other options.
From what he had seen of the security outside the Blooming Garden, Jiang Xichen can only imagine how much more guarded the Fragrant Palace—the bedchamber of the Lanling Jin’s Sect Leader—would be.
"Don't worry too much, Wanyin. I'll be back before the incense burns out," Jiang Xichen promises, gesturing at the intricately carved incense burner on the table which is releasing soothing curls of jasmine-scented smoke.
Lan Wanyin pinches his brows together, unconvinced, but eventually relents with a curt nod.
Grinning, Jiang Xichen immediately sets the calligraphy brush aside and lies down on the bed. Less than a minute later, the paperman twitches. Within a few trembles, it peels itself up into a standing position and climbs onto the flat of the Lan cultivator’s outstretched palm.
Lan Wanyin lifts his palm up, staring solemnly straight at the paperman. “I know whatever I say now wouldn’t make a difference, so just make sure that you exercise prudence. If you find any clues or sense any danger, come back immediately.”
The paperman nods his head in agreement. Lan Wanyin looks like he has more to say, but the paperman clambers forward and presses the tips of both hands gently against Lan Wanyin’s bottom lip. Lan Wanyin movement stills for a moment, and Jiang Xichen takes that chance to leave.
He flaps his arms and the thin paper cut-out surges towards the front door. Jiang Xichen casts a final glance back at Lan Wanyin before he flattens his body and passes right through the slit and out of the guest room.
Once out, he glides on the wind to steer his way in the direction of the Blooming Garden. At times, he curls his body up, pretending to be a leaf sailing with the breeze. At other times, he spreads his arms wide, disguising himself as a butterfly dancing amid the night sky.
Before Jiang Xichen knows it, he has already touched down on the top of the outer wall he had previously wanted to flip himself over before Jin Ling's untimely interruption. Gingerly, he peers over the roof of the Blooming Garden and is relieved to spot Jin Guangyao and an unscathed Nie Huaisang still seated in the living room, with the latter continuing to yell about a flurry of unimportant affairs.
Convinced that Nie Huaisang's whining session would take quite a while more, Jiang Xichen then flies out of the Blooming Garden and towards the Fragrant Palace—a grandiose five-ridged palace in the distance, determined to use the Nie Sect Leader's coincidental distraction to its fullest potential.
However, it becomes increasingly obvious that things wouldn't go that smoothly the moment Jiang Xichen draws near.
Large groups of guards are assigned to patrol the grounds, their routes meticulously designed to leave no place unattended at any given point in time. Furthermore, numerous arrays have also been packed into the space both above and below the palace, blocking the entry of any unwanted personnel.
Jiang Xichen has no plausible chance of ever being able to break these arrays with his current physical state. Fortunately, they are not specifically targeted against naked souls, and their restrictive effects against the paperman are considerably less, thus allowing the latter to slip through the door slit after a period of trial-and-error.
He enters on high alert, expecting to see even stricter guards or stronger arrays inside the residence, but to his surprise, what he finds is the complete opposite.
The interior of the Fragrant Palace is completely unguarded.
Apart from its spotless state as well as a beast-shaped incense burner in the middle of the room exuding aromatic smoke, it would almost appear as if the building is uninhabited. There are no signs of any clutter or mess in the neat room, no traces of it being lived-in. Every object has its own place, and has been diligently returned to its original spot after every use.
Jiang Xichen climbs up the length of the layered gauze curtains next to him and cranes around the tall extravagant ornaments to search for anything suspicious within the main hall, but the only thing that catches his eye is an envelope placed under an agate paperweight.
Unlike the other objects in the hall, the placement of this envelope appears rather haphazard with the paperweight left off-centre. Upon closer inspection, Jiang Xichen notices that the envelope itself is also severely creased, as if someone had first crumpled then straightened it before hurriedly leaving the envelope on the desk. There are no names or crests on it, yet judging from its thickness, it obviously isn’t empty.
Could it be a trap?
Jiang Xichen circles several times around the paperweight, deep in contemplation, but hastily draws back when a side door of the palace is pushed open.
Alarmed, he ducks behind the calligraphy ink stone and slowly inches off the table to cling motionlessly at a corner of the desk, formulating an escape plan in the back of his head.
Fortunately, the person that enters is not Jin Guangyao, but Qin Su. Yet, everything about her seems oddly abnormal. Unlike her lively and glowing countenance at the banquet earlier, her face right now is paler than snow, drained of all blood. Her figure is also on the verge of collapsing, her steps unsteady. All in all, Qin Su appears as if she had just suffered a substantial shock and has yet to fully recover from its effects.
Leaning against the door, she stands blankly for a long moment before making her way over to the desk with long, determined strides. However, she comes to a complete halt before the table and simply eyes the envelope under the agate paperweight with an unreadable expression. She reaches out for it a moment later, bottom lip quivering, then retracts her hand.
Out of the blue, she lets out an agonized scream suddenly and snatches the envelope up, only to toss it onto the ground immediately after. Her other hand spasms as it digs into the front of her robe in an attempt to hold her emotions back, before she finally gives in and kicks the envelope away.
Jiang Xichen’s eyes light up when he notices the package skidding within reach, but before he can devise a plan to peek at its contents, a bone-chilling voice echoes through the palace.
"A-Su, what are you doing?"
Qin Su spins around.
A familiar figure is standing a mere few feet behind her. There is no difference in his usual smiling expression, but his eyes seem to contain a layer of biting frost.
Unnerved, Qin Su immediately dives to the ground, grabbing the letter. Jiang Xichen can only cling tightly to the corner of the table and watch as the letter moves out of his sight once again.
Jin Guangyao takes a step forward. “A-Su, what is that in your hand?”
His tone is as kind as ever, as though he noticed neither the strange letter in Qin Su’s hand nor the distorted expression on her face. The way he phrases the question makes it sound like he is merely asking about a trivial matter, but the air in the room has already settled heavily.
Alarm bells blare in Jiang Xichen’s mind.
When Qin Su does not reply, Jin Guangyao takes another step towards her. “You don’t look too well. What’s wrong?”
Qin Su holds up the letter and speaks with a trembling voice. “I… I met with somebody…”
Jin Guangyao does not even falter. “Who?”
Qin Su continues as though she had not even heard her husband speak. “This person told me a few things about you, and gave me this letter.”
Jin Guangyao laughs. “Are you really going to believe the lies others tell you? You know what occasion today is, A-Su. You should understand that there are many people trying to foil things for us on this day.”
“It couldn’t have been a lie. That person would definitely not lie to me! If you insist on claiming that the things written on this letter is a lie then—”
“A-Su, if you don’t let me see the letter, how can I know what is written on it?”
Qin Su tosses the letter in Jin Guangyao’s face. “Fine! Read it then! Tell me that none of this is true! Tell me that all of these are fabricated lies!”
Jin Guangyao's expression does not change in the slightest after scanning through the text. Not even a single trace of a shadow falls over his face. In a cool confident tone, he replies, “None of this is true. All of it is a lie. Everything here is complete nonsense.”
Qin Su breaks down completely, sobbing and heaving while screaming. “You’re lying! Things are already like this but you’re still lying to me!"
“A-Su, you were the one who told me to say so. Now that I’ve said the exact words you wanted, you refuse to believe me.”
"What I wanted isn't for you to say what I wish to hear, but for you to tell me the truth!"
"It is the truth."
Qin Su backs away, covering her face. “Oh Heavens… Oh… Oh! You, You really… Jin Guangyao, you truly are scary! How could you? How could you?!” Her back meets a pillar, and she suddenly turns to the side to vomit. She heaves heavily, retching as though she intends on puking all her intestines out.
Jiang Xichen is shocked speechless and remains in his original position, simply watching. It doesn’t take too much for him to realise that Qin Su was probably throwing up in her room when he first arrived here.
However, what takes him completely by surprise is the intensity of her reaction. Although he is not familiar with Qin Su, they had met several times in the past since they were both descendants of prominent clans. Although Qin Su’s personality is naïve, she has lived a comfortable life and was taught excellent manners. Such a person would never act in such a mad, violent way, unless…
He eyes the letter that is still in Jin Guangyao’s hand.
Just what on earth is written in the letter?
Was it that Jin Guangyao killed someone and dismembered them? That Jin Guangyao had something to do with Nie Mingjue’s death? But it is public knowledge that Jin Guangyao and Nie Mingjue are arch enemies. Even if it is shocking that her husband killed a fellow Sect Leader—is it enough to have her react this way?
Jin Guangyao nonchalantly dips the letter over the nine-lotus branched candle stand, allowing it to slowly burn. Watching the ashes fall to the ground bit by bit, he then speaks in a somewhat dejected tone, “A-Su, we have been married for so many years. As a husband, I’d like to think that I have treated you well. So the fact that you are acting like this now, really hurts my feelings.”
Qin Su has nothing left to vomit. She whimpers on the ground.
“You treat me well… You do treat me well… But I… I’d rather I never met you! No wonder you’ve never… ever since, ever since then, you’ve never… You did such a horrible thing. If you can bring yourself to kill A-Song, why didn’t you kill me too?!”
Jin Guangyao kneels beside his wife. “A-Su, are you so ill that you got muddle-headed? Our A-Song was kidnapped and killed by others. I have already destroyed the ones who killed our son in revenge. Shouldn’t you be the one that knows best?”
“I did know. But now, I’m starting to think that everything I knew was a lie.”
Jin Guangyao’s face begins to show signs of fatigue. “What are you thinking of? A-Song is my son. Do you think I’ll harm him? You’d rather believe a letter from an unknown person than me?”
Qin Su pulls at her hair, shrieking. “You are scary precisely because he is your son!”
“Tell me, who did you meet today? Who gave you the letter? Who is the one planting such falsities in your mind?”
“You… What are you planning to do…?”
“See, if the person can tell you, then they can also tell others. If they can write one letter, then they can also write a second. I can’t allow that to happen.”
Qin Su scoffs, leaning back against the pillar. “I might be naïve, but I am not stupid. If I tell you, then you’d kill us both.”
A mourning warmth fills Jin Guangyao’s eyes. “I know that you won’t believe me no matter what I say, but it was sincere back then. I didn’t have another path to walk. I wanted to keep you in the dark for your whole life. I wanted to make you happy, to grow old and frail with you. But now, it has been entirely ruined by the person who told you these.”
Qin Su sobs, burying her head into her arms. “How can you still speak such blandishments?!”
“I am speaking the truth. I have always remembered that you have never said anything about my background or my mother. I am grateful for you until the end of my life, and I wanted to respect you, cherish you, love you. But you have to know that even if A-Song hadn’t been killed, he still had to die. He could only die. If we let him grow up, then you and I…”
With the mention of her son, Qin Su couldn’t bear it any longer. With a raise of her hand, she slaps him across the face. “Then who is the one that did all of this?! Just what can’t you do for this position of yours?!”
Jin Guangyao accepts the slap without any hesitation. A crimson handprint immediately appears on his fair cheek.
“A-Su, before you knew of all these, didn’t we live together perfectly fine? You only felt uncomfortable after you found out. It's all in your mind. If you agree to keep it all a secret, I promise I won't harm you. I will treat you the same as before."
Qin Su shakes her head, her face ashen.
The smile on Jin Guangyao’s face disappears. “It seems that you are feeling quite unwell. Your father has already gone on a journey to cultivate. I’ll send you off sometime soon as well so you can enjoy being in your father’s company. "
Jin Guangyao hoists Qin Su forcefully up to her feet. Jiang Xichen can’t see exactly what he did from this angle, but Qin Su suddenly collapses limply in his arms, and Jin Guangyao drags his immobile wife into the layering curtains.
The paperman hastily sneaks out from under the table and follows them just in time to see Jin Guangyao resting his hand over a full-length copper mirror. A moment later, his fingers somehow enter the mirror, like breaking through the surface of a pool of water. Qin Su’s eyes are wide open, pupils dilated, lips parted in a silent scream as her husband hauls her into the mirror.
Knowing that this contraption would likely not be able to be opened by anyone other than Jin Guangyao himself, Jiang Xichen roughly calculated the timing and quickly leaps inside, into a secret room.
After Jin Guangyao enters, the oil lamps on the walls ignite on their own. The dim light illuminates shelves and cabinets of different sizes. On them are books, scrolls, stones, weapons, as well as several instruments of torture: iron rings, sharp spikes, silver hooks, and an iron table—dark to the eyes, cold to the touch, long enough for a person to lie, and covered with black dried-up traces on its surface.
Jin Guangyao helps Qin Su onto the table. Her body trembles violently as Jin Guangyao straightens a few tangled strands of her hair.
“Don’t be scared. You shouldn’t walk around in such a state when there will be so many people around during the next few days. Why don’t you rest for a bit? You can come back as soon as you tell me who the person is. Don’t worry, I didn’t seal all of your meridians. Although you can't move or speak, you should still be able to nod. Nod if you wish to tell me.”
Qin Su’s eyes roll toward her husband. Her irises are filled with fear, pain, and despair.
Jin Guangyao's eyes grow cold. "It's fine if you need some time to think about it, I'll give you time. But you should know better than anyone else that I am not a very patient man. I might not be able to do anything to you right now, but no one will suspect a thing if you pass away from an illness after the Discussion Conference."
Qin Su's body twitches.
"Don't glare at me like that, A-Su. I remember that you said you might be naïve but not stupid, but you are wrong. You are both naïve and stupid. You think that I will not be able to find out who passed you that letter if you keep silent, but you have already given me the clue yourself. Think about it. Your mother tried her best to keep this secret, so how many people would possibly know about us being half-siblings?"
Jiang Xichen feels his heart stutter to a pause.
Half-siblings?! Then that would mean that Jin Guangshan and Qin Su’s mother… but…
All of a sudden, Jin Guangyao spins around in alarm as if he noticed something. With several swift steps and scrutinizing eyes, he then checks the entire room. Fortunately, Jiang Xichen had managed to insert his thin paper body into a book just in the nick of time, and although Jin Guangyao is more alert than others, he wouldn’t be paranoid enough to flip open an entire shelf of books just to check.
He remains motionless within the loose pages, passing time by glancing through the text, and that is when he notices that the characters in the book are in his own handwriting. Looking at the content with more care, Jiang Xichen manages to make out the phrases ‘different from possession’, ‘revenge’, and ‘forced contract’.
This is obviously an article regarding the Sacrificial Ritual, which Jiang Xichen remembers intensively researching at some point after Jin Zixuan’s death, but later casted aside because he himself determined that the only spirits which could be summoned through this method are heinous ones.
Jiang Xichen squirms out of the manuscripts when Jin Guangyao turns his back, and inches his way up the shelf, hoping to get a bird’s-eye view. However, what catches his eye is a dark curtain draped around one of the layers. The curtain itself is covered in sinister, blood-red runes, forming the array for a strong talisman of forbiddance.
What could likely be hidden under it?
Quite possibly incriminating evidence for Jin Guangyao’s crimes.
With a sense of foreboding bubbling inside Jiang Xichen, the paperman inches closer to the curtains, only to squeeze back into the shelf when he hears Jin Guangyao speak, right between two title deeds for household and land.
It is strange to say the least. Why would Jin Guangyao store the title deeds on the same shelf as the Yiling Patriarch's manuscripts, which are considered prized war trophies?
Jiang Xichen edges closer, but no matter how he looks at them, these two deeds are mere yellowing pages, with no tricks or codes on them. If the importance doesn't lie in the deed itself, then it can only be with the location—a plot of land in Yunmeng's Yunping town.
The legs at Yunping have nothing to do with me. This was what Xue Yang had once let slip at Yi city, and the fact that there is a title deed for the same city kept in such a secret location is likely not a coincidence. Noting, that, Jiang Xichen then commits the aforementioned location in Yunmeng's Yunping city to memory, before peeking his head out to check Jin Guangyao’s whereabouts.
Noting that the Sect Leader is not anywhere near him at the moment, the impatient Jiang Xichen resumes his climbing journey up the wall again. He finally reaches the shelf covered by the talisman of forbiddance and slips under it, but before he could examine what lies within, the scene before his eyes suddenly lights up.
"Were you the one that was looking at me?" Jin Guangyao's tone is strange, as if he did not expect an answer to his question.
Regardless, Jiang Xichen freezes tensely, thinking that he had been exposed.
“Of course it can’t be you. I forgot I sealed your sight.” Jin Guangyao’s tone turns bitter, and he lowers the curtain with a scoff.
Jiang Xichen remains motionless, hearing Jin Guangyao’s footsteps echo as he returns to Qin Su’s side. It is only when he hears Jin Guangyao speaking to Qin Su again that he dares to circle around to the front of the object, his heart sinking when he realises that his suspicion had been correct.
The object is indeed a dismembered head.
Nie Mingjue’s head.
Notes:
1. Ruyi stairs: A style that has a larger and wider base and becomes smaller as it goes higher up the stairs like a pyramid-style. This is the link in ExR translations Back
2. li: A measurement value, each li is approximately 0.5 km Back
3. Water sleeves: Used in chinese opera and dances. The sleeves have extensions past the cuff of the garment and can be used to produce movements similar to ripples of water. | Pipa: A chinese four-stringed musical instrument Back
4. Purlicue: The space between one’s forefinger and thumb Back***
“Wanyin, you’ve grown up. Not only have you gotten taller and wiser, you have also learned how to lie. I don’t remember making a straw butterfly on our way here.”
Lan Wanyin pauses in his tracks at the stone garden in Lanling, turning around to stare into Jiang Xichen’s eyes. “I did not lie. I never said you made it on our way here.”
Jiang Xichen returns the other man’s stare with a challenging one of his own as he crosses his arms over his chest. When could it be if not on their way here? “Then when—”
Lan Wanyin rolls his eyes, turning away with a swivel of his sleeves. “Think.”
Jiang Xichen makes a face. “Fine fine, then would Mr. I-will-never-lie Lan, tell me what Jin Ling meant then?” He closes the distance between them in a matter of seconds, the brimming urge to tease Lan Wanyin overwhelming even their sense of awkwardness. “What kind of hungry and ferocious beast are you?”
***
“Ge! We… We finally succeeded!” Wei Wuxian exclaims in glee as he skips into Lotus Pier.
It has been a long time since they returned. Although there are many bodies of Wen cultivators lying in the thick snow, and the flag that flies high above bears the motif of a red sun instead of a purple lotus; although the interior has changed, ruined by fire and dyed darker with splatters of blood, it is still undeniably their home.
Jiang Xichen stumbles, body shaking from the overwhelming emotions and fatigue, but he supports himself against a pillar, refusing to allow himself to fall.
Two weeks. He had been pushing himself to trap all the Wens inside the city with a veil of resentment energy for an entire two weeks before they succumbed and surrendered—just for this, for this moment alone.
Jiang Xichen steps past the threshold into the house he grew up in. Everything has changed, yet at the time, it seems as if nothing has changed.
The white stone bench in the courtyard that his father always meditates on, the pavilion overlooking the training grounds that his mother and sister always wait at, and the lotus lakes he and Wei Wuxian always plays in—everything is still intact. It is as if it were just yesterday that he and Wei Wuxian left.
But Jiang Xichen knows that it's all just a false impression.
It has been a long year, perhaps even more than a mere single year, and the burning desire to reclaim his home has burned and dwindled into a necessity. Everything that had made him human, everything that bound him to his identity of being a Jiang had been corroded throughout this period until there is nothing left but a mere skeleton of duties.
Walking into Lotus Pier now ascertains this.
Where there had been joy, now lies a bottomless pit of emptiness. He can no longer feel.
"We are finally home!" Wei Wuxian yells in joy, pulling Jiang Xichen into a heartfelt hug filled with tears and snot, but all that echoes in the latter's mind is the voices of the dark energy inhabiting his body, distorting his thoughts.
Is yours worth it then? Worth losing your humanity over?
Wen Qing had once asked him that, and Jiang Xichen had been certain that it was back then. It had to be, it could only be, because this was the path he chose.
This was the path he condemned himself to.
Jiang Xichen returns the embrace with a pat to Wei Wuxian’s shoulder. His lips tilt into a tired smile, his hands shiver in the cold, but he can no longer bring himself to cry.
"Yes, we are finally home."
But he realises, there is no place for him here anymore.
Lotus Pier is no longer his home.
Chapter 23: Recrimination II
Notes:
This is essentially a chapter about the Empathy performed on NMJ's head. I have left out some scenes which are exactly the same as canon (i.e. explanation of how Jin Guangshan and Meng Shi, Jin Guangyao's mother, met and the Jins kicking Meng Yao off Koi Tower when he came by with the keepsake during Jin Zixuan's birthday). Instead, I am focusing on the changes for this fic, which would be more animosity between Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao, etc.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
<PRESENT>
As Jiang Xichen had expected, the final piece of Nie Mingjue’s body—his head, is indeed being kept by Jin Guangyao, making it the indisputable evidence that the Jin sect leader had a hand in Nie Mingjue’s death. If he were to reveal this to the masses gathered at Lanling for the Conference, Jiang Xichen has no doubt that the other three Great Sects would unite and demand for an investigation into the matter.
However, the issue lies with how to pull that off.
If he leads a group over claiming that Nie Mingjue is kept here, then he would have to explain how he found out about the secret room in the first place. This would inevitably lead to him admitting that he had used Paper Metamorphosis, a dark technique that is banned from the cultivation world alongside demonic cultivation. It would be one thing if the result affected him alone, but since he is disguising himself as part of Gusu Lan, they will likely be seen as accomplices too.
The second method which he can think of off the top of his head right now is to remove the seal on Nie Mingjue’s head. In this way, the remaining dismembered portions will be able to sense the missing part and come looking for its own. However, by removing the restrictive talismans, the sealed resentment energy would all be released at once. Jin Guangyao would definitely notice him then. With his obvious disadvantage as a paperman, the prospect of him escaping from the secret room and returning in one piece thereafter will be bleak.
Two choices—but neither are fully viable.
With a heavy heart, Jiang Xichen takes in the sight of the helmet covering Nie Mingjue’s ears to prevent him from hearing, the talisman pasted over his mouth to stop him from speaking, and the crimson scrawl over ashen skin, stretching from his yintang acupoint1 down over closed lids, to take away his sight.
Jiang Xichen sighs.
Nie Mingjue had always been akin to a free man on the vast plains of Qinghe and an invincible general on the battlefield during the Sunshot Campaign. He does not like mindless fighting, but hates sitting still even more. Yet now, he ended up being forcefully sealed under layers upon layers of talismans, trapped within a cramped, dismal room, unable to see the light ever again.
How truly ironic.
Jiang Xichen takes a step closer to Nie Mingjue, towards the man he was never particularly close with, but still heavily respected and looked up to as a comrade.
Nie Mingjue’s eyes fly open, revealing a pair of yellowing eyeballs. Black veins creep over the contours of his cheekbones, bulging against skin as they reach the corners of his eyes. Dull ruby brims over from his tear ducts, releasing a strong wave of resentment that sweeps the paperman off its feet.
A powerful force of attraction draws the latter’s weightless body forward in the next instant, slamming him right against Nie Mingjue's yintang acupoint.
Over on the other side of Koi Tower, Lan Wanyin settles in a chair he drags up beside the bed Jiang Xichen is currently resting on. He leans over, sweeping aside the loose strands shielding the sleeping man’s face.
With Jiang Xichen’s eyes closed like this, the rest of his appearance really doesn't look all that similar to the man in his memories. However, their mannerisms are the same, and when coupled with the fact that he knows this man is Jiang Xichen, is enough to...
Lan Wanyin brushes the pad of his thumb across Jiang Xichen’s lips, feeling its softness under his fingers.
He draws in a stuttered breath.
It reminds Lan Wanyin of the sensation when the paperman pressed its hands against his lips earlier, and the memory fills Lan Wanyin with a dizzying sense of guilt.
He leans further forward then, edging closer as if drawn by desire. His fingers begin shaking, his throat becomes parched. His heart is hammering in his chest, thudding with a speed it has never pumped at before.
This is your second chance. Are you going to give it up too?
Just this one time. Believe us, he will never notice it!
He can't. He shouldn't.
But he wants to.
Lan Wanyin swallows dryly.
All of a sudden, Jiang Xichen’s arms jerk without any prior warning. His left hand shoots up and clenches tightly around Lan Wanyin’s wrist. The unexpected move wrenches Lan Wanyin out of his haze. He immediately glances up at Jiang Xichen, an excuse already forming at the tip of his tongue, but Jiang Xichen’s eyes are still shut.
“Xichen...?” Lan Wanyin calls, but the only reaction the man has is to knit his brows together as his face twists in pain.
Over at the secret room, Jiang Xichen does not even have the time to react at all.
A thick odor of blood instantly overwhelms him from the very moment he comes into contact with the crimson seal on Nie Mingjue’s forehead. Without a corporeal body as a last line of defense for his soul, there is no plausible way for Jiang Xichen to resist being directly affected by Nie Mingjue’s resentment energy.
He braces his paper arms as a last resort, trying to peel himself away, but the stench of blood covers and drags him completely under, into a session of Empathy.
Black creeps up the sides of Jiang Xichen's vision, forcing his eyes shut, and when he is finally able to open them again, Jiang Xichen finds himself standing outside an unfamiliar room.
“Yao-ge!" Nie Huaisang's voice sounds from within the confines of the room, choked with wails as he clings tightly to a youth. "Must you go? If you leave Qinghe, who will save me from Da-ge's nagging?!"
"Your elder brother is doing it for your own good, Huaisang. Even if he looks like this, he knows your limits and wouldn't push you past them. Rather than anger him, why not humor him a little and train once? According to my understanding of the Sect Leader, he would be appeased with that and will definitely leave you alone for a while after."
Nie Huaisang makes a face. "Once? Even once is enough to kill me, Yao-ge! Just look at these thin arms of mine—do they look like the kind that's made to lift sabres?!"
With his back still turned to the door, the youth pats his own biceps. "Look at mine too then. They are similar in size to yours, but I still am able to use a sabre. I am pretty sure you'd be able to too, Huaisang."
"This… This…" Nie Huaisang gapes, feeling betrayed. "This and that are two different things!"
"How are they two different things?" Nie Mingjue's booming voice echoes around the courtyard, and Jiang Xichen's field of vision moves as Nie Mingjue strides confidently forward and steps into the room. "I told you to practice the first set of sabre techniques this morning. It's long past noon now and you have not even started! Instead, you are hiding here!"
Nie Mingjue immediately cowers behind his friend. "Save me, Yao-ge!"
"Meng Yao, don't you dare shield him!"
The young man named Meng Yao turns around, bowing respectfully to Nie Mingjue. He does not bear the Lanling Jin Sect's vermillion mark on his forehead yet, and when coupled with how he is still on very good terms with both Nie brothers, Jiang Xichen can easily deduce that this memory must be from the early stages of the Sunshot Campaign, when Meng Yao was still working as Nie Mingjue’s deputy.
But why is Nie Mingjue showing him this? Does it have something to do with their enmity? With Jin Guangyao murdering him?
"Sect Leader Nie, today is my day of departure. I am sure Huaisang is here to see me off. Why don’t you give him a break today?”
“That’s right, that’s right!” Nie Huaisang chimes in, peeking out from over Meng Yao’s shoulder. "Yao-ge is my good friend! How can I not make time to see him off?"
Nie Mingjue’s brow twitches. "Stop trying to use this as an excuse to slack! It’s not as if you would never see him again!”
“B-But Yao-ge is bringing a recommendation letter personally written by you up to Koi Tower! After he gets taken in by the Jin Sect, he would no longer be a part of our Qinghe Nie Sect. It would become so difficult to meet him from then on!”
Meng Yao chuckles. "Don't worry, Huaisang. No matter what position I get, I will still come by to visit."
"Really? Promise?"
"Yes, I promise."
"Since Meng Yao has already said that, what are you still standing around for? Go and train! Until you learn the first stance by heart, you are not allowed to sleep!"
With the recommendation letter in hand, Meng Yao leaves that night, headed straight to Langya where the Lanling Jin forces are stationed.
However, some time later, Nie Mingjue receives an urgent letter from Jin Guangshan, stating that the Lanling Jin forces at Langya are greatly weakened after multiple attacks, and are in need of reinforcements. Nie Huaisang kicked up a huge fuss upon finding out, worried for Meng Yao, and wouldn't cease until Nie Mingjue agreed to personally lead a sizable number of cultivators to provide assistance.
Thus, after the situation at Langya settles, Nie Mingjue decidedly approaches Jin Guangshan to inquire about Meng Yao, but to his surprise, the man shamelessly plays dumb.
“Meng Yao? Uh… Sect Leader Nie, I don’t mean any offense, but who is he again?”
Nie Mingjue’s brows immediately furrow. The story about Meng Yao being kicked down Koi Tower created such a huge commotion before the man had joined Qinghe Nie. Even the common folk had caught wind about such a farce, so there is no way the main person involved would possibly forget Meng Yao's name. Only someone with the thickest of faces would be able to play dumb to this extent—and Jin Guangshan just so happens to be such a person.
“Meng Yao was my deputy. I wrote him a letter to bring along here."
Nie Mingjue’s tone had long grown cold, but Jin Guangshan continues to pretend as though he doesn’t know a thing. “Really? If I had known that Sect Leader Nie sent over his deputy, I would definitely have received him well, but I have never seen such a letter or person come by. Perhaps an accident of sorts happened along the way?”
Sensing that something must be wrong with the way Jin Guangshan is trying to absolve himself of the matter, Nie Mingjue begins to suspect that the worst must have befallen Meng Yao. Furthermore, the incident must be a recent one, quite possibly one where Jin Guangshan still doesn't have the time to cover-up Meng Yao’s death yet, considering how he is furtively trying to deny even knowing the man.
With a swivel of his dark sleeves, Nie Mingjue leaves without the slightest hesitation, hoping to get news of Meng Yao from other sources. However, none of the Jin cultivators he comes across are willing to even let anything slip. Enraged, Nie Mingjue finds a few secluded areas in Langya and starts to walk around.
One of such places is a small and quiet forest. It has just been through a surprise attack, and the battlefield has not been cleaned up yet. The face-off appears to have been very ferocious, with splattered blood dyeing the woodland. All throughout the downtrodden path Nie Mingjue takes are corpses of cultivators dressed in the colours of the Wen Sect, Jin Sect and a few others alike.
Not a single person on either side seemed to have survived the fight.
Yet suddenly, a strange whistling sound comes from before Nie Mingjue. It is sharp like a blade cutting through wind, yet soft like a breeze rustling through eaves, which is the characteristic sound produced by Wen Sect’s techniques. Narrowing his eyes, Nie Mingjue conceals his breathing and approaches cautiously, trying to take the enemy by surprise—only to see that the person using the technique is none other than Meng Yao.
The yellow-clad youth twists his wrist and stabs a long sword into a fellow Jin cultivator’s chest, then yanks it back out before the wounded man can scream. Meng Yao’s expression is absolutely calm. His attacks are both fast, steady, and careful, not letting even a droplet of blood stain his clothes.
Furthermore, the sword Meng Yao used is not his own. The sword is from a Wen Sect cultivator, complete with iron embellishments in the shape of flames on its hilt.
Without saying a word, Nie Mingjue who had witnessed the unfolding of the entire scene instantly unsheathes his sabre by an inch. A sharp ring pierces through the air.
Upon hearing that familiar sound, Meng Yao immediately trembles. He spins around, his soul almost evaporating when he sees Nie Mingjue towering over him, his countenance darker than coal.
“Sect Leader Nie…?”
Nie Mingjue pulls the rest of his sabre out of its sheath, the blade glinting scarlet. Jiang Xichen can feel the billowing anger from him, along with the emotions of disappointment and hatred.
Meng Yao understands Nie Mingjue’s personality more than anyone else. He drops the sword in his hand with a clang and throws himself over, half rolling and half crawling. “Sect Leader Nie, Sect Leader Nie! Please wait, I can explain! I had no other choice! I really had no other choice!”
Fuming, Nie Mingjue bellows, "What other choice did you not have?!"
Meng Yao kneels before him. "Sect Leader Nie, just listen to me! I joined the Lanling Jin Sect's force. This man was my superior, but he always despised me. During my time here, he would often humiliate me in front of others, and find men to beat me up for no reason!"
"So you killed him?"
"No! Not because of this! What humiliation and hardships can I not put up with? It was just that every time we took over one of the Wen Sect’s strongholds, I would strategize with every last drop of my energy and fight as well as I could, yet with just a few flimsy words and a several light brushstrokes, that man would make everything into his own credit every time, as if it had nothing to do with me. Every single time! I reasoned with him, but he couldn’t care less. I turned to others, but nobody was willing to hear me out. Just now, he said that my mother was, that my mother was… I really reached my limit—the accident today only happened because I was momentarily outraged!”
Meng Yao speaks as hurriedly as he can, saying sentence after sentence without pausing to breathe, as if fearing that Nie Mingjue might start chopping before he can finish his explanations. Despite this, his explanations still had clear logic. Every sentence highlighted how horrible others were and how pitiful he himself was.
Nie Mingjue snatches Meng Yao’s collar and lifts him up.
“You’re lying! You said you reached your limit and was momentarily enraged? Then tell me, would any outraged person kill someone with the same expression which you had on? Would they purposely pick the discreet forest that had just been through a battle? Would they kill them with the Wen Sect’s sword, the Wen Sect’s technique? You’ve clearly been deliberately planning this out! You wanted to disguise this murder as a Wen-dog’s stealth attack!”
“I’m telling the truth! Each and every sentence I said was the truth!"
“All the man did was take some trivial achievements! Do you care about nameless glory that much?”
“Just some trivial achievements...?” Meng Yao speaks in a shaking voice. “Do you hear yourself, Chifeng-zun? Do you know how much work I poured into those so-called trivial achievements? When things worked out well, he would steal my merit. When things turned out badly, he would beat me. And yet, you call them trivial achievements and nameless glory...? Of course, Chifeng-zun, you already have a reputation, and wouldn’t mind giving this little bit up, but I am different. I am different! Without this handful of glory, I have nothing!”
“Regardless, you still shouldn’t have killed him!"
“I didn’t come here planning to kill him! There was a surprise attack by the Wens and he forced me to strategize for him! Out of everyone, only the two of us survived! I put my life on the line to protect him from the Wens, yet he tried to stab me from behind so he can claim the credit. I only killed him, because he tried to kill me!”
Nie Mingjue looks at Meng Yao, who is shivering like a leaf as tears gleam in his eyes. The overlap between the tearing youth before him and the memory of how that same youth had calmly killed someone, makes the difference seem all the more stark.
“Meng Yao, let me ask you. The first time I saw you, did you purposely act in that pitiful way before me so I’d come to your rescue? If I didn’t, would you have done what you did today and killed all of them?”
Meng Yao’s Adam’s apple bobs. A drop of cold sweat trickles down to it and rolls off. Just as he is about to answer, Nie Mingjue yells in a furious roar and flings Meng Yao roughly onto the ground. “Do not lie in front of me!”
With a quiver, Meng Yao bends his head to the ground before Nie Mingjue. His fingers dig deeply into the dirt and his entire body shakes weakly as tears roll down to his forehead.
After a long moment of silence, Nie Mingjue slowly slides his sword back into its sheath. “I won’t do anything to you. On your own, go confess your crimes to the Lanling Jin Sect and receive your punishment. Let them deal with you whichever way they deem fit.”
“Chifeng-zun, you are sending me to my death.”
“A true man has the courage to accept the consequences of his actions. If you dare to kill, then you must have expected this outcome. Besides, I know that man. Even if he is frivolous, Jin Guangshan will certainly not issue a punishment without first understanding the facts, so if your words earlier about your mistreatment are true, he would definitely not kill you.”
Meng Yao does not lift his head. "My father… Until today, he has still not seen me yet…"
It isn't that Jin Guangshan did not see him, but that man merely pretends not to know of Meng Yao’s existence. After all, there is no need for him to acknowledge the child of a prostitute and risk making his wife angry, when he has a perfectly competent heir, Jin Zixuan.
Nie Mingjue understands that.
Even this time, with Jin Guangshan playing dumb about Meng Yao’s location and the latter's claim that his superior was trying to kill him—it might all just be a ploy for Jin Guangshan to get rid of this unwanted son behind the scenes. Thus, the best way to prevent Jin Guangshan from attempting this again in the future, is to drag it all out into the open right now. To do that, Meng Yao has to step forward and show that he knows what his father is up to.
This is why Nie Mingjue has to force Meng Yao to go back to Langya and plead guilty for his crimes. Only by doing so, will he be able to exchange suffering under this one punishment for decades of peace.
"I understand… Thank you for Sect Leader Nie's kindness," Meng Yao replies after a beat. Nie Mingjue turns to leave. "But I am sorry... I still can't."
Nie Mingjue wheels around at once. He doesn't know when, but a sword is in Meng Yao’s hand, the tip pressed against his stomach. He thrusts it in with force. Within an instant, the blade pierces straight through his stomach and leaves through his back, and the yellow-clad cultivator collapses forward into the pool of other people's blood.
Nie Mingjue’s pupils shrink abruptly.
He rushes forward, half-kneeling as he turns Meng Yao’s body over. "You're…!"
Meng Yao’s face is colourless. He gives Nie Mingjue a weak look, then forces the corners of his lips up into a smile. “Sect Leader Nie, I am so sorry...”
Before Meng Yao finishes his sentence, his head slowly droops. Nie Mingjue hurriedly slides an arm under the injured man's neck, supporting him. He presses his palm to the unwounded half of Meng Yao's chest and begins passing him spiritual energy.
Yet suddenly, Nie Mingjue feels a cold unyielding stream of energy piercing his stomach.
Jiang Xichen knows that Meng Yao survived this ordeal and later went on to become Jin Guangyao, so he knows that Meng Yao’s fatal injury right now must be a bluff. However, the Nie Mingjue then had likely never expected it to be a ruse and never considered that Meng Yao would really harm him. Thus, he is more shocked than angered when he watches the wounded Meng Yao rise steadily to his feet before him.
"How…" Nie Mingjue croaks out hoarsely.
Meng Yao doesn't answer. All he does is pull the sword out of his stomach with both caution and composure, producing a small string of liquid crimson, before pressing a hand against his bleeding wound.
Nie Mingjue remains in the posture he used when trying to help Meng Yao. Half-kneeling with his head raised, the two men's eyes meet.
Nie Mingjue doesn't say anything.
Meng Yao does not say anything either. He simply sheathes his sword, bows towards Nie Mingjue and sprints away without looking back.
Finally seeing the true colours of the trusted aide he had once promoted himself, Nie Mingjue flies into a terrible rage and becomes especially fierce during the clashes with Wen Sect. His fury has not died down even a single bit even after he returns to Qinghe.
"Da-ge, why do you seem so upset? Is it Yao-ge? Did he get injured?"
"Do not mention such a person to me ever again!"
Nie Huaisang jumps out of his skin. Even though his elder brother yells at him a lot day in day out, he had never shouted at him quite like this before.
"What has Yao-ge done wro—"
"I forbid you from ever hanging out with him even if you ever meet him again! You can't even speak to him! Do you hear me?!"
"D-Da-ge, isn't that a little too extre—"
"Do you understand me?!" Nie Mingjue roars and Nie Huaisang has no other choice but to nod numbly. "If I ever catch that man, I'll offer him as a sacrifice to my sabre!"
It is as though his words are a prophecy, because all traces of Meng Yao vanish for the next few years, as if he were a rock that had sunk into the vast ocean, a leaf that had been blown away by the wind.
Jiang Xichen lets out a sigh, already knowing what scene would be brought up by Empathy next, however, the scene unfolding at Qishan Wen's Sun Palace still takes him by surprise. He’d known the widely publicised shortened version of the happenings leading up to Wen Ruohan’s death—including the Wen Sect Leader’s capture of Nie Mingjue and his subordinates, and the undercover Meng Yao’s role in killing Wen Ruohan and freeing the Nie cultivators—but he doesn’t know that the entire process had been like this.
He hadn’t expected Meng Yao to have been the one that killed the Nie cultivators.
“Sect Leader Nie, I have been religiously thinking about you all these years, thinking how our next meeting would go, but I have certainly never expected that it would be with you in such a terrible condition.”
Nie Mingjue scoffs. His entire body is on the verge of collapsing, head aching, bones crushed, and vision impeded by fresh blood trickling from his head injury. Even the slightest shift of his body makes it creak in protest, and yet Nie Mingjue still refuses to give in to the Wens’ taunts. “Get. Lost.”
The tone of Meng Yao’s laughter contains a sense of pity. He lowers himself into a half-kneeling position beside Nie Mingjue. “Do you still think you are the King of Hejian? Look around, look carefully. This is the Sun Palace.”
“Sun Palace? This is but the den of you Wen-dogs!” One of the Nie cultivators on the side spits at Meng Yao, his saliva hitting the sun and flame motif on the hem of Meng Yao’s robes.
Meng Yao’s expression darkens immediately and he unsheathes his sword.
A line of blood instantly flies forth from the cultivator’s neck. He dies without another sound, falling forward silently. Those beside him wail, screaming as they throw themselves over before the corpse.
Nie Mingjue, on the other hand, shows no sign of sadness. Instead, he is enraged, his body shaking with sheer fury. “You!”
Another cultivator chimes in, roaring, “You Wen-dog! If you are so confident, why don’t you kill me as well?!”
Meng Yao smiles. With a backhanded swing, blood blooms across the impudent cultivator’s throat. “Gladly.”
With his sword still unsheathed, Meng Yao steps forward, out from the pool of blood forming around him from the two lifeless men.
“Does anyone else want to try saying the word?”
Nie Mingjue sneers coldly without any hesitation. “Wen-dog.”
He knows that only death awaited him from the very moment he fell into Wen Ruohan’s hands, which is why Nie Mingjue no longer fears anything at this moment. But instead of being angered by the blatant display of defiance, Meng Yao’s smile only widens. With a snap of his fingers, one of the Wen Sect’s cultivators hurries over on his knees at once, presenting a long box to Meng Yao.
“Sect Leader Nie, I have something here which I’m sure you’d recognise.” Meng Yao slides the box open and retrieves a very familiar object from within: Nie Mingjue’s sabre, Baxia.
Nie Mingjue lunges forward, blood spilling from his lips as his overworked body collapses onto the ground. “Return it to me!”
Meng Yao puts his foot on Nie Mingjue’s upturned cheek and grinds down on it heartlessly as he slides a finger along the blade. “This Baxia had already been in my hands quite a few times in the past. Don’t you think it’s too late for you to be angry now?”
“Take your filthy paws off it!”
Meng Yao laughs. “Sect Leader Nie, your sabre, I’d say, can easily pass as a top-tier spiritual weapon. With that said, it’s still somewhat inferior to the sabre of your late father. Why don’t you take a guess at how many times Sect Leader Wen has to hit it for it to break? My guess is that unlike your father’s sabre which could last well into a night-hunt before breaking, yours will shatter on the spot.”
Within a split second, all the blood in Nie Mingjue’s body rushes to his head.
The thing he loathed and regretted the most in his life was the death of his father, and with a few measly words, Meng Yao was able to get under Nie Mingjue’s skin to this extent. With a loud bellow of rage, Sect Leader Nie pushes himself to his feet. The movement knocks Meng Yao off balance, and Nie Mingjue seizes the chance to smack a hand roughly into the latter’s chest. However, Nie Mingjue’s spiritual energy had mostly been depleted long ago, and this one strike merely causes Meng Yao to stagger backwards.
Seeing this, Wen Ruohan who is seated on the jade throne shifts forward, as though wanting to move, but Nie Mingjue has collapsed onto the floor once again, coughing up blood.
Meng Yao stomps harshly on Nie Mingjue’s chest, taking out his anger and humiliation. “How dare you act in such a way before Sect Leader Wen’s eyes!”
Nie Mingjue grabs on to Meng Yao’s ankle and with a sharp twist, dislocates it. The shorter man howls in pain, falling forward. Just as Nie Mingjue prepares to strike a decisive blow on the crown of Meng Yao’s head, he feels his body getting drawn by an unusual force towards Wen Ruohan. In a burst of wit, he grabs one of the kneeling Wen Sect disciples and tosses him towards the jade seat, hoping that Wen Ruohan would cease his attack, but it doesn't even faze the Wen Sect Leader.
The skull of the disciple explodes in the air like a watermelon, pink brain matter and crimson blood splattering all over the ground.
Nie Mingjue snaps out of his shock a fraction of a beat later. With a leap into the air, he forms a hand seal and Baxia flies to him at once.
“Sect Leader Wen,” Meng Yao exclaims. “Watch out!”
A lively voice chuckles from the shadows shrouding the jade seat, audibly excited at the prospect of a battle. “Hold him down!"
Dozens of Wen Sect cultivators surround Nie Mingjue and he cuts them down without hesitation, letting the adrenaline pumping through his veins do the thinking for him, and allowing his survival instincts to do the fighting for him. The deformed bodies of the cultivators fall, lying in disorder on the coal-coloured tiles.
He feels a presence behind him next, and slashes out ferociously with his sword. Verdant green and vibrant vermilion collide. Nie Mingjue's dwindling spiritual energy cuts a long jagged line into the ground, but instead of hitting Wen Ruohan, he ends up being the one injured, crashing into one of the golden pillars in the palace and coughing up warm blood.
Red creeps into the edges of his vision, hindering his sight, causing him to wave Baxia out blindly.
A fist slams into the center of Nie Mingjue’s chest.
His entire body sinks several degrees into the tiled ground.
Wen Ruohan steps onto Nie Mingjue’s chest. The taste of blood burns in the man’s throat. The muffled sound of ribs breaking echoes in his ears. His chest burns from the lack of oxygen.
Nie Mingjue gasps weakly, vision darkening.
Meng Yao’s voice cuts through the mounting haze. “Although you’d given me such a grand opportunity to exact revenge… Your subordinate is really useless to have needed your presence, Sect Leader.”
Wen Ruohan chuckles, his tone crazed. “You really are a good-for-nothing.”
Meng Yao laughs as well, tone oddly void of emotion.
Wen Ruohan turns his attention back to Nie Mingjue. “This man is the imbecile who killed Wen Xu?”
“That’s right. It's him. Sect Leader, are you going to kill your foe right now, or drag him to the Fire Palace? My personal suggestion is to take him to the Fire Palace. We can test out the new batch of torture devices on this man. With his sturdy body, we might actually be able to test them all out on him.”
Wen Ruohan retracts his foot off of Nie Mingjue’s chest. “Well then, do as you please.”
Meng Yao smiles. “Yes, I will.”
Yet as he responded, a cold light, thinner than frost on a glass surface, slashes out and across.
Wen Ruohan falls silent.
Warm droplets of blood splash onto Nie Mingjue’s face.
The latter cracks open an eye, trying to look up and see what is going on. Still, with his heavy injuries, his head sinks to the ground and his eyes slip close.
Jiang Xichen doesn’t know how long has passed before he finally sees a streak of light in his sight. Nie Mingjue has finally regained consciousness. Jiang Xichen’s senses are connected with Nie Mingjue’s through Empathy, and although he can’t feel pain, he can tell the severity of the man's sustained injuries.
“Sect Leader Nie, you have finally awoken.”
Nie Mingjue blinks, allowing his blurry vision to refocus. “Wen Ruohan has died?”
Meng Yao swallows dryly. “He has probably… died. I stabbed him through the heart, but his level of cultivation is too high, I’m still afraid it… It might not be enough.”
Indeed, Wen Ruohan’s level of cultivation is exceptionally high. He was a formidable opponent, able to render the acclaimed Nie Mingjue completely defenseless. In fact, Jiang Xichen supposes that even if he were here back then as the Yiling Patriarch, he might not have fared any better than Nie Mingjue in this fight.
“Hand me my sabre.”
Jiang Xichen cannot see Meng Yao’s expression from this angle, but he can clearly hear the saddened smile in his voice. “Sect Leader Nie, you are still heavily injured. I was afraid you might move recklessly when you wake up and worsen your injuries, so I sealed your movement-related acupoints.”
Nie Mingjue scoffs. “You’d know best whether you did it for my injuries or to prevent me from killing you!”
Meng Yao sighs. “Your bad habit of wanting to kill before hearing people’s explanation still hasn’t changed a single bit.”
“What explanation do I need to hear when I witnessed everything from the beginning to the end? You killed them all before my eyes. That is a fact!"
“If you saw everything, then you should have understood. In that sort of situation… I had no choice.”
What Nie Mingjue hates the most are these callous, irresponsible words. His entire body shakes, muscles twitching with the desire to rise to his feet, but to no avail. “You had no choice? Whether to do it or not was up to you. Whether to kill them or not was up to you!”
“Was it really up to me? Sect Leader Nie, if you put yourself in my shoes and think from my perspective—”
“I will not!” Nie Mingjue thunders, adamant on not letting up an inch on his stance.
Meng Yao flings his hand out, slapping the immobile Sect Leader Nie across the face. “Chifeng-zun! Don’t you understand that if I didn’t kill them, then you’d be the one who would have died?! I can’t just stand by and let Wen Ruohan kill you!”
Nie Mingjue’s movement halts. Veins stand out under his forehead. “Because you want to exact revenge and kill me with your own two hands?”
Meng Yao gasps. “Nie Mingjue! Are you being serious?!”
When Nie Mingjue doesn’t answer, Meng Yao slumps back down, as though his energy had run out. After taking a while to catch his breath, he finally continues speaking. “I did go back.”
“What?”
“I said, after you caught me at Langya, I did go back to the Jin Sect to turn myself in. It took me several days though. During that time, I thought long and hard about why you insisted that I do that, and I finally realised your intentions. I expected my father to punish me, but instead, he told me to join the Wen Sect as an undercover.”
Nie Mingjue sneers. “Do you think I will believe your lies at this point?”
“Everything I say is the truth. Of course, it is your choice whether you want to believe it or not, but those maps about Qishan Wen’s tactical formations that the Jin Sect passed you did not materialise out of thin air.”
Nie Mingjue does not reply.
Meng Yao turns around, kneeling to him. “Sect Leader Nie. Although it was to gain the trust of Wen Ruohan, I did indeed harm you and said many inappropriate things. I purposely jabbed at your scar, knowing that it would have hurt you badly. Although I had no other choice, I still am truly sorry.”
Nie Mingjue’s expression hardens.
“The one you should be kneeling to isn’t me, but the cultivators you killed with your own hands.”
“Wen Ruohan had a cruel character. If there was any disobeyment, he’d act as though he was mad. Since I was pretending to be someone he could trust, how could I possibly sit back and watch when others humiliated him? The only choice I had was…”
Nie Mingjue’s eyes flash red with fury. “The only choice, the only choice, the only choice! When can you stop trying to act like the victim?!”
“I am only saying that because it’s the truth! I was beside Wen Ruohan! That Wen Ruohan! One wrong move and he’d have smashed my skull into smithereens! What other choice did I have?!” Meng Yao shouts, the volume of his voice the loudest anyone has ever heard him speak in. “The few cultivators I have killed out of desperation are far less than the hundreds of lives you have taken! So why are you harping on about this like your hands are in any way cleaner than mine?!”
Nie Mingjue is so enraged that he begins laughing. “Good! I’ll give you my answer then! Countless souls have fallen under my sabre, but I have never killed anyone out of my own desires, much less to climb up the ladder!”
“So you are saying that all the people you killed deserved their deaths? Then, may I ask, just how do you decide if someone deserves death? Are your standards absolutely correct? If I kill one but save hundreds, would the good outweigh the bad, or would I still deserve death? To achieve great things, small sacrifices are inevitable. As a sect leader, you should know that better than anyone else!"
“Then why don’t you sacrifice yourself? Are you in any way nobler than them? Are you any different from them?!”
Meng Yao stares down at him. A moment later, he replies calmly, as though he had finally made a huge life-changing decision. “Yes.”
Nie Mingjue lets out a loud feral roar, his hoarse voice cracking. His muscles ripple, veins bulging with physical exertion as Nie Mingjue struggles to wrestle his way through the restrictions of his sealed acupoints, and actually succeeds.
Meng Yao blanches, darting away on nimble feet, but Nie Mingjue closes the distance between them with a few wide strides. Despite having torn several of his wounds again, the taller man continues to persevere. He reels his hand back, prepared to strike, but manages to stop himself when a group of yellow-clothed cultivators suddenly jump into the fray.
"Quick, quick, quick. Pull him away, don't let him harm our Lanling Jin disciple," Jin Guangshan tuts, gesturing for the disciples to separate the two men. He waits till the barely-conscious Nie Mingjue is pinned down securely before finally approaching him. "Sect Leader Nie, you might not know this but this boy called Meng Yao is undercover for our Sect. He is not one of the Wens, so there is no need to harm him."
"He killed friend and foe alike! This man is not to be trusted!"
Jin Guangshan shakes his head. "Sect Leader Nie, you must understand that as undercover, some things… really can't be helped. I'm sure that when this boy was doing these things, in his heart he was also…"
Nie Mingjue uses the last of his energy to laugh maniacally. "Can't be helped? Then, Sect Leader Jin, let me ask you! How do you know such a sly fox can be trusted? If he can be undercover for you today and kill Wen Ruohan, what is stopping him from going undercover for another sect in the future to kill you?!"
Everyone in the room falls silent at once.
Jin Guangshan glances surreptitiously from Nie Mingjue to Meng Yao and back to Nie Mingjue. He laughs it off flippantly, pretending to be unaffected, but Jiang Xichen can clearly see from the Sect Leader’s eyes that the seed of doubt had already been planted.
And Meng Yao’s darkening countenance tells him that the latter has noticed it too.
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
Following Wen Ruohan’s death, the defeat of the Qishan Wen remnants is set in stone. While the smaller sects are focused on cleaning up the remaining mobs, Jin Guangshan hurriedly herds the other Great Sects into discussions regarding splitting the Qishan Wen's possessions between themselves as reparations.
He plays up Meng Yao's contribution to the Sunshot Campaign, and uses it as a reason to claim a larger portion of Qishan Wen's properties. Stories of Meng Yao's sacrifices as undercover in Nightless City for years spread to the masses during this period as well, making him out to be more and more valiant with each rendition, giving the boy immediate fame as the celebrated hero who dealt the decisive blow to Wen Ruohan.
Jin Guangyao seizes the chance to adopt this previously unwanted son, but is only able to give him the name “Jin Guangyao”2 after Madam Jin’s repeated protests, worried that Meng Yao would jeopardize Jin Zixuan’s position—allowing him to still be a part of the main Jin clan, but will never be seen as a legitimate heir.
This underhanded move from the Jin Sect Leader goes against everyone’s morals, but it is in no one else’s place to speak up when the person on the receiving end, Jin Guangyao, merely smiles and meekly accepts the compromise. Next, as if rubbing salt into fresh wounds, Jin Guangshan then orders the Lanling Jin Sect to set up a flower banquet to celebrate both Jin Guangyao’s acceptance into the clan as well as the end of the Sunshot Campaign.
The person that oversaw and managed this banquet is, coincidentally, Jin Guangyao himself.
Even the mindless duty of standing at the entrance and welcoming every guest is done by the man himself. Yet, there doesn’t seem to be any traces of displeasure on the young man’s features. His air is calmer than ever, and with the vermilion mark painted between his brows, alongside with a gauze cap and the golden robes of Sparks Amidst Snow, the former scheming Meng Yao appears to only be a figment of his buried past.
But Jiang Xichen knows that this is nothing but an illusion, because he spots a familiar figure beside Jin Guangyao.
Xue Yang.
At this point in time, Xue Yang is still rather young although he has already made a small name for himself in Kuizhou. Dressed in the Lanling Jin Sect’s robes for guest cultivators, Xue Yang appears to be brimming with youthful talent, yet when he stands beside the composed Jin Guangyao, the two men feel as different as can be, with Jin Guangyao bowing politely to the approaching Nie cultivators while Xue Yang eyes them with casual contempt as though they are all mere walking pieces of trash.
“Yao-ge!” Nie Huaisang calls, waving energetically, but is yelled at and hauled off by Nie Mingjue before he can get another word out. Jin Guangyao directs an apologetic smile towards the protesting Nie Young Master, then leans over to whisper something to Xue Yang.
Xue Yang flashes his canine teeth in a large feral smile, then waves his hands and skips to another area.
·· ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
“A gift?” Nie Mingjue raises a brow, glancing up from the decorative lacquered box which a gleefully grinning Nie Huaisang dropped into his hand. Inside it, is a delicately crafted incense burner.
"For your birthday, Da-ge! I know that everyone else must have given you something related to martial arts, so I got you this to help you relax after a long day of work instead!"
"This looks like something from your collection. Are you sure it's not because you forgot to prepare a present and simply pulled something out randomly?"
Nie Huaisang gasps in mock astonishment. "Da-ge, how could you? Look at how exquisite the craftsmanship is! It took me over two months just to collate the materials and find suitable craftsmen to make it!"
"Alright, alright," Nie Mingjue concedes with a hearty chuckle, ruffling his younger brother's hair. "Spare me. You know your Da-ge isn't gifted in the area of arts. If Huaisang says it's good, then it must be good."
Nie Huaisang beams. He pulls out a sachet from his sleeve and sets it atop the lacquered box. "There. I even prepared the incense itself! Make sure that you use it every single day! If you don't know how to set it up then just call me!"
"What if I called you to go train together?"
Nie Huaisang blanches instantly and hurriedly dashes away. "I… I suddenly remembered that I had an errand to run! See you later tonight, Da-ge!"
"Get back here, Huaisang!"
"No way!"
From an outsider's point of view, Nie Mingjue might seem strict and overbearing with his constant nagging and disapproval of his brother’s hobbies. However, Nie Huaisang knows that his doting brother will never overstep his boundaries.
The Nie brothers have always been understanding towards each other's differences in interests and temperaments. Regardless of how furious he is, Nie Mingjue would never really damage his prized art collection—that is, until one day many months later.
“Huaisang! I told you to train before I left this morning! What have you been doing?!”
Nie Huaisang, who is sitting amidst his collection of antiques, scroll paintings and a dozen folding fans, takes a single look at Nie Mingjue’s dark glare and the throbbing veins protruding from the latter’s forehead, and immediately falls to his knees from the terror. “D-D-Da-ge…”
“Where is your sabre?”
Nie Huaisang cowers. “In… In my room. No, I mean, it’s on the school grounds. No, wait, that’s wrong too… Let me think…”
Jiang Xichen feels an insurmountable amount of boiling rage simmering under Sect Leader Nie’s skin. It is almost as if Nie Mingjue wanted to hack his younger brother to pieces right there and then. “You bring a dozen fans with you wherever you go, yet when it comes to your sabre, you say you have no idea where it is?!”
“I… I’ll go find it now!”
“There’s no need! Even if you manage to find it, you won’t be able to do anything!” Nie Mingjue eyes all the delicate paper fans with disdain. “Go burn all of these!”
All the colour drains out of Nie Huaisang’s face. He rushes to pull the fans into his arms, pleading with tears slipping down his cheeks. “N-N-No, please… Da-ge… All of these were… were given to me!”
Nie Mingjue slams his palm onto a table, cracking it cleanly through the middle. “Who did? Tell them to scurry out here right now!”
Knowing that mentioning Jin Guangyao's name now would only make his brother more furious, Nie Huaisang begins shaking once again. “Please don’t do this… I… I… All of these are my treasures!”
"Your treasures?! Being a man of our Qinghe Nie clan, instead of your sabre, you dare call these scrap paper and wood your treasures?!"
"Scrap paper and wood?" Nie Huaisang gasps, offended. "Even if Da-ge has no interest in art, calligraphy, and antiques, you still shouldn't say such hurtful things about my hobbies!"
"What can hobbies give you? Will they help you survive in night-hunts? Will they help you improve your cultivation? It’s been one year already and you still haven’t learned this one set of sabre techniques yet! I don’t ask you to excel, but you can’t even protect yourself! How did our Qinghe Nie Sect produce such a good-for-nothing like you!” Nie Mingjue swings his sabre out, smashing several blanc de chine antiques into pieces. “Our Qinghe Nie’s sect leaders have no need for such nonsensical things!"
"Da-ge has always been like this—pushing your ideals onto me! Sabre, sabre, sabre! Who the fuck wants to practice that damn thing?! So what if I want to be a good-for-nothing?! I'm not the Sect Leader anyway and I have no intention of ever becoming one either!" Nie Huaisang screams. He has never raised his voice against his brother before, and his sudden outburst shocks Nie Mingjue into complete silence. Upon realising what he has done half a beat later, Nie Huaisang hurriedly retreats into his room.
“Nie Huaisang! Get back here!” Nie Mingjue bellows, but his deputy hurriedly stops him from giving chase.
“Sect Leader. We have received word that the Jin Sect changed Xue Yang’s punishment from a death sentence to life imprisonment.”
"The Jin Sect did what?!" Nie Mingjue snarls, spitting out the five words vehemently. The combination of his disgust and fury towards Lanling Jin and Jin Guangyao culminates inside him for a second, and manifests in a mouthful of blood.
Nie Mingjue stumbles forward, clutching at the front of his robes as a wave of cold chill settles deep inside his chest.
Jiang Xichen perks up at once, having sensed a similar sensation in his chest more often than not after coming back in Song Hengyi's body. It is a reaction to an extreme amount of resentment energy built up inside the cultivator’s core—but why would Nie Mingjue who is in the prime of his life have a deficient core…?
"Sect Leader, are you al—"
Nie Mingjue raises a hand to silence him.
His deputy sighs. "Why don't you just tell Er-gongzi? He would have to find out about it sooner or later. At least, if he knows of it now, he will put more effort into his daily train—"
"Do not tell Huaisang. I can still hold on. Huaisang is too young right now, there is no need to burden him with all these yet." Nie Mingjue wipes away all lingering traces of blood on his lips. "Prepare paper and ink. I have to write a letter to Lanling.”
·· ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
“It’s rare to receive a letter from Sect Leader Nie, asking cordially to meet me after the banquet of Qinghe Nie’s martial arts conference," Jin Guangyao says as he settles into the stone seat in one of the annexes. “I have always thought that Chifeng-zun is a rash person who would act before thinking. Could it be that the incense Huaisang passed you is actually showing effects?”
Nie Mingjue had initially wanted to discuss the matter of Xue Yang’s change in punishment. However, his focus has been completely changed now that he hears that Jin Guangyao knows of the gift Huaisang gave him.
“How do you know about the incense?!”
Jin Guangyao smiles. “Simple, because I am the one that helped Huaisang pick it out. After all, I was once your deputy. Your interests, likes and dislikes—I know them well."
“Ridiculous! Didn’t I tell you not to interact with Huaisang anymore?!” Nie Mingjue yells, slamming his hands on the table.
“Chifeng-zun must be joking. I am currently neither your subordinate nor your friend, why do I need to listen to you?"
"Jin Guangyao, you—!" Nie Mingjue chokes mid-sentence, clutching at the middle of his chest. Spasms of pain lances through his core and creates a numbing ache that spreads down to his extremities. The resulting weakness in his limbs causes the sect leader to slump forward against the table.
Jin Guangyao rises to his feet. "I still have to thank Huaisang for being such an easily manipulated pawn, and Sect Leader Nie yourself for being such a doting brother. Because you've been using Huaisang's gift diligently everyday, the effects I was waiting to see have set in much earlier than expected."
Nie Mingjue’s eyes bulge from a mix of anger and exertion. "You… You did something to the incense…?"
"Indeed. I added two special ingredients specially for you, Chifeng-zun. One of them is a poison—one which makes it more difficult for your core to purify the resentment energy. It's a perfect fit for the Nie Sect’s cultivation method, don't you think?" Jin Guangyao bends forward to whisper into Nie Mingjue’s ear. "Do you like the jasmine fragrance? I included it to mask the scent of the poison."
Nie Mingjue lets out a ferocious roar, unsheathing Baxia at once, but Jin Guangyao had already darted nimbly out from the annex building. Angered and frustrated, the staggering sect leader chases after the dot of yellow in a corner of his blurry vision until he arrives at the square.
There, he looks up, catching his breath.
Jiang Xichen can hear exactly how rapidly his heart is beating.
"Jin Guangyao!"
All the people who are walking around on the square halt and slowly turn to Nie Mingjue—only to reveal that each and every one of them all gave the appearance of Jin Guangyao!
Jiang Xichen swallows thickly, the realisation dawning on him.
Nie Mingjue has already encountered a qi deviation!
He is delirious, and the only thought in his head is to kill, to kill, to kill, kill, kill kill kill, kill Jin Guangyao! He attacks anyone who dares to come close. Shrieks surround the area.
Suddenly, Jiang Xichen hears someone wail, “Da-ge!”
Nie Mingjue shivers as he hears the voice, becoming slightly calmer. As he turns around, he can finally make out a different face from the blurry sea of Jin Guangyao’s features.
“Da-ge, look clearly, it’s me!”
Nie Mingjue stills.
Holding an injured arm, Nie Huaisang drags his leg behind him, desperately shifting towards Nie Mingjue. Noticing that his elder brother has finally stopped moving, Nie Huaisang beams, tears in his eyes. “Da-ge? Da-ge! Look, it’s me! It's Huaisang! Listen to me, put down your sabre!”
However, before Nie Huaisang can reach his brother’s side, Nie Mingjue has already collapsed on the ground, his body twitching as blood spills from his qiqiao.3 Through his red-tinged vision, Nie Mingjue finally spots the real Jin Guangyao.
Jin Guangyao is standing at the end of the corridor. There is not even a single trace of blood on him.
Their eyes meet.
Two streams of tears roll down Jin Guangyao’s expressionless face, but the Sparks Amidst Snow blooming wildly over his chest seems to be smiling in place of him.
“Xichen!”
A warm stream of spiritual energy flowing into his corporeal body aids in countering Nie Mingjue’s resentment, and it brutally severes the connection between them. Jiang Xichen finds his consciousness rebounding back into the paperman.
The impact sends him sprawling backwards into the dark curtains, but the damage is already done. The crimson seal on Nie Mingjue’s yintang acupoint has been smeared, broken.
Jiang Xichen backs away.
He can't stay here any longer. Jin Guangyao will definitely notice that something is amiss soon. Besides, there isn’t much time left for him to return to his corporeal body either.
Paperman Jiang Xichen flaps his sleeves, flying out as though he were a butterfly. Yet, just as he passes through the gap in the curtains, he notices someone standing in the dark corner of the secret room.
Jin Guangyao smiles. Without speaking a word, he pulls out a soft sword from his waist—Hensheng.
Notes:
1. Yintang xuan/Yintang acupoint (印堂穴): located on the forehead, at the midpoint between the two medial ends of the eyebrow. Back
2. The Jins have a generation-based word for the names of their clan members. Guang is the word for Jin Guangshan’s generation, just like how Zi is for Jin Zixuan’s generation (i.e. the other cultivator named Zixun) and for Jin Ling’s generation, it would be Ru (as seen from Jin Rulan and Jin Rusong). So by naming Jin Guangyao with Guang instead of Zi, it essentially is a slap to his face and in a roundabout way telling Jin Guangyao he is not considered as that particular “son” generation. Back
3. Qiqiao: the seven orifices on a face: eyes, ears, nostrils, mouth. Back***
"Shijie!" Wei Wuxian calls, ponytail bobbing as he waves energetically to Jiang Yanli who has just docked at Lotus Pier. Jiang Xichen who is standing next to Wei Wuxian smiles too, helping his sister off the boat.
It has been many, many months since they had last seen each other but instead of feeling estranged, the three now feel closer than ever—and that is further strengthened when they bow their heads to the floor in the ancestral hall and pay respects to the two newly added tablets.
The three of them are bonded by common experiences, by a common suffering. They now understand each other in a way that words can't explain, that actions can't depict.
They know that they can never go back to the past—back to those peaceful days when their only troubles were family disharmony and finding chances to skive off on training.
Jiang Xichen will never be able to sit opposite his father in the study to discuss sect affairs anymore, and his mother will never yell at him for being too soft-hearted anymore.
"A-Huan," Jiang Yanli calls, knocking on the door and raising the tray in her hands, containing a bowl of soup and a plate of spicy scallion pancakes. "Let's have our first meal together."
Jiang Xichen returns her smile.
It is inevitable that things would change with the passage of time, but there are also some which will always, always remain unchanging—like the warmth of his sister's smile and the taste of her lotus root and pork rib soup.
Chapter 24: Recrimination III
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
<PRESENT>
Hensheng is a unique soft sword which might not even be proficiently wielded by the best swordsman due to its quirky flexibility, but Jin Guangyao has the capability to use the weapon to its fullest potential. In fact, it might not even be a stretch to claim that the malleable blade would likely suit the man’s fighting style much better than a regular sword.
Without adequate guidance and a firm foundation in cultivation when he was still a child, Jin Guangyao had in turn missed his optimal age to form a golden core. As a result, the amount of spiritual energy he possesses will forever be limited by this unseen barrier, and he will never be able to achieve a breakthrough in the field of cultivation.
No matter how hard he tries, he will likely always be at a disadvantage against other cultivators in a head-on battle, and so, it becomes increasingly crucial for him to look toward other methods to cinch his victory.
Jin Guangyao understands this concept.
Thus, he had long since tossed away the flimsy notion of "quality" when it comes to his techniques, and focused solely on increasing the "quantity"—and it is within this arsenal that he finds a suitable inspiration for the improved usage of his weapon, one where he will be able to use despite his low level of cultivation.
With a soft blade, he will have the element of surprise and be able to use the created opening to wreathe the sword around his opponent. Then, Jin Guangyao will apply his spiritual energy to Hensheng in a bizarre rhythm, making the tender blade vibrate with a frequency that rips its trapped target into pieces.
As a matter of fact, quite a few famous swords are said to have been battered into piles of scrap iron from just this, and Paperman Jiang Xichen is certainly not keen to stay long enough to find out if those rumours are true.
Unfortunately for him, Jin Guangyao does not seem to have any intention of letting him escape from the secret room.
Hensheng chases after Jiang Xichen fervently, its body snaking around obstacles as though it is a serpent with silver scales, biting at the trail of its foe. The paperman darts around, leaping from shelf to shelf agilely, but a thin piece of paper is too easily affected by environmental factors to allow for free unhindered motion.
After a few moves where he narrowly dodges the incessant strikes from the sword at each turn, Jiang Xichen hastily springs backwards to put some distance between them. However, he quickly realises that he was being lured into a trap when he finds his back against a wall.
To his surprise, Jin Guangyao does not immediately come forward to deal the final blow. Instead, he continues standing a distance away and pulls the corners of his lips back into a sardonic smile as he glances condescendingly down at the paper cut-out.
"I heard that the Yiling Patriarch was a formidable swordsman, and that his skill was unrivalled by those in the same generation, but it appears that the seven year gap has indeed taken its toll."
Jiang Xichen freezes. How was Jin Guangyao able to figure out his identity from the get-go?
"I know what you are thinking right now. You are wondering when and how I discovered your identity, am I correct?" The yellow-clothed man chuckles, the sound flat and hollow. "Well, the answer is very simple. Your disguise as a Lan and familiarity with Lan er-gongzi is the main clue, along with the fact that the real Song Hengyi would never be able to converse civilly with me, no matter the circumstances. Who do you think kept him locked up for years?"
Jiang Xichen is not able to speak in his current form but his body language is more than enough to convey his emotions.
"This room has had its fair share of occupants over the past few years, but the only one who was ever able to escape was Song Hengyi alone," Jin Guangyao continues, still standing at his original spot. "I have always been wondering how he managed to accomplish that, but I suppose that it would be an easy feat for you and your manipulation of resentment energy.”
Jiang Xichen does not move an inch, neither confirming nor rejecting Jin Guangyao’s hypothesis.
The light in Jin Guangyao’s eyes grows cold. “But I guess it doesn’t matter at this point anymore.”
He draws his hand back as he speaks, lifting Hensheng to his shoulder level. The flickering candlelight in the room gleams along its sharp edge, casting an eerie glow on the contours of the Jin Sect Leader's face.
Jiang Xichen does a quick sweep across his surroundings, hoping to find something to either duck behind or use, but to no avail.
The only thing he spots close by is a black sword displayed on the wooden cabinet right beside him. Nobody had polished the straight-cut sword1 since a long time ago, but the sheathed blade still cuts an ominous imagery despite the layer of dust atop it.
Oddly, it feels somewhat familiar—nostalgic even, but Jiang Xichen does not remember having ever seen it before.
Knowing that even a single moment of loss in focus might cost him his life, Jiang Xichen decidedly ignores the pull the sword seems to have on his consciousness. He performs a feint instead, pretending that he is going for the weapon and waits for Jin Guangyao to make the first move before hurriedly ducking down and sliding through the space in between the latter’s boots. He swiftly makes a beeline for the exit, choosing the shortest path, but is still unable to outdo Jin Guangyao's quick reflexes and vicious precision.
The wind howls overhead as the tip of Hensheng slices through the air, whizzing down mercilessly in a wide arc. Jiang Xichen sidesteps the slash, immediately diving under a bookshelf. He is careful to stay out of sight as he skirts around its wooden legs and crawls towards the exit. Unfortunately for him, Jin Guangyao has been watching his every move intently and flings a talisman out towards the paperman the very moment he emerges from the other side of the shelf.
The talisman ignites in mid-air, bursting into wild flames.
Jiang Xichen springs back under the cover of the shelf at once and watches sombrely as the embers scorch the ground where they land, burning brightly for a moment before fizzling out.
Fire is a paper's worst enemy, and if he catches on fire in this form, his soul would be vaporized in an instant. The worst thing is that the activation of a fire talisman is exceedingly simple and does not require much spiritual energy, so the chance of Jiang Xichen running out of time before Jin Guangyao runs out of spiritual energy is also much higher.
No matter how he looks at it, both solutions he is currently presented with are both dead-ends.
"How long are you going to stay hiding for?"
Jiang Xichen remains silent, biding his time.
"Even after seven years, running still seems to be the only thing you are good at doing," Jin Guangyao taunts, puncturing his vicious words with cheery chuckles. "Running and hiding after your family got massacred, running and hiding after you killed your sister, and even now, you are still running and hiding away from the truth instead of facing it head-on. Have you not learned your lesson yet, Jiang Xichen?"
The brutal truth disorientates Jiang Xichen when it is cruelly put into words, and the resulting guilt that wells up within the man inevitably causes him to freeze up.
Noticing that his well-played strategy has worked out, Jin Guangyao then activates a second fire talisman and prepares to go in for the kill. Unfortunately for him, the repeated usage of his spiritual energy has finally roused the dormant resentment within Nie Mingjue's dismembered head.
Black thorns sprout out from behind the dark curtain, speeding towards Jin Guangyao with a murderous intensity.
Jin Guangyao twists Hensheng in the air, endeavouring to wrap the silvery blade around the approaching tendrils before imbuing his weapon with energy like he usually does in his fights. However, the tendrils are mere wisps without a physical form, and they easily speed past the sword and send its owner flying into the wall.
A loud obnoxious crash resounds through the small confined space as chunks of loose debris clatter onto the ground.
Jiang Xichen peeks out from his hiding spot, confused. However, the realisation of what transpired quickly dawns on him when he notices the dark wisps clouding the air.
That's right! He had unwittingly broken Nie Mingjue’s seal of forbiddance during Empathy earlier, and now, the dismembered head does not have anything else to hold it back from finding Jin Guangyao and exacting revenge. In fact, the current situation mirrors that: even with Qin Su and himself in the same room, the only one Nie Mingjue’s resentment energy is attacking is Jin Guangyao!
Which in other words would mean that now is the optimal time for him to make a run for it.
With a newfound resolve and confidence, Jiang Xichen slides out from the crevice between the shelves and races towards the mirror as quickly as his legs could take him. From his peripheral vision, Jiang Xichen spots Jin Guangyao scrambling to his feet and desperately tossing the fire talisman in his direction, hoping to land a hit before he makes it out, but the dark mass snags the activated talisman clad with traces of Jin Guangyao's spiritual energy out of the air, dousing the flames instantly.
The Jin Sect Leader’s face twists in a mix of fury and disgust.
"Nie Mingjue, you scourge! What do you have against me?! No matter whether it's in the past or present, no matter whether you're alive or dead—you still keep interfering and getting in my way!"
Another loud bang comes from behind Jiang Xichen but he does not turn to find out what caused it. Instead, he dives head-first back out of the mirror. Once outside, he hastily flaps his wings and allows the breeze to pick him up into the air.
The time limit he had in this paperman is about to run out.
Jiang Xichen can feel it with the way his vision gets increasingly blurred and his paper body stiffer with each passing second. With no time to lose, Jiang Xichen decides to forgo any attempts at keeping a low profile as he flies in a straight line all the way back from the Fragrant Palace to the guest residences.
By chance, Lan Wanyin happens to swing the door open at the same moment and the resulting wind current sucks an unsuspecting Jiang Xichen directly into the room and tumbles him around the space in circles. Lan Wanyin freezes for a split second before gingerly plucking the disorientated paperman out from the air and setting him down flat on the unconscious Jiang Xichen’s forehead.
The spell breaks instantly with that, and Jiang Xichen's soul is forcibly thrusted back into his actual body. The impact knocks the wind out of his lungs, and Jiang Xichen snaps his eyes open at once, flipping onto his side and wheezing greedily for air.
The faint whiff of jasmine in the room catches his attention then, and the man hurriedly scrambles over to the table to douse the lighted incense out. He discovers with a start that his legs have been the lightest they have been in weeks, and the realisation that the curse mark must have eased makes him falter.
Is it because he found Nie Mingjue’s head?
By entering Empathy while being without a flesh body as a barrier, he had somehow managed to attune himself to Nie Mingjue’s resentment. However, this temporary mobility would probably not last for much longer.
"What happened?" Lan Wanyin asks after nimbly catching the disorientated man in his arms. He has no idea what Jiang Xichen had seen when he was out investigating but he is definitely acting a little strangely right now. "Did you find anything?"
Jiang Xichen does not answer his questions.
Worried but not wanting to push the man for answers, Lan Wanyin then cautiously reaches over to pour him a cup of tea, only to have Jiang Xichen backhandedly grabbing his wrist all of a sudden and roughly pushing the end of his white sleeve up his arm. The pale expanse of skin from Lan Wanyin’s hand up to his right elbow is revealed all at once, painting a stark contrast against the beet red flush beginning to stain the latter's cheeks.
"X-Xichen?”
Jiang Xichen ignores Lan Wanyin’s verbal protests and insistently presses three fingers against the latter’s pulse point, concentrating past Lan Wanyin's oddly erratic heartbeat to the flow of qi through his meridians.
It is normal for the most part, but Jiang Xichen finds a trace amount of resentment energy lingering within—an amount so minute that he would have missed if not for his sensitivity to the presence of the demonic energy, as well as his previous experiences with the same technique employed by Wen Qing to keep tabs on his condition.
Fortunately, the presence of the dark energy does not appear to have done much to Lan Wanyin's mental state yet and the damage to the other man’s golden core is also non-existent. However, its presence alone is sufficient to confirm Jiang Xichen’s suspicions.
Jiang Xichen exhales tiredly, skillfully leaving out the parts regarding Empathy as well as Jin Guangyao's scandal involving his half-sister, Qin Su.
"I chanced upon a bronze mirror at the Fragrant Palace, and it led to a secret room with Nie Mingjue’s head. There, I also discovered that Jin Guangyao once gave a jasmine-scented incense to Nie Mingjue, which induced an increase in the body's susceptibility to resentment energy and resulted in a premature qi deviation in the sect leader."
Lan Wanyin casts a sidelong glance at the snuffed out incense before turning his attention back to Jiang Xichen's fingers which are still resting on his pulse point. "I did not feel anything of the sort."
"Yet," Jiang Xichen corrects. "It usually begins by tempting the user with the whispers of their deepest desires. But perhaps, the amount inside you currently is still far too little for the effects to show significantly."
Lan Wanyin blanches despite Jiang Xichen’s reassurance, clenching his hands into fists as he recalls the uncharacteristic moment he had earlier when Jiang Xichen was still unconscious.
This is your second chance. Are you going to give it up too?
Just this one time. Believe us, he will never notice it!
The two statements repeat themselves in his head again, like a faulty record, and Lan Wanyin digs his blunt nails into his palms in shame.
Were those words the work of the resentment energy?
Was whatever he was intending to do… his deepest desire?
Lan Wanyin sucks in a sharp intake of breath, forcing his mind away from the shameless thoughts, to focus on the matter at hand first. "If that is the case, then we have to warn the other sects about this as soon as possible. I will go inform xiongzhang about it first."
Jiang Xichen shakes his head.
"That's not our priority at the moment. I believe that the reason Jin Guangyao extended this Discussion Conference from one to two weeks is not simply a mere coincidence. It's likely that it will take some time to build up the effects from the incense." He trails off with a sigh. "Besides, I don't think it would be easy for us to convince the other sects. Jin Guangyao is someone they trusted enough to put on the Chief Cultivator position. If we want to make the public suspect Jin Guangyao of being unethical, we will have to bring his crimes to light first."
The realisation dawns on Lan Wanyin. "By retrieving Chifeng-zun's head. But how...? If we wish to accuse Lianfang-zun, we will have to explain how we infiltrated the secret room, and will inevitably have to come clean about your usage of Paper Metamorphosis.”
This is indeed one of Jiang Xichen’s concerns.
The societal impression of demonic cultivation is extremely horrid. If the fact that they used a dark method is revealed, the credibility behind their claims will instantly take a nosedive. Furthermore, with Jin Guangyao's gift of glib, he will then seize the opportunity and turn the tables on them.
So the best solution for them right now is to ensure that their involvement is kept a secret from the masses and devise a situation where Jin Guangyao can't reject their request to search his secret room.
"Jin Guangyao spotted me on my way out, so we have to prioritise speed and get there before he can move the head elsewhere." Jiang Xichen eyes the qiankun pouches containing Nie Mingjue’s dismembered parts on the table. "We don't have the time to wait for them to rouse by themselves, so what we can do now is to provide the parts with enough resentment energy to aid their reassembly."
"Would that not be dangerous?"
"Don't worry. It's not as if I'm letting him run completely loose. All I need is for him to draw the attention of the cultivators on the way to the Fragrant Palace. Nie Huaisang will definitely recognise his elder brother, so we can count on him to throw a fuss about searching Jin Guangyao's residence."
Neither man says it aloud, but they both know that it is the one and only chance they will ever have if they go along with this plan. By bringing Nie Mingjue before Nie Huaisang, they are essentially returning the corpse to his younger brother for burial.
Whether Jin Guangyao is cornered with their plan or not, they have no reason to ask Nie Huaisang to give them Nie Mingjue’s corpse afterwards.
Lan Wanyin finally gives a curt nod after a moment of contemplation. "Indeed, a dismembered corpse trying to find its remaining body part is a classic textbook example that no one will likely suspect to be false."
"Well, that settles it then. Now all that I have to do is..." Jiang Xichen trails off as he rises to his feet and holds his hand up above the qiankun pouches. Tendrils of dark energy snake out from his fingertips at once, seeping into the bags and causing them to twitch incessantly.
As the two men watch, the dark strands connect the individual body parts to each other and proceed to steadily rearrange themselves into an upright figure reminiscent of the silhouette they encountered at the Mingshi. However, something seems fundamentally different—the way the corpse seems perfectly docile and isn't wildly lashing out at anyone unlike the previous occurrence.
"Nie Mingjue isn't moving of his own free will. I am controlling him by manipulating the resentment energy I just offered him," Jiang Xichen clarifies.
He had done a similar thing with the paper mannequins back at Yi City, where he used them to attack the corpses that swarmed him and the disguised Xue Yang. Although Nie Mingjue is not a completely inanimate object like the mannequins were, and hence will probably be more difficult to fully control, the concept behind the methodology will still remain the same.
Jiang Xichen rises to his feet alongside Nie Mingjue, all prepared to execute his plan when Lan Wanyin suddenly picks up Sandu and stands patiently by his side.
"I am coming with you."
Jiang Xichen blinks twice, slightly taken aback by the white-clothed man’s words, because the Lan Wanyin that he knew had always put his family and clan first—and there is no obvious need or benefit for him to reveal himself as Jiang Xichen’s ally in public yet.
There is just so much more Lan Wanyin could possibly lose rather than gain.
Both murder and dismemberment are huge crimes to accuse another person of. If Jin Guangyao manages to turn the tables on them, then both Lan Wanyin and the Lan Sect's reputation will inevitably be dragged through the mud too.
"I do not wish to regret my inactions again," Lan Wanyin explains at that moment, as if he had read Jiang Xichen’s thoughts. "If only I had done this, if only I had done that; these thoughts have been plaguing me in my waking hours for the past seven years. I never thought that I would ever get the chance to redeem myself, but now that I do, I do not intend to waste the opportunity."
I don't want to live with the same remorse and mistakes again—the implication behind Lan Wanyin’s unspoken thoughts are clear, and it resonates with Jiang Xichen.
He, too, has the same sentiments. That is why he refuses to kill anyone after Xue Yang, because he doesn't want to commit the same atrocities he did in his first life.
Jiang Xichen smiles, and takes Lan Wanyin’s hand in his own.
"Alright, let's go then."
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
"Why is everyone gathered in my residence? Could it be that the reception during the day wasn’t good enough and now everyone wishes to host an evening banquet at my place?"
Jin Guangyao walks calmly out of his bedchamber, only to momentarily freeze in place when he spots a restrained headless corpse before him, still holding the broken pieces of the Fragrant Palace's front door as he points determinedly at the bronze mirror in the bedchamber. Behind the corpse is a fainted Nie Huaisang, lying prone on the ground and surrounded by a circle of medics. "What on earth...?"
The sect leader’s expression morphs into one of surprise that makes the rest of the restless crowd uneasy, but Jiang Xichen had long since seen through the real Jin Guangyao to know that this reaction is nothing but a ruse. In fact, he is almost certain that the man has already comprehended the entire situation and what they are about to do, and is now coming up with suitable countermeasures for it.
They cannot afford to give Jin Guangyao the time to think.
When facing someone this sly and intelligent, it is imperative that they strike first and corner their opponent.
Understanding that, Lan Wanyin takes an unobtrusive step forward in the next moment, all prepared to interrogate Jin Guangyao as planned, but Wei Wuxian beats him to the punch.
"I am sure that that would be a question which no one other than Sect Leader Jin can answer." Wei Wuxian’s tone is placid, but the edges of his accusations are razor sharp.
Jin Guangyao notices this and is quick to defend himself.
"What do you mean by that, Sect Leader Wei? I have just been rudely woken up by this. No matter how I look at it, all of you present here should have a better grasp on the current situation than I do."
Wei Wuxian doesn't allow Jin Guangyao to feign ignorance. "If we are talking about the exact reason why Chifeng-zun is here, sure. However, what's of concern right now is how and why Chifeng-zun's corpse is even here in the first place. Koi Tower is Lanling Jin’s base. Surely the fortification here isn't poor enough for a headless corpse to wander in on his own, completely unnoticed?"
With those flippant sentences, Wei Wuxian has essentially made a bold statement—that Nie Mingjue was in Koi Tower all along, and that someone from the Jin Sect is responsible for his death.
The whole room falls completely silent instantly, and Wei Wuxian takes the chance to continue speaking.
"Dismembered corpses are a textbook example. We all know what their main wish is. And since our headless Chifeng-zun has blatantly charged straight here, then that can only mean the thing he is looking for is inside, right, Lan Zhan?"
Lan Wangji takes a step forward at that, standing shoulder to shoulder with his husband, and levels Jin Guangyao with a cold stare. "Mn."
Jin Guangyao glances from the two sect leaders to their far left where Lan Wanyin and Jiang Xichen are, and his expression promptly hardens.
Jiang Xichen returns Jin Guangyao's glower with a challenging look of his own, and it is not until the corners of Jin Guangyao's lips curl up discreetly into a small sly smirk that Jiang Xichen is a hundred percent sure the fox still has something up his sleeve.
As if on cue, someone then steps forward amidst the crowd. "People always say that the Gusu Lan Sect values conduct the most. Seeing from this, it seems that rumours are only rumours. Forcefully barging into the bedchamber of a sect leader is indeed exemplary conduct."
The group turns to stare at the sarcastic man who spoke—Su She, the sect leader of the rising Moling Su Sect.
Sect Leader Su is dressed in pale fabrics, which have a very similar cut to Gusu Lan’s robes. With slender eyes, fine brows, and thin lips, Su She's fair features paint quite a handsome image, although the lofty air of arrogance about him along with his unnecessarily sharp words seemingly puts his fellow cultivators off.
"If Sect Leader Jin truly has nothing to hide, why not allow us to enter and search? Not only would it prevent mindless rumours from spreading, it would also put Sect Leader Nie’s worries to rest,” Jiang Xichen interjects, stepping up to the challenge, and gestures toward the unconscious Nie Huaisang who had promptly fainted from the shock of seeing his elder brother’s moving headless corpse.
Restless murmurs begin to cycle through the crowd yet again as they start considering Jiang Xichen’s suggestion.
Not only is it simple and reasonable, but also likely the only way Jin Guangyao can prove himself to be totally innocent. However, Jiang Xichen knows exactly why the man can't afford to do that.
Even if he had somehow managed to subdue Nie Mingjue’s head and stash it somewhere else, it remains virtually impossible for Jin Guangyao to have been able to transport Qin Su away without anybody knowing within such a short span of time.
The fact that the man himself is currently before their eyes now can only mean that he did not use a transportation talisman, and judging from Qin Su’s current state, it is impossible for her to have either the spiritual power or the intention to use such a talisman.
As such, Jiang Xichen has no doubt that Qin Su must still be in the secret room, and whether she is alive or dead, her current deteriorated mental and physical state would most certainly deal a heavy blow to people’s trust in Jin Guangyao.
Thus, the very moment Jin Guangyao gives in and agrees to let them into his secret room, he would have already lost this match.
The Jin Sect Leader knows this, and the corner of his left eye twitches in displeasure as he glares fixedly at Jiang Xichen.
The latter returns the glower with a good-natured smile, thinking that he has finally scored an upper hand against Jin Guangyao, but to his utmost surprise, the other man simply straightens his back in the next moment and gives a loud exaggerated sigh.
“Forget it, forget it. It doesn't seem like you all intend to give it a rest until you check every inch of my residence, so just go ahead. It is not as though I own any disreputable objects. Since the body is pointing to the bronze mirror, I will open my secret room as well. That way, we can clear everyone's doubts once and for all.”
Jin Guangyao walks back into his bedchamber without even a shred of hesitation, and places his hand over the bronze mirror, drawing a series of formless incantations on its surface.
Following directly after him are the Jin disciples, then the Lans, Jiangs, Nies, and finally, the other sects.
Once inside, Jiang Xichen is back on guard immediately, keeping his eyes peeled for any signs of traps because he can't fathom why else Jin Guangyao would have given in this easily.
Unfortunately for him, almost nothing seems to have changed from the last time Jiang Xichen was in the room. The black curtain covered in runes is still hanging over the cabinet, and the long iron table is still in the middle of the room.
However, Qin Su is no longer lying on it. Instead, she is standing beside the table with her back to the guests.
“Why is Jin-furen here?”
Jin Guangyao perks up at the random question posed by one of the cultivators. “That is nothing out of the ordinary. All of our possessions are shared. A-Su often comes in here to look at things as well.”
Coming in voluntarily and being forcefully dragged in are two very different things!
Worried for Qin Su's well-being, Jiang Xichen takes several steps to the side and turns to scrutinize the fraction of her profile he can see from this angle. However, what he finds baffles him.
Not only is Qin Su still very much alive, there is almost nothing unusual about her at all. Although her expression is rather blank, she does not have any of the usual tell-tale symptoms of being in a trance or drugged.
Yet, the more conscious she appears to be, the stranger the entire situation seems to Jiang Xichen.
He had witnessed with his own two eyes just how strong Qin Su’s negative emotions towards her husband were earlier. How could Jin Guangyao have possibly reached an agreement with her within such a short period of time—enough to trust that she would not blabber before such a huge group?
It would only take a single misstep for Jin Guangyao’s long years of hardship and scheming to all come tumbling down. With just one word from Qin Su, all of Jin Guangyao's efforts would be naught.
And Jiang Xichen knows that Jin Guangyao is not a person who would willingly take such uncalculated risks.
Unless... that is his plan? Perhaps he wants to have Qin Su do or say something in public?
But what, and why?
An inexplicable sense of foreboding grows in Jiang Xichen.
He edges further away from the cultivators, over to the curtain shrouding the treasure cabinet and lifts one of its corners to chance a peek in. But just as he had feared, Nie Mingjue’s head is no longer behind the fabric. Instead, there is only a sword—the same black sword that he had seen on a cabinet earlier, except that there is no longer a layer of dust on the weapon, allowing Jiang Xichen to finally be able to take in its beauty.
The straight blade is almost three and seven tenth chi2 long and the width of two fingers wide. The hilt is made of sandalwood and stained black. There is no decorative carving on the hilt, only a white pearl embedded at the very end, bordered by a thin strip of gold.
“Is Lan Huan-gongzi interested in this sword?” Jin Guangyao says as he walks over and picks the weapon off its display. “This sword belonged to a demonic cultivator. It seems that the owner suffered tremendous mental and physical torture and with the last of his sanity, decided to seal one of his souls into his blade.3 It has a tremendous amount of dark energy, so I have always kept it behind this curtain. Would you like to test it out?"
"No–" Jiang Xichen begins, but before he knows it, his hands are already reaching out on their own, and he readily accepts the sword from Jin Guangyao's hands.
The weight of the weapon is comforting on his palms, nostalgic, as if he had once wielded it like Shuoyue.
Jiang Xichen blinks, a nauseating feeling of discomfort settling upon him, and yet, Jiang Xichen finds himself immediately beginning drawing the sword as if out of habit.
He unsheathes an excellent blade that has been thoroughly tempered with the skills of a seasoned genius blacksmith. Even after having been shelved for a long period of time, the blade itself is still pristine and untainted, and the glint of candlelight across its sharp edge is tinged gold, as if it is part of a lucid crescent moon.
"It is a great sword," Jiang Xichen comments with a stiff smile, unable to draw his eyes away from the body of the weapon as the two words xian yue4 is revealed inch by inch.
Xianyue?
Jiang Xichen frowns, brows furrowing in thought. He does not have any recollection of a sword by that name, yet he knows it must have been a prolific cultivator for Jin Guangyao to keep it in his treasure stash… or perhaps it is someone Jin Guangyao had a personal enmity towards?
Xianyue. Shifu named the sword this because I wanted it to become something that will remind you of home. I wanted it to become a beacon that will lead you home. No matter where you are, no matter where you will be, I wanted to—
Empathy?!
Jiang Xichen feels the innate pull the sword induces on his soul again. It is akin to a warm invitation, beckoning him into the beginnings of an unfolding story, but unlike the occurrence with Nie Mingjue's severed head, Jiang Xichen is in his physical body now and possesses the will to reject it.
"A-Su, is something the matter?" Jin Guangyao's voice snaps Jiang Xichen’s attention back to reality just in time to notice that the woman who had been standing silently all this time is approaching him out of the blue.
However, there is something terribly odd about Qin Su that Jiang Xichen can't put his finger on.
"Jin-furen...?" Jiang Xichen echoes the confusion in Jin Guangyao's tone as the blank-faced woman reaches out to clutch Jiang Xichen’s dominant hand in both of hers. Jiang Xichen blinks twice in succession, not knowing how he should react to her gesture. But before he is able to voice his concerns, Qin Su suddenly tugs the sword towards herself and hacks it down through her neck within a flash!
Her eyes bulge, pupils dilating from the excruciating pain, as she struggles to speak. Her mouth opens and closes, but nothing other than a gurgling sound escapes from her. Tears pour down her cheeks incessantly, mixing with the mucus leaking steadily from her nostrils and the fresh blood spilling copiously from her lips.
"W-Why…?" Qin Su manages to choke out mere seconds before she wraps her fingers around Xianyue, and yanks the blade right out. The metal drags against raw flesh, squelching horridly, then a flash of scarlet from the exposed vessels paints the air next, splattering in an arc across Jiang Xichen’s face and robes.
Blood. There is so much blood.
The horrified man stumbles away from the pooling vermilion at once, his body freezing up in a mix of shock and denial. His ears ache with the horrible echo of the squelches, and his hands begin shaking with the lingering sensation of a sword piercing through flesh.
It is a sensation that he never thought he would feel again.
It is a sensation which he never wants to feel again.
Tears sting the corner of Jiang Xichen’s eyes, blurring his vision and making his memory of Jiang Yanli’s limp body overlap with Qin Su’s as Jin Guangyao scrambles forward to cradle his wife’s lifeless corpse before it meets the ground.
Jin Guangyao's expression is one of shock and despair. He starts off with repeated soft whispers of Qin Su’s name while reaching down to cup her bloodied face with one hand, running the pad of his thumb across her pale cheek. However, his shoulders begin to shake when she remains completely unresponsive, and before long, the desperate Jin Sect Leader completely breaks down into anguished sobs and mournful wails.
"A-Su? A-Su, please answer me! Open your eyes. Open your eyes and look at me!"
"Shijie? Shijie, please answer me! Open your eyes. Open your eyes and look at me!"
Jiang Xichen gasps, nearly tripping over his own feet when he notices how the two scenes have completely aligned with each other. In his mind, Jiang Xichen knows that this has to be a ruse—there is no way there could be such a coincidence—but knowing that it is a ploy doesn't help the emotional burden that he is being put through.
He still hasn't gotten over his sister's death after all.
Even after seven years, Jiang Xichen still can't forgive himself. He still thinks that he is to be blamed, and the sensation of himself plunging Xianyue into Qin Su's throat just further helps to cement his impression.
Jin Guangyao snaps his head up at Jiang Xichen’s sharp intake of breath, his reddened eyes clearing up as though he had just noticed the other man. Jin Guangyao lowers his gaze to the weapon in Jiang Xichen’s hand, the sword which is still slick with fresh blood.
“Why… Lan Huan-gongzi, please explain why… Why did you kill A-Su? What did A-Su ever do to you?!”
Jin Guangyao’s voice is akin to a versatile piece of art, able to change according to the needs of the situation. Now, it is trembling with each word he utters, making the sobbing man appear almost pitiful, hunched over on the floor while cradling his late wife to his chest.
On the contrary, Jiang Xichen seems almost arrogant with the way he is stiffly standing straight, towering over the couple.
The image of the scene, coupled with Jin Guangyao's dialogue and the fact that no one managed to clearly catch what had transpired, makes it inevitable that the spectators instantly take Jin Guangyao’s words at face value.
However, that is not all the crafty Jin Guangyao has planned.
“Lan Huan?” Su She scoffs at the name as he holds his hand out in front of Lan Wanyin to stop him from making his way over to Jiang Xichen. “I am afraid to break the news to you, Sect Leader Jin, but this person is not of the Lan Clan. As everyone present is aware, I have previously spent nearly two decades in the Gusu Lan Sect yet I have never met this particular gentleman there even once.”
Jin Guangyao glances unblinkingly between Su She and Jiang Xichen, his chest heaving as if he has still not caught up with the new information. “But Sect Leader Lan said that this guest is—”
Su She arches a thin brow skywards. "It seems that this demonic cultivator's sins know no bounds. Not only has he hoodwinked the Lan Sect, he has also attempted to deceive the masses. But Sect Leader Jin, surely you of all people, would remember Song Hengyi of Baixue Temple, right?"
"Song Hengyi…" Jin Guangyao repeats numbly, his tone mirroring the confusion he feels when Su She randomly brings the name up. Then, as though a eureka moment hits the man, Jin Guangyao’s eyes widen all of a sudden. "You! You are Song Hengyi! But how? We clearly executed you in public!”
“A demonic cultivator controls everything on the dark side. How is it any more surprising even if we find out now that Song Hengyi is proficient in the dark arts of necromancy and was able to fake his own death?” Su She continues speaking, his words firm and logical, leaving no space for Lan Wanyin or anyone else to interject.
Jin Guangyao’s countenance changes to a nasty shade of red, fuelled by both anger and grief. “If you really are Song Hengyi then it all makes sense. I was wondering why you showed such a keen interest in Xianyue earlier! To think that it's because… because… Answer me, Song Hengyi! Why did you kill A-Su? Is it for revenge?!"
All the people both inside and outside the treasure room burst into an uproar upon hearing Jin Guangyao’s bold statement.
Jiang Xichen does not know the specifics of what happened to Song Hengyi, however, everyone else present does. Although they cannot fully remember Song Hengyi’s facial features after nearly five years, the details of his heinous crimes are still engraved deeply in their minds: practicing demonic cultivation, slaughtering his entire clan in cold blood, followed by a blatant attempt to pin the crime onto the reputable Lanling Jin Sect.
“How deplorable! To think you’d target the Lan Sect after failing to win against the Jin Sect! Do you have no shame?!”
"Look at him! He must be the one that killed and controlled Chifeng-zun!"
"Yes! It would be easy for a demonic cultivator to manipulate resentment energy! He must have staged this to try to accuse Lianfang-zun again! Truly shameless!"
After the first cultivator hurls a string of profanities at Jiang Xichen, the others quickly join in by pointing and sneering as well, and their ugly insults coalesce into a cacophony of voices that resound through the room.
"You wretched jinx. You killed your family."
"Ingrate! Son of a bitch! Fucking murderer!"
Jiang Xichen’s fingers twitch and he takes a half-step back unobtrusively at the insults. They are not specifically directed at him, but it affects him all the same, each syllable figuratively drawing blood.
Cold sweat streams down in torrents, soaking through his garment, and Jiang Xichen shivers involuntarily. He feels as if he is on trial at Lanling Jin again, faced with a huge crowd of people who all want him dead.
His gaze meets Lan Wanyin’s, but only a chilling frost remains in the void which was once filled with warmth and comfort.
All he feels at the moment is a heavy sense of dread and despair crushing his insides. His ears are humming, vision swimming, and his breathing grows laboured and disordered.
Amidst the chatter of the crowd, Jin Guangyao lays Qin Su’s corpse down and slowly stands up. With one hand on the hilt of Hensheng, he takes a threatening step closer to Jiang Xichen. "Song Hengyi, I won't bring up any of your crimes from the past so please answer this honestly. A-Su's bizarre death… are you involved in it at all?"
Jiang Xichen grits his teeth together in frustration, unable to think of anything reasonable to say in refutation.
What could he possibly say?
That he saw Nie Mingjue’s head? How he snuck into the secret room? The name of the person who Qin Su saw before she died? The burnt letter that could easily be fictitious and fabricated? Such claims with no plausible evidence to back them up will merely serve to make him appear suspicious.
As Jiang Xichen tries desperately to conjure another plan, Hensheng has already unsheathed and is swooping toward him.
Lan Wanyin sends out Sandu at once in retaliation from across the room, clashing into Hensheng from the side and blocking the flexible sword’s path. A sharp clang pierces through the air when the two blades clash, and Hensheng is repelled away, back into Jin Guangyao’s hand.
Within an instant, all the Lanling Jin's disciples unsheathe their swords, pointing them at Lan Wanyin. At the same time, two blades come at Jiang Xichen from the side, and a third from behind.
Jiang Xichen fends off the attacks easily with Xianyue, but the moment he takes his eyes off Jin Guangyao, he realises that he has fallen irrevocably into the man's trap.
The hold he has over the resentment energy planted in Nie Mingjue’s corpse wavers, and the very instant Jiang Xichen’s concentration slips, an invading force promptly seizes control of the energy instead. Startled, Jiang Xichen wrestles the control back immediately, but the few seconds it earns is more than sufficient for the Stygian Tiger Seal.
Jin Guangyao's plan is not to control Nie Mingjue for long after all—but merely to use him to instigate more ill-will against them.
Jiang Xichen realises this a fraction of a second too late, only after Nie Mingjue’s corpse has already lashed out with a wide swing of his arm, which induces a dark wave to surge forth and crash down on the cultivators outside the secret room.
The cultivators caught in the attack scream in terror, raising a commotion about Nie Mingjue going berserk, and the confused individuals in the mirror room instantly pin that on Jiang Xichen.
"It's him! He is trying to use Chifeng-zun's corpse to create an opening to escape!"
"Someone, stop that scourge!"
Dozens of sword glares shoot toward Jiang Xichen all at once, each one more anxious than the next to be the one to put the criminal down.
Jiang Xichen springs backward, putting a wide berth between himself and his attackers, and tightens his grip on Xianyue.
This is his only physical weapon currently. However, the more Jiang Xichen decides to rely on Xianyue, the more he becomes attuned to the roar of resentment within the blade.
Jin Guangyao had mentioned earlier that the owner of the sword was tortured, then resorted to sealing a part of his soul into the blade, but something feels amiss.
The amount of resentment is much too strong for that. It outrivals even Nie Mingjue’s, and the reason why the sword itself hasn't gone into a frenzy is because the soul sealed in it doesn't want to kill, but to tell.
To make Jin Guangyao's heinous crimes known to the world.
And to do that, the soul fragment inside Xianyue had to first let someone know the truth.
Jiang Xichen frowns against the insistent pull of Empathy against his will, fumbling with the sword as he grits his teeth and presses a finger against his throbbing temple. A brief scent of lotus surrounds him and before Jiang Xichen knows it, Lan Wanyin has already sprung close to him, their clothed backs pressing together.
Sandu swoops forth in the next moment, blocking off all the attacks efficiently with a curved slice and throwing a line of people to the side to clear a path in the same motion. He grabs Jiang Xichen by the elbow, half-dragging the disorientated man over to the portal.
Jin Guangyao mutters a series of incantations under his breath, adamant on sealing off their only exit and trapping them in the secret room. However, his knowledge and proficiency at using arrays never stood a chance against natural talent, and Lan Wanyin easily counters the spell.
The closing of the mirror's portal stalls for a split second, and both men take the opportunity to dart out, breaking into a sprint the moment they pass through the spatial distortion.
Jiang Xichen reels in the dark energy from Nie Mingjue just before he rounds the corner, and ventures a glance backward—only to spot Wei Wuxian stepping through the portal.
"Cheng-di!" Wei Wuxian yells after them, his voice washing out the indignant grunts of the several annoyed sect leaders who had keeled over from Sandu's cold energy.
Lan Wangji steps out from the secret room next. However, unlike Wei Wuxian who looks worried, Lan Wangji’s aura simply radiates pure anger.
Of course! Because he told you to investigate the case discreetly, but you've not only dragged the matter out into the open and tarnished the reputation of his sect, you are even eloping with his younger brother!
Jiang Xichen casts a sidelong glance at Lan Wanyin as they dash down the stairs of Koi Tower, the crowd behind them hot on their heels.
"Wanyin, go back, you don't have to follow me."
Having Jin Guangyao instigate the cultivation world to turn against them was not something completely unexpected. He had come into this prepared for the possibility of this outcome, but there is still a part in Jiang Xichen that wishes to salvage the situation, at least for Lan Wanyin.
Because unlike him, Lan Wanyin had never done anything wrong in the eyes of society. He could very well go back and claim that all of his previous actions were due to him being deceived and controlled by Song Hengyi, and there will be no lack of people believing the tale.
However, Lan Wanyin does not even give his suggestion a second thought. "I want to."
"But if you walk out of this door today, your reputation will be destroyed! You'll be known as someone who sides with evil. You might even never be able to return to your sect!"
Jiang Xichen’s words seem to have struck a raw nerve because Lan Wanyin falters slightly then, the hesitation evident in the depths of his eyes. However, the trace of emotion vanishes as quickly as it surfaces.
"I was well aware of the potential consequences when I agreed to your plan, Xichen, and I have no wish to go back against my word now. I am coming with you."
I am coming with you.
Those were the words Jiang Xichen desperately wanted to hear someone say to him in his previous life. He wanted someone to willingly stay by his side. He wanted someone to acknowledge that they would still accept him no matter how wretched he had become—coreless, decaying and twisted with evil.
But now, everything is already a lifetime too late.
Yet strangely, Jiang Xichen still finds Lan Wanyin’s words tugging at his heartstrings. It is akin to a deep-seated fondness that comes bubbling up in him, and there is nothing Jiang Xichen desires more than to pull Lan Wanyin into his arms right at this very moment.
Instead, he simply smiles.
“It’s Jin Guangyao," Jiang Xichen says then, his voice barely louder than a whisper, but the widening of Lan Wanyin's eyes is a clear indication that the latter heard him. "The second person is Jin Guangyao.”
What he said is a simple statement that may seem utterly meaningless to any other person, but Lan Wanyin and Jiang Xichen have been through weal and woe together long enough to understand the layered meanings behind each other's words.
And Lan Wanyin understands that this revelation is not merely a sign of Jiang Xichen’s trust in him, but also by extension, a confession.
Jiang Xichen had once decided against revealing who the second person is, because he had no intention of ever going along with the sacrificial ritual's demands, so the reason for him saying this now can only mean...
The tips of Lan Wanyin's ears flare bright red and he grabs Jiang Xichen’s wrist, lips parting as though he is about to speak. However, a flash of white appears behind them before Lan Wanyin manages to even get a single word out.
A frosty sword glare glints across their cheeks, and Jiang Xichen barely has the time to turn around before a coldness passes through his stomach.
There is no pain—not yet—but Lan Wanyin’s eyes widen with horror and disbelief as his elder brother withdraws Bichen out from Jiang Xichen’s abdomen, the white blade stained scarlet with dripping blood.
"X-Xiongzhang...?"
Jiang Xichen holds a hand out before Lan Wanyin as a gesture for the latter to calm down. "It’s alright. This is the only way."
"It is the only way," Lan Wangji agrees, his tone flat.
It is indeed the only feasible way for them to show the masses that the Gusu Lan Sect is not an accomplice, and also create an opening for Jiang Xichen and Lan Wanyin to escape. The only sacrifice they have to make is the spillage of some blood on both sides to make their act more believable, but that is a small price to pay.
Lan Wangji raises Bichen again, preparing to swing it down upon Jiang Xichen’s neck.
"Strange of us to finally have something we agree on," Jiang Xichen chuckles as he thrusts his palm up and against Lan Wangji's chest.
Dark tendrils whirl to life behind Jiang Xichen, and springs forth all at once, hurtling right into the centre of the Lan Sect Leader's chest. The resulting impact sends the latter flying backward.
Lan Wangji immediately lowers his blade and scrapes the tip of Bichen against the stone ground, but despite so, only manages to break his fall at the very last moment—just before he crashes into the pursuing mob.
The cultivators behind him halt at once, none of them willing to take a step further. What chance do they stand if even Hanguang-jun was sent flying with a wave of the demonic cultivator's arm?
The only person who seems undeterred is Su She, who furrows his brows as he determinedly draws his sword, Nanping.
Jiang Xichen takes a step back, exerting pressure with a hand on his wound, and grimaces when the stream of warm blood continues trickling down from between his fingers. "I'm fine. Let's go."
Knowing that escaping is a better course of action right now, Lan Wanyin grimly swallows his protests back down. Hastily, he slings the injured man's limp arm over his shoulder and leaps atop the hovering Sandu and speeds off before Su She can catch up.
“Where to?”
Jiang Xichen tightens his grip on Xianyue and sneaks a guilty peek back toward Wei Wuxian who is currently fussing over his injured husband. Wei Wuxian glances up furtively and their eyes meet for a split second before Jiang Xichen hurriedly tears his gaze away.
“Lotus Pier.”
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
Jiang Xichen can’t quite clearly remember what happened since they escaped from Koi Tower on Sandu. He doesn't know how long has passed, but when he opens his eyes hazily again, he notices that the moonlight-drenched scenery below them is still rather foreign.
It is admittedly beautiful—with towering mountains and lush treelines stretching on for as far as the eyes can see, yet there is not even a single glittering lotus lake in sight.
They have not crossed the borders to Yunmeng yet.
“Wanyin,” Jiang Xichen croaks, voice hoarse and throat parched. “Are we nearly there?”
“No. Not yet.”
Lan Wanyin’s breathing is far from being as placid and even as usual. His voice is choked and nasally, and Jiang Xichen discovers with a start that the man had been crying. Upon coming to that realisation, an emotion that Jiang Xichen never felt before sprouts within his heart.
It is a little akin to sorrow, making his chest hurt a bit, yet also makes him feel oddly warm.
Jiang Xichen's lips curl into a smile, although it takes nearly all of his energy just to ensure that his grip on Xianyue is still secure.
“Don’t worry, I’m fine. You should know better than anyone else that your brother has impeccable control over his swordsmanship.”
In all honesty, the wound on his stomach does not hurt nearly as much as Jiang Xichen had expected it to. He does not know if it is a plan Lan Wangji had hatched with Wei Wuxian, but the latter had taken extra care to avoid his vitals while still choosing a spot with higher blood flow to make the injury appear more serious than it actually is.
That being said, it is still a stab wound after all.
At the beginning, Jiang Xichen was able to manage for a while since Song Hengyi’s body is quite sturdy and his damaged golden core can aid in some degree of healing. But now, all that remains is lightheadedness and lethargy from the blood loss.
“I know,” Lan Wanyin replies, tightening his grip on Jiang Xichen almost painfully. “Don’t speak anymore. Just rest, we will reach Lotus Pier by the next time you wake.”
Jiang Xichen nods numbly, resting his cheek tiredly against the streaks of scarlet disfiguring the back of Lan Wanyin’s snow white garment. He briefly registers that as his own blood, before the energy buzzing within Xianyue drags him under into his second session of Empathy that day.
Notes:
1. Dāo (刀): single-edged, although it can either be straight (in this fic) or curved (usually from the Song dynasty onwards). A dao is also commonly known as a sabre or knife. Jiàn (剑) on the other hand is a double-edged straight sword which is what most of the cultivators in mdzs use. Back
2. Chĭ (尺) is a unit of measurement, with each being ~0.3m long. Hence, this sword would be about 1.11m long. Back
3. In Taoism, it is said that a person has three hún and seven pò (三魂七魄) and one of these was willingly sealed into the sword. As for what each soul does and exactly which is sealed is too much detail to go into right now and you can read more here if you are interested. Back
4. Xián yuè (弦月): crescent moon. Back***
“Lan Zhan, ah, Lan Zhan, let me ask you!” Wei Wuxian says as he stretches out on their shared bed while grinning at the Lan cultivator still sitting at the table. “Was that person with Cheng-di earlier, someone I know?”
Lan Wangji does not even bat an eyelid, choosing to remain completely motionless in response.
Wei Wuxian pouts, puffing his cheeks up as he leaps to his feet and circles around the table while he continues speaking. “There is something about the way he and Cheng-di gaze at each other that just feels straaaaaangely familiar, you know~?”
Lan Wangji remains silent. His expression has darkened, but that alone is insufficient to validate Wei Wuxian’s suspicions.
Wei Wuxian plops himself down on the chair opposite his husband. “You Lans are really incorrigible. Alright, alright, why don’t we do it like this? If what I say is correct then you blink once and if what I say is wrong, then you blink twice! This way, you can’t exactly call it talking behind another person’s back, right?”
Lan Wangji rises to his feet. “It is the hour of hai. It is time to rest.”
“Oi, Lan Zhan, you...!” Wei Wuxian grouses, but is unable to stop his husband from slipping under the covers. Sulking, Wei Wuxian then reaches over to grab the unused incense burner left in their room, hoping that it would be a scent that would help calm his nerves and placate his anger—only to sneeze at the smell of jasmine, which he is allergic to.
Rolling his eyes, Wei Wuxian eyes the open window and promptly tosses the floral-scented contents out into the yard.
Chapter 25: Ruined
Chapter Text
<EMPATHY>
“Xue Chengmei of Kuizhou?” Song Hengyi perks up at the mention of the unfamiliar name.
He had heard some unpleasant stories about the delinquent even when he was back at Baixue Temple. However, nothing much about Xue Yang had stood out enough for Song Hengyi to take notice, not until Xiao Xingchen mentions his name out of the blue. "Is he somehow related to the case Xingchen-ge and Shixiong have been investigating?"
"The Chang Clan," Song Lan interjects, casting a glance askance at Song Hengyi. "You said Shifu sent you to assist us with our investigations. Did he not fill you in on the basic information?"
Song Hengyi averts his gaze sheepishly.
Neither men have to put it clearly in words to comprehend that there is no way their shifu would permit Song Hengyi to leave Baixue Temple for this very reason. Their shifu has an immense dislike for the outside world, and by extension—for Xiao Xingchen, who he presumes led his head disciple astray and made him harbour the desire to see the world beyond Baixue Temple's walls.
"That old shrivelled prune told me that if I left, I will never be welcomed back there again, yet you honestly want me to believe that he would send you here to help me out? Tell me honestly, Hengyi. Did he ask you to come here to stir up trouble?"
Song Hengyi narrows his eyes, livid at Song Lan's baseless accusation. "Is this how you see Shifu...? He might not approve of your decision to leave, but he will never stoop low enough to get in your way like this."
The air between the two youths turns awkwardly frigid all at once, neither of them willing to back down on their stance.
Of course, Song Hengyi understands better than anyone else that Song Lan does not actually see their shifu in such a terrible light—the man is their only parental figure after all; however Song Lan has always been quick to anger but bad at apologising and taking his words back, and these traits are shared by all three obstinate Songs.
Xiao Xingchen clears his throat purposefully, relieving the palpable tension electrifying the air. "Regardless of why Hengyi is here, this is still the first time the two of you have met in a while. I am sure there is a lot to talk about and catch up on. Why don't we set the issues aside for now and try some of the local Yiling delicacies together? I heard that there is a famous spicy hotpot store just round the corner."
A dark cloud of gloom immediately befalls both Song Lan and Song Hengyi, their expressions rapidly darkening.
"I absolutely refuse to. Xingchen, just the thought of needing to share the soup base with another person is off-putting."
"No thank you. Xingchen-ge, I appreciate your generosity but the mere thought of spice is off-putting."
Xiao Xingchen chuckles, smiling at each of them in turn. “Good gracious, you two really only ever agree with each other when it comes to food."
"What are you saying, Xingchen? Our taste in food is completely different. I have no qualms against spice, I just find it odd to eat with others from the same plate."
"What are you saying, Xingchen-ge? Our taste in food is completely different. I am not mysophobic like him, I just have a low tolerance for spice."
Xiao Xingchen laughs into his sleeve, the sound mellifluous like the refreshing tinkle of a windchime despite the sweltering heat from the summer afternoon sun. "Look, that's exactly what I meant!"
Jiang Xichen blinks twice then, finding himself looking out at the world through Song Hengyi’s point of view. However, before he can make heads or tails of his situation, the entire scene with Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen crumbles away like a broken distorted memory—then in the place of the heat bearing down upon him earlier is now the feeling of a cool, hard surface against his back, as well as an acute pain lancing across his chest.
Jiang Xichen recoils, snapping his eyes open, and comes face to face with a familiar pair of bright eyes which he wishes he will never have to see in this lifetime ever again.
Xue Yang?!
What is he doing here? Isn't he dead?
It takes Jiang Xichen a moment to recover his bearings sufficiently to recognise that he is currently in Jin Guangyao's secret room, strapped to a table, and the yellow-robed Xue Yang before him is undeniably younger than the man he'd met at Yi city.
This can only mean that this is yet another scene in Song Hengyi's Empathy, and likely a memory from back when Xue Yang was still a guest disciple at the Lanling Jin Sect.
"Oh? You're finally conscious again~" Xue Yang’s face twists into a sadistic smirk, revealing his sharp canine teeth. He runs his tongue along the flat of his blade, savouring the crimson traces on it. "And just in time, I'd say. I just sharpened this blade. Let me test it on you. You'll let me test it on you, right?"
A crippling combination of fear and hatred grips Jiang Xichen as Xue Yang inches over with a maniacal grin. He had seen that same expression once in Yi city and it did not bode well—though the fear overtaking Jiang Xichen at this moment is not from being unable to guess what Xue Yang has planned, but instead, from the fact that he himself is not in control.
Being trapped in Empathy with Song Hengyi means that he will experience everything from the latter’s perspective, and go through as many memories as the latter intends to show him. However, that does not mean he is granted any capabilities to overwrite and change anything, because at its crux, the flow of events materialising from Empathy are just mere memories.
Thus, all Jiang Xichen can do is watch helplessly as Xue Yang runs the blade of his sharp knife across Song Hengyi’s chest, leaving a long but shallow cut in its wake. Fresh blood immediately beads on the surface, red specks gathering into heavy droplets which trickle down and away.
Song Hengyi’s meridians are locked, impeding his flow of qi and making it impossible for him to heal using his golden core, but despite so, Jiang Xichen can easily tell that Song Hengyi’s level of cultivation is far higher than what he had expected and experienced in the man's body.
How did someone this skilled get his core damaged? Was it a qi deviation induced by resentment energy? Did Xue Yang and Jin Guangyao have something to do with it?
Xue Yang slices him across the chest again before Jiang Xichen is even able to collate his thoughts, making sure to gouge his dagger in deeper this time. Song Hengyi lets out a low hiss and presses his lips into a thin line, but the pain which follows from Xue Yang digging his fingers into the open wound eventually drags a scream out of the captive, making him thrash about wildly against the sturdy chains holding him down.
"Calm down. It took me so much time and effort to find a body double for his public execution. I am afraid I can't prepare another plaything for you again on such short notice if you kill him on accident." Jin Guangyao’s voice comes from behind, when the man steps through the mirror portal.
“Because the other sect leaders are getting suspicious?” Xue Yang chuckles, laughter rumbling through his chest as he pulls back from the writhing Song Hengyi. You know, I never understood why you are so afraid of them. We are in the shadows while they are in the light. All we have to do is to pass them the same incense we used to take Chifeng-zun down. No one would even suspect a thing."
Jin Guangyao shakes his head mirthfully. "You really don't plan much further after the murder. Do you really think no one will investigate if all three sect leaders die in the exact same manner? Besides, the incense can only work on Nie Mingjue because of the Nie Sect's unique cultivation method. If the righteous Sect Leader Lan dies from a qi deviation as well, there will be no shortage of people suspecting foul play."
Xue Yang hums under his breath.
"Interesting. So what you are saying is that you want something that will let you control Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji without killing them, huh?" Xue Yang interprets with a devilish grin as he pulls a dark mass out from his sleeve.
Jin Guangyao's smile widens.
"Why, thankfully we have a guinea pig right here," Xue Yang continues in a singsong tone as he bends forward and drags the tip of his tongue slowly across his bottom lip. Then next, Xue Yang drops the covered object lightly atop the gash at the centre of Song Hengyi’s chest.
Within the blink of an eye, the black energy enveloping the object furls backwards, revealing the sleek appearance of the Stygian Tiger Seal. Dense jet-black tendrils hover in mid-air for a split second before suddenly rearing forward at an immense speed and plunge straight into the open wound on Song Hengyi's chest without restraint.
Pain erupts through Song Hengyi’s meridians like a series of firecrackers, with each frigid throb becoming much more intense than the previous. Jiang Xichen shies away at once, gritting his teeth because he is instantly reminded of his personal experience at the Burial Mounds—with the sole difference being that the pain Song Hengyi is going through now is many times worse than what his had been.
Back then, Jiang Xichen no longer had a functioning golden core, hence he never had to experience the crippling pain brought about by the two counteracting qi fighting for dominance in his body. Each clash feels as if his meridians are set aflame, like his nerve endings are all being gnawed on by fire ants at the same time.
Song Hengyi is incapable of forming any intelligible words at the moment and all the jumbled sounds emerging from his mouth can only coalesce into one long piercing scream that echoes relentlessly around the chamber—akin to sweet honeyed music to his captors' ears.
Hate. Kill. Revenge.
Those three words from the resentment energy resound endlessly around in Song Hengyi's mind and before long, the latter's thoughts start chanting along to them as well.
The negative emotions surge forward with each repetition, growing thicker and heavier than anything Jiang Xichen had ever experienced prior. Not even the hatred of the trapped spirits atop the Burial Mounds could be a good comparison to the sheer intensity that hits him head-on at this moment.
Even through Empathy—or perhaps, precisely because it is through Empathy, a technique which traps only his consciousness, that Jiang Xichen can clearly feel the dark energy swarming him.
It first materialises in the form of groaning hoarse voices which come from every direction, then follow up with arms emerging from underneath in the next moment, mercilessly latching onto every inch of Jiang Xichen’s limbs.
Hate. Kill. Revenge. Hate. Kill. Revenge. Hate. Kill. Revenge.
Song Hengyi must have closed his eyes at some point, because the space Jiang Xichen is currently in is enveloped in pitch darkness. There is no way to tell which side is up, yet the only thing he can do is struggle futilely while the darkness presses down on him from all sides.
Wake up, Jiang Xichen thinks to himself. He needs to find a way to break out from the Empathy before Song Hengyi’s emotions swallow him whole!
He kicks his legs out in the next moment, trying to maneuver himself through the metaphorical sludge impeding his movement, but the moment he attempts that, everything around him falls away at once. Jiang Xichen falls into the void alongside it, and comes to with a stinging pain spreading across his knees and snow piling on his shoulders.
"It has been two full days. Shouldn't you have given up by now? Besides, even if you continue kneeling there for another three days, my answer will still remain as a no."
Song Hengyi raises his gaze to meet his shifu's—an austere old man with a hunched back and stern expression. Gingerly, Song Hengyi kowtows, lowering his forehead to the snow-covered cobblestones. "Please take back your words, Shifu. You know Shixiong better than anyone else. It has always been his dream to help the poor and save the weak. Him stepping out of Baixue Temple is merely a means to realise that dream, and definitely not an act of betrayal."
The old man narrows his eyes, brows pinching together into a deep grimace. "How dare you speak up again for that ingrate! I asked you to go find and persuade him to return, but to think that even you would turn around and take his side as well!"
“That is not my intention, Shifu. This disciple merely wishes to—"
"I thought Zichen was adamant on leaving because he has never seen the outside world and does not know any better. But to think that you would bear the same sentiments as him! Have you lived in comfort here for so long that you forgot what it is like to be out there?!"
Song Hengyi digs his fingers into the powdery snow, leaving ten fresh tracks in their wake. His adoption is not a secret, however it is a topic everyone just naturally steers clear of because they know just the mere memories of those tough days are enough to make the orphan disheartened.
"This Hengyi has not once forgotten what it is like to go hungry. But I just want to let Shifu know that not everyone out there is as terrible as Shifu thinks. There were people who beat me up for no reason, but there were also numerous others who would spare me food and medical ca—"
“Enough!" The old man strikes the end of his wooden staff against the stone ground, the silent meaning behind his action clear as day: their conversation is over. "Since you love the outside world so much, then leave as you please! Go wherever with your shixiong and never set foot back here again!"
Jiang Xichen blinks several times in succession.
Is this the real reason behind why Song Hengyi made his way to Yiling? It was not because of the reasons Song Lan had suspected, but because he was sent away by his shifu?
Still, Jiang Xichen cannot comprehend exactly why Song Hengyi is showing him these. Are any of these lingering memories important enough for Song Hengyi to rip his soul apart to record?
As if answering Jiang Xichen’s unspoken questions, the scene changes abruptly once again. This time, neither the old teacher or Song Lan are present, leaving Song Hengyi and Xiao Xingchen sitting by each other before a crackling fire, with only the soothing susurration of a creek nearby breaking the silence.
"My teacher, Baoshan Sanren, once told me that life in the outside world is very different from that in the mountains. No matter how hard I try, I will never be able to please everyone. There will always be individuals who will dislike and malign me even though I have nothing but goodwill for them."
Song Hengyi glances up at Xiao Xingchen's words, meeting the older man's bright and gentle dark eyes head-on. "Is there a reason why you are telling me these right now?"
"Would you believe me if I said there isn't any?"
"No, not when you specially got Shixiong to leave for this."
Xiao Xingchen's posture stiffens momentarily, before his clouded expression clears into a sheepish smile. "Your perceptiveness always astounds me, Hengyi." Xiao Xingchen lets out a deep exhale. "I won't beat around the bush anymore since you discovered my intentions. I would like to know the reason why you and your Shifu are so against Zichen exploring the world outside of Baixue Temple.”
Song Hengyi inclines his head. “What about Xingchen-ge then? Your teacher was known for not wanting to mingle with the mortals, and any disciple who chooses to leave the mountain is forbidden from returning ever again. Why did Baoshan Sanren feel that way?”
“Because she couldn’t understand the world outside. Even after my teacher reached enlightenment, she failed to comprehend the human heart, so she chose to hole herself up on the mountain, because she believed that the human heart is inherently dark, and there is only dispute and deceit out here."
"There is indeed only dispute and deceit in human society. There are many individuals who would kill just for monetary gains and hurt others for pleasure."
"Many, but not all," Xiao Xingchen insists. "I want to remain as someone who believes in mankind's goodwill. Even if you think what I am saying right now is a mere platitude, I will still stand by my words: I want to protect each individual person, so their kindness will never be corrupted by evil."
"Perhaps if I had met someone like you, my opinions would have been shaped differently." Song Hengyi slips his eyes shut with a soft sigh. "Xingchen-ge, have you heard of Huatan Town?1
Jiang Xichen narrows his eyes. A fishing village with wisteria trees? Why does that sound familiar?
Meanwhile, Xiao Xingchen shakes his head in reply. "I have travelled north but I never came across such a place."
"That's right. You wouldn't possibly have come across it because it had been destroyed by bandits. They came down from the mountains one day, slaughtered all the men, then sold the women to brothels, and auctioned the children off as slaves."
"Why would they...?"
"Simple. Because there was a war at that time, resulting in a demand for soldiers, and what better option is there other than a bunch of dispensable children who are easy to intimidate and motivate. At the very least, they can also create an opening by making the enemy hesitate and question their morals on the battlefield."
"The Qishan Wen Sect?"
Song Hengyi does not answer.
Xiao Xingchen lowers his gaze to the ground dejectedly. "Perhaps to you and your shifu, I really am naïve and idealistic. However, despite everything, I would still like to believe in the innate kindness of people. I would like to think that no matter how much wrong someone commits, there will always be a second chance available for them."
"You really are naïve and idealistic. But perhaps someone like you is exactly what Shixiong needs," Song Hengyi says after a slight pause. "I trust that you have already understood this, but although Shixiong's words may be a little too harsh at times, he is a good person at heart and the very first one outside of my family to show me any kindness."
Xiao Xingchen's gaze mellows out. "Hengyi, you really do care for Zichen, don't you?"
Song Hengyi returns the gesture with a small upward tilt of his lips. "Yes. When I ran away from the frontlines and was on the verge of starvation, Shifu and Shixiong were the ones who took me in and hid me from the Wens. I have always worked towards repaying this debt of gratitude to them someday."
The corners of Xiao Xingchen's lips lift into a wistful smile. "I won't pretend like I understand how that is but I can tell that all three of you truly care for each other. Even if Zichen appears rather aloof about it on the surface, I can see that the fight with his Shifu has put him under tremendous stress and great unease."
"Because despite their sharp tongues, both Shifu and Shixiong are actually soft-hearted and care a lot about each other."
"And when worded incorrectly, that kindness would be misinterpreted," Xiao Xingchen finishes the sentence for Song Hengyi. "I will find a chance to persuade Zichen to head back to Baixue Temple to sort things out with his Shifu. But what about you? Will you continue travelling with us?"
"Me?" Song Hengyi blinks twice. He lowers his gaze a fraction, choosing not to reveal his current homeless plight. "Well, I have come to understand Shixiong and Xingchen-ge's resolve over the course of the past few night-hunts. This Hengyi will go back and persuade Shifu to allow Shixiong to leave and set up his own Sect. I will—"
The incomplete scene before Jiang Xichen’s eyes spazzes out prematurely, violently flickering between various others. Unlike Nie Mingjue’s Empathy, it quickly becomes apparent to Jiang Xichen that Song Hengyi’s disordered flashbacks follow no given pattern and have no rhyme or reason.
Everything is scattered, inconsistent, and incoherent—which in itself, is an accurate representation of Song Hengyi's deteriorated mental state at the hands of Xue Yang and Jin Guangyao.
Nie Mingjue had the luxury of time as the slow-acting incense poison gradually claimed his sanity. However, Song Hengyi is not that fortunate. The sudden inclusion of a great amount of resentment energy into his body only suffices to create a huge deal of suffering, one where Jiang Xichen hypotheses might in fact be far worse than what he himself experienced on the Burial Mounds.
And unfortunately, Jiang Xichen's conjecture is not wrong.
A guttural scream resounds around the room, tapering off from a loud bellow into a hoarse groan. It takes Jiang Xichen several seconds to recognise that the sound is from him—from Song Hengyi.
Jiang Xichen glances up and spots his reflection on the surface directly opposite, but the person he sees is no longer the handsome and reserved young man Jiang Xichen remembers Song Hengyi as.
Unkempt, shaggy blood-matted dark hair hangs down, covering half of Song Hengyi's bruised and horridly swollen face. His crazed amber eyes are blown wide open, pupils dilated, yet there is no longer any hint of sanity within.
Song Hengyi has been reduced to a mere pitiful shadow of his previous self. His appearance no longer resembles that of a functioning human, but a deranged monster.
Jiang Xichen swallows thickly at the sight, his heart aching.
How long has he been in captivity? What did they do to him?
"Aw~ Are you broken already?" Xue Yang taunts with a smirk. He drags the tip of his dagger across Song Hengyi’s mutilated chest, adding yet another wound to the multitude of scabs and scars on it. "Come on, you can do better than that! Surely you aren't this mentally weak, are you? What happened to all your previous feistiness?"
Song Hengyi makes varied groans and grunts in response while straining against the thick chains keeping him trapped in place, however none of them form coherent words.
Xue Yang scoffs. "You really are no fun. I expected better when you swore you'd make me pay, but I guess this is the extent of your resolve, huh? How boring. Guess it makes no difference to you anymore even if I tell you your beloved shixiong is actually already long since dead."
Song Hengyi's entire body twitches.
Jiang Xichen gulps, remembering Song Lan at Yi City.
As if sensing the shift in atmosphere, the smirking Xue Yang then takes several threatening steps closer.
"That's right, I killed him! But did you know? Your Shixiong didn't even mention a single word about you up until his dying breath. All he cared about was Xiao Xingchen. And yet here you are, clinging on to life just in hopes to find him again. How laughable!"
Song Hengyi roars, the sound almost inhuman as his vision turns unnaturally blurry. He lunges forward ferally in the very next moment, snapping his jaws ferociously at Xue Yang—only for the latter to seize him by the forehead and smash him unceremoniously into the wall he is chained to.
The back of Song Hengyi’s skull cracks. An ear-piercing ringing penetrates his consciousness, disorientating him, as a trickle of blood seeps from his nostrils. Song Hengyi stumbles forward immediately when Xue Yang releases him, but ends up falling over his feet and retching bile out onto the ground.
Tears pour down the bridge of his nose, but despite his pitiful state, Song Hengyi still frantically attempts to claw his way forward on all fours, towards Xue Yang. Unfortunately, Jin Guangyao manages to pull the overconfident Jin guest disciple out of reach before the rabid captive gets a swipe at him.
"That's quite enough for now, both of you. Xue Yang, don’t taunt the poor boy further."
The delinquent brushes Jin Guangyao’s hand on his shoulder off rudely. "Please. You were so afraid of a man that was all brawn and no brain, and now you are telling me you are scared of someone who has already lost all sense of reasoning?"
"You don’t understand. Men who are pushed to their limits are the scariest."
"Are you saying that from experience?"
Jin Guangyao offers Xue Yang his customary good-natured smile. However, the usual warmth in the depths of his eyes has frozen over completely, leaving behind only two menacing pools of frost in their place. “We still need this boy to be our guinea pig. Until you come up with the correct prescription for Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji, I am afraid I cannot allow him to die.”
Xue Yang breaks into peals of demented laughter. “You think that this mongrel’s life and death will hold sway over me?!”
“No, of course not,” Jin Guangyao’s smile widens when Xue Yang narrows his eyes in frustration, his honeyed voice dripping with an inexplicable sense of shrewd malice. “I just meant that he is still of use to us. You might not have noticed but Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji have been keeping a close eye on me ever since I became the sect leader."
"You don't need to worry your pretty little head about that. If either of them found any evidence, they would have confronted you at once. The fact that they haven’t done that simply means that they haven’t gotten anything concrete yet.”
"Yet, is the keyword here. We cannot be sure that they will not find anything in the future too."
Xue Yang rolls his eyes. "What could possibly go wrong? We have already moved the incense production out to the Guanyin Temple at Yunping and left such a long paper trail that they will never lead it back to you."
Jiang Xichen perks up at the mention of Yunping.
He had seen a land deed for a location there in Jin Guangyao's possessions earlier but did not put much importance to it. To think that it played such a crucial role in this ploy.
"There is still Chifeng-zun," Jin Guangyao points out coolly, gesturing to the corpse laid out on the iron table. "His resentment is far stronger than what I had initially expected. Even the seals we placed on him are weakening by the minute. If we keep him here, there is always the possibility that his dark energy might leak out someday. Then, anyone who barges in here will link his death to me immediately."
Jin Guangyao circles around the iron table, tracing a finger across the cold skin of Nie Mingjue’s corpse as he speaks. "So I came up with a plan which will not only suppress the resentment but also cement my reputation as the sect leader and chief cultivator, and for that, I require your help."
"Let me guess. You want me to put on a show of being ousted and killed, then make use of my anonymity to find a place to relocate Chifeng-zun's corpse and continue my research on the incense poison in secret after."
Jin Guangyao gives him a small round of applause. "Brilliant. However, you got a small detail wrong. It's not just one place."
"Dismemberment?" Even the rogue Xue Yang appears momentarily shell-shocked, before the bloodlust overtakes him and pulls his lips back into a feral grin. "How interesting. Count me in~"
Jiang Xichen narrows his eyes.
To think that Jin Guangyao had been plotting to harm the sect leaders and take over the cultivation world from this long ago, and everything from Xue Yang’s exoneration to his elimination was all false.
But then again, Jiang Xichen supposes he really shouldn't be so surprised by now—Jin Guangyao already has a track record for employing this same body-double strategy multiple times, first with Nie Mingjue’s death then with Song Hengyi’s capture.
“Show me,” Jiang Xichen says next, voice heavy as he readies himself to take in the following sequence of scenes Song Hengyi wants and needs to show him. “Show me the truth behind the massacre and your capture.”
Darkness drapes over Jiang Xichen’s consciousness like a heavy curtain upon the request. The next time the latter rouses, he is greeted by a kaleidoscope of colours dancing across his focusing vision.
Once his sight clears, Jiang Xichen immediately notices the state of Baixue Temple, which is startlingly similar to the destroyed Lotus Pier in his memory.
Dread fills his stomach.
The interior of the building is completely thrashed. Mangled rotting bodies twisted beyond recognition litter the site, piling one atop of another. Coagulated brownish-red splotches in different sizes and shades are splattered across white walls, crusting into robes and the densely packed mud underfoot.
Song Hengyi stands for an indeterminate amount of time outside Baixue Temple, simply staring, before taking a shaky step forward and into his home. It no longer has a form that he recognises and Jiang Xichen can easily tell that from the small cautious strides the man takes—because he had been the same once.
He too, had experienced something terribly similar, so he understands everything Song Hengyi is currently going through, from the all-encompassing fury down to the wretched disbelief and lingering guilt.
"This can't possibly be true," Song Hengyi says aloud to no one in particular, because there is no longer anyone alive to hear him. He takes a numbing step into the Temple, into the scene of carnage, and feels a wave of bile rise to the back of his throat immediately.
It is so, so many times worse than what he could have ever imagined, even after hearing a brief gossip of the atrocities at the next town. He had rushed home immediately, his shifu's orders to stay away be damned—but nothing could have prepared him for this ghastly sight.
Decaying innards are strewn across the ground, with bits of white curling maggots feasting on the flesh. Pink brain matter leaks out of smashed skulls, coagulating over the cobblestones. Evidence of brutal torture is in every single nook and cranny, with several of his fellow disciples' limbs amputated and left to bleed out while others are strung upside down and whipped to death.
No two deaths are exactly identical, so the most surprising and chilling fact becomes the lone similar trait between all the corpses—the presence of discoloured patches on their bodies which turn their vessels black and flesh gray.
Resentment energy!
Jiang Xichen recognises the tell-tale signs at once because he had spent the later part of his previous life desperately trying to hide similar marks on his body. However, Song Hengyi had never come across these before, and it shows with the way he does not latch on to the important clue at once.
Instead, he glances around desperately for his shifu, and finally locates the old man lying slumped against the stone steps with his bloodshot eyes wide open and staring numbly at the entryway where Song Hengyi is standing. The common discoloured patch is stretched out from under the old man's lapels and across the larger half of his face, almost disfiguring him beyond recognition.
Song Hengyi rushes over instantly, a burning question at the tip of his tongue, but it fades away when he notices the lethal stab wound through his shifu's chest. Everything from the angle, size and depth of the incision screams that it is from Fuxue, but the most telling evidence is the minute trace of Song Lan's spiritual energy lingering at the site.
"Why…?" Song Hengyi gasps, falling to his knees. "Why would Shixiong…"
Song Hengyi brashly scoops his shifu up in his arms, brushing a hand lightly over the man's eyes to close them, however the discoloured portion of the latter's face crumbles away instantly upon contact.
"Shifu!"
Jiang Xichen cringes reflexively, shying away in the face of Song Hengyi's broken helpless screams of the same word over and over again, each one cutting emotionally deeper than the previous.
It is the familiar taste of guilt and despair that makes Jiang Xichen want nothing more than to avert his gaze from the sight before his eyes, but is forced to continue watching as the broken weeping Song Hengyi spends the next three days desperately clawing through layers upon layers of knee-deep mud slick with drying blood to bury his hundred-odd fellow disciples.
A deluge of rain falls on the night of the third day, the downpour and howling winds destroying the last of the crumbled remains, and an exhausted Song Hengyi collapses at the very bottom of the pit he dug and curls up into a fetal position.
Nothing is left.
Nothing is left at all, other than thin wisps of jet black smoke coiling lightly around the despairing young man who is barely twenty. There are no longer any tears left in his system to release, and so, he lays there silently in his soaked robes for an indeterminate amount of time, simply listening to the screams echoing within the resentment energy until all other sounds of nature are blocked out.
It is not until the downpour slows and trickles into a small drizzle that Song Hengyi finally pulls himself together to crawl back out into the open. However, Jiang Xichen can distinctly see that he is no longer the same person as before.
Song Hengyi’s complexion has grown wan and sallow, with dark circles lining his undereye areas and making him appear worse for the wear. All of the man's previous seriousness and kindness in his expression has completely vanished, leaving behind only a dark and acrid bitterness.
Revenge, you must take revenge —this sole thought resounds in Song Hengyi's head, becoming the only source of fuel for the amber-eyed youth to put one foot before the other and stride out from Baixue Temple.
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
"I have a genuine question. No matter how hard I think about it, I am unable to understand how you would have suspected me. There was no evidence which would have suggested my participation."
Song Hengyi glares coldly down at Xue Yang who he cornered at a back alley in Kuizhou and is currently holding at sword point. "There is. The situation at Baixue Temple has an uncanny resemblance to that of the Chang clan's, and you were the prime suspect for that particular case."
"But Chang Ping has retracted his claims, hasn't he? There is nothing that links me to that case anymore," Xue Yang points out cheerily in a singsong tone. "Besides, aren't you a little too biased against me? Just because the two cases are similar doesn't mean I am certainly the one who did it. It could have been the work of a copycat."
"A copycat would hardly go to the trouble to target a secluded place such as the Baixue Temple, where their crime has the chance to go unnoticed."
"So you mean to say that the perpetrator had a motive for targeting that place specifically. Tell me, what's my motive then?"
Jiang Xichen can sense a bottomless sense of fury simmering inside Song Hengyi, a type of all-encompassing rage that builds like deep water currents threatening to overflow at any given moment, yet the man's flat tone does not give away any of his bitterness.
"You harboured a grudge against Song Zichen and Xiao Xingchen for bringing you in as a suspect, but you knew that you have no chance against either of them in a fair duel, so you resorted to massacring Baixue Temple as part of your revenge plan."
"Ridiculous!" Xue Yang scoffs flippantly, knowing very well that Song Hengyi's current composure is nothing but a fragile mask. "You are saying all of these based on your hunch. You have no concrete evidence to prove that I did it."
"I do."
Xue Yang's eyes widen a fraction, disbelief flitting across their depths before it is swiftly overtaken by a scornful glint. "Do you think I was born yesterday? I won't fall for these lowly tricks. The only evidence in Baixue Temple points to that Song bastard!"
"That is it," Song Hengyi points out coolly, inclining his head. "There is no way you could have known the evidence pointed specifically to him unless you were the one who planted it. First and foremost, there were no signs of anyone else chancing upon the crime scene. Secondly, although Fuxue does indeed leave behind a distinct gash, it is not so different from other swords that someone unfamiliar with the blade can identify it easily."
Xue Yang pauses at that, face morphing into one of neutrality as he seemingly contemplates the situation. His lips part, but just as Jiang Xichen thinks Xue Yang is going to pull a Jin Guangyao and attempt to weasel his way out of the situation with clever words, Xue Yang breaks out into a large smirk instead.
"Well well well, since you've caught me, I have nothing left to say in my defence then. Still, even if you know the truth, there is nothing you can do anyway. Without any evidence, who would believe your unfounded claims?"
"There is nothing as a perfect crime. As long as an investigation is carried out, someone is bound to find evidence of your wrongdoings."
"How naïve," Xue Yang jeers mockingly, his expression twisting into one of pity. "Let's say that you did manage to convict me of my crime. What good will that do? What will change? Will your shifu come back to life?"
Anger flares in Song Hengyi once again at the mention of his shifu, mixing together with the immense amount of lingering grief. The flat edge of Xianyue digs into the side of Xue Yang’s neck. With just the lightest of pressure, Song Hengyi can easily send Xue Yang’s head rolling but the delinquent does not even appear the least bit fazed.
"Now that you understand that, I'll provide you with a better option? If you let me off here, I will let you meet your shixiong."
Song Hengyi narrows his eyes. He knows that this is a trap, but both as a junior and as a brother, there is no way Song Hengyi can ignore this. The fact that Xue Yang was able to use Fuxue to fabricate evidence is sufficient to show that at the very least, Xue Yang knows Song Lan's whereabouts, although the possibility that his esteemed senior is at this despicable hooligan's mercy is an extremely repulsive thought.
"After I turn you in for your heinous crimes, I will find him."
"Aren't you underestimating me a little? There's no way I'll ever hide him in a place that someone like you would be able to locate!" Xue Yang bursts out laughing, his entire body shaking with chuckles. "But if you want to, you'd better hurry up then. If you take too long, maybe they would have eaten him down to his bones!"
Song Hengyi's eyes widen fractionally, his thoughts grinding to a complete halt as he is overtaken by rage. Almost maniacally, he instantly strikes with his right arm, smashing his ulna against Xue Yang’s throat. The resulting angle and impact lifts a choking Xue Yang into the air and slams him heavily against the wall behind them.
"What do you want from me, you bastard?!" Song Hengyi hisses.
Despite being at a disadvantage, Xue Yang's demeanour shifts at once upon knowing he has successfully gotten under Song Hengyi’s skin and clinched the upper hand in this negotiation. "Why, just something terribly small and simple. I want you to help me take down someone."
"Who?"
"The mastermind behind this operation: Jin Guangyao."
Song Hengyi frowns, inadvertently loosening his grip by a tad.
"He was inspired by the Yiling Patriarch's manipulation of demonic cultivation and ended up heading down the wayward path," Xue Yang adds. "Demonic cultivation is shown to be something that even those with a low cultivation level can control after all, so there is no doubt someone as power hungry as him would desire it."
"If you wish to lie, you should have chosen a better target," Song Hengyi grits out, unconvinced. "Lianfang-zun's prestige precedes him and he has already been granted a position of power within the Lanling Jin Sect. There is no reason for him to dabble in the dark arts at this point."
Xue Yang snickers, pushing Song Hengyi’s arm away. "Isn't that just what an outsider like you thinks? Unfortunately, no matter what position he rises to, there is something that will never change no matter what, and that is his birth."
That statement is as much of a slap to Jin Guangyao's face as it is to Song Hengyi's. Even Jiang Xichen started feeling offended on behalf of Wei Wuxian, who has become the sect leader of Yunmeng Jiang at this point.
"What does his birth have to do with anything?"
"A person's birth determines everything they can be and will become! Those of lowly birth like him can only seek greater power to overthrow those above them in order to rise up! For him, that is demonic cultivation! Both the Chang Sect and Baixue Temple are his testing grounds for his recreated Stygian Tiger Seal," Xue Yang leans in, whispering. "You have seen them too, right? The black patches on the bodies? Those are the evidence of resentment energy."
Unfaltering, Song Hengyi does not allow any ounce of his surprise to slip through his neutral façade. On the surface, he appears completely undaunted, if not for the slight tremor running through his dominant hand.
"And what do you stand to gain by revealing this to me?"
"The real question shouldn't be what I stand to gain but rather, what will I even risk losing? And the answer is nothing." Xue Yang circles around Song Hengyi, his steps lightly punctuating each word as he continues speaking.
"With you cornering me here, I will lose my life if I don't tell the truth. Even if I hide the truth and manage to escape, it wouldn't take long till you uncover everything. Afterwhich, you will definitely confront Jin Guangyao and force him to admit his wrongdoings. When it comes down to that, that manipulative prick will simply use me as his scapegoat. Practicing demonic cultivation is a crime punishable by death, and I don't want to die yet, so the best course of action here is..."
"To admit the truth in hopes that I will let you off," Song Hengyi finishes the sentence for the ruffian. "How do you plan on confronting Lianfang-zun?"
Jiang Xichen sucks in a sharp inhale.
He wants to yell at Song Hengyi to reconsider his options because even if he does indeed relent and let Xue Yang off, there is no guarantee that Xue Yang will do the same for him, and he has already seen the devastating outcome of that.
However, Jiang Xichen is not able to do anything other than immerse himself in Song Hengyi’s tumultuous emotions of doubt, despair, and self-hatred—all of which make him realise that the perceptive Song Hengyi is indeed aware of the numerous issues Jiang Xichen had identified.
It is not that Song Hengyi is entirely convinced by Xue Yang’s allegations but rather, because he has no other alternatives.
As long as there is a chance Song Lan is in Xue Yang’s hands, Song Hengyi has no choice but to go along with the rascal's whims. There is no way he will risk Song Lan's safety—Xue Yang understands this as well, and the convinning scoundrel is not against taking advantage of it.
"Well, the strategy for confronting him is pretty straightforward. There is no need to play nice with Jin Guangyao. Knowing that villain, if we are to find him for just a nice chat, he will just find a way to placate us. Instead, we need to drag everything out from under the rug on a day and setting that he can definitely not back down from."
Song Hengyi narrows his eyes. "The Discussion Conference coming up in a couple of weeks over at Lanling."
"Oh? You know of it~?" Xue Yang snickers, pleasantly surprised. "I thought Baixue Temple had a policy to not interfere with worldly affairs!"
Song Hengyi’s face darkens. "Choosing to interfere is a completely different thing from choosing to remain ignorant."
"If you say so," Xue Yang shrugs nonchalantly. "Since you know of the Discussion Conference, that makes things a lot easier. All the big sects will be there for the event, so that would definitely be our best time to strike."
"That would be impossible. Baixue Temple has never gotten an invitation or displayed any intention to join. There is no way we would be granted an entry."
"And that's where I come in. By claiming that I am a suspect for the Baixue Temple's case, there is no reason for the sect leaders present to not grant you a hearing. Then, all I have to do there is testify against Jin Guangyao."
Song Hengyi sheathes Xianyue, but he still remains on high alert. "According to your plan, you would be the crux of this entire operation. How do I know if I can take your word?"
Xue Yang raises a brow. "What are you saying? There is absolutely no reason for me to go against what I have spent so long planning, right?"
Song Hengyi does not back down. "How do I know if I can take your word?" he repeats, tone flat.
Xue Yang chuckles in response. "Well, because you have no other choice. You can kill me here and never find your shixiong again, or help me with this operation and reunite with him. The choice is yours to make."
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
"Hengyi, you are turning ten this year. As a birthday present, Shifu asked an old friend of mine to smith you this sword. I know that the jian brings up a lot of painful memories for you, so I specifically requested that he make you a dao instead."2
Song Hengyi gazes up at the weapon his shifu holds out to him and gingerly accepts the gift. Its weight is foreign in his hands and its appearance is even further removed from any other cultivators' sword he had ever laid his eyes on.
Unlike the usual gaudy and flashy scabbards most cultivators use, the exterior appearance of this sword is extremely plain and unassuming. There are no decorative carvings on it, with only a simple white pearl bordered by a strip of gold, embedded at the very end of the dark sandalwood hilt.
"Thank you for the present, Shifu. I will treasure it," Song Hengyi replies at once with a deep bow, barely able to keep the excitement out of his voice despite his polite tone.
It is not often that Song Hengyi displays this amount of emotion in his mannerisms and that much is obvious when the white-haired elder's gaze softens.
"Before you leave, draw your sword," the master instructs. "Look at the name I entrusted it with and tell me what you think it means."
Song Hengyi does as told, revealing the two characters etched onto the side of the pristine blade.
"Xianyue? Does it represent family and reunion?"
"Indeed. Shifu named the sword this because I wanted it to become something that will remind you of home. I wanted it to become a beacon that will lead you home. No matter where you are, no matter where you will be, I wanted you to know that just like how the crescent is an indispensable part of the full moon, you are and will always be an integral part of our family—regardless of your birth, experiences and choices."
Song Hengyi tightens his grip on Xianyue's hilt. However, the hand on it no longer belongs to that of a youthful ten year old, but instead, to an emaciated man of twenty-three summers.
There are no arrays whatsoever drawn anywhere in the secret room but Jiang Xichen has an inkling of what exactly is about to happen. Jin Guangyao had already given him the answer earlier after all: the owner suffered tremendous mental and physical torture and with the last of his sanity, decided to seal one of his souls into his blade.
Such a taboo method is not completely unheard of, yet very rarely practiced—not simply because the process is clad with an insurmountable amount of suffering, but also largely due to the deeply ingrained concept of being 'whole'.
A human body is a temple for their three hun and seven po,3 each with a specific role in guiding the human through life and the cycle of rebirth. By ripping one of their souls out and entrapping it within a physical sword would mean that they cease being complete from that very moment onward, and even if the person manages to survive the procedure, may never be considered 'human' again.
Song Hengyi had willingly given up his humanity not once, but twice.
"You would do all this just for revenge?" Jiang Xichen asks with a trembling voice as a bout of searing pain lances down from the crown of Song Hengyi's head to his chest. Each wave that follows after ramps up exponentially in intensity, creating an excruciating sensation akin to his flesh being split and ribs being pried open one by one. However, the latter does not falter as he continues forcefully pushing his soul into the inanimate sword.
Perhaps it is because he had been exposed to too much anguish over the past few years, both from the physical torment and the mental distress of having Jin Guangyao turn the entire cultivation world against him, but Song Hengyi seems to have grown fully immune to the pain.
How much did he have to go through to get to this point?
Jiang Xichen doesn't want to know, because despite everything he had been through, he himself had still never gotten to the point of being this detached. Though, his saving grace might have been the fact that everything he went through was a conscious decision he made for himself, from choosing to use demonic cultivation right down to ending his own life.
On the other hand, everything Song Hengyi has been through thus far was forced upon him, and understanding that now simply makes Jiang Xichen feel unbearably ashamed of himself.
To think that he had once brushed Song Hengyi’s last wish aside, thinking that he should just let himself wither away without even trying to find out the man's reasons behind his desire for revenge.
To think that he once believed in the falsely spread rumours that Song Hengyi murdered his whole family.
He should have known better than to take them at face value.
He, of all people, should have known that such rumours are untrustworthy and can easily be wielded as a weapon to destroy another person's entire life.
"Shifu, Shixiong… Hengyi has let both of you down… Reduced to my current state, I can't even…"
Song Hengyi falls onto his knees before Xianyue and lowers his forehead to the ground, kowtowing thrice to pay respects using the very last thing he had in connection with his found family—the symbol of his home.
He knows exactly how bleak and hopeless his situation is, even with just those measly few minutes of clear-headedness he regains after long periods of insanity spent scratching futilely at the walls. Nevertheless, he does not want to stop fighting just yet, but has also contradictorily given up all shreds of hope of escaping and exacting revenge.
Without the incantations, Song Hengyi will not be able to open the portal on his own, but there is also no conceivable way for him to be able to win Jin Guangyao in a brawl with his current weakened state.
Attempt the impossible: perhaps it is really an ironic twist of fate that Jiang Xichen is summoned back by such a person, by someone who was equally shunned, misunderstood and mistreated by society too.
"You will definitely be able to escape someday. Trust me, me being here is the proof of that," Jiang Xichen whispers, wanting nothing more than to pull the frazzled and fractured young man into his arms. A bell chimes lightly in the distance, each toll growing louder as it slowly aligns itself with Jiang Xichen’s breathing. "I just wish that… that there would be a happier end to your tale, that you didn't have to choose the same ending that I did back then."
Song Hengyi does not hear him. He can't hear him, yet he seemingly sheathes Xianyue with a newfound resolve and determination, severing the link between the soul sealed in Xianyue from his mortal body.
The persistent chiming of a bell in the distance seemingly picks up the very moment Xianyue's handguard meets its scabbard, and despite Jiang Xichen’s own wish to stay in Empathy, a huge gust of wind forms around him, its currents winding itself tightly around the man's limbs and forcibly wrenching him out.
The sensation that follows is akin to falling through space, and Jiang Xichen grits his teeth, bracing himself for the resulting impact—only to snap his eyes open to see a very familiar face.
"Yo," the man before him smirks, his eyes the shade of bright glittering opal. "You are finally awake."
Notes:
1. 花潭 huā tán: literally meaning flower pond. Back
2. Dāo (刀): single-edged, although it can either be straight (in this fic) or curved (usually from the Song dynasty onwards). A dao is also commonly known as a sabre or knife. Jiàn (剑) on the other hand is a double-edged straight sword which is what most of the cultivators in mdzs use. Back
3. In Taoism, it is said that a person has three hún and seven pò (三魂七魄) and one of these was willingly sealed into the sword. Back***
Sorry for the wait. I took a lot more time than usual planning the intricacies of this chapter before starting to write it. I wanted the scenes of Empathy to be all jumbled up and follow little chronological order so as to reflect Song Hengyi's emotional turmoil back then, although I'm not sure if this is the best approach for it ^^; Do let me know if it turned out to be too confusing >_<
Xue Yang also blatantly lied a lot in here (for instance, about how he has already killed Song Lan, which we know isn't true because all he did was blind him when they faced off at Baixue Temple). I didn't want to clear up the (potential) misunderstandings in the chapter because I wanted to keep it more or less in Song Hengyi's POV, but if anyone has queries, feel free to ask them in the comments :)
Unfortunately, I might take a while to finish the next chapter too as I am currently working on a requested spin-off for this series focusing on the Lan brothers. Thank you for your patience!
***
"Sect Leader Nie, everything went according to your plan. Our brothers have successfully guided Song Hengyi out of Koi Tower. Lianfang-zun has not caught wind of anything yet."
Nie Huaisang rises to his feet before his right-hand man, the only person in the entire Qinghe Nie Sect who knows of his ploy to take revenge on Jin Guangyao for his brother.
"Great. Then our next step will be to raze Baixue Temple to the ground."
The Nie cultivator raises his head. "Raze? But why? Didn't you say that him confronting Lianfang-zun at the Discussion Conference was the reason why you started suspecting there was something more to the qi deviation?"
"Indeed," Nie Huaisang acknowledges with a sharp flick of his wrist. The paper fan in his hand snaps open before his face. "He was my benefactor, so in exchange, I helped him escape from that living hell. However, from the moment he stepped out of Koi Tower, my debt to him has been paid off. So now, he is simply another pawn for my revenge plan."
Chapter 26: Reunion
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
<PRESENT>
"Now that the condition of our dear friend here is finally stabilised, Cheng-di, don't you think it is the time for you to come clean about his identity too?"
Lan Wanyin inhales sharply, his pulse rapidly quickening under Wei Wuxian's searching gaze. The sect leader's iridescent silver orbs seemingly pierce into his very being, seeing right through every woven half-truths he had in his arsenal, and the younger cultivator takes an unobtrusive step backward, unnerved.
In all honesty, he should have anticipated this turn of events from the very moment he stepped through the Lotus Pier’s gates with the injured Jiang Xichen in his arms. Even if the disciples had originally willingly allowed them entry because they recognised Lan Wanyin, there was still no way Wei Wuxian would have permitted two fugitives to stay, let alone personally tending to Jiang Xichen's wounds.
The only plausible reason for that would be that Wei Wuxian had already discovered Jiang Xichen's identity.
But how?
Did Xiongzhang tell Wei-ge?
"Lan Zhan did not tell me anything, if that is what you are wondering. You know him best. You should know that your brother would never do something like that," Wei Wuxian says as he lifts his fingers off of Jiang Xichen’s pulse point and slides the latter’s hand back under the covers. “It was obvious from the way both of you looked at each other. In fact, any observant person would likely have been able to tell.”
Jin Guangyao would have been able to tell—Wei Wuxian’s unspoken words ring loud and clear in the tense silence that follows his sentence.
Lan Wanyin clenches his hands reflexively, only to feel the crackling of Jiang Xichen’s caked blood smeared between his digits. “I… We have to leave then. I am sure he would not wish to implicate you, Wei-ge.”
“Implicate? Why? Because Lianfang-zun knows that you two are here?”
Lan Wanyin lowers his gaze to the ground.
Wei Wuxian promptly bursts into loud peals of laughter. "Cheng-di, ah, Cheng-di, you are really…! Sometimes you see the big picture so well that you miss out the most obvious clues! Let me ask you: we have come to the conclusion that Sect Leader Jin knows that the two of you would likely seek shelter here, yet not only did he not immediately charge in to capture you both, but also did not attempt to stall me from returning to Lotus Pier after the Conference was called off. Why do you think that is?"
"He… Lianfang-zun can't. He needs to have a very good reason to trespass and search another Great Four Sect's territory, but there is absolutely no connection between Song Hengyi and the Yunmeng Jiang Sect."
"Indeed." Wei Wuxian nods proudly. "There is a very visible connection between Jiang Xichen and this Sect, but it certainly wouldn't do for the esteemed Sect Leader Jin to take his words back and suddenly call the criminal that escaped twice, the Yiling Patriarch, right?"
Twice.
Although no one publicly denounced Jin Guangyao when Song Hengyi’s identity was uncovered in Lanling, it does not change the fact that the latter was someone who was supposed to have been executed by the Lanling Jin Sect. Having such a person end up being alive and well, is already a blow to the Jin Sect's reputation, much less revealing his identity as the Yiling Patriarch.
Such a move would likely not help Jin Guangyao garner support from the empathetic masses, but only serve to make them assume that he is in cahoots with the wretched instead.
"Lianfang-zun cornered himself by revealing Song-gongzi's identity to everyone," Lan Wanyin concludes mellowly, before discovering that something is not quite right with his assumption.
Jin Guangyao, as far as Lan Wanyin can discern from Jiang Xichen's quick summary of his paperman adventure, is a highly cunning and unscrupulous individual born with the gift of glib. Would such a man really mindlessly talk himself into a pitfall like this?
Even if it were the case, it would simply mean that there had to be someone more formidable, someone who had been flawlessly meandering the flow behind the scenes, forcing Jin Guangyao into his current predicament.
Who could that be?
Lan Wanyin narrows his eyes, casually stroking the purple ring on his left forefinger with his right hand.
Someone who has a motive for destroying Lianfang-zun, yet decidedly remains close enough with him to discover the Chief Cultivator's dark secrets, and is also capable of planting Chifeng-zun’s legs in the Nie Sabre Hall without rousing any suspicion—there is only one such person Lan Wanyin knows who could potentially fit the bill.
But how could it possibly be him?
"Or perhaps someone cornered Sect Leader Jin and indirectly forced him to," Wei Wuxian says with a knowing smile, clearly seeing through Lan Wanyin's inner dilemma. "But unfortunately, our dear mastermind’s game of cat and mouse is not set to end just yet. My guess is that if there is indeed a third party after Sect Leader Jin, they will definitely try to sway us over to their side."
"By coming up with a plan which endangers Xichen’s life?"
Lan Wanyin sets his jaw, his steely gaze flickering to Jiang Xichen's deathly pale face.
An unreadable expression flits across Wei Wuxian's features, and he is just about to open his mouth to speak when three sharp raps on the door abruptly interrupts him.
"Sect Leader, two maidens are at the front gates, requesting an audience with you. Their names are Sisi and Bicao."
Wei Wuxian and Lan Wanyin share a look.
"Which sect do they cultivate at?"
"None. Neither of the women are cultivators. They brought along with them a chest of expensive medicinal herbs and said that Sect Leader would definitely know who sent them."
"What are the herbs for?"
"Mostly to stop blood and improve qi circulation. A handful are even good for stabilising one's internal energy and improving cultivation. We have moved the herbs to the Medicinal Hall and examined all of them. There are no abnormal spells or curses."
Other than being outrageously luxurious, none of the gifts are really too out of the ordinary. In fact, most sects usually have their own stash of similar, albeit much cheaper, herbs for their inner disciples. However, the combination is what sets the alarm bells ringing in Lan Wanyin's head.
With just this chest alone, the mastermind has clearly stated that they know an injured Jiang Xichen is at Lotus Pier, as well as the debilitating condition of his core.
The air in the room grows suffocatingly heavy.
Wei Wuxian folds his arms across his chest. "Show the guests to the Sword Hall. I will listen to what they have to say."
The disciple scampers off at once, eager to carry out the sect leader’s instructions. Meanwhile, Lan Wanyin waits until the man’s shadow on the closed door has fully retreated before speaking.
“I will wait here. After the recent incident at Lanling, I presume it will not be convenient for outsiders to know of my presence in Lotus Pier."
Wei Wuxian parts his lips as if intending to voice a retort, but Lan Wanyin has already settled down into the empty chair by Jiang Xichen's bed. A thick sense of tiredness overcomes him at once, but Lan Wanyin stubbornly wills it away with a harsh bite to his inner cheek.
The sect leader gives an exaggerated sigh when he sees the determined set to Lan Wanyin's jaw. “Cheng-di, I know you are worried but Ge's life is no longer in danger. You have been up and about for the past few nights. If you aren't joining me at the Sword Hall, you should at least use the opportunity to rest up."
Lan Wanyin does not respond immediately.
Instead, he peers down solemnly at the unconscious cultivator's pale complexion, noting how the man's brows are tightly knitted and the persistent fever which has been plaguing him for several days on end now still shows no sign of letting up.
"Wei-ge, I have a small favour to ask. Could you arrange to have the chest of herbs sent here? I want to try finding something suitable for Xichen’s current condition."
Wei Wuxian places his hands on his hips and presses his lips into a thin line. However, when Lan Wanyin shows no signs of budging on his stance, the older man regretfully sighs again in defeat, turning to leave.
"Fine, you win, you win. I've never met anyone as stubborn as you, Cheng-di. I'll arrange for someone to bring you a list of the new herbs once it is ready."
A hint of relief clears Lan Wanyin's clouded expression. "Thank you."
Once alone, Lan Wanyin reaches out gingerly with shaking fingers to brush the loose hair strands away from Jiang Xichen's sweat-matted forehead and gently tucks them behind his ear.
He had done the same once previously, in the exact same room and seat, back in the aftermath of their fight against the Xuanwu slightly over two decades ago.
Lan Wanyin remembers how he had impatiently rushed to Jiang Xichen's side instantly upon regaining consciousness then, only to be astounded by the unexpected sight of the injured boy delirious from a bout of fever-induced nightmares.
The younger Jiang Xichen had appeared so fragile at that moment, his complexion so wan and sallow as he let out a series of pained grunts under his breath—and the mere imagery had helped Lan Wanyin come to a stark realisation.
Prior to the Xuanwu fight, he had always seen Jiang Xichen as a person to be admired and a target to catch up to. He had always presumed he needed to become stronger to match up to Jiang Xichen, before he could even attempt to approach him.
Yet the boy's vulnerability at this very moment made the sixteen year old Lan Wanyin realise that he had been wrong all this while.
There was never any need for him to blindly pursue a vague goal of being 'good enough', because what he yearned for is not something as superficial as simply becoming worthy of the number one Young Master in the cultivation world, but to be by him, to grow with him.
And seeing Jiang Xichen in a similar situation once again, reminds him of that.
"My feelings have not changed all these years," Lan Wanyin says next, his voice resounding melancholically around the empty room. He cups a side of Jiang Xichen's pale face with his right palm, gently running the pad of his thumb across the latter's cheekbone before pausing. "But neither has my distance with you."
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
Jiang Xichen snaps his eyes open at once to the telltale tinkle of the Yunmeng Jiang bell. It is a sound he has not heard in a long time, and that, when combined with the familiar level of sweltering heat bearing down against his exposed skin and the coolness of the lakewater against his bare ankles, is enough to jerk Jiang Xichen to full attention.
Lotus Pier.
There are no longer any lotuses left intact at the lake but Jiang Xichen does not need to smell their floral fragrance to know that this is Lotus Pier, to know that this is the home he'd never thought he would ever be able to return to ever again.
"Yo, you're finally awake."
Jiang Xichen excitedly turns to the person by his side with the beginnings of a smile, but instead of the comforting silhouette of a white-robed Lan Wanyin, he finds a youthful Wei Wuxian dressed in his usual red-black garb instead.
The youth standing near the edge of the wooden boat swings the oar in his hand down, the flat end cutting expertly through the still lakewater. The smirk on the boy's face gives way to a full-blown chortle.
"Gosh, what's with your expression, Ge?"
The trace of the mature seriousness he had seen in Sect Leader Wei Wuxian's demeanour earlier at Lanling is nowhere to be found on this obnoxiously chuckling youth's features, and Jiang Xichen realises with a start that this is probably just another memory.
But how? Why?
Jiang Xichen has absolutely no recollection of this, and there is close to zero possibility that this is part of Song Hengyi's Empathy—the child was likely barely past ten then—and even if it were, this would be in Song Hengyi's perspective instead, not his.
The light chime of the Yunmeng Jiang bell sounds again, clearly coming from his lap this time round. Jiang Xichen lowers his gaze to see the Clarity Bell in his hand, the familiar silver bell complete with the engraving of a nin-petaled lotus and a purple tassel attached to its end.
"How long do you plan on staring at that, Ge? Shijie didn't spend a week carving that for you to potentially lose it again. Tie it to your sash already!"
"Don't tease A-Huan so much, A-Xian. Didn't you say that he worked the hardest to reclaim Lotus Pier?"
Jiang Xichen promptly chokes on an intake of breath upon hearing that voice. The sweet nostalgia of his sister's feather-light tone makes his shoulders quake. He swallows thickly, but that alone is insufficient to will away the burning at the back of his eyes and the steady tightening of his throat.
He had never once imagined that there would be a day he could hear her like this again, without her voice being twisted by anguish or the gurgling of blood.
"Here, A-Huan, A-Xian. You two must be hungry. Have a scallion pancake each."
Wei Wuxian tosses his oar down and scrambles over without missing a beat. "Aw, but what about your lotus root and pork rib soup, Shijie? I was looking forward to it all these months when I was at the frontlines!"
"Don't be willful, A-Xian. You know it will take a while before the lotuses destroyed by the war grow back, so until then we would not have the ingredients on hand."
"But you made it for the peacock!"
"I… That was…" Jiang Yanli trails off abashedly, her voice cracking at the end. A short momentary silence follows, before Jiang Xichen feels her worried gaze boring into his back.
"A-Huan, is something the matter?"
Jiang Xichen tightens his grip around the round bell on his palm, clutching fervently to it as though it is his last anchor to sanity. He tries to take a long, slow, and deep inhale but his breaths come quicker with each passing second.
His feet begin tingling, and the sides of his vision blurring with a veil of tears.
He wants nothing more than to whip his head around and engrave the sight of his sister into his memory, but he is scared—afraid that if he were to turn now, every part of this blissful dream will start crumbling away like a horrifying nightmare.
Just a while more. Just a little while more.
Just let him indulge a little while more.
"A-Huan?"
A gentle touch to his shoulder makes Jiang Xichen snap his gaze up unwittingly. He meets Jiang Yanli's concerned honey brown eyes for the length of a stuttered heartbeat, and just as Jiang Xichen had earlier suspected, the magic of the moment vanishes.
Jiang Yanli’s outline begins melting away, her features merging like ink meeting a splotch of water on paper. Jiang Xichen instinctively reaches out trying to grab ahold of his sister, but his fingers go right through her body and it shatters like cracked glass, the fragments crumbling down to intangible pieces which slip through between his fingers like fine sand.
Why?
Why show him a glimpse of happiness just to take it all away in the next moment?
What did he do to deserve going through the pain of being utterly helpless as he loses his sister right before his eyes a second time?
Jiang Xichen’s bottom lip quivers, a heart-wrenching onslaught of tears finally slipping from the corners of his eyes as he falls forward onto his forearms.
The wood forming the hull of the boat splinters, snapping into two halves underneath him. He falls right through, into the lake beneath. A faceful of unexpectedly frigid lakewater slams into the length of his body, ripping the breath out of his lungs and replacing it with a fiery gulp of water.
Pain erupts through every inch of Jiang Xichen’s conscious mind, condensing into an acute pain throbbing incessantly at his abdominal area and the man jerks upright, flinging his arms out with a silent scream.
The subconscious movement tips Xianyue off the edge of the bed and it sends it clattering noisily to the ground, its jet-black scabbard stark against the wooden flooring.
Jiang Xichen instantly connects the dots.
The reason he did not remember the scene earlier is because Song Hengyi had sealed a portion of his soul into his sword before performing the Sacrificial Ritual at Baixue Temple. This meant that the soul presented in the Ritual is no longer whole.
An equivalent exchange with Song Hengyi's imperfect soul would naturally mean that something has to be lacking in Jiang Xichen too, and that might very well be a portion of his memories.
"Oh? You are reaching for your sword the very moment you wake up? What a respectable cultivator."
Jiang Xichen squints at the contrast in light, blinking until the tall silhouette standing near the bed mellows out into recognisable features: a broad shouldered man in his late twenties, dressed in the trademark Yunmeng Jiang shade of rich purple. Long ebony strands splay loosely over his broad shoulders, with the sides behind his ear softly twisted and tied back in a braided half up-do with a familiar crimson ribbon.
The man's eyes are no longer twinkling with mischief like back in their teenage times, yet even after seven long years, Jiang Xichen still manages to recognise his younger brother all the same.
"Wei Wuxian."
Jiang Xichen attempts to push himself up onto his elbows, but a sharp pain lancing through his abdominal area knocks the breath straight out of his lungs, eliciting a low gasp from the latter. Wei Wuxian immediately presses a palm firmly against Jiang Xichen’s chest, gently pushing the injured cultivator back down flat onto the bed.
"It's 'Sect Leader Wei' to you, Lan Huan-gongzi,” Wei Wuxian replies sternly with a dark glower.
Jiang Xichen blinks twice in complete confusion, before the events of the Lanling Discussion Conference finally catches up with him, along with the pseudonym he used.
Wei Wuxian breaks out into an exaggerated series of chuckles, slapping his thigh in between peals of laughter as he points at Jiang Xichen's face. “W-What on earth is… is that, pfft, expression? If you– If you really wanted to fake your identity, Ge, at least make sure that you do it properly until the end!"
"When did you–"
"When did I find out? Well, it was so obvious! Who else could possibly make Lan Zhan behave this antagonistically?"
Jiang Xichen's facial expression twists into a frown, a flood of unhappy memories welling up in his mind upon the mention of Lan Wangji. The wound at his abdomen begins aching as well, making small twinges along with his every shallow draw of breath. "If you realised it when you met me at the Discussion Conference, then you should have–"
"Sat back and enjoy the show, right? That's exactly what I did!"
Jiang Xichen grimaces.
"Well, you can't blame me. You were trying so hard to make your disguise work. I would feel bad if I exposed it. Besides, seeing you and Cheng-di awkwardly pretending to keep your distance while making eyes at each other every other minute was the icing on top of the cake!"
"My relationship with Wanyin is not as you think."
"Oh? Then it's probably much more intimate than what I presumed. After all, it's not everyday that I see Cheng-di worried enough about someone to spend three consecutive days by their bedside without a single wink of sleep."
Jiang Xichen feels a pang in his chest at his brother's words.
Wei Wuxian had probably only meant it as a simple part of their usual callous banter, however, an odd sense of heaviness has settled in the deepest recesses of Jiang Xichen’s heart, weighing it down.
In retrospect, all he'd really succeeded in doing ever since he came back was causing Wanyin to worry.
"Oh? Could it be that a particular someone is feeling a tad bit guilty now~?"
Jiang Xichen purses his lips, his tone growing exceedingly bitter. "It has been seven years and you really have not changed one bit."
"Well, it has been seven years and Ge has not changed a single bit either," Wei Wuxian retorts, leaning in with a smile that turns cold at the edges. The playful aura surrounding the man vaporises instantly. "You still keep everything strictly to yourself, such as the truth about your core."
Jiang Xichen’s blood runs cold.
Wei Wuxian pivots on his heel with a flourish, pacing around the room with uniform strides while he continues speaking. "The signs were always there from the start, but demonic cultivation was still something novel then and no one knew exactly what to look out for. It was way easier to simply pin every single one of your personality and physiological changes to demonic cultivation rather than find valid explanations for them."
"However, I soon realised that that is not the case. Shortly after your death, I started investigating the effects of demonic cultivation on a healthy cultivator's body, and to my surprise, the results I acquired were that I did not exhibit any of your conditions. In fact, my core was able to counteract most of the effects from the resentment energy."
"So then, it got me thinking—why would you, someone with a higher cultivational base than myself, exhibit any symptoms? And the more I pondered about it, the more I realised that the reason behind it is incredibly simple."
Wei Wuxian levels Jiang Xichen with a stare sharp enough to slice through rocks, but even that uncharacteristic look is insufficient to prepare the latter for the chilling words that follow.
"It was because you had no core."
Jiang Xichen clenches his hands, twisting his fingers almost desperately into the edge of the blanket. His composure wavers slightly, the corners of his mouth twitching.
"In fact, the moment I started considering the events that transpired with the prior assumption that you had lost your core, everything fell into place. Not only can it explain why you were not able to cleanse the resentment energy, but also why you could manipulate the dark energy as freely as you did in the Sunshot Campaign."
“This is merely your conjecture, Wei Wuxian."
“ Was my conjecture. I am sure of it after checking up on Song Hengyi's core and hearing Cheng-di's account of how differently you used demonic cultivation during your recent travels with him as opposed to when you were the Yiling Patriarch."
Wei Wuxian runs a hand through his hair. "Theoretically speaking, Ge, the contrasting yin and yang energies will try to dispel each other, resulting in the user becoming incapable of channeling their spiritual energy properly. So, that got me thinking, what if the user had less or no spiritual energy to begin with? And the conclusion I came to was that these individuals will be able to manipulate resentment energy even better."
"But I soon realised there was still another unanswered question, and that is the extent of damage the resentment energy did to you. The assumption everyone had was that you crafted a medium to store and control your demonic powers, but if you truly did so, the effect of the dark energy on you would only be a fraction of what you sustained. And it is not until today, after I witnessed the condition of Song Hengyi's body did I realise that the actual medium you used as the Yiling Patriarch was your very own body.”
Jiang Xichen swallows thickly.
He lowers his gaze to his shaking hands, focusing on nothing in particular. His vision is spinning, mind whirling, body curling in on itself. A buzzing noise starts in his ears. Thousands of words howl at the back of his mind, arranging themselves into hundreds of excuses he can use to deny Wei Wuxian’s hypothesis.
He should deny it, he has to deny it—because he cannot allow himself to burden anyone with his foolish past decisions—yet Jiang Xichen knows there is no plausible way he will ever be able to talk his way out of this.
Wei Wuxian always had a keen eye for anything regarding cultivation, and had obviously spent a great deal of time analysing the entirety of the matter.
"The fact that you wouldn't even look at me in the eye now, means I hit the nail on the head, right, Ge?"
Jiang Xichen swallows with great difficulty but still remains with his head bowed. “What is the point of asking me about all these now? Everything you mentioned has all happened a long long time ago, and nothing we say right here and now can change the outcomes."
“True, true, it is all in the past, but call it a researcher's curiosity or a brother's concern. All I want to know is if it was a decisive choice that you made for yourself, while knowing that all the side effects you suffered would be the result."
Wei Wuxian’s tone is seemingly light, and would not have given away his disapproving stance on the matter had Jiang Xichen not known the other man well enough.
“It is just a difference in morals, Wei Wuxian. For you, if the choices are between sacrificing yourself to save the world or to stand by and do nothing, you would definitely strive and succeed in creating a third option, one where you and everyone you love will survive and live on happily, because to you, there is nothing such as ‘impossible’.”
Because in his eyes, Wei Wuxian’s tenacity is the perfect embodiment of the Jiang Sect motto.
“But I am different. To me, there is absolutely no value in a world without the people I love and care for, so when presented with that ultimatum, I will not attempt to bet on the possibility of carving out a third path. I will definitely choose to sacrifice myself every single time.”
“Don’t give me such superficial excuses!" Wei Wuxian snaps, finally breaking out of his neutral façade. "We grew up together. Just like me, you understood the pains of losing people close to you. I know that you would never willingly give yourself up just like that, not unless you had no other choice!"
Jiang Xichen slips his eyes close with a lengthy exhale.
"You are right. I never actually had a choice. After Wen Zhuliu melted my core and Wen Chao threw me into the Burial Mounds, this was the only way I had left. I wanted revenge against the Wens so badly that it consumed me. It was everything I could think of at that moment, it was everything I wanted to do then, and the resentment energy responded to me. That's all."
Sometimes, it is better to not know the truth—this unspoken sentence hangs heavily in the tense air between them.
"Burial Mounds… So those three months were…?"
“It is all inconsequential past events now. There is nothing left to say about this. Even if you find out what really happened back then, A-Jie won't come back," Jiang Xichen comments next, half-expecting Wei Wuxian to revert to his usual self and jokingly laugh it off, but to his utmost surprise, Wei Wuxian closes the distance between them in several large strides, and yanks him by the lapels instead.
The force tugs Jiang Xichen’s upper body up from the bed.
"You think this is about Shijie?!"
Jiang Xichen stares straight into Wei Wuxian’s eyes, molten amber meeting iridescent silver. He has never seen his brother this furious before, especially when the anger is directed straight toward him.
He sighs. "Who else could make you this emotional?"
Wei Wuxian grits his teeth.
Jiang Xichen sighs again, overlaying his hands onto Wei Wuxian’s shaking ones. "I'm sorry. I am seven years late with this apology and it might not come across as much now, but I was equally affected by A-Jie's death. For a time, I even considered using the Sacrificial Ritual. I thought of modifying it so I could summon her soul back, but then I realised she probably would not want to be trapped in the body of her murderer."
Wei Wuxian's expression turns pained. "What happened to Shijie was merely an accident. It was not anyone's fault, and certainly not yours."
"It's not just her. There were so many other victims—Jin Zixuan, everyone at Lanling that day, and even the Wens on Burial Mounds. All of them are victims of my foolishness."
If only he'd perished on the Burial Mounds like he was supposed to.
Wei Wuxian tightens his grip on Jiang Xichen's lapels. "Is that why you don't think you deserve to live?"
"Yes."
There is no sliver of doubt or hesitation in Jiang Xichen’s voice. The single word resounds throughout the silent room, thick and heavy, and falls despondently between the two childhood friends.
At the same time, Wei Wuxian releases his hold on Jiang Xichen’s robes with a seemingly cold, hardened gaze, and the latter’s body tilts backwards, meeting the wooden bedframe with a loud thud and a suppressed groan.
"The core in your body is in a very precarious position, Ge. I thought that you might have just reverted to using demonic cultivation out of habit and did not know of its potential detrimental effects on your core's stability. But it seems like my worries were misplaced. Everything about this was your plan all along, wasn't it?"
Wei Wuxian takes an unobtrusive step backward. "You never had the intention to outlive Song Hengyi’s Sacrificial Ritual.”
Jiang Xichen averts his gaze at that, because although he has ceased considering giving his life up in this manner after finding out about Lan Wanyin's affections and Jin Guangyao's atrocities, he cannot deny that he had harboured such thoughts previously—and Wei Wuxian sees right through him.
“If you hadn’t met Cheng-di at Baixue Temple that day, then..."
Jiang Xichen slips his eyes close, brows drawing into a deep furrow. His heart is pounding erratically, his breath shuddering involuntarily as the memories of the despair he felt in his last moments resurface to the front of his consciousness.
Those unforgettable final few days were the darkest period of his life, where every waking moment haunted him with raw images of Jin Zixuan's lifeless corpse and his sister's pained smile as she bleeds out in Wei Wuxian's arms.
The mind-crushing guilt against the confines of his chest is black, ugly and unbearably cold.
“Then I would not be here right now.”
Jiang Xichen hears the incoming blow before he feels the stinging pain blooming across his left cheek. He recoils at once, eyes narrowing and arm rising in a futile attempt to shield his face as Wei Wuxian follows up by swinging a fist out at him.
Yet, the impact never connects.
“That slap was for Shijie."
Jiang Xichen parts his lips in confusion.
"If she heard what you just said, she would have slapped you too," Wei Wuxian grits out between clenched teeth, his fist just a mere inch away from the tip of Jiang Xichen’s nose.
Jiang Xichen's vision blurs with tears that threaten to fall, at the mention of his late sister. However, before he manages to get a single word out, Wei Wuxian has already withdrawn his arm and turned around, so the latter can no longer see his expression.
"As for my punch, I'll wait until your wound has healed."
Jiang Xichen raises an arm to shield his eyes the moment Wei Wuxian shuts the doors behind him.
He can still feel his heart pumping erratically against his ribs, each thump generating a new wave of suffocating emotions as the entirety of their earlier argument plays out in his head over and over again as if on repeat. Jiang Xichen lets out a choked sob before it loops for the umpteenth time, running the back of his hand across the fresh wetness against his lashes and groans.
He is not a fool.
He knows exactly why Wei Wuxian got angry—because he would have too, had their roles been reversed.
Simply put, if Wei Wuxian was the Yiling Patriarch, Jiang Xichen would have forgiven him for his past mistakes, and welcomed him back to Lotus Pier with open arms, because no matter what wrongs Wei Wuxian might have committed, he will still always be an irreplaceable part of their family.
And perhaps that is exactly what Wei Wuxian is trying to convey to him now: that he should stop trying to stay away from the people he care for, and to give his heart the chance to heal.
Unfortunately, understanding that does not miraculously remove the guilt that has been haunting him or ease the trauma lingering in the deepest recesses of his mind.
Knowing that Wei Wuxian has forgiven him does not make it any easier for him to forgive himself.
With a long defeated sigh, Jiang Xichen cracks his eyes open to stare blankly up at the aged carving depicting two smiling figures holding hands on his wooden bed frame.
It was something he made back when he was seven or eight years old, approximately a week after his father brought Wei Wuxian back to Lotus Pier. The orphan had been incredibly shy initially, refusing to open up and speak to anyone. The only thing Wei Wuxian showed any emotion to was a sketch of two kissing heads on his bedpost, symbolising his lost parents.
However, that only backfired on him when a servant chanced upon the illustrations and reported the vandalism to Jiang Fengmian.
Afraid that he would be tossed out of the sect, Wei Wuxian started sobbing uncontrollably until Jiang Xichen carved two smiling figures holding hands on his own bed frame as well, proclaiming that if anyone were to punish Wei Wuxian for this, they would have to punish him now too.
Wei Wuxian had been so touched by this single act of kindness that he started calling Jiang Xichen ‘Ge’, and ever since that day, the two brothers became inseparable.
"Yunmeng... Shuangjie…"
Jiang Xichen reads solemnly as he runs the pad of his thumb across the uneven grooves of the four Chinese characters beside the drawing.
He can still clearly remember coming up with that name together with Wei Wuxian once upon a time. Yet now, the syllables roll off of his tongue unnaturally, as though they are no longer his to say.
“Nothing has changed, Xichen.”
A firm and resolute voice comes from the doorway, interrupting Jiang Xichen's spiraling thoughts. The latter turns reflexively, only to catch a glimpse of Lan Wanyin in the doorway. His brows are knitted, eyes downcast, hands trembling around a basket of fresh medicinal herbs.
Du huo, dang gui, chuan xiong, bai shao, ren sheng, di huang, and gan cao1—all of these are herbs to improve blood and qi circulation.
Jiang Xichen feels a lump rising at the back of his throat at the knowledge that Lan Wanyin had probably left the room to source for these. However, the twinge of conscience is not enough to stop him from voicing the question on his mind.
"Did you hear everything Wei Wuxian said?"
Lan Wanyin does not answer instantly. Instead, he places down the basket and crosses the room in several long strides until he comes face to face with the taller man.
“Wei-ge made sure to keep everything exactly the same. After you left, although he did not explicitly state it, I could tell that he misses you. All these years, Wei-ge has never allowed anyone to modify any part of Lotus Pier, not even when the old roofs leak or when the number of disciples increases beyond what the buildings can comfortably house."
The hint of sadness in the depths of Jiang Xichen’s eyes turns almost forlorn at that, further accentuating the great sense of loss he feels within.
Lotus Pier has not changed.
Nothing in Lotus Pier has changed, and perhaps to Lan Wanyin, that fact alone might seem akin to some form of solace. However, to Jiang Xichen, it only represents unseen shackles—the very same dreary ones which have kept him trapped in the shadows of the past—on Wei Wuxian too.
“Wei Wuxian was always the strongest of us three. My father used to tell me that strength comes from within, and my mother, that the strong have a duty to protect the weak. So in my previous life, I once vowed to become strong enough to protect my loved ones. I wanted them to trust me, to rely on me. Yet ironically, I was the one who pushed them all away in the end."
"That is not true. Xichen, you are one of the strongest people I have ever known.”
"Me? Strong?" Jiang Xichen muses, lowering his gaze down to his hands. His smile turns self-deprecating. "No, I am merely a terrible person. I knew Wei Wuxian never aspired to become the sect leader. He wanted to be free, yet I was the one who forcibly tied him down with all these responsibilities."
"It was his choice to accept as much as it was yours to offer."
"I knew Wei Wuxian wouldn't reject me. That is the kind of person he is, and I took advantage of that," Jiang Xichen admits with a lengthy sigh. "And yet now, I find myself longing to have our relationship back to how it was. How hypocritical, how despicable."
Lan Wanyin does not reply at once. He simply lays a hand gently over Jiang Xichen’s, the comforting warmth exuding from their point of contact effectively calming the latter down.
"It is not despicable," Lan Wanyin finally says next. His voice is barely louder than a whisper, yet every single word he utters is a resonating stab into Jiang Xichen’s chest. "Yearning for things which are unattainable, longing for social connections, regretting past decisions in hindsight. All of these are just part and parcel of being human, of human nature."
A soft, choked sound escapes Jiang Xichen.
"You are saying it as though it is from experience, Wanyin."
“It is.”
Jiang Xichen snaps his head up.
Lan Wanyin does not meet his searching gaze. He has his head bowed, all the boldness he had exhibited earlier gone without a single trace.
“What do you mean by that?” Jiang Xichen finally asks after a long moment, his voice cracking on the last syllable.
Lan Wanyin's fingers twitch at the question, digits involuntarily tightening around the back of Jiang Xichen’s hand.
The world seemingly falls away around the two men then, enveloping them in a small bubble with an atmosphere so tense that it turns Jiang Xichen’s throat unbearably dry. Still, the latter does not speak, and as expected, Lan Wanyin eventually picks up where he left off.
"For the longest time, I have yearned for the warmth and comfort of someone who I knew would never cast a second glance my way. For the longest time, I simply dreamt of having a day when I will become strong enough to walk by his side. Yet, when everyone began slandering him, I did not step forward to shield him from the hurtful words. That is my mistake and regret."
"After he left, I started hoping for a second chance to set things right again. Even if it were just a single glimpse in a fleeting dream, so long as I was able to touch him, talk and apologise to him, then that would be more than enough. I thought it would be more than anything I ever deserved."
"But a person's greed is never satiated. Once I realised he came back, I started hoping that he would choose to stay. I initially wanted to simply remain by his side, even if it meant that I had to keep my feelings hidden forever. So long as he was beside me, it would be sufficient for me to go on. But lately, I have started becoming greedy again."
Jiang Xichen swallows thickly, surprised by Lan Wanyin's sudden forwardness. The Lan er-gongzi that he knows can be rash at times, but has never been this bold before.
"Wanyin, you…"
Lan Wanyin's bottom lip quivers. He sucks in a grounding breath, ignoring the beginnings of forming tears clinging to the lashes of his downcast eyes. He parts his lips as though he is about to speak, only to decide against it and attempt to turn away at the very last moment.
Jiang Xichen reflexively grabs the smaller man's retreating wrist, and the resulting force yanks Lan Wanyin backwards, making him lose his balance and tumble right into Jiang Xichen’s arms. Unfortunately for him, this unexpected fall causes Lan Wanyin's elbow to connect with the healing wound at the latter's abdomen, eliciting a wince, and Lan Wanyin is quick to struggle to get back onto his feet.
"Don't move," Jiang Xichen says, voice hoarse and strained.
Lan Wanyin stills at once.
Jiang Xichen presses his lips into a thin rigid line.
He does not need Lan Wanyin to explicitly specify exactly who he is talking about earlier—it already is painfully obvious at this point. However, Jiang Xichen does not wish to make any promises. At least not yet, because he does not want to give Lan Wanyin any false hopes.
Even if he plans on taking down Jin Guangyao, there is no guarantee he will succeed after all. And as usual, Lan Wanyin infers his unspoken words.
"I am sorry. I never intended to let you know. I understand that this is hardly the time and place to burden you with my feelings."
"Burden?" Jiang Xichen repeats, face pinching as though the word left a bad taste in his mouth. Truth be told, he had never planned on making his own feelings known yet, but there is no way he will be able to stay silent after hearing Lan Wanyin put himself down like this.
"Wanyin, did you know how much seeing you each time during the Sunshot Campaign meant to me? I had lost nearly everything else then. No one wanted to have an alliance with a poor rebuilding sect, yet you were the only one who came by, volunteering to be part of our forces with absolutely nothing back in exchange."
"That was because I… I had ulterior motives…"
Jiang Xichen slips his hand down from Lan Wanyin’s wrist to his hand, pressing their palms together, the temperature of Zidian searing against their joined hands.
"The song that you composed helped me through one of the darkest times in my life. It was the memory of that tune that helped me through my longest nights on the Burial Mounds. You were there for me at every low point of my life—be it physically, or the memory of you that I kept close to my heart."
Jiang Xichen pauses, pressing his forehead to Lan Wanyin's. “You, you have always been my reason to live.”
The white sash between their foreheads is the only thing preventing them from making direct contact—and it is only fitting, because responsibilities to their sect and family had always been one of the things to hold them back.
But it wouldn’t be like this forever.
Just a while more, until they take down Jin Guangyao.
Lan Wanyin interlocks their fingers.
Notes:
1. I picked several herbs from the ingredient list which make up “Du Huo Ji Sheng Tang”. Please note that there might be some medical and price inaccuracies. You can read more about each ingredient here. These are the ones I used: pubescent angelica roots (du huo), female ginseng (dang gui), szechuan lovage roots (chuan xiong), white peony roots (bai shao), ginseng (ren sheng), unprepared rehmannia (di huang), and liquorice (gan cao). Back
***
"Sect Leader, we have made the necessary arrangements for sending the two women to Lotus Pier. This is the list of herbs we intend to give to the Yunmeng Jiang Sect."
Nie Huaisang folds the paper fan in his hand with a crisp snap, his green sleeve billowing with the motion as he accepts the scroll and gives it a brief once-over. "Add the rensheng I recently got into the list.”
The head disciple blinks twice before erupting into a series of complaints. “B-But that’s from your personal vault!”
Nie Huaisang raises a brow, undeterred. “And?”
“That… That was given as a gift from Lianfang-zun to you before you left Lanling. I am afraid that your identity will be blown if you pass it on to the Jiang Sect…”
A dark, unreadable look crosses Nie Huaisang’s face as his unsmiling eyes harden into a piercing gaze. “That’s alright. I want them to know. No, I need them to know."
*₊°。 ❀°。°✿ FANART CORNER ✿° .❀。• *
Chapter 27: Ramification I
Notes:
TW: Jiang Xichen's deteriorating mental state. Mentions of possible anxiety attacks and dissociation.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
<FLASHBACK>
It has been several months since the utter collapse of the Qishan Wen Sect, and along with their downfall, the flourishing city which once served as the sect's main hub for the longest time, fell into complete disarray as well.
With the Lanling Jin Sect boldly capturing the remaining Wen remnants in broad daylight, the rogue cultivators lurking around in Qishan quickly fled in fear of being seen in association with the criminals, diverging into multiple directions by foot and sword in search of new and better locations of activity. Of them, the renowned Four Great Sects—Lanling Jin, Yunmeng Jiang, Gusu Lan and Qinghe Nie received the greatest influx of cultivators.
Seeing the newfound business opportunities, many merchant stores begin emerging all over the four major cities one after another, viciously targeting any and all travelers who stop by, and Lan Wanyin who has just stepped past the city gates into Yunmeng after a night-hunt is promptly called to by several pedalling merchants.
"Handsome, judging by your attire, you aren't a local, are you? If you are visiting Yunmeng for the first time, you most definitely have to try our famous dou pi.1 It is one of Yunmeng's best dishes, and I assure you that its taste is completely life-changing!”
“Life-changingly bad, you mean! Instead of that overrated dish, why not have a taste of our malt candy instead? Don't be fooled by its simple appearance. The method we use to make this is a family secret which has been passed down through generations. You can walk down this entire street and you won't find a single store that makes this better than mine! Even the Sect Leader of the Yunmeng Jiang Sect buys from my store everyday!"
“Aiya, xiao-di~2 Don’t fall for their blatant lies. The Sect Leader does not even like sweets! Let this jiejie tell you her words of wisdom: food only lasts for an instant, after you eat it in, you simply shit it back out and everything is all over. Instead, you should consider buying my silk flowers. Not only is it low maintenance, its beauty will also last forever!”
"How terribly crude and uneducated of you to say that! Don't listen to her. Food brings happiness, and happiness cannot be bought with money! Trust me, dou pi is the path to true happiness!"
"Ridiculous, do you even hear your own nonsense? If just like what you said, food can bring happiness and you can buy food with money, why would you even think for a moment that money can't buy happiness?"
The dialect in Yunmeng is vastly different from the soft and gentle Wu dialect in Gusu, with each syllable sounding curt and gruff even when the speaker is not angry, and the confused Lan Wanyin freezes up awkwardly between the three loudly bickering merchants as an entire crowd gathers around them to watch the ongoing commotion.
“Oi, I tell you, don’t get swayed by the things these wretched women say. We men have to band together to get through these trying times. I’ll throw in an extra half dou pi and free chillies for you.”
“Tsk tsk tsk, half? Young man, you do not have to pay any attention to that stingy miser. We have to close our stores early today for the Water Lantern Festival, so if you buy from me now, I will throw in one extra malt candy specially for you. You should know that sugar is not cheap with the rising prices nowadays so it is a pretty good deal, I’d say!”
Lan Wanyin perks up at the mention of the Water Lantern Festival. It was a fresh piece of information he had chanced upon after his night-hunt in a town nearby this evening, and had instantly rushed to Lotus Pier in hopes of being able to spend some time with Jiang Xichen.
But now that the adrenaline has ebbed, Lan Wanyin can only lament how foolish his rash decision was. Not only does he not know if Jiang Xichen has any plans to attend the festival, he does not even know which part of the Pier the festival would be held at.
“Xiao-di, ah, xiao-di, why are you looking so distraught? Did your girlfriend stand you up? If so, you definitely need some of my fate-twining silk flowers. These ones are special. They are made from one continuous piece of silk and legend has it that if you unroll one of my flowers, it will lead you to your fated person!"
“Legend? What legend? Have you gone senile? You have only been selling your flowers here for a few weeks. If your silk flowers became a legend then my malt candy recipe that has passed down five generations would be a god by now!”
Lan Wanyin takes an unobtrusive step away from the trio instantly, feeling immensely overwhelmed before he had even inquired anything about the festival. He takes a moment to glance at the encirclement of onlookers blocking off his escape route, and seriously contemplates what he can afford to do as the three furious store owners take threatening steps towards him, each vying with the other two for a chance to drag Lan Wanyin back to their shop.
“Alright, alright, that's enough." A familiar voice sounds from behind Lan Wanyin before an arm clad in a purple arrow sleeve drapes over his shoulder in the very next moment. The Lan cultivator's heart rate immediately hastens when he feels the hard press of a muscular body against his side. "Give me some face and stop putting this good friend of mine in a spot. It took me quite a few years to convince him to drop by to visit me, you know. What if he thinks Yunmeng is a scary place and decides to never come back again?"
The oldest individual of the shopkeeper trio widens her eyes in surprise. "What? You mean to say that this suave young master is your friend? Aiya, then he should have said so earlier and we would've given him the special insider discount! Here, it's still not too late, take 'em all!"
They forcefully stuff the bulk of their wares into an astonished Lan Wanyin's arms without any further words, managing to chuck the young man five thick pieces of spicy dou pi, half a dozen malt candies and several intricately handcrafted silk flowers of different sizes before Jiang Xichen finally steps in again to save the day.
"Stop, stop, stop. Gusu people are not good with spicy dishes. Even if you give him so many, he can't eat them all."
The male shopkeeper clicks his tongue and gives several exaggerated shakes of his head. "No, no. Jiang-zai,3 you must understand. This is a long-term investment. Look at how handsome he is now. Give him a few more years and he will definitely top that something-something young masters list. When he does, I will tell the world that he frequents my stall and my dou pi is the secret behind his flawless complexion and tightened pores!"
Jiang Xichen straightens his back, pulling away from Lan Wanyin and lightly stepping before him as if to shield the latter from the grubby merchants and onlooking crowd.
"I am currently still the first on that list. Wouldn't it be the same if I helped you advertise?"
The three store owners slap their thighs and sigh in unison.
"Aiya, how would it be the same? You are a local, so your words will naturally hold no weight at all. It is only when someone from a different city vouches for food in a different province that it starts being believable."
"Besides, if we are to talk about advertising, we will definitely have to go with your friend's physique over yours. A perfectly symmetrical face, jade clear skin and pronounced facial features—it's too eyecatching. I can't wait to hang one of his drawings on my cart and wait for a crowd to flock around!"
Being from Gusu where the people do not speak so frivolously, the punchline flies over the displeased Lan Wanyin’s head completely, and he angrily perks up to interrupt the conversation.
"I wholly disagree. Xichen's looks are and will be second to none. There is no way anyone can ever compare to him, myself included."
A long awkward sense of silence stretches amongst the group—with all of them being genuinely dumbfounded at the surprisingly earnest way Lan Wanyin gave his honest opinion.
Next, as if on cue, the three merchants instantly begin closing in on the duo with a sly glint in their eyes.
"Jiang-zai, it is time for you to spill the beans~ Where did you find such a good catch? How long have you been keeping this from us? Does your sister know?"
"Oh my, just look at how humble and precious this boy is! Standing up for his dear friend like this, without a single trace of hesitation. How pure, how wholesome, how youthful!"
"Are you here to tour the festival with Jiang-zai?"
"What festival? Look at how close the two of them are already. Of course this handsome man is here to meet the family!"
"Aiyo, then you definitely can't go up to Lotus Pier empty-handed. First impressions are very important for these kind of things! Here, take some of these as gifts! It is his sister's favourite snack!"
Feeling as if something in the air has radically shifted, Lan Wanyin then swiftly takes several steps backwards and away from the trio at once, a brief explanation hot on the tip of his tongue. "It is a misunderstanding, I–"
"Trust me, there is absolutely no use saying anything to them when they get like this." An amused voice interrupts Lan Wanyin at the exact same moment a hand wraps around his wrist, and young Lan cultivator raises his head in alarm. His sight collides with Jiang Xichen’s warm amber eyes—startlingly light-coloured, to the point that they seemingly draw all the attention away from the tired dark shadows under them.
Jiang Xichen tightens his grip, an amused smile tilting the corners of his lips skywards.
"Let's run!"
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
"Do you think they have ceased searching for us?" Lan Wanyin questions, briefly scanning the cobbled path they are currently on with a sidelong glance.
Jiang Xichen slows to a complete stop, surprised by the sudden question. He had not expected Lan Wanyin to genuinely think the shop owners would actually give chase, but there is something oddly endearing about his naivety.
"They probably did, since we took a shortcut through the alleyway and crossed over to the other end of the city," Jiang Xichen answers simply, gesturing to a line of wooden architecture in the distance, partially hidden behind a heavy door with an elaborate lotus motif engraved onto its exterior. "See? Right over there, that is Lotus Pier. Though most of the disciples are out to celebrate the Water Lantern Festival right now."
"The Water Lantern Festival…"
The Jiang sect leader’s gaze softens when he notes the distinct way Lan Wanyin eyes light up. It is only for a short moment, but Jiang Xichen will never forget the brief touch of colour unfurling high on the younger man's cheeks, or the way his thin rosy lips part to suck in a deep, grounding breath.
“Xichen, I… do you… would you want to tour the festival together with me?”
Their eyes meet during the awkward silence then, molten amber against startling steel blue, and Jiang Xichen's breath hitches at once.
He knows he should not permit himself to accept the invitation, but there is no stopping the sense of warmth blazing white-hot at his fingertips when Lan Wanyin tightens his grip around his hand, the gesture almost as hopeful as it is shy.
"It would be my pleasure to," Jiang Xichen answers, his polite tone and choice of words reflecting the apprehension he feels about leading Lan Wanyin on like this, but the deepening of the endearing blush on the Lan Wanyin's face blows all of Jiang Xichen's previous hesitation aside.
What we have lost will never come back, but after this war is over, I am sure some sort of normalcy will be re-established.
The words which Lan Wanyin once told him at Jiangling echoes in Jiang Xichen's mind. He did not see them as any more than simple platitudes back then, however he clings to them almost desperately now, soaking each word in just like how he soaks in the warmth of Lan Wanyin’s calloused hand in his, as he leads the latter round the dark corner and down toward the bustling pier.
Lan Wanyin's eyes promptly widen, amazement lighting up his youthful features as he takes in the gorgeous festive sights.
Unlike the other half of the city which is still full of merchants trying to cram in their last sales, the festive decorations for this portion of Yunmeng is already well underway.
Everywhere Lan Wanyin looks is an infinite burst of colours.
The lake itself is covered in a sea of speckled amber, the small candle within each floating paper lantern flickering as the breeze draws them out further into the distance. Bright decorative lights strung on rich purple fabric also extend from overhead, stretching in a straight path down to the docks and illuminating every single store along the way.
The cobblestone paths are bustling with life—filled with groups of giggling young maidens passing them by with hastened steps, loud-mouthed men yelling for people to look at their wares, and grinning children chasing each other around with hearty peals of laughter.
Jiang Xichen expertly leads the awestruck Lan Wanyin through the crowd, down to the docks where the main bulk of the festival attendees are gathered.
"Wei Wuxian said he wanted to advertise this festival to the neighbouring towns for more people to join in this year, so the disciples worked extra hard to decorate Yunmeng. Isn't it pretty?"
"Very. I have never seen anything like this before."
"Not even in Caiyi Town?"
"Not even in Caiyi Town."
Jiang Xichen laughs in response, the sound mellifluous.
It had once been his dream to show Lan Wanyin around the town he grew up in, and point out all of his memorable spots to the latter.
Back then, when Jiang Xichen first had this idea and invited Lan Wanyin to visit him, he had not made any sense of his feelings towards the younger man yet and simply laughed off Lan Wanyin's hesitation and rejection. Unfortunately, now that he has finally placed a name to the multitude of emotions he has towards the latter, the familiar and nostalgic Lotus Pier that he grew up in has become a mere relic in his memories.
Lan Wanyin shifts the items in his arms, shuffling closer to Jiang Xichen when he spots a vendor selling a whole range of items from delicately crafted hairpins to exquisitely carved wedding jade bangles.
“Do people really buy such jewellery at a festival like this?” the question in Lan Wanyin’s mind slips out aloud, drawing a good-natured chuckle out from Jiang Xichen.
“Of course they do. This festival is a good chance for people to express their feelings towards their intended," Jiang Xichen adds with a thoughtful hum while appraising the huge array of hairpins on display. “The origin of this festival started with farmers floating a portion of their crops down the river to pray for abundant harvests during autumn, but nowadays the younger people float wishing lanterns in spring to pray for relationships and fertility."
The tips of Lan Wanyin’s ears flare red at once.
It is painfully obvious that the Lan cultivator had absolutely no idea what the festival actually symbolised and entailed before he blindly invited Jiang Xichen to join him—and the latter takes in each and every flicker of Lan Wanyin's embarrassed expressions.
"These two young masters! Are you here to shop for engagement jewellery for your significant other? If so, please feel free to step up and take a closer look! We have imported only the best for this year's festival. The ones on my left even have gold threads twined into the design. I assure you that your betrothed will definitely love it no matter what status she might be!"
Jiang Xichen leans over, whispering cheekily against the shell of Lan Wanyin’s ear. "So which hairpin would you prefer, Lan er-gongzi?"
The flush on Lan Wanyin's ears instantly deepens several shades, spreading down and across his cheeks at Jiang Xichen's shameless insinuation. He draws away immediately, taking several large steps backwards with his brows furrowed and eyes narrowed, only to knock into something at the height of his knee.
Briefly, Lan Wanyin then glances behind himself, and is surprised to find a snivelling, jittering child.
“I apologise–” the flustered Lan Wanyin says hastily, politely bowing to reach a hand out to help the toddler up, but she simply grabs onto the hem of Lan Wanyin’s white trousers with her scraped palms, and begins bawling her eyes out while screaming for her parents.
The scene attracts a small crowd around them, with several passer-bys pointing and whispering amongst themselves. Lan Wanyin freezes instantly in the face of the unexpected event, his expression growing more solemn by the second as he is at a total loss as to how to calm the crying child down.
Meanwhile, Jiang Xichen simply snags one of the malt candies from Lan Wanyin before crouching down to the height of the crying girl, and waves the candy before her eyes.
“If you return the pouch, gege will give you this candy."
Her face instantaneously pales. She scrambles to her feet at once, intending to dart off down the street, but Jiang Xichen manages to grab her by the arm before she can make her escape.
“If you return the pouch, gege will give you this candy," Jiang Xichen repeats once more, his tone flat and pitch unchanging.
She hiccups. "Just… Just one...?"
The Jiang Sect Leader blinks twice in momentary surprise before a knowing smile spreads across his features.
"Being able to bargain this well at such a young age—you are indeed a true-bred Yunmeng person." Jiang Xichen gestures to the rest of the dou pi and malt candy in Lan Wanyin's arms. "I will also throw in all those too. That amount of food alone should be more than enough for you and your siblings to tide over for a while, right?"
The girl snaps her eyes over to the packets of food and back up to Jiang Xichen's sincere smile, before speedily tossing the snow white pouch straight into Jiang Xichen’s face. The motion distracts Jiang Xichen for a split second and she follows up by swiping her foot out at an angle, smashing it into Lan Wanyin's shin.
When that barely even causes Lan Wanyin to flinch, the ill-mannered thief loses the remaining bulk of her bravery and simply snatches as much food as she can out of the white-robed cultivator's arms, then disappears down the street before anyone else in the crowd is able to react in time to stop her.
"Aiyo, this hurts so much," Jiang Xichen grumbles exaggeratedly as he passes the qiankun pouch back to Lan Wanyin and stalks off towards the edge of the lake. "What on earth did you even put in there? Taels of silver?"
Lan Wanyin averts his gaze sheepishly. "My qin.”
Jiang Xichen falls silent, tongue-tied, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple from the sudden overwhelming awkwardness blooming between them. Lan Wanyin had only uttered two simple words, but it contains a full narrative of how he could have easily summoned his spiritual weapon back from the girl even if she did actually make off with the pouch.
His intervention… was not needed at all.
How terribly embarrassing.
"Thank you."
Lan Wanyin's voice is soft, but each syllable strikes a warm chord in Jiang Xichen's heart. "It pains me to admit, but I failed to notice that the girl took Sandu. If it was not for you–"
"Sandu?" Jiang Xichen's gaze settles on the sword in Lan Wanyin's hand, then back up to the qiankun pouch on Lan Wanyin’s palm. "You named your qin the same name as your sword?!"
Lan Wanyin's expression darkens. "What's wrong with that?"
Jiang Xichen raises his hands placatingly. “Nothing much, nothing much. I mean, Wei Wuxian names his sword ‘Suibian’ as well, so I have absolutely no right to laugh at your naming sense!”
Lan Wanyin’s brow twitches. “What will you name my qin then?”
“That's simple: the peach tree is young and elegant; brilliant are its flowers, the peach tree is young and elegant; exuberant are its leaves—Hua Zhen.”4
The plausible intentions Jiang Xichen had by quoting such a poem under their current circumstances flares up a bright sense of embarrassment within the younger cultivator.
Sandu flashes diagonally upward with a menacing glint as the red-faced Lan Wanyin lunges straight at the older cultivator in a moment of sheer embarrassment. “Jiang Xichen! Are you making fun of me?!”
Having expected the outburst, Jiang Xichen nimbly twists his body to skilfully evade the incoming blow. The end of Sandu's sheathed scabbard stabs into the blank space where the Jiang Sect Leader’s shoulder had been, narrowly missing him by several millimetres.
Jiang Xichen allows Lan Wanyin’s momentum to carry him further forward, before reaching out to tuck a lock of hair gently behind the fuming man’s ear.
"Say, Wanyin, doesn't this feel a little like déjà vu?"
Lan Wanyin’s breath catches. Jiang Xichen’s smile softens.
“Your footwork has certainly improved a lot since I last saw you,” Jiang Xichen continues sincerely, joyfully oblivious to the slight tremor running through the length of Lan Wanyin’s lithe body at the praise, as he slings a friendly arm around the white-robed cultivator’s shoulder. “Foresight, patience, balance and control—everything that I’d taught you that day, you have managed to learn them all impeccably. As expected of my favourite student.”
Lan Wanyin shrugs Jiang Xichen’s arm off. “You have other students?”
Jiang Xichen blinks several times in succession lamely, too taken aback by the evident displeasure in Lan Wanyin’s tone to formulate a proper response.
Meanwhile, the simmering jealousy in Lan Wanyin boils over with each passing second of silence, and he reaches out to Jiang Xichen’s hand rashly, only to deepen the small frown on his face further.
"Xichen, why are you this cold?"
Jiang Xichen withdraws his hand immediately and inclines his body away from Lan Wanyin.
"That is hardly surprising, right? We seldom get low temperatures as regularly here as in the mountainous areas of Gusu, so the people of Yunmeng get cold easily during these few months when the seasons change."
Lan Wanyin does not bring up how Jiang Xichen had seemed perfectly fine spending hours playing in Gusu's cool streams during their teenage years, or how most of the commoners passing them by are already in their thinner spring attires. Instead, he merely stares at Jiang Xichen harder, meticulously scrutinising every inch of the purple-clad sect leader with watchful eyes.
Jiang Xichen shifts, clearly uncomfortable.
He knows. He has obviously found out already.
That's because you can't hide it from him forever. You have to tell the truth. Tell him it is his fault. Say it was because of him you accepted us into your body. Say it was because of him that you lost your humanity.
Jiang Xichen stubbornly pulls his attention away from the droning murmurings at the back of his mind, and forces a grin on despite the swarming negativity plaguing his thoughts.
Today is a very special, very joyous occasion.
It is the first day he'd finally met Lan Wanyin after so many months, and while it might have been nothing more than a simple whim when Jiang Xichen decided to approach Lan Wanyin on the streets earlier, there is no denying that there was at least a small part of him that secretly hoped he will find some shreds of nostalgic familiarity, some remnants of the illusion that nothing had changed.
And he did.
He was reminded of those lazy days spent studying at Cloud Recesses, of those playful banters and the younger Lan Wanyin's flushed pouting face—yet ironically, it is also these same moments which remind Jiang Xichen that everything is already starkly different from how they were back then.
Jiang Xichen picks up one of the delicate lotus-shaped lanterns by the bank. He watches, transfixed, his gaze centered upon the dancing golden flame in the middle of the flower, as he briefly recalls how excited the younger him had always been for this festival.
Sneaking out from Lotus Pier just to attend this particular event, and going as far as to ask for a dozen lanterns, then taking nearly half a shichen to pray before releasing each individual wishing lantern.
He was so incorrigibly naïve back then, with so many hopes and dreams—to grow up faster, become stronger, achieve happiness, find love, and protect the harmony of his family—yet now, after growing up, Jiang Xichen realises that he has nothing left to wish for.
There is nothing more he could possibly hope for in the short remaining portion he has in this lifetime.
Jiang Xichen crouches down, gingerly lowering a hand to release the lotus lantern without making any prayers. The wooden base sends ripples through the cool surface of the lake, and the orange candlelight briefly flickers once, before the lantern draws out of reach.
He turns to his side after, just in time to catch Lan Wanyin's eyes fluttering open. His curled lashes are long, their ends appearing almost honey-brown under the warm tones of the dancing flame.
The gentle glow casts a tender quality onto Lan Wanyin's features, mellowing out the contours of his face, and Jiang Xichen finds himself trailing his gaze down, past the sight of Lan Wanyin's angular cheekbones, the soft slope of his nose, and lands on the sight of the man's thin parted pink lips.
Wanyin, I love you.
It is only four simple words, but it requires the courage of two lifetimes to utter them.
Jiang Xichen had previously thought that there was nothing else he wanted, nothing else he could long for, but it is undeniable that he wants this, wants these slow moments with Lan Wanyin where he can just be himself, without the need to lead armies and defeat enemies, or face the crippling pressure of rebuilding a sect back from shambles.
A pang runs through him then, fuelled by equal parts of desire and regret.
He wants time to stop right here and then, yearns for it to with every fibre of his being, just so he can immortalise this exact moment forever—and it is with this desperation that the Jiang sect leader grabs onto Lan Wanyin's bare wrist as the man extends it from under his sleeve to set the lantern into the water.
"Wanyin, I–"
The lotus lantern falls from Lan Wanyin's hand with the resulting jerk, and the candle extinguishes instantly upon contact with the water.
"Xichen?"
Lan Wanyin's steel blue eyes are clouded with worry, yet a single lone glance from him is sufficient for Jiang Xichen to clamp up once more, with the rest of his sentence trickling away like fine sand lost through the gaps of time.
You do not deserve him.
You should know better than anyone else that you do not deserve him at all.
A sense of helplessness overwhelms the purple clad sect leader, akin to a budding sense of fear that grips his heart because he realises there and then, that he can never and will never be with Lan Wanyin.
Getting rid of the resentment energy in his body?
Returning to being a coreless civilian by washing his hands off of all sect matters?
Ridiculous. It is far too late now.
Everything has changed far too radically ever since the battle at Jiangling. All the things he had come to terms with and those which he wanted to accomplish in the future—none of them will be able to come true anymore, because Jiang Xichen knows that he has completely damned himself from the very moment he accepted the entirety of the resentment energy from the iron sword into his own body.
Jiang Xichen releases his Lan Wanyin's wrist, withdrawing his hand away as if burnt, and takes a step backwards into the long, distorted shadows cast by the looming foliage around the lake, a step further away from the brilliant glow reflecting off of Lan Wanyin's pristine white robes.
You two are now of different worlds.
You know that you can never be together with him anymore, so why do you still cling to your past? Why do you still cling so desperately to this?
You are going to die soon. Or could it be… you want him to join you too? It is that thing which everyone likes to say, right: the more the merrier!
Jiang Xichen's chest heaves as the dark core inside him whizzes alongside his fluctuating emotions, sending bouts of searing pain ripping through his system and turning his body weak at the knees.
Come on, look! You said you love him, don’t you? Then look. Look at what you will do to him. Look at what your love will do to him!
Just see how broken you've made him become.
Do you still love him like this?
Can you still love him like this?
"Xichen?" the Lan cultivator calls worriedly, brows scrunched.
The words he hears from Lan Wanyin next are all twisted, garbled and jarring through the roaring screams in his ears, but nothing can rival the devastating sight of jagged angry red lines tearing through Lan Wanyin's body right before Jiang Xichen’s eyes.
Trails of bright crimson cobweb across the old wound on Lan Wanyin’s chest and up his neck, spilling like a torrent of blooming red spider lilies from between pale lips, and Jiang Xichen screws his eyes shut, mortified.
A wave of nausea rises to the back of his throat as a contrasting sense of fear settles at the pit of his stomach. He can almost smell it again—the cloying scent of rot and death that had always enveloped the Burial Mounds, emanating from Lan Wanyin himself.
"Xichen-ge…?" Lan Wanyin tries again, taking a step forward, towards the shadows, and Jiang Xichen immediately snaps his eyes wide open and pulls away, scrambling back on shaking feet.
The pain peaks into a never-ending wave, blurring the lines between reality and dream as Lan Wanyin's facial features contort brokenly into a demented mess.
It is all your fault, the shadows lurking at the corners of his vision sneer viciously. It is always your fault and you know it.
Your presence is the reason why Yunmeng Jiang cannot return to its former glory. You know exactly what the other sects say about you behind your back, don't you?
Jiang Xichen draws in a ragged breath.
Bile rises to the back of his throat, sour and vile, but the Jiang sect leader realises with a start that he no longer processes anything else other than that.
The colours around him blur into a whirl, melding in together with the white of Lan Wanyin’s robes, and Jiang Xichen allows the individual screams in his head to overwhelm him, until they reach the point where they become a cohesive chorus which fade into the background.
.
.
.
.
.
.
“Ge? Ge!”
The voice Jiang Xichen hears is akin to an anchor to reality, a guide to lead him back to the present, yet when he regains himself, he quickly realises that he is no longer out on the docks.
He is indoors now, with a translucent sheen of silvery moonlight filtering in through the doors. The room he is in is nearly completely dark though, with only several flickering candles lit up at the corners.
A shadow flashes before his eyes, followed by a sudden gust of wind brushing across his features, and Jiang Xichen barely manages to grab Wei Wuxian's hand before the hit lands upon his cheek.
"What is the meaning of this?" Jiang Xichen questions, perplexed, as he swings Wei Wuxian's outstretched arm away. However, to his utmost surprise, Wei Wuxian does not back down.
"I should be the one asking you that, Ge. Why are you sitting in the ancestral hall in the middle of the night with Shuoyue? And look, you're bleeding too."
Jiang Xichen withdraws his hand before Wei Wuxian can reach out to his injury and hurriedly sheathes Shuoyue with a crisp clang, lowering the weapon to his lap. "It is nothing major. I just happened to graze myself when I was wiping Shuoyue earlier. It will heal in a while."
"Huh, you are wiping it again? Just how many times do you need to wipe your sword in one day?"
"Three times. And what about yours? When was the last time you wiped Suibian?"
"Aiya, Ge, you know me. I mainly use talismans instead of the sword nowadays. Since I don't use my sword much, then there is naturally no need to wipe it, right?"
Jiang Xichen shoots him a pointed look.
Wei Wuxian averts his face.
"In any case this is not what I came here to find you for," the younger man tuts next, scrambling to change the subject before Jiang Xichen can press on, and pulls a clunky-looking device out from behind his back. "Look, Ge. This is what I went on the night-hunt for! Do you remember that I once said it would be great if there was a tool that will point us towards evil? I waited for a few years but no one created it, so I took matters into my own hands!"
Jiang Xichen lowers his gaze to the half-finished item in Wei Wuxian’s hand, immediately recognising the compass from the rudimentary sketches he had seen strewn about in Wei Wuxian’s room over the past few weeks.
"I just tested the prototype on my night-hunt and it works perfectly! It still lacks finesse and takes a bit too much time to sense resentment energy and settle in a single direction, but I think after I finish fine-tuning it, it'll be good to go!"
As Wei Wuxian speaks, the pointer which had been spinning leisurely, creaks to a slow stop in Jiang Xichen's direction.
Jiang Xichen's blood runs cold right down to his marrow.
Meanwhile, Wei Wuxian squints in confusion, setting the compass back into a neutral position, only for the pointer to spin back to Jiang Xichen again.
"Huh? Why is it acting weird again? Don't tell me I broke it when I dropped it earlier?!" Wei Wuxian groans, lifting the half-finished device up in different angles to study it. "This can't be true! I spent the past three weeks making this!"
Swallowing the lump in his throat down, Jiang Xichen tunes Wei Wuxian's comically exaggerated cries of anguish out and allows his gaze to wander around the familiar ancestral hall.
The thick heavy purple curtains, the beaded partitions, and even the polished wooden tablets on the altar—everything is exactly the same as it had been when he left Lotus Pier earlier today, yet Jiang Xichen cannot seem to shake off the uneasy feeling that there is something very fundamentally different right now.
First and foremost, how did he get back home?
Why was he wiping Shuoyue?
Where is Wanyin?
No, rather, was Wanyin even ever in Lotus Pier today? What if that encounter too, was merely a figment of his imagination?
"Shijie is right. You are acting really weird."
Jiang Xichen turns his gaze back in Wei Wuxian’s direction, only to find that the man is now gone. Instead, his sister is seated in his place, with a tray perched on her lap, balancing a white porcelain jar and a bowl of soup atop it.
The rich fragrance of pepper and pork ribs wafts into the ancestral hall as she ladles the soup out, but instead of feeling any form of comfort from the aroma, Jiang Xichen recoils instead, curling in on himself. Doubt begins seeping into his consciousness, multiplied by the incessant throbbing of his head.
Jiang Xichen presses a hand to his head, ice cold fingertips digging into the acupoints around his temple to soothe the mounting ache.
How much of what he sees before his eyes now is true?
How much of what he feels is actually authentic?
Is he still sane?
Is he still himself? Can he still remain as himself?
A hand rests on his shoulder. The touch is light, soft and gentle, nothing at all like Wei Wuxian’s, and Jiang Xichen snaps his gaze up to spot his worried sister kneeling on the ground right before him.
She cups his face tenderly between her hands. “A-Huan, I am very worried about you. You don’t seem to have been sleeping well at all lately.”
“You know you can always tell jiejie anything, right?"
Jiang Xichen's eyes widen at the implication behind those words—at the suggestion that his sister might know he has something to hide, and his mind immediately buzzes with a list of excuses he can use to deflect the situation.
He cannot possibly burden her with any of this. Jiang Yanli is not a cultivator. She is someone Jiang Xichen had once vowed to protect, someone he wanted to look strong and reliable in front of, so there is absolutely no need for him to selfishly tell her what he really feels: the inadequacy of him as a sect leader, the bone-deep fatigue, and his desire to give up.
“I understand that I might not be the most reliable person you can open up to, but I am also from the Yunmeng Jiang family. What I mean is that… A-Huan, you do not have to bear all the responsibilities of the sect alone. Even if I am unable to help much, you still have A-Xian to count on, right?"
She pulls him into an embrace then, her frail arms winding around his shuddering frame to create a safe cocoon that seemingly stops the entire world on its axis. In here, there is no time, no wind, no rain, and no suffering. Even the voices in Jiang Xichen’s head appear to have died down as he leans his head wearily down onto her shoulder.
“A-Jie…” His voice is raspy and hoarse, raw.
She threads her fingers through his hair.
“A-Huan, the war is already over. It is now an era of peace within the cultivation world. You do not need to push yourself to use demonic cultivation anymore. You can always go back to normal cultivation again.”
Jiang Xichen hears something inside him crack before he feels it.
A rush of adrenaline bursts into his veins alongside Jiang Yanli's words, melting away all the remaining fragments of his already splintered composure, and the Jiang sect leader promptly rips his body out of the embrace, his chest heaving with each stuttered breath he draws in.
As if on cue, Jiang Yanli's silhouette turns coal black and her body crumbles right before his eyes, disappearing like a blur of red maple leaves sailing away in a late afternoon breeze.
In her wake is Wei Wuxian's compass, with its orienting arrow pointing straight at him in a silent accusation.
Jiang Xichen lashes out at once, flinging the accursed device to the side where it crashes against the wall. However, instead of the expected dull thud of heavy parts, the sound that Jiang Xichen catches is the sharp smashing of porcelain.
Confused, Jiang Xichen hurriedly snaps his eyes open, only to find the broken pieces of his sister's jar of soup.
“No,” Jiang Xichen whispers, voice cracking into a hoarse rasp, as he scrambles forward on all fours, desperately crawling towards the spilled remnants of his sister's lotus root and pork rib soup. “No, no, no, this can’t be. Please, no."
You can never go back.
Everyone close to you will die. They will all die by your hand, because you will lose control and kill them all.
Jiang Xichen drags bloodied fingers through the mess, clawing wretchedly through the sharp broken shards, mushed lotus roots and tender chunks of meat, but even the bouts of physical pain from that alone is unable to wash out the tormenting anguish twisting deep in his chest.
As if on cue, the dark core inside him sends out wave after wave of suffocating pain which spreads through the blackened flesh on his chest and down every inch of his meridians, to his extremities.
Jiang Xichen clutches at the front of his frumpled purple robes, grabbing at the lapels as he struggles to breathe.
I disagree completely. Xichen's looks are and will be second to none. There is no way anyone can ever compare to him, myself included.
The words that gave Jiang Xichen so much happiness when he heard them earlier today are just akin to shackles of agony right now, pinning him down.
"Will you still think so, if you know how abhorrent I look now, Wanyin?"
A chuckle bubbles its way out from Jiang Xichen’s chest, but it is strained, sounding more like a choked sob than actual laughter. He does it once more, shoulders shaking, before pressing the heels of his palms to his eyes, trying to hold back his emotions, yet the threads binding his composure together still continue unravelling and falling limply by his feet.
Jiang Xichen opens his mouth, yet not a single audible sound comes out. Instead, the world around him turns into a whirling blur, along with the sounds, taste, and smell.
How did you fall this far?
How did I fall this far?
Regret is, after all, like a sharp blade at times—eating into flesh, cutting into bone and drilling into marrow.
It ruthlessly reminds him of how times were much better back then, much simpler, and if Jiang Xichen had known this is how it will all end, he would have treasured those memories more, held them dearer, before they all trickled from the gaps between his fingers like fine sand.
"I don't regret it," Jiang Xichen tells himself— lies to himself, because if he gives up this last remaining shred of his sanity to despair, then he will truly have nothing left anymore. "I do not regret choosing this path."
I can't.
Notes:
1. Tri-delicacy dou pi (三鲜豆皮): It is a traditional snack in Wuhan that is made from glutinous rice and bean curd sheet, and stuffed with meat, eggs and shrimps. Back
2. Xiao-di (小弟): Referring to a young boy or man. It is rather common for older shop owners to call others xiao-di or xiao-mei. Back
3. Jiāng-zǎi (江仔): “Zai” here is used as a term of affection, similar to “A-” that Jiang Yanli uses to refer to her brothers. The intonation is different from 降灾 Jiàng zāi (Xue Yang’s sword). Back
4. Huā Zhēn (華蓁): This name is inspired from two different lines from the chinese poem 桃夭 (táo yāo). The poem roughly talks about a girl’s happy moments in life, with a focus on marriage and having a family. You can find out more about the nuances here. Back
Chapter 28: Ramification II
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
<FLASHBACK>
It is months later, during the season of blooming chrysanthemums, that the cultivation world welcomes its first major activity since the Sunshot Campaign: the Phoenix Mountain Hunt.
This was an initiative proposed by the Lanling Jin Sect, aimed at bridging relations between the Great Four Sects and the newly established ones after the war, and the rules are extremely simple—everyone is welcomed, and whoever manages to find and vanquish the most number of prey within an allocated period of time wins.
Such an accessible event naturally drew the rapt attention of all cultivators alike, be it rogues who wanted to make their names known, smaller struggling sects trying to display their skills and recruit more talents, or established and renowned ones in the midst of rebuilding. Not a single individual can afford to pass up on this golden chance, and from this aspect alone, the organiser, Jin Guangyao, can already be said to be extremely shrewd.
“What are you looking at?” Jiang Yanli asks, leaning over with a raised purple sleeve shielding her smiling lips.
Jiang Xichen ignores the way his suffocatingly high collar presses stiffly against his throat while the grand cloak behind him tugs lightly on his shoulder, and tilts his head to whisper back into his sister’s ear.
“Looking for Jin Zixuan. Wei Wuxian made me promise to take care of you and keep the ‘haughty peacock’ as far away from the 'swan' as possible.”
Jiang Yanli gives an exaggerated disapproving shake of her head. “The both of you are fooling around again. Jin-gongzi is here to participate in the hunt and will naturally be down there in the field with all the other contestants. How would he possibly have a chance to approach me?”
“Who knows? Maybe he is so smitten with A-Jie that he can’t help but sneak out halfway in order to meet you?”
“Me? I would be glad if you don’t leave me all alone up here later to sneak out to meet someone.”
Jiang Xichen chuckles. “Why would I ever do that?”
Jiang Yanli does not answer in words. Instead, she simply gestures towards the contestants with a simple glance of her honey brown eyes, and the curious Jiang Xichen immediately follows her gaze to see the grand riding formation of the Gusu Lan Sect.
Although horses are not normally used when cultivators hunt their prey, horsemanship is still one of the indispensable arts for any respectable clan disciple, and in an event of this scale, entering the grounds on horseback will not only be seen as a symbol of respect, but also a way to show off the sect’s grandeur and teachings through ‘discipline’ and ‘aesthetics’.
And of course, the esteemed Lan er-gongzi is the perfect live embodiment of such values.
Even before the ceremony begins, Lan Wanyin is already sitting in an upright posture on his snowy steed. His pose is impeccable—with his back immaculately straight, shoulders relaxed, and not a single hair from his high ponytail out of place. The starched white formal wear of the Gusu Lan Sect is tight on Lan Wanyin's lithe body, a stark contrast against the usual loose and thick Lan robes. A looped belt holding up Sandu cinches Lan Wanyin’s figure further, accentuating the soft curve of the Lan cultivator's figure from his nape right down to his trim waist.
Jiang Xichen swallows dryly, fingers tightening around his teacup.
A soft amused chuckle sounds beside him, but before Jiang Xichen is able to turn his attention back to his sister, Jin Guangyao interrupts with an announcement.
"The Gusu Lan Sect’s riding formation enters!"
Following Lan Wangji's lead, Lan Wanyin and the entire Gusu Lan horse-riding formation eases forward all at once.
White robes and forehead ribbons begin fluttering in the breeze, painting the image of lofty deities on a visit to the mortal world. As if on cue, a rain of flowers scatters down from the skies at once, leaving a dancing array of colorful petals swirling down and around the unperturbed Lan er-gongzi.
“A-Huan, you’re staring so intently,” Jiang Yanli mentions gleefully, a teasing glint twinkling at the depths of her eyes. “Tell A-Jie, is the one you like the elder or younger brother?”
A complete and utter sense of disgust settles into the pit of Jiang Xichen’s stomach when his gaze flickers from the ethereal Lan Wanyin to his unimpressive human brick-figure of an elder brother instead.
Jiang Xichen gags. Jiang Yanli laughs.
"The Yunmeng Jiang Sect’s riding formation enters!"
The moment those seven words leave Jin Guangyao’s mouth, Wei Wuxian immediately urges his steed forward with a powerful dig into its sides, bringing it straight into a running gallop. The rest of the Jiang disciples take off after him as well, all of them long since used to Wei Wuxian’s whims, and the formation spreads out to form the motif of an unfurling lotus.
It is nothing like the calm refreshing elegance of the Gusu Lan’s riding formation, but the unyielding intensity of the Yunmeng Jiang Sect’s performance is equally as charming, and another rain of flowers instantly showers down upon the purple-clad cultivators when they draw close to the wall.
Most of the disciples flush at the attention while Wei Wuxian grins, looking as though he is perfectly in his element, and waves his hands up wildly at the tallest watchtower where Jiang Xichen and Jiang Yanli are.
Jiang Xichen returns Wei Wuxian's smile with a brief nod of acknowledgement.
Sect Leader Yao clears his throat.
“Sect Leader Jiang, there is something I have been wondering about since this hunt started. Why are you up here with us old fogeys instead of riding and hunting below with the youngsters? Look, even Sect Leader Lan and Nie are participating."
Jiang Xichen narrows his eyes. He doesn't need the older man to spell it out clearly in words to know that this is a dig at him—because the sentiment that Jiang Xichen is overstepping by being seated up here, is as clear as day.
Even if he and Jin Guangshan are both fundamentally equals as sect leaders, there is still the unspoken societal distinction by age and seniority.
A series of low rumblings run through the crowd then, most of them in agreement with Sect Leader Yao's viewpoint on the matter. They get louder with each statement as well, as though they were simply waiting for someone to voice their opinions first before they join in with their own damning thoughts.
Jiang Yanli places a comforting hand atop her brother’s gloved one. She gives him a small smile before turning to salute the other sect leaders.
“A-Huan has accompanied me up here as per my request. This is my first time participating in a hunt, so I was worried about what it might entail. I will apologise for my thoughtless actions. It must have truly troubled everyone present."
The rest of the guests, whether on Sect Leader Yao's side or otherwise, visibly become nervous upon hearing her words. They had never seen the soft-spoken and demure lady step up and talk in this manner before, and no one knew exactly how hard they should word their responses to her.
Jiang Yanli turns her gaze towards the few outspoken individuals on Sect Leader Yao's side, and they quickly pipe down at once, lowering their heads in fear that they have offended an esteemed guest invited by Jin-furen herself.
Meanwhile, the bootlickers seize the chance to shine.
"Understandably worried! I was not much better than you are now, back during my first hunt, Jiang-guniang!"
"Aiya, now that I think about it. Will there even still be a hunt if Sect Leader Jiang participates? We have all seen his exploits during the Sunshot Campaign. Sect Leader Jiang practically laid waste to entire Wen armies with just a wave of his hand. No one here will stand any chance against him!”
“That’s right! Besides, Sect Leader Nie is only down there because that little Nie brother of his isn't skilled enough to ride a horse! Drawing and painting is all that he ever does, I wouldn't be surprised if he lacks the muscles to even get on the animal! What else can Chifeng-zun do? Stay up here and watch Qinghe Nie Sect become the laughingstock of the cultivation world?"
"Hey, I am sure Nie Huaisang can’t possibly be that terrible. No matter how you look at it, he still has Nie blood flowing through his veins. He would have inherited some of the good traits along with his elder brother."
"His elder half-brother, you mean. Don't forget that Nie Huaisang is from a different mother. Sickly since birth—that's why her son is so cowardly."
"Aiya, but all that doesn't matter. Look, Chifeng-zun is still so close with his younger brother."
"That's precisely my point. Sect Leader Nie’s overprotectiveness is exactly why Nie Huaisang isn't growing up. Just look at Sect Leader Jiang. Who doesn't know he was on such good terms with Wei Wuxian? But the minute he took over the sect leader position, he immediately set up clear boundaries for a superior-subordinate relationship. That's why the Yunmeng Jiang Sect is flourishing!"
The leaders of the smaller sects packed into the back of the watchtower eagerly whisper between themselves, nodding in agreement as they supplement the narrative by weaving in more and more exaggerated details which paint Jiang Xichen into a saint-like figure and the Yunmeng Jiang Sect into the best sect to have ever existed, and both Jiang Xichen and Jin Guangshan’s expression visibly turns colder and grimer with every new passing comment.
“A-Huan,” Jiang Yanli interrupts by giving her brother’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “I am very grateful that you stayed up here with me for the ceremony, but perhaps like what Sect Leader Yao has suggested, you should go join the Hunt as well. You used to look forward to all these annual hunts, right?"
“But…”
“Indeed, Sect Leader Jiang should certainly participate as well,” Jin Guangyao chips in, paying his obeisance with a formal salute. “Our Lanling Jin Sect has arranged well for this event, and the hunting grounds are quite wide. I am sure that this Hunt would still surely serve to be a thrilling experience even for a cultivator of Sect Leader Jiang’s caliber. Besides, Jiang-guniang is an esteemed guest who is personally invited by Jin-furen. As the organiser of this event and a Jin cultivator myself, I will see to it myself that no harm will come upon her.”
Jiang Yanli tightens her hold on Jiang Xichen’s hand purposefully. “Look, A-Huan, even Lianfang-zun is personally vouching for my safety. What more do you have to be worried about? You should go and have fun.”
Jiang Xichen glances at his sister from the corner of his eye, but understands at once that any further attempts to persuade his sister against this will be futile. Jiang Yanli might not be the most outspoken person, but she is the eldest daughter of one of the Great Four Sects after all.
There is no way she would not understand the implications of having Jiang Xichen remain up on this tower with her. Sitting out of the hunt after all the gossip that just happened would only serve to paint him as an arrogant man who does not put any importance in the unspoken rules of seniority and decorum of the cultivation world, and the rebuilding Yunmeng Jiang Sect cannot afford to be seen as a second Qishan Wen.
“Thank you,” Jiang Xichen whispers earnestly to Jin Guangyao when he brushes past the yellow-clothed cultivator.
It might not seem like much to anyone less astute, but Jin Guangyao’s simple explanation was incredibly excellently executed. By stringing together those few sentences alone, he not only coloured Jiang Xichen as an honorable and protective sibling who treasures his family members above superficial glory and titles, but also provided the Jiang Sect Leader with a perfectly feasible reason to join the hunt late.
Seeing through such a well-played move should leave Jiang Xichen in awe, but unfortunately, the latter genuinely cannot find it in himself to be appreciative when he steps across the gates into the hunting grounds.
After all, Jin Guangyao was not joking when he mentioned that the hunting area is teeming with numerous prey.
He can hear the screams of resentment from the ghouls, the closer and shriller shrieks instantly resonating with the weight of his dark core. They call out to each other, as if drawn by a magnetic force, and the demonic qi in Jiang Xichen surges forward, rushing through all his meridians with a numbing cold.
The sect leader barely manages to dart further into Phoenix Mountain, until the noise of the watchtowers are all blocked out by the sounds of nature, before he finally doubles over on unsteady legs and braces his upper body heavily against a thick woody branch.
The wisteria pouch hanging from his waistband feels as though it has gotten much heavier since he stepped into the hunting grounds and Jiang Xichen heaves, his vision blurring and entire body shivering. The coldness sprawls through every inch of his disfigured body hidden under layers of thick robes, reaching deep down into the marrow of his bones. It is akin to branches that have taken root inside his body, flowering and flourishing with each bout of pain he suffers.
How much longer can he last?
How much longer does he need to last?
Jiang Xichen stabilises his shivering body by pressing his sweat-slicked palms atop the dry, wrinkled bark.
Back when he crawled out from Burial Mounds, all that he had on his mind was revenge. He was willing to do anything if it meant that he could rip Wen Chao's flesh from his bones. In fact, giving up his humanity then had seemed so insignificant in comparison to his resolve, because he'd planned on simply disappearing in the aftermath.
However, that same resolve wavered after he ran into Lan Wanyin at the courier station.
When he saw his own bloodied appearance reflected in the pristine man’s clear eyes, when he realised that the concept of revenge alone had blinded him to the point that he became a disgusting monster he could no longer recognise.
To a person he was not proud to become.
"Ge!" the bright-eyed Wei Wuxian had called to him then, joyfully relinquishing the position of sect leader to him in the throes of war, and Jiang Xichen had anchored himself to it immediately. He threw himself into the role desperately and fervently, as though having a faux purpose to work towards would possibly give his current pathetic life a new bloom of meaning.
Yet, when Jiang Xichen finally lifted the shroud of falsities he built around himself and saw past it, what caught his eye was neither an inspiring man nor a magnanimous sect leader, but a despicable and self-centered coward—one that fears change; one that fears failure.
The snapping of a dry twig underfoot sounds from behind Jiang Xichen, interrupting his musings, and the surprised man immediately reaches for Zidian reflexively. He turns, an excuse regarding how he has failed to notice the presence earlier already budding from the tip of his tongue, only for it to promptly fade away when he notices a familiar figure clad in brilliant white step into the clearing.
"Wanyin,” Jiang Xichen greets, surreptitiously wiping the traces of sweat off his forehead before pulling his body upright into a more presentable position. “What brings you out here? Shouldn’t you be in the middle of the hunting grounds where all the prey are?"
Lan Wanyin does not answer at once. Instead, he steps forward slowly, putting one foot before the other until he makes his way right over to the Jiang sect leader. "Our Gusu Lan Sect has had the privilege of assigning many talented archers to this hunt. Even without my participation, I am certain we will still be able to easily win this competition."
Jiang Xichen folds his arms across his chest with a small huff.
“What bold words, Lan er-gongzi. Have you forgotten that archery is primarily Yunmeng Jiang Sect’s forté? Even though our ranks are now filled with much less experienced cultivators, each and every one of them have high aptitudes and have been training diligently everyday. Even if Gusu Lan were to beat us, I don’t think the victory would be an easy one at all.”
Lan Wanyin blinks twice in surprise at Jiang Xichen before his gaze slowly mellows out with a warm, smiling softness.
“I am sure that all of the Yunmeng Jiang disciples will perform admirably, just as their leader would. After all, their sect leader was the one who taught me how to improve my archery."
Jiang Xichen's breath hitches.
The memory of doing just that briefly flits through his mind: the sensation of a younger Lan Wanyin's soft lips brushing across his fingertips, followed by the look of utter glee on the latter’s face when he finally manages to land a bullseye.
Every single moment of that heartwarming memory is akin to a distant memory Jiang Xichen knows he can never hope to return to, yet it is also due to this same reason that it will always remain incredibly precious to him.
"Here, Xichen. I am not sure if this would amount to much, but I heard from Wei-xiong that you have not been feeling well lately."
Jiang Xichen jerks out from his thoughts and peers down at the note Lan Wanyin is holding out to him.
Although he is not nearly as adept as Lan Wanyin or Wei Wuxian at constructing arrays, Jiang Xichen has read enough over the years to know that the basis of the spell comes from the rituals to purify cursed objects which Gusu Lan commonly partakes in. However, this particular array appears to have been modified—by adding and removing strokes to change the spell’s use from drawing resentment energy out of objects into one which accepts and purifies the dark energy poured into it—which is clearly a move too bold for a conservative Lan to attempt.
“Wei Wuxian helped you with this,” Jiang Xichen points out, his voice pressed low and flat to hide its underlying tremor. Against his better judgement, Jiang Xichen allows the paranoia to overwhelm him then, and takes several menacing steps towards the Lan cultivator as a result, forcing the latter to stumble in retreat. “What else did he say? What did he tell you?”
Lan Wanyin presses his lips into a firm, thin line, unanswering.
Jiang Xichen narrows his eyes.
An uncontrollable sense of fear begins swirling inside of him during the long, pregnant pause. It churns his stomach upside-down as the silence drags on, making him grow even more unbearably nauseous with each passing millisecond.
For Wei Wuxian to suggest an array to purify resentment energy…
How much does Wei Wuxian know? Has Wei Wuxian found out about the truth behind his core yet?
If so, what can he say to talk his way out of it?
Does he even need to talk his way out of it?
Shouldn’t his family accept him for who he is now, despite the absolute monster he has become? Isn’t that what a family is supposed to be? Because that is what he would do for his siblings, and what he knows they will do for him—but the slight sliver of possibility that they might not, gives him a spark of irrational fear.
"I apologise if I did anything that overstepped my boundaries. I was the one who approached Wei-xiong to ask about your condition after our brusque parting during the Water Lantern Festival. He did not tell me anything of importance.”
The corners of Jiang Xichen’s lips twitch, curving downwards into a frown.
He lowers his gaze guiltily. "No, I should be the one apologising, Wanyin. I lost my composure for a moment there. I should not have lashed out in an unwarranted outburst like that."
Lan Wanyin swallows dryly in response, his Adam's apple bobbing in time with the short, suppressed breaths he draws. He had clearly not been expecting Jiang Xichen to respond this formally, and the distance it figuratively puts between them gives the slighter man pause.
The Lan cultivator hesitates before reaching out, fingers trembling just as much as his bottom lip quivers with the difficulty of stringing together his thoughts coherently.
"I promised I will help, Xichen. No matter how large the problem is, or how miniscule you think your worries are—we can work something out together."
Only that there is nothing much which can be done anymore.
Jiang Xichen folds the sketch of the array and tucks it into his lapels before turning away without a reply. The royal purple cloak draped over a single shoulder swivels out behind him with the action, creating an unspoken barrier between them which symbolises a non-verbal rejection.
Lan Wanyin allows his outstretched hand to fall back limply to his side.
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
Jiang Yanli is not a fool.
Despite her passive and docile demeanour and general indifference to the circulating rumours about her, she is acutely aware of how the other people view her meager cultivation and mediocre appearance in relation to her status.
What a waste for the Yunmeng Jiang Sect to have a talentless eldest daughter like her, they’d say behind her back whenever they think she can’t hear them. Yet at the same time, they will praise her engagement to Jin Zixuan with approving smiles, labelling it as a perfect match in heaven, although Jiang Yanli had grown up understanding that their true thoughts actually speak otherwise.
Ever since he was born, Jin Zixuan had been the epitome of sublimity, akin to a moon worshiped by stars. With a mark of vermilion on his forehead, along with his elite background, peerless talent and exceptional intelligence, Jin Zixuan was easily loved by almost everybody he met.
Jiang Yanli was no exception.
She adored him since the very first time Jin-furen brought him to Lotus Pier. Back then, the concept of marriage was still extremely vague and hazy to her, but Jiang Yanli had tried her best, making and bringing Jin Zixuan the few dishes her brothers once praised, yet none of them would even make him look her way.
She genuinely tried her best, blindly hoping that it would work out somehow, someday, but deep in her heart, Jiang Yanli had always known that this farce of an engagement will never hold.
She can never be comparable to Jin Zixuan's valour and glamour, and she knew just exactly how much the man disliked her from the very first time they met. She understood exactly how much he was unsatisfied with the engagement, and outraged at his mother for taking the liberty to decide his future for him—and that was exactly why she felt an overwhelming sense of relief when the marital engagement between them was prematurely broken.
Her brother had been immensely guilty for it and apologised to her numerous times after his return from Cloud Recesses to Lotus Pier, which in turn, made Jiang Yanli feel ashamed for the relief she first felt upon hearing the news.
She knows she ought to have been dejected like every other maiden who had their engagement annulled. She knows she should have used the opportunity to give up on Jin Zixuan, yet neither of these came true for her.
Her feelings, just like her resolve and her level of cultivation, are all half-baked.
"It's dead," Jin Zixuan says out of the blue all of a sudden, parting the bushes before them to reveal the carcass of a long snake monster. "The Measuring Snake."
Jiang Yanli holds her head low, her gaze flickering from the snake to the patch of grass beside it as she grips the hems of her sleeves silently.
Jin Zixuan clears his throat. "This is a beast from the Nanman area. When it sees someone, it will straighten itself and compare who is the taller one. If it is taller, it will devour its opponent. But overall, this beast isn't much of a threat. It only looks scary."
Jiang Yanli bites back the few superficial words of false flattery and simply offers the Jin Sect Heir another silent nod before bowing her head once again. The awkwardness between them is stifling, becoming almost tangible with every additional nod Jiang Yanli gives to Jin Zixuan’s dull statements.
“This snake is probably one of the mutants our Lanling Jin Sect procured specially for this hunt. Look, there are scales on it and its fangs are longer than its jaw. Both of these are telltale signs that it is not the usual breed. But you don’t have to worry. None of the prey on this hunt are overly difficult to deal with. At this level, they won’t be able to hurt any of the cultivators from our Lanling Sect at all.”
Jiang Yanli’s voice trembles uneasily. “I think it is for the best if such hunts don’t involve competition and do not hurt anyone.”
Jin Zixuan raises a brow in response to her frivolous statement, obviously displeased with their differing opinions on the matter. “What value are prey who don’t hurt anyone? What value are hunts if they do not involve competition? These hunts are a nice check of our strength and the extent of our cultivation. If you can’t appreciate them for what they are, then why are you even here?”
Her lips quiver.
Although Jin Zixuan might not have outrightly insulted her to her face, his nonchalant words have certainly driven the point home that her lack of appreciation of hunts stems from her low level of cultivation. Her bubbling insecurities from having battled this ongoing issue for over two decades set in all at once, and she turns to leave. “Please excuse me then.”
Jin Zixuan whirls around with a loud yell. “Stop!”
However, Jiang Yanli refuses to turn around.
Jin Zixuan’s complexion shifts between red and white, his expression twisting into an unsightly mess as he catches up to her in just three strides and grabs her hand roughly. “Tell me honestly! Do you genuinely not like watching hunts or do you just not want to be with me?!”
Jiang Yanli wrenches her arm out from Jin Zixuan’s vice-like grip. Unshed tears brim at the corners of her eyes, turning them reddened and adding a hint of delicateness to her features. “Allow me to pose a question back to you then, Jin-gongzi. Why have you asked me to come out here with you?”
She sucks in a sharp breath and wills her tears away before continuing to speak. “If it is regarding the soup incident back at Langya, it is all water under the bridge now. There is no need for Jin-gongzi to feel bad about it any longer.”
The blood in Jin Zixuan rushes to his forehead.
“No need to feel bad?! I have been trying to find a chance to speak with you ever since then but all you’ve been doing is avoiding me! After we finished the battle at Langya, the first thing you did was go back to Yunmeng! Whenever I try to ask around for you, your brothers would always get in the way! Even now, you are… you... What do you take me for?!”
Jiang Yanli cowers at the unbridled rage in Jin Zixuan’s voice. She averts her gaze, raising her hands to shield her face, when a shadow suddenly flashes in between her and Jin Zixuan. In the next moment, the yellow-clad cultivator stumbles several steps backwards from a blow to his chest, and hurriedly swings his sword back in retaliation.
Sparks scatter through the clearing.
“Why is it you again?!”
Wei Wuxian stretches his left arm out to shield Jiang Yanli while pointing Suibian right at Jin Zixuan’s nose. “That should be my statement! Why the fuck are you here? Didn’t I warn you against pestering my shijie back in Langya? Do you want me to serve you another kick to your face?”
Jin Zixuan fends off Wei Wuxian’s slash, the clangs between their weapons shooting off two discernible sword glares up into the sky. “Attacking simply because I’m trying to have a civil conversation with your sister? Are all of you Yunmeng people this rabid and unreasonable?!”
“Are all of you Lanling people this overbearing and suffocating?” Wei Wuxian snarks back, swinging Suibian out in a wide arc to put some more distance between Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan. Unfortunately for him, the latter makes an untimely stagger with his ill footing, and Suibian almost nicks him across the shoulder.
“A-Xian!” Jiang Yanli gasps at once, pulling her brother back and away from the stunned Jin Zixuan. Unfortunately for them, the sword glares from earlier alerted many of the nearby cultivators, causing them to hurry over just in time to witness Wei Wuxian nearly injuring the Jin heir.
“You… You Wei fellow! How dare you attack Zixuan?!” Jin Zixun, the person leading the crowd, stomps over indignantly, drawing his sword. He does not even bother to assess the situation, because he never had a good impression of Wei Wuxian—so naturally the lowly servant’s son had to be the one in the wrong here.
Wei Wuxian gives the whining Jin Zixun a once-over, then scoffs pointedly at him. “Who the fuck are you?”
Jin Zixun pauses in surprise before fuming. A strange sense of indignation flares up inside him, turning his face completely red with anger. “You don’t know who I am?!”
“Am I supposed to know you?” Wei Wuxian folds his arms across his chest. “Sorry but I have always refrained from remembering the names of ugly people.”
Jin Zixun’s impression of Wei Wuxian collapses even further, causing him to feel even more irritated. He stomps forward petulantly, waving his blade, but finds the trajectory of his sword stopped by passive coils of dark mist before he even comes close to landing a hit on Wei Wuxian.
“Jin-gongzi.” A smooth baritone sounds from behind the crowd and the masses hastily part to allow Jiang Xichen to approach the quarrelling trio. “I was not aware that one of my Yunmeng Jiang disciples was also a part of the hunting targets today.”
The Jiang sect leader’s cool amber eyes flicker from the haughty Wei Wuxian to the two Jin cousins, taking in the distressed frown on Jin Zixuan’s face and the look of utter displeasure on Jin Zixun’s. “What has my right-hand man done that warrants such a crowd and degree of animosity?"
Jin Zixun sneers, jabbing an accusatory finger in Wei Wuxian’s direction. “You should ask your lackey yourself! Someone ought to put this presumptuous twat in place for picking a fight with Zixuan out of the blue for absolutely no reason at all!”
“No reason? Your cousin has regarded my shijie with harsh words time and time again. If our Yunmeng Jiang Sect can tolerate this, then we wouldn’t deserve to be called an elite sect! How is it presumptuous?”
“How is it not presumptuous?! You are simply a servant’s son, a lowborn! How dare you speak out of turn and down to us like this!”
“Zixun!" Jin Zixuan hisses immediately, worried that Wei Wuxian would take offense to the derogatory words, yet the latter pointedly chooses to ignore Jin Zixun's egotistical mutterings.
“Jin Zixuan, I have already warned you back at Langya. If you made my shijie cry again, I’ll beat you up until you’re fucking dead! Grab your sword now! Let's fight!"
Jiang Yanli’s grip on her brother tightens, her face paling. “A-Xian!”
Meanwhile, Jiang Xichen steps directly in front of his siblings, planting himself fixedly in between Wei Wuxian and Jin Zixuan. “Let us refrain from choosing violence. This is a hunt after all. All the negative emotions and bloodshed will increase the ferocity of the prey, which is an outcome no one wants.”
“No one wants?” Jin Zixun retorts unnecessarily, butting in where his opinion is not required. “Have you heard what that Wei fellow just said? He threatened Zixuan! The one that chose violence is him! Yet, you choose to twist the facts to paint my cousin in a bad light to side with your lowly subordinate. Tell me, is this the extent of your Yunmeng Jiang's shitty discipline?"
“Zixun! This is none of your business. Stay out of it!” Jin Zixuan gasps, aghast, however, his warning came a moment too late.
All remaining goodwill has already flickered out from Jiang Xichen's eyes as his expression rapidly darkens. When the Jiang sect leader speaks next, his voice is sharp and cold, without any traces of its usual tenderness rounding its corners.
"Jin-gongzi, the situation of my sect's internal affairs should be none of your Lanling Jin's concern. But since you seem to be overly obsessed with the hierarchy of statuses, allow me to remind you that you too, are speaking out of turn to me. Know your place."
A wave of hushed whispers explodes through the masses, some of them uttering words of remorseful pity for the young Jin master while a handful of the others mock him.
Jin Zixun stands amongst this all, the indignant flush upon his countenance deepening into a dark shade of purple with each new word he hears. He’d never felt this ashamed in his entire life before, had never been publicly humiliated like this ever, and the anger bubbling up within him then, brims over and coagulates into cold hatred for Jiang Xichen. Yet, just as Jin Zixun is about to speak up, a bout of gold light glimmers in the sky above them.
A second group of people has arrived.
The one leading them is a middle-aged woman, her posture valiant, steps elegant as she walks over in several quick strides over to Jiang Yanli and takes the cowering woman’s hand gently. “A-Li, what happened? Did that damn little brat of mine bully you again?”
Jiang Yanli shakes her head hastily. “No.”
Unfortunately for Jin Zixuan, Jin-furen knows her son’s personality like the back of her hand, and could guess exactly what went on with just a single look at how he is sheepishly shifting his weight from foot to foot. “Jin Zixuan! Do you have a death wish?! How many times have I told you to rein in your arrogant temper and think twice before speaking? Do you remember what you promised me before I allowed you to take A-Li out here?!”
Jin Zixuan’s face falls. “I–”
Wei Wuxian scoffs. “There is no need to harp on and on about all the empty promises he made. No matter what your son told you earlier, Jin-furen, it will be fine as long as he and my shijie walk separate paths from now on.”
Still enraged from Jiang Xichen’s earlier ridicule but unable to find a chance to get back at him, Jin Zixun immediately jumps at this newly presented opportunity to voice his discontentment. “Wei Wuxian, my aunt is your senior. Speaking like this to her is too impertinent, don’t you think?”
“It was not directed at Jin-furen. Besides, she hasn’t even made a single comment about my way of speaking yet, what the hell are you butting in for?”
Jin Zixun sneers. “It is not only your uncouth manner of speech. Your utter disrespect for Lanling Jin is also another prominent issue. Today, in such an important hunt involving all the sects, you chose to take an entire fifth of the prey. Showing off your abilities to this extent only displays the arrogance and self-centered mindset of your Yunmeng Jiang Sect!”
“A hunt is fair game. If you can’t get more prey than I do, that would just signify a blatant difference in our capabilities. Perhaps you should work on meditation and improving your own cultivation before wasting your saliva trying to pin the blame for your incompetence on others?”
“Incompetence?! Let me get this straight. What your sect is depending on is just a crooked path. You know nothing of the real intricacies of actual cultivation. Besides, the basis of demonic cultivation is yin and the prey here are all also filled with resentment energy. Who is to say that you didn’t use any tricks and schemes to cheat!”
Wei Wuxian’s brow twitches. “You–!”
Jiang Xichen raises his sheathed sword, tapping its side gently against Wei Wuxian’s chest to keep him from lunging over at Jin Zixun and throwing the first punch. “Jin-gongzi. Please conduct yourself with decorum and take your words back. Or was it truly your intention to undermine my sect’s honour?”
“He would never,” Jin Zixuan is quick to deny, but his cousin continues to speak loudly and rudely over him.
“I will never take back the words I said! This is an event organised by our Lanling Jin Sect. If your Yunmeng Jiang Sect cannot even tolerate harsh truths said to your face, what makes you think that our Lanling Jin Sect will condone the complete disrespect you have displayed to us throughout this entire Hunt?!”
Jin-furen glances up as though she had just heard the quarrel that is happening.
“Zixun, that’s enough,” she says in an indifferent tone, but Jin Zixun’s rage has already pushed him far beyond the limits of reason.
“Perhaps this is it? Perhaps your Yunmeng Jiang Sect intends to become the next Qishan Wen? Surely it wouldn’t be too difficult would it, seeing how powerful your sect’s Stygian Tiger Seal is?”
Jin-furen’s brows stiffen, pulling together as she gasps, “Zixun!”
However, the damage is already done.
A chorus of murmurs echoes through the cultivators all around them. The wound from the Sunshot Campaign is still fresh in the front of everybody’s minds after all, and Jin Zixun’s words have only helped them put into perspective the blatant similarities between Qishan Wen and Yunmeng Jiang, between Wen Ruohan and Jiang Xichen.
Two sects that amassed great power in a short period of time.
Two people who are at the pinnacle of their strength.
The onlookers shudder.
Jiang Xichen’s gaze darkens, mellowing out the sharp edges of his resolve with uncertainty. He had predicted that there would come a day when someone would try to drag Yunmeng Jiang’s reputation through the mud by using Qishan Wen as a parallel, but he had never imagined the day would come this soon.
He clenches his hand into a fist, biting down on his tongue to curb his urge to speak back at Jin Zixun because he knows that whatever he says next will only serve to add oil to the fire.
Yet, Jiang Yanli does not share the same sentiments as her brother.
With a newfound resolve tilting her lips down into a thin firm line, Jiang Yanli takes resolute steps forward and plants herself protectively in front of her two younger brothers.
“My brothers are not that sort of people. Please take your words back, Jin-gongzi.”
Jin-furen quickly attempts to reach out to her. “A-Li, don’t intervene in their business.”
However, all Jiang Yanli does in response is give her an apologetic smile before turning her attention back to Jin Zixun once more.
“I know that my cultivation base is weak, and whatever I say now is merely based on my observations during the time I was helping out with food preparation and medical care. However, it is an undeniable fact that both A-Huan and A-Xian have contributed greatly to the Sunshot Campaign by fighting on the frontlines without ever saying so much as a single word of complaint." Jiang Yanli bows to the cultivators present, punctuating her words with a polite salute. "But of course, that is because my brothers were lucky enough not to suffer an untimely injury right before the Sunshot Campaign, unlike Jin-gongzi."
Jin Zixun splutters. Yet Jiang Yanli is not done with him yet.
"In addition, your unfounded accusation that our Yunmeng Jiang Sect has the intention to behave in the same way as Qishan Wen is not only detrimental to our reputation, but also a total disrespect to every single one of our sect members who are still in mourning."
Lotus Pier had once been razed to the ground, the previous sect leader and his wife tortured, and all its one thousand and five hundred disciples mercilessly slain—even if one had not seen the aftermath, they would have certainly at least caught wind of this horrible undoing.
The three sole survivors bonding together to reconstruct Lotus Pier back to its former glory was by no means an easy task, and Jin Zixun's verbal attack insinuating that they are trying to follow the steps of their archenemy now appears to be nothing other than a low blow.
"D-Don't twist my words as you please!" Jin Zixun interjects immediately. Large droplets of sweat bead and trickle down from his oily forehead. "I didn't mean that! Besides, the issue here is not… about Yunmeng Jiang's plausible future intentions but… but with your sect’s Wei Wuxian keeping a fifth of the prey to himself right now!"
Jiang Yanli does not back down. Instead, she seemingly becomes even more ferocious and determined, displaying a side of her that no one in the cultivation world had ever seen before.
"Please pardon my foolishness then, Jin-gongzi, but even if I have not participated in a hunt before, there is one thing I know for sure—in all the hunts that have been organised thus far, I have never heard of a single rule that prohibits someone from hunting too much prey."
The expressions on the audience's faces freeze before they can even set concretely into place.
"If Jin-gongzi insists that A-Xian has broken a rule, then please enlighten me as to which rule that is."
Sect Leader Yao, who'd just arrived on the scene not too long ago, is the first to jump in. "Aiya, Jiang-guniang, that wouldn't exactly be the best way to put it. Although some rules aren't written out in black and white, everyone understands and follows them. We are all here to have a good time, so no matter how skilled a cultivator is, they must still be sure to leave some face for the other participants, right?"
Jiang Yanli turns to him.
"What value are hunts if they do not involve competition? These hunts are a nice check of our strength and the extent of our cultivation—these are the exact words Jin Zixuan told me earlier today. Why is it that this hunt is a competition in the eyes of the heir of the organising Lanling Jin Sect, but when it comes to the perspective of Jin-gongzi and Sect Leader Yao, it morphs into a simple event for cultivators to play nice and have a fun time?"
Sect Leader Yao gapes back at her emptily, his mouth opening and closing several times silently in succession.
"A-Li," Jin-furen quickly interjects with a pacifying tone before the situation can potentially get any worse. "There must be a small miscommunication somewhere. Don't get so worked up, alright?"
"Jin-furen, even if I am a woman who is unable to wield a sword like others, I am still a proud disciple of the Yunmeng Jiang Sect, as well as A-Huan and A-Xian's elder sister. There is no way I will simply stand by and watch as others trample over my sect's honour and verbally humiliate my brothers. Jin-gongzi, please apologise to them."
Jin-furen beckons her nephew over. "Zixun, you heard that?"
Jin Zixun's countenance turns jet-black.
For him to apologise to Jiang Xichen was already pushing at the boundaries his limits, but to think his aunt wants him to bow down to Wei Wuxian too?
How could she bear to ask this of him! Does she not know what his personality is like? He'd much rather die!
As if on cue, three sword glares descend upon the commotion, circling into the clearing to first reveal the Two Jades of Lan, followed shortly after by Jin Guangyao.
"Is something the matter? Why is everyone gathered here?” Jin Guangyao instantly asks upon landing. Yet, just as his feet touch the ground, the repressed anger from Jin-furen boils over and she unleashes a tirade upon him.
“Something the matter? Can’t you see for yourself? Aren’t you supposed to be good at reading the atmosphere?!” Jin-furen narrows her eyes, seething further upon noticing that Jin Guangyao is still donning that same superficially polite smile on his face. “How dare you smile! Such a big thing has happened and you still have the cheek to smile! Just look at the pathetic state of the hunt you organised, you good-for-nothing!”
Jin Guangyao promptly retracts his smile, brows furrowing as though he is at a loss.
Jin Zixun is the next to speak, using the chance to muddle through the matter of apologising. “A fifth of all the prey in the entire Phoenix Mountain is gone. There was already a severe shortage when you only managed to procure five hundred entities for five thousand cultivators to hunt. Now it is even worse! What are we all going to do for the rest of the day then? Stand around and feed mosquitoes?!”
“I…” Jin Guangyao trails off. “I have already asked Hanguang-jun for assistance in expanding the range of the hunting grounds. It will only take at most another hour…”
Knowing that it is no longer suitable for him to yell anything more after Jin Guangyao has cleverly extended the matter to include the Lan Sect Leader as well, Jin Zixun tosses his arrows to the ground and stalks away with a bitter laugh. “The hunt this time is like a farce! It has already lost all fairness. Why should I wait? I quit.”
Jin Guangyao hurries over to try to persuade Jin Zixun before he manages to leave on his sword, while the remaining spectators thin, splitting messily back into their individual cliques. Wei Wuxian and Jiang Xichen stand off to the side, eyeing Jin Zixuan surreptitiously while casting periodic glances back at their sister while she remains behind to speak to Jin-furen.
“A-Li, are you heading back to the watchtowers? If so, I’ll get Zixuan to walk us both back. You can take the opportunity to get closer to him as well.”
Jiang Yanli shakes her head. “That really isn’t necessary.”
Jin-furen waves her hand nonchalantly. “A-Li, ah, A-Li, tell your mother-in-law here honestly. Are you still mad at Zixuan? If so, you can scold that dumb brat of mine however you want to. I can even help you teach him a good lesson.”
“There is no need to,” Jiang Yanli says softly, eyeing Jin Zixuan who is standing some distance away. “Jin-furen, I think he would very much rather stay behind for the hunt. Please do not force him.”
“Force? How could I possibly force him? Zixuan is already a grown adult.”
Jiang Yanli lowers her head in a bow anyway. As she turns to leave, Jin-furen hastily reaches out to grab Jiang Yanli’s hand, blatantly refusing to let her go. Between the pushes and pulls that follow, Jin Zixuan finally plucks up enough courage to run over, shouting loudly, “Jiang-guniang!”
“That’s not it, Jiang-guniang!”
Jiang Yanli pauses mid-motion, turning around. Even Jin Zixun’s group, who is making a fuss on the other side, glances over as well. Then as though on cue, Jin Zixuan skids to a stop, still a distance away from Jiang Yanli.
He draws in a few long and deep breaths, the veins on his forehead protruding slightly as his shoulders begin to tremble.
“That’s not it! It wasn't my mother’s intention at all! She didn’t force me! It was me! It was all me! I was the one who wanted to ask you out!”
Everyone within earshot is instantly shocked into complete silence by Jin Zixuan’s outburst. For a long moment, only the cawing of the birds circling by overhead can be heard.
Jin Zixuan staggers back by several steps once the realisation of what he said catches up to him. His cheeks turn into the color of blood and he stands there gaping blankly for several seconds before turning tail and sprinting away at the speed of light.
Jin-furen shrieks. “You stupid boy! Why are you running away?!”
The middle-aged woman pulls Jiang Yanli towards her, giving her a hearty pat on the shoulder before hastily rising up on her sword along with a handful of other cultivators. “A-Li, let’s continue our conversation later at the watchtower. First, I have to go catch that idiot!”
Wei Wuxian, who has come over to Jiang Yanli’s side amidst the frenzy of events, grimaces in disgust at what he had just witnessed. “What on earth is that darn peacock trying to pull this time round?”
“That is not for you to find out,” Jiang Xichen replies coolly, flicking Wei Wuxian on his forehead. “You still have a hunt to participate in, remember?”
Wei Wuxian purses his lips. “Wouldn’t they need to temporarily suspend it in order to expand the area? I'll have enough time to walk Shijie back to the watchtowers and give the peacock a kick to his smug face!"
“If Jin-furen doesn't give you a kick to your face for your insolence before that, you mean." Jiang Xichen casts a cursory glance across the thinning crowd, noting how a dejected Jin Guangyao is approaching the Two Jades of Lan, presumably to begin their discussions on how to broaden the hunt area. "Look, the Nie Sect can sit out of helping the Jins out because they haven't caught wind of this situation yet, but surely, Yunmeng Jiang can't do the same, can we?"
“But I’d very much rather walk Shijie back! If it's merely a representative you need for this, why don't you go help out instead, Ge?"
Jiang Xichen makes a face.
Wei Wuxian sticks his tongue out.
Jiang Yanli laughs, hiding her smile behind her sleeve. "The two of you really never ever change. Since it has come down to this, then I will help you two make a choice." Jiang Yanli clasps Jiang Xichen’s gloved hand tightly in her own. "The honour of walking me back this time will go to… A-Huan."
Wei Wuxian gasps, aghast. "Shijie!"
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
Lan Wanyin stands stiffly at the edge of the clearing, watching in silence as Jiang Xichen and Jiang Yanli’s silhouettes slowly disappear into the woods. He had considered walking up to Jiang Xichen earlier, but was unable to muster enough courage after the subtle rejection he faced earlier.
He doesn't understand why Jiang Xichen's intentions seem to be always changing, hot at times, then cold.
He'd always thought Jiang Xichen was aware of his feelings and accepted his offered help at Jiangling. Yet now, it seems as if it was all just a misunderstanding.
Was it because his pushiness put Jiang Xichen off?
Or did Jiang Xichen just never truly understand his feelings?
Briefly, the young Lan cultivator ponders about using something similar to Jin Zixuan’s confession—perhaps something as blunt as that might actually work the best—but Lan Wanyin knows that there is absolutely no way he would be able to pull such an embarrassing act off while completely sober.
In fact, just the thought of saying something that shameless is sufficient to make heat rise to his cheeks.
“Didi.”
Lan Wanyin snaps his attention out of his reverie and catches sight of his brother, Wei Wuxian, and Jin Guangyao, all already on their swords and simply staring down at him with their brows raised.
Clearing his throat, Lan Wanyin immediately summons Sandu and leaves after them to help out with the impromptu arrangements for the hunt.
Behind him, the few people left amidst the clearing continue chatting about what had just happened.
“The Yunmeng Jiang Sect’s Wei Wuxian is really quite a character. To think that he’d behave like a hooligan and speak down to his elders without any restraint. The Yunmeng Jiang Sect is truly getting more and more unruly as of late.”
“Ugh, if I may say, the Sect Leader, Jiang Xichen isn’t much better either. He just stood by saying nothing, while his right-hand man and sister spat out such unreasonable words. He’s just letting them do all the dirty work for him while he pretends to be ‘the nice person’.”
“Aiya, you don’t know but that’s just how the Jiang Sect had always been. They were always crass like that. His father, Jiang Fengmian, played the nice guy role too, while his mother, Yu Ziyuan, simply continued brandishing her whip around and lashing out at everyone even after marriage!”
“That reminds me. We were all really fooled by how meek and docile that little missy looked! In the end, she is just another spitfire like her mother. I even genuinely felt bad for the Jin Sect Heir when I heard him confess to her. He’ll be in for a lifetime of torture like Jiang Fengmian did.”
“Who knows? Maybe he’ll be lucky like Jiang Fengmian and die early? I mean, if I had such a tiger wife like Yu Ziyuan, I’d rather die early too.”
“What wife? I tell you, I heard from a reliable informant that Jiang Fengmian was actually killed by his son!”
“His son?! You mean… Jiang Xichen?! You must be kidding! He doesn’t look like someone who’d even hurt a fly…”
“Oh come on, do thieves go around with a brand stamped on their foreheads reading ‘I am a thief’ so you can identify them? Actually, all of these make total sense if you think clearly about it. We have already established that the only people of note who went to Lotus Pier that day were just Wen Chao and Wen Zhuliu, and we all know how pathetic Wen Chao’s level of cultivation actually was. The only threat Jiang Fengmian and Yu Ziyuan could have faced is Wen Zhuliu, but no matter how strong the Core-Melting Hand is, he should not have been stronger than a sect leader and his wife!”
“That… That makes sense actually… Jiang Xichen practically laid waste to entire Wen armies with just a wave of his hand. There is no way Wen Zhuliu would stand any chance against him. But what I can’t comprehend is, if Jiang Xichen really possessed such powers, why did he hide them all this while and allowed the Wens to do as they pleased in Lotus Pier?”
“Simple! There can only be one reason for it! Because his power was incomplete. He still needed a catalyst.”
“Sacrifices. Isn’t that what demonic cultivation is all about? They give human sacrifices in exchange for power. That’s why he performed lingchi on his parents. It was all so their resentment will overflow and give him even more power.”
“How utterly disgusting! Doing that to his parents! Is he even human?"
“Hey, hey, hear me out. I always found it so weird that Jiang Xichen would volunteer to fight on the frontlines during the Sunshot Campaign. But now that I think about this with our fresh perspective, it all makes sense. That man was just harvesting the resentment energy!”
“To get stronger! But why would he need to get stronger? The war is already over, the Qishan Wen Sect is eradicated. Now is the era of peace!”
“You just answered your own question! Because similar to Wen Ruohan, that Jiang Xichen obviously desires to sit at the top of the cultivation world too!”
Notes:
Some Jiang Yanli and Jiang Xichen bonding time because we rarely have them speaking in the chapters!
“A-Jie, the way you stood up for us earlier reminded me a little of that time when we were younger. You carried us all the way back to Lotus Pier. I can still remember how warm and safe I felt."
His sister smiles wistfully. “Well, I certainly can’t pull off the same feat now.”
Jiang Xichen chuckles in response. “Of course.”
Back then Jiang Yanli had been a whole head taller than him.
Jiang Xichen had seen her as a dependable older sister and always followed after her, huddling behind her along with Wei Wuxian. Yet, unbeknownst to him, somewhere along the way both he and Wei Wuxian have grown up quicker, had changed, had become the ones walking in front.
Still, Jiang Yanli remains as the person who knows them best.
“A-Huan,” his sister calls out to him as they draw closer to the watchtower.
She pauses, holding her breath as she meets his eyes. “A-Jie knows that there are things you can’t bring yourself to tell me yet, and I won’t push you for them. But I just want you to know that I will be right here to listen whenever you are ready to share. A-Jie will always be on your side, no matter what.”
Chapter 29: Ramification III
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
<FLASHBACK>
“I can’t believe this! Do they even know what the fuck they are talking about?!” Wei Wuxian seethes, angrily slamming his leg unceremoniously down onto the bench at one of the teahouses on the outskirts of Lanling. The table connected to Wei Wuxian’s seat shakes along with the motion, sending soup spilling over the rim of the bowls.
Jiang Xichen stills his hand mid-air, hovering the end of his chopsticks over a plate of food as he turns to Wei Wuxian with an unamused expression. "Calm down. The rumours we just overheard are not about you."
"I'd rather they be about me!" Wei Wuxian snaps back, clearly getting even more agitated than before.
“If they were about you, you’d definitely be crying and whining to A-Jie right about now,” Jiang Xichen jests, chuckling as he turns to meet Wei Wuxian’s gaze—only to realise that the latter is not even smiling.
“Ge, why are you so nonchalant about this? How can you still remain so calm? Didn’t you hear what they said?! I can’t believe that anyone would even entertain the idea that you’re responsible for Jiang-shushu and Yu-furen’s deaths! Didn't they see how affected you were?!"
Jiang Xichen sighs. “You are kicking up too much of a fuss about this. They are just rumours. No matter how poisonous they might seem at first, rumours are still like a drop of ink into a cup of water. If you leave it alone long enough, the rumour itself will fuse out, and people will move on to other newer and more interesting topics.”
"But–"
"No buts. We are here to attend Lanling Jin's private banquet. If you kick up a fuss now, it will only reflect badly on our Sect."
Wei Wuxian scowls, obviously displeased. "Look, we didn't even come across these rumours before we stepped into Lanling. I'll bet three gold ingots that the one spreading them is the Jin Sect themselves!"
"I wouldn't mind taking you up on your bet, but are you sure you have three gold ingots to lose? From what I recall, it seems that you still owe me a handful of coins for all the wine we've drunk on our journey here?"
Wei Wuxian's jaw drops wide open, his entire body freezing up at the mere mention of his debts.
Jiang Xichen chuckles at the sight.
Truth be told, he isn't all that surprised at the spread of such rumours—he had predicted that something similar would happen since during the Sunshot Campaign, because he had always suspected that soon after Wen Ruohan's downfall, the cultivation world will quickly band together again to ostracise a new person in the disguise of fighting for peace.
He had seen it happening time and time again after all. But unfortunately, knowing and understanding the logic behind everything does not always necessarily correlate with being able to readily accept the consequences, even if said outcomes are already expected.
“Get lost, you wretch!” A loud and crude bellow comes from the front entrance of the teahouse.
There is a shuffle of robes, followed by a wane and tired yet familiar voice from a woman. "I am merely here to seek shelter from the rain. I will be on my way once it lets up."
"Fat hope! Just look at yourself, dressed in utter rags! What do you take my inn for? If you want to take shelter on any part of my property, then you have to pay. If you can't pay then get lost!" The burly owner yells scornfully, shoving his hands out. A telltale thump and wince of pain follow.
Wei Wuxian leaps up to his feet at once, grabbing Suibian which had been haphazardly propped up against the table. "Hey, you there! Is that any way to treat a woman–"
Jiang Xichen unceremoniously yanks Wei Wuxian back down into his seat before the latter is able to get another word out, and turns to the paling owner with a polite smile instead.
"Please pardon my subordinate's harsh words, but that lady you are speaking to is an old friend of mine. Right, Qing-guniang?"
The woman who has her face shrouded under a thick, dark cloak, snaps her head up at once, her ink-coloured eyes wide with surprise.
"Sect Leader Jiang…?"
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
“Qing-jie, you can eat slower, no one will fight with you over the food. Also, my Ge has reserved this room for you for the next few days, so you can take all the time you need to rest and recuperate here.”
After the dust had settled on the Sunshot Campaign, the defeated Qishan Wen Sect had their territory forcibly taken away and shared among the other sects. The Ganquan area was appointed to the Lanling Jin Sect and under their command, the Wen remnants, regardless of the roles they played in the war—were all herded into a detention camp located at a small corner of Qishan. There, they were tasked to perform menial chores such as accruing raw materials to help rebuild the sects they’d previously destroyed.
Needless to say, both Jiang Xichen and Wei Wuxian had expected poor living conditions to come hand-in-hand with such an arrangement. However, they had not anticipated the atrocious level of abuse the Wens survivors were subjected to.
Wen Qing had been one of the proudest and most confident woman they’d ever known, yet now, she has been reduced to a shivering, jittery mess, with her posture slumped and her gaze shifting around the room warily as though she is scared and hiding from someone.
Jiang Xichen pours a new cup of steaming hot tea in complete silence and slides it across the table to Wen Qing.
“Qing-guniang, as much as I would like to help you with your situation in return for the favour at Jiangling, unfortunately, the Yunmeng Jiang Sect is in too much of a perilous situation to lend you any form of direct assistance at the moment. All I can do for you now is provide you with a temporary place where you can stay for the time being. Once the banquet at Koi Tower is over, I will make arrangements to help relocate you to somewhere away from Ganquan."
Wen Qing shakes her head vehemently at the mere passing mention of Ganquan. Her fingers clutched around the teacup turn white. “N-No.”
Wei Wuxian raises a brow. “No?”
“No,” Wei Qing continues in an insistent tone, setting her chopsticks down on the table. “I didn’t leave Ganquan to seek refuge. I came out here to look for A-Ning.”
"Your younger brother, Wen Ning?" Wei Wuxian interjects. "He is missing from the detention camp? But the Lanling Jin Sect has not reported anything of the like."
"Of course they wouldn't! The whole reason A-Ning went missing is because of the Jins themselves! There had been some trouble at our camp with an eight-winged beast and A-Ning volunteered to lead a group of the younger cultivators to investigate. It is only after the matter that I found out A-Ning ran into Jin Zixun and was threatened to carry spirit-attraction flags to become live bait. A-Ning refused and the beast escaped during the tussle. Jin Zixun then took his anger out on them and took them away by force. Even until now, A-Ning's whereabouts are still unknown!"
"I do not mean to doubt your words, Qing-guniang, but you have just mentioned that Jin Zixun took everyone present away by force. If that is the case, where did you get the source of your story from?"
Wen Qing's face falls. "There was a youth who managed to make it back, but his injuries were too severe and I did not succeed in stabilising his condition."
Jiang Xichen gives a low hum under his breath. "So you came here in search of answers directly from the Jins. Did you really think they would answer you honestly?"
Wen Qing falters, her gaze turning cloudy. She stays silent for a long time before finally answering. "I… I don't have a choice. This is my only lead, and A-Ning is the only family member I have left. If I don't do all that I can now, I know I will definitely regret it in the future."
"Don't worry, we will definitely help you, Qing-jie! There aren't that many places a Wen can freely go to right now. I'm sure if we split up to search all of them, we will be able to find Wen Ning in no time, right, Ge?"
"Not likely. We only brought a small handful of disciples along, and too much time is needed for us to gather the rest back in Lotus Pier. Besides, most of our current disciples come from sects destroyed by the Wens. I can't see many of them willingly helping us with this."
"But surely we can't just sit around doing nothing, Ge! Qing-jie aside, Wen Ning himself has saved my life before. Back when I went back to Lotus Pier to find you, I was almost caught by the Wens there. Wen Ning was the one who hid me away from Wen Chao and brought me to Yiling. Not only that, he was also the one who passed Jiang-shushu and Yu-furen’s remains to us.”
Jiang Xichen folds his arms across his chest, refusing to budge on his stance. “Compared to stirring the grass and startling the snake, the fastest solution we have on hand now is to wait. Depending on how we play our cards, we might be able to get the other participating sects to join the search too.”
"But the banquet will only begin in another two days. Wen Ning might not be able to wait that long!"
Wen Qing perks up at the mention of the potential danger her younger brother is facing and her hands begin trembling at once, as though it is taking her all not to just leap to her feet and rush up to Koi Tower right away.
“Even still,” Jiang Xichen interrupts, his tone steadfast and unwavering. “Qing-guniang, please understand that this is for your own sake as well. If you get caught trying to sneak into Koi Tower, not only will you be sent back to Ganquan, but Jin Zixun will also be able to use the time to cover up his tracks. To be able to find your brother, we will need to catch Jin Zixun off-guard.”
Those are mere excuses. You simply don’t wish to endanger your entire sect because of a debt you have to repay.
You pretend you are on a moral high ground, giving advice and telling her to calm down. But at the end of the day, you’re just a hypocrite. Do you remember what you did when you were in the same position as she was? You ran back to Lotus Pier, and because of that, everyone was—
Jiang Xichen’s gaze flickers to Suibian. He remembers how it looked in Wen Chao’s grip, how the fresh crimson blood had trickled down the blade’s length and soaked into the ground.
"I understand how you feel, Qing-guniang. But sometimes, our own impulsiveness can cause our vision to be clouded and result in poor decision making."
Wen Qing immediately shakes her head. "No, I can't possibly sit around and wait. A-Ning… Something must have happened to him. He isn't one to irresponsibly leave us for days without any notice otherwise. He knows that the people in our camp are the elderly and disabled who can't fend for themselves. That's why he volunteered to fend off the beast, because there was no one else who could have done it."
"Ge," Wei Wuxian pitches in as well. "I, too, can vouch for Wen Ning. I know that you don't want to tarnish Yunmeng Jiang’s newly built reputation and standing, but Wen Ning was fully willing to go against his Sect when he saved my life, and in return, I will gladly do the same. I will go and investigate with Qing-jie alone. Anything that happens henceforth will be all borne by myself and has nothing to do with the Yunmeng Jiang Sect."
Jiang Xichen slams his hands down on the table in a sudden burst of triggered anger, his vision swimming. "Ridiculous! Have you considered how much trouble your actions will bring?"
It isn't that Wei Wuxian doesn't know, but he doesn't care. Wei Changze didn't care either, remember? They just do whatever they like, whatever they want, and your family always has to pick up after them.
No matter what you say to him, Wei Wuxian will still help the Wens. You know it, because that’s the kind of person he is, and the kind of person you were.
"You should know better than anyone else that thinking before doing was never my forté, Ge. Wen Ning was ready to put his life on the line to save me. Even if you don't think it is something worth repaying him for, I think differently."
Jiang Xichen clenches his jaw upon hearing Wei Wuxian’s strongly-worded response. The atmosphere around Jiang Xichen tingles eerily at once, and his amber eyes steadily shift into a lighter shade of gold as the accumulating dark thoughts begin to consume him, eating away and twisting his sense of righteousness and reality.
In his mind now, there are no Wens and no Jiangs, but simply him and them—him, and the people against him, and to survive, he will have to cut them all down.
"Enough!" Wen Qing snaps out of the blue, her sudden outburst taking both men by complete surprise, and dissipating the build-up of negative energy in the room. "Wei Wuxian, I appreciate your desire to help, but I have never intended on asking the Yunmeng Jiang Sect for assistance."
Wen Qing turns away from Wei Wuxian.
"Sect Leader Jiang, do you remember? Back in Jiangling, you once asked me if it was worth it. Even if I helped save the injured on the frontlines, I would still be persecuted after the Wens lost the war. As a medic, I made a choice then, and I have never regretted my decision."
“Can you say the same, as a sister?”
The teacup in Wen Qing’s grip cracks.
Jiang Xichen rises to his feet and bends at the waist to offer Wen Qing a low, polite salute in apology before turning to leave the room without another word.
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
That night, the news of an extreme crisis floods the cultivation world. More than fifty sects received missives, summoning their leaders to an emergency meeting at Lanling Jin's Koi Tower immediately.
The entire affair has been conducted with utmost urgency, yet the seating arrangements in the Golden Pavilion seem meticulously planned. Jin Guangshan is in the foremost seat, on an elevated platform overlooking all the other sect leaders, with Jin Guangyao standing beside him. Meanwhile, the rest of the guests are seated on a slightly lower level, divided into rows by their level of fame and importance, with the very first one filled with cultivators on the level of Nie Mingjue, Jiang Xichen, and Lan Wangji.
Lan Wanyin sits right by his brother, and it is only through his peripheral vision that he catches sight of Jiang Xichen, clad in an uncomfortably high-collared attire despite the heated interior of the Golden Pavilion.
The Jiang sect leader is completely silent, with his arms crossed firmly over his chest and his expression unchanging, despite the series of unpleasant murmurings spreading rapidly through the masses.
“I just knew something like this would happen sooner or later.”
“Wasn’t there rumours circulating lately about him killing his own parents? I thought it was false, there wouldn't be smoke without fire, right?"
"Indeed! Looking at how the Jiangs are teaming up with the Wen-dogs now, it can only mean that they had a prior agreement about this. Why else would he care about the people who killed his parents? If it were me I'll tear every last one of them I find from limb to limb!"
Lan Wanyin turns to glare over his shoulder at the gossipping trio, whose voices carry over the loud pitter-patter of the rain outside.
There is no doubt as to what the purpose of this meeting is—to discuss the recent unruliness of the Yunmeng Jiang Sect—but Lan Wanyin refuses to believe in any of the circulating rumours. He had seen first-hand just exactly how deep Jiang Xichen's hatred for Wen Chao ran, so the thought that that same man will ever side with the Wens is simply inconceivable.
Jin Guangyao takes a step forward, bowing to all the sect leaders present. When he speaks, his expression is respectful and tone soft.
"We have received reports that the Yunmeng Jiang Sect stormed Qiongqi Path, harming four inspectors in the process and forcefully taking away around fifty of the remaining Wen Sect members. The Lanling Jin Sect does not wish to jump to conclusions yet and wish to get a full explanation from you for this matter, Sect Leader Jiang.”
Jiang Xichen does not even glance up.
From a bystander’s point of view, the man’s lowered gaze might make him appear as though he is at a loss of words or perturbed by the sudden accusation, but Lan Wanyin has known Jiang Xichen long enough to know that the latter is simply biding his time.
“I don’t know what you expect me to answer to that. Clearly, your Lanling Jin sentries at Qiongqi Path have identified my Yunmeng Jiang disciples. Anything else which I add on after will merely seem like flimsy excuses. All I am able to do at this point is to offer my heartfelt apologies. Rest assured that our Yunmeng Jiang Sect will also duly compensate for the damages incurred.”
Jin Guangshan frowns in deep displeasure. “So you mean to say that your sect has indeed launched an assault? Sect Leader Jiang, initially for your sake, we didn’t intend on making a fuss out of this. However, some of these injured inspectors are from other sects as well. You’d have to answer to them too. I’m sure these other sect leaders and myself included, have a right to find out your reason for trespassing into Qiongqi Path!”
“I sent my right hand man Wei Wuxian and several disciples to find a cultivator by the name of Wen Ning. I heard that the man was sent as a labourer to the area and went missing recently. Since I owe him and his sister, Wen Qing, a debt of gratitude, I could not possibly ignore such news."
Nie Mingjue, who is seated beside Jiang Xichen, immediately eyes him incredulously. “You owe them gratitude? Wasn’t the Qishan Wen Sect the one who caused the Yunmeng Jiang Sect’s annihilation?”
Jiang Xichen turns to him coldly.
“It was for their medical assistance during the battle at Jiangling. Wen Qing and her brother are both medics and have been treating injuries for both friend and foe alike on the battlefield, so I am certain that the Jiang disciples are not the only one on the receiving end of such kindness, or could it be that Chifeng-zun is insinuating something deeper with his statement?”
The room erupts with raucous chattering, with a portion of the sect leaders ascertaining that they have been saved by Wen Qing’s medical skills during the Sunshot Campaign. Unfortunately, this moment of rapport is short-lived when Nie Mingjue speaks next.
“You can say anything you want, but it is also a fact that Wen Qing was one of Wen Ruohan’s most trusted people. Yet she has never once stopped any of the Qishan Wen Sect’s killings. If she chose to respond to her sect's brutality with only silence and indifference when they were causing mayhem, she should not have been so disillusioned as to hope that she can be treated with respect after her sect is wiped out.”
“That’s right! Chifeng-zun is right! How can it be that a high-ranking Wen has never participated? Well, I certainly don’t buy that tale. There can’t possibly be any Wen-dog without a single drop of blood on their hands. It’s probably just that we haven’t found out about her war crimes yet!”
As soon as the Wen Sect’s past cruelties are mentioned, the displeasure within the crowd surges and boils over, and they begin chattering amongst themselves. Seeing this, Jin Guangyao immediately gestures for the servants to carry out chilled slices of fruits to divert the people’s attention from each other.
“Everyone, please calm down. This isn’t the focus of what we are discussing today.” Jin Guangyao then turns back to Jiang Xichen. “Sect Leader Jiang, I understand that you sent men to search for the cultivator named Wen Ning, and it is unfortunate that the young man had already passed from an accidental fall off a cliff. However, how would you explain the injuries sustained by the inspectors as well as the escape of a portion of the Wen cultivators working at Qiongqi Path? Surely neither of those would be tied to your search for Wen Ning?”
Lan Wanyin clenches his jaw, brows knitting together with the sheer restraint needed to keep himself seated instead of lashing out. It is painstakingly obvious to him by this point that the entirety of this emergency meeting is nothing but a farce. There was never anything to be discussed because the aim of the Lanling Jin Sect is not to get Jiang Xichen’s apology or compensation, but to drive him into a corner.
Jiang Xichen hums under his breath. “It appears that I had a little misunderstanding. I thought we were all gathered here to discuss an urgent matter, but it seems that it was a mere ruse to get me here for an impromptu interrogation.”
Jin Guangshan’s face instantly darkens upon hearing this. Meanwhile, Jin Zixun, who had been sitting silently all this while finally gave in to his rashness and perks up. “Sect Leader Jiang! Watch your words! My uncle is your senior!”
“And his so-called seniority would give him the right to twist facts and cover truths?” Jiang Xichen scoffs, shaking his head. “Jin Zixun, you were stationed at Ganquan earlier this year before being transferred to oversee the renovation works at Qiongqi Path. Perhaps you would be more suited to fill everyone present with the atrocities the inspectors have done to the Wen remnants.”
Jin Zixun gasps. “W-What atrocities?”
“For instance, forcing living people to be bait and beating them up whenever they refuse to obey. Does that ring a bell?”
Jin Zixun’s face turns an ugly shade of red. His mouth flops open and close repeatedly, trying but failing to form a sentence. In the end, only angered huffs of “Y-You… You… You…!” manages to leave his mouth.
Jiang Xichen sneers. “I must say: if you can’t even string your words together coherently, then perhaps you do not deserve to speak at all.”
Offended by Jiang Xichen’s sharp comeback, a nameless guest cultivator seated near the back of the Golden Pavilion leaps to his feet at once to join the fray.
“Enough! Every single one of us here knows that the Wen-dogs did all kinds of evil deeds. To arrive at such a fitting and miserable end is only karma for them! This is what we call a tooth for a tooth, an eye for an eye, and our revenge is by letting them taste the fruit that they themselves had sown. What’s wrong with it?!”
Jiang Xichen nods his head in agreement. “You've answered your question yourself. Karma, which means that you should only take revenge on the ones who bite you. Like I said earlier, the cultivators in Wen Ning’s branch are fundamentally medics, and as such, do not have much blood on their hands. Don’t tell me that you find them guilty by association?”
Another person chimes in at once, throwing decorum cleanly out of the window to speak out of turn. “Sect Leader Jiang, the idea that they don’t have much blood on their hands is only from your one-sided words! How can you expect us to believe you if there isn't cold hard evidence to prove your point?”
“Not only that! Back then, when the Wen Sect slaughtered our people, it was thousands of times more cruel than this! They didn’t treat us with justice and morality, so why should we treat any of them with such?”
The corners of Jiang Xichen's lips tilt up into a soft smile. “Then, are you suggesting that since the Wens did all kinds of evil, anyone whose surname is Wen can be humiliated, trampled upon and killed? Then what about all the clans who defected from the Qishan Wen Sect? What about the few sect leaders present who are from clans which used to be under the Wen Sect’s wing?”
Jin Zixun storms his feet on the ground, akin to a petulant child who did not get his way. "U-Utterly ridiculous! This and that are two totally different things! These sect leaders who you've mentioned have sworn their allegiance to us and not Qishan Wen!"
Jiang Xichen remains undaunted. "So what Jin-gongzi is implying is that the solution on hand would simply be to ask Wen Ning's branch to swear their allegiance to me?"
Everyone in the Golden Pavilion falls silent.
There is no way to dispute Jiang Xichen’s statement, yet they all understand that if they allow the man to continue running his mouth as he pleases, the debate will be over before it has even begun—and it is with this uneasiness in mind that they glance at each other shiftily.
Jin Guangshan seizes the opportunity to speak up. "Sect Leader Jiang, things are not this simple, just like how life isn't always solely black and white... These sect leaders were on our side during the Sunshot Campaign and helped us defeat the Wens. On the other hand, the Wens you mentioned… Aiya, no matter who they swear allegiance to at this point, I'm afraid they are already…"
Jiang Xichen narrows his eyes. One of his hands slides down to wrap tightly around the wisteria pouch hanging at his waist. "Please get to the point, Sect Leader Jin."
Jin Guangshan lowers his gaze to the pouch as well, a greedy glint settling in the depths of his eyes. “This is my point: regardless of your previous accomplishments during the Sunshot Campaign, you should know that there is a line which you cannot and shouldn’t cross. If you are adamant about crossing it then…"
“Then the cultivation world will turn against me next?”
Jin Guangshan's visage visibly darkens. Seeing that, Jin Guangyao quickly steps forward.
"Sect Leader Jiang, it was not my father's intention to imply that. It is just that… The times have changed. It is now the era of peace which we have all fought hard and long for, so it becomes mandatory for us to make the correct decisions to uphold the peace from this generation to the next."
“That is right! That is totally right!” Jin Guangshan adds immediately after, clapping his hands together. “Sect Leader Jiang, you are still young, so you might not know the extent of the darkness in the human heart. What we fear is that once the Wens find a way into your Yunmeng Jiang Sect, they will seize the chance to steal a certain object you used during the Sunshot Campaign, and terrorise the cultivation world again.”
Lan Wanyin feels a chill run down his spine.
He knows exactly what the object Jin Guangshan is referring to is—the rumoured Stygian Tiger seal hanging in the wisteria pouch from Jiang Xichen’s waistband, an object which is said to be able to help its user cultivate using dark energy. The prowess of the seal itself was seen by many on the battlefield, where Jiang Xichen had easily and single-handedly controlled a horrifying amount of resentment energy.
Jin Guangshan clears his throat. “I am certain that everyone present will agree that while having such a powerful tool on our side was very reassuring during the Sunshot Campaign, none of us wish to risk having to fight with someone wielding it, right? Imagine just exactly what will happen if there is a Wen that betrays you in the future. I’m sure that is a risk no one here would like to take.”
Mirth dances in the depths of Jiang Xichen’s amber eyes.
“I finally understand your point, Sect Leader Jin. After beating around the bush for so long, what you want is merely for me to make a choice today. If I insist on sheltering the Wens, then I will have to pass the seal to you for safekeeping, and if I decide to leave the Wens under Lanling Jin’s care at Qiongqi Path, you will then find another occasion to ask me for the seal again.”
Jiang Xichen turns to look Jin Guangshan directly in the eye before enunciating his next sentence syllable by syllable, as though speaking to a young child.
“Unfortunately for you, such a seal does not exist.”
Shamed into silence, Jin Guangshan then clenches his hands over the armrest on his chair, his countenance reddening as an immense wave of annoyance and awkwardness washes over him. Taking the opportunity, Jin Zixun and several other sect leaders start protesting once again.
“You’re lying! How is it possible that such a seal does not exist? We have all seen it at work during the Sunshot Campaign. Why don’t you at least think up a better excuse?”
“Just come out and say it aloud: you wish to keep it for yourself!”
“Sect Leader Jin is asking about the seal solely out of concern! He is afraid that the existence of the seal will lead to a disaster. But you… what you are doing now is using your own yardstick to measure someone else's intentions!”
“I’ll have you know that many of us have been worried about the same thing as Sect Leader Jin did. The Yunmeng Jiang Sect has been growing far too strong and large lately, and the disciples are all behaving so arrogantly even on other sects' turf. If I hadn't known that the Qishan Wen Sect had fallen, I would have mistaken your Yunmeng Jiang Sect for them!"
"That is not true," Lan Wanyin interjects sharply, finally reaching his breaking point after watching the masses ruthlessly gang up against Jiang Xichen time and time again. "I have come across a number of Yunmeng Jiang disciples in Gusu and on night-hunts, and none of them have been anything but polite to both fellow cultivators and civilians alike."
The sect leader who Lan Wanyin contradicted folds his arms. A vein begins throbbing at his temple. "B-But that's just your own experience! Lan er-gongzi, it regrets me to say this but your experience isn't representative of everyone else's. Maybe you ran into some kind Yunmeng Jiang disciples, but the ones I met were terrible! Besides, I thought the Gusu Lan Sect was supposed to be on the side of righteousness. Why are you siding with the Wens now?!"
Unkind stares bore into Lan Wanyin from every angle. The white-robed cultivator obstinately tightens his grip around Sandu but refuses to allow himself to falter in the slightest, because while he might not be familiar with the new Yunmeng Jiang disciples, Lan Wanyin knows both Jiang Xichen and Wei Wuxian well, and believes that they will never willingly treat anyone in the manner the masses claim.
“This Wanyin is not siding with anyone or speaking on behalf of the Gusu Lan Sect. However, as the facts stand, we do not have any confirmation on the exact reason as to why the Yunmeng Jiang disciples have harmed the inspectors.”
“Reason? The only reason is of course because they have ulterior motives!"
“But that is simply your conjecture," Lan Wanyin snaps. "The Yunmeng Jiang Sect was the one who suffered the most at the hands of the Wens, and they are also the ones who have been fighting on the frontlines all throughout the Sunshot Campaign. Their efforts are definitely not something to be undermined like this in return."
"Undermined in return?! What about the inspectors then? They have already ascertained that they definitely did not abuse any of the prisoners. The reason why Wen Ning died was because he accidentally slipped and fell from a cliff. The inspectors even helped to take back his corpse and bury him, but just look at what they got in return for their efforts!”
"Indeed! That's why they say no good deed goes unpunished!"
“Lan er-gongzi, please forgive me for being frank but… just because you and Sect Leader Jiang are good friends, doesn't mean that you should cover up his misdeeds like this.”
"Perhaps it's that they aren't just good friends? I heard that they go a long way back. Maybe their relationship is more complicated than that.”
Lan Wanyin frowns at the accusation, his blood running cold down to his marrow.
Someone within the crowd behind him jeers. “What an absurd notion! How can you imply that someone as pristine as the Two Jades of Lan is potentially a… a… a dirty cut-sleeve?!"
"Don't put words in my mouth! I didn't say that, but you also can't deny that regardless of the reason, Lan er-gongzi's heart has certainly grown sideways! Are we just going to–"
A bright flash of light whizzes across the room in the very next second, whipping in a wide arc mere inches above the cultivators' heads. A gust of wind follows directly after, putting out the candles in the room all at once, and plunging it into total darkness.
The only hint of light left in the Golden Pavilion comes from a blazing mix of bright purple lined with crackling black—the spiritual weapon Zidian, in Jiang Xichen's grip—and the air in the Pavilion seemingly grows heavier as Jiang Xichen slowly lifts his head. His usual warm molten amber eyes have shifted into a shade of cold glowing gold, and glints with an unnerving hue of electrifying purple at their corners when he inclines his head to rove his gaze over the trembling crowd.
Lan Wanyin swallows dryly, his fingers twitching around the handful of robes in his grip when Jiang Xichen’s glance trails coolly past him.
"Like I said before, Sect Leader Jin, I do not have the seal you mentioned. Even if you were to keep me here, I am unable to hand over something I do not possess." Jiang Xichen's lips curl back into a condescending smirk when his gaze lands squarely on Jin Guangshan. "It seems that it will be for the best if we postpone today's meeting, don't you agree?"
The tension in the Golden Pavilion is palpable.
Every molecule in the air seems to be charged, heavy and suffocating. No one moves a single muscle; no one says a single word. No one wants to be the next person Jiang Xichen diverts his attention to.
"Come on, Sect Leader Jin. Do not test my patience."
Jin Guangshan cowers pathetically in the face of Jiang Xichen’s threat. Seeing that, Jin Guangyao immediately steps forward, shielding his father from the latter’s piercing gaze.
"Sect Leader Jiang."
Jiang Xichen cocks his head to the side. "Lianfang-zun."
"Sect Leader Jiang, if you wish to leave, there is no one here who will stop you. However, as someone in your position, you should understand the consequences of walking out of this meeting."
Lan Wanyin inhales sharply at the clear implication behind Jin Guangyao’s statement, at the way the man slyly presented Jiang Xichen with two options of which only one option is viable—choose between your sect and the Stygian Tiger seal.
Clenching his fists, Lan Wanyin takes a step forward, his lips already parting with the beginnings of several strongly-worded insults, only for his brother to finally intervene by barring his path with a raised arm. Lan Wangji glances over his shoulder, his expression firmly stating that he has no intentions of allowing Lan Wanyin to intervene with this part of the argument.
Annoyed, Lan Wanyin attempts to take another step forward, but the length of Bichen's icy blue scabbard presses against his chest this time.
“Lianfang-zun, you really aren’t giving me much of a choice here,” Jiang Xichen points out in between chuckles. “Did I not just mention that I have no such seal?”
Jin Guangyao slips on a polite smile, and gestures towards the doors. “Then, please.”
The air in the Golden Pavilion turns even more frigid than before, with only the rumbling of thunder and the sound of falling rain against stone to fill up the deafening silence.
No one makes a move to stop Jiang Xichen from leaving, no one says a single word in opposition, yet Lan Wanyin feels like there are a hundred thousand thoughts being voiced inside his head all at once: from the disbelief that Jiang Xichen would choose the seal over his family, to the heart-crushing realisation of the severity of the split-second decision Jiang Xichen has just made.
What does it mean to choose the seal?
What does it mean to leave his sect?
Bile rises at the back of Lan Wanyin’s throat as he watches Jiang Xichen pivot on his heel, his long purple cloak swishing along the floor in a semicircle behind him. Waves of nauseousness surge through the Lan cultivator with every new step Jiang Xichen takes away from him, away from the Golden Pavilion.
Lan Wanyin doesn’t know what exactly, but he knows Jiang Xichen well enough to be sure that the man will never willingly choose to give up his family.
There has to be a misunderstanding somewhere, something which he is misreading.
“Hey, just look at what the once illustrious Yunmeng Jiang Sect has become with that arrogant Jiang brat at its helm…”
“To think that I once thought the Jiang Sect considered bonds to be important. Even after they spent so much time rebuilding the sect, when push comes to shove… Aiya, I’d say that the saddest victim in this case is Wei Wuxian. The poor orphan deserved so much more than how Jiang Fengmian and Yu Ziyuan have treated him all these years, and now even Jiang Xichen, who Wei Wuxian sees as a brother, has betrayed him.”
“As they say: like father, like son. Besides, wasn’t there that rumour circulating around that claimed Jiang Xichen plotted his parents’ murder? For all you know, maybe it was indeed true!”
There’s no damn way it will be true, you shitheads!—Lan Wanyin wants to yell, wants to lash out and give everyone present a piece of his fucking mind so they’d all wake up and see the actual truth. However, he knows better than anyone else that it will be futile. His prior attempt has proven just as much: his voice alone isn’t loud enough yet, isn’t strong enough to sway the public opinion.
Clenching his teeth, the fuming Lan Wanyin then ducks away and out of the Golden Pavilion before his brother is able to stop him, away from the rioting voices ridiculing Jiang Xichen and out into the rain, which has grown into a raging storm during the duration of the meeting.
In fact, it might very well be the heaviest rainfall Lan Wanyin had seen in a while.
Bright bolts of lightning flash in the sky, splitting it right down the middle with lines of white. Lan Wanyin grimaces and step out from under the shelter of the pavilion, and the raindrops pelting down from above soaks him down to his bones in a matter of seconds, as the man tears his way down the stairs and through the entrance.
He squints into the oppressive darkness enveloping him, and feels despair settling at the pit of his stomach when he realises his lack of visibility due to the rain. He'd taken too long to decide to chase after Jiang Xichen and there is no way he will be able to find him anymore—not without knowing how far and in which direction he has gone, and it is with this thought in mind that Lan Wanyin tightens his hold on Sandu almost determinedly.
No sane cultivator will even consider flying on their sword during a storm like this, but this is the only plausible way he can think of right now.
Narrowing his eyes, Lan Wanyin pushes on the handguard with his thumb, unsheathing Sandu by a fraction. The cool glint from the sword glare glows through the curtain of rain, and he briefly turns at the soft muted sound hooves atop mud.
The glint of the horse’s eyes is the first thing Lan Wanyin catches before a surprised Jiang Xichen reins in his steed with a sharp tug. The horse lets out a long neigh, its front hooves leaping up high into the air before landing back on the muddy ground, and trotting in a half circle around the Lan cultivator.
“Xichen!” Lan Wanyin exclaims, his eyes instantly lighting up with relief, yet Jiang Xichen’s expression does not mirror his own in the slightest.
There is absolutely no hint of relief or any of his usual warmth and tenderness. Jiang Xichen’s gaze is heavy and dark, his eyes devoid of light, his lips unsmiling, and with the glow from Sandu casting shadows which seemingly deepen the hollows of his cheeks, the man appears almost horrifyingly ghastly—as though he is not someone of this world.
Lan Wanyin falters, his breath catching.
Jiang Xichen lifts his gaze from the partially unsheathed Sandu to Lan Wanyin’s face. “I am but a rogue cultivator from now on. It will no longer be appropriate for you to address me as such, Lan er-gongzi."
Lan er-gongzi.
Sandu slips from Lan Wanyin’s numb grip the very moment Jiang Xichen turns away to spur his horse on, skilfully riding across the muddy terrain, and all Lan Wanyin can do is to simply continue standing there, with his gaze lowered to the ground as the silhouette of Jiang Xichen draws further and further away from him once again.
Notes:
“I absolutely refuse to accept the position! Ge, you know me, you know that I am not cut out to be a Sect Leader and neither do I want it."
"I do know that you have never coveted it. However, as things stand now, there is no one more suitable for the role than you, Wei Wuxian."
Wei Wuxian tightens his grip on Suibian in a fit of fury. "There is! There's you! You don't have to leave. Whatever happened at the Golden Pavilion will blow over in a few weeks, or months. All you need to do is to tide over until then. All Yunmeng Jiang needs to do is to hold on until–"
"Until when exactly? How much longer do you want me to hold on for?”
Wei Wuxian does not answer. There is no way he can answer after all.
Letting out a deep exhale, Jiang Xichen then holds his Bell of Clarity out to Wei Wuxian.
This bell is a physical proof that an individual belongs to the Yunmeng Jiang Sect—one which his sister had personally crafted for him after they reclaimed Lotus Pier, and it means something so much more to him than a simple accessory. Yet, it is precisely for these same reasons that he needs to give it away, because it is only by doing so, can he finally and utterly put down his sect duties.
“Let me leave the sect, Wei Wuxian. I will bring the Wens up to Burial Mounds.”
“No way! I didn’t save the Wens for you to take the fall on my behalf! I said I’ll shoulder the blame. I’ll go and tell everyone that it was my idea, that I was the one who wanted to save them and it had nothing to do with you!”
Jiang Xichen chuckles. “But it does. I’d known that no matter what I said, you would’ve still gone to save the Wens, and I knew that the Jins would take the chance to ask for the seal. I knew all of that and still went ahead with this so I will be able to–"
“So you’d be able to leave the sect,” Wei Wuxian finishes the sentence for Jiang Xichen, his fingers shaking as they curl around the bell Jiang Xichen drops into his palm. “For how long have you been thinking about stepping down?”
“Who knows? It’s been a long time. Perhaps a little far too long.”
The encroaching darkness of Burial Mounds is all oppressive, yet Wei Wuxian is completely undaunted as he yells aloud at his brother’s retreating back.
“I’m only taking this for safekeeping, you hear me, Ge? I fully expect you to come back to ask for it from me someday!”
Jiang Xichen turns over his shoulder with a smile, but he doesn’t acknowledge Wei Wuxian’s statement with a verbal response.
After all, he no longer makes promises he cannot keep.
Chapter 30: Ramification IV
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
<FLASHBACK>
"So that is the rumoured Stygian Tiger Seal?"
Jiang Xichen jerks his attention up from the jade pendant he had been meticulously carving line after line of an elaborate array onto, only to slump forward with a relaxed sigh when he discerned that the person at the entrance of the Demon Slaughtering Cave is Wen Qing.
“What seal are you talking about? You, of everyone, should know that it is impossible for such a thing to exist."
“Of course I know that,” Wen Qing retorts sharply, shooting Jiang Xichen an unimpressed look as she strides into the cave and plops her medicinal box down beside him. "Why else do you think I have been coming here everyday for?"
Jiang Xichen audibly groans at the set of acupuncture needles and pack of herbs Wen Qing pulls out.
It has been nearly six months since he'd brought the Wens up to Burial Mounds, six months since he'd thought he will be able to live alone in peace away from all other cultivators, only for Wen Qing to come barging in, insisting that she would treat his debilitating condition as a way to repay him for giving the Wen survivors a new home.
Jiang Xichen had finally agreed after two months of her insistence, in hopes that she would give up in a matter of weeks with his obvious lack of progress, but the physician had a level of tenacity which could rival Wei Wuxian even on the latter's worst days. Acupuncture, detoxifying concoctions, medicinal baths—there is seemingly nothing Wen Qing hasn't thought of, and nothing she wouldn't dare to try.
Yet, even after four months of continuous treatments under her talented hands, the only perceivable improvement is a mere insignificant slowing down of the spread of black veins across Jiang Xichen’s chest and torso.
"The resentment energy in Burial Mounds must be affecting you much more than we initially thought," Wen Qing begins and Jiang Xichen promptly waves his hand nonchalantly at her.
"You're reading too much into this. Although I might not look like I am improving, I definitely feel a lot better after we have set up the runes around Burial Mounds."
The idea of using such runes was suggested by none other than Wei Wuxian, who had just recently invented defensive arrays which he painstakingly etched into the ground all around Lotus Pier. These can be activated at any moment and work by drawing out and using the spiritual energy of the disciples to erect a large dome-like barrier around the sect.
With that as a basis, the new Sect Leader of Yunmeng Jiang had then modified a part of the runes, changing the spells so they would draw in the natural resentment energy residing on Burial Mounds as fuel instead, and that in itself, not only makes the area more habitable for the Wens, but also in turn creates a thick impenetrable wall preventing uninvited guests from entering.
"Do not lie to your physician." Wen Qing shoots him a pointed look. "Those runes are indeed effective for normal people, but your current constitution is a result of the dark core in your chest and has nothing to do with the amount of demonic energy in the air."
Jiang Xichen chuckles at Wen Qing's exasperated expression. Next, he raises the jade token he was carving on, waving it at her. "And that is precisely why I have been spending the past few months making this. This array purifies dark energy."
Wen Qing rolls her eyes. "I don't think you understand the implication that we are racing against time here. Unlike the usual intangible golden core, your dark core has a physical form, and if it gets any larger, it will press against your internal organs and cause irreparable damage.”
Jiang Xichen shrugs. “I’m sure you can imagine that it isn’t very easy to sculpt into jade when your hands are constantly shaking.”
Wen Qing eyes the jugs of liquor left haphazardly on the ground with absolute disdain when the man leans down to slide the jade pendant into the wisteria pouch.
“From the alcohol?”
"Cut me some slack. It gets a little too noisy at times."
"Noisy…?"
Jiang Xichen’s fingers pause just short of tying the last knot to secure the pouch onto his waistband, when the meaning behind his unintended slip-up sinks in. He holds the stagnant position for a moment longer, before finally pulling back into an upright position with a forced smile on his lips.
"Yes. Wei Wuxian has been coming here nearly daily although I've been warning him against it. See, you can even hear him playing with Wen Yuan right as we speak."
As though on cue, Wei Wuxian bursts into the Demon Slaughtering Cave, with a giggling toddler clinging tightly to his thigh. "Ge! I've been looking everywhere for you!"
Wen Yuan immediately jumps out of his skin in a mix of fear and surprise upon spotting Jiang Xichen, and ducks nervously behind Wei Wuxian, only to incline his head to peer around at Jiang Xichen. Curiosity lights up in the child's eyes, alongside an obvious trace of discomfort.
It is a hint of uneasiness and hesitance which stems from Wen Yuan's unfamiliarity with Jiang Xichen, because other than the very first night when he had practically shepherded the Wens into Burial Mounds, the man had barely even left the cave, let alone attempted to interact with any of the Wens.
So it is completely reasonable that Wen Yuan has his guard up around Jiang Xichen—because the man before him, clad in coarse fabric robes so dark he seemingly melds in together with the inky shadows of the cave, would be nothing more than a scary stranger he should not trust.
"Wei Wuxian!" Wen Qing thunders, breaking the acute silence when she storms angrily up to the man and tugs him by the earlobe. "How many times do you need me to remind you before you can finally understand that you should not be barging in here when I am administering treatment!"
"Ow. Ow ow ow! Hold up… Hold up, Qing-jie! You can't blame me for this at all! When I went to your home to pay respects to Wen Ning, Granny Wen told me you were planning to come up here. So what else was I supposed to do? Wait? Unthinkable!"
"The unthinkable one is you! It is one thing if you decide to come up alone but why on earth did you bring a kid up here too? What if A-Yuan saw blood and it gives him nightmares?!"
"What utter nonsense," Wei Wuxian tuts, wagging a forefinger in front of Wen Qing's face. "There is no way lil' A-Yuan is this weak. Besides, he is someone who will continue your legacy as a medic, Qing-jie. In fact, I'll go even as far as to say, A-Yuan needs this early exposure to thrive— Ouch!"
Wei Wuxian reels backwards, wincing in pain while rubbing the spot where Wen Qing had twisted his finger.
"Aiyo, Qing-jie, if you have anything to say, then just say it out loud. Don't resort to violence at every turn. What if A-Yuan sees it and gets nightmares?"
"Wei Wuxian, you–!"
"Enough, the both of you," Jiang Xichen interrupts at long last with a lengthy sigh. He turns to Wei Wuxian. "I told you not to come up here anymore unless you have something you need, right? What if someone from another sect saw you?"
"Aiya, if that's your only concern then you can relax, Ge. No one will pay any attention to me coming in or staying away, when the gossip about Lan-xiong coming by everyday to stand outside the Burial Mounds is spreading through the cultivation world like wildfire right now!"
Jiang Xichen's breath hitches.
Wei Wuxian smirks, raising the pitch of his voice to replicate the tone of the gossipping mobs. "Look at him standing out there regardless of rain or shine. Do you think the rumours about him liking the Yiling Patriarch is true?"
Jiang Xichen rolls his eyes. "Since when have you gotten this good at voice acting? Are you planning to apply to an opera troupe next?"
Wei Wuxian immediately puts a hand up to cup his cheek while twisting his waist to jut his hips out to the side. "Oh, perhaps~ Say, Ge, do you think a masculine or feminine role will suit a face like mine better?"
Jiang Xichen shoots him an unamused look, folding his arms across his chest with a visible reluctance to play along.
Wei Wuxian gives in with an exaggerated pout. "Alright, alright, fine, I'll stop. I came by today to extend an important invitation to you. Shijie is getting married."
A-Jie is getting married.
An ache gnaws deep within Jiang Xichen's chest.
It is a piece of news that brings him utmost happiness, yet it is also tinged with an incredible amount of sadness at the same time, because he knows this is the most important once-in-a-lifetime event for his sister—one where she would definitely want him to be a part of and one where he desperately wants to be a part of, but alas, he can't.
"When is it?" His voice sounds strangled.
"Next month."
"To Jin Zixuan?"
"To Jin Zixuan."
It takes a long time before Jiang Xichen finally manages to gather enough strength to let out a heartfelt smile. "Help me relay my congratulations and well-wishes to A-Jie."
Wei Wuxian grimaces. "You should go tell Shijie that yourself."
"You know very well why I can't do that." Jiang Xichen's voice is tired, his tone resigned. "It has only been six months. The reputation of the notorious Yiling Patriarch is still vivid in everyone's minds. My attendance will only sully the mood at the wedding and put everyone on edge."
Wei Wuxian falls silent in the face of Jiang Xichen’s refusal. Initially, he furrows his brows, as though he is piecing together something to reply. However, his expression quickly clears in the next moment, and Wei Wuxian shakes his head with a lengthy sigh.
“I can’t believe I lost the bet. Shijie was sure you’d definitely not want to attend, but I thought I would be able to persuade you.”
Jiang Xichen averts his gaze.
"In either case, Shijie was certain you would refuse to attend, but she still wanted to show you her wedding robes, so she was very insistent on coming along with me today."
Jiang Xichen jerks upright at once, his eyes wide and face pale. Once standing, he stumbles slightly, swaying giddily on his feet. "A-Jie is here…?"
"Well, not exactly here. I had her wait at an inn nearby. She wanted to borrow their kitchen to prepare her lotus root and pork rib soup for everyone on Burial Mounds, so I came up here to get a tally of the number of Wens from Qing-jie.”
Wen Qing blinks twice, flustered by Jiang Yanli’s generosity. “For everyone? No, that’s far too much more than what we can accept. Not only did your sect provide us with a place to stay but also with monthly rations—”
Jiang Xichen glances around at the sorry state of his current abode upon the mention of rations, and immediately feels a powerful sense of embarrassment overpower him. Although he had left the sect half a year ago, the poor condition of the soil on Burial Mounds coupled with the perpetual state of darkness enveloping the area meant that it was virtually impossible to have sustainable harvests. All the Wens were going cold and hungry, and at such a time, it was Wen Qing who took up the helm to soothe them as well as Wei Wuxian who stepped forth with the proposal of secretly sending food and taels up from Yunmeng to Yiling.
Meanwhile, all Jiang Xichen had done in these months is hole himself up in this cave without a single care about what is happening in the outside world. He had eagerly wanted to find a way to finally tame the voices in his head, yet the only viable solutions he’d discovered was either to dispel the resentment energy fully from his body, which was impossible to accomplish, or to indulge in liquor like he had back in Lotus Pier.
Once inebriated enough, everything would seem small and insignificant after all: be it his worries, misgivings, or the fact that his method of coping now is exactly the same as it had been back then—that even though his location had changed, his situation had barely improved, and perhaps leaving in itself might have been a wrong decision on his part.
“Don’t… Don’t bring A-Jie up here. There’s too much resentment energy, it wouldn’t be suitable…”
Don’t let my sister see how I have been living, I don’t want to worry her—his unspoken words ring out as clear as day amidst the silence enveloping the four of them. The tension spikes suddenly, turning palpable and suffocating.
Wen Yuan bursts into tears.
Wen Qing hurriedly scoops the crying child into her arms, rocking the toddler in her arms to soothe him.
Jiang Xichen clears his throat and turns his back to them. He sucks in a deep breath, taking the time to run his clammy hands down the front of his robes, before tugging on the lapels of the cheap, coarse material to straighten them.
“Wait outside, give me a moment to get ready.”
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
“A-Huan, you’re here.”
Jiang Xichen raises his head upon hearing the voice. There is a woman standing in the middle of the courtyard, dressed in a long black cloak as well as a veiled bamboo hat which obscures her face. The thick layers swaddling Jiang Yanli makes her look like a different person, but Jiang Xichen will always be able to recognise the figure and poise of his dearest sister.
Gingerly, he takes a few steps forward, closer to her.
“A-Jie,” he calls then, hoarsely, a lump forming in his throat along with the swell of emotions overwhelming him.
Jiang Yanli makes her way over as well, cupping his cheeks lightly in her hands while tracing the pads of her thumbs across his cheekbones. “You’ve gotten so much thinner. Have you been eating properly?”
Jiang Xichen nods his head after a short moment of hesitation.
He raises a hand next, wrapping his fingers around hers and holding them tightly. Her hand seems so terribly small in comparison to his—so weak and fragile, as though it would shatter if he exerted even a little more pressure, and the realisation makes a hint of warmth rise to his eyes.
He had once promised his mother that he would protect his sister, but now, this has become yet another vow he wouldn't be able to uphold.
Jiang Yanli withdraws her hand from his.
“I’ll… I’ll be married soon, A-Huan. I know it isn’t… wouldn’t be convenient for you to attend, but I really wanted to show you how I will look on the day itself.” Flushing shyly, Jiang Yanli then takes off her hat and cloak, revealing the refined scarlet wedding robes underneath. It matches perfectly with the bright shade of blush applied on her cheeks, and she spreads out her arms while doing a slow spin to show off her robes. “So… How does it look?”
Jiang Xichen wills his tears away and swallows to curb the shakiness of his voice. “Amazing. No matter what A-Jie wears, you will always look amazing.”
Wei Wuxian, who had been staying silent and watching at a distance, chimes in as well. “Aha! Didn’t I tell you that already? It really does look good, Shijie. Now that Ge agrees as well, you have no reason not to believe it!”
“It doesn’t count if you two say it,” Jiang Yanli answers earnestly, shaking her head. “I can't take your word for it. The both of you like to humour me a little too much at times.”
“Shijie… You don’t believe me and you don’t believe Ge either. Don’t tell me you’ll only believe it when a certain someone tells you so?”
Hearing this, Jiang Yanli’s face immediately grows even redder, the shade of deep scarlet rising all the way up to her earlobes.
Wei Wuxian erupts into peals of raucous laughter.
Embarrassed, Jiang Yanli quickly attempts to switch the subject by pulling her brother over to the table in the courtyard. “A-Huan, here. Help me think of a courtesy name.”
“What courtesy name?”
“That’s obviously the courtesy name of Shijie’s unborn son, your nephew!"
Jiang Xichen blinks, glancing down at the prepared calligraphy brush and paper on the table. The marriage hasn’t even happened yet and they are already thinking of a courtesy name? And he is supposed to be the one who names the child?
He, who’d defected from the sect and left the family?
"A-Jie, this wouldn't be too suitable, would it? The one who picks the name should be either you or Jin Zixuan, and after discussing it at length with the Lanling Jin Sect."
Jiang Yanli shakes her head. "I want you to pick it, A-Huan."
“Well then, if I recall correctly, the next generation of the Lanling Jin Sect should be named ‘Ru’. In that case…” Jiang Xichen lifts up the brush under his siblings’ scrutiny and writes three characters flawlessly onto the paper: Jin Ruyuan.1
“Ruyuan?!” Wei Wuxian echoes with a raised brow as he peers over Jiang Xichen’s shoulder. “Isn’t that a female’s name?”
“Indeed. No matter how I think about the matter, it still seems terribly inappropriate for me to be the one naming the next heir to the Lanling Jin Sect. So, if the firstborn happens to be a girl, then let’s call her Jin Ruyuan.”
Jiang Yanli’s face falls. “But I…”
Wei Wuxian rolls his eyes. “Aiya, what’s the point of being this indecisive? Shijie told you to name her child, so you can just be bold and name him anything you want. Heir or not, the kid is Shijie’s anyway, so it isn’t like those old fogeys can have a say in the matter unless Shijie allows them to. We can even call him Ruhong, Ruqing or Rulan2 if we wanted to!"
Jiang Xichen hums under his breath. “Jin Rulan. Orchids are one of the four gentlemen of flowers and represent an exquisite taste, elegant beauty, perfect love and unity. If A-Jie likes it, we can go with that too.”
Jiang Yanli’s face brightens up. “It is a beautiful name.”
“No, no, no! I just said it as a joke! The Lan in Jin Rulan has the exact same intonation as the Lan from Gusu Lan! Why should a descendant from the Lanling Jin Sect and the Yunmeng Jiang Sect be named like someone from the Lan Sect?! This will destroy all sense of balance!"
Jiang Xichen shrugs. "A-Jie likes the name. It's too late for you to protest now. As I see it, the only solution for this problem is for you to marry someone from the Lan Sect and name your child after the Jiang or Jin Sect."
"Ridiculous! Who is there for me to marry in the Lan Sect?"
Jiang Yanli tilts her head, pretending to be deep in thought. "Sect Leader Lan? Your position is equal to his now, it will be a very suitable marriage."
Wei Wuxian groans. "Shijie… Have you seen the way he glared at me during the Sect Leader Conference the other day? If I had to live with a Lan for the rest of my life, I'd rather stick to Lan-xiong. At least he has a cute side…"
Jiang Xichen flicks the whining man on his forehead. "Enough daydreaming. Even if you want him, he might not want you."
"Tsk tsk tsk, that's where you're wrong, Ge!" Wei Wuxian waggles his brows. "We've made a heartfelt oath to each other that if neither of us finds a partner by the time I turn thirty, then we will get married! So if there's anyone who wants him, they'd better act fast~"
"Before you turn thirty? Then you'd better start worrying about yourself. Seeing the stark contrast in your qualities and reputation, I guess it is safe to presume that you are the only one who will be left on the shelf."
Wei Wuxian gapes exaggeratedly, horrified by the roast.
Jiang Yanli hurries to speak. “That’s enough fooling around. I made some soup earlier. A-Xian, could you ladle out three bowls, and pour the rest into a jar for A-Huan to bring back with him afterwards?"
To Jiang Xichen’s utmost surprise, Wei Wuxian doesn’t put up a fight this time. In fact, he practically skips into the kitchen, and Jiang Xichen finds himself feeling oddly nervous and out of place in the thundering silence that ensues.
It is painfully obvious that his sister has something to talk to him about—but what exactly is it?
Jiang Xichen wrings his hands together nervously, subconsciously twisting Zidian around on his finger.
Jiang Yanli clears her throat. "A-Huan, do you remember when A-Jie told you I will always be on your side, no matter what?"
Jiang Xichen pauses mid-action, his blood running cold.
She places her hand over his. “That has not changed and will never change. No matter whether I am a Jiang or a Jin, no matter whether you are the Sect Leader Jiang or the Yiling Patriarch, you will always be my brother and I will always be on your side. A-Jie wants you to remember this."
"I…"
"The doors of Lotus Pier will also always, always remain open for you, regardless of what the others say or what rumours are circulating. It has and will always be your home—our home."
"A-Jie, I… Thank you."
As if he was waiting for the right moment, Wei Wuxian saunters out from the kitchen then, holding up a tray with three bowls of soup and a large porcelain jar, before setting down the largest portion in front of Jiang Xichen with a smug grin. "Eat up!"
Jiang Xichen glances down at the state of his serving, and immediately makes a face. After all, it is filled with so many huge chunks of meat that he can barely even see any traces of soup.
“Well, you can’t blame me,” Wei Wuxian says before anyone can even call him out on it. “Both of you should know better than anyone else that I am not good with such chores. But what’s done is done. If you want to get more soup, you will have no choice but to finish all that meat, then get a new bowl.”
Jiang Xichen turns his attention away from the smirking Wei Wuxian back down to the bowl once more. It is clear that Wei Wuxian is simply doing this in an attempt to get him to eat more—but how terrible must he look for Wei Wuxian, of all people, to worry about him?
And if even Wei Wuxian is worried about him, then how much more is he making his sister worry then?
Jiang Xichen picks up his spoon.
It will be a long time before he will be able to see her again. He doesn’t want her memory of this short visit to be tinged with sadness. He wants her to get married without a single care in the world, wants her to smile the happiest and the brightest from now on, and it is with that thought in mind that Jiang Xichen pulls his lips back into a wide grin, into the way he used to smile some years ago, into the way he no longer smiles anymore.
"Oh? Then you'd better start ladling out three more bowls for me then, Wei Wuxian."
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
Jiang Xichen does not return to Burial Mounds directly after parting ways with Wei Wuxian and his sister.
He did initially have half a mind to get back at once, but that urge quickly faded away the moment he stepped out of the compounds of the nondescript inn on the outskirts of Yiling and spotted the beautiful range of sunset hues stretched out across the sky right before his eyes.
He doesn’t remember how long it has been since he had seen a glimpse of the sky like this.
It is always dark and gloomy atop the Burial Mounds, with a thick veil of resentment energy shrouding most of the visibility they have of the scenery and natural light. Jiang Xichen hadn't minded it much since he was holed up in his cave most of the time. However, seeing the sunset like this really helps put into perspective just exactly how much he'd given up.
Maybe it was the wrong decision for him to run away from his burdens and responsibilities the way he did.
None of the Wens had protested, but are they truly grateful to him for stepping in? Their living conditions here are barely better than in Ganquan and Qiongqi Path, if not worse.
And what about Wen Yuan then?
He has just turned five recently. If this goes on, the only memory the poor toddler will have of his childhood will be of Burial Mounds. Even if the Wens are alright with it, even if Wen Qing herself is okay with it, is he fine with robbing a child's future away like that?
"Mister! Mister, would you like to get a stick of tanghulu?"
Jiang Xichen glances down at the young trembling girl before him. She is holding five sticks of the sweet treat.
"My mother is not feeling well so I am selling these on her behalf. Mister, would you please buy one from me?"
He stoops down, lowering himself to meet her height. "I'll take two then. I happen to know a friend who likes these and a child around your age who will probably love it too. How much is…" Jiang Xichen trails off, his face flushing. "Sorry, I didn't bring enough coins with me."
Her face falls, eyes wet and brimming over with tears as she begins bawling at once.
Her cries—mixed with her tiredness and worry for her mother's health, as well as the disappointment of Jiang Xichen changing his mind suddenly—sound so incredibly heart-wrenching that it immediately attracts a small crowd to the scene.
Jiang Xichen remains crouched down in the middle of the encirclement of the curious passer-bys, at a complete loss of what he should do next. Without money or anything else of particular value on his person, there is no plausible way he can appease or comfort her.
"Listen, I…"
"I will buy all five on his behalf."
Jiang Xichen freezes instantly, his eyes growing wide and unblinking. He recognises that voice. He can never and will never mistake it, even though it had been six months since the last time he'd met him.
—Lan Wanyin.
Jiang Xichen’s chest throbs with a flurry of unspoken emotions. Words he has not said yet, words that he cannot bring himself to say, and words which he knows he will never ever be able to say.
"Xichen. It has been a long time."
Lan Wanyin’s voice sounds closer this time, as though it is coming from right behind him, and Jiang Xichen’s breath catches in his throat.
"Lan er-gongzi," he greets when he musters enough courage and resolve to turn around. "What brings someone of your standing to Yiling?"
Hesitation flickers briefly across Lan Wanyin’s steel blue eyes, but he quickly regains his composure.
“I came here to play for you the song that I have composed. Do you remember? You once told me that the piece itself could simply be a representation of my hopes as well as a distant dream that I wish would come true someday. It took me quite a while to understand what you meant and a longer period of time after to organise my thoughts and give them a form, but I think I am finally ready to share it with you.”
Jiang Xichen lowers his gaze to the sticks of tanghulu Lan Wanyin is holding, then trails it back up to the qin strapped across the slighter man's shoulder. It isn't often that a cultivator would be physically carrying his instrument around in this manner, and seeing Lan Wanyin doing so now really drives it home that the man has probably been waiting at Yiling everyday, just like what Wei Wuxian had hinted at earlier—waiting to run into him.
He sucks in a grounding breath.
Did Lan Wanyin not know that Wei Wuxian had been sneaking into Burial Mounds? If so, then does it mean that he was simply waiting around all these weeks without knowing if Jiang Xichen met with anyone, if he would even be willing to meet anyone?
Jiang Xichen feels a twinge in his heart, a deep ache which blooms within him. It fills him with the need to reach up to Lan Wanyin’s cheek, fills him with the desire to draw the latter into his arms, but he resists the urge and pivots around on his heel instead.
“I have to head back to the Burial Mounds now, but if you'd like, you can come along."
Lan Wanyin blinks several times in succession, shocked at the unexpected invitation. “Is that… Would that be alright…?”
“Of course. You can’t possibly perform your song while holding on to all of that right? Besides, even though I may be like this now, I still remember the importance of showing gratitude to someone for their help. There isn’t much I can offer, but at the very least, I can spare a drink or two.”
Lan Wanyin’s gaze softens fractionally.
Together, they then make their way up to the edge of Burial Mounds and step through the dense haze of resentment energy shrouding one of the runes. The bright glare of the setting sun outside shifts into one of bleak darkness almost at once, and the two of them have to pause for a short moment to allow their eyes some time to adjust.
Lan Wanyin is the first to adapt, blinking through the blurriness until he makes out a few round tree stumps at the end of the mountain path. There is a large one in the middle of several smaller stumps, fashioning the space into a makeshift outdoor dining area.
A red-clothed woman sits on one of them, sewing away despite the dim lighting. To her right, two groups of people are slogging away, with one group armed with hammers and saws in their hands as they climb up and down to repair the roofs of their shacks, while the rest are busy turning over the soil in the fields nearby.
Jiang Xichen gestures to them. “We are trying to farm here. Nothing much really grows without direct sunlight but Wen Qing was adamant that we needed to find a way to plant crops for sustainability, and I figured it would be better to have something for the people to spend their free time on. Besides, it would be a waste to leave all this free fertiliser alone, wouldn’t it?”
Lan Wanyin briefly glances down at the dirt ground, noticing the questionable lumps and clumps lining the path. The air smells a tad stale too, bringing with it a hint of decay.
“The rumours all say that the Yiling Patriarch gathered some leftover forces and crowned himself as king of the hill, but as far as I can see, the only people here are the old and weak, the women and children.”
Jiang Xichen waves his hand nonchalantly at the Lan cultivator's frown. “If you're thinking of clearing things up for me, don't bother. Rumours will always be rumours. People will only believe in things which will suit their fancy. If you stand up for me now, it will smear your pristine reputation."
"My reputation is nothing compared to the truth."
Jiang Xichen laughs bitterly. "Haven't you tried the same at the Golden Pavilion. Do you not recall how that turned out?"
It is a low blow, Jiang Xichen realises, even before he catches sight of the way Lan Wanyin’s brows scrunch up further. The latter has always been rather idealistic after all. Knowing the truth yet being unable to do anything about it must be rather unbearable.
“Jiang Xichen! What took you so long?!” Wen Qing tuts, her bold voice carries across Burial Mounds as she stomps crossly over. However, she promptly changes her tone upon noticing the white-robed figure to Jiang Xichen’s right. "You brought a guest?"
Lan Wanyin bows his head in a formal salute. "Lan Wanyin from the Gusu Lan Sect."
She blinks several times in confusion, looking as though she has something to say before swiftly deciding not to, and simply returns Lan Wanyin’s gesture with a deep obeisance instead. "Wen Qing."
"I have long since heard of Wen-guniang's name and merits."
"I have came across many tales of Lan er-gongzi's exemplary achievements too."
“My achievements pale in comparison to Wen-guniang’s skills. I am forever in your debt for your assistance at Jiangling.”
“Lan er-gongzi is too humble. Treating the injured is merely my duty as a medic.”
Jiang Xichen regards the scene unfolding before him with an amused expression. “Wen Qing, why don’t I ever see you speaking to me with half the amount of deference as you are using right now?”
She snorts. “Perhaps if you were an obedient patient like Lan er-gongzi and would comply with your treatments without complaints?"
Lan Wanyin glances curiously up at them. “Treatments…?”
Jiang Xichen clears his throat. “It's just a terminology we use to refer to our research on resentment energy. But that's enough time spent on this boring topic. I brought soup back to share with everyone."
The Wens instantly stop what they are doing upon hearing the mention of food. They look over at once, unable to curb the stars twinkling in their eyes, however, none of them take a step closer. Jiang Xichen skilfully ignores the palpable buzz of tension in the air as if he hasn’t noticed it, and simply strides up to the makeshift table and places down the jar of soup.
“Wen Qing, help me split this out for everyone."
“Will you not be joining us for dinner?” she asks then, and Jiang Xichen turns to cast a brief glance over his shoulder at the Wens again, catching their expressions.
“Not today, I have already eaten."
Lan Wanyin hurriedly passes Wen Qing the sticks of tanghulu too, before hesitantly following Jiang Xichen without another word. The air seemingly grows chiller with each additional step they take into the deep mountains, but Lan Wanyin finds that the temperature is the only thing which matches his prior expectations of Burial Mounds.
It is difficult to put a finger on it, but he had envisioned life here to be very different.
Firstly, he’d thought Jiang Xichen helped the Wens because he was familiar with the people he’d rescued, but the awkward atmosphere earlier had completely proved otherwise. Secondly, with Burial Mounds’ notorious reputation for its uninhabitability, Lan Wanyin had also presumed that life here would be much more arduous, with talismans pasted everywhere to ward off the dark energy from the Wens, but that too, had winded up being different from his expectations.
So, just how much exactly does he accurately know?
"We are here," Jiang Xichen says, completely oblivious to Lan Wanyin’s inner dilemma as he gestures towards the large cave a little ways ahead of them. The structure sits alone up atop the mountain, far from the rest of the shacks built by the Wens and clearly too out of the way for any of them to visit regularly. In addition, the light emanating from within is far too dim to be seen from a distance, and the resulting darkness shrouding the entrance likely serves as a further deterrence.
Lan Wanyin takes a tentative step forward. “The Demon Slaughtering Cave?”
Jiang Xichen coughs into his hand to stifle a chuckle. “How could you possibly say such a terrible name aloud with a straight face?”
“Did you not come up with the name yourself?”
"Who else can there be?" Jiang Xichen shrugs, countering the question with another as he continues leading Lan Wanyin towards his residence. The latter hesitates, frowning when he picks up the faint scent of herbs the closer they get to the entrance.
He is unable to pinpoint any specific herb from the rest, but instead of putting him at ease, it worries Lan Wanyin, because he can't think of any condition which requires such a huge range of medicine.
"The treatments which Wen-guniang mentioned earlier–" Lan Wanyin begins, but Jiang Xichen has already pulled out of earshot. Hastily, Lan Wanyin then closes the distance between them, chasing after the Yiling Patriarch into the cave.
The first part of the entrance is surprisingly narrow and constricted. However, once he has passed that initial stretch, it opens up into a larger space dimly lit by a single lantern placed on a sizable protruding stone. Several half-finished inventions and loose papers are piled up neatly to its left, while a straw mattress along with a number of empty jugs are strewn haphazardly over on the right.
Old marks line the visible portions of the wall, looking as though they are dug into the stone by repeatedly running the same blunt objects over and over and over again into the same spots.
Scratch marks?
Lan Wanyin takes a step closer to them, curiously tracing around the perimeter of the indentations with his fingertips. Some of the deeper grooves are still spotted with flaking trails of old, oxidised blood.
Jiang Xichen folds his arms.
“Do those marks interest you? Unfortunately, there isn’t a particularly interesting story behind them. They were made by the person who lived in this cave previously. Back then, the Burial Mounds was quite different from how it appears now. Thick coils of resentment energy were everywhere, whispering and poisoning the minds of every living creature it settles upon. To keep his sanity, the man had no other choice but to claw desperately at those walls in almost all his waking moments—day after day after day, for three whole months.”
In the scarce glow from the lantern, it is difficult to ascertain what expression Jiang Xichen has on when he says this, but his voice is soft and subdued, as though he is narrating a story not of his own.
The dark-clothed man chuckles. "Quite a bland tale, isn't it?"
"It is not."
Jiang Xichen inclines his head at Lan Wanyin’s unexpectedly resolute denial, and the hint of good-natured humour dancing in the depths of his amber eyes instantly turns dry and self-deprecating. The sliver of his jovial mood from meeting his sister earlier that day has vapourised.
"Lan er-gongzi’s taste in stories must be rather unique then. I do certainly hope your preference in music would be in no way as eccentric."
An unreadable expression flits across the Lan cultivator's face as he unslings his qin and sets it down on the stone table, before settling in place behind it.3
The first note Lan Wanyin plays is incredibly light and airy, giving the piece an almost whimsical feel when the harmonics weaves in perfectly with the calm and soothing melody created by the next series of notes. It paints the carefree imagery of youth, of sunshine and sweet laughter, before the music shifts with the very first slide of Lan Wanyin’s ring finger.
It glides across the string like a flowing water current, the tone ever-changing as it moves across two hui4, and Jiang Xichen feels his chest swell up with an invoked emotion so intense that he feels as though he is being crushed by it all.
There is no spiritual energy imbued into the song, yet oddly, Jiang Xichen feels as though the music itself is relieving the cold and heavy weight of resentment energy in him. His limbs feel warmer, his chest lighter, and Jiang Xichen tilts his head up to peer at Lan Wanyin.
The younger man looks ethereally picturesque with the flickering warm orange glow of the lantern highlighting his features. His head is cocked to the left, focused on the movements of his hand as he drags the side of his thumb towards the end of the instrument. His fringe sways against his cheek with each motion, spilling across pale skin like ink saturating water, and Jiang Xichen fights off the urge to lean over and tuck it behind the latter's ear.
Lan Wanyin doesn't think he is good at the qin—Jiang Xichen can tell the man's insecurities and nervousness from the way he plucks the strings just a tad too harshly, from the way he gives small sighs of relief in between parts of a song, but more importantly, Jiang Xichen basks in the unique melancholic feeling that only Lan Wanyin's playing can instil in him with every single note.
A representation of his hopes as well as a distant dream that he wishes will come true someday: all of these are clearly conveyed through the writing of the music, through the peaks and dips in the melody itself, and through the way the tune picks up in the middle, turning tumultuous with the picture of war, then quickly mellows out into despondency.
It barrages Jiang Xichen with the acute sense of loss, with the raw helplessness and desperation Lan Wanyin had been feeling all along, with the latter's yearning—tell me more of your worries, allow me to be beside you through thick and thin, stop pushing me away over and over again, please let me love you.
Let me love you.
Jiang Xichen’s breath hitches.
Lan Wanyin still dreams of a future with him. However, it is not the same as he'd presumed. Lan Wanyin doesn't want him to change, doesn't need him to change. All Lan Wanyin wants is to stay silently by his side, to become a pillar of support for him on his journey, be it as a sect leader or a demonic cultivator.
But it is too much.
It is far too much for him to possibly accept.
Reaching over, Jiang Xichen slams a palm down on all seven strings mid-song, cutting their vibrations off.
Lan Wanyin snaps his gaze up, shocked.
Slowly, the Yiling Patriarch then withdraws his hand. "Lan er-gongzi, I have understood the direction of your intentions, but you should know better than anyone else that sometimes, your family name will decide for you what you must do, what you can do, and what you cannot do."
Jiang Xichen punctuates the silence between his words by picking up a half-finished jar of exquisite peach blossom wine by his feet and ripping the seal off its lid.
This was one of the things Wei Wuxian had brought over to share with the Wens during his last visit, something that Jiang Xichen had accepted but couldn't bring himself to finish alone because of its overly sweet aftertaste. However, now he longs for it—longs for the aroma of peach blossoms to fill the air, longs for the sweetness of the liquor to contrast against the stark astringency of his following words.
"Surely you'd be familiar with such rules, seeing as you are from Cloud Recesses. How did it go again? Do not associate with evil. Stay on the righteous path, reject the crooked one."
"Demonic cultivation is not necessarily a crooked path. All power is equal, the only difference is in the way it is wielded. The path a man chooses to take is dictated by their heart, and I trust that yours is just."
"Just?" Jiang Xichen scoffs, the cracked timbre of his voice exceedingly jarring when it echoes through the cave. "I am afraid you are the only one who would think that of a murderer."
"You are not a murderer. You are…" Lan Wanyin trails off, an unreadable expression flickering across his countenance when he recalls the brutally mangled bodies of Wen Chao and Wen Zhuliu. "You are…"
"Look, there really is no point to this conversation," Jiang Xichen interrupts, the corners of his lips lifting wryly up into a knowing smile. Grabbing the jug by the neck, he pours out a bowl of the peach blossom wine and slides it across the table to Lan Wanyin. "At the end of the day, it doesn't matter what you think as an individual. As long as the other sects think that I am up to no good, then I will be considered the evil one."
The white-robed cultivator traces the tip of his index finger slowly around the brim of the liquor bowl, peering down at the pink liquid sloshing in it. "But that… isn't fair. The teachings say we should never judge others solely by the opinions we form of them."
Jiang Xichen laughs coldly. "And the reason why teachings against these exist, is precisely because it is human nature to form shallow opinions of others and ostracise those who are different. When I am on their side and fighting with them against a common enemy, then I am their dependable hero, the force of the rebellion, the flower that blooms alone. But the second my voice differs from theirs, I am immediately labelled as someone who is now walking on a crooked path, as the evil who lost all sense of morality, as someone who should be taken down."
Jiang Xichen takes a long swig of wine straight from the jug. A trail of rosy liquid dribbles down his chin and he runs the back of his hand over his lips, smearing it across his skin.
"It is far too long and tiring of a battle for me to fight alone."
It has been four years since, perhaps even nearly a relentless five. Jiang Xichen has long since lost track of the number of years since Lotus Pier fell, but he can still vividly recall the haunting image of his parents' mutilated bodies and the sensation of Wen Chao’s blood on his hands.
Lan Wanyin frowns. "But you don't have to fight it alone. You shouldn't need to fight it alone."
"And how can you say that? What do you know? What do you know about me?!" Jiang Xichen snaps out of the blue, shattering the jug in his grip. The ceramic shards cut deeply into his palm, drawing blood, but Jiang Xichen is already too far gone to notice the pain.
"You think I don't want to ignore all those condemnations about me? You think I don't want to stay in Lotus Pier? But the truth is that my presence hurts everyone! Because I went back, my parents died! Because I came back, the sect is being called the second Qishan Wen! Yet, you claim that I can still shamelessly remain by the side of my loved ones? Then tell me, exactly how many more things must I destroy? Exactly how many more people must I inadvertently kill?!"
"That is not what I–"
"How many more people do I have to watch dying before my eyes before all of you would let me live in peace? My sister? Wei Wuxian? The Wens? Or–"
Lan Wanyin lunges forward and over the table in the next moment, seizing Jiang Xichen by the shoulders before the man finishes his sentence. The momentum sends them sprawling backwards, with Jiang Xichen landing on his back with a wince, while Lan Wanyin collapses in a heap on top of him.
There is a long pregnant silence which stretches between them, before Lan Wanyin pulls away with frustrated tears in his eyes.
"Why… Why do you keep twisting my words, Jiang Xichen?! All I want to do is to help. All I want is for you to be happy!"
The sweet aroma of peaches tinged with the heady scent of liquor wafts through the entire cave, melding seamlessly with the refreshing scent of lotus that always lingers around Lan Wanyin, and Jiang Xichen presses a hand against the slighter man's chest, pushing him further away.
He feels the erratic rhythm of Lan Wanyin’s heart against his palm, feels the warmth emanating through the layers of robes—the same warmth that he had felt ebbing out of the man in Jiangling, and that sensation is one which Jiang Xichen wishes he'd never have to feel again in this lifetime.
"Has it ever occurred to you that I simply do not want your help, Lan er-gongzi?"
Lan Wanyin’s hands fall limply to his sides.
“It did.”
Lan Wanyin has merely uttered two simple words, yet the sheer range of emotion encapsulated by them alone is immeasurable. The hurt, the hope, the despair: every single one of them is apparent in his words, evident in the complex swirl of emotion clouding Lan Wanyin's steel blue eyes.
Jiang Xichen swallows down the lump forming at the back of his throat, and wills the twitching of his fingers away. He can't afford to change his mind at this point, not any longer.
He shoves Lan Wanyin off of him.
"Leave then."
Notes:
1. Ruyuan (如愿): dreams come true. Back
2. Ruhong (如红), Ruqing (如青), Rulan (如蓝). Hong, Qing, Lan here refers to the colours red, green, and blue respectively. Wei Wuxian is claiming that they can name the child anything they want, and uses these to give as an example and a figure of speech. Back
3. For those who might be interested in what I have in mind for the piece Lan Wanyin plays, there is a song which I always see in relation to this fic, which is 大鱼, the theme song of 大鱼海棠 (Big Fish & Begonia). Here are the links to the original song (with lyrics) and the guqin cover (instrumental). Back
4. Hui (徽) are the markings on a guqin. There are typically thirteen of them. Back
Chapter 31: Ramification V
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
<FLASHBACK>
“Did something happen with Lan er-gongzi? Ever since the day you brought him here, you've tossed your sword to a corner and just been sitting around with a dejected look while humming the same tune over and over again," Wen Qing points out offhandedly as she removes the last few acupuncture needles from Jiang Xichen’s back.
The Yiling Patriarch grimaces at the mention, as though he hadn't even noticed himself doing that until Wen Qing called him out for it. He blinks twice then, almost guiltily, before clearing his throat dryly. “You are reading far too much into this, Wen Qing. It is just a song."
"Just a song?" she echoes incredulously, knowingly.
"A song that means a lot to me," Jiang Xichen corrects himself with a sigh, averting his gaze by lowering it down to the jade token on his palm. He had given up trying to keep it out of Wen Qing's sight when it became obvious that he would have to show it to the medic at some point. "It is composed by the same person who gave me this."
—Lan Wanyin.
Wen Qing can infer the answer from the generous hint even if Jiang Xichen does not put it clearly into words.
She folds her arms and sneers. "Sometimes I feel like I am unable to comprehend what exactly is going on inside your thoughts. If you like him enough to mope all day while humming his song, then why do you keep pushing him away over and over again? Or am I mistaken, and you are actually trying to get him to hate you?"
Jiang Xichen scoffs, returning her displeased expression with a nonchalant wave of his hand. "Do we have to talk about this right now? Today is Wen Yuan's last night here before he leaves for Lotus Pier tomorrow. Are you sure you wouldn't rather spend time with him instead?"
"If it is A-Yuan you're worried about, he's off playing with Wei Wuxian now."
Jiang Xichen raises a brow, alarmed. "Wei Wuxian is here? But he is only supposed to come pick up Wen Yuan tomorrow."
Wen Qing shrugs. "He found out we've only had radishes for every meal lately. Who are we to deny him when he offered to bring groceries and cook?"
Jiang Xichen's jaw drops at the implication behind her words. He feels an extremely well-warranted sense of dread bubbling up from the pit of his gut, twisting his stomach into horrible knots as it surges forth and overflows from his lips in the form of three distinct words.
"He is cooking?!"
As if on cue, a high-pitched bawl comes from the direction of the makeshift kitchen, its sheer volume loud enough to carry up the mountain audibly.
Jiang Xichen and Wen Qing rush over at once, afraid that someone had broken the runes and infiltrated Burial Mounds, only to find a cackling Wei Wuxian wildly swinging a red-faced and screaming Wen Yuan upside-down by his ankles.
"Spit it out, A-Yuan! Quick, listen to Xian-gege and spit it out!"
Affronted by the scene before her eyes, a seething Wen Qing storms her way up to Wei Wuxian with several wide strides and smacks him upside the head before pulling the dangling child to her bosom.
"What do you think you're doing to A-Yuan?!"
"I'm saving his life, Qing-jie!"
"Poisoning him, you mean!" Wen Qing casts a look of absolute disdain down at the two dishes on the table. “From now on, stay as far away from the kitchen as possible!"
Wei Wuxian openly gapes at her in protest. “How can you say this without having eaten any! Come on, Qing-jie, you should know better than to judge a book by its cover. Just try a morsel. I promise you, you'll be in love with the taste!"
“Taste?! Don’t you see how much A-Yuan is crying after he took one bite? My goodness, if you can’t cook, then don't offer to cook! What an utter waste of ingredients. And you even took so long to make two inedible dishes too!"
Wei Wuxian turns his nose up in the air. "Anything is edible if you're brave enough!"
"You can eat my fist then!"
"Gladly~"
"Wei Wuxian, you–!"
While the two are squabbling, Jiang Xichen approaches Granny Wen who is holding a poorly-made walking stick in one hand and a plate in another as she shakily makes her way out of the kitchen.
"Allow me to help you," Jiang Xichen offers, reaching out for the plate, only for the elderly woman to hesitate with an inconspicuous step backward.
The motion causes her to trip over a small pebble, her body tilting backwards, and Jiang Xichen barely has sufficient time to steady her before Wen Yuan loudly yells. "Granny!"
With Wen Yuan still in her arms, Wen Qing immediately hurries over with obvious concern despite her grumbling.
"I've been telling you this since the very first day but you don't have to help out with any of the chores. Your legs are nowhere as good as before. If you fall down, not only will you get injured, but we will also lose more plates, and you know just how difficult it was to bring all these porcelain up the mountain…”
Granny Wen's body begins shaking in Jiang Xichen's arms.
Jiang Xichen glances down at her with a reassuring smile. "Don't listen to Wen Qing's exaggeration. It wasn't exactly all that difficult to bring plates and bowls up to the Burial Mounds. If you wish to help out, you can, just make sure not to over-exert yourself."
"That's right, that's right!" one of the Wen remnants chime in at once. "We all know that Granny Wen’s cooking is the best in the house, right?!"
"Yes! Whatever would we do without her sumptuous cooking?"
With the Wens backing him up, Jiang Xichen then glances up to Wen Qing with the same smile on his face. "Have you forgotten the occasion today? It is Wen Yuan's last dinner on the Burial Mounds after all—it certainly wouldn't be surprising to consider that she probably wanted to cook something for him, would it?"
Wen Qing purses her lips, obviously displeased but with no suitable rebuttal for Jiang Xichen’s observation.
From behind them, an amused Wei Wuxian bursts into raucous peals of laughter, enjoying Wen Qing's speechlessness until she gives him a hard smack upside the head, effectively shutting him up again.
Meanwhile, the other Wen Sect cultivators gesture for Jiang Xichen to take the main seat in the middle before piling all the best dishes before him without even giving the man a chance to protest.
Jiang Xichen leans back in his spot, silently regarding the Wens crowding around him with a bemused smile as they busy themselves with arranging the chopsticks.
If it were any other day, Jiang Xichen is sure the Wens would have never done this because it has always been acutely obvious to him since the start that most of them are somewhat scared of him.
Even if they had never witnessed first-hand how he wielded resentment energy on the battlefield, Jiang Xichen is certain they must have at least heard of his ruthless reputation during the Sunshot Campaign. Thus, it has always been a given that none of the Wens would ever be willing to approach him.
Yet now, as of the moment, about fifty pairs of eyes are staring straight at him. Although a hint of fear is still lurking within the depths of those wary gazes, Jiang Xichen can tell that it is no longer the same—no longer an instinctual fear of someone stronger, but one stemmed from veneration, akin to the reverence for a benefactor.
"What are you gawking around for?" Wen Qing's voice is low, soft, despite her harsh choice of words. "Although we say this is a farewell dinner for A-Yuan, it is also a dinner to show our gratitude to you."
Jiang Xichen inclines his head in surprise. "Gratitude? Then you should say it to Wei Wuxian and the Yunmeng Jiang sect for taking Wen Yuan in."
Wen Qing rolls her eyes. "No, it's for you. Like I said, this dinner is not just for A-Yuan, but also to thank you for your sacrifices. In fact, all of them wanted to have dinner with you once so they could thank you, but they were afraid of being a nuisance to your work. Now that A-Yuan is leaving soon, Uncle Four said that this will be our last chance to have dinner together, so we must do it today no matter what."
"Yes, yes," Uncle Four chips in anxiously, placing several sealed bottles on the table. "It was my suggestion to have a meal. But it’s fine even if you'd rather not eat. Just have a seat, we can chat and share a few drinks.”
"Drinks?" Wei Wuxian's eyes brighten up all at once. "You really managed to successfully make wine up here? With the wild fruits on this mountain?"
"Wild fruits?" Jiang Xichen raises a curious brow. He had crawled through nearly the entire Burial Mounds during the three months he'd been trapped up here, but had never seen anything even closely resembling edible food in both visuals and taste.
"Even if I called them fruits, they aren't quite similar to what I have seen before. I had to experiment with many different fermentation methods before I finally succeeded in turning it into fruit wine," Uncle Four explains with an embarrassed smile.
"Don't sell yourself short!" a few of the older Wen Sect members chime in at once, giving Uncle Four hearty slaps on his back. "We've already told you that your wine is rich and the taste is unparalleled!"
The glimmer in Wei Wuxian’s eyes grows stronger. "Really? Then we'll definitely have to try some! Right, Ge?"
Before Jiang Xichen can either agree or refuse, Uncle Four has already pulled the seal on the bottle off, and poured out a generous bowl of liquor for each of them.
Wei Wuxian cups his share in his hand and takes a nice, long whiff before downing the entire bowl in one huge gulp. "It really is rich! Definitely one of the more vibrant flavour profiles I’ve come across to date!"
The Wens within earshot all straighten their backs upon hearing Wei Wuxian’s comment, their faces beaming as though they had just received the greatest compliment ever. Then, one by one, Jiang Xichen notices their cautious demeanour slowly melt away as they gradually get comfortable enough to talk to him.
"Now that we've found a way to make wine, you can leave it to us! You don't have to buy the subpar stuff from the town anymore. Just let us know when and how much you want to drink and we'll have it ready for you!"
"Do not pamper him just because he is the same age as your dead son. Can't you see how thin he is? Instead of giving him liquor, you should be feeding him food!"
"Aiya, saying these things can only mean that you women really don't get it. Look here, alcohol is a man's soul. It's more important than air itself!
"Well, if a man's defining factor is a complete lack of brains, I don't want to be one either."
"You– You foul-mouthed shrew!"
"You loud-mouthed buffoon!"
That night, a total of fifty people cram at three small tables for that one meal, pressing shoulder to shoulder just to stretch their chopsticks out to the different plates of food.
It is loud, unruly, with a lot of shouting and cursing going on, yet amidst the commotion, Jiang Xichen finds himself smiling.
He hasn't heard this much chatter in a long time. Growing up, there was never a silent moment in Lotus Pier with Wei Wuxian and the other disciples stirring up trouble at every turn. Yet, he'd been surrounded by silence so regularly nowadays that he has nearly completely forgotten just how nostalgic and comforting noise can be—until now.
Humming under his breath, Jiang Xichen lifts the liquor bowl to his lips and takes a small sip, swirling the fragrant liquid in his mouth before swallowing.
It is the first time in a long while that he is able to taste the sweetness in the wine.
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
"Have you heard that the Great Four Sects are thinking of crowning someone as Chief Cultivator?"
A group of cultivators are standing between several long rows of well-arranged shelves inside the largest Treasure Pavilion in Lanling City, chattering amongst themselves as they compare the prices and craftsmanship of various spiritual jades and weapons available for purchase.
"I know about it. It seems that the big sects have been arguing about this for the past few months. Have they come to a conclusion yet?"
“What is there to argue about? We can’t possibly go on being like a heap of loose sand forever, can we?"
"But choosing a cultivator who will watch over all of the sects... That's not good, isn't it? What if it gives rise to another Qishan Wen Sect…?"
"Well, I don’t personally see those two as the same. The Chief Cultivator is elected by all sects. The basis is completely different."
"Huh? Though they say it's an election, we know deep down that it will be the same few people competing for the position, isn't it? Is there even any space for other candidates?"
"That might be so but I don't think everyone in the Great Four Sects are for that idea? At least, I've heard that Chifeng-zun seems to be quite adamantly against it. He has tried to stop Jin Guangshan countless times, implied or otherwise. If I were to say, I honestly think there will still be a long time before they finish mulling over it. Not to mention that even if they decide to elect a Chief Cultivator, it is still probably going to take them a good couple of years to choose a suitable person to sit in that position."
Someone who had been standing silently at the side all this while, suddenly lets out a huge sigh. "Aiyo, let's stop talking about such depressing news. There are so many more joyous occasions to discuss about lately, don't you think?"
"That's true, that's true. Did you know that the completion ceremony of the Cloud Recesses' Library Pavilion was just held last week? I was honoured enough to be invited and I must say that the newly built interior looks exactly the same as how it was before it was destroyed."
“As expected of the Gusu Lan Sect! To think that they pulled off that feat in such a short amount of time—they truly pay attention to all the fine details and never cut any corners.”
“Speaking of joyous occasions, don’t we also have the full-month celebration of Jin Zixuan’s son coming up? I heard people have already begun sending gifts over to Lanling Jin. My sister who works there as a handmaiden told me that the kid usually spends most of his day crying and kicking up a fuss. It’s only when he sees his father’s Suihua that he starts giggling. The Jins are all saying that the child is going to be a wonderful swordsman when he grows up.”
“Of course he will become a wonderful swordsman! Have you forgotten that his father is the third on the list of young masters, and his uncle is the first?”
A momentary silence suddenly fell upon the Treasure Pavilion before erupting into loud boisterous chatter.
“By uncle… Do you mean… the Yiling Patriarch, Jiang Xichen?”
“I almost forgot that the Yiling Patriarch is the child’s uncle! So, do you think that they will invite him to the full-month celebration? Technically he still is the uncle, right?”
“He isn’t anymore. He chose to leave Yunmeng Jiang, remember? He was the one who cut all ties with the Jiangs. Besides, even if Madam Jin wants to invite her younger brother, there is no way Jin Zixuan will allow it. Have you forgotten what Jiang Xichen pulled at the Golden Pavilion? There’s no way anyone in the Lanling Jin Sect would invite him after that!”
Miles away, while leaning against the dim entranceway to Burial Mounds, the Yiling Patriarch slides a delicate sandalwood box open for the umpteenth time to peer at the white jade tassel pendant nestled within. “I still can’t believe that Jin Zixuan extended an invitation to me. A-Jie must have gone to great lengths to persuade him."
Beside him, Wen Qing rolls her eyes. "It can’t exactly be called an invitation, can it? What that Jin guy asked you to do is basically to trespass into Lanling Jin's territory to meet your nephew.”
“Still, that is as good as an invitation to me. I have actually never imagined that I would have the opportunity to meet Jin Ling so soon. Besides, inviting me to the actual celebration would be…"
Wen Qing sighs.
Although she was never one to care for politics within the Qishan Wen Sect, she was still one of Wen Ruohan’s vassals and had her fair share of run-ins with similar scenarios. She doesn't need Jiang Xichen to finish his sentence to understand his point.
“Fine. I get that you’re bringing that tassel as a gift. But what about those straw butterflies you left in the cave? Are you not intending to give them to your nephew anymore? Have you forgotten how much time and effort you spent scouring Burial Mounds to find suitable materials to give him something handmade?"
The smile on Jiang Xichen’s face turns sheepish. "I did try my best but unfortunately, my hands are no longer like how they used to be. Besides, he is a child born from a union between the Lanling Jin and Yunmeng Jiang Sects, I am sure he wouldn't have any lack of toys to play with."
Wen Qing folds her arms and points her nose haughtily up into the air. "Isn't that all the more reason for you to give him something handmade?"
"Certainly not when they look like this," Jiang Xichen shrugs nonchalantly and gets to his feet. Wen Qing is an incredibly headstrong woman and there is no talking sense into her when she gets like this. “You should go back up the mountain.”
“Chasing your physician away? Just because you have shown a slight improvement lately doesn’t mean you aren’t in a perilous condition right now. Remember that any shift of your mood can potentially be disastrous, and if you were to use resentment energy again, the core will get larger and—”
“And it’s the hour of xu1 soon. Wei Wuxian will be here anytime."
Wen Qing scoffs. “Since when has that rascal ever been on time?”
“Since now!” Wei Wuxian interjects cheerily as he steps out of the shadows with a wide grin. He waves enthusiastically to them with his right hand, inadvertently tugging on the reins of one of the two donkeys behind him.
The animal brays, its front hooves lifting off the ground with a dense cloud of dust, and Wei Wuxian swiftly hops onto it while tossing the reins of the other calmer donkey at Jiang Xichen.
"You really can't blame me for being late, Qing-jie. No matter which stable I went to, they all merely wanted to do business. But I forgot to bring money so I had no choice but to wander around until I found these two beauties by the river!"
"Beauties? They are donkeys!”
“Well, beggars can’t be choosers!”
“Beggars? Wei Wuxian, did you come here to rub salt into our wounds? You have the funds of the entire Yunmeng Jiang Sect behind you!”
“Nuh-uh, even if I had the finances of the entire world, it means nothing if I forget to bring my money pouch out with me, right?” Wei Wuxian chuckles unremorsefully, his tone carefree as he digs his heels into the animal’s side.
The donkey brays, its long ears twitching in acute displeasure before it lurches forward suddenly in the next second with an unstoppable vigour which could rival that of a purebred horse.
Wei Wuxian yanks harshly on the reins at once, forcibly redirecting the spurring donkey off towards their destination: Lanling Jin.
Under the mellow moonlight filtering down the plain, Jiang Xichen makes sure to follow close behind Wei Wuxian as they swiftly tear down the mountain path and past the small villages lining Yiling's perimeter.
Horsemanship is one of the indispensable arts for any disciple hailing from a respectable clan, and although it is Jiang Xichen's first time riding on a donkey, the difference between the two mounts is not enough to throw him off. What bothers him more is how Wei Wuxian is uncharacteristically silent through nearly half of the journey—a stark contrast from how teasingly familiar he behaved with Wen Qing earlier.
"Something on your mind?" Jiang Xichen finally pulls himself together enough to verbalise the question nagging at him all this while.
Wei Wuxian's gaze flickers over, then away again. "I should be the one asking you that. Did something happen between you and Lan-xiong?"
"Why are you bringing Lan er-gongzi up again? If I didn't know better, I'd say you're more into him than Hanguang-jun."
"Why are you bringing Lan Zhan into this? The topic at hand is obviously about you and Lan-xiong."
Jiang Xichen lets out a defeated sigh. "There is absolutely nothing between me and Lan Wanyin."
"Nothing, my ass."
Jiang Xichen's forefinger with Zidian twitches. "Drop it, Wei Wuxian. Whatever you have in mind to talk about is not something I wish to discuss right now."
Wei Wuxian whirls around to face him. "Alright, since you insist on changing the subject—why don't we talk about your reason for choosing to go to Lanling Jin on horseback then?"
Jiang Xichen’s breath catches.
The air around them instantly grows uncomfortably stale and frigid. Dense waves of dark murderous intent emanate from Jiang Xichen, rolling forth in thick waves. However, Wei Wuxian continues staring straight into Jiang Xichen’s eyes, undaunted.
"Tell me the truth, Ge. The reason why you—"
Wei Wuxian cuts his own words off all of a sudden. In the same moment, he tugs Suibian free from his waistband and swings the sheathed weapon skyward in an arc. A sharp collision rings through the still air, and a deflected fletched arrow lands harmlessly into the sandy path before them.
Jiang Xichen abruptly snaps his gaze up.
Many people begin emerging from countless hiding spots on both sides of the steep valley. Yellow, green, white, blue—most of them are wearing robes of Sparks Amidst Snow, although the smattering of varied colours in their outfits suggests the involvement of other sects as well.
The leader of the mismatched group steps further forward, lowering his bow to glare darkly down at them from above.
Jiang Xichen urges his mount forward, circling around Wei Wuxian to plant himself in front of the latter before speaking.
"To what do I owe the honour of having Jin Zixun-gongzi personally welcoming me with such a huge entourage on this beautiful night?"
"Me? Welcoming you? Hah, dream on! I'm here to stop you!"
"That's awfully strange then. Although Qiongqi Path theoretically still falls under the jurisdiction of the Lanling Jin Sect, I have never heard that there are any restrictions in place against anyone passing through."
"That is indeed the case for anyone, but are you considered 'anyone'?"
Jiang Xichen hums thoughtfully under his breath in mock appreciation. "Hm, that does make a lot of sense. Honestly, it's an unexpectedly sound statement coming from you."
The jibe against Jin Zixun causes the pompous man to prickle, his body shaking with a mix of anger and embarrassment. "Jiang Xichen, you– I’m warning you! Lift the evil curse that you put on me right now, and I can pretend like nothing happened and let you off the hook.”
"Did you discern that you can't outtalk me under normal circumstances, so you've turned to making up lies instead?"
“Lies, you say? I’d like to know if you still have the cheek to pretend you don’t know anything after you see what your evil curse did to me!” Jin Zixun roars, tearing his lapels wide open to reveal a horrendous sight.
The man’s chest is covered entirely in holes of all sizes. They are spaced out rather evenly, with the smaller ones the size of sesame seeds while the larger ones are akin to that of soybeans.
Wei Wuxian takes one brief glance up at him. “It’s the Hundred Holes curse."
Jiang Xichen’s face darkens.
The Hundred Holes curse is notorious for being one of utmost brutality.
Initially, the victim will feel nothing and the majority of the holes will merely resemble enlarged pores. However, as time goes by, they will grow in number and size, until the victim's entire body is covered entirely in holes of all sizes, almost resembling a grotesque human sieve. On top of that, after the surface of the skin is covered with holes, the curse will then begin to extend toward the internal organs, causing them to rot away.
Needless to say, even if the curse were to be halted halfway, the damage which is already done will remain irreparable. However, most victims rarely even get to that point because the Hundred Holes curse itself is known to be virtually impossible to remove.
There is only one known foolproof method: killing the caster.
"Are you insinuating that I am the one behind it? Because curses fall under the sector of dark arts, so everything related to an unorthodox methodology must be done by the Yiling Patriarch—are you aware of how foolish you sound?”
“Stop making futile excuses! I’m not going to let you talk your way out of this again!" Jin Zixun thunders, hastily tucking his lapels back in place, as if he himself is disgusted with his appearance too. “Apart from a criminal like you who’s used to all these crooked means, who else would and could put such a savage thing on me?!”
Jiang Xichen inclines his head with an exaggerated sigh. “Regardless of my current status and position, I was still born as an heir into one of the Great Four Sects. Did you think I would cast aside my pride to employ such underhanded tactics?"
"Definitely! I mean, the evidence is right there, isn't it? The fact that Wei Wuxian is with you now means that your defection was staged!"
"This and that are two different matters," Wei Wuxian butts in, clicking his tongue with obvious displeasure. "Are you here to talk about your curse or about this? Make up your mind."
Jin Zixun sneers. “Do you still think you can afford to talk to me in this manner? But as a magnanimous young master, I'll let it slide, because it's not like you will have the chance to talk more after this.”
Killing intent flashes within Jin Zixun’s cold eyes. Without any further words, the man then raises his arm. Behind him, all the disciples notch their arrows without any delay, pulling the bowstrings taut as they aim mercilessly down at the two men.
"Release!" Jin Zixun orders in the next second, his booming voice cracking at the end.
The wind howls, loud and unbearable, as hundreds of arrows rain down into the valley all at once from every plausible direction.
Jiang Xichen freezes up reflexively. A tingle runs from the base of his spine up to his scalp and he unwittingly clenches his grip around the reins.
There is nowhere to hide, no way for him to evade a confrontation at this point anymore. Yet if he were to exchange blows with Jin Zixun now, it can only spell disaster for Wei Wuxian and the Yunmeng Jiang Sect.
A good part of the reason why he left Yunmeng in the first place was to prevent such a tragic scenario from happening, but ironically of course, his decisions still led him back to this same situation.
"What are you standing around for, Ge? We aren't going down without a fight, right?" Wei Wuxian yells, drawing Suibian.
The brilliant sword glare from the spiritual weapon snaps Jiang Xichen out of his brief stupor and he thrusts a hand against the younger man's chest, sending him flying out of the valley with a quick blast of energy. Using his other arm simultaneously, he turns Zidian into its whip form and lashes it out, slicing all the approaching arrows cleanly in half.
They fall around him haphazardly, forming a misshapen circle, and Jiang Xichen directs his cold gaze back up at Jin Zixun.
However, the smug expression on Jin cultivator’s face is clearly indicative that he still has other plans up his sleeve—and just as Jiang Xichen predicted, around a hundred cultivators quickly leap down into the valley without missing a beat, brandishing their swords at him.
Jiang Xichen skips back several steps, twisting his body to dodge the skilled blades which come at him one after another.
Jin Zixun, who is standing a safe distance away from the fight, laughs. "I can't believe you're putting up such a huge fight. Why, are you really that anxious to meet your nephew?"
Jiang Xichen stills, his blood running cold right down to his marrow as his heart sinks.
And if Jiang Xichen were to be honest, his heart has been sinking for a long, long time.
Initially, it was filled with joy and hope upon receiving the invitation to Jin Ling's full-month celebration. He did not even cast a second thought to the fact that Jin Zixuan had essentially requested him to brave danger and sneak into Koi Tower. But now, that same joy has dissipated, the hope clouded over by a shadow. Yet, despite this, Jiang Xichen still refuses to think about it too much, refuses to take a guess at why these people who had laid an ambush at Qiongqi Path know exactly what he is passing by the area for.
“You must be thinking why I know your plan to meet A-Ling, right?” Jin Zixun continues. “You’re known for your wits, so I’m certain you already have the answer. The one who sent you the invitation is my cousin, Jin Zixuan, and the one leading the ambush is me. Surely, the connection is more than obvious.”
Noting the hesitation flickering in Jiang Xichen’s expression, the emboldened Jin Zixun then uses the opening to launch an attack on the unsuspecting Yiling Patriarch and manages to successfully nick the latter in the shoulder, drawing blood.
Grimacing, Jiang Xichen immediately leaps backward, putting a wide berth between him and Jin Zixun.
"Needless to say, it's all a trap, of course. Haha, you should look at your own expression right now! What, you didn’t really think that you could attend A-Ling’s full-month celebration, did you?” Jin Zixun runs his finger down the length of his sword, sliding the pad of his thumb through the crimson liquid staining the edge of the blade. “How laughable. Have you forgotten your own status? You’re someone who even killed his own birth parents. There is absolutely no way we’d ever allow a monster like you near A-Ling!”
Jiang Xichen’s face darkens. He spits out one word at a time. “I did not kill them. I did not curse you either.”
Jin Zixun scoffs. “Did you think your words would hold any form of credibility at this point?”
“Then I have nothing more to say to you. Let me through, I want to see Jin Ling.”
“See A-Ling? If you truly wish for the best for him, then you should kill yourself here. Else, the poor child would have to grow up while being jeered by his peers for having the Yiling Patriarch as his uncle.”
The venomous words make Jiang Xichen’s hands tremble slightly, his control over the resentment energy swirling around the valley wavering slightly.
As if on cue, a yellow-robed figure leaps down the cliffs above, landing lightly in between Jiang Xichen and Jin Zixun. “Stop!”
Jin Zixun takes a step back at once, confusion evident in his expression. “Zixuan? Why are you here?!”
The enraged Jin Zixuan places a cautionary hand on the hilt of his sword, Suihua. “Why do you think I’m here?!”
“Don’t try to stop me, Zixuan! Since you’re here, then you must have heard the whole story from A-Yao. You know me, I definitely won’t back down until I get rid of these things from my body! Do you know how much anguish this curse has caused me?”
The fact that Jin Zixun is under the Hundred Holes curse is an unspeakable matter even within the Jin clan. However, it is not too difficult to simply imagine how troubling it was for the arrogant young master.
Firstly, Jin Zixun had always thought of himself as handsome and would definitely cannot bear to have his body ruined by such an unsightly, repulsive curse. Secondly, to be on the receiving end of this would suggest that his level of cultivation isn’t high enough for his spiritual energy to overcome the effects of the curse, bruising his pride further.
He refused to confide in anyone about it, save for Jin Guangshan, who entrusted Jin Guangyao to arrange for countless medics and cursed specialists to attend to Jin Zixun’s condition.
Unfortunately, neither of the two groups are of any help, and it is only when Jin Guangyao offhandedly let slip his suspicions about Jin Zixuan potentially inviting Jiang Xichen to sneak into Lanling Jin to meet Jin Ling, that the crazed Jin Zixun finally see a glimmer of hope.
“Listen to me, Zixun. Calm down. You don’t have to go that far. It is still possible to turn things around. The rest of you too, do you hear me? Stop for the time being.”
Unfortunately, Jin Zixun is far too angry and impatient to take his cousin’s platitudes to heart. “What is there to turn around now that things have already come to this? Don’t tell me that you are planning to disregard my life for the sake of this disgusting demonic cultivator?!”
Jin Zixuan’s countenance turns pale. “You clearly know I’m not that kind of person! What I meant was that we need to get to the bottom of the matter first. Jiang Xichen might not necessarily be the one behind the Hundred Holes curse. Such a huge curse would definitely have some rebound effects on the caster. At the very least, we have to check him before jumping to conclusions–"
“What is there to check?!” Jin Zixun snaps, losing his cool completely. “There is no need to prove anything and there is no way you can prove it either! He is the Yiling Patriarch, specialising in dark curses! It wouldn’t be strange if there are no marks on him! Or what, are you suggesting that we take his lies at face value?”
“Enough! No matter how much you dislike him, he is still A-Li’s biological brother!”
“Brother? What brother? He has long since defected from the Jiang sect and clan! Right now, this guy is a nobody!” Jin Zixun raises his voice. “Whoever touches him gets nothing but bad luck and death—his parents, his sect, aren’t there more than enough examples already? Or is it that you want to wait for Sister-in-law and A-Ling to die before you’d understand?!”
Jiang Xichen recoils at Jin Zixun's words. They drag out the darkest worries from the recesses of Jiang Xichen’s mind and together, they chip away at the man's crumbling emotional state.
Burdened, he stumbles backward, chest heaving up and down with short stuttered breaths. His eyes glow next, shifting from amber to golden and back again as the shrill roaring of demonic voices in his head overwhelms him.
In that singular moment, it feels as though he has lost total control over his body. All that remains crystal clear in his mind is an overpowering urge to get Jin Zixun to shut up, and Jiang Xichen reflexively lunges straight at the latter, reaching towards the tanned column of Jin Zixun’s throat with utmost accuracy and venomous killing intent.
The scabbard of Suihua comes smashing down instantly and brutally, meeting the back of Jiang Xichen’s wrist with more force than necessary, before the man grabs the grimacing Jiang Xichen by his collar.
“Did you not hear me earlier? I said, stop for the time being!”
Hissing, Jiang Xichen pauses and turns, directing a dark murderous glare at Jin Zixuan. “This isn’t Lanling. Your commands have no bearings on me. Now get out of my way. I don’t want to hurt you, because I know how important you are to A-Jie."
Jin Zixuan pauses for a second, unnerved by Jiang Xichen’s uncharacteristically cold tone.
Although he had never particularly liked Jiang Xichen as a person, there is no doubt that he had a sliver of respect for the man as a fellow sect heir. Jiang Xichen’s tenacity with cultivation, his calm demeanour as he meanders through tough political situations in sect meetings with a polite smile—all of these were qualities which the rash Jin Zixuan wanted to learn.
Yet now, the Jiang Xichen before him is akin to an unrecognisable stranger.
"Stop being unreasonable and think about this rationally! Do you really think you can get away with it if you harm Zixun here? Even if you can, what about Wei Wuxian? What about A-Li?!"
Jiang Xichen’s posture wavers. His brows pull into a deep furrow, the corners of his mouth twitching as he enunciates every single word slowly. “Don’t you dare bring my sister into this.”
“Or what? Or you’d kill us all? I’d like to see you try!” Jin Zixun taunts, his courage fuelled by the mere presence of his talented cousin. Since young, Jin Zixun had witnessed first-hand all the great feats Jin Zixuan effortlessly pulls off. To him, there is seemingly nothing Jin Zixuan would be incapable of, even if it is defeating the notorious and unrivalled Yiling Patriarch.
Jin Zixuan shoves a hand roughly against his cousin’s chest. “Calm down and stop goading him on!”
“Why should I? You should know better than anyone else how much anguish Sister-in-law was going through during her pregnancy because her emotions were in a wreck due to him! She nearly died giving birth to A-Ling! You should be the one hating Jiang Xichen more than anyone else in this world!”
“Shut up right now!”
“I won’t! Zixuan, I know it’s difficult for you to deal the final blow, so just stand there and let me do it! I promise that I will never tell Sister-in-law that you were ever here!”
“I said, shut up!” Jin Zixuan shouts with a greater urgency this time, but it is already too late.
The tiny bits and pieces of information Jiang Xichen collated from the brief dialogue between the Jin cousins align themselves into a story, and despite their incoherence, thrusts the unstable demonic cultivator into a frenzied internal turmoil.
Jin Zixuan laid out this trap for him.
Jin Zixuan never wanted to let him meet Jin Ling. All of this was solely to create an opportunity to kill him at Qiongqi Path.
But what about Wei Wuxian then? Wei Wuxian delivered the invitation to him. Wei Wuxian accompanied him here. Did he know about the Jin's plan? Was he in on it too?
No, Wei Wuxian wouldn’t do this. He knows Wei Wuxian. Wei Wuxian will never, ever betray him like this.
Jiang Xichen glances between the two Jin cultivators, his vision swimming. Red spots begin appearing at the edges of his periphery, growing in number and size with every passing millisecond until everything he sees turns into a sea of red.
“Jin Zixuan…” Jiang Xichen croaks, squinting through the haze of pain as the golden robes and faces of the two cultivators meld together into a single blurry figure. “Tell me the truth. Did you really not know about their plan to kill me? Or was this all part of your ploy? To use Wei Wuxian and to deceive my sister…?!”
Unforgivable.
To think that Jin Zixuan will trample over A-Jie’s feelings like this.
Unforgivable, unforgivable, unforgivable.
Heat blazes white-hot at Jiang Xichen’s chest, spiralling outwards into an inferno that burns down to his extremities. He can barely breathe against the mounting pain, barely hear past the frantic heartbeats echoing in his eardrums, barely feel anything over the black veins crawling up his neck to his cheeks.
Kill. Kill, kill, kill.
He wants to kill. No, he can't kill. He needs to control it, needs to be in control. He won't give in, can't give in, can't kill. But he needs to. He needs to kill. He has to kill.
"It's… It's a qi deviation! Someone, anyone, hold him down!"
"Don't any of you dare to go near him! Leave him be! This is his just deserts for practising demonic cultivation, let him burn himself out and die!"
"Zixun, what are you saying? You know that I can't have him die here! A-Li is still waiting for him at Koi Tower. What do I tell her?"
"Wake up, Zixuan! This might be our best and only chance to get rid of this damned blight, and we can’t let it slip away both for the future of our Lanling Jin Sect and the entire cultivation world!”
“Enough! If you aren’t going to help then I’ll do it alone!”
Relentless shouts and roars come from all around Jiang Xichen, culminating into an ear-splitting crescendo of screams in the Yiling Patriarch’s head as tall monstrous shadows swarm around him. The muscles in their faces twist, shifting grotesquely into horrifying expressions. They howl, one after another, as they reach out to twine their unnaturally long arms around Jiang Xichen’s limbs, weighing them down.
Jiang Xichen breaks free, his palm pulsating with energy.
He won’t give in. He can’t give in. He won’t lose himself to them here. He won't lose to them anymore.
Zidian sizzles in his grip with his newfound resolve, bold and unrelenting, and Jiang Xichen lashes the spiritual weapon out towards the glint of yellow lunging straight at him, piercing the figure diagonally up from its abdomen in one single swift flick of his wrist.
Warmth splatters across half of Jiang Xichen’s face, searing and pungent as it trickles down his cheek and soaks into his robes.
Warmth?
Jiang Xichen draws his arm back in a hurry, only to hear a distinct wet squelch.
"..... back to your senses, A-Li is still waiting for you at… Koi Tower…" Jin Zixuan’s lips are moving, feebly forming syllables, but Jiang Xichen can no longer hear him, no longer process the words which the cultivator is uttering.
All that Jiang Xichen can focus on at this moment is the large, gaping hole at Jin Zixuan’s side—a wound so horribly huge that not even the strongest golden core can possibly mend in time.
As if on cue, Jin Zixuan then sways on his feet, his features twisting in pain before his legs finally give out and he collapses in a heap on the ground. He twitches twice in the crimson pool of blood, its shade eerily similar to the vermillion mark between his brows, and before long, the light in his eyes vanishes as though snuffed out.
Jiang Xichen jolts, pupils shrinking rapidly, as he takes a small trembling step backwards, away from Jin Zixuan’s corpse.
No.
No way.
It shouldn't be. It can't be.
This must be a dream. This has to be a dream. How else will he explain Jin Zixuan’s death? How else can he explain how he just single-handedly turned his sister into a widow?
“How…” Jiang Xichen sucks in a choked breath as he cradles his throbbing head. However, that merely smears Jin Zixuan’s blood on his hand against his face, which in turn tints the tears rolling down his cheeks pink. “I never wanted to… I never meant to…”
"You fucking murderer!" Jin Zixun charges straight at Jiang Xichen without a second thought. However, he does not even have the time to draw his sword before an uncontrolled whip of resentment energy cleaves his head off of his body.
Blood, there is blood everywhere.
Everyone is dying.
Everyone is dead.
He can’t control it. He can’t control it anymore.
Why can't he control it?
Because you've gone too long living in comfort on the Burial Mounds, playing house. You've forgotten that you are nothing more than a ticking time bomb, that your entire existence is dangerous and wretched.
Jiang Xichen presses a hand to his chest, over the dark core whirring inside it.
If this was the way things were fated to turn out, then why did he go through all these for? Why did he leave his sect? Why did he lock himself up on the Burial Mounds?
You should be asking yourself another question instead. Why did you choose to walk this path? Why did you make yourself into this monstrosity? What have you gained from it?
Nothing. He has gained absolutely nothing.
Jiang Xichen digs his fingers into the lapels of his robes, clawing desperately at them.
If only you didn’t choose this path.
If only he didn’t choose this path.
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
If only he didn’t choose to stay away. If only he did not get disheartened from Jiang Xichen’s rejection.
A flurry of demoralising thoughts race through Lan Wanyin’s mind as he directs another wave of spiritual energy into Sandu, urging it to fly even faster. Braving the stabs of sharp pain from the chilling wind against his cheeks, the Lan cultivator squints down into the inky darkness of the path en route from Yiling to Lanling, trying to find traces of an ambush.
"Zixun has left with a few hundred men to kill the Yiling Patriarch, and Zixuan has gone after him! We have to find a way to stop them before it is too late!"
Lan Wanyin clenches his jaw.
He was too rash, too impatient—frantically rushing out of Koi Tower immediately after overhearing only a portion of Lianfang-zun's conversation, and did not manage to catch exactly where the ambush was supposed to take place.
How will he make it in time to warn Xichen and Wei-xiong like this? Can he even still make it in time?
As if on cue, a deafening blast comes from the direction of Qiongqi Path, the explosive sound fulminating around the valley like a sharp resounding clap of thunder. Dark sprawling tendrils burst forth next, whipping a curve right through the valley before speeding skywards towards the unsuspecting Lan Wanyin, as though drawn by the latter's spiritual energy.
The white-clothed cultivator dodges reflexively, inclining his head to the side in the nick of time, but the gust of howling wind which follows almost rips him cleanly off of Sandu.
It's Xichen.
Lan Wanyin has no doubt that it is Jiang Xichen. There isn't anyone else who can command resentment energy quite the same way after all. However, there is something amiss.
He has never seen Jiang Xichen launch an attack on such a large scale before, even during the Sunshot Campaign when their lives were on the line each and every battle.
It's almost as if Jiang Xichen has lost control.
"Lan-xiong! It's a qi deviation!"
Lan Wanyin snaps his gaze down, zooming his attention in on a speck of purple just on the perimeter of Qiongqi Path—Wei Wuxian. The same tendrils are chasing the sect leader around as well, but instead of attacking, they appear to be merely trying to keep him out of the valley.
Does this mean that Jiang Xichen is still somewhat conscious?
Gritting his teeth, Lan Wanyin swoops down, evading a series of attacks which brush by him slightly too close for comfort, before he tugs a qiankun pouch out from his sleeve. In a flash, his qin materialises on the crook of his arm, and Lan Wanyin strums his forefinger across the seventh string, creating a note with a light timbre which pierces through the surrounding tendrils.
They fall back momentarily, flickering, and Lan Wanyin uses the opening created to play the first few notes of Cleansing.
A bolt of bright blue streaks forth with the rich tone, racing down to the crazed Jiang Xichen who is standing helplessly in the epicentre of the bloodied mess, clawing painfully at his chest. However, instead of relieving the demonic cultivator’s qi deviation, it causes a mouthful of blood to spill from his lips instead.
Jiang Xichen grows even more frenzied, the dark veins on his face prominent alongside his golden irises, and the resentment energy rides the turbulent fluctuation of the man’s emotions, turning even more wild and vicious as it condenses around him before exploding outwards all at once.
Lan Wanyin falls back immediately, soaring skywards with his sleeve raised for cover.
A chilling blast of frigid wind surges, swirling through the valley with a high-pitched howl as it brutally tears through the half-completed murals etched into the stone terrain. Weathered rocks of varying sizes break loose from the steep cliffs with the sudden impact and resulting tremors, tumbling down into the valley below.
An ocean of blood-curdling cries erupt from the few remaining survivors all at once, only to be mercilessly snuffed out one after another by the falling rocks.
"Ge!" Wei Wuxian shouts as he unsheathes Suibian and prepares to rush in, but Lan Wanyin is already there, swooping low and weaving through the projectiles to wind a hand tightly around Jiang Xichen’s waist.
Sandu dips with the added weight, and Lan Wanyin's eyes narrow with the effort to keep them both afloat.
"I won’t let go," Lan Wanyin grits out between clenched teeth, the sentence seeming more like a promise to himself than Jiang Xichen as he pours a vast expanse of spiritual energy into Sandu, turning the blade nearly completely white.
The taste of blood from overexertion is bitter against the Lan cultivator’s tongue, but he resolutely swallows down the iron tang saturating his mouth, and ascends in a single swift motion, bringing the pale and unconscious Jiang Xichen up with him to safety.
Notes:
1. Hour of xū (戌时): 19:00 Back
***
"It seems that everything has fallen into place even better than what you have predicted. With the cave-in at Qiongqi Path, only Suihua and some parts of the Jin Sect Heir’s mutilated body were reclaimed from under the rocks. Using just one simple plan to get rid of two nuisances—it seems I still have much more to learn from you, Lianfang-zun.”
Jin Guangyao's eyes, which have been reddened over the past few days of crying during his half-brother's funeral, seemingly regain their shine. "Su-gongzi, I am afraid I am unable to understand the meaning behind your words."
Su She pauses, then bows his head with a knowing smile. "My bad. I was just talking to myself. Too many things have happened recently. Even the strongest-willed people would have to take a moment to grieve for the loss of the talented Jin Sect Heir."
Jin Guangyao returns his smile. "Indeed. But rest assured that every cloud would have a silver lining. Since we lost the light of the cultivation world, it is a given that we will finally be able to snuff out the darkness next."
*₊°。 ❀°。°✿ FANART CORNER ✿° .❀。• *
Two versions of Xicheng hugging here and here (artist: Starlightgateway)
Chapter 32: Ramification VI
Notes:
Please be warned that this chapter contains gore, suicide, and major character death.
Chapter Text
<FLASHBACK>
Jiang Xichen jolts awake to the dark ceiling of the Demon-Slaughtering Cave.
He doesn’t know how he made his way back to the Burial Mounds, or how much time has passed since. In fact, it feels almost as though it were just another normal day, as though the terrible incident that happened at Qiongqi Path was just a mere vestige left behind by a fading nightmare—if not for the faint candlelight revealing the lingering traces of dried blood staining his hands.
It’s not a dream.
It wasn’t a dream.
He can still remember the sensation of piercing through flesh on his fingers, still hear the squelch of blood as he withdraws Zidian, still see the minute changes in Jin Zixuan’s expression as life slowly ebbs out of his eyes.
Jin Zixuan is dead. He killed Jin Zixuan.
Waves of hatred and self-disgust whirl within Jiang Xichen’s heart and leave him in the form of a loud, broken and anguished scream which carries out of the cave and down to the Wens at the foot of the mountain.
He has never allowed himself to display any emotional vulnerabilities in front of others before, because he had always believed that he must put on a strong front in order to appear reassuring, but Jiang Xichen finds that he does not have enough capacity remaining to concern himself with that anymore.
As far as Jiang Xichen himself is concerned, he has long since been standing at the edge of an abyss.
Just one more step, and he will be able to plunge down it. So hurry up, let him get it over and done with already.
It is way too agonising for him to continue living like this, to continue being a time bomb who never knows what might set him off, when he will lose control, or who he will kill next—and that irrational fear eats away at him, chips into his sanity, leaving behind only a heavy and dark gaze in the wake of the deafening silence that follows his earlier breakdown.
The candlelight flickers as the wax brims over and drips down freely, akin to tears mottling its side, and the resulting harsh shadows casted across Jiang Xichen’s features make him appear absolutely demented as an uncontrollable fit of crazed, maniacal laughter erupts from him.
What should he do from now on?
What can he do?
He killed the Jin Sect Heir. Even if he were to insist that it was an accident, his actions are still akin to a declaration of war, and with Wei Wuxian’s presence beside him that day, the Jins can easily use retaliation as a reason to storm up to Burial Mounds as well as siege Lotus Pier.
Even his sister, who has married into the Jin clan and taken on their name, might also be caught in the middle of this conflict—and the last thing Jiang Xichen wants is to force his kind-hearted sister to choose between the side that killed her husband, and the side which killed her brother.
So, he will make that choice for her.
“Jiang Xichen, are you insane?!” Wen Qing bellows when she hears of his decision to turn himself in. “I didn’t nurse you back to health for you to throw your life away like this!"
"I am not throwing my life away."
"You certainly are! What, did you think Jin Guangshan would welcome you with a steaming hot cup of tea and sit you down for a nice cosy chat? It's total pandemonium out there right now! What awaits you at Lanling will be none other than a public execution and you know it too!"
The Wens standing silently behind Wen Qing shuffle their feet nervously then, helplessly glancing at each other as though they have things to add on but do not know how to word them.
Jiang Xichen lets out a defeated sigh. "Even if I don't take the initiative to go to Koi Tower of my own accord, the Jins will surely send a missive to demand that sooner or later."
"Then let them send it. You are not the one who casted the Hundred Holes curse on Jin Zixun. There is no reason why you should become the scapegoat for this."
"You know exactly why I am doing this."
Wen Qing twists her trembling hands into Jiang Xichen’s lapels as tears of sorrow and frustration roll down her cheeks. "Why don't you think of yourself for once? We've been through war once and we can go through it again! We don't need or want you to sacrifice yourself for us!"
Jiang Xichen rakes his gaze slowly across the crowd behind her, taking in the sight of the purpling dark circles lining the undereye of every Wen as well as the way they are desperately gripping at their farming tools like they are weapons, before letting out another sigh. "It is not like you to be this swayed by your emotions, Wen Qing."
"And it is just like you to insist on playing the role of a selfless hero."
"This has nothing to do with me being altruistic. It is just inevitable. Haven't you been expecting this outcome since Jiangling? You were the one who predicted that the cultivation world will turn against me because of my unorthodox cultivation method after all. Why would you still be surprised at this point?"
In light of Jiang Xichen’s question, Wen Qing lowers her reddened eyes and releases her hold on his robes as if she had finally given up persuading him.
If it were any other day, Jiang Xichen would have likely hesitated then, but the man now simply takes a large step ahead, striding past her and the rest of the Wens without a second glance back.
"From now on, we will go our separate paths. None of you have to feel indebted to me anymore."
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
Missives for a pledge conference were sent out to each and every sect in the cultivation world following Jin Zixuan's passing, urging them all to convene at Koi Tower to condemn the Yiling Patriarch for the atrocities he had committed.
Nie Mingjue, who always had a strong sense of justice and a clear divide between black and white, immediately signed the pledge. Next, numerous leaders of smaller sects rushed over at once, eager to curry favour with both the esteemed Lanling Jin Sect and Qinghe Nie Sect—which in turn, made it difficult for the Gusu Lan Sect to refuse attendance.
Only Wei Wuxian, the acting sect leader of the Yunmeng Jiang Sect who had been known for his flippant attitude and wilful ways, remains kneeling beside Jiang Yanli, adamant on using this as an excuse to not attend the conference.
"A-Xian," Jiang Yanli finally says for the first time in several hours, her soft voice choked and hoarse, as she continues staring blankly straight ahead at the jet black coffin in the hall. “I could not ask you earlier when there were other people around but… did A-Huan really harm… was it really A-Huan who did it?"
"No way! Ge definitely wouldn't–"
The infant cradled in Jiang Yanli’s arms bursts into tears at once, wailing uncontrollably as he clutches at the hem of her sleeve, and Wei Wuxian finds a lump forming at the back of his throat.
"I'm sorry, Shijie. I did not witness it."
“I… see…” Jiang Yanli parts her chapped lips to take in a deep inhale. Yet, the corners of her eyes have reddened even before she finishes drawing that single breath. Then along with the breach in her composure, the corners of Jiang Yanli’s lips tremble and twist melancholically while her shaking body crumples in on itself.
It is the second time Wei Wuxian had ever seen such a look of utter despair on Jiang Yanli’s face—the first being when they recovered Jiang Fengmian and Yu Ziyuan’s ashes—and Wei Wuxian really doesn't want to witness such a heart-wrenching expression a third time.
"But I am certain that isn't Ge. It can't be him, Shijie. You know better than anyone else that Ge will never do anything to sadden you, and he understands just how important Jin Zixuan is to you."
"Then who? Who would do this? Whose ploy did A-Xuan and A-Huan fall into?"
Jiang Yanli pauses all of a sudden, as if she had just come to a realisation. Stiffly, she then rises slowly to her feet on numb legs, her body wavering slightly before she quickly steadies herself again.
"Shijie…?"
"A-Xian, you should head over to the pledge conference."
Wei Wuxian freezes in disbelief at Jiang Yanli’s comment, stunned. "But that conference is to condemn the Yiling Patriarch. If I show up, it will symbolise that the Yunmeng Jiang Sect is willing to stand against him too. How could I possibly do that to Ge?"
Jiang Yanli tightens her embrace around the snivelling Jin Ling, rocking the baby gently back and forth in her arms until he stops crying.
"All the more reason for you to go then. It is only by attending that you can attempt to persuade them from attacking A-Huan. Even if that were to fail, finding out their strategies beforehand will help A-Huan fend them off. We definitely can't allow A-Huan to be another person's scapegoat."
A scapegoat.
Wei Wuxian narrows his eyes. He understands the profound meaning behind Jiang Yanli’s statement at once—Jin Zixuan's death was likely planned, and once Wei Wuxian started viewing the event with that mindset, several inconsistencies begin surfacing immediately.
Jin Zixun's ambush and how adamant he was that Jiang Xichen was the one who performed the Hundred Holes curse on him; Jin Zixuan and Lan Wanyin's arrival at Qiongqi Path one after another, despite the prior arrangement to have them wait at Lanling just in case a distraction was needed to sneak Jiang Xichen into the compounds.
All these three events seem to be a simple chain of coincidences at first glance, but they are all likely to be meticulously planned to appear that way.
Yet, Wei Wuxian is unable to put a finger on who exactly would do such a terrible thing. Are they the true culprit behind the Hundred Holes curse? Furthermore, the deaths of Jin Zixuan and Jin Zixun aside, what would they potentially stand to gain from revealing the Yunmeng Jiang Sect’s continual dealings with the Yiling Patriarch? And how does luring Lan Wanyin to Qiongqi Path factor into the equation then?
"If they made the effort to do this, then they will definitely be at the conference to see the discussion through. Do you understand what I mean, A-Xian?”
Wei Wuxian’s breath catches.
In his memories, Jiang Yanli had always been timid and meek. She always wore an amicable smile on her face, always chose to go with the flow to maintain peace and harmony, always satisfied to merely stand on the sidelines and allow others to take the lead. However right now, the aura of the woman in front of Wei Wuxian is completely different. Her posture is straight, her expression resolute, and very reminiscent of Yu Ziyuan.
“Shijie, I–” Wei Wuxian begins, but is promptly interrupted by the doors to the hall swinging open. Jin-furen is dressed in a thin layer of coarse white fabric, and her tired swollen eyes rake over her son’s coffin before resting on Jiang Yanli.
“A-Li.” Jin-furen walks over and rests a concerned hand on her daughter-in-law’s shoulder. “I heard from the kitchen that you haven’t had your dinner yet. It has been three days. You won’t be able to hold up for long if you don’t at least eat something.”
Jiang Yanli lowers her gaze, her voice returning to its usual tender cadence. “Mother, I’m fine. I want to stay here with A-Xuan for a while longer. Besides, A-Xian just arrived in Lanling today. I also wish to speak to him a little more.”
Jin-furen casts a pointed glance over in Wei Wuxian's direction, keeping her gaze trained on the latter until he steps away, before turning back to Jiang Yanli with a sigh.
"What things are so important that you have to tell him now? Look, A-Li, he will have a lot of chances in the near future to come to our Lanling Jin Sect for conferences and meetings."
“But…”
“No buts. Even if you do not want to rest yet, you have to. If you fall ill, who will take care of A-Ling? Besides, I have already told that brat to make arrangements for all your favourite dishes."
Jiang Yanli pauses, frowning. “Do you mean… A-Yao? Hasn’t he been busy organising an event lately? When he came by yesterday, he looked quite exhausted.”
Jin-furen scoffs, rolling her eyes in disdain at the mention of her husband's illegitimate child. “You don’t have to worry yourself over that good-for-nothing. He's used to doing these chores back at his old place. In fact, that and bootlicking are about the only things he's good at."
Jiang Yanli lowers her gaze, clearly discomforted by Jin-furen's callous words, but is unable to articulate her thoughts in fear of angering her mother-in-law—and so Wei Wuxian decides to speak up for her.
“Aiya, Jin-furen, you can't be biased like that. No matter how much you dislike Lianfang-zun, you can't deny that he played a huge role in ending the Sunshot Campaign. Treating him in the same way as you would an errand boy is a little overboard, won't you agree?"
Jin-furen narrows her eyes at Wei Wuxian's insolence.
Although she has yet to show Wei Wuxian much hostility prior, her close friendship with Yu Ziyuan naturally meant that she never had a good impression of him in the first place. And that, when put together with how he is currently overstepping his boundaries and interfering with the Jin Sect's matters, is enough to make her cast aside all lingering forms of pleasantries.
Seeing that, Jiang Yanli hastily steps in.
“A-Xian, didn't you say that you had to go to the conference? Perhaps I should go with you and take the chance to greet the participating sect leaders. They took the time out of their busy schedules to come to Lanling and the last thing I want them to think is we are poor hosts."
Unaware that Jiang Yanli has already found out about the agenda of the pledge conference, Jin-furen reflexively tightens her grip on her daughter-in-law's shoulder at once.
To her, Jiang Yanli is a frail and mild-tempered woman who ended up hurting her health from excessive worrying during her pregnancy. The labour ended up being more dangerous than expected, with the negative impact to her health lasting well up until even now.
If Jiang Yanli were to hear about how the world is planning to condemn her biological brother…
Jin-furen shudders. "Absolutely not! The wind at night is chilly and you have not fully recovered from your cold yet, A-Li."
Her tone is brusque, her snappish words sharp and cutting in the silence, and they send the frightened Jin Ling bursting into tears. The loud wails take Jin-furen by surprise, and Jiang Yanli takes advantage of the commotion to direct a pointed look at Wei Wuxian.
He leaves then, reluctantly retracing his steps back to the large brick-paved square near the entrance to join the pledge conference. However, nothing can prepare the young sect leader for the look of utter shock and disappointment Lan Wanyin sends his way upon spotting him—and Wei Wuxian only has to glance towards the four embroidered flags propped up against the ostentatious altar in the middle of the square to understand the reason why.
The Jins have taken the initiative to fly the Yunmeng Jiang Sect's flag of their own accord, so as to show that the decision to oppose the Yiling Patriarch is unanimous amongst the Four Great Sects.
How sly! If Wei Wuxian did not show up today like he'd originally planned to, he would have never found out about this!
"Sect Leader Wei, I'm afraid we have no time to lose. The ceremony has to commence at an auspicious hour." Jin Guangyao obnoxiously cuts into Wei Wuxian’s field of vision, obstructing his view of the flag with an apologetic smile as he politely presents him with a cup of wine.
Meanwhile, Jin Guangshan walks right up to the altar, sucking in a huge grounding breath before raising the ceremonial liquor cup in his hand and pouring its contents in a line across the dirt.
“This cup of wine is to honour all the soldiers who have given their lives at Qiongqi Path. No matter their sect, no matter their surname, we will mourn their loss today and honour them for their heroic act of resistance against the vile Yiling Patriarch!"
A series of cheers explodes through the crowd. Jin Guangshan raises his hands, signalling for the people to be quiet before gesturing for the next sect leader to step forward.
Nie Mingjue strides up and pours the wine without any hesitation. “May their souls live on.”
Nodding, Jin Guangshan smiles expectantly at the next sect leader in line—Lan Wangji, only to have the white-robed cultivator remain steadfastly still, unwilling to even meet Jin Guangshan’s gaze.
“Sect Leader Lan?” Jin Guangyao is quick to call after noting the subtle darkening of his father’s countenance, preparing to make his way over to Lan Wangji when a sudden chuckle coming from behind interrupts him.
The peal of raucous laughter that follows is too untimely, sounding both stark and jarring, and its hair-raising timbre makes the surprised Jin Guangyao come to a halt.
"Sect Leader Wei? Is something the matter…?”
Wei Wuxian raises the cup in his hand, holding it high so every single person in the square can see him. Then, he tilts his head back and downs the liquor in a single gulp!
“What good wine! It would be a loss to simply pour it all away, don't you think?" Ignoring the judgemental stares from the masses, Wei Wuxian takes sure steps towards the solemn white-robed Lan sect leader and snatches the cup out from Lan Wangji's hand, drinking it as well. "Oh? I'll daresay that it's almost as good as Emperor's Smile!"
Jin Guangshan’s pupils shrink, his expression turning stern and displeased. "Wei Wuxian! How dare you disrespect this ceremony? Do you understand the meaning behind that cup of wine?!"
The other sect leaders join in, pointing accusatory fingers at Wei Wuxian. Yet amidst their slew of undignified wails, Wei Wuxian’s expression does not change in the slightest.
"Of course I do. But if you think about it, isn't it rude to simply reduce our honouring of them to mere meaningless oaths and several cups of wine?"
"Meaningless?!" Sect Leader Yao thunders from within the crowd. "How can you call this meaningless? We are here to make a pact to stand up against the Yiling Patriarch, to take revenge for everyone who has fallen to his villainous ways!"
Scoffing, Wei Wuxian tosses the ceremonial cup over his shoulder. It shatters on impact, the sound effectively shutting Sect Leader Yao up.
"Interesting. Then let me ask, since you claim that this oath is not a farce, tell me what you intend to do after this pledge conference? How will you help stand up against the Yiling Patriarch?"
"I–" Sect Leader Yao stutters, wringing his hands together nervously. "I will lend whatever support is needed. I will do whatever the Four Great Sects wishes from my sect!"
"Oh? So that means you have no concrete plan."
"That's… That can't be helped, can it? After all, the Yao Sect is but a small sect!"
"Since you know your position so well, then you should also have known that this is not a place where someone of your level can speak up."
"Sect Leader Wei, pardon my rudeness, but since you have posed this question to Sect Leader Yao, I am curious as to how you intend to aid our cause as one of the Four Great Sects then. Would you be leading the siege yourself?"
Wei Wuxian casts a brief glance in the direction of the voice, a hint of annoyance veiling his face. The one who spoke up is a young cultivator who he had absolutely no recollection of.
“I told Sect Leader Yao to stay silent, but to think that an even less significant person would think that it is their chance to speak up. Well then, to answer your question, the Yunmeng Jiang Sect does not intend to join in thesiege, because–”
“–because a siege is not necessary at all.”
Wei Wuxian spins around on his heel upon hearing the familiar voice, only to see a black-robed youth standing behind him. The sheer veil around the brim of his hat dutifully conceals most of his facial features, but unfortunately, the wisteria pouch hanging from his waist belt is a dead giveaway to his identity.
“It’s the Yiling Patriarch! The Yiling Patriarch, Jiang Xichen!”
Within an instant, a large circle forms around the uninvited intruder.
Everyone tightens the grip on the hilt of their sword, eyeing Jiang Xichen warily as the man reaches up slowly to remove his hat, revealing a complexion so pale that it makes the two purpling dark circles under his eyes and the shadows shrouding his gaunt visage stand out prominently.
“Ge…” Wei Wuxian breathes, his voice soft with disbelief. However, Jiang Xichen does not even meet his eyes. Instead, his gaze is trained on Jin Guangshan, who is standing a safe distance away, with a degree of fear clouding his ashen expression.
"There is no need for a siege, because I am here to turn myself in. I was the one who killed your son and nephew, so I am willing to take any amount of punishment or torture as you deem fit. All I ask is that you spare the Wens living on Burial Mounds. The people living there are mostly the elderly and none of them have taken a single life—both during and after the Sunshot Campaign."
Someone hidden within the crowd finds bravery in numbers and spits venomously at Jiang Xichen. “I don’t fucking get it. Just what great kindness have the Wen-dogs given you? Why are you on the scum’s side time and time again?!”
“In my opinion, there isn’t any great kindness at all. It’s just pure arrogance. He is drunk off of power and thinks that he’s a hero if he sides with the losing faction and fights against the entire world. Just listen to how he speaks about the Wen-dogs at every turn. He obviously thinks he is doing an act of justice, that he is impressive for helping the weak, while the rest of us are villainous for condemning the people who ruthlessly slaughtered our wives and children without batting an eyelid!”
Upon hearing this accusation, Jiang Xichen’s fingers, hidden beneath the coarse dark fabric of his sleeves, twitch slightly, as if he wants to clench them into fists, but he resists the urge, choosing to remain silent instead.
He will accept all the curses the crowd flings at him, because it is what he deserves.
He was the one who lost control, the one who killed at Qiongqi Path. Those people, as insignificant as they might appear, still had families and loved ones, had people who would mourn them; and Jiang Xichen knows from personal experience how unbearable it is to wake up every morning knowing that someone precious in your life will never return, to go to sleep at night with a void in your heart which you know will never be filled again.
Jiang Xichen has matured with the mental fortitude to take any insults tossed his way in stride—and it is always up to Wei Wuxian to fling insults back with his notorious reputation of being more immature and unruly.
“If you are talking about people killing without batting an eyelid, then wouldn’t the same go for the people who planned an ambush at Qiongqi Path? A hundred cultivators ganging up on a single unarmed person is hardly fair, wouldn’t you say? Besides, if everything went according to Jin Zixun’s plan, then the one who would be slaughtered in cold blood would be the Yiling Patriarch. Would you be calling Jin Zixun villainous then?”
“Sect Leader Wei… that’s… you can’t side with the Yiling Patriarch just because he was from the same sect as you!”
“I’m not siding with anyone, I’m simply stating the contradictions I found.”
“It might be contradictory, but what you were suggesting is completely unreasonable!”
Wei Wuxian folds his arms with a haughty scoff. “Unreasonable? How?”
“See, even if Jin Zixun was the one who schemed to ambush the Yiling Patriarch first, they ultimately didn’t take his life. In the end, the one who was heartless and killed hundreds is still Jiang Xichen! If taking so many lives without reason doesn’t show how heartless and cold-blooded he is, I don’t know what else will!”
Suddenly, a careful voice interjects. “That’s not entirely right of you to say, is it? The venue and circumstances matter too. The Yiling Patriarch was faced with an ambush so he fought back. Him claiming the lives of so many disciples is indeed going overboard, but at the end of the day, is it not just for self-defence?”
Wei Wuxian inclines his head, glancing over at the female cultivator who spoke up against her superior. She has fair, delicate features which are relatively memorable, yet Wei Wuxian has absolutely no recollection of the righteous lady, or at the very least, he'd think they were not close enough for her to throw her reputation out of the window like this—because as expected, her out-of-place comment immediately causes her to be the new target of the other cultivators nearby.
“Ridiculous! You’re almost laughable, Luo Qingyang! Self-defence? What a boatload of utter bullshit! Don’t tell me you’re going to say that he’s right to have killed our people next!”
“I–”
“You, you, you what? Ha, do you even hear yourself? That’s why they say that women will always be women.”
Luo Qingyang fumes, a frown forming on her face. “I’m just pointing out facts as they stand. What has that got to do with my gender? You can’t be rational with me so you’re attacking me with other things?”
The man she is speaking to scowls back at her. “Irrational, that’s what you are! If we go by your logic, then the ambush is just self-defence on Jin Zixun’s part. So, when it comes down to it, the person who put such a vile curse on Jin Zixun is to be blamed, therefore, the Yiling Patriarch is just reaping what he sowed!”
“Reaping what he sowed is too much, don’t you think? May I know, just what evidence do you have which can prove that my younger brother is the one who placed the curse?”
Hearing the familiar voice accompanied by the series of soft footsteps coming up from behind him, Jiang Xichen who had remained relatively silent and composed on the surface, finally displays a sliver of expression on his countenance, alongside the small budding hope in his heart.
His sister is here. His sister is speaking up for him.
Perhaps that means she doesn’t hate him, or doesn’t entirely blame him—however, Jiang Xichen is still unable to find the courage to turn around and meet her eyes.
How could he possibly, after all that he’d done?
"Do you have any evidence to prove that he isn't the one who placed the curse?"
Jiang Yanli presses her lips into a firm, resolute line. "Pardon me if I am mistaken, but isn't innocent until proven guilty how we do things around here? Besides, if you wish to go down this path of debate, then wouldn't everyone here simply be on the same page? None of us are able to produce any evidence to show that we are not the one who placed the curse."
The man drops his jaw in a mix of shock and anger. “I… We… You might not know but your brother bears great enmity to Jin Zixun. They have gone head to head many times in our meetings and gatherings.”
"In my opinion, an obvious direct involvement might not always be the answer. Sometimes, crimes are committed for reasons outside of hatred or passion. A murder to prove one's worth to another, or as a stepping stone for a larger plan… all these aren't unthinkable, are they?"
The man scoffs, his frigid tone as sharp as ice. "Not unthinkable, but it’s certainly not something we commonly see around except in novels. That being said, if there really is someone who's such a great schemer, I'd love to meet them!"
All around him, the rest of the mob bursts out into mocking peals of muffled laughter too. Only Jin Guangyao steps forward with a solemn expression on his face.
"Since you have publicly said this hypothesis with such certainty, I am sure you must have your suspicions on who the mastermind could be. If so, please tell us who the individual is."
Jiang Yanli wavers then, the determination in her eyes warping into uncertainty.
"Lianfang-zun, you might not know because you’re still unmarried, but women like to gossip all the time. The best thing to do is just to ignore whatever they say, haha!"
"I am afraid I can't do that. This entire affair not only claimed the precious life of our esteemed sect heir but also incurred many losses to our Jin Sect. I have the responsibility of pursuing all leads and getting to the bottom of the matter. So, please."
Jiang Yanli falters. "Unfortunately, I… I don't have anyone I can say with certainty that I suspect yet…"
"Huh! So it truly is all merely a farce! Genuinely, I thought better of you. There used to be a time when I even admired you because you stood up for your sect during the Phoenix Mountain Hunt. I thought you were a righteous person who would side with the good and honest regardless of their position or background, but now that I think about it, you were just being biased even back then! To think that you would even cast aside your feelings for your husband and warp the facts around his death just to protect your younger brother. I have never met someone quite as shameless and repulsive as you!”
Jiang Yanli swallows thickly in the face of the unwarranted insults tossed her way, her slight frame trembling like a lone leaf trapped in a storm.
Wei Wuxian drives the end of Suibian’s sheath harshly into the rude youth’s jugular notch, sending him sprawling backwards with a spittle of blood and loud, pained coughs.
A boy next to the injured youth immediately rushes over. “Brother! Brother!”
The leader of that sect activates a defensive array at once, using it as a barrier in between the members of his sect and Wei Wuxian. Many other sects also follow suit, throwing the entire arena into chaos as they begin isolating themselves from the Yunmeng siblings.
Jiang Xichen lowers his gaze to the ground.
Enough. It’s enough. There is no need for anyone to try to protect him anymore. There is no need for anyone to try to go against him anymore either. It no longer matters if he is at fault or otherwise, not when everything has already come to this.
Nothing matters to him anymore.
All he wants now is to be gone, to disappear, to cease to exist.
All he wants now is to die.
“Weren’t all of you so keen when discussing about leading a siege up to Burial Mounds earlier? Now that I have shown up myself and saved everyone the trouble of making the trip to Yiling, why does it seem like none of you are interested in killing me anymore?”
Nie Mingjue narrows his eyes. “What arrogance. Did you think we are at your beck and call?” He continues speaking in a cold voice. “Killing you right here would be easy, but who knows what dirty tricks you might have up your sleeve.”
"Now that I think about it, didn't he keep telling us to spare the Wens? What if the Stygian Tiger Seal is on Burial Mounds and the Wens there are plotting something?"
"Yeah, that will totally explain why he is here, readily giving up his life. It's all a trap! He is definitely plotting something together with the Wen-dogs, and when we fall for it, he'll take us all out in one fell swoop!"
Jin Guangshan clears his throat. “There’s no other way then. If you want us to give the Wens a chance to live, then you have to hand over the seal now!”
Jiang Xichen lets out a long, tired exhale as he slowly drags his glance across the masses. He pauses on the sight of Lan Wanyin, feeling a twinge in his chest, before meeting Jin Guangshan’s gaze. “I have already said this countless times: there is no seal.”
“Do you take us for fools?!” Jin Guangshan slams his hands down on the altar. “Set up the battle arrays! We won’t let him leave here alive today no matter what!”
"Please wait!" Jiang Yanli exclaims, her voice the loudest anyone present had ever heard as she throws herself in front of Jiang Xichen, her arms spread wide protectively. She doesn’t know what to say next, she doesn’t know what she can say, but under such circumstances, Jiang Yanli just feels like she has to say something, has to stand up for this brother of hers once more.
"Open your eyes, A-Li. The one behind you is no longer your brother, but a monster who killed your husband! If we allow this cold-blooded murderer to get away scot-free today, there is no saying what he might do tomorrow!"
There is no longer any of his glimpse of hesitation or cowardice in Jin Guangshan's tone, but despite this, the undaunted Jiang Yanli still sets her jaw determinedly.
"My brother… A-Huan would definitely never kill anyone of his own volition!"
Like a bucket of ice-cold water, her words douse the vile flames of self-hatred raging within Jiang Xichen's heart.
"A-Jie…"
His voice is shaking, his vision blurry with tears, as he reaches a trembling hand out to his sister's back—to that frail frame which he had always felt a pressing need to shield, and yet he is the one getting protected all the time lately.
You're not worth it.
I am not worth it.
Jin Guangshan's gaze hardens. "The young Jin-furen appears to have fallen ill from grief and is spouting illogical nonsense. Escort her back to her room, A-Yao."
Jin Guangyao freezes. His eyes widen almost comically while glancing in between his father and sister-in-law, as though he cannot believe he is being forced to make a choice right there and then.
"A-Yao!" Jin Guangshan thunders.
Jin Guangyao sets his jaw and takes a step forward, towards Jiang Yanli. He doesn't have a say in this political quagmire, not when it involves his father and a position of status in the Lanling Jin Sect.
He can't afford to lose everything he'd spent so long building up, not when he is this close to fulfilling his mother's wish for him to be accepted as a Jin and become someone of importance in the sect.
"I'm sorry, please understand," he whispers to Jiang Yanli, grabbing her by the wrist, only for Jiang Yanli to wrench her arm ruthlessly out of his grip.
She takes several steps away from him and Jiang Xichen both. "I am sorry, but please understand my stance too. A-Huan is my younger brother. No matter what, I cannot allow anyone to hurt him more than they already have."
Jin Guangyao's countenance darkens ominously at her words.
"You filthy traitor!" someone screams and almost immediately following that, a fletched arrow whizzes through the air, piercing Jiang Yanli in the chest and lodging itself between two of her ribs. The unexpected impact knocks the frail woman off her feet, sending her sprawling backwards. Everyone stands unmoving for a moment, stunned into silence, and Jiang Xichen is the first to rush to her side, gathering his sister into his arms.
"A-Jie? A-Jie!"
She grimaces, wincing, as the front of her coarse white mourning robes is dyed red within the next few seconds. A ceaseless stream of warm scarlet oozes out from the wound, seeping in between the gaps of Jiang Xichen’s trembling fingers as he presses down around the injury on her bosom.
No, this can't be true. There can't possibly be this much blood.
"Shijie!" Wei Wuxian scrambles over frantically too and presses his hands down atop Jiang Xichen's, trying to pass her his spiritual energy, but it barely does anything to staunch the blood flow.
"Someone, anyone, please pass her spiritual energy!" Jiang Xichen yells, his voice cracking with desperation. Yet, nobody around them moves even a single muscle.
Jiang Yanli draws a shallow breath, her chest rising feebly. She parts her lips to speak next, but merely lets out a wet cough and a mouthful of frothy blood.
“Don’t speak. Please don’t speak,” Jiang Xichen pleads, as he glances rapidly between the wound and his sister’s ashen face. He had never seen her looking this pale before, to the point that Jiang Xichen can vividly see the capillaries at the corners of her reddened eyes which slowly flutter close.
Fear sparks within Jiang Xichen, contorting his insides in a way which leaves him queasy. Everything begins sounding unbearably far and removed from him all of a sudden, and the only thing he can grasp in the moment is the neverending wails in his head as well as the sensation of putrid decaying flesh pressing against the tips of his fingers as he crawls through a mound of bodies with sheer willpower.
"A-Huan…” Jiang Yanli calls weakly, and her voice snaps him out from his stupor. “Stop first… no matter what, you should stop first… Promise me that…"
Tears blur Jiang Xichen's vision as his sister's laboured breathing grows weaker and increasingly irregular. He steadies his emotions with great effort, reeling the miasma in. "I'll promise anything. I'll promise you anything, A-Jie, so please. Please open your eyes."
"I… A-Ling… You must……"
Jiang Xichen feels shivers go down his spine when he sees the life fizzle out of her dark eyes.
For a long moment, he stares in disbelief at his sister’s corpse, whose head had already dipped limply to the side. Then, as though possessed, he roughly heaves Jiang Yanli up from the ground, and clutches her tightly to his chest.
“Why…?” Jiang Xichen says, his voice strangled and broken.
Why did his sister die? Why did she have to die?
Anyone else could have died. Anyone else! Why her?
“Why her!” Jiang Xichen roars. His molten amber eyes glow an eerily bright shade of golden as numerous black vessels run up the column of neck to the corners of his eyes. "Why did you kill her?!"
Dark tendrils burst forth with his bitter scream, rushing forward with an unprecedented speed.
Lan Wanyin sprints over without hesitation, no longer caring about appearance or mannerisms, as he shoves the individuals blocking his path away one by one. However, before he is even halfway to his destination, Jiang Xichen has already caught the escaping archer and impaled him right through his torso, crushing the bottom half of the boy’s ribcage and tearing through the soft tissues of his internal organs.
A white-haired sect leader steps forward, brandishing his weapon at Jiang Xichen. “That boy was innocent! He was just trying to avenge his brother! Your sect’s… Your shidi, Wei Wuxian, hurt him!”
“Innocent? Is that what you call murderers now?”
“You! I’ve never met anyone as shameless as you! Back then… you caused the deaths of Jiang Fengmian and his wife, and now you caused the death of Jiang Yanli. But instead of learning from your mistakes, you chose to claim yet another life and smear the poor boy’s reputation even after his death. Jiang Xichen, your vile crimes shall never be forgiven!”
“Hahahaha…” Jiang Xichen doubles over and dissolves into a cacophony of dissonant laughter. He laughs so hard until he almost can’t breathe, until tears roll down his cheeks, until his chuckles turn into strangled sobs which wreak through his body.
“I said there is no seal. I said I had nothing to do with Jin Zixun’s curse. Why don’t you believe me? Why won’t you believe me? Why wouldn’t anyone believe me?!”
Your question should be: why should anyone believe you?
What have you done to make them trust you?
Murderer.
Clutching at his head, Jiang Xichen unfurls the solidified resentment energy and sends it lashing outward and upward, shattering through rows of defensive arrays to slam unceremoniously into the unfortunate cultivators nearby and flinging them backwards.
Shut up. Don't call him that. Shut up!
Suddenly, the limpid notes of a qin slices through the night, accompanied by a flash of stark snow-white robes amidst the inky darkness.
However, it is already much too late. No matter how hard Lan Wanyin might try, his feeble attempts can no longer cut through the primal chaos whirling in Jiang Xichen's head.
It is cold, so terribly cold.
Taking a step backwards, Jiang Xichen winds a hand around the wisteria pouch, desperately seeking a source of warmth to rival the biting frost creeping up his digits, but to no avail.
There is no salvation for someone like him.
There will never be salvation for a demon like him.
If there will no longer be any salvation for you, then why hold back anymore?
Yes, why is he still holding back?
There is no longer anything left for him to protect, is there?
Jiang Xichen tilts his head back and begins to laugh again, looking absolutely demented with tears running freely down his cheeks. Then, as if possessed, he rips the white jade pendant out of the wisteria pouch—the item which had stolen everything away from him, and yet ironically, it is also this same item which had kept him sane for the longest time.
How laughable!
How utterly ridiculous!
Jiang Xichen clenches down on the jade token in his palm, shattering it with his bare hand before everyone’s eyes. The activated array which had been holding the very last bit of his sanity together breaks along with it.
Four hundred years of culminated, condensed resentment energy surges forward all at once, bringing with it a loud howl that consumes all of Jiang Xichen's senses entirely—and the man gladly allows it to, as he finally slips his weary lids close.
.
.
.
.
.
.
“A-Huan.”
It is his sister's voice.
His sister is here. His sister is calling him.
He should respond to her, should kneel down and grovel and beg for forgiveness, but he can't. His body is far too heavy, too lethargic, and he can't even move a single muscle to form words.
There is a heavy weight atop his chest, crushing down on his lungs, making it painful to even breathe.
–chen… Xichen…… ge…
Xichen-ge…
The warmth enveloping him trembles, then shifts, drawing him even closer, hugging him even tighter.
"A-Huan. Remember, A-Jie will always be on your side, no matter what.”
No, don't. Don’t side with me. Don’t stand up for me.
I don’t want you to die. I don’t want to see you die again.
Just go away, leave me alone.
Please, I beg you… say something…
Get lost.
I’m sorry, I–
Get lost.
Let’s redo it all over again, move to a remote area, alright? …will be no Qishan Wen Sect, no territorial wars, no sect duties…… us, just us… so please… p–
Get lost.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Jiang Xichen's head is blank. He doesn't know how long has passed before his eyes finally shoot open again. However what greets him is not the luxurious golden pillars of the Lanling Jin Sect or the dusty dirt roads of Qiongqi Path, but the dark ceiling of a small, unfamiliar cave.
There is no one else around, no hints of any other sounds except for the tortured shrieks echoing relentlessly over and over again within the deepest recesses of his mind.
Save me… Someone, anyone, please… save… god, if you exist, please……
Have mercy! I have a wife and daughter to feed at home, please don—
We are proud soldiers! We do not waver before the enemy!
M-M-Monster!!! Sect Leader, the beast, it's a giant tortoise!!
General! I have an urgent report! The enemy has broken through our frontline defences. We have already lost three cities and an entire battalion. Their corpses are piled so high it forms a mound…
Try me. If it's for revenge, I can do absolutely anything.
You filthy beggar! How dare you steal from me, huh? Disgusting tramp, take this! And this! If you show your face around here again, I'll fucking beat you to death, you hear me?!
Kill, kill them all. You have to kill them all.
Did you know? This iron sword is my pride and joy. It was forged by my best friend and I promised him that I will bring it along to slay evil as I travel the world to get stronger. But there's no point anymore, is there? In the end, I'm still too weak. I wasn't here to protect him, and I can't even slay the beast that killed him! Hahahahaha!!! Why… Why did I… Why do I……
A flash of silvery moonlight filters down through a hole above, gone as quickly as it had appeared, and Jiang Xichen stumbles to his feet instantly, bracing himself against the wall as he hobbles towards the vine at the entrance he'd caught a brief glimpse of.
It is an underground cave. But where exactly is it located? Wasn't he at Lanling?
No, wait. Is he even sure he went to Lanling? What if it is all merely a dream? What if– What if his sister is still alive?
A spittle of blood makes its way up Jiang Xichen's constricted, parched throat, saturating his mouth with the dense taste of copper, inducing him to recoil immediately, wincing.
No, everything that happened can't possibly be a dream. Not when his entire body is aching like this, not when the voices are this loud, not when the familiar weight of Lan Wanyin's jade token is no longer hanging from his waist belt.
Gritting his teeth firmly against the debilitating pain pounding at his chest and palm, Jiang Xichen then determinedly puts one hand before the other on the vine and climbs up as fast as he physically can. He squeezes an arm through the tiny gap where the moonlight had shone through previously and uses it as leverage to nudge the heavy obstacle at the entrance away, before heaving himself up through the widened space into a familiar world of dark, cloying miasma.
Resentment energy! This has to be the Burial Mounds then.
How and when did he get back?
Pressing a hand to his throbbing head, Jiang Xichen takes a step forward, only to freeze when he hears an ominous squelch.
Warily, he then peers down, and a face which he recognises stares back up at him with vacant eyes.
Uncle Four is lying face up on the dirt ground before him, his complexion waxen and mouth agape in a frozen scream.
There is a large gaping wound gouged into the man's side, a crusted mess of dried blood and pus that lines the contused edge of the injury running from the bottom of his crushed rib cage to the top of his pelvic bone.
There is no longer any fresh blood oozing out from under the speckled sheet of stringed flesh, but in its place is a pulpy clump of innards and intestines which are strewn along the entrance of the cave which Jiang Xichen had just exited from.
So the obstacle that he'd moved earlier was…
The sickeningly bitter taste of bile fills his mouth and Jiang Xichen doubles over, retching. The acid burns his throat on its way up, however, the pain it causes pales in comparison to the stabs of intense pain along the crown of his head and the prickling tears blurring his vision.
Did he do this? Just like how he killed his parents back then, did he… once again…?
Jiang Xichen curls his fingers digging his nails into the dark, rotting soil atop the Burial Mounds.
No, he wasn't the one who killed his parents. It was Wen Chao. Wen Chao tortured and mutilated them right in front of him.
It was Wen Chao who did it, not him.
It was Wen Chao who killed them, not him.
It was him, not Wen Chao.
Jiang Xichen heaves, crawling forward through the muck on all fours. In the field of shrivelled crops ahead, he finds Granny Wen's mutilated body amongst a pile of dismembered body parts. Her arm has been cleanly cut off at the shoulder joint, the heavy yet precise bladework reminiscent of Gusu Lan's technique, and Jiang Xichen finds himself choking on the sickly sweet scent of decay.
"Wen Qing…" he finally croaks out after a long moment, straining to hear her voice through the endless waves of screams threatening to split his head into two.
He hasn't found her body yet.
There might be a chance she is still alive.
After all, she's a gifted medic and a competent cultivator. If there is anyone who is able to survive whatever this is, it has to be her.
Swallowing down the lump at the back of his throat, Jiang Xichen hurriedly pushes himself back up onto his feet and hobbles down along the mountain path.
He can't hear much other than the voices in his head, but he can distinctly smell the scent of ruin and the odour of blood—a vile combination which is reminiscent of the period he had spent on the frontlines of the Sunshot Campaign.
It is the scent of war.
Mother, I'm tired and starving! How much more must we walk before we find Father?
Listen, I'll run out and draw the soldiers away. Once their attention is on me, you start running in the opposite direction, got it? Don't be scared. We will survive this war together.
Have you experienced what getting burned alive feels like? Your skin will feel as though it is melting. It will begin flaking, slough away, and then the worst part comes. It starts shrinking, suffocating you. The air you breathe in becomes unbearably hot, each inhale scalds you from the inside out and pains you from your mouth down to your gut. And then, suddenly, everything just all ends there. You stop feeling pain altogether.
It is the scent of fire, the unmistakable stench of burnt flesh.
Jiang Xichen slows to a complete stop.
There is a large pyre constructed at the bottom of Burial Mounds, sending columns of billowing smoke up into the sky where they then meld together with the large swirling clouds of resentment energy.
A large number of figures are at the base of the pyre, some of them squirming and struggling to crawl away as the flames lick up their calves, while others have long since been reduced to unrecognisable lumps of charred flesh—and as Jiang Xichen watches, a group of Jin cultivators file in with several mangled Wen bodies, tossing them straight into the fire.
The flames dance, leaping higher with the offer of new fuel, and the cultivators gathered around the pyre cheer.
Their robes of varying shades and patterns mix together, appearing akin to a boiling concoction of colours which toss and turn, part and join, yet Jiang Xichen’s attention is solely drawn by the few white-robed cultivators speckled within the chaotic mess, as they move aside to reveal a bloody lump tied to a tree.
“Toss the witch Wen Qing into the fire too! We will offer her soul to those who were killed during the Sunshot Campaign!”
"Let fire cleanse the sins from these Wen-dogs!"
Wen Qing's head lolls limply backwards as they drag her corpse across the uneven ground towards the pyre. A trail of blood and guts forms behind her, oozing slow and thick from the festering lacerations at her abdomen and the depression to the crown of her head.
Jiang Xichen falls heavily to his knees.
No. Not again. Not this again.
He'll beg. He'd beg.
He'd gladly beg anyone to spare his family, so please. Please just tell him what he needs to do, what they want him to do.
Roaring flames creep up Wen Qing's limbs when they toss her into the fire, resembling the motifs she had used to wear on her old robes—the very same ones she had casted aside when she came to the Burial Mounds, yet the notorious reputation of the Wens continues to cling desperately to her.
Your past shapes you, turns you into who and what you are today, and it will continue to do so. You can never run away from your past. It will continue chasing you over and over and over again, until you die.
Regret is akin to a sharp blade—eating into flesh, cutting into bone, drilling into marrow, and Jiang Xichen recoils, gasping for breath.
Pain flares through every inch of him, from his veins down to his meridians, and the sharp coldness that follows immediately alongside the flare of his tumultuous emotions is as frigid as the man's frozen heart itself.
Fire. Fire is snaking up wooden pillars, sprawling through Lotus Pier, engulfing everything in its path. The orange tongues are twining hungrily up the bodies of the younger disciples, consuming Yunxiao's body and turning it into a gruesomely dark crisp.
"Jiang Xichen, did you know that seeing someone being burned alive is the most entertaining thing ever? The way they scream, the way their skin peels, the way they all inevitably fall silent—but you should kneel down and thank me for my benevolence because I killed them first. I spared them from that agony because you begged. Aren't you thankful? Say, aren't you thankful?"
Wen Chao. Wen Chao. Wen Chaowenchaowenchao–
Disgusting.
He'll kill him. He swears he'll kill him. He will kill all the Wens, slaughter every last one of them like they slaughtered his family.
No, he will beg instead.
He will beg harder this time round, so please, don't burn his home again. Don't destroy what little he has left.
The thick haze of miasma on the Burial Mounds gravitates to Jiang Xichen as though drawn by an invisible force, resonating with the dark core in him and pressing down harshly on his heart and lungs. His vision swims, his breaths come in short spurts, his limbs feel unbearably heavy, yet the man still forces himself to take a shaky step forward towards the crowd of cheering cultivators.
Gusu Lan. The righteous and upstanding sect which sides with justice and protects the weak.
Gusu Lan. The brutal and devious sect which played a part in killing the elderly and slaughtering the unarmed Wen remnants.
"Gusu Lan!" Jiang Xichen snarls, the guttural growl that rips its way out of his throat sounding more beast than man. "You hypocrites!"
A dark ominous crescent of malefic energy surges forth from the very ends of his fingertips, swirling around the Yiling Patriarch like a wild tempest before rippling through the air and slamming straight into the first white-robed disciple closest to him.
The man flies backwards from the direct impact, and the middle of his back meets the thick tree bark behind him with a devastatingly loud crack before he collapses face down in a heap on the ground and vomits blood out from his mouth.
The alarmed cultivators around the injured man immediately draw their swords, brandishing their spiritual weapons and talismans while the less experienced cultivators from smaller sects begin panicking at the sight of the Yiling Patriarch.
Screams sound all around Jiang Xichen. But unfortunately, he is no longer able to clearly differentiate which ones come from his surroundings and which ones exist solely inside his head.
He is muddled, crippled, and every inhale he takes simply hurts. Burns him down to his core. Consumes him. Petrifies him.
Burning. Hurting. Throbbing. Freezing. Stabbing. Killing. Killing. Killing.
Jiang Xichen screams, the tone broken and disconcerting. He tears at his lapels, clawing his nails down the front of his robes with an urgency.
There are far too many people yelling at him, far too many noises, too many words. He needs it to stop. He wants it to stop. He wants everything to stop.
"Jiang Xichen!"
The echoes of two strums on a stringed instrument come from directly overhead, accompanied by a staggering amount of spiritual energy falling down upon the demonic cultivator. The intention had been to cleanse and curb the qi deviation, but the corruption had gone too far for it to work anymore. Instead, the contact between yin and yang merely sparks a flare of pain which further exacerbates Jiang Xichen’s inability to maintain his slivers of sanity.
“Lan Wanyin!”
Wanyin wouldn’t.
He knows Wanyin wouldn’t kill the Wens. He knows Wanyin wouldn’t try to kill him.
But why is he here then? Why is Gusu Lan here?
The colour of Jiang Xichen’s irises flicker rapidly between golden and crimson. Blood spills from his qiqiao, leaking down the man’s cheeks as he reels backwards, stumbling around while clutching desperately at his chest.
It hurts. It hurts so much. It hurts too much.
What can he do to make the voices stop?
What must he do to make the voices stop?
“Don’t fucking… him escape!”
“...no mercy for the criminal… surround him—”
Shut up, shut up, shut up. Stop screaming. Stop yelling.
A-Huan.
Jiang Xichen’s breath catches.
“Return him to me!”
Jiang Xichen hears the wet squelch before he feels the lance of pain from the sword piercing into and through his back. The old scar he’d suffered all those years ago in Lotus Pier rips open anew once more, and Jiang Xichen immediately flinches, gasping for breath.
He stumbles forward, trying to pull the blade out, but the unnamed assailant mercilessly thrusts the blade in further.
Jiang Xichen turns. He recognises the boy from his periphery—the same boy who Wei Wuxian had knocked out for bad-mouthing his sister, and the same boy whose brother he'd killed at Lanling Jin in the name of revenge.
“Return my brother to me, you murderous monster.”
"If I return your brother to you, will he return my sister to me?"
"Do not compare my brother to your wretched sister!"
Jiang Xichen’s expression darkens at once. Zidian crackles to life around his forefinger, shifting into its whip form and flinging the helpless youth across the barren ground in a single powerful strike. "What did you say?!"
How dare he? How dare he slander his sister? His kind, amicable sister who had pleaded for him to stop despite suffering a lethal injury. His sister who always valued everyone before herself—and what did she get in return?
A-Huan… Stop first… no matter what, you should stop first…
Stop? Why must he stop? Why must he be the one to stop?
He might have killed this person's brother, but that same man had also killed his sister. So why is he the only one at fault? Why is he the only one labelled as a murderer?
“–chen, you must– calm… listen to– spiritual energy……”
Spiritual energy.
Yes, spiritual energy. It was because of it that he started cultivating this crooked path. Because he lost his golden core.
He would have never wanted to otherwise, because he was never interested in power or glory. All he wanted to do was to be together with the people he cared for at Lotus Pier.
He didn't need the sect to progress exponentially—didn't need it to get as large as Gusu Lan, as famous as Qinghe Nie, or as rich as Lanling Jin; so long as it can maintain its current status quo, so long as the Yunmeng Jiang Sect can be a warm home to even one of its disciples.
All he wanted was something this small, this simple, and yet…!
Jiang Xichen raises his hands to his chest and digs his nails into the fresh wound, prying the greying flesh around it away.
Where did it go wrong? Where did he go wrong?
Why did he go wrong?
"The Yiling Patriarch has gone berserk! Run for your lif–!"
Signal flares light up the sky in a burst of colours, illuminating it in a wide spectrum of shades from all the different sect motifs—yet they are all doused within a split second when a tide of resentment energy rises and crashes heavily down on the cultivators.
"D-D-Die! W-We're all going to die here!"
"Don't panic! All we need to do is to find a way to send out more flares to alert the sect leaders waiting below!"
"But that's impossible! How do we– ah, aaaaahhh!!!"
A brilliant sword glare lights up. Sandu cuts through the coils of dense energy twisted around its owner’s limbs with utmost accuracy, and Lan Wanyin swiftly leaps out of their clutches before they can close around him once again.
“Lan er-gongzi! Over here! Please free us too!”
Pleas for help come from all around him, but Lan Wanyin ignores them all. Instead, his attention is drawn to the miasma closing in on him as though drawn by his brief display of yang energy earlier.
There is no way he can outrun it.
There is no way he would outrun it either—Jiang Xichen is inside, and so, Lan Wanyin determinedly dips into a defensive pose and pours more spiritual energy into Sandu. His hands are trembling slightly, his head whirling, as if his body is telling him what a terrible idea this is, but Lan Wanyin chooses to ignore the warning alarms blaring at the back of his mind.
He had once promised to help. Even if Jiang Xichen doesn’t want it anymore, even if it is simply his foolish one-sided wish now, even if it is considered selfish for him to want to…
Well, he has always been selfish after all.
“Xichen!” Lan Wanyin yells, only to have his voice drowned out by the roaring winds.
Just a little stronger, just a little faster—he can do it this time; he has to do it this time, but as usual, he never makes it in time.
Lan Wanyin's expression twists, thin lips forming a series of syllables which he knows Jiang Xichen can no longer discern when the latter curls his bloodied fingers around the condensed core of resentment lodged in his chest, and rips it out of himself.
There is no longer any hesitation behind Jiang Xichen’s actions, for there is no longer any hope or joy left for him in the stark harshness of this living world.
Because it no longer matters, he thinks. Nothing really matters anymore, does it?
In a moment of triumphant clarity, Jiang Xichen tilts his head up to look at the sky, then briefly glances to his left when he spots Lan Wanyin dashing over with light steps. His snow white robes billow in the wind, strikingly juxtaposed with the bleak greyness of the night and the carmine redness on the ends of his sleeves, however the thing that catches Jiang Xichen’s attention the most is the amount of emotions swirling in the depths of Lan Wanyin’s steel blue eyes.
Such beautiful eyes.
What wouldn’t he give to see them narrowed in embarrassment or light up with barely-concealed joy once more?
Yet Jiang Xichen knows he shouldn’t be wishing for something akin to that in this final crescendo, not when he’d been the one to push Lan Wanyin away time and time again.
But it’s alright. It’s alright now, because it is finally silent in his head after so many long gruelling years.
And warm.
So comfortably warm.
Chapter 33: Repudiation I
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
<PRESENT>
The silence that hangs over the room is oppressive.
Having grown up in the Gusu Lan clan with its steadfast rules and his uncle's penchant for silence, Lan Wanyin had always found comfort in the short moments when he was simply sitting alone with a mountain of scrolls and books, eager to immerse himself into another wonderous world of knowledge.
Yet, oddly enough, he finds absolutely no reprieve whatsoever in the deafening silence right now, as he watches the slow but rhythmic rise and fall of Jiang Xichen's chest with every breath the sleeping man draws.
It is almost surreal, Lan Wanyin finds himself thinking while he reaches out to brush the stray strands of hair away from Jiang Xichen's forehead. It has been seven years—nearly eight at this point—since he’d seen the man take his own life atop Burial Mounds.
During this relentlessly long period of time, there had never been a day that passed without Lan Wanyin blaming himself for what happened: perhaps if he had never brought and hidden Jiang Xichen in the cave on Dust Creek Mountain, his elder brother wouldn’t have found them; perhaps if he had the resolve to fight his brother and firmly insisted on not bringing Jiang Xichen back to Burial Mounds, the Wens would not have perished; perhaps if he had realised that the Jins and Su She were in cahoots and managed to stop them before they laid siege; perhaps if he had done more, had brought Jiang Xichen away from it all before everything went wrong.
But these things are only easy to say in retrospect, Lan Wanyin muses to himself with a mirthless chuckle.
He runs the pad of his thumb gently across Jiang Xichen’s brows, smoothing out the frown between them. It is definitely a different face from what he is used to in his memories and dreams, yet it is indisputable that there is still a similar ache deep in Lan Wanyin’s heart upon seeing the grimace twisting the unfamiliar features.
A man’s heart is never satiated—Lan Wanyin cannot recall exactly where he had once heard this statement from, however, he is unable to deny the truth behind these six simple words.
Once, he had yearned to merely become strong enough to walk on equal grounds beside Jiang Xichen who he respected. Then he started wanting to become a pillar of support for the man he loved even if his feelings were to remain one-sided forever. But now, after those seven years in solitude, he finds himself greedily desiring both of those and more.
To be his anchor, his comfort, his home and…
A couple of sharp raps sound against the sturdy wooden door frame and Lan Wanyin hurriedly strides across the room to greet Wei Wuxian before the ruckus stirs Jiang Xichen. “Wei-ge.”
“Cheng-di.”
Despite the late hour, Wei Wuxian is dressed almost entirely in the Yunmeng Jiang Sect Leader’s formal ensemble, save for the purple fabric hair piece which he had previously seen on both Jiang Fengmian and Jiang Xichen, but never on Wei Wuxian.
Lan Wanyin raises a brow. “You were in a sect meeting?”
“No, to be more accurate, I am about to leave for one. Long story short, Lianfang-zun has sent an urgent missive to all sects, claiming that the lookout towers have received countless witness reports noting hordes of fierce corpses climbing out from graves and collectively making their way over to Burial Mounds, so all sect leaders are supposed to bring along twenty of our most skilled disciples to Koi Tower without delay.”
"It is too dangerous. Remember what Xichen told us about the incense? If he had placed that much time and effort into that plan, then it would hardly be a stretch to postulate that he would have other ploys up his sleeve as well."
The braids in Wei Wuxian's high ponytail bob as the man shrugs in response, unfettered. "It makes no difference to me, Cheng-di. We have already established that Lianfang-zun is a patient person. Even if I might be able to dodge it this time, I can't possibly hide forever."
"Certainly not as one of the Great Four Sects," Jiang Xichen's steady voice from behind them both. "That being said, I have no doubt the person orchestrating this entire debacle from behind the scenes is Jin Guangyao. The methodology used to control the corpses is too similar to Xue Yang's to be a mere coincidence." Jiang Xichen pauses, then turns to Lan Wanyin. "Was the seal Xue Yang used recovered?"
"I–" Lan Wanyin hesitates, his blood running cold when he realises his irreparable mistake. "My apologies. I was… distracted by more pressing matters then."
"It's not a big issue." Jiang Xichen waves the comment off with a dry chuckle as he hobbles over to the desk, a shaking hand pressed to the middle of his chest. "I have a general idea on how Xue Yang's seal works. It should be easy enough to formulate a plan around using a counteracting array."
Lan Wanyin steps forward at once. "I will help."
Jiang Xichen cracks a small smile. "Of course."
Wei Wuxian clears his throat audibly.
"Are we done with the mushy flirting yet? Or should I ask the disciples to set up sound-blocking talismans all around your room today, Ge?"
Lan Wanyin’s cheeks tinge with a briefest shade of pink at Wei Wuxian’s insinuation while Jiang Xichen simply inclines his head with an amused smirk tilting one of the corners of his lips up.
“Oh, but of course. Make sure to also ask for them to send the books pertaining to magical defence arrays over as well.”
Wei Wuxian scoffs flippantly. “As if you’d need that with Cheng-di around.”
Jiang Xichen shrugs. "Better safe than sorry, don't you think?"
Rolling his eyes, the sect leader then pulls a silver item out from his waist belt with a flourish and tosses it across the room at Jiang Xichen, who snatches it out of mid-air. A light chime sounds the very moment Jiang Xichen’s fingers make contact with the item, the telltale tinkle of the Yunmeng Jiang bell ringing out bright and clear.
"Take that with you then."
A perplexed expression crosses Jiang Xichen’s face as he glances down at the Bell of Clarity nestled in his palm. It comes with the usual engraving of the nine-petaled lotus motif of the Jiang Sect. However, what’s out of the ordinary is the vast amount of spiritual energy that has obviously been slowly imbued into the item over a long period of time—Wei Wuxian’s own spiritual energy.
“I assure you that's something you’d need more, Ge.”
Jiang Xichen sighs exasperatedly. "You know why I can't accept this. Song Hengyi is from Baixue Temple. He had no relations with Yumeng Jiang. There is no reason for him to have a Bell of Clarity."
Wei Wuxian shrugs. “I am not giving it to Song Hengyi, but you. Whenever you are back at Lotus Pier, you can be yourself, Ge. Besides, I'm so darn glad to finally have been able to get rid of that, so I am never taking it back no matter what you say. Wiping and polishing Suibian alone was already bad enough, but some horrible person had to dump their own belongings on me before going missing for seven years. Utterly incorrigible, don’t you agree, Cheng-di?”
Lan Wanyin doesn’t answer. Instead, he keeps his eyes trained on Jiang Xichen, silently taking in all the minute shifts in the latter’s facial expressions and posture.
Wei Wuxian's tone dips melancholically. "Keep it. Shijie crafted that for you. It's your only memento left of her, isn't it?"
Lan Wanyin furrows his brows into a slight frown, about to say something in response to Wei Wuxian's statement but the latter has already left without an additional word.
Then, from behind him, Jiang Xichen lets out a small, suppressed chuckle.
"Wei Wuxian really hasn’t changed much. He is still so unbearably pushy with his ideas."
Lan Wanyin lowers his gaze, a comfortable warmth bubbling inside him. It’s strange—oddly contradictory with how he feels pleased yet also troubled whenever Jiang Xichen reminisces about his past.
Some things which he'd rather Jiang Xichen not remember, and all the others which he wants Jiang Xichen to recall and reminisce to him.
The taller man inclines his head, mistaking Lan Wanyin’s silence for concern. "Are you worried for Wei Wuxian?"
"No, not really. Wei-ge can take care of himself."
Jiang Xichen laughs again, tucking the Bell of Clarity into his lapels before rising to his feet and taking another step forward. His movement is slow and strained, his body leaning heavily on the side that is not injured from Bichen.
Lan Wanyin rushes to his side at once. "Careful. Do not push yourself. Your wounds have not–"
"–recovered yet, I know. But we don't exactly have the luxury of time to wait around either."
The Lan cultivator purses his lips.
He understands what Jiang Xichen means: although Jin Guangyao might not have done anything to the cultivators thus far, there is no guarantee he wouldn’t after getting all the resentment energy on Burial Mounds at his disposal.
"I am certain Wei-ge will do his best to stall for time."
"He will," Jiang Xichen agrees with a wry nod of his head, yet he still refuses to sit back down. "But time is of the essence because I wish to make a short detour before we head to Burial Mounds."
"Where to?"
Jiang Xichen pauses for a moment then, a trace of hesitation briefly clouding his amber eyes, before it brightens with determination.
"The venue for the Water Lantern Festival."
Lan Wanyin's breath hitches.
"I do know that it is the wrong time of the year and we don't have any lotus lanterns with us right now, but that is one of my favourite festivals and I do want to finish showing you around the lakes."
"We…" Lan Wanyin pauses dryly.
He can still remember his trip down to Yunmeng as clear as day. The loud yells of shopkeepers marketing their wares, the blinding smile Jiang Xichen shoots his way, and the comforting warmth of having Jiang Xichen’s arm around his shoulders.
"We can always go after we return from Burial Mounds…"
"We could," Jiang Xichen agrees, his voice firm and unwavering. However, Lan Wanyin distinctly hears the resounding 'but' that was never voiced, and he doesn't need Jiang Xichen to put it explicitly into words to understand the implication behind the unsaid words.
There might be no 'after'.
If they wish to have any hope of stopping Jin Guangyao, then it is inevitable that they'd have to perform the insurmountable task of swaying the public opinion against the respected Chief Cultivator.
However, even if they do somehow achieve that, the curse from the Sacrificial Ritual will still claim Jiang Xichen's life unless he decides to honour Song Hengyi and take another person’s life, which is something Lan Wanyin knows Jiang Xichen will never willingly do.
It is, after all, this aspect of Jiang Xichen that he first fell for.
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
“I haven't been here in so long that I've forgotten how serene Yunmeng can be."
Jiang Xichen spins the shoddily-made xiao in his hand, as their boat glides from the main lake into the outskirts of Lotus Pier which—unlike the picturesque clear waters of the main lake reserved for festivities—is covered nearly completely in a layer of verdant green.
The leaves, some as small as plates and others the size of umbrellas, are layered endlessly one above another. The ones on the perimeter are lower and sparser, forming a flat layer which appears as though it is floating just atop the water’s surface, while the ones currently around the boat are much taller and closer to each other, enough to create a makeshift veil for the two men.
“Wei Wuxian and I came here quite a bit when we were younger. The old farmer who was in charge of planting the lotus pods in this particular region back in the day was extremely proficient. The pods here were always larger than others and their seeds were also much sweeter.”
But unfortunately, the owner perished during the Sunshot Campaign and entire plot was mostly destroyed by the Wens—Jiang Xichen purposefully leaves this little tidbit out as he absentmindedly stretches over to one of the ample pods dangling from a slender stem, only to have Lan Wanyin stop him.
“Allow me. Your wounds have not fully healed yet,” Lan Wanyin insists as he sets down the oars.
Jiang Xichen perks up, readily accepting Lan Wanyin's unconditional fussing and attention as he shifts back into their intimate style of cheeky banter.
"Oh? Is the illustrious Lan er-gongzi planning to commit petty theft on my behalf?"
"It is not stealing. Wei-ge bought the deed to this lake several years ago. Everything inside here now is free for the public to take."
A look of fond amusement crosses Jiang Xichen's face when he sees Lan Wanyin breaking off several pods along with a long chunk of stem. “Let me guess, Wei Wuxian was also the one who told you that the lotus seeds would taste sweeter with the stem intact.”
Lan Wanyin blinks twice, confusedly lowering his gaze to the pods in his hands. “Is he wrong?”
Jiang Xichen chuckles as he takes one over and breaks the entire stem right off. Next, he expertly peels one of the pits open with deft fingers before holding the round seed up between them.
“Try it and tell me. Is there a difference?”
Lan Wanyin lowers his gaze slowly to the lotus seed, his lips set firmly into a thin hesitant line for a long silent moment. Then, just as Jiang Xichen is about to call it a joke and withdraw his hand, the shorter man finally moves, tilting his head to lean in while tucking a lock of his hair behind his ear.
Jiang Xichen's breath hitches at the sudden plush warmth touching the very tips of his fingers in the very next second, which is quickly followed by a light but bold brush of wetness against them, before the white-robed cultivator draws away once again.
"Mn, Wei-ge is right. This is definitely sweeter.”
Jiang Xichen swallows dryly, his attention no longer focused on the topic at hand. Instead, he finds his gaze flickering down to the unintentionally sensual way in which Lan Wanyin is dragging the tip of his tongue across his bottom lip, across the delicate rosy flush of muted pink, parted to form syllables which Jiang Xichen fails to catch in the heat of the moment.
He reaches out to Lan Wanyin on a whim, fingers trailing gently across soft skin to cradle the latter’s cheek in his palm.
Lan Wanyin blinks, eyes widening by a fraction before his surprise morphs into a content smile. Eyes slipping close, he raises a hand to Jiang Xichen’s and leans into the touch of their intertwined fingers.
Something instantly shifts in the air between them, turning the cosy atmosphere into something much more intimate, and Jiang Xichen swallows down the blooming urge to simply tangle his fingers into the loose strands of Lan Wanyin’s hair and pull him closer, to embrace him and bury his face into the crook of the man’s neck.
If only time could come to a standstill now, Jiang Xichen finds himself thinking, with Lan Wanyin within an arm’s reach, looking so tranquil under the golden rays of the morning sun.
If only they didn't have to head over to Yiling after this, if only he wasn't afflicted with this ritual curse which might claim his life at any moment, if only–
“Let’s travel the world."
Jiang Xichen snaps his gaze up to meet Lan Wanyin's. The confusion must be evident in his eyes, but Lan Wanyin's steel blue ones remain utmostly clear, without a single cloud of doubt or hesitation.
"Let's travel the world together once all of this is over," Lan Wanyin repeats earnestly. "I have been to many places during these seven years. I'd like to see them again, with you beside me this time."
Jiang Xichen tenses, hastily averting his face. "I…"
I don’t make promises I can’t keep.
The motto which Jiang Xichen had once decided to live by, now sounds much too vile to voice aloud in the quiet peacefulness enveloping them both. Instead, he bends forward, pressing his forehead against Lan Wanyin's.
"I'll do my best."
It is not a promise—not exactly, but the words hold the same fervent weight of one, and Lan Wanyin tightens his grip on Jiang Xichen's fingers in return.
"Thank you."
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
"This is completely and utterly unacceptable!" Sect Leader Yao thunders, nostrils flaring comically as he slams his hands down on the table. “The more I hear about the list of atrocities this Song Hengyi has committed, the more revolted I get from his very presence! Who does he think he is?! Digging out corpses to play-pretend at being a necromancer? How dare he desecrate them like that?”
The other sect leaders gathered at Koi Tower quickly chime in animatedly to provide their unsolicited opinions one after another, their voices increasing in volume as they curse and swear at Song Hengyi in unison.
Demonic cultivator, murderous ingrate, disrespectful miscreant—there are no short of strongly-worded insults being hurled at Song Hengyi in earnest, and the army of bootlickers only reluctantly quietens down when Lan Wangji casts a icy glare straight at them.
Basking in the silence that ensues, the disheartened Wei Wuxian then glances briefly over in the direction of one of the larger ceremonial halls, where he knows a jet black coffin for Qin Su is currently placed in, and his shoulders inadvertently slump forward a tad.
It might have been a little more than seven years since the last time all the various sects were asked to gather at Lanling in this manner, but some things really never do change.
In fact, it can even be said that there is an uncanny resemblance between this current situation and the one back then, which further cements the mounting sense of uneasiness in Wei Wuxian.
Jiang Xichen hadn't voiced out any of his suspicions yet, but Wei Wuxian is familiar enough with the man to know that he must have noticed the similarities between the current situation and that from seven years ago?
Beside him, Lan Wangji reaches over and presses his palm against the small of Wei Wuxian's back—a small supportive gesture which clearly speaks of all the Lan Sect Leader's thoughts without the need for words.
Things have changed. They are not the same as back then.
Wei Wuxian grins up at his ever-loving, ever-kind, ever-amazing husband.
Indeed, Lan Zhan is absolutely right.
A lot of things have changed since. For starters, the Yunmeng Jiang Sect is no longer struggling to survive, and he has gained enough respect and influence as a sect leader to sway opinions in the cultivation world.
If anyone were to try to persecute his brother now, he will be able to step forward and shield him—even if that person is none other than the Chief Cultivator, Jin Guangyao, himself.
Wei Wuxian fights back the burning urge to scowl when the man steps onto the elevated platform in front of them with a solemn speech.
“It has been a long time since we have all gathered together like today. To prevent history from repeating itself, we have once unanimously decided that the dark arts is to be outlawed as an illegal cultivation method, yet I have to regretfully announce that despite our efforts, it appears we are now facing the same unfortunate threat as before."
Wei Wuxian narrows his eyes.
The last time an urgent missive had been sent out from Lanling Jin was shortly after Jin Zixuan’s death and although it had been years since then, that gruelling experience has remained stark on the surface of everybody’s minds, and this brief reminder from Jin Guangyao is clearly a calculated tactic that is aimed at putting everyone on edge and swaying the last few individuals who are still on the fence—and as Wei Wuxian fears, it works spectacularly.
“We… We definitely can’t allow such a horrible tragedy to happen again! Even up till this day, the mere memory of all the blood and mounds of corpses still startles me up from sleep, drenched and shivering in cold sweat! I say that there is nothing such as being too careful: we ought to act early and nip the source of the problem at its bud.”
“Hmph. You make it sound so ridiculously easy. Just think about it: that Song person is commanding tens of thousands of corpses with the Yiling Patriarch’s infamous Stygian Tiger Seal. We will all run out of spiritual energy before we even mow down half of their numbers.”
“Aiyo, do you even hear yourself? All you have been saying is how we can’t do this, we can’t do that; what is it that we can do then?!”
“Listen! There is no point in discussing what we can or cannot do because we have no other choice but to do it!” Sect Leader Yao interrupts, boldly stating his steadfast stance with a huge and deliberate wave of his arm. “This Song Hengyi is a demonic cultivator, and the Burial Mounds is still swirling with resentment energy from the Yiling Patriarch. God knows what nefarious plans he has up his sleeve!"
Nie Huaisang audibly clears his throat from behind his newest addition to his paper fan collection. "But if it's the Burial Mounds then I don't think we have to be too worried. Didn't we set up a wall layered with incantations to trap the resentment energy? I don't know how long it can last but surely it can't be that easy for him to break the arrays, right? Right?"
"Perhaps that might be the case for any other intruder but have you forgotten he has Lan er-gongzi on his side?" Sect Leader Yao sneers, but a scathing glower from Lan Wangji has him scurrying to change his sentence. "I mean, that h-he… he took Lan er-gongzi hostage!"
A flurry of mumblings tear through the crowd.
Jin Guangyao raises a hand, commanding silence.
"Sect Leader Yao has raised a fair point. I am certain Lan er-gongzi's reputation of going wherever the chaos is, must have struck a chord with many of us present. Lanling Jin has also always been grateful to him for undertaking many of the night-hunts raised from the lookout towers. So, it is only appropriate that we all reciprocate his goodwill in kind and help him now that he is in need."
Wei Wuxian purses his lips.
As expected of Jin Guangyao and his accursed gift of glib. There is exceedingly little Wei Wuxian can even think of interjecting in this scenario without potentially shooting himself in the foot.
If he were to suggest delaying the siege, it would appear as though he does not care for his brother-in-law’s wellbeing. However, on the other hand, he has to do his best to keep them here for as long as he can so his brother can finish setting up the necessary preparations on Burial Mounds.
“Fret not, my younger brother is not that weak.”
Wei Wuxian blinks twice at Lan Wangji’s untimely interjection, before he breaks into a wide smirk. “That’s right! Cheng-di is one of the most talented cultivators in our generation. How could a nobody like Song Hengyi ever hope to compare with his level? He must be staying with Song Hengyi to stall for time for us to worry over more pressing things!”
The disciples begin eyeing each other nervously before a brave youth finally steps forward and voices what is currently on everyone’s mind.
“Sect Leader Wei, w-what do you mean by more pressing things?”
Wei Wuxian gives a loud, exaggerated sigh while rubbing circles into his temples. “For starters, we have to determine if the supposed seal Song Hengyi got his hands on is really from the Yiling Patriarch, and if so, how did he find it and what are its effects?”
“Its effects?!” Sect Leader Yao gasps incredulously. “Pardon my tone but we have been talking about this since the very start! That demonic cultivator has been using it to reanimate and control fierce corpses! Them making their way to the Burial Mounds is exactly what we have gathered her urgently for, isn't it?!"
“That is what we have observed, yes. But don’t you find something odd about the current situation? If the Stygian Tiger Seal the Yiling Patriarch created truly possesses the power to command corpses so freely, then why have we not seen him use it even once prior?”
“T-That’s…”
Jin Guangyao inclines his head with a genial smile. “Surely Sect Leader Wei isn’t trying to insinuate that locating the Stygian Tiger Seal is of higher priority than securing the safety of the civilians at Yiling?”
Wei Wuxian clicks his tongue. “Of course not, but with Madam Jin’s odd suicide and Chifeng-zun’s dismembered corpse turning up during the Discussion Conference happening back to back, can you blame me for suspecting that someone or something is behind this whole debacle?”
“Huh? Wait wait wait, but haven’t we established that the person pulling the strings is that Song person?!"
“Ridiculous! Who do you think Chifeng-zun is? How is it possible that a lowly criminal like Song Hengyi can even dream of getting close enough to harm him in this lifetime?”
“Then who else can it be? Exactly how many psychotic bastards are we potentially dealing with right now?!"
Jin Guangyao's smile turns a little forced at the corners. "I appreciate everyone’s kind concern. However, I don’t think it is necessary to breach this topic at the moment."
Wei Wuxian shakes his head with mock disappointment. “Oh? Don’t be so quick to shut me down, Lianfang-zun. I am also saying this for the sake of your Lanling Jin Sect. We certainly wouldn’t want to put the Chief Cultivator’s seven years of hard work to waste, would I?”
Two can play at this game.
Jin Guangyao’s countenance darkens, a menacing glint settling into the depths of his eyes. “It is of little consequence compared to Sect Leader Wei’s decades worth of diligence to get to your current position."
The Jin Sect Leader's face is impassive, save for the triumphant slope to his posture, and he stares at Wei Wuxian as though expecting the latter to find offence at the insinuation that he'd been eyeing the Sect Leader position since Jiang Fengmian took him in.
However, to Jin Guangyao's utmost surprise, Wei Wuxian merely laughs.
"Lianfang-zun, you're being too humble. Everything that you've put together within the span of these few years—they are all things that I can never see myself ever even coming close to accomplishing."
Jin Guangyao's smile stiffens imperceptibly. "I'd take that as a compliment, Sect Leader Wei."
The suffocatingly tense atmosphere between the two men is palpable with that short exchange, and no one—not even Lan Wangji—seems open to the idea of stepping in to mediate, at least not until a shrill shout followed by the sonorous reverberations of a gong coming from the entrance of Koi Tower interrupts them.
"Emergency! It's an emergency!!"
Everyone hastily peer over their shoulders in time to spot a red-faced youth scurrying up the long flight of stairs.
"Lianfang-zun, it is an emergency! Several lookout towers have sent in reports claiming that they have spotted the demonic cultivator Song Hengyi entering Burial Mounds!"
So they’ve managed to get there earlier than expected.
Wei Wuxian tries to not let any shred of his relief show.
Lan Wangji, who he'd filled in about the situation earlier, remains composed by his side, not even moving a single muscle. Meanwhile, the other sect leaders fall into a disorganised and frenzied mess, worriedly chattering amongst themselves as they wait for the Chief Cultivator's next orders.
One of the sect leaders Wei Wuxian doesn't recall the name of, swaggers forward pompously. "If you ask me, I'd say that we ought to set off for Yiling immediately."
"Huh?! B-But what about the issues that Sect Leader Wei brought up earlier? Are we just going to sweep them under the rug?"
"This is not the time to discuss such trivial matters. If you'd like to know the answers so much, why don't you interrogate the demonic cultivator yourself after we capture him?"
"That's not for you to say. Even if we wind up capturing him, the one who'd be interrogating him wouldn't be us."
"So what? Do you mean to say that just because you don't get to be directly involved, you don't want to be a part of this? You coward!"
"Oi, you over there! Watch what you say with that fucking filthy mouth of yours! How is being practical, cowardice?!"
"To think that you would even try to talk your way out of this with such pathetic half-baked excuses! If you don't want to support the Chief Cultivator then scram!"
"Tsk, just ignore him. Him calling you a coward is just akin to the pot calling the kettle black. Just a couple of years ago, this man was still scorning others for their lowly birth, and look what he is doing now that Lianfang-zun became the Chief Cultivator? Wagging his tail like a little forlorn puppy. What a disgusting bootlicker with zero pride at all."
"You—"
"Enough! The Chief Cultivator hasn't even spoken. How dare all of you voice your own unfounded opinions!"
Wei Wuxian perks up at the very last voice.
He recognises it, just like how he recognises the white-robed cultivator who is dressed in shades of blue with fabric patterns closely resembling a cheap imitation of Gusu Lan's: Su She, Su Minshan—the person who took it upon himself seven years ago to lead a group of Lan cultivators up to Burial Mounds to participate in the siege, and was expelled from the Gusu Lan Sect as a result.
He had always found it strange how Su She had been so adamant in setting up a sect after his expulsion; how a prideful man like him went so far as to tolerate the humiliation that came with him using derivatives of the Gusu Lan techniques as the foundation for Moling Su's.
Strange, and yet, not sufficient for Wei Wuxian to invest more thought into the matter. Not until now, at least; not until he has an inkling about Jin Guangyao's manipulative and scheming nature, not until he notices how Su She is unobtrusively protective of Jin Guangyao at every single turn.
The corner of Wei Wuxian's lips twitch, curving up.
He is certain now: Su She must be Jin Guangyao's accomplice.
His brother hasn't mentioned anything about there being someone like that. But there has to be one, if Xue Yang's seal has gone missing, and the only person who is capable of doing that can only be someone who is privy to Jin Guangyao's plans—an accomplice.
“Thank you, Sect Leader Su. I am sure everyone’s words were a little harsher because they were alarmed by the contents of the sudden report. Unfortunately, we no longer have the time to stand around here discussing our next course of action. We have to make haste to Yiling immediately.” Jin Guangyao turns a knowing gaze in Wei Wuxian’s direction. “I trust that Sect Leader Wei has no objections this time round?”
Wei Wuxian shrugs.
Jin Guangyao maintains his smile, but his tone is now oddly placid without a single trace of his previous anger or frustration.
"Let's make preparations to leave for Burial Mounds then."
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
“Su Minshan?” Lan Wanyin raises a brow, his steps slowing considerably after they pass through the city gates of Yiling. “You think he is Lianfang-zun’s accomplice? The gravedigger?”
"The facts and scenarios would all align nicely if it is him, don't you agree?" Jiang Xichen inclines his head, the aura from the ebony sword strapped to his back seemingly heavy and oppressive. "The reason the gravedigger was so familiar with Gusu Lan sword techniques, as well as why we were unable to find anyone within your sect who had their whereabouts unaccounted for during that period."
Because they aren’t even in the sect to begin with.
Lan Wanyin gives a low hum of affirmation under his breath, but his face pinches into a perplexed expression.
He isn't completely convinced yet, of course—just as how he was initially reluctant to cast any amount of suspicion on someone from his sect—but it is true that everything would make absolute sense if they considered the gravedigger to be someone who once trained in Gusu Lan but is now outside of its jurisdiction, and the sole person who even comes close to fitting the bill is Su She.
It really should have been one of the first few individuals Lan Wanyin suspected, but his prejudice against the man had resulted in him overlooking Su She completely until Jiang Xichen brought him up.
In fact, if given the choice, Lan Wanyin would have preferred ignoring all traces of that man's existence, from how he'd led a group of Gusu Lan disciples for the siege, to the thick-skinned way he'd decided to set up the Moling Su Sect barely a month after being expelled.
"The Gusu Lan Sect is in no way affiliated with Moling Su," Lan Wanyin spits out with a tad more venom than he'd intended to, and Jiang Xichen blinks several times in succession, taken aback.
"Huh? But I… I did not imply that?"
Lan Wanyin averts his gaze, his cheeks heating up with a slight flush at his sudden outlash, and Jiang Xichen is quick to break the air up with a light-hearted chuckle.
"That was rather uncharacteristic of you, Wanyin. Say, did something happen between Gusu Lan and Su Minshan? I mean, it had to be something terrible enough to warrant getting him expelled, right? What was it?"
Lan Wanyin pauses at the unexpected question, whirling around on his heel. He squints next, searching Jiang Xichen's expression for any slivers which might hint that the latter was simply making a joke—because there is no way someone would possibly forget the events which led up to their death—but comes up empty.
There is an accusatory undertone to Lan Wanyin’s tone when he speaks next, a bridge between disbelief and bewilderment. "You do not remember…?"
Jiang Xichen's smile falters. It turns a little strained at the corners, apologetic. "Unfortunately, my memory after Jin Zixuan's death is hazy. Even at Lanling, I can't clearly remember how I got there. All I recall is my sister's—"
Lan Wanyin presses two fingers against Jiang Xichen's lips, stopping the latter from finishing the sentence which he is sure will cause him pain to relive.
“After you lost control and fell unconscious at Lanling Jin, I hid you in the Xuanwu cave for several days. However, your condition would not improve, so I had no choice but to bring you back to Wen-guniang. Then, not too long after that, the siege…” Lan Wanyin trails off momentarily as he turns his gaze towards the short overgrown path leading up to Burial Mounds. “...the siege was carried out.”
"How does Sect Leader Su fit into the equation then?"
Lan Wanyin draws in a deep inhale.
"At that time, both the Gusu Lan and Yunmeng Jiang Sect refused to send anyone to participate in the siege, but Su Minshan and a group of Lan disciples secretly participated regardless, hoping to make a name for themselves by taking down the Yiling Patriarch."
The air between them stills.
An unreadable expression crosses Jiang Xichen's countenance, but it is gone as quickly as it'd appeared.
"I see."
There is no discernible emotion to Jiang Xichen's voice, neither shock nor relief, or even the slightest amount of resignation, yet for some reason, Lan Wanyin feels his heart clench and his chest beginning to ache.
"I'm sorry," Lan Wanyin offers solemnly, his face falling.
He doesn't know what exactly he is apologising for. For not realising Su She's scheme and stopping him in time? For arriving far too late to change anything? Or perhaps it is for both?
Jiang Xichen's eyes widen for a moment before thinning into slits as though amused. Still smiling, he then reaches over, grasping and intertwining his fingers with Lan Wanyin's. Zidian tingles around Lan Wanyin’s forefinger, but the latter finds his attention drawn by the reassuring warmth emanating from Jiang Xichen’s hand on his.
It is somewhat ironic, because the person who is the most affected right now should be Jiang Xichen, yet that same person is the one comforting him.
"I should be the one apologising instead," Jiang Xichen admits sheepishly. "I've always thought I'd tied up all the loose ends but it seems that it was just my misperception."
As though on cue, a gust of rippling miasma surges towards them, racing from the centre of Burial Mounds to the walls erected around the perimeter, only to be stopped by the active inscriptions on the wall, as well as the shrill tinkle from the Bell of Clarity inside Jiang Xichen's sleeve. Regardless, the force from that causes the air around the two men to warp and crackle, and Lan Wanyin instinctively tightens his grip on Jiang Xichen's hand when the latter takes a casual step forward.
"You shouldn't. Wei-ge has mentioned that your core wouldn't be able to take any more resentment energy in its current state."
Lan Wanyin had phrased his words matter-of-factly, but he'd meant it as a plea.
Don't do it, don't go, don't leave me, Lan Wanyin had meant to say but he couldn't bring himself to utter a single additional word, because he had decided to honour Jiang Xichen's decision, no matter what it may be, no matter what it might entail.
Still, he hopes, fervently hopes that Jiang Xichen will choose to prioritise himself over his sect and others for once.
Beside him, Jiang Xichen lets out an airy chuckle.
"Wanyin-ge's thoughts are so loud. I reckon I can probably hear them from a mile away." He pauses, before continuing in a more serious tone. "Don't worry, I wasn't intending to draw any of the energy in. It was merely being attracted to me because of our past affinity. But if you are worried, it wouldn't hurt to spend some time preparing proper countermeasures."
Lan Wanyin blinks. "Countermeasures?"
"Jin Guangyao's plan of using the incense was originally meant to be over a longer duration. However, our interference at the Discussion Conference resulted in it being drastically shortened. As such, I can only think of one reason why he would attempt to herd everyone to Burial Mounds now."
Lan Wanyin's face lights up with understanding.
"To accomplish the same thing within a shorter time frame, Lianfang-zun's next best course of action is to find a place with more resentment energy."
Jiang Xichen gives a solemn nod of his head. “Xue Yang was using the same method in Yi City. Those without a golden core are susceptible to resentment energy, however, it is different for cultivators. He let slip that there were two ways he could gain control of a cultivator with his seal: one, imbue the target with enough resentment energy to overload and break their core, or two, kill them before imbuing the energy.”
"Why would Lianfang-zun wish to control the sect leaders?"
"Hm? Is the reason really so difficult to infer?"
No, it is not difficult at all. Lan Wanyin just does not want to believe it, does not want to believe that someone with the honourable title of Chief Cultivator would be plotting something which could potentially endanger the life of his elder brother.
Unfortunately, they do not have much more time to waste. The lookout towers near Yiling would have picked up their presence and reported it back to Lanling by now—they have made sure to travel in a way that attracted the most amount of attention for this purpose after all.
But they might have overestimated themselves a little.
Lan Wanyin hadn't expected there to be this much resentment energy at Burial Mounds. He had heard of how much thicker the miasma has gotten since the Yiling Patriarch's passing, but he'd never found enough resolve to pass through the region.
The reminder is too stark—and perhaps still remains a little too close to heart even after all these years.
"Don't worry. All you have to do is to modify the runes so they can purify the resentment energy on Burial Mounds. Leave everything else to me."
Calm and dependable.
It is exactly how he remembers Jiang Xichen being, and Lan Wanyin feels his chest constrict and heart rate speed up.
"Of course."
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
Lan Wangji narrows his eyes.
There is something extremely odd about their current predicament. Although they’d left due to reports from the lookout towers claiming that his younger brother and Jiang Xichen have entered Burial Mounds, they have yet to come across any of their traces on the way up to the peak.
Of course, there is no shortage of fierce corpses which Sect Leader Jin had previously mentioned were controlled by Jiang Xichen, but Lan Wangji is already aware that these corpses are controlled by the Jin sect leader himself. Besides, no matter how infuriatingly despicable Jiang Xichen is as an individual, there was no way his brother would be in lov… would possess any amount of affection for Jiang Xichen, if the man was one to unearth and desecrate corpses in this manner—he did not bring up Lan Wanyin with such loose morals after all.
"Th… This is already the sixth wave of corpses! Just how devious is this Song bastard?!"
"Protect the sect leaders!"
"But the resentment energy all around us is… We can't possibly fend off both the fierce corpses with all this energy aiding them! Just look at how fast they are regenerating!"
"Stop wailing like a wuss! Keep your sword steady!"
“But there is no end in sight! Shouldn't we retreat and regroup?”
“What do you mean retreat?! If we back off now, it’s like surrendering to that demonic cultivator! I won’t stand for it! Even if this body of mine becomes battered and broken, I swear that I will never give in to evil! Whoever dares to leave now will be expelled from my sect!”
Using the chaos of the moment, Wei Wuxian leaps backwards with a confident grin, pressing his body snug against his husband’s.
“Have you noticed it too, Lan Zhan?”
Have you noticed the same inconsistencies as I have?
Lan Wangji glances at Su She and Jin Guangyao from the corner of his eye, noting how Su She's stance is more defensive than offensive, and how he is trying to imperceptibly stay close to Jin Guangyao—both of which are things they would have easily overlooked, if they hadn't specifically been paying attention.
“Mn.”
Then, as though to cover up the topic of their brief conversation, Lan Wangji leaps into the air and hovers his instrument before himself with a calm expression, before strumming it. The pitch of the two reverberating notes he plucks is sharp, sweeping through the horde with a bleak chill. The rotting bodies fall stiffly over one after another, with dull bursting sounds coming from inside their skulls.
“That just now… That was the Eradication Tone from the Gusu Lan Sect, right?”
“We may still have a fighting chance!”
“Of course we do! Even without any special techniques, there is no way we would lose to that cunning—" The disciple's voice cuts off abruptly in the middle of her snide comment.
In the very next moment, she collapses heavily onto her knees, clawing desperately at her chest. Her eyes widen almost comically, bulging hideously out of their sockets as a strange gurgling sound comes from deep within her throat.
Then as they watch, the woman tilts her head back and lets out a bellowing roar of anguish. Her dark irises constrict, receding to the point that only the whites of her eyes remain visible. Her thin body convulses next, folding in on itself.
“Are you okay?" The person beside her places a concerned hand on her shoulder, but instead of replying, her body simply slumps forward, tongue lolling limply out of her agape mouth.
"Hey, say something. Which sect are you from? W—” he begins, however the rest of his sentence dissolves into a blood-curdling scream when she whips around abruptly and stabs her sword straight into his chest.
A pregnant silence passes through the terrified crowd, only amplified by the looks of absolute shock and horror as a wide spray of fresh blood spurts into the air.
"H-H-Help! Someone, help me!" the cultivator next to the victim screams, tears pouring down his cheeks while the female cultivator lunges at him, slashing a deep wound across his back before stabbing his friend right through his throat without a pause.
Lan Wangji acts immediately, switching over to the Sound of Vanquish which blasts the berserk cultivator away.
Chaos ensues in the next moment, filling the air with another bout of helpless screams when the realisation that a fellow cultivator has gone mad and is attacking indiscriminately now. Sect leaders yell at their fleeing disciples, urging them to fall into defensive formations.
To make matters worse, the thick swirling clouds of miasma overhead are growing by the minute. They spring forward akin to a predator pouncing on its prey, and the handful of disciples it envelopes begin twitching and falling over as well, only to rise back up a fraction of a second later to attack their peers.
"Set up a sword barrier," Lan Wangji instructs coolly and all twenty Gusu Lan disciples stab their swords into the ground at once, forming a huge and infallible sword fence in front of the rest of the cultivators.
Several turned cultivators and fierce corpses alike crash straight into it, and the disciples dig their heels into the ground in unison, using their spiritual weapons to channel their energy into the earth to form a repelling barrier. However, it only manages to force the dark entities back several steps each time, and the disciples brace themselves for another round of vicious attacks.
Twenty disciples to accompany each sect leader—this number might sound rather insignificant initially, but considering the sheer number of sects present, the amount of corpses being continuously propagated is endless. Furthermore, even if they were to succeed at injuring any of them, the copious amounts of resentment energy around simply meant that they could regenerate immediately.
An immortal army.
What could Jin Guangyao possibly want to achieve with this?
As if on cue, notes of an abnormally shrill pitch stringing together into a bizarre and ear-piercing melody, rings out from the foot of Burial Mounds. The resentment energy overhead warps in response, curling in on itself as it forms a dome which stretches down to the perimeter.
Following up with the obvious sign of Jiang Xichen's handiwork, Wei Wuxian then fashions a sizzling rope of crimson from his spiritual energy, and whips it out in a wide arc, wrapping it around the ankles of the fierce corpses. With a simple flick of his wrist, he then yanks them cleanly off their feet and up into the air.
Suibian surges forward next, riding the momentum to thrust Wei Wuxuan over to the next daunting group of foes in a quick burst of speed. The raging wind whistles, and the sect leader swings his blade down diagonally, cutting rotting flesh and severing limp sinew.
Without a boundless source of resentment energy to draw from, the regenerative abilities of the entities slow considerably and the severed body parts fall limply in two separate piles.
"Sect Leader, behind you!"
Wei Wuxian does not need to be told twice.
It is as if he has eyes on the back of his head too, with the way he swiftly brings the heel of his boot down on the turned cultivator’s face with dead-on accuracy, sending the individual plummeting back down to the ground below.
Using the resulting force as leverage, Wei Wuxian then nimbly twists his body with a backflip in mid-air, and deftly connects the heel of his other boot with the very end of Suibian's hilt. The polished blade speeds downward, piercing through the mouth of a fierce corpse and rips the snarling monster off of a helpless Ouyang Sect disciple.
"Lan Zhan!"
No further words are necessary.
With a flick of his wrist and a flash of billowing white sleeves, Lan Wangji forms thin strings out of his spiritual energy which snake straight down with vigour and pierce through the hands and feet of the growling creature with deadly precision, trapping it firmly on the ground.
Pulling the strings taut with a sharp snap of his left elbow, Lan Wangji strums his fingers across them.
Small sparks of spiritual energy blossom at once, dancing elegantly from his fingertips down the length of the string, only to erupt at the end in the form of anguished bellows by the immobilised beast. The threads seemingly constrict the more the creature struggles, sinking into flesh and drawing blood, before the excess energy ultimately explodes outwards, sending a rain of sharp cuts which tear mercilessly through the other nearby entities.
Loud raucous cheers come from the multitude of sects, their morale renewed in the brief moment of respite from battle. In fact, the only one who appears to be displeased seems to be Su She.
"What a fine kettle of fish this farce of a siege has become. You think that our situation has improved because the miasma is moving away? Don't be ridiculous! Have you forgotten who the person with the Stygian Tiger Seal is? Killing all these small fries will accomplish nothing. They'd continue moving so long as the seal is present!"
"Oh~? And how does Sect Leader Su know that? Could it be that you are familiar with the spell?"
Su She is stunned into silence, his face blanching and eyes widening as if he'd just noticed what he has unintentionally blurted out in front of Wei Wuxian.
A cultivator who Wei Wuxian does not know the name of, interrupts. "But that's just common sense! The corpses use resentment energy and the seal controls resentment energy!"
Wei Wuxian nods his head several times in mock agreement. "Makes sense, makes sense. However, if this is truly the Yiling Patriarch's Stygian Tiger Seal, and Song Hengyi could control resentment energy like Jiang Xichen did, then what is the point of luring us all specifically here, where we'd inadvertently have our guard up?"
Su She sneers. "Who knows what's on the minds of these demonic cultivators."
Sect Leader Yao chirps in as well, eager to curry favour. "That's right, that's right. It takes one to know the other. Besides, didn't the Lanling Jin Sect previously say they couldn’t find the seal on Burial Mounds? Maybe the Song brat stole it! Truly an incorrigible criminal from young!"
Nie Huaisang, who had been shielded by his loyal subordinates thus far, peeks out from behind his paper fan. "That can't be right… Song Hengyi would have been sixteen when the siege happened. He should be training at Baixue Temple then so he can’t possibly be involved in the siege…”
“Good point, Nie-xiong. If we go by that logic, then the only way he could have gotten his hands on the seal would be when he left Baixue Temple after, namely, around the time for the Baixue Temple massacre's trial."
"Huh? But Wei-xiong, the trial was a few years after the siege, right? We have combed Burial Mounds countless times since then. There’s no chance the seal was still there!"
Lan Wangji steps off of Bichen calmly. “There is another location.”
“That’s right. Like Lan Zhan pointed out, there is indeed another location that Song Hengyi could have gotten his hands on the seal—the very same place which had mistakenly kept the man captive instead of executing him.”
Jin Guangyao’s expression imperceptibly hardens. “Sect Leader Wei, surely no one would be foolish enough to shoot themselves in their own foot like this? The only one who could have taken the seal is the Lanling Jin Sect—perhaps this brainlessly obvious conclusion is exactly what Song Hengyi wants to lead you all into drawing?”
“Tsk tsk tsk.” Wei Wuxian wags a forefinger in front of Jin Guangyao’s face. “Lianfang-zun, there is no need for you to be this defensive. Although practising demonic cultivation is strictly prohibited, we do not have any regulations against forcing others to do so.”
Jin Guangyao’s face is terrifyingly dark, however, he shows no form of weakness or hesitation for Wei Wuxian to exploit. Unfortunately for him, Su She fails to keep a similar leash on his own emotions.
“Wei Wuxian, you bastard!” Su She spits venomously, drawing Nanping and swinging it down towards the unarmed man.
Strangely enough, Wei Wuxian makes no move to dodge, and Su She is about to skid to a complete stop when Bichen intercepts him with such an astounding amount of force that it sends Nanping flying out of his numb grip.
“Lan Wangj—” Su She begins, but abruptly cuts himself off when Lan Wangji rests the point of Bichen lightly against his jugular.
“Sect Leader!” the Moling Su disciples chorus, fear evident in their shaking voices.
“What is the meaning of this, Hanguang-jun?” Sect Leader Yao interrupts while holding both hands before himself placatingly. “Let’s all calm down first, alright?”
Sect Leader Ouyang takes a small step forward as well. “Yes, yes, yes, this is definitely not the time for us to be fighting amongst ourselves. There are too many unknowns about our situation now, and we still have to find Song Hengyi to put a stop to all this."
Wei Wuxian clicks his tongue. “Sect Leader Ouyang, you say that you want to ‘put a stop to all this’ but do you truly know what ‘all this’ entails?” The purple clothed man tucks his hands behind his head and spins around on his heel. "Question one, how many of you are feeling unnaturally tired and breathless? Your limbs are getting oddly cold, and your qi isn't really circulating well?"
Everyone exchanges worried glances.
"Now that you mention it… Ever since we stepped into this place, I've been feeling something like that…"
"But everything Sect Leader Wei just listed are early symptoms of qi deviation! It shouldn't have anything to do with us!"
Wei Wuxian smiles, giving the disciple who mentioned qi deviation a hearty pat on the back. "Question two, for those of you who claim to have felt the effects I listed, did you use the incense provided in your room during the recent Discussion Conference at Lanling Jin?"
There is a small movement he catches from the corner of his eye—a slight stiffening in Jin Guangyao's posture at the mention of the incense, and Wei Wuxian is quick to continue speaking before Jin Guangyao can get a single word in.
"I tested the incense and found that it contains a poisonous substance—one which can increase the susceptibility of the human body to resentment energy, trap the energy inside, and prevent it from being cleansed by the golden core. And the scent of this poison is covered up splendidly by the fragrance of jasmine."
A loud thump comes from the distance, from Nie Huaisang who has collapsed onto his knees. His face is pale, many times whiter than a freshly prepared sheet of calligraphy paper.
"Wei-xiong, did… did you just say… jasmine scented? Then, the incense Yao-ge recommended I give to my brother… is it… could that be the cause for his sudden qi deviation…?"
Nie Huaisang’s lithe frame shakes like a leaf. Before long, he falls limply backwards, sitting his rear onto the ground. “I don’t believe it… Yao-ge had no reason to harm my Da-ge…”
“That’s right! It can’t be true! Lianfang-zun can’t possibly use such heinous and unscrupulous means! It has to be a misunderstanding!"
"The Qinghe Nie Sect's cultivation method leads to qi deviation when excessively practised anyway. The previous sect leaders all suffered the same fate. I bet Chifeng-zun's case is only an unfortunate coincidence."
Wei Wuxian scoffs. “Why is it that if I said this incense poison was from Song Hengyi, all of you would definitely believe it without a sliver of doubt, yet if I say the same poison is from Lianfang-zun, everyone immediately start to find ways to defend Lianfang-zun instead?"
Sect Leader Yao wrings his hands together. “B-But of course! They aren’t the same! Song Hengyi is a criminal!”
“Oh?” Wei Wuxian raises a brow. “Then what if I tell you that all of Song Hengyi’s crimes are conducted by Lianfang-zun? Does it change your opinion of him then?”
“This……” Sect Leader Yao trails off, eyeing Jin Guangyao nervously.
Jin Guangyao's face has gone completely white, as though it is devoid of blood. Yet, his eyes are surprisingly red.
Wei Wuxian inclines his head with a cold smile. “Well I guess the only way to get everyone to believe me is for Lianfang-zun to take out the Stygian Tiger Seal. Right, Lan Zhan?"
"Mn."
The brash Su She dives forward before Jin Guangyao, arms spread out protectively, and Lan Wangji responds to the sudden movement with an instinctual slash from Bichen, slicing right through the thick layers of Su She's formal robes.
Su She blinks. Then, all at once, blood spills from the deep gash across his chest, cascading down in thick viscous rivulets which draws attention to the hideous manner in which his skin is heavily dotted with over a dozen holes that vary in size.
"Hey, that's… Isn't that…"
There is no need for anyone to finish the sentence because everyone has the same thought in their mind: it is the Hundred Holes curse!
Yet, needless to say, this definitely isn’t simply a curse mark Su She happened to be afflicted with. If that were the case, judging from how spread-out these holes were, Su She's internal organs should have already been riddled with holes, and he would most definitely not be able to use his spiritual powers. Hence, there can only be one explanation for where these marks came from—they had to be marks left after he cursed someone else and received a backlash.
Gasping, the injured Su She immediately clutches at the torn fabric hanging loosely on his frame, attempting to close his torn lapels. However, it is already too late.
"Sect Leader Su," Wei Wuxian drawls. "Tell us the truth. How did you get these marks?"
“I…”
Wei Wuxian laughs mockingly. “Forget it. You don't have to say anything. You’ll just be digging yourself into a deeper hole if you try to speak right now. In fact, perhaps Lianfang-zun should be the one doing the explaining instead.”
Lan Wangji turns to Jin Guangyao, Bichen still unsheathed and glinting menacingly with an icy blue glare. “Sect Leader Jin, was this also part of your plan to attack Qiongqi Path?”
Su She’s expression twists. However, Jin Guangyao raises a hand to silence Su She, while continuing to level both Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian with a challenging look.
“Why do you think so?”
Wei Wuxian arches a brow. "Is it necessary to ask? If Jin Zixun wasn’t cursed, nothing that happened afterwards would have happened the way it did! The incident at Qiongqi Path essentially helped you remove both Jin Zixuan and Jin Zixun. It cleared away everything that obstructed your path to becoming the Head of Lanling Jin Sect and as well as Chief Cultivator. And now, we discovered that your trusted subordinate was behind the Hundred Holes curse. Can it get any more obvious as to whose orders he followed?”
Wei Wuxian takes another step forward, into Jin Guangyao's personal space. "The mantis stalks the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind.1 Lianfang-zun, did you really think you are the oriole?”
Jin Guangyao does not deign with an answer.
Wei Wuxian sneers. “You are nothing more than a fish swimming at the bottom of the cauldron2 right now, with nowhere to escape. So, tell me, what is your plan for asking us all to come up to Burial Mounds?"
The Jin Sect Leader slips his eyes shut with a sigh, as though he had given up on struggling. “Quenching your curiosity doesn’t come at a low price. Sect Leader Wei, are you sure you’d like to try?”
Wei Wuxian levels Jin Guangyao with a pointed stare.
Neither man moves for a long, stagnant moment, both unwilling to be the first to break eye contact.
However, Wei Wuxian finds himself left with no other choice but to leap backwards when Jin Guangyao shifts imperceptibly and Wei Wuxian catches the glint of a black object sliding out from the hem of his sleeve into his palm.
The Stygian Tiger Seal?
Su She's expression lights up with a condescending smirk. Then, as if on cue, loud hollers of pleas immediately come from Wei Wuxian's left and the latter notices several collapsed cultivators lying face down in blood-soaked robes.
Sect Leader Yao stands over the bodies, his face uncharacteristically blank as blood trickles down the length of his polished sword—the weapon which Wei Wuxian had never seen the man even draw once prior.
“Se-Sect Leader Yao? What’s wrong? Why are you brandishing your sword at our comrades?” Sect Leader Ouyang steps in to mediate, only to have Sect Leader Yao swing his blade down on him next.
Barely managing to evade the attack, Sect Leader Ouyang falls onto his rear, shrieking as he scrambles away rapidly.
“Wh-What is going on? I-Is he controlled like those cultivators earlier? But how can this be? Didn't the resentment energy clear already? How could he still have turned?!" Sect Leader Ouyang shrieks, the timbre of his voice quaking.
Just several moments ago, the latter had still been fairly animated, had still been trying to placate the disagreement between Wei Wuxian and Jin Guangyao, but now he is uncharacteristically silent, his eyes wide and bloodshot as they slowly turn from Sect Leader Ouyang to Wei Wuxian.
His gaze remains trained on Wei Wuxian for a long moment before he suddenly charges forward with a level of skill and power the sect leader has never previously displayed. Lan Wangji dives between them to intercept the attack, but even with his prowess, the Lan cultivator still finds himself struggling to deflect the Sect Leader Yao’s single strike—only finally succeeding to fling the latter backward when he uses an Eradication Tone.
Wei Wuxian narrows his eyes.
There is no way Sect Leader Yao could ever come close to matching Lan Wangji in terms of cultivation. So the only feasible reason as to why he could pull off such a strong attack, would be that the man had fallen victim to the Stygian Tiger Seal and came under the control of Jin Guangyao.
How is it possible?
How could Sect Leader Yao not show any signs of having his core broken by resentment energy?
Besides, like what Sect Leader Ouyang pointed out, the resentment energy has cleared. There was only one person who could’ve possibly commanded such a vast amount of miasma and that is Jiang Xichen, and Wei Wuxian definitely trusts that his brother did a flawless job. So, how could there still be enough resentment energy lurking around in the vicinity?
"A hare has three burrows.3 Think about it, Sect Leader Wei, you mentioned earlier that the Stygian Tiger Seal is one which would allow me to control resentment energy, and you have hit the nail on the head. However, you've made one mistake. See, controlling, at its essence, does not only involve amplification but also condensation."
Not amplification, but condensation?
Not allowing the miasma to go wild, but making sure to concentrate everything to a level which would go undetected by the victim themselves too? Then this would mean that Sect Leader Yao already had enough resentment energy concentrated inside of his body before he even showed the slightest symptom.
Sect Leader Yao was already doomed from the start.
No, scratch that. Everyone else present might very well all be the same too.
Just as the severity of their current predicament dawns on Wei Wuxian, a good portion of the sect leaders who have yet to display any symptoms, now all begin moving in unison, surrounding the remaining unturned cultivators and blocking off all their escape routes.
Tendrils of resentment energy seep forth from the sect leaders, akin to strings holding up puppets as they take a unified step forward, then another, and another, slowly but steadily closing in on Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji.
"My plan is to create a peaceful cultivation world where everyone’s voices can be heard no matter what their background is. A world where no one’s achievements will ever be undermined by their background. It is unfortunate, but in order to accomplish this–"
Jin Guangyao’s smile widens, unfettered and unrelenting.
"Sacrifices must be made.”
Notes:
1. 螳螂捕蝉，黄雀在后: to covet and pursue gains before oneself without being aware of (or neglecting) a greater danger behind. Back
2. 釜底游鱼: a fish swimming at the bottom of the cauldron/pot; a person whose fate is sealed, or a person who is in dire danger. Back
3. 狡兔三窟: a wily hare has three burrows; a craft person has more than one hideout, a sly individual has more than one plan to fall back on Back
***
This last arc of Asunder be like:
Chapter 34: Repudiation II
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
<PRESENT>
Sacrifices are inevitable.
Jiang Xichen knows this. He knows just exactly how inevitable losses can be during times of conflict, yet the man still finds it terribly difficult to stomach the cruel sight of carnage: piles of corpses strewn haphazardly before him; some faceless, others dismembered, and a handful reduced to a mere tangle of mangled limbs.
There are no signs of any bloodshed—at least not yet—but Jiang Xichen notices thick wisps of jet-black energy spilling forth from the clean cuts Sandu made through rotting flesh. The vapours elongate into thin tendrils which reach out from one broken body part to another, twining around each other to connect and rearrange the disjointed portions back into a single upright figure.
It lunges straight at Jiang Xichen, arms outstretched, and he barely manages to dive out of the way, only to have another reassembled corpse pounce on him from behind. Jiang Xichen whirls around on his heel, reaching for Xianyue, but pauses when Lan Wanyin rips the grimy corpse away from him with a precise blow through its chest.
It sprawls backwards, emitting a series of odd gurgling sounds through the hole in its chest as threads of demonic energy begin unfurling in the space almost immediately, weaving itself together piece by piece until the wound completely closes up within the span of several seconds.
An undead army.
Jiang Xichen draws in a sharp inhale, furrowing his brows as the mutilated bodies simply rise back to their feet and continue closing in on them on all fronts.
From beside him, Lan Wanyin pants breathlessly and somewhat uncharacteristically, his chest heaving from exertion as sweat trickles down from the man’s temple to his jaw. His complexion is much paler than usual, and as Jiang Xichen watches, Lan Wanyin’s fingers become somewhat shaky, and his hold on Sandu seemingly falters.
"Wanyin–" Jiang Xichen begins, only to have Lan Wanyin interrupt him curtly.
"It is not a cause of concern. Just focus on reconstructing the runes."
Jiang Xichen purses his lips.
It's logical, he knows. After all, Lan Wanyin has already completed the arrays, so all that is left is repairing the runes; and the faster he manages to do that, the faster they would be able to contain the dark energy on Burial Mounds, leaving less to be at Jin Guangyao's disposal.
However, what they'd missed in their haste is that all of this is likely already part of Jin Guangyao's plan.
In fact, thinking back now, Jiang Xichen realises that he should have seen through it from the very moment they found an ambush waiting for them here.
Jin Guangyao knows he is the Yiling Patriarch.
Jin Guangyao knows he'd likely be recuperating at Lotus Pier.
Jin Guangyao knows he'd have overheard the news about the corpses' movement to Yiling, and predicted that he'd come all the way down to Burial Mounds just to stop it.
But something still doesn't quite add up.
Why did Jin Guangyao try to lure them here with such an elaborate scheme only to set up an ambush right by the entrance?
If the idea was to kill them, it would have been so much easier to do enroute, at a place where there isn't much resentment energy for Jiang Xichen to use. Or, if it had to be on the Burial Mounds, he'd have expected Jin Guangyao to use higher level corpses with more power at the very least.
Unless the plan was never to kill, but to slow them down?
That would make the most sense, especially with how the deactivated runes are left mostly intact, as though taunting Jiang Xichen—and with someone as calculative and shrewd as Jin Guangyao at the helm of this scheme, there is zero chance this is a mere oversight.
It has to be a trap. But what, and how?
"Xichen, what are you waiting for–” Lan Wanyin hisses, but the rest of his words taper off into a wince when a blow lands a tad too close for comfort. He takes a step to the side, dodging the brunt of the attack, but sharp nails scrape in a line across his pallid cheek all the same, leaving behind a large angry red slash in its wake.
Hurriedly, Jiang Xichen carves out the last remaining stroke to connect the inactivated runes to Lan Wanyin's array. The air shifts in that single instant, clicking into place just as the combined incantation whirrs to life with a blur of dark purple.
As if on cue, the corpses encircling them fall over all at once.
Dark tendrils of resentment energy seep out from the unmoving bodies as they watch, shooting forward without any ounce of restraint. However, instead of approaching the runes, they speed towards Lan Wanyin as though drawn by an unseen force, twisting around the man's retreating wrist and winding up the length of his forearm within the span of mere milliseconds.
Alarmed, Lan Wanyin attempts to slash through the restraints using Sandu, only to be stopped by the tendrils tightening obnoxiously around his joints and holding them concretely in place. A frigid chill from the pure concentrated source of yin energy trickles into his skin, bringing with it a sensation which is so acutely cold to the point of being scalding hot. It blazes a path straight to his golden core, enveloping and biting into it like thorny vines.
Lan Wanyin flinches.
A spittle of blood makes its way up the back of his throat, flooding his senses with the cloyingly sweet scent of copper.
The sharp and shrill tinkle of a bell strikes out once, and Jiang Xichen uses the chance to yank Lan Wanyin backwards and away from the reach of the demonic energy.
It's the incense—Lan Wanyin had used it back at Koi Tower too, Jiang Xichen realises after a beat, but doesn't have the respite to consider a countermeasure when the freed miasma latches greedily onto him instead, attracted like flies to a fresh meat as they twine compulsively up his shoulder and constrict painfully around his neck in a matter of seconds.
Jiang Xichen chokes, his vision blurs rapidly.
Echoing noises originating from the miasma trickle into his consciousness, but fortunately for him, they are no longer at the unbearable volume which he is used to. In fact, it sounds muffled, almost muted even, as though there is a barrier present which prevents the dark energy from coming into close contact with him.
Then, from the corner of his eye, Jiang Xichen briefly registers Lan Wanyin's lips moving, and the coughing Jiang Xichen immediately snaps back into focus, promptly tugging Lan Wanyin behind himself and angling his body to shield the slighter man.
The Bell of Clarity tucked deep into his robes rings aloud again, louder this time, and the tendrils fall away from the duo almost instantaneously, coiling in retreat like a frightened predator.
"What was that about…?" Lan Wanyin asks, his voice ragged.
However, Jiang Xichen realises he doesn't have the luxury of formulating a coherent answer when he notices the retreating miasma slinking skywards as if commanded, folding in on itself over and over again until it combines and condenses into a dense tumultuous mass of ebony.
The air around them shifts yet again, turning from an unnerving eeriness to being oppressively heavy.
Jiang Xichen finds himself swallowing thickly under the acute pressure.
There can only be one logical reason as to why the runes and arrays are not working as planned: Jin Guangyao and the other sect leaders must be already on Burial Mounds.
After all, Jiang Xichen has had enough first-hand experiences to understand just how potent Jin Guangyao's incense poison is at attracting the miasma; and that, when multiplied with the effectiveness of Xue Yang’s seal at controlling resentment energy, would certainly suffice to outdo the effects of the runes.
However, Jin Guangyao has made one fatal miscalculation.
Similar to how the wily fox himself had drawn inspiration from Jiang Xichen's method of controlling Nie Mingjue at Lanling, the latter too, had conjured up a method which mimics the inner workings of the seal after his encounter with Xue Yang at Yi City—by using sound waves instead of his own body as a medium, thus amplifying the distance and amount of resentment energy he can control while reducing the burden on his fragmenting golden core.
At least, in theory.
Keeping his attention trained on the swirling cloud, Jiang Xichen then lifts the xiao to his lips and unleashes several harsh notes of an abnormally shrill pitch, attempting to seize control of the energy just like how he managed to do the same on the reassembled Nie Mingjue at the Mingshi.
The miasma overhead stills, freezing completely in place for a split second before the entire mass warps, curling exaggeratedly in on itself. The runes behind them light up on cue, fuelled by the ceaseless stream of spiritual energy Lan Wanyin pours in, and the two contrasting qi meets in mid-air, entwining around each other to form a dome which stretches down to the perimeter of Burial Mounds.
All at once, the dark pillars of energy around them clear, revealing the excruciatingly familiar yet vastly different landscape of Burial Mounds. The simple thatched houses the Wens haphazardly built, the tree stumps they’d jokingly fashioned into makeshift tables, the plots of land they tried to farm on—none of these have remained completely intact throughout the seven long years. Yet it is the remainder and the reminder of what had been, that makes Jiang Xichen’s heart ache with the undeniable sense of loss.
It is a rather strange feeling, to say the least, for him to be able to come back in a completely different body seven years later and witness the aftermath of his death, to process the full extent of all the poor decisions he’d made in his previous life.
And this time too, even as Song Hengyi, he finds himself in the same circumstances as before, facing off against the same group of people who desperately want him dead.
“It is not the same. It will not be the same.”
Jiang Xichen gives a start upon hearing those words, glancing over to Lan Wanyin in shock. Lan Wanyin meets his searching gaze head on, his conviction as unfaltering as his expression.
An arm wraps securely around Jiang Xichen's waist, lifting the latter up into the air before he is even able to finish processing his thoughts.
The hovering Sandu dips momentarily under their combined weight, wavering for a fraction of a second before it soars in earnest, cutting its way straight through the thinning layer of clouds in a single swift motion.
A frenzied rush of howling wind roars against Jiang Xichen’s ears, but even that fails to drown out Lan Wanyin's unspoken promise.
It will not be the same this time.
I will not let it be the same.
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
Meanwhile, chaos ensues atop the summit of Burial Mounds with the sect leaders turning into controlled puppets one after another under the influence of the seal, slowly closing in on the remaining panicking survivors.
The timing itself has certainly derailed far from what was originally planned—they weren’t supposed to break the cores of any sect leader until the guy named Song Hengyi made an appearance, but still, it is not a debilitating miscalculation. Everything is still proceeding swimmingly, and Su Minshan stands amidst it all, with pride and satisfaction swelling in his chest.
He hasn’t felt quite this way in a long time, not ever since the day he received word of his acceptance into the prestigious Gusu Lan Sect and had his parents acknowledge his presence and ability over his brother’s for the first time ever. He can still clearly remember the thrill, rush and joy he had felt that day, remember how his spirits had soared with his family’s recognition, remember how his body had shaken with the triumph of clinching a successful victory; and now, his heart is fluttering in a very similar manner.
He wants Jin Guangyao’s recognition, yearns to prove his usefulness by helping the man realise his vision—or rather, their vision of creating a peaceful cultivation world where everyone’s voices can be heard and no one’s achievements will ever be undermined.
So no talented child would ever have to experience the same desperation and loneliness as he did.
So no talented child would ever have to play second fiddle to a group of old, smarmy, half-wit fools.
So no talented child would ever have to suffer.
As though responding to Su Minshan’s gloat, dark wisps begin leaking from the monstrously large gaping wound on Sect Leader Yao’s head. Loose tendrils snake out from the wound the Eradication Tone had left in his skull, weaving into each other to stitch the undead man back together. Then, Sect Leader Yao's eyes roll languidly in their sunken sockets while it slowly straightens itself up to present a perfectly mended form—one which is indistinguishable from the usual Sect Leader Yao, if not for the man’s strangely blank expression.
“That’s… How is that possible?!”
“Is he a corpse? Are all the others like this too?”
“How can Sect Leader Yao be a corpse! He looks nothing like one! He was still alive and kicking just mere moments ago!”
“What are you saying? That’s exactly the issue! Who knows how many others we have here who are like him!”
The disciples glance uneasily at each other, tightening their grips on the hilt of their swords as realisation dawns on them that their only enemies are not solely the ones who look like corpses.
"Minshan," Jin Guangyao mutters under his breath and it is all the prompting Su Minshan needs.
Gaining control over Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji might have been the cornerstone to their plan, but with them being completely unaffected by the incense, these two are nothing more than threats to their scheme at this point, mere liabilities which he needs to get rid of.
The only ones who will live to tell the tale of this second siege will be those who have come under the influence of the seal and sworn fealty to the Chief Cultivator, and their very first job is to get rid of all the other unturned cultivators.
Sharp clang of swords alongside panicked screams and pleas fill the area, leaving the majority of the disciples too busy trying to escape from their affected peers and sect leaders to care about the fight concerning other individuals.
Using the disturbance to his advantage, Su Minshan then swiftly angles his body to the side with a flourish, using the factor of surprise to sweep the legs out from under them. Lan Wangji sidesteps the bland attack easily, unimpressed. However, unbeknownst to him, it is precisely this response that Su Minshan is hoping for, and he then triumphantly hooks the tip of his boot under Nanping's hilt and kicks the dropped weapon back up into his hand.
“A pig who’d gained a stick it can wave around is still ultimately a pig, don’t you think so, Lan Zhan?”
Without waiting for Lan Wangji’s response to Wei Wuxian’s snark, Su Minshan promptly infuses Nanping with a condensed burst of his own spiritual energy. Nanping glows brightly in his grip, the length of its blade enveloped in a blast of swirling radiance as it speeds in a single thrust towards Wei Wuxian, going straight for the kill.
Narrowing his eyes, Lan Wangji swings Bichen diagonally upward to intercept Nanping’s trajectory.
The two blue sword glares meet at an angle, eliciting an ear-splitting screech of metal against metal which rings out all across the peak of Burial Mounds.
“Lan Wangji!” Su Minshan spits vehemonously, seeing red. “Don’t get in my way!”
“Know your place.”
The Lan sect leader has merely uttered these three simple words, and yet Su Minshan finds himself feeling much more humiliated by Lan Wangji’s verbal response than the way the latter completely overwhelms him in a display of strength, forcing him to dig his boot into the dirt and take on a defensive stance just to stay upright.
No, he can't lose here.
He has been through too much for too long to lose here—especially to Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian!
"I truly feel for you, Lianfang-zun," Wei Wuxian comments offhandedly, his expression twisting as he speaks, morphing into a horrid one which perfectly matches his atrocious personality. "It must be hard for you, needing to deal with someone of this calibre daily."
"What do you mean by that?!" Su Minshan thunders, losing every single remaining shred of his composure.
Perhaps it is his latent hatred for Lan Wangji who had mercilessly expelled him from the sect, or maybe it is his distaste for the abhorrent Wei Wuxian who has less innate talent and diligence than a pure sloth, but the air around the enraged man is buzzing, warping and crackling from the sheer amount of spiritual energy.
Yet, Wei Wuxian appears completely unfazed.
Su Minshan scowls, thoroughly incensed at the blatant disrespect and underestimation.
How could he? How dare he?!
Su She tightens his grip on Nanping, about to brashly pour even more spiritual energy into his blade when a remarkably euphonious voice sounds from behind him, immediately blowing away every ounce of his mounting dissatisfaction and replacing it with a sense of tranquil calmness.
"I do feel for you too, Sect Leader Wei. You've placed so much time and energy into uncovering the truth behind the Yiling Patriarch’s death in order to clear his name, but unfortunately, you’d be long gone before getting to the bottom of the matter, and your untimely sacrifice here will cement your brother’s downfall again.”
A dark shadow slants across Wei Wuxian’s features, giving Su Minshan the delight of finally seeing Wei Wuxian getting thrown off rhythm. However, his glee is pathetically short-lived when the infuriating man gives an audible snort and easily slips back into his practised ease.
“Oh? Lianfang-zun, do you mean to say that you were also involved in my shijie’s death?”
Jin Guangyao inclines his head, full lips stretching into a poised smile.
“My hands are impeccably clean, Sect Leader Wei."
Wei Wuxian scoffs.
A sizzling rope of crimson flashes in Wei Wuxian’s hand the very next second, fuelled by the sudden surge of the man’s killing intent.
Su Minshan immediately rushes forth upon sensing the bold shift in the atmosphere, hurriedly attempting to dive in between the incoming attack and his benefactor, but to no avail. There is no way he could possibly make it in time, and he can only stand in place with his limbs seizing and throat drying as he watches the whip of spiritual energy slashing freely through the air, casting a blinding glare which tears across the summit as it veers rapidly towards Jin Guangyao.
It cracks against skin, bringing along with it the acrid stench of charred flesh, as the whip forcefully slashes through the body of the cultivator right down to the dirt mound under him.
Thick clouds of dust rise up into the air as a result and Su Minshan chokes in despair, with fresh hot tears prickling his red-rimmed eyes.
"Wei Wuxian! How dare… How dare you!" Su Minshan bellows.
He can't hold back the anguish of having his friend murdered right before his eyes; and perhaps it is because of this keen explosion of emotion that Su Minshan’s attack becomes uncharacteristically swift and ruthless. It is no longer the lackadaisical moves which are a poor mirror of Gusu Lan's, and the barrage of attacks have such strong ferocity that even Wei Wuxian is forced to take a step back.
Then, as he had anticipated, Lan Wangji eagerly tries to intervene at once.
Su Minshan spins on his heel without pause, eager to decimate the couple once and for all, only to be pleasantly surprised when corpses tear through their very first layer of defence and fling themselves toward Lan Wangji.
Corpses which only Jin Guangyao can control!
Su Minshan whirls around, eyes widened in surprise, and only allows himself to let out a suppressed sigh of relief when he catches sight of Jin Guangyao. The man is completely unscathed, his pale skin unharmed and dark brown hair without a single strand out of place.
Meanwhile, the charred remains of Sect Leader Yao lay pathetically sprawled out on the ground, with a huge wound seared through his torso. The body twitches several times, relentlessly at first before slowly easing up as tendrils of resentment energy ooze out from the lifeless mass.
Wei Wuxian clears his throat. "Oh? Is that the seal I see you clutching there, Lianfang-zun? I never expected you to whip it out that quickly."
Jin Guangyao tightens his grip on the ominously dark object in his hand while keeping his eyes trained on Wei Wuxian. "Really? I was under the impression that you were forcing my hand with that amazing attack earlier."
"An amazing attack? I'm flattered, Lianfang-zun, but I must say, bending the will of your old friends and forcing them to shield you isn't a very splendid move,” Wei Wuxian scoffs humorlessly, his lips set in a thin line with unconcealed scorn directed straight at Jin Guangyao, to which the latter merely chuckles genially in response.
"Why are you making me out to be the bad person? I have only gotten him to stand there. You are the one who slashed him, aren't you?" Jin Guangyao inclines his head, adding loudly in an urbane tone. "Ah, I understand now. Sect Leader Wei, you must be one of them."
The fighting cultivators whirl around at once to stare at Wei Wuxian.
No matter how much they wish to believe Jin Guangyao’s words or otherwise, the fact remains that they are unable to effectively differentiate those who are under the control of the seal and those who aren’t, and as long as this dilemma is not resolved, the disciples find themselves unable to take anyone’s words at face value.
Can Wei Wuxian’s words even be trusted?
They had just witnessed how Sect Leader Yao and the other turned cultivators barely looked or behaved any differently from usual after all. Who’s to say that Wei Wuxian isn’t the same? And if Wei Wuxian isn’t under the influence of the seal, does it mean that Jin Guangyao, who he had been in a dispute with ever since they gathered at Lanling, is the one affected instead?
While the majority of the cultivators hesitate with the two options before them, unable to pick a side, a brave young cultivator lunges at Wei Wuxian without notice.
His sword swings towards Wei Wuxian’s neck without restraint, bringing along with it the sharp whistling of wind which ends abruptly with a loud clang when it smashes into a bright blue barrier.
Everything explodes outward in the very next moment, sweeping the young disciple off his feet with a rush of heat. Vivid sharp notes uncharacteristic of the soothing tone of a regular xiao cut in next, screeching painfully in everyone’s eardrums.
A sombre full-bodied sound accompanies it soon after, mellowing out the xiao’s discordant notes to form a bright melody which pierces through the gathering swarm of resentment energy overhead. It hollows a path straight from the skies down to the earth, to reveal the two cultivators atop a blade, gliding through a thin blue temporary barrier.
"Song… Song Hengyi?!”
The cultivators glance to and fro from Jiang Xichen and Jin Guangyao, as though they cannot make up their minds on who to trust.
Who is the true mastermind behind their current plight: the demonic cultivator who had just commanded resentment energy right before their eyes, or the Chief Cultivator who they just uncovered a completely hidden side of?
However Jiang Xichen does not give them any time to ponder about the intricacies. With his full attention trained on the young disciple, the man then shifts his playing into another melody which causes the youth to double over, groaning on the ground.
The resentment energy hidden inside the boy's body flares, brimming and waning along with the ups and dips in the music. His body convulses as a result, writhing exaggeratedly while blackened veins creep up his face, spreading out like spiderwebs under the surface of his skin.
"T-That disciple… He was turned…?"
"He attacked Sect Leader Wei! That means they are on different sides!"
"Then, the one that is with the enemy is—"
All eyes land unanimously on Jin Guangyao.
"What are you guys insinuating?! Are you out of your mind? This is our Chief Cultivator you know? He's the one who set up the lookout towers to help those poor people in remote villages. Of course someone as magnanimous as that wouldn't be the evil one controlling the disciple. It has to be the demonic cultivator!"
Wei Wuxian scoffs. "I thought my memory was terrible but it seems that yours is far worse. Have you already forgotten that Lianfang-zun created an incense which he used not only during the Discussion Conference, but also to poison Chifeng-zun? Even up until now, we have not found the man's head!"
At the mention of his brother, Nie Huaisang who had been slumped on the ground and shaking in fear all this while now perks up with tears in his eyes. “Yao-ge… Please tell me that you aren’t the one… Tell me that you didn’t have a hand in Da-ge’s death!”
The yellow-robed cultivator lets out a small, suppressed sigh of disappointment.
“A-Sang. We have known each other for years, yet you would choose to believe another person’s words over mine?”
The corners of Wei Wuxian’s lips lift into a sneer. “Lianfang-zun, ah, Lianfang-zun, I suggest that you stop playing the familiarity card.
If you are really on such good terms with Nie-xiong, then why don't you tell him where you hid his brother's head?"
Jin Guangyao's expression remains passive. "I cannot give information which I do not know. Besides, if you truly have Huaisang's interests at heart, you would not be using him to fish for information like this."
"Fish for information? For what purpose?"
"Not for yourself, Sect Leader Wei, but for Song Hengyi. A curse mark that wouldn't clear unless you reassemble the dismembered corpse is a pretty textbook example of a hex, isn't it? At least it would explain why both you and Song Hengyi seem unnaturally obsessed with collecting Chifeng-zun's body parts."
—A sect leader, having dealings with a demonic cultivator? How preposterous!
Hushed whispers erupt around the nervous cultivators as they find themselves doubting Wei Wuxian once again.
Amidst this all, the purple-robed sect leader simply folds his arms and hums under his breath, making no move to actively deny any of the accusations aloud. Instead, he appears even more at ease than usual, casually raking his gaze over the handful of uneasy cultivators, before pausing on the smiling Jin Guangyao.
“Lianfang-zun, you truly have a way with words. But no matter how gifted you are, you still can’t malign me without any evidence.”
“I do have evidence,” Jin Guangyao counters instantly, grabbing everyone’s attention. “In fact, the evidence is right here, in this very area. The reason why an unprecedented amount of resentment energy and corpses were attracted to us is because of your demonic invention, Sect Leader Wei, namely, the spirit attraction flags.”
Spirit attraction flags are indeed one of his inventions, created from the idea of luring in spirits, ghosts, corpses, and evil creatures within a certain radius, so as to reduce the time and effort needed for a cultivator to find their prey.
Wei Wuxian had tested this item out in a night-hunt prior and found it to still be largely incomplete and infeasible. However, what matters in the face of this accusation is not whether this method works but the fact that it exists—and Jin Guangyao has already taken the concept of illustrating his point one step further with the next new wave of corpses charging straight towards them.
The makeshift barrier erected by Lan Wanyin earlier shatters upon impact and the cultivator immediately leaps off of Sandu and strums the qin he is cradling in his free hand.
A clear note rings out from the instrument, joined shortly after by harsh screeches which actively strips the miasma away from the approaching corpses. They fall over, twitching incessantly, and Jiang Xichen seizes control of the extracted miasma to clear a straight path from Lan Wanyin to Jin Guangyao.
Su Minshan dashes forward at once, intending to rush over to Jin Guangyao immediately, but a pointed look from the latter has him flipping around and leaping over the horde to change directions instead.
It is a risk, but it is a calculated risk.
That’s right. He only has enough time to deal with one person, and the largest threat here is undoubtedly Jiang Xichen.
As talented as Jin Guangyao is, the man knows that claiming mastery of such a huge amount of resentment energy would mean that there are definitely parts which he would have a weaker command over. He knows that the heinous Jiang Xichen will aim to seize control through those weak spots to slowly whittle down his power.
So, there is only one thing to do: kill Jiang Xichen.
Without Jiang Xichen, no one else can stand up to the seal anymore. They would all just be sitting ducks, waiting for Jin Guangyao to regain control over the resentment energy which that blasted pest stole from him and use it to stamp them all out!
Resolve renewed, Su Minshan propels himself forward and charges at Jiang Xichen, arm outstretched and aimed for the kill. Nanping is headed directly for the man's beating heart and Su Minshan's smirk widens.
He can almost taste victory on the tip of his tongue, taste the moment his efforts of laying the foundation over the past decade finally pays off—just a tiny bit more until his shared vision with Jin Guangyao comes true.
The tip of Nanping pierces fabric, and right at the moment when Su Minshan should be thrusting the sword in, he feels his grip involuntarily fall lax. Pain flares up his arm as the sharp blade of Wei Wuxian's sword tears across his wrist and rends a deep gash across his ligaments and tendons.
Nanping falls out from his weakened grip but before the sword even hits the ground, Su Minshan feels a boot smash into the side of his skull. The world tilts sideways all at once and he collapses unceremoniously onto the ground, unmoving.
Does he still stand a chance? Jin Guangyao finds himself thinking when he spots Su Minshan being taken out so easily by Wei Wuxian alone.
Perhaps everything was doomed from the very moment he realised Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji weren't affected by the incense, yet he still obstinately chose to continue with his scheme.
If everything went according to his plan, then he would have only taken control of all the sect leaders when Song Hengyi arrived at the summit. That way, he could have claimed that the resentment energy was used solely by the demonic cultivator, all while easily using the turned sect leaders to kill off Song Hengyi.
It was a flawless plan, one which would put him at the same amount of splendour as when he took down Wen Ruohan during the Sunshot Campaign, but he had been impatient—far too impatient—and he is paying the price for it now.
Determined, Jin Guangyao then draws Hensheng, knowing that he will have no other choice but to face Lan Wanyin head on if he wishes to have any chance of winning this.
He can’t fail here, not yet; not until he fulfils his mother’s dream of seeing him succeed in life. He has already become the sect leader of the Lanling Jin Sect. He has already become the Chief Cultivator. All that is left is this one last step to tie up all the loose ends and cement his authority in place forever.
Jin Guangyao lunges forward next, trying to seize the momentum and gain the upper hand with the element of surprise. He does not possess the necessary cultivation foundation after all. If he lets Lan Wanyin take the lead here and turn this into a battle of skills, he will definitely be done for.
A flash of bright blue catches Jin Guangyao’s attention from the corner of his eye and he barely manages to spring backwards in time to avoid getting his throat ripped out by thin blue threads.
Lan Wangji…!
Jin Guangyao commands corpses to keep the Lan Sect Leader busy, but he can’t find the time to catch another breath before Lan Wanyin sends Sandu at him. The two blades meet, producing a sharp screech of metal against metal as Sandu scrapes down the length of the golden sword. Standing his ground, Jin Guangyao tightens his grip on Hensheng and prepares to wreathe it around Sandu and disarm Lan Wanyin, however the unexpectedly strong blow smashing into Hensheng’s handguard sends him sprawling backwards.
“As expected of the Two Jades of Lan,” Jin Guangyao comments humorlessly through a mouthful of blood. “To think that you can even make a simple sword incantation pack so much power.”
Lan Wanyin does not respond verbally. Instead, he merely narrows his eyes, regarding Jin Guangyao with pure contempt.
Jin Guangyao chuckles, his tone shifting. “Don’t glare at me like that. I am genuinely impressed by your fighting prowess. However, it seems like you still have not shaken off your naïvety. Did you really think that if you take me down here, the world will just simply let him go? Of course not! Once I am out of the picture, they will go after him next."
"Ridiculous. I have no desire to listen to the pathetic pleas of someone who is at his wits end."
“You refuse to heed my words because you know better than anyone else that it is the truth. Because you have experienced the same thing before, seen how everyone changed their tune after the Sunshot Campaign. You were there then, and you did nothing to stop it."
Lan Wanyin clenches his jaw. "It would not be the same this time."
"Because the circumstances are different? Because you are by his side this time?” Jin Guangyao raises a brow. “Well, at the very least I'll applaud you for the comical take your navïety has presented us with. It is certainly interesting to see how much emphasis you put on your singular presence."
"What the fuck do you mean by that?!"
Lan Wanyin’s expression is enough to send shivers down one’s spine but Jin Guangyao remains calm, relaxed, undaunted.
"Very simple, really. Even if you feel ready to take on the entire world by his side, do you think he will just stand by and watch you do it?"
“What do you know about him!”
“Do not answer him, Cheng-di!” Wei Wuxian yells, but unfortunately, his warning is totally drowned out by the roar of rage in Lan Wanyin’s head.
Jin Guangyao is known to be good with words. However his talent lies not solely with his placating skill, but the fact that he is able to dig down to people's deepest fears with mere words alone—and as soon as Lan Wanyin begins talking with him, begins listening to him, the latter has already essentially lost the battle.
"Let me pose the same question to you too: what do you know about him?" Jin Guangyao continues, as though Wei Wuxian has not spoken. “You claim to be in love, but how certain are you that the one you are in love with isn’t merely your own constructed ideal image of him? That’s why you were at a loss when he came back differently during the Sunshot Campaign.”
Lan Wanyin’s pupils shrink.
Amidst the tumultuous emotions churning inside the man’s head, a small weakness appears in his movements—and what Jin Guangyao had been waiting for is precisely this moment of hesitation.
Anger makes one's thought processes and actions become extremely predictable, and as expected, the Lan cultivator simply grabs the hovering Sandu from mid-air and charges straight at him in the shortest possible route, without any feints or strategies. A simple and straightforward attack, and one almost too blatantly readable for someone of Lan Wanyin’s calibre.
Jin Guangyao twists his upper body, cleverly putting up the guise of attempting to evade Lan Wanyin’s incoming attack. Then, as the overconfident white-robed cultivator proceeds to thrust his blade forward in a poor attempt to stab him through the heart, the Jin Sect Leader then deftly sidesteps it before making a sudden lunge forward.
The throat of Hensheng’s scabbard meets the tip of Sandu with utmost precision, and Lan Wanyin finds himself unable to do anything to break his ongoing momentum. From opposite him, Jin Guangyao’s lips curl into a condescending smirk as Sandu slips down and into Hensheng’s scabbard just as he’d planned, and with a sharp flick of his arm, he then wrenches the spiritual weapon out from Lan Wanyin’s grasp.
“It is a fighting style that a person as gifted in cultivation such as yourself would have never expected, isn’t it?” Jin Guangyao jeers, his eyes slanting into mocking crescents as he swings Hensheng towards Lan Wanyin’s abdomen with a reverse grip—only to be forced to a total stop by a hand.
“Having a need to protect another and getting angry for the sake of others, both of these are things which a person as unfeeling as yourself will never be capable of understanding, isn’t it?”
Jiang Xichen grips onto the blade with force, and Jin Guangyao immediately pours a small but effective amount of spiritual energy into Hensheng, making the tender blade warp and vibrate with a frequency which forces the demonic cultivator to release his hold before it rips his flesh into ribbons.
Jin Guangyao regards Jiang Xichen's scathing tone with a mild arch of his brows, before schooling his features back into its usual polite neutrality as he blandly takes in the sight of blood leaking down from Jiang Xichen’s fingers to his wrist, where it immediately dyes the fabric at the hem of his sleeve into a deep shade.
“But of course. There is simply no benefit to that. As things stand, aren't you unable to use your xiao anymore?”
“And what of it?” Jiang Xichen counters. He does not even cast as much as a single glance down at his bleeding hand as he speaks, but Lan Wanyin finds his attention drawn to the steady stream flowing from the deep wound, which will likely not cease any time soon because Song Hengyi’s core is far too damaged to even mend a simple injury.
That, along with the continuous blood loss from the enlarging ritual wounds should have been more than enough to cripple Jiang Xichen, yet the man appears completely unaffected as he stands there glaring at Jin Guangyao.
However, the yellow-clad Chief Cultivator simply laughs.
“Why do you think I planned this on the Burial Mounds? Think about it: I am not the only one here who can control resentment energy. There is no reason for me to put myself at such a disadvantage—unless of course, there is something here which would give me an edge."
The sound of fighting is deafening around them, yet that singular space surrounding Jin Guangyao, Jiang Xichen and Lan Wanyin is deathly silent.
"Let me give you a clue. There are two things. The very first is the incense poison. Song Hengyi was an exceedingly exceptional test subject I used to develop it. In other words, his body is currently filled with an incredible amount of resentment energy I can control at will with the seal Xue Yang made."
Jin Guangyao's smirk widens, his voice falling to the volume of a hushed whisper. "And secondly, the Sacrificial Ritual. Dark techniques draw power from negativity and suffering. So, what do you think the conditions here on Burial Mounds will do to his ritual wounds?"
It will worsen them.
It doesn't take a genius to know the answer—not after Jin Guangyao had taken the time and effort to explain it down to the very last detail.
Lan Wanyin snaps his attention over to Jiang Xichen at once, but before he is able to identify any signs of exacerbation, Jiang Xichen vomits out a mouthful of dark, foul blood.
Opposite him, Jin Guangyao’s eyes twinkle triumphantly.
“Love is such a scary thing, don’t you agree, Lan er-gongzi?" the yellow-clad Chief Cultivator says tauntingly, and the Lan cultivator finds his body leaping into action long before his mind has even successfully wrapped itself around their current situation.
Sandu is still with Jin Guangyao, and the distance is too short for him to use his qin either.
It is most definitely an overwhelming disadvantage for Lan Wanyin but he doesn’t have the leeway to concern himself with it as he focuses on curling his hand into a fist and swinging it straight into Jin Guangyao's face.
Jin Guangyao sidesteps the attack easily with his fleet footwork—an obvious imitation of Yunmeng Jiang’s technique, which he'd maliciously incorporated. "Never in my wildest dreams would I have ever imagined that someone from the Gusu Lan Sect would think of behaving in such a barbaric manner."
"And never before in my wildest dreams would I have imagined that a filthy thief such as yourself would think you have the right to lecture others on propriety!" Lan Wanyin spits in retaliation, and the only warning he gets is a momentary darkening of Jin Guangyao’s countenance before Hensheng comes slicing up at him.
He hears the whistling of wind against the blade before he sees the glint of its edge, and unfortunately, there is no time for Lan Wanyin to form a sword incantation to summon Sandu back, and he is left with no other choice but to spring away to put some distance between them.
"Calling me a 'thief' is pushing it a little too far, don't you think? All I did was merely applying the techniques I learned through observation into practicals."
Lan Wanyin scoffs. "Mincing words."
"It wouldn't be the only thing I am mincing soon."
Hensheng changes its trajectory in mid-air, chasing after the retreating Lan Wanyin like a predator hellbent on catching up to its fleeing prey.
In a quick display of wit and instincts, Lan Wanyin dives forward instead of away, forcibly pulling himself out of Hensheng’s range with this unexpected move. It leaves Jin Guangyao momentarily stunned and Lan Wanyin seizes this created opening to drive his elbow into Jin Guangyao's forearm.
A satisfying crack sounds and Lan Wanyin strikes Jin Guangyao across the face next before the latter even manages to let out a muffled groan of pain. Red blooms on Jin Guangyao's jaw where Lan Wanyin's punch had landed, joined shortly after by the bright smear of blood trickling from his split lip.
Jin Guangyao instinctively raises a hand to his bloodied face and Lan Wanyin grabs his arm, pressing down into the acupoint on his wrist with just enough spiritual energy that forces the Chief Cultivator's knees to buckle and his body to collapse heavily onto the ground.
Lan Wanyin can almost feel his xiongzhang's appalled judgement at his barbaric fighting method, but he knows that Wei Wuxian would be proud at least. After all, this is the man who claims there is nothing such as an underhanded method or a dirty move as long as you are the victor.
The Lan cultivator retrieves Sandu and points it at Jin Guangyao's throat.
"You have nowhere to escape. Just give up and turn everyone back."
"Turn them back?" Jin Guangyao laughs, his demeanour resembling a crazed beast more than his usual non-confrontational passiveness—as though the man had realised there is no longer a need for him to put up a docile pretence. "Just like Song Zichen you have met at Yi City, this change is irreversible. The very moment their cores have been broken, there is no going back. Besides, it might be better for them—for a cultivator to lose his core… well, both of you should know better than anyone else how devastating that is.”
Sandu shakes. Its sharp edge digs into Jin Guangyao’s skin, nearly drawing blood.
“Lan er-gongzi, I assure you that the last thing you'd want to do is to slay me by your own hand. That is, unless you enjoy the prospect of seeing your beloved bleed to death."
The Sacrificial Ritual! The spirit who was summoned would have to be the one to fulfil the caster's wish—to kill Jin Guangyao in this case. If Jin Guangyao dies before that, then Jiang Xichen would be unable to complete the request, and the incisions from the ritual will widen further until Song Hengyi's body succumbs to blood loss.
Lan Wanyin's glare turns ruthlessly frigid. "You are lying."
"Indeed, I might be, but can you really bear risking his life to find out?" Jin Guangyao's tone is confident, and rightfully so, because he is holding a trump card in his hand.
Jiang Xichen is in far too much pain right now to even form words, let alone attack him, and so long as he pushes the point that Jiang Xichen has to kill him with his own two hands, both Lan Wanyin and Wei Wuxian wouldn't be able to bring themselves to do anything to him.
The only wild card here is Lan Wangji, the man who allegedly hates Jiang Xichen so much that Jin Guangyao suspects the sect leader might even try killing him just to ensure Jiang Xichen's demise; but Lan Wanyin's presence and disapproval alone should be more than enough to stop that blundering ball of overprotectiveness.
But to Jin Guangyao's utmost surprise, Lan Wanyin shows absolutely no signs of distress with regards to the revelation. In fact, his features glint with an almost sadistic glow.
"Great. So that means I get to torture you as much as I want to, up until the brink of death. Why don't we start with breaking a leg or two?"
Jin Guangyao blanches.
Who is this?1
Is this really the same Lan er-gongzi who had once wilfully prioritised his infatuation with Jiang Xichen over his sect's good standing? If so, shouldn't he be more protective and careful now that Jiang Xichen is finally back by his side? How could he possibly consider taking any action which brings with it a risk of losing his love once more?
Still, Jin Guangyao does his best to calm himself down, to stop the quiver in his voice when he speaks next, so his threat would appear more convincing.
"Don’t force my hand. I won't hesitate to bite my tongue off, you know? That way, neither of us would gain."
Lan Wanyin arches a brow. In the next moment, Jin Guangyao realises that his upper and lower lips are seemingly glued together. No matter how hard he tries, he is unable to pry his mouth open to say another word, let alone have the ability to physically carry out his threat.
In a single instant, his advantage has been completely revoked and he finds himself at the complete mercy of Lan Wanyin.
Sandu is back with Lan Wanyin, so Jin Guangyao knows he certainly no longer stands a chance even with Hensheng; and no matter how hard he tries, he can't even get a single corpse past Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian. It's almost as though those two sect leaders are superhumans, with the way they move so fluidly through the ceaseless waves of undead.
“I’d only say this once. Move the resentment energy away from Jiang Xichen.”
Jin Guangyao glares insolently up at the speaking Lan Wanyin.
There is no way Lan Wanyin would dare to hurt him if Jiang Xichen is still alive. However, it is a different story if the other man either succumbed to pain or has his core broken. So for now, his best bet is coincidentally also the biggest threat to himself—by releasing the hostage.
All at once, the insurmountable pain which had been pressing down on Jiang Xichen’s chest all this while, suddenly eases up enough for the man to heave a gulp of air. Lan Wanyin lets out a bated breath in response, his grip on Sandu faltering slightly, and Jin Guangyao uses that minute shift in the blade's position to wrench himself out of its range.
The sudden motion captures Lan Wanyin’s attention, and just as expected, he snaps his gaze back to Jin Guangyao promptly, but that is the exact moment the wily fox has been waiting for.
With a sweep of billowing yellow sleeves, the previously despondent man leaps up with a wide triumphant smirk and tosses a handful of corpse poisoning powder right into Lan Wanyin's face. It comes into direct contact with the man’s eyes, making the cultivator recoil instantly as pulses of white-hot pain shoot through his nerves.
Lan Wanyin chokes on the air carrying the scent of rot as he stumbles backwards blindly on unsteady feet, still cradling his head and groaning hoarsely as the effect of the powder stiffens the root of his tongue. Through the haze of aching pain, Lan Wanyin is barely able to notice and block the roundhouse kick Jin Guangyao deals to his side, which causes him to tumble heavily onto his side.
Lan Wanyin rolls over, still gasping for air as he claws through the soil for purchase.
Briefly, Lan Wanyin thinks he hears his brother and Wei Wuxian, but his thoughts do not linger there as Jin Guangyao brings the sole of his boot down on the side of his face next. Jin Guangyao grinds his heel mercilessly into the healing cut on Lan Wanyin's cheek, relishing the joy of regaining his voice.
“No need to drag others down with me? You’re wrong. I would love to drag all of you talentless people down to hell with me! Just because you were born into a good family and had the opportunity to practise cultivation from young, doesn’t give you the right to belittle others. I, too, put in the effort. I, too, did my best. So why am I the only one who has to grit my teeth while all of you scum trample over me every single day?”
It is as though years upon years of grievances have built up within the tiny man, and it all surges forward at this very instant.
“Why should I be the only one living in the darkness? Why am I the only one who won’t get to see the sun? Just because my mother was a prostitute? Just because my upbringing is considered less noble than all of you?”
The seal glints ominously in his grasp.
Ebony cloaks the gleaming blade of Hensheng, giving it far more speed and power than what Jin Guangyao could have achieved with his spiritual energy alone as he plunges it down towards Lan Wanyin's nape.
The neck is a vulnerable spot. Just one simple nick at the correct place is sufficient to have a person bleed out in a matter of seconds, especially when Lan Wanyin's qi is so muddled that he can't possibly summon up enough to recover from a lethal wound!
Oh, how the tables have turned.
Resentment energy coils around Hensheng akin to a spring, giving it the additional burst of power needed to close the distance to Lan Wanyin within the blink of an eye, and Jin Guangyao takes it—allowing his body to be dragged forward into motion, only to stumble from the nasty recoil when his sword smashes unceremoniously into a solidified arc of resentment energy curling protectively around the injured Lan Wanyin.
"Did you… really think I'd just… stand by and watch you… hurt Wanyin?"
Jin Guangyao whips his gaze over to the demonic cultivator who has a smug grin on, despite his futile efforts to stand.
"Love truly is powerful," Jin Guangyao comments sardonically, his look of fury morphing into one bordering on a mix of scorn and pity as he lowers his gaze to the feeble sparks of dark energy on the man's outstretched fingertips. "It must have been the force powering you at Lanling after your sister's sacrifice."
Jin Guangyao pauses. "But come to think of it, the same can be said at Jiangling as well. I heard many heroic tales of your chivalrous fight there, along with Lan er-gongzi's timely assistance. Yet many of these stories leave out the near lethal injury the poor Lan er-gongzi received there."
"How do you… know of Wanyin's injury…?"
"I cannot fathom why you of all people would ask me that."
When Jiang Xichen does not respond to his taunt, Jin Guangyao straightens his posture and continues. "The List of Young Masters is so deceiving that it really ought to be abolished. I, too, like many others, once admired the individuals on the list. But it wasn't until I joined the cultivation world that I realised the fifth place is held by an immature brat, the fourth by a shallow flirt, the third by a pompous spoilt vain peacock, the second by an emotionless brick, and the first by a brainless naïve fool."
An unreadable expression flits across Jiang Xichen's countenance.
When Jiang Xichen speaks next, his tone is flat and devoid of any trace of emotion, as though he is giving a mere observation. "You planted spies."
"You were impatient and desperate to reclaim Lotus Pier during the Sunshot Campaign. Anyone who was willing to put on the purple robes and call themselves a Jiang disciple was immediately accepted into the sect. All I did was supply you with the manpower you required for your cause, and the fact remains that you were able to reclaim Lotus Pier with my help while I gained Wen Ruohan's trust enough to assassinate him. No matter how you look at it, it is a win-win situation."
Jiang Xichen stills for a long moment, letting the words simply sink into him before he lowers his head with a resigned sigh.
"Nie Mingjue was right. Your morals are really as loose as an uncultured beast."
Your morals are loose. Just like a prostitute's son.
Because you're a prostitute's son.
Dream on, because no matter how hard you try someone with such a poor upbringing like you will never become like one of us.
She was a good mother? Haha, how can she be, when she is busy spreading her legs night after night for different men? Poor you, having to grow up in such a brutal environment…
Jin Guangyao bristles, seething with unbridled anger when the memory of what others had said to him about his mother resurfaces to the front of his mind. Briefly, he recognises how uncharacteristically worked up he is getting, how distinctly unlike his usual self it is for him to choose violence and confrontation over his usual deceiving platitudes, yet he can't stop himself from lashing out with seething words.
"What do you know? What do you understand about me? About her?!"
Jiang Xichen swallows thickly at the sight of Jin Guangyao's eyes turning bloodshot as the man attempts to command even more miasma. Dark haze gathers around his arm as per the seal's command but it grows obvious that controlling such a huge amount of dark energy is taking its toll on Jin Guangyao.
The man's talents had always been in calculating the most efficient and effective strategy to achieve his goals. He had never built up sufficient resilience to withstand the physical perils of combat, and it shows through the immense strains to his body: the throbbing veins on his temple as well as the sickly pallor of his skin.
"Why is it that everything you lot do is always celebrated, no matter how wrong they are? Yet the things I do are always rejected and scorned by everyone! If the lookout tower plan was proposed by Jin Zixuan, he would have implemented it eagerly, but because it was by me, he rejected it!"
He? Jin Guangshan?
The missing pieces of information click together audibly in Jiang Xichen's head. He had always known Jin Guangyao held animosity towards his father and others who belittled his birth mother, but he had no idea those feelings ran this deep and murky.
Such a dangerous person should not be allowed to even come close to resentment energy, let alone wield it.
"Don't you dare move!" Jin Guangyao roars, his hoarse voice cracking monstrously. There are no longer any remaining slivers of the Chief Cultivator's usual poise and composure in his demeanour, and Jiang Xichen fully comes to understand that when debilitatingly sharp pain lances through his chest.
Jiang Xichen freezes completely, clenching his jaw to curb the beginnings of a strangled whimper as waves of familiar pain crash into his core, making his knees buckle and body slump weakly forward before he even manages to get a syllable out.
From opposite him, Jin Guangyao's smirk widens ominously as he raises the seal with his uninjured arm, using it to tilt Jiang Xichen's chin up.
"I don't know who helped you escape from my secret room, but I do have my suspicions. I promise that I'll find and send them right after you for thwarting my plans." His gaze flickers down to Lan Wanyin, who finally phases back into view when Jiang Xichen's protection dome around the latter dissipates. "You won't need to be alone for too long."
"Sect Leader, watch out!"
It is Su She's voice.
Momentarily distracted, Jin Guangyao snaps his attention to the side, only to realise his fatal mistake when he feels a burst of heat flare across the joint of his outstretched arm, severing the limb at his elbow.
A bright bolt of lighting crackles before the yellow-robed cultivator can even let out a pained cry. The infamous heirloom sweeps upwards, sparking in all of its wonderful glory as it splits the skies above into two in a bout of radiant purple. There are no traces of coiled resentment energy muting its brilliance, and the unadulterated flow of spiritual energy from Lan Wanyin makes the sizzling whip appear even more menacing than ever.
"Zi… Zidian…?!" Jin Guangyao exclaims in audible shock, his brows furrowed in a mix of agony and surprise. “But how? The Yiling Patriarch never passed its ownership–” Jin Guangyao cuts himself off when the realisation dawns on him. He turns his glare from the shocked Lan Wanyin who has a hand pressed to his bleeding eye while he stares down at the ring on his forefinger, to Jiang Xichen who has retrieved the seal from the dismembered arm.
“How romantic,” Jin Guangyao spits venomously, moments before Jiang Xichen tightens his grip on the seal, coolly using the seal in place of the xiao.
The edges of the dark metal dig into the open wound he had sustained from Hensheng earlier, and the fresh blood further draws out the malevolent power of the seal, easily attracting the resentment energy to Jiang Xichen. The demonic cultivator wields it with the same ease, fashioning it into a sharp lance that hurls itself at Jin Guangyao's throat.
"Sect Leade—" Su She manages to cry out as he throws himself in between Jiang Xichen and Jin Guangyao, before the rest of his sentence is drowned out by a gurgle as the weapon pierces through his throat from behind.
"Minshan…!" Jin Guangyao gasps, eyes widening as he reaches out to his most loyal subordinate, but Su She uses the last of his strength to shove a talisman against Jin Guangyao's chest.
It activates with a blinding beam of cyan as flames shoot from the earth under Jin Guangyao’s feet up to the sky.
"It's a transportation talisman! Quick, Lan Zhan, stop him!" Wei Wuxian exclaims, all prepared to leap onto Suibian as Lan Wangji steadies his hand above his qin, but before either of them can react, the sheathed Xianyue on Jiang Xichen's back swoops blade-first towards Jin Guangyao as though it has a mind of its own.
Xianyue pierces the unsuspecting cultivator through the heart, and Jiang Xichen watches, dumbfounded, as the life drains out of Jin Guangyao's eyes mere moments before the cyan pillar of fire engulfs him whole, and both the man and blade vanish right before their very eyes.
Without anyone else willing to control the corpses using the seal, the mob falls over their own feet the very moment Jin Guangyao vanishes, collapsing in undignified heaps on the dirt ground under them.
The remaining cultivators who had been fighting for their lives against them all this while are instantly stumped at the sudden turn of events, then are flooded with a sense of relief when they take a brief moment to glance around at their surroundings.
Song Hengyi—the man who they previously suspected was evil, had saved them from a fate worse than death under Jin Guangyao! Once the realisation kicks in, they break into loud cheers as they rush all at once towards the man. Yet unfortunately, Jiang Xichen does not give them the time of day as he gathers Lan Wanyin into his shaking arms.
"You will be fine, Wanyin. Believe me," he says reflexively, despite not having the spiritual energy to make good on his word.
Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian join them within the next second, both of them passing the wispy remainder of their spiritual energy in an attempt to stop the effects of the corpse poisoning powder from eroding Lan Wanyin's vision further, but to no avail.
The damage is already done.
Yet, Lan Wanyin still chooses to cling to Jiang Xichen, grasping desperately at the latter's lapels as he struggles to rise to his feet.
"We have to find Jin Guangyao before he dies. Otherwise–"
Jiang Xichen interrupts the frantic man's babbling by resting Lan Wanyin's palm on his forearm where the previously gruesome cut had perfectly healed, as though the wound had never existed in the first place.
"Don't worry. It's all over now. Since a part of Song Hengyi's soul is in Xianyue, the ritual recognised it as my doing."
Lan Wanyin lets out a small sigh of relief, his body slumping in relief.
Jiang Xichen tightens his hold around Lan Wanyin’s shoulders, threading his fingers gingerly through the ebony strands as he watches the rise and fall of the latter’s chest with every breath he draws.
“Rest, Wanyin. I'll be here when you wake up."
Notes:
1. Jiang Cheng. Back
Chapter 35: Promises
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
<PRESENT>
Jiang Xichen lets out a large, exaggerated sigh.
You can't blame him—not really, because he has been wholly subjected to Wei Wuxian's ceaseless chatter during every single one of his waking moments for a whole week thus far, and all of the initial cheer he'd felt upon hearing his brother's voice had utterly melted away after the third day.
Then why didn't he simply get up and leave, you ask? Well, that's because the eternally bothersome Lan Wangji had deemed it fit to seal his acupoints under the guise of treatment before tossing him into a guest room furthest away from the Hanshi, where Lan Wanyin is currently recuperating in.
And the worst part of it all is that the only thing he had to go off on regarding Lan Wanyin's current condition is the hushed whispers of the inner disciples, and knowing how averse the Gusu Lan Sect generally is to gossip, Jiang Xichen has failed to glean anything even moderately useful yet.
If it were the teenage him, Jiang Xichen was sure he'd have long since devised a plan to unblock his acupoints and sneak into the Hanshi—no, wait, he would have never allowed Lan Wangji to seal his qi in the first place!
Ugh, how utterly useless this body's high level of cultivation is.
"Have you considered that perhaps if you'd heeded my advice and not pushed yourself on Burial Mounds, none of this would have happened, Ge?"
Jiang Xichen lets out another large, exaggerated sigh.
"I am not listening to this same lecture for the seventh time in a day. Don't you have any sect-related arrangements to make? Jin Guangyao had completely turned the cultivation world upside down. With so many sect leaders currently gone, don't you have to decide what to do with the affected sects?"
Wei Wuxian peers up from the ridiculously large vat of Emperor's Smile he is currently downing. "Eh? But that's a headache for Lan Zhan to solve, not me." He then holds out the liquor to the injured man. "Want a sip?"
Jiang Xichen lets out yet another large, exaggerated sigh. "It is the Hour of Shen,1 you know?"
Wei Wuxian's jaw drops wide open. "Not you too! Did getting transmigrated into the body of a Baixue Temple disciple make you into a no-nonsense rule-abiding stick-in-the-mud? Or… I know, are you secretly trying to curry favour with Teacher Lan? If so, let me tell you, it's useless. I once tried to drink alcohol outside of Cloud Recesses and he still punished me for it!"
"Did you scale the wall before him, then stretched your head and hand to ensure you were drinking just outside of the boundary?" Jiang Xichen deadpans.
Wei Wuxian does not even try to hide his shock. "How did you know?!"
Jiang Xichen snorts.
Despite them not having spoken quite like this for seven—no, rather, twelve years—some things really never do change. In fact, it feels as though everything between them has slid perfectly back into place just like he'd never left in the first place. And this reunion would be absolutely perfect if his sister were to stride through the doors with a huge jar of her trademark soup.
As if on cue, the doors to the guest room swing open, bringing along with it the mouth-watering aroma of lotus root and pork ribs.
The only gripe he has is that the person bringing the soup in is…
"Lan Zhan! You're here!"
"Lan Wangji," Jiang Xichen forces himself to greet courteously through gritted teeth, only to have Lan Wangji incline his body away from him on purpose, very clearly ignoring Jiang Xichen's entire existence.
Jiang Xichen fights back the urge to roll his eyes.
Who did he think was the one who proposed searching Yunping after learning that none of the sect’s investigations bore any results? Granted, he was simply reiterating the location written on the land deed he'd spotted in Jin Guangyao's secret room, but they’d have to be foolish to not consider it first.
Knowing exactly how dedicated Su She was to protecting Jin Guangyao, the location he'd have risked his life to send the man to would definitely be one which would be out of the jurisdiction of the major sects—and that, when combined with the limitations of Su She’s remaining spiritual energy then, leaves the only viable destination of the teleportation talisman as Yunping, which sits nearly equidistant between Yiling and Yunmeng.
Nie Huaisang had been the first to find Jin Guangyao’s remains, which had been left bleeding out in the middle of the entrance hall of a famous Guanyin Temple, and while the cultivation world debates on a date to discuss how to close the chapter of Jin Guangyao's heinous crimes, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji had taken the chance to leave for the Cloud Recesses to purify the seal in the Mingshi.
Progress with the cleansing ritual must have been minimal again, Jiang Xichen muses, considering just how terse Lan Wangji has been whenever he came by with meals.
"Wei Ying.” Lan Wangji sets the tray on the table and ladles out a bowl for his husband. “You should eat."
Wei Wuxian hums under his breath. "Sure, sure, I'll tell you all the different findings in my research as we eat!"
"Talking during a meal is strictly–"
"–prohibited in Cloud Recesses, I know!" Wei Wuxian throws his arms around his husband. "Fine, I'll just tell you all about it after the meal then."
"Mn."
Jiang Xichen's jaw drops at the exchange.
Nevermind, he takes his words back. Wei Wuxian has definitely changed a whole lot since they last interacted.
Who would have thought that the once rowdy and obnoxious youth would one day adhere to the Lan Sect Rules in this manner too?!
"Hm?" Wei Wuxian peers over, meeting Jiang Xichen's gaze. "You're staring so intently, Ge. Do you want a bowl too?"
The murderous glower Lan Wangji sends his way in the very next second is more than sufficient to make Jiang Xichen's blood run cold.
"No thanks." His self-preservation skills aren't this low. "This new body isn't attuned to spice in the slightest."
Lan Wangji raises a sleeve to his lips and coughs lightly into it.
This… Did Lan Wangji just scoff at him?
Jiang Xichen's brow twitches, indignant.
Wei Wuxian follows up by shooting him a look full of pity. "Aw, don't you worry. That was more or less how Cheng-di was when he started out on my training and look where he is now. I'll have you back to sniffing down spice in a jiffy!"
Sniffing down spice?
He finds that terribly hard to believe with how the man had once been a snivelling mess from just a single bite of the Jiang family’s trademark scallion pancake. Though, if his recent travels with Lan Wanyin had been of any indication, the man had completely gotten over it and can handle any amount of spice way better than Song Hengyi can ever hope to achieve.
Now, if Lan Wanyin could just extend that same tolerance to alcohol as well…
Jiang Xichen coughs lightly, trying to disguise the small smile tugging the corners of his lips up when he recalls the shy smile and soft blush on the tipsy Lan cultivator’s face when they were back in Qinghe Nie. That time, he’d misunderstood that Lan Wanyin was speaking about Wei Wuxian, but the next time round, he would make sure there would be no such miscommunication. The next time, he’ll be sure to lean in to trace the pink flush high on Lan Wanyin’s cheekbones—
Woosh!
Jiang Xichen snaps his eyes open, startled out of his reverie when a pair of chopsticks embed themselves into the wooden bedframe mere milimetres from his skull.
“My hand slipped.” Lan Wangji’s words are curt, brusque and unfriendly in just about every single way imaginable; his golden glare colder and much more impenetrable than usual.
Jiang Xichen scoffs. “I thought the righteous Gusu Lan Sect Leader was not supposed to lie?”
Lan Wangji notes Jiang Xichen’s scathing displeasure with a simple nonchalant tilt of his head. “My hand slipped.”
“Repeating the same statement twice does not make it sound any more truthful than the first.”
“My hand slipped.”
Huh? He’s repeating it a third time?
Oh god, pray tell, what exactly does Wei Wuxian see in this obstinate and petty blockhead?!
On a normal day, Jiang Xichen would usually say that he is quite a patient man, and would do almost anything just to stay out of conflict. However, currently, his patience has already been wearing incredibly thin after being forced to stay unmoving for a week, and that, when combined with the unwarranted nastiness Lan Wangji has been unleashing unto him on each and every one of their encounters, has finally taken its toll.
“What’s with your constant animosity? I don’t remember ever treading on your toes, or do you have reasons why you dislike me so?”
“For starters, unlike you, I have never made the people precious to me cry.”
Jiang Xichen recoils, expression twisting into a grimace.
What an underhanded move.
How is he supposed to respond to that? He had most definitely seen Lan Wanyin crying at Yi City, and that doesn't even include all the other occasions when he had intentionally and purposefully said hurtful things to push the latter away.
Or perhaps that was the entire reason?
No. Lan Wangji has displayed an acute dislike for him ever since the very first day of the study exchange in Cloud Recesses all those years ago—long before anyone saw him in the same breathing space as Lan Wanyin. But if the reason for Lan Wangji’s distaste for him does not stem from his brotherly overprotectiveness, then what else could have possibly sparked him off?
"Xiongzhang is being too pedantic. I assure you that Xichen has never intentionally hurt me anymore than you did."
Lan Wangji's golden eyes widen by a fraction, as though utterly taken aback by the idea that he could have unintentionally and unknowingly hurt his younger brother prior. Meanwhile, Jiang Xichen feels a trickle of cold sweat sliding down his back.
Wanyin is far more devious than what he'd ever gave the man credit for. Knowing Lan Wangji’s sore spot and dealing words which leave the stuck-up man crestfallen is certainly not something just anyone is capable of doing—and Jiang Xichen has a feeling that includes Wei Wuxian as well.
Lan Wangji lowers his brooding gaze to the ground, and the door to the guest room swings open on cue, revealing a tall cultivator in the doorway. However, unlike previously, Lan Wanyin is no longer dressed from head to toe in robes completely devoid of any colour. Instead the contrasting soft blue shade of his inner robes now stands out against his pale skin, accentuating the steel blue hue of his right eye and the glassy lavender of his left.
Jiang Xichen sucks in a shallow inhale.
Lan Wanyin averts his face immediately, raising his left hand to cover his scarred eye. Zidian on his forefinger gleams where it catches the rays of the afternoon sun, bringing along with it an ethereal glimmer to the novel shade of his left eye, but it doesn’t do anything to soothe the painful pounding of Jiang Xichen’s heart against his chest.
He knows that Lan Wanyin is the one who will be bearing these scars, that Lan Wanyin is the one who should be in the most pain, yet, Jiang Xichen feels as though someone had shoved a handful of needles into his heart instead.
Two lifetimes, and all he had given Lan Wanyin is one massive irreparable scar in each.
“Oh, that reminds me, Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian exclaims abruptly while rising to his feet with a flourish. The legs of the chair he was seated on scrape against the ground, shattering the tense atmosphere in the room, and Wei Wuxian follows up by tugging on Lan Wangji’s arm. “Isn’t Sizhui supposed to be coming over later today? We've to get down to Caiyi Town to welcome him!"
"There is still time–" Lan Wangji begins but is forcefully dragged out of the room before he can finish his protest, leaving Jiang Xichen and Lan Wanyin alone with the half-finished jar of soup.
Lan Wanyin dawdles at the entrance, seemingly having lost all traces of the confidence he had displayed atop Burial Mounds. He flits his gaze between the ground at his feet and the bed, as though he cannot decide if he should take another step into the room or turn away completely—and Jiang Xichen takes the opportunity to speak.
“This really brings some memories back, doesn’t it?”
Lan Wanyin raises a brow inquisitively.
Jiang Xichen chuckles. “Our current situation is almost exactly the same as the aftermath of our fight with the Xuanwu. You were the one who was more injured with an infection, yet I was the one who fell unconscious for several days after.”
“It could not be helped. You passed all your spiritual energy to me then. There was none left to tend to your own injuries.”
“Well, there would have been no need for that if you didn’t use all the herbs in the pouch solely on me in the first place.”
Lan Wanyin’s expression hardens into the beginnings of a defiant scowl. “You were in obvious pain and discomfort. What else was I supposed to do?"
“Just stay by my side?" Jiang Xichen jests, only to have Lan Wanyin promptly close the distance between them in several large strides. Then, the Lan cultivator pauses by the bed for a long moment, simply staring contemplatively down at Jiang Xichen before silently sitting down at the edge.
Jiang Xichen blinks twice. "Wanyin…?"
"You were the one who asked me to stay."
Hm? What?
"Purifying resentment energy is an extremely tough process. I have seen the cultivators struggling just to clear trace amounts out of their system, and Song Hengyi has so much more than all of them combined."
“Don’t worry, it isn’t too much of a big deal.”
Lan Wanyin knits his brows together. “You do not have to placate me with white lies. I inhaled some of the incense back at Lanling too, and heard the screams when I was enveloped by the miasma at the foot of Burial Mounds. It was far removed from anything I had expected and… I cannot fathom how much worse those who had their cores broken suffered."
I cannot fathom how much worse you’d suffered—Lan Wanyin’s unspoken words hang dark and heavy in the still air between them.
“It was not a big deal,” Jiang Xichen repeats coolly, before adding to his statement when the dark cloud of doubt does not clear from Lan Wanyin’s visage. “Besides, I was too absorbed with trying to beat Jin Guangyao at his own game to pay any attention to the details.”
Lan Wanyin pauses, seemingly unconvinced, only to let out a stifled, amused huff several seconds later. "You have changed, Xichen. You are reminding me of what you were like during the study exchange."
"Like an immature youth?"
"No. More confident, more carefree."
Jiang Xichen chuckles good-naturedly. "Confident and carefree? Aren't you mixing me up with Wei Wuxian?"
"Not at all. It is completely different. Wei-ge displayed his confidence in a way which might alienate himself from others, but yours was intriguing in a way that attracted others to you. At least for me, it was charming and inspirational."
Jiang Xichen's lips which had been parted with surprise now curl skywards into a sly smirk as he pushes himself up onto his elbows. "Charming, huh?"
"Yes, very charming," Lan Wanyin repeats evenly, with absolutely no signs of his usual red-faced abashedness when it comes to matters of the heart.
"So… you mean to say that you were drawn to my charm then?" Jiang Xichen tries again, placing careful emphasis on that one word.
"No. I was drawn to the person who had a clear goal of what he wanted. All his life, he wanted to protect the people he loved, and he achieved just that.”
Jiang Xichen presses a shaking hand to Lan Wanyin’s cheek and brushes the pad of his thumb under the discoloured left eye. "How can you possibly say that after this?"
“Don’t worry, it isn’t too much of a big deal," Lan Wanyin quotes. However, instead of using the same reassuring tone as Jiang Xichen had, Lan Wanyin’s is more factual, as though he truly does not consider it to be an inconvenience. "There was proper first-aid administered so my vision itself is not affected too much. But if the colour bothers you, I can always hide it."
"You don't have to hide it. Or rather, I don't want you to hide it. Neither this eye nor the scar across your chest bother me the way you think it does—not now and not ever in the future."
Lan Wanyin lapses into a long contemplative silence.
Jiang Xichen lets out a soft chuckle. "It's pretty, you know. Depending on the lighting, it appears purple in some angles."
"Purple…" Lan Wanyin echoes, and just as Jiang Xichen expected, the Lan cultivator's countenance brightens slightly. “About Zidian, how was I able to use it? When did you appoint me as the master?”
“Right when we were about to enter Burial Mounds. In fact, I think I should have done it much earlier. I had Zidian with me for five years, but you cared for it for seven.”
Lan Wanyin lowers his gaze slowly to his lap. “It was one of the few things I had left of you.”
“Along with the pressed jasmine bookmark?"
Lan Wanyin's posture stiffens at the mention, eliciting a gentle laugh from Jiang Xichen.
"I should have known from the very first time I saw it on your desk. You have kept everything after all." The jasmine flower he slid into Lan Wanyin's hair when they first met, the white jade lotus hairpin, the damaged forehead ribbon, and the makeshift lotus pond outside the Hanshi. "On the other hand, I broke your gift."
In fact, he had broken it right before Lan Wanyin, shattered it into tiny pieces—and thinking back now, the amount of hurt he must have inflicted on Lan Wanyin from that action alone is…
"I always thought you lost the token," Lan Wanyin admits after a moment of silence. "I never knew you kept it with you the whole time. Everyone thought that the wisteria pouch contained the Stygian Tiger Seal, but instead, it was my gift. So, all those times you held the pouch during the Sunshot Campaign, those were…"
Lan Wanyin trails off with a furrow of his brows. "If I had known, I would have rushed to finish and given you the xiao back then. It might not have been much, but it might have been another anchor for you. Instead, I spent far too long fretting about perfecting it, trying to make an item that you wouldn't mistake for another again, and I just missed the chance completely. It is rather laughable, isn't it?"
Jiang Xichen stiffens at the memory of spotting several carved jade xiao he had seen in Lan Wanyin’s room: some unfinished and some stored away, to the single pristine one left atop a cabinet with the two characters ‘Liebing’ etched into it.
"It's not." Jiang Xichen's voice comes out louder and harsher than what he'd intended, but instead of shying away, he clears his throat and tries once again. "It's not. Whether you gave it back then or now, whether I accepted the gift or not, I would have still appreciated the sentiment nevertheless. Why would I not when it is from someone I love this dearly?"
"Love," Lan Wanyin echoes, with a hint of a soft smile.
He tilts his body forward, leaning towards Jiang Xichen.
Their foreheads press against each other and the air in the room shifts instantly. It grows heavy, charged, tense, as their breaths intermingle. Everything about this exact moment is unplanned, unexpected, but it is precisely that which makes it all the more right, and Jiang Xichen finds himself leaning in before long, driven by the raw urge to close the distance between their lips.
"Gege–!"
A yellow-clad child bursts into the room at breakneck speed, only to freeze on his feet when he witnesses the two grown men pressed together in such a compromising position. The taller boy following behind Jin Ling promptly slaps his hands over the Jin sect heir’s eyes, but the harm has already been done, and they cannot do much else other than gape in shock as Jin Ling easily breaks free and lets out a blood-curdling shriek that instantly sends both Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji rushing into the guest room.
“What happened?!” Wei Wuxian exclaims, only for Lan Wangji to cover his eyes as well. “Lan Zhan?”
“Some things, if seen, would sully one’s eyes.”
Lan Wanyin lets out an amused snort as though he’d heard his elder brother bring up this same point enough times to find the humour in Lan Wangji’s harsh statement. However, Jiang Xichen isn’t the same. He doesn’t even think he has ever met someone as rudely blunt as Lan Wangji prior, and his annoyance easily shows in the way he glares at Lan Wangji with obvious disdain.
“How could you jump to conclusions and regard others with such strong words before even finding out the whole truth? I thought Gusu Lan prided itself on being impartial and non-judgmental.”
Lan Wangji does not so much as deign Jiang Xichen with a proper look in the eye. “I did not jump to any conclusions. No matter what the circumstances were, your earlier actions are an obvious breach of the Gusu Lan Sect Rules. Cloud Recesses is a place of purity, not debauchery.”
“Like you are one to talk,” Jin Ling huffs, turning his nose skywards while crossing his arms defiantly across his chest. “I know what exactly you and jiujiu have been up to on your friendship nights out! Right, Sizhui?”
The boy named Sizhui chokes, his face turning a blinding shade of bright scarlet.
Stepping out of Lan Wangji’s hold, Wei Wuxian then waggles his brows mischievously. “Don’t worry, Ge, I’m on your side. If fornicating at Cloud Recesses is not permitted, you can always come over to Lotus Pier instead. If anything, I assure you that there is nothing else in the waters of the lakes except lotuses and debauchery!”
Sizhui’s face turns even redder. “Baba!”
Baba? Not sect leader but… father?
“Wen Yuan?” Jiang Xichen says next, his voice coming out akin to a hoarse whisper of disbelief as he takes in the familiar way in which the boy inclines his head and shuffles his feet in discomfort while curiosity lights up in his eyes.
"I am Jiang Sizhui now. But how do you know my old name? Could you be… Are you the 'old acquaintance' that baba wants me to meet?"
"As expected of my intelligent Sizhui'er. You hit the nail right on the head!" Wei Wuxian stoops down beside the boy and gestures to a rack in the far corner of the room, which Jiang Xichen has not noticed until now. "Look, there are two swords there. Do you recognise the white one?"
Shuoyue.
Jiang Xichen's heart skips a beat.
It’s Shuoyue, the sword his father crafted for him, the sword that once held all the hopes and dreams, and the sword he ended up tossing to a corner of the Demon Slaughtering Cave because it became too painful to even look at it.
“It is the useless dog-beating stick which the haggard good-for-nothing kept around!” Sizhui gasps in wonderment when the memory of his childhood resurfaces in his mind. However, instead of gaining any amount of delight from this unexpected reunion, Jiang Xichen feels his heart shrivelling up from Sizhui’s words instead.
“A… useless… dog-beating stick…… haggard… good-for-nothing…?”
“Yes! That was how Qing-jiejie referred to it!”
Jiang Xichen’s brow twitches. He can even clearly visualise the way Wen Qing would have said it—with her arms crossed and a smug smirk on her face.
“Okay. Now look at that guy beside Cheng-di. How would you describe him?”
Sizhui spends a moment deep in thought. “He does not appear to be in the best of shape.”
Jin Ling looks Jiang Xichen dead in the eye. “Ugly.”
Lan Wangji’s golden gaze twinkles mockingly. “Haggard.”
Lan Wanyin leans in further, with a hint of mirth curling his lips up. “Mn. Pretty much the same brand of haggard, I presume?”
Jiang Xichen groans, burying his face into his hands. “Oh god, not you too!”
· · ─────── ·✬· ─────── · ·
"Are you still sulking?" Lan Wanyin asks while they trek up the back mountains. The pink and purple hues of dusk stretch across the sky above them as the clouds cruise by, appearing almost close enough to touch. "The sunset seen from the peak here is exquisite. I have even brought some scallion pancakes along for the occasion."
Jiang Xichen shudders involuntarily at the memory of how Song Hengyi's body reacted to spice. "Do I look like I'm sulking?"
"Yes," Lan Wanyin deadpans. "Very much so."
Jiang Xichen makes a face.
"Well, I'm just deep in thought. I don't know what I did to make your elder brother hate me this much. Thinking back, we were on rather civil terms during all the times we met at sect meetings, then the study exchange came along and his attitude completely changed all of a sudden."
An unreadable expression crosses Lan Wanyin’s visage, which Jiang Xichen misunderstands and quickly adds. "Not that I am holding him to any blame, of course. I am merely curious why he'd take me in and provide me with herbs as though I am an honoured guest, then also seal my acupoints and constrain my movements as though I am a lowly prisoner. It is rather bewildering, to say the least."
Lan Wanyin averts his face and coughs lightly into his palm.
"That… might be due to me. Xiongzhang probably wanted to help me hide the fact that I was not in Cloud Recesses."
Jiang Xichen inclines his head.
Not in Cloud Recesses? He'd thought that Lan Wanyin had been recuperating in the Hanshi, but if the opposite is true, then it had to be to do something which Lan Wanyin thought would be too dangerous for him to come along—namely, a loose end to the whole debacle surrounding Jin Guangyao’s case.
“You found Nie Mingjue’s head.”
Jiang Xichen phrased it as a statement instead of an open-ended question, but Lan Wanyin nods his head in affirmation anyway. “I had to. The curse mark on your legs was not fading no matter what Wei-ge tried. The only feasible method left which I could think of is to reunite Chifeng-zun’s body.”
“Where did you find it?”
“Inside Jin-furen’s casket. He attempted to bury Chifeng-zun’s sealed head with his wife.”
“And he was appeased when you rearranged him back into one piece?”
Lan Wanyin falls silent then, brows knitted in reluctance to divulge the information. He relents eventually with a deep sigh. “No. Chifeng-zun went berserk instead. In the end, we had to use rather… unconventional methods to subdue him.”
The realisation dawns on Jiang Xichen at once. “The Nie Sabre Hall.” He shrugs. “Well, I guess Nie Huaisang has his work cut out for him from now on.”
“Not quite. The balance between the resentful Chifeng-zun and the remaining sword spirits is perfect. At the very least, the Nie Sect would not need to search for any new corpses in the next fifty years.”
Jiang Xichen hums under his breath in affirmation before turning his attention to the sprawling twilight sky before their eyes.
"Wanyin, what do you plan on doing from now on? Going wherever the chaos… As noble as that was, there is no need for you to do that anymore. Your brother would also be much happier if you chose to stay at Cloud Recesses."
The wind picks up then, gently tousling through Lan Wanyin's dark locks as the man's knuckles turn white from how tightly he is keeping his fist clenched.
"What about you then? Will you be going back to Lotus Pier?"
Jiang Xichen laughs. "Not a chance. As far as the cultivation world is aware, the Yiling Patriarch Jiang Xichen is dead and will never be coming back. I am Song Hengyi now, a Baixue Temple disciple, and as such, there is no place at Lotus Pier for me."
"That is not true! If everyone at Burial Mounds vouches for you, we can definitely–" Lan Wanyin cuts himself off abruptly. He can't bring himself to finish his statement because he has realised the problem with it.
Jiang Xichen is the Yiling Patriarch, the one who infamously used resentment energy for nefarious reasons and slaughtered thousands. Trying to convince those who were not on Burial Mounds that the Chief Cultivator was evil and the Yiling Patriarch put a stop to it would be near impossible.
What those people would choose to believe would be the complete opposite: that the Yiling Patriarch controlled the Chief Cultivator and staged everything to return with a clean reputation.
"Besides, it's rather good like this, don't you think?" Jiang Xichen gives a long, contented stretch before falling backwards onto a soft patch of grass. "Baixue Temple is gone, so I have no obligations to any sect left. This is exactly the life I've always dreamt of!"
To live life freely, travelling anywhere and everywhere he wants. He can try to find the village filled with wisteria flowers which he had once heard from Ye Yunxiao, or visit Huatan town which Song Hengyi grew up in.
Anything is possible; everything is possible.
"To be a commoner living in a remote area, away from war, from politics, and from responsibilities?”
Jiang Xichen turns to Lan Wanyin, his eyes wide with shock before he lets out a soft chuckle. “You remember.”
“I told you that I will remember every single thing you say from now on, didn’t I?"
“You did,” Jiang Xichen concedes. “And I remember Wanyin’s dream too—to cultivate to immortality, right?”
“Immortality means absolutely nothing to me without you around.” Lan Wanyin settles down on the grass beside Jiang Xichen and gently takes the latter’s hand in his. "I have waited for you for over seven years. Surely, you cannot possibly be asking me to wait for longer?"
The wind on the peak of the back mountains picks up then, eddied, swirling, and ambient; tousling through the loose strands of Lan Wanyin’s hair as it lifts the tattered tails of his forehead ribbon up into the air.
Jiang Xichen reaches out to grab ahold of it, feeling the silken material slide in between his fingers before it comes to a pause when Lan Wanyin raises his gaze. They are close, their faces seemingly even closer than they had been in the guest room earlier, and the rekindling of the sensations prior takes them completely by surprise.
There is nothing to bother them now. No curious Jin Ling to come barging in, no overprotective Lan Wangji looming threateningly in the distance—and they finally kiss: a simple and chaste touching of lips, yet that brief action holds the unspoken volumes of their passionate desires, the bitterness of their numerous missed opportunities, and the sweetness of the depth of their love for each other.
Their bodies press heatedly together, starting with how their intertwined fingers curl around each other’s, down to the way Jiang Xichen entangles his other hand into the loose strands at Lan Wanyin’s nape.
Little flares of searing heat linger from their yearning caresses against slivers of bare skin, accumulating and unfurling into a mass of emotions which are raw, fervent, desperate, and Jiang Xichen pulls back before the warmth of contentment blossoming in his chest fully overwhelms him.
They shouldn’t rush this, they don’t need to rush this.
After all, they have a whole eternity ahead of them from now on.
“Xichen?” Lan Wanyin calls, his voice breathless and face flushed with the same shade of red as his kiss-swollen lips.
Jiang Xichen answers with a light chuckle and gently leans their foreheads together.
"I’ve made up my mind. Let’s go together, Wanyin."
“Where to?”
“Anywhere is fine, as long as it is with you. As long as we are together.”
.
.
.
.
.
.
“I still can’t believe this! Both of you are leaving the nest!" Wei Wuxian wails exaggeratedly, dabbing at the non-existent tears at the corners of his eyes with the hem of his sleeve. "You must promise to write home often and come back regularly to visit us with gifts for your favourite nephews!"
Opposite him, Jiang Xichen who has just finished securing Shuoyue and Xianyue to his back, looks up with a sigh as he tucks Liebing into his waistband. "I only have two nephews. Besides, the name of Cloud Recesses isn't for you to toss around callously like this."
"Oho? You're speaking up for Gusu? Cheng-di, you've found yourself a great catch. Just look at him! He hasn't even married in, but his loyalty already lies with Gusu Lan!"
Jiang Xichen's brow twitches. "Wei Wuxian, stand right there and clarify your statement. Who's marrying who?"
"You to Cheng-di, of course. Or have I misunderstood the dynamics? Is it the other way round?"
"We currently have no plans to get married, Wei-ge," Lan Wanyin replies with a slight courteous bow of his head. "I do not think that it is necessary for us to put a name to this relationship at this point, and neither do I want Xichen to ever think he has to be with me because of an obligation either."
"If you love something, set it free. If it comes back it's yours. If not, it was never meant to be. How very poetic indeed." Wei Wuxian nods along proudly, before suddenly spinning around on his heel and cupping his hands around his mouth. "Lan Zhan, did you hear that? They said they will engage in pre-marital sex!"
An odd rustling comes from the distance.
It lulls, then returns alongside the sound of something violently cracking. In the very next moment, the edge of the treeline shifts, revealing a large gap as Lan Wangji uproots an entire tree and hurls it straight at Jiang Xichen, who casually steps out of the way without missing a beat.
It’s not too difficult, really, not when he has been expecting something like this to happen. In fact, Jiang Xichen would even go as far as to say that Lan Wangji with his overprotective older brother character setting has gotten pretty easy to read.
Jiang Xichen casually skips out of the way, making sure to shoot a gloating expression in the direction of the forest before grabbing Lan Wanyin by the elbow and giving it a sharp tug.
"Stop them, Lan Zhan! They're eloping!" Wei Wuxian hollers at a volume which can wake the dead, albeit with mirth clinging to every single syllable of his sentence.
"Xiongzhang would be furious," Lan Wanyin adds as well, while they break off into a run, darting down the uneven stone steps leading to the sect's main entrance.
Jiang Xichen casts a brief glance over his shoulder with a nonchalant tilt of his head when another tree comes speeding past beside them. "Would be? What on earth do you mean that guy isn't already furious?"
Lan Wanyin laughs at that, the sound as refreshing as the first drop of morning dew in spring, when a loud bang comes from behind them, erupting across the skies in a series of sparks which form the bright blue motif of the Gusu Lan Sect.
"Shufu would definitely chew Wei-ge out for this later."
"His just desserts!" Jiang Xichen shoots back viciously. However, the wide grin stretching across his lips betrays the bite in his words as Jiang Xichen channels a small amount of spiritual energy to the tassel dangling from the end of Liebing.
The Bell of Clarity rings out in reply with a single melodious chime as they soar up into the air on Sandu.
Notes:
1. Hour of shen/shēn shí (申时): three in the afternoon. Back
***
Thank you to everyone who stuck through with my unstructured posting schedule, to all who decided to pick up and read this after it has been completed too, and most importantly, to those who'd helped and encourage me—be it through comments, DMs and/or fanart.
This has been the longest fic I have written to date, at 35 chapters and over 250K words. It took me three months to plan and almost two full years to write. Often, I felt as though the story would be ending soon, but once I started writing, new ideas and unpredicted hurdles threw the ending further out of reach. Even now, it still feels like a dream that this story of Jiang Xichen and Lan Wanyin is completed. Wishing them a happy and peaceful future 💜💙
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