Chapter Text
When the group of cultivators approached the mouth of the cave where Wei Wuxian resided, he greeted them out front of it, projecting a not-entirely-false air of unconcerned carelessness about him. He had accepted his role as the villain in their story and knew he would eventually die by their will, so he had no desire to put up a fight against what he had already understood to be fated. As the angry masses surrounded him, swords drawn, he slowly reached into his sleeve and pulled out the Yin Tiger Tally, feeling quite peacefully numb. He stood tall in irreverent arrogance in the face of the cultivation world's strongest players all gathered to kill him. It was fitting, he thought. It had always been him against the world in one way or another.
"Yiling Patriarch!" shouted someone at the front. Wei Wuxian let his gaze slide lazily over to meet sect leader Yao's expression of utter disdain and vindictiveness. He was so very tired of this man’s face. "Hand over the Yin Tiger Tally! Your little power trip ends today!"
Wei Wuxian hummed lightly, feigning contemplation, putting on a show. A final act before curtain call. "Hmm...no, I think I'd rather not!"
"Insolent!"
"Ahhh, Lan-laotou!" Wei Wuxian turned to see who had called out, and replied with an impish grin, though it had a hidden sharp edge not previously present in his days at the Cloud Recesses. A few cultivators shivered in instinctive wariness, and Wei Wuxian would be lying if he said it didn't make him feel a bit smug. He could kill them all without breaking a sweat and they knew it. "It seems you were right all those years ago, honorable Lan-laoshi, when you said the cultivation world would not allow my continued existence."
Lan Qiren's face scrunched up, almost in pain. It reminded Wei Wuxian of the face he saw right before being kicked out of the classroom for what ended up being nearly three weeks to copy rules. The old man looked about to shout his own reply, but he was interrupted by another voice.
"Wei Wuxian!" Jiang Cheng shouted, and Wei Wuxian's heart clenched at the reminder that his own brother was here leading this siege. However, the fact that his own brother believed he was beyond redemption made this choice all the more easy. "Don't keep doing this! A-jie is dead, haven't you done enough!?"
At the mention of Jiang Yanli, a thousand tiny needles pricked his long-shattered heart. His mind sobered somewhat and he let a soft, sad smile fall onto his lips, his gaze drifting to his brother's. The brother he failed over and over again. For a moment, the Yiling Patriarch's gaze gentled. Where before there was anger, hurt, desperation, and indignation, it had now all condensed into a gentle and despondent sadness. Seeing this, the Yunmeng Jiang Sect Leader felt as though a bucket of ice water had been splashed over his head as the image of Wei Wuxian from before--before any of the mess with the Wens or the war had happened-- overlapped with the image of the man who caused the near total annihilation of their clan.
"Yes, Jiang Cheng," Wei Wuxian answered serenely, "I have."
As he spoke, he brought the Yin Ti ger Tally up, holding it above his head. Several cultivators took several frantic steps back at the sight of it, having witnessed first-hand the bloodshed and tragedy it had the potential to cause. Wei Wuxian chuckled in dark amusement at the sight. This was all he could ever be.
"Goodbye, Jiang Cheng."
Jiang Cheng's face filled with confusion at his seemingly out-of-the-blue farewell, and then with horror when he saw the writhing, swirling masses of resentful energy flow out of the now crumbling seal and turn not on the assembled gentry, but on their master.
"Wei Wuxian!" Jiang Cheng began to rush forward, his face draining of all color to the point he could be mistaken for a walking corpse. Although any effort he may have made to try and stop it would have been in vain as the seal continued releasing pulsing waves of resentful energy that pushed him back. Wei Wuxian met his brother's gaze one last time and mouthed a quiet 'sorry' before a sudden ripple of agonizing pain knocked him to his hands and knees, ripping a scream from his lungs. His skin began to sizzle and his vision blacked out as he felt his eyes begin to bulge out of their sockets from the heat. Why was it so hot? Using resentful energy had only ever made him feel an all-consuming coldness. He collapsed flat on his face, no longer screaming because he could no longer breathe. His ears gave a deafening, excruciating pop ! and then his hearing was gone too. It felt like all the pain he had ever felt in his life raining down on him at once. He couldn't help but feel it just. He hoped this was what it felt like for Wen Chao.
'Shijie,' he thought to himself. 'I'm sorry.' He felt something sharp claw at his torso, tearing him open and letting his guts slide free. It seemed the fierce corpses had joined in on the fun. 'Wen Qing, Wen Ning, I'm sorry. Granny, Uncle Four, A-Yuan, I'm sorry.’ He coughed weakly, spilling blood and foam from between his gritted teeth, which had begun to splinter and crack from the pressure of his jaw. 'Jin Zixuan, Uncle Jiang, Madam Yu, Shidis, I'm sorry.' His nails dragged against the stone floor of the cave mouth as his instincts forced him to keep fighting against the overwhelming mass of resentment. He didn’t want to fight anymore, he wanted to die. ‘I was never enough to save any of you, I don't deserve any of your forgiveness, but let this show my repentance. I will suffer as I have caused others to suffer, and as I leave the world, it will become a better place.’
Finally, after what was probably less than half an incense stick of time but could have easily been hours, his thoughts ceased. Wei Wuxian was dead.
Three days later, Wei Wuxian woke up. No one expected to simply wake up after dying, especially when one’s death was such a gruesome event. Even if he should wake up, he would have expected it to have more likely been as a resentful spirit or from within the depths of Hell. Instead, he was within the demon-slaughtering cave, the same place he had woken up every morning for the last few years. The only difference was this time he seemed to have woken as a limbless ball of ghost fire, a simple lingering spirit trapped in the mortal realm by his unresolved earthly ties. Wei Wuxian was not quite sure what these ties were, and would in fact like to find out so he could go about severing them. His continued state of being conscious was inspiring quite an acerbic feeling within him. The mortal world lost all remaining appeal to him the second he watched the light leave his shijie's eyes, and the whole point of him destroying the yin tiger tally had been his realization that there was nothing left here for him.
So, he started thinking. His first theory, that he was tied there until properly laid to rest, was quickly thrown out when he found the scorch marks and rather grim pile of ashes in the demon-slaughtering cave, interspersed with tiny flecks of yin tiger tally remains. So he had burned to death. He had had a hard time in his last moments deciding whether the soul-rending pain he had felt was him being torn to shreds by resentful energy or being burned to death by the small explosion- though he supposes it could have been both. Either way, while it could not necessarily be considered a proper burial, he had essentially been cremated. Technically.
Once that had been ruled out, he quickly left behind the very macabre scene of his death. It was very hard to wrap his mind around the fact that the pile of ashes on the cold floor was him .
Moving on, he inspected the remains of the burial mounds village. Maybe he just couldn't move on until he knew for sure everyone he meant to protect was dead- until he confirmed just how utterly he failed. Some good old-fashioned closure, however bitterly devastating this brand of closure might be. However, all he accomplished testing this theory was an incredible wave of sadness crashing down on his lungs. He didn't even have lungs. Regardless, it felt like he couldn't breathe in the face of his failure. The burial mounds were completely devoid of life, and it was weird to think that this place where he spent the most hellish three months of his life was somewhere he had come to expect smiles, laughter, and camaraderie. Smiles and laughter that he would never see nor hear again.
He would consider maybe he was tied here for revenge after all, regardless of not being a resentful spirit, but he knew he truly blamed no one but himself. Well, maybe he blamed that bastard Jin Zixun a bit and things certainly would have gone better without Jin Guangshan around, but both Jin Zixuan and his Shijie died as a direct result of him not being able to control the power he spent the last few years promising everyone he could control. Maybe he should have just gone to fucking Gusu. He'd probably be a prisoner locked away in a little room copying Lan tenets for eternity, but at least his shijie would be alive.
He wondered how Lan Zhan was doing. He didn't remember seeing him among the faces of the sieging cultivators, and it sprouted the tiniest seed of hope within him. That maybe there was someone out there from his past life who didn't quite hate him enough to want him dead. Of course, Nie Huaisang hadn't been there either. He had made it a point to try and pick out familiar faces in the crowd to get one last glimpse before his suicide-mission of destroying the seal. Although Huaisang's absence really didn't necessarily mean anything considering he wouldn't even pick up his saber to fight the troops led by the man who killed his father.
Suddenly, from within the forest, he heard a cry. Its tone and its pitch were achingly familiar and it sends a jolt through him. Like getting struck by lightning. Its A-Yuan. Before he had even finished processing the fact that A-Yuan was somehow still alive, he was zipping towards the weak wailing. It wasn't until he arrived at the base of a tree and found a tiny, shivering figure hunched within a hole in the trunk where he had gently and tearfully tucked him as the troops were marching up their mountain, that he remembered he was currently just a ball of light and there was nothing he could do. He frantically zipped around the boy's head, thinking maybe he could get his attention and lead him into town; surely someone in Yiling would find him and help him, but A-yuan was too dazed to even notice the green ball of light in front of him. Or, he supposed, he just did not have enough spiritual energy to visibly manifest. A face suddenly popped into his mind, alongside two straw butterflies and the cheerful, laughing call of the name 'rich-gege.'
"Lan Zhan," he whispered, desperately hopeful. He thoughtlessly began tearing his way towards Gusu, thinking maybe there just might be one person left who still cared about the fate of A-yuan enough to help him.
His flight to Gusu was a blur, and by the time he had made it there it was a shichen past curfew. He was terrified of what having to wait until morning might mean for the dangerously feverish boy still curled up in the trunk of a tree, when he heard a drifting melody floating up from a residential chamber on the edges of the Cloud Recesses.
Inquiry. He had heard Lan Zhan play it enough times on the deserted, bloody battlefields of the Sunshot Campaign, helping the fallen soldiers move on, to immediately recognize the tune.
He followed the sound through the grounds of Cloud Recesses, thanking whatever little Lan disciple had decided to do a little rule breaking. Hopefully it wasn't someone with a cultivation level that was too high, otherwise he wouldn't be able to lie and would probably find himself on the inside of a spirit-trapping pouch as soon as he gives his name. When he came upon the building the song was flowing from, he saw that it was not the disciples quarters, but a private residence, and he thinks ‘ Don't be Lan Qiren, don't be Lan Qiren, you can be anyone but Lan Qiren .’ When he finally slipped in through an open window, his non-existent breath caught in his non-existent throat. It was Lan Zhan.
He was sitting at the table in the front room of his quarters, hunched over his guqin. Wei Wuxian didn’t think he’d ever seen Lan Zhan sit with such awful posture before, or any Lan in that case. If he hadn’t been in such a rush, he might have noticed the frown between Lan Zhan’s brows, betraying his pain, and the bandages peeking out from under the collar of his robes.
He immediately floated over to the Guqin and waited for the opening melody of Inquiry to finish so he could speak. Then, "Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan!" he shouted, and watched in fascination as the strings of the guqin seem to pluck themselves in time with his words. Graceful white hands like carved jade instantly froze and began to tremble where they hovered over the strings.
"Wei Ying?" Lan Zhan whispered. He seemed a bit dazed, his eyes scanning the room like a child separated from their mother on the street. His face was contorted in an expression he wasn’t quite sure he had ever seen on the Second Jade’s face. Disbelief? Hope? Despair? Frustration? Wei Wuxian couldn't tell and in his current mind couldn't care.
"Yes, Lan Zhan, it's me!" Wei Wuxian replied, and the strings spoke for him once again.
"Wei Ying," Lan Zhan whispered again, the very complicated look still on his face, and frankly, only growing more complicated for each moment that passed. He was apparently unsure what to say other than that because seconds ticked by without the Second Jade saying anything more, just staring blankly and yet so desperately, and Wei Wuxian was growing impatient. Lan Zhan and his aversion to speaking was usually kind of cute, but right now it was really very inconvenient. Being a ghost was really very inconvenient. He was so used to easily capturing people's attention, be that positive or negative, and now when he really really needed someone's attention, he was intangible! He really needed Lan Zhan to pay attention to him, or, to his guqin, and usually all he’d have to do is call out a few increasingly ridiculous nicknames and without that option he was not sure what to do.
He tried calling on resentful energy to perhaps cause the candles in the room to flare or something but he was in the Cloud Recesses, without an ounce of resentful energy within at least five lī. What he did realize, though, was that he was currently a ball of spiritual energy, and therefore, it should make sense that he could now use spiritual energy right? He tried desperately to send out a wave of qi and instantly felt that he should probably most definitely not be doing that, if the way he felt a bit like a piece of ceramic full of sudden hairline fractures was any indication. But, Lan Zhan was still staring pale-faced at his guqin and minutely opening and closing his mouth like the fish he used to catch at Lotus Pier, so he doubled his efforts. Finally, as he felt one of those hairline fractures become a proper and rather painful crack, He saw Lan Zhan's eyes widen as he sensed the energy fluctuation.
“Wei Ying, what are you doing?” he asked quickly, “you do not have a core. If you exhaust your spiritual energy your soul will shatter.” Finally! Never let it be said he had lost the ability to pull words from this stone-faced jade!
"I need help, Lan Zhan!" He watched Lan Zhan watch the strings and swallow deeply at what was played.
“What does Wei Ying need?”
"It's A-Yuan! A-Yuan is still alive, Lan Zhan, please please save him!"
Wei Wuxian didn't know how he was expecting Lan Zhan to react, but he was certainly a bit shocked when he instantly sprung up from his seat and grabbed Bichen from beside him. He had an expression on his face that looked rather close to heartbreak, and it was reassuring to think Lan Zhan harbored enough fondness for A-Yuan to be so upset. The honorable Hanguang-Jun was truly reliable!
Wei Wuxian quickly went to follow Lan Zhan as he took his sword to the sky, needing to make sure A-Yuan was found. He was worried at first he wouldn't be able to keep up with Lan Zhan, as he was one of the top cultivators of their generation and he could reach quite high speeds on his sword. However, tonight the Second Jade was very obviously a bit wobbly in the air, going at a speed that Wei Wuxian could probably have far outpaced on Suibian even at age twelve. Something was glaringly wrong, and he could do nothing about it.
Not that he’s sure he would do anything about it, being completely honest. He couldn't tell Lan Zhan to go home or take a break, he’s A-Yuan's only chance right now. As much as he hated being a burden on other people (well, people he didn't dislike anyways), he hated the idea of losing A-Yuan even more. Though, he had already lost him, hadn't he? He had lost the ability to be there for him, to dry his tears, make him laugh, tell him stories, teach him the art of causing mischief. He would have a new family raising him, and it would probably only be a few years before he completely forgot his Xian-gege. Though, maybe that was for the best.
Despite a few very-alarming stumbles, Lan Zhan made it safely to the Burial Mounds. Now, Wei Wuxian had to figure out a way to make sure A-Yuan was found. Well, he already had one tried-and-true method, knowing he could cause fluctuations in spiritual energy by essentially self-destructing a bit. In theory, those fluctuations should be more noticeable with the contrasting air of resentful energy hanging around them. So, he led Lan Zhan through the burial mounds by flaring his spiritual energy every once in a while. He did his best to ignore the broken whisper of “Wei Ying,” every time he did so. He was honestly a bit confused at the level of concern Lan Zhan was showing for him. He really, truly thought this man despised him a bit! The process was tiresome and certainly extremely painful, but after his death, pain seems to have had a lesser impact on him in general. He wasn’t sure if it was just a cool perk of being dead or if his method of dying being so unbelievably excruciating had boosted his pain tolerance, but either way,
it helped. Although, this ordeal would undoubtedly have been much easier if he had enough spiritual energy when he died to at least be able to visibly manifest. Being an invisible ball of flame was certainly proving more and more inconvenient.
Finally, they reached the tree trunk and Wei Wuxian could have cried in relief- if that was a physical capability he had still possessed. He felt a bit like a sieve, or maybe a physical manifestation of the hundred-holes curse, but all his pain and exhaustion alchemized into pure relief as he watched Lan Zhan bend down and carefully pick A-Yuan up, tucking him against his shoulder. Then, he turned around and immediately got back on his sword, exposing his now blood-soaked back to him.
The sight felt like a punch to the gut. What happened??? The route he had led Lan Zhan through was one cleared of resentful spirits, so that hadn’t happened here! If he was so injured, why had he not been in the infirmary? Was he going to be able to fly back? Had Wei Wuxian led him here just for him and A-Yuan to end up falling off a sword from a few lī in the air?? As tired as he was, he couldn’t just leave them to go back on their own. He could probably do absolutely nothing to help but he still had to see with his own eyes A-Yuan making it safely back. Lan Zhan too. Stupid, stupid Lan Zhan who flew all the way to the Burial Mounds with apparent extensive injuries with no hesitation for little A-Yuan. Stupid Lan Zhan who hadn’t been at the raid on the Burial Mounds. Had he only not been there because his injuries made him incapable? If he had been able-bodied, would he too have wanted to help put an end to the evil Yiling Patriarch? For some reason that seemed… not true. A flash of a memory; lying down in his cave with a blurry white figure standing in front of him, of him shouting “get out!” but not at the blurry white figure.
They made it about halfway to Gusu before Lan Zhan showed obvious signs of being about to fucking fall over dead. After the fifth time watching him free fall for a few seconds before righting himself, he wanted to yell at him for not taking care of himself and for playing the hero, except then he would sound like Jiang Cheng, and he didn’t want to let Jiang Cheng win an argument even if it was in the confines of his own head. Plus, he couldn’t speak. So, he pressed up against Lan Zhan’s dantian and every time he started to waver he pushed a bit of his spiritual energy through his meridians. This, of course, was Wei Wuxian not taking care of himself and playing the hero right after getting mad at Lan Zhan for doing the same thing. However, he was already dead and therefore technically couldn't be a martyr so, it didn’t count.
When the Cloud Recesses came into view, he had barely a wisp of spiritual energy left. Lan Zhan looked to be doing equally poorly, not to mention his A-Yuan. Entering the compound of buildings, Wei Wuxian was moderately alarmed when Lan Zhan didn’t immediately head towards the infirmary. Instead, he seemed to be heading in the direction of his private rooms. Wei Wuxian really wished he had vocal chords so he could demand to know why A-Yuan was not going to be receiving immediate medical attention for his very-obviously-life-threatening illness. Then, they landed in front of a building that was not Lan Zhan’s, and he watched as The Second Jade collapsed through the door with a desperate, hoarse cry of “ Xiongzhang!”
“Wangji?” came the tired yet concerned reply. “Why are you up? You’re on bed rest… and in seclusion.”
As he spoke, Lan Xichen quickly climbed out of bed and threw on an outer robe. Once dressed, even if haphazardly so, he made his way to his collapsed brother. When he drew close enough to actually see his brother’s figure he stopped, face draining of blood. “Wangji! Your back!"
“I’m fine, Xiongzhang,” came Lan Zhan’s pained reply. His voice was wavering and his forehead was sweating quite profusely, causing his skin to glisten under the bright moonlight. His arm was shaking where it supported him against the floor, his other arm still wrapped protectively around A-Yuan. He was Very Obviously not fine. ‘ No lying in the Cloud Recesses.’ Wei Wuxian thought to himself, though with more worry than amusement.
“Please, take A-Yuan.” Lan Zhan shifted, revealing the tiny, trembling bundle held against his chest. Lan Xichen approached tremulously, picking up the proffered child as requested.
“Wangji, where did he come from?”
“Later, Xiongzhang. He needs medical assistance. Please.”
Lan Xichen nodded and left for the infirmary immediately. On the floor, there remained a bloody, exhausted Lan Zhan, who really looked like he himself needed some medical attention. In fact, it was quite concerning that he was still not moving from where he had collapsed. Wei Wuxian went to hover above his dantian once again, and was instantly alarmed by the stillness of Lan Zhan’s chest. He was barely breathing! Stupid, stupid Lan Zhan! Was his plan to simply die?? When he could have easily flown to the infirmary and gotten medical attention for both A-Yuan and himself? What was going on with Lan Zhan? Wei Wuxian didn’t let himself dwell on the problem too long, instead pushing his spiritual energy into Lan Zhan once more. His meridians were so dry they seemed to be having trouble keeping Wei Wuxian’s energy from slipping through. That was really very highly inconvenient. Nevertheless, he doubled down and pushed as much energy as he could, willing some of it to fill up his meridians and be circulated by his core so he could heal. So he could buy A-Yuan more grass butterflies and teach him to read and write and fight and live without hunger. Finally, just as Wei Wuxian was truly about to run out completely, he felt some of his energy begin to flow through Lan Zhan's meridians properly. So, he did what he felt was obviously the only logical option and simply pushed the last of his spiritual energy into Lan Zhan. He felt it stick, felt it sink into Lan Zhan’s pathways and be circulated by his core and then, he felt himself shatter. Then he felt nothing.