Chapter Text
“Who are you?”
Minutes had passed since the battle ended, and the disintegrating body of the headless ghost landed in a field of dead carnations. The two followed with Lan Feiyue carrying her Guqin along the way.
Lan Feiyue settled beside the dying ghost. She strokes the strings of her white guqin, and the gentle song of Inquiry vibrates underneath her fingers.
“What is your name?” She stroked the strings.
The guqin didn’t respond.
“So that’s what it is.” He Xuan crosses his arms. “It’s fake.”
"Like the Oarfish?" Lan Feiyue asked.
He Xuan nodded. “We should leave. It’s pointless to chase answers from an empty shell.”
“I know… But back when we were fighting earlier, it showed me a vision, more like a memory. Like it was trying to show me something, but I couldn’t understand what it meant.” Lan Feiyue tries strumming the ghost again.
“Ghosts are capable of deception. They can make believable things out of beautiful lies.” He Xuan said, his voice bitter.
“Well.. It’s already dead. Might as well hear its final words.” Lan Feiyue turns her face to He Xuan.
He Xuan stayed silent.
In a final attempt, Lan Feiyue plucks a series of strings again, forming a question through the notes she forged.
Who Are You?
After what they thought was a futile attempt, the Guqin responded.
“Wow!” Lan Feiyue beamed in joy.
An Answer was given.
“What did it say?” He Xuan asked.
“It says its name is…. Shi Wudu.” Lan Feiyue mouthed.
He Xuan’s eyes narrowed.
“I’ll try to ask more.” Lan Feiyue played her Guqin again.
The guqin vibrated.
He Xuan could only grip his hand into a fist; despite always looking cold and distant, it wasn’t enough for Lan Feiyue not to notice.
“Are you alright?” Lan Feiyue asked. “You look like you’re under interrogation.” She added.
“Should I be the apple of your eye? I thought you wanted answers?” He Xuan snarled at her.
“Fine … geez, back to the real suspect.”
Soon after, the Guqin sang its answers.
Lan Feiyue’s face turned grim. “It’s blaming you for its death.” She told He Xuan.
“Hmmm…”
“How painful did that Arowana bite him?”
“Your skills in decrypting the strings still need work.” He Xuan changed the topic.
“Okay, okay, fine, fine.. hmm.” Lan Feiyue shook her head. “Maybe I do need some more practice. The answer also sounds like you know this ghost personally, do you?”
He Xuan didn’t answer, just silence.
Lan Feiyue returned to the strings again; this time, her question changed direction.
“What happened here?”
The whole field went silent, only the sound of the wind gliding across the dried carnations rustling around them. The Night is but a desolate place of the dead.
But despite all the patience they had, the Guqin never got a response. Only when the ghost was finally distinguished completely did they finally decide to give up.
“Hmm.. Maybe this clone has no idea what happened. And it’s already gone. Unfortunately, I was planning to ask more questions. He keeps calling me “brother” for some reason.” Lan Feiyue said.
“What did he show you?” He Xuan asked.
“Hmm.. It’s hard to explain.” Lan Feiyue places a hand on her chin. “It felt like I was someone from his past. Maybe a child and he keep calling me “Didi”. Maybe they had a fall out? I don’t know. It’s all confusing.”
“Did he say something specific?” He Xuan asked.
“Hmm.. I can’t remember the exact word. But it's mostly about trying to save me whether I like it or not. I wonder what happened to them. He felt so desperate. And whether I was truly in his brother’s shoes, I couldn’t help but feel guilt and regret. All I could think of was killing myself.”
“….. The Plague is still here. We should head back now.” He Xuan changed the topic again, and this time Lan Feiyue agreed.
“Okay, okay. Where should we go? Should we head back to the Apothecary?” Lan Feiyue asked.
He Xuan looked in a specific direction. “No.”
Lan Feiyue turned in the same direction.
The night looms ominously before them, debris of fallen trees and shattered earth lie devastatingly, as the road ahead reveals an abandoned building at a distance. Its dark walls blend seamlessly with the dead of night, lanterns hanging in every corner, but none are lit, and its surrounding grounds are nothing but incarnate of death, evident from the withered plants and thorns infesting around it.
Despite such an unpleasant sight, He Xuan walks towards it.
“H-hey! Wait for me!” Lan Feiyue shrieked before chasing after him.
He Xuan slowed his pace. “Keep up, Gale Princess. Time is ticking.”
“Yes, yes! I’m coming, I’m coming!”
He Xuan let out a heavy sigh.
Only when they finally arrived at the abandoned ruins were they able to see what was truly awaiting them. Veiled in a forsaken state stood what seems like an Academy. Lan Feiyue pulled out a Talisman and lit a fire, igniting every lantern across the Academy, revealing ruins of at least ten Buildings with only five left standing.
And finally, standing at the center is a statue. Most academies would place statues of well-known scholars, especially those who ascended to Civil gods. But instead of Confucius or Ling Wen, this statue appears to be a woman clad in warfare armor, with a majestic spear raised in her hands. Her hair was wrapped in a high ponytail, carved to look like it’s fluttering in the wind.
Among legendary tales of gods and heroes, there is only one female scholar who manages to ascend as a warrior.
“Of course it has to be you.” Lan Feiyue heard He Xuan growl beside her.
“You don’t like General Ningguang?” Lan Feiyue asked.
“It’s not about disliking someone or not.” He Xuan replied, dusting the statue of Liu Meirong. “Meirong is a great god in her own right, just like her peers. But compared to Qi Xiangli’s decisiveness and Water Master Lifeng’s elegance, there’s no denying that she is unbearable to deal with.”
“You seem like you’re talking out of experience. Care to share it?” Lan Feiyue giggled.
“It’s best not to.” He Xuan dismisses before walking passed the statue.
“Why not?” Lan Feiyue tilted her head before following.
He Xuan looks back at her and pauses. And then he bluntly responds. “Trust me. You wouldn’t want to hear the things that woman could do.”
“Is it really that bad?” Lan Feiyue tilted her head, still eager to know what He Xuan meant.
“Bad enough that it peaked Crimson Rain’s favor.” He Xuan admitted before entering one of the rooms.
Lan Feiyue quickly trailed behind.
The moment she entered, a room unfolded before her— Shelves rose around her like ancient sentinels, carved with fading patterns of clouds and cranes, each shelf housed with old scrolls, crumbling books, and sheets of parchment that seemed to whisper with age. Dust stirred in the air, catching the faint light that slipped through cracked shutters.
Lan Feiyue let out a heavy cough. “On second thought, maybe we should try another room. This place brims with misery and neglect.”
The door creaked shut behind her, and the echo faded into the hush of the forgotten library. She stepped carefully, her boots brushing against the uneven stone floor.
A scroll unraveled slightly as she passed, its brittle paper whispering long forgotten knowledges.
Lan Feiyue fanned the thickening dust away from her, her coughs echoing across the dead silence.
“Are you okay?” He Xuan stopped, noticing her coughing.
“It’s fine. I’m not dying physically.” Just emotionally, Lan Feiyue hissed.
“Quit the joking. If you find it too dusty, just wait for me outside,” He Xuan suggested, barely disturbing the heavy air around him, utterly unbothered.
Lan Feiyue frowned, brushing the dust from her sleeve. “Wow, how unbothered. Do you even breathe?”
He Xuan scoffs over his shoulder before walking away. “I’ve breathed worse things than dust.”
Lan Feiyue glanced at him through the haze. The dust settles over his shoulders, etching to his dark robe just as it did on hers, yet he barely even flinches. No cough, no huffs… Nothing… like a river that continues to run despite all obstacles.
“You’re not human, are you?” she asked suddenly.
The words hung between them, sharp and certain.
Of course, he wasn’t. The signs had always been there. The fact that he could shift forms—specifically his gender—at will, can spawn a skeletal fish monster, and is from Ghost City itself was already enough proof that He Xuan was anything but human.
He Xuan paused, his back still facing her. After a while, he spoke. “Does it scare you?”
“No… You won’t.” Lan Feiyue shook her head, her voice quiet but firm. “But may I at least know?”
He Xuan looked down, silent, as though weighing his words carefully. “If I do tell you… Will you fear me?”
“Is that what you think?” she breathed, almost offended. “That I’d fear you?”
He gave a low hum, neither denying nor confirming.
“I’m not the best cultivator there is,” Lan Feiyue said softly. “But whether you’re a loser of a human like me, or a hideous ghoul from the unknown, I already see you as a friend, He Xuan.”
He said nothing.
Lan Feiyue stepped closer, slipping in front of him, and gently took his hand. “If you’re not ready to tell, I’ll respect that—so long as you’re willing to have me. It’s enough.”
For a long moment, neither spoke. The silence was heavy, but not uncomfortable.
“….”
“….”
Finally, He Xuan’s fingers tightened around hers. “You spoke so highly about me when you can’t even see the best in you.” He whispered to her ear, sending chills down her spine.
Lan Feiyue couldn’t help but look away. “I mean what I said.”
“I know...” He Xuan breathed, placing a finger underneath her chin before gently lifting it, making her look him in the eye.
For that fleeting moment, the warmth of his borrowed flesh faded to dust, and his ember eyes glowed with a sorrow that could drown the sea itself—like an angler’s light trembling in the abyss, only to flash back to his current skin that He Xuan chose to show her.
“He Xuan…”
“I will tell you. Once we finish this mission.” He Xuan spoke again. “You have my word.”
They spend the rest of their time looking around the library. The books are old and deteriorating, but are miraculously readable. While the room itself is not that vast, both decided to check each shelf separately.
While He Xuan moved to inspect the dustiest corners of the room, Lan Feiyue stepped toward the front center, where something caught her interest.
On the wall hung a wooden plaque, its surface carved with the single character “Earth”. Out of curiosity, Lan Feiyue traces each line, feeling its sharp and meticulous carving as if tracing the strokes from the past.
But just as her fingers reached the final line, a flash of an image appeared before her eyes—a man in black and brown robes, trimmed with vibrant gold.
His hair was as dark as a starless night, and his eyes blazed like the unforgiving sun.
“W-wha-“ Lan Feiyue started backwards.
In a fit of panic, she didn’t notice the flimsy table beside her, that she instantly stumbled backward and straight through the floor, bringing both the table and whatever items it had down with her.
He Xuan quickly turned as soon as he heard the loud thud.
“Feiyue?” He Xuan rushed to her.
Lan Feiyue didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
“I’m fine~”
“……”
“I’m still alive~”
He Xuan let out a long, heavy sigh. “Get up.”
Lan Feiyue tilted her head and spread her arms wide, teasing. “Pick me~”
“No.” He Xuan’s voice was firm, but tense.
“Pwease,” she coaxed, flashing the most irresistible puppy eyes she could muster.
He Xuan’s face grimed in disgust, though his eyes betrayed a hint of helplessness. He let out, yet another heavy sigh before lending her one of his hands.
“Take it…” He said helplessly.
“Yey!” Lan Feiyue squeals as she happily takes his hand. Wow, I know he is strong, but I didn't expect him to be this strong!
He Xuan effortlessly pulled her. “Better?”
“Yes!” Lan Feiyue nodded enthusiastically. “Thank You.”
Just as she landed back on her feet, a light thud suddenly dropped beside her feet.
“Hmm?” Alerted by the noise, Lan Feiyue glanced down.
Beside her feet was an old manuscript—its cover worn thin, cracked, and flaking at the edges. The pages inside were yellowed and uneven, bound together by threads that looked ready to give way at any moment.
“What is it?” He Xuan noticed.
Lan Feiyue carefully picked up the old manuscript and opened it. A faint scent of dust and age instantly enveloped from its pages, as if it hadn’t been opened in decades.
“It’s….” Lan Feiyue paused.
A list of names appeared.
- Yun Beiduo, Junior Disciple of the Academy of Profound Thought, Female, 14 years old.
- Gu Tao, Scholar of the Academy of Profound Thought (Xuánsī Shūyuàn), Male, 16 years old.
- Lu Tian, Senior Master of the Academy of Profound Thought, 25 years old.
- Hung Zhongli, Consultant of the Academy of Profound Thought, Male, 50 Years old.
- Ke Qing, Junior disciple of the Academy of Profound Thought, Female, 17 years old.
- Shen Ha, Scholar of the Academy of Profound Thought, Male, 20 years Old.
- Xian Lao, Junior disciple of the Academy of Profound Thought, Male, 12 years Old.
- ………..
- ……………
Lan Feiyue continues to read the continuous list of names, recognizing at least three of them.
“Scholar Gu…. A-Qing… and Xiao Lao. These are…” And indeed she was correct.
The victims of the Slumbering Plague.