A/N: Hey guys! It's been a while! Recently, one of my best friends introduced me to The Untamed/Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation/Mo Dao Zu Shi (it has so many names XD), and I am obsessed. So, of course, that means fanfictions! Along with this, a couple of one-shots in the works, and I'm sure they won't be the only ones. Anyways, hope you guys enjoy!

Chapter One

Pain.

Zixuan, dead at his feet.

Yanli, her eyes holding his as they lost their light.

Anger.

The bodies of the remaining Wens - his found family - hanging for all to see.

Yuan, nowhere to be found, but surely taken away from this world as cruelly as the others.

Sorrow of the deepest kind.

The faces of each person who had died before his eyes, their screams echoing in his mind no matter how he tried to block them out.

Each emotion washed over Wei Wuxian in waves that seemed to take his breath away as the wind tore at his clothes and the sky grew farther away. This was it; this was the end. Finally, as it should be.

But the end never came. Why did the end not come?

Wei Wuxian slowly opened his eyes, the pain tearing through his chest halting as confusion overtook it. Where was he? Certainly not Nightless City, which was where he should have been.

Hard flooring dug into his cheek where he lay on the ground, a dull pain ebbing through his body. It took a moment before he could convince himself to move, his actions slow and shaky as he pushed himself up. His surroundings made it quite clear that some type of dark magic had occurred here recently, but he didn't understand. He shouldn't be here, wherever here was. He shouldn't even be alive. Not after all that he had done: all of the pain he had caused, the deaths that had come to pass all because of him.

It had only been moments, hadn't it? Moments between now and the space in time when he had shaken himself free of Lan Zhan's hand, closing his eyes tightly against the pain he found in the eyes of his best friend and his brother who had stood beside him, both pleading for him not to leave, though for completely different reasons.

But no. It took only a few hours in which he was physically and verbally abused on various occasions for Wei Wuxian to realize that it had not been moments, but weeks since that night, and that he had somehow been revived into the body of a young man by the name of Mo Xuanyu. This discovery, paired with the markings on the floor and the cuts discovered on his body, made it easy to discern what had happened. Somehow, this Mo Xuanyu had sacrificed his very soul in exchange for that of the Yiling Patriarch. But the fool had forgotten to instruct what task he wished Wei Wuxian to complete as his part of the deal.

He didn't care, though; no, the only thing he cared about was getting as far away from those who could be harmed by his presence. He didn't even care that the cuts would remain on his body so long as his task remained incomplete. Yes, they hurt. They ached with every movement, every strain that was placed upon them. But it was only right that he have some form of punishment for all that he had done, wasn't it?

Though the door was barred from the outside, for reasons he couldn't believe had been Mo Xuanyu's doing, it didn't take much for him to make his way outside. He'd faced so many barriers in his short existence; this new version of hell was merely a puddle to step over. So he slipped away into the night, leading a donkey he had found in a stable on the Mo family's grounds; surely, whatever Mo Xuanyu wanted of him wouldn't be affected by his borrowing the animal as a traveling companion. The makeup he'd found on his face had been washed away as soon as he'd found a good water source, trusting in the anonymity of an unfamiliar face to protect him from those who would wish him dead.

He didn't want to travel through the village, but in order to get to the now-abandoned home he had left behind, he would have to. He kept his head down - something neither the Yiling Patriarch nor Wei Wuxian would ever do - as he made his way through the streets, the rising sun bringing with it crowds of people ready to do business. He didn't allow himself to stop, even as the scent of food reminded him just how long it had been since he'd eaten anything. The slop the Mo family had tried to feed him through the slot in the door wasn't even fit for the donkey, much less any human consumption. Even the sustenance he'd been forced to find in the Burial Mounds had looked and smelled more appetizing. But he hadn't allowed himself to be bothered by hunger since before Wen Qing had first inserted her needles into his skin, allowing him the freedom to run after them as soon as the paralysis had worn off, praying all the while that he wasn't too late. Though, of course, he had been.

Before he could stop them, images began to flash in his field of vision. The remaining Wens - the one who had taken him in as one of their own - their bodies publicly displayed for all to see as punishment for what he had done. They were innocent, every one of them; farmers, elders, women, children. They had done nothing to deserve their fates, and yet the Jins had felt the need to disgrace them in such a way. As for Wen Qing and Wen Ning… He could only imagine what kind of hell his friends had been put through before their bodies had been burned to ashes. The final image, though, was one that lingered even when he was able to chase away the others. His sweet little a-Yuan… He prayed the bastards had at least had the decency to give him a quick death.

Stop that. He shook his head sharply from side to side, shoving the images into the back of his thoughts and building a wall around them. He would just have to focus on other things: the hard, worn road beneath his feet; the racket of people talking and laughing as they did their morning shopping. The latter may have been a good distraction, but as the words reached his ears, he grew more and more unsure as to whether it could be considered better than the thoughts that had previously plagued him.

"I can't believe it's over. The Yiling Patriarch is finally dead!"

"Can you believe that Wei Ying actually killed the woman he was raised beside? And her husband. And so soon after the birth of their son."

"Of course I can. That man was nothing but pure evil."

He flinched. The words were worse. Certainly much worse.

His pace had grown steadily faster as their words chased after him, putting new images into his head that threatened to bring him to his knees. Jin Zixuan, his shi-jie, their son who was now without a mother or father to guide him through life. Did these people truly believe that he couldn't see their last moments, along with those of everyone else who had lost their life by his hand, each time he closed his eyes? He nearly scoffed at his own desperate thoughts. Of course, they didn't. He was the Yiling Patriarch; he deserved no semblance of compassion or the benefit of the doubt. At this point, he wasn't even sure that he could fault them or deny the truth to their beliefs.

He had nearly reached the edge of town, the breath of relief already filling his lungs in preparation, when a line of speech reached his ears, drawing him to a halt so quickly that the donkey nearly trampled him. He tilted his head to the side, brows drawn together as he strained to discern what exactly had caught his attention.

"- Hanguang Jun."

Ah. There it was. Why would they be talking about him, of all people? And with that tone to their voice, as if he were nearly as despicable as Wei Wuxian himself. He turned, pretending to busy himself with the donkey's saddle as he listened for more information. It wasn't long before he got what he wanted.

"I still can't believe that such a highly esteemed Cultivator would take the side of such an evil man."

He frowned.

"It truly is a shame. We can only hope that his punishment will be enough to return him to what he once was."

The frown deepened as his anger grew. Punishment? For what? Not trying to kill him the moment Lan Zhan had seen Wei Wuxian? He hated that a mere association with him was enough to cause his closest confidant grief.

But what was the punishment? He strained towards the men talking, but evidently, he had already missed the answers and they had moved on to a different subject with just as much passion behind their words.

Well. He supposed this meant that his plans had changed. He took the donkey's reins in his hands once more and led the animal out of the village. However, instead of turning in the direction he had meant to - away from anyone who could be hurt by his presence, he found himself headings towards Cloud Recesses. He wouldn't interact with anyone if he could help it. But he had to know just what this punishment was that could be spoken of with such fearful awe. Whatever it was, it couldn't be good.