I'll burn his body tomorrow, Song Lan told himself. But then again, he had also told himself that yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that.
Every day he was confronted with the sight of Xiao Xingchen's form, and he just couldn't make himself do it.
Tomorrow, I'll give you a proper burial, he thought to himself. To be honest, he didn't have faith that he would. He sighed deeply. He wished he could say something to his friend, but for not the first nor the last time he cursed his missing tongue.
After the 'incident' in Yi City, Song Lan had spent the night secluding himself in the coffin house with Xiao Xingchen. He had sat down on the ground with his back to the wall with arms on his knees, staring at nothing in particular the entire night.
The night alternated between moments of peaceful numbness and moments where overwhelming waves of shame washed over him for what he had done to the innocent people of Yi City, living or otherwise. He tried to reason to himself with that they were already dead, but that rationalization didn't resonate with him on a deeper level. They still felt alive, still people in some capacity. Much like himself.
More than once that he thought to himself that he should burn himself together with Xiao Xingchen, and shamefully, a small voice within told him that he lacked the inner strength to do so.
He couldn't leave, fearing that he would hurt the very people he desired to protect.
At the end of the night, when the first light colored the skies pink and orange, Song Lan concluded solemnly that he had come at an impasse. He couldn't leave Yi City to roam the world, going on night-hunts and ridding the world of evil or start the sect based on common ideals as he had always wanted. He wouldn't dispose of Xiao Xingchen, the living corpses of Yi City, or himself.
Song Lan would simply have to remain here.
He didn't want to ruminate in his thoughts and feelings of this realization, so instead he would go his usual route starting from the coffin house. He made his way to Yi City. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders before entering the city, passing by the houses and the living corpses as usual, but with a somewhat ginger gait in his step.
A few men and women were walking the streets, and from inside the houses Song Lan could spot living corpses doing their daily chores, or in the very least attempting to with their stiff limbs and fingers.
He had expected the people here to be scared of him or in the very least wary, but the very next day after the 'incident', they had reverted back to their sluggish indifference. Either they had forgotten about it or perhaps they just didn't care. Some part of Song Lan was relieved.
Walking past the living corpses, Song Lan regarded the ones who walked up and down the street and watched them going about their daily lives, so to speak. After Song Lan's rampage, he had prepared himself mentally to bury the living corpses who had been reduced to just corpses, but as it turned out it wasn't necessary.
Some of the remaining people in Yi City had taken it upon themselves to gather up their dead, chopping trees in the surrounding forest and processing them into boards that could be used for coffins.
When Song Lan realized what the people intended, he felt a weight being pulled off his shoulders followed by another wave of shame that he let others take care of the destruction he had left behind. Effectively cleaning up after him.
He fled the scene to continue his route, to flee from his guilt. He realized that he was behaving in a cravenly manner. But seeing the living corpses taking care of their dead as living people would have done was too overwhelming. He walked the rest of the route through the forest, the cliffside, the roads, all thankfully around the city.
When he eventually returned to the coffin house Song Lan briefly considered walking the route again, but the thought of going through Yi City again rooted him in place.
Instead, he went into the coffin house and sat down and tried not to think about anything. He sat there for the remainder of the day and the entire night. This he was used to, to simply stay put in a single place, not moving, being in a trance-like state. It wasn't quite meditation, and it wasn't quite sleeping, but something similar. He had spent countless shichen like this while in Xue Yang's servitude.
When morning came, he couldn't put it off anymore. He needed to walk the route again. Despite there being no expectations of him to go anywhere or even leave the coffin house, he still felt a deep sense of obligation to go his usual route. Whether it was a sense of duty or if it was pure habit, Song Lan couldn't tell.
Still, he was compelled to stand up, check on Xiao Xinghcen, and go out. With a lump in his throat, he headed for Yi City. It didn't take nearly enough time before he reached the city.
The living corpses were still in the process of the funeral arrangements.
Despite the shame and guilt, Song Lan was fascinated.
With morbid curiosity he watched the people taking care if their dead. They didn't even seem to mourn, but rather just go with the motions and do the tasks that was before them. They were efficient, more so than Song Lan would ever have expected of them. Then again, before Xue Yang, this city had specialized in funerals.
Song Lan didn't quite intent it, but he ended up staying in the city, watching them for the day. Some of the living corpses worked diligently to either dig holes in the graveyard outside the city, some gathered wood for coffins, and others worked on the coffins themselves. The rest of the living corpses simply went about their day as if it was any other day, seemingly not noticing the dead or just didn't care.
Song Lan decided to pay better attention to the coffin makers, as they were the most interesting to him. Impressively, despite their stiff hands, the coffin makers deftly crafted each coffin, each fitted specifically to one of the dead, with each coffin decorated in accordance with the corpses rank in life. Whether or not it was an elder or an unmarried youth. Song Lan tried not to dwell on the implications.
In the end nine well-made coffins had been produced for each living corpse, each coffin specialized to the individual. The living corpses worked together to put them into the coffins and bury them in a graveyard right outside the city. This was all done within two days after their deaths. But living corpses didn't need to eat, sleep, relieve themselves or take breaks, so perhaps their efficiency shouldn't be a surprise, despite their slow movements.
The bodies were buried. There were no ceremonies or rituals, and no one changed to funeral or mourning clothes. A few gathered around the gravesites for an incense stick of time, and that was that.
The sun was beginning to set. Through it all Song Lan had just observed them. They were so life-like, and not at all. It was eerie.
Song Lan left after that, walking the rest of the route he had neglected since that morning. He couldn't quite figure out his own feelings to what he had witnessed in Yi City, and he felt too emotionally exhausted to try to analyze it.
Song Lan settled into a routine the next couple of days. During the nights he simply sat in the coffin house, staring out into the empty space. Not quite meditating, not quite sleeping. During the days he walked his route which took him through Yi City. Gradually he witnessed the progression of the living corpses and how they day after day repaired the houses and other structures that had been damaged during the incident.
He would think of A-Qing. Before, he would watch her walk around with her bamboo pole, simply staying nearby. She was one of the only things, apart from the odd cultivator, that would break up the routine and monotony in a day-to-day life.
While Song Lan was always tasked with trying to lead cultivators away from Yi City, she would actively try to lure them in, to discover either Xiao Xingchen, Xue Yang, or both. Whenever she was there to lure cultivators in a small spark of hope always ignited in Song Lan's chest, hoping she would succeed. More than once he thought that it was odd; Song Lan could easily destroy her, seeing as she was a threat to Xue Yang and his operations, but he was under strict orders not to touch her.
And now she was dead, truly. In the end she succeeded in leading cultivators into discovering both her daozhang. Her final act was to have Xue Yang killed.
Now Song Lan was carrying her soul in a soul-trapping pouch alongside Xiao Xingchen.
He silently vowed that once Xiao Xingchen's soul was mended, he would let her talk to him a final time, tell him what she never got to say in life.
Song Lan sighed heavily.
If Xiao Xingchen's soul would ever mend.
He tried not to think of it while walking his route. He tried not to think of anything. Just letting his mind go blank and enjoying the day and the songs of the birds.
But he couldn't.
The past couple of days the numbness and the solitude had been clawing at him. During the seven years he would in the very least see Xue Yang on an almost daily basis. Xue Yang would talk to him – or rather, Xue Yang would talk at him as much as he would mumble to himself in his eternal quest to bring Xiao Xingchen back.
Song Lan didn't realize it then, but for better or for worse, Xue Yang, and occasionally A-Qing, had kept him company, simply by being in close proximity.
Song Lan didn't know how many days it had been since he had had human contact, but the lack was already eating him away. He had tried to communicate with the living corpses, but with his missing tongue he had to try to write on the ground with his sword, but none of them seemed to be able to read.
He also wouldn't dare leave Yi City to enter civilization in fear of having another 'incident'.
Song Lan was sentenced to stay near Yi City, apart from other people for their own protection. He hadn't known how important other people were until he had to endure the solitude for – how many days had it been? Seven, ten, Fifteen? There was really no way of knowing, Song Lan hadn't counted the days.
Anger began to stir from within.
This was all Xue Yang's doing. The tongue, his death, Yi City, A-Qing, Xiao Xingchen. Baixue temple.
Song Lan wished that Xue Yang hadn't died, so he could have the chance to punish him himself.
Dark thoughts began to cloud his thoughts.
When black flames began to emanate, Song Lan cursed internally and forcefully made himself take a deep breath to calm down, no matter how difficult. He refused to lose control again. He unclenched the fists that he hadn't realized had been clenched in the first place. He placed a hand over Xiao Xingchen's soul on his breast. That, in the very least, seemed to effectively soothe his anger, for now.
He had had a couple of moments as of late where he was close to losing his anger and let the resentment overtake him. He had tried with all his might not to let it, and a few times the resentment had almost won over, but placing a hand over Xiao Xingchen helped. Every single time. Even in death, his dear friend managed to soothe him.
He was in the forest now, without knowing it he had stopped in his tracks. He began walking again of lack of anything else to do.
Breathe in, breathe out. Song Lan didn't need to breathe, but he still needed to keep his temper in check. He tried not to let his mind wander in fear of more memories that would fuel his anger and bitterness.
For once he wished the birds would be silent and leave him alone.
Song Lan continued. Through the forest to the cliff-side area.
Glancing out at the road, everything appeared normal. Song Lan was about to turn around to continue his route when movement caught the corner of his eye. He turned his attention to the road again, paying closer attention.
There was a figure down the road, a human-like being. Song Lan stopped in his tracks.
It was too far away to determine whether it was a fierce corpse or a human. The figure didn't seem to have noticed him just yet. Song Lan decided to investigate while being careful and stayed out of sight.
He moved swiftly and quietly through the cliffs and rocky terrain close by the road, making sure that he wouldn't be seen. As he moved closer, he determined that it was probably a fierce corpse by how slowly and encumbered it moved. Yet, he didn't want to take any chances. He got closer.
The figure was a man. Song Lan stayed low and crept closer. He was no close enough that he could make out more.
No.
It couldn't be.
Despite the slow movement, Song Lan could recognize the man's manner of walking anywhere, the way he carried himself, even though he appeared to be injured.
It was Xue Yang.
Song Lan's mind went blank.
He just stared dumbfounded at the man who had been his slaver for seven years. The man who had blinded him. The man who had slaughtered everyone he had ever known and loved, save Xiao Xingchen, at Baixue temple.
Xue Yang was supposed to be dead, Wei Wuxian had said as much.
Yet it seemed Xue Yang still lived. Lived, just to spite Song Lan.
Song Lan was in shock. How could Xue Yang still be alive?
The revelation didn't last long, and soon renewed fury rose in Song Lan. Locked away feelings of bitterness and loathing bubbled up to the surface, overtaking all of his senses. He drew his sword, Fuxue. With caution in the wind, Song Lan quickly approached him with angry steps. Xue Yang hadn't seemed to notice him yet.
Xue Yang seemed worse for wear. Most notably his left hand was missing, leaving an empty sleeve in its place. There were blood stains at his chest, presumably where Lan Wangji had pierced him with sword. As Song Lan got closer, he observed that Xue Yang was pale as milk, and he was sweating so much that loose strands of hair were plastered to his face. There were sweat stains at the hem of his robe.
Only when Song Lan was face to face with the murderer did Xue Yang look up, finally noticing Song Lan.
Xue Yang's eyes were glazed over, yet Song Lan could see the moment that Xue Yang recognized his face, when the reality of the situation dawned on him. Xue Yang's eyes widened, and his eyes cleared up slightly at the rush of adrenaline and alertness.
"You-eurgh" Xue Yang began in a shocked voice, but was cut off by Song Lan, who with an angry snarl had grabbed the hem of Xue Yang's robe and heaved him up, noses almost touching.
Song Lan wanted to scream at him, wanted to ask how he had the audacity to still be alive. But he couldn't. Xue Yang made sure that he couldn't when he had cut out his damned tongue.
For a moment Xue Yang looked at him with wide eyes in stunned silence. Soon a whole range of emotions crossed over his face that Song Lan couldn't describe.
Song Lan wanted to curse Xue Yang's name. He wanted to tell him of everything he had suffering during the seven years, wanted to tell him of all the crimes he had committed and how he should suffer for them. Again, if it weren't for his missing tongue.
Song Lan gritted his teeth in anger.
CURSE YOU! He wanted to scream.
He could feel the tendrils of resentment surround him. He raised his sword. Xue Yang took one look at Fuxue and began to struggle harder against Song Lan's grip.
"Wait-wait!" Xue Yang began, but Song Lan's anger drowned out his voice.
More smoke and flames of resentment shrouded them, and Song Lan could feel himself slip.
No, Song Lan thought. I can't let the resentment overtake me now. Song Lan wanted to be present for Xue Yang's punishment – his eventual execution. He couldn't cause another 'incident' and forget all his actions. He wanted to savor this moment.
Xue Yang frantically said something, probably to attempt to delay the inevitable, but Song Lan didn't hear a word. Resentment muffled all sounds around him. All he could hear was the rustling and crackling noise of resentment.
Song Lan took a deep breath, but it hardly worked. He took another look at Xue Yang and more hatred overtook him.
In an attempt to get control of himself again, he threw Xue Yang to the ground. Song Lan forced himself to close his eyes and with his free hand he sought for the soul trapping pouch. With the faint, gentle soul pulsing in his hand, Song Lan managed to calm down enough. The resentment slowly but surely dissipated.
The sounds from the world returned, and it wasn't pretty. The rough handling was probably too much for Xue Yang's weakened state as he was now on all fours and audibly retched. Song Lan scrunched up is face in disgust.
When Xue Yang was finished, he looked up at Song Lan with a wary look on his face.
"Didn't think I'd see you again. Got the nails out, I suppose." Xue Yang said.
It seemed like he wanted to follow up with something, but he abruptly shut his mouth again when Song Lan raised his sword against his neck.
I'm not going to make the same mistake, Song Lan thought. I'm not going to drag you to some sect for justice just to watch you weasel out of it again.
Song Lan drew back his sword, intent on dealing a killing blow.
"Wait, wait!" Xue Yang cried frantically, while scrambling back with the stump of his armed raised before him.
Song Lan approached, still with his sword raised. He really should get the execution over with, but seeing Xue Yang reduce to a desperate, pleading mess was thrilling. He could draw this out a little longer.
"I can bring him back! I can bring daozhang Xiao Xingchen back!"
Song Lan laughed darkly to himself. Now that was a blatant and desperate lie. If Xue Yang knew how to bring Xiao Xingchen back, he would have done it a long time ago. Song Lan felt a spike of irritation. Song Lan walked closer, slowly, while watching Xue Yang scramble backwards in a highly undignified manner.
It pleased Song Lan to know that Xue Yang would die like this. Without a thread of dignity or honor, pleading for his life no matter how futile. Deep down he knew that it reflected poorly on his character to think like this, but he decided to dwell on that later.
Xue Yang continued backing away, babbling nonsense to try to save himself. Song Lan kept approaching, enjoying every moment of it. He could see the moment in Xue Yang's eyes, when he realized that it didn't matter what he said, that Song Lan had made up his mind a long time ago.
Xue Yang's back hit some of the cliff-side. There was nowhere else to go.
"Just-" Xue Yang began, eyes downcast. There was a resigned quality to him now. He looked up at Song Lan, the corners of his eyes were suspiciously moist and pink.
"Let me see him. One last time." A silent please in Xue Yang's voice could be heard between the lines, though he guessed that Xue Yang would never say it out loud.
Song Lan was momentarily stunned. The pleae sounded so earnest and innocent. Something he never would have associated with this mass murderer that he had come to now the past years. This was a part of Xue Yang he had never seen before.
"Well, say something!" Xue Yang barked, clearly on edge. His expression a mixture of hope and fear.
Song Lan really didn't owe Xue Yang anything. Xue Yang didn't deserve to have his last wish fulfilled, not after everything. Yet despite his hate and anger, Song Lan felt a pang of sympathy. Were the roles reversed, he would definitely have wanted to see his friend one final time and say his last apologies, last words.
Xue Yang should just be cut down where he lay, but Song Lan couldn't help remembering. He thought back on how Xue Yang had relentlessly attempted to bring Xiao Xingchen back, the nights Xue Yang had pleaded at Xiao Xingchen's corpse to come on, just wake up. All the experiments with demonic cultivation, sometimes at the expense of his own well-being. At times even risking his own life.
Internally, Song Lan had sneered at Xue Yang at the beginning, but over time he had to admit as that sick and twisted as Xue Yang was, he had deeply cared for Xiao Xingchen, just as much as Song Lan did. He really should cut down Xue Yang and get it over with, but he sighed deeply, already knowing that he was going to grant Xue Yang's final wish.
Song Lan lowered Fuxue.
Xue Yang's face jerked up, looking at Song Lan in astonishment. He opened and closed his mouth slightly as if to say something, but no words came.
Tucking his sword away, Song Lan stepped back and motion for Xue Yang to get up. Song Lan thought of ways that he might regret it, but he just couldn't come up with any reasons to. After Xue Yang could say his final goodbyes, Song Lan would execute him. Xue Yang was clearly severely injured and ill, so even if he tried to escape or fight back, he wouldn't have a chance. He might even attempt to do something to Xiao Xingchen's body, but Song Lan found that highly unlikely based on the empirical evidence that Xue Yang held great reverence for Xiao Xingchen and his body.
Song Lan sighed again and cursed himself.
With great effort, Xue Yang got to his feet. Once up, he shot a suspicious and wary glance at Song Lan, and Song Lan shot a dark look back in return with a downturned lip.
They stood like that for a moment, staring each other down neither saying anything, before Song Lan turned around and walked slowly, very slowly towards the coffin house. He didn't need to look behind him to know that Xue Yang was following.
They walked for a while. Painfully slow.
It didn't take long before he could hear that Xue Yang was heaving after his breath. Perhaps he wouldn't even make it to the coffin house before he died. One could hope.
Internally Song Lan shook his head, he had agreed to let Xue Yang say his final words, and he wasn't such a fickle man that he would change his mind halfway through.
With this pace it would take at least a shichen before they reached the coffin house, but Song Lan refused to aid Xue Yang in any way. He could hear his heavy and uneven steps. It might even take longer if Xue Yang should need to take a break on the way, and it might just be a reality that he would.
A sudden feeling of elation went through Song Lan as a realisation hit him. Seven years in servitude, and suddenly the power dynamic had shifted dramatically in his favour. Xue Yang was at his mercy, and he was allowed his final wish because Song Lan had granted it, before he would execute him.
Glee rushed through Song Lan.
Though, this was quickly squashed down by the feeling of guilt. It was unbecoming of him to feel that way. Even if it was Xue Yang. He wanted to shake his head, to rid himself of these conflicting emotions, but he stopped himself in fear of Xue Yang noticing. Which was silly, for Xue Yang would soon be dead.
They continued walking.
Thankfully, Xue Yang didn't say a word on the way. Perhaps he was contemplating what he would say to Xiao Xingchen, contemplating his death, or perhaps he was simply too exhausted and ill to say anything. Not that it would have mattered as Song Lan was unable to respond in any way, and he felt unwilling to write anything on the ground for him. So they proceeded in silence.
This proved to be a massive disadvantage for Song Lan as it came with what he had tried to avoid for some time. Thoughts. With the excitement and adrenaline dying down, all his thoughts and doubts came rushing back.
Song Lan knew that he should think of all the harm Xue Yang had done, the people he had hurt, maimed, or killed. Instead, he thought of Xiao Xinghcen. What if Xue Yang could actually succeed? What if there was even a small chance that his dear friend could return to him? He knew that it was a childish thought, and that there was little to no hope, but still he allowed himself to have it.
If anyone could succeed, Xue Yang was the only person in the world who had a chance of succeeding, being a demonic cultivator. Also, Xue Yang was the only one in the world who had a real drive to make it happen.
Xue Yang was the only one who cared about Xiao Xingchen just as much as Song Lan.
His scalp prickled uncomfortably at the thought.
Something else began to nag at Song Lan. He thought what he had been thinking of earlier that day, how he was about to succumb to loneliness. How the lack of human interaction was beginning to get to him. It was deeply uncomfortable, but thinking it over, Song Lan knew that he wouldn't allow anyone else to come close, that he would do what he could to chase anyone away, for their own protection.
What was the chance that Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji would return to Yi City, just to keep Song Lan company.
Close to none.
Song Lan tried to keep his mind blank, to stop the thoughts, but it wasn't possible now that he'd had them. He felt nauseous, even if the ability to retch was beyond him now.
Xue Yang was the only one who would stay, the only one who would keep him company, and the only one who would bring Xiao Xingchen back.
Coldness settled in Song Lan's chest. He really shouldn't give these thoughts any credit. Xue Yang would just as soon pierce needles through his skull again, or even kill Song Lan for good, given the chance.
But desperation has overtaken him. The same desperation to stay alive that he had seen in Xue Yang earlier.
This walk towards the coffin house was too slow. He really should have swallowed his pride and carried Xue Yang, or better yet just slain him the moment he had recognized him. Perhaps even let the resentment take over. Then he would never have contemplated this.
Once again, he tried to keep his mind blank. Just walk to the coffin house, let Xue Yang do or say whatever he wanted for a last time, and that was it.
Song Lan knew that wasn't the case. He knew that he had changed his mind. Despite all reason, he knew he would let Xue Yang live. Let him stay. For selfish reasons.
Just as he had the thought, he heard Xue Yang collapse on the ground with an exhausted grunt.
Song Lan turned around and regarded the other.
Well, perhaps his dilemma had solved itself after all. He observed Xue Yang for a moment. He was still breathing.
Or maybe he would have to carry Xue Yang after all.