ignore this

by kitiycat2266

wanted to used text to speech. ignore this

Main Content

Archive of Our Own betaArchive of Our OwnUser NavigationHi, DemonOfADiamond!PostLog Out

Site NavigationFandomsBrowseSearchAboutSearch Works

Work Search:

tip: "sherlock (tv)" m/m NOT "sherlock holmes/john watson"

Skip header

Actions

Chapter by Chapter Bookmark Mark for Later Comments Share Download

Work Header

Rating:

Mature

Archive Warning:

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category:

M/M

Fandom:

魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù

Relationships:

Lán Zhàn Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng Wèi WúxiànWèi Yīng Wèi Wúxiàn Original Female Character(s)Wèi Yīng Wèi Wúxiàn Wēn Níng Wēn Qiónglín Wēn QíngJiāng Yànlí/Jīn ZǐxuānOther Relationship(s) Mentioned

Characters:

Wèi Yīng Wèi WúxiànLán Zhàn Lán WàngjīWēn Qíng (Módào Zǔshī)Wēn Níng Wēn QiónglínJiāng FēngmiánJiāng YànlíLán QǐrénLán Huàn Lán XīchénSū Shè Sū MǐnshànWēn RuòhánJīn GuāngshànNiè MíngjuéNiè HuáisāngLuó "Mián Mián" QīngyángWáng LíngjiāoJiāng Chéng Jiāng WǎnyínOther Character(s) Mentioned

Additional Tags:

Alternate Universe - Time TravelTime TravelTime Travel Fix-ItTemporary Character DeathCanon-Typical ViolencePOV MultipleTagged Characters all have at least one POV in the storyHurt/ComfortGrief/MourningIdentity RevealGolden Core RevealCultivation World CriticalNot Jiāng Chéng FriendlyAbusive Yú ZǐyuānAngst with a Happy Ending

Language:

English

Series:

Part 1 of To Be Forgotten

Collections:

MXTX Epic Journeys Big Bang, Books Read - Completed (GMODC)

Stats:

Published:2022-10-12Completed:2022-10-12Words:70983Chapters:6/6Comments:75Kudos:657Bookmarks:165Hits:6215

Ad Oblivione

Baph, HikariNoHimeWriter

Summary:

There's a child lingering in the outskirts of the cultivation world. No one knows where he comes from, his age nor his goal.

This is the story of how he found his way back home.

Notes:

My first piece for the MDZS Journeys Big Bang! I had a lot of fun writing it, as well a many tears and many laughs in the way! This is the first of six chapters. All of them will be posted tonight.

Big thanks to Baph for working with me on this, both with the writing and betaing. Ad Oblivione wouldn't exist without you

Hope y'all enjoy the ride

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

There's a child lingering in the outskirts of Meishan. No one knows where the child comes from, their gender or their age. The few people who have caught sight of them all report the same vision: a small human clad in dirty, black clothes with a bundle in their arms. They believe the child to be an orphan. Only an orphan would look so unkempt in life and death alike. The bundle they carry is the only clean thing about them. It's a beautiful yet miserable sight, the witnesses all agree on. It's impossible to tell if the child is alive at all.

One thing is for sure, however: good things will follow wherever the child is spotted. Malicious ghosts and corpses are put to rest and monsters disappear into the night never again to be seen. Peace fills the hearts of those living in the areas the nameless child appears at.

It doesn't take long before they start revering the child's image as that of a deity.

They don't build shrines nor burn incense for them. All they do is leave a basket of food on the crossroads and pray that the nameless child will come for their rescue. It doesn't have an immediate effect, but those who believe are patient and resilient. They wait. And wait. And wait. And, when their hopes start to strain, their prayers are heard.

It doesn't only happen in Meishan, though. Similar occurrences have been reported across the lands for years now. There's no pattern as to when or where the nameless child appears. All that's left behind is a trail of peace and a shocking amount of killed prey, from monsters to ghosts to ghouls.

It's a good thing. Less people are dying and more people are finding safety in their homes. All for the price of one food basket and an unyielding faith.

The news is not seen kindly by the cultivation world.

For centuries, Clans of all sizes have reigned far and above when it comes to cultivation and exorcisms. It's for them that the common people have reached out when in trouble. They are the rulers and the saviors, the last defense the world has against monsters and the undead. Maybe, because of this, they cannot accept that there's someone, something out there helping people for no gain.

They do not care about the common people. They care about control and glory. That's all that really matters in the power play that their politics has become.

And yet, they can do nothing against the nameless child. They can't do anything to stop it, and the common people who gave them the power they hold today have no reason to continue paying and believing in them.

The Yunmeng Jiang Clan is no different. Though Jiang-zongzhu is yet to show any signs of contempt towards the nameless child's tale, the lady of Lotus Pier made no attempt to hide her disgust at the matter. Her open animosity encourages more dissatisfied voices to rise, and before long Jiang-zongzhu has a number of complaints in his hands. He shouldn't allow a street urchin to do as it pleases at Yunmeng. Their Clan cannot be so weak to let the safety of their people at the hands of the unknown. They must do better, be better than all those Clans who failed so miserably at stopping the nameless child.

That's what they say, but they failed to realize a very important truth: out of all lands overseen by the Five Great Clans, Yunmeng is the only one that has seen no sights of the nameless child. How could Jiang-zongzhu stop something that has never happened? It is impossible, but the impossible will not deter people from demanding. He knows it well. The knowledge is an invisible burden weighing down on him.

"A-Die," Jiang YanLi calls out. Her voice is soft like the waves of the lakes surrounding Lotus Pier. The sight of her soothes a wound Jiang FengMian can show no one. She steps into the office, a tray with steaming tea and sweetened lotus seeds in her hands. "I brought you food."

Jiang FengMian looks at this child of his. Jiang YanLi is a good girl, soft-spoken and gentle. She is thoughtful and kind to a fault, always looking after all of them and providing for them in whatever way she is able to.

Her existence is the only thing Jiang FengMian will never regret in this life of his.

He smiles at her. She's wearing a new daxiushan today. Instead of plain purple, this one has a delicate lotus pattern around the edges. It's beautiful. It's perfect for Jiang YanLi.

"I worried you weren't eating well. It's been days since you last shared a meal with us." YanLi's voice is pleasant to the ears. She doesn't make demands, nor does she outrightly pry for reasons. Jiang FengMian's jawline hardens at her words all the same. "A-Cheng is afraid he'll be the same when he becomes Clan Leader."

Jiang FengMian doesn't reply to that. How could he? How could he tell his daughter that it's not his work that kept him from joining them in their meals? How could he admit so openly that he is simply avoiding the presence of his wife and, to some extent, his own son?

He can't. Not without giving up the last shreds of pride and decency he tries so hard to hold onto—to be the best father he can be, to be a Clan Leader his ancestors can be proud of, to remain the same Jiang FengMian Wei ChangZe once referred to as his dear friend.

He closes his eyes and takes in a breath. How long has it been since news of A-Ze's death reached Lotus Pier? Four, five years? He is not sure anymore. He still thinks of the child they left behind, the child Jiang FengMian tried so hard to find for years on end. He thinks of the tale of the nameless child the cultivation world despises so much, a child covered in dirt and lacking all sorts of love and care.

Jiang FengMian prays that A-Ying found a better fate than that.

"Thank you, A-Li," he says, accepting the tea cup. He drinks it with a small smile that hides the chill of a storm underneath.

He put everything he had into finding A-Ying for so long. Years of enduring Yu ZiYuan's rage, of watching as she slowly poisoned his relationship with their children, of turning his eyes from the rumors started by his own wife to sully his friends' names. And yet—and yet.

He can't even remember why he stopped in the first place.

Jiang FengMian swallows. Tomorrow the preparations for the next Discussion Conference will start. He'll need to work harder to keep up with everyone's expectations and make sure nothing tarnishes the reputation of the Yunmeng Jiang Clan. The greatest obstacle to this is his own wife.

"Will you have dinner with us tonight?" she asks, and this is perhaps the most direct she can get around him.

His smile becomes bitter. "I will try."

Jiang YanLi smiles at him, and bows her head before leaving the office. The truth sits heavy between the two of them, silent yet impossible to ignore.

Jiang FengMian does not join them that night.

Lan QiRen has heard the stories. He heard about the nameless child that travels across the lands and offers help to all who need it. He heard of the blessing the child gifted to the people of Gusu, the comfort and safety those at Caiyi Town enjoy from since their appearance.

Most Clan Leaders abhor that child. They want them dead, their soul never to be found again. Search parties and countless investigations are being led right now in the hopes of finding the perpetrator of those noble deeds.

Lan QiRen is searching for that child, too. Not to eradicate nor punish, but to understand. He wants to see it for himself, this child that spreads equal amounts of love, hatred and fear in the hearts of those who hear their stories. He wants to know whether this child is truly a ghost and, if so, what ties them to this vicious world.

He has his suspicions, of course. An orphan most likely only has one great goal in their minds. Lan QiRen wonders if he could help, if he could find the child's parents and grant them a peaceful afterlife.

He finds the child on a moonless night.

The air near the borders with Qishan is heavy and stagnant. It's a natural reminder of what lies beyond the plains and mountainous terrain in front of him: the sun itself, standing proud and mighty above all Clans, only a snap of fingers away from wreaking havoc on the world. The threat is always there, forcing them to step down and just accept that this is all they can do, that survival always comes with a price.

A shallow, fake peace is always better than the brutality of war.

There's a small, lonely figure standing on the side of the road. The night is dark enough that Lan QiRen can't discern the child's features. He can tell that the child isn't quite short. Maybe around the same height as Lan Zhan, though it's hard to tell if they also share the same age. The child is notably thin, but not as much as you'd expect from an orphan. There's no odd smells nor dirt to be seen on their skin. Their clothes are surprisingly well-made, as well. Someone has either taken care of the child, or someone gave nicer clothes as an offering.

A bell chimes when the child turns around. Lan QiRen recognizes the sound as belonging to the Jiang Clan's clarity bell. The bell itself hangs from a red tassel tied to a sword handle. The sword looks like it's of high quality, yet Lan QiRen can't recognize it in the darkness surrounding them. He wonders if that sword, as well as the bell, belongs to the child's parents.

"You shouldn't be here." The child's voice sounds low, yet it echoes with strength and wisdom that could never belong to a young human. It's clearly the voice of a boy, amplified by the means of cultivation.

Who are you?, the question repeats in Lan QiRen's mind without stopping. There's something about this boy, this child, this voice that puts him on edge. A discomfort settles in his bones, aching and impossible to ignore. It hurts. For some reason, Lan QiRen thinks he deserves it, both the pain and discomfort.

He swallows. "I came to help you."

There's a beat of silence. The boy's gaze feels heavy on Lan QiRen. He feels as though he's being evaluated, like his worth as a cultivator and a human are being assessed at this very moment. He wonders if this is what his students feel like during his lectures. If that is so, Lan QiRen feels sorry for them.

"You want to help me?" the boy asks slowly. Lan QiRen wonders what kind of expression he is making. He feels glad he cannot see it. "Why?"

Why, indeed. He can't give any solid reason, not when he knows so little about the boy. Even now, he can't say for certain that there's life in his body. There are powerful ghosts in this word capable of creating a physical body, after all. It is often impossible to tell them apart without physically touching them.

"They'll hunt you down for what you did." It is not a lie. It is reasonable enough. There's no telling what will happen to this boy if the other Clans get to him first. Lan QiRen does not wish to find it out. "Please, let me help you."

"Is that so?" The boy exhales lightly. The air around him trembles and undulates. It reminds Lan QiRen of a ghost's aura. The boy shakes his head. "Do you believe I have committed a crime, Lan QiRen, to need your salvation?"

He did nothing. All he did is what cultivators ought to do—to help and protect the common people. There's no wrongness in his actions, nor should he be punished for his righteousness.

It does not mean that the Clans are righteous.

They see this child as an enemy. A rebel against their authority and force. A threat against the fragile power balance they managed to achieve over the course of generations. They do not care whether it's friend or foe, right or not, this child's very existence will be erased the moment they get their hands on him.

Lan QiRen closes his mouth. For some reason, he feels like the boy smiled.

"I do not need help. I do not want it, either." The boy takes a step forward. Lan QiRen notices a flute hanging from his waist. He can't tell which type, though. "If you have time to spare and come all the way here, use it to rethink why you needed to come and where you stand."

"I already said what I came for." Lan QiRen narrows his eyes. He cannot stop the anger simmering deep within at the blatant show of disrespect from someone who looks so much younger than himself.

"You did... And it's a lie." The boy's voice remains unchanged. He sounds as though this is a discussion he's had a thousand times and has since grown tired of it. A repeated dance he has no desire in taking part anymore. "You did not come for me. You came for yourself, to show that you're different from those who want me to disappear and merciful enough to offer me help instead."

The boy turns around. Lan QiRen instinctively reaches out to him. The air around the child undulates once again, and this time Lan QiRen can see it, the translucent shape of a woman curled around the boy. She stares at him with empty eye sockets and snarls through several rolls of sharp teeth. A ghost, one who's barely hanging onto her humanity yet protects this child with everything she has.

"Actually," the boy pauses in his walk, "if you truly still want to help me, then pass on my message to those foolish Clans of yours."

Lan QiRen nods. He listens, and can only watch as the boy and his companion ghost disappear into the darkness.

"You can't destroy a forgotten existence?" Jin GuangShan's fan moves quicker with each word he utters. The message left by the nameless child brings forth a plethora of different reactions. He glances nervously at his fellow Clan Leaders. "What does that mean?"

He's sweating profusely by now. It's equal parts due to the hot weather of Yunmeng and his own anxiety. The situation with the nameless child has stretched over for years now. For the first time, one of them made contact with the entity, and those ominous words are the only thing left for them.

"I do not know either," Lan QiRen answers. His eyes are lined with traces of exhaustion. It's probably been a long time since he's had a decent night of sleep. "The only thing for certain is that he has no fear, nor does he believe he can be caught."

A sneer cuts the air. Jin GuangShan flinches at the sound of that voice, the cadence and pitch all too similar to his own wife's.

Yu ZiYuan sits by Jiang FengMian's side as the Lady of Lotus Pier. They have separate tables, about half the size of all other Clan Leaders'. Jin GuangShan knew the Violet Spider often went out of her way to make it clear that she's not a part of Yunmeng Jiang; the current display only serves to strengthen that notion.

Jin GuangShan almost pities Jiang-shixiong. Almost, for Jin GuangShan cannot forget the beat waiting for him in his own home. Jin-furen is just as fierce and forceful as her sworn sister. If anything, neither of them deserved to marry either of them.

"It's just an arrogant street rat, below even a servant. What can he do?! Accepting this situation is not different from throwing away our pride as cultivators at all!"

Yu ZiYuan's twin servants stand behind her, expressionless and motionless. Jin GuangShan knows they'll move at a moment's notice to protect their lady if need be, quicker than the lightning whip Yu ZiYuan wields as an extension of her own body.

"There's no need to rush." Jin GuangShan turns towards the source of that voice. Wen RuoHan doesn't look at any of them. Instead, he looks at his wine cup with an amused smile. "When the time comes, he'll have what's coming to him."

On the far end of the corner, on the tables prepared for the heirs of each Clan, Jin GuangShan catches sight of his son. Jin ZiXuan does not look back at him. Jin GuangShan's gaze then falls on the Jiang heir. It's hard to tell from this distance, but at that moment, Jiang Cheng seems to be burning with hatred deep inside.

Jin GuangShan tilts his head, the tip of his fan pressed against his mouth. Interesting.

The first time Jiang YanLi saw him was by accident.

She was supposed to be spending time with her fiancé while her mother and Jin-furen went out on a Night Hunt. It shouldn't take more than a day or two, and her mother expects her to become closer to Jin-gongzi. However, Jin-gongzi left early in the morning with his master and a number of other disciples, and Jiang YanLi was left alone in the massive tower.

It didn't take long before the oppressive atmosphere of the place became too much and Jiang YanLi sneaked out for a moment of much-needed reprieve.

The fields of peonies are a sight to never forget. It's a beautiful place, ethereal and almost magical. The smells sweeter than any other place Jiang YanLi went to before. She can see herself learning how to love this scenery in a not so far-off future. Maybe she would spend her mornings taking strolls among the sea of peonies, sometimes alone, sometimes in the company of her child, and her husband. Maybe. The only thing set in stone is that she will be Jin-furen one day. The rest... Only time can tell.

It's in the middle of such a walk that she catches sight of him.

Jiang YanLi almost missed his presence altogether. The flowers are tall in this area and the boy was crunched down on the ground. Jiang YanLi only noticed him because his black hair stood out against the flowers. That, and his companion.

She blinks. It takes a few moments before Jiang YanLi can see her form clearly. She is beautiful, with brown hair tied up in a flower-shaped bun and robes of silk in light shades of white and pink and golden. Her eyes are closed shut, and her lips curve into a soft smile. When the boy raises his face to smile back at her, the woman reaches out to clean the mud on his face with a caring touch.

Jiang YanLi's heart aches at the sight. She has no doubt that the woman is a ghost, but the boy looks very much alive under the pale sun. And yet, the way they look at each other, the quiet comfort and understanding, it all makes a painfully beautiful, intimate image.

She wonders, has her mother ever looked at her with so much affection? Unguarded, warm, and just so full of love it could steal away others' breath and make them envy for something they'd never have? Jiang YanLi doesn't know. Perhaps, when she was too young to remember. She hopes it did. Any other option is too cruel, unbearable to accept and admit.

What child does not wish to be loved by their mother?

"Ah, Jiang-guniang." Jiang YanLi's eyes widen slightly at the sudden address. The boy is standing now, looking at her with a troubled smile on his face. He is not much taller than A-Cheng is, and the baby fat on his cheeks tells her he's also about the same age. There's a sword on his back, with a red tassel hanging from the pommel, and a dizi hanging on his waist. "This one apologizes for disturbing you."

Jiang YanLi swallows. The ghostly woman is nowhere to be seen. Maybe she doesn't want to be seen by strangers. If so, Jiang YanLi silently apologizes for intruding.

"You did not," Jiang YanLi reassures him with a light smile. She doesn't move closer, unsure of how the boy would take the increased proximity. "I don't think I've seen you before. Are you a new disciple?"

His black clothes couldn't be more different from the whites and golds of Lanling Jin Clan. Jiang YanLi hasn't heard of the Clan accepting new outer disciples either. The boy's dialect is different, as well. She can't tell whether it's closer to Yunmeng's or Yiling's, but she's sure it falls somewhere in-between.

The boy looks away from her. He raises his right hand. He's holding a couple of peonies. When he speaks again, his voice is gentle. "I am here to fulfill a friend's wish."

"A wish?"

"Yes." The boy's eyes meet hers again. Jiang YanLi shivers at the intensity of his gaze. It almost feels familiar, yet she knows she has never seen this person before in this lifetime. "She passed away a few days ago. She asked to be buried with her favorite flowers, so I came to pick some." He glances at the tower looming over them. His smile turns bitter, mocking and almost poisonous. "They won't care about a few missing flowers, but they will behead anyone who tries to take a single one."

Jiang YanLi's breath catches in her throat. Those words settle something dark and uncomfortable in the pit of her stomach. She swallows, and forces a smile.

"May I ask your name?" she asks. When the boy looks at her again, Jiang YanLi quickly adds, "I promise I won't tell anyone I saw you here."

The boy doesn't answer right away. Then, he shakes his head. There's a shadow in his eyes that Jiang YanLi can't quite understand.

"You'd be better off forgetting all about me, Jiang-guniang."

Oh. Jiang YanLi doesn't know why, but hearing this child speaking with this quiet, sad voice breaks her heart more than Jin-gongzi's indifference ever managed to. She wants to reach out to him, to hold and comfort him until he finds his smile again. She would pat his head and call him—

Call him what?

Her lips tremble. Confusion whirls in her heart. She doesn't know what she can say, what she can do to make things better. Can she make things better at all? She never did, not in her own home, not with her fiancé, how would she make it to a stranger she just met?

"Do you think—" She pauses when the boy's eyes meet hers again. There's an unspeakable weight in his gaze. For this one moment, she accepts all of it. "Tell me your name next time we meet."

The boy's eyes widen at her words. Then, they narrow into crescents and his lips stretch into a smile. A real smile, not free from the sadness and shadows he holds in his heart, but still genuinely happy.

"This one would be much blessed to meet you again, Jiang-guniang!"

He leaves with those words, disappearing in the sea of white faster than most humans could dream of. Jiang YanLi looks at the slowly rising sun. It's only partially visible through the clouds. It's still beautiful. Just like that boy's smile.

"You don't let yourself be seen on purpose often."

The sun is almost setting. Soon, the darkness will cover these lands once again, and creatures will wreak havoc all over. Many people fear the night. ZhiRuo did, too, before, when she still had life in her and too much to lose. At the time she could still see the colors of the world. Now, she relies on the energies surrounding her and the powers of her little companion to guide her through this world.

She still remembers the day they met clearly. This child was a lot smaller than he is now, body reduced to skin and bones and hunger written all over his face. He was an orphan wandering through the forest with tear-streaked cheeks and wounds no child should have to bear.

And yet, no matter how lonely nor how much pain he felt, this child showed no fear. He faced the darkness in his path with his head held high.

He looked at ZhiRuo's empty eyes and smiled.

She can feel his gaze on her. ZhiRuo can't remember being looked at with so much affection and acceptance before. It makes her feel loved in a way she never thought possible before. ZhiRuo can only hope to return at least a fraction of this love.

"My Shi—No, Jiang-guniang is the only person I could never hide from." He's shaking his head softly. When he walks, the chimes of a bell echoes. ZhiRuo knows this bell isn't supposed to chime unless it's being fed with spiritual energy. It's a purposeful action to guide her way.

"You do not intend on meeting her again." ZhiRuo points out.

The sounds of a nearby stream catches her attention. Fresh water is always a good thing. It's an opportunity to bathe and cook a decent meal. Perhaps this will be a lucky chance to catch fish. With the right herbs and seasonings they could make a good stew.

There's a sigh. "You and I both know chances of that happening are low." ZhiRuo knows. She also knows her companion often goes out of his way to avoid those chances, staying far away from Yunmeng area at all times. "It's not that I won't be unhappy to see her again."

"But that can't happen," she concludes. ZhiRuo turns her head around. The wind shakes the leaves on the branches above. It also sways the bell on the sword. ZhiRuo's formless body cannot feel its blessing. "I know you have your reasons. I also know that you'll never tell me them. But I just want to see you happy, baobao."

The boy pauses. He reaches out to ZhiRuo. His small hand wraps around her fingers. ZhiRuo's lips part. His skin is warm, warmer than her entire existence is now. He's kind, and gentle, and ZhiRuo's heart aches all the more for this child whose name she doesn't even know.

"Thank you," he replies, quiet, softly, every bit gentle and every bit fragile. "I'm glad I have you, jiejie."

For there is no one else for me.

His parents are long gone. The sword, the bell and the dizi are all proof of it. ZhiRuo helped him hunt these bits of memories down, comforted him as he cried. It wasn't a sad cry. It was a cry from relief. Relief that, at the very least, he could have this. He could carry his parents with him and honor them with his very life.

ZhiRuo vowed to stand by his side every step of the way, for as long as she is able to. She'll see his growth in the place of his true family, and be his home when he has none. For him, she'll be the mother she could never have been.

She smiles. If only...

"So am I."

Nie HuaiSang has always liked stories. His mother used to read tales and sing lullabies that spoke of fearless heroes and gentle-hearted princesses. She was the main reason Nie HuaiSang enjoys all forms of art and poetry over the murderous brutality of his Clan.

It didn't take too much for the nameless boy's story to catch his attention.

Even with Lan-xiansheng's story of his encounter with the nameless boy, many details still evade Nie HuaiSang. It pains him not to know everything, to be unable to form a clear, conclusive picture of this supposedly forgotten existence.

What does that even mean? Is the nameless boy a hero whose stories faded in time? Is he perhaps the son of a Clan Leader taking revenge for the abandonment of his parents? Is he devil? A ghost? A god?

Devils would be more focused on destroying humanity instead of helping them. Common ghosts wouldn't be so elusive as to avoid the combined efforts of most Clans. And gods... Well, gods are all too caught in their own messes to deal with the matters of the human realm.

No. This child is a living human. Nie HuaiSang is sure of it. He's a human who chose to forgo living with other humans. An existence simultaneously twisted and kind enough to be seen as worth protecting by supernatural beings.

It's an exhilarating thought.

Nie HuaiSang wonders how powerful this one child truly is. He wonders, with a power so big, could he bring change to this world of theirs? A gentler, kinder world, where justice reigns and humans strive to help and save others—could such a dream come true?

He does not know. A person can serve as a catalyst, but true change can only happen if others follow through. Nie HuaiSang thinks of the ending his father faced and the way things are now. The adults already have everything, every reason they can possibly need to rebel and make things change. They choose to do nothing, just as they turned a blind eye to the reason why Nie MingJue has to step up as Clan Leader at such a tender age.

It's infuriating.

Nie HuaiSang doesn't blame the nameless boy for not wanting anything to do with this mess. If he could, he, too, would rather be forgotten.

But he can't. And so Nie HuaiSang curls down on his bed and closes his eyes, hoping beyond hope that somehow, something will be better tomorrow.

"Wu Ming?" Jin ZiXuan furrows his brows.

OuYang-gongzi nods energetically. His face is colored red under the sun, his golden core not strong enough to hold a physical form nor protect him from the elevated temperatures. "No one knows his name, so we may as well just call him Wu Ming. It's easier that way, isn't it?"

Jin ZiXuan's frown deepens. In truth, he does not know what to think of the nameless boy. There are far too many rumors and contradicting tales and too little facts to draw conclusions from. The closest they had to learning about that boy was through Lan-xiansheng, and that was far from satisfactory in terms of results.

His father isn't happy with the situation. The elders and seniors are more than just dissatisfied with the nameless entity continuously stealing prey and the faith of the common people. He knows the situation can't be much better at the other Clans. His mother helpfully filled him in on how Yunmeng Jiang is faring and all the reasons why Jin ZiXuan should make a visit to his fiancée.

That annoying insistence aside, Jin ZiXuan did learn some interesting things. Such as the fact that Yunmeng is the only place the nameless boy never visited. At first, that could be seen as a blessing. Jiang-zongzhu is free from the political mess this became and there shouldn't be dissatisfaction over the boy's existence. It's the ideal outcome, one that many would kneel and beg for.

Reality isn't that kind to Jiang-zongzhu.

The disciples keep demanding plans and countermeasures on the odd chance that the nameless boy does appear. Civilians file in complaints in increased regularity as they, too, want the same results and safety those in other regions are finding under the nameless boy's protection. Clan Leaders are starting to look at Yunmeng Jiang with suspicion.

All that not to say the situation at Jiang-zongzhu's own family. Yu-furen's temper only became worse with the years and their heir, Jiang WanYin, is following the same path as his mother. Jin ZiXuan has heard of how absent and distant Jiang-zongzhu is as a father from his mother; knowing Jiang WanYin's temper and cultivation, he can't truly find it himself to blame Jiang-zongzhu for it.

A hateful wife, a child who is absolutely clueless about cultivation and another who is ill-tempered and mediocre at best—Jiang-zongzhu's self-control and patience and willingness to try to make things work should be commended.

Not that Jin ZiXuan will ever say this out loud. Everywhere he goes, eyes watch him and ears strain to hear his every word. He cannot risk letting this reach his mother and, in turn, Yu-furen.

That would be a real disaster.

"I kinda envy Wu Ming's courage," another gongzi speaks in a dreamy voice. Jin ZiXuan can't remember his name. He just remembers that his Clan stems from the Qinghe area. "He's just doing what he wants and what he believes is right, and the ones who benefit from his actions are the ones who truly need it. How can he be anything but a hero?"

Jin ZiXuan pushes down the urge to argue. They're cultivators. The sole reason why they follow this path is to help the common people. Their powers are meant to purge evil and cleanse the worries in people's hearts. That's all they exist for.

For twelve years Jin ZiXuan blindly believed it. The golden walls of his home are the accumulation of good karma over generations of the Jin family. They're proof of their good deeds, maintained by the gratefulness and faith of the people who share with them parts of their income to keep the Clan running and recruiting new disciples. They earned the right to sport the vermilion mark on their foreheads.

But is that right? Did they really do the right thing? Was the common good the ultimate goal in their hearts all this time? Then why did their people withdraw their money and turn towards a baseless rumor in hopes of getting the help they need?

His doubts only grow stronger the more time passes. The nameless boy inadvertently turned Jin ZiXuan's world upside down and he does not know what to believe anymore. He has no answer for his questions. Even if he did, what could he possibly do? He's just a thirteen-year-old disciple who happens to be the son of a powerful Clan Leader. He won't inherit the Clan for years. He has no power to do anything, to change anything.

And so he closes his eyes.

There is no merit in dwelling when no result can be achieved. If he can't change anything... Then there is no reason he should try to change himself either.

"Stop speaking nonsense," he admonishes them in a cold voice. His fellow young masters flinch at the tone. "The Night Hunt is about to start. I won't talk to anyone who can't bring home at least one worthy catch."

"Yes, sir!"

There's a place that no one, human or not, alive or not, should venture into. A place made of human bones and hopelessness, a death so all-encompassing it is impossible to run away from it.

It should be impossible, at least.

But this little human seems to find amusement in such a word, turning it into a challenge that he never fails to overcome in the end. He makes a home of the mountain of bones and reckons resentment as an extension of his power. He barges into any place he sees fit, uncaring of who or what resides beyond. A fearless little thing, this human is. Such fearlessness can only be achieved by a heart that has nothing else to lose.

An existence forgotten by gods and time alike, trampled by humans and cursed by one he once held dear.

It is intriguing enough that even a centuries-old blood-thirsty beast has to stop and watch.

The child shouldn't be more than twelve or thirteen years of age, yet he carries himself with the confidence and the power of an adult. His clothes are darker than night itself and he wears pieces of his past and loved ones as weapons meant to protect and save. He is undoubtedly human and his veins burn with the power of a fully-developed golden core. On his side, a creature so unsightly it's a miracle it was allowed to exist so long.

The one standing on the edge of a lake is nothing but a growing child.

The one trapped in the ripples of water is a scarred warrior who saw too much, survived too much to see true joy and freedom in life.

And yet, the child smiles.

He reaches for his dizi. The notes of a song echo in the walls of a cave. It is a beautiful song, but also lonely. The yearning for a love that'll never be fills the ears and heart of a monster.

What do you want from me? The monster's voice comes from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. It's a timeless, lifeless thing that should not belong to this world.

"I want peace." The boy's smile does not waver.

I cannot grant your wish. This monster is far too gone now. It can't remember its original purpose, nor the reason for its existence. All it remembers is the taste of blood and the dark power crawling over its skin. You cannot bring peace to the world alone.

"I know." The boy sits down on the hard ground. There was once a pool of blood at that very spot. The boy does not seem to mind. "I do not wish peace for the world. One person alone cannot change anything." There's something bitter in his voice. He speaks from painful experience. "I just want peace for myself."

And what does that entail for you? Different beings seek different things. For this monster, peace would be to have freedom to eat as many humans as it wishes without dealing with the nuisance of arrows and swords against its skin.

"For now, all I need is a favor in exchange of this song." The boy's fingers tap on the dizi. The monster agrees with a deep yet nonexistent hum. The boy's smile grows. "I'll tell you when the time comes."

Rascal. The monster's snap makes the boy laugh heartily. I should kill you for your insolence.

"Trust me, my friend. You do not want to fight me. Not now, and definitely not in a few years." His gaze hardens, eyes of steel that hide nothing of the willpower and murderous intent hidden in that small body. "If you have any attachment to your life, heed my words. You do not want to be my enemy."

The monster remains silent. There is nothing it can say in the face of that human.

It does not forget those words.

There's a child lingering in the outskirts of the cultivation world. No one knows where he comes from, his age nor his goal. The few people who have caught sight of him all report the same vision: a small human clad in plain, black clothes with a sword on his back and a dizi hanging from his waist. His appearance is pleasing to the eye and he carries himself with the power and confidence of a leader. He is a warrior. His most trusted person is a deadly ghost. It's a beautiful and awe-inspiring sight, the witnesses all agree on.

One thing is for sure: no one can stop this forgotten existence.

He watches over the mountain of bones with severe eyes. This place is his home. He made it so once, surrounded by eyes full of pain and distress. He pushed his way through the hopelessness for the chance of survival—for the chance that that child could grow up and see the world for the marvelous place it is one day.

He failed. He failed, yet no one remembers it. Not even time itself knows what he did, what they did to him, losing its powers to the whims of a selfish human.

He does not know who was responsible for it. He doesn't know who was foolish enough to trample on the laws of nature and reserve time as they pleased. Who could be so stupid as to believe that not being recognized would stop him from grow and become powerful as he once was.

He doesn't know yet, but he will. One day, he'll find out the one behind this mess he calls life and then he'll understand. He'll have his peace.

My fate isn't yours to decide, he swore on that fateful day. I make my own path. And if no one will stand with me, then I'll let go of everyone.

It's the best compromise he could come up with. But still, he cannot simply stand by and watch as everyone he once loved and cared for—some of which he still does—dies one after the other. This is not who he is.

To do the impossible also means standing for what's right regardless of how slim the odds are.

He turns around. ZhiRuo is a ghost; she does not need to sleep. But, for some reason, she seems to enjoy indulging herself in this illusion. He feels glad he is able to provide this moment of reprieve for her. She deserves it, for her life was nothing short of a nightmare.

He is grateful for having met her. She was a guiding light in this vicious world of his. Her presence grounds him to the present when nothing else feels real. He wants her to stay with him forever. He knows he'll have to say farewell one day. Maybe. Hopefully, not any time soon.

He does not know what he'll do if he loses anyone anymore.

It is a strange thought. It is almost funny, considering that death is an old friend at this point. He smiles, and leans against the cold, hard walls of his cave. Layers upon layers of incantations and protective spells are painted over the stone.

He closes his eyes, and dreams of a past that does not exist anymore, when he still had a history and a story to call his own, as painful as it had been.

They were his.

Death is a strange thing. One moment, you're there, alive, real. Then, you become something that cannot be touched, something no one can truly understand, but not any less real. You become a memory in the minds of those who live on, who pray that your soul may rest in peace and your name never be forgotten. Sometimes, their wishes become true; most times, however, there are too many things keeping your soul from finding rest and you linger in the world as a shadow of yourself, desperate for relief yet unable to ask for it.

Wei Ying met many of those lost shadows in the Burial Mounds. He met ghosts whose only request was some company, fierce corpses too far gone into their resentment to be able to think clearly, living corpses stuck in the fantasy of being alive. He learned not to judge them, for it's not their fault for ending this way. No matter what crime they committed in life, they already paid for it with their death—how could he deny them the help they need to move on?

A relationship with the dead born out of mutual understanding, respect and the fleeting agreement to help each other: that is the true form of the ghost path.

He doesn't know how things went so wrong that his cultivation was mistaken for demonic cultivation. Was there anything else he could have done? Should he have been more open about it, tried to explain a little more? Should he have accepted those who wanted to learn? Would that have prevented this outcome?

"You're only the son of a servant!"

Wei Ying lets out a long held breath. Jin ZiXun is wrong about many things, but this once he said something true. Who would listen to the son of a servant? Who would spare him the benefit of doubt? Who would see him for his strength and potential, as an equal deserving of being heard?

The answer is only one: no. Yu-furen never did. Jiang-shushu never truly made the effort either. The other Clans had no reason to care about him. Not even Jin ZiXuan gave him a chance.

It makes Wei Ying's blood boil. He really never stood a chance, huh? Never... No matter how good he was, how strong he was, how right he was; in the end nothing of it mattered! They all looked down on him, crushed every chance he still had, took away Wen Qing and Wen Ning and Shijie—

Is there anything left for him?

"Xian-gege." Wei Ying looks up from his bloody hand. A-Yuan stands a few steps away from him. He looks so small, so fragile, so young. His eyes are full of fear and tears. "Xian-gege," he calls again, and his voice cracks down.

Wei Ying's throat feels dry. He glances at the array he drew with his own blood. The cuts on his wrists are still dripping a little, staining the black fabric of his robes with red. In the middle of the array, suspended by a series of chains, is the Yin Hu Fu.

Uncle Four confirmed the news that a siege will come for him tonight. He doesn't know how much more time he still has before they arrive, if he has any time at all. It's already been three months, only barely enough for his core-less body to heal the most grievous wounds. He knows this level of healing won't be enough to save him. There's no way he'll survive this. But he also knows the power of his creation.

The Yin Hu Fu needs to be destroyed.

He wonders how the others are, if A-Yuan found his way into the cave. Wei Ying saw the looks in their faces when he returned, wounded and barely conscious, from Nightless City. He knows nothing in the world will heal the pain in their hearts, not now, not ever.

Their time is running out.

Wei Ying takes in a sharp breath. He rubs his hands on his tattered sleeves to get them cleaner. It doesn't work. He knows it's the best he can do right now. He reaches for A-Yuan and picks the kid in his arms. A-Yuan's arms immediately wrap around Wei Ying's neck. He's trembling.

"Do you want to play a game, little one?" he asks in a shaky whisper. Wei Ying still feels pain, both from recent wounds and phantom pains of scars that healed long ago. The whips on his back, the stab on his stomach, the core that is no more...

"Play what?" A-Yuan asks, his voice small, wary, tired.

Wei Ying hurries his steps. He goes to one of the nearest tents. There's not much there. Wei Ying still manages to find a water bottle and some pieces of hardened bread. It's not nearly enough for a full meal, much less to last a small child for an unknown period of time.

He purses his lips. Wei Ying wishes he could set out to find more, if only to give A-Yuan some time, a fighting chance, but he knows there'll be nothing to be found. No one tended to the little farm they made here. At this point, the lingering resentful energy deep within the lands must have already ruined everything.

He wraps the small amount of food in a dirty robe he found there. Wei Ying forces his feet to move out of the tent again. He starts descending the mountain. He didn't choose any particular direction but, had he been in a better state of mind, Wei Ying would realize he's facing the direction of Gusu.

"Hide and seek." A-Yuan blinks up at him, probably surprised that he got an answer at all. Wei Ying's heart aches for this small, quiet, too good kid. "Everyone will hide at different places. And a lot of people will come to seek us."

"So Xian-gege will hide too?"

Wei Ying swallows. He wishes hiding would solve all of it. He forces a smile. "Yes. Popo, Uncle Four, they'll all hide too. Since you're our baby, I'm going to help you."

A-Yuan hums. He looks around them. They're in a forest-like terrain. The trees are all crooked and devoid of leaves. A-Yuan doesn't fear them, though. He's far more scared of the skeleton hands who pop out of the soil with their vegetables in their hands, a harvesting shortcut Wen Qing complained countless times about.

And yet she never stopped him the next time.

"What if they find me?" A-Yuan asks.

Wei Ying's heart skips a very painful beat. "They won't. You can't let them. Not even if they come very close, even if you think they saw you. You can't come out, okay?"

"So... A-Yuan stays hidden forever?"

"I—What? Oh, no, of course not. You just—Don't let any stranger carrying a sword find you. You can only come out for the people you know... Like Popo, or one of your uncles and aunties." Wei Ying's eyes focus on a particular tree. It's large enough, with a hole under its exposed, intertwining roots that's just big enough to hide a toddler. With the darkness of the skeleton of a forest serving as an extra cover, it makes for the perfect hiding spot.

"Uncle Ning too?" Ah. It hurts. It hurts so much more than anything Wei Ying could think of. "And Aunt Qing?" Wei Ying nods weakly. This... This is better. That way A-Yuan will obey and stay put. "Angry-gege?"

Wei Ying pauses, unable to recall who Angry-gege might be. Then he remembers. And he shakes his head, tears burning his eyes.

More than anyone, Jiang Cheng cannot find A-Yuan.

"And Rich-gege?" A-Yuan's voice wavers the tiniest bit.

Wei Ying bends down to settle A-Yuan in the tiny hole. He almost trips on nothing at the mention of Lan Z—of Lan WangJi.

Wei Ying doesn't remember much of what happened at Nightless City, and he doesn't know the extent of Lan WangJi's involvement in it. For all he knows, he could very well be preparing to attack them too... But, no matter what, Wei Ying refuses to believe it.

Lan WangJi may not have always taken the best actions, but he's virtuous and righteous. He knows A-Yuan, he knows the Wen remnants are innocent. He once knelt and took punishment on Wei Ying's side. There's no way—He wouldn't—!

"If it's him," Wei Ying whispers, "you can let him find you." Even in the shadows, A-Yuan's smile lightens up Wei Ying's dark world. "There'll be scary sounds. Don't be afraid of them. It's all—part of our game. Okay? Everything is going to be fine."

"Okay!" A-Yuan hugs Wei Ying's hand. "I love you, Xian-gege."

Wei Ying's voice is no more than a whisper. "I love you too."

It hurts to leave A-Yuan behind, to stand up and go back to a place where he knows only death awaits him. How he'll go, he doesn't know. He doesn't care, either. Why would he, when he knows the method won't change the fact that he's gone?

Wei Ying glances at a faraway cliff facing the Burial Mounds. He remembers when Wen Chao pushed him down the sword. "After I die, I'll definitely become a ferocious ghost and haunt the Qishan Wen Clan day and night, cursing all of you!" It's almost strange to think of the words he said on that day. That anger, the desire for revenge, for anything—they're all foreign to the Wei Ying of now.

Perhaps it's because he's been fighting for so long already. Wei Ying is tired, far too tired to wish for any of those things. What ferocious ghost? All he wants is to finally rest, rest and find some peace, rest and hope next life will be better, for him, for his family, the people he loves and swore to protect, who he'll die to protect.

"Wei-gongzi."

Wei Ying raises his head. Fifty or so people stand between him and his cave. Their faces carry varying degrees of sadness, resignation, guilt and grief. And still, the moment their eyes meet Wei Ying's, he can also see the warmth of love, the light of gratitude.

Granny takes some steps forward. Her fingers shake as she takes Wei Ying's in her hands. Her gray robes are dirty and tattered at the ends, the fabric almost as rough as a gunny sack. And yet, she smiles at him. "Thank you."

"Thank you... And I'm sorry."

Uncle Four once said that Wen Qing was the one who took after her grandmother the most, even more than her parents. Wei Ying can finally see how right Uncle Four was.

"There, there." Granny pats his head. Wei Ying blinks against her clothes. He doesn't know when he moved, nor when she hugged him. But, this embrace, he needed it so much. "Such a good child... Your parents must be so proud of you."

His parents... Wei Ying can barely remember what they were like. All he knows is that they loved each other very much and loved him even more. He wishes he could've heard more stories of them, stories from people that were close to them. He wishes he could've given them a proper burial and prayed to their tablets. He wishes they had tablets to their names.

It's too late now, isn't it? He'll never hear about them again, just as he'll never know how they'd feel about the man he became.

Too late now.

A large hand lands on his shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze. It's Uncle Four. "Do what you must. We'll gain you time."

I don't want you to do that, Wei Ying thinks, but doesn't find it in himself to say out loud. Instead, "A-Yuan..."

"He's safe," Aunt Two says in a soft voice. She smiles at him, too, lines of exhaustion clear on her face. "We saw you, Wei-gongzi... Thank you."

Wei Ying nods. He stands up slowly. He doesn't know what else he can say, what else he should say. To say goodbye doesn't feel right. It'll feel too real, too—"We'll go first, Wei-gongzi."

With those last words, the Wen remnants leave him. Wei Ying watches their retreating backs until they disappear in the darkness. He enters his cave. He isn't as careful as he used to be, stepping onto several papers and prototype inventions that he once treasured. He draws a new cut on his wrist, and with the dripping blood he finishes the array.

Jiang-shushu, Shijie. Wei Ying sits in the middle of the array. He whispers a series of incantations under his breath.

Wen Qing, Wen Ning. Waves of resentful energy wash upon him. They're more merciless than usual, certainly because of the Yin Hu Fu's influence. That thing truly is evil: it refuses to be destroyed so easily.

A-Niang, A-Die. Distant, familiar sounds reach him. Sounds of battle, of screams and righteous roars. Wei Ying forms a hand seal as those thunderous footsteps draw closer.

Death really is a strange thing. One moment, he is alive. And then... He's just a memory.

He was just a memory... And then the entire world changed.

Chapter 2

Chapter by HikariNoHimeWriter

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Wen Ning has learned not to complain about things. Complaining won't change the hearts of those around him, nor will it make his life easier. Negativity generates more negativity, and hatred generates more hatred. It's a vicious cycle that he has no wish in perpetuating.

It doesn't mean he isn't hurting.

Every day spent at Nightless City is a day Wen Ning wishes he could erase from his memory forever. Between Wen-er-gongzi's personality, the other disciples' distaste for Wen Ning and the increasingly complicated political atmosphere in the Clan, Wen Ning finds it hard to breathe. He feels like everything is happening at once and there is nothing he can do to make things better.

He is powerless, useless, incapable of speaking properly. And yet he insists on staying at this place that makes him nothing short of miserable, all with one simple goal in mind.

He wants to be here for his sister.

Even though Wen Qing can be harsh at times, Wen Ning knows it stems from genuine concern. She's scared of what the world might do with her soft-hearted brother, and so she tries her best to teach him better. It doesn't work, of course. You can't change a person's nature with words alone.

Wen Ning knows there's not much he can do to help her. His medical skills are lacking, and his cultivation isn't high enough to provide her any kind of safety. He's not well-versed enough in politics to help her with Wen-zongzhu either. The only thing he can realistically do is keep her company for however long she needs to stay in this heavens-forsaken land.

It's not enough. It's not even close to being enough. But he'll give it his all.

"A-Jie?" He knocks on the door to Wen Qing's tiny office. It's far enough from the main family's quarters that they rarely appear here, a much welcome reprieve they both need and are grateful for. "I brought your tea."

"Come in." Wen Qing's voice sounds muffled through the door. Wen Ning pushes it open and closes it again behind him. His sister sighs. "You didn't have to, A-Ning."

Wen Qing is, once again, surrounded by scrolls and books and papers both new and old. Her hands are smudged with ink and her hair a complete disarray. Wen Ning knows that she'll take her time fixing her appearance before leaving the room, unwilling to let anyone but Wen Ning see her in this unkempt state.

It warms his heart a little, this little sign of love and trust.

He sets the tray on a side table. Wen Ning would rather not risk spilling anything on those papers. "Y-You've been working hard since morning. A break will do well to your health."

The aroma of green tea fills the room as Wen Ning pours a cup for his sister. Wen Qing accepts it with a small, grateful smile. He smiles in return, letting his gaze linger over one of the books.

"Is t-this for Wen-zongzhu?" he asks in curiosity.

Wen Qing follows his gaze. She shakes her head. "Not this one, no. It's... A personal research."

She motions for him to take a seat. Wen Ning promptly obeys, taking a better look at the book's content. What at first glance looks like a children's tale quickly turns into something else, a story which echoes Wen Ning heard countless times over the last years.

"The nameless child?" he glances at her. Wen Ning puts the book down when she nods. "I didn't know you were interested in this story."

"Kind of." Wen Qing takes a sip of her tea. She fixes her posture, looking a little more energized after drinking some of it. "It is not in the story that I am interested in, but in the child's identity."

Wen Ning watches her. Wen Qing is still the hard-working, gentle, compassionate Wen Ning knew since he was born. However, he can tell that something is amiss. The exhaustion in Wen Qing's eyes is different from what it was some years ago. Wen Ning isn't sure if it's his mind playing tricks on him, if his perspective simply changed as he grew up and Wen Qing showed more of her true colors around him.

Still. Something isn't exactly right. He can't tell what it is, but he knows it greatly weighs down on Wen Qing.

If only he could do something to help ease this burden...

"I-I can h-help if you want!" he offers promptly. Wen Qing blinks at him. Wen Ning continues, "I have more f-free time and no one else would notice if I went absent for some periods at a time. I can help you i-investigate."

Wen Qing doesn't reply right away, but Wen Ning can still see something crumble in her gaze. A wall of defense falling into nothingness. She blinks rapidly, and nods shakily. "If you can... Thank you, A-Ning."

Maybe one day she'll tell Wen Ning why this is so important for her. Until that day comes, he'll do his best for her.

Their first encounter comes with the last snowfall.

The storm wasn't the worst Lan Zhan experienced in the Night Hunts he participated in, but it was strong enough he decided to err on the side of caution and book a room for the night. The inn isn't big by any means, with no more than a handful of rooms available for guests. With the storm, the owner decided to put two guests in each room. Her reasoning was such that she can offer shelter to more people like this. Lan Zhan does not argue with her, for there's no proof for his suspicions yet.

The room she led him to is located on the far end of the corridor. The room is cramped and small, with two beds and a low table that Lan Zhan supposes is meant for meals. The door creaks when he opens it, and the floorboards are dark and covered in dust.

A shiver runs through his body. The innkeeper closes the door behind him, shutting closed his only way out.

A second person blocks the passage of the window.

It is a boy clad in black. His hair falls loose and his cheeks are dusted red from the cold. His right foot rests on the window frame, while the left dangles outside. A sword leans against the wall right within his arm reach. He plays with a dizi between his fingers, twirling it with surprising expertise. His eyes look almost black when he looks at Lan Zhan.

The boy's eyes widen slightly. A flurry of emotions flashes in his eyes, too fast and complex for Lan Zhan to fully understand them.

"Oh, my." He smiles. That smile looks wrong on his face. "If I had known Lan-er-gongzi would be my roommate for the night I'd have done some cleaning myself."

Lan Zhan's fingers twitch slightly at those words, hidden under the length of his sleeve. The boy doesn't show fear as most people do, only a sense of distant respect—courteous yet casual enough not to sound forced. A perfectly acceptable behavior from a cultivator of the same generation.

He hates it. Just as the smile plastered on the boy's face, it feels wrong. Lan Zhan does not know why he feels this way. He couldn't begin to explain what would feel right even if he wanted.

He doesn't know this boy. He knows nothing. It is maddening. It is infuriating.

The boy points at the bed closer to the door. "That one went unused for a longer time than this one. It's definitely not dust-free, but at least the sheets haven't been used yet."

Lan Zhan's brows raise slightly. He doubts the boy can tell the difference. Only xiongzhang could tell, after all. "How do you know?"

"I've been here for three days and you're my first roommate." The boy taps his dizi against his shoulder. "I specifically requested the innkeeper not allow any non-cultivators here."

"Why not?" Lan Zhan's muscles tense slightly at the boy's words. He discreetly glances around.

"Because," the boy tilts his head to the low table, "her presence could hurt them."

Lan Zhan's gaze falls on the table. He didn't notice anything amiss before, but now he can see it: a translucent woman leaning heavily against the table. Her expression looks pained and her image changes every so often. Sometimes, she's an elegant woman with luxurious pink robes and a flower-shaped bun. Others, she's dressed in simple sleeping clothes, hair loose and blood flowing down her eyes and mouth. And then, her mouth parts to reveal several rolls of sharp black teeth, her empty sockets and ragged clothes hiding nothing of the horror she faced at the moment of death.

His throat goes dry. Lan Zhan has seen many ghosts and corpses in his life, each with their own scars and horrendous wounds. Seeing this woman and the clear agony on her face still makes his breath catch in his throat and a twisted sense of horror settle in his stomach.

His eyes whip back to the boy. He's still looking at the ghost. The smile is nowhere to be seen, replaced by quiet resignation and a sense of regret. When he speaks again, his voice is just tired.

"ZhiRuo's not usually this unstable. She can control her own resentment surprisingly well given the circumstance. But we're close to the place she died and no one found her body to give her a proper burial. She doesn't have a strong enough goal to keep her grounded, either. And with the snowstorm keeping me here, it's just... A very unfortunate situation."

Lan Zhan glances at the ghost woman again. She is barely visible now, like a flame about to go out.

"Are you trying to help her find her body?" Proper burials are essential for a soul to find peace. If that is not possible, granting their last wishes is the best alternative. If the ghost's attachments to the world are too strong and start affecting the lives of humans, extermination is the last solution.

"We're traveling buds. ZhiRuo here saved my life when I needed and has been with me ever since." The boy smiles again, and this time it's full of affection. "She never hurt anyone, nor does she want revenge or anything. So... Why not just let her be? It's nice to have someone to talk to, anyway."

Lan Zhan blinks. Of all things he could've imagined, this answer isn't it. He was taught to suppress and eliminate. Never once has the possibility of just letting them be crossed his mind. To hear it from another cultivator, one so close to his own age, then, feels all sorts of strange.

He presses his lips into a thin line. "Keeping the undead for company will be bad for your heart and mind."

Resentful energy is dangerous. Without exception, all those who were exposed to it in the long run found terrible fates. To take an unstable ghost as a companion is inviting disaster to his life.

The boy hums contemplatively. He shakes his head. "Perhaps it would, if I was coreless without any other means to protect yourself and lacks emotional stability and support. Resentful energy is just energy. It can only do harm to those unprotected and weaker than it. Otherwise no cultivator would be able to keep their sanity after fighting monsters for so long."

He jumps down from the window. His hand instinctively reaches for the sword. He presses it to chest. Lan Zhan notices the bell hanging from the tassel: it is undoubtedly a Yunmeng Jiang bell.

"But of course orthodox cultivators wouldn't be able to tell the difference." He picks a talisman from his robes and puts it on the table. It burns with a green light. ZhiRuo's image becomes a little more solid once again. "There'll never be true change and renovation because you refuse them. You nip them at the bud without even giving a chance, without stopping to hear and understand... It's no wonder the Wen Clan got so powerful."

ZhiRuo raises her head. Her image still flicks between the elegant and the hurt woman from time to time, but she now looks stable enough to keep the most inhuman appearance at bay. Lan Zhan wonders if the talisman is the reason behind the change.

When the boy turns around again, his face is back to that smile that unnerved Lan Zhan. "I apologize. I spoke too much, and it's not like you're to blame for the faults of your world." He sighs. "But I will not change my path for the sake of anyone but myself. And, as of now, there's been no harm whatsoever."

Lan Zhan doesn't answer. He has no idea what to say. Everything sounds wrong to him, but Lan Zhan can't explain why beyond the fact that it's the opposite of what he was taught. He can't verify the boy's words, if he's right to say that there's never been different circumstances to prove the opposite.

They've only been together in this room for a few minutes, and yet Lan Zhan feels like the very foundations of his life were shaken to the core.

He swallows, and bows. "I apologize as well. I overstepped your boundaries."

The boy freezes. Then, he laughs. It echoes loud and clear and so alive Lan Zhan shivers at its sound. It tickles something deep in his heart, reaching for a memory that doesn't exist. It's a strange feeling. He doesn't know what to make of it. But this boy's laugh—it's precious.

"What is gongzi's name?" he asks, realizing that at no point did the boy introduce himself.

"Who knows?" The boy shrugs. It looks strange when he's still hugging the sword. The act looks almost involuntary. "My name was forgotten and it's not my place to tell."

Once again, Lan Zhan doesn't know what to say. He can tell that there is a story behind this boy's response and attitude, but he can't pry. It is not his place to pry. He already overstepped once. Doing so again would just be rude.

"Now, now, er-gongzi, it's getting late. I'm sure you don't want to skip your curfew. Oh, but the innkeeper only gives morning meals. You won't get anything to eat now." The boy sits on the bed near the window.

The bed is a mess of outer robes and sheets. He makes himself comfortable, falling on the mattress with a plop and a pleased groan. He sounds nothing like the person who just lectured Lan Zhan on the intricacies of demonic cultivation.

Lan Zhan sits down on the other bed. He carefully sets Bichen and Wangji down before removing his boots. He glances at ZhiRuo. Somehow, at some point, she laid her head on the table and fell asleep. Lan Zhan didn't know ghosts could sleep at all. His gaze returns to the nameless boy. "About your cultivation method, can you tell me?"

The boy blinks at him. He looks shocked. "You... Want to know?"

"You made solid points." Lan Zhan shifts until he is kneeling on the mattress. "I want to understand, so I can improve."

"Oh." The boy scratches his neck. "That's... Not what I was expecting. But it's good! Very good! Definitely worthy of Han—of Lan-er-gongzi!"

Lan Zhan doesn't miss the slip of tongue. He does not question it, though, instead letting himself get immersed in the boy's explanations. It is not demonic cultivation, but the ghostly path that he walks. It is a cultivation method based on mutual trust between living and dead, with the potential to free souls from their suffering or causing immeasurably damage depending on the user.

"I will not teach it to anyone," he says with striking certainty. "Humans are volatile creatures. I do not want my cultivation and my creations to be used for harm. And the only way I can guarantee it won't is keeping it to myself."

"You're a good person," Lan Zhan exhales softly.

The boy shakes his head with a slight smile. "Trust me, I'm not. This is just the bare minimum." Lan Zhan doesn't point out that, for some people, the bare minimum is unachievable. "Well, do you believe me now?"

Lan Zhan pauses, gathering his thoughts on the matter. "I need more information to draw a conclusion."

"So you'll do your research." The boy nods. "That really is good. Not taking anyone's words at face value and striving to learn the truth by yourself is something honorable. I didn't know—" He cuts himself off, a small, bitter smile on his face. "—I'm happy to learn this is how you really are, Lan-er-gongzi."

Lan Zhan parts his lips, but suddenly he feels a weight settle on his shoulder. His eyes feel heavy and his consciousness starts to slip away from him. He's not on a hunt. He's safe in an inn room with a strange boy and a sleeping ghost. There's no immediate danger nor any need for him to fight his body.

And so he lies on the bed. He doesn't remove his clothes for he doesn't feel comfortable doing so in front of a woman, dead and asleep as she may be.

"Goodnight, er-gege."

In the haze of sleepiness, Lan Zhan can only hum in response, unable to think deeper about the sudden change of address or the yearning painting the boy's smile.

Lan Zhan wakes up again at five, as usual. The snowstorm has long since stopped. The nameless boy and his companion are nowhere to be seen. On the low table only a small note and a bowl of porridge.

Thank you for yesterday. I hope you may get the answers you need and become the man you want to be, Lan-er-gongzi.

Do not worry, ZhiRuo guided me through the cooking. I promise it's not spicy... Not too much, at least!

My deepest regards.

P.S.: Don't you think bunnies are cute?

Lan Zhan's eyes narrow at the last sentence. He resists the urge to crumple the paper and throw it away. Instead, he folds it and carefully tucks it away.

"Ridiculous."

Luo QingYang has better things to do than pay attention to gossip.

Her status as a servant already limits the amount of training she can do every day between house chores and running errands for her masters. Her being a girl only cements the notion that there's no use taking her seriously. It doesn't matter how many successful female cultivators there are out there, how powerful they are and how much they enrich their Clans, in the end, for them, a woman will always be a woman. And what good is a woman if not to serve their spouse and raise children?

It's infuriating.

Still, she keeps her head down. Obedience is her best asset now. Even if just a little, staying quiet and submissive allows her to learn, and that knowledge will one day convert into power—power to speak her mind and achieve her goals. Power to be free from the shackles of class and gender.

Power to find her own happiness.

A groan escapes her lips. Luo QingYang is used to carrying heavy weight. It's just another part of her everyday duties, even if today's laundry is far heavier than usual. She can make it work. All she needs to do is see this as part of her training. How can she defeat fierce corpses if she can't carry this much weight on her own?

Yeah, that's right. She can do it. Luo QingYang isn't that weak... But it truly wouldn't be bad to have someone's help.

She swallows, and shifts her grip on the laundry basket. It doesn't do much to help with wrist pain, but she does feel she has a firmer hold now. It'll be a little easier like this. Now all she needs to do is walk around this rock and—

Luo QingYang stops dead in her tracks.

On the other side of the rocks is a boy perhaps one or two years older than her. The boy's clothes are black from head to toe. His boots are steeped in dry mud and his face is covered in grime and sweat and something that looks like blood. He's crouching on the ground, his lips moving as he whispers quietly.

It's what he is whispering to that shocks her to the core.

Luo QingYang has seen corpses before, but never like this, not in this advanced state of decomposition. A right, bony hand is the only thing she can see from the corpse; it projects itself from the ground, as though it reached out just to answer this boy's call.

The corpse's index finger points to the North. The boy smiles his thanks, and all at once that hand disappears back into the ground.

Steel-like eyes meet Luo QingYang's.

"Oh. I didn't see you there." The boy stands up. He dusts off his right shoulder. It doesn't help at all, with his hands dirtier than the fabric itself. "I hope my lil' friend here didn't scare you."

Friend. That's how the boy refers to that skeletal hand. Luo QingYang stares at him as though he's grown a second and third heads.

"You were talking to that..." She bites her lip, not knowing how to word her thoughts without being too offensive. Whoever is buried under there clearly has its own will. Luo QingYang doesn't want to risk attracting the dead's fury.

"Yep. You see, I've never really been to this region before and got a little lost. I was expecting to get something useful out of my friend down here but, well, the deceased have their limits too." The boy laughs, loud and unrestrained, as though the thought of conversing with the dead is nothing more than an amusement trip.

Luo QingYang takes another look at the boy. What she thought to be laziness and lack of care at first is actually the result of traveling. She heard of the snowstorm that hit the region of Moling a few days ago, followed by days of heavy rain around Lanling. If the boy came from those regions, it explains the mud and the grime. The boy also carries a sword on his back. Luo QingYang's eyes zeroin on the bell attached to it.

"You're a cultivator from Yunmeng Jiang?" The question escapes her before she can think better about it.

The boy opens his mouth to answer, then freezes. Something sad and equally dark flashes on his face before he settles back on a smile. He shakes his head. "The bell belonged to my father, but he died a rogue cultivator."

Luo QingYang regrets asking. "I'm sorry."

"C'mon, it's okay! You didn't know. No one does, actually. But then I never told anyone and—oh, is that heavy? Your hands are shaking, jiejie! Here, lemme help you!"

She stands, dumbfounded, as the boy takes the basket out of hands with ease. His hands are way bigger than hers, callused and full of scars. One of them oddly resembles the shape of a dog bite. Luo QingYang glances at her own hands, deathly pale with two scarlet lines where the basket's weight pressured the skin. They are shaking, but not from the effort.

"Still," she says, "I'm sorry." Then, as an afterthought, "Thank you."

"Don't mention it! Where are you going? I'll accompany you," he offers kindly.

"There's a river down the road. It's the best spot to wash and get washed." She points in the direction of a line of tall trees. If she wanted, she could have headed the opposite direction where the river is just a few dozen meters from the Clan's grounds. However, this place allows her privacy to work and a break from the incessant advances of her shixiongs. "There are big fishes too, but I never managed to catch one."

"Free bath and free meal. What an awesome deal!" The boy's eyes sparkle with mirth. He walks by Luo QingYang's side, close but always at a respectful distance. "Are you a cultivator too?"

"I'm trying to be, but..." She trails off.

"It's hard when all they see is the child of a servant." The way he utters those words makes Luo QingYang think he speaks from experience. She glances at him, but all she sees is a rogue cultivator walking with the elegance and confidence of a prominent young master. "They make it harder to get anywhere, control your resources and time, and when you do show progress they get offended that someone below their station is so daring as to be successful."

Luo QingYang's eyes widen. "Yes! That's exactly it! They act like the world owes them but woe is me if I call them on their bullshit. A woman who can think for herself? Must be stupid!"

The boy bursts into laughter. "And don't forget the arrogant part. It's essential!" He shakes his head again. Luo QingYang wonders if he even notices what he's doing, if this habit is too deeply-ingrained in his life that it became an unconscious thing. "And the worst is that they're not even that strong. Without their numbers they're nothing."

"And the money," Luo QingYang adds. "Numbers, money and power are all that matters to them."

"And that'll be their ruin."

A chill runs down her spine at the ominous words. She swallows, unsure what to say to that. She can more or less imagine what the boy is referring to. The Qishan Wen Clan grows more powerful by the day. There's been word that they started assimilating vassal Clans one after another, taking away their numbers, weaponry, treasures and even their names. Everything about it speaks of an imminent disaster, yet no one will do anything to change things and stop them.

Luo QingYang wonders if there will still be a cultivation world by the time she gains a sword of her own or if they'll already be doomed to live in the shadows of Qishan Wen's world.

"Y'know, there are a lot of quick ways to train your cultivation while doing other things, like work or fooling around." The boy steps into the lines of trees. He doesn't seem bothered by the elevated roots and rocks despite the heavy weight he is carrying. "I can teach you, if you want."

Luo QingYang wants that very much.

They spend hours just chatting away. The boy tells her how to turn any activity into different forms of meditation and thus increase her cultivation. It's not easy at first, but once she gets the hang of it she feels like an entire new world opened itself before her. The monotonous task of washing off clothes gains a new purpose and her very soul is filled with newfound motivation.

The boy takes his bath—very far away from where Luo QingYang works, yet close enough to be able to talk—and takes his time catching as many fishes as he wants. He starts a fire with a talisman and works into preparing a meal. The smell of crisp fish and cooked vegetables eventually make Luo QingYang's stomach rumble.

"Come and eat with me," the boy invites her. Luo QingYang doesn't think twice before accepting. "I only feel bad I don't have any spices on me. It's too bland for my tastes."

"It tastes perfect for me." Perhaps she should've expected that a young master traveling alone would be a good cook as well. It always comes as a surprise for her that any man is good at house chores at all, though. "Do you do this every day?"

"What, cooking? Not really. Too much energy to spend when you're always moving. I eat fruits and edible plants most days instead. Sometimes I don't find any either, so inedia is always an option too." He shrugs. Luo QingYang can't help but be impressed that he's already at the stage of practicing inedia at will. "Oh, right. Take these."

He slips two talismans towards her. Luo QingYang doesn't recognize either of them. They're probably reserved for stronger cultivators, or maybe they spend too much spiritual power to use and so her master never taught his disciples.

"Neither of those," the boy says through a smug smile. "I made them myself."

Luo QingYang stares at him. "You... Invented them?" The boy nods. She wonders what in heavens the Clans are thinking to let such a genius go unnoticed. "What do they do?"

"This one was inspired by my greatest grievance against qiankun pouches. What's the use of unlimited storage if the weight doesn't change? So I made a spell to make them weigh no more than their containers. If you sew this pattern into a qiankun pouch, no matter what you're carrying, it'll only ever weigh the normal amount of a pouch. Slap a talisman like this on, say, a basket full of heavy clothes and all you'll carry is the weight of an empty basket."

Her eyes widen at the talisman. If she thought it impressive before, now all she can see is a treasure she'll protect with her life.

The boy moves on to the second talisman. "This one is more like a sentinel. Pour some spiritual energy into it and you'll feel the moment any living being trespasses an area of ten meters around the talisman. I use it for when I need to sleep out at night but, well, thought it could come in handy for you."

He doesn't say the words, but Luo QingYang understands. This is a form of protection for herself. She'll never be caught off-guard by men and ill-intentioned people ever again.

"Thank you, gongzi." She holds the talismans close to her chest. Luo QingYang wishes there was anything she could do to help this boy. To return the kindness he showed her. Then, she remembers: "Where are you heading to?"

"Hm? Oh! I heard there's a village to the East of Qishan facing trouble with an airborne abyss. I wanted to go and check it out to see if I could do anything to help them but, well, I can't find the village for the life of me." He sighs.

"Don't you mean a waterborne abyss?" Luo QingYang tilts her head in curiosity. She puts down her empty bowl. The food was truly good.

"Oh, right, that's not common knowledge. My bad, haha!" He scratches the back of his head humorously. "There are many kinds of abyssal monsters in the world. The definition of 'abyss' to cultivation is literally 'nature elements that develop sentience after being steeped in resentful energy for enough time'. Waterborne abysses are indeed more common and easy to take form, but they're not the only kind of abysses out there. Like landborne and fireborne abysses, to name a few."

"And airborne abysses?"

"Yep." The boy grimaces. "Those are the worst. Most start as landborne abysses, but then evolve to airborne abysses if there's enough wind. Like the edge of a windy cliff, or an eternally snowy mountain. The thing is, unlike the others, airborne abysses aren't tied to one place as the strength of the wind tends to, uh, destroy the corpses that formed them in the first place. So exposition and purification aren't really an option. A real nuisance, if you ask me."

Luo QingYang blinks. That's more information than her master gave her the entire month, and some useful knowledge at that. "So... Since it's not tied to a place and the corpses are mostly destroyed, it would look like a persistent windstorm...?"

"Indeed! The storm might be accompanied by strange objects falling from the sky, too. If the abyss is strong enough, it could take the form of a hurricane." The boy's smile looks unbelievably proud, like a teacher seeing his student surpass his expectations.

Luo QingYang's feels a strange sense of pride at that. She nods. "If it's a storm you're looking for, there's been a bad one happening at Yueyang. I remember a request for help from Chang-zongzhu arrived a few days ago. They're running out of supplies to provide for the affected villages. At first they thought it was an extension of the storm that hit Moling and Lanling, but there wasn't rain nor snow there. Here, lend me a paper and I'll draw a map for you."

She is not an artist by any means of the word, but Luo QingYang knows it doesn't look that bad. It's good enough for a seasoned traveler to make do.

The boy smiles at her. "Many thanks, jiejie!"

"Just call me by my name," she says. It feels wrong to be addressed that way when she's sure she's younger than this boy. "I'm Luo QingYang."

"Luo-guniang it is, then." The boy starts to put his things away in a series of different qiankun pouches. The amount of them would have shocked her if she didn't know that his are, in fact, way more practical than most. "I'm sure a strong girl like you will be more than alright by yourself."

"You're right about that." Luo QingYang stands up. She glances at the sky; they're maybe an hour or two away from sunset now. "You'll be on your way now?"

"Mn. I'd like to try finding a good inn if I can. Sleeping on a bed is always best." He checks the ground one last time. "Alright. Thanks for the company, Luo-guniang."

"Ah." Luo QingYang swallows. The boy's gaze feels heavy on her. "Stay safe. The abyss... It sounds dangerous. And—" She closes her eyes, a small amount of embarrassment filling her. "—if you ever need help, remember you have a friend here."

The boy pauses. Luo QingYang can't discern the emotions in those steel-like eyes. When he smiles at her, it's a small, grateful, but sad smile.

"I will."

A few weeks later, news of the end of the windstorm at Yueyang reaches her Clan. Everyone thanks the heavens for sparring the Yueyang Chang Clan from that torment. Luo QingYang knows they only have a lonely boy in black to thank for this miracle. She doesn't question why. She doesn't find it in herself to doubt. She simply knows.

Luo QingYang doesn't hear about the boy again.

Many people believe Lotus Pier to be at its prime when the lotuses are in full bloom. Jiang YanLi likes the scenery more just a week before it.

She can't really explain it. There's just something in the budding flowers that draw her in. Maybe it's the promise of a beautiful future, as short-lived as it may be. Maybe it's the way the scenery is slowly changing and moving away from the harshness of winter. Maybe—Maybe it's the fact that she is like those flowers.

She's the daughter of a powerful Clan Leader, yet unable to cultivate as one. She is pretty, but lacking the sharp beauty of her mother. She's good at communicating, but struggles to make others listen. She has a way of deescalating arguments, yet she can't solve the root of the issue.

And what does she have in this life? A loving father who's as distant as an old dream. A mother who cares about her future but never fails to make her feel inadequate. The perfect fiancé who despises her. A young brother who takes her love at convenience. No matter what, she can never have everything. It all comes in halves, and often the upsides can't make it up for the downsides.

Jiang YanLi was born full of beautiful promises, but they all went unfulfilled.

Will she ever find happiness like this...?

She does not know. It scares her to no end, but what can she do if not smile through the problems and make the best out of her situation?

Smile, smile, smile no matter how fake and one day maybe she, too, will believe it.

She makes her way to the training grounds, a smile on her face and a tray of steaming buns on her hands. She can't do much to help her shidis but she can at least help them sate their hunger through Shifu's training. Cooking, at least, is one skill she can take pride in.

Jiang YanLi finds them near the training dummies. All but one are sitting on the ground, exhibiting clear signs of exhaustion and thirst and just lack of motivation. Only A-Cheng remains standing, training sword in his hand and a murderous look on his face.

A shiver runs down Jiang YanLi's spine.

"I brought some food," she announces. Her shidis let out exclamations of surprise and gratitude. Jiang YanLi smiles at them. "Now, now, be careful. I don't want you to get burned."

"Yes, shijie!"

"You're the best!"

"Wow, this is so good!"

"Did you have a good day?"

"Ouch!"

Jiang YanLi chuckles. "See, I told you to be careful." She turns towards A-Cheng. He didn't move at all since she came. A sense of uneasiness settles in her stomach. "Won't you eat some too, A-Cheng?"

There's no answer. Second Shidi's eyes dart nervously between Jiang YanLi and A-Cheng. "You see, shijie... Yu-furen passed by earlier to see how training was going. She and Shifu discussed the matter of our courtesy names."

"Oh." Jiang YanLi understands it now, the fury in A-Cheng's eyes.

As per the tradition, disciples receive their courtesy name at the age of fifteen. The only Clan that has a different naming tradition is the Jin Clan, who makes use of generational names given at birth. Usually, disciples also get their first sword upon receiving a courtesy name. This stood true for Jiang YanLi's father and most of the prominent Clan Leaders and disciples.

However, a disciple might get their sword earlier if they're powerful and skillful enough. Jiang YanLi heard rumors of Lan-er-gongzi receiving his famous sword, Bichen, as young as thirteen years of age. He is perhaps the youngest to achieve the right to a sword, and the most promising disciple of the current generation.

Though Jiang YanLi has no way of measuring it herself, she assumes that Jiang Cheng must be powerful too, as the Head Disciple and heir of their Clan. A-Cheng expressed his wishes of getting his own sword and being allowed out on solo Night Hunts for several years now.

From the look on his face and the hesitancy in their shidis' faces, Shifu must have denied it.

Jiang YanLi can only imagine how A-Niang is, now. She never hid her discontentment with Shifu's teaching methods, insisting that he isn't good enough and that he must be the reason why A-Cheng can't reach his full potential. If she had things her way, the Yunmeng Jiang sword style would be taught not by a cultivator born and raised at Lotus Pier, but by one from Meishan Yu.

This incident must have reignited A-Niang's fury. Jiang YanLi wonders if A-Die has already returned from his trip to Gusu. She doesn't know if it would be better to have him here or not.

Nonsense, a small voice in the back of her mind whispers, like anyone can make things better.

If only there was someone who could appease A-Cheng and A-Niang's fury and keep their A-Die close. Someone who could look at Jiang YanLi, with all her imperfections and inadequacies, and find something to truly and wholeheartedly love. Maybe things would be better, then.

Jiang YanLi berates herself for her own thoughts.

How could she think of such a thing? Even if just for a moment—dragging someone into the mess they call a family will only bring harm to that person. Be it from A-Cheng's mood or A-Niang's anger or A-Die's absence, there's no way they could live a peaceful life. And Jiang YanLi knows there's not much she could have done for them. She has no power in her hands to protect anyone, not even herself.

It's a losing battle.

"Shidi," she calls, her voice soft and steady despite the contradicting emotions in her chest. "I'll leave these with you. Make sure to give them to A-Cheng when he gets hungry, okay?"

"Of course." Third Shidi takes the tray from her hands.

"I don't need them!" A-Cheng's scathing voice echoes in the training ground with the force of a thunderstorm. "If you have nothing good to do here, just leave! We don't need any weaklings around!"

Jiang YanLi closes her eyes; they burn with tears that she refuses to let fall. She knows that A-Cheng says things he doesn't mean sometimes. He is like A-Niang in this aspect: both say whatever they know will hurt the most in moments of anger. Perhaps they don't truly believe it. Maybe it's really, really just a means to an end.

It still hurts to be on the receiving end of those words.

"I'm sorry." That whisper is a weak little thing. She smiles at her shidis. She hates to see the worried looks on their faces. "And you, just do your best, okay?"

If Jiang YanLi runs back to her room, no one makes notice of it, not because they do not care enough.

They simply don't have the heart to.

There is something magical about returning to Yiling that the boy cannot fully explain. Perhaps it's the fact that he has so many memories from that place, both in childhood and what little of adulthood he had, and then childhood again. It's strange to think of the sequence of events like this, but he really has no other way to describe it.

He stretches his tired limbs. The sun is already setting and the sky is a beautiful work of golden, orange and red tones. His fingers itch to grab a pencil and paint it down. He wonders how much of this scene he'd be able to capture with black ink alone. Or perhaps he should try a colored painting? He's not sure if there's any that would adhere to paper well. Maybe he could try to create one instead? It would be a fun endeavor for sure.

"You should rest first, baobao," ZhiRuo admonishes gently. "You still haven't recovered from dealing with the airborne abyss completely."

"I know, I know."

It had, in fact, been more of an ordeal than he expected. It took him days to find the core of the abyss—or what he likes to think as the eye of the storm—and then weeks more to peel away layers upon layers of resentment until the abyss collapsed in itself. All while keeping a strong barrier around himself against the airborne abyss' maddened attacks and staying vigilant of any human unlucky enough to approach the area.

It was exhausting, but a learning opportunity. This knowledge will certainly become useful in the future. Maybe...

He stops in his tracks. ZhiRuo stops with him. Her brows are furrowed and her voice full of worry when she speaks, "What's wrong?"

There's no answer. He can't. Not now, not when he can see the two people on the roadside. They're far enough their conversation is no more than muffled whispers to his ears, yet close enough for him to see them clearly. White and crimson robes with the sun crest embroidered on their sleeves, a distinct lack of weapons to be seen, two faces strikingly similar yet guarding completely different personalities.

They look over a scroll. Or maybe a map. They're not from this region, so it wouldn't be strange if they were just lost. They are cultivators, but won't do as much as carry swords with them, devoted to their path as they are.

There are no words to describe what he's feeling now. There is no way he can explain how and why his very heart breaks a little more at the sight of them.

"Baobao?" ZhiRuo's voice sounds distant.

The boy takes a step back. He can't—he needs to get out of here, to get away from them before, before they—

A branch breaks under his boot. Two equally dark eyes snap towards him. He doesn't look back at them. He can't go through this, not again, not when he was already so close to breaking down that first time.

That day...

Wei Ying, Wei WuXian, the Yiling Patriarch—so many names for a person who should be dead. And he died that night. A horribly painful, lonesome death that he carved with his own two hands. A death which place and time he chose by himself. He perished not under the hands of his enemies, but for the sake of his vision for a better future.

A future where the Yin Hu Fu no longer exists.

He chose his death. He was content with it. No matter how many regrets in his heart, Wei Ying found solace in the fact that he fought for what is right until the very end, unlike the crowd that screamed righteousness at the foot of his mountain only to carry on the slaughter of people who could barely stand.

He was content with his ending.

And yet.

And yet he is alive when he shouldn't be, in a child's body that shouldn't be his, staring at a person that shouldn't be here.

He can't remember anymore what he was doing. He woke up in a little dirty alleyway without a single clue as to what was happening. Maybe he was searching for clues? Understanding the situation is helpful at all times, after all, especially when you don't know when nor where you are.

He got distracted somewhere along the way, lost in the memories that only Yiling could bring him. In his distraction, he ran into someone. An honest, silly mistake. Something Wei Ying would've never done in his previous life.

Distraction equals death when the entire world is against you.

Wei Ying expected an angry, disgusted scowl from the stranger he bumped into. It's what happened to street urchins, and this body is certainly that of a homeless orphan. When he looked up, an apology sitting on the tip of his tongue, what he found was a familiar, gentle if a little dumbfounded face.

His heart skipped a painful beat at the sight of this man. He looks so much younger than Wei Ying remembers, with several years of tension and stress and unhappiness taken off his shoulder. The purple hues of his robes are striking against the dirty brown landscapes of Yiling town. His looks at Wei Ying with eyes full of recognition.

Wei Ying's voice is a weak little thing. So shaky under the weight of shock of being alive, of being here, of seeing him again. "Jiang—"

"Jiang-zongzhu!"

"A-Die!"

Jiang FengMian looks towards the source of those voices. He exchanges some words with them, but Wei Ying can't hear them. His focus is on Jiang FengMian's face, the way light hits his eyes and makes them shine with life, the relaxation on his shoulders that Wei Ying only ever saw when they were alone and away from Lotus Pier and Yu-furen's rage.

When Jiang FengMian, Jiang-shushu looks back at him, his eyes are filled with a sense of confused kindness. However, there's no recognition in his eyes anymore, as though it was washed away by a dense fog.

"I apologize for this," he says, extending his right hand to help Wei Ying stand up. "Did I hurt you?"

Wei Ying can't answer. His voice won't come, no matter how much he wants and tries. Jiang-shushu kneels on the ground and hooks both hands under Wei Ying's arms. His touch is gentle enough not to inflict further harm to the many wounds Wei Ying already has all over him.

Jiang-shushu steps back a moment later. Wei Ying unconsciously reaches out for him, for the warmth and familiarity he came to associate with this man over the years.

"A-Die, you promised you'd spend the day with me!" A boy latches onto Jiang-shushu's waist. His face is round with baby fat and his eyes big and sharp. A really charming child if only you can ignore the scowl on his face. "What are you doing with this rat?!"

A shudder runs down Wei Ying's body at the sight of him. It's a strange feeling. It shouldn't have been like this. Jiang-shushu had hopes they'd be like brothers in all but blood when he brought Wei Ying back to Lotus Pier in the past. The world makes a little less sense with every passing second. They grew up as friends, despite the differences.

But now Wei Ying can barely think of Jiang Cheng's name and not feel like something irrevocably broke. Jiang Cheng turned his back on Wei Ying when he needed it the most. He led the siege that may have killed the baby Wei Ying wished to save. He feels hurt. Betrayed. Angry. And, at the same time, he feels nothing at all.

That's right. Wei Ying can see it now. Nothing is exactly what he owes Jiang Cheng, and way more than Jiang Cheng deserves.

"A-Cheng!" Jiang-shushu scolds right away. There's a shadow in his eyes. It's not anger. It's something darker, colder, and all the more terrifying in the face of a Clan Leader. "How many times do I have to tell you to—"

"Can we go home now?" Jiang Cheng replies. "You didn't find what you're looking for, right? There's no reason in continuing here. Or anywhere. You promised you wouldn't waste your time anymore."

Jiang-shushu's expression turns complicated. He doesn't offer resistance when Jiang Cheng starts pulling him away even if everything about him screams of how much he does not wish to go.

Wei Ying's breath catches at his throat. He takes a step forward, and another, and another, and suddenly stops. He extends his hand, all five fingers outstretched. He can see Jiang Cheng and Jiang-shushu through them, small figures drawn apart by Wei Ying's longest finger. Jiang-shushu glances back at him one last time. He doesn't come back.

Wei Ying blinks through the tears. His eyes fall to his wrist, bare to see now that the ragged sleeve slipped down. There's a scar right over the bone, a half-crescent that looks all too familiar.

This scar is Wei Ying's. And this place... This is the past of a future that doesn't exist anymore. He'll never grow up at Lotus Pier. He won't taste Shijie's soup or shoot kites with his shidis.

Jiang-shushu will never hold him and tell him the name he had forgotten.

That day, a nameless child was born from the scream of a despaired soul.

The encounter with Jiang-shushu five years ago left him broken inside. He couldn't move on from what that represented, this timeline he doesn't belong nor fit in. He wandered for days, weeks, months without a clear destination. He didn't care for himself. He didn't even try to stay alive. Maybe, dying again wouldn't be too bad. At least he'd be able to rest for once and all.

But ZhiRuo wouldn't let him.

From the moment he left Yiling, she had been with him. She took care of him the way she wished she could do for her own child. She fed him and kept him warm. And slow but surely, she guided him to the place that changed everything.

Without ZhiRuo, he'd have died once more without ever finding out what happened to his parents. He wouldn't have his father's sword on his back nor his mother's dizi on his sash. He would have found no will nor desire to live.

"G-Gongzi?" That voice is soft and gentle to the ears, yet filled to the brim with incomparable anxiety. The boy can't look at Wen Ning's face, but he's sure it's still full of that melancholic beauty that made the tragedy of his ending even more heartbreaking.

The boy turns around. He can run. He should run. He needs to get away from here, always from them, away from the heartbreak of having yet another loved one not recognize him.

He barely survived that day with Jiang-shushu. Seeing Shijie again a year ago was almost too much. Meeting Lan WangJi—Lan Zhan in that inn was equal parts painful and hopeful.

But the Wen siblings are different. They're two of the people he gave everything he had to save, yet was unable to do anything as they walked towards their deaths. All because of him, because they thought there was a chance their sacrifice would spare his life.

They were his family. His real family, one built on shared goals and affection instead of duty and debts.

They were everything he had.

And yet—

"The strongest man in the world, yet couldn't remember to buy all the items in the grocery list for the life of him."

He freezes. That voice sounds so much younger than he remembers, full of life but also despair. The words come one after the other, almost tripping on themselves. Urgency. It's urgency that makes this refined, strong woman lose her composure like this.

"Buried kids on the ground but somehow it only made them love him even more. Fearless in the face of death, a scared child in the face of a dog."

He picks on the hem of his sleeve. It's long enough to cover his scars. A secret about him only ZhiRuo knew in this lifetime. Something only she should have known.

Wen Qing continues, her voice sounding closer to him and closer to tears. "Made a promise no man should have been able to fulfill, gave up everything he had to make it happen and ultimately lost his life for the sake of that selfish request."

He trembles. His gaze is cast down, fixated on the small flowers blooming on the roadside. A pair of crimson boots appears in his field of vision. They look distinguishably blurred.

"Sought justice for the world, only had death and betrayal in return. Had another chance to live freely yet still strives to help those who need." A hand, long and thin, touches his face. It's warm against his skin, each finger pad rough and callused from grinding herbs and wielding needles. "I've searched for you for so long. It's you, right? It's you—"

His eyes finally meet the woman's tearful eyes. Those eyes are exactly from the Wen Qing in his memories: humble yet proud, gentle yet fierce, loving yet powerful. His Wen Qing, Qing-jie, who looked at him and saw family.

Thank you... And I'm sorry.

"—Wei Ying."

On that day, the nameless child recovered his name and a forgotten existence was finally remembered.

Notes:

Good things always come :D Next chapter will be up soon, probably in the next hour, and all the 3 remaining ones in sequence \o/

Again, please give lots of love to Baph for helping me edit and for the amazing art! I still crying seeing this scene illustrated, they're so good!

Chapter 3

Chapter by HikariNoHimeWriter

Notes:

A small warning: this chapter has graphic descriptions of wounds and the start of discussions surrounding life-long disability. Not all of it is positive (given the nature of cultivation and their society) but I at least tried to handle with utmost care.

Chapter Text

Cloud Recesses is a beautiful place. A small piece of paradise hidden among the clouds, where no worldly worries are able to reach. Everything about this place speaks of centuries of tradition, from the ancestral building to the disciple roaming around, quiet and mindful of the thousands of rules engraved to the wall of the mountain.

Just seeing this place makes Jiang Cheng want to puke.

The Lan Clan loves to brag about their righteousness and sense of justice, yet they're nothing more than a bunch of cowards hiding from the world. And then there's Lan WangJi, always acting so mighty and noble as though he's better than all of them.

As if. Lan WangJi is never there when it matters the most. He evades Discussion Conferences and other events without a care for politics and his own reputation. He won't even attend classes with them, claiming to be more advanced in his studies.

Bullshit, Jiang Cheng says, and an outrageous show of discourtesy towards other Young Masters at that. But of course no one will call the Lan Clan out for their behavior. No one has what it takes to make it happen.

Only A-Niang would.

Jiang Cheng exhales softly. That's right. He can only count on A-Niang to know things better. She's the only one who understands him and is willing to fight for his sake. Not even A-Jie would go so far for him. No, she's weak too. Far too weak to stand up for herself, imagine Jiang Cheng.

He glances at the disciples around him. Weak. All of them, weak. All they know to do is pretend nothing is wrong and that they're all the same. More than half would die if someone were to attack this place today. They're weak like that.

They are not the same.

Jiang Cheng is better than that. He'll never bow his head for another. He is strong enough to survive and thrive. His hand will be the one to wield Zidian one day and carry out his A-Niang's will. He'll be the greatest Clan Leader Yunmeng Jiang will ever see.

No one can compare to him. No one can be better than him. In this world—In this world, he is the one to rise above and make the impossible happen.

"Jiang-xiong," Nie HuaiSang calls in a small, meek voice. "Lan-xiansheng will definitely give us a test when he comes back. Can't you help me study? I promise I'll repay the favor with the best alcohol in Gusu!"

Hmph. As if Jiang Cheng needs the gratitude of good for nothing to get Emperor's Smile. He doesn't depend on anyone to get what he wants. He's above this kind of nonsense.

"Stop wasting my time," he hisses back.

Nie HuaiSang flinches at his tone. No matter. Jiang Cheng does not need him, anyway. Despite being the heir of the Nie Clan, acting friendly with Nie HuaiSang brings no advantage politically or otherwise. That kind of power is all in Nie-zongzhu's hands. Nie-zongzhu, maybe, would be someone worth entertaining. He is currently the youngest Clan Leader and therefore the easier one to approach based on age. He is powerful in more ways than just one. Establishing a good relationship with him would be beneficial to the Jiang Clan as a whole.

Unfortunately, the only one who can be called close to Nie-zongzhu is ZeWu-Jun. Jiang Cheng still hadn't had the chance to meet him since his studies at Cloud Recesses began, but he doubts there's much worth in the guy either. He is too similar to Lan WangJi for Jiang Cheng's liking.

It's simply not worth the hassle.

Jiang Cheng walks towards his room. His speed barely passes as a fast walk, leaning way closer to a slow sprint instead. And running is against the rules.

Ha! How much more ridiculous can this Clan get? Next thing they know, breathing will be forbidden as well. It is no wonder they're in such a bad position in relation to the other Clans. Too proud of their restraints, too cowardly to take action. Jiang Cheng puts a hand over his mouth. No one is there to watch the way his expression shifts from mild annoyance to a manic grin.

Cloud Recesses could burn for all he cares. This thought fills his heart every passing day. When he crosses paths with disciples in white, when he hears Lan QiRen's voice, and especially when he sees Lan WangJi—Jiang Cheng's only regret is not having the opportunity to set this place on fire himself.

But there is nothing to worry about. No one can escape the clutches of karma. This Clan will have what's coming to it. And so will all the others. All of them but Yunmeng Jiang. His Clan will thrive where none else will. Jiang Cheng knows it will. He is stronger than they all are, after all, and he has a powerful ally in A-Niang.

This very world will be theirs to take.

On the opposite end of the pavilion, people in white walk in hurried steps and gloomy expressions. Lan WangJi is among them, and so is ZeWu-Jun. They have many worries in their hands.

Jiang Cheng looks away. This, too, is not worth his attention.

Caiyi Town is a small community built around rivers. Most of its population is made of fishermen, and the rest of the town's income comes from their varied offers of fruits, clothes and inns. Its location in relation to Gusu—and, consequently, to Cloud Recesses—makes Caiyi Town a good choice when it comes to resting during travels.

In truth, Lan XiChen has only visited the place himself a handful of times; most of them were on the way to Night Hunts. He isn't very familiar with their way of living beyond surface level and his knowledge on their geography isn't the best either. The only thing he knows for certain is that Biling Lake is essential to these people, and the river Caiyi Town was built around of leads directly to Qishan.

Biling Lake is the reason they came all the way here.

A few days ago, an urgent request from the leader of Caiyi Town reached Cloud Recesses. The appearance of water ghouls have increased dramatically over the past weeks, leading to several incidents and raising panic within the population. To make matters worse, Biling Lake is currently inaccessible to the common people. In the request letter's exact words, a monster has appeared.

Without Shufu around, it fell on their elders' shoulders to decide on the best approach to handle this matter. After some deliberation, they decided that Lan XiChen would take a number of disciples to survey and make a proper assessment of the situation in Caiyi Town.

WangJi's presence is most unsurprising. He always offers help where he can. The requests the elders reject, WangJi takes them upon himself to fulfill to the best of his ability. His actions were what brought him fame and respect, far more than his name could bring.

Lan XiChen glances at his little brother. WangJi walks beside him without a word. The other disciples have split up to gather information with the townspeople—and, more important than that, to find boats they can use to reach Biling Lake. Having his brother at his side makes Lan XiChen feel at ease. WangJi's always been with him since young, an irreplaceable part of his life that Lan XiChen loves and cherishes the most.

"Lan-er-gongzi!" A voice calls out. Lan XiChen doesn't recognize it, but something changes in WangJi's expression at the sound of it. "My, today keeps getting better!"

It takes a moment before Lan XiChen finds the source of the voice. It's a boy that looks no older than fourteen or fifteen. He's dressed in all black, hair tied into a messy high ponytail. He carries a sword on his back, and a dizi tucked on his sash. His smile is nothing short of dazzling and his very presence exudes an immense power.

"So it is you." WangJi relaxes more at the sight of him. He looks almost... "Where is your companion?"

"Waiting in the forest. ZhiRuo doesn't go near towns and cities most of the time, y'know, for obvious reasons." The boy laughs. It's a happy, delighted little thing. "She'll be happy you asked. I'm sure you two would be good friends."

WangJi doesn't answer to that. The boy doesn't seem to mind. Lan XiChen clears his throat. "I take it you know each other?"

"Ah, apologies, ZeWu-Jun! I didn't notice you there." Again, a cheeky grin that hides none of the boy's joy and mirth. "We met once a year ago. Lan-er-gongzi makes for an excellent companion."

Lan XiChen doesn't know what to say. He has never met anyone who would say that about WangJi, and he especially didn't expect it from a stranger who looks and acts as the polar opposite of WangJi.

"Are you night hunting?" WangJi asks.

"Yep!" The boy holds his hands behind his back. "I wanna test if my new technique is efficient or not, but my big friend is fast to run away. I almost cornered it a number of times all the way from Qishan but it escaped every one of them. A pain in the ass, if you ask me."

The boy clicks his tongue. Lan XiChen purses his lips, trying not to let the crass words affect him too much. Had this been Cloud Recesses and Shufu was the one hearing it, Lan XiChen has no doubt the boy would be made to copy rules for it. Maybe WangJi would do it himself, but the WangJi in front of him doesn't show any signs of discontentment.

"Your prey is here," WangJi says, "lying in Biling Lake."

"Indeed! I'm hoping it'll be my biggest catch. I take it you also came for it? Or maybe it was the water ghouls that tipped you off?" The boy doesn't wait for an answer, continuing: "Whatever it is, it's good that you're here. You guys from Gusu Lan are good at creating barriers. Very handy."

"Do you know what's causing this?" Lan XiChen interjects. Something about the way the boy speaks, the way he treats their Clan's presence as no more than a convenience infuriates him.

"Of course I do. But I want to know what you two think of it first. For curiosity's sake, if you will." He turns around. Something catches his attention. "Oh! My order just arrived. Mind accompanying me to my table? We can talk more."

In truth, Lan XiChen doesn't want to. But he knows how valuable information can be and WangJi already agreed to it. He follows them to the boy's table, covered in a varied selection of dishes, drinks and desserts. The boy picks one of them without hesitation. WangJi takes the seat across from him. Lan XiChen sits on the boy's left.

"Feel free to eat if you want. I think I overdid it when I placed the order." The boy pointedly pushes a bowl full of steamed buns towards WangJi. It's the only dish not covered in spicy red.

"Are you eating well?" WangJi asks instead. There's a slight crease between his brows.

"I am, really! ZhiRuo is always nagging me to eat three times a day." Again, this name emerges in their conversation. Lan XiChen wonders exactly who this ZhiRuo person is. "It's just usually simple meals I can make out in the wild. Nothing as exquisite and good-tasting as a restaurant's cuisine. But enough about my eating habits! Tell me your thoughts, er-gongzi."

"Mn." WangJi doesn't make any mention of accepting the food offer. He looks down, deep in thought. "Caiyi Town is built around rivers and lakes. There should not be many drowning cases nearby. The water ghouls must've come from somewhere else." He glances at the boy. "Scared off by your prey on the run."

Lan XiChen watches as a delighted grin breaks out on the boy's face. He claps his hand, eyes shining with pure joy. "Excellent! Lan-er-gongzi really never disappoints!" He puts down his now empty soup bowl. His face is smeared with grease. "That's correct. The water ghouls are mostly from Moling. You must have heard about the flooding of six years ago."

"I heard about it," WangJi confirms. Lan XiChen heard about it too. An entire village was wiped out by the storms of that year. "Water ghouls don't leave their death place often and there were no new victims since then, so the Clans didn't see a reason to intervene."

"There was no one to pay for their services and so they did nothing, you mean." There's a certain sharpness in the boy's voice that doesn't escape Lan XiChen. He looks like a rogue cultivator. Does he hold resentment against the cultivation world as a whole? "No one cares about the travelers and merchants caught up in this mess, or the lives affected by the loss of resources caused by the incident."

WangJi's shoulders tense slightly. He lowers his head. "I apologize."

The boy's eyes widen. "Oh, no, no, no, no! I know you're not like that. You care about them! You just didn't know, right? Please, it feels wrong to have you apologize like that, er-gege!"

Lan XiChen can't help but flinch at the sudden change of address. He isn't sure what WangJi's relationship with this young master is. They seem close and to enjoy each other's company, but from the boy's words this is just the second time they have met.

The boy—"I'm afraid I still don't know your name, gongzi."

"Apologies, ZeWu-Jun, but I do not wish to tell you that." He turns his attention back to WangJi. There's not a single hint of remorse on his face for his rudeness. "Back to the topic. There are some scattered groups from Yueyang and Yingchuan among the water ghouls, as well. Not only that, but creatures living near the riverbeds also ran away. It was quite the hassle keeping them away from villages, to be honest."

"So that's why you couldn't catch your prey. They kept you busy," WangJi concludes. Lan XiChen doesn't understand how WangJi can accept this as a fact so easily. Even if this young master did try, would he really be able to slay all of those creatures and keep chasing at the same time? "Is the creature you're chasing a waterborne abyss?"

"You really are something else, Lan WangJi." The boy's expression softens. A shiver runs down Lan XiChen's spine. "That's right. I've been hunting abysses for years now. An airborne abyss in Yueyang, a landborne abyss in Kuizhou and a fireborne abyss in Laoling. Each of them more troublesome than the last."

Lan XiChen remembers the windstorms that hit Yueyang last year, and the wildfire that burned along the edges of Laoling some months ago. According to the reports, they were natural events, if catastrophically persistent. Both cases started losing force a couple of weeks in, and completely vanished few days after.

There was nothing more to them. The Clans in charge made declarations of it and are bound to present recovery plans during the Discussion Conference of Qinghe. And yet this boy who came out of nowhere and acts strangely close to WangJi claims to have slayed monsters that aren't even recorded in the books.

"Can it be killed?" WangJi asks. Lan XiChen's hands close into fists under his sleeves.

"Of course not. You'd need years of sun exposure and purifying rituals to effectively kill an abyss. No matter what kind." The boy shakes his head. He puts another bowl down. Lan XiChen didn't notice it, but more than half of the food is gone by now. "But all abysses have one thing in common: they're made of the souls and resentment of their victims. Hundreds, sometimes thousands of souls woven tightly into the core of the monster we call the abyss..." He trails off then.

WangJi's eyes narrow slightly. He nods, understanding filling his eyes. "I understand it now. We will help you."

The boy's smile couldn't be any brighter.

Lan XiChen remains silent, lost in the exchange these seemingly like-minded individuals just carried. He doesn't trust the boy, and he finds it hard to believe his words, but he does believe WangJi. His little brother does not trust people easily, always keeping them at an arm's length and unwilling to reveal his feelings.

If WangJi trusts this boy... Then Lan XiChen can only support him, too.

Biling Lake is way bigger than Lan WangJi expected it to be. It is located in the middle of a series of forest-covered hills, with only connection to Caiyi Town being the river on the Western side. On the opposite side of the lake, another, smaller river can be seen winding through the hills, possibly heading towards the ocean.

"It's too big to run away through the other side," his companion says. "And it's exhausted from the travel. I was surprised it managed to get all the way here, to be honest. Our friend down there is truly massive in size. Moving around like that must have been hard on it."

"Why call it 'friend'?" he asks. It is something Lan WangJi wondered for a long time now. He can understand, in part, why the boy's view of such creatures would differ from theirs due to his cultivation method, but the notion of calling a waterborne abyss a friend is... Strange, to say the least.

"Well." The boy smiles at him, unbothered by the question. If anything, he seems to appreciate it. "It has killed people. Many people. But, before that, they were just a number of tormented souls that only wished to have rest and instead turned into a monster. It is not their fault that no one was there to give them proper burials and disperse their resentment. I feel like, if I deny those souls even this last bit of sympathy, then I'll be no better than a monster myself."

Lan WangJi glances at the lake. The waters are still and peaceful, dark green reflecting the sunlight. He can see disciples in white and blue scattered around the edges of the lake, each of them preparing a piece of a spell. Lan WangJi knows they won't be able to hear nor see him and his companion from where they stand, with the trees of one of the hills serving as coverage.

He still does not understand what the boy means, but he supposes there is not much he can do about it. However, this does not seem to affect the boy's goal of getting rid of the abyss. There is no harm done, to himself or to others. It is good enough.

The boy breaks the silence that fell between them. "Wei Ying."

Lan WangJi blinks at him. He can only see his back now. The bell tied to his sword chimes with every step. Lan WangJi wonders if he does it for ZhiRuo's sake, so she will know where to find him. The image of her empty, bloody eyes that night flashes before his eyes.

He inhales, understanding falling on his face. "Is that your name?"

The boy, Wei Ying nods. His hair sways behind his back. "A precious someone remembered me, so I can tell you now." His voice softens at the mention of that precious someone. Whoever that person may be, their very existence clearly means a lot to Wei Ying. "My father was Wei ChangZe, of Yunmeng, and my mother CangSe-sanren, disciple of BaoShan-sanren."

Lan WangJi has heard stories about those people. They were part of his Shufu's generation and gained fame—and infamy—when they turned their backs on the cultivation Clans to get married and travel as rogue cultivators together. Lan WangJi doesn't know how they died, but he remembers the solemn look in Shufu's eyes that day. Perhaps it was regret, or maybe it was disapproval.

He also recalls rumors that Jiang-zongzhu spent years searching for someone only to give up years later without explanation or reason. Lan WangJi never thought too deeply into it, but now he can't help but wonder if Jiang-zongzhu was aware of Wei Ying's existence. And, if so, why did he stop searching? If only he didn't give up, maybe Wei Ying wouldn't have to live like this, dancing around the cultivation world without a place he can truly fit into. He would have a home to go back to, and the safety of a Major Clan's name behind him.

He thinks of the distinct lack of activity from the nameless child in Yunmeng's area from the very start. He can't help but wonder.

"Hey, Lan Zhan," Wei Ying calls again after a while. Lan WangJi pushes those thoughts to the back of his mind. He should not pry; Wei Ying will tell him if he wishes to. "I was thinking... I'll stay in Gusu for some time. So, maybe, if you want to Night Hunt together..."

Lan WangJi pauses at the offer. His mind and heart are completely at odds with his normal behavior and, he knows, it's all because of Wei Ying.

He wants to learn more about him, about his world, his convictions and beliefs. He wants to know where Wei Ying will stand at the end of his journey and whether his heart will remain the same. Lan WangJi wants to be there with him and see all of it for himself. He wants to be by Wei Ying's side and save him—

Save Wei Ying from what?

An unpleasant shiver shakes his body. He feels as though he's standing on the edge of a cliff. The answers he seeks are on the bottom of the precipice, an abyss darker than the darkest resentment. If Lan WangJi were to jump, he would have those answers all for himself.

But something stops him from doing so. It is not by his own will, nor the underlying fear he cannot fully let go of. No, it's something he cannot control, a power greater than he is. It is an invisible force he has no way to fight against.

Lan WangJi hates this.

Instead of voicing those contradictory thoughts, "I would like to."

Wei Ying looks at him. The smile on his face is nothing short of dazzling. Lan WangJi averts his gaze. Wei Ying's smile is powerful. It is dangerous. Lan WangJi doesn't understand why it makes his heart beat so fast. It scares him a little, this strange feeling of his.

"Here we are! This spot is perfect. You did a great job, ZhiRuo!"

Lan WangJi raises his gaze at Wei Ying's words. They're standing in the middle of a clearing. ZhiRuo half-stands, half-floats a few steps ahead of them. Her image is clearer today, the face of a gorgeous woman dressed in fine clothes. Her smile is soft and pleasing to the eye, and her eyes remain closed when she turns towards them.

"Is that another friend of yours, baobao?" she asks Wei Ying.

"Good question." Wei Ying laughs. He unsheathes his sword. The blade looks dull and lifeless, with a dark gray Lan WangJi never saw on a spiritual sword before. The edge must have been deadly sharp one day, but now it's full of small cracks and an utter inability to cut anything. Wei Ying starts drawing on the ground. "Are we close enough to be friends, Lan Zhan?"

Are they? Lan WangJi doesn't know. They've only met twice, but Lan WangJi feels like they've known each other for years. Wei Ying makes him feel in ways no quasi-strangers should. He wants to be with him. It is scary and intriguing at the same time.

"Not yet, not enough," he decides.

The implication of his words makes Wei Ying laugh out loud. "Good, very good. I'll work hard, then!"

ZhiRuo turns her head towards Lan WangJi, giving him an elegant bow. "My name is Wang ZhiRuo. I shall count on you to keep him safe, gongzi."

Lan WangJi returns the bow with one of his own. "Lan WangJi of Gusu. I will try, Wang-furen."

"Your friends are all so polite, baobao. This gongzi, Wen-guniang and Wen-gongzi. You always attract the nicest people." ZhiRuo's smile turns pleased.

Lan WangJi blinks. Wei Ying explains, "Wen Qing and her younger brother, Wen Ning. They're from a branch family of physicians. They help save and cure people everywhere they can. Good people and good friends."

He heard of Wen-guniang. Her expertise gained her fame from a young age. Lan WangJi never met her himself, mostly because he avoids going near Qishan if he has the choice. He doesn't doubt Wei Ying's judgment of them. They really must be good people if Wei Ying trusts them.

"Baobao got so flustered when a traveler suggested that he and Wen-guniang would make a beautiful couple together. It was amusing to hear," ZhiRuo adds.

"That! Qing-jie and Wen Ning are like my siblings, of course that would sound wrong." Wei Ying pointedly does not look at either of them. He finishes drawing the array, or rather the chain of arrays he was working on. Lan WangJi doesn't recognize most of them. Just looking at them makes something unpleasant crawl up his spine; they must have to do with Wei Ying's ghostly path. "Right. I'm ready to go any time now. Do your disciples know what to do?"

"I relayed your instructions. They are in position."

His Gusu Lan's disciples are in charge of erecting a barrier around Biling Lake. This barrier is meant to keep the waterborne abyss from attempting to escape or destroy the nearby terrain. At the same time, a second barrier will be raised half a li away to keep common people and stray cultivators away from the area. Xiongzhang will coordinate the two barriers with another senior disciple.

Wei Ying is to stay at a chosen spot between the two barriers, where he's close enough to act if the waterborne abyss gets out of control but far enough he can focus on dispersing it instead of protecting himself. Lan WangJi is here to act as an additional layer of protection should the first barrier fall. ZhiRuo's here for the same purpose.

They didn't explain exactly how he will take the waterborne abyss down to the others. Not many would take to his cultivation method as well as Lan WangJi did, and they certainly wouldn't take part in this plan if they knew. Instead, Lan WangJi fears, they would attempt to take him away for cleansing and punishment. It is exactly what happened to all demonic cultivators in the past, just as Wei Ying said that night.

But the ghost path is different. Of that, Lan WangJi is sure.

"Good." Wei Ying sits down in the middle of the arrays. He bites his thumb, and blood drips onto one of the lines drawn on the ground. A moment later, crimson fills all the arrays, a menacing, flickering light. "Once I start, I cannot stop. Be prepared for that."

Lan WangJi hums. He takes a flare signal from his sleeve. He is aware.

The symbol of Gusu Lan shines on the sky, faint against the sunlight. A barrier forms behind them a moment later, and another in front of them soon appears. One thing differs them from normal barriers: they do not close like a dome, but instead stand as towering walls of light.

Wei Ying picks up his dizi and presses it against his lips. When his eyes meet Lan WangJi's, he winks playfully at him. Music cuts the silent.

It started.

Su She has never seen anything like this. His hands tremble around his sword's hilt from exhaustion and fear alike. He knows he shouldn't look up, that it will do nothing but increase the fear and anxiety shaking his very core.

But he can't. How could he, when the sight in front of him is something no other group of cultivators has ever and will ever be able to see? When he was chosen to be a part of this unimaginable event in the history of cultivator? When this horrific, terrifying, beautiful thing stands right in front of him?

Three days ago, they descended the mountain to deal with water ghouls plaguing Caiyi Town. On the way to Biling Lake, however, Lan-er-gongzi informed them that the plan changed, and they now would exterminate a waterborne abyss with the help of a rogue cultivator.

It was insanity, Su She thought. Even as he helped raise the barrier around the lake, he doubted any of that was true. There was no way a waterborne abyss would be here of all places. And, even if there was one, it is impossible to exterminate them at will. Especially not with just one person.

Then the music started, and Su She's very world shifted on its axis.

He tries to wipe his face on his shoulder. The motion is awkward due to his position, unable to use his hands lest he ends up being the reason the barrier falls. Su She looks up again.

The waterborne abyss is as massive in size as it is powerful. Whirlpools that seem to reach the sky itself roar in fury. They are everything, attacking everywhere they can reach. Several times did the barrier almost fall under the strength of the waterborne abyss' fury. In the middle of it all, the core of the abyss, an amalgamation of human bones in varying stages of decomposition and thick tendrils of resentful energy float in the air. It is terrifyingly big, bigger than their Ancestral Hall.

It is already so much smaller than it was at the start, less than half of the starting size. And, as Su She watches, more and more bones fall from the sky, drained of the resentful energy that kept them tied to the core of the abyss.

A piercing song cuts the air. It did nothing stop for even a moment over the last three days, shrill notes that sound even more terrifying than the waterborne abyss itself. At least part of it, because the one playing the dizi is winning.

Su She wonders where that rogue cultivator came from. How powerful he is, to destroy something everyone believed to be indestructible. He could overtake the entirety of the cultivation world if he wanted and no one would be able to stop him. They are too weak compared to him. Not even the Wen Clan could compare.

He thinks of the stories he heard years ago, of a nameless child that granted wishes wherever he went. A forgotten existence with no ties to Clans and hierarchies and only sought to help wherever he could. Su She wonders, could this be him? This rogue cultivator, could he be the nameless child from the stories, the one who brought fear and frustration to the hearts of many Clan Leaders without as much as having to show his face?

It must be him. Su She doesn't think of anyone who could make something like this happen. Gods all have their own preoccupations to deal with and immortals are secluded in their own mountains and unwilling to descend, after all.

Only a human being would come to save other human beings.

A shout catches Su She's attention. He looks up again only to see something he didn't truly think possible: all at once, the floating bones fall to the lake, lifeless without the resentful energy keeping them together. The whirlpools lose force and momentum. They fall in a giant wave of water, strong enough to wash up the lakefront and almost carry them away. There is no heavy rain anymore. Beyond the hills, they can see the colors of the sunset.

Su She waits with bated breath. A moment later, Gusu Lan's motif burns bright in the sky.

It is done.

Shouts and yells echo through the lake. Disciples in drenched clothes scream their cheers to the heavens above, uncaring for propriety and the rules for just this one moment. They were all part of this. They made something that shouldn't be possible happen. No amount of scolding and punishment can take this pure bliss off their hearts.

A while later, they regroup at Caiyi Town. Everyone's expressions are full of pride and exhaustion. Lan-gongzi looks at them. "There is still much to be done in regards to this matter. Recovering the corpses and conducting proper burials will stop the resentful energy from gathering again and Biling Lake will be safe once more when we finish. But—" He pauses, takes in a breath and smiles a small, tired but happy smile. "—thank you for lending your strength. I will make sure to let our elders know of your contribution. Thank you for working so hard these past days. I hope a night at the inn will help all of us recover our energy."

A collective wave of relief washes over them at the realization that they will not need to fly back to Cloud Recesses right away. Time to rest is what all of them need, and the minimum they deserve.

"But where is that rogue cultivator?" one of the disciples asks.

Su She looks around. Lan-er-gongzi is here, a silent presence by Lan-gongzi's side. However, there is no sign of the rogue cultivator anywhere.

"Wei Ying isn't here." Lan-er-gongzi's voice echoes without the need to raise his voice. "He thanks your efforts, and apologies for leaving."

"Oh," Lan-gongzi says in a light voice. "Will Wei-gongzi be alright, traveling on his own after all that effort?"

"Mn. But... It is 'sanren'."

"I see." Lan-gongzi smiles again. "May Wei-sanren have safe travels, then."

Though the rules of the Lan Clan forbid gossip, they could do nothing to stop this particular story from spreading out inside and outside their Clan's grounds. How could they, when a waterborne abyss was completely vanquished in a matter of days for the first time in history?

The news spread over the cultivation world like wildfire, and the presence of the nameless child who became the nightmare of many Clan Leaders for years only serves to further incite that fire. It only takes two days for the news to reach Lotus Pier, carried on by an intricate network of spies and allies in poor disguise.

Wei-sanren. Wei Ying. The child of CangSe-sanren and Wei ChangZe. That is the name behind the nameless child who stands in the outskirts of the cultivation world, a presence none of them can ignore yet someone they can not grasp no matter how hard they try. For the other Clans, that name will simply make their enemy a human, a real person they can fight against if needed.

For Yunmeng Jiang, that name brings pure storm.

Jiang YanLi looks around the dining hall. On her right, A-Cheng's empty seat. Across the room, A-Niang's untouched food. On the elevated table occupied by A-Die, empty bowls finished in a hurry and left behind in sheer disarray. There is no one else here, not even a shidi to keep her company.

She is alone with the echoes of her parents' shouting voices. A-Die tried to leave fast, to get out of Jiang YanLi's earshot before the fight escalated too badly. He tried so, so hard, and it was all for nothing. A-Niang would never spare her the pain. A-Niang only cares about hurting A-Die in whatever way she can, to make him as miserable as humanly possible.

A-Die couldn't even be happy that his friends' lost son is alive and well and thriving somewhere. He is not allowed any happiness, not in this house, where everything is so easily turned against him.

Jiang YanLi can't help him. She can't do anything, not for herself, not for A-Cheng, not for anyone. She is powerless.

Is this why Jin-gongzi hates me?

Jin-gongzi has everything one could wish for. Beauty, power, a good social standing—isn't it only natural that he'd want a wife like him? Someone could rule over his Clan by his side and doesn't need protection. For him, to be with someone like her...

"Shijie!" Third Shidi's voice cuts the silence. Jiang YanLi's head snaps with how fast she turns to look at him, all wide smiles and labored breath, standing at the door of the dining hall. "Your fiancé is here to see you."

Her eyes widen. She didn't hear anything about this visit. A-Niang would have warned her if it was the case. Could Jin-furen want to make a surprise? But Jin-furen is aware of her parents' relationship. She wouldn't bring Jin-gongzi to the middle of a fight and risk worsening his opinion of Lotus Pier and the engagement.

Jiang YanLi puts her bowl down and follows Third Shidi out of the building. The air feels refreshing against her skin, but it does nothing to ease the nauseating feeling deep inside her. Anxiety and uncertainty whirl together and cloud her judgment. Part of her wishes there was someone here, someone who could encourage her and stand by her side.

That person doesn't exist. Jiang YanLi is alone here.

"Jin-gongzi," she greets the man standing just outside the Clan's doors. He looks exhausted. He should have been at Cloud Recesses proceeding with his studies, not here, not looking at Jiang YanLi with eyes that she cannot understand. "I apologize for the lack of reception. If you—"

"No need," he interrupts her. His jaw is set in a hard, tense line. Creases form over the vermilion mark on his forehead. "Come with me."

Jiang YanLi complies without another word. Jin-gongzi didn't seem intent on getting to know Lotus Pier the previous times he came to visit, but he walks with purpose through the streets and alleyways. His ponytail sways from one side to another when he walks; Suihua emanates a dignified glow whenever the sunlight hits it.

Jin-gongzi only stops when they reach the docks. He leads her to one of the boats. Jiang YanLi hesitates.

"Why...?" She closes her mouth, unable to form a coherent sentence.

"Wei Ying," Jin-gongzi says, "he's your father's servant's son, isn't he?"

"Wei ChangZe died a free man," Jiang YanLi corrects him. She can't explain why the word servant bothers her so much. She just knows it can cause harm, and it's enough for her to dislike it.

Jin-gongzi presses his lips in a thin line. His expression is complicated. "Still... I'm sure Yu-furen isn't pleased about this." He is not wrong: A-Niang is furious. Even now, Jiang YanLi feels like she can hear her screams accusing her A-Die of the unimaginable. "I will have to return to Cloud Recesses soon, but I can take you to Lanling Jin Clan, or to Meishan Yu if you prefer."

Jiang YanLi stares at the boat. She could leave. She could go somewhere better, somewhere she's not haunted by her parents' fights and her own loneliness. Reprieve, freedom, time to rest: that's what Jin-gongzi is offering her now.

"I thought you hated me." The words come out in an emotionless voice. Jiang YanLi knows she should not have said them. It is so very rude of her. And yet—she can't stop. "Why do you care now?"

"I know you have no reason to believe me, that I gave you no reason to believe me, but... I promise you, hatred is the last thing I feel for you." Jin-gongzi's voice sounds sincere. Jian YanLi doesn't understand. "I saw how Jiang WanYin reacted to the news and I heard he takes after your mother. I—" He pauses, as though having difficulty finding the right words. "—I fear for your safety."

Something cold fills Jiang YanLi's veins. It is not fear; she is well acquainted with that feeling. She swallows past the lump in her throat. "What happened to A-Cheng?"

"He lost his temper when he heard Wei-sanren's name. He broke several rules in one go, and when the disciples gathered to try and calm him down, he lashed out." Jin-gongzi looks away. Jiang YanLi wonders what her face looks like. "Nie-gongzi was still unconscious when I left. The healers think he'll never be able to fight again. There's a chance he'll need the help of a cane to walk for the rest of his life."

The coldness in Jiang YanLi turns into pure ice.

A-Cheng has always been short-tempered, he explodes easily and says things he does not mean. He only has so much love to give, and he has no qualms in taking it back if he so wishes. But this, this isn't the A-Cheng she knows. Her didi, that baby with round cheeks she carried in her arms, he can't have grown up like this. He can't have hurt someone else so easily.

And he injured a Clan heir no less, possibly for life.

There is no way the Gusu Lan Clan will allow him to stay. A-Cheng will be expelled in disgrace, his future and the relationships with another Major Clan forever tainted by his own two hands. A-Cheng must be furious, cursing the heavens and the world itself.

Jiang YanLi blinks through her tears. "How... How are they dealing with this?

"Nie-zongzhu was called. An emissary will probably arrive here soon, too. Jiang WanYin will likely be expelled after this." Jin-gongzi's voice sounds uncharacteristically soft. Perhaps he pities her situation. Jiang YanLi wouldn't blame him if he does. "I... I still am not satisfied with this engagement. I'll never forgive my mother for taking the choice away from me. And I don't know enough about you to have a firm opinion on your character, but—I can't just let you in the middle of a storm unprepared. I'd never forgive myself if you end up harmed because of my lack of action."

A shuddering breath escapes her. Part of her knows she should stay. Maybe she could help this time, to be the voice of reason amidst all the anger and hatred that resides in the place she calls her home. Maybe...

Who is she trying to fool?

Jiang YanLi can't do anything. She never could, and possibly never will. Until when will she try to mediate? At what point will she say that enough is enough? How much more pain can she endure before she breaks for once and all?

She doesn't know. She doesn't want to find out. Jiang YanLi is exhausted.

She takes Jin-gongzi's outstretched hand. His hand is warm against hers, and his hold is the most stable thing about her life.

Just for this moment, Jiang YanLi allows herself to bask in the comfort of another human's touch. As the boat rocks back and forth, she pretends there is nothing wrong in the world, that she can be loved by the one sitting beside her.

Just for this one moment, Jiang YanLi pretends she, too, can be happy.

People believe that anger is the only emotion Nie MingJue knows and is capable of expressing. They're not completely wrong.

Nie MingJue has a hard time expressing his feelings, especially when they are positive. It's the course he inherited from his father, forced to become a Clan Leader at such a young age and forced to hide all his weaknesses for the sake of his Clan's survival. Showing anger is the easiest way to keep people away from and away from the secret of his Clan's cultivation method. It is better like this.

However, anger is not the only thing Nie MingJue knows in this life. He also knows joy, and he knows love. He remembers the happiness he felt the first time he saw Nie HuaiSang and the love that grows with every passing day.

He loves his little brother. Maybe he doesn't show it the way his A-Sang wants, but Nie MingJue only does it out of worry. A-Sang is the only thing he has left of his family, the only one Nie MingJue truly wishes to protect. He can't allow his brother to be so weak that he can't protect himself.

He can't lose A-Sang.

Nie MingJue had half a mind to write to XiChen again. Now that the Discussion Conference is finally over and he does not need to worry about unwanted visitors in his Clan, he can focus on A-Sang's learning again. He was on the way to his office when the news arrived at Qinghe.

The Gusu Lan Clan successfully exterminated a waterborne abyss with the help of a certain Wei-sanren.

Nie HuaiSang was injured after being attacked by one of his peers.

Nie MingJue sees red.

He doesn't remember much of his travel to Gusu. He doesn't care whether he looks presentable or not as he runs through the front gates, uncaring if the Lans will be alarmed by the sudden invasion. Nie MingJue sent his brother here to learn and grow into a proper Clan heir. He sent him to this place amid clouds because he trusted this Clan who cries righteousness and obedience to laws would protect him.

Instead, Nie MingJue arrives to the sight of his little brother, his A-Sang, lying on an infirmary bed. The hairstyle he takes so much pride in is a mess of bloodied, uneven strands spread over his pillow. There are bandages wrapped around his neck, a thick line of blood seeping through the fabric. His arm is tied firmly to his torso, and three of his fingers are twisted in unnatural angles.

His legs are where the greatest damage was done. Nie MingJue stares at the gaping open cuts all over his thighs and calves. He can see a number of severed tendons and even a broken bone on the left leg. Lan healers fret around him, bringing materials to to suture the wounds and continuing to pour spiritual energy into him.

These wounds could have killed any normal person. It would have killed Nie HuaiSang, if not for the Lan Clan's fast acting and A-Sang's cultivation, as mediocre as it may be.

Had the situation been any different, Nie MingJue could be staring at his brother's corpse.

"Who did this?" His voice sounds surprisingly calm to his own ears.

"Nie-zongzhu!"

"That..."

"Someone call xiansheng!"

"Daifu, I found the herbs."

"Gege..."

Nie MingJue's eyes snap back to Nie HuaiSang. His brother's face is paler than a ghost's, and his eyes are rimmed with dark bags. The sight of him now reminds Nie MingJue of how his own mother looked on her deathbed.

Nie HuaiSang's eyes are closed again before Nie MingJue can get any closer.

"Nie-zongzhu." He turns around to find Lan QiRen. The man looked tired when he left the Unclean Realm yesterday, but now he looks equal parts exhausted and terrified. "Thank you for coming so fast. I—I really don't know what to say."

"How about starting by explaining what the fuck happened?" Nie MingJue grits his teeth.

Lan QiRen doesn't flinch, but his eyes don't meet his. "One of our guest disciples had an explosion of anger. Several disciples were hurt while trying to contain him. We're looking for signs of qi deviation in the perpetrator. Nie HuaiSang is being treated to the best of our healers' abilities. We can guarantee that he's not at life risk as long as he continues receiving the necessary treatment."

Nie MingJue can't help it. He barks out a dry, humorless laugh. Take it to the Lan Clan to search for reasons why someone would hurt others. For them, in their illusion of a perfect little world where rules and justice are absolute, no one would attack for no reason. Everything can be solved through talk. Nothing bad will happen in their land, for they play by the rules.

Hypocrites. Perhaps, the worst group after the damned Wen.

He hates all of them. He will never entrust them with anyone from his Clan ever again.

"Lan-xiansheng."

They both turn towards the source of that voice. Nie MingJue's eyes narrow at the sight of Jiang FengMian. He's still panting hard and his face is pale as well. He glances back at Lan QiRen.

Of course.

Of course the Lans can't admit that whoever did this is simply a bad person. It is the son of a renowned Clan Leader, after all. There has to be another explanation, otherwise—Otherwise they'll have no way to claim themselves pure for their upbringing anymore. They'll have to admit that anyone can carry hatred and filth in their eyes.

They'll have no excuse to remain neutral against Qishan Wen anymore.

Nie MingJue takes in a slow, shuddering breath. He turns around and stomps off. No matter how much he wishes to kill Jiang WanYin with his own hands, Nie MingJue loathes the idea of letting A-Sang in this place any longer than necessary. He needs to make arrangements to take him back to Qinghe. A transportation array will do. He has more than enough power to take himself and A-Sang back if he needs to.

From today onwards, all relationship between Qinghe Nie, Gusu Lan and Yunmeng Jiang are forever severed.

"I heard things are tense between Qinghe Nie and the other Clans, but why?"

"C'mon, there's no way you can't have heard! Like, seriously, it's everything the world is talking about now."

"I was hunting down monsters. No time to gossip out there. So, what happened?"

"First, the Gusu Lan Clan managed to kill a waterborne abyss in less than two days—"

"Wait, seriously? I thought that was a lie!"

"—and then, two days later, when the news of that started spreading... Jiang-gongzi went on a rampage and injured several disciples. Nie-gongzi was one of them. No one knows if the boy will be able to walk or talk again after this, and it's already been months."

"All this at Cloud Recesses?"

"Of course! They were all studying there, remember? Rich bastards."

"I also heard Jiang-zongzhu and his wife had an ugly fight when Jiang-gongzi returned to Lotus Pier. It seems that the fight became physical for the first time since they got married. No one has seen Jiang-zongzhu since and Yu-furen is acting as Yunmeng Jiang's leader now."

"You don't think she killed him, do you?"

"Of course not! Who in their sane mind would accept that woman as their leader? Yunmeng Jiang is constantly losing disciples and even the common people became too scared to reach out for help."

"Isn't that why a lot of rogue cultivators are heading to Yunmeng? To fill in the gaps?"

"I think so."

"But no one knows why Jiang-gongzi did this?"

"No one knows for sure. Some think he was throwing a tantrum for not making part of the waterborne abyss' extermination. It is likely, with that personality of his."

"And there was something else. Apparently, the nameless boy who roared about for years now is actually the son of that CangSe-sanren, Wei Ying. It seems Jiang-zongzhu looked for him for some time, but couldn't find the child. Yu-furen was mad because, well, everyone knows Jiang-zongzhu was infatuated by CangSe-sanren."

"So Yunmeng wasn't visited by the nameless child because he had a pact with Jiang-zongzhu, but because he wanted revenge?"

"Jiang-zongzhu didn't repay his life debt to CangSe-sanren. Now his own son will be the ruin of his Clan."

"Ha! No one can escape from their karma!"

"What about Jiang-guniang? Where does she stand in this?"

"Oh, that part was hot gossip too!"

"Some people said her fiancé came and took her back to Lanling Jin right before the storm hit. They traveled alone all the way."

"Oh, good heavens."

"Right? And she hasn't returned to her home since. Jin-gongzi stepped up and demanded she will live there from now on so that she'll be used to their routine and way of doing things by the time their marriage happens."

"Do you think...? I mean, we all know who Jin-gongzi's father is."

"Who knows. All we know is that Jiang-guniang's reputation won't get out of this unscathed either."

"What a tragedy... To think a Major Clan such as Yunmeng Jiang would end up in a scandal like this."

"Oh, more important than that, Wei-sanren seems to be good friends with Lan-er-gongzi of Gusu."

"Really?"

"Yeah! I've seen them night hunting together myself. They make for a powerful duo."

"I heard Wei-sanren also provided Gusu Lan with some of his inventions. Their performance in Night Hunts increased tenfold since."

"I thought he hated Clans."

"Well... He certainly doesn't hate Lan-er-gongzi. And he's also giving them to a selection of people from other Clans he trusts. Wei-sanren surely isn't selfish."

"I wonder if he'd give me a love potion."

"Or a life elixir!"

Bouts of laughter fill the tavern. ZhiRuo slips away, unnoticed by the cultivators who take so much glee in gossiping about others' lives. This is more than enough information. She is sure her baobao will be pleased when he returns.

Until then, ZhiRuo will wait patiently.

"I still can't believe Gusu Lan exterminated a waterborne abyss just like that!"

"As if. It was all that guy's doing. What's his name? Wang? Wu... Wei-sanren, isn't it? Gusu Lan just shamelessly took the credit for it, those two-faced assholes!"

"Even if they did, it doesn't change that our Qishan Wen will always be the strongest. Wei-sanren has nothing against our zongzhu."

"And they couldn't even protect a disciple under their care. They're so incompetent!"

"Hush, now! The next Discussion Conference will be here. We'll show them how it's done."

Those voices invade Wen Qing's office against her best wishes. They are all frivolous, meaningless talk of people who choose to do nothing to change anything in their world. Not worth her time or attention.

The person sitting across from her, however, is very much worthy of her time and attention.

"You made yourself famous again, Wei Ying," she comments.

She knew it would be just a matter of time. Wei Ying is a talent to reckon with and a good person by nature. Keeping his name away from the world has always felt wrong to her. Even more so now, when she knows how much he must have given up to have the life he has now. Lotus Pier, as filled with terrible people and bad memories as it may have been, had also been his home for many years, and the people Wei Ying loved then are still alive there.

Wei Ying smiles at her. He looks surprisingly fine for someone who just used a transportation talisman just to see her. She can't tell if his golden core is that strong or if he figured out a way to use those talismans with resentful energy instead. No matter which one it is, though... She is happy he did.

"That's nothing, Qing-jie! Something way more important happened and I need to tell someone about it!" Wei Ying whines. On the door behind him, a talisman flicks with light. An ingenious little thing that blocks all noise from the inside, but lets her hear everything from the outside. Impressively handy when you have a visitor that shouldn't be here. "I'm serious, I'll die at this rate!"

Wen Qing crosses her arms. She narrows her eyes at him. "If this is about Lan-er-gongzi again—"

"Of course it is him!"

"—you better prepare yourself because I have too much work to do to deal with this bullshit again, Wei Ying."

Wei Ying's visible flinch would be more convincing if he wasn't smiling. "Don't worry, Qing-jie, I'm not here to go over how amazing a Night Hunt partner he is, nor how perfect he is and definitely not about the definitely-not-platonic thoughts I'm having around him and—I'll stop, I'll stop, put the needles down! Geez, you never change." He shakes his head. Wen Qing keeps her needles in hand, just in case. When Wei Ying speaks again, his voice is serious, "I think he's another leak."

Wen Qing's entire body stiffens at his words.

Five years ago, she started having dreams of a life that wasn't, that shouldn't be hers. She dreamed of the fall of her Clan, the pain and disgrace the remnants of her family were forced to endure day by day. She saw A-Ning's death and watched with conflicted emotions as her, their savior worked hard to keep them safe even if it meant he, too, would die in the end.

The memories didn't fully come back until way after the first rumors of the nameless child surfaced, and it took much longer until she understood what the absence of a certain Wei Ying of Yunmeng meant. With A-Ning's help, she was able to determine that Wei Ying was most active in the area surrounding Yiling, and they made several trips towards the area to search under the guise of buying herbs for new medicinal recipes. It was pure luck that allowed them to reunite on that day.

Unlike her, Wei Ying had already figured out the state of the world they were in. "There was a certain spell I retrieved from the Wen Clan's Sun Palace after the Sunshot Campaign. It allows the caster to revert the flow of time and travel back to a specific period under two conditions: one, they must have a clear point of change, so that this altered reality won't fall to rubbles; two, they need to kill a hundred people and draw the power from their blood to activate the spell," he had explained.

The point of change was obvious enough: Jiang FengMian never took Wei Ying back to Yunmeng. Everything started to change from that moment, and the world shifted to accommodate that change.

However, no one but the caster should have retained their memories. They who remember the other timeline are the cracks in the spell. Leaks. That Wei Ying, the very heart of the change in this world, remembered from the very start was already a sign of flaws in the caster's plans. And then there was Wen Qing, who recovered her own not that long after. And now, Lan WangJi...

"Are you sure?" she asks. She has to. She needs to make sure, to make sense of this new information that could change everything once more.

"He doesn't remember, I'm sure of it." Wei Ying's expression is equal parts nervous and scared. "But, sometimes... I think he feels. He must be aware that something is wrong but he doesn't know what nor why."

Wen Qing nods in understanding. She, too, had this feeling before recovering her memories. Like there was something terribly amiss and wrong but she couldn't pinpoint what it was. It almost drove her insane back then. "Okay. And what do you think about it?"

"What do you mean, what I think?" Wei Ying has that look in his eyes. He understood exactly what she meant, but is pretending not to. She knows it can't be helped.

"You don't want him to remember, do you?" she asks in the gentlest voice she can muster.

Wei Ying wavers. "I don't—I don't know. I mean, it would be great to have someone else I could talk about it with, but... Lan Zhan and I, we... We've been going out on Night Hunts together for almost a year now. We're friends. Really close. But we weren't like that before. If he remembers... What if..."

Wen Qing inhales sharply. She stands up and circles the table. Her arms wrap around Wei Ying's shaking body. He's not crying. He rarely does, much to Wen Qing's concern. She holds him as tight as she can. Wei Ying hides his face on the curve of her neck.

"Do you want to know what I think?" Wei Ying hums. Wen Qing continues: "I think that, no matter what happens, what you and Lan-er-gongzi have right now will never disappear. Just like the bond you, A-Ning and I have will never disappear."

"You're family. It's different." Despite his words, there's something lighter in his voice.

It is relief.

"Well... If you have things your way, he'll be family in no time too." Wen Qing's lips curl into a small, teasing smile. "I'm not sorry, but after hearing you talk about him non-stop for months I refuse to let you do anything that's not marry the man."

"Qing-jie!" Wei Ying stares at her, horrified and embarrassed to no end. "Do you really think I, Wei Ying of Yiling, would marry into the Lan Clan of all places?"

"Of course not. The rules will kill you. But there's nothing stopping Lan-er-gongzi from marrying out of the Clan, is there?" Wei Ying opens his mouth only to close it again. Wen Qing smirks. "Can you imagine it? Like mother, like son, both elope with a very decent man and ditch all the assholes that lead those Clans."

"You're the worst."

"I am your sister. I have a moral obligation to make your life worse."

"But not Wen Ning's?"

They pause, looking at each other with contemplative expressions. They shake their heads in unison.

No one would dare touch their didi. And if they try, well, they'll discover that death would be a much kinder fate than what they have in store for them.

Cloud Recesses is a beautiful place. A small piece of paradise hidden among the clouds, where no worldly worries are able to reach. Everything about this place speaks of centuries of tradition, from the ancestral building to the disciple roaming around, quiet and mindful of the thousands of rules engraved to the wall of the mountain.

Or so it used to be.

Crimson flames burn everything the eye can see. They engulf the forest and threaten to reduce centuries of tradition to nothing. Disciples run around, disoriented and confused. The smell of smoke is pungent in the air and they feel their lungs burn under the weight of it all.

In the middle of the chaos, a heir in white and blue flees down the mountain, arms full of precious books and scrolls he secured from the secret library. Standing on the library's doors, a boy with glass-like eyes glare at the ones responsible for spreading the flames. They all bear the Sun motif in their robes.

Lan WangJi hates all of them. He knows there's nothing his Clan can do to stop this. They can only stand by and pray to the heavens that no life will be lost tonight. His leg hurts. His very soul shatters to pieces at the sight of his home being destroyed so mercilessly.

He closes his eyes, and thinks of a boy with a smile brighter than the sun itself. The chains tying Lan WangJi to the edge of the cliff disappear. He takes a step towards the answers he so desperately needs.

Lan WangJi falls.

Chapter 4

Chapter by HikariNoHimeWriter

Chapter Text

For many people, Lan QiRen is a name to be feared, disliked and revered at the same time. No one wants to cross his path, either from fear of being reprimanded in some way or from pure discontentment with Lan QiRen's attitude. Pedantic and close-minded, two characteristics that scare many people away. But he is also a leader and a competent teacher shoulders the responsibility of teaching many young masters from all Clans. Everyone wants their child to be taught by this renowned elder of the Lan Clan.

This desire was only reinforced when the Twin Jades of Gusu rose to fame. That was when everyone, including people who previously disdained Lan QiRen, started working towards gaining his favor and building a better relationship with him.

It was sickening, in a way, how they treated Lan QiRen as nothing but as a means to an end, someone who only exists to produce the results they desperately wished for but refused to work towards themselves.

Even worse, however, was how they treated the Twin Jades raised by him.

They were but children on their first Night Hunts and yet adults already saw a role model in them. Their behavior, their cultivation level, their accomplishments, even the way they breathed—everything they did and were became reason and ground for comparison.

How come that heir from a smaller Clan struggles with drawing talismans? The Twin Jades did it fine since they were eleven! They couldn't defeat a simple beast? Didn't the Twin Jades defeat one twice this size on their own? Incompetent! Weak, pathetic child! Why can't you be more like them instead?

The Twin Jades were treated as the epitome of perfection. That's what they were supposed to be, perfect. They had to, lest they bring shame upon their family. Perfect, yet unapproachable, untouchable, always keeping others at an arm's length. Standing alone at the top and pretending not to notice the pain and loneliness that plagued their lives.

They would always only have each other for comfort and company.

Or so Lan XiChen thought.

A humorless chuckle escapes from his lips. Here he is, dirty and disheveled, covered in grime and sweat, with pain irradiating from his right ankle and a group of Wens pursuing him nonstop, and still he can't entirely push away that dark feeling from his heart.

Lan XiChen believed WangJi would always look up to him, to admire him and seek him for comfort. But WangJi doesn't need him for that anymore. He found someone else for that—a friend, someone who is always at his side, who cherishes and looks forward to having his presence.

He can't help but wonder what if Wei-sanren never appeared. What if, in another life, he had the exact personality needed to keep WangJi away. Or, even, if they stood on opposite paths of life, instead of seemingly walking down the same road. Then, he thinks, WangJi would still be the little brother Lan XiChen knew and grew up with. He would be able to read him, to understand him like no other.

But, he knows, then WangJi wouldn't be happy. And that's something Lan XiChen does not wish for.

And yet.

Why does WangJi and Wei-sanren's relationship bother him so much to begin with? Lan XiChen should be happy. Happy, as a good, decent and righteous older brother. Moreover, their relationship greatly benefits their Gusu Lan Clan. There is no real reason why he should be so discontent.

Oh. It's because they're good friends, isn't it? Because WangJi will always have Wei-sanren by his side, willing to listen to him and to just bask in the same contentment. Meanwhile, Lan XiChen—he has no one. Not since what happened with A-Sang. Nie MingJue won't talk to him, or answer his letters. The few times their paths crossed during Night Hunts, Nie MingJue refused to even look at him.

Lan XiChen closes his eyes shut. His thoughts are disordered and his feelings, uncontrollable. Deep down, he knows it's not Wei-sanren's fault. He could never predict or stop Jiang-gongzi's actions. But emotions know no reason, and Lan XiChen has nothing and no one else to let out this anger onto.

Pathetic, he thinks. His nostrils burn when he breathes. The scent of smoke won't disappear no matter how far from Cloud Recesses he is. That smell is already carved in his lungs, just as the image of his home up in flames is but an everlasting memory in his heart.

To think that he is so powerless, that he could only pick up as many scriptures as he could carry and run away—disgraceful. He wonders if Shufu is disappointed in him. If he brought shame upon his Clan in his inability to find better solutions and set for a different course of action.

He doesn't know. He isn't sure if he wants to know, either. Knowing makes things too real. The truth is often not what he hopes to hear. It is ugly and painful and could very easily become too much.

Lan XiChen doesn't dare think of his parents' fate.

Instead, he forces himself to stand again. His knees nearly buckle from the increasing pain. Lan XiChen bites his lip to stop a pained groan from escaping him. He feels as though his body weighs several tons more than it should. He leans against a tree for support.

He can see smoke rising to the sky in a thin line. He must be nearing another village, or maybe a city, then. Lan XiChen has no idea what its name is. He's not in Gusu anymore, and so he doesn't have any knowledge of this area. He's vaguely aware that he ran West from Gusu. He must be somewhere in Yunmeng by now. Maybe—

No, he scolds himself. The Jiang Clan ruined enough things in his life as is. Lan XiChen does not want to owe them anything, especially not Jiang-gongzi. No, he'll find another way. He refuses to depend on these people any more than he needs to. He may be acting selfishly and childishly, but Lan XiChen really does not care anymore.

The nameless child never visited Yunmeng once, he suddenly remembers. At first, the Clans believed the nameless child had a pact with Yunmeng Jiang, a secret agreement to not steal any more believers and prey the way he did to other Clans. Then, after Wei-sanren's true identity became public, they reached the silent agreement that it was, in fact, an act of vengeance against the Clan that failed to protect him.

Lan XiChen never thought too much about it, but now he can't help but wonder why Wei-sanren made that choice. No matter what it is, though, Lan XiChen can't blame him for it. If anything, Wei-sanren was wise to not get involved with that Clan at all.

A voice clamors somewhere behind him. Another voice joins it, and another, and another, and then Lan XiChen loses count of how many there are. Lan XiChen turns around just long enough to recognize the sun pattern embroidered on white robes. Lan XiChen runs. His lungs hurt from the effort and he feels as though his leg is on fire.

He grabs the handle of his sword. If he needs to fight—if he needs to kill to get out of it, then so be it. He'll reach that small piece of civilization and he will come back alive to Gusu, to Shufu and WangJi. He'll survive and make it up to Nie MingJue and A-Sang.

He will survive.

The Wen cultivators surround him in a flurry of white and red his tired eyes can barely keep up with. Lan XiChen unsheathes his sword. At the same time, a shadow descends upon them and Lan XiChen's whole world turns into darkness.

In his heart, Lan XiChen feels a sudden pang of loss. For what—or who—he will never know... Not in this life.

Just a couple of li away from that spot, Meng Yao looks at the sky, a mirrored sense of loss in his heart. He does not dwell on that for long, however, and quickly returns to work. Nothing good happens when he fails to fulfill his role. And, at the very least, he needs to keep on living, miserable as this life may be...

Until the day he may rise to the skies.

Jin ZiXuan is tired.

Though the scenery outside his room is peaceful and beautiful to the extreme, he knows it's nothing but an illusion. There's a tension in the air that wasn't there before, hushed voices spreading stories of unimaginable horror across the lands. The training fields are full today, but the disciples hardly make any progress. They're too scared to pay attention to the routine moves.

He doesn't blame them for it. How could he? The entire cultivation world was thrown upside down in a matter of months. Jin ZiXuan still finds it hard to believe that the relationship between Yunmeng Jiang, Gusu Lan and Qinghe Nie is practically ruined. It's even harder to stomach the fact that Yunmeng Jiang is decaying so fast at the hands of Yu-furen and Jiang WanYin, while Jiang-zongzhu is still missing.

And now there is Gusu Lan.

Cloud Recesses was burned to the ground. Lan-zongzhu is between life and death, ZeWu-Jun is still missing and no one knows what's his status as of now. No one knows why the attack happened. The Lan Clan didn't speak publicly about it. Qishan Wen obviously won't take responsibility for it and no Clans will be brave enough to demand answers, either. At least not now, when two Major Clans are on the edge of collapse.

No one wants to be the next to fall.

In the middle of this all, Jin ZiXuan noticed his father becoming more reclusive. Jin GuangShan rarely spoke aloud about his thoughts and plans—he is the kind of man that thrives in secret and silence, and only comes out to let others bask in his glory—but Jin ZiXuan usually has a good idea of what his father is planning.

Not knowing only serves to increase his nerves over this madness of a situation even more.

A sigh escapes his lips. He ties Suihua to his sash and leaves his room with the confident steps of a leader-to-be. Disciples and servants alike bow their respects when he passes by. Jin ZiXuan ignores all of them and all of their voices until he hears a pair of familiar, distant voices.

He reached an intersection. Jin ZiXuan glances at the corridor to his right and, sure enough, his mother and Jiang YanLi stand together. Jin-furen gesticulates effusively, and sunlight catches on he golden bracelets and earrings. Her appearance makes for a stark contrast against Jiang YanLi—Jiang YanLi who is all soft purple tones and small, gentle smiles.

Jin ZiXuan is suddenly hit with the realization that he much prefers Jiang YanLi's simplicity to his mother's extravagance. And not just in appearance, but also in personality. He's not sure what to do with these feelings and thoughts. He pushes them to the back of his mind to examine later. Hopefully.

He quickly moves away from their line of sight, hidden by one of the pillars his father takes so much pride on. Jin ZiXuan deliberately manipulates his qi flow to enhance his hearing. It's not as easy as he wishes it was; he is better doing this with all senses at once, after all. It still works.

Unknowing of his presence down the hallway, Jiang YanLi speaks in a careful, overly formal tone. "Jin-furen, I wholeheartedly thank you for your concern, but—"

"A-Li, please. Your mother is worried sick about you. Your brother needs you, too." Even down the hall, Jin ZiXuan can hear the jingling and chiming of his mother's jewelry. "I'll go with you if you wish me to, but Lotus Pier is your home. There's nothing to fear."

Jin ZiXuan frowns. His mother seemed delighted from the day Jiang YanLi came to live with them. He never heard a word of complaint nor suggestions that she went back home. It was a relief for him, for he knew he'd need help to keep Jiang YanLi here for as long as needed to keep her safe. Especially now, that his father is mostly absent and the eyes of seniors and fellow disciples are starting to turn towards her permanence with barely hidden disapproval.

But something about Jiang YanLi's behavior, the tension in her shoulders and the way she so subtly looks for a way out—Jin ZiXuan is sure that this isn't the first time his mother brought up this matter with her.

He feels sick to his stomach. Even in a situation like this... Jin-furen really is Yu-furen's sworn sister. A perfect match, one made in heavens, if you will.

"I have stayed in contact with my father all this time. He has assured me repeated times that things are okay." Jiang YanLi's smile doesn't falter even if her entire body language betrays her discomfort and nervousness. For how long did she have to fake smiles to become this good? She always smiled in Jin ZiXuan's presence over the years, too. He wonders what else could he have hidden in them. "Besides, I believe it's in everyone's best interest that I stay. Since I will marry Jin-gongzi one day, isn't it for the best that we get closer now that he's willing?"

Jin-furen stares at her for a moment. Then, she throws her head back, a heart laugh escaping her lips. It's as spontaneous as it's inelegant. It stirs up something unpleasant in Jin ZiXuan's chest. He assumes it's the unfairness of all this. Jin ZiXuan never dealt well with injustice and misuse of power. He doesn't mind arrogance—he knows he, himself, is the embodiment of the arrogance of his Clan—but he hates it when it's actively used to hurt people, especially when they're more vulnerable and less powerful than the aggressor.

"Oh, my, you're really so naive," Jin-furen says with a smile on her face. It's not a kind smile: it's purely mocking. Mocking of Jiang YanLi's words and standing. Mocking of her unwillingness to endure unnecessary suffering. Mocking of everything that makes her Jiang YanLi. "Do you really believe that? That that child wants to get to know you after all this time?"

Jiang YanLi's smile freezes for the first time. She asks in a small voice, "May I be so bold as to ask what you mean with this, Jin-furen?"

Jin-furen continues, unaware of the change or perhaps failing to recognize just how deep that change truly is. "Say, how many times did the two of you actually talk since you came here? Two, three? And of course, I'm not counting shared meals as there are always other people around then and you barely talk. So tell me, dear A-Li, how can you think of that as he being willing?"

Jin ZiXuan's hands close into tight fists. He can't quite understand why his mother's words bother him so much. He feels like he failed, in a way. It's irrational. Jiang YanLi is safe and she never showed dissatisfaction with her stay here. He did way more than he actually needed to—whatever happens in Jiang YanLi's home shouldn't be his concern, and no one would blame him if he didn't either.

So why...?

"I made sure to raise him well. He'll never betray your trust nor your marriage. He's not like that man." The disdain in her voice makes it clear enough who she is referring to. "But you must be realist, A-Li. If you hope for too much you'll only have your heart crushed in the end. Don't be like your mother and me. It'll just make you suffer."

You carved your unhappiness by yourself, Jin ZiXuan can't help but think. He loves his mother. He wishes his father was a better husband for her. But he is also aware that Jin-furen and her Clan were the ones pressuring Jin GuangShan into this union, much in the same way Yu-furen did. Only, Jin GuangShan accepted way quicker than Jiang-zongzhu did, so much so that many forget the fact that he had no desire for such marriage at all. Perhaps, his father knew he'd have no choice but to get an heir eventually and chose the easy way out.

His mother knew what she was getting herself into. How can she claim to be the one suffering when it was her choice from the start?

She continues, undisturbed, "I am aware that you're too kind to put that brat in his place, but you know you won't get anywhere this way. You have the blood of the Yu in your veins. You can do better than this, A-Li. ZiXuan will have no power to deny you if you put your mind into it. If I were you—"

Jin-furen stops mid-sentence. Her eyes go wide, and she takes half a step back out of pure instinct. Jin ZiXuan glances over in search of the reason for the sudden change. His gaze falls on Jiang YanLi's face and he, too, feels a strange surge of uneasiness rise within him. Not only uneasiness, but fear.

Jiang YanLi has kept a smile on her face through all times. Even when she received the news of what Jiang WanYin did at Cloud Recesses and when they learned of the fight between Yu-furen and Jiang-zongzhu, she managed to share a smile, small and weak as it may be.

Right now, however, there's no smile on her face. Her lips are tightly sealed and she looks at Jin-furen with coldness. The soft features of Jiang YanLi's face and the innocent-looking hairstyle only make her expression look even more gloomy, unfitting and uncomfortably out of place.

When she speaks, her voice is devoid of any emotion, "May I take my turn to speak, furen?" Jin-furen's jaw is set on a hard, tense line. At her uncertain nod, Jiang YanLi continues: "I am truly thankful for your worry. I am aware that I am not the daughter A-Niang hoped to have, in cultivation and personality and temperament. However, I have no intention of changing, nor do I wish to. This is the only way I wish to be—my father's daughter, until the very end."

The way she utters that last sentence makes Jin ZiXuan shudder. Not because of the words themselves, but because of the confidence and, dare he say, pride Jiang YanLi takes in being so much like her father. He feels proud of her in an unexpected, strange way, and also pleasantly surprised to see this other side of Jiang YanLi.

"As for Jin-gongzi... Pardon my bluntness, but I am afraid you do not know me well, Jin-furen." Jin ZiXuan sees a flare of anger flash in his mother's eyes. Jiang YanLi doesn't stop there, however. "I will be the first to admit that our match may be ill-fated. I am not a match for his prowess nor do I have the beauty necessary to be considered deserving of him. I will never hold it against him if he considers me unfitting and unworthy of his affection. If it would please him and I had the power of choosing, I would not stand against dissolving this engagement."

Those words seem to wake Jin-furen out of her stupor. She raises her voice, a barrage of protests leaving her one after the other—but Jin ZiXuan cannot hear a single word.

For the longest time, he believed that Jiang YanLi only wished to take advantage of this engagement. Though Yunmeng Jiang and Lanling Jin are both prominent Clans and therefore equals, it would be foolish to think they have the same power and reputation. Especially where economy is concerned, the riches of Lanling Jin only fail to surpass the Qishan Wen Clan. That belief is the main reason why he so fiercely rejected all attempts and bonding coming from her. He saw her for what others spoke of her and judged her for her appearance alone.

Jin ZiXuan never thought he would be proven so wrong before.

"However... I don't want to. I want to fight for him. I want to continue working and doing my best to make our relationship work. For me, this one aspect of my powerlessness is a blessing, for it allows me to keep trying. I love Jin-gongzi." Jiang YanLi puts a hand over her heart. Her voice is inexplicably soft. Jin ZiXuan's lips tremble. "I have watched him all this time. He is kind and caring with his shidis and he is respectful of others even if some people believe otherwise. He uses his power for good in all ways he can. His sense of justice and love for his family are commendable and worth praise. To restrain him in way, shape or form is to destroy the very core values I admire him for and it's something I refuse to do."

Jin ZiXuan looks away when Jiang YanLi offers Jin-furen a polite bow. It feels wrong. It is wrong. Jiang YanLi shouldn't be the one bowing. She especially shouldn't do it when she's not in the wrong and the person she's doing it for doesn't deserve it.

Jin-furen's brows are furrowed. She doesn't say anything to that. She can't. But she also can't stand the fact that someone so much younger, someone who should look up to her for guidance, rejects her worldview. Jin-furen refuses to lose the discussion, and so she changes the focus back to the original topic.

"Even then, your mother needs you, A-Li. She can't manage the entire Clan on her own, and Jiang Cheng already has too much on his hand managing the disciples as the Head Disciple. Someone needs to step up and make sure the property is well taken care of." Jin-furen's voice is calm and almost condescending. "Who knows at what state the Yunmeng Jiang Clan will fall to if you neglect your share of the work to selfishly stay here?"

"Pardon my rudeness once again, but you are not a part of the Jiang Clan. You are not privy to the workings of our Clan and therefore your words are meaningless without the context needed to make such claims."

"You—"

Ah. Jin ZiXuan has seen and heard more than enough. He steps out of the shadows of the pillar. He schools his expression to hide any unnecessary emotions that may give away the fact that he was eavesdropping just now. He calls, "A-Li."

Both women turn towards him, one with shock and disbelief in her eyes, the other with surprise and a hint of hope.

Jiang YanLi is the first to recover. She bows one last time to Jin-furen before hurrying to his side. Her shoulders aren't as tense as they were before, but there is still some nervousness in her eyes. "Can I help you, Jin-gongzi?"

Jin ZiXuan watches his mother from the corner of his eye. Jin-furen looks as though she wants to say something more, but doesn't dare to. He inquires, "Do I interrupt?"

Of course I did, he thinks to himself. They do not need to know that he knows, however. It would be utterly counterproductive.

"Jin-furen and I already settled the matters we were discussing," Jiang YanLi lies easily. However, the words take the rest of the tension away. She truly, desperately wished for a way out of that conversation. She turns towards Jin-furen. "I thank you again for your words."

Jin-furen nods curtly. She doesn't look pleased. Jin ZiXuan lets his eyes go back to Jiang YanLi—soft, expectant and hopeful Jiang YanLi. Her smile is gentle and bright, just as her eyes when she looks at him.

For the first time in his entire life, the word cute crosses his mind to refer to Jiang YanLi.

Jin ZiXuan feels he has a lot to examine later. "I am going to town. I wondered if you wanted to come too."

It's not really true. Jin ZiXuan only had a vague idea of going out to refresh a little and maybe distract himself from the troubles surrounding him. He didn't specifically wish to go to Lanling City, nor did he originally intend on taking Jiang YanLi with him.

Maybe... Maybe this is what it means to be willing to know someone better.

A part of him wishes to be the admirable man Jiang YanLi described, to be someone worthy of love—for her, and for the world.

"I would love to," she replies in the happiest voice Jin ZiXuan ever heard from her.

He really, truthfully can't regret this choice.

Lan XiChen is a strange man. ZeWu-Jun is his title—an honorable name earned through his achievements in life as a cultivator. His voice is soft and his words mild and polite, and he does not show any discontentment towards her presence. ZhiRuo can't tell much on his appearance with her lack of sight, but she assumes he's a much handsome young master; and yet, he's humble enough not to let it get to his head.

However, those good things are only there at a surface level. Behind the mask, Lan XiChen is something else entirely. There's hatred and despair that don't match his words and mannerisms, his qi flow reflects the turmoils shaking his mind and hurting his very soul. He wants to lash out, but he doesn't dare to. His ideals are strong and righteous, but he doesn't fight for them. He is a coward who dares not see the truth.

He is the polar opposite of Lan WangJi.

ZhiRuo isn't sure what to think of this and this man. She doesn't think he can hurt her baobao, nor is he a threat to him. His presence, however, brings out something uncomfortable about her baobao, something dark and painful that she is not privy to.

She wants him gone.

But they can't just send him back. Not yet, not when there's such a strong vigilance around Cloud Recesses and so many people seeking this man in order to hurt and possibly kill him. And that, too, is something they cannot allow.

Lan XiChen is someone precious for Lan WangJi, and Lan WangJi is the one in Wei Ying's heart. To protect Lan XiChen is no different than protecting Wei Ying now. She can't let her beloved baobao be hurt. Not after everything he went through, even things she will never know about, and all the pain he already carries on his shoulders.

She raises her head at the sound of footsteps. The chimes of a bell fill the cave. It's Wei Ying.

"I got food," he says, his words immediately followed by the rustling of fabric and muffled thuds. "C'mon. You need to eat. We can't have you getting sick now, can we?"

It takes a moment before Lan XiChen approaches Wei Ying. ZhiRuo can still feel liquid agitation coursing through his spiritual veins. His words are barely audible. "Have you... Heard anything about Cloud Recesses?"

A sigh escapes Wei Ying's lips. He answers honestly: "It seems the fire was controlled and extinguished by the second day. No deaths as of now, but several injured and a few people in critical situation. Lan QiRen is leading the Clan at the moment. No one knows about Lan Zhan's situation beyond that he had an injured leg last time he was seen."

"And help?"

The Yunmeng Jiang bell chimes again. Her baobao must be shaking his head. "Nothing from any of the Major Clans. I am not sure about smaller Clans, however."

Unlikely, ZhiRuo thinks. If the richest won't take a move first, what in the world would convince the poorer ones to help? There's nothing to gain from helping a Clan going through a crisis, but so, so much to lose with the looming threat of the Sun above them.

Lan XiChen's voice sounds dejected, but unsurprised. "Thank you, Wei-sanren."

He does not ask to go back home. Perhaps, because he knows it's impossible. At least now, at this present moment. ZhiRuo can't help the swell of affection for his quiet suffering. She is a mother, after all; what mother would be indifferent to a youngster's pain?

"It won't be for long," Wei Ying says, catching their attention. "I have allies in the Wen Clan. Wen RuoHan will bring all the Clan heirs to Qishan. The attention of the cultivation world will be focused there for some time. You'll be able to return safely to Gusu, then."

ZhiRuo thinks of Wen Qing and Wen Ning. She wonders how they are faring now in that hateful Clan of theirs. She hopes they are okay, safe, if they're still able to communicate with Wei Ying under the current situation.

Lan XiChen's agitation only grow at his words. Wei Ying adds before he can say anything: "Like I said, I have allies in the Wen Clan. People I would trust my life with. My family. They will work into keeping all the heirs safe, Lan Zhan included. And I, too, will join them soon."

"Why?!" Lan XiChen asks. "Why would you do that? Why put yourself through all this if you're not part of any Clan and have no duty to anyone?"

"Because my beloved is," Wei Ying answers softly. His voice is melancholic, full of so much longing it's hard to believe it belongs to this life only. "And because there's something there only I can do."

There's a pause. In the heaviness of that silence, ZhiRuo is stricken with the feeling that Wei Ying is smiling. Not the smile of the proud rogue cultivator he grew up to be, but the smile of a nameless child struggling to exist in a world that shouldn't have been his.

"Believe me when I say this, ZeWu-Jun," he says in a low, eerie voice, "there is no crime in this world that isn't repaid tenfold."

The Wen Clan will have what they're owed. Karma spares no one in this world, and that lesson shall be engraved in their very souls for the rest of eternity.

No matter what.

There was a time when Nie HuaiSang feared pain.

Many people would call him a coward for it. How could a cultivator, someone meant to deal with and exterminate the supernatural, be afraid of something so trivial and even consequential to this kind of life? A disgrace for his Clan, a shameful stain on his family name and his brother's greatest disappointment in this life: that's who Nie HuaiSang was, and still is, in their eyes.

He tried his best to not let those things bother him across the years. So what if he isn't what they expect of him? It's not like Nie HuaiSang cares about cultivation to begin with! He never had any desire to be a Clan heir, or a warrior, or a leader at all. No, his dreams and passions lie somewhere else.

Nie HuaiSang has the heart of an artist. Painting, writing, sculpturing, he loves all forms of art. His extensive collections are a testament to it. Nie HuaiSang also put effort into making his own works, however limited his skills may be; he will always be proud of the painted fan hanging on his wall, with a slightly altered rendition of his Clan's motif.

He was a creator. He found beauty in life and translated it into his art. He knew not many would be able to appreciate it, but Nie HuaiSang didn't care about that either. His creations were meant solely for himself, and as long as he could have them, there was nothing to complain about. Nie HuaiSang would have been content as long as he was allowed this small bit of freedom, no matter how many times his brother attempted to destroy it and the disapproval of others.

Unfortunately, Fate isn't as kind as he wishes it could be.

Nie HuaiSang stares at the wall opposite from his bed. The beast fan is still there. It's perhaps the only open show of love for his Clan he ever made. The sight of it used to excite him—an unspoken challenge from his past self, a call to make more, create more, and create better, and surpass the work of art that fan is. The challenge is still here, but instead of being exciting it's simply mocking.

How could it not be, when Nie HuaiSang can't even hold his brush without feeling his entire body burn with liquid pain? When every breath, every slight movement makes him wish he had died on that day under the blade of Sandu?

Ah. Sandu. Such a fitting name for a powerful weapon moved by the hatred and anger filling the heart of its master. Nie HuaiSang wasn't even the target of said hatred, and yet—

And yet, here he is. An artist that lost the ability to create like a bird that lost its wings. Pathetic. Pitiful. A tragedy in and of itself.

Nie HuaiSang purses his lips. If only the pain wasn't so great, if only he could at least use his hands freely, he wouldn't mind his situation nearly as much. He doesn't care about the legs that will never move again or the stagnant core that will likely never develop beyond this point. He doesn't care about the Clan he will likely never be able to inherit regardless of blood ties. The only thing Nie HuaiSang cares about, the only thing that truly hurts him, is the prospect of never making his art again.

He will never forgive Jiang WanYin for taking that away from him. And all for what? Nie HuaiSang can't even begin to make sense of it. There's no explanation for this, no reason good enough to explain why Jiang WanYin attacked him in such a cruel, merciless way.

There is no explanation as to why Nie HuaiSang survived at all, the thought comes without notice. If only he didn't survive, if only Sandu cut deeper into his neck, Nie HuaiSang wouldn't be here. He wouldn't be in pain. He wouldn't have to deal with a silent home and a brother who won't even look at him. He wouldn't have to deal with the guilt that he is the sole reason why his brother and XiChen-gege fell apart.

Coward as it may sound, many things would be so much easier if he simply wasn't here.

If only...

Nie HuaiSang's breath hitches, and he struggles to separate that sudden, intrusive thoughts from his thoughts. He doesn't want to die. Even if he knows things would be easier for him and everyone if he wasn't here, Nie HuaiSang doesn't want to die. Nie HuaiSang's entire body shakes. He closes his eyes shut, and forces himself to take a long, shuddering breath. It hurts, but it helps, and so he does it again, and again, and keeps them until he successfully pulls himself from his spiraling thoughts.

"Excuse me, gongzi," a soft, gentle voice calls out to him. Nie HuaiSang turns his head towards the door. The movement makes a new wave of pain spread out from the scar on his neck. He wonders if the after effects of Sandu will ever disappear. "I brought your medicine."

"You can come, Nie-daifu," he answers after a while. The momentary preparation does nothing to diminish the pain.

Nie-daifu opens the door. She is a middle-aged woman of sharp features and relentless personality. For her, her truth is absolute and any attempt at questioning it is nothing short of a personal attack. She is even worse than Nie MingJue at that aspect, possibly the main influence as to why his brother is that way.

She helped raise Nie HuaiSang after his mother's passing, though. Nie HuaiSang's heart is full of love and gratefulness for her for it.

"I assume the pain didn't diminish," she says after taking a long look at him. Nie HuaiSang gives her a small, troubled smile. Nie-daifu sets the tray she's carrying on the bed. Aside from the medicine, a bowl of warm congee and green tea lie on it. "Here, let me check your qi."

Nie HuaiSang extends his arm. A new wave of pain spreads through his body at the movement. Nie-daifu doesn't miss his wince. She presses two fingers to the inside of his wrist and carefully feels for his spiritual pulse. A sigh escapes her lips. "It didn't get better, either."

Nie-daifu reaches for the medicine. She opens the bottle and lets two pills fall on her palms. Nie HuaiSang knows they were made from medicinal herbs cultivated on the top of the highest mountains in the area in such a way that it absorbs the energy of heavens and earth. Then, their most experienced healers grind the usable parts of each herb into powder and compress the power until they turn into sturdy pills. They're as expensive as some of the more refined elixirs due to the long cultivation and preparation period.

Usually, pills like these would only be used in emergencies and only by the most accomplished cultivators of the main family. In the case of Qinghe Nie, that would make them nearly exclusive to Nie MingJue himself.

Being given these pills on a daily basis gives Nie HuaiSang mixed feelings. He appreciates the effort. He really, truthfully does, but he also feels like it's a waste of resources. His spiritual energy is low enough it barely reacts with the energy imbued in the pills, and that not counting the fact that it barely helps. Even a younger disciple could make better use of it than he does now.

"You're thinking too much," Nie-daifu scolds him with a frown on her face. She doesn't need to ask to know what he's thinking about. Nie HuaiSang is sure it's written all over his face either way. "Please, remember that your body wasn't the only thing harmed by Sandu. You need this more than anyone else in this Clan does now."

That's right. Nie HuaiSang's spiritual power was already weak, but the problem took a turn for the worse after that day. Along with the wounds on his body, Sandu also severed several meridians and set his qi flow into a hazard spiral. It took weeks before Nie HuaiSang was out of risk of having a qi deviation. The cost to reach such a state was too high: his meridians will never flow in the same directions as other humans' do, nor can they reach his legs anymore. The damage to his meridians sealed Nie HuaiSang's fate to never walk again.

The healers have hope that these pills will help his qi flow better—enough to help easing the pain on his body. Though skin and flesh healed long ago, it feels as though Nie HuaiSang still feels like there are gaping wounds all over his body. The pain is only exacerbated by movements, but even at times when he's completely unmoving, it still hurts immensely.

He swallows the pills dry, and downs most of the tea immediately after. It only does so much to relieve the bitterness. "Do you really think Sandu was corrupted, daifu?" he asks.

Spiritual weapons are all equal in one thing: they all have a spirit, a sentient being, and that being can and is easily affected by its wielder. Sword spirits and spiritual weapons that run down generations are especially susceptible to this influence. When they reach a breaking point, they become corrupted and start affecting their victims in ways far more dangerous than just the cut of a blade.

Sandu didn't just hurt Nie HuaiSang's body. It also hurt his qi, and possibly his mind as well. He is sure it did, for he can't possibly conceive another explanation for some of the thoughts he has been having since. It's like a poison slowly spreading over him, inflicting a pain so deep and unbearable he feels like he'll never truly recover.

However, Sandu is a sword forged for Jiang WanYin alone. It has never had another master nor met the intentions of another. Nie HuaiSang also doesn't think it's been by Jiang WanYin's side much long. He is just sixteen, after all, and most cultivators only get their swords around thirteen or fourteen.

How could a high-grade spiritual sword be corrupted so thoroughly in the spawn of mere three years?

Nie-daifu closes her eyes. The side of her temple throbs with a building headache. "I do not know. The Yunmeng Jiang Clan has not responded to any of our inquiries."

Nie HuaiSang already knew. It only makes him feel incredibly dispirited.

The fastest way to undo the harm done by a corrupted weapon is by cleansing the weapon itself. When the root is gone, the plant cannot grow anymore and eventually will cease to exist. Nie HuaiSang's increasing pain would fade in time if they managed to cleanse Sandu.

There are only two ways to cleanse a corrupted weapon, however, two rituals created by an ancestor of the Gusu Lan Clan that was shared with the rest of the cultivation world. The first ritual is the fastest method, but it needs the collaboration of the weapon's owner to happen. It cleanses both the weapon and the owner's heart at once, preventing more unnecessary harm in the future.

The second ritual can be done without the owner's presence, but it takes years of collective effort to reach a satisfying result. The weapon would stay in the hands of a third party in this scenario, which means the owner needs to either be dead or voluntarily surrender their spiritual weapon. And, if the owner gives it up voluntarily, it's just easier to take the first route to begin with.

And, from the looks of things, it's not like the Jiang Clan or Jiang WanYin will comply and let the other Clans take over and examine Sandu. It is a losing battle, Nie HuaiSang knows.

He just hopes that, maybe, things won't get much worse from what they are like now. That the pain won't grow much more, and that he eventually reaches the point where he can push through it. Popo used to say that the pain she felt with her advancing age was nothing compared to the boredom of living through the same every day. Nie HuaiSang knows he's not nearly as strong as Popo was, but maybe, maybe he can reach that point too.

He'll push through the pain to live, and then he'll make the arts he loves so much again.

This small, flickering hope is what makes him go through the meal. It's what makes him endure the cold distance his brother put between them.

Nie HuaiSang will thrive where no one managed to. An artist that draws from his pain, a sorry excuse of a cultivator that somehow stands with his head high, a proud man on a wheeled chair among people mounted on flying swords.

A small smile curves his lips. Yes, that image sounds fantastic.

His thoughts are cut short by hurried footsteps. Nie HuaiSang raises his gaze to meet the newcomer. It's the Head Disciple of the Nie Clan, Nie Mao. He and Nie HuaiSang have been good friends for years now. Nie HuaiSang admires him and appreciates his presence more than anyone else—especially since the incident.

Nie Mao swallows visibly. His face is all red from the running, and his hands shake at his side. When he speaks, his voice sounds furious. "An emissary from Qishan Wen arrived."

Nie HuaiSang's stomach drops. Last time he heard about the Wen Clan, they were conquering several small Clans around the Qishan and Yiling area, spreading their territory and increasing their manpower with scary speed. They are yet to say anything about the Gusu Lan Clan, but it was known that they held a huge festival a week or so ago. Nie HuaiSang, and perhaps the entirety of the cultivation world, has no doubt that the event was made to celebrate the fall of the Lan, as well as the successful dominance of countless other Clans.

It's sickening to the core, what Wen RuoHan is doing to their world.

"And?" demands Nie-daifu. Her face looks paler now and her frown is deeper than Nie HuaiSang ever saw it. "Don't just give half of the news and stop there! What do they want now?!"

Nie Mao glances at Nie HuaiSang. His voice trembles, "They want twenty disciples from each Clan. The heir included."

Nie-daifu snarls. It's an ugly sound, closer to a wounded animal than a human. "Our gongzi is injured. He cannot go anywhere."

"We told them. Nie-zongzhu is still screaming in the main hall, threatening to behead each and every one of them for the audacity," Nie Mao says. Nie HuaiSang can imagine the scene all too clearly. His brother's temper has never been easy to deal with. It will only get worse the more he's forced to deal with the Wen Clan. "But they said they will come back with an army if we don't meet their demands. I—"

"Take me there."

Nie-daifu and Nie Mao both look at him, shock and surprise clear in their eyes. Nie HuaiSang is shocked himself. He can't remember a time in his life when his voice sounded so resolute and strong as it does now.

It's almost like the voice of a leader.

"Gongzi, you can't—"

"What I can't do is let my brother make things worse, daifu." Nie HuaiSang pushes his upper body into an upright position. It hurts, it hurts more than anything he ever experienced in his life, but all he does is grit his teeth and endure all of it. He reaches a hand to Nie Mao. "You'll have to carry me, Nie Mao. Please."

Nie Mao looks between him and Nie-daifu. Forced into a place where he needs to choose between his duty as a disciple to obey the heir of his Clan and his worry as a friend whose injury only seems to get worse by the day... Nie HuaiSang doesn't know if he'd be able to make such a choice in Nie Mao's place.

But Nie Mao is stronger than he is. He kneels before the bed, his back to Nie HuaiSang. In the end, duty won in his heart.

Nie HuaiSang holds firmly onto Nie Mao's neck as his friend lifts him from the bed. Nie Mao walks in large steps, marching down the hall with impressive speed for his height. It's both a blessing and a curse for Nie HuaiSang, but, in the end, he can't think too much about it. There's no time to.

"Zongzhu!"

"Please, don't do anything harsh!"

"Think of your position."

"He's trying to anger you on purpose, damned dog!"

"Let go of Baxia!"

"Hahahaha—Why try to stop him? Let him come!"

"Let's see what will be of your pathetic Clan when our Qishan Wen is done with you."

"I'll kill you!"

"Da-ge!"

All voices stop at once. Nie HuaiSang feels like his heart is stuck on his throat. The main pavilion is a mess of greens and reds, angry faces and smug smiles. Nie HuaiSang shivers at the sight of the Sun embroidered onto red and white clothes. His body feels cold as he takes in Baxia, already fully unsheathed and oozing with killing intent. Nie MingJue is well known for his decisiveness and stability even on the battlefield faced with the worst of monsters. Nie HuaiSang has always admired his brother for it. It's a sign of a power that he'll never have in this life. But, right now—the hand holding Baxia is shaking.

A flurry of voices suddenly implodes in the room. Disciples and cultivators with familiar faces hurry to Nie HuaiSang's side, effectively forming a human shield between him and the Wens. There's no hesitancy in their actions, their priority shifted from stopping their leader from committing a mistake to keeping their heir safe no matter what.

The realization that these people would do anything to protect him despite him being so against everything their Clan stands for makes Nie HuaiSang's throat tighten and his eyes burn.

He doesn't cry. He can't cry, not in front of the enemy. Just this one time, Nie HuaiSang needs to be strong.

He calls again, "Da-ge." Nie MingJue slowly raises his eyes to meet Nie HuaiSang's. He wonders what his brother sees now. Does he see a reason for shame? Someone to protect no matter the cost? Nie HuaiSang doesn't know. He's unsure if he wants to find out. "Gege, please, calm down."

Nie MingJue's eyes harden again. He looks away, glaring at the Wen emissaries who still watch the situation with disconcerting smugness. For them, this is all a big show, the entertainment of a lifetime. They do not care if Nie MingJue does end up killing them. Maybe, they are hoping for it, if only so that Wen RuoHan has an excuse to destroy the Qinghe Nie Clan.

As if Wen RuoHan needs an excuse at all, Nie HuaiSang thinks bitterly.

"Go back to your room," Nie MingJue orders in a harsh voice. It would have been enough to scare away Nie HuaiSang in the past, when his legs were still able to carry him to somewhere safe and distant from his brother's anger. But Nie HuaiSang can't run anymore. And so, he has no fear. "Who even let you out?!"

"I don't need anyone to let me out," Nie HuaiSang throws back without thinking. The rebuttal seems to take everyone off-guard. It's uncomfortable, to have so many eyes staring at him at the same time. He continues, ignoring them all. "Do not forget that I will inherit the Clan one day. Of course I want to be part of these matters, da-ge."

The hand that holds Baxia lowers a little. Nie MingJue stares at him, eyes wide and mouth slightly parted. Nie HuaiSang hasn't seen such an open, almost vulnerable expression on his brother's face for a long time now. The last time was when their father passed away.

For some reason, seeing it like this doesn't make him feel happy or accomplished at all.

A bark of laughter echoes in the room. The Wen emissary claps his hands mockingly at them. The ends of his beard is so frizzy and ugly Nie HuaiSang feels bad for every single criticism he had against Lan-xiansheng's goatee.

"Good, good, continue on like this!" The emissary says in a cheery voice. His companions have similar smiles on their faces, painting a rather grotesque figure to look at. Nie HuaiSang wishes he had his brush with him. He'd love to paint something out of this. "To have an invalid for a heir, the Nie Clan won't even need help to disappear. It's already set for fall!"

The tips of Nie HuaiSang's nails dig into Nie Mao's shoulders. Suddenly, he feels very tempted to prove him wrong. He wants to become the best leader the cultivator world will ever hear about and bring renovation and honor to his family. All in his own way, without the weight of a saber cutting his future short.

Can he even do that? The doubt clouds his heart for a moment. Then, Nie HuaiSang shakes his head. It's not a matter of whether he can do it, but that he will do it, regardless of whether he ever finds some sort of cure or not.

He is truly a pampered, spoiled and petty brat—all words Jin ZiXuan once used to jokingly describe him, yet Nie HuaiSang keeps them close to his heart.

"I will be most honored to attend to your camp." Nie HuaiSang smiles at the emissaries reunited at the pavilion. His smile is sharp, but serene, as though he stands at the top of the world and has nothing to worry about at this point anymore. The smile makes an almost eerie contrast with his unkempt appearance. "I am sure that, as the greatest Clan of the current times, your Qishan Wen will have all the accommodations needed to house an invalid like me. Otherwise, oh, my, what a shame it will be on your name. Don't your think so?"

Beard Emissary's smile fades away. His face slowly turns red and his expression is one of barely contained anger. Nie HuaiSang wishes he could say he wasn't enjoying each and every single one of his reactions.

"Very well. We'll await you at Qishan a week from now. You better be prepared, Nie-gongzi," he practically spits the words. His disgust does nothing to affect Nie HuaiSang even as he watches the Wens turn around, mount on their swords and leave the Unclean Realm for once and all.

A small, relieved breath escapes him when he realizes they're gone. It's done. A disaster was avoided—at the cost of Nie HuaiSang's more than likely demise in the near future.

"Why did you do this?" For the first time in years, his brother's voice doesn't sound angry at him. Nie MingJue doesn't look at him. He's hiding again, hiding from Nie HuaiSang and from the world. "I could have ended this myself!"

Nie HuaiSang's lips tremble. He swallows past the lump in his throat. "Da-ge... Please, know that I love our Clan. Don't force me to be the reason for its destruction."

To finally say the words out loud, to admit his feelings towards his home in such an open, direct and honest way, Nie HuaiSang feels as though a great weight was removed from his shoulders. Nie MingJue averts his gaze. Then, he glares at Nie Mao. "You!" he says through gritted teeth. There's a fire burning in his eyes that makes him look especially scary right now. Nie HuaiSang can hear the moment Nie Mao swallows. "Protect him at all costs, do you hear me?! Bring him back home!"

He doesn't say anything more. The cultivators and disciples that so valiantly stood as a shield in front of Nie HuaiSang—and, by consequence, Nie Mao—all let out a sigh of collective relief. They throw Nie HuaiSang short, nervous glances before they hurry out, probably back to doing their assigned tasks and prepare to send out the disciples.

Nie HuaiSang purses his lips. He rests his forehead against Nie Mao's shoulder. The pain got worse with the effort. He's suddenly unsure if he can, actually, endure the travel to Qishan.

"Sorry," he whispers. Nie Mao is now in charge of keeping him safe from the unbeatable Wens. That burden couldn't be farther from being easy. Nie HuaiSang feels bad for it, even if, he knows, there's no other option. Between his life and the life of his Clan and, most importantly, the life of his brother, Nie HuaiSang's choice is clear. "You'll have to deal with me for a little more."

He can't see Nie Mao's expression from this position, but he can tell his friend's voice tilts up with a smile. "It's okay, little bird. We'll make it work."

Nie HuaiSang closes his eyes. His body grows heavier by the second, and his skin seems to burn. But it's okay. They will make it work. They will get through this together. For the sake of their family... They have to.

To say that Yu ZiYuan is furious is a major understatement.

She glares at the paper in her hands. A short, dismissive letter with equally short and dismissive instructions: We, from the Wen Clan, are worried about the education the new generation is receiving. All Clans must send twenty disciples, including the heir, to Qishan by the end of the week.

All Clans. There is no sign of a direct address to Yunmeng Jiang Clan at all aside from the fact that the letter arrived at Lotus Pier. It is probably a standard message towards all Clans alike. Something servants copied over and over without any conscious thoughts of who they were for.

The sheer disrespect...!

Her hand tightens around the paper. The letter instantly goes up in flames with a surge of spiritual power. Yu ZiYuan raises her gaze to look at the disciple standing in front of her. The boy is shaking from head to toe, sweat rolling down the sides of his head and neck in copious amounts. His bow is far from satisfactory, lopsided and unsteady.

Even though she brought the best teachers available in her natal Clan months ago, these Jiang disciples are still nothing short of useless! There's nothing she can do to salvage them. A waste of resources is all they are!

"Leave."

Just one word and the disciple scrambles away. He wouldn't even make for a good prey. No beast would find pleasure in hunting down someone so clumsy and inelegant.

She huffs. For once, the Wen Clan has a sensible reasoning behind their actions. These brats could certainly do with a more rigorous teaching. Otherwise, who knows what will be of the future when they take over and rule. It'll be nothing short of a disaster.

"A-Niang," Jiang Cheng calls. He stands with his back perfectly straight and his face set in a stern expression. His clothes are the dark purple of the Jiangs, but the style is more resemblant of Meishan Yu. She feels as though she's looking at a slightly distorted mirror of herself. Jiang Cheng really is her son through and through. "What are you going to do?"

Yu ZiYuan averts her gaze harshly. "What do you think I'll do?! Of course I'm going to send you over." The incident at Cloud Recesses is still too fresh in her memory to let her act rashly. And, above that, she's yet to conquer enough support within the Jiang Clan to be able to challenge the Wens without suffering a backlash from them. She needs to gain their loyalty first. "You're the Head Disciple. I'll leave the choice of the remaining disciples to you. Don't mess it up!"

Jiang Cheng bows his head. "Of course, A-Niang." Then, he straightens himself again. The pommel of Sandu catches the light and reflects it right onto Yu ZiYuan's Zidian. "What about A-Jie? Did Jin-furen send more news?"

"That child!" Yu ZiYuan's hands close into tight fists. Her nails dig into the skin of her palms. "She refuses to come back. Can you believe it? She always preached familial love and duty and whatnot yet she's the one abandoning all of us for her selfish wishes! To think my own daughter would do this... Disgraceful!"

"It's all Jin ZiXuan's fault!" Jiang Cheng sneers. His expression could almost be said to be unpleasant; Yu ZiYuan knows her own is exactly the same. "He thinks he can do whatever he wants just because he's a Jin. Doesn't he know what those peasants are saying on the streets? He's ruining A-Jie's reputation for nothing!"

Yu ZiYuan has heard the comments, as well. Words of Jiang-guniang being too shameless in her advances, seducing her own fiancé so long before the actual marriage ran through every street and corner. They almost make her want to laugh. Her A-Li, a seductress! As if that child would have the courage to! No, her daughter is a meek, weak coward. She has nothing of Meishan Yu in her.

She is nothing like her mother.

"Let it be, A-Cheng. She'll come running and groveling for forgiveness the moment the situation changes again." Yu ZiYuan's lips curve into a twisted smile. She can imagine the sense all too well. The question is, will Yu ZiYuan forgive her when the time comes? "Now go and get everything ready. I won't admit it if you fail to make a good impression on those useless Clans."

Jiang Cheng doesn't answer. He simply bows again and leaves in quick steps. Efficient and resolute. Yu ZiYuan feels a spike of pride for this son of hers at the sight of him. Not that she will ever tell him that. His cultivation is still considerably low in comparison to disciples of other Clans, such as Lan WangJi. She can't allow him to go lax in his training just because he was praised once.

But she will forever hold those feelings of pride and love close to her heart. Jiang Cheng is her son through and through. The only child she is proud to call hers, the one who fully embraced the values of her family.

She turns around. Twin sets of footsteps join hers the moment she crosses the door. Yu ZiYuan only looks ahead of her, ignoring the servants that scramble out of her way and the disciples who hold their breaths out of fear. She makes her way to one of the farthest buildings of the Clan. This one is surrounded by high walls and the visible windows are only big enough for maybe a toddler to go through. When Yu ZiYuan reaches the entrance, a servant with the clothes of Meishan Yu unlocks the door.

Yu ZiYuan enters the building. There isn't much in terms of furniture. A plain bed, a small tea table and an empty bookshelf surmise everything there is to see. A folding screen keeps a wooden bathtub out of view. Clothes are carelessly thrown over it. Some of them are dirty with blood. Unsightly.

"Until when are you going to lie there?" she all but spits the words.

The man lying on the bed barely moves at the sound of her voice. He remains with his back turned to her, unmoving and uncaring about the world. Blood seeps through his pale sleeping clothes, making a long red slash across his back. Yu ZiYuan's eyes narrow at the sight of the blood.

The last fight between her and Jiang FengMian is said to be an ugly, violent sight. Some believe the event was nothing short of a bloodbath that left both sides just away from death itself. The hatred between them stewed for too long; now that it reached the boiling point, it's only right that things got out of control.

They are all wrong. And that's perhaps what infuriates Yu ZiYuan the most.

There was a fight. Jiang FengMian came back from Gusu pale faced and eyes full of heartbreak. He ordered Jiang Cheng to kneel in the ancestral hall and told the disciples to bring out the discipline whip.

Yu ZiYuan saw red.

How dare he! How dare! Jiang Cheng, A-Cheng, is her son. Her child, her own flesh and blood. So what if he got into a fight? Kids get into fights all the time! It's not like Nie HuaiSang died! How can the Nie heir's comfort be worth more than A-Cheng's? How can it be fair that A-Cheng carries the mark of shame for the rest of his life when nothing was his fault?!

That's right. None of it was his fault. It was all the Lan's fault, who failed to provide him with everything A-Cheng needed to be well. It was Nie HuaiSang's fault, for being so weak he couldn't defend himself!

It was Wei Ying's fault.

Oh. Of course. Of course Jiang FengMian would rather punish A-Cheng so cruelly. He's not Wei Ying, the rogue cultivator the entirety of the cultivation world is singing high praises for. He's not the son of CangSe-sanren, who Jiang FengMian loved so dearly to the point of searching for her son for years on end.

Of course.

Zidian was in her hand before she knew it. That whip was given to her by her mother, and to her mother by her grandfather, and to her grandfather by his mother—a treasure left for them by the founder of the Meishan Yu Clan, a heirloom that, one day, she will give A-Cheng, and A-Cheng will also pass it on when the time comes. Zidian knew Yu ZiYuan better than anyone in this world. It knew exactly what to do to make her wish come true.

No one could stop Zidian. Jiang FengMian didn't even have a chance to defend himself. He fell to the ground with a muffled scream. The smell of his blood curled together with that of burned skin; the screams of the cultivators around them were nothing compared to Zidian's threatening static.

It was only one slash, one single hit, and yet Jiang FengMian was unable to move or breathe properly for months. His wounds would reopen often, unable to fully heal regardless of the strength of his golden core. The doctors didn't know what to do to help him, so they moved him to a safe place, instead. Somewhere he could heal and meditate in peace, without the worries of the Clan weighing on his shoulders.

The only way to grant Jiang FengMian that kind of reprieve was by giving Yu ZiYuan full control of Lotus Pier.

It's been months now, and yet Jiang FengMian still shows no signs of improvement. Yu ZiYuan would be tempted to believe that he's deliberately stalling his own recovery if it wasn't for one of her trusted servants, the healer who helped raise her and her sisters, didn't confirm herself that Jiang FengMian's situation is nothing short of precarious.

Yu ZiYuan reaches to touch Zidian. The metal of her ringer is cold against her skin. She fidgets with it for a moment, allowing her anger to subside with it. "A-Cheng is preparing to go to Qishan Wen now. Did you know? They're demanding disciples to be sent from everywhere to be taught in their lands. As if burning down Cloud Recesses wasn't enough, now they dare boss around the Major Clans as well!"

She lets out a bitter laugh. The sound of it echoes in the small room. The anger flares up once again, this time against Wen RuoHan. Yu ZiYuan remembers seeing the man from afar in their younger days. He was elegant and poised, owner of a sharp beauty and perhaps one of the strongest cultivators of their generation, if not the strongest. She admired him, back then, but he despised her. When she married into the Jiang Clan, Wen RuoHan came to offer his felicitations. Yu ZiYuan will never forgive the mocking smile he had on his face as he wished Jiang FengMian the best of survivals.

She couldn't say anything back then. She can't say anything now. All she can do is comply with that madman's whims and wishes, lest he doubles down to destroy her and everything she holds precious.

Yu ZiYuan looks at Jiang FengMian's unmoving body. She snaps. "Didn't you hear me?! Your son is going to that place. Who knows what atrocities they will do to him? He could die! Are you hearing, Jiang FengMian?!" Her lips tremble. Her gaze falls on the single object lying on top of the table. It's a half-written letter. She immediately knows it's mean to Jiang YanLi. "If you're talking to A-Li, at least do something right and tell her to come back home! It's the least you can do, after everything!"

She turns around. Yu ZiYuan closes her eyes. She focuses on the sounds coming from outside, the muffled voices that tell her that life continues going on in Lotus Pier. She rejects the absolute silence that reigns in this small, bare room. Jiang FengMian is just sleeping. Ignoring her and his problems, as he always does.

Maybe he's dreaming of her. Would that be a good dream? Perhaps. She doubts it, but she can pretend. And A-Cheng, maybe he'll grow to appreciate his son through his dreams. Maybe. A-Cheng would be happy, if he gets the attention of his sorrow excuse of a father.

"A-Cheng will depart tomorrow," she says in a low voice. There's no strength left in her to argue. There's no one to continue being angry at. Jiang FengMian won't answer her. "At least come to see him. He could use some fatherly love."

Jiang FengMian doesn't appear the next day. Yu ZiYuan watches Jiang Cheng leave with nineteen boys in tow, only her trusted maids to keep her company as she watches one more member of her family leave her behind. She doesn't let the melancholy take over her. She is the Madam of Lotus Pier now. She'll be damned if she lets this place fall behind the other Clans even more.

She raises her head and turns around. Her movements are elegant but strong. There is nothing to be ashamed of. There is not to fear beyond the horizon. The Sun is far away. It can't do anything to her.

Yu ZiYuan will not fall.

After everything that happened, Jiang YanLi thought she had gotten used to separations. They're a part of life, whether they're physical or not. She has separated from her mother and brother long ago, the difference in their worldviews too great to allow a harmonious relationship. She parted from her father, who failed to answer her last letters; Jiang YanLi fears the worst might have happened to him. It's exactly that fear that stops her from going back home.

A Lotus Pier without A-Die... Jiang YanLi isn't sure she can endure that kind of pain.

And now she's separating from someone dear one more time.

It's only been a few days since the incident with Jin-furen. Jin-gongzi—no, A-Xuan changed since that day. He's still a proud, flawed man, but he's trying, and that alone means the world for her. Jiang YanLi doesn't just hope anymore: she can see a future where they are happy together. She never thought they'd come so far, nor that this moment of happiness would be cut short so fast.

Jiang YanLi finishes pouring soup into a bowl. These bowls are sealed, making them good enough to carry soup without issues. Several bags and baskets are already filled to the brim with snacks, water and enough food for a full week's worth of meals. It's not much. Jiang YanLi wishes she could do more, but she's only one with twenty young men to cook for. Who knows if the Wen Clan will give them enough food during their stay. Jiang YanLi needs to make sure they eat as well as possible.

Her mind inevitably wanders back to Lotus Pier. Her shidis must be going to Qishan right now, too. Did they pack enough food? Do they have enough talismans and items to keep the danger away? What about A-Cheng? She hopes he'll keep his temper under control. The situation is stressful enough as is. She doesn't want to imagine what will be of them if they start fighting between themselves.

A disaster, a small voice in the back of her mind quickly supplies. Jiang YanLi doesn't know whether to laugh or cry at it.

"A-Li?"

Jiang YanLi turns around. Jin ZiXuan stands on the kitchen's door. His clothes are refined and elegant, so luxurious they make him look completely out of place here. He is a master through and through; the kitchen is not a place he can naturally be at.

And yet, he seems to be coming here more often recently. Jiang YanLi believes this to be the third or fourth time since that day with Jin-furen. Jin ZiXuan comes here for her.

She smiles at him. She can only hope it's enough to hide the sadness within.

"Are you already going?" she asks. Jin ZiXuan nods. "I see. I made enough for everyone. For your travel."

Jin ZiXuan's eyes widen slightly at the sight of food. Jiang YanLi wonders what he is thinking. Anxiety coils around her like a cold embrace. Did she overstep? Is he mad at her? Maybe they already had someone else cook for them, and—"Thank you."

Jiang YanLi blinks. Her shoulders relax slowly. She lowers her head a little. Her bangs cast shadows onto her face. "I'm sorry I can't do more."

Jin ZiXuan shakes his head. His ponytail is getting longer. When he moves, the tips of his hair brush against his shoulder blades. "You're doing everything you can." His voice sounds soft to the ears. He doesn't look at her. His cheeks look redder than usual. "Your everything, no matter how small it may seem to an outsider, is already more than I could ask for."

It's never been this way, before. No one ever said that in the past. Jiang YanLi's everything was never enough. Her performance was never satisfactory enough. She was always lacking no matter how much she tried. And, in the end, wasn't that okay? Even if dissatisfying, her future was already set in stone. She would marry out of her Clan and be the main asset in a strong alliance. As long as she lived, as long as she could fulfill at least this one duty, it would be fine.

She didn't realize until now how much she craved for a bit of reassurance.

"Come home safe," she pleads. Jiang YanLi doesn't know what she'll do if she loses Jin ZiXuan too. It's not just about her future anymore—it's her present, the love that grows everyday with his presence, the comfort he gives her that no one managed to before. "Come back to me, A-Xuan."

Jin ZiXuan hesitates. A moment later, his hand touches the top of Jiang YanLi's head. It's a gentle touch, one meant to reassure and comfort. His voice sounds a little weird. Awkward. He really is no good with feelings, but he's trying. "I will."

Jiang YanLi nods. She wipes her eyes with the ends of her sleeves. She puts a smile back on. "Can you help me bring the food to the gates? I don't think they'll be happy to be forced to come here."

She is sure, Jin ZiXun would throw a fit over having to step in the kitchen. Jiang YanLi doesn't know him very well, nor does she have any intention to. The man seems to reunite all the bad characteristics she's ever heard people claim Jin ZiXuan had without any of the good ones. If possible, she'd rather not provoke him at all.

"Of course," Jin ZiXuan agrees easily.

He reaches for the bags and pouches at once. He freezes in place when Jiang YanLi lifts the baskets all on her own. She looks at him questioningly. Jin ZiXuan pointedly looks away. He mutters something under his breath, but Jiang YanLi can't understand it.

They walk side by side. Jiang YanLi focuses on Jin ZiXuan, on the fact that he is here, close and real and safe, and everything else becomes a blur in her mind. She's vaguely aware of the disciples accepting her parting gifts with awe in their eyes. She knows every single one of them—with the pointed exception of Jin ZiXun—take their time to thank her and promise her to take care of their Dashixiong.

Jiang YanLi still has a smile on her face as she waves them goodbye. The moment they are gone, that smile disappears.

Nightless City is a small realm within the mortal realm. It is massive in size and unique in infrastructure. It is always bustling with activity, from street merchants to pleasure districts to the external training grounds of the Qishan Wen Clan. What truly sets it apart from the other Four Major Clans is the lack of mortals in the city. As if the arrogance the Wen Clan holds over the other Clans isn't enough, it considers itself too high and mighty to meddle with the common people.

It is an absurd concept if you stop to think about it. And the worst is... it wasn't always like this. Wen Ning grew up among streets full of mortals and non-cultivators. They tended to be the kindest people around, aside from the ones of his family branch. Seeing them being driven away by Wen RuoHan's soldiers a year ago filled Wen Ning's heart with pain. Instead, now it's smaller, vassal Clans and rogue cultivators who run their own businesses to fill the economic and operational gap. All of them cultivators of one path or another.

It was wrong. Cultivators are supposed to protect those who can't fight on their own. For him, to send those people away is nothing short of rejecting the very meaning of being a cultivator and all the teachings left behind by their founder.

Wen Qing was distraught at the sudden change. It only became worse with the attack at Cloud Recesses and now with the sudden summoning of all disciples from other Clans. Wen Ning doesn't know why this situation unsettles her so much, but he can tell that Wen Qing isn't about to just accept it, either. He caught his sister writing letters late at night too many times for it to be a coincidence.

He raises his head, and stares at the multicolored sea of disciples. He finds the whites and blues of Gusu Lan with ease. The one standing at the front has jade-like features and carries a silver sword on his back. That must be Lan WangJi. Wen Ning heard so much about him it's a little like seeing an old friend. Still, he does not dare approach him. It's not only because of his shyness, but because he knows it would be insensitive at best, their circumstances considered. Wen Ning hopes Lan-er-gongzi will be alright.

Following his line of sight, he finds a group in golden robes and eyes filled with fury. Wen Ning saw them arriving. Each and every Jin disciple had a number of bags on their hands, each of them filled with food and medicine. They were forced to leave all of it behind at the gates. From their reactions, it seems whoever prepared those provisions meant a lot for them. That, or they're just angry over being ordered by servants of another Clan. No matter which it is, the hatred they have against Qishan Wen is clear enough.

Wen Ning's gaze immediately falls on the outstanding group in purple. A chill runs down his spine when his eyes meet Jiang WanYin's. At least, Wen Ning is sure that man is Jiang WanYin. He is the only one with an expression so absolutely filled with hatred that's able to match Wei Ying's description of him.

For once, Wen Ning is grateful for the many, many people reunited on this training ground. Otherwise, he fears, Jiang WanYin would have done way more than just glare at him from afar.

He turns around only to trip on something. Wen Ning's foot throbs with pain, but it's the other person's pained groan that worries him the most.

It's a young master in muted green tones with golden accents. Bandages are wrapped around his neck, and his skin looks sickly pale. Wen Ning failed to notice his presence because the boy is sitting down. It takes a closer look to realize that it's not a normal chair, but one that stands on four wheels. It's way smaller than the ones Wen Ning saw illustrated in Wen Qing's books, and it looks as though someone built it with improvised materials that were laying around in the training ground.

"S-S-S-Sorry! A-Are you a-alright?" Wen Ning's heart beats faster with fear of somehow offending this person.

Wen Qing was emphatic in her commands: help where you can, protect them if possible, leave a good impression on the ones who have nothing left.

The young master smiles at him. "I am fine. Thank you for worrying, Wen-gongzi. Sorry for your foot."

Wen Ning shakes his head. The title feels wrong when spoken in this place, so close to where Wen Chao and Wen Xu are. "I-It's nothing. B-But g-gongzi looks in pain... If, if you want I-I can t-take you to a d-doctor."

The boy's eyes widen a little. He opens his mouth to answer, but the person behind him beats him to it. "Would you really? Really, really? Aren't you Wens all bad?"

"Nie Huang," the boy on the wheelchair reprimands him softly. He gives Wen Ning an apologetic smile. "Apologies again. My shidi has been in a foul mood since we arrived. It's nothing against you in particular, Wen-gongzi."

Wen Ning shakes his head again. "I d-do-don't mind. It's a s-stressful s-situation for e-everyone." He swallows through the lump in his throat. More disciples in green—from the Nie Clan, now he knows—come closer. Wen Ning feels like he's being cornered by a group of beasts and they will kill at any wrong movement towards their leader. "M-My sister... S-She's a d-doctor. Y-You m-might have h-heard of h-her."

Nie-gongzi's eyes narrow slightly before realization dawns upon him. "Your sister is Wen Qing?"

A small smile curves Wen Ning's lips. He can't help the pride swelling in his heart. His sister is truly amazing. Even someone from the Nie Clan, a Clan that hates the Wen Clan above all others, knows of her accomplishments! Wen Ning can't wait to tell her about this when he comes back later.

At his nod, Nie-gongzi's shoulders relax. He suddenly looks so tired it's hard to believe it's the same young master from a minute ago. "I see. I heard Wen-guniang specializes in studying the golden core and its qi flow, is that right?" Wen Ning nods again. Nie-gongzi purses his lips. His voice drops an octave. "Do you... Do you think she'd be able to do something about the effects of a corrupted weapon?"

Wen Ning freezes. He doesn't know. He never heard of anything on that topic from her. In fact, he barely heard anything about her research in the last months. It makes him feel a little uneasy, for he knows Wen Qing can't possibly be doing nothing all this time.

His sister is planning something. Something bigger than anything they ever saw. And given Wei Ying's absence in the last weeks, Wen Ning can only imagine he is in it with her.

He thought he'd feel bad about being left out by the two of them. Wei Ying isn't their brother in blood, but he knows more about Wen Qing than Wen Ning will ever know. He should feel some jealousy at the very least, shouldn't he? It's the normal reaction to have. And yet...

And yet Wen Ning is just happy his siblings can rely on each other.

"I'll ask her for you. If it's within her abilities, I assure you jiejie will do it." The words come out slow and firmly. Wen Ning is so focused on trying to convey his sincerity that he fails to realize that, for the first time in years, he didn't stutter even once.

Nie-gongzi takes in a sharper breath. His lips curl into a soft smile. "You have my gratitude, Wen-gongzi."

"I-If t-there's anything I c-can do f-f-for you..." Wen Ning glances nervously between the other Nie disciples and Nie-gongzi. They don't look as threatening anymore, but he's still wary.

"We had our provisions confiscated when we arrived," one of them speaks out. His uniform is different from the rest of them. The Head Disciple, Wen Ning assumes. "HuaiSang's medicines were taken with them. They are unique and made especially to help with his condition. So if you could..."

"I-I'll t-take them b-back!" Wen Ning's voice is resolute. There's no room for doubt. He cannot turn his back on Nie-gongzi now that he knows of his struggles. He also wants to fulfill his sister's request to the best of his abilities.

Nie-gongzi seems to want to say something, but his words are cut short by a huge commotion. Wen Ning looks around in search of the origin of those sounds, only to find Wen cultivators hurrying towards the place where the Jiang disciples were moments before. In the heart of the fight, Jiang WanYin swings his sword. Red sword glares meet Sandu head on. More people join in on the fight, righteous screams echoing in the training grounds.

The disciples from the Nie Clan all hiss at the sight of Sandu. They instinctively stand in front of Nie-gongzi—Nie-gongzi, whose expression turned into something colder than stone. Multiple sabers unsheathe at once.

Wen Ning swallows past the lump in his throat. He takes a step back, and another, and another, until he stumbles upon someone. There's no time to apologize. Wen Ning doesn't have enough presence of spirit to worry about such a thing. If his understanding of the situation is accurate, those attacks are not meant to contain those disciples, but to kill and destroy. And, among the Wen cultivators, Wen ZhuLiu stands.

No matter what, Wen Qing needs to be aware of this. And so he turns around, and breaks into a full run.

Chapter 5

Chapter by HikariNoHimeWriter

Chapter Text

There are three things Wei Ying knows for sure. The first, Emperor's Smile is still the best wine he's ever tasted in his lives. Second, he is in love with Lan Zhan. Third, there is another leak in this twisted version of the world he was born in. It's so obvious Wei Ying wonders why it took him so long to realize it. Maybe it's because the leak was careful not to draw attention to themselves while still pulling the strings behind the curtain. Maybe there is another factor to it altogether.

The fact of the matter is that this leak has been around for a long time now, perhaps even as long as Wei Ying himself has been. And they slow and subtly nudged the entirety of the cultivation world towards the wrong direction.

Who was the first Clan to point out Wei Ying's absence from Yunmeng all those years ago? The Yueyang Chang Clan, notorious for being a direct subordinate to the Qishan Wen Clan. What Clan convinced all others to stop pursuing Wei Ying? The Wen Clan. What Clan showed no fear against Wei Ying's activities as the nameless child and was the only that didn't lose, but gained more disciples? The Wen Clan. The abyssal monsters Wei Ying dealt with? All of them appeared near Qishan or were directly pulled away from Qishan. When the fallout between Lan, Jiang and Nie happened, the Wen Clan was the only one who steadily grew in manpower and wealth, leaving the Jin Clan way behind.

Everything from the very start worked towards empowering the Wen Clan. And now, the Gusu Lan Clan fell and all disciples were summoned to Qishan in the timespan of two weeks at most, the biggest divergence between the two timelines. The purpose behind it is clear enough: to shut down the Sunshot Campaign before it starts.

Only one person has both the power and retains all the benefits from this manufactured reality: Wen RuoHan.

To say that Wei Ying is furious is a major understatement.

For one, he never wanted to be sent back to the past. He just wanted to rest in peace and drift around until whatever deities out there deemed him good enough to reincarnate. Really, that was more than enough for him to be content, knowing he did everything he could in life. But nope, an asshole had too much time on their hands and decided to cast a forbidden spell and as if that wasn't enough, they had to cast it incorrectly.

Wei Ying would understand if it was just him. The time-reversal spell is an ancient creation deteriorated and fragmented by time and forgetfulness alike. It took years before Wei Ying could make sense of the entire array and the incantations needed to make it work. In a situation like that, mistakes are bound to happen. Wei Ying himself doesn't know if he'd make it work properly if he were to try it.

But this is way more than just a small mistake. There are at least three people who remember the entirety of their other lives, and probably countless others whose actions and feelings are being influenced by the echoes of the memories that survived the spell. This is downright incompetence at this point. Ridiculous. Absolutely stupid. If only Wei Ying knew who dared to do this, he'd take his sweet time exposing every single mistake on their face!

... Probably. He's not sure he'd actually do it. He's better than that and, unlike his dear anonymous friend, Wei Ying has more important things to do than making others miserable.

For example: he needs to stop Wen RuoHan.

Again, Wei Ying is overcome with anger at his own slowness to realize and fury at the incompetent spell caster. Not only did they make Wei Ying's life way harder, they just had to hand knowledge of the future to the worst person possible.

"Stupid!" He lets out all his frustration with this one shout.

ZhiRuo turns her head towards him. "Is it that bad?"

Of course, there's no way ZhiRuo could know of his disparaging thoughts. She's referring to the letter sent by Wen Qing. It burned its way to him just as he watched Lan XiChen cross the gates of Cloud Recesses. It was folded into the shape of a paper bird: on one side, the heavy strokes of a talisman spell—one Wei Ying created himself in order to have instant and efficient communication with his siblings—and one the other, Wen Qing's delicate calligraphy. The words, however, were short and disconnected, summarizing the situation so much it started to make no sense: Attacks. Jiang. Fight. War. Prisoners. Injured disciples. Not Lan Zhan. Wen ZhuLiu.

Thankfully, Wei Ying received enough letters from Wen Qing in the past that he's able to decodify the message hidden within it easily. And, yes, the situation is that bad. Perhaps, even worse than he believed them to be initially.

He nods at ZhiRuo. The bell tied to his father's sword chimes with the movement, conveying the motion well to the blind ghost. "Something went wrong in the indoctrination camp. A fight started, though I am not sure of the reason, and some of them were injured. At least one of them lost their golden core. But Lan Zhan is fine."

His voice sounds normal, but he unconsciously flinches at the mention of the golden core loss. He didn't realize how much of a sensitive topic it became for him until this untimely reminder.

If only Wen ZhuLiu didn't melt Jiang Cheng's core back then, Wei Ying would've never lost his own. Though he's aware that things wouldn't dramatically change—there would be little to no avoiding being thrown in the Burial Mounds, and being in the Burial Mounds would result in him coming back with the ghostly path no matter the circumstances—the small changes would already have been enough for him.

With a functional golden core, nights in the Burial Mounds wouldn't have been so cold and days without eating wouldn't have been so harsh on his body. He would be able to use talismans again, ones meant for protection and warmth and safety rather than the ugly distortions he created to use with his ghostly cultivation. He could have taken A-Yuan to fly on the skies of Yiling and see the child's smile each time.

It wouldn't have fixed anything. It probably wouldn't have been enough to change his tragic end, either. Wei Ying knows that for it wasn't the lack of his core that ultimately took his life: it was his willingness to go against the voices of the crowd and do what's right with no care for social standings the responsible for his death.

If given the chance, Wei Ying knows he'd do it all again in a heartbeat. Now that he has the choice and the power to do it, he will make sure that future never comes to be in the first place.

He shakes his head slightly to focus back in the present. He stops walking as soon as hard rocks give way to soft earth. He kneels on the ground, and starts drawing an array. His voice sounds soft when he speaks: "Wen RuoHan is preparing to launch a full war against the Clans. They will likely start with the Jiang Clan."

Or, at least, that's what Wei Ying supposes Wen Qing meant with the Jiang in her letter. He doesn't know what else it could have meant. And it does make sense in a way. The Jiang Clan isn't that far from Qishan, and the Jiang Clan is notably weaker from what it used to be just a year before. While it still retains the power to consider itself one of the Five Major Clans, it's clear that they are at disadvantage.

Besides, Wei Ying is sure Wen RuoHan remembers how easy it was to conquer Yunmeng Jiang. All they had to do was make sure Jiang FengMian was away from home for a few hours to completely overtake Lotus Pier. The biggest contributor to their victory was Yu-furen's own hatred and arrogance.

Wen RuoHan also probably intends on holding the young masters hostage until he is done—he won't give the Clans any chance to make a move lest they cause the deaths of their own disciples. The perfect political advantage. No human being within the cultivator world will be able to safely kill Wen RuoHan and stop his plans.

Wei Ying is suddenly glad for the deal he made years ago.

"Say, ZhiRuo... Your family was originally from Yingchuan, wasn't it?" Wei Ying asks her carefully. It's an idea that's been building in his mind for a while now. ZhiRuo specifically refuses to go anywhere near Yingchuan with him, and Wei Ying also knows that her family name was Wang. "Did you have a daughter called Wang LingJiao?"

ZhiRuo is a ghost. She can't breathe, nor show the typical body reactions human beings are capable of. Her image flickers slightly at the mention of that name, like rippling on a calm water's surface. Her expression grows solemn. It's all Wei Ying needs to know he is right.

He doesn't have enough information to piece the entire story together. All he knows is that ZhiRuo was born into a respectable family with wealth and comfort, from her usual clothes. Somewhere down the line, she descended into a simpler life, probably due to her marriage. She was attacked during sleep. A kidnapping? Maybe. It's also likely that whoever did that didn't kill her right away. No, Wei Ying is sure that they took their time, torturing her every day and night for a long time, long enough that her ghost forgot what it's like to be able to see.

Her body was discarded somewhere near Moling, never able to be properly buried and forgotten for eternity. Or, at least, that's what Wei Ying wants to believe. There are few reasons why someone in such brutal circumstances would become a ghost rather than rise as a fierce corpse. The most likely is if the body is destroyed to the point the spirit fails to recognize it as their own.

Wei Ying forces that thought out of his mind. ZhiRuo may be unparalleled strong and resentful for a pure ghost, but she's a good person. She loved and cared for Wei Ying for years on end, giving him everything he needed to continue marching on. He wants to believe that ZhiRuo at the very least had the mercy of dying as a complete corpse just as he wants to believe her family had nothing to do with her death.

It is useless, however. Wei Ying knows Wang LingJiao and what she's capable of doing. Wang LingJiao has nothing of ZhiRuo in her, so her awful, unscrupulous personality must have been nurtured by her father. Wei Ying wouldn't put it behind them to harm ZhiRuo if they so much as found it convenient enough.

"I will go to Qishan now. But—if I'm right—Wang LingJiao will be among the cultivators going to attack Lotus Pier." Wei Ying finishes the array. He stands up with his back straight and looks at ZhiRuo. "You're free to do what you must."

ZhiRuo remains silent for a long, chilling moment. Then, she nods slowly. She makes no mention of following Wei Ying. "Thank you, baobao. For everything."

For everything. Wei Ying purses his lips. Ghosts shouldn't be on Earth forever. They are tied to this world through unnatural, brutal means, and deserve to be released. ZhiRuo deserves to rest, too. If finding LingJiao helps her find the release she needs to move on, then Wei Ying can only pray that this mother of his will have a peaceful afterlife.

He cups his hands, and bows deeply. "Thank you for everything."

His voice is already shaking. Wei Ying sucks in a sharp breath and activates the array. The last thing he wants is for ZhiRuo to think she cannot depart due to his own weakness. He wants her to move on... Even if it hurts inside. So he lets the array take him somewhere else, somewhere full of scorching suns and a thousand problems to solve.

The last thing he sees of ZhiRuo is a smile. And, for now, it has to be enough.

Luo QingYang thought her Clan to be merciless and unnecessarily vitriolic in the past. Now she knows it's nothing compared to the Qishan Wen Clan.

She wasn't nearby when the fight imploded. Luo QingYang only realized things were getting worse when she heard the commotion, and only realized how far worse could go after the Wen cultivators shoved all of them together into what is nothing short of a prison and she saw first hand the ugly wounds covering the bodies of the Jiang disciples. However, it wasn't the sight of the wounds that filled her with terror, but the quiet cries of the one who looked like the youngest disciple.

"Here, shidi. You can punch me. Do it harder. It's okay. You can do it. Just use all of your power, alright?" One of the older ones encouraged the weeping boy. The youngest disciple did as said, but not a single sparkle of spiritual energy filled his punch. The Shixiong looks heartbroken, but his smile doesn't falter. He continues whispering soft encouragement to the youngest disciple.

But no matter how much they try, it's clear that that disciple no longer has a golden core.

Luo QingYang's gaze snaps up to find the Head Disciple of the Jiang Clan. Jiang WanYin stands a good distance from his shidis, his face contorted with cold fury. His hand opens and closes near his hip right where his sword used to be. He shows no concern whatsoever for his own Shidi's situation.

"Are you sure of it?"

"I told you before! Jiang WanYin pushed his Shidi in front of Wen ZhuLiu during the fight. I saw it with my own eyes!"

"But then he used his own Shidi as a meat shield?"

"Disgusting!"

"Is this what they do in Yunmeng Jiang? Sacrifice their disciples for the sake of their heir?"

"Of course it's not Yunmeng Jiang. Have you not seen his clothes? He's more Yu than Jiang now."

"Isn't Yu ZiYuan also incredibly volatile? I heard the people of Lotus Pier are terrified of her command."

"How could Jiang-zongzhu allow this? Will he just stand aside and let his family's name be dragged on the mud?!"

"Didn't he stop appearing in public after a fight with Yu ZiYuan? I heard some people saying he might as well be dead now..."

Luo QingYang's frown deepens with every stray whisper that reaches her ears. She feels sick to her stomach. Somehow, she can't help but hope that the rumors are right and that Jiang-zongzhu has passed away. Even death is more merciful than seeing everything his family worked and fought so hard for crumble right in front of his eyes.

She looks away from the infuriating image of Jiang WanYin. Her eyes are immediately drawn to the group of youths dressed in white. One of them stands with difficulty, hands grabbing the ends of his large sleeves with so much force the knuckles turn white. He is beautiful like jade, but looks pained to his very soul.

The perfume pouch in her sash feels heavier now. Perhaps one of the herbs she collected will be able to help him. Luo QingYang certainly doesn't have any better use for them, anyway, so maybe—

She hesitates. She heard stories about the Lan Clan, stories about their commitment to propriety and devotion for their rules. Luo QingYang is afraid of making a mistake and offending them somehow.

However, the shadow of a smile comes to the forefront of her mind, along with the echoes of a laughing voice and encouraging words. I'm sure a strong girl like you will be more than alright by yourself. That's right. Just like that strange boy came and gave her so much more than she could possibly ask for, Luo QingYang also has the power to help others and make their lives easier.

She takes a step forward. And another, and another, and her heart beats faster the closer she gets to the group of Lan disciples. They don't stop her from approaching their young master, simply throwing curious glances at her.

Luo QingYang takes out the perfume pouch and offers it to the one she assumes can only be Lan WangJi. "Here. For your wounds, Lan-er-gongzi."

Lan WangJi looks at her for a long moment. His expression doesn't change, but his eyes seem to glisten with recognition. Strange. Luo QingYang is sure they've never met before. She would remember if she knew someone like him. And yet—something deep in her heart tells her she can absolutely trust Lan WangJi.

He accepts the pouch with a deep bow. Luo QingYang can't stop the shock that fills her heart in waves. She's a servant, a woman, someone to be looked down upon and ordered around. Not a single person from her Clan bowed to her once; at least, not with honesty in their hearts.

How come it's Lan WangJi, someone who stands at the top of the cultivation world, who grants her this courtesy?

How come Lan WangJi is the one who reminds her of that nameless boy so much?

"What is your name?" he asks in a deep yet soft voice.

She can only answer to that voice with the truth: "Luo QingYang."

Lan WangJi nods. He says a few more words before they part ways. Luo QingYang finds that, indeed, this person and that boy are truly alike. Their behavior and appearance are complete opposites, but the kindness in their hearts and the righteousness that guide their actions are the same.

The words Lan WangJi gave her, Luo QingYang will hold them all close to her heart.

Forever.

Wen RuoHan has always known power.

It was inevitable. His ancestor, Wen Mao, was the one who set the precedent of Clans over Sects, and because of him the Wen Clan was founded on the privilege of coming first and ahead of all else. To hold onto and nurture this advantage was the goal of all the Clan Leaders that came after Wen Mao... Until Wen RuoHan.

Why content himself with most when he can have everything?

Conquering lands and expanding his domain over other Clans was far too easy. They are nothing against the power of Qishan Wen. They're terrified of him, yet eager to be able to enter his Clan. They wish him and his Clan gone, but have no courage to strike back. At least, they didn't have that courage for a long time, all up to the point when enough was enough and their fear of destruction was overwhelmed by the hatred in their hearts.

Wen RuoHan has memories of what happened the moment they united to dethrone him. It wasn't their numbers and their union that won the war, but the actions of two people that led to that decisive ending.

One of them is that son of a prostitute, the ungrateful brat Wen RuoHan took in only to be betrayed in the end. He hated him, then. He still does now, but there's something else, a sense of admiration for the fierceness of Meng Yao. He knew what he wanted and wasn't scared of backstabbing his allies to achieve his goal. Ruthless and merciless, cunning and scornful. He and Meng Yao are truly alike.

The other is the child of CangSe-sanren.

Wen RuoHan admittedly doesn't know enough about Wei Ying to make a proper assessment of his personality and motives. All he knows is that Wei Ying was the determining factor in the Sunshot Campaign. Without his army of undead, there's no telling when or if those stupid Clans would win.

He wonders what happened with Wei Ying after the war was over. Did they treat him like a hero for the role he played in the battles? At first, perhaps. Wen RuoHan is familiar with the way the gentry thinks. They are like easily distracted children: the moment something new happens, they completely forget everything they were doing before. The moment Wei Ying stepped out of line, they must have turned on him like wolves. Maybe he was even more vilified than Wen RuoHan himself, a heartless, ruthless monster whose greatest crime was not being of noble birth.

Wen RuoHan betted everything he had in this new life into the hatred Wei Ying was sure to hold against the Clans in this unexpected second life. A risky gamble it was, although one with high rewards if he was proven right. And so he urged the Clan Leaders to stand back and observe.

Wei Ying didn't interfere with the Clans for the first years. He stayed a safe distance away from their political gambles and focused on doing whatever pleased him most. It was an even better outcome than Wen RuoHan could have expected.

Then Wei Ying decided not to restrain himself to the outskirts of the cultivation world anymore. He became inexplicably close to the Gusu Lan Clan and that Lan WangJi of theirs. Wei Ying shared his inventions with them and gave Gusu Lan the tools they needed to improve and increase their power. At that rate, no one would be surprised if Wei Ying chose to join the Lan Clan.

To have Wei Ying become so emotionally close to one of the Five Major Clans was nothing short of dangerous for his plan. Wen RuoHan intended on following the same timeline he lived through the first time, certain that Wei Ying wouldn't come to stop him this time. But now there was a connection, and Wen RuoHan was already too late to successfully nip it in the bud.

So he did the next best thing he could think of: burning Cloud Recesses a full year earlier than the original events and forcing all disciples to come to his Clan mere weeks after. He's sure Wei Ying wouldn't have been able to predict that. He was proved right when his subordinates returned with news of their success.

Wei Ying wouldn't have allowed that if he knew it was about to happen.

Wen RuoHan smiles. He rests on his throne, eyes closed and posture relaxed. He doesn't need to open his eyes to know he's not alone. He knows exactly who it is.

"Took you long enough, sanren."

His voice echoes through the hall. There are no guards nearby. Wen RuoHan doesn't need them. He's stronger than all of them together, it just defeats the point. And no matter how powerful Wei Ying may be, Wen RuoHan has no fear of him either.

There is no way the golden core of a self-taught child can be stronger than the one Wen RuoHan cultivated over the span of decades. His other cultivation is useless here, as well: Wen RuoHan made sure to clear the entire Nightless City of resentful energy months ago.

There is nothing to fear.

Wei Ying huffs. "So you figured it out."

In truth, it didn't take long for Wen RuoHan to connect the dots and figure out who the nameless child really was. He also could tell that Wei Ying had memories of his other life from the mere fact that he chose the company of ghosts over living humans.

It really was just that easy.

"The only thing I do not understand is why," Wen RuoHan confesses. He opens his eyes, and blinks. He doesn't know why, but the sight of Wei Ying throws him off a bit. Perhaps it's the fact that he looks young and smaller than he should. The black and white clothes make him look incredibly solemn for a child his age. "This can only be the spell I collected in my Sun Palace. Your Sunshot Campaign won. Why would you use it after everything?"

"I'm sure I have the answer for that one, Wen-zongzhu." Wei Ying shakes his head. He's leaning against one of the windowsills. The slight breeze makes his ponytail look even more messy. "Because of me."

Wen RuoHan's eyes narrow. He tries to think of the changes he noticed in this timeline. The first major change could only be one: Wei Ying was never taken to the Yunmeng Jiang Clan. Why? The spell caster probably wanted him to disappear. A child shouldn't be able to survive for long alone in the streets and even if they do, they'd be too focused on surviving to worry about cultivation.

His theory of Wei Ying becoming the next enemy of the cultivation world, a villain to be destroyed and cursed for all eternity, suddenly becomes even more likely.

Really, what a fun little world they live in. One day you're the hero, another you're the scum. Wen RuoHan knows that far too well.

Unlike Wei Ying, however, he chose to be the villain.

"If that's the case, I shall not inquire any further. I'm sure Wei-sanren is already busy figuring out who the culprit is." Wen RuoHan stands up. His shadow stretches on the floor, a distorted image of himself. "My only question is, what will you do now?"

Wen RuoHan knows there's not much choice left for Wei Ying. Either he fights and wins, or he leaves and watches the world burn under Wen RuoHan's hands. Truthfully, Wen RuoHan would much rather not have to deal with Wei Ying at all, but he knows it's just wishful thinking.

There's no way Wei Ying will simply step down after the attack at Cloud Recesses.

He adds: "I have already sent Chao-er to Lotus Pier. It's not too late to stop the attack, however..." The moment Wei Ying leaves, Wen RuoHan will kill every last one of the disciples he imprisoned. And that includes Lan WangJi, who he seems to have become so infatuated with recently, almost to the point Wen RuoHan wondered if they're not dual cultivation rather than going on simple Night Hunts.

Whether it is or not, he doesn't really care. Not anymore, not when he's so close to having everything he dreamed about.

"Lotus Pier is not my home anymore," Wei Ying says, his voice filled with a sense of finality. A lifetime ago, Wei Ying went against the Wen Clan for revenge against the destruction of that place. Interesting. Things truly change fast. "Whatever happens to them, it is none of my business."

Oh. Wen RuoHan doesn't miss the pain in Wei Ying's voice, nor the barely perceptible pause in his words. It's not that he doesn't care about Lotus Pier and its inhabitants anymore; it's simply that the people he cared about the most aren't there anymore.

Jiang YanLi never returned home, and Jiang FengMian may not even be in this world anymore. Finally, after so many years struggling to survive life with his wife, Jiang FengMian is no more.

Pathetic, Wen RuoHan thinks. If only he had been smarter, he could've gotten rid of Yu ZiYuan a long time ago. A life without needless suffering, where he could care for and teach his children in peace—he could have had it all, if only he didn't hold onto his stupid morals so tightly.

Wen RuoHan is nothing like him. He is nothing like any of them. And that's why he will succeed.

"I have two requests to make, Wen-zongzhu. Grant me these favors and I promise I will never raise my sword nor my dizi against you and your soldiers in this life."

"Oh?" Wen RuoHan looks at Wei Ying for a long moment, searching for any trace of lie in his words. He finds none. For some reason, it makes him feel even more uneasy inside. "And what are they?"

"First, you won't stop me from releasing the prisoners in your Clan. I do not ask for you to remove the guard around them; you just mustn't let anyone follow us nor try to ambush us." Wen RuoHan nods. That is not unreasonable. And if it gets Wei Ying out of his way forever, then there is nothing to complain about. Wei Ying continues: "And, second, you'll make a decree within the next hours saying that every Wen who does not agree with your goals and methods are free to leave. You won't attack them for leaving, but they will be forever deserters and enemies."

Wen RuoHan exhales softly: "That way, in the off-chance that I am still defeated in the future, the Clans will have no grounds to claim them as enemies by association." His lips curl into a smile. It's a dark, cruel smile. "Do you really think this will stop them, Wei-sanren? You, more than anyone, must know how unreasonable they can be."

Wei Ying smiles back at him. His smile is humorless and weary. "This isn't about them, though, is it? What I want is your promise."

"Very well. Consider your wishes granted. I hope you honor your word, Wei-sanren."

Wei Ying's smile grows into a grin. It looks cheery in an almost innocent way. It looks completely out of place on his face at this moment. A chill runs down Wen RuoHan's spine.

"I will."

To say that Nie HuaiSang is furious is a major understatement.

The provisions Nie-daifu so carefully packed for him are gone. There are several disciples from different Clans wounded, the worst damage done to the ones of the Jiang Clan. The smell of sweat, blood and countless other odors mix together in the small prison, giving him a headache. There are so many people packed together here that it's hard to breathe, with no more than a few cun of personal space for each of them. However, they now all press together into an uncomfortable lump of bodies just to stay as far away from the center of the room as possible.

The reason? What else could it be but Jiang WanYin.

The youngest disciple of Yunmeng stopped crying long ago. The side of his face is still an ugly red color that slowly fades into a deep purple. The other Jiang disciples look at their own feet, shame, anger and hatred clear in their eyes. They can't do anything. Even without his sword, Jiang WanYin is still as much of a threat as always. His hatred knows no bounds and his temper makes him quick to anger, and his anger hurts everyone around him.

Nie HuaiSang is amazed at the realization that even this—indoctrination camp? No, he suspects it's something more like a death camp—isn't nearly as detestable as Jiang WanYin.

Nie Mao didn't let go of him for a single moment. Nie HuaiSang is glad for it. He fears he would have spiraled long ago without Nie Mao's comforting presence at his side. He holds onto his friend's hand with all the strength he has in his body, which admittedly isn't much, but it helps ease Nie HuaiSang's mind.

He closes his eyes and remembers the kind Wen-gongzi he met just hours ago. Nie HuaiSang wonders if that boy will fulfill his promise. He looked eager and honest enough. Nie HuaiSang figures he doesn't doubt Wen-gongzi's words, but whether the authority he has in the Wen Clan. There's nothing to be done if Wen-gongzi ultimately can't go against someone else's orders. Nie HuaiSang won't blame him for it, either.

The mere fact that he was willing to try is already way more than he could ask for. And, ultimately, it reinforces something Nie HuaiSang knew for a long time now. The Wens aren't all like Wen RuoHan. Some of them are kind and eager to help. Some, like Wen Qing, choose to save rather than kill. Some hate the deeds of the Wen Clan as much as the rest of the world, yet have no power to go against their leader. Rashly hating all of them as if they are the same will only lead to more mistakes and the loss of innocents.

The leader is not a reflection of the people. Isn't that true for all Clans? Nie MingJue is known for his foul temper and high regards to justice, yet the Nie Clan has also had its fair share of bad leaders and criminals. The Jiang Clan used to be an unrestrained Clan that focused on welcoming the common people, yet neither Jiang WanYin nor the current Jiang Clan present those characteristics since Jiang FengMian stopped leading the Clan. There are countless more examples Nie HuaiSang can think of right now.

But, in the end, it doesn't matter. Hatred is an emotion like any other, and emotions are called so because they know no sense or reason. As long as the people in power share the same contempt for the Wen Clan, there is nothing anyone can do to save the innocent Wens caught in this madness.

Nie HuaiSang doesn't want to be involved in such a fight at all. He has too much on his plate as is. So, unless he truly has to—he simply doesn't care.

"Jiang-gongzi, what did you say?!"

He raises his head at the sudden voice. Nie HuaiSang can't see who spoke first. His wheelchair gives him a rather disadvantageous point of view in situations like this; the disciples around him are all standing, making it impossible for him to see anything beyond the backs of those disciples.

Nie Mao stands up on his side. He is almost as tall as Nie MingJue. He can always see things easily. "It's one of the Jin disciples," he tells Nie HuaiSang. "Jin-gongzi's first cousin, if I remember correctly."

So it's Jin ZiXun.

Nie HuaiSang knew the people of the Jin Clan had issues with the Jiang Clan for a long time ago. Part of it was because of the engagement between Jiang-guniang and Jin-xiong. Jin-xiong's distaste for the engagement emboldened his peers in their dislike for the Jiang Clan. On the other hand, Jiang WanYin appeared to just not like anyone, and so their dislike of him turned into burning hatred.

He supposes they only remained courteous for so long for the sake of the alliance set in place by their madams. Nie HuaiSang thought that maybe with Jiang-guniang's permanence at Golden Carp Tower, the animosity between them would die down a little.

It seems he was wrong.

"Couldn't listen the first time?" Jiang WanYin's voice is but an ugly snarl. Nie HuaiSang winces at the sound of his voice. It brings back unpleasant memories. "Of course you couldn't. You Jins are all prickly assholes who only care about yourselves. Won't listen to anyone else, won't respect anyone else. Think you are that good, you scum?!"

"We respect those worthy of respect," Jin-xiong's voice echoes in the prison. He sounds calm on the outside, but Nie HuaiSang recognizes the slight tremble in his voice. Jin ZiXuan is angry, no, furious would be the correct word. "Now, please, stop. We're already like this. Fighting between ourselves will only make the situation worse for us."

Nie HuaiSang nods in agreement. He can't help but notice that Jin-xiong's admonishing is directed only at Jiang WanYin, however. Although it's wise to try to deescalate conflict, doing so while ignoring the role the people on your side played in it will only lead to terrible consequences. Either the other party will retaliate twice as fiercely for now there's an added antagonist force in the equation or the ones you're turning a blind eye to will get emboldened by this.

Jiang WanYin is the kind to retaliate first. "What? Are you feeling all high and mighty just because A-Jie chose to be with you? Ha! What good is that? She can do nothing either way. Enjoy your b—"

Nie HuaiSang doesn't need Nie Mao to tell him to know what happened. The sounds and the reaction of the people around is more than enough for Nie HuaiSang to understand it.

Jin ZiXuan punched Jiang WanYin.

Ah, what wouldn't Nie HuaiSang give to see it himself. However, he feels it would be rude to ask Nie Mao to lift him now and it would draw too much attention to Nie HuaiSang himself. The last thing he needs now is Jiang WanYin's attention to come back to him.

"Oh, shit," a voice whispers very close to Nie HuaiSang. He turns his head around quickly, cold fear filling his heart. Then, he realizes it really is just cold.

Because of his wheelchair, Nie HuaiSang was one of the last ones to enter the prison and he chose to stay close to the sliding door. That way, he can leave quickly enough that no one will trip on him should the Wens come to pick them up. The door that was locked until now is now open, and a young man stands with only his upper body inside. He was so silent that not even Nie HuaiSang noticed him until now.

The boy continues, either unbothered or uncaring about Nie HuaiSang's stare: "I can't believe I'm tempted to actually respect that peacock."

Nie HuaiSang has no idea what to say. Instead, he closely watches the boy. He carries a sword on his back with what is clearly a Yunmeng Jiang clarity bell. His clothes are black with white accents, and he carries a dizi on his sash. His face is pleasant to look at, sharp and soft at all the right places. If this person made it to the bachelor's ranking, Nie HuaiSang has no doubt he'd be in the top three. Maybe he'd even surpass Lan WangJi, if the charming aura Nie HuaiSang can feel coming from him is anything to go by.

This is exactly the kind of person he'd like to befriend if given the chance.

He clears his throat just as a clamor of voices reaches them. Of course, Jiang WanYin won't just accept that kind of humiliation lying down.

"Is it safe to assume you're Wei-sanren?" he asks.

Wei Ying looks at him, and grins. Nie HuaiSang notices a few drops of blood on his cheek. He must have fought his way here. "Right on the mark, Nie-gongzi. By the way, here." Wei Ying hands him a small bag. It has a moss-green color and golden embroidery that resembles a bird. "Wen Ning asked me to give it to you."

It's the qiankun pouch with Nie HuaiSang's medicaments. He holds it with trembling fingers. So Wen-gongzi fulfilled his promise in the end.

"Thank you. Is Wen-gongzi safe?" Nie HuaiSang needs to know. He'd hate it if Wen Ning got hurt for his sake when he had no obligation to help him.

"He's waiting for us at the foot of the mountain. Qing-jie is there, too. She said you better prepare yourself because she refuses to let you go without fixing whatever's going on with you first. Speaking of which..."

Wei Ying suddenly stands straight. He pushes the sliding door open all the way. It slams against the wall, the sound of it startling all disciples nearby witless. All heads turn towards the door. Wei Ying stands there with a big grin on his face. He takes a moment to look over the present disciples. Then, he looks again at Nie HuaiSang. He nods at his wheelchair.

"That won't be viable to go down the mountain. Someone will need to carry you." Nie HuaiSang nods in understanding. He tugs Nie Mao's sleeve. His friend looks at him. There's no need for more words. Seeing the silent exchange, Wei Ying turns his attention back to the crowd. "So, I'm sure y'all know who I am, so I'll skip the boring introductions. Here's the current situation: Wen RuoHan made a decree and as a result a good portion of the Wen Clan deserted. They are no longer affiliated to the Wen Clan and some of them decided to help. They are waiting at the foot of the mountain with all of your swords in hand. You'll be free to go back home if you so wish. However—"

He pauses, looks at each of them again and stops when his gaze nears the center of the room. Wei Ying's grin was fading as he spoke; now it completely disappeared. Nie HuaiSang glances at the same direction. He can't see anything beyond maybe the first two rows of disciples, but he feels it's the same direction from which Jiang WanYin's voice came earlier.

Wei Ying's father was part of the Jiang Clan before he became a rogue cultivator. Nie HuaiSang wonders if that's why he cares. Or maybe he's just disappointed at what they became. Or maybe it's both, and he just does not care about Jiang WanYin—his reaction to Jin ZiXuan punching Jiang WanYin certainly supports that theory.

Whatever it was, Wei Ying lets go of it quickly: "—Wen RuoHan already made his move. He sent troops to attack Lotus Pier. We're afraid there might be other Clans under attack. If you choose to go home right away, be prepared to face a battle."

Nie HuaiSang swallows past the lump in his throat. He thinks of his brother, his home, and prays to the heavens above that nothing bad will happen to them.

"You said you have our swords?" It's Jin-xiong's voice. Somehow, he made his way to the front. His right hand looks red, but there's no sign of injury on him. Jiang WanYin's attempt at retaliation earlier probably didn't harbor the results he expected. "And you're with Wens. How can we know it's not a trap?"

A reasonable worry, Nie HuaiSang thinks. One that is quickly shut down: "We can trust him."

That voice is low and deep, soft and pleasant to the ear. Such few words, yet no one would mistake Lan WangJi's voice.

Being one half of the Twin Jades of Gusu, Lan WangJi gained the reputation of being a respectable disciple, strong and righteous, an example to the others. The young masters in this small prison are no older than nineteen. Most of them have been compared to the Twin Jades at some point in time. How could they not believe Lan WangJi's words? If he says Wei Ying is trustworthy, then he surely is trustworthy.

Wei Ying shakes his head. "Ayiah, Lan-er-gege, don't tease me like this! Where are you? It's been so long, lemme see your face! What are you all standing around for? Go, go, go! I said everything I had to say, just leave already! Be courteous to Qing-jie and the others! They went through a lot of trouble to get your swords back. They could have died! Ah, there you are!"

Nie HuaiSang holds tight onto Nie Mao's back. As they make their way out of the small prison, Nie HuaiSang glances at Wei Ying's back. He's hurrying to Lan WangJi's side and, as surprising as the mere thought of it is to Nie HuaiSang, Lan WangJi looks relieved to see him.

When he looks at the path ahead of them, Nie HuaiSang sees a multicolored torrent of disciples and the occasional unconscious Wen cultivator here and there. They were defeated by Wei Ying, without a doubt. Nie HuaiSang can vaguely recognize the goldens of the Jin disciples and Jin-xiong running even further ahead. Jiang disciples run very close to where Nie HuaiSang is.

Jiang WanYin is nowhere to be seen.

Some people say that cultivation is the realization of a dream. The dream to live free of the fear created by the supernatural and enhanced by humanity's powerlessness against nature. They conquered their fears and reached the skies, finding family and acceptance in the form of Sects full of likeminded people. As such, it is no stretch to say that the advent of cultivation Clans is, too, a form of dream.

The Jiang Clan dreamed of a home guided by righteousness and freedom. To do the right thing, even if it's impossible—the words of Jiang Chi became the only rule the Jiangs should strive for.

Jiang FengMian failed to live by that rule. It's a little depressing to admit his failure. He failed to repay the life debt he had for his friends and save their child. He failed to keep his wife's hatred against the world from tainting Lotus Pier with fear and uncertainty. He failed to pass down the teachings of his ancestors to A-Cheng and make sure their Lotus Pier can still live up to that dream.

He failed in every and each possible way, regardless of his efforts. So, he thinks, it is only fitting that the Yunmeng Jiang Clan falls with him.

"Isn't it painful?"

Jiang FengMian glances at his companion. Her clothes are elegant and refined, and her face delicate and beautiful. He doesn't dare question why her eyes are closed. He supposes it would be rude, at least, and disrespectful at worst. He doesn't want to scare her away. It's been so long since he had anyone to talk with, he wants to indulge in the company even if for a moment longer.

"All things come to an end one day," he sighs. He knows it's not an answer, not really, but his companion doesn't mention it, and Jiang FengMian doesn't elaborate further. Instead, "You're not from these lands, are you?"

The woman smiles softly. "I'm not." She turns her face towards the pier. In the distance, Jiang disciples come out to welcome two unexpected guests. For them, those two people walked there alone; unbeknownst to them, several rows of enemy boats encroach in the horizon, waiting for an order to attack. "My daughter is here. I want to witness the end of her story myself."

To witness, not protect nor intervene. Jiang FengMian wonders that this ghost's relationship with her daughter is anything like his and A-Cheng's. There's enough affection in the ghost's voice it doesn't seem like she hates her daughter, but she's not willing to help either. It's certainly complicated, way more than Jiang FengMian's incredibly limited knowledge on the situation will allow him to comprehend. Nevertheless, he sympathizes greatly with her.

"Neither of my children are home. I'm glad that at least they will be safe." Jiang FengMian wishes he could say the same for his wife. It seems, his heart is still made of flesh and blood—no matter how much he tries, how much duty and conventions tell him it's the right thing to do, he cannot care about Yu ZiYuan any longer.

"I have met Jiang-guniang, once. She is a good person. Jiang-zongzhu must be proud of her." She smiles at him.

He is. Jiang FengMian unconsciously smiles back at the girl. He thinks of A-Li, his sweet girl, who is living at Golden Carp Tower. Jiang FengMian hopes she'll be able to find love and peacefulness there, with the partner she chooses for life. That she'll build the family she always dreamed of, in a place where she is safe and happy. Happiness, yes, that's what Jiang FengMian prays A-Li will find in her life... Even if he isn't here to see it.

Then, the ghost's expression turns sheepish. "I'm afraid I don't know enough about Jiang-gongzi, however."

That is a lie. Jiang FengMian doesn't know how, but he can just tell it. He supposes his friend—is it even appropriate to think of her as a friend after this short interaction?—does have strong opinions about his son, as everyone seems to have, but it too polite to say them to his face.

"A-Cheng is a difficult child. I fear for the future of our Clans in his hands. And yet—" And yet, even if he knows the complete fall of the Yunmeng Jiang Clan would be for the best, Jiang FengMian can't truly wish for it, not when he knows A-Cheng's feelings towards their home. "—I still wish him to thrive no matter what."

"Even at the expense of others?" His companion's voice sounds lower, almost solemn.

Jiang FengMian closes his eyes. Would A-Cheng be capable of hurting others for the sake of his goal? He thinks of Nie-gongzi, whose life was permanently damaged during A-Cheng's fit of madness. He thinks of A-Li, who always had to tiptoe around A-Cheng's foul temper for scraps of love and respect.

A-Ying, a voice that sounds too much like his own echoes in the corners of his mind, A-Cheng... You must take care of him.

Jiang FengMian opens his eyes. That life is not his, yet, somehow, he knows the weight of that crime will forever weigh down on him. The actions of his dream-like self would certainly have repeated themselves in real life should he have found Wei Ying all those years ago. Maybe, just maybe, it was all for the best.

Not having A-Ying at their side has, ironically, made them all different people. Jiang FengMian wants to believe it made him a better person, even if just a little. At the very least, he thinks, some mistakes were not made in his life. As for A-Cheng and San Niang, he wonders...

The sky lights up with a crimson flare. Jiang FengMian stares at the place he once called home. The Lotus Pier of today won't last for much longer, lost in the throes of hatred and flames.

He smiles bitterly. His eyes reflect the crimson signal flare lighting up the sky with the emblem of the Wen Clan. The fate of their Clan is already enough answer.

At least, A-Li and A-Ying... shall be free.

Yu ZiYuan is a strong woman. Her cultivation is high and her accomplishments in Night Hunts are notorious. She was born to a prominent Clan and married into an even more prominent Clan. She is beautiful. She has the grace of education and knowledge, the power to rule over that many others wouldn't have in her place. She was never left wishing for anything, for she had everything she wanted. She made them hers.

She changed Lotus Pier for the better. She brought in stronger people to make her cultivators stronger as well. Yu ZiYuan did everything she knew she should do, and persisted even in the face of adversity.

Who cares if a few disciples ran away? She doesn't need losers. So what if her way of doing things doesn't align with the Jiang Clan? They are nothing but cowards hiding behind the pretense of inclusion and beauty! Those things won't help in war. They won't keep anyone safe nor happy, for only power can guarantee victory.

She did everything right.

So why?

Yu ZiYuan grits her teeth. She glares at the person staring down at her. Wang LingJiao smiles gleefully despite her bruised cheek. Yu ZiYuan regrets only landing one slap. This hateful, hateful woman deserved way, way more.

"Let her be, JiaoJiao," Wen Chao sneers. He looks around the room with disdain clear in his face. He doesn't even look at Yu ZiYuan at all. "She's not worthy of your attention."

The words have Yu ZiYuan hissing in anger. How dare this man compare her to a filthy whore! Yu ZiYuan will never forgive it. Never, not even after she dies!

Wang LingJiao coos happily, hopping back to her master's side. Her voice is so high-pitched it is annoying. "But Chao-er, look at what she did to me! So shameless, she wouldn't hurt me in front of you, but the moment she saw I was alone and defenseless she bared her fangs. Like an animal, right?! And still she has the guts to say she's superior!"

Wen Chao pats her head, whispering flimsy words of comfort. His face is contorted in an ugly grin, however, his eyes betraying all the disgusting thoughts crossing his mind.

A Wen cultivator enters the room. He bows to his master, "We have secured all the treasures of Lotus Pier and transported them to our boats. The corpses were thrown in the lake as you instructed. Every one of them... Including Jiang-zongzhu's."

Yu ZiYuan freezes at those last words. No... No, no, no! She told the servants to not let anyone come close to Jiang FengMian's quarters. What are they doing? Were they truly so incompetent they died to these intruders? What about FengMian? Even in his state, he should, he should—

"Who killed him?" Wen Chao asks.

The cultivator shakes his head. "He was already dead when he arrived, gongzi. We estimate he was so for at least a few weeks now, based on the advancement of his body decomposition."

There's a long beat of silence. Yu ZiYuan can feel all eyes turning to her. She meets all of them with the full force of her hatred. She knows what they are thinking. They are all wrong. They don't know the full story. They don't know what Jiang FengMian was about to do, what Yu ZiYuan was trying to protect. They don't know how weak Jiang FengMian really was, that Yu ZiYuan did everything she could to help him recover.

They don't know anything. And yet they have the audacity to judge her. How dare—!

"I assume you also fulfilled your other orders?" The cultivator nods in response. Wen Chao grins. "Good. Excellent. Father is sure to be satisfied with our performance this time!"

His laugh echoes in the room long after he's gone with that hideous woman by his side. The dining hall of the Jiang Clan has never looked so dark and so empty at the same time. Yu ZiYuan wonders when it changed so much, or why she misses the liveliness of this room when she rarely shared meals with her family at all.

She tries to move, but it's useless. The deity-biding ropes are hard to undo on good days even for a powerful cultivator. In her current state, then, it is nothing short of impossible.

Yu ZiYuan stares at the only other person left in this room. Zhao ZhuLiu—no, it's Wen ZhuLiu now—stares at her impassively. She sneers, "Are you happy now? Following a brat like that and reducing yourself to a mere servant."

Wen ZhuLiu doesn't answer. He never did, not even when they were teens crossing paths during Night Hunts. Yu ZiYuan refuses to accept that a bastard like this man, who doesn't have pride nor opinions, thought himself worthy of destroying the one thing Yu ZiYuan was proud of and worked her whole life for.

That filthy hand ruined her cultivation and melted her golden core.

She hates him. She hates everyone. She hates this world that dared take everything away from her. She, who was promised everything—!

"Where is Zidian?" Wen ZhuLiu asks.

Yu ZiYuan grins manically. This, perhaps, was the best choice she made in this life of hers. The gift of her bloodline is safe in the hands of the only person who will know to treasure it as much as she has.

She doesn't answer. There is no time to, for the sky glows crimson for the second time that night. Wen ZhuLiu finally moves. His hand lights up with spiritual energy and he suddenly slaps one of the pillars. Yu ZiYuan watches in horror as the wood goes up in flames.

Why... Why are they burning Lotus Pier? Didn't Wang LingJiao say they would set up a supervisory office here? Isn't that why Yu ZiYuan lost her temper, why everything ended in such a way?

Was all of it a lie?

No... It can't be. That little whore would never come up with a plan like this. She couldn't say the word fabricating right, there's just not way—

But it doesn't matter whether or not she did it, or who did it, for there is no salvation for Yu ZiYuan anymore. No one will come to save her from the fire. Not A-Li, not A-Cheng, and certainly not Jiang FengMian. Alone, engulfed by the flames, such a fate caused by no one other than herself. And still, Yu ZiYuan still curses others for her predicament. She curses each and every one of them, from Jin GuangShan to Jiang FengMian to CangSe-sanren.

She curses Wei Ying.

Between commoners and stray cultivators, few people stayed close enough to Lotus Pier to witness the massacre of the Jiang Clan and its aftermath. The ones who did, however, heard the same wails no matter where they stood. They were pitiful and hateful at the same time, more like a wounded animal than a human.

They don't know what kind of creature could make such a sound. They will ever know who was it that perished under that fire. They'll forget Yu ZiYuan, too, was a human of flesh and blood.

And maybe, just maybe that's for the best.

To say that Wang LingJiao is satisfied is an understatement. She is delighted at how things turned out tonight, even though the left side of her face is still numb and not at all attractive. No matter! Wen Chao still looks at her with the same desire of before, and he, too, is proud of what she accomplished. Things are going well. Better than she could have hoped for, too.

It was a simple mission with a very simple goal: to enter Lotus Pier and destroy the Jiang Clan. They just needed an excuse for their sudden visit, something that allowed Wen Chao to go there and oversee the operation, too. It was pure luck that Jiang WanYin created a ruckus at the indoctrination camp and wounded some of their cultivators.

What better excuse for a visit than solving diplomatic issues caused by a brat?

Once inside, it was easy to tell that the Jiang Clan was in a state of pure decay. Without its leader and the respect of the populace and cultivators, it was a miracle it was still considered one of the Five Major Clans at all. Yu ZiYuan's foul temper shone through her polite facade rather quickly too—all because of the disdain she clearly felt for Wang LingJiao.

Oh, how easy it was to make that hateful madam lose her composure. All it took was to hear the confidence in Wang LingJiao's voice as she proclaimed the plans of the Wen Clan. She never mentioned that those plans were all things she shouldn't have known in the first place, secrets shared between the sheets of Wen Chao's bed, nor that they were something reserved for the Jin Clan only. The details were irrelevant, after all. The only thing that mattered was Yu ZiYuan's fury.

And furious did that woman get. She lashed out at Wang LingJiao, insulting her like it was her birthright to do so.

Hmph. Like she is much better than Wang LingJiao. What use is being born to a high and noble family if your personality makes you unlovable to all and the only respect you get comes from people who are just too tired to continue dealing with your unreasonable outbursts?

Such entitled members of the gentry are what Wang LingJiao hates the most.

She lies heavily against the cabin's wall. The boat she settled in is different from Wen Chao's. It is smaller and emptier than the others, just her and the disciple guiding the boat.

Which is why Wang LingJiao startles at the sound of a deafening thud following by quick, heavy footsteps. Wang LingJiao made sure to memorize what her boat companion's footsteps sounded like. This definitely isn't it.

There's an intruder.

She reaches for the golden hairpin Wen Chao gifted her—it's thin and sharp and just right for a defensive weapon. Still, it is no more than an accessory and Wang LingJiao is no cultivator. How could she rival with the speed of that purple-clad cultivator and the lighting that engulfed her entire vision?

Wang LingJiao falls to the floor in a pool of her own blood. She chokes for air that won't come, and wonders how come this is her end, alone in a small boat with no one to care for her corpse.

It's karma, isn't it? Karma for what she did to the lives of the Jiang Clan, for being complicit in defiling the corpses of those who died under her people's hands. Karma for betraying the trust of her master and bedding Wen Chao in exchange for money and riches and the right to cultivation Clan that never was and should never be.

Karma for being complacent with her mother's death.

Ah. Her mother. Wang LingJiao doesn't have many memories of her, but she knows Wang ZhiRuo was a gentle and loving woman. She vaguely remembers soft lullabies and soothing caresses. She remembers having big siblings ready to pamper her and a prominent house of her own.

All of them were gone overnight. Wang LingJiao didn't understand why her mother and her siblings disappeared, nor why she had to live as a servant with her father. She only figured it out many, many years later, during one of her father's drunken stupors, what happened to them.

She learned her siblings were killed quickly, for they were mere children and didn't deserve that much suffering. She learned her mother was tortured for days, weeks on end, tortured in the most brutal ways until she could no long breathe only to have her corpse discarded in some random ditch in Moling, never to be found again.

And yet, instead of being disgusted, instead of seeking justice for those who were her flesh and blood, Wang LingJiao turned to her father for help. She wanted to learn, and learn she did—to manipulate, to use her body in her favor, to gain more than life gave her. It all took her to where she is today.

Really, it's all karma. Wang LingJiao can admit it, despite the anger that it's too soon.

And yet—you are here?

Wang LingJiao never saw a ghost before. Her potential as a cultivator is really that low. And yet, she knows the one hovering above her can only be a ghost. A woman that resembles her but is, oh, so much prettier and kinder smiles at her. Not even the permanently closed eyes can take away from her beauty. When her hand touches Wang LingJiao's cheek, she can only feel warmth.

Oh. So this is the love of a mother. Even though she doesn't deserve it, even if her mother is in the right to hate her above every and anything...

"I'm sorry," she whispers into the silence.

Wang LingJiao closes her eyes for the last time.

Wang ZhiRuo releases a long-held sigh. The last string attaching her to this world is no more. She smiles, and thinks of her baobao and prays that Fate will be gentler to him from now on, that he can find the love and happiness he deserves.

A single boat slowly falls behind in the formation of Wen boats. Amidst the shouts and sword glares flying left and right in a vicious battle, no one notices it and no one will know what transpired within.

And just like that, Wang ZhiRuo can finally rest in peace.

Love without power is painful. Power without love is cruel. Actions without words are meaningless. Words with actions are empty. Justice without righteousness is corrupted. Righteousness without justice is inefficient.

Those are all things Lan WangJi was forced to learn early in life, and couldn't fully comprehend their weight until it was too late—too late for him to make any significant change, to make things a little bit easier and gentler on the one he wanted to help and save the most. He wished time wouldn't be so cruel, back then, that he could at least let go of the regrets festering his heart.

If only I could have told you... Such thoughts made it hard to fall asleep every day, more painful than the flesh wounds covering his body. The more he thought, however, the more he realized that it may have been for the best. Lan WangJi may not have known everything, but he knew enough to understand his feelings would only become another burden to be carried.

For all he loved, he still lacked the power to make everything alright.

And yet—

"Lan Zhan!"

—somehow, before he could even recognize the blessing he was bestowed with, Lan WangJi was given everything he could wish for and more. He is here. He's safe, alive, and stronger than ever. And, for that, Lan WangJi is grateful.

He wonders if something is different in him. Maybe he does look different, for the smile on Wei Ying's face dims a little upon a closer look. His voice doesn't sound as bright and lively anymore. Such a great loss, Lan WangJi needs to fix this.

"You remember."

It is not a question.

"Mn."

He answers all the same, for there is no telling when it could be the last time.

"Ah, how bad, I guess."

"Why?"

"Huh?"

"Why is it bad?"

Ever since he regained his memories, Lan WangJi never doubted for even a second that Wei Ying remembered. All things considered, it would be stranger if he didn't. Many things only make sense on the basis of Wei Ying's memories being intact. The nameless child rumors, his early usage of ghostly cultivation, the many, many changes in the timeline—an unsuspecting target wouldn't be able to change so much without knowing what should be changed.

And now...

Wei Ying swallows audibly. He doesn't look at Lan WangJi, scratching the back of his head nervously. "Ah, hahaha, y'know, I thought—Ah, that's not important now! How's your leg? It's hurt, right? Can you walk? Should I carry you?"

Lan WangJi exhales softly. The worry in Wei Ying's voice brings a prickling sensation to his heart. It's strange. Lan WangJi thought it impossible to grow even more in love with this man, but his body now proves otherwise. He wonders, is it because of the time he spent without his memories? Because he fell for Wei Ying all over again, this freer, happier version of the Wei Ying he knew?

He doesn't know. It doesn't matter either, for in the end nothing will change the fact that Lan WangJi loves Wei Ying. He always has, and always will.

Always.

"Don't worry about me," he says in lieu of an answer. The prison feels strangely cold now that all disciples left. "There's something more important. You need to know... The reason behind this."

Wei Ying's expression changes. His eyes look as though they're made of steel. "So you know why this world exists?"

"Mn." Lan WangJi closes his eyes for a brief moment. Unpleasant memories flash back to the forefront of his mind. "I'll tell you everything."

And whatever Wei Ying decides to do with that information... Lan WangJi will be by his side to the very end.

No matter what.

There is an old story that has been passed through the Wen Clan for centuries on end. The story of how their Clan, still young in its second generation, was almost wiped out by a legendary beast. The XuanWu of Slaughter is a name that still evokes fear in the hearts of all those with the Wen name. No one knows if such a creature still exists, nor where it disappeared to. Some people believe vehemently in its existence, and they go as far as to hunt it down through the many mountains surrounding Qishan.

Wen Ning never really thought about it before. But now, as he watches the city he grew up in drowning in the haze of fire and blood, he can't help but wonder why would anyone seek out that monster.

The XuanWu of Slaughter is worthy of every word of fear it elicited over the years. And now, that massive black creature marches towards the Sun palace.

There have been many losses. The Lan Clan, the Jiang Clan, and so many others who lost their territory and lives to Wen RuoHan's tyranny—all of them are being avenged tonight, the debt of those losses collected by the worst nightmare of the Wen Clan.

"We still need to deal with Wen Chao and his army," Wen Qing says in a detached voice tone. His sister is exhausted. These last days spent convincing their relatives to leave the Clan and the intense hours helping the captive guest disciples are taking a toll on her. Knowing that this is just the beginning leaves a bitter taste in Wen Ning's mouth.

"We won't, no," Wei Ying replies. His voice is just as tired as hers. He is sitting on a large rock, his shoulders lumped with exhaustion. Behind him, Lan-er-gongzi stands in silence. Wen Ning notices Wei Ying is leaning towards him; Lan-er-gongzi's fingers gently graze his temple. "ChiFeng-Zun is probably more than happy to deal with them himself."

Wen Ning doesn't question how Nie-zongzhu could possibly know about Wen Chao's position and deal with his small army. Wei Ying is as efficient as he is mysterious about his ways. Although... Wen Ning thinks that, perhaps, they are not as mysterious to Wen Qing and Lan-er-gongzi. It is just Wen Ning who knows nothing.

He trusts them. If they believe it is better that he stays oblivious, then he'll work hard into making up for his lack of knowledge by providing all the support he can.

It's only right.

"Do you think this will work?" Wen Qing asks. Her voice trembles slightly, the only sign of uncertainty and fear she showed so far. Wen Ning knows, it is all because Wei Ying is here. "That they'll accept us after all this is done?"

Wei Ying doesn't answer right away. His eyes are fixated on the massacre happening below, on the creature that came forth just for this one night. Wen Ning wonders what he is thinking.

At last, he sighs. "They will. We'll make them."

The confidence in his words can only be matched by one truth: tonight, the Wen Clan of Wen RuoHan falls under the jaws of a monster, and the Wen Clan of Wen Qing rises anew.

Chapter 6

Chapter by HikariNoHimeWriter

Notes:

And this is the end! This is officially my longest fic on Ao3 and one of my proudest works too. I had a lot of fun writing it, even with my ADHD brain and life getting in the way some times—not just because of the amazing and unique experience of seeing a story to the end, but also for the chance of meeting Baph as well. I wouldn't have come so far without their support :'D

To those who read this until here: thank you, and hope you enjoy this last chapter!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

"Did you hear? Wen RuoHan is dead!"

"What? How?"

"Could it have been ChiFeng-Zun? I heard he left the Unclean Realm for an expedition..."

"ChiFeng-Zun didn't do anything for years, what makes you think he would now?"

"Besides, Wen RuoHan's cultivation was immensely high. Even if ChiFeng-Zun found a way past the army residing at Nightless City, it wouldn't be easy for him to kill Wen RuoHan."

"As you said, he had a high cultivation, so he couldn't have died of a disease either..."

"That's right. Neither disease nor humans took his life."

"A monster, then?"

"Mhm. Have you heard of the XuanWu of Slaughter?"

"XuanWu of Slaughter...?"

"Isn't it that legendary yao that almost exterminated the Wen Clan some hundreds of years ago?"

"Oh, that story! I heard it too. But didn't the Wen-zongzhu of that time kill it?"

"As if a single person could do it! They say the XuanWu of Slaughter came out of nowhere, killed as many people as it wished, then vanished without a trace."

"No other Clans saw it at the time either, so many believed the beast was hibernating somewhere in the Qishan region. However, no one could find it no matter how hard they tried. They eventually gave up, and the story became the legend we know today in no time."

"Was it the same this time too? Came out of nowhere, caused a massacre, then disappeared without a trace..."

"Ha! I say it's karma!"

"Humans couldn't punish him, so Heavens sent something that could!"

"What about the rest of the Wen Clan? Did they all die?"

"That's right... The ones at Nightless City, at least. Oh, there was also that army under Wen Chao's command. They were annihilated on the way back to Qishan by the cultivators of the Nie Clan."

"So ChiFeng-Zun did do something."

"He was the one who killed Wen ZhuLiu and captured Wen Chao. Wen Xu has not been found yet, though. No one knows who will lead the Wen Clan from now on because of it."

"Wait, so there are survivors?"

"Oh, c'mon, I just say the ones at Nightless City died? There were a number of Wens who left the city a little before the XuanWu's attack. Apparently they betrayed Wen RuoHan and saved disciples from all Clans. Their help in securing the youngsters' safety is the main reason why the Clans are hesitant towards this matter. They could be seen as ungrateful, you see?"

"Hmph. They're all Wen-dogs in the end. No matter who it is, they won't get away easily!"

"Let's wait and see for now. It's only been two days. We'll find out more soon, anyway."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever! Hey, jiejie! Another round of wine for everyone!"

Cheers erupt around the establishment. Cultivators and commoners join in on the celebration regardless of their participation in the original conversation or not. Humans are just like that, after all: everyone comes over the moment they get any benefit out of it.

Having listened to this point, a person stands up from the farthest table of the small tavern. They are covered from head to toe in a black cloak, not even an inch of skin showing. Their steps are heavy and quick, and something about them emanates an aura of arrogance and pride.

No one notices the person under the cloak leaving in silence. One nameless human has no importance compared to the fall of a tyrant who was loathed by the entire world.

In the face of such a character, that cloaked figure is nothing.

Nothing will be the same ever again.

That thought replays in Lan XiChen's mind nonstop as he kneels in his Clan's Ancestral Hall. The air is heavy with the smell of incense, and the weight of his mourning robes makes Lan XiChen's skin itch with discomfort. His hair is tied tighter than usual, the feeling of the guan on his hair unfamiliar.

He stares at the tablet in front of him. It is beautifully made with the intricate carvings that symbolize this one as belonging to a late Clan Leader. The name carved onto it is written in clear, elegant characters. Lan Tian • Lan XinYi • QinHeng-Jun. Lan XiChen's father, led to death by the wounds caused during the attack at Cloud Recesses.

Lan XiChen's memories of his father are far and few between. Their meetings were as restricted as the one with his mother were. After his mother's passing, however, his father stopped coming out of his meditative state to talk with him and WangJi. Lan XiChen doesn't know why, and he didn't want to find out, either. The answer scared him. He gave up without understanding.

He stopped going to see his father soon after. Lan XiChen doesn't know if the same is true for WangJi. Stubborn as his brother was, Lan XiChen wouldn't be surprised if the young WangJi kept going to the entrance of that cave long after. Maybe his insistence managed to get some sort of answer out of their father. A reaction. A smile. Anything.

Maybe, all it took was a little bit of persistence, Lan XiChen thinks bitterly.

It doesn't matter anymore. His father is gone and Lan XiChen is Lan-zongzhu now. No matter what he does or how much he wishes, he can't change the past. And, even if there was a way, if Lan XiChen could go back and change everything... Would he really? Would he be able to change things for the better? Would he be a better son, a better brother, a better friend?

Somehow, Lan XiChen doubts it.

"Xiongzhang?"

WangJi's voice is quiet and soft. He stands close to the door, unwilling to come in and disturb any more than necessary yet unable to leave. He is bringing important news, Lan XiChen guesses. Unpleasant news, if his expression is anything to go by.

Lan XiChen gives his father's tablet one last glance before he stands up and follows WangJi outside. He keeps a smile on his face through all of it, patiently waiting for his younger brother to say what he came for. WangJi's gaze doesn't meet his own, but he doesn't look uncomfortable or hesitant.

It's... strange. WangJi is the same as ever, quiet and kind, doing his best to help regardless of rewards and whatnot. His affections and disaffections did not change either, all of them far too easy for Lan XiChen to read. And yet, Lan XiChen can't help but feel like he's talking to a completely different person sometimes.

No, that's not right either. Rather than a different person, it's as though he's seeing a WangJi who just entered a different stage of life. His core is the same, but his approach and thought process shifted enough to be noticeable.

Lan XiChen wonders if it's because of the attack at their home, or the time spent on Qishan. Did something happen, something Lan XiChen isn't privy to? He doesn't know. And not knowing makes him feel uncomfortable.

Guilty.

Before Lan XiChen can better examine those feelings, WangJi speaks at last: "The new Wen-zongzhu has been announced this morning. It is Wen Qing."

Wen Qing is a name Lan XiChen is familiar with. Though he does not know the girl herself, Lan XiChen is well acquainted with the tales of her wisdom and kindness. Her determination to oppose Wen RuoHan at the very end led her and her family to not only free the imprisoned disciples, but also retrieve their stolen weapons. They risked everything they had, their lives and their honor, in doing so. Lan XiChen respects them for their courage.

Had the XuanWu of Slaughter not appeared, Lan XiChen is sure, Wen RuoHan's wrath would be the end of them.

He nods slowly. "I see. I assume they didn't find Wen Xu, in this case?"

WangJi shakes his head. "No, he was found. For his crimes, executed."

Lan XiChen purses his lips. So that's how it is... "Thank you for telling me. And, WangJi," Lan XiChen swallows past the lump in his throat, "take care."

WangJi's eyes finally meet Lan XiChen's. They are slightly wider than usual, a reflection of the surprise he feels. Then, "I will."

And with those words, Lan XiChen is once again left alone with only his thoughts, his memories, and the ghosts of his past to keep him company.

"Is it true that Jiang-guniang returned home?"

"Yes. A boat from the Jin Clan arrived this afternoon. It seems Jin-gongzi came with her."

"Poor girl. Everyone berated her for fleeing her home, yet who knows the horrible things that happened at Lotus Pier behind closed doors."

"Wait. What kind of things? I thought they were just having a shortage of cultivators and financial issues..."

"I mean, that too. Argh, meimei, do you really not know anything?"

"Would I ask if I did?"

"Now, now, you two. It's okay, we're all family here. But answering your question: it seems Yu-furen's treatment of their disciples worsened immensely over the last months of her reign. I heard she started whipping disciples unprovoked. There are rumors that some of them died, even."

"Rumors, what rumors? She killed her own husband, you think she wouldn't kill unrelated people wandering in her residence's grounds?"

"I mean... A-Xi didn't confirm anything, so..."

"Who's A-Xi again? One of your clients?"

"Of course not. A-Xi is my fiancé. He'll work hard to make a name for himself and then he'll come back to take me as his wife. A-Xi... Jiang XiaoXi is a man who honors his words."

"Jiang, you say..."

"Jie..."

"It's alright! He wasn't at Lotus Pier at the time of the massacre. He was out on a mission or something like that. A cultivator thing."

"... If you say so..."

"Of course I say so. Oh, look! Aren't those cultivators?"

"Waaah, I never saw them fly on their swords before! How cool!"

"Only meimei would be so amazed seeing that."

"I mean, humans aren't made to fly, right? So it has to be amazing! Do you think they're heading to Lotus Pier?"

"Probably. They're still working on retrieving the corpses, from what I hear. There are some too deep in the lake to be found easily."

"Ugh... Honestly, living in a brothel forever sounds better than ending like that."

"They're all dressed in red, though. Jie, do you know where they're from?"

"Hm? Ah. Red is... the Wen Clan's color, isn't it? But... Why would they come back here?"

"I hope Jiang-guniang will be safe."

"That reminds me, why do you like her so much, anyway? I thought you didn't care about the Clans, meimei."

"And I don't! But I was born at Lotus Pier, remember? Before I was brought here, Jiang-guniang used to make soup and bring it out for us homeless a few times every week. She's the main reason I didn't die of hunger, back then. Someone so kind shouldn't have to suffer so much."

"Meimei is a good girl, huh?"

"Aaaah, no, jiejie! Don't tease me!"

The Lotus Pier Jin ZiXuan keeps in his memories is a beautiful place. The lotus-covered lakes were unlike any other vision Jin ZiXuan ever had, and there was something special and unique about how well the Jiang residence blended with the scenery that fascinated him. It was perhaps the most pungent proof that the Jiang Clan is not like the others, that they exist along with the common people instead of being apart in their own world.

The Lotus Pier he sees now couldn't be more different.

Every building on sight is painted black and disintegrating into ashes. The nine-petal motif is nowhere to be seen, making it impossible to tell that this place is, in fact, the residence of a great Clan. There are some people walking back and forth: cultivators from other Clans willing to help, common people who escaped the disaster and are still assessing the weight of their loss.

In the middle of it all, a few disciples in purple stand. They are the only survivors they know of so far, the nineteen disciples who accompanied Jiang WanYin to Qishan. They all have varying levels of pain and distress on their faces, and yet they still strive to carry a hopeful look on their faces—like not all is lost, like they still can save something they love.

This attitude surprised him at first, but Jin ZiXuan quickly understood: they are not doing it for themselves, but for Jiang YanLi's sake. A-Li, who's struggling to fit into this new reality of hers, and yet has the kindness and strength to smile for them. These disciples are merely trying to be strong for her, to make her feel like her efforts aren't meaningless.

It's all because they love her, because they still see her as their beloved shijie, that they're able to smile like this.

Jin ZiXuan respects them for it. He is grateful, for he doesn't want to imagine what A-Li would be like without them to help her. At the same time, he can't help but feel frustrated. He hates that he can't do more for her, that he lacks the power to shield her from the pain and the newfound responsibilities that fell on her as the new Jiang-zongzhu.

And, above all, he hates that he can do nothing but wait in silence as A-Li talks with the envoys from the Wen Clan.

He knows it's not the fault of either side. The current Wen Clan is made entirely of the survivors who defied Wen RuoHan—their saviors, including Wen Qing. Jin ZiXuan can't entirely resent them, for he knows they did everything they could.

And yet, he wishes they wouldn't come, that A-Li could have more time to process everything before being confronted with their presence. They, who still use the colors and the motif of the ones who annihilated her Clan.

He lets out a heavy breath, and forces himself to return to the task at hand.

Jin ZiXuan took upon himself the responsibility of preparing the funerals of Jiang FengMian and Yu ZiYuan. It's a complicated situation, everything considered. The state of their corpses, the fact that the Jiang Ancestral Hall was also burned down, the small number of Jiangs capable of undertaking the necessary obligations for the funeral rites... Jin ZiXuan is unsure of how much they can do for them.

That's exactly why he offered to do it. He doesn't want Jiang YanLi to be forced to consider all these issues. If anything, he wishes she could be allowed to simply grieve in peace, away from the problems that surround her family's circumstances.

Jin ZiXuan grits his teeth. These things, these responsibilities should all have been Jiang WanYin's! So where is he?! Where is he to play his role as the official heir, to act as the leader he was raised to be? Jin ZiXuan doesn't think he is dead—they'd likely have found his body if he did—but the alternative is just as unpleasant.

Does Jiang WanYin have any love left for his sister at all?

He inhales sharply. There is a warmth enveloping his hand. Jin ZiXuan glances down to find a pair of small, delicate hands enveloping his own.

A-Li's smile is kind and gentle as always, but her eyes are glistening with tears. She carefully pries Jin ZiXuan's hand open, and only then does he realize what the issue is: a moment ago, his hand was closed into a tight fist. In his rage against the circumstances of his fiancée, Jin ZiXuan accidentally dug his nails into his palms, and now blood seeps out of the tiny slashes.

"We should take care of this," A-Li says, her voice small and trembling. Her hair falls over her shoulders disorderly. It's strange, seeing her like this. A-Li always put on great effort into looking presentable before. Jin ZiXuan's heart aches for her, for the girl who can only do so much when in such deep pain. "Right?"

"Ah—" Jin ZiXuan is a cultivator. His core is not weak by any means, and so his recovery speed is also way beyond that of the average human. Small cuts like these are nothing. He can barely feel any discomfort at all. And yet. "Thank you, A-Li."

And yet, now he is but a man standing with the woman he loves. Jiang YanLi's smile is small, but it's not forced. Her hand in Jin ZiXuan's is warm and precious. They are together. Jin ZiXuan will stay by her side no matter what happens.

For now, that'll have to be enough.

"Is it true that zongzhu will host a Discussion Conference here?"

"It's about time... No one took the initiative all these weeks, so of course zongzhu will do it!"

"Ugh. Just thinking of those Wen-dogs crawling in our Carp Tower..."

"Well, that's unavoidable, don't you think? Wen RuoHan committed so many atrocities, we have to make sure there won't be another of him among the Wen remnants."

"I suppose. But didn't they pick a doctor to be their new leader? I think that choice alone shows great change on their end."

"A Wen is a Wen! None of them can be trusted!"

"Ah."

"What's wrong, shidi?"

"I was just thinking... It'll be Jiang-guniang—I mean, Jiang-zongzhu's first official meeting as the Clan Leader, won't it? Do you think she'll be fine?"

"ZiXuan-xiong will be there for her, so probably yes?"

"Still, their positions are different now. A heir can't possibly sit with a Clan Leader, right?"

"Now that you say..."

"Jiang-zongzhu was so kind to us. She cooked all that delicious food for us back then. I don't want her to suffer any more."

"Well, it's too late now. It's not like anyone can erase the pain of losing family."

"What about Jiang-gongzi? Surely she'd cheer up if her brother returned, right?"

"Oh. Right. He went missing after that night."

"San-shixiong, please! How can you forget these important details?"

"It's not my fault, okay?! You can't blame me for not caring about him! Or did you forget what he did there?"

"Oh..."

"I heard that disciple will never be able to cultivate again. The Core Melting Hand was more than a fancy title, it seems."

"Wen ZhuLiu wasn't even aiming at the boy! He only got hit because Jiang WanYin used him as a human shield. Absolutely despicable!"

"I heard some of the cultivators who left the Jiang Clan are returning to help. At least YanLi-jie will have their support, too."

"Pftt."

"Ha?! What's that, wanna fight?!"

"YanLi-jie? Are you not scared you will get a fight with ZiXuan-xiong if you keep calling her so casually?"

"Ah, I—! Argh, no, he'll kill me for sure!"

"Shidi, you're adorable."

"Am not!"

"Well, let's get moving. We have a lot of things to organize, and I'm sure no one wants ZiXun-xiong to come after us."

"Hell, no."

"He, YanLi-jie..."

"I already said to quit it!"

Cultivation was supposed to be a noble, selfless art. The power to defeat the supernatural should have been dedicated to saving and protecting first and foremost. The advancements in medicine and technology brought forth by the use of spiritual energy should be shared with the community, whether it's made of cultivators or not. Cultivators should exist for the sake of the common people.

The current cultivation world could not be farther from that image.

The mere idea of the existence of a cultivation world separated from the common people is in and of itself a major stray from that path. They shouldn't be. They should all exist in the same world. They shouldn't be so focused on their political games and reputation that they pick up which people they will and will not help.

They shouldn't be so cruel as to use the feelings of a grieving girl in order to justify hating and segregating their so-called enemy.

Nie HuaiSang watches the Discussion Conference taking place at the Golden Carp Tower's main hall from one of the outermost tables. He can't see his brother's expression from where he is, but he is aware that getting a seat any closer would bother other cultivators, especially the Clan heirs who settled at the lowest level of the hall. His chair is too high, after all, and those sitting on the floor are sure to complain if he suddenly claimed a spot closer to the center of the hall.

His gaze falls to his lap. This chair is different from the one he was given before. Instead of the wheels Nie HuaiSang grew used to in the past months, this chair has a set of four retractile legs that move like those of a spider. It allows him to climb up stairs and move outside freely. On top of that, it responds to his qi flow, in such a way that Nie HuaiSang needs no one to help him.

The fact that he can focus on training his cultivation enough to move around with this new chair is all thanks to Wen Qing. Just like Wen Ning promised, she found a way to treat him and remove the poison left by Jiang WanYin's corrupted sword. Certainly, it's not perfect. She can't cure the pains caused by the ruptured nerves and damaged bones. That's something Nie HuaiSang will have to live with for the rest of his life. But the most important is: it's manageable now. He can find it in himself the energy to move and do it with little to no fear of facing an unbearable amount of pain.

It's all thanks to Wen Qing and the kindest Wei-sanren, who put in the effort of putting this most amazing invention of a moving chair together for Nie HuaiSang's sake. These are all debts he'll spend the rest of his life repaying and, even then, Nie HuaiSang fears it won't be enough.

This is the only reason why he chose to attend this Discussion Conference. He needs to make sure his brother understands the weight of what Wen Qing did for him, to make sure that this debt isn't ignored and dishonored.

Jin GuangShan smiles down at Wen Qing. He stands at the highest seat of the hall. The way Nie HuaiSang sees it, he's no different from Wen RuoHan, setting a clear distance between himself and the Clans he considers inferior.

It's almost ironic. Nothing changed in the Jin Clan to justify this change. There is nothing to give Jin GuangShan the right to lead this reunion. And yet, no one raises a single question.

Nie HuaiSang understands why. Why would they risk getting on Jin GuangShan's bad side when they know better than anyone how badly such situation can get? Why not just play along with his silly dreams and hope to be compensated for their so-called loyalty a few years from now?

This line of thought is the only reason why Wen RuoHan was allowed to go as far as he did. It could have ended in a mass-scale tragedy under any other circumstances, but of course these people care not about it. All they care about is their own benefit.

"So? Aren't you going to answer, Wen-zongzhu?" Nie HuaiSang never heard that title sound as disrespectful and mocking as it does now in Jin GuangShan's voice. "Or could it be that in the face of Jiang-guniang's pain you are suddenly feeling guilty?"

Nie HuaiSang purses his lips. His gaze instinctively falls on Jiang YanLi. Jiang YanLi, who sits alone on the table reserved for Jiang-zongzhu, dressed in mourning white robes with an expression of pure distress on her face.

Following the attack of Lotus Pier, the Nie Clan was able to ambush and capture most of the cultivators under Wen Chao's commands on the way back to Qishan. Some of their people had their cores melted by Wen ZhuLiu's hands and a few others lost their lives that night, but the ultimate victory lay with Nie MingJue's forces in the end. Wen ZhuLiu was executed then and there, and Wen Chao is under the Lan Clan's custody waiting for his sentence. This battle, when coupled with the near complete annihilation of the Wen Clan under the XuanWu of Slaughter's claws, put a stop to the war before it could fully start.

Of course, this victory was only achieved thanks to the efforts of the Wen Clan's survivors. After all, it was a cultivator under Wen Ning's command that gave the Nie Clan the necessary information to lead the attack on Wen Chao's army.

But it was already too late to save Lotus Pier. Most of the commoners who lived in the Pier managed to flee and survive the fire, but the same wasn't true for the cultivators under the Jiang Clan. The corpses were carelessly thrown into one of the neighboring lakes, left to rot and decay. By the time the cultivators of other Clans arrive to help in the retrieving process, some of them were already overridden with resentful energy. It was only a miracle that allowed them to take them back before a waterborne abyss started to form.

Yu-furen's body could never be recovered to receive proper burials, for she burned to ashes alongside her Clan's residence. That much was confirmed by Wen Chao himself, and Nie HuaiSang heard he had a smug smile on his face when he disclosed that information.

Jiang WanYin went missing the night of the incident. Some witnesses affirm to have seen him during the battle against Wen Chao's army. No one can say what happened to him nor where he went to after the battle. And, above all, no one knows why he hasn't come back to claim his place as the new Jiang-zongzhu.

All these unfortunate circumstances are what led Jiang YanLi to sit in this hall today. She who is the last direct descendant of the Jiang Clan has no choice but to take on the title of Jiang-zongzhu herself. Her main public sources of support comes from her mother's natal Clan, Meishan Yu Clan, and her fiancé's home, the Jin Clan. Although, Nie HuaiSang now suspects, it may be just Jin ZiXuan who truly supports her.

Right now, for Jin GuangShan, Jiang YanLi is no more than another tool to reach his goals, someone whose feelings are mere stepping stones towards the goal of completely destroying the already weakened Wen Clan.

Nie HuaiSang wonders what Jiang YanLi is feeling now. If it was him in her place, forced into a role he had neither interest nor preparation for, having to push through the grief of losing his family all at once... He doesn't know what he would've done. He can't begin to imagine a world without his brother, his Clan, the friends he grew up with.

He sympathizes with Jiang YanLi's pain. Of course he does. And yet—Nie HuaiSang can't forget.

He can't forget what Jiang WanYin did to him. In his heart, he hopes and prays that that sorry excuse of a cultivator is no longer with them, that Wen Chao did at least one good deed and got rid of him for once and all. At the same time, he hopes Jiang WanYin is alive, alive and suffering for his crimes. It's only fair. His victims deserve this much.

Maybe he is more heartless than he thought, after all. Not that it matters, for in the end it's not Nie HuaiSang's decision to make.

Wen Qing looks between Jin GuangShan and Jiang YanLi. Her back is facing Nie HuaiSang, making it impossible for him to see what expression she is making. Her posture is still firm and strong, however, and her voice echoes clear like a bell. "Jin-zongzhu must already know that my Clan is working hard to settle these matters with all Clans affected by Wen RuoHan's actions separately. We already dispatched our people and resources to aid in the rebuilding of Lotus Pier and Cloud Recesses, as well as offer medical assistance where it is needed."

Nie HuaiSang glances at the Gusu Lan table. Lan XiChen sits there with his back straight and his expression solemn. According to the rumors, Lan XiChen spent the time between the burning of Cloud Recesses and the fall of Qishan Wen hidden away in safety. No one knows if he had any help, however, and Lan XiChen stayed distant enough from everyone since his official appointment as Lan-zongzhu that no one had the chance to ask, either.

On his right side, Lan WangJi sits in silence. Nie HuaiSang didn't see him leaving the prison with the other Clan heirs that night. He supposes he must have stayed behind to talk with Wei-sanren. It sounds right, at least, given that Lan WangJi is arguably the person closest to Wei-sanren in the cultivation world.

Jin GuangShan doesn't sneer. No, that old man is above such inelegant displays of emotion. His eyes narrow visibly, however. "Are you implying that this is enough to compensate for the atrocity your Clan committed at Lotus Pier?"

No. That's definitely not what Wen Qing said. Nie HuaiSang knows that, and he is sure the other Clan Leaders know, too. And yet, not a single one of them raise their voices in protests. Not even his brother. That small realization makes something in Nie HuaiSang break a little.

He should have known. His brother's hatred for the Wen Clan still runs deep regardless of who their leader is. It'll be good enough if he stops the Clans from starting a siege unprovoked... But Nie HuaiSang isn't confident that even that would happen now.

It is, surprisingly, Jiang YanLi's voice that cuts through the silence. "May I ask you one thing, Jin-zongzhu?"

She doesn't sound as broken as Nie HuaiSang expected. Her voice is small and quiet, for sure, and her tone of voice is gentle enough to be considered sweet. Her wording is also polite to the extreme, lacking any provocation or displeasure.

Despite his obvious lack of affection towards her, Jin GuangShan's gaze softens at her words. His smile looks almost... pleased. The sight of it makes a shiver run up Nie HuaiSang's spine. Suddenly, he is glad that Jiang YanLi is Jiang-zongzhu now. Her position should make it impossible for her to move into the Jin Clan permanently, an undeniable shield to protect her from Jin GuangShan.

"My apologies, A-Li." The nickname comes out of his lips with ease. It's almost as though, for him, calling her this way is nothing but natural. "This mustn't be an easy conversation for you. Would you rather have a small break for now?"

The offer is anything but genuine. Nie HuaiSang instinctively knows exactly what Jin GuangShan is trying to do. By getting Jiang YanLi out of the picture, the responsibility of making justice for the Jiang Clan naturally falls on his shoulders. And, as he is speaking for two renowned Clans at once, his word is sure to hold more weight than most.

He is a genius. Nie HuaiSang feels disgusting for admitting this much even if only in his thoughts.

Jiang YanLi nods. "Thank you. In this case, I shall ask: have you found anything about A-Cheng in these past weeks?"

The question catches Jin GuangShan off-guard. Nie HuaiSang, too, feels a little disconcerted. The topic of Jiang WanYin hasn't been raised in the entirety of the Discussion Conference. The Clan Leaders probably believed it impolite to bring up that sensitive matter to the discussion when Jiang YanLi's position is still so fragile. What does Jiang YanLi intend with this? Where does she want to go?

Jin GuangShan's smile looks a little strained now. "... No, I have not. You know we would have told you right away if we found him."

"I know. How about Yao-zongzhu? Nie-zongzhu? Lan-zongzhu?" Her gaze turns towards the people she mentions one after the other. Each and every time, the answer is negative. No, no one knows what happened to Jiang WanYin. Jiang YanLi's face softens. "I wonder... Is it because A-Cheng really doesn't want to be found? Or is it that no one is searching?"

Oh.

Oh.

Nie HuaiSang's looks at the faces of the Clan Leaders surrounding them. They don't say a word, but their expressions alone is enough to show that Jiang YanLi was correct in her guess.

And, well, why would they care? For these greedy people, a weak Yunmeng Jiang Clan is the best-case scenario of all, especially for the less prominent Clans. After all, it represents the chance of ascension for most of them.

Jiang YanLi continues, unbothered by the silence: "Just as Wen-zongzhu said, she has contacted me and sent her support in all ways she could... Including sending out a search party to investigate A-Cheng's whereabouts. For that, Wen-zongzhu has my gratitude, and the only thing I wish to express for her is my support in this transition of power."

Wen Qing stands up. With her back still turned to Nie HuaiSang, she bows deeply to Jiang YanLi. "Thank you for your kind words, Jiang-zongzhu. I promise we will keep working hard to bring Jiang-gongzi back to you."

For the first time since the beginning of the Discussion Conference, Jiang YanLi smiles. "I am sure you will. After all—" Jiang YanLi pauses slightly, as if to emphasize her next words, "—You are not Wen RuoHan, nor are you guilty for his crimes."

"Jiang-zongzhu, I know you're kind, but to say Wen Qing is guiltless is a lie! Where was her revolt when Wen RuoHan was still here? How come they did nothing to stop his tyranny?" Yao-zongzhu shouts angrily.

Following his outburst, several leaders nod in agreement, mutters of Wen-dogs, naive, and murderers echoing through the hall.

Jiang YanLi looks right at Yao-zongzhu. His expression stiffens in the face of her calm. "If that's so, then we are even more guilty than she is, for our Clans had the resources and opportunity to try stopping it. At the very least, I am sure your possessions weren't controlled by Wen RuoHan as the ones of Wen Qing's family were. And, above that, I am sure a righteous person as Yao-zongzhu wouldn't forget who saved his son."

Jin GuangShan's fan snaps closed. Nie HuaiSang hides his smile behind his own. No one has the courage to go against Jiang YanLi anymore.

The Discussion Conference ends in a bitter note. Only two things are clear: Wen Chao shall be executed, and the current Wen Clan is free to go... for now, the words go unsaid.

They will still find a way to blame Wen Qing and her family for the crimes of Wen RuoHan, and when that happens, hell is sure to break upon the Wen Clan. But, even if just for now, Jiang YanLi managed to gain them some time. And time is everything they need.

"There's something bothering you," Nie Mao mutters as soon as they are out of the conference hall. He walks a small distance away from Nie HuaiSang. He knows better than to keep his feet anywhere close to Nie HuaiSang's chair's mechanical legs.

Nie HuaiSang shakes his head. "Nothing much, really. I'm just a little tired. These past weeks were harsh on everyone."

It's not a lie. Not entirely, at least. Nie HuaiSang doesn't feel safe to share his true thoughts—that, no matter how much the Clans hope and wish, they won't be able to do anything against the Wens now. Not because Wen Qing is powerful, nor because her Clan is rich, but because she has a most powerful ally on her side.

Wei-sanren is strong enough to choose whether he wants to be a part of their world or not. His cultivation path is an enigma that somehow destroyed a waterborne abyss in a matter of days. Nie HuaiSang can't help but find it strange that Wei-sanren, despite all the power he had and the fact that he was there, did nothing to try stopping the XuanWu of Slaughter.

Could it be that that legendary beast was more than he could handle? Possibly. But unlikely, Nie HuaiSang thinks.

It was on purpose. Wei-sanren allowed the XuanWu of Slaughter to run free to give Wen Qing a chance. If anything... Nie HuaiSang truly wouldn't be surprised if Wei-sanren was behind the incident somehow.

But these are not things to be shared so close to so many Clan Leaders, if he could share them at all. And, in the end, these are just his suspicions. There's no way he can prove them—if there was any way to prove anything, Wei-sanren certainly would already have worked to cover it up.

That man is a genius just like that.

"N-Nie-gongzi." It's Wen Ning. Nie HuaiSang instinctively smiles when he sees the new Wen heir. Wen Ning didn't join the conference, probably for his own peace of mind and to let Wen Qing deal with those matters freely. "H-How a-are you?"

Nie HuaiSang sends a new burst of spiritual energy into his chair. He spins around him, and the two frontal legs of his chair rise up as if in celebration. "I'm great! Thank you. I hope you are well too."

Wen Ning smiles at him. "Mhm! I am f-fine. We're s-settling well."

Oh. Right. The Wen Clan is in the process of abandoning Nightless City in favor of settling their residence elsewhere. It is unclear where said residence is, and whether it is still in the Qishan region or not. Nevertheless, it is good to see that Wen Ning is doing okay.

"I see. I'm glad." It's not a lie. "I hope you come visit me at the Unclean Realm sometime. I could use someone different to talk to."

Wen Ning's eyes widen visibly. "O-Oh, no, I c-can't... Uh, m-maybe y-you could c-come instead? I'm a-afraid Nie-z-zongzhu wouldn't a-appreciate it..."

Nie HuaiSang wants to argue, but he knows Wen Ning is right. "Alright. Is it okay if I write to you?"

"Ah!" Wen Ning's delight seeps into his voice and colors his smile. "Y-Yes, p-please do!"

"A-Ning!" Wen Qing calls from afar. She stands on the top of the many stairs of Golden Carp Tower, her expression leaving no doubt as to how much she wants to leave this place for once and all.

"Ah. I-I—"

"It's okay." Nie HuaiSang laughs at the look on Wen Ning's face. "We'll see each other again soon."

Wen Ning smiles. Nie HuaiSang watches him leave with a bittersweet smile on his face. They all lost a lot, but, somehow, Nie HuaiSang gained something precious in the middle of it all.

He gained a friend.

"Hey, did Blacksmith Yao really not come back home yet?"

"I'm telling you, no one's seen head or tails of him since that rain the other day! His wife is distraught and his son keeps crying day and night for his father. It's a mess."

"Some people are saying he ran away with another woman. Apparently his last client was a gorgeous young lady, and her words certainly had implications..."

"Nonsense. That guy is obsessed with his wife. He courted her for years and had to go through great lengths to get her father's approval. Besides, his son is everything to him. No way he'd let everything go for a flimsy adventure or whatever."

"I heard he also left everything he owned at home. If he intended to run away, then going without a single coin was very stupid move."

"Right?! And then there's also..."

"What's 'also'? Out with it!"

"It's only rumors, but apparently there's been more missing people these days. I heard there were three in the village to the West, and two more heading North from here. Maybe it's not just a coincidence."

"Eh? Who?"

"From what I heard they were all men. One of them was a doctor, one a tavern owner, and another was a bodyguard. All the others worked on the farmlands Northwest from here. I heard most of them disappeared on the way home from work."

"Ugh."

"That's scary."

"Ha, maybe I just found the perfect excuse to stay home!"

"Sure, sure, then your wife will be the only threat to your life."

"Ah, ahaha... Damnit."

"I really hope it's nothing serious, though, and everyone will come home safe and sound."

"Me too. I mean, we're just a bunch of low-lives trying to survive. Taking even that away from us... I don't want to believe someone would be that cruel."

"Let's just try not to walk alone at night, huh? That way it'll be harder to take us down!"

"Agreed. A-Xing has great ideas!"

"Y'all..."

Jiang FengMian once said that names are powerful, for they are able to carry the prayers of parents and mold a child into the best version of themselves. It was why he insisted on naming his children himself, to make sure they would have a bright future ahead of them. Jiang YanLi's name is the hope her father had for her life. He wanted her to be happy and to never feel the pain of loneliness. By disliking separation, he probably thought, she would be blessed with the presence of all she loves for all her life.

She loves the name her father gave her. But now, watching people going back and forth in the efforts of rebuilding her home, Jiang YanLi can't help but feel bitter.

Maybe her father chose the wrong name, after all. Maybe she'd be better off if he wished for her to be powerful instead—powerful enough to keep her family united and happy, to protect her little brother and shidis from whatever dangers may come their way. If only she was powerful, she wouldn't have to face loss and loneliness, for she would be able to fight all of it head on.

If only—

"You shouldn't blame yourself like this."

Jiang YanLi's breath gets caught in her throat and her heart skips a painful beat. This voice, she recognizes it with painfully striking clarity. It's a voice that intrigued and comforted her once, many, many seasons ago. It's the voice of a lonely child trying to survive a cruel world, who was unable to share his name with anyone.

Her gaze meets the person standing in front of her. His clothes are plain and simple, all black with red accents. His hair is tied in a high ponytail, the long ends of his ribbon dancing free on the ever-present breeze of Lotus Pier. His face is unbelievably handsome, with firm angles and sharp eyes. Sword on his back, dizi hanging on his waist, a familiar silver bell chiming with every step.

He grew up so much. Jiang YanLi can barely see the boy he met that day in the young man he is today. He is not hiding anymore, meeting her in the middle of her Clan's destroyed training wards. There's a certain ease in his smile that wasn't there before. Whatever happened to him in these past years, it only strengthened him and made him happier.

Her own lips curve into an unconscious smile. Jiang YanLi's fingers itch with the need to reach out and touch him, caress his cheek the way she used to do with A-Cheng back when he was still small and welcoming of her affection. She holds herself back, however, for she's afraid it would break some unspoken boundary.

She turns her gaze away from him. "What makes you think I am?"

The boy stops by her side. He is much taller than Jiang YanLi now. Perhaps he's even taller than A-Xuan. She wonders what kind of powers can be hidden in his body, if he has the strength and courage she lacks somewhere deep down. At the same time, the big sister residing in her heart cries for the child he used to be, who was forced to grow so strong so fast with no one but himself and a dead woman to rely on.

"There's a smile on your face, but your eyes were downcast," he explains in a soothing voice. There's no harshness behind his words. He isn't condemning her for not hiding better, for not being better. "It's not the face of someone who means that smile. And, given your kindness… I doubt you were thinking anything bad of anyone else."

Jiang YanLi blinks once, twice, and purses her lips to get rid of their incessant trembling. She doesn't know what to feel. No one has read through her expression with such ease—or, if they did, they didn't deem it important to let her know it. It's a strange feeling. Jiang YanLi is an older sister. She was raised to be the madam of a great Clan in the future. Hiding her true feelings should have been second nature for her. To not be able to meet such base expectations, it should've made her feel ashamed of herself.

But she's not. She's not ashamed. She's not angry. She is just relieved.

He can see through me, the thought brings an exhilarating and comforting feeling to her heart. This means I am a human too, right? Human beings are allowed to be not okay. They are allowed to show their feelings, to ask for comfort, to just be.

"You'd be better off forgetting all about me, Jiang-guniang," he told her that day. He said it in such a way that Jiang YanLi wondered if he thought his existence as a whole to be a curse to be avoided. But he isn't. He never was. He would have been a blessing in her, in A-Cheng's and her family's life.

Where were you all this time? The thought comes unexpectedly, washing over her with a tempestuous feeling. This boy, if only he was here before, if Jiang YanLi could have had this companion growing up, how much happier could she have been?

Jiang YanLi regrets this line of thought the moment that old Jiang bell chimes again.

Maybe, maybe her life would indeed be better. Her full love would have found someone willing to receive it, and she'd have someone she could count on through the harshness of their world. A-Cheng would have a friend growing up, a human one rather than the dogs he kept for so long only to lose to a Night Hunt. And her father…

But, if that was so, what about this boy? Would he also have been happier with them? Or would the hatred corroding the foundations of her home become the source of his suffering instead?

This time, shame really does hit her—shame for being so selfish, even if just in thoughts for but a moment. Jiang YanLi should be better than this. She shouldn't—

"There you go again." He laughs, but it's laced with an undeniable strain. His shoulders are tenser than before, and his expression is a little remorseful. "I'm sorry… I couldn't help you."

Jiang YanLi exhales sharply. Her eyes widen at those words and he searches his face for any hint of a lie. There is none. He is nothing like the cultivators loitering around the Clans. He is a kind, honest human, more than most of them could ever hope to be.

She smiles a small, shaky smile. "There is nothing you could have done."

"That's the thing, Jiang-zongzhu." His voice is resolute and firm. "I could. I could have stopped them from attacking Lotus Pier. Or, at least, I could have saved some of the people who died here. But I didn't. I didn't want to. I didn't care about this place or the ones living here enough to change my focus."

Jiang YanLi swallows past the lump in her throat. A-Xuan told her that the imprisoned disciples were all rescued through the joint efforts of the Wen remnants and a certain sanren. She knows exactly what his focus was.

"You… did what was right. You avoided a greater tragedy. It is only because of you that we can recover peacefully without the threat of a war hovering over our heads." It's true. Jiang YanLi may not be considered well-versed in politics, but this much she understands: had those disciples died in the disaster of Qishan, the entirety of the cultivation world would spare no second thoughts before unleashing war on the surviving Wens, if not worse. "You shouldn't blame yourself for having to make a choice."

The boy inhales softly. He looks at her with unreadable eyes for a long moment. Then, in the quietest of whispers: "Even if this choice led to the death of your parents?"

A shiver runs down Jiang YanLi's spine. She closes her eyes, brows furrowed and lips tightly pressed together. Can she? Can she truly not feel any anger at him for letting her parents die when he had the chance to save them? When he had the power Jiang YanLi yearns for so badly?

She shakes her head. "It was already too late… Nothing you… Or anyone did… A-Die couldn't have been saved. And A-Niang… I don't think she would have appreciated being saved by any means."

She thinks of letters filled with warmth, of characters written with great effort just to reassure her. She thinks of the stories her father told her through those letters for weeks, months on end, and how much they kept her together during her time at Golden Carp Tower.

Jiang YanLi thinks of letters that suddenly stopped coming. She thinks of the dread that came with knowing yet being unable to believe the truth exposed right in front of her. She remembers the fear she felt, the struggle the simple act of smiling caused her.

Her father passed long before the attack happened. She doesn't know why no one prepared the appropriate funeral rites, nor why his death was kept a secret for long. If anything, Jiang YanLi is afraid of asking. She is afraid of what the reason behind this, her mother's actions, could be.

Maybe, A-Niang wasn't well anymore, either. Maybe, a part of her died with A-Die. Maybe, she, too, was seeking death in her own way.

It's the only reason Jiang YanLi can think of to explain her mother's fall. Yu ZiYuan was a proud cultivator, with a strong golden core and even stronger spiritual weapons. Her Zidian would never let her down. If she wanted to live, she definitely could, even if fleeing hurt her pride. But not only she died, she took Lotus Pier with her.

She doesn't know what to feel about it. It's too much for Jiang YanLi to fully comprehend. She doesn't think she ever will understand the intricacies of her parents' dysfunctional existence.

One thing she knows for sure, however: they were both beyond saving.

"It's not your fault," she repeats one more time, this time firmer than before. "Besides…"

Jiang YanLi's gaze returns to the training grounds in front of her. The buildings surrounding it are all damaged and charred by fire and smoke, and the grounds are bare without the familiar training dummies Jiang YanLi used to watch her shidis practice with. There, in the middle of what looks like a whirlwind of cultivators of clashing colors and uniforms, stands A-Xuan.

She can't begin to describe how much he did for her in the past months, how much her love for him grew with every small action of affection and sympathy. Jiang YanLi doesn't know if love fits what A-Xuan feels for her, but whatever it is, Jiang YanLi knows it's enough to make her happy for many years to come. Perhaps, she'd be content with just this for the rest of her life.

Cultivators are said to have a heightened sixth sense, she thinks. That must be true, for A-Xuan turns around right then. Their eyes meet for a moment and, even through the distance separating them, Jiang YanLi notices the way his expression softens.

"You saved my future and brought him back to me. For that, I am thankful."

"I see…" The boy's eyes look down for a moment. It takes Jiang YanLi a moment to realize he's not sad, but merely following the line of ants trailing the ground in front of them. For some reason she can't quite explain, this realization makes something warm bubble in her chest. It just feels right. "But you see, Jiang-zongzhu, for me, seeing you blame yourself for something like this is even more painful than having the blame pushed on my shoulders. So, if you mean your words, you need to be kinder to yourself too."

Jiang YanLi… Has no argument against that. She can't say that she can just stop her more unkind thoughts at will, but, for him, she finds herself willing to try. She bites her lip. She fidgets with the hem of her sleeve. "You… I will. If you tell me your name."

The boy blinks. Then, he smiles. "Oh, why, I did promise you, didn't I? Back then." He turns to fully face her and cups his hands before his chest. "I am Wei Ying, son of Wei ChangZe and CangSe-sanren. I am blessed to meet you again, Jiang-zongzhu."

A smile curves Jiang YanLi's lips despite herself. She was right… This boy, Wei Ying, was far better on his own than living at Lotus Pier. His mother would never forgive his existence in this place.

"I am glad you are alive." It's true. Even if he didn't grow up at Yunmeng, he is the son of someone who did, someone who was infinitely precious to her father—in a way, Wei Ying is also a reminder of her father, of the person he loved and wished to protect. "If you would stay a little longer… I know some stories of your parents that my father told me I'd be happy to tell you, if you wish."

Wei Ying's lips part wordlessly. He stares at her for a moment, eyes very wide and very bright and a myriad of emotions reflecting clearly on steel. He smiles, and it's shakier than any expression Jiang YanLi saw on his face.

"I… Yeah, I would love that, if you don't mind. Actually, I came to offer my help, as well." Wei Ying scratches the back of his neck. Jiang YanLi can't help but wonder if this is what he's like when embarrassed. "I have a couple of spells I think would help with reconstruction. And I know the Jiang sword forms too, if you need help teaching new disciples. And… Well, just anything you wish. Just ask away and I'll do it. As long as it doesn't hurt anyone, I mean. Probably? I could be convinced. Maybe."

Jiang YanLi's eyes burn. Wei Ying always stayed away from the Clans and held pride in this fact. And yet, for her sake, he is giving her so much. So, so much more than she could ask for. More than she could accept freely.

"Let's talk this over better. Did you eat already? I made some soup earlier." Jiang YanLi takes a step forward to the Jiang residence. Though most rooms were destroyed by the fire, there were a few rooms which structure wasn't completely ruined and could be used if one didn't mind the burnt smell or the black coloring the walls and floor. Jiang YanLi took one such room as her personal bedroom and makeshift kitchen for the time being. "I could also make some snacks…"

"Oh—Ah, it's okay. I'll, um, I'll accept the soup, though." There's something in his voice that makes Jiang YanLi think of a childish yearning, like Wei Ying has just found an old dream of his again.

"Of course." Jiang YanLi smiles. It's, perhaps, the truest smile she gave in months. "A-Xian can have anything he wants."

The nickname comes easy as breathing. Wei Ying sucks in a breath at the sound of it, but doesn't protest it in any way that matters. In fact... He looks pleased. Hopeful. Nostalgic. Even though she doesn't understand, Jiang YanLi takes it as a good thing.

At the very least, A-Xian is here.

"Did you know? Wei-sanren joined the Jiang Clan!"

"Eh?! Really?!"

"Uhum. I was shocked too! He never went to Yunmeng before and made it a point to announce his desire to stay as far away from Clans as possible."

"Well, I guess it's understandable, though. His father grew up in Yunmeng, right? What child wouldn't want to feel closer to their parent?"

"If that was the case he could have gone way earlier, no? I mean, the one who knew his parents best was Jiang FengMian and he's not there anymore…"

"Yeah, but remember: neither is Yu-furen."

"Right. She hated CangSe-sanren, didn't she? I remember some nasty rumors about her and Wei ChangZe were spread over the years starting from Yu ZiYuan's marriage. I wouldn't be surprised if she was the only one who believed and actively spread them, to be honest."

"Hm. I see what you mean. So now that she's not there anymore, Lotus Pier is a safer place for Wei-sanren."

"That's a good thing for Jiang-zongzhu. She lost so much, but at the very least she gained a strong ally and friend."

"Friend? I'm afraid that's too little to describe what they have going on."

"What do you mean?"

"I was there today to deliver a few batches of silk they ordered, and I saw them together. It was so funny, he kept making little tricks and telling silly stories to see him smile. Jiang-zongzhu even said she felt like having a three-year-old younger brother. He kept bickering with Jin-gongzi over who makes her smile the most. You see, I always thought of Wei-sanren as this immensely powerful and scary being, but he is just a young man trying his best!"

"Oh…"

"That's adorable."

"It is! She was so kind too, to the both of them. Kept calling A-Xuan and A-Xian and giving head pats."

"Wait, who's 'A-Xian'?"

"Why, Wei-sanren, of course!"

"I thought his name was Wei Ying…?"

"Oh! It is! I thought it was his only name too, but when I met him there, he introduced himself as Wei WuXian."

"That's a good courtesy name."

"Indeed. And it fits him. He has no reason to envy anyone, after all… None that we know of, at least."

"So Wei-sanren and Jin-gongzi are getting along well too?"

"I think Wei-sanren has a good relationship with a lot of people, to be honest. I heard he made Nie-gongzi's new chair and he is actively supporting the reconstruction of Wen Qing's Clan as well as Lotus Pier. And I'm sure I don't need to say anything about Lan-er-gongzi."

"Oooh, right! He's always going out on Night Hunts with Lan-er-gongzi, huh? If they weren't two guys I'd think they'll become cultivation partners at this rate, hahaha."

"… You're not exactly wrong…"

"Ah? Ah! You're the OuYang boy, aren't you? Come here! Listening in to us ol' men conversation, huh?"

"I'm sorry. I got interested since Wei-sanren's name came up."

"No worries, we're all friends here!"

"Yeah! So, what did you mean by that?"

"You know I was sent to Wen RuoHan's indoctrination camp, right? So, after Wei-sanren came to get us, I ended up going down the mountain to pick my sword with Wen Qing's group, but realized I forgot my compass at home. Now, please, don't laugh at me! But I was afraid I'd get lost on the way home without it, so I went back to retrieve it, and…"

"… And what? Don't leave us hanging here, kid!"

"Wait, why are you getting so red?!"

"You see… I happened to see Wei-sanren and Lan-er-gongzi talking alone. I only caught the end of it, but they were very close and speaking very softly. What I heard… It sounded a lot like a confession."

"…"

"…"

"… A confession?"

"Yes."

"Maybe… They'll become sworn brothers?"

"Sir… I saw them kissing."

"… Oh."

"Wait, when did this happen?"

"Right after the XuanWu incident. The prison we were kept in was outside of Nightless City, separated by a mountain. So even though I was very close, I didn't actually realize what was going on until then. Besides… What I saw… I was too embarrassed to actually climb the rest of the way to the mountain and get the compass."

"Heh. Must have been a shocking experience for a young gentleman like you."

"It was, yeah. But not in a bad way, exactly. It just felt… Wrong, to intrude in such an intimate moment, that's all."

"Oh, my."

"Well, long live Wei-sanren and Lan-er-gongzi's romance, I guess!"

"You're having fun, aren't you?"

"Who wouldn't? Good people are getting what they want and the evil was destroyed! It's reason to celebrate, don't you think?"

"Let's celebrate properly when we get this beast, shall we?"

"I'll pay for the wine!"

"Ha! Now we're talking!"

Hope, by definition, is the main force propelling humans towards the future. Because they hope, they can dream, and because they dream, they can fight in the present. They can fight, and survive and thrive. In that sense, hope is, perhaps, the greatest factor behind a cultivator's strength.

Hope means nothing in the Burial Mounds of Yiling.

This place is a universe of its own. The end of all ends, from where not even ghosts and monsters can come back. The soil underneath is made of death and bones, and the sky above looks dull and lifeless even when there is sun. There is not a hint of vegetation in sight; at least, none that possesses any hint of life. Instead, sickly-looking dead trees and forests of blackened bamboo, fortified by resentful energy, are spread all over the place.

To think that a human being would have the power to tame this hopeless land and have the mental fortitude to come back long after finding freedom…

Wei Ying truly is a one-of-a-kind.

Wen Qing thought she knew this already, when he begged her to do the impossible and gave away a life of hard work for the sake of the undeserving. When Wei Ying promised to her brother back, uncaring for how low the chances were, all because he wanted to repay a debt that wasn't only his own. When he stood up against the world to protect what he believed to be the right thing, to save lives the world threw away like they meant nothing.

Maybe, just maybe, she was too blindsided by the sight of that boy crying on the roadside to Yiling, the boy that carried the weight of the world without a single soul to remember his name for years on end. She saw Wei Ying's fragility, his dreams, his hopes and his fears over the years—years over which they were allowed to just enjoy this new life and be themselves without the weight of an imminent death hovering over them.

But Wei Ying is strong, stronger than they'll ever be, strong enough to stay true to his core beliefs and head to this godsforsaken place. His capacity for doing good always surpasses her expectations. He, who has always prioritized what was right over his personal wishes, deserves love and happiness more than anyone else in this world.

She thinks of the night of her Clan's old home downfall under the claws of a monster called forth by Wei Ying. She remembers the exhaustion she saw on his face, the way he leaned against Lan WangJi for comfort—Lan WangJi, whose eyes didn't leave him for even a moment.

In her heart, Wen Qing prays that this be the last time Wei Ying ever needs to sacrifice a little of himself for an undeserving world. That once he leaves the Burial Mounds this time, it is to find the warmth of comfort of home and a love too big to put into proper words.

"We're here," he says in a quiet, tense voice.

Before them, a rocky peak rises from the ground. Its shape vaguely resembles a set of claws, like a monster attempted to emerge from the soil underneath only to be frozen in time before reaching its goal. Under this fearsome creation of nature, a dark passage opens and follows downwards. Wen Qing almost expects to feel the smell of ink and old incense come from within, for it was always present when this cave served as Wei Ying's home back then.

She remembers thinking the name Demon Slaughtering Cave to be horrible and nonsensical exaggeration. Only after she saw the blood pool in the depths of this cave, as well as the countless marks of beastly battles did she understand where Wei Ying was coming from. Ironically enough, this cave was also the place where Wei Ying, who was considered a demon by the cultivation world, perished.

They step into the cave in silence. Straining her ears, Wen Qing can make out the sound of dripping water—no, blood in the deepest part of the cave. She can also hear tiny steps, too small to be human and too creaky to be alive, all around the cave. Rats, she assumes, or their reminiscent skeleton forms that survived corrosion over decades, centuries.

Those sounds are all familiar, but distressingly loud. Wen Qing realizes: it's because her family isn't here. There's no A-Yuan laughing outside, begging Xian-gege to come out and play with him. There's no one groaning and grunting as they try to plant better crops for the following spring. No life, no family, no love left to mitigate the horror that goes on in this place.

"Save me…"

All hairs on Wen Qing's body stand on end at the sound of that small, broken voice.

"A-Xia… A-Xia, please answer me…"

"B-Baba!"

"Kill me… Heavens, please, just kill me…"

Those voices come one after the other, a string of never-ending laments and painful sobs. Men, women, elderly and children… They sound so, so broken, so terrified and hopeless… It reminds Wen Qing of how things were in the Jin labor camps, where Wen Qing was forced to witness her friends and family succumb to slow, painful deaths. A-Ning was one of them.

She draws in a sharp breath. Wen Qing is a doctor, an apothecary: she didn't care to raise her cultivation beyond the absolutely minimum required to administer qi treatments when needed. She can't see through the complete darkness of the cave and find the source of those different voices.

A talisman bursts into flames. Wei Ying raises his hand, letting the fire light up the cave.

Wen Qing gasps. There's a line of people standing on the wall. No, not standing: their hands are tied by thin golden threads above their bodies, and their toes barely brush the ground underneath. Even with the unstable shadows getting in the way, she can see that some of them carry horrendous bruises on their shoulders, and others have clearly dislocated bones from the suspension alone. A few small figures crouch near the wall. A group of children, perhaps just old enough to start helping their parents at work, all of them looking at Wen Qing with fearful eyes. On the ground, a small, fragile body lies limp. One of the women near the wall screams when she sees the child.

Her instincts kick in before she can fully process the horror of this scene. Wen Qing came here expecting a couple of missing men. Seven or eight, at best. And yet, at least twenty people of different ages and gender are reunited here. Some of them barely have any clothes on their bodies, long lost to an unfortunate living condition, and others have clothes that were clearly damaged by some kind of blade, or torn apart during the obvious beatings they were subjected to.

The woman who screamed has noticeably less clothes on her for a third reason altogether: she is probably a courtesan, and all the shorter ends of her clothes create an image that greatly emphasizes her curves. Wen Qing immediately understands that the child—probably A-Xia—is her daughter.

Wen Qing presses two fingers against the girl's neck, and leans closer to check her breathing. It's slow and weak, but still there. Her body is covered in sweat, the elevated temperature indicating a fever. Dehydration is Wen Qing's first worry at the realization. She reaches into her companion qiankun pouch and picks a medicinal tea out of it. As the little girl drinks it, Wen Qing can only hope this concoction will be enough to reduce the fever until these people can get back to safety. Wen Ning and his subordinates are waiting on the foot of the mountain, ready to take care of the wounded.

"Deity binding cables… This is the work of a cultivator," Wei Ying hisses, anger seeping into his voice. That tone of voice is so abysmally different from the gentleness with which he brings the victims down one by one it leaves Wen Qing stunned.

She shakes her head. She can't believe it. No, she refuses to believe it. No matter how terrible, the bastards among cultivators have enough self-awareness to avoid hurting the common people directly. Even Wen RuoHan wouldn't attack them like this—he would rather attack strong Clans head on and claim the glory of defeating whoever it is later—, and he is, was the bastard among bastards.

"But why?" Her voice comes out weakly. Why would anyone do this? Why target the tired, the weak and the vulnerable? Just… Why?

Wen Qing can't understand it… Not until she remembers that, sometimes, there is no answer. Some people do horrible things for no other reason than I wanted to. One such person is perhaps the greatest force behind Wei Ying's downfall, back then.

She heard whispers of truths on the way to her own execution, of how Jiang WanYin was the one who kept the entirety of the cultivation world updated on Wei Ying's situation, and how shocking it was when he returned with news that Wei Ying called himself the enemy of the cultivation world. Wen Qing knew better than anyone that it was all a lie. She just couldn't understand it. Wouldn't it benefit Jiang WanYin more to just cut ties with Wei Ying, rather than invite negative rumors surrounding his parents' upbringing and his Clan? Even though she couldn't forgive his silence back when Wen Ning died, it was still reasonable within the expectation of corrupt Clan Leaders!

But that?

But this?

Her lips tremble. "It's him, isn't it?"

She can't think of anyone as unreasonably vile as Jiang WanYin in this world. Jiang WanYin, who went missing since that night, who was seen near the place where Wen ZhuLiu was killed, who can't think of anyone but himself and what benefits him.

If there is anyone in the cultivation world capable of such cruelty, of such cowardice… It can only be him.

"What would he gain from this?" Wen Qing can't think of anything. Nothing, to justify the absurdness of this situation.

Wei Ying puts the last person down. His expression is darker than any other Wen Qing saw on his face. "One hundred lives, remember?"

Oh.

Shit.

How could she have forgotten? One hundred sacrifices, whose blood is the vessel to activate the spell—the forbidden array located at Wen RuoHan's Sun Palace, the curse that manufactured this brokenly altered reality. There has never been any specific requirement as to who those sacrifices should be.

"Qing-jie, I have a request to make." Wei Ying looks at her. Under the trembling talisman's light, he looks like the very incarnation of a wrathful god. "Please, take care of these people. Take them back to safety and on my end… I'll finish this."

Wen Qing purses her lips. Part of her wants to argue. She is the Clan Leader now. She shouldn't have to listen to anyone's orders anymore… But Wei Ying is free. A rogue cultivator sharing bits and pieces of his ingenuity with the world, a precious child who gave her the honor of being his jie. Though frustration still simmers under her skin, Wen Qing still trusts him, and knows he's just trying to do what's best for them. For all of them… And for himself.

What kind of big sister would deny her siblings the room they need to grow?

"Come back safe," is all she can say now.

Wei Ying smiles. "I will."

"Hey, hey, hey! Blacksmith Yao is back!"

"Not only him! A-Xing, A-Yu and Xiao Tao all came back safe and alive!"

"Thank goodness!"

"What happened to them?!"

"I dunno yet. They didn't talk to anyone."

"Who brought them back?"

"A group of cultivators! They sent two people into the Burial Mounds this morning and a while later all the missing people came running down the mountain. A miracle, really!"

"Are they alright?"

"They were very hurt, but there's no life risk anymore. The doctors are treating them right now."

"I heard there were people missing from other villages too!"

"Yeah, they were rescued too!"

"Man, Blacksmith Yao's wife must be so happy now."

"His son, too! The boy was missing his father terribly."

"All ends well when it ends well, huh?"

"This still makes me think… Who would do this?"

"Whoever it is, those flying guys will give 'em what they deserve for sure!"

"That's how we like it!"

They said Jiang Cheng was destined to greatness. He was born under an auspicious star, the heir of a prominent Clan and the son of the renowned Violet Spider. He lacked nothing, be it support or opportunity. His future was guaranteed from the moment he was born: he would be the next Jiang-zongzhu without a shred of doubt. A golden child indeed, one that brought unparalleled happiness to his Clan upon his birth.

Jiang Cheng had everything. He could be the best of his generation. He should have been the best of his generation. His golden core was there. He had all the potential.

And yet.

And yet, Jiang Cheng can do nothing but freeze under the weight of a blade against his neck. The blade itself is dark and cracked along the edges. The hilt has an intricate carving that vaguely resembles a lotus flower, extremely beautiful even with the first signs of rust accumulating over the black metal. It must have made for a formidable spiritual sword one day, but now it was rendered dull and lifeless. It would be shocking if anyone could use it to cut anything.

Its wielder isn't just anyone, however.

Eyes of a gray even darker than the sword narrow at Jiang Cheng. "Let him go, Jiang-gongzi."

Jiang Cheng snarls. His grip on the small knife tightens instead, and so does the grip of his other hand. The human child in his hand, a commoner with no worth or prospect in life, shrieks louder in pain. If he struggles just a little more, Jiang Cheng will cut the carotid, and then all the work he had to grab this lowlife back to the mountain will be for naught.

"Leave." A voice that Jiang Cheng barely recognizes as his own. It's weak and hoarse, with hints of madness seeping into his words. No, that's wrong. He's not mad. He's the only enlightened person in this world. He is better than all of them. They are the mad ones for accepting this world, this reality as it is. "Leave!"

The sword presses deeper against his throat. It feels strangely warm—warm with the spiritual energy that's being poured into it. The blade gains an ember of life, and makes the tiniest of cuts on his skin. It burns with the small, small drop of blood that falls.

"I'll say it one more time." There's a coldness in that voice that brings forth the horrors of war and loss. "Let. Him. Go."

"No!" Jiang Cheng snarls back. No. Never. He'll never do what he's telling him, not now, not ever!

"… As you wish."

Everything happens too fast. One moment, Jiang Cheng is under swordpoint, knife in one hand and hostage on the other. Then, he is on his back, staring at the cloudy skies of the Burial Mounds. The knife clatters when it falls, a dull sound that Jiang Cheng's brain is barely able to process. The child is still wailing—but this time, with clear relief in his voice.

Then, the pain comes.

Jiang Cheng presses his hand to his abdomen. It's warm. Warm and wet. He glances down at his fingers. They're shaking violently. The digits are painted crimson.

He was stabbed. He is bleeding. That stupid, old sword that shouldn't be able to cut a feather cut through his skin and organs. It hurts. How dare? How dare he?! How dare he?!

"Wei WuXian!" Jiang Cheng hollers. It's an ugly sound. It's inhuman. Broken. Hopeless. The cry of a child who was promised everything and lost everything. The hatred of an adult who can't forgive nor move on.

"Jiang Cheng…" Wei WuXian's voice comes in a soft whisper. There is no energy left in it, he's too tired to care, too tired to keep fighting. It's a voice Jiang Cheng remembers well. It's the same voice he had when he told Jiang Cheng's the words that gave him back the hope he needed to live. "So it really was you."

Jiang Cheng's lips curve into a smile. He pushes his upper body up with his elbow. His free hand keeps pressing on the wound. The wound Wei WuXian opened. This ungrateful bastard. After everything he did, he still dares attack him!

"You should have seen it… The face you made when you saw Princess, Love and Jasmine… How did it feel, to see A-Die turning his back on you? Hm? Did it hurt?" His voice comes out in heaving pants. Jiang Cheng's skin is turning paler by the second as blood seeps into his clothes.

Something dark crosses Wei WuXian's eyes. His expression doesn't change. "So it was all part of your plan." The sword in his hand catches the light—no, it's not the sunlight, but the light of the spiritual energy simmering within. It's Wei WuXian's spiritual energy. "Say, Jiang Cheng… Was it worth it? Doing all this, forcing me out of the picture… Did it bring you what you wanted?"

"Of course it was!" Jiang Cheng spits. His mouth is filled with an odd metallic taste. "I am the Head Disciple of Yunmeng Jiang! Didn't you know? That means A-Die had to pay attention to me and only me! I am the strongest in my Clan, the way it was always supposed to be! A-Jie, too, was never disgraced by your actions! And A-Niang—"

"Is that all that matters to you?" Wei WuXian dares interrupt again. His face is twisted with an expression that Jiang Cheng doesn't recognize. "You, being the center of all attention? The strongest? You dared play with time itself for this?!"

"It's my destiny!" Jiang Cheng glares at him. "My Clan fell once because it was weak. Because you had to play the hero. Someone had to fix your mistakes!"

"You're crazy." Wei WuXian shakes his head. There's disbelief clear on his face. "How does this fix anything…?"

"It would have worked if you weren't here!" Jiang Cheng coughs. The metallic tang of blood gets strong. He spits again, and this time it's colored red. "You—You should have died at Yiling. A worthless child in a worthless city. But you had to survive, and you had to make a legend for yourself! Hypocrite!"

"I never wanted to be one. Wait… Jiang Cheng… Nie-xiong…"

"What about that useless rat? He's not even a real cultivator. Why is he of any importance?" Jiang Cheng's gaze falls to the thrown away knife. If only he could reach it…

At the same time, a skeleton hand emerges from the ground. It grabs the knife tightly, and pulls it back into the ground with its white bones. Jiang Cheng's eyes snap back to Wei WuXian, but Wei WuXian isn't looking at him. He's looking down, curling around the child in his arms. His hands cover the boy's ears, but his lips still move almost silently.

He's comforting that child.

He is choosing to focus on that lowlife instead of Jiang Cheng. Ignored. Jiang Cheng is being ignored. Again, for the sake of someone else, he's being left behind. It was the same with Lan WangJi, with that servant at the XuanWu cave, with the Wen-dogs—Wei WuXian's loyalty was never with him. Never. Time and time again, he chose others over Jiang Cheng. He betrayed Jiang Cheng.

"My only mistake was not killing you myself when I found you on that street!" His entire body shakes with rage. That's right. If only Jiang Cheng had killed Wei WuXian back then… Then his plan would have been perfect.

"You couldn't. Even if you had tried, it wouldn't work." Wei WuXian's voice is barely a whisper. His words hit Jiang Cheng with the force of a thunder. "You're weak, Jiang Cheng. You've always been weak. Now, more than ever… You lost your golden core, didn't you?"

Jiang Cheng grits his teeth. That night, when his home was burned, he went after Wen Chao. After killing Wang LingJiao with the Zidian his mother secretly gave him, his only goal was to kill as many Wen-dogs as he could until he reached his target.

Wen ZhuLiu reached him before he could move to the third boat.

If not for his own weakness, why would Jiang Cheng content himself with gathering weak and pathetic sacrifices for the new spell? If he had his golden core, he could easily surrender entire villages and kill them all at once. It would be so much easier… Not as efficient as using the blood of willing cultivators, but it was good enough.

He gasps. "You… You didn't go to BaoShan-sanren mountain this time. Take me back there right now!" Jiang struggles to sit up, and then to stand up. When his strength fails him, he falls hopelessly to his knees. "You… You caused the fall of my Clan again! You have to repay for your sin. Do you hear me, Wei WuXian?!"

"… My sin?" Wei WuXian looks at him with pity. "Jiang Cheng, I had nothing to do with Lotus Pier. It was all your own doing. Your loss of control led to your father's death, and your incompetence would have destroyed the world regardless. Did you? This spell has a very special effect… If it's not casted carefully, there'll be creaks. Leaks. Some people will remember even if they shouldn't. Like me. Lan Zhan. Wen RuoHan."

No… This can't be. Jiang Cheng did everything right. He is sure of it. If he did, the other leaders would have warned him if they noticed anything amiss. That fox Jin GuangYao wouldn't stand for mistakes. The spell was nothing but perfect.

"You… You tampered with it, didn't you?! No one found your soul. You were free to do as you pleased! You weren't satisfied with just destroying my Clan and causing my family's death. A-Niang, A-Die, A-Jie, Jin ZiXuan… You would never be satisfied until you killed me too, would you?!"

"Jiang Cheng… I was already dead. Whatever happened in the past, I paid for it with my life. I paid my debt, and I didn't care anymore. I'm not you." Wei WuXian's gaze falls to Jiang Cheng's bloodied abdomen. "You shouldn't push yourself too much. You'll die at this rate."

"Like you care! It's all your fault! You ruined me and now you're trying to kill me! Coward!"

"Nonsense. I stabbed you in the same place you stabbed me. Remember? In our staged fight, when I broke your arm. You cut me with Sandu exactly like this." Wei WuXian's eyes darken. "You were already trying to kill me back then, weren't you? You always wanted me dead… You…"

"A-Ying!"

"Ying-ge!"

Jiang Cheng freezes. This voice… He remembers this voice. It was there when he needed hope the most, guiding him through and out of the path of despair. It followed him in his dreams for years on end, always reminding him of what he was given, the blessing no one else in this world could have had.

It's BaoShan-sanren's voice.

But the person who appears on the path is not an ancient, wise-looking woman. It's a young woman with worry written all over her face, running very inelegantly in her white and crimson robes. Her hair falls in a dark brown curtain, swaying left and right as she approaches.

The colors of the Wen Clan. The face of a mortal. The voice of Jiang Cheng's savior.

"Qing-jie." Wei WuXian's voice sounds almost relieved. He puts the child on the ground. "Wen Ning, take him back now. Please."

Wen Ning. Wen Ning!

Jiang Cheng's entire body shakes. Wen Ning is here. He is here. He dares appear in front of him again, following Wei WuXian like the obedient mad dog he is! Even in this world, even without his memories…

"A-Jie…"

"It's okay. Do as he says. We'll follow you right after," Wen Qing says in a distressingly familiar voice. Then, her eyes turn back to Wei WuXian. "Are you okay? This bastard didn't hurt you, did he?"

"He can't hurt me, don't worry. He'll never be able to again." Wei WuXian's small smile is nothing short of nauseating to see.

Wen Qing pauses. She looks at Jiang Cheng up and down. Her eyes widen. "He…"

"Mn. Wen ZhuLiu caught him again. His core is gone." Wei WuXian has not a single hint of sympathy in his voice when he tells her the truth.

Jiang Cheng's shameful secret, outed in the air so easily to a stranger, an enemy, someone he swore to kill as many times as it takes for him to be free… And yet, he can't understand it. Why is Wen Qing's voice the same as BaoShan-sanren's? Why… Why does Jiang Cheng feel like he's missing something crucial to understand this situation?

"He told me to take him back to BaoShan-sanren," Wei WuXian adds, almost as an afterthought. He shakes his head. "As if he didn't prove my decision wrong back then."

Wen Qing visibly relaxes at those words. "Good… Good. He doesn't deserve anything anymore. Your sympathy… And your sacrifice, they should only be given to someone willing to give you just as much in return."

"Sacrifice?" Jiang Cheng's voice trembles. The ground around him is growing redder by the second. Something rumbles under him. "What 'sacrifice'? He owed me that golden core! He is—He is the reason for everything! So what if he lost his right to see BaoShan-sanren? It was my Clan who let him live that long at all!"

"All this time… Everything you did, and you still don't know?" Wen Qing's voice shakes. There's rage there. She dares be angry at him when she destroyed everything Jiang Cheng had.

That's right… If Wen Qing didn't go to Yunmeng back then, if she didn't beg Wei WuXian to leave the Jiang Clan and start a fight with the Jins, nothing would have happened! Wei WuXian… A-Jie, they would have stayed with Jiang Cheng forever! Following him, the leader of the Jiang Clan, as they were meant to be!

He grits his teeth. Something cold brushes against his fingertips, buried in the tainted soil.

"Did you really believe Wei Ying knew where BaoShan-sanren's mountain was? He was only five when his parents died, and his mother made an oath to never reveal the location to anyone ever. How could he, who barely remembered his parents' face, know something like this?" Wen Qing takes a step forward. She's too small to hide Wei WuXian behind her, but it's as though she's trying anyway. In this sense, for the briefest of moments, she resembles Jiang YanLi. "No… Your BaoShan-sanren's mountain was just an ordinary barren hill in Yiling. One among countless others out there. There wasn't even a meaning to that choice, either."

"You… What are you… I…?"

"I was there. I saw you. Black cloth over your eyes, a long branch in your hands… You looked so anxious when you heard the bells. And yet you answered all those questions with such confidence. You talked of your home's destruction, of the war, of parents who weren't yours, claiming a name that didn't belong to you… And then that sweet smell came, and you were unconscious for two days."

"You… You couldn't… You—"

"A-Ning was there, too. He was the one who held you when you fell. And A-Ying… He was ready to make it work. To give you what you needed to survive… His golden core, to replace the one you lost." Wen Qing's voice fails. Her eyes glisten with unshed tears. "Two nights and one day, going through the worst of pains just to save you. And how did you repay it? Tell me, Jiang WanYin, what did you do?!"

Jiang Cheng's throat feels dry. His thoughts are in absolute disarray. He can't understand. No, it's not that he can't—he doesn't want to understand. What it means, what it makes him, the implications…

"You're lying," he settles. His voice is but a weak whisper. "You… You have no proof! Hahaha, it's all a lie! That's all you do, you lie and betray and—!"

A gasp escapes Jiang Cheng's lips. He looks at his hand. His hand, which was pressed against the ground, was sucked into it, disappearing under the dirt. A skeleton hand wraps around his wrist, an inescapable grip Jiang Cheng has no power to get away from.

More hands emerge from the ground, wrapping around his limbs, grabbing his clothes, trying to pull him down with all their might. They're the corpses of the people thrown into the Burial Mounts. Fierce, furious spirits who can't move on from the past, yearning for a chance to see the light again.

They were in deep slumber until now, their thirst quenched by Wei WuXian's cleansing procedures of the Burial Mounds over the years. However, they were just offered fresh blood of a youth bustling with yang energy—Jiang Cheng's blood, that still escapes through the stab wound and colors the ground red.

"Stop—Stop them! You can do it! They're corpses, you control corpses, make it stop!" he yells at Wei WuXian. "Save me!"

But Wei WuXian doesn't move. He just watches as those sickeningly white bones reach Jiang Cheng's neck, slender fingers slowly wrapping around the skin. His face is full of emotions: anger, sadness, grief, despair, resignation.

Crack.

Jiang Cheng's neck twists in an odd angle. His entire body grows limp, his face eternally frozen in a furious glare. The face of a man who lost everything he had through actions of his own and yet will never be able to admit his own guilt.

His corpse is pulled into the ground, never to be seen again. One last hand stays behind, holding out a brilliant object.

Wei WuXian kneels down. It is a beautifully intricate silver ring, with a purple gem in the middle. It's Zidian, the weapon that killed Wang LingJiao and caused the wound that led to Jiang FengMian's death, the weapon that drew an array of scars on Wei WuXian's back a lifetime ago.

That life doesn't exist anymore. There are no Zidian scars on his back anymore. The pain caused by Yu ZiYuan is but a distant, fading memory now.

"Thank you," he whispers to the bony hand.

It is over. The last person who knew of the spell and would try to remake it is gone. There is no danger of going through this again.

Wei WuXian—Wei Ying is free.

"Wei Ying."

"Hm? What is it, Lan Zhan? Is you leg hurting, after all? Come, come, I'll carry you."

"No need… We are alone now."

"Ah, ahahahaha, as expected of Lan Zhan! Your observations are always on—Okay, okay, I'm stopping, no need to glare at me like that!"

"I am not glaring."

"Oh? Uh. Right. You're still the same. Sorry."

"No need to apologize."

"Lan Zhan, you're too good to me. But, yeah, we're alone now."

"Mn."

"Are you going to tell me now? What happened after I died."

"Mn… The Clans tried to summon your soul. They did it for six years without pause. Then, they gave up… Until they found that."

"The spell."

"Mn. It was revealed in a Discussion Conference then. Xiongzhang was a guest. He told me everything. Some Clans rejected it, but the ones that mattered accepted it wholeheartedly."

"The Four Great Clans, I assume."

"Yes."

"Let me guess, Jin GuangShan and Jiang Cheng were the first to support it?"

"Jiang WanYin did, indeed. Jin-zongzhu had already passed."

"Oh. Then… Jin GuangYao?"

"He proposed the date. Jiang WanYin, the place. Nie-zongzhu chose the sacrifices."

"… So they were all involved."

"Xiongzhang didn't take part… But he did not try to stop it."

"What about you, Lan Zhan? I'm sure you were against it, too."

"I was recovering then. I… could not leave."

"You were hurt. Why?"

"Punishment."

"Ah… Lan Zhan, remember that Night Hunt at Yueling? I overdid it and you ended up carrying me back. The feeling was very familiar. Since then, I've always been wondering… I don't remember going back to Yiling after the massacre at Nightless City. Did you…? Is that why…?"

"… Let the past be."

"Hm. You're right. Sor—Oh, right, no need to apologize."

"Wei Ying?"

"Yes?"

"I have no regrets."

"Ah—Ah, Lan Zhan, you… Uh, so, would you perhaps know who casted the spell?"

"The person and time were not disclosed beforehand."

"Hm… Makes sense. If they knew who would do it, there could be a disagreement between the supportive parties, and it would also open up the caster for a surprise attack. I don't think they'd run through this kind of risk."

"It's a Clan Leader."

"Oh! But of course. Only someone of high and noble birth could be entrusted with the fate of the world, huh."

"You are not fine."

"Nonsense, Lan Zhan! I am absolutely fine! I mean… You said it, right? It's all in the past. That past does not exist anymore. We're changing everything… This time, I won't let them die."

"Wei Ying. You saved..."

"…"

"A-Yuan survived the siege."

"He… Lan Zhan, you… How—"

"I could not leave… Couldn't leave him behind."

"Oh… I-I see."

"…"

"Lan Zhan?"

"Yes?"

"Did he… Did he remember?"

"… His memories were lost."

"Ah."

"He had a fever."

"Hm. I understand now. Thank goodness. At least… At least he didn't have to deal with nightmares."

"Mn."

"Lan Zhan."

"Mn."

"Thank you."

"No need for thanks."

"Hahaha, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, you're the best, you know that? Okay, okay, no thank yous and I'm sorrys between us. Good. That sounds great. I like it. I love it!"

"… Mn."

"Hey, Lan Zhan… I still have a lot of things to do. I have to help Qing-jie a bit still, and I also want to check on shijie. There's also catching the caster before they try anything funny again. But… After I'm done with everything… Will you come get me?"

"I will."

"You know I don't mean it in a just pick me up way, right?"

"..."

"Lan Zhan, I... I want to travel with you. And Night Hunt with you. Forever. For as long as you want me."

"..."

"And hug you. And kiss you. And do whatever with you. Anything. I-I want to be with you what my parents were."

"..."

"Only if you also want that, I mean! I—"

"Wei Ying."

"Yes?!"

"It is a promise."

"Ah, ahahaha. You really—Lan Zhan, you..."

"Mn."

"I also want a donkey. And a little one. We'll need a little one, Lan Zhan."

"We'll wait for A-Yuan."

"Mn. Mn! Good… I'll be waiting for you then. And, Lan Zhan?"

"What?"

"I love you!"

"..."

"Ah, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, you should see your face! Hahahaha."

"... I love you too."

"Ah—!"

"I want to travel with you, Night Hunt with you, hug you, kiss you—"

"Wah, no, stop! My heart is weak, Lan Zhan, you can't just do this to me! And, and—You're—Mnph!"

"..."

"..."

"..."

"Ah... LAN ZHAN!"

There was a child lingering in the outskirts of the cultivation world. This child has grown, found a name, a family, a dream to live for. Those who met him all saw the same vision: a young man dressed in black with a sword on his back, a dizi hanging from his waist and a dazzling smile always on his face. He is a gentle person. He helps all that he can, working towards making a better world on his own terms. He is a warrior. His most trusted people are those from his generation who share the same ideals. He is an awe-inspiring existence, someone worth fighting for, who they wish to fight side by side with.

With all this, one thing is for sure: Wei Ying is unforgettable.

And now—

He runs through the bridge. Lotuses sway over the water, a beautiful, breathtaking sight. Wisteria trees grow on the nearby shores, marking the end of Lotus Pier and the start of a new phase of his life.

A familiar figure in white stands on the other side. His glass-like eyes look at Wei Ying with fondness and love. His lips curve in the softest of smiles.

Wei Ying's own lips curve into a huge grin. His eyes squint into crescent, tears of joy rolling down his cheeks. He opens his arms, throwing himself into this new future.

"Lan Zhan!"

—he finally got home.

Notes:

The end!

.

.

.

For now :3

Notes:

If you want to read more from me/support me, consider following me on Twitter. Be aware that my profile is NSFW and I like/retweet/write problematic/dead dove content.

The artworks that'll be present in this fic were made by the fantastic Baph! Please follow them and give them lots of love on Twitter and Tumblr!

Series this work belongs to:

Part 1 of To Be Forgotten

Actions

Top Bookmark Comments (75)

Kudos

soso_yoongi, LanMingYue, DeliaRaNar, ohvantae, XianXian26, goiGyu, Silverbowl, bl0524, ANN130513, Chibi_Kirkland, Leensy, scenery_823, tsk, ytXoXoP10, SpareAsterisks, Bakura52, NMNF, Keychan, CarvyArchive, Azriel_DarkLight, LadyEnfys, sweetonjimin, SevenSneakyFoxes, Abka_Aten, Mirilly, iamladyliberty, Bloomingstars, Lolz_Panda, ttittymilkk, Seramarias, MISSYriver, origamirobot, thamaddox, mexicantt, KotiiOxidi, TheLightOfDarkness95, Willow_Tardiviel, Love_of_Divine, veraity, rashmipramitha, LokiNyx, love_slash_in_every_fandom, Gabsisdead, Dharte, beccaaahhhh, lmbgts, Th0rnB1rd, sakira35, TheLonelyBookshelf, The_Shadows, and 439 more users as well as 168 guests left kudos on this work!

Comments

Post Comment

Comment as DemonOfADiamond(Plain text with limited HTML ?)

Comment

10000 characters left

Footer

Customize

Default

Low Vision Default

Reversi

Snow Blue

About the Archive

Site Map

Diversity Statement

Terms of Service

DMCA Policy

Contact Us

Policy Questions Abuse Reports

Technical Support Feedback

Development

otwarchive v0.9.325.8

Known Issues

GPL by the OTW