A/N: So I know I've been gone for awhile, but quiet musings and plotting have still been going on in the background about this fic. Though, not gonna lie, this chapter was fighting me a bit. I ended up cutting half the content I originally planned for this chapter cause it was getting too long. But anywho, hope this update is a welcome surprise.
Also SO MANY KIDS RUNNING AROUND IN THIS CHAPTER. OMG WHY DID I DO THIS TO MYSELF. So. Many. NAMES.
Some content/trigger warnings for this chapter include: warnings for violence and child death/death in general (not present day), specifically descriptions of past events during the Sunshot Campaign and Wen Ruohan's use of demonic cultivation. A pov from a character experiencing grief and trauma from those events. If you think I missed a warning for something else, lemme know (idk, maybe sleepy isn't the best time to be editing and posting, but that's the time I got rn, lol).
Also! Happy Early Halloween! As a early TREAT rather than TRICK, here's a new chapter rather than waiting until Wei Wuxian's birthday! :D
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Chapter 19: The Hunt: A Demonic Cultivator Approaches
Fang GenPei scowled and kicked at the forest floor. She glanced at her senior's back petulantly, before looking back down, Her eyes burning as she swallowed uncomfortably. Ever since yesterday she'd been confined to the camp. They hadn't even let her leave the female disciple's tent except to relieve herself, and a shimei had been told to bring her dinner, rather than letting Fang GenPei sit with everyone else around the fire. Which had been embarrassing, and hurt her pride. Not to mention lonesome.
She knew she had behaved poorly, and in a way, knowing that she had behaved wrong, knowing she had been a disappointment to her sect and a bad example to her younger sect siblings, hurt even more. She'd just been so, so angry .
Shu XunZhe had not been happy after he'd got back from meeting with the Jiang Sect Leader and the Tao Sect Heir. As a smaller sect it was already important that they keep good relations with their neighbors and the larger sects, and it had become even more important after all the casualties and material damage they'd suffered during the war. Getting in a brawl was already distasteful, let alone at a big professional gathering like a night hunt. Because that's what group hunts were, even if they were guised to be fun.
Which is what he'd heavily reminded her. That she knew better. That attacking a junior barely old enough to wield their sword (however inadvertently) was downright shameful. And that insulting the family of a sect leader, let alone the heir of another sect was just a diplomatic incident waiting to happen. Foolish. Irresponsible.
She had snuck away from camp while they'd been setting up, in order to get more talisman paper for a shidi who'd forgot to bring his. She'd scolded him for the oversight and firmly impressed the dire straights he could have found himself in if had he failed to realize his ill-preparedness before the hunt had started. But since he'd been contrite, she'd decided to fetch him some more rather than get him in trouble, since he'd come forward rather than try to hide it after making the discovery.
She had run into Gang ShangXun and his friends mingling with others at the market, when they'd heard the Jiang juniors walk by, debating the various merits of their seniors. And then Fang GenPei had heard them mention Wei Wuxian and then she just started following them! Because who in their right mind would dare admire a person like that! Demonic cultivation was evil, she had seen that first hand. It was a knowledge that had settled deep into her bones, like a lead weight. And acid.
So, she'd followed them. And Gang ShangXun, brat that he is, had followed her. And then everything else had happened. She could barely remember what she'd said, to be honest. It was like her mind had just whited out. And the next thing she'd remembered was the crack of Sect Leader Jiang's whip and seeing some black clothed senior carrying off a bloody jiang junior about the same age as her own young shidi she'd been trying to help. And fighting back guilt laced tears at realizing jiejie's favorite summer robe, that Fang GenPei had finally grown old enough to wear, had been ruined.
Shu XunZhe said that the only reason he was even letting her participate in the hunt today was because otherwise they'd have to deal with an uneven number, and they couldn't let someone else risk hunting partner-less, nor did another deserve to be denied the experience due to her own folly.
Fang GenPei felt her eyes burning, it wasn't fair !
Everyone knew that Demonic Cultivation was bad . She closed her eyes, aggressively rubbing at them, and ignored the sympathetic look that Zhao ShanHou sent her way.
She hadn't been there that day. She'd joined the sect after the war. One of many opportunists, filling a vacancy left behind. Filling the voids of people who should have been there . Taking someone else's place. Taking Peng Rui's place as her partner . Taking the place where her laughter should have stood on this nighthunt. She got to smile in the dining hall seat Ai Gu had always favoured, complaining about the warm sun that Ai Gui had always loved because her hands were always cold. Instead of his steady smile and quick wit, Zhao ShanHou filled Shan Zhou's top place in the classroom.
The stranger who now slept in what had been Fang ChunBao's room.
An interloper, who got to live and breathe in their space. While they were just gone .
She wasn't there when the corpses came, crawling over each over as they tore down their walls. Subsuming it in one massive wave. Ripping each other and everything else into pieces. Rippling outwards, bloody and terrifying.
Zhao ShanHou wasn't there when Shu ShangHu stepped between Fang GenPei and a corpse's jaws only for ShangHu-ge to rise up moments later blank-eyed and bleeding, skin cracked and glowing an awful terrible orange and red. Eyes like white marbles. Their kind-hearted and fastidious shixiong who had never worn less than three robes even in summer, standing weaponless and barefoot, his pajamas in tatters, dirty and revealing. As he jerked to some perverse puppet-master's tune.
To feel hope and safety rise in your chest as he impossibly stood, stumbling and bleeding. Only for him to turn back towards you-revealing blank eyes and quickly blackening veins after one of their teacher's gave a lethal blow that failed to stick and prevent the attack-before turning and killing their littlest shimei. His baby sister. Who used to sneak across the dormitories after curfew to sleep in her big brother's bed, her favorite blanket in her arms, whenever she had nightmares about impossible things that could be hiding in her closet, or under the bed. Because he made her feel safe.
He made everyone feel safe.
She wanted them back.
She wanted her friends and family back .
She wanted her a-jie back .
To not even have their bodies left behind by the demonic cultivator. Never to be recovered. Just a dawning sun over an empty bloody courtyard, as if mocking the fact that a fight had ever occurred. As if the survivor's weren't worth anything. The TingzheShu hadn't won. Wen Ruohan had just left. Leaving you afraid that the few remaining injured might suddenly rise and attack you, too.
An easy excursion. Not to eliminate a threat. Just an experiment. To gather more soldiers. Cold. Empty. Clinical.
And for someone like that to be praised a hero. To get to associate with others in polite society. To be a rich young master and live without a care in the world. To have others flock to his side, exalting him and feeding on his leavings, like a bunch of carrion flies.
She glared at Zhao Shanhou's back, as she swiped at her eyes once more. It was the same robe from yesterday-they hadn't let her go out and wash it. Despite her best efforts there were still flakes of dried mud on it. She stared at the protective sigils that Fang ChunBao had painstakingly embroidered into it, all those years ago. Specially made for her first nighthunt. A maid had helped her let out the sleeves, and the hem was a couple inches too short. She'd promised to make one for Fang Genpei's first nighthunt, too.
She wanted to cry all over again.
Zhao Shanhou glanced back at her again. The slightly older girl had a thin angular face and small narrow eyes with very flat straight eyebrows, which were both currently narrowed and furrowed in concern.
Fang GenPei continued to ignore her, instead counting the heads of her surrounding sect mates. Due to the war leaving them with such a small class of juniors, and the purported ease of this nighthunt, they'd brought some younger disciples than would have been typical before. Their senior had decided to send them in alone to carry out the hunt under their own initiative, as a test, whilst he followed from afar. He'd probably paying more attention to the younger years too. Just because she had to work with Zhao Shanhou didn't mean she had to look at her. She'd finish this nighthunt, do the responsible thing, and then go home. It didn't make them friends.
She counted heads again.
Fang GenPei ignored the smile falling from Zhao Shanhou's face as she brushed past her.
When a black veined yao jumped out at her she didn't even think, just started swinging. She did bat an eye when a little while later Zhao Shanhou spun around and punched a decrepit walking corpse so hard in the chest it was like she'd thrown the last remnants of a living soul out of it, it went down so fast. For a second, she could have swore she saw the remnants of a tattered spirit behind it. But then she was ducking under another janky corpse- they were probably the caravan that had gone missing a few weeks ago. She gave a nod for the save, but refused to smile back.
And like that, they kept walking.
…
White feather-light sleeves had been carefully tied back. Long fluffy red-brown hair, was pulled neatly away from his darker eyes. There had been some on his travels, who had inquired if the hairstyle was new to him. If the outer edges had once habitually been on-top, and thus had been sun-kissed, making some areas lighter. The questions had been politely laughed away. (He did not countenance the act of lying, though he understood the need for secrets).
Some of the hairs hung loose about his handsome face, a few coarser than the rest.
A horsehair wisk had been placed carefully to the side. A bronze scabbard sat across his back. It's face decorated by frost-patterned cut-outs that revealed an ethereal silver, glinting blade.
His lean figure was kneeling, with a serious sort of grace that wouldn't be remiss to find in an ancestral hall. His silver vambraces glittered in the artificial twilight of the surrounding forest. His visage was like something a character might catch a glimpse of in a storybook. Caught between the winding trees. Like a great forest guardian of old. There one minute, and gone the next.
The scent of blood and petrichor was thick in the surrounding air.
It was unclear which was more overpowering. All-consuming. The scent, or the thick, sound-dampening mists, that hung like a shroud over Jin Wu Senlin, and was ever-growing.
Xiao Xingchen stared down at the body of the water deer before him. Feeling cold and sad and tired, and all sorts of other things.
Mostly though, he just felt lonely. And sad.
He'd almost finished digging the grave, when he felt a disturbance in the air. And he looked up. His dark eyes, for a moment, seeming to flash red.
At first, it was just a barely discernible shadow, before a man suddenly appeared amongst the trees. Just another silhouette. His hair and clothes blending together and bleeding into the darkened background.
He was older than the young kneeling man, though by how much, it was difficult to tell. In the way of the oldest, the most etherial cultivators.
He had a round, angular face. And stood silently watching him over a long narrow nose. About which he sported a foreboding expression, that well-masked an underlying concern. (Which Xiao Xingchen knew to be there from previous experience.) But the most striking thing about his appearance, was not the silver which streaked his hair and beard. But his brilliantly luminous amber eyes.
The older man came to a stop before the two figures on the ground.
" Kit".
The younger did not stop in what he was doing. Another spadeful of soil hit the growing pile.
The man stared at him. "Shidi".
A pair of dark eyes finally looked up, before glancing down again. He sniffed, but didn't let another tear fall. "I suppose this would only serve to prove your earlier point?"
The older man shook his head softly, grimacing.
"It is okay to cry."
"I thought if I came, if I could just ask questions directly, I could find something. But it has been months. And I have learned nothing that which hasn't been known before."
Another spadeful of dirt hit the pile. Xiao Xingchen ignored the droplet of water that followed it.
"You thought a different methodology could be useful, that it could help more people. There is nothing shameful in that."
The younger shook his head, like he couldn't tell if he should be more angry or to cry.
"Or maybe it was just conceited, and naive. Trying to succeed where my elders' had failed. In an area I was often warned against."
"Just because something is dangerous, or difficult, does not necessarily make it an endeavor not worth taking. The daunting and hopeless are sometimes the most important."
The elder knelt down beside him, and reached for the shovel. "You can choose your own path. You have your own eyes which may see what others do not. Hold on to that."
He finished the last of the digging with a tired practice as Xiao Xingchen watched. "You are partially right. It would be foolish to presume all answers to be found in one place. That is why I walk my own."
He dusted off his hands. Together, they lifted the water deer inside it, and paid their respects.
It was quiet for a time.
The young cultivator in white took a shaky breath. Looking up at his elder through his bangs.
"It...it isn't always like this. There is good to be done. And beauty in this world."
"Yes."
The elder man paused, resting a brief hand on the younger's shoulder. His voice gentling.
"There is no shame in forgoing a path once started. Nor is it shameful to persevere in the face of other's scorn, even if it should prove futile. Nor is it wrong of you to choose an alternative method or path. So long as you do not intend malice, and learn from your mistakes as you recompense them."
He smiled.
"And, should you choose to come home, you will always be welcome. Little star."
The younger looked down at the fresh grave. Then looked away.
"Heise, why…?"
The elder glanced away with a sigh.
"They had their own reasons. Just as every person does. Some cannot leave. Others choose not to."
Heise turned away. "He was one of the latter."
Xiao Xingchen paused. "Perhaps he had something to protect. Perhaps he thought the wards would protect him…"
The elder sighed. Amber eyes betraying his age more than his face ever could, as he looked around the haunted wood.
"...Any wall can fail, given time. A garden wall was never intended to be a fortress. There are many other places I must go. We may not cross paths again for some time."
The younger kneeled quietly for a moment. Before standing. A new determination growing about him.
"I think I will remain on this path, awhile yet. As you said, there are places yet to go."
The black robed elder smirked. His clothes and hair blending with the encroaching shadows and spreading mist. Getting a soft smile in return.
"Then may good fortune be with you always, little star."
Xiao Xingchen nodded.
"Thank you, Bao-qianbei."
A few minutes later, the only thing to show their presence, was the freshly turned earth. The white-robed cultivator's shoe prints. And, curiously, those of a fox.
…
They'd been walking for awhile.
Three of the kids had teamed up to kill a walking corpse. It was the first they'd ever fought, and all in all it had gone well. Gan Huian had given the finishing blow with a flippiy-dippy move that was so Jiang, that he couldn't help but smile.
So many things had been difficult following his ascension to Sect Leader, but one of his biggest worries, that had been largely pushed to the back of his mind until peace-time, though always present; had been: would he be able to ensure that their legacy would pass on?
Not just their ideals (which could be held in the hearts and put into effect in so many ways, the loss of which of so many practitioners could still be felt, that variety and vivacity and abundance, influencing and mingling together) attempt the impossible. But also, just the simple little things. Those little bits of culture and tradition that you always took for granted.
Néng Shàng had always made the best bakkwa. Jiang Cheng knew the basics of the process: take the meat, sugar, salt, soy suace, spices, etc., put it together, dry it out, all that jazz. But he'd never bothered to learn the exact process. Because Neng-Qianbei had always been the one to make it. It was just what was done, as perpetual state of dibs. And his was the best, so why bother and change that tradition?
Any time he bought bakkwa in the market now, it never quite tasted the same. Out of all the survivors, no one knew what exactly had made Neng Shang's taste different.
Or like how, Jiang Cheng had mastered all their sect's sword forms. Obviously. He was the sect heir. He couldn't not know how to perform everything correctly. But that wasn't to say he had excelled the best in all areas. Sure, he and Wuxian were two of their best swordsmen, and no one had even come close to Wuxian in the use of talismans (though that hadn't been one of their main focus' before). But there had been others who'd been better in certain areas.
Xuán Shàn had excelled far greater than either of them when it came to aerial combat. In some respects, Ju Li reminded him of her. And Jiang Cheng knew, every time that he gave a demonstration, that he could teach proficiency. He was confident in that. But he also knew he could never achieve the same grace and fluidity as their shijie.
In every weak-point, he thought of someone now lost, who could have taught it better. Who had known the perfect words, different words, for explaining things. Who could encompass more what he felt he could only parrot in comparison. Doctor Li had told him not to focus too strongly on this. That he was highly competent in his own right. That it was allowed for him to forge his own path in leadership, rather than following the footsteps of others, or solely what he thought they might tread. To not let rose-tinted glasses combine with survivors' guilt or impostor syndrome to make something out of naught.
But it was also equally true, that a network of information had been undeniably lost. It was also equally true that they were forging ahead, and making something good. The pride he took at the sight of his disciples' faces was more than enough proof of that.
Everything was going well.
Which was of course , when the katsura tree in front of them suddenly split down the middle with a monstrous CRACK, dark viscous blood spilling out of the fissure and leaking out across the forest floor. Spilling far too quickly to be natural. A high-pitch human scream echoing through the fog-filled trees a contorted, humanoid-face pushed in and out of the bark. Like a macabre player thrashing against a sheet of silk. Black-veins of resentment running across the exposed inner wood, and spreading.
To the juniors' credit, only one of them screamed.
"What do you always say, Wanyin? 'Fucking yao'?" called Zhu Zian. Grinning as he blocked a wildly flailing branch from slicing at Kang Longwei and Bao Junjie, the rounded leaves having become sharp as knives from the encroaching resentment.
Jiang Wanyin silently cursed him out, ignoring his own heart palpitations, as he started calling order formations to his juniors.
Hai Jiaying, Fu Howin, and Gan Huian had teamed up nicely together. Alternating their strikes to attack and defend, while Fu Howin was calling out the results of different hits to the other pairings across the clearing.
The exterior bark had immediately proven to be too thick to penetrate – a common enough trait amongst resentment infused beings, having increased external durability – so it was as expected. Though still a good thing to test and confirm.
However, the twigs on some of the smaller branches were thin enough to cut off. Which could make shaving the tree a viable option, until they got close enough to give a finishing blow. The actively spreading resentment through the tree was odd though. With verdant leaves darkening to a sickly sludge and ash black. The effected foliage crumbling to dust and further obscuring vision (and breathability) when cut from the main plant. The resultant masks also didn't help, muffling their voices even more than the fog had been doing so.
Ju Li ran up one of the wildly flailing branches. The kid moving with the deft ability of a dancer on a solid wood floor, rather than the pitching deck of the bucking beast the dead tree had become. The kid was a protege in her own right, but damn would she have excelled under Xuan-jie.
Doing a triple flip, the kid brought a pinwheel of momentum down on the already split seam of the tree. Before twisting out of the way of another flailing limb at the last second. Scouring a deep gouge into the tree.
The strike had been clever, hitting a structural weak-point. And with another crazed thrash of limbs, the jostling weight became too much to bear. Another resounding CRACK was heard as half of the tree broke from its base. The severed part falling still at last. With much of it already beginning to crumble to dust. The scent of rot and petrichor filling the air.
Unfortunately, despite the brilliant move (he was gonna have to give the kid something as a prize for pulling off that stunt. And maybe another lecture about self-preservation, were they giving mixed messages? It had been beautiful technique, but that near miss had been close and would have been bad if it had landed. It reminded him of a teenage Wuxian, except instead of the brotherly exasperation and pride mixed with the thrill of being a partner in crime, he felt more a parental-teacher-y pride mixed with blind panic, and, dare he say, a more bemused exasperation? Perhaps he was getting soft with his over exposure with such stunts in his old-age (he wasn't even thirty yet, dammit, yet these kids made him feel old ). But he knew for a fact they hadn't taught a set like that yet, and he wondered where the kid had learned it from.
Unfortunately, yao were fucking yao , and they couldn't be killed that easily. You cut off a monster's head, and the beast is dead. You stab a ghost with a strong enough douse of spiritual energy and it gets exorcised, you cut off enough bits and it can become weak and sealed. A demon can die and become a walking corpse. A walking corpse- chop it to bits and it can't walk any more. Fulfill it or a ghost's last wishes, or again, overload it with spiritual energy, and it stops twitching. But just like with a normal tree, a yao isn't necessarily felled with a mere axe to its side. Plants were fucking resilient. New limbs can sprout from a stump . If you want to make sure you kill the thing, you got to go for the root.
Some people pull and burn a stump to clear a field. With cultivators, it's a bit more violent affair.
He smiled at Chen Meirong sprinting about the edge of the field, placing talismans at specific points, as she dodged seizing limbs whilst her sectmates covered for her.
This was another thing that made yao a pain in the ass to work with. The fucking roots . Different types of plants had different types of roots, that would spread out under the ground differently depending on a variety of factors, including but not limited to the plant's age, size, type, ground level, soil type, region, water tables and other nearby resources that could attract them, or structural things like buildings that might limit them, etc. etc. And being underground it made them a bitch to study. Add to that that yao could fucking move, as the currently shaking ground indicated, and you had yourself a problem. He cut away at the thin feeder root snaking around his boot irritably.
The general rule of thumb was that roots extended about 2-3 times past the tree's dripline, and about 4 cun beneath the ground's surface. Of course that varied, so it was really more of a minimum type measurement. Which was why Chen Meirong was currently scurrying with Wei Wuxian behind her a little past 6bu from the tree itself, flitting in and out of view amongst the surrounding trunks and thickening mist. The talismans lettered with a mix of cinnabar and samples taken from the katsura tree's creepy resentment blood and more natural sap. (It was better to make the talismans more targeted, they didn't want to torch the whole forest, for a variety of obvious reasons. Especially because there were in it).
The mist was fucking creepy though. With the amount of fighting they were doing, they should be hearing swords clanging off the impenetrable bark, metal swishing through the air, the soft hum of spiritual energy. The rustling of leaves and the thwip of the branches as they moved, his sectmates' own heavy rushing footsteps. But all he could hear was his own breaths muffled by the mask, his blood in his ears, the faint call of voices relaying information in what should have been loud shouts, and the soft fall of his own feet, which were more vibration than sound. And his own golden core, thrumming and spinning inside him. An internal light that made him feel safe and loved amongst the surrounding dim and encroaching darkness. Something he'd never noticed before, until after he'd lost it.
Before Baoshan-sanren, his core had felt like lighting in a bottle. Now, it still had that electric tingle, a feeling which grew as his core enlarged under his own ministrations. But it also had this echo, a feeling of warmth, not just of spiritual energy. But of warm hugs and laughter. Like being enveloped in a protective embrace, that sort of sentiment where your tears were soothed and your hair stroked from your face. And despite everything happening, you somehow knew you were going to be okay.
That sensation, faint and echoing and vibrant as it was, was what got him through those early days of the Sunshot Campaign. And many late lonely nights since then, when he felt the pressures of the world bearing down on his back until it might break. When he thought a-jie and Ying-ge were slipping through his fingers and falling out of his reach for reasons he didn't want to fathom and couldn't quite understand. When his fumbling attempts to help and fix and survive didn't seem to be enough. With a-jie far away and with a real son to mother now, with her own happy ending and worries to bear; and Wuxian standing in a room like he wasn't quite there.
What had broke him, when he lost his core, wasn't his lack of cultivation. Wei Wuxian had lived on the streets without cultivation and survived. He'd known many common-people who lacked golden cores, who lived long and happy lives. Who worked hard and were honorable. Who were intelligent and talented and held the respect of their peers and himself. Lotus Pier was intertwined with the people of Yunmeng. He knew it could be done. It would be an adjustment, but he knew he could do it. He'd still be a talented swordsman, even with a mediocre blade. A master of the Six Arts. Heck, he'd be of noble lineage, with wealth and land to his name. He'd be fine , if he survived the war. And it wasn't like there weren't mediocre soldiers part of the Sunshot Campaign, it would have been foolish to think, even then, that the war would be kept solely to the Cultivation World. It wasn't like they were a disparate entity, no matter how much some sect leaders might like to think it. There were "mediocre" lords with power on-par with sect leaders; merchant guilds with money that could rival a sect's; soldiers and mercenaries who could give a disciple a run for their money, even with their advanced healing and flight.
He knew this. He'd be able to help. He could fight Wen soldiers, curry information through back-waters only locals knew to tread, advise in battle tactics, train recruits, organize information and camps and delegate duties and all manner of things it take to organize large bodies of people. He could still be the Jiang Clan head. Yanli's betrothal had been broken at the time, and he had complete faith that she or Wuxian would be able to lead the sect, and lead it well. It wasn't even that he'd been upset to no longer be sect leader, in some ways it had been a relief. (And there was even some historical precedent for sect leaders lacking in cultivation, imparting only theoretical knowledge, or having a damaged core. Even if some of the prejudices in the cultivation world would have made this difficult, perhaps knocking their standing, especially since he hadn't been fully established in his own right at that time. Not yet fully known for his own knowledge or deeds, unlike some venerable elder whose perceived infirmity and new limitations might be more palatable.)
No, the real thing that had shook him. That had knocked his world off kilter even more so that day than all the terrible things that had come before, was that...
He wouldn't be able to protect his siblings the way that he had always thought. It seemed almost, silly, in retrospect. Even though his heart felt that it was not. But he'd always thought, growing up, that one day he'd be this big strong someone . Who could keep all the bad things away, no matter what. And that it would be easy , because he'd be an adult. So of course it would be easy. Because everything was easy for adults, they always knew what to do. They had access to things (before he realized how difficult some of those accessed things could be difficult to grasp). Things like mean-ness or frustration was just a personality trait, not something that could stem from external situations, outside their control. Where things could be even more complex than first seen, beyond some abstract theory.
One day, he'd be the family head, and lead the sect, and he'd have the power to fix the problems. And no one would dare do anything wrong, because no one would want to. A-jie wouldn't have to hide behind a smile and steer him away from doorways and sit quietly through disparaging conversations as she poured tea. Ying-ge wouldn't have to wave him away to go to practice without him, back hurriedly hidden under blankets to keep him from seeing, smiling with ever sharpening teeth, whenever his parents were mentioned, even when his hands stayed gentle on his shoulders, leaping out into whatever impossible fray of justice that they both wanted to join that only Wei Wuxian could ever be allowed to get away with - damned if you do, damned if you don't.
But he could be the distraction now, the figurehead. The one averting attention, drawing the gaze, being a shield. No longer a child, the youngest to be defended. Wei Wuxian hadn't even been that older than him in years, but despite his smaller, malnourished size at his first arrival, he'd had eyes more on par with a-jie's, perhaps even older. He'd seen things, compared to their more sheltered existence. Something that Jiang Cheng had had no comparisons to comprehend, that he only learned of in theory as he grew older, that had given him an added weight to his gaze nonetheless. An underlying, often hidden, seriousness. That had made his sweetness and kindness burn even more true.
Something that Jiang Cheng was beginning to more personally understand, as his own experiences grew.
Jiang Cheng had hated being the baby to be protected. He wanted that burden of responsibility, to take his share of the load. To give them a long deserved rest. To not feel helpless, and be in control. Listened to. Effective, beyond some worried phrases and admonishments. A clan head could still do that, help with internal logistics. But he knew a-Jie had her heart set on Jin Zixuan, and even if they'd never came to be, her options would be severely limited by her being the leader of the sect. And he knew Wei Wuxian had always wanted to wander, the freedom to go on extended nighthunts and have a safe hearth to return to. An impossibility for those who wear a sect leader's guan. And politics could be cruel. People could be cruel. He wanted them to be able to have the option to disengage, to leave the presence of people they wanted nothing to do with. To not have to turn the other cheek for others' sake, to hold their tongue, bite their lip, just to save a little face. They were good at politics. Better than he could ever be. But he didn't want them to have to be.
That was what had hit him the most. That they would never be free. That he'd just be the little brother forever. That they'd never be equals. That they'd never get that choice. That this choice he'd lived for, for so long, had been taken from him.
But then, a miracle had happened.
At the price of his brother's legacy. The one chance he'd ever have to meet his mother's teacher. He could never go back now, they would know he lied. Jiang Cheng had tried to ask questions, answers to hold faithfully till he saw Wei Wuxian again. But he'd been hit with a sleeping agent almost as soon as he'd been greeted, even though he was blind-folded, another security precaution, that Wei Wuxian had warned him about (it was quite possible that Baoshan sect wasn't ever there, that the mountain he'd been sent to had just been a monitored meeting point), so he hadn't had much chance to ask. But he'd remembered.
When did my mother come to meet you?
"She was very young. I suspect she knew nothing else."
What was she like?
"Remarkable. I am sure Wei-gongzi has done her proud."
What was her last name? No one ever says…
"…"
He had fallen asleep after that. And had never heard the answer.
When he'd seen Wei Wuxian again, he'd told him that he had a remarkable mother, that he was an honor to his ancestors. And, as uncertain as he was with the strangeness that had come over him, had given him a hug. Hoping that he'd feel how much he was loved and missed, how much he had been loved and missed. Wei Wuxian had held stiff in his arms, but hadn't pushed him away. Giving a weak laugh that had sounded strange in that desolate old building, standing over Wen Chao and Zhao Zhuliu's corpse. Joking about hidden manuscripts.
It had taken awhile for his laugh to sound right again. But then again, hadn't everyone's?
Sect Leader Jiang dodged another tree limb, pretending he hadn't tripped over a tree root that shot out of the roiling soil like a fanged serpent from a pond.
Shearing limbs away from another branch and chopping another set of overly hands-y feeder roots from his path, he nodded in approval at Bao Junjie's covering the less experienced and smaller Kang Longwei, who was doing himself his own credit by throwing purifying talismans at the steadily spreading pool of cursed blood from the katsura tree. Stopping it from splashing up and burning the exposed skin above their sigil encrusted robes.
Unlike Sandu - Zidian - with its burning element, was able to cut through the thickened bark, cauterizing as it cut, thus stopping the acidic blood-sap from spreading and spewing wildly as it spread. (This yao was so fucking weird, like, not unheard of but why). By this point, most of the tree had been shorn (at this rate, all of his kids were in for prizes when the hunt was done) and he and Zhu Zian had gotten a majority of the branches – the scent of ash, blood, and dust thick in the air.
A shout from his left let him know that the set-up for the array had finally been erected.
"CLEEEEAR OUUUUUT!" he brandished Zidian in a threatening crack to signify the retreat.
Unfortunately for Ju Li, instead of following orders as had been flawlessly practiced during mock nighthunts closer to home, she turned to look at the source of the noise instead of retreating. A large root struck out of the ground behind her, snaring her about the waist and flinging her up through the air over the treetops. A moment later, her sword went hurtling after her. Longlong's sword glare just barely visible through the gloom.
Of course, this sent the other kids to screaming and general panic, breaking their previously carefully structured formation.
"GET BACK! ALL OF YOU!" Jiang Cheng roared, thrashing Zidian again, using its light to call them across the murk and thickening darkness.
Gan Huian seemed to shake himself, before grabbing Fu Howin by the collar, ducking under another swinging branch, before snatching Bao Junjie by the sleeve, who in turn grabbed a confused looking Kang Longwei by the sleeve who was fumbling with half-dropped talismans that were spilling down his front, as Hai Jiaying protected the rear. Jiang Wanyin swung the whip again, this time Zidian streaking across the air above the children's heads, causing them to duck though it was no-where near them, smashing away another branch that had gotten too close.
The kids made it to the outer reaches of the estimated root system, finally vacating the interior of the array, making it safe to use.
Zhu Zian tapped Jiang Cheng on the shoulder, shouting to be heard over his mask and the stifling mists. Gesturing in the direction that Ju Li had involuntarily flown. Saying something that was probably along the lines of 'I'll go after her', the tree had started shireking again, so it was a little hard to tell.
He nodded, and Zhu Zian took off.
Jiang Cheng snatched the activator talisman from Chen Meirong's hand, giving it a quick glance over. He knew Wei Wuxian had been double checking her as she went, but it was always good to make sure with these things before funneling spiritual energy into them, especially your own. Giving her a nod and what passed for a reassuring smile on his face, (forgetting about the mask), he slammed the energy into it, before tossing out towards the center of the talisman marked circle.
The effect was immediate.
Luckily the kids had remember to duck their heads behind their sleeves, as previously instructed.
A beam of blinding light cut through the surrounding mist like a-Jie could through a ham-hock (terrifyingly well). It shot high into the air, and could probably be seen for li, as high as an emergency flare could fly, filling out the entire circumference of the circle. Burning deep into the ground, dissolving all of the targeted tree into ash. Before disappearing. A piece of light that felt as though it should have sound, but was as silent as it was fleeting, here one second and gone the next.
A slight breeze passed through, and the talisman nailed to the tree in front of him dissolved with the wind. Taking the familiar sight of Chen Meirong's (from lessons he'd led) and Wei Wuxian's (from a life-time) hand with it.
Jiang Cheng turned around, the weight of resentment already stepping off his chest as the surrounding air began to clear. Pulling off his mask to take a taste of the sweet air the breeze had brought, cleansing his palate of the hated taste of blood and ash, before turning to the side to spit.
"Well done everyone," he looked at the tired, grinning faces looking up at him. This is why he did it. "I've got a few notes, but that was very well done, especially for what has been a first night hunt for many of you, and against a yao no-less. You've done your sect and families proud."
They beamed at him.
He quickly did a head count. He frowned.
He did the head count again.
He cursed, hiding the panic he felt with anger instead. Ju Li and Zhu Zian were gone, obviously. But were probably fine. Ju Li was skilled enough to catch herself with Longlong as she fell, or use an alternative landing strategy if she did not. And Zhu Zian was a fully trained adult who could take on the best of them. All the other kids were right in front of him, only sporting a few scratches, some of which he could see the beginnings of healing right before his eyes, though he'd make them disinfect them first before they carried on. Safety first and all that. No, the only one who was missing was…
"WEI WUXIAAAAAAAAAN!"
…
Wei Wuxian, was honestly, not quite sure how it happened. One second, he was following along after Chen Meirong, checking her talismans and glaring resentful plant-life into submission. The next, he was surrounded by a seemingly impenetrable mass of silver-white fog. He glared, but only fractured red was reflected back at him.
"Chen Meirong!" Nothing.
"Zhu Zian! Kids! Spooky murder tree!" Not a peep. Not even the rustling roiling dirt of a strangle-root trying to cop a feel with its murder tendrils.
He sighed, feeling like he was never gonna live this down for at least a week. "JIANG CHEEEEEENG!"
Nothing.
No angry-fond brother-noises.
He sighed, resting a hand on the not-yet noticeable bump. Feeling xiao-Wei kicking as if they were trying to add onto their mother's noises, the better to be heard.
"Aiyah! It's alright. They're in here somewhere." Wei Wuxian swallowed. "I've been in worse forests."
He walked along, carefully feeling forward through the thick gloom, lest he trip on a root or walk face-first into a tree. Holding his bow half-knocked off to the side by his hip, ready to be drawn at a moment's notice. He'd rather keep any fighting long-range if he could help it.
He frowned, getting an uncanny feeling that he didn't like. If he didn't know better, he'd think…
But he was distracted as a chatter of voices ahead of him brought him further alert, drawing the bow a little harder, though not quite leaving at-rest (ready to fire at a moment's notice), as he stepped out of the opaque patch of mist (that had seemingly gone on forever and for no time at all) into a slightly more transparent patch that had appeared in front of him. And into the midst of the noise.
"I'm TELLING YOU we're NOT LOST!"
"Oh yeah? Then tell me, where are we?"
"I dunno! I was just hunting with my group, and yall walked out right in front of us! We could have KILLED YOU!"
"Nuh uh, yall were the ones who appeared out of nowhere. It wasn't OUR fault!"
Wei Wuxian sighed, loosening his hold on the bow, though not un-knocking the arrow.
A mixed motley of disciples stood before him, all juniors from a variety of sects. He could see a couple YunleiYao in the far corner, yelling about others' incompetence. There were a few YunpingShuang, some of whom he remembered from yesterday, and a few of whom he thought he recognized from back when they were wee bitty things – gosh he's old now. He saw a few WuBai in white (he may have done a double take when he saw them, but there were no other white there). Also a CaoxiangQuan and two kids who looked like they were from the FuYang sect, with their glaringly yellow robes, along with a few in colors he didn't know. There were even a few TingzheShu, including that one girl from yesterday.
Yep, he was right about something being off. The TingzheShu were suppose to be covering the forest some six li away, and that was just the part of the speech he'd been paying attention to. Something smelled fishy. He'd bet a plate of Granny Luo's best spicy meat buns (a priceless commodity) that there was some sort of maze array in effect.
He took a deep breath, using an impressive amount of self control. This was not his problem to be dealing with. He could leave it to others, it didn't have to be his sole responsibility to deal with. Obviously, other people would know what's up, what with all these kids disappearing. He could let someone else get on with it, or bring it up with Jiang Cheng later, if he really felt it necessary.
Such arrays didn't just appear on their own. A niggling voice reminded him.
And who knows? Maybe it was a result of all this fog? (Resentful fog? Doubtful, but still possible). He shook himself, get back on topic Wei Wuxian.
All in all, it looked like they had a few from each of the cardinal directions. It was like someone had taken a sample pool of cultivation sects. Junior only edition. And mixed them together, stolen from where they were supposed to be.
Though come think of it, some of those older kids maaaaaaay be baby seniors. But if they didn't pass through the war with that rank, than they still felt like babies to him (not that he'd hold it against them, he'd recognize any rank that was deserved). But he was an honorary elder after all, and this group made him feel it. Old.
He watched as two kids' devolved into some approximation of fighting, with them wildly slapping at each other, their faces turned away. Two of their compatriots quietly chanting 'fight! Fight! Fight!' in the background.
So much bickering. It was kind of cute, in an exasperating way. He couldn't wait until the Cloud Recesses lectures started again. They needed that type of unity that those fostered friendships and exchanges had prompted. It was a cold absence felt in the lingering wake of Wen Ruohan. Also, super cute. The babies. Ahem, young adults. Respected kiddos.
He sent out a cheery grin, leaning up against a tree in an attempt to look non-threatening. Bow pointed firmly at the ground, arrow twirling lazily in his draw hand. And cleared his throat.
The effect was instantaneous.
Half the group froze, the ones facing him staring with wide eyes. A few slower in the uptake, seeing the Jiang colors instead of his usual black and red Wei robes. Only stiffening when their gaze rose, faces paling at the sight of his face, where previously they'd looked warily hopeful. Damn. He blinked, and the barely perceptible red that had been glinting at the edges of his vision and the surrounding mist was gone. He hadn't realized he'd still been doing that.
Probably hadn't helped with the first impression. Coming out of the mist like a red-eyed demon and all. Even if demons and living corpses usually had white-milky eyes (not to mention the glowing-red-cracked skin) the children wouldn't necessarily know that. White eyes didn't make for as spooky a story. Especially with the rumours and all.
The other half of the group, who had been facing with their backs to him, had perked up at the sound of an adult. Only to come to a faltering stop after they met his gaze. (Though he was hoping some may have missed the red part).
Case in point: "We were….!" the boy gulped.
"Hmmmm?"
The boy gave a desperate glance around, shifting on his feet. But no one else seemed to wish garnering attention from their way-ward would-be speaker.
The boy gulped again, fiddling with the belt of his Shuang robes.
Wei Wuxian sighed. He remembered this kid. They'd been friends with his mother, a woman a couple years their senior who would sneak them sweet treats whenever they'd had to tag along to Jiang shushu's business meetings. Wei Wuxian had once held the crying toddler in his arms for hours, rocking him after he'd fallen from a tree and hurt his arm, trying to appease the boy whilst his mother was in a meeting (his father had been on a nighthunt, and they'd known no one else at the time, too young to meet anyone outside of formal settings except for a host appointed minder. At the time the ties between their sects so close they hadn't need to bring their own bodyguard). Desperate to protect him from the error and soothe the hurt. Only later realizing that she would not react as they were used to, and would have rather been told. The boy had been fine, and Li-jie, Cheng-ge, and Ying-gege had sent him lucky new year money the next four years after. Stopping only when he was seven, at the start of the Sunshot Campaign.
The boy from Yunping flinched.
That was okay. This was the Yiling Patriarch after all. It wasn't his fault. Who would connect THAT, with a big-brother figure from bygone summer-days?
He gave another smile, trying to soften it further.
"Where are your Seniors?"
That was apparently the wrong thing to say. The children (at least the ones who'd been paying attention) paled further.
"Did you get lost in the fog?"
Wei Wuxian laughed awkwardly. "It's been a mite troubling, hasn't it? Bit eerie."
The kids stared at him. (He saw one in the back roll his eyes).
"Look, if we all got lost then its fair to say the others did too. Seems to be a deteriorating maze array abouts, may-hap a byproduct from the war, a forest like this would have been a great place to hole-up for awhile…" he paused, giving them a reassuring smile.
"It's not anyone's fault, just something that happened. But it's prob be best that you stick together."
He breathed in, feeling the shifting airwaves. The subtle resonances of resentful energy that made up the tapestry of a land. The cool supple silk. Moonlight on water. Searching for the deeper pockets where it became problematic. The warm sun-kissed chords that was strung in-between. Fragrant – but not heady—like fresh cut grass, warm stone under your hands, and good wine. The places where it welled and swirled in the nearby cultivators. Threading through their meridians.
Closing his eyes he could picture it, the paths it wove. Beyond the sensing and thought exercise. When his eyes flicked open, for a moment, it was almost like he could see it.
He blinked again, and the red at the corner of his eye was gone. Oops.
He needed to pay better attention to that.
He sent another, hopefully, reassuring smile. "I myself took two steps to the right, and suddenly all my juniors were gone!" he grinned at them again.
It was still a mixed bag of wary. A few had stepped back at the reappearance of his eyes. Another had snorted.
"Well, I'm going to be going after them now…" Wei Wuxian gestured behind him, bringing the bow back up into a more ready position (though still careful not to point it at any of the children).
"...anyone who wants to come with is welcome. Once you know these things are there, they're generally not too problematic, just tricky." A bit of an understatement, but he had always been good with talismans and arrays. And he suspected it would only be easier with his new feel and control of resentful energy. Especially with his uncommon experience with corrupted environments. Dark forests. He cleared his throat.
"However, I don't think any signal flares would be very effective here, though you're welcome to try. Though they will pierce the mists, they likely won't work as a reference point in this case. Though they may be a reassurance to your sect mates, especially if you use one signalling a status that might indicate your current well being," there were plenty of derivations of the signal flare, beyond the standard 'anyone, please help! I'm with x-sect', and the darker more rarely used 'do not approach at any cost'.
"What with the array shifting fields, they wouldn't be able to follow it, and you would no longer be underneath it even if they did."
He started walking back towards the edge of the unnatural clearing that had been formed by the fog at a leisurely pace. If that pace was a little slower than normal, it wasn't as if the kids needed to know. He was just giving them a chance to make up their mind, before he could be separated by them once they lost sight of each other in the fog, which seemed how the maze was set to be working. (The real question was whether the maze was set to lead you away, or trap you permanently).
The kids stood blinking at each other, and then at his retreating back. A few looked relieved, while others scoffed in a mixes of derision and false bravado amongst the hastily whispering voices. But no one moved, at least for a few heartbeats.
"Who was that?!"
"Who do you think?! The Yiling Laozu! Didn't you see his eyes?!"
"What, no, the Yiling Laozu doesn't look like that."
"Oh, and what does the Yiling Laozu look like then?"
"I dunno, a creepy old guy with a bad nose-break and ratty hair?"
"A skeleton man with face scars from veneral diseases, you know, from all those kidnap-y human sacrifice orgies?"
"..."
"What the fuck, Fu Xi".
"Way to be dark, dude".
"Where did you even hear something like that?"
"I think the word you're searching for is...Anyway. I thought he was a fierce corpse? You know, the 'ghost general'?"
"What the fuck is a 'ghost general'? What books have you been reading. There's no ghost general. He's a demon, stupid."
"He didn't look like a demon to me."
"I didn't see any face scars. And he wasn't drooling or snacking on bones either."
"Wait, I zoned out. What are yall talking about?!"
"Really a-Mei? That guy! Over there!"
"Oh, that nice looking Jiang senior?"
"Wait, that's what the Jiang sect colors looks like?! I thought they were green and pink?"
"No dipshit, that's the Nie."
"The Nie aren't pink!"
"But I thought, pink and green, you know, the whole Lotus thing...? Oh wow, I talked to a guy for like, an hour yesterday..."
"Wait, wait, wait, that's Wei Wuxian? I thought he was older?"
"Who's Wei Wuxian?"
"Who's Wei Wuxian?! You know, Mo Dao, Mo Dao Zu Shi."
"That's a demonic cultivator?!"
There was more scuffling after that pronunciation.
Then a kid from a smaller clan that sometimes traded with Lotus Pier started edging after him. Followed by a partnered duo from two other sects with their own serious expression. Though one of them looked rather self-assured and was laughing quietly to himself. The remaining kids staring at them. But it was Zhao Shunhuo who broke the tide.
"Where are you going?!" hissed Fang Genpei, snatching at her wrist.
Zhao Shunhuo gave a long look after Wei Wuxian's repeating back, where he'd paused to let the following kids catch up with him. Then she looked back at her shimei. (Well, shimei in age, but shijie in sect seniority. At least in terms of the sect tests already passed and time spent in the martial family. Whether that would ever change, only time would tell. Which made peer dynamics more, interesting, for people new to a sect after the war).
"I doubt he's going to murder us after chitchatting with us, when he could of just as easily took us by surprise." Though she did tip her head thoughtfully in a manner that was not at all reassuring to those nearest her.
"Besides. If he really is dangerous, wouldn't you rather see where he is, rather than risk him coming at you suddenly from the fog?"
Those who'd been dithering suddenly made up their minds at her words. There wasn't much argument after that.
Zhao Shunhuo muttered under her breath, "it'd also be dumb to jilt a sect heir, especially one as powerful as that." Though it didn't seem like many had heard her. As the group scrambled with varying degrees of reluctance after the only spot of Jiang blue in their midst.
None of them noticed when Wei Wuxian surreptitiously glanced over his shoulder, and saw the entire tossed salad of baby-green cultivators following. Nor that he had quickened his pace after a smile.
No one was left as the clearing was swallowed by mist once more.
...
A/N:
Some new names!
Shu XunZhe: xún zhé (循喆) to follow, to adhere, to abide; sage, wise man.
Zhao Shanhuo: Shàn hòu (善厚) kind hearted, good hearted, able; deep, kind, generous, profound. With the Zhao being the same as Zhao Zhuliu ;)
Peng Rui: a female name. ([朋锐) péng ruì. friends; sharp, keen, vigour, spirit.
Ai Gu: a female name. (蔼姑) ǎi gū. friendly, nice, amiable; lady, young woman, aunt, husband's sister, husband's mother.
Shan Zuo: a male name. (善佐). Shàn zuǒ. kind hearted, good hearted, able; to assist, to accompany.
Fang ChunBao: a female name. (淳宝 chún). bǎo agreeable, genuine, honest; treaure, jewel, gem, precious. Fang GenPei's older sister/jiejie.
Shu ShangHu: I appear to not have written anything down for this. :/ oops
Jia Shui: (家水) jiā shuǐ home, family, household ; water, liquid, signify clarity, purity, tranquillity.
Néng Shàng: (能上) , ability, capable, competent ; above, on top, to climb, to go up.
Xuán Shàn: (玄善) , abstruse, profound, mysterious ; kind heart-ed, good heart-ed, able.
Fu Xi: fú xī (孚翕) trustworthy, trusting, dependable; agree, friendly, compliant, open and close. (ie, a very trusting friendly compliant guy, or, the closest I could find to gullible, lol).
Xiao Xingchen: Xiao meaning Dawn, Xing meaning Star, and Chen meaning Dust. According to FandomWiki (where I get a lot of extra details/refresh my memory when I don't want to find it in the book/show) Xiao Xingchen's name comes from "the Tang Dynasty poetry 嫦娥 cháng é (lit. To the Moon Goddess). The poem has a line which goes 长河渐落晓星沉 cháng hé jiàn luò xiǎo xīng chén. This translates roughly as "The Milky Way slides low and stars dim as approaches daylight."" (Yall, SO MANY names in canon are SO PRETTY).
(Lemme know if I missed any new names, I had them all up here but then accidentally lost half the work in my note, so I may have missed something :/). As always I get the names from the internets, so if they're weird...that's why.
I may have spent a few hours looking up academic articles that would describe how plant root systems work...
bu was another measure of distance. According to wikipedia "1 bu has consisted of either 5 or 6 chi, while 1 li has consisted of 300 or 360 bu." With '1 chi being 231 milimeters'. With 1000mm in 1meter, or 914.4mm in 1 yard.
yáng fù , 阳阜 , sun, symbolizes brightness and brilliance ; abundant, abundance. (With the words before the semicolon referring to meanings of the first character, and words after the semicolon referring to meanings of the second character). Another minor sect! Geddit? The name? Cause of the sun-yellow?
According to google, bakkwa is a type of Chinese sweetmeat/jerky? (I'd just looked up random food, idk this may be wrong).
Did anyone see the RWBY reference? How about the Miranda Lambert song reference? What about the Friends' one? I suppose the yao-demon-tree could be a slight reference to the Whomping Willow from Harry Potter in some respects as well, though it wasn't intentional.
As a reminder, Mo Dao Zu Shi "魔道祖师; pinyin: Módào Zǔshī; lit. 'Demonic Path Ancestral Master'" (according to Wikipedia). I often see it translated as meaning Master and/or founder of the Demonic Path, ie, Demonic Cultivation. With "Mo" meaning "Demon" and "Dao" meaning "path". With Mo Dao meaning Demonic Cultivation. So like, a person who uses Resentful Energy, primarily in the creation and control of demons, etc.
I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks for reading! I'd love to hear what you think! (Omg so much stuff is happening in this arc...)
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