A/N: What's this? A second chapter in the same day? Did I, perchance, write more than one chapter at once? Whaaaaa?! Lol. I hope you all enjoyed the last chapter, and now here is, chapter 2!
Chapter 2: Bù sāhuǎng de rén
Lan Xichen looked around him and thought that he was going to be sick.
Battle had always made him feel that way. It was different from a nighthunt. The pointless loss of life. Of loved ones. So much violence and destruction. Why couldn't everyone sit down and talk things out, logically. Peaceably find an equitable solution for everyone. Why did people have to fall to such greed and lies?
It was even more tragic when it stemmed from betrayal. A murder in trust. When such promising individuals fell to corruption. Why did people have to be so unreasonable? Why couldn't people just be happy with what they had? To trust one another, and be kind?
He knew Wangji still held out hope. Wangji was such a good boy, always had been. So, kind. So intelligent and talented. He knew that his little brother had considered Wei Wuxian his friend once, that he'd maybe even hoped for something more. But the person Wangji knew, if they'd ever even known him, simply didn't exist anymore. Even Wei Wuxian's own brother, Jiang Wanyin, had agreed to this. Surely if anyone were to judge, the best would be him? Who could know a person best than their own brother?
No, sometimes war was inevitable. Sometimes you couldn't save everyone, no matter how much you'd want to. Sometimes a person had to be stopped. Lan Xichen just wished it wasn't necessary. It was such a waste. And Wangji…poor, sweet a-Zhan. Had been so terribly hurt by all this. Wei Wuxian was clearly out of his mind, incapable of reason or mercy. Going so far as to kill his own sister, another gentle, merciful soul that had tried to save him, just as Wangji had done.
And like her, Wangji was now paying a terrible price. Bile rose in the Sect Leader's throat. 33 whip lashes…
The Yiling Patriarch had become so abhorrent, that no sympathetic tendencies could be allowed to fester. They couldn't allow the taint, Wei Wuxian's dangerous influence to spread. Any lenience could allow another bright pupil to misstep, to fall onto the crooked path and be lost to them. Wangji was such a star pupil, people would go where he followed. Demonic Cultivation was too dangerous. It destroyed the mind and heart, wasted away the body. So slowly, you didn't realize it was happening, until it was too late. Any observation of the wayward former Jiang from the past few years supported this. Always so ill, so quick to temper.
He was angry at Wei Wuxian. But he also felt pity. Lan Xichen didn't think the man, the boy they'd once knew, had chosen the path out of cruelty. He'd been inquisitive and kind, shamelessly fearless. He'd probably wanted to help. He had helped, at first. The stories of his cruelty had come later, after his corruption.
This wasn't the same man.
Wangji would never be the same again.
He gritted his teeth. Even as his face remained placid and kind. Devoid of its usual smile, which was inappropriate for what they were here to do. Lan Xichen had tried to get leniency, begged the elders. And they had mitigated the sentence. The wounds were not nearly as deep as they could have been, as they would have been if he'd only been sentenced to a single strike. Instead of being publicly shamed, Wangji's sentence had been carried out in secret, and he'd been ordered into three years of seclusion after this. Doctors and elders sworn to secrecy. Solitary confinement, with no visitation beyond immediate family.
But they wouldn't back down on the use of discipline whips. One strike for every elder he had fought. Wangji's actions had been too shocking. Too out of character. Hanguang-jun did not defend murderers, did not quarrel and speak out. Did not disobey and refuse to show remorse. He hadn't even tried to explain himself, just turned toward uncle with disbelieving eyes. Fierce, without regret.
"Shifu, tell me, what is wrong and what is right? What is black and what is white?"
Everyone else thought Wangji had been injured in Nightless City. Everyone else thought Wangji had entered secluded cultivation. Wangji wasn't here.
The elders thought Wangji had gone blind. That he'd been pulled astray from his morals and the sect's ideals. A disappointment. Like their father. The curse of the Lans.
He wished Wangji were here. He wished his brother had never been hurt. Wished he could have protected him. That life had been kinder to everyone, than becoming so horrible.
But Wangji didn't know they were here.
He would have tried to stop them.
He did try to stop them.
"Wangji, what do you think about what they're saying about Young Master Wei?"
"Wei Ying is Wei Ying."
But sometimes a person goes blind. Sometimes they forget what ought be remembered. And sometimes they remember what should be forgot.
"Jin Zixun! We must speak."
"Who are you to come in here? Barging in unannounced?! You weren't even invited! Wait a few hours, perhaps I'll see you then."
"It is important! We must speak now!"
"Young Master Wei, perhaps you could sit down? Why don't you join us? I can bring you a chair…"
"Where is Wen Ning, Wen Qionglin?! Young man, timid, speaks with a stammer. He was taken from a group of free Wens by Dafan Mountain during a nighthunt. A member of the branch family, part of a healer's sect-"
"Who?! Why do you care about some Wen-dog?"
"I owe him a debt."
"pfft, you? What debt could you possibly owe?"
"TELL ME‼"
"Fine, fine, what's wrong with you?! He's at Qiongqi Pass. You can do whatever you want with those Wen-dogs, for all I care!"
But no one would listen, or perhaps they could not hear. If only he'd succeeded.
The Lan contingent of the siege for Burial Mound had been the smallest grouping, the last to arrive. There'd been so many sects, so many minor colors with which he'd been less than familiar. Roaring for blood. There was anger, fear, people felt betrayed, unsafe. So many had died at the hands of the Wens, from Wei Wuxian's descent to madness. Casualties had been high at Nightless City, the dizi echoing and haunting. The assassination of Jin Zixuan at Qiongqi Pass had rocked their entire world. Not even the Wens had killed when invited in peace to the hearth of another, betrayed their own hosts or guests. They would always leave first, and then come back. The heretical outcast had become a threat, not just displeasing and unsettling, a strange annoyance. But a demon. One with an army at his back.
Jin Guangshan had called for blood. The Wen army could not survive. The demonic Yiling Patriarch had to be shot down.
A mad dog put out of his misery.
A-Yao said a quick death would be kind.
People wanted vengeance. Wanted justice. And there was glory to be had in taking a demon down. Only a fool would have thought all the motivations had been honorable. But allies would be useful.
For many, it was just another nighthunt.
The corpse army had been like a sea. Of course, it was, for this was the Burial Mounds. This was what the land was made of. The site of terrible wars. A dumping ground. Where the dead were abandoned; a place beyond the sects. A place for the cursed and forgotten. The Jins had broken through first, followed by the Jiangs. By the time Lan Xichen had crested the rise, it was already over.
The Stygian Tiger Amulet had been destroyed. Some said that it had to have been an accident, that no sane man would ever give up such power. Others swore that his actions could have been nothing but deliberate, methodical even. A sacrifice, a recompense, a final 'fuck you'. But Wei Wuxian was dead. The final Wens had been destroyed.
They'd finally shot down the sun, at long last.
From a young age, Lan Xichen had known that a title held only so much power as those who followed it deigned to give it. He also knew that robes of office could make you trip and fall if you weren't careful. Tears could be difficult to mend, and any misstep could have lasting consequences.
Lan Xichen had been a sect leader for barely three years. But he already knew in a personal way that titles were confining. You had to learn to walk in them, and people would always want you to walk in a certain way. By their very nature, they were defining.
Hanguang-jun: the good light-bearing lord. Yiling Patriarch: evil master of the dead.
It was easy, to swallow a definition and move on.
The difference between an adequate and good student, is that an adequate student memorizes the material. They know what to look for, what to say, when to do it, when to say it. They repeat everything back in perfect time to their teacher and perform their tasks without complaint. But a good student learns. They question. They don't just remember the definition but ask why it was defined. How it was defined. Why the answer was so. What makes it better or worse. They build on the lessons of their teacher. They don't just parrot it but internalize it. Make it a part of themselves as they make their way in the world. A good teacher cautions but encourages their student to try. A good teacher lays the foundation, so that their student might be better than themselves in the next generation.
Lan Wangji had always been a good student. They'd always said he was the best of them all.
"Wangji, you look happy today. It must have been a nice outing?"
"Mn. Nighthunt. Pleasant people."
"Oh? Where did you go?"
"…outskirts Yiling."
"…ah…"
Everyone feared the second coming of the Wen. The very idea had Nie Mingjue's saber drawn. Jin Guangshan said there was an army.
He supposed to a demonic cultivator, the Burial Mounds could count as a corpse army. But the corpses had only attacked after the cultivators had crossed into the mounds. He later found out that the living who fled their borders hadn't been followed out, that no fleeing person was pursued. Nor had any souls become trapped or stolen. No one had died, not on their side, anyway. It should have been a great victory.
Xichen would never take satisfaction in another's death. But he had expected some feeling of relief. Finally, it was all over. Crisis averted, the threat dealt with, and laid to rest. That was what he thought to expect.
At the top of the hill was a ruined settlement. He'd barely arrived, and it was already destroyed. As if someone didn't want anyone to see it. It was…small. So small. The work was quick, destructively efficient. He'd just seen that building, hovel, and already he couldn't tell where it had been. Just nondescript debris. Everywhere. Something was burning. The last of the walking corpses had been cleared, bloody remnants all that remained. People were laughing, excitedly calling out for trophies, souvenirs.
A few were tending the wounded. Everyone was filthy, their hands dyed red. People were looting a cave. He didn't see any of the Wens. Not till he saw someone dragging a body. He followed it with his eyes, as they dumped it in a shallow pool. The waters dyed red…and getting darker. It was an old woman. A child's toy had fallen out of her pocket as they had dragged her. He didn't think anyone had noticed.
He didn't see any weapons, just some broken farm tools. What looked like a trampled field?
He didn't see any prisoners. There weren't any prisoners. No one had surrendered, or no surrenders had been taken.
He needed to sit down. There was a still under a tree, somehow undamaged. It smelt of fruit wine. Someone had made this. That person was dead.
His hands shook in his lap, against his greying robes. This settlement was too small. There wasn't an army. The evidence of an army could not have been disposed of so quickly. A tattered red lantern swayed in the breeze. This looked more like a farming village. Even dismantled as it was. A poor farming village. An army had barracks, storerooms, campfires. There wasn't enough here to make any of that.
He felt like he was going to be sick.
Xichen watched from the sidelines as they did their work. So filthy he blended in with the rest of the landscape. Waited as the majority grew bored and left. Then he gathered his men and silently departed. But instead of returning to Gusu, he ordered the disciples to linger. They watched, not quite hidden but neither were they seen, as everyone else finally left. The Jins the last to go. Then he brought them back to the mounds.
He approached the pool where he'd seen the woman's body go. His heart filling with dread with each step he took.
The elders had been upset with Wangji. Concerned. Affronted. Because the Lan sect was honorable. They did not consort with villains. Did not stand to the side in the face of tyrants. Because Hanguang-jun was good. Because Hanguang-jun didn't lie.
Hanguang-jun hadn't lied.
There were forty-seven bodies.
Thirty were over fifty years. Seven were in their late teens and early twenties. The rest fell somewhere in-between. The majority were too old to fight. Some were obviously crippled, even in death. None of the young men had the build or callouses of a seasoned fighter. Neither did most of the elders. Their clothes were rough and homespun, worn and too thin for the weather, despite their layers. They had the wiry muscle and thin cheeks of a people who worked hard and yet rarely had enough to eat.
One woman had the shape of a peony, branded into the side of her face.
He could hear one of the disciples retching behind him.
He didn't see a child's body.
Wei Wuxian was not among them. Perhaps Sect Leader Jiang had taken the body, though he hadn't seen. But he had also heard…maybe there had been nothing left.
But whatever Wei Wuxian had been in life, these people were clearly innocent.
"Sect Leader…who are these people?" The voice sounded horrified, and right they should be.
Who else could they be, but the 'horrible Wen Remnants'? But that begged the question what civilians had been doing in a Jin prison camp. Perhaps they'd been some sort of administrator, or a healer who had broken their oath? But no, Wei Wuxian had already answered that question, hadn't he?
A group of civilian Wens who'd been captured on a nighthunt. Kidnapped. Falsely imprisoned. Persecuted.
People who had already been cleared. Non-combatants, who hadn't been part of the war. Who were guilty of no war crimes. People, who should have been left to live in peace.
The sects had agreed, had signed a treaty.
This could not stand. An investigation had to be done. Lies had been told, crimes had been committed. The guilty had to be found. This was wrong.
"These…are…the Wen remnants." He ignored how his disciples blanched at the statement, the unsettling truth that smacked them in the face. The horror and confusion in their eyes. They did not question him; they could not combat what lay before them.
He ordered the bodies cleaned as best they could, and preservation talismans placed upon them. They were evidence and needed to be transported back to Cloud Recesses to show to the clan elders, to force an inquiry. Then they would be laid properly to rest, not even an enemy should be treated as thus. And these people had never been their enemy. Lies had been. And the people who told them.
They would be free from this cursed place at last. Too little, too late.
He picked his way through what remained of the settlement, looking for what evidence he could find. A step in the cave revealed a crude living space, including scraps of paper in Wei Wuxian's hand (whatever that had been of value long since pilfered or destroyed) along with a small wooden sword and a crumpled grass butterfly. Children's toys. Which only deepened his suspicions. Perhaps none of the other sects had noticed this, too excited in their victory to contemplate what this means. To see what was right in front of them, just beyond the surface.
One toy may have been a dear memento, but the rest of them could not be explained away in such a manner.
Lan Xichen ordered a search to be held. He just hoped he could live with whatever they discovered.
Two shichen sticks later, the child was found. Alive.
He was small, barely three years old. Most likely born after the Sunshot Campaign had already ended. Much better fed than the other Wen. And absolutely terrified. The…the baby had been hidden in the base of a hollow tree, too deep for them to reach him. An attempt to remove the dead tree from above was too dangerous, pieces of wood would probably fall and harm him. The little boy cowered behind a faded silk overrobe, old and worn, that looked far warmer than anything else that they'd found in the settlement. And refused to come out. Crying and shaking behind the sea of Jiang sect blue, as if it could protect him, a red ribbon clutched tight in his hand.
Strangely, the child calmed at Lan Xichen's approach. Though he backed away from all others. Taking his hand as Xichen reached for him, finally leaving the tree. Calling Xichen, "Rich-gege" of all things. It was only when they were back out in the light that the child began crying again, cowering and screaming, trying to escape his grasp.
It was at that moment the young sect leader came to a horrible realization.
"Pleasant people". Wangji had said.
Xichen had thought Wangji had meant some nice farmers in Yiling. He supposed he hadn't been wrong on that account. He swallowed hard.
"Little one, by any chance, is your 'Rich-gege' called Lan Zhan?"
He'd nearly said Wangji. But Xichen had never once heard that name fall past Wei Wuxian's lips. It was unlikely that the little one would know it.
The child scrunched up his face at the familiar name. Quieting in surprise.
"Would you like to go to him?"
Hesitantly, the child nodded, hiccuping. "Bu' Xian-gege say a-Yuan not t' come out till Xian-gege or Granny come."
Xichen fought back tears. Behind him, he could hear a disciple sob quietly.
"Well, I'm sure Xian-gege would say it's okay. I'm Rich-gege's brother, so I can take you to him."
The child's face brightened. "You Rich-gege bruther?"
The little boy, a-Yuan, clapped his hands delighted. "Xian-gege say Rich-gege bruther very nice!"
Lan Xichen chocked. "Wei-, Xian-gege mentioned me?"
"Mn! Xian-gege say that Rich-gege from Gooosooo, and all the people there really pretty and nice and eat rabbit food awwwwwwwwwwwll the time! And that you shouldn't go near the people wit swords, but can twust the people in white wit ribbon on their head cause they really nice and good!"
There was more than one person crying now.
Lan Xichen left carrying the blue wrapped child, using a different path that avoided the settlement. Though the child had definitely heard things from the siege, he'd been too close not to, he hadn't seen anything yet. The little boy didn't need to see his family lying out, dead on the ground before him. Since their Lan contingent had been towards the back, one of the last to arrive, they had only fought corpses, and hadn't killed any of the Wens themselves. A small relief. But through their actions, they might as well have done.
He left most of his people behind to deal with the dead as he flew ahead to Gusu with the small child. It was amazing the amount of trust the child, a-Yuan, had afforded him. Just by being Rich-gege's brother. A trust he didn't deserve.
He had to go home. Had to tell Wangji that Wei Wuxian had died. That Wei Wuxian was dead. That a-Yuan had survived. Tell the elders that they'd been wrong. That they'd all been wrong about the Wen Remnants. That something about this situation just wasn't right.
He had to tell Wangji…
It was halfway home that their party crossed paths with healer Lan ShiRu, as he returned from Koi Tower, free of his charge. It was then, high in the air, balanced on their cold unfeeling swords, that Lan Xichen learned that Jin Zixuan and Jiang Yanli were alive.
Someone had lied.
33 lashes…
Wei Wuxian was dead…
Lan Wangji had told the truth.
...
A/N:
I hope you enjoyed this chapter! :)
The name "Shi" (according to the internets) means "real, honest", and "Ru" (depending on the character) means "scholar". So, like how Wei WuXian's courtesy name means "without envy", I tried to make Lan ShiRu's courtesy name mean "honest scholar".
Since the timelines in The Untamed and Mo Dao Zu Shi are a little different, to clarify: in this story Jin Zixuan 'died' at the Qiongqi Pass ambush. Wei Wuxian woke up in Burial Mound, whereupon Wen Qing and Wen Ning both turned themselves in to Jin Guangshan for the 'death' of Jin Zixuan. Once free from Wen Qing's needles, Wei Wuxian raced after them but was too late and couldn't find them. He overheard about the 'pledge conference' at Nightless City and went to confront the people there, whereupon the archer shot first and chaos ensued. Jiang Yanli raced to Nightless City, was struck down and 'died'. Lan Wangji helped Wei Wuxian escape Nightless City and was punished for it via the 33 lashes. Jin Guangshan then called for the first siege of the Burial Mounds.
Bù sāhuǎng de rén, meaning "People who don't lie".
Thank you for reading, and I'll see you next chapter.