To Live a Thousand Deaths

by CrystalHeartZyx

A Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation fic, huzzah! Fu Xuanming is a walking corpse. After the destruction of her home, she has focused her efforts on protecting her younger sister from the Wen Clan. A chance encounter with Wei Wuxian brings her to the Jiang Clan, and her fate becomes linked with the demonic grandmaster - all the way into his second life.

9. The Scars that Never Fade

"You know there's a war going on right? Really dramatic, scary, people are dying, it's like a whole thing."

"Yeah but...personal drama. Trauma. Getting-drunk hijinks!"

"I see your point, carry on."

So yeah, these next two chapters are speeding through the war, because let's be honest, it's not too complicated even in the original. I just thought to myself "What if I just...do this?" and then wrote it down. Yay!

---

Lan Xichen was in distress. He tried not to let it show on his face. He was distressed about many things. He was distressed about Wangji's distress. He was distressed about the things causing Wangji distress, which were also causing him distress.

He was working himself to exhaustion, organizing both the Lan Clan's disciples as well as working with the other clans. All of his training as a youth had prepared him for light diplomatic relations, to be eased into the organization of their sect and occasionally interacting with representatives from the others during very specific gatherings.

Now, he had been thrust into the wild and chaotic position of being a war general.

"This area here has poor terrain for mounted forces and foot soldiers alike. The Wen forces can easily lay a trap from the north and west."

"It'd be a massive loss of life, even if we won," Lan Xichen concluded.

Meng Yao spoke up, "There may be a way. However, there is great risk, as you say."

"There is great risk in war whether we advance or retreat," Nie Mingjue reminded them. "Explain your plan."

"We will need to split our forces into two. The first team will have to be the bait and fall for the trap. They'll be, quite literally, walking into an uphill battle. The goal is to draw out the forces in ambush back down the mountain. Then, a second auxiliary force can make their way all the way around here…" Meng Yao ran his finger along the war map in a wide arc, "and cut off the enemy forces. Then, they will have the high ground, and cut off any potential retreat. In order to move the troops into position, they'll have to set out earlier, be on the move longer, and we may want to only send out smaller groups at once to minimize the attention on them. Better yet, we need a distraction to make it seem like we still have our full forces fighting away from the path the auxiliary force needs to take."

"Do we have the numbers for it?" Fu Xuanming asked.

"We'll always have the numbers for it," Wei Wuxian insisted, twirling his flute. "I volunteer to be part of the auxiliary force. The more dead that have piled up by the time we arrive, the better."

He nodded. "Then I am on the attack force. The more danger, the better."

Each of the cultivators heard the commotion before it reached them. A woman was pushing past the guards outside the war tent, saying something about urgently needing to see her brother.

"Let her in!" Fu Xuanming called.

Fu Lianmin rushed past when the people stopping her refrained. The moment she made it past the tent flap, Fu Xuanming met her.

"Meimei, what is the matter? What could have you so flustered?"

She managed to catch her breath long enough to offer a deep bow. "My deepest apologies for the disruption! I need only borrow my brother for an urgent matter."

"A-Min, did someone hurt you?" Wei Wuxian interjected.

"No! Nothing of the sort. My…" She reached up to tug at her hair, now very flustered. "My hairpin is missing, that's all…"

"A hairpin?" Nie Mingjue was incredulous. "That's what all this commotion is about?"

Fu Xuanming urged her on. "Mother's hairpin?"

Fu Lianmin nodded. "I had it during the campaign at the Tan Prefecture area, but I haven't checked on it since — I was going to wear it today when I discovered it was missing."

"Three days ago," Jiang Cheng murmured. "Your Clarity Bell?"

She shook her head and held up the bell hanging from her waist. "Undisturbed."

"Meaning it definitely wasn't some spirit who disturbed it," Wei Wuxian followed. "The only way your pin could be taken was if someone deliberately tampered with it."

Meng Yao held up his hands for peace and said carefully, "Let's all calm down. Who would seek to steal a simple hairpin? If it wasn't merely lost on accident, then perhaps someone wishes to return it to you as a gesture of peace. I know some boys would prank or tease a girl they like in such a way."

Fu Lianmin abruptly switched from distraught to furious. She would have crushed anything in her hands with the brutal force of her clenched fist. "Anyone who touches that hairpin will lose the hand they held it with!"

"A-Yao meant no harm in the suggestion," Lan Xichen interrupted. "What he means to say is that we will have it returned to you."

Jiang Cheng grunted, arms crossed. "When we find the culprit, they'll be in for a lashing."

Fu Lianmin nodded in approval.

"Forgive me for asking," Lan Xichen continued, "but what is the relevance of this accessory?"

"It was our mother's," Fu Lianmin explained, "and one of the only one of her possessions that remains. Our home was destroyed by Wen Ruohan — not bodies nor buildings remained after they had looted what valuable trinkets they could get their hands on. All we managed to salvage was what was on our persons."

"Da-mei," Fu Xuanming muttered under his breath, and then continued at his regular volume, "We will have it soon enough, meimei. For now, you may continue the search on your own. Skip out on your lessons for the investigation. You have my permission. Go on now."

Fu Lianmin bowed her head rapidly, said, "Thank you, da-ge," and retreated as fast as she had come.

Lan Xichen noticed that Fu Xuanming had relaxed, very abruptly. By the time he returned to his seat around the war table, he had calmed his nerves and returned to the topic at hand. Wei Wuxian still looked disturbed, as did Jiang Wanyin. But after the conversation resumed, they too slowly began to relax.

When the meeting was over, Lan Xichen made his way over to Fu Xuanming. The silent Lan Wangji trailed behind. He had never been one to speak at such gatherings, sometimes avoiding them entirely when possible. It wasn't required that he be there with Lan Xichen, but Lan Xichen often invited him knowing that he spent most of his time looking at Wei Wuxian.

Wangji was always concerned about Wei-gongzi these days. The demonic cultivation path had certainly changed a great deal of his personality, but then that could also be attributed to the war currently being waged. Even Lan Xichen felt the heavy burdens of constant fighting and bloodshed weighing down on him. Not to mention how horrible the fall of the Jiang Clan had been. While the Cloud Recesses had been dealt a severe blow, Sect Leader Jiang had — at one point — been the only surviving member. They had a right to be as upset as they were, hungry for revenge, even if Lan Xichen didn't condone such twisted behavior at times.

Other times, however, Fu Xuanming seemed to remind the pair how to laugh. Together, with their sisters, the Jiang Clan's top disciples and family would come together and manage to laugh and enjoy the nights between fights and strategy meetings. One might even believe they were back at the Lotus Pier, able to enjoy their lives again. Lan Xichen hoped their days would be like that, when this war was over.

Lan Xichen still looked forward to when he could go to Yunmeng and pick lotus pods.

---

"Wangji, what is it?"

The next day, Wangji looked distraught. No one besides Lan Xichen might be able to discern it, but indeed Lan Wangji nodded and reached into his sleeve. Then, he produced a green jade hairpin.

"Could that be?"

Wangji nodded, solemn. It matched the description of the hairpin that Lan Xichen had asked Fu Xuanming about after the meeting. "I found it," he said simply.

Lan Xichen breathed a sigh of relief. Wangji did not look so distraught because he had been the one to steal it, but he didn't know how to return it without upsetting Fu Lianmin — he didn't have answers as to who had taken it, and Wangji was dreadfully awful at explaining himself.

"We can go together."

His brother was relieved.

The Twin Jades found the Fu pair on the training grounds. Lan Xichen began to have his doubts when he saw Fu Lianmin training with a practice saber against her brother. Fu Xuanming was wielding his father's sword, just slightly too big for him, but his strength was enough to swing it around like it was far lighter than it seemed.

Nie Mingjue was overseeing the training of all of his clan disciples, each of them practicing intermediate routines. The two Fu siblings were in a sparring match, with Fu Xuanming growing more adept at using his new saber and Fu Lianmin seemingly just there to vent some anger.

Without a golden core, Fu Xuanming's movements were slower than any proper cultivator's, and that included Fu Lianmin. Lan Xichen watched in awe as Fu Xuanming manipulated his body and weapon to become a small target, ensuring that no matter which direction an attack came from, he would be able to parry. Having a slightly oversized weapon actually worked to his benefit in that regard. All Fu Xuanming had to do was tuck in his legs to be shorter than the full length of his saber, so as long as it was at the right angle to intercept, he could raise his defenses in a split second.

There was still always going to be a window of vulnerability, but Fu Xuanming was aware of that too. The ground was another point of defense that one couldn't attack from, and Fu Xuanming used that to his advantage too, stretching his saber across the invisible dome of safety around him that could shrink if he pressed low enough to the stones beneath him.

He would leverage the other end of the saber with his foot or knee, tossing the saber to essentially just drop the blade in the path of his attacker and then retake the hilt at a different angle as necessary. In some cases, Fu Xuanming didn't retake the blade in hand, and simply manipulated it along his arm or leg as though it had become a piece of armor, before it then detached the moment he needed to attack or readjust it to a different limb. Fu Xuanming could even manipulate it to swing around just by touching the tip of the blade, rather than needing to keep hold of its hilt.

If Fu Xuanming made a punching motion, it was to punch the flat of his saber to give it enough force to defend against a slicing motion from Fu Lianmin. If he made a kicking motion, it was to move his saber to deflect both weapons into a different position to slip past Fu Lianmin's guard. The saber was being used in ways no cultivator would ever think to try, and rare was it that Fu Xuanming actually swung it with the intent to cut — when he did, it was after a hard-fought and well-earned setup.

As for the rest of his body, Fu Xuanming basically had no choice but to use every limb to its fullest extent. There wasn't a single moment he wasn't moving, there wasn't a single pause between actions. There was always one limb on the ground for balance and footwork, be it an actual foot or a hand, but the other three had to be defending or attacking. Instead of using two hands or two feet to move, he used momentum for balance and committed to the motion until another limb hit the ground to redirect.

Most of his movements were reactions to his opponent, but those reactions flowed into counterattacks — since counterattacks were the only way Fu Xuanming could slip in an offensive technique. If he wasn't attacking with his hands, he was kicking with his foot. If he wasn't attacking, he was moving out of the way. He was ambidextrous and equally effective with both sides of his body. He had to be. Defense and offense had to happen in the same fluid motion, because Fu Xuanming wasn't fast enough or strong enough physically to keep up with a cultivator opponent in a straight fight.

Since this was just a sparring match, where Fu Xuanming didn't want to kill his opponent and also didn't want to be killed by them, it was the most unique fighting style Lan Xichen had ever witnessed from him. He wasn't disregarding his own wellbeing, and he wasn't desperately trying to end the fight in one fell swoop. It was a beautiful, mesmerizing dance. Lan Xichen couldn't help but admire the level of control Fu Xuanming had over every inch of his body and his weapon.

"Focus your center attacks! A saber is not a weapon for precision — your weapon's force should be capable of handling rapid bladework if you have the strength behind it. Fu-er-niangzi, stop using sword techniques if you're going to pick up a saber!"

Lan Xichen had never seen much of Fu Lianmin's training, as in Gusu, she was separated with the other female cultivators. Thus, he only had Fu Xuanming's descriptions of his sister's skill to go off of. She was indeed very practiced and diligent in her footwork and focus, but right now she was also dealing with a weapon she wasn't used to — sabers were much heavier and unwieldy for cultivators who were used to the swiftness and accuracy of a regular sword.

"Ugh!"

Fu Lianmin slammed her weapon against Fu Xuanming's so hard, the blade cracked. It was not a spiritual weapon, after all, just there for training purposes, and so it couldn't hold up to Da-mei.

Lan Xichen categorized Da-mei as a proper spiritual weapon, even if Fu Xuanming did not have a golden core. The blade was more possessed by a very powerful ghost than actually infused with a proper spirit. However, it was impressive. To those who didn't know that Fu Xuanming did not have a golden core, his sword was formidable and very likely infused with the strength of demonic cultivation.

Lan Xichen's normal smile wavered at the thought. In order to gain more control over his unique state, Fu Xuanming had begun learning and practicing in demonic cultivation with Wei Wuxian. While Wei-gongzi was undoubtedly the one coming up with most of the ideas for his new method of cultivation, Fu Xuanming was quick to follow his lead and master what he could.

Both of them had grown rather distant during the war, but it couldn't be helped. Lan Xichen reassured himself that they were still the same people he had once known, and when this trial was finally over, they would be able to return to their former dispositions. Somewhat.

"Fu-gongzi!" Lan Xichen waved them both over.

Fu Xuanming dismissed himself from Nie Mingjue. Lan Xichen was glad that the two of them were getting along. Nie Mingjue recognized a bold and brave spirit with potential whenever he saw one, always intent on giving them the chance to prove themselves — no matter their initial background or status. Despite being wary of Fu Xuanming's demonic cultivation, he didn't deny that no matter how bad Fu Xuanming got at times, his character remained the same. Even looking for trouble, Fu Xuanming held a good heart. When it came to his sister especially, he would never back down. Nie Mingjue could understand such a thing, feeling a similar duty to his own younger half brother and his entire sect as a whole.

"Is something wrong?" Fu Xuanming asked. He was breathless and glistening with sweat, but his eyes seemed to be shining brighter than ever. It was a wonder to see Fu Xuanming really enjoying himself. He shook out his sleeve after wiping his brow, and looked on the verge of removing his robes — though he had changed into a training uniform that should have been more breathable.

"Fu-gongzi, must there always be something wrong for me to want to speak with you?"

He crossed his arms, feigning irritation that Lan Xichen knew was exaggerated. It wasn't even enough to disguise the elation from Fu Xuanming's former training bout. "You should be used to me assuming the worst by now, Lan Xichen. Considering the circumstances as well, there is little time for pleasantries for the sake of them."

Fu Xuanming never brought up the incident that happened when they parted before the Sunshot Campaign began. It was improper for Lan Xichen to attempt, in any way, to court a nefarious person, let alone another man. While there weren't any explicit rules on the Wall of Discipline such as 'No male cultivator shall take another male cultivator as his cultivation partner,' it was implied that such things were never an option in the first place. Fu Xuanming seemed to understand this, and more than that, he was always worried about Lan Xichen becoming tainted in some way.

These worries were not unfounded. Lan Xichen had broken many rules just being in the presence of Fu Xuanming. Every time, he told himself there was an excuse, this was an exception. Every moment he was with Fu Xuanming during the Sunshot Campaign, he was not in Gusu or the Cloud Recesses, and so surely any rules he bent or broke didn't count. The Wall of Discipline and the rules of the Lan Clan were not to be enforced on outsiders, of course, and accommodations had to be made with respect to others. The balance was up to each individual cultivator to decide, and his fellow disciples were expected to have the maximum restraint at all times.

Still, with Fu Xuanming, he couldn't help living a different way. Just with him. A little Lan Xichen within him took over, where everything was backwards. Insults were compliments, teasing was flirting — lies could very well be true; the truth he had always known could feel like a lie.

Lan Xichen conceded, "Fair enough. But there is nothing to worry about at present. In fact, we have good news!"

Seeing the look on his face, Fu Lianmin asked eagerly, "Did you find my hairpin?"

"Wangji?"

He produced it as he had before, and repeated just as sincerely, "I found it."

Fu Lianmin snatched it up before Lan Wangji could fully extend it in offering. Her eyes ran over the hairpin, ensuring it was genuine. "Where did you find it? Who took it?"

Lan Wangji shook his head and said again, "I just found it."

Fu Lianmin scrutinized his face, checking for any hint of falsehoods. After a long moment, she finally began to relax and said, "Oh. Well…thank you, Lan-er-gongzi. I am in your debt."

Lan Xichen took over before Lan Wangji could be reduced to nothing but a head-shaker. "Really, there's no need. Wangji is just happy to have put your heart at ease."

Lan Wangji inclined his head in agreement. "That hairpin is a very special spiritual weapon. If it was once your mother's, you must treasure it dearly."

Fu Lianmin nodded. "My mother gave it to me to protect myself. It is…my Zidian. It was passed down through the leaders of the Lang Clan of Yong'an, and its invention was our specialty."

Fu Xuanming seemed to realize something, and opened his mouth to speak. But before he could, he thought better of asking, and clamped his mouth shut again.

"Fu-gongzi?" Lan Xichen prompted.

Fu Xuanming shook his head, refusing to ask. He had wondered if Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen had inherited anything from their mother, but then thought it far too inappropriate to ask, knowing their history.

"Shimei! You found it!" Wei Wuxian rushed over, ignoring any and all who stood in his path. Luckily only a few stray disciples were unfortunate enough to collide with him, and after that everyone kept a wide berth.

"Hanguang-jun found it," Fu Lianmin corrected.

"Lan Zhan?" Wei Wuxian's eyes widened, before his mouth stretched into a sinister smile. "Lan-er-gege, first Mianmian and now my shimei! And here people think you are cold as ice."

"I just found it," Lan Wangji repeated again, helplessly.

Wei Wuxian was relentless as always. "A very good choice, A-Min — though you might be stuck memorizing three-thousand rules if you want to marry him! I guess that means the only safe option is to make him part of the Jiang Clan and bring him back to Yunmeng instead."

"Wei Wuxian!" Fu Lianmin tried to stab him with her newly-recovered hairpin.

He skillfully dodged and was only further encouraged. He snuck behind Lan Wangji to avoid her and continued, "You'll have to win over Xuanming-xiong though, Lan Zhan. Don't you worry, I'll help you out!"

"You couldn't help him win anybody's favor," Fu Xuanming accused.

"Hey, nobody knows how to charm the ladies better than me."

"You mean harass them?"

"Shimei doesn't think it's harassment!"

Fu Lianmin's face had gone pink, either from embarrassment or rage. Regardless, she didn't dare approach Lan Wangji, even to get to Wei Wuxian behind him. Lan Wangji didn't look much better, though his expression remained as stoic as ever. He kept glancing between Wei Wuxian and Fu Xuanming as they spoke. He was stiff as a board with Wei Wuxian so close, using him as a shield.

"I have an idea," Fu Lianmin announced. "How about we trade with the Cloud Recesses? We get Lan Wangji in return for locking you up there!"

Wei Wuxian finally hesitated at the mention of being locked up. He quickly shook his head and joked, "Anything but that, shimei!"

"Maybe you're the one who should marry him," she continued. "You've practically already memorized the precepts. How many times have you been forced to transcribe them?"

"Are we discussing Lan Wangji's marriage prospects or A-Min's?" Fu Xuanming sighed.

"Hanguang-jun should be honored to have marriage prospects," Wei Wuxian said. "I doubt he'll ever find love without our help."

This finally seemed to snap Lan Wangji out of his daze. He slipped out from between the quarreling parties with a curt, "Frivolous."

Wei Wuxian waved after him. "See? So disrespectful. Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan! Don't take it to heart — I'm just joking! You can marry my shimei! I can finally have an excuse to drag you to Yunmeng!"

---

Lan Xichen was finally finished with helping Lan Wangji recover from the harrowing experience. He couldn't tell if Wei-gongzi was truly being mean or if he just still felt teasing Lan Wangji would make him happy. Lan Wangji was a mess either way, and it was all Lan Xichen could do to help him by practicing guqin into the evening.

The Twin Jades would have to take their leave soon. All of the clans occasionally met up to corroborate their strategy as the tides of battle constantly turned, but keeping all of their armies in the same place could leave other areas undefended, and so they had to be discreet and swift with their visits to the other clans.

Lan Xichen was hoping to apologize to Fu Lianmin and perhaps just have a proper conversation with Fu Xuanming that wasn't heavy with the constant war in their minds. He and Fu Xuanming still had enjoyable interactions, and he hoped Wangji would be able to continue enjoying friendly interactions with Wei-gongzi going forward.

As upset as Wangji seemed, he also had been enjoying himself — enjoying himself so much that he hated it. How dare Wei-gongzi make him so happy? Honestly, Lan Xichen didn't know what to do with his little brother. Understanding him and helping him were two very different things.

Every time Wei Wuxian and his demonic cultivation were brought up, Lan Wangji grew immediately cold and evasive. He was concerned for Wei Wuxian, Fu Xuanming continued to insist, and Lan Xichen agreed. But Wei Wuxian seemed convinced that Lan Wangji hated his method of cultivation. He was convinced that Wangi followed in the footsteps of Lan Qiren and abhorred everything he had become.

Lan Wangji himself didn't know whether to express his sympathy for Wei Wuxian and go against all their shufu had taught him, or to continue the safe route of agreeing with Lan Qiren, but scorning Wei Wuxian in ways he never meant to. Without anyone else to mediate the situation, Lan Wangji would never be able to be in the same room as Wei Wuxian without fleeing from his own conflicted feelings, and when he ignored Wei Wuxian, Wei Wuxian thought that Lan Wangji was avoiding him because he was disgusted or abhorrent towards Wei Wuxian's demonic cultivation methods.

It all boiled down to whether Wei-gongzi was truly considered evil. His methods were unorthodox, maybe, but he still wanted to fight against the greater evils that had taken his home. Lan Qiren couldn't say that all proper cultivators were unequivocally good. Those in the Wen Clan were still cultivators, and look what they were capable of doing.

Lan Xichen sighed just thinking about it. Lan Wangji wanted Wei Wuxian to return to the boy he was before, a powerful cultivator who never needed to resort to this lonely, dark path, who didn't seek vengeance and took pleasure in the destruction and suffering of his enemies. In the face of those who he disagreed with, Wei Wuxian used to be the kind of boy that would simply laugh it off and take the punishment in the aftermath. Though he had given Lan Qiren multiple heart attacks and enraged Lan Wangji beyond all reason, at least that was once where his chaos ended.

Lan Wangji seemed relieved anytime Wei Wuxian acted like he used to. When he could laugh and joke around. These moments were becoming fewer and further between, and they never lasted for very long. When war was on his mind, Wei Wuxian was bespelled by an unstoppable forward momentum. He was constantly found digging up more and more graves, experimenting in cruel ways with the dead, finding more efficient methods of killing.

Wei Wuxian was a brilliant actor, Lan Xichen had learned. He had suffered many losses in his childhood, and the Jiang Clan of years past had not been a household of total kindness. The beatings he took at the Cloud Recesses were — according to Fu Xuanming — nothing in comparison to the lashings and smackings he would get from playing around in Yunmeng. Wei Wuxian would caterwaul to the high heavens about how much pain he was in, but he was usually always willing to bear it with a smile. Being punished in Gusu was different, and Wei Wuxian had less control because of how unfamiliar he was with the people and the rules, but he still tried to be positive all the same.

That had changed, since the fall of the Jiang Clan and the subsequent war that came of it. Now, it was a lot harder for him to act.

His cheerful façade of past days was no longer just a means of keeping his own spirits high and that of those around him. It wasn't a joke or a game he liked to play, to garner pity and sympathy by exaggerating his pain. It was a mask, plain and simple. It was him pretending like he was still the Wei Wuxian of his childhood, because that's what he wanted to be — and what he wanted others to perceive him as. It was just no longer true.

Lan Wangji didn't want to believe that the past was gone forever, that Wei Wuxian was truly beyond hope. He wanted to believe in Wei Wuxian. But he couldn't accept who Wei Wuxian was now, and could only helplessly watch as he fell further and further into madness. Wei Wuxian wouldn't be able to return to his former self. Not until this war was over.

They all hoped, deep down, that Wei Wuxian could return when this war was over.

Lan Xichen was debating writing some kind of note or forcing Lan Wangji to tell the truth of his feelings to Wei Wuxian somehow. But even he himself didn't know what words would make things right. Understanding his reticent little brother and helping him were two very different things.

What could he possibly say? That Lan Wangji didn't really hate him? Because Wangji certainly did. He hated Wei Wuxian, and he hated himself for how much he loved him despite that.

That Lan Wangji loved him? No, Lan Wangji would never allow that — not admitting it to Wei Wuxian, not admitting it to himself. Love was out of the question.

That he was afraid of Wei Wuxian? Well that wasn't too surprising. Everyone was afraid of Wei Wuxian, to some degree. For his temperament and capabilities. How could Lan Xichen describe how Wangji was afraid of him…of everything he represented? And also of how he was afraid of losing Wei Wuxian, when Wei Wuxian wasn't even his to begin with?

Lan Xichen let out a heavy breath. Who was he to be worrying about Wangji's love life when his own relationships were already complicated enough? On this topic, Lan Xichen had to just admit that he was of no use.

"Cut the crap," Fu Lianmin said, and for a moment, Lan Xichen didn't believe it had actually been her who had spoken.

However, he was the Sect Leader of the Lan Clan, one of the Twin Jades raised his whole life in the study of music and the arts as weaponry. He wouldn't mistake her voice, even as she shifted it to a lower, more threatening pitch. He halted in his step and merely listened.

"Miss Fu Lianmin…" Meng Yao was addressing her as respectfully as he could, his voice shaking with humbled fear.

Lan Xichen frowned. Meng Yao had constantly been looked down upon by others thanks to his heritage. His father was Jin Guangshan, who would never recognize a bastard child of his, even as many as he had. While his mother was famous for being talented in the fine arts Iike guqin and calligraphy, she was still a prostitute. No matter how grand, elegant, or distinguished one of your parents was, your reputation followed that of the lowest common denominator — just as Fu Xuanming and Wei Wuxian were constantly mocked as the sons of servants.

Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen had worked hard to prove that Meng Yao was a worthy fighter, strategist, and an overall good person. He had saved Lan Xichen's life, knowing nothing about him, only that he couldn't tolerate the injustices of the Wens. He worked tirelessly under Nie Mingjue's employment, able to complete busy work and servant duties while they were short-handed, as well as taking care of civilians in the aftermath of battles. All while people treated him with so little respect. Lan Xichen was determined to protect Meng Yao whenever he could.

"Don't play games with me."

Fu Lianmin spoke like she had when the topic of her hairpin had come up. Most of the time, she was a kind girl, even when she stood her ground as a female cultivator. However, now she just seemed upset. Purely focused, filled with vengeance; like the shift that came to demonic cultivators in the face of something like war.

"You stole my hairpin, hoping to return it to me and garner further friendship — potentially even having me owe you. Just a tiny little favor, but one I wouldn't forget. Until you realized that I would not let anyone take what's mine and get away with it. The one to present me with the hairpin would immediately be suspect, whether they were the guilty party or not, no matter how much they smiled and apologized and tried to smooth things over. So you panicked, and ensured that Lan Wangji was the one to find it and return it to me. Lan Wangji's character is well-known and respected; he would never steal anything, especially to impress a girl, so of course I would not suspect him of anything."

For a moment, Meng Yao was quiet. Then, he said in a more serious tone, "So you have it all figured out."

Fu Lianmin was moving around the room, slowly. "Don't get me wrong, Meng Yao. It was a rather funny turn of events. I'm actually impressed. Not a lot of people are able to steal from me, let alone this hairpin. I expect boys to pull pranks like this for the sake of courtship, but from you, it was all the more confusing. I'm the daughter of Jin Guangshan, and no more a Jin than you are. Did you think I had the luxury of not knowing cheap tactics and underhanded means of survival?"

Meng Yao argued, "I'd hardly call garnering friendship by way of a returned hairpin underhanded."

"Underhanded is underhanded — dishonest is dishonest. If you really want to win my favor, you will never be dishonest with me. I'm not fragile. I won't kick you to the curb and run you over with a wagon just because you lied to me. This time. Believe it or not, I do want us to be friends."

"You…do?"

She made a positive hum. "Like it not…you and I are in the same situation. We've both been wronged by fate, born in the wrong place at the wrong time to the wrong man."

"Have you met him before?"

"No. But my brother has. He went to Lanling once, trying to test the waters and see if Jin Guangshan would give a shit about me if he announced that I was his daughter and explain our situation. Da-ge didn't share the details with me, but suffice to say, he determined it wasn't worth the effort to keep trying. Nevermind not wanting to recognize any of his bastard sons, he'd have no use for a daughter — I'd be nothing but a burden."

This was not unexpected. Meng Yao was one more famous tale of a rejected child of Jin Guangshan. After his mother's passing, Meng Yao had gone to the Golden Carp Tower to try and be received. Unfortunate timing, that he arrived on Jin Zixuan's birthday, and Madam Jin was far from pleased to be reminded of her husband's many dalliances. Meng Yao had been kicked out rather violently, rolling from the topmost stair of the Golden Carp Tower to the bottommost one.

Afterwards, Meng Yao had endured joining the Sunshot Campaign under the banner of the Nie Clan of Qinghe. Every battle he was at the fore, and afterwards, he stayed to settle the common folk in the aftermath — who could not hope to understand why cultivation sects were appearing and battling for reasons beyond their worlds. This especially impressed Nie Mingjue, who could recognize not only hard work but respect and honor. Meng Yao endured grueling work without so much as a complaint, and he also made sure to value and reassure commoners in the process. Such was the result of hailing from humble roots.

Lan Xichen had visited Hejian, escorting cultivators and visiting Nie Mingjue, when he had met Meng Yao. It wasn't hard to see the resemblance to Jin Guangshan and know his story, and so many avoided even accepting tea from the son of a prostitute. Lan Xichen had never cared for such things, however, and knowing Nie Mingjue's good eye, had joined in fully appreciating Meng Yao in ways no one else seemed to dare.

Things would get better for him, Lan Xichen insisted. Not because of his heritage, and not even in spite of it. Meng Yao was his own person, and Lan Xichen knew it wouldn't be long before he got his chance.

"That…that sounds about right." Meng Yao sighed, and the pair seemed to have come to an agreement. "There may be hope for us yet. Maybe we can wait until Jin Zixuan takes over and appeal to him instead."

"Psh. That peacock? He's nearly as bad as his father; he's just got the air of youth to him. He was betrothed to the shijie in the Jiang Clan, and she's an honest, brilliant young lady! But every time she's mentioned in his presence, he complains that he could have any woman he wanted, but he's tied to someone so mediocre. Ugh. Don't believe what anyone says about the broken engagement — it was all that Jin Zixuan's fault. If he had been forced to marry my shijie, he most definitely would have become just like his father, womanizing all around and breaking her heart."

"It sounds like you've lived a rather good life, in spite of it all."

"Good? Maybe. I was too young to remember most of my childhood when…when things fell apart. My earliest memories are of being on the run with my da-ge. We had other family, even friends, but they…well, anyway, the Jiang Clan was the first to take us in and actually offer the prospect of a home. And look where it got them. I'm a bad luck charm. A-Xu is the only one to…" Fu Lianmin let out a heavy sigh. "One day, my da-ge will have to find his own path and stop worrying about me. I have to prove to him that I can grow up and handle myself. It's not easy for a girl in this world, cultivator or not, of a good and honest sect or not."

Meng Yao shifted around the room, rising to his feet and grabbing a pot and some cups. "I know I…I didn't handle things well. I admit that I shouldn't have stolen your hairpin and tried to lie to you. I'm sorry. But I'm not afraid of a bad luck charm. I'm probably one as well. Such is the fate of the Jin bastards."

Fu Lianmin shickered. "Maybe so."

"In the end, all we can do is our best. Here's to doing our best together?" He poured a pair of cups for them.

Fu Lianmin seemed to have accepted, because she knocked one of the cups against his. "I can drink to that."

Lan Xichen smiled to himself and moved on. As expected, Meng Yao was a charming and honest young man, and even though he sometimes acted "underhanded", he had the best intentions at heart. Lan Xichen couldn't help but compare him to Wei Wuxian. What was conventionally right and wrong was never so easy to discern, but Lan Xichen had confidence that offering kindness whenever possible could bring out the best in people.

He continued to seek out Fu Xuanming. Though the leaders of the respective armies were all allowed to have accommodations in the main town where they were meeting, Fu Xuanming didn't sleep or need a room, so Lan Xichen indeed found him sitting on the outskirts of even the camp, far from any fires or tents.

Beside him was a man devoid of life. He didn't breathe, speak, or eat. His skin was as pristine as fine porcelain, stiff when he was not in combat, but swift and sturdy when he was. His robes were shifting shades of orange, red, and yellow, like rippling water reflecting the sunset, and even in the night, he glowed. His hair was similarly a shade of pale blond, indicative of his foreigner heritage.

Fu Xuanming's father was not quite aware of himself, as Lan Xichen understood it. He was a ghost trapped in a shell. His body had long since been reduced to ashes, but his spirit and soul had remained, forcibly trapped in a replica of his original form during Wen Ruohan's experiments to take his soldiers and put them into bodies who didn't tire nor feel pain.

This experiment had been a failure, as Fu Xuanming explained, because the process itself required a spirit with a desire to live after death — but as such, that desire would always take priority over any given command executed by the body. A spirit was used to power the inanimate object into something resembling the living, but if that spirit refused to power anything beyond its base desire that was keeping it from moving on in the first place, then at best the whole thing would become inert. At worst, the body and spirit would come into conflict, creating the equivalent of qi deviation, with various disastrous effects.

Fu Xuanming's father had desired only the protection of his child upon death, and so what remained of his spirit would only listen to Fu Xuanming and obey every command without restraint. He was considered the ultimate weapon to many who witnessed Fu Xuanming's demonic cultivation from an outside perspective. While his demonic cultivation certainly helped him gain control over things that he had merely been forced to tolerate before, his father had apparently always been like this. He required resentful energy to help power his body, able to charge by absorbing the energy from other lingering spirits or, now, with the help of proper demonic cultivation methods.

"Lang Ying's daughter will truly be great," Fu Xuanming was saying to a father that could not respond.

Sometimes Lan Xichen thought that the two of them were silently communicating, but Fu Xuanming had insisted that what was left of his father was not a proper person anymore. It was just echoes, a fragmentary piece of him that sometimes remembered what he was like and would react, but most of the time it was just going through the motions — an actor on a stage he never volunteered to play in.

"When she is grown, and she will be soon, I suppose that means I will be free to go where I please. Protecting her for so many years has become my life. Part of me wants to stay with her forever. But I don't think…I can live like that."

His father inclined his head, like he was trying to acknowledge Fu Xuanming.

"I know, I know. I have other people in my life to worry about. I think I should stay with Wei Wuxian. He has no one else who knows…and besides, learning demonic cultivation from him has proven beneficial. I can control myself during the bloodlust phase now. I was able to return Da-mei to the saber. She can come and go as she pleases. Right, Da-mei?"

The saber resting against a fallen tree opened its eye and whirled it around, before squinting with glee.

"Although Fu Lianmin was happy to have Da-mei around today, wasn't she? You found that hairpin on Meng Yao in seconds."

Da-mei seemed to shiver at the perfect vibration to make a high-pitched squeal. It seemed even happier with itself. Fu Xuanming reached out and ran his hand along the blade, like he was petting an animal.

"You don't want to leave her, do you?"

The sound from the saber now pitched down. Sadness. Longing. Regret. Lan Xichen had been studying instrumental languages for years, and even though he didn't know this new language personally, he could make his own judgments.

Fu Xuanming reached out and grabbed the saber, tucking it into his lap and arms. He did his best to hug the deadly weapon in earnest, saying, "I'm glad I have some of it back. Some of all that we've lost."

The saber's eye shimmered, like it was on the verge of tears, but being a saber, it was incapable of crying.

Lan Xichen abruptly realized he might be intruding on something. This was probably not the time to be striking up friendly conversation. He turned back the way he'd come, moving as silently as ever.

Even so, Fu Xuanming's hearing was as good as his own, if not better. He was used to outmaneuvering other cultivators, after all, so it didn't surprise Lan Xichen when he heard Fu Xuanming call, "Leaving so soon?"

He turned around and found Fu Xuanming had approached. Now only three paces away, Fu Xuanming looked up at Lan Xichen with a playful smile.

"Trying to sneak around, are we? One day, I'll tell the whole world all about your crimes, Lan Xichen. I'll ruin the esteemed Twin Jades of Lan with stories about peeping and spying and running around in secret like a child after curfew."

Lan Xichen only relaxed at the familiar accusation. "I didn't wish to intrude, but we haven't had the chance to discuss more…personal matters."

Fu Xuanming frowned, then shook his head. "If you mean the topic of marriage, worry not. Fu Lianmin may indeed like Lan Wangji, but they are incompatible."

"That's not what I meant."

"Okay, then how about Meng Yao and Fu Lianmin? To think, Fu Lianmin would find a brother in one who saved your life? If I had known you would get into trouble the moment I left you, I wouldn't have left so soon! And to think Meng Yao would be recognized by Nie Mingjue, no less. Or how about Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji? Everyone says they keep getting into heated debates in the middle of battle, fighting one another as hard as the Wens! Imagine what people would think if they saw Wei Ying teasing him to death with marriage prospects? Ha!"

Lan Xichen could only shake his head. "Wangji is most perturbed by the grave-digging aspect."

"He does go on about harming the body and mind, following the wrong path," Fu Xuanming sighed. "Why don't you ever say anything, Huan-xiansheng?"

Lan Xichen had been asked this only a few times in relation to his younger brother's thoughts on the matter. Many others had quickly dismissed the actions of Wei Wuxian, merely happy that he was on their side and slaughtering the Wens.

Lan Xichen remembered when Wangji had returned after his operation with Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng. Lan Xichen had expected Fu Xuanming to be with him, but he had returned alone, distraught, and so, so sad. Each time the brothers split up to handle affairs across the war, Lan Xichen would hear wildly varying rumors about Wangji and Wei Wuxian.

'It seems it was because Wei Wuxian's methods were too dark and grotesque. They got into an argument. Apparently, Lan Wangji severely rebuked Wei Wuxian — something about him demeaning corpses, being cruel and bloodthirsty, losing sight of his nature and whatnot.'

'If you ask me, there's no need for Hanguang-jun to fuss so much. The living are already on the verge of death. Who cares about the bodies of the dead? These are desperate times. Who can beat the Wen dogs when it comes to evil? In any case, he's on our side. It's all good as long as it's the Wen dogs he's killing.'

When they met off the battlefield, Wangji was stuck in the same place he had always been with the young Yiling Patriarch. He was pleased just to be in Wei Wuxian's presence, yet disturbed every time — like he had forced himself to forget all the things he was concerned about, and was abruptly reminded when they came into contact again. They weren't instantly at each other's throats the moment they saw one another, never going so far as to argue on matters of honor and virtue in the middle of killing Wens, but in truth, their relationship at the time wasn't as irreconcilable or antagonistic as the rumors made them out to be.

Still, they did have some minor, unhappy disagreements. At the time, Wei Wuxian had been out digging up graves every day. Lan Wangji never had anything good to say about this, and even actively tried to stop him. Something, something, "harming the body and mind is not the right path," and so forth. Since they were clashing with the Wen dogs every few days, either by staging ambushes or meeting them head-on, tempers ran hot all the time and they often parted on bad terms.

"These are unique circumstances," Lan Xichen said once more, reminding himself as much as he did Fu Xuanming. "I trust that you and Wei-gongzi have control, and while I find some of the tactics unpleasant…we seek the peace of the living, and shall put the dead to rest when we have the chance."

Lan Xichen always thought back to that first moment he had discovered Fu Xuanming's secret. One of them, anyway. When he had sacrificed himself to save Lan Xichen's life, when his corpse stopped him from running away. "S-Stay! Here." And returning his xiao to him with a forceful shove.

Fu Xuanming had control, of that he was certain. Demonic cultivation gave him control over the dead, but Fu Xuanming also technically was the dead; it gave him more control over himself, and how could Lan Xichen argue to that? Wei Wuxian was another matter entirely, but perhaps winning this war would put his mind at ease. When revenge was no longer his priority, hopefully his chaotic nature could be tempered.

"Well, thank you for your faith," Fu Xuanming said, "although when you put your trust in everyone, your trust becomes rather too abundant for value."

This lecture again. Lan Xichen got warned about his nature as many times as Wei Wuxian did about his.

But Fu Xuanming had long since given up actually warning him, and so continued, "Are you going to return to Gusu soon? Nie Huaisang is staying under your care, no?"

"He is indeed. Mingjue-xiong has given me his saber — he thinks to escape his studies by claiming it was left behind." Lan Xichen produced it from his qiankun sleeve. "Their san-di is with Huaisang as well."

"San-di? Oh! You mean that little A-He, don't you?"

Lan Xichen was surprised Fu Xuanming even knew that the distant third son of the Nie Clan even existed, much less that he knew the child's name. "He's to come of age soon enough and form his golden core. It would be quite shameful for Huaisang to be surpassed by his junior of over half a decade."

"Poor Huaisang." Fu Xuanming shook her head. "I would assist in his studies if I could, but with no motivation to train, it can't be helped. Being a younger brother with nothing to worry about thanks to his elder, more capable sibling. But A-Yao never ended up like that thanks to me!"

Lan Xichen smiled. "Perhaps it is simply a Jin Clan trait. Meng Yao is a hard-worker and an excellent deputy envoy. Nie Mingjue even hoped to give him a letter of recommendation to prove himself to his father."

Fu Xuanming frowned. "But didn't he already get rejected by Jin Guangshan? Rather famously, in fact."

"There is hope. He is fully capable, more so than many others. He has had to work harder than anyone because of his past, but indeed the more people gossip, the harder he works. With Nie Mingjue's endorsement, he is sure to find a place for himself."

"Why would he still want to be acknowledged by that scumbag? Make no mistake, Zewu-jun, Jin Guangshan will display ambivalence at best, but he was nearly embarrassed by Meng Yao — to the point that he was kicked down the Golden Carp Tower! If anything, he will take extra measures to reject and humiliate Meng Yao into submission."

Lan Xichen's smile wavered. "Surely it can't be hopeless."

"He's appealing to the wrong man, mark my words."

Lan Xichen recalled what he had overheard before. Fu Xuanming had gone to the Golden Carp Tower for Fu Lianmin's sake, and had not spoken of the incident in detail even to his sister.

Fu Xuanming went on, "You should convince him to stay, to give up on a man who will never acknowledge him, much less love him. A blood-born father need not be the only love one receives. He's treated well here — far better than he will be in Lanling. No matter what he is capable of enduring, why must he be so strong just to be treated like a human being? You treat him well. You treat everyone well, but still. If even Chifeng-zun can find hope in him, then this is the right place for him to be — not pandering to some loathsome peacock who couldn't commit to a woman, much less the Sunshot Campaign."

Lan Xichen didn't immediately know how to respond. Meng Yao was ultimately the one who would choose his fate. He wanted to believe in his father because who wouldn't? The Jin Clan was currently struggling to hold their position at Langye. It could be a very good opportunity for Meng Yao to prove himself, and surely Jin Guangshan would not be so petty as to deny aid in a time of crisis?

Still, Fu Xuanming had been warning him over and over. Too much optimism, too much leniency, and it would be his downfall. In this case, if Fu Xuanming was right and Meng Yao built his hopes up again only to get kicked down even further…

"Shh."

Lan Xichen was spared from having to say anything when Fu Xuanming held up his hand. Moments later, Da-mei flew out on its own and into the darkness of the night. When it returned to Fu Xuanming's hand, it was drinking in darkened blood. Even without proper lightning, Lan Xichen could tell it was the blood of someone who was already dead.

"Father."

His body immediately sprung into action, disappearing into the same darkness that Fu Xuanming's sword had gone through. Within a few minutes, he returned to his position at the fire like nothing had happened. Fu Xuanming too replaced the blade into its sheath on her back. She kept the weapon suspended upside down, so the hilt of the saber stuck out near her left waist where she could either draw it or let it fly out on its own.

"What was that?" Lan Xichen asked.

Fu Xuanming shook his head. "Nothing worth worrying about. I had my father check the perimeter for any stray attackers. We'll be fine. You're heading back to Gusu tomorrow, yes? Might I join you? I still need to meet with your father on the matter of gratitude."

Lan Xichen hadn't missed how Fu Xuanming had quickly changed the topic. Nevertheless, he didn't press the matter and simply smiled. "You would be most welcome."

---

Fu Xuanming was not very welcome.

Lan Qiren had acted like Lan Xichen had brought back a demon itself, and looked quite distraught especially because it was Lan Xichen who was vouching for him. Even further, Fu Xuanming was being treated as an honored guest, with a high-level jade travel token and free reign to go about the Cloud Recesses as he pleased.

"Nie Huaisang, how about this?" Fu Xuanming offered up a new fan to Chifeng-zun's younger brother. "Try to use this fan like this!"

Fu Xuanming had successfully encouraged Nie Huaisang to study not with the saber, but with a more unconventional weapon. With some extra talismans drawn on the length of it, only activating when the fan was both open and fed even the slightest bit of spiritual power, Nie Huaisang need only swing it to create an arc of light similar to a sword glare. Then, with a delicate flourish, Nie Huaisang could return to fanning himself without a care in the world.

Lan Xichen did not comment on how Fu Xuanming was teaching Nie Huaisang to swing his fan with the same forceful strokes that one might use to wield a saber. Nie Huaisang did not notice, only further encouraged when Fu Xuanming reminded him, "If a fan becomes a part of your arsenal, your brother surely cannot complain if you were to be able to buy as many as you pleased — even be gifted many!"

And so Fu Xuanming tricked Nie Huaisang into doing work while having fun. It was a marvelous thing to watch, and Lan Xichen was further reassured that he had made the right choice trusting him. Whenever Fu Xuanming dragged Nie Huaisang into a proper activity like studying or playing instruments or even archery, Fu Xuanming made sure it was made into a game, and never pressured Nie Huaisang into perfection — in fact Fu Xuanming encouraged him to do it wrong, and then worked from there to utilize what he was capable of.

"Fu Xuanming." Lan Xichen guided him up the mountain to meet with his father.

Qingheng-jun was still a very reclusive character. Ever since Lan Xichen had officially surpassed him as head of the clan, he had gone back into seclusion for his cultivation …and his self-inflicted punishment. It seemed Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji latching onto the most troublesome duo to have ever entered the Cloud Recesses had only reminded Lan Qiren of his brother's mistakes, and while he could not control them anymore, he could vent his frustrations by being strict on everyone else.

Lan Xichen shook his head. Fu Xuanming had told him, 'The stricter you are on children, the more rebellious they will become when they are grown. Everyone must have an outlet for natural human emotions; being able to safely relieve the pressures of anger and hatred in small, contained doses is far better than bottling it all up to inevitably be unleashed with a vengeance later on.' Lan Xichen had been thinking a lot about things Fu Xuanming had said about the ways of the world.

"Qingheng-jun," Fu Xuanming bowed to address his father, and Lan Xichen offered his own more familiar greeting in kind.

Fu Xuanming spoke with care and diligence around Lan Xichen's father. If he told someone else that Fu Xuanming was this respectful and graceful, many would not believe it. They took a stroll around the restricted areas of the Cloud Recesses, allowing them free reign to speak as they pleased about the secret topics of Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji's past. Fu Xuanming even asked about the boys' mother, and Qingheng-jun was pleased to explain all the reasons he had fallen in love with her.

"There is darkness in the world and darkness in people," Qingheng-jun tried to explain. "There is also so much light. I believe that the true nature of humanity is love, and it is the environment with which we are placed that taints our hearts and brands that love in ugly ways. The secular world is filled with corruption, and to accept its beauty is to accept its faults."

"Qingheng-jun," Fu Xuanming said, "there are things that have darkened my body and soul. There are things that me and my friends have lost, things that have taken away our chances at walking the orthodox path, broad and bright, and force us down a lonely, single-plank bridge over the chasm of darkness. We love so fiercely that we poison ourselves to ensure those we care about are not tainted in such a way. That makes us evil, even if it's a noble sacrifice. If we do happen to survive the poison, and yet there is still no way to heal, what are we to do?"

Qingheng-jun smiled, and it reminded him very much of Lan Xichen. "Why ask me, child? You know how my story has played out. I am lucky enough to have A-Huan and A-Zhan. My wife's life was ruined, by her own choices as well as things beyond her. But she never stopped smiling, for their sake. I've missed out on most of their lives, Qiren is utterly ruined with his hatred for the unorthodox, to the point of punishing even the slightest hints of deviance — and I only have myself to blame."

"But you are alive," Fu Xuanming insisted. "You know what went wrong, what you have done wrong. Can you not recover and find a way to live your life anew? Or will you live in seclusion forever, regretting until the day you die?"

"That…is a good question." Qingheng-jun reached into his qiankun sleeve and produced a familiar Clarity Bell. "I must return this to you."

Fu Xuanming held up a hand, but not to take it back. He twisted Qingheng-jun's hand, curling his fingers around the bell to keep it firmly in his grip. "Keep it, please. Consider it a gift, and a good luck charm. It helped you through a very dark time, and I hope you would remain with its blessing at least until this war has concluded. You will just have to come out of seclusion again, if you really wish to return it."

Qingheng-jun's smile was ever so gentle. He tied the Clarity Bell beside his jade travel token, hanging from the sash at his waist.

Fu Xuanming rejoined Lan Xichen afterwards, and the two of them went around their familiar places in the Cloud Recesses. They trained in the archery range, in the guqin arena, into the Righteousness Room upon which Fu Xuanming spent the night on the roof rather than sleeping. Fu Xuanming's skills had not diminished over the years. He had even gotten very good at being the guqin player on the training grounds, and even made Lan Xichen miss the mark and hit only the outer ring of some of the targets — all with that smug smile on his face.

"I'm afraid we're both needed elsewhere soon," Fu Xuanming announced. "Oh well. The Cloud Recesses will always be here."

Fu Xuanming's gaze was drawn to the rebuilt Library Pavilion. It was nearly identical to the original version, with even the trees outside having been replanted and just waiting to grow back to size.

"Hey," Lan Xichen called. "How about we go to the springs to cool off for the night?"

"The springs are okay after the raids?"

"Of course. They're deep enough in the mountains that no one needed to attack anywhere near it. We've both worked hard today, and it'll be our last day here for a while."

Fu Xuanming placed a hand to his chin and then broke out into a mischievous smile. "Lan-lao-qianbei might not like it. Let's do it!"

Lan Xichen procured proper robes for bathing, knowing Fu Xuanming preferred to remain fully dressed, and the pair changed in the Righteousness Room before heading out. They would have only an hour or two before sunset, but then Lan Xichen had been breaking his regular sleeping routine many times during his constant travels. It couldn't be helped. His normal hai-mao routine was easy enough to return to at any time. He found he didn't want to, just yet.

When they reached the springs, Fu Xuanming smiled and hummed, "Ah, memories. Blinding you in the face, attacking escaped corpses! Something always seems to go wrong when I come here. I wonder what it'll be this time!"

"You mustn't think like that," Lan Xichen chided. "This is a good place for meditation and solitude."

"Then why did you invite me here as well?"

"We can be in solitude together."

Fu Xuanming reached up and undid his hair ribbon, setting it beside the springs. Then, he undid the sash on his robe and removed his upper layers.

Lan Xichen hadn't anticipated seeing Fu Xuanming's body tonight. Even though he had seen it before, the shock had yet to fully go away. The injuries that lined his torso continued down his arms and ended at his wrists. By then, the scarring had become thin enough and faint enough that you wouldn't notice much if you just saw a flicker of his sleeve rolling down, but…Lan Xichen couldn't tear his eyes away.

Fu Xuanming jumped into the spring, splashing water up the sides of the rock. He dunked his head completely under, forcing himself to adjust to the cold.

Without his robes, Fu Xuanming looked very small. There was clearly a lining of muscle beneath the scarred skin, but nothing so obvious as Lan Xichen would have expected from someone as strong as Fu Xuanming. He even enjoyed doing handstands with Lan Xichen, as Lan Xichen had once done with his brother, when they had time to spare for it, and Fu Xuanming had the arm strength to at least somewhat keep up.

Lan Xichen recalled a particularly enjoyable day when two familiar rabbits had intruded on their handstands, the boisterous one tugging at Lan Wangji's headband, and the other following behind soon after. It would always follow the first. The two would roll around and fight before then settling beside Wangji's hand.

"Huan-xiansheng?" Fu Xuanming called.

He shook himself back to reality and began to set his robes aside. "What was the point of removing your robes if you were going to splash them wet anyway?"

Fu Xuanming snickered. "I'll just wait until they dry. It will help time our soak."

Lan Xichen did not mention how Fu Xuanming could dry his clothes at any time, even sopping wet and still wearing them.

Fu Xuanming slid further into the springs, settling under the waterfall and lifting his head to allow the cold water to run down his face and hair. The stream was gentle enough to glide without too much splashing or foaming, but loud enough to create a consistent hum in the background for those trying to meditate.

Fu Xuanming was usually always trying to start a conversation, like the presence of others necessitated it. However, now he seemed entranced with the falls pouring over his body, running down along his scars. A smile crept along his lips, a rare smile not filled with some hidden intent or malice. He was just enjoying himself on the most basic level.

Lan Xichen figured that Fu Xuanming rarely had the opportunity to strip down like this, show his scars to someone else, and so he enjoyed the quiet as well. His eyes freely roamed down the twists and turns of Fu Xuanming's body, and part of him wondered why all of these scars remained despite Fu Xuanming being able to channel healing magic so efficiently. The bite marks on his neck from when he had died to an attack hound had disappeared, so these couldn't be remnants of previous times he had died…right?

As Lan Xichen's eyes lifted up, he took in the smooth curve of Fu Xuanming's neck, the delicate structure of his cheekbones, and the way his hair flowed freely while it was wet and not bound up. Lan Xichen abruptly felt as though he was seeing something he shouldn't.

He dunked his head beneath the cold springs, realizing how warm his face was.

"Huan-xiansheng, are you okay?"

He shook out his hair and pulled his proper smile back to his face. "Yes, of course. You seem to be enjoying yourself. I'm glad."

Fu Xuanming chuckled. "You know, I haven't truly felt so at ease in a long time. We're in the middle of a war, and yet somehow this moment feels more certain than any sort of fate."

"I suppose the beauty of the springs has enchanted you."

"Maybe so."

Fu Xuanming let them fall into mutual silence again.

"Fu-gongzi…?"

"What is it?"

"May I ask about your scars?"

"Of course you can. You know that. I'm surprised you're finally willing to ask at all."

He nodded. "I…I want to ask, and I have the confidence that you will answer. And yet I'm at a loss as to what I should even ask at all."

Fu Xuanming's expression fell solemn, and yet Lan Xichen thought he could see amusement in his eyes. "Then that is all you need to ask. I suppose you're wondering why these wounds have not healed, even though all other damage is indeed fixed when I am killed and restored."

Lan Xichen nodded, and waited.

"I told you before that these cuts were the first. That wasn't a lie. I let them scar over on purpose. A reminder, you could say. The truth is…most of these are from lingchi."

Lan Xichen felt his body go still.

Fu Xuanming began to smile, then to laugh. "I…it's rather embarrassing to say it aloud. Ha ha ha. Who can say they know what it is like to survive death by a thousand cuts? Who would even believe me? How is one supposed to react to the knowledge?"

Lan Xichen had to force himself to breathe, then to swallow, and force out his shallow words, "Wen Ruohan?"

Fu Xuanming nodded. "Tortured to try and activate my father's spirit. My next deaths were experimental, as he tried to figure out how far I could go before I truly died, and if a wound too great and long-lasting would negate my healing. He stabbed me with a lot of swords…and left them in."

Lan Xichen didn't know what else to say. Fu Xuanming didn't mind and continued.

"I remember bits and pieces. There's no real way to describe feeling your heart and lungs punctured and still…being alive. I think I stopped remembering when my head was…anyway, I didn't remember, so I recovered. I still have my eyes and mouth intact, so there's that."

"Do you mean…you could heal those if you wanted to?"

Fu Xuanming shrugged. "I honestly don't know. I was young when I received the injuries. To heal something, I have to know what I'm healing and how to put it back together properly. I've had these wounds so long that…I don't know what my body would look like if I did heal."

"They don't hurt, right?"

Fu Xuanming shook his head, seemingly pleased that he could at least ease some of Lan Xichen's worries. "They're just for show. Here, you can touch if you want."

Fu Xuanming approached, and Lan Xichen was caught between backing up and holding still. In the end, Fu Xuanming offered his arm, and Lan Xichen carefully reached out to touch his skin. It was rough and uneven, thick like muscle exposed to the air, but skin all the same.

Lan Xichen moved his attention to the large sun brand on Fu Xuanming's left flank. He unconsciously traced the shape of it, sweeping his fingers along some of the fiery edges. Half of the brand was underwater where Fu Xuanming stood.

Then, his eyes were drawn upwards to the circular crystalline ring embedded up between Fu Xuanming's clavicles.

"Is…what is that?" Lan Xichen finally asked. He had wondered for a very long time, but he also wondered if Fu Xuanming would even give him an honest answer if he did ask.

Fu Xuanming hovered a hand over the ring, and then smiled fondly. "My father's ashes."

"His…ashes," Lan Xichen repeated.

"My father's original body was eventually destroyed and put into the one you see now. An artificial body, more sanitary than a walking corpse. They say that one can control a ghost if you get your hands on their ashes. Wen Ruohan tried. Ghosts, if they become strong enough, can attain a physical form when they become strong enough — as you know. By trapping my father in an artificial body and animating it with what remained of his spirit, then controlling it with his ashes…"

It sounded very familiar to the experimentation Wei Wuxian often did as he discovered further limitations and potential for his demonic cultivation.

"He failed, as you know. If my father had become a proper ghost and not been shoved into an artificial body, he might have indeed been subject to the will of the one who held his ashes. In the end, Wen Ruohan's various efforts canceled each other out. When we escaped, I made sure to bring the ring with me. The reason his body shut down was because he had gotten me to safety, and so his last act before he first completely lost himself was to shove the ring into the safest place he could think of."

Fu Xuanming seemed very happy to have the ring so close to him, in a place he could keep track of — close to his heart.

"Does it hurt?" Lan Xichen wondered.

"You ask that as though you don't know the answer."

He tried to explain, "I think…you don't mind pain, and you know what it is like to be in agony that should result in your death but does not. Your perception of pain is skewed, so what you define as 'hurt' is more extreme than most."

Fu Xuanming smiled. "You know me too well, Huan-xiansheng."

He mustered a proper smile this time. "And whose fault is that?"

"Yours, certainly. Your heart is so true and your words so genuine — I had no choice but to tell you the honest truth of my own. I don't mind, really, so don't feel bad about it. It's nice to…it's nice to have found someone to share the truth with."

The same feeling from before struck Lan Xichen just as abruptly. He was aware of how close Fu Xuanming was, that his hand still rested at Fu Xuanming's waist. Lan Xichen pulled back like he had been burnt. The cold of the springs should have chilled such thoughts from him — what was going on? Surely it was Fu Xuanming; he broke all the rules just by being present.

In barely a second, Lan Xichen had retreated to the edge of the spring and pulled himself out. "I just remembered, I have to make some final preparations before I leave. You can stay here and enjoy the springs as long as you want."

"Zewu-jun?" Fu Xuanming had sensed something was wrong.

"Worry not. It's just an errand I want to finish tonight. I'll join you for supper at xu time."

"It…" It is xu time, he probably wanted to say, but then relented, "Okay. Don't overwork yourself."

"I'll do my best, just because you asked," he joked.

It wasn't quite enough to put Fu Xuanming at ease, and for the first time in a while, Lan Xichen didn't know how to smooth things over. So he picked up his robe, still slightly damp from Fu Xuanming's splashy entrance to the springs, and fled before he could make a greater fool of himself.

---

Lan Xichen, of course, did not actually have an urgent errand to run. He couldn't believe he had lied. Dishonesty to others and to oneself were frowned upon in the Cloud Recesses. He was better than this. He had broken so many rules, but he no longer had the excuse that he was far away from home.

Fu Xuanming truly was a bad influence. Lan Xichen found himself smiling at the thought.

To try and make his excuse a little less of a lie, he tended to a few simple matters that were not urgent and not even his responsibility. No one questioned him wanting to be helpful; at most, his peers laughed and commented how efficient and generous Sect Leader Zewu-jun was always trying to be.

By the time he made it back to the Righteousness Room, it was nearly hai time. He had given little thought to how he headed to the Righteousness Room before the Wintry Room, where he was supposed to reside as the head of the clan.

Fu Xuanming was already there, sitting at the table with dinner prepared. Bowls of rice and curry were still steaming, and Fu Xuanming was pouring cups of tea when Lan Xichen entered.

"Huan-xiansheng," he greeted. "I trust your duties weren't so strenuous?"

He smiled at the sight. "I told you, it was nothing too exhausting. Did you make all of this yourself?"

"Some of it. I didn't even know you had kitchens in the Cloud Recesses! It pays to have the freedom to go wherever I please, combined with endless time and unerring boredom. Your meals are from the dining hall — all to the proper diet of Gusu. Bland and borderline medicinal in taste. I made my own curry. Feel free to try some, if you dare."

Lan Xichen was brought to the verge of laughter as he sat across from Fu Xuanming and reached to gather his share of food. He didn't say a word when Fu Xuanming began eating a second, then a third bowl of curry and rice. It was pointless to try to stop him or Wei Wuxian from breaking such rules, and there was really no harm done. The rule about limiting oneself to three bowls of rice came as a means of preventing gluttony and indulgence, but he felt it shouldn't limit someone to the point of starvation or lack of proper nutrients.

"Huan-xiansheng?" Fu Xuanming said, and he sensed a hint of hesitance in his voice.

"Hm?"

Fu Xuanming set his chopsticks down and refilled his cup. "Do you not want me to…if I gave you an improper…impression, I will not expose myself if it becomes too painful for you to bear. I had no intention of weighing you down with thoughts of horrors long in the past."

Lan Xichen finally caught on to what Fu Xuanming was implying. He hurriedly exclaimed, "No! It…that was never a bother. I am honored to have become a trusted confidant. For you to share your story with me was a great honor, and I will hold your trust in high regards to match."

Fu Xuanming's smile was bitter, for some reason. "Sect Leader Lan, I have scars both inside and out. I confess that this state of resignation and acceptance of mine is…it has been cultivated and mastered over time. If I may further bare my wounds before you, let me…" Fu Xuanming reconsided his words and began again. "When we first met, did you think I hated you?"

Lan Xichen said honestly, "No. I thought, even back then, that you hated someone very much like me, though."

Fu Xuanming nodded. He pursed his lips, then said, "My mother's husband. I told you about all the things he did, with a smile. Before everything happened, he was…he was a very good man. Or I thought he was. It's…I don't know how I can move on. He's long in the past, probably dead. Even if he's not, he holds no power over me. But when we met, I blamed you — if unconsciously — for being just like him. And for being like me. Naïve, and young, and thinking I knew who was good and who was bad. I told you my mother died because of him, turning in the Lang Clan and Yong'an to the Wen Clan. My mother and her people sacrificed themselves to allow my father and I to escape with Fu Yao. She…gave herself to him. He was upset that none of her children were his, even though they were married. So whatever Jin Guangshan had done to my mother…he did far worse. He made my father and I…and Fu Yao — though she was too young to remember, I hope — he made us watch."

Lan Xichen wasn't sure what to say, so he said nothing at all. Fu Xuanming had opened up to him in many ways, and just when he thought he knew everything he needed to know, there was somehow more. Wen Ruohan and his crimes were innumerable, but how could there be even greater evils than him in this world?

Wen Ruohan did not take the same approach as Jin Guangshan, feigning civility and kindness to save face even when he was so clearly a dubious figure. He would state with utmost certainty that his acts of cruelty were somehow justified and never break character in the meantime, but never did he have to act kind or generous to the point of proper deception. It was so much easier to see a villain when they acted nothing but evil.

Lan Xichen thought he had understood why smiles terrified Fu Xuanming. He had thought he understood, before. He knew why it was odd for him to remain optimistic through the kinds of torments that should have upset him just as Wangji got upset. He understood, and yet he refused to change. He thought he was getting through to Fu Xuanming, finally convincing him that it was okay to trust a smile. If nothing else, to trust Lan Xichen's smile. Was this Fu Xuanming's way of saying that was impossible, to tell him to stop trying?

"Fu Yao just remembers her mother being murdered. None of the details — although maybe that's even worse. The imagination can be far worse than cold, hard reality. Our home was sieged, all of the people killed or imprisoned. Eventually, my mother angered him into killing her, and her subordinates gave us a chance to escape."

Fu Xuanming pressed his face into his hands and dropped all civility. He began to cry.

Lan Xichen reached out, but caught himself mid-way. What was he supposed to do? He knew how to comfort people in these harsh times, when their entire lives had been upended, their homes destroyed, caught in the middle of a war they had nothing to do with. But Fu Xuanming's pain came from a place he could never reach. It was a place long in a past he had never known and could never heal.

Through his sobs, Fu Xuanming began to laugh. "I've never told anyone, not even Fu Yao. How could I tell her? How am I supposed to tell her that is how our mother died?! She only knows that the Wen Clan took everything from us. She considered him our father, her father! Now she wants to go to Jin Guangshan, just another sick bastard who doesn't care about women or children. Is it wrong for me to be glad that I was not present to watch the Lotus Pier fall to ruin? Is it wrong for me to think that seeing a home I loved fall apart, with the Madam fighting with all she had just for her children to escape…?"

Fu Xuanming bit back his sobs and didn't continue.

"It's not wrong," Lan Xichen insisted, though he didn't know if Fu Xuanming would believe him.

"I've never been at war before," he said, as if Lan Xichen expected anything more. All of them were new to war. Their generation was too young to be leading major factions into war, yet here they were. "It's surprising to find that I'm so good at it. I never thought that…I never even imagined a world where I could see the Wen Clan fall. It's scary. I don't even know what I'm fighting for. If and when we win this war…I won't have to be afraid anymore. I won't have to run from anything or hide from anyone. Fu Xuanming is the person I created to bury my former life in the past. To keep him safe. Fu Xuanming will face all the horrors, and my past self can be put to rest. Once the danger is gone…should I bring him back to life?"

Lan Xichen shook his head. "Fu Xuanming is you, and you are Fu Xuanming. You can live as Fu Xuanming, however you want."

"I think I'll be lost, Huan-xiansheng. I'm no longer scared of pain, or of dying, but I'm terrified of being lost. Funny, isn't it?"

The way Fu Xuanming spoke wasn't funny at all.

He sucked in a deep breath, broken by sniffles and tears. He wiped his face, almost angrily, and then moved to fill another bowl of rice. He began eating as quickly as he could, his hands shaking the entire time. "I'm sorry. I'm dumping all of my burdens on you. You don't have to reassure me or try to find some empty words. Don't say anything at all. That'll make it easier. I'll see this war through to the end. Even if I'm scared of what happens if we win, I won't sabotage our efforts. I'll fight with everything I have."

That was why Fu Xuanming had gotten the sudden urge to bear his scars for Lan Xichen tonight. He wanted to bear all of his scars. For how strong Fu Xuanming was, it was impossible to bear such a weight all alone. It was exhausting.

"Fu Xuanming, it is no burden for me to share in the knowledge of your history."

Fu Xuanming was brought to a helpless smile for only a second, but it was rather beautiful to see. "Thank you, Lan Huan."

Lan Xichen had been called Huan before by Fu Xuanming, but something about the utter and complete honesty in his tone caught Lan Xichen off guard. He reached to grab a bite of rice, thinking something along the lines of sharing the burdens of rice alongside him as well.

"Lan Xichen!"

His eyes widened as his mouth began to burn. Though the curry wasn't physically hot anymore, he felt like he had eaten a raw pepper of the spiciest variety. He had forgotten that the duo of Yunmeng ate food far beyond even the normal levels of spice, which was devastating to someone from the Lan Clan who ate very refined and yes, bland foods on a regular basis. If one watched Fu Xuanming eating curry like this without batting an eye, they would reasonably assume such curry was little more than a colorful garnish meant for style over substance.

"Wait, don't drink —!"

Lan Xichen had also forgotten that the duo of Yunmeng very frequently snuck alcohol into the Cloud Recesses. Later, he would muse that perhaps that was the reason Fu Xuanming had been so open to sharing his past that night.

Just like spices, one could not tell whether Fu Xuanming was drinking alcohol by the jug based on a change in personality alone. He had obviously not kept the Emperor's Smile in a marked container and had instead transferred it to an unassuming teapot. Lan Xichen had been drinking from a second teapot that Fu Xuanming had been deliberately pouring from, and he had thought nothing of it since the two of them already had relatively separate meals.

All in all, Lan Xichen had somehow ended up with the horrible combination of all the worst parts of being with Fu Xuanming all at once. A bad luck charm indeed! His last thought before he passed out was that Fu Xuanming truly was going to be the death of him. He would be laughing all the way to his grave.

When Lan Xichen opened his eyes, his head was pounding.

"Mmm…?"

He felt exhausted and sluggish, like he'd been working all night or transferring a great deal of spiritual energy — both things he had experience with during the Sunshot Campaign's duration.

The first thing that greeted him was the sight of Fu Xuanming. The second thing that greeted him was the sight of Fu Xuanming's wrists bound by a forehead ribbon.

When Lan Xichen reached up, his forehead was bare, his hair flowing freely. The two of them were somehow in the same bed, somehow in the Wintry Room instead of the Righteousness Room where they had been eating, and somehow wearing only their inner robes.

Lan Xichen nearly passed out from the shock and the shame hitting him all at once. Though the implication was rather clear, he still thought to himself frantically, 'What have I done?!'

---

You ever just go over a chapter like 3 times, think to yourself that you've fixed everything, you've combed this thing so thoroughly that every mistaken pronoun is in perfect condition, words are perfectly grammered, and then you move it to post and happen to randomly pull up a section where you spot a misspelled word and you grow paranoid that there are more problems out there? Yeah. Me neither.