Chapter Text
“What Yunmeng Jiang? What Gusu Lan?” a Wen guard slurred, a bottle of liquor sloshing in his hand. “That Wen-gongzi and I burned both to the ground!”
The rest of his friends cheered and laughed, all of them enjoying the pleasures of alcohol, confident it was well-earned. After all, who would dare to defy them, the mightiest sect when already two great sects have fallen under their strength?
“That poor bastard, Lan Xichen got his core crushed by Wen Zhuliu!” he regaled.
“First Jade? What a joke!” another guffawed. “Eh, didn’t he also crush that lady’s core? That…..that one from the Jiang?”
“Who, Wei Wuxian? Bah, stupid girl’s good as dead! See what happens when you give a maid a sword? Che, she should’ve stuck to the kitchens!” he proclaimed, downing another gulp.
“Eh, laoda, laoda.” Another staggered to his side. “What bout that other jade? That- hic- that Lan Wangji?”
“Yeah, what happened to im’?”
“Second jade? Hah! An even bigger joke than his brother!”
War was hell.
She did not enjoy it, she will never enjoy it.
But she has accepted it. She will live through it.
And she is no longer afraid to kill for it.
“He was a rag doll when we beat im’ up! Showed im’ his place at tha’ Yiling teahouse. Not so pretty once is’ face is all bruised up!”
His colleagues applauded, singing praises to their conquests.
“A toast! To Qishan Wen!” he exclaimed.
The others raised their cups-
The one who raised his first was the first to drop dead before his cup could touch his lips.
The others stared, intoxicated minds belatedly noticing the arrow jutting out from his back.
“Who- who’s there?!” bottles abandoned, they hurried to unsheathe their swords, blundering like headless chickens in their drunken state.
“Stop playing tricks! Who’s there?!” one of them, emboldened by the alcohol still in his systems, roared.
An arrow pierced his throat, permanently silencing him.
“C-could it be Lan Wangji?” one whimpered.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Someone was walking up the stairs.
Their heads whipped around to see a maiden dressed in red and indigo robes with leather vambraces adorning her forearms and a bow in hand. A quiver of arrows was slung across her back, her long black ponytail swaying in the wind. Her silver eyes regarded each of them with the predatory gleam of a fox.
“It’s Wei Wuxian! Somebody, get the rebel! Get her-ACK!”
Before he could raise his sword, she threw a talisman at him, ropes ensnaring into his skin like a thorn bush.
Another talisman released a shockwave that sent them flying into the battlements, dropping their swords.
The remaining ones traded uneasy glances, losing all bravado they might’ve had, wary of the unorthodox but deadly talismans at her disposal.
More footsteps ascended the stairs. Lan Xichen appeared behind her, leading a group of Lan disciples whom surrounded the guards.
She smiled at them, white teeth gleaming like fangs. “Kneel.”
Seeing as to how they were outnumbered and hopelessly drunk to put up a decent fight, they surrendered all too soon.
Clearly, the security here has gotten complacent. They didn’t complain for it worked tremendously in their favour. No blood was shed on their side as they rounded up the guards and retrieved back their swords.
“Wei-guniang.” Xichen approached.
She turned away from where she was admiring the view by the battlements. She rolled her eyes at him with fond exasperation.
“Still with the ‘guniang’, Xichen-ge?” she huffed.
He smiled. “Xian-mei.” He amended.
These past three months haven’t been easy but slowly, they were becoming bearable. The first month, she drowned herself in work, spending sleepless nights conjuring new talismans, better arrays, her mind moving from one idea to the next like a grasshopper.
When she wasn’t hunched over her desk, she was practicing archery on the training fields. She fired arrow after arrow, refining her archery until she never gets it wrong. If she wasn’t allowed to run herself ragged with training (Jiang Cheng used Zidian to bench her a few times, he was getting the hang of it) she tested new inventions, tweaking prototypes that resulted in one too many explosions but yielded effective results.
She had bumped into Xichen in Lanling. Unfortunately, much to both of their dismay, Wangji was with neither of them. The broken remnants of his guqin found in the teahouse they were supposed to rendezvous at didn’t invoke any reassurance in them either.
As distressing as his absence was, both of them were soldiers at war that would determine the fate of the cultivation world. A war that cared little for one missing man.
But that man held a dear place in both their hearts. Thus, whenever possible, they did what they could to look for him, interrogating Wen disciples for clues, inspecting their dungeons for signs of Wangji.
During their search, she found herself bonding with the first jade. It was…comforting, knowing he cared for Wangji as much as she did. As much as she loved Jiang Cheng and Yanli, the former was occupied with the war effort and the latter was handling the administrative side of warfare last she heard. Having another older sibling figure with her was a comfort she appreciated.
Although she was undeniably Jiang Cheng’s second-in-command, there were still moments where she was frustratingly reminded of her core’s new limits. There were battles where she couldn’t lead the front charge; instead commanding the archers that provided much needed support.
More than once, she was faced with dubious looks. News of her damaged core had spread and Yunmeng Jiang was down to barely half its original number. However, their discontentment quieted upon realizing how each arrow she fired was rarely wasted, her talismans allowing them a wider array of tricks from more brutal attacks (like shockwaves of concentrated qi) to better diversions (she’s always wanted to attach fireworks to arrows).
While Jiang Cheng turned into force to be reckoned with thanks to his whip, his right-hand woman gained notoriety with a bow.
Still, Suibian’s hilt welcomed her grip. She traced her fingers over its wooden sheath fondly.
God, she’s missed her sword.
Beside her, Xichen was as solemn as the mourning whites he wore.
Seeing what was held amongst the pile of swords, she couldn’t blame him.
Bichen shone as ethereally as its missing wielder.
Before she knew what she was doing, she was cradling Bichen with utmost reverence, fingers wrapping around its hilt.
She paused, glancing at Xichen hesitantly.
He made no move to take it from her. If anything, he remained stock still, eyes fixated on Bichen as if it was the centre of his entire world (in a way, it was).
Bracing herself, she pulled-
Bichen’s blade did not budge from its sheath.
She held the blade close to her chest, fa zan glinting in her hair.
‘Lan Zhan, where are you?’
Wang Lingjiao woke up with an ear-shattering scream, body drenched in cold sweat.
Beside her, Wen Chao jolted in surprise, quickly making way to annoyance at her hysterics.
“What are you howling about in the middle of the night?” he snapped.
“I had a nightmare. I-I dreamed of Lan Wangji, I dreamed of him again!” she whimpered.
Wen Chao rolled his eyes at the repetitive nightmares she seemed to suffer from. He was fine with pampering her before, but having to constantly put up with her fits of panic was tedious and did little to improve his foul mood.
“Gongzi, gongzi.” She gasped, scrambling over to cling to him like a limpet. “I've been thinking recently. T-the strange killings at the offices, t-the corpses- what if we’ve made a mistake, a terrible mistake, what if it’s really Lan Wangji?!”
“No!” Wen Chao snapped. “Nothing crawls out of the Burial Mounds, much less a living being. Stop spewing such nonsense and making a fuss, can’t you see I already have enough trouble?!”
In a fit of ill-temper, he crumpled the letter in his hand and tossed it aside.
“Sunshot Campaign? Useless. Want to ‘shoot down the sun’? Dream on!” he growled.
Composing herself, she made to pour him some tea, seeking for flattering words that would placate him.
“Gongzi, those clans can only huff and puff for a few more days. I believe Wen-zongzhu will-” she simpered.
“Shut up.” Wen Chao cursed.
She winced. Clearly, the only reason Wen Chao tolerated her presence was for her body and even that pleasure was losing its intrigue.
There was a knock on the door, a messenger calling for his attention. Flicking his sleeves, Wen Chao turned towards the door.
“Gongzi, gongzi, gongzi!” Wang Lingjiao gasped, clinging onto his skirts for dear life, paranoia screaming through her veins. “Please don’t go, don’t leave me here alone, I’m scared, gongzi, I’m scared!” she bawled pitifully.
Wen Chao didn’t spare her a glance as he kicked her off and closed the doors behind him.
She scrambled towards the ball of paper he’d tossed earlier. Though she couldn’t read too well, she managed to make out what the letter said.
“F-four Great Sects……Sunshot Campaign….Q-Qinghe has fallen. Wen Xu….Wen Xu beheaded?!”
Hidden in the mountains of Chongyang was a fortress, housing a rebel base in its heart.
Like the vessels of such an organ, it was in a constant flow of activity. Disciples practiced sword drills in unity while those who rested ensured their blades remained polished and sharpened. Arrows strummed bowstrings in tandem, their sharp points seeking targets. Duos sparred and groups jogged laps.
Hearing such sounds eased Wei Ying. The background noise of such ongoings was near ambient. Knowing they were coming from the people they led, the people they saved, people who fought with them, all for the same cause, gave her hope.
Jiang Cheng was observing from his usual post. Braids, a mirror image to the style Jiang-shushu wore, were woven in his locks, his uniform modified to befit a sect leader.
(Was it only three months ago, he was still a youth who wore his hair loose?)
“Miss me?” she chirped, brushing his shoulder as she passed.
“I’m already missing the peace I had.” He sniped snarkily.
She sighed. “So rude. Here I was about to give you a present.” She tossed him Sandu, which he caught deftly.
He was pleased. “So, the mission was a success?”
“Is Sandu in your hand or not?” she raised a brow. Then she joined him in monitoring the cultivators down below. Some of them she recognized, others she knew were new recruits.
“Jiang-zongzhu, shijie.” Er-shixiong bowed. “Wen Chao has recently increased his troops to search for our whereabouts.”
“That guy’s more persistent than a cockroach.” She snorted.
“What about Chongyang?” Jiang Cheng asked.
“No suspicious signs yet. However, if the Wen dogs were to launch an assault, we might not be able to resist them.” He said bluntly.
Jiang Cheng and Wei Ying traded uneasy looks, knowing damn well that even with the addition of new recruits, the Wens heavily outnumbered them all.
Of course, they kept such worries to themselves. Morale is critical in war and this certainly won’t boost it.
Jiang Cheng thanked er-shixiong and dismissed him before turning back to her.
“Actually, I’ve got a present for you too.” He tossed her a talisman.
“Aw, you shouldn’t have.” She cooed, deftly catching it between her fingers.
Her smile vanished upon seeing the design of the talisman.
“This isn’t right……..” her eyes darted across the strokes. Bringing it close to her nose, she gave a cautionary sniff.
It definitely wasn’t cinnabar.
“That’s not an exorcism talisman, is it?” Jiang Cheng asked.
“No, there are more strokes than usual. 4 strokes, to be precise, entirely drawn using human blood.” She replied.
“Human blood? I’ve never heard of someone doing that.” Jiang Cheng said, eyebrows raised high in surprise.
“Wait….the effects aren’t meant for exorcism.” He realized upon closer inspection.
“Exactly. It’s meant to do the complete opposite. This talisman is meant to summon evil. Whoever’s unlucky enough to stick this up will attract resentful energy like a moth to flame.” She said.
“A talisman that summons evil, huh? Considering where I found it, can’t say I’m surprised.” Jiang Cheng shook his head.
“Where did you find this?” she inquired.
“At the supervisory office we were sent to attack last night. Someone else beat us to it and did a better job at slaughtering those Wen dogs than any of us could.” The smile he wore was like a knife.
(When was the last time she saw him genuinely smile? When was the last time any of them smiled?)
“So the bodies were in the same state as the others?” she deduced.
He nodded. “The rumours were true after all.”
Word has passed of a malevolent master shrouded in shadows, descending upon towns like an unholy plague, ruthlessly decimating any and all Wen strongholds within the area.
The corpses left behind were gruesome, a landscape of gore and torture that could only be painted by artists from the deepest bowels of hell. Bodies eviscerated; souls mutilated. Inquiry yielded little results and the crows ate well these days.
“Sinister.” Was all she could think of.
“Sinister?” he barked a harsh laugh. “What could be more sinister than Wen dogs? So long as he kills those dogs, who cares if he’s a demon or a heretic?”
She had nothing to say to that.
(Humans and demons; at this point was there really that big a difference between the two?)
“Jiang-zongzhu, shijie!” er-shixiong came back, panting, face red from his ecstatic run. “Jiang-guniang, Jiang-guniang has been escorted back from Shuchuan!”
“A-jie?!” “Shijie?!”
“Where is she?!” both of them demanded, eager to see their oldest sister and confirm her wellbeing.
Forgoing all decorum, both of them dashed through the woods, prayers and thanks swirling through their hearts in equal amounts.
Finally, finally they saw her.
Both of them were throwing their bodies at her before she even turned around.
In that moment, a small part of their world finally felt healed.
“Shijie…..shijie…Xianxian’s missed you.” She sniffled.
“Shut up.” Jiang Cheng choked out. “I missed you more.”
Yanli laughed wetly, stroking both of their hair. “As long as you’re both safe and well, I couldn’t ask for more.”
They remained in that embrace, briefly lulling into a bubble of safety before Yanli regrettably separated from them, eyes sorrowful.
“Yu-waipo sent spies back to Lotus Pier to look for a-niang and a-die.” She took out a wrapped bundle, lips quivering. “This….was all they could find.”
A waterfall containing months of grief came crashing back. Jiang Fengmian’s guan, Yu Ziyuan’s lotus tiara and both of their clarity bells were displayed in her hands.
Both of them dropped into kowtows, paying their respects right then and there.
They were-
Both of them were truly gone.
Deep down, they had known it was the most likely possibility but still, like a small animal unwilling to die, they dared to hope.
“We will return.” Jiang Cheng declared through tears. “We will take back Lotus Pier. Yunmeng Jiang will not fall.”
Yanli smiled, caressing their cheeks. They leaned into her touch, knowing in that moment they were simply her younger siblings.
“A-Cheng, Xianxian, both of you have grown so much. A-niang and a-die can rest easy knowing that.” She said.
Then she glanced at Wei Ying, worry evident.
“I heard about what happened to your core. Are you alright?” she asked.
Wei Ying smiled soothingly. “I have limits but beyond that, nothing’s changed. I will fight but I won’t die. I swear I’ll do what I can to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
Then she grinned. “God forbid I leave grumpy Chengcheng all by himself.”
“Who are you calling Chengcheng? And I can take care of myself, it’s you I’m worried about!” he snarked.
“Xianxian is 6 now. I’ve grown up, haven’t I?” she winked.
Jiang Cheng tried to glare but his face betrayed him eventually.
Unfortunately, such happiness shattered as Qishan Wen’s sun exploded above them.
Their eyes widened, the events leading to the massacre of Lotus Pier fresh in their minds. Those same events were replaying before their every eyes.
“Shit.” Jiang Cheng hissed with enough feeling for everyone present.
Wei Ying couldn’t agree more.
Wang Lingjiao rocked back and forth, teeth chattering despite the blanket tightly wrapped around herself. Every unseen sound sent her flinching, every flicker of shadow made her heart beat harder in her chest.
“What should I do, what should I do, what now?” she asked herself.
Outside, she could hear Wen Chao conversing. A new message was conveyed- something about the rebel base he's been deadset on finding. Orders were barked and as the footsteps faded, her blood chilled to ice, realizing she was well and truly left alone to fend for herself.
“I cannot die here. I can’t!” she bit her lip, contemplating her next course of action.
Forget Wen Chao. He’s made it clear that he couldn’t care less for her anymore. Like many mistresses before her, she was nothing special.
She only had herself to rely on. She might as well cut her losses.
Ensuring the door was securely locked, she reached under her bed for a chest containing gold, jewellery and other valuables she hoarded during her half-year of staying by Wen Chao’s side.
She pulled out the miniscule key she kept hidden on her at all times, muttering as she opened the lock.
“Shameless bastard, ugly toad! I won’t waste my time on you anymore. A greasy rat like you will die sooner or later!”
Her smug smirk morphed into a scream of terror as a pale disfigured foetus stared back at her, curled up in her chest as though it were a cradle!
She wailed, kicking her legs wildly as she shifted back from the grotesque sight. In her frenzied scramble, the chest was knocked over, hiding the foetus from sight.
How was this possible?! No one knew of the chest but her, no one could have opened it! How did such a thing get inside?!
Outside, the wind howled hauntingly.
Standing on shaky legs, she dashed towards the doors, snatching the talisman on the door frame. She stuck it over her chest, giving her some layer of protection.
Apprehensively sneaking back into the room, she grabbed a long clothing pole and tapped the chest once. Twice. It didn’t budge in the slightest.
Biting her lip, she snuck it underneath the chest and flipped it over-
Pieces of gold and jewellery tumbled out, scattering across the floor.
Releasing a breath of relief, she giddily gathered her precious inventory-
She froze.
She slowly turned around-
The foetus pounced onto her lap, a toothless grin unnaturally stretching from ear to ear as it hugged her bosom.
She screamed, throwing it off her and running out of the room.
“Guards! Guards! Get me out of here right now!” she screeched loud enough for the entire office to hear.
Bursting through the doors, her hysteria rose when she saw two guards standing there, unmoving.
“Why are you just standing there?! Get me out of here now-?!”
The guard fell down like a brick into a puddle of blood.
He was dead.
A strum of a guqin reverberates through the still night air like a scythe through wheat.
From the trees, crows peered at her, beady eyes staring through her soul.
“G-Guqin. Where is it coming from?!”
It strum with composed vigor, resonating in her ears like needles. Dark clouds blanketed the moon, shrouding all in shadow.
Inhuman growls breathed from dead throats, stiff bones reanimating, rotting flesh bulging with veins, teeth bared too wide.
Paralyzed with fear, she weakly stepped back, tripping over the threshold.
“S-Stay back. Stay away!” she screamed.
Outside, the crows spread their wings, flying with the fervor of festival dancers in tandem with the strums of an ominous qin.
Every single talisman in the office glowed an ominous red. They detached themselves from the walls, flying towards her like a swarm of locust!
“Lan Wangji! It wasn’t me! I didn’t push you down! If you want revenge, go find Wen Chao! Don’t kill me! Please, spare me!” she begged.
The talismans clung onto her like a second skin, wrapping around her neck like a noose. She could no longer scream as her lungs struggled for air.
She could only writhe helplessly, left at the mercy of the two Wen guards turned fierce corpses.
Mercy was not granted that day.
She screamed loud enough for the heavens to hear, high-pitched gurgling with blood. Viscera splattered across the floor, flesh torn, tendons shredded and bones crunched under the teeth of the corpses.
Her cries of agony were cathartic to his heart, long gone cold as the shadows he embraced.
Zidian sang through the battlefield, its purple glow prominent against the burning orange of flames. His sword shone with blood and his heart dived into the siren’s song of battle.
But no voice can sing forever without room to breathe. Eventually, a slash across his back made his knees buckled and swords surrounded his neck.
A few ways away, Wei Ying stood, bruised and bloodied but vigilant as a sentinel, shaky fingers gripping her bow. Below her were a small group of cultivators (the only group left standing) and charging towards them was a bigger group of Wens.
Her core was burning her meridians worst than the flames, there was a pain in her stomach worse than any menstrual cramp and iron-hot shards were digging into her bones.
She nocked three bows from her rapidly emptying quiver, charging them with spiritual energy that made her meridians scream.
They multiplied into nine before they reached their targets, the shockwaves crashing into the Wens with the force of a charging ox.
Her legs gave out from under her and she vomited, blood and bile dripping down her chin. She braced her bow against the ground, using it to support her like a crutch.
She was at her limit.
Her core could barely focus enough qi for one more talisman, nevermind an attack.
A raucous laughter full of underserved pride mocked her. Clenching her teeth, she glared daggers at Wen Chao. If looks could kill, he would be dead ten times over.
“Wei Ying! No need to struggle anymore! Your beloved Wangji has been waiting for you long enough!” he gloated.
She stiffened, eyes widening. “What do you mean?!”
“What do I mean? So you are still looking for him?” he laughed derisively. “You’ll never find him even if you search every corner of the world!”
Bow threatening to snap in her white-knuckled grip, she forced herself to stand firm.
“Where….is Lan Zhan?!” she demanded.
“I threw him into the Burial Mounds months ago. By now, even his bones should be nothing!” he cackled.
Her world came to a shuddering halt.
Lan Zhan-
Lan Zhan was dead?
The ribbon (his ribbon) tickled her neck, the sensation cold.
Then insurmountable rage burned through her, overpowering the pain of her broken core.
“Fuck you!” she roared, nocking her final arrow, channeling every ounce of qi into one final attack.
But the feeble remnants of power from a broken core was nothing compared to the Core Crusher’s.
Her bow snapped, dropping to the ground in useless splinters. Jiang Cheng was tossed onto his knees beside her.
Blood clogged her throat, her head was spinning, cotton stuffed her ears and her limbs were pins and needles that refused to cooperate.
Wen Chao leered at her, grabbing her chin, forcing her to look up.
“I’m willing to give you one last chance. I can be a benevolent master.” He purred.
She spat a glob of blood into his face.
“Eat….shit….in hell, you bastard!” she spat each word with enough acid to melt stone.
“You-!” he slapped her, snapping her head to the side. She regretted nothing.
“Make sure you melt her core properly this time! After that, send them both to hell!” he ordered.
She used the last of her energy to throw herself over Jiang Cheng as a human shield. If she dies, she’ll die protecting him, just like she promised.
(And who knows? Perhaps such a selfless act will grant her favour from the heavens so she can see Lan Zhan again.)
Then she heard the crow.
Craning her head up, her jaw dropped open as an entire flock of crows flew across the sky like an unholy plague sent from the heavens.
A guqin strummed.
And the flames flickered to a cold ominous blue. What was supposed to be a calming colour sent chills down her spine.
The eerie glow and the reverberating strums of the guqin struck primal fear into the hearts of all Wens. Jiang Cheng was tense beside her, arms wrapped around her shoulders protectively.
“Guqin……” her eyes darted everywhere, trying to locate the source of the sound.
Guttural groans soon joined the vivacious strings. Corpses that littered the base rose, an army of undead standing at attention.
Heart hammering against their throats, Wens and rebels alike stared at the undead with wide eyes.
Silhouetted against the moon was a figure of grace and malevolence. Robes, as black as the shadows wreathing him, billowed around him. Red eyes gazed down upon them, not unlike an executioner passing judgement.
‘A guqin.’ She could make out in his arms. ‘Could it be……?’
Another sharp strum, a simple command.
The army of corpses lurched forward with newfound ferocity.
Jiang Cheng and Wei Ying unsheathed Sandu and Suibian, the rest of their allies tensing themselves for another gruesome battle.
Yet, the corpses ran straight past them, ignoring them entirely as they mutilated every Wen soldier in their path.
“These corpses only kill the Wen dogs!” Jiang Cheng gasped. “One guqin controlling an army of the dead, who is this guy?”
Her mind flash back to brighter days in a classroom. An audacious theory that made Lan Qiren apoplectic.
“Demonic cultivation.” She realized. “Someone actually stepped onto the path. But…..” her eyes narrowed. “Whoever they are, they seem to be on our side.”
Jiang Cheng chuckled. “Who cares for his methods? So long as he kills the Wen dogs, he’s an ally!”
Needless to say, Wen Chao was absolutely scared shitless.
The coward tried to flee with his tail between his legs but was foiled by the last person he expected.
The tattered amorous robes cladding the grotesque body and the gaudy jewels in her hair made her identity obvious.
Sensing his master’s distress, Wen Zhuliu intervened, knocking Wang Lingjiao away from Wen Chao. But his attack was for naught as it didn’t deter her in the slightest.
The playing stopped and at last, the shadowy figure graced them with his presence, descending from above.
His strides were calm, each step composed, unfazed by the carnage he orchestrated.
Cradled in his arms was a guqin, the wood a polished obsidian black and taut strings glowing an ominous red underneath deft fingers.
“Wen Chao.” He did not raise his voice; did not have to for it spread throughout the field like a blizzard. “I told you, that I would kill you.” What were once topaz gold eyes blazed like rubies. “And I do not lie.”
Wei Ying gasped, hand rising to her mouth, torn between elation and denial.
She recognized that voice.
He gazed at Wen Zhuliu apathetically. “You cannot protect his pathetic life from me.”
“Better die trying!” the bodyguard decided, charging towards the demonic figure.
He was batted away as though he were a mere insect.
He raised his hand, suspending Wen Zhuliu with razor strings of resentful energy, digging into his skin like wire through wet clay.
“Is it worth it?” he asked eerily cold. “Is your loyalty to these dogs worth the innocent lives taken?”
“The debt….I owe...Wen-zongzhu…for recognition….must be repaid!” The Core Crusher gritted.
“You have no right to repay it at the expense of others.” He spat.
Bones were crushed to pieces, flesh crumpling like paper. Tendons were squashed as if they were grapes and veins snapped like strings. His arm hung limp as a rag, fingers no better than squashed worms.
The last thing Wen Zhuliu saw were ruby eyes staring at him with pure disdain.
Then he saw no more, as his head divorced his shoulders. The cut was precise, and immaculate; flesh, tendon and bone cleanly sliced through as if it were scissors through paper.
His headless body dropped with an ungraceful thump, blood gushing from the stump in a steady stream.
Wen Chao squealed like a pig when those ruby eyes turned towards him.
Striding forward, the blue fires casted their glow upon a face seemingly carved from ice.
A face Wei Ying knew all too well.
“Lan Zhan.” She whispered his name as though it was sacred.
Gone were the pristine whites of Gusu Lan, his forehead void of the ribbon he treasures. Black robes with elegant but simple touches of dark blue cladded his body, a stark contrast to his pale near-bone white skin.
When he gazed at her, she cried at how he wore such loneliness like armour, eyes speaking of an unmistakable tragedy.
“Wei Ying.” His voice haunted her and soothed her in equal amounts.
“G-ghost. GHOST!” Wen Chao wailed, making a run for it while his eyes were on her.
Wangji glanced at him contemptuously, nonchalantly making a gesture at the unmoving Wang Lingjiao.
She lurched forward at his command, cornering Wen Chao against a wall, cutting off his escape.
“L-Lan Wangji! If you touch me, m-my father will-” he blustered, voice pitched high with desperation.
“I am doing your father a favour.” Wangji huffed.
Wang Lingjiao’s mouth stretched open, wide as a snake before she surged forward, teeth gnashing against Wen Chao’s lips, jaws and neck in a violent bloody facsimile of intimate kisses shared between lovers.
Jiang Cheng’s shock soon morphed into vindictive satisfaction as the Wen heir was given his comeuppance.
Beside him, Wei Ying did not grin but could not tear her eyes away, morbidly milking the sight before her down to the last feeble gurgle from Wen Chao’s mouth.
“Wen Chao, have you ever heard of 五馬分屍?” Wangji asked as if he were sharing poetry with him but his eyes scathed with pure revulsion.
Wang Lingjiao pulled away, viscera dripping down her jaw. Wen Chao’s face was a hideous mess. His jaw was ripped clean to expose bloody gums and white stumps of teeth, nose disfigured and bloody, his neck coated in red like a shawl.
He wailed as the resentful energy pounced on him eagerly, wrapping around joints tight enough to crush bone into dust. They suspended him in the air, spreading his limbs out wide and pulled.
Chunks of flesh thumped onto the ground, innards scattering everywhere.
War has made her no stranger to blood but such a macabre sight made all her previous battles look benign in comparison.
For a moment, silence befell upon them. Even the crows remained docile despite the feast laid out before them.
“How?” Wei Ying asked at last. “Why?”
(How did you escape the Burial Mounds? How did you do all that? Why did you do all that? Why would you, of all people, choose this path?)
He lowered his head, unwilling to look at her.
(Don’t look at me, he wanted to tell her. Don’t look at me like that, I don’t deserve it.)
“For you.” He murmured, barely above a whisper. “I would do anything.”
(I would kill them all for you but ensure not a drop of blood tainted you.)
“Even demonic cultivation?! Lan Zhan, you of all people should know why you shouldn’t. You of all people should know the prices that come with this.” She said.
“No price is unaffordable.” He replied evenly.
“Even if it’s your own temperament? Your sanity? Your body and soul?! What if you lose control?!”
His eyes flash crimson. “If there is anyone that can master this, it is me.”
“Don’t do this.” She pleaded. “Let me help you. Come back to Yunmeng with me, I’ll take care of you.”
He stepped away from her hand as though it scorched him raw.
“No.”
That one word drove a knife between her ribs, straight into her heart.
Jiang Cheng clamped a hand over her shoulder, eyes grim.
“Let him be. He’s not of our sect, we have no authority over him.” He said.
“Lan Zhan!” she snapped. “Please.” Please look at me, please trust me.
(Please, won’t you spare me a glance?)
She wanted to grab his shoulders and shake him, embrace him but Jiang Cheng held her back with an iron grip.
“Don’t! This is an internal issue for Gusu Lan to handle, not ours!” he snapped.
Wei Ying’s pleas echoing in his ears, Lan Wangji wordlessly walked away, returning to the embrace of the shadows.
There is benefit to such darkness for it allowed no one to see his tears.
(He will end this war. He will fight. He will kill. He will win.)
(And he will love her still, even if he can no longer indulge it.)