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Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng had been tracking Wen Chao for days, following a trail of massacred Wen cultivators across the region. Lan Wangji knew they were growing closer, but he was unsettled by the corpses, ripped apart and torn to pieces as if attacked by a feral beast.
Jiang Cheng didn’t seem to mind the slaughter dealt on the Wens but there were traces of curiosity in his expression at what could be killing the cultivators.
The pair of them finally arrived to an abandoned building, the night dark around them as they suddenly heard screams coming from the forest. Sharing a glance, Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng ran into the trees, following the horrified cries. They found themselves in a clearing, Wen Zhuliu and a petrified Wen Chao, practically withering away with fear, clutching at his robes.
“He’s here! He’s here to kill me, too!” Wen Chao shouted at his bodyguard. “Hurry up and kill him, you useless shit!” He hadn’t even noticed Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji, though the same couldn’t be said for Wen Zhuliu, who drew his sword.
Jiang Cheng unfurled Zidian, his lip curling into an ugly sneer. Lan Wangji drew Bichen and prepared for a fight, but before either of them could step forward, shuffling footsteps echoed through the trees.
Wen Chao whimpered pitifully, his face shifting to an ashen shade. “Have mercy…” he whispered, repeatedly as the footsteps grew louder in the stunned silence until it seemed like they were the movements of a giant.
A shadowed silhouette appeared just outside the clearing and the three capable cultivators turned their weapons to it.
‘A fierce corpse?’ Lan Wangji thought. He prepared to neutralize it and leave taking offensive against Wen Zhuliu to Jiang Wanyin when the shadow suddenly blurred. The light dimmed as a cloud drifted in front of the moon, distorting their vision enough that they couldn’t make out any definable features of the figure as it flew towards Wen Chao.
Wen Zhuliu raised his core-melting hand, energy bright in the darkness, and slammed it into the figure but nothing happened. It grabbed his arm with inhuman strength, causing him to grunt in pain as his arm shattered with a series of sickening cracks. Before he could try and fight back, a clawed hand slammed through his chest. Wen Zhuliu choked, the hand ripping itself out with something in its grip and his body fell to the ground in a heap.
A stray beam of light revealed that in the figure’s hand was a heart, the entirety of its forearm dripping crimson.
Wen Chao screamed, crawling desperately away from the shadowed figure, “Please, spare me! I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have thrown you into the Burial Mounds! Have mercy!”
A low animalistic growl sent shivers down the spines of every man in the clearing.
The figure descended, Wen Chao emitting an ear-ringing screech as he was viciously attacked, blood spraying across the ground and the sound of flesh being shredded accompanying his agonized screams in a nauseating orchestra of noise. Lan Wangji couldn’t look; he shut his eyes and refused to open them until silence descended on the clearing aside from Jiang Wanyin’s trembling breath. There was no sound coming from the shadowed figure, aside from the drops of blood dripping from its fingers.
The clouds dispersed, pale light illuminating the carnage and the perpetrator who committed it as it slowly turned to Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng. Tattered and ripped black and red robes soaked with blood, open wounds visible through the torn cloth. Long, tangled hair fell around a familiar sharp face with clouded eyes that lacked any color as they stared back at the cultivators.
Jiang Wanyin screamed, rage and grief making itself clear in the purple sparks that Zidian unleashed as he fell to his knees.
Lan Wangji’s heart broke in his chest as he stared at the fierce corpse in front of them, standing unmoving as he stared at them with eyes that saw no longer.
They had been searching for months. They hadn’t given up hope that he was out there somewhere and now… they had found him.
“Wei Ying?”
As soon as Wei Wuxian had heard his name, whispered in a broken voice, he had turned to Lan Wangji and shuffled forward.
A hoarse grunt came from his dead lips, one of his blood-covered hands reaching up towards Lan Wangji’s face, not touching him but it still seemed he recognized him.
Jiang Cheng stared at them with bloodshot eyes, “If anyone else finds out, they’ll kill him.” When he spoke, Wei Wuxian’s head turned to him as if he could hear him and Jiang Cheng made a choked noise, angry tears in his eyes. “You said you were going to be at the bottom of the mountain, you liar,” he grit out, his voice cracking. “You were dead this whole time, Wei Ying?”
Another grunt, almost mournful.
“Will bring him back,” Lan Wangji declared.
“What are you talking about? He can’t be brought back, he’s—“ Jiang Cheng cut himself off.
“Restore his consciousness.”
Wei Wuxian was still there.
He was certain of it.
And he was going to bring him back.
-
His fingers were bloodied, staining the silk strings of his guqin. Wei Wuxian knelt in front of him, talismans and chains—oh, did it hurt to have to use chains on the man he loved—keeping him from lashing out at anything. Though, ever since Lan Wangji had reached out to him after he killed Wen Chao, Wei Wuxian has followed him peacefully.
He couldn’t bring him to Gusu—he had no guarantee that no matter what he said in Wei Wuxian’s defense that they would try to kill him—so he had found a secluded cave far from the clans.
Jiang Cheng couldn’t stay; he had a sect to lead and he grew even more vengeful and bloodthirsty when he found out that they had killed Wei Wuxian. So Lan Wangji was alone in his attempts to reawaken his consciousness.
He had sat for hours before his love, playing every song on the guqin that he knew.
Cleansing, Clarity, Purity, every single one in Gusu’s library that could possibly help him bring his love back to him. He played over and over, infusing the notes with his spiritual energy until his stores were drained.
Nothing was working.
Lan Wangji stared at the frozen form of Wei Wuxian and felt his eyes sting with tears, blood fingers plucking the strings to play a song he had written himself for the boy he had fallen in love with.
WangXian filled the air of the dimly lit cave, all of his love and devotion pouring out of him as he pleaded, please, please come back.
The strings settle after the final note, silence wrapping around him like a cloak of frost as hopelessness began to choke him.
Then there was a slight clink of chains. His head snapped up, seeing small twitches in Wei Wuxian’s hands, the tilt of his head barely visible and Lan Wangji hurried over to him. He knelt in front of Wei Wuxian, hands hovering just over his grey face as he breathed, “Wei Ying?”
There was a soft grunt before Wei Wuxian’s head lifted and Lan Wangji nearly collapsed when he saw a pair of pupil-less dark grey eyes peering back at him.
“Lan… Zhan?”
It was a hoarse croak, his vocal cords straining against the rigidity of death. Lan Wangji sobbed, leaning forward to press his forehead against Wei Wuxian’s cold skin. “Wei Ying,” he whispered, “Here.”
“What… happened?” Wei Wuxian managed to ask and Lan Wangji felt his throat close up; he couldn’t hold back his cries if he wanted to. His breathing was labored as he removed the talismans and broke the cursed chains that imprisoned his love. “Don’t… cry, Lan Zhan.” This only made Lan Wangji sob harder and he wrapped his arms around Wei Wuxian’s neck.
He hadn’t hugged someone else in so long. He was done hiding his feelings from Wei Wuxian, he would make them known and if he was rejected, then at least he was able to bring his love back to see his family again.
Lan Wangji didn’t expect for stiff arms to hold him, inhuman strength pulling him closer to Wei Wuxian. He was cold through the tattered robes he still wore but it was the warmest that Lan Wangji had felt in so long.
“Love you, Wei Ying,” he confessed.
If he hadn’t been able to restore his love’s consciousness, he never would have been able to tell him this. The words would have been left unsaid forever and Lan Wangji knew he would have regret it every second of the rest of his life.
Wei Wuxian was dead and it took nothing short of a miracle to allow him to hear these words now. Lan Wangji refused to keep them bottled up for a second longer.
There was a wheeze over his shoulder, like a strangled breath, and the arms tightened around him.
“Lan Zhan…” Wei Wuxian said, “You… mean it? Even now?”
He was a fierce corpse; nothing was going to be the same now. The cultivators outside of the cave would see him and draw their swords against him, would try and kill him the moment they saw him.
Lan Wangji would not give them the chance.
“Wei Ying is Wei Ying. Love you no matter what.”
Wei Wuxian pulled away, his dull eyes scanning his face and he attempted to smile.
“I like you… Lan Zhan. Fancy you. Love you,” he told him and Lan Wangji’s eyes widened. “I… can’t cry anymore. Or smile. But I’m… so happy.”
Warmth bloomed in his chest as he hugged Wei Wuxian close.
Lan Wangji would keep him safe. He would not let anyone take Wei Wuxian away from him again, or imprison him or kill him.
No chains would hold Wei Wuxian, his heart, ever again.