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When the only things that remained of Wei Wuxian Jiang Cheng found at the bottom of the cliff were Chenqing and fragments of bones, he had fallen to the ground on his knees.
Attempt the impossible, Wei Wuxian had always lived up to their sect's motto without trying. And so Jiang Cheng had clung to a sliver of hope that he was still alive somehow. Maybe he was clinging to the rocks, or he had fallen to the hard ground but he would still be breathing however faint, or maybe he had even gotten up and left completely. But if Chenqing laid here with its owner absent it meant he was dead and gone, and the bones beside it his.
Equal amounts of grief and anger choked him. He should be glad he was dead, he killed Jie after all, but instead here he was, grieving his death. And so he was angry at Wei Wuxian, and more so at himself for grieving the brother who had killed his sister.
He snatched Chenqing up with a roar, lifted Zidian high up in the air, the crackle of the whip echoing in the silence as he struck down and-
The whip hit the ground hard, sending rock and gravel flying. Chenqing remained in one piece in his hand.
Instead, he forced himself not to think of what he was doing as he bundled Chenqing and the remains of Wei Wuxian in his robes.
---
As the wife of the heir to the Lanling Jin sect, Jiang Yanli's funeral was a grand affair.
Her wound had been dressed, her body washed and donned in her best dress. Flowers surrounded her in her gold coffin, her eyes closed and face serene as if she was only in sleep. Her husband's coffin laid next to her, their deaths only days apart.
Fulfilling the duties the last remaining brother of the dead had to do, his knees ached from kneeling before her coffin, his nose itched with the constant smell of joss sticks and paper money burning, and his patience worn thin as he received and thanked each person who had came to pay their respects. At least he had Sect Leader Jin and Lianfang-zun who took charge in organizing the funeral, for he did not think he would have been capable of doing so himself.
Jiang Cheng had lost count of the people who had expressed their sympathies to him. He could hear the gossip spoke behind his back, how unlucky of Sect Leader Jiang, to take in a servant's son and treat him like a brother only for him to kill his sister.
And in front of him they would say, at least you avenged her by killing Wei Wuxian, as if it was a form of comfort. None of them took it to heart when Jiang Cheng did not respond to them, believing his grief had overwhelmed him from doing so. They were not wrong in that assumption, for Jiang Cheng was grieving the deaths of two when he should only be grieving for one.
And as he watched his sister turn into ashes in the furnace, he felt something in him crumble too.
---
Jiang Cheng placed the remnants of Wei Wuxian's bones into a plain urn, hid it in an obscure spot in the ancestral hall away from sight. As the last living descendant, Jiang Cheng was the only one left who was able to enter the hall to clean the ancestral tablets and urns, and so no one would have chanced upon the addition.
Jiang Cheng narrowed his eyes at the urn. That's all I'm doing for you, Jiang Cheng thought to it ferociously.
It said nothing back.
Hidden in the corner of the room with not even a single tablet for him what more a funeral, where everyone on the streets celebrated Wei Wuxian's death and revered Jiang Cheng as his killer, Jiang Cheng could not help but compare it to the grandeur of his sister's funeral that had finally ended a few days ago.
It's your own fault no one is giving you a funeral, he said once more to the urn as if in defense. This is already more than you deserve.
It looked at Jiang Cheng pitifully.
A mixture of emotions twisted likes vines in his chest until it seemed to choke all the breath out of him. Jiang Cheng looked away from it, his jaw clenched tight as he stalked out towards Chenqing who laid seemingly innocent in a chest.
He grabbed it and lifted it up with shaking fingers. It lingered in the air for a long moment before it was thrown back roughly into the chest with a loud clatter.
He slammed the door as he strode out, defeated and angry.
---
Jiang Cheng had not taken a break before he threw himself back into training his disciples if only to serve as a distraction from his grief and other conflicting emotions he could not put a name to. He savored in the ache in his bones, the weariness from a hard day of training, because it made it easier to fall into sleep.
But it did not stop the nightmares that plagued his dreams.
It was another night he woke up dreaming of Wei Wuxian. Cold sweat dripped down his back, soaking his robes and sheets wet.
Wei Wuxian's face before his death haunted him. Jiang Cheng, he had said resignedly and closed his eyes. The last time Wei Wuxian would ever speak his name, and it was him waiting for Jiang Cheng to kill him.
Jiang Cheng could not understand. He understood what had compelled Wei Wuxian to fall off that cliff, but he did not understand why he would. He was Wei Wuxian, he was someone who had always done the impossible, nothing could have hurt him. Hell, he had survived for three months in a place no one had ever come out alive from and invented demonic cultivation there of all things, so how could Wei Wuxian of all people succumb to suicide?
He should not be grieving the death of the murderer who killed his sister, but the thing was, his sister would want him to. Jiang Cheng himself wanted to.
He gritted his teeth. Wei Wuxian, even when dead he was still lingering at the back of his mind, in this space, in this house where he lived.
In a sudden rush, he stormed out of his bedroom to the storage room where Chenqing was hidden.
He opened the chest roughly, the metal latch clattering against the ground. He raised his fist to strike it.
It did not meet its target.
Instead, it hit the floor beside it, splinters flying as the wooden planks broke under the force of his punch. A sob wrenched his way out of him and he crumbled to the ground, cradling his bleeding fist in his other hand.
Wei Wuxian's death scared him. It scared him because it might be his fault, if only he did not think to strike Wei Wuxian, if he had helped Lan Wangji lift him to safety instead, maybe Wei Wuxian would be still alive. If he had not struck stone instead, would Wei Wuxian had let go of Lan Wangji's hand if he did not fear the cliff beneath them would crumble from the dislocated stone?
Wei Wuxian deserved to die, and it infuriated Jiang Cheng further that he did not want him dead, that it hurt him that Wei Wuxian had actually expected him to kill him. Infuriated that he was blaming himself for causing his death, and it was all Wei Wuxian's fault he was suffering now.
If only he had stood with Wei Wuxian from the beginning, but then it would mean the certain demise of the Yunmeng Jiang Sect when the other sects turned against him. If only he didn't let his sister take the sword for Wei Wuxian and it was him instead, but then who else was going to lead their sect if he died? Jiang Yanli's golden core was weak, and Wei Wuxian was not of Jiang blood. He hated that even if he had chose another route, it would be not one that was desired. But he could not accept that all of this was determined from the very start.
If only he had killed Wen Ning then and there in Burial Mounds, dragged Wei Wuxian back to Lotus Pier by whatever means necessary even if it meant Wen Qing and her clan would perish, even if it meant Wei Wuxian would never forgive him or himself if he let that happen.
Jiang Cheng was selfish, he knew he was, that was why he could never compare to Wei Wuxian. But what had Wei Wuxian's selflessness cost? Was it worth the cost of his sister's death? His parents' death? His own death?
He screamed into the quiet of the night. "Was it worth it, Wei Wuxian? Was it?!"
Nothing answered him but silence.
" 'So what if Gusu Lan Sect has Twin Jades, Yunmeng Jiang Sect has Twin Heroes.' That was what you said Wei Wuxian, and where are you now?!"
The wooden floor was dark where his tears fell. He rubbed at his eyes roughly, curled himself into a tight ball on the floor next to Chenqing. He would allow himself this once, to cry and grieve Wei Wuxian's death, and after that there would be no more tears spared for him.
---
Sect Leader Jiang's intolerance for demonic cultivation was one that had become well known throughout the land. It became common knowledge that if any sect caught followers of the Yiling Patriarch, they should bring them to Lotus Pier.
His disciples dragged another man into the room and threw him onto the ground roughly. He fell to his knees and crawled on the ground towards Jiang Cheng. "Sect Leader Jiang, please have mercy-"
It would always be Zidian that struck them first.
No spirit flew its way out. The man cried out in pain and fell flat onto the ground as he continued to bawl.
Jiang Cheng clicked his tongue in disgust. "Take him away," he ordered his disciples.
"Yes Sect Leader Jiang," they said, pulling him out of the room towards the prison. That was where those who practiced demonic cultivation and were unluckily enough to be caught ended up in. If there was a chance Wei Wuxian's spirit did possess someone, it would be likely that it would be one who practiced demonic cultivation.
When there was no one left in the room, Jiang Cheng sat down heavily, placing his head in his hands.
His emotions warred inside him. Relief that it was not Wei Wuxian, and disappointment that it was not. He killed your sister, he reminded himself.
And if he was not allowed to grief him, if he could not accept what he felt for him, it was more than easy to turn them into anger and hatred that bubbled and boiled inside of him. For if not, he might not be able to live with himself.
Gathering himself together because he had no other choice but to do so, when he stepped out to his disciples he was nothing else but the man who everyone knew hated Wei Wuxian to his core.
---
It got harder to get out of bed as time went by. But he had nothing but all of the heavy duties a Sect Leader had, especially a Sect Leader who had to take care of his entire sect all alone.
The longevity of the Yunmeng Jiang Sect and the upholding of Lotus Pier, these were the duties his parents had passed down to him as the heir to the sect, and Jin Ling was what his sister had left for him. Wei Wuxian left him with too many emotions to parse through and a demonic flute he could not bear to destroy. The dead left everything behind, including him.
It was more than easy to pin all the blame on Wei Wuxian. If Wei Wuxian had not done the things that did not have to be done, his sister would still be here, his parents might still be here. Wei Wuxian could have still been here.
It was all Wei Wuxian's fault that he was now all alone in the world with no one who cared about him.
---
When Lan Wangji came to see him three years later, asking if he had anything of Wei Wuxian he found at the bottom of the cliff, where Jiang Cheng could see that same hope that he once harbored that Wei Wuxian might be still alive and the accusation that he tossed Jiang Cheng's way that it was him who caused Wei Wuxian's death, digging up memories and emotions Jiang Cheng had repressed these past few years, exposing them all out in the open air when he had been making head in coping with everything, something foul churned inside of him.
He's dead, Jiang Cheng said. There was nothing but his bones and I threw them away.
He found some twisted satisfaction seeing the impassive Hanguang-jun's face turn to anger. Who did Lan Wangji think he was? Wei Wuxian was his brother first, they have spent their entire childhood together before Lan Wangji had ever came into the picture, so who was he to accuse Jiang Cheng of what he had done? Who was he to ask after Wei Wuxian and what remained of him as if Lan Wangji should have them instead of him?
And as Lan Wangji's anger resided and the fists clenched tight loosened themselves, Jiang Cheng was intimately familiar with the expression of grief and loss on his face.
Jiang Cheng twisted his head away, and he heard Lan Wangji's footsteps leave Lotus Pier on its own without a farewell.
Somehow, Jiang Cheng felt less alone, that he was not the only one who mourned the death of the Yiling Patriarch, that there was someone who knew Wei Wuxian for who he was. And then just as quickly he hated himself for feeling that way.
He thought of Chenqing and Wei Wuxian's urn stashed away in the dark corners of Lotus Pier, little secrets, taking space in his home just like Wei Wuxian did in his heart. Jiang Cheng hated the gratification that rose inside of him, that he had things of Wei Wuxian that Lan Wangji did not have.
Jiang Cheng swished his robes and stormed out of the courtyard. How long must Jiang Cheng go on like this? Where each emotion he felt for Wei Wuxian had to be doubled down with hatred?
---
When Jin Ling was old enough to walk, he was brought to stay in Lotus Pier. He and Jin Guangyao had worked out a schedule, where they would take turns each month to take care of Jin Ling. His nanny would then come along with him to Lotus Pier and teach Jiang Cheng the ropes.
And as Jin Ling grew up, his nanny was no longer needed and it was left to Jiang Cheng to take care of him on his own. Now, at six years old, he would let Jin Ling roam free and entertain himself with the toys he had gotten for him until Jiang Cheng finished his work.
Tonight, he was reading through the reports his disciples sent before he heard Jin Ling scream.
He dashed out of his room. "Jin Ling!"
There was no reply.
He rushed through the hallways. Spotting light in the storage room, he slammed the door open only to see Jin Ling sitting on the ground with his hands behind him as if he had fallen backwards. And in front of him, the opened chest with Chenqing inside.
There was no time to think. His body moved on its own as he snapped the lid shut quickly, pushing it away until it slammed into the opposite wall and snatched Jin Ling up in his arms away from the room. Finally at a safe distance, Jiang Cheng knelt down and scanned his arms and legs, relief trickling through him when he realized Jin Ling was not hurt.
And then anger overtook him completely. He roared, "What did you do?!"
Tears were already flowing down in streaks on Jin Ling's face. "I-I just touched it," he sobbed. "And something black came out and it frightened me."
"You shouldn't go around touching things you don't know!" Jiang Cheng shouted at him. "It's dangerous, what if it hurt you?"
"I-I'm sorry Jiujiu," Jin Ling said, his voice hitching on another sob. "I'm sorry…"
Jiang Cheng exhaled shakily, forcing himself to calm down. He hugged Jin Ling tight to his chest and stroked a hand down his back. He felt his robes dampen with Jin Ling's tears. "Everything's alright now," he said as comfortingly as he could. "Next time don't go touching things you don't know, you hear that?"
Jin Ling nodded against his shoulder. "I'm sorry Jiujiu…"
Jiang Cheng sighed. He carried Jin Ling up into his arms, trying his best to soothe him as he brought him back to his room. Jiang Cheng laid him down on the bed and wiped away his tears gently with the back of his sleeve, just like Jie had used to do for him when he was young.
Tapping a hand against his chest softly, Jiang Cheng crooned a lullaby until Jin Ling fell asleep. Only then did Jiang Cheng get up quietly and return to the storage room.
The chest was where it was when he pushed it. Jiang Cheng sat down and opened the lid slowly. He sighed at Chenqing, heavy with all the emotions he had pent up for years.
Only those who had a strong golden core could touch Chenqing without being hurt by the dark energy it held, that was why he and Lan Wangji could have held it without backlash. But the fact that Jin Ling had not been hurt by it when he had been too young to even begun training his golden core…
Did it somehow recognize Jin Ling?
I hate you, Jiang Cheng thought to it bitterly.
He fixed a lock on the chest, took out a plank from the floor and hid the box in the space beneath it before fixing it back on top.
The floor looked as smooth and pristine as it had before.
He only wished the memories Chenqing invoked could be forgotten just as easily as he hid Chenqing away.
---
When Jiang Cheng cleaned the ancestral hall, he would ignore the little urn sitting at the side.
And if sometimes he gave in to give it a quick wipe as well, felt his heart ache at the dust that had gathered on it from an intentional lack of care, he convinced himself it was only because he wanted to keep the place clean.
---
When Wei Wuxian returned to the living world, Jiang Cheng had taken Chenqing out once more.
He stared at it, as if he expected something to happen now that its owner was back. What was Jiang Cheng thinking, that it would fly back to Wei Wuxian as if answering his call just like Wen Ning had returned to him?
Everything and everyone flocked back to Wei Wuxian even after so many years, who did Wei Wuxian think he was?
Even the great Hanguang-jun had defended him, carried him back to Gusu-
He stopped his track of thoughts there when he felt the truth looming too close for comfort. He slammed the lid shut angrily.
---
It would be many years later before Chenqing was finally returned to its owner.
This time it would be held by hands who had no more urge to destroy it, the hatred bled away into guilt. It would be held tenderly, the secret buried with the dead for sixteen years now revealed to all, and Jiang Cheng hated owing any more things to Wei Wuxian when the one thing Wei Wuxian should never have given was circulating inside of him.
Instead, Suibian would take Chenqing's place in Lotus Pier, carrying another piece of Wei Wuxian just like the golden core burning inside of him.
And maybe it was time Jiang Cheng admitted it to himself. Just like how Wei Wuxian's core had been inside him all these years, he had always been carrying a piece of Wei Wuxian in his heart.
They said Lan Wangji had been waiting for Wei Wuxian for sixteen years, but wasn't Jiang Cheng the same?