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White.
A color he wore religiously these days. For everyday marked a day of mourning. Another day without Jin Guangyao… Meng Yao… A-Yao.
A color of innocence and purity, reminding him of the first time he'd met A-Yao. That youthful face had shone immaculately back then, his soul not yet tarnished with the prospects of murder.
After that first meeting, they saw each other again when Xichen was forced to escape Cloud Recesses. He had to leave behind his burning home, unsure of the conditions of his family members. He didn't know if they were still alive or if they'd perhaps departed from this world.
But he had A-Yao by his side, and A-Yao provided solace for him. When Xichen needed it most, A-Yao had offered him his shoulder to cry on. He also did whatever he could to strengthen Xichen's spirits, to help him get back on his feet.
Later on, A-Yao assisted with the rebuilding of Cloud Recesses, restoring it to its former glory. And prior to that, he'd played a significant role in the Sunshot Campaign, helping to bring down the tyrannical Qishan Wen Sect.
Despite A-Yao having done all these good deeds, he still ended up straying from the righteous path. Xichen would never understand how the A-Yao he once knew could sully his hands with the death of their sworn brother, Nie Mingjue. With the death of his own son, Jin Rusong. He could, however, comprehend the vengeance and hatred A-Yao held toward his poor excuse of a father, Jin Guangshan.
The man got what was coming to him, especially after he'd treated A-Yao with utter disdain. Used him for his own ends without a single ounce of compassion. Not once did he value his son unless it benefitted him, then he pretended to care. If one could even call it that.
Because of that man, A-Yao fell deeper into the abyss, committing atrocities until he reached his inevitable end.
But it could have been avoided, couldn't it? A-Yao could have relied on him, opened up to him. Xichen would have welcomed him in, accepted him with open arms. He would have done all he could to help his beloved friend. He would have been there for A-Yao, the way A-Yao had been there for him. He would have steered him in the right direction, and helped him to avoid going down the unrighteous path. If only A-Yao had trusted in him more. If only A-Yao had seeked aid before it was too late.
Even when it had been too late, Xichen could have done something for him at Guanyin Temple. If A-Yao had been willing to change, if A-Yao had been willing to mend his ways and get back on the righteous path, Xichen would have helped him.
But that chance had been ripped away from them both. All because of some dirty little lie, a trick of deception. A man he'd once thought his friend deceived him into believing something that wasn't true. Of course, said friend had solid reasons for what he did. Reasons to avenge his older brother's death.
However, that meant the need to sacrifice A-Yao's life. And though he was not the one to kill him, Xichen still carried that guilt with him, that sense of regret. Perhaps things could have been different had he not turned around and stabbed A-Yao. Had he assessed the situation better and realized A-Yao would barely have been able to attempt anything against him.
It only hurt all the worse when A-Yao vowed that he would never have harmed him. In that instant, Xichen regretted his rash actions. He'd hoped there was a way to turn back time, to have simply turned around and not drawn Shuoyue.
But… there was no way to do that. No cultivation technique would be able to transport him back in time to change anything. He was forced to keep moving forward. Aimlessly. Without a purpose in life anymore, but still having to move forward.
This silent and solitary seclusion he'd placed himself in wasn't helping at all. All he ever did in the Hanshi was contemplate about what ifs. He endlessly berated himself and blamed himself for having a role in A-Yao's death. He was angry at Nie Huaisang for the dirty little trick he played on him. He was angry at himself because he could have tried dragging A-Yao away to safety. He easily could have dragged A-Yao out of that temple with his prodigious arm strength… But he didn't.
Now more than anything, he wanted a second chance. He wanted to set things right. He wanted A-Yao back. He needed A-Yao back. He was so utterly desperate to get A-Yao back!
A-Yao. A-Yao. A-Yao! He couldn't get the man out of his head, out of his thoughts.
Sitting here in seclusion did nothing for him. Mourning, lamenting, regretting did nothing for him. Xichen needed to act. He needed to find a way to bring A-Yao back. After running any and every possible method through his head, all signs only ever circled back to one practice. A forbidden practice. A practice strongly advised against, prohibited by the Gusu Lan Sect rules. A practice that the entire cultivation world abhorred, shunned, outlawed. But at this point, Lan Xichen didn't care. Rules and prohibitions be damned. It was the only way. It was the only way, and he was not going to let himself be stopped.
He'd made up his mind. He'd made his choice.
He was going to go down a path he'd never once dared, never once considered before, never once thought he would take. But he needed to do it. He absolutely needed to do it. For himself, and for A-Yao. He would be willing to do anything for A-Yao. His A-Yao. He was going to bring him back. He was going to have A-Yao back by his side. He was going to reunite with his A-Yao once again.
By the means of dark methods.
The manipulation of resentful energy.
Demonic cultivation.
Xichen could already feel the darkness flowing through his veins, taking over his body, mind and spirit. He felt himself falling further and further into the abyss, surrounded by nothing but absolute darkness.
A darkness as pitch black as a moonless night.
So profusely, pitch black.