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Sensations of the world slowly leaked back in on him as Xiao Xingchen’s consciousness stirred. He could feel the ground underneath him, pressing against his back, head, legs, arms. Sound came next: the stirring of the wind rustling loose sheets and whistling through cracks and holes. When smell returned, it was faint, like wafting without properly inhaling it.
Inhaling.
Xiao Xingchen went to inhale and found his lungs didn’t respond right.
He couldn’t breathe?
His entire body felt stiff, sore, as if he’d been asleep for a long time in a strange position. It was hard to properly control his fingers, but in his panic he lifted an aching arm anyway and put it to his throat to check that there wasn’t any obstruction there.
There wasn’t anything obvious, but what he felt made him pause anyway. Smooth skin was interrupted by what felt like a large gash. But that wasn’t right; when had he gotten injured? Surely he’d remember receiving a wound like this, but Xiao Xingchen did not. All he remembered was—was—
—What did he remember—?
Sight wasn’t returning, but he remembered why that was. He remembered the crushing guilt of seeing his closest friend, blinded and distraught, and knowing that he was the one responsible for such a thing. Now that he’d given himself a little more time, he could feel the familiar ache of his eyelids sinking into empty sockets beneath them. He could feel the bandage wrapped around his head. This was, without a doubt, his own body.
… Why was that even a question?
His fingers awkwardly ran over the gash as he tried to discern its origin and fight his stiff muscles. It felt like it must have been a very deep cut; in a place like his neck, surely it would have been dangerous if not nearly fatal. It felt like the sort of thing that he should remember.
But no matter how much he touched it, trying to jog his memory, it seemed like the only thing he was achieving with his efforts was agitating the edges of it. Xiao Xingchen eventually reluctantly moved his hand back to his side. He tried to give a sigh and was reminded of why he’d reached for his neck in the first place. Well, he couldn’t sense any danger at the moment, so he could take his time sorting things out.
A cold gust of wind blew outside, stirring up drafts in whatever building he was in. He could hear rustling… was it leaves, or perhaps paper? It was a familiar sound, one that it felt like he should have been able to identify better.
Xiao Xingchen slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position. His body felt strangely heavy and light at the same time, and the way everything felt stiff gave him the odd sensation of being disconnected from it. As a cultivator, his training put him deeply in tune with his body, but right now his spiritual energy felt slow to respond as well. If it weren’t for the familiar lack of eyes and the familiar sensation of his own robes on his skin, he would have suspected it wasn’t his own body after all.
His first instinct was to meditate, but the thought was immediately interrupted by the sound of footsteps from nearby, bringing someone who had already been close even closer. Xiao Xingchen startled; how had he not felt the presence of someone else here? But before he could dwell on it, that person knelt down and leaned in close.
“Daozhang!”
The single word, and the voice that had said it, hit him like cold water splashed on a sleeping person. It felt as if a fog over his memories was suddenly washed away. Xiao Xingchen gave a startled shout and shifted to his knees as he began to stand, reaching up on instinct to shove the person in front of him away, but strong arms caught his own, keeping the two of them from separating.
Xue Yang.
“You…!” He managed to force the word out despite the stiffness in his body making it significantly harder to speak.
He remembered now. He remembered now. He remembered the flood of loneliness as he realized that the friend he’d lived with for years had been nothing more than a façade. He remembered Xue Yang’s gloating voice as he detailed all the terrible things he’d made Xiao Xingchen do. He remembered—Song Lan—
A surge of emotion that felt familiar and yet foreign at the same time rushed through him, and without really intending to, Xiao Xingchen suddenly sprang into action. He didn’t know where Shuanghua was, and he couldn’t care right now. All that mattered was that the terrible villain Xue Yang, the origin of so much pain and suffering, was here in front of him. With an otherworldly yell that seemed to rattle his whole body he pushed down his stiffness and lashed out. Though far more accustomed to fighting with a sword he wasn’t helpless when unarmed, and Xiao Xingchen thrust his hand forward in a palm strike.
Something felt off about the energy he put into the attack, and the sound of Xue Yang colliding into a wall on the opposite side of the room met his ears. Despite the anger and sorrow coursing through him it gave Xiao Xingchen pause. Xue Yang may not have been particularly skilled as a cultivator, but with the strength Xiao Xingchen had meant to use, there’s no way it should have thrown him so far away with such force. Yet he didn’t have time to dwell on it before the sound of Xue Yang’s laughter met his ears.
“That’s great, daozhang! You’ve adjusted to it already!”
The word “adjusted” hit him like a second splash of cold water, and Xiao Xingchen started to put together several pieces of information.
The wound on his neck had shown no signs of healing to his discerning fingers, yet there was no blood present either.
The energy in his palm strike was not the type of qi he was used to.
He most certainly drove Shuanghua into his own neck with enough force to kill all but the most powerful of cultivators. And yet… had he not killed Song Lan, and crossed swords with him only a day later?
Suddenly he became acutely aware of the fact that since his first attempts, not once had he taken a single breath.
This was no longer the body of a living human being.
Another surge of emotions flooded through him, and he finished pulling himself to his feet. This time, with a bit of struggle, he managed to form a sword seal with his hand. He didn’t know if Shuanghua was nearby, but he might as well try to summon it—!
The familiar sound of metal cutting through air gave him a sense of relief, which was further reinforced by the sensation of a familiar hilt settling in his hand. Without hesitating an instant, Xiao Xingchen called upon all the strength he had in this body to drive the blade through it once again.
A sudden snap echoed through the room, and the sound seemed to reverberate through Xiao Xingchen’s entire body, freezing every muscle in place. Shuanghua’s blade bit his neck a second time, but it rested there, the wound only a shallow one. Perhaps if he could still bleed out it would have served its purpose, but now, no blood flowed. No matter what movement Xiao Xingchen tried to make, it was useless. Nothing responded, not even his spiritual powers.
“Ah, daozhang, are you trying to leave me again after I put so much work into bringing you back?”
He struggled against whatever force was holding him, but in the end it got him nothing. He could only stay there as Xue Yang walked over to him and wrested Shuanghua from his grasp, removing it from his neck in the process.
“It’s alright now, daozhang. There’s no need to do that.” Xue Yang followed the words with another snap, and Xiao Xingchen suddenly found he could move again. But his sword was already gone, and Xue Yang was continuing. That terrible voice that had already trampled all over him was continuing to flow out, now with a promise of halting him completely if he tried to make it stop. “We’re together again; isn’t that great? I know you acted rashly before, but it’s alright. I’m not angry that you killed yourself. After all, I was able to fix your mistake. You’re really lucky, daozhang. Now you won’t do anything I don’t like as well.”
Xiao Xingchen slowly sank back to his knees as Xue Yang spoke, his whole body shaking with the weight of his situation sinking in. Even in death he couldn’t escape his tormenter. Was his fate really so terrible that even now, he was unable to be at peace? Now he was a fierce corpse, completely under Xue Yang’s control. And yet, how much different was it from his life, when apparently Xue Yang had tricked him into committing a long parade of terrible deeds? His eye sockets stung with the desire to cry, but he could no longer do so with tears nor blood .
If he could simply, truly disappear, that would be the greatest kindness the world could offer him right now.
“Ah, but one more thing, daozhang.”
Xiao Xingchen wanted to ignore the voice, yet somehow it cut straight to his mind, making it impossible to tune out. Xue Yang knelt down next to him. Xiao Xingchen was sure it would be pointless to try to lash out even when they were this close, but he did deliberately turn his head away instead. His one small act of defiance.
“I’ve left you like this for now, but if you start doing too many things I don’t like, I can disconnect your consciousness from your body. I had to do it with Daozhang Song because he’s so disobedient, but you’ve always been cooperative, right, daozhang? I’m warning you now because I will do it if I have to, even if it’s you, daozhang.
“Now go sit at the table. You’ve been lying there for so long, and it’s been a long time since I had a meal with anyone. It will be just like before. I’ll even do most of the cooking, since I’m in a good mood today.”
It was a familiar routine to follow along behind this man while holding a basket, paying close attention to his footsteps to keep track of him. But there was little point to it now: whatever other people had once populated this city alongside them now seemed muted, quiet. There was no conversation of haggling or cheerful banter from the others at the stalls lining the street. Every so often there would be the slow, awkward trudge of stiff footsteps, but always those people passed by with little more than a soft murmur.
Given the state of his own body, Xiao Xingchen understood the feeling of stiffness.
Before Xiao Xingchen did not have a particular care one way or the other, but now he found himself sorely missing the raucous groups that would occasionally call out to make conversation. At the very least, it would have been something to interrupt Xue Yang’s voice.
“... That’s why I never buy from them anymore. Got it, daozhang? We’re getting our lettuce from another stall.”
Xue Yang went quiet and paused in his step, and Xiao Xingchen paused as well. There was something odd about it, as the silence stretched on far longer than Xiao Xingchen would have expected otherwise. Was Xue Yang looking at something? Xiao Xingchen strained his ears to possibly pick up on what could be off, but wasn’t able to discern anything.
“... Daozhang.”
The suddenness of it had Xiao Xingchen startling very slightly. But that was his only reaction; he didn’t even lift his chin to better point his face towards Xue Yang.
“Daozhang, we’re finally shopping together again. Isn’t that great?”
Xiao Xingchen didn’t respond. His expression remained cold.
“Daozhang, come on. If we don’t hurry, they’ll be out of good cuts of meat.”
Footsteps as Xue Yang approached him, and then a hand grabbed his wrist. A right hand, it always was, and Xiao Xingchen had never noticed before because who would think to notice something like that? If it was always done naturally, what would be odd about always being grabbed, touched, interacting with a right hand? The absence of a finger on the left hand could undo years of deceit, yet it had never occurred to him that he should check even once. He truly was a foolish man.
“Let’s go, daozhang. Like things were before.”
The words were mocking him. How could things be like they were before? Before, he had thought he had left his past behind entirely. He had found two friends who had nothing to do with any of the suffering he had brought upon others, and discarding even his name, he had left his past behind. That’s why he was simply “daozhang”. To be called that now, as if there were still no past between them… as if this were still a life lived as a new start, instead of a continuation of past mistakes… as if his name hadn’t been known the entire time…
It was mockery.
“Daozhang—”
“Xue Yang.”
Whatever Xue Yang had been intending to say, he didn’t finish it. Silence hung in the air between them, heavier than the fog that Xiao Xingchen could constantly feel on his skin. He hadn’t expected that to stop Xue Yang entirely. Had he really only been talking for the sake of calling him “daozhang” over and over? It was even more enraging than Xiao Xingchen had thought.
That hand let go of his wrist, and Xue Yang resumed walking forwards. Xiao Xingchen didn’t move for several long seconds. He probably would have been happiest if he’d been allowed to stay there forever, unmoving, disconnected from the entire world.
But he knew that he wouldn’t be allowed such a thing.
Xue Yang stopped walking forward and his footsteps shifted slightly, as did his clothes, in a way that Xiao Xingchen knew was him turning back to look. Before Xue Yang could say anything, or could take control of his body another time, Xiao Xingchen stepped forwards of his own accord. He couldn’t say whether it was better to follow along and remind Xue Yang of just how easily he had manipulated Xiao Xingchen’s free will, or fight against him and remind him of just how easy it was to exert absolute control over his body. But he didn’t want to hear that voice again, that voice that had disguised itself as a companion for so long. The voice that even now tore a hole in his heart each time he heard it, as he mourned the loss of the good friend that he never had.
If it meant Xue Yang would say nothing for the moment, he would take responsibility for moving his own feet forward.
It was as if even Shuanghua was mocking him.
Xiao Xingchen could easily hear the clashing of swords around him and the sounds of screams as one cultivator after another had their life cut far too short. He could hear Xue Yang’s terrible laughter as he slaughtered them. He could hear the familiar sound of Fuxue slicing through air, and the unfamiliar sound of it slicing through the bodies of living humans, as Song Lan was forced to go along with this terrible act. And he could hear the many noises that indicated the approach of cultivators intent on cutting him down as they were with the other two.
There was nothing Xiao Xingchen wanted more than to lower his sword and let them run him through until he ceased his movements, but that wasn’t allowed. Each time he sensed an attack coming, his body moved on instinct: parry, dodge, use the momentum and his well-honed fighting instincts to—
And yet, as if mocking him, each time he drove Shuanghua into another living human, it protested that it had found the wrong target. Though it sought out corpse energy, never was it allowed to bury itself in either fierce corpse nearby. What it wanted more than anything else was to turn on its wielder, and its wielder also wished for nothing more than to feel the bite of the blade.
“Daozhang, don’t just stand there!” Xue Yang called out from nearby, his command punctuated by the sound of a body hitting the ground. “If you don’t help, one of us might get hurt, you know? Do you really want to abandon your friend like that?”
Heat welled up inside of Xiao Xingchen: sorrow, and anger, and rage all amplified by the resentful energy used to animate him. It was so much harder to control these emotions now.
Why would he bother to protect Xue Yang? Why would he want to do the same things as Song Lan was being forced to do, when the best thing he could do for both of them would be to allow them to finally have peace?
“Oh, I get it. You’re still mad at him for abandoning you first, aren’t you, daozhang?” Xue Yang jumped over and landed directly in front of Xiao Xingchen. Despite all the resentful energy, Xiao Xingchen couldn’t lift his sword against the man. No matter how he fought, he couldn’t do it, even as the sound of Song Lan fighting alone picked up around the two of them. “Even though you thought you were such good friends, he said all those terrible things to you. You gave him your eyes and left him be, and yet he didn’t even try to thank you for it.” The more Xue Yang spoke, the more the anger and despair inside Xiao Xingchen grew. It built and built inside of him, overwhelming him, feeling almost like a fire consuming him from the inside out. “For all those years, was he trying to find you , or was he trying to find me? Which one of us did he approach first when he saw us together? He already knew about some of the things we did, so he had already seen—”
It was as if all of his senses cut at once, and no more of Xue Yang’s words reached Xiao Xingchen.
Sensations of the world slowly leaked back in on him. He could feel the ground underneath him as touch came first. It was soon followed by sound, as he came to recognize the wind whistling nearby. Smell was next, though faint, muted.
Xiao Xingchen felt as if he’d been in a situation like this before.
“Daozhang.”
The voice came from immediately to his left. The suddenness of it made his entire body jolt, and a moment later he gave a sharp cry as his memories flooded back in a second time. This time he couldn’t even lift his arms to try to shove Xue Yang away. His body felt so much heavier than before.
“I went through all that trouble of putting your soul back together, daozhang, and you nearly destroyed it even worse. You’re very lucky that I figured out how to fix it before, or it might have been lost forever this time.”
But that was what he wanted, he tried to say. He wanted, so very badly, to disappear and never wake up again. He didn’t even want to reincarnate. But his lips were no more cooperative than his arms had been, so the protests remained unsaid.
“I think the trouble is that I’m giving you too much freedom. I told you before not to be disobedient, daozhang. I know what I’m doing, and you just have to listen to me. Everything was fine when the two of us were getting along, right?”
Xue Yang slowly lifted up Xiao Xingchen’s upper body as he spoke, pulling him into a sitting position.
“So let’s keep getting along. Nothing has to be any different. I’m just going to stop you from doing anything that might ruin this for the two of us. That’s all.”
Suddenly Xiao Xingchen felt an immense pressure on his head, more intense than anything he could remember. Even the pain of losing his eyes seemed dull in comparison, as it slowly bore its way deeper inside. Bit by bit it felt like parts of his body were going numb, but all it did was accentuate the sensation. It was so overwhelming he could barely think over it, and it continued, ceaselessly and unending, even as Xue Yang’s hand made contact with his head and then pulled back.
“Those nails are the same type that Daozhang Song has,” but the words only barely registered in Xiao Xingchen’s mind over the explosive, numbing pain. “Now everything will be just fine, daozhang. There’s nothing more to worry about.”
He couldn’t keep track of how many weeks it had been since Xue Yang had put nails into his head. Every day that passed felt like the previous one, monotonous and unending. The tools seemed to take away even his ability to think.
“Daozhang, kill them.”
It wasn’t like the times before, where he could hold himself in place and wait until his body reacted on pure defensive instinct, or at worst he’d only proactively pursue one person. No, this time the words became his whole world, the only things that he could hold in his mind for more than a few seconds. And not just hold there: they burrowed their ways in and stayed there for far longer. Far too long.
In the beginning, he’d managed to slow it. Even when the words were so pervasive, so focused, he could hold himself back from them. But the more days passed, the harder it became. When the words of a master are all that a puppet can hear, how does its world not narrow to only that?
When his will had first faltered, the first time he rushed forward in active pursuit and drove his blade into a living human being, he’d tried to cry. By now, he no longer even tried to do that. It was simple and automatic. Daozhang, kill them echoed in his head as he felt body after body fall to the cruel bite of Shuanghua. He couldn’t think to do anything else.
He continued beside the corpse of his dear friend, cursed to share the same fate. As strong a team as the two of them had been in life, so were they in death: under Xue Yang’s control they slaughtered hundreds, thousands, civilians and cultivators alike as they slowly proceeded forwards towards some unknown goal. Always under the control of those needles. Obedient. Unresisting.
“Daozhang Song, that’s not enough!”
Xiao Xingchen couldn’t think to count how many times he’d heard those words by now.
“You’re still falling behind! Never mind the Ghost General, you can’t even keep up with your friend!”
There was the distinct sound of an impact. For a while, Xiao Xingchen hadn’t known what that sound meant, but after enough repetition he’d eventually realized.
“Fucking stupid, worthless cultivator!”
Xue Yang struck Song Lan again, but neither he nor Xiao Xingchen so much as flinched. And why would either of them react? They couldn’t think over the nails’ influence, and they couldn’t retaliate against the demonic cultivator controlling them. Xiao Xingchen couldn’t even consider what Song Lan might feel being hit like that. Like everything else, if it wasn’t an order, it wasn’t something he was allowed to dwell on.
The soft sound of footsteps on the ground, the lightness indicating a cultivator, entered Xiao Xingchen’s perception. Without a word he pulled forth Shuanghua and turned to point it at the newcomer, but all it took was Xue Yang snapping “Stop” and he froze in place obediently.
“Should you really be treating it like that? Isn’t it one of your precious weapons?”
The voice was familiar, but Xiao Xingchen couldn’t remember well enough to recall whose it might be.
“Fuck you!” Xue Yang shouted it, but when he spoke again, his voice was somewhat more restrained. “What do you want? Are you checking up on my work?”
By now the person had reached their group, strolling past Xiao Xingchen as if he were no more dangerous or consequential than a decorative statue.
“Not on your work. I know any task you set out to do will be completed to satisfaction. Rather, that scene just now was a rather unsightly one. Chengmei, are you perhaps overusing demonic cultivation?”
There was a pause before Xue Yang responded. “Of course not. I told you, I barely even need to use it anymore. The nails do most of the work for me, and these two mean I don’t have to fight. I’m not going to end up like Wei Wuxian.”
The other person gave a soft hum, acknowledging yet skeptical. “Then does that mean that you admit that your current actions and behaviors are entirely your own?”
“The fuck do you mean by that?” He gave a snap and Xiao Xingchen was suddenly freed from his pose, allowing him to sheathe his sword and turn back to face Xue Yang as if he were actually paying attention to the conversation rather than just unable to stop listening. “Of course my actions are my own. I’m not like either of them. What, are you gonna start giving me shit for something?”
“Chengmei,” there was a shift in tone, though Xiao Xingchen couldn’t think to consider what it would mean. “Are you happy?”
The silence that followed the question seemed to even cut through Xiao Xingchen’s hazy mind a little.
“You worked towards this for several years, and now you’re running about doing as you please. I’ve even warned you that you’re well beyond my ability to do anything for you right now, and you’re still acting like this. So while I can still talk to you like this, I’d like you to tell me: are you happy?”
“Fuck you.” The words were quiet, only audible over the din of white noise because they had come from his master. The next words, however, were almost impossible to miss. “Of course I’m happy! Why wouldn’t I be? It’s just as you said, it’s just as the great Lianfang-Zun says! I’ve been working for years, and now I’m doing as I please! Of course I’m happy!”
There was another hum. “I see. If that’s the case, I’m happy that you’re happy, Chengmei. May you continue to reap the fruits of your labors.”
“Daozhang, come on!”
At the urging, his feet moved forwards automatically. There was a basket in his hand, already weighed down with something or other that Xue Yang had already acquired. The quiet streets were even more quiet, and despite the steady stream of Xue Yang’s voice, it was as if nothing was being said at all. There wasn’t anything he was saying that Xiao Xingchen could respond to properly.
“—Right, daozhang?”
Silence met the words, as Xiao Xingchen simply continued to walk forwards.
“... I said, right , daozhang? Answer me.”
“Yes.”
The response came automatically, without thought. A reaction to the command, no different from one he’d give if he were ordered to slaughter another group of innocent people.
“Daozhang, stop.”
The words came from slightly behind him, Xue Yang having stopped walking to likely look at the vegetables at one stall or another. Xiao Xingchen stood obediently, hearing every word that Xue Yang was saying but not listening to a single one, because even as he filled the silence with snide commentary about the poor state of the goods, none of it was a command. None of it was something he needed to listen to.
“Turn towards me.”
He turned around immediately.
“Hold out the basket more. I can’t put these in there when you’re holding it like that.”
He held it out as instructed.
“Don’t drop any of them. Come on.”
He honed in on the sound of Xue Yang’s footsteps, and without a word, followed after them.
“You know, it’s been a while since you brought me any candy, daozhang. You should do it again.”
For some reason the words felt different. Even though there was a slight twinge, Xiao Xingchen continued forward without pause.
“I think you should do it again. If I tell you to get candy, would you be able to do that, daozhang? Would you be able to get some more?”
He didn’t have an answer to that. There was no answer to that. If Xue Yang told him to get candy, he would do it the moment it was clear how to do so. There would be no initiative taken to investigate on his own if someone was still selling sweets in one of the marketplaces. It was simple: if there was candy, he would get it. If he didn’t know about it, he wouldn’t.
Because he was only able to do the things he was told to do.
“Daozhang, tell me that you’ll get me more candy.”
“I’ll get you more candy.”
Xue Yang stopped walking.
Xiao Xingchen continued forward until Xue Yang grabbed his arm. He obeyed the implied command, stopping almost immediately.
“Daozhang, you aren’t the type to lie, right? If you tell me you’ll get me more candy, then you’ll do it, right? That’s the sort of person that daozhang is.” On Xiao Xingchen’s arm, the grip tightened. Right hand. Five fingers. “You’ll get me a piece every day like you used to, right? It’ll be just like how things were before. Everything was fine before.”
All the words were pointless, left unresponded to, because there were no orders given.
“Daozhang, answer me.”
“Yes.”
“You’ll get me more candy, right?... Answer me.”
“Yes.”
“Every day, you’ll get me a piece, right? Answer me.”
“Yes.”
“You’re not lying, right, daozhang?! Answer me!”
“Yes.”
The impact meant nothing when he was like this, so even as he felt Xue Yang’s fist collide with his face, Xiao Xingchen didn’t even flinch. The basket in his hands felt slightly lighter, and a moment later there was the sound of something small thudding on the ground.
“... Daozhang!”
There was no placing what emotion was in Xue Yang’s voice. Xiao Xingchen had long since lost his ability to think about things like that.
“Sit down.”
The floor of the coffin house was dirty, having been left mostly unattended while their little group had been out performing all manner of atrocities, but Xiao Xingchen lowered himself to the ground immediately.
“You said it yourself, daozhang. Every day you’ll get me a piece of candy, just like things were before.”
Xue Yang walked behind Xiao Xingchen. A moment later, the pressure inside his head stirred up, as he felt fingers disturbing the nails that had remained buried in his head for far longer than he could think on. He shuddered yet held still, and bit by bit, the pain that had become his whole existence receded. The rest of the world leaked back in on him, as he found himself able to take in his surroundings for the first time in so long. He could think about the dirty floor beneath him. He could hear the different sounds beyond simply being alert to threats. He needed no breath, but Xiao Xingchen tried to take a deep inhale anyway.
“... Daozhang.”
Without a thought as to whether or not he’d be allowed, in a single, fluid motion Xiao Xingchen unsheathed Shuanghua, spun around, and swung for Xue Yang’s neck.
