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Wen Ning didn’t burn, although that would have been the preferred outcome. He would have liked to die before they took JieJie away from him. Before they stuffed him in a coffin, chained him so heavily he’d have died if he’d had any air to need.
Before he could feel Wei-gongzi’s energy fill the air and his dizi stain Nevernight with more resentment than Wen Ruohan had ever hoped to control.
Before.
Wen Ning didn’t burn, because the Jins were greedy. Even if their actions eventually saved them all, he still wouldn’t forgive them.
Wen Chao had called him and Jie soft. They weren’t. Jie had learned too long ago how to cut her losses. The Dafan Wen, although healers, had always been ones for survival. They knew when to be ruthless. Jie had never been soft. She’d been scared, and that had hardened her heart to stone.
Wen Ning might have been soft at some point. Long, before the Dancing Goddess statue stole a part of his soul. But he hadn’t been soft when he saved Wei-gongzi, when he poisoned the Wens to save Jiang Wanyin. He hadn’t been a traitor either. Hard to be a traitor when your masters weren’t worthy of loyalty.
Wei-gongzi had been loyal, too loyal, and it got him killed. He had a big heart and ripped it apart for people he loved, letting his chest fill with blood and hiding his pain for the hope of a smile. Wei-gongzi had left his family for them, and Wen Ning would forever be loyal to him for it.
Wen Ning didn’t know how it happened, and, in retrospect, it didn’t matter. Maybe it was the resentment. Maybe it was the Stygian Tiger Seal, breaking within Nevernight, maybe it was Wei-gongzi’s death that stirred the souls abandoned. Maybe it was luck, or fate, or Wen Ning’s own despair that broke the chains of time.
Maybe it was nothing, nothing at all.
It didn’t matter, not when the outcome was the same.
~O~
Wen Ning could tell the difference between the past and the present by the air. The air of the past was lighter, both in resentment and in the weight of death that plagued it after the war. Of course, he could feel this only after crawling out of the blood pool and the Burial Mounds, who stretched their claws towards him like they missed him, but never dared to touch.
They also missed Wei-gongzi, despite him not having fallen yet.
Spirits, he learned, had little concept of time. Or at least the really strong, really powerful ones didn’t. Where time was a river and mortals were the fish, the spirits were the fishers who saw where the dam was, where the river split, and which fishes were the tastiest for dinner.
Wen Ning was not a fish, but a particularly shiny shell, still and the same as he had been the day he died. Wei-gongzi had been a rock with jagged edges the spirits had loved to smooth to perfection, chipping away the shards of his sanity with every day that passed.
Wei-gongzi should be okay now. If memory suited him correctly, this would be a little before the indoctrination camp, or right after. Yiling had always been his home, and he recognised and longed for faces that died before him.
It was too late to save Cloud Recesses – not that he would have tried. Wen Ning remembered well enough the white clothed figures that chanted for his death. No matter how good Hanguang-Jun had been to Wei-gongzi, his sect had still preached their rules and conveniently ignored them when it mattered the most. Yes, it was too late for Cloud Recess, but it wasn’t for Lotus Pier. It wasn’t too late to stop the war, to stop his family from dying. To keep himself alive.
I have to kill Wen Ruohan. The thought didn’t cause him any discomfort. If there was any filial piety for the man, he had lost his right to it when he condemned him and Jie to the life they had under his greed.
Qishan was close enough.
Not needing to eat, sleep and the ability to move with no human limits proved easier than it used to. The longing he once felt for lost luxuries now seemed trivial. Comfort mattered little when loved ones died. Wen Ning wished he could feel the wind and his own hair flicking in his face. He wished he could visit Jie, and Granny and all the people that were still alive right now.
But his living self was also alive, and he didn’t want to see what they’d do to him if they thought some spirit had stolen his face.
He got to Qishan, to the edges of Nevernight before it hit him. The pull. The numbness. The stillness in his limbs, like someone was looking to steal his will again, the same way death and the second flute did on Qiongqi path. The same way Xue Yang tried as he stabbed the needles into his head again and again until it worked.
The Yin Iron. If he could, Wen Ning would have gasped, would have sucked in a breath when the haze vanished with every step he took away from Nevernight. That was right, Wen Ruohan still had the Yin Iron, still had control over corpses. Wei-gongzi had yet to convince the spirits to turn against him, to learn to control it on his own.
I can’t kill Wen Ruohan. Not without being pulled into the army of the dead himself, not without losing what was left of his sanity.
The thought sent some vicious anger coursing through him, the same one he felt for every person who claimed to keep justice yet allowed his small village to die. But this time, it wasn’t directed at enemies, but at himself.
You were given a second chance, you were given the opportunity to stop this, but you can’t do it! they’re all going to die, they’ll die again they’ll…..
The resentment got louder, stronger, more invasive and Wen Ning thought back to Wei-gongzi trying to coax his mind out of their grasp.
Wait….
Wei-gongzi.
~O~
Lotus Pier had been Wei Ying’s home from the moment he had stepped in it. It had been a relief from pain, its lakes smooth and calming and the air fresh enough to breathe and relax himself after.
The tall, looming figure stinking of resentment was a new addition. He was in the middle of the yard, walking towards him, and no one could remember him coming in. Wei Ying stood up, chasing away the soreness in his bones and the lack of energy in his limbs and approached them.
He missed Suibian at his hip, even if he wouldn’t be able to use it right now, not with how weak he was, her presence would have been a blessing.
He stepped in front of the figure before they could approach the main building too much. Wei Ying discreetly signalled the other disciples to take the younglings away and prepare for battle. Uncle Jiang and Madam Yu were holding a meeting and Jiang Cheng was somewhere around there.
“Welcome to Lotus Pier. And your name is…..?”
“Wei-gongzi,” the man said in a raspy voice, completely ignoring his question. Wei Ying blinked and opened his mouth. “It’s so good to see you again.”
The man smiled, and his face twisted weirdly in the shadow of his hood. His skin seemed abnormally pale.
“I’m glad!” he said, trying to remember when he had last met this person. The man blinked and took off his hood.
“Wen Ning?” Wei Ying said, eyes tracing over the too pale skin, the black veins and the unnatural height of the man.
Wen Ning smiled. “Yes. Unfortunately, there’s a dire situation I need your help in.”
Before Wei Ying could open his mouth, the other disciples surrounded them. “Surrender, fierce corpse!” Fen Luo yelled, sword in the air. “Da-shixiong! get away from him!”
Wei Ying would have liked to fight, but he knew a disadvantage when he had one.
“Wei-gongzi, wait!” Wen Ning said, “I really need your help!”
Three disciples attacked at once.
Wen Ning swatted them away like flies.
“Don’t hurt them!” Wei Ying tried to reason when he saw darkness climb up the other’s eyes as resentful smoke filled the air. Chains rolled out of Wen Ning’s sleeves as he turned to face the other disciples.
“Wei Wuxian!” Jiang Cheng yelled.
What followed was confusing at best, and too fast to notice at worst. The chains rang in the air, the dark clothed man whirled and the Jiang Heir got slammed into the building.
“I’ll help!” Wei Ying latched onto Wen Ning’s dominant hand, trying to pull him away. His fingers dug into hard skin and his head dizzied from the resentment his now weak core couldn’t cleanse.
Wen Ning blinked, eyes clearing. He looked at his arm and then at the teen attached to it..
A smile broke the too rigid face. “Okay!”
Later, Wei Ying would get to ponder about how the way he was carried was surprisingly gentle, about how the other cradled him more like a child, about how Wen Ning’s robes were more cushion-y than they should have been.
But at the moment, he didn’t notice anything but the speed they left Lotus Pier.
~O~
Jiang Cheng was not panicking. He wasn’t. Father wasn’t, mother wasn’t, so he surely wasn’t either. He was just… frustrated. And maybe a little disgruntled. And maybe a little stressed because his brother just got kidnapped by a surprisingly sentient fierce corpse that looked vaguely familiar, but that was fine.
It was fine.
Wei Wuxian would be fine.
The other disciples were panicking though, and Jiang Cheng would have to remind them to be calm in situations of crises. When Wei Wuxian returned and he could laugh along with him and assure the kids that he wasn’t actually mad at them. Yes, that was a plan, it was a good plan.
“The Wen!” His mother spit. “How dare they, how dare….”
“To send a sentient corpse in broad daylight…” his father mused, rubbing his chin. “It’s certainly unusual.” His eyes narrowed. “There wasn’t need for a war declaration, not after Cloud Recesses…”
“Why take A-Xian?” A-jie said, and yes, why was she the only one who seemed focused on the fact that their brother was kidnapped?
“Doesn’t really matter.” Mother waved her off and Jiang Cheng felt his heart get smaller by the second. It wasn’t surprising, his mother held no love for Wei Wuxian, but…
“Father?” he tried.
Jiang Fengmian shook his head and gave him a sympathetic smile. A smile that brought no comfort whatsoever. “I’m sure A-Xian will be fine. But if it really was the Wen Sect who took him…”
“It was Wen Ning, definitely,” Feng Lan said. “I recognise him from Gusu.”
The name clicked in Jiang Cheng’s brain, a pale, shy face hiding behind his stern, pretty sister. He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. “Wei Wuxian spoke fondly of him.”
“That’s what he gets for it,” mother scoffed before turning towards the remaining disciples. “Put up protections! talismans, wards, guards to keep anyone we don’t know or trust for coming through.” She turned towards Father. “This is all but a war declaration. And we shall not fall.”
“What about A-Xian?!” A-Jie tried to keep calm, not to cry, but she was shaking already, hand gripping the hilt of her sword, like it might give her courage to lift it.
“If he makes it, then we’ll let him back in,” mother said and stomped out of the yard, Yinzhu and Jinzhu behind her.
She’s not gonna let us go after him. Jiang Cheng whipped towards his father. “A-die…?”
“I’m sorry, Jiang Cheng,” the man sighed. “If war is coming, we can’t spare anyone on rescue missions.”
~O~
The Burial Mounds. He was in the Burial Mounds. Wen Ning’s corpse had kidnapped him to the Burial Mounds.
“This is… this is madness!” he tried to argue as the resentment curled around them both. There were cold, slimy hands trailing all along his spine and up his arms, whispers he didn’t want to listen to who tempted him to power he never asked for.
Wen Ning’s corpse was very blasé about it. “Don’t worry, Wei-gongzi.” He smiled, his mouth muscles strained by the effort. Wei Ying liked Wen Ning. Wei Ying wasn’t usually one to panic over things, he was always the one to stay calm and push the others towards reason.
Wei Ying wanted to either punch Wen Ning or cry. And since the other had already proven to be impervious to any and all pain, there seemed to be only one choice in sight.
“Let me gooooo!” he whined, and it wasn’t as fake as he would have liked. Wen Ning’s features softened a little and he took a step forward.
“I’m not keeping you prisoner, Wei-gongzi,” he whispered in a soft voice and strong arms pulled Wei Ying into a really cold, really stiff embrace. Since the alternative was the bone filled dirt under his feet, Wei Ying didn’t pull back. “I’d go as far as to say you’re free to leave, but Yiling is not the safest place right now.”
“I grew up in here,” Wei Ying mumbled.
“I know,” Wen Ning said, still keeping his embrace and rocking him softly. Like he was a child. Wei Ying felt like a child. “But Wen Ruohan’s soldiers aren’t exactly trustworthy and I don’t want to put more scrutiny on young me and A-Jie right now.” Wen Ning buried his nose into Wei Ying’s hair, and Wei Ying had the feeling that he’d be sniffing it if he could. “I don’t want to force you to do anything, but if you don’t, everyone you love will eventually die.”
“How… why?”
Wen Ning looked away. “You need to learn to control resentment and take the Yin Iron from Wen Ruohan. Last time…” he stopped, and, had he been alive, this would be the place for a breath. “Last time, you lost your core and suffered a lot here. This time, I’ll make sure you won’t suffer.”
He pulled back and smiled.
“I can’t live in here,” Wei Ying said.
“Yes you can.” Wen Ning smiled and pushed him into the dark, looming cave at the edge of the cursed forest. Inside, there was a roughly made bed, a few pots, an improvised hearth and a lot of papers. Trinkets and blankets meant to make the place look more homely were scattered everywhere, and the whole place looked comfy in a cursed way.
“How am I supposed to master resentment?” he asked helplessly.
Wen Ning smiled. “I’m sure you can do it.”
~O~
It must be noted that Jiang Cheng wasn’t stupid. His plans worked, he was smart and resourceful. He could spot a stupid plan.
Thing is, most chaotic plans usually came from Wei Wuxian, and, as such, Jiang Cheng’s job had mainly been to find a way to stop things from going too far.
When he made plans on his own… they weren’t bad. They just needed more time to be finetuned. And preferably more manpower, vast, important resources Jiang Cheng didn’t possess at the moment.
Which was the reason he was currently in Yiling, in his Yunmeng Jiang robes, with Wen soldiers eyeing him with hostility and civilians with wariness. But it was fine. It was fine, it would be fine.
He walked to the closest teahouse, because it was better than doing nothing, and asked for Wen Qing. Wen Ning was her brother, so she ought to know if he kidnapped his brother. Or at least he could see for himself if they were hiding him anywhere.
The fact that Wei Wuxian might be in Nevernight did not cross his mind. No, it didn’t even enter his mind, Jiang Cheng slamming all the possible doors as hard as necessary for the thought not to enter. He was resourceful like that.
He pulled himself to the farthest and darkest corner of the teahouse, ordering something he didn’t really pay attention to before succumbing into thought.
He needed a plan. A better plan than simply strolling up to Wen Qing’s house and demanding his brother. Mostly because he didn’t know if Wei Wuxian was still there, and secondly, because he didn’t know if she’d be willing to give him up. The fact that Wei Wuxian hadn’t escaped yet must mean that he was incapacitated somehow. For someone to incapacitate the complete prodigy that was Wei Wuxian, they must be either very strong or very cunning, and Jiang Cheng, at the moment, with no men nor resources, happened to be neither.
He took a sip of the scalding tea and glared at the servant before he tried to offer him something else.
Some Wen soldiers walked in and Jiang Cheng pulled himself more into the shadows of the curtains and leaned in to listen.
“We should send someone to look for Wen Qiao.” one of them said.
“We can’t risk it,” said the one who looked older, “The Burial Mounds have been acting up lately, we can’t afford to lose more men.”
“But it could get worse!” one of them hissed, “I know nothing can walk out of the Burial Mounds, but what if it could? We should at least check…”
“No,” the leader growled, “Our job here is to protect Wen-Guniang and nothing more.”
They got up and Jiang Cheng followed.
~O~
Wen Ning was a peaceful person. He didn’t pick fights. He didn’t make enemies. Yes, people, especially his cousin, often picked on him, but he never went out of his way to do so.
So, suffice to say, someone gagging him and pulling him in an alleyway was weirder than usual.
Now, Wen Ning was quiet, and meek, but he wasn’t exactly weak. So, when attacked, all the cultivation training Wen Chao made fun of him for kicked in and he found himself pinning his opponent to the wall.
The dagger poking in his stomach was unpleasant, but what can one do?
“Jiang-gongzi?” he asked as he recognised the teen. The Jiang Heir gritted his teeth and twisted them, pushing him into the wall.
“Where is my brother?”
“Wei-gongzi?” Wen Ning frowned. “I don’t know.”
“You kidnapped him!” Jiang Wanyin yelled.
“I didn’t?” Wen Ning didn’t like the question in his tone, but Jiang Wanyin had said it with such conviction, Wen Ning had to wonder if that week’s batch of meat had been heavier than usual, if a lithe young master could have sneaked in.
Jiang Wanyin narrowed his eyes and Wen Ning felt the sharp point of the dagger in his belly.
“But!” he said quickly, “I can help you look for him? How is he? Has he healed?”
“Yes.” Jiang Wanyin narrowed his eyes and dragged him deeper into the shadows. “Now how can you help me?”
~O~
Wen Ning was missing for three days when Wen Qing got her unexpected visitors. The woman took one look at Jiang Yanli and Lan Wangji and decided it was too much to deal with.
“I don’t know where your brothers are.” she said, for what felt like the thousandth time.
“But your brother kidnapped A-Xian and A-Cheng came to find him!” Jiang Yanli said.
“Mn.” Lan Wangji offered emotional support.
“Look, Lady Jiang.” Wen Qing rubbed her forehead, “I don’t know who you saw, but my little brother didn’t kidnap anyone.”
“Where is he then?” Lan Wangji asked, not being helpful in the slightest.
Wen Qing sighed. “I don’t know. He disappeared three days ago.”
“A-Cheng and A-Xian disappeared a week ago,” Lady Jiang said and Wen Qing shook her head.
Lan Wangji seemed to be thinking. “Have there been scouts looking?”
“Yes.”
“Ask them if they saw Jiang Wanyin. He’d be more recognisable than your brother.”
Wen Qing didn’t like it, but she guessed he did have a point. People were used to A-Ning walking around, and purple was much more noticeable in a sea of red. She seated the two in the guest room while she asked for her scouts.
Tea was decidedly awkward, for Lan Wangji wasn’t one for conversation and Jiang Yanli was too worried. The two had met on the way, him looking for his brother and her looking for both of hers, and they both decided on Yiling for lack of a better alternative.
The tea was chamomile, with a hint of honey, and it was decidedly the most interesting conversation topic so far.
It all ended when a soldier walked in carrying terrible news.
“People saw the young master in purple head for the Burial Mounds.”
~O~
If asked, Wen Ning wouldn’t know to say which one was weirder. To see his own body as a fierce corpse serving them tea and chilly rice, or the fact that the table was made of a desecrated gravestone he had taken from somewhere around.
The Burial Mounds.
They were in the Burial Mounds. They were on a corpse mountain, in a cave, sitting on their folded outer robes in lieu of pillows because there were none. Wei-gongzi sat across from them, looking exhausted and barely aware of the corpse arranging a blanket over his shoulder.
“Has he been torturing you?” Jiang Wanyin asked, barely looking at the tea. He had decided to accept the time travel explanation quite readily if it meant he could give up confusion to the much safer emotion of anger. Wen Ning was much more reticent, but also had the impression that the only reason the Jiang heir didn’t throw the cup at the corpse was in fear of retaliation.
The corpse – his corpse – glared at the Jiang Heir with what was pure, unadulterated hatred. Jiang Wanyin pulled back a little, and even Wen Ning felt like cowering. Which was weird, why had no-one ever deemed it important to tell him that he could be intimidating?
“It’s ok, A-Ning.”Wei-gongzi smiled, tired but genuine, and Wen Ning felt jealousy. At himself.
This had been a weird couple of days.
Young master Wei turned towards his brother, the smile brighter and faker this time, tiredness peeking through. “It’s… it’s been okay, A-Cheng.” He looked into his tea. “There’s war coming, and A-Ning here thinks I might figure out a way to stop it.”
Wen Ning didn’t know what to say to that. Not when it was his own uncle who was going to start the war, not when he was supposed to support him.
“Everyone will die,” Corpse Him spoke, “And not in the war, not all of us. Many will die later, not to sword, but to politics.” He looked up. “Wei-gongzi can stop it, he just needs to develop Demonic Cultivation.”
“A-Ning, I told you,” Wei Wuxian said, voice tired as he pulled the blanket a little closer to him. He seemed to have lost weight since the indoctrination, but Wen Ning wouldn’t blame him. All the food in the world would be difficult to eat when you were surrounded by decay. “I don’t know if I can invent a whole new cultivation art.”
“You can,” Corpse Him said with undying conviction. “You did it the first time under torture. This time I’ll protect you, and no one will have to die.”
Wei Wuxian nodded dumbly and focused back into the tea. His eyes were drooping a little, so Corpse Him laid him on his side and the teen was asleep in a second.
The other two were ushered out a second later.
~O~
Lan Zhan was usually really good at keeping track of things. He was very observant. Precise. Didn’t make mistakes.
So the fact that he didn’t remember how exactly they’d gotten from the bottom of the mountain inside the Burial Mounds was something that irked him to no end.
Wen Qing was also sceptical, shoulders tense with suspicion.
Jiang Yanli was plagued by no such worries, not when she seemed content with squeezing the life out of her two brothers.
“You’re all right!” She cried and they comforted her.
“We are, Jie,” Jiang Wanyin said and Wei Ying nodded into her shoulder. “We have to get out of here.”
“We can’t, I’m not done yet!” Wei Ying whined and Jiang Wanyin flicked his shoulder.
“You believe him!”
“You’re free to leave,” came the cold, lifeless voice of Wen Qionglin. Lan Wangji turned around to see….. two of them.
No, he wasn’t seeing double, one was taller, paler and a lot more dead looking than the child faced teen to his side.
“A-Ning?!” Wen Qing asked, her composure breaking for the first time since he met her.
“JieJie,” the two Wen Nings said at the same time, looking bashfully away, much as if they’d practiced it.
“What’s going on?” He spoke for the first time.
It was Wei Ying who spoke. “Time travel is a thing,” before turning heel and walking into a cave.
~O~
Wen Ning hadn’t expected he’d have to cook for so many people, and realised that the supplies would need to be restocked soon. None of the teens seemed all that content on leaving the cursed corpse mountain, which would really prove an impediment if they wanted to convince Wei-gongzi to leave.
He didn’t anticipate people finding them. No one went to the Burial Mounds. Until Wei-gongzi had gotten there and done the impossible, no one had dared speak the name without a healthy dose of fear to it.
And now they were there, wasting daylight and giving the sect leaders heart attacks.
Wen Ning didn’t like this. Not at all. He could understand why Jie and his living self were there: they needed to know how he died, how the war would go, why they’d get exterminated. He understood that.
He didn’t like the Jiang being there. They still called themselves Wei-gongzi’s siblings, despite how the war would turn them against him. Wen Ning had never spoken up back then, for Wei-gongzi had so little sources of joy and he hadn’t wanted to strip more away, but he wouldn’t forget their passiveness.
He wouldn’t forgive Jiang Yanli for marrying into the clan that wanted to kill her brother and not pulling any leverage to stop it. He wouldn’t forgive Jiang Wanyin for staying put and letting them starve when he had the resources to help them. When he stood and listened to the Clans calling them murderers and plotting their deaths and allowing them to believe it.
He wouldn’t forgive the Jiang parents for the many scars on Wei-gongzi’s body and his inability to believe that he was worth anything as his own person and not a tool to be used. For making him set himself on fire to keep the others warm and making it seem necessary.
Lan Wangji was someone Wen Ning couldn’t say he had an opinion on. He wouldn’t bother him, if only because he was proactive enough to play his guqin when Wei Wuxian was working and making everything easier in general.
There was an excited yelp, the sound of shuffled papers and then Wei Wuxian rushed out of the cave with a big smile on his face. “I did it! I did it!”
“You’re done already?!” Wen Ning sprang to his feet like there was still blood in them to do so. “You figured out demonic cultivation?”
“Not quite,” Wei Wuxian shook his head and lifted a talisman. “But I did figure out a way to surpass the Yin Iron control over you.”
That…. that changed things. That meant Wen Ning now could solve things on his own, without relying on Young Master Wei for it.
“How?”
“Well, this,” e lifted the talisman, “cuts off external influences from resentment.”
“Wei-gongzi….. I run on resentment.”
“On your own resentment.” Wei Wuxian had that half crazed look on his face that stopped him from eating or drinking while he was thinking. “You’ll still be able to do what you normally do, but the outside resentment won’t run much interference.”
Wen Ning took the talisman and slapped it to his chest.
Instantly, the Burial Mounds’ oppressive aura lost power. Wen Ning couldn’t breathe, not since the Jin soldiers slammed that flag through his spine, but this was the closest thing to that.
“Thank you,” he bowed to Wei Wuxian. To the other teens he ordered, “Don’t leave.” before turning back and running.
~O~
Wen Ruohan fell much quicker than Jin Zixuan had. It was weird how much intent could change the degree in which one’s chest was pierced.
The Yin Iron was spitting and twirling around the remaining corpses, but Wen Ning didn’t care, not when he was stronger than most of them.
Wen Ruohan had counted on numbers, not skill. That worked against fragile, fallable humans, but not against the Ghost General.
Next in line is Wen Xu, Wen Ning pondered. Not a great choice, he enjoyed war just as much as his father. Wen Chao was an even worse candidate.
Wen Ning started counting on his fingers the number of relatives before his sister.
In his first life, or life at all, he would have hesitated. He would have been appalled at the thought, he’d have had to ponder over it.
In this life, the thought barely crossed his mind. It wasn’t even about whether he liked his cousins or not. If there was one thing death had taught him, it was that blood and promises meant nothing, and loyalty was rarely returned. What mattered, what had always mattered, was his family and the people he considered dear. Wen Ning would have burned down the Cultivation word to keep them safe.
Wen Qing had always insisted they were healers, that they didn’t kill people. Every throat she’d ever slashed had been a mercy kill.
Wen Ning had always loved that about her. He’d admired her, her resolve and her morals, the same he saw in Wei-gongzi.
Wen Ning was a weapon. His agency didn’t change that. He’d been carved by cruelty, and he’d burn down the world for the people he loved.
So he did.
~O~
Qishan Wen didn’t look different but it felt different. Jiang Cheng kept looking around, expecting the shadows to morph and stab him, but they didn’t.
Wei Wuxian walked with a spring in his step, and, for the first time, Mother didn’t scold him for it.
It was hard to scold him when he was the reason they were alive.
Jiang Cheng hadn’t seen the way Dead Wen Ning negotiated with his parents to support Wen Qing’s rise as the Qishan Wen leader, but he would have liked to. He would have loved to see what had convinced his mother to back down and allow the threats.
What convinced her to stop punishing Wei Wuxian for merely existing in her general vicinity.
It was the first Discussion Conference since Wen Ruohan’s death, and everyone was on edge. Everyone but Wei Wuxian, of course, who had been told, in no uncertain terms, that he was welcome to leave the Jiang and join the Wen if he so desired. Wei Wuxian had refused and corpse Wen Ning had frowned but hadn’t argued.
Jiang Cheng had been relieved and scolded himself a second after. Wei Wuxian was his brother, he wouldn’t just leave them.
But then he remembered Lan Wangji’s longing stares, the way the new sect leaders flocked around the previous son of a servant with poorly veiled bribes. He remembered the ease with which Wei Wuxian had bonded with the Wens in the Burial Mound and the way he flinched any time his mother stepped into his view.
His brother wouldn’t betray them, but betrayal was based on loyalty. Wei Wuxian was loyal to them, Jiang Cheng never doubted that.
But Jiang Cheng also looked at all the options his brother now had, all the ways he could leave and not be stranded.
And Jiang Cheng dreaded.