Chapter Text
Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji didn’t mean to get entangled in a night hunt. This trip was supposed to be just for fun. And it had been, for the most part. They had both enjoyed the hot springs high in the mountains, even though it might have been more fun in the winter. Lan Zhan made them stop and meditate in every temple they passed, while Wei Wuxian never turned down a chance to drink and chat in every inn. Lan Zhan liked the quiet barren desert; Wei Wuxian thought it was boring. But after a full summer of adventure, they both agreed it was time to turn back home.
They were approaching the land they knew from the north, after an arduous mountain crossing that marked the borders of the Jin Clan territory, and found a small village where they could stay in the lowlands below. The buildings were humble but the streets brightly decorated, and the surrounding farmland was extensive. With some inquiry, Wei Wuxian learned that the place was called Eagle’s Rest, as they often housed travelers who came over the mountains. Jinlintai was another three days’ journey by foot to the south.
The village only had one inn, so that was where they went. Wei Wuxian took Li’l Apple into the stable to the side while Lan Zhan went in to get a room. It was dusty and poorly lit, but he found a hay bale, grooming kit, and barrel of water after some poking around. There didn’t appear to be any stable hands available, not unusual for a place this small. He took care of the donkey and returned to the room to find Lan Zhan.
It wasn’t quite the dingiest place they’d stayed, but short of sleeping outside or crashing in someone’s barn, this room was on the shoddier end. All it had was a humble bed that would barely fit the two of them, and a low table with simple straw mats to kneel on. Dust was visible in the corners. Lan Zhan was already sitting at the table, eyes closed.
“You don’t like this place,” Wei Wuxian commented. He could tell from the slight tension in Lan Zhan’s hands and the way he’d gathered his sleeves into his lap so they wouldn’t touch the dusty floor.
Lan Zhan acknowledged his comment with a slight tilt to his head.
“We could sleep outside if you want,” he said. “It’s certainly warm enough.”
“This will do,” said Lan Zhan simply.
“Are you just saying that because you’re tired of my cooking?”
Lan Zhan raised an eyebrow slightly.
“Lan Zhan! You’re so mean to me.” Wei Wuxian scowled. He turned to the open doorway to make a dramatic exit. “I’m going to go drink downstairs since you don’t-”
Something smacked into his waist, and there was a loud crash. “Ow! Hot!” He jumped back at the sudden shock of steaming hot liquid on his knees. Before him stood a small girl holding a wooden tray. On the floor between them was a rapidly spreading puddle and the shattered remains of a teapot and cups.
The girl’s face was white as a sheet. Her eyes were huge, staring at the mess. Her lips moved soundlessly for a moment. Then she threw herself on the floor at his feet.
“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry-” she whispered over and over.
“Hey! Stop that.” Wei Wuxian crouched down to lift her up by the shoulders. “It’s my fault. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
Tears dripped down her cheeks. Wei Wuxian couldn’t guess how old she was - he was terrible at that - but she was smaller than he would have expected any servant to be. Her hair was tied up in a loose bun with strands flying loose everywhere. She wore a cream-colored and tattered dress, a little too short for her. The girl trembled like a winter leaf under his hands. He reached out to wipe away her tears with his sleeve, but she flinched away violently, covering her face with her hands.
“Hey,” he said again, more gently. “It’s okay. We’ll help clean up. I’ll tell the innkeeper what happened and pay for it. Lan Zhan, tell her it’s okay.”
“It will be all right,” said Lan Zhan in his most calming voice. He had gotten up at the noise and stood behind Wei Wuxian like a sturdy pillar.
“C’mon. What’s your name?” He nudged her shoulder, gently this time.
She sniffled and wiped her face. “Li Ming.”
“My name is Wei Wuxian. This is Lan Wangji - he goes by Hanguang-Jun. How old are you, A-Ming?”
“Seven,” she muttered in a faint voice.
“I’ll go talk to the innkeeper right now, so you just find some rags to clean up. Got it?”
The girl bit her lip and nodded stoically. She scrambled to her feet and ran off.
The innkeeper was not pleased at the news. He was a harried-looking young man whose beard was reminiscent of the brief period where Jiang Cheng tried to grow facial hair and failed miserably. “You must excuse my foolish niece,” he said, bitterness in his voice. “If she’s damaged anything of your belongings-”
“Not at all!” Wei Wuxian protested. “I’m the one who broke something of yours. It’s entirely my fault, so accept this payment.” He handed over enough silver to pay for a new teapot of the highest quality, not the rough clay one he’d broken.
The innkeeper raised an eyebrow. “You’re very generous, sir.” He seemed to be mollified. “Is there anything else we can do to make your stay more comfortable?
“We’re okay, thanks,” he said, though their room could use a good dusting and he wasn’t sure the sheets were cleaned. If that tiny kid was the one who would have to deal with it, he wasn’t going to make any more work for her. “We’ll be back down for dinner.”
He found Lan Zhan and the girl kneeling on the floor, sopping up spilled tea with rags and a bucket. Lan Zhan had carefully pinned up his long white sleeves to keep them out of the way. Wei Wuxian grinned to see Hanguang-Jun with his elegant hairpiece and tassels scrubbing the floor next to a servant girl, looking just as peaceful and natural as if he were playing his guqin at home.
“Miss Li. Be careful,” Lan Zhan warned as A-Ming swept up some pottery shards with her hands. Sure enough, she gasped in pain and jerked away, clutching her finger. Lan Zhan took her hand and inspected the cut. It was tiny, and hardly bleeding, but with all the delicate care in the world he opened his pouch, sprinkled some medicine on it, and wrapped it in a thin strip of bandages, tied with a neat knot. Meanwhile, Wei Wuxian gathered up the pointy shards in a rag and dropped them into the bucket.
“Better,” said Lan Zhan, carefully returning the girl her hand. He patted her head once. She blushed, but didn’t flinch for him . Wei Wuxian crossed his arms, but he couldn’t really be mad, not when Lan Zhan had that tender look on his face. The one with the softness around his eyes and the gentle upturn of his lips. So damn sweet.
“Thank you, Hanguang-Jun,” A-Ming whispered. She stood and bowed and scurried away with her bucket.
“Lan Zhan.”
“Wei Ying.”
Wei Wuxian knelt in front of him, cupped his cheek in his hand, and kissed him. “You’re such a softie,” he grumbled. “Stop it. It’s irresistible.”
Lan Zhan tilted his head. “I will not.”
“Then I guess I just have to kiss you some more.”
“Hmm.” Lan Zhan tilted his head up and made no effort to stop him.
A-Ming was their server at dinner, which was dumpling soup. She set down their bowls and offered them a flighty smile before darting away. The kitchen was just behind a wall with a short curtain, behind which a skinny but heavily pregnant woman labored over the pot with a fixed scowl. The innkeeper sat at a table with a few other younger men, while the other locals who came in were older. The older gentlemen were friendly and demanded gossip from foreign parts. They had all heard tales of what was over the mountains, but only one of them had ever made that journey. “Back when I went there,” he kept saying, describing all the ways his experience was different twenty years ago. It was only a little tiresome.
“You and your partner are cultivators, aren’t you?” asked one of the men.
“We are,” he replied warily, afraid whatever came next would be something he didn’t want to hear.
“Are you here to solve the wild dog problem?”
“W-wild dog?” He swallowed and looked away. “Ah, I was kidding. We’re not cultivators. I don’t even have a sword, haha!” He hesitated. Maybe he should get more information before they started traveling again tomorrow. “What... wild dog problem?”
“Maybe it’s a wild dog, or a pack of wolves, maybe it’s a bear - whatever it is, there’s some large monster out and about, leaving huge dog-like tracks. Travelers coming through the mountains are found mauled and half-eaten. But now even farmers from our village are disappearing.”
“Hmm. Isn’t this the Jin Clan’s jurisdiction? Have you sent for help?”
“We put out a message, but it took two weeks before anyone came. Out here, you can’t rely on the people over in Jinlintai,” the oldest said with some scorn, while the others nodded. “They sent one cultivator. What was his name… Jin Guowei, I think. But we haven’t seen him in a while.”
“When did the problem begin?” Lan Zhan asked.
They all interrupted each other to share their stories. “It all started this spring when Farmer Feng’s goats started disappearing-”
“No, no, that just because his neighbor was stealing, remember? The first time a person went missing and was found half-eaten was only a month ago.”
They confirmed that the tracks were dog-like and were the size of a man’s hand, or possibly the size of a dinner plate depending on who you asked. The people who disappeared were just travelers at first, so no one knew to look for them and their bodies were discovered long after they’d been killed. But two farmers had lost family members who went foraging into the woods. All attempts to trap it had failed. Now no one went anywhere alone or went out at night, and it was disrupting the flow of fresh food into the village.
“After a whole month that Jin Guowei went to handle it-” said one old man.
“But he’s clearly not up to the challenge,” scoffed another one. “Barely even looked like a cultivator, did he? Skinny, disheveled, grumpy sort. I don’t know if he could even wield that sword he was carrying.”
“You two look capable,” said the old man. “I’ve seen some cultivators in my day, and I can tell you’re very powerful. Will you help us?”
Wei Wuxian sighed. “Are you sure this is a cultivator’s problem? We deal with spirits, not wild animals, you know.”
“We will take care of it,” said Lan Zhan.
The men thanked him profusely and called for A-Ming to bring them a carafe of liquor. Wei Wuxian caught her arm before she could scurry off. “Hey, A-Ming, have you seen the wild dogs everyone’s talking about?”
“I, I…” She looked away. “My friend went missing.”
“Your friend?” He frowned. “What happened?”
“I’m not allowed to talk to…” her voice dropped lower, and she glanced over her shoulder, towards the table with the younger men where her uncle sat.
He let her go. “Bring us a bottle of liquor to our room later, okay, then you can tell us.”
She nodded and ran away.
Wei Wuxian turned to the older men at the table next to them. “What’s up with the server here? She’s a bit small, isn’t she?”
“Oh, that’s just A-Ming,” they said. “She’s the innkeeper’s niece. He took her in when her mother died.”
“Oh?” Wei Wuxian frowned, watching the girl’s feet move behind the curtain in the kitchen. The woman at the cooktop said something in a quiet snarl, and A-Ming ducked backwards. “Grandfather, you’re very astute as to what’s happening in this town. Do you know what happened to her?”
The oldest gentleman took a drink and started his story. “Li Bao is originally from Lanling, but he inherited this inn from his maternal grandparents. He was born from his father’s second marriage. His sister Li Dongmei is a few years older than him, and she didn’t have any other family. She got pregnant out of wedlock when she was fifteen and their parents kicked her out. So she left and made a living in a backwater town that got wiped out from flooding a few years later. She wrote to her brother, but his grandparents wouldn’t allow her to shelter here, so she spent a few more years living in the streets of Lanling City. Making a living as women know how.” He gave a very unnecessary wink. “She got pregnant again, and this time when she came to her brother for help, his grandparents had already passed away and couldn’t stop him from giving her shelter. Soon after, though, she died in childbirth, and so did the baby.” The old man took a deep drink, very serious. “So A-Ming has spent the last two years here with her uncle, and recently his new wife.”
“I see.” Wei Wuxian cast a glance over to the other table. The uncle was well into his cups. He shouted for his niece, and A-Ming came scurrying out of the kitchen with another bottle. She had spent at least twice as much time at their table as she had the other two. “She works hard, doesn’t she?”
“It’s a family business, so everyone has to help out,” said the old man.
The others nodded. “She's lucky he took her in, after her mother was disowned and everything,” said one. “If Li Bao hadn’t been so generous, she would still be on the streets of Lanling.”
“No one here has much to spare. It’s good for her to learn to work hard; she’ll need to earn her keep.”
“That’s right! Orphans like her should be grateful for anything they can get."
Wei Wuxian couldn’t respond. His hand tightened on his cup and he stared at the table. He was fond of these strong rural liquors, but its taste was suddenly sour in his mouth.
Lan Zhan laid a hand on his arm. “Thank you for the information,” he said. “We will take our leave now.”
The gentlemen chuckled at his manners, which were refined beyond belief in these parts. Lan Zhan stood and guided Wei Wuxian back upstairs to their room.
“Wei Ying?” he asked.
“I’m fine.” Wei Wuxian let out a breath and put aside whatever strange feeling was gnawing at him. “What do you think about the wild dogs?”
Lan Zhan assessed him for a moment before moving on. He sat at the table. “I will investigate.”
“Without me ?”
Lan Zhan gave him a Look.
“I know, I know,” he grumbled. “But - it might not be a dog. Maybe it’s a bear. I can do bears. I’ll come! I won’t get in the way, I promise!” He held up his hand in a salute.
Lan Zhan looked away politely, clearly refraining from rolling his eyes.
“It sounds like they’re too big to be dogs, anyway,” Wei Wuxian said. “And wolves don’t go after humans like that. I’m thinking we’ve got some sort of cursed beast on our hands.”
“Mm.” Lan Zhan nodded.
“Maybe they ate someone's body who was full of resentful energy?" He scowled at Lan Zhan's skeptical expression. "I'm just guessing here. Do you have anything?"
"Someone might be controlling them."
"Maybe." He pulled out his flute and spun it around idly. "But the attacks don't seem to be targeted."
Lan Zhan reached for their saddlebags, and he and Wei Wuxian spent a while preparing talismans and traps for any situation while they mused over the possibilities.
It had been dark for a while when there was a quiet knock at the door. A-Ming entered, holding a jar very carefully in both hands. She held her breath as she slowly walked to the table, and looked visibly relieved when she set it down without breaking anything.
“Nicely done!” Wei Wuxian beamed at her. Since she had brought two cups, he filled them both and held one out to her. “Want some?”
“Wei Ying!”
He laughed. Getting a rise out of Lan Zhan was the whole point. “Kidding, kidding. Sit down, tell us about your friend who went missing.”
A-Ming blinked in confusion at the cup he’d offered. She didn’t sit, though she looked like she needed to; her eyes were tired and she smelled of dish soap and ash. “Shang-gege went away a week ago,” she began, and faltered, unsure how to continue.
“Did he tell you he was leaving?”
“No.” She twirled her hands in her skirt as she talked. “He doesn’t talk much. He comes every night to get the food I leave out. Jiujiu says I’m not allowed to give him leftovers even when we have enough, but I figured out where to hide it so he wouldn’t know.” She paused. “Are you going to tell Jiujiu?”
“No, no way, we’re not snitches.” Wei Wuxian smiled at her, trying to get her to relax. “So A-Shang is an orphan?”
She nodded. “He doesn’t have a home or a family. He sleeps in the stable sometimes when it’s cold.”
“What happened the last time you saw him?”
“I… left out some rice that was all cold. I didn’t see him take it but it was gone the next morning. Then the night after that… Jiujiu did the dishes. He never does the dishes. But he made me stay inside the rest of the night so I didn’t get to leave any food out.”
“And then Shang-gege was gone?”
A-Ming nodded.
“Were there any unusual guests at the inn?” Lan Zhan asked.
“Umm… the cultivator was staying here, I think.”
“And when he left, was that around the same time you last saw your friend?” Wei Wuxian leaned in over the table.
A-Ming nodded again.
“Were there any signs of the monsters in town, any noises, footprints?”
“No, I didn’t hear about that.”
He trusted that A-Ming would know with all the time she spent serving those gossipy uncles. When he looked at Lan Zhan, he could tell they were following the same train of thought. It didn’t sound like A-Shang had been eaten by a wild animal, but his disappearance was very suspicious.
“Wei-shushu?” A-Ming asked. “Are you going to hunt the monsters?”
“Yeah, we are.” He rested an elbow on Lan Zhan’s shoulder. “We’re cultivators, it’s what we do. Even on our honeymoon, I guess.”
“Wow,” she whispered. “Cultivators are so cool. Do you have a real sword?”
Lan Zhan showed her Bichen, and A-Ming reverently brushed her fingertips over the fine engravings on the scabbard.
“Swords are overrated,” Wei Wuxian scoffed. He pulled out a glitter talisman. “Wait till you see this!”
“Wei Ying, not inside.”
“What’s-” A-Ming began to ask, but was cut off by a voice calling “ Niece !” from downstairs. She startled and fled without another word.
"Lan Zhan, what do you think?" Wei Wuxian refilled his cup.
"Miss Li is an exceptional child."
"That's true, it's very good of her to leave food out for this orphan. But I was asking about the boy disappearing. Do you think the innkeeper had something to do with it?"
"We could question him."
"Ah, I don't know. He might realize A-Ming tipped us off." He sighed. "Let's just go tomorrow and we'll be ready for anything. I thought this Jin Guowei was simply incompetent, but he could be worse."
--
They got up early the next morning to eat in the dining room. Li Bao the innkeeper was their server that time.
“Is A-Ming sleeping in today?” Wei Wuxian asked him.
He gave them a rather unfriendly smile. “She’s not feeling well.”
Wei Wuxian pushed away some misgivings and prayed she would be all right. They bought more food they could save for later and left the inn to start the journey. All signs pointed to the forest east of town, probably at least half a day’s walk.
He usually appreciated a good farm landscape, especially in the bright warm morning, but he couldn’t concentrate on the beauty of it this time. “Lan Zhan?”
“Hmm?”
“We should come back here after the hunt to check on A-Ming.”
“Hmm.” It was a noise of agreement.
There wasn’t a good reason to worry. Kids got sick all the time. But he couldn’t trust her uncle, and if he had something to do with the boy’s disappearance, it might not be a safe place for his niece either. While they walked he couldn’t stop thinking about the shy girl who risked getting in trouble to feed a homeless boy. She’d been homeless herself from the sound of it; she must remember what hunger felt like. And that boy, would they find him? Was he still alive? A-Ming would be sad if they were too late to save him. Cultivators dealt with death often, and death meant bereaved family members or friends. Wei Wuxian had never been much good at distancing himself emotionally like cultivators were supposed to.
By noon, the farmland ended abruptly and the forest began. The few farmers they saw were skittish, staying close to their houses. One family agreed to let Li’l Apple stay in their pasture, as they both agreed this wouldn’t be the safest adventure for a little donkey, even one as ferocious as him.
The forest certainly had a creepy feeling to it, oppressively heavy with summer heat, trees drooping with the weight of green leaves and trailing moss. Wei Wuxian could feel traces of resentful energy, but not enough to pinpoint any specific location. Aside from that it was silent. “No birds,” Wei Wuxian commented. There was only the rustling of wind high in the treetops that didn’t reach to the ground below.
“Tracks.” Lan Zhan gestured to a muddy spot in the ground, where a boot had sunk into the ground. “From today.”
“Could be Jin Guowei. How long has he been out here?”
“He could have come and left, manipulating his sword.”
They walked the way the footprint was pointing, but in the carpet of leaves covering the trail there was little other evidence to go by. However, there was only the one trail, and it had to be leading somewhere.
Night fell, they ate buns they had been saving for a sparse dinner, and there was still no sign of people or wild animals of any sort. They kept walking down the dark path with only dappled moonlight to light the way. Wei Wuxian was tired from traveling, and it would soon be past Lan Zhan’s bedtime, but neither of them was thrilled at the prospect of camping in this place. The creeping feeling of danger began to grow, gnawing behind Wei Wuxian’s chest where he used to be able to feel his golden core. Though he had long given up the Tiger Amulet, he still could sense resentful energy in a way that other cultivators couldn’t. He signaled to let Lan Zhan know they were getting close.
Something crackled in the woods. They stopped dead. Wei Wuxian couldn’t see anything, but he knew he was being watched from the way sweat prickled the back of his neck.
The shadow that darted across the path was bigger than any wolf. Wei Wuxian could tell it was dog-like from the way its movement made his skin crawl and his heart pound. But it didn’t attack; it ran away into the brush.
“Lan Zhan-” he whispered.
“Wei Ying.” Lan Zhan touched his arm.
“Go after it.” He cleared his throat. “Go, before it gets away!”
He couldn’t see his husband’s expression in the dark. After a moment, Lan Zhan lifted off after it, giving chase through the trees.
Which left Wei Wuxian alone, in the dark, trying to control the shaking in his limbs. He leaned against a tree and took big gulps of air, squeezing his eyes shut.
When he opened them, he let out a short but embarrassingly high-pitched shriek. A ghost hovered right in front of his face.
“Um, personal space?!” He swiped at it with his flute, which passed right through it. The ghost backed up obligingly. It was a boy, maybe eleven or twelve years old, pale-faced and scrawny. His throat had been torn out, a bloody mess spilling down his translucent front. Wei Wuxian sighed. “A-Shang, right?”
The ghost nodded slowly. He half-drifted, half-walked into the forest, looking over his shoulder to make sure Wei Wuxian was following him. At first it seemed like he was just fighting his way through the bushes, but there were traces of cobblestones pressed into the earth and the remains of steps carved into the hills.
The smell gave away the boy’s corpse. It had been a few days and it was starting to go off. Wei Wuxian was glad the dim lighting hid most of the grisly sight of the child’s body torn up, half-covered in fallen leaves. He stopped there, but the ghost ignored its own body and kept going. It led him in a strange zig-zag pattern, and Wei Wuxian realized belatedly that he was avoiding traps and snares concealed in the woods.
They came upon the remains of an old structure, crumbling stone walls and rotting beams looming eerily in the night. The ghost stopped, but gestured for him to go on. Wei Wuxian gave it a thumbs up and snuck onwards to investigate. He was mindful of his footfalls, walking as lightly as if he were sneaking into the Cloud Recesses after curfew with a bottle of liquor.
Soon he could hear a man’s voice, talking in a low growl. “I said make noise!” the voice demanded. “Scream or cry like your friend did. They’ll never come if you just sit here.”
Wei Wuxian peered around the crumbling wall. The stone floor of the building was largely preserved, lit by moonlight without trees to overshadow it. It had been painted with a wide array, one that wouldn’t affect people but would trap anything evil inside. Right in the middle stood a man in cultivator’s robes. He stood over a smaller figure who knelt on the floor with their back to Wei Wuxian, blood on their robes, affixed by the wrists to a lantern hook in a half-fallen pillar. The cultivator struck downwards with his sheathed sword, eliciting a whimper from the child.
“Maybe the smell of blood wasn’t strong enough,” the cultivator said, pacing back and forth. He was a young man, skinny and disheveled in appearance as the men at the inn had said. It had to be Jin Guowei. He drew his sword.
Wei Wuxian stepped out from his hiding spot, fear of wild dogs evaporated in the flame of anger. “What the hell are you doing?” he demanded, reaching for his flute out of habit as if it were a sword.
“Wh- who are you? How did you find me here?” Jin Guowei raised his sword from the kid and pointed it at Wei Wuxian. “Get out of here. This is my business.”
“I think the fuck not.” Wei Wuxian advanced steadily until the point of Jin Guowei’s sword was nearly brushing his chest. “Who am I? I’m the Yiling Patriarch. All evil is my business.”
“The… the Yiling P…” The cultivator’s eyes widened. He looked up as a terrible howl cut off his half-formed sentence.
It wasn’t one wolf, it was three . Three huge wolf-like creatures, similar to the beast that he’d once spent a night with in Wen Chao’s dungeon. Their eyes were red, their jaws dripping drool, their black fur matted. They stalked outside the circle of the array, watching greedily.
“Finally,” Jin Guowei breathed. “Quick, let’s back off so they’ll take the bait. Then they’ll be trapped and we can-”
“The kid is bait ?” Wei Wuxian snarled, anger just strong enough to temper the growing, bubbling urge to scream his head off and run for his life. “Fuck you, seriously!”
Like a heavenly being, Lan Zhan descended from the wall in a ripple of white robes. He raised his sword and stood between them and the wolves. “Go,” he said to Wei Wuxian without even a glance over his shoulder.
“Hang on,” cried Jin Guowei. “Don’t attack them, you’ll mess up the plan!” He ran towards Lan Zhan and the wolves.
Wei Wuxian didn’t need more encouragement to get the hell out of there. With shaking hands, he drew his knife to cut loose the ropes that held the child and ripped off the lure flags that hid their face.
“Shit, it’s you,” he gasped, seeing A-Ming’s terrified face staring up at him. “How did you- nevermind, tell me later.”
He picked her up and ran for his life into the woods.
A-Ming let out a wordless cry of fear, looking over his shoulder. He sped up, but not fast enough - two heavy paws slammed into his back, bowling him over. He instinctively let go of A-Ming to catch himself. Terror washed over him like a tidal wave. He scrambled out of the way, pressed against a tree. The beast lunged - but nothing hit him. He looked up. A-Ming was standing over him. She held a thick branch in both hands, and she swung it to hit the beast across its snout. “Bad doggy!”
The wolf lunged at her. Its jaws closed around the stick, between her hands. She braced against the beast with all her might.
All her might wasn’t much. With a jerk of its head, the wolf yanked the branch out of her hands and tossed it aside. Off balance, she fell too. It pounced and pinned her down. Drool dripped onto her clothes. She curled up in a tight ball, bracing herself.
Wei Wuxian jumped to his feet and did the first thing he could think of, which was smacking the wolf’s hindquarters with his flute. It turned to him. Instinctively, an apologetic smile danced on his face while he backed away. The flute - maybe the flute could calm it. He raised it to his lips and began to play.
The wolf crouched to pounce. Every cell in his body screamed at him to drop the flute and run away. He was probably botching half the notes with how little breath he could catch and tame. Its growl rose, and then fell. Its ears twitched. It slowly lowered its haunches to sit. Meanwhile A-Ming got up and stood behind him, clutching his belt.
It’s okay , said the flute. Be peaceful. We are not enemies . He was just thinking of how to tell it Get the hell out of here and stop looking at me when there was a rustle in the trees behind them. The spell was broken immediately. The wolf turned with a ferocious snarl, and met its end on Lan Zhan’s sword.
“Is that the last one?” Wei Wuxian asked in a faint voice. When Lan Zhan nodded, he collapsed to his hands and knees, head spinning. A-Ming tugged on his sleeve; he ignored her.
Jin Guowei arrived on the scene later, flustered and furious. “What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded. “No one asked for backup. This is Jin territory, and you’re intruding on my mission. Now you’ve stolen my kill!” He took a moment to look between the two of them. “Wait, the white robes…” He glanced at Lan Zhan. “Your Excellency?”
“Lan Zhan, can you make him shut up? He’s giving me a headache.” He wasn’t really expecting Lan Zhan to do it for him, but he was rewarded with some angry grunts.
“Are you hurt?” Lan Zhan asked, helping him to his feet.
“Nah. But A-Ming is.”
“Miss Li?” Lan Zhan looked down at the girl clinging to Wei Wuxian’s sleeve.
Wei Wuxian put an arm around her shoulders and glared at the cultivator. “Jin Guowei, you fucked up.”
The man looked between them, working his jaw helplessly. Slowly, he sank to his knees.
“A-Ming, let’s let Hanguang-Jun deal with him.” Wei Wuxian took the girl’s hand. He could hear water running nearby, and headed that way. A worn-out path led to a flat, grassy riverbank. It felt peaceful, far removed enough from the resentful energy, with ample moonlight coming through the break in the trees. Wei Wuxian had A-Ming sit in the grass while he gathered firewood and used a flame talisman to bring to life a bright, cheery blaze that drove away the terror of the night.
As the adrenaline wore off, deep exhaustion set into Wei Wuxian’s limbs. “C’mere.” He beckoned for A-Ming to get closer to the firelight. “Let’s see that scratch.”
A-Ming didn't move. She had been kneeling in one spot for a while now, breathing quick shallow breaths.
"A-Ming." He knelt in front of her. "Who taught you to fight like that? You were way braver than me."
"I was… brave?" she whispered, coming around a little.
He beamed at her. "You saved me!"
A-Ming didn't quite seem to believe what she'd done with her own hands. She looked down. "Is Master Jin coming back?"
"No! You don't have to see him ever again. Lan Zhan will make sure of that."
She didn't reply, but she let out a deep breath and unclenched her fists from her skirt.
"Can I put some medicine on your boo-boo?"
She gave him a weird look.
Okay, maybe there were some differences between a four-year-old A-Yuan and a seven-year-old. "Pardon, I mean, your battle injury."
She shrugged her dress off her shoulders so he could get a clear look at the cut on her back. It wasn’t deep or very serious, but it wasn’t her only problem. A-Ming’s back was stained with bruises, like she’d pissed off Madame Yu on a bad day. Wei Wuxian bit back a curse. He applied a bit of salve to those after treating the cut.
A-Ming hardly seemed to notice when he was done. She sat hugging her knees staring blankly at the flames.
“Are you hungry?” Wei Wuxian offered her the only food he had on him, a slightly squashed stuffed bun. She didn’t take it. “I’m going to eat it if you don’t,” he threatened, and she buried her face in her knees and ignored him.
He pocketed it for later. “You must be tired. Let’s sleep and you’ll feel better in the morning.” Wei Wuxian noticed she was shaking, though the night was only a little chilly. He took his coat off and wrapped it around her, encouraging her to scoot closer to the fire. “A-Ming, you’re safe now. The wolves are dead. Jin Guowei is gone. We’ll take care of you, okay?” He put an arm around her shoulders. She tensed and shrank away, so he let go - she must be hurting, he chided himself, that was stupid. He wished he could ease her pain by sending spiritual energy, but he had none to offer, and anyway she wouldn’t know how to use it. There was nothing he could do but sit with her.
The song of crickets swelled in air, along with the soothing rush of water over stones in the river, and the treetops danced in a gentle night breeze. A-Ming swayed where she was sitting. Wei Wuxian casually moved closer to her. She tipped sideways and leaned against his arm, jerked upright, and soon leaned over again. Wei Wuxian held her like she was made of porcelain. She sank lower until she was resting her head in his lap.
Lan Zhan returned alone, carrying two swords. Wei Wuxian carefully lowered A-Ming to the soft grass. “What happened, Lan Zhan?” He stood up and walked away from the fire so their voices wouldn’t wake the child.
Lan Zhan kept the story succinct as always. “Resentful spirits around the fallen temple drove the wolves mad and caused them to attack humans. Jin Guowei failed to trap them, so he resorted to using children as bait.”
“The boy, A-Ming’s friend. I saw his ghost.”
Lan Zhan nodded. “Jin Guowei caught him with the help of Li Bao, the innkeeper. They left drugged food out to render him unconscious.”
Wei Wuxian cursed under his breath. “What about A-Ming?”
Lan Zhan stared over the moonlit river. “Li Bao sold her to Jin Guowei. He flew in, took her, and flew out the same night we were there.”
“ Sold her? Was he… coerced?”
“Jin Guowei claims he did not ask, but Li Bao offered freely without considering other options.”
“Any chance he’s lying so he looks less like a kidnapper? I mean, who sells their own family?”
“Li Bao arranged for a boy to be killed because he was eating unwanted scraps. He is not trustworthy.”
“With a baby on the way, you’d think they’d want more help at home.”
“Or fewer mouths to feed.”
He had a point. Li Bao had never wanted his niece in the picture, and he could easily blame her disappearance on the wolves. Wei Wuxian struggled to understand the motivations of a cruel, calculating man who saw family members in terms of money. He remembered the girl’s injuries and had a sinking feeling it wasn’t all the work of the cultivator. “What did you do with Jin Guowei?”
“Restrained in the ruins. He is cooperating.” Lan Zhan paused. “I will escort him to the nearest outpost to ensure he is brought to justice.” Of course he meant flying; there was no way they were going to spend days of their honeymoon walking with a criminal in tow.
“I know you can handle him. Look, I need to stay here to take care of A-Shang’s ghost anyway. He’s not powerful; he’ll be fine with a proper burial and knowing justice is served.”
Lan Zhan nodded. “I will return by sunrise.”
Wei Wuxian kissed his husband. “Have a fun trip!”
“Be safe.” Lan Zhan hesitated before he let go of Wei Wuxian’s hand.
“Get out of here, you worrywart! I’ll be fine.”
Wei Wuxian made sure A-Ming was still sleeping safely before he returned to the ruins and got to work. The ghost hovered over his shoulder and watched him construct the undersized tomb from fallen stones. He wished he had a shroud or coffin to wrap the body in; moving it was supremely unpleasant. He sealed the tomb with dirt and stones, and placed the only offering he had, the bun and a couple of dried nuts.
“That’s all I can offer you, A-Shang,” he said, crouching on his heels. The ghost hovered over his body’s final resting place, running translucent fingers through the bun. “It’s time to go. Thanks for your help earlier.”
The ghost looked towards the river wistfully.
“Do you want me to wake up A-Ming so you can see her before you go?”
A-Shang looked down at the bloody ruin of his visage and shook his head.
“I’ll tell her goodbye for you.”
A-Shang nodded thanks. He closed his eyes and drifted through the stone. Wei Wuxian felt the boy’s spirit release its form and begin the journey onwards. He stayed crouching by the tomb for a long time, exhausted and covered in dirt with new blisters on his hands. Poor A-Shang; he knew how it felt to be alone and friendless, and he had died afraid. If they had gotten here sooner, maybe they could have saved him.
“Ah, don’t be so sentimental,” he muttered to himself, wiping away a stray tear. He returned to the riverbank to find A-Ming still snoring peacefully by the embers of the fire. He longed to lie down beside the fire and sleep the rest of the night, but he thought it would probably be wise to keep guard, even though the threat was likely past. Instead he bathed in the cool river and washed the dirt off his clothes. The chill refreshed him, and he built up the fire to a bright blaze, composing tunes under his breath to entertain himself until the morning.
Lan Zhan returned just as the sun was brushing the treetops, leading Li’l Apple. Best of all, he had been thoughtful enough to pick up breakfast. Wei Wuxian almost wept at the smell of pancakes, and being able to change into clean clothes from the saddlebags was almost as delightful. “Take a nap, Lan Zhan,” he ordered. “You’ve been traveling all night.”
“You have not slept either.”
Wei Wuxian waved him off. “Evil never sleeps, remember? You’re the one with a schedule that’s been disrupted.”
Lan Zhan frowned. “I cannot fall asleep again after sunrise. Rest, Wei Ying.”
“Lan Zhan, I don’t need to-” Wei Wuxian stopped talking as Lan Zhan took their blanket from the saddlebag and wrapped it around his shoulders. “Okay, fine,” he conceded. “Just a short rest. Wake me up in an hour. Or whenever A-Ming wakes up.” He lay down in the grass and let his exhausted limbs settle into the ground. His husband knelt by him and gently brushed hair away from his eyes. Wei Wuxian smiled and fell asleep.