Archive of Our Own

Jin Ling hated this kind of weather. It was terribly hot , and it rained constantly, making him long for cooler days. He wished for the summer to be over, for this unbearable, sticky heat to go away, allowing him to finally think clearly enough not to get angry over even the smallest failure. Many things annoyed him just like that, without even the slightest reason, only leading to more and more difficult and complicated conversations with the council of elders.

Whenever he could, he stayed in the Carp Tower, elevated high enough that he could claim to feel the invigorating gusts of wind from the sea whispering to him promises of a calm, cooler night. In his own residence, he also didn't have to wear all those layers of elegant robes, he didn't have to suffocate in a tight collar, and he didn't have to pretend that everything going on around him was pleasing to him. He didn't have to listen to music that he didn't like at all, nor did he have to listen to the stories of the other leaders who constantly seemed to want to discuss something with him.

Not to mention that quite a few of them had clearly made it a point of honor to marry him off to one of the girls from their sect. He didn't know any of them, none of them interested him, and it only gave him a headache whenever someone started to make advances towards him again. When he was younger, he used to get extremely embarrassed by it and everyone could admire the blush that appeared on his cheeks. With time, however, he became indifferent to such behavior and proposals, simply nodding his head and smoothly changing the topic to a more interesting one.

Yet there were still those who still tried to get him to do something. They encouraged him, they wooed him, they tried to treat him like the child he hadn't been for a long time, hoping to gain more influence, more wealth, or anything else that would at least be marginally profitable. Jin Ling hated it even more than the summer that was pelting him on all sides, having the impression that whenever he appeared at the Discussion Conferences he fell into a pot full of greasy, thick food.

In fact, there were definitely more things that Sect Leader Jin wasn't fond of, and he could enumerate them endlessly if he so wished. However, he experienced many of them all at once when he was obliged to attend yet another lavish banquet, when he had to smile at the people gathered, in his head counting down the time left to excuse himself from further conversations and pretending with fatigue. Most of the people around him couldn't quite grasp this, mistakenly assuming that since he came from Lanling Jin, he must have loved splendor and adoration, but it was quite the opposite.

For Jin Ling, more than anything else, loved freedom. This opportunity to be free, to rush ahead without thinking, to abandon everything that had imprisoned him so far. He associated this with a happy, peaceful childhood, to which he escaped whenever he could, in his own way. He was also far from saying that he had to constantly show others the wealth and splendor hidden in the vaults of the Carp Tower, while at the same time knowing that what was normal for him was already untold wealth for someone from a poorer sect.

As always, when such thoughts haunted him, he recalled the events on Dafan Mountain, feeling a blush crawl up his neck. Immortal-Binding Nets. After all these years, he was still reminded of how easy it was to overstep the boundaries of good taste, how easy it was to reach for something you had, even though other cultivators had never seen it with their eyes in their lives. Annoyed, he snarled under his breath and then looked toward the open door, watching heavy raindrops fall on the stone slabs of the stately courtyard. 

The downpour, as was customary to this time of year, didn't give up. It even seemed to  intensify, fueling the ghostly heat that was seeping into the rooms, extending its sticky, invisible hands to everyone, regardless of whether they wished it or not. Although Jin Ling couldn't see any vegetation from where he was sitting, he was sure that the leaves were bending under the weight of successive heavy drops, unlike him enjoying this rain. 

The weather wasn't good, it was tiring, and it created many difficulties not only for ordinary people but also for cultivators who had to chase demons and ghosts who didn't know when they should let others rest. At the same time, however, it was also an almost ideal environment to engage in competition, to prove to each other which sect was the best, whose disciples were promising. With no other great worries, they could afford to organize a competition, a rivalry that could fuel the desire to win something more than the first trophy.

But at the same time, these kinds of tournaments were definitely quenching other, hotter and worse urges that could lead to a real tragedy. No one, Jin Ling thought, was in a hurry for war, for some kind of armed conflict, for a clash where more people would lose their lives. At least that was what he tried to believe, remembering all too well what had happened six years ago. The conflict, of which he had become a part of, was still bearing down on him, finding more and more new and less expected opportunities. 

The man sighed again, looking towards the leaders of several minor sects, who were sitting nearby and discussing something incredibly earnestly. Lan Xichen listened to them and, catching his gaze, smiled gently and nodded, to which Jin Ling responded instinctively. He immediately slipped his hand under the collar of his outer robe, rubbing the nape of his neck with his palm, and closed his eyes, feeling the fatigue sinking in, as if it wanted to invade literally every part of his body.

He was aware that it was still too early to sleep, but he didn't have the strength to sit among the other important personalities of the cultivation world any longer. Jin Ling had to admit that he wasn't at all amused by their stories and anecdotes, all those high-minded remarks, but perhaps it had something to do with the miserable weather that wanted to simply crush him to the ground. He wondered if, when he was a child he reacted so much to this stifling, sticky summer heat, but he couldn't remember.

What came to his mind was mainly bathing in the lake, hiding among the lotus leaves, hiding from his uncle, and being an absolutely frivolous child. In his memories, there was no room for trivialities like rain or stuffiness, no room for too much sun or too little wind, as if it didn't matter to him at all. Whatever the case, right now he definitely didn't feel like sitting still any longer and getting tired in those heavy, richly decorated robes.

Therefore, he bowed to Sect Leader Qin and walked out of the hall before anyone could stop him, gladly taking in the pounding of the thick, heavy raindrops that at least slightly eased his anger as the unbearable heat spread through his body. Feeling a kind of numbness and unwillingness to stay indoors, he moved ahead, soon slipping behind the walls of the Laoling Qin Mansion to veer off the path and tear through the bushes that defended his way to the lake.

He knew that it was located nearby, though he didn't know exactly how far from the buildings. He had taken a walk there once, it seems during the previous Discussion Conference that was held in Laoling Qin's lands, and found the place to be the most pleasant in the entire area. Away from human gazes, away from intrusive questions and requests that he never intended to fulfill. Besides, he associated it with the Lotus Pier, with the time when he could escape to the water and spend his days wading among the magnificent plants or covering himself with large leaves.

However, those days were gone irretrievably, and no matter how much Jin Ling wished to go back to them, he didn't have the ability to do so. All that was left for him to do was to grasp the little substitutes of hope and pleasure he sometimes got when he wasn't busy with the affairs of his sect, when he didn't have to oversee training or make sure that all the local residents were safe. His insecurity and reluctance to do anything of the sort were actually gone, awakening in him a level of responsibility he hadn't expected.

There were days like this, however, when the stuffiness kept him awake and polite conversation only measured him. On those days, Jin Rulan preferred not to engage in any discussions, preferring not to answer the questions put to him so as not to harm Lanling Jin in any way, knowing that one crooked smile from him could change a lot in relations with the other sects. They still reckoned with the decisions that were made in the Carp Tower, they reckoned with the wealth he had, but even so, Jin Ling was aware that he didn't have the same kind of following as his grandfather or uncle. 

He was still far from this, especially as the other leaders were older and much more experienced than him. More than once and more than twice, he had encountered people looking at him somewhat disdainfully, suggesting that he should rethink his decisions, completely as if he had no idea what he was actually doing. Sect Leader Jin snorted in exasperation at his thoughts, and then ran down a small hill as he spotted the waters of a lake behind a thicket of bushes and tall grasses.

Thinking little of what he was doing, he slipped off most of his heavy robes and then just slowly stepped into the water and eventually swam ahead, not really paying attention to anything. He needed this, this freedom, this feeling that he didn't have to focus at all on what was required of him, that he didn't have to spend time with the other leaders who seemed like they were going to charm each other incessantly. His fatigue was undoubtedly not helping him make rational decisions, and he should have been fully aware of what was going on around him as he was asked more and more agonizing questions.

Jin Ling also intended to rest before the coming day. The tournament that his disciples were to participate in was definitely not one of the easiest, and he had no right to interfere with the results. He was aware that his disciples might not  turn out to be the best cultivators, though of course it measured him in a way. He wanted to show his best side, probably exactly as any leader would, but he couldn't and wasn't going to demand miracles from his people.

He moved his hands more firmly, opening his eyes, feeling the surrounding noise pleasantly soothing his senses. The world around him wasn't overly clear at the moment, but it didn't matter in the least when he simply let the water carry him away, feeling so light, so completely uninhibited, as if he had managed to free himself from his body and disappear. The suffocation that had been clouding him just a moment ago was almost completely gone, causing him to feel like smiling broadly. 

He floated above the surface, somewhere around the middle of the lake, to take a deep breath, letting the raindrops hit his body. His muscles trembled slightly, surprised at the effort he had just forced them to make, but finally he felt that he was at peace, that all the anger, irritation and wrath was gone, that those strong swipes of his shoulders had taken away  his  anger that had been churning somewhere at the bottom of his heart, that had flooded his thoughts like a black, disturbing quiver. He lifted his eyelids slowly, glancing up at the darkening sky, and then twitched slightly as a familiar barking came to him.

He moved, looking towards the shore where Fairy was frolicking around his robes. Her tail swayed slightly from side to side as she curiously sniffed at the soaked clothes, adjusting her ears, apparently trying to figure out exactly where her master was. Jin Ling wanted to shout to her, whistling to get her attention, but at the same moment, he spotted someone coming down the slope, which worried him a bit, and he even felt a shadow of annoyance.

However, this disappeared quickly when he noticed white, wet and dirty robes. The fabric had to be of the finest quality, and each embroidered detail looked as if it had been worked on by a master craftsman. From the distance he was at, he couldn't know what Lan Sizhui had said as he crouched down beside Fairy, but he could quietly admire how his long, loose hair slid casually over his shoulder. How he wove his long fingers into the fur of the dog, which immediately nudged his hand with its wet nose.

From a distance, Lan Yuan looked really calm, as if nothing could move him, but Jin Ling was aware that something had clearly been bothering his friend lately. He couldn't tell what exactly it was, as the man was hiding some of his thoughts from him, but he still couldn't hide his worry. It seemed to paint itself on his face, in his eyes, between his slightly furrowed brows, hiding in the smile he bestowed upon the people around him.

Sect Leader Jin was getting more and more worried about this, but he didn't know at all what he could do about it, after all, there was no way to force Lan Sizhui to talk. Besides, such an action would undoubtedly be the worst thing he could do at all, so he only tried to show his friend that he would always, no matter what, be there for him, and that he could talk to him, could trust him, could share all his doubts with him. Therefore, disregarding his own  worries, Jin Ling headed slowly towards the shore.

The sloshing of the water and the rain hitting rhythmically all around him effectively muffled all other noises, still rocking him slightly and giving him that peace he had been missing so much throughout the passing day. He stopped when he touched the bottom with his feet and just stared at Lan Sizhui, who spoke softly to Fairy, stroking her head. He didn't move, giving the impression that he was just waiting, as if he intended to stay there as long as necessary, not caring that his elegant, probably expensive, robes were soaking up water.

Jin Ling moved toward him again, taking careful steps on the muddy, uneven bottom. He didn't expect anyone to look for him, and especially not his friend, who was undoubtedly busy making sure that the Gusu Lan juniors were prepared for the upcoming competition. He  had his own problems and worries, and yet here he was, so close. Lan Yuan smiled gently as soon as Sect Leader Jin stood on the shore. Fairy approached him, wagging her tail slightly.

"Zizhen said you ran out of the meeting," Lan Sizhui said softly, without meaning.

He watched his friend from under his closed eyelids, partly hiding from the rain under the crowns of the growing trees on the shore of the lake. He was aware that his robes were already wet and that he would have to spend a lot of time to restore them to their proper condition, but he wasn't worried about that at all. He was much more concerned about how Jin Ling felt at this moment. After all, it wasn't from today that Lan Yuan knew how this one was, how strongly he could experience certain things, how certain events affected him.

He was afraid that, during the meetings he didn't attend, words were said again that Sect Leader Jin simply couldn't handle. It happened,  much less frequently than before, but there were still days and moments when Jin Rulan seemed terrified and deeply affected. He would run away, cross his arms, not listening to what was being said to him. He seemed like a traumatized child, but Lan Sizhui knew that wasn't entirely true.

It was his way of dealing with some of the things that scared him too much, that rejected him in some way, that were too complicated for him. He had been reacting this way since Lan Yuan could actually remember, and even though it had been several years since they had actually met, this one thing hadn't changed. The man smiled slightly at that thought, wanting to say something else, but at that moment Lan Jingyi stood beside him, throwing fresh, clean robes towards their mutual friend.

"You better get dressed before someone realizes you're parading around here like this," he stated, rubbing his nose with his finger, looking over at Ouyang Zizhen, who had also joined them.

"Fairy followed you right away," the heir of Baling Ouyang stated, as if to justify their presence here.

Jin Ling, who clenched his fingers tightly on the clothes thrown in his direction, snorted under his breath while slightly cringing. He hadn't expected these two to join them, and for some undetermined reason, he felt a bit like he had been cheated at this moment. It was as if something he had been promised earlier had been taken away from him, something that was actually already his. He immediately felt that he had blushed quite a bit, so he began to pull on the lighter robes that Lan Jingyi had brought for him, listening to him frowning at the whole meeting that he himself had just escaped from.

"Jingyi," Lan Yuan spoke up, surprisingly softly. "You know very well why Zewu-Jun wanted you to participate in these discussions. You shouldn't run away from them."

"But the Princess is allowed to do that already?" grunted the young man, curtly.

He also immediately jumped aside, avoiding the not-so-serious blow Jin Ling dealt him, and then got into an altercation with him, completely ignoring the other two friends. Ouyang Zizhen smiled a bit sleepily at this, and his gaze worthy of a dreamer who involuntarily followed the fast-moving men who now started chasing each other around the edge of the lake. Fairy immediately joined them, barking contentedly while trying to grab Lan Jingyi's clothes and hold him most securely in place.

Watching them behave the same way they used to, the same way they did when they first spoke to each other, was fascinating in its own way. There was also something warm about it, something familiar, something one returned to with pleasure, because it showed that even though they had grown up and changed, some things were still the same as before. This, in turn, pleased Ouyang Zizhen, causing him to look to the future a little more calmly, believing that their friendship would survive any problems they might encounter.

He knew that he would soon take his father's place, so he was glad to be so close to Jin Ling, to be able to talk to him, to spend time with him, and to already exchange views on all sorts of things. However, this didn't change the simple fact that he was simply happy to have a friend in him, that although so much had happened and so much had befallen the young leader, he hadn't actually changed. It was the same with Lan Sizhui, although the Baling Ouyang heir was sure that there were issues that lingered like demons in the man's heart.

"They'll both be dirty in no time," Lan Sizhui remarked.

A soft smile twitched on his lips as he tried to calm his still screaming friends, trying to get through their taunts and silly remarks. He didn't come closer, didn't try to separate them, knowing that they wouldn't really hurt each other, but he didn't think that such arguing would lead to anything. Besides, he had to admit that he was a little afraid that in a moment with these screams they would lure other people here, and he didn't want the members of the other sects to be witnesses of what happened after all.

With his gentle persuasion, he managed to call the other two to order, allowing Jin Ling to throw on clean robes and then gather the ones that had been lying abandoned on the ground, aware that he had been acting somewhat impulsively all day. He glanced uncertainly at Lan Sizhui, as if to make sure the latter wasn't angry with him, but seeing his gentle smile, he immediately calmed down. Though, it must be said, not entirely.

He was angry as a wasp. Angry at Lan Jingyi and Ouyang Zizhen for showing up here too, as if they couldn't understand that sometimes he needed privacy. They didn't have to accompany him to literally everything, and they certainly didn't have to watch him like he was still a little kid. Yes, he was the youngest of them all, but at the same time, he held the highest position, making him deserve at least a shadow of respect. Jin Ling almost puffed out his cheeks, trying to calm himself down, knowing that he was acting irrationally at this moment, but still unable to calm himself down.

"The talks are still going on, so we'll have to enter the mansion through one of the side gates if you don't want someone to start saying you disappeared" Ouyang Zizhen remarked calmly, climbing between the bushes.

"You guys disappeared too," burbled Jin Ling.

"We're not as important as a great leader like you, Princess," Lan Jingyi stated servingly, only to immediately grind his teeth in a smile before shrugging his shoulders. "They didn't talk about anything important, I was already terribly bored there. Another moment and I would have started reciting all the rules to keep myself busy with something."

"Surely everyone would be delighted by your display" regarded Sect Leader Jin gruffly. "I'm almost certain that several leaders would immediately decide to find a wife for you."

Lan Jingyi blushed at the frivolous remark, laughed somewhat idiotically, and then simply moved ahead, calling out to Fairy as if he thought she was his best companion. He didn't look back at his friends, rolling up the sleeves of the long, elegant robe he was wearing, while mumbling something unintelligible under his breath. He didn't even pay attention to the fact that Ouyang Zizhen laughed quietly at Jin Ling's remark, he didn't try to get Lan Sizhui to defend him against this obvious attack, he just pushed forward, acting as if he was going to ram all the bushes in his path.

"Not much was lost, it's true. There were some people who started suggesting that we should all participate in the tournament, no matter how high our position is, and it seems to have been the most interesting moment during the entire meeting." stated the heir of Baling Ouyang, once they had conquered the hill and were on the road leading to the mansion.

Lan Jingyi was there waiting for them, discussing something with the juniors from several sects who were apparently hanging around without much purpose, bored and trying to find a place for themselves. The young man tried to get them to admit that they were trying to find the place where the tournament was to be held, and as he pressed on, the juniors blushed harder and harder. Apparently there were similar thoughts running through their heads that they couldn't quite hide, which Lan Jingyi commented with a loud shout and immediately threatened them.

Immediately, with a very serious look on his face, with which he undoubtedly resembled Lan Qiren somewhat; the only thing missing was a beard that he could stroke with his fingers; he began to recite the rules of Gusu Lan, having a great deal of fun in the process. He eventually chased the kids away once he spotted his other friends and noticed that they had probably never acted so brazenly. His hasty glance at Jin Ling, however, said otherwise, but none of them picked up on this obvious taunt, letting it eventually blur into thin air.

The rain was still falling, but it was definitely more pleasant than when Jin Ling left the meeting, so obviously showing his impatience with what was going on around him. His wet, disheveled hair was now flapping against his back, and probably no one would say that he had the leader of one of the biggest sects in front of him. The young man looked quite unassuming now, and his clouded forehead smoothed out, allowing him the shadow of a smile and calm. That frivolous moment, those few strokes of his hands under the water, that sense of freedom that had seeped into his heart had propelled him so far, allowing him to look forward with a smile.

That was probably why the rest of the day passed relatively peacefully, and when the rain ended and all signs pointed to a bright and quiet night coming, Jin Rulan felt decidedly better. He even headed to the rooms where his disciples were staying to talk to them before the upcoming tournament, to give them some encouragement and assure them that whatever happened, he would still be proud of them. He didn't want any of them to enter the competition with the idea that their leader wasn't happy with them, and that if they didn't measure up, he would decide to punish them.

The fact that in such a case he wasn't going to let them go and was thinking about additional training, however, was quite obvious and he assumed he didn't have to say it out loud. However, he believed that they would all do well, that he would be satisfied with them, although he still hoped that they wouldn't turn out to be inferior to the members of Gusu Lan, who were after all looked after by Lan Jingyi. Jin Ling definitely didn't intend to show his friend any weakness, even, or perhaps especially, in such a field.

Surely to some it would just be a silly, even puppyish rivalry, but it still had its meaning to Sect Leader Jin. Besides, he didn't see anything wrong with it, as long as he and his friend didn't apply excessive requirements or punish their disciples for failing or stumbling on their path to greatness. Moreover, not everyone had to be an incredibly good cultivator, Jin Ling was well aware of that.

He never claimed that he himself was someone special, or particularly important, powerful, or unusual. Perhaps a similar inclination applied to him when he was a child, when he stuck his nose out, believing that he really could do anything because of his background. However, this complacency almost disappeared when he fully realized that it wasn't his birth , but his behavior and decisions that would ultimately show who he was. Therefore, quite quickly, he shed the downiness of a chick and began his arduous work of showing the world that he is worth something.

Jin Ling shook his head, not wanting to think about all this right now, and once again assured his disciples that he was confident they would do great in the upcoming tournament. He withdrew later from their quarters to stop in the small garden in front of the rooms, drawing in the air deeply. It was still muggy and quite steamy, hinting at more rain, and the man was sure he could count on another tiring and sleepless night. He hated rolling from side to side in an attempt to simply rest, but he had yet to find a way to properly calm himself.

"Are you giving final advice to your disciples, Sect Leader Jin?"

The man twitched slightly as he looked at Qin Zixin, who smiled slightly at him. Sect Leader Qin wasn't much older than him, but even so, Jin Ling had the impression that he had always treated him like a complete fool. It was hard to tell that he was exalting himself or trying to show him that he was certainly better than him at what he did, but he still didn't take him seriously. He had a lot of biting remarks, he had a lot of not-so-nice words, and he repeatedly tried to encourage him to do something that would certainly damage his reputation and Lanling Jin's position.

Jin Rulan didn't know why, but it measured him that with all this, Qin Zixin was a smart and elegant man with appeal. At one time, there were even stories circulating about the numerous marriage proposals that had been made to him, but so far, Sect Leader Qin hadn't accepted any of them. He claimed, as everyone knew, that he had to prepare a suitable place for his wife beforehand so that she wouldn't be ashamed of the clan she would be joining.

Some remarks had even reached Jin Rulan's ears about Qin Zixin insisting that he had to provide his future spouse with the kind of grandeur that his unfortunate aunt in the Carp Tower had received. It was ridiculous, largely irrational, but still, Sect Leader Jin had enough oil in his head not to comment on these reports. He guessed that Qin Zixin was merely waiting for something to slip out, which was why he remained absolutely, perfectly even, indifferent towards him.

"Is this something bad, Sect Leader Qin?" he asked, turning towards him.

"But no, I didn't say anything like that. I only thought that Lanling Jin members are always well-prepared," Qin Zixin stated, smiling kindly.

Jin Ling struggled to restrain himself from an irritated snort. He wasn't in his own lands where he could allow himself a little more freedom after all. He also remembered that he was still trying to rebuild the good name of his own sect, showing the others that he wasn't such a hopeless and weak leader after all, that he wasn't a child who took offense at everything, so he did his best to remain calm and serious.

"They are, as always," he countered. "But I don't think there's anything wrong with telling them that I'm proud of them and I have faith in them to do well. It seems like we all need that sometimes."

Qin Zixin nodded his head in agreement, then noted that some leaders and heirs had decided to join their disciples to not only cheer them on, but also to show them what ideal they should strive for. The man immediately noted that it was a great moment to raise the level of competition a bit, and added that he himself was also thinking about going on a hunt together with his people.

"This will definitely add some variety to the competition," Jin Ling admitted, smiling in a forced manner.

"You're not too convinced of that, Sect Leader Jin."

Jin Rulan denied it, noting that it would be more prudent if everyone entered the competition on the same terms in that case. He didn't even notice when he let himself get drawn into a discussion on the subject, feeling his temples begin to pulsate with pain as he began to feel the fatigue of this entire day and this additional, completely unnecessary conversation. Qin Zixin was teasing him in a way he couldn't even define, causing Jin Ling to feel like breaking off good relations with Laoling Qin, but that was probably what his interlocutor was waiting for.

Because of this, he now clenched his teeth tightly, listening to the other man as he dragged out his speech endlessly, finally concluding that he would tell all the guests what they had discussed. Jin Rulan was already convinced that Qin Zixin would do anything to put him in a bad light or outright blame him for the proposal that all the high-ranking sect members should also participate in the competition.

Nevertheless, he remained polite to him, informing him that he was going to take a walk before resting as soon as Sect Leader Qin offered to escort him to his room. As if he was a fool who doesn't know how to get there on his own. Or, as if he needed to be watched over, which was just as likely under the circumstances, Jin Ling concluded, staring at Qin Zixin's back as he walked off in his own direction.

"What a pompous donkey," Lan Jingyi stated, emerging from behind the wall of a neighboring building. "I wanted to come out a few times and just punch him right in the mouth, but Zewu-Jun would probably make me rewrite all the rules like five times later, just to make sure I remembered them right. Ha! He wants us to participate in his lame competitions, then go ahead, I'll tell Sizhui to come with me too and show him what it means to prepare his disciples well!"

"You're getting caught up in his talk," muttered Jin Ling, but he smiled with the corner of his mouth.

Lan Jingyi snorted, throwing an arm around his shoulder and pulling him towards him in a friendly gesture, noting that he himself had also apparently let his emotions get the best of him. Immediately, the Gusu Lan member assured him that he wasn't eavesdropping, but since he was so close, it would be foolish to back out or get into the middle of a heated discussion. Sect Leader Jin rolled his eyes, assuring him that he wouldn't say anything to Zewu-Jun about this, letting it remain their secret, and then headed towards his room, having dropped Lan Jingyi's hand earlier.

He waved in his direction when the man assured him that he would tell Lan Sizhui all about it, but he didn't get into any further discussion, too tired to even broach the subject. He was annoyed by Qin Zixin's behavior, who was clearly trying to provoke him into something, perhaps intending to show everyone that Lanling Jin, and perhaps the rest of the great sects, weren't at all as great and powerful as they were rumored to be. The heat that floated in the humid, steamy and stuffy air didn't help him at all, only irritating him further. Therefore, as soon as he was in his room, he threw himself onto his bed, hoping that exceptionally that night sleep would decide to come quickly.

***

The weather seemed to only get worse. It was as if the heavens intended to see if the young cultivators were able to fight amidst the pouring rain and drizzle, if they were able to hit moving targets, if they were able to chase ghosts and demons, and if they showed no fear. The rivalry became fiercer because of this, resembling a much more serious clash than skirmishes between friends. It was a far cry from the duels where you could boast of each other's victories, when you could applaud young people giving their best.

Lan Sizhui felt like he was surrounded by a darkening matrix. He didn't know where the sense of danger and the realization that the fight wasn't quite right came from, that the competition seemed to be going beyond the framework he had known so far. It was as if the weather was pushing everyone assembled not only to make concessions of various kinds, but also to go crazy. As soon as word got out among the leaders that some of them were considering joining their juniors, there was virtually no one to refuse.

Only the eldest or most stable leaders concluded that this was the time for the young ones to excel, and they remained in the residence to await the results there, spending their time very comfortably. Zewu-Jun also stayed out of the skirmishes, letting Lan Jingyi be the one to lead the Gusu Lan members, only asking Lan Sizhui to help his friend every step of the way. He trusted them, he knew that even though they were young and had only recently been involved in training the next generation themselves, they had considerable knowledge and skill.

He also hoped that they would simply prove themselves, that they would prove to others that they were in no way different from the other seniors and heirs who also led their people. He didn't require them to win outright, he didn't require them to prove to everyone that Gusu Lan hadn't declined because of his past decisions and friendships, he simply wanted them to use all their skills and abilities while teaching the juniors how they should handle certain situations.

Nevertheless, Lan Sizhui had to admit that somewhere internally he felt some pressure. He was aware of where it came from, but he didn't want to think about it at the moment. Like many other things that were related to his origin, he stubbornly pushed it somewhere to the bottom of his consciousness. But at the same time, he knew that this was what was destroying everything around him, that it was causing him to build invisible walls, not allowing himself to be fully honest, to try to reach for what could have been his.

Could it have ? The man shook his head slightly, trying to push those thoughts away again, taking shelter from the rain under the crown of one of the spreading trees. The surroundings were thickly covered with vegetation, which had become strangely heavy and darkened by the recent rains, as if it too wanted to hide in the surrounding twilight. In this constant humming, amidst the shy calls of birds from afar, in the murmur and the pleasant chill that came from the ground.

Somewhere further ahead of them stretched farmland, but Lan Sizhui hadn't the slightest desire to head that way. He felt comfortable in the semi-darkness that surrounded him on all sides, engulfing his bright, soiled robes, consuming every scrap of his body and taking him to safe, quiet places. Away from the thoughts that were trying to catch up with him, away from the memories of Wei Wuxian's stories that had much to say about the tournament in the lands of Qishan Wen.

Away from the sense of alienation. Lan Yuan had faced it from the day he learned the truth about his origins, though at first he didn't see it as something so bad that he should despair. But then he began to see the dark side of this painful truth, as it gradually dawned on him that there was no one left for him in the whole world. If others found out who he was, they would probably demand his life as well, to put an end to everything that had happened.

The deeper the realization grew into him that he wasn't really a member of Gusu Lan, that he came from a lineage that was willing to murder other cultivators because of its own desires, the more muted he became. He seemed to remove himself from life, from his friends, watching them in silence, offering them advice when they wanted it, but never trying to lead them, never trying to tell them what would be best for them, never trying to guide them in any way. For at the bottom of his heart lurked the fear that he too might prove to be as cruel and intransigent as Wen Ruohan.

Therefore, he disappeared among the books, among the scrolls that rested in the great library of Cloud Recesses; he hid himself among the writings, becoming in part a shadow of himself, believing that all would soon perceive that what he dreamed of was the quiet, peaceful life of a scholar. He was far from desiring to explore the world, to pursue every evil, to never stay in one place for long; he was also far from dreaming of a power that nothing could stop. 

When he met Ghost General, when he spoke to him, when he looked at him, he wondered how much resentment energy was still hidden within him, how much anger and hatred was still coursing through his body. How much anger was hidden in the man who still roamed this world, causing Lan Sizhui to wonder if he too harbored a fury he wouldn't be able to control. He feared that he had so much irrational anger inside him that he would end up raising his hand at someone if only he allowed himself a little more, if only he didn't try to maintain extreme, almost unbearable self-discipline.

In all of this, there were also his deeper feelings, which he didn't realize existed at first, and when he finally understood them, they terrified him. Not because they were bad, dirty, or in any way debilitating to himself, but he was aware of how much trouble they could cause. He couldn't and didn't expect them to ever be reciprocated, yet he also didn't feel rejected, didn't feel that in any way Jin Ling was trying to push him away, that he was pushing him to some sort of margin, that he was banishing him from his surroundings.

However, there was no doubt that the man was probably unaware of exactly what Lan Sizhui was hiding, in his gaze, in his gentle smiles that he used to hide behind. He didn't want to worry him, knowing full well that Jin Rulan was the leader of one of the largest sects, that he not only had his own life and desires, but also responsibilities that he had to fulfill and live up to. For this reason, the Gusu Lan member tried to keep to himself, unable and unwilling, however, to deny his friend the walks or conversations they shared, not to mention the letters they exchanged very often.

However, he stubbornly tried not to cross certain boundaries, sticking to what they had so far, enjoying the friendship that was offered to him. He couldn't expect more, especially since Jin Ling knew the secret of his origin. The fact that he hadn't turned his back on him, that he still saw him as close to him, was amazing in itself and caused Lan Sizhui to almost choke on it at times, the realization that a shadow of happiness hadn't been taken away from him by something completely beyond his control. 

However, that didn't mean that he was happy or proud of who he really was. He knew that it was nothing to be ashamed of, that he had nothing to hide, that he had nothing to run from, that he had done nothing to hurt innocent people, but the thought of it constantly came back to him. Although he was glad that he already knew who he was, that he was aware of where he came from, and that Wen Qionglin had taken the time to tell him everything about it, there was anger hiding in him at the same time. A shadow of annoyance, a shadow of disbelief and fear that there really was an equally hot and hateful blood running through his veins that he was unable to escape from.

Lan Sizhui sighed heavily as he looked up at the sky, noticing how it was becoming covered with thicker and thicker clouds as it sank into darkness, heralding only darkness and more rain. He shuddered when he heard a rustling nearby and turned to look at several tired juniors, who seemed to want to sit down for a moment and take a deep breath. When they saw their senior, however, they stopped in their tracks, blushing and shifting uncertainly from foot to foot.

"I wasn't expecting such terrible weather," he said softly, nodding at them to come closer. "Hunting in such a downpour is difficult even for more experienced cultivators."

The juniors looked at each other with somewhat uncertainty, but eventually walked closer to him, sharing their thoughts with him and promising to move in a moment. They clearly needed a breather though, a moment in a slightly quieter and drier place, away from the people who were constantly rushing somewhere. Lan Sizhui said nothing to their assurances, merely listening intently to what they talked about, to what they had already accomplished, also nodding when they mentioned that Lan Jingyi had moved on with the others.

That was exactly what his friend had expected, knowing that the younger man was in hot water, and if he had already caught a lead, if he had already been drawn to something, then he wasn't going to stop. Moreover, Lan Yuan also suspected that Jin Ling might have somewhat unwisely even mentioned some foolish bet or something like that, which they both wanted to take part in. They had been adults for a long time and should abandon similar behaviors, they should move on, but still such foolishness still happened to them.

He didn't see anything wrong with it, as long as they weren't hurting anyone with it, and he didn't think they were willing to put their disciples through any trouble just for their own ideas. The young Sect Leader Jin might commonly be thought of as someone complacent, someone who didn't care too much about what was going on around him, but Lan Sizhui knew full well that this wasn't the case. Therefore, he was sure that even if his friends were currently engaged in some crazy race, they were keeping an eye on those they were supposed to be watching over.

The man sighed barely audibly, closing his eyes for a moment, realizing that there was a kind of thorn in his side, a shadow of jealousy that constantly drove into his heart, making him seem to tremble all over. He enjoyed this freedom, this closeness, this trust they shared with their friends, and at the same time he was aware that his background, his birth, was an obstacle that constantly pushed him away from what he really wanted. Not only was this problematic, but other things seemed far less important to him than this realization.

Heavy raindrops drummed loudly on the large leaves of the plants by which they stood, and he shook his head, glancing at the weary disciples, who looked around somewhat uncertainly, apparently not knowing where they should go next. He smiled at them at once and said that he would move on with them, although he made it clear that he would only help them if the situation became far too complicated or dangerous for them. They welcomed this, instantly regaining their confidence in what they were doing, and then moved ahead again, in the direction where the other members of their sect had gone before.

Lan Sizhui stayed behind, letting them be the ones to prove themselves. He wasn't going to take away their honors, he wasn't going to interfere in anything, knowing how important it was for cultivators younger than him to prove that they had skills that were enviable. He regretted a little that he himself had been involved in far worse things when he was their age, regretted that he had seen things that they said shouldn't happen, and at the same time was glad that some problems had been resolved.

He silently watched the struggles of the disciples wandering before him as they faced the challenges prepared by Qin Zixin, wondering how he and his friends had managed to survive these few years before. Sometimes he wondered what would have happened to them if they had been a little weaker, if others had been late after all, he wondered if the world would have been plunged into another war, into total darkness and despair that was impossible to escape from. He wondered if anything of what they knew would still manage to survive.

An exclamation of joy from one of the boys snapped him out of his reverie, and he looked in his direction, noticing that he had dealt with an opponent who had unexpectedly appeared before him. Lan Yuan smiled at the sight, enjoying the simple matter, congratulating the young man and calmly encouraging them to keep walking, trusting that they would soon be near Lan Jingyi and the other members of Gusu Lan. He paid little attention to the sect symbols that splashed countless colors across the sky, announcing more victories.

Perhaps if he focused a bit more, he would notice that there was no Lanling Jin sign among them, that there was no gold hidden among them, that there wasn't even a shadow of the peony that always bloomed so proudly on Jin Ling's chest. It was as if his men couldn't handle the task set before them or had sunk to the ground, as if someone had driven them to a place where they shouldn't be. If Lan Yuan had figured out the situation, he would even be willing to assume that Sect Leader Qin had intentionally sent them to a place where there were the least potential targets.

This wouldn't be surprising, after all, it wasn't a well-known fact that sects played all sorts of games with each other, all sorts of duels and political games to show who was the best. And it was obvious that Qin Zixin didn't have much sympathy for Jin Rulan, not to mention Lanling Jin, who, after all, had quite cruelly mocked his family and hurt it, although only through two of its members. There was no doubt, however, that everything about them was shameful, and despite the passing years, that awareness stuck with them, while Jin Guangyao's story was repeated again and again as a warning.

Few returned to Wei Wuxian, to what had happened in the days of his youth, in the days of the Sunshot Campaign itself, as if it had been superseded by something new, by more problems that couldn't be escaped in any way. The events of a few years ago were nevertheless fresher, they were closer to the next generation, who were much more familiar with the recently deceased Sect Leader Jin than the legendary, terrifying Yiling Patriarch. There was nothing amazing about this, after all, people always lived by what was closer to them, only exceptionally returning to the distant past.

Lan Sizhui looked again towards the juniors who had just run out into the clearing where they had spotted the other members of their sect, and he stopped, feeling his heart hit hard unexpectedly. It only took a few moments for him to start thinking differently about himself, it only took a few years for him to actually change completely. He had never been an incredibly confident man, but from the moment he found out who he was, he had gradually shut himself away, afraid of what he might lead to.

But now, as he watched the Gusu Lan disciples gathering together to go further into the field, as he saw their joy, their contentment and their hope that they would really prove themselves, he felt a strange prick in the pit of his stomach. He was aware that he wasn't and would never be so carefree again, that everything that had happened had robbed him of that peculiar lightness of being, that hope for peace, that the whole world was capable of living in peace. He was soaked in the awareness of evil, pain and rejection, in the awareness that it was possible to hate someone only because there was darkness lurking in someone's heart.

He breathed deeply, closing his eyes, and twitched hard when he heard Lan Jingyi calling him, talking aloud about the successes of their juniors, how well they were doing , and he was sure they could win. There was such indescribable enthusiasm hidden in it, such ordinary joy, that Lan Sizhui shook his head in disbelief, feeling that for his friend the past actually didn't matter as much as it did to him. He acted as if he was able to jump into the deep end, as if he was able to take all that life had given him and move forward with it.

He also had no idea who he really was, he didn't know his parents, he didn't remember them, and the stories from their sect members didn't help him much. He didn't know if they would be proud of him now or not, he didn't know how they would look at him, he didn't even know if they would be happy about the place he currently held in Gusu Lan. He didn't seem to care about that, though, completely as if his worries on the subject had finally disappeared, and he realized that he was who he wanted to be. That he was the man he shaped himself, the man he created himself, no matter what blood flowed through his veins.

He had freed himself from what Lan Yuan couldn't escape. It was a wonderful feeling to look at him and know that he had actually broken the bonds that bound him, that he was able to walk the path that had been laid out for him. But that wasn't all, for Lan Jingyi, like Jin Ling, was himself trying to shape that path, undoubtedly setting new directions for Gusu Lan to turn to. Both were special in their own way, both could be looked upon with pride and a shadow of admiration, and that was exactly what Lan Sizhui did, knowing how different his feelings were for them.

"You'll see, the Princess will still regret wanting to participate in this competition! I don't know what they're doing, but it's been a long time since any sign of their sect appeared. I bet they're sitting comfortably in some shelter drinking tea because they got their peacock feathers too wet, ha!" announced Lan Jingyi, patting his friend on the back, then propping himself up by his sides.

He was pleased to see the Gusu Lan disciples regrouped, had eaten hastily, and everything indicated that they intended to move on. They were ready for action, and it was highly doubtful that they wanted to stop at this point, that they wanted to give up, or consider that they had done enough. There were still demons ahead of them to defeat and spirits to draw from the hiding places they had taken for themselves. The latter, Lan Jingyi much preferred to leave to his charges, trusting that they would handle them perfectly. He, on the other hand, intended to cheer them on from a suitable distance.

As he watched the youth, however, he didn't notice how Lan Sizhui's countenance slightly hardened as he carefully looked up towards the sky, towards the rain clouds that were still billowing in the sky, trying to beat the sun. They were swollen, heavy, and almost black, with sect symbols appearing from time to time, coloring them with all possible colors for a brief moment. In fact, there was no gold to be found there, although it was known that Lanling Jin members didn't give up too quickly.

Lan Jingyi, busy with his own disciples, busy trying to show that Gusu Lan was doing really well, had apparently forgotten in his jokes that Jin Ling was no longer used to offending the whole world. He didn't step aside just because something didn't go his way, and probably the last thing he would do was withdraw his men from this particular duel just because it rained too hard or someone did better than him at the very beginning. It wasn't something that was associated with the young leader, after all, and Lan Yuan's silence seemed to have finally caused the man standing next to him to reconsider.

"Although that's odd. After all, the Princess wouldn't have gone under the first stone to see what was going on from there. And certainly not after that bloated donkey tried to tell him he was inferior for some unknown reason" Lan Jingyi muttered, scratching his head, clearly pondering the issue.

He was no longer liking what was happening, but he was far from saying that something bad could happen to their friend. Besides, he was sure that if something unexpected actually started to happen, something that could threaten his health or life, the members of Lanling Jin would immediately send out a signal flare, calling for help. It was doubtful that something that unexpected could happen within the ongoing competition, as Lan Jingyi doubted that there were demons lurking in the area capable of threatening them, but still he couldn't completely rule it out.

He glanced over at Lan Sizhui, noticing how the man's entire body tensed up, how his muscles tightened, and how the calmness that used to accompany him disappeared from his face. The man went pale, something he probably didn't realize, and he bit his lower lip very hard in an attempt to control his rapidly beating heart. But this was undoubtedly impossible, not for someone who knew what people were capable of, not for someone who remembered the cruelty he had once witnessed, not for someone who knew he had been treated like a common bait.

But there was no doubt that Jin Ling was a nuisance to some people. When his uncle died, there were people who objected to his right to inherit power. Some clearly didn't intend to recognize him as the next leader of the great sect, he was looked upon with dislike, sometimes disgust, and Lan Yuan wondered many times then if anything bad would happen to his friend. He watched him as he changed, as he began to get between people inclined to bite like snakes, believing that he could handle anything. 

Of course, it was difficult and risky for many reasons, but Lan Sizhui believed that Jin Ling could handle everything. He had people by his side who cared about him, who supported him, who stood by him, and that was the most important thing. But today, at this moment, all those worries came back to Lan Sizhui, all that pain, fear and uncertainty he had felt before, but with a force he hadn't expected. His heart was beating like crazy, though after all, he shouldn't be so nervous when they weren't even sure anything bad was happening.

After all, in the end, Lanling Jin could retreat, they could take a break to rest, or they could find themselves in a place where it was simply impossible to track and find their opponents. Lan Yuan tried to think as logically as possible at the moment, but fear was causing his hands to start trembling and bitterness to almost rise to his throat. He swallowed it all though, keeping a stony face, trying not to show how concerned he was by these simple observations that worried even the ever-amused Lan Jingyi.

In their relatively short lives, they had experienced far too much evil to overlook such small details now, something that seemingly didn't matter at all. After all, it was the same when they were captured and turned into living bait, the same when they first fought by their side, and no different when they ended up in Yi City. The small details that might have escaped them when they were inexperienced children now mattered much more.

"I'll check it out," Lan Sizhui said quietly. "Someone needs to stay with them."

Lan Jingyi squirmed slightly, because despite everything, he didn't want to leave his friend in need. They could argue with Jin Ling constantly, they could push each other around like children, but they were still not hostile to each other. This was because, in a way, it was completely normal for them and neither of them wanted to completely abandon it. Some said that the two of them were constantly fighting battles that couldn't be won, that there wasn't really any closeness between them, and thus, sooner or later, they were going to spoil the good relationship between Lanling Jin and Gusu Lan.

Nevertheless, the principal parties involved realized that similar remarks were finished rants. They could make offended faces at each other, they could look at each other with a shadow of hostility or put on proud faces, but the truth was that they were willing to fight for each other and by each other's side no matter what the circumstances. Therefore, now Lan Jingyi seemed incredibly torn and didn't quite know how he should proceed. He was aware that he was in charge of the juniors, that since he had already gone into the field with them, he shouldn't leave them to their fate. But on the other hand, he felt uneasy about what might be happening, as if he was sure they had fallen into a trap again.

However, before they could make a final decision, a crack came to their ears, and a moment later, Ouyang Zizhen appeared in the clearing. He held a weapon in his hand, and his ever dreamy gaze hardened, revealing a glint in his bright eyes that indicated nothing good. He hurriedly looked up into the sky, as if searching for something there, and then approached his friends, paying little attention to the other members of Gusu Lan, who had apparently not expected to see him here at all. They had, in fact, looked around for the rest of Baling Ouyang's disciples, but everything seemed to indicate that the sect heir had appeared here alone.

"Lanling Jin has gone outside the competition area" he said quietly as he found himself next to his friends.

Lan Jingyi snorted, wrinkling his nose slightly as he muttered quietly that this was exactly what he had expected, but he still fell silent as soon as he noticed Ouyang Zizhen's sharp gaze. The young man was far too serious to actually make jokes at this moment to accost him, asking if perhaps he felt like rescuing the Princess, who had probably fallen into some mudhole and was unable to get out of it in any way. This wasn't the time for such things, when there was really a concern about the reason for such behavior.

"Where?" only Lan Sizhui asked.

"I'll take you there. I sent my disciples back to the mansion, the barriers are breached, I have no idea what happened, but it looks strange to say the least" the heir of Baling Ouyang stated immediately. "I'm not sure if they chased something, but the footprints point to a fight, the problem is..."

"We haven't seen any signs that Lanling Jin has scored any points," Lan Jingyi interjected, then turned and whistled, waving towards the disciples. "Return to the residence immediately!"

When the juniors, somewhat confused, began to protest, the man merely remarked that they might be in danger, and he wasn't going to let anything happen to them. He summoned the eldest of them to him, ordering them to immediately return to Laoling Qin's headquarters to tell Zewu-Jun that the barriers had been broken at the competition grounds, and they went to see what had happened. He also commanded them to return in their tracks and not get into any discussions, no matter what other cultivators would expect of them. He knew that he was making the juniors disappointed, but at this moment, he was unable to do otherwise.

He looked behind them when, without a word of objection, they actually turned around to head towards the hill on which Laoling Qin's residence was located, which currently seemed to be the only safe place in the entire area. The buildings towered above the valley, above the farmlands and the forest that they had traversed since morning, chasing whatever was hiding in the twilight. At the same time, the buildings were as distant as the lonely island in the middle of the ocean that the castaways had been heading for, not knowing if they would ever reach it.

The rain began to intensify again, hitting the leaves harder and harder, pinning them to the ground and making it seem as if any moment now it would simply knock down the surrounding trees. It seeped into the ground, turning it into mud, gouging out paths that it used to escape down the slope, rushing in directions known only to itself. The suffocation that accompanied all this seemed to grow heavier with each passing moment, as if he were stretching out his sticky hands towards them, as if he wanted to weave his fingers into their hair and encircle their necks, suffocating them and not allowing them to make any movement.

However, that didn't matter to the three friends as they hurriedly headed in the direction that Ouyang Zizhen had pointed. His robes of faint green seemed to sink between the trunks of the trees he ran past without stopping. The man paid no attention at all to the twigs that were now smearing his face and hands, nor did he care that holes were appearing in his clothes as he snagged on something and simply kept moving forward. He couldn't stop now, realizing that each additional moment was too precious and could cost Lanling Jin's men far more than a lost victory.

He only slowed down when they were near the destroyed barriers, realizing that thebreach was getting bigger and bigger. They seemed to crack under the pressure of the darkness, which tried to get out of the closed area, yawning with anger and wrath, laughing straight into their faces, inviting them to dance the steps of which they didn't know. There was a deafening silence all around them, not a call of any living creature could be heard, only the rain drummed incessantly against the leaves, awakening a noise all around them that plunged them into the twilight, dropping them deep beneath the water.

Lan Jingyi cursed under his breath as he looked around, agreeing with Ouyang Zizhen that the crushed grass and broken branches did indeed make it seem as if there had been some sort of skirmish here not too long ago. However, the rain had stubbornly washed away all traces, taking with it anything that could help them, leaving them in even greater uncertainty, causing their voices to seem to freeze in their throats. The heir of Baling Ouyang admitted that he had tried to check if there were any Lanling Jin members in the area, but found none, quite as if they had all fled.

"No signal flare appeared," Lan Sizhui remarked again, feeling as if his lips had gone numb with fear.

"What else are we waiting for?" asked Lan Jingyi at virtually the same time.

He reached for his weapon and, without even looking at his friends, crossed the destroyed barrier, stepping between the broken bushes whose branches creaked ominously beneath his boots. There was nothing pleasant about this, rather everything promised that they should be wary of what they might encounter in the ominous silence and darkness that enveloped them. They wandered deep into the forest, plunging completely into the thicket, hiding under tall trees whose crowns seemed to bend down to the ground in places.

Ahead of them, rocks seemed to loom in the distance, so they had to head towards another hill that they hadn't been able to see before. The water splashed loudly as Ouyang Zizhen jumped into the stream, and regardless of the fact that his clothes had begun to rapidly seep and get even dirtier, he moved along with the flow of water, looking around him. He saw more and more signs that there had been a chase and probably a fight here, but everything seemed to indicate that the Lanling Jin members were trying to hide from something.

The heir of Baling Ouyang was almost certain that there were no spirits or demons involved here, that this wasn't something they faced every day, for in that case they would probably encounter traces of real battle, traps, talismans, anything that could actually stop the wayward spirits. Nor was he able to sense their presence, nor was he able to tell that in the darkness that surrounded them, that amidst these torrents of rain, something was moving that came from some demonic depths.

Ouyang Zizhen became increasingly concerned that what they were pursuing was definitely human shaped and scarier than anything else they had faced so far. For none of the demons he knew were intelligent enough to want to play at herding their victims into a place that was difficult to escape from. It was obvious that something like this was happening here, as they were approaching a narrow canyon that was already visible between the trees, giving the impression that there was no way out.

Only up, Baling Ouyang's heir acknowledged, and actually stopped immediately, catching deep breaths, feeling his heart begin to beat much harder than before. He remembered his father's tales of the time of the Sunshot Campaign, the time just after it, when the world seemed to even flow with blood, when anyone who was even a little sneaky counted for far more than brave warriors willing to put up a fight in the open field. Therefore, he extended his hand to the side, holding Lan Jingyi back as he did so, fearing what awaited them in a few steps.

The Gusu Lan cultivator furrowed his brows, not quite sure what his friend wanted to do now, but a moment later he drew in a deep breath, letting out an unpleasant wheeze. Looking around, he spotted an unexpected body lying among the bushes growing on the bank of the stream. It was partly hidden in the vegetation and in their mad rush they hadn't noticed it, but now Lan Jingyi knelt down beside it, putting his hand on the cold neck of the wretch. The blood that stained his golden robes spilled all around him, mixed with water and mud, and rushed onward with the stream.

There was something repulsive about it, even for someone who had already seen death, who had seen suffering, who had taken part in battles that brought nothing good but pain. However, it was different to look at someone who died under the blows of a demon and someone who died murdered in cold blood by a human. There was no doubt about it, and the blade of the narrow knife stuck in the unfortunate man's back was all too clear evidence of the crime that had been committed here. It glistened treacherously as more raindrops ran down it, mixing with the blood.

"Stop," Ouyang Zizhen said sharply, glancing at Lan Sizhui.

His friend gave him a hasty glance, clenching his jaws with all his might, knowing that he shouldn't move at the moment, that they had no idea what was in front of them, that they didn't know what was hidden there, but he couldn't wait any longer. There was a glint in his eyes that had been hard to find there before, and ignoring nothing, he moved ahead along the stream, noticing more and more signs of fighting, only to stop a moment later, noticing more dead. Some of them had their throats slit, some looked as if they had been hit during a scuffle, but in the open eyes of most of them terror was painted.

Lan Yuan clenched his hand into a fist with all his might, trying to control the anger that rose within him, the fury that began to flood him, crawling hotly throughout his body, traveling through his veins and burning every scrap of his skin. Among the dead, there were juniors who didn't even have the slightest chance to defend themselves against the treacherous blows. He preferred to not even ask if these children had tried heroically to defend their comrades, their leader, what exactly had befallen them, seeing only the destruction and pain that nothing could stop.

"They're trained," Ouyang Zizhen said, stopping beside him, looking into the narrow passage between the rocks into which their opponents, and earlier fugitives, had undoubtedly headed.

"Like any of us," replied Lan Jingyi, croaking heavily.

"No, A-Yi. They're killers."

Ouyang Zizhen furrowed his eyebrows slightly as he tilted his head, looking intently at the bodies they were next to, while feeling himself getting sick. He had already seen a lot in his life, but until now he had never personally met with such callousness, with mindlessness of another human being, who in the name of heaven knows what, was able to send others to death. Yes, he knew the history, he knew what some committed, but this still didn't fit in his head. For it was different to just listen about it, and different to look at people who lost their lives as a result of human aggression.

There was something unnatural about it, something strange, and Ouyang Zizhen had the feeling that all of it, even the smallest details, were even burning under his eyelids. The blood that soaked into the golden robes, the grimace of pain and horror that froze on someone's face, the raindrops hitting the dead eyes. There was an incredible amount of it, and each of these details made an indescribable impression on him, sinking into his memory like an image of the world's greatest despair. An insult to life. An insult to what he had considered most important up to that point.

"The others must be summoned," Lan Jingyi stated, wrinkling his nose, giving the impression that he was about to scream, sputtering angrily, and was already reaching into the sleeve of his robe when Lan Sizhui placed a hand on his palm, clasping his fingers tightly.

"No. Then you just let them know that we know someone has figured out what's going on," he said quietly.

"That's what we're after, after all! To get them and show them what we think of such...!"

"If they know we are on their trail, they will become more cruel."

"They will kill them all," Ouyang Zizhen admitted. "Unless..."

"No," Lan Sizhui interrupted him firmly.

They looked at him a little uncertainly, because there was a sharp, unprecedented note in his voice. The gentleness he had shown throughout his life was gone, too, replaced by an anger he didn't even try to hide. He believed in goodness, believed that people wanted peace, that they wanted to live in harmony with others, but apparently he imagined too much. He had the impression that some people took pleasure in being cruel, that they derived satisfaction from it, and at the moment he felt an incomprehensible urge to send those who committed such crimes to the depths of hell.

There was something strange about his firmness, something monstrously cold, something his friends didn't expect from him, but there was no indication that they were going to run from it. They had to agree with him that any sign that someone had noticed something disturbing was bringing them closer to further tragedy, so they eventually moved on ahead. They didn't stop even near the next fallen, getting the impression that this was a real pogrom, a slaughter of innocents. There weren't so many bodies, but the knowledge that these people had died for an unknown reason, made them see this as an even greater crime.

Later on, Ouyang Zizhen noticed the first body wearing different robes. They were somewhat similar in color to the ones he was wearing, but they were definitely simpler, and everything indicated that it was in vain to look for traces of any sect symbols on them. Perhaps they were drowned in the sea of blood that spilled over the material, flowing out from the dissected body, but the heir of Baling Ouyang didn't think that looking for any sign would be helpful now. He did realize, however, that in chasing after Lanling Jin's fleeing men, they might have missed the bodies of their opponents, clothed to blend in with the surrounding vegetation.

An instant later, he stopped short as he nearly collided with another fallen man. He hung slung over a tree leaning against a narrow canyon. His robes were tangled between the branches, exposing the wounds he had sustained before his death, haunting his almost completely severed head. It was a picture of unimaginable cruelty that was difficult to understand. However, Ouyang Zizhen was able to understand that when a man was fighting for his own life, he was able to reach for layers of anger and cruelty that he didn't expect from himself. This was the darkness that seemed to lurk within everyone, and he had to come to terms with it.

They might not have wanted to believe it, they might have fought with the knowledge that death surrounded them, that they were surrounded by blood that splashed the rocks, that they weren't stepping on the bodies of cultivators with whom not so long ago they had talked, at whom they had looked, wondering who would win in this friendly duel. Now they were no different from their opponents who had suffered the same, equally cruel death, suffering with their throats ripped open as they were unable to catch their breath and choking on their own blood.

They were certain that the trail of corpses they had just followed would soon lure demons and spirits into this place, eager for anger, eager for suffering, awakening something that should never have poked its head out of the darkness it inhabited. But they had no time to stop, to help, to do right by the dead, for they were chased by a growing horror. The downpour made their pursuit difficult, clouding them tightly with wet clothes, some of which they eventually discarded in order to move faster, trying to sneak between the vegetation and the rocks that seemed to be falling on their heads.

Lan Jingyi came to the fore as soon as the first shout reached him. He was drowned immediately in the pouring rain, but still the man had no intention of stopping. Eventually he had to leap forward, however, when an arrow slammed into the ground right in front of him , and he turned sharply to see his opponent on one of the rocky hills. Not thinking much about what he was doing, he sent his sword towards him, aiming at his opponent's shoulder, intending to prevent him from attacking further. He acted on impulse, however, as he realized only moments later when an arrow fired behind his back struck him in the right shoulder, causing him to groan in rage.

His weapon didn't reach its target, so gritting his teeth with all his might, he turned it to fight again, trying to ignore the pain that was spreading through his body. The rain was now falling directly into his face, making it difficult for him to actually resist, but he wasn't going to give up, even though he knew he was in an awkward position. However, he could count on his friends, who joined him almost immediately. A sudden explosion behind his back made Lan Jingyi realize that Ouyang Zizhen had used the incendiary talismans, stoking their power in an attempt to throw his opponent away from them.

The embers didn't smoulder too long in the rain, but the biting smoke that began to rise in the area effectively shielded them from the gazes of people they didn't know. Immediately, however, from between those dark clouds, a single opponent hastily emerged. His movements were monstrously fast, as if he wasn't human, as if there was no blood flowing in his veins, and the blows he delivered seemed to be faster than anything they knew. Ouyang Zizhen managed to parry one of them, deflecting the blade, knocking it out of his opponent's hand, but the other reached his thigh to slash his skin.

Fortunately, the man made a hasty half-turn in an attempt to escape the blow, and the blade didn't enter too deeply into his body. However, the impact showed that his opponent not only knew what he was doing, but intended to kill him. He only needed to aim the dagger a little lower, and it would undoubtedly hit an artery, which would tear a torrent of blood from the body of the Baling Ouyang heir. He immediately jumped forward to strike another blow before his comrades joined him, but he missed his target. Blood gushed out of his mouth and stained Ouyang Zizhen's robes, which he spat on, and a sword blade peeked out of his chest.

Lan Sizhui yanked the weapon from his body, only glancing for a moment at the body falling to the ground in convulsions. He didn't have time to focus on what he had done, didn't have time to think about whether he had done the right thing, whether it was in accordance with the principles he had been instilled with, whether it was something anyone could praise. He tightened his grip on the sword's hilt, feeling the viscosity of the blood beneath him, which a moment later began to roll down the blade, only to splash amongst the raindrops as the man struck the next blow.

Behind his back, Lan Jingyi reached for the protective talismans, trying to create at least a makeshift barrier for them by putting his body into a perfectly familiar war dance. He didn't even stop for a moment, dragging some opponents behind him, just to try and see if they would run into survivors, if they would still be able to help them. He ignored the excruciating pain spreading from his shoulder, where the arrowhead of the now broken arrow was still lodged, only hoping that they hadn't arrived too late. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Lan Sizhui begin to repeat his movements, and though they were both aware that the formation they were trying to use might prove ineffective against humans, they had to try.

"Zizhen!" shouted Lan Yuan as unexpectedly their friend flitted between them, apparently pushed in part by a force he couldn't contain.

The blow dealt to him was undoubtedly backed by great amounts of spiritual energy, which knocked the man off balance, finally throwing him to the ground, letting out a deafening groan from his throat. However, the Baling Ouyang Heir immediately rose up, rubbing his smashed lips, and would have probably attacked again had it not been for someone unexpectedly pulling him towards the ground again.

A moment later, the thrown knives struck where he had stood only a blink of an eye before. The blades slammed deep into the ground, right next to his feet, and he hastily rolled to the side, behind the rock where he had ended up with one of Lanling Jin's juniors. The boy was panting heavily, still clutching the edge of his robes, pressing a hand to his blood-broiling side. In his bright eyes lurked a terror that was indescribable, he was like a wild animal that perceived that there was no way out of the situation it was in, and Ouyang Zizhen was almost certain that just a moment more and the boy would lose consciousness.

Without thinking too much about what he was doing, he tore off a patch of cloth from his own robe to listen to what was happening next to him and hastily wrapped the Lanling Jin disciples's body, making him apply pressure to the wound and try to channel his own spiritual energy into it. A moment later, with a loud clang of steel, his sword collided with the blade of his opponent, who unexpectedly appeared behind his back. The boy's gaze told him of his presence, however, and his eyes widened in mute terror. The attack was unquestionably despicable and there was nothing honorable about it, which only reassured the man that those who now set upon them counted for nothing.

They were carrying death. Nothing could stop them, and if someone stood in their way, they were obviously going to prove that no killing was terrible for them, as if they were feeding off this carnage, this suffering and blood that seemed to be flowing everywhere in streams. Now Ouyang Zizhen felt perfectly that the battle he was fighting had only one price, only one goal, so he had to be faster. He had to be smarter, so it was no wonder that he threw another talisman in front of him, and as soon as it made contact with his opponent's clothes, it exploded with soaring flames. The man attacked at the same moment, knocking the weapon out of his opponent's hand and knocking him to the ground.

He followed immediately, only to collide with him again, severely wounding him, and then staggered backwards as the blade of his sword slid across his side. Only then did he see another warrior, who smiled mockingly at him before grabbing desperately at his throat, blood gushing from it. He grunted furiously as Lan Sizhui threw his body away from him, breathing hard, having no idea what he was feeling at the moment, no idea what was really happening to him. He made it seem like everything was just rolling past him, like it wasn't the work of his hands.

The blood that stained his white robes clearly indicated that the man wasn't going to give up after all, that he was far from gentle and knew that they were just fighting a battle to the death. Therefore, he moved almost immediately towards his opponent trying to reach Ouyang Zizhen, only to knock him down again and hit his shoulder with all his might, tearing his muscles, almost chopping off his arm with that crazy, fury-filled blow.

"There," growled the heir of Baling Ouyang, nodding toward the boy, who was still limping behind a rock, pressing his hand to his bleeding side.

Lan Yuan immediately moved towards the Lanling Jin member, reaching for the herbs he had with him, intending to ease the pain the boy must have been feeling as quickly as possible. He was unable to control his mind, crazed with fear, unable to tell him that nothing would happen, that he would survive, especially since he himself now seemed like a demon smeared with the blood of his opponents. Not to mention that when he spoke, his voice sounded like hard steel, inaccessible, even painfully sharp.

"Where is your leader?" he merely asked.

The boy, unable to make out his voice, nodded toward the narrow passage they were at. Beyond the rocks and the partially eroded vegetation, Lan Sizhui saw a narrow passageway, most likely leading directly into a cave, the size of which he couldn't now properly assess. The entrance was really narrow, a grown man could barely fit inside, and from behind it, a wall of rain, there was only an icy darkness that seemed endless. A darkness that was willing to consume him.

He didn't have to ask if Jin Ling was there alone, because the answer was almost obvious. The fallen, after all, were too few to be able to assume that the man didn't have even one man at his side. The opponents who had been hanging around in front of the cave's entrance so far were undoubtedly only guards, only those who would take care of the survivors and call for more warriors if necessary.

"Go," Lan Jingyi said, taking cover behind a rock. "More are coming."

"You can't beat them," Lan Sizhui whispered, feeling his throat tighten of its own accord.

Ouyang Zizhen smiled at him somewhat sadly, in a way that seemed to be full of a languor that couldn't be described properly, and then reminded him that they were warriors. He reached for a signal flare, immediately adding that they weren't stupid either, and extended his hand towards the Lanling Jin boy, who tried to hand him a flare with the symbols of his sect. Lan Jingyi pulled it from his sleeve and then nodded slightly, letting the symbols of Baling Ouyang, Gusu Lan, and Lanling Jin blossom in the sky, probably perfectly visible from Laoling Qin's residence.

"We don't know how many are coming," Lan Yuan noted further.

"We also don't know how many of them survived and whether Jin Ling has a chance to defend himself. Go, if we can, we will join you," replied Ouyang Zizhen.

Lan Jingyi parried quietly, merely noting that the Princess should be careful, because if anything happened to him, he would hit him extra to make him remember that such things weren't done. The smile wandering at the corner of his mouth was definitely crooked and full of sadness that he tried to hide, trying to ignore the dull pain in his shoulder, trying not to look at the wounds of the boy lying at his feet, trying not to think about how hard it would be for him to hold up the protective barriers at the moment. He closed his eyes for a moment, just to snort one last time in Lan Sizhui's direction, warning him that another moment and he himself would go and drag Jin Ling by the hair out of his hiding place.

The older man drew in a deep breath and then turned his back on his friends, trying to ignore the fear that nestled in his heart. Trying to pretend that he couldn't hear the sounds of approaching opponents that ripped through the rumbling rain, that he couldn't see the terrified gaze of that innocent boy. With his mind filled with boiling chaos, with a shriek that settled on the tip of his tongue, he stepped into the darkness that pelted him greedily, sending him to the damp rocks, wet with water and blood.

***

The darkness that surrounded him was now his friend. It shielded him from those who tried to find him, it hid him, consuming every scrap of his body, devouring his robes soaked in blood and mud, dirty from the ground, torn and worn in many places. The darkness, however, was unable to consume his shuddering breath, unable to devour his whimpering coughs, unable to control his movements as he tried to wipe the blood from his shattered temple. The place where he hid, however, was full of the constant noise and sound of drops hitting the ground, full of the rumble that accompanied the downpour trying to enter the cave through the cracks in the vault.

Right next to him lay one of his men, clenching his teeth with all his might. He had survived as the only one of the senior members of this expedition, trying to protect the juniors who had also been targeted and weren't able to defend against it as well as fully trained cultivators. However, Jin Rulan feared that the man wouldn't be able to survive a moment longer, that he wouldn't be able to continue moving, and he felt a scream begin to rise in his chest as the urge to come out of the darkness and simply throw himself at his opponents grew within him.

But if he wanted to survive, if he wanted to save his disciples, he had to act prudently, he had to try, he had to do something that wasn't expected of him. What had initially been an advantage for his opponents now became a bane for them, as they wandered around in total darkness, illuminating it with talismans and looking for fugitives who could be hiding literally anywhere. But Jin Ling didn't need light, he didn't need the fire that perhaps under other circumstances would have given him hope for survival. He needed the darkness from which he would be able to bite.

They managed to get rid of numerous opponents, but still followed by six or seven, if he wasn't mistaken, and this posed for him a considerable problem. He didn't really have anyone to count on now, the man lying next to him was undoubtedly dying, and the juniors were too frightened and untested to expect them to be crazy or heroic at all. Sect Leader Jin raised his hand to run his fingertips over his neck, as if he could again feel the string tightening around it, as if he could again feel everything he felt back then, years ago, and immediately clenched his teeth tightly.

He wasn't going to let any other child experience what he had experienced in that temple. His disciples had already seen too much, they were already aware of the deaths of their friends that they were unable to save, they already knew that there were people who weren't going to spare them. They were facing something that absolutely no one should face, but Jin Ling tried to do his best to push the immediate threat away from them, to take it upon himself. He wasn't a coward, he knew his family's history, he knew how much its members were capable of sacrificing, and he wasn't going to hide indefinitely, he wasn't going to throw his upbringing to the ground if it was the killers who came for him.

He looked out from behind the rocky crevice he was hiding behind as he noticed a flash of light, and then the sound of footsteps reached him. He held his breath for a moment while tightening his fingers on the hilt of the short knife he had managed to snatch from one of his opponents, ready to plunge it deep into his flesh, rendering him instantly lifeless. He knew exactly where to aim to gain the advantage, he knew which way to strike to hit an artery, he knew he had to jerk the blade away to keep the blood flowing.

His heart was beating like crazy, and the adrenaline coursing through his veins was undoubtedly adding to his strength, making all the wounds he had been inflicted with seem minor at the moment. He believed he could handle it, he believed he could do anything to help his people, but he preferred not to look at them. He didn't want to try to look out into the darkness for the terrified children he had planted some time ago, thus hiding them in an alcove beneath the cave's vaulted ceiling, close to the cracks they might be able to breach much harder to get out.

With his other hand he clenched the hilt of his sword with all his might, aware that once the fight began he would have to control it, that it would be his only weapon, which he could wield for some distance, leading with further and more confident blows. He abandoned the bow before entering the cave, knowing that it would be of no use to him, and would only be a nuisance, so that he wasn't left with many options for fighting. He had with him two or three arrows, which he could use as a last resort as a knife, and somewhere between them hid also a spare bowstring, which in fact he never parted with. He knew he could slit someone's throat with it, making that person a living shield, and although the thought disgusted him terribly, he knew that at this moment he simply couldn't do otherwise. He had to fight.

A glow of light moved across the rock right next to him, but then distant footsteps reached his ears, and he slowly let out the stubbornly held air. His heart was rumbling furiously in his chest as he thought about what he should do at this moment. After all, Jin Ling had already been through a lot, and he realized that sometimes you had to act far less template-like, far less normal than you thought if you wanted to survive. However, he was afraid that if he tried to destroy even part of the rocks surrounding them, he would simply bury them alive.

It was a risk he was afraid to take, despite everything. If it had been only about him, he probably wouldn't have hesitated, allowed himself to do something so reckless and crazy, maybe he would have just gotten into this mad fight without paying attention to anything, but he knew that he had people with him that he had to protect. Exactly as they had tried to shield him before, when they had been pushed into this place, when murders had been carried out before his eyes that he had been unable to stop despite his sincerest intentions. The trap they had fallen into had been perfectly thought out. 

Jin Ling wasn't quite sure at what point they had crossed the broken barrier, at which point it became clear that what he had taken as an extra challenge turned out to be a deadly danger. They had entered a place where it was difficult to fight, and his best men had unexpectedly simply been murdered. In cold blood, without a second thought, it happened so fast that virtually no one had time to react, and he still didn't know how something like that could happen. After all, they had trained for years, prepared for all sorts of clashes and came out with a good hand.

However, it was true that they didn't participate in fratricidal battles after all, and those who fought during the Sunshot Campaign didn't go with their young leader to this competition. This was supposed to be a fair duel between young cultivators, not a fratricidal fight, not an assassination attempt, not something he was just in and unable to understand what was going on around him. He felt as he had years ago, when he had been unable to accept that his own uncle had decided to use him in his skirmishes, that he had been able to deprive him of his life, just to escape, just to disappear, just to avoid punishment. At least that's how he saw it. 

Jin Ling breathed deeply, feeling like the air didn't want to enter his lungs, tensing all his muscles, knowing that he had to act fast. He was a rat being cornered now, he was an animal that had to do anything to regain his freedom, and it was making him tremble all over his body, getting the impression that spiritual energy was filling his veins. It was almost burning, ready to answer his call, to help him escape this place and get out of what seemed to be a stalemate.

Before the man could do anything, however, the sound of battle reached him. The clang of steel, a sound that he still associated with the breaking of dry twigs, he was almost certain that the unpleasant gurgling that came from a cutthroat also reached him. At first, he thought that their opponents had accidentally thrown themselves at each other, but it still seemed unreal to him. He tried to suppress the thought that maybe one of his men had survived, that he had managed to follow them and was just trying to find them.

However, the sound of the battle was only growing, making Jin Ling feel more and more clearly that he should move, that he should try to get involved in it. It wasn't that easy, not when his head started to spin , and he was more and more aware of the fact that his shattered temple wasn't just a superficial wound. The blood refused to stop flowing, and the pain became stronger and stronger as he gradually began to drift on the surface of his completely uncollected thoughts. Sect Leader Jin was at least seemingly aware that he should be able to handle such adversity, but he couldn't help the daze and weakness that filled his body as he lost more and more blood.

Probably this was the reason why he didn't notice in time the enemy approaching him. His reaction was definitely slowed down, as if everything that surrounded him, reached him as if through water, as if through a fog, through which he had to force his way with difficulty. That is why the blow reached his body without hitting his neck, but he was still severely wounded when the blade penetrated his shoulder with all its force. More than the screams of the children, he was startled by the snarling, pain-filled moans that filled the cave unexpectedly. It took a moment for Jin Ling's mind to realize that the scream had come from his throat, that it had escaped from his mouth, only to turn into a furious howl as he blindly tried to respond to the attack.

This wasn't a fair fight. However, everything that had happened since they came to Laoling Qin wasn't like this, as if the time he spent here would actually be his last moments. This thought made him laugh terribly for some reason, so he laughed throatily, spitting saliva and blood in his opponent's face, then kicked him and staggered to the rock wall. He closed his left eye as blood flooded it, trying to focus on what he saw in the twitching light of the still glowing talisman, but he was unable to determine the exact position of his opponent.

He sensed movement behind his back faster than he realized what was happening. Jin Ling was nevertheless unable to accept the fact that his men were still trying to fight for him, so when he spotted one of the juniors trying to attack one of the assassins in a desperate gesture, he hastily grabbed his arm and threw it behind him, only to groan deafeningly when the blade slammed into his side. He was sure that in a moment it would be yanked from his body, but instead, the steel slid in a little deeper, and the man who had been attacking him so far fell to the ground, right into a pool of blood.

Suihua slipped out of his hand as he tried to prop himself up against the rock wall. The young leader was too stunned to be able to tell what was happening, he only stared wide-eyed at the man who was leaning towards him, still holding a weapon in his hand. His white robes were now splashed with blood, soaked with it, giving the impression that the material was a deep red color, only fueled by the dying flames. And although the man's voice was familiar, although he softly spoke his name, Jin Ling was unable to understand for a long moment that he had Lan Sizhui in front of him.

He grabbed onto him, somewhat shrinking as he pulled Jin Ling towards him, making him lean against his chest to try and see if he could help him somehow. It was still dark in the cave, however, and the sound of hurried footsteps indicated that the other opponents had already figured out where they were. Lan Yuan also feared that some of them had managed to break through the barriers set up by his friends, he feared that they too might be badly injured, and although he had no intention of retreating, his heart was beating like mad.

"A-Ling" he repeated softly, drawing the young leader even closer, seeking his hand.

He still clenched his fingers tightly on the hilt of the sword that was now his only weapon. He could still try to reach for the familiar melodies that he could hum continuously for a long time, but he knew that acting this way didn't have as much power as when he could play them on the guqin, when he could get the right sounds out of the strings.

"The juniors... are... behind... us," growled Jin Rulan, half-conscious.

Lan Sizhui glanced towards the darkness, spotting the boy whom Sect Leader Jin had cast aside barely moments before, and hastily asked him if he had any herbs with him. He knew that he didn't have time to prepare bandages, that the only thing he could do at the moment was to transfer his own spiritual energy to his friend, but he had to force the others to do something. He didn't want them to run out of their hiding place, he didn't want them to interfere in the fight because they would only get in his way. So he ordered the boy to step back and take care of the herbs, while also commanding them to try to light up this part of the cave.

There was nothing else he could do, and the protective barriers couldn't be set up so easily alone, so he had to rely on what they had at the moment. They couldn't afford more, and time was shrinking mercilessly, especially since out of the corner of his eye Lan Sizhui could already see their opponents approaching them. He finally reached out to Jin Ling's wrist to transfer his spiritual energy to him right away, hoping that it would help him heal the wounds he had sustained, then clenched his teeth with all his might as he looked at the people who had appeared in the circle of faint light cast by the burning fire.

They gave the impression of demons that weren't only ready to rip them to shreds, but were also incredibly pleased with what they had accomplished. There was something repulsive about them, something that made Lan Yuan feel his whole body suffer. He had seen what they had brought them to, and nothing could stop him when he fought them, but only now, looking at them, looking into their faces, did he realize how monstrously and deeply he hated them. It seemed to him until now that he hadn't known this feeling, and perhaps he had, but now everything had changed.

When he was younger, he couldn't fully comprehend how Wei Wuxian had managed to transform Wen Qionglin, how it was that Wen Qionglin still persisted, as if the anger in his heart was unable to burn out. But now he understood it fully, finally seeing what true fury was, what anger was that couldn't be wiped away in any way, and although he knew the rules perfectly well, although he knew that one couldn't give in to emotions, at the moment he didn't care one bit. Not when he felt Jin Ling breathing heavily, not when he saw the bodies of the murdered, not when he saw that there was no rescue for them.

He could still try to explain their opponents, he could try to tell himself that there was something good lurking in them, that there was some desire for a better tomorrow, but he wouldn't believe it. There was no way to convince him that the people before him were even minimally good, that there was something lurking in them that could be described as right. For seeking justice, whatever that justice might be, couldn't look like that, and there was only a primal, savage sharpness in their actions, a joy in killing that was painted on their faces.

A joy that was lightened as soon as the Lanling Jin juniors complied with Lan Sizhui's request, and the surrounding area lit up with more talismans, allowing him to see his opponents, allowing him to see their weapons and the movement options they had at their disposal. There was no doubt that they were in far more favorable positions, besides they had nothing to fear for, apparently willing to die to achieve their goal. They also hoped that they could easily deal with a single opponent, no matter who it was. The blow they had dealt to Jin Ling had been so painful and effective that the young leader had actually lost any chance of defending himself properly, so they were apparently confident that they could do something similar with Lan Yuan as well.

The man felt his lips twist into a smile he had no control over, completely, as if he had decided in that one moment that there was nothing left to stop him. The anger that burned in his veins was undoubtedly terrible, but it was the realization that all he could do now was try to defend himself against the attack, that all he could do now was kill those who wanted to kill him and the members of Lanling Jin, that pushed him forward.

Jin Rulan slid out of his arms as Lan Sizhui took a simple leap at his first opponent. The sword he sent forward stabbed the second man, and he attached the talisman to the clothing of the man he was standing beside. The material immediately caught fire, gushing high, and the Gusu Lan member flashed past, whistling quietly. He was aware that Lan Jingyi had done better with similar music control, but right now he simply had no choice. All that was left for him was a war dance that could bring not only suffering but death to his opponents.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed how the Lanling Jin juniors were pulling their leader away, how they were nonetheless preparing to defend him, and the blood in his veins became even hotter. His spiritual energy not only flashed through his hands, it flowed with every sound he made, which seemed to vibrate in the air, hovering, humming furiously, like a flock of fowl ready to peck at people's eyes. The blood that stained his robes seemed not only sticky but strangely heavy, and the aftertaste was monstrously bitter, filled with a stench of fear that Lan Sizhui simply couldn't smell at the moment.

He resembled a demon that nothing could stop, a demon that simply flashed ahead, reaping its own harvest, reaching for whatever it needed at the moment. The man was aware that with his behavior, with this hatred and bloodlust, he was probably attracting spirits here, willing to do the work, but at the moment it didn't matter to him. His ears were buzzing, his hands seemed to tremble and go numb, but he didn't stop even for a moment, taking the blows but not feeling them, as if they were passing through him without hurting him.

Lan Sizhui thought of nothing. The world around him simply ceased to matter, it seemed to flow past him, with no clear meaning, no clear purpose, everything around him was just a blur of color that changed with his every movement. He didn't even hear anything being said to him, he didn't hear the calls, he didn't hear the screams of pain and rage, he had no idea that he himself was making them too, as if in this way trying to relieve his wounded, tired body.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw several juniors rush at his wounded opponent, knocking him to the ground in an attempt to prevent him from continuing the fight. The fire burned all around them, rising and falling, as if it were about to die out completely in a moment, leaving them in utter, unpredictable darkness. Lan Sizhui knew that his actions would be hindered then, but he didn't want to stop, not now when he was hurting his opponents in a furious rage, not when he was throwing them away, not caring if he accidentally hurt them excessively. For the first time in his life he felt no sorrow at the thought of another's death, and perhaps if he had had the strength to think about it, he would have been horrified by this line of reasoning.

When he realized that he was the only one still standing on his feet, he drew in air violently, feeling it struggling to enter his lungs at the same time. Everything was burning him, burning him outright, and the anger that had driven him so far, that raging fury, was still smoldering, almost bringing out a darkness he didn't want to succumb to. Still, he didn't care as he stepped on the arm of the opponent he had knocked down, still being held down by the juniors, gritting his teeth with all his might, unsure if he should get them out of here or wait to see what happened next.

"A-Ling," he said quietly, not even entirely sure if any word came out of his mouth.

He could see perfectly well what the young leader looked like at the moment, he could see the blood pouring down his face and he seriously considered what to do next, especially since he was aware that they were still vulnerable to attacks from their opponents. He wasn't sure if they wouldn't be joined in a moment by more bloodthirsty people that he couldn't recognize. However, he had to admit that he didn't focus on their faces, he didn't even focus on their way of fighting, by which he would undoubtedly be able to recognize where they actually came from.

To him, they had become a shapeless mass that threatened their lives, that threatened Jin Ling's life, and there was simply no room for something like that. Lan Sizhui didn't even realize how primal instincts could hide in his heart, how easy it would be for him to drown out logic, how easy it would be for him to shed human habits, human reflexes. When it came to survival, however, he found that everything became less important than the desire to live, to protect those who mattered most to him.

As soon as he saw the opponent held by the juniors trying to break free, trying to reach for the weapon that probably none of them had seen, he reacted almost instinctively. He attacked him, not waiting for any other reaction, not waiting for Jin Rulan's words, also not caring about the screams that were coming from the juniors' throats. Lan Yuan was aware that they must have been terrified, that what was happening around them was far beyond their wildest expectations, reaching further than their imaginations could reach. They were now taking part in something they couldn't understand, and he couldn't explain it to them.

He felt the same way when they were caught and made into bait, when they were locked up in the Burial Mounds, when it seemed to him that there was really nothing more waiting for them. Still, it was different to fight the living dead, it was different to stand against their hatred, against someone who hadn't breathed in a long time, and it was different to rip the life out of someone who only moments before was laughing and throwing out at least offensive taunts. It was different to look into the eyes of a living person, seeing the glow slowly fade in them.

The man trembled and jerked when he realized someone had placed a hand on his leg. He turned hastily to look at Jin Ling, who was clenching his teeth with all his might. He seemed to be trying to say something, but Lan Sizhui couldn't hear a single word coming out of his mouth at the moment, all he could hear was a noise and an unpleasant gurgling that spread in furious waves throughout his body. It seemed to flood him not only with a wave of fury and terror, but also with a pain he hadn't realized before.

"Breathe," Sect Leader Jin growled, closing his eyes for a moment.

He could hear the calls of their friends who had managed to force their way through the narrow passage only moments before, he even thought he saw a glow of light coming from the direction from which they were coming, but he could have been wrong. For these could only be his wishes, his hopes and desires, which he was now unable to control. For he still felt pain and fear, unable to control his surroundings, unable to really watch over his people, let alone know how he was supposed to stop Lan Yuan.

He had never seen him like he was at this moment, filled with anger, whirling among his opponents like the demon he resembled in those robes bathed in blood. Jin Ling himself didn't know what he should think about it, how he should look at it, because he didn't see the man as someone evil, he didn't look at him through the prism of his birth, seeing him as the man he just became, seeing him as his friend. Perfectly trained, perfectly prepared to teach the next generation of cultivators.

"A-Yuan" he spoke again, then coughed, trying to sit up.

Lan Sizhui knelt beside him again, embracing him and pulling him close, smiling faintly at his protests, at the way he puffed out his cheeks, mumbling something about how he was fine. The obvious nonsense made the older man's heart beat faster, reminding him again of how close he still was to losing Jin Rulan. He looked over at the juniors, who were hastily trying to prepare the proper herbs, but seeing their dismay and trembling hands, Lan Sizhui realized that it wouldn't help at all, that they couldn't handle it and wouldn't make it.

Therefore, he reached again for Jin Ling's hand, which the latter tried to snatch from him, pointing out to him that he should keep his spiritual energy to himself, that he should take into consideration that behind their friends, more opponents might have entered the cave. It could be seen that Sect Leader Jin was also trying to raise his head high, as if in this way he intended to demonstrate his strength, his stubbornness, his unwavering hope that he could handle literally anything.

As a result, they tugged at each other for a long moment, until finally Jin Ling threw his arms around Lan Sizhui's neck, pulling him close, trying to rest his forehead against Lan Sizhui's forehead, which only caused him to grimace in pain. Each successive movement made him more and more sick, and his body seemed to tremble in a way that couldn't be helped. He could hear their opponents groaning and cringing, expecting them to crawl towards him like ugly vermin intent on their destruction, from which there was no escape.

The sound of hastily approaching footsteps only grew, as did the calls of their friends, who may have already spotted them. That was something Jin Ling didn't know as he tried to focus his gaze on Lan Yuan, placing a hand on his cheek dirty with blood. He immediately felt the man's fingers tighten on his fingertips, watching him intently as if waiting for some words from him, assuring him quietly that he would get him out of here in a moment, that they would return to Laoling Qin's residence where the medics would take care of him properly.

"Sure," snorted Sect Leader Jin.

Unlike his friend, he was aware of exactly what kind of trap he had walked into, he had already managed to figure out who was after his life and who he should really watch out for. He was aware of what was going on around him, albeit not in the least bit pleasant. He closed his eyes, and as he looked at Lan Sizhui again, he became aware of how the latter was clenching his teeth tightly, how he was furrowing his brow, trying to keep himself from having another outburst, from saying words dictated by anger.

He could feel his heart beating hard, right beside him, crashing into his chest like a crazed bird that nothing could stop or release. Therefore, he admitted that among the people attacking them were, in his opinion, members of Laoling Qin. He didn't know if he had made himself clear enough, as his mind was once again clouded by a fog that he was unable to control, but given how strongly Lan Yuan had drawn him in, it was likely that his explanation had hit fertile ground. Jin Ling, however, didn't have the strength at the moment to figure out what had actually happened, why certain things were the way they were, why he found himself in this place and not another.

In fact, he could tell that he wanted to sleep. He knew he couldn't afford it now, but he nevertheless moved a little closer to Lan Sizhui, still trying to put on a good face, showing with his whole self that he felt fine, that nothing was threatening him, that everything was under control. He realized that it was completely different, that he could slip to the edge of consciousness at any moment, but he didn't want to worry his friend more. He didn't want him to cause more pain because of him.

"Maybe... maybe Uncle was right... and I should break all of you... legs," he said, looking closely into his eyes.

Lan Yuan wrinkled his nose visibly, feeling himself involuntarily smiling at him. He was aware that Jin Ling was offended, that his pride was suffering at the moment, that he felt weak and was probably reproaching himself for not managing to help everyone, for not saving his people and getting them into trouble. He knew him too well not to know how his friend thought, not to know that underneath the complacency and insult he still sometimes showed, like a little child, there was something more. Besides, his attempts to show that everything was okay, his attempts to focus on the conversation, allowed Lan Sizhui to still channel spiritual energy into him, to keep him conscious, though Jin Ling seemed to be concentrating on something else entirely.

"You must have broken some," he stated to an almost silent groan.

He realized how awful that sounded, but not only did he not have a sense of humor, he also didn't have the slightest desire to have similar words and conversations right now. He couldn't take what had happened lightly, he was also afraid of what was to come, and he didn't know if he could reconcile with himself. He felt a taste of incredible bitterness on the tip of his tongue as he realized that the world around him wasn't at all as good as he wanted to believe.

Since the day Jin Guangyao died, everything seemed to be gradually moving in the right direction, but now it had fully come to him that people, no matter what, don't really change. There had always been darkness in them, and it would probably always stay that way, even if someone tried to change it, if someone tried to convince them that peace was the best possible option. He closed his eyes, trying to chase away the thought that wasn't leading to anything good, and realized that Jin Ling had laughed quietly.

He glared at him, not understanding his reaction at all, pressing his hand firmly against his cheek, trying to impart even more of his own spiritual energy to him, to which the man wrinkled his nose with difficulty, then snarled. He told him to stop, and since Lan Sizhui clearly wasn't going to do that, Jin Ling, not quite realizing what he was doing, leaned towards him a little harder, trying to yank his hand away. He grabbed his lower lip with his fingers, growling at him unintelligibly and mumbling something about how he was an idiot.

Lan Yuan blinked, trembling heavily under his touch, realizing that he was reddening up to the tips of his ears at the moment. However, he couldn't help but feel a fire ignite violently in his heart that nothing could quench, almost completely extinguishing all of his previous fears and doubts, reigniting the terror he had felt when he realized what danger lurked in Jin Ling's wake. Reason slept soundly as he, led by emotions he couldn't control, leaned in slightly to kiss the younger man.

He had expected virtually everything, but not that Sect Leader Jin would be attracted to him. That he would try to do so by responding to his kiss. Clumsily, completely incoherently, as if he didn't know what he was actually doing, but there was nothing strange about that. They both followed what their crazed minds dictated at the moment, followed what they had been hiding for a long time, wandering around each other like wild animals who didn't know if they had accidentally stepped into hostile, unfriendly territory. They kept their distance, at the same time moving towards each other, racing like the sun with the moon, without ever really being able to meet.

Jin Ling could feel Lan Yuan's lips trembling, could feel his feverish breathing, and was aware that if he could, he would probably take him somewhere far away from here. He could also taste the blood that stirred on their lips, that rolled down his chin along with his saliva, holding his breath for a moment, causing his heart to freeze before it began to beat even faster, before he began to realize that he was once again surrounded by nothing but noise and a whirring that he didn't even understand.

Sect Leader Jin moved his fingers desperately over the other man's cheek, trying to stay by his side, trying not to lose consciousness, trying to survive what was just happening. He didn't want his body to force him to sleep, but there was no force that could stop him from doing so. He tightened his suddenly numb fingers on Lan Sizhui's ribbon and hair, only to be pulled inertly back a moment later, not knowing what he was actually doing. He was also unaware of the man desperately calling his name, unaware that someone had rushed towards them, unaware of the fight and the subsequent people who appeared in the cave.

An impenetrable darkness enveloped him. And silence.

***

Most people used to say that revenge was sweet. However, Jin Ling didn't see anything satisfying in it and rather saw it as a sad, bitter necessity that didn't lead to anything good. Perhaps he had simply been through too much, perhaps he had far too many problems and failures behind him to be able to look calmly at people who were chosen to be punished for their shameful actions. It was hard to even say that he felt any satisfaction.

He was tired. Not only physically, after all his wounds hadn't yet healed, he still found it difficult to lie down, to fight off the headache, to get rid of the feeling that the shattered bones were constantly moving under his skin, crackling ominously and snapping at each other. He also felt as if he had completely lost his emotions, as if someone had stripped him of his right to speak, as if he had been pushed into the darkness in which he wanted to remain. The medics said there was nothing unusual about it, and he just needed time to recover, for his mind to start working again with the same clarity as before.

However, Jin Ling wasn't convinced about this. Something, although he didn't know himself what, had changed inside him irrevocably. Probably because of this, he looked at the members of Laoling Qin and Sangqiu Wu blankly, having a strange urge to laugh whenever he realized that they were disturbed by Lanling Jin's wealth, that they wanted more glamour, more land, that they wanted what was within reach but couldn't reach.

The people, the young leader recognized, had apparently not changed at all. They always wanted power, they always wanted bigger lands, riches and fame, and they didn't care at all how they could get it. The end justified the means. It was a story as old as the world itself, and Jin Ling could swear that it would never change, that while people would promise never to repeat their shameful acts, that they would never allow it, they would quietly act exactly the same way.

He closed his eyes, feeling a monstrous weariness, and then leaned back slightly, supporting himself against the pillows. The words spoken by Nie Huaisang and the other sect leaders blended together into a noise from which he was unable to make sense, but he was too tired to be able to concentrate at all on what was happening around him. It was known that he expected to be punished, it was also known what awaited someone who wanted to stage a coup, and considering how many members of Lanling Jin had died in this senseless fight, Jin Ling didn't even have to say out loud what he wanted.

If this was revenge, it was indeed monstrously bitter. It was actually nasty, it seemed to stink, it seemed to be so pathetic that the man didn't even know how he should describe it. He didn't feel even a shadow of satisfaction, didn't feel fulfilled in any way, measuring himself only with the feeling that he had failed, that his men had died only because they had accompanied him on that foul day. Only because he had allowed himself to be drawn into a trap that had been deliberately laid for him, exploiting his weaknesses. 

His friends also suffered. They fought stubbornly, not caring what happened to them, which made him fearful and constantly reminded him that because of him, because of their willingness to help him, the two sects could lose their heirs in the last days. This, in turn, added bitterness to his thoughts and feelings, adding to his resentment, fear, and suffering, which he was unable to grasp with his heart or his confused mind. At the same time, it caused Jin Ling to feel a growing rebellion within him, an anger that would probably result in further decisions.

He twitched slightly when he realized someone had touched him, and looked at his uncle out of the corner of his eye. He could clearly see Jiang Wanyin watching him closely, how he seemed to be following his every move, every curve of his lips and tremble of his hand, clearly afraid that he might lose him. Sect Leader Jin was unaware that the man had been involved in the fighting outside the cave, that he had been the first to rush there as soon as he spotted the signal flares. He knew, however, that his uncle hadn't abandoned him and cared for him, making sure he was cared for by the best medics.

"Rest," Sect Leader Jiang said quietly.

Under different circumstances, if he were younger, Jin Ling would probably lift his head proudly, claiming that he could handle anything, that something like now couldn't break him in any way. Make him tired. To make him feel distasteful, to make him angry with himself and the whole world around him. But he was too mature for that, had lived through too much and knew the history too well not to know how similar behavior could end for him. Therefore, he smiled with just the corner of his mouth at his uncle and nodded slightly.

He didn't feel that the deliberation needed to be interrupted. He wasn't the Chief Cultivator and his presence here wasn't necessary, and as soon as Nie Huaisang assured him that it would be better for him to rest rather than look at people who, dreaming of power, forgot about human feelings, he bowed slightly and left the room. He felt the bitterness caused by Sect Leader Nie's last words, and felt the anger that still smoldered within him as he realized that despite what had happened years ago, some people were still willing to kill to get the precious books. To get more gold, to claim more lands, as if boasting about it to the common people would help anything.

Jin Ling also had to admit that he felt a monstrous weight on his shoulders, he felt irritated whenever he thought about how difficult it was to actually manage a large sect. It wasn't just power, it was constantly thinking about the weak, making sure that the disciples had everything that could help them grow, and taking care of the people who approached him for help. It was constantly looking around you, making sure you were safe, that no blow was coming, that no disaster was coming.

The young leader touched his temple, where he still had the bandage on, feeling his head begin to ache anew. He was tired, and his irritation wasn't helping him at all. He didn't have the strength to think about all of this right now, didn't have the strength to lean into Qin Zixin's annoying claim that after all, Lanling Jin had everything while they had nothing. He couldn't stand his anger when he claimed that he was only taking back what he was entitled to after the way his aunt had been treated. It wasn't even revenge, Jin Ling couldn't call it that, it was some sick need, a sick desire that others were drawn into as well.

The world, apparently, was too small for some people, and other people's suffering didn't matter to them. Death was nothing, it was as simple as a spit, it was uncomplicated and didn't carry something that was irrevocable. Jin Rulan growled, then slammed with all his might into the wall he had stopped at, trying to call himself to order. He breathed deeply, only to look at Lan Sizhui a moment later, who had stopped in front of him, looking at him carefully. There was a concern hidden in his eyes that he couldn't hide, hidden questions that he didn't ask for now, seeing Jin Ling shake his head slightly.

However, that didn't stop him from pulling the younger man closer to him, to put his arms around him and allow him to rest his head against his shoulder. Lan Yuan closed his eyes, touching his nose to his temple, on which he then placed a soft, trembling kiss, smiling uncertainly as soon as he felt Sect Leader Jin's fingers tighten on his robes. He twitched immediately slightly when he felt him pull at his hair and the ribbon tangled with it, apparently trying to wrap it around his fingers, which he moved up his back.

"A-Ling..." he muttered, somewhat uncertainly, trying to look at him.

He saw a clear glint in his dark eyes, and a moment later Jin Ling puffed up his cheeks, as if to tell him that he shouldn't be so rebellious, that he wasn't doing anything wrong after all. Not after what had happened in the cave, which Lan Jingyi had kindly commented on almost constantly, making jokes about it and accosting them at every turn, also suggesting to Ouyang Zizhen that they should probably start thinking about some serious gifts. He did it in good faith, of course, muttering once that he was actually glad, although he hoped it wouldn't affect anything, because he didn't feel like having to hide if they happened to get together for some more romantic elation.

The heir of Baling Ouyang was a bit more gentle in his demeanor and remarks, but it could still be seen that he treated all of this as something incredibly exciting. It was as if there wasn't only something heroic, but also something romantic in this frantic pursuit of his friend, in these losing battles. It was true that Ouyang Zizhen didn't say much out loud, but his somewhat dreamy gaze expressed much more than the nonsense spoken by Lan Jingyi, who never knew at what point he should actually fall silent.

Lan Sizhui felt himself blush slightly, but he smiled at the younger man nonetheless, knowing that the man needed closeness, that he needed something to at least distract him a little from the suffering he was witnessing. In their pain, they also needed joy and laughter, they needed faith in the better future they could still build. Jin Ling wasn't the only one who wanted this, he wanted it too, knowing that there would come a day when they would sit side by side and tell each other what they had felt that afternoon, what they had been afraid of and what fear still remained in their hearts.

But this wasn't the moment, this wasn't the moment, this wasn't the time to let it all break free from its tether. Only now did they feel safe, only now did it fully dawn on them that they had overcome the storm, that they had survived the darkness, that they had survived suffering and pain, anger and rage they hadn't expected. Only now did they realize that in the midst of all the stormy ocean of problems and doubts, they actually had each other, though none of them dared admit it out loud.

Lan Sizhui raised his hand slowly to carefully loosen the ribbon, still looking at Jin Ling, who was actually not moving at all. The young leader stared at him silently, and although his cheeks were covered with an increasingly clear and treacherous blush, there was no indication that he intended to run away. He merely tightened his fingers on the narrow material as the ribbon finally slipped from the other man's forehead, moving freely across his closed eyes and slightly parted lips.

He kissed him before the fabric finally slid down Lan Sizhui's neck. That was why he felt his lips chill as he drew the older man to him, believing in that moment that life sometimes wrote happy endings after all.