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Chapter Text

|| Deep in a cavern, there was room that held a dead body laying in a loosely covered coffin, surrounded by talismans that had been scrawled on using blood. It seemed like someone was trying to summon back a spirit into the body, and - slowly but surely -  a barely visible wispy thing started floating into the cavern, into the room. It stopped for a moment, regarding the body before flying into it, a wind blowing the talismans around before things stilled for just a moment. The stillness only lasted for a moment before the talismans suddenly started to rip apart by themselves, their use fulfilled as the lid of the coffin went flying off from a kick, splintering against the ground with a resounding crack.

A hand reached out and grabbed the side of the coffin, pulling the body up into a sitting position, long black hair hanging like a curtain in the face of the male fierce corpse that had just revived. He looked to his right arm, flexing his fingers to make sure they worked before looking to his left arm, doing the same thing. It took him a moment, but he awkwardly started to stand up, swaying a bit and stumbling as he stepped out of the coffin, falling to the floor with a grunt before forcing himself to stand, breathing hard.

He was aching, he hurt... and something in his head was telling him what to do, where to go, in such a soft and stammering voice... causing him to reach his hand to the back of his head, feeling through his hair.

Upon feeling something hard, he grasped it and started pulling, drawing out a cry of pain as the long, dark Skull-Piercing Nail finally came out. Gasping for air, he grabbed another and pulled it out as well, his anguished cries echoing off the cavern walls as he pulled a total of seven nails from his skull. Finally, after another check, they were all finally out, dropping all of the bloodied Skull-Piercing Nails to the floor, the voices in his head finally silencing as he stood straighter. He checked over himself, at any wounds he had when he was still alive. Most of them were healed over, only deep scars remaining before shifting the right shoulder of his robes, looking at his right arm... where the arm had been stitched back, the scar showing where it had been separated. He then looked to his left hand, where he flexed his fingers, the smallest of which sat stiff, a false finger within the black, single-finger glove. He then opened his robes, looking down at the two chest wounds he had as well as the many smaller scars that riddled his chest, and knowing that there were matching wounds on his back, closed it back up before looking around.

Eyes narrowing, he made his way towards the entrance of the cavern, shielding his face from the brightness of the sun until his eyes adjusted, lowering his arm once he could see, spotting a tiny trail leading down to a small town, looking out over the familiar landscape of Qinghe, the fortress of the Unclean Realm standing tall in the distance.

A slow smirk started crossing the man's face, resting an all-too familiar sword over his shoulder, a soft chuckle slowly turning into a menacing laughter that could impart unease in anyone who heard it. As he started walking down the trail, a man ran up towards the trail, possibly having seen the spirit go into the cave and not come out, spotting him and stopping in his tracks a bit too long. Before he could decide to head back, the fierce corpse lunged at him with a speed that caught the man off guard, causing him to be run through with the sword, a familiar voice whispering in his ear.

"I was getting bored in that cavern... now I have some entertainment~!"

The sword slashed through him, blood spattering against the dirt, then through anyone else who came to investigate. He quickly followed a fleeing woman, cutting her down at the entrance of the town before setting his sights on the people, on the small clan that decided to try to take shelter in one of the notorious clan's territory... but it was no use. The fierce corpse in front of them did not fear the Nie Clan, nor the cultivators that rushed him. It didn't even take most of the day to exterminate this pathetic excuse for a clan, erasing their name from the history books as he started walking along the path leading to other parts of the Nie Clan's territory. He had several scores to settle... especially with a certain Lanling Jin leader, unaware of the leader's true fate.

Xue Yang was back as a conscious Fierce Corpse... and someone was responsible for his return. ||

Jin Ling grit his teeth as Fairy stood in front of himself and Lan Sizhui, barking at them and only calming down the further back they stepped from the cavern entrance. Whatever was in there... the spirit dog didn't want them anywhere close. They had gone over on a whim due to rumors circulating that the old abandoned cavern had been used recently, so it was kind of understandable that Fairy did not want them close... they had no way to defend themselves at the moment, just their swords. No protective talismans, no qin on Lan Sizhui's part, nothing... but that never stopped him! He wasn't a scared little boy, he was the future clan leader of Lanling Jin, and he would show his overbearing uncle Jiang Cheng that he could handle these kinds of situations---

"Maybe we should come back at a later time..." Sizhui was saying, pulling Ling from his thoughts and turning his attention to the young Lan, eyebrows furrowing and lips pursing.

Sizhui could sense the accusation question on Ling's tongue before the Jin heir could even open his mouth, shaking his head. "We came here without anything or anyone else but ourselves. If there's really something in there that's worrying Fairy to the point that he isn't even letting us within five feet of the entrance, then we're no match the way we are right now. Our swords are powerful, but what good will they do if there's nothing else like protection talismans or calming music to support them?" He asked, making the Jin heir pause a moment, a looming tirade of 'I can handle this damn it' instantly being squashed by the logical question. The Lan disciple was right... as much as he loathed to admit it, even if it was Sizhui, admitting that he was wrong was always hard for him to do. If anything went wrong while they explored, then not only would the Lanling Jin Clan lose their heir and one of the last of the Jin royals, but also... his other uncle, Wei Wuxian, would go through the grief of losing more family that he had given his life to protect all over again. Ling and Sizhui... they were some of the only family Wuxian had left, with Jiang Cheng still on the fence about how he felt not helping.

Damn it...

"Fine," Ling finally relented with an annoyed groan, Sizhui giving him a small smile that calmed him down a little as Fairy also calmed down, laying at their feet but still between them and the cavern entrance. "Fine, let's head back, get something to eat, and actually plan to come back more prepared," He then added, Sizhui nodding and whistling for Fairy, who was instantly by their sides as they went back through the trail they had used to get there. It was a different trail that they had used, meaning that the two Juniors completely missed the death and destruction that the newly risen Xue Yang had wrought upon the small village and the minor clan at the base of the hill.

Chapter Text

|| Xue Yang was in a bit of a predicament. He had absolutely no idea how he had gotten to the city where he had been captured, but what he did know was that he was just laying on his back on the ground, with people walking by him, oddly unbothered by his appearance, sparing him just a glance or two before moving on with their duties. He carefully sat up, looking at himself before finally getting to his feet, noting that he was wearing what he had been wearing at the time of his capture. His confusion only grew before deciding to explore, maybe that would give him clues as to what the hell was going on.

It took a moment, but he slowly started to realize that time was a little... wonky. It seemed normal most of the time, but whenever he saw flashes of white robes, everything started to slow down, and his walking felt heavier, as if he was wading through waist deep water. Something started clawing its way up him, something cold that gripped him and didn't let go; dread. But why? He was Xue Yang, he didn't dread anything, he did not fear, he did not feel guilt about the crimes he committed!

... guilt?

Why was it that that one little word had caused the cold feeling to become even colder?

He swallowed thickly as another flash of white caused his steps to drag, as if his body did not want to continue moving until the white robes were out of sight. He knew those robes too... but they were the robes before--- damn it. DAMN IT! He opened his mouth to curse, to yell, vent his frustrations, but nothing came out. Not even a squeak escaped him, making his eyes widen in shock. He desperately reached up to feel his throat to make sure it was still there. Why couldn't he speak? Everyone else around him were talking idly, why couldn't he? He then took the time to actually look at the people around him, eyebrows furrowing. A few in the distance on top of a tall hill... he just barely recognized them, everyone he could recognize were far from him; Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji, Jiang Cheng, Song Lan, Little Blind A-Qing, Jin Guangyao, Jin Guangshan, the others of the Lanling Jin Clan, Wen Ning, Wen Qing, the other Wen Remnants, Nie Mingjue's Fierce Corpse, Nie Huaisang, the Nie Clan members who had helped in his capture, those damned Juniors from Yi City - Jin Ling, Lan Sizhui, Lan Jingyi, Ouyang Zizhen. There were more behind them, but they were too hard to make out just who was who. He had no idea why they were there or why they were so far away, no idea why it felt like someone was missing.

Everyone else close, all of the townspeople who walked by him, were just generic people...

Except for those damned white robes.

Now he knew why it felt like someone was missing from the hill.

They were directly in front of him now, time slowing to almost a stand still as his body suddenly froze. Try as he might, it would not move, not forwards, not even backwards. He was stuck, breathing starting to pick up as the person in the white robes started to walk backwards towards him, eyes widening. The cold feeling of dread, fear, guilt covered him like a thick blanket, smothering him, suffocating him as the man in the white robes turned towards him, empty eye sockets staring directly into his soul, blood leaking down his cheeks and over the open bloody slash in his neck as his lips parted. As the ground below Xue Yang opened up, swallowing him down into the darkness, his right arm was torn off and blood spilled out of his mouth as that deep, elegant voice he knew all too well bellowed out.

"XUE YANG!" ||

Xue Yang jolted out of sleep, jerking upright with a sharp gasp, a thin layer of cold sweat covering his body, dampening the sleep robes he had been wearing and the bed he had been sleeping in. He winced, a hand going to the side of his face where he had hit the wall due to his sudden movements, his temple stinging and throbbing for a moment before calming to a dull ache. His hair was a mess, the bed was a mess, his eyes stung, it felt like it was hard to breathe, it felt like there was a weight crushing him from the inside...

A nightmare.

He finally got control over his breathing, laying back down in the bed and staring at the ceiling of the little inn he was staying at. He held his hand up, the one that the cart had ran over when he was only seven, staring at it, at what was left of the pinky that was permanently stuck in one position, a wooden prosthetic that had been crudely crafted in a rush. Guilt... he was guilty of many things, yes, but he had never truly felt guilty about them. In his mind, everything he did was for a reason, justifying mentally that the people had deserved it... but he was slowly realizing that maybe he felt guilty about one thing, and even then he didn't know what exactly he had felt guilty about. He just knew that it involved one man.

One man who, at that very moment in time, was too far for him to reach and probably would be for a very, very long time... maybe even forever.

And it had been all his fault, all because he wasn't ready for the emotions and had violently lashed out -physically, emotionally, and mentally - as he always did.

Letting out a soft sigh, Xue Yang rolled onto his side, staring at the wall before closing his eyes and trying to go back to sleep despite his face still feeling damp.

Chapter Text

|| A young child ran through the bustling streets of Yueyang, little hands clutching a sealed letter from the leader of the local clan, Chang Ci'an. He had been initially hesitant, having almost walked out when the older man had promised him the very thing he had been staring at earlier that day - a full plate of pastries just for him. He had instantly accepted, though after he turned to run off to find the receiver, he didn't see the condescending smirk on Chang Ci'an's face. All he could think about was how good the pastries were going to taste! He was being such a good boy in doing what he was told even if people didn't like him because his parents had passed away and he had no place to live.

Of course, even the goodest boys could get hurt.

After finding the man the letter was addressed to, he ran up to him and gently tugged on the sleeve of his robe, getting shoo'd away at first, but then tried again, finally getting the other man's attention. "Letter from Yueyang Chang Clan!" He had said with a bright smile, holding it up for the other older man. The man's hand was twice... no, three times the size of his own tiny hand, but as he watched, the big man's face went from uninterested, to angry, to furious, to down right red-faced-white-knuckled pissed off. He slammed the letter down, making the boy jump in surprise and fear, looking up as the man got up, looming over him before grabbing him. He was unceremoniously smacked around, thrown to the floor, kicked, and then dragged out by his hair as no one did anything to stop him.

Chang Ci'an was nowhere to be found, and the brawny man threw him to the floor and left.

The boy tried in vain to search for Chang Ci'an and for the plate of pastries he had been promised, asking around until finally a waiter picked him up and threw him out of the shop. He landed right in front of Chang Ci'an, who outright avoided him, causing the boy to run after him, even after being kicked by the clan leader before the older man tried to leave on an ox cart. Of course, not one to be denied, the boy chased after the cart, running in front of it and standing there, almost daring them to run him over. He would get his pastries one way or another!

Oh, if only he knew how unfair the world was for a homeless orphan.

The whip struck his arm first, making him turn in shock and pain, then his back, causing him to fall onto his stomach. Subsequent strikes to his back had staying on his stomach, rapidly losing any air he tried breathing in, gasping for breath as he weakly cried and tried to move. It was hard to even twitch parts of his body, his back hurt so much, and then he heard the clan leader urging the driver to go. The driver had been unwilling at first, but then after being bribed by a nice piece of gold... the boy heard the crack of the whip again and flinched, but no pain came. Eye screwed shut, he could hear the ox start running, the sound of the wheels getting closer and closer... there should have been no reason the cart suddenly sped up, the sound of it was getting too close too quickly!

He couldn't get his left hand out of the way in time, the wheels were too fast--- ||

Xue Yang jerked up out of the bed, covered in a cold sweat as he quickly stumbled to the inn window, wrenching it open in order to dry heave out of it. He gasped for breath, closing his eyes as the cool night air of Qinghe ruffled his messy hair, some of it sticking to his forehead, making him shakily move it out of the way. It's been so long since he had a dream about the day that he lost his left pinky, the day his life would forever be ruined, and while he had finally had his revenge on Chang Ci'an and every member of the Yueyang Chang clan... that brawny man... did he ever meet him again? He didn't even know who the man was, if he had a clan somewhere... he could very well be still alive.

Well, that is, until the day that Xue Yang learns who he is and comes to give some payback.

Sighing, he stood up straighter, looking out the window before finally closing it, much calmer now that the nausea had passed, putting his hands into his robes sleeves. Even as a conscious and uncontrolled fierce corpse, it was like he was a living person. He didn't get hungry but chose to eat, he didn't need sleep but liked it all the same. His physical pain tolerance had gone through the roof... but it was like his prior life was a mystery to him - his chaotic time with the Qishan Wen Clan, the time he had gotten captured after exacting revenge on the Yueyang Chang Clan and was held prisoner at the Qinghe Nie Clan's Unclean Realm, the time he discipled at the Lanling Jin Clan and got to murder and decapitate the Nie Mingjue, and then...

His time in Yi City.

He paused a moment as an odd feeling washed over him. He looked to the bed, to the pillows that lay ruffled from his nightmare thrashing. He then looked down at his left hand before pulling it out of his sleeve, looking at something in it for a moment before putting it back in his sleeve. He moved to lay back down onto the bed, closing his eyes and trying to get back to sleep, sighing softly and finally slowly relaxing. This time, thankfully, his sleep was dreamless.

That morning, he left before anyone else awoke, unsure of where he wanted to go... though maybe he should visit a certain head shaking clan leader...

He needed some entertainment~.