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Chapter Text

When Wei Wuxian came to, he was greeted by the repulsive scent of overripe fruit tainted by copper. He did not move his heavy, aching body as he took his first rattling breaths on a hard, wet floor.  He lifted his head, which immediately protested, and opened his eyes to a room he did not recognize. Wei Wuxian was disappointed to realize nothing stood out to him, but he supposed it was only fitting that his surroundings were unfamiliar.

He pulled himself to his knees and found slender legs with deep gashes and equally bloody hands. His fingers were deeply scarred, cut many times like Wei Wuxian’s own had been, except these were much too delicate to belong to him.

This is not my body, he thought in the haze. He’d been such a good spirit, not causing any trouble at all. Who had thought to summon him?

He tried to get to his feet and failed miserably, his legs giving out before he’d finished the attempt, his chin smacking to the ground, rattling his teeth. Whoever had summoned him most certainly had been generous with the amount of blood used. Already so close to the ground, Wei Wuxian took a good look at the array drawn all around him. It was a bit clunky, but resembled the one he’d created ages ago on another sleepless night, thinking he might ease the burden if he returned at least one parent to Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli. Someone they could rely on. The ritual he designed hadn’t ended up with that ability.  Resentment couldn’t bring forth someone free of guilt.

What a joke.

“What did you do this for?” Wei Wuxian muttered, pausing as soon as he’d spoken. His new voice was light. Just who had summoned him?

In the right corner of the room stood a tall bronze mirror that wouldn’t look out of place in Jinlintai. Dragging himself out of the array, smudging the blood with his white robes, Wei Wuxian aimed for the bronze mirror. Once he’d managed to crawl in front of it, he found himself face to face with a pale maiden. She was young,her complexion that of a poem’s, though it was no natural beauty but blood loss.

“Who are you?” the maiden spoke with her blue lips, Wei Wuxian’s intonation, a foreigner’s voice.

Oh.

Oh, this was not how this should go. Had a woman summoned him? How had a random woman even gotten access to this ritual? It should be as destroyed as Wei Wuxian’s body and yet, somehow, his creations remained while Wei Wuxian had been purged from the earth.

Fuck, Wei Wuxian needed to figure out just where he was. The door wasn’t far off, so he wiped the blood from his face and limbs, dirtying the white robes further. Had she been a widow maybe? Her husband could’ve been slaughtered and left unavenged, so she decided to treat herself to the afterlife and leave Wei Wuxian to fulfill her revenge. Determined, Wei Wuxian pulled himself towards the door, but just when he wanted to reach out to open it, someone else pushed it open.

“What have you done!?” thundered a voice Wei Wuxian had, frankly speaking, never wanted to hear again.

“Old man Lan?” Wei Wuxian blurted out, staring at the aged face of his former teacher.

At the back of his mind, Wei Wuxian remembered the cut of his robes, that he wasn’t dressed like a widow at all, but like a Lan.

Lan Qiren looked around, his gaze stuck somewhere above Wei Wuxian’s head, most likely the half-ruined summoning array behind him – fucking stupid, Wei Wuxian should’ve gotten rid of it immediately. Just why did it have to be a Lan summoning him, why was Lan Qiren his visitor at the door? Wasn’t death enough punishment?

“Wei Wuxian?” Lan Qiren asked wearily.

It seemed as good a time as any to pass out, Wei Wuxian would insist he decided, but in reality, his body decided that sitting upright on top of the blood loss was too much of a challenge, and sent him straight into a dead faint.

Wei Wuxian would like to claim he wasn’t surprised to be waking up a second time, but apparently, Lan Qiren was ready to surprise him with an odd reversal of their usual dynamics. For a moment, he hoped he’d just hallucinated old man Lan, but no, unfortunately, Lan Qiren was sitting on the floor in front of the blood array, studying it intently. Wei Wuxian raised his arms and found them wrapped. Had Lan Qiren actually put him in the bed and bandaged him?

“Are you awake?” Lan Qiren asked into the silence, tearing his eyes from the array and facing Wei Wuxian.

Wei Wuxian considered pettily staying quiet, but he wasn’t going to make it out of this house alive anyway, so he might as well make it quick for himself. Never let it be said that Wei Wuxian couldn’t assess whatever mess he found himself in.

“Yes,” he answered after some deliberation.

“Wang Chunhua?”

Wei Wuxian snorted. “I thought you’d already figured me out, Old Man Lan.”

Lan Qiren sighed, sounding somehow even more exhausted than Wei Wuxian had ever managed to make him in his youth. What a glorious second ending for the Yiling Patriarch, killed by Lan Qiren’s lingering annoyance and lack of patience.

“You are Wei Wuxian.”

“In the flesh,” Wei Wuxian replied, raising his arm as if preparing to bow. “Well, not my flesh. I’m assuming Wang Chunhua is the name of the woman who summoned me?”

Her name wasn’t Lan, but that meant little. She was dressed like one of theirs. Wang Chunhua obviously belonged to the sect.

“So you are possessing her?” Lan Qiren asked, more steadily  than expected. Wei Wuxian was surprised the man hadn’t cursed him into nothingness yet. Ah, he was probably concerned for Wang Chunhua. Fair enough, Wei Wuxian also wouldn’t risk harm to the body of a charge under his care on the off chance it would get rid of someone he loathed.

Too bad that possibility had already flown out of the window. Should Wei Wuxian lie? It might give him enough time to gather his wits and run away, but then again, he had no idea how much time had passed since he’d fainted, and while Lan Qiren had been a boring lecturer, he was far from stupid. The man had probably already figured out what was going on and was just waiting for Wei Wuxian to lie to him for a swift execution.

“Aiyah, teacher, don’t you tell your students not to ask stupid questions anymore?” Wei Wuxian asked. He pushed himself upright, leaning against the wall with one shoulder. “She offered her body to me. So as long as I fulfill her wishes, it is mine to do with as I please.”

Not that there was anything pleasant about being stuck in a weak body of a woman. Couldn’t she have used less blood, made this a bit easier on the both of them? What was the point of dabbling in the unorthodox to bring Wei Wuxian back only to set him up for execution? Maybe if she wasn’t a widow searching for revenge, she was some kind of prisoner forced to bring Wei Wuxian back to atone for her own crimes so they could kill him all over again. The more Wei Wuxian thought about it, the stranger his thoughts became.

Lan Qiren’s eyes narrowed. “Are you certain of this?”

“I invented the ritual,” Wei Wuxian said and rolled his eyes. Of course, he knew what it did. “More importantly, how come a member of your clan knew of it?”

“That is of no relevance to you,” Lan Qiren snapped. No relevance? Wei Wuxian was the one stuck in her body! He had every right to know how he came to be there.

“Well, in any case, you’ll have to wait to march me out of the Cloud Recesses, my legs refuse to work,” Wei Wuxian said with a sardonic smile. “What was the rule again? ‘No killing within the Cloud Recesses’?”

“You insolent—” Lan Qiren gritted out, but bit off the rest of the insult. Wei Wuxian laughed heavily. At least he’d have some entertainment before Lan Qiren tried to execute him. “Ah, Master Lan, you haven’t changed at all. You don’t have to worry about me corrupting any more Lan disciples, I’m not going anywhere for a while.”

Oh, he was, absolutely. As soon as he could stand on his own legs again, probably by midnight, he’d run. It seemed that Wang Chunhua was a cultivator despite dabbling in the unorthodox, so Wei Wuxian’s chances at escape weren’t too terrible. But it was best to make Lan Qiren believe he was weaker than he actually was, have him bicker with his Elders on how best to get rid of Wei Wuxian.

Ah, would they have Lan Zhan execute him this time? He wouldn’t mind so much if it was Lan Zhan they sent after him.

“You will not be executed, Wei Wuxian,” Lan Qiren said. Wei Wuxian only raised his brow at him. “Why not? You are just like your nephew, Old Man Lan, you’ve never liked me. Shouldn’t you want to be done with me as soon as possible?”

Wei Wuxian couldn’t parse the strange expression on Lan Qiren’s face. It seemed stuck somewhere between irritation and disbelief. The turn of this conversation was much too bizarre for Wei Wuxian to follow.

“Say I kill you now, what stops you from wreaking a different kind of havoc? I don’t know this infernal ritual of yours, but I do know what a resentful spirit can do. We haven’t been able to summon you for four years, no matter the invocation, but you choose to appear like this?”

There was not much of a choice involved in the body offering ritual, Wei Wuxian thought. Wang Chunhua held his spirit with a blade to his neck and a chance at reincarnation. But he could follow Lan Qiren’s thought process, even if he resented the suggestion that Wei Wuxian would immediately cause harm upon his second departure. If they hadn’t been able to summon him to destroy his spirit the first time, and obviously it hadn’t been scattered into all cardinal directions, why would he hurt anyone now? However long it had been, surely that should speak for Wei Wuxian’s character.

“Besides, this requires reason and investigation,” Lan Qiren continued. “You will remain here until I have figured out what is truly going on, and then you will return to where you belong, Wei Wuxian.”

And with a tremendously dramatic swish of his robes, Lan Qiren left the room.

Wei Wuxian could hear his footsteps on the wooden floor, then on the gravel outside, until they disappeared among the birdsong, leaving Wei Wuxian with the bloody array and his own thoughts.

With a sigh, Wei Wuxian lay down again. Honestly, what a mess.

Oh, well, Wei Wuxian would be just fine. For now, he’d rest before seeing how quickly he could escape.

Chapter Text

Unfortunately, Lan Qiren returned in the evening with a tray in his hands. Wei Wuxian grimaced at the sight of plain unseasoned congee. Not even any of Gusu Lan’s bitter vegetables were included, just rice. They truly lived like monks and treated their prisoners all the same. Wei Wuxian miserably swallowed it down. Regrettably, being in a new body didn’t make the congee taste better than he remembered. Well, being tortured by terrible food was better than being tortured for real.

Wei Wuxian could pick his battles and thus decided to stay quiet as he ate and Lan Qiren sat in front of him, a cup of astringent tea in his hands, surveying their surroundings. Wei Wuxian had slept away most of the day, so the room was just in as much disarray as it had been when he’d woken for the first time. What Wei Wuxian hadn’t been able to appreciate when he’d first woken, however, was how nice his dwelling looked. The Lan were known for their elegant minimalism, utility over lavish comfort, but this room was elegantly arranged like that of a cherished guest, or someone you wanted to butter up when outright bribery was forbidden.

“Thank you for the meal,” Wei Wuxian said when he was done and enjoyed seeing Lan Qiren’s eyebrow twitch. Being polite would infuriate the man more than being his usual shameless self.

“So, have you decided what to do with me?” Wei Wuxian asked, not beating around the bush. Much could be gained from biding his time, control of his legs for one, but something told him that he should focus on the immediate. Lan Qiren might refuse to answer him, but he probably wouldn’t lie, so the right question might gain him insight regardless.

“What is the purpose of the ritual?” Lan Qiren countered Wei Wuxian’s question.

Wei Wuxian blinked. “Don’t you already know? It is supposed to bring someone back to life to execute your will. Wang Chunhua offered me her body on the condition that I fulfill her request.”

“And what is her request?”

Wei Wuxian studied Lan Qiren’s expression, but it was completely blank. Something about this situation was strange, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it yet. Had Wei Wuxian overestimated Lan Qiren’s ability to parse meaning from the bloody smears on the ground? No, Wei Wuxian doubted it. That couldn’t be the truth either, not entirely, at least.

“I don’t know,” Wei Wuxian replied honestly. “I have the curse mark to show for it—” he raised the arm Lan Qiren had bandaged himself, “—but it’s not like she left me instructions. I’m not a mind reader. Honestly, a letter would’ve done it as far as instructions go.”

He should have caught it during the summoning, but it seemed like the ritual hadn’t gone as smoothly as it should have.

The problem with the Lan’s many rules and Lan Qiren’s absolute adherence to them, Wei Wuxian realized, was that it made them so inflexible that they couldn’t imagine a situation outside of the norm. Which, all in all, meant that Lan Qiren might be skilled at keeping his face still, but he was shit at lying.

“She did, didn’t she?” Wei Wuxian needled him. “You found a letter. What does it say?”

The sooner Wei Wuxian could get over it, the better. Perhaps he was lucky enough that whatever Wang Chunhua wanted him to do could be accomplished from here, freeing him of the threat before escaping the Lan. “Show it to me!”

Lan Qiren didn’t move from his place. “And would you fulfill her every wish?”

“I’m not particularly fond of dying gruesomely twice,” Wei Wuxian replied coolly. He couldn’t recall his death precisely and would rather avoid thinking about it in any form altogether, but this was nothing but the truth. “So if I can fulfill it, I will.”

“Every wish?”

Lan Qiren was extremely lucky that Wei Wuxian was saving his strength for recovery. “I’m not one of your students anymore, Teacher Lan,” Wei Wuxian snarled. “What do you care?”

“I will not have you massacre everyone in your way again just for the sake of a second attempt at life,” Lan Qiren answered icily.

If Wei Wuxian recalled correctly, nobody had been in his way, they’d decided that he was in theirs. Beneath the blanket, he curled his hands into fists, ignoring the sting of slit wrists. The Cloud Recesses barely harbored resentment. The seats of sects rarely did, the antithesis of everything they were, but you couldn’t ever completely clear a place of it and Wei Wuxian was so very skilled at working with every tool handed to him. He could whistle the anger hiding beneath the floorboards into a nail sharp enough to pierce Lan Qiren’s head, see him dead before he could reach for his sword.

But that would make his getaway so much more difficult, and it would prove every assumption Lan Qiren had ever made about him right, and Wei Wuxian was sick of death haunting his every step.

“If you think this badly of me, you must hate me more than Lan Zhan ever did,” Wei Wuxian replied instead. “Is massacre really what the letter calls for? What does it actually say?”

Lan Qiren studied him for another moment, then wordlessly handed Wei Wuxian a piece of paper from his sleeve. Wei Wuxian accepted it carefully, his fingertips humming with energy in case he needed to bind a curse before it could reach his heart.

But the letter was just that, a letter and nothing else. Wei Wuxian was stunned from the first line on. This had to be a joke, right? Wei Wuxian remembered Lan Zhan and Lan Qiren’s handwriting, and it certainly wasn’t theirs, but he doubted any Lan would dare indulge in such a horrible lying scheme.

“You’re joking, aren’t you?” Wei Wuxian asked regardless and to his immense horror, Lan Qiren’s expression only tightened and not in the oh-no-I’ve-been-caught way, but the how-dare-you-suggest-this way. “Wang Chunhua is Lan Zhan’s wife?”

Wei Wuxian stared down at his hands before catching sight of the bronze mirror again. This was the woman Lan Zhan had married? Wei Wuxian supposed she was pretty enough, with her round face and big eyes. Had the old fuddy-duddy fallen in love after all? Wei Wuxian had assumed Lan Zhan would end up unmarried for his whole life, admired but eternally unattainable. Her personality and skill must be outstanding if they’d married.

“Read,” Lan Qiren ordered and for once, Wei Wuxian was inclined to obey.

The letter continued interestingly after that, quickly causing Wei Wuxian to revise his initial assumptions about Wang Chunhua.

Wang Chunhua was not Lan Zhan’s greatest fan, to say the least. “Why?” Wei Wuxian muttered under his breath. “Who wouldn’t want to marry Lan Zhan?”

Sure, he was not the easiest person to get along with, but he was still Hanguang-jun. The marriage had apparently been arranged to redeem her family’s reputation.

“Wang Lingjiao’s younger cousin?” Wei Wuxian couldn’t fucking believe it. Apparently, they’d been taken in by the Jin, neatly weaseling out of paying for their association with Qishan Wen.

Fuck, Wei Wuxian hadn’t even known they’d survived the Sunshot Campaign. What a mess. Still, he couldn’t tell from the letter exactly what the negotiations around the marriage had been. Apparently, it was supposed to help them mutually, though Wei Wuxian couldn’t tell why Lan Zhan would need any help with his reputation.

The letter ended on a particularly miserable note.

“I take it you have no idea who the ‘treasonous snake throwing away my achievements for petty politics’ Wang Chunhua referred to is?” Wei Wuxian concluded. Lan Qiren only pursed his lips, displeased.

“I can’t tell you anyway,” Wei Wuxian concluded. “I didn’t even know her family survived the war.”

There went the easy way out of being torn apart.

Pausing, Wei Wuxian turned the letter over. It was mostly coherent, but enough the ramblings of a mad woman that he was concerned. He wouldn’t be too surprised if Wang Chunhua had suffered from a curse. There had to be a reason her meridians were in such poor condition, after all. He’d noticed their deterioration while he was preparing to take the letter. They seemed corrupted, unsteady, a little like his had been at the end of his life, after dealing with resentful energy without a golden core.

“So where does that leave us, Teacher Lan?” Wei Wuxian asked. “Are you going to get rid of me since I cannot help you solve this mystery?”

“No,” Lan Qiren answered immediately. Wei Wuxian hadn’t expected him to come to a decision so quickly. “You will remain here and I will bring you your meals.”

That seemed odd. He’d expected to be dragged in front of a council, the Chief Cultivator himself, and sentenced on the spot, or perhaps put to work recreating his machinations. Perhaps Jin Guangshan would ridicule him for being stuck in a woman’s body— ah.

Wei Wuxian startled himself and Lan Qiren with laughter. Wang Chunhua’s laugh wasn’t unlike his own, too loud and inappropriate for anyone of prestige.

“You don’t want anybody to know your precious Lan-er-furen summoned the Yiling Patriarch, do you?” Wei Wuxian grinned. “Teacher Lan, did you even inform Zewu-jun or Lan Zhan of my presence? Does anybody know just who you’re keeping in this cottage? Even if you have no love lost for Wang Chunhua, keeping secrets like this ought to break several of your rules.”

“Wei Wuxian!” Lan Qiren raised his voice. “How is it that you speak only to infuriate? Did no one teach you when to keep quiet?”

Wei Wuxian snorted and leaned back. Seeing Lan Qiren enraged soothed Wei Wuxian more than the silence. “Nobody seems to have taught you either, old man, or you wouldn’t yell it for everyone to hear now. Isn’t there a rule about that?”

Lan Qiren promptly got to his feet and started pacing. Wei Wuxian had never seen him upset in this particular way.

“Do you intend to keep me here until you figure out just who or what got Wang Chunhua to sacrifice her life?” Wei Wuxian inquired. That might be preferable´to attempting to run away tonight, leaving him with more time to recuperate. “And then what?”

“Must you be so impatient?” Lan Qiren shot back. “You act no better than a child.”

“Better a child than a hypocrite.”

“You—” Lan Qiren pinched the bridge of his nose. “Wei Wuxian, as I see it, we are stuck here with each other until we figure this out.”

Confused, Wei Wuxian tilted his head, trying to read Lan Qiren’s expression. “I didn’t know this was a we situation, more like the Lan have a dirty secret to cover up kind of situation and I’m just here.”

“Are you so very certain about that?” Lan Qiren countered.

Wei Wuxian’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”

With a grand gesture to the array on the ground, Lan Qiren said, “I studied your infernal array while you were unconscious, Wei Wuxian. Whatever your original intention, I doubt it will hold your soul long.”

“What?”

“Haven’t you seen the flaw yet?”

What fucking flaw, Wei Wuxian wanted to ask, but unwilling to give Lan Qiren the satisfaction, Wei Wuxian turned to the array himself. It had looked familiar enough that Wei Wuxian hadn’t given it a second glance. That had been a mistake, as he now knew. It was fortunate that they hadn’t gotten rid of it yet, leaving Wei Wuxian time to study it. While his own memories of its creation were a little fuzzy, he caught the flaw Lan Qiren had pointed to quickly enough.

“I am bound to this body for only a year,” Wei Wuxian said. Maybe even less, he wouldn’t exactly call the array stable. Huh, no wonder Lan Qiren hadn’t executed him yet, then. Messing with set timelines on any kind of curses often yielded unpredictable results; backlashes for once. And well, if Wei Wuxian was only returned to the living world for a year, what did such a short time mean to cultivators aiming to become immortal masters?

“A year is a very long time to bring me meals, Teacher Lan,” Wei Wuxian sighed. It was certainly long enough to figure out how to reverse it.

“If that is what it takes. Wang Chunhua will be in seclusion for the next year while I look into the mess she made,” Lan Qiren decided. It sounded like a dismissal, but it wasn’t as though Wei Wuxian ought to be the one leaving. Instead, Lan Qiren lingered, exhausted. “Do not cause more pain than you already have, Wei Wuxian.”

Wei Wuxian refused to give Lan Qiren the satisfaction of a flinch, but it mattered little, the words struck where they were supposed to.

“I will look into where Wang Chunhua acquired the notes. If you know what is best for you, you will remain.”

And so Wei Wuxian did. Perhaps it was for the best that Lan Qiren hadn’t told Lan Zhan of Wei Wuxian’s presence yet. This way, Hanguang-jun couldn’t come to gloat about the Yiling Patriarch finally being brought to Gusu. They’d have to inform him in the future, at the latest whenever Lan Zhan started to wonder where that wife he married was.

Wei Wuxian suppressed a full-body shudder. He was not quite willing to face that particular reality yet.

This time when Lan Qiren left, Wei Wuxian paid a little more attention. He hadn’t been able to hear any of the Lan disciples, so he had to be further away from the main compound than he would have expected of Lan-er-furen’s dwelling. And this time, a flare of energy, a click.

Wei Wuxian smiled.

Lan Qiren had locked him in.

Chapter Text

Wei Wuxian had to hand it to the old man, Lan Qiren knew how to set up a ward that did exactly as asked. Perhaps if he had covered this during the lectures, Wei Wuxian wouldn’t have run as wild as he did back then.

Dealing with the locking mechanism and escaping was a bit much for one night, so Wei Wuxian settled on giving himself a week instead. He doubted that would be enough time for Lan Qiren to figure out where Wang Chunhua had gotten the array, though Wei Wuxian suspected it was a little more than just one array, given her corrupted meridians. A one-off ritual that killed you wouldn’t be enough to explain this kind of corruption. Unfortunately, Wang Chunhua had been smart enough not to practice demonic cultivation in her house, ignoring the bloody array spread across the wooden floor.

Left to his own devices, Wei Wuxian couldn’t find many things of interest, not even her sword. The calluses on her hands spoke of Wang Chunhua having received some kind of training, more than her cousin anyway, but the weapon was missing. Lan Qiren had probably cleared anything of interest or danger out after Wei Wuxian had fainted for the first time.

Well, Wei Wuxian hadn’t ever needed much to keep himself entertained. Now that he felt somewhat steady again, he decided that it was time to get rid of the bloody array getting on his nerves. While he’d gotten very used to the scent of blood during his stay at the Burial Mounds, he preferred not smelling it. He searched for ink and paper, both of which he found crammed into a box that looked like it had been for perfume instead, and copied the remains of the array down. Here and there, he spotted minor discrepancies with his own work, some of them looking almost like someone had copied his handwriting incorrectly.

“Wang Chunhua, just what kind of literature were you reading?” Wei Wuxian wondered.

He’d sat down in front of the array to study it closely and now balanced the brush between his fingers, twirling it like it was Chenqing. Hm, had his dizi been destroyed alongside his body? Maybe he could acquire one here or find some bamboo decoration he could break apart to make one. He was with the Lan, imprisoned by them, yes, but he was still with a sect that gave instruments to itty bitty children. Wei Wuxian had herded enough children during his time as head disciple to know they were prone to losing their belongings. Wei Wuxian doubted that Lan children were any different.

Once he was done copying, he sought water to clean it off.

Unfortunately, it looked like the spring was outside his boundary, so he’d have to make do with whatever water he found here. Thankfully, the washing area in the back still had a half-full tub. Had Wang Chunhua washed up before she got herself bloody all over again?

How ridiculous.

Still, Wei Wuxian used the day-old bath water to freshen up, undressing strategically to avoid looking at his new body all at once. A look into her wardrobe revealed that Wang Chunhua, when she wasn’t wearing Lan robes, favored the colors of her natal clan, which suited Wei Wuxian just fine. He tossed out the light pinks, but the darker robes he could work with. Dressed and slightly wobbly, he filled a kitchen bucket with bathwater, then sluiced the floor. As he found no cleaning rags, he simply used Wang Chunhua’s old clothes to wipe up the stains. She wasn’t going to be wearing that bloody mess again anyway. It wasn’t perfect, but better than sleeping next to a reeking open wound.

“I think we did well today,” Wei Wuxian announced and nodded to himself.

Lan Qiren arrived early the next morning, just when Wei Wuxian thought he might want to go to sleep. They exchanged no words as Lan Qiren dropped off his food. He eyed the remains of the array, then he disappeared again.

Wei Wuxian ate, grimaced at the taste, and headed to bed. He slept until midday when, once again, Lan Qiren returned with his food and exchanged the trays quietly. Wei Wuxian was honestly a little baffled. He hasn’t expected to be fed twice a day. If this was how the Lan treated all their prisoners, it was no surprise they never took any. So much effort when a human needed so much less to stay alive!

In the afternoon, Wei Wuxian found himself meditating. He’d never been exceptionally skilled at meditating while sitting down, but it wasn’t like he had much of an option. Wang Chunhua’s cottage wasn’t particularly large. Fortunately, even a little meditation did a lot. Wei Wuxian got the sense that however long Wang Chunhua had messed around with resentful energy, she hadn’t known how to purge it properly. Or handle it properly. It lingered and devoured when nothing held it back.

In the evening, ridiculously, Lan Qiren came again and delivered food.

Wei Wuxian honestly didn’t know what to do with that, so this meal too he accepted quietly.

And thus they remained for a week. Wei Wuxian had no idea if Lan Qiren knew what Wei Wuxian got up to at night. He never searched the building for gruesome curses or the like. Perhaps he thought himself a good enough cultivator to sense them or, worse, had faith that Wei Wuxian wouldn’t be stupid enough to try to create one while under the Lan’s tender care.

Regardless, Lan Qiren was right not to search, as Wei Wuxian refused to put anything beyond the array in writing.

Only after a week, did Lan Qiren deign to speak to him again.

“You stink,” Lan Qiren said without any preamble. “You need to bathe.”

Wei Wuxian rolled his eyes at him. “Old man, I’m not sure if you noticed, but the well is outside the boundary. I can’t go fill it up myself.”

Lan Qiren studied him as if he expected Wei Wuxian to be lying or up to some other mischief. Honestly, it wasn’t as if Wei Wuxian hadn’t noticed that he was starting to smell less than pleasant, but besides spraying himself with Wang Chunhua’s superficially sweet perfumes, he didn’t have much of a choice, did he?

“Fine,” Lan Qiren said. “Come along.”

He opened the door and disabled the lock before Wei Wuxian could get a good look at it. Pointless, Wei Wuxian had already figured most of it out just by following the energy lines in the ground. Another two weeks and he could probably break out without Lan Qiren noticing.

The well wasn’t particularly far away from the house, just a few short steps, but it felt like a whole journey to Wei Wuxian. He hadn’t left the house since his resurrection and now found himself standing in the sunshine, the soft earth beneath his bare feet. He’d only been able to spy through the windows into the greenery surrounding him, but not actually been outside.

“You wanted to fetch water, didn’t you?” Lan Qiren rudely reminded him of their actual purpose.

“Yes, yes, old man. Don’t hurry me, I haven’t seen the sunlight in days.”

Months even, perhaps. Wei Wuxian hadn’t seen much of it in the Burial Mounds and his recollection of those last months was less than stellar.

Still, he took his trusty bucket and began fetching water. Under Lan Qiren’s watchful eyes, he walked back and forth from well to house, filling the bath. He could probably heat it with a talisman later.

“One more,” Wei Wuxian told Lan Qiren when the old man looked like he was starting to get impatient. Wei Wuxian would rather have some extra before Lan Qiren decided when Wei Wuxian was allowed out next.

The treatment was reminiscent of a dog’s. Wei Wuxian grimaced at the thought and vowed to never make that particular nerve-wracking comparison again, thank you very much.

Just as Wei Wuxian pulled up the last bucket, a young voice echoed across the clearing.

“Granduncle!”

At once, Lan Qiren whipped around, fearfully, his hand going to his sword.

Is this the kind of man you think I am? Wei Wuxian wanted to ask as a child came running down the hill. He rolled his eyes and pulled the bucket over the wall.

“Granduncle!” the boy said again, his voice just hairbreadth from shouting. The boy stopped before them and Wei Wuxian was tempted to leave for his house, but the boy had called Lan Qiren granduncle and wasn’t that interesting?

He was too old to be Lan Zhan’s son, but Wei Wuxian hadn’t heard of Lan Xichen marrying and having a child before his death. The boy was old enough that he would’ve been born early during the war. A bastard maybe? Of course, the Lan would take in a bastard before allowing them to run wild and yet—something about the child was familiar.

Something in Wei Wuxian told him that he should be able to recognize him.

“Granduncle, I apologize for disturbing you, but Elder Zhou asks for your time…” the boy drifted off. When his gaze came to rest on Wie Wuxian, he perked up. “Muqin, are you feeling better? Lan Yuan apologizes for not coming to see you, but granduncle said you are not to be disturbed.”

Lan Yuan.

Next to him, Lan Qiren was eager to end the conversation. “I will come in a bit, Sizhui, return to your lessons.”

“Yes, granduncle!” Lan Yuan answered with a bright smile that is just the same— “Goodbye, muqin!”

He hurried away again, not running because he was a good little Lan disciple, was alive to walk and laugh and smile.

“A-Yuan,” Wei Wuxian breathed out and dropped the bucket, water splattering everywhere.

Lan Zhan had to have found him. He’d gone to the Burial Mounds and found a-Yuan, not among the corpses, but hiding where they’d left him and he’d taken him home, he’d raised him.

“Wei Wuxian, if you even think of—”

“I would never,” Wei Wuxian interrupted him. Heaven, if he hadn’t nightmares about his corpses biting away at a-Yuan, a dozen different deaths for a child too young to have any extraordinary claim to life in the eyes of strangers. “I’d never hurt a-Yuan. If anyone dared, I would—I would—”

Tear them limb from limb until their own ancestors wouldn’t recognize them if they begged.

“You know him,” Lan Qiren said. It ought to be a question, but Lan Qiren’s statement didn’t allow for negotiation or bending the truth.

Wei Wuxian froze. Was a-Yuan’s origin a secret and Wei Wuxian had fucked it all up now by letting it slip? Would Lan Wangji lie to his whole family to protect a-Yuan? He’d hate it, but a-Yuan was just a kid and innocent of anyone’s crimes, be that the Wen’s or Wei Wuxian’s own.

And then, just before Wei Wuxian could spiral further, contemplate nails of resentment, grabbing a-Yuan and running, Lan Qiren only sighed tiredly.

“I thought he was your son when Wangji brought him home,” Lan Qiren admitted. “He was feverish, the taint of the Burial Mounds still clung to him, and Wangji was so very insistent that no one was to take the boy from him.”

“He’s not mine by blood,” Wei Wuxian replied in a daze, still staring at the meadow where a-Yuan had disappeared. “But that didn’t matter much. Fifty adults to a single child, he belonged to us all, whoever was the least injured and tired.”

Or whoever needed a distraction. By the end of their time together, Wen Qing had mastered the art of reading Wei Wuxian’s mood, handing a-Yuan to him before he became too maudlin, too despondent.

Wei Wuxian picked the bucket up and refilled it. The Burial Mounds had a single spring, and the water could not be drunk before being purified and boiled and even then, it always tasted just a little like mud. He’d gone and fetched the water often enough, Wen Qing chiding him for ruining a-Yuan’s clothes and forcing him to wash them. They skipped down to the river together and Wei Wuxian had spent as much time chasing a-Yuan out of the water as fulfilling any of the tasks he was meant to do at the river.

“He seemed well-loved when Wangji brought him here,” Lan Qiren conceded. “Lan Sizhui, however, does not retain any memories of his time before the Cloud Recesses.”

“Ah.” Was that supposed to be a threat? Don’t try to make him remember his whole family’s slaughter at your hands? “Don’t worry, Teacher Lan,” Wei Wuxian said softly. “I have no intention of ruining a-Yuan’s happiness here. He is happy, isn’t he?”

Wei Wuxian would have a year to see for himself if it wasn’t true. If a-Yuan wasn’t happy, he could probably make the Lan remember why they had feared the Yiling Patriarch before his passing. He owed it to the Wen to ensure the last one was happy, even if he did not remember any of them.

“Yes,” Lan Qiren answered, sounding almost offended at Wei Wuxian daring to wonder. “Wangji cares for him and he is an excellent student. Sizhui is an exemplary disciple, kind and helpful.”

That was good. If Lan Qiren praised him so, then surely a-Yuan was well.

“Of course, he’s the best,” Wei Wuxian agreed.

Maybe if he stayed, he’d catch a glimpse of him again. “I’ll get back to arranging my bath then, Teacher Lan. See you tonight,” Wei Wuxian said and raised his hand to dismiss Lan Qiren as he returned to his prison.

Right, he had a year to deal with this. He should get comfortable in the meanwhile.

Chapter Text

Lan Qiren didn’t know where he’d gone wrong raising his nephew. It seemed like only yesterday Lan Wangji was a pillar of their sect, not yet taller than Lan Qiren, hiding an adorable pout when passing his favorite sweets in the city. Nowadays, Lan Qiren was lucky if he saw his nephew at all and he never caught him in a moment of weakness. In the aftermath of his punishment, the healers had advised Lan Qiren to halt his visits to Wangji as he’d do whatever he could to make it seem like his back wasn’t putting him in agony whenever they met. A single visit from Lan Qiren set back Wangji’s recovery by a week.

Lan Qiren feared that if not for Lan Yuan, Wangji wouldn’t be here at all.

If not for Lan Yuan, he’d doubt his nephew loved him at all.

Whenever his nephew was on a nighthunt, Lan Yuan was in either Xichen’s care or Lan Qiren’s. Of course, that development had taken three years as well. At the start, Wangji hadn’t wanted Lan Yuan to leave his sight. Lan Qiren would never forget how terrified Wangji had been, woken from his nightmare, seeing Lan Yuan in Lan Qiren’s hands. He’d expected Lan Qiren to harm the boy, this child only just recovered from fever.

Then again, perhaps Lan Qiren would have.

He’d been to the Burial Mounds, the graveyard that, no matter how unwilling he was to acknowledge it, had been Lan Yuan’s home for half his life.

For years, Lan Qiren had been allowed to ignore it. As willing as Wangji had been to let memories fade, he did raise Lan Yuan with love, encouraged kind behaviors in Wei Wuxian’s spirit. Lan Qiren had tolerated it because he raised the boy right, no matter the inspiration, but now, whenever he looked at Lan Yuan, all he could picture was Wei Wuxian’s face, desperation and longing clinging to Lan Yuan’s retreating back. He must have believed the boy to be dead like the rest of his relatives.

And this thought alone wouldn’t leave Lan Qiren alone.

If not for Lan Wangji aggravating his injuries all over again, Lan Yuan would lie decaying as Wen Yuan, and every lesson Lan Qiren had ever taught him would have been nothing more than a dream. It was easy to forget that their claim on the boy wasn’t the first or even righteous. They treated him like a Lan, raised him like a Lan, like he wasn’t stolen from a battlefield of their own making.

Since the revelation of Lan Yuan’s identity, Lan Qiren had expected Wei Wuxian to act out again, to cause an unforeseen terror, but he remained quiet instead. He accepted the meals Lan Qiren brought him without a word and, as far as he could tell, spent his days reading through Wang Chunhua’s writings, meditating, or painting. Every once in a while, he asked if Lan Qiren had any idea yet how she had summoned him, and Lan Qiren, shamefully, made excuses because he hadn’t had the time to focus on his research.

Wei Wuxian’s quiet acceptance of this disturbed Lan Qiren too. No matter how deprived, Lan Qiren couldn’t understand Wei Wuxian’s easy acceptance of his own situation. Had Lan Qiren been resurrected in a woman’s body, he would have driven himself insane by the discomfort. Not only was it inappropriate to gaze at the form of a woman, but his own spirit would never settle with it. Wei Wuxian, however, hardly seemed to mind, though he did prefer to dress in Wang Chunhua’s darker robes and the least feminine of her clothes. Although his choice might be coincidental as the outfits he picked seemed to be the most comfortable and least adorned of the lot.

Lan Qiren sighed. They never should’ve accepted the marriage offer for Lan Wangji. At the time, it had seemed like a good idea. It dealt with the rumors about Lan Wangji’s involvement with Wei Wuxian, secured further alliance to the Jin and a clan keen to redeem their reputation of their involvement with the Wen. And now look where that had ended, Lan Wangji trapped in a marriage he loathed so much he left the Cloud Recesses for months at a time, and Wang Chunhua dealing with the same kind of horrors as Wei Wuxian, but in the very heart of the Cloud Recesses.

If Lan Qiren told Lan Wangji, allowed him to gain even a hint of Wei Wuxian’s presence, he’d most certainly act just as rashly as he had the years before, perhaps just absconding the sect with Wei Wuxian and Lan Yuan and leave them all behind. After all, apparently, the only trouble in their relationship was Wei Wuxian being under the assumption that Lan Wangji hated him most, an idea that Lan Qiren would leave uncommented for as long as possible. With Lan Wangji’s wanderings, maybe they could pass the year without him ever needing to meet Wei Wuxian. It would be the best for everyone involved. There was no need to break Wangji’s heart and loyalties all over again. Lan Qiren would shoulder the burden and responsibility of keeping Wei Wuxian’s presence in the Cloud Recesses concealed, and whatever punishment waiting for him once the year had passed.

Unsettled still, Lan Qiren took Wei Wuxian’s meal from the kitchen to bring him his lunch. After walking the path for weeks, it was beyond familiar to him. He refused to consider it in any way similar to the times he’d brought meals to his brother’s wife.

When Wei Wuxian’s residence came into sight, Lan Qiren froze at the image presented to him. Wei Wuxian sat on the porch and next to him, in rumpled and dirty robes, Lan Yuan.

He’d known it. Wei Wuxian was only bidding his time until—

“And what do we learn from this?” Wei Wuxian’s voice echoed.

Not to trust.

Lan Yuan blushed. “Not to sneak around?”

Wei Wuxian grinned and tugged at the ends of Lan Yuan’s ribbon before pinching his cheek. “Exactly. I am in seclusion to rest, a-Yuan. It is sweet that you worry, but you have to ask your granduncle first.”

“But I was worried! He said you were sick and if anything happened to you while a-Die is gone…”

“Do you really think a little sickness can defeat me? Hanguang-jun wouldn’t have married someone so weak. You’ll see, I’ll get better soon and if you want to visit me again…?”

Lan Yuan shamefully let his head hang. “I will ask granduncle first.”

“And if he says no?”

“Then I won’t sneak through the forest to get here.”

Wei Wuxian nodded. “Well done. And look, now you can apologize to your granduncle immediately.”

Apparently, Lan Qiren’s approach hadn’t gone unnoticed by Wei Wuxian. His expression tightened slightly, but not so much that Lan Yuan seemed to notice. Lan Qiren didn’t know how to feel about the fact that he could read Wei Wuxian well enough to understand he wanted to conceal his animosity in front of Lan Yuan.

“Granduncle!” Lan Yuan, evidently, hadn’t seen Lan Qiren approach. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you skipping your lesson?” Lan Qiren asked. One meeting with Wei Wuxian and already his bad influence was spreading.

Lan Yuan shook his head. “No, our teacher is visiting his daughter. She is about to give birth and he wanted to see his first grandchild as soon as possible.”

Lan Yuan’s eyes drifted to Wei Wuxian, seemingly waiting for a sign. Wei Wuxian, however, only raised his brow at the boy. “But we were supposed to self-study,” Lan Yuan added. “I apologize for ignoring instructions and sneaking away, but—”

“A good apology doesn’t include excuses, a-Yuan,” Wei Wuxian interrupted the boy softly. “It’ll only make people less likely to listen.”

Spoken from experiences, Lan Qiren knew.

“Apology accepted,” Lan Qiren said. “You will recite all rules appropriate to your behavior tonight before dinner.”

“Yes, granduncle!” Lan Yuan replied, then more shyly asked, “Can I stay with you and muqin for lunch today?”

Lan Qiren was conflicted. He ought to forbid it after Lan Yuan had stolen away to visit Wei Wuxian on his own, but that wasn’t correct either, was it? The boy had gone to check on the woman who was now supposedly his mother, left alone while his father sought to right the chaos of the world. Lan Qiren had no idea what Wangji had told Lan Yuan about his marriage or how to treat his future spouse. Before Wei Wuxian, Lan Qiren would’ve been able to predict his behavior, but now he couldn’t. Lan Qiren’s ability to judge character had significantly decreased in the last few years. He’d even missed the insanity of Wang Chunhua.

“Perhaps another day?” Wei Wuxian suggested as Lan Qiren still struggled to find an answer. “Grandmaster Lan has only brought me my dinner and would have to return to fetch more. We can’t ask that of him since we already started this meeting on an unpleasant note.”

Lan Yuan’s shoulders fell, but he accepted it and, after a quick goodbye that included hugging Wei Wuxian tightly, returned to his studies.

As soon as he was out of sight, Wei Wuxian spoke. “Before you ask, I didn’t ask him to come and I didn’t tell him anything either.”

“I wasn’t going to.” Lan Qiren had, of course, assumed it at first, but he wasn’t going to voice it now. Perhaps it would be easier if he and Wei Wuxian returned to sniping at each other. Lan Qiren preferred it when his interactions with Wei Wuxian matched the erratic behavior he’d displayed before his death.

Wei Wuxian snorted. “Sure. Anyway, stay for lunch, I have something to show you.”

Patiently, Lan Qiren sat with Wei Wuxian, who remained infuriatingly quiet while eating. All the times the boy caused a ruckus during his study days and now he couldn’t speak his mind? Lan Qiren loathed how little sense Wei Wuxian made to him. At times, it was ridiculously easy to pinpoint his thought process, he’d make a whole show out of it, yet at others, Lan Qiren couldn’t even guess.

After the weeks contained within the cottage, Lan Qiren had expected Wei Wuxian to have lost his initial peace, but somehow, he seemed more settled and not less. Wang Chunhua had worn her hair up after the marriage, as was appropriate, and pinned it into place with wooden sticks carved sharp enough that they could probably serve to fend off an attacker. Wei Wuxian didn’t keep with the appearance, but he also didn’t alter it too much. He braided her thick hair presumably to keep it out of his face, but wore his robes appropriately, refusing to dress his body in any way that might be inappropriate.

It struck Lan Qiren as odd that Wei Wuxian put so much effort into his appearance when he’d looked like he’d crawled out of the nearest tavern during the Sunshot Campaign and every appearance after.

Once finished with his meal, Wei Wuxian pushed the empty bowls far to the side and walked across the room to his desk before returning with more papers than Lan Qiren had even realized been in this cottage. With great apprehension, he waited for Wei Wuxian to put them on the table, not trusting him enough to dare touch them himself.

“I was bored and since I’ve got nothing but time, I worked on some things,” Wei Wuxian said. “Did you ever fireproof your library after the Wen burned it? Was it even warded before? It seems like a building that should be warded. I know that Lotus Pier, well, we had fire wards after, but they wouldn’t work for the Cloud Recesses, so I had to adapt them and—”

Lan Qiren bristled at Wei Wuxian’s flippant tone, but he couldn’t disregard him as he revealed one sheet after another, every inch of the paper covered in notes, suggestions for spiritual instruments, arrays, and wards. Wei Wuxian presented them like he had his work during his study here, quickly, just scratching the surface of a topic, but whereas Lan Qiren had been glad to hear his talking cease as soon as possible then, he couldn’t claim the same now.

“—and I improved the design of my compass. Never got to finish that one before, though I would need materials to make one,” Wei Wuxian finished his chaotic, messy, unstructured ramble.

Infuriatingly, Lan Qiren felt the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose and make Wei Wuxian copy all the precepts on organized work.

“Wei Wuxian,” he said slowly. “What is this?”

Wei Wuxian blinked at him like Lan Qiren had said something particularly confusing. “I just told you? I was bored and I made this.”

Unorthodox or not, and Lan Qiren would surely research the ink-splattered mess in front of him, least of all Wei Wuxian brought another calamity into his life, he could not understand why Wei Wuxian was handing this to him instead of hiding it away. Did he seek to throw the Lan into question for having the Yiling Patriarch’s unseen but most certainly recognizable work? A slow trap, but an effective one once it snapped shut.

“But why did you make this, Wei Wuxian?”

Once more, Wei Wuxian looked at him like he was asking a foolish question.

“A-Yuan is here,” Wei Wuxian said. “He’s a good kid, he gets to grow up safe and happy. This is the least I can do to keep him safe.”

This is the least I can do to keep them safe, said the ghost of a woman decades dead, haunting Lan Qiren, locked away in her house, stitching protective charms into children’s robes.

“Nothing I ever made hurt a-Yuan, not even Chenqing. It had little indents from when he used it as a chew toy for his aching teeth.” Wei Wuxian laughed in reminiscence and suddenly, the room was entirely too small for just the two of them, leaving Lan Qiren caught in memories.

“Nothing unorthodox, I promise.” Wei Wuxian half-smiled. “You can check, of course.”

No.

No.

Lan Qiren would not check, he would not engage with this curiosity any more than he had to. He’d indulged Wei Wuxian by listening to him, pretending that there was a manner of civility to maintain, lulled into some sense of security.

“If you think this is enough to atone, you are mistaken,” Lan Qiren said slowly, pushing the papers away. “Nobody can forgive you for your actions or undo them.”

Wei Wuxian’s expression, so open before, closed off. Silently, he stared at Lan Qiren before adopting a look Lan Qiren had seen far more often from him, scorn dressed as mockery.

“Maybe you should concern yourself with your own unforgivable actions,” Wei Wuxian replied. “Why was Lan Zhan put into seclusion for three years?”

Wei Wuxian should have no way of knowing that, not unless he was told. Angry that he’d caught this knowledge from someone, Lan Qiren hissed, “Who told you?”

“Resentment lingers, Teacher Lan,” said Wei Wuxian. “And it whispers. At least I’ve never had my nephew beaten with the discipline whip.”

Lan Qiren always regarded himself as a patient man.

Wei Wuxian made this patience snap.

“No, you just killed his parents,” Lan Qiren snarled, got to his feet and left this infernal building. If he never saw Wei Wuxian again, it would be too soon.

Chapter Text

Boredom came easily to Wei Wuxian. It was his most natural state, excluding sudden bursts of intense activity. When he wasn’t up to some scheme or completely overtaken by research, boredom lingered like slow torture. However, boredom was still preferential to the burning anger threatening to consume him when he thought a little too long about his situation. Lan Qiren hadn’t said a single lie, but he had no right to shout accusations at Wei Wuxian, no matter how truthful, not when he was only lashing out to hurt Wei Wuxian. For a man so determined by his rules and paradigms, he disregarded them rashly when it came to Wei Wuxian.

He understood wanting to take revenge, digging your hands into someone’s ribcage to rip out their heart and have them feast on it, but that would be too straightforward and immoral for Lan Qiren. Wei Wuxian had spent the last weeks pleasantly surprised that Lan Qiren hadn’t beheaded him on sight, but he loathed the hypocrisy. If Lan Qiren wanted to hate him for all his deeds, then that was his right, but not for Wei Wuxian attempting to help. Even the most blind of cultivators would’ve seen that Wei Wuxian had only wanted to help.

But that was how it always started, wasn’t it? Wei Wuxian tried to help someone and the attempt ruined everything. Perhaps the only person Wei Wuxian was truly capable of helping was himself and the undead.

Instead of lingering on Lan Qiren and his actions, Wei Wuxian returned to his routine, strengthening Wang Chunhua’s core, clearing her meridians. It was interesting how much you could learn about a person just by becoming intimately familiar with their body. Wang Chunhua had nothing on her cousin, but she was a natural beauty according to all standards as long as she remained covered by her robes. Her skin beneath was less pleasant to look at but familiar all the same. Knife cuts littered her body, most of them looking to be self-inflicted. Wei Wuxian had wondered whether she’d attempted to self-harm at first, but no, intense study of the marks had shown them to connect to the meridians. They felt like an experiment gone wrong, like something he’d written down fucking around with his own meridians and ways to make the resentment follow his orders. He hadn’t just used blood in his talismans because it was convenient and always at hand, but also because his own blood tethered to him; it was a connection not so easily broken.

Sighing, Wei Wuxian stared at the marks on her torso. “Did you get into my writings, Wang Chunhua?” Wei Wuxian muttered, but his reflection, the pretty young woman with the odd scars, didn’t answer.

Wei Wuxian honestly didn’t want to think back to the time in the Burial Mounds and the mad inventions he’d made then, but perhaps this was the only way to figure out how he’d gotten into this situation.

“What a mess,” he said, turning away from his mirror. Then, just when he wanted to drop on his bed, he heard knocking.

“Difu, are you there?”

Wei Wuxian stood frozen, one leg on his bed to climb into it. That was Lan Xichen’s voice, he was sure.

Ah, had Lan Qiren confessed his secrets?

Wei Wuxian contemplated opening the door just as he was dressed now, robes only loosely bound at his waist, showing most of his torso. The scandalized looks would be amusing, but the disrespect might be too much. Even if this body didn’t belong to Wang Chunhua anymore, he should put some effort into maintaining its appearance, for it was his own coffin now. Besides, Wei Wuxian thought, the Lan’s reputation would never recover if whatever contingent Lan Xichen had brought with him would die from a heart attack at seeing the Yiling Patriarch’s tits.

Grinning, We Wuxian called back. “A moment, Sect Leader Lan.”

He adjusted his robes, then grabbed another layer. Checking his appearance, Wei Wuxian decided that he might as well go all out. Dressing himself to station took a little longer than polite, but at least he wouldn’t cause a scandal. He’d died in rags once, there was no need to repeat the experience.

Finished, he opened the door.

He expected Lan Xichen, his Elders, some Seniors, all perfectly capable of tying him down.

He did not expect Lan Xichen with a warm meal carried by a-Yuan.

Blinking, Wei Wuxian needed a moment to comprehend what he was seeing. He stepped aside on autopilot, letting the two enter.

“I’m honored by your visit, Sect Leader Lan, and it’s always nice to see you a-Yuan, but I did not expect either of you…?”

Lan Xichen smiled, perfectly pleasant and not at all like someone who might be out to execute the Yiling Patriarch. “I passed the kitchens on my way to my midday meal with a-Yuan. They said shufu hadn’t been by to bring you your meal yet, so we figured it would be appreciated if we did so. I apologize for bargaining in, difu.”

Lan Xichen truly was too good.

“No need to apologize, Sect Leader Lan. I appreciate the company.”

They took their meals in silence as customary for the Lan. Wei Wuxian had hated it as a student, used to the busy and boisterous meals at Lotus Pier. He still preferred to talk, but he could appreciate the quiet and being able to just take in a-Yuan’s presence. Cheeky child, he must have remembered when Lan Qiren went to deliver Wei Wuxian’s meals and directed Lan Xichen accordingly. The boy was quite the schemer!

Even after finishing, Lan Xichen still smiled warmly at Wei Wuxian. Considering that and the fact that Wei Wuxian had yet to meet a Lan capable of acting, he concluded that Lan Xichen was still entirely unaware of Wei Wuxian’s presence. Well, he supposed that meant he ought to do his best to be a dutiful sister-in-law. Lan Qiren better appreciate how much effort Wei Wuxian was putting into his performance. Wei Wuxian even poured the tea as elegantly as his shimei used to.

“Shufu has told me that you were feeling unwell. It is an oversight on my part that I haven’t come to see you myself yet. A-Yuan ratified that mistake.”

A-Yuan beamed like a good child and Lan Xichen patted the boy’s head affectionately. “I hope you can forgive me.”

Wei Wuxian inclined his head. “There is nothing to forgive, Sect Leader Lan. You have your duties and the whole sect suffers if you put them aside. I have been much better thanks to your uncle’s care.”

What a bitter lie, but Wei Wuxian didn’t mind it. Let it all blow up in Lan Qiren’s face when they were discovered. The Lan couldn’t do worse than Wei Wuxian had done to himself the first time round, or as the curse might do.

“I am glad to hear that. We were worried and… I will apologize for Wangji’s absence.”

Right, it might be expected that his husband—Wang Chunhua’s husband cared for her.

“I do not mind,” Wei Wuxian replied, playing the part of the demure wife. Lan Qiren should’ve given him some pointers about Wang Chunhua’s behavior just in case, honestly. “My husband is saving people in great danger. There is no reason for him to remain here when I am of little use to him.”

At least, that was Wei Wuxian’s assumption of what was expected of Lan Zhan’s wife. He’d never seen many female Lan disciples, even during the war where every blade counted. Privately, he guessed that because of the strict gender separation, the female disciples received a less battle-focused education, weren’t pushed quite as much as their male counterparts and thus, in the end, were not up to standard. Madam Yu never would’ve stood for that at Lotus Pier. Either you kept up or got put down, as easy as that.

“Still, I need to apologize,” Lan Xichen insisted. “If anything troubles you, do not hesitate to call upon help. Seclusion can be quite lonely and I’m sure some joy will be helpful.” At that, Lan Xichen looked at a-Yuan, who immediately brightened.

Wei Wuxian felt his own smile soften. “Yes, the presence of small little Lan is always appreciated if they have finished all their chores for the day.”

“I did! Together with Jingyi, we share many of them.”

“And who is Jingyi?”

“Lan Jingyi is my best friend,” a-Yuan proclaimed and, after some encouraging words, shared many stories of all the troubles they got into. Well, they were little Lan, so they didn’t get into trouble as much as they made adorable little mistakes, but the principle was the same.

Quicker than Wei Wuxian could’ve guessed, the midday sun turned into afternoon shine.

“I enjoyed our talk, difu,” Lan Xichen said, beginning the first sequence to an elaborate goodbye. “I will confess, I worried about how difficult it must be for you to adjust from disciple in the Jin to your position here, but I am glad to see I didn’t entirely misjudge this union.”

“Not entirely?” Wei Wuxian echoed. “Forgive me my directness, Sect Leader, but what are you referring to?”

Lan Xichen’s smile faltered slightly, the first expression he’d made today that wasn’t perfectly polite and happy. “I know this marriage wasn’t necessarily your choice either, difu. I was told by your shidi that you had a keen mind and would’ve preferred to remain with your studies.”

His shidi? How interesting. “Who was it?”

“Mo Xuanyu,” Lan Xichen answered. “He said he missed working with you. I know you are meant to be in seclusion, but please, feel free to make use of our library.”

Mo Xuanyu, Mo Xuanyu—ah, Wei Wuxian couldn’t claim to recognize the name. He’d have to look into it later.

“You are much too kind, Sect Leader,” Wei Wuxian replied. Having the Lan library in his hand would help figure out just what Wang Chunhua did with the array and how far the cultivation world had come in adapting Wei Wuxian’s original techniques. Just because the Lan devoted themselves to the orthodoxy, didn’t mean that the glaring gaps of what they didn’t talk about didn’t speak volumes for Wei Wuxian.

Lan Xichen only held up his hand as if to keep Wei Wuxian from further praising him. “You are part of this family, I only do as is correct. If you miss company, either of us will be glad to spend it with you.”

Wei Wuxian did his best to tame his grin into a smile. “I’ll happily take you up on that offer.”

Lan Qiren, predictably, was not happy that Wei Wuxian had gotten himself a free pass for wandering into the library and access to a-Yuan, but it wasn’t like he could stop it now that it was sanctioned by his sect leader. Uncle and Elder or not, it would raise suspicion for Lan Qiren to pass judgment on Wang Chunhua, who was so well-behaved if a little sickly.

“Don’t worry your head, old man,” Wei Wuxian told him flippantly, looking through the texts he’d taken from the library. “I won’t act out.”

Of course, there had been looks and whispers about Wang Chunhua’s appearance, but proper as the Lan were, nothing mean had been said to his face. Wei Wuxian expected to feel odd stepping into public as Wang Chunhua, but to his surprise, playing his part became easy enough. He had to watch his posture a little more, speak softer, but he’d trailed Shijie often enough in childhood that he could mimic what was expected of her then and of him now.

Crafting himself in her image hurt, not because of the acts themselves, but because it was her he was imitating. She had died for him, a fine repayment for all the years Jiang Yanli had cared for him almost like a mother, as no one else decided to pick up the role. Lingering on any thought of her for too long hurt, so Wei Wuxian did what he did best and spent hours researching in the library instead.

Sometimes, a-Yuan and his little friend came to join him and Wei Wuxian let himself be distracted helping them write their characters. From these interactions, Wei Wuxian gathered that Lan Zhan must have instructed a-Yuan to treat Wang Chunhua kindly, likely to make up for his absence. Perhaps the two had agreed about their living arrangements as Wei Wuxian could hardly imagine what woman would want to be kind to her husband’s bastard and heir if she expected her own children to inherit. If Wang Chunhua and Lan Zhan were in agreement about their lack of relationship, a-Yuan’s eagerness would make a lot more sense.

Then again, Wang Chunhua’s letter suggested a severe dislike of Lan Zhan.

“Your presence alone is a disturbance,” Lan Qiren harrumphed, though it lacked the usual bitterness. After his outburst, he’d quieted again, first in silent treatment of Wei Wuxian, then his demeanor in general.

“And yet you tolerate it in the classroom.”

At least a little. Wei Wuxian had been startled to discover his classifications for various types of restless spirits and yao had made it into the Lan curriculum, together with some of his more acceptable ways of detecting and dealing with them. All of the suggestions had been penned in Lan Wangji’s hand too, the tone almost a little mean, daring instructors to devise something more efficient if they didn’t want to use Wei Wuxian’s methods. He hadn’t known Lan Zhan could hide so much sass in what was otherwise a neutral proposal, or that he cared enough about the positive parts of Wei Wuxian’s legacy to publicize it.

Unfortunately, that was the extent of Wei Wuxian’s writings in the Cloud Recesses.

Lan Qiren did not sigh, but the controlled breath he took was close enough to one that Wei Wuxian counted it as a win.

“The issue was never your intelligence. It was your utter disregard for boundaries and all things sacred.”

Wei Wuxian’s fingers twitched. He did not resort to curses. Curses were for cowards, who refused to get their hands dirty themselves. If Wei Wuxian wanted to hurt someone, he did it himself right in the open.

“We can discuss that again if you want or we can return to our problem at hand,” Wei Wuxian said instead of starting another fight. “You don’t have anything in your library that explains how Wang Chunhua created this array, which means that she either was already in possession of it or created it herself. In any case, she’d been practicing demonic cultivation for a while—”

“What?” Lan Qiren interrupted him harshly.

Wei Wuxian paused. Hadn’t he told the old man? Wait, no, Lan Qiren had decided to throw a fit over Wei Wuxian pointing out how easily it was to overrun the Cloud Recesses if you really wanted to.

“Her meridians were a mess before I put them back together, which likely explains why her writing was so erratic. She wasn’t entirely sane anymore.”

Had she been, maybe she would’ve summoned Wei Wuxian with the intention of massacre, or had avoided summoning him at all and done it herself.

“Anyway, this means we ought to look at where Wang Chunhua came from and learned demonic cultivation. Lan Xichen told me she used to work with a boy called Mo Xuanyu? I say we question him first.”

Unsurprisingly, Lan Qiren’s face soured. “You cannot be suggesting that the Jin are training demonic cultivators.”

“Well, the Lan certainly didn’t take my writings from the Burial Mounds and Jin Guangshan has always been interested in the Yin Tiger Seal. Would it be such a stretch to assume he trained people?”

“Jin Guangshan has been dead for two years now, even if he had told disciples to meddle in the unorthodox, they’d have ceased by now.”

Wei Wuxian blinked. “Maybe it continued under whoever is in charge now? I assume Jin Guangyao took over sect leadership?”

It certainly wouldn’t be Jin Rulan, only a child himself.

Somehow, Lan Qiren managed to look somewhere between enraged and considering. “My nephew’s sworn brother—”

Ah, so it was the issue of a trusted close ally potentially betraying him. Wei Wuxian waved his hand dismissively. “It could be someone else easily. Koi Tower is a snake pit, I wouldn’t put it past them to have several ambitious fools arranging things in the shadows. In any case, we ought to speak to this Mo Xuanyu.”

Lan Qiren turned an interesting shade of purple. “We are going nowhere!”

Grinning, Wei Wuxian leaned back, echoing the words Lan Qiren had thrown at him so many weeks ago. “Teacher Lan, as I see it, we are stuck here with each other until we figure this out – and you haven’t done a lot of figuring out yet. So how about it? Wang Chunhua should visit the sect that taught her so well and I’m sure the esteemed Lan Qiren can think of a reason to visit Koi Tower.”

If the answers couldn’t be found here, they’d simply have to search for them outside these walls.

Chapter Text

Days after his abrupt fight with Wei Wuxian, Lan Qiren considered himself a fool for not taking the risk and ending Wei Wuxian’s second life before it could begin anew. It would’ve made things easier, allowed Lan Qiren to continue his life as he had, not worrying about discovery or when Wei Wuxian might fall back into his old habits, bringing death and ruination over his family again.

Instead, Lan Qiren was left watching as Wei Wuxian integrated himself into the Lan sect with terrifying efficiency and an unexpected ease. He didn’t break a single rule outside of his house or even encourage foolhardy behavior in front of the young disciples, of which a staggering amount found their place at Wei Wuxian’s side as time progressed. At first, it had just been a-Yuan and Lan Jingyi, but now their agemates followed them into the library for small study sessions and even older disciples shily approached Wei Wuxian with their questions.

Wei Wuxian was patient with them, steady like an old tree trunk, explaining even difficult problems in metaphors and manners that much younger and less studied children could follow them. It was as if catching a glimpse into an alternate time, one where he never abandoned his calling as the Jiang’s Head Disciple in his arrogance.

Lan Yuchen, who’d been held back from progressing in his studies after failing to pass an exam for the second time, scrunched up his face as he followed Wei Wuxian’s improvised lecture. “But why is liberation followed by suppression and then elimination? It is much more dangerous to attempt the liberation of a vengeful spirit when it only wants to hurt you. I am meant to protect my shidi on a nighthunt, should I not go for elimination first when it is easier?”

Lan Qiren recalled asking a question of similar nature nearly a decade ago, the frivolous and damning answer Wei Wuxian had given even then. He stepped forward, intending to interrupt before Wei Wuxian had the chance to corrupt this generation with his ideas as well.

“Does it not say ‘love all beings’ in the list of rules you are meant to read every night?” Wei Wuxian spoke before Lan Qiren had the chance to interrupt. “Resentment is born from neglect and injury, be that of a beautiful and ancient tree cut down unjustly in greed or a woman left for dead by her lover. Resentful beings aren’t born as such, they are made.”

Wei Wuxian had given himself away by his cadence, the bloody array containing him, but the softness his voice carried now was entirely foreign to Lan Qiren.

“Rarely do they genuinely want to be angry, but what do you have left when you have had your entire life taken from you? So you cling to your anger and resentment because it’s all you still have, lashing out because nobody noticed the damage done to you. It would be easier to immediately attempt the elimination of every spirit we come across, but that would be to deny the hurt they experienced. That is why we must seek to liberate these spirits first, and acknowledge their hurt. If we cannot liberate them, we suppress them in hopes of finding a better solution in the future. It is only under the direst circumstances that we eliminate these souls. Once eliminated, there is no chance for them to enter the reincarnation cycle, so it is not the easiest option.”

Lan Yuchen nodded slowly and returned to his paper to take notes. Wei Wuxian’s answer wasn’t textbook perfect, but it contained all the relevant reasons why they followed the three-step in this manner. Where was the arrogance of the boy claiming a fourth path?

The conversation drifted back to easier topics, writing assignments, and proofreading. It wouldn’t do for Lan Qiren to be caught eavesdropping. He had only so much leeway as a worried Elder as Wang Chunhua and Wei Wuxian had yet to be caught in the middle of unorthodoxy by anyone else. Pretending to be concerned about Wei Wuxian’s health proved a feeble excuse and since he still had his own duties to fulfill, he returned to his routine, hoping the attending librarian would interrupt should the lesson grow into the heretic.

When Lan Qiren came to pick Wei Wuxian up before dinner, the circle of students had grown smaller again, and the watching disciple had nothing but praise for Lan-er-furen, congratulating Lan Qiren on arranging such an auspicious match for his nephew. Lan Qiren accepted the praise in what must seem like humbleness, but was his utmost attempt to avoid scoffing in bitterness.

He started bringing Wei Wuxian his food in person again instead of just leaving it, mostly to keep an eye on Wei Wuxian now that he’d arranged free reign of his territory. Wei Wuxian left the change in routine uncommented for some reason, though his sly smile spoke for itself. Unfortunately, often enough, dinner plans were disrupted by his own ignorant family. Lan Xichen took it upon himself to bring his sister-in-law into the family as Lan Wangji’s absence continued. Infuriatingly, Wei Wuxian acted perfectly polite, displaying a restraint and thoughtfulness that Lan Qiren thought him incapable of. His teacup was never empty, Wei Wuxian quietly filling it up whenever it threatened emptiness. Were this Wang Chunhua, Lan Qiren might actually consider her an adequate niece-in-law.

Even after their silent meal passed, Wei Wuxian continued with his calm demeanor, speaking up only when spoken to or in encouragement of Lan Yuan. Lan Qiren couldn’t prove that Wei Wuxian did so only to anger him, but his soft and sweet smiles were enough to convince him of it.

“Difu,” Lan Xichen spoke once Lan Yuan had finished narrating his studies of the day and began playing on his guqin for them. Lan Yuan was easily outdoing his classmates in these lessons and would soon require more attentive targeted tutoring than he received now. “If it is no bother, I was wondering if I could speak to you and shufu on another matter.”

Wei Wuxian blinked, clearly surprised, which should ease Lan Qiren’s worries except for the fact that he also had no idea what Lan Xichen could address that he needed to speak to the both of them. Had Lan Wangji decided his wanderings had gone on for too long and announced he’d finally return home? Even if the air between them was still as frosty as the deepest winter, Lan Qiren missed his nephew. Lan Wangji could choose to hate him for the rest of his life and Lan Qiren would still love him more than his own life.

“A-Yao has asked whether Gusu Lan would be agreeable to hosting this year’s discussion conference,” Lan Xichen said. “It pained him to admit, but handling the duties of the Chief Cultivator, Lanling Jin Sect Leader and a new father are troubling even for him. Qinghe Nie and Yunmeng Jiang are both capable of hosting, but I believe they’d prefer to be given more time to return to their former station.”

As far as Lan Qiren knew, Lotus Pier was still rebuilding, if not in buildings, then in trustworthy servants, and Qinghe Nie had never been in more disarray. Often enough had Lan Qiren covered for his nephew so Lan Xichen could aid Nie Huaisang in sect matters the young man hadn’t ever received training in. The discussion conference was still some time off, but not so long that Wei Wuxian would be gone by them. As Lan Wangji’s wife, and tie to two other sects, they could hardly shuffle him away.

“I am uncertain whether the Cloud Recesses has recovered enough to host a meeting between all the sects,” Lan Qiren commented. That was fact, regardless of Wei Wuxian’s presence in the Cloud Recesses. “It requires careful preparation and more capable hands than we might have.”

Lan Wangji certainly wouldn’t help, not when he regarded at least half the sects in attendance as hostile. He might do his duty, wouldn’t break the rules over it, but his personal conduct would be insufficient.

Lan Xichen smiled. “Shufu, you forget that it won’t be just you and me preparing the conference this time.”

Slowly, like fog over the lake, realization washed over Lan Qiren as Lan Xichen turned to Wei Wuxian. He still dressed to his own preference, darker colors and less elaborate hairstyles than would be appropriate for his station as Lan Wangji’s wife, yet more and more of Gusu Lan’s typical attire had accumulated in Wei Wuxian’s wardrobe as servants and disciples from the woman’s side hoped to make a good impression. Wei Wuxian didn’t look entirely like their own yet, but from Lan Xichen’s point of view, it was only a matter of showing his sister-in-law that despite her husband’s absence, she was not forgotten.

Lan Qiren saw all of this and thought of Wei Wuxian trying to make himself at home in a foreign body while disguising his identity, but Lan Xichen couldn’t recognize it to no one’s fault but Lan Qiren’s.

“Difu, it has been much too long since Gusu Lan had someone capable of taking over the duties that would usually fall to a sect leader’s wife. Various cousins have filled the role when needed, but this wasn’t ever supposed to be their duty. I am still unmarried, but I hope that I can rely on you as my brother’s wife.”

Wei Wuxian spluttered, breaking the previously so well-maintained façade of a gentry woman. It shouldn’t fill Lan Qiren with relief that, at the very least, Wei Wuxian hadn’t aimed for this outcome.

“I must misunderstand?” Wei Wuxian offered a little helplessly. “Dabo, you can’t mean to task me in aiding you with the preparation? I have never even helped organize a smaller meeting, never mind something of such importance. I’d be sure to harm the reputation of Gusu Lan.”

Wei Wuxian’s eyes darted to Lan Qiren, clearly asking for some backup. For once, the two of them were of the same opinion. It would harm Gusu Lan’s reputation if the Yiling Patriarch, of all people, ended up aiding the preparation of a discussion conference for all the sects that wanted him dead.

“Zhixifu has just come out of seclusion,” Lan Qiren pointed out, playing the part of the concerned in-law he’d be under any other circumstances. “It might be rash to ask her to shoulder such responsibility when her health might not be recovered yet. It might be better to simply let her observe the proceedings this time.”

Lan Xichen paused, genuine concern showing, before he quickly schooled his expression into something more subdued and appropriate for a conversation with a child listening in. Lan Yuan might be pretending to focus on his guqin scores, but Lan Qiren had observed him and Lan Jingyi often enough to know they were quite capable of absorbing the most interesting of conversations when they should be busy with another matter. “You are correct, shufu. I apologize for assuming to put so much strain on you, difu.”

Wei Wuxian smiled placatingly. “There is no need to apologize. I do want to aid you in any way I can, but I believe I’d be overreaching in attempting to help host such an event so soon, though I’d still like to learn what is expected of me.”

The answer was perfectly polite and acceptable, yet Lan Qiren couldn’t help but think that Wei Wuxian was up to something.

“I might be overreaching with this question,” Wei Wuxian started slowly, lowering his eyes as if genuinely hesitant to speak up. “But Sect Leader Jin is also the only Great Sect leader currently married?”

“Yes,” Lan Xichen replied. “He married Qin Su of Laoling Qin. They have a young son together as of this year.”

Lan Xichen was particularly close to Jin Rusong, treating the boy nearly as dear as if he were his own and not just the son of his sworn brother. Lan Qiren had hoped that this treatment was the sign that Lan Xichen would wish to settle down with a wife soon too, but so far, Lan Xichen had declined every marriage offer for himself as he always had.

“Then, if I may be bold, is there a chance I could visit Qin Su and ask her about her duties? I believe I’d greatly benefit learning from her and I could hardly bother her into asking whether she might travel to Gusu to instruct me when she has just had her son.” Then, without even giving Lan Qiren the chance to interfere, Wei Wuxian brazenly continued. “Shufu could accompany me. He has wished to speak with the head librarian in Lanling Jin about the possibility of an exchange to help rebuild the library here.”

And then Wei Wuxian had the absolute gall to look at Lan Qiren with an apologetic smile. “He has asked me to keep quiet about it as he didn’t want to deprive you of yet another helping hand, but I believe that among family, it is best to be honest when you are troubled.”

Lan Xichen, his dear sweet nephew, only clapped his hands. “Oh! That is a wonderful idea, difu. If shufu wanted to travel there anyway, the two of you can go together. One of the Senior disciples can accompany you.”

“I don’t—”

Wei Wuxian interrupted Lan Qiren with a sweet laugh that stung like needles in his ears. “Dabo, you need not spare a disciple to travel with us. You’ll need them here to help you prepare and shufu and I will be fine on our own.”

Wei Wuxian gifted Lan Xichen a winning smile, convincing him without much effort. Once this entire affair had passed, Lan Qiren would apologize to his ancestors and tell Lan Xichen to copy all rules pertaining to quick decision-making.

“You are too kind,” Lan Xichen agreed. “I shall immediately write to a-Yao and tell him we are willing to host, and inquire about potential lessons for you.”

Wei Wuxian didn’t grin like a foolish teenage boy but smiled like the cat that got the cream.

Once again, Lan Qiren had hesitated for too long in reprimanding Wei Wuxian about his harebrained scheme and leaving the Cloud Recesses. He’d been outmaneuvered efficiently.

He’d definitely get Wei Wuxian back for this.

Chapter Text

Wei Wuxian was beyond satisfied with himself. He’d successfully maneuvered his way out of the little cottage he was imprisoned in, putting on a spectacular improvised performance while he was at it, gotten himself Lan Xichen’s trust and a way out of the Cloud Recesses, all without spilling a single drop of blood. Well, that wasn’t entirely true – he had spilled some blood preparing talismans, but what Lan Qiren didn’t know, couldn’t send him into a suspiciously early grave.

Most importantly, Wei Wuxian could finally start figuring out what had gone down since his death. Learning that Jin Guanshan was dead was a happy surprise, learning that Nie Mingjue had also passed was a different matter. He’d respected Nie Mingjue as a war general, but little of that respect had remained in the aftermath. Nie Huaisang, however, Wei Wuxian couldn’t help but feel sorry for. He’d been lazy but clever. Nobody could have that much free time, hobbies requiring a steady hand and an endless supply of smuggled forbidden books without having some wits. However, he seemed like an unfortunate choice for a sect leader. It was no surprise that he was in so much trouble after needing to accept the role so suddenly with little preparation.

After so long in the Cloud Recesses – longer than he had managed to stay the last time – he was glad to finally leave this place and see the world anew. He hadn’t grown particularly fond of the three thousand rules governing this place, but some people were alright. Little Lan Yuchen, who would’ve made a great Jiang disciple in another life, and even the women who’d quietly dragged Wei Wuxian into their circle.

As a teenage boy, he probably would’ve been amused at stumbling through the woman’s quarters, as an adult stuck in the body of a woman that was so fun to dress up, and knowledgeable in the arts and don’t worry, Lan-er-furen, when your husband returns, he won’t be able to take his eyes from you! … he had a different experience.

Mortified didn’t quite the extent of Wei Wuxian’s distress when they attempted to advise him on his marital relations. Apparently, even while governed by, in some ways, stricter rules for propriety, the women in the Cloud Recesses were much blunter in other matters. When Wei Wuxian had gotten his blushing under control enough to formulate these thoughts, he was met with amusement.

“Lan-er-furen, the bulk of the child raising is left to us. If you think I will consult the ancestors’ wisdom before yelling after my son before he runs out of the room butt-naked, you might want to reevaluate your expectations.”

Zhou Xiang poked the cheeks of the baby sleeping soundly in Wei Wuxian’s arms. He’d been told, rather bluntly, that the baby, much like his older brother, had been an unplanned late surprise. Wei Wuxian had rarely interacted with children this young, just having learned to walk. Even a-Yuan had been older already when Wei Wuxian got to hold him like this. Truly, the only instance he could recall was years ago, before he’d even been made head disciple. One of the senior disciples at Lotus Pier had just had a baby and Wei Wuxian had been caught in some mischief, so she’d made Wei Wuxian help her with the baby for the entire day.

“I see,” Wei Wuxian replied slowly, never entirely taking his eyes off the child he was entrusted with.

“Don’t worry about it. When it is your time, you’ll make a good mother. Xiao Yuan already loves you.”

And Wei Wuxian was back to blushing furiously. He’d wanted a family, but it was one thing to dream about it when he’d been the respected ward of a sect leader, and a whole other matter when he—his body was married to Lan Zhan!

Zhou Xiang laughed at Wei Wuxian’s distress, misinterpreting it, but it still eased the tension of the day. She’d been among the first to approach Wei Wuxian once it had trickled through that Lan-er-furen would take a more productive role in the sect. From her reaction, Wei Wuxian had gathered that Wang Chunhua had been solitary. Not necessarily mean-spirited to anyone in the sect, but avoidant. Given Wei Wuxian hadn’t picked up those tendencies, it seemed that Zhou Xiang concluded that Wang Chunhua simply hadn’t known how to react to being thrust into a sect so unlike her own, with a husband set on avoiding her too. Having married into the Lan sect herself, and with one of her children being a-Yuan’s most dear friend, she’d appointed herself Wei Wuxian’s guide and friend.

Wei Wuxian had never been at the receiving end of aggressive attempts at befriending someone, but he understood now why it might come across as abrasive. Still, Zhou Xiang had become a friend and while he couldn’t wait to leave the Cloud Recesses, he’d miss her.

She helped him pack while their sons played, scrutinizing and subtly criticizing the clothes Wei Wuxian had in his wardrobe. The last time she’d commented on any of his robes, he’d suspiciously gained a new set appropriate for a sect’s madam and entirely unpractical for Wei Wuxian. He hoped that it wouldn’t lead to the same result again.

Once Wei Wuxian was all packed, Zhou Xiang wished him well on his travels and told him to write if he wanted someone to talk to that wasn’t Lan Qiren. Her exact words were something more along the lines of an old goat, who wouldn’t know what goes on in the mind of a woman if he tried to empathize, before promptly telling her son that he was not to speak disrespectfully of his elders until he could back it up with skill. Given that Lan Jingyi was already dead set on speaking his mind in the classroom anyway, Wei Wuxian had little faith that the boy wouldn’t repeat his mother’s words.

And then, after a day of preparation, it was only him and a-Yuan.

If Wei Wuxian could, he would take the boy with him, but whatever they were to uncover in Lanling would not be child-friendly in any way, and Wei Wuxian wouldn’t risk a-Yuan. Also, there was still a chance that Lan Qiren might snap and stab him, which Wei Wuxian honestly couldn’t begrudge him, and letting a-Yuan see that seemed like irresponsible parenting.

“Do you really have to go, muqin?” a-Yuan asked. The boy was clearly trying to keep the whiny tone out of his voice, but he only succeeded halfway, as his voice might be neutral, but his expression was everything but.

He didn’t look like he would start crying, but he certainly had the pitifully downtrodden eyes, an expression Wei Wuxian remembered from the Burial Mounds all too well. In retrospect, he’d been a little surprised that he’d managed to recognize a-Yuan so easily when his son was much older now and had no recollection of Wei Wuxian, yet so many of his behaviors were all the same as they used to be, just packed up in a Lan sized package.

If Wei Wuxian ever saw Lan Zhan face to face again, he’d thank him for raising a-Yuan so well. Not just saving him, but giving him a home and a father.

“Come here,” Wei Wuxian told a-Yuan and opened his arms wide. In front of the other sect members, he had to pretend, but when it was just him and a-Yuan, there was little need for disguises.

Without hesitance, a-Yuan tossed himself into Wei Wuxian’s arms, sending them both stumbling backward until Wei Wuxian had a lap full of crying child.

Three months weren’t long at all, but apparently enough for a child to get attached. Quietly, Wei Wuxian wondered whether a-Yuan recognized him subconsciously, but that was probably too much to ask for.

“I’ll be back as soon as possible and if I take too long, I’ll write you.”

A-Yuan sniffed. “Like a-Die?”

Wei Wuxian nodded. “Yeah, just like a-Die.”

Lan Zhan seemed to write a-Yuan at least once a week, perhaps even more often given the frequency at which the letters arrived. A-Yuan had begun to take them to Wei Wuxian to read together. Wei Wuxian had no idea if a-Yuan had realized that Wei Wuxian wasn’t getting any letters from Lan Zhan or if he just enjoyed the bonding activity. Lan Zhan wrote about the people he helped and asked about a-Yuan’s interests. He mentioned Wang Chunhua only once in every letter, telling a-Yuan to remain respectful. It seemed as close as Lan Zhan could get to telling his son that he should just avoid Wang Chunhua if he didn’t desire to spend any time with her. Fortunately for Wei Wuxian, a-Yuan was a dear and hadn’t understood the implication, taking it as his father asking to look after his new mother.

Deviously smart as he was, or perhaps as weak as Wei Wuxian was to tears, a-Yuan managed to wring promises of gifts from him. And if a-Yuan spent the night curled up next to Wei Wuxian, that was their little secret.

In the morning, Wei Wuxian dressed and enjoyed Lan Qiren’s tight expression when he delivered their breakfast. After that, a-Yuan had to hurry to his lesson, leaving the adults behind.

“Have you finished packing?” Wei Wuxian asked Lan Qiren.

“Yes. I hope I need not remind you that you are to act appropriately—”

Wei Wuxian waved his hand dismissively. “Yes, yes, act appropriately, do not slander the Lan, none of your heretics. I remember the list.”

It had been a very long list, potentially longer than any copy of the rules Wei Wuxian had ever made as a student. After their talk with Lan Xichen, Lan Qiren had lectured him extensively. Wei Wuxian had ceased paying attention sometime after the fifth sentence, but Lan Qiren had gone on for a shichen. Wei Wuxian figured that if he got it out of his system early enough, the rest of their travels would hopefully be less suffocating.

“Your list reminds me of something else, however.” Wei Wuxian tilted his head. Three months he’d spent in Wang Chunhua’s home, collecting new robes and gifts from a-Yuan and his own notes.

Lan Qiren had yet to return all of Wang Chunhua’s items.

“Where exactly is Wang Chunhua’s sword?”

Lan Qiren’s eyes narrowed. “Why? What do you want with it?”

Wei Wuxian blinked. Wasn’t that obvious? “Given that I am not to use my ‘wicked tricks’, I will need some way to defend myself. Besides, it’ll be suspicious if I return to the sect that trained me without a sword. So?”

And if Wei Wuxian was honest, he was also itching to fight with a sword again. He’d never regret his actions, but he missed the rush of wielding a blade. He didn’t have to make excuses and pretend anymore, didn’t have to deny a sword. If it led to Lan Qiren believing that somehow his bland and bitter food had reformed Wei Wuxian to return the sword path, then that was just fine.

Lan Qiren studied him a moment longer, then bit out, “Fine.”

Surprisingly, he only reached into his qiankun bag to retrieve the blade. It wasn’t anything special, and had clearly belonged to Wang Chunhua before her sect had been taken in by the Jin as it showed none of the typical embellishment even the swords of outer Jin disciples had. Still, the balance was adequate, and it submitted to Wei Wuxian easily enough. For all that Wang Chunhua had trained with the sword, it couldn’t have been too intensively. The sword spirit noticed that Wei Wuxian wasn’t her, but sensing perhaps how happy Wei Wuxian was to carry a sword again, it let him wield the sword almost with as much ease as he used to carry Suibian.

Wei Wuxian grinned. The sun shone down on him and the temperature was mild, ideal for travel.

After their extensive preparations, they bid Lan Xichen farewell and descended from the Cloud Recesses.

Chapter Text

Foolishly, perhaps, Wei Wuxian assumed they’d be traveling by foot or sword, but as soon as they’d descended from the mountain, Lan Qiren led them to the nearest stable and rented two horses for them to use. Wei Wuxian’s mare, aptly named Little Spring, was an absolute dear and if she needed a break more often than Lan Qiren’s horse because she longed to graze alongside the road, then that was in no way Wei Wuxian’s fault and he shouldn’t be made responsible for it.

“At this pace, we’ll arrive in Lanling in a week,” Lan Qiren announced over their evening meal. Instead of camping in the wilderness, saving money and avoiding contact with other people, Lan Qiren chose an inn of good quality. It wasn’t as lavish as those the Jin preferred, or as cheap as the ones Wei Wuxian frequented after blowing money on trinkets and toys after a nighthunt well done, but it was comfortable.

So far, this little expedition honestly hadn’t lived up to his expectations.

“I suppose a couple days of delay will not raise any suspicion then, Wei Wuxian mused, pouring himself more wine. For all that Wang Chunhua’s body was entirely unfamiliar in some ways, wine tasted just the same. Wei Wuxian hadn’t ever been more grateful to be greeted by familiarity.

Lan Qiren’s eyes narrowed. “Why should we delay?”

“To visit Yiling,” Wei Wuxian said. He looked down at his hands. Since fixing his meridians and working on his golden core, the scarring had lessened to the point it was barely noticeable anymore. The long sleeves on the Lan robes had helped conceal it, but Wei Wuxian was relieved to wear his own bracers again. Well, they were Wang Chunhua’s, but that was close enough nowadays.

Lan Qiren huffed. “What do you want in Yiling?”

He hadn’t raised his voice, but he hadn’t kept it down either, drawing the attention of the other guests of the inn.

“If we want answers, we should go there first,” Wei Wuxian simply replied, not going into detail. Truthfully, Wei Wuxian hoped to recall more of the time in the Burial Mounds, even if the memories weren’t particularly kind. On top of that, it would give them insight into what had happened with the place, if the Jin had truly taken all of his notes.

“Excuse me, did you say you were heading for Yiling?” a deep voice came from the side.

Wei Wuxian and Lan Qiren turned to find a tall man with a sword at his side approaching them. Wei Wuxian couldn’t make out any sect insignia, not even something resembling a sect unknown to him. The man had to be a rogue cultivator. He was well dressed and his sword was of good quality too. If this was what rogue cultivators looked like nowadays, Wei Wuxian didn’t know why sect cultivators always spoke so derisive of them.

“You are Lan cultivators, aren’t you?”

“Yes, to both,” Wei Wuxian replied before Lan Qiren could and offered the stranger a spot at their table and his alcohol, of which the man only declined the latter.

“I just came from the direction of Yiling and was on my way to speak to the Chief Cultivator.”

“Oh?”

Wei Wuxian leaned forward in a manner he supposed showed Wang Chunhua’s assets quite well. “Has something concerning happened in Yiling?”

The stranger nodded, his eyes lingering a second too long to be called appropriate. “Local farmers said that fierce corpses have been bothering them as they hadn’t since before the Yiling Patriarch took over. Ah.” The man caught himself. “Not that I mean to insist he did anything about that.”

Hadn’t done anything about that? Oh, please, Wei Wuxian and Wen Ning had done enough night hunting in the region for an entire sect! In fact, Wei Wuxian had been called arrogant because he was out night hunting, presumably to start his own sect. Utterly ridiculous, he’d simply taken care of the danger and taken advantage of enemies to test Wen Ning’s strength.

“Since when have the fierce corpses been attacking people?” Lan Qiren continued the questioning. Even if everything about this trip and Wei Wuxian’s general everything went against Lan Qiren’s sense of moral correctness, the man was a cultivator, preaching righteousness.

His righteousness might just be hypocrisy more often than not, but Lan Qiren did care about the people they were meant to protect. More than once, a comment or two had danced at the tip of Wei Wuxian’s tongue after witnessing the work Lan Qiren did to support Lan Xichen, how he conducted his classroom, or spoke of being supportive as the greatest virtue, but then so seldom seemed to practice it if he simply disliked a person.

Maybe he would’ve hated Wei Wuxian less if his mother had still been alive to attract his anger and Wei Wuxian had been allowed to be more than her legacy.

“About a month,” the cultivator said. “According to the locals, it started suddenly. Despite all that happened, Yiling is still a fairly poor city and rarely catches the attention of the bigger sects since all attempts at summoning  Wei Wuxian failed.”

“All?” Wei Wuxian blinked, surprised. It should’ve occurred to him that the sects would try to summon his spirit, but he hadn’t heard of it at all.

“Laoshi, remind me again when those attempts were?” Wei Wuxian asked with a concerned expression, letting none of that inner glee shine through. Had Lan Qiren been forced to sit through people attempting to talk to his most annoying student? Oh, he must have hated that.

“Shortly after his death, each year. This is the first year we stopped it as the attempts seemed futile and Wei Wuxian truly gone.”

Lan Qiren appeared to finally have grown a distaste for all the bitter vegetables they served at the Cloud Recesses; his face was so sour! Under any other circumstances, Wei Wuxian would’ve thrown back his head to laugh.

“Ah, that is right. Thank you for informing us, stranger. We will inform the Chief Cultivator after traveling to Yiling to verify the situation for ourselves.”

The cultivator frowned, suddenly suspicious. “Do you not trust my word?” he challenged.

Wei Wuxian shook his head, smiling. “No, but the Lan sect is quite famous for its musical cultivation. Perhaps we can ease the situation for the locals before heading to Lanling. It’ll aid them quicker.”

Satisfied with that explanation, his pride not attacked, the rogue cultivator bid them goodbye.

“I think,” Wei Wuxian said after finishing this fourth bowl of spicy chicken, “we should finish this conversation away from prying eyes.”

After paying for their meal, they headed upstairs. Unwilling to let him out of his eyes, Lan Qiren hadn’t allowed Wei Wuxian to room alone, instead booking a room meant for a wealthy person and a servant. To the inn manager, Lan Qiren had implied that he was worried about leaving his niece-in-law on her own, unprotected, which the host had apparently bought, despite the sword Wei Wuxian was so clearly holding. Utter bullshit, being underestimated like that.

As soon as the door was closed behind them, Wei Wuxian sat on the bed in the main suit. If Lan Qiren wanted this room, he could also have the servant’s bed. Wei Wuxian was not his niece-in-law and owed him no respect, though he supposed offering it up for Lan Qiren’s old and brittle bones would be funny enough.

“Doubting my decision to head to Yiling first again, old man?” Wei Wuxian asked smugly.

“Merely wondering if that isn’t too much of a coincidence.”

Lan Qiren didn’t even have to say it – the implication was clear.

“I didn’t do anything,” Wei Wuxian said. “How was I supposed to when I was busy doing the research you ought to and teaching disciples that also should’ve been under someone else’s care.”

“Yes,” Lan Qiren said curtly. “Let’s talk about those disciples. You must think yourself very clever for infiltrating my sect so.”

“Infiltrating?” Wei Wuxian echoed. “You were the one who got us into this situation in the first place by keeping secrets from your nephews. I am not to blame.”

“No, just too quick in disregarding any blame that might fall onto you.”

Wei Wuxian mock-bowed, not even attempting to hide his scornful expression. “This lowly cultivator apologizes for playing the role he was cast in and telling children when they forgot a brushstroke in their otherwise perfect essays or have a basic cultivation question. I will not involve myself again and tell those who wonder that the esteemed Lan-xiansheng has forbidden the dreaded Yiling Patriarch from corrupting innocent little Lan disciples.”

At first, Wei Wuxian thought that perhaps he had crossed the line, but fuck it, Lan Qiren deserved it. Wei Wuxian hadn’t asked to be summoned back by Wang Chunhua! He had been fine being dead instead of some nebulous quest to figure out what had driven Lan-er-furen to sacrifice herself.

Besides, Lan Qiren could’ve come up with some other excuse, faked Wei Wuxian growing sick again, could’ve mixed poison into any of his meals! Instead, he’d silently stewed in his anger, all while Wei Wuxian breathed fresh air again and grew used to having at least one person he thought lost at his side again. Was it so bad that he’d wanted to indulge a-Yuan? Pick up the writing lessons they’d started in graveyard ash and could now conduct in a clean and light classroom, dressed like a young master and not one of many beggar children no one would miss?

If Lan Qiren had truly feared Wei Wuxian’s influence so much, he should’ve just gotten rid of him at the first opportunity and been done with it.

“Besides, it’s not as if you didn’t have anyone report on you on my doings,” Wei Wuxian snapped. “I didn’t tell children anything even you would disapprove of, so how about we spare ourselves the discussion?”

It wasn’t so much a peace offering as that Wei Wuxian didn’t want to engage in the conversation anymore. When he was younger and had fought with Jiang Cheng, there were some fights where it was simply easier to ignore the hurt of the days, the damage done, and move on.

Maybe, just for tonight, he and Lan Qiren could move on.

“This discussion isn’t finished,” Lan Qiren decided. “But as we are not in the Cloud Recesses, we can return to it later.”

Wei Wuxian stared at him, trying to figure out if Lan Qiren was playing a trick on him. Lan Qiren really was expecting Wei Wuxian to return to the Cloud Recesses with him after this. It was Wei Wuxian’s goal as well, especially if he couldn’t lift his own curse, but he hadn’t exactly expected the same of Lan Qiren.

Nine months wasn’t particularly long to figure out such a complicated ritual, even for a genius like Wei Wuxian. If he was bound to fail, he at least wanted to spend as much time as possible at a-Yuan’s side and if he succeeded, well…

Where else would he go? Perhaps he ought to offer his head to little Jin Ling? Despite bitter vegetables and spending most of his first weeks locked up in his house, Wei Wuxian enjoyed being alive again. Running away was bound to get him killed sooner or later and he couldn’t do that to a-Yuan. Even if he’d hate him after all he was told about the Yiling Patriarch, he owed it to Wen Qing’s last relative to keep himself available.

“Fine,” Wei Wuxian said. “But you agree now that we must head to Yiling first?”

Exhausted, Lan Qiren inclined his head. “Yes, especially if corpses are disturbing local farmers. Is there anything you left at the Burial Mounds that might trigger such a reaction?”

Wei Wuxian shook his head. “No, the corpses weren’t ever supposed to leave the Burial Mounds. Their natural instinct keeps them from doing so, but I reinforced that further. Outside of the Burial Mounds, it would’ve taken me considerably more strength to recall them and the last thing I needed was expanding my control even more.”

Wei Wuxian paused. He hardly recalled the siege on the Burial Mounds, as it was another memory best left forgotten, but even then, he was sure that his corpses hadn’t actually left the Burial Mounds. How could they, they were too busy turning on him.

“Did anything like that happen after the siege?” he forced himself to ask.

Lan Qiren shook his head. “No.”

“Then I guess we’ll have to see who disturbed their rest.”

Chapter Text

They left the inn early in the morning, even by Lan Qiren’s standards, but if there was trouble in Yiling, they couldn’t afford to waste any time and risk the situation growing out of control. A warm breakfast and a poorly brewed cup of tea aided a little in wiping the sleep from Lan Qiren’s mind. The night had been exceptionally restless, even though his bed hadn’t been entirely uncomfortable. He’d followed through on his usual morning routine, rousing Wei Wuxian after being dressed and prepared.

Lan Qiren considered it a small blessing that Wei Wuxian was all tangled up in his blanket as he’d had no issue sleeping in his inner robes. Lan Qiren would’ve called the clothes Wang Chunhua’s, but he knew they’d only come into Wei Wuxian’s possession recently.

Wei Wuxian woke gracelessly, and if Lan Qiren claimed to have slept less than usual, the dark rings beneath Wei Wuxian’s eyes spoke of even less rest, not even the breakfast managed to bring him to any matter of coherence. Thankfully, by midday, taking their first break of the day, Wei Wuxian’s face cleared up and he no longer resembled a hungover guest disciple. His cheer returned in mindless rambles, most directed toward his mare, showering the horse with compliments. He claimed it made her work harder, but Lan Qiren thought it was only supposed to distract Wei Wuxian from their destination.

Lan Qiren wished he could lie away his own exhaustion as casually as Wei Wuxian disregarded everything he didn’t want to confront. On some days, it was as if Lan Qiren had been exhausted since their library burned, on others like this shadow only started haunting him after he had his nephew whipped for betraying his sect in Wei Wuxian’s name.

Lan Wangji had never lost a word about how he’d managed to drag Wei Wuxian out of the Nightless City, out of Qishan, all the way to the Yiling region, but perhaps that had never been of any significance. Lan Qiren remembered how he’d spent those days, frantically searching for his nephew, dreaming of Lan Xichen imprisoned by the Wen, Lan Wangji dragging himself back to the Cloud Recesses on a leg that was another week away from turning into an injury his golden core couldn’t overcome.

They’d traveled to Yiling in groups, and Lan Qiren recalled the air changing the closer they got to Yiling, wondering why anyone would choose to settle near the Burial Mounds.

Among all sects, the land surrounding the Cloud Recesses had been the purest for the longest time, the constant echo of their songs sinking into the soil. The Waterborne Abyss Qishan Wen had chased into Caiyi had changed that, but even the presence of such a monster didn’t compare to the utter dread and heaviness of the air surrounding Yiling. For a Lan, the dead were never silent, and Lan Qiren suspected that outside of his sect, unfortunately, only Wei Wuxian had a similar, if not superior skill in listening to spirits.

The woods surrounding Yiling were loud, some spirits whispering incoherently while others screamed for attention. Wei Wuxian wandered through it without making a show out of listening to them, but it was difficult to mistake his eyes staring straight ahead as anything but razor-sharp focus.

“Did the rituals to summon me manage to raise more spirits?” Wei Wuxian suddenly asked.

“No,” Lan Qiren replied. “Nothing at all ever happened.”

He’d theorized that as torn apart as Wei Wuxian’s body had been, his soul had mirrored it by scattering into a thousand parts, never to repair and reincarnate, nothing to call upon.

He knew Lan Wangji had tried to speak to Wei Wuxian with inquiry, but his attempts had borne no fruit.

“Then somebody else has been doing it,” Wei Wuxian concluded. “There can be no other reason for so many recent restless spirits otherwise.”

They walked deeper into the forest, toward the Burial Mounds, and slowly but steadily, the signs of corpse presence grew as the signs of life diminished. Though it had been long enough for the undergrowth to start recovering from the siege, it looked as though the siege had only been some weeks ago, the forest damaged by swords and fire.

Wei Wuxian led them further until the path became uncomfortably familiar. Less than five years ago, Lan Qiren had walked on this path to support the Jin and Jiang in their siege. Due to their musical cultivation skills, the Lan had been asked to offer support and keep the corpses at bay. Their own had been hurt by Wei Wuxian, but this siege was to right the damages done to Jin and Jiang. Gusu Lan did not insist upon revenge, merely correction, restoring balance.

“Did you destroy this ward during the siege?” Wei Wuxian asked, pointing at a stone with damaged writing.

Though difficult to decipher, it seemed like the stone was meant to lessen resentful energy in the area, a bastardized purification charm.

“No,” Lan Qiren replied. Only true masters of the craft were allowed to break Wei Wuxian’s wards on that day. They’d have recognized that destroying this talisman would only do more damage.

Wei Wuxian huffed and rolled his eyes. “You remember what every single disciple did that day?”

“Don’t you?” Lan Qiren shot back before he could think better of it.

Wei Wuxian’s eyes narrowed before he wiped imaginary dust off his light blue robes and turned away from Lan Qiren to walk up the path. “I recall very little of the months before my death, old man Lan,” Wei Wuxian replied after another moment of ghost-filled silence passed. “I hardly remember how I got back to Yiling, if you care to know. If I did, we wouldn’t have to come here.”

He what!?

Wei Wuxian didn’t seem to notice, but Lan Qiren stood frozen to the spot as if the roots of the trees curled like snakes around his ankles, reluctant to let his death pass them by.

How could Wei Wuxian not recall the very act that had nearly seen Lan Wangji executed?

“Besides, I know you’re speaking the truth,” Wei Wuxian continued without a care, his back still turned to Lan Qiren, but one hand raised in a careless wave. “Look at the stone, there should be at least a layer of filth over this broken ward, but there’s recent damage here as well. The Burial Mounds are reluctant to change but are not immune to foreign influences. It looks like someone is trying to release the Burial Mounds onto us. We better keep an eye out.”

They walked further up the path until they came upon the clearing, Lan Qiren reeling from Wei Wuxian’s casual confession and Wei Wuxian remaining quiet. Had Wei Wuxian asking after Lan Wangji’s punishment been ignorance instead of mockery? It was unthinkable, everything in Lan Qiren fought to pursue that thought, so he forced himself to consider his surroundings again instead.

The clearing looked nearly identical to the first time Lan Qiren had seen it. It was missing the remaining corpses, but there were the same broken structures.

“Do you know where Lan Zhan found a-Yuan? We must have told him to hide, but I don’t know where…” Wei Wuxian trailed off. “I suppose it doesn’t matter anymore when he has a good bed to sleep in now.”

Wei Wuxian kept walking across the clearing, only hesitantly touching broken structures, unearthing farming utensils and broken bottles. “One of the Wen uncles used to make his fruit wine in these. It tasted truly awful, but we didn’t tell him that.”

Wei Wuxian kept talking, though it seemed none of the conversation was aimed at Lan Qiren, more at himself, trying to recollect the months Wei Wuxian claimed not to recall. Given the manner of his death and resurrection, memory loss wasn’t entirely impossible, no matter how unwilling Lan Qiren was to acknowledge it. Lan Qiren could do little but pay attention to Wei Wuxian’s remembrance, and as any information gained here might be relevant for their case or the future, Lan Qiren listened as Wei Wuxian told him of writing lessons, sewing clothes by the fire and marching past a cliff to get fresh water. His stories matched the signs of civilization Lan Qiren saw here, not necessarily the stories of the Yiling Patriarch and all his crimes.

A price had to be paid for Jin Zixuan’s death, for the cultivators lost after Wen Ning’s rampage, and Wei Wuxian had to be contained, but perhaps, Lan Qiren allowed himself to admit, they could’ve done it by other means. If all of Wei Wuxian was rotten, his every action wrong, then Lan Yuan shouldn’t have been allowed to keep breathing either – and that was an acknowledgment Lan Qiren couldn’t make.

“I can’t imagine Granny hiding a-Yuan in the cave. It would’ve been the first place they searched,” Wei Wuxian muttered as they entered what used to be his lair. As far as Lan Qiren understood from Wei Wuxian’s rambles, the woman Wei Wuxian only called Granny must have been Lan Yuan’s grandmother, or perhaps just their elder, an old healer with little life left in her anymore.

Lan Qiren believed in justified punishment, that it had to be appropriate. A traitor to the sect couldn’t be treated like an unruly child. And if that was the case, then certainly an old woman shouldn’t have suffered the fate of a bloodthirsty soldier in Wen Ruohan’s army.

He hadn’t considered any of this when the Jin and Jiang had called for war, and they were honor-bound to support them. Instead, Lan Qiren only scrutinized the situation more closely now, in the presence of Wei Wuxian. Hadn’t Jin Zixun admitted that he was in the wrong when he took Wen Qionglin? Hadn’t Wei Wuxian’s death proved that he hadn’t been the one to curse Jin Zixun, causing the beginning of his own downfall?

The more Lan Qiren examined the situation, the more of a headache it caused.

The atmosphere of the cave wasn’t helping either. The entrance was narrow enough to think it a prison, but soon became wider. The walls had characters scratched into them, some smeared with blood. The deeper they walked, the more Lan Qiren recognized that this used to be a space that was lived in. It was by no means a glorious palace, or even a simple house, anything that might attract hopeful disciples. Lan Qiren had no pity to offer Wei Wuxian, but he admitted that living here must have been pitiful for a once well-praised disciple of a great sect.

And then, at the end of the cave, sat a pool in deep red, recognizable even in the dark. Lan Qiren knew that this was where they’d thrown the bodies of the Wen. Cultivators all learned how to conduct proper burials. Mismanaged burials were one of the most frequent reasons for unrest, so every cultivator needed to know how to properly care for a body.

Or how to subdue it if the dead were deemed undeserving of a proper funeral.

Lan Qiren sighed. He hadn’t approved of it then, still disapproved of it. It was one thing to defeat one’s enemies, and another to step as low as them. He’d criticized the same of Wei Wuxian during the war, but this siege had not been a matter of the Lan.

“The sects truly didn’t leave anything of any worth here, did they?” Wei Wuxian sighed. “I used to have a crate of toys for a-Yuan there, even those are gone. Did Jin Guangshan think the Yiling Patriarch conducted his business with grass butterflies?”

“The artifacts had to be confiscated,” Lan Qiren said.

“Artifacts,” Wei Wuxian echoed. “Those ramblings? They should have burned.”

Horrifyingly, Lan Qiren agreed with Wei Wuxian. Still, looking around the cave, it didn’t seem like they’d find anything of relevance here. They should’ve gone to the farmers directly instead of wasting their time here.

“I—” Lan Qiren cut himself off as he heard steps approaching. He turned to Wei Wuxian, an accusation on his tongue, but froze when Wei Wuxian pulled a talisman from his sleeve, as agitated as Lan Qiren.

Lan Qiren made out two distinct types of steps, one much heavier and dragging than the other.

The cave still didn’t allow for much light, but soon two silhouettes approached. One face was blank, and ashen gray, the other twisted in mockery. “Well, well, well, what do we have here? Two lost little Lan?”

Chapter Text

Lan Qiren should’ve known that nothing good would come from marching into the Burial Mounds. The place had been untouched and contained until Wei Wuxian broke into ancient wards to summon the dead for his Wen. The protections the sects had put into place after were laughable, focused more on ensuring Wei Wuxian’s spirit would not return to bring desolation upon them. The knowledge of how to repair what had been burned was destroyed during the war, the old Wen archives torn apart.

No righteous man walked into the Burial Mounds, the land of the dead, or out of them, returning to the living without being some changed creature.

Lan Qiren had never met the man approaching them, but he recognized him anyway as it was his atrocities that Nie Mingjue lost so many peaceful nights over, and thus, in his worry, Lan Xichen too.

Wei Wuxian’s legacy was not just the child Lan Wangji had brought to the Cloud Recesses, it were the monsters too.

“Xue Yang!”

Xue Yang grinned and bowed in mockery, the corpse at his side not moving an inch. Lan Qiren recognized the clothes it wore as that of a sect, but he couldn’t place them. Countless new ones had sprung up and disbanded again since the end of the Sunshot Campaign.

“I am honored, old man! You must be that praised Lan Grandmaster all those cultivators try to impress, yet you recognize me.”

Xue Yang spoke with an undercurrent of laughter, refusing to acknowledge the severity of a situation, as if everyone here only served to entertain him. His gaze drifted from Lan Qiren to Wei Wuxian and his eyes lit up. Xue Yang cocked his head and, horribly enough, started addressing Wei Wuxian. The two of them together—no, Lan Qiren didn’t want to imagine what monstrosities they could create together.

“Are you not going to talk to me, shimei?” Xue Yang asked, pitching his voice to faked pitifulness.

Wei Wuxian froze, then relaxed his expression and returned Xue Yang’s half-smile. “I don’t think it would be appropriate to greet you here, shixiong.”

“Shixiong!” Xue Yang repeated and laughed. “I see, living with the Lan must have ruined your poor manners, Chunhua. You used to be much more fun.”

Wei Wuxian shrugged and continued more confidently, “What can I say? I have to be a good role model for my son.”

Xue Yang’s eyes widened further, then he snorted and leaned on his corpse for support. “You’ve got a son now? Oh, and here I thought I was off bad, but worse was done to you. The Lan, honestly…”

Xue Yang trailed off before tilting his head, studying them as though their appearance alone could reveal some secret to him. “The Lan indeed, what are you going here with their oh, so great Grandmaster? Are you going to toss Lan Qiren in with those Wen and see what it does to the blood pool? I remember how much you wanted to study this place.”

“Toss him in with the Wen?” Wei Wuxian muttered before glancing at the pond’s surface, considering.

Lan Qiren’s hand was still on his sword hilt, but he was no longer sure who he’d need to parry – Xue Yang and the corpse he kept on a leash, or Wei Wuxian once he learned what the Jin did to the Wen he’d sought to protect.

“Maybe he needs to die first,” Xue Yang mused. “Much easier than holding him down until he drowns too. I can kill him for you, shimei. We can test your theory and then we can test mine. I am lucky to have found you here so unexpectedly! I thought I’d have to break into Lotus Pier to find someone with the needed skillset. My hands aren’t as delicate as yours, placing needles into this one—“ Xue Yang cocked his head at the corpse, “—wasn’t easy. You were much better at that, even if you didn’t care for it.”

Lan Qiren’s thoughts raced at all that Xue Yang revealed. He hadn’t necessarily doubted Wei Wuxian’s assessment of Wang Chunhua being a demonic cultivator, but he’d hoped to be proved wrong, that it was something done to her and not something she chose out of misguided arrogance.

Something that would excuse Lan Qiren from failing to notice it at all.

“Yes,” Wei Wuxian agreed slowly. “Let’s put your theory to the test, shixiong.”

And then Wei Wuxian simply stepped aside.

“You—”

Had Wei Wuxian known? No, he’d seemed as surprised as Lan Qiren at all that took place around Yiling. He couldn’t have acted confused about the Burial Mounds and Xue Yang – Xue Yang hadn’t even been a known name when Wei Wuxian died. As removed from the jianghu as he had been since his return, there was no way he’d caught wind of the boy either.

Still, Lan Qiren wasn’t given the chance to reflect further as Xue Yang lazily pointed at him and said, “Go.”

His fierce corpse followed his order without hesitation and came at Lan Qiren at an inhuman speed. Early during the war, he’d been injured enough to be incapable of returning to the front lines, so Lan Qiren had shuffled into a predominantly administrative position, one he had kept up during their rebuilding efforts. He’d left the matter of nighthunts to other sect disciples, picking up more regular sword training only now that Lan Yuan was approaching an age where he’d have to be observed more closely.

The movements of the corpse in front of him were as inhuman as its existence, arms overreaching or turning when it would break the bones of any living fighter. Even in his prime, Lan Qiren wouldn’t have been able to withstand such an assault for long. He couldn’t imagine taking down this beast in a straightforward battle. At best, he could prevent himself from being outright slaughtered.

“As much as it pains me to admit, Song Lan is quite the fighter,” Xue Yang told Wei Wuxian as though Lan Qiren’s battle were a mere practice match between disciples to study. “Don’t think he can quite measure up to Wen Ning, but it’s close enough.”

“What makes you say that?” Wei Wuxian asked, one hand lazily holding onto Wang Chunhua’s sword while the other was stuck in his sleeve. Was he rummaging in it for something?

Lan Qiren was immediately punished for the moment of inattention by the corpse of Song Lan striking him. Song Lan, he knew this man’s name. He and Xiao Xingchen, that disciple of Baoshan Sanren, had brought Xue Yang to the Jin to pay for his crimes. Xue Yang had sworn vengeance upon them – was this his retribution? Making the man’s corpse fight according to Xue Yang’s orders?

“He keeps fighting me,” Xue Yang complained, the perfect picture of a petulant child. “I can only imagine what it must have been like for the Yiling Patriarch to fight with the Ghost General as his weapon, a corpse that strong and unwilling to disobey. The needles only get me so far, and the arrays on them are not all that useful as far as complex commands go. It’s all about the flavor.”

Lan Qiren didn’t have to see Xue Yang to hear the leer, speaking of controlling corpses as though he were speaking of another depraved passion. At least Wei Wuxian had never acted this deprived about his unrighteous cultivation!

“Flavor,” Wei Wuxian repeated. “You mean like this?”

And then, just when Song Lan was about to strike, Wei Wuxian snapped his fingers and the corpse froze right above Lan Qiren, allowing him to look at the demonic cultivators in front of him again.

“Oh?” Xue Yang grinned from ear to ear. “Shimei, you didn’t become an obedient little Lan after all. How’d you do that?”

“Same as you,” Wei Wuxian replied. “I used an array.”

Wei Wuxian pulled his hand from his sleeve, revealing a talisman and blood-stained fingers. Had he just drawn the talisman? Then, in one swift move, Wei Wuxian slammed it onto the ground, lighting the whole cave up, before rushing at Xue Yang, Wang Chunhua’s sword pulled from his sheath.

Xue Yang didn’t bother hiding his surprise, only raised his own blade in parry. “Shimei, what are you doing?”

“Shimei, shimei, don’t you know I’m older than you?” Wei Wuxian sighed. “What you did to Song Lan is very clever and very cruel; who taught you?”

Xue Yang fought like a wild thing, not like a trained cultivator. He was deadly all the same and Wei Wuxian, who, despite all that, should’ve been better than him, was lacking.

“I should ask the same,” Xue Yang returned. “What was that just now?”

“Protections, I’m surprised they weren’t destroyed with everything else,” Wei Wuxian kept answering the demonic cultivator for some reason Lan Qiren honestly couldn’t parse. “Old man Lan, I’m not sure how stable they’re anymore, so don’t relax too much!”

As if Lan Qiren would relax when faced with a fierce corpse, even an inactive one!

“And how do you know what protections the Yiling Patriarch…” Xue Yang stopped himself from speaking and jumped back from the battle, holding his sword as one would a common farming tool.

Then, slowly, Xue Yang’s expression grew curious, almost thoughtful, as though he pondered some great mystery.

“Say, shimei, you’re not Wang Chunhua at all, are you? Did the crazy bitch finally go anywhere with her summoning array?” Xue Yang laughed, high-pitched and cruel.

Wei Wuxian stood straight, his sword still raised, and challenged, “And who do you think I am?”

“Easy,” Xue Yang replied. “In that body, and with all Wang Chunhua wanted – I’m honored to stand in front of the doctor of the damned, Wen-daifu herself.”

Xue Yang didn’t bow but inclined his head in the closest showing of genuine respect he’d displayed all day. Wei Wuxian paused, his head most likely rattling with the same question haunting Lan Qiren – did Xue Yang think Wang Chunhua had resurrected Wen Qing of all people?

“How long can you stay in her body before she takes it back?” Xue Yang asked. “I have many questions. Wei Wuxian wrote about you and your skill frequently. Surely you can do me the favor and speak of his. This disciple would be honored to follow his master’s footsteps.”

Wei Wuxian didn’t react at all to Xue Yang’s proclamations, only raised his arm and looked at where Lan Qiren knew his curse mark to be hidden.

“Ah,” Wei Wuxian muttered. “So that was the goal of the summoning, a timed possession. How very clever.”

“You didn’t know?” Xue Yang seemed surprised at that.

“No,” Wei Wuxian admitted easily. The way he went about revealing his knowledge to an enemy would never fail to annoy Lan Qiren. “And Wang Chunhua was indeed clever, but she was sloppy too. Her array was rather focused on results, less on security measures. I’m afraid that once my time is up, she won’t return to this body, but that’s what you get for ignoring the basics.”

Wei Wuxian swung his sword several times, adjusting his hold on it. “I was a little too eager there. Wang Chunhua’s balance is all off.”

He shifted his stance, letting it fall from something less Jiang into a form Lan Qiren recognized of his students. He gave his sword another swing before nodding to himself.

“And I’m not Wen Qing.”

And then the Yiling Patriarch, in the midst of his lair, stormed forward with a borrowed sword, in a body he’d never used to fight.

Chapter Text

So, on a scale of one to ten, Wei Wuxian would rate this visit to the Burial Mounds as a solid seven. One point deduction each for Lan Qiren, Wang Chunhua’s shixiong – Xue Yang, was it? – and the general unpleasantness of the Burial Mounds and all the ghosts digging their bloody nails deep into Wei Wuxian’s nightmares. It was not as terrible as it could’ve been considering all of Wei Wuxian’s other experiences in the Burial Mounds, but it was still a far cry from the brighter moments, baking mud cakes with a-Yuan and playing drinking songs on Chenqing.

Wei Wuxian adjusted his grip on Wang Chunhua’s sword. Yikou she’d named it, one bite.

It was an ambitious name for someone who’d discarded their sword quickly. He’d appreciated the ease with which he could wield Yikou, it hadn’t fought him once, even though he was not Wang Chunhua, but if she’d trained a little more with it, perhaps Wei Wuxian would not struggle so much to hold his own against Xue Yang.

Once, even after losing his core, Xue Yang wouldn’t have been a challenge for him, but even after months of living as Wang Chunhua, Wei Wuxian had forgotten to practice fighting in her body. The meditation exercises helped him settle, but they alone hadn’t made up for missed sparring.

His balance was off, and his reach never as wide as he expected. The Jiang forms Wei Wuxian had relied on all his life expected a fluidity Wei Wuxian simply couldn’t provide right now. Blocking Xue Yang wasn’t instinct as it should be, but took conscious effort. In all honesty, Lan Qiren probably would have an easier time against Xue Yang than Wei Wuxian, given that the Lan were all about efficiency. Peace-seeking monks they might be, but never let it be said that the Lan didn’t abandon all flourish to go for the throat.

Wei Wuxian had fought with Lan Zhan by his side often enough to borrow the steadiness of their attacks, the precision when he couldn’t afford to waste anything. The grace of their sword forms originated in intention, stunning even when wielded by someone less competent.

Xue Yang’s form, on the other hand, was one part Jin, one part distinctively street brawler, and half malice, and he kept up with Wei Wuxian just fine. And while Xue Yang was free to attack as he wanted, Wei Wuxian had to keep half a mind on Xue Yang’s fierce corpse before it decided to make mincemeat out of Lan Qiren.

“Old Man Lan, a little help here?” Wei Wuxian called as he fell back.

It was apparently enough to snap Lan Qiren out of his stupor – or had he been waiting for Wei Wuxian and Xue Yang to kill each other? – and join the fight. Wei Wuxian couldn’t recall ever seeing Lan Qiren fight, but the man certainly had kept up well enough with his practice. He wasn’t as brutal as Lan Zhan, but it was clear to see who had taught the Twin Jades of Lan their sword forms. Adjusting to Lan Qiren fighting at his side was surprisingly easy and soon they’d fallen into a rhythm that finally pushed Xue Yang further and further into a corner.

Xue Yang realized it, too, as he jumped several meters back, out of their reach.

“You really aren’t Wen Qing, are you? Could it be that I should’ve called you Qianbei instead of Shimei?” Xue Yang asked, his face splitting into a grin. “How is it that the Yiling Patriarch is fighting with a sword instead of his flute? And at the side of a Lan too.”

Another one of his oversights – Wei Wuxian should’ve grabbed a fucking flute before going on this trip. It wouldn’t even have been difficult. He’d been considering it before he met a-Yuan even!

It would’ve made channeling resentment less risky too. He’d worked his ass off to fix what Wang Chunhua had allowed to fall to ruin and unfortunately, Wei Wuxian had little frame of reference on how resentment intermingled with spiritual energy. A little was just fine as long as he kept an eye on it, but if he tried the previous antics he’d gotten up to in a body held upright only by the resentment in his bones, he’d merrily lead himself into qi deviation, if not something worse.

“How is it that a little wannabe like you is messing with my old wards?” Wei Wuxian asked instead of answering Xue Yang’s question.

“Wannabe?” Xue Yang echoed, his voice taking on a sharper edge. When he’d been amused by their antics before, it seemed that now Wei Wuxian had genuinely insulted him. “I am many things, qianbei, but a pretender I am not. Let me show you just what I can do.”

Wei Wuxian braced himself for another attack, but instead of Xue Yang attempting to slash at them with his sword again, he reached within his robes, pulling from them an ugly chunk of metal radiating resentment.

“It took me many tries to find and reform the right metal, so it has the correct shape.”

Even from a distance, Wei Wuxian could hear the screams of the dead, the begging and teasing, all culminating in the screeching of the weapon Wei Wuxian had meant to destroy with his death.

Xue Yang grinned, mad and bloodthirsty, and raised his fist above his head as resentment exploded around them, turning shadows longer, darkness deeper. It didn’t force Wei Wuxian to his knees, but Lan Qiren stumbled. Such malicious energy – it could only be one object creating it.

“How do you like my reforged tally?”

Xue Yang laughed and Wei Wuxian felt his control over the fierce corpse ripped away within a single breath. Song Lan needed even less to resume his attack, slamming himself into Lan Qiren at full force.

“Lan Qiren!”

“Deal with Xue Yang!” Lan Qiren only shouted at him before raising his sword to fight against Song Lan again. Lan Qiren knew as well as Wei Wuxian that it wasn’t a battle he’d win. Lan Qiren was by no means a weak cultivator, but even Lan Zhan had struggled to subdue Wen Ning, and Wen Ning hadn’t drawn from the rage of a thousand souls surrounding him, only his own. Wei Wuxian didn’t know enough of Song Lan to determine how strong the corpse was, if his death had filled him with more anger than Wen Ning’s, if his rebirth was entirely out of his own brutality, or aided by Xue Yang.

A sword sailed past Wei Wuxian, very nearly nicking his cheek.

“Qianbei,” Xue Yang whined. “You can’t just ignore me now.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Wei Wuxian replied, eyeing Xue Yang’s tally again.

It didn’t look as neat as Wei Wuxian’s had. If asked, Wei Wuxian wouldn’t be able to say how many days it had taken him to forge it, only that the floor had been red by the end of it, his boots squelching with every step he took out of his damned forge. The tally had been both his greatest creation and his worst. A weapon that wanted to be used, a weapon that didn’t care who did so and for what purpose. He hadn’t expected it to become as strong as it ended up, the maliciousness streamlined by a singular purpose.

The same could not be said for Xue Yang’s tally. Its strength was nothing to scoff at, but it didn’t entirely live up to Wei Wuxian’s original. Even more, the slight disruptions in the energy flow spoke of warring consciousness. The reforged yin tiger tally most likely struggled with its weaker half’s properties.

Still, Xue Yang wielded it confidently.

“How often have you tested it before?” Wei Wuxian asked.

Xue Yang grinned. “A couple times! It is quite effective, though I suppose it could use your talented touch.”

Wei Wuxian suppressed a shudder. He got the sense that Xue Yang’s behavior was much closer to how people assumed the Yiling Patriarch acted than Wei Wuxian’s actual behavior.

Still, it gave him pause.

He’d never used the tally in the Burial Mounds. Commanding the dead here took an effort it didn’t outside of the wards. All those restless spirits here blurred into each other, smeared paint on old canvas; you couldn’t separate them properly. Commanding one of them meant commanding all of them.

Only an immortal with a weapon they were perfectly attuned to would be able to control the entirety of the Burial Mounds.

Xue Yang, by comparison, was little more than a macabre monster.

All Wei Wuxian only needed to grab Lan Qiren and hightail out of here before Xue Yang’s corpses could reach them and devour them all.

“Show me,” Wei Wuxian challenged him.

Xue Yang’s eyes lit up like a kid with candy.

Power surged and the whispers Wei Wuxian had learned to tune out pressed against his consciousness, drowning him. Still, he stood his ground and Xue Yang’s grin faded as his hand shook.

Then, just behind him, Wei Wuxian heard the first heavy groan of the undead.

He thought it was Song Lan at first, but the fierce corpse was still engaged in combat with Lan Qiren.

Instead, Wei Wuxian turned around to see the first corpse walk out of the blood pool. Drenched farmer’s garb clung to the first body, its head barely holding on from the slashed throat. Another corpse followed, that of a younger woman with sunken cheeks missing an arm, another body with its guts falling out, all of them dressed poorly, all of them painfully familiar.

Xue Yang laughed in delight. “Right, right! They tossed your Wen into the blood pool, didn’t they? Wei Wuxian, won’t you look at what the Lan you’re protecting did to your last charges?”

One by one, the corpses of the Wen remnants climbed out of the water, out of the grave they’d been banished to, never to reincarnate.

If Wei Wuxian were to die at their hand, maybe it would just be righting what should’ve happened, but never would he allow them to remain as Xue Yang’s weapons.

Sweat covered Xue Yang’s brow, yet the Wen remnants didn’t move.

It took too much energy to control them, especially if they didn’t want to fight. They could’ve run away from the Burial Mounds when the sects readied their attack, pretended to be beggars or tried anything at all but wait for gruesome death at the hands of the sects.

Instead, they’d stayed with Wei Wuxian.

He recalled next to nothing of that time, but he knew he couldn’t have been easy to be around, maybe more in need of care than even them.

“That is not for you to judge, Xue Yang,” Wei Wuxian told him, rising to his full height. “Besides, we owe the Lan just as much.”

Wei Wuxian had made an enemy of the jianghu – and he had been treated as such. There was no reason to expect mercy, not even for a single life.

The dead in the Burial Mounds never decayed as quickly as they should, if they fell apart at all. These people he’d spent more than a year with, they looked only moments away from death, as if time had reversed itself on Wei Wuxian, giving him an unwilling glimpse into the hour of his death.

“Granny Wen, Uncle Four, everyone,” Wei Wuxian addressed the still corpses of the Wen. “A-Yuan has grown up well. He’s one of the strongest disciples of his age group, very kind and polite too. He still loves digging in the dirt, though it’s for carrots to feed to rabbits.”

Regardless of what Wei Wuxian had done, of what he was going to do, a-Yuan had been happy those years, hadn’t he? And Lan Qiren had said that his origin was no secret to him; it was a secret he’d continue to keep.

“He cares for everyone and smiles as happily as we’ve always wanted him to.” Wei Wuxian bowed deep to the Wen remnant. “You have done well, you can rest now.”

For a single breath, nothing changed, then the corpses ran forward, passing by Wei Wuxian to throw themselves at Xue Yang. Wei Wuxian didn’t look up, unwilling to remember the gruesomeness of this death. The sounds – Xue Yang’s screams, teeth ripping at flesh – were enough.

He only dared to move when a gentle hand placed itself on his shoulder, and Wei Wuxian turned to find Granny Wen.

“I didn’t lie,” he said. “I promise, a-Yuan is well—”

Granny Wen interrupted him by reaching for his hands, prying one open to place rough fabric in it. It was a misshapen doll, some animal Wei Wuxian had failed to recognize when a-Yuan had shown it to him for the first time. Despite all the blood and death, the doll was in impeccable condition, looking just like a-Yuan had dragged it to bed the night before.

Understanding, Wei Wuxian clutched the toy close. “I’ll give it to him,” he promised.

Granny Wen’s mouth twitched into what would’ve been a smile had her death not been so unpleasant. And then Wei Wuxian watched as her body disintegrated, her remaining anger calmed by the knowledge that a-Yuan was safe. He hoped her next life would be kind, that she’d get to see all her grandchildren grow up herself. When he turned into the direction of the other Wen, he only found the tattered robes of Xue Yang’s mangled body and the fake tally lying in the same blood that birthed it. They too must have passed on. Wei Wuxian would light incense for them once they were out of here.

Turning to Lan Qiren and Song Lan’s battle, Wei Wuxian found Song Lan on the ground, unmoving. Xue Yang’s relinquished control must have broken whatever spell was on him too.

“Are you alright?” Wei Wuxian asked Lan Qiren.

“Yes,” the man bit out. He took another steadying breath, and promptly dropped his sword and collapsed, blood seeping through his white robes.

“Fuck, shit,” Wei Wuxian hissed as he stored away a-Yuan’s toy in his bag. He wiped his sword on Song Lan’s robe before sheathing it. “I thought lying was forbidden, old man.”

Unfortunately, neither Lan Qiren nor Song Lan answered him.

Chapter Text

Lan Qiren had woken to music on countless days. When he was young, his mother raised him from sleep by humming songs known only by a single village near the coast. Once he started nighthunting, he woke to soothing melodies of rest and restoration, played by healers dedicated to noticing even the slightest change in your health.

Lan Qiren had fond memories of music; caring most, perhaps, about the sounds of guqin strings plucked by children attempting to recreate what they’d heard their uncle play. Not every member of his sect was particularly gifted in the art and had to make up some advantage by hours upon hours of practice.

Yet never, not once in his life, had he woken to such a mess of chords.

“Stop playing,” he bit out before he managed to crack open his eyes. Indeed, the playing stopped briefly before it picked up with renewed energy, prickly like a toddler woken too early from their afternoon nap and spiteful like a scorned bride.

When Lan Qiren’s vision cleared up, it was not to the healers of the Cloud Recesses, his bedroom, or, as memories of the Burial Mounds cascaded over him, in the graveyard of too many wretched souls. Instead, Lan Qiren opened his eyes to a simple wooden ceiling and Wei Wuxian sitting at his bedside, plucking at the strings of Lan Qiren’s instrument.

“What are you doing?” Lan Qiren hissed, reaching out blindly to snatch the instrument, though the distance was too great.

His throat was dry and when he tried to get up, his stomach stung.

“Careful, old man,” Wei Wuxian said as he took his hands from Lan Qiren’s instrument. How dare he touch it and worse, use it to play such discordant melodies!

Lan Qiren knew his limits very well and sat up anyway. He wanted to bat away Wei Wuxian’s hands, but unfortunately, even in a woman’s body, Wei Wuxian was stronger and Lan Qiren wasn’t quite capable of raising his hands for his protection.

Once sitting, he didn’t necessarily feel better, but he would not lie in bed while Wei Wuxian sat next to him watching.

“Why do you have my guqin?” Lan Qiren asked instead.

Wei Wuxian stared at him as if he had grown a second head. “I don’t have a flute? What else was I supposed to use?”

Anything but Lan Qiren’s instrument. It was bad enough that it had even allowed Wei Wuxian to play it instead of cutting off his fingers at the first touch. “Nothing!” Lan Qiren replied.

Wei Wuxian stared at him a moment longer before snorting. “Xue Yang might have thought I was Wen Qing, but I very much am not, old man. Yiling has a lot of things, but a capable doctor isn’t one of them. Leaving you with a wound like that after getting it in the Burial Mounds was no good. I figured one of your songs might help.”

“This was not a Lan song,” Lan Qiren immediately retorted. He knew it wasn’t – no Lan song would sound so terrible. Musical cultivation relied on harmony as much as it needed the strength of the player.

“Sure it was,” Wei Wuxian answered, then started playing on Lan Qiren’s guqin again as if he hadn’t just been told to cease. Didn’t this boy ever listen?

Wei Wuxian plucked a few chords and terribly enough, Lan Qiren recognized them, just less refined, clearly not the work of someone trained to use this instrument as a Lan healer would. There was a world of difference between a young master who’d learned to play the guqin as part of their general education, and a cultivator using it as a tool.

Wei Wuxian was obviously attempting to do the latter, but a guqin was not a dizi, yet Wei Wuxian played it as if he were transcribing dizi scores to it. And then, as if he’d been playing known harmonies only to insult him, Wei Wuxian started improvising. There was no real melody to it, just a continuous string of notes that, sure enough, were affecting Lan Qiren in some way. Not negatively, that much he could tell immediately, but he also wasn’t sure what they were doing to him.

“What are you adding that flourish for?” Lan Qiren asked. He couldn’t have Wei Wuxian doing new experimental cultivation techniques on him, even if those, paradoxically, didn’t run on resentment. Not all of Wei Wuxian’s inventions were malicious. Lan Qiren had spent many hours developing suitable replacements and improvements for the few Lan Wangji had introduced to the sect curriculum. He had yet to find a solution for any of them.

“You Lan really write one song for one purpose and that’s it,” Wei Wuxian said. Lan Qiren thought it wasn’t meant to be an insult, but it sounded like one anyway; a master reprimanding a student for refusing to broaden their horizon. “When I controlled my ghosts and corpses, there was no such thing as a melody, merely using whatever the spirit needed.”

And now he was suggesting he could see what Lan Qiren’s spirit needed?

“Influencing a living being like that – it’s demonic!” Truly demonic, the worst of all that each and every follower of Wei Wuxian had fallen into.

“And yet I am only using spiritual energy,” Wei Wuxian countered and stopped playing. “Besides, your songs influence the living too. Just because they aren’t specialized to work on one particular person, doesn’t mean they don’t still work like that.”

Lan Qiren opened his mouth again, ready to show Wei Wuxian that if he just recalled the basics of cultivation, a lecture Lan Qiren knew for sure the boy had heard before because he had instructed him with it, then Wei Wuxian would realize he was crossing into boundaries unknown.

Unfortunately, his stomach indeed didn’t particularly favor him getting so worked up yet as a sting in his gut reminded him.

Concern flashed over Wei Wuxian’s face as he got up to fetch bitter-smelling tea. “Careful, old man. I’m not used to shoving anyone’s guts but my own back inside. I did purchase some medicinal tea, but we’re relying on your core to heal you.”

Wei Wuxian offered him the tea and Lan Qiren forced himself to accept it with thanks, which, unfortunately, had Wei Wuxian grinning like the smug boy he was. It was beyond infuriating that he couldn’t do anything without deriving some entertainment for himself.

The tea was truly awful, unlike the meals in the Cloud Recesses, though their guests often claimed those were unpleasant too. Lan Qiren would suspect Wei Wuxian of trying to poison him, but Wei Wuxian could’ve killed him while he was unconscious or left him to die in the Burial Mounds at Song Lan’s hands—

“Where is Song Lan?” Lan Qiren asked, interrupting his own thoughts.

“Ah.” Wei Wuxian‘s smile froze and then, before he could stop himself, he glanced towards his right, where a large chest sat.

Lan Qiren took a deep breath and exhaled carefully. “Wei Wuxian,” he said slowly. “Did you drag Song Lan’s corpse in the chest?”

“He walked himself into it,” Wei Wuxian corrected Lan Qiren before wincing. “It’s not like I could just leave him there. However Xue Yang made him, it’s not how I returned Wen Ning to life.”

Yes, Wen Ning’s resurrection, another one of Wei Wuxian’s transgressions. Once, Lan Wangji had explained what he understood of Wei Wuxian’s process. Back then, Lan Qiren had been little interested in the how, more angered that Lan Wangji had gone to see Wei Wuxian at all and not immediately terminated the corpse. Wen Ning had not yet become the Ghost General, but he was already feared.

“We should allow his soul to pass on,” Lan Qiren said. “Get him out of the chest.”

Unsurprisingly, Wei Wuxian felt no inclination at all to follow his orders. “You mean we should kill him anew.”

“He has already died at Xue Yang’s hands. He deserves his rest.”

Wei Wuxian tilted his head. It wasn’t exactly a disagreement, but it wasn’t agreement either.

“Well, if you’re awake now, I suppose we can let the man talk for himself.”

Wei Wuxian stood up and crossed the distance to the chest. He drew a talisman in the air and opened it, revealing the fierce corpse. Song Lan’s body had to crouch to fit into the box, wound tight the way only the undead could be. At a sharp whistle, the corpse stood out of the chest, entirely unresponsive, eyes as blank as they’d been when they’d fought.

“He has nails drilled into his head here,” Wei Wuxian said, raising his fingers to Song Lan’s neck. The corpse didn’t flinch – and Lan Qiren hated that he had expected him to do so.

Instead, he reached for his guqin. Injured or not, he could play his chords even if Wei Wuxian unleashed all the bitter resentment here.

“Ready?” Wei Wuxian asked drily. “You could have a little faith in me.”

Clearly, he didn’t expect an answer, but Lan Qiren figured that the way his hands hovered about his instrument, his weapon, a song of healing played as easily as chord assassination, was answer enough.

Carefully, Wei Wuxian removed the first nail from Song Lan’s head. It was long and thin, and looked as though they’d been self-made and not the work of a professional. Another nail followed the first, then two, and finally, four long nails rested in Wei Wuxian’s hand. Suspiciously enough, they all came away bloody.

“Xue Yang must have inserted them as soon as he died,” Wei Wuxian observed. “Well, let’s try this. Wake up.”

Wei Wuxian snapped his fingers and all at once, the corpse twitched, his unnatural posture shifting to something less rigid, the way someone might hold themselves after studying in the library for hours, testing out how their numb limbs felt.

The corpse’s eyes fluttered, and then narrowed onto Wei Wuxian and Lan Qiren.

“Good evening, daozhang,” Wei Wuxian greeted him politely.

Was it evening already? Just how long has Lan Qiren slept? He should’ve asked about their circumstances first before allowing Wei Wuxian to make all the decisions.

“I’m not sure if you remember us—”

The corpse nodded once, sharply.

“Ah.” Wei Wuxian paused. “You do? Then we know we killed Xue Yang.”

Song Lan nodded again, strangely tight in his expression as if he were holding back.

“Can’t you speak?” Lan Qiren inquired, suspicious of the silence.

Lan Wangji had relayed that Wen Ning had been fully conscious and capable of speaking and making his own decisions. Song Lan was not Wei Wuxian’s work, but he seemed aware enough. There was no reason for him to remain incapable of speaking.

With a bitter glare, Song Lan opened his mouth.

“My apologies,” Lan Qiren said. “I meant no insult.”

Whether Song Lan accepted his apology or even cared about it was unclear. Perhaps his anger was directed more towards Xue Yang and his crimes than the current state of his body.

“Daozhang,” Wei Wuxian took over the conversation again. “Do you know what Xue Yang was doing in the Burial Mounds?”

Song Lan gave them a long stare before raising his hands.

“Ah, yes, paper. Hold on.” Wei Wuxian reached into his sleeve, where he’d kept the talisman paper he used in the fight. Lan Qiren should’ve had a disciple keep track of what Wei Wuxian wanted to bring on their expedition, as he could hardly search the man himself without raising suspicion.

Wei Wuxian handed Song Lan the paper and then, from one of the side tables, gave him a brush and ink.

Obediently, Song Lan sat down, taking up the space on the table previously occupied by Lan Qiren’s guqin.

When he had finished writing, he raised the paper into the air so they could both read it.

He was attempting to restore Xiao Xingchen’s spirit, it read.

“Xiao Xingchen,” Wei Wuxian repeated. “Who is that?”

“My friend, once,” Song Lan replied. “A student of Baoshan Sanren.”

It seemed that all of Baoshan Sanren’s students left the safety of her mountain only to die a vicious death. Lan Qiren had yet to learn of an exception.

“Baoshan Sanren?” Wei Wuxian’s voice cut through the air like a knife. “He was her student? Does he know—” Wei Wuxian suddenly bit his lip before shaking his head. “Forget it. You said that Xue Yang was trying to restore Xiao Xingchen’s soul after it splintered upon his death?”

“Yes, exactly. What do you know of his soul?”

From the same sleeve Wei Wuxian had taken the talisman before, he now took a small pouch radiating spiritual energy.

“He made a spirit-trapping pouch to keep Xiao Xingchen’s soul from splintering further,” Wei Wuxian explained. “The spirit within is badly damaged, but Xue Yang must have spent many hours attempting to bring it to unity again. As mad as he was, he was singular in fixing this. Spirit trapping pouches require a skilled and steady hand to make, and this one is modified, too.”

Wei Wuxian was correct in that. Lan Qiren himself didn’t possess the skill to make such a device. Only a few selected Elders of the Lan did, all residing on the women’s side of the Cloud Recesses.

“Where did you find this?” As soon as he’d written his question, Song Lan put down the brush to hold out his hand with the care of a parent preparing to hold their newborn for the first time. Wei Wuxian was just as gentle handing the pouch to Song Lan.

The fierce corpse closed his hands around the pouch, encasing it like a precious treasure. Lan Qiren doubted that anything short of total annihilation could pry those hands open.

“I found the pouch stored between the remains of his body,” Wei Wuxian answered. “The stitching on the side ensured it wouldn’t be destroyed.”

The implication was clear; Xue Yang’s body hadn’t survived the assault of the Wen remnants.

“What did you do with his body?” Lan Qiren asked. Had Wei Wuxian just left it there? There was no telling what horrid creature it would turn into with all the lingering darkness of the Burial Mounds.

Predictably, Wei Wuxian only rolled his eyes at Lan Qiren. “No need to give me such a terrible look, Old Man Lan. I didn’t leave Xue Yang’s corpse in the Burial Mounds. I had Song Lan help carry it and you down. Ah.” Wei Wuxian turned to Song Lan and bowed in repentance. “I apologize for making you do such a task. This body of mine is quite skilled at many things, but I couldn’t attempt both tasks.”

Song Lan merely inclined his head before hesitantly reaching for the brush again. “What did you do with his body?”

“I buried it outside the city limits,” Wei Wuxian answered. “I wouldn’t put it past Xue Yang to have created some deranged measures to ensure he could be a nuisance even after his death. I thought it would be best to give him an appropriate burial. The Burial Mounds themselves aren’t expansive; they will not devour his grave, and Yiling builds away from the Burial Mounds.”

“So you didn’t have him walk back into his grave?” Lan Qiren asked before he could think the better of it.

Wei Wuxian snorted. “No. I only did that when we had too many corpses to bury. Do you remember that too, Lan Qiren?”

Lan Qiren had thankfully witnessed Wei Wuxian marching the corpses of their enemies back into their own graves only once, but he’d heard the stories of Wei Wuxian doing the same to their allies often enough. Most walking corpses rose because of faulty burials. Lan Qiren struggled to believe that no corpse had protested digging its own grave, yet none of Wei Wuxian’s corpses ever rose again unless commanded by him.

Still, the action was gruesome all the same.

“Daozhang,” Wei Wuxian addressed the fierce corpse instead of lingering on the topic. “What do you want to do now?”

He was a corpse. He shouldn’t want for anything but rest.

“Xingchen’s body is still in Yi City. I’d like to take his spirit there.”

Lan Qiren had never heard of that city, he couldn’t imagine it to be large or significant. If Xue Yang had hidden out there, it was probably somewhat cut off from the surrounding villages and the sect responsible for them.

“Is that far from Lanling?” Wei Wuxian asked. “We’re heading to Koi Tower to speak to our esteemed Chief Cultivator on some matters. I’m sure the death of Xue Yang would interest him too.”

It would, especially given that Xue Yang was already supposed to be dead, but would it inconvenience Wei Wuxian terribly to speak of such matters as suggestions that Lan Qiren was asked to weigh his opinion on instead of decisions?

Song Lan shook his head. “It is on the way.”

Hearing that, Wei Wuxian grinned widely, the expression hauntingly familiar to that of the young man he used to be, even if the body wasn’t. “Well, then, I say we accompany you there! It wouldn’t do for someone to attack you while traveling.”

Because Song Lan was a fierce corpse and should not be walking anywhere!

“There is also a girl,” Song Lan wrote after some time. “She lived with Xiao Xingchen. I think she managed to escape. I’d like to look for her.”

“We can do that too!”

Done with Wei Wuxian’s singular input to the conversation, Lan Qiren spoke up. “Wei Wuxian, have you forgotten that we do, in fact, have our own task and are expected to arrive in Lanling within days?”

Wei Wuxian only waved Lan Qiren’s concerns away. “So you say, Old Man Lan, but really, isn’t this the same task? Xue Yang had an imitation of my tally and he trained under the Jin. Even if Jin Guangyao is as innocent as you believe him to be, we have to at least mention how concerning it is that its creation was never publicized.”

Right, the tally. Yet another object Wei Wuxian hadn’t informed him of immediately.

Wei Wuxian realized this as soon as he had spoken and his cheery expression froze as if captured by a painting.

“Wei Wuxian! What did you do with the seal?”

“It’s safe,” Wei Wuxian offered up as though this was enough of an explanation.

“Where?”

Wie Wuxian leaned back and studied Lan Qiren with narrow eyes. “Do you wish to becomeWen Ruohan and Jin Guangshan’s equal by desiring such an object, Teacher Lan?”

Lan Qiren did not snarl at Wei Wuxian, he was above such actions, but he couldn’t keep the edge from his reprimand. “I do not desire such a cursed object! I want it gone out of the world just like—”

“Just like me?” Wei Wuxian finished his sentence drily. “You Lan are honest to the bone even when you could be polite instead, aren’t you?”

He wasn’t necessarily wrong, even if it wasn’t what Lan Qiren had intended to say. Besides, their rules told them to balance honesty and sharp words, weighing one against the other according to the situation. He wanted to explain this to Wei Wuxian, teach him a lesson about his hurtful words for once, but as so often in his conversations with Wei Wuxian, they were only turning in circles.

Wei Wuxian sighed and took his own cup of tea from the table, though he did not drink from it immediately. “I left it in the Burial Mounds.”

Surprised, Lan Qiren’s expression softened. He hadn’t expected Wei Wuxian to give first.

“You were asleep for a day, Old Man Lan. After putting you and Song Lan here, I did a roundup of the village. The walking corpses were the byproduct of Xue Yang disturbing the Burial Mounds. I put them to rest or contained them so they can’t harm the villagers. The barrier you erected after my death and the old ones I repaired should keep any other hopefuls out of the Burial Mounds. There’s no safer place for Xue Yang’s version of the tally than a place nobody but the mad dare to enter anyway.”

Lan Qiren scrutinized Wei Wuxian, but he couldn’t see even a hint of a lie on his face. That didn’t mean too much, Wei Wuxian certainly knew how to keep his secrets, but this was not a fight Lan Qiren could win either way.

“Fine. When are we leaving?”

“As soon as you’re well, I’d say. That is, if you can wait that long?” The latter question was addressed to Song Lan, still holding on to the remains of Xiao Xingchen’s soul.

It was strange to see the dead so careful with something, a face distorted in living grief than undead anger. Lan Qiren had encountered spirits that weren’t as aggressive as a fierce corpse, content to lead cultivators to their desired grave. There was a reason that liberation was the first of all precepts a cultivator should follow. Perhaps at his friend’s grave, Song Lan would find the rest he sought, yet the unorthodoxy of this situation didn’t sit well with Lan Qiren.

“Another night then,” Lan Qiren decided as Song Lan nodded in agreement.

Content to leave the situation at this point, Song Lan retreated behind a privacy screent, where Lan Qiren suspected the utensils for washing up were. It occurred to Lan Qiren that he didn’t feel as terrible as he should have after suffering a gut wound in the Burial Mounds. Indeed, he felt clean—

Focusing on himself for the first time, Lan Qiren noticed that he was missing several layers of clothing. Naturally, he would’ve had to be undressed so someone could bandage the wound, and given the lack of doctors, and that Song Lan had to be woken by Wei Wuxian, that really only left one person to have cared for him.

“Wei Wuxian—!”

Sensing that Lan Qiren was about to start another discussion with him, Wei Wuxian excused himself hastily. “I’ll get us dinner and check on the horses!”

Without giving Lan Qiren a chance to question him, Wei Wuxian disappeared from the room, leaving Lan Qiren in relative silence. Song Lan made no sound at all – how could he with an unbeating heart and lungs without the need for air?

With a sigh, Lan Qiren set his guqin aside to study his surroundings. The room was relatively nice, probably one of the better inns as far as Yiling’s hospitality went.

What couldn’t be missed, however, were the bloody talismans hung up on each wall. Lan Qiren wanted to be vexed that Wei Wuxian continued using this accursed medium when they had perfectly fine ink right there. He had handed it to the fierce corpse to write with, yet couldn’t be bothered to use it for himself?

His talismans, which, infuriatingly enough, didn’t even need blood as a medium as far as he could tell, were most efficient at making this room as secure as the heart of a sect’s stronghold. As always, Lan Qiren continued to be  a little impressed with Wei Wuxian’s brilliance while utterly vexed at the man himself.

Barely a week on the road with Wei Wuxian and already they had run into such trouble. It truly was as it had been claimed nearly a decade before, Wei Wuxian attracted trouble seemingly even without trying. Though, perhaps it was unfair of Lan Qiren to lay the blame solely at Wei Wuxian’s feet. No, the strange direction their travels had taken was Lan Qiren’s fault alone. From allowing Wei Wuxian to live in the Cloud Recesses unrecognized to picking the first inn for them to sleep in – hadn’t that been the consequence of Lan Qiren’s actions?

That Xue Yang had been alive was a mistake of the highest order. Even if the Chang clan had not pressed any charges against Xue Yang, it was clear that Xue Yang had committed such crimes and would only escalate. They should’ve contained him when they had the chance. If Nie Mingjue were still alive to be informed of these circumstances, he’d fall to a qi deviation a second time.

The years after Wei Wuxian’s death, for all that they should’ve been the start to a more glorious and peaceful era, had been anything but. Riddled with old grievances and petty squabbles, had the sects been any better than before the war against the Wen?

The very Wen into whose shoes Jin Guangshan had stepped.

When Wei Wuxian had spoken these words for the first time, they had been said with the arrogance of a young man on a doomed path.

Now, spoken anew, Lan Qiren was forced to accept that Wei Wuxian had shown a foresight many had lacked.

Certainly, the Lan had profited from Lan Xichen’s sworn brotherhood to Jin Guangyao, but Lan Qiren wondered, not for the first time, whether Jin Guangshan would’ve asked them to return every borrowed coin with twice the interest. In some ways, it was almost a blessing he had died before he could ask for that. Lan Qiren was not in the habit of wishing death upon anyone, least of all an ally, but Jing Guangshan’s grief after his son and daughter-in-law’s death took the shape of women and alcohol – and this Lan Qiren could certainly condemn.

So far, Jin Guangyao had proved himself to be a fair sect leader and chief cultivator. Even now that his son was born, he had never shunned his nephew or tried to displace him. Though, perhaps, such conversation was only ahead. Jiang Wanyin‘s protectiveness of his last living family member, the boy Wei Wuxian had orphaned, was clear enough. With the Jin having a second heir, perhaps Jiang Wanyin would rob Jin Rulan of one birthright to give him another.

Inheritances were a heavy burden, and one not always carried well.

Lan Qiren had tried to do his best by his nephews, inheriting children, inheriting a sect, unprepared for either. He hadn’t always succeeded–the culmination of his failures was currently fetching him dinner.

And yet, Lan Qiren couldn’t entirely disregard what he’d seen in the Burial Mounds either. Deprived of battle, the camp where Wei Wuxian had lived with the Wen had been pitiful, certainly not the seat of a new sect or an army. Rumors had spoken far and wide of Wei Wuxian dishonoring the sect who’d raised him even further by starting his own, but Lan Wangji had always denied them. His nephew certainly couldn’t be trusted when it concerned Wei Wuxian, but Lan Wangji hadn’t ever once lied to him, not when it came to Wei Wuxian’s actual actions as opposed to his intentions.

Seeing the corpses of the Wen, the refugee camp, recalling that Jin Zixun had admitted to imprisoning Wen Ning unlawfully and worse – screaming that not only had Wei Wuxian killed his cousin, he’d cursed him too. The latter was now proven false, could Lan Qiren still believe everything he’d been told?

Lan Qiren was not in the habit of lying to himself, so he had to admit that the Wen were many things, cultivators too, but they hadn’t been an army. Even a small sect such as the decimated Yao clan could’ve probably taken them on their own if not for Wei Wuxian’s cultivation. It was questionable in what capacity the Wen could’ve even served as cultivators in battle.

What cultivator would lower themselves to make fruit wine in a graveyard and how powerful could an old woman with brittle bones be? The Elders of his own sect, who remembered conversations with Lan Qiren’s grandfather, looked younger still than the grandmother of the child Lan Wangji claimed as his own.

Had Wei Wuxian not discovered Lan Yuan, would he have run away at the first chance he got? It seemed likely to Lan Qiren, though he couldn’t imagine where Wei Wuxian would disappear to. Perhaps he would’ve walked to the Burial Mounds anyway, created graves for the people he’d failed to protect.

And yet Wei Wuxian had remained, had settled within the Lan sect, at the side of – and Lan Qiren couldn’t deny this connection, even if it wasn’t one of blood as he had once feared – his son and Lan Yuan’s peers. Not once had Wei Wuxian stepped out of line or threatened to harm anyone in his sect, not even Lan Qiren when he’d learned of Lan Wangji’s punishment. Perhaps it was only a long scheme, but if so, why would Wei Wuxian bother with saving Lan Qiren, or Song Lan? He could’ve kept the man unconscious and used his body as Xue Yang did, and yet he hadn’t. Wei Wuxian hadn’t even known of Song Lan’s fragile connection to Baoshan Sanren through Xiao Xingchen.

Instead, Wei Wuxian wished to carry on, to discover why he had been summoned instead of attempting to rid himself of the curse entirely, claiming this body for his own. Lan Qiren wasn’t a fool. Wei Wuxian had invented an entirely new path of cultivation in two years, if he’d started experimenting as early as he’d started suggesting it. He could use this time to figure out how to fix the summoning spell to keep him here.

Of the whole year he was gifted, three months had already passed, leaving him with nine to save his own spirit. Even for a man as brilliant as Wei Wuxian, that wasn’t so much time to figure out something as complex as the summoning spell.

And if they figured out why he’d been summoned, what of the aftermath? Where would they put Wei Wuxian? And worse, what would Lan Qiren have to do?

Perhaps something could be worked out, anything that would keep his family safe without robbing Lan Yuan of yet another parent. Lan Qiren would never like Wei Wuxian, but he could learn to tolerate him if he remained as he had when living in the Cloud Recesses: quiet, out of the way, harmless.

“I hope you like your bitter vegetables, old man,” Wei Wuxian said as he stepped through the door, carrying a tray of plain rice and another meal so red that it already burned Lan Qiren’s tongue. How much chili did the boy need on his food and could this new body of his even stand it? Wei Wuxian first crossed the distance to Song Lan, handing him a steaming cup. Lan Qiren didn’t know what Song Lan was supposed to do with it. A fierce corpse couldn’t eat or drink, nor did it feel heat or cold. Maybe the water was only supposed to stimulate his limbs where the resentment failed.

Then Wei Wuxian settled at their table, sitting across from Lan Qiren. You’d think that after all their earlier conversation, Wei Wuxian would already be sick of him.

“You will make yourself sick with that,” Lan Qiren said as he accepted his meal – a harsh reversal of his and Wei Wuxian’s usual dynamic.

“I have been eating it since I returned from the Burial Mounds with you. You should give it a try! Even Lan Zhan enjoyed it when we ate here.”

Lan Qiren couldn’t recall Lan Wangji speaking of taking a meal with Wei Wuxian here, but it didn’t seem implausible. Lan Wangji didn’t lie, but that didn’t mean he told Lan Qiren everything. He wondered when his nephew had started keeping secrets. He hadn’t done so when he was a small child, even telling on himself for running when nobody had seen it. Had he begun when his mother died? When Wei Wuxian first jumped over their outer walls and Lan Wangji started wanting someone he shouldn’t?

“I will refrain,” Lan Qiren said. “And you truly should be careful with Wang Chunhua’s body.”

Wei Wuxian only waved his hand dismissively as he shoved the first piece of chicken into his mouth and promptly moaned obscenely at the taste. “Wang Chunhua’s body can withstand this just fine. I put a lot of work into it, you know?”

“I don’t,” Lan Qiren replied.

Wei Wuxian only frowned at him like he was trying to figure out if Lan Qiren was messing with him. “I told you her meridians were a mess.”

“Yes,” Lan Qiren answered with a patience he didn’t feel. “This is not an explanation.”

It was like instructing young Wei Wuxian all over again, the boy having no idea how to structure an argument.

“Wang Chunhua was another week or two away from a most likely fatal and incredibly painful qi deviation,” Wei Wuxian elaborated. “Whatever branch of demonic, and I truly mean demonic, cultivation she followed, it wasn’t meant for a body with a golden core.”

Which cultivator wouldn’t have a golden core, Lan Qiren thought, but he supposed Wei Wuxian’s argument measured up well enough. Most who tried their hand at demonic cultivation were just strong enough to realize they could only reach higher if they got proper training or were willing to put in four times the effort they had so far. Few were willing to work so much, and thus they chose to practice demonic cultivation instead. It allowed people access to an unlimited amount of resentful energy when their own spiritual energy was limited.

“You can wield both,” Wei Wuxian mused as though considering the thought for the first time. “Just not like that, channeling them simultaneously through the same meridians.”

“No,” Lan Qiren said drily. “They’d have to do it as you did, and nobody figured out just what madness you got up to.”

“That’s right,” Wei Wuxian answered, his voice somewhat distant. “They’d have to do as I did.”

The light of his amusement didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“In any case, I suppose that’s why Xue Yang assumed Wang Chunhua was summoning Wen Qing. She would’ve been able to help Wang Chunhua, but Wen Qing was a doctor only. The most brilliant, but still not a demonic cultivator. Wang Chunhua would’ve died anyway, but maybe after a year or two, unless she drastically changed her habits.”

Well, she had drastically changed one thing for sure.

At least this explained why Wei Wuxian wasn’t flaunting his unorthodox cultivation everywhere and relied on the spiritual cultivation he had abandoned before. He’d risk falling into the same pits Wang Chunhua dug before he could recover.

Lan Qiren supposed that meant he’d have to watch for when Wei Wuxian was healthy enough again to wield the power of his last life.

Chapter Text

By morning, Lan Qiren’s wound was mostly healed. Washing himself and dressing to his own standard was a relief and prepared his mind for dealing with the hassle that was Wei Wuxian. His robes, lying folded on a chest for him to pick up, had been clean as though they’d never been dragged through the dirt of the Burial Mounds. For his own peace of mind, he assumed that one of the inn workers had handled the clothes and not Wei Wuxian. After preparing himself, Lan Qiren woke Wei Wuxian and notified Song Lan that they’d be leaving soon.

The fierce corpse hadn’t moved all night, staying in his corner of the room with Xiao Xingchen’s spirit cradled close to his heart. The grief of the dead was nearly indistinguishable from that of the living.

When Lan Qiren went downstairs for breakfast, he found himself  surrounded by a group of people eagerly giving praise despite the early hour. Wei Wuxian especially was held in high regard; it seemed that the story of their actions had been dispersed to the entire village overnight.

“It was no trouble, please,” Wei Wuxian told someone when they offered to sponsor their breakfast, paying with Lan Qiren’s coin instead.

Well, it was only right that they didn’t take any money for this. The fact that Yiling had been left without supervision for so long was a shame. At the start, many sects had been interested in Yiling, not because they cared for the people, but because they hoped to gain further insight into Wei Wuxian’s cultivation. When his spirit refused to be raised for the third year in a row, that interest had disappeared entirely, everyone now agreeing that they’d done an excellent job keeping the Yiling Patriarch from returning in any way.

Staring at Wei Wuxian from across the table, Lan Qiren considered that Wei Wuxian hadn’t shown up out of sheer spite.

Still, the situation in Yiling was something to consider for the future. Jin Guangyao had advocated for his observation tower project with places such as Yiling in mind where no sect wanted to feel responsible or was within reach. While Gusu Lan was not, by any means, the closest to the city, perhaps they were the most skilled in dealing with the particular problems arising here.

Breakfast passed in relative silence on Lan Qiren’s side, though Wei Wuxian could hardly be stopped from chatting with the villagers. He deflected closer inquiries into their actions and elaborated at length about other cultivation matters, such as the discussion conference Gusu Lan was to host or the influences of cultivation on farming, of all things.

It turned out that Wei Wuxian knew an unreasonable amount about farming and how cultivation might be used in it for a man raised to be a martial sect leader’s right hand.

After breakfast, they finally packed up and retrieved their horses from the stables. They only had the two and Lan Qiren wondered for a moment whether they ought to get a third one for Song Lan. The fierce corpse answered Lan Qiren’s unvoiced question simply by walking next to them, keeping up just fine. Song Lan showed no sign of exhaustion, but what could even exhaust a fierce corpse that could not feel physical pain?

All the breaks they took were for Lan Qiren and Wei Wuxian’s sake, or that of the horses.

Wei Wuxian continued spoiling his mare, talking to it as though it were his travel companion and not an animal. When it was unwilling to entertain his antics, he regaled Song Lan with odd stories. The fierce corpse, somehow, did not grow annoyed at Wei Wuxian’s ramblings and, every once in a while, stopped walking to write a reply on paper for Wei Wuxian to read.

“This is going to be tedious long-term,” Wei Wuxian said after getting yet another such a reply and then busied himself with developing a talisman that might ease communication for Song Lan even though the corpse possessed no spiritual energy to activate a talisman.

Lan Qiren would be impressed at Wei Wuxian’s ability to draw a talisman up without reference works if Wei Wuxian’s accompanying mutterings weren’t so annoying and seemingly reliant on asking what the worst possible consequence could be.

Lan Qiren refused to ask Wei Wuxian what he was basing the talisman on, though he noticed his drifting thoughts lingering on communication tools developed by one of his ancestors. If Song Lan asked, and Lan Qiren listened intently to the explanation Wei Wuxian offered them, that was a whole other matter. Annoyingly enough, Wei Wuxian’s explanations were as structured as when he instructed the younger disciples in the library. It wasn’t as much of a mess as his usual conversations with Lan Qiren, but the diction of someone speaking of a topic they were genuinely knowledgeable in.

Considering his wild gesturing, Wei Wuxian also enjoyed this part of cultivation. At some point, the conversation had switched to harmless talismans he’d developed as a student. He spoke flippantly of them, but Lan Qiren knew few students capable of creating any kind of talisman on the fly.

Wei Wuxian was obviously having fun theorizing out loud, which really hammered home the difference to his behavior before dying. Had the resentment overwhelmed him so that he had forgotten how much he used to love practicing the cultivation he’d done away with after declaring it weak?

It was a question for the future, another thing for Lan Qiren to keep an eye on if Wei Wuxian were to remain here.

Despite their stay in the Burial Mounds, they made good time on their travels to Yi City and soon reached a village that, according to Song Lan, was the last before Yi City.

Even without asking, it was clear to see which path would lead to their destination. Two of the three leading away from the village were well-traveled and inviting while the third had patches of weeds growing over it and looked generally unpleasant. No doubt that if a fierce corpse had been raised in any village, it would be the one sitting at the end of this rotting path.

When they headed in the direction, a man in rough clothing approached them. A farmer, Lan Qiren would guess, given the tan on his face and arms.

“Xiansheng, are you headed towards Yi City?” the man asked, foregoing any introductions or polite conversation.

“Yes,” Wei Wuxian replied as Song Lan strategically turned away from the farmer’s view. “Is there a reason you’re asking?”

The man appeared confused that Wei Wuxian was answering him, when he’d meant to address Lan Qiren. True enough, when accompanied by an elder, it should not be the young woman speaking out in any circumstances. As it was, Lan Qiren had very little patience for conversations and would gladly let Wei Wuxian handle the small talk.

Now, the farmer looked nervous, his eyes darting to the side. “Not so much, it’s just… Usually, we get visitors from Yi City to trade with, but lately, hardly anyone has passed through. The people of Yi City specialize in the creation of funerary items. It is truly excellent work, so we commission them, but we haven’t heard anything from them in a while. The path to the city is not the most comforting, and the last boy traveling there is yet to return. I hoped you’d tell us how the city is faring once you travel there. Such silence… It is never a good sign.”

No, it wasn’t. Under any other circumstances, such strict separation would leave one thinking that sickness had broken out somewhere and the entire city had been put into strict isolation, shutting the city gates to anyone trying to leave or enter the village. Knowing that Xue Yang had committed his experiments there, and most likely did his utmost to stop anyone from noticing it, changed that perspective.

“We’ll be sure to inform you,” Wei Wuxian promised the man.

His shoulders sank in relief. “Thank you, guniang.”

Wei Wuxian grinned entirely inappropriately. “It’s Lan-er-furen, actually! See, I’m traveling with my husband’s uncle!”

Heaven forbids Wei Wuxian stayed quiet on such matters.

The farmer only seemed confused about Wei Wuxian’s correction, likely not understanding that it wasn’t him Wei Wuxian was playing tricks on. “Ah, then, I thank you, Lan-er-furen?”

The farmer returned to his house, surrounded by a teenage boy and two young girls pointing at Wei Wuxian and whispering to each other.

Their group, however, continued on to Yi City. It soon became clear why the farmer had spoken so cautiously of Yi City. The path grew wilder the further away they got from the village and soon also much less distinguishable as fog wove itself through the surrounding forest like spiderwebs and slowly crawled upon the path.

“The miasma here is terrible,” Wei Wuxian said. “Song Lan, was it like this already when you arrived?”

Lan Qiren could hardly see the fierce corpse walking ahead of them, but Song Lan reached for Wei Wuxian’s mare, likely to show Wei Wuxian his reply.

“He says yes,” Wei Wuxian shouted back at Lan Qiren. “If that is so, I wouldn’t be surprised if the people here die soon and never get very old even without Xue Yang’s influence, though he must have certainly worked to increase the damage. Ah, that would explain why they specialize in funerary goods as well, wouldn’t it? You never live long, so you might as well make a business out of it!”

While Wei Wuxian was much too happy speaking of such matters for Lan Qiren’s taste, he wasn’t wrong. Multiple cities were at the edge of dangerous territory because the grief they brought provided just enough income to be worth the risk. After all, there was always hope that misfortune would fall upon your neighbor instead of you. Lan Qiren much preferred it when it was the other way around; people settling near places of good fortune. Lan An hadn’t just settled in Gusu because of the tranquility their home provided, though that certainly must have been a factor as well. No, their cold ponds were places where intense cultivation was possible.

As the path got broader again, they rode side by side, Song Lan in their middle so he wouldn’t vanish in the fog. When they reached the city gates, they saw that the coloring of the gateway was spotty, revealing white in many places, and the sign with the city’s name had also seen better days. No guard or any other kind of watchman stood at the entrance as there would if sickness had truly consumed the city, yet the lack of human presence didn’t calm Lan Qiren’s mind either. Usually, someone should be here to ask their intentions, but only silence greeted them.

Song Lan didn’t remember Yi City clearly. There was no telling what Xue Yang had done to the villagers since settling here.

“No city should ever look like this,” Wei Wuxian said, swinging himself off the horse. Lan Qiren followed suit and they led the horses into the city by their reins, unwilling to leave them unsupervised.

Although it was sunny, nobody appeared to be walking through the city. Here and there, Lan Qiren saw a shadow standing behind the window, watching the outside fearfully.

“Was it like this when Xue Yang took you from here to go to the Burial Mounds?” Lan Qiren asked Song Lan.

Song Lan considered the question before shrugging and reaching for his paper again. Writing while walking truly was an inconvenience. “My memories of our departure are not the clearest.”

“They would not be, especially if you died here,” Wei Wuxian commented, sounding somewhat blunt, but mostly as though he genuinely meant it encouragingly. “Wen Ning also recalled little of his actual death. Or if he did, not in a capacity that could be shared with words.”

Suddenly Lan Qiren recalled other war stories, of Wei Wuxian dragging information about approaching Wen forces from the corpses of their soldiers, performing Empathy with little to no supervision. Has he attempted the technique with Wen Ning after his resurrection?

Song Lan didn’t say anything else to Wei Wuxian’s elaboration, merely led them through the village’s main street.

“Is that it?” Wei Wuxian asked, pointing at the collection of houses in the distance.

Song Lan nodded, walking a few steps before suddenly stopping and turning his head, black eyes narrowing. Lan Qiren and Wei Wuxian both followed the direction of his stare, finding themselves confronted with suspicious movement behind them.

“Looks like we picked up a little mouse,” Wei Wuxian said, amused, and nodded at a group of boxes stacked on each other at an abandoned market stall.

Who’d dare trail us?, Lan Qiren wondered before reprimanding himself for the judgmental tone. Every responsible cultivator would follow their suspicious party, though Lan Qiren hoped they’d be honorable enough to confront them outright instead of sneaking around like a common thief.

In truth, Lan Qiren was aggrieved to be questioned at all. They wore Lan sect robes, easily recognized. Their sect’s reputation should be enough to assure another cultivator that they were not out to cause harm, but to prevent the creation of chaos.

Even Lan Qiren had to admit that, while they were doing the right thing superficially, he was still in the company of a fierce corpse and Wei Wuxian. The first could be excused, but not the second.

“Don’t you want to come out?” Wei Wuxian shouted, inviting their shadow to step into the light.

The boxes moved and a small bang echoed like someone had hit their head. Another moment passed and Wei Wuxian called out again. Even if their stalker wasn’t brave, they’d have to admit discovery now. Soon a small figure emerged reluctantly.

It was not a cultivator that stepped out of the abandoned market stall but a young girl, only a few years younger than Lan Qiren’s nephews. Song Lan obviously recognized her as he dropped his paper to the muddy ground and his lips formed a word his mouth couldn’t speak.

“Daozhang!” the girl called out and hurried over to them, raising the staff she carried as though it were a weapon. When she stood before them, the fog was clear enough that Lan Qiren could make out her outfit. She wore beggar’s clothes, ill-fitting and patched up in multiple places. There wasn’t a single bit of fat on her bones, and even her cheeks seemed a little hollow, though that didn’t stop her eyes from being fiery. Her eyes were so pale that Lan Qiren would’ve guessed she was blind, but she could obviously see. It was merely their color that was unique.

“Song-daozhang, are you all right?” the girl addressed the fierce corpse first, distress seeping into her voice, though she didn’t attempt to get within their reach. Smart, if they were an enemy, they could simply grab her.

Song Lan nodded sharply before pointing at the girl’s chest.

“Ah, are you asking after me? I’m fine! Daozhang, did you manage to get away from Xue Yang?” She darted a glance at Lan Qiren and Wei Wuxian. “Are your friends cultivators too?”

“What else would we be?” Wei Wuxian returned her question. “We encountered Song Lan and decided to follow him here.”

“Then you have to help!” the girl immediately burst out. “We don’t have much time. I couldn’t do it on my own. There’s a man here, his name is Xue Yang, well, he is gone right now, but there is no telling when he’ll return! Nobody even dares to set foot onto the streets in fear of his antics! He is the one who turned Song Lan into…”

Tears welled up in the girl’s eyes.

“I tried to find help,” she insisted, sounding more like she needed to convince herself. “I tried, but he nearly caught me once before and I didn’t dare attempt it on my own again. Please, you have to believe me.”

Wei Wuxian easily moved closer to the girl and raised his hand as if to pull the girl close, but he hesitated at the last second.

“We already know,” he said. “You don’t have to worry about Xue Yang anymore. He is gone and won’t be able to hurt anyone ever again.”

The girl’s eyes narrowed, though she didn’t step away from Wei Wuxian. “Are you being honest? Don’t lie to me, not about this!”

“Why should I lie when I travel with Song Lan?” Wei Wuxian said. “Besides, he told me about you too. You must be a-Qing, right? The girl who lived with Xiao Xingchen for a while and tried to save them?”

“Yes, I’m a-Qing and I lived with Xue Yang for a while, so you know I don’t die easily,” a-Qing affirmed and slowly dropped her staff. “And Xue Yang ordered Song Lan around, you could’ve ordered him to tell you too,” the girl said, though her confidence already seemed to waver. She seemed to possess a keen sense for danger, or maybe, more regrettably, had been hurt so often that she met every soul with suspicion.

Still, for all her fear, she was brave too, willing to approach utter strangers like this just because she recognized the corpse accompanying them. And even her assessment was right too – Wei Wuxian probably could’ve kept Song Lan subdued and extracted the knowledge from him in some other manner. Were she any younger, she would’ve been a great cultivator.

“But out of his own free will?” Wei Wuxian asked and pointed at Song Lan with his hand.

The girl followed his expression and studied Song Lan for a moment. Song Lan didn’t smile at her; in truth, his face showed barely any movement due to his being a corpse, but his expression seemed to put her at some ease still as her shoulders dropped. “No, he could not.”

A-Qing pressed her eyes shut and then, unexpectedly, reached for Wei Wuxian. One moment, she stood still, the next, she had her face pressed into Wei Wuxian’s side, her fingers clinging to the fabric.

“Thank you for coming,” she said. “Thank you for bringing him back.”

Wei Wuxian’s expression softened and he put one of his hands on the back of her head. “That’s what we’re here for.”

The girl nodded, clinging to Wei Wuxian for another moment, then let go as she wiped her eyes

“You can rely on us now,” Wei Wuxian said. “In fact, we might need your help a little. Xue Yang was holding on to Xiao Xingchen’s spirit, so now Song Lan is his carrier. We came here to find Xiao Xingchen’s body and give him an appropriate burial too.”

“Xue Yang used to keep it in the coffin house we lived in,” a-Qing said and pointed to one of the buildings Song Lan had been leading them to. “But he moved it further to the city’s edge after I tried to steal it the first time. I wanted to take his body from there too, but I couldn’t do so on my own.”

“You’ve been very brave,” Wei Wuxian said and didn’t protest when a-Qing continued sticking close to his side when they approached that part of Yi City. It somehow looked even more pitiful than the rest, the houses not just abandoned but destroyed.

“Usually, he has an army of corpses here too,” a-Qing explained. “But he worried it would run wild and give away what he was doing here. He didn’t care about any of the living people remaining here, just about anyone coming by and stopping him.”

She paused. “Did dying hurt?”

For a moment, Lan Qiren thought she was asking Wei Wuxian about his death, but he, and Wei Wuxian too, realized a moment later that she meant Xue Yang.

“He got what he deserved,” Wei Wuxian replied.

Yes, Lan Qiren supposed that Xue Yang got precisely what he was asking for.

“Why did nobody discover this?” Lan Qiren decided to change the subject. Certainly someone must have. It was one thing for a single wild spirit to go unnoticed by the cultivation sect in the vicinity, something else for an entire town like this vanishing into resentment.

A-Qing only gave Lan Qiren a scathing look. “Who’d care for this city? It might be renowned in the area, but Yi City isn’t that significant. I ran four towns away and they didn’t even know its name anymore. Besides, Xue Yang told me himself that everyone believed he was dead.”

Lan Qiren didn’t know how to explain to a-Qing that every proper cultivator should care, even without Xue Yang’s name being involved, but perhaps they had all forgotten how.

“It’s just past this building,” a-Qing said.

“You know your way well around here,” Wei Wuxian commented absentmindedly.

A-Qing shrugged. “Like I said, I lived here for a while. Xiao Xingchen picked me up to keep me from stealing.”

Stealing was forbidden, but Lan Qiren was not foolish enough to disregard that few street children were given a choice.

“I pretended to be blind and he was blind for real. People kept trying to mess with him when I wasn’t watching, but he’d just smile and say it was fine whenever I tried to tell him. And then, one day, we found Xue Yang half-dead in a ditch. Xiao Xingchen insisted on saving him and Xue Yang also believed I was blind. He held his sword close to my throat and had me walk forward to test it. It nearly cut my throat.”

A-Qing paused. “It wasn’t always bad? Xue Yang was a creep, but he was fun, too. He made sure nobody but him bullied us for being blind, and he repaired the house and even made food, but then he did all those terrible things…” She bit her lip. “I tried to get Xiao Xingchen to leave, but he didn’t want to leave Xue Yang. He thought him just another lost soul like us, someone who needed to be shown a better path.”

Xiao Xingchen was led astray and betrayed by a cruel man. Lan Qiren glanced at Wei Wuxian. At least he had never—

No, it was not a thought for him to linger on.

A-Qing led them into a well-maintained building that, once upon a time, could’ve been a home for sure. Within was a small kitchen and next to a solid coffin, a straw bed.

“Did he sleep next to Xiao Xincheng’s body?” Wei Wuxian asked.

Lan Qiren decided to leave the matter uncommented as Song Lan’s growing anger was enough.

Together, they pushed the lid off the coffin aside and revealed Xiao Xingchen’s body. Indeed, it looked as close to life as possible, as if he were merely sleeping. Only his lack of breath and the red at his collar gave away what had happened.

He’d been an admirable young man and died much too soon.

A-Qing put her hands over her mouth and this time, the tears rolled over her cheeks as she sobbed. She didn’t dare approach the coffin, unlike Song Lan. He sank to his knees right next to her, his hands hovering over the coffin, not quite touching the body within.

“Come,” Lan Qiren told Wei Wuxian. “We must prepare for the burial.”

Wei Wuxian looked like he wanted to stay a little longer, but Lan Qiren pulled him away. Xiao Xingchen’s death wasn’t his to grieve and they still had a job to fulfill. Lan Qiren took two shovels from the nearest shed for the grave. Retracing their steps shouldn’t be difficult, but after just a few steps, Lan Qiren began doubting just where they’d come from.

“I guess we have our other explanation for Yi City’s isolation,” Wei Wuxian muttered. “Xue Yang must have set up a maze array. The fog is its by-product.”

The explanation was sound, and displeased Lan Qiren greatly. The maze array wasn’t powerful, Xue Yang most likely didn’t know how to create one that surrounded the entire city, but it would be enough for a civilian. Concentrating on the energy flowing through his veins, Lan Qiren continued, trusting Wei Wuxian to do the same. They walked through the city until they reached its border again, this time further west, not quite near the main gate. Just outside the city limits, Lan Qiren found a green field blooming with precious wildflowers. Once the fog was cleared up, the sight would be beautiful.

It reminded Lan Qiren a little of Cangse Sanren. She hadn’t carried any interest in pretty flower arrangements, instead dragging in whatever weed she found lying around, proclaiming them ten times more useful and thus ten times more beautiful. Maybe Xiao Xingchen, another one of Baoshan Sanren’s disciples, would appreciate this place for the same reason.

Together, they began digging the grave. The hems of Lan Qiren’s robes stained with dirt, bringing forth unpleasant memories of burying their dead after the attack on the Cloud Recesses. Lan Qiren had yet to speak a kind word to his brother in their ancestral shrine. He preferred silence, not saying anything at all, lest he begin cursing him.

“Be careful with your wound, old man,” Wei Wuxian said after a while, his clothes just as dirty as Lan Qiren’s. “If you get injured again, we’ll have to take another break.”

“My golden core is not so weak that I still suffer from my injury,” Lan Qiren commented.

By the time they’d finished digging the grave, Lan Qiren’s stomach complained against the strenuous work, traitorously agreeing with Wei Wuxian’s earlier assessment. Unwilling to let such weakness show, Lan Qiren simply continued, urging Wei Wuxian to return to the coffin house.

Inside, a-Qing’s tears had dried and Song Lan stood, Xiao Xingchen’s body cradled in his arms. No blood remained on the collar of his robes. Wordlessly, Lan Qiren led them to the grave they’d dug.

“Lan-er-furen,” a-Qing said without taking her eyes from the grave. “Song-daozhang said that you can raise corpses like Xue Yang did to him. Could you bring back Xiao Xingchen?”

Could Wei Wuxian bring back Xiao Xingchen?

Wei Wuxian shook his head. “No, not in any way that resembled his self. His spirit was badly hurt and will need just as long to heal from the damage before it is ready to return to the reincarnation cycle. Any corpse I’d make of him now would just be another puppet.”

A-Qing turned to Song Lan, who nodded in affirmation. This seemed to be the expected answer, yet they had to ask.

Grieving a loss so terrible you’d do anything for your loved one to return was a desire Lan Qiren could understand to a degree. He too would cross all realms to have a loved one returned to him, but if that was at the price of becoming a fierce corpse, going against the natural order and risking the state of their spirit, he’d never go through with it. Such abominations of death, could they truly be living? Wen Ning had been a monster, killing people even after volunteering to return to the Jin for judgment, and Song Lan seemed entirely consumed by his guilt.

They laid Xiao Xingchen to rest. No tears were shed as they lit the incense, perhaps because they had already wept.

“There are more corpses in the village,” Song Lan scratched into the dirt, careful that his sword didn’t touch any of Xiao Xingchen’s grave dirt.

Wei Wuxian glanced at Lan Qiren. They shouldn’t delay, but a good cultivator first fulfilled their duty. “We will help you.”

“Thank you, but no need. There is only one in you need to look at.”

Lan Qiren frowned. “Why?”

“Dangerous.”

Once more did Song Lan lead them into the city, not at all deterred by the maze array. They passed by the coffin house of earlier to a more secluded area, a courtyard shut away from all sides by strong blood-smeared walls. One carried something that almost looked like the foundations of a maze array.

“This is where Xue Yang conducted his experiments,” Song Lan explained.

Even without Song Lan’s instruction, Lan Qiren could feel the barely contained scream of rage. Xue Yang must have put a seal on this place to stop the corpse’s resentment from spilling beyond the courtyard’s walls. Whoever was buried here would have enough anger to flatten the entire area.

“A-Qing, you might want to return to Xiao Xingchen’s grave,” Wei Wuxian said. “I don’t think our friend here will be particularly inviting.”

A-Qing hesitated but then inclined her head and returned to the direction they’d come from.

Once again they tore into the earth, this time to remove the dead. After freeing the coffin from the earth, they stood in front of a corpse wrapped up in a mess of deteriorating talismans, burning away as they were watching.

“At most, this would’ve held another year or so,” Wei Wuxian judged after examining the talismans closer. “Maybe a little longer if Xue Yang learned to write these properly. “

The calligraphy on the talismans was indeed particularly terrible. If Xue Yang were one of his students, Lan Qiren would have him rewrite every talisman ten times to ensure they were as they ought to be. Talismans required neat calligraphy; that Xue Yang’s had worked at all was a miracle.

Wei Wuxian set aside his shovel and drew up talismans of his own instead, the calligraphy on them, even if it was bloody, much neater. For all his faults, Wei Wuxian was an expert in this field.

“I’ll draw up a barrier, you deal with the corpse?” Wei Wuxian suggested, already halfway through erecting the barrier.

It wasn’t much of a plan, but it was better than Lan Qiren expected from Wei Wuxian in the first place. Compared to their trip to the Burial Mounds, this was almost up to proper nighthunt conduct.

As the strongest of the three of them, Song Lan moved to tear the covering from the coffin.

And then, all at once, a headless body sprang forth, draped in rags of familiar cloth.

Chapter Text

Wei Wuxian missed his cottage in the Cloud Recesses. He missed teaching their little disciples and having three meals a day that, even if a little awful, he didn’t have to prepare himself. He didn’t particularly miss the extravagant robes set aside for Lan-er-furen, but he wished that he hadn’t had to deal with the torn robes he was wearing now. It was the little things that stuck with Wei Wuxian now that he was on the road again.

The Cloud Recesses were boring and predictable and completely lacking in  resentment-fueled corpses on a rampage. Wei Wuxian enjoyed night hunts, he just treasured some peace and quiet too now that he wasn’t fifteen anymore.

The corpse in front of them couldn’t scream on the grounds of its very headless body, but it did look like it would if someone just returned its mouth.

The barrier Wei Wuxian had erected contained it only for a moment, and then Song Lan was left to tackle the body as Wei Wuxian took his sword to join the fray. He wouldn’t be much help against the corpse at full power, but he hoped its lack of head would make it easier to deal with.

Lan Qiren, instead of reaching for his sword, started playing songs of rest on his guqin instead. It didn’t seem to affect the corpse at first, which was fair enough. Wei Wuxian would also be very mad if he’d gotten stuck into a grave dug by Xue Yang without his head. And how were you supposed to listen to Lan songs if you couldn’t even hear them? Wei Wuxian knew that wasn’t how musical cultivation worked, but it still left him wondering.

Had Xue Yang been the one to decapitate the poor guy too? It wouldn’t surprise Wei Wuxian if he had done so in an attempt to see if he could bind multiple spirits to a body, or even warring ones. Replacing one body part with that of another person was a pretty sure-fire way to attract multiple spirits to the same body. The Burial Mounds had left Wei Wuxian with many ideas to draw on for how bodies and spirits could merge in the most hurtful of ways.

Lan Qiren started another round of Rest, which seemed to have the opposite effect of what the song ought to do. It only enraged the spirit further as he fought against the song’s effect.

“Try something else!” Wei Wuxian shouted, drawing the corpse’s attention.

It couldn’t see or hear, but maybe as tightly bound as it had been, it was strong enough to sense them anyway. It did prefer Wei Wuxian to Song Lan, who actually had to fight to get its attention. Most likely, it was because Song Lan was not only full of yin energy, but he was also dead. Wei Wuxian, meanwhile, while not a strong yang cultivator due to his female body, was still very much alive.

And Lan Qiren, of course, was the best snack in the area. Talk about priorities.

The corpse lashed out again, pushing Wei Wuxian to the ground so hard that it knocked the air out of his lungs. For a moment, Wei Wuxian contemplated just lying there and giving up. Let the others do the work for once. To think that all they wanted to do originally was head towards Koi Tower.

“Rest is the best song for this,” Lan Qiren argued, yet switched to some different melody that Wei Wuxian didn’t recognize. It sounded rougher, like something he hadn’t really practiced before, even if it was beautiful—oh.

Wei Wuxian grinned. Improvising, was he now?

Well, now at least he couldn’t reprimand Wei Wuxian for it if he did it himself. Sure enough, the corpse slowly calmed down, though it didn’t necessarily become restful. It calmed enough, however, that Wei Wuxian could slap a binding talisman on it to constrict it until the corpse stopped moving altogether.

“There we go,” Wei Wuxian said, talismans disappearing into his sleeves again. “All in a day’s work.”

He wiped the sweat from his brow, seemingly the only one bothered, as Song Lan was a corpse and thus didn’t sweat, and Lan Qiren was a Lan and thus exempt from mortal indignities altogether. Wei Wuxian would pay to see Lan Qiren at least a little less than perfect, so he’d stop expecting the same neatness from everyone surrounding them.

Lan Qiren played his improvised tune a little longer, then ceased when the corpse was successfully contained. He looked suspiciously grim, his eyes fixed on the corpse like they hadn’t been when fighting Song Lan on his own.

“Do you know who our friend is?” Wei Wuxian asked, curious. He couldn’t imagine anything else that might warrant such concentration otherwise.

Well, aside from his new heretical cultivation. Maybe if Lan Qiren had been a little more inclined to listen to Wei Wuxian as a teenager, they’d have fewer confrontations about the unorthodox.

“I have my suspicions,” Lan Qiren said after a moment’s pause. Wei Wuxian stared at him expectantly, waiting for a reply, but Lan Qiren didn’t elaborate at all.

“And who is it?” Wei Wuxian prompted directly.

Lan Qiren glared at him, though it seemed more perfunctory than truly angry. If anything, Lan Qiren appeared thoroughly more exhausted, and not in the same way he usually got when Wei Wuxian annoyed him.

“The robes he wears,” Lan Qiren said. “Don’t you recognize them?”

Wei Wuxian had been dead for four years, how the fuck was he supposed to recognize anything—actually wait, they did remind him of something. “They look like Nie robes,” Wei Wuxian observed.

There were the dark shifting patterns that Nie Huaisang used to brighten up with streaks of green and yellow. Not much remained of the robes, the corpse had most likely been stripped down to his underrobes, but even so, the cloth remained finely made.

Did their headless man belong to the Nie sect? He couldn’t be just any run-of-the-mill Nie disciple if Lan Qiren was reacting so strangely. Wei Wuxian studied the form of the corpse in front of them. He was tall, even without his head, and broad. His back muscles were nothing to scoff at, and definitely the result of practicing the saber.

“Sect Leader Nie?” Wei Wuxian blurted out, recalling what Lan Qiren had said to him weeks ago.

Nie Huaisang was the sect leader of Qinghe Nie now that his brother had died, leaning heavily on the support of his older brother’s sworn brothers.

“Nie Mingjue, yes. It looks like him,” Lan Qiren confirmed. “Of course, we can’t know without the head, but no part of his body was ever recovered when he went into qi deviation.”

It would seem just like Chifeng-zun to be capable of taking himself out of a situation where he might accidentally hurt his brother, but that didn’t explain everything.

“And just how would Xue Yang come into possession of it?” Wei Wuxian asked. “It doesn’t seem like something he’d care for.”

Xue Yang had spent the last years obsessing over Xiao Xingchen and bringing hell upon everyone who’d ever insulted him.

“I don’t know, Wei Wuxian.” Lan Qiren sighed tiredly. “Sect Leader Nie certainly advocated for Xue Yang’s death. He might have decided to claim revenge by taking Sect Leader Nie’s body instead.”

Wei Wuxian frowned. That didn’t sound entirely correct to him, but he was willing to accept it for now until they found a better hint. “We should try to locate his head to get our answers. I could do Empathy with it.”

If they had to dig up the whole courtyard for it, that would be more work for them, but at least that would mean that they had a spirit they could talk to.

“You will not do Empathy with a corpse!” Lan Qiren immediately hissed. “And I doubt that it’ll be here.”

“Why not?”

Wei Wuxian enjoyed it when he got the upper hand in a conversation, noting things that others failed to take into consideration. Now Lan Qiren was the one taking charge of their little mission, which was most unfortunate.

Lan Qiren didn’t even have the audacity to be smug about it as Wei Wuxian would. He only looked disappointed, like Wei Wuxian was a junior disciple failing a practical test.

“Didn’t you notice during the fight? The corpse kept turning north as if it had a direction it wanted to run to.”

No, of course, Wei Wuxian hadn’t noticed, he’d been a little preoccupied with not dying in a fight where he was the favored target.

North, north, what lay north—ah. Wei Wuxian grinned. “We really do have to go to Koi Tower now.”

Lan Qiren didn’t roll his eyes, most likely because he considered himself above such plebeian actions, but he nodded once, sharply. “That was the goal from the start.”

“Yes, yes,” Wei Wuxian agreed easily. “I just didn’t expect how troublesome the road would be.”

Ah, but Wei Wuxian should’ve known better, shouldn’t he?

Once before he had attempted to walk from the Burial Mounds to Koi Tower, from death to the birth of his nephew, and he’d never managed to finish that route either. Truth be told, Wei Wuxian had hoped that a trip to the Burial Mounds would’ve solved all their problems and they could politely decline to visit Lanling.

And look at them, the Burial Mounds raised only more questions than it delivered answers. Nothing of his life had been left behind in that place but some old wards and a family waiting for their proper burial. He’d suspected that all his tools and ideas, whatever records he’d kept, were either destroyed during the siege or claimed by another sect.

To the winners go the spoils, all his mad ramblings and ideas. If they’d never been discovered, then Wei Wuxian would still be dead and Wang Chunhua stuck in her miserable marriage.

Jiang Cheng wouldn’t have kept even a stone Wei Wuxian touched, so it really had to be the Jin sect claiming everything in retribution.

As if Jin Zixuan, as if his Shijie, would’ve wanted—No, Wei Wuxian had no right to wonder what Jiang Yanli would’ve wanted.

It wouldn’t change anything anyway. Wei Wuxian was still stuck in Wang Chunhua’s body, learning of her past and Wei Wuxian’s legacy through skin alone. He knew which type of meals she enjoyed, the way her sword fit into Wei Wuxian’s hand, and what damage she’d done to herself in the name of greatness.

Whoever had encouraged her research, had they cared at all for Wang Chunhua? Had she cared for them, worked for acknowledgment, or simply pursued her goal with iron determination?

“Song Lan,” Lan Qiren spoke. At first, Wei Wuxian thought he was going to speak about him to Wei Wuxian, but instead, he saw Lan Qiren speaking to the fierce corpse directly, something he’d avoided as long as possible. Curious that now he was apparently just fine talking to the undead. “Is there anything you know about Sect Leader Nie?”

Song Lan shook his head, as definite an answer as he could give.

“I see. Do you intend to leave Yi City with a-Qing?”

Wei Wuxian paused in the middle of wiping the dirt from his sword. Was Lan Qiren really going to put the corpse to rest now? He thought that even if Lan Qiren didn’t agree with Wei Wuxian’s method, he’d seen that Song Lan was a victim with the right to his own choice in this.

Song Lan used his sword to scratch words into the earth. “Will you stop me?”

“No,” Lan Qiren answered. “It appears to me that you are not out to cause anyone any harm out of your own free will. My sect’s rules of conduct require me to shoulder the weight of morality, and as a being of the crooked path, it should be within my responsibility to ensure your spirit too returns to rest.”

Lan Qiren exhaled, slowly. “However, I am not so blind as to ignore your consciousness. I will consider your existence my responsibility. Other cultivators will not hesitate when coming face to face with someone who might be the Ghost General returned. I worry for the safety of your companion and what might happen to her when someone takes offense at your presence.”

A-Qing was no cultivator, just a poor girl who’d seen too much in her short life.  Though, it truly wasn’t that short, was it? She looked young, but she wasn’t much younger than Wei Wuxian had been when the Wen came to Lotus Pier.

But Wei Wuxian had no faith that she wouldn’t be executed for demonic cultivation on the spot simply for being in Song Lan’s presence.

“Old Man Lan,” Wei Wuxian called out. “Are you offering a-Qing a place with the Lan? I could use a maidservant.”

There was no way in hell Wei Wuxian would just leave her to the woman’s side. It was nice, but a-Qing was a brave,wild creature, not a gentle flower to be cultivated in tranquility. He doubted she’d even enjoy that, but if Wei Wuxian kept her close, he could send her to Caiyi and have her run errands when he’d be made to return to seclusion.

“We must take responsibility,” Lan Qiren said as if he or Wei Wuxian had anything to do with this particular mess.

Alright, maybe, Wei Wuxian had a little to do with it if you wanted to blame the presence of every demonic cultivator alive on him, but that truly was going too far. Wei Wuxian wasn’t the first who’d experimented with resentful energy, or the rumors about its fatality wouldn’t have been running rampant.

Wei Wuxian was just unfortunate enough to be the first to show that it could be done with consistency and without the resentment forcing you to your knees crying.

Allegedly.

Wei Wuxian had done much crying and begging on his knees, deep in the Burial Mounds, in the embrace of spirits dressed in bridal red of slit throats.

But that was neither here nor there. Sooner or later, someone would’ve figured out how to do it. Wei Wuxian was just the first, but certainly someone like Xue Yang could’ve managed as well. He’d probably already been fucking around with it. Wei Wuxian couldn’t imagine that whatever notes he’d left behind had been coherent enough to derive a lesson plan from it.

Lesson one, how to keep the ghosts from devouring your intestines. Dropped coreless into the Burial Mounds? Here’s the Yiling Patriarch’s certified recommended method!

Yeah, sure. That would’ve gone over great.

“You have no need for a maidservant,” Lan Qiren said. “What would you even do with her?”

Feed her properly. Teach her how to write and read if she didn’t know it yet, pay for some craftsman in Caiyi to take her under their wing, and teach her something that could earn her money once Wei Wuxian was dead by Wang Chunhua’s hand.

“So you agree we should ask first what she actually wants to do?” Wei Wuxian simply concluded.

That was not the point, and he knew that just fine.

Together, they wrapped up Nie Mingjue’s body in even more seals before using a qiankun pouch to seal his corpse entirely. It wasn’t the best method, but less risky than trying to drag the corpse through the entire city and beyond.

Afterward, the three of them passed through the village again, more curious eyes watching them than before.

“Old Man Lan, you should go speak to them,” Wei Wuxian said. “They had to live with the terror that is Xue Yang terrorizing their village for a while. They need to be assured that it is taken care of.”

Lan Qiren was obviously unwilling to separate from the group, but Wei Wuxian had spent most of the trip handling the civilian population so far. It was time his traveling companion also contributed. Lan Qiren shot Wei Wuxian another look before walking to the first building that looked less like a ramshackle home and more like it might have housed official city business once.

As Lan Qiren went about informing the villagers that the threat was gone, Wei Wuxian and Song Lan returned to the city gates, where a-Qing was already waiting.

“Is the corpse gone?” she asked.

“Yes,” Wei Wuxian said and held up the qiankun bag. Realizing a second later that that didn’t mean anything to her, he explained. “We sealed his body up in this. He won’t be able to escape for a while.”

A-Qing looked like she didn’t entirely believe him, but was willing to let it go. “Are you going to try finding his head?”

“Yes,” he answered. “It seems like it’ll be in the direction we’re heading anyway. Do you want to come along? Both you and Song Lan are welcome to join us.”

A-Qing glanced at Song Lan. “I—” She bit her lip.

Wei Wuxian smiled. “It’s fine, you don’t have to decide immediately. Do you want to help me finish up a talisman that will allow Song Lan to speak more efficiently?”

At that, a-Qing’s eyes widened in surprise. “You can make him speak again?”

“I can ease his writing,” Wei Wuxian corrected her gently. “Can you read?”

“Of course I can  read!” A-Qing snapped before pausing. “Some words, anyway. Xiao Xingchen and Xue Yang taught me by scratching them into the wood for me to feel, so I had to recognize them by shape as I couldn’t look at the letters without giving up the ruse. Xue Yang would sometimes make a cut shallower so I’d miss a stroke and read out an insult.”

Her expression soured at the mention of Xue Yang, but Wei Wuxian could hardly fault her for it.

“You might want to pick up reading then. I am sure Song Lan can teach you.”

Because if a-Qing wouldn’t go with Wei Wuxian and Lan Qiren, which honestly was also not the safest path for her, then she would be traveling with Song Lan and he’d take care of her for the memory of Xiao Xingchen alone.

Wei Wuxian took out the talisman paper he’d worked on while traveling to Yi City.

“Let me show you what I can do with this,” he told her and settled on the ground. Lan Qiren would need a while to speak with the villagers, so they could make the most of this time.

A-Qing was an attentive student, even if she didn’t understand much of what Wei Wuxian was doing. Truth be told, he doubted any junior cultivator would. This was a bit more complex than simple wind talismans or the like.

“Alright,” Wei Wuxian said after a good hour of messing around. “Try this.”

He handed the talisman to Song Lan.

Technically speaking, Song Lan was a being of resentful energy and not so much someone molding it himself, but Wei Wuxian supposed that the distinction wasn’t that important. He’d never gotten Wen Ning to try using resentful energy the way Wei Wuxian did, but he had been certain  that he could.

Song Lan took the talisman and did as Wei Wuxian instructed, channeling resentful energy as though it were spiritual energy

And then, after another moment, dark ink smears appeared in the air and formed a word.

“It works,” said Song Lan’s talisman, a resounding success.

“I’m glad,” Wei Wuxian replied. “It appears to be useless in the dark given the color, and I think I might be able to change that, but...”

But Lan Qiren was already approaching.

He only glanced at the floating word before turning to Wei Wuxian dismissively. Apparently, there were only so many of Wei Wuxian’s antics that he could put up with on a given day.

“I spoke to the villagers and instructed them on how to proceed with their situation.”

Their situation. The miasma in Yi City was so bad that nobody should continue living there, but where else could the people go? Theirwhole lives and craft were here. The best they could hope for was that this place would eventually be cleansed of resentment.

“Have you come to a decision regarding travel arrangements?” Lan Qiren asked. “A-Qing, if you so desire, Gusu Lan will host you and see that you are cared for.”

A-Qing looked startled. “You weren’t joking earlier?”

“Does he look like he tells jokes?” Wei Wuxian asked, earning himself Lan Qiren’s ire.

The skeptical look he got in return spoke more than a thousand words.

“I appreciate your offer, xiansheng,” A-Qing said. “But my place is elsewhere.”

She looked at Song Lan who nodded before allowing the talisman to speak for him. “I’ll be glad if you accompany me and Xiao Xingchen. I intend to stay here a little while longer, see what I can do for the village.”

Wei Wuxian repeated the words for her and a-Qing grinned. The first proper smile after such a long and harrowing day, perhaps even longer for her.

“We should head back to the other village then,” Lan Qiren said. “Inform them of what has transpired and reassure them that they have nothing to fear from you.”

Wei Wuxian had always cared least about this part of a nighthunt, the clean-up after. He had enjoyed tracking down monsters and spirits, figuring out what kept them here and how to vanquish them. He hadn’t enjoyed talking to those left behind, the perfect picture of a bored teenage genius. Now, he could appreciate the job. It wasn’t in any way easier than fighting, but perhaps it was less dangerous.