Chapter Text
Jiang Chang, currently the world’s most reluctant banquet guest, scowled as he watched Jin Zixun drink from a jar of wine, flocked by drunken Jin disciples.
It figured, Jiang Cheng thought bitterly, that the Jins would devote some of the limited time and money meant to go towards essentials—like food or medicine—towards a banquet. It’s not like there were soldiers dying or anything.
Earlier, the leadership of the Sunshot Campaign had met to discuss the final push of the war. They were closing in on Nightless City, the combination of the alliance of the sects, Wei Wuxian’s demonic cultivation, and increasing morale as the Wens continued to retreat bringing the Sunshot Campaign closer to victory. Currently, they were discussing whether an all-out assault on Nightless City was viable. Nie Mingjue suggested a surprise attack by a smaller group. Wei Wuxian gave a vague promise regarding the Yin Tiger Seal. They had not reached a decision, so this banquet felt especially like a waste of time.
In the Jins’ reluctant defense, Jiang Cheng would admit that, despite the fact he could count on one hand the number of times he had seen Jin Guangshan actually present at the front rather than holed up in Lanling, they had provided essential funding and manpower to the Sunshot Campaign. Jin Zixuan had turned out to be surprisingly reliable as well, for a peacock. But did they really need to be having a banquet, so close to the end? Celebration could wait until the threat of the Wens had ended.
At least he wasn’t alone in his annoyance, Jiang Chang thought, looking at Nie Mingjue, who looked like his dearest wish would be to draw Baxia on one of the drunken Jins around him. Lan Xichen, as always, somehow maintained a cordial air of respectability and compassion, like he wasn’t going to drink himself but of course would never judge soldiers taking a well-needed moment of relaxation before a dangerous battle. Lan Wangji was the opposite, projecting an intense air of judgement despite his face being entirely blank.
Drinking slightly from his jar, Jiang Cheng’s eyes flicked over to his right, where Wei Wuxian sat. No surprise there, he thought as he watched Wei Wuxian gladly accept a jar of wine, then another, from a nearby servant. Wei Wuxian was draped over the table, looking exhausted and unkempt, as was usual for him lately. Jiang Cheng scowled as he watched him drink one of his jars of wine in one long, drawn-out swallow.
Of course Wei Wuxian would take this chance to drink. He was drinking so often ever since they had found him in Yiling, Jiang Cheng wondered if he was ever fully sober, out of battle. When did he even need to be, he thought irritably, he didn’t have the survival of an entire clan resting on his shoulders. Of course Wei Wuxian could blow off his responsibilities and drink as Jiang Cheng spent late nights pouring over supply inventories and battle plans. Worry for his brother, lingering at the edges of his mind, was covered by his frustration with Wei Wuxian’s erratic behavior.
Looking at where the Lans sat, Jiang Cheng noticed Lan Wangji’s eyes on Wei Wuxian as well. He rolled his eyes. Whatever was up with the two’s weird obsessions with each other, he did not want to know.
At his right, he saw Wei Wuxian sink further onto the table, his head almost pillowed in his arms, as if asleep. Glaring at his brother, he leaned over and elbowed him. “Wei Wuxian,” he hissed, “sit properly.”
Wei Wuxian didn’t move, looking for all the world as if he was sleeping peacefully at a mid-war banquet. Scowling viciously, Jiang Cheng pinched Wei Wuxian’s side as hard as he could.
Again, Wei Wuxian did not move. Jiang Cheng’s annoyance began to shift into concern, a heavy feeling in his stomach. He leaned in, this time just shaking his shixiong as he said, “Wei Wuxian, if you’re joking, this isn’t funny. Get up right now.” When his brother again did not move, Jiang Cheng reached for his arm, intending to feel his meridians.
That’s weird, he thought somewhat absently, noticing the lack of spiritual power. It had been a while—maybe since before the fall of Lotus Pier—since he had felt his brother’s meridians, but his brother had the largest golden core of anyone he had personally felt before, with the possible exception of his parents. Usually, checking his brother’s meridians was sort of like how it felt to be shocked by Zidan, which Jiang Cheng had done to himself once or twice while learning to use the spiritual tool. Now, he could feel no spiritual energy from his brother, although there was… something cycling through his brother’s body. Was that resentful energy?
He pushed further, still receiving no reaction from Wei Wuxian and by now genuinely alarmed. He vaguely noticed the seats around him had quieted, now focused on him and his brother, but he continued searching Wei Wuxian’s meridians, until he reached his brother’s golden core. Or lack thereof.
His heart twisting in fear, he desperately searched for any hint of a golden core in Wei Wuxian. All that was there was… nothing. Emptiness. A cold, dark void where his brother’s unbelievably strong core should have sat.
He dropped his brother’s arm immediately and turned around until he made eye contact with the only surviving Jiang healer, a middle-aged woman named Zhou Hua.
“Zhou Hua,” he said, his voice coming out terse and alarmed. “Help Wei Wuxian now.”
“Yes, Jiang-zongzhu,” she said, briskly walking to Wei Wuxian and reaching for his wrist, just as Jiang Cheng had done.
By now, they had the attention of the banquet hall, as Jin Zixun called over, only slightly drunkenly, “Is something wrong, Jiang-zongzhu?” Nie Huaisang looked over, fan covering much of his face, as Nie Mingjue set his jar down, now invested in the events around him.
Lan Xichen was also looking worriedly their way, and next to him, Lan Wangji stood up, looking uncharacteristically worried, as much as it is possible for Lan Wangji to be, the corners of his mouth slightly turned down. “Wei Ying?” he called, and Jiang Cheng did not have time to be annoyed with Lan Wangji’s casual address of his brother as he was too worried about Wei Wuxian’s missing core.
Zhou Hua, still checking Wei Wuxian’s meridians, must have realized what Jiang Cheng had, as her eyes widened and she looked to him. “Jiang-zongzhu- Wei-gongzi, his core, it’s-“
“I know,” Jiang Cheng cut in. “Why isn’t he waking up?”
Zhou Hua continues to check over Wei Wuxian’s meridians, looking for something, until she says, “He has been poisoned.”
Jiang Cheng, paling rapidly, starts towards them. From the corner of his eye, he sees Lan Wangji join them, leaning down to where Wei Wuxian is still draped over the table as if simply asleep. “Is it dangerous to Wei Ying to carry him?” he asks Zhou Hua tensely. She shakes her head, still focused on whatever she is finding in Wei Wuxian’s meridians. Lan
Wangji leans down and, to Jiang Cheng’s distant irritation, picks up his shixiong, lifting him into his arms gently.
Jiang Cheng resists rolling his eyes only by virtue of how worried he is about Wei Wuxian. “I will take him to the medical wing,” Lan Wangji bites out as he briskly heads towards the medical hall. Jiang Cheng, ignores Lan Wangji’s possessiveness, urgently follows alongside them, Zhou Hua on their heels. He sees Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue join them, along with a Lan doctor.
Luckily, it is a short distance from the banquet hall to the medical hall, and Lan Wangji soon is placing Wei Wuxian delicately on a bed. As soon as he is laid down, Zhou Hua continues her examination of him, the Lan doctor joining her as the two flit around Wei Wuxian’s motionless body.
“What poison can do that,” Jiang Cheng hisses angrily, “burn out a golden core. How did he even—”
“Burn out a what?” Nie Mingjue interrupts.
Lan Zhan, reaching for Wei Wuxian’s wrist that is not currently being checked by the Lan doctor, quickly finds the emptiness where Wei Wuxian’s core should have been, and his eyes widen. “Wei Ying,” he whispers, looking at Wei Wuxian with the most sorrowful expression he has ever seen on the Second Jade’s usually expressionless face.
“Wangji, his core is gone?” Lan Xichen asks his brother as—are those tears in Lan Wangji’s eyes? Jiang Cheng is immediately angered. Now Lan Wangji cares about his brother, after arguing with him ceaselessly about his demonic cultivation? After ignoring him all the time before?
Jiang Cheng scoffs. “What, the great Hanguang-jun steps down from his lofty perch to weep for my brother, when he had only condemnations for him before? Give me a break.” He turns to Zhou Hua. “How do we cure my brother?”
Zhou Hua, who had been whispering rapidly with the Lan healer, turns to Jiang Cheng. “Jiang-zongzhu, although I am able to identify the poison, I do not know why it seems to have burned out his core, nor the remedy.”
The Lan healer beside her speaks. “We know which poison it is—it comes from a flower found only in the Nightless City, that must be picked at a specific time. It is exceedingly rare, and we do not know the cure. I am afraid that information is likely only known by the Wen.”
Jiang Cheng’s vision goes red. The fucking Wen sect poisoned his brother. They killed his parents, took his home, destroyed his sect, took Jiang Cheng’s own core, and now they’ve poisoned and destroyed the core of his brother. When the ringing in his ears dies down enough to hear the conversation around him, he hears Zhou Hua speaking.
“What I don’t understand is how it burned out a golden core without killing him. The poison turns yang energy corrosive, which should have immediately killed a cultivator of Wei-gongzi’s level. I don’t know how it could burn out his core without killing him.”
Nie Mingjue swears viciously. “So you’re saying the Wen sect are the only ones who have access to this poison, and are the only ones that can cure it.”
When Zhou Hua and the Lan doctor nod in assent, Nie Mingjue turns to Lan Xichen. “That means we likely have a spy in camp.”
Lan Xichen turns to the doctors. “How quickly does the poison work?”
The Lan doctor tells him, “Lan-zongzhu, from what we have record of, the poison works immediately, so likely he was given it very shortly before he fell under its effects.”
Jiang Cheng thought back, but all Wei Wuxian had eaten or drank before he noticed him passing out was— “The wine,” Jiang Cheng says suddenly. “He was served wine directly by a servant. I didn’t notice any details, but—”
Nie Mingjue turns back to the entrance of the tent where Lan, Jiang, and Nie disciples are gathered, guarding the tent. He turns to a Nie disciple and commands, “Go talk with the servants and find out if anyone knows who served wine to Wei Wuxian tonight, or if anyone is acting strangely or is missing. Go quickly.” The disciple nodded and briskly took off to where the servant’s areas were located.
Lan Wangji, by this point, had regained his composure. Not taking his eyes off Wei Wuxian, he asked, “Why does he remain unconscious?”
The Lan doctor, clearing his throat, said, “I believe it is attacking the yang energy in his body, with none left in his core for it to destroy. It is affecting him as it would a non-cultivator, although usually, it would still be fatal if slightly slower working. My best guess is that the high amount of yin energy in him, which would usually be harmful, is preventing him from dying from to the rapid loss of yang energy.”
Zhou Hua is frowning as she continues, “This is not sustainable. If he does not receive a cure soon, he will die. And I am unsure of how the further imbalance of yin and yang energy in him will affect him even if he was cured right now.”
Nie Mingjue’s arms are crossed as he looks at Wei Wuxian’s pale figure lying unmoving in the bed. “We must find a way to cure this. Wei Wuxian… though his methods may be controversial, we need him for this war. He is indispensable. I am not sure if we can win without the power he provides with his demonic cultivation. Although, I must ask, will he still be able to perform his cultivation with no golden core?”
Lan Xichen replies thoughtfully, “I would think so. After all, our cores circulate yang energy, and demonic cultivation uses only yin. But, more importantly, where can we find a Wen with knowledge of specialized poisons and remedies that is willing to help us?”
Jiang Cheng had been half-listening to their discussion as he stared at Wei Wuxian’s unconscious figure. He knew that Wei Wuxian was less than healthy. Jiang Cheng wasn’t stupid, like Wei Wuxian apparently thought he was, always minimizing the poor state of his health and his strange behavior. But Wei Wuxian had been avoiding him, always holed up somewhere drinking or with his ghosts, if he wasn’t arguing with Lan Wangji or himself. He hadn’t had the chance to really look at Wei Wuxian since he had returned. He was pale, deathly so. Clearly he hadn’t been sleeping, as the skin under his eyes was dark. His cheekbones were more prominent than they had been before, to an alarming degree, now that Jiang Cheng looked. Hadn’t he gotten any better, since he left wherever he had been those three months? Hadn’t he been eating and sleeping more? Would he ever tell Jiang Cheng where he had been, what had happened to him?
Lan Xichen’s question catches his attention, though, as Jiang Cheng realizes, “Wen Qing.”
Nie Mingjue looks his way scornfully. “Wen Rouhan’s niece?”
Jiang Cheng nods, gaining energy as he thinks more about it. “Wen Qing has already helped us, after the- after Lotus Pier. She and her brother helped hide us, and helped me after I—” he stopped, not wanting to go into detail about his formerly lost and restored core. Although now that he considered it—could Baoshan Sanren help Wei Wuxian get his core back?
“Anyways,” he continues, “she had already helped us, and is already aligned against the Wen Clan. She was imprisoned by the Wen Clan when we found her. She’s an expert in Wen medicine, she will know of the poison. We must find Wen Qing.”
Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue share a look, but before either of them speaks, Lan Wangji says, “I will help. Where is she?”
Jiang Cheng is momentarily surprised at Lan Wangji’s quick agreement, but, remembering their three months of searching for Wei Wuxian, takes the help where he can get it. “I last saw her in the dungeons Wen Chao left her in, months ago. I offered— it doesn’t matter, but I don’t know where she is now.”
Nie Mingjue says, “Lanling Jin is currently responsible for captured Wens. Was she taken?”
Needing something to do, Jiang Cheng headed towards the exit of the tent, where he addressed the Jiang disciples waiting anxiously.
“How is Da-shixiong?” one of the few survivors of the massacre at Lotus Pier, a disciple called Chen Ming asks. The disciples around him, most of whom have only known Wei Wuxian during the Sunshot Campaign, are less visibly anxious, but still listening closely.
Rather than answer, Jiang Cheng tells him, “We need to find Wen Qing. I want you to go check through any records of prisoners taken in the past six months, from any sect, and see if her name is listed. Inform me immediately if you find her. Go now. Time is of the essence.”
Chen Ming nods at him, the rest of the disciples around him following suit. “Yes, Jiang-zongzhu.” They bow to him, then turn and depart.
Returning to the tent, Jiang Cheng thinks distantly that he’s being discourteous to Chifeng-zun and Zewu-jun, barely listening to them as he considers the question of where Wen Qing might have ended up. His mother would whip him if she knew he was ignoring two sect leaders to think about Wei Wuxian, he thought, with dry amusement.
Suddenly, he looks up to realize they have been joined by two more people: Nie Huaisang and Jin Zixuan. He barely refrains from scowling, not in the mood to speak to the peacock.
Jin Zixuan, however, has no such compunctions, as he bows slightly to Jiang Cheng. “Jiang-zongzhu. I am here to offer assistance in healing Wei Wuxian. He is essential to the Sunshot Campaign’s success. Anything that the Jin Clan can do to help, we will.”
Nie Huaisang interrupts, leaning forward slightly to stare at Wei Wuxian. “Wei-xiong…” shaking his head, he looks at the three gathered sect leaders and Lan Wangji, no trace of a smile on his face. “I will admit, I was eavesdropping.” Seeing Nie Mingjue’s scowl, he exclaims, “How could I not! Wei-xiong is my friend. Anyways, if it’s Wen Qing you need to find, I think I can help.”
Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji both immediately give Nie Huaisang their full attention. He takes a small step back, his eyes widening and his fan coming up to cover his face. “No need for such scary reactions!”
“Where is she,” Lan Wangji interrupts, impatient. Jiang Cheng, for once, agrees.
“Well.. a little while ago I was at this tea shop—it’s relevant, Da-ge, I promise! I was at this tea shop in Lanling when I was there meeting about coordinating supply lines, and I overheard these two women talking about how their friend’s kid had been miraculously cured of a lifetime ailment, so I was curious and did some digging, and it turns out the friend had let a woman she described as “beautiful, in kind of a scary way” spend a night in their house after she diagnosed her son’s sickness.” Nie Huaisang says in one breath.
“Are you saying that was Wen Qing?” Jiang Cheng interrupted. “Why is she in Lanling?”
“I’m getting to that, Jiang-xiong,” Nie Huaisang huffs. “The Dafan Wen, Wen Qing’s family-“
“Dafan Wen?” interjects Jin Zixuan. “I’m fairly certain we currently have responsibility over the Dafan Wen, alongside other Wens that have been captured.”
“I know!” said Nie Huaisang, visibly resisting the urge to stamp his foot. “I was saying that I have heard multiple rumors of a woman matching Wen Qing’s description around Lanling exchanging healing for food or shelter, asking around about Jin prison camps. She’s likely in Lanling somewhere, as close to Koi Tower as she can get without endangering herself.”
Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji made eye contact, united in their desire to find Wen Qing as quickly as possible. He nods and turns to the rest of the room. “Chifeng-zun, Zewu-Jun, I will go to Lanling to find Wen Qing and bring her back. I ask that you watch over Wei Wuxian while I am gone.” He bows, waiting for a response.
“Of course, Jiang-zongzhu,” Lan Xichen replied. “Wangji, I assume you will go as well.”
Lan Wangji nods, bows to his brother and Nie Mingjue, and walks out, obviously intending to immediately fly to Lanling. Not wanting to fall behind, Jiang Cheng also bows quickly to those left in the tent, then leaves, stepping on his sword and quickly taking off.
He catches up to Lan Wangji surprisingly quickly. Although he was not far ahead, Jiang Cheng would not have expected the Second Jade to be close enough to his speed that he would even be able to catch up to him, annoying as it was. Maybe he slowed down to wait for him? If he did, it would be both uncharacteristic of Lan Wangji and stupid, to delay Wei Wuxian’s healing to wait around for Jiang Cheng.
The two fly to Lanling as fast as they can, Jiang Cheng keeping up with the Second Jade surprisingly easily He thinks, on the way, of his sister, who is somewhere in Lanling right now, unaware of Wei Wuxian’s poisoning or loss of his golden core. He didn’t have time to get her, or he would return with her, as he knew she would want to help Wei Wuxian if he was sick. But she would see Wei Wuxian again, he reasoned, because they would find Wen Qing and she would know how to fix his brother and his missing core. Then she could fret over how stupid it was for Wei Wuxian to be poisoned in his wine, of all things.
The distance, while not short, was not long enough to exhaust the two, and took only a few hours. By the time they reached Lanling it was fully dark. They landed near one of the busiest streets in the city, not far from Koi Tower. Because it was Lanling, the least affected province of all the cultivation clans by the war, and already the sort of place with a lot of nighttime activity, the street was still active and relatively crowded.
Their arrival attracted a great deal of attention. Two powerful cultivators, arriving on swords at high speeds, looking urgently around? And, Jiang Cheng hated to admit it, Wei Wuxian had a point about Lan Wangji—he did (obnoxiously) attract a certain type of attention.
Jiang Cheng wasn’t quite sure how to begin, but luckily, Lan Wangji had no such compunctions. In a calm, clear voice, he spoke more loudly than Jiang Chang had ever heard from him. “Has anyone here,” he asked, “seen a woman named Wen Qing?”
For a moment, Jiang Cheng was awed by the total lack of subtlety of this method. Word would definitely get back to Lanling, that Jiang Cheng was searching for a Wen. The Wen Clan would know that they had Wen Qing, if they were able to find her. It was more likely that more people would learn that Wei Wuxian and his demonic cultivation were down for the count, for now.
But, Jiang Cheng reasoned, this really was the most expedient method. After the scene at the banquet, people already knew that Wei Wuxian had been incapacitated. They could provide reasonable justification for looking for Wen Qing and even potentially allying with her, as the Jiang clan would owe her a debt, as the only one who could save his brother.
Knowing this, he said to the crowd, “We’re looking for a Wen woman, very beautiful, very intelligent and well-spoken, who is an expert in medicine and might have traded medical knowledge or healing for food, shelter, or information. We will reward any information that leads to us finding her.”
“I know her! Gongzis, I can help—”
“Honored cultivators, I can direct you to her, I saw her just a few days ago, why, she was just helping out my father with his bad knee—”
“Try the lady who works at the clinic a street over, I can show you, I—”
Maybe offering a reward was a bad idea, Jiang Cheng thought, as members of the crowd started shouting at him. He hoped that it would incentivize them to help more quickly, but it might have just agitated them.
However, one woman looked around scornfully. “You are all so willing to give up a woman who has helped you, asking for nothing but a night under your roof or a bite to eat? Shameful.”
Lan Wangji, also sensing that this woman had likely actually met Wen Qing by how staunchly against selling her out she was, approached her. The crowd around them parted but continued to yell unhelpfully at them. Glaring at them, Zidan sparking on his hand, Jiang Cheng waits for them to back off, then follows, where he hears Lan Wangji ask the woman,
“Have you met with her recently?”
“What’s it to you?” she asks scornfully. “I’m not going to sell out someone who saves lives. Who helps people. You’ll get nothing from me.”
Lan Wangji, looking at her sincerely, tells her, “We aren’t trying to hurt her. We need her help.”
Jiang Cheng, joining in, says, “My brother is sick. We think Wen Qing is the only one who can help us. She knows of medicine that no one else does, that can cure him.”
The woman still looks suspicious. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”
Jiang Cheng, reluctantly but necessarily, brings out their trump card. “This is Hanguang-jun. He doesn’t lie.”
Jiang Cheng is too relieved to be annoyed when this works, the woman looking at Lan Wangji in awe. Lan Wangji, the asshole, takes it in stride, simply saying, “Any assistance you can give us in finding Wen Qing would be welcome.”
Guided by the light of the lanterns hung along the street, she leads them several streets over to a small, ramshackle house, then knocks on the door. A short woman answers the door, and, seeing the woman, starts, “Oh, Xiaofang, thank you so much for sending Wen-guniang, A-Xiao is doing much better… who’s this?”
Finally noticing Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng, the woman leans back from her doorway, looking anxious. Lan Wangji bows, telling her, “Madam, we are looking for Wen Qing. It is urgent.”
Before the woman can shut the door, the woman who brought them says quickly, “Yuxi, this is Hanguang-jun and—" realizing she doesn’t know Jiang Cheng’s identity, she stops.
“Jiang-zongzhu,” he interjects. “We need her help. To heal someone.”
She looks back in her house fretfully. “I don’t know…”
Before Jiang Cheng has a chance to reply, though, another woman joins her, coming from inside the house to stand next to her. Although her clothes are less fine than the last time he had seen her, her hair less well cared-for, her cheekbones more pronounced, the woman is unmistakably Wen Qing.
“Jiang-zongzhu. Hanguang-jun,” she bows to them slightly, never breaking eye contact. “What do you need from me?”