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A young lady walked through the forest of Dafan Mountain, a wooden Guqin wrapped tightly on her back, and the donkey she’d acquired earlier from the Mo Household walking at a steady pace due to the apple she had gifted it. The healed over cuts of Mo Xuanyu’s body made themselves known as her legs moved to walk, stained blood she tried to wash off sticking still to her body like an extra layer of skin while a faint ache spread everywhere.
Lan Wangji had finally awoken after more than a decade of death.
Currently, they were deep into the reaches of the forest, the sky pitch black as they were guided solely by a dirt path with clear indents of horseshoes and boots made recently. In the very distance, if she looked down the hillside at a certain angle, she could see the faint glow of the village down at the base of the mountain that the dancing girl and rogue cultivators were in.
She stopped.
Lan Wangji walked off the main path and hid behind a few trees, pulling the donkey with her by its lead. Soon a group of people ran past with their torches and compasses guiding them, stopping a small distance away, yet still close enough that Lan Wangji could see their cultivator robes, swords, and tools on full display.
How strange was it to now see the cultivation world from an outsider's perspective?
The leader raised his arm, pointing to the front, “Keep moving! I swear the beast has to be somewhere out here!”
Another cultivator scoffed loudly, out of breath as he grasped his knee, “Does it matter even if we find it! You know that Sect Leader Jiang and his group are in this area! They’ll strike us if we even breathe near their party!”
“I—Well, we can’t give up yet! Just keep moving!”
Another man groaned, rubbing his arms as if shivering from an awful memory, “I swear if I get whipped again by that cursed whip—”
“Silence! As long as we stay together, none of us will get hurt!”
“You only say that because you don’t have that blasted witch’s ire on you!”
A female cultivator smacked the back of the one who spoke, “You should just learn to keep your mouth shut and not constantly spread rumours in those dingy taverns of yours! No wonder Madam Jiang wants your head, I should go ahead and offer you up for our safety!”
An eruption of arguments spread throughout the group, but the leader shut them all up before leading them off into the distance out of Lan Wangji’s sight. She waited longer, her ear carefully listening for even the snap of a twig in the distance. Deciding the coast was now clear, she walked out from her hiding place. Dafan Mountain was being swarmed with groups of cultivators from everywhere, from rogue cultivators with nothing to their name but a wagon and a sword to major sects parading around like mini emperors with nothing better but to show off their wealth.
Lan Wangji sighed.
‘Jiang Wanyin is here with his sect, and he’s somehow managed to get a wife as well it seems. One with his reputation and temper.’
The matchmakers must’ve prayed for months on such a befitting match. The attitude of the then Jiang Heir now Sect Leader was one known through all the lands. It was the very reason some prayed that W̸͎͊ȩ̶̅i̵͈̓ ̸̼̉Y̸͉̏i̶͖̐ǹ̴͓g̵̪̍ could change his personality.Last she had seen that man, he’d been yelling at her, cursing her name like the others around them. She believes she had done the same, though thinking back only brought a blur of colours and voices, ones that she couldn’t even decipher were real or fake.
‘Wait, is she here? Please tell me I didn’t—’
If Lan Wangji was going to keep being interrupted like this, then she’d have to accept taking two incense sticks to even exit this forest. Deciding the main path was far too dangerous, she held onto the donkey by its lead and moved deeper into the forest. The trek down the hillside and through the bushes would’ve been a breeze for her in the past, but Mo Xuanyu’s body was still suffering from the effects of starvation and neglect, meaning even trying to take a few steps meant having to cling onto the donkey’s side like a drunkard. It was… humbling to say the least for the former noble cultivator. Eventually the steep slope shifted into flat terrain and Lan Wangji was able to walk comfortably again. The donkey neighed and whined about something again, but Lan Wangji only patted it on the head.
“We must keep moving,” Lan Wangji whispered to the donkey as she attempted to get it to move again, but the animal resisted like a rebellious child. Lan Wangji sighed. Fate was not on her side today. She was prepared to pull on the donkey’s lead once more when she heard it.
“—someone! Please help us!”
“Help us! We’re going to get eaten!”
“We’re trapped!”
Lan Wangji turned in the direction of the yelling, her body moving before she even realised it into a sprint as she ran towards the noise. The strain in her muscles caused her to run with even more pain than before, but the ever imprinted code of her life to help others overpowered her body’s protests. There was a beast on this mountain taking the souls of civilians, so strong it somehow managed to defy the detection of even their her invention, the Compass of Ill Winds. No one would be making unnecessary noise like that unless they were in danger. Moving swiftly as she dragged the donkey with her, Lan Wangji eventually reached a small clearing. Dangling in the air, there were people trapped in nets—the ones that cost the equivalent of a palace just for one. Below them was a young boy in golden robes with a distinctive vermillion mark between his currently furrowed eyebrows.
‘A Jin.’
Lan Wangji slowed down, careful not to make noise or be detected as she hid behind a tree, placing her hand on the donkey’s mouth.
“Please Gongzi, let us down once more!” A young woman pleaded as she desperately clawed at the net.
A man nodded, “Yes, yes! Let us down, we’ll leave the mountain immediately this time!”
“Yes! We only got caught in your nets again by accident!”
Even more muffled voices were also heard trapped in the net as a pile of limbs were seen desperately trying to get out of the net. Below the nets with an irritated demeanor was the Jin disciple, his sword resting at his side while he carried a bow and arrows on his back. The boy scoffed, rolling his eyes as he glared at the group of people.
“How did you even—I placed how many warning signs all around this forest that even a baby could recognise!” The boy seemed more exasperated at the sight of so many of his nets being falsely triggered. “Are you blind or something to get caught twice?!”
“It was dark Gongzi! We didn’t see any signs!” The woman from before yelled out once more.
“What signs?! All we saw were yellow ribbons on the branches! We thought those were connected to the beast!”
“I—” The Jin disciple stared up at the people with a stunned expression. “You don’t recognise an obvious Jin land claim for a hunt?!”
The people trapped in the net were all silent, as if waiting for the boy to laugh and say he was joking. He did not laugh.
“We… Gongzi, you do realise we are humble rogues…? We do not know the ways of the main sects.”
The Jin disciple did not respond.
“I…”
He shut his mouth, lowering his head to obscure his face. From where Lan Wangji hid between the trees, she swore she could see his tiny fists trembling and a subtle reddish hue colouring him.
“I am leaving. I’ll bring you all down when I hunt down the beast.”
“GONGZI! WAIT!”
The Jin Disciple did not look back once as he walked away, his pace far too fast to be considered calm. The loud yelling of the people in the net became quieter and quieter as they realised the Jin Disciple would not be returning, their hopes fading away. Silence returned to the small clearing. It was now that Lan Wangji decided to walk out, entering the clearing and looking up at the net of people. They stared at her with renewed hope, all clamouring and yelling and begging for her to release them.
“Guniang! Guniang! Please help us down!”
“Please do! We’ll offer you everything on our backs!”
Lan Wangji nodded and looked around the clearing. All she had on her were the clothes on her own back, the wooden guqin, and a bag of old talisman and coins she managed to get during her short time at the Mo Household. In terms of anything with cutting power, she had nothing that could slice high-quality Immortal-Binding nets.
‘What can I do? Should I use the Chord— No. Never again.’
Lan Wangji’s silence unnerved the people trapped in the net, her pale and frail appearance accompanying her silent demeanor making the people fear that this was secretly the beast everyone was hunting down, when she suddenly stared at the ground intently and picked up a rock.
The woman trapped in the net stared confused, “Guniang, what are you—”
She was cut off as a rock flew right past her head in the net, narrowly missing it by an inch.
“AHHHHHHH—”
Lan Wangji frowned and shook her head.
“Apologies, please there is no need to—”
“SOMEONE HELP US! THE BEAST IS HERE! THE BEAST IS TRYING TO KILL US!”
“PLEASE! I HAVE A FAMILY!”
“WE ARE YOUR FAMILY!”
“SHUT UP!”
Lan Wangji frowned again.
“I tried to cut the rope, please understan—”
“AHHHH! I DON’T WANT TO DIE!”
“IT’S BEEN A TERRIBLE LIFE! I CAN’T DIE YET!”
“...”
“AHHH—”
Suddenly the group went silent.
“...”
“...”
“...”
The group all grabbed their faces, trying to pry open their lips, but they were glued perfectly shut with not a single gap to let out even a slither of air.
‘Di—Did we get cursed?!’ The group thought simultaneously.
They started to struggle even more in the net, kicking and squirming and punching the air—all while perfectly silent. Meanwhile, Lan Wangji's fingers tensed up and stiffened as she felt the vague, and very very weak hum of a golden core in her lower dantian (It didn’t matter it was weak, it was there she felt it, it was real again).
How long had it been since she’d been able to do that? She raised her hand and stared at it, clenching her fist. She was alive once more, blood and oxygen flowing through her body again as the familiar hum quietly echoed from deep in her body—a sound she had long since forgotten a lifetime ago.
A twig snapped in the distance, and Lan Wangji moved her head quick enough to dodge an arrow.
“YOU!” Lan Wangji watched as the Jin disciple from before was running back with his bow drawn and another arrow being nocked. “How dare you show your face here!”
She moved quickly, dodging a barrage of arrows without a moment of pause. Even after the boy’s quiver was emptied of arrows, the boy ran to an already shot arrow and renocked it onto his bow, not caring if the arrow’s head were dull or not—he simply wanted to shoot.
“You disgusting lunatic, of course you had to show up here!” The boy pulled out his sword from his sheath. “Did you want to see my Jiuma after everything?! Have you any shame left in that empty head of yours?!”
‘What the…’ Lan Wangji silently thought. ‘What could Mo Xuanyu have possibly done…?’
This Jiuma of this Jin boy clearly mattered deeply to him, and Mo Xuanyu seemingly had disrespected somehow. The few pages of Mo Xuanyu’s diaries that were coherent and weren’t mindless ramblings about the sacrificial ritual only mentioned a nice Madam who gave her meat-buns long ago. Mo Xuanyu didn’t like the Madam’s husband and regularly wrote insults about his personality, but that was it. No names, no insults about the Madam herself, or any crimes committed that could cause a grudge. There weren't any clear indications that there was anything going on at all.
Lan Wangji was busy dodging when she realised she had cornered herself into a tree. She leapt to the side to avoid the harsh swing of a sword.
‘This disciple is so young and yet already so confident in his swings… If this body was truly Mo Xuanyu, this disciple would’ve surely won.’
However, the person this disciple was dealing with was Lan Wangji. She lifted her hand in the air, catching a leaf that fell from a tree branch the Jin boy hit, and harnessed a ghost that weighed a mountain into it before she slammed it into the Jin disciple’s back. The boy crashed to the ground with little grace, sword falling a short distance from him. He tried to push himself up, but he fell back to the ground with an even louder thud.
“Ugh—Wha—” The boy forced out. “—What did you do to me?!”
Lan Wangji didn’t reply as she moved past the disarmed boy, kneeling shortly to pick up the boy’s fallen sword.
“Wait—What are you trying—”
The nets above were promptly sliced, bits of rope and string falling to the ground like snow. She lowered the sword after slashing so fast the Jin boy blinked wondering when ‘Mo Xuanyu’ had moved. The people captive fell to the ground, looking around in shock. Before a moment could pass, they scrambled to their feet and ran off into the distance, dragging and pulling each other to make sure no one was left behind. The Jin boy watched as the people dashed away, leaving a trail of dust in their midst. His eyebrows furrowed viciously and it almost seemed to Lan Wangji the Jin boy was feeling anger at being abandoned like this by the people he had accidentally trapped. Seeing the people were now safe, Lan Wangji turned around to face the Jin boy stuck on the ground, the leaf that weighed like a mountain stuck to his golden robes still.
“You! H—How dare you!” The Jin boy forced his voice out again and even louder than before, an astounding feat. He glared at Lan Wangji’s hand where his sword was now resting. “Let go of that! You—You have no right to touch it!”
Lan Wangji stared at the anger on the boy’s face that had an undertone of desperation.
She remembered a gift her own mother had given her, a small toy bunny made just for her. Her mother had never stitched before—and even if she did, it had been many years since then for her skills to still be pristine—but the loose left-eye for the eye, the floppy ear which hung like a flag on a windless day, and the mismatched patches of light greys and blues made it all the more easier for Lan Wangji to love it and hug it tightly. She remembers the pain of it being torn away from her after her mother’s death, the elders talking to her about discarding things related to the painful material world for true inner serenity. Lan Wangji didn’t care. She wanted it back more than anything.
He had been better than her somehow—he still had Shufu while she had been expected to maintain propriety and not venture to the male section of Cloud Recesses too much. Lan Wangji had only known a time of peace with her mother and the others in the female section of the GusuLan. While Shufu had never tried to ignore her and had always cared for her, there was still a tall, towering wall that only her mother could climb.
That wall had grown vines and weeds poking out from the cracks as it slowly deteriorated. Until… she—
Lan Wangji stared into the Jin boy’s eyes.
“Here.” She bent down and gently placed the sword into the boy’s hands, taking a few steps back before recalling the leaf back into her hands, releasing the boy.
The boy gripped onto his sword as he forced himself up, putting distance between him and the crazy woman as he examined his sword for any foul play. When he saw nothing was wrong, he glared at her.
“Lunatic…”
Lan Wangji suddenly understood the urge to roll one’s eyes. She was grateful to have the rule of silence back at the Cloud Recesses when she still called it home.
After waking up in Mo Xuanyu’s body after thirteen straight years of being stuck in the void of limbo, she didn’t expect herself to run into a group of disciples from her former Sect, and expected even less to see her own brother former Sect Leader, Zewu-Jun come to their rescue after a stray fierce corpse’s body killed all of the Mo Family. She had run off before Zewu-Jun could find her, run off before her heart’s thundering yells overpowered her common sense, run off before a disciple tattled on her about her use of the Ghostly path.
The Ghostly path.
Lan Wangji looked at the wooden Guqin Mo Xuanyu likely stole from some scholar before summoning her.
It had stood out from all the broken and moldy items in Mo Xuanyu’s old hut, the poor girl barely even having a mat to sleep on. Despite the girl’s clear lack of expertise in these types of rituals—not even leaving behind a note of what she wished Lan Wangji to do for her—the girl seemed to have known enough about Lan Wangji’s days as the Yiling Matriarch to leave behind a Guqin for her to use. While not anything grand compared to her old Guqin, Wangji, it was good enough quality for her to use.
She strum her fingers across the strings, a soft melodic hum radiating off them. She wondered if she could still play that song. She wondered if she should even.
“Hey you! Are you even listening to me, you old hag! Just because you can’t think right doesn’t mean you can’t hear right!”
Was he talking this whole time?
Taken out of her thoughts, Lan Wangji had to suppress her annoyed expression at the Jin boy, this body more expressive than her former one. The Jin boy knew this body, pieces of info from what the Mo Family said and his clear dislike for this body all acting as signs that this body was a former Jin disciple—a bastard child of Sect Leader Jin Guangshan of course—who had been kicked out after committing some unforgivable act.
Lan Wangji started to walk off.
“Wait! You can’t just leave!” The Jin boy was heard sputtering. “How dare you—Why I’ll show you!”
She took a step to the side, avoiding the boy who tried to grab her. The boy nearly fell to the ground before turning on his heels and swinging his sword wildly, almost cutting a stand of her hair. Lan Wangji dodged every time, irritation boiling at the boy’s attack before she moved swiftly behind the boy and kicked him at the back of the knees.
A cheap move she had been forced to accept as a way to secure a quicker end to a fight during the war. The Jin boy crashed to the ground again.
“Ugh!” He yelled out. “Just you wait! When my Jiujiu and Jiuma get here—”
Lan Wangji’s eyebrows furrowed, “Don’t rely on your relatives for everything.” The words left her mouth before she could even process them herself. The Jin boy’s own mouth was still wide open, a yell interrupted by clear confusion. She shook her head.
“Be independent and stand tall like a tree with its own roots, do not depend on your parents for they will not always be here.” The words exited her mouth like a recital, practice overriding any thought she had. “Pay mind and respect to elders and do not push your responsibilities onto them.”
The Jin boy’s eyes narrowed even more than before widening with fierce fury, face pale white and teeth bared out like a hound.
“Y—You! You have no right to talk to me like that!”
Lan Wangji was taken aback at such an aggressive pushback. She knew other sects thought differently than her own natal Sect, that was what caused so much of her issues, but she didn’t realise that such a simple lesson would cause such an outrage.
The Jin boy’s eyes were wide, now suddenly wet at the edges.
“I—” The boy took a deep breath. “Shut up! I already know all of that!”
Lan Wangji looked closer and saw tears prickling the corners of the boy’s eyes. Clearly this matter meant more to him than just simply him getting scolded by a disgraced relative. She lowered herself slowly, words stranded on her tongue as she thought on what to say. Would an apology suffice? Should she try to comfort him? Could she even?
Instead, she decided to ask a question.
“How… How did I offend your Jiuma?”
The Jin boy’s tears stopped, instead being replaced with a dark shadow upon his face that reminded Lan Wangji too much of another person too much. A person her mind did not like being reminded of.
“You… You really did go mad…” He clenched his fists and pointed accusingly at her. “You sick pervert! My Jiuma only ever wished to try and be friendly, yet you took advantage of her generosity to be a shameless harasser!”
The Jin boy’s face was becoming as red as the vermillion mark on his forehead, “Everyone knows my Jiujiu and Jiuma are perfectly in love with each other, and you decided to disrespect them both with your antics!”
The accusations, despite not belonging to Lan Wangji herself, still struck like arrows piercing themselves into her flesh. The idea that Mo Xuanyu only got away with a light punishment such as exilement made her wonder if the story was deeper, but from what the Jin boy was saying, this was how it appeared to them all. Her words escaped her once more without her permission.
“Please forgive me, I… do not have my mind in a clear state. Who is your Jiuma again?”
“That would be me.”
Lan Wangji froze.
That voice—It couldn’t be.
She turned, heart beating like a defiant child that wouldn’t listen to her warnings.
Marching towards them with a pack of Jiang disciples following was a woman with long black hair cascading down her shoulders, beautiful face painted like a porcelain doll with red underlining her eyes, and long royal-purple robes detailed with silver and gold lotuses.
She stared directly at Lan Wangji, a bright smile on her face that contrasted her narrowed eyes.
“A-Ling, get behind me.”
Lan Wangji’s eyes widened as she heard that name. The Jin boy seemed more upset at the woman’s overprotective tone.
“Jiuma, I can take care of her—”
“A-Ling,” the woman said with a tone of finality. “Get behind me.”
A Jin boy referred to as Gongzi. Why didn’t she realise it sooner? How had she grown this foolish?
Jin Ling frowned, but listened to the woman—that was his Jiuma, she was his Jiuma, did that mean what she thought it meant—and ran behind her, peeking his head to glare at her. Lan Wangji felt like her heart was going to explode from the inside. The other woman, however, was not privy to Lan Wangji’s inner mental battle and continued to give the same fake, artificial smile she always gave to others. It was never aimed at her before, yet now she was its sole victim.
“Hello Mo Xuanyu, long time no see. I heard your… comments about A-Ling here and simply wanted to have a little chat with you.” Her voice was light like a song carried through the winds by birds, as beautiful as Lan Wangji’s memories reminded her. It also carried with it barely hidden anger. Anger aimed at Lan Wangji. Anger that came from her.
The earth beneath Lan Wangji threatened to sink and take her whole.
“What?” She said, eyebrow raising. “No more of those smart comments left to say now that someone bigger than you arrived?”
Lan Wangji gulped as she shook her head, guilt and disgust at herself drowning her until she couldn’t force the words to leave her mouth. She mentioned Jin Ling’s father. She mentioned Jin Ling’s mother. She mentioned her Shijie. After everything she had done to their family, how could she dare?
Hearing no response from her, the woman in purple robes that seemed too high-quality to belong to even a well-liked head disciple scoffed, rolling her eyes like a certain Sect Leader. The former soft, rounded edges had been sharpened and all that remained was a woman who stood like a predator about to pounce.
“You’re mighty confident now. Going after my nephew’s father and mother, after my Shijie?” Her tone was becoming more aggressive by the second. She had always been protective over those who she cared about, willing to fight the entire cultivation world to protect those she loved. A mere stranger like Mo Xuanyu insulting her beloved nephew was nothing.
The Jiang disciples all stared intently at Lan Wangji, a few even walking to the sides to prepare for if she tried to make a run for it. Each of the disciples had swords ready on hand, calculating gazes making the group of disciples look like a pack of wolves surrounding the bunny they had all hunted down. Trained. They were well trained. Of course they were. They had her training and guidance—even back then, many knew deep down that former Sect Leader, Jiang Fengmian’s decision of Head Disciple was a just one and not one made purely out of bias despite the many rumours.
Lan Wangji was silent. If she wasn’t careful, she could very well be attacked right now.
Realising ‘Mo Xuanyu’ wasn’t going to reply back to her, the woman gestured to the disciples behind her, ordering them to stand in front of her. They followed without a second thought, instantly standing between the woman and Lan Wangji like a barricade.
Separated once again.
The woman turned to Jin Ling, facing the back of her head to Lan Wangji where the thing she dreaded to see the most was proudly displayed in her hair bun.
There was Wei Ying, the love that haunted her dreams and nightmares, wearing a golden hair pin with lotuses and pearls embedded in it. Lan Wangji knew from all the years she spent learning about the customs of other sects it should only be worn by the Madam of the Jiang Sect.
Wei Ying had married Jiang Wanyin, had become Jiang-Furen, and she was now the Jiuma of Jin Ling.