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Xue Yang had been watching this band of cultivators since they arrived in Yi City. At this point, he knew this city like the back of his hand. The fog only threw off visitors, but to him it was as comfortable as the shadows he's spent so long lurking in. The brats were easy enough to toy around with, but with the arrival of the two others, its complicated things. A lot.
There was a moment where he felt his breath catch, which says a lot. Xue Yang often took pride in rarely being surprised by things, but seeing the man in black robes affected him far more than he would ever admit.
He tracked the man wearing black, watched the way he maneuvered around the corpses, how he herded the little juniors into safety, how he used ghost cultivation to send the paper effigies out to stop the corpses.
Wrong. Wrong wrong wrong, it was all wrong.
His teeth cracked through the hard candy in his mouth, but the sweetness of the candy went to waste entirely, replaced with the bitterness that flowed through him.
That person, was not his Mo Xuanyu.
So something was wrong, and he'd be damned if he just sat back and let it happen. The last few years had been a mix of fine and terrible. Getting tossed out of Jinlintai was less than ideal. He truly didn't want to abandon Mo Xuanyu there, but what other choice did he have? Jin Guangyao had left him barely breathing and his body took its sweet time to heal. By then, he was too blinded by the temptation of revenge, Xiao Xingchen had basically offered himself to Xue Yang to toy with.
Besides, what was one man supposed to do against the Jin Clan?
Since he had to leave, his life had been hollow. Everyday he longed for Mo Xuanyu. The last couple of years at least served as a distraction of him. But he even ruined that, too, in the end.
He held the soul holding pouch gently, making sure that it was secure before he put the ribbon around his eyes to look the part he was ready to play. He effortlessly fought against the corpses, but let the power still infect him, mixing with the dose he took earlier. The bitter sweet taste lingering on his tongue as he slowly let the corpses overpower him. As expected, he was soon carried into the run down house by the paper effigies.
Xue Yang put on the act of his life, replaying all of Xiao Xingchen's mannerisms with ease. Even choking down that god awful bowl of congee and what felt like it contained every last chili pepper in the world. Every word that came out of this 'Mo-gongzi' was wrong. His smile was off, the way he spoke, even his posture was wrong. It wasn't like him at all, and all it served was to piss off Xue Yang. He had an inkling of what had happened, but he would need more confirmation.
Besides, if he was still using Mo Xuanyu's name, then it likely meant that the brats present were supposed to know who he is. Fine, whatever. He could play along.
He let it all play out, listening with eager ears as the little Lan played inquiry for Song Lang, silently sitting up and placing his elbow on his knee to prop up his head. A smug smirk on his lips as it the last question was given it's response.
"The one behind you." The little Lan spoke out clearly and the panic was clear. Xue Yang drank it up like a man dying of thirst.
Now that he sat across from who he was now certain was Wei Wuxian, Xue Yang was trying to quickly process many things.
For starters, the soul summoning ritual. He obviously remembered it, he knew that it did. He resisted the urge to ask Wei Wuxian about it, if Mo Xuanyu was really gone, what their deal was. Desperately, he wanted to know if Mo Xuanyu said anything about him before he was wiped clean from this realm and the next. It was selfish, but well, Xue Yang never once in his life denied that part of himself. He wanted to know, but it didn't matter what Mo Xuanyu had felt for him, if he still felt that way in the end. He was also well aware that Mo Xuanyu thought he was dead, and whats the point in bringing up some dead guy when you yourself are about to die?
From his beloved's perspective, Xue Yang had left him to face the world and dangers of Jinlintai by himself. He should have gone back. Maybe if he had, Mo Xuanyu wouldn't have felt the need to disperse his soul from the world and the reincarnation cycle. Maybe if Xue Yang had been able to go back, they would have found some sort of peace in this sick world. He would have burned it all the ashes for Mo Xuanyu to be happy.
But these 'what ifs' were pointless. Mo Xuanyu was dead, and there was no way to bring him back. This thought alone was enough to fill him with anger and make his blood boil. Anger was easier to comprehend, it was grounding and energized him. If he didn't have anger and hate, then he would be left with grief and heartache.
If he started feeling that, he would drown in it for the rest of his life.
Xue Yang presented the soul containing pouch to Wei Wuxian, asking him to repair it. He wanted him to repair it, to do what he couldn't do himself. A second thought had occurred to him, that if Wei Wuxian could do the impossible, then he can do it again and bring back Mo Xuanyu's soul. Even just to bring it back from its dispersed state and allowing him to keep it with him, to keep him close and protect him in the way he couldn't. Xue Yang never begged for anything in his life, but for this, he would consider it.
Regret wasn't something that he felt, he committed to his actions, took the consequences and kept breathing despite the effort of others. He did however, deeply wish he had just gone to Mo Xuanyu before it got to this point.
"I can't fix this." Wei Wuxian let out a heavy sigh and gave him a level look, and Xue Yang's frustration was reaching a new high.
"What do you mean you can't fix this?"
"This soul belonged to someone who lost the will to live. Probably committed suicide."
The image of a sword slicing through a delicate throat, blood gushing and staining white robes flashed in his minds eye. His hands balled into fists within his sleeves. He didn't care if Xiao Xingchen didn't want to live anymore, Xue Yang wasn't done yet. He was supposed to decide when Xiao Xingchen was through. He was supposed to have control over that! He needed to have control over it, over something!
"Try anyways." His patience was fading.
Xue Yang let Wei Wuxian prattle on about how impossible it was for him to do it. If someone like Wei Wuxian could not even do this…then Mo Xuanyu was surely gone for good.
His gazed raked over 'Mo Xuanyu's' body, as he refused to acknowledge that it was Wei Wuxian's now. That was the body that he had kissed, claimed and cherished. That was the body that he had worshiped and knew like the back of his hand, knew how his hands looked wrapped around his wrists and touching his pretty, delicate neck. He knew where Mo Xuanyu was most sensitive and were his freckles were hidden. It was only Xue Yang that knew what Mo Xuanyu looked like with his lips freshly kissed and his body painted with bite marks and bruises.
His stomach turned knowing that he would never see that again.
Xue Yang wanted and craved to reclaim that body the same way he had before, but this was an imposter. Wei Wuxian was just wearing a mask of a stolen face. He didn't want anyone to know Mo Xuanyu's body as intimately as he had. The thought tasted of vinegar and left him bitter.
Mo Xuanyu was supposed to be his and his alone.
But he fucked that up too.
Xue Yang knew pain. Sometimes he greeted it like a friend. Pain meant something; like he was alive, or was able to feel something other than sorrow and grief.
Right now, pain mixed with all of those feelings he had spent his life hiding and locking away like blood in water; thinning it out until it was all one.
Xue Yang was pathetic.
His shoulder stung, which was to be expected since his arm was just cut off at the joint. He wanted to laugh about it all honestly. When he was a child he had been beaten and hurt to a point he spent his life seeking revenge over a finger. Now his whole damn arm was cut off and what was there left to do? He was going to die pathetically and alone, no one would mourn him, no one would miss him…no one would care.
And wasn't that hilarious?
All Xue Yang knew how to do, it seems, was kill and ruin anything remotely good and pure that wandered into his life. He was like a virus that only knew how to twist and corrupt, poison and bring destruction. Would things have been different if he just left to find Mo Xuanyu? Would he have continued to live peacefully with Xiao Xingchen, pretending to be someone he wasn't? Fuck if he knows.
He let out a wet laugh, ignoring the sting in his eyes and the wetness that ran down his cheeks. The sky was cloudy as always, so he could at least pretend it was the rain coming to wash the stain from the world that was Xue Yang.
He looked over at his severed arm and saw the old rotten candy that had fallen out of his grasp. Xue Yang would never admit to enjoying his time with Xiao Xingchen, not even in his dying moments. There was too much to unpack, and he was painfully aware that his time was finally running out; he couldn't run from karma any longer.
Xue Yang was growing cold already, it was amazing how quickly you lost blood when you lose a limb. Of all the limbs he had cut off of his victims, you would think he would have paid more attention to that, though it was different when you were on the receiving end and going delirious with blood loss. His own blood was creating a puddle around him, and even the warmth from that faded too fast. He heard foot steps approaching him, so he turned his head and met light coloured eyes. It was almost too much to look at the face that once gave him so much life in his dying moments. He could pretend, for one second, that this was still Mo Xuanyu looking back at him.
His eyes looked at that beautiful soft face, wanting it to be the last thing he saw. What a tragedy they both were; Mo Xuanyu giving up his soul and next lives, and Xue Yang's soul was certainly rotting in the lowest levels of hell.
In neither this life, nor the next would they be together.
It hurt more than anything else he had felt.
Another wet laugh escaped his lips, bringing with it blood as his vision grew darker. Perhaps it was fitting that Mo Xuanyu's eyes looked at him with such resentment and contempt. He knew he didn't deserve to see those wide eyes that used to be so naive and infatuated with him. Xue Yang cut his losses and could at least accept the gift that was getting to see Mo Xuanyu's face one last time.
The world was fading, and he was vaguely aware of someone lifting him. It didn't matter, he was a goner.
The only thing Xue Yang could think about as his spirit left this world, was how cold hell was going to be without the warmth and promise of Mo Xuanyu.