Chapter Text
Resentment cut through Wei Ying’s body like harsh winter wind through a thin cloak.
He stumbled, catching himself on the steep mountain path. Not good. Maybe an urgent problem.
Too long without meditation, and the build up of yin energy would make his fingertips and toes go numb. Even longer, and the tingling numbness would turn to a terrible burning-from-the-inside-out feeling. And then, of course, there was the losing-control-and-getting-eaten-by-his-own-fierce-corpses issue, but Wei Ying was fairly determined not to let that happen again.
Still! Right now, he was too busy. He’d have to deal with it later.
Since leaving Lan Zhan, Wei Ying had been running himself ragged. He had many pressing concerns. Of course, number one, there was the ever-clawing resentment trying to take over his body and mind. Number two, there was Mo Xuanyu’s tiny, fluttering core begging for attention. And number three, he needed money.
Of all the problems Wei Ying had, money was the easiest. It was simple cause and effect - perform a task and receive payment. All throughout Wei Ying’s life, money came and went (same with food, same with shelter, same with people), but there was always a way to get more of it.
Today, he was performing a nighthunt for a rather modest fee. It was fine! He’d solve the case, accept his payment, get a hotel room, maybe eat a little something, and then he’d be rested and well enough to meditate away the resentment creeping through his body. He had a clear plan!
For now, he only needed to focus on the case.
At the top of Emei Mountain, there was a temple to the well-beloved fertility goddess, Guanyin. For many years, local young couples in the mountain range had made the pilgrimage to Guanyin’s temple to pray to the goddess and leave offerings in hopes of earning her favor and bearing children. For many years, those who visited the temple boasted large families with many children - that is, until recently.
Apparently, there had not been a child born in the area of Emei Mountain within the past three years. Not even a pregnancy.
Families were growing anxious, and couples were growing desperate. But no matter the sacrifice, no matter the offering, no matter how many hours spent at the temple bowed in prayer, no children came.
It was too many couples to simply be a coincidence.
Wei Ying did not know much about gods or goddesses, but he did know about curses. As he climbed the mountain and reached the temple, he realized instantly that his suspicions were correct.
Despite the great climb, the temple was clearly well-maintained. The paths were swept. The offering boxes were overflowing with coins and jewelry. The statue of Guanyin was perfectly polished, the marble gleaming with zero flaws.
If there truly was a goddess, there was no reason for her to cast ire upon her devoted followers. They had maintained her temple well.
But there was a sickening coil of resentment in the air. Wei Ying could feel it, the hair on the back of his neck standing up.
A curse. Definitely.
He was closely inspecting Guanyin’s statue when the faintest pluck alerted Wei Ying to an arrow whizzing straight towards his head. He quickly side-stepped and caught it in mid-air. “What is this?!” he asked more out of surprise than confusion. Who would want to shoot at him?! Or rather - who on this mountain in the middle of nowhere would want to shoot at him?
“Jin Ling!” came an admonishing voice. Wei Ying recognized it instantly as Lan Jingyi’s. “That’s Wei-qianbei!”
Jin Ling’s response was as ornery as expected. “Well, how was I supposed to know?! I saw this pale, waifish, terrible thing and thought it was a ghost!”
“Rude!” Wei Ying sputtered, although he did try to run a hand through his wild hair. His fingers immediately caught on tangles. Maybe he hadn’t been taking the best care of himself, but surely he was at least recognizable as a human being.
Fortunately, not all of the juniors were put off by his wretched appearance. “Wei-Qianbei!” Sizhui called in delight, running over.
“Radish!” Wei Ying replied, forgetting the murder attempt and greeting Sizhui with a hug. “What are you four doing here?”
“We’re on a nighthunt,” Zizhen said, hurrying into the temple behind Sizhui. The others wandered in a bit more slowly. “There’s a goddess who is punishing all the townspeople nearby. We’re supposed to please her!”
“Is that why you’re here, too, qianbei?” Jingyi asked.
Wei Ying hummed. “Mostly.”
“Mostly?” Jin Ling asked.
“I don’t think we need to appease a goddess,” Wei Ying explained. Now that the juniors were here, he assumed they’d be working together. “I think we need to undo a curse.”
A fierce gust of wind burst through the temple.
“Ominous,” Zizhen said, shuddering.
“Why do you think it’s a curse?” Sizhui asked.
Wei Ying gestured around them. “Look at this place,” he said. “There’s not a speck of dirt on the ground, a fluff of dust on a single surface… The offering plates are piled high, there’s even fresh fruit placed at Guanyin’s feet… What would she have to be upset about?”
“There could be something specific she wants,” Jingyi said. “That’s what we were supposed to figure out.”
“Feel the air,” Wei Ying countered.
All four boys closed their eyes. It wouldn’t take long to sense the dark qi hanging in the air. Another burst of wind cut through the temple, and all four boys shivered, opening their eyes. “Something is wrong here,” Jin Ling said.
Wei Ying tilted his head. “Oh? Almost as wrong as nearly killing your uncle for the fourth time?”
At that, Jin Ling bristled, cheeks heating up pink. “That was an accident! And fourth time?! What are you talking about?!”
Wei Ying counted on his fingers. “Dafan mountain, you attacked me with your sword, albeit that was maybe warranted,” he admitted, “Carp Tower, you stabbed me. Not warranted!” Wei Ying had been trying to help Jin Ling ever since identifying him as his nephew. “And at the Burial Mounds, you drew your sword on me again!”
“All of those were warranted,” Jin Ling grumbled.
“Let’s move on,” Jingyi said, ignoring them both. “If it’s a curse, how do we fix it?”
Wei Ying tapped his nose. “Now that is the question, isn’t it?”
“You mean you don’t know?!” Jin Ling asked.
“We’ve only just arrived,” Sizhui said, excusing Wei Ying as he continued to examine the temple. “These things surely take some time.”
“Do you think there’s a spirit here?” Zizhen asked.
“We could use Empathy,” Jingyi suggested.
“Or Inquiry,” Sizhui offered, airing on the side of caution.
“I don’t like that look in his eye,” Jin Ling said to the others, watching as Wei Ying paced about the room. “He’s about to do something stupid.”
“I’m not going to do something stupid,” Wei Ying argued, even as he found the most concentrated area of resentment in the temple. It seemed to all be swirling around a small urn held on a table behind Guanyin’s statue. Someone’s remains had been left here. Inquiry and Empathy were tools Wei Ying often used to solve problems like these, but he had other methods - mainly touching things he shouldn’t.
“You’re definitely being stupid!” Jin Ling insisted as Wei Ying reached out to touch the urn, but Wei Ying ignored him.
Three things happened in quick succession.
- Wei Ying touched the urn.
- Something invisible punched him in the gut, hard enough to make him double over.
- A warm, curling feeling spiraled through his dantian and around his spine.
Wei Ying fell to his knees.
“See?! Stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid,” Jin Ling said as the others ran forward.
Wei Ying coughed, the wind knocked out of him. He fell forward even further, barely catching himself on his hands. “Wei-qianbei!” Sizhui worried, coming to his side and helping him to lie flat.
“I’m okay,” Wei Ying said, voice scratchy. He meant it quite honestly, the first blow had been strong and weakening, but the feeling in his abdomen now wasn’t unpleasant, if terribly foreign. It would have all been fine if it wasn’t the first step of a chain reaction.
There was a shift in the air as the resentment concentrated around the urn began to seep into the room. Typically, yin energy was invisible, simply an undercurrent to the balance hanging in the air. The only times Wei Ying had seen it strong enough to be seen by the naked eye was when it leeched off the Yin Tiger Tally, wielded by his own hand.
Now, the urn began to leak dark coils of resentment into the air.
“Not good,” Zizhen worried.
The dark energy headed straight to Wei Ying’s core.
“Really not good!” Jingyi agreed, as Wei Ying tried to prop himself up and run. But it was too late. The moment the resentment touched him, it seemed to fill his chest, body, and throat. Wisps of resentment coursed out of his nose, and Wei Ying’s body started to seize.
There was a fundamental change in his core. Something nauseating and sickly, but warm and comforting. Wei Ying found himself coughing, the foreign feeling growing stronger, and then his body started to seize.
“Wei-qianbei!” Sizhui called, urgently rolling him to his side. Wei Ying’s body shook as he tried and failed to fight the powerful yin energy overtaking his body. He hadn’t felt qi this strong since the burial mounds, and he closed his eyes fighting off painful memories.
“What do we do?!” Zizhen asked anxiously.
“Qianbei, can you hear us?!” Jingyi questioned by his ear.
“We need to get him to a doctor,” Sizhui said. His voice was the last thing Wei Ying heard before falling to unconsciousness.
Whatever the curse, it was powerful. One Wei Ying may not survive alone.