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Straddling One’s Own Grave
A lot of things were different, after the Burial Mounds. A hundred thousand corpses, his own human body (fully human, with no golden core to grasp at immortality), the gravedirt, and the blackened bamboo all combined to rebuild him anew. Rebuild him into something other.
If asked, Wei Wuxian would call it ‘picking up some new tricks’.
If honest, Wei Wuxian would call it ‘dying’.
It’s not like he could trace back the exact moment when he’d changed so fundamentally, but by the time he’d emerged, cold and vengeful, from the swirling resentment, his body barely felt like his own anymore.
The cold wasn’t surprising – he’d carried a central fixture of resentment out with him after all – and neither was his lack of appetite. He hadn’t eaten in three months, and even his shijie’s perfect soup went down like ashes and dust.
(It was still somehow the best thing he’d ever eaten.)
No, what took him by surprise was his heartbeat. After his revenge, after Wen Chao and his attack dog lay sprawled in their own gore, he’d written off the visceral pounding in his chest as adrenaline. But then, he kept hearing it all the time.
And not hearing it.
It was a constant awareness that he had to forcibly ignore, lest he be seen checking his pulse at odd times by Jiang Cheng or heavens forbid Lan Zhan. When he moved, he could hear his heartrate pick up to accommodate it, as if his blood had to be convinced into moving. When he slept, he could hear it stop.
When he woke up, it felt like he had to force his blood to unclot and rush back out to his limbs. Wei Wuxian knew corpses (better than he knew himself), and several times he’d had to hide the corpse-like bruises left by pooling blood.
(He started sleeping on his back – like some sort of proper Lan – just to make sure he wouldn’t be caught with congealed blood bruising beneath the skin of his face.)
Sometimes, it took hours before he could hear his heart beating steadily again.
And, really, he reasoned, what was the point of mentioning it? Just to worry his family, or get exorcised, or become some sort of medical anomaly? He was already a medical anomaly for an entirely different reason, thanks, and he wasn’t going to be mentioning that either.
Besides, what was one more almost-dead man among a battlefield of shambling corpses?
He was certainly alive enough.
At least he was in good company. The spirits of the dead never scolded him; they only whispered in the back of his skull. Some of them were even nice! They were just people like everyone else, and they wanted to be heard like everyone else. Righteous cultivators were so closed-minded.
So no, he wasn’t going to bring up the numbness in his limbs, or his unsteady heart, or the gaping chasm of something almost-hungry where his golden core used to sit. Better to play the fool than to give them all a new justification to decide he was less than human.
He would take his issues to his grave (his next one, not the one he’d already crawled out of).
Really, he should have known that even the dead found no rest these days.
-------
It was stupid.
Really, really stupid.
But maybe he’d just gotten so used to lying that he’d accidentally started believing his own bullshit. He’d been awake for a while; his blood was pumping, his heart was beating, and he was breathing normally. It was almost too easy to forget that that wasn’t always the case.
The trouble began with a murder.
A Jin cultivator had died (a net gain, really) behind his own tent – attacked mysteriously in a silent, peaceful camp. No witnesses, and the man had been stabbed five times in the chest. Wei Wuxian, honestly, wasn’t paying much attention.
(He already knew what had happened, since the spirits he carried with him from the Burial Mounds were terrible gossips. Attempted sexual assault on a female Jin cultivator, who then ran the bastard through multiple times. Clean, simple, justified. His resentful ghosts were almost disappointed without the drama.)
Still, the Jin were nothing if not prideful (ugh) and they demanded satisfaction for the obvious murder, calling on the Lan clan to speak to the deceased. Wei Wuxian was just here to see if the mostly-intact corpse was going to be part of his lovely army, and of course Jiang Cheng was here to make sure Wei Wuxian didn’t insult too many people.
So now their circle of corpse-watchers contained the Jin captain, Lan Wangji, Lan Xichen, Jiang Cheng, and Wei Wuxian.
Lan Wangji sat down in the dirt (yet Wei Wuxian was sure his robes would be pristine when he stood up again), and revealed his guqin, hands already poised to play.
“The Jin clan thanks the Lan clan for their help in this matter.” The Jin captain bowed formally.
Lan Xichen, still smiling gently, bowed in return. “It is of no trouble. We can begin when ready.”
Wei Wuxian resisted the urge to roll his eyes and demand that they get on with it. The longer the corpse sat there, the less pliable its limbs would be when (if) he raised it.
The Jin captain bowed again, and Lan Wangji began to play.
Wei Wuxian suddenly felt dizzy. He couldn’t even register Lan Xichen translating before a voice whispered directly into his mind.
What is your name?
He had the strangest impulse to answer, but he mentally batted the melodious question away. Where had that even come from? A nearby spirit?
He refocused as the guqin stummed a response. Lan Xichen nodded. “We are speaking with the deceased.”
Then, Lan Wangji was playing again.
How did you die?
“Which time?” Wei Wuxian grumbled when the dizziness and a foreign compulsion coaxed him into speaking. He’d definitely died in the fall, but the Burial Mounds had probably brought him back then killed him again… at some point. He cocked his head, trying to listen for where the questions were coming from. That tone of voice… it sounded so familiar.
He was distracted by Lan Xichen speaking again. “He says he was stabbed by –”
But Wei Wuxian missed the name when Jiang Cheng punched his arm. “Stop muttering, you idiot.”
In retaliation, Wei Wuxian stuck his tongue out at his little didi. He’d been muttering? Concerning, but not out of character. He’d deal with it if it became a problem.
Lan Xichen was already continuing. “He says there was a fight…”
Wei Wuxian only barely stifled a scoff. Yeah, right. A fight.
He vaguely noticed the way his dizziness continued to mount, but for some reason it wasn’t concerning until there was a sudden pull and burn right at that hungry chasm in his abdomen.
Why were you killed?
Oh weird, now he could place the voice, it sounded just like Lan Zhan. The compulsion was too strong to ignore this time, and his mouth opened without his permission.
“Probably because I called him a coward and threatened to come back and haunt his ass.”
Something was already being plucked on the guqin, but Wei Wuxian could only see Lan Zhan’s golden irises which were suddenly locked onto his. Lan Xichen only barely sent him a startled look before he turned to the Jin captain.
“It seems he attempted to… assault the young mistress and she responded accordingly.” Lan Xichen said loudly, like he was trying to cover for Wei Wuxian’s outburst.
And that was when he realized how stupid he was.
In his defense, he heard voices all the time – what with a thousand spirits whispering in his ears – but really why could he hear the qin language!? Was Lan Zhan so ridiculously capable that he could pull answers from any source of resentment!?
Jiang Cheng’s hand suddenly became a manacle around his bicep before Wei Wuxian even conceived of getting the fuck out of there. Ah damn. Wei Wuxian tried to corral his limbs into something approaching cohesion (ugh, he was still so dizzy), but no amount of strength could shove Jiang Cheng off without a golden core
(Ah… irony.)
Lan Xichen was already herding the Jin captain away, probably arranging funeral rites or something, but Wei Wuxian caught the meaningful look he sent back to Lan Wangji.
Lan Wangji, who was still staring at Wei Wuxian with wide eyes.
And then it was just the three of them.
Jiang Cheng broke the stunned silence. “Wei Wuxian what the fuck was that!?” He shook Wei Wuxian’s arm roughly, and had Wei Wuxian been any less dizzy and disoriented, he could’ve stood his ground. Instead, his legs buckled and he fell back on his ass.
Excellent way to start, really.
With one arm still raised by Jiang Cheng’s grip, he lazed backwards as if he’d meant to sit. Yep, definitely intentional.
“What was what? You know, me! I’m always spouting nonsense!” Wei Wuxian grinned and sprawled his legs out confidently. It’s all in the posture, a voice whispered in the back of his mind.
Unfortunately, he was with both his brother and one of the most perceptive cultivators of their generation.
“Wei Ying answered Inquiry.”
“Nah, I was just thinking out loud.” Wei Wuxian waved his free hand carelessly. Jiang Cheng’s grip tightened. Ow.
“No you weren’t. You answered the question exactly.” Jiang Cheng snarled.
“Did I? How come you were paying attention to me and not that lovely corpse over there anyway, Jiang Cheng? It’s almost touching! Listening to your da shixiong at last!” Divert, divert, divert! Maybe he could make them mad enough to drop him and leave.
“Wei Ying.” Lan Zhan had… some kind of tone in his voice. Wei Ying hadn’t heard it before, but he recognized the determination in his eyes at least.
Oh shit.
Lan Wangji maintained resolute eye contact, and raised his hands to play.
Oh fuck.
Wei Wuxian yelped, and tried to twist out of Jiang Cheng’s iron hold. Honestly, if he knew for sure he could reattach his own limbs with resentful energy, we would have gnawed his arm off just to get out of there. But he didn’t know, and he was too late anyway.
What is your name?
If Inquiry had made him dizzy before, this time it felt like he’d downed fifteen jugs of Emperor’s smile at once, and then had a fire shoved into his abdomen (which was almost funny, because he’d been missing this exact sensation for months, but now it was too painful to bear).
“Wei Ying, courtesy name Wuxian.” He hadn’t even felt his mouth open. Somehow, despite the burn, he felt even emptier now than when Wen Qing had removed his core. Maybe getting even the barest taste of spiritual energy after losing it forever was worse than having it ripped away at all.
He burned. But somehow, it made the ache at his vacant core hungry.
“Wei Ying.”
“Wei Wuxian!”
But Wei Wuxian still felt more drunk than he’d ever been in his life, and metaphorically starving to boot. He couldn’t respond to his name with more than a confused little grunt.
“Inquiry only speaks to the dead. Only the dead are compelled to answer.” Lan Zhan said softly from somewhere far away.
“But he isn’t dead!” That was Jiang Cheng. Vaguely he felt his arm flop to the ground next to him, and the thud of someone kneeling nearby.
“Wei Ying. What is happening?” Lan Zhan asked, but Wei Wuxian, again, could barely hum out an answer through the dizziness.
“Try Inquiry again! What the fuck!?”
“Mn.”
And suddenly, the trace of spiritual energy was back, another gut punch that yanked at his very being and seared against the gaping wound in his core.
How did you die?
His mouth opened, and it was suddenly so nice not to use any effort to move it. At least something finally felt easy. “I fell. Then it had to stitch me back together, so I could give the rest away.”
“Give the rest… away? What’s ‘it’? Wei Wuxian, what does that even mean!?”
Where did you die?
“Burial Mounds.”
There were hands on his shoulders, and he could feel his heart rate slowing down. Yeah it’d nice to sleep right about now… He hadn’t had a good nap in…
Who killed you?
“Wen Chao.”
One hand moved to settle on his wrist, and more spiritual energy prodded at him. The hungry maw in his abdomen roared with it. Recognized it.
What did you give away?
“Almost everything.”
“Lan Wangji! He doesn’t have –!”
Another hand, and cooler spiritual energy. He couldn’t hold onto it, or circulate it, but his empty core wanted it and it hurt.
Suddenly, he heard a series of notes, not words. There wasn’t a clear message, but he got a distinct sense of dismissal.
And then, he slammed back into himself. It felt as if his entire being jarred in place and his soul rattled at the cage of his bones. Even his heartbeat burst into a messy gallop. Ugh. Unpleasant. Gradually, the dizziness faded, and with it the burning impact of spiritual energy.
His mind began to clear.
Oh, fuck.
He slitted his eyes open just enough to see Lan Zhan and Jiang Cheng leaning over him where he was, apparently, sprawled out on his back in the dirt.
“What the hell happened to your golden core, you fucking moron!?” Jiang Cheng shouted, something haunted behind his eyes. Something suspicious. Shit.
Wei Wuxian attempted a smile. “What ever do you mean? My golden core is right where it belongs, I’m fine!” And that was the truth, damnit.
This time it was Lan Zhan who shook his head, the barest of frowns etched into the lines of his forehead. “Wei Ying has no core. Was it Wen Zhuliu?”
“…Yeah, lost it before they dropped me.” Wei Wuxian cringed reluctantly and shrugged, acting for all his worth like they’d caught him. If Lan Zhan was going to give him an out, he was damn well going to take it.
But now, his worst enemy turned out to be his furious brother, who shook his head with tears in his eyes. “No. It wasn’t Wen Zhuliu, was it?” Jiang Cheng dropped a hand to his own dantian, fingers trembling. “But… you said…”
Damn his brother for actually having a working brain. Wei Wuxian had really been relying on delirious relief to keep Jiang Cheng from examining the whole ‘Baoshan Sanren’ story.
“Of course it was!” Wei Wuxian raised an arm to cover his eyes. “How else would someone lose a core?” He flailed his other hand expressively. “Besides, what does it matter anyway? I’m fine now, aren’t I – better even, I could wipe out the Wens in an afternoon if they let me!” A roguish grin to punctuate it, and he felt pretty good about it all, really.
Really. He had no regrets.
Jiang Cheng glared through teary eyes. “Oh yeah? What were the directions you gave me. How do you get to Baoshan Sanren’s mountain, Wei Wuxian?”
Oh no. Wei Wuxian’s memories of that time were vague to say the least. He honestly didn’t remember anything from the days before or after the surgery either, like his mind had cut off the whole thing entirely.
“Jiang Cheng! I can’t say that in front of Lan Zhan – it’s a family secret!” He protested, clasping his hands and making his eyes as wide and innocent as he could.
“No it fucking isn’t!” Jiang Cheng was shouting now. “I’m such a fucking moron! What did you do, Wei Wuxian!? Why would you!? Were you happy to make me look like an ignorant fool!?”
Lan Zhan looked back and forth between them, eyes wide. “Wei Ying?”
“I didn’t do anything!” Wei Wuxian objected. He really hadn’t! It was just a bit of research, and then lying on the ground for a while.
“Then TAKE IT BACK!” Jiang Cheng roared (thank god they on the very edge of camp, practically in the trees). “I don’t want it! Do you understand!? I never asked for it!”
Wei Wuxian pushed himself onto his elbows, feeling his temper rise and his filter vanish. “And that’s why I had to! You weren’t even supposed to find out!”
“You would have just lied to me for the rest of my life!?”
“YES!” Wei Wuxian reached out and grabbed his brother’s shoulders. “Of course I would! To make sure you never felt this way!!”
Jiang Cheng rasped out a snarl that sounded more like a sob. “You… You asshole! You’re fucking impossible!”
With that, he forcefully shoved Wei Wuxian away and practically ran off, deeper into the forest. Presumably, to find something to hit very hard. Fuck.
Wei Wuxian slumped back into the dirt, feeling more drained than he even had before. Fucking Inquiry. This whole situation was stupid.
A gentle hand over his chest startled him, and he looked back at Lan Zhan, still kneeling at his side.
“Wei Ying.”
“Lan Zhan, ah it’s fine. Really. Don’t think about it too much, please.” He tried for a winning smile, but it felt ragged on his face.
Lan Zhan’s eyes were bright with unshed tears. “How?” Then, closing his eyes. “Why?”
Wei Wuxian wasn’t sure how anyone could have refused to answer in the face of Lan Zhan’s tragically perfect beauty. He sighed heavily, looking away at the cloudy sky. “He needed it more.”
Lan Zhan’s eyes snapped open and he glared, so Wei Ying rushed to finish.
“You didn’t see him Lan Zhan! He was fading away! Jiang Cheng couldn’t have survived without a core, it’s his everything.” Wei Wuxian gestured to Chenqing in his belt. “I have enough tricks to work with, I’m fine without one.”
“You are not.” Lan Zhan pressed harder against Wei Wuxian’s chest – and that’s when he realized.
Lan Zhan had been feeling his heartbeat.
His heartbeat which had almost stopped before, and even now remained unsteady while it gradually returned to equilibrium.
“Th…that’s…” What was he even supposed to say here? ‘Oops, sorry Lan Zhan I’m still half buried where I died’? ‘That’s just a normal health condition’? Maybe, ‘Awww, are you worried about this frail man, Lan Zhan?”
I don’t even know how alive I am.
“It’s nothing.” He finally settled on. He couldn’t even bring himself to flirt outrageously and force Lan Zhan to flee. He was just too tired.
Plus, Lan Zhan’s hand was wonderfully warm.
“Wei Ying is…” For the first time, Wei Wuxian heard Lan Zhan’s voice genuinely fail. “…dead?”
Giving into impulse, he rolled over and curled himself around Lan Zhan’s arm, hoping to spread the warmth down to his freezing bones.
“I really don’t know, Lan Zhan. Dead enough, I guess.”
Wei Ying didn’t comment on the few tears that fell from Lan Zhan’s eyes. He didn’t know what to do. Physically, couldn’t feel anything other than the warmth and energy he’d curled into. Emotions were too far away.
Fuck, he was tired.
“And Suibian…” Lan Zhan’s voice was down to a faint whisper.
Wei Wuxian smiled. It felt sad. “Ah, well. It’s not worth it, carrying a heavy walking stick into a battle.” That’s all Suibian could be to him, anymore.
Lan Zhan said nothing, while Wei Wuxian let himself drift. After some amount of time, Lan Zhan’s warm arm moved. A sound like leaves across the forest floor whispered by Wei Wuxian’s ear, and suddenly, two strong bands wrapped around his back and under his knees. His heartbeat was already slowing; every thump ponderous in his chest.
Then, he was lifted. Normally, he would have squirmed and protested, but –
Lan Zhan was so warm.
Not the sun-bright burn of spiritual energy, but instead a banked fire in the evening. Wei Wuxian couldn’t help it; he turned his cold nose into Lan Zhan’s shoulder and curled his arms in, pressing as close as he physically could.
“Sorry, Lan Zhan.” He slurred out, he knew how much Lan Zhan hated touching others, but his soulmate had had carried him first, so it was probably fine.
“Wei Ying.” Lan Zhan’s voice was a deep rumble against his ear. “I will help. Rest.”
Ah, that sounded nice, but…
“It’s okay, I’m fine. Sorry.”
“Wei Ying. I will help. Let me help.”
Before Wei Wuxian could respond, he slipped unconscious. Maybe, when he woke up, he’d still be warm.
(He was.)