Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jiang Cheng came to long after Wen Qing took the needle out of his head. The limbs left immobile for so long protested his attempts to sit up. The blindfold Wei Wuxian insisted on him wearing was gone, and the woman who sat in front of him was not Baoshan Sanren. Jiang Cheng remembered Wen Qing- how could he not? The first thing Jiang Cheng could think of was how Wei Wuxian lied to him. He feels for the golden core promised to him and finds nothing. 

At first, he doesn’t know what to say. Then, he has too much to say. 

“Where is he?” This was not the first thing he wanted to say to her. Not when he could reach into the place where his core would be and find it as empty as it had when his brother told him he knew how to fix it. Wen Qing is as imperceptible as she’s always been from the little bit of time he knew her. Her back is stiff as a wooden plank and beside her are scarcely touched remains of a packed lunch. 

They are not on Baoshan Sanren’s mountain. Never once did it occur to Jiang Cheng that Wei Wuxian wouldn’t have been told such sensitive information such as where his mother lived. All of Sanren’s disciples were forbidden from returning, and his mother died when they were young children. Wei Wuxian sounded so confident, and he’d been so desperate for anything to bring his life back that he was willing to believe anything. The little camp surrounding the long rock he was sitting on looked so ridiculous, it was incredible he believed the immortal Baoshan Sanren took him to her temple to heal him. 

Wen Qing takes a slow drink from her teacup. He can see the stress lines in how he sees himself in the mirror on her face. “In Yiling,” She says, in a matter of fact kind of tone. The undertone of disappointment is unmistakable. “He thought it would be better if he went down alone and waited for you. He…” Finally, Wen Qing gives him a long, sad look. “He knew you would be upset when you woke.” 

The reasonable side of Jiang Cheng knew space would give him time to simmer down, to collect his thoughts and process what just happened. The other, uglier side of him wondered why Wei Wuxian would dare leave him to climb down alone. Instead, he spends some time yelling, thinking he deserved it at least a little after all he went through. Wen Qing doesn’t stop him from screaming and throwing a fit like a child. He doesn’t even remember what he says to her, stopping when the way she looks at him reminds him of his mother. Jiang Cheng is not one who finds it easy to apologize. He’s used to the easy acceptance of his siblings who know him far too well to force anything out of him. 

“Jiang Wanyin,” She only speaks once he’s sitting. “I’ll be frank with you- there’s no point in keeping the truth now. The operation I performed on you was a golden core transfer. When Wei Wuxian and I were researching, it was only a theoretical practice.” Wen Qing sets her teacup aside. It’s gone cold. He doesn’t know how long she’s been sitting there waiting for him. He isn’t sure if he wants to know.

“Do you want to know the odds were?” She asks, but she doesn’t give him the chance to answer. “The odds for a successful core transfer was fifty-fifty. Wei Wuxian knew this, and still, he gave up his core for you.” 

Jiang Cheng suspected many things, but never once did it occur to him that Wei Wuxian would give up his golden core. For him. He didn’t even know it was possible, but his adopted brother always followed the clan motto better than he. For once, Jiang Cheng wished he didn’t. His mother’s words echoed in his memory, ordering Wei Wuxian to protect him. They were so close growing up. Acknowledging the fact Wei Wuxian really would give him his golden core left him cold as if his heart had shattered and laid bare at his feet and leaving only a hole where it used to be. Wen Qing isn’t lying to him, the horror setting in bleeds with despair and Jiang Cheng doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do. 

His lip trembles. “Why?”

The look Wen Qing gives him is unreadable, but he catches the traces of sadness in the corners of her eyes. “He wanted you to achieve your dreams.” She says. “Because he loves you.” 

The Wen doctor doesn’t accompany him down the mountain. This time, her brother is there to see him off. Wen Ning is so skittish hiding behind his sister. Jiang Cheng can’t bring himself to hate them, even though their clan ruined his life. He has nothing except Zidian on his finger and the clothes on his back. Zidian, which used to crackle comfortingly under his thumb twists as silently as a normal ring. The weapon his mother gave him is gone to him before he could even begin to honor her memory. His parent’s remains lie in a pouch at his side. It seems to weigh a ton. Jiang Cheng doesn’t know how to grieve. 

He turns and begins to make the trip down the mountain alone. Wen Qing points him in the direction of Yiling. He marches two feet before her voice stops him. 

“Jiang Wanyin, I-” 

Jiang Cheng turns. For the first time, Wen Qing looks genuinely upset. “Please, don’t forget the kindness done to you.” Don’t blame Wei Wuxian, she doesn’t say, but he understands. Jiang Cheng doesn’t answer her. He gives her a long, unhappy look before he turns once more and continues walking. She doesn’t say anything else until long after he’s out of her view. He would never know what she said to Wen Ning that day. 

He continues the trek in silence. After all, he has no brother to chatter and fills the air this time. He doesn’t realize how much he missed his presence until he makes his hardest walk alone. For all his faults, Jiang Cheng trusts Wei Wuxian more than anyone in the world. Even over his sister, even over his late parents. For the first time in his life, he is on equal footing with Wei Wuxian. He wished he didn’t take sadistic glee from it. The sect leader who was a leader for two days, and the brother who flew too high in the sky and burned all his wings. They were the top ten cultivators of their generation, and now, they were nothing. 

The sun is high in the sky by the time he reaches the foot of the mountain, the very place where he left Wei Wuxian. Knowing him, he probably was in town causing a fuss. Or maybe not, since they were fugitives. 

There hadn’t been anyone in the area when he left, and there continued to be no one when he returned. All Jiang Cheng wanted to do was shake Wei Wuxian and demand answers. He waited for days, hearing nothing from the innkeeper despite his frightened ignorance. Just as he was leaving, he found a set of familiar white robes nearby town. 

“Lan Wangji?” 

The Second Jade of Lan stood impassively some twenty feet away from him, moving so silently he didn’t even realize he was there. He looked surprised to see him standing alone as if Lan Wangji expected him to have someone else accompany him. Wei Wuxian, no doubt. The man had turned into his shadow since the death of his parents. 

“Where is Wei Ying?” Lan Wangji needs no greeting, bypassing every common courtesy pounded into his pretty head. If it weren’t for the alarm in his voice, Jang Cheng would have been annoyed. Except, in his hand was a purple tassel and bell. It took all his self-restraint not to snatch it from the other man’s hand. The Jiang sect silver bell wasn’t unfamiliar, despite it not being his own. He turned the bell over in his hands and traced every scratch and rubbed away engraving. Jiang Cheng stares at Lan Wangji. Something is very wrong. 

“Where did you find this?” He demands, pushing him with all the force he could muster. It does little to faze him. All it did was confuse him farther. When Lan Wangji doesn’t answer right away, he pushes him a second time. “Tell me!” 

Lan Wangji hesitates. “Found it.” He answers. “Pounded into the dirt surrounded by footprints.” By way of explanation, the Lan backtracks them to a small clearing not far from where they found each other. There, they found semi-fresh tracks and dried blood soaked into the dirt. Someone had gotten injured, then dragged away. Dread settled into the pit of his stomach, one he tries to ignore. He was supposed to meet him at the bottom of the mountain. If something happened… what could Wei Wuxian do against cultivators with no golden core? Leading the Wens away the first time was all for naught if he’d been captured. 

“I will go to Gusu,” Lan Wangji tucks the bell into the folds of his robes without asking if he could take his brother’s things. “Search for his whereabouts.” And Jiang Cheng still had to go to Lanling to get his sister. He…. Jiang Yanli had a sect to rebuild. 

Quietly, he pulls away and bows. “Please, if you hear of him, tell me.” He couldn’t do this alone. 

Jiang Yanli had wisely stayed in Lanling after the news of the attack on Lotus Pier broke. In several hours, nearly all of the Jiang sect had been wiped out, burned, and replaced with a supervisory office. Word came from an overly smug Wen disciple who stuck around long enough to ensure the news spread through the entire tower. Sect leader Jiang Fengmian and his wife Yu Ziyuan were dead. There was no news of the sect heir and the head disciple until long afterward. Jin Zixuan hadn’t been much help during the initial commotion of it all, leaving his mother to do most of the comforting while he stood off to the side with awkward condolences. 

Condolences could only go so far. Nie and Lan sect already were gearing for war. Without the Jiang sect to back them, the crippled sects could only do so much before Wen sect started to damage control. However, the prominent sects were angry. Nothing could stop them. Jin Zixuan was frustrated. As sect heir, he felt like his voice should have more prominence. Lately, it seemed his father had even less of an interest than usual to listen to him. Lou Qingyang, himself, and almost all of the heirs of the other sects nearly died during Wen’s indoctrination. What a joke the whole thing had been.

Jin Zixuan scoffs. He could live his whole life without ever having to step foot in Qishan Wen and be completely content. But he still didn’t have his sword. 

A good ten paces ahead of him was Jiang Yanli and his mother, touring the Koi Tower’s gardens for what seemed to be the seventieth time that week. They walked at a leisurely pace, talking about anything that would distract the young woman from the current events. Jin Zixuan followed along bashfully, not contributing to their conversation except to speak when spoken too. He didn’t care for sewing, or the small things in life when his head was occupied by other, larger matters. 

“...-blue.” Jin Zixuan wasn’t paying attention, only pretending to be a dutiful escort to two women who didn’t need one. The words out of Jiang Yanli’s mouth sounded like honey, and now he regretted not listening to her. His mother turns around sharply, gazing at him with what seemed to be a third sense to his mind’s wandering. 

“A-Xuan, you weren’t listening.” Caught red-handed, he froze in place. Madam Jin crosses her arms, eyes boring a hole through the vermillion mark on his forehead. He needn’t wonder how his mother and Jiang Yanli’s mother became such good friends. Their tempers were forces to be reckoned with. 

Jin Zixuan has nothing to say, so he says nothing. Quietly, he bows to his mother and Jiang Yanli. “I will take my leave.” And promptly leaves before he can be scolded for running away, although he most certainly will be regardless if he can hear it behind his back or not. Jin Zixuan doesn’t get very far before something else draws his attention away. 

Koi Tower requires its residents and guests to walk at a leisurely pace. Quick movements drew the eye, ruining its image of perfection. Lanling Jin had far fewer rules than the infamous Rule Wall in Gusu, but no place was without its structure. Running servants and disciples were out of the norm, and he didn’t have to be curious very long before one of the Jin disciples approached him. 

“Young master Jin,” She is out of breath from running, no doubt having come from whatever commotion was at the main gates. “Jiang Wanyin arrived.” Is all she says before the man in question pushes past her. He looks haggard, covered in dust from the road and lack of sleep. His hair is only barely straightened. Marching down the Fragrant Palace, he looks as out of place as a fish in a tree. Jiang Cheng barely seems to register Jin Zixuan standing there, before he’s demanding to know where his sister is. Barely any greeting, hell, no one knew for sure if he was even alive. But where was Wei Wuxian? Very few people ever saw the man without his overbright shadow. 

He doesn’t say anything. Jin Zixuan turns and motions for the Sect leader to follow, who keeps pace despite how tired he must be. Retracing his steps to where they last took less time than it had to leave. Jiang Yanli was standing not far from where he left her, hurrying back. No doubt she already heard the news. Word of mouth traveled quickly through Koi Tower, faster still through servants carrying news. 

The Jiang sibling’s embrace made him long for something he never thought he wanted before. Both are overcome with emotion and Jiang Cheng seems to absorb his sister in his arms for a long time before he knows how to let go. Jiang Yanli sniffs, wiping away her tears with a small chickpea yellow cloth. Without another word, Jiang Cheng pulls out the Qiankun pouch attached to his waist and Jin Zixuan swallows his heart. 

Bowing low, Jiang Cheng presents his sister the hairpieces of their parents. He tries to pretend he can’t see the dead faces of Jiang Fengmian and Yu Ziyuan knowing that was exactly what they both saw. Once returned to the safety of his Qiankun pouch, with great effort, Jiang Cheng pulls Zidian off his finger and puts it on his sister’s. 

Jiang Yanli practically recoils from surprise, gasping as the weapon crackles its acceptance in her hand. If Jiang Cheng had been reassigned as the spiritual weapon’s new master after the death of its former master, Jiang Yanli would be the obvious second choice. She looks horrified. 

“ Jie .” For the second time in ten minutes, Jiang Cheng looks like he’s about to cry. He doesn’t need to say it for her to understand. “I lost my golden core.” Everything Jiang Cheng had ever worked towards- gone. Yanli grips her brother's hands in her own with a strength he never saw from the woman. Her eyes shine with grief. 

“How?” Without being asked she tries to shoulder the pain of her siblings even though it isn’t her own. His life is essentially over and neither of them wanted to admit it. Tears fall from his eyes without his permission. It was as if a dam held together with tape had broken after a little bit of rain. Faced with the reality of everything he’d lost- his core, his sect, his parents, his brother- how could he see the sun again? 

“Those damn Wen-dogs,” He says. “They almost found Wei Wuxian.” The rest hurt far too much to tell. “It’s gone, jie. Wei Wuxian he,” Jiang Cheng shudders, knowing he can feel the shocked eyes of that man on his shoulders. “He tried to give me his. It didn’t work and-”

Jiang Cheng can’t bring himself to finish. It all felt like a dream, except he’d been dunked under ice water and everything was out of his reach. He felt like drowning but there was no water for him to drown under. Jiang Yanli wraps her arms around his broad shoulders. She’s shorter than him but it doesn’t stop her from covering him with her entire embrace, even if she has to pull him down to her level to do so. 

“A-Cheng,” She soothingly rubs her hand in firm circles around his back. “You did your best. We’ll find him.” Jiang Yanli doesn’t pull away until her brother decides he’s ready for it, telling him comforting words into his ear. For a cultivator who spent his entire life forming his core and preparing to take over the sect, losing it was the same as killing him. He would never recover from losing his golden core. The grieving period would never really end, but keeping him from becoming consumed by it and rehabilitating would have to wait. At least for a little while. She knew he would never accept a life of sitting on the sidelines and watching. If there was even the smallest lead to their adopted brother’s whereabouts. 

From the sidelines, Jin Zixuan shifts uncomfortably, having been effectively pushed to the sidelines by the Jiang siblings. “Lady Jiang, young master Jiang, I will have servants prepare for your departure to Yunmeng.” He glances at Jiang Cheng sympathetically. “I’ll keep your lack of a core on a need to know basis”

Jiang Cheng nods before turning to his older sister. “Jie,” There’s a pained sort of look in his eye that hasn’t gone away. “You’re sect leader now.” Technically the title still rested on Jiang Cheng’s shoulders. Because didn’t have a golden core any longer, the head of the clan would fall to the next in line. Despite Jiang Yanli’s weak golden core, a core was a core. She was the natural successor no matter what Jiang Cheng thought about it. He wished he could fight her battles for her. Jiang Yanli did not deserve to go to war. A small, wicked voice in his head tells him Wei Wuxian stole his birthright and gave it away.

Beside them, Jin Zixuan bows deeply to both of them. There’s an unreadable expression on his face as they leave. The man is gone before Jiang Cheng could wonder what it meant. He doesn’t miss the long look passed to his sister. For now, he ignores the look. There were more important things to do: such as rebuilding the sect, finding their brother, and getting rid of every last Wen. 

Jiang Yanli took to becoming sect leader with a grace that surprised everyone except Jiang Cheng. True to his word, Jin Zixuan kept his word and contained the whispers of Jiang Cheng’s sudden arrival and the rumors of what happened the night of Lotus Pier’s burning as much as he could. Eventually, Jiang Cheng and the rest of the cultivational world would have to face the shifting leadership of Yunmeng Jiang and the consequences of it. There was only so much mental preparation he could do before revealing his lack of golden core to the other sects. He knew people would talk and he knew people would react with either sympathy or pity. Jiang Cheng was right about this, and it hurt about as much as he thought it would. 

No one had time to argue over whether or not Jiang Yanli was capable of running the sect. By the time her succession was official, the cultivation world was at war- lead by Nie Mingjue and backed by Jiang Yanli and Lan Xichen, and later Jin Guangshan. Jiang Yanli had the eye for politics Jiang Cheng did not. Politics came up rarely throughout the Sunshot Campaign, but her strategies proved to be invaluable. Never was she seen without her younger brother hot on her heels. His position by her side was indisputable. Coreless or not, he still deserved to be at her side. People talked about Jiang Yanli’s sudden succession over her brother, but the tight-lipped siblings gave nothing away. 

It was Jiang Cheng himself who oversaw his sister’s training since the woman was determined to be as strong as possible in ways her brother could not. Gone was her life of quiet, replaced with strict routine and travel. Lotus Pier was yet to be rebuilt, but the first thing the newly settled sect was to take back the pier from the hands of the Wens. With the help of the Nie sect, Lotus Pier returned to the Jiangs within a single evening. For once, Jiang Yanli didn’t bother to scold Jiang Cheng and the smaller, aggrieved minor sects who joined the Jiangs when their drinking turned borderline unhealthy that evening. 

The headache the following morning hadn’t been worth it, but Yanli couldn’t bear to tell her brother what to do. She could only be there to help him grieve- they both were. 

Jiang Cheng originally didn’t want Jiang Yanli to leave on her own in search of Wei Wuxian. It was only the fact Lan Wanji and several of their disciples were coming along that he finally relented and stayed in Qinghe with the Nie’s. She didn’t know him, and certainly, it wasn’t proper for an unmarried woman to travel alone with a man. Zi Lian accompanied her. Her strength in cultivation proved her to be a formidable bodyguard for the weaker sect leader. Their friendship came swiftly, and it seemed only natural she becomes the servant to Jiang Yanli. It hadn’t been a demotion to the young woman scarcely younger than her youngest brother, who swore herself to the Jiangs after the clan saved her family months ago. 

With Zi Lian and Lan Wangji there to watch her back, Jiang Yanli could be in no better hands. Storming Qishan to retrieve the lost swords hadn’t come easy, and it had been Jiang Yanli’s first real battle. She was well protected, of course, but there was always the loss of innocence that came with war. The deaths of her parents had been such a faraway concept to her, that she hadn’t been as affected by it. Only seeing the dead bodies did the reality of it finally sink in. Her first months as sect leader were bathed in blood cut by steel. Far from the grand, proud succession, she imagined for Jiang Cheng. He had neither of those things.

Jiang Yanli stood overlooking the Jiang and Lan sect disciples clearing the place practically wringing her hands. To his credit, Lan Wangji pretended he wasn’t seeing the sparks of Zidian reacting to her stress. The previous owners of the spiritual weapons had been the temperamental sort, feeding off their anger like a vice. While it aided in intimidation, Jiang Yanli couldn’t help but wonder if Zidian happened to be the spark to tip the scales. She knew well how antagonistic her brother and mother were, and these days she felt the stress of war grate on her nerves. For a time, she let the heavy scales throw in her favor during war meetings. Everyone who questioned her ability to lead would find themselves underneath her proverbial boot. 

Finally, a group of disciples approached them with several cases of spiritual swords. Lan Wangji was the first to recover what the Wens stole, quickly strapping Bichen to his side. Because she hadn’t been at the indoctrination that had almost killed the second Lan and Wei Wuxian, she had no sword to recover except for Suibian and Sandu. With a heavy heart, she held the blades close because the men who owned them could never weld them again.

Jiang Yanli stared down at the swords in her hands, her knuckles whitening over the sheath. “Did you find Wei Wuxian anywhere inside?” She asks. Before her, the disciple bows, though she doesn’t look up at him. 

“No, Sect Leader.” He says. Yanli nods stiffly, and the unnamed disciple motions for the others to carry the swords away to their proper owners. Zi Lian found her later, pouring over maps with Lan Wangji. She approached with no formality, which Jiang Yanli appreciated, and waited for no motion to stand by her side. 

“Lady Jiang, master Lan,” She says tersely. “I have reports from surrendered Wen disciples.” The young woman spoke in a low tone, and both stepped closer; Lan Wangji with an eagerness she hadn’t expected from the man. Wei Wuxian always spoke kindly of him, but the way he’d acted while her brothers were studying in Gusu made it sound like he wasn’t as fond of him as Wei Wuxian was of him. She wondered when they’d gotten so close. 

Jiang Yanli nodded. “Please, tell us.” 

Zi Lian looked uncertain, almost pondering over what she should say. “I sent some people over to Yiling as you asked.” She says. Jiang Yanli grabs her hands without thinking, her bodyguard barely even blinks at the action, only holding her tighter. “A merchant said he saw a group of Wens dragging a bloodied man out of an inn. When asked, the innkeeper said two young cultivators booked a room, one returned alone after a couple of days before he was taken. The other waited around before paying the tab and leaving.” She takes a breath. “They said the Wens who took him were prominent members.” Jiang Yanli felt the color leave her face. She turns to look at an equally as shocked Lan Wangji, who seemed to have trouble keeping his face in one expression. 

“It had to have been A-Xian,” She says. “But where would they have taken him?” Jiang Yanli feels faint, pressing her fingers to her temple. Zi Lian’s gentle grip on her arm steadies her, keeping her standing still. 

“Where would they put someone they want to get rid of?” Lan Wangji seems to come to the same conclusion. The three of them share a glance, Jiang Yanli becoming paler as the realization settles in. 

She sucks in a breath. “It would be-”

“The Burial Mounds.”

Two months passed before she knew it. Jiang Yanli’s life seemed to be consumed by unending battles and war meetings. In any other circumstances, she would have been the one to stay behind and oversee the rebuilding of the Lotus Pier. Instead, it was left to a higher ranking disciple of a clan who merged with the Jiang sect. Jiang Cheng refused to be left out, and he’d been the most surprised when the news came to their ears of a mysterious person driving the Wens away. 

At first, it had been small substations of the Wens. Most of the head cultivators let it be until reports came of sudden deaths wiping out an entire supervisory office in the middle of the night. Each person had died differently as if they’d killed themselves at once. The loss in numbers held a greater impact for the four major clans and had no doubt added to Nie Minjue’s success in killing Wen Xu. Jiang Yanli hadn’t been the only one to become sick at the sight of the Wen heir’s head that night. 

The force driving away the Wens could not go overlooked, not when burial sites were undug and entire armies risen to fight their comrades. Following Wen Chao’s trail took them back to Yiling after his previous supervisory office was ransacked in the middle of the night. As far as anyone was aware, Wen Chao and Wen Zhuliu were the only survivors, not even Wang Lingjiao walked away that night. 

Wen Chao and Wen Zhuliu had gotten sloppy. They found it almost laughable how easy it was to track them. Then again, the trail of dead bodies made for a morbid land marker. If Jiang Yanli didn’t know any better, she might have thought they gave up. Deep down, she knew it was because they were scared of something. If the reversed talismans said anything, the same person haunting them seemed to be much more than a ghost. 

The courier station was located nearby a small and out of the way mountain city, two stories high with a single stable for only a couple of horses. After following for several days, Jiang Yanli and Lan Wangji finally caught up with the Wens. Resentful energy seemed to smother the place, even before they were close to the building itself. Climbing onto the roof (with some difficulty from the woman), they were able to sneak a glance at the traveling pair. 

“Don’t turn on the light!” Wailed Wen Chao, whose voice sounded pinched, laced with pain. He seemed smaller than she imagined, huddled in on himself under his cloak. Wen Zhuliu trembled, revealing a grotesque mess of a man when the cloak was removed from his body. Burns, scrapes, and old wounds festering with the beginnings of infection. Even with medication applied, hard travel and extreme stress took their toll on the man. Even the healthiest of persons couldn’t fight off infection in similar scenarios.

“You need ointment or you will die.” Wen Zhuliu sounded neither displeased nor comfortable with the man huddling by his feet. The tenderness in which he applied the medication suggested otherwise, keeping him from crying. It was a shame Wen Chao didn’t know how to be appreciative of the things the Core Melting Hand was doing for him, continuing to insult the man. Still, Wen Zhuliu loyally stood by his side. 

Inside, the remaining candles snuffed out from the unnatural wind. With all the windows closed, no strong gusts of wind could smother the flames. Immediately, everyone tensed, hands on their swords. Wen Chao cowered at Wen Zhuliu’s feet who stood staring down the approaching footsteps. 

“No! He’s coming!” They didn’t know who he was talking about, only Wen Zhuliu understood what he meant. 

With bated breath, the two cultivators pressed their faces against the hole in they made in the roof, watching as their mysterious ghost reached the final landing.

It was Wei Wuxian.

Chapter Text

Deep in his body, a constant ache pounds with each beat of his heart. Even without opening his eyes, he knew his body was not in a good enough state to do anything. How long he’d been lying he couldn’t guess. The sun couldn’t penetrate this far into the depths of the Burial Mound so he has no real idea how to tell time. He counts the minutes by the crawling of insects and when he can’t hear his own thoughts from the screaming of others. The night is always worse here, he remembers.

Wei Wuxian doesn’t know what his own voice is and what comes from the resentful energy of the trapped souls around him. He’s never been in such an oppressive place before in his life. It’s almost like every soul that is within the bottom of the Burial Grounds is sitting on his back at once. It rattles the breath in his lungs and he realizes he fractured a rib in the fall. 

A long-time passes before he has the strength to pull himself up. He’s used to the disembodied eyes staring at his every move, despite the setting paranoia. He moves carefully, using an old bone as a splint against his leg. With nothing to tie the makeshift splint to his body, Wei Wuxian takes the ribbon from his hair and ties it together. Wei Wuxian can’t accurately assess the state of his body without a golden core pushing spiritual energy through his veins. Healing will take much longer than normal. His body feels fragile; as if he would crumble into a million pieces at the slightest push. 

Wei Wuxian thanks the dead man for the bone, and crawls to find food. The last time he practiced inedia was when he and Lan Wangji prepared to kill the Xuanwu of Slaughter waiting for help. Here, he knows he cannot last as long without some sustenance. His pace is agonizingly slow, but somehow he manages to climb high enough to escape the worst of the resentful energy. 

The Burial grounds are covered in so much dead, he needn’t dig very far to find remains. Many lie in the open and exposed to the air. Despite knowing this, the first bones he comes across are still shocking. Instead of nameless bodies, Wei Wuxian sees the corpses of Yu Ziyuan, Jiang Fengmian, the junior disciples. He’s still haunted by the broken form of Jiang Cheng. He hopes his brother can forgive him for his failure. 

By nightfall, the whispers to turn into hands, resentful energy hounding him like a mad dog. Wei Wuxian doesn’t know how he makes it until morning, the hollow feeling in his chest and the thousands of lost souls in Yiling to keep him company. 

The hands turn into pounding fists that tug at his robes, his hair, his body. Wei Wuxian wakes to the souls desperately trying to pull him apart limb from limb. He curled his fingers into a tight fist and feels the hands disappear. He drags his aching body into a ball. Every movement makes his leg and side throb to the beating of his own heart. The aftertaste of copper is stale in his mouth. His teeth ache but they don’t bleed anymore. Wei Wuxian remembers his threat to Wen Chao. His anger amplifies the blood rushing in his ears. He wants Wen Chao to pay. He wants Wen Chao to suffer. 

Nails rake across every inch of his body uncovered by his own limbs. Something screams in his ear, forcing him to cower deeper into himself. Wei Wuxian can almost feel the spittle against his face. No matter how hard he tries, his hands can’t block the noise. He tries not to thrash, but the longer into nightfall he goes, the more forceful the spirits become- until his legs are forced straight and tugged until his screams become agonizing. 

Between the assault and his own mind reeling, he remembers the Xuanwu of Slaughter. He remembers his time in Gusu. 

Why not dig up all the people killed by the executioner and let them enact justice if that’s what they want?

Spiritual energy is energy; resentful energy is energy as well.

In Yunmeng, the Jiang sect disciples wear clarity bells attached to their belts. Every step would ring the bell, so no matter what, the disciple would always have a place to focus their attention and clear their minds. In Gusu, singing bowls played during meditation where Clarity was not played. 

He pulls his lips together and whistles, swallowing when his parched throat cracks his voice. His mind sharpens. The screams don’t seem so loud anymore. The immediate area around him is black from resentful energy. Against his whistling, it doesn’t react right away. Wei Wuxian imagines his voice is the same tone as a singing bowl, forcing a pitch through the darkness. It bends under his will, wavering and finally, it relents. 

Submit

Bend

Submit 

Between one large hill and another very similar one stood another hill. It was the larger one of the hills, practically a cliff at this point. Wei Wuxian finds a cave surrounded by barely surviving greens. He doesn’t know how life is able to grow in this place, but he finds wild radishes and has the best meal of his life. 

Resentful energy has made the place black. The soil, trees, the rocks… even the air seems to have a pale black tint. At first, it felt like he was limping through Qinghe, with all the dead and dark undertones. No birds make their home here. There are no rabbits or deer in this place. It’s a miracle brittle grass and wild radishes grow in this singular spot. 

Off to one side is a patch of dying bamboo. Wei Wuxian doesn’t need to look for very long before he finds the pieces of an old blade in which to carve a piece of thin bamboo. It’s meticulous work, but when he blows into one end, it’s a functioning dizi. He thinks it sounds terribly melancholic, but the mountain seems to listen to him when he plays.

Spiritual instruments are made in a similar fashion as the spiritual weapons cultivators use. He doesn’t have the spiritual energy needed to embed it into the instrument. The flute is blackened and naturally saturated with resentful energy. Such an instrument could truly rival any weapon his rivals wielded. 

Wei Wuxian laughs at his own arrogance and tosses the dizi aside. 

It takes almost six weeks for his leg to fully heal. Wei Wuxian leaves the Burial Mounds after eight days. He hides the bone splint under his robes and limps down using bamboo as support. When he arrives in Yiling, it’s nightfall. Passing locals stare and whisper to each other. Wei Wuxian regards them with caution before he remembers the want ads looming over his head would be gone. Technically, he should have been dead by now, but it doesn’t mean he shouldn’t be careful.

 He lays in an alleyway with his head resting on some stranger's bag of dirty rags set aside to be washed. His leg aches and it hurts to breathe but it’s more comfortable than his last several days. 

He’s nearly asleep when he feels a small finger tap his shoulder. Wei Wuxian cracks and eye to see a child no older than ten standing by him. The child is too grimy for him to know what gender the child was, but their gaunt cheeks remind him of himself from so long ago. 

“What are you doing?” The child asks. There’s a look of expectation written all over their face. Wei Wuxian amusedly thinks the child reminds of him Jin Zixuan- haughty and all bark. 

“What does it look like?” He asks, but the question comes out flat. The child shrugs. “Let this gege sleep, hmm?” It’s likely he took their sleep spot. It might have been a long time ago, but Wei Wuxian remembers the fights other street kids would have over precious sleep spaces. For a strange adult to suddenly take someone’s spot, the kid was probably quite upset. 

Wei Wuxian shifts, giving space between himself and the child. He pats the ground next to him, then leans his head back and closes his eyes again. “You’ll be much warmer if you sleep next to me.” The nights in Yiling could get cold at night and he’s dressed far warmer than this kid. There’s comfort in pairs, and he’s pleased when the child steps over him and lays down next to him. He doesn’t let the child sleep very far away from him, snuggling him against his chest to keep them warm. They protest momentarily, before giving up and letting him do as he pleased. 

He finds out very quickly the child talks nearly as much as he does, and always right as he’s about to sleep. “Where did you even come from?” The child asks, somehow not bothered by the dried blood and mud-caked to his clothes. “You smell. Did you know that?” Wei Wuxian can’t find it in him to laugh, simply patting their back. The other questions he ignores- what his name was, how old was he, why was his broken leg splinted with a leg bone? It would reveal too much about him that he would rather keep hidden. Others… it was best for a child not to know. 

The child is gone when he wakes, but the dizi in his belt is still there. He considers it a blessing, for the instrument would be wrong in someone else’s hands. Save for a single red tassel left behind, he has no other marker to prove the child ever existed. Wei Wuxian uses the last of the money Wen Qing and Wen Ning gave him on food and new clothes and leaves Yiling to bathe in the river. He can’t afford an inn when he used the bulk of the original money as a down payment for Jiang Cheng to return to. When he stops by to inquire at the inn they stayed at, the manager simply says the room was booked again and the young man left a long time ago. No matter, as long as he made it to Lanling safely. 

Wei Wuxian finds a quiet place to sit and think. The emptiness in his core serves as a reminder of the things he cannot do anymore. He doesn’t know how he’s going to face Jiang Cheng again, after promising him Baoshan Sanren would restore his core only to fail him. Now, having watched his precious golden core crumble into dust after rejecting his brother’s body, he would suffer through the pain a second time if it meant it worked. 

There was also the problem of the Wens in Yiling. Yiling was technically part of Qishan Wen, but still close enough to Yunmeng Jiang. Talk of the locals was the open declaration of war following the destruction and massacre of the Lotus Pier- headed by Nie and Lan sect. No one took them seriously. Wei Wuxian smiles. He knew his place in all of this. 

Wen Chao cowers at the feet of Wen Zhuliu, retreating to the back corner at the mere sight of Wei Wuxian standing at the doorway. There’s an arrogant smile playing on his face, his whole body relaxed but even Jiang Yanli’s untrained eyes can tell the killing intent in the way he rolls his shoulders. 

“Ah, Wen Chao.” He says and leans against the doorframe. “Didn’t I tell you, that if I died I would definitely come back and haunt you?” This draws whimpers from the battered young master, practically in tears at the sight of him. 

Wailing, Wen Chao points a gnarled finger at the Yiling Patriarch and screams: “Wen Zhuliu! Save me!”

Obviously displeased at having been thrust right into Wei Wuxian’s attention, Wen Zhuliu frowns but makes no moves in either direction. Wei Wuxian tilts his head, staring at the man in a similar manner as a bird. His lips curl. “Wen Zhuliu, do you really think you can protect him?”

The Core Melting Hand stares at Wei Wuxian for a long moment, then turns his gaze to Wen Chao, currently trying to fit himself between the cracks in the wall trying to escape. “My gratitude can never be repaid. But perhaps… not at the expense of my own life.” 

From above, a young woman drops onto the man, pulling his feet hard enough to drag him across the room. The blue-faced woman tears the bandages from his face and tosses them aside. Wen Chao passes out from the pain, but it doesn’t stop the dead woman from crawling right back to him to claw at the incapacitated man. He darts to pull the blue-faced woman from Wen Chao

On the roof, Lan Wanji breaks the tiles they were sitting on and the second master of Lan and sect leader Jiang fall to join Wei Wuxian. Jiang Yanli is quick to wrap Zidian around the man’s torso, pulling him back and slamming him against the opposing wall. 

Wei Wuxian’s eyes sweep across them, and then to the wheezing figure on the other side, who wisely stays on the ground. For a moment, Wei Wuxian looks surprised to see Jiang Yanli standing there with Zidian in hand. Illuminated by the crackling whip, she looked exactly like Madam Yu. Her face looked pained, but her eyes relieved. “A-Xian!” Jiang Yanli is at his side in an instant, pulling him down into her embrace. Suddenly, Wei Wuxian realizes just how lonely he’d been the last three months. Jiang Yanli’s arms felt like home. 

“...Shijie.” Jiang Yanli has him bending over to hug her. 

“A-Xian,” She breathes, her face smothered into his shoulder. “But we thought you… the Wens said…” 

Wei Wuxian pulls away. “Said what?” He asks. “I’m fine. Really, shije. I was going to come back right away but,” He tilts his head thoughtfully. “I was hearing how you and Jiang Cheng were rebuilding Lotus Pier and thought I would make myself useful elsewhere.”

In truth, Wei Wuxian did feel remorse for not returning to find his adopted siblings. He’d wanted to put off seeing them again, facing the inevitable confrontation when Wen Qing told Jiang Cheng what happened. He failed his brother, and now they would both have to live the rest of their lives with that. This time, he really ruined it for his family twice over. Standing behind Jiang Yanli, Lan Wangji’s eyes never once left Wei Wuxian. He didn’t know the expression hiding behind his eyes. Lan Wangji held his gaze, then looked away quickly. 

Wen Zhuliu groans, pulling himself to his feet despite the dead woman roughly pulling at his robes, tearing them where her nails gripped the fabric. He kicks her away, and surprisingly, the corpse doesn’t return to tearing at the man. Wei Wuxian’s barely contained bloodlust was held by the grip of Jiang Yanli’s hand on his wrist, though it was clear he wouldn’t have hesitated otherwise. “I thought your debt could never be repaid.” Wei Wuxian says, words practically dripping with hatred. He moves to lift the flute back to his lips but stops short with Yanli’s cupped hands around his ear. He sighs, displeased. 

“Leave.” Wen Zhuliu looks surprised but doesn’t move in any direction.

The man looks at Jiang Yanli’s pale yet determined face, and Lan Wangji’s unreadable one. He takes a single breath. “I see.” Is all he says, giving Wen Chao one last glance. Jiang Yanli has to push Wei Wuxian to stand aside. 

At this time, Lan Wangji steps up and grabs his other arm. “Wei Ying.” 

Wei Wuxian pays his urgency no heed, too far gone in his focus of watching Wen Zhuliu leave.

“Where will you go?” Asks Jiang Yanli, who seems to almost regret her decision of letting him walk away. For tall they knew, he could turn right around and finish the two-day journey to Qishan. 

Wen Zhuilu pauses and spares one last glance at the unconscious Wen Chao. “I think I’ll wander.” He says, “There may be areas in the far north that may need cultivation.” His voice was even as if he’d decided this a long time ago. With no further hindrance from the cultivators in the room, Wen Zhuliu descends the stairs. The glare from Lan Wangji turned from Wen Zhuliu to Wei Wuxian and Jiang Yanli. Wei Wuxian sighs.  

“Lan Zhan,” He crosses his arms. “If Wen Zhuliu goes anywhere near a Wen, the fierce corpse I summoned will tear him apart.” That was the task he’d assigned the corpse, who would deteriorate eventually without his energy keeping it “alive”. No doubt by then, Wen Zhuliu would either be torn to pieces by the corpse or so far north there would be no need for its presence anyway. Lan Wangji doesn’t look convinced, but in the end, Wen Zhuliu is never seen again.

“You really should trust me more.” Wei Wuxian says. 

“What manner of cultivation is this?” He says. “This dark path will harm the body and the mind.” Lan Wangji pauses. “Come to Gusu with me.” 

“Does it matter what I use?” Wei Wuxian says hotly. “It’s my body, I know best.” He steps forward, closing the distance before Jiang Yanli can stop him. Wei Wuxian is a tightly coiled spring held between two fingers and slipping on one end. The only question was when the coil would be released. “You Lans and your thousands of rules. Do you think I’ll let you lock me away for following this path?” 

Lan Wangji wanted to say that no, he didn’t think that at all. There were many things he wanted to admit to Wei Wuxian, but the meaning was stuck somewhere that he didn’t know how to make the words for. So he says nothing at all, and lets the man yell and keeps his hurt feelings to himself. If Wei Wuxian wanted to tell what happened to him in the Burial Mounds, that was for him to decide. Despite what others might think, Lan Wangji would never force him to do anything.

“Second master Lan,” Jiang Yanli’s voice stills the both of them. “A-Xian is my brother. It’s my duty to protect him.” He knows defeat when he sees it. It was never his right to do anything. For a second time, Wei Wuxian slips from his fingers. 

Lan Wangji doesn’t say anything more, but instead hands the Jiang clarity bell back to it’s rightful owner, kept in the same condition as when he found it. Wei Wuxian smiles for the first time since he saw him in the cave in Qishan. His fingers delicately cradle the bell in his hand, cherishing the feel of the polished metal against his skin. For such an important item, he almost didn’t even notice it was gone until he first tried to crawl out of the Burial Mounds. It was a reminder that not everything was lost. 

“Thank you.” He says. His gaze is steady on Lan Wanji’s face, gratefulness in his eyes. Wei Wuxian didn’t expect Lan Wangji to have held onto it for so long, especially considering he’d long since accepted that the bell was gone forever. Even though it took a long time, the things he cherished always returned to him by the hands of those he cared about. 

“Lan Zhan,” He rolls the bell between his fingers. “You shouldn’t be here to see what happens to him.” 

At the corner of the room, Wen Chao sobs quietly. 

Yunmeng, in an indescribable way, is different from what Wei Wuxian knew growing up. The people are much the same everywhere except for inside the Jiang sect. He recognizes no one, but everyone recognizes him. It’s difficult to return to a place where everything is different, yet trying to remain as close to the original as possible. The place burned the night Yu Ziyuan and Jiang Fengmian died. It’s a miracle there are still the supporting grounds where the fire could not completely erase. Wei Wuxian can count the places where it is different and where it is much the same as he remembers. And yet, for everyone similar thing, there are fifty different things. The flowers he and Jiang Cheng carved into the wall behind the throne room are gone, burned away the night they lost everything. 

The cold that came from Yiling followed him to Yunmeng. Despite the sheets, despite being home , the emptiness that slips through the cracks keeps him company at night. Jiang Cheng gives him the same depressed look he knows they both share between them, grieving the same loss and ruined lives. Wei Wuxian knows his brother blames him for what happened. They don’t need to talk for him to know. The Jiangs haven’t disclosed his lack of golden core to the rest of the cultivational world, and they try to avoid as much fighting as possible given what they know. But Wei Wuxian refuses to let himself be carried away by the tide. Chengqing is his reminder of this. 

The armies of the dead he commands strikes fear into the Wens. A sick sense of pleasure ripples through him with the power that clouds his mind. Resentful energy is an uncharted ocean of opportunity he dives into with no ship to keep him dry. It is the one-way path he follows on his own. Wei Wuxian’s nails are always black from the graves he digs when there aren’t enough bodies to bend to his will. 

In his dreams, he’s still in the Burial Mounds. On the days it rains, his leg reminds him of what he did to get out. Jiang Cheng alternates between himself and volatile depression. He knows nothing will be the same between them, and he knows Jiang Cheng gets some sort of pleasure in knowing the two are on the same footing now if he covered his eyes and pretended he wasn’t practicing demonic cultivation. In the final days before the four sects march to the Nightless City, he and Jiang Cheng talk often. 

Wei Wuxian’s room hasn’t been rebuilt yet. The wing his room is in is lower in priority, considering he isn’t even in Lotus Pier often enough to need a room there. The Jiangs return to Yunmeng sporadically. In the days between battles and traveling, Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian are back to sharing a room. This time, it doesn’t feel like his time in Gusu, nor does it remind him of his earlier days in Yunmeng. 

Archery is one thing Wei Wuxian still has in common with Jiang Cheng. They don’t need spiritual energy to use a bow and arrow. Shooting kites suddenly felt like such a childish thing to do, as if they suddenly passed their coming of age and became adults when they really were not. In the end, shooting kites is another thing ruined by the Wens. Instead, they simply shoot straw targets with all the other disciples. There’s no time to return to favored past times. He doesn’t get to wonder what Lotus Pier would be like with Jiang Cheng as it’s sect leader. The shame of failing Jiang Cheng eats at his heart, but he doesn’t blame him for wanting to return to the place where his parents died to bring them peace. Wei Wuxian would have done the same if the remains of his own parents were there. They don’t talk about it, the elephant in the room that was their golden cores. Jiang Cheng doesn’t know how to bring it up, and Wei Wuxian pushes it away. The days they pass in silence, and Wei Wuxian feels his brother slip away from him. 

Jiang Cheng doesn’t notice Wei Wuxian’s approach with two bows and a quiver stuffed full of arrows. He doesn’t pay attention until Wei Wuxian slaps his hand on his back with his free hand. With a strangled noise, Jiang Cheng whips around to level him with a glare. 

“The fuck do you want?” He scowls. Jiang Cheng ignores his chatter, turning back around to supervise disciples on the training grounds. “Quit messing around, or you’ll make things harder for jie again.” 

Wei Wuxian snorts, shoving the other bow into his hands. “Who says I’m messing around?” Placing one hand on his chest he bumps his hip against the man standing next to him. “I just got here. Sheesh, so quick to yell at me.” 

With the quiver of arrows placed between them, a disciple clears a target for them, only to have it pushed back farther at Wei Wuxian’s insistence. He’s always been a good shot, single-handedly setting sect records for the last several years. Coreless or not, he was still Yunmeng’s head disciple. He still excelled in the six arts, six months hadn’t changed. All Jiang Cheng needed to was a bit of a nudge. Of them all, he was the best at dealing with him. 

Beside him, Jiang Cheng has an unreadable expression. It might have been an attempt to hide what he was feeling, although, after a moment it resembles a spoiled lemon. At any other time, he might have laughed at that look on his face. 

“We’re still Yunmeng disciples.” He says, drawing back the bow. Wei Wuxian barely concentrates on where he’s aiming before he releases. They watch in silence as the arrow shoots forward and notch itself next to the center. He turns to Jiang Cheng, waiting for any kind of response from him. When he doesn’t say anything, he quietly prompts, “Shijie needs us.” 

It’s too easy to read him. As open and expressive as he is, Jiang Cheng wears his heart on his sleeve. Whatever emotion he feels is worn like a mask until it’s nearly a caricature of itself. He’s undeniably honest, and he can trust that Jiang Cheng will never lie to him. Why would he ever want to? Wei Wuxian places a hand on his shoulder and waits some more. Does she though ? Jiang Cheng seems to want to ask before resolve settles and his shoulders rise. 

There are a lot of things that are unspoken between siblings: mischief, the easy language between brothers who grew up together, and apologies. Wei Wuxian knows that it doesn't solve everything. He knows that he needs something ahead of him to keep himself from falling into the despair he can see in his eyes when he thinks no one is looking. The insecurity that followed him around, borne from the jealousy of his mother. He has no doubts Madam Yu and Jiang Fengmian did their only son a great injustice by pitting him against Wei Wuxian. Jiang Fengmian, who brought him into Yunmeng and into the world of cultivation, couldn't save his own marriage or praise his son. He can't bring his heart to resent anyone, not while he's so busy giving pieces of himself away to everyone he met in his life. 

"We're still the Twin Prides of Yunmeng." He says. "You and me, we'll always be together." Wei Wuxian's promise comes to mind. It had been something he told Jiang Cheng to comfort him, but he really did mean what he said when he made the promise. It killed two birds with one stone. There was nothing else Wei Wuxian wanted than to be by his side, no matter where life took them. A promise he fully intended to keep. Reminding him as often as it took if it made him feel better. "No golden core? So what? I'd rather walk backward into the spirit world to meet my judgment with open eyes than spending my life on what I could have been." The guilt otherwise would swallow him whole.

"All I need is a sword." A ghost of a smile plays on Jiang Cheng's lips, the first real smile he saw since he reunited with his siblings. Wei Wuxian pushes his shoulder, finally feeling Jiang Cheng's knuckle connect with his arm. "Burn me some paper money, would you!" 

Jiang Cheng takes an arrow and presses his thumb to the tip. "Not if you go dying on me like an idiot. I know jie spoils you, but I won't be so easy, you know?" He's quick to deflect affection, being wholly unused to the concept. Even discussing Wei Wuxian's afterlife, their conversations shift so naturally. He can almost pretend it was just like a year ago when things were simpler. 

He watches Jiang Cheng draw his arm back, lining his arrow with the target against the wind blowing against them. The arrow lands not far from where Wei Wuxian shot his. Neither reaches the center of the target, but it doesn't matter anymore. There are plenty of arrows left to shoot while they have the chance to mess around. Wei Wuxian can rest assured that for now, he still has his brother with him.

They spend their afternoon shooting arrows together, readying their minds for the final days of the Sunshot Campaign. Life would not be so easy afterward. As if it ever was.

Chapter Text

In the years following the Sunshot Campaign, the veterans would never really sleep well. Wei Wuxian was haunted by the memories of the consecutive events leading to the rebellion, as well as his captivity in the Burial Mounds. Jiang Cheng, eager to understand what he went through and perhaps a bit of a glutton for pain, tried to pry the three months out of him. Even for Wei Wuxian, who normally found it impossible to keep a secret, kept silent about these times. It was better for his martial siblings not to know what he went through. From the first moment he and Jiang Cheng embraced at Lanling, some things would need to be discussed. 

The understanding that Wei Wuxian did what he thought was right to protect his family, even at the cost of pieces of himself, came hand in hand with the responsibility for unexpected results. He and Lan Wangji had yet to talk again since they reunited in Yiling chasing Wen Chao. Wei Wuxian wasn’t keen to repeat it. He might have been an idiot, but he wasn’t stupid. Demonic cultivation was a taboo for the cultivational world, and he was already overstepping the line by miles. It was inevitable that what was exploited in the war would be feared in peace. He knew that as long as he was protected by the slowly rebuilding Jiang sect, Wei Wuxian would be relatively unbothered. As for his lack of cultivation, like Jiang Cheng, he didn’t need the pity. Those who needed to know, knew. 

His position, despite being well protected by the Jiang clan, was still subjected to the gossip and ill words of other sects. The things he had done were questioned over and over as if it would change a single thing. Wei Wuxian didn’t like the killing, but the control was the one thing he was always scared of losing. No matter how often he claimed he could handle it, he really understood very little about his body’s limits. He carried on arrogantly, thickening his face against the cultivational sects and defying the age-old laws. 

Jiang Yanli, for the most part, leads the sects into a swift peace where certain men found the change to be quite awkward. Things could never return to normal. Everyone had lost someone in the war. Childhoods were not exempt and all of a sudden, Wei Wuxian was nearing twenty at an alarming pace. Several birthdays missed, passed by in favor of more important things. The violence forced the entire generation of juniors to grow up rapidly. For the most part, Wei Wuxian wasn't sure who he was anymore. 

Summer turned to fall, and the tips of the trees were just beginning to fall. In Yunmeng, no one quite knew what to do about the relationship between Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan after his explosive confession complicated things. As sect leader, Jiang Yanli was unable to wed the heir of another sect after her sudden promotion. By the time weeks had passed since Phoenix Mountain, everyone had had quite enough of Yanli's sadness. But what else could they do? Nevertheless, Wei Wuxian dutifully sent her letters regardless of his feelings for the Jin. Whatever the unofficial couple was planning, none except for the two of them were permitted to know.

Lotus Pier was beginning to feel the effects of fall. Certainly, it was warmer than Gusu, whose mountainous region found a colder climate. Wei Wuxian preferred the cold than the heat, which was unfortunate for Yunmeng's warmer summers. With a higher preference to the chill, he was the only one who wasn't starting to bundle up, of which he found a lot of glee in. He still went out on the boats across the lake Lotus Pier was situated on just to enjoy the air. Dipping his fingers into the choppy waters, his fingers combed through until his knuckles were cold to the bone. With the gathering clouds above him, it would later rain. 

Somewhere in the distance, Wei Wuxian happened to notice a white dot standing on a glinting sword. His heart ached, still hoping it would have been purple like all those months ago. And yet… and yet. 

"Lan Zhan!" Brightness found his voice, cheerfully waving his arm to eye figures gradual recognition. Silently, Lan Wangji steered himself onto Wei Wuxian's boat. He couldn't help but admire the grace in which he landed. "What are you here for?" Wei Wuxian grabs his wrist, pulling him. He'd meant it as a playful gesture, but the action caught him off guard, and he stumbled and practically fell onto the bench beside him. Wei Wuxian laughs, throwing his head back with an ugly snort. "Lan Zhan!" His voice pitches sharply with his delight. "Such grace! The boat isn't even rocking that much." With burning ears, Lan Wangji could only scowl. How long Lan Wangji was suddenly so expressive, Wei Wuxian hadn't noticed. 

"Wei Ying," He says, frustrated. "That is enough." To his credit, at least he hadn't fallen overboard. Although, the image of a soaking wet Lan Wangji had him back in hysterics.

After several minutes, Wei Wuxian was finally able to regain his composure with Lan Wangji sitting next to him waiting surprisingly patiently. If neither of them could get along, Wei Wuxian didn't know why he was wasting his time with him. With hard slaps to Lan Wangji's shoulder, he finally takes a couple of shuddering gasps. The white-clad man scoots away from his grasp, unable to go very far due to the small size of the boat. So, he had to suffer the hard smacks of his hand. 

"What are you doing here?" He asks at a much more reasonable tone. 

"Passing through." Lan Wangji says.

He couldn't imagine why he would have much of a reason to pass through Yunmeng. Grinning, he leans into his personal space. "You sure it isn't to see me?" The blush on the lobes of his ears sent Wei Wuxian into another fit of laughter. 

"No, no!" He wheezes, grabbing Lan Wangji's arm when he stood to leave. "I'll stop! I'll stop!" Wei Wuxian pats his arm placatingly. "Honestly, Lan Zhan. You know I'm never serious." He shakes his head with a quiet tsk and a raised hand in fealty. But Lan Wangji wasn't making any moves to leave, so he was counting it as a win. 

A moment of silence passes through before Lan Wangji speaks up again. "Where is your sword?" 

Wei Wuxian turns his head forward. "Hm?" He pretends to think. "Oh, I left it at home. I don't need it." For a second, Lan Wangji looks like.je wants to say something, but Wei Wuxian continues before he can get a word in. "Say, Lan Zhan, let's go hunting. There are still some quails left in the area. Oh, but you don't eat meat." He puts. "No matter, you can just come along." He doesn’t have a bow and arrow to catch quails. Lan Wangji decides it was an excuse to get them alone together and isn’t quite sure what to make of it. Then, he turns his attention back to the man sitting in the boat with him with an expectant look on his face. 

He looks like he wants to say no, but surprises Wei Wuxian by nodding. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Wei Wuxian cheers and stands back up to start steering the boat with the long oar on the back.

The area he takes him to is a forested place several hours away from Yunmeng. Flying by sword, it would have only taken them twenty minutes to reach the place. But because Wei Wuxian hadn’t bothered to take Suibian off his sword rack, they had no choice but to take the boat all the way up through a river feeding the lake. Lan Wangji wasn’t familiar with the area, considering he’d never been to the area surrounding Lotus Pier. It was a beautiful place, with orange and red leaves piling in a thin layer across the ground. 

Wei Wuxian hops off to drag the boat onto the shore, all the while fussing over Lan Wangji getting his white robes wet and muddy from the river. Venturing further, he finally understands why he took them to this particular place. 

A well-worn path weaves around trees and bushes as wide as Wei Wuxian walks leads to a wide clearing with a single tree planted in the middle. Its wide trunk could fill the braziers of several households for months and its branches reach almost to the tips of the surrounding trees. Despite the space between them, the leaves seem to cover the sky like an umbrella. But it was Wei Wuxian who Lan Wangji noticed first. The skip he’s so used to in his feet returned, after months of watching them drag across the soil during the Sunshot Campaign. When Wei Wuxian turns to see if he’s still following, the sun shines through his hair like a halo. His eyes lighten when he sees him just a few paces behind, and he isn’t sure if it is because of the sun catching the flecks of his iris’. It isn’t enough to fill out the hollowness of his cheeks, but the sunlight has a way of softening the hard edges of his face. For just one moment, before Wei Wuxian turns away, he looks almost like himself again. He looks like he did when they first met on the roof in Gusu.

Ignoring the cracking of leaves beneath his boots, Wei Wuxian dives backward onto a pile of leaves. He doesn’t disappear entirely beneath the pile, it barely even looks like it would break a fall would be remotely comfortable. But it hadn’t stopped Wei Wuxian from falling into it. 

He’s rubbing his backside when Lan Wangji finally closes the distance. There’s a grin on his face that is hardly deterred by the pain from his fall and, at his insistence, finds himself sitting in the leaves next to Wei Wuxian. 

Wei Wuxian settles on his back with his arms crossed behind his head. There isn’t much sky to look at, but the gathering wind creates enough of an illusion of sparkling lights. Lan Wangji has to turn his eyes away from the splotches of light dancing across his face and hair fanned out underneath him to look at the treeline. It really is a beautiful sight with the afternoon sun setting the autumn leaves afire. 

“Uncle Jiang said he and my dad used to come here.” Wei Wuxian says. “Before he married Madam Yu and became sect leader.” It was strange to imagine Jiang Fengmian as a young man when all they’d known him as was the sect leader of Jiang- an older man aging through life gracefully. Nothing like his own father had been, especially not at the time of his death. Lan Wangji had even less of an idea of what Wei Changze had looked like. No one had drawn a portrait of him. As a servant, there had been no need. Wei Changze’s relationship to the late sect leader had meant little in terms of rank, and Lan Wangji forgot that Wei Wuxian was a servant’s son. 

Wei Wuxian is still staring upwards, gaze distant. “He took me here, once. Right after he took me in after my parents died. Sometimes I come here when I need a break from the world.”

Inwardly, Lan Wangji wonders what would cause Wei Wuxian to want to escape from everything. 

“Wei Ying,”

His eyes flicker to his face and Lan Wangji finally notices the deep bags underneath them. When did he sleep last? “Come to Gusu with me.” 

He realizes too late it was the wrong thing to say. Wei Wuxian’s eyes narrow, a scowl appearing on his face as he abruptly sits up. “Again with this? I thought I already told you.” He says. Lan Wangji bites his lip, but Wei Wuxian isn’t looking at him anymore. He stands and begins to march across the clearing, leaving Lan Wangji scrambling to follow after him. He disappears within the trees, somehow swallowed by shadows. 

Lan Wangji doesn’t know when it got so cloudy, or when the sun started to set so quickly. They aren’t returning to the boat, though he has a feeling he doesn’t want to ride back with him anymore. If they hadn’t had a strained relationship before the Sunshot Campaign, it was now. 

A drop of cold water hits his cheek and rolls down his chin. Then another. And then another. The rain that threatened the area up north finally found it’s way down to Yunmeng. In a matter of moments, they’re drenched to the bone. 

He sees a flash of red and follows it. Lan Wangji catches up easily, despite Wei Wuxian’s deliberate attempts to lose him. “Wei Ying.” Wei Wuxian jerks himself from his grasp, spinning to face him. He reminds him of a feral cat with his teeth bared. “We must go.” Return to Lotus Pier and out of the rain, settle their differences later. 

Wei Wuxian looks up to the sky like he hadn’t noticed it was raining. The anger melts from his body with each drop of rain and he looks back. He just looks sad. “You’re right. Hey, Hanguang-jun, give me a lift back.” He says. “We shouldn’t boat in this weather.” As if flying were any safer. 

He takes a slight step back and suddenly Wei Wuxian is falling. He hadn’t seen the ground shift down with his heightened emotions, and the loose earth hadn’t helped at all. In a matter of seconds, he was rolling down the hill and taking half the wet hill with him. With a surprised shout, Lan Wangji stumbles down the hill after him. 

Naturally, Wei Wuxian reaches the bottom of the hill before him, slumped over a rock next to a tree. He’s sitting up by the time he slides to the bottom, clutching his head. “Wei Ying?!” Wei Wuxian bats away his hand when he tries to inspect his head, pressing thin fingers back to his temple. 

“Ugh, I’m fine, I’m fine.” He says. He has a pained expression on his face, his eyebrows knitted together and his lips drawn together into a thin line. Without being able to check his hairline, Lan Wangji cannot see if there are any open wounds. From what he remembered from Gusu, Wei Wuxian hadn’t been shy about whining about his aches and pains. He’d overexaggerated and complained when he had a minor injury and wasn’t totally incapacitated. It felt odd for him to be so reclusive and hesitant to touch now. Wei Wuxian really had changed.

Wei Wuxian’s hair was plastered in thick chunks across his cheeks and forehead where dirt and leaves hadn’t gotten snagged on his descent. It was too intimate for him to reach out to push away the strands, and he keeps his worried hands to himself. After a long moment, Wei Wuxian stands with the help of the nearby tree for support. 

“There’s a cave nearby,” He says, still rubbing his temple. “We can sit there and wait it out.” Though, neither of them were really sure how long the rain would last. If they waited for too long, eventually the Jiang sect would send people out to look for them. Look for Wei Wuxian, at least, since Lan Wangji technically wasn’t actually supposed to be there. 

With the pace of a man who seemed to have trouble focusing, the two cultivators made their way farther down the hill to the cave Wei Wuxian mentioned. It wasn’t a large cave, covering perhaps only fifty feet or so on all sides. All they needed was a place large enough to escape from the rain. Setting Wei Wuxian down on the ground, he turns to gather enough wood to start a small fire. Despite everything being completely soaked, Lan Wangji is able to channel enough spiritual energy into a blank talisman to keep a fire going. For once he is thankful for waterproofing the talismans he brought along with him this time. 

Wei Wuxian closes his eyes, listening to the rain and the water drip from inside the cave. If it hadn’t been for the rain pouring outside, he would have thought he was back in the cave with the Xuanwu of Slaughter. There are no celestial beasts lurking on the other side of a cavern, no nails raking across his body or screaming in his ear at the excess of resentful energy. It’s deceptively peaceful and he doesn’t know what to call it. 

He doesn’t realize he’s shivering until Lan Wangji shakes his knee lightly. There’s a narrowness in his gaze that could just as easily be mistaken for annoyance as it could concern. Wei Wuxian isn’t quite sure how Lan Xichen is able to read his younger brother so thoroughly. 

An hour passes and the pain in his head only seems to get worse, throbbing with each beat of his heart until he rolls over on his side in an attempt to soothe the ache. Gentle fingers are pressed into his temple, feeding a warm stream of spiritual energy through his skin. It does little to completely remove the pounding headache, but it eases the other symptoms. Wei Wuxian dozes, forgetting for a while where he was and what he was doing. He wasn’t paying attention to the things Lan Wangji was asking him, but he didn’t know if they mattered. He couldn’t get himself to focus. “I’m fine.” He grumbles, and the hand retreats.

Between the fog and confusion, he drifts off almost asleep. Something warm presses against his lips, but he doesn’t bother to open his eyes. It’s gentle and soft, not commanding and he almost doesn’t notice the warmth of another body hovering over him. It’s a kiss, he realizes almost when it’s too late. Wei Wuxian leans into it a little, only to be pressed back into the skin warmed surface of the cave. He couldn’t imagine why Lan Wangji would just sit around while someone kissed him. He couldn’t even remember what they were doing in the first place but in the end, it didn’t really matter. Long fingers cup his cheek in a gentle embrace. He was too tired to open his eyes or to be scandalized over the boldness of the strange person kissing him. For his first kiss to be taken in such a place...

The ghost of his first kiss lingers until he drifts off completely. Warm in his chest, he forgot how much his head hurt. 

The family sound of fisherman and of Yunmeng woke him. If it hadn't been for the shouting, Wei Wuxian would have been lulled back into a restful state by the rocking of the boat. He opens his eyes to the sun glaring down at him. With one arm stretched out over his forehead, he carefully sits up. Somewhere behind him, Jiang Cheng is yelling and he doesn't realize he's yelling at him until the boat rocks with his forceful step. 

"Wei Wuxian!" Jiang Cheng's voice is shrill enough to hurt his ears. "Where the fuck were you?" When Wei Wuxian simply blinks, his brother tsks and pinches his cheek. "Look at you? We were worried sick and you're at the docks napping. You deserve this sunburn." 

Wei Wuxian cries in protest at the abuse of his poor, roasted face. "Jiang Cheng," he whines. "I was at that place with Lan Zhan." He turns, askance on his lips and realizes that he's very much alone. 

"Lan Wangji?" Jiang Cheng scoffs. "What the hell are you on? Lan Wangji hasn't been invited to come to Yunmeng. Why would he come here?"

“But he…”

Truth be told, he had no idea why Lan Wangji would go so far out of his way to visit Lotus Pier. It hadn’t occurred to him that he hadn’t heard of him coming at all. No sect leader or their family would ever show up to another sect unannounced, especially not the rule follower Lan Wangji. Whatever his reasons for coming were, it was uncommon for such a thing to happen. He still had yet to address what happened in the cave last night. It wasn’t possible for another person to have suddenly appeared to take advantage of him without Lan Wangji doing anything to stop it as he’d originally thought. Which left him with only one other option that could have happened. 

It was Lan Wangji who kissed him in the cave. 

Wei Wuxian immediately dismisses the idea with the faintest of laughs. The whole thing must have just been a headache induced daydream. Indeed, every time Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji met, they always left after an argument. After all, what proof does he have that the night before had actually happened? For all he knew, he could have just slept right in the pier under the marginal cover from the rain. 

“But he what?” Jiang Cheng prompts, hovering close over his shoulder as they march right back to Lotus Pier. 

Wei Wuxian waves his hand in an attempt to shoo away his worried brother. “Nothing, nevermind! I fell asleep and ended up back here. Why are you so worried?” He asks. “Shouldn’t you be helping shijie with sect stuff?” 

Unable to put up with his attitude any longer, Jiang Cheng breezes past him. “We already finished. Unlike you, jie and I get our work done.” Wei Wuxian pouts but doesn’t argue. 

Around them, the familiar people of Yunmeng and the unfamiliar disciples and servants greet the young masters of Jiang. He’d been so eager to return to the apparent normalcy of home, he never realized that it wasn’t just him who’d changed. Wei Wuxian really did think that only he was the one who was different now. The people he’d grown up with, the young disciples and the servants who never greeted anyone properly were all gone. The blood that spilled over the carved floors of Lotus Pier might have been long washed away, but the mark they made never would be. Only three people remembered them. Who would remember their old friends when they were gone? 

Holding open the doors to their home, he turns to Jiang Cheng. “Say, where is she, anyway?” He asks. 

“Where else would she be?” Jiang Cheng answers. “There are only so many places she would go.” 

Jiang Yanli wasn’t in the kitchens, her room, or the throne room. He found her sitting in the ancestral hall. Cheered by finally finding her, Wei Wuxian bounces over to sit next to her in front of her parents’ plaques. She smiles when she sees him. 

“A-Xian, was there something you needed.” She asks. 

Wei Wuxian shakes his head. “No, I just wanted to laze around.” He says, then lays his head on his lap right after he spoke.

“Is that why your face is so red? How old is Xianxian?” Her eyes twinkle playfully despite the faint bags under them. 

“Three.” He holds up three fingers, holding them just in front of his face. Jiang Yanli carefully threads her fingers through his hair, waiting for him to prompt himself. “Actually,” He says. “I wanted to ask you something.” 

“Oh? Go on.” She says. 

“Why would someone like another? The loving kind.” 

She pauses for a moment, then continues to pet his hair. “Do you like someone? What kind of person is this? They must be very special.” 

“No,” He sighs. “I don’t want to get married and get tied down like that. That’s too stressful and just like chaining me down.” 

“Are you sure you’re really three years old?” Jiang Yanli muses. “I think you’re one year old.” 

Wei Wuxian sits up, pouting. “No! I really am three. What should I do, shijie?” Behind them, a new voice spoke up. 

“You could eat the soup that I, your dear brother brought in for you.” Jiang Cheng steps inside the ancestral hall. There was nothing in his hands. “I was so nice and poured it for you. You can thank me by eating it outside.” 

He skipped to where the promised bowl was, only to turn right back around in anguish. “Where’s the meat? Give it back!” 

“I ate it. Do you really want it back?” Jiang Cheng shoves him aside when he gets too close. “You asked for it.” As if daring Jiang Cheng to actually return the meat he ate, Wei Wuxian holds up the bowl. 

Jiang Yanli quickly stood up and took both their arms to stop the incoming argument. “I can always make another pot, there’s no need to argue.” Lotus rib soup was Wei Wuxian’s favorite, the first meal he shared with the Jiang siblings where he really felt like he was at home. But unwilling to make Jiang Yanli work harder than she needed to, he hastily protests by shoveling down the remaining lotus roots and broth. 

It reminded him of the tree he climbed after being chased out of Jiang Cheng’s room. They might not share a room anymore, but he could still imagine that night clearly. Leaving the bowl where it would be properly cleaned, Wei Wuxian wanders across the training grounds and back to the docks where street vendors always sold their food. He follows his nose to a savory smelling stall. 

The man who stood there was a man in his thirties roasting up several sticks of fish covered in a healthy amount of seasoning. He loved the fatty comfort foods of his home, spending more than his share of allowance on snacks and alcohol. “This looks good.” He praises, trotting over to the side of the vendor. 

“Young master Wei!” He greets. “I have plenty today, I’ll give you some.” 

Wei Wuxian shakes his head. “I’ll take one, but you should still charge me for it.” He holds his hand out eagerly, the other digging into his coin purse to pay the man. In the corner of his eye sat a figure huddled in clothes so muddy, it nearly changed the color of the cloth from red to brown. They curled in on themselves, as if they were cold, only to look up when Wei Wuxian started speaking to the vendor. 

At once Wei Wuxian recognizes the person. How could he forget the person who helped him in the past? Although it had been a failure, he would never forget Wen Qing. 

“It’s you!” He cries and rushes over to where she sat. She looked thin and exhausted. Without even thinking, he shoves the fish on a stick into her hands and didn’t even ask anything of her until he made sure she ate half of it. 

“Please,” She says. “You have to help me. I don’t know where else to go.” Seeing the pain and desperation on normally a prideful woman, his heart knew something was terribly wrong. 

“I will. I’ll help you.” Wei Wuxian takes hold of one of her hands and tries not to see the blood from the failed operation on her fingers. 

Wen Qing takes a gulping breath, licking the grease from her chapped lips. “It’s Wen Ning.”

Chapter Text

Jiang Yanli's pinched face bore a deep hole into his forehead, staring him down until he has to look at something else. He chooses to look at his feet. In the moment, she's a spitting image of the Violet Spider, a phoenix in her own right. Zi Lian is nowhere to be seen, perhaps back inside with Jiang Cheng. After all, there's no need for her to accompany the sect leader to confront him despite the reputation he's acquired.

"A-Xian." She says. Her voice betrays her face, and he realizes she isn't nearly as mad at his social blunder as he thought. He had, in many words, threatened all the major sect leaders and everyone inside the conference room. Wei Wuxian didn't feel sorry about it when he didn't care for many of the people in the room. But the excuses he tried to conjure fell just short of his lips, and he feels his shoulders slump in defeat.

"Shijie…" It sounds like an admission of guilt when in hindsight he knew there could have been a better way of getting the information he needed. Truth be told, he couldn't stand Jin Zixun in the two times they interacted with each other. His distaste for him couldn't be more obvious.

Instead, it was the worry that underlined her sternness. Wei Wuxianm saw it in her eyebrows and the way her brow wrinkled a little, just like Jiang Cheng. From inside her sleeves, her fingers fidget, lacing together and unlacing. Wei Wuxian waits for her to figure out what she wants to say and ignores the rising urge to flee.

"What are you planning?" She asks, finally. The sect leader in her would naturally want to know. The elder sister wants to protect the younger brothers, and Wei Wuxian finds that the tension leaks out of his shoulders just a little bit.

He opens his mouth, then sighs. "There's a debt I need to repay."

Jiang Yanli hardly looks surprised. Inside the conference room, he'd very specifically mentioned Wen Ning. She knew why he was so interested in him after everything that had happened between him and Jiang Cheng. But to bring it up so boldly in front of everyone else… "A-Xian," Her voice is softer this time, more of the worry shows on her face. There seemed to be something else she wanted to say but shakes her head instead. "Be careful."

He leaves Jiang Yanli standing at the steps of Koi Tower and doesn't breathe a word of their conversation to Wen Qing. He doesn't know what he might find if Lanling Jin and the other sects are so persistent in making the rest of the Wen clan disappear.

It's raining when they reach Qiongqi Path, well past sunset and cold enough to chill to the bone. Wen Qing has his cloak, though it does little to keep the rain off of her when the rain-soaked it through earlier. It clung to her like a second pair of skin but she hardly seemed to notice. Rows of barely standing shacks stood off to one side for the war prisoners. He knew that this place was under the control of Lanling Jin, where all the leftover Wens were placed. The formerly magnificent place paled to what he saw now as he walked through ankle-deep water.

Wen Qing runs to an elderly woman holding a tattered flag. Wei Wuxian could barely recognize the old Wen sect symbol etched into the fabric. Atop her shoulders was a toddler who paid them no mind despite the cold and wet.

"Granny!" Wen Qing grasps the woman's shoulders in recognition. The elderly woman is slow to see Wen Qing in front of her and opens her mouth to say something. She stops when she sees who stands behind her. "Where's A-Ning? Where's Uncle Four and everyone?"

Instead of answering, Granny looks down into the valley lit by torches. Jin cultivators rode on horses, commanding the prisoners to work. Wen Qing dashes into the valley, calling out for Wen Ning and running to every prisoner who had the same silhouette as her brother.

A horse blocks Wen Qing's path before she can get the chance to go very far. "Hey, you! Who lets you run around here?" Impatiently, she tries to move around the horse only to be blocked by the cultivator.

"Please, I'm here to find someone?" She says desperately. "I'm looking for Wen Ning."

"I don't care who you're looking for." The cultivator pulls the sword from his waist, waving it around to force her back. "If you don't leave-"

By now, Wei Wuxian caught up with her. Upon realizing who was with her, the cultivator cuts himself off, immediately changing his attitude. "Madam, a lot of people run away," He says, wringing his hands together. "It happens quite a lot."

"He wouldn't have! He has to be here."

"Then please, take a look around. If he isn't here, then there's nothing that we can do." The inspector sweeps his arm around the expanse of the valley. Wen Qing continues to search, calling out for Wen Ning as if she were mad. Wei Wuxian watched this for a little while and then ran his thumb along the neck of his flute.

"You say everyone is here?" The inspector nods. "Then what about the rest?" The rest, meaning the dead. Wei Wuxian pulls Chengqing from his belt and readies himself to play.

"Wait!"

The inspector points to the shacks. "This one is for the ill. Check that one! We wouldn't dare kill a single person."

Wei Wuxian's eyes follow his finger to the shack with a hole in the roof. There was no door attached to the front and the windows were boarded shut with long planks of wood. If it weren't situated facing the bottom of the hill and at a slight angle, it would have flooded inside from the state of disrepair. Following Wen Qing inside, a single candle illuminated a single corner of the room. It wasn't a large hut, big enough to house two people and a medicine cabinet. Inside, there were four people, each one taking a spot on the floor and a single person on the bed. The medicine cabinet blocked half the door in an attempt to give the people inside the room to sleep without being rained. It is just covered enough to protect the medicine inside the cabinet. Wen Qing gasps when she sees the figure huddled on the floor.

"A-Ning! A-Ning!" She wails, stepping over the patient by the door to check on Wen Ning. He barely even moves, his short, wet breaths covered by the heavy rain. Still, she slumps with relief that he was still alive, despite being heavily injured.

Wei Wuxian crouches to inspect the other three people in the room. Each one of them is as cold to the touch as stone. All of them are gone, died sometime in the evening, and would not be cleared out by morning. He leaves Wen Qing inside the hut to gather him up and address his most pressing injuries.

"You wouldn't dare kill anyone?" Wei Wuxian dumps the body of the man who died by the door at the feet of the huddled Jin cultivators. "Not a single person? Or is it because Wen-dogs aren't people that you think it's an exception to let them die of exposure?" He laughs. "Did you really think I wouldn't be able to find out how someone died?"

The inspector practically falls off his horse, kneeling in the water at his feet. "Please, have mercy on us. Yunmeng and Lanling have a good relationship.

"Are you threatening me?" Wei Wuxian mocks, barely even bending his head to look down at him. "Perhaps I should summon their spirits and have them take revenge. Well? Whose fault is this?" He grips Chengqing, and the inspector cowers.

He pulls the hat from his head, trembling violently. "Of course, I wasn't threatening you. They died all on their own. It was no fault of ours."

Wei Wuxian knew this was wrong, and lets his arms fall to his sides. "I'm done being patient with you." At this point, Wen Qing emerges from the hut with Wen Ning gathered in her arms. Someone tugs on Wei Wuxian's sleeve.

"Master Wei. In that shack, I think the people you're looking for are there."

He doesn't bother fiddling with the lock, instead, he kicks the door down. Inside, a little more than a dozen or so people huddled together. All of them jumped when he came crashing inside. "Who are the cultivators who came with Wen Ning? We're leaving." One of the figures called out to Wen Qing when they see her in the door, only to cry in dismay at the state of Wen Ning.

Quietly, the group of cultivators shuffle out of the shack and follow Wei Wuxian to where a group of horses stood inside a small stable. He helps the elderly woman and the toddler onto a horse and turns to Wen Qing, who is still carrying her brother in her arms. Despite his height, she doesn't appear at all bothered by how much he weighs and holds him as if it means nothing to her.

"How is he?" He asks, speaking loudly enough to be heard over the rain.

Wen Qing's expression is a rapidly crumbling mask of self-control. "He's stable enough." She says. "But… he won't… last very long without proper medical care." There would be no one in the area who would willingly treat a Wen, not after the Sunshot Campaign. Wei Wuxian chews on his lip.

"I will take Wen Ning to Lotus Pier with me." He says. "Lead the others to the forest in the outskirts of Yunmeng and wait for me there."

Wei Wuxian takes the limp form of Wen Ning from Wen Qing. She levels him with an unreadable look. Her hand lingered on Wen Ning's limp one as she searches Wei Wuxian's face for trickery. Finding none, she lets go and mounts her horse. It is not their first act of trust between strangers, but somehow, this one seems more profound.

Jiang Yanli is not in the throne room, and she's not in the kitchens either. Wei Wuxian finds her in the part of Lotus Pier that docks into the lake in the private areas where they used to take their meals together as a family in good weather. It's late enough at night that no servants are awake to see him stagger in with a visibly ill Wen Ning. Part of him wonders why she's up so late until he realizes that she must have been waiting for him.

The wooden planks creak under his feet with each step. He doesn't have to call out to get her attention. Jiang Yanli looks tired despite the perfect order of her hair and clothes. There's a gold hairpiece in the shape of a butterfly that hadn't been there before. It's delicately made and expensive. Jin Zixuan is in Yunmeng.

She opens her mouth, only to close it without saying anything. Jiang Yanli stands to rush over to him. Her fingers check him for injuries, pressing against his forehead with the back of her hand. "Who…?" There are a lot of questions floating around in her eyes, that much Wei Wuxian can tell.

"He's-" He lowers his voice despite no one being around. "Wen Ning. He helped me rescue Jiang Cheng." And helped Wen Qing transfer his golden core to him. "I promised," He says. "I can't take him anywhere else."

By the grace of the gods, Jiang Yanli lets a Wen back into the threshold of Lotus Pier despite knowing everything they had done to her and her family.

They take Wen Ning to her quarters. It's the quietest and least likely to be interrupted. The sect leader's rooms are always the most spacious, more extensive than Wei Wuxian's own as the head disciple. She has her own wing, even though she preferred to keep her old room. Jiang Cheng insisted she take it, and they are both so, so weak to Jiang Cheng.

She lays him on her bed and makes no faces when his blood and rain-soaked body seep into the mattress and sheets. They would have to throw them out later. "What happened to him?" She asks, peeling back the old robes.

"I don't know," He says honestly, moving and grabbing things as directed while she fusses. Jiang Yanli may not be the prestigious healer that Wen Qing is, but her skills are enough to keep someone alive. "We found him like this." Jiang Yanli pauses and turns to him.

"What do you mean, found him like this?" Alarm slips into her voice. She was never meant to be in this situation, to know first hand the horrors of war and its aftereffects. The implication of what he tells her is shocking enough. She was there when he left to find Wen Ning, and she knew how it reflected on the Jin clan just as much as he did.

Wei Wuxian doesn't answer. The Jiang sect leader spends her attention on keeping someone alive.

The light in Jiang Yanli's rooms gradually turns from warm candlelight to cold tones of early morning before Wen Ning is considered stable. The fever that had accompanied him to Yunmeng barely broke an hour before, though it was unclear how long he'd had it. Wen Ning barely escaped death, and Wei Wuxian wouldn't have known what he would have done if they got to Qiongqi Path too late.

Jiang Yanli washes her hands in a bowl of stale water leftover from earlier in the night before he arrived. The water turns a faint brown color, and she isn't able to get the blood clean from where it cakes under her nails. She takes the pins and ties out of her hair and lets it fall loose against her back. Each little trinket is placed carefully on the vanity, where she keeps her hairbrush and makeup. Wei Wuxian takes the comb and gently eases out the tangles for her.

"Where is Wen Qing?" She asks.

He glances at her reflection in the bronze mirror. The Jiang siblings are the only people Wei Wuxian feels that he can trust completely yet, he hesitates to tell her where he has the Wen hidden. She sees the hesitation in his face and takes his hand.

"Outside Yunmeng. Once Wen Ning can travel, I'll take them to Yiling where I can protect them." It isn't that he doesn't want to rely on Jiang to protect the Wen remnants. Knowing their very recent history with the other sects, he can't allow his actions to drag the Jiang sect reputation through the mud.

Jiang Yanli turns in her chair. There's a steely look in her eyes. "Take them here. We can protect them together."

"Take who here?"

At the doorway stood Jiang Cheng, arms crossed and leaning against the door. His face is stony in an eerie reminder of Lan Wangji. Wei Wuxian takes his expression to mean he heard everything.

"Jiang Cheng…" Wei Wuxian lets Jiang Yanli's hair fall from his fingers. He sets the hairbrush aside, stalling.

Jiang Cheng strides forward. His expression slips more and more into an ugly scowl and barely contained fury. "After all this, you still want to protect the damn Wens?" He shoves a fist into Wei Wuxian's chest, pushing him backward with it. "Did you already forget what they did to us?" For once, he hadn't, he remembered everything.

He looks to the side. In this, Jiang Cheng sees hesitation and jumps back against him. "I can't fucking believe it. We fought them and won. They're paying for their crimes. Why do you always have to get involved, huh?" His voice gets louder with each word until he's shouting over his sister's protests and the ringing in Wei Wuxian's ears.

"A-Cheng," Jiang Yanli by now, has stood from the chair to tug urgently on his sleeves. He rips his arm from her grasp and backs away, furious disbelief was written all over his face.

It takes a moment for him to regain his composure, too shocked for words when he remembers that taking the Wens to Lotus Pier was Jiang Yanli's idea. "Jie, you're going along with this?" He doesn't wait for her to answer. "Fuck, no. Fuck this." He turns to Wei Wuxian. "Fuck you. I can't-what are you even thinking?" He struggles for words, scarlet faced and shaking. Without even thinking, he says, "It's your fault mom and dad are dead!"

Wei Wuxian and Jiang Yanli both recoil as if burned. Guilt settles into Wei Wuxian's face, making it burn and then freeze.

"Jiang Cheng!" Jiang Yanli snaps, her face drawn into a type of fury neither of them saw from her before. Jiang Cheng takes a step back, before taking more resolute steps. He doesn't know how to apologize, so instead, he turns on his heel and storms away.

In a flurry of purple robes, Jiang Yanli wraps Wei Wuxian into a tight hug. "It's not your fault," She says. Pressing her face into his shoulder, she can feel him shake. Jiang Yanli looks up to see his pallid face. His eyes are closed, but she can feel the emotion drawing him tight. "It was never your fault, A-Xian."

Silently, they both know he doesn't believe that. He doesn't need to say it, despite all the things he has done for Jiang Cheng in the past, he doesn't expect anything else in return. Jiang Cheng isn't wrong. For tall the Wens have done to them in the past, no one can blame him for turning his eyes away from the Wens he's trying to protect. And it isn't even because he's attached to any of them.

"Let A-Cheng be angry. The decision to take the Wens in was my idea. Let me deal with him." She pulls away, both hands lingering on his arms. "There is an empty wing on the west side of the pier that will fit all of them. Take the largest boat."

Wei Wuxian returns with the Wens later that evening. Jiang Cheng does not.

Chapter Text

The following weeks were among the hardest in Wei Wuxian's life. The love for his brother suffocated by the loyalty that pulled his need to do right by others. After Jiang Cheng stormed from Lotus Pier, he buried the shame that he betrayed the memories of Jiang Fengmian and Yu Ziyuan so deep he almost forgot it was there.

None of the Jiang sect disciples agreed to take in the Wen remnants, who cloistered themselves in the guest rooms until Jiang Yanli could figure out what to do with them. It was for their protection after sitting on the brink of death at the hands of the Jins. Wen Ning was recovering, but the progress was slow and impeded by the infection that still wanted to claim his life. One of the darker thoughts in Wei Wuxian's mind was the wonder of what would have happened if he let Wen Ning die that night- if things wouldn't have turned so sour with Jiang Cheng.

In all, they'd lost about twelve disciples, and it would only be so long before the word would reach the other sects that they were harboring Wen fugitives. Jin Zixuan, who had taken one look at the starved, exhausted, and scared Wens, turned and left for Lanling without so much as finishing packing. He left his servants to finish, and in the morning, Wei Wuxian saw them off. And then he'd turned to Jiang Yanli and proceeded to complain about his unhelpfulness until she'd stopped him.

Still, for a sect that was still rebuilding after the massacre, losing a dozen disciples was a severe blow to the sect. The evils committed by the Wen sect still sat fresh in everyone's memories, and both Wei Wuxian and Jiang Yanli anticipated extreme resistance to her decision. Jiang Cheng leaving was just the beginning.

The Wens took over a small wing in the most secluded part of Lotus Pier. It was still half rebuilt, but there were plenty of rooms for them to share without having to worry about the rain or the weather. Because most of them were elderly, Wei Wuxian had extra blankets given to them, sacrificing some of his things to bring some comfort. For now, they would be safe under Jiang Yanli's protection. How long it would last would entirely depend on the defected Jiang disciples and Jin Zixuan. Wei Wuxian didn't like him much as it was, and already hated how much power he held over them simply because he knew what they were doing. Jiang Yanli knew more than what she let on, but even he couldn't help but feel anxious despite her calm facade.

The Wen wing sat quietly over several days while the sect leader worked to convince the remaining sect members to allow the Wens to stay. And because he trusted no one else, Wei Wuxian spent much of that time with them in cramped quarters. Mostly out of concern for their safety.

Unwilling to be split up farther, the Wens crowded into the largest of the rooms in their wing. They had nothing but the clothes on their back and what Jiang Yanli gave them to wear. The conversations never went louder than a whisper, so scared of punishment.

Wei Wuxian slips inside the room, drawing the doors shut behind him, met with the full force of something barreling into his legs. He looks to see Wen Yuan clinging to his leg, peering up at him in pale blue, a bright grin on his face.

"Gege!" He shouts, cheerful despite the somber atmosphere from the adults. "Are you here to play with me?" Wen Yuan rocks back and forth on his heels, barely swaying him.

Wei Wuxian gathers the toddler into his arms, resting him on his hip. "Play what? I just got here, and you already want to play?" He shakes his head. At least Wen Yuan had started to gain weight. He was already beginning to feel heavier against his body. Jiang Yanli would ever let a child starve under her watch.

The toddler grabs thick chunks of his hair in his little hands, moving them around as if playing with dolls in a game only he seemed to know the rules. "Have you been good for Granny?" Wei Wuxian asks, gently prying fingers from his hair. The boy nods and squirms in his grip, searching the front of his robes for hidden sweets from Jiang Yanli, who couldn't visit as often as she wanted. He laughs and pulls one out for him, occupying his hands and mouth with the treat.

"Wei Wuxian," Wen Qing steps into his view, and she takes Wen Yuan from him. "We need to talk." He nods, follows her into a side room where several of the oldest of the Wens made their space. Granny, Uncles One, and Two, and Wen Ning sat around a low table with a teacup. Wen Yuan latches himself onto Granny when placed down, only to be shooed away back to the main room. Wei Wuxian sits next to Wen Qing, already knowing where the conversation would lead. Of course, the conversation was about the former Yunmeng Jiang disciples. Even a servant held more power over them in the game of life and death in sect politics. How long would it be until the other three sects came banging on their door?

Wen Qing doesn't pour him a cup of tea. He doesn't take a teacup. "Well?" She asks, eyes steely.

"Jin Zixuan says he can hold off the Jin clan as long as he can, shijie is working on the others. Now that all those disciples left Yunmeng, it's only a matter of time until the rest of the cultivational world finds out where we're hiding."

For the clan disciples who remained a sizably lower number than it had been a year ago, defending Lotus Pier against a second attack was a laughable thought. Not only was the sect still in the stages of rebuilding what got destroyed, but the newer disciples were also a mix of the very young and members of ruined minor sects. It would be years before any of the cultivational sects saw the numbers they once had at their peak. Even a fraction of the Nie or Jin sect could demolish them on their way to finish off the Wens. Now, Wei Wuxian was wondering if it had been a good idea to bring them here in the first place. Maybe then, his relationship with Jiang Cheng wouldn't have been as fractured as it is now.

"Shijie wants you all to join the Jiang sect." He says. Wen Qing sits up in her seat, ready to protest. "We can easily argue that it's to keep a close eye on you, keep you from reforming the Wen sect again." It was a ridiculous thought, however. Wen Qing and Wen Ning weren't fighters, but there was no guarantee that they wouldn't want to reform, Granny and the others were too old, and Wen Yuan was a baby. If he wanted to, a baby that could grow up to be the very thing that the cultivators feared. The group he saved weren't fighters. They would never be fighters. And yet, the Jins would always put that fear into the ears of others.

Wen Qing snorts. "What makes you so sure they would even listen to you?" After the grand display of power and shoving his impoliteness into all the sect leaders' faces, he wouldn't be surprised at all if anyone listened to him. He had threatened every one of them, and now he intends to ask another favor.

That was the part of the plan that he hadn't accounted for, mostly hoping that Jiang Yanli would figure it out for him. She always had been the one to get him out of his messes in the past. It never occurred to him there might be a time in which she wouldn't be able to help him anymore.

"Where else could you go?" Wei Wuxian asks.

They could change their names and marry into new families. Wen Yuan could grow up planting rice in long stretches of paddy fields with no knowledge of what his family had done to Wei Wuxian's family, to Lan Wangji's.

Thinking of Lan Wangji…. Wen Yuan turns into Wei Wuxian in that image, Lan Wangji walks down the fields with buckets of fish to eat the bugs and a switch to drive out the birds. What kind of life would that be? It would be a simple one, unburdened by the politics of the cultivation world.

"It's not a bad idea." Wen Ning spoke so quietly, and he was nearly unheard.

"It's a terrible idea. A-Ning, don't go along with it just because he said so." There's a scowl on her face, one that even Granny can't appease. But something else is there, written in the creases along with her mouth and between her brows. It's the same kind of face Jiang Cheng always made when he didn't want to admit he was considering something he was conflicted over. He knows she's feeling the idea. If everything worked out smoothly, no one could touch them. As Jiang disciples, he was keeping the Wen remnants would be entirely up to Jiang Yanli (and by proxy, Wei Wuxian).

Wei Wuxian, "Think about it, for A-Yuan, at least?"

Wen Qing looks to Wen Yuan tucked against Granny's chest and blissfully ignores the conversation in favor of the sweets. What could he understand about this conversation? He was a toddler, a baby who didn't deserve to have the trauma he'd just suffered.

"Our branch of the clan are only doctors, not warriors." She says firmly. "He should learn the sciences. His mother was a doctor, and his father was a doctor." There's a finality in it like his path sat paved from the moment his parents were born. He could be anything in the world. Why did his options have to be so limited?

"Why not both?" Asks Granny. If they stay here, he would have the best teachers in the world. But it would always come at the risk of the rest of the world seeing a young child practicing the sword and calling it the revival of the Wen sect. It would be hard to disprove, and it was terrifying.

After a moment, she sighs deeply through her nostrils. "Fine." She stands, "Clearly, I'm outnumbered here." Wen Qing marches to the doorway and opens it with what grace she had left. "Don't come crying to me when you don't know what to do."

Wei Wuxian left the Wen's borrowed wing as the sun began to dip under the horizon. The light bounced off the water in light ripples, casting their light along the pier's polished wood. He felt exposed, even here, in the place he was supposed to call home. The dock looked as close to what he remembered in his childhood as possible. It hadn't been just the library that burned, but everything down to the bone spilled ash into the lake. How could he pretend everything looked the same when only three people remembered what home looked like before?

The lake is cold underneath his fingers and just dark enough to distort his already contorted features on the water's surface. Wei Wuxian knew there was nothing in the water that could hurt him, and he could swim better than any of his peers. There was nothing in Lotus Pier's lake that could hurt him, and yet, in his mind's eye, he can see the shadow of himself reaching up and out of the lake to pull him under in a cruel mockery of the Burial Mounds.

"I don't know what to do."

The reflection of Wei Wuxian blinks. It doesn't have a mouth and cannot respond.

"Uncle Jiang, Madame Yu, I…" He leans close to his reflection. His hair scatters his reflection as it falls over his shoulders in curtains. "How do I protect someone who isn't here anymore?"

Wei Wuxian has only the wind to answer him. His reflection doesn't settle again.
"Quit making it sound like I died, asshole."

Wei Wuxian reels back, turning so quickly his hair slaps against his face wetly. He opens his mouth and sounds like he ate a particularly sour lotus seed. "Jiang Cheng?!"

Jiang Cheng, dressed in a blackish-purple robe, pops one hip out, arms crossed. "Are you going to mope all evening, or are you going to come inside and eat a-jie's dinner before it gets cold?"

Scrambling to his feet, Wei Wuxian wrings the water from his hair. "I thought you left?" He asks, happiness shading his chest orange. Jiang Cheng looks aside and frowns. Wei Wuxian slings one arm over his shoulder, watching how he sways a little.

"I did a lot of thinking." He studies the wood beneath their feet in great detail. "And… you and jiejie were right." Jiang Cheng heaves a sigh. When he can finally meet Wei Wuxian's eyes, his edges aren't so sharp anymore. "I'm still mad, but I trust you."

Wei Wuxian doesn't let go.