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Chapter Text

“Do you want revenge?”, the souls asked.

His body screamed, it burned, it shattered. His lungs were useless against the resentful energy filling his body, his throat rasped trying to keep screaming but nothing else was able to come out. His bones and limbs did not answer, his face smashed against the dirt, ashes and corpses at the bottom of this massive grave.

He tried to move, but spikes of burning pain sent through him as shockwaves threw him stumbling down once again. He tried again, same thing. His screams resonated in echoes accompanied by the screams, whispers and sweet voices of the dead trying to coerce him.

Between the pain he wondered why he hadn’t been consumed yet, but trying to be convinced. A part of his mind found sufficient energy to be curious still and amused.

How long has it been? It felt like ages since the fall.

He tried to stand up again.

And again.

And again.

Until he gave up, just for a moment. Embracing the pain in his body. It would be easier to just give in, die. Why keep going through the pain when he was sure his own body was useless. He was dragging out the inevitable.

But. Wen Chao.

Wen Chao, his laugh kept resonating in his head barely drowned by the rest of the voices surrounding him. 

At some point the suffocating energy of the place started filling his body, burning like fire was consuming him and yet he felt so… so cold. 

The screams of the souls in the mountain started to increase, consuming him, he was sure. 

His mind filled with the images and screams in Lotus Pier, Wang Lingjiao demanding his hand with an annoying voice, the burning strikes on his back with Madam Yu rage, the fire of his home, the burnt smell of the bodies of his shimeis and shidis. Jiang Cheng, cold and weak on his bed with glassy and faraway eyes, Wen Chao and Wen Zhuliu dragging him across the air.

“Torture me if you dare! The more brutal, the better— that way, I’ll be sure to return as a malicious ghost and haunt everyone in the Wen Clan of Quishan. I’ll curse you all and not allow you a single hour of rest!”. 

His own voice resonated with rage within the darkness, echoing and overlapping but he knew how interesting the prospect of it becoming true had been when he said them to Wen Chao.

“Do you want revenge?”, the souls repeated.

“Yes”, Wei Wuxian answered.

And then, he closed his eyes. Welcoming the resentful energy that filled him with curiosity before, just as a curious and interesting subject. But now the reality of it was terrifying and painful to say the least, and a little bit exciting, picturing how his hands would take the blood and revenge that filled his heart.

He was dying. His heartbeats slowed down, the pain became unbearable, the nasty smell of corpses and resentful energy was all he could sense. 

Jiang Cheng…Shijie…

His mind was slowly drifting away...

Lan Zhan.

Cold and darkness, pain and then no more. 

Wei Wuxian was dead. 

And with his death, the skies turned red in fury and pain, in disconsolate and grief, rage and revenge. The clouds above the burial mounds turned black surrounding them with threats of red lightning.

The people of Yilling saw the sky and the mountains that day, and fear settled in an unease that they have never felt before.

It was a threat.

A promise.

Chapter Text

By the next time Wei Wuxian woke up he felt a weird feeling of emptiness, silence.

He still could hear the voices of the ghosts, but at the same time the burial mounds felt completely silent.

Wei Wuxian tried to stand up but his body didn’t move. No, that wasn’t it. He felt light, heavy, cold but not freezing.

He didn’t have a body.

He was conscious but he was not.

He tried to breathe, but there was no air to breathe in the first place.

“Ah…I’m dead”, he thought outloud. His voice felt strange to his ears. Like an echo, dull and raspy but clear.

For some reason, the realization didn’t feel as scary as he thought it would be. He just shoved it behind his mind like a well known fact, like the fact he was still in the burial mounds, like the knowledge that his body was somewhere in this place and like knowing that even if he felt the need of revenge he still felt strangely calm.

“Curious”, a voice called.

Wei Wuxian opened his eyes, just then realizing he was with his eyes closed. Alarm spikes filled his brain, his eyes turned red and panic surrounded his heart. He stood up like a bolt of lightning and jumped back, away from the clear and deep voice he heard, grabbing the first thing he found with his hand as a weapon. 

A man in red maple clothes looked at him with a slight phantom of a smirk on his lips, one of his eyes was covered by an eyepatch but the other eye looked at him with amusement and caution like a puzzle to be resolved but with a bit of thought it would be as easy as a child’s one. Standing with his hands behind his back and standing regal like if it was the most normal thing to be standing in the middle of a mountain of corpses. For a brief moment he thought of him as a Wen, his chest feeling tighter. But soon he realized the man was wearing a scimitar and those clothes with jewelry pieces with butterflies and small jingles as the subtle breeze moved them, were clearly not the Wen uniform. In fact he looked like a rich lord of some faraway city and not a cultivator. 

“Who are you?” Wei Wuxian demanded again, gripping tighter at the object on his hand pointing at the man like it was a sword. He lowered for a brief moment his eyes to look at it, realizing it was just a piece of bamboo. Well, it would have to do.

Wait.

A body?

A moment ago he didn’t feel solid at all. Thinking about it, he didn’t feel really solid right now either but now he could recognize his own hand to the very least, not like earlier when he felt he was just floating.

“I was about to ask the same thing”, the man simply stated, calling Wei Wuxian's attention once more. His voice was sharp and calm. The voice of someone he knows is in control. 

The man looked almost the same age as him, maybe a bit older or a bit younger, he couldn’t be sure. There was something wrong about him but he couldn't decipher what it was. He gripped tighter the bamboo he was holding, like a lifeline, the only thing that kept him from collapsing into insanity in this confusing spiral of thoughts and confusion.

“Who are you?” Wei Wuxian repeated, more on edge by the minute, twirls of black resentful energy surrounded him like serpents that protected its master.

“A ghost, ” The man said simply, but the smirk was more prominent now, a dangerous edge on it now “one that doesn’t have infinite patience. So, answer first. Who are you?”

A ghost.

Wei Wuxian exhaled a laugh despite himself. It felt like an ice shower washing over him, the feeling of the cold springs forcing his mind to focus. The mere existence of that…ghost felt like a cruel joke of his lifelong teachings crumbling down.

He was as solid as a human, he looked like one, if not for his pale skin he could even say he could be alive. And… he couldn’t feel his resentful energy.

Okay, maybe that was because he was surrounded by it currently. It was in the air, it was within him and probably within the man. And without a golden core he couldn’t exactly feel the smallest differences.

Something within Wei Wuxian knew the man was telling the truth, and some panic stuck at him. He grinned his teeth before answering. He was already dead, if he was somehow conscious and solid enough, he didn’t want to inspire the rage of some other ghost and die again.

“Wei Wuxian” He answered like if it took him some effort to pronounce the words “Yumeng Jiang First Disciple” he continued like if it meant something in the great specter of things with Lotus Pier burned to the ground and the Wen Clan taking over the cultivation world and no golden core to even sustain the title, was he even that person anymore? Did it matter if he was?.

That last part still squeezed something within him, an empty space in his lower dantian that he could still feel in death, maybe this was what a phantom pain felt like, the kind of pain people who lost limbs mentioned.

“A cultivator?” The man said more to himself than to ask, amused by the prospect. Probably it was amusing, a cultivator turned into a ghost? Hilarious, he should exorcise himself. 

“Yes,” Wei Wuxian confirmed reluctantly, even if he knew it wasn't really a question in the first place. “Now your turn, who are you?” he repeated with cold eyes and fear in his eyes even if he stood with all the threat he could call for himself towards the man. Still gripping the bamboo, still with red eyes he didn’t realize he was showing, still with clouds of black resentment surrounding him.

But the man was looking at him like a scared cat in the corner of an alley. Just a smile was more threatening than whatever was what Wei Wuxian was trying to do.

“Some call me Crimson Rain Sought Flower” The man said lazily, taking another step towards Wei Wuxian, the latter taking an step back, almost tripping with some corpse beneath him but keeping his eyes fixed on the other man, he could feel the back of his head cold sweeting, but his rational side of his mind said it made no sense. He sharpened his gaze on the man in red trying to focus but lately it seemed something really hard to do “Others…the bravest ones and the stupidest ones call me Hua Cheng”

The man kept staring at him, expecting and waiting if the name rang any bells. Which…it didn’t.

To be fair his memory had always been bad, it’s not like he kept a mental record of the ghosts he encountered. For the cultivation world the ghost shouldn’t even stay long enough to make themselves a name to wander and stay in history books. They just were meant to be dealt with.

“First, deliverance; second suppression; third obliteration.”, A quote marked in his brain resonated, one he had heard all his life since he started his studies as a cultivator. And the most logical thing would be to remember the classroom with the teacher of Lotus Pier but he was surprised to realize that wasn’t the voice that resonated in his mind.

It was Lan Zhan answering Lan-laoshi in his classes at Cloud Recess.

“Your mind is wandering again” Hua Cheng said, annoyed but still calm enough to call him to the present once again. Wei Wuxian gripped the bamboo again tighter, realizing he had softened his grip before “Why are you staying?”

“Staying?” Wei Wuxian asked dumbfounded, it’s not like he wanted to be here in the burial mounds.

“You wouldn’t be a ghost if you didn’t have a reason” Hua Cheng said on the edge of the exasperation.

Wei Wuxian should be on the edge of exasperation! He didn’t know what was going on! He just knew that he was dead, and now he had just realized he was a ghost! and he wasn’t in pain anymore but still he felt agonizing in some deep and weird way! And now he had some fancy ghost demanding answers! What was his deal?

“Revenge” Wei Wuxian answered after a minute, remembering what the voices of the ghosts asked him while his body broke down into pieces.

“You don’t look very vengeful to me” Hua Cheng said, more amused by the minute than the threatening ghost Wei Wuxian thinks and feels that Hua Cheng truly is.

Wei Wuxian couldn’t bring himself to object. Before dying when his body was broken and he was in pain and the resentment of the mountain eating his soul and body he did feel with all his being the hatred and rage towards the Wen Clan of Quishan, specifically Wen Chao, picturing the many ways he planned to torture him before killing him.

Right now? 

Strangely he felt at peace but at the same time not, something pulling him towards something he didn’t know what it was, every memory and feeling he had felt tinted, like if he was looking through a foggy lake.

“Odd,” Hua Cheng suddenly said, crossing his arms like if he could tell something Wei Wuxian was not “And Curious” he repeated the first words he said when he woke up.

“What thing?” Wei Wuxian snapped once again, his mind was in a turmoil he couldn’t quite figure out, like standing in rope trying to figure out which side he was going to fall, but the certainty he was going to fall. His eyes glowed red more coldly and sharp towards Hua Cheng, the bamboo piece in his hand turning black slowly as if it was being consumed by resentment.

“A Wrath,” Hua Cheng mused, taking one step towards Wei Wuxian once again, towering him and Wei Wuxian couldn’t bring himself to move another step back, he was  frozen in place. By fear? bravery? Honestly, he couldn’t tell, but he didn’t move, keeping his eyes defiant towards the man “A Wrath that was born just as he died, skipping steps and sending alarms to the Heavens because of the intensity of the event” Hua Cheng continued, finding the situation hilarious for some reason but at the end he sounded really annoyed, like if Wei Wuxian had interrupted him between something. 

He isn’t even sure why Hua Cheng was here but he is sure he isn’t the one who brought him here! Why is he annoyed? Is this his home? No way, he looked way too fancy and comfortable to be part of this rotten place.

“And when I come to find what the whole deal was, I find you not even knowing why you stayed and the rage that should be within a Wrath is just…” Then Hua Cheng stopped talking, looking like thinking of something…no, remembering? recognizing?

“Wrath?” Wei Wuxian parroted confused.

Hua Cheng smirked, not devilish like until now, now promising an entertainment to himself “Get your ashes, or you’ll die…for good” he said before disappearing into a thousand butterflies that flew towards a corpse, illuminating it briefly then continuing up into the sky, completely disappearing.

“See you later, Wei Wuxian” He heard the voice of the red ghost echoing in the air.

Wei Wuxian, left confused with more questions than answers, turned instinctively towards the corpse that the butterflies illuminated a second ago, his dead heart skipping a beat, squirming in painful recognition.

Oh.

Chapter Text

By the time his head came around once again, Wei Wuxian wasn’t really sure how much time had passed.

After talking with Hua Cheng, who still didn't know why he was here or exactly who he was, which…he just stored that confusion to the back of his mind for now.

He just knew that his body moved by instinct towards his dead body, his hand was still gripping the dark piece of bamboo. He tried to kneel but he just fell down to the ground, stopping just enough to not squash his face thanks to the black bamboo in his hand that resisted the impact, more sturdy than the rotten piece he had grabbed in the first place.

Exhaustion had finally reached him, realizing he had tripped with his own bloody body.

“Fuck…” Wei Wuxian grumbled looking at the corpse that was barely recognizable by now, a skyfall and days of decomposition wasn’t doing him much favor. Other corpses? fine, he can handle it, his own? Shuders ran through his spine “This is creepy” he finally decided not wanting to give it so much thought.

He reached out and the moment he did, he just lost it, he couldn’t find a better way to describe it. Resentment filled him once more and the pain before his death reached his soul once again.

Clouds of black resentful energy filled the air, dense and crushing to his very soul.

He didn’t have a body, he knew that. It was on the floor slowly disappearing between the mountain of corpses to merge with it eventually. But then, why did it hurt like if he had it?

His heart was beating rapidly, threatening to leave his chest painfully, his lungs struggled for air that did not exist with the resentment poisoning it, his bones hurt like they were shattering, where his golden core once felt cold and draining, like a black hole taking his energy away. He tried to scream, his throat broken sending growls of his voice he wouldn’t recognize if he wasn’t the one making those sounds. He fell to his knees clenching onto his chest as his heart pounded in pain and the voices of the spirits called and screamed his name.

“Wei Wuxian!”

“We’ll help you”

“Just accept us”

“Wei Wuxian. Take your revenge”

“Kill them all!”

As the voices screamed, the confusion of his first state left him, unimportant right now, rage replacing it once again. He looked up at the sky trying to get air, between his blurry eyesight he could swear he could see himself falling as red and white robes flying and dancing in the sky laughed at his demise.

“Wen Chao!” Wei Wuxian heard himself saying roughly between his clenched teeth before everything turned to black once again.

The next thing he knew was that his body wasn’t there anymore. 

He was lying down on the floor with his body feeling sturdier than before, which was not really a reference considering he had been conscious of a healthy body since…yeah… probably since before the indoctrination… that felt a lifetime ago.

It was. In a way.

Wei Wuxian grumbled at the dirt smushed against his face, he wasn’t against being dirty, for fun that is. It was different playing in the dirt of the lotus ponds and just lying down on a mountain of corpses. He kept grumpling trying to turn around until he managed it, his eyes lazily opening up to the grey sky. It was going to rain soon. He should find shelter. 

Did it matter? He was dead. At least cold or hunger wasn’t a worry anymore, he was sure it had been more than a week since he had been thrown here but his mind and body kept breaking into pieces and mending itself on its own, like if his body couldn't decide what he was, a wandering soul? a ghost? a body?

Hua Cheng had said a Wrath. Whatever that meant, but he was sure he was referring to Wei Wuxian and not some cryptic message.

For the time being, he kept fainting and coming back, more solid each time he woke up but still exhausted and drained, unable to really move just yet. He could barely see his surroundings but it was dark, more than at night, black fog swirling lazily around him, around his limbs, embracing him. He could almost say it was protectively, or recognition of servitude. Both, perhaps.

The voices of the ghost of the burial mounds haven’t quieted down. But he had stopped listening a long time ago. Fortunately no fierce corpses or ghosts had tried to eat him yet, that was something. 

In fact, he realized they were keeping their distance, as if he was the threat. Wei Wuxian snorted, amused by the mere thought. 

What a weak new ghost could do to them.

Slow droplets of rain fell on his forehead, it almost felt warm against his cold skin. The rain increased, slowly, but promising a thunderstorm.

He tried to move once more, his lazy and stiff limbs finally listening but stumbling forward at the first try. A small sound of something falling made him look forward, realizing he had been gripping into the bamboo still and that had slipped from his hands in his attempt to stand up, but his other hand was clenched into a fist keeping something trapped inside it as if it was the most important thing in the world. 

He gave up on standing and just tried to sit down, to the very least. Trying over and over until after a few tries filled with growls and complaints as if his body could actually hurt and be sore, he finally sat down in a lotus position, reaching for the black bamboo and placing it between his legs. 

He looked down at his hand, opening slowly, sore and cramped. He was holding a jade lotus figure with a red tassel attached to it. It was a delicate and beautiful adornment, made in a rich craftsmanship that would cost a fortune. Contrasting heavily within this corpse mountain.

Where did he find it? 

Wei Wuxian slid his fingers across the jade lotus carefully, following every line. He found that it had a shimmer on it when the moon light hit it with the right angle. It felt special. Eerie and familiar, like if he knew it. He found it strangely similar to the feeling of Suibian when he unsheathed it for the first time.

“Get your ashes”, Hua Cheng had said.

A sudden realization hit him. Looking back at where his body had been and then down to the jade piece, over and over again. Cold sweat slipping from his temples. His breathing was agitated as he clenched to the piece protectively, the red tassel slightly slipping out of his fist.

For now, he tied it on his sash where his clarity had been before being thrown down into this place.

The rain increased, but he couldn't bring himself to stand up. He stayed there and sat, bringing his fingers across the dirt and dry blood on his hair from top to bottom, losing the red ribbon on I'ts way. His hands falling to his front as if he was meditating with the ribbon tangled in his fingers, letting the rain wash over him. 

He was so tired.

Chapter Text

It had taken Wei Wuxian a couple days to even move a little bit, even more days to find his pace and even more to be able to walk around. He hadn’t found the strength to move around, much less trying to find a way out.

It felt like his body was as heavy as a sunken ship. He was exhausted, his mind had filtered the echoes of the souls that called out for him, his desperate need to leave this place felt so faraway. He felt underwater about to drown but with a calming sensation, if he stretched out his hand enough he was sure he could breathe again.

So he just kept pushing, arranging his limbs to move, he had things to do.

If he had been called something, it was stubborn.

He’d discovered he didn’t need sleep anymore, which was practical, at least. He felt as fresh as waking up in the morning no matter the time it passed, but he felt drained internally. Like his energy consumed and no way to recover it. He did try to sleep to try and see if it would help but just helped to get some ghosts trying to get over his body, they burned in red ashes though, he wasn’t so worried but it was uncomfortable so he stopped trying to sleep. 

It seemed his exhaustion could only be healed with time.

Day and night blurred together as he pushed his body forward, always walking, always searching.Whenever the thought came, to just let the darkness take claim of him, he would remember why he was here in the first place.

He had promised that Wen dog he’d come back.

He had promised to hunt them.

And when that memory struck, it filled him like a jolt of lightning, dragging him upright again.

He imagined Wen Chao’s face the moment he found him, and it kept him going.

Wei Wuxian was still holding onto the black piece of bamboo for some reason, now tucked in his sash for the time being, the decorative jade with the red tassel dangling as he walked just as his clarity bell once upon a time, if he focused enough he even felt it chime with the same sound that accompanied him since he got it along with his sword. Maybe that fathom sound was what kept the voices at bay, or maybe he really was losing it.

His hair barely tucked back, just his front pieces tied with his ribbon and the rest of his hair loose lazily, he always complained about being presentable, arranging his appearance always felt time consuming when he was going to train or jump into the lake anyways. Right now he probably really was a sight, dirty and drenched with blood. He really wished to be able to swim on the lakes of Lotus Pier right now and let his feelings, worries and just let the water wash over him as his mind drowned into nothing. 

He hadn’t seen Hua Cheng since that first time, sometimes he remembered him, thousands of questions on his mind about the identity of that ghost but no way to answer them.So he kept shoving it all into the mental “ask later” box, even though, deep down, he knew it was a waste of energy.

Every time his mind goes to the Wen Clan… toWen Chao. He found the resentment in the burial mounds growing thicker and clouds of black surrounding him. Resentful energy swam his way. He rejected it at first, but as the time went on Wei Wuxian started to accept it… gladly, as he thought and planned the ways he would haunt him.

He was finding his way around that energy, slowly becoming familiar with it. At first, before he died, as he was falling, as he was dying on the ground he had found it poisonous, necessary but poisonous nonetheless and he couldn’t help but remember the lectures of Lan-laoshi and Lan Zhan. They were right, he was consumed by it ultimately in a matter of seconds. 

But, right now he found it warm in his cold body, the sulfur smell becoming homey in his books. He started to invite it and not wait for it to reach out. Playing with the black smoke as an untamed and curious animal.

The whispers of the souls had become quieter, expecting something from him, he still didn’t know what exactly they were waiting but for now he just kept minding his own business. 

He had tried to talk with the more conscious souls, now that he was a ghost he felt every one of them as clear as if they were living. He wondered if this is how it feels inquiry from the Lan Clan? Sometimes they answered, some were confused and lost, others were filled with rage and resentment, others were bored out of their minds. Others, especially the fierce corpses, were just violence in the flesh with just instincts guided by old emotions guiding them. He found that no matter which, they felt so out of reach, not in strength, it was like he didn’t even have to worry about them. Wei Wuxian was strong, he felt it, but had no way to access it.

That strength and power just had to reach his body somehow, or what he decided to call his body as he knew he was visible and solid but clearly dead. Sometimes he found himself not breathing, at first probably he was just doing it unconscious as he always had been breathing but he didn’t need it anymore, his cold grey skin blending with the mist of the place, and he was sure his eyes were no better, he could only hope to have some pupils at least, what would he give to have some fathom of reflection of his own state right now.

He had to figure out something, if he planned to get out of this place he had to try and pretend to be as alive as possible. He couldn’t allow the sects to exorcise him just yet.

Wei Wuxian still had some things to deal with.

The days passed, and the pain in his ‘body’ started to recede, as his affinity with the energy of the place started to settle down inside him and he was able to control it around. 

Not sure what to do once he had managed to learn how to call it in and out of himself and drag it from the environment, he just started to try to move it around or send it around, but it didn't work. He moved his hands and moved stupidly trying to accomplish something, anything! But nothing happened. 

Until one day he started whistling out of boredom and that did the trick. Waves of resentment made the earth shake, or more specifically, made the corpses around him start to rise. 

Just great.

“AHH- HOLD ON! HOLD ON! Stay right there!” Wei Wuxian screamed with red eyes and a broken unused voice as the corpses jumped towards him, grabbing his piece of bamboo instinctively as if it was a sword and pointed at them in warning.

They stopped.

Huh.

The corpses stood looking at Wei Wuxian with their blank and white soulless eyes, waiting for something once again.

An itch on his hand and a pull in his soul jumped like if he should be doing something, that he could do something and still he wasn’t sure what it was.

He came back to the whistling to try something and the corpses charged once again. He jumped back and once again found another difference from his broken human body. He was jumping like in the old times when his golden core was buzzling with energy, except he didn’t have a golden core, he didn’t have spiritual energy. But the hollow darkness inside him… didn’t feel so hollow anymore.

The realization kinda lifted his spirits a little bit.

“Gongzi!” Wei Wuxian heard some pitched giggles, friendly and calling. But he didn’t turn like it was some saviour, he turned around searching for it wary “Sing me a song!” A woman dressed in red rich robes, a bride, said cheerfully. A ghost, solid like him but not quite, he felt the difference deep down. But yet, he still looked at her like the most threatening thing in the world, pointing the bamboo at her and slashing the air.

Waves of black resentment cut the air like if they were spiritual slashes. Wei Wuxian watched his own doing in amazement that didn’t last long with the corpses charging once again and the bride ghost dodging it gracefully like if she was dancing.

“If you don’t know how to sing, play something then!” The bride ghost called once again with a playful smile. With the veil, translucent and red made her factions blurry but not irrecognizable, but he wasn’t even sure how old she could have been, but by the voice he could tell she was young, not older than his own shijie to the very least.

That thought hurt, striking like a boulder against his dead and frozen heart that still refused to acknowledge it was dead, still hurting like the one of a living, feeling sorrow and grief and rage and confusion.

Would he ever see his shijie get married? Probably not. His grip on the bamboo tightened until his knuckles went white. His heart pounded in hurtful sorrow as the childhood memories of his Shijie flooded his mind, but the woman in front of him just tilted her head with an innocent smile, waiting for him to come back to the present.

He looked at the bride ghost, bloodshot eyes turning into confusion as he truly looked at her and not the threat as he was treating her before. The other corpses were still on his way towards him but Wei Wuxian didn’t manage to mind them.

Lately he was acting on pure instincts, no questioning his own actions, if they worked why question them, that way he had gotten control over the resentful energy, that way he had managed to burn the souls of the ones attacking him, that way he had managed to materialize his mortal body and ashes into a jade to keep close. So when his instincts told him she wasn’t a threat, he listened,wary but he listened. He felt the need to sing as she said, so he whistled a soft tune, a sorrowful thinking of that ghost bride as questions flooded his mind. Why was she here? Why did she die? She was so young. 

He was young. 

And they were both dead.

Their hearts would never beat again, they will never feel warmth again, only carried by old feelings that lead nowhere but still wishing to fulfill them.

His mind wandered once again, Lotus Pier was recurrent, Wen Chao, the bodies of Uncle Jiang and Madam Yu, the bodies of his peers that he trained for years, the glossy and empty stare of Jiang Cheng on the bed. The now familiar rage flowed inside him and out, like breathing but instead of air was pure emotion running through his meridians.

Rage, he wanted to go back and burn the Wen Clan to the ground just like they did to so many secs now. But right now he couldn’t get himself to just feel hate, there was also a big loss shattering his heart.

“They are getting closer” The woman said, warning him.

Like if the sorrow he felt had reached the soft and uneven whistles he let his lips hum, the corpses stopped, falling dead once again.

Wei Wuxian turned, startled, as dozens of corpses dropped like puppets with their strings cut.

He stared, mouth dry, frozen in place.

“Who are you?” Wei Wuxian managed finally to ask after the shock of the fallen corpses and the sorrow settling in his chest long forgotten on the back of his mind. Sharpening his gaze once again 

“Yang Mingxia” The bride ghost smiled sweetly as if Wei Wuxian was an old friend and not some random ghost she just met “I was proficient in music, once upon a time. My family and I lived in a town in the north, within Gusu Clan territory. I’m aware of music cultivation. I thought it would help” she shrugged casually “My father was an artisan of instruments. Me and my brother used to help him in the business until I came of age and expected to marry. My brother was expected to take on the business. I was a talent, wedding proposals filled my room!” Yang Mingxia giggled at the memory, clearly happy.

Then why…

Suddenly something shifted within her, anger, Wei Wuxian recognized it. Resentful energy deepened the air, darkened the forest but none of them reacted. She looked at him straight into his eyes, her eyes questioning with defiance and certainty. He couldn’t see through the veil but he could feel it, clear as day. It was like she had been waiting for someone to listen, so he did.

“My father let me choose. I wanted to marry a boy I met a couple of times delivering gehu strings to his house. He was a musician in the next town. But then my father died. And my brother took over. He just married me off to an old man! Rich one at that, but all the way to the south! He said it was good for the business” Yang Mingxia had sat down on a broken log and was gripping the skirts of her robes hard, ripping slightly the fabric with her long nails that started growing during the story as the black clouds surrounded her. 

Wei Wuxian was gripping tightly at the tip of his bamboo as well. Why would a brother just send a sister somewhere so far away against her wishes knowing it wasn't the best life she could get? Jiang Cheng and him had been talking for years how they would make the best wedding for Shijie and how she was so awesome that nobody would even be worthy of her…Well, not that it was an option for him anymore but he knew Jiang Cheng would make her a wedding worthy of her when the time came, with some hope and help of the Heavens it would not be the Peacock. If he still had any right left to wish for things.

“How…did you end up here?” Wei Wuxian asked, feeling his mouth dry after a second, finding Yang Mingxia lost in her thoughts as he was.

Yang Mingxia smiled sweetly tilting her head “I just jumped in the middle of the road and ran!” She answered like it was a childish prank to leave her wedding procession “My plan was to run back to the north but I was just misfortunate. I got lost and wandered here”

“You wanted to go back to the gehu boy” Wei Wuxian noted.

The resentment in Yang Mingxia calmed down as Wei Wuxian answered with the pure sadness of her story, her nails coming back to a natural length and the clouds dissipating. She nodded softly “Thats right” she said barely audible, with sobs she tried to contain “But, it's been a long time now. I’m not even sure he is even alive. And if he was, he would be an old man as well, with a family probably…hopefully” she said, really wishing for the well being of her old love.

“Why…Why do you tell me all of this?” Wei Wuxian finally found the courage to ask as his grip on the bamboo softened letting his hand fall at his sides

“I want to help you” Yang Mingxia said playfully once again, dangling her feet like a child and not the refined young maiden she once was

"Why don't you move on then? Why help me?” Wei Wuxian wasn’t understanding anything of this, but to be fair, he didn’t understand anything since the fire consumed Lotus Pier, he just kept walking, kept feeling and hoped that was enough to find and help Jiang Cheng once more, to find Shijie once more, to see Lan Zhan, if he didn’t hate him that much. 

His mind had been dormant in a way, unable to really get what was happening. Just facts carrying his steps, and sometimes his emotions catching up with him on the bad days, but those were his most powerful days so he kept walking.

Yang Mingxia smiled more mischievously this time, like if she knew something he didn’t “I’m sure you will get that answer eventually on your own” she said finally. Jumping a big leap towards Wei Wuxian with ease, landing just in front of him, which made him get tense and surrounding himself with resentment like a shield as he stepped back looking down at her with red eyes with caution…and fear. But she was just looking up at him with amusement and sweetness. “For now, why don’t I help you with that?” she asked, pointing at the black bamboo piece he was gripping against his hip.

Chapter Text

Oddly enough, he had found company within the burial mounds. 

Maybe it was because they all were dead, exhausted and angry. But he found himself in higher spirits than before, he honestly had lost track of time, but for what loosely he had recorded in the walls of the cave he had decided to be his shelter for the time being, it wasn't more than a month, ish.

A couple of ghosts had started to follow him around, talking to him and helping him. Yang Mingxia became the most frequent one, but there was also the soldier boy who was thrown in here because of a treason he didn’t commit, an infant that was stolen and when their captors were about to be captured just dropped the cargo erasing evidence, some closer in age with him with various stories from homeless to merchants and rich families. 

Most of them were common people with just unfinished stories that died too early, but didn’t want to move on for some reason. So they stayed close to him, for some unfathomable reason Wei Wuxian still couldn’t understand.

“This way, we can leave this place. In some way, at least,” said Han Yexuan, a ghost not that much younger than Wei Wuxian, giving a casual shrug as if they were discussing dinner plans, not ghostly afterlives. He had that half-see-through, misty look most ghosts did. Floaty. Bleak. But now, Wei Wuxian could see the threads of energy running through him, almost like veins. The boy's voice rang clearer, distinguishing his voice like any other living could

“Don’t overthink it,” Han Yexuan added with a grin, nudging Wei Wuxian with invisible shoulders that had no way to actually touch him and yet he could “One way or another, we’ll get to move on. Not here, obviously. Too much resentment keeping us anchored in the mud. But with you around, being the strongest of us all, like it or not. Maybe we’ll get something done.”

“Me?” Wei Wuxian raised a brow, lips twitching. “I’m not that powerful.” he said, slightly amused by the light hearted boy.

Han pointed a translucent finger at him like he'd just said something idiotic. “Yes, you are. Thanks to you, we can even think clearly.” he stopped for a second, considering something “Or well, as much as humanly possible, I’m still waiting for a chance to curse the asshole of my uncle.” he said brushing the subject with his hand waving the words away.

Before he could respond, another voice chimed in.

“Gongzi” Su Lanyin, called with her soft but sharp voice cut in as she sat down over a rock, a ghost of the daughter of a farmer with too many responsibilities over her shoulders in life. Died of of sickness and her body thrown here just because her father didn’t know any better “Before you came, none of us had a mind, we were already just voices and echoes of old emotions”

Wei Wuxian blinked. “Wait—what?”

“You,” she said firmly, eyes narrowing like she couldn’t believe she had to spell it out. “Just you. You radiate . Your presence burns. It stirred us awake.”

“I…” he faltered, the smirk slipping for a beat.

But Han kept going, not letting the stupid Wei Wuxian go on in his ignorance or pretending to be. Hands in the pockets of a robe he wasn’t really wearing. “Each day, more of us come back. Not back back, you know. We are still dead. But...aware. The smarter ones, at least.”

He tilted his head toward the edge of the burial mounds, where resentment rolled like fog. “The others are too far gone. No thoughts left, just hate. You can’t bring them back when they were already stupid in life” he mocked the other residents.

Wei Wuxian stared at them for a moment, ghostly figures against mist and dark earth.  

“If you are sure you want to stick around,” Wei Wuxian said finally, with a small shrug.

He really couldn’t understand these souls, but maybe just being able to think and not being trapped in your own mind was a blessing in the middle of this chaos.

And it didn’t stop there. More and more souls joined him by the day. Most of them idly disappeared and appeared as they wished, moving around this dead land as a market place. Some stuck to talk before going somewhere else, no one really could leave the Burial Mounds or pass on, the resentment was too festered, too dense to allow them, instead they were waiting. 

Waiting for Wei Wuxian.

Wei Wuxian wasn’t sure what they were waiting for.

Even some assassins and corrupted people in life repented in death, after their consciousness was awoken, asked to repent, to be useful and if they managed to get out of here then maybe they could do something about the old emotions that were rotting inside them. They did not ask forgiveness, they acknowledged what they did and worked with it. 

But the most nefarious people didn’t get a story to tell, already consumed by rage, hatred and despair. Just a lost and old linger stubborn and poisoned, yes, they were dangerous, they tried to attack Wei Wuxian many times with no conscious mind of why. He paid them no mind, a ring of his dizi and that was enough to drive them away, or even, made them stand by as a new addition of his forces.

“If you have no reason, if all you have is hate and bad intent, you may as well use it in favor of something else” Wei Wuxian said as he bent their will with hollow eyes and no sympathy for those.

The ghost bent, they wanted bloodshed and Wei Wuxian was promising just that.

This way he could kill the Wen Clan and the ghosts found that amusing.

The bamboo that Yang Mingxia had helped him carve into a delicate flute that he would have never dreamed to be able to do before rested securely in his sash with the jade with red tassel hanging from it. A spiritual weapon with his soul hanging from it felt kinda poetic.

“What will you call it?” Yang Mingxia asked once he finished it. 

“Why would I name a dizi?” Wei Wuxian frowned, confused.

“It’s clearly a spiritual weapon… or ghost weapon?” Yang Mingxia giggled confused as well “Either way, it's powerful, I can feel it. You are a natural! Think of it as the instruments for Gusu Sect!”

Well, it’s not like he could call it Suibian again. Lan Zhan would glare at him worse than before when he found out his sword name.

“Chenqing” Wei Wuxian answered after a while.

He had found a routine, exploring the land of the dead, speaking to the spirits at night, hearing their stories, their sorrow, their pain, their anger. Harnessing into his very own soul at every story, he may be dead, but he was a cultivator once, and the origin from that was to release and help the souls that were stuck. So even with his little power on the matter now, he listened, he helped where little he could, he made promises to the ones he could. If and when he left this hellhole, he would help some of them to fulfill their last wishes. 

In the mornings he tested his powers, he tried arrays, tested talismans and crafted tools for the war with the little materials he had. His mind had always been curious, creative, called a nuisance and a waste of time many times but it was something that stayed on his own soul. Even when he thought nothing good could  come from this situation, he still managed to create new spells that even the most untalented of cultivators would manage to pull.

In the afternoons, he would stay with Mingxia-Jie, playing with her as she taught her how to play the dizi, learning old and new songs from her singing. When she disappeared from the musical session of the day, he would play a soft melody in the solitude of the cave, a song that felt like a warm hug, like companionship, like a desire he couldn’t quite name, a longing he didn’t know he had. He didn’t know the song, and he didn’t remember where he picked it up. But it felt like part of him, and refused to let it go. 

“What are you working on now?” Yang Mingxia asked, hugging him from behind comfortably in his space, taking him out of his thoughts. Wei Wuxian never minded her intrusion, it seemed something she needed, to find some comfort with another that talked to her. And he had found the same type of comfort, not being completely alone in this graveyard.

“Messing around with arrays and talismans, I want to test how many of the ones I know I can still use without a golden core to sustain them or activate them, so far there aren’t many I can’t use so it’s looking promising” he answered drawing on the dirt with his blood.

Which he still found odd.

Unlike any of the other ghosts in this place, Wei Wuxian was the most alive looking one, with a physical body that wasn't really, solid and alive looking, at least if it wasn't for his pale skin and dead aura. 

They said it was because he had an abnormal quantity of power, the resentment didn’t consume him, instead it was his power, not the source but a boost. 

He could bleed, he could feel pain, he could sleep. But none of it seemed to be a requirement now to just keep going, not even food, which was something good for now, considering he hadn’t found a single fruit or stream in this place. It was a question for later if he still was even able to digest anything at all, which by the pattern he supposed he could but he tried not to keep his hopes up.

“And what does this one do?” She asked.

“It should attract spirits…I want to test it out. So it doesn’t drag conscious ones like us. I don’t want to be summoned by accident and blow up my cover” He answered tapping her arm, a signal so she moved away so he could stand up. And so she did.

He dragged himself up with the piece of cloth that he called talisman.

Then came the soft chime of dangling jewelry. Sweet, subtle. It was the only warning he got. But he knew that sound well. It haunted him, lingering in his thoughts, always wondering when or if its owner would reappear.

He had a curious mind, and Hua Cheng was beyond intriguing.

A wild card he could not decipher.

That made him a variable.

A dangerous one.

“Look like you have made yourself comfortable” A deep and amused voice rang cold  behind them. Cold and sharpness filled his senses as he stood up taking Chenqing ready just in case, his eyes glaring red at the figure that had appeared in the cave. The ghost bride had paled even more, freezing and running behind Wei Wuxian. But Hua Cheng looked as relaxed as always as he leaned on the stone slab he used as a bed and desk, grabbing some of the failed talisman pieces.

“Hua Cheng” Wei Wuxian called frowning dangerously “What are you doing here?” he asked as confused as always with this man that from time to time jumped into his consciousness only to disappear once again. The long list of questions he had in his mind now didn’t seem to be able to form on his tongue.

“Oh? You remember” The red ghost answered with amusement, a smirk drawing on his lips as he crossed his arms “With how fragmented was your head last time I thought the energy would have eaten you by now and you wouldn’t have remembered me” he chuckled like it was funny to just talk about it.

For Wei Wuxian it wasn't. The first month had been a painful experience with more downs than ups as he tried to gather his body to move once again, more to not hurt, more to his mind to find a straight line of thoughts without snapping at every shadow he turned.

“Well…” Wei Wuxian swallowed, unsure of what this whole thing was about “I’m fine. I control it” he said sharply

“I can see that,” Hua Cheng said, raising an eyebrow and turning around to the entrance of the cave. Like if he had commanded them, maybe ghosts had gathered closer ready to protect Wei Wuxian but not daring to enter, maybe reluctant to the heavy presence of Hua Cheng that even made Wei Wuxian tremble, probably to a minor ghost that was even heavier. But also, glancing at Wei Wuxian with silent questions. The only ones that haven't come were the unconscious souls and corpses that he only called with his dizi.

“I thought you had businesses to attend” Hua Cheng continued “and yet here you are, playing with souls and tinkering with blood” he said as if Wei Wuxian had been just lazying around.

That angered him, clouds of resentment  coming from him filling the air.

He had been busy! He was finding his limits as a ghost, learning how to pretend to be alive, testing talismans and arrays, what worked what not with his energy control, even inventing a couple, apparently learning musical cultivation with resentful energy and a dizi and trying to find a way out of this mountain! It was a maze! He wasn’t playing around .

“It’s not the right time yet” Wei Wuxian simply answered, lowering his dizi but keeping a tight grip on it. 

“And when would that be?” Hua Cheng arched an eyebrow with a grin plastered on his face.

Wei Wuxian felt the ghost bride shaking nervously behind him, not in fear but as if she had some hard time to breathe, gripping slightly at the back of his robes. He looked at Hua Cheng, trying to find an answer, he kinda had one.

When he could master the resentful energy, when he had a plan to offer the cultivation clans against wen Ruohan, when he had new tools to fight, when he understood really what a ghost meant, when he knew how he would avoid unsolicited questions, when he knew what would he say to Jiang Cheng, to Shijie, to Lan Zhan.

That latter, would he even care for any word from him? It’s not like they were really friends… but they had been through battles together! That had to mean something, right?

“When…” Wei Wuxian started, then he just frowned, stopping himself “Why would I tell you? Why are you here anyways? Who are you? Some nosy ghost?!” he refuted once he remembered the strange situation at hand.

That seemed to have angered the red ghost a bit, but not enough to strike him down so he took it as a win “I like to know if there are threats around. Will you be a threat, Wei Wuxian?” Hua Cheng asked chilly and sharp, his voice reaching his very own ghost bones making him shudder.

“No” Wei Wuxian said almost instantly, then he frowned to himself “I don’t think so. Unless you are with the Wen Clan. Then I will be” he said, swirls of resentment dancing around his dizi as his red glowing eyes carefully took Hua Cheng's expression, that didn’t change at all at his words.

“I’m not interested in mess with the cultivation clans” The man answered lazily, some part of Wei Wuxian relaxing at that but keeping his gaze fixed on Hua Cheng “I could help with what you feel you are lacking as a ghost, you have the power, you are just locking it unconsciously” 

Wei Wuxian narrowed his eyes “Why would you help?” he couldn’t believe some random ghost with crushing power would simply help out of kindness, Hua Cheng definitely wasn't that type of personality. He was testing him, but Wei Wuxian couldn’t figure out why and for what.

Hua Cheng sighed like if he really was annoyed about Wei Wuxian and yet, he was there, looking amused and exhausted with the situation at the same time “I’m making a bet”

"A bet?" Wei Wuxian echoed, brows furrowing in confusion “What would you win from this?”

“Maybe an ally, maybe an enemy” Hua Cheng said playing absently with a red bead at the end of a single braid framing his face without really looking back at him, just deep in thought and seemingly bored “But someone important to me asked me to keep an eye on you, so that’s what I’ll do”

“Why would—” 

“You really like to ask too many questions,” Hua Cheng interrupted, already sounding tired. “I’m just speeding things up. You would’ve figured it out in a few months, but I don’t think you’ve got that kind of time to be lazy. The cultivation clans are on edge”

His voice carried an easy drawl, but the warning beneath it was clear.

Wei Wuxian tightened his grip on Chenqing, jaw clenched as he swallowed. He took in Hua Cheng’s figure with cautious eyes, weighing his options carefully.

“I don’t like to accept offers without knowing the price,” Wei Wuxian said firmly once he found his voice.

“Just don’t ever go against His Royal Highness the Crown Prince of Xianle” Hua Cheng said “I can’t guarantee your safety then” he smirked “And later… what about just a favor or the promise you won’t stand in my way?”

‘And who the fuck is that?’ Wei Wuxian wanted to reply, but he could already see himself turn into dust if he said so.

Wei Wuxian smiled tightly, trying not to show how hard his pulse had jumped. “Great. Nothing like unclear threats from mysterious ghosts to brighten my day.” he grumbled under his breath.

Wei Wuxian didn’t even know that person but he nodded. He would find out later.

For now, he wanted the power to bring the Wen Clan of Quishan to the ground.

The resentment filled the air in the cave, like a deep ocean, pressuring everything inside deep and crushing. But none of the present ones seemed to even feel it, aside from the ghosts at the entrance that since long had been cowarded and left under Wei Wuxian comforting nod.

“Alright. Hua-Shifu” Wei Wuxian chuckled despite himself, a smirk forming on his face, devilish-like with those red eyes glowing expectantly.

Chapter Text

“Did you miss me?” Wei Wuxian asked, smiling with an aura that could only be described as sinister, standing leisurely in the center of the room. His voice echoing in the middle of the night.

His hair was down, except for a half up ponytail with a silver guan with red crystals adorning it and engraved butterflies in the design, his signature red ribbon cascading beneath it like blood running through his hair with a silver hairpin keeping everything in place. His robes, too, were unlike anything he’d worn before. Though simple in cut, they held the unmistakable air of something regal, deep black with a faint smoke-like pattern across the fabric, trimmed in dark red embroidery that caught the light at his collar and the edges of his wide, flowing sleeves. A black and red sash circled his waist, with a dizi, black with a dark aura spreading from it, tucked neatly against his hip, its red tassel swaying like a drop of blood.

He looked like a noble like not ever he has been, not even in formal events as the Head-disciple of Yumeng Jiang on his purple robes that Madam Yu hated seeing him in, the robes his Shijie picked up for him personally. He could even be compared to a sect heir… no, he looked as regal as a sect leader . 

He owned the presence he was holding. 

His face was pale, almost too pale, and his eyes glowed faintly red, dull, but unnerving. If anyone didn’t know better, they might have thought he was already dead. The Wei Wuxian who had vanished after the fall of Lotus Pier and the figure now standing in this dimly lit room could have been two entirely different people. 

With chin up and arms clasped behind his back, Wei Wuxian smiled devilishly with his eyes pointing at Wen Chao.

Wen Chao was curled into himself in a corner of the room, his fingerless hands trying to bring down the hood covering his face, his legs pressed against his chest, thin bone legs with barely skin on them hanging and tied together with bandages dyed with blood.

“Wen Zhuliu…Wen Zhuliu!” Wen Chao rasped with a coarse voice, crying and shivering.

“Wen Chao…you hurt me” Wei Wuxian pouted mockingly, stepping lazily one step at a time, but Wen Zhuliu blocked his way. What a loyal dog he was! 

Wei Wuxian couldn’t help but laugh under his breath “Even now, you think calling him will be of any use?” he asked, stepping toward the table and sitting down with the ease of someone who owned the place. The candlelight flickered weakly, casting shadows that lit only half of his face, the rest lost in gloom.

He paid no mind to the terror on the Wens’ faces. Instead, he raised his hand slightly and tapped the side of the table, light, almost playful, like summoning a cat. But what crawled out from beneath it was no pet.

A small, pale child emerged, hair thin and patchy like it had been falling out for years. Silent, sunken-eyed, and stiff in his movements. Wei Wuxian reached into his sleeve and handed him something, and the child settled beside him, chewing eagerly on the treat, never taking his cold, glinting gaze off Wen Zhuliu.

Wei Wuxian gave the ghost child two gentle taps on the head. A quiet gesture, like praise smiling at the little kid with an eerie gentleness. Then, he turned his eyes to Wen Zhuliu, a smirk drawing on his face as he leaned back slightly “Wen Zhuliu,” Wei Wuxian called “do you really think that you can protect his shitty life from me?”

“I will die trying” Wen Zhuliu replied “I owe a debt of gratitude for their recognition, it must not go unrepaid” 

Wei Wuxian's expression and tone turned abruptly sinister “What a joke!” he laughed sharply, even the kid under him glared at him with uncontained anger “why must others pay the price of your debt?!” For a moment, Wei Wuxian looked down at his dizi, his hand resting lightly on it, his thumb tracing the delicate carvings. Then his voice softened, becoming silky and calm.

“Even debts… must be chosen carefully,” he said with a knowing smile.

Before Wen Zhuliu could finish, Wen Chao’s shrill, panicked cries rang out from behind him. He had scrambled into a corner of the room, pressing himself flat against the wooden planks, as if he might vanish through the cracks.

Then, like a dark fog slipping through those cracks, a figure materialized hugging Wen Chao from the side. A woman with ghost-pale skin, draped in vibrant red robes that rippled like blood in water. Her ink-black hair flowed around her face in messy strands, her hand softly caressed Wen Chao’s cheek tenderly and from her lips came a soft, childlike hum. The tune, sweet and off-key, echoed strangely through the dim room, making the air seem colder with every note. Her veil covered her face, but Wen Chao from this close could see the freezing and sharp gaze, cruel and angry.

Wen Chao froze.

She tilted her head at him, her dark eyes wide with innocent curiosity. Her lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile. Still humming, she reached out with delicate fingers and gently ran them over the bandages on his head, almost as if she were petting him.

Wen Chao whimpered. “Don’t... please don’t…”

Wen Zhuliu tried to run to Wen Chao, only to be stopped by a red translucent wall, he turned to Wei Wuxian , who only smirked and shrugged as if he knew nothing about it. “Don’t mess up the fun” he simply said.

The female ghost pressed a finger to Wen Chao’s lips with mock tenderness. Shhh.

Then, as if playing a game, she plucked at the edge of the bandage and gave it a teasing tug. Not enough to rip it off—just enough to make him feel it. Enough to let the pain flirt with the edges of his fear.

Her humming grew louder, more dissonant.

The red of her sleeves danced before his eyes as she leaned in close, breathed cold against his skin, and whispered to his ear “My master promised he would return”.

Wen Chao's eyes rolled back, falling unconscious from sheer terror.

The ghostly child lunged first, sinking his teeth into Wen Zhuliu’s hand before the man could strike him off. He bit down hard, tearing flesh with sharp little teeth and spitting out a bloody chunk as he kept gnawing, relentless and cold. Wen Zhuliu tried to shake him, tried to ignore the pain and reach Wen Chao, but the child clung like a rabid thing.

Then, without a word, the pale woman threw aside the bloodied bandages. She took a step and in the next one a blur of red robes was standing behind Wen Zhuliu, hugging him from the back, her claws digging painfully and assertively onto his stomach and slashing it across, a wide knowing smile across the face. Together, the two specters attacked in unison, forcing Wen Zhuliu back in a flurry of teeth and nails. He struggled to keep up, looking ragged and overwhelmed. When he finally caught sight of Wei Wuxian watching from the side leaning against the wall bored and standing with that familiar, mocking smile. He snapped.

He lunged.

Wei Wuxian was calm, expecting the attack, his eyes fixed on Wen Zhuliu with an increasingly glowing red.  Then, he sensed something on the back of his mind, a constant presence that had been since he arrived but that hadn't moved. Until now.

Before the man could reach him, something broke through the roof in a downpour of shattered tile and dust. A figure dropped in a flash of pale white robes strained with a blur of dust, landing between them with a glow of blow threatening forward.  A bolt of violet light split the air with a crack, coiling like a serpent around the attacker’s throat. The weight of Wen Zhuliu’s body lifted from the ground, spun once midair, and then, an ugly crunch. Bone giving way.

For a second, Wei Wuxian felt like the world had stopped. The bloodlust and anger and darkness that had followed him since he crawled out of the Burial Mounds, the resentment of war and blood spilled by the Wen dogs had suddenly thinned into nothing more than a chill on his bones at the sight of the back of Jiang Cheng and Lan Zhan.

After a second he recoiled within himself, he was no longer alive, he had no right to step among them.

Chapter Text

“Why do I bleed? Why does it hurt? Why do I still grieve? Why do I still cry?! ANSWER ME, HUA CHENG!” Wei Wuxian had cried and yelled until his throat fell sore and bleeding to the icy stare of the supreme ghost, as he learned his superiority actually had a name.

The black coils of resentment swarming him leaving him in the middle of a hurricane of lost souls creaming at him, his hands bleeding with cuts as well as his sides, his tethered and dirty robes were slipping down his shoulders as he grabbed harshly at his hair in inner turmoil as if he didn’t realize anything around him.

“Because you are powerful enough to have an almost-looking alive body. Don’t let it go over your head, right now you look as shit as dead anyways” Hua Cheng said as if it was nothing, like if that statement didn’t broke all the knowledge he had as a cultivator and shrugging looking at the storm in front of him unbothered like nothing was happening “You could say its because of your stubbornness. And your lingering desire, whatever that is.”

Wei Wuxian still wasn’t sure what that was, he had ideas but none of them filled the checkboxes of a lingering desire for a Wrath level ghost, according to Hua Cheng. So he was just an anomaly, as always.

“Whats the difference then? Even if my heart doesn’t beat it still hurts, I still remember, I’m still here” Wei Wuxian laughed with no humour behind it. A constant ring on his ears muffled his surroundings, a dark cave cold and full of resentment.

A true dead land.

Nobody leaves the Burial Mounds alive.

“I’m dead”  Wei Wuxian added, letting the resentment go back into his body as the thought hit him once more. Panging painfully against his chest “But I’m here. So, what’s the difference?” he asked with hollow eyes.

“They’ll notice the difference, learn to use it, when to hide it, when not” Hua Cheng said bored, having heard the same phrase over and over again “You are dead, they’ll run a sword through you if you let them, does it matter to them if you desire to remain among the living?”

“They will call me unnatural” he laughed dryly, knowing the reactions that awaited him. “Maybe I am”

“So? You don’t look like the type to care”

“I don’t. Not when I have things to do” he said, his eyes flashing red once again. He was so tired of everything. “I’m cold” Wei Wuxian said suddenly, shivering as the black smoke embraced him “Spiritual energy will never run through my veins again” he lamented, knowing that warm and gold energy could kill him in fact, for good, which was hilarious to some levels “All that I was raised up to be broken into pieces and it's all my fault!” His temper swinging back and forth, angry and desperate, light and hollow, always changing. It was expected with new ghosts, especially one like Wei Wuxian with a soul about to break and with resentful energy keeping it together.

Wei Wuxian's mind tended to drift to the memories. The fall of Lotus Pier, Jiang Cheng’s golden core, everything he touched got rotten and broken. “I’ll kill them! I’ll kill them all” he said, fixing his eyes on the red robes of the man in front of him, clearly not addressing him, his mind far somewhere else.

“For that…” Hua Cheng stepped closer, unbothered by the attacking serpents of smoke that got sliced easily by the flying smithar, stopping just in front of the boy “You will need strength and power. You have it, release it, control it” his voice demanded as the smithar lunched once again.

 

Wei Wuxian’s eyes narrowed going back into the present as the cracking sparks of purple recoiled back into a ring in front of him. 

It was like the world had stopped.

The energies of the men in front of him were buzzling, he could feel it, energetic, alive.

He could feel the difference with a painful recognition, he felt worlds apart even if he was two steps away.

In a quick thought he gave a small wave of his hand he called the ghostly child and the red-robed woman who retreated behind him, silent and alert but the fierceness from before, there was no more, now they looked like simple low-level ghosts, the woman seemed charming and the boy innocently sweet. They still glared at the newcomers, wary and so did Wei Wuxian with a cold demeanor protecting the ones behind him.

Would they notice?

He had worked hard to learn how to hide his ghost nature, to hide his presence behind natural resentful energy, to consciously make his body breathe, keep warmth, eyes focused.

For a breath, everything stilled. 

Wei Wuxian’s eyes flicked between the two cultivators who had turned around. No one spoke. 

“Your sword!” Jiang Cheng said as he pushed something against his chest, a familiar feeling lingering as Wei Wuxian’s hand gripped the weapon for a second, glancing at it before his hand dropped to the side, holding onto Suibian carelessly.

 After a brief pause, he muttered, “…Thanks.”

He didn’t notice.

A small breath escaped relieved out of his lungs.

And then his eyes darted for a brief second to the sword. According to Hua Cheng he didn’t have spiritual energy, but eventually, he might. Depending on certain factors he refused to give. He gripped the sword slightly at the prospect but he didn’t have much hope in that…or interest now, this was the sword of a cultivator. He wasn’t one anymore and never would be one, ever again.

But for now, in his current state, as a Wrath, this sword was as useful as sleeping. He could sleep, but it wouldn’t gain much from it. The same that he could wield Suibian but it wouldn’t glow as a spiritual weapon. With no spiritual energy to run it, it wouldn’t kill spirits, and everyone would know, question where he had gotten the physical strength to wield it but no energy to properly use it.  

Then, all of a sudden, Jiang Cheng stormed over and smacked him across the face. “You bastard! Where have you been for the past three months?!” Though his words were sharp, his voice gave him away,relief flooded through every syllable. 

It sting, it hurt, but he also felt relieved. He was here, Jiang Cheng was here. And he was alive .

But he wasn’t. So he couldn’t stay. He couldn’t. He was cold, his heartbeats didn’t exist and he could never rise as a cultivator ever again. 

Wei Wuxian stepped back, casually and soundlessly, avoiding their closeness as his mind felt dizzy with such thoughts. 

Jiang Cheng frowned at the self imposed distance but didn’t say anything about it. Lan Wangji didn’t move, his gaze was fixed on Wei Wuxian, unwavering, intense. A golden gaze that didn’t let anything go past him.

 Wei Wuxian didn’t allow himself to glance at him, he was sure, if he lingered for more than a second, his nature would be recognized by the second jade of Lan. He didn’t know why, but his instinct said so.

Instead, he focused on pretending everything was fine, he was good at that.

Wei Wuxian answered by smacking Jiang Cheng’s arm “Ha ha! It’s a long story. A long story!” he said with a forced smile, similar to the one he used to have, but it was tense, hurt, it didn’t reach his heart.

The tension broke. The cold, heavy air around him seemed to ease with the sound of those two hits.

Jiang Cheng wasn’t done, he lunched at Wei Wuxian, wrapping him into a tight hug that lasted less than a second, brief enough to make him freeze tense, with million worries in his head, hoping Jiang Cheng wouldn’t notice the cold in his bones or his nonexistent heart beat but none of them seemed to have reached his brother before Jiang Cheng was smacking him on the shoulder breaking Wei Wuxian out of his thoughts. “Didn’t we agree to meet at that crappy town at the foot of the mountain?! I waited for five or six days, and you never showed! Even if you want to die, could you at least do it in front of me ?! Do you know how insanely busy I’ve been these past three months?!”

‘ Well, I am dead, and I’m in front of you!”. Wei Wuxian wanted to answer, laughing at the hilarious situation only himself was aware.

Instead, Wei Wuxian swept the hem of his robe aside and sat down again at the table. “Like I said, it’s a long story.” He waved a hand, brushing it all away. “The Wen dogs were turning the earth over trying to find me. They ambushed me at that village, dragged me off, and threw me into a hellhole.”

As he spoke, Yang Mingxia crept toward him on hands and knees. Moments ago, she’d looked feral, now her face softened into something sweetly haunting, eyes sparkling with unsettling affection. She giggled and pressed her bloodless cheek against his thigh, like a pet seeking attention. Wei Wuxian leaned back against the table’s edge, absently combing his fingers through her long black hair, more as instinct than anything as they were already used to that familiarity. Though, he couldn’t deny the woman had a hint of amusement and playfulness in her eyes and he couldn’t figure out why that was.

A-ran, the boy, had grown his hair once again, looking cute and a normal two years old if it wasn’t for the grey skin and translucent body, sitting down on Wei Wuxian’s lap, playing with the hem of the man’s sleeves.

Lan Wangji’s expression darkened by the second. Jiang Cheng grimaced at the scene, visibly uncomfortable, but his confusion quickly overpowered any unease.

Wei Wuxian wanted to laugh, for these ghosts were as normal for him as any other person except for the aura he could see around their dead souls but through cultivator eyes, they must be an interesting creepy view. 

And as far as he could tell, he was doing a fair job pretending to be alive. So he allowed himself to laugh a bit and ease himself into his seat.

“What hellhole? I asked around! Questioned every person in that village. They all swore up and down they’d never seen you!” Jiang Cheng protested moving his arms around as to clarify

Wei Wuxian laughed. “Of course they did. Those are rural folk, scared of bringing trouble to their door. Why would they risk speaking up? And the Wen dogs probably scared them into silence anyway. Trust me, they saw me.” After all, they threw him to the mountain of corpses, and since he crawled out of that place he had been following the trail of white robes with red flames.

“Those old fools!” Jiang Cheng cursed, then pressed on. “What hellhole? Qishan? Nightless City? How did you escape, then? And how did you turn into… this ? What are—what are those two things? I can’t believe they actually obey you. And what are you wearing?!” Jiang Wanyin was analyzing every bit of Wei Wuxian as he talked with a frown marked on his face “Lan-er-gongzi and I were on a mission to raid the place and kill Wen Chao and Wen Zhuliu, but someone beat us to it. I never thought it’d be you! Were you also the one who messed with those talismans?”

From the corner of his eye, Wei Wuxian caught Lan Wangji watching him. That same steady gaze. He smiled despite himself.

“More or less. Would you believe me if I said I got adopted by a mysterious rich and knowledgeable master, and came out like this, then went on a killing spree?” 

Adopted was quite the generous word. Considering the mighty E-ming was against him every hour of the day with killing intent for the last month.

Jiang Cheng clicked his tongue. “Wake up. You’ve read way too many fantasy stories. The world isn’t full of secret masters and magic scrolls!”

Wei Wuxian shrugged. “See? You wouldn’t believe me even if I told the truth. I’ll explain everything properly later, when we’ve got the time.” But even though he knew that was a blatant lie, he had crafted carefully how to hide, what to say and what not.

Jiang Cheng glanced at Lan Wangji and seemed to guess this wasn’t something that should be discussed in front of others. Suppressing his relief, he muttered, “All right. We’ll talk later. It’s good to have you back.”

I’m not back.

“Mmm. Good to be back,” Wei Wuxian said, more cold than he intended.

Jiang Cheng repeated the words under his breath a few more times, then smacked him again. “You really are... unbelievable! Escaping even from the Wen dogs!”

“Of course,” Wei Wuxian replied, grinning. “Who do you think I am?”

I didn’t escape.

Every second that he stayed here, he felt like a stone was sitting on his chest, crushing his bones heavily at every passing moment.

“The hell are you so smug for?!” Jiang Cheng snapped. “If you weren’t dead, why didn’t you come back sooner?!”

Well…I’m dead.

“I just got out, didn’t I?” Wei Wuxian said. “I heard you and shijie were doing well, rebuilding the Jiang Sect, joining the fight. I figured I’d lighten your load and take care of a few Wen dogs myself on the way. You’ve worked hard these past three months.” He finished with a small smile, more sincere and soft than before, contrasting with the sharpness and exhaustion in his eyes.

That last sentence made Jiang Cheng pause. He seemed briefly overwhelmed but covered it quickly.

“Put that lousy sword away properly already,” he barked. “I’ve been carrying it around for months, and people won’t stop asking questions!” 

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji said suddenly.

Both Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng turned. 

Only then, Wei Wuxian allowed himself to look. Collecting himself and preparing for a flawless and acute power control to keep himself unwavering, to look alive.

Lan Zhan looked regal, beautifully so as always, the moonlight and candle lights barely brightening his frame and that was enough to give him an outworldly light. He looked older since the last time they saw each other, which wasn’t much, probably it was the sharpness of the war that sharpened his chin.

Meanwhile Wei Wuxian would always stay the same, if it wasn't for the clothes, his body looked almost the same as when he died, just a Yumeng Jiang disciple, well fed and strong, but also thin and pale after an almost deadly surgery and a certain death after a fall.

It was only then that Wei Wuxian finally greeted him, dipping his head into a single nod.

“Hanguang-jun.” He decided, he couldn’t allow to stain him any further. Lan Zhan lived within the light, while Wei Wuxian belonged to the shadows. He had learned the name as soon as he left the Burial Mounds. The renowned Second Lan shining through the battlefield. 

‘Fitting’ , he had thought when he learned about the title. He pictured the man dancing across the sky with his sword in front of the moon at night, bringing light and hope whenever he went.

“Were you the one killing Wen sect disciples these past months?” Lan Wangji asked. 

‘Ahh. He is mad’ . Wei Wuxian noted with some resignation, closing his eyes for a brief second before he collected himself.

“Of course,” Wei Wuxian answered, smug about it.

“I knew it,” Jiang Cheng said. Pride flowing from his voice “Though honestly… killing them one at a time? That’s a lot of effort.”

Wei Wuxian chuckled. “It’s more satisfying that way. Letting them feel what they’ve done. I haven’t even started properly with Wen Chao. And Wen Zhuliu... he chose to shield him. So I made sure he watched.”

Wei Wuxian’s smile was crooked, somewhere between cruel and far too calm as he remembered the past week hunting the Wen second heir as he promised he would, the emotions of his death swimming across his veins once again.

Lan Wangji watched him closely and took a step forward “What method did you use to control those spirits?”

The smile vanished from Wei Wuxian’s face. He looked at Lan Wangji, eyes sharpening. “I wouldn’t exactly call it that” he said, glancing down at the ghost bride, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, that made the Lan cultivator frown go deeper, subtle but Wei Wuxian saw it.

He smirked.

Good, go away Lan Zhan. You’ll be safe away.

Jiang Cheng immediately stepped in. “Lan-er-gongzi, what exactly are you suggesting?”

Lan Wangji didn’t look away. “Answer me.”

At his words, the ghostly child and the red-robed woman stirred uneasily. Wei Wuxian gave them a subtle look, and they slunk away into the shadows, vanishing with a cloud of black smoke. Only then did he turn back to Lan Wangji, one brow raised.

Honestly, he was impressed of Lan Zhan demanding with such a fervor.

“If I don’t answer, what then?” Wei Wuxian asked lazily while standing up.

Lan Wangji lunged forward suddenly, Bichen slashing with a light blue light cutting the air. Wei Wuxian dodged back three steps, brows raised in warning.

“Lan Zhan, we’ve only just reunited, and you already want to arrest me? That’s a bit much, don’t you think?” Wei Wuxian was smiling, but the stone in his chest seemed to have gotten heavier, he knew, he had prepared for this. He knew Land Zhan didn’t know, exactly what was off, but something was amiss, he was out of the orthodox path, and the righteous Hanguang-jun wouldn’t stand by it.

Lan Wangji moved with his hands, not his mouth, and Wei Wuxian parried every blow he threw at him. They were both quick and agile. After the third time pushing his hand away, Wei Wuxian rebuked him harshly.

“I thought we were friends. Isn’t it a bit heartless to fight me over a simple disagreement?” His hand twitched to grab Chenqing but he held the impulse.

“Answer me!” Lan Wangji demanded again.

Jiang Cheng moved between them. “Lan-er-gongzi!”

Wei Wuxian sighed standing by Jiang Cheng, his body flowing and fitting easily in the space as it had been all his life “It’s not the kind of thing I can explain quickly. And even if I did, what if I asked you about the Lan Clan’s secret techniques? Would you answer me?”

Lan Wangji pushed past Jiang Cheng again. Wei Wuxian raised his flute to block him like if the bamboo was as fierce as a sword “Going too far, aren’t you? Why so rigid? Lan Zhan, what do you want from me?”

Lan Wangji replied, each word slow and firm. “Return to Gusu with me.”

Both Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng were stunned.

What?

Wei Wuxian let out a low laugh. “To the Cloud Recesses? For what, exactly? Oh… your uncle hates people like me. I’m sure you’re no different. So no, thank you.” he answered quickly and playful, picturing the amusing scene of him going through the barriers of Cloud Recesses ready to be cleansed, what would happen then? He was sure he wouldn’t disappear, he was too strong for cultivation music to work even if the whole clan started playing but would his body show his true nature? Would it start to show itself as a clear and translucent undead? Would Lan Qiren give him a whole lecture of the dangers of leaving the orthodox path before it? Would they try to destroy his soul for the sins they would put above his head? How long would they take to realize there was no human to save?

Jiang Cheng interrupted his thoughts with a sharp voice. “Lan-er-gongzi, Wei Wuxian once saved you. You’ve been through life and death together. And now you want to drag him back and punish him?”

Wei Wuxian looked sideways at him. “Not bad. Sounding like a clan leader already.”

“You shut up,” Jiang Cheng muttered.

“I’m not trying to condemn him,” Lan Wangji said quietly.

“Then why take him back?” Jiang Cheng asked. “To enforce some Lan rules while the rest of us are out here fighting a war?”

One against two. Lan Wangji stood tall, eyes still fixed on Wei Wuxian.

“You’re walking a dangerous path,” he said softly. “It always takes something from those who follow it.”

“I can handle it,” Wei Wuxian replied with a smirk.

“It changes people,” Lan Wangji said. “It erodes who they are.”

‘Yes, for humans, probably. But I went through hell to control it, I’m it’s master, its my power, its part of me now. The same way the spiritual energy answers to you, the darkness answers to me’ Wei Wuxian wanted to reply, but those thoughts would stay in his head.

“I know who I am,” Wei Wuxian replied instead “And I know what I’m doing.”

“Some things are beyond your control.”

Like dying

Wei Wuxian’s smile faded. “What I do is no one else’s concern.”

Lan Wangji hesitated, eyes wide. “Wei Wuxian—”

“Lan Wangji!” Wei Wuxian snapped.

It was an immediate answer, his heart sinking heavier, a thread snapped. Whatever he thought he had with Lan Zhan, that friendship he hoped to preserve, it was gone. Long time ago, since the moment Wei Wuxian died, no, even before that probably.

Everyone said Lan Wanji hated him, right? Now more true than ever. Before, Wei Wuxian joked around it, he knew it was not real, not on the deeper meaning of it, maybe he was annoying, maybe Lan Zhan had been glad to bee free from him when he got expelled at Cloud Recesses lectures, or maybe at Qishan when he pulled the ribbon accidentally had made Lan Zhan scarily mad, but Wei Wuxian never felt hate towards him from the other man.

At some point, he thought of him as his zhiji. Now he couldn’t claim that, not ever again.

Now he felt worlds apart.

He was.

He was so tired, just a few minutes with them and it was draining all his mental energy. He wanted to die, but he already was dead.

He hated this, so much. He hid the pain behind his other emotions, his irritation and hate taking over. What else did he have?

“What do you want from me? You want to drag me back to the Cloud Recesses and shut me away? Who gave you that right?! What do you think I’m going to do, stand by and take it?”

Tension crackled between them. Lan Wangji’s hand had moved to the hilt of Bichen, knuckles white.

Jiang Cheng stepped in again, his tone hard. “The Wens haven’t been defeated yet. We need every hand we’ve got. What purpose does it serve to start turning on each other now?”

Wei Wuxian smiled bitterly. “Exactly. I’m doing my part. Who cares how I do it?” They were back in sync, like when they were children, speaking in step, finishing each other’s thoughts.

He had to resist, just a few months. To see everyone walk out of this alive and then he could vanish.

“And forgive me for saying this, but Wei Wuxian isn’t a disciple of your clan. He has no obligation to return with you,” Jiang Cheng added. “If he does go back, it definitely won’t be with you.”

At that, Lan Wangji froze. He glanced at Wei Wuxian, something tight in his expression. “I—”

Before he could finish, a faint groan from the corner interrupted him. Wen Chao. Both Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian turned away from Lan Wangji without hesitation.

Wen Zhuliu on the floor with his limbs in impossible positions from the fall, and Wen Chao, pale and barely conscious, opened his eyes to see the two of them standing before him. Two pairs of eyes looking back at the man, sharp and unblinking. Two smiles that offered no comfort.

Wen Chao stopped moving altogether. He stared blankly at them, his lips trembling. Wei Wuxian stepped forward and kicked him lightly to make him kneel.

Wen Chao whimpered in pain.

“What’s with his voice?” Jiang Cheng asked, tilting his head in curiosity.

“Not me. Just an enthusiastic fellow took something important from him” Wei Wuxian said vaguely with a grimace, it had been an accident but a happy one if you will, he thought Wen Chao deserved it.

Lan Wangji was still standing behind them, quiet.

Wei Wuxian turned, smiling politely. “The next part may not suit Lan-er-gongzi’s eyes. Would you be so kind as to step away for a moment?.” Though the words were courteous, his tone left no room for argument.

Jiang Cheng added in a crisp tone, “The mission is complete. We’ll take it from here. What follows is a private matter. Best if you leave it to us.”

Lan Wangji remained still, his gaze fixed on Wei Wuxian. But Wei Wuxian had already turned away, his eyes locked on those who had once made him suffer.

There was no space left between them for reason or compromise. Jiang Cheng stood beside him, wearing the same grim smile. Lan Wangji stayed a while longer at the threshold, unmoving. Then, at last, he turned and descended the stairs.

Wei Wuxian doesn’t let himself turn, this was him now.

Chapter Text

The road towards the war camps had been eventful…  to say the least, he was grateful of course, there was no time to linger, for unsolicited questions for Jiang Cheng, no time for him wonder why he was always on alert and fresh with three to four hours of sleep and just a few bites of food.

Why would he waste food that someone alive that needed it? But he couldn’t raise questions, so he ate the minimum, slept the minimum. He kept breathing, he kept walking, he focused on keeping his flesh warm just in case, to keep a heartbeat running. 

It was draining, more than he expected, to be on constant alert, to keep the mask of a living body at all times. He didn’t realize how much of a relief it had been to be among the ghosts and nothing else than a dead soil able to use his powers to all his capabilities and more, training and experimenting with no worries of endangering anybody or wasting energy on a body heat he didn’t need anymore. But such a privilege of existing just as he was, was long forgotten in the burial mounds. 

He felt his energy draining the longer he kept the image of a living person, not that he usually looked that much different but a pale skin resentment leaking from his pores was a clear alarm to any cultivator and he could not allow himself such a slip.

He just needed to keep one foot in front of the other, keep his chest rising and going down, keep his skin in a natural pink but not so much considering they all were at war and most were just grey of ashes on their skin and exhaustion in their eyes. All things that Wei Wuxian had to pretend to… be? 

Not that it mattered, everyone was just ecstatic they had a prominent force on their side, what was better than the Yumeng Jiang Head Disciple just raised from his supposed death? It was inspirational, every field he fought was a victory secured, talismans flying with proficiency left and right, they have known those talismans since they learned how to cultivate and yet Wei Wuxian seemed to be able to draw their potential to the last drop and attack with them as if he manipulated their energy itself, dancing around the papers as a dance of himself with the wind.

It started with elemental talismans, fire attacking the Wen settlements bringing nothing but ashes into their camps. Traps within the earth breaking it down and then reconstructing itself above the heads of the Wen soldiers with no hope to crawl up. Water drying out of the supplies of the enemies while filling their own. In the immediate fight, his knowledge and proficiency was even more astonishing, making arrays with the flying talismans on the inspirational moment, drawing new lines above the old and traditional ones, or making up some on the fly with his blood. Disciples of all sects watching him in awe, waiting for the next result of the battle and what new invention he would bring. 

“How would he kill the Wen dogs next time?”  Echoed in enthusiasm across all the camaraderie of the alliance.

“I didn’t even knew shixiong could play so well! ” Another one chimed in.

“Truly a master of the six arts” Answered woefully another joking like a young maiden.

Wei Wuxian stood straight as if getting tired was just not something he felt, even with no sword in sight, Wei Wuxian excelled where everyone struggled with. But the lightweight of the road could not stay forever, with the dragging of weeks of the Sunshot campaign, both sides started to get tired but sharper, new strategies, new plans, new routes. And then, mere tricks were not enough, having injured people more frequently than not. And before one of the new Jiang disciples got seriously injured, and he raised Chenqing it was a whole new world everyone got to see, a whole new perspective. The shrill dead sound of the dizi filled the roads as the corpses rose from the ground, their nails opening their earth with growls of rage and vengeance for the ones attacking their lands and got them underground in the first place. 

‘You want vengeance? It’s yours’ Wei Wuxian said through his music as he raised the corpses and gave a purpose to the forgotten ghosts. ‘All that anger, all that sadness. Use it, I’ll help you’ 

The dead attacked the Wens with no mercy whatsoever, letting their primal instincts take over to rip their flesh apart, breaking their swords and spirits before taking their final kill. 

That first glance of what Wei Wuxian was capable of was received with applause and cries of victory, it was the first time in three months since the start of the Sunshot Campaign that no cultivator of the alliance had left the battlefield not only alive but unscarred. It had been a night of singing among the campfire mixed with bloodlust. 

 But even then he could feel the piercing eyes of Jiang Cheng scanning his very being, sensing the wrongness, not in the cultivation per se, but on Wei Wuxian. But even during his brief questioning and Wei Wuxian brushing everything behind jokes and laughs, the sect leader gave up, as everyone had one thing in their mind. 

Revenge.

It was consuming, it could be smelt into the air, if they died right then and there, Wei Wuxian was sure the only one who wouldn't become a ghost was his Sect Leader, the only one of the present ones of the group that had gotten through the proper rites in childhood. 

Unlike Wei Wuxian, who was a ghost under their very noses and not a single one felt the undead energy in him, deep down a tiny seed of pleasure and pride bloomed in his chest. Sure, those kids weren’t really talented, mere new disciples raised by the need of a war and a Sect trying to survive and rise, and yet, the closer the got to the main battlefields, Wei Wuxian was certain he had perfected a delicate energy control to keep his ghost signature hidden. He was yet to test it around more skilled cultivators but as for now, no one questioned and it could be easily hidden behind the excuse of ‘Demonic Cultivation’ as some started to call it.

Wei Wuxian hated that name.

He didn’t work with demons or anything of the like! He worked with ghosts! Souls! If anything it was ‘Ghost path’! He had complained, but they had already made up their mind and it was that.

So, Demonic cultivation it was.

He sighed in the solitude of the night watch.

Some suspected, sure, but his glorious antics against the Wens and the death of Wen Chao kept the attention exactly where he wanted to, especially with some of the younger and new cultivators in the ranks. 

They paid attention to the fact that every Wen fell if they had the poor luck to cross paths with him.

Even if there were corpses, even if there were ghosts. Wei Wuxian controlled them, and made the Wens fall.

Who cared about anything else.

Even Jiang Cheng was proud. Or maybe proud wasn’t exactly the world. Jiang Cheng was blind. Blinded by revenge and bloodlust the war provided. A common sight among everyone and one Wei Wuxian found himself trying to replicate. He wondered if he was alive he would be like them, but in his current state he felt far away and present at the same time, his mind was as clear no matter what, he felt emotions, but he wasn’t drowning in them. Maybe it was because he felt no exhaustion, no hunger, not a desperate need to live another day. 

Because he was already dead.

He played the part, he stood proud, confident, knowledgeable and even a bit arrogant if needed. Nobody would notice that if he let his mind slip his body would turn strangely grey, or when he was in the middle of a conversation he seemed to be looking grassy to the emptiness of the night instead of his companions.

And even if Jiang Cheng asked, he knew perfectly how to shift his attention elsewhere, how to push his buttons so he could get annoyed and think on something else.

It was fine.

“Wei Wuxian!” A pair of hands dragged him out of his tent, dragging him by the ankles but Wei Wuxian didn’t even react in surprise, just checking his body warmth to be slightly cold, not dead corpse cold, he nodded to himself and turned his head. He hadn’t been asleep, just pretending he had while planning some arrays he wanted to test in his mind to occupy the time.

“Jiang Cheng!” Wei Wuxian grumbled like he used to “It’s too early! Not even the Lans are awake!” he said rubbing his eyes looking up at the sky, night sky! When did Jiang Cheng wake up so early?! The sun should be up in an hour at best!

“Shut up!” Jiang Cheng grumbled having absolutely no respect for the other Jiang disciples sleeping nearby “I don’t have time for your nonsense. Get up! An Jin came saying Wen dogs are going towards Jiangling, Shijie is there” 

Wei Wuxian sprang up like he had never been sleepy at all, not even asking for breakfast like old times or a complete check of the situation, he just started springing towards the forest “I’ll catch you there!” he shouted like he had forgotten something or had something in mind. 

“Wait— Wei Wuxian!” Jiang Cheng followed yelling into the night, but by the time he reached him, Wei Wuxian had vanished into the bushes with no track on his heels “What the fuck is going on with him?” Jiang Cheng muttered, frustrated. He turned back toward the tents, grumbling under his breath and cursing his brother, who lately seemed useless in everything except the middle of a battle.

Moving day to day was one thing, with too many people and some injured, they couldn’t just fly on swords all the time, they walked and rode horses. But emergencies took the able ones and flew towards the point. Wei Wuxian just couldn’t do that.

So, he moved differently. He made excuses. He still carried his sword, for a short amount of time before throwing it out on his appointed tent and forgetting it there until Jiang Cheng would throw it at him once again when packing up. 

He preferred to slip to the shadows, Hua Cheng had his butterflies, Wei Wuxian had the shadows.

He could travel miles in an instant, preparing the battlefield with ruthless efficiency. First, he summoned the nearest ghosts, asking which corpses still held souls willing to fight. Then, with a grim command, he ordered the ghosts to dig up those bodies. Raising both the willing dead and the soulless, rotten husks alike. They moved silently onto the field, ready to wait for his signal.

Honestly, it was pretty easy, considering the sheer number of corpses and souls around these days. Cultivators had neither the time, energy, nor inclination to perform proper burial rites for enemies or allies when rushing through war. Resentment accumulated in the lands, poisoning the cultivation world itself. Night hunts had been overtaken by rogues and monasteries, but with the main Sects waging war and leaving death wherever they marched, it would take years to restore the lands of the living to their rightful state.

For Wei Wuxian, though, it was an opportunity. The ghosts were eager for revenge against the Wen dogs, and he let them have their way. Even if their deaths had nothing to do with the war, redirecting their hatred and resentment mostly resulted in their liberation.

A win-win, if anyone ever asked him—which, of course, they didn’t.

They only saw an army. A weapon.

Then he would wait, hidden, for the cultivators to arrive. When the moment was right, he’d step out as if he’d just arrived—like he was late to the battle but had been commanding his corpses from a distance all along.

Technically, he could control them from afar, but not that far… not yet. Besides, it was easier to see exactly what was happening, to time everything perfectly. More importantly, he had to make it look like he had come with his sword, just a bit later.

A tricky act, especially since his brother was always returning his sword or waiting for him to stand by his side.

And then he would let the souless corpses do the work, Chenqing singing in every battle he was present, directing them what to do, who to direct their anger and who to save.

He had to admit, sometimes things ended even before the cultivators arrived, with the corpses doing their own thing before he had started giving them directions.

Today was one of those times.

“What—” Wei Wuxian heard from the road behind. Jiang Cheng dumbfounded when thirty Wen cultivators lay dead with a rather gruesome sight, with limbs torn and disfigurated faces.

Wei Wuxian sighed, these particular souls had been quite hateful for the Wen soldiers, recognizing some. He hadn’t even tried to stop them but he hadn’t planned to finish everything so quickly either. He knew how it looked like, like if he had lost control or lost his temper, neither was good for him.

Well, they had already seen.

A piercing note of his dizi and the corpses stopped their attacks to the already dead Wen cultivators “Sorry, these guys were rather excited” Wei Wuxian said, jumping from the tree branch he was lying on, landing next to his Sect Leader.

“Are you sure you control them?” Jiang Cheng asked with a frown pointing at the scene, the corpses now stood by the sides as if they waited for another instruction.

“Of course!” Wei Wuxian grinned, crossing his arms behind his head in a relaxed pose, his dizi still dangling from one hand as always. “Don’t you see them? They’re calm now. These Wens are dead, task completed!” He pointed at the corpses with his flute and with a swift indication of his wrist, he pointed them towards the forest.

Right on cue, the undead began to move. Stiff and slow, they turned back toward the pointed direction. Then, with a dull thump , one by one, they began searching for their original graves… or whatever undisturbed patch of ground they’d clawed their way out of.

Jiang Cheng seemed to still being unable to grab his head around the new cultivation of his brother, much less the other cultivators behind the sect leader that looked between horrified, disgusted or confused but all of them had a simple awe and amusement behind their feelings, wherever they wanted to admit it or not, it was fascinating for them.

Jiang Cheng simply shook his head and turned back “Wu Li, Jia Hao, Jian Zhu. Go back and help everyone reach Jiangling safely” he instructed the Jiang disciples who nodded and took off on their swords without a single delay leaving a smaller group with Jiang and Lan disciples still with them, and the Jin that had informed them.

Then the sect leader turned to Wei Wuxian “How did you arrive before us?” Jiang Cheng said, clearly puzzled.

Today he hadn’t had the time to process his usual ritual to hide the truth, his mind had been on Shijie who waited ahead and stopped the Wens before that point. He had forgotten to wait hidden. But before he could make an excuse, Jiang Cheng, once again, threw his forgotten sword at him.

“Ahh—” Wei Wuxian laughed idly catching the sword and tugging it on his sash alongside Chenqing “I took a random sword on the road” he answered vaguely

Jiang Cheng sighed “Stop forgetting your own sword” he snapped pointing at Suibian “Come on, it's a ten minute fly from here” he said, already taking Sandu and steading himself but no further movement, his piercing eyes on Wei Wuxian waiting for something.

Waiting for him.

Wei Wuxian’s eyes flicked to the sword under his brother’s feet in alarm, but he hid it behind a dramatic sigh. “Jiang Cheng…” he whined, pouting and kicking a small rock. “I rushed all the way here. Add controlling the corpses, I’m drained and tired! Take me?” he asked, leaning on his brother with exaggerated pleading.

“Tsk. Your legs still work, don’t they? Walk” Jiang Cheng growled, chin tilted up.

Wei Wuxian nodded with a shrug, as if he had expected it, and started walking toward Jiangling, seemingly resigned to the long hours ahead.

Then a couple of grumbling courses with no really clear voice ranged behind him, a hand appeared on his peripheral vision “Last time, Wei Wuxian! This is the last time and only because A-Jie would kill us both if we arrive separate with the Wen dogs still on the road”

Wei Wuxian beamed, focusing on the warmth on his hand as he grabbed his brother’s and jumped behind him, steading himself with his hands on Jiang Cheng's shoulders.

"Just a couple of months” he repeated to himself.

“When Wen Ruohan dies I can leave”, he sighed in silence, leaning onto the back of his brother, steady and firm. A sect leader with too thin of a frame for all the things he carried on his shoulders. “ No. More. I have to stay longer” he decided, closing his eyes for a second.

He didn’t know how, but it had to be fine, it just had to.

Jiang Cheng needed him, Shijie needed him, Lotus Pier needed him.

He wouldn’t allow them, any of them to know.

Not yet.

Not ever.

Chapter Text

“Shijie!” Wei Wuxian screamed with all his lungs allowed as he ran towards the petite figure crunched on the floor of the camp as she stirred a caldron with soup. 

For a moment Wei Wuxian forgot everything, he was the Lotus Pier boy, the Jiang head disciple, Jiang Yanli and Jiang Cheng’s brother. His body felt solid, he felt warm when his arm looped around Jiang Yanli’s back, bending to hug her properly as she did the same. Her head rested against Wei Wuxian’s shoulder as he hid his face on the crook of her neck, taking her presence, her familiar smell, her comfortable energy. 

Very rarely they hugged like this, especially since they outgrew their children’s bodies. For anyone watching probably it was the most inappropriate behavior, the whispers starting next to them like wild fire, he wasn’t their blood but in all ways that mattered, they were siblings.

So, he didn’t care about anyone right now. It had been months since they had seen each other, it felt like a lifetime ago.  

And in truth, it was.

Wei Wuxian probably was ‘living’ on borrowed time, and he would use it to make sure his family was safe.

Wei Wuxian felt tears struggle to come out, red eyes fighting letting tears drop. Not only his need to always hide his emotions and pretend everything was fine. No, this was his ghostly nature fighting to keep up to reflect his emotions as they should be. He could feel the accelerated beats of his heart beneath his skin, the warmth of his body colder than Jiang Yanli. His focus divided keeping a facade and actually let himself feel the relief of his sister alive and well.

With his eyes closed didn’t see the face of Shijie, crossing eyes with Jiang Cheng, a silent pleading for him to join, as she sobbed against her brother’s shoulder. It was a tight hug, desperate and relieved. 

Even if it was for a second, he felt alive.

“A-Xian, you look so pale” Jiang Yanli frowned softly leaning back, her palms gently taking her brother’s cheeks looking at him as she assessed over his wellbeing status, her red eyes trying to stop crying but unable to, just as Wei Wuxian that felt like a little boy sobbing onto her arms, his face leaning with a small smile against her touch.

She felt warm.

He was not, his warmth was fake, a fake pill that he forced everybody to swallow.

“I didn’t take many sun baths these months” Wei Wuxian sobbed-laughed.

“At least you look well enough, Shijie would be sad if you had lost weight” She finally declared after taking him in “Come on, lets get you settled” she said starting walking with a hand on his back leading him as Jiang Cheng followed them from behind with the same red rimmed eyes. 

If anyone in camp noted them, no one said a thing as the siblings disappeared behind the Sect Leader’s settlement.

“You are lucky A-Xian” Jiang Yanli said after all of them calmed down and cried their tears dry “I knew A-Cheng was coming back so I had prepared something special” she said as she settled the table with a pot and three bowls.

“No way! Shijie, really?!” Wei Wuxian beamed at the pot, he didn’t need to be told what it was to know what it was, the smell was indicator enough.

“A-Jie! Where did you even get lotus seeds?!” Jiang Cheng said, stunned when he received his bowl after Wei Wuxian. Usually he would complain about the preference, but this time he didn’t have the heart, especially seeing that smile on his older brother, he hadn’t seen him this energetic in a long time. Since he found him torturing the Wens he had been trying to figure out what part of his brother was left, slowly and cautiously he had started to see Wei Wuxian again, but even his laughs were strained and fake with no intention to even pretend they were true.

He couldn’t blame him, even if he hadn’t said anything, it was true the last months hadn’t been gentle to anybody, it was war. Everyone was lost to themselves.

But it was nice, having a glimpse of the old times.

“A gift from Nie-gongzi for patching up one of his robes last month when I was in Qinghe. It came with the last shipment of food” Jiang Yanli said proudly as she settled her bowl. 

Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli stopped for a second, it couldn’t be seen into their eyes, but they were waiting, Wei Wuxian hadn’t taken a bite.

It was strange. Wei Wuxian loved the soup, loved Shijie and was always the first to drink it even before the last bowl was served when there were only the three of them.

Wei Wuxian had been staring at his bowl. A soft nostalgic eyes staring at the soup with a spoon ready to dip but not ready to. It was a waste, he didn’t need food, this should be eaten by Jiang Cheng. He was the fighter now, he needed food, spiritual energy and rest. Food would be best for his brother.

Wei Wuxian didn’t, it was a waste.

“Wei Wuxian!” Jiang Cheng snapped, brows furrowed. “Don’t just sit there letting it get cold. You think Shijie made this just so you could stare at it?” His tone was scolding, sharp, but he didn’t move, didn’t start eating. His chopsticks hovered over his own bowl, unmoving, as his eyes flicked to Wei Wuxian’s.

Defeated, he picked up the spoon and began to eat, slowly, cautiously. But as soon as the first spoon took over his mouth, he couldn’t stop. Not out of hunger, not really. But with something closer to desperation. He drank in the warmth, the familiar taste, the memory of comfort it carried.

For a moment, it felt like he was allowed to have this.

Just this.

The warmth of the soup had long faded, but the silence between them hadn’t. Learning how to be, finding their way into each other was something they had to re-learn. Even if they could play pretend, it didn’t last longer than a few minutes before falling into silence.

They had changed, all of them. The Wens took everything from them, from everyone, they shaped them into soldiers and put a cloak of desperation over their young shoulders.

There was still grief, there was still sadness, sacrifices, loneliness, duty. Too much to say and feel and no time to absorb any of it. 

It didn’t work to push into old habits, especially towards Wei Wuxian who refused to wear the Yumeng colors once again, the only thing that the siblings managed to press onto his black and red regalia were vambraces with silver lotuses threaded delicately against the leader. He didn’t snap, as everyone thought considering the demonic cultivation he had started to be known by, everyone knew the consequences, mentally and physically. Wei Wuxian showed none and yet the whispers filled the air, following Wei Wuxian like a bomb about to explode.

But it was the opposite, Wei Wuxian when provoked, he just turned the other way, he withdrew into himself and became silent.

At the silence and awkwardness Wei Wuxian provided, the Jiang siblings had learned better than to ask impulsively, so they didn’t.

It had been a few weeks, but they tried to stick together, at least for meals, while Wei Wuxian still tried to eat the minimum for his siblings to eat more, but they did the same and ended up in an impasse, so they all made sure to divide the food as equally as they could. 

How would he explain he had no need of food for them to worry about? So he ate.

How would he explain he had no need to sleep so he could keep watch? So he stayed in his tent near his siblings and just tried to sleep or meditate.

“So?” Jiang Cheng said now, breaking the quiet. His teacup lifted to his lips like it was wine, his posture loose, legs sprawled carelessly, more like the sulking teenager he used to be than the Sect Leader he was becoming, the one with a scowl seemingly etched into his face. 

Shijie was smiling fondly to no one in particular as he served another round of tea for the three of them, sitting back with the delicacy of a flower as perfect as always, once she was done. Turning then to look at Wei Wuxian with expectant and big eyes.

Wei Wuxian just wanted to run away from this tent right at this moment, how could he look at Shijie in the eye and lie to her?! His heart hurt just thinking about it, forcing to keep that trained smile on his face as he turned from her to Jiang Cheng and then back at her.

They were waiting.

Answers, right. 

It had been a while, he had been eluding them but probably he had run out of excuses.

And then all the crafty lies and stories just seemed to have vanished from his mind.

He was screwed.

Heartbeats, warmth…he focused on those things, while he had those things in check, he could figure something out. 

He just had to look alive, not a big deal, he had been alive, he felt somehow alive, in a strange way but enough to just be.

“A-Xian” Shijie said softly, calling him out of his mind, right? It had been a while since he hadn’t said anything.

When he had arrived at the camp he had been so happy to see his Shijie that everything had been well, for a day. Until the questions started to flow, the soldiers, the cultivators, everyone were curious. How could they not? Wei Wuxian was declared dead by Wen Chao for three months and suddenly Wei Wuxian was alive and Wen Chao tortured to death with Wen Zhuliu. The news and whispers of his corpses and new talismans had already started to spread, wary looks mixed with proud and excited smiles had jumped quickly. 

‘Now we have nothing to fear!’

‘The Wen dogs will see!’

‘Serve them well!’ 

Wei Wuxian heard those praises while knowing and wondering how long they would last, this was the tip of the iceberg and he had already noticed some frowns and disgusted faces between the masses.

Quickly enough when everything started to be too overwhelming, he stole his siblings and hid them in Jiang Cheng’s tent, soon to realize that probably was a mistake too. Jiang Cheng did not waste a single second to call upon the long due and waited answers he had promised.

“Don’t listen to them, you look very handsome in those robes” Jiang Yanli said softly with a gentle smile. Probably she was happy he finally let go of the cotton Jiang robes he insisted on wearing back in the day, even if she wanted him to wear the same silk of Jiang Cheng, he had known it was not his place. Even for formal events he did not dare to call Madame Yu’s ire by wearing something above his station.

Which was the current problem, everyone asking how he had gotten such fancy robes that were nicer than his own Sect Leader.

“Thanks” Wei Wuxian cleared his throat, idly rubbing the back of his neck. He had forgotten about his wardrobe until now, he could tell Jiang Cheng scanning the rich fabrics and the flute tucked in his waist and Shijie’s eyes following the details of the guan and hairpin. It wasn’t the first time wearing these things, he had just gotten used to them and actually put himself together after the insistence of Hua Cheng.

He still couldn’t understand why Hua Cheng had helped him, and for a solid month had trained him with his ghost abilities, but the cultivation of resentful energy had still been his own doing, learning how to fit both had been easier than he had thought. 

The man, even in the end, seemed reluctant to offer help. He wasn’t the helping type—deals and business, maybe, but not charity. All he ever asked of Wei Wuxian was not to make His Highness’ job harder and to stay out of their way. Wei Wuxian still didn’t know much about this mysterious man.

The man never answered personal questions. Ever. He was just impossible to crack. Not even Lan Zhan had been that reserved. He remembered being grumpy for an entire afternoon after receiving nothing but a blank stare, bored and stoic, clearly on the edge of snapping. That’s when Wei Wuxian realized he really wasn’t going to get anything from him. So he stopped asking.

Still, when they finally said their goodbyes, Hua Cheng had handed him a pouch of money and five sets of robes. Three made for the road and battle, two formal enough to rival Huaisang’s clothes. Even if the patterns and styles were of his liking and things he would have worn. These were of finer and intricate silks and threads his fingers had ever touched. All of them were luxurious.

When Wei Wuxian complained, all he got was an icy look, a quiet threat and a quick and meticulous training of how to arrange himself from an unknown ghost with a mask, who Wei Wuxian assumed was Hua Cheng’s servant by the way he behaved around the man. 

He felt if he refused to follow the instructions he would may as well fell the wrath of the Supreme ghost, which was a ridicule thought over clothes but he didn’t want to tempt his luck just yet.

And to be fair, it’s not like he could be taken seriously anywhere with rags and dirty clothes of a dead man. So he wore them. 

And, somehow, he got used to them. There were times he felt as if an invisible hand rested on his shoulder, steadying him whenever he stumbled. He couldn’t connect that feeling to the cold, red ghost, but it was there. And in his loneliness, he’d grown greedy for the scraps of comfort he could get.

Between ghosts, he had found something that felt like understanding.

“So, rich and knowledgeable master, huh? I remember you saying something like that when I found you” Jiang Cheng insisted, raising his eyebrows in clear amusement. There were a thousand questions hiding between his eyes but clearly he didn’t have the courage to ask all of them yet, he was cautious, and so was Wei Wuxian.

Wei Wuxian rolled his eyes. “Sorry I didn’t swing by the market for something more war-appropriate. Got any of my old clothes lying around?” he asked, all mockery.

Maybe it was petty, they had lost everything that was at Lotus Pier. But this was the only way to move them away from any true answer.

“No”

“Then this is all I have” Wei Wuxian leaned back smugly. He knew some people wondered about it too, but what was the option? Walk naked? To wear the Jiang sect robes would burn his skin because of their spiritual protection against resentment? Wear the clothes of a man he wasn’t and will never be? He wasn't a Yumeng Jiang disciple really, any contract and loyalty was supposed to die with them. 

And Wei Wuxian was dead.

‘You have to dress the part’ Hua Cheng had said, throwing at him a set of black and red robes similar to what he had wore as a Jiang disciple but these where quality-wise similar to Jiang Cheng’s quality of clothing. 

Wei Wuxian nodded awkwardly and went to take a bath and change just because he was tired of his tethered ones that were barely holding together.

Who would have said this weird ghost had brought him to his mansion to take a simple bath and change clothes?! How did a ghost even had a mansion anyways? 

Wei Wuxian grumbled, stepping out from behind the privacy screen with damp hair still clinging to his neck. He had barely managed to glance toward Hua Cheng before a ghost woman — dressed in bright silks, with a playful smile and makeup a little too bold — grabbed his wrist and sat him down in front of a vanity. “Wait! — I’ll do it!” he protested.

“Nonsense,” Hua Cheng snapped, not even looking up as he played with his braid. With just a flick of his hand, the woman went right back to working on Wei Wuxian’s hair after looking for approval from the older man.

Wei Wuxian sank onto his chair, he had already learned the hard way you didn’t argue with the Supreme Ghost unless you were asking for a headache. Literally.

“They’ll see nothing more than a servant,” Hua Cheng said coolly, his voice low. “A servant’s son. The arrogant boy — adopted, but never accepted.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about!” Wei Wuxian frowned, trying to turn around, only for the woman to spin his head back toward the mirror with no patience. She worked expertly through his hair, now dry thanks to some magical fan she waved, and began crafting a simple yet elevated style, half-up, secure and elegant. “I don’t need any of this!” Wei Wuxian grumbled, exasperated. “I’m a simple guy! This’ll just bring more trouble than it’s worth!”

‘Make them see you through your worth through your power, skills and words’ Hua Cheng said dangerously, standing just behind him by the side to not interrupt the woman ‘And for that, you have to break them first through your appearance as shallow as it might seem’

“I don’t care what they think,” Wei Wuxian snapped, slumping slightly. He was too tired for this. That morning he’d still been coated in two months’ worth of dried blood — and now here he was, being pampered by the weirdest guy he’d ever met and a ghost hairdresser he didn’t even know.

“Good,” Hua Cheng snickered, clearly amused. “But acknowledge the fact and work with it.” He handed a silver guan adorned with butterflies to the woman, who nodded and carefully placed it in Wei Wuxian’s hair.

“Since when do you wear jewelry, anyway?” Jiang Cheng growled, taking Wei Wuxian's thoughts out of his thoughts. Eyes flicking to the silver guan and hairpiece on his hair, he understood the confusion, he had never worn anything above than leather before.

“A-Cheng” Jiang Yanli said soothingly tapping her brother’s shoulder with a soft smile turning to Wei Wuxian “It suits you A-Xian” she complimented sincerely with a nod “But I also wonder, would you tell us?”

Wei Wuxian looked down for a second, his thumb brushing the edge of his cup as he thought what he could tell “A benefactor… you could say” he started “It was only for a month! Before that…” he trailed off, he knew he had confirmed he had been gotten by the Wens, but he preferred leave it that “Anyways, he said this war was a pain in the ass for him, so if he could get me back on my feet and send me to war, I was doing him a favor” he stated

“And the robes?” Jiang Cheng prompted with a circling motion of his hand “I had to drag you to the tailor to get you fitted for your ceremonial robes and A Jie to bribe you with soup for your hair…and now you are… this?!” He threw both hands at Wei Wuxian, gesturing up and down at the man in exasperation.

“Well, he just threw some clothes and talismans my way and said ‘go cause trouble for me instead.’ Worked out, didn't it? It even has some protective charms like the Lan’s so who am I to throw out a perfect and fancy shield?” Wei Wuxian shrugged “What? Are you jealous that I look better than you?” he teased with a grin.

“Who is jealous of—?!” Jiang Cheng growl got interrupted by a soft gentle hand of their sister on both their shoulders.

“A-Cheng. Behave” she scolded without really intent, but was enough to make the man sit back down “A-Xian… who is this man?” she asked then, worry clear in her voice, a hint of curiosity, like she suspected there was more behind it than he let on.

At least they were not asking about his sword or the corpses or his cultivation like Jiang Cheng on the way here.

Wei Wuxian shook his head with a loose shrug. “I called him Hua-shifu to annoy him and the name stuck. I forgot his actual name” he said vaguely “I was…recovering. He just put me back on my feet and asked me to stay out of his way. That’s all.”

Yes, that was all.

All he could tell.

But he wasn’t really known for his luck.

Chapter Text

Wei Wuxian was glad to keep moving. 

People had less time to ask the more they moved, the exhaustion was dragging, weeks had passed.

But as emotionally tired as he was, his body didn’t feel the same as his mind insisted he should be feeling. 

“A-Xian, come and eat with us, you haven’t eaten all day” His sister would call, and just then he would realize that it was already afternoon, he had spent all day redirecting disciples to different tasks while Jiang Cheng went to war meetings with sect leader Lan, trying to coordinate all the minor sets and rogue cultivators that joined everyday.

“Don’t worry Shijie, I ate earlier” He would answer, because the more the weeks dragged, he could see the rations going thinner, the sleep of the alliance going lesser the more they advanced in their efforts. It was no good to waste resources in the dead.

Everytime someone fussed and tried to drag him to check for injuries he would just turn around, sometimes he even snapped at the poor unfortunate that carried the message. He could feel sorry about the way he kept everyone an arm's length, but it was necessary.

He could fight, the corpses obeyed, the souls told him where Wen’s were, directions, information. He just had to move, be their weapon. If he kept the living alive, then he had nothing else to worry about.

It was known, wherever Wei Wuxian went, it was going to be a success. Even with the numbers of the Wens, he had more souls and corpses available. The only problem it seemed to be, that the bloodiest the battle was, the more souls screamed straight into his skull, the more whispers talked to him. 

He would turn his head thinking he was talking with a disciple of some minor sect, and by the strange looks he would get, he could figure that soul wasn’t a living one. The cultivators had no idea the amount of unresting souls that lingered, not only in battlefields, even in small villages with no tragedies to fall upon yet, there where always dead ones around.

Which turned upside down everything they had been taught as cultivators. Their duty was always to deal with the dead and lingering spirits, to guide them into the cycle of reincarnation or to eradicate them before they caused trouble for the living. Yet in truth, the number of spirits that actually became dangerous was small, only those were actually recognized by cultivators.

Wei Wuxian had once caught Zewu-jun and Lan Zhan handling a haunting in a village. It struck him that they only dealt with a single child’s spirit, when he himself could see five.

That was fine. He was simply more attuned to the dead. When the others slept, he would tend to the spirits on his own. It gave him practice in concealing his presence, until he was no more than a whisper, a trace, a faint shift in the air that ghosts might sense but cultivators would never recognize.

He would deal with the spirits that wanted to move on, ask for help or offer them to follow him. Some offered to join him even before he laid out the options.

“News travels fast, faster in the ghost realm” One of the ghost kids answered  “Especially a wrath level ghost with the power that is dangerously close to a Supreme. Why aren’t you a Supreme?”

“How would I know? I died a few months ago”  he answered with a laugh “You can’t expect me to be powerful like that”

At this the one of the kids frowned “You can’t. You are too powerful to be a new ghost. Did you go to Mount Tonglu then? Wait, no, the mountain hasn’t opened in a while. Jiejie! How long ago the mount opened?” 

A girl spirit smiled sweetly “I don’t know. Many generations ago I’m sure. Our nephew died of old age even before the Wens came to this village” she answered. She looked no older than ten and yet she talked like an old soul.

“What are you talking about kids?” Wei Wuxian asked.

The first child’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Our bodies can’t carry us to long travels, but we felt the call once. Every ghost went crazy! Gege, it was noisy! Some screamed in pain, others fainted, I felt feverish! We felt the pull but we couldn’t travel. But every ghost that passed talked about the same thing. Going to Mount Tonglu! It seems you can become a Supreme if you win the battle there” 

“Battle?” Wei Wuxian parroted with his eyebrow raised up.

“Yes! Battle! Everyone against everyone! The winner gets those amazing powers! They even look human! I mean- Alive! And shapeshifting and all. Have you heard of crimson sought rain flower?! He is the coolest! And scarier, I definitely don’t want to cross paths with him but he defied the heavens so that’s cool!”

Wei Wuxian shook his head with a sigh, he would have to ask Hua Cheng if he found him again. With the kids' excitement he couldn’t actually follow. He had a war to win to be worried about ghost stories. 

He just played a little more with them before sending them on their way to the reincarnation cycle, except for the little girl.

“We were Wens. Once” She said “It wasn’t always like this. Will you help me? To see our story, not to die with Wen Ruohan?” she asked.

He thought of Wen Ning, the timid boy with nothing but the desire to do the right thing against the dangers of being caught by his own clan, saved Jiang Cheng and recovered his parent’s bodies. 

He thought of Wen Qing, the last person he talked to alive. Who he thanked to have taken his golden core to restore the life of Jiang Cheng and the Jiang Sect with it. 

He really hoped they were alright.

“I’ll try” It was all he could promise.

Without realizing he had managed to gather a quiet group of silent small ghosts that fell by the hands of the war, had started to help him. And as the kids had said before, the news did travel faster by ghost ears.

He had mapped Wen movements with a few conversations, strategies talked by careless generals, hidden traps, names. All of it.

And he had tried, as subtly as possible, to inform this.

But, it was hard.

He had no way to explain it.

“Jiang Cheng. If it comes from you they might listen” Wei Wuxian insisted.

“You think they will listen to me?! With what proof? How do you even know they are going west so we can take Langye?” Jiang Cheng raised an eyebrow incredulously.

Wei Wuxian took a deep breath. 

Everyone thought he was a demonic cultivator anyways, the wary eyes and gossip increased towards him by the day, his reputation as the bright promising First Disciple of Jiang seemed to have died with him and only remained a demonic cultivator tamed by the Sect Leader Jiang. That was fine if it was useful.

Everyone celebrated, even if he dug up corpses and made them fight. After months of battle, the cultivation sects finally were fighting back.

“I can feel it, through the energy—” Wei Wuxian stopped to try to process it into cultivation words “The resentful energy gathers around the Wen Clan, sticking to them because of the deaths they bring without reason. It’s moving”

It wasn’t exactly a lie, a real demonic cultivator, if one existed, would have said that. 

“Fine!” Jiang Cheng relented “Give me some time to talk with the leaders in private before doing anything”

They had been requested in Langye to a new gathering and regroup. 

Jins, Lan and Jiang were planning an attack on one of Wen's offices. The days had become busy once again, Wei Wuxian stood by Jiang Cheng side at every battle and every gathering, but his mood was wavering with every question and gossip that circled his way and he kept silent to his answers. 

Jiang Yanli had refused to go back to Qinghe or to Lotus Pier. She followed her brother’s as far as she could, helping with cooking, making stock of the supplies and attending the wounded, even with the low cultivation of her she still transferred her energy to the most critical ones, avoiding many losses among their ranks.

Wei Wuxian couldn’t help but feel some ease into the storm, he would stand by their sides, they were well, they were here.

Annoyingly, so were the Jin’s. The few that deigned to show up.

And one specific one decided to be exceptionally stupid, to the point that made Wei Wuxian’s inexisting blood boil.

“Whad did you say?!” Wei Wuxian demanded gripping tightly onto Jin Zixuan by the neck of his robes. Rage was all he could feel, how dare he once again doubt of Shijie’s character?! He hasn't even talked to her properly to judge any of her actions or words. 

“Mind her conduct?” Wei Wuxian asked tilting his head coldly towards Jin Zixuan who stood in the middle of his tent awkwardly but certain of his actions as the crowd gathered, Jin disciples defended their young master while Jian Yanli cried at the corner silently, idly standing near Wei Wuxian. His shijie well-mannered had never shed a single tear in front of anybody except the other time when she hugged him and Jiang Cheng when they found each other after so many tragedies following their clan.

Wei Wuxian snapped as his sister’s cries tore through the room. In a blur of motion, he stepped forward in front of Jin Zixuan, his figure a sudden shadow in the candlelight. A sharp crack echoed as his foot connected with the man's chest. The force behind the kick was unnatural, inhuman, a spectral burst that sent Jin Zixuan crashing backward like a ragdoll, slamming into the desk with a violent crunch that split the wood into pieces and knocked the breath from his lungs. 

It was quick, screams that filled the room went suddenly still.

A chill swept in after the blow like if a storm had entered the room. The Jin was staring at Wei Wuxian disbelieving in his eyes, his muscles sore and hurt making him unable to move, this was nothing compared to the punch at the lectures, just a couple of years ago, how could someone reach such heights in the span of a few years? No, maybe months, Jin Zixuan guessed. 

Three months was the correct answer but nobody could testify of that. It wasn’t just that new cultivation, it was his whole self, his highness senses, his focused eyes that analyzed every aspect of the room he was in, the way he seemed to know beforehand every move of the enemy, in battle seemed to be hearing at someone where to direct the corpses, the corpses who were more than mere puppets, looking more like loyal servants that once their task was done, they were happy to return to their graves or next to their master.

Wei Wuxian had changed, and this was the first time since his return that everyone seemed to actually feel the change.

But Wei Wuxian wasn’t done. Still bubbling rage inside him, the resentment that carried since the Burial Mounds brewing inside his body, it just needed a little spark to grow, as that was the one that hurt the people he swore to protect, as little as the offence was, as little sense as it made. His mind felt under water, darkening between the shadows of the whispering voices of the ghosts that died in this place across generations, across the war.

It was easy to just let the shadows take over and win the war in his stead.

Step by step, he advanced toward the fallen Jin Zixuan, each step echoing with quiet fury. The golden heir coughed, blood spilling from his mouth as he struggled upright, dazed eyes lifting just in time to meet Wei Wuxian’s. There was no lightness in that gaze now, only something cold, heavy, and ancient pressing down like a storm about to break.

Staring up at him, Jin Zixuan’s breath hitched. He flinched as Wei Wuxian raised his fist, black sleeve shifting with the motion, fingers curled tight and trembling, not from strain, but restraint. Jin Zixuan closed his eyes and braced for the blow.

“...ian…A-Xian!” Jiang Yanli’s voice echoed through Wei Wuxian’s ears, but didn’t seem to reach. She sounded desperate, why couldn’t her voice really reach him? Why was she calling him again?

Everything felt underwater. Muffled. Echoes drowned in a flood of something heavy and thick under the mud that was his mind.

“Wei Ying!” A clearer voice cut through, anchoring him, cold and sharp, but clear, like the water of the cold springs in Cloud Recesses. Never meant to do harm, but to help, healing. But there wasn’t anything to heal anymore.

A hand gripped his wrist, stopping him from going further to the next hit. His arm halted mid-motion, muscles going slack beneath that steady hold.

He turned slightly and met Lan Wangji’s gaze. Nervous. Focused. Struggling to keep his grip.

Even Hanguang-jun was having trouble holding him back?

Dozens of eyes were piercing his skull, and he had trouble realizing which were living and which were dead. He felt some laughs echoing, those were dead, definitely. Nobody would be laughing right now except someone who didn’t care at all and those were always the dead.

The realization pierced through the haze. Wei Wuxian’s breath caught, snapping him out of whatever had overtaken him. Slowly, dazedly, he looked around at the horrified expressions, the dumbfounded silence left in the wake of his strength, the outraged faces of the Jins being held by different kinds of disciples, the scared eyes of Jiang Yanli with tear marks down her face.

Fuck.

Wei Wuxian looked back at the hand that was keeping his arm in place. He felt ashamed, he frowned, he wouldn’t like to be seen losing it this way in front of Shijie, much less in front of Lan Zhan.

He had made Shijie cry and Lan Zhan to frown.

He was afraid, what if Lan Zhan noticed something? He was sure, deep within, if someone was going to discover him, it was going to be him.

He barely managed to make a sweep of acknowledgment around the room, everyone were silent, in utter shock but slowly, the Jin disciples regained their composure and screamed enraged because of their sect heir with some surely grave damage, as he still refused to move as his eyes were fixed on Wei Wuxian’s. Looking for something.

He had to get away. He had to push away before it was too late.

Lan Zhan belongs to the light.

Wei Wuxian belongs to the dark.

Lan Zhan is alive.

Wei Wuxian is dead.

His peripheral vision narrowed, covered by darkness and blurs at the corners, leaving a single path to follow his gaze.

He tore his gaze away from the Lan, snapped his arm back, and stormed out of the tent without a word.

Control it

Breathe

But how can I breathe when no air goes through my lungs? When no heart beats in my chest? When no spiritual energy runs through my meridians?

No, that’s not right.

Even alive I did not have energy.

Dying was a favor, I have power now.

And yet.

Wei Wuxian couldn’t breathe. 

The air wouldn’t go in. It clung to his throat like smoke, thick and bitter, and no matter how deeply he tried to inhale, it wasn’t enough. His chest ached with the effort. Something was clawing at the edges of his mind, curling its fingers around his lungs.

He staggered back from the camp, boots slipping in the blood-soaked earth. The sounds of people calling for him, whispering among themselves, wary steps making a path for him to follow away from everyone, the clatter of the lunch starting to get prepared, the smell of the medical tent and the blood and the screams from within. Everything warped and dulled like he was underwater. Too close, too loud, too much.

Someone was calling his name. Or maybe not. The noise didn’t make sense anymore.

The voices echoed through his mind, there were too many souls, too many ghosts. So tiny that not even cultivators could hear them, but Wei Wuxian could, he could sense them, hear them, see them. He was part of them, that was undeniable, now more than ever, now that he was out in the sun and he couldn’t feel it’s warmth, now that he couldn’t pretend the cold night in the Burial Mounds was just that, a cold night and not the dead cold in his body that no longer produced heat and he didn’t even felt it as such. 

He was empty.

He was dead.

His fingers dug into his robes, his skin, as if he could peel something off of himself. Something was wrong. Something heavy and invisible that refused to let go.

He sank down behind a tree or a rock or maybe just the edge of the hill, unable to stand anymore. His body curled in on itself, shaking.

Jiang Cheng will see.

Shijie will see.

Lan Zhan will see.

They’ll all see.

They’ll know.

The corners of his vision dimmed.

He couldn’t stop trembling. He pressed his fists against his temples, trying to silence the spinning thoughts. But they only grew louder.

You are dead.

Stop pretending.

They’ll know.

And you’ll die.

And you won’t protect anyone.

And Jiang Cheng will die.

And Shijie will die.

And Lotus Pier will fall for good.

The Jiang Sect will perish.

And Lan Zhan…

“Wei Ying” Wei Wuxian flinched so hard his whole body jolted. He turned around with bloodshot eyes, the breath caught in his throat. Ready to fight, to run, to fall apart.

But it was only Lan Wangji.

The younger of the Twin Jades stood a few steps away, composed as ever. Somehow, even in the middle of war, even in the filth of an improvised camp, he still looked untouched. Still elegant. Still… him.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian rasped, the name barely making it past his throat.

“You are not well” Lan Wanji noted, his expression unmoved.

No shit,  he wanted to snap.

He refrained to a roll of eyes.

Wei Wuxian’s fingers curled around Chenqing almost instantly. “Again, Lan Zhan?!” he rasped, exasperation coating every syllable. He let out a long sigh, looking down at the dirt beneath his boots, forcing himself not to snap, but it was getting so exhausting. “Why are you here?”

“Wei Ying left” he said as if it as the most obvious thing.

Once upon a time, Wei Wuxian had been proud of how easily he could pull reactions from him, even the smallest flicker of expression had felt like a secret reward. He wanted the Lan to look at him, and he had felt he understood him, at least a little bit.

He knew he wasn’t the boring cold person everyone thought he was.

Not that anyone believed him but he knew, and he was proud of it.

But now? Why was Lan Wanji so insistent? Repeating the same things over and over again as if it would do something.

Why of all people, had to be Lan Zhan?

You are making everything harder than it needs to be! Everyone is praising my ways! We are winning! Wen Xu is dead! Wen Chao is dead! Wen Ruohan is all that’s left and we can all go home!

Wei Wuxian laughed a sigh, tired of his own thoughts rather of the matter at hand.

Was there even a home for him to go back? It didn’t matter, with some luck he wouldn’t even be around after the war to worry about those things. Maybe his lingering desire is to defeat the Wens and then he would pass on to the next life and he wouldn’t need to deal with anything else.

“Yes, I did. So?” Wei Wuxian frowned, guarding himself behind the mask he carefully crafted, becoming his second skin.

“You are not well” Lan Wanji repeated, taking a step closer, a hand laying on Bichen as the other was clasped behind his back. His ever present posture not giving in at all.

“I was just tired looking at the peacock. He did enough damage as it is” Wei Wuxian muttered.

So did I. Wei Wuxian’s thoughts echoed.

Jin Zixuan will have to stay out of battles for days with that hit alone.

Wei Wuxian grit his teeth, the pressure sharp in his jaw. Annoyed. Annoyed at Lan Wangji for following him. Annoyed at himself for letting go, for losing control like that. A low grunt escaped him as he turned away sharply. Only then did he realize they weren’t even near camp anymore. It was still visible behind them, but they had crossed the boundary, already half-lost in the scattered trees that marked the forest’s edge. Long shadows draped across the ground, drawn by a sun now high above.

Has it really been hours since breakfast?

When did that happen?

“Resentful energy damages the body and mind” Lan Wanji recited like an old tale “Come to Gusu with me” it was like a mantra at this point. 

Wei Wuxian, was so tired to hear it.

I AM RESENTFUL ENERGY.

It will not come out.

You cannot cleanse it out of me.

That's all I’am now!

Lan Zhan! If I cross your borders, I will disappear.

I’m a ghost.

I’m dead.

Will you hate me? Once you realize?

But I cannot leave.

Not yet.

Maybe…when I’m done…

If you care enough…

You will be the one to…

It would be a relief to die by your sword.

Wei Wuxian’s grip on the dizi became such that his knuckled were turning white “We are winning the war with this” he said coldly “That’s enough” 

“At what cost?” There was something indecipherable for Wei Wuxian in those golden eyes, nobody had ever looked at him that way.

“As much as it takes” The ghost answered, turning away, almost a whisper, more vulnerable than he allowed.

Words solely for Lan Wangji. 

His feet dragged him away.

Wei Wuxian had to walk away.

He didn’t want to.

Lan Wanji stayed still.

He didn’t want to.

Chapter Text

Wei Wuxian was aware, more than most, more than before.

He didn’t need to hear directly what the cultivators were saying about him, as much praise surrounded his name and his victories through battles and insights in meetings. Nothing would appease the storm Wei Wuxian was sure it was going to come eventually towards him.

Demonic cultivation they said.

Close enough, he did indeed cultivate resentful energy and created talismans and arrays with it based on his own cultivation knowledge, he was sure if he was alive it would still work but it would take a toll on his body and mind without a golden core to purify it. Still, there was nothing demonic on the way he used it.

Still, the main strength came from within, from his own soul, from his death, from being a ghost.

From a wish himself didn’t know he had made, a lingering desire to stay within the realm of the living, forcing his soul to stay. So strong that the resentment that usually made ghosts lose their sense of self only made him stronger and more aware.

Not that he could explain it, so he let them harvest their theories wild and rampage as they pleased. For now he was a genius and their victory card, how long would stay that way, was a question he didn’t want the answer to just yet.

To every battle he walked through, he raised the corpses and ghosts followed him without him even asking them to. By the time the bloodbath ended and the Wens were slain, the Lan cultivators would start playing their music and putting the souls to rest. Some souls made refuge around him to avoid being cleansed without permission and forced to go to their next life with unfinished businesses. He never thought about it but that was what most of them did, didn’t they? Only few cultivators really went to the root of the problem.

“Lan Zhan” Wei Wuxian called to the cultivator with a guqin playing a different melody from the rest “Inquiry?” 

“Mn” He nodded without rasing his eyes or stopping his playing.

It was a permission to be there, they still fought a lot and they still found their way in the battlefields and the aftermath, sticking together and realizing later. He had come to accept and expect such a steady presence by his side, and on the contrary to the rest of cultivators, he didn’t find his existence to be threatened by him.

“Did you find someone?” he asked. Even if he knew the answer. He could see the young man standing in front of them, he could hear his answers, his voice clear and he knew nobody else did.

“A young man” Lan Wangji answered “He wanted to know if his sister was okay” a stop “I can’t give him an answer, he got angry” he said a bit regretfully.

Wei Wuxian nodded. 

“Can you ask if she was with him before he died?”

Lan Wangji answered by sliding his fingers through the guqin, letting the music ask and get answers.

“Yes”

“Anything else that holds him back?”

The cultivator played another set of notes and shook his head.

He picked up his flute and played a melody, it wasn’t a particular song, his way was to show emotions and intentions. He had learned a bit of musical cultivation thanks to a couple of ghosts but it would never be to the high level of yang cultivation from a living.

‘There aren’t any more souls around here. They are already cleansing lingering energy to not let anything else be summoned. Go find her in your next life’ 

Wei Wuxian’s music was soothing and emphatic, nothing like the shrill of death of the active battles and yet he could hear steps of people going away as much as they could. He shook his head amused.

‘You can see me’ The ghost said, looking straight at him, Wei Wuxian didn’t acknowledge him with so many eyes around. The guqin played.

‘No’ Lan Wangji played the notes with a small frown that Wei Wuxian didn’t see.

‘Yes’ Wei Wuxian answered through the flute.

‘Can I stay?’  The ghost asked, hopeful.

‘No’ Lan Wangji played. Definetive, his fingers ready to change notes, seeing the ghost attachment, fearing for it to become resentful and dangerous.

Wei Wuxian turned and put a his fingers lightly on top of the guqin, staring straight into those golden eyes, amused by the frown barely perceptible if he wasn’t so close “Lan Zhan” he called with a softness in his voice “Let him stay”

“Wei Ying! If the resentment fester-” 

“I’m a cultivator too, aren’t I?” Wei Wuxian frowned at such book answer and scoffed. Crossing his arms and stepping away “This one won’t do anything, if anything, he will protect this village”

“How can you be sure? In a couple of months he could—”

“Then I will come personally in a couple of months to check” He interrupted once again “He is not ready to move on, one day he will be. Wasn’t that the reason you are playing inquiry instead of rest? Will you force a soul to do something they don’t want when they are being peaceful?”

At that, Lan Wangji had nothing to say. With a sharper swing of his sleeve, the guqin disappeared under it and he turned away.

Wei Wuxian sighed and turned to the ghost “I didn’t get your name” he said once he was sure to be out of earshot.

“Thank you, for not letting him to make me disappear" The boy said with a small bow “Han Yexuan”

“Why do you want to stay?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe I just want to see how the war will end” he shrugged. “Cultivators forget the commoners too easily unless we actively have a problem and sometimes not even then. We were invaded by the Wens who demanded food and yet it was your bunch that ended up destroying the village and killing without even checking who we were”

Wei Wuxian nodded “I’m sorry, how did you die?”

“A Nie. I think. Didn’t even check for my robes”  he sighed, already accepting his new reality “You are not even one of them, why do you help them?”

“I was. Once”

“Hmm” the boy tilted his head amused “Will you allow me to join you? I feel I can get a front row that way” 

Wei Wuxian chuckled under his breath “If you behave”

The more the alliance advanced, the more complicated the battles were, the more cultivators died on different fronts. The less losses were on Nie Mingjue’s front, wherever Lan Xichen was and where the Jiangs were, including Hanguang-jun who suspiciously chose to be around the latter more often than not.

But the numbers were reducing considerably, even when Zewu-jun added intel from a secret source into the mix, it helped but not enough. Nothing could match the absurdity of the Wen dog’s numbers and strength. They weren’t skilled but the main generals had way too much spiritual energy to be nobodies with no name recognizable.

So to match, Wei Wuxian had to raise more corpses, hide into the night and far away up into the trees or buildings in case his appearance slipped with the amount of energy he was handling. He knew Nightless City had at least half of all the deployed amount, waiting for them with fresh energies. He would need something to match up the game soon.

He was deep in the forest, flute against his lips to pass the time and recover energy from the day, only for a voice to cut through the night. The mist barely stirred before her figure coalesced, translucent at the edges. He was grateful most ghosts had to focus hard to materialize, unlike him, who had to spend energy just to remain unseen. Otherwise he would have a couple of cultivators already on the way.

“Gongzi! Why do you let them talk like that?!”  Yang Mingxia protested every time she came back from scouting. Pouting like a kid with her fists in the air at her endless complaints.

Wei Wuxian just chuckled as he waited for her to calm down as she recounted, outraged in his stead by everything she heard about him on her way through the different camps. She always liked some gossip, especially after leaving the Burial Mounds, but anything around his name always made her angry.

He was used to having people talking about him, about his parentage, about his arrogance for staying within the main halls of the Sect Clan, for reaching above his station. At least, the unorthodox cultivation and demonic nature was refreshing and it only included his name.

The night was cold, but none of the present felt it. At first it had been disconcerting, when he lost his golden core all he could think of was the pain and the cold. When he woke up again, the chill to his bones and the pain had been even worse only to recede into nothing as he realized it was just a phantom sensation, his mind trying to make him aware he didn’t even have a body anymore and what it looked and felt like a body was a physical manifestation of power by his own unconscious manipulation. 

It was still strange, nonetheless, no feel a chill cold deep within himself worse than he ever felt and not feel it like such. 

But in these quiet moments in the night, faraway from any living and among just ghosts, he could recover the energy he fueled daily into the facade of a living body. 

“Why are you sulking?” The Wen girl he recovered days ago from the cottage and decided she wanted to stick around was frowning at him like a grandma, so he couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“Who is sulking, Xiaomei?” Wei Wuxian answered amused, crossing his arms “I just had a long day, and if you two would leave me alone I could meditate a bit” he said, dropping to the ground in a lotus position to make a point.

“Then who would keep your wards steady so they don’t see you, huh?” Yang Mingxia said amused tapping the wards that were clearly faltering around their little meeting in the middle of the forest. A little tap from the bride and the red glow flowed through it and made them clearer and steadier “And your inability to reach your emotions is always an entertainment” she said with a giggle sitting next to him and placing her head on his shoulder.

“You are sulking” The Wen girl insisted

“I’m not,” he answered , closing his eyes. Meditation was different now. Before, he would read for the Yang energy around him, drawing it into his golden core through his meridians and storing it, making it spin, making it warm. 

Now he reached for Yin. Cold and chaotic, running through him, asking it to join him. He could feel his very presence getting steadier. He could feel his body firm against the ground, the clothes texture against his skin, the chill of the night and the presence of death around the whole forest. There were a couple of corpses, new ones.

“You defied the laws of everything that existed only to join this war, you could have done it as a ghost in secrecy, you could control a whole army of the dead towards Qishan if you so wished. But you don’t. Because you want…Jiang Cheng was it? Yanli and Lan Zhan to perceive you as you were, but you are not. But you want them, you want to stick around and you cannot do that if they push you into the reincarnation cycle” The Wen girl said tapping her cheeks in thought.

“Where did you even learned all that?” Wei Wuxian turned his head towards the girl.

“Han-ge!” She said giggling.

“Of course he would,” he sighed. He just met the ghost and he was the bane of his existence already.

There was a moment of silence as the energy resettled inside his bones, ignoring the girl. Maybe he was breaking all the laws, who cared. It’s true if he just assaulted Nightless city there would be less casualties than pretending to be just one man in a army than a one-man army he actually was. 

“Wangji” Wei Wuxian opened his eyes with a frown “He doesn’t like when people call him by his given name”

“Why are you the exception?” She asked peeking up with amused eyes

“I-” He stops and shakes his head “We just call each other that way- It’s been a long time. It’s not important” 

Somehow, he felt a pang against his chest.

“Is it not?” Xia-Jie turns to look at him with a smirk as she leans away “He can’t even see us, why would he care how he is called by some ghosts?”

“Dont” Wei Wuxian insisted standing up “I should go back, the sun will start to rise soon. I don’t want Jiang Cheng not finding me in the tent again”

They were far away from the camp they were staying in. The cultivation clans were getting closer and closer to Nightless city, everyone was on edge. The wounded were far more than those who were not. Shijie had stayed back at the last camp, at a secured city within Lanling tending to the most grave injured, Wei Wuxian and Jiang Wanyin had insisted, from now on there was only fight or die. They couldn’t risk her.

The livings were dead asleep and the ghosts were wide awake. A Small meeting hidden in the forest, as small as it was, their ghosts signatures together would alert cultivators, and the last thing Wei Wuxian needed was to fight stubborn deaf cultivars with the Wens at their throats.

Who would even want the willing help of ghosts when their upbringing was to eliminate them at sight?

“Don’t ignore me! This is serious!” insisted Yang Mingxia. Wei Wuxian wasn’t even sure what she was talking about at this point.

“Xia-jie. Let them talk, they are kind of right anyways” he shrugged with a little laugh that didn't quite reach his eyes.

“Don’t bother, Master loves the living too much” Han Yexuan sighed to the bride “as undeserving as they are” he muttered under his breath.

Wei Wuxian sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose “How many times I have to tell you to stop calling me that?” he said tired of old conversations, tired of war, tired of having to be on edge every day, tired of his constant energy draining to keep his skin looking humanly alive. Tired of the accusatory looks, tired of the hypocritical glorified stares, tired of the whispers of his powers, tired of Lan Zhan hovering near but not enough, watching him with eagle eyes waiting for him to slip, to carry him to Gusu and drain the resentful energy out of him before locking him up for good. “Just- Tell me what you saw so I can go back to my tent before the Lans wake up”

In quick succession, other ghosts joined. And somehow, he felt at ease being around these particular ones.

Yang Mingxia, Han Yexuan, Su Lanyin, Zhang Rong, Lao Jian, Cheng Nuo. They had proclaimed themselves his “generals,” and as much as Wei Wuxian tried to make them drop the name, even if in practice, they kinda were. He always found himself asking them for help, and they had fallen into a routine without realizing it since he had left the Burial Mounds and he had joined the war.

Each of them had been among the most conscious and powerful of the spirits that followed his call. Yang Mingxia, a bride whose love had turned to regret; Han Yexuan, a commoner boy unlucky enough to be slain by a cultivator; Su Lanyin, a frail farmer’s daughter who had never known mercy; Zhang Rong, a general from a kingdom long forgotten; Lao Jian, a servant of the Nie who had betrayed his masters five generations ago; and Cheng Nuo, a wealthy merchant whose greed for influence had earned him a place among Wen Ruohan’s casualties.

Su Lanyin, with her always-confident stance of the eldest daughter trying to make her family survive harsh winters, spoke first.  “There’s still movement near Luoyang. Small Wen garrisons making rounds. The cultivators from Yuhang were nearly ambushed, but they sent one of their own ahead and barely escaped. A couple of Jins are injured, but with rest, they should be alright.”

Han Yexuan followed.  “I ran into a few Wen strays near Shangqiu. Just scouts, though. We scared them off with Wen-meimei and some errand souls. They went back to their last post,” he added, puffing his chest proudly.

“I said not to engage,” Wei Wuxian sighed, though it was clear he was resigned to Han Yexuan’s antics. 

He turned to Zhang Rong to ask him to continue. The man looked old, and yet he stood proud like the soldier he was—his ghostly figure stern and precise.  “We should not waste time attacking strongholds. The enemy expects a frontal siege near Xuchang. Instead, we could move from Luoyang, bypass Xuchang to the west, and split forces between Sanmenxia and Nanyang to encircle from the south. It creates a pinch point without giving them time to regroup.” The man spoke firm.

Wei Wuxian smiled weakly.  “As much as I agree with you Rong-shushu… ” he trailed off, looking back at the camp—still asleep, except for the guards on night duty and the small fires keeping warmth with the winter so close. “Even if Jiang Cheng says those exact words, I have nothing to back it up more than ‘some ghosts told me.’ They won’t listen to me or to Jiang Cheng. His leadership is still fresh and young, and nobody listens to me. Furthermore, I don’t have proof or living witnesses.”

“Do you want living witnesses?” Lao Jian smiled, brightening at that.

“Don’t even think about it,” Wei Wuxian stopped him, Lao Jian was capable to threaten some Wen soldiers but Wei Wuxian couldn’t allow more questions to form, so he stuck with information and playing the part of Jiang Cheng’s right hand man for now.

Lao Jian sulked, kicking a pebble under his feet. “You don’t need to rely on them. You already have an army of corpses and ghost—and powe,” Lao Jian replied, crossing his arms.

“Not enough to go against all of this by myself. I would get all my energy depleted by the time I reach Nightless City.”

Cheng Nuo, once a merchant, tapped his chin thoughtfully. The resentment of his death still fresh—he was the most volatile of them, yet the most insightful. “If I may, the Wen still get supplies through Anyang. I know the merchant routes. We could cut them off with a minor detachment—minimal risk, but high impact. It would weaken their food lines. We are not as powerful as you, Wuxian, but we can still hold our ground, even dead. We can deal with those and give you time to make up a story with the information gathered, and filter it through the camp.”

Wei Wuxian looked between the two of them.  “I think I can get Jiang Cheng to get us to move across broken mountain paths to attack the Wen outpost and get that office under our control. It’s doable.” He tapped his knuckles on his dizi.

Su Lanyin hummed. “If you get the Lans to take Luoyang, then pivot fast, avoiding Xuchang… then the rest can hit Sanmenxia and Nanyang from both flanks, trap their reinforcements. And a small team to disrupt Anyang’s supplies.”

From the side, Lao Jian snorted, hands behind his back like a gossiping servant.
“You’re all too serious. No one’s mentioned Zhengzhou. I heard the Wen general there is terrified of flute sounds now.”

Yang Mingxia giggled.  “I did walk past them, a little hum and they froze in place.”

A rare chuckle escaped Wei Wuxian.  “Let’s give them a reason to stay afraid, then.”

“Oh, gongzi! Old man Pei is keeping watch on your Shijie. He is a minor ghost and with the resentment all over the place he is camouflaging spectacularly" Yang Mingxia added clasping her hands.

Just with that Wei Wuxian felt a weight out of his shoulders.

He glanced over them. Even now—even like this—they were his people, a company that had kept him sane in all this slaughter and fear to be discovered that haunted him every day. A bride, a merchant, a soldier, a teen, a servant, a farmer’s daughter. Ghosts, yes—but more alive in loyalty and passionate than many cultivators he’d known. He respected them, and appreciated their help more than he could ever put into words.

“Thank you,” Wei Wuxian said softly, the whisper escaping his lips with a smile that was almost shy.

They all smiled in return, nudging each other in celebration of a job well done—before rushing toward him, tackling him like a little brother, a nephew, a friend. Mingxia-jie hugged him so tightly he thought he might break; Lanyin restrained herself to a single, firm squeeze of his arm. Han Yexuan gave him a proud thump to the chest, Zhang Rong ruffled his hair with a dry chuckle, Lao Jian jabbed an elbow into his side, and Cheng Nuo simply offered a small, knowing smile.

But every single one of them warmed his heart.

Wei Wuxian appeared in the mist of the night, materializing in camp with the soft hiss of black smoke curling into a man’s shape—half shadow, half smile. His boots barely made a sound as he landed on the rooftop, where a bottle of liquor waited faithfully like an old friend. He dropped down beside it, tugged off the cloth stopper with his teeth, and took a long swig.

His legs dangled over the edge, swinging slowly. Above him, the moon dragged itself across the sky like it had nothing better to do. Must be nice, he thought. No battles, no strategies, no screaming dead people to keep you up at night.

Right now, he could pretend. Pretend they weren’t marching toward another bloody sunrise as the sky started to tint red. Pretend the wails of restless ghosts didn’t echo in his ears every time he closed his eyes. Pretend he wasn’t about to do something deeply stupid and probably irreversible.

He sighed, his mind really couldn’t keep still. He tilted the bottle again, tapped it thoughtfully with one finger.

How exactly do you tell your sect leader and brother that you’ve got a ghost army ready and roaming the country gathering information.

 “Oh, don’t worry, Jiang Cheng. They followed me home like stray cats! Very loyal I tell you, you can trust them!” Yeah. Like he’d ever take ghosts as a reliable source. He would probably swing Sandu at the air on principle.

Wei Wuxian sighed again to the sky, as if it might offer some divine answer. Or at least a better bottle of liquor.

Would the gods even listen to a stray ghost who refuses to pass on like he should? 

He shook his head and focus on the next meeting.

Lan Xichen will smile, say something polite like, “That’s certainly… interesting, but we can’t rely on…ghost information,” and then focus on his own letters.

He groaned and leaned back on his elbows.

“Maybe if I call them ‘informants’ it’ll sound better.”
...Yeah, and maybe Lan Zhan would drink with him.

He squinted up at the sky.

“They’re going to kill me,” he muttered under his breath.

“No one’s going to kill you,” came a voice. Sharp, annoyed, and all too familiar. It was heavy with sleep and irritation, and Wei Wuxian didn’t even need to turn his head to know who it wa “But I wish I could. Where were you?!”

He jolted upright like a startled cat.

“Jiang Cheng!” he blurted with a nervous laugh, already scooting the bottle a bit to the side like it might erase the evidence. “What are you doing awake?”

Jiang Cheng looked like a thundercloud with a sword strapped to it. Arms crossed, forehead drawn tight, hair slightly tousled—he was not in the mood.

“Why else? I went to your tent to tell you something last night, and you were gone. I’ve been walking around this damned camp all night looking for you!” His voice rose as his temper flared, hands thrown in the air. “I was about to head outside and check if you were digging up some cursed corpse! Or maybe I was looking for your corpse! How would I know?”

Wei Wuxian winced theatrically. “You wound me, Jiang Cheng! Have a little more faith in your genius brother.”

Jiang Cheng gave him that look. The one that said, I have known you since you were five and I’m not falling for this shit now.

Wei Wuxian grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “In my defense, it was already dead. Spiritually, at least.” He joked, but not really.

Jiang Cheng didn’t laugh. He just exhaled, tense and tight. He was tired of Wei Wuxian’s stunts, and right now, he had no energy to deal with them. “What the hell are you doing up here, anyway?”

Wei Wuxian flopped back onto the roof like he had nothing to hide. “Thinking. Drinking. Staring at the moon. You know… classic cultivation stuff.”

“Classic cultivation stuff would be you, sword in hand, by my side on the way to Xuchang!” Jiang Wanyin interjected, arms crossed.

Wei Wuxian smiled, but beneath it, he just wanted to crawl back to his tent and sleep the day away. “About that—”

“Don’t come at me with your shitty excuses. We’re going to Xuchang, and you’d know that if you’d actually attended the last meeting!”

“But Jiang Cheng—”

“No. Don’t. For all I know, you’ve been drinking instead of standing by me when I had to deal with Zewu-jun and Jin Zixuan—who, by the way, you still have to apologize to” he said grunting, even if it clearly hurt him the idea of being polite to the Jin.

“Apologize?” Wei Wuxian frowned, caught off guard. He knew he’d lost control that day. He never meant to actually hurt him, but still, the intention stood.

“Yes! Because my first disciple hit the Jin heir, and I’m the Jiang Sect Leader, and politics are killing me!” Jiang Cheng said, exasperated, stealing the liquor from Wei Wuxian and taking a long sip “How did you even kick him so hard? I haven’t seen you lift a muscle since you came back and you broke three ribs! He hadn’t been able to go back to fight yet!”

Instead of answering, Wei Wuxian pulled some papers from the folds of his robes—a neat organized system of war strategies and routes. A plan for the next two weeks across all the fronts they were tackling, with information of the important Wen Sect members leading each one, numbers and positions and proposal of strategies. The calligraphy was precise and knowledgeable.

It was a plan written by Zhang Rong, gathering everything the group of ghosts had collected.

“I went to pick this up,” Wei Wuxian said, handing it over to Jiang Cheng. For a moment, his brother looked at him like he’d grown a second head—unable to fathom how Wei Wuxian had gotten such a thing.

Wei Wuxian sighed, taking pity instead of making a snarky remark. “Please. Support me with this,” he pleaded, serious for once “I’ll explain to you later. But right now, we are running late”

“You still have to apologize to Jin Zixuan,” Jiang Cheng reminded him “I don’t want to keep dealing with the Jins complaints and it’s getting embarrassing how they don’t listen to the peacock”

Chapter Text

“I cannot take this” Lan Xichen said simply, with a soft sigh leaving the papers on the table.

“WHAT?!” Jiang Cheng answered in a fit of rage, slamming the table making the map under his hand to wrinkle, the paper weight trembling and the whole room to go quiet.

The meeting had been longer than expected and midday was approaching, it was no secret the Jins preferred to be anywhere but here, they just managed to drag Jin Guangshan because there was a promise of taking Nightless city in a couple of months and the final battles around the edges of Qishan were soon. 

Lotus Pier was yet to be recovered, but that was on schedule when the new batch of disciples that wanted to join the Jiangs got trained— which Wei Wuxian wasn’t sure when that would be considering he looked for the battles farthest away from the disciples when they were in the training phase. Once they got that done, it would be a matter of time and resistance rather than pure power to breach the Wens. Wen Ruohan remained to be the toughest challenge but as last resource Wei Wuxian assumed he could deal with him but he had the feeling his soul wouldn’t leave unscarred then, so he tried to not leave it to that. 

Tracking anyone that had lived as a Jiang disciple at some point was being as difficult with the ongoing war too. The Jiangs just had too many things to do aside from fighting at the front.

Jiang Cheng was loosing patience and the stress was bottling up with the pressure of being the one leader that wasn’t really taken seriously, bold of the rest considering he was not prepared to be sect leader yet and yet he did took the mantle with no second thought and rebuilded their numbers during a war and everyone was relying on the Jiangs to recover the river so they could get provisions easier.

Nie Huaisang shrank back behind his fan, eyes wide, trying to make himself as small as possible near the edge of the room. Jin Zixuan, standing beside his father, was shooting uncomfortable glances toward Wei Wuxian. The latter had made a half-hearted attempt at an apology earlier—at Jiang Cheng’s insistence—but then the rest of the sect leaders arrived and left them with no time and an awkward situation even if Wei Wuxian still didn’t forgive his behavior towards his Shijie. Jin Zixuan had only frowned harder since then, barely meeting his gaze.

Lan Wangji stood like a statue at his brother’s side. Only the faintest twitch of his brow hinted at any reaction—Wei Wuxian almost missed it. 

And Jiang Cheng, of course, was still fuming beside him, a storm barely restrained. Wei Wuxian could relate, they were expected to take over Yumeng with barely any help and yet their battle plans were not even considered and if they followed as currently, they were going to lose.

He just knew where the Wens were, they were expecting them. It would simply be stupid to just jump right there where they wanted them.

The issue was…The Jiangs weren’t the most credible people in the room lately with Wei Wuxian new cultivation and widely controversial and the young Jiang Leader who didn’t seem to mind and consumed in vengeance.

“We already have a plan, a solid one” Zewu-jun said softly but clearly, standing tall and decisive, leaving no argument.

“Zewu-jun,” Wei Wuxian said, stepping forward to stand beside Jiang Cheng, until now he had leaned back trying to not draw attention, he was already tired and too many sect leaders with astounding cultivation with a bit more of focus they maybe could have sensed something wrong with him aside of the resentful energy. For now they hadn’t seem to notice but he wouldn’t let his guard down “We delivered a full report with multiple new possibilities. Four strategies, each with contingencies based on enemy movement. These aren’t guesses. These are tracked Wen patterns and logistics. So why aren’t they being considered?. If we go forward with the attack on Xuchang, we’re going to lose and I would very much prefer to keep the deaths of allies to a minimum” His voice cooled as he spoke, the edge of frustration lacing every time he talked about death. 

He had to personally lead so many cultivators souls to the reincarnation cycle before they turned into vicious ghosts and he was mentally getting tired of it, especially when so many clearly just got drafted out of necessity.

“Because I don’t know where this information comes from as you refuse to disclose it” 

They don’t believe you. 

They never will.

It will never matter.

You aren’t even supposed to be here.

Wei Wuxian took a sharp breath, his heart pounded, echoed with the voices of the undead that the cultivators didn’t heard, or were just too busy to deal with them.

If they didn’t listen he had to make them. If he could remain to be the only casualty, if the rest could stay alive. 

Then it didn’t matter anything else.

His brother glared at him as he saw the shift on Wei Wuxian’s demeanor, followed by a warning and a nod. 

“With all due respect Zewu-Jun. Personally I don’t know where your intel comes from and yet I’m trusting the safety of our people and many others on it. I can guarantee Wei Wuxian, as everybody else, wants to end this war as soon as possible. We have more information and solid plans. Knowing the existence of it, I cannot in good conscious my cultivators towards a place that could very much be a trap” Jiang Wanyin insisted standing straight and looking at the eldest Lan straight to the eye.

“I trust my informant” The Lan insisted with the smallest of frowns forming. Lan Wangji seemed tense considering the slight pursing line on his lips.

“And so do I with mine” Wei Wuxian said, lifting his chin, eyes locking with Lan Xichen’s. Defying.

For a minute, there was utter silence. 

For all that Wei Wuxian always was loud and obnoxious he always had been quiet when it mattered, maybe it had been Madam Yu’s presence, maybe it was the desire of not being thrown away by uncle Jiang or maybe it was just the fact that at some deeper level he knew his place even if his attitude reflected otherwise.

But being dead, and for the first time being around these people that focused on riches and social standing and rules of their own making had given him a sense of clarity he didn’t even know it was possible. With every passing day he felt a veil over the world of the living where he knew he had no place anymore and couldn’t care less about their way of life. 

Everyone died at the end and all of their precious jewels and clothes would disappear at soon as they walked through the path of reincarnation, one Wei Wuxian apparently had rejected subconsciously to at least make sure the ones he loved did. 

‘Even dead, you are a self sacrificial fool’ Wei Wuxian thought bitterly with a hint of amusement.

His ghostly companions had made him realize a lot of things too, especially considering most of them were commoners or cultivators that weren’t gentry to have gone through the rites of calming soul.

Wei Wuxian could be called anything, rising above his station, arrogant and orthodox. He didn’t care, he should, maybe he did at some point. Not anymore.

He just needed to ensure the safety of people and let them stay alive.

He didn’t back down. A Silent declaration as he defied the sect leaders in the room.

Lan Xichen sighed “Their maps show me this is the best course of action. And it’s not only Jiang cultivators, we are sending some Lans and the Jins will join you as well. Led by my brother and Jin Zixuan respectively. Wouldn’t you say we are showing support and that we trust this plan?”

“So you are saying there will be three heirs risking their lives and you are not considering the possibility of a change of plans against a very possible trap?” He pressed on coldly.

Don’t let them see.

Focus.

Breathe.

Keep your heartbeat running, you must keep color on your skin, energy on your presence.

Energy…

Dark…

“Wei Wuxian!” Jiang Wanyin grabbed his brother by the arm janking him back with a hiss. 

Coils of resentment had started to gather on Chenqing, which he was gripping so tight that his knuckles went white. 

The Nie’s sabers rattled in their grip.

Lan Wangji took out his guqin and without prompt started playing calm.

He jolted awake.

Fuck.

“Xichen” Nie Mingjue said, but even if he was calling at the sect leader, his eyes were fixed on Wei Wuxian that for a minute he thought the man was glaring deep into his soul.

The single word cutting through the tension. Everyone froze.

But Wei Wuxian was attentive to something else entirely by now, he was wondering why he felt resentful energy in the camp more concentrated this morning. At first he thought it was just the fact they were on a cleared battlefield but it wasn’t it. The Nies had arrived and with them those sabers reeked of it, especially their sect leader, if he focused he could feel the dark coils making their way into the meridians, tainting the pure golden energy.

‘Huh’ Wei Wuxian thought with his eyes lost on Baxia ‘Stupid but interesting. I wonder if Nie-xiong would let me burrow his saber to check what is it about’

“Xiongzhang” Lan Wangji said suddenly calling the attention of the room still playing the soft melody. Even Jin Guangshan tilted his head slightly, intrigued. “Let Wei Ying explain” Lan Wangji said, still facing forward, voice calm but firm not looking at anyone in particular.

And just that, he felt steady once again, his grip on his flute lightning and letting his hand fall to his side with a small invisible sigh.

“Yes, yes,” Jin Guangshan chimed in, fanning himself with a self-satisfied smirk. “Let Wei Ying speak” said man glared at the sect leader who boldly called him so familiar but he didn’t seem to notice, he wasn’t even looking at him “Let’s hear what the brilliant mind of his has brought us this time.” His voice was sickly sweet, but laced with amusement, as if this whole argument was an entertaining show. “Such passion in the younger generation.”

No one acknowledged him. All eyes were still on the Lans—who exchanged a glance that seemed to communicate paragraphs. Lan Wangji gave a small nod. Lan Xichen hesitated… and then mirrored it with a sigh.

“My apologies Wei-gongzi” Lan Xichen started facing the man with a resigned look “Until now all of our efforts and information had been based of a man that saved my life, I trust him and he has been risking his own life in Nightless city to send information to form our plans. Would you be able to tell us why would we reshape those plans according to your account?”

Wei Wuxian hadn’t expected a chance to explain. He glanced at Jiang Cheng, who gave him a look that said, Your mess, dig your grave yourself. Then at Lan Wangji—who gave the smallest of nods as the guqin disappeared inside his qiankun sleeve.

Just that. But it felt like a rock to steady himself on.

“I don’t have one single source,” Wei Wuxian said at last. “I have many. The report was built from dozens of mouths—servants, guards, transport workers—people buried inside the Wen ranks. And don’t condemn them,” he added quickly“Wen Ruohan keeps a grip on his people tighter than chains. His punishments aren’t discipline; they’re torture. They just want the war to end. The common people are suffering far more than we cultivators ever will. They’re dying of illness with no healers left to tend them, innkeepers starve in empty towns, farmers watch their fields burn to ash. Many are still fleeing the Wen lands, desperate for safety. When that many voices say the same thing… it’s worth listening to.”

He paused. The room was silent.

Don’t waver.

“Their reports were organized and interpreted by an old soldier, a tactician from the Central Plains who isn’t from any cultivation clan. He’s seen wars bigger than ours from different kingdoms. The battle at Sanghui was won because they warned me of the ambush in the forest—I sent the corpses ahead. The battles in Lanya and Xinglu would’ve cut our forces in half if not for a merchant who told me the terrain hid caves. We can’t win a war by charging in one direction and calling it strategy. We have to adapt.”

Don’t let them see.

He let the words settle before finishing.

“I don’t seek to contradict the information your contact gave, Zewu-jun. But mine enhances it. Refine it. The cultivation world hasn’t seen war like this in generations, we’re all figuring it out as we go. But we cannot make the mistake that started this war expecting the Wens to play fair and us waiting for the result”

I’ll take the blow. So please. Just survive so you can live.

Wei Wuxian wanted to scream but forced himself to stay as still as possible.

“I like what Wei-Xiong offers… On our way here, didn’t we see some shifting in the ranks at the border even if we didn’t press on?” Nie Huiasang said, barely audible behind his fan glancing at his brother. Huisang had stayed back on the Unclean Realm until now but with the call of the most prominent figures of all fronts, he sneaked in against his brother’s wishes.

Nobody really listened to the younger Nie considering he wasn't much of a fighter, but Wei Wuxian knew better. It took real skill to smuggle contraband around the Cloud Recesses without being caught, and Huaisang had that down to an art, how else did you got fresh gossip in the land where gossip is forbidden?! Wei Wuxian had the enthusiasm, sure, but somehow he always got caught. Probably the universe’s way of saying “don’t.” Or just his bad luck to have Lan Wangji and Lan Qiren permanently on patrol for his next crime.

Huaisang, though? He just fluttered his fan and got away with murder.

Literally… maybe.

Hopefully not.

“If you don’t trust the whole thing…” Wei Wuxian paused, then turned to Jiang Cheng. “Please, trust me.”  he mouthed.

For a moment, his brother’s face stayed locked in tension. But then Jiang Cheng gave a tight nod—resigned, but chose to trust him nonetheless.

Wei Wuxian turned back to the room, sweeping his gaze across the cultivators gathered before resting it firmly on Lan Xichen. But it was Sect leader Jiang who spoke.

“The Jiangs will take the west path today and intercept the Wen forces rerouted through that flank. The change in movement was confirmed just last night—they were initially reinforcing their original positions. This move will confirm the report’s validity.”

A ripple of surprise passed through the room.

Jin Guangshan tapped his fan lightly against his palm. “How valiant. The Jiangs moving alone, based on shadowed whispers and unverified reports of ghosts!” He smiled thinly, eyes gleaming. “Very well. Let them take the west. If it succeeds, we can continue with this…plan”

The Jin sounded so proud.

Wei Wuxian grew cold.

He never mentioned ghosts.

And as for everyone else, He had become a demonic cultivator, raising corpses and fighting with a flute but there hadn’t been a single ghost near the camps.

Except for himself of course but this was not referring to him, he knew that much.

“Sect Leader Jin,” Wei Wuxian said, his smile gone. His brows knit in a deep frown. “The Jins are more than welcome to join us if you wish to verify yourself ”

Jin Guangshan didn’t drop the smile. But his eyes gleamed with something harder now—like he’d just been challenged at a game he thought he’d already won.

“Ah… such enthusiasm,” he said, fanning himself again. “But we wouldn’t want to steal your thunder, Wei-gongzi. If your information is correct, I’m sure it will be more than evident by tomorrow.”

His gaze slid to Jiang Cheng, full of smug implication. Either the Jiangs would be declared fools by a false information or be overwhelmed by numbers because the information was right. “We all look forward to seeing what the Jiangs can accomplish.”

“Where are you going?” Jiang Cheng grabbed his brothers by the neck of his robes, stopping him on his track “We have disciples to train. And thanks to your stupid plan we are on our own”

“Yes! Isn’t that exciting Jiang Cheng? Show them the power of Yunmeng Jiang! Though, are we Yunmeng Jiang? We still haven’t recovered Lotus Pier” Wei Wuxian rambled thoughtfully once the sect leader let him go “Okay, maybe you were a bit overboard saying the Jiangs would deal with it but maybe that way I can just unleash a bit without worrying too much and we can be back by midnight—”

“Wei Wuxian” Jiang Cheng interrupted pulling his arm to call his attention “How and why did you threatened Zewu-jun?!”

“I didn’t” he tilted his head actually confused.

“You are my head disciple and my right hand man, you cannot just deal directly with sect leaders! Would you have done that to A-die?!”

Oh, he was actually mad.

“Jiang Cheng— We got this, don’t worry. I won’t allow any Jiang disciple to fall on my watch” he answered with the calming voice he always used to appease him but with a serious and heavy weight. His hand twitched to rest on his shoulder and squeeze him, a silent reassurance, but his hand just felt to his side with a final sigh “I’ll go train the new batch, you go and see what we’ve got with the the seniors and the ones who managed the first year course”

Jiang Cheng stood there with tense muscles with a defiant look and gritting teeth at Wei Wuxian until a final grumble disarmed him, dragging exhausted hands down his face “Please don’t get into any more trouble while I’m not there” he finally relented “and I want you to formally apologize to Jin Zixuan and Zewu-jun before the end of the day, that’s an order” he pointed at him before turning around in a flutter of purple.

Wei Wuxian stared at his brother back until it disappeared from view between the people and tents. He didn’t even need to turn to know someone else was expecting to talk to him. He turned with a sigh, the day was barely starting and he just wanted to disappear into the shadows.

“Wei Ying” 

“Lan Zhan”

Both voices were tired, worn thin. The kind of tired that went beyond sleepless nights. The kind that came from fighting too long, losing too much, being soldiers for far too many days, too many weeks dragging into months. They were about to hit the year mark over the start of the Sunshot campaign but for them it had started way before that, too long their childhood was stolen from them and forced to understand cruelty of the world.

It was the kind of exhaustion that dragged into your soul, and Wei Wuxian knew that too well.

“You are not well” The soothing voice called.

“I’m fine” He grumbled brushing his bangs away from his face “Look, Lan Zhan. Can we not do this today? I have a lot to do and to plan, contrary to the rest of sects, we have a lot on our plate with a rebuilding in progress everyday, we don’t have elders to rely our sect issues” The words came out sharper than he meant. He stepped aside, but Lan Wangji moved, calm and silent, blocking him.

For a moment they only stared at each other. Lan Wangji steady as ever, Wei Wuxian restless under his gaze. 

Lan Wangji was thinking, searching for the right words. Normally, Wei Wuxian would’ve waited, amused, maybe teasing him to speak faster. But not today. Today he was simply tired. Bone-tired. The cold creeping up his fingers again, his control slipping at the edges. He just wanted to rest, to be left alone. Was that too much to ask?

“I’m really—” he started, already resigned to ending this conversation before it began.

“Let me play for you” The words rushed out, unexpected, startling them both. Lan Wangji for saying them, and Wei Wuxian for hearing them.

That much that made Wei Wuxian falter, not sure how to react “If you intend to cleanse me, I won’t allow it, we are winning because of my cultivation” he warned crossing his arms defensively with a frown.

Lan Wangji seemed to want to say something but refrained, then stopped for a second to plan the next set of words, this time, Wei Wuxian waited.

“Calm and rest” He answered finally “Wei Ying has not slept well lately”

“And how do you know that?” he asked amused. To be truthful he didn’t even pretend anymore, he used the nights to sketch talismans and plan strategies for the Jiangs, soothe spirits or find any remanent of the old Jiang disciples, some retired or married out to help at least with training once they got back Lotus Pier. But he was ultimately baffled that someone had even notice his absence.

“I see Wei Ying come back to his tent”

That made more sense.

“Right,” Wei Wuxian said with a huff of laughter, a crooked smile tugging at his lips. “You can take the Lan out of Gusu, but you can’t take Gusu out of the Lan.” He sighed, rubbing his face before finally relenting. “Fine”

“So... you are rogues?” Wei Wuxian asked skeptically.

He couldn’t pinpoint exactly what was odd about this pair, but something was wrong. Okay, something was wrong with himself so he was not the one to judge. A ghost of a guy who died without a golden core trying to teach Jiang forms to cultivators of minor sects and rogues that joined them was laughable, they didn’t know the nature of their senior but the point still stood.

“Yes! You didn’t interview half the guys over there!” One of the pair pointed behind them where the group was already going through the basic stands.

“That’s because they at least look like cultivators, you can’t blame me for questioning you” he raised an eyebrow.

Both were sharp edges, that much was clear. They carried the kind of presence that spoke of too many battles — the sort that didn’t end when the sword was sheathed. Maybe they’d seen too much during this war, maybe long before it. Either way, everything about them felt wrong.

Their clothing was familiar enough at first glance. Layered, practical, stained with travel, but the cuts and details didn’t belong to any sect Wei Wuxian knew, not even one of those remote northern clans with odd embroidery habits. If he had to guess, they came from beyond the borders entirely. One carried a sabre, which made Wei Wuxian’s brows twitch. He should send that one to the Nies, but decided to leave that topic for later.

When they weren’t looking at him like he was the one being tested and not the other way around.

Despite the dust on their robes and the exhaustion on their faces, they stood tall, too composed. That quiet kind of confidence that came from knowing exactly what they were capable of. It wasn’t arrogance, not quite, but something steadier, colder. And that made it dangerous. Especially in war where that could kill you or others. Where you didn’t even know who to trust.

And then there was their hair. Too short. Nobody in their lands cut their hair that short, both tied high in ponytails that barely reached their shoulders. It shouldn’t have mattered, but somehow it did, they could have been criminals and he had to just trust them with the secrets and safety of his sect.

At first thought he could have considered them to be Wens but that was wrong too, they weren’t and he couldn’t even say why. Their features were delicate and even handsome, but something about their characteristics told him they weren’t even from around. 

Something about them sent a chill crawling up his spine, instincts whispering danger even when logic said they were just two normal cultivators.

He may be paranoic but he couldn’t let potential threats mix among the Jiang ranks. Not when he’d worked this hard to keep his people alive.

“If you distrust us so much, here. Check for yourself” The other one raised his wrist defiantly, and for some reason, Wei Wuxian could sense they already knew the answer.

He couldn’t actually check their spiritual energy, but something told him that even if he could he shouldn’t. There was something off about it. Not dark, not resentful, but foreign, vibrating wrong in the air. Like if he reached out, it would bite back.

“Why don’t you show me then?” Wei Wuxian clapped his hands once, the sound light and commanding enough to redirect the attention as he glanced over their shoulders “Everyone! Pair up and spar! I want to see what you can do. Use whatever you know regarding your sword forms, Jiang or otherwise” 

He turned back to the pair with a grin on his face“I assume you two will spar each other?”

They both looked at him and for a heartbeat, he felt something shift, a silent consideration if they should even listen, he tried not to look further into it. If he had managed to hide in plain sight under the most powerful cultivators in the same room, then these two shouldn’t feel anything amiss.

The tense moment disappeared as quick as it appeared, they turned on their hills and took their weapons out in an elegant arch each facing each other. Their silence lasted all of three seconds before the taller one muttered something sharp under his breath. The other immediately snapped back, voice low but dripping with irritation. They argued, not loudly, not enough to cause a scene, but with the effortless rhythm of people who had done this far too many times.

Wei Wuxian blinked, caught between suspicion and amusement as the pair went from deadly silence to bickering like children. Then, as if nothing had happened, they both sighed, rolled their eyes in perfect synchronization, and moved to spar.

If he weren’t so wary, Wei Wuxian might have been amused. As it was, he settled for pretending to be.

Wei Wuxian stepped back, far enough to see the entire sparring field. At first, he tried to pay attention to everyone but the picture that unfolded before him was both familiar and frustrating. 

He had been Head Disciple for two years before Lotus Pier fell. He’d taught disciples from the smallest ones barely able to lift a sword to juniors preparing for their first night hunts. Teaching came easily to him, it was the one of the things that always felt natural, rewarding even. Seeing someone finally master a form or stabilize their qi flow after weeks of failing had always made him proud.

But seeing the current situation was disappointing and exhausting to just look at.

Most of the new recruits were barely holding their stances together. Their footwork was uneven, their swords swung with more desperation than precision. He assumed those were the rogues. It wasn’t their fault, not really. Most of them had never had proper masters, and the rest had only learned enough to survive. The lack of education among cultivators outside the great sects had always been an issue, but in wartime, it was painfully clear.

He wasn’t stupid; he knew how the world worked. The big sects didn’t want to deal with the burden of training the leftovers.  

The orphans, the rogues, the ones with barely any lineage or backing. So they sent them here. To the Jiangs who were desperate to rebuild, they had to keep the numbers if at the end of the road still wanted to be a great sect.

Still, he couldn’t blame them. The Jiangs accepting anyone with a blade and a pulse was a great opportunity. It meant a chance at a roof, food, education, and maybe, with luck, a sense of belonging once everything was over.

Then there were the ones from minor sects. He recognized the polished hilts, the clean robes, the kind that spoke of old pride and little humility even when they were in a similar standing as them and probably worse. Their sects were down, their lands taken and probably no resources or desire to rebuild once everything was over. Their movements were better, but not by much. They clung to the forms they’d been taught, refusing to adapt, too proud to admit how badly war had ruined their foundations. Sloppy, rigid, predictable. The kind of fighting that got people killed.

Wei Wuxian was about to sigh when his gaze caught on the suspicious pair again.

In the middle of the field, the sabre-wielder lunged forward, spinning low, blade flashing at every strike. His partner met him head-on, matching the rhythm, turning what should’ve been a clash into a dance. Fast, fluid, brutal. Every strike carried weight, their weapons singing with power. Their spiritual energy flared with every impact, resonating in the air so strongly that Wei Wuxian’s own robes stirred.

They weren’t cultivators. Not in the way he understood it. Cultivators fought monsters and spirits. They fought to defend or destroy. But these two… they fought like soldiers. Every motion was calculated, efficient, meant to command and conquer, to fulfill an objective — not survive, but win. They moved through years of experience.

Their styles were different, that much he could tell. Maybe born of different lands, different teachings but merged along the way into something new. 

They argued mid-swing, snapped at each other’s footing, but never once missed a beat. It was terrifying and mesmerizing all at once, a choreography of violence and trust. Wei Wuxian recognized that kind of bond, not exactly like it but he’d seen it in the Twin Jades of Lan. Once felt it himself with Jiang Cheng before the world fell apart, something he had dreamed to achieve once.

He flinched when a burst of energy erupted from their clash, strong enough to push the nearby spectators back a step. Even he had to brace himself, feeling the edge of their combined spiritual power scraping at his senses, making the chill in his bones know.

By the time the rest of the pairs had finished and were catching their breath, the two were still going. The spar long forgotten, replaced by something closer to a real fight. Dust swirled around them, stirred by the force of their strikes, and neither seemed the least bit tired. If anything, they looked thrilled.

Wei Wuxian realized it would be a mistake sending the saber wielder to the Nies when his style was as fluid and flexible as the Jiang forms, furthermore, those looked like they wouldn’t accept being sent in different ways.

When their last strike finally sent both weapons flying a few feet away, the silence that followed was almost deafening. The two looked at each other, breathing hard, and broke into matching annoyed expressions with a concealed grin neither wanted to show.

“Could’ve been worse” Wei Wuxian said under his breath, grinning despite himself. “At least the field’s still standing. Mostly” he sighed, half amused, half exasperated as he surveyed the field. Two broken dummies, a few snapped fences, and a tent that had seen better days. 

“Great, you’re over?” Jiang Cheng’s voice cut through the air, sharp and commanding. He came down the hill with Jiang Zeyin at his side, a senior that had retired to raise his disabled daughter and had came back once he heard the news of the Jiangs. The pair arrived agitated, both dressed for battle, their expressions tense and urgent. “Nan Feng, Fu Yao! You’re with us.” The pair exchanged glances but obeyed without hesitation, retrieving their weapons quickly.

Wei Wuxian blinked, startled by the sudden urgency “Wait, what—”

“Stop staring,” Jiang Cheng snapped, already turning away. “We’re moving. Change of plans.” His tone left no room for argument. “We take Lotus Pier today. The Wens are heading north.”

Wei Wuxian stayed frozen for half a second, the words echoing through him like thunder. Lotus Pier.

His heart lurched. Then, without another thought, they ran.