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Okay, so the fierce corpse experiments weren’t going quite to plan, Xue Yang thought as he hit the ground with a painful thud. The trio of corpses lumbered after him, slowly closing the distance. Xue Yang tried again to harness the resentful energy into a command. Maybe he was making this too complicated. Maybe their little shriveled brains didn’t understand. So he pulled it all in to a single word: stop.
All three stopped in their tracks, and he sighed a little in relief. He twirled a strand of hair around his fingers, thinking. Things had been progressing well in Jinlintai. He had reasonable control of them there. Why had they turned on him out here? The resentful energy swirled around him, and he let it, studying the blank faces of the corpses for clues.
The workshop he’d been given was controlled, with very little external stimuli. Jin Guangyao had made sure it was pristine and he had whatever he wanted. This isolated field he’d brought them to was full of things Xue Yang couldn’t control. The terrain, the weather, the sound of birds in the sky, animals shuffling through the bushes. Could it all really be that distracting?
Or maybe it wasn’t about the corpses at all, but Xue Yang himself. He wrinkled his nose at the thought. If only the notes he’d been given were remotely readable or organized. He wasn’t a particularly organized guy himself, he mostly did whatever he pleased when he felt like it, but he was pretty sure he was doing a better job keeping track of all this shit than the Yiling Laozu.
“All right. Back to the drawing board, boys,” Xue Yang said out loud.
He drew the energy in again, and shuffled the fierce corpses back towards the cart he’d used to bring them here.
Or, well, he tried to.
They turned back to the cart all right, but they didn't get into their nice little cage covered in talismans. One of them turned to the Jin guard closest to them. Before he could unsheathe his sword, the corpse grabbed him by the neck, lifting him to his feet. The guard choked, his eyes bulging and windpipe crushed. The corpse threw him, and he landed with a crunch of bones.
"Fuck," Xue Yang said, reaching out for the resentful energy again. It was heavy and loud, almost like static in his ears, clouding his head. He tried to concentrate, sifting through the rushing and pounding of the energy through his body, but it was too late. The other Jin cultivator had taken off running, but one of the corpses was fast on his heels. It grabbed him and threw him back towards the other corpses, who descended on him like wild beasts. He screamed and screamed, until his screams turned to wet gurgles.
Well, best to chalk this up to a failed experiment and hit the fucking bricks. He hated to waste a good body, and it'd be a hell of a thing to explain to Jin Guangyao, but he had no choice, really. Surely he'd be understanding.
Xue Yang pulled a talisman from his sleeve and let it loose, sending it towards the corpses with a burst of resentful energy, turning it back on them. It hit the one in the center square in the chest, and it stumbled back, falling to the ground with a thud. The other two turned to face Xue Yang, and he threw another, which only hit the shoulder of one on the right. It barely reacted, its shoulder jerking back with the hit, but it kept walking, perfectly in step with its twin.
Xue Yang cursed again. The resentful energy was fogging his mind, and he physically shook his head, as if willing it to clear. All sounds in the clearing had disappeared, and all he smelled was smoke and sulfur, acrid and burning in his nose. He drew Jiangzai. The corpses leapt towards him, and he swiped at them with his sword, putting everything he had into it. The one he'd hit before stumbled back, but the other got close, and managed to grip his sleeve before he jumped back, the fabric ripping as he leapt.
Xue Yang shook his head again, trying to clear the buzzing consuming his brain. Was this what people meant when they said it corrupted your mind? He hadn't really believed them. He was pretty much always aware of it in his head, but he'd always been able to focus it. It had never made him fucking useless.
The blow to his chest seemed to come from nowhere, his body like a doll thrown by an angry child, landing hard on the dirt, his sword flying from his hand. The wind was knocked out of him, and he heaved a breath, looking for the source.
The third corpse, the one he'd hit first, the one that should be dead for good, stood over him. Xue Yang tried again to harness the energy, to command the corpses to stand down, but cold, rigid hands gripped him by the shoulders, and once again he was flying through the air. This time when he landed, he felt sharp pain in his head, and everything went black.
Xue Yang?
His head felt like it was going to explode, and his chest ached with dull pain that sharpened when he moved. Maybe if he just went back to sleep he'd feel better. It would feel nice to just slip right back into a dream, wouldn't it?
Xue Yang!
Xue Yang blinked his eyes open, flinching at the brightness of the sun and the sharp stab of pain through his temples. He was lying on hard, packed dirt, and his body ached like he'd tripped all the way down the steps at Jinlintai. Even inhaling all the way hurt his lungs.
"Xue Yang! Can you hear me?"
Xue Yang blinked up at the sky, squinting and looking for the source of the voice above him. It took him a moment to understand his surroundings. He was looking up at the face of a cliff, and someone was leaned over looking down at him, long hair draped over his shoulders, eyes wide and forehead wrinkled with concern.
"Song Lan?" Xue Yang said. Or, tried to say, but it came out a sort of garbled "saaargh?" and he tasted the copper tang of blood on his tongue. He spat onto the ground, seeing only red. "Motherfucker," he said, and that came out right.
He tried to sit up, pressing his hands to the ground to brace himself, but his right hand touched air, finding no purchase. Xue Yang shifted towards the cliff face, startled. He'd landed on a ledge, just barely missing falling into a chasm so deep the bottom was just darkness. His ribs and chest ached as he hugged the cliff wall. He wasn't exactly afraid of heights, but he didn't want to trip and fall into that either.
"Hold still. I'll come get you," Song Lan said, from the top of the cliff.
Come get him? Why the hell would Song Lan of all people want to rescue him? Also, he could get out of here just fine by himself. He could just fly, as soon as he was able to get his balance. He touched the sheath where the kept Jiangzai, but it was empty. The memory of it being knocked out of his hand by that fucking fierce corpse came rushing back to him.
"Shit," he said out loud.
He looked up again. Song Lan had drawn his sword, but something else caught his attention, and his head whipped to the side, and he disappeared. A moment later, Xue Yang heard a thud, a grunt, and the sound of a sword flying through the air.
"Hey, what's going on?" Xue Yang called.
"Corpses," Song Lan called back, amidst another thunk, the sound of metal running through flesh. Maybe the sound of a head falling to the ground.
"Shit," Xue Yang said again. He inhaled, and cringed with pain as he did it. He started to try to get to his feet, hugging the cliff face as he did.
Immediately, he felt lightheaded, his vision going blurry and his feet losing purchase underneath him. Carefully, he sat back down, trying to breathe through it.
Okay. Well. This was fine. He'd gotten out of worse before. He just needed to sit down for a minute. Once he had his shit together, he could probably climb up to the surface again. He looked around, trying to figure out how much space he actually had. Maybe there were easier parts of the rock to climb, more handholds, more ledges he could take breaks on if needed.
A soft thump on the dirt next to him broke him out of his thoughts. Song Lan stood next to him, whole and uninjured, though his sword was wet with blood and his brow was damp with sweat. He bent down and reached for Xue Yang, but Xue Yang flinched back, automatically reaching for his sword, even though he knew it wasn't there. He started to mentally reach for resentful energy, letting it start to build inside him. Song Lan just frowned, looking exasperated.
"You're injured. Let me help," Song Lan said.
He let the energy go, his bones creaking and tired in its wake, and reached up to touch the side of his head. His hair was matted and sticky with blood, and his hand came away dark red.
"Oh," he said. Certainly explained the lightheadedness and the stabbing pain.
Song Lan reached for him again, and Xue Yang stiffened, but he didn't resist. He pressed his fingers to Xue Yang's wrist. Healing energy poured into him, hot white light that made him see stars in front of his eyes. Then it faded.
"This is beyond my skill. Are you staying in Lanling? It's nearby," Song Lan said.
Technically speaking, Xue Yang wasn't supposed to be working for the Lanling Jin, and he wasn't supposed to draw attention to himself.
"Wait, what was going on up there?" Xue Yang asked.
"Fierce corpses, two of them. I dispatched one, but the other retreated. I should go after it, but…" he trailed off, and shook his head. "Come, I'll help you to Lanling, then I'll return."
"It'll be long gone by then," Xue Yang said, and he held onto the cliff face to haul himself to his feet. He stayed steady this time, so whatever Song Lan had managed to give him had helped. He could keep going on this. "I need to find my sword, then we can go after it."
"You can't fight in this condition," Song Lan said, furrowing his brow.
"The hell I can't. What do you care anyway? That thing threw me down here. I'm not letting it get away with that," he said.
Also he didn't really need a loose, uncontrolled body running around. Much easier to explain to Jin Guangyao if a rogue cultivator eliminated it. What was he supposed to do, stop the guy from dispatching a danger to society? Politely explain that they were his and he'd like them back? Nah, it was better this way.
Song Lan was still looking at him with that weird, wrinkled brow and a deep frown. But after a moment, he nodded.
"Hold tight," he instructed, and they mounted his sword to fly back to the surface.
Xue Yang found his sword nearby, and they took off in the direction Song Lan last saw the fierce corpse retreat to. The extra qi running through Xue Yang's veins, the power of his sword thrumming in his hand, and the adrenaline hit of the moment kept the pain in his ribs and head at bay. The corpse hadn't gotten far. They were pretty stupid, after all. Xue Yang hadn't figured out how to keep their minds intact, and was beginning to suspect there was no way to do it.
Probably for the best. A corpse that could think would be a whole lot more trouble than it was worth.
The corpse spotted them, and it charged. Xue Yang and Song Lan jumped opposite directions, and the corpse stumbled, unsure who to follow. Xue Yang was ready. He pulled a talisman from his sleeve and sent it towards the corpse. It let out an awful groan, flinching back and losing its balance. Song Lan came in from the other side with his sword, slicing through the body like nothing.
Damn. Xue Yang almost resented how easy that was, after all the trouble the corpses had given him. He squinted up at Song Lan, who was inspecting the body to make sure it didn't rise again.
"You could have just left me and gone after it yourself," he said.
Song Lan looked up at him.
"No," he said. "You're still bleeding. You need a doctor."
"I'm doing fine," Xue Yang said, and as soon as he said it, he felt a wave of lightheadedness run through him. He clenched his teeth, trying to hold as still as possible, and grinned at Song Lan.
Song Lan was still frowning at him. Did he even have another facial expression?
Xue Yang sighed and touched his head. It was still throbbing with pain, just not sharp or skull splitting like it had been before. Most of the blood had dried in his hair, but his hand still came away bloody.
"All right, yeah, I'll go get patched up," Xue Yang said.
"I'll escort you," Song Lan said, moving towards him.
"Why?" Xue Yang asked.
"To ensure you arrive safely," Song Lan said. "You might fall, or lose consciousness. And there may be more corpses in the area."
There weren't, unless there was another demonic cultivator he didn't know about lurking around, but Xue Yang didn't say that.
"So? You've never liked me, so why do you care?" Xue Yang asked, frustrated that Song Lan wasn't getting it.
"I'm not leaving someone to die, no matter my personal feelings," Song Lan said, brow furrowed, looking just as frustrated.
"Why not? I'm sure it'd make your life so much easier," Xue Yang said.
"Maybe," Song Lan admitted. And then, after a beat, "I still wouldn't."
They stared at each other, each evaluating the other. Xue Yang did not fucking get this guy. He was about to tell him he'd go on his own, that he was fine and he could make it, but Song Lan's eyes widened in alarm, and he rushed forward. He managed to catch Xue Yang just before he hit the ground.
Xue Yang managed a string of all the curse words he knew before his eyes went black, Song Lan's furrowed brow the last thing he saw.
-
Xue Yang had met Song Lan years ago, some time before he'd been employed by the Jin.
He hadn't really made much trouble yet. He had started cultivation training too old, and his education was made up of scraps of overheard conversations and stolen books from visiting cultivators. When he discovered demonic cultivation, it was as easy as breathing.
Song Lan, the fucking busybody, showed up wherever trouble appeared. And Xue Yang did like to make his fair share of trouble. They'd crossed blades more than once, but had always stopped short of actually killing each other. Song Lan always simply let him go, if he promised not to return. And most of the time he didn't, or if he did, he made very little noise about it. Xue Yang, for his part, never saw much point in killing him. The fights were too fun. If Song Lan died, he'd never get to see the stupid pained expressions on his face again. He liked how Song Lan looked when he was angry.
He didn't fucking like how nice Song Lan was being to him now. It was weird.
"Here. Eat," Song Lan said, setting a tray of food next to him on the bed. Soup, again, with a little bit of bread.
Xue Yang squinted at it, but he picked it up anyway. He might as well enjoy the free meals as long as they kept coming.
"I can't believe your shifu let me stay," Xue Yang said.
"Neither can I," Song Lan admitted.
Xue Yang had woken up in the temple, with healers around him and Song Lan and his shifu looking on in concern. He'd tried to jump up, panicked, but Song Lan held him steady and told him to calm down. Xue Yang didn't love being told what to do in the best of circumstances, and he'd nearly taken out Song Lan's eye before he was forcibly put to sleep again.
But he was still here, and he had been allowed to stay until he healed. He didn't know if it was some kind of healer magic or the medicine they'd forced down his throat or what, but he'd felt a lot calmer when he'd woken up later in the day, to solely Song Lan in the room.
"Why didn't you just take me to Lanling?" Xue Yang asked.
Song Lan was silent for a moment, looking on at him tearing apart the bread and taking bites.
"There are rumors of what Jin-zongzhu is up to. Are you part of it?" Song Lan asked.
"What kinda rumors?" Xue Yang asked.
Song Lan chewed on the inside of his cheek, looking like he was thinking about how to say what he wanted to say. Xue Yang wished he would just spit it out, but he ate his soup. If this was the last thing he was getting out of this temple, he was gonna enjoy it.
"I found the dead Jin cultivators first. There was a cage in the wagon. For the corpses?" he asked.
Xue Yang shrugged.
"Well, we can't have them attacking random citizens," Xue Yang said. He grinned up at him. "We can agree on that, at least."
Song Lan bit his cheek so hard Xue Yang wouldn't have been surprised if he was tasting blood.
"He will discard you when you're no longer useful," he said.
"I plan to be gone before then," Xue Yang said.
Actually, with the lack of progress on his current experiments, two dead cultivators, and three useless and now dispatched corpses, that time was probably coming soon. Maybe it would be better if he didn't go back at all. He'd miss it. Maybe he could get away with going back to get some of the stuff he'd acquired since moving into Jinlintai, maybe leave a note for Jin Guangyao, and then split.
"Stay until you're healed," Song Lan said. "We are no friends to the great sects, so you'll be safe here if they come looking."
Xue Yang narrowed his eyes at him.
"What are you playing at? You trying to convert me or something, daozhang?" he asked.
"This path will harm your body and spirit," Song Lan said.
Xue Yang rolled his eyes. There it fucking was. Song Lan huffed in frustration.
"You don't have to listen to me. You can stay, but you can't practice it here," he said.
Xue Yang waved his hand in the air, mouth full of soup. It wasn't like he was in any condition to be practicing much of anything right now, so it was fine.
"I'll go so you can rest," Song Lan said, standing.
Xue Yang laughed. He wasn't all that tired. He was pretty sure Song Lan just wanted to exit the conversation.
"I would have left you in that hole, you know," he said.
Song Lan paused at the door, looking back at him.
"I know," he said, with a smile so slight Xue Yang was sure he was imagining it. Then he was gone, and Xue Yang was left to wonder what it all meant.