#song lan came back to his consciousness on his own

[mxtxfanatic]

Was Wen Ning so special as a corpse because he regained his consciousness, or was he special as a corpse because Wei Wuxian was able to return his consciousness?

[stiltonbasket]

hi!! since you’re the nielan master, could you do nielan in one of your universes where they end up happy? thank you <3

"Diedie?" a tiny voice whispers in Nie Mingjue's ear. "Diedie, wake up."

Nie Mingjue is still half-asleep, his consciousness lost in the strange, sweet twilight between waking and dreams where he knows and remembers nothing save for his husband's warm weight in his arms—but in spite of the early hour, the sound of his son's piping voice rouses him at once.

When he opens his eyes, he finds Jingyi's round face hovering an inch above his own, aglow with a grin that reminds Nie Mingjue so much of a young Xichen that he nearly forgets to breathe.

"A-Yi?" he yawns, through a mouthful of Lan Huan's sleep-rumpled hair. "What are you doing here, baobao? Did you have a bad dream?"

"I don't have nightmares anymore. I'm not a baby," Jingyi protests. "And A-Die, you were supposed to get up at mao shi to make Ba's birthday breakfast! It's already past chen shi now."

Nie Mingjue reaches up to stroke Jingyi's chubby cheek. "Then I'll get up now, A-Yi. But you ought to go back to bed, because little buns like you should still be asleep at chen shi."

"But Ba's going to wake up before you're done cooking breakfast, so—"

"Your Ba is tired," Nie Mingjue chides, sliding out from under his husband's arm. "He might not want to get up until noon, so we still have time to make breakfast."

"I guess," A-Yi says doubtfully, crawling up to sit on the pillows beside Xichen's head. "But meimei might wake him up early, so I'll stay here and keep watch while you cook."

Mingjue laughs and kisses the top of his son's head before making his way to the kitchen. His heart sings at every step, though this is now hardly worth noting—for that heart has not stopped aching with happiness since the day he and Xichen declared their love for one another, some seven months after their wedding; and its song has only grown sweeter in the passing years, beautified and strengthened by every moment he spends with his husband and children.

He goes to the pantry in the kitchen for rice flour and eggs, and then to the garden for scallions. Nie Mingjue will have to make a simple breakfast today, since Wangji and Wei Wuxian claimed the privilege of arranging a birthday lunch for their entire extended family: and he has little time besides, so he mixes dough for scallion pancakes and prepares three oiled bowls for steamed eggs by the time Jueying begins to fuss in the bedroom.

"Yingying, don't jump!" Nie Mingjue hears Jingyi yelp. "You can't even walk yet."

At that, Nie Mingjue drops his pancake dough and runs out into the receiving room, where he finds baby Jueying crawling toward him on all fours with Xichen's forehead ribbon trailing behind her. Somehow, she had managed to make her way out of the bedroom alone.

"That's my strong Ying-bao," Nie Mingjue says, laughing at the resounding slap of Jueying's tiny fists striking the floorboards. "Should A-Die pick you up now?"

The baby shakes her head and crawls right past him into the kitchen, where she takes refuge under the table with one of Wangji's pet cats.

"Bu," she crows, delighted by the sound of her own voice. No was Jueying's first word, closely followed by Ba, for Xichen and Mingjue both; and since Yingying has rarely left her parents' sight, no is still her favorite thing to say.

Strange though it might be, Mingjue adores his daughter the most in moments like these, where she furrows her small brows and refuses to listen to her well-meaning elders; for it is then that he remembers that he and Xichen brought two tiny people into the world, with precious little minds and spirits of their own. Jingyi's mishaps and misadventures, Jueying's stubbornness, their shared passion for baked sweets and dislike of anything flavored with lemon—all of it came from the love that shaped Mingjue's very life, from the day he first laid eyes on Lan Xichen twenty-six years ago.

If it were any other day, Nie Mingjue would have abandoned his preparations for breakfast and returned to his husband's side, unable to keep away from him any longer; but Jueying has already fixed her beady eyes on the heap of chopped scallions, so Mingjue rushes over to placate her with a biscuit before cooking the eggs and fried pancakes.

"You can't eat these before they're cooked through," he tells her, watching the baby nibbling away at her biscuit in the safety of Xiaolongbao's wicker basket. "They might make you ill, baobao. But after your first birthday, you can eat anything you like."

"You musn't say that, A-Jue," a soft voice laughs from the doorway. "Ying-bao might take you at your word, and then where will we be?"

Nie Mingjue's poor, ever-hungering heart crowds up into his throat.

"Xichen," he breathes, holding out his arms as his husband comes running to meet him. "What are you doing up, sweetheart? I thought you would sleep for another hour."

"Without you in the bed beside me, Mingjue-xiong? I've been awake since chen hour," Lan Xichen smiles, leaning up to kiss him. "I would have liked to sleep a little longer, but I missed you, so here I am."

He kisses the tip of Mingjue's nose, and then:

"And Yingying crawled away with my mo'e," he says, perplexed. "Where is she, my love? Wasn't she with you just now?"

A high-pitched squeal rings out from beneath the table. "There she is," Nie Mingjue says fondly, as Lan Xichen drops to his knees on the floor and gathers Yingying into his arms. "We ought to feed her soon, or she'll try to eat Xiaolongbao's fur again."

With Xichen's help, the last preparations for their meal are completed in quick succession; and before long, all four of them are sitting around the table instead of underneath it. Jueying sits in Lan Xichen's lap, chewing bits of scallion pancake into pulp between mouthfuls of soft steamed egg; and Jingyi takes the little chair between his parents, so that he can lean against Nie Mingjue's shoulder while he eats.

For his part, Nie Mingjue sits with his arm about Lan Xichen's waist, and tries not to weep at the sight of his husband and children eating the breakfast he had made for them.

Surely such happiness is too dear for mortal men to know, he thinks dizzily. Just six years ago, a life with A-Huan and the little ones would have been beyond my wildest dreams, and yet—

Where was I six years ago? Nie Mingjue wonders. He and Xichen were twenty-five and twenty-three when the war broke out, and each of them had celebrated a birthday in the midst of the Sunshot Campaign; but neither occasion brought them any joy, for the beginning of another year of life in such straits could not help but remind them that they might not endure long enough to see the end of it.

Nie Mingjue had nearly died at the Nightless City, and if not for Xichen's skill in healing, he would have been stricken down by a qi deviation in the days after the last battle.

That would have been all right, Nie Mingjue reflects. He knows Lan Xichen's mind and heart as well as he knows his own; for Lan Xichen by far the stronger of the two of them, and he would not have succumbed to grief if Mingjue had left him that day.

"Perhaps not," Lan Xichen says now, reaching backward to hold Nie Mingjue's hand. "What you said when Jingyi was born—that is, what you said you would do, when you thought the worst was coming—I would not turn to such a course, but if I lost you—"

His grasp upon Mingjue's wrist grows tighter. "There would be no joy in this world for me from that day forth, though I would never seek to depart from this life before my time," he says at last. "You must know that, Mingjue-xiong. You must."

Nie Mingjue presses his lips to his husband's forehead.

"I know," he says thickly. "I know, my A-Huan. Happy birthday."

[llycaons]

ep38 (2/3): heartbreaking: the worst person you know just came out

man I feel like xxc is SUCH a romantic. he likes being in love he likes having a partner he's drawn to those idealized fairy-tale romances he doesn't look too deeply below the surface (consciously or not) because he just loves having that kind of connection with someone. and ah he and song lan were perfect for each other. if not for that foolish mistake...! but tragically he's not a main character so his suffering will lead not to a happy ending but to death

anyway. scream? I assume these are yi city residents? fuck, but that's so many. an entire city

he just loves giving those expressions to xy for no reason. unhinged menace

this is honestly hilarious. obviously 'all he wanted was a domestic life with famer's market trips uwu' is a patently absurd claim because look what he DID with that life but I cannot lie this is very funny to me. like sure maybe DEEP DOWN that's all he wanted but my sympathy for him is like. nonexistent because look what he chose to do

also. this man is gasping in fear. does xxc not notice?? willfully ignorant, perhaps

SONG LAN!!!! thank god you're here there is such bullshit going down here xxc needs you. he just lit up so much when he heard about xxc

she's such a little survivalist <3

omg remember that translation meta that described sl's answer as like 'he is world-endingly beautiful' or something? first of all he was right. they casted xxc perfectly, second of all how the hell did she write this and not make them canon gay. insane.

this kills me bc at this point SL KNOWS but I don't think he even considered approaching this with the care he would have needed to. and why not just confront xy? it's not like he knows xy has a tool to make xxc kill him

also sl is standing here in broad daylight and xy just walks past him? I mean his back is to sl but that's weird, I feel like he'd notice him just STANDING there esp if a-qing jerks away and hides

damn I hope she hasn't been hiding every time xy is around. that's her home too. she could technically leave but I doubt she wanted to abandon xxc. and she's not likely to trust any of the sects to intervene either even if she told them. and I don't think she understands that xy is making xxc kill living people

witnessing sl see how xy treats xxc (familiarly, cruelly, lying) is like. that IS a man watching someone he loves involved with someone else who's hurting them. not even jealousy, just heartbreak and righteous anger. li bowen NAILED it

I don't think sl and xxc were ever actually together which just makes this entire thing more exquisitely painful

THE SINGLE TEAR

oohh and the BLOOD

at this point a-qing is distressed enough to grab onto wwx for comfort :(

it's not often that I see the xxc/xy situation described as abuse but xy DID abuse his power over xxc to trick him into murdering people (and then the heavy implication that they were in a relationship too 😬)

I love this expression from SL. no detached justice here. this man is furious and ready to kill

this fight scene is actually good? so many fight scenes in this show are bad and this one just rules. the chemistry, the action, the drama, the tragedy. what a neat and tight little narrative

ohh double-meanings. KILL HIM SONG LAN

this was so insane of xxc to do. man had one great love of his life and he dug out his eyes for him then walked away 😭

this is so funny though. he is the worst. oh SHIT THERE'S THE CHEETAH-PRINT ROBES. what a slay

also now xy won't stop rubbing it in his face and playing on sl's insecurities. deflecting from his own crimes. as jgy does, later in the temple. xy probably learned from him honestly. but don't fall for it song lan!!! he is literally using xxc to murder people!!!

this is a taunt eerily reminiscent of wwx. his voice goes up all high, like 'awww, were you SAD? huh?' wwx taunts like this, all sarcastic. but also he's not like, evil

BITCH YOU'RE THE ONE LYING AND MANIPULATING HIM

when sl's tongue gets cut out, a-qing gets all this splashed on her. ugh

NOOOOOOOO XIAO XINGCHEN!!! THAT'S THE MAN YOU LOVE!!!

[pumpkinpaix]

Pleeeeeeease get into the class one at some point because I very much want to understand the class dynamics happening in the story but I have yet to find a meta that dives into it

god anon you want me dead don’t you alsjdfljks

referring to this post

okay, so -- my specific salt about class interpretations in mdzs are very targeted. I can’t pretend to have a deep understanding of how class works in mdzs generally because uhhhhh yeah i don’t think i have that. i’m just not familiar enough with the genre and/or the particulars of chinese class systems. but! i can talk in general terms as to why I feel a certain way about the class dynamics that I do think I understand and how I think they relate to the themes of the novel! i’m gonna talk about wei wuxian, the daozhangs, xue yang, and 3zun with, I’m sure, a bunch of digressions along the way.

the usual disclaimers: i do not think you are a bad person if you hold opinions contrary to my own. i may disagree with you very strongly, but like. this isn’t a moral judgment, fandom is transformative and interpretive etc. etc. and i may change my mind. who knows what the future will bring!

OKAY so let’s begin!

here’s the thing about wei wuxian: he’s not poor. I think because characters use “son of a servant” kind of often when they’re trying to insult him, a lot of people latch onto that and think that it’s a much stronger indication of his societal status than it actually is. iirc, most of the insults that fall along the “son of a servant” line come after wei wuxian starts breaking severely from tradition. it’s a convenient thing to attack him for, but doesn’t actually indicate anything about his wealth. (exception: yu ziyuan, but that’s a personal familial issue) this is in direct contrast to jin guangyao who is constantly mocked for his family line, publicly and privately, no matter what he does.

so this, coupled with all the jokes about wwx never having any money (wei wuqian, sizhui’s “i’ve long since known you had no money” etc.), plus his like, rough years on the street as a child ends up producing this interpretation of wei wuxian, especially in modern aus, as someone who is very class conscious and “eat the rich”. but the fact of the matter is, wei wuxian IS rich. aside from the years in his childhood and the last two years of his life in yiling, like -- wei wuxian had money and status. he is gentry. he is respected as gentry. he is treated as a son by the sect leader of yunmeng jiang -- he does not have the jiang name, but it is so very clear that jiang fengmian favors him. wei wuxian is ranked fourth of all the eligible young masters in the cultivation world -- that is not a ranking he could have attained without being accepted into the upper class.

wei wuxian’s poverty does not affect him in the way that it affects jin guangyao or xue yang. he is of low-ish birth (still the son of jiang fengmian’s right hand man though! ok sure, “son of a servant” but like. >_> whatever anyways), but for most of his life he had money. he, jiang cheng, and their sect brothers go into town and steal lotus pods with the understanding that “jiang-shushu will pay for it”. this is a regular thing! that’s fucking rich kid behavior!!! wei wuxian is careless with money because he doesn’t have to worry about it. he still has almost all the benefits of being upper class: education, food security, respect, recognition etc. I think there may also be a misconception that wei wuxian was always on the verge of being kicked out by yu ziyuan, or that he was constantly walking on eggshells around her for fear of being disowned, but that is just textually untrue. i could provide receipts, but I admittedly don’t really feel like digging them up just now ;;

even in his last years in yiling, he was not the one who was dealing with the acute knowledge of poverty: wen qing is the one managing the money, and as far as we know, wei wuxian did little to no management of daily life during the burial mounds days -- mostly, he’s described as hiding in his cave for days on end, working on his inventions, running around like a force of chaos, frivolously making a mess of things -- it’s very very cute that he buries a’yuan in the dirt, but in classic wei wuxian fashion, he did Not think about the practical consequences of it -- that A’Yuan has no other clean clothes, and now he’s gotten this set dirty and has no intention of washing them. is this a personality thing? yeah, but I think it’s also indicative of his lack of concern over the logistics of everyday survival, re: wealth.

furthermore, i think it is important to remember that wei wuxian, when he is protecting the wen remnants, is not protecting common folk: he is still protecting gentry. fallen gentry, yes! but gentry nonetheless. wen qing was favored by wen ruohan, and wen ning himself says that he has a retinue of people under his command (the remnants, essentially). their branch of the family do not have the experience of living and growing in poverty -- they are impoverished and persecuted in their last years, but that’s a very different thing from being impoverished your whole life. (sidenote: I do not believe wei wuxian’s primary motivation for defending the wen remnants was justice -- i believe he did it because he felt he owed wen ning and wen qing a life debt, and once he was there, he wasn’t going to stand around and let the work camps go on. yes, he is concerned about justice and doing the right thing, but that’s not why he went in the first place. anyways, that’s another meta)

after wei wuxian returns, he then marries back into gentry, and very wealthy gentry at that. lwj provides him all the money he could ever want, he is never worried about going homeless, starving, being denied opportunities based on his class and accompanying disadvantages. who would dare? and neither wei wuxian nor lan wangji seem to have much interest in shaking up the order of things, except in little things like the way they teach the juniors. they live in gusu, under the auspices of the lan, and they live a happy, domestic life.

were his years on the street traumatizing? yes, of course they were, there’s so much delicious character exploration to be done re: wei wuxian’s relationship to food, his relationship to his own needs, and his relationship to the people he loves. it’s all important and good! but I feel very strongly that that experience, while it was formative for him, did not impart any true understanding of poverty and the common person’s everyday struggles, nor do I think he ever really gains that understanding. he is observant and canny and aware of class and blood, certainly, but not in a way that makes it his primary hill to die on (badum-tss).

this is in very stark contrast to characters like jin guangyao and xue yang, and to some extent, xiao xingchen and song lan. I’ll start with the daozhangs, because I think they’re the simplest (??).

I think both xiao xingchen and song lan have class consciousness, but in a very simplified, broad-strokes kind of way (at least, given the information we know about them). we know that the two of them share similar values and want to one day form their own sect that gives no weight to the nobility of your lineage and has no concern with your wealth. we also know that they both disdain intersect politics and are more concerned with ideals and principles rather than status. but, I think because of that, this actually somewhat limits their perception and understanding of how status is used to oppress. as far as we know, neither of them participated on any side in sunshot and they demonstrate much more interest in relating to the commoners. honestly, i hc that they were flitting around trying to help decimated towns, protecting defenseless villages etc. I ALSO think this has a lot of interesting potential in terms of xiao xingchen and wei wuxian’s relationship, if xiao xingchen is ever revived. regardless of whether you’re in CQL or novel verse, xiao xingchen really doesn’t know wei wuxian at all, other than knowing that he’s his shijie’s son. he knows that cangse-sanren met with a tragic end, like yanling-daoren before her, and that he wants to be different. but here is cangse-sanren’s son, laying waste to entire cities, desecrating the dead. I would very much like to get into xiao xingchen’s head during that period of time (and i think, if i do it right, i can write some of it into the songxiao fixit), but that’s neither here nor there, because i’ve wandered off from my point again.

i would posit that song lan is used to an ascetic lifestyle, and xiao xingchen probably is too -- but that’s different from poverty because there’s an element of choice to it. I also think that neither of them is particularly worldly, xiao xingchen especially. he lived on an isolated mountain until he was like, seventeen, and he came down full of ideals and naivete about how the world worked. I think that both of them see inequality, that they are angered by it, and that they want to do something about it -- but their solution is neither to topple the sects, nor is it to reform the system. rather, it seems to be more about withdrawing and creating their own removed world. I think that the daozhangs embody a kind of utopianism that isn’t present in the minds of any of the other characters, not even wangxian. honestly, baoshan-sanren’s mountain is a utopian ideal, but one that is not described. it exists outside of and beyond the world. i have a lot of jumbled, vague thoughts about utopianism generally, mostly informed by china miéville and ursula k. le guin, and I don’t think i have the ability to articulate them here, but i wanted to. hm. say something? there is something about the inherent dystopianism contained within every utopia, that utopias are necessary, but also reflections of the existence of terrible things in their conception. idk. there’s something in there, I know it!! but i suppose what I want to say is -- i do not think the daozhangs understand class and social hierarchy very deeply because they don’t see a need to examine it deeply. for their goals, the details aren’t the point. they’re not looking to reform within the system, they’re looking to build something outside of it. I think they spend a lot of time concerned with alleviating the symptoms of social oppression, and their values reflect the injustices they witness there.

regardless, even if their story ends in tragedy and there is a certain amount of critique re: the utopian approach, i think the text still emphasizes that xiao xingchen left a utopia and that he thought that people mattered enough for him to try, and that was an incredibly honorable, kind, and human thing to do.

YEAH SURE THE DAOZHANGS ARE THE SIMPLEST ok ok RETURNING to class and moving forward: xue yang.

i also don’t think xue yang has class consciousness lol, or not in any way that really matters, but I do think poverty impacted him in a much stronger way than it impacted wei wuxian. wei wuxian spent some years on the street as a child. xue yang grew up on the streets. chang ci’an’s horrific treatment of him was directly due to his class and social standing: chang ci’an is a nobleman and xue yang is not even worth the dirt beneath the wheels of his cart. what I think is the seminal point though, is that this does not make xue yang think particularly deeply about systemic injustice, because xue yang is so self-centered, self-driven, and individualistic. he is not even slightly concerned about how poverty and class might affect other people -- they’re other people. what he takes away from his experience is not an anger at being wrongfully cheated by a system, but an anger at being wrongfully cheated by a specific man.

xue yang is not particularly concerned with the politics of the aristocracy -- he has no obvious ambitions other than, “i want to eat sweets whenever i please”, “i want to hurt anyone who wrongs me”, and “i want to be so strong that no one can hurt me”. like, he just doesn’t care -- it’s not the kind of power he wants. he sneers at people for like, personal reasons, not class reasons -- “you think you’re better than me” re: xiao xingchen and song lan. to him, all people -- poor, wealthy, noble, common -- are essentially equal, and they are all beneath him. after all, what does he care what family someone comes from, how much money they have? everyone bleeds when you cut them. some of them might be harder to get to than others, but xue yang does not fear that sort of thing. it’s just another obstacle he needs to vault on his way to getting revenge and/or a pastry.

ANYWAYS onto jin guangyao (wow this is hm. getting rather long ahaha oh dear): I would argue that the two characters with the most acute understanding of class/societal politics and the injustice of them are jin guangyao and lan xichen. i’ll start with jin guangyao for obvious reasons.

where xue yang took the damaging effects of poverty as personal slights, I think jin guangyao is painfully aware that there is nothing personal about them, which is, in some ways, much worse. why are two sons, born on the same day to the same father, treated so differently? just because.

he watched his mother struggle and starve and work herself to the bone in a profession where she was constantly disrespected and abused for almost nothing in return, while his father could have lifted her out of poverty with the wave of a finger. why didn’t he? because he didn’t like her? no -- because he didn’t care, and the structures of the society they live in protect that kind of blase treatment of the lower class.

“so my mother couldn’t choose her own fate, is that her fault?” jin guangyao demands. he knows that he is unbelievably talented, that he has ambition, that he has potential, and that all of it is beyond his grasp just because his father didn’t want to bother with it. his mother’s life was destroyed, and his own opportunities were crippled with that negligence. it isn’t personal. that’s just the way things are. your individual identity is meaningless, your humanity does not exist. when he’s kicked down the steps of jinlin tai, it’s just more confirmation that no matter how talented or hardworking he is, no one will give him the time of day unless he finds a way to take it himself and become someone who “matters”.

jin guangyao’s cultivation is weak because he had a poor foundation, and he had a poor foundation because he was denied access to a good one. he copies others because that’s all he can do at this point, and he copies so well that he can hold his own against some of the strongest cultivators of his generation. he’s disparaged for copying and “stealing” techniques, but -- he never would have had to if only he had been born/accepted into the upper class. the fact is that i really do think jin guangyao was the most promising cultivator of his generation that we meet, including the twin jades and wei wuxian: he had natural talent, ambition, creativity, determination and cunning in spades. in some ways, I think that’s one of the overlooked tragedies of jin guangyao: the loss of not just the good man he could have been, but the powerful one too. imagine what he could have done.

jin guangyao spends his entire time in the world of the aristocracy feeling unsteady and terrified because he knows exactly how precarious his position is. he knows how easy it is to lose power, especially for someone like him. he’s working against so many disadvantages, and every scrap of honor he gets is a vicious battle. jin guangyao fears, and I think that’s something that’s lacking in xue yang, wei wuxian and the daozhangs’ experiences/understandings of poverty. i think it’s precisely that fear that emphasizes jin guangyao’s understanding of class and blood. jin guangyao exhibits an anxiety that neither wei wuxian nor xue yang do, and it’s because he truly knows how little he is worth in the eyes of society and how little there is he can do to change that. to me, it very much feels related to the anxiety of not knowing if tomorrow you’ll have something to eat, if tomorrow you’ll still have a home, if tomorrow someone will destroy you and never have to answer for it. it’s the anxiety of knowing helplessness intimately.

moreover, jin guangyao is the only person shown to use the wealth and power at his disposal to take concrete steps to actually help the common people typically ignored by the powerful -- the watchtowers. they’re described in chapter 42. it’s a system that is designed to cover remote areas that most cultivators are reluctant to go due to their inconvenience and the lack of means of the people who live there. the watchtowers assign cultivators to different posts, give aid to those previously forgotten, and if the people are too poor to pay what the cultivators demand, the lanling jin sect pays for it. jin guangyao worked on this for five years and burned a lot of bridges over it. people were strongly opposed to it, thinking that it was some kind of ploy for lanling jin’s personal benefit. but the thing is -- it worked. they were effective. people were helped.

i believe CQL frames the watchtowers as an allegory for a surveillance state/centralized control (i think?? it’s been a minute -- that’s the hazy impression i remember, something like a parallel to the wen supervisory offices?), but I personally don’t think that was the intent in the novel. the watchtowers are a public good. lanling jin doesn’t staff them with their own sect members -- they get nearby sects to staff them. it’s a warning network that they fund that’s supposed to benefit everyone, even those that everyone had considered expendable.

(did jin guangyao do terrible things to achieve this goal? yeah lol. it’s not confirmed, but his son sure did die... suspiciously...... at the hands of an outspoken critic of the watchtowers........ whom he then executed....... so like, maybe just a convenient coincidence for jin guangyao, two birds one stone, but. it seems. Unlikely.)

lan xichen is the only member of the gentry that ever shows serious compassion for and nuanced understanding of jin guangyao’s circumstances. lan xichen treats him as his equal regardless of jin guangyao’s current status -- even when he was meng yao, lan xichen treated him as a human being worthy of respect, as someone with great merits, as someone he would choose as a friend, but he did so knowing full well the delicate position meng yao occupied. this is in direct contrast to nie mingjue, who also believed that meng yao was worthy of respect as a human being, but was completely unable to comprehend the complexities of his circumstances and unwilling to grant him any grace. you know, the difference between “i acknowledge that your birth and status have had effects upon you, but I don’t think less of you for it” and “i don’t consider your birth and status at all when i interact with you because i think it is irrelevant” (“i don’t see color” anyone?)

to illustrate, from chapter 48:

大抵是觉得娼妓之子身上说不定也带着什么不干净的东西，这几名修士接过他双手奉上来的茶盏后，并不饮下，而是放到一边，还取出雪白的手巾，很难受似的，有意无意反复擦拭刚才碰过茶盏的手指。聂明玦并非细致之人，未曾注意到这种细节，魏无羡却用眼角余光扫到了这些。孟瑶视若未见，笑容不坠半分，继续奉茶。蓝曦臣接过茶盏之时，抬眸看他一眼，微笑道：“多谢。”

旋即低头饮了一口，这才继续与聂明玦交谈。旁的修士见了，有些不自在起来。

rough tl:

Probably because they believed that the son of a prostitute might also carry some unclean things upon his person, after these few cultivators took the teacups offered from [Meng Yao’s] two hands, they did not drink, but instead put them to one side, and furthermore brought out snow white handkerchiefs. Quite uncomfortably, and whether they were aware of it or not, they repeatedly wiped the fingers they had just used to touch the teacups. Nie Mingjue was not a detail-oriented person and never took note of such particulars, but Wei Wuxian caught these in the corner of his eye. Meng Yao appeared as if he had not seen, his smile unwavering in the slightest, and continued to serve tea. When Lan Xichen took the teacup, he glanced up at him and, smiling, said, “Thank you.”

He immediately dipped his head to take a sip, and only then continued to converse with Nie Mingjue. Seeing this, the nearby cultivators began to feel somewhat uneasy.

all right, since we’re in full cyan-rampaging-through-the-weeds mode at this point, i’m going to talk about how this is one of my favorite 3zun moments in the entire novel for characterization purposes because it really highlights how they all relate to one another, and to what degree each of them is aware of their own position in relation to the others and society as a whole.

1. nie mingjue, who is a forthright and blunt person, sets meng yao to serving tea and is done with it. he notices nothing wrong or inappropriate about the reactions of the people in the room because it’s not the sort of thing he considers important.

2. meng yao, knowing that his only avenue is to take it lying down with a smile, masks perfectly.

3. lan xichen, noticing all this, uses his own reputation to achieve two things at once: pointedly shame the other cultivators in attendance, and show meng yao that regardless of others’ opinions, he considers him an equal and does not endorse such behavior--and he does it while taking care that no fallout will come down on meng yao’s head.

is this yet another installment of cyan’s endless lxc defense thesis? why yes it is! no one is surprised! but this is my whole point: both meng yao and lan xichen understand the respective hierarchy and power dynamics within the room, while nie mingjue very much does not. this is not because nie mingjue is a bad person or because nie mingjue is stupid--it’s a combination of personality and upbringing. nie mingjue is straightforward and has no patience for such games. but then again, he can afford not to play because he was born into such a high position: that’s a privilege.

to break it down: meng yao knows that he is the lowest-ranked person in the room, sees the way people are subtly disrespecting him in full view of his general who is doing nothing about it. in some ways, this is good -- nie mingjue’s style of dealing with conflict is very direct and not at all suited to delicate political maneuvering. after all, the way he promoted meng yao was actually quite dangerous to meng yao: he essentially guaranteed that his men would bear meng yao a grudge and that their disrespect for him would only be compounded by their bitterness at being punished on his behalf. (it’s like, why often getting parents or teachers to intervene ineffectively in bullying can just be an incitement to more bullying -- same concept) meng yao’s reaction during that scene shows that he’s pretty painfully aware of this and is trying to defuse the situation to no avail. nie mingjue gives him a bootstrap speech (rip nie mingjue i love u so much but. sir) and then promotes him, which is pretty much the only saving grace of that entire exchange, for meng yao at least.

lan xichen, on the other hand, understands both that meng yao is the lowest-ranked person in the room and that any direct attempt to chastise the other cultivators in the room will only serve to hurt meng yao in the long run. he knows that if this were brought to nie mingjue’s attention, he would be outraged and not shy about it -- also bad for meng yao. so he uses what he has: his immaculate reputation. by acting contrary to the other cultivators’ behavior, he demonstrates that he finds their actions unacceptable but with the plausible deniability that it wasn’t directed at them, that this is just zewu-jun being his usual generous self. this means that the other cultivators have no one to blame but themselves, nothing to do but question their own actions. there is nowhere to cast off their discomfort. meng yao didn’t do anything. lan xichen didn’t do anything -- he just thanked meng yao and drank his tea, isn’t that what it’s there for? he doesn’t disrupt the peace, he doesn’t attack anyone and put them on the defensive, but he does make his position very clear.

i know this is a really small thing and i’m probably beating it to death, but I really think this shows just how cognizant lan xichen is of politics and emotional cause and effect in such situations. certainly, out of context I think the scene reads kind of cliche, but within the greater narrative of the story and within the arc of these characters specifically, I think it was a really smart scene to include. it also showcases lan xichen’s style of action: that he moves around and with a problematic situation as opposed to moving straight through.

not to be salty on main again, but this is why it’s very frustrating to me when I see people call lan xichen passive when he is anything but. his actions just don’t look like traditional “actions”, especially to an american audience. it’s easy to understand lan wangji and wei wuxian’s style of problem-solving: taking a stand, moving through, staying strong. lan xichen is juggling an inconceivable number of factors in any given situation, weighing his responsibilities in one role against those in another, and then trying to find the path through the thicket that will cause the least harm, both to himself and the thicket. lan wangji and wei wuxian are not particularly good at considering the far-reaching consequences of their actions -- again, not because they are bad people, but because of a combination of personality and upbringing. they’d just hack through the thicket, not thinking about the creatures that live in it. that is not a terrible thing! it isn’t. it’s a different way of approaching a problem, and it has different priorities. that’s okay. there are advantages and disadvantages on both sides, and where you come down is going to depend on your personal values.

okay we’ve spiraled far and away from my original point, but let’s circle back: i was talking about class.

I think it’s undeniable that class, birthright, fate etc. are some of the driving forces of thematic conflict in mdzs, and the way each character interacts with those forces reveals a lot about themselves and also about the larger themes of fate, chance, and what it means to be righteous and good and how that is and isn’t rewarded. a lot of the tragedy of mdzs (the tragedy that isn’t caused by direct aggression on the part of one group or another) stems from the injustices and slights that people suffered due to their lot in life. it isn’t fair. none of it is fair! we sympathize with jin guangyao because we recognize that what he suffered was unconscionable, even if we don’t excuse him. i sympathize A Lot with xue yang as well for similar reasons, though I understand that’s a harder sell. this is a story focused on the mistakes of an entrenched, aging gentry and the effects that those mistakes had on their children, and a lot of it has to do with prejudice based in class and birth status. whether the prejudice was the true reason or whether it was just a convenient excuse, the fact remains that the systems in place rewarded and protected the people in power who used it to cling to that power. mdzs is also a story of how the circumstances of one’s life can offer you impossible choices that you cannot abstain from, and it asks us to be compassionate to the people who made terrible choices in terrible times. it’s about the inherent complexity in all things! that sometimes, there are no good choices, and i don’t know, i’d like to think that people would show me compassion if I had to make the choices some of these characters did. not just wei wuxian, mind you, every single one of them. except jin guangshan because I Do Hate Him sorry. and i guess wen ruohan. i think that’s it.

good. GOD this is clocking in at //checks notes -- just over 5k. 8′D *stuffs some weeds into my mouth like the clown i am*

(ko-fi? :’D *lies down*)

[silvysartfulness]

sorry to bother, but I recently re-read the last chapter of Heaven has a Road, (36 for future reference), and I don't even know how to phrase my question here. Did/Do you have a clear idea of what was going on through Xue Yang's head? (I think you know exactly when I'm talking about), did/do you have something from his perspective? are we getting some insight into his head and what this meant to him in future chapters? speaking of, is there a ETA? cause Im DYING over here, checking my mail daily

Never a bother! I love getting to talk about Heaven Has A Road - people asking questions about it really help boost my inspiration/motivation! ♥

I'm assuming you mean the last scene, with SongXue..? There will definitely be more of whatever the hell that is up ahead! Both Song Lan and Xue Yang are approaching the "post-incident" morning in their own very different ways - it's definitely shifted their relationship dynamics in a way they both wrestle with, and will keep wrestling with for quite some time!

As for the scene itself, what went through Xue Yang's head started as anger and frustration at not only being filthy but having to rely on an enemy to help him get clean, and then equal parts furiously resenting and helplessly enjoying that physical touch, the illusion of closeness and care - he's every bit as touch starved as Xiao Xingchen, and he hasn't been getting hugs and kisses to take the edge of it. Probably more furious at himself and his body for reacting as it does than Song Lan, though.

But then, once Song Lan turns out to actually be equally aroused... That's a game-changer! Suddenly there's a chance to actually get some of that physical touch - distraction, pleasure, release...

But he knows how easy it is to piss Song Lan off - the uptight lump takes offense at anything! - so he consciously opts to keep his mouth shut and just let Song Lan take the reins, as it were. Trying to vibe as much as he possibly can that he's all for this, without actually saying anything crass enough to make the prissy daoshi run away.

And for all that the sex itself wasn't great, getting to have it was amazing. Doesn't matter all that much with whom, or the circumstances, or that it hurt - it knocked him right out of the angry/hurt/hopeless thought spirals in his head for a few blissful moments, and was exactly what he needed.

... Only problem now being that he wants more of where that came from, and Song Lan will not be very easy to convince to go a second round. XD

I drew this image for a scene from next chapter - Xue Yang greeting Song Lan the next morning, tousled and smouldering, wearing nothing but Song Lan's robes... It may be good Song Lan is already dead, or he might just have suffered a heart attack. ♥

As for next update... I just got the chapter back from my beta, so in theory, once I've made the suggested edits, it'll be ready to go! I do, however, want to finish another one for my buffer pile before I post 37, and don't have a chapter image ready either... So realistically, probably not this week. Maybe next one, if I can finish a chapter image before I leave town next weekend - I can write away from home, but the laptop isn't powerful enough to run Photoshop.

So your guess is as good as mine? 😂

I am still steadily writing ahead, though (currently at 228k 😬) so hopefully soon!

[robininthelabyrinth]

Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 14 - ao3 -

If Lan Qiren hadn’t had any idea on what to do with Cangse Sanren to begin with, he had even less of an idea of what to do when he received a letter from his sworn brother which, after some deciphering of the small talk and insincerely meant pleasantries that could just as easily be read as implicit threats, seemed to boil down to so I hear you have a lover now? and also come to the Nightless City at once.

I do not have a lover, Lan Qiren wrote back crossly. You should send whatever spies you have packing because they are clearly completely useless to you. Also, I have classes that I have no intention of missing. If you want company, recall that you have a wife.

That won him a few weeks of blissful silence, possibly due to Wen Ruohan’s shock but more likely due to Lan Qiren having spitefully chosen to send his reply by usual post rather than by special post, which was more expensive and also generally reserved for important sect matters and not for obvious fishing attempts for gossip about the personal lives of juniors.

Which Wen Ruohan should be above, anyway. What did it matter to him?

The response, not long after that, went something along the lines of so what you’re saying is that you haven’t won the immortal mountain’s disciple yet? if you come to Qishan, I can advise you and that irritated Lan Qiren most of all, because right up until that point he hadn’t known that Cangse Sanren was a disciple of the famous Baoshan Sanren, the best-known immortal still in contact with the mortal world.

Mostly because Cangse Sanren hadn’t ever bothered to introduce herself.

It bothered him, a little. More than a little. She knew how much he valued people acting according to the rules; even if she didn’t care for them, shouldn’t she respect his inclination?

(It turned out that she didn’t introduce herself because she didn’t have a proper name, just the title that everyone used for her. Baoshan Sanren let everyone keep the name they came to the mountain with, but Cangse Sanren had come too young for any name at all, and so she’d never gotten one in all the suspiciously unspecified years she had spent on the timeless mountain. It was a pretty good reason not to introduce yourself, as such things went, and it also belatedly explained why she took offense to people calling anyone old.)

I am not trying to win anyone, he wrote back to Wen Ruohan. And even if I was, which I am not, I would still have classes and am not currently at liberty to travel. Has there been some sort of terrible tragedy such that your Wen sect is so desperate for additional people in the Nightless City?

You are not just any person but my sworn brother, Wen Ruohan responded. Am I not entitled to see you? Maybe I want to see this beard you’re reputedly growing.

Lan Qiren rolled his eyes and threw the letter into the box he was keeping all the others. He was trying to grow a beard, as it happened, though being a newly-turned eighteen it was a slow and frustrating process. He wasn’t entirely sure he liked the itchy feeling of it growing, either, but stroking his chin as if in thought was nearly as cathartic as waving his hands, only more socially acceptable; he liked that part very much.

He’d always had a tendency towards strange motions – moving his hands or arms, tapping on things, or rocking back and forth when he was especially distressed – but his brother had always hated it especially, always quoting Do not move arbitrarily at him even though he knew that that wasn’t the fundamental meaning of that rule. That wouldn’t have been so much of an issue, except most other people seemed to agree with him, citing the importance of acting in a dignified and restrained manner, limiting unnecessary movement and remaining still and calm as a placid pool of water no matter what the circumstance.

The beard was an acceptable compromise. Given how common beards were in the sect, it would be hard to criticize Lan Qiren without accidentally insulting an elder – and it felt so good to be able to move freely, the action serving as an aid for emotional regulation that he desperately needed.

Of course, Cangse Sanren thought it was ugly.

Lan Qiren didn’t agree, but he also didn’t think it was any of her business what he did with his face. Even if it was ugly, so what? He wasn’t particularly egotistical.

Accordingly, he thanked her stiffly for her opinion and then proceeded to ignore it.

Apparently, that didn’t sit well with her, a fact Lan Qiren only discovered when he woke up one day, groggy and unclear as to what had happened the night before, to find himself shaven clean and Cangse Sanren beaming at him from within his own room, to which he had never invited her.

He did not react well.

Stories of your shouting have reached even Qishan, Wen Ruohan’s next letter said. Was what your little lover did really so bad? I hadn’t known you were so sensitive. It’s not as if it won’t grow back.

This is your fault, Lan Qiren wrote back, irrational and upset, his calligraphy rough from the way his hand shook – though whether in rage or something else he couldn’t quite tell. I don’t want to hear from you.

Truly his reaction had been out of proportion with Cangse Sanren’s offense. Shaving a beard, especially a half-grown thing like that, was little more than a childish prank, even if it had taken him several months to get as far as he had; in the end, it was really only a blow to his vanity, and perhaps the loss of a convenient emotional crutch.

And yet, when he’d woken up and seen her there where she wasn’t welcome – when he’d realized that he couldn’t remember the evening before, just the way he couldn’t remember what had happened in the Nightless City that day, waking up to Wen Ruohan smiling at him and an oath he didn’t know nor want – when he’d tasted the sour taste of day-old liquor on his tongue –

He’d panicked.

She’d realized it, he thought in retrospect; the ever-present smile had slowly dripped off her mouth as he stared at her blankly for the first few moments, frozen, and had morphed into an expression of shock when he had broken through his paralysis to start screaming at her to go, get out, leave – he’d even picked up some of his own things to throw at her, just to make her leave faster.

He continued smashing his things after she’d gone, unthinking in his frenzy and unsure why he was so upset, and in the end when clarity had returned and he realized what he’d done he’d been so ashamed that he’d grabbed his guqin and slunk away, retreating to the rooms where the Lan sect entered into seclusion. He couldn’t go into real seclusion with so little preparation, of course, but he was practiced enough at inedia that he could skip meals for a few days and not need to see the world for at least a week.

Part of the feeling of shame was that he didn’t know why he had reacted so badly. Wasn’t it normal for peers his age to play that sort of trick on each other? It hadn’t been meant as a real insult.

He had no right to feel so betrayed.

And yet, he did.

Cangse Sanren had visited later that day, her hand tapping lightly on the door bound by wards and her normally brash voice murmuring explanations and not-quite apologies – saying that she hadn’t realized what it had meant to him, that she wouldn’t have done it if she’d known, asking if he wouldn’t come out to talk to her about it and let her apologize properly.

He ignored her.

He ignored her the next day and the day after, too. His hands were unsteady when he tried to play calming songs for himself, his music tangled and knotted up like the feelings in his chest.

On the fourth day, she came and sat by his door in the evening, late and near to curfew.

“I didn’t know, you know,” she finally said after sitting there for nearly a shichen. “About what happened to you in the Nightless City.”

His hands froze over the guqin.

“Drinking liquor comes as easily to me as breathing,” she continued. “No one’s ever been able to play a trick on me because I got drunk – it’s everyone else who falls over in the end, not me. Maybe what why, when someone told me how badly your family handles its liquor, I thought only of how funny it would be…and not how it would feel, waking up and realizing that you didn’t know what happened. What someone could have done to you.” She was silent for a moment. “What I did do.”

Lan Qiren shut his eyes tightly.

Yes, he thought to himself. She was right. That was why he was so upset.

It wasn’t about the beard at all.

“An oath made when you didn’t know it doesn’t count, you know.”

He laughed harshly, the sound catching in his throat like thick mud. “It does,” he said, and his voice was hoarse from the lack of speech. “Of course it counts. It’s my honor, in the end…anyway, there’s no reason for me to lose my head over it. Sect Leader Wen’s powerful and influential; there are those who would cut off their right hands for a connection with him, much less an oath of brotherhood.”

He wasn’t even all that angry at Wen Ruohan for doing it, either, not really. There wasn’t much point – his few experiences with the other man so far showed that that was just what he was like, always taking instead of asking, and scheming was as innate to inter-sect politics as fighting. Might as well be angry at his grandfather for the ancestral weakness to liquor in the Lan lineage.

It had only been the shock of Cangse Sanren’s unexpected actions that had made it feel like a knife stabbed into his back, a scabbed-over wound suddenly ripped open again.

“You didn’t trust him,” Cangse Sanren pointed out. “You trusted me. And I scared you.”

Perhaps that was true.

“You’re still you, you know. Even while drunk.” She chuckled. “You talk more, care less what people think of you; you’re a little more willing to stand up for yourself, a little more bitter, a little less consciously kind. You told me all about music, something that went over my head, then went to sleep in just the right and proper way, albeit right on the floor. I had to wait until you were asleep to shave you.”

That was a relief to hear. Lan Qiren hated the idea of being so vulnerable.

Although – perhaps he wasn’t. According to Lao Nie, he’d apparently kneed Wen Ruohan in the balls that night for bothering him with nonsense or possibly for trying to leave before he finished explaining something, sometime either before or after their oath.

(After, he assumed. If it had been before, it seemed more likely that he would’ve ended up dead.)

“Anyway, I wouldn’t have done anything serious,” she added. “You wouldn’t have woken up married or anything.”

“It’s not you,” he assured her hastily, alarmed by the thought. “I didn’t mean to imply anything about your character, which I know is good; I know you wouldn’t have done anything like that. It’s only – you don’t always know what people think is enough, coming from the immortal mountain as you do. If someone really wanted to push the issue, or if you didn’t have the background you did, just you being in my room unattended might’ve served as an excuse. And then where would we be?”

She was silent for a while.

“You really don’t want to be married to me,” she finally said. “You’re not playing games or anything; you really don’t.”

Lan Qiren felt something lurch in his chest.

“No,” he said, painfully honest. “Did – did you?”

“Maybe a little,” she said, and Lan Qiren winced. The possibility hadn’t even occurred to him, not even when others had suggested it.

“I didn’t mean…”

“I know,” she said, and her voice was warm. “Don’t worry about me, Qiren; I’ll get over it soon enough. There’s no pain I won’t forget a day later, never learning anything, it’s just the way I am.”

He gnawed on his lower lip. “…can I ask why?”

“Why you, you mean?” He could hear her shrugging through the door, the fabric of her clothing rustling against the wall she was leaning against. “You care about things, deeply and truly. Rules, honor, the right path…I like the way you think, the way you care. You have a good heart and a good brain. Why not you?”

“I’m sorry,” he said, and felt rather a wretch over the whole thing. “I didn’t mean to…to…”

She laughed. “You didn’t lead me on, Qiren! You only ever treated me as a friend, and I was, I think. Maybe still am?”

“You are,” he said, and looked down as his guqin, then sighed, picking it up and going to the door. There was no point in pretending to be in seclusion now that the knot in his heart had loosened, and he was starting to get hungry. “Come on, let’s go. I feel a need to graze on the kitchen’s leftover vegetables, as if I were a wild rabbit.”

She beamed up at him, round face shining like the moon.

The next day, after he finished doing penance for missing classes without advance notice – two dozen strikes, but no more – Lan Qiren went down the mountain and purchased some tea said to have especially strong stimulant properties, and gave it to Cangse Sanren.

She blinked at it, then looked at him.

“If you brew this in the morning, you won’t be so tired all the time,” he told her, and shrugged. “Since we’re friends and all.”

He didn’t have that many friends – so few as to not even have recognized her as being one. He was determined to cherish them.

She smiled.

The next day after that, there was surprising news in the Cloud Recesses, the gossip reaching the classroom faster than the messenger sent there specifically for that purpose.

Wen Ruohan had come to pay a visit.

[tangledinmdzs]

night hunt injuries (heavy), junior quartet headcannons

junior quartet reaction to you being gravely injured, coming back from a night hunt 

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧ ✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

Lan Sizhui

the intense burns, wafting in the air 

the music that is played fills up every available space, seeping into every empty crevice

the guqin glows with spiritually infused music, making the air heavier than it would have been without 

Sizhui plays diligently

desperately

when his eyes open, the breath that comes from him is strained

the final note of his spiritual cleansing song hums in the air, only stopping when he places his hand on the stringboard

Sizhui breathes quietly, blinking out of his stupor to look down at his hands

they’re warm from the hours of playing

his fingertips are coated in a thin layer of crimson, drops dotting the metal-nylon strings

but Sizhui doesn’t feel any pain from that

only when he looks up to see your quiet unconscious form a few feet away, does his heart suddenly ache

Sizhui seals his emotions, regaining his focus with a deep calming breath

he doesn’t look at you anymore

he simply plays

he has to play

‘please’, he pleads with every strum on the guqin

he plays and plays and plays

hours pass by like honey in a jaw

his tiredness becomes apparent, only when his string whines an out of place note

it breaks his concentration

Sizhui’s eyes open

they land on you lying on your bed quiet and still

it takes him a while (longer than he would have liked), but he notices the very shallow rise of your chest

‘please’ Sizhui whispers, pleads into the quiet overcast when his piece is finished

the air is tense, quiet

you do not wake

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

Lan Jingyi

“...that’s enough.....”

“....”

“...he hasn’t stopped for a while...”

“....”

“Jingyi” 

the shout of his name breaks his focus

Jingyi blinks his eyes open just to stare at Jin Ling’s face

he doesn’t understand why it looks so blurry

honestly, the entire room looks blurry and tilted

Jingyi doesn’t even realize he’s unsteady until he’d felt someone catch his arm

it almost makes him let go of his hold on your wrist

but at the thought of you, Jingyi steadies himself 

Sizhui’s warm hand doesn’t leave his arm

“I’m fine...” JIngyi breathes out, but his voice sounds weak even to his own ears

Jin Ling looks like he wants to shout again but Sizhui interrupts

“You need to rest,” Sizhui tells his friend but just like the first time he tried, Jingyi brushes him off

“It’s fine, I can still go on,” Jingyi says, but Sizhui’s grip moves to his friend’s shoulder and stays there

“Y/N’s already like this, we don’t need another person dying-”

“Y/N is not dying” Jingyi states darkly, silencing any other words from Jin Ling’s mouth. 

Jingyi turns away from Jin Ling and sits down, heavily on the floor by your bedside with Sizhui’s help.

he readjusts his grip on your wrist and takes a deep calming breath

you had come back from a night hunt a few nights ago, spiritual energy so low it was a wonder how you had made it back to Gusu Lan at all

you barely had energy to recall what had transpired before you had lost consciousness

and ever since, you hadn’t woken up again

you had been in a coma for nearly four days now

and Jingyi had been the constant present at your bedside, feeding you spiritual energy nearly (basically) 24/7

Sizhui rubs his friend’s shoulder, taking in a deep breath himself

“What Jin Ling means is you might collapse like Y/N too if you continue,” Sizhui explains, hand overlapping Jingyi’s when he catches his friend trying to sneak some energy to you again

“Y/N needs it more,” Jingyi protests, gently

“But you don’t have anymore left to give,” Sizhui replies, and holds his friend’s hand tightly over your wrist

the quiet between you all is heavy

Jingyi focuses on your light, slow pulse that had been his anchor for the past few hours

“I can take over for you; go rest a bit and then come back.” Sizhui tells his friend with a finality that Jingyi doesn’t have the energy to fight

doesn’t think he can fight against Sizhui anyways

Sizhui helps Jingyi stand up again and Jin Ling comes to take his arm, albeit worriedly

even then, Jingyi doesn’t leave your room until he sees the soft blue flow from Sizhui’s hand to your wrist 

only then does he leave with Jin Ling in relative silence

they’ve both only just started back onto the path to the pavilion when Jin Ling speaks again 

“I’m sorry, I overstepped” Jin Ling says to Jingyi when you both are far from the quiet somber air of your residence

Jingyi shakes out of his friends helping grip, even though he is unsteady on his own.

Jin Ling stretches his arms out just in case, but when he locks eyes with Jingyi, he knows the other doesn’t need his help anymore.

“Y/N won’t die. I won’t allow it”

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

Jin Ling

 Jin Ling’s hurried steps slow

maybe...maybe it had been a good thing that he hadn’t been able to see you

but it had been a week since the last night hunt

and he hadn’t heard from you since

it doesn’t sit right with him

but when enters the physician’s tent and he looks at you now...

he can’t breathe

you’re dressed in your inner robes, something that he had always imagined seeing you in intimately for the first time...not...not injured like this

there’s a large white bandage wrapped around most of your lower torso, the color almost as pale as your skin

when Jin Ling stumbles close to your bedside he catches the not even a pale parlor of your skin, but the near translucence of it 

you don’t stir even as he falls to his knees loudly by your bedside, wide eyes staring at your still form

if he hadn’t noticed the soft lift of your chest he would have thought...he would have almost believed...

“what happened” Jin Ling asks quietly, when the physician’s step slow to a stop nearby

"a kind of monster demon... still unclear from the younger disciple’s accounts...” the physician answers shakily 

“you do not have to worry though, many of the younger disciples from this mission are safe” the physician adds on and Jin Ling closes his eyes and sighs

of course, just like you to risk yourself for the protection of others, Jin Ling thinks heavily to himself

he hopes, prays, that your sacrifice will not cost your entire life

“how long as Y/N been like this,” Jin Ling asks when he leaves his thoughts

“...nearing a week now... Sect Leader...” 

Jin Ling’s eyes flicker to your still form and then harden with his voice

“you will search through all of Lanling’s medical inventories for any needed supplies and herbs. you are free to use as much as you need and if there is anything that isn’t found, report back to me as i will have it delivered to us.” Jin Ling commands, his sect leader voice coming out

though it sounds smaller next to your bedside

“leave us for now,” Jin Ling commands, doesn’t even turn around to acknowledge the stiff departing greeting

his eyes stay on your sleeping face

if the physician had seen his hand wrap around your limp hand, he doesn’t comment

only when he hears the door to the room close does he finally bow his head, leaning against your hand

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

Ouyang Zizhen

the signal had gone off last night

it lit up the dark midnight of Gusu Lan 

and this morning, nobody could believe all the injured that were carried back

Zizhen easily rushed in to aid with his peers not just because it was needed but because you had been on this night hunt

and he hadn’t seen you come back yet

“Y/N” Zizhen calls your name amongst all the stretchers and injured surrounding the physician tents

but no one answers to your name

some people look up at him

others called him over for extra help and assistance

but none of them are ever you

Zizhen is truly on the brink of tears

because your unit had only around 10, 15 people at most

and barely half of them came back

he stands by the gate for hours and he’s nearly close to tears because he’s asked everyone and looked everywhere

no one knew where you were

or where you could possibly be

Zizhen circles around the main gates of Cloud Recess like a guard, staying there until late into the afternoon

the sun is nearly setting when a shadow flies overhead

and it takes him an extra second to believe his eyes

he’s running to you, meeting you half way on the path, your name on his lips

when you land from your sword, you are spent

the moment your feet touch the ground, you close your eyes

you fall to your knees just as Zizhen runs up to you

he breaks the rest of your fall as he brings you into his arms

“Y/N” Zizhen whispers your names shakily

there’s no response except a breathy exhale, as you lull your head again his chest

he gathers you into his arms quickly, getting a sturdy grip before running back for help

a heartbeat by your head lulls you into darkness

[bigbadredpanda]

Hi there! I wanna ask about the ressurection in mdsz. I am from a dharmic religious background and as I understand, resurrection involves binding the soul to the corpse using resentment which comes from bad (for lack of a better word) karma. This must really mess up the reincarnation cycle and ultimately the path to nirvana right? So, what would this mean for corpses brought back by wwx&wrh, especially for WN, song lan & nmj? Are WN and song lan effectively immortal? Thx in advance 😄.

Hi! Apologies for the long answer delay, these are very interesting questions and I needed to do some research and digging around as Chinese spiritual beliefs are such a complex subject! I’ll only lay out some broad strokes as a more in-depth analysis would be way beyond the scope of my knowledge ^^' Of course, if I get anything wrong, please do correct me!

As you mention Wen Ruohan, may I make the assumption that you were acquainted with MDZS through the live action? His interest in demonic cultivation as well as the Yin metal subplot were unique to Chenqingling and the live action also made a number of changes like replacing the reanimated corpses by “puppets” due to strict censorship laws that ban the portrayal of a great many things including supernatural aspects. My answer is primarily based on the framework of the novel but in this case it should still apply to the live action!

Systems of beliefs and practices in China tend not be mutually exclusive but intertwined, they find their roots in a number of spiritual/philosophical/religious movements, the main of which being Buddhism, Taoism, Confucianism and folk religion.

Chinese folklore has a long history of ghost tales and modern fantasy cultivation novels are one more facet of that tradition, corpses reviving and ghosts coming back to haunt the living are considered to be fairly “natural” occurrences, “natural” in the sense that they are relatively commonplace. Exorcising malevolent beings to protect common folk is the bread and butter of the average cultivator and that’s how the story starts out with the Gusu Lan disciples being tasked by the Mo family to eliminate some walking corpses.

看来这莫家庄近来不大太平。走尸，意如其字，即为走路的死人，一种较为低等也十分常见的尸变者。一般目光呆滞，行走缓慢，杀伤力并不强，但也够平常人担惊受怕的了，光是那股腐臭就够吐一壶。

It seemed that Mo village had not been peaceful of late. Walking corpses which were dead people able to move around as their name implied were rather low-level and frequently seen creatures that came from transformed corpses. In general, their gaze was lifeless and their gait slow. They were not particularly threatening but they were enough to scare away common folk as their sole putrid stench could make one vomit. (ch.3)

Ghosts, walking corpses and even fierce corpses are a common nuisance that can arise from a variety of causes: an unnatural death, lingering resentment, lack of proper rituals for the funeral and so on. For instance, there’s a fierce corpse paying a visit to a person that wronged him in life in the gate-crashing extra (ch.120-123).

Concerning the place of religion in the world of MDZS, we know that the ancestor of the Gusu Lan Sect, Lan An, was originally Buddhist monk who left his temple to lead a secular life and then founded a Sect. His descendants uphold practices that originate from their ancestor such as studying Buddhist scripture. However, cultivators are not shown to be particularly pious, they do not worship deities or hold religious festivals, that’s the domain of the common folk: the worship of the local stone goddess or the attendees of the Guanyin temple (even though it was built by Jin Guangyao). The practices that cultivators observe do not fall under one particular religious denomination, they are part of the ubiquitous rituals related to filial piety such as ancestor worship. It’s also worthwhile to note that the purpose of cultivation comes is essentially taoist: to refine the self and prolong one’s lifetime. In more high fantasy settings (MDZS is described as low fantasy xianxia by the author), this ultimate goal is to attain immortality which would be at odds with Buddhist beliefs to reach nirvana.

The worlds created in wuxia and xianxia genre are rife with references to Buddhist, Taoist, Confucian beliefs and practices but as we can see these different influences cohabit together. The topic of the afterlife in MDZS lore is not really broached, the author mentions in an interview that while Wei Wuxian was dead, the remains of his consciousness was stuck in some sort of unending nightmare. Some other poor souls wander the earth, unable to pass on without the assistance of a cultivator. Elsewhere, in chapter 125, Wei Wuxian recalls suspecting an old man fiercely guarding his lotus lake to be the reincarnation of lotus spirit because of his uncanny tendency to know exactly when a lotus pilferer (Wei Wuxian) is nearby. In chapter 86, a cultivator surmises that Wen Ruohan must be fuming from Jin Guangyao’s betrayal in the Netherworld (referred to as the Nine Springs in Chinese). And then you have the memorial tablets in the ancestral halls that are traditionally said to house the deceased’s soul. As there is no single answer, what lies beyond the veil of death remains a bit of a mystery. It’s possible that there is a mix of all these different beliefs just like in folk religion. Upon death, a soul might linger in the mortal world or go straight to the Netherworld where it will be judged (ancient China being the precursor of bureaucracy, their idea of the afterlife is also very bureaucratic with different Courts to punish evildoers). Should the soul be found guilty, it will remain for a time in the Netherworld to be punished and to atone for its crimes and then move on the cycle of reincarnation.

After this long-winded introduction to spirituality in MDZS-verse, I’m finally coming back to your questions. Demonic cultivation does not grant Wei Wuxian powers over life and death. The corpses he raises and controls are those that are already brimming with resentful energy and already possess the latent potential to arise on their own. Nie Mingjue belongs to the same category although he became a more dangerous fierce corpse. Corpses such as him will remain as they are until they are quelled. In Lan Qiren’s lesson, Lan Wangji enumerates the accepted ways to deal with such a corpse:

蓝忘机并不去看魏无羡，颔首示礼，淡声道：“度化第一，镇压第二，灭绝第三。先以父母妻儿感之念之，了其生前所愿，化去执念；不灵，则镇压；罪大恶极，怨气不散，则斩草除根，不容其存。玄门行事，当谨遵此序，不得有误。”

Without sparing a glance to Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji nodded and bowed, he intoned, “First, liberation. Second, suppression. Third, extermination. Appeal first to the deceased’s attachment to his kin, achieve the desires they could not whilst they were living, release them from the fetters binding them to this world. If that method proves ineffective, proceed with suppression. The more grievous the crimes, the more difficult it is to dissipate resentful energy. In this case, it is thus necessary to exterminate them completely and not leave a shred remaining. This is the protocol of the cultivation world and must be observed scrupulously and undeviatingly.  (ch.14)

Wen Ning and Song Lan are different from these mindless, violent corpses as they were able to regain consciousness through advanced techniques of demonic cultivation. They are effectively immortal but destructible. As the author said, how long they may live depends on proper maintenance!

[goldencorecrunches]

LanLan Rural Vet/Animal Sanctuary AU ~ from the LanLan discord --

It was the rain that made Lan Xichen start laughing. "Oh, I'm sorry. Oh dear," he said, one hand pressed to his chest in the passenger seat, the corners of his mouth helplessly turned upward. Thunder boomed, heaven's drums arguing from far away: Lan Xichen bent forward and laughed harder, cupping the back of his head. Song Lan didn't feel the urge to laugh himself, but he could appreciate the sheer ridiculousness of the bad luck that kept finding them today. First Wen Qing, his tech, had come in sneezing like an elephant with a head cold and so he'd sent her home with stern instructions not to return until she was better. Then he'd gotten a call from the farmer who'd dug the ancestral plow farthest up the farthest mountain to come quick because his best cow was in labor, and having trouble with it-- the cow Song Lan had not been told was pregnant. 

Then his car had refused to start, and he'd had to bargain with the grumpy auntie who delivered the post for the use of her shuddering pickup truck, a behemoth half rusted through that definitely hadn't seen the wet side of a sponge for many a long-toothed year. Then Lan Xichen, the director of the backcountry vet-and-sanctuary, had come rushing out as he'd pulled onto the gravel road, begging to come with so he could escape for a few hours his visiting uncle. (That part hadn't been so bad-- driving with Lan Xichen up the winding country road, the valley unfolding out beneath them, summer trees vibrant and lush on either side. Auntie's truck had no air conditioning, of course, so they'd rolled down the windows with the grating hand cranks and the short pieces of hair that had come loose from Lan Xichen's ponytail had blown around his face, his smiling eyes.)

(When Song Lan had taken this job, a year ago come June, he had not expected the pre-existing half of the administration to be the most beautiful man he had ever seen. "Zichen," Xingchen had said to him over video call that night, teasing, "you're such a hopeless romantic. Talk to him! Get to know each other! What could go so terribly wrong?" "He could drag me halfway across the world with only a backpack and a single change of clothes," Song Lan had signed back, biting the mirth into the side of his cheek, and Xingchen had blushed, pretty pink up to their hairline. Song Lan missed them. Of course. They were coming in fall, a hard-wrestled break in their schedule that they guarded against teenage fervency and staid official alike, and Song Lan couldn't tally the days until then without breaking his own heart.)

Up the mountain, the cow had not been giving birth to anything but her own insides. The farmer was not pleased when Song Lan through Lan Xichen told him this, elbow-deep, as if Song Lan had come all the way out there from some cattle-themed plot of revenge. He likely wouldn't call Song Lan again even if the situation was dire, which meant his animals would go untreated; the knowledge of it itched under Song Lan's skin, making him have to grimace apologetically at Lan Xichen when on the drive back he realized his own company was less than engaging. And then Auntie's truck had made a noise like a steel chain through a meat grinder and stopped in the middle of the road. And then it had started raining. Lan Xichen's laughter was running up the wrong side of hysteria. Seeing the rain start to darken the shirt over his shoulder, feeling the damp on his own, Song Lan reached around Lan Xichen's back and dragged at the handle until the window began to close. One perk of old trucks-- when they broke down on you, you could still work the windows. He repeated the process on his own side, focusing furiously on not being weird about the heat of Lan Xichen's body he'd felt press against his own arm and chest leaning over. The air inside the cab immediately became sticky and stale. "It's just-- I was supposed to take my uncle out for dinner tonight-- he's going to be so annoyed--" Gently, feeling a nervous spark in his belly at the presumption, Song Lan laid a hand on the sleeve of Lan Xichen's collared shirt. To his great relief Lan Xichen leaned into the pressure. It seemed to give him the wherewithal to swallow his frantic giggling, his shoulders shaking as he hiccuped; Song Lan tapped his thumb in the crook of Lan Xichen's elbow in a manner he hoped was comforting. (People were always surprised, either when they found out he was a veterinarian, or when they found out he was, as one receptionist had put it, a "clean freak;" they didn't go together in public consciousness. Usually Song Lan lacked the energy to explain that it was about where dirtiness belonged. An exam table should be sterile. The animal upon it should not be: if it was, it would be dead. Humans were the difficult ones, because they ought to wash their hands more than they usually did.) (Besides, it wasn't like he didn't wear gloves.) Finally taking a deep, shaky breath, Lan Xichen sat upright and let his hands fall into his lap. He peeked at Song Lan from the corner of his eye. "I'm...well. In control again, I suppose. Oh, that was embarrassing." His arm jumped under Song Lan's palm, but he did not pull away.

"This is certainly...an adventure," Song Lan signed with his free hand. Lan Xichen's smile went wide for a moment, lopsided, and Song Lan felt the victory like a hot drink on a cold day. "It has been," Lan Xichen agreed. He fidgeted with the denim over his knees. Well: tried to. It was tight denim. There wasn't a lot to fidget with.  "I should call the clinic and tell them we're stranded. If we'll get any reception up here, and with the rain." He sounded reluctant. Song Lan, personally, wanted to get back to his own house and get under Xingchen's knitted blanket and tell the world to go fuck itself dry, but he didn't have an...uncle, waiting for him. Creeping over him was the unshakeable sense that he had been gifted something precious, in Lan Xichen's vulnerability. Despite his easy manner and his compassion, Lan Xichen was, Song Lan had decided during several months of study, terribly lonely, and unsure how to stop. He held himself apart without seeming to, diverting questions back to shared interests, breezily finding an excuse every time their little mob of vet-techs and animal-enthusiasts invited him to join them after hours; and it did not help that to an individual they all viewed him with something of awe. When you were that good-looking, and that kind, it came with the territory. So Song Lan pushed down the irritation at being stuck in the oxidizing shell of what had once been a functional vehicle and unbuckled his seatbelt. Struggling a little in the confined space, he shucked his sturdy flannel and held it out. Lan Xichen stared at him, mouth open ever so slightly. His eyes were shining; Song Lan could feel the back of his neck heat up. "You take a nap under this," he signed, awkward. "Let me call. My phone's got better range anyway." "Because it's not a fancy bit of overpriced nonsense?" Despite himself Song Lan snorted; he and Lan Xichen had antagonistic views towards personal technology. "Exactly." "It's soft," Lan Xichen murmured, as his fingers closed over the dark green plaid. Song Lan tried to pretend he wasn't flushing thoroughly. (When they were rescued, three hours later, by Wen Qing's younger brother in his mountain-tire-fitted jeep, Song Lan had to touch Lan Xichen's shoulder to shake him awake. In the grey light from the overcast sky he seemed to blur, at the edges, soft and precious as a rabbit's underbelly. Song Lan swallowed thickly and looked away. "Keep it," he signed, when Lan Xichen tried to hand back the flannel. It was chilly in just his t-shirt, but that was all right. He'd survive. "It suits you better than it does me." "I don't think I agree with that," Lan Xichen said, and by the time Song Lan had recovered from his subsequent heart attack Lan Xichen was meters away, climbing up his own porch with Song Lan's shirt wrapped around him, pulled tight against the cool post-storm crispness.)

[gusu-emilu]

seven nights to turn: author's meta

Symbolism & Parallels

Time to be self-indulgent. Am I significant enough to be posting about my own fic lore? Probably not, but here I am. Blame @eldritch-elrics and @qi-ling for telling me I was allowed to do this.

I also want to journal for myself about this story before I forget my thoughts months later. A little fic diary, if you will.

I'm going to talk about the meanings of:

counting nights and days

pruning plants

branding and insignia

kneeling

Counting Nights and Days

Jiang Cheng's state of mind in Chapter 1 is very different from Chapter 4. In the beginning of the story, he is bitter and restless. His memories haunt him. He counts time by nights—has for years—because the nights are harder to make it through.

By the end of the story, he is openly grateful in his narration for Wei Wuxian and Jin Ling's safety, and he has gone from calling himself selfish to giving to Wen Ning out of something more than just guilt. The shift from counting nights to counting days reflects this.

I also played with this concept in the titles and section headers. As a refresher, the chapter titles are 1) from first to fifth night, 2) from sixth to seventh night, 3) turn, 4) from first to fifth day. And of course, the story is called Seven Nights to Turn.

Jiang Cheng "turns" in multiple ways. The surface level turn is from counting nights to days. The emotional turn is how his perception of Wen Ning changes. The physical turn involves kneeling...and I'll talk about that soon.

Wen Ning also has a turn of his own, as he realizes that he isn't as repulsive as he thinks, that he isn't as responsible for the past as he thinks, that Jiang Cheng didn't give him the talismans and tea for the reason he thinks. That he is allowed to express negative emotions once in a while. He can have some catharsis by confessing things to Jiang Cheng that he feels like he can't say to Wei Wuxian or Lan Sizhui. And at the very end of the story, he "turns" to travel to Tanzhou and meet Song Lan, starting a new direction in his life as he can begin to heal and grow on his own. Before coming back to Lotus Pier, of course *wink wink*

Now for the section headers. If you didn't translate them while reading, I'll do that now. Until the "turn," the nights are marked 第一晚 (First Night), 第二晚 (Second Night), etc., and the days are marked 白天 (Daytime). Wen Ning's POV in Chapter 2, aka his breakdown, is marked 未知 (Unknown), because the reader can decide for themselves when that scene happens. It also represents that Wen Ning feels lost in that moment. After the "turn," the night is marked 晚上 (Nighttime), and the days are marked 第一天 (First Day), 第二天 (Second Day), etc. So, the shift from counting nights to days happens on several levels.

Pruning Plants

In Chapter 3, after Jiang Cheng and Wen Ning reach some form of peace, if not a full reconciliation, they sit at the tea table in Wen Ning's cabin, talking about their families or sitting in silence. Wen Ning brings over one of his plants to prune while they sit together.

Snipping away the leaves represents how, throughout the entire story, they bring up moments from the past and find a way to release them. Before they were able to reconcile enough to sit at Wen Ning's tea table (without Jiang Cheng wanting to flip it over), they had to go through explosive confrontations about the past. But finally, some of those grievances are addressed. They can trim away those leaves, and new shoots can grow, because at last they are talking without animosity and beginning to bond.

Trimming away a few leaves doesn't change the plant. Its base is still the same. They can't change or fix anything, but they can make what they have a little less messy.

Actually, I was originally going to have Wen Ning show Jiang Cheng how to prune the plant, and they would trim it together. Now I'm regretting not doing that lol.

Branding and Insignia

I'm just going to pull quotes for this one to show everything in one place. Half of these ideas came from my beta @lady-of-the-lotus.

He wonders if Wen Ning is trying to leave a mark of his own, to carve another scar, to sear a brand of the lost Wen Clan into his skin. (Chapter One)

Jiang Cheng thinks about receiving another permanent mark of the Wen Clan during the hate sex...

A pendant in the window casts a sun-shaped shadow on his face; a faint circle, spoked and distorted. He doesn’t look in the mirror again after that. (Chapter Two)

And the morning after, there's the mark of the Wen Clan, if only in his imagination. Yet another thing to haunt him.

Wen Ning saw. Saw the guqin brush, with its red handle, its black rim and golden tassel. The exact colors of the Wen insignia. (Chapter Two)

But by the end of that chapter, Jiang Cheng begins to empathize with Wen Ning and come to terms with his guilt, and he consciously selects a symbol of the Wen Clan to give to Lan Sizhui as a gift.

The design on the bottom of the cup has burned the red outline of a lotus flower into his skin. (Chapter Four)

By now, Jiang Cheng understands how much Wen Ning sacrificed and suffered, and he wishes he could take away the pain. He heals the burn wound, removing the brand of the Jiang Clan from Wen Ning's skin, and later thanks Wen Ning for saving his family.

As he follows the path of the veins, he realizes how endless they are. Jiang Cheng’s own scars have a clear start. A clear finish. Where does Wen Ning’s suffering end? (Chapter Four)

Wen Ning's black marks are the brand of death.

The rest of the scar/vein symbolism is pretty clear in the story, I think, so I won't discuss it much beyond that.

Kneeling and Parallels

Here's the physical "turn." I didn't intend for this to happen while writing, but it actually has a connection to a scene in CQL.

One of the most emotional scenes in The Untamed is in Episode 36, after Wei Wuxian pulls the nails out of Wen Ning's head to restore his consciousness. Wen Ning, overcome with guilt, kneels at Wei Wuxian's feet. Then Wei Wuxian kneels.

This is a beautiful moment in their relationship. Ningxian (you can interpret that romantically or platonically) always has this...slightly uncomfortable power dynamic? as much as I love them, but in that scene Wei Wuxian physically shows how much he appreciates Wen Ning. That he is sorry. That they are both indebted to each other, but the past wasn't Wen Ning's fault, and they are equals as they kneel in front of each other.

Back to Seven Nights, where there is a lot of kneeling going on, and the meanings are a bit similar.

This story was a challenge to tell mostly from Jiang Cheng's POV, because there is so much in Wen Ning's head that I couldn't put on the page since Jiang Cheng just doesn't know what he's thinking. The reader gets to learn about Wen Ning through Jiang Cheng's eyes, and speculate about the rest of what they don't learn.

But during the hate sex scene, it's significant that Wen Ning is the one kneeling. Despite how much resentment he holds toward Jiang Cheng, he still feels guilty! (He really isn't to blame, but he feels like he is.) He killed Jin Zixuan! That caused Wei Wuxian and Jiang Yanli to die! He's a corpse, what is he doing touching someone? Expecting that Jiang Cheng would've reached out to him to make peace? Wen Ning is very confused about how he feels about Jiang Cheng, has a complicated relationship with his own humanity and self-confidence, and that leaves him kneeling even when getting revenge.

There's also the attraction element, of course, the classic trope of "enemy sexy," but we're not talking about that right now lol

The next time somebody kneels, it's Jiang Cheng. His guilt toward Wen Ning used to do nothing but torment him. Now he is taking action, physically showing the change in their relationship, kneeling at Wen Ning's feet and healing his hand. The talismans and tea in the first chapter were nice (if misguided) gestures, but he didn't kneel to present those, did he? The sentiment in the first chapter is very different from his treatment of Wen Ning in the last chapter. He understands Wen Ning much better. Admits to himself that he cares about Wen Ning as a person. He's not just caught up in the concept of "unfinished business." He's not held back by his ego.

And then we come full circle, an inverse of the hate sex in the first chapter. This time Jiang Cheng drinks the tea, kneels, and gets to work. And Wen Ning orders him to, which I find very satisfying.

But once he finishes...Wen Ning kneels, too.

They go through both versions of the power structure, and by the end they are stripped, raw, honest, kneeling in front of each other and wrapped in each other's arms. They both had to knock down barriers to get to this point, and it broke them both a little in the process, but now they can start again and move on to something more hopeful.

Just to be clear, this was not planned from the beginning. Wen Ning was never even going to go to Lotus Pier. And once I decided to add that chapter, I only decided to add sex to it a week before posting. So this just kind of happened on its own.

...And I think that's it. I wish this story was longer lol. Seven Nights was supposed to be a 6k oneshot, turned into a near-30k multichap, and I still want to write more. T.T

I might post again about planning/conception for the fic, another diary entry so I don't forget what was going on in my head months or years later when I look back at this story. Idk. Anyway, thanks for reading!

[aquadrazi]

Find Someone to Carry You

Chapter 43

………Cloud Recesses………

Wen Ning told the story from his point of view, the parts that he could remember.  When he was finished Lan Xichen gestured for him to go sit at a table that had been set up off to the side.  “Thank you, Master Wen.”

“So how did Su She gain control?”

“I still can’t believe that Jin Guangshan was keeping a weapon like that under wraps.”

Masters Xiao and Song stepped forward and bowed.  “Sect Leader Lan, I believe I can offer further explanation.”

“Please, continue Master Xiao.”  Lan Xichen bowed to them.

“We were present at the interrogation of Xue Yang, before his death.  We can bear witness to the assertation that he was in possession of a shard of the Yin Iron, and had given it to Su She to use to take control of the fierce corpses.  Also, Master Song personally witnessed along with Senior Lan, Senior Fu, and several Juniors, Su She using a teleportation talisman to grab the Yin Iron shard from Xue Yang and escape with it, prior to the order for Sect Leader Jin’s assassination.”  Xiao Xingchen explained.

“I did it for HIM!”  Su She snarled.  “I wanted to prove to him that I wasn’t useless.  I’m just as good if not BETTER than Xue Yang.  Besides, killing off that little brat was in his best interests.  They were never going to accept him as a legitimate Sect Leader unless that kid was dead.”  Su She snapped.  “I’d done it before, in Qiongqi Pass, when he had me kill off his BROTHER.  I figured the son would be easier.”

“Er-ge, he’s lying.  You have to believe me.  He has every reason to lie about this.”  Jin Guangyao said smoothly to Lan Xichen.  “I had no idea that Jin Zixuan was going to be there that day.  I would have done everything I could to stop him if I had.”

“That’s a lie.”  Jin Zixuan said as he strode in.

Gasps and cries of shock rippled through the crowd.

Jin Zixuan bowed to Lan Xichen.  “If I may, Sect Leader Lan.”

Lan Xichen smiled and motioned for him to rise, “Please continue.”

Jin Zixuan smiled, unkindly to Jin Guangyao, then continued.  “My BROTHER came to me upset, saying that he had overheard of a plot to kill Wei Wuxian before he could make it to my son’s one month celebration.  He convinced me to go and try to stop it, to keep the peace for the sake of my wife.  So I did, but I was intercepted by Nie Huaisang himself on the way.  He told me there was in fact, a plot to kill Wei Wuxian, but also myself.  He had sent a double in my place.  THAT is who you killed in Qiongqi Pass that day.”

“I didn’t KNOW he was going to try to kill you too!  You have to believe me Gege, I couldn’t have KNOWN!”  Jin Guangyao started to beg, realizing the danger he was potentially in.  With the direct heir of the Jin Sect alive, he no longer had the most legitimate claim to leadership.

“But you DID know you were killing ME.”  Nie Mingjue growled as he entered the main hall.

Jin Guangyao shrieked and tried to scurry away from the sight of the large and imposing figure heading towards him, but Jin Zixuan stopped him.

‘How- how is it possible?”

“He died of Qi Deviation.”

“Is he a fierce corpse?”

“The only one who could do that was the Yiling Patriarch.”

“He’s dead.”

“We’ve thought a LOT of people were dead who apparently are not.”

“You were my sworn brother, and yet, at the orders of your father, you killed me.”  Nie Mingjue accused.

“No-no, it wasn’t me-I didn’t…I couldn’t-“

“Sect Leader Lan, if I may.” Master Xiao was bowing again.

“You may.” Lan Xichen nodded towards him.

“Xue Yang also spoke as to the incident involving Sect Leader Nie’s death.  He confirmed that it was ordered by Jin Guangshan, and carried out by Jin Guangyao.  He said Jin Guangshan was hoping to turn Nie Mingjue into a fierce corpse, and upon the Jin Sect Leader’s death, Jin Guangyao kept the body, hoping his consciousness could be brought back like Master Wen’s was.”

Before anyone could say anything else, Wen Qing entered the room.  She bowed to Sect Leader Lan, “If I may.”

“You may.” Lan Xichen smiled at her.

“Jin Guangshan and Jin Guangyao lied to all of you.  There was no intention to rid the world of demonic cultivation, quite the opposite.  Jin Guangshan craved the power it could give him.  He kept myself and my brother, and Wei Ying as prizes that he could use to further cultivate his own knowledge of the use of resentful energy.  I was rescued by Nie Huaisang shortly before my supposed death, however my brother and Wei Ying were kept at Koi Tower for years, in the pursuit of gaining more power for the Jin Sect.  The proof that my brother was being used as a tool is obvious.  He was sent as an assassin to kill Jin Ling.  We have already heard testimony corroborating the statement that Wei Ying was being held for his expertise in resentful energy cultivation.”

“It looks like he succeeded.”

“So it WAS the Yiling Patriarch who brought back Chifeng-Zun”

“Are they still holding him in Koi Tower?”

“Sect Leader Lan,  my uncle knew about the demonic cultivation. He participated in the experiments with my grandfather.”  Jin Ling bowed.

Jin Guangyao looked thoroughly flustered.  “You- there’s no way…”

“I followed you one day.  I saw you and grandfather with the screaming man, experimenting with demonic cultivation.”

“And do you know who this, screaming man, was?”  Lan Zhan asked quietly.

Jin Ling nodded.  “He was also the person kept in the main hall as the Koi Tower Sex Slave.”

There was an uproar from the crowd.

“Wait, did he just say…”

“The Yiling Patriarch was ALSO the-“

“I can’t believe this.”

“The depravity”

“He should have been killed”

“-too dangerous to keep around”

“SILENCE!!!!” Lan Qiren bellowed, hushing the crowd once again.

“So, if I am to get this straight, Jin Guangshan ordered his son, Jin Guangyao to kill Chifeng-Zun, so he could have Wei Wuxian, someone he was keeping captive rather than having killed like he had said, turn him into a fierce corpse.  He was ALSO keeping Wen Ning to use as a weapon, even though he had said he had performed that execution as well.”

“And Jin Guangyao, sent Jin Zixuan to his death, and upon gaining control of the Jin Sect, he was using Wei Wuxian to try to find a way to return Chifeng-Zun’s consciousness.”

“And Su She took it upon himself to take the Yin Iron shard and use Wen Ning to assassinate Jin Ling, so Jin Guangyao could officially take control of the Jin Sect.  This is after he used it to take control of the fierce corpses from Wei Wuxian during the Qiongqi Pass AND the Bloodbath at the Nightless City.”

“Meaning, the real villain in all of this was Su She, and by proxy Jin Guangshan and Jin Guangyao, not Wei Wuxian.”  Lan Xichen stared directly at Jin Guangyao as he said the last part.

“No!  No.  It isn’t true.  I’m being set up!  The Yiling Patriarch is DEAD!  I saw it myself!  I SAW THE BURNED BODY MYSELF!”  Jin Guangyao was becoming unhinged.

The door to the main hall opened and in walked Wei Wuxian, holding onto Jiang Yanli’s arm to steady himself.  They were followed by a trail of Juniors, in two neat rows.  The sight of him in robes bearing the Cloud Recesses motif, and with the Lan Sect Ribbon prominently displayed on his forehead had the room in an uproar.

“THERE WILL BE SILENCE”  Lan Qiren bellowed again.

“Are you sure of what you saw, Jin Guangyao?”  Lan Xichen asked in a mocking way.

The Juniors formed a protective line between Wei Wuxian and the crowd.  They bowed in unison along with Wei Wuxian and Jiang Yanli to Lan Xichen.

“This one would like to give testimony.”  Wei Wuxian said in an uncharacteristically quiet voice.

“Please proceed, Didi.” Lan Xichen smiled warmly at him.  The familiar way he replied to Wei Wuxian causing a gasp to ripple through the crowd.

“Replying to the Qiongqi Pass ambush.  I could feel myself losing control of Wen Ning.  I did not intend to kill Jin Zixuan, I was trying to get him to leave so he wouldn’t be caught by any of the arrows and before I knew it, Wen Ning had killed him.  Or so I thought.”  He added, looking over at Jin Zixuan, very much alive.

“Replying to the Bloodbath at the Nightless City.  I knew I was fighting another demonic cultivator.  It was taking so much energy to try to maintain control of my corpses that I was distracted.  When my Shijie… well, I lost all control after that.  I am truly sorry for what my corpses did.  I was not in my right mind.”

“It is true that I did not die during the Siege of the Burial Mounds.  Jin Guangshan sent Xue Yang and Jin Zixun to…convince me…to turn Chifeng-Zun into a fierce corpse for him.  I refused.  It is true that I became what you all refer to as the Koi Tower Sex Slave.  It is my understanding that Sect Leader Nie found me and brought me to the Nie Compound to…recover.  That is where I, along with some help, was able to return Chifeng-Zun’s consciousness to his body.”

“Thank you, Didi.”  Lan Xichen said warmly, bowing to him.

Jiang Yanli helped Wei Wuxian exit the room after he bowed formally to both Sect Leader Lan, and the crowd of cultivators.  They were followed by the line of Juniors.  Before the doors were shut the room erupted in chaos.

The Juniors came back into the room in time to stop Jin Guangyao from running out.  Lan Jingyi managed to get him by the scruff of the neck and dragged him back to the center of the floor.  Lan Xichen launched himself from where he had been sitting onto the floor and joined the fray.

The crowd was quickly splitting into two groups.  One group against Wei Wuxian, and the other was apparently defending Wei Wuxian.  Lan Xichen caught the glint of a fan flying towards him out of the corner of his eye and spun just in time to see it deflect a blade that was heading towards him, then return to Nie Huaisang.  He nodded his thanks and continued into the fight.

Once the Nie guards entered the fight ended quickly.  Lan Xichen pulled out his xiao and pulled all the spiritual weapons to the ceiling, and allowed Nie Huaisang to pull out the people on his list from the crowd.  He divided them into the two groups, the people with stars next to their names were placed off to the side under guard.  Lan Xichen released the spiritual weapons.

“Now THAT’S out of everyone’s system,” Lan Xichen chided as he went back to his spot at the head of the room.  He motioned for the guards to place the people who were pulled out on their knees.  “You all have been found to have visited the Koi Tower Sex Slave.  You have committed a reprehensible act against a member of the Lan Sect.  As such, you will be punished by Lan Sect rules.”

Lan Xichen went down the line and asked each one how many times they visited Wei Wuxian when he was held prisoner.  Nie Huaisang took notes and handed it back to Lan Xichen when he was finished.  “All of you will be expelled from your parent Sects, and will not be welcome in any cultivation Sect from this day forward.  Furthermore, each one of you will receive a strike from the discipline whip for every time you violated a member of the Lan Sect.  The punishment will be carried out tomorrow morning, after breakfast.”

Lan Xichen waived his hand and the Nie Guards took away the group in the center.  They were replaced by the group that had stars next to their names.  “You all will be taken back to the Nie Stronghold for further interrogation to ascertain the extent that you were involved in the capture, torture, and violation of a Lan Sect member.”  Lan Xichen waved his hand and the group was taken away by the Nie Guards.  Jin Guangyao fought and screamed the entire way out of the Main Hall.

“Now, does anyone else have a problem with Wei Wuxian?  Let’s hear in now.”  Lan Xichen was clearly out of patience.

Lan Zhan heard Wei Ying playing WangXian as he walked up to the Jingshi.  Wei Ying was standing on the porch, his hair and ribbons blowing gently in the wind.  He stood for a minute, drinking in the sight of his husband, standing on the porch of their house, dressed in Lan Sect robes, playing their song.  Wei Ying turned and a wide grin spread across his face when he saw Lan Zhan.

“Missed you.” Wei Ying said as he tucked Chenqing in his waist band.

Lan Zhan pulled Wei Ying into a deep kiss.  “Wei Ying looks good in his new robes.”  He hummed. He hiked Wei Ying up onto his hips and Wei Ying wrapped his legs around Lan Zhan’s waist and his arms around his neck.  They continued to devour each other’s mouths as Lan Zhan carried him into the Jingshi.

[mdzsgildedfate]

Gilded Fate - Chapter 9

Reincarnation AU [Chapter 9/?] Characters: Xue Yang, Xiao Xingchen, Song Lan, Lan Sizhui, Lan Jingyi, Jin Ling, Original Characters. Pairings: Xue Yang/Xiao Xingchen, Song Lan/Xiao Xingchen, Lan Sizhui/Lan Jingyi, Xue Yang/OC

Is it morning already…? I need to make breakfast…

But Xingchen feels so warm… I don’t want to get up…

How late is it?

A-Qing will complain…

Xinyi opened his eyes slowly, confused to find that the room he was in was not the coffin house, and that the person he was draped over was not Xiao Xingchen. Blinking a few times, the dream quickly disappeared from his mind and he remembered where he was. Careful not to wake Chen, Xinyi slipped out from under the covers and crawled across the room to look for his robes. After looking through his pile of clothes two or three times, he finally remembered his own robes were still in Xiao Xingchen’s room.

Pulling the borrowed grey robes back on, Xinyi stepped out of the room and headed towards the courtyard. The memory of last night was muddled, the details refusing to return no matter how hard Xinyi tried. He couldn’t remember whether or not he was the one to initiate the kiss with Chen. The only thing he could remember clearly was the face of the mutilated ghost who’d chased him into Chen’s arms to begin with.

“I must really be out of my mind.” Xinyi muttered to himself, wiping the sweat from his forehead. “What am I supposed to say to him? He’s gonna hate me no matter what.”

Although it had slowed to a lazy drizzle, the rain from last night still hadn’t stopped. In the blue dawn light, only one figure could be seen standing out in the courtyard. Smiling Ghost paced slowly around the wet stonework, seeming to follow no particular path. Xinyi watched her for a few minutes, mesmerized by her aimless wandering and how her robes billowed around as though she were underwater.

Not wanting to wait around too long and risk her noticing him, Xinyi turned around and headed back into the temple. Going back to his room and facing Chen was equally unappealing, so he let his feet lead him up and down random hallways with no direction in mind. Not long into his walk, he halted at the sound of hushed, urgent voices coming from around the next corner.

“Did you find him?”

“No, he’s not in the kitchen either. Did you find Xiao Xingchen?”

“He doesn’t know where he is either.”

“So he’s definitely not in the temple then? Why would he leave without saying anything?”

Xinyi inched along the wall to the corner and peaked around, spotting Sizhui and Jingyi a few yards down.

“I’m sure it’s fine. He probably just needs a break from being around Xinyi so much.”

A break from being around me?

“You’re probably right. Jin Ling seemed so concerned about it, though.”

“Jin Ling always sounds like that. Xingchen wasn’t worried, so I don’t think we should be.”

Xinyi turned around and left the conversation behind. Nothing else made sense since arriving at the temple, he wasn’t about to let one weird comment detract from the most important thing- Song Lan wasn’t around to glare at him. If little victories were all he got now, Xinyi would take them when they came.

During breakfast, Chen had the good sense not to bring up the events of the previous night. They ate together quietly, as though nothing unusual had happened. Even as the idle chatter started to pick up, Chen spoke with a relaxed smile and a calm demeanour. Xinyi was starting to feel at ease, not even finding the will to care when Song Lan did finally enter the room. The dark robes drifted by his peripheral, but he didn’t bother to even glance over.

Xinyi’s attention drifted around the room, pausing to listen to various conversations or watch as students mingled around. As his eyes scanned over the professors at the head of the table, he noticed how none of the apprehension from earlier had dissipated from their demeanours. Only then did he realize the figure he’d assumed was Song Lan had never actually sat down.

Finally looking directly at the figure, he could see the black robes didn’t belong to Song Lan, but to a woman with kind features, lined softly with age and weariness. A small smile appeared on her face when he looked at her, though her eyes seemed full of sadness. While the other ghosts Xinyi had seen up until now filled him with some looming dread, he felt a strange sense of relief and familiarity at her presence.

The woman held his gaze, and her sad smile, for a few heartbeats before slowly trailing around the edge of the room. At the door, she paused and looked at him again as though beckoning him to follow. Xinyi looked around and quietly excused himself from the table, following her out into the hall. She walked a good distance from the dining hall before stopping to wait for him, partially hidden in the shadows.

Xinyi approached slowly, unsure of what to expect. “Wh-... Who are you?”

The hair on the back of his neck stood up. Never before had he directly addressed any of the other ghosts like this. It felt completely counterintuitive, but the compulsion to talk to her was overwhelming.

She sighed softly, looking him over. “A-Yang…”

The sound of her voice sent a chill throughout his entire body. “M-Mom…?”

How was that possible? His mom was a pale woman with chin-length, brown hair and sharp features. The woman in front of him had dark skin and long, black hair. Her features were soft and inviting and downright motherly. Most importantly, his mom was very much not dead.

“Oh, A-Yang…” The woman took a step forward, reaching her hand out to him. “My son…”

Xinyi mirrored her movements, stepping closer with one outstretched hand. “Mom…”

The tips of their fingers touched and Xinyi recoiled slightly, surprised to find that the woman had a solid form. Nothing about her indicated that she was a ghost- She bore no injuries, her skin had colour to it, and her touch was tangible and warm. With both of their hands now clasped together, tears spilled out over her cheeks and dripped from her chin.

“A-Yang… How long I’ve waited to see you…” Her shoulders shook gently.

Xinyi’s breath hitched in his chest and tears stung in his eyes. Consciously, he knew this woman was a stranger, but every fiber of his being was screaming that this was his mother, without a shadow of doubt. When she lifted a hand to his cheek, he leaned into the touch with a stuttered breath. Feeling no longer in control of his own actions. Xinyi wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her neck.

The woman didn’t hesitant to hug him back, holding him tight against her. “Oh, my dear. My A-Yang… What luck I had as a mother…”

His heart skipped painfully and tears broke out as he spoke. “I missed you...”

She pulled back just enough to look at his face, the smile having disappeared from her face. “What sin did I commit to have such a wicked child?”

“Wh-what?”

She stroked a hand over his hair, smoothing out the flyaway strands. “How was I ever supposed to love a son like you?”

“What do you mean-? I don’t understand… I-”

“If I had known how you’d turn out…” She pulled away from him, sorrow overtaking her expression. “...I would have drowned you in a river as soon as you were born.”

The comments made no sense to him- this ghost made no sense to him- but that didn’t stop the feeling that his soul was being ripped from his body. Sobs racking his body, Xinyi reached out desperately, only for his hand to now pass right through her. The more he cried out apologies and begged her to stay, the more transparent her form became. When she disappeared completely, he fell to his knees, crumpled over himself on the floor. After a few minutes, the feeling suddenly disappeared.

As though the ghostly encounter had never happened, Xinyi wiped the tears from his face and stood up. Looking up and down the hall, he was relieved to see no one else had come out of the dining hall. Before that had a chance to happen, Xinyi hurried down the hall out to the courtyard to cool off. The second he was outside, the sweat on his body instantly turned to ice against his skin. He took a deep breath of the cool air and scrubbed at his face with his sleeve, trying to make sense of what just happened.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Xinyi turned around to see Xiao Xingchen standing a ways back. “Hilarious.”

Xingchen smiled, a small chuckle shaking his shoulders. “Do you want your clothes back? Or will you wear those again?”

He followed the man back to his room, trying to memorize the route this time. Once they were back, Xingchen opened his trunk again to retrieve the robes and handed them back. On top of the neatly folded pile was some golden trinket that shined under the light from the window.

“What’s this?” He asked, holding it up to inspect it.

“A gift.” Xingchen replied, watching him carefully. “Since you gave me one, I thought it’d be appropriate if I returned the favour.”

Setting the pile down on the bed, Xinyi slipped out of the borrowed robes. “You didn’t need to, you know, and this… looks expensive.”

Xingchen helped him back into the white uniform, tying the robes in place with expert hands. “It’s not. Besides, your hair is always falling out, you need something to hold it in place.”

Xinyi laughed, turning around to face Xingchen with the trinket in his hand. “Right, for the last two days I’m here?”

The man laughed and reached up to fix Xinyi’s hair. “I wanted to give it to you sooner... “

Once his hair was tied back in place, Xingchen took the ornament and fixed it to the top of Xinyi’s head. Stepping back to examine his work, his expression faltered for a moment, as though he wasn’t entirely satisfied with what he was looking at. After a moment, he swallowed and looked away, letting the smile return to his face.

“Xiao Xingchen.”

He looked back up, not quite meeting Xinyi’s eyes.

“Tell me honestly...You know what’s happening to me, don’t you?” Xinyi stepped forward, cocking his head to try to catch Xingchen’s gaze. “You said before, the ghosts I’m seeing are attached to the objects here. Is that true? Will I stop seeing them when I leave?”

Xingchen was quiet for a moment, seeming hesitant to answer Xinyi’s questions. “That’s a difficult line of questioning to answer.”

Xinyi frowned and grabbed Xingchen’s hand. “You do know the answers though.”

“Yes.”

“But you won’t tell me…”

Xingchen took Xinyi’s other hand and sighed quietly. “No… I don’t think I should be the one to tell you… I don’t think I should even be around when it happens.”

Xinyi stepped forward and put his forehead against the man’s shoulder, letting his eyes slide shut. He felt Xingchen let go of his hands, quickly wrapping his arms around him in a tight embrace. No matter how badly he wanted to keep pressing the man with questions, he knew there was no point. He held on for a moment longer, letting himself simply enjoy Xingchen’s warmth, before moving to pull away.

Only managing to move a few inches back, Xingchen’s grasp tightened, holding him in place. He met Xinyi’s eyes finally, looking at him with a strange intensity.

“I’m sorry.” He said after a long pause.

Xinyi shook his head. “It’s fine…”

Xingchen pressed his forehead to Xinyi’s, lingering as though he was considering saying something more, before placing a soft kiss against his lips. Unlike the kiss in the river, this one wasn’t quickly cut short. Xingchen paused, momentarily hesitating, and then pressed in again with a sharp inhale. Xinyi clenched his hands around the fabric of Xingchen’s clothes, refusing to let go of him this time.

The knowledge that they’d only met a few days prior completely melted from Xinyi’s mind. Something about the kiss felt achingly familiar and sorely missed. Before he knew it, Xinyi had one arm wrapped tight around Xingchen’s shoulders and the other hand tangled in his hair. Both of Xingchen’s arms were wrapped around Xinyi’s waist, with one hand between his shoulder blades and the other at the very bottom of his lower back. The intense line of questioning from only seconds ago was quickly lost in a heat of heavy breathing and wandering hands.

Locked against each other, Xinyi stumbled back, losing his balance and bringing them both down against the bed. Xingchen broke away and stared down at Xinyi breathlessly, half-kneeling half-laying on top of him. Bringing one knee up, Xinyi pushed his thigh up between Xingchen’s legs and pulled on the collar of his robes, trying to urge the man back into the kiss. Xingchen’s eyes fluttered momentarily before he let out a breath and pulled away completely to stand up.

“Xingchen?” Xinyi questioned, unable to hide the disappointment on his face.

The man turned away, flattening out his robes. “I’m sorry. We… We shouldn’t be doing that.”

He stood back up, feeling a twinge of frustration. “What do you mean, you kissed me.”

“I know.” Xingchen looked down at the floor, a strange expression on his face. “I’m sorry, but I shouldn’t have.”

Frustration turned to hurt. Xinyi balled his hands into fists, feeling his nails cut into his palms.

“Why do you keep doing this to me?” He snapped out suddenly, feeling his eyes sting again. “You keep acting like you like me- like you care about me, but-... but why? Watching me struggle like this- Is this fun for you?!”

Xingchen gaped at him, shocked. “I-... Xinyi, that’s not-...”

“Forget it.”

Without another word, he walked out of the room and disappeared down the hall. Quickly retracing his steps, Xinyi went back to his room and threw himself down on his bed, covering his head with his pillow. It was a long time before anyone else came into the room, breaking the silence that had enveloped him. When he felt someone lay down beside him, Xinyi scrunched the pillow down harder, assuming Xingchen had followed him.

When the person didn’t say anything, he lifted the pillow up just enough to see Chen’s face staring back at him.

“You ok?” Chen asked softly, looking him over.

“I’m fine.” Xinyi replied, relaxing his grip on the pillow.

Chen pushed the pillow off him and held a hand against Xinyi’s forehead. “You’re really warm.”

“Is that your version of flirting?”

He took his hand back, looking a little guilty. “N-No… Sorry, that’s not- I just meant that you look sick.”

Xinyi put his own hand to his face, feeling a sheen of sweat on his forehead. “Mm. It’s probably just a cold from being in the river so much. It’s fine.”

Chen frowned. “Maybe… Sizhui Jiaoshou sent me to come get you, we’re supposed to go on some day hike around the mountain… But if you’re sick, you should stay here and rest.”

“I feel fine.” He sat up, shaking his head. “I don’t wanna stay here by myself.”

Ignoring Chen’s protests, Xinyi stood up and brushed himself off, flattening down his robes. Once Chen was on his feet too, he led the way out to where everyone else was waiting in the courtyard. Quickly catching up to QianHua, he gave Sizhui a wave and fell in with the rest of the group. Sizhui and Jingyi took up the head of the group and led them away from the temple, following the river path south, deeper into the valley.

“What’s up with the fancy jewelry?” QianHua asked as soon as they started walking.

“Jewelry?” Xinyi gave him a confused look.

“Yeah, that!” QianHua reached up and tapped on the ornament in his hair.

“Oh, right.” With his emotions running high, he’d completely forgotten about Xingchen’s gift. “Xingchen lent it to me when I went to get my clothes back from him. He said my hair kept falling out without it.”

“You too sure seem to be sharing a lot of clothes lately.” The other man joked, winking at Xinyi.

Xinyi rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the trail, not wanting to think about Xingchen right now. Everyone else quickly fell silent as well as they trekked on down the path, too out of breath from the incline to chatter amongst themselves. By the time they stopped for their first break, the beaten path had long since disappeared, leaving them to rest wherever they could find space. All at once, there were students scattered across the ground, seated on rocks and leaning against trees.

Slumped with his back against Chen’s shoulder, Xinyi scanned his eyes over the group as he unscrewed the top of his water bottle. He took a few gulps, replaced the lid, and wiped a layer of sweat from his face.

Maybe I really am getting sick...

Huh, Song Lan isn’t here…? Did he still not come back…?

...No ghosts out here so far...

Maybe they really will disappear when I leave…

Xinyi thought about it for a minute and then frowned.

If that were true, Xingchen would have just said so.

Frustration was itching throughout his entire body, like ants under his skin. Xingchen had always been a little mysterious, but to outright refuse to tell him pertinent information about what was plaguing him... Xinyi shook his head and stood up, handing his water bottle to Chen.

“I’ll be right back.”

Chen started to stand, but Xinyi waved his hand at him.

“I don’t need help to take a piss.”

“Oh. Fair enough. Just be careful.”

Well past the point of which Xinyi stopped hearing the voices from the group, he continued down the gentle slope into the thicket of bushes. Whispers had begun picking up around him, albeit quiet enough that he hadn’t noticed them at first, but persistent enough to trigger a trill of anxiety. Finishing his business quickly, Xinyi turned to head back, coming to a stop almost immediately.

Circling around a cluster of trees, Smiling Ghost came into view a few yards up the hill. She looked at him curiously, her usual smile barely a whisper on her lips now. Xinyi stared back at her, feeling all the frustration of the day resurge. Contrary to his usual instinct when it came to dealing with the ghosts, Xinyi balled up his fists and walked right up to her.

“What do you want from me??” He snapped, struggling to keep from yelling. “You’re always following me around but you never say shit! Just get it over with already! Accuse me of killing you! Call me a monster! Just say something and quit following me around!”

She frowned and let her eyes lower to the ground.

“Everyone has so much to say, but no one has the balls to actually say it to my face. Is that gonna be you too?” Xinyi took another step closer. “Tell me why you’re here!”

Slowly bringing her gaze back up, she looked at Xinyi and silently mouthed something. His eyes widened, surprised that she actually responded to him. Tentatively, Xinyi reached a hand up and brushed his fingers against the fabric of her sleeve, curious to see if they’d pass through her or hit a solid form. When they did indeed pass through her, he recoiled his hand and looked back up at her face.

“Who are you?”

A small smile returned to her face.

“Say something!”

Her lips moved again, still no sound coming forth. He narrowed his eyes, watching carefully, trying to decipher what she was saying. Before he had a chance to ask anything else, the sound of leaves crunching rang out behind him. Smiling Ghost looked past him, looking equally alarmed, and vanished. With a string of curses, Xinyi spun around to see what had disrupted his interrogation.

Surprised to see a human figure moving between the trees, a sudden sense of fear fell over him. Quickly ducking out of sight, Xinyi peeked out just enough to see what was happening. The forest fell quiet and still, anxious anticipation pounding in his ears the longer it went on, before MingYue and her husky suddenly came out from a tangle of vines and fallen branches. He held his breath and watched on as she walked past his hiding spot, back up the hill towards where the rest of the class was resting.

Once Xinyi was sure she was far enough away, he let out the breath and stood up. A hundred questions had appeared in his brain, urging him to inspect the area MingYue had appeared. With that dog with her, why hadn’t he heard them coming? Why had Smiling Ghost seemed so alarmed? Why did the air suddenly smell like smoke? The rest of the area looked completely undisturbed, as though MingYue had really materialized out of thin air.

Xinyi paused, putting a halt to the onslaught of questions. Why should I care about this?

Is this really the weirdest thing going on here?

Fuck this. I’m not wasting time on this.

Quickly making up his mind, Xinyi retraced his steps up the hill and returned to the group. Everyone else was already on their feet, idling about as they waited for Sizhui to lead them forward. Chen and QianHua met him with a relieved look, as though they were worried he wouldn’t make it back before they left. He wiped a layer of sweat from his face and fell into step beside them, letting the swirl of thoughts dissipate from his brain.

The hike carried on through the valley, pausing one more time before they reached a pond where the river came to an end. Sizhui and Jingyi announced a lunch break and everyone broke into joyful chatter, instantly making themselves at home around the water. Before long, half of the students had shed the outer layers of their robes and plunged into the pool. QianHua and Chen followed suit, dragging Xinyi along behind them.

They all stripped down and, with a moment of consideration, Xinyi removed the ornament from his hair, dropping it unceremoniously into the pile of robes on the ground. He waded around the shore to sit on a rock jutting out from the pond, letting just the bottom half of his legs hang in the water. Chen came to sit beside him, abandoning QianHua to rough-house with another group in deeper waters.

“Are you feeling ok?” Chen asked quietly, putting the back of his hand to Xinyi’s forehead again.

“I’ll be fine. I am starting to get tired, though.” He replied, closing his eyes at the touch.

Chen smiled and ran his hand over Xinyi’s hair, tussling out the parts still holding together from the ornament. Xinyi matched the smile, grateful for the moment of normalcy. Xiao Xingchen was mysterious and exciting, but after everything that had happened the past few days, Xinyi was glad to be with something who made the ghosts feel less real.

~X~

Even though Xingchen had seemed unbothered by Song Lan’s sudden disappearance. Jin Ling couldn’t shake the anxiety festering in his gut. It very well may be normal for the man to wander away from the temple, but with the presence of demonic cultivation in the valley, he was becoming increasingly worried for the two fierce corpses. The only small relief he got was when MingYue returned from walking Gongzhu and could see that his spiritual dog was still at ease.

As the group settled down for lunch, Jin Ling allowed himself a brief moment to forget his worries. With Gongzhu napping in a patch of sunlight, and MingYue leaning on his shoulder, he ate his meal in peace. Sizhui and Jingyi’s soft voices beside him relaxed the tension in his neck, settling the quiet sense of loneliness he’d felt without them. Even the noisy presence of the other students around the pond didn’t irritate him like it usually would.

Between the warm weather, melodic song birds, and good company, it was admittedly difficult for Jin Ling to finally tear himself away from the scene. He allowed himself a few minutes after he finished eating to relax, and then gently pushed MingYue away so he could stand. A quick word of departure to her and the two Lans, Jin Ling called Gongzhu to his side and disappeared into the trees.

Following the path from memory, the Jin cultivator returned to the entrance of the cave filled with corpses. He watched Gongzhu carefully as they approached the opening, looking to her for any warning that the situation under the ground had worsened. Gongzhu trotted along beside him, panting contentedly as though they were on a leisurely walk. Once they reached the cave, the reason for the dog’s relaxed conduct became apparent. Whereas yesterday, the cave’s opening had been heavily decorated in camouflage talismans, there were now none. Jin Ling frowned, feeling all tension return to his neck.

Tying a robe to a nearby tree, Jin Ling careened down into the cave. As soon as his feet hit the ground, he walked straight to the tunnel and waded into the river. With a flame talisman lit, he quickly returned to the cavern that had previously held two dozen corpses; and just as expected, the room was now completely empty, cleared out of all evidence that anyone had been here. He swore loudly, kicking the nearest rock and sending it ricocheting against the far wall.

Jin Ling reached into his sleeve and pulled out Wei Wuxian’s compass. The needle spun around slowly, never pausing or jerking to spin in the other direction, indicating that whatever Yin energy had existed until now had disappeared. He slammed it shut and dropped it back into his sleeve, putting his hands on his hips and walking aimlessly about the cavern while he pondered the situation. Without the corpses in the cave, the only evidence he now had was the one walking corpse and singular iron nail he’d stashed away.

If I’d known the necromancer would cover his tracks so quickly, I would’ve taken one of the camouflage talismans as well… What the fuck am I supposed to do now? This was my one lead and now… Nothing!

Swearing loudly, he waded back through the river to the main cavern. The cave was giving away no new secrets or hints, so there was no point in hanging around. He climbed back up the rope and packed it away into his qiankun pouch. After confirming no scraps of evidence had been overlooked or forgotten in the area surrounding the cave opening, Jin Ling returned to the pond.

“Sizhui. Jingyi. Come here.” Jin Ling tapped each of their shoulders and gestured for them to follow as he moved out of earshot of the students.

“Rulan.” Jingyi replied, matching Jin Ling’s formal tone.

Jin Ling turned to face them, hands folded behind his back. “I didn’t want to say anything and add to your worries, when Wang Xinyi was a more pressing issue…”

“But?” Sizhui’s brows were already upturned with concern.

“The Yin energy I’ve been investigating in the valley.” Jin Ling spoke in a low, curt voice. “Yesterday, I found a cave nearby that was full of corpses, obscured by camouflage talismans.”

Sizhui and Jingyi exchanged bemused looks.

Jin Ling pulled the qiankun pouch from his sleeve and fished out the iron nail. “Each of the corpses had one of these inserted into their skulls.”

Sizhui took the nail, looking it over quickly, pausing when he spotted the sigil on its head.

“I was there just now, and everything’s been removed. Whoever was using the cave cleared it out after I found it.”

“Wait. Is this why you were so worried about Song Lan-?” Jingyi started, his eyes growing wide.

“Exactly. If there’s a necromancer in the valley, Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen are both at risk of being manipulated.” Jin Ling took the nail back and hid it away again. “How is Xinyi?”

Sizhui glanced back through the trees to the group, chewing his lip anxiously. “His energy is more unstable today, but he’s still behaving normally. I think the situation with him is less pressing in comparison.”

Jin Ling nodded. “Let’s head back to the temple. We’ll need to tell Xiao Xingchen about this as soon as possible.”

[grapefruitsketches]

Untamed Spring Fest 2020 - Days 24-30: Chapter 3, Nest, Part I (Day 26)

Part of my Songxiao post-canon fix-it fic series:

XXC Prequel | SL Prequel | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

Also available AO3 (I finally remembered to post first so I can add the link here): link

2,824 Words

Chapter 3: Xiao Xingchen awakens to a sudden sound.

A quiet hillside. A light rain. A familiar taste of sesame which he delicately licked off his fingers. Brushing Zichen’s hand as they both reached for the fruit laid out on the blanket at the same time.

A shout, and Xingchen snapped into consciousness. He was in a bed. His bed. His bed in the Cloud Recesses guest house.

“Mmn, Zichen?” Xiao Xingchen pushed himself up to sit up on the bed and rubbed his temples, trying to wake himself up. As the fog of sleep left him, he was able to register what exactly had woken him, and cut himself off mid yawn, jolted into high alert. A shout? In Cloud Recesses? He patted the around next to him. First close, then, further from his side, becoming more and more desperate. He found only empty space. No Zichen.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stumbled, legs still asleep even if his mind was wide awake, towards the far side of the room, where he kept Shuanghua. He longed for the days he could comfortably sleep with Shuanghua within arm’s reach, but the first (and only) time he had tried to since his reawakening, he had been unable to sleep, kept awake by images of unconsciously reaching for it in the night. Swinging it. Zichen once again becoming its innocent victim. He had remained stiffly awake for the better part of an hour, exhausted, frustrated, until he had finally given up and moved the sword to its new resting place. A place that now seemed foolishly far from where he slept. He chastised himself for his own weaknesses, leaving him less able to protect himself, find Zichen, because of his own fears and lack of control.

Traversing the room seemed like it took an eternity, his ears still straining for any hint of what that shout had been, where Zichen was, but only catching a faint rustle of wind as it caught the branches outside. He finally reached the sword. Even now, though, he found himself unable to pull the sword from its sheath, not trusting it or himself to correctly identify a threat. Not until he knew where Zichen was. Despite this, his hand still gripped the hilt firmly.

What time was it? It was not a morning where they had Inquiry lessons, Xingchen knew. Was it a day when Zichen had guqin lessons without him? Had he gone to library to read poetry, as he had taken to doing recently? Those days when all he did was practice scales, precision, dexterity, no hint of the language Xingchen would one day understand? Leaving the room so as to let Xingchen sleep in, as he worked to extinguish the exhaustion that had haunted him since he reawakened? That would explain Zichen’s absence, but he usually at least woke Xingchen up to say goodbye before he…

The sound of the door sliding open, footsteps, and it slid closed again. Xingchen focused on the sword’s hilt, ready to draw but not wanting to until he was absolutely sure whoever (whatever?) entered was a foe, not a friend.

“Who is it?” he sounded far more confident, stern, than he felt. He was rattled. His voice was able to resist any effect, it seemed, but he received no answer.

The door slid open once more. Another sound of footsteps, Xingchen started to pull the sword from its sheath, not far, just enough to shorten the time it would take to free it, to swing it at any danger in one fluid motion. The shaking in his hands became apparent as the loosened sword struck the sides of its sheath, though it wasn’t clear whether the hand holding the sword or the sheath was more at fault. Memories of the last times it had been drawn. Against him, against Zichen. He shook his head. If Zichen was in trouble, he would get over that, he would draw the sword again, he just had to be sure that that was truly what was going…

“Xiao-xiong!” the voice was loud, urgent but cautious.

Xiao Xingchen huffed out a relieved breath, with several more breaths following in rapid succession. It was the unmistakeable sound of Wei Wuxian’s voice. He let Shuanghua fall comfortably, innocently, back into its sheath and dropped it, the sound of the sword clattering to the floor loud in the room’s quiet. Two hands met his now sagging shoulders as he caught his breath, boosting him so that strong arms could wrap around his chest. Xingchen let himself lean into them.

“Zichen,” he sighed, able to recognize the shape of this embrace anywhere.

“Wei-gongzi,” Xingchen added, panting, grateful for Zichen’s support, “I am sorry for… the disturbance.” He was ashamed to think of what Wei Wuxian must have walked into - Xiao Xingchen, poised to strike, (lethal) sword half-drawn, no threat in sight. And… had that been Zichen who had walked in at first? Had Zichen once again been met with the sight of the man who supposedly loved him prepared to attack, without any way to safely and vocally reassure him that he was no enemy?

“Xiao-xiong…” the sound of Wei Wuxian’s voice came again, still from the opposite side of the room, near the door, softer, apologetic, “I’m sorry we woke you - Song-xiong tried to quiet them in time but…”

“It’s… fine.” Xingchen replied, his heart pounding from the whiplash. Zichen was here, he was ok. No need for a sword. They were both safe, he swallowed, turning his face towards the sound of Wei Wuxian’s voice, “Who was it you were trying to quiet?” he was grateful that he was able to keep his voice mostly to its usual even cadence. Zichen didn’t resist as Xingchen lightly pulled away, gently releasing of Xingchen from his grip, apparently satisfied that Xingchen was now able to stand independently. There was a light caress, Zichen’s hand on his cheek, before Zichen’s hand dropped, reaching instead for one of Xingchen’s hands. The added comfort of fingers interlaced, palms touching, calmed his heart.

Xiao Xingchen thought he detected a smile in Wei Wuxian’s voice as he replied, “The shout was because Jin Ling and Ouyang Zizhen just arrived. Jingyi couldn’t contain himself.”

Xingchen nodded, “I am sorry to have interrupted their reunion.” His mouth was dry, his relief had become pure embarrassment at having overreacted so severely to an excited childish shriek. He displayed nothing more than his usual reserved smile, however.

Song Zichen squeezed his hand before letting go entirely. Xingchen heard the shuffle of papers, the gliding of a brush across a page.

Wei Wuxian read Zichen’s message aloud, “They should have known better, not to shout in Cloud Recesses. It’s not your fault. I am sorry you didn’t get the chance to sleep.”

Wei Wuxian added, “Song-xiong is right, you know. Jingyi’s just lucky he’s growing up now and not twenty years ago when the punishment would have been… more severe.” Wei Wuxian chuckled darkly.

Xiao Xingchen nodded, familiar with the Lan clan’s disciplinary reputation. “Jin Ling is… the Jin Clan Leader now?” he said slowly, trying to remember Zichen’s thorough briefing on current affairs through Sizhui’s patient voice, “And Ouyang Zizhen is… I’m sorry, I don’t remember that name.”

Wei Wuxian laughed, “Don’t worry about it. For all intents and purposes, right now all either of them are treated as here are as Jingyi and Sizhui’s close friends…”

He was cut off by a wail at the door, “Gentle Breeze!” an unfamiliar, sobbing voice shouted, in open defiance of any of the Cloud Recesses’ noise restrictions, “You’re a-a-alive!”

A pile of voice fell in after the sobs.

“I’m so sorry for the intrusion-“ Sizhui’s voice.

“Hey! You can’t just go bursting in on-” a second unfamiliar voice said, huffily.

“You’re one to talk. What if you had woken Xiao-xiong just now?” Xingchen knew that to be Jingyi.

“Shut up, you were the one shouting not two minutes ago even after Song-xiong-!” the huffy voice retorted.

A sharp exhale escaped from Xingchen, then another, and another in short succession. Zichen’s hand found his arm again and squeezed in concern as Xingchen raised his free hand to cover his mouth. But as the gasps became more obviously laughter, Zichen’s hand once again relaxed. Xingchen couldn’t stop laughing. Minutes ago, he had been in a panic, ready to fight any enemy that dared harm Zichen, only for this apparent foe to have been revealed to be merely a boy excited to see his friends. He shook with laughter, trying to breathe deep to stop his outburst, but taking longer than he should.

After the laughter finally subsided, Xingchen regaining his usual composure, Wei Wuxian introduced the two new voices in turn, Ouyang Zizhen still sniffling as he gave his name, Jin Ling primly stating what an honour it was to meet him. They both already seemed familiar with Zichen, who they each greeted with variations of how nice it was to see him again, and how well he looked.

“It is an honour to meet each of you.” Xiao Xingchen answered, smiling as he bowed in each of their directions, feeling awkward at the reverence with which these youths spoke to him. He was sure their golden cores were younger than even the most recent of his worthwhile deeds, “May I ask where you and Zichen met before?”

“Ah, Xiao-xiong,” Wei Wuxian cut in nervously, before any of the Juniors could speak, “these disciples… they were there when we met with Song-xiong four years ago.”

Realization dawned on Xiao Xingchen, “With Zichen… in… Yi City?” his blood froze at the town’s name, words he hadn’t spoken since his revival, thoughts he didn’t want to let in. A link he knew existed (Song-xiong… Yi City) but that he didn’t want examine too closely because of the further associations that town’s name would inevitably bring. He’d gotten only the bare minimum of an explanation of what had happened, and was vaguely aware that Sizhui and Jingyi had been there, based on minor corrections Sizhui had made while interpreting Zichen’s recounting of the events to Xingchen. He must have wavered, because suddenly he was aware that he was leaning on Zichen’s hand not just for comfort but for support.

“Yes.” Wei Wuxian answered slowly, carefully.

Xingchen nodded slowly, mind drifting off to another time… he tried to bring his mind back to the present, breathing in deep. He focused on the smell of tea, which was never quite absent from any place he and Zichen occupied for more than a night. The feeling of his feet grounded on the floor. Zichen’s hand on his arm. The faint sounds of breathing, his own, and more importantly, Zichen’s beside him. He breathed out, his shoulders relaxed as he remembered to bring back the smile that had fallen off his face at some point.

“Of course,” he said, taking a moment to purse his lips, subtly wetting them after his mouth had become uncomfortably dry, “I am glad you were all there to help Zichen.” When I could not. He left unsaid.

The sound of a brush being dipped in ink, writing on the page, but this time, the message didn’t seem to have been for him, because instead of translating, all Wei Wuxian said was, “Come on, you four. Time for lunch. Xiao-xiong, Song-xiong, you should join us for dinner, near the Western guest rooms where Jin Ling and Ouyang Zizhen are staying. Jin Ling claims his cooking is not to be missed. I don’t believe it, but you should come anyway.”

The minor protests Xiao Xingchen heard about how they were still full from breakfast quieted quickly. Xingchen could only assume Wei Wuxian, or more likely Zichen, had cast quite the warning look at the young cultivators.

“I hope to have more time to meet each of you later.” Xingchen bowed, earning a variety of cheerful responses as the five pairs of footsteps shuffled out.

He sighed as the door slid shut, carefully pulling Zichen’s hand off his arm. He made his way back to the bed and sat down, head in hands. The young cultivators’ enthusiasm was infectious. Xingchen hadn’t laughed like that in a very long time. Their pure joy at seeing him had been hard to resist. But… He rubbed his temples. They had been louder than anything he had been confronted with since his revival, and he wasn’t sure if his current headache could be credited to their volume, his lingering exhaustion, or that they reminded him of another young one he had once taken under his wing (a girl who probably would have been better off without him, one whose sacrifice could be credited for any life he or his partner currently led).

He felt tears again paint his face and he wanted to scream in frustration. Today was a normal day. He’d woken up alone but only because the one he loved was trying to help him get some more sleep, despite the excitement of close friends reuniting. These were good things. Safe things. So why did he feel so battered?

He pressed in on the sides of his head, as though trying to force its contents into a shape that made more sense. He was safe. He was, against all odds, alive. He was supported. He was someone who was - who had always been - so composed. Able to weather anything with a smile and gentle words. Now, here he was, once again breaking down into what were becoming daily tears over basically nothing. He had experienced some tragedies many years ago, but who had not? Hanguang-Jun. Wei Wuxian. Lan Sizhui. Zichen. All had lost so much, had suffered so much, had had to live through years, hard years, which he had blissfully bypassed, only vaguely aware of his self. But now here he was, unable to hold himself together because he had been treated poorly just one time. Because he had permanently lost just one person who was close to him. No, not lost. Had killed them himself through his own blind trust. He should mourn A-Qing. He knew that. She deserved at least that. She was a hero, and had been so innocent, wandering into a conflict that should have been Xiao Xingchen’s alone to deal with. But she, not Xiao Xingchen, had noticed the danger first, even though he should have known. He had been so foolish. Was he even grieving her in the way she deserved, or was he only using her to fuel his own meaningless self-pity? His sobs grew harder, now audible.

A gentle hand on his thigh. Xiao Xingchen shook his head, moving himself away from the touch. He wanted to hide away, isolate himself from those he might harm, those he might worry. He was not worth it. Not if even here, now, he cried. Not when he felt so sorry for himself despite being shielded from the world, supported.

A clumsy plucking of strings of a guqin in the corner of the room. Safe, the chord said. The second and most recent word Zichen had asked to learn. And then, the first he had studied: Love.

Xiao Xingchen’s breathing choked, his sobs now impacting his breaths. I know, he thought, So why am I acting like this? Feeling like this?

--

After Xingchen had drained his supply of tears, once his breathing had returned to something more normal and the hiccups had subsided, Zichen went and got them some food. Xingchen assumed he was not gone long, but he could not be sure since he had fallen into a doze (that might have been sleep) shortly after he left.

Despite not having eaten anything since last night’s dinner, and understanding that it was now mid-afternoon, Xingchen found he had little appetite upon Zichen’s return. Somewhere in his mind, he was aware that his stomach called out for food, had even heard it growl not long ago. But the bun wouldn’t slide down his throat like it was meant to. The dough stuck as it went down.

Still, he tried, sipping slowly at the broth provided, clenching his fist and jaw as he managed to mechanically get the soup down, bit by bit.

After far longer than it should have taken to eat this fairly light lunch (breakfast?), he finally finished his meal and carefully piled the bowls in the middle of his tray, feeling no better, just maybe slightly nauseous.

“Thank you,” he whispered, laying his hand out on the table, an invitation, and apology after pulling away from Zichen so violently earlier. His hand was picked up gingerly, as though it might break, and lifted, lifted, until he felt Zichen’s lips brush against the back.

Safe. Love. The touch said, just as clearly as the guqin’s chords, but just as hard to swallow as the meal he had just finished.

Next: Chapter 4, Nest, Part II: Dinner, featuring Jin Ling's cooking and a much needed conversation between Xiao Xingchen and Wei Wuxian (also Wen Ning appears, finally).

Chapter 4 should be posted within a day or two! It was meant to be part of this chapter, and is already written but unedited. This chapter became so absurdly long I just had to split it.

[violinsweetiemiss]

Moonlit Frost Part 2

Here is the other half of my oneshot, I hope everyone likes it!

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Zichen.

In the hazy darkness surrounding Song Lan’s mind, he thought he could hear a voice calling out to him.

Zichen, wake up.

No, I don’t want to.

If Song Lan woke up now, he would have to once again face the reality that he had lost Xingchen forever. No, he didn’t want to do that. As he frowned and tried to burrow deeper into the depths of his consciousness, something warm pressed against his chest, and Song Lan gasped as he felt spiritual energy blooming in his chest.

Who?

Zichen, wake up!

Who are you?

Zichen, you fool. You have slept long enough! Song Zichen, wake up!

The voice was firm and insistent, but at the same time flowed over Song Lan’s ears like a gentle breeze that calmed the tumultuous emotions in his chest. 

“Song Zichen!” This time, the voice was real, reaching deep into the depths of the darkness surrounding Song Lan and pulling him from the depths of his slumber. Slowly, he opened his eyes and found himself looking up at a light green canopy of silk cloth. Someone had wrapped him securely below a warm blanket and tucked a pillow under his head, and as Song Lan turned his head slightly, he realized that he had been brought back to his quarters. His entire body ached, and a soft cough of pain escaped his lips as he tried to move. At one corner of the room, he could blurrily see a figure bent over a pan of water, and the figure moved slightly as he heard Song Lan cough.

“Shifu!” The figure came closer, and Song Lan slowly recognized Zifeng’s concerned face.

“Shifu, you’re awake!” Zifeng’s gaze was delighted as he reached his teacher’s bedside, “Let me go tell everyone!” Before Song Lan could stop him, Zifeng rushed off happily, calling out a name as he went.

“Xiao qianbei, Xiao qianbei! My shifu is awake!” Song Lan furrowed his brow in confusion as he heard the unfamiliar name. 

Who is he talking to? 

A few moments later, Song Lan heard the excited murmurs of voices coming closer to his quarters, and before long the familiar faces of his disciples rushed into the room.

“Shifu! We’re so glad you’re okay!”

“Shifu, how are you feeling?” 

“Shifu, we were so worried about you!”

Their voices filled the room in an instant, a constant barrage of questions and statements that threatened to overwhelm Song Lan’s senses. Then, a single voice rose above the disciples’ clamor.

“Alright, that’s enough, quiet down. Do you want to make your shifu pass out again? He’s still very weak.” The disciples hushed at the sound of the voice; it was calm and soothing, barely even louder than regular, but somehow it managed to calm the overexcited Thousand Moon disciples. Song Lan froze as he heard the voice, unsure if he had misheard the voice in the midst of all the disciples’ chatter. 

That voice...I know that voice!

It had been many, many years since he had last heard the voice, but...Song Lan would recognize that voice no matter how long it had been. But...could it really be? Was he just hallucinating from the pain of his injuries? The sea of disciples parted at the sound of the voice, and Song Lan saw a figure appear from around the corner. As he appeared, it was as if time slowed down, the excited chatter from Song Lan’s disciples fading into a muted murmur in the background. The approaching man was a tall, slender figure clothed in simple white robes, so white it was like the color of snow save for the grey undershirt peeking out at the collar. Song Lan’s gaze traveled slightly upwards, his gaze taking in every inch of the approaching man. A narrow face, small slightly smiling lips, a pair of sparkling black eyes. The last time Song Lan had laid his eyes on that face, the man’s eyes had been covered by a white strip of cloth, his lips pale with death, the cut on his neck marking what had led to his end. But now, that was all gone, replaced by the warmth of life in the approaching man. Song Lan’s breath caught in his throat as the man sat down next to him, still smiling.

“Zichen.” Xiao Xingchen smiled, lightly squeezing Song Lan’s arm, “It’s about time you woke up.”  

Zichen.

How long had it been since he had heard that voice say that name out loud? In all the years since Xingchen had passed, Song Lan had never let anyone else call him by that name ever again. To hear again now...

Emotions rushed up through Song Lan’s chest as he gazed up at his best friend’s smiling face. Was he dreaming? Was he in the throes of some delirium brought on by the loss of cultivation? Or perhaps, he was on his way to the next life, and Xingchen had simply come to find him. Yes, that was surely what was happening. Yet, as Song Lan pushed himself into a sitting position, something began to tell him this was all real. The warmth of Xingchen’s hand on his arm, the glint of Shuanghua shining in the morning sun from where it was strapped to his back...it was all so real. Song Lan reached out and carefully laid a hand on Xingchen’s shoulder, slowly, afraid that his fingers would move through the spirit that he was surely seeing. But instead, his fingers closed around warm flesh and bone; the man sitting in front of him was as real and alive as could be. Song Lan’s lips trembled as his gaze returned to his friend’s face, his mute lips moving soundlessly.

“Xingchen?” Tears glinted in his friend’s eyes as he realized what Song Lan was mouthing.

“Zichen.” He replied softly with a nod, “Yes, it is I.”

Song Lan floundered for how to express himself for a moment, his lips moving soundlessly as he stared in shock at the man at his side. At last, he swallowed hard and traced a few characters in the air.

Have you come to take me to the next life?

Xingchen stared at him for a long moment before chuckling ever so slightly.

“Zichen, are you still running a fever?” He asked, placing a hand against Song Lan’s forehead, “You’re not making any sense.” The gentle hand pressed against Song Lan’s forehead was warm, full of life and vitality. On a whim, Song Lan grabbed the other man’s hand and pressed two fingers against his wrist. His heart pounded in his chest as he waited for the response against his fingers. Then…

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

The strong, steady beat of a heartbeat throbbed against Song Lan’s fingers. His eyes widened as the truth of the situation finally settled into him, and as his gaze met Xingchen’s eyes again, he could tell that the other cultivator knew what he was thinking.

“I’m alive.” Xingchen said gently, “I’m alive, Zichen. You were an absolute fool to try the spell that you did, but it worked.” Song Lan stared at Xingchen for a long moment before he reached out and pulled Xingchen into his arms, tears rushing down his cheeks. Song Lan wasn’t an emotional man; he was always careful to keep the stoic, calm image that others associated with him. How else could he start and lead an entire sect? But as he finally allowed himself to believe that the man in front of him really, truly, was Xiao Xingchen, the bright moon and gentle breeze, smiling, living, breathing in front of him, Song Lan could feel all the emotions he had bottled up for all these years rush to the surface. All the pain, anguish, despair, and loneliness was washed away by the sheer relief and joy at realizing that the price he had paid had been worth it. All the years he had been waiting, all the obstacles that he had gone through…

And now Xingchen, Xingchen, was finally sitting in front of him, restored to life and vitality as if the events of Yi City had never happened.

Xingchen’s soft chuckle rang in Song Lan’s ears as he returned the embrace, one of the most beautiful sounds he had heard in a long time.

“Zichen, your disciples are watching.” He warned, his tone half chiding and half fond, “What are you going to do about your sect leader reputation?”

“Shifu, if you are feeling better, we will take our leave first.” Zifeng announced in response to Xingchen’s comment, and promptly herded the Thousand Moon disciples out of Song Lan’s chambers. A tiny smile quirked up the corner of Song Lan’s lips.

Smart boy.

He hadn’t been wrong to take Zifeng in as his first disciple. Xingchen chuckled softly.

“You chose a good head disciple.” He commented as he pulled away. Song Lan smirked as he brushed at his tears.

Of course. Only the best for our sect.

Xingchen sighed as he reached out and carefully measured Song Lan’s pulse.

“Good, it seems like your body is finally starting to recover.” He said. A frown turned down the corner of his lips as he hit Song Lan lightly on the shoulder.

“You idiot.” Xingchen grumbled as Song Lan shot him a startled look, “Don’t give me that look. What did you think you were doing, using half of your cultivation to bring me back? Zichen, I was already gone for so many years. The first thing I thought of when I first woke up next to Shuanghua was: why did you have to bring me back?” Song Lan smiled faintly as he realized why Xingchen’s spirit had disappeared when he opened his eyes. It all made sense now! A cultivator’s sword recognized its master alone, and would never let anyone else use it. It was only natural that after coming back to life, Xingchen would be brought to where Song Lan had kept Shuanghua safe in his quarters all these years. Song Lan shook his head and traced characters onto Xingchen’s palm.

For you, it’s worth it.

Xingchen shook his head.

“Zichen, you know why I took my own life so many years ago.”  He said, a mournful look taking over his eyes, “After all that happened in Yi City, I simply couldn’t…” Song Lan shook his head firmly. 

The past is the past, Xingchen. I have never blamed you for what happened that day.

“But, I-” Xingchen’s protests were cut off as Song Lan squeezed his upper arm reassuringly before tracing a few more characters on his palm.

You were not the one at fault.

Those were the words that he had wanted to tell Xingchen the most ever since he had regained control of his senses thanks to the efforts of Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji at Yi City. Song Lan knew why Xingchen had killed himself in the end. Faced with the fact that he had seemingly  killed his best friend, the one he had promised to start a sect with, that had been too much for Xingchen to bear. Even if Xue Yang had been the one who instigated everything to start with, Xingchen had been the one to strike the blow that turned Song Lan into a walking corpse. But in the end, Song Lan knew that it wasn’t his friend’s fault. In the end, if one really wanted to pin the blame on someone, perhaps it was better put on Song Lan himself. After all, if he hadn’t foolishly fallen into Xue Yang’s trap at Baixue Temple all those years ago, he wouldn’t have lost his eyes, and Xingchen wouldn’t have had to...in the end, Xingchen had simply had his path twisted by the cruel hand of fate. All the factors of fate had fallen to work against the righteous and upstanding Xiao Xingchen.

Now, all that really mattered was Xingchen was here, by his side, alive and well. Song Lan traced the same words on Xingchen’s palm again, poking his finger on his friend’s palm to emphasize the point.

You were not the one at fault.

 Xingchen stared down at his palm for a long moment, slowly taking in what Song Lan had written. Song Lan saw his friend’s shoulders tremble slightly as he took a slow, shuddering breath. Xingchen’s eyes glittered with fresh tears as he looked up at Song Lan’s earnest gaze. 

From now on, let’s just keep moving forward into the future and leave the past behind us, okay? Song Lan wrote, I will never let anything twist your fate towards darkness ever again.

Xingchen took another breath and wiped at his eyes before finally smiling warmly.

“I will hold you to that promise.” He replied softly.

________________________________________________________________

Before long, the entire cultivation world was abuzz with the news that the impossible had happened; Xiao Xingchen, the famed cultivator that had been long dead, had actually been brought back to life! It was the most unbelievable thing, and yet it had happened. And two months later, Thousand Moon Pavilion was draped in bright festive decorations and filled with guests from all across the cultivation world to celebrate the new sect leader’s ascension to his place next to the current sect leader, Song Lan. Startled whispers filled the air as Xingchen stepped into the main hall and approached Song Lan, who stood on a raised pedestal near the front of the room, but neither man paid them any heed. There would be plenty of rumors traveling around the cultivation world for a while to come, some legitimate, some exaggerated stories. But what really mattered was that Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen were both alive and well, reunited at last. Xingchen bowed in front of Song Lan, who carefully placed the unique sect leader seal he had made for Xingchen so many years ago in Xingchen’s hands.

“Xiao Xingchen, the bright moon and gentle breeze, from now on, you will lead Thousand Moon Pavilion with me.” Song Lan wrote in the air, “You must become the model for all disciples to look up to, uphold the precepts on which our sect is founded, and work to purge the world of evil. Can you do that?” Xingchen smiled and raised three fingers into the air.

“I, Xiao Xingchen, swear to uphold Thousand Moon Pavilion’s fundamental precepts, become a model for our disciples to look upon, and use my abilities to purge the world of evil. May the cultivation world be witness to this oath that I am making today.” Xingchen’s voice echoed strongly and firmly through the main hall, causing Song Lan to smile. He reached out and gently pulled Xingchen to his feet before turning him around to face the watching cultivators and disciples.

“Disciples of Thousand Moon Pavilion, hear my order!” Song Lan wrote with spiritual energy. The disciples quickly shuffled into position, all eyes fixated on their leaders.

“From now on, this man, Xiao Xingchen, will lead our sect along with me. You must all respect him, and learn all that you can from him. Do you understand?” Song Lan stated. With a quick snap of motion and flick of green cloth, the disciples bowed in unison to Xiao Xingchen. 

“Your disciples greet you, Sect Leader Xiao!” Their voices chorused in the air. Song Lan felt his chest swell as he looked over at Xingchen. He had been waiting for so many years for this moment, and finally it was coming true. It had been a long road, but it had all been worth it.

After the festivities ended and the guests retired to their rooms, Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen took a walk around the sect grounds, reminiscing about their past and updating Xingchen on what had happened in the time since he had been gone. Xingchen sighed as they paused by the main courtyard.

“Who would have thought that so many of the most esteemed cultivators harbored such dark intentions?” He mused, “The peace that exists now did not come easily.” Song Lan nodded in agreement.

“But from now on, we will work together to make sure this peace lasts for as long as possible.” He wrote, “Right, Xingchen?” Xiao Xingchen chuckled and nodded.

“Of course, Zichen.” He replied. The two friends stood in silence for a few moments.

“Look, Xingchen.” Song Lan pointed to the middle of the courtyard. A light snow had fallen the night before, and had turned into a light layer of frost as temperatures dropped. Now, the frost glimmered and sparkled under the gentle glow of moonlight that came from the moon hanging in the cloudless night sky. 

“Xingchen, promise me something.” Song Lan wrote in the air. Xingchen turned to look at him curiously.

“Anything, Zichen.” He replied. Song Lan pointed again at the frost glittering on the grass below them.

“Just as the frost cannot shine without the light of the moon, I cannot cultivate and lead this sect alone.” He stated, “So promise me, no matter what happens, don’t ever think about taking your life again. I already spent thousands of years in loneliness and sorrow, and I would not like to do it again.” Xingchen’s gaze softened and he reached out to squeeze Song Lan’s arm.

“I promise.” He replied softly, “From now on, let us walk this path into the future together.” Song Lan smiled and nodded in agreement. 

“Allow me to ask you something, Zichen.” Xingchen said after another few moments, “Why did you build the sect in blue topaz?” Song Lan smiled slightly at the question.

“Xingchen, do you know what blue topaz stands for in the foreign kingdoms outside of our country?” He asked. Xingchen shook his head.

“Do enlighten me.” He said. Song Lan smiled warmly before answering.

“Blue topaz is the ultimate symbol of friendship.” He replied, “Eternal friendship and loyalty.” Xingchen looked startled for a moment before smiling. 

“Eternal friendship.” He repeated, “I like it.” Song Lan chuckled.

“I knew you would.” He replied. Xingchen smiled ever so slightly, a teasing look entering his eyes.

“Zichen, spar with me.” He invited. Song Lan chuckled, his chest warming at the invitation.

“Please go easy on me.” He replied, “My cultivation is far lower than it used to be.” Xingchen grinned.

“Absolutely not.” He replied. The sound of swords clashing filled the courtyard a few moments later, the song of Fuxue meeting Shuanghua that hadn’t been heard for thousands of years. Under the warm light of the moon, a gentle breeze blew through the courtyard over a soft layer of cold frost and around the two cultivators leaping and spinning through the courtyard, never to be separated again.

[useless-slytherclaw]

Part 5/6

Sizhui and Jingyi fly side by side on their swords.  They had sighted a Gusu Lan signal flare while night hunting, and they’d immediately gotten on their swords.  As they fly, he can’t help but think back to the first time they’d had to use signal flares back at Mo Manor.  A shiver that has nothing to do with the cold hair flowing around him goes down his spine.  

“What’s wrong?” Jingyi calls over the sound of the wind.

“Just remembering Mo Manor,” Sizhui calls back.  Jingyi nods with a small frown.

“It can’t be that bad,” he says.  Sizhui silently agrees. “It’s not as if the Yiling Patriarch can come back twice.”

Sizhui laughs, but the wind steals the sound away.  As they continue to race forward as fast as their swords will carry them, he feels lighter.  Jingyi always has a way of doing that.

They approach the location of the signal flare, and a remote village comes into view.  They exchange glances.  What are Lan junior cultivators doing out here?

In order to assess the situation, they bring their swords to a halt over the village. It isn’t good.  There is a small band of juniors pressed together and surrounded by an entire crowd of corpses.  He hasn’t seen this many corpses in one place since the second siege on the Burial Mounds.

“This isn’t good,” Jingyi says, and Sizhui just nods in silent agreement.  Even if it looked like it was going to be incredibly dangerous, the two of them must assist the juniors. 

Sizhui glances at Jingyi, who looks beautiful standing gracefully on his sword and gilded in moonlight.  Sizhui shakes the thought from his head.  Now is not the time.

“You should attack from the roof,” Jingyi says.  “Use your guqin.  Your song of Vanquishing should be very effective against such a crowd.”

“Right,” Sizhui agrees.  Then he frowns.  “You’re planning on diving in there head first, aren’t you?”

Jingyi grins at him.

“I’m best fighting with my sword, and you know it.”

Sizhui frowns because it’s true.  Jingyi’s swordsmanship is truly impressive.  While it makes the most sense for him to drop down and fight, the idea of Jingyi down there alone is like ice down Sizhui’s spine.  

“Jingyi-” Sizhui starts.

Jingyi waves him off.  “I’ll be careful,” he promises as he angles his sword down and towards the back of the crowd of corpses.  He’s clearly planning to try and draw the corpses’ attention and to split their group.  Sizhui frowns even as he aims his sword for the closest rooftop.  He wants to fly down with Jingyi and fight by his side.  But he knows that Jingyi is right.  The best strategy is for him to target as many corpses as he can using his guqin.  

Sizhui steps off of his sword and pulls his guqin out in the same motion.  His sword sheaths itself as he steadies his hands over the strings.  Breathing in and out he draws up his spiritual power and focuses his gaze on the corpses in front of him.  He carefully avoids looking at the place where Jingyi is about to start fighting corpses and shoves the worry out of his mind.  Years and years of Lan discipline make it easy for him to focus.  

With a single, well-practiced motion he strikes the chord for Sound of Vanquishing.  The sound hangs in the air unnaturally long.  Sizhui watches as several of the corpses fall.  Seeing this, he raises his hands to the guqin again.  This time he pours more spiritual energy into the attack.  The chord that echoes out from the guqin as Sizhui plays is louder than any normal guqin melody.  More of the corpses drop, but there are still so many.  Sizhui frowns as he raises his hand for another attack.  Should he try Rest?  Would he be able to get more of them that way? Be able to slow them down so that the cultivators have a chance?  

The Sound of Vanquishing again fills the air even louder than before. Below him, the cultivators seem to have realized that help has arrived and are rallying together.  Sizhui can’t resist glancing at Jingyi. Jingyi’s sword dances as he fights and the blue glow of spiritual power leaves trailing lines in Sizhui’s vision.  

Tearing his vision away from Jingyi, he turns back to his guqin.  He decides to play Rest; he can settle more corpses with Rest than he can kill with the Sound of Vanquishing.  Then the cultivators on the ground can make sure they stay down.

Sizhui’s brow furrows slightly as he begins to play and spiritual energy pours out of him and into the song.  On the ground, corpses start to stall and sag as he plays, but he stays focused on the strings below his fingers, not allowing his attention to slip for a single moment.  As he plays the mass of corpses slowly still and the cultivators that they came to rescue rush forward to put them down while they can.  Sizhui sees none of this, all of his focus is on the dance of his fingers over the guqin strings and the energy flowing out of him and into the music. 

In his meditative focus, he doesn’t notice that there is someone else on the roof with him.  Sizhui has never tried to put this much energy into a single attack, and sweat forms beads on his forehead as he pushes the limit of his strengths.  But there are junior cultivators down there counting on the seniors to help them.  And Jingyi, Jingyi, is down there.  

Sizhui does not hear Jingyi shouting a warning.  The only sound in his ears is the song of the guqin.  He does, however, feel the sudden sharp pain in his back.  

The pain shoots like fire along his nerves and to his brain, and he cries out involuntarily.  His hands still on the strings.  As he spins around, the wound in his back screams, and his vision goes white.  By instinct, he draws his sword, even though his body screams in protest at the pain.  His eyes fall on a man standing in front of him.  He’s not so much older than Sizhui, maybe in his mid-twenties.  But his eyes are dark and cruel.  

Demonic Cultivator.  The realization hits Sizhui as he tries to swing his sword.  But the man is already stabbing at him again with a long, jagged knife.  It sinks into Sizhui’s side, and he barely contains a cry of pain.

“You shouldn’t meddle in things that don’t concern you, little Lan,”  The man hisses.

Sizhui grits his teeth and doesn’t respond.  He forces away the sensation of pain as he gets his sword up to defend himself.  The man takes a surprised jump back as Sizhui attacks him, clearly expecting him to be incapacitated.  Sizhui uses his spiritual energy to drive his sword and force the man back.  It’s easier than forcing his body to move.  The dexterity of Sizhui’s sword is certainly less than if he was wielding it in his hand, but he is still able to drive the man back step by step.  

The flowing white robes and the silvery shine of moonlight on steel alert Sizhui to Jingyi’s presence as he joins them on the roof.  But, the man who attacked him is too busy evading the sword in front of him to realize that someone else has joined the fray.  Taking two steps forward, Jingyi runs the man through the back and out through his heart.  

The man screams as the sword emerges from his chest.  Sizhui summons his sword back to him.  Jingyi races over the rooftop towards him, and his face is a mask of worry.  Opening his mouth, Sizhui tries to tell Jingyi that he’s okay, but the words don't come out. 

The world is getting dark around the edges, and Sizhui stumbles forward, toward Jingyi.  As he stumbles, he looks down to catch himself, and he sees the blood on his robes.  It is horribly red against the moon-bleached white.  Oh.

“Sizhui!”  Jingyi is right beside him then.  Sizhui focuses his gaze on Jingyi’s face.  The rest of the world is getting dark, but Jingyi’s face is pale in the moonlight.  

He can feel Jingyi’s hand on his side and the comforting feeling of Jingyi’s spiritual energy flowing into him, healing him.  

Jingyi looks so worried, and Sizhui wants to comfort him, but his body won't obey him.  He feels himself starting to slump down and realizes that he’s going to fall.  But strong arms catch him.  He’s sagging against Jingyi and no matter how hard he tries, he can’t push himself back up.  His head is starting to spin, and he distantly realizes that it’s probably blood loss.

He feels Jingyi carefully lifting him up.  Warmth spreads through him as Jingyi cradles him against his chest.  The warmth makes him realize that he’s cold, and he shivers and presses himself closer to Jingyi.  Sizhui looks up at Jingyi with eyes that won’t focus.

Jingyi is saying something but Sizhui can’t hear him, he can only see his lips moving.  The only sound in his ears is a rushing sound like a river.  He tries to focus on Jingyi’s face but the darkness has almost swallowed everything at this point.  

Darkness is dragging him down.  

“Sizhui!” Jingyi’s voice finally reaches him.  “Sizhui, stay awake.  Come on.  Don’t leave me.  We’re going to get help.  Come on, stay awake.”

Sizhui tries.  He clings to the sound of Jingyi’s voice.  There is so much pain in Jingyi’s voice, and he desperately wants to make it go away.  

“Jing… yi…” Sizhui finally manages to force the name out.

“I’m here.  I’ve got you.  It’ll be okay.”  There’s a desperate edge to Jingyi’s voice, but Sizhui feels comforted.  Jingyi is here, holding him.  He will be okay.  Still, his vision is dark, and his body is heavy, and it’s hard to stay awake.  He doesn’t notice the rush of the wind as Jingyi’s sword carries them through the air or the constant flow of healing energy that Jingyi is giving him.  

His eyes fall closed, and he can’t force them open.  Not even when Jingyi begs him too.  

“Please, Sizhui,” Jingyi’s voice is the only thing in his world and even it is getting further and further away.

“Sizhui hold on.”  

He’s trying.

“Come on.  I love you; I can’t lose you.  You have to hold on.” 

Sizhui’s flagging consciousness lights up with radiant joy.  But even that can’t keep the darkness back, and he falls into unconsciousness without being able to tell Jingyi that he loves him too.

Keep reading on AO3

Or here on tumblr: Part1, Part2, Part3, Part4,

[silvysartfulness]

xiao xingchen's mental state is So Terrible

Request: Can we see Xiao Xingchen’s thoughts on near suicide? Abandonment? Betrayal? He’s defined himself by other people for most of his life - his master, his totally-not-soulmate Song Lan, and his murder-soulmate Xue Yang. To be left by one person and then to be betrayed by another must be … a lot. Does Xingchen think he betrayed Song Lan because Xue Yang killed Song Lan’s people?  He hasn’t had any time to deal with it, because he’s been playing babysitter… and then saving his pet murderer, too.  Because I’ve put a lot of thought into this, but my writing skills are about 0, and you are so good at angst.

Okay! I’ll just… stream of consciousness on this. Because there is a lot to say about Xiao Xingchen’s mental state, his sacrifices, his losses and his choices.

There’s definitely a lot of touching on these issues currently in Heaven Has A Road. The callback to Xiao Xingchen’s suicide, and the way both Xue Yang and Song Lan fear the worst when he takes off on his own.

The kicker is that Xiao Xingchen himself doesn’t realize. Doesn’t realize that they worry about that, or why they would. He may still be very much prone to self-sacrificial and reckless decisions for the sake of others, but he’s not actively suicidal or seeking to self-harm now, at least not in such a direct and physical way.

But of course it’s a theme very much hanging in the air.

To look back at canon; Xiao Xingchen is, I think, naive even by Celestial Mountain standards. The previous two of Baoshan Sanren’s disciples who left the mountain either went dark (it’s just vaguely hinted at, but clearly it Was Not Pretty) or was a rather mischievous trickster (shaving off Lan Qiren’s beard for being a rule-obsessed square).

There is a spiritual concept of “going into the world” or “leaving the world” respectively - leaving is what Baoshan Sanren did, letting go of attachment to worldly matters to retreat to her unnamed mountain and cultivate immortality. What Xiao Xingchen does is the opposite - he chooses to “enter the world”, to leave that detached existence behind to get involved in earthly matters - beautifully alluded to by the “chen” in his name, meaning (worldly) dust. (That choice is what Xue Yang curses him for during their confrontation that last day - “If you don’t understand the world, you shouldn’t have come! Why didn’t you stay on your mountain?!” )

But he makes that choice. He wants to help people, make a difference, and so he leaves his family behind, makes that sacrifice even knowing that it means he won’t ever see his home again, and descends into the world.

Xiao Xingchen is described as gentle but determined, not only physically fighting and vanquishing evil, but helping people with any ”difficult matter” they bring before him, never refusing anyone. He wants to do good; what’s good for any humble person, not just the mighty few. And for all that he is naive, Xiao Xingchen is also self-assured and uncompromising. He knows what he is striving for, and he doesn’t hesitate when it comes to putting thought into action.

And down in the world, he finds someone else who puts those ideals over the blood ties of the mighty clans - Song Lan. Zichen. They grow close, they talk about starting a sect together – between the lines that means spending the rest of their lives together, living for those shared ideals. They grow so close, people always mention them together.

And then Xue Yang happens. Something so corrupted and grisly, it shakes even this extremely powerful young cultivator.

Whether you go by novel or series canon, the way the rest of the world handles the aftermath of the Chang massacre, it clearly dents Xiao Xingchen’s trust in the sects, in society and its concept of ”justice” quite badly.

And then Baixue happens, as a direct consequence of them capturing and making enemies with Xue Yang. Xue Yang specifically tells Song Lan, ”Tell Xiao Xingchen this is a gift for him!”

So yes, I think Xiao Xingchen takes the full blame of the Baixue massacre upon himself, because Xue Yang was out to hurt him. But because he and his immortal master were out of reach, Baixue paid the price. Song Lan paid the price.

So he broke his vow never to return home, and he gave up his eyes, in a hopeless bid to repair some modicum of the damage he’d caused, to at least give Song Lan his sight back, if not his home, his family, his ideals and beliefs and and hope.

At some point in that aftermath, Song Lan did blame Xiao Xingchen and told him they should never meet again, and he took that to heart, too. Of course Song Lan wouldn’t want to see him again – what is he now, but a reminder of those losses? The losses his own hubris caused?

So he wrapped up Shuanghua and went nameless into the world, avoiding attachments, described as wandering aimlessly from place to place to offer help and then move on, to make sure no one else would be hurt because of him. (That Xue Yang wouldn’t hurt anyone else because of him.)

I wrote a passage about him thinking back on this in an upcoming chapter;

I tried being no one, he thought, unbecomingly bitter and hurting. To make sure people wouldn’t get hurt because of me again. I thought I succeeded, but I ended up hurting people, killing people with my own hands instead.

He studiously tried tuning out the somewhat uneven footfalls behind them, focused wholly on the hand in his.

I tried being nothing, after that, after learning the truth.

But people had died because of him all the same, even then, even with him gone. The last survivors of the Chang, the people of Yi City, all those nameless victims whose blood had paid for the spells to drag him back into the world of the living… A-Qing.

I won’t hide away again, he thought, setting his jaw. I have to try… Try to be something. To do something. To leave a legacy better than this. To make it all worth it, make sure all this suffering wasn’t for nothing.

It was a bitterness that his hopes of doing that, the chance to realize the purpose he so desperately clung to… came at the hands of the man whose shadow had haunted him into nameless exile and caused all that grief and death in the first place.

How much time Xiao Xingchen had to think about all this varies wildly between CQL-canon and MDZS-canon – in the novel, not a whole lot of time passes between the Baixue massacre and Xiao Xingchen meeting a-Qing and eventually Xue Yang. But in CQL, the Baixue massacre takes place before Sunshot, before Yiling Laozu claims the Burial Mounds, before Nightless City and Wei Wuxian’s death… it’s been years of wandering alone before Xiao Xingchen meets a-Qing, and then Xue Yang. I’m not sure if it’s stated how long the Sunshot war is in CQL-canon, but even only going by the things we do know – Yanli having a child, Wei Wuxian having been dead for 16 years at the end of the Yi City arc where the main events took place 10 years ago, it’s anywhere between seven to some ten years.

So I think he has had a lot of time to reflect on all that grief from the past, but that it’s really just been spirals of hopelessness, never really processing or moving on from it. Shuanghua is still wrapped up when he meets a-Qing. He doesn’t introduce himself by name. It’s her shameless happiness, her choice to seek out his company – oh, how he’s ached for connection! - that finally gets him smiling again.

And once he makes friends with the odd stranger whose life he saves… He smiles. He laughs. They all build a home together. Shuanghua is no longer hidden. At the market, the stranger casually calls him by his name.

I think it’s only once they settle down in Yi City that he really begins healing from the horrors of the past. Dares start to build something new, in a tiny little backwater at the very edge of the map. Surely Xue Yang’s shadow won’t reach him, and this humble little existence he’s building here?

So of course it utterly breaks him when the truth comes out. Not just one, but awful truth after awful truth, tearing apart everything he’s built, everything he thought he had – everything he’s done.

A-Qing lied to him about being blind. His ”friend” was Xue Yang all along. He’s been tricked into killing people. He was tricked into killing Song Lan.

The character songs of the Yi City arc lean very heavily into Buddhist rather than Daoist themes – which is super interesting! - but especially the concept of karmic justice. No matter how unaware Xiao Xingchen was of it, he has killed. Not only did he turn away from cultivating immortality a long time ago – his soul is tainted forever. Gu Cheng speaks of ”debts” that can’t be repaid, falling into karmic sin. This isn’t just about tricking him into doing nasty things which leaves him horrified – he has been spiritually destroyed, and he didn’t even know.

The line of Gu Cheng that cuts the deepest is perhaps ”it was not your fault”/ ”The guilt doesn’t lie with you.”

Because that, I think, is at the core of things when Xiao Xingchen reaches for Shuanghua that day in Yi City - that he feels that it does. That it’s all his fault.

He has lost everything. He let down and/or was betrayed by everyone he knew. Killed his beloved soulmate. He himself is tainted and ruined beyond all salvation, because of what he’s done. And so he doesn’t just kill himself, he destroys himself, kills his body and shatters his soul, beyond all hope for reincarnation and rebirth. He utterly and completely ends himself, ends everything that is and was Xiao Xingchen.

Which is heartbreaking beyond words, and also why Heaven Has A Road clearly needed to happen. D:

…

I hope this was at least in the ballpark of the kind of rambling you were hoping for. XD