Chapter Text
“What is to be done?”
Wei Wuxian blinked, eyes unfocused. The first thing he saw was Master Qiren looking at him with a stern expression, bordering on taunting. His skin crawled.
He could still feel the teeth and nails of the corpses broken from his control digging into his flesh, tearing him into shreds so that no body would remain-
“If you are unable to answer, Wangji - tell him what is to be done.”
As gracefully as a dancer, Lan Wangji stood. He gave his Uncle a short bow before responding.
“First, deliverance-” before he could continue his answer, he was interrupted by a soft chuckle. All eyes turned to Wei Wuxian, who was still standing at his table. The head disciple was known for his boisterous laughter and easy-going attitude, but the room seemed to chill a few degrees when Wei Wuxian’s chuckle grew slightly louder. Slightly more manic.
“Wei Wuxian,” Master Qiren snapped, his face turning red in anger. “Just what do you find so funny about my lessons?”
Wei Wuxian just laughed louder, the sound no longer truly a laugh at all. He wrapped his arms around his middle, the faux-laughter tumbling past his twisted grin was accompanied by fat tears rolling down once more youthful cheeks.
“Wei Wuxian, if you are feeling unwell-”
“What sort of... of sick punishment is this?” he asked through his cackles, lifting his head but not bringing himself to look at anyone. He reached up and gripped his scalp, tugging so harshly at the roots that he could feel his hair being ripped out by the fistfull. Someone near him moved suddenly in his direction but he didn’t care.
He dropped the fistfuls of hair to the ground, his laughter bouncing off the walls of the classroom. He saw Suibian sitting casually on the floor beside the cushion he had been sitting on. With frantic movements, he darted forward and snatched it. He heard shouts of alarm but all he could focus on was how his hands shook as he unsheathed the blade.
It seemed to sing in his grip, as if it had never been abandoned.
“Wei Wuxian!” Jiang Cheng stood abruptly, seeming to be the first person to recognize the frantic look in his brother’s eye. He lunged forward, aiming to grab the blade only to be a moment too late.
Wei Wuxian stabbed Suibian into his stomach. The blade slid into his gut with ease and yet he could barely feel it. The pain of his own spiritual weapon spilling his blood onto the spotless floors of the Cloud Recesses was child’s play in comparison to the pain he had just experienced not minutes prior.
The blood pouring onto the floor seemed deafening, no one watching in horror seemed able to take a breath, let alone make a sound. While he remained upright, Wei Wuxian’s manic laughter only grew louder. He slid Suibian out of his stomach only to slam it back in again and again. He laughed and laughed and laughed as blood dripped from his mouth and eyes. His torso was riddled with holes, the blood making the ruined fabric of his disciple robes stick to his skin.
He heard rather than felt his ribs crack with the force of the blade being slammed into his chest. His blows were haphazard, Suibian slashing through his lungs, his stomach, his guts with abandon. Flesh gave way like paper.
“WEI YING!” There was a hand on his wrist but he couldn’t feel it. His laughter was beginning to fade, his vision going black around the edges.
This was the ending he deserved. After everything he did... If this was a dream, he didn’t deserve for it to be peaceful. If this was the afterlife, he didn’t deserve to rest easily. If this was a second chance, he didn’t deserve to ruin everything again.
The screaming began, as if a silencing spell had been broken. The wails of terror rang in his ears as Wei Wuxian finally collapsed to his knees. His hands were frigid and cold as ice. He dropped Suibian into the sea of blood under him, unable to keep his fingers wrapped around its slick handle.
“Finally....” He croaked, his throat raw from laughing and his voice weak from the bloodloss. A face appeared in his fading vision but he didn’t know who it was. All he could make out through the blur of his sight was white and red. “Finally the demon... is dead.”
And Wei Wuxian felt his heart beat one last time.
“What is to be done?”
Wei Wuxian blinked, bile touching the back of his tongue. He glanced around, his face growing paler and paler as he took in the scene before him. Lan Qiren, glaring at him from the front of the room. Jiang Cheng, shooting him a glance, telling him to behave. Nie Huaisang, raising his eyebrows at him from behind his fan. Lan Wangji, glancing at him from the corner of his eye.
“No...” He whispered to himself in terror. “No, no - not again-”
He grabbed Suibian, knowing the blade would reveal itself to him. Before he could draw it, there was a voice that made him freeze. How long had it been since he heard that voice say his name in such a way?
“Wei Ying...” Lan Wangji said softly, making Wei Wuxian glance to his side. The other boy - because he was a boy again, no longer the man that had persecuted and attacked him so adamantly - reached out and took hold of the wrist of the hand holding Suibian’s hilt. Wei Wuxian felt the air in his lungs freeze, a dangerous growl getting caught in his throat.
“Lan Wangji,” he snarled in return. Though he could feel his core turning safely in his chest, it was as natural as breathing to gather what little resentful energy that lingered within the walls of the Cloud Recesses. It wasn’t much, given the clan’s power, but it was enough to make his eyes glow crimson, his hair curling slightly at the ends. “Release me. Now.”
“If you’re feeling unwell-”
“Like you give a fuck about how I feel!” He ripped his wrist from Lan Wangji’s grip. He knew the older boy was strong enough to keep his iron grip, he must have been shocked enough by the sudden outburst to let go. Wei Wuxian twitched, the resentful energy settling over his shoulders like a warm winter cloak. It felt so natural to wear it, even in his younger body. “You’re such a hypocrite! Acting like you give a shit when we all know how you really feel... but now I’ve finally opened my eyes. How does it feel, Lan Wangji? To know you can’t fool me any longer?”
“What... are you talking about?” Lan Wangji’s eyes were wide, his bangs trembling faintly as he looked at Wei Wuxian with something akin to fear. As if he didn’t recognize the boy before him.
“And to think I truly believed I was wrong,” Wei Wuxian continued his tirade, his eyes glowing a brighter red. “To think I genuinely believed you and I could finally be close... what a fucking joke!”
“Wei Wuxian!” Master Qiren barked in rage, his face matching the ribbon in Wei Wuxian’s hair. “How dare you-”
“Stay out of this, you bastard,” He seethed, turning his ire onto the older man. “If Lan Wangji is a hypocrite, you’re the one he learned it from! You preach righteousness and morals but your own are so corroded and corrupt that you’d rather watch the innocent die than speak against the image you wish to project onto the world.”
“You’ve gone too far-”
“You think this is too far?” He asked with an incredulous laugh. “This? Simply talking back to you is too much? Oh... that’s a fucking riot!”
He started laughing, the sound grating and vile. Those watching the exchange had been frozen in their spots, only to flinch away at the sudden volume. He could feel his sanity - what was left of it, at least - unraveling like a poorly sewn hem. He couldn’t stop laughing even if he had wanted to - it was as if his mind was no longer in control of his body. He could feel himself sobbing through his maniacal laughter but he was powerless to stop it, even if it was breaking his heart.
He cried like this when Jin Zixuan had been killed by Wen Ning. He cried like this when he had been confronted by three thousand cultivators before the battle that had taken his beloved Shijie from him. If he hadn’t been paralyzed from her needles, he would have cried like this when Wen Qing and Wen Ning went to sacrifice themselves to the Jins, all for the sake of the life of a man who deserved to die.
He had committed too many sins, taken too many lives. Nothing he could do would come close to washing his hands of the blood that stained his skin so deeply that even his bone marrow was tinged with a red that didn’t belong to him.
“Wei Ying!” Lan Wangji called out again, his voice tight with concern. He took Wei Wuxian’s wrist once more, fingers tight as iron around the other boy’s arm. He tried to send his spiritual energy directly into Wei Wuxian’s meridians in an attempt to calm him only to gasp when he felt something foreign bite back at him.
“If this is too far, then why don’t you kill me yourself this time?” He all but screamed, spit and tears flying from his face. He felt Lan Wangji’s hand flinch away from his wrist.
“Wei Wuxian...” Lan Qiren looked conflicted. “You are unwell. Wangji, escort him to the infirmary.”
“Yes, Uncle.”
“I won’t go,” He growled, the resentful energy surging again. Those closest to him flinched away. “You can’t make me!”
“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji stepped closer. “You are pale and shaking. Please, allow me to bring you to the infirmary.”
“Fuck you, Lan Wangji-” he spat, only for his vision to go black. He collapsed only to be caught by the very boy he had been cursing.
“Something isn’t right,” Jiang Cheng murmured as he brought his hand down. He had only had to sedate his brother with the pressure point on the back of his neck a handful of times, each time only to prevent Wei Wuxian from doing something potentially deadly. “I’m coming with you.”
“Mhm.” Lan Wangji didn’t voice any arguments with the statement, turning on his heel to carry the unconscious Wei Wuxian to the infirmary.
Wei Wuxian opened his eyes to an unfamiliar ceiling.
“You’re awake,” Jiang Cheng said the moment he saw his brother stir. “How are you feeling?”
“What are you doing here?” Wei Wuxian asked, his tone cold and detached. It was such a far reach from his usual tone that Jiang Cheng physically flinched back.
“Why wouldn’t I be here?” He snapped back in an attempt to cover his shock. “You suddenly started acting possessed in class! Of course I’m going to make sure you’re alright, dumbass!”
“I don’t need you,” He snarled but found he was too weak to properly sit fully. He propped himself up on his elbow, fixing the other boy with a glare vile enough to make a weaker man cower. It wasn’t the glare of Head Disciple Wei Wuxian but rather the glare of the Yiling Laozu, feared for his bloodlust and heart as black and dead as a corpse. “I’ve never needed you.”
“Wh- Wei Wuxian!” Jiang Cheng snapped, his shock quickly morphing to anger. “How dare you say such a thing!”
“Get lost,” He snarled, a lock of wayward hair falling in his face. He was sure he looked like a ferocious ghost but he couldn’t bring himself to care. “Get the fuck out of my face!”
“Not going to happen,” Jiang Cheng shot back. “You’re my fucking brother! I’m not going to abandon you-”
He cut himself off when Wei Wuxian let out the same manic laugh he had back in the classroom. Jiang Cheng’s face paled when he saw the look on his brother’s face.
Covering his eyes with a shaking hand, Wei Wuxian laughed harder. He fell back onto the bed, his hair falling across the pillow like an inky river. He laughed harder at the irony of the whole situation.
Maybe this really was the afterlife - he didn’t think he would get one, given how he died. To anyone else, it would seem like a paradise - being able to see your beloved ones once more, at a time in your life when you were happy and filled with empathy. To anyone else, being able to relive such a time would be a blessing worth more than all the gold in the world.
But to Wei Wuxian, it was a punishment worse than death itself. Being forced to see his failures so realistically was crueler than anything even he could have come up with. Not even he would have forced this upon his enemies.
Most of his enemies, at least.
“I’m not leaving,” Jiang Cheng said finally, sitting back down and stubbornly crossing his arms. “Threaten me with that awful expression all you want but it’s not going to work.”
“Haha... a glare isn’t enough but I know what is,” he threatened. From the corner of his eye, he saw Jiang Cheng freeze. “Don’t worry, Young Master Jiang. I won’t allow that to happen... not this time.”
“You sound insane,” Jiang Cheng’s voice shook. “Get some fucking sleep, idiot. If you even got Master Qiren worried about you, you have to realize it’s something serious.”
“What’s on that tray?”
“Huh?” Jiang Cheng glanced over to the small table on the other side of the room. All that was on it was a tray holding various objects. “Looks like... a pair of scissors, a small knife, a roll of bandages, some needles for sewing wounds... why do you want to know-”
Without another word, Wei Wuxian summoned the last of his strength and darted forward. Jiang Cheng attempted to stop him but was too shocked by the sudden movement to react fast enough.
“What are you- WEI WUXIAN!” Jiang Cheng’s horrified scream was swiftly followed by the sound of blood splashing on the floor. The small knife from the tray slid across his throat almost as easily as Suibian had. It wasn’t a clean cut, but it was a deep one, and that’s all that mattered.
He refused to destroy everything again. Even if it scarred Jiang Cheng for the rest of his life, at least he would be alive to be scarred.
Choking on his own blood, Wei Wuxian crashed to the floor of the infirmary. He faintly recognized Jiang Cheng attempting to stem the bleeding, the younger boy’s hands shaking so violently that it only agitated the wound further.
Rain fell on Wei Wuxian’s cheeks. He managed to crack his eye open just a fraction. He was able to focus his gaze just long enough to see the horrified, desperate tears rolling down Jiang Cheng’s face.
His heart stuttered at the sight. He had seen Jiang Cheng cry before, but never with such a wretched, desolate, broken expression before. Not even when Lotus Pier burned. Not even when Shijie- when Jiang Yanli was killed.
Both times he looked broken, but there was enough rage behind the cracks to make him look vicious as a rabid dog.
Now he just looked like a broken child, Wei Wuxian’s blood staining his fingers, the crimson splashing up onto his pale cheeks in his desperation to stop the life of his brother from spilling out of the horrid gash on his throat.
For only a fraction of a second, Wei Wuxian felt something akin to regret for his actions but that feeling was quickly replaced by the numbness that crawled through his veins. There were no more chances to ponder the surprisingly bought of regret for once again, for the third time, Wei Wuxian was dead.
“What is to be done?”
Wei Wuxian’s knees hit the ground.
“Again?” He whispered, silent tears instantly rolling down his cheeks. “Why is this happening...?”
“Wei Wuxian! If you are feeling unwell, go to the infirmary!” Master Qiren’s voice called out.
He sounded angry, but Wei Wuxian was just grateful for the surprising opportunity to leave. He didn’t know what he would do if he were to remain in the classroom. Would he try to kill himself again? Would he collapse like a marionette with its strings cut? He didn’t want to have that choice made for him, so he did the next best thing - removed himself so there was no choice to be made. On numb feet, Wei Wuxian stood once more. His eyes were blank and dull as he silently walked out of the classroom. He swayed as he went, not even noticing how Suibian sat, abandoned at his table.
His ears rang as he wandered aimlessly. He knew the way to the infirmary, but he didn’t care much to actually go there. He knew there was nothing they could do for him there - what sort of herb or tincture could possibly exist that could cure a twisted soul?
Sounds of music drifted through the calm air. For a moment, Wei Wuxian felt the numbness begin to recede. He followed the music, not knowing - or caring - where his feet were taking him.
He never thought he would feel this way again. For a fraction of a second, he felt as though the endless darkness that had been weighing him down had lifted. Things had been... good. For once, things had been going well for him.
The Burial Mounds were livable, the Wens in good spirits. They had made a breakthrough with their farming and actually had enough money to feed A-Yuan properly. For the first time, the child’s cheeks were round. Wei Wuxian had thrown himself into the making the gift for Jin Ling and it had resparked his love for inventing and creating again. For the first time in months - years, even - he felt the same joy he had when it came to making something with his own two hands again.
He was going to see his Shijie and his nephew. He would be able to see his brother. He would be able to show the Cultivation world that he wasn’t the monster they all assumed he was. He was going to change his future, and the future of the Wens.
Things were finally looking up, and Wei Wuxian was beginning to remember what it felt like to be happy again.
For the first time in years, Wei Wuxian actually had hope.
What a pathetic fool he had been.
Then Jin Zixuan appeared where he wasn’t supposed to be. Then Wen Ning and Wen Qing took the burden of sacrificing themselves. Then Jiang Yanli appeared where she wasn’t supposed to be. Then Jiang Wanyin attempted to rid the world of the plight that had once been his brother.
And what little happiness he had managed to scrape together, cupped in desperate, trembling hands, scattered in the wind once more. Being ripped to shreds by his own corpse army had been a blessing, for he knew the moment they turned on him that there would be no chance for him to be reincarnated.
It was more than a relief to know he would never again return to such a cruel, cold world.
But then he woke up again. It was inhumane, but maybe he deserved it. After what he did... was he not the one soul in existence who deserved this sort of eternal damnation?
If he couldn’t die, he would be forced to relive the happiest time of his life for eternity? Doomed to recall the months where he was carefree and filled with a vigor for life? Now, every time he saw a familiar face, or walked a familiar path, rather than nostalgia he would be filled with nothing but despair and desolation.
These happy memories would be tainted, just as he was.
“Young Master Wei,” The music stopped and Wei Wuxian felt the tension immediately return to his shoulders. He froze, eyes sharp. If there was a threat, he wasn’t about to be caught off guard by it. “Aren’t you supposed to be in class?”
“Young Master Lan,” His words were stilted and stiff. He only remembered a beat later to bow to Lan Xichen. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“You weren’t interrupting anything important,” He placed Liebling aside and gestured for the younger boy to sit beside him. “I simply had some free time and felt the urge to play a little. Did you find it pleasing to listen to?”
“You are very skilled,” Wei Wuxian said, awkwardly sitting beside the older boy. His body was tense, the lines of his limbs stiff as a corpse. Lan Xichen frowned a little at the sight - how often had he heard his brother complain about Wei Wuxian’s lazy way of sitting? And now he looked as if he had received news of his own execution. “This one was drawn to your playing.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” Lan Xichen took a closer look at Wei Wuxian. While he looked the same as he had the day prior, there was something different about the boy. His hair was in the same ponytail, his robes sat the same on his frame. With a sinking stomach, Lan Xichen realized what was different.
It was the lifeless look in the younger boy’s eyes.
Normally Wei Wuxian’s eyes shone like moonlight, mischief and amusement twinkling with promises of breaking rules. Now, his eyes were dull as old steel, the shine long scrubbed away.
“Are you feeling alright, Young Master Wei?”
“Of course,” He replied instantly, his tone as dull as his eyes. It made Lan Xichen’s mouth turn down. “This one simply needed a break. Master Qiren’s lectures can be... a bit much, sometimes.”
“That they can be,” Lan Xichen agreed easily. “They can be hard for the Lan disciples to sit through. I can only imagine how much more difficult it must be for one not accustomed to the way our sect lives.”
“It’s... not unbearable,” Wei Wuxian admitted softly. His brow furrowed faintly, as if recalling something unpleasant. “Sometimes we take for granted the peace we find ourselves in. The Cloud Recesses are nothing like Lotus Pier, but I’d have to be a fool to be unhappy knowing I’ll have three meals a day and a bed waiting for me come evening.”
“Do... are you not fed well in Yunmeng?”
“I was- I am,” Wei Wuxian winced. How long had it been since he stepped foot in his home? The last time he had been to Lotus Pier, it burned to the ground along with everyone in it. He and Jiang Cheng had been the only two present who survived. “Of course I am.”
Wei Wuxian still wasn’t sure what he had woken up in, but he realized quickly he needed to be careful. He clearly couldn’t die, which meant if anyone caught on he could be tortured to the point of breaking only to be brought back again and again.
His last two deaths still clung to the back of his tongue. He had killed himself twice in the span of an hour. It was hard for him to gauge time, seeing how he was stuck in some sort of demonic loop, but the combined time he had spent in the Cloud Recesses since being torn to shreds in the Burial Mounds couldn’t have been longer than an hour. He could feel the skin of his torso and throat itch where - in another time - a blade had so easily severed the tendons and spilled his blood onto the floor.
His hand twitched. He could see Lan Xichen’s sword sitting beside him. It would be little effort to dart across the table and grab it. He could skewer himself before the older boy even had a chance to blink.
But he would wake up again, as he had the first two times. He didn’t dare test it again so soon, for the crushing realization that he couldn’t die the way he deserved would have been too much to bear.
“What’s on your mind?”
“A story,” He lied smoothly. “I came across it a while back but was never able to finish it.”
“What was it about?”
“A vile, inhuman demon was killed, but they woke up again in their own past, before everything went wrong,” He didn’t know how honest he could be but at least he had an escape plan. If things went south he simply needed to kill himself again to restart this infernal loop and no one would be the wiser for it. “No matter what they did, they continued to wake up at the same point over and over again.”
“Did you ever find out why they kept waking up again?”
“No,” This time it was the truth. “I think it was punishment for the crimes they committed in their first life.”
“Well, how would you have wanted it to end?”
“Huh?” Wei Wuxian blinked. It was the most expression Lan Xichen had seen on the younger boy’s face since he sat down. Wei Wuxian furrowed his brow for a moment in thought before helplessly shrugging.
“I don’t know,” He whispered, eyes downcast. “I... I was never very good at storytelling.”
“Well, if I could choose the ending, I think I’d like for the demon to realize they had been misunderstood and being sent back in time was a second chance for them,” Lan Xichen hummed. He tapped his chin as he pondered the imaginary plot. “I think it would make for a good story for the evil demon to be a morally grey character who is able to atone for his sins and create a better world in the end.”
“That’s... a lovely ending,” Wei Wuxian’s throat stung. “I think... I think that would have been a good ending.”
“It’s a shame we’ll never get to know how it actually ended,” Lan Xichen actually sounded remorseful. A moment later, the sound of a bell tolled in the distance. “Ah, I must get to my lecture. Uncle will be cross with me if I’m late again.”
“Again?” Wei Wuxian’s eyebrows rose in shock, causing Lan Xichen to smile and chuckle warmly.
“As hard as it is to believe, I’m not perfect,” He chuckled again at the sudden gobsmacked expression on the younger boy’s face. “I, too, lose track of time. I, too, find myself wanting to do things other than attend lectures.”
“I shouldn’t keep you any longer then,” Wei Wuxian said, standing and offering the older boy a low bow. “Thank you for allowing me to keep you company.”
“It was my pleasure,” Lan Xichen’s smile softened. “If you ever feel the urge to listen to my playing again, I’d be more than happy to indulge you. It’s not often I have an audience, so it would be quite the treat for me.”
“I may take you up on that,” Wei Wuxian attempted to smile, but the muscles felt creaky and unused. He caught a flash of something on Lan Xichen’s face but he couldn’t bring himself to try to name the emotion. “I’ll be going.”
“Wait.”
“Is something the matter?”
“Have you been in a fight recently?” Lan Xichen asked, his serene face twisted minutely in concern. Wei Wuxian frowned slightly at the seemingly random question.
“Not that I’m aware of,” he answered honestly. If his poor memory served him correctly, this was weeks before he punched Jin Zixuan in the face and was sent home early. At this point in his studies, he shouldn’t have gotten into any fights. “Why do you ask?”
“There’s a scratch across your throat,” Lan Xichen hummed. “I thought it was a trick of the light, but it seems raised.”
Wei Wuxian’s hand flew to his neck. To his horror, he felt a raised line across his adam’s apple, just as the older boy said. It matched perfectly to the gash that had killed him in the infirmary. He had a sinking feeling he would find similar marks on his chest should he open his robes.
“This one is unharmed.” How his voice remained steady, Wei Wuxian was unsure. He was just grateful that the concern on Lan Xichen’s face melted into his usual warm smile. The older boy nodded once more.
“In that case, I’ll be on my way,” He hummed. “If you find yourself in trouble at any point, please come find me or Wangji. We’d be happy to assist.”
Wei Wuxian nodded. In a past life, he might have been torn between scoffing and feeling giddy at the prospect of Lan Wangji being happy to assist him with something. Now, however, all he felt was numbness.
Without another word, Wei Wuxian left the small clearing he had happened upon and continued his aimless walk.
The concept of wounds on his chest burned his mind to ash so he changed direction and began walking towards the guest disciple dorms. He didn’t know exactly how much time had passed since the toll of the bell and him sliding the door to his room open, but he prayed to the gods that had forsaken him long ago that Jiang Cheng wouldn’t be there.
For once, it seemed the gods were listening. The room was blissfully empty, allowing Wei Wuxian to release a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. Vanity was forbidden in the Cloud Recesses, but each guest disciple dorm was furnished with a small mirror to ensure everyone’s appearance was appropriate.
His hands shook as he undid his robes. He caught sight of the line across his throat that Lan Xichen had pointed out and felt his stomach revolt. It was faint, as if he had simply been scratched by a branch, but the skin was raised and pink against his natural tan. He realized with a start how strange it looked to see his reflection with the golden glow that wove poetics of Lotus Pier’s sun.
The last few years of his life, Wei Wuxian had been as pale as a ghost, any hints of warmth having been siphoned from his being long before he was known as the vile Yiling Patriarch.
It took him a few tries, but he finally got the ties of his under robes undone. His heart thudded painfully against his ribs as he took in the sight of a single, raised line on his chest. It was as long as Suibian was wide and was the same pink as the one across his throat. For a moment, he was shocked that there was only one. He recalled stabbing himself through enough times to qualify him as a fishing net only to pale when he finally understood what had happened.
It was the killing blow. The other wounds had aided in the loss of his own life, but this was the mark that had finally finished the job.
No, that wasn’t quite right. Looking closer, he felt bile on the back of his tongue once more. They were harder to see, but the other marks were indeed still there. They blended in with his skin better, as though they were long healed scars, but if one were to look close enough they would see them.
A helpless chuckle slipped from his lips. He couldn’t even escape his own death, he realized with a heavy heart. No one else would remember, but his body would never forget. How many times would he have to kill himself before he would stop waking up? If you were to pour water from one bucket into another over and over again, eventually there would be no water left. There had to be a limit to how many times he could wake up before his soul was no longer viable.
But was he strong enough to test it? Was he strong enough to kill himself over and over again in hopes that maybe - just maybe - one of the attempts would work and he would actually remain dead?
“There you are,” The door slammed open. Wei Wuxian didn’t bother moving to cover his chest. He couldn’t rip his eyes away from his own reflection. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Jiang Cheng in the mirror, the younger boy looking angry. “You left Suibian in the classroom! And worse, you never even went to the infirmary! What the fuck were you thinking? Master Qiren is going to spit up blood when he finds out. You’re going to be copying rules until your hair turns grey!”
“It doesn’t matter...” Wei Wuxian muttered lifelessly, still staring intently at the mark on his chest. He barely recognized himself. At fifteen, he had nearly twice the muscle he had died with, the skin unmarred by the Wen brand and the other reminders of his mistakes. It was like looking at a stranger, knowing fully well that you should know who they were.
“Of course it matters,” Jiang Cheng snapped, storming over to him. He gripped Wei Wuxian by the shoulder and pulled him around. “Master Qiren will absolutely write to Father! Then what will- holy shit, what happened?”
“What?”
“You-” A trembling finger traced the mark on his chest. Wei Wuxian heard a soft gasp as the finger trailed up to the mark on his throat. “Who... who did this to you?”
“No one.”
“Bullshit!”
“I did it.”
“You-” Jiang Cheng seemed to choke on the word. “We’re going to the infirmary. Now.”
“Why?” Wei Wuxian remained firmly planted on the ground, despite how the younger boy was attempting to tug him to his feet. “They won’t be able to do anything.”
“You’re hurting yourself,” He snapped. For a moment, Wei Wuxian recalled the broken expression on the other boy’s face when he slit his own throat. After that brief moment, the image was gone. “They have mind healers here. You- if you’re feeling so badly that you feel the need to take it out on yourself... they can help you here.”
“I don’t need help.”
“If you’re accepted into a program through the Cloud Recesses... you won’t have to go back to Lotus Pier when lectures are over.” Jiang Cheng whispered. Wei Wuxian felt ice go through his veins and Jiang Cheng was able to take advantage of his brother’s momentary shock to haul him to his feet. He barely registered Jiang Cheng retying his robes. It was a haphazard job, leaving the normally crisp lines crooked and uneven, but it was enough to make him decent.
“Why wouldn’t I return?” He allowed himself to be dragged out of the room.
“Because maybe then you’ll actually be happy,” Jiang Cheng’s voice was thick with tears, but all Wei Wuxian could see was the back of the younger boy’s head. “The only times you’re actually happy there are when you’re with me and A-Jie... maybe if you stay here, you can learn how to be happy in general.”
“I don’t think that’s possible for someone like me,” Wei Wuxian finally found the strength to rip his hand away from the other boy’s grip. “If I were you, I’d stop caring so much. Madame Yu was right - I only ever bring disaster with me. It would be best for everyone if I disappeared.”
“Wei Wuxian!” Jiang Cheng’s voice shook. He whipped around, showing his horrified expression to his brother. “Don’t- don’t say shit like that! What are you even talking about? Better for everyone? Who the fuck is everyone? Whose life would be better if you disappeared? Not mine! Not A-Jie’s! You-you can’t do that to her! You can’t do that to me-”
“It doesn’t matter,” Anger began seeping into his voice. “Get lost!”
“Wei Wuxian!”
“Jiang Wanyin!”
The two boys stared daggers at one another. Jiang Cheng’s eyes were red and glassy from tears. Wei Wuxian’s eyes were cold and steely with anger.
Without another word, Wei Wuxian bolted from the path. He could hear Jiang Cheng calling after him but he didn’t dare stop. While the younger boy was faster than him in the water, if Wei Wuxian ran at his full speed there was no chance Jiang Cheng would be able to catch up with him.
He didn’t even care that he didn’t have his entry token on him. He raced towards the gates, the only thought on his mind was to get out. No one called after him as he raced out of the Cloud Recesses. He faintly wondered how long it would take for anyone to even realize he had left the mountain at all. He knew Jiang Cheng would sound the alarm that he had run off, but he had a feeling everyone on the hunt would remain within the confines of the Cloud Recesses. They wouldn’t think to look for him in Caiyi town.
With that, Wei Wuxian bought himself a little time.