Chapter Text
“Shut up!” Jiang Cheng shoved him hard, roaring, “Why?!”
Wei WuXian was pushed into the bushes. Jiang Cheng threw himself over. He grabbed Wei WuXian’s collar and shook, “Why?! Why?! Just why?! Are you happy?! Are you satisfied?!”
He clenched Wei WuXian’s neck, eyes bloodshot, “Why did you save Lan WangJi?!”
Under the grief and the fury, Jiang Cheng had lost his mind. He couldn’t control the strength that he used at all. Wei WuXian pulled at his wrist, “Jiang Cheng…”
Holding him on the ground, Jiang Cheng continued to roar, “Why did you save Lan WangJi?! Why did you have to speak up?! How many times have I told you not to stir up trouble! Not to strike! Do you really want to play the hero so much?! Have you seen what happened when you played the hero?! Huh?! Are you happy now?! Lan WangJi and Jin ZiXuan and those people can just die! Just let them die! What’s their deaths got to do with us?! To do with our sect?! Why did this have to happen?! Why?!”
“Go die, go die, go die! Everyone!!!”
Wei WuXian’s face had turned red. He shouted, “Jiang Cheng!!!”
The sound of a crack slipped through the space between them, Wei Wuxian’s eyes dilating as he stared up.
Jiang Cheng glowered at him. Tears rolled down his cheeks. The depths of his throat let out a cry of dying man, a painful sob.
He spoke through tears, “… I want my parents, my parents…”
As Jiang Cheng pulled back, sobbing into his hands, he didn’t see the damage he had done - the way Wei Wuxian was laying on the ground, unresponsive, eyes bloodshot, blood trailing down the side of his face.
The rain poured down around them, drowning out Jiang Cheng’s sobs, drowning out the painful attempts at gasping for air that came from Wei Wuxian, drowning out the moment his body gave up, the moment his heart stopped.
Jiang Cheng managed to stop crying almost half an hour later, his tears turning to anger, and he turned around to yell at Wei Wuxian for what he had done - for grabbing the Wen’s attention, for being the reason they came to Lotus Pier, for being the reason his parents were dead.
He froze.
Wei Wuxian’s lips were blue, his eyes were bloodshot, barely open, glazed over. His chest didn’t rise, he wasn’t moving at all the more Jiang Cheng looked at him. Bruises formed over the entire span of his neck, clearly in the shape of the hands that had strangled him. Deep, dark purple bruises were covering his neck, leaving barely any skin untouched.
Jiang Cheng panicked, but only for a moment, before he reached over and slapped Wei Wuxian, watching as Wei Wuxian’s face turned over at the force.
“Wake up! Stop acting dead! You can’t pretend your way out of this!” he screamed, pounding a hand on his chest.
It took Jiang Cheng a few moments to realize Wei Wuxian hadn’t reacted at all to either of his hits - that’s when the severity of it all set in.
He wasn’t trained in healing, he barely knew how to wrap his own injuries - that’s what Wei Wuxian and the other disciples were there for, he didn’t need to know such menial things about healing when others knew them - but he did know how to detect a heartbeat.
Slowly, Jiang Cheng placed a hand against Wei Wuxian’s neck, below his jaw, reaching for the veins and arteries that always beat in time with one’s heart.
He pulled his hand back like he had been burnt - his eyes going wide, darting around the marsh that they had found themselves in.
Wei Wuxian was dead, he had killed him.
No one could find out, no one could know what he had done - what Wei Wuxian had deserved, if he was honest with himself.
Other people wouldn’t see it as he did, as a punishment from Clan Leader to disciple. As a punishment given to a traitor, someone who had been the reason an entire clan had been wiped out. No one would see Wei Wuxian’s death for what it was, what it should have been.
Deserving. Coming. Something he should have knelt down and accepted, taken his sword to his neck and done it himself.
No, no one could find out Wei Wuxian was dead. It would give him more prestige, more people bemoaning that a life had been lost too soon, that how could Jiang Cheng ever succeed without his precious shi-xiong by his side.
He would have to watch his A-Jie grieve him, burn incense, wear white because of him and not for their parents. He would have to listen to her cry, reminisce over memories of her precious A-Xian, it made Jiang Cheng want to puke thinking about it.
A thought came to him as he scanned his surroundings, as he looked at just where they were, how far from Lotus Pier they had managed to run in the time between being tied up in a boat.
His eyes narrowed on sharp peaks in the distance, a growing miasma in the air, an overall sense of dread that made everything turn back before it got too far.
Perfect, Jiang Cheng thought, hoisting Wei Wuxian’s limp, stiffening body over his shoulder and walking away from the direction of Lotus Pier, of the village they had passed, places where there were people who could see what he was going to do, people who could stop him from doing what Wei Wuxian deserved.
For everything that had been taken from the Jiang Clan, for being the one his father favored, for being the one people flocked to, for being the one people respected, the one people liked, the one people spoke to. For every moment he spent cultivating his core that was only possible because of the Jiang Clan, for the food he ate, the water he drank, the trips though the markets where he didn’t have to pay a thing.
No, Wei Wuxian deserved to be remembered as the one who left him. The one who abandoned his post after the clan he belonged to was slaughtered because of him. The one who ran off, never to be seen, too ashamed of his actions to show his face.
Wei Wuxian would be remembered as a traitor to the Jiang Clan, the reason it was almost run to the ground, generations of disciples slaughtered in one fell swoop.
He would be remembered as a coward who ran, who protected his own life and not those of his superiors.
Jiang Cheng was running on adrenaline, the high of thinking that Wei Wuxian had gotten what he deserved, and now his reputation would fall into even deeper shambles because of his actions. He carried Wei Wuxian, thinking to himself that he had never felt such peace, such silence while being in Wei Wuxian’s presence.
Truly, Wei Wuxian was much more tolerable in death than alive - and now Jiang Cheng wouldn’t have to deal with the constant comparison, the disciples would have to come to him for anything. Wei Wuxian being dead was going to be the single best use of that servant’s life that he would ever have.
Jiang Cheng made it to his destination as the sun was rising, exposing the desolate fauna, the dead tree roots, bushes, remnants of animal skeletons, bones sticking up from the ground in every direction he could see.
There was a looming darkness, dread that floated in the air around him - almost like it was recognizing the dead that was being thrown into its lands, another soul to take and capture and prevent from leaving the mortal plane without turmoil.
Jiang Cheng threw Wei Wuxian’s body down a short ravine, watching as his body hit the outsticking rocks, his skull cracking as it landed on the stone floor, dark blood managing to pool on the ground below him.
He stayed and watched as dark wisps floated towards the body, encasing it until Jiang Cheng could no longer see the red ribbon that he had wrapped around Wei Wuxian’s neck before dropping him.
He turned, walking back towards the cultivation world, towards people who would no longer hear about the honorable, just, moral Wei Wuxian - they would now hear of the deserter, traitor, abandoner Wei Wuxian.
The Burial Mounds howled as he exited their borders, accepting their newest sacrifice with pleasure.
With one last look behind him, a smirk crossed Jiang Wanyin’s face, Wei Wuxian’s clarity bell clutched in his hands.
No more, no longer would he live in the shadow of a son of a servant, someone who only became who he was because of his father’s generosity, sentimentality, because of him.
The body would turn to dust, be incorporated back into the earth to which it came. No one would be able to discern Wei Wuxian’s corpse, his bones, from the thousands that covered the grounds of the Burial Mounds.
Jiang Wanyin’s secret would die with him, and him alone.
***
Lan Wangji was running, sprinting, through the marsh, through the thicket, through the dead leaves and trees and bushes and branches. Past the bones, the corpses, the screams and pleas for revenge.
He frantically glanced around, looking for something, anything, that would make what he heard Jiang Wanyin say a lie - false, a mistake, mishearing the conversation.
When Jiang Wanyin returned to the cultivation clans as a participant of the Sunshot Campaign, he spouted a claim that Wei Wuxian had brought Wen Chao to Lotus Pier, that he had been the sole reason the Jiang Clan had faced such decimation - it was solely Wei Wuxian’s fault for the deaths of his clansmen, his parents, the Wen overtaking Lotus Pier.
Jiang Wanyin had claimed Wei Wuxian left when they were sleeping, that they had planned on going back to Lotus Pier, to fight against the Wen stronghold that was there, to reclaim the bodies of Jiang Fengmian and Yu Ziyuan - and Wei Wuxian had fled, run, disappeared, vanished.
He claimed that he woke up, and Wei Wuxian was gone, not a single trace of him in the space they had found to sleep in.
Immediately, others were giving Jiang Wanyin their condolences for having such a disobedient disciple, for Wei Wuxian fleeing in the night after everything he had caused, leaving the aftermath to be faced alone by Jiang Wanyin.
Lan Wangji had never believed such a story.
Wei Ying would never abandon his post, he would never abandon Jiang Wanyin, especially not when he knew that Wei Ying cared for the Jiang like a brother.
Something else had happened, and Lan Wangji would never be able to find out what.
There was a burning hatred for Jiang Wanyin in his chest, and he would rather let the blazing inferno grow than speak to him about Wei Ying - especially not when he knew he would just get the same answer everyone else had gotten, the answer Jiang Yanli had been given.
“He left us A-Jie! He left us and he doesn’t even care about what mess he left us with! It’s better that he’s gone, at least he can’t be in the way or cause us any more problems.”
So, when Lan Wangji stumbled across a lit campfire, disciples in gold, greys, greens, and purples sitting around it - he had walked towards them with the intention of telling them to go to sleep, to put the fire out, to not drink when they were in the middle of a war.
His steps immediately froze as he heard Jiang Wanyin’s voice, slurred, as he leaned against one of the Jin disciples.
“Ha! He’s never coming back,” He hiccuped, “Killed him and threw him into the Burial Mounds.” A sharp laugh escaped him. “It’s what he deserves anyway, that fucker, bastard, for what he did to my clan.”
Lan Wangji felt his head spinning, his heart pounding in his chest at the words.
“I thought he fled? You’re telling me you actually killed him?” A Jin spoke, their voice just as slurred, sloshing a cup in their hands, eyes wide as they looked across the fire at Jiang Wanyin.
“You think I would let him leave? I wrapped my hands around his throat,” Jiang Wanyin fell over, landing in a Jin disciple’s lap - immediately being pushed to the ground. “No one has ever deserved death more than that…that…” Jiang Wanyin’s words trailed off as he appeared to fall unconscious, a wicked smile on his face.
Those around the fire immediately erupted into laughter, reaching over and patting Jiang-Zongzhu on the back for taking care of such an unruly, traitorous disciple - for giving him what he deserved.
Lan Wangji turned, quickly running deeply into the forest as he bent over. The meager meal he had eaten earlier soon spilling out over the forest floor beneath him, a guttural sob escaping him as he fell to his knees.
It couldn’t be true.
Wei Ying couldn’t be dead.
Killed.
Murdered.
And by someone who was supposed to be his brother, someone who was supposed to care for him - and Jiang Wanyin had looked all too smug when he spoke about wrapping his hands around-
Lan Wangji shook his head, covering his mouth as tears poured down his face.
Three months. Three months.
Three months it had been since Jiang Wanyin joined them, since he told his story.
Three months that Wei Ying had been missing.
Three months that his body had been rotting in the Burial Mounds.
Lan Wangji didn’t care about repercussions as he mounted his sword, directing her towards the south, towards the Burial Mounds, towards Wei Ying.
He ran around the perimeter, trying to remember if anything Jiang Wanyin had said would help him find out where he had entered, where he had dragged Wei Ying’s body.
“Wei Ying!” He couldn’t help but shout, tears falling down his face as his hair whipped around him with every turn, every glance, every spot looked at twice for anything familiar, anything that could say Wei Ying was here.
“Wei Ying!” Lan Wangji’s voice broke as he shouted, as he stopped, looking around at the barren trees, the dead shrubs, the dead dead dead dead dead dead dead-
“Lan Zhan?”
Lan Wangji whipped around, damp eyes landing on Wei Ying.
He stood tall. His robes fell to the floor in blacks and greys. His red ribbon pristine and without a fray. Wei Ying was alive and Lan Wangji didn’t want to think about what that meant for Jiang Wanyin’s story - he didn’t want to think about anything other that Wei Ying was alive.
He ran, not caring how desperate it made him look. Lan Wangji didn’t care if he looked disheveled, unkept, if his hair and robes weren’t pristine.
“Wei Ying!” Lan Wangji spoke, arms open as he approached him, wanting nothing more than to pull the man into his arms, to not live another moment without him, to share his heart and his love no matter what Wei Ying thought of him or his feelings.
Lan Wangji blinked.
Wei Ying wasn’t in front of him.
“No, no.” He whispered, raising a hand to his head.
It couldn’t have been an apparition, a hallucination. Wei Ying had looked so real.
“Oh.” A voice came from behind him. “My bad.”
Lan Wangji turned around, watching as Wei Ying’s form solidified, as he went from a ghostly form to solid.
Lan Wangji could see through him before his form shifted, before it became solid.
That could only mean-
“Lan Zhan?” Wei Ying stepped towards him, hesitantly raising a hand towards him.
Lan Wangji pulled him into his arms, his solid, cold form into his arms. A sob escaped him as he tucked his head into Wei Ying’s neck, arms wrapped tightly around him as if he was going to float away.
“What did he do to you?” Lan Wangji couldn’t help but speak into the space of Wei Ying’s throat, feeling the way Wei Ying tensed in his arms.
Wei Ying pulled back, looking hesitant as their eyes met.
“I didn’t think you would care if anything happened to me.” He quietly spoke, breaking Lan Wangji’s heart.
“I have always cared about Wei Ying.”
A tear fell down Wei Ying’s face.
“Well, you’ve done a poor job at expressing that.”
Lan Wangji hung his head, not meeting Wei Ying’s gaze.
“I apologize.” He looked up. “I thought I had lost you before I could…before I could tell you of my feelings.” Wei Ying’s eyes widened.
“Your feelings?” He whispered, questioning.
Lan Wangji closed his eyes, committing the feeling of Wei Ying in his arms to memory, if he would never have another chance to hold him like this.
“I love you, Wei Ying.”
He heard the way Wei Ying’s breath hitched, watched the way his eyes widened.
“But, I’m not,” Wei Ying gestured to himself, “I’m not alive anymore, Lan Zhan. Certainly, you could just forget-”
Lan Wangji pulled back, grabbing both of Wei Ying’s hands in his.
“You are here. In whatever form you are in, I will always love you the same.” He paused. “I…would like to know what happened, when you’re ready to tell me.” Lan Wangji couldn’t help but reach out, wiping away the tear that fell down Wei Ying’s face.
“It’s not pretty.” Wei Ying mumbled, refusing to meet Lan Wangji’s gaze. “The form I’m in now is only because they changed my form, made me into something else.”
“They?”
“The Burial Mounds.” Lan Wangji froze. “Jiang Cheng dragged me there, left me for dead at the bottom of a ditch. I was, by all means, dead, but my core was still spinning, and the Burial Mounds was able to detect that. They took that small sign of life and transformed me, rebuilding me from the ground up, changing the very way my body functions.”
Lan Wangji blinked, and a copy of his face was staring at him, before it shifted back to Wei Ying’s face.
“I can change my appearance. I don’t abide by the rules of the living. Resentment and spiritual energy floods through my veins as my source of power. I do not bleed when I get harmed, nothing can kill me.” Wei Ying swallowed. “Your Clan’s rules would see that I be destroyed, that I’m an abomination-”
Lan Wangji cut off Wei Ying’s words by cupping his face with both hands - almost smiling at the way Wei Ying looked at him with wide eyes.
“My Clan will do nothing to harm you. You have been harmed enough.” His thumb wiped away the first tear that fell. “I do not care for their opinions, the only words that matter are yours, the only acceptance I desire is yours, the only person I want is you.”
“But the war-”
“Surely we can find another way for you to join the ranks, should you wish.” Lan Wangji brushed a strand of hair away from Wei Ying’s face. “Xiongzhang will trust my word if I show up with a new disciple under my command.”
Wei Ying reached up, placing his hands over Lan Wangji’s.
“Your hands are so cold.” He whispered. “Maybe we should continue this from an inn, somewhere warm, with real food. I haven’t had a proper meal in months.” He smiled, huffing out a laugh.
“Of course, if that is what you wish.”
“Lan Zhan, I wish for nothing more than to stay by your side. If I can do that from inside an inn with a warm bath, then it’ll be even more perfect.”