Pendulum

One of Wei Wuxian’s earliest, hazy memories is from a dusty street on a hot day. He was sitting on the ground with a parched throat and aching feet, watching as the air shimmered in the bright sunlight. He’d been walking for so long, trying to find the shushu mama and baba had told him to find if they didn’t come back but he was tired and so, so hungry. He’d found berries on his way to the town but now there were no bushes or fruit trees he could eat from and trying to snatch food from the vendors got him kicked and yelled at. He was so hungry that he’d ended up eating half-rotted cabbage thrown away from the food market, and while that filled his stomach, he also threw up soon after. He’d also found a dead squirrel but he’d been attacked by a dog that stole it so he hadn’t gotten to eat it.

And now, he was leaning against a wall, hugging his knees to his chest, and wishing mama and baba were there. He wanted mama and baba! If they were here, he wouldn’t be pushed or kicked, he’d be given hot buns and tanghulu and kisses and smiles and never harsh words. He didn’t want to be here! He wanted to go home!

He jerked when a shadow fell over him, tried to curl into an even smaller ball away from the mean adults but it didn’t help. The shadow stayed put. When Wei Wuxian braved to raise his head slightly, he saw the hem of purple robes.

”Hello,” a man, an alpha said. His face was wearing a frown but his eyes were kind and he smelled friendly. That was nice because there had been alphas whose scents had made him scrunch his nose and back away. But their eyes hadn’t been kind, either so Wei Wuxian felt it was okay to think their scents had been ugly.

But kind eyes or not, Wei Wuxian didn’t answer. Mama and baba had said he shouldn’t talk to strangers, especially alphas.

The alpha knelt on the dusty ground, uncaring of his pretty robes getting all dirty. ”You seem to be in distress,” he continued with that same, gentle voice. ”Are you lost?”

Wei Wuxian hesitated a moment. Should he say anything? But he was so hungry and scared and the alpha had a sword like mama and baba, so he bit his lip and nodded.

”Hm,” the alpha said, his scent turning muddled, reminding Wei Wuxian of baba’s scent when mama was away for long. ”Where are your mama and baba?”

And just like that, Wei Wuxian’s eyes filled with tears. ”They’re gone,” he half-whispered. ”They left for a-a-a night-hunt and didn’t come back.”

”A night-hunt?” The alpha’s eyes widened and his scent turned sharp. Wei Wuxian flinched and the alpha mellowed his scent back to the nice and safe it had been when he first knelt in front of Wei Wuxian. ”Little one, are your parents cultivators? Do they have swords like mine?”

Wei Wuxian glanced at the man’s sword and nodded slowly. 

”I think you should probably come with me to Lotus Pier,” the alpha said. ”If your parents are in trouble, we can help you.” Wei Wuxian’s stomach decided to growl loudly at that point and the alpha’s lips drew into a smile. ”And we have all the food you can eat.”

”Really?” Wei Wuxian asked. He knew he shouldn’t trust so easily but the alpha seemed nice and he promised food.

The alpha nodded. ”Really. Now, have you ever ridden a sword?”

He fell asleep in the nice alpha’s arms, his face tucked against his neck. The man’s scent surrounded him, almost like mama’s, protecting and shielding him. Later, he would recall urgent, furious whispering and phrases like ’He smells like Wei Changze and Cangse Sanren,’ and ’His parents were strong enough to ride swords,’ and ’How dare you to bring him in without asking me,’ but they meant little to nothing to him. He only knew that he woke up in a nice place, was given food, and introduced to two other kids who from there on were his shidi and shijie.

He was told he was home.

A-Cheng is an alpha, A-Li is a beta, and with Wei Wuxian as an omega, the Yunmeng Jiang sect head family now has children with all three secondary genders. It doesn’t matter to them, though, because even though secondary genders are revealed in the first weeks after birth, they hold little to no value in everyday lives until the child hits puberty. (Or that’s how things are in the Yunmeng Jiang sect. Wei Wuxian will later find out not all sects are as carefree about the secondary genders.)

It doesn’t take long for Wei Wuxian to learn all nooks and crannies of his new home. He learns how to swim and ride and meditate and draw talismans. He learns both to ride his sword and fight with it, although he never quite manages to keep up with the proper forms of the Yunmeng Jiang style. He likes to adapt and improvise, something Jiang Fengmian—Jiang-shushu—silently approves of and Madam Yu sneers at.

Then again, no matter what he does, he never quite seems to please Madam Yu. She’s the head of the household, the Violet Spider, the mother of shidi and shijie. She’s also an omega like Wei Wuxian but their secondary genders are merely attributes and have nothing to do about how they feel about each other: Wei Wuxian tries to keep out of her way and she ignores him. But sometimes he catches her watching him with a strange, calculating look. He’s not sure what to make of it so he chooses not to think about it.

His first heat hits when he’s fifteen. It comes as a surprise to absolutely no one since he’s been restless for a couple of weeks and both Jiang-shushu and Madam Yu can recognize the signs. It’s the first time Madam Yu treats him in an almost friendly way, instructing him how to build a nest he’ll feel most safe and comfortable in, what talisman to use to keep the heating pad hot for hours, what herbal mix to alleviate the insistent ache in his lower back. She also instructs him how to relieve other things that may or may not ache and it’s the most embarrassing tutorial he’s even been forced to listen through. (He doesn’t need the advice because first heats tend to be cuddling heats but he marks her words for possible future use anyway.)

After the heat, his sense of smell is keener, he’s more aware of the people in the room, and people also react to him differently than before. 

”It’s because your scent has matured,” Jiang-shushu says one evening. ”Your secondary gender has now fully manifested, marking you as eligible.”

”Eligible for what?” He asks.

Jiang-shushu shrugs. ”For marriage, for instance. Or, well that’s the traditional meaning. Now, it’s more like coming of age. Alphas get their ruts and omegas get their heat.”

”Hm,” Wei Wuxian says. ”What do betas get?”

Jiang-shushu smiles. ”Level heads since birth,” he says with a wink and grins when Wei Wuxian laughs and A-Li ducks her head to hide her smile.

”It’s not just for marriage,” Madam Yu snaps. She somehow managed to walk in without them noticing and is now standing next to the table, regarding her husband with a cool look. ”Omegas are capable of more than just bearing children.”

Jiang-shushu inclines his head. ”I am well aware of that and I meant no slight, Madam.”

Madam Yu huffs and raises an expectant brow. After a split moment of stunned silence, Wei Wuxian, A-Cheng, and A-Li hurriedly shuffle out of the way to make room for her and then duck their heads as she gracefully sits down. They drink tea in silence, Wei Wuxian exchanging confused looks with his shidi and shijie while Jiang-shushu frowns slightly at his wife. Madam Yu doesn’t deign to pay attention to any of that; she merely sips her tea with perfect control, her maids, Jinzhu and Yinzhu, standing behind her like statues.

Wei Wuxian jolts when Madam Yu lowers her cup with a soft clink, turns to look at him, and asks, ”How do you feel?”

Barely avoiding choking to his tea, he hastily swallows. ”Thank you for asking, Yu-furen, I feel fine.”

Madam Yu doesn’t reply but she holds out her hand. A bit dumbly, Wei Wuxian slowly extends his and bites back a gasp when he feels her spiritual energy sweeping into him. She’s never done that before—perhaps feeling such was below her, considering he’s just the son of a servant—so her sheer strength comes as a surprise. Her energy burns through his meridians like wildfire and it takes all that he has to stay still and face her without showing his discomfort. Something flashes in her eyes and for the merest moment, the burn becomes nearly unbearable, and then it’s gone.

”Madam—” Jiang-shushu starts but she silences him with her hand, Zidian letting out a small crackle of purple lightning along the finger it’s on.

”Do not interfere with omega issues,” she snaps. ”They are none of your concern.”

Wei Wuxian doesn’t see what Jiang-shushu’s reaction is because his focus is on Madam Yu’s hand, still holding his wrist. When she finally releases him, he grits his teeth, refuses to slump in relief, and says, ”Thank you, Yu-furen.”

”Mn,” she says and rises to her feet, giving him a look from the corner of her eye before she leaves. 

For some reason, he feels like he passed a test.

Wei Wuxian is quite happy with this updated version of his omega status. Yes, he knows it comes with some limitations, and yes, there will be people who will sneer at him even more than before his heat but all in all, he likes it. He likes the way he can play the room, the way people will sway when his scent hits them. He likes teasing his shidi and shijie, tickle their noses with his humor, and push A-Cheng’s scowl from his face with a smile and a burst of happy scent.

When A-Cheng gets his first rut, Wei Wuxian smells it coming for days. It makes him want to sneeze because it feels like a small insect made a nest inside his nose and buzzed there, and it burns in the back of his mouth. Shidi is even more irritable after he emerges from his seclusion ten days later and Wei Wuxian just can’t not let him be. The following weeks are filled with back-and-forth poking and teasing that finally ends up with their robes torn and stained and them both in the lake while shijie stands on the dock, shaking her head in fond exasperation.

Sometimes, Wei Wuxian smiles at the pretty girls in the docs and looks up from under his lashes at the old grannies selling sweet buns and reaches out for them, delighted how they sway toward him with a smile and give him a discount from his purchases. (He never takes the chance. He always compliments them and pays the full price because he’s many things but he’s not mean.) To him, it’s harmless fun. He knows the girls and the grannies can smell he’s a newly matured omega which makes them more lenient to his antics. And if he enjoys how they coo at him and pinch his cheeks, well, that’s his own business.

(There are rumors, of course, of other kinds of omegas. The ones who can manipulate people around them and bend them to their will. There are rumors of omegas who can wield their secondary genders as weapons, honed to hurt and kill. There are old books in the dark corner of the Lotus Pier library that tell fantastical tales of such omegas, powerful and ruthless, willing to stop at nothing until they get what they want. Sometimes the tales seem like romances, sometimes they are cautionary tales. Sometimes, Wei Wuxian sneaks a look at Madam Yu and wonders.)

Throughout their childhood, all three of them had known Jiang Yanli would never excel as a cultivator as she’d been sickly after birth which had stunted both her physical and spiritual growth. It doesn’t matter, though, because A-Li’s strength has always been her character, not her cultivation. She’s the one who can make things happen with gentle smiles and soothing words, a thing of beauty Wei Wuxian will never truly understand. After he and A-Cheng go through their respective puberty, it became glaringly obvious that out of the two of them, Wei Wuxian is the most skilled one and that his cultivation is higher than Jiang Cheng’s which lands him the position of Head Disciple. The fact that Jiang Cheng is a highly competitive alpha doesn’t make things any easier but at least Wei Wuxian’s omega status prevents his shidi from strangling him. 

Probably. 

Hopefully. 

Anyway, at least they have shijie as the mediator in between them, wrangling them with an exasperated shake of her head.

”A-Cheng, A-Xian, you really should concentrate on doing things together instead of competing with each other,” she chides as she ladles soup into two bowls. 

”But shijie, he said I couldn’t do it!” Wei Wuxian whines, resting his head on her shoulder.

”You told me I was too slow to keep up,” Jiang Cheng snaps. ”As if Sandu is weaker than your sword.”

”So mean!” Wei Wuxian wails.

A-Li sighs and pushes the bowls at them. ”Eat. And then come up with a way to explain Father just how you ended up in the lake this time.”

Wei Wuxian grins and tilts his head at Jiang Cheng who scowls into his bowl.

Wei Wuxian enjoys standard cultivation and honing his skills with his sword but he feels he’s at his best when he can sink into figuring problems out, constructing new talismans from a scratch, or building new gadgets to help out with night-hunts. Tradition is nice, yeah, but to stay within the tradition is to limit oneself, he reasons, so after he learns the rules, he gleefully starts bending them and twisting himself (and others, usually Jiang Cheng) around them. He storms through Lotus Pier’s library and reads everything on unconventional, revolutionary techniques he can find and then descends into a frenzy, trying to implement everything he’s read into the talisman work he does.

It’s exhilarating and interesting and he loves it.

He will only later learn how fortunate he is, being part of the Yunmeng Jiang sect and granted this much freedom as an omega. In many other secs, honoring traditions is important, yes, but even more important for omegas is to learn proper etiquette, learn to support and guide their cultivation. To nurture, care, protect. Wei Wuxian isn’t that into nurturing but he does care and even without Madam Yu’s stinging reminders how his most important duty is to protect his adopted siblings, protecting is something that he feels down to his golden core. He’s willing to go a long way for the people he loves and figuring out increasingly complicated talismans and arrays is just one way to make sure he’ll never fail.

So, when the invitation to spend a year with the Gusu Lan sect arrives, Wei Wuxian can’t wait to see what the secretive and highly skilled sect has to offer him. Yes, yes, sure, he needs to learn all the boring stuff along the way but he’s willing to tolerate it as long as he can get his hands on all the old books in the Lan library. All the knowledge just sits there, waiting for him!

”You realize you’ll have to actually study with everyone else?” Jiang Cheng points out dryly. ”You can’t just go traipsing along the Cloud Recesses and live a year in their library.”

”Aiyah, I know,” Wei Wuxian scoffs, secretly wishing it was true. ”But I already know all that boring stuff. How hard can it be?”

”Don’t say that!” Jiang Cheng snaps. ”It never ends well.”

(Sadly, his shidi is right.)

The Gusu Lan sect is famous for its high cultivation, its extensive library, and its alpha disciples and their impeccable control. They are always calm, always collected, always perfectly at peace with themselves and the people around them. They’re also almost completely scentless which makes zero sense to Wei Wuxian. To him, scents are natural and part of life, there to add a layer to the dialogue like intonation or facial expressions. 

It’s almost eery to walk through the Cloud Recesses and take in the disciplines who wear similar, polite masks and who project no other scent than the cool morning mist of the mountain. It makes Wei Wuxian want to ruffle them up, to poke them just to see if they’re human at all under those placid masks. And because he’s him, he ends up doing exactly that—and lands with his first punishment before his first day is even halfway through.

The Cloud Recesses is also the first place Wei Wuxian feels an undercurrent of unease about his secondary gender. Not that there’s something wrong with it, or that he himself is somehow faulty but…there’s something. No one says it to his face, of course—after all, disturbing omega cultivators in any way is prohibited—but the feeling is there. After spending years on the street and depending on his ability to read people, Wei Wuxian can see it in the way how Lan Qiren’s lip curls just the tiniest bit and how the other Lan look at him as he walks past. 

”It’s stupid!” He wails into his pillow as he flops on his stomach after yet another evening of copying the rules. ”Secondary genders are mostly social constructs just like our primary genders and we shouldn’t be treated any differently from alphas or betas just because we go into heat and leak from our asses.”

Jiang Cheng makes a disgusted noise from where he’s sitting on the floor, leaning against Wei Wuxian’s bed. He’s allowed in Wei Wuxian and Jiang Yanli’s room for three hours each evening because they’re brothers, but the Lan rules explicitly deny him from sitting on his bed. Nie Huaisang, a fellow omega, is allowed both in Wei Wuxian’s room and on his bed which, is pretty narrow-minded of the Lan because just because they’re omegas doesn’t mean they couldn’t be doing…things. Like the omegas in Nie Huaisang’s books. 

It makes no sense, which has rapidly become Wei Wuxian’s general state of mind regarding the Lan rules.

”Ah, ignore me,” Wei Wuxian sighs and turns to his back. ”I know it makes you uncomfortable.” 

”Been ignoring you for the past six years,” Jiang Cheng grumbles and Wei Wuxian smacks him with a pillow without bothering to sit up.

Nie Huaisang says nothing, just leans his head against the wall and hides his grimace behind a fan. (Which makes him wonder, again, how Nie Huaisang can be so uncomfortable with his own omega side while consuming porn as much as he does. But it’s also none of Wei Wuxian’s business, so he leaves it be.)

”It’s just so annoying, making me copy all those stupid rules—and for what?” Wei Wuxian asks genuinely offended. ”For contradicting things Lan Qiren says? For not asking permission to speak from my familial alpha—as if Jiang Cheng could ever make me stay silent anyway?” He snorts and then yelps as his shidi punches his shoulder. ”I really don’t get why he turned so red when I asked if they serve anything with flavor? Okay, so, that one was a bit rude, sure, but it hardly merits me with yet another round of rule copying, does it?” 

”You could just not,” Jiang Cheng points out.

Wei Wuxian pushes himself up with a dramatic gasp and clutches his chest. ”A-Cheng! How could you even suggest something like that?”

Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes. ”Because I’d like to go home without putting our sect in shame?”

”I’m not putting our sect in shame,” Wei Wuxian says with a frown, suddenly serious. ”Just because I want to know the reasoning behind the rules doesn’t mean I’m disrespectful. Following rules just because they’re written down on a stone means nothing if you don’t know where the rules come from and why. Blind obedience is just stupid.”

”And how did Teacher Lan take that reasoning, Wei-xiong?” Nie Huaisang asks from behind his fan.

Wei Wuxian groans and flops back down on the bed. ”Learning comes first. Be respectful and humble. Honor your teacher and respect his teaching. Do not disregard laws and rules,” he intones, mocking Lan Qiren’s voice. ”He should remember not to criticize other people or treat them with contempt,” he grumbles. ”Or disrespect the younger. Or make assumptions about others. I’m going to have permanent cramp on my hand and ink stains on my fingers that will never come off from all this copying,” he whines. ”I haven’t even made it to the proper library yet!”

”…I’m probably going to regret this later but what do you mean by the proper library?” Jiang Cheng asks, turning to give him a narrow-eyed glare.

”The restricted section, of course! What else?”

Jiang Cheng sighs and looks like he’s either having a headache or he ate something bad. He looks like that a lot, Wei Wuxian muses. He probably should try to relax.

”Please, don’t try to access the restricted section of the Lan library without permission,” Jiang Cheng says through gritted teeth. 

”A-Cheng, do you think I’m an idiot?” Wei Wuxian despairs and then continues, ”Ah, no, don’t answer that. Of course I’m not trying accessing it without permission, I don’t actually want to die. The funeral would probably be incredibly dull and no alcohol! No, I’m trying to gain access.”

”How?” Nie Huaisang asks.

Wei Wuxian grins and tilts his head, suddenly fervently glad shijie isn’t there.

”No,” Jiang Cheng says in a flat voice.

”Yes,” Wei Wuxian says.

”A-Xian, no.”

”A-Xian, yes!”

”What?” Nie Huaisang asks, watching them with wide eyes, looking just slightly too amused to be as guileless as he probably wants everyone to think he is. 

The bright side of his punishments is that Wei Wuxian gets to spend more time with Lan Zhan (whom he refuses to call by his courtesy name to Jiang Cheng’s everlasting frustration). He enjoys trying to worm his way through the young alpha’s control, to get something else out of him other than the cool, nondescript scent of autumn rain. (Wei Wuxian is sure that scent is from the soap the Lan use to wash their robes.)

”Lan Zhan,” he says, peeking at the alpha from under his lashes. ”Lan Zhan, I’m so bored.” When he gets no answer, he tosses his brush on the table and scoots closer to drape himself over Lan Zhan’s desk. 

”Finish your work,” Lan Zhan says without looking up. He keeps his eyes on the paper in front of him, filling the space with slow, meticulous, impeccable writing.

”But I don’t want to,” Wei Wuxian whines. ”What’s the point of all these rules anyway? Do you really obey them all? No wonder Cloud Recesses is such a dull place.”

For a split moment, Lan Zhan’s hand stills before he continues with his writing. The pause is so short that if Wei Wuxian hadn’t been watching Lan Zhan like a hawk, he would’ve missed it. Wei Wuxian zeroes in on the reaction with a grin. Finally! 

”Ohh, does the Second Jade of Lan disobey rules?” He croons and waggles his brows. ”Tell me, what rules have you disobeyed? Wait, let me guess…” He stands up straight with a serious expression. ”Believe sincerely. Change clothes after taking a bath. Do not use frivolous words. No improper behavior—” 

Lan Zhan sighs. ”Finish your work,” he repeats without looking at Wei Wuxian.

”But I’d rather talk about breaking the rules with you,” Wei Wuxian pouts and grins when Lan Zhan gives him a completely unimpressed look. It makes something in his core shiver and without a second thought, Wei Wuxian reaches out, stretches delicate tendrils of his scent to Lan Zhan, and manages to brush his cheek. 

Lan Zhan’s lips part with a small, barely audible gasp and Wei Wuxian smells a soft wisp of sandalwood, warm and earthy and so, so good that he leans forward because he wants more. 

The desk under him creaks and Lan Zhan blinks, rears back with widening eyes. ”Shameless,” he hisses as he gets up and marches out of the library. Was it anyone else, Wei Wuxian would say he was running.

”Weird,” he mutters and shrugs, draws in a lungful of that delicious sandalwood scent and holds it for a moment before breathing it out. Then he clears up Lan Zhan’s desk, puts away his brush and inkstone, and organizes his papers in a neat stack, his mind already whirring with how to tease out more of that delicious sandalwood scent.

”What’s gotten into you?” Jiang Cheng snaps.

”Huh?” Wei Wuxian says and then shakes his head a bit to clear it. Oh, he’s been staring at the wall for long enough for his brush to drop ink all over his paper which means his assignment is now ruined and he has to rewrite it. ”Nothing,” he says and makes a face at the mess.

”Right,” Jiang Cheng says slowly. ”You keep zoning out and staring into nothing and you’re even more air-headed than usually, it’s like your mind is elsewhere—oh fuck, no.” He closes his eyes with a pained look. ”Why are you stinking the whole place up?”

”I’m not! Wei Wuxian says, indignant even though he realizes that’s exactly what he’s been doing. 

”I wonder who made A-Xian smell so happy,” shijie says with a small smile. She’s sitting on her bed, embroidering small lotuses with golden thread on a pale lilac silk scarf.

”What?” He squeaks. ”I don’t know what you’re talking about. 

Jiang Cheng groans. ”Aw, fuck. No.”

”There’s nothing to swear about!’” Wei Wuxian insists. 

”So, you haven’t been trailing Lang Wangji like a lovesick omega from one of those books Nie Huaisang likes to read?” Jiang Cheng asks dryly. ”And you haven’t been pining now that he’s been away.”

”No! I haven’t!” Wei Wuxian hurries to say. Then he bites his lip and continues, ”But…I haven’t seen him for over a week. I hope he’s alright.”

”Why wouldn’t he be?” Jiang Cheng asks, throwing his arms wide. ”He’s the Second Jade of Lan, he’s Lan Wangji, of course he’s alright because he’s always alright he’s a Lan, why are you like this?”

Wei Wuxian scowls. ”I was just wondering,” he mutters. ”No need to be so mean.”

”I wasn’t—why are—nngghhh!” 

With wide eyes, Wei Wuxian watches as Jiang Cheng stomps out of the room. ”What’s wrong with him?” He asks shijie. ”He’s even grumpier than normally.”

Jiang Yanli smiles like she knows something he doesn’t. It’s the kind of smile that would grate at Wei Wuxian on anyone else’s face but on shijie’s face, it just makes him feel warm. ”A-Cheng might have to come to terms with the fact that he isn’t the only alpha in your eyes,” she says.

”Huh?” Wei Wuxian says. ”Wait, no! That’s not what this is—noooo, shijie why are you like this too?”

Jiang Yanli laughs and Wei Wuxian flops down beside her, buries his head against her stomach, and wraps his arms around her. ”Why are you all so mean to me?” He mourns.

”Hush now,” shijie chides. She trails her fingers through his hair and it feels so good he almost feels like purring. Instead, he closes his eyes and relaxes, bathing them both in his happy, content scent.

Wei Wuxian doesn’t see Lan Zhan for ten days and it makes him seriously consider just asking Teacher Lan and demanding to know if the alpha’s alright. On the morning of the 11^th day, he’s vibrating with worry when he waits with the other visiting disciples for Teacher Lan to arrive when Lan Zhan walks to his desk and sits down. He looks gaunt and pale, worn in a way Wei Wuxian is sure he’s never seen him.

”Lan Zhan,” he whispers and when Lan Zhan doesn’t react, he whispers again, louder—and then hisses when Jiang Cheng yanks at his hair.

”Shut up!” Jiang Cheng hisses. 

”But—” Wei Wuxian begins and then snaps his mouth shut as Teacher Lan walks into the room. He concentrates (barely), even more distracted by Lan Zhan than he usually is. Something’s wrong and it annoys him to no end that he doesn’t know what. How can he fix what’s wrong if he doesn’t know what it is? His fidgeting earns him even more irate looks from Teacher Lan but because he answers all the questions correctly and in his worry doesn’t even antagonize him, Teacher Lan can’t exactly throw him out this time.

The class is barely dismissed when Lan Zhan pushes himself up and leaves and Wei Wuxian hurries to rush after him because he needs to know what happened to the alpha.

”Lan Zhan,” he calls. ”Wait! Lan Zhan!”

The alpha doesn’t wait or even slow down so Wei Wuxian shrugs and runs (because what’s one more broken Cloud Recesses rule at this point?), stumbling in front of Lan Zhan, holding his hands in front of him in a placating move.

”Ah, Lan Zhan,” he pants and grins. ”You really are making it hard to talk to you!”

Lan Zhan visibly grits his jaw as he stands completely still, staring into nothing over Wei Wuxian’s shoulder.

Wei Wuxian clicks his tongue and shakes his head. ”Lan Zhan, don’t be like this! Where have you been?” Without a second thought, he reaches out and pokes at him with his scent, the way he’s used to teasing shidi and shijie.

Lan Zhan’s eyes flash as he rears back. ”Stop it,” he hisses.

Wei Wuxian blinks. ”Stop what? Lan Zhan, don’t be silly, that’s nothing—”

”That was not nothing,” Lan Zhan snaps, face pale. ”You tried to control me again—you pushed your scent on me, uninvited, unwanted. How dare you.”

Again? Wei Wuxian wonders. ”Um,” he says with a sheepish chuckle. ”I’m sorry. I didn’t— Look, it’s just fun, nothing to get angry about. Like I said, it doesn’t mean anything.”

Something flickers across Lan Zhan’s face faster than Wei Wuxian can decipher and then his expression smoothes out into a placid, emotionless look. ”And yet, you chose to do it,” Lan Zhan says quietly and turns to walk past Wei Wuxian.

He doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want Lan Zhan to look so…empty. He doesn’t want Lan Zhan to walk away, so Wei Wuxian reaches out, tries to appeal to an angry, disappointed alpha as he does with Jiang Cheng—

”Wei Wuxian!” Teacher Lan suddenly barks from behind him. ”Control yourself!”

Startled, he whirls around with wide eyes, takes in Teacher Lan practically vibrating with rage and Zewu-Jun watching him with an unreadable expression. And there are others, too, watching with narrowed eyes and whispering among themselves even though gossiping is forbidden.

”I—” Wei Wuxian says.

Teacher Lan steps forward, clenching the fan in his hand so hard his knuckles are white. He looks angrier than Wei Wuxian has ever seen him and something about his posture makes Wei Wuxian brace for violence. He isn’t sure why, exactly, because Teacher Lan has never raised a hand on any of his students himself. But—

”Flaunting your scent in public,” Teacher Lan growls. ”Inappropriate. Taunting an unclaimed alpha, inappropriate—”

”Uncle—” Zewu-Jun tries to placate him.

”Harassing a classmate, inappropriate,” Teacher Lan continues, his voice lowering even more. ”Forcibly triggering a rut, unforgivable.”

”Uncle!”

”What?” Wei Wuxian asks weakly. ”No, I— I didn’t—” He turns around and Lan Zhan…Lan Zhan flinches away from him and walks away so fast he’s almost running. 

Wei Wuxian feels sick. He didn’t mean to— Forcing oneself on another is a despicable act and Wei Wuxian would never— He was just teasing— He doesn’t understand—

”Your presence is no longer welcome in Gusu, Wei Wuxian.”

He barely hears the words from the deafening sound of his whole world crashing down around him. 

What has he done?

He doesn’t talk to anyone. He gathers his belongings in dazed silence, avoids a-jie’s wide, stricken eyes and Jiang Cheng’s angry look, shrugs when Nie Huaisang asks if he’s alright. 

All he can think about are Teacher Lan’s words. Forcibly triggering a rut. So, that explains where Lan Zhan had been for ten days, and heavens, he wishes he hadn’t pushed for the information. He wishes he hadn’t pushed for… 

He wishes he hadn’t.

Teacher Lan and Zewu-Jun had left him standing there in shocked silence, surrounded by other disciples and gradually spreading murmurs. He’s pretty sure that the news of his disgrace will be all over the place by nightfall which means that not only will Lotus Pier hear about it but all the other sects will know soon as well.

Forcibly triggering a rut.

He swallows back bile as he hugs a-jie and shoots one, last look at Jiang Cheng staring resolutely out of the window. 

”I’ll write, every day,” A-jie promises, smoothing a lock of hair away from his face.

He gives her his best, widest smile and turns to go. He makes his way out alone, not because Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli didn’t want to see him off but because he told them not to. He is the one who lost face and disgraced their sect, so he’s the one who walks out of Cloud Recesses. Alone.

Nie Huaisang gives him a solemn nod from behind his fan as he walks past and then he’s out. The Cloud Recesses is as beautiful and quiet as usual but it feels almost oppressing, weighing down on his shoulders, pushing him toward the gate and out, out, out. He grits his teeth and stays upright even when his legs betray him and he stumbles. He’s changed back into his own dark robes and it makes him feel like a stain among the white Lan robes. In some way, it’s fitting—he is a stain, isn’t he?

For some reason, Zewu-Jun is waiting for him at the gate. He looks as calm as ever but there’s a strange tightness around his eyes Wei Wuxian can’t decipher. Not that he even wishes to or even looks at the older alpha in the eye long enough to begin. Why is the First Jade of Lan even there? To ensure he really leaves? To gently remind him to never come back? 

Indeed, Zewu-Jun opens his mouth when Wei Wuxian stops next to him but Wei Wuxian doesn’t give him a chance to speak. Instead, he bows deep and keeps his eyes respectfully lowered as he says, ”This one thanks for the hospitality shown to him. This one takes full responsibility for what happened and hopes his actions won’t affect how his sib—” He pauses and swallows. ”Won’t affect how the heirs of Yunmeng Jiang are treated.” 

From the corner of his eye, he sees a hand move and instinctually flinches to avoid a blow before he manages to curb his reaction down. The hand stops and slowly retreats but Wei Wuxian stays down until he hears a soft sigh.

”Very well,” Zewu-Jun says. 

He sounds troubled but Wei Wuxian is sure that’s just a delusion his foggy brain came up with. So, he rises from his bow, turns, and walks out, feeling Zewu-Jun’s eyes on him until the path curves and then…

Then it’s over.

It takes him two days to make his way back to Lotus Pier. He’s not stalling exactly, but he’d be lying if he claimed he wasn’t afraid. For the briefest of moments he considers running but then abandons the idea: while he’s lost any face he might have, he’s willing to accept any punishment Yu-furen sees fit to make sure shidi and shijie won’t suffer from his behavior. If it means he’ll be lashed with Zidian until his whole back is a bleeding mess, so be it.

He’s earned it, hasn’t he? 

It’s very late when he finally arrives at Lotus Pier. His home—his former? home—has already slowed down and a lazy quiet drifts over the buildings. A tired disciple hastily scrambles to open the gate as she sees Wei Wuxian approach, eyes wide. Wei Wuxian barely pays attention to her as she stammers she’ll notify Sect Leader Jiang and Madam Yu immediately, just nods, tired to the bone. He doesn’t dare to go into his old room but just kneels in the yard instead, waiting.

”Wei Wuxian!” Madam Yu snaps. ”What is the meaning of this?”

”We received a letter,” Jiang-shushu says. ”Are you aware of its content?”

Wei Wuxian nods.

”Speak up,” Madam Yu says. ”And look at us when you’re talking.”

He raises his head to look first at Jiang-shushu and then Madam Yu. ”I—” He swallows, squares his shoulders, and starts again. ”While at The Cloud Recesses, I acted inappropriately and forcibly triggered Lan Wangji’s rut. I didn’t mean it to happen but it did. I take full responsibility for my actions and accept any punishment you see fit.”

Everything is quiet for a moment. Then Jiang-shushu asks, ”Any punishment?” 

”Yes, Sect Leader Jiang.”

Jiang-shushu looks at Madam Yu who narrows her eyes at Wei Wuxian. ”Explain, how did you do it.”

Wei Wuxian blinks, opens his mouth, closes it, and opens it again. ”I…I don’t know, Yu-furen.”

”You don’t know,” she says slowly. 

”No,” he says and shakes his head. ”All I did—all I ever did was just…poke him?”

Madam Yu tilts her head slightly. ”Poke him,” she repeats. ”I see.” She glances at Jiang-shushu from the corner of her eye and something passes between them. ”You have dishonored the Jiang clan,” she finally says. ”You have acted inappropriately and caused shame on our sect. You have forgotten your place as the Head Disciple and as the ward of this family. For that, you will be stripped from the Head Disciple title and you shall receive three strikes with Zidian. Your punishment shall take place tomorrow after sunrise.”

”Yes, Yu-furen,” Wei Wuxian says and then stares, incredulous, as Madam Yu turns to leave. ”Wait,” he calls out. ”That’s it?”

Madam Yu raises a brow. ”I can whip you for a lot more if you want,” she says coolly. ”Do you?”

Shocked to silence, Wei Wuxian shakes his head and watches Madam Yu walk away.

”Wei Wuxian, get some sleep,” Jiang-shushu says quietly. When Wei Wuxian doesn’t move, he sighs. ”If you can’t sleep, at least go to your room.”

Wei Wuxian goes and doesn’t sleep a wink because nothing makes sense.

The next morning, he kneels in the training yard in his thin undershirt as Madam Yu delivers three lashes with Zidian in full force. He takes the first two without a word but the third strike wraps around his throat and licks its way across his back, lighting his whole back on fire. He stumbles and catches himself with his hands, coughing up blood as Zidian crackles one, last time and then retreats back to Madam Yu’s finger. The Jiang disciples watch in silence as their former Head Disciple gasps for breath before he slowly pushes himself back to the proper kneeling pose.

He hears a huff from behind him and then retreating steps as Madam Yu leaves the training yard.

Wei Wuxian still doesn’t understand.

He gathers himself and slowly makes his way back to his room. He’s lightheaded from the pain and it feels like Zidian left bits of itself behind and they zip along his spine and down his arms, making him twitch ever so slightly. He rummages around his things for the leftover jar of healing salve he knows he left behind and lathers his back as well as he’s able.

And then, he slumps on the bed, leaning his head on his hands.

He has no idea what to do next. He has no idea why he’s still allowed in his room. He fully expected to be whipped and then kicked out—he’s a son of a servant who disgraced his sect and adoptive family, there’s no reason why he should still be allowed in Lotus Pier but he is and he doesn’t understand why. He sort of wants to cry but at the same time he feels wiped out and numb.

He knows that sooner or later, he has to meditate on what he’s done. How he violated Lan Zhan. The mere thought makes him reel and he presses the palms of his hands into his eyes so hard he sees stars but it doesn’t help because he still feels like puking.

Slowly, he keels to his side, still pressing his hands to his eyes. The motion pulls at the fresh wounds on his back and throat and for a moment, all he can do is concentrate on breathing through the pain.

The next time he opens his eyes, Madam Yu is sitting on a stool next to his bed. The light is different which means he somehow fell asleep. He still feels groggy and barely bites back a sharp hiss of pain as he shoots to sit up. He only has his thin undershirt on but Madam Yu doesn’t seem to be bothered by it.

”Show me how you ’poked’ Lan Wangji,” Madam Yu says.

”I—what?” Wei Wuxian says and immediately continues with, ”My apologies, Yu-furen, I don’t understand.”

Madam Yu sighs like he’s being purposefully slow. ”You said all you did was that you ’poked’ Lan Wangji. Show me. Poke me.” When Wei Wuxian doesn’t react, she rolls her eyes and snaps, ”Get on with it, I don’t have all day.”

With a nod, Wei Wuxian reaches out and gets effectively slapped aside.

”Again,” Madam Yu says. 

He does.

Madam Yu slaps him aside and says, ”Again.”

After a couple of tries, he gets frustrated and instead of reaching, he tries to slash.

”Better,” Madam Yu says. ”Again.” Then she gives him a flat look. ”You clearly know by now that what you tried with Lan Wangji won’t work with me. So do what you pride yourself at: improvise.”

Wei Wuxian takes a deep breath and bites his lip. Improvise. Okay. He can do that.

What follows is the strangest training session of his life. They sit facing each other, silent except for Madam Yu’s curt commands. Wei Wuxian loses himself in the dance, switching between reaching out, poking, slashing, tickling…anything he can think of. Madam Yu slaps his attempts aside with casual ease and when he starts to tire and tremble, she looks mostly bored. In the end, his frustration mounts and he slams at Madam Yu, sees her sway as her eyes go wide, and then he promptly slips down from the bed.

”You aren’t hopeless,” Madam Yu says grudgingly.

”Thank you, Yu-furen,” Wei Wuxian slurs from the floor.

She pinches her lips together and lets out an annoyed huff of air. ”You didn’t forcibly trigger Lan Wangji’s rut. You don’t know how.” She gives him a long look. ”The Lan alphas start training at a very young age and they cultivate their control at least as diligently as they cultivate their cores. They like to claim they aren’t like other alphas but deep within, they are. The only way you could’ve triggered his rut is simply because you and he are exceptionally compatible.” Something dark passes over her face and Zidian sparks. ”Which is a thing Lan Qiren knows,” she spits.

”I don’t understand,” Wei Wuxian says slowly.

Madam Yu gives him a withering look. ”Please don’t play stupid, Wei Wuxian. I know you’re more clever than that. Lan Qiren wanted you out of Gusu. You triggered Lan Wangji on accident but it was natural because forcing someone into a rut or heat takes more than mere scent. Lan Qiren might have some outdated beliefs about omegas in general but he’s also operating through a past trauma of watching a member of his family being triggered. Truly triggered.” 

She sighs. ”What happened, happened. Your actions, no matter how unintentional, disgraced you and brought shame on our clan. This we cannot overlook. You are no longer the Head Disciple of Yunmeng Jiang. Officially, you are no longer our ward, nor are you privy to call Wanyin or Yanli your siblings. Your room will be cleared out and turned into a study.

”However,” she continues slowly, watching him like a hawk. ”You shall remain as a member of the sect. On one condition.”

Wei Wuxian stares at her for a moment. ”What condition?”

”You will leave,” Madam Yu says. ”You will travel as a rogue cultivator, never mentioning Yunmeng Jiang’s name or claiming to still be a part of the sect. You will go where I send you and complete tasks I give you but otherwise, you’re free to travel and work as you see fit. I will provide you with money, talisman paper, and travel rations but otherwise you have the responsibility to provide for yourself.”

”Um,” Wei Wuxian says and slowly climbs up from the floor and sits on the bed. Madam Yu looks completely calm and her eyes are flinty as usual and he can read absolutely nothing about her expression. ”Do I have a choice?”

”Of course you do,” Madam Yu says, almost amused. ”You can leave, you will lose the security of our sect, and work as a true rogue cultivator.”

”I see,” he says and drops his gaze to his hands on his lap. 

His back hurts. His throat hurts. He still feels like he needs to twitch with Zidian’s residual energy singing through him. But for the first time since Lan Qiren threw him out of Gusu, his mind isn’t in a complete shock. Madam Yu clearly wants him for something—as a spy perhaps? He’s always assumed there’s more to her than meets the eye. Not only is she way more powerful than Jiang-shushu, but there’s also the way she holds herself, how she travels every now and then without telling anyone what she does or where she goes, how she always seems to know more than she lets on. And now she’s offering him a peek at that world. Why? 

Perhaps he’s just expendable.

”May I ask questions?” He asks.

Madam Yu snorts. ”You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t,” she says dryly.

”Um, yes, Yu-furen,” he says with a pained smile. ”May I keep in contact with shi— I mean, Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli? Or with Nie Huaisang of the Qinghe Nie?” 

”I have absolutely no interest in who your friends are or what you do with your free time,” Madam Yu says, sounding almost annoyed. ”You can keep in contact with Wanyin and Yanli if they allow it but I expect…discretion if you wish to visit. You do understand that from now on, you can’t just walk in through the front door as you have so far?”

”I understand,” Wei Wuxian says and takes a deep breath. ”I accept your offer. Thank you, Yu-furen.”

An almost smug smile touches the corner of Madam Yu’s lips and then it’s gone. ”Very well. You may stay in this room for two more days and then I expect it to be cleared out. You will be provided with new accommodations and you can rest there until your back has healed.” She stands up, smooths her robes, and turns to go.

”Oh, one more thing, Yu-furen,” Wei Wuxian says, ”if I may?”

Madam Yu stops but doesn’t turn to look at him. ”Yes?”

”I was wondering… You said I don’t know how to trigger Lan Zhan—or anyone else. How would you know that?”

Madam Yu turns slowly with a gentle smile on her face. It chills him to the bone and he’s suddenly extremely conscious how the only way out of the room is behind the Yunmeng Jiang omega matron.

”I know,” she says mildly, ”because I haven’t taught you that. Yet.”

”Dear A-Xian,

I hope that this letter finds you in good health and spirit. A-Cheng and I are doing well: we are approaching the last examinations of our stay and after that, we’ll be returning home.

The Cloud Recesses has been so quiet without you, A-Xian! I miss you and I know I’m not the only one. A-Cheng misses you, too, even though he wouldn’t admit it outright. But you know how he is. Young Master Nie misses you as well and sends you his regards. He says he’s written you a couple of times already but hasn’t received any reply. He considers you a friend so I hope you’ll write him back as soon as you can.

The strangest thing happened yesterday when I was talking a walk outside with Lady Wen and Young Master Wen—they’re both very nice despite all the talk about their clan. Lady Wen has vast medical knowledge and Young Master Wen is a skillful archer. I think you’d like them both. But like I said, we were walking when we heard someone ask (quite loud and rude) if, and I quote, ”You’re happy Wei Wuxian is gone.” When we peeked around the bushes, I saw The Second Jade of Lan, Lan Wangji! I don’t know who asked the question, but Lady Wen said their robes had a golden trim (and, no, before you ask, it wasn’t Young Master Jin). Young Master Lan’s face was impassive but his voice was firm when he replied simply, ”No.” The other tried to ask something more but Young Master Lan interrupted them by reminding them that speaking about others behind their back is forbidden. And then he walked away.

I’m not sure what to think of that but I believe you’d want to know. Whatever happened between you, A-Xian, I’ sure he doesn’t think ill of you. 

No, don’t make that face, XianXian. And don’t make that face, either.

I promise I’ll cook a big pot of lotus and pork rib soup just for you when I get home.

Your shijie

(Oh, A-Cheng wanted to write something to you again. I keep telling him you’d like a letter from him also but he scoffed and grumbled and wanted to add his thoughts here, as usual.)

Wei Wuxian,

Why the fuck aren’t you writing back? A-jie is sad. You fucking better be alive and present when we come home in a month or so.

- Jiang Cheng”

If he’s being honest, being a rogue cultivator isn’t that bad. Or, yes, it is in the sense that he sleeps outside more often than not and he can’t just buy stuff on a whim because he doesn’t have much money but he has the security of knowing that if something goes terribly wrong, he still has the support of the clan behind him. Sure, it’s subtle and he can’t shout it from the rooftops but it’s there. The knowledge itself is enough.

Which still doesn’t mean he isn’t alone. Because he is. He travels alone, he night-hunts alone, he goes where the chaos is. It means he has to be careful and actually learn (and respect) his limits because if he gets too cocky, he’ll die which…well, probably would make shijie cry and he doesn’t want to do that.

But he gets to be creative! He gets to dance with his sword and come up with new talismans on the fly and it’s exhilarating to realize just how much he can do. He gets to fight ghosts and monsters and on one, memorable occasion, a demon that howled like a storm and shot poisonous darts at him. He’d never pushed himself as far as he did then and was exhausted for a week after finally killing it. (Madam Yu’s face was as impassive as ever as he handed her the poison darts he collected but he got a grudgingly approving nod as thanks so…it was worth it.) 

Once a month, after sending a coded note to inform Madam Yu of his arrival, he returns to Lotus Pier to give her his report and deliver messages, items he collected as per her requests, and anything else he feels like she would appreciate (see, the poison darts). He spends the night in a small side cabin barely inside Lotus Pier perimeter, refills his two qiankun pouches with necessities, and sleeps a whole night in a bed made with his pillow and blanket. He receives new assignments and before he departs again, he gives Madam Yu the letters he’s written since his last visit. (He never receives even one letter and he’s pretty sure none of his letters make it to their recipients but…well. It is what it is.)

Sometimes, she sends him out with a qiankun pouch and tells him to deliver it to a certain place or person. Sometimes, she hands him a piece of paper and orders him to wait in that location and relay to her everything he hears. Sometimes, she just sends him on his way and tells him to poke people and see if they notice. He isn’t sure what game Madam Yu is playing but he knows he’s being tested. So, he does as he’s asked and wishes someone to tell him the rules sooner rather than later.

The scars on his back slowly turn from fiery red to pink lines that run along his skin like bolts of lightning. In a twisted sort of way, he appreciates them: when the time comes, Zidian will go to Jiang Cheng but Wei Wuxian will also carry it with him for the rest of his life. He would be happier if the pain went away but he’s learned to live with it. Mostly. Although he isn’t sure how much of his back pain is because of the scars and how much is because of the rocks and roots he’s forced to sleep on. Yes, he has travel bedding in his pouch but it’s not the same as a real bed.

Every now and then, he sees a flash of white Lan robes from the corner of his eye and it never fails to make his heart race. He refuses to examine these feelings closer and stays out of their way instead. Cultivators tend to overlook common people, and with his travel-worn clothes and his sword tucked into his qiankun sleeve, Wei Wuxian looks like a commoner. 

(Curiously enough, Madam Yu never sends him to Gusu. Wei Wuxian decides to be fervently grateful and never asks her why.)

At this particular time, Wei Wuxian arrives at the Lotus Pier cabin very late, silent on his feet as he slips inside. There’s the standard assortments of travel rations, clean clothes, small pouches of medicinal herbs, money, and talisman paper waiting for him on the bed, and a covered tray sits on the table. Even without looking, he knows it was brought with an active heating talisman to keep the food hot. He eats, unpacks his pouches to do inventory, and packs everything ready to go. He washes the dishes and stacks everything nice and proper on the table for the servant—or more likely either Jinzhu or Yinzhu since his presence is generally a secret—to pick up after he’s gone. He pours out the dirty water and brings fresh in for the morning and then he sits down and writes his letters before bed. 

When he sleeps, he doesn’t dream.

He wakes up when a warning talisman he placed a short distance from the door activates. It gives him just enough time to sit up on the bed when Madam Yu steps in without knocking.

”Good morning, Yu-furen,” he says, stands up, and bows.

”Hide the warning talisman better next time,” she says as a greeting and closes the door behind her, leaving Jinzhu and Yinzhu on guard in their usual positions. 

”Yes, Yu-furen,” Wei Wuxian says and doesn’t point out that she didn’t find all of them. Something about his voice must tip her off because she gives him a sharp look before sitting down.

”Speak,” she says.

Wei Wuxian gives his report back straight, hands behind his back, clad only in his red underrobe. The first couple of times he’d felt uncomfortable but by this point, they both ignore it: Madam Yu doesn’t care and Wei Wuxian has long since learned to compartmentalize. 

She lets out a noncommittal sound and then asks, ”Was there anything else or are you ready to head out?”

He nods. ”That’s all, Yu-furen. And yes.”

She tilts her head and gives him a thoughtful look. ”You will head East to Zhoushan Zhao. Sect Leader Zhao asked for assistance with a disturbance at the coast.”

Wei Wuxian purses his lips. ”Zhoushan Zhao…should I know about them? Are they a rising minor clan?”

Madam Yu nods. ”Yes, the Zhao clan is rather young. They have a common background not that different from Qinghe Nie. Sailors and fishermen, originally.”

”Ah,” Wei Wuxian hums. ”But shouldn’t they be able to deal with coastal disturbance? Why would they need help from Lotus Pier?”

Madam Yu raises a brow. ”They’re said to be skilled and hardworking people and the rumor says that they’re aiming to participate in a Cultivation conference in the next couple of years. They have…” she quirks her lip, ”aspirations.”

”Is that just a fancy way to say they’re trying to elevate their status via alliances?” Wei Wuxian asks bluntly.

”Yes,” Madam Yu says. ”Your job is to determine if the rumors are true.”

”Yes, Yu-furen. Anything you want me to deliver?”

”Not this time,” she says and stands to leave. Wei Wuxian steps aside and bows but freezes when she stops next to him and says, ”A-Cheng and A-Li are coming home soon. You can stay longer the next time.”

He swallows and bows deeper. ”Thank you, Yu-furen.”

He stays standing long after she’s gone, fighting back a grin. He’s finally going to see shijie again! And A-Cheng! He has so much to tell them, what he’s done and where he’s been—with discretion, of course. He doesn’t need Madam Yu pointing out how most of the things he’s done for her aren’t perhaps things he could (or even should) share with his siblings. 

But finally, after almost a year, he’ll get to hug shijie and punch Jiang Cheng in the arm.

This time, he leaves Yunmeng with a light heart and a smile on his lips.

Storm Peak is a keep that seems to rise straight out of the rock bed. Its sturdy walls gleam in the early morning sun and the slight drizzle of ever-present saltwater glimmers on its surface like crystals. It reminds Wei Wuxian of the Nie residence but where the Unclean Realm is intentionally imposing, Storm Peak looks homey. It’s like a weathered old crow hunkering down on a rock and enduring the elements by sheer stubbornness. It’s curiously endearing. 

Wei Wuxian smiles as he lands at a cliff overlooking the keep and the sea and breathes in deep the sharp, clear sea air. He sheaths his sword and walks to the gate where two guards watch him with calm eyes and a relaxed pose. He stops at a respectful distance and bows low. 

”This one is Wei Wuxian, here to meet Sect Leader Zhao as per his request,” he says.

”Welcome, Young Master Wei,” the older guard, a gruff beta says and nods. ”We’ve been expecting you. Please, this way.”

Slightly bemused (but not in the least bit offended) by the relaxed greeting, Wei Wuxian grins and walks into the keep. The inside of the structure goes well with the outside, amplifying the feeling of this being a home and a shelter first and a sect residence second. As they walk, Wei Wuxian doesn’t hold back his curiosity, asking questions and pointing at things that pique his interest. The guard answers all his questions, mostly with short, no-nonsense comments. He likes it but can’t help a feeling that he’s being scrutinized. It’s not hostile but it’s definitely the kind that takes stock.

…He’s sort of starting to suspect the reason why he’s here.

The guard escorts him to a comfortable study, bows, and goes back to his post. Wei Wuxian looks around, curious, takes in the sturdy desk and the assortment of books and scrolls. The space is clearly well-loved and in regular use, and if the topics of the books are anything to go by, knowledge is valued. He picks up a random book from the side table and leafs through it and soon loses himself in the diagrams and calculations of what seems to be of comparing different types of sails with the speed and agility of the vessel. It’s fascinating, and his mind jumps to puzzle the presented options. He emerges from his fugue when someone clears their throat in the room—and it sounds like they’ve been trying to get his attention for a while.

”Uh, sorry!” Wei Wuxian says as he turns around to face a young alpha disciple. ”This was really interesting—I don’t know anything about sailing or ships but…” He stops and shakes his head and flashes the disciple a sheepish smile. ”Sorry.”

The disciple inclines her head and smiles. ”There’s no need to apologize, Young Master Wei. Learning about new things is something our sect enjoys.” She sets down a tray with a pot of tea and a plate of an assortment of what he guesses are local treats and bows to him.

Wei Wuxian sets the book down, bows, and sits. The disciple pours him a cup of dark, fragrant tea and then kneels back and gives him a politely expectant look. Slightly bemused, Wei Wuxian takes a sip; the tea is strong and full of flavor but not in an overbearing way. It’s not bitter, either, but smoky, and when he swallows, it leaves a faint aroma of tar lingering on his tongue. Interesting. He takes another sip, tilts his head, and then nods and drinks the rest.

”Is the tea acceptable, Young Master Wei?” The disciple asks.

Wei Wuxian smiles at her and lets out a small sliver of his happy scent. ”It’s delicious! Is it a local blend or do you import it somewhere?”

The disciple blushes and ducks her head. ”The tea is called Stormy Sea, Young Master Wei. It’s a local blend.” She pours him another cup.

Wei Wuxian hums and  drinks. ”The aftertaste… if I may be so bold, is it perhaps a nod at Zhoushan Zhao’s humble origins?”

”Young Master Wei is indeed very perceptive,” the disciple says. ”The tea is fermented near the shipyard where we tar our ships.” She stands up and bows. ”Is there anything else Young Master would require?”

”No, thank you,” Wei Wuxian says and releases another small trickle of happiness.

”In that case, this disciple will take her leave. Sect Leader Zhao will be with you shortly.” She bows again and exits the room, closing the doors behind her.

Wei Wuxian cocks his head. 

A rather interesting decision, leaving an unofficial representative of a major sect alone in what seems to be the sect leader’s study. Is the sect truly this informal and easy-going or is this is some kind of a test? If yes, are they testing Yunmeng Jiang or Wei Wuxian? He turns slightly to hide his hand and casts a discreet spell to check if he’s being spied on but can detect absolutely nothing. 

He sips his tea and samples the food. It’s simple but nourishing, bits of dried and pickled fish and vegetables and small, sweet cakes with nuts and tart berries. He picks up a couple of cakes and his tea and walks to the back of the room where the wide panel doors open to a balcony overlooking the sea. He pushes the panels fully open and steps to the balcony to enjoy the weather and the scenery. 

The yard below is bustling with activity, reminding him of home so viscerally that for a moment, it gets hard to breathe. He swallows and looks up across the sea and loses himself on the hazy horizon. He spies several ships but can’t identify their type. He probably could if he took the book to the balcony with him but he lets his curiosity wane and enjoys the crisp wind instead. It’s nice to just let himself be for a moment.

The sound of an opening door jolts him back to himself. He turns to see an older alpha with a weather-worn face, laughter lines around his eyes, and scent like an impending storm. He has a no-nonsense feel about him and he takes Wei Wuxian in with a narrow-eyed look that seems to miss very little. 

”I apologize for the wait, Young Master Wei,” Sect Leader Zhao says. ”I hope the refreshments were to your liking.”

Wei Wuxian bows and toasts with his empty cup. ”Very much so, Sect Leader Zhao. I find especially your tea very enjoyable.”

Sect Leader Zhao inclines his head. ”I’ll make sure to add a package to take home, if you would like.”

”Thank you,” Wei Wuxian says with a wide, genuine smile. ”I’d like that.”

After a couple of more polite sentences, Sect Leader motions Wei Wuxian to step back to the balcony. ”We have had a sudden influx of strange drownings along the coast but we haven’t quite been able to figure out why.”

Wei Wuxian raises a brow and nods at the sea spreading behind the walls of the keep. ”You probably are aware of a wide variety of water demons due to your close proximity to the sea,” he says.

”Indeed we are,” Sect Leader Zhao agrees. ”Which is why I’m asking you to assist my son on a night-hunt. Just to make sure we’ve covered everything. Having the skilled Yunmeng Jiang Head Disciple as a part of the group is a great opportunity to learn.”

Oh, Wei Wuxian muses. He’s sending me out with his son? Aloud, he huffs a small laugh and bows. ”This one is honored by the praise but unfortunately Sect Leader Zhao has been…misinformed. This one is merely a servant, not the Head Disciple of the Jiang Sect.”

Sect Leader Zhao gives him a dry look. ”I know exactly who you are, Young Master Wei. And while you may not be the Head Disciple anymore, my son is honored to go on a night-hunt with you.”

”And you are fine with it?” Wei Wuxian feels he needs to ask.

Sect Leader Zhao straightens his posture and beckons with his head, asking Wei Wuxian to follow. The balcony circles around the building and the view is impressive. On the yard, disciples practice sword forms and in the distance, Wei Wuxian sees a fleet of smaller ships—fishing boats? Most likely, yes. 

Everything feels peaceful and homey, not unlike Lotus Pier. 

”I am aware of the rumors surrounding your departure from The Cloud Recesses,” Sect Leader Zhao says calmly as they slowly walk on. ”On a map, we are close to Gusu Lan but our spiritual differences set us apart. Quite a lot, in fact.” He turns to look at Wei Wuxian. ”So, when I say my son is honored to go on a night-hunt with you, it means that my son, the Zhoushan Zhao heir, is honored to host as highly skilled visiting cultivator as Young Master Wei.”

…really? Wei Wuxian wonders but bows politely all the same.

The night-hunt itself goes without a hitch. It doesn’t take him long to realize the disappearances are caused by The White Cloth Demon, a rather common pest the Zhoushan Zhao should be more than well versed to dispose of. However, Young Master Zhao, a polite alpha with mischief in his eyes, lets Wei Wuxian deal with the demon, asks insightful questions about the talismans he uses, and compliments him on his swordplay. As fun as it is to night-hunt with others again, Wei Wuxian can’t help but feel he’s being not-so-subtly checked out. 

Considering how he’s been treated since he arrived, he has to wonder if Sect Leader Zhao is seriously considering him as a mate for his son? It’s a bold move that would’ve been absolutely out of the question before Gusu but now… As Wei Wuxian washes up and changes to clean robes for the dinner, he finds himself wondering. What little he’s seen of the Zhoushan Zhao and how the cultivators interact with commoners, he likes what he sees. They’re humble people who don’t let their humble origins hold them back, who respect knowledge and the drive to learn and cultivate. They’re hardworking and…well, Young Master Zhao is easy on the eyes and he had no qualms to let Wei Wuxian take control of the night-hunt. (He tries to ignore the voice in the back of his head that points out how Zhao Donghai can’t compare to Lan Zhan. It’s an unfair opinion since nothing compares to Lan Zhan.)

During the dinner, Sect Leader Zhao and his wife—another alpha, to Wei Wuxian’s pleasant surprise—interview him quite thoroughly. And then Sect Leader Zhao politely asks if Wei Wuxian would be amenable to accept an official courting request from the sect heir.

”I’m truly honored, Sect Leader Zhao, Young Master Zhao,” Wei Wuxian says and bows low as he carefully thinks how to phrase his refusal. ”It is truly above anything I would’ve ever imagined being offered to me, considering my past.” He pauses before continuing, slower, ”However, I must decline because, for the time being, my allegiances aren’t mine to decide. I hope Sect Leader Zhao doesn’t take this as a slight against his sect because it definitely isn’t that. Frankly, I find Storm Peak an interesting place and the Zhoushan Zhao honest and respectable people. In some other situation, I could see myself being happy here.”

Sect Leader Zhao raises his hand in a placating move. ”Not to worry, Young Master Wei. To be honest, we expected this to be your answer. But our offer was and is a genuine one.” He leans forward slightly. ”You are a masterful cultivator, Young Master Wei, and any Sect would be honored to have you.” He shrugs and gives Wei Wuxian a wry smile. ”We are a young sect with very humble origins,” he says. ”We value competence and skill far higher than one’s upbringing or…other trivialities.”

Wei Wuxian inclines his head.

They spend the rest of the dinner in relaxed conversation and after, they play a couple of rounds of weiqi which Wei Wuxian wins almost without realizing. Sect Leader Zhao laughs his embarrassment away and merely thanks him for the entertaining evening before he and his wife retire for the night.

Young Master Zhao walks him to his room. ”Young Master Wei,” he says as Wei Wuxian turns to open the door. ”If I may…I enjoyed night-hunting with you. The courting—the idea came from my father but I would’ve been honored if—I mean, I’m not trying to question your—” He ducks his head and a slight blush creeps over his cheeks. ”Thank you for your visit. My family and I would like to make it clear that if Young Master Wei ever finds himself in this area again, he’s more than welcome to our hospitality. For as long as he wishes.”

”Thank you, Young Master Zhao,” Wei Wuxian says hiding his amusement at the young alpha’s stuttering. ”I will remember that.” He bows and Young Master Zhao bows back, and then he retires to his room.

As he settles down for the night, he goes through everything Sect Leader Zhao, his wife, and his son said during his stay, dissecting every interaction for patterns and hidden meanings. The sect is organized, ambitious, but at the same time very down-to-earth. Proposing to Wei Wuxian was a bold move he didn’t see coming, both because of the incident in Gusu and because even as a ward, his social standing was higher than Young Master Zhao’s. If Madam Yu accepted, it would still mean a lot to a minor sect trying to make their name known. On one hand, it’s endearing, on the other hand, it was ballsy and Wei Wuxian can’t help but feel impressed.

He liked his stay at Storm Peak and, if things were different, he might even be inclined to stay for good. But because things are as they are, well… 

Madam Yu has a plan for him. Wei Wuxian is sure of that. He doesn’t know what she’s waiting for but until she says otherwise, he’s going to keep on working and go where she points him.

He’s on his way back to Lotus Pier when strong winds force him to land near Ezhou. He finds an inn and has barely settled down for a drink when he sees a flash of white from the corner of his eye and freezes. A small group of Lan disciples walk in and head straight to the innkeeper. Carefully, Wei Wuxian leans forward to peer at them and lets out a small breath of relief when he sees Lan Zhan isn’t among them. Not that he would care. It would just be…awkward to be in the same room. That’s all.

He downs his wine and signals the waiter for another bottle. The wine here is surprisingly good; strong and sweet with a bit of burn that kicks in after he’s swallowed and he’s entertaining the idea of taking a couple of bottles home as souvenirs. 

”So…you don’t look like you’re from around here,” a deep voice says. Wei Wuxian glances up and sees an older alpha with ruddy cheeks and a glint in his eye. ”We don’t usually get lone omegas in here.”

Wei Wuxian stifles a sigh. One of those, then. ”I’m just passing through, not going to stay,” he says and then adds, pointedly, ”Have a good night, sir.”

The alpha snorts. ”We can have a good night, sure. Let me buy you a drink.”

”No, thank you,” Wei Wuxian says with a tight smile. He sees another flash of white and without his permission, finds his gaze drawn to the door. And there, surveying the room, is Lan Zhan. 

Shit. Wei Wuxian’s smile slowly withers away.

”What, isn’t my drink good enough for you?” The alpha asks snidely and sneers when Wei Wuxian takes a long pull from the new bottle.

”Please, leave,” Wei Wuxian says. ”I’d like to just drink in peace before I leave.”

The alpha opens his mouth to say something and then snaps it shut and visibly cowers. Even before turning, Wei Wuxian knows whom he’ll see.

”Lan Zhan! What a coincidence,” he says with a fake cheer.

Lan Zhan is right there, staring at him and the intensity in his eyes makes Wei Wuxian feel somehow dirty. He’s painfully aware of the dust in his robes and the way his hair is an unkempt mess.

”Wei Ying,” he says and frowns. ”What are you doing here?”

Right.

”Leaving, apparently,” Wei Wuxian says, suddenly tired to the bone. He was having a decent night up to the creepy alpha but now, it’s officially ruined. Resigned to lose the money he already paid for his room, he pushes himself up and sways which is odd because he definitely didn’t drink enough to be unsteady on his feet.

”Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan says again, reaching out to—what, stop him? Steady him? Wei Wuxian doesn’t know and he doesn’t care. He grabs the bottle, nods at the waiter, and walks out, brushing past Lan Zhan.

The air is cool and clears his head a bit. He’s still feeling weird, slightly sluggish and dizzy but he figures it’s because he’s tired and because he didn’t exactly expect to see Lan Zhan. Shock can make a man stumble, right? 

But then he stumbles so hard he almost falls and the world starts spinning. As if by luck, he nearly collides with a wall and slumps against it. The world is spinning and he’s burning and—

Oh no… He knows this feeling.

He’s going into heat and fast. It makes zero sense because first of all, he gets heats only twice a year, and second, he’s on strong suppressants because he’s not an idiot. Which means he’s been drugged.

Fuck.

”Oh my,” someone rumbles, and he looks up to see the creepy alpha slowly walks to him. ”It seems like you’re not leaving after all.”

Wei Wuxian is many things but not this. Not some nameless, faceless raped omega on a side alley. ”Eat shit and die,” he growls and slams the alpha with a binding talisman. It throws him across the street and Wei Wuxian lets his head drop back with a thunk. His heart is beating so fast it feels like it’s trying to jump out of his chest and he can’t seem to get enough air in his lungs but at least the creep is gone.

”Wei Ying.”

How is Lan Zhan here already? Again? 

”You shouldn’t be here,” Lan Zhan says. His voice is clipped and he turns his head away like he’s trying to avoid being hit by Wei Wuxian’s scent which, tough luck, he shouldn’t have come out if Wei Wuxian’s scent offends him so much. Which is sad because Lan Zhan’s scent drifts over, the delicious sandalwood scent that makes Wei Wuxian want to curl up and purr and bathe in it until all he can smell is Lan Zhan.

Lan Zhan lets out a sharp gasp and Wei Wuxian’s eyes dart up. The alpha stands still, arms on his sides with his hands clenched into fists, eyes wide and mouth just slightly open. He twitches slightly like he wants to take a step closer to Wei Wuxian and seems to catch himself, frowns, and steps hurriedly back.

Something Wei Wuxian doesn’t want to think too closely twists in his core and he turns to leave, to get away from the alpha who finds his presence so unlikeable. He manages perhaps half a dozen steps before he stumbles again, only to be caught by Lan Zhan.

The alpha yanks him up using slightly too much force and Wei Wuxian crashes against his chest. It’s firm and wide and smells amazing and he just wants to press his face to the smooth, white robe and sink into the cloud of sandalwood, surrounded by those strong arms that hold him so close and—

Feeling drunk, he looks up into eyes that show only thin golden rings around dilated pupils. Lan Zhan’s lips are so close and his breath puffs against Wei Wuxian’s face and— 

Soft lips press against his own, first tentative and then forceful, claiming, possessing him. He lets out a small sound and opens up, lets the alpha in and it’s glorious and he whines because he wants more and—

Then the alpha tears away, stumbles back, and stares at him with eyes wide with horror. Lan Zhan stares at him with horror and Wei Wuxian feels sick and—

He swallows and draws Suibian out. It wobbles in the air but it holds his weight as he climbs on it and it feels like part of him is dying and he can’t see because his eyes are blurry but it doesn’t matter because he needs to get away he needs to fly he needs to be safe and home and not there because Lan Zhan looks at him with horror in his eyes and it hurts and—

He flies. He pushes himself and Suibian to go faster, to stay in the air, to fly home. He sways but manages to keep his balance, flies the last part almost blind, and finally crashes into Lotus Pier. He hasn’t entered through the front gate since he was thrown out from Gusu but he doesn’t think, he doesn’t plan, all he wants is to be safe so he practically drops from the sky, triggering the wards. He lies there, shivering and twitching as he’s surrounded by Jiang Disciples, swords drawn and talismans at the ready. 

”A-Xian!” someone gasps and rushes to his side. 

Shijie. 

It’s her, with her gentle voice and gentle hands and Wei Wuxian feels like crying and he is crying because shijie is here and—

”A-Xian, what happened? Are you alright?” She asks urgently, cradles his burning cheek in her palm, and holds a cool hand against his forehead.

”I am now,” he whispers with a wobbly smile.

And then the heat takes over and swallows him whole.

He doesn’t know how long he swims in the thick, syrupy fever dream. He aches and cries and moans and ruts and longs for something he doesn’t quite understand but that hurts so much he can’t breathe. At times, he’s aware of a soothing voice singing lullabies and gentle hands wiping his sweaty face but when he tries to reach out for them, all he feels is heat, the burning need, and the loss of something he didn’t know he wanted.

When it’s finally over, he surfaces wrung out, tired to the bone and weak as a kitten. It scares him because his heats have never been like this. They shouldn’t be like this. He’s desperately glad he made it to Lotus Pier because if he’d succumbed to the heat out there… Well. He would’ve most likely died. Or worse.

The first time he surfaces, he stays awake barely long enough to gulp down two cups of water and a bowl of broth, and then he’s out again. The second time, he wakes up in fresh sheets and in a clean under robe even though his hair is still matted and sweat-brittle.

Madam Yu is sitting by his bed and when she realizes Wei Wuxian is awake, Zidian sparkles.

”What happened?” She grits out. ”And where?”

Wei Wuxian doesn’t quite meet her eye. ”Nothing happened, Yu-furen. I didn’t bring shame to this house.”

”That’s not what I asked,” she snaps, then closes her eyes and visibly reins herself in. ”Something happened. Tell me what and where. If it was the Zhoushan Zhao—”

”No! They were completely respectable!” Wei Wuxian yelps. ”I was on my way back from Storm Peak and had to stop in Ezhou because of the winds,” he continues, slower. He describes the inn and the patrons, the wine and the bottle it was served in, the arrival of the Lan disciples, and the creepy alpha. He hangs his head in shame as he admits how distracted he was when Lan Zhan appeared. ”That must be when the alpha doused my drink,” he says and makes a face. ”A rookie mistake. Stupid,” he mutters, angry at himself. ”Anyway, as soon as I walked out, I realized something wasn’t right. The alpha followed me but I slammed him to the building across the road with a talisman.” He pauses and frowns. ”Actually, I don’t think he even realized I was a cultivator. Suibian was in my qiankun sleeve and he never saw it.” That would explain how the talisman had taken him by surprise. Served the fucker right.

”That wasn’t all,” Madam Yu says, eyes hard. ”You crashed on the yard in full mating heat, carrying the scent of an alpha.” She leans forward and hisses, ”Who touched you?”

Wei Wuxian averts his eyes and curls slightly into himself. ”Lan Zhan,” he finally whispers.

Madam Yu doesn’t say anything for a moment and when Wei Wuxian dares to glance at her, she looks mostly disappointed. ”After everything, I expected more from a Lan,” she says. ”Did you want his…attention?”

Not like that, Wei Wuxian thinks. He draws his legs up on the bed and hugs his knees as if it would somehow help with the hollow feeling in his chest. He rests his forehead on his knees and the scent of misery seeps from him before he manages to curb it in. He doesn’t want to look up to see the expression on Madam Yu’s face.

”I see,” she says after a moment. ”Well.”

Wei Wuxian allows himself a short moment of self-pity and then pushes it away. There’s no point in wallowing in something he can never have, is there? ”I didn’t identify the drug on time,” he says after, forcing his voice to stay level. ”The wine was plum wine, I think, with something that reminded me of ginger. The second bottle tasted exactly the same as the first.”

Madam Yu sighs. ”I’m not blaming you,” she says in her no-nonsense tone. ”The drug goes usually by the name of ’Purple Chrysanthemum’. It’s odorless and tasteless and can only be identified as the cycle progresses and the drugged individual sweats it out. But only if one knows what to look for.” When Wei Wuxian raises his head to give her a poleaxed look, she presses her lips together in a thin line. ”I know that because I invented it,” she grits out. ”I never thought it would come back to me like this,” she mutters, so softly Wei Wuxian almost doesn’t hear her.

”Oh,” he says. 

Madam Yu stands up, stares at the wall for a moment, and then turns to face Wei Wuxian. ”The effects should wear off in a couple of days and, with proper rest and nutrition, you’ll feel normal soon. You can stay here while you’re recovering.”

”Yes, Yu-furen.” Wei Wuxian scrambles up from the bed and bows, almost toppling over. ”Thank you.” He stays down until the door closes and then stands slowly up, letting out a long breath.

It’s strange, being back in Lotus Pier, in his old room (which Madam Yu hasn’t gotten around to change it into a study). Shijie comes in later that day and brings him the promised lotus and pork rib soup and Wei Wuxian definitely doesn’t cry into his bowl. He manages two bowls before feeling almost too full and then falls asleep with his head on shijie’s lap and her hands carding through his hair. (Why she wants to do that is a mystery, considering the unwashed state of his hair. Must be a big sister thing.)

The next morning, he wakes up to a, ”Why the fuck didn’t you write, you asshole?” 

Jiang Cheng is leaning on the wall by the door with his hands crossed on his chest and wearing a furious scowl, the kind that hides his hurt and confusion. ”And why the hell is your room so bare? What happened to all your stuff?”

”I need a bath,” is what Wei Wuxian says and walks out of the room, knowing Jiang Cheng will follow. As he washes up, he wonders what to tell his brother. He can’t let him on the whole truth because he would probably do something stupid like try to punch Lan Zhan which would end with the heir of the Yunmeng Jiang clan dead which, not good. 

Turns out, he doesn’t have to.

”Whatever happened in Gusu—” Jiang Cheng starts and then stops, gritting his teeth. ”I don’t want to know. But it was so weird! First, Teacher Lan was so angry I thought he’d go to instant qi deviation. Then, Zewu-Jun stopped smiling and Lan Wangji turned even colder than anyone had ever seen him before. Nie Huaisang said he heard Lan Wangji yelling at Zewu-jun and Teacher Lan!”

”I thought gossiping was forbidden,” Wei Wuxian mutters.

”Idiot,” Jiang Cheng scoffs and pushes him back into the lake.

It’s almost like before, Wei Wuxian muses as they lay on the pier, wet, exhausted, and grinning. He stares at the blue sky and wonders if things will ever be the same again.

Probably not.

”Whatever they might say about me,” he says quietly, ”I didn’t mean any harm.”

Jiang Cheng snorts. ”Yeah, you never do,” he says. ”But something happened anyway.”

”Yeah.”

After a moment of silence, Jiang Cheng asks, ”So, what have you been doing?”

Wei Wuxian sits up and leans his arms on his knees. ”I’ve been running errands to Yu-furen,” he says.

”What,” Jiang Cheng says flatly.

Wei Wuxian shrugs. ”Not something I would’ve seen coming a year ago but that’s how things are now. A-Cheng,” he says and turns around to face him, ”I did mess up. I shamed the sect and bore the consequences. I lost the title of the Head Disciple and the right to my room.”

”What?” Jiang Cheng exclaims. ”Let me talk to Mother, I might—”

”No!” Wei Wuxian interrupts him. ”No, don’t. I—” He pauses and gives him a small, helpless smile. ”Thank you. But there’s no point. I’m still part of this sect even if it’s kept under wraps. And I get to work as a rogue cultivator without the danger of being really rogue!” He shrugs again. ”I like it. I miss you and shijie and teaching the kids but…”

When he doesn’t continue, Jiang Cheng lets out a long breath. ”You can do whatever you want,” he says in a low voice. ”Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted?” The hurt is there again.

”Yeah, I did. But not like this!” Wei Wuxian says and huffs, frustrated. ”I wanted to roam around because I could, not because I was offered a deal I really couldn’t turn down!” As soon as he says it, he realizes his mistake. Fuck.

Jiang Cheng narrows his eyes. ”What deal?”

”Aiyah, forget about it!” Wei Wuxian says and brushes Jiang Cheng’s annoyance aside. ”I’m home now! How about we just…enjoy this until I’m heading out again?”

”Heading out where?” Jiang Cheng asks slowly.

”I don’t know,” he replies. ”Somewhere.” He grins, smacks Jiang Cheng with his wet towel, and starts running back to his room, his didi hot on his heels.

They’re halfway across the training ground when Lan Zhan walks in, calm and collected, looking as cold and unattainable as ever. His eyes zero in on Wei Wuxian immediately and he hesitates, an almost imperceptible sway in his steps before starting toward them.

”What the fuck?” Jiang Cheng growls from under his breath. He’s reacting to both Lan Zhan and oh, right, the sheer panic Wei Wuxian is probably pumping out.

Wei Wuxian swallows. He starts backing up which of course means Jiang Cheng glances over his shoulder and his eyes go wide at whatever he sees on Wei Wuxian’s face. 

His face set in a scowl, he steps in front of Wei Wuxian, blocking him from Lan Zhan, and asks, ”What are you doing here?”

”Jiang Wanyin,” Lan Zhan says and bows. ”I wish to speak with Wei Ying.”

”Why?” Jiang Cheng snaps.

”I would like to keep it private—”

”How about fucking not—”

They fall silent for an awkward moment and then Wei Wuxian grimaces. ”I think I’ll just go inside,” he says.

Lan Zhan steps forward. ”Wei Ying,” he starts, reaching out and freezes as Wei Wuxian flinches back, ever so slightly. The look in his eyes makes Wei Wuxian want to crawl under a rock and wither away.

”Please,” Lan Zhan says quietly. ”Let me—”

That’s as far as he gets because the next moment Zidian crackles, its purple glare sending small shocks along Wei Wuxian’s back. He hasn’t seen it since he’d been whipped but he remembers—vividly—how it had felt, splitting his skin open.

”Hanguang-Jun,” Madam Yu says with a voice colder than anything Wei Wuxian has ever heard. She doesn’t bow and Wei Wuxian suddenly realizes she’s absolutely livid. (Also, Hanguang-Jun? Lan Zhan had earned himself a title already?)

”I don’t believe you have been invited,” Madam Yu continues as she walks calmly forward, Jinzhu and Yinzhu two steps behind her, as usual.

”Yu-furen is absolutely right,” Lan Zhan says with a polite, deep bow. ”And I apologize for my transgression. I wished to speak with Wei Ying as soon as possible.”

Madam Yu cocks her head. ”I didn’t realize you were in such familiar terms that you would call him by his given name,” she says. ”And why such a rush?” A cold smile plays on her lips. ”It wouldn’t have anything to do with what happened in Ezhou?” 

Lan Zhan’s eyes go wide and slightly panicked as his gaze darts to Wei Wuxian and then back to Madam Yu. 

Wei Wuxian can’t believe his eyes. Somehow, for some reason, Madam Yu is…defending him? 

Madam Yu stares at Lan Zhan for a moment. ”Give my greetings to Lan Qiren, Second Young Master Lan,” she says with barely hidden contempt. It’s the rudest Wei Wuxian has ever heard her outside the family and the implications boggle his mind. Madam Yu is throwing Lan Zhan out of Lotus Pier? Why? For Wei Wuxian? That doesn’t make any sense!

But Lan Zhan ignores her words and takes a step forward. ”Wei Ying,” he says, sounding almost pleading.

Suddenly, Wei Wuxian feels immense pressure of something lash out from Madam Yu and he stumbles back, dizzy, because what the fuck? Jiang Cheng growls and steps in front of him even though he seems to have problems staying upright. Lan Zhan, on the other hand…

Lan Zhan grunts, sways, and drops on his knees with a gasp.

”Alphas,” Madam Yu sneers as she stalks closer. ”I expected more from a Lan but it seems like you’re just like everyone else.” She stops and flicks dismissively with the fingers of her right hand. The pressure surges out again, now amplified with Madam Yu’s spiritual power and it throws Lan Zhan back. She nods sharply and the guards scramble to move help Lan Zhan up and out of the gate.

When she turns to face them, she looks completely calm.

”Wanyin, leave us,” she says. 

Jiang Cheng jerks his head in a move that resembles a nod and leaves, looking once back at them from over his shoulder.

”Stop gaping, it’s unbecoming,” Madam Yu snaps.

Wei Wuxian closes his mouth.

”Let me make two things clear,” Madam Yu says, in a cool voice. Nothing about her looks like she just threw Lan Zhan across the yard. ”One: what I did just now wasn’t because I was defending Wei Wuxian. I did it because you’re an omega and regardless of cultivation or social standing, no omega deserves what you went through. Ever.” She pauses and raises a brow, clearly expecting an answer.

”Yes, Yu-furen,” Wei Wuxian says, still bewildered, because what the fuck?

”Second: what I did just now isn’t common knowledge but it’s something that can be learned. I’m offering you a chance to learn the true power that lies within your secondary gender.”

Wei Wuxian’s jaw drops open again.

Madam Yu turns to go. ”Whatever you decide won’t change how I think about you. You cannot earn my…affection by saying yes but you can prove yourself and earn my respect.” She gives him a sideways look. ”Think carefully what you want to do with your life, Wei Wuxian.”

She leaves him standing in the middle of the yard, bewildered, still clutching his wet towel, and wondering if the world went mad while he was in the lake.

In all honesty, he doesn’t have to think about it. He knew his answer even before Madam Yu finished her sentence. Of course he’s going to say yes. Because whatever Madam Yu has been planning, this is where she’s been aiming for the whole time. She’s preparing for something big and Wei Wuxian is smart enough to know that his chances of surviving whatever it is are better if he’s on her side.

So, the next morning, he dons on his robes, cleans his old room as well as he can (he strongly suspects he’ll be coming back even after taking Madam Yu up for her offer), packs his qiankun pouches, slides Suibian to its proper place in his qiankun sleeve, and makes his way to the pavilion on the pier.

He isn’t surprised to see Madam Yu already waiting for him and she looks just as unsurprised to see him, calmly sipping her tea as he approaches.

He makes sure to give her a proper, deep bow. ”This one is grateful for the opportunity Yu-furen is giving him,” he says. ”This one wishes to learn and use his skills where Yu-furen deems them most useful.”

Madam Yu takes her time drinking her tea before she turns her sharp eyes on him. ”Good.” She waits for Jinzhu to pour her another cup of tea. ”Take Wanyin and Yanli to the town today,” she says. Her tone is dismissive but it makes Wei Wuxian feel suddenly warm anyway.

”Thank you, Yu-furen,” he says and bows. ”Do you want me to bring you anything?”

”Why would I want you to bring me anything?” She snaps and waves him away. ”You can leave now.”

Wei Wuxian nods and grins widely the whole way back to his siblings.

’Clouds are burning. Return immediately.’

Wei Wuxian stares at the note in his hand and swears. It had arrived even more heavily warded than Madam Yu’s usual messages and with a damn good reason. He presses his lips together in a tight line and sets the note on fire with a snap of his fingers, watching the tiny flecks of ash dance in the early morning sunlight. 

Lately, Madam Yu has been sending him Northwest, darting in and out of the Wen territory, but this time, he’d been in Meishan, visiting Madam Yu’s teacher for his final lessons. The old omega had sent him on his way via some obscure backwater paths that had taken him through Qishan. Wei Wuxian had kept his eyes and ears open and about two weeks in his journey, he’d come across a group of disgruntled Wen soldiers. He’d been about to test his newly-honed skills in scent manipulation on them when he’d heard them talking about Gusu Lan. With mounting horror, he’d listened to the soldiers whining about how they should’ve been allowed to be part of the attack force and—well, after that he sort of stopped listening. He’d gritted his teeth, clenched his hands into fists so hard his nails drew blood, and slowly, carefully, crept away. 

What he’d wanted to do was to kill them all. What he had done was to hurry out of their way, jump on Suibian, and speed to Yunmeng. When Madam Yu’s note reached him, he was well over halfway there.

Gusu is on fire.

It seems impossible. The Cloud Recesses is built on a mountain, it has walls around it and the wards embedded in those walls are stronger than anything Wei Wuxian has so far seen. So how can it be burning? How could the Wen get inside? Was there a traitor in the Lan sect—that doesn’t seem likely but, well, anything’s possible, right?

Wei Wuxian isn’t a fool. He knows Madam Yu has been sending him to the Wen territory to spy on them and he’s heard enough rumors to be worried even though he’s yet to see any troops. Which doesn’t really mean anything—Wei Wuxian is only one man and if the Wen troops are riding their swords and using talismans to hide, well… 

And what will happen next? After burning the Cloud Recesses, who will be next? Why did they start with Gusu anyway? The Lans tend to keep to themselves and only open their doors every couple of years to offer the sect heirs of age the chance to study a year under the strict tutelage of Teacher Lan. Were they offended by the teachings? But…That can’t be the reason—the Wen didn’t even send their main branch heir! 

Or perhaps there isn’t a reason other than pure greed. Wen Ruohan is a megalomaniac who’s been trying to crush the other sects under his foot for some time now. Perhaps burning the Cloud Recesses doesn’t need a reason, maybe it was just a show of what the Wen can do if they so choose.

He arrives at what he’s started to call his cabin long after midnight, trembling from fatigue but too wired up to sleep. As usual, the wards around the cabin alerted Madam Yu the moment he crossed them and she’ll come to him right after sunrise, but going to bed now will only lead to tossing and turning and then facing the new day with frustrated anger. So, he decides to make use of the small hours: he lights a couple of candles and starts drafting out talismans he’s been thinking about ever since leaving Meishan Yu. One for instant teleportation and another to disguise secondary genders. Yes, potions exist but he’s always been more interested in a temporary and more easily controllable disguise. 

He comes up for air when Madam Yu opens the door and clicks her tongue. ”Did you sleep at all?” She snaps and gives his disheveled state an unimpressed glare.

Wei Wuxian hurries to bow. ”Ah, sorry, Yu-furen, I didn’t realize—” He shakes his head and shrugs. ”I was too wired up to sleep so I decided to make use of the time.”

Madam Yu huffs and sits on the chair he vacated. ”Speak,” she says, idly leafing through the talisman drafts.

This is a familiar dance: whenever Wei Wuxian gets back, he gives Madam Yu a detailed report and sometimes shows her arrays or ideas he drafted in his journals. He’s never been organized as such but he’s realized it’s mostly been because he lacked motivation. Earlier, he couldn’t bother with making notes on things that were ridiculously easy for him—like everything Teacher Lan droned about on the Cloud Recesses—but now, with everything Madam Yu has taught to him and what he learned from Teacher Yu during the past couple of weeks… Wei Wuxian considers his meticulously filled journals a thing of creat pride.

”How did you get back so fast?” Madam Yu asks with narrowed eyes. ”You should’ve been deeper in the Wen territory and getting back would take at least a week longer.”

Wei Wuxian sighs. ”I was already on my way back. I ran into a group of Wen soldiers and they talked about the Gusu invasion and I decided I probably should get back.”

”Hm.” Madam Yu leafs through his notes. ”Did you let them live?” She asks without looking at him.

”Yes.”

”Why?”

”Because it would’ve exposed me, risked Teacher Yu, and perhaps alerted the Wen that someone was on them,” he says and then continues, a bit sheepishly, ”And because you told me not to kill anyone. Yet.”

”Teacher Yu,” Madam Yu snorts. ”Did she make you call her that?”

Wei Wuxian shrugs. ”I thought it would be respectful.” When that earns him a coolly raised brow, he adds, ”Well, I wasn’t going to disrespect someone who was teaching me how to poison people.”

They fall silent for a moment and then Wei Wuxian asks, quietly, ”Yu-furen, what’s going on?”

She sighs and glances out of the window. ”The Wen are holding their own…training camp,” she says and the look on her face tells him exactly what she thinks of it. ”They’ve invited the heirs of all prominent sects—not only the four other major ones—and they expect everyone to send 20 disciples along with their heirs. Yanli is excused, of course, due to her frailness but Wanyin will have to go.”

”Yes,” Wei Wuxian says.

”Excuse me?” 

”Of course I’ll go with Jiang Cheng,” Wei Wuxian says. ”I still consider him my brother.”

”As endearing as your sentiment is, that’s not what I meant,” Madam Yu says dryly. ”You won’t be accompanying him, you’ll be shadowing him.”

”What?”

Madam Yu gives him a hard look. ”Wen Ruohan has made his first major move and incapacitated Gusu Lan claiming a grievous insult of some kind. The Cloud Recesses is in ashes, Lan Qiren is either dead or injured, the next ones in line are nowhere to be found. Qishan Wen is too powerful for any of us to refuse, even if we wanted to keep our children safe. I have a very good reason to believe all sect heirs will be eliminated during their stay. Your mission is to prevent it.

”Keep out of sight as long as you can. Don’t interfere unless absolutely necessary. Make sure the sect heirs stay alive to return to their families.”

He blinks, trying to wrap his mind around ’the next ones in line are nowhere to be found.’ He shakes his head and asks, ”Yu-furen…Why can’t I just kill the Wen?”

”All of them?” She asks, mockingly.

Wei Wuxian makes a face. ”No. I meant, the Wen in charge of this…whatever this—wait, isn’t an invitation to a training camp just a polite way to say they’ve been summoned to be indoctrinated?”

Madam Yu sighs and stands up. ”Because that would jeopardize the clans. Wen Ruohan has been slowly filtering troops around the other clan territories for some time now. If you kill the one in charge of the camp, you’ll be killing Wen Chao, Wen Ruohan’s younger son.” She cocks her head. ”Guess what that would mean to the major sects who have Wen troops camping on their backyards?”

”Oh. Right.”

”Besides, we can’t risk the Wen recognizing you later.” 

He stares at her for a moment because what?

”Stay away from Wanyin and Yanli this time,” Madam Yu says as she walks to the door. ”It’s imperative they believe you’re still away, that will protect both Wanyin and you. I will see you at our usual place tomorrow with Jinzhu and Yinzhu. Don’t be late.”

”Yes, Yu-furen,” he says to her back and waits until the door closes behind her before sitting on the bed like his legs just gave out.

Fuck.

The following weeks are packed with preparation. He perfects his talismans until the brushstrokes dance in front of his eyes and pushes himself to figure out new and different ways to hide his presence and transport large items. He brews potions the way Teacher Yu instructed and organizes them in small, coded vials he places in a special binder that he packs away in a qiankun sleeve. He memorizes the maps of the Wen territory, reads up on their history, and studies the correspondence Madam Yu has had with some of her other informants. It all paints a terrifying picture of just how big this all is and how long Madam Yu has been keeping an eye on things.

Each morning, he trains with Madam Yu and her maids. He was an excellent fighter before but they make him better. They teach him to fight with his eyes closed, with his spiritual energy sealed off, under the influence of drugs, and, on one, absolutely terrifying day, with a feral dog present. He makes it through the day and when Madam Yu nods at him at the end of their session, he chooses to believe he sees a shade of apology in her eyes when Jinzhu takes the dog away. It does nothing to the panic attack that follows as soon as she’s out of the hearing range, though. But at least now he knows he can fight in the presence of dogs. Joy.

And then there are the other lessons. The ones where she’ll hit him with her scent while he’s fighting with Jinzhu and Yinzhu. She’ll suddenly lash out, and it can be anything from syrupy sweet coddling that turns his mind slow and pliant to a mind-bending fury that’ll make his knees buckle from fear. There are lessons where she tells him to lash out, to penetrate the shields she’s built around herself, or to try to affect her mood. He’s hesitant at first, unsure if he really should go for it but he soon learns that trying to be coy in these moments never bodes well for him. So he tries. And fails. And tries again.

In the final week of his training, they spend several days outside in silence, just staring at each other as the fight rages on in their scents and in their minds. Jinzhu and Yinzhu keep watch and every now and then either or both will try to distract Wei Wuxian from his battle of wills with Madam Yu but he manages to keep them at bay. Barely. 

And before he knows it, it’s time.

”Keep him safe,” Madam Yu says. ”Or, if you can’t keep him safe, keep him alive.”

”I will,” Wei Wuxian vows. 

”And I expect to see you alive through it as well,” she adds.

A small smile tugs at the side of his lips. ”Yes, Yu-furen.” 

She gives him a narrowed look, then nods, satisfied, and leaves.

Wei Wuxian stands still for a moment, grounding himself. He takes a deep breath, holds it for a moment, and then lets it slowly flow out through his lips. He checks his qiankun pouches, makes sure his talismans are in order and that he has plenty of talisman paper and cinnabar, secures Suibian’s sheath in its proper place in the qiankun sleeve, and… well. 

Then he has no reason to stall anymore.

Catching up with Jiang Cheng is easy, both because he isn’t trying to hide and because Madam Yu gave Wei Wuxian the information on the route. He camouflages his presence with a simple spell—no point in using his spiritual energy for a more complicated and powerful talisman yet—and follows his shidi’s small entourage from a distance. Jiang Cheng seems to be in as cheery mood as ever, snapping at the handful of disciples and his cousin from Madam Yu’s side he’s been training as the new right-hand man after Wei Wuxian stepped down. Shen-something-something, Wei Wuxian honestly doesn’t remember even though he probably should.

As they travel further into the Wen territory, they see other parties. Jiang Cheng nods stiffly at the Lanling Jin group and Jin Zixuan—the damn peacock—nods back and then they continue, ignoring each other. Unsurprisingly, Laoling Qin clan trails after Lanling Jin, followed by the Nie sect group led by Nie Huaisang. (Wei Wuxian isn’t sure why he’s surprised. The Wen ordered all sect heirs to arrive but somehow, he thought that if someone found a way to weasel out of coming, it would be Huaisang.) He also sees the heirs of Baling Ouyang, Tingshan He, Pingyang Yao, Hedong Fu, Runan Wang, and Zhao Donghai from Zhoushan Zhao. 

Meishan Yu isn’t attending which doesn’t surprise Wei Wuxian even one bit. The clan is highly secretive and he’s pretty sure old Teacher Yu would’ve chosen to attend in person rather than let any of the sects younglings participate. A hard decision to make, and something that could well turn on them later. 

What is a surprise is to realize how sad he is when he can’t see anyone in the Lan pale blue and white. He decides to examine that feeling somewhere in the far, far future and pushes it neatly away from his mind for the time being.

When the now quite extensive group of young cultivators draws close to the grand stairs that lead to the Nightless City, Wei Wuxian realizes he has a problem. He can’t just send in a paperman to eavesdrop on what’s happening but going in person poses a risk. He decides to go with it anyway and knocks out one guard, changes into his outfit, hides the body, and adds yet another talisman to himself. It’s just in time because with not a small amount of horror, he sees a familiar figure in white slowly walk forward. 

A fucking intimidation tactic, he seethes quietly on the inside. You wanted them all standing here and questioning the point of this all, and THEN you walk Lan Zhan, the Second Jade of Lan through the visiting disciples’ ranks like a fucking war tribute!

Because that’s exactly what’s happening: Lan Zhan is alone and he’s clearly injured even though he tries to hide it. And sadly, as a tactic, it works wonderfully: seeing the Second Jade of Lan being marched to face Wen Chao alone makes the others hesitate. Hell, even Jin Zixuan’s haughty face looks troubled.

And then Wen Chao demands the disciples hand in their swords.

For a moment, Wei Wuxian doesn’t know what to do. Both Lan Zhan and Jin Zixuan look like they’d rather fight than hand in their swords but that would mean unnecessary bloodbath and would be not-good for everyone present, so, Wei Wuxian decides to interfere. He sends out delicate tendrils of his scent, weaves them through and around the disciples standing behind the heirs, and gently nudges the alphas to comply. There’s a strange resonance that seems to respond to him but he doesn’t dwell on it, more intent on getting this done without anyone dying. He lets out the barest breath of relief when the sect heirs hand in the swords one by one and then hastily checks his camouflaging talisman is still working.

After the swords are unceremoniously dumped into a suspiciously stained bag, Wen Chao’s henchmen hand all participants the Wen sect’s rulebook and tell them to learn it by heart. And then he starts droning on about honor and discipline and blah blah blah, being a pretentious, pompous ass that he is. Wei Wuxian tries to stay alert but it’s frankly difficult when the procession is so boring he wants to sit down and weep. He doesn’t because that would be stupid. So, he straightens his spine and starts going through the mental exercises old Teacher Yu taught him. 

When the day finally ends, he’s forced to watch as the disciples are made to sleep out there in the open as Wen Chao marches up the stairs. They’re given way too little water and provisions Wei Wuxian wouldn’t feed to a dog. 

The following several days are as mind-bogglingly boring as the first. Wen Chao sits on his makeshift throne and watches as the heirs one by one refuse to recite the rules which would be hilarious it if wasn’t nerve-wracking because Wen Chao enjoys making examples of people. It’s usually beating, sometimes bored backhanding, and on some times, a guard kicking Lan Zhan on his injured leg. 

Seeing Lan Zhan fall without a word, get up, and then stare stoically forward as his robes slowly seep through with blood makes Wei Wuxian sick. Each time, he has to fight back a growl and repeat Madam Yu’s instructions (don’t get caught, stay out of sight, keep him safe, be smart) to keep from charging forward. 

And it doesn’t make any sense! 

Wei Wuxian is the one who violated Lan Zhan and Lan Zhan has made more than clear what he thinks of him. So, why does he feel like each hit Lan Zhan takes is a punch to Wei Wuxian’s gut? Is this some weird omega empathy thing? 

Why is he thinking Lan Zhan so much?

After spending days in front of the giant staircase, then the group gets hauled to shovel manure (at which point Wei Wuxian makes sure to stay upwind because eww). And then Wen Chao leads the whole group to a…night-hunt? It’s a weird procession: Wen Chao sits on his horse with his mistress and pays more attention to her than where they’re going, and the sect heirs and disciples trail behind him like the prisoners they are. Wei Wuxian isn’t sure what the hell is going on but he follows; of course he follows, Jiang Cheng and Lan Zhan are going and so is he. 

Lan Zhan’s leg has been broken and re-broken several times and the further the group walks, the more it becomes clear he’s in pain. It nags at Wei Wuxian that there’s nothing he can do: even though he has a wide selection of medicinal herbs and potions in his qiankun pouches, he has no means to get them to the alpha. He can’t use a paperman in case he’s found out and he absolutely cannot venture among the disciples even heavily camouflaged because Jiang Cheng knows his scent too well. Wei Wuxian simply can’t risk it.

So, he shadows the group. He tries his best in making things harder, though, to force the group to take breaks but Lan Zhan doesn’t need a break, he needs a doctor. And rather sooner than later.

After two days of traveling (and watching in disgust as Wen Chao all but mounts his omega mistress in front of everyone), Wei Wuxian manages to sneak a paperman close to Wen Chao’s tent. After a frankly embarrassingly short tumble in the tent, Wen Chao exits, radiating that stupid, smug cockiness alphas wear after successfully knotting someone like it’s somehow a heroic feat. He walks a short distance from his tent, relieves himself with a whistle, and returns to the fire crackling in front of his tent where his bodyguard? Keeper? His whatever, the Core-Melting Hand, Wen Zhuliu, sits like an obedient dog.

”How far is it?” Wen Chao asks.

Wen Zhuliu pokes at the fire with a stick. ”One more day, or two at most. We have to be at the ridge on sunrise or the mouth of the cave will be hidden from us.”

”And are you sure the monster is there?”

Wen Zhuliu looks like they’ve been through this talk many times already but he answers, ”Yes, I’m sure. It is its lair, it can’t leave.”

What kind of a monster Wen Chao is hunting? Wei Wuxian wonders as he carefully retreats. And is he going to kill it or just feed the disciples to it? 

He learns the answer two days later as Wen Chao points at a shadow the rising sun paints into the side of the mountain ahead. ”Behold, Dusk-Creek Mountain! That’s where we’re heading. That opening leads to the underground lair of the Tortoise of Slaughter.” 

When his declaration doesn’t elicit the awed gasps he clearly expected (well, not from anyone else but from his omega toy), a sneer flashes across his face and he spurs his horse forward. ”Even if you don’t understand what lies ahead of you, I do,” he says haughtily.

Several sect heirs mutter that they understand perfectly what’s waiting for them but they follow anyway. It’s not like they have a choice.

Wei Wuxian hangs back and watches as the Wen soldiers practically push the sect heirs and disciples into the cave. Wen Chao, his mistress, Wen Zhuliu, and a handful of guards hover at the mouth of the cave and, after some time, they too vanish into the darkness. 

Wei Wuxian is left with a dilemma.

Should he hang back and wait for the Wens to get back? Or should he cover himself, his scent, his everything thoroughly with talismans and follow them? He has no idea how big the cave is. And even though Wei Wuxian remembers vaguely reading something about a Xuanwu, that beast was mythical and is believed to have been in hibernation for centuries. And he’s supposed to believe it’s here? Really? How convenient…

After a moment of intense internal debating that leaves him frustrated and his lower lip worried bloody, he decides to go for it. Yes, he might get himself into a great deal of trouble but he can’t exactly keep A-Cheng alive if he’s outside the cave and A-Cheng is on the inside, can he? So, he waits until one of the guards—the one who took a great deal of joy in mutilating Lan Zhan’s leg—wanders off to take a piss and then sneaks behind him and snaps his neck. He feels no remorse. 

Dressed in the Wen guard’s outer robe and helmet, covered in talismans that among other things, tell everyone to look the other way, Wei Wuxian carefully makes his way to the cave mouth. He slips inside and hides in the shadows, listening to the yelling from the cavern below. After a moment, the yelling turns to screaming and a massive roar that seems to shake the whole mountain. Wei Wuxian presses himself further into the shadows as Wen Chao, his mistress, Wen Zhuliu, and the guards scramble up and cut the ropes, abandoning all sect heirs and disciples to their death.

You fucking assholes, Wei Wuxian seethes as the Wen run out. A moment later, he sees them haul massive rocks in front of the cave entrance, further ensuring the death of those they left behind.

Wei Wuxian isn’t worried. He has emergency rations, he has more than enough equipment to modify into various tools to climb out from the cavern and blow his way out if needed. He has his transportation talismans. But he has to be smart; he can’t expose himself even now because he still doesn’t know what Madam Yu’s plan is. He probably could play with his disguise and put his trust in the combined effect of his talismans, his skills with scent manipulation, and the whatever that scared the hell out of Wen Chao and his henchmen.

Mind made up, he refreshes his talismans, scrubs a bit more soot on his face, and downs a potion that will temporarily change his voice. Then he ties a rope in place as a backup plan and then tumbles down in an uncoordinated mess—

—And almost skewers himself on a sword held by a furious Jiang Cheng.

”Who the fuck are you?” Jiang Cheng snarls. The air around him practically shimmers with alpha rage and if Wei Wuxian was someone else, he probably would drop like a stone.

Instead, he feigns and sways, raising his hands up. ”Please don’t— I mean no harm— they sealed me in!”

”What do you mean, they sealed you in?” Jin Zixuan demands.

”I don’t— I said it wasn’t right, to leave you here, so they—they pushed me in and sealed the cave entrance!” Wei Wuxian babbles, pushing out a careful amount of beta-imitating I’m harmless, don’t hurt me -scent.

”So, we’re trapped in with no way out,” Jiang Cheng growls. ”Fucking awesome.”

”No,” Lan Zhan says.

”What?” Jiang Cheng snaps.

”Leaves. In the water,” Lan Zhan says, pointing into the dark water.

Water, Wei Wuxian notices, that also hosts the ugliest monster he’s ever seen. ”What the fuck is that?” He squeals.

”Apparently, the Tortoise of Slaughter is real,” Jiang Cheng says dryly. ”It’s awake. And it’s pissed.”

”Oh. Nice,” Wei Wuxian says, a bit weakly. Well, that puts a bit of a hamper on his plans. Because yes, Lan Zhan saw right, there are maple leaves in the water and there were no maples in front of the cave. Which means there’s a way out—through a river Wei Wuxian remembers from the maps he studied before following his shidi. 

Question is, is the connecting hole big enough for a human to pass and, if it is, how the fuck will he get the others to leave?

”Well, I can’t dive to check the bottom if the thing is patrolling the area,” Jiang Cheng muses.

”Dive?” Nie Huaisang asks, looking like he’s about to faint.

Jiang Cheng shrugs. ”I’m Yunmeng Jiang. I’m the most logical choice to check if there’s a way out.”

”We could distract it,” a female voice says—oh, it’s… Wei Wuxian thinks hard for a moment. Right, Mianmian, wasn’t she? Jin Zixuan’s only working brain cell?

”How?” He asks.

”With fire,” she says.

Surprisingly enough, it works. Mianmian, Wei Wuxian, and Zhao Donghai take turns distracting the Xuanwu while Jiang Cheng searches for a way out. When he returns with a triumphant smile, Wei Wuxian stifles a sigh of relief. 

”We can get out,” Jiang Cheng says. ”It’s a tight fit but not impossible. I have to lead everyone out in groups of four or five.”

As they start diving people into groups, Nie Huaisang stumbles to Wei Wuxian. ”I can’t, I can’t, I can’t!” He chants, eyes wide and terrified as he clutches Wei Wuxian’s arm in a vice grip. And then he murmurs, so softly that he can barely hear it, ”Stay safe, Wei-xiong,” before pressing his face against Wei Wuxian’s shoulder and sobbing. And then he practically falls into Jiang Cheng’s arms who rolls his eyes at Wei Wuxian before leading him to the water.

For one, bewildered moment, Wei Wuxian is frozen to place. Nie Huaisang recognized him? Nie Huaisang who…well, fine, has always seemed a lot more shrewd than he lets on. And, wait. The resonance he felt back in the Nightless City’s stairs—that was Nie Huaisang? Wei Wuxian narrows his eyes and then pushes the thought back. He’ll think about it later, preferably when he’s not going to be eaten by a fucking ugly tortoise monster. 

They start smuggling people out in small groups while Wei Wuxian, Zhao Donghai, and totally unsurprisingly, Lan Zhan keep the tortoise occupied. Wei Wuxian is fully intending to push everyone out with Jiang Cheng and stay back himself but when he tries to, Lan Zhan adamantly refuses. It sort of makes sense because his leg is bleeding so much that if he went to the water, the Xuanwu would smell him and attack immediately. As long as Lan Zhan is on the shore, the monster’s interest stays in him.

Or, it does, until one of the minor sects’ heirs falls and hits his head. In the following chaos, the tortoise darts after the escaping group with a surprising speed, roaring as its massive bulk makes waves that threaten to push the last group back to the shore.

And Wei Wuxian snaps.

”GO!” He screams and shoves as hard as he can, overriding their senses and forcing the last group to flee without a second thought. He has no idea if the tortoise is susceptible to his scent but he has to try, so he focuses and punches it on the side of its head at the same time as he slams it with a stunning talisman. 

The monster screeches and turns, smashing the water with its tail, and chases Wei Wuxian which, yes, was what he wanted but fuck it’s fast! He scrambles back as fast as he can but there’s too much space, the monster is going to get him which would be just embarrassing after everything he’s done and—

A hand grabs him by the neck of his robe and yanks him sideways into an alcove in the rock. An arm curls around his midriff and tucks him against a firm chest, well out of the way of the monster. And then, a huff of breath against his neck and the smallest hint of familiar sandalwood scent.

Shit.

They hold their breaths as they wait as the monster rages and trashes, trying to snap its jaws and get to them. Its snout is too wide, though, so the only thing they’re treated with is an ample amount of hot, rancid air and slime. It feels like it takes an eternity for it to finally retreat, and when it does, Wei Wuxian lets out a shuddering breath and relaxes. 

Which is a huge mistake.

”Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan says quietly from behind him.

Wei Wuxian closes his eyes for a moment. How did Lan Zhan recognize him? By his scent? Did he actually imprint on Wei Wuxian in Ezhou? He shakes his head to clear it and steps out of Lan Zhan’s arms, ignoring the way his fingers clench on his hips before he lets Wei Wuxian go.

”Well,” he says aloud as he watches the side of the cave that previously sported the passage to freedom. It doesn’t anymore because, apparently, the monster smashed it when it turned to chase Wei Wuxian. ”That doesn’t look promising.”

”We have to kill it,” Lan Zhan says.

”Yep,” Wei Wuxian agrees cheerfully. ”Which means that you, Young Master, will sit back and rest while I take care of it.”

”Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan says again and grabs a hold of his arm.

”I don’t know who you’re talking about,” he tries, only to feel Lan Zhan’s grip tighten. ”Fine,” Wei Wuxian huffs without looking at him. Then he turns, deactivates his concealing talismans, and with a sick feeling in his stomach, witnesses Lan Zhan let go of his arm and reel back. ”Yeah…So, I’m just gonna go there,” he waves in the general direction of the underground lake, ”and figure something out.”

He doesn’t look back to see the look on Lan Zhan’s face. Instead, he stalks carefully forward to scope the area because, as he said to Lan Zhan, he doesn’t need the alpha’s help to kill the monster. He can cook up a mix of talismans to subdue it and then blow it up or something, the more challenging thing is figuring out how to get Lan Zhan out and how to handle the fact that he now knows Wei Wuxian followed them to the Wen territory.

Oh, well. One thing at a time.

”So, we have a couple of options,” he says as he walks back to Lan Zhan. ”But let’s start with getting your leg treated. Sit,” he says, pushing the intent through. 

Lan Zhan sits.

Wei Wuxian chatters about nothing in particular as he deftly peels back the torn and bloody fabric covering Lan Zhan’s right leg, clucks his tongue at the mess, and then scolds him for letting the wound go untreated. It’s background noise, easy and familiar, something he can keep up for hours while his mind works on something else. He goes through the explosive options in his head as he rummages around the qiankun pouch that holds all his bandages and medicines, calculates the proper dosages as he rinses the inflamed wounds and carefully sprinkles medicinal herbs on them, and contemplates his options for what to do with Lan Zhan after the monster is dead while bandaging the alpha’s leg with clean bandages.

”There,” he says and grins. ”All done. Now, get some rest.”

Lan Zhan frowns. ”You too,” he says.

”Nah, I have to make some preparations for slaughtering the tortoise of slaughter,” he says and snickers. It earns him an exasperated look that’s so familiar it twinges somewhere in his chest. He pushes it aside. ”Rest,” he says, making Lan Zhan comply. 

Lan Zhan leans his head back but he doesn’t close his eyes. Instead, he keeps watching Wei Wuxian as he cleans up, digs his pouch for travel rations, and then starts planning in earnest. He feels the gaze on his skin like a whisper of touch. It’s distracting as fuck, but he shakes his head a bit and concentrates on his calculations. 

The ability to hyperfocus comes in handy at times.

When he emerges from his fugue, Lan Zhan is asleep. He looks softer, or perhaps it’s just the fact that now Wei Wuxian dares to stare. The Second Jade of Lan is truly a beauty: all pale skin and regal features framed by lush, black locks of hair impeccably donned up with his hairpiece. Even on the indoctrination camp, he looks untouchable, unattainable. Unreachable.

Wei Wuxian decides to look now because there will be no later. He knows what he has to do.

He finishes his rations, drinks a bit of water, and settles down for a couple of hours of fitful rest. 

Killing the monster is, in the end, surprisingly easy. Lan Zhan acts as a reluctant lure (apparently something stupid about his alpha instincts rebelling against putting an omega in danger which, wow, really?), lighting his bloodied robe on fire and waving it like a flag while Wei Wuxian sneaks around from the side, armed to the teeth. He decided that the wisest course of action would most likely be to slam it with enough talismans to choke it, then activate them, then shoot it with several arrows coated in the explosive powder Wei Wuxian carefully mixed, light it up, and then, if necessary, attack it with Suibian. It sounds like a lot but what takes the most time is the sneaking. He has to get into a proper position while making sure Lan Zhan stays safe but he manages.

The plan works perfectly. (He’s slightly surprised about it and then immediately annoyed at himself for being surprised because he’s fucking excellent at what he does.) The tortoise freezes for a short moment under the onslaught of the talismans and struggles sluggishly when Wei Wuxian’s arrows hit its eyes and mouth, then followed by a lit arrow. It breaks through the talismans and shakes its head, trying to extinguish the flames by dunking its head in the lake but it doesn’t help against the mixes Wei Wuxian uses. The tortoise’s head explodes with a disgusting, wet sound, raining blood, slime, and brain everywhere. Its body trashes in violent twitches and jerks, hitting the cavern walls repeatedly and forcing Wei Wuxian and Lan Zhan to retreat. 

And then the whole damn cave starts to tremble. 

”It’s going to collapse!” Wei Wuxian yells over the rumble and grabs Lan Zhan’s hand. ”Come on!”

Thanking whichever benevolent gods that just happened to feel magnanimous today, Wei Wuxian finds his backup rope still securely in place. He forces Lan Zhan to climb up first and practically pushes him half of the way, dodging small pebbles and blinking dust and sand from his eyes. The climb isn’t long but it feels like it. When he glances up to see how much they still have to go, he sees a massive boulder shake loose and fall straight toward Lan Zhan. 

Wei Wuxian doesn’t think. 

With a mighty heave, he propels the alpha up and flings himself to the side just in time to see the boulder hit the spot they were only a moment ago. The impact snaps the rope and the boulder plummets down, leaving Wei Wuxian panting and clinging to the cave wall with tooth and nail.

And then Lan Zhan lets out a raw sound of pure desperation. ”Wei Ying!” He screams. ”No! Wei Ying!”

It cuts through Wei Wuxian like a knife, making him gasp with a pain so intense that his head spins, and he reacts on instinct. His scent surges out and wraps around Lan Zhan, soothes his pain and anguish, and then—switches him off. There’s no other way he can describe it: he knows how to calm Lan Zhan down and he knows what to reach for, what to access, and how to manipulate the flow he knows is the alpha’s consciousness and then do exactly that: Switch him off.

Lan Zhan drops down like a limpet.

Wei Wuxian lets out a long breath and slowly climbs up. Lan Zhan lays crumpled in a heap, a sluggishly bleeding wound in his forehead, his injured leg twisted uncomfortably under him, and his hand reached out for the edge of the cliff. His cheeks are wet with—

No, they can’t be. 

Tears? 

Wei Wuxian doesn’t understand.

He makes his way to the blocked cave entrance and sends a paperman out. The area is vacated, and it seems like Wen Chao took his entourage back home as soon as he ran out of the cave. He doesn’t mind because it just makes his job easier. He digs out one of his brand new transportation talismans and activates it, fervently glad the distance he needs to cover is quite small. He hurries to where he hid the dead Wen guard and drags the body back to the cave entrance and activates another transportation talisman. After checking that Lan Zhan is still out, he strips the corpse and redresses it in his own underrobes and then in the Wen guard robe he’d been wearing. He restyles the hair into his half ponytail, ties it with his red ribbon, and then drags the body to the edge of the cliff, and pushes it down. It lands with a dull thud and Wei Wuxian jumps after it, kicks it a bit until it lays where he wants. And then he uses a talisman to lift the boulder that nearly hit Lan Zhan, adjusts the snapped rope, and drops the boulder on top of the corpse.

”Sorry about that,” he murmurs and flies back up on Suibian. 

He wishes he could make Lan Zhan rest more comfortably. He wishes he could stay and help him or that he could at least leave him with provisions. But he can’t.

Because Wei Wuxian is almost certain Madam Yu wants him to infiltrate the Wen and doing that will be easier if Lan Zhan believes he’s dead. First, he wouldn’t go for any stupid alpha heroics like coming after him and trying to rescue him out of some misguided sense of obligation, and second… well. Now Lan Zhan will be free of him. Wei Wuxian has already messed with his mind twice without his consent and now he’s gone and whammed him with his omega wiles and…Lan Zhan is a Lan. He’s the Second Jade of Lan. It’s not like he would ever choose an omega like Wei Wuxian while sound of mind and soul.

With a sigh, Wei Wuxian makes sure to gather up everything that might be of evidence that he walked out uninjured, and then, before he leaves, he whispers, ”Goodbye, Lan Zhan.”

With yet another transportation talisman, he exits the cave, checks he leaves no incriminating footprints, and leaves. Lan Zhan will be fine. Jiang Cheng and the others know he’s still in the cave. 

And he’s pretty sure Nie Huaisang will know what to do anyway.

The first thing Wei Wuxian says to Madam Yu is not his report on what’s happened, it’s an accusing, ”Why didn’t you tell me Nie Huaisang is like me?”

Madam Yu pauses and gives him an incredulous look. ”First, what made you think you’re the only one? You are special, Wei Wuxian, but not that special.” She tilts her head a bit. ”Second, there’s no one like you. You’re a blunt force instrument, a battering ram of almost terrifying proportions. You are smart, cunning, and a genius in your own right but subtle you are not. You can deceive people when you need to but your attention span is minimal and your ability to, well, mastermind, isn’t your strong suit.” When Wei Wuxian makes a face, she rolls her eyes. ”There’s no need to be offended by the truth. Now, tell me what happened.”

Wei Wuxian pushes aside the small sting of hurt and falls into the familiar routine of giving his report. He goes through what he observed about the Wen troops, explains in detail how Wen Chao mocked the sect heirs and how he abused his power in general. When he gets to the part about the cave, Madam Yu watches him with narrowed eyes, paying close attention to everything. Wei Wuxian knows there’s no point in trying to paint Jiang Cheng in an overly heroic light but since he’s giving his honest statement, he still makes sure to point out how well Jiang Cheng did under pressure and proud he is of his shidi.

Madam Yu nods slowly. ”They arrived yesterday,” she says.

”They?”

”Wanyin and Lan Wangji. Huaisang had convinced him to return to the cave almost immediately to retrieve Young Master Lan and, apparently, their confiscated swords. Wanyin seemed perplexed of how Lan Wangji’s leg seemed to be in a better condition than it was before he’d been left behind,” Madam Yu pauses and raises a brow. ”Lan Wangji also seemed to be distraught. He was crying out for you through his fever.”

”Ah.” Wei Wuxian winces. ”That. He…um…might think I’m dead?”

”Explain.”

Wei Wuxian does.

”Hm. That’s probably for the best.” Madam Yu says after a moment of consideration. ”It doesn’t matter, though because Zewu-Jun will arrive later today to retrieve him.”

”And take him where?” Wei Wuxian can’t help but ask.

”I don’t know and it’s best they keep it a secret anyway,” Madam Yu says. ”As I said, you are an exceptionally strong omega, almost as strong as I am and your ability to think on your feet makes you a formidable opponent.” She falls silent, rolling Zidian in her finger, deep in thought. ”I had hoped to do more but I’m running out of time. Wen Ruohan is dabbling with powers no man should wield. He’s building something, a tool of demonic cultivation to overpower the whole cultivation world.” 

A cold certainty spreads in Wei Wuxian’s gut. 

Now he understands why Jiang-shushu and Madam Yu never reacted to Teacher Lan’s furious letters on how Wei Wuxian was interested in unorthodox cultivation methods and how the claims of him being a heretic didn’t seem to bother her. How long has she been planning to use him? Since his fall from Gusu? No, he’d been interested in unconventional cultivating long before that.

Since Jiang-shushu brought him home?

”There will be a war,” she says. ”We don’t know when and we don’t know how wide it will spread but that’s what will happen next. There’s a good chance all major sects will burn. Many people will die.” She sighs. ”I would like to say your most important task is to make sure Wanyin and Yanli make through it, that no matter what happens to me or Jiang Fengmian, you need to keep the heirs of Lotus Pier alive.”

Wei Wuxian bows deep. ”Yu-furen,” he says slowly, ”You don’t need to tell me that. I will keep my sister and brother safe.”

”I know that. Which is why you have to leave.”

”What?”

Something in Madam Yu’s eyes looks ancient and very, very sad. ”If Lotus Pier burns, it can be rebuilt. But if the whole world burns, there will be nothing and no one left to rebuild.”

He swallows. ”You mean…”

Madam Yu looks at him and says nothing.

Fuck. He closes his eyes. ”I understand, Yu-furen,” he whispers.

He will leave tomorrow.

Wei Wuxian wakes up to the smell of smoke.

Lotus Pier is burning.

With his heart hammering in his chest, he grabs his things and rushes out, barely bothering to activate a camouflage talisman to stay hidden. He’s desperately afraid he doesn’t make it in time, that he’s going to fail Madam Yu and A-Cheng and A-Li, so he pushes himself, jumps from rooftop to rooftop. Wen troops are everywhere, fighting the Jiang disciples desperately defending their homes. But there are just too many enemies, too many, everywhere, and one by one the disciples Wei Wuxian had trained himself are cut down and left bleeding on the ground. 

He wants to kill the Wen. All of them. But he can’t because he needs to find his shidi and shijie.

Madam Yu is fighting side by side with Jiang-shushu. They’re formidable together, Jiang-shushu’s reserved ferocity in tune with Madam Yu’s nearly wild unpredictability, and her maids spinning around them like blades come to life. The absence of Zidian’s familiar glare can only mean one thing: Madam Yu gave it away, and since there is only one person she would give it to, it has to mean that A-Cheng and A-Li are safe.

When Wen Zhuliu bursts into the training yard, Wei Wuxian desperately wants to shout out a warning. He wants to do something, anything, but all he can do is to watch in helpless horror as The Core-Melting Hand coolly dispatches of Madam Yu’s maids, pins Madam Yu herself on the ground with a sword through her shoulder, and forces her to watch as he destroys Jiang-shushu’s golden core in front of her eyes.

Wei Wuxian presses his hand on his mouth to prevent himself from being violently sick.

For the briefest of moments, Madam Yu’s eyes dart to the roof and, somehow, she knows Wei Wuxian is there. The feeling of impending thunder is the only warning he gets before her command tears through his mind.

RUN!

Wei Wuxian gasps, clutching his temples. He’s felt her send him commands before, during training, but nothing like this, never anything like this. He sways as his eyes go blurry with pain but he obeys because he knows what will follow, he knows what Madam Yu will do, and if he doesn’t run, now, he’ll die.

There’s no time for anything, no time for goodbyes, no time for bows, nothing. He scrambles down from the roof and runs as fast as he can, trying to keep an eye out for Jiang disciples or Yunmeng common people but he sees nothing but dead, so many dead, so many lost lives…

When Madam Yu’s spiritual energy, combined with her omega powers she’s honed for decades, slams into him, he falls to his knees with a whimper. Gasping for breath, he shields himself like Teacher Yu and Madam Yu taught him and then hangs on.

”Two more things before you go,” Madam Yu had said before Wei Wuxian had gone after Jiang Cheng. ”The first one is for the moment you have to get everyone to leave. It’s a compulsion, extremely hard to resist. The second one…” Her voice had trailed away before she’d visibly steeled herself. ”Is for when all hope is lost. It is the ultimate weapon you have, the one that will tear through the minds of everyone around you, shred their spiritual energy to pieces, and kill them. It will make them bleed and hurt, and the more powerful you are, the harder it will hit the ones you want to hurt. It can save those you love but using it will kill you.”

Wei Wuxian kneels on the hard ground surrounded by dead Jiang disciples, blood trickling from his nose and ears, and weeps.

Lan Wangji used to think there was order in the world.

Cloud Recesses was home.

Rules were important.

Self-regulation led to contentment.

Being a good alpha meant adhering to the rules, respecting Uncle and the Elders, and perfecting his cultivation.

Then Wei Ying entered the Cloud Recesses and nothing made sense anymore.

There was no order, no sense, no regulation.

There was Wei Ying, his unbearable closeness, his unabashed curiosity, his undeniable pull.

And for the first time in his life, Lan Wangji lost control.

(If he closes his eyes, he can recall the days in the library as if they happened only moments ago.)

Wei Ying’s mischievous smile had taunted his every waking (and most of his sleeping) moment, the sensual curve of his neck, and the roundness of his shoulder. The way he moved like he was a stream, sometimes erratic and curving around an obstacle but always speeding forward, and Lan Wangji was a rock on the riverbed, immovable, watching the stream run and run and run past him. He wanted to reach out and dip into that bubbling, bright energy but he didn’t know how. So he held back and said nothing.

Lan Wangji prided himself on his control. He’d never needed to strengthen the spell embedded in his forehead ribbon. He’d never been tempted, never felt the need to touch before. But Wei Ying changed that. He tore through Lan Wangji’s careful boundaries and left him confused and angry with himself, unable to find his equilibrium in meditation or music.

Being named as the one to supervise Wei Ying’s punishment was both a blessing and a curse. It was a blessing because even though Lan Wangji didn’t know what to say—didn’t feel like himself with Wei Ying, the chance to share space with him was time he cherished. And it was a curse because Wei Ying was tempting, shameless, bold in the way he almost crawled into Lan Wangji’s lap and—gods—his scent. It curled around him like a caress and tempted him to touch and take, and Lan Wangji tried to keep calm and fall back to the familiar rhythm of meditative breathing but all it did was to push the tantalizing, mouth-watering scent deeper into his olfactory system. He was wrapped in the warm, hazy pleasure of it and then it somehow grew even sharper, demanding. He gasped only to taste the scent in the back of his mouth and craved more, more, more. He wanted to bury himself in that scent, in Wei Ying, and never let go.

(He still wants that. Ferociously. Desperately.)

The soft creak of the table and a disturbance of his inkstone jolted him from his daze and his eyes flew open and Wei Ying was there, swaying forward with those temping lips so, so close to Lan Wangji. He let out a breath and saw Wei Ying’s lashes flutter like delicate butterflies, and he wanted to reach out his hand to trace a finger along the soft skin, wanted to cup Wei Ying’s cheek and turn his face up, wanted to press his thumb on that plump lower lip and push Wei Ying’s mouth open, wanted to—

He scrambled back, desperately gripping his rapidly fraying self-control, spat out words he didn’t hear and clenched his hands into fists so tight his nails drew blood, and fled the library with unseeing eyes. He slammed into the Jingshi and sealed the door behind him with one talisman and erected privacy walls with another that almost caught fire with his excessive use of spiritual energy. He paced the living area like a caged animal, and with need burning under his skin and Wei Ying in his mind, he descended into a rut faster than ever before. He spiraled, uncontrollably, into ten days of a near-constant state of arousal that none of his usual coping mechanisms seemed to alleviate. 

He didn’t understand himself but he soon realized he didn’t even want to because all he wanted was Wei Ying.

Wei Ying reduced him to his primal, unhinged state and Lan Wangji ached for him. He wanted to pin Wei Ying to the bed and rip his robes off, peel him bare in the shielded privacy of the Jingshi, map his every curve and plane with his tongue and teeth until he knew all of him, everything. He wanted to explore every hidden valley of Wei Ying, worship him until all he could do was to shiver with pleasure, and bury himself into the tight, slick heat and burrow into Wei Ying until neither of them knew where the one ended and the other began. He wanted to sink his teeth on the side of Wei Ying’s neck, break the bonding gland, and seal them together, Lan Wangji and Wei Ying, the alpha and the omega. He wanted to make Wei Ying beg and scream and sob and gasp and come so hard he’d black out and then curl around him and keep him. 

He wanted and he wanted and he fucked into his hand and climaxed again and again and again, biting into the sleeve of his own robe, the one Wei Ying had fleetingly touched and that carried the memory of his scent, and it did nothing, it helped nothing because Lan Wangji wanted.

He spent ten days in that intense, agonizing, glorious fever dream fantasizing about all the things he’d do to Wei Ying. He fantasized about things Wei Ying let him do and things he didn’t let him do but what Lan Wangji did anyway and the dark need that curled in him made him sick because it was wrong and he was wrong and still, Lan Wangji wanted.

Ten days.

When it was finally over, he sprawled on his bed, disgusted in himself, feeling weak and brittle in a way he didn’t recall ever feeling before. When he changed the sheets, he averted his mind from the feel of the come-hardened fabric and when he washed himself, he felt grim satisfaction about the way his spent cock hurt to touch. He aired the Jingshi and swiped the floor and then reprimanded himself for stalling.

Ten days, and he still hesitated to leave the safety of his rooms and face Wei Ying again.

And when it happened—

Wei Ying’s scent yanked him right back to the cloud of lust he’d barely made through and he lashed out and Wei Ying—

Wei Ying mocked him. For a moment, the only thing Lan Wangji could hear was the ringing in his ears and then Uncle was there, berating Wei Ying while Brother stood there and fellow disciples looked on and Wei Ying reached out and Lan Wangji couldn’t—he couldn’t let that happen because if Wei Ying touched him then he’d break into pieces and beg, and he couldn’t do that to either of them so he left.

He walked away and stayed in his rooms for three days, meditating and trying to piece himself back together.

And three days later, when he slowly, carefully made his way to share tea with Uncle and Brother as was their custom, he learned Wei Ying had been expelled. Uncle had publicly accused Wei Ying of forcing his scent on Lan Wangji, of forcing him into a rut, sealing Wei Ying’s fate. He was disgraced, thrown out of the Cloud Recesses and, Uncle said with a satisfied smile, from Yunmeng Jiang.

And then Brother quietly told him that the only reason Wei Ying’s scent would push Wangji into an early rut was if they were highly compatible, destined to be mates.

It hadn’t been a fever dream. It had been a mating rut.

The dark, possessive thing curled around Lan Wangji’s core lashed out in pain and rage. It was the first and only time he raised his voice against his Elder but he didn’t care. Uncle had violated Wei Ying—Uncle had hurt Wei Ying and while he had done it to protect Lan Wangji, his actions had caused irreparable damage.

Lan Wangji yelled at Uncle, screamed so loud his voice broke but it didn’t help. It did nothing but earned him a beating that left deep welts in his back and even deeper bitterness in his heart. 

He was ordered to spend two weeks in seclusion to reflect his behavior but he didn’t care. Brother came to see him and told him the tale of how Mother had drugged Father and triggered his rut that had led to their mating and how Father had never fully accepted it. Lan Wangji didn’t care. 

Brother told him Uncle had felt he was witnessing history to repeat itself and had acted accordingly. Lan Wangji didn’t care.

Because Wei Ying was gone and in the place where Lan Wangji’s heart had been beating was suddenly a gaping cavity filled with so much pain he was too afraid to examine it more closely.

(If he could travel back in time now, he would. He would go back to that time and order Uncle to be silent and reflect his own memories; he would fall on his knees and plead Wei Ying to stay; he would say Wei Ying all the things he hadn’t. Would it have made a difference? Would Wei Ying be still alive?)

Time passed. A month, two months, six months, a year, and the ache in Lan Wangji’s heart didn’t go away. It stayed and made a home in him, gnawed a space for itself despite Lan Wangji’s tries to appease it. When meditation didn’t work, he tried knowledge: he spent days going through the indexes in the general section of the library and then moved on to the restricted section. He ignored Brother’s pinched look and turned his back when he saw Uncle approaching. It was petty and unfilial but he didn’t care. 

What he found frustrated him to no end but it also washed him with relief. No, a mere scent couldn’t force a rut but if certain conditions were met, a scent could trigger it. Yes, it was possible to induce (read: force) a heat or rut but it required training and medical knowledge and—considering Lan Wangji found this information on the restricted section—was highly questionable and in most sects, banned. Which raised questions about Mother but he pushed them away for time being.

Wei Ying hadn’t doused him with anything else but his scent. 

Wei Ying hadn’t drugged him.

Instead, Wei Ying was so compatible with him that his scent had called out for Lan Wangji, pushed through all his defenses. He had triggered Lan Wangji’s mating rut and the reason he’d felt so brittle and raw afterward wasn’t an aftereffect of some nefarious scheme but simply the fact that he’d gone through it alone.

And now, he was here: alone, heart-bruised, and confused about his own feelings and Wei Ying.

He finished his studies and took his examinations as usual, staring expressionlessly forward as Uncle complimented him on his results. He volunteered to supervise night-hunts and returned to the Cloud Recesses only long enough to fill in his reports and restock his travel rations before departing again. Since meditation didn’t bring him the peace he was used to, he chose to fill his days with something else, instead.

Besides, he could always claim he was gathering information about the Wen.

It was one of those night-hunts that led him and a group of juniors to Ezhou. The night-hunt had gone well and the juniors had excelled, and Lan Wangji tasked them to find an inn and make the necessary arrangements.

He hadn’t known. 

And if he had, he would’ve entered anyway.

Even through the full dining room, his eyes were drawn to the small table on the side, to a familiar shape clad in black robes, to Wei Ying.

He looked good. Healthy. Beautiful, Lan Wangji’s mind whispered. He was sitting alone, the red ribbon a bright slash of color in his hair, holding a bottle of alcohol in his hand. He was relaxed and at ease, at least until a ruddy, uncouth man started bothering him. Lan Wangji reacted on pure instinct: he stormed toward Wei Ying’s table only to hear Wei Ying tell the man off. The man opened his mouth to answer but he saw Lan Wangji at the same time that Lan Wangji caught his scent and his urge to chase a rival alpha away flared. He leveled a glare at the other man and felt a surge of fierce satisfaction as he visibly cowed and left.

Wei Ying narrowed his eyes at him and all he wanted to make sure he was alright but when he opened his mouth, all he managed was, ”Wei Ying, what are you doing here?” It came out wrong, all wrong, because Wei Ying’s already pinched look darkened and he snapped and hissed like an angered cat and stormed out. He wasn’t carrying his sword.

Lan Wangji sighed, resigned. He was ready to retreat to bed when he saw the alpha stalking out after Wei Ying. Something other than petty jealousy made him uncomfortable and he followed, trying not to seem too obvious. He exited the inn just in time to witness Wei Ying stumble and nearly fall and the alpha advancing on him. 

The pure, undiluted rage he felt nearly knocked the breath out of him, but before he even had the chance to act, Wei Ying slammed the alpha across the street with enough force to break bones and crack skulls. It made the dark, possessive thing inside Lan Wangji purr with delight but he pushed it down as he hurried to Wei Ying’s side—and reeled back.

Heat.

Wei Ying was in heat.

It shouldn’t have been possible. There had been no signs of preheat, no budding, rising heat-scent, nothing. Wei Ying shouldn’t have gone into full heat in the span of time it took him to make his way from his table to where they stood, not unless—

Lan Wangji bit back a growl, viciously happy the other alpha was most likely dead. He got exactly what he deserved, he thought, and then all his thoughts were wiped from his mind because Wei Ying was in heat and in front of him, smelling delicious and ripe and right. He wanted to make sure Wei Ying was alright, wanted to keep him safe, wanted to protect him and he tried so hard to be respectful and keep his distance but it didn’t matter because it came out wrong, he said the wrong thing again, he made Wei Ying want to leave.

Except that Wei Ying stumbled and nearly fell and Lan Wangji yanked him up with too much force and then Wei Ying was in his arms, so close, and to his utter shame, Lan Wangji lost control. One look into Wei-Ying’s wide eyes and the heat-blush on his cheeks was all it took for Lan Wangji to take what wasn’t his to take. He kissed Wei Ying, claimed his mouth like he had any right to do so, and Wei Ying, in his heat-addled state, yielded to him and Lan Wangji took even more, wanted to drown in it, wanted to suck and taste and drink and mine—

A small, hurt sound tore through his mind and he reared back, horrified of his own behavior. Wei Ying stared at him with a confused look that turned to betrayal and disgust and then he drew his sword from his sleeve  and fled. Lan Wangji followed him, told himself he wasn’t chasing his omega but was looking after someone he had failed, someone precious to him, but his alpha hindbrain wanted him to push, to catch, to claim. 

He didn’t. 

He followed Wei Ying’s scent trail until he saw Lotus Pier looming in the distance, and then he hovered there, wanting to be certain that Wei Ying made it to safety.

He returned to Gusu, gave a clipped report on why he had disappeared on the disciples, and stared at the opposite wall as Uncle berated him for abandoning his charges and returning with his clothes in disarray and an omega’s heat-scent in his clothes. He claimed fatigue to evade Brother’s questions and then retreated to Jingshi, only to wake up in the early hours to the now-familiar signs of a rut.

It was shorter this time but left Lan Wangji just as brittle afterward, and the only thing he could think about was, Twice. Wei Ying has now triggered me twice. 

What did it mean? 

Did it even mean anything?

Whatever it was, it wouldn’t matter until Lan Wangji came clean. He had acted improperly, taken advantage, which meant he had to explain himself. He had to make sure Wei Ying understood that no matter what Lan Qiren said, Lan Wangji didn’t accuse him of anything because the only one to be blamed was himself—especially after what happened in Ezhou. He needed to make Wei Ying understand just how deeply ashamed of his loss of control Lan Wangji was.

His need to beg for forgiveness overrode his common sense and as soon as his strength had returned, he hurried to Lotus Pier. He walked in to see Wei Ying make his way across the yard in only his red underrobes and wet hair clinging to his back and the sight stunned him speechless. It was nothing, however, compared to how he felt when he saw the panic in Wei Ying’s eyes.

Wei Ying was terrified and Lan Wangji hated himself for making him feel like that. Wei Ying wasn’t supposed to be afraid, he was supposed to be sharp humor, twinkling eyes, and peals of unrestrained laughter and not this, never this, never flinching away from him. 

Lan Wangji wanted to apologize but not with Jiang Wanyin. While he was ready to fall on his knees in front of Wei Ying, he’d rather do that in private first.

But he didn’t have the chance.

Because Madam Yu arrived, shrouded in fury and justice, Zidian crackling in her hand. Lan Wangji tried to be respectful but it was all being rapidly buried under his rising panic. Madam Yu knew what he’d done, he knew how Lan Wangji had dishonored Wei Ying and he needed to explain, he was ready to beg—

—And then Madam Yu did something. 

Lan Wangji was standing in the middle of Lotus Pier’s training yard and then an immense power pushed him down, squeezed through his brain, and forced him to his knees in front of Madam Yu. He had never in his life felt anything like that. In the middle of his mind slowly being forced to submission, he heard Madam Yu’s comment of expecting more from a Lan, and then he flew across the yard and slammed on the ground. 

The next thing he knew, he was outside Lotus Pier’s main gate, watching as the guards turned their backs and walked back to their stations.

He wanted to go back and beg Wei Ying to hear his apology.

He wanted to go back and erase the fear in Wei Ying’s eyes.

He wanted to make sure Wei Ying knew just how much he meant to Lan Wangji.

He wanted—

He wanted many things.

But he had been completely, thoroughly dismissed. Madam Yu had done what Lan Wangji had failed at: she had protected Wei Ying.

Defeated, Lan Wangji returned to Gusu and entered seclusion.

(Sometimes, he wishes he didn’t know how Wei Ying’s lips feel against his own. Surely it would be easier to repent if he didn’t yearn for things he never had the right to feel?)

He buried his self-loathing and yearning in night-hunts. It didn’t help but at least the Lan disciples were thoroughly trained.

And then, Gusu was burning. Brother was missing. Father was dead. Uncle was gravely injured.

And Lan Wangji? He was beaten and taken prisoner.

He was the only Gusu Lan representative in the Wen indoctrination camp. Everyone else was either dead or in hiding.

Lan Wangji was injured and alone and the only thing that brought him any joy was that at least Wei Ying’s disgrace spared him from the mistreatment in Wen soldiers’ hands. Especially considering how they treated omegas, if the rumors were true.

When Wen Chao finally dragged them to Dusk-Creek Mountain and left them in the cave of The Tortoise of Slaughter to die, Lan Wangi had made peace with himself. He was weak and feverish and his leg was infected, and with all means of escape sealed off, it was unlikely he would survive.

But then, somehow, miraculously, Wei Ying was there. Dressed as a Wen guard, part of his spiritual energy sealed off, camouflaged with talismans Lan Wangji had never even heard of, his voice changed, his scent muted… But it was him. For a short moment, Lan Wangji was sure his fever had spiked and he was delirious but it truly was Wei Ying. Why or how, Lan Wangji didn’t know. All he felt was the crystal-clear, calm resolution that no matter what happened, he would stand by Wei Ying. He would help the others to escape, he would help Wei Ying escape.

He had failed Wei Ying twice now. He wouldn’t fail again.

He acted as the lure to keep the monster from attacking the others and it worked splendidly until it didn’t. The others made it to safety, stranding Wei Ying and Lan Wangji in the cave with the enraged monster. Lan Wangji had seen the alcove earlier which was the only reason he managed to hide in there, and when Wei Ying scrambled away from the monster, it felt natural to yank him to safety. To the alcove.

Into Lan Wangji’s arms.

He could feel Wei Ying’s heart beating under his palm, frantic and slowly calming down, and when Wei Ying let himself relax, Lan Wangji had to hold himself back from clutching him close and burying his nose in Wei Ying’s neck. Even though the Tortoise of Slaughter raged and trashed right next to their hiding spot, it was perhaps the most perfect moment of Lan Wangji’s life. Wei Ying was alive and breathing and full of life and Lan Wangji could pretend he was there willingly. His to hold, his to cherish, his. 

If only he had stayed silent.

If only he hadn’t forced Wei Ying to reveal himself.

He couldn’t help himself—it was almost like Wei Ying’s name was a benediction his mouth was compelled to say and he was powerless to stop it. 

He fell asleep while watching Wei Ying pour all his genius, frenetic energy into whatever he was planning to kill the monster with, and all Lan Wangji could think about was, He’s beautiful. He dreamed of happier times, of them in rebuilt Cloud Recesses, of them walking together, of Wei Ying in his arms, of Wei Ying in Jingshi, in the cold pond, with Lan Wangji’s forehead ribbon wrapped around his wrist, Wei Ying, Wei Ying, Wei Ying…

Wei Ying killed the monster, of course he did. And when the cavern started to tremble and collapse, he supported Lan Wangji, helped him to climb up, helped him up, and pushed him out of the way of a massive boulder. Lan Wangji collapsed on the cliff, screaming in desperation as the boulder crashed on where Wei Ying was climbing after him and tore down everything Lan Wangji found worth living for. He screamed and screamed and reached down in vain because Wei Ying was gone and—

—Something reached out for him, embraced him in calm and peace so soft and tender he wanted to cry, and then he was crying because this was Wei Ying, this had to be Wei Ying, but why would he do that, Lan Wangji didn’t deserve it, didn’t deserve Wei Ying’s scent and soul reaching out for Lan Wangji and stupidly soothing him even though Wei Ying himself was down there dying and Wei Ying was saying goodbye and—

He slowly swam to consciousness, he was in a strange bed in a strange room and someone was gently stroking his hair. ”Wei Ying?” He asked, hoarse and broken, but it was Brother who pressed his forehead against his and whispered, ”I’m sorry, Wangji, I’m so sorry.”

Wei Ying had saved them all.

Wei Ying had saved him and all Lan Wangji could think of was, It wasn’t worth it.

Lan Wangji is alive while Wei Ying, brilliant, shining Wei Ying lies buried under rocks in the cave of an ancient monster. For what? For saving Lan Wangji’s life? 

”Wangji,” Brother says, soft, heartbroken, pleading him to come back from the brink he’s been since Wei Ying left him.

And Lan Wangji doesn’t know what to say so he says nothing. He turns his head, grips Wei Ying’s torn and bloody red ribbon in his hand, and lets his tears flow freely, the echo of Wei Ying’s laughter in his ears and the ghost of his scent in his nose.

Wei Ying is dead and Lan Wangji isn’t sure why he is still allowed to live.

Wei Wuxian is kneeling next to Jiang-shushu and Madam Yu’s bodies when Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli rush in. 

”You!” Jiang Cheng growls and marches to Wei Wuxian, grips him by his disheveled robe, and yanks him up. ”Where the fuck have you been?”

Wei Wuxian blinks up at him. His ears are ringing and his heart is still hammering in his chest and it’s hard to breathe but, ”I was away— She told me to—”

”Mother told you to, what?” Jiang Cheng demands, face contorted with grief and anger. ”Where were you when they died? Not here, I guess, because you’re fine and they are dead!”

”A-Cheng,” Jiang Yanli says softly. She isn’t chiding him, she’s too grief-stricken for that but she reaches out for him and Wei Wuxian both. ”Please, don’t,” she pleads. 

Jiang Cheng deflates and falls on his knees, oblivious to the congealed blood and viscera staining his robes. ”Where were you when they needed you?” He whispers. 

Out of range, Wei Wuxian wants to tell him. I ran because she told me to. I wasn’t here because she had a job for me. ”I’m here now,” he says instead, kneels next to Jiang Cheng, and grips his shoulder.

”And they’re dead,” Jiang Cheng says and shrugs his hand off. 

Wei Wuxian tells himself the rebuke doesn’t sting, it’s just the way Jiang Cheng is when he’s hurting. 

It doesn’t work.

It’s still early, the sun barely above the horizon, but the air is already simmering with heat. They need to start removing the corpses out of the open so that they won’t start rotting but it seems like Jiang Cheng is unable to do that. Wei Wuxian shares a look with a-jie and when she nods, he pushes himself up and turns to the main gate.

”Where the fuck are you going?”

Wei Wuxian sighs. ”I thought I’d start with the clean-up. The disciples who were with their families will be here soon and I’m going to go out to meet them.” He waits for a moment but when Jiang Cheng doesn’t comment further, he walks out.

The cruel truth is, he knows he’ll have to leave. Sooner rather than later, he needs to make his way to Nightless City and Wen Ruohan. He knows he has to but he doesn’t want to, and it’s not only because he isn’t that thrilled about meeting the possibly very insane Chief Cultivator. No, it’s because… 

He sighs. If he walks out now, it will be a permanent wedge between him and Jiang Cheng. He might lose his brother for good.

Not for the first time since Madam Yu’s power dropped him on his knees, Wei Wuxian wishes he’d just  walked away. Why hadn’t he? Why hadn’t he run like he was supposed to? Why did he stay? Why did he let A-Cheng and A-Li see him?

”Da-shixiong!” Someone calls out, jerking Wei Wuxian from his thoughts. 

A small group of disciples approaches running, their eyes wide as they take in the bodies lying on the ground in pools of blood. Their scents are all over the place, anxious and scared, but they pull themselves together as they reach Wei Wuxian. 

”Da-shixiong, what happened?” The first one—Liu-something-something, Wei Wuxian is a terrible person for not remembering her name—asks. ”Where is Sect Leader Jiang?” 

”Don’t call me that,” Wei Wuxian says. ”I’m no longer your da-shixiong.” He grits his teeth and digs the heels of his hands into his eyes so hard he sees stars, and then he slowly, carefully, lets out a long breath. ”The Wen attacked last night,” he says grimly. ”Sect Leader Jiang and Madam Yu gave their lives to keep Lotus Pier safe.” He glances behind him and sees several thin pillars of black smoke trailing up in the still morning air. Something in his chest clenches. ”Everything is under control…for now.”

The disciples hang to his every word, desperately waiting for Wei Wuxian to tell them what to do. He squares his shoulders and clears his throat. 

”Okay then. You four,” he points at disciple Liu and three other disciples, ”run inside and make sure all fires are put out. Check the buildings and make notes on all damaged areas. Write down everything and also mark down if you can come up with a solution how to fix the damages right away. You,” he points at three grim-faces beta disciples. ”Move your fallen shidis and shijies to the side, I’ll come to see you later. The rest are with me.”

”Senior Wei,” disciple Liu asks hesitantly before he turns to leave, ”What about Young Master Jiang and Lady Jiang?”

He gives her a tight smile. ”They are inside. They arrived only a short while ago, so they weren’t here during the attack.” They all understand what he doesn’t say: Give them space.

He motions disciple Liu and her companions forward and jerks his head at the rest. ”We need to take care of the other bodies,” he says grimly.

Burying bodies in a mass grave is never a good thing, however necessary it might be during wartime. They pile the Wen corpses on carts and haul them some ways from Lotus Pier and then use a good while to dig the grave. Wei Wuxian lines its walls and floor with talismans, adds more here and there in between the bodies and on top of them before they fill the grave up, and when they’re done, they offer some extra prayers just to be safe. There’s no guarantee that none of the bodies will get restless but other than praying and burning paper money, there’s not much they can do.

And they’ve only taken care of the Wen corpses.

With a heavy heart, Wei Wuxian makes his way back to count the dead Jiang disciples. He’d trained most of them himself—they were good disciples and Wei Wuxian knows in his heart they’d done everything they could to keep their home safe. The remaining disciples stand to the side with tears in their eyes as Wei Wuxian walks from one body to the next, kneels by their side to whisper a prayer and a small blessing, and thanks them for their sacrifice, wishing their souls a safe journey. If he could, he’d talk to each and every one of them to ask if they had any last wishes or greetings to their loved ones. But he can’t. The dead have all the time in the world but Wei Wuxian is still in the world of the living, he doesn’t have the luxury. 

After the last prayer leaves his lips, he closes his eyes for a moment before turning to face Lotus Pier’s main gate. He knows Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli will take charge of the funeral preparations of Jiang Fengmian and Madam Yu and after everything that’s happened, Wei Wuxian is hesitant to intrude. He can and will pay his respects to Jiang-shushu and Madam Yu in private. He isn’t sure if he’s welcomed to do that in public.

…especially after Jiang Cheng learns he’s going to leave.

He knows he’s stalling. 

He should’ve left right after taking care of cleaning the mess the Wen left behind but there had been the funeral and then Jiang Cheng pushed him to dun drills with the handful of disciples they have remaining and Wei Wuxian sort of…never got around to leave? But the fact is that he’s trying to enjoy these last moments he has with his shidi and shijie, the last times they’ll sit around a table together, the last times shijie boops his nose and Jiang Cheng punches his shoulder.

He knows he’s stalling and yet, somehow, he doesn’t make it out of the gates…until the messenger arrives.

He’s dusty and travel-worn and bows low to the guards and then again to Wei Wuxian. ”A package for Young Master Wei of Lotus Pier,” he says, holding out a parcel wrapped in plain, brown paper with no indication where or from whom it’s from.

”Huh,” Wei Wuxian says and frowns. ”Who sent it?” 

The messenger bows again. ”I don’t know. It was handed to me when I was on my way back to Yunmeng and told to deliver to you and you only,” he says and then hesitates. ”You are Young Master Wei, right?”

The messenger is a young beta male, clearly nervous to be inside Lotus Pier. Wei Wuxian smiles, amused, and brushes him with his scent to calm him down. ”Yep, that’s me,” he says cheerfully and tilts his head a bit. ”The one who handed you this, what did he look like?”

The messenger starts to babble with a slightly dazed look in his eyes and gives out absolutely nothing of value. Wei Wuxian dismisses the man, ignoring the starstruck way the man glances back at him when he’s escorted out.

A careful poke with his spiritual energy tells him the package is exactly that, a package with no hidden traps or ill intent. It’s a rectangle, shorter than his forearm, and quite light. Paper, most likely. A scroll? But who would send him a scroll? He shrugs and pushes the puzzle back in his mind and returns to the disciples.

Later, when the training is over and he’s shared a tense meal with Jiang Cheng and A-jie, he retreats to his room and opens the package. It holds a rectangle box made of light wood and when his finger brushes the lid, he feels a small zing. He taps the lid again but nothing happens.

”Interesting,” he murmurs and carefully pushes the lid open.

Inside the box is a fan.

Wei Wuxian snorts. Of course. 

He lifts the fan out of the box and opens it. It’s beautifully crafted with dark, almost black wood and delicate, red paper folded with immaculate precision and painted with meticulous care. It pictures a mountain with a setting sun and a serene forest in front of it, housing a small hut under one tree. It’s easily one of the most beautiful fans he’s ever seen but it’s no surprise. Huaisang’s fans have always been exquisite.

He snaps the fan closed and taps it against his cheek. So. Apparently, Nie Huaisang picked up where Madam Yu left off? She’d hinted at it back when Wei Wuxian returned from his ordeal with the Tortoise of Slaughter. Whatever this is, Wei Wuxian figures he better do what Huaisang tells him to.

He also knows he has to do it now. 

Call it fate, call it fatalism, but he never truly unpacked. His qiankun pouches, his rations, everything he needs is still neatly waiting for him in the small cabin that had been his home base whenever he returned from wherever Madam Yu sent him. But this time, he knows he won’t be coming back. So he picks up his things, leaves the cabin as bare as it had been the first time he entered, and makes his way to Jiang Cheng.

Jiang Cheng, unsurprisingly, throws a fit.

”You’re doing what?” He exclaims as Wei Wuxian tells him he’s leaving. ”Where? Why? And who the fuck told you you could?”

”I can’t tell you,” Wei Wuxian says.

Jiang Cheng leans forward, crowds into his space. ”I’m your Sect Leader, you’re the Head Disciple of Yunmeng Jiang, I order you to tell me,” he growls.

Wei Wuxian closes his eyes and steels himself. ”Respectfully, no.” He straightens his back, reins in his scent, and gives Jiang Cheng a calm look. ”I haven’t been the Head Disciple for over a year,” he says. ”And you haven’t been officially recognized as the Sect Leader yet.”

”As an acting Sect Leader—” Jiang Cheng snarls, pushing with his alpha scent. But he’s never been a match to Wei Wuxian and scents are no exception.

”No,” Wei Wuxian says and bats his alpha scent aside, his heart breaking at the stricken look in Jiang Cheng’s eyes.

”You promised me,” Jiang Cheng says. ”You promised you’d be by my side—you promised we’d be the Twin Heroes of Yunmeng Jiang!”

”I’m sorry,” Wei Wuxian says, not meeting his eyes.

For a moment, there’s silence. Then Jiang Cheng draws a breath. ”Get out,” he says in a toneless voice. 

Wei Wuxian doesn’t argue. He doesn’t try explaining himself. He bows, turns, and walks out. He’s at the door when Jiang Cheng’s voice stops him.

”Wei Wuxian, if you walk out now, don’t bother coming back.”

It hurts. There’s a deep, visceral pain hidden under the venom that drips from Jiang Cheng’s voice, and it hurts. It slashes through his chest like Zidian that crackles in Jiang Cheng’s finger and Wei Wuxian knows he’ll carry it for the rest of his life, just like the scars in his back. And yet, he unhooks the Jiang clarity bell from his belt and gently sets it on the side table by the door, right as the door opens and someone steps in. He looks up to meet shijie’s stricken eyes.

”A-Xian?” She asks softly.

He brushes her cheek with his scent, trying to convey everything she means to him in that one, fleeting touch, and whispers, ”Goodbye, shijie.”

And then he leaves.

Walking away from Jiang Cheng hurts but shijie’s frantic, ”A-Xian, wait!” almost brings him to his knees. But he leaves, hating himself just a bit more with each step he takes, chanting how this is how it has to go, how this is what Madam Yu wanted, how this is what is needed from him. 

If he repeats it enough, will he hate himself less?

He arrives at the small hut on nightfall two days later. It’s a secluded place and exactly where absolutely no one would expect to meet Young Master Nie. Nie Huaisang is waiting for him inside, seated on a slightly shabby cushion and lazily tapping his forefinger against the fan on his lap. It’s white and green this time, ivory if Wei Wuxian had to guess. 

As soon as he enters, several silencing talismans activate around the small space and Nie Huaisang looks up.

”Wei-xiong,” Nie Huaisang greets him with a slight smile. 

”Should I start calling you the Grey Spider?” Wei Wuxian asks and sits down. 

There are two cups and a sealed wine bottle on the table. Nie Huaisang stirs the bottle, opens it, pours a drink for himself, and downs it at one go before turning the cup upside down on the table. ”Please don’t,” he says. ”I don’t like spiders. They creep me out.” He shivers and snaps the fan open to fan himself.

Wei Wuxian pours for himself and drinks. The wine is very good—way better than the bottle would suggest—and it burns just right going down. He pours again, first for Nie Huaisang and then for himself. They drink.

”Did she tell you what’s coming?” Nie Huaisang asks.

Wei Wuxian pours again, then lifts his cup and frowns into it. ”War. But I already knew that. The Cloud Recesses is in ashes and so is much of Lotus Pier. What about Unclean Realm?”

”Our walls are high and thick,” Nie Huaisang says softly. ”The Wen tried but they mostly failed.”

”I’m glad to hear that,” Wei Wuxian says, genuinely relieved.

They drink.

”Curiously, Koi Tower is untouched,” Nie Huaisang murmurs and glances at him from behind his fan. 

”That is, indeed, curious,” Wei Wuxian agrees. ”But that’s not why you asked me to come.”

Nie Huaisang inclines his head. ”No.”

Wei Wuxian closes his eyes and huffs a bitter laugh. ”I keep wondering how long she planned for this. Did I ever have a chance?” The wine burns and he pretends that’s why his eyes burn, too.

”I don’t think there’s much point in wondering about might-have-beens,” Nie Huaisang says quietly. ”We can’t change the past.”

”I know that. It’s just…” He sighs. ”Jiang Cheng practically threw me out.”

”Really?” The glint in Nie Huaisang’s eyes tells Wei Wuxian he already knew. He is neither surprised nor offended.

”I was stupid. Yu-furen told me to run and I should’ve but I stayed anyway. And now, my shidi hates me.” He throws back another drink.

Nie Huaisang closes his fan with a snap and taps it against his lips. ”You could use that to your advantage.” When Wei Wuxian gives him an incredulous look, he rolls his eyes. ”He doesn’t really hate you and you know that. But since the Lan threw you out and now Yunmeng Jiang followed suit, use that. The Wen will ask why you came to them and being thrown out from two prominent sects is as good a story as you’ll get.” He smiles. ”And you don’t have to pretend to be hurt over something that didn’t really happen.”

”What about you?” Wei Wuxian can’t help but ask, wondering how Nie Mingjue and his rage issues are taking the whole Wen war campaign thing. When all Nie Huaisang does is shrug, he scowls into his cup. ”Fine. Keep your secrets.” 

”Yes, I supposed I will,” Nie Huaisang says amicably and laughs when Wei Wuxian sticks his tongue out. 

They chat about nothing in particular for some time, emptying the bottle drink by drink. After Wei Wuxian pours out the last drops, he sighs and sets the bottle in the middle of the table. 

”Tell me what you can,” he says.

”Sect Leader Wen isn’t the only player in this game,” Nie Huaisang says, ”but the others are mostly nuisances you don’t have to worry about. However, you’re the only one who can make it to Wen Ruohan. Go to him, charm him, study him and with him, if he allows it. Use your secondary gender as you see fit. If possible, try to prevent him from finishing the tool he’s constructing.”

Wei Wuxian nods, troubled. His knowledge of demonic cultivation is sparse, mostly because he never made it into the restricted area of the Lan library. Too bad, he could’ve used those books now. 

”I wish I could just… poison the wells of Nightless City or something,” he grumbles.

Nie Huaisang tilts his head. ”That would’ve been convenient, yes. Sadly, we have no idea how it would work with—”

”—Demonic cultivation, I know,” Wei Wuxian sighs. ”Besides, not all Wen deserve to die. Most of them, probably, yes, but not all.”

”Oh, I almost forgot! I have something for you,” Nie Huaisang exclaims (like Wei Wuxian would believe for a moment he’s ever forgotten anything) and reaches into his sleeve for a qiankun pouch. It looks shabby and worn but when he holds it out for Wei Wuxian, he can feel the embedded spiritual power from across the table. It zaps his fingers when he takes it and he raises a brow. 

”Another package just for me?” He asks and bats his lashes.

Nie Huaisang snorts. ”You’ll understand when you look inside.”

Curious, Wei Wuxian opens the pouch and digs out scrolls. Old scrolls. With— ”Lan library marks?” He asks, incredulous. He opens one and stares. ”Gods… How—Huaisang—” He swallows and hisses, ”These are from the restricted area of the Lan library, scrolls about demonic cultivation, how the fuck did you get your hands on them? When? I thought the whole Cloud Recesses burned down!” 

A sliver of Nie Huaisang’s scent curls around him, calming him down. ”I have my ways,” he says with a small smile. ”Read them. You’ll need the information.”

”You and your secrets,” Wei Wuxian grumbles but his fingers itch to open the scrolls and devour everything they hold inside.

Nie Huaisang lets out a noncommittal hum. ”After tonight, you’ll be on your own. This is the last place you can rest peacefully in quite some time so I suggest you take advantage of that.” He stands up and bows. ”Good luck, Wei-xiong. You’ll need it.”

”Thanks,” he says dryly and then yanks the other omega into a rough hug. ”You stay safe too, okay?”

Nie Huaisang hides his smile behind his fan and leaves.

Wei Wuxian stays up the whole night reading through the scrolls. They’re not extensive which isn’t a surprise—demonic cultivation has been considered heretical for ages after all—but they give him a general sense of what it’s about. Instead of using the spiritual energy he cultivates in and draws from his golden core, he will draw resentful energy from everything around him. Unsurprisingly, the easiest sources are the very things cultivators usually kill or subdue on their night-hunts. The stronger and more skilled the wielder, the more resentful energy they can handle. Coincidentally, the more resentful energy the wielder draws, the more harm it will do to their core and body, and the damage is irreversible.

Except…

There’s one scroll, so old it probably would’ve crumbled away if it hadn’t been preserved by several talismans. The author states that there is a way to disperse the aftereffects of resentful energy. It states music (well, duh, they were a Lan), dual cultivation, and several meditative techniques as viable options and Wei Wuxian makes a mental note to try them later. Dual cultivation is, of course, not possible and meditation has always been an effective method for him to fall asleep but hey, at least he should try. Music on the other hand is something that comes easily to him, so perhaps that’s what he’ll try first. 

That still leaves him with the problem of conduit. 

Wen Ruohan is trying to make a tool to harness and direct resentful energy, to make himself more powerful. Should Wei Wuxian also start figuring something out? 

The thought stays with him when he starts his journey to Nightless City early in the morning. Conduit…conduit…it probably should be something he could easily use, something he could hide in plain sight, and preferably something he could use both to draw and settle resentful energy. 

And then, of course, there’s the whole motive thing. Why is Wei Wuxian making his way to Nightless City? Why is he trying to get to Wen Ruohan’s good graces? What drives him? His cultivation is strong so it can’t really be just for more power (or, well, it could but it might not be believable and would pose a massive risk) so…what then? Recognition? 

Hmm…

The more he thinks of it, the better it sounds. As Nie Huaisang said, he should use the fact that he’d been kicked out from both Gusu Lan and Yunmeng Jiang. He’s the son of a servant and while he’d been adopted as a ward, he’d never be good enough to be in a position of real power (not that he’d even want to but, whatever, it’s the story that counts). 

Perhaps he’d like to pay back the humiliation he’s been served? 

(The sad truth is, he doesn’t even have to dig very deep to taste the bitterness still lingering in the back of his throat. So, yes. He can work with this.)

He resolutely pushes away the pang of guilt and longing and the sliver of shame he knows he’ll drown in later when everyone learns what he’s done. 

Wei Wuxian, thrown out from Gusu Lan and defected from Yunmeng Jiang. Wei Wuxian, former Head Disciple of Lotus Pier, present apprentice of Wen Ruohan and the ghostly path.

”Well, it’s not like I had a bright future ahead of me anyway,” he mutters. ”What better way to make use of my life and skills than overthrowing an evil maniac?”

On his way to Nightless City, he makes sure to pay attention to the common people. They don’t usually get involved with cultivator business, instead, they step out of the way when the clans clash and try to just go on with their lives the best they can. Wei Wuxian has always enjoyed mingling with the Yunmeng city’s common people but he knows the Jiang Sect is exceptional. They’ve always enjoyed close relations with the common people who live in their territory. The other sects…not so much. Gusu Lan tend to keep to themselves but they protect Caiyi town because they feel it’s their duty. Leaving the common people to fend for themselves would be dishonorable and hence, unacceptable. Qinghe Nie usually keep to themselves purely because their cultivation style tends to make them irritable and short of temper, and most people don’t enjoy spending time with walking anger management issues. Lanling Jin seems to think the common people are necessary dirt under their boots and their value is mostly in the taxes they pay. And the Wen… well. 

Who the fuck knows what’s going on with the Wen. They’ve been assimilating smaller sects into themselves for quite a while now, expanding and swallowing land and territory like a hungry ghost that never gets satisfied. And now as Qishan Wen is waging war on several fronts, it seems like Qinghe is the only sect truly making any effort to stop them. Sure, Could Recesses is in ashes and Lotus Pier incapacitated at the moment, but still… 

In times of great need, it’s the moral duty of cultivators to step up and protect the common people.

There is no word about the Jin.

He wonders who Nie Huaisang has listening in at the Koi Tower.

”Stop right there!”

Wei Wuxian freezes mid-step and cocks his head. ”Yes?” 

One of the guards stationed on the ridiculously massive stairs to Nightless City (honestly, was someone compensating something?) hurries down, sword drawn. ”Who are you and what are you doing here?” He demands, scowling at Wei Wuxian.

”Wei Wuxian,” he answers and bows as well as he can with his other foot still in the air. ”I’m here to see Wen Ruohan.”

”You!” The guard sputters, looks around, and then back to Wei Wuxian. ”Put your foot down,” he snaps. ”Follow me.”

They make their way up the stairs and into the platform where the guard bows deep to an older cultivator. All alphas, how predictable and boring, Wei Wuxian muses.

”What is the meaning of this?” The older guard barks.

”My apologies, Captain Peng,” the guard says, bowing again. ”He just appeared and said he’s here to see Sect Leader Wen.”

Wei Wuxian waves.

”And why do you think you’d be allowed anywhere near Sect Leader Wen?” The captain sneers.

”I have information he might be interested in,” Wei Wuxian says. 

The captain scoffs. ”Really? And what would that be?”

Wei Wuxian leans slightly forward. ”Something for his ears only,” he says with a smirk. ”And since I highly doubt that a common alpha captain staring into the distance on these stairs has the mandate to act as Sect Leader Wen’s ears, I suggest you escort me to someone who has that mandate.” He laces his words with the barest whiff of his scent, curling it around the captain’s neck.

The captain glares at him for a moment and then says, ”Fine. I’ll take you to see the doctor.”

Doctor? Wei Wuxian wonders. 

They climb up even more stairs until they emerge to a massive plaza. On the other side of it is an imposing palace with a roof with twelve ridges adorned with heavenly beasts.

”Magnificent, isn’t it?” The captain says with obvious pride. ”The Palace of the Sun and Flames, the tallest building in all Nightless City.”

Wei Wuxian lets out an agreeing sound and wonders if everything in this place is a bit overcompensating.

They walk across the plaza, past the massive main doors of the palace to a smaller side door, and into a long corridor that winds left and right, up some stairs and down some more. There are no windows and it takes an embarrassingly short time for Wei Wuxian to lose his sense of direction.

Finally, they emerge in a wider hallway and walk to a sturdy door where the captain stops and knocks a short code on the door.

”Enter,” a woman says. 

The captain opens the door and impatiently motions Wei Wuxian to get inside.

The room is quite big but it’s crammed full. Bookcases threatening to overspill line the walls, there are more books and scrolls on the side table, and thick stacks of paper on the table in front of the window. Behind the table sits a small woman in red Wen robes and a golden hairpiece pinned into her hair. Her sharp eyes seem to peel all Wei Wuxian’s carefully constructed layers off.

”Please forgive this one for interrupting your work, Mistress Wen,” the captain says, bowing low. ”This Young Master appeared on the main stairs and…” the captain’s voice trails away and they glance at Wei Wuxian from the corner of their eye.

Wei Wuxian scrambles to bow. ”Wei Wuxian, at your service,” he says. ”I believe I have something to offer to Sect Leader Wen.”

Mistress Wen sets her brush carefully down and lowers her hands on her lap. ”Really,” she says.

”Uh-huh,” Wei Wuxian says and nods a couple of times. When Mistress Wen raises her brow, he hurries to add, ”But it’s for Sect Leader Wen’s ears only.”

Something like amusement flashes in Mistress Wen’s eyes. ”I am Sect Leader Wen’s ears,” she says and then continues, ”Leave us.” She doesn’t bother looking at the captain as they bow out of the door, keeping her eyes on Wei Wuxian instead. 

As soon as the captain closes the door behind them, she rises to her feet in one, fluid move and walks to Wei Wuxian, cocking her head like he’s a particularly curious insect she’s about to pick apart. The mental image isn’t exactly appealing.

”And what, exactly, do you have to offer Sect Leader Wen?” She asks. She’s tiny next to him but she’s an alpha and her cultivation is high and, more importantly, Wei Wuxian is pretty sure she can see right through him.

”I think I have information that might help with the more unpleasant side-effects of his endeavor,” he says watching her carefully.

She hums and taps a finger against her cheek. Then she moves in a blur, slams a talisman on the door, and has a knife pressed against Wei Wuxian’s throat before he even blinks. ”Now,” she says with a small smile. ”Why don’t you tell me why the Head Disciple of Yunmeng Jiang is in Nightless City, seeking audience with Sect Leader Wen after, somehow, the Core-Melting Hand failed to take Lotus Pier?” She presses the knife harder and her voice takes an edge as she laces it with a sliver of alpha. ”Tell me.”

The skill to resist alpha influence was one of the first things Madam Yu taught Wei Wuxian but he decides to play along. He allows a small shudder travel down his spine and wilts a bit. ”I’m neither Head Disciple nor Yunmeng Jiang,” he says.

”That seems hard to believe,” she says flatly.

”Yeah, well,” he says and lets bitterness show on his face. ”I had the audacity to live while Sect Leader Jiang and Madam Yu gave their lives to keep Lotus Pier safe. As it turns out, the new Sect Leader would’ve preferred his parents lived instead of me.”

”And you just, what? Decided to traipse straight to the Wen territory?” 

Wei Wuxian leans forward just a bit and lets the knife cut his skin to draw blood. ”The Lan kicked me out. Lotus Pier wants nothing to do with me. Sect Leader Nie’s temperament rivals Madam Yu’s and I’m not getting anywhere near Jin Guangshan. So, I’m here.”

”Yes, you are,” she says slowly and takes a step back and with a flick of her fingers, the knife disappears. ”And I don’t know whether that makes you incredibly brave or incredibly stupid.”

Thing is, neither does Wei Wuxian.

Obviously, he doesn’t get an audience with Wen Ruohan. He’s a strange omega who just popped up at the gates of Nightless City, claiming to have something to offer to the most powerful sect of the cultivator world, and Sect Leader Wen doesn’t need to be a paranoid megalomaniac to realize something’s not right about that. Instead, he gets appointed to a room and then left alone. Or seemingly alone because Wei Wuxian knows for certain he’s being watched. Of course he is. He doesn’t let it stop him from wandering around, though.

It takes him two days to realize he should stay away from wine houses, and it takes him three days to learn to steer the fuck away from Wen Chao at all times. If the alpha was terrible when Wei Wuxian spied on him during the indoctrination camp, he’s even worse now. After losing his omega mistress and Wen Zhuliu in Lotus Pier, he’s been declining. He’s fast to anger and even faster to lash out and, as he is the second alpha son of Wen Ruohan, there’s no one who can make him behave, other than his brother or his father. Wei Wuxian pays close attention to the gossip and learns that Wen Chao’s erratic behavior has annoyed his father, especially since he hasn’t contributed anything to the campaign. Wen Xu conquered the Cloud Recesses and attacked Qinghe but so far, Wen Chao’s greatest contribution has been to fail killing the sect heirs after sealing them in a cave with an ancient monster. No wonder he spends his time in a drunken stupor.

Through gossip and some carefully directed brushes of his scent, he learns that Mistress Wen is, indeed, the same Wen Qing Jiang Yanli talked about (in the letters Madam Yu finally delivered him after the whole drugged heat incident). She’s the leader of a branch family whose expertise has been in the medical field for generations. She lives in Nightless City with her brother, seemingly as a high-ranking member of Wen Ruohan’s court but in actuality, she’s a prisoner. Wen Ruohan uses her family as leverage to keep her as his personal doctor: as long as she stays with him, her family stays alive. If she leaves, her family dies.

Perhaps that’s the reason she keeps herself distant from everyone. She’s trying to keep her family safe and that doesn’t give her much leeway. It’s easier to make it seem like she doesn’t care than risk giving out her feelings. 

Wei Wuxian knows how that feels.

He spends his days meditating, stacking up talismans, and exploring Nightless City. It’s a massive residence every bit deserving its name, sprawling over the mountainside and stretching almost further than the eye can see. In its own way, it’s beautiful but it’s harsh and unyielding beauty, almost cruel in its bleakness. As he thinks back on Lotus Pier (or even the Cloud Recesses), he misses the gentler way the buildings curved along the natural formations, growing from the riverbanks or rocks like they were meant to be there. In Nightless City, nature yields to the buildings and bows before them. 

He misses the lakes. He misses clear air. He misses home. And he misses the freedom to do whatever he wants without continuously being aware of the eyes on him.

He lets himself miss for a moment and then pushes the longing back into the back of his mind where it belongs. 

He’s on a mission, he has no time for memories.

During one of his morning walks, Wei Wuxian comes across a small clearing where a young man practices archery. He’s quite good which is why Wei Wuxian doesn’t understand why he looks so forlorn. After observing a series of more complicated shots, Wei Wuxian steps forward and says, ”What a skilled shot, Young Master! You are quite good with your bow!”

The young man—a beta it turns out—startles so bad that he drops the bow and then immediately apologizes. 

”Why are you sorry?” Wei Wuxian asks, genuinely confused. ”I was the one who interrupted your practice, I’m the one who should apologize.”

The young man stands awkwardly, looking everywhere but at Wei Wuxian, and doesn’t say a word.

”What’s your name?” Wei Wuxian asks and cocks his head.

”W-Wen Qionglin,” he says and bows deep.

”Well, it’s nice to meet you, Wen-gognzi,” Wei Wuxian says with a cheery grin. ”I’m Wei Wuxian. How about you try hitting that next target, hm?”

Wen Qionglin flushes deep scarlet and tries weakly to protest but Wei Wuxian smiles at him, steps close, and with a couple of encouraging words, coaxes him to take the shot. And then another. And another.

After, he feels better than he’s felt in a long time. He’s missed teaching and while helping Wen Qionglin to perfect his pose isn’t exactly the same as teaching a whole class of disciples, it helps with the homesickness. 

The next morning, Wei Wuxian takes the same route and sees Wen Qionglin again. He walks over and helps with his practice, and slowly, it becomes a thing.

After a couple of days, Wen Qionglin shyly asks Wei Wuxian to call him Wen Ning and when Wei Wuxian complies, he blushes and directs a small, pleased smile at the vicinity of his boots. He’s so adorable that Wei Wuxian has to hold back an urge to hug him.

He wonders what his spies have to say about his teaching technique.

”Why are you here, Wei-gongzi?” Wen Ning asks one day. 

Wei Wuxian quirks a brow and grins. ”I’m here to help you beat everyone else in the upcoming archery competition, of course.”

Wen Ning ducks his head. ”We both know that’s not true, Wei-gongzi,” he chides gently.

Wei Wuxian sighs. Wen Ning is such a sweet young man and his nervous demeanor makes him seem a lot younger even though they are of the same age. His cultivation is below average but he’s sharp and makes keen observations Wei Wuxian is always interested to hear. 

”The Nightless City is a dangerous place,” Wen Ning says quietly.

Wei Wuxian lets out a hum. ”I’m pretty dangerous too,” he says as he moves Wen Ning’s arms sightly.

”I know that,” Wen Ning says and draws. He concentrates for a moment and with a slow exhale, lets the arrow fly. It hits dead center, right next to the previous three arrows. ”And A-jie knows that.”

Ah.

They haven’t talked about it but Wei Wuxian realized on his second day helping out Wen Ning who his sister is. For a brief moment, he seriously considered using Wen Ning for his own purposes but he soon abandoned the idea. First, Wen Ning just doesn’t have the constitution for scheming and second, he’d rather spend time with him because he genuinely enjoys it, not because of some nefarious plan. 

Wen Ning turns and picks up another arrow. ”Why are you here, Wei-gongzi?” He asks again as he examines the fletching. 

Wei Wuxian says nothing as he steps behind Wen Ning and slightly adjusts his form. As he draws and is ready to release the arrow, Wei Wuxian bends forward and whispers, ”What if I said I’m here to kill Wen Ruohan.”

The arrow hits the mark, again.

”Then I’d say A-jie would like to talk to you,” Wen Ning says.

”I’m always eager to talk to Mistress Wen,” Wei Wuxian says easily.

Wen Ning gives him an exasperated look. ”Wei-gongzi,” he says. 

Somehow it reminds him of Jiang Yanli and for a moment, it’s hard to breathe. He swallows and covers his heartache with a wide smile. ”Of course I’d be happy to talk with your sister. You know that and she knows that. Any time she seems fit is fine by me.”

Wen Ning doesn’t roll his eyes but the sentiment is there. 

They practice a bit longer and then Wen Ning bides him goodbye and takes his leave, and Wei Wuxian continues with his morning stroll toward a grove a short distance away. It’s one of the few groves in the Nightless City and Wei Wuxian finds he likes it. It helps him to cope with the oppressive tension running through the Wen residence. 

Besides. He’s still missing his conduit and the bamboos look promising indeed.

He spends a couple of days carving several dizis before he figures out the size that fits his hands perfectly. Then he spends another couple of days immersing it in every protective spell he knows and uses a thin, long, and extremely sharp knife to carefully carve protective symbols inside it. When he deems it ready, he wipes the surface with one of Madam Yu’s potions and coats the inside with another. And when he’s finally done, he holds the gorgeous, deep black dizi in his hand and smiles.

”Well, look at you,” he murmurs and gently trails a finger along the silky surface that seems to almost hum under his touch. 

He sticks a silencing talisman on the door and twirls the dizi a bit, testing out the balance and feel before bringing it to his lips. It doesn’t smell like anything but as he inhales, it feels almost like something tickles his nose. He rolls his shoulders, takes a couple of deep breaths, and closes his eyes. The first tentative notes sound more like a breeze through a forest, questioning and wary, and he smiles.

It becomes a new routine: when he wakes up, he meditates for half an hour before breakfast, then practices his dizi for an hour. Then he leaves for his walk, meets up with Wen Ning, and then makes his way to Nightless City’s library (where he’s been recently granted access). And while he likes roaming around, he spends most of his evenings poring through Nie Huaisang’s books, making notes, and studying talismans he could use as failsafes when something goes horribly wrong. Because something will go horribly wrong. He’s studying demonic cultivation, it’s practically guaranteed.

One morning, after finishing up with Wen Ning, he takes a different route back to his appointed rooms and ends up on a balcony overlooking a training ground. He stops and cocks his head, giving a critical eye on a group of young alphas practicing their sword forms. He’s not impressed.

He isn’t surprised when Wen Qing steps to the balcony.

”I should report you,” she says mildly, walking to his side. 

”Why don’t you?” Wei Wuxian asks without turning his head.

She hums and doesn’t say a thing for a moment. ”Some people say I’m courting you,” she says.

”What?” That doesn’t even make sense—Wei Wuxian has been spending time with Wen Ning, not Wen Qing. 

Her lips draw to a dry smile. ”My reaction was quite similar. It would make your life easier, though.”

Wei Wuxian shakes his head with a soft chuckle. ”No, it wouldn’t.”

”No. I supposed it wouldn’t,” Wen Qing agrees. 

”Should I be flattered?”

She arches a brow. ”Do you want to be flattered?”

He makes a face. ”Not particularly, no. I mean—no disrespect but…you’re not exactly my type?” It comes out as a question and he cringes internally. Smooth, Wei Wuxian. Smooth.

Wen Qing snorts. ”Oh, don’t I know that. Your type is more of the… tall, strong, and brooding?”

”What?” He squeals and to his mortification, feels a deep blush on his cheeks.

Wen Qing laughs and when Wei Wuxian turns to face her, incredulous, she laughs even harder. ”Oh, Wei Wuxian…” she sighs and pats his arm like he’s a barely presented teen. ”Thank you. I needed that.”

He isn’t sure what the joke is but since it made her laugh… ”You’re welcome,” he says.

From the corner of his eye, he sees her discreetly activate a privacy talisman. She’s silent a moment longer and then says, ”The only reason I’m still free is that I’m an alpha. Or, well, depends on how one defines freedom,” she adds with a bitter twist of her lips. ”And the only reason A-Ning is still free is that he’s a beta.” She falls silent for some time, holding herself straight and her hands tucked to her sleeves. ”You, on the other hand…”

”I appreciate your concern but I can take care of myself,” Wei Wuxian says.

”I’m aware,” she says. ”Don’t overdo it.” She frowns slightly and seems to contemplate something for a while before she says, quiet, ”I can introduce you. If you’re sure.”

Wei Wuxian lets out a breath. ”I’m sure.”

”My brother doesn’t usually like to be around people,” she says out of the blue. ”I’d like to see his friend stay safe.”

”I’ll keep that in mind,” Wei Wuxian says.

He doesn’t turn to look when Wen Qing walks back inside. Instead, he watches the alphas go through yet another lackluster drill and doesn’t let himself think about what’s to come.

He’s been in Nightless City for two and half months when he meets Sect Leader Wen for the first time. It is, for lack of a better word, anticlimactic. Wei Wuxian isn’t sure what he’d been expecting but it was something, well, more. First of all, they meet in Wen Ruohan’s study which is just a room, and second…well, he isn’t the monster everyone’s been painting him as. Yes, Wen Ruohan is a big alpha with an aura of power around him, yes, his eyes light up with decidedly unpleasant light when Wei Wuxian lets out a carefully controlled slip of his scent to point out the fact that he’s an omega, and, yes, Wei Wuxian shivers when Wen Ruohan prowls close to him. It’s out of disgust, not fear, but Wen Ruohan doesn’t need to know that.

”And who are you?” Wen Ruohan asks.

Wei Wuxian bows. ”This one’s name is Wei Wuxian, Sect Leader Wen,” he says, keeping his eyes lowered. ”This one would like the chance of learning from Sect Leader Wen, if Sect Leader Wen would allow.”

”I know your name and your past allegiances,” Wen Ruohan says. ”I’m more interested in who you are and who you might be if given the chance.” His voice is detached, laced with indifference with an undercurrent of cruelty.

Wei Wuxian takes a careful breath and centers himself, then slowly raises his head and looks the alpha straight in the eye. ”I was thrown out because they didn’t deem me good enough,” he says in a low voice and pours out all the bitterness he’s been storing up since Lan Qiren first time berated him in public, adding the barest hint of his angry scent to appeal the alpha a bit more. ”I want to show everyone just how wrong they’ve been.”

”Hm,” Wen Ruohan says. ”And why should I bother myself with the grievances of a slighted omega?”

Wei Wuxian lets a cold smile draw on his lips. ”Because before they threw me out, I managed to sneak into the Lan library’s restricted area.” He holds out two of the lesser scrolls Nie Huaisang gave him. It pains him to give out the original works even though he’s made a couple of meticulous copies for safekeeping, but he’s pretty sure Wen Ruohan wouldn’t accept his copies as readily as he does these originals bearing the Lan library’s seal.

Wen Ruohan’s eyes go wide and he snatches the scrolls and opens them, eyeing the content with naked hunger. ”Have you tried these out?”

Wei Wuxian shakes his head. ”No, Sect Leader Wen. I haven’t dared to dabble with demonic cultivation on my own yet.” It’s not exactly true but Wen Ruohan doesn’t need to know that. Wei Wuxian has tried it a bit, just to see how his dizi reacts to resentful energy. So far, he’s been satisfied and has always taken great care to purify himself and his dizi thoroughly after the exercises.

”Come back tomorrow after sunrise,” Wen Ruohan says as he turns and starts rifling through the stacks of paper on his desk.

”Thank you, Sect Leader, Wen,” Wei Wuxian says and bows low at his turned back. He leaves the room and makes his way back to his room, looking properly flustered, and doesn’t let himself relax until he’s closed the door behind him and activated his privacy talismans.

Then he sits on the bed and rests his head in his hands for a moment and just breathes. 

Okay.

Okay, he can do this. He can totally do this.

He picks up his dizi and plays through the cadenzas that have become his go-to comfort pieces. 

He plays, and under his fingers, the dizi hums.

Wen Ruohan tests him first with Wen Qing present and then without her which makes them both wary. Wen Ruohan has a reputation (not as bad as Jin Guangshan because, apparently, Wen Ruohan only goes after omegas while Sect Leader Jin fucks everything that has a pulse) but it turns out that Sect Leader Wen wants to check just how far he can push Wei Wuxian before he breaks. Wei Wuxian almost fucks it up because he’s so used to holding alphas back but as soon as he realizes what’s going on, he fakes fainting and nosebleed. Heavens know what would’ve happened if Wen Ruohan had found out just how powerful Wei Wuxian is. So, he whimpers on the floor with blood pouring from the cut he made on the inside of his nose and scrambles back as Wen Ruohan bends down to help him up.

”I apologize,” Wen Ruohan’s mouth says and his eyes gleam with deep, greedy want. ”It wasn’t my attention to knock you out.”

Wei Wuxian shakes his head. ”No, this one apologizes for being weak. This one will do better in the future.”

Wen Ruohan  takes a hold of his chin, lifts his head up. ”I know you will,” he purrs and strokes his thumb along the curve of Wei Wuxian’s jaw. 

Wei Wuxian swallows and doesn’t hold back the tremor of disgust that runs through him. He sees Wen Ruohan’s pupils dilate and it makes him feel sick.

”I will take you as my apprentice,” Wen Ruohan says. He lets go of Wei Wuxian and wipes his fingers on his robe as he stands. It does nothing to alleviate the lingering slimy feeling on Wei Wuxian’s skin.

Wei Wuxian pushes himself on his knees and bows until his forehead touches the floor. ”Thank you, Sect Leader Wen! This one will work hard to be worthy!” 

And work even harder to not break your fingers the next time you try touching me like that, he thinks darkly.

Wen Ruohan puts him on a strict schedule: Wei Wuxian is to wake up at six, study the Wen doctrine for an hour, then drink a pot of special tea blend Wen Ruohan provides him (that Wen Qing checks for toxins, hallucinogens, aphrodisiacs, or anything else suspicious and then Wei Wuxian re-checks it himself) before joining the Sect Leader in his study for meditation. Wen Ruohan will lecture him on demonic cultivation until lunch and then Wei Wuxian is to practice and contemplate whatever he’s learned in the morning. Wen Ruohan will meet him again at six in the evening for a training session which can be anything from sword practice to another try at intimidating him to submission. Usually, it’s just Wen Ruohan working on his demonic tool and Wei Wuxian watching him, asking questions and making notes. 

It doesn’t take him long to realize Wen Ruohan doesn’t actually know what the fuck he’s doing. The alpha is very powerful and his cultivation is extremely high but it doesn’t mean he knows how to achieve constructing a tool—a tally, it seems—to gather, store, and concentrate resentful energy. Wei Wuxian has to close his eyes and breathe for a moment there because it’s either that or succumb to a sudden bout of hysterical laughter and he figures the latter isn’t a wise career move. So he collects himself and concentrates on not rolling his eyes when Wen Ruohan pours another ridiculous portion of power into the crude draft of the tally without bothering to just think about how to make things work.

Yeah. 

It’s glaringly obvious that Wen Ruohan didn’t reach the title of Chief Cultivator because he’s an excellent cultivator or the best Sect Leader for the job. No, he has the title because he’s a bully and the leader of an obscenely rich and aggressive sect. He has systematically eliminated everyone who might pose a threat to him (see: burning Lotus Pier and the Cloud Recesses, and Wei Wuxian has some thoughts about how former Sect Leader Nie’s sabre actually broke), and the ones he hasn’t killed, he’s trying to intimidate into submission. Wei Wuxian is pretty sure Jin Guangshan is involved somehow but he isn’t sure whether he’s an accomplice or a puppet. He’s leaning on the accomplice, simply because he just can’t see someone like Jin Guangshan as anyone’s puppet.

Then again, he doesn’t need to worry about Sect Leader Jin because, well, Nie Huaisang.

Wei Wuxian already knows that simply sabotaging the tally won’t be enough: Wen Ruohan is obsessed with demonic cultivation and is hell-bent on finishing his tool. If Wei Wuxian fucks up this tool, Wen Ruohan will start over. And just killing him wouldn’t probably work either because there’s still the whole, massive sect to consider, not to mention Wen Ruohan’s two alpha sons. And while poisoning the whole Nightless City does have a certain flair to it, it just wouldn’t be feasible. 

No, what Wei Wuxian has to do is to help Wen Ruohan finish the tool, then destroy it and Wen Ruohan’s line for good.

And he has to do that while learning and mastering demonic cultivation.

Joy.

Oh, well. He’s still technically part of Yunmeng Jiang so, how about channeling the sect motto. Attempt the impossible, right?

The sucky thing is that, if he ignores Wen Ruohan’s general creepiness, sadistic tendencies, and condescending attitude, learning demonic cultivation is extremely interesting. Wei Wuxian’s biggest problem has always been that his mind works on dozens of problems at once, jumping from one line of thinking to the other, never able to concentrate on one thing unless it’s something he wholeheartedly enjoys or it’s genuinely challenging (which was the main reason for all his problems in the Cloud Recesses). The theory of demonic cultivation happens to be enjoyable and challenging and it takes Wei Wuxian conscious effort to remind him that he shouldn’t lose himself to it.

Then there’s the whole thing with resentful energy. It’s tricky to work around because it’s a natural opposite to cultivators’ spiritual energy and, therefore, corrosive by nature. If Wei Wuxian doesn’t pay close attention, he could end up doing serious damage to his core. He needs to learn to coax it to work with him instead of fighting with him, a dance that’s both fascinating and incredibly taxing. He realizes in under a week that while he can draw and manipulate resentful energy just by using his own spiritual energy, it’s significantly easier to do it through his dizi. Doing so also somewhat mollifies and soothes the resentment, thanks to the copious spells and symbols he drenched the flute with. But even with all the help, the resentment fights his golden core and curls around it in a circle, almost like a lazy cat waiting for the mouse to grow tired and forget the predator waiting right next to it—if said cat was demonic in nature and made him shiver with the sheer feeling of wrong.

But Wei Wuxian learns to dance. He meditates diligently and purges his meridians daily, renews the spells on the dizi every week, and makes sure to also play just for the joy of playing, not only to force resentful energy to do his bidding. 

As a result, it probably shouldn’t have come as a surprise to realize that when he picks up his flute one morning, it hums with spiritual power.

”Well, hello,” Wei Wuxian says and laughs softly. He foregoes his daily Wen doctrine dose (he’s already memorized it all anyway) and starts to play instead. He starts out tentative, questioning, and reaches out for the flute with his core, delighted when he gets a response back. The dizi’s presence feels warm and steady and somehow it reminds him of a deep lake with a smooth surface but with vast, unfathomable depths underneath. It’s an appealing image, and he smiles as he sinks deeper into the music and lets himself float.

He surfaces almost an hour later (just in time to drink his damned tea) with a bone-deep satisfaction and his dizi's steady presence humming in the back of his mind.

Slowly, a name reveals itself to him from the midst of the hum.

Chenqing.  

”Thank you,” he murmurs. ”I hope I’ll do you justice. And if I don’t, I trust you’ll remind me.”

The sensation he gets back reminds him that of proud contentment.

Working with Chenqing is exhilarating. It responds to him as easily as Suibian does but they resonate on a different level: where his sword lays dormant waiting for his orders to do his bidding, Chenqing is always present and needs only the barest nudge from Wei Wuxian to respond. Sometimes it seems to anticipate his needs and guides him in the right direction, and on one or two occasions Wei Wuxian is sure it’s playing on its own. It coaxes, pushes, and pulls the resentful energy he needs to work with, molds it from rage and bitterness into usable shapes. 

It feels almost like caring. 

When Wei Wuxian tries to ask, the dizi’s presence feels like it’s sparkling and he gets the weirdest sense of gentle amusement from it. It leaves him profoundly confused.

He pushes aside the slightly disturbing thought of his flute gaining sentience and concentrates on his main challenge: the demonic tally.

The metal Wen Ruohan uses to construct the tally is of mysterious origin, and no matter how Wei Wuxian has tried to pry, he hasn’t gotten a definite answer. He briefly considered forcing the alpha with his scent but abandoned the idea. As Wen Ruohan has been obsessing about the tally and diving deeper and deeper into demonic cultivation, his mind has started to fray. He’s already descending rapidly into full-blown paranoia, and adding Wei Wuxian’s influence could tip him over. So, he keeps to his previous course of action: he observes and makes notes and suggestions. So far, Wen Ruohan’s biggest obstacle has been that he has two pieces infused with resentful energy but they refuse to attach. His reactions to the failed attempts have been explosive, resulting in the remains of the unfortunate guards and servants near him being scraped from the floors and the walls with something that looks like a kitchen implement that Wei Wuxian would rather never see again in his life. Especially in the kitchen. 

Wei Wuxian is pretty sure he knows where the problem lies: the nature of the metal makes the two halves repel each other and simply forcing them to meld will never work. Instead, they need to be woven together like pieces of cloth. Wen Ruohan doesn’t understand that and suggesting a different route of action will most likely end up in gruesome death for the brave (read: foolish) individual. But what if Wei Wuxian could add a sliver of his resentful energy into Wen Ruohan’s? What if he and Chenqing could manipulate that weave to slowly knit the halves together? That would finish the tool, yes, but it would also leave a backdoor for them to unravel the tally.

But how to persuade Wen Ruohan to let him help? 

He’s rolling the question in his mind a couple of days later while he sits on his bed and plays Chenqing when the dizi lets out a strange trill. 

He frowns, slightly thrown by the odd note, and shrugs and continues. 

The trill happens again.

Wei Wuxian opens his eyes and slowly lowers Chenqing from his lips. It hums and then lets out a deliberate trill that sounds like it’s trying to point out something obvious. 

Wei Wuxian wets his lips and reaches out to it with his core. 

Yes?

—exasperation—fondness—pride—

Wei Wuxian lets out a slightly hysterical chuckle. So, it is you, after all. 

He gets a reaction that somehow reminds him of how Wen Qing sighs and shakes her head at him. It makes him feel warm.

So… am I correct to assume that you have an idea of how we should do this?

—determination—resolve—cunning—

Tell me.

He spends the following several hours deep in meditation with Chenqing in his hand, parsing through the images and feelings it shows him and going through a plan step by step. It’s the weirdest communion he’s ever experienced but he feels safe and grounded the whole time, almost like there was a warm presence beside him, holding his hand.

When he emerges, his head is spinning and he feels like he’d been through vigorous training with Jinzhu and Yinzhu. He rubs a hand over his face, not even a bit surprised when he realizes his brow is sweaty and his hands shake.

I think I’m going to take a nap, he says and slowly keels over, cradling Chenqing against his chest. 

He falls asleep with a soft lullaby in his ears and the strangest feeling of someone stroking his hair.

”Sect Leader Wen, may I ask a question?” 

Wei Wuxian kneels respectfully as Wen Ruohan goes through another round of pouring more and more energy into the two pieces of the tally. His face is strained and his lips curled into a snarl as resentful energy swirls around him, agitated and volatile. During previous sessions, adding a bit more energy than Wen Ruohan is now handling resulted in a backslash and Wei Wuxian would rather not go through that again. The pain hadn’t been that much but the amount of resentful energy he’d had to get rid of later had been challenging.

”Yes,” comes the snapped answer.

”This one doesn’t mean to impose,” Wei Wuxian starts, ”but…music might ease Sect Leader’s mind and help with his work?”

Wen Ruohan pauses and turns slowly, aiming his narrowed, wild stare at Wei Wuxian. His eyes are dark and crazed and for a brief moment, Wei Wuxian is genuinely afraid, tamping down his instinct to flee. ”What do you mean by that?” Wen Ruohan asks in a low growl.

Wei Wuxian bows low and rests his forehead on the floor. ”This one learned in Gusu that certain melodies can ease a troubled mind. This one doesn’t mean to imply Sect Leader’s mind is troubled but… Forging the tool is a mighty task and Sect Leader has worked diligently and tirelessly. This one would only offer to ease the burden.” He releases a harmless, innocent scent that only wishes to please but doesn’t try to push Wen Ruohan into anything.

After a long time, Wen Ruohan huffs and says, ”Fine! You may try.”

”Thank you, Sect Leader,” Wei Wuxian says, relieved. ”This one will try at once if Sect Leader allows.”

”Go ahead,” Wen Ruohan says and his robes rustle as he turns back to face the tally. 

Wei Wuxian lets out a slow breath and pushes himself up. He stays on his knees as he raises Chenqing and starts to play. He begins with what little he learned in Gusu and then deviates to a melody he came up with Chenqing a couple of days ago. He lets both his spiritual power and his pheromones reach out to Wen Ruohan while Chenqing reaches out with thin strands of resentful energy. They’re not trying to do anything yet, they’re just testing out a theory, and when Wei Wuxian peeks through the slits of his eyes, it seems to be working. Wen Ruohan’s eyes don’t seem as murderous as they did moments earlier and the tense line of his shoulders seems slightly less rigid.

He plays for half an hour and then lets the music—and his scent—slowly drift away.

Wen Ruohan doesn’t look at him when he finishes for the day but when he leaves, he says, ”You may continue playing tomorrow.”

Wei Wuxian bows deep and smiles against the floor.

Gotcha!

He and Chenqing continue with their slow, subtle working for several days more before they attempt merging the two tally pieces together. It’s perhaps the most complicated thing Wei Wuxian has so far attempted: he’s drawing both spiritual energy from his core and the ever-present resentful energy to power the spell through the music and feeding power to Chenqing, all the while influencing Wen Ruohan with his scent. In truth, Wei Wuxian doesn’t try to direct Chenqing too much—she’s the conduit with a mind of her own and because they share a common goal, he leaves the details to her. He keeps his eyes on Wen Ruohan but from the corner of his eye, he sees the way the tendrils of resentful energy Chenqing controls dart around the tally halves, almost like measuring them and mapping them out. They intertwine with Wen Ruohan’s resentment and the contact makes Wei Wuxian shudder. After some time, Chenqing retreats, and Wei Wuxian very carefully disperses the leftover resentful energy before directing his full concentration on the alpha.

”I felt it!” Wen Ruohan roars and staggers back.

For a second, everything goes cold and the music stutters.

Wen Ruohan swirls around with maniacal glee on his face. ”It almost happened! I’m nearly there! Finally!”

Wei Wuxian swallows and lowers Chenqing. ”That’s…amazing, Sect Leader!”

”Yes, yes, I know! Keep on playing, it helps me concentrate,” Wen Ruohan says and turns back to the tally hovering in the air. 

Shit. ”Ah, Sect Leader…this one humbly apologizes,” Wei Wuxian says and projects misery and exhaustion. ”This one is afraid the strain will be too much. This one doesn’t want to endanger Sect Leader’s success by sloppy playing.”

”Hm,” Wen Ruohan says and gives him a narrow-eyed look. ”You do seem tired. Fine. Tomorrow, you’ll rest: meditate, read the doctrine, and gather your strength. The day after, we will finish my work. And Wei Wuxian?”

”Yes, Sect Leader?”

”Then you will play, do you understand? I know you’re only an omega and, therefore, more delicate but we will finish my work, my Tiger Tally, no matter what.”

Wei Wuxian bows. ”Yes, Sect Leader Wen, of course. Sect Leader is very understanding and generous.” You condescending creep.

The next day, he takes a long walk, admiring the view and ignoring the whispers about Wen Ruohan’s omega pet that follow him everywhere nowadays. He visits Wen Qing for their weekly tea, spends an hour in a secluded inner yard going through sword forms and losing himself in the familiar physicality of the exercise. He meditates, purifies his meridians, and then starts to play. He communes with Chenqing, goes over their plan, and familiarises himself even more with what she is.

Yes, she. 

It hadn’t taken many sessions for him to realize that the fond exasperation he feels from her reminds him of shijie and the few glimpses he has of his mother. Chenqing feels sisterly or even maternal and the realization makes him stop and catch his breath for a moment.

He misses his shijie so much it hurts.

—compassion—comfort—peace—

He shakes his head and strokes a finger along Chenqing’s smooth surface. ”Yeah,” he murmurs. ”I’m glad you’re here.”

He doesn’t dream that night but his sleep isn’t peaceful either. When he finally gives up and rises after five, he has a fleeting thought of how Lan Zhan would be proud of his regular routine. He has resolutely not been thinking about Lan Zhan at all during his stay in Nightless City, mostly because he doesn’t want to look into the messy bundle of feelings Lan Zhan evokes in him. There’s attraction, yes (a person would have to be blind, deaf, and unconscious not to be attracted to the Second Jade of Lan), but also the soul-deep shame and regret he’s been carrying within him for years. He knows that perhaps not all of it is warranted but there’s way too much to unpack and he has bigger, more important things to think about. 

He refuses to think of Lan Zhan moving on after mourning him for whatever would be considered a proper mourning time for an omega who has been repeatedly harassing him. 

He refuses to wonder why the thought makes him want to cry.

Chenqing reaches out for him and offers her support even though she doesn’t quite understand the concept of what and who Lan Zhan is to Wei Wuxian. If we make it out of this alive, I’ll tell you, Wei Wuxian says and she settles down if slightly skeptical.

Wei Wuxian feels a bit offended by that.

Wen Ruohan is already waiting when he makes his way to the Palace of the Sun and Flames. He looks up and nods, completely unsurprised to see Wei Wuxian there over an hour before his usual time—almost like he expects Wei Wuxian to be just as eager to see the tally finished as he is. 

Wei Wuxian empties his mind, kneels down, and sets Chenqing on his lap, ready to begin.

It’s, if possible, even easier than before. Wen Ruohan’s excitement makes him less observant of his surroundings and he doesn’t even register when Wei Wuxian starts to apply more power into his playing. He keeps the song steady and feeds more resentful energy to Chenqing as she slowly starts knitting the pieces together. It’s an intricate web of power, tricky because Wei Wuxian can’t just strong-arm his way through it, he needs to help Chenqing to slowly cajole and nudge Wen Ruohan’s resentment where they need it.

When the halves of the Tiger Tally finally seal together, Wei Wuxian feels it in his bones and it takes all his concentration to not recoil. Whatever the metal is, it has absorbed everything Wen Ruohan has poured into it and it amplifies it to a massive scale. Chenqing retreats carefully to avoid backslash, and they keep playing as Wei Wuxian slowly withdraws his spiritual energy and scent as well.

And then it’s done.

Wen Ruohan is bathed in dark light and his eyes shine with red fire as he laughs and laughs, power-drunk and victorious, and the Tiger Tally hovers above his hand, pulsing with resentment. 

Wei Wuxian feels how it senses its kindred inside him and it attacks him, tries to push inside him to wrench control from his golden core and devour him inside out. ”Sect Leader!” He gasps, gritting his teeth with the effort of keeping the resentful energy out. ”Sect Leader, please!”

Wen Ruohan turns, slowly, eyes wide, black, and dazed, and for a brief moment, Wei Wuxian seriously doubts he’d make it out of the room alive if the alpha tried to kill him now. But then Wen Ruohan’s eyes clear up and he shakes his head.

”Oh,” Wen Ruohan murmurs and the pressure in the room lessens. ”Yes, you have done well, Wei Wuxian.” He bends over and cups Wei Wuxian’s cheek in a disturbingly tender way. ”Leave now and rest. I shall continue experimenting.”

”Thank you, Sect Leader,” Wei Wuxian manages and pushes himself to stand up, slightly bewildered when he sways and nearly topples over. 

”You!” Wen Ruohan snaps and looks at the nearest guard, a young alpha. ”Escort Wei Wuxian back to his room. Make sure he is safe and comfortable before you leave. He is precious and will not face any harm.”

”Y-yes, Sect Leader Wen!” The guard stammers. The terror wafting from him is so strong that Wei Wuxian coughs which makes the guard jump. ”I—this way, Young Master Wei,” he says, pointing to his room.

”He knows where his room is, you idiot!” Wen Ruohan growls. ”Your job is to make sure he doesn’t keel over and die!”

”Yes, Sect Leader Wen!” 

The guard swallows and hesitantly steps closer, takes a trembling hold on Wei Wuxian, and starts to lead him away from the room. His support is probably for the best as Wei Wuxian stumbles in his own feet and would’ve fallen to his face without it. 

The alpha slowly walks him to the door of his room and then stops. ”Will you be alright, Young Master Wei?” He asks, anxious. ”Sect Leader Wen has made it explicitly clear that only he and Mistress Wen are allowed to step into your quarters but…” He swallows and straightens his back. ”I will escort Young Master Wei in if help is needed.”

Wei Wuxian takes a deep breath that rattles something in his chest. ”No, I’ll be fine. You did well. You can return to Sect Leader Wen now.”

The guard blanches a bit. ”Are you sure? I mean—is there anything else Young Master Wei would require? Anything at all? This one would be honored to be of assistance,” he says, almost desperately, and bows deep.

Wei Wuxian frowns, and then he gets it. Wen Ruohan was going to conduct experiments, wasn’t he? His experiments and testing usually ended up in piles of bodies, and test subjects have been hard to find recently. The guard is young, scared half out of his mind, and would most likely want to still be alive by the end of the day.

”Actually, I am feeling slightly faint. Would it be too much of a trouble for you to get me something to eat? I was so nervous about today that I couldn’t sleep properly and couldn’t eat at all—it’s my nerves, you know how we omegas can be—” He gives the young guard a small smile and douses him with a bit of his oh-I’m-just-a-poor-defenseless-omega scent.

The guard folds like a wet paperman. ”Yes, Young Master Wei, of course, Young Master Wei, what should I bring you?”

He rattles out a long and winded comment on his favorite foods and lets out a bit more of his scent, sending the slightly dazed guard on his way. Alphas, so easy to manipulate.

Once inside, he lets out a long breath, rolls his shoulders and rubs a hand over his face, and frowns when his hand comes back bloody. 

Huh. 

Apparently, the whole process took a lot more out of him than he thought?

The sudden wave of nausea reminds him of the residual resentful energy still coursing through his body and he sits on his bed to deal with it. There’s more than has ever been before and it’s reluctant to let go, clinging to his golden core in an oily substance. Chenqing takes a more aggressive tone and she starts shredding through it, extracting it in small, sticky flakes that twitch and lurch as they try to make it back into him. It feels like the process takes ages but when it’s over and the resentful energy has been dealt with, he hears a knock on the door.

”Young Master Wei? I have brought food,” the young guard calls tentatively through the door. ”Young Master Wei?”

Wei Wuxian isn’t that keen on moving but he’s also pretty sure the guard won’t leave until he delivers the food Wei Wuxian requested. So, he pushes himself up and staggers to the door.

”What’s your name?” He asks as he opens the door.

The young guard stands up straighter. ”This one’s name is Wen Fan, Young Master Wei.”

”Okay,” Wei Wuxian sighs. ”I grant you, Wen Fan, one-time permission to enter my room.”

”What?” Wen Fan squeaks, eyes wide.

”Guard Wen, if I take that tray, I’ll drop it and fall over,” Wei Wuxian says, slightly amused through his lingering nausea and building exhaustion. ”So if you could just set it on the table there, I’d be very grateful.”

”Yes, Young Master Wei! Of course, Young Master Wei!” Wen Fan says. He walks carefully in and sets the tray on the table and then turns and hurries back out, keeping his eyes on the floor to avoid looking at anything in an omega’s private space. It’s sort of adorable, really. ”Is there anything else you need, Young Master Wei?” He asks from the door, hopefully.

Wei Wuxian shakes his head. ”No, that’s all. Thank you, Wen Fan,” he says with a smile and a little bit of his warm, happy scent. It makes the guard’s eyes go wide and wondering and he bows several times, way lower than he needs to before finally taking his reluctant leave.

There’s enough food on the tray for a family: cured meats, dumplings, noodles, cakes, fruits, nuts, at least three kinds of wine, and a pot of tea. Wei Wuxian doesn’t really feel like eating but forces himself to drink perhaps half of the tea and two dumplings anyway and then crawls to bed.

His dreams are filled with dark shapes and red mist and a sense of falling.

When he wakes up, he has a feeling he’s running out of time.

A couple of days later, Wen Ruohan summons him to witness his mastery over the Tally and makes Wei Wuxian watch as he turns new volunteers (read: prisoners) into living dead, puppets to do his bidding. Wei Wuxian lets out all the appropriate noises of awe and astonishment while seething on the inside. The resentful energy pooling in the puppets grates at his nerves and calls out to him, beckoning him to act. He grips Chenqing so hard his knuckles turn white and resists the call, wishing he was somewhere else.

”Ahhh, the power!” Wen Ruohan intones, throws his head back, and laughs. ”With all this power, I have become unbeatable! Immortal! I am a god!”

Wei Wuxian wants to roll his eyes but he doesn’t. Instead, he throws himself on the ground and bows. ”Indeed, Sect Leader Wen!” He cries. ”You have achieved more than anyone else before you!”

”With this power, I can end the war!” Wen Ruohan declares as the Tally spins and dances in the air over his open palm. ”But perhaps I should give them a choice first.” He pauses and then continues in a sly voice, ”Victory never tastes so delicious as it does after the defeated ones have learned just how much they truly can lose.

”Rise!” He intones. ”I’m going to give you a mission,” he continues after Wei Wuxian is, once more, kneeling in front of him. ”You, Wei Wuxian, have proven yourself useful and loyal.”

”Thank you, Sect Leader Wen. It is an honor to serve.” And I’ll serve you justice as soon as I can, Wei Wuxian continues in the safety of his mind. Chenqing agrees.

”I want to send the rest of the cultivation world a message. I want them to know that I am now all-seeing and all-knowing, and I will rule over all the sects. My title as the Chief Cultivator is no longer valid, I am to be addressed as the Emperor from now on. It is up to them to decide how vast my dominion shall be and how many subjects I have—if they agree and lay down their arms, I will only bring justice to the Sect Leaders. If they choose to continue their petty campaigns against me, I will make them watch as I turn all their disciples into my puppets and let them devour everything.” Wen Ruohan’s voice rises toward the end and Wei Wuxian sees spittle fly from his mouth when he reaches the last words.

Wow. He truly has lost it now, hasn’t he?

Wen Ruohan turns to fully face him. ”Wei Wuxian, as my firstborn is on the field right now and my…other son,” his lips curl in distaste, ”cannot, apparently, be trusted to handle even this, I’m entrusting this task to you.”

”But—Sect Leader Wen, I’m just an omega,” Wei Wuxian says, opening his eyes wide. ”Are you certain I’m up to the task?”

”Hm. You are only an omega, yes, but you have shown excellent control over your nerves in situations where omegas usually feel faint. I am impressed.”

”Thank you, Sect Leader Wen,” Wei Wuxian says and bows again. ”This one is grateful for Sect Leader’s kind words. How do you—”

His question is interrupted as the doors slam open and Wen Chao saunters in. His robes are in order and his hairpiece in place, but his face is flushed and there’s a familiar, slightly vacant look in his eyes.

”Father, you sent for me,” he calls and executes a sloppy bow. ”How may I serve?”

”I sent for you two hours ago,” Wen Ruohan snaps.

Wen Chao shrugs. ”I was busy,” he says flippantly but his scent and the flash of white in his eyes belies his confidence.

”Busy finding yet another wine house?” Wen Ruohan asks dryly and ignores Wen Chao’s spluttering. ”It doesn’t matter. You have work to do.”

Wen Chao straightens up. ”Are you finally giving me a front to handle? Thank you, Father, I will make you proud!”

”What?” Wen Ruohan scoffs. ”Don’t be ridiculous. I have capable men handling the fronts. No, you and Wei Wuxian will travel to Lanling and present the sect leaders my ascension. Wei Wuxian will present the facts and you shall ensure his safety.”

”You want me to do what?” Wen Chao cries. ”You deny me the right to fight and bring glory to our clan but send me off to play a nursemaid to a fucking omega?”

”You had your chance with the sect heirs and you fucked that up,” Wen Ruohan says. ”And then you lost your little wench and have been drinking yourself into a stupor every day ever since. The only reason I’m allowing you to go is to give you a chance to do this one thing.” He steps closer to Wen Chao and looms over him. ”Do you think you can handle the task or should I ask someone else?”

Thing is, Wen Ruohan doesn’t do anything. There’s no resentful energy pouring out of the Tally, no alpha scent hammering Wen Chao down. It’s just (admittedly dangerously unpredictable) Wen Ruohan, making his son cower and wilt under his stare. 

Wen Chao averts his eyes, slumps slightly, and mutters, ”Yes, Father.”

”Excellent!” Wen Ruohan exclaims and swirls around. ”Pick forty high-ranking disciples to accompany you. I will debrief Wei Wuxian in everything he needs to know.”

Visibly seething at being so callously dismissed, Wen Chao bows and turns to leave.

”Oh, one more thing, Wen Chao,” Wen Ruohan says. ”Do not harass Wei Wuxian.”

Wen Chao’s face goes white with rage. ”I’m your son, the second in line after Xu-ge! He’s only an omega, why do you care so much?”

Wei Wuxian feigns distress and curls slightly into himself while barely biting back his amused snort. 

”Yes, he is just an omega,” Wen Ruohan says coldly. ”But he has already proven his dedication. His presence, while I was forging the Tally, meant a great deal. You are not to touch him because he belongs to me.” He turns to look at Wei Wuxian who hurries to blink at him with wide eyes. ”I intend to take him as my consort when this ridiculous affair with the other clans is over.”

The fuck you will, Wei Wuxian thinks and stifles a disgusted sound. Oh, he knew this was coming: he’s been smelling Wen Ruohan’s attraction for some time now and the alpha’s behavior right after forging the Tally was an effective warning flag.  After his mate died, Wen Ruohan hasn’t bothered considering a new mate because, apparently, the world hadn’t produced an omega worthy of the position. Until Wei Wuxian, that is. 

Awesome.

With a start, he realizes he hasn’t reacted in any way to Wen Ruohan’s declaration and shakes his head, releasing a waft of overwhelmed omega scent. ”Sect Leader, this one isn’t worthy!” He croaks, clenching his hands together in his lap and hanging his head. 

A faint rustle of robes and then Wen Ruohan bends down to lift his chin with two cold fingers. ”You are exceptionally smart for an omega and your playing soothed my mood when constructing the Tally. And you are young and fertile. You are worthy.” His fingers leave behind a scent trail Wei Wuxian really, really wants to scrub off right-fucking-now but he flutters his lashes instead. It has the desired (eugh) effect and Wen Ruohan’s pupils dilate. ”You may call me Wen Ruohan,” he says a bit hoarsely.

”Thank you, Sect Leader,” Wei Wuxian says softly.

Wen Ruohan huffs and pats him on the head.

Wei Wuxian starts planning the most excruciatingly painful way to break all bones in his hand. It helps him through the following hours of Wen Ruohan monologuing all the things he wants Wei Wuxian to tell the sect leaders.

They head out the next day. For some inane reason, Wen Ruohan refused to let Wei Wuxian ride, so he’s in a carriage with Wen Chao who is already well on his way to a drunken stupor. 

”You omegas…high and mighty,” he sneers and takes a drink from one of the apparently dozens of bottles he has brought with. ”You think you can do anything when you bat your lashes. Like everyone would just fall over for you.” He hiccups. ”Perhaps I should bed you anyway,” Wen Chao slurs and leans closer to Wei Wuxian. ”It’s not like my father would ever find out.”

Wei Wuxian tilts his head slightly to get away from Wen Chao’s rank breath which seems to irate him even more.

”Look at me when I’m talking to you, omega!” He barks and raises his hand to do…what? 

Wei Wuxian doesn’t have patience for this shit. He grabs Wen Chao’s wrist while still gazing out of the carriage’s window and then slowly turns his head and lets his eyes turn red with resentful energy. ”Let me make something abundantly clear,” he says softly. ”You will never raise your hand against me. You will never raise your voice at me. You will never threaten me again. Because if you do,” he lets tendrils of resentment trail along Wen Chao’s cheek, ”I will slowly peel off your skin strip by strip until your whole body is flayed bare. Then, I will reach inside you and pull out your intestines through your navel in one, long string and hang them up in the air so that you can watch as they glisten in the sun like freshly made sausages. I will keep you conscious and alive so that you can watch as crows start picking at your meat and tear away your flesh until you can see your bones.”

Wen Chao’s eyes are wide his mouth gapes open. He’s afraid but it’s not enough, not even close, because Wei Wuxian wants to make him pay for everything he did during the indoctrination camp.

He leans forward and whispers, ”And when the crows have eaten their fill, I will reach into your brain and squeeze,” he adds as he wraps his scent around Wen Chao’s head and squeezes, ”until you feel like your head is about to burst and your brain starts to liquefy and trickle out from your seven orifices. And I will do all that with a smile.”

He leans back and gives Wen Chao a cheerful smile and squeezes just a bit more to drive the point home.

The heavy scent of pure terror wafting from the alpha is suddenly laced with the sharp smell of urine.

”Now,” Wei Wuxian says as he releases Wen Chao and leans back on his seat. ”We have spare horses with us. You will leave the carriage and ride next to it. Leave the wine. Do not disturb me again, is that clear?” He asks, coating his words with his scent.

”Yes, Honored Master Wei” Wen Chao chokes out. Then he bangs at the carriage wall and when it stops, he stumbles out, nearly falling to his face in his hurry to get away.

Wei Wuxian tunes him out, cleans the air and removes the stain from the other seat with a talisman before he opens his bag and digs out his journal. It’s one of many he’s been keeping, but even though he knows none of his traveling companions is smart enough to decipher the script he uses, he elects to keep his more in-depth journal in his warded giankun pouch. This journal is just for basic talisman work and figuring out some trinkets. He has an idea of a compass that could detect and pinpoint the presence of evil creatures and he idly wonders if it would actually work or if it would just end up pointing at Wen Ruohan. 

He loses himself in his own tangents and surfaces when the carriage stops and Wen Chao knocks on the door. 

”Honored Master Wei, we’re stopping for the night,” Wen Chao says without meeting his eyes.

”Oh, already?” Wei Wuxian says and then frowns as he realizes it’s getting dark. He smiles widely at Wen Chao and adds a bit of pressure to his temples. Just a bit. Not much. ”Okay. Will you set up my tent, Wen Chao?”

Wen Chao blanches and nods several times before scrambling off. 

Chuckling at himself, Wei Wuxian cleans up his journal and errant papers and leaves the carriage. The disciples are hard at work making camp and he weaves his way among them, offering thanks and words of courage with a smile and small trickle of his happy scent. It will make them more amenable toward him but it will also fuck with Wen Chao which, frankly, is just too much fun.

The rest of the journey goes without a hitch. Wen Chao keeps close to the carriage but doesn’t interact with him which is exactly what Wei Wuxian wants.

When they reach Lanling, they stop to freshen up and change. Wen Ruohan had suggested that Wei Wuxian should wear Wen colors but he managed to convince him otherwise. 

”Wearing my own robes will show them that I chose this, Sect Leader,” he’d said. ”They will instantly recognize me. It will give a more emotional impact.” (In truth, he’d rather sit on Wen Chao’s lap than wear Wen colors, but Wen Ruohan doesn’t need to know that.)

”Ah, that is probably correct,” Wen Ruohan had said. ”I will trust your judgment. You are the omega, after all, you are more in tune with the emotional side of things. But allow me to present you with this headpiece. Wear it proudly.” He’d handed Wei Wuxian an elaborate wooden box that held an intricate gold headpiece adorned with red stones. Wei Wuxian had thanked him with choked words. He may or may not have been thinking about shijie to force tears in his eyes.

The disciples switch their dusty traveling robes to more formal Wen robes and Wen Chao wears the full red regalia of the second heir of Qishan Wen. Wei Wuxian keeps his red underrobe and wears a black overrobe embroidered so thickly with silk that it seems to shine. Chenqing’s tassel is deep red and her coloring matches his outfit perfectly. Suibian is securely in his qiankun sleeve where he intends to keep it. The headpiece is slightly tricky because he’s always had his hair on a messy ponytail and combing his hair up properly isn’t a skill he has mastered. After some pondering, he sighs and decides to ask for help.

”Wen Chao, could you help me with this?” He asks as he steps out of the carriage and holds out the headpiece. ”It’s way more complicated than anything I’ve ever used. I wouldn’t want to put it on wrong and embarrass the Wen.”

”I—” Wen Chao blinks, registers Wei Wuxian’s bright smile, and swallows. ”Of course, Honored Master Wei. It would be my honor.”

Wei Wuxian tilts his head a bit to give Wen Chao better access (because no fucking way is he going to kneel), and after some time, the headpiece is on. Wen Chao’s face twitches and then he averts his eyes. ”It suits you, Honored Master Wei,” he says.

”Thank you!” He replies with a bright smile. ”Shall we?”

They enter Lanling in silence. As Wei Wuxian watches from the carriage window, he sees people peeking from the windows and from the street, gawking at the opulent carriage painted in the Wen colors and accompanied by forty disciples. Wen Chao rides next to the carriage and when they draw to a halt in front of the grand stairs to Koi Tower, he opens the door to Wei Wuxian. Without a word, the disciples step into formation with Wei Wuxian and Wen Chao in the middle and they start climbing the stairs. Wei Wuxian walks with his head held high and Chenqing on his belt and Wen Chao follows, one step behind him. (What an obedient little alpha! Wei Wuxian didn’t even need to remind him.)

When they reach the doors to the grand hall, Jin guards step in front of the doors. Wen Chao is about to bark orders at the Wen guards but Wei Wuxian gives him a look and instead moves the guards out of the way with a flick of his wrist and a burst of resentful energy. Then he nods at the Wen disciples who push the doors open to let Wei Wuxian and Wen Chao in.

The Wen guards fan out while Wei Wuxian and Wen Chao wait in the doorway, Wen Chao standing straight with his sword in his hand while Wei Wuxian is relaxed, hands clasped behind his back. He takes a look around the room, his gaze jumping from one sect leader to the next, reading the emotions on their faces. Jin Guangshan looks annoyed, Nie Mingjue is outraged (and behind him, Nie Huaisang watches him over his fan with sharp eyes), Jiang Cheng is just plain angry, and Lan Xichen’s eyes are wide with shock. Next to his brother, Lan Zhan is deathly pale. Behind the leaders of the four major sects, the minor sects fan out, clearly hesitant and looking for clues from the major sect leaders.

”Good afternoon, esteemed cultivators,” Wei Wuxian says. ”I’m here on behalf of Chief Cultivator Wen. He has a proposition to you.” He tilts his head and smiles. ”It starts with changing his title from Chief Cultivator to Emperor.”

For a moment, there’s absolute silence.

And then—

”—what is the meaning of this—”

”—a private meeting—”

”—how dare you—”

”—WEI WUXIAN!”

He raises his hand to ask for silence and bit by bit, the chaos ebbs into a murmur. It’s like being surrounded by a cloud of angry bees, Wei Wuxian muses.

”Sect Leader Wen would like to inform you the following:

”He has successfully finished the Yin Tiger Tally and has mastered demonic cultivation. He is now all-seeing and all-knowing and his powers are immeasurable and incomprehensible. Through this, he has reached immortality.

”I am here to propose an alliance. Each sect will acknowledge the might of the Qishan Wen Clan, lay down their arms, and surrender. Each Sect Leader will bow before him and accept his judgment. If you choose to continue with the campaign against the Wen, he shall make you watch as he rains destruction on your disciples and fellow clansmen.

”From now on, Sect Leader Wen is to be called Emperor Wen.”

He turns slowly around and takes in the shock and outrage pouring from each sect leader. Yeah. They’re hating it.

”You will have one day to negotiate. These terms will expire tomorrow at sunset.”

With that, he bows and turns to leave, followed by the cacophony of shouting and swearing. He’s almost out of the door when someone grabs his arm and yanks. Reacting to his flash of panic, Chenqing acts on instinct. She lashes out a cloud of resentful energy as Wei Wuxian stumbles with the momentum, turning just in time to see Jiang Cheng being thrown across the room. He lands with a crash and scrambles up with a look of absolute betrayal, Zidian crackling in his finger. 

Despite the pain in his heart, Wei Wuxian doesn’t avert his eyes.

”Heresy!” Someone shouts. ”Demon!” Yells another.

Wei Wuxian glances down to dust his robes and when he raises his head, he lets his eyes slowly bleed red. ”Touching me without explicit permission isn’t very wise,” he says softly. ”So don’t do that. I wouldn’t want anyone to get unduly hurt.”

With a final bow, he turns and walks out. Wen Chao will take care of the arrangements for their stay, Wei Wuxian just needs to get away for a moment.

Thank you, he thinks and strokes his thumb along Chenqing’s side.

He doesn’t let himself think of how Jiang Cheng must hate him now even more than before.

He doesn’t let himself think about the look in Lan Zhan’s eyes.

He lifts his head, looks up to the sun, and lets it burn.

Meng Yao is three when Mother tells him to never trust an alpha and, more importantly, to never fall in love.

Meng Yao doesn’t really understand what that means. Alphas are loud and smelly and angry and they hurt Mother and the others. Not all alphas but enough so that Meng Yao knows to give them a wide berth. Some alphas ignore him and some try to kick him out of their way, so it’s just easiest to try and stay out of their line of sight.

They live in a house with lots of beta and omega women and omega men and he and Mother share the room with two other women. It’s a small and cramped space and Meng Yao often feels like he shouldn’t be there but Mother always tells him that he doesn’t need to worry about that. On the odd nights Mother isn’t working, he sleeps next to her but usually she is working and Meng Yao has the whole bed for himself. It’s narrow but it’s quite soft and smells like Mother which is enough for him. 

Sometimes, Mother talks to him about his Sire. She doesn’t use the word Father because they both know that’s not who the alpha is—he’s Meng Yao’s Sire because he bought Mother’s heat and left her with a rose-colored pearl in her pillow and Meng Yao in her belly. Mother’s scent often turns brittle and slightly burnt when she talks about him but she tries to mask it with her happy floral scent that wraps around Meng Yao like a hug.

Meng Yao knows Mother wishes more for him than the life in the house with other entertainers. She teaches him to read and write, to bow and sit properly, she even uses her meager savings to get him a private tutor for guqin lessons. The other entertainers roll their eyes at him and laugh at her behind her back but Mother doesn’t care. She tries to teach Meng Yao not to care, either, but it doesn’t quite work. He’s always conscious of the judgmental eyes burning in the back of his neck.

As he grows, the Madam of the house gives him chores. Swipe the floors. Wash the pots. Dust the lanterns. He does them all like a good boy but Madam never thanks him. She tells him it’s time he starts pulling his weight and earning his keep. Meng Yao bows properly like Mother taught him. ”Yes, Madam,” he says and ignores her snort. Madam is the only female alpha Meng Yao knows but she doesn’t kick him as the male alphas do. So, she’s nice. At least to a certain degree.

Mother is worried about him. She doesn’t say it outright but he knows the looks on her face and he recognizes the worried pinch in her eyes. When he asks her what’s wrong, she sighs and shakes her head. ”I never wanted this life for you, A-Yao,” she says and cups his cheek in her hand. Meng Yao isn’t sure what she means because it’s the only life he’s ever lived. He isn’t sure what else is there. (The tales Mother tells her are fantastical and even though they sound nice, deep down he knows they don’t matter.)

When Meng Yao is nine, Mother falls ill. She gets a hacking, wet cough that wracks through her frame like a storm, leaving her weak and trembling. Madam isn’t pleased; she claims her coughing scares customers away and loses her money, and she’s more than ready to kick them both out. Meng Yao pleads her to give them just a bit more time and he pleads Mother to let him pay for the doctor and medicine with the rose-colored pearl. Mother refuses and then succumbs to a feverish delirium. For the first time in his life, Meng Yao is truly afraid.

”I don’t have the money to get a doctor!” Madam scoffs. They both know it’s a lie: business has been good lately and Meng Yao’s playing tends to lure in even more people. They like to sit and watch the beautiful boy playing, and while they watch, they drink, and the more they drink, the easier they are to coax upstairs for more services. But all this doesn’t matter because Madam is the one with the power here. And they both know it.

Meng Yao drops to his knees and bows low. ”Please, Madam,” he says. ”I’ll do anything.”

Madam pauses and lets out a smug hum. ”Anything?” She asks.

Meng Yao closes his eyes. ”Anything,” he confirms.

A short moment later, he stares at the red stain on his thumb and thinks back how his thumbprint had looked next to his name on the contract Madam had drawn so very, very quickly. It takes days for the ink to fade away, just in time for Mother to recover with the aid of the doctor and the medication they prescribed.

Meng Yao doesn’t tell Mother what he gave away for her.

Madam doesn’t tell Mother, either, but she keeps Meng Yao on a tight leash ever since. He isn’t to do chores that roughen his skin or risk damaging his body in any way. Instead, she makes him help her with the bookkeeping, a task Meng Yao soon falls in love with. There’s power in numbers and patterns he learns, and keeps his newfound knowledge close to heart.

Two years later, an enraged alpha customer shoves Mother down the stairs, and the tumble breaks her neck before she lands on the floor. The customer pays compensation to Madam and Meng Yao is left with the rose-colored pearl and aching loneliness in the center of his chest.

Madam gives him a day off to see to Mother’s funeral and then he’s to work as usual.

Meng Yao bows and complies. He’s still bound to the house by his contract, after all. 

Meng Yao is twelve when he learns how true Mother’s words are.

He’s been restless for some days and his skin feels tender and itchy. It doesn’t affect his performance, though, on the contrary: he’s been bringing in more customers and more money than ever before. He has a ring of alphas around him, watching him with dark eyes as he loses himself in the music. It’s somewhat unnerving but since Madam gives him an approving nod, he continues.

It comes to stop on the fifth evening. Madam pulls him to the side and says, ”Meng Yao, the time to pay up your contract has come. I have made arrangements.”

He feels incredibly stupid for even thinking that Madam would forget about his promise. Madam isn’t the kind who forgets things that would bring her profit. Of course she’ll remember that Meng Yao signed off his first heat to sell for the highest bidder.

”I’ve cleared up Magnolia Room,” Madam continues. ”You shall reside there until the time comes.”

Meng Yao bows. ”Yes, Madam,” he says. ”May I bring my guqin?”

”You may bring whatever personal items you want,” she says imperiously. ”But no toys. This is your first heat, it’s important that the customer will get the proper experience.”

”Yes, Madam,” Meng Yao says and bows again before leaving.

Magnolia Room is the most beautiful room in the brothel, reserved for the highest-ranking customers and special occasions. Apparently, Meng Yao’s first heat counts as a special occasion. He makes himself as comfortable as he can but soon grows bored. He’s used to being active and doesn’t know how to be idle so he plays a bit and then tries to meditate like Mother taught him. It doesn’t work as it usually does because the itching and restlessness are back and it’s annoying. 

Madam brings him silk scarves to wear around his neck throughout the day and then she retrieves them by evening. She deals them out to the other entertainers (prostitutes, a voice in the back of Meng Yao mind whispers) to entice customers with Meng Yao’s budding heat scent. She brings him soft, thin robes for the main event even though they both know they will be ripped off of him. He drinks the slightly bitter tea Madam brings him, bathes with the fragrant soap Madam provides him, and uses Mother’s hair oil to tend his hair, twisting it to a simple hairdo that accents his face. 

He doesn’t bother asking if it will hurt. He already knows it will and he can only hope he’ll be so far gone in his heat that he won’t care.

And then he wakes up feverish, aching, empty, and he knows his time is up. He bathes and dresses in a flimsy, see-through robe and waits.

The alpha who enters the room (and later, him) is an imposing man wrapped in white and gold. His scent responds to Meng Yao’s call but it feels wrong, everything feels wrong, but it doesn’t matter. The alpha flips him to his stomach and yanks his hips up before burying his face into his ass and it feels sort of weird and sort of good and then it suddenly feels so intense that all Meng Yao can do is to spasm and shout as the alpha forces him to climax. (He will later learn that many alphas believe that an omega’s first heat slick has healing properties, especially when devoured straight from the source. He’s sure the tale was invented by omegas wanting to make sure at least some of them would get properly eaten out in their first time.) He barely has the chance to catch his breath when the alpha enters him, pushes into him in one, powerful stroke, and he knew it would hurt but he had no idea it would hurt like this, like he’s been torn apart. But there’s nothing Meng Yao can do because he’s twelve and he signed his first heat off to save Mother’s life and this alpha bought it and is just taking what’s his. 

The first knotting rips something inside him and he bites into the pillow under his head to muffle the scream of pure agony. The alpha is heavy over him, shuddering and grunting through his aftershocks, and Meng Yao trembles with him. After an insurmountable time, the alpha sits up and lifts Meng Yao with him so that he leans back against the alpha’s chest, his legs spread, and the knot tugging at his rim. The alpha shuffles slightly and turns them so that Meng Yao can see them in the large mirror next to the bed. He doesn’t recognize himself and doesn’t particularly enjoy the sight, so he closes his eyes and turns his head to bury his nose in the alpha’s neck. He doesn’t want to but he was told this appeases to alphas. And this alpha clearly enjoys it: he rumbles and his cock jerks inside Meng Yao. Then he curls his hand around Meng Yao’s flaccid cock and starts pumping and Meng Yao’s body responds like an omega in heat: he grows hard and squirms in the alpha’s lap, and when the alpha pinches and twists his nipples, Meng Yao comes with a gasp and a shudder, clenching around the knot. It prompts another climax from the alpha who pushes himself even further in until Meng Yao is sure the alpha’s cock must be visible through his belly. 

He doesn’t look.

***

The alpha takes him four times that night and when he leaves, he pats Meng Yao on his behind and drops four rose-colored pearls on the bed next to his hand. Then he walks out, leaving Meng Yao on his stomach, his hole fucked open with the alpha’s seed trickling out, and dread pooling in his gut.

He doesn’t talk about it. He doesn’t even think about it. He sleeps through the day and then washes himself methodically, takes clinical stock on his injuries, and catalogs how his body feels. He packs his things and returns to the room he shares with Sisi. He hides the pearls, now five instead of one, and returns to his duties.

His debt to Madam is paid. He ignores Madam’s irritated eye roll as he politely asks her to write the addendum ”completed” to the contract and then bows and leaves to hide the scroll too.

***

He stays as the bookkeeper. 

He plays his guqin.

He finds the page in the reservation book that has the date of his heat, followed by his name and the alpha’s name underneath it.

He bides his time, keeps the books, makes sure to be a perfect servant even when Madam kicks Sisi out on the pretense of her age. He makes sure to never trickle too much money off the records to take care of Sisi. And when the time is right, he serves Madam her nightly wine laced with a sleeping potion, rips out the only page from the records he needs, and leaves.

Sisi’s hand feels warm and steady in his as they stand at the alley and watch the brothel burn. The flames are bright and beautiful and they warm their backs as they walk away.

Meng Yao is sixteen when he meets the alpha who makes him doubt his mother’s words.

He and Sisi have ended up in Hongcun village where they set up a small business as a bookkeeper and a seamstress. They gather a reputation as a quiet and polite young man and his hardworking auntie. Meng Yao doesn’t talk about his Sire and Sisi doesn’t talk about how she got the scar across her face that caused Madam to drive her out. They work during the day and in the evenings, Meng Yao either plays his guqin or reads to her. He has to let his heat come once a year and when it does, he locks himself in his room and shivers through it, refusing to give in to memories.

For some time, life is good.

Then Sisi scrapes her ankle in a rusted nail and by the time they realize it, it’s already too late to summon a doctor who could do more than give her medicine for the pain. She’s been frail ever since she’d been kicked to the street and the sickness claims her quickly. And then, Meng Yao is alone.

He considers leaving. 

He doesn’t.

He makes sure Sisi gets the funeral she deserves and then he commissions two memorial tablets, one for Sisi and one for Mother. He thanks the craftsman for his excellent work, pays for the tablets, and walks home. He sets the tablets on the small altar he built in his bedroom and then he breaks down.

Life goes on, as life tends to do. He picks up work again, concentrates on the bookkeeping, and ignores the looks he gathers at the marketplace. Too many people know he lives alone now and it makes him vulnerable.

He hates feeling vulnerable so he makes contingency plans. And then he makes more plans. 

(His ultimate plan, in the end, is to disgrace his Sire and destroy his life. He just has to figure out how to get there.)

***

One day, he’s too wrapped up in his thoughts and bumps straight into someone. He looks up—and up and up—to apologize and blanches when he meets the stormy eyes of an alpha. With a sabre in his back.

A Nie alpha. Meng Yao’s whole body goes cold.

”This one apologizes,” he says hastily and bows. ”This one didn’t watch where he was going, please forgive.” He doesn’t dare to look up let alone stand up. He’s a lone omega with no familial alpha scent-mark, if this alpha decides to—

”Da-ge, what have you done now?” The voice is light, exasperated, and before Meng Yao realizes someone—a fellow omega, safe safe safe— has wrapped an arm around him and gently coaxes him to stand up.

”Put your frown away, you’re scaring him!” The young omega scolds and taps the alpha on the nose with his fan.

The alpha scowls. 

The young omega rolls his eyes. ”No, you did it wrong, da-ge. You were supposed to put the scowl away, not deepen it. Oh, well.” He sighs and shakes his head and then snaps his fan open in front of their faces. ”Are you in trouble?” He asks in a low voice with sudden intensity. ”Do you need help?”

”What?” Meng Yao asks. He dares a glance up at the alpha and sees the scowl directed at the curiously staring people around them.

”Is someone after you? Da-ge tends to take it personally if someone’s harassing omegas, and I’d like to get out of the way. I don’t like blood,” he says and shivers.

Meng Yao stares for a moment and then collects himself. ”I’m fine, Young Master. Thank you for your concern.”

”Huaisang, everything okay?” The alpha asks softly.

Ah. So, if this is Nie Huaisang, the alpha can only be Sect Leader Nie, Meng Yao realizes faintly. He’s fierce like all Nie alphas but he has heard whispers Sect Leader Nie is actually softer than he looks.

He decides to gamble. 

He takes a small step back and bows, properly. ”This one’s name is Meng Yao, Sect Leader Nie, Young Master Nie,” he says. And then he stands up, steels himself, and looks Sect Leader Nie straight in the eye. ”This one appreciates Sect Leader for the show of concern.” He projects his voice so that the sellers on the nearby stalls hear him. The gossip will be all over the marketplace by the evening, adding another layer to his contingency plans.

Sect Leader Nie stares at him for a moment and blinks. Beside him, Young Master Nie hides his grin behind his fan. 

That day, Meng Yao walks home from the market in a daze, head held high, and a scent-mark left by an exasperated Sect Leader who huffed, shook his head, and oh-so-carefully gripped his shoulder.

***

Two months later, he gets a visitor. It’s a surprise since he honestly didn’t think he’d ever see either Sect Leader Nie or his brother again but there they are, at his doorstep. Meng Yao covers his confusion with a polite smile and invites them in, ignoring the curious onlookers who pretend (and fail) not to gawk. 

”You have a lovely home,” Young Master Nie says as Meng Yao shows them into his study. ”Doesn’t he, da-ge?”

Sect Leader Nie grunts, sits down, and closes his eyes. Young Master Nie rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

Meng Yao is woefully, terribly out of his depth, but he keeps his face smooth and his voice soft. ”May I offer you some tea? I’m afraid the quality isn’t as high as you probably are accustomed to.”

While he busies himself with the soothing routines of preparing tea, Meng Yao’s mind races. Why are they here? The last time he checked, Hongcun village didn’t fall under the Qinghe Nie jurisdiction, and he can’t remember doing anything to directly offend the Nies. Is this about his unfortunate run-in on Sect Leader Nie? Had the scent-mark on his shoulder been an actual claim, a sign of what is to come later? Were all the rumors false and is Sect Leader Nie here to claim what he feels is his to take? If so, there’s nothing Meng Yao can do to stop him.

With a conscious effort, he reels his emotions under control and steals a glance at the Nies from the corner of his eye. Young Master Nie tilts his head and studies the scrolls on the shelf, careful not to touch anything but Meng Yao has a feeling he doesn’t miss much. Sect Leader Nie seems to be meditating. Or sleeping. Neither of them makes Meng Yao feel like he’s in danger which makes him more nervous than he’s willing to admit.

He plasters a polite smile on and prepares to serve them when Young Master Nie motions with his fan. ”There’s no need for a sermon. Please, sit.” 

Meng Yao sits and watches as Young Master Nie pours tea for Meng Yao and himself, then sets the pot down, and drinks. 

”Timing is a strange thing,” Young Master Nie says as he opens his fan and waves it lazily. It’s beautiful, pale green paper neatly folded between light wood with an illustration of delicate peonies drifting down a stream. Meng Yao wonders if Young Master Nie truly paints all his fans himself as the rumor says.

”One would say it was a fortunate day for us to be on that market the day we met,” Young Master Nie continues. ”Or that we happened to choose a route home that goes through Hongcun village.” He pours himself another cup of tea. ”Or that you ended up here exactly eleven days after a certain house caught fire in Yunping.” Young Master Nie’s eyes are wide over the brim of his fan.

Meng Yao reaches for his cup. His hand doesn’t shake. ”Housefires are such terrible things,” he murmurs.

Young Master Nie inclines his head. ”Indeed they are,” he agrees.

Meng Yao wonders what will happen next. Are the Nie here to detain him? Why? Hongcun Village isn’t under their jurisdiction and Yunping is even further—it can’t be about that. Is this about blackmailing? He can’t figure out a reason why. Qinghe Nie is a wealthy, stable Sect. He heaves an internal sigh. He really doesn’t want to run again but he isn’t willing to become a plaything eith—

”You are thinking very loudly,” Young Master Nie stage-whispers.

”What?” Meng Yao blurts and then berates himself for his slip of control. Young Master Nie’s eyes light up like he’s pleased, but Meng Yao doesn’t understand why.

”I have a…proposition for you,” Young Master Nie says. He must see the disappointment in Meng Yao’s eyes because he rolls his eyes and continues, ”Not that kind of a proposition. Da-ge isn’t interested—it’s nothing personal, he just isn’t into omegas—and I'm not interested in, well, anything.”

”Huaisang!” Sect Leader Nie barks. Meng Yao braces himself for the scent of an angry alpha but can only sense exasperation and…embarrassment?

Young Master Nie sniffs and studies the closed fan in his hand. ”If you don’t want to hear it, you can always leave, you know?”

Meng Yao isn’t sure what he expected but Sect Leader Nie standing up, nodding at Meng Yao, and stepping out of the room wasn’t it. When he turns his head to face Young Master Nie again, only his self-control prevents him from flinching back from the sharp, almost predatory look in the younger omega’s eyes.

”I know exactly who you are, Meng Yao,” Young Master Nie says calmly. ”I know where your mother worked and who your Sire is. I know what happened to the house you grew up in and I know why. I know quite a lot about you.” He cocks his head. ”But I don’t know how far you’re willing to go to get what you want.”

Meng Yao offers him a serene smile. ”And what is it that I want?”

”I don’t know,” Young Master Nie demurs. ”But I’m sure you do.”

***

Nothing really changes. Meng Yao keeps working diligently, keeps helping his neighbors, keeps visiting the market, keeps living his life.

Every week, he writes a letter to Young Master Nie—now Nie Huaisang—and gives his report on things he’s learned.

Every month, Sect Leader Nie—now Nie Mingjue—visits him and takes him for a walk, carefully polite and terribly scowly at the same time. Neither of them cares about the scandalized whispers of a Sect Leader courting the son of a prostitute.

(Which he, obviously, isn’t doing.)

Meng Yao doesn’t see how it’s anyone else’s business. He lives in the quiet security Nie Mingjue’s presence gives him and in the privacy of his own bedroom, allows himself to marvel at how it feels to not be afraid of an alpha.

Meng Yao is eighteen when he meets the alpha who makes him question everything Mother ever said to him.

He’s in Qinghe Nie visiting Nie Huaisang. It’s his second time in the Unclean Realm—not because he’s not welcome but because they want to minimize the probability of anyone recognizing him. In reality, the chances are quite low: while he’s still small and delicate, he’s more mature now, and with his hair braided in the Nie style, it would be hard to claim he’s the fragile, young omega from a Yunping brothel.

It’s a small meeting Nie Mingjue is hosting—irritated and fed up, as usual—and Unclean Realm is busy. Why Nie Huaisang wanted him to come now of all times is unclear to Meng Yao but since Nie Huaisang never does anything without a reason, he arrived when summoned. He keeps to himself, indulges in the books Nie Huaisang has left for him, and playing his guqin. He finds he enjoys these rare quiet moments, shielded in the inner courtyard of Unclean Realm.

He’s playing when it happens. (Later, he will wonder if it was fate, even though he doesn’t believe in such frivolities as fate.) When the final notes fade away, he hears someone sigh, and only his long practice of curbing in his reactions keeps Meng Yao from flinching. 

”I apologize,” a soft male voice says. ”I didn’t mean to disturb you. It’s just…” A man in white robes wearing a forehead ribbon steps forward and stops at a respectful distance.

Ah…a Lan alpha, Meng Yao sighs to himself. No wonder I didn’t sense him.

The ornament on his ribbon marks him as one of the main family and, considering his age and presence, he has to be Sect Leader Lan. Meng Yao allows himself a short burst of pure annoyance because this is the third Sect Leader who somehow finds their way to him and he’d rather not. But he pushes his annoyance down, lets his lips draw into a shy smile, and asks, ”What can I do for you, Sect Leader Lan?”

”If I may be so bold, I enjoyed your playing,” Sect Leader Lan says. 

”Thank you, Sect Leader Lan,” Meng Yao says. ”Would you wish me to play more?”

”Please,” Sect Leader Lan says and then he proceeds to listen to Meng Yao with an attentive smile.

It’s distracting.

After two more pieces, Meng Yao excuses himself and leaves. He feels Sect Leader Lan’s eyes follow him across the yard.

***

The next morning, Nie Huaisang collects him from his room and leads him through backdoors, corridors, and stairs into a windowless room. In the middle of the room stands Yu Ziyuan, the Violet Spider.

”You must be joking,” she says flatly.

Meng Yao has no idea what’s going on, but he drops to a respectful bow anyway.

”We need a third,” Nie Huaisang says mildly. ”We need Meng Yao.”

”He’s a son of a prostitute,” Madam Yu hisses.

”Who has the means to bring down Jin Guangshan,” Nie Huaisang counters. ”Also, you of all people should know better than to despise someone by their heritage.”

Madam Yu scoffs. ”Stand up,” she snaps and steps next to Meng Yao as he straightens himself. 

She’s formidable and more powerful than anyone Meng Yao has so far encountered but he holds himself still as she snatches his wrist and watches his reaction to her spiritual energy searing through him. It burns and leaves him light-headed with a strange ache in his belly.

”Your cultivation isn’t very high,” Madam Yu says.

Meng Yao smiles and bows. ”It’s no wonder, Madam, since this one had a late start. This one is a son of a prostitute, after all.”

She narrows her eyes at him but he holds his smile in place which grants him a flash of reluctant approval in her eyes.

”Fine,” Madam Yu says and turns to Nie Huaisang. ”But he’s your responsibility. Just like he is mine. At least for now.”

”Of course,” Nie Huaisang says and bows. 

Meng Yao has a feeling he’s already been dismissed but he still has the need to ask, ”Madam Yu, Young Master Nie, is there anything you’d want this one to do to prepare?”

Madam Yu raises a brow at Nie Huaisang.

”Hmm…You might want to move closer to Gusu,” Nie Huaisang murmurs. ”And perhaps invest on a horse and a cart.”

***

Some weeks later, Meng Yao is waiting at a specific place as per Nie Huaisang’s orders, his cart and horse hidden behind the bushes. His strange orders—and everything else—start to make a lot more sense when a shape emerges from the early morning fog, bent and staggering as if carrying a heavy burden. Meng Yao waits until the man comes closer and can’t keep down a small gasp as he recognizes Sect Leader Lan. His face is grey with exhaustion and his robes stained with blood and soot and there’s a terrible, empty look in his eyes.

”Sect Leader Lan!” Meng Yao whispers urgently and runs to catch him as he seems to fall. ”Sect Leader Lan! Are you injured?”

Sect Leader Lan stops, sways, and looks at him with uncomprehending eyes. Then he falls to his knees and starts to weep.

Shit, Meng Yao thinks as he gently coaxes the alpha up. ”We can’t stay here, Sect Leader Lan,” he says. ”Please, follow me.” 

It takes some maneuvring but he finally manages to haul both the barely conscious alpha and whatever he’s been carrying in his many qiankun pouches into his cart and covers them with a burlap sack before he starts the journey back home. His new house is smaller than his previous one but it has more privacy, a garden, and an impressive selection of protective spells Nie Huaisang provided him as a housewarming gift embedded into the very walls. 

He strips Sect Leader Lan from his dirtied outer robes in the barn and walks him in, keeping his mind as clinical as possible when the alpha’s skin feels like a furnace against his arm through the thin underrobe. He wipes the alpha’s face, neck, chest, and hands with cool water and then pours him into his bed. Before he leaves, he undoes Sect Leader Lan’s hair just enough to get the ornamental hairpiece off, then tucks him in, and takes great care not to trail his fingers over the alpha’s cheek.

He hides the qiankun pouches into the secret compartment in his desk and, after taking care of the horse, collects the soiled robes from the barn and spends the day slowly, carefully washing them. It’s easier than he thought, most likely because of the spells woven into the fabric.

He resolutely doesn’t think about the alpha sleeping in his bed.

***

Meng Yao probably should’ve known it would happen. Years of drinking low-grade heat-suppressing teas are detrimental to one’s health and now he’s been forced to stop, of course he goes into heat with an alpha under his roof.

Lan Xichen has been living with him for a month. He gently insists Meng Yao call him Xichen and Meng Yao insists he wouldn’t dare and would Sect Leader Lan like more tea? On top of that Meng Yao has been adamant that Lan Xichen sleeps in the bed and Lan Xichen has been gently appalled and refused to force Meng Yao to sleep on the floor in his own house. It ends in a frankly ridiculous stand-off where they sit facing each other, each convinced the other should take the bed, each just as unwilling to inconvenience the other. Lan Xichen smiles (gently) as he meditates and Meng Yao smiles (stubbornly) as he says he’s perfectly fine on the floor. 

It ends when Meng Yao wakes up in his bed after a full night’s rest and Lan Xichen biding him good morning with a steaming cup of tea. 

It ends with the all-too-familiar ache in Meng Yao’s lower back and the itching under his skin.

Of course it does.

He watches as Lan Xichen breathes in and freezes. He watches as Lan Xichen’s eyes go wide and his lips part. As the alpha’s pupils dilate, Meng Yao backs slowly up against the wall. And there’s nowhere to go.

He is in heat and he’s trapped in a small room with one of the most powerful alphas of his generation.

And then, Lan Xichen takes a step back and averts his eyes.

Meng Yao doesn’t understand.

”What do you need from me?” Lan Xichen asks. When Meng Yao keeps silent, he raises his gaze and repeats, ”Meng Yao, what may I do to help?”

Meng Yao shakes his head because he doesn’t understand. Lan Xichen is an alpha, why is he asking, it doesn’t make sense, it’s almost like—

”I have a choice?” He wonders aloud.

Len Xichen closes his eyes like Meng Yao’s words physically hurt him. ”Of course you have a choice,” he says. ”Meng Yao, A-Yao, you always have a choice.” He falls to his knees next to the bed and when Meng Yao flinches back, he backs away again with an apologetic smile. 

”If you want me to sit outside and guard your door, I will. If you want me to be in the room and play to you, I will. If you want me to hold you, I will.” He swallows and continues, ”And, A-Yao, if you want me to do more, I will. But only if you ask me now when you’re still yourself. I know you have no reason to trust me but I swear to you, A-Yao. I’m a Lan, I know how to control myself.

”Let me be what you need. Please.”

For a moment—and eon—all Meng Yao can do is to stare. Is he serious? Meng Yao can smell Lan Xichen’s arousal as a warm undercurrent in the room—does he really think he can hold himself back? Who does he think he is?

And yet—

And yet.

Meng Yao is so tired of feeling alone, vulnerable, and hurting. Every other time he can push it away but when his heat comes, he curls up in his bed in a miserable ball and wishes he could speed time so it would be over and he could go back feeling normal. He doesn’t want to hurt. He doesn’t want to ache.

He doesn’t want to feel so alone.

A small whimper escapes him without his permission. 

”A-Yao?”

Why does he sound so gentle? It doesn’t make any sense!

”Could you?” He asks anyway. 

”Could I…what?” Lan Xichen prompts. ”You have to say it, A-Yao.”

He swallows and looks up. ”Could you hold me? Nothing—nothing more. Just hold me?”

Lan Xichen’s whole being softens as he smiles. ”It would be my honor to hold you through your heat, A-Yao.”

And he does exactly that. He climbs into Meng Yao’s bed and wraps his arms around him, releases a steady stream of his alpha scent that curls around Meng Yao in a soft blanket. He hums a lullaby as Meng Yao shivers through his heat fever and strokes his hair as he dozes. His hands never trail below Meng Yao’s waist and his lips only press kisses on the top of his head.

When it’s over, when Meng Yao wakes up sticky, sweaty, and disgusting but with a clear mind, Lan Xichen looks at him and smiles. Meng Yao stares back at him with wide eyes and kisses him, and for one, wonderful moment, Lan Xichen kisses him back.

Then he breaks the kiss and presses their foreheads together.

”Don’t give me something you’re not willing to give,” he whispers.

”But I am,” Meng Yao says.

”Not yet,” Lan Xichen says and closes his eyes. ”Please, I—I couldn’t bear the thought of taking something you’re not sure you want me to have.”

***

One day, a couple of weeks later, when Lan Xichen completely ruins both laundry and cooking and then nearly destroys Meng Yao’s beloved beehives, Meng Yao finally loses it. He stands in the middle of his small garden and yells at the sheepish Sect Leader Lan, the First Jade of Lan, Zewu-jun, who somehow completely forgot about Meng Yao’s careful and precise notes on how NOT to handle the beehives. 

”I can’t believe you!” He screams.

”Yes, I am quite unbelievable,” Lan Xichen says and Meng Yao. Just. Can’t. He marches to Lan Xichen, narrows his eyes at this annoying, endearing, perfect man, and grabs him by the robes to yank him into a kiss.

”This is unwise,” he says as he comes up for air. ”I’m not someone you should associate with.”

”A-Yao,” Lan Xichen says and cups his face. His eyes are sad and serious. ”I’m a Sect Leader without a sect. My home was burned. My father was murdered, my uncle seriously injured, my brother missing, my people—” He closes his eyes for a moment, visibly collecting himself. ”I have lost so much already. I refuse to lose you because of some triviality like your parentage.”

”But you don’t know everything,” Meng Yao insists.

Lan Xichen tilts his head and considers. ”Have you murdered someone?”

Meng Yao blinks. ”Well, not yet—”

”Except that we’re at war, death is inevitable,” Lan Xichen says with a slight frown.

Meng Yao groans and buries his face on Lan Xichen’s chest.

Meng Yao is nineteen when he walks into the burned, reclaimed Cloud Recesses and comes home. He knows who he is and even though the vile words aimed at him will never stop hurting, he’s learned to live with them.

But he will tear to shreds anyone who tries to come for his mate.

He is Meng Yao, son of a prostitute, bastard of Jin Guangshan, mate of Sect Leader Lan.

And he knows exactly what he wants.

The positive side-effect of Wen Ruohan’s conditioned schedule is that at least it made sure Wei Wuxian wakes up early. Or, well, at least here in Lanling, it can be counted as a positive side-effect since it means he can take a walk in relative peace. So, he dons his hair up the best he can—which is pretty well even if he says so himself—tucks Chenqing into his belt and Suibian into his qiankun sleeve, and heads out. The gardens of Koi Tower are pretty if a bit too vigorously trimmed for his tastes, but it’s still a welcome change of scenery after months in Nightless City. He takes his time, walks slowly along the well-kept paths, and breathes in the carefully curated albeit slightly overwhelming floral scent wafting from the flowerbeds. The few disciples he sees, bow hurriedly and then flee, glancing back at him with wide, scared eyes and the sharp tang of fear trailing after them. 

He ignores them.

After some wandering around, he takes a seat in a shielded pavilion in a secluded corner. The sky is clear and he leans his head back against the pavilion column and sighs. He isn’t looking forward to the day, meeting the sect leaders and facing more verbal abuse while trying to dodge both Jiang Cheng and Lan Zhan. The stress of being near Wen Ruohan has been eating at him but the stress he feels now isn’t easier. It’s just different.

He must’ve dozed off because the next thing he realizes is Chenqing’s warning of someone approaching. He keeps his eyes closed and his pose relaxed as he reaches out with his senses. 

Ah, right.

A moment of silence and then, ”Wei Ying.”

Wei Wuxian seriously considers faking sleep. He does. But he knows Lan Zhan knows he’s awake and if he’s honest, it’s better to deal with this now. So, he opens his eyes and turns his head a bit, looks at the alpha from the corner of his eye. ”Hello, Hanguang-jun,” he says calmly.

Lan Zhan flinches at the use of his title but doesn’t leave. ”Wei Ying, you—you are alive,” he says. It comes out as a broken half-whisper and the sheer desperation in the alpha’s voice takes him by surprise.

Curbing in his reaction, Wei Wuxian turns to sit sideways and leans his chin on his hand as he looks at Lan Zhan. ”Yes. I am.”

Lan Zhan doesn’t say anything, he’s just standing there with his shoes touching the edge of the pavilion. He’s thinner than Wei Wuxian remembers, his face gaunt and his delicate fingers that clench his sword have an almost skeletal look. Even his hair seems to have lost its lustrous shine and his eyes… Wei Wuxian averts his gaze. Lan Zhan’s eyes are bottomless pits of grief, red-rimmed, and wide. They drink Wei Wuxian in like he’s something special and he doesn’t…it makes him uncomfortable. 

Lan Zhan shouldn’t look at him like that.

”How?” Lan Zhan asks tonelessly.

Wei Wuxian smiles tightly. ”A stroke of luck.” He doesn’t continue and the silence grows uncomfortable. After a couple of minutes, he can’t take it anymore so he stands up. ”Well, I’ll be going then,” he says and walks past Lan Zhan with way more confidence than he actually feels. Up close he smells just as good as Wei Wuxian remembers, the warm scent of sandalwood curling around him like an old friend. But there’s a difference, an undercurrent of stale ashes and brittle, winter-bitten leaves, the scent of grief. Is that why he’s wearing all white? Ah, but of course, he’s grieving his father and every one the Wen had murdered while ransacking Gusu. Wei Wuxian is happy Lan Xichen is alright at least.

”Wei Ying, demonic cultivation—” Lan Zhan says and then pauses. ”It’s dangerous.”

Wei Wuxian stops. ”We’re at war,” he says mildly over his shoulder. ”Life is dangerous.” Then he sighs and shakes his head. ”Goodbye, Hanguang-jun,” he says. 

He doesn’t even make it for three steps when Lan Zhan grabs his arm. 

Chenqing rears up, ready to defend him but Wei Wuxian snaps, No! Not him. Never him. 

She’s confused but settles again, alert and listening.

”Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan says. ”Come back to Gusu with me.”

He sighs and finally turns around. Lan Zhan’s grip burns through his robes. ”No,” he says, calm and measured.

”Please,” Lan Zhan whispers. 

”I said no,” Wei Wuxian says and gives a pointed look at the alpha’s hand still gripping his arm. ”Let me go, Hanguang-jun.”

Lan Zhan jerks and lets go of him like Wei Wuxian is the one burning him. He doesn’t say anything and Wei Wuxian doesn’t know what to say, so he says nothing and turns to leave—and sees Jiang Cheng storming across the yard.

He feels Chenqing vibrate on his side and placates her with a small brush of fingers. Don’t interfere unless I ask you to. He might not see me as his brother but he’ll be my brother till the end of everything. What he receives from her can only be described as pouting. Imagine that: a spiritual weapon having a temper tantrum. In some other place and time, Wei Wuxian would’ve laughed himself to tears but in this place right now, he merely watches Jiang Cheng stomp to him.

”Wei Wuxian!” Jiang Cheng snarls. ”What the fuck?”

”Eloquent, as always, Jiang Cheng,” he answers. ”Care to be more specific? I’m not sure which fuck you mean.”

”This whole farce!” Jiang Cheng spreads his hands wide, motioning at everything around them. 

”Mn. I agree,” Wei Wuxian says and purses his lips. ”This place is way too opulent. Tacky. Are you sure you want your sister to marry out?”

Jiang Cheng scowls. ”What do you mean, my sister? She’s your sister as well.”

Wei Wuxian taps a finger against his cheek. ”The last time we spoke, you threw me out of Lotus Pier, Sect Leader Jiang,” he says and raises a brow. ”Or have you forgotten?”

”Oh, I remember perfectly. I remember Mother dragging me to a boat and tying me up with Zidian and then meeting Father who just put A-Li into the boat with me and sent us away and when we finally made it back home, they were both dead and where were you?!” His voice rises to a shout in the end.

”I was where I was supposed to be.”

Jiang Cheng snorts. ”Right. Were you already colluding with the Wen back then? While standing in the midst of the Yunmeng Jiang dead?”

Wei Wuxian is suddenly bone-deep tired. He wishes he could just yell at Jiang Cheng and that they could wrestle this away like they’d done earlier in their lives but he can’t. He can’t show how much he hates this all, how much he misses home and everything, he can’t slip up because there’s too much at stake. So, instead of answering, he bows and leaves.

”Don’t you fucking dare walk away from me,” Jiang Cheng growls, lets out a sharp whistle, and lunges.

Even before the whistle dies away, two lean, white dogs charge into the yard, and Wei Wuxian is suddenly fervently, desperately glad Madam Yu made him practice with a dog present. Nevertheless, his panicked yelp, HELP! gets Chenqing’s attention and she surges to confront the dogs while Wei Wuxian parries Zidian’s strike before Lan Zhan has even drawn Bichen to jump to his defense. 

Drawing both resentful energy and channeling his own spiritual energy feels effortless after doing it so long with Wen Ruohan and now, he doesn’t even have to be subtle. Jiang Cheng might be an alpha wielding Zidian but as formidable as he is, he’s no match to Wei Wuxian. 

He never has been. 

With the dogs bound in a net of resentful energy, Wei Wuxian directs it to Jiang Cheng, coils it around him, and forces him to draw Zidian back.

”I believe I’ll go wherever the fuck I want,” Wei Wuxian says with a small smile and red eyes. ”Now, behave so that I don’t have to knock you out.” Slowly, he draws back both the resentment and his glowing red eyes. ”Was that all?” He asks.

Jiang Cheng’s lip curls up. ”Demonic cultivation,” he sneers. ”You truly have changed, Wei Wuxian. Are you the Wen’s favorite pet now?”

”More like the only pet,” Wei Wuxian quips.

Jiang Cheng snorts and then his eyes wide, incredulous. ”You’re not fucking joking, are you,” he states. His eyes dart up and narrow. ”Where did you get that headpiece?”

”This silly thing?” Wei Wuxian asks, all nonchalance as he releases the resentful energy from around his brother. ”Wen Ruohan gave it to me.” From the corner of his eye, he sees Lan Zhan sway like he’s about to faint which, considering how haggard he looks, probably isn’t too far off.

”If we’re done here,” Wei Wuxian says and bows. ”Sect Leader Jiang, Hanguang-jun,” he says and then turns around and walks away. 

He doesn’t flinch as he walks past the dogs, still tied in the net of black tendrils.

Waiting for the sect leaders to deliberate makes Wei Wuxian anxious, the nervous energy bubbling just under his skin, forcing him to direct it somewhere. He starts going through one of Madam Yu’s exercises which push him just enough for him to concentrate on his forms, leaving his mind blissfully empty. When he’s done, he sits with the full intention to meditate but Chenqing’s curiosity doesn’t let him.

What? Wei Wuxian finally snaps.

—curiosity—contemplation—patience—

Uh. It’s fine. I don’t want to think about it.

What she sends back is so full of skepticism he can feel his own eyes roll. Chenqing sends him an image of Lan Zhan and then of Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian can feel it in his bones that she won’t let go until he explains himself.

Fine, he grumbles internally. For a moment, he’s genuinely unsure how to tell her but eventually, he shrugs and decides to just go for it. No point in trying to overthink, she practically shares his mind already anyway.

He starts with Jiang Cheng because even though their relationship is frayed and twisted, it’s still more straightforward compared to whatever that’s in between him and Lan Zhan. He starts with his first memories in Lotus Pier, his wonderment of how everything was light and pretty and there was so much food. He follows with their training through the years, the way Jiang Cheng’s laughter sounded after he’d chased Wei Wuxian down the pier and pushed him into the water, the way he held Jiang Cheng’s hair back from his face the first time they got roaring drunk and his shidi ended up puking his guts out. Then there were the long hours of studying cultivation theory and the history of Lotus Pier, their first night-hunts, them scuffling in the boat while fishing, them stealing lotus pods. 

Thoughts about Jiang Cheng turn to Jiang Yanli and even though it hurts, he doesn’t try holding back. He pours out all the love he feels for shijie, her smile, her laughter, her gentle reprimands, all the ways she’s been there for him, the ways she’s believed in him even when he didn’t believe in himself.

And then, how they slowly drifted away from each other after Wei Wuxian got kicked out of Gusu and started roaming around as a rogue cultivator.

The destruction of Lotus Pier.

The deaths of Jiang-shushu and Madam Yu.

Jiang Yanli’s quiet grief, Jiang Cheng’s pain, and how the only direction he knew where to aim it was—has always been—at Wei Wuxian.

Is this enough?

Chenqing is silent for a moment and then she shows the picture of Lan Zhan.

Fuck.

Do we really have to do this? When all he gets back is another flash of Lan Zhan, Wei Wuxian groans aloud and flops onto his back on the floor. You’re annoying, you know?

He really, really isn’t that keen on trying to dissect the messy bundle of emotions he has for Lan Zhan. Lust, yes, because it’s Lan Zhan, who wouldn’t lust after him? But it’s not just his gorgeous looks or his impeccable manners or the way he talks. It’s his everything. He starts sharing events, short moments of his life he shared with Lan Zhan, the way he felt—still feels—around the alpha. How he wants to push and prod and poke and shatter the seemingly unbreakable walls Lan Zhan has erected around himself, he wants to see Lan Zhan and be seen in return, he wants to hold out his hand and have it held back, he wants, he wants, wants so many things.

The scent of sandalwood and crisp winter air. How Lan Zhan’s eyes burn when Wei Wuxian says something shameless. How his lips felt against Wei Wuxian’s, how firm and broad his chest was and how safe Wei Wuxian felt pressed against that chest. He wants and it’s not his to have.

Because tangled in the mess are the times he violated Lan Zhan; triggered his rut because he was poking him too much, clouded his judgment with his heat scent and tricked Lan Zhan to kiss him, reached into his mind and knocked him out in the cave…and let Lan Zhan believe he’s dead.

—confusion—compassion—Cloud Recesses—

I can’t go to Gusu with him, Wei Wuxian points out. First, Teacher Lan hates my guts. Second, we still have our mission to finish. We have to kill Wen Ruohan because letting him live isn’t an option. And by the time we’re done, Cloud Recesses will no longer be a place for someone like me. 

He can feel Chenqing’s doubt in his bones but he ignores her. Thinking about Jiang Cheng, Jiang Yanli, and the happy memories of their childhood tend to make him morose and with Lan Zhan added to the mix, he gets downright melancholy. To his ultimate horror, he can feel prickling under his eyelids and he will not cry about this. He’s here to deliver a message and he has no time or patience for tears. Besides, there’s nothing to cry about. 

Not anymore.

With an annoyed growl, he pushes himself up, activates a couple of privacy talismans, and rummages his qiankun pouch for his journal. If he can’t calm the fuck down, at least he should direct all this jittery energy to something actually useful. He has his compass yet to finish and he’s been playing with a net design of spiritual energy as well as a handful of everyday talismans—the kind cultivators wouldn’t really bat an eye upon seeing but that could make a real difference in the lives of the common folks. Fortunately, tinkering and inventing has always been one of his great loves and he loses himself into the familiar fugue in no time and surfaces to insistent knocking. It sounds like they’ve been at it for some time already.

Holding Chenqing, he walks to the door and opens it.

”You took your time, Wei-xiong,” Nie Huaisang grumbles, shoving past him. ”Close the door.”

”Young Master Nie,” Wei Wuxian says and inclines his head. 

Nie Huaisang rolls his eyes. ”Stop that. I come bearing gifts.” He raises his hand and holds up four bottles of Emperor’s Smile. 

”Well, in that case,” Wei Wuxian says brightly and beckons Nie Huaisang to sit as he activates another talisman to ward off prying eyes and ears.

They share a couple of drinks in companionable silence and then Nie Huaisang taps his ubiquitous fan against his lips. ”So,” he says.

”So,” Wei Wuxian echoes and pours himself another drink.

”Is he completely insane already?” Nie Huaisang, genuinely curious.

Wei Wuxian purses his lips. ”I don’t think so. His golden core is definitely eroding because of the frankly ridiculous amounts of resentful energy he wields but insane? I don’t think so.”

”You don’t think or you don’t know?”

Wei Wuxian thinks for a moment. ”No, I don’t think he is. He’s paranoid and sadistic and has delusions of grandeur but he still has these moments of clarity and he’s able to argue his opinions if needed.” He pauses and adds, dryly, ”Although his method of arguing is usually just to turn the ones who disagree with him into puppets.”

Nie Huaisang watches him with bright, calculating eyes. ”And you?”

”Insane? Not counting the decision to infiltrate the Wen, no. As for problems with my golden core…With a bit of help, I’m holding up for now.”

”Ah,” Nie Huaisang says and nods. ”Your dizi.”

And how the fuck could you possibly know that? Wei Wuxian thinks, bewildered. He feels Chenqing’s presence, alert and at the ready, and hurries to placate her. Nie Huaisang is one of those never-ever people, okay? Just listen, for now.

Something in Nie Huaisang’s eyes turns curious but he doesn’t ask. Instead, he says, ”They’ll vote no.”

”I know.”

”Except for Jin Guangshan.”

A slow smile spreads on Wei Wuxian’s lips. ”I presume you’ll handle him?”

”Me personally? Oh no, no.” Nie Huaisang shivers and fans himself. ”I can’t stand blood. But I have…arrangements in place.”

Wei Wuxian chuckles quietly. ”Of course you do,” he says, amused. ”By the way, does Nie Mingjue know what you’re doing?”

Nie Huaisang’s expression turns bashful. ”Da-ge knows I’m…how to put it…maintaining a support network for and of omegas?” 

The innocent look in his eyes makes Wei Wuxian laugh out loud and Nie Huaisang grins as a reply. ”You truly are one of a kind,” Wei Wuxian says and shakes his head as he pours himself another drink.

”Whoever said that?”

Wei Wuxian sighs and sobers. ”Yu-furen.”

”Ah.”

They drink to the memory of those who are gone and when Nie Huaisang sets his cup on the table, he looks serious. ”When it happens, it has to be public,” he says.

”I know.”

”And the Tally?”

Wei Wuxian smirks. ”As you said, I have arrangements in place.” He doesn’t miss how Nie Huaisang’s gaze flits to Chenqing and back to his face. ”There are some people I want to be handled with respect,” he adds. ”Can you do that?”

Nie Huaisang nods. ”Of course,” he says and then sighs. ”I can’t give you a specific timeframe yet,” he says, ”but all troops will head to Nightless City sooner or later.”

”I can work with that.”

They fall silent for a moment and then Nie Huaisang lets out a long breath and says, ”Well! I think that was everything. Do take care, Wei-xiong.”

Wei Wuxian smiles and bows. ”You too, Huaisang.”

They vote no well before the deadline.

Wen Chao throws a fit and Wei Wuxian has to step in to prevent bloodshed. He taps Wen Chao on the shoulder once and when the alpha growls as he whirls around and barks, ”What,” Wei Wuxian smiles and tilts his head.

Wen Chao’s face goes white and he flinches. ”My apologies, Honored Master Wei,” he hurries to say. ”My frustration got the better of me.”

”Completely understandable,” Wei Wuxian says cheerily. ”Now, hush.”

He ignores the incredulous looks this little power play earned him and faces the room, hands behind his back, head cocked. ”I will relay your answer to Emperor Wen,” he says calmly. His gaze sweeps over the assembled sect leaders, takes in the dark look on Jiang Cheng’s face and suspicion on Nie Mingjue’s, Jin Guangshan’s calculated carelessness, and the strange mix of sorrow and disappointment in Lan Xichen’s eyes. Lan Zhan isn’t present, and in his place sits a young, delicate-looking man. A mate? Huh. Wei Wuxian hadn’t known Lan Xichen was mated.

He isn’t sure what compels him to do it but he reaches out with his scent, a delicate barely-there tendril, and pokes the man. He stays completely still except for the way he blinks rapidly several times—and then he slowly turns his head and looks at Wei Wuxian.

Interesting.

Before he has a chance to ponder it further, Nie Mingjue snaps, ”So, what happens next?”

”Next?” Wei Wuxian asks. ”Next, there will be blood.” He says it calmly but lets his eyes bleed slightly red. 

”So, you’re threatening us now?” Jiang Cheng spits out. 

Wei Wuxian sighs and turns to look at him. ”I’m not threatening to do anything. I’m merely stating a fact,” he says. ”This isn’t my choice, it’s yours.”

Jiang Cheng’s face is red with anger but Nie Huaisang leans over from his seat and whispers something to him, placating him and keeping him in place. 

That’s also interesting, Wei Wuxian muses. 

”If there’s nothing else…?” He says with a raised brow. The hall is quiet. ”Well then,” he says and bows low before turning and walking out. Wen Chao follows behind him, silent.

They don’t talk on their way back. Wen Chao rides next to Wei Wuxian’s carriage and sets his tent when they stop, otherwise he does his best to ignore him. 

Wei Wuxian is more than fine with it. He has too much in his mind anyway: as soon as he stepped into the carriage, he felt something was off. It took him only a moment to locate the letter hidden under a camouflaging talisman that reacted only to him. He read it, nodded, and didn’t blink as the note burst into flames and turned into ash in his hand.

He stares out of the window of the cart and rubs his fingers together, still feeling the flakes of ash even though they’re long gone.

Wen Ruohan declares war which surprises absolutely no one. 

Wei Wuxian gets swept into war council meetings even though he’s pretty sure no one wants him to be there. Well, no one except Wen Ruohan and since his word is the only thing that matters, Wei Wuxian is now one of the group. The old alpha generals don’t dare to show their disdain in Wen Ruohan’s presence, but when the Sect Leader turns his back, the sneers are out. Wei Wuxian finds himself deeply, profoundly unable to give a fuck. 

The meetings aren’t even that interesting. They always follow the same pattern: starting with the pompous posturing, praises, and flattery, then moving on to reviewing the messages from the field, debating where to send more (or any) troops, and if there should be some changes in the chain of command. The last part is always more or less Wen Chao begging his father to let him command either Jiangling or Chongyang fronts—or both because Wen Xu commands both Hejian and Yangquan fronts and Wen Chao doesn’t want to stay in his brother’s shadow. It’s rather embarrassing for everyone present and when Wen Ruohan finally relents, Wei Wuxian is pretty sure it’s just to shut Wen Chao up. 

The Wen are waging war on five fronts which doesn’t seem to bother anyone. There are two fronts next to Qinghe and Yunmeng, respectively, which makes perfect sense: Nie Mingjue is perhaps the biggest threat and Yunmeng cost the Wen a supervisory office, Wen Chao’s mistress, and the Core-Melting Hand. Gusu was burned to the ground which probably makes the Wen believe they don’t have to worry about that. It is, of course, a massive error because to dismiss the Lan Sect is to court death.

But then there’s the Langya front, the only front near Lanling and not even a very strong one.

Wei Wuxian wonders if it’s as glaringly obvious to the other clans as it is to him, just how confident Wen Ruohan is with Jin Guangshan’s support.

Apart from the war council meetings, things don’t seem that different. Wei Wuxian’s daily schedule stays the same, only his morning meditation slot is now occupied by the war council. He still gets up at an obscene hour, practices with Chenqing, and meets up with Wen Ruohan at some point before dinner. Wen Ruohan keeps experimenting with the Tally and Wei Wuxian keeps playing to him while gently prodding the Tally with Chenqing. They slowly let themselves get more and more familiar with the resentful energy the Tally has gathered and at times it feels like he’s pulsing at the same rhythm as the demonic tool. Or perhaps it’s pulsing in tune with his heartbeat? It’s hard to say. 

Each evening, Wei Wuxian does his purification ritual, mentally taking stock of how his body feels and how, day by day, it gets increasingly more challenging to pull all resentful energy from around his core. The more time he spends with Wen Ruohan and the Tiger Tally and the more attuned he is to resentful energy, the deeper it sinks into his being. Extracting the sticky, small flakes of resentment makes him nauseous and leaves his mind dizzy but he knows this is what he has to do.

He resolutely doesn’t think about Lan Zhan’s warnings.

Two weeks after Wen Chao departed toward Yunmeng, a lone bloody Wen soldier returns. He limps up the grand stairs and through the gate, carrying a stained burlap bag. Wei Wuxian spots him on his way to the war council, takes a look at his pale face and eyes dulled with death, and drags him along with him. Once there, the soldier falls on his knees in front of Wen Ruohan and holds out the bag.

Wen Ruohan takes it, opens it, and drops it on the floor. It lands with a wet, dull sound and Wen Chao’s head rolls out.

”What is the meaning of this?” One general barks, his beard quivering with outrage. 

Moron, Wei Wuxian thinks. Isn’t it obvious? This is Yunmeng Jiang saying hello and fuck off. 

”Explain,” Wen Ruohan says in a low, dangerous tone, the one that makes even Wei Wuxian stand up and pay attention.

”We—the battle—” the soldier stammers. ”We lost.”

Wen Ruohan cocks his head. ”Then why are you here?”

The soldier swallows. ”Sect Leader Jiang said one must be kept alive to-to-to deliver Young Master Wen’s…head.”

”Well. You are here. I guess you don’t need to be alive anymore,” Wen Ruohan growls, grabs the soldier, and presses his palms against his temples. The soldier doesn’t even dare to scream as his skull cracks and caves in. As his body hits the floor, it makes the same dull, wet sound as Wen Chao’s head. Wei Wuxian averts his eyes to avoid looking as the body twitches for several minutes before going still.

”So, Yunmeng is lost,” the general with a permanent twitch in his eye says, stating the obvious. ”If we act immediately, we could surprise them and take it back. I’ll send word to—”

”No,” Wen Ruohan says, wiping his hands to a wet towel a servant handed him. (In Wei Wuxian’s mind, having a servant ready and waiting to hand out warm, wet towels to clean one’s hands from blood and other substances is disturbing.) ”We will not send out more troops.”

”My lord?” The quivering beard asks, incredulous.

”We will not send out troops to any front. Let them come here. Let them march into Nightless City and think they can beat me. Let them come and face their doom!” His voice turns to a furious snarl and with his eyes gleaming with anticipation, he looks just the monster Wei Wuxian has heard him described as. 

”My lord,” the twitchy-eye says carefully. ”What about our troops on other fields? What about your son—”

”My son knows what he’s doing,” Wen Ruohan says coldly. ”And if they are to die, they will die for the glory of Qishan Wen and will ascend with me when the time is right.”

…Wow. He’s really lost it, hasn’t he? Wei Wuxian muses. If the looks in the generals’ eyes are anything to go by, he isn’t alone with his thoughts.

So, they send no additional troops to Yunmeng. Instead, they stay put and wait.

A week later, another soldier arrives, now carrying Wen Xu’s head. 

He faces the same treatment as the soldier carrying Wen Chao’s head.

They send no additional troops to Qinghe.

Wen Ruohan’s megalomania dictates everything they do or, like in this case, don’t do. The generals try to argue and point out that it would be just common sense to seal up Nightless City and place troops to defend the palace but Wen Ruohan says no.

”Let them come!” He exclaims. ”Let them march in and spread out on the courtyard, let them believe that eliminating my sons and pushing back my troops means they’ve won. Let them enter and face their doom!”

Wei Wuxian stifles a sigh. It’s not that he’s unable to do anything, it’s more about how he’s still trying to keep a relatively low profile. If he started manipulating Wen Ruohan now, he’d compromise himself and, by extension Wen Qing and Wen Ning. He just hopes Wen Ruohan would agree to at least minimum precautions like allowing common people to bar their doors and windows. It wouldn’t help them against a full-frontal assault but it would be better than nothing. 

He’s quite sure the other clans won’t kill civilians on sight. Hopefully.

”You know I can’t leave,” Wen Qing reminds him over their weekly tea. ”First, I’m a doctor. My duty is to stay here and tend to the injured. Second, I’m a branch family leader, there’s no way Wen Ruohan will let me leave.”

”But what about Wen Ning?” Wei Wuxian asks.

”A-Ning is my assistant,” Wen Qing says calmly. ”He’s been training to become a doctor under my supervision for years now. He will be on the battlefield but he’ll be with me.” She huffs and shakes her head. ”I appreciate your concern, Young Master Wei. Thank you. But as long as Wen Ruohan’s rule holds, I won’t be leaving Nightless City.”

Wei Wuxian cocks his head at her choice of words but doesn’t push. ”Could you at least warn people to stay away from the streets?” He asks instead. 

”I have told people who will tell people who will tell people,” she says with finality. ”Was there anything else?”

He ducks his head with a wry smile. ”No, I think that was all.”

”In that case, I’ll continue my work.” It’s a clear dismissal and Wei Wuxian stands up, bows, and turns to leave. He makes it to the door when he hears her sigh. ”Wei Wuxian,” she says quietly, ”Is there anything I should know?”

He stops and looks at her from over his shoulder. ”Why would there be?” He asks. Besides, it’s not like you could do anything anyway.

She gives him a look that reminds him of shijie. Must be the big sister in her, he muses.

He shoots her a grin and leaves her office, not quite knowing how he should feel.

It’s early morning and Wei Wuxian stands on the balcony overlooking the massive stairs. The air shimmers on the horizon, making it look like someone poured oil on a glass panel. On the training yard, several groups of soldiers go through their morning drills with varying success. Their forms are clumsy and their lunges lack vigor but considering Wen Ruohan has already sent his best to die, this is what they’ll have to do with. Wei Wuxian catches himself thinking how impossibly young they seem and then he snorts, reminding himself that he’s barely older than them.

They’re going to be slaughtered. And there’s nothing Wei Wuxian can do to change it.

A dark shape hovers high above the stairs, flying twice in a wide circle before it starts to glide to Wei Wuxian. He shields his eyes from the sun and waits, reaching out with Chenqing to greet the Dire Owl. It’s faster than a normal owl could ever be and its call is more akin to dry hiss and buzz than a hoot. It flies straight to Wei Wuxian and lands on his outstretched forearm and makes a satisfied, gurgling sound as Wei Wuxian strokes it back (Form? Outline?) with his own resentful energy. 

”Talk to me,” he says, lifting his hand up a bit to look it in the eye—or where the eyes would be if the Dire Owl wasn’t made of a swirling cloud of resentment.

The Dire Owl hops closer and rubs its beak on Wei Wuxian’s cheek and shows him an image of white, golden, purple, and grey-green troops at the base of the stairs. They’re first more like colorful blobs on the ground but as the Dire Owl dives down, the image sharpens and grows bigger so fast Wei Wuxian almost feels dizzy. He sees Lan Xichen and Lan Zhan, no surprise there, and leading their own troops are Jiang Cheng and Nie Mingjue. He raises a brow when he sees Madam Jin the front of the Jin army with Jin Zixuan. Apparently, whatever Nie Huaisang had had in store for Jin Guangshan had worked. Good.

”Was that all?” Wei Wuxian murmurs and gently pets the Dire Owl’s head. It hisses and presses closer to him. ”It wasn’t a reprimand,” he says, amused. ”It was just a question.” He taps the Dire Owl’s neck once and says, ”You did well. Thank you. You can go now.”

With a final gurgle, the Dire Owl takes to the sky and slowly dissipates into a cloud of dark energy, picked up by winds that scatter it.

Wei Wuxian has no clue why the Dire Owl reacts to him as it does. By all accounts, it’s an extension of Wen Ruohan’s will because he molded the Dire Owl from a mass of swirling resentment, breathed a modicum of life in it and has, so far, been connected to it on a visceral level. But the creature also has a will of its own and, for some reason, it seeks Wei Wuxian out, to share what it sees and to perch on his shoulder. If he didn’t dismiss it, it would happily sit on him wherever he goes. The image appeals to him more than he’s willing to admit.

Oh, well.

He shakes his head, returning to here and now, and turns to continue his morning walk. He probably should make his way back to the Palace and report to Wen Ruohan, even though he already knows what the alpha will say to the information of the allied clans’ army approaching Nightless City.

He snorts.

”Master Wei?” A guard says, hesitant, not quite meeting his eye.

He’s one of the young alphas that have been following him everywhere recently after an unfortunate incident some weeks back. A newly promoted alpha had grabbed Wei Wuxian outside the Palace and started questioning him—a rather idiotic move, if Wei Wuxian says so himself. He has no fucking clue how he hadn’t known who the only omega allowed free passage anywhere in the Palace premises was, apparently, just him being an omega was all he needed to act like a knothead. He’d even asked the guard (nicely!) if he was sure he wanted to do what he was doing to which the guard had snorted and leered. 

His leer had been short-lived after a thick cord of resentful energy wrapped around his neck and snapped it like a twig. Wei Wuxian had looked up to see Wen Ruohan standing a short distance away looking coldly furious. He hadn’t said anything, he’d just inclined his head at the bewildered Wei Wuxian before turning and returning back to the Palace.

No one gave him grief after that. Funny thing, that.

”Aiyah, it’s nothing,” Wei Wuxian says. ”Just thinking.” They’re finally here. And there’s so much death to come… The residual resentful energy that’s clinging to his core dances at the thought.

”Of course, Master Wei,” the guard says and bows.

Neither of them talks as they walk back to the Palace.

The allied clans attack before sunrise, fast, determined, and terrifying. Wei Wuxian can’t help but feel bad for the young Wen soldiers who never stood a chance, not against the sect leaders raining fury on them. It’s still better than what’s in store for them.

Wei Wuxian waits inside the Palace of the Sun and Flames with Wen Ruohan. The alpha is restless, pacing back and forth with the Tally nearly vibrating in his hand, muttering under his breath. Every now and then, he stops and turns sharply to stare through the open door with red, gleaming eyes, listening to how the mass of cultivators crashes into the main courtyard like a tidal wave.

After what feels like an eternity, the massive gates of Nightless City slam down, sealing the clans inside with Wen Ruohan and his dark creations. 

”Finally!” Wen Ruohan growls and raises the hand holding the Tiger Tally. 

Immediately, dark tendrils surge out of the Tally, rushing out of the hall. The screaming starts soon after. Smiling widely and eyes alight with cruelty, Wen Ruohan looks at Wei Wuxian and beckons him to follow. Together, they walk out and stop at the top of the stairs to behold the carnage below as the Tally keeps pouring out massive amounts of resentful energy. The courtyard is filled with black smoke and the cultivators are bright blobs of color in the midst of swirling darkness.

”Behold the might of Qishan Wen!” Wen Ruohan bellows and raises the Tally higher.

Wei Wuxian feels it come alive inside of him. The resentful energy he’s been manipulating has left tendrils of itself behind, the specks he hasn’t been able to purge from around his core. And now, the Tally is calling out to him, calling out to Chenqing. The need is a burning ache in his bones and a cloying taste in the back of his mouth, making him want to gag and breathe it in simultaneously. He’s trembling and on his belt, Chenqing is vibrating but he fights it, fights the compulsion and call. He can’t give in, not yet, not when the sect leaders are too far.

They need to be closer. 

They need to bear witness.

They also need to stay alive and he knows that the moment Wen Ruohan’s first puppet emerges, he’s out of time. 

”Wei Ying!”

Lan Zhan’s cry cuts through the melee and for a split second, everyone’s attention is on him.

And then an inhuman roar echoes through the battlefield and the Wen soldier Nie Mingjue cut down starts writhing. Nie Mingjue steps back, horrified, as the corpse’s skin first turns black and then cracks open like pottery, and then it rises from the ground, stronger, resilient, undead-but-not.

Then another fallen soldier—this time in the Yunmeng Jiang robes—roars, transforms, and turns against his former brothers.

And Wei Wuxian is out of time.

”Wei Ying!” Lan Zhan cries again but Wei Wuxian is already moving. He’s only a half-step behind Wen Ruohan and the alpha pays him no mind, giddy with power, resentful energy so thick around them it feels hard to breathe. He doesn’t let himself think, pivots as fast as lightning, grabs Suibian from his sleeve. The glare cuts through the darkness and Suibian sings as Wei Wuxian’s momentum flies it forward. He adds a burst of his spiritual energy and feels Chenqing add her resentment and the combined power slices through skin, tendon, and bone. Wen Ruohan never sees his death coming and as his head bounces down the stairs, his face wears a slightly confused look. His body stays upright for a moment before it starts slowly to keel over.

The Tiger Tally hovers in the air as Wen Ruohan falls, pulsing with resentful energy. Wei Wuxian doesn’t give himself time to think: he reaches out and the Tally flies to his hand. The pain is excruciating and immediate. The Tally is brimming with resentment and it carries the weight of everyone it has bent under its will and it hurts it hurts it hurts so much. Wei Wuxian gasps as he struggles to control it, unseeing, unfeeling, unhearing of anything else but the burn in his hand and the screams of all the condemned, tortured souls the Wen Ruohan has ever killed.

But Chenqing is there: she flares, surges to answer his agony, and together, they start to slowly, carefully calm the Tally down. Wei Wuxian weaves his spiritual energy in a net around them both while Chenqing cajoles the Tally’s murderous intent into something more manageable. It responds sluggishly, more familiar with Wen Ruohan’s brutal strength and the sheer amount of raw power he’s fed it and it’s distrustful of Wei Wuxian and Chenqing. But it settles. It grumbles and fights and pushes back but gradually, it gives up. 

Wei Wuxian lets out a careful breath and opens his eyes. With the Tally’s surrender, the puppets that had frozen when Wei Wuxian grabbed the Tally, are set free of its control and they crumble down in heaps of black, charred remains and dark smoke. It feels like he fought the Tally for a full day but he knows it probably was more like minutes. He sucks in a mouthful of air and it rattles in his chest like it doesn’t know where to go. His head is pounding and his legs shake and, oh, his nose is bleeding.

The Tally is in his hand, gripped into his fist so hard the edges cut to the soft flesh of his palm. He welcomes the pain, it keeps him alert, doesn’t let him forget what he’s holding. On his hip, Chenqing hums a low sound, sounding satisfied. 

On the courtyard in front of him, the surviving cultivators stand, surrounded by bodies, bewildered by the turn of events.

”Wei Wuxian!” Jiang Cheng yells as he steps forward. ”What the fuck?”

It sounds so familiar, so much like home that Wei Wuxian can’t help but chuckle—and then he promptly coughs up blood. 

Oh. So that’s what rattled in his chest. Okay.

”Hello, Sect Leader Jiang,” he says hoarsely and doesn’t bow because he’d probably fall on his face and that would be embarrassing. ”Fancy seeing you here.”

Jiang Cheng scowls and opens his mouth but Wei Wuxian doesn’t let him speak.

”Sect Leader Nie,” he says and inclines his head. ”Sect Leader Jin, Young Master Jin.” 

A pause. ”Zewu-jun.” 

A pause. 

And finally, ”Lan Zhan.”

Lan Zhan’s eyes are wide, full of anguish. Wei Wuxian doesn’t want to look at him so he looks at Nie Mingjue instead, tilts his head slightly, and says, ”Sunshot Campaign is over.”

”Why?” Nie Mingjue snaps. ”Because you say so? Because you have that demonic tool?”

Wei Wuxian smiles and shakes his head. ”No. It ends because there’s nothing to fight about. Wen Ruohan is dead. His sons are dead but, unlike former Sect Leader Jin, he didn’t leave behind a horde of illegitimate offspring. Wen Ruohan’s line is as dead as his headless corpse on the ground.”

”But didn’t you just take his place?” Madam Jin asks. Her eyes are sharp and she has a familiar, commanding air around her—no wonder Madam Yu and her used to be friends. 

”Only long enough to subdue it and release the puppets. Which, by the way, will need a proper sending-off. I’m sure the Lan can handle that, right?” Wei Wuxian turns his head and gives Lan Xichen a pointed look.

”Ah, yes,” Lan Xichen says with a faint smile. ”And what happens after that?”

Wei Wuxian shrugs. ”No idea. That’s really not any of my business.”

”Wei Ying.” 

Lan Zhan’s voice is low and urgent but Wei Wuxian flashes the alpha a bright smile before he turns to address Jiang Cheng and Nie Mingjue. ”There are a couple of people in this keep to whom I’ve promised a safe passage. They carry Yunmeng Jiang lotuses on their belts.”

”You had no fucking right to do that!” Jiang Cheng spits. 

”But I did it anyway,” Wei Wuxian says. ”Wen Qing and Wen Qionglin are from the Dafan Wen branch. They have dedicated their lives to medicine and had nothing to do with war.” He lets his eyes bleed red. ”They are not to be harmed.”

Jiang Cheng sputters but Lan Xichen placates him with a hand on his shoulder. 

”What about you?” Lan Xichen asks. ”And the Tally?”

Wei Wuxian blinks slowly. His head is fuzzy and there are black dots dancing in his field of vision. Fuck. He needs to get this over with. ”What about me or the Tally?”

”You are handing it over, aren’t you?” Lan Xichen’s voice is mild and pleasant like he’s talking about something trivial, commonplace.

Wei Wuxian can’t help it. He laughs, almost hysteric, and ends up coughing up more blood. ”No,” he says and smiles. He knows that with his red eyes, his blood-spattered lips are a horrible sight.

Lan Zhan lets out an anguished sound and steps forward. ”Wei Ying, come back to Gusu with us,” he pleads. ”Please.”

He sighs, suddenly tired. ”No.” Gusu isn’t a place for him. Not anymore. Not with what he’s about to—

”Wei Wuxian!” Wen Qing yells from behind him. Nie soldiers—who somehow have made it to surround Wei Wuxian, oops?—try to grab at her but she’s terrifying and formidable and forces her way past them. Wen Ning, who is adorable and kind, stays behind.

”Wei Wuxian, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Wen Qing snaps, completely ignoring everyone else around them. 

He turns to look at Jiang Cheng. ”She’s Wen Qing,” he says and then turns back to face her, swaying where he stands. ”I’m doing what I have to.”

Wen Qing shakes her head. ”No, you don’t!—”

”What the fuck are you planning?” Jiang Cheng barks. 

Wen Qing is behind him and Jiang Cheng is marching up the stairs and Lan Zhan is right behind him and it’s unacceptable, they can’t, they must stay safe— Wei Wuxian shoves at them all, and even though he’s so tired already, he still manages to topple them over. ”Don’t come near me,” he says and coughs up more blood. ”I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

”Wei Ying—”

”What the fuck—”

”Wei Wuxian, please reconsider—”

”Huaisang didn’t warn me about this—”

Wei Wuxian takes a breath, concentrates, and draws the Golden Thread Formation around himself, ignoring the yelling around him. He opens his palm and releases his hold on the Tiger Tally and it hovers in front of him, its pulsing energy visible around it. He picks up Chenqing and turns slightly to face Wen Qing.

”Burn my journals,” he says, ignoring the tears in her eyes. ”Thank you. And I’m sorry.”

And then, he starts to play. 

He starts with the same melody he used when they manipulated Wen Ruohan. It’s familiar and soothes the Tally which is exactly what they need. This time, they can concentrate all their efforts on the Tally because there’s no paranoid alpha to fool. So, he plays, soothing and comforting, pouring out his spiritual power and drawing up resentment, letting them dance around them in the closed space inside the Golden Thread Formation. He modulates from the familiar melody to a song he used to hum when he was a child, and then to a lullaby he remembers from that one, bright memory he has from his parents.

He lulls the Tally into a daze before he nudges Chenqing. Your turn, he says. Thank you for everything.

Chenqing brushes him back, lets him know how proud she is of him before she reaches out. She worms close to the Tally with threadbare tendrils of resentful energy, curls around it like a lover and it lets her because she made it, she’s a part of it. There’s no need for it to be afraid. 

Not until it’s too late.

Chenqing knows what she’s doing. She finds that one, particular thread of resentful energy and pulls, and the Tally’s structure starts to rapidly unravel. It tries to hold itself together but it can’t, it never could. The seam that held the two pieces together was made by Chenqing and Wei Wuxian, and the failsafe they left behind acts exactly as it was meant to. The Tally breaks into two and there’s nothing it can do to stop it.

But it can try to take the whole Nightless City with it.

If it was anyone else but Wei Wuxian and Chenqing, it would’ve succeeded.

Wei Wuxian drops Chenqing and grabs the Tally with both hands and presses the halves together, keeping the backslash at bay. He grits his teeth and tightens the Golden Thread Formation, draws more from his core and wraps more threads into it, bundles it around him and the Tally like a cocoon. And inside, he weaves his scent, his mental shield around the unraveling Tally, inverting the explosion Madam Yu had taught him what seems like a lifetime ago.

And then, he opens his hands.

The backslash tears through his mind and body, burning everything in its wake, leaving behind only charred remains and twitching nerves but that’s nothing. Because the pent-up resentful energy stored in the Tally turns to Wei Wuxian, pours inside of him and attacks his core, shredding it with needle-sharp claws that burn and burn and burn, and the fire travels along his meridians and his veins and he screams—

(Wei Ying! No! Not again!)

—and there are a thousand suns bursting through his eyes and the liquid fire traveling inside him fights to get out and he bleeds, it bleeds, he’s crying fire and throwing up molten rock—

(Wangji, don’t, you’ll die too!)

—all he can see is white that burns—

(For fuck’s sake, let me go you idiots, I’m trying to save his life!)

—he’s flying, flying, flying, he’s fire and stars and the sun he’s—

…he’s nothing.

—pain—

—hot—

—tearing, ripping—

”—Wangji!”

”—don’t go near—”

”—I need to—”

”—out, out, out!—”

—growling—

—it hurts—

”—Wuxian—”

”A-Huan, leave—”

”—feral—”

—the softest blanket—

—peace—

Rest.

He struggles his way back to consciousness through a thick, syrupy sea of pain. Moving is impossible and even thinking hurts so much he can’t bite back a faint whimper. The sound itself is almost enough to make him pass out again.

His mattress gasps and moves and it prompts another bout of searing agony through him, an electric shock that burns through him and leaves a throbbing pain behind. It hurts, everything hurts, make it stop make it stop make it stop—

Someone’s growling and the sound makes him panic and the resonance reverberates along the broken pathways that once were his bones and meridians and—

”Hanguang-jun—stand down—no choice—subdue—.”

The words make no sense but the voice is soft, like silk over steel. He whines because this is wrong this is all wrong he isn’t supposed to be here, not anymore—

”Wei-xiong, stay still,” a soft voice whispers. ”—grievously injured—still—weak.”

He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t know where he is what happened who are you what is this—

A soft, feather-light cocoon wraps itself around him, cutting off the confusion and pain and all his panicky thoughts. It feels familiar and safe and he slowly, carefully, lets himself breathe out. He still hears soft murmuring but it’s outside his cocoon and he doesn’t need to worry about it.

Exhausted, he lets go of his confusion and sinks into oblivion once more.

The next time he blinks his eyes open, he squints at a golden light dancing with speckles of dust on the canopy over the bed. He takes a breath and, surprisingly enough, it doesn’t hurt as much as it did. 

Had it hurt? 

Had he been awake?

”Well, Hanguang-jun is going to be pissed,” someone says dryly.

He manages a questioning sound that scrapes through his throat, a brittle, broken tone that still manages to do what it’s supposed to: get their attention.

”He’s been by your side the whole time, watching over you and growling at everyone who dared to come too close,” the same voice continues. ”We managed to bully him out to wash up and change his clothes only moments ago, so, of course you chose to wake up now.”

He blinks a couple of times and then tentatively turns his head. He manages to move just a fraction before his muscles cramp and pain attacks again but it is enough. The one talking right next to him stands up and leans over him so that they can see eye to eye.

”Welcome back, Young Master Wei,” a young man says. His smile is small and his eyes sharp and he has dimples. He looks very cute. 

”Who?” He asks. His voice is hoarse like he’s been screaming. Perhaps he has. He doesn’t remember.

”I’m Meng Yao, Young Master Wei,” the dimples say. ”We met briefly in Lanling when you brought late Sect Leader Wen’s message to the gathered sect leaders.” 

Oh, right. The omega who had been sitting next to… ”Zewu-jun?”

Meng Yao’s smile turns softer, warmer, more genuine. ”Yes,” he says softly. ”I’m Zewu-jun’s mate.”

”Great,” Wei Wuxian manages as his eyes lose focus again. ”What h’pend?”

”You died,” Meng Yao says matter-of-factly. ”And then you came back.”

”A-Yao,” another voice chides and Nie Huaisang’s face appears next to Meng Yao’s.

”Well, he did,” Meng Yao says.

Nie Huaisang rolls his eyes. ”I’m sorry, Wei-xiong. It’s been a long couple of weeks.” He sighs and his eyes take a faraway look for a moment as he absent-mindedly opens and closes his fan. It’s pale purple this time.

”Do you remember the battle in Nightless City?” Nie Huaisang asks. ”You beheaded Wen Ruohan and took control of the Tiger Tally.”

Wei Wuxian frowns and the movement sends spikes of pain through his brain. ”Yeah,” he says. It’s not exactly true because he doesn’t really remember, he only recalls short bursts of colors and sounds through intense, mind-searing pain.

Meng Yao cocks his head. ”Well, you caught it. Or…” He pauses and frowns. ”I’m not sure whether you caught it or it caught you? It’s hard to say. Nevertheless, it ended up in your hand and it reacted almost instantly.”

Wei Wuxian remembers that. He remembers the way a surge of power stormed through him, burned along his veins, and throbbed in sync with his heart.

”We were told it was rather disturbing,” Meng Yao says.

”Disturbing,” Wei Wuxian repeats.

Nie Huaisang winces. ”Zewu-jun said you were glowing black and red light and then you…” He glances at Meng Yao.

”Then you exploded,” Meng Yao says softly.

”Oh,” Wei Wuxian says dumbly. ”I don’t remember?” He ventures.

”I don’t think you’re missing out much,” Nie Huaisang muses. ”We didn’t see it ourselves. Zewu-jun told us but he was preoccupied with Hanguang-jun at the time.”

”Hanguang-jun went feral,” Meng Yao adds.

”Um,” Wei Wuxian says. Feral?

”Yes. He almost tore the Wen doctor’s head off before someone bothered to come and get us. We managed to calm him down.”

”He was quite impressive,” Nie Huaisang murmurs and fans himself.

”Yes, he was,” Meng Yao agrees and his lips quirk. ”A very strong and protective mate.”

What? Wei Wuxian blinks slowly and then closes his eyes. ”I’ll pass out now,” he says.

And then he dozes off again.

The next time he wakes up, he’s pleasantly warm and his body feels more like his own again and not the odd, scattered bag of warring energies being stitched together in a hurry. It’s nice. Everything is sort of nice which, now that he thinks of it, might have something to do with the familiar, soothing scent of sandalwood and the slow heartbeat in his ear.

The heartbeat picks up slightly and then—

”Wei Ying?”

He opens his eyes. The room is dark save for one candle on the table next to the bed. He’s wearing a different underrobe from the last time he was awake. It’s thin and soft and white and—

”Why am I wearing your underrobe?” He croaks, confused, turning his head carefully to look at the alpha laying next to him.

Lan Zhan blinks. He looks gaunt and exhausted and the shadow of heartbreak is still lurking in his eyes. ”I—” His voice trails away and he averts his eyes, frustrated.

”Um, no, it’s okay, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian hurries to say. ”I was just confused, that’s all.”

The alpha stares at him for a moment and then seems to come to some decision. Slowly, he reaches behind his head and unties the forehead ribbon.

”Lan Zhan—” Wei Wuxian starts, alarmed.

”The Lan alphas have impeccable control,” Madam Yu had once said. ”Their forehead ribbons act as additional grounding tools, much like our clarity bells. Remove the ribbon and you remove part of their control.” She’d paused and added, dryly, ”Just so you know, removing the ribbon is allowed only by and in the presence of close family: parents, children, and mates. If you need to do that, be careful. You might get more than you bargained for.” 

The moment Lan Zhan removes the ribbon, his scent blooms. It was mouth-watering before but it’s nothing compared to the sheer intensity and depth of what cascades over Wei Wuxian. The familiar base scent is there but it has layers upon layers on top of it, and it’s so much, it’s too much to parse through, Wei Wuxian had no idea—

The strongest scent that cuts through the myriad, brilliant kaleidoscope of everything Lan Zhan feels is devotion, pure and simple. It wraps around Wei Wuxian and cradles him and he chokes, shakes his head despite the pain because it doesn’t make sense, it’s too much, it can’t be for him—

”Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan whispers and presses his bare forehead against Wei Wuxian’s. ”It has always, ever been only for Wei Ying.”

”All of it?” He says in a small voice. But how?

”You died,” Lan Zhan says. ”And then you died again.” There’s something unbearably fragile in his voice and it breaks Wei Wuxian’s heart.

”I’m sorry,” he whispers. ”I’m so sorry about everything.”

”No sorries,” Lan Zhan says and draws back slightly to look him in the eye. ”Wei Ying died without knowing. Will not make the same mistake again.”

It’s very hard to breathe when Lan Zhan is looking at him like that—like Wei Wuxian is the sole reason for his existence. It’s scary and unbelievable and everything Wei Wuxian has ever even dared to hope.

”Okay, Lan Zhan,” he says weakly. ”I know now.”

”Do you?”

”What?”

”Does Wei Ying know?” Lan Zhan asks. His eyes get, if possible, even more intense. Wei Wuxian sort of wants to look away but Lan Zhan is now cupping his face in those warm, calloused hands and he can’t look away. 

”Does Wei Ying understand?”

”I—”

”Wei Ying is precious,” Lan Zhan says. ”Wei Ying is beautiful, inside out. Brave. Amazing. Strong. Clever. Want to be with Wei Ying forever, love and cherish Wei Ying. Want to mate Wei Ying. Belong to Wei Ying—”

Wei Wuxian’s eyes grow wider and wider with every word and his cheeks are flaming so red Lan Zhan must feel the burn in his hands. And then he can’t even see Lan Zhan because his eyes are full of tears and oh, great, now he’s sobbing and Lan Zhan is still talking, saying all those lovely words that make Wei Wuxian feel all mushy and soft and ready to burst all at once—

”Wei Ying?”

He lets out a wet sound that’s meant as a chuckle and wriggles out of Lan Zhan’s hold to burrow against his chest instead. ”You can’t say things like that,” he mumbles against Lan Zhan’s robes.

”Will say all the things Wei Ying deserves,” Lan Zhan says primly.

”But—”

”No buts,” Lan Zhan interrupts. 

He shifts slightly and arranges Wei Wuxian so that he’s laying comfortably against Lan Zhan’s chest, nose against the hollow of the alpha’s throat. It’s an intimate position and it makes him shy how at ease Lan Zhan is with Wei Wuxian so close to his throat. He hears a rustle and a moment later, something soft and heavy settles over him—Lan Zhan’s outer robe. He’s surrounded by Lan Zhan and his delicious, wonderful scent and the sheer bliss of it makes Wei Wuxian soft and warm, his pains blessedly set aside. 

He doesn’t remember when he’s last felt this safe.

As he falls asleep, he doesn’t even realize he’s purring.

(He doesn’t see the wide-eyed wonder in Lan Zhan’s eyes.)

Wei Wuxian’s mattress is growling.

”Wha—” he mumbles and lifts his head, and realizes that one, he’s still on top of Lan Zhan and two, Lan Zhan is growling at someone.

”Oh dear,” Zewu-jun murmurs. ”I apologize for intruding such a private moment,” he says, ”But that doctor friend of yours is quite insistent, Wei Wuxian. She said you cannot skip even one dose or the pain will become unbearable again.”

Lan Zhan’s growl turns deeper and his hands clench tighter around Wei Wuxian.

Bewildered, Wei Wuxian raises his head properly to stare at the alpha growling at his own brother.

”Lan Zhan!” He groans. ”What are you doing? You can’t growl at your brother!”

Lan Zhan doesn’t stop. Wei Wuxian pokes him on the chest. ”Listen to me! Zewu-jun is not a threat, not to me and certainly not to you. He’s your brother! He’s mated! He is allowed to, you know, say my name!”

Lan Zhan’s growl morphs into a mulish silence but the flinty look in his eyes doesn’t change.

Wei Wuxian drops his forehead on Lan Zhan’s chest. ”I can’t believe I’m in love with such a silly alpha,” he mumbles into the silky robes.

Lan Zhan freezes and the hand that moves to brush the hair from Wei Wuxian’s face shakes. ”Wei Ying?” He whispers, and when Wei Wuxian turns his head to glance at him, his eyes are wide and bright.

”What?” Wei Wuxian says and frowns and—

Oh.

He mushes his face back against Lan Zhan’s chest to hide his blush because he just blurted out loud that he’s in love with Lan Zhan while Zewu-jun stands in the room and it’s mortifying and he probably should just crawl under the blankets to hide—

Lan Zhan’s scent, soft and safe and wonderful, curls around him and gently nudges his thoughts out of the loop he’s been spiraling and, well, what can Wei Wuxian do except nuzzle closer and—

Zewu-jun interrupts them with a delicate cough.

Oops?

Wei Wuxian lets out a sheepish laugh and gingerly turns around in Lan Zhan’s arms to face…what is Zewu-jun to him now anyway, a brother-in-law?

Zewu-jun smiles. ”I’m glad to see you’re feeling better,” he says mildly, standing by the door. ”It should soothe Wangji’s mind as well.”

”Mn,” Lan Zhan says and does absolutely nothing to move either of them or his hands. Wei Wuxian is very much okay with it.

”Do you feel like sitting up yet?” Zewu-jun asks, inclining his head at the tray he’s holding. ”Doctor Wen says you can start moving if you feel like it as long as you are careful and have someone with you at all times.” He raises a brow and gives Wei Wuxian a Look. ”She also mentioned something about the definition of careful and said you’d know what she means.”

”I…might have an idea,” Wei Wuxian says. ”And yeah, I think I’d like to sit up.”

Carefully, he starts pushing himself to sit up—only to be unbearably gently maneuvered until he’s sitting up slightly sideways against Lan Zhan’s chest, his head resting on the alpha’s shoulder. Wei Wuxian is sure his face is bright red again but Zewu-jun merely smiles and pours him a cup of tea. 

It’s dark and strangely spicy (like all Wen Qing’s medicinal brews), leaving a cool, tingly feeling in Wei Wuxian’s throat. Suddenly parched, he empties the first cup in just a couple of swallows and Zewu-jun refills his cup before setting the tray to the side.

”There are things we need to talk about but before we start, I believe I have something of yours,” he says and reaches into his sleeve. 

Wei Wuxian lets out a relieved sigh when he sees the long object wrapped in white silk. ”Chenqing,” he murmurs. ”I was afraid for a moment that you’d be lost.” 

He unwraps the silk and laughs lightly as dark tendrils reach out to curl around his wrist. The sight makes both alphas tense up but Wei Wuxian merely smiles. ”It’s fine. In general, as long as anyone isn’t trying to harm me, she stays silent,” he says. ”And I’ve already told him that she isn’t to harm Lan Zhan ever, in under any circumstances.” And you should add Zewu-jun to that list of never-ever people, he tells her and strokes his finger along the matte black surface. 

She hums, as delighted in their reunion as him.

”She is a formidable weapon,” Zewu-jun says carefully, respect and curiosity in his eyes.

”Yeah, she is,” Wei Wuxian says, proud and grateful. ”I wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for her.”

”Then we are glad she was there for you in a time of need,” Zewu-jun says.

Lan Zhan doesn’t say anything but his arm tightens around Wei Wuxian and he snuggles closer. When he realizes his both hands are occupied, he downs his tea, hands the cup back to Zewu-jun, and then threads his fingers through Lan Zhan’s. 

Holding Chenqing in his other hand and leaning against his alpha, he says, ”You have questions, Zewu-jun. Let’s hear them.”

Zewu-jun inclines his head and then his face morphs slightly as he turns from Lan Zhan’s brother into Sect Leader Lan. ”What is the Tiger Tally and what happened to it?”

”The Tiger Tally was a spiritual tool forged from unknown material and used to collect, store, and amplify resentful energy. Yes, it’s more complicated than that, and no, I will absolutely not provide more detailed information.” Wei Wuxian says. ”As for what happened to it, well, I destroyed it.”

”Hm,” Zewu-jun says. ”Do you have plans to make another one?”

Wei Wuxian snorts. ”Fuck no. Making one was insane and destroying it should’ve killed me—which, by the way, why didn’t it? I shouldn’t be alive. Huaisang and Meng Yao said I…exploded?”

Zewu-jun’s face turns troubled. ”It certainly looked like it. Your very being became unraveled and then Wangji poured out all his spiritual energy to put you back together.” He pauses. ”And then he… well, he went feral.”

”I will not apologize for my behavior,” Lan Zhan says flatly.

”And no one expects you to,” Zewu-jun says mildly. ”That was an observation, not reprimand. Wangji, you saw your mate being ripped apart in front of your eyes, it’s no wonder you lost control.” He sighs and smiles ruefully. ”If it had been A-Yao, I doubt I would’ve fared any better.”

”Oh, right,” Wei Wuxian says. ”Congratulations, Zewu-jun. I saw your mate in Lanling but obviously couldn’t say anything then.”

Zewu-jun’s smile turns bright and happy, and it makes him look younger. ”Thank you. And please, call me Xichen. We’re practically family.”

”Okay. And you can call me Wuxian if you’d like and no, Lan Zhan, you have no say.”

His alpha merely huffs against his neck.

”Was there something else—oh shit. My journals? Did Wen Qing burn them?” Wei Wuxian says, leaning urgently forward. It pays off in a brilliant flash of pain down his spine and he hisses.

”Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan chides him as he guides Wei Wuxian back against his chest and then he gently starts massaging the base of his neck. It feels amazing. Wei Wuxian might just melt into a puddle.

”Doctor Wen was rather busy keeping you alive,” Lan Xichen says dryly. ”But there’s no need to worry: your study has been sealed and only you or myself can enter.”

”Oh, good,” Wei Wuxian slurs and then yawns. ”Uh, sorry,” he says.

Without a word, Lan Zhan holds out a hand and Lan Xichen hands him a blanket that Lan Zhan carefully drapes over Wei Wuxian. ”Sleep,” he says.

”But—” Wei Wuxian starts and then yawns again.

”Yes, the sect leaders will have many more questions, but you should rest now.” Lan Xichen says. ”We’ll talk more later.”

Wei Wuxian grumbles and then wiggles a bit until he’s as comfortable as possible. He drifts off with Lan Xichen and Lan Zhan’s quiet murmur in the background and his mate’s heartbeat in his ear.

The resentful energy surges and fights and snarls and tears and her human is fighting back with everything he’s got. She’s helping, pouring out all they’ve practiced together, the notes as spells themselves, anointed with the power her human embedded into her before she Became. And after she Became, she’s been storing power in her, locking wisps of energy into the spells, covered herself inside out so that she could protect her human. Now is their true test. This is the moment when she’ll find out if she’s worthy.

Chenqing pushes, weaves through the swirling resentment until she finally sees the brightly gleaming end of the seam they knitted together. Their failsafe. Their bomb. She darts to it and takes hold of it and then she pulls and pulls until it twitches and starts to unravel. The Tally roars and lashes out and she screams back because it will not take her human, not as long as she—

He drops her.

He drops her and grabs the Tally with his hands, his so very fragile human hands that are small and delicate and breakable and he grips and holds and the Tally grows hotter and colder at the same time. She tries to help but he’s too caught up in the battle and without him, she’s not enough. But she still tries. She skips out of the way as his golden threads close in like the pouch he’s sometimes stored her in, and their power makes the Tally angry, so so angry, and it seems like it’s drawing breath, and then it explodes.

No! Not my human, she screams but she can’t do anything but witness how her human is torn to pieces.

But then, another scream. It’s the human in white, the one she will never harm, the one whose immense power reached out for her human that one time she witnessed them talking. He screams and tears away from the other in white and he falls on his knees in front of the golden threads and raises his hands like he’s trying to push closer and she could tell him it won’t work there’s no point, her human is too clever. But he tries anyway. He screams and tries and she tries with him.

It doesn’t work.

Her human is flayed bare and ripped apart in a cloud of red and black and sun and fire. The pitiful remains of his being sway and slowly topple to the ground as the golden threads wink out of existence and the Tally is gone but so is her human and if she could weep she would. The human in white lets out a sound like his soul had been ripped out and then his hands start glowing brighter and brighter like he’s holding two suns and he pours it all into the remains of her human, pours and pours and pours and she can’t sense anything else but the unyielding light that eradicates the last ripples of resentment from around them.  And when the suns flicker and burn out, the human in white crawls over to her human who—miraculously—is still there, hurt and dying, but there.

The red lady rushes to her human and the human in white refuses to move, refuses to leave, refuses to do anything but growl. The lady in red snaps and the human in white growls and hauls her human on his lap and curls around him like he could protect him with his force of will. And then two more humans step forward to the human in white and they do something, Chenqing doesn’t understand what, but it feels almost like what her human used to do to the monster in red.

The human in white blinks out. 

The red lady kneels next to her human.

And she…she feels someone picking her up. They feel very alike the one in white, the one she will never harm, and it’s the only reason she doesn’t lash out.

”There’s no need for alarm,” a soft voice says to her. ”If you allow it, I will wrap you in silk to keep you safe and deliver you back to your master when he feels better.”

She lets out a hum and considers. 

She can allow that, yes.

She’s placed next to someone not-quite-like-her, this one is bright and light and doesn’t think like her. But it’s calming to feel a kinship, no matter how shallow. It soothes her. 

Wrapped in white silk, she sleeps and waits.

Wei Wuxian wakes with a small exhale. He’s on his side, cradled snugly against Lan Zhan, still holding Chenqing. She’s familiar and comforting in his hand and he can feel her relief in his mind.

Thank you for showing me what happened.

—pride—scolding—love—

He huffs quietly. I love you too.

”Wei Ying?” Lan Zhan says. His voice is sleep-muffled and worried.

”Ah, sorry, Lan Zhan. I didn’t mean to wake you up,” he says and pats the hand spanning his stomach. ”Go back to sleep.”

”If Wei Ying is awake, then I am awake.”

Wei Wuxian groans and turns carefully around in Lan Zhan’s arms. ”Why are you like this?” He whines.

Lan Zhan doesn’t say anything, just looks at him and it’s annoying how flustered it makes him. To hide his face, he flops on top of Lan Zhan again and tucks his face against his neck which is both terrible and wonderful because that’s where Lan Zhan’s scent is the strongest, and Wei Wuxian will live here now.

”I’m never getting out of bed again,” he mumbles, and Lan Zhan—

—He twitches? And again? Is he…

Wei Wuxian lifts his head. ”Lan Zhan, are you laughing?” He squeals, bewildered. ”You are! What—how—Lan Zhan!”

His alpha shakes his head, amused, and then he cups Wei Wuxian’s face between his hands and kisses him. It’s nothing like the half-crazed heat-kiss they shared years ago, this is tender, careful, almost chaste. But it feels even more precious because of that.

”That’s not fair,” Wei Wuxian mumbles some time later. ”Placating me with a kiss.”

”Why?” Lan Zhan asks. ”Is Wei Ying not happy?”

”It makes me too happy! If you keep kissing me like that, I’ll never let you go!”

”Mn. Will kiss Wei Ying more then,” Lan Zhan says decisively and does exactly that, and it devolves into spluttering and laughter and small, tender pecks on noses and cheeks and gentle brushes against the skin and it makes Wei Wuxian’s heart feel so full he feels like he’s bursting.

An indeterminate time later, as Lan Zhan rests his head on Wei Wuxian’s chest and listens to his heart, Wei Wuxian strokes his hair and says, ”What happens next?”

”Brother will talk with other sect leaders,” Lan Zhan says. ”Sect Leader Jiang and Maiden Jiang will visit later today.”

”A-Cheng and shijie? Why didn’t you say so earlier?” Wei Wuxian exclaims and then groans, ”Aiyah, they’re going to be so mad at me.”

”At me,” Lan Zhan corrects. ”Maiden Jiang has visited you daily but—” he pauses and the tips of his ears go red. ”I might have prevented Sect Leader Jiang from entering,” he says stiffly.

Wei Wuxian blinks and grins. ”You mean you went full alpha on him? Oh, I would’ve loved to see that!”

”If you insist,” Lan Zhan deadpans.

Wei Wuxian stares at him for a moment with his mouth open and then he starts to giggle. ”Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, nobody told me you’re this funny!”

Lan Zhan’s scent turns smug and a small, indulgent smile tugs at his lips. ”Only for Wei Ying,” he says.

”Uh, Lan Zhan, Lan-er-gege,” Wei Wuxian whines. He feels strange in his skin, hot and cold at the same time and he doesn’t know what to do with himself. Luckily—or unfortunately, depending on whom you ask—someone knocks on the door and interrupts them.

”A-Xian? Hanguang-jun? Are you awake? May we enter?” Jiang Yanli’s voice calls, followed by a grumbling, ”Better to ask if they’re decent,” from Jiang Cheng.

”Shijie! A-Cheng!” Wei Wuxian gasps, winces at the sharp sting of pain in his chest, and then yells, ”Yeah, come in!”

The door opens and immediately Jiang Cheng chokes, ”Oh, for fuck’s sake—” which, naturally, prompts a menacing growl from Lan Zhan. Wei Wuxian might have way too much fun with it all if he wasn’t so happy to see his sister.

”A-Xian, you’re awake!” Jiang Yanli says. ”And it smells like you and Hanguang-jun have had time to clear some things out,” she adds with a mischievous smile. ”I’m glad.”

Lan Zhan’s ears are red as he sits up and reties his forehead ribbon. Jiang Cheng does a bad job concealing his relieved sigh when Lan Zhan’s scent goes muted but Wei Wuxian misses it immediately. He feels better when Lan Zhan helps him to sit up and lean against him again, though.

”Maiden Jiang,” Lan Zhan greets warmly. ”Sect Leader Jiang,” he adds after a pause in a significantly frostier tone. (It’s hilarious.)

”Hanguang-jun, I’ve told you to call me Yanli,” shijie scolds gently.

”Only if Maiden Jiang calls me by my name in return,” Lan Zhan replies. 

Shijie’s answering nod and smile make Wei Wuxian tear up again which is awesome and ridiculous. Because shijie is perfect, she ignores Wei Wuxian’s sniffles and concentrates on setting the basket she’s carrying on the table, gets out bowls and spoons, and serves them her lotus root and pork rib soup. She even has a vegetarian version for Lan Zhan which makes her even more awesome and Wei Wuxian really could do with less crying now, thank you.

”When are you going to stop lazying around and get up from the bed?” Jiang Cheng asks when they’ve finished all the soup and sip strong Yunmeng tea. 

”I don’t know,” Wei Wuxian says and snickers. ”When Lan Zhan lets me, I guess.”

”Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan chides but his hands clench and grip Wei Wuxian tighter.

”You!” Jiang Cheng sputters and goes red. ”You’re not even mated and you’re sharing a bed already!”

”I treat Wei Ying with the utmost respect,” Lan Zhan says icily.

Jiang Cheng sniffs. ”You better. He’s our brother and deserves all the respect even if he doesn’t always behave as befitting of the head disciple of Yunmeng Jiang.”

”What?” Wei Wuxian says, bewildered.

”What?” Jiang Cheng snaps back. He avoids Wei Wuxian’s gaze and busies himself with a qiankun pouch. ”When you get around to take a real bath, make sure you dress properly.” He frowns and then turns abruptly and stomps out, leaving behind a neatly folded, brand new Jiang sect underrobe and Wei Wuxian’s very own Jiang sect clarity bell.

”He’s been worried about you,” shijie says quietly as she cleans up the dishes. ”We’re so happy to see you feel better.”

Wei Wuxian nods, speechless, still staring at the clarity bell.

”—Which makes me wonder, how can we be sure the threat of demonic cultivation is behind us?” Sect Leader Yao finishes his overly long speech with dramatic motions with his hands, looking way too happy with himself. 

Pompous ass, Wei Wuxian huffs to himself and then offers Lan Zhan a sheepish look when the alpha raises a brow. He wishes he could just sit on Lan Zhan’s lap like he’s been doing so far but apparently it wouldn’t be proper considering this is his first formal hearing with all the sect leaders present and blah blah blah. Stupid, if someone bothered to ask Wei Wuxian which they didn’t, so.

”Behind us, in front of us, under us, above us,” Wei Wuxian says in a bored tone and rolls his eyes. ”Just because it’s different doesn’t mean it’s inherently evil.”

”It is forbidden!” Sect Leader Yao declares.

Wei Wuxian gives him an unimpressed look. ”Lots of things are forbidden, including but not limited to certain things happening in a certain establishment with a green door,” he says dryly.

Sect Leader Yao’s face turns into an interesting shade of puce. ”You—you—”

Wei Wuxian grins and twirls Chenqing in his hand. ”…yes, me?”

”You admit to using demonic cultivation for nefarious purposes!” Sect Leader Yao screeches.

”For fuck’s sake,” Jiang Cheng snaps. ”We all know about your appetites. If I could scrub the knowledge from my mind with some help of resentful energy, I would. Now, shut the fuck up and sit down.”

Sect Leader Yao sits down and grits his teeth.

”Young Master Wei, I’m sure you understand why your abilities raise concerns,” Madam Jin says. ”No one questions the sacrifices you’ve had to make or the danger you put yourself in but one does wonder what gave you the idea of doing so in the first place.”

Wei Wuxian tilts his head a bit and wonders. Madam Jin and Madam Yu were friends for decades and even though Madam Jin is a beta, she must have known about Madam Yu and the omega order she was part of. She watches him back with an unblinking, steady gaze that gives nothing away.

”The choice to act the way I did was my own,” Wei Wuxian finally says, choosing his words carefully. ”But I was…guided to the right direction.” He glances at Jiang Cheng who narrows his eyes at him and then averts his gaze with a gritted jaw.

”Are you saying you have a handler?” A haughty Jin alpha asks with a sneer.

”I’m sorry, who are you?” Wei Wuxian asks and then continues over the alpha’s indignant spluttering, ”Never mind. The only one who handles me in any way is Lan Zhan and I’m not sure you want to go there.”

The Jin alpha takes one look at Lan Zhan’s face, blanches, and shuffles back to hide behind Madam Jin. 

I really have the best alpha, Wei Wuxian decides smugly and gives Lan Zhan a wide smile, ignoring the exasperated and scandalized murmurs around the room. The tips of Lan Zhan’s ears turn rosy and he takes Wei Wuxian’s hand without looking at him and squeezes it gently. 

”Anyway,” he continues. ”Truth is, the ghostly path is real. It’s real and it’s there and as long as resentful energy exists, demonic cultivation exists. It’s not inherently good or bad, it just is. Cultivators can do harm with spiritual energy and they can do good with resentful energy. It’s not the energy that matters as much, it’s how one uses it.”

”Not true,” Nie Mingjue says. ”If resentful energy wasn’t harmful, the Nie cultivators wouldn’t be heading toward Qi deviation from the moment we pick up our sabres.”

Wei Wuxian inclines his head. ”An excellent point, Sect Leader Nie, and you are absolutely right. May I be so bold to assume that meridian purification isn’t part of the daily Nie cultivation routine?”

”I don’t think you’ve ever asked if you may or may not do anything but yes, you assume right,” Nie Mingjue says dryly, prompting a snort from Jiang Cheng. 

Wei Wuxian grins. ”Ah, right. Well, when I get some of my strength back, I’d be more than happy to demonstrate how to purge the lingering resentment from your core. With a bit of tinkering, I might even…” his voice trails away as his mind jumps to ponder about how to get rid of the resentful energy in the Nie sabres. It’s an issue that’s worth solving—

Nie Mingjue clears his throat.

”Ah, sorry, Lan Zhan, where’s my—” He turns to Lan Zhan only to see the alpha holding out his journal. ”Lan Zhan, Lan-er-gege, you’re the best,” he gasps, his mind already racing ahead and his fingers scrambling to keep up.

”What’s happening?” Someone asks and Lan Xichen says, ”I believe Young Master Wei has an idea and he needs to write it down. In the meantime, why don’t we talk about how to handle the issue of the rest of the Wen—”

Wei Wuxian loses himself in his notes for some time and resurfaces when Lan Zhan moves his hand over his journal. He raises his head, blinks several times to stave off the recurring headache, and frowns.

”We are breaking for lunch,” Lan Zhan says, and cups Wei Wuxian’s cheek for a moment before standing up. ”Wei Ying should also take a break.” 

Wei Wuxian leans his chin in his hand and watches his alpha walk across the room, back straight and his other hand behind his back, and he’s so beautiful it clenches something in Wei Wuxian’s chest.

He snaps out of it when Jiang Cheng clears his throat from his other side. He hovers for a moment and then sits down, slightly stiff and awkward, and then falls silent, thinking. Finally, he says slowly, ”’I was offered a deal I couldn’t turn down.’ ”

”Huh?”

Jiang Cheng doesn’t look at him. ”That’s what you said after Gusu. And after Lotus Pier, you said you had to go but you couldn’t tell me where.”

”A-Cheng—”

”Did you ever have a choice to stay in Yunmeng with me?” Jiang Cheng asks quietly. ”Or were you always meant to be a…whatever you are?” 

”That’s something I’ve been wondering myself.” Wei Wuxian sighs. ”But I guess we’ll never know.”

Jiang Cheng lets out a frustrated huff. ”Yeah.”

Wei Wuxian glances up and sees Lan Zhan watching them with an unreadable expression. When he smiles and shakes his head slightly, Lan Zhan’s expression doesn’t change but his shoulders relax.

”You two are disgusting,” Jiang Cheng mutters.

Wei Wuxian grins and nudges him with his shoulder which prompts Jiang Cheng to shove him back, almost toppling Wei Wuxian over. He yelps and flails, gritting his teeth against the blinding flash of pain, and somehow manages to smack Jiang Cheng in the face. 

Jiang Cheng hisses and yanks him to sit up again. ”How anyone thinks you’re a threat to the cultivation world, I have no idea,” he huffs.

”Excuse you, I’m a delight!” Wei Wuxian gasps dramatically and then cackles when Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes.

Whatever Jiang Cheng was about to snap back is forgotten when a commotion breaks out outside. 

”Stop it!—”

”Don’t let it in—”

”Look out!—”

A familiar, dark shape swoops in through the open doors and Wei Wuxian’s jaw drops. 

That’s impossible!  

He braces himself against Jiang Cheng and stands up, feeling Chenqing vibrate on his belt. But she’s not alarmed. She’s curious.

”What the fuck?” Jiang Cheng snarls as Zidian unfurls with an electric crackle and he moves to stand in front of Wei Wuxian.

More cultivators pour in and on the other side of the room, Lan Zhan whips out his guqin and in the middle of it all is the Dire Owl and—

”DON’T!” Wei Wuxian commands the room at large and then grips Jiang Cheng’s shoulder to stay upright because that might or might not have made him slightly light-headed. ”It’s not here to harm anyone,” he gasps.

”What the hell is that thing?” Nie Mingjue growls, his sabre at the ready.

”It’s the Wen Dire Owl,” Wei Wuxian says, frowning as it hovers in the air. ”It shouldn’t exist anymore and I don’t know why it does.” He shrugs and steps forward on almost steady feet. ”Okay. Come here,” he says, holding out his hand. He’s acutely aware of the tension in the room as the Dire Owl swoops down and lands on his arm before hopping over to perch on his shoulder where it hiss-gurgles and rubs its beak against Wei Wuxian’s cheek.

”What are you doing here?” He asks as he pets it. ”You should’ve perished with Wen Ruohan.”

The Dire Owl lets out a series of clicking noises that sound like scolding. 

”Wei Ying?” Lan Zhan calls out tightly, still holding Wangji in front of him. He’s barely holding himself back and…yeah. Wei Wuxian might not have realized how this must feel for Lan Zhan especially.

”Everything’s fine, I’m okay, it’s not dangerous. It’s a— what are you anyway?” He tilts his head at the Dire Owl. ”You used to be a spy. Are you still a spy? For whom?” The Dire Owl bumps him once like it wants him to continue petting it. ”Me? Why? Oh, never mind. This charming mass of resentment used to be something Wen Ruohan used as a spy but it started reporting to me some while ago.” He pauses and frowns. ”Is that what you’re doing here? Reporting to me?”

The Dire Owl hiss-gurgles and smacks at him with what goes for its wing.

What the fuck.

”Huaisang likes birds too,” Nie Mingjue says out of the blue. ”They’re just a bit smaller than this. And, you know, solid.”

”Well,” Madam Jin starts.

”This is an outrage!” Sect Leader Yao cries out. ”He’s flaunting his demonic powers in front—ofmmhhh—mmpphh—hmmhhpp!—” His outburst ends abruptly when his lips seal together and to his bewilderment, he’s unable to continue his tirade.

”Ah, thank you, Zewu-jun,” Madam Jin murmurs with a small smile.

Lan Xichen inclines his head. ”How about we deal with this newest turn of events after lunch?” He asks calmly and then motions with his hand for them to move slightly to the side which prompts the others to move too, leaving a wide berth around Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng.

”What the fuck,” Jiang Cheng says again.

”You can put Zidian away,” Wei Wuxian says. ”I think it makes it nervous.”

Jiang Cheng gives him an incredulous look which is frankly slightly unwarranted in Wei Wuxian’s mind. ”Well tough luck because hell no!”

”Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan says, hurrying to his side. He’s put his guqin away but he’s still tense, ready to jump to Wei Wuxian’s defense at a moment’s notice. It’s unnecessary, of course, but also wonderful and makes Wei Wuxian’s heart skip in a weird way.

”Ah, Lan Zhan. Um.” He makes a face and gives a sheepish look at his alpha. ”I have no idea why it’s here but I guess it has something to tell me.” He turns to the Dire Owl. ”Do you? Talk to me.”

The Owl lets out another hissing sound and then it looks Wei Wuxian in the eye. 

He’s suddenly flying high above a flat area, gliding over a plain of horses and a smattering of small villages. They look quaint and there’s something vaguely familiar about them. This is not Yunmeng, a bit more to the east… near Ezhou, perhaps? No, farther. But it looks like a nice place.

As the scenery speeds by, it catches fire. Wei Wuxian sees people running from their homes, eyes and mouths open wide. The Dire Owl can’t transmit sound but it’s obvious they’re screaming, both from terror and from pain. They run and stumble and fall and crawl and they’re bleeding and screaming, trying to drag themselves forward even when their fingers crackle and turn to dust and the blood in their eyes dries. The Owl swoops low and flies over a row after a row of bodies that look more like crumpled paper dolls filled with sawdust than actual bodies, and if Wei Wuxian hadn’t just seen what happened he would never think they had once been human.

They’re all clothed alike: in dark green overrobes and pale grey underrobes and they all wear woven belts with a peculiar pattern. The Owl swoops up and then returns one last time, this time passing over what looks like a communal hall. The flag in front of it flares once and then falls limp again.

Wei Wuxian comes out of the vision with a gasp. ”Paper…paper…I need…paper,” he chokes. He’s reeling from everything he just witnessed, and surreptitiously wipes a trickle of blood from his nose, fervently grateful for Jiang Cheng’s support. Without a word, Lan Zhan hands him paper and a brush and he starts drawing the flag and the belt pattern. He’s distantly aware of Jiang Cheng’s impatience and Lan Zhan’s concern but the need to get the vision out, to draw and write everything down as they’re fresh in his memory is too strong. 

When he’s done, he blinks a couple of times, thanks the Dire Owl with a murmur and a pet, and then looks up with wide eyes.

”Um, when was the last time anyone heard from Tingshan He?” 

Tingshan He is a small clan of down-to-earth cultivators, perhaps sixty or seventy cultivators strong. They’re located Southeast of Yunmeng, near Zhoushan Zhao which is why Wei Wuxian associates them with Ezhou. He stopped shortly in Tingshan on his way to Zhoushan during that unfortunate trip with his triggered heat and run-in with Lan Zhan and—

Uh. Wei Wuxian prefers not to think about that.

Anyway. No one has heard of Tingshan He for a while. It’s not concerning in itself because there’s a war going on and small clans tend to often go overlooked in times like this. But considering the Dire Owl shows things that have already happened, it raises questions.

They get their answer barely an hour later when a small delegation from Zhoushan Zhao arrives, led by Zhao Donghai. He’d first flown to Gusu because it was the nearest great sect and Lan Qiren had directed him to Qishan.

”Zhoushan Zhao greets sect leaders!” Zhao Donghai greets as he’s shown into the hall the sect leaders use for meetings. ”We bring disturbing news from Tingshan He and ask for advice.”

”The whole clan is dead, right?” Wei Wuxian says quietly.

Zhao Donghai blinks several times, first at Wei Wuxian before he recognizes him and at the sight of the Dire Owl still perching on Wei Wuxian’s shoulder. He shakes his head. ”I—Yes. Young Master Wei, may I ask how did you already know?”

Wei Wuxian feels Lan Zhan twitch when Zhao Donghai uses his name but that’s something he’ll have to explain to him later. He closes his eyes and rubs at the base of his nose, feeling the headache and nausea swell.

”We received the information through…unconventional means a short while ago,” he hears Lan Xichen say. ”Your arrival confirmed the grim tidings. Please, tell us what you saw.”

As Zhao Donghai starts giving his statement on what he witnessed in Tingshan, Wei Wuxian tries to breathe through the increasing, pulsing pain in his head. He feels the shivery feeling of the Dire Owl’s wing brush his temple and while he appreciates its concern, it makes his stomach roil and—

”Wei Ying?” Lan Zhan murmurs.

”Get me out of here,” Wei Wuxian whispers without opening his eyes. ”I don’t feel good.”

He feels the Dire Owl hop off from his shoulder a moment before Lan Zhan carefully picks him up and murmurs his excuse before carrying him out of the hall. It’s glaringly obvious Lan Zhan tries to walk as smoothly as possible but his steps still send jarring spikes of pain through Wei Wuxian’s skull and he bites his lip to redirect the pain and presses his nose against Lan Zhan’s neck to drown out everything else but the alpha’s scent.

When they finally make it to what has become their room and it’s blessedly silent and cool, Wei Wuxian is ready to weep from relief. Lan Zhan sets him down as carefully as he can and, thankfully, doesn’t even suggest taking off his forehead ribbon (that would most likely trigger even more nausea and Wei Wuxian doesn’t want to puke when he’s surrounded by his alpha’s full, unsuppressed scent).

Instead, he hears Lan Zhan move around, and then there’s a wonderful, cold towel over his forehead and eyes. A moment after that, the soft notes of guqin fill the room. They’re quiet and unobtrusive and they soothe his nausea and ease his headache and before he realizes it, he’s asleep.

When he wakes up, Nie Huaisang sits by the desk, painting a fan. He doesn’t look up when Wei Wuxian opens his eyes.

”We have a problem,” he says.

”My head hurts,” Wei Wuxian mutters. The towel on his forehead is still cold which means that either Lan Zhan left only moments ago or Nie Huaisang has been changing it.

”Tingshan wasn’t an unrelated incident,” Nie Huaisang says. His voice is soft and pleasant and if someone looked in, they would’ve thought he was talking about something pleasant. Like painting fans.

”I would really, really like to get the fuck out of Qishan and mate Lan Zhan already,” Wei Wuxian says. But he can’t because he was ripped apart and put back together and Wen Qing is both wonderful and terrible because she keeps him on proper pain medication but also denies him from any frisky activity.

He isn’t sulking. He isn’t.

Nie Huaisang leans back slightly and tilts his head, giving his handiwork and appraising look. ”It was an…oversight,” he muses. 

”Lan Zhan is going to look gorgeous in red.”

”Someone wanted to impress a certain someone rather than kill him.” Nie Huaisang purses his lips and adds a couple of delicate brush strokes.

”Do you think Teacher Lan will go to instant Qi deviation when he hears about Lan Zhan and me?” Wei Wuxian wonders and gingerly turns his head to look at Nie Huaisang.

”Poison,” Nie Huaisang says and raises a brow. He changes brushes and starts working on an intricate cloud pattern on the upper part of the fan.

Wei Wuxian really isn’t looking forward to meeting Lan Zhan’s uncle again. The mere thought makes nausea swell and he forces himself to think about something else. ”Yeah, maybe we should stay in Lotus Pier for a while.” 

”Showing off is just tacky,” Nie Huaisang says and shakes his head. ”And dangerous.”

Wei Wuxian hums. ”I wonder if I can bully Lan Zhan for a night swim with me. Or would that just end up in A-Cheng yelling?” He pauses. ”Probably both.”

They fall silent for a moment as Wei Wuxian daydreams of swimming in the warm Yunmeng waters with his alpha and Nie Huaisang adds the finishing touches in his fan. When he’s done, he shows it to Wei Wuxian, a lovely sky blue fan with clouds and lotuses. It’s beautiful and utterly boring. Wei Wuxian lets his amusement show in his smile. Nie Huaisang hides his own smile behind his fan. It’s pale grey with a deep green pattern Wei Wuxian can’t quite figure out.

”About your mating,” Nie Huaisang says. ”It must be…annoying to wait until you have healed enough.”

”A bit, yeah,” Wei Wuxian sighs. ”Although I shouldn’t complain. Lan Zhan sleeps with me already—literally sleeps, Huaisang, get your mind out of the gutter—and it’s more than would usually be deemed proper. Everyone seems to have accepted that because of what happened, they can’t really keep us apart.” He makes a face. ”Still sucks, though.”

”You should talk with Meng Yao,” Nie Huaisang says and fans himself. ”He’s already been through the whole not-good-enough-for-this-alpha and…well. You might find your conversations enlightening.”

Wei Wuxian quirks a brow. ”Is that so?”

”I heard he had a lively conversation with Lan Qiren, so, yes.”

Wei Wuxian grins. ”I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you, Huaisang.”

”You’re welcome,” Nie Huaisang says. He bends down to change the cold towel to a new one and brushes a stray hair off of Wei Wuxian’s face. ”I’m glad you’re safe, Wei-xiong,” he murmurs. ”We still have work to do.”

As the other omega stands up, Wei Wuxian raises a hand and waggles a finger. ”Huaisang, Huaisang…we have to find you a mate, too!”

Nie Huaisang doesn’t bother hiding his snort on his way out.

Wei-xiong,

The Cloud Recesses is so dull without you. The lessons are boring and Young Master Lan looks even more aloof than when you were here to make sure he gets proper exercise. I have some of the books we talked about and I believe I can get my hands on a few more—do you have any preferences? You know me, I don’t care in one way or the other but depending on your inclinations, I might have to adjust things a bit. Let me know!

How are things at Lotus Pier? Or are you even on Lotus Pier?

How are things with Madam Yu?

- Huaisang

Honored Madam Yu,

I heard a rather disturbing rumor the other day. Now, I can’t be certain, of course, but it seems like there has been a supply chain of a certain substance for nefarious purposes. The reason I’m reaching out to you, is because, if I understood correctly, there was a disturbance of sorts in Lotus Pier some while ago—something about a person arriving in a precarious condition? I’m not familiar with the details; after all, I’m just a young omega concerned about all the dark things happening in this world and I couldn’t possibly know if this is the truth.

However, as it happened to be, there was a small band of Nie cultivators in the area—not on any official business, of course, the area falls under the very competent rule of Zhoushan Zhao, lovely people—and as they were on their way back, they ran into a group of… Well. Let’s just say the men weren’t respectable. You might be aware of my da-ge’s opinion about omegas and many of our alphas have adopted his views. They get terribly protective if they even suspect an omega is in harm’s way. I really don’t know the fine details of the altercation but as a result, the Nie cultivators ended up in the possession of several small pouches with some strange, pale mauve powder. As far as I’m aware, that was the whole stash, but I might be wrong. I’m keeping my eyes open for more information.

Our cultivators sealed the pouches into a bigger, heavily warded qiankun pouch and then cast it in wax to keep all the substance firmly contained. Said lump of wax is in the warded package our messenger will release to your most respectable care after you’ve read this letter.

Please, don’t hesitate to let me know if there’s anything else this young omega can do for you.

Respectfully,
Nie Huaisang

Madam Cheng,

I’m writing to you to inform you that the events surrounding the unfortunate incident of your establishment have been investigated. There will be no further investigation and you have been compensated for your grievances. If you find this compensation to be insufficient, I respectfully ask you to cease all further requirements. Needless to say, you will not try to look for what has been misplaced. It would be a shame if something happened to a certain young man in Guangling, wouldn’t it?

Respectfully,
An interested party

Honored Teacher Yu,

Let me express my gratitude for the material you sent. It arrived in perfect condition which I’m sure is all thanks to the intricate and extensive spellwork protecting the chest. I know the circumstances aren’t optimal but I also recognize that they are the best we can accomplish in this tumultuous time. I also understand I am nowhere near as gifted as your recent student but I assure you, I will try my best. Meanwhile, I hope you won’t be offended by the humble gift I chose to send with this letter. I know the winters in Meishan and Qinghe aren’t exactly the same but after I asked around, I was told the wool of our certain mountain-dwelling sheep is exceptionally resistant to cold, damp, and predators. The quilt pattern is traditional to the greater Qinghe area, and I took the liberty to request the weaver to include the protective spells within the weave. Inside the quilt, you will find the instructions to disband the spells, if you so wish.

I shall return the material to you as soon as I can. I swear on my honor that no copies of this material will be made as the only two people who will read them have a perfect recollection.

I am in your debt,

Respectfully,
Nie Huaisang

Jiang Yanli,

I hope this letter finds you well. I’m ashamed how infrequent our correspondence has grown over time, especially after the tragedy you and Jiang Cheng—I’m sorry, Sect Leader Jiang—have been through. You might remember from our conversations back in Gusu that I’ve also lost my parents. Now, I’m in no way insinuating our situations are the same, but I wanted to let you know that if you need someone to talk to, all you have to do is write. I’ll be here.

Always your friend,
Nie Huaisang

A-Yao

Remember the poetry collection I gave you? Read the poem about the river that runs upstream.

Horse, cart, morning dew. You’ll know.

- A-Sang

Dearest Red Mistress,

Do take care of the idiot the best you can. As you probably have already noticed, he has a penchant for self-sacrifice. He is precious to many of us even though he might not believe it to be so.

Yours,
Old Art-book Friend

Respected Madam,

I know how this must look, receiving a package from an unknown sender via a messenger who doesn’t know who sent it. Do believe me, though, when I say I’m doing this for your own good.

For years, your husband’s transgressions have been known throughout the cultivation world. As an unbonded individual, I cannot even begin to imagine how it must be like to witness his infidelity and despicable behavior year after year and learn about the trails he leaves behind. What I am presenting you within this package might seem like an insult but it can also be a way out of this unbearable situation you’ve been living in ever since your marriage arrangement was signed.

Please, do take your time reading through the material. I’m sure you understand that these are copies of the original documents with some parts of them redacted. I will, of course, hand them over if you want to proceed with the information. How you wish to proceed, is none of my concern.

If you wish to learn more and are willing to take responsibility for the full knowledge of your husband’s actions, please wear this brooch in the upcoming sect meeting. I will seek you out.

Yours,
A concerned friend

P.S. I don’t presume to know what parenting is but you might want to consider letting your son and his betrothed in on this.

A-Yao,

You need to attend this meeting. You’ll know why when you see him.

By the time you read this message, things have been set in motion. Our third has made his move and the gelding will take place later today. You will see gold when the sun sets.

Da-ge,

If you thought that leaving me behind would actually end up with me being left behind, you don’t know me at all. I’ll see you in Nightless City.

Yanli,

Please make your way to Nightless City as fast as you can. A-Xian needs you.

- A-Sang

Good Sir,

Do enlighten me of the strange events that happened in Tingshan He a short while ago. And by ”enlighten” I mean, of course, that I sincerely hope you know where our mutual friend is. And by ”friend,” I mean, of course, the unhinged psychopath who you told me was dead. Remember?

With absolutely no respect whatsoever,
You Know Who