Something is wrong.
Something is very, very wrong, Xichen can feel it in his bones. Something about the way Wei Wuxian had stormed the banquet in his righteous fury, something about the way A-Yao’s smile had been just slightly too fixed, something about the way Jin Zixun had crumpled under Young Master Wei’s cold, cold smile.
Xichen meets Mingjue’s eyes across the room, flicks his eyes at the visibly distraught young Sect Leader Jiang who’s both furious at his shixiong and deathly afraid for him, and makes a decision.
”What are you doing, Xichen?” Mingjue asks with a gruff voice as he slinks away from the meeting the first chance he has.
”What do you think?” he asks back.
Mingjue’s jaw grits for a moment. ”They’re just Wen-dogs,” he hisses. ”Why would you bother?”
”You would kill innocents so callously, da-ge?”
”None of them is innocent!”
”Then there should be nothing to worry about, should there?”
”I’m not worried!” Mingjue sputters.
Xichen hums, draws Shuoyue, and speeds away, not bothering to cover up his smirk as he hears Mingjue swear and then follow him.
The camp is in a sorry state, with bodies lying here and there, twisted into terrible, unnatural shapes, bleeding from their qiqiao. The smell of resentful energy hangs heavy in the air, covering the back of his mouth in a bitter film.
”Do you still not believe?” Mingjue growls, pushing a body to its back with his boot. ”These are all Jin guards, obviously killed by Wei Wuxian.”
”Where are all the Wen?” Xichen wonders, raising a hand to shield his eyes from the pouring rain.
”You still worry about them?” Mingjue asks, exasperated. ”Isn’t this enough?”
Xichen shakes his head. ”No, I meant…if this was a camp to hold a sizeable group of Wen cultivators, where are they? All I can see is a couple of sheds and a dozed dead Jin. Something about this isn’t right.”
He ignores Mingjue’s huff and sits down, pushing away the unpleasantness of mud and rain soaking into his robes, and draws his qin.
”You can’t be serious!” Mingjue exclaims.
Xichen closes his eyes and starts to play the opening notes of Inquiry.
Who are you?
Jin Bao.
Do you know what happened to you?
The demon in black killed us. He killed all of us!
Xichen sighs and pinches his lips together in a tight line.
What is this place?
A labor camp for the Wen prisoners.
How many cultivators were her in total?
All of us. Lianfang-zun only accepted cultivators as guards.
With a gasp, Xichen’s eyes blow wide.
”What? What is it?” Mingjue asks with a hand on Baxia, looking around with suspicion.
He shakes his head, and plays again, with more urgency,
No. How many of the prisoners were cultivators? Or soldiers?
None.
”No!” he breathes, looking around, horrified. ”No, that can’t be—”
”Xichen, you’re not making any sense—”
Who were the prisoners then?
No answer. He pushes more spiritual power into the music and for once, he doesn’t care if it’s painful for the lingering spirit or not.
WHO. WERE. THE. PRISONERS?
Civilians. Elderly. Women. Children.
The answer drags, more than telling the dead know it’s supposed to be a secret.
”Da-ge, we’ve been betrayed,” Xichen whispers, looking at his oldest friend with anxious eyes. ”They were civilians, all of—”
A spirit slams into him with way more force than it’s supposed to be able to, screaming into his mind and tearing the strings with so much force that they nearly snap.
MY CHILDREN! WHERE ARE MY CHILDREN? THEY TOOK MY CHILDREN! I NEED TO FIND MY CHILDREN—
He tries to respond but more voices tear into him, swaying him in place.
WHERE IS MY BABY—?
POPO? POPO, WHERE ARE YOU? A-HUI IS SCARED—
MY CHILDREN—
POPO—
A-YUAN—
BABY—
”XICHEN!!”
Someone grips his arms and shakes him and he opens his eyes with a startled gasp, blinking through rain and tears at Mingjue’s wild look. ”They took—oh Heavens, da-ge—babies, I don’t—”
”What?”
He fumbles with his robes to the giankun sleeve where he stores at least one emergency flare nowadays and with trembling fingers, shoots it into the sky. The restless, panicked spirits of the dead—no, murdered Wens still swirl around him, tearing into him and his qin, trying desperately to find their loved ones.
”Why did—Xichen, what the fuck is going on?!”
He grabs Mingjue by the collar and yanks him closer. ”Do not let ANYONE in, da-ge! Unless it’s someone we absolutely trust!”
Mingjue looks taken aback. ”What if it’s Jin—”
”Especially if it’s a Jin,” Xichen whispers.
Dead do not lie. They cannot, not when they’re questioned via Inquiry.
And especially when they’re questioned by someone of Xichen’s skill and power.
A-Yao—Jin Guangyao had been in charge of the guards in this camp—this camp of civilians and elderly, this camp where they’d taken children and—
Xichen is going to be sick.
There needs to be a full inspection. The dead need to be interviewed properly, with several senior disciples and preferably Uncle supervising. All of the rest camps need to be inspected as well—Xichen has a sinking feeling this won’t be the only one holding civilian prisoners.
He takes a deep breath and starts to play.