Teen Project to Change the World - Chapter 37 - animeloverhomura (2024)

Chapter Text

Chicken. Salt. A crunch of greens.

A mouthwatering smell wafted through the air.

“Seriously? For free?” someone asked.

“Uh huh. Apparently they’re with the YunmengJiang Sect, looking for people who have the potential to be cultivators. In exchange for letting them test you, they’re giving out dumplings for free!”

News like that could travel quickly in small towns. Among beggars, it traveled even faster.

A young boy, whose hands had a total of nine fingers rather than ten, looked up. His stomach growled.

“Let’s go!” someone said. The crowd rushed over.

Rumors of this had been spreading for the past few days. 重试, the Chong Shi Union, was a new organization established by the head disciple of the Yunmeng Jiang Sect. Their first buildings had been set up just a few days ago. Word spread quickly after that.

‘It makes sense,’ people had said. ‘Just look how powerful the sect has gotten since the great sleep. Even the Wen seem to be supporting them. That head disciple of theirs… despite who his father is, he’s accomplished quite a bit in recent days. I’m sure they’re simply trying to expand their influence now.’

It made sense to the general public. There were a few elements of mystery, a few sources of intrigue, and it was likely to affect the political balance in the coming years. Everyone wanted to see what would occur.

“Alright! Line up here!”

The purple uniform the speaker was wearing was more than enough to ensure compliance. When the silver bell by their side was added to the equation, it would be hard to find any civilians willing to disobey. As such, despite A-Luo’s youth, he could be tasked with directing people to the back of the line just fine. His sister, on the other hand, was tasked with walking along the line with A-Yu, making sure no scuffles or cheating occurred. One by one, every youth in the town fell into place. The dumplings were being handed out in front of an easily identifiable one story wooden structure. Within the structure, several voices could be heard:

“Are you sure I shouldn’t help out?”

“Positive, Young Master Wei. Please, feel free to keep supervising for now,” Meng Yao said. His hands moved quickly, filling and folding new dumplings at a break-neck pace. Wen Ning scurried from side to side, making more filling and checking to ensure the in-progress ones were still in need of cooking.

“I really think this would be easier with three-”

“Maybe you should go see if the evaluations are going well,” Wen Ning cut in. “I-I know you trained Young Master Wong and Young Lady Xin and-and I’m sure they can handle supervising the test, but you’re still their shixiong, right?”

“Wen Ning, too?!” Wei Wuxian gaped. “You know, I can make dumplings with less spice-”

“What you consider ‘less spice’ is going to kill one of those five year olds. I am not dealing with a corpse tonight,” Meng Yao declared.

(Wei Wuxian was technically his boss and most certainly his superior, but talking to him like this was what worked best. Being overly polite or humble got met with amusem*nt and any flattery got brushed off just as easily. By now, speaking informally had just become second nature.)

“Yao-gege, don’t you think you’re being too harsh?”

“We need to maintain a good reputation for your plan, Young Master. No need to take any needless risks,” Meng Yao declared, chopping onions just a bit faster. The staff and chefs Wei Wuxian had hired would arrive in a few days. For now, Meng Yao and Wen Ning could handle this; there was no need for him to get involved.

And yet, at that moment, a hand started inching toward the ingredients for the filling.

Wack!

Meng Yao smacked it away at once.

“Young Master!” Wen Ning complained, moving to physically block Wei Wuxian off from the ingredients. “Please…please don’t!”

(Meng Yao moved rapidly, quickly moving all the spices out of Wei Wuxian’s line of sight.)

(Yes, both he and Wen Ning knew they were being a little ridiculous. However, anyone who hadn’t tasted Wei Wuxian’s cooking had no right to talk. Spice of that intensity shouldn’t be possible, much less edible! If it weren’t for Jiang Fengmian’s lack of reaction, Meng Yao would have thought the demonic cultivation had killed off Wei Wuxian’s taste buds!)

(Luckily, even Wei Wuxian couldn’t resist Wen Ning’s pleadings for long.)

“Alright, alright.” Wei Wuxian gave in, rubbing dramatically at the hand Meng Yao had smacked. “Fine, I’ll go check on how the tests are going. Call me if you need anything, okay? Especially if someone from the Jin sect shows up again.”

Though Jin Zixun had been sent back quite dishonorably, many of his subordinates had come over in recent days. Wei Wuxian hadn’t figured out yet if they were causing trouble on their own or under his orders, but it was annoying nonetheless.

“Anyways, I’ll be back soon. Keep up the good work!” he said. With that last order, Wei Wuxian reached over, ruffling the hair on both their heads. Both Wen Ning and Meng Yao froze. Right as Wei Wuxian left the room, he saw blush of an identical shade of red on both their cheeks. His laughter only made the color deepen.

The walls of their new base of operations were made of a light pine, the large openings letting in plenty of light. The rooms within the compound were rotating out groups of children, teenagers, and adults, all of whom were asked to take the same test in exchange for the dumplings. Wei Wuxian had designed the test himself, ordering his shidi and shimei to state the questions orally and repeat them whenever asked. A few hypothetical situations would be described, many of which were ones Wei Wuxian had experienced himself. Test answers, on the other hand, could be in both written and drawn form — or even spoken, if that was how the participant wanted to respond. People who would give up hours of the day for a few measly dumplings were likely to be beggars. Assuming literacy was not likely to generate many results.

Wei Wuxian peaked past through an ajar door, getting a glimpse of a test in progress.

“...the merchant then turns to you. ‘Brat, are you the one who stole my goods?!’ he shouts. There is no time to hide or put away the jewelry by your feet. What do you do?” Wong Mifan read aloud, just as Wei Wuxian had instructed him to do. There was a frantic flurrying of hands, many children forgoing the brushes altogether and using their fingers to draw out their responses. Wei Wuxian smiled.

Technically speaking, the test was of almost no importance at all. Neither literacy nor historical knowledge could be expected of the ones being tested and knowledge of the six arts (rites, music, archery, equestrianism, calligraphy, and mathematics) were even less likely to be found. Officially, this test was just a cover-up so that a young boy of the right age with nine fingers could be found. ‘They’re looking for people with the potential to be cultivators’ was just speculation by the public. In actuality, it would have been far more efficient to have built a traveling stall instead. Permanent structures were excessive and a needless expense.

However…

Their job, here, was to guide Xue Yang onto the right path, identifying and saving him so that the future would not come to pass. That was their only goal. The sects as a whole would benefit from it.

(Did the crimes Xue Yang would commit in the future really mean that he was more worthy of receiving help than any other?)

Jiang Fengmian had given Wei Wuxian a substantial amount of funds for this operation. Wei Wuxian had even checked a few times, making sure that he could use everything he’d been given. It was an opportunity like no other.

The test Wei Wuxian had made took a while. It required thought and patience and rewarded creativity. If young beggars were willing to come back and do this day after day for just a few dumplings…

Maybe, eventually, Wei Wuxian could set something up that helped them learn a few things too.

(When she woke up, Jiang Yanli would surely want to make food for the kids herself. Wei Wuxian hoped she would get the chance to.)

‘Shijie will probably want to make them all soup, huh?’ Wei Wuxian thought. ‘Maybe Uncle Jiang and I should pre-order a bunch of bowls for her.’

Though, come to think of it, there was a more important conversation with Jiang Fengmian that Wei Wuxian should probably have first:

‘Wait, Wen Xu has a son?!’

‘W-well, not yet,’ Wen Ning clarified. ‘In the future! In the far-future. That son is one of the kids that initiated the Great Sleep! Remember what you were saying about the traces? About unknown souls becoming attached to some people in the past? That’s them! The souls of the five who did that attached to their parents in the past! One of them was Wen-gongzi’s son!’

Wei Wuxian stared a little longer, eyes wide, then asked, ‘Wait, so… someone who was involved in all this… is my kid?’

Wen Ning nodded rapidly. One of the traces had landed on Jiang Yanli, one on Jin Zixuan, one on Lan Ziming, one on Wen Xu, one on Sect Leader Ouyang, one on his wife, and one on Wei Wuxian. They hadn’t tracked all of them down yet, but the implications of the ones that had been found so far seemed to support Wen Ning’s claim.

‘But… Mo Xuanyu’s signature fused with me,’ Wei Wuxian pointed out.

(Mo Xuanyu was already born.)

(Wei Wuxian was just fifteen.)

‘W-well… maybe it’s more complicated than it seems? Maybe… maybe Mo Xuanyu was just too young or something? So it found someone close to him?’

It was hard to say.

‘Young Master Wei, please focus,’ Meng Yao requested, setting down the small mountain of scrolls he had been carrying. ‘If you want us to finish setting up this office before nightfall we’re going to have to work quickly.’

‘We can talk and work at the same time, Meng Yao. Don’t worry so much,’ Wei Wuxian had said, smiling brightly. He then reached over, picking up two large stone benches and placing them on either side of the hall.

This was the second building they had furnished today, but, even now, Meng Yao couldn’t help but gape a little whenever he saw Wei Wuxian exhibit such casual feats of strength. Hopefully he would get used to being around cultivators soon.

‘Okay, so go on, Wen Ning,’ Wei Wuxian cued, slipping outside to drag in the large central table he’d been storing in the street. ‘Wen Xu and Mo Xuanyu decided to hold off on finding the others with the trace until later, right? And Mo Xuanyu’s giving him instructions on a compass that can detect resentful energy?’

‘That’s what he said,’ Wen Ning confirmed, sweeping the floors. ‘To-to be honest, I’m still confused about most of what they were saying. It seems like it all worked out though.’

Meng Yao hummed, storing the scrolls away on shelves just above a few blank books. The more Wen Ning described the strange conversation, the more Meng Yao wished he’d gotten to hear it for himself.

‘Maybe we should go looking for her… for the to-be mother,’ Meng Yao suggested. ‘Even if not now, that seems like information that will be valued later.’

‘We can, but that might take us a little while,’ Wei Wuxian pointed out. ‘I hired the townspeople around Yunmeng, Qinghe, and Lanling to make us a bunch of these buildings. They’re not too complicated, so all the groups managed to finish faster than I’d expected them to. We’ve got a lot more furnishing to do.’

Meng Yao and Wen Ning both winced, looking around the large, dusty hall.

‘How… how many?’ Wen Ning wondered.

‘Thirteen more! Fifteen in total!’ Wei Wuxian responded with far too much cheer, ducking under the table to sweep out the dust it had brought in.

Neither Wen Ning nor Meng Yao could say anything in response.

‘Oh, don’t worry so much about it. Isn’t it more fun to be out and about than to stay behind a desk all day?” Wei Wuxian asked. “Trust me: this is good for you two!’

Wen Ning couldn’t help but feel like his sister would probably agree. Resigning himself to his fate, he picked up the broom again and got back to work. Meng Yao, meanwhile, just gave a short, disbelieving laugh. This wasn’t really what he was expecting when he agreed to work for Wei Wuxian.

Still, despite the building’s large size, it was at least pretty plain for a construction project funded by a major sect. It consisted of only four rooms — the sect had merely touched up the building that had been here before. High-level strengthening and warding talismans lined the walls but, otherwise, this appeared to be a perfectly normal hall. If all went as planned, the fifteen newly-constructed testing sites would be in perfect condition to test the potential of fifteen towns worth of people.

Officially speaking, at least.

‘...How would you two describe Mo Xuanyu?’ Meng Yao asked, filling up a second shelf with books. ‘He’s a demonic cultivator, isn’t he?’

‘Technically, I’m probably one too.’

‘I didn’t mean any disrespect!’ Meng Yao assured at once. ‘I’m just… surprised it’s as respected in the future as he implied it to be. Do you really think he was being honest about that?’

‘Hm… 70-30 in his favor?’ Wei Wuxian supposed. ‘He knows a lot of people I know and none of them disparaged demonic cultivation. He even brought the future Jiang Cheng to speak to me once! That was wild.’

‘Does he know your future-self, then?’

‘Oh, did I not mention?’ Wei Wuxian glanced back. ‘Apparently my future-self is long dead.’

The broom that had been in Wen Ning’s hands fell to the floor, clattering loudly.

‘Ah, sorry!’ he squeaked, picking it up at once. ‘Sorry. Sorry.’

He… did not love being reminded of the future Wei Wuxian’s fate.

‘...I’m sorry for bringing it up,’ Meng Yao said, turning to face Wei Wuxian at once. ‘I swear I-’

‘Oh, it’s fine, it’s fine. It’s not painful or anything; that’s essentially all I know about it,’ Wei Wuxian revealed. ‘To be honest, I’d almost completely forgotten until now. I should probably ask for more details, huh?’

‘...Probably,’ Meng Yao supposed as Wen Ning nodded rapidly in the background. The person in question gave a lackadaisical shrug, getting back to work. Meng Yao sighed. He had experience working for all sorts of different people. None of them had ever managed to catch him off guard as consistently as Wei Wuxian.

Sweeping hurriedly, Wen Ning wondered aloud, ‘Do you think think the Sect Leaders will know? They’re seeing a lot of the future, right? Maybe you’ll come up.’

‘Maybe. Uncle Jiang has been acting a little strange around me recently,’ Wei Wuxian supposed. ‘Hehe. Shijie was probably pretty excited to see my future self. She’ll definitely tell me about it if I ask her to!’

Wei Wuxian shook himself out of the memory then smiled to himself, content. He would ask Jiang Fengmian about his future self if he had a chance to and, if neither of them had time for that, he would just wait for Jiang Yanli to wake up. She could tell him everything she learned, then.

He hoped his death hadn’t upset her too much.

Well, in any case, Jiang Cheng could surely tell him-

Clink!

Wei Wuxian paused.

The sound had been faint enough that a non-cultivator would have had no chance of hearing it. Wei Wuxian turned in the direction of the noise. It was behind the wall he had just passed, sounding as though it had come from above the one-story hall.

‘The roof?’ Wei Wuxian wondered. He silently stepped out of the building and jumped up. On the roof, Wei Wuxian spotted a small, black-clothed bundle trying futility to sneak across the roof’s clinking tiles. Wei Wuxian watched for several seconds, unnoticed, as the boy’s antics continued. He was small and thin, and Wei Wuxian estimated his age as seven or eight, taking into account the lack of nutrition he’d probably grown up with. Size wise, he was no larger than your average five-year-old, allowing him to pull himself up to a higher level on the delicate tiles without breaking them under his weight. However-

Slip-

Polished smooth as they were, the roof’s tiles offered very little traction. The boy’s hands slipped off them, sending him falling back to the ground far below. For a moment, the boy seemed stunned.

Then, he registered what was going on and let out a scream!

Yank!

His fall stopped abruptly, a mere second after it began. The boy blinked once, realizing he was being held up by a hand holding the back of his shirt. He glanced back.

“Hi there,” Wei Wuxian greeted. “You know, if you wanna climb our roof, I recommend you do it later in the day. It gets misty at night, so the tiles are all going to be too slippery if you try it now.”

The boy paled instantly, realizing he’d been caught. That hesitation didn’t last for long however. He started kicking and flailing at once, trying to get out of Wei Wuxian’s grip.

“Now, now,” the head disciple laughed, blocking all the incoming attacks. “If you flail around too much, you might slip out of my grip and start falling again. Give me a sec.”

With that, he wrapped his arm around the boy’s back and pulled him over his shoulder, jumping off to reach the ground in one easy hop. Once he landed, he held the child out again, wondering if the flailing would resume. Instead, a fearful look was sent his way.

“You’re a cultivator,” the boy observed.

Wei Wuxian nodded once.

“You… are you from the Jiang Sect?”

“I am,” Wei Wuxian confirmed.

“What do you want from me?”

Grinning, Wei Wuxian responded, “I guess, first and foremost, I’d like to know why you were sneaking around up there. Aren’t you a bit young for a career in espionage?”

“I’m eight!” the child protested, swinging at Wei Wuxian. “I don’t need your help! Go away!”

His arms were thin. Far thinner than they should be.

“Have you had a chance to get some of our dumplings yet?”

The boy paused for a moment, desire filling his eyes. Even now, the smell of Wen Ning and Meng Yao’s work inside spread out throughout the compound. If the boy had successfully continued in the direction he had been going, he would have ended up at the kitchens soon enough. The child’s breaths came out shakily. He swallowed once.

But-

“Let me go.”

“Hm?”

“Let me go!” the boy shouted again. His arms were trembling as he raised them. Not much time had passed, but the swinging he’d done had already left him too exhausted to move.

“Did the line seem too long?” Wei Wuxian asked.

“Put me down!”

“Did you know about the service we’re offering?”

Another swing, even weaker than the ones before, was sent Wei Wuxian’s way.

“Did something push you out of the line? Or did you leave by yourself? We’re not requiring payment, you know.”

“Ha! Like I’d believe that!”

“Oh?”

The boy huffed a few times, already out of breath, but glared just a fiercely as before.

“Adults always lie,” he growled. “And you cultivators always think you’re better than us! Food for free as long as we do a ‘test’ for you? I don’t know what you’re planning, but I’m not as stupid as all of them! I’m not helping you with anything!”

“Alright then.”

“Eh?”

Wei Wuxian set the child down. In his confusion, he didn’t try to run. He simply stared, wide-eyed, as Wei Wuxian reached into his robes and pulled out a bamboo leaf wrapping. As soon as it was unfolded, as sharp smell emanated out.

Spice. Salt. Meat.

“...Dumplings?” the child asked.

Wei Wuxian set the bundle down on the floor, taking one of them and munching away at it happily. The boy stared and stared and stared. Then, Wei Wuxian took another one. Then another.

The child’s mouth watered at the sight.

Finally, keeping his weight back so he could run at a moment’s notice, the child reached forward and snatched one of the dumplings. He brought it close, stared at it skeptically, then bit into it.

He spit it out immediately and threw the dumpling on the ground, coughing heavily.

Silently, Wei Wuxian handed over a small container of water. The boy pushed it away, quickly backing up.

“Did… did you poison this?!”

“Of course not. It’s just a bit of spice; you’re fine,” Wei Wuxian assured him, picking the remainder of the bun off the ground and biting into it himself. “My companions told me we couldn’t give these out to anyone and made me take them all with me. They’re being completely ridiculous, don’t you agree?”

In a few more bites, he finished the bun the boy had just rejected, licking his lips once he was done.

For several more seconds, the child simply stared. There was some chance that whatever had been put into the dumplings just didn’t affect the cultivator across from him. There was some chance, on top of that, that eating the buns would put him into the other’s debt — that this man would demand something in exchange for the food being given.

But…

With every one Wei Wuxian ate, more drool pooled in the child’s mouth. Moving silently, he reached forward to grab another one.

‘If he tries to make me do something in exchange, I’ll kick him in the crotch and run away,’ he assured himself. Then, at least, he bit in. The spice burned, but the taste of actual food after so long was enough to make the child scramble for more.

Wei Wuxian smiled at the sight. His eyes, however, zeroed in on the child’s outstretched hand.

‘A crushed pinky finger,’ he thought. ‘Not as uncommon as it should be. We’ve had a few false positives thus far.’

But the future’s Mo Xuanyu was pretty sure their target had been living in this district at around this time.

The gender matched. So did the age.

“What’s your name, kid?” Wei Wuxian asked.

The boy, cheeks stuffed full with dumplings despite the tears the spice was bringing to his eyes, looked up.

“...Xue Yang,” he admitted once the food had been swallowed.

“It’s nice to meet you, Xue Yang. My name’s Wei Ying, courtesy name Wei Wuxian.”

Twenty years into the future, long after Xue Yang’s death, a pair stepped onto a flat ledge. Under the afternoon sun, the rocks of Qishan seemed to glow.

(If Lan Jingyi was here, he would have complained endlessly about the heat.)

The dark stone reflected light to a near-blinding degree, completely at ends with the fog-filled lands of Gusu. Lan Sizhui’s heavy robes were unsuited for the current climate but, in the name of Lan Qiren, Sizhui refrained from removing the outer layer.

Luckily, as the cliff got steeper and steeper, Wen Ning began handling the most difficult parts of their journey. As a fierce corpse, Sizhui’s uncle remained mostly unaffected by the raging sun, able to reach the top without any obvious exertion.

“Thank you, Uncle,” Lan Sizhui said as he was set down. He closed his eyes for a moment and breathed in, tasting the air.

Unlike the Cloud Recesses, high in the isolated, lush forests of Gusu, the land that was once known as ‘The Nightless City’ was surrounded by steep, rocky cliffs and barren plains. The cliffs, as Sizhui had learned once, were originally viewed as a strong defense against enemy attacks, leading many people to gather to start their lives here. The height wouldn’t do much to stop cultivators, of course, but, at the start of Qishan’s creation, the ability to fly on swords had not been discovered yet.

(Even demonic cultivation, something that seemed as basic a part of the world as the Cloud Recesses itself, was only created toward the end of Wen Ruohan’s reign.)

Inhaling the warm air, Lan Sizhui looked up.

‘A cloudless sky.’

(The opposite of Gusu. It was warm. Too warm, in many ways.)

The sun burned bright, practically searing Lan Sizhui’s face. He raised an arm to cover his head.

(Hanguang-jun had the symbol of the Wen Sect branded onto his skin. From what Sizhui had heard, Wei Wuxian used to, too.)

A breeze swept by but only brought more heat, nearly scalded Sizhui’s skin. Meanwhile, Wen Ning stood to Sizhui’s side, looking down on what seemed to be the leftovers of a wooden shack. Sizhui looked down as well, taking note of the faded paint from years past. The sight didn’t seem to match the expression on Wen Ning’s face. Even subdued as the corpse’s facial movements had to be, the small smile on his face was easy to see. Upon noticing Sizhui’s inquisitive gaze, Wen Ning looked toward him and his smile widened even more.

“There used to be a stall here,” he explained. “It was right at the outskirts of the main road, so everyone coming to and leaving the Nightless City would pass by. I don’t remember it all that well, but, according to my sister, I got separated from her one day when I was three. I’d gotten distracted by something or taken the wrong turn. The stall owner noticed me wandering around and gave me some food until A-Jie managed to find me. I’d loved the buns here ever since.”

Wen Ning couldn’t eat anything now, much less this. As Lan Sizhui looked down on the few remaining boards and twigs, he felt a strange feeling come over him.

‘The stall owner surely fled Qishan before the war reached here. Leaving that aside, Sect Leader Lan and the former Sect Leader Nie were always against taking non-Wen civilians as prisoners. If the owner is dead now, it probably isn’t a direct result of the war.’

And yet…

‘There were people here. People who lived here, selling buns day by day.’

The thought was obvious. Laughably so.

‘There were people here whom Uncle Wen loved — people Xian-gege lived with for years.’

Slowly, Sizhui turned his gaze toward the large, towering pile of stone in the distance. Once, it had been the palace at the center of Qishan. Sect Leader Wen had lived there. The Sect Leader’s sons had lived there. Lan Sizhui’s father had lived there.

Wen Ruohan’s actions had turned it into this.

‘Father,’ Lan Sizhui thought, internally wincing at how that word sounded in his head. ‘Wen Xu… Young Master Wen…. What were you thinking when Wen Ruohan did all this? Would you have changed your actions knowing how this ends?’

(And what about the other version — the one in the alternate timeline Sizhui had created? What would that Wen Xu do now that he knew?)

The heat of the sun weighed heavily on them.

The pair walked forward, journeying past the charred remains of what was once the greatest city in the world. Some might have looked at this and felt saddened by the loss. Others, having grown up with stories of the Sunshot Campaign, might cheer. Though Sizhui could understand that on a conceptual level, he, despite standing here now, just felt distant from it all.

“Uncle?” Sizhui called out. “Did you… know anything around this section? Did you know anyone on this street?”

As if having expected the question, Wen Ning nodded once, pointing a little behind them at a small clearing without any traces of the buildings that might have been there once.

“A small garden was put together by some of the children around here,” Wen Ning explained. “Aunt Qian let them use her yard. They were even growing some medicinal herbs. I went to pick some up for A-Jie every once in a while.”

“Really?” Lan Sizhui asked, giving the patch a closer look. “And what about that area?”

“There used to be a library over there.”

“What about there?”

“A weapons smith,” Wen Ning said. “I actually got my bow made by that shop owner’s son.”

Lan Sizhui’s eyes seemed to sparkle a little as he took everything in.

However, the further up they went — the closer to the main buildings of the Wen Sect they got — the less Wen Ning had to say.

“What about here?”

“There was… well, I suppose there was a restaurant over there,” Wen Ning admitted, pointing a few charred buildings down the block.

“Did you go there often?” Sizhui wondered.

“No, no. Young Master Wen — Wen-er-gongzi, Wen Chao, not your father — liked to go there often. I… tried to stay away.”

“...Ah.”

Further questions went much the same way:

“A brothel Wen-er-gongzi liked to visit was near here.”

“Wen-er-gonzi was in charge of the divisions that went this way-”

“This is fairly close to his favorite bar, so-”

All the way through to the palace.

“The sect did its training here, right?” Sizhui asked. “You must have come here often.”

“No, I actually did most of my training in one of the branches with A-Jie,” Wen Ning said. “We’re distantly related to Wen Ruohan, so it wasn’t that hard for A-Jie to keep me away.”

(Wen Chao knew him by reputation, but, at the archery competition, had to ask someone for his name. That was one of the few interactions they’d had; Wen Qing had done a truly impeccable job of keeping him safe.)

(Until the war, at least.)

(Wen Ning wished he’d been able to do the same for her.)

“We only came here when we were summoned,” he continued. “Wen-er-gongzi aside, she desperately wanted me to avoid Wen Ruohan’s gaze.”

Because Wen Ruohan had started a war, massacered thousands of cultivators, and destroyed countless sects in a mad bid for gaining more power than he already had. He was evil.

(They said that about the Yiling Patriarch, too.)

Lan Sizhui paused for a bit, staring blankly at the once-towering sect walls which now laid directly in front of him, and asked, “I know you… tried to avoid him, but… what did you think of Wen Ruohan? Before the war started; back when he was just your sect leader.”

Wen Ning paused for a few seconds, not hesitant — mostly just unsure of how to answer. So many of his thoughts on the man were based on things that happened after the war began.

But from the beginning-

“He scared me,” Wen Ning admitted. “I mostly knew him by reputation, but A-Jie had met with him a few times. She always seemed so tired when she came home.”

They walked up the palace steps, taking care to not step where the stone had caved in. Weather had worn it down over decades and bandits and thieves had long since looted the palace for everything that was left. Anything that had been in the treasury belonged to the remaining Great Sects now.

(The experience had when walking through the city was completely different from trying to fly overtop. Hanguang-jun had been right when he’d suggested they travel by foot.)

“Oh, look! Over there. On the rocks!” Wen Ning called out abruptly. “The clan’s symbol is still engraved there.”

And indeed, there it was: a large carving of the sun etched into the stone. It had faded somewhat over the years, but the shape was still easy to recognize.

“I once saw the Sect Leader there, I think,” Wen Ning recalled. “A conference was held. Wen Ruohan wasn’t pleased that day, though, so A-Jie took me away pretty quickly.”

Lan Sizhui took the sight in, trying to envision what his grandfather might have looked like standing there, that day.

“...Was he often mad?”

That seemed to fit his reputation, at least.

“Maybe?” Wen Ning supposed. “Or… frustrated might be a better way to describe him. Whenever I saw him, he always seemed annoyed at what the people around him had done.”

Wen Chao had been a frequent source of frustration. The rest of the sect, too. At that time, the Wen Sect had been a force roughly equivalent to the other four great sects combined. The Nightless City’s population had been equivalently gargantuan. Life there was very different from life in Gusu.

Reaching a flatter area of the trek up, Wen Ning and Lan Sizhui passed by a pile of rubble containing a much lighter wood than the rest of the city. Beech, as Wen Ning recalled.

“There used to be a medical office, here,” the fierce corpse explained. “The few times I saw him… Sect Leader Wen was only ever happy when A-Jie had accomplished something new.”

“Huh?” Lan Sizhui turned toward him, gaping just slightly. “Oh. I…”

He paused for a moment longer.

“...Really?”

“Yes,” Wen Ning nodded once more. “I didn’t see him much, but he often came personally to see what she had done. That was always stressful for A-Jie.”

Wen Ruohan had never cared about whether he was making her uncomfortable. Her research, on the other hand, was of the highest priority.

Even now, Wen Ning still didn’t really understand why Wen Ruohan had started the war. The incident with the Xuanwu of Slaughter was inevitable, given who Wen Ruohan had left in charge. The sect’s embarrassment during the archery competition was more of the start, but that wasn’t fully right either.

Wen Ning stepped up the last step, reaching an area with the shattered remains of what had once been Wen Ruohan’s throne. The Sect Leader’s seat was barren now, the barely-identifiable structure left shattered and useless. All the paintings that had lined the walls were taken or burnt to ash decades ago.

Wen Ning had never once been able to look up and meet his Sect Leader’s eyes.

As he looked down now, the throne he had feared so strongly appeared brittle and frail.

(If someone else had been sect leader, would the Wen Sect still be around? Or would they have met their end even sooner, the great power falling to the foolishness of someone like Wen Chao instead?)

(Though, come to think of it, he wasn’t Wen Ruohan’s only son.)

“Your father-”

He cut off.

Lan Sizhui glanced over, waiting for Wen Ning to continue. The fierce corpse made a meaningless show of clearing his throat.

“Your father was…”

A pause again. If Wen Ning still possessed a living body, he would have been fidgeting like mad.

“Young Master Wen, he… isn’t someone I knew very well,” Wen Ning admitted. “I was scared of him, too. He always seemed a lot like Wen Ruohan.”

Though Wen Ruohan himself, from what Wen Ning had heard, never seemed to agree.

“Wen Xu was the one who led the attack on the Cloud Recesses, wasn’t he?” Lan Sizhui asked.

“He was,” Wen Ning agreed.

“He burned the sect down, killing Zewu-jun and Hanguang-jun’s father in the process, right?”

Wen Ning nodded once more.

“...Do you know why?”

After a moment of hesitation, Wen Ning was forced to confess, “No. I didn’t know him personally.”

(The Lan sect didn’t know him that well either. Wen Xu only occasionally spoke at conferences, much better at holding his tongue than Wen Chao had ever been. He hadn’t even been at the archery competition that led to the attack. He wasn’t involved in the Xuanwu of Slaughter incident either. If he was offended by the Lan, it was only indirectly.)

“...Wen Ruohan ordered him to,” Wen Ning said. “He might have not needed more reason than that.”

The answer was based on conjecture, speculation, rumor, and reputation. Lan Sizhui knew that what he’d been told was far from a complete answer. However, right now, it was probably the most accurate picture anyone could give.

The Wen had been powerful and great.

Some people in Qishan had been kind.

Some of the Wen were not.

The people here had been people, just like with anywhere else.

They weren’t people Sizhui knew, however.

‘The remnants of the Wen Sect who helped raise me in the Burial Mounds… those people are family. Uncle Wen, Xian-gege, Uncle Wen’s sister, Hanguang-jun — those people are family to me.’

And Wen Xu, who had done things Sizhui couldn’t possibly agree with — who felt like just as much of a mystery as before?

‘If I… have a chance to get to know the version of him in the other timeline, I don’t see any reason to turn that down. I’d like to speak with him, at the very least.’

However-

“Uncle Wen?” Sizhui said.

As he looked over, the unbearably hot sun of Qishan pressed down upon Sizhui, feeling completely alien when compared to the serene, fog-filled lands of Gusu.

(It was quiet here. Despite the lack of people, there were far fewer animals in Qishan than there were around the Cloud Recesses. It was quite different from home.)

Did Sizhui want to know more about the Wen? Certainly. He wanted to know more about the bun seller who took care of Wen Ning, the auntie who allowed children to use her home as a garden, the young boy who crafted Wen Ning’s bow — he wanted to learn about Wen Qing, “Granny Wen,” “Uncle Four,” and everyone else Wei Wuxian and Wen Ning had mentioned to him.

The people who had once lived in this palace, so separated from the rest of the world, didn’t hold his interest anywhere near as much.

And thus, smiling brightly, Lan Sizhui looked up at Wen Ning.

“I think I’m ready to go home,” he said.

And, at those words, the fierce corpse finally seemed to relax. He nodded once.

“I’m sure Hanguang-jun and Wei-gongzi have been missing you,” he said.

If Jiang Yanli heard the name “Wei Wuxian” spoken aloud one more time she was fairly certain she was going to cry. It would be a rather poor reaction to have considering who she was surrounded by, but, after everything they had seen together, the gathered crowd wasn’t likely to comment on that.

Either way, that didn’t stop her from sucking in a breath of air when the world darkened anew.

Black was all that could be seen. For a moment, it seemed like the simulation hadn’t yet begun. However, over time, the watchers’ eyes adjusted to the low level of light, allowing them to see Wei Wuxian’s exhausted form. He sat on the hard, cold stone of the demon slaughtering cave, barely seeming to register Wen Ning and Wen Qing. His eyes gazed emptily, unseeing and lifeless.

And to think, at the beginning of the simulation, Wei Wuxian’s lighthearted personality and jubilant mannerisms were part of what convinced the Jiang family this might be real. That had been a look at a future Wei Wuxian — one who had already lived through this time — one who remembered having died. No tragedy, no matter how bad, meant one should be miserable forever, but…

‘When he first came back to life, we were able to see his thoughts…’ Lan Wangji trailed off. ‘Despite that… the adult version of Wei Ying was almost identical to his fifteen year-old self. Behavior-wise, they were almost exactly the same.’

While watching that initial flashback, Lan Wangji had gotten genuinely annoyed at the simulated Wei Wuxian. The young Yiling Patriarch had seemed loud, frivolous, crude, undisciplined…

‘A-Xian, you were born with a smiling face,’ Jiang Yanli had said. ‘Always smiling, never minding sorrowful things.’

Wei Wuxian trembled silently, his cut off sobs making his shoulders shake.

‘No matter what situation you’re in, you can always be happy.’

The cave’s resentment seemed to tremble in despair.

Wei Wuxian was joy in its purest form.

How could they — how dare they — lower him to this?

Wen Qing and Wen Ning made eye contact once more. Then, as silently as the flap of a butterfly’s wings, Wen Qing knelt by Wei Wuxian’s side. There was a flash of silver.

Suddenly, Wei Wuxian toppled over.

“...Huh?” he asked.

“What?” Jiang Cheng asked simultaneously, straightening up.

Wen Qing looked down at Wei Wuxian softly, seeming regretful and yet resolute, too. Slowly, she combed her fingers through Wei Wuxian’s hair, brushing it to the side.

“I’m sorry,” Wen Qing muttered, pulling her hand back.

Under normal circ*mstances, Wei Wuxian would have been able to dodge her attack easily. However, just now, he had been caught completely off guard. Confusion covered his face, a mix of disbelief and blatant shock quickly beginning to take over.

That look was shared amongst most of the watchers. The doctor in question, however, merely closed her eyes, breathing out slowly.

(If her other self was doing this, then, in all likelihood…)

“What are you doing?” Wei Wuxian asked, watching Wen Qing and Wen Ning get up. The siblings exchanged a glance then turned back to Wei Wuxian to bow once.

It was a solemn salutation.

“Qing-guniang?” Jiang Yanli asked. “What are… what do you think-”

“What are you going to do? Just where are you going?” Wei Wuxian demanded, his voice growing frantic as he struggled to make his paralyzed body move. “Tell me!”

“When you woke up, we were in the middle of discussing this. I think we’ve come to a conclusion,” Wen Qing said.

“Discussing what? Stop this nonsense! Take out the needle — let me go!”

‘The Yiling Patriarch’s been paralyzed, but he’s not completely powerless,’ Jin Guangshan thought. ‘Unlike spiritual cultivators, most of Wei Wuxian’s powers can be activated with his voice. If they plan on handing him over as a peace offering, they’ll surely need to do something about that first.’

Perhaps watching this would give Jin Guangshan a better idea of how to subdue demonic cultivators, should the need arrive.

Yet, at that moment, Wen Ning stood up, his head hanging low. And then, contrary to Jin Guangshan’s expectations-

“Jiejie and I have decided… we’ll be going to Koi Tower.”

“Koi Tower?” Madam Jin repeated.

“We’re going to… give ourselves up.”

“Huh?” Jin Zixuan asked, gazing blankly at the segment. “Wait, but-”

He looked to the side, his eyes landing on Jiang Yanli’s pale, horrified face. Eventually, he looked back at the simulation once more.

“Huh?” he asked again.

“Give yourselves up?” Wei Wuxian repeated, giving a mocking laugh at the absurdity of the suggestion. “How do you plan on doing that? Apologizing? Surrendering?”

Swallowing once, Wen Qing quickly rubbed her eyes and responded, “Yes, more or less. While you were unconscious, LanlingJin sent a few messengers to the Burial Mounds.”

“To say what? Don’t talk one word at a time! Just tell me! Finish your explanation!”

“The LanlingJin Sect wants you to answer for what you did. They’re demanding you hand over the two remaining leaders of the Wen Sect,” Wen Qing revealed. “Especially… the Ghost General.”

A sharp, cold horror fell upon most of the watchers. This wasn’t an unexpected outcome. Jin Zixuan had died — there was no way the LanlingJin sect would allow that to go unpunished.

(The specifics of who was ambushed would have no effect on that.)

Still, Nie Mingjue couldn’t help but frown.

‘Something like this… it must have attracted the attention of every sect there. I know everyone was already suspicious of Wei Wuxian because of the earlier incident, but…’

But now Jin Zixuan was dead. Everyone would assume, without hesitation, that Wei Wuxian had probably cursed Jin Zixun too. It was only natural to demand repayment.

Yet, the more he thought about it, the more Nie Mingjue furrowed his brows.

‘What if Huaisang had been in a situation like this?’

Huaisang? Weak, harmless Huaisang? It was nearly impossible to imagine. Nie Mingjue’s baby brother had barely changed even twenty years in the future.

(Said baby brother was almost a year older than Wei Wuxian.)

‘No one would think Huaisang was physically capable of using such a complex curse, but… but what if? What if someone attacked him after inviting him in as a guest? What if one of Huaisang’s bodyguards killed Jin Zixuan in the confusion? What if the Jin demanded the ‘leader of the Nie’ pay for what Huaisang had to do to defend himself? How would I respond then?’

It was hard to imagine.

It would never happen.

No one would have the gall.

(Jin Zixun was encouraged to ambush Wei Wuxian; none of the great sects would ever dare ambush the Nie. If, for some reason, this had happened to Nie Mingjue or Nie Huaisang, people would have investigated further.)

Nie Mingjue began gritting his teeth together.

‘I could have called for an investigation, right? I could have questioned Zixun about his actions that day. I could have demanded to know why hundreds of people attacked two.’

Except he hadn’t.

Jin Zixuan was dead. The world wanted someone to punish. Wei Wuxian had killed him. According to the Jin, Jin Zixuan’s life was worth two Wen — one of whom hadn’t even been there during the incident. Wen Qing had given Wei Wuxian some of the meager coins they had to buy Jin Ling a birthday present. Because of that, she would die.

‘No, rather than stopping them…’ Nie Mingjue paused, a sinking feeling filling his heart. ‘Wouldn’t I have been a cause? Wouldn’t I be willing to take any chance possible to punish Wen Ruohan’s kin? Forget stopping it — it was probably my suggestion!’

He wasn’t even being blind anymore. It was far too intentional to call it that.

Meanwhile, for several seconds, Wei Wuxian had been silent, slowly coming to terms with what Wen Qing had said. He took in slow breaths, struggling to keep his eyes open. After several more seconds, a look of frustration crossed his face. Still paralyzed from the doctor’s needle, he gradually looked up at the pair before him.

“...I’m warning you two. Get this needle out of me right now.”

It was phrased as a threat. In actuality, Wei Wuxian was all-but begging her as he said this. He had to; without help, there was nothing Wei Wuxian could do. For once, the Yiling Patriarch had no plans or solutions. His first time in the Burial Mounds had been hopeless, but this, now, was…

Jiang Yanli shut her eyes, turning away. There was nothing gruesome there for her to look away form, and yet the sight before her felt like the most unbearable thing they had been shown so far.

Wen Qing, on the other hand, kept her expression tightly controlled, only allowing brief glimpses of emotion to pass through. The doctor breathed in slowly, fully composing herself once more.

“The leaders of the Wen Remnants — that’s us. According to them, if you hand us over, this situation will be considered resolved. I’ll have to ask you to lay here for a little while. The effects of the needle will wear off in three days. I’ve talked to Uncle Four already. He’ll take it out if an emergency happens-”

“You can shut the f*ck up!” Wei Wuxian snapped. “This is already enough of a mess as it is! Don’t add to my problems! Give yourselves up? Did I ask you to do that?! Pull the needle out!”

Jiang Cheng flinched just a little, Wei Wuxian’s shouts catching him by surprise. No matter what happened — no matter what Madam Yu said about his parents or what punishments he was given — Wei Wuxian never got angry like this. Even with Wen Chao it had been a quiet, efficient vengeance. His flute music was always haunting, never raged.

And that, more than anything, cemented exactly how powerless Wei Wuxian felt right now.

Several seconds went by, neither Wen Qing nor Wen Ning moving to take the needle out. Wei Wuxian only became angrier at that, starting to struggle like mad. However, Wen Qing’s paralysis couldn’t be overcome so easily. Wei Wuxian remained where he was, only able to look up at them and scream.

“Do you think this is funny?” he asked. “I’m not in the mood, Wen Qing! Let me go! Right now!”

She gazed back calmly.

“Take it out! If you go there, I’ll just have to save you too! It’s not going to solve anything. Do you think you’ll get something by doing this?! I’m telling you to let me go!”

Neither Wen Qing nor Wen Ning moved to help him up.

And, at last, the futility of his attempts became apparent to Wei Wuxian. The anger vanished from his gaze. His breaths hitched. When he spoke next, it was agony that could be heard most clearly:

“Why… why are you going to Koi Tower?” he asked. “I wasn’t the one who cursed Jin Zixun.”

“But they’ve already decided it was you.”

Nie Mingjue flinched back. Jiang Cheng clenched his hands into fists. Nie Huaisang merely glanced to the side, his gaze landing upon Jin Guangshan’s form.

(The man’s expression had a certain kind of satisfaction layered underneath it.)

“Then — then let’s find the person who actually set the curse!” Wei Wuxian shouted, regaining energy as he finally, finally found a solution. “Jin Zixun’s definitely gone to experts of cursing. The usual method for dealing with curses is to reflect them back on the caster! If we do that, we can then just look for someone with the same curse mark as him!”

Wen Ruohan withheld a scoff. Jin Guangshan hadn’t cared who’d actually cursed his nephew. Jin Guangyao, who’d helped Jin Zixun, probably hadn’t cared either. Now that Jin Zixuan was dead, the only one who’d actually care about the caster’s identity was Jin Zixun himself.

(A fact which Wei Wuxian surely already knew, if he was able to think rationally right now.)

And, thus, Wen Qing shook her head.

“There’s no use,” she said.

“Why not?”

“There are so many people it could be — where would you even start looking? Should we set up a checkpoint on every street of every city and make everyone who passes by take off their clothes so we can check?”

“Why not?!”

“Who’d be willing to set up checkpoints for you?!” Wen Qing snapped back. “For how long do you intend to search?! Certainly, we might find them after eight or ten years — but how long do you think those people will wait?!”

Although no one answered that question out loud, similar thoughts sprang into everyone’s minds. Wei Wuxian would have a day, maybe. Two at best; a few hours at worst.

‘Jiang Clan of Yunmeng, Jin Clan of Lanling, Lan Clan of Gusu, and Nie Clan of Qinghe have all taken the lead and burned the Burial Mounds to the ground.’

Perhaps those assessments were overly pessimistic. Even if Wei Wuxian had intended to kill Jin Zixuan, why would that mean they’d massacre the civilians in the Burial Mounds? Something else would have to happen to cause that, right?

(Since when had they needed a reason to kill Wen dogs?)

The more they thought about it, the worse the situation seemed.

“But….” Wei Wuxian floundered, unable to accept that. “But there’s no rebounded curse mark on me!”

“During today’s incident, did they ask you?”

Wei Wuxian froze.

Jin Zixuan did the same.

“...No,” he admitted.

‘The former Sect Leader Jin spoke with Jin Zixun, suggesting to him that the banquet could be used as an opportunity to kill Wei Wuxian, meaning… meaning Sect Leader Jin wouldn’t have to welcome him to Koi Tower after all.’

“Right, they didn’t ask,” Wen Qing confirmed. “They simply prepared to kill you. Do you understand now? They don’t need any proof. They don’t care about finding the truth either. Whether you have a curse mark on your body doesn’t matter at all. You’re the Yiling Patriarch, the King of the Demonic Path. You specialize in dark curses; it wouldn’t be strange at all if you didn’t have a curse mark on you. Besides, you wouldn’t even have to do it yourself. You could have gotten one of the Wen dogs, one of your slaves, to do it for you. You won’t be able to deny it.”

No matter what evidence he showed, Wei Wuxian’s guilt would never be disproven.

Jin Zixun scoffed, pointing out, ‘Other than a criminal using wicked means like you, who could have put such a detestable thing on me?’

If Jin Zixun’s ambush had succeeded, what would people have said? Would anyone other than the Jiang Sect have done anything?

(Would the Jiang Sect even have done anything?)

Jiang Cheng swallowed, feeling nausea well up inside of him.

‘If you insist on protecting them, I won’t be able to protect you!’

The expression that had been on his other-self’s face at that moment still lingered in JIang Cheng’s mind, clear as day.

Hadn’t Wei Wuxian been kicked out of the Jiang Sect precisely so that they wouldn’t have to take the fall with him? Now that Jin Zixuan, Jiang Cheng’s brother in law, was dead…

“This is the f*cking worst,” Jiang Cheng hissed.

(Madam Yu didn’t so much as twitch at Jiang Cheng’s crude language. She had been thinking the same thing, after all.)

And so had Wei Wuxian, apparently. He cursed viciously, having no response to Wen Qing’s argument.

“You see? There’s no use,” she declared. “With things as they are, the identity of the one who placed the Hundred Holes Curse is no longer important. What’s important is the fact that hundreds of people were killed at Qiongqi Path and… and that Jin Zixuan was killed by A-Ning.”

Jin Zixuan breathed heavily at those words, forcefully suppressing any other reaction he could have. Of course of course of course he had just made the situation a million times worse. Of course he was the reason everything started going wrong.

Or, rather…

‘And it would be inconvenient for you to have to welcome someone you’d made public enemy number one, huh?’ Nie Mingjue asked.

Jin Guangshan’s response left much to be desired.

“I hate this situation,” Jin Zixuan muttered. Jiang Yanli, standing to his side, gave a solemn nod of agreement.

As for Wen Qing-

Neither the real nor simulated version showed much sorrow right now. They did not cry nor weep; their lips did not tremble with fear. Resignation was clear in Wen Qing brow but determination shone through just as strongly. In the face of that, Wei Wuxian was helpless.

“But… but-”

Wei Wuxian cut off.

“But… even then, I should be the one going. I was the one who made corpses kill people. Why would the knife go instead of the murderer?!”

Wen Ning, as a fierce corpse, had been objectified time and time again. The Jin had apparently held him captive; Xue Yang had done everything he could to break him; beyond being a “Wen-dog,” the Ghost General itself was an “it” to the masses. Wei Wuxian had restored his consciousness, but…

As Wei Wuxian had just admitted, Wen Ning had no control over what had just occurred.

‘Not that Wei Wuxian had much choice in the matter either,’ the real Wen Qing thought.

Either way, blame was irrelevant. Even with Wei Wuxian’s admission of guilt, the simulated Wen Qing and Wen Ning remained unphased.

“Isn’t it better this way?” she asked.

“Better as in what?!”

Because how could anything about this situation be considered good?

“Wei Ying, we both know how the sects see us. Wen Ning is a knife — a knife that scares them, but also a knife they use as an excuse to attack you. If we go then you, without that knife, might finally be able to settle this matter. This entire thing might finally be over.”

Wei Wuxian stared at her in shock. There were no words he could say. Thus, at that moment, he let out a wordless, agonized roar.

Lan Wangji clenched his hands into fists, practically choking on his own helplessness, now.

“At this moment…” Jin Ling read out. “Wei Wuxian finally understood why Uncle would always express extreme anger toward certain things he did, why he’d always say he had a hero complex, and why he’d always say he wanted to beat him up. Watching others take the responsibility onto their own shoulders, insisting on bearing the burden of all negative consequences — it was unbearable for Wei Wuxian.”

Despite how vague such a line must have been to him, Jin Ling spoke those words solemnly and slow. Throughout the entire simulation, the juniors had always been woefully unaware of what their narration referred to. This time, however, there was a notable lack of jovialness around them.

(Last time they had seen Jin Ling, he was stabbing Wei Wuxian in the stomach. Perhaps it was inevitable that this line would impact Jin Ling more than the others would.)

(The watchers were grateful. They weren’t sure they could handle hearing him be cheerful right now.)

“Do you two understand or not?” Wei Wuxian asked. “By giving yourselves up to Koi Tower — don’t you know what will happen to you two, especially Wen Ning?! Don’t you love your brother more than anyone else?”

“Whatever happens to him will be what he deserves.”

Jiang Yanli’s mouth dropped open.

“Wen Ning doesn’t deserve it at all,” Wei Wuxian argued. “I’m the one who-”

“Anyways, we should have been dead long ago. These remaining days we’ve had have been nothing but a blessing for us,” Wen Qing said.

Wen Ning nodded once.

As called upon, Jin Ling elaborated with, “Wen Ning was always like this — agreeing or nodding along to what others said, never objecting. Wei Wuxian had never abhorred his nod and docility so much.”

“No. You’re wrong!” Wei Wuxian protested, shaking his head. However, in response, Wen Qing merely knelt down before him.

*Thwack*

She flicked Wei Wuxian’s forehead once, the action scolding and affectionate and unnervingly calm.

It was too calm. She was going to die. Her brother was going to die. And yet all she showed right now was acceptance.

When Jiang Yanli exhaled next, her breathing was shaky and unstable. Her own saliva felt acidic on her tongue. Initially, Wen Qing’s interest in the simulation had been the result of one thing and one thing alone: Wen Ning, her brother, who had been turned into a fierce corpse by Wei Wuxian. She had been willing to do anything to keep him safe from them.

The scene taking place right now should have been so far from who she was that there was no chance of it being true.

Unfortunately, as with all things in the simulation, the plausibility of this scene was exactly what made it hurt so much.

Wei Wuxian opened up his eyes again, having shut them during the flick. His eyes were watery, shining even in the cave’s dim light. Wen Qing, meanwhile, allowed her smile to turn into a business-like sternness once more.

“I’ve said what I had to say, explained things, and said farewell. Then, goodbye.”

“No-”

“No!” Jin Zixuan shouted, unable to hold himself back anymore. “No. No, it was my… you shouldn’t have to-”

“Zixuan,” Madam Jin said once. Her son stopped.

The tone of his mother’s voice had not been angry, telling him that he should not defend his own killer. It had not been scolding either, telling him to compose himself in front of the current crowd. The ‘Zixuan’ she had called out just then had been tired.

Hopeless.

Resigned.

Him protesting now wouldn’t change the situation. No matter how awful it was — no matter how much they hated it — there was nothing they could do.

There was nothing Wei Wuxian could do either.

Standing up, Wen Qing continued, “I’ve never said anything like this before. But, now that we’re here, there are indeed a few things I should say. I won’t have another chance after this.”

“Shut up-”

“I’m sorry. And, thank you,” she said.

And, with that, she and Wen Ning left. Casually, quietly, with little to no fuss at all.

Jin Zixuan sucked in a breath of air.

Jin Ling had faced Wei Wuxian again, scoffing, ‘Let me tell you — don’t think I’ll be grateful just because you saved me! Don’t expect me to say anything cringe-worthy either!’

In response, Wei Wuxian had smiled sadly.

‘Young man, there are two cringe-worthy phrases that must be said no matter what,’ he revealed.

‘Which two?”

‘'Thank you,’ and ‘I’m sorry.’’

Did Jin Ling even know Wen Qing’s name? If he did, did he know her as anything other than a filthy Wen dog? Did he know she was executed for Jin Zixuan’s death despite not having been even remotely involved?

“She wasn’t even there,” he muttered.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fiar.

It still was, however. And that was the thing that was most unfair of all.

“Wei Wuxian lied there for three days.”

The simulation changed. It was brighter now, the sun having moved through the sky until it was directly facing the enterance of the cave. Without the narration, it would seem like only a few hours had passed.

Wei Wuxian had been lying there helplessly for far, far longer than that.

Lan Wangji felt sick at the mere thought.

Then, without warning, there was a twitch. Wei Wuxian’s fingers had moved just the slightest bit. His eyes lowered, handing on his hand. Physically speaking, that was the most response he could give right now. It didn’t remain that way for long.

His fingers moved first. Then his wrists, his arms, his legs, his neck…. Wen Qing was an unmatched doctor. Her technique had been trained to perfection. Within ten minutes of that first twitch, Wei Wuxian was able to stand up once more. He was out of the cave mere moments later.

For a brief moment, Madam Yu expected the simulation to jump forward to Wei Wuxian arriving at Lotus Pier. She wasn’t consciously aware of that expectation. However, as seconds passed with Wei Wuxian frantically stumbling through trees, she found herself growing more and more impatient. She wondered why it was taking so long — why it wouldn’t just show his arrival at the sect.

Except, the moment Wei Wuxian got to the bottom of the Burial Mounds, he paused.

‘Where… do I go now?’ he wondered, breathing heavily.

The sky was growing darker, clouds moving to cover up the sun.

‘The Burial Mounds?’ he thought. ‘...No, I just came from there.’

He blinked.

‘Lotus Pier?’ came next. ‘I haven’t been there… in over a year.’

Jiang Cheng winced.

Madam Yu, standing behind him, gaped just slightly at what she had heard.

(Wei Wuxian had been kicked out of the Jiang Sect, just like she’d wanted. That was part of why, now, he had no where he could go.)

A strange need to smack her past-self filled Madam Yu’s head. It wasn’t possible — wasn’t even logically consistent — but she felt the desire nonetheless.

Jiang Yanli clenched her hands into fists, staring resolutely at the simulation even as her eyes watered with tears.

(Right at the end of the last segment, Wei Wuxian had fallen back, buried his face in his hands, and asked for someone — anyone — to tell him what to do. No one had an answer back then. No one had an answer for him now.)

Just as Wei Wuxian had said, there was nowhere he could go.

‘Koi Tower?’ he thought next.

“No,” Jin Zixuan begged. “Don’t, don’t, don’t-”

The words ‘Koi Tower’ should have conjured a picture of home for him. Instead, all Jin Zixuan could see was a den of conspiracy and danger. If Wei Wuxian went…

The Ghost General had been chained up, locked away, and held captive by someone. Jin Guangshan had been one of the few people Wen Ning remembered from his capture.

A chill ran down Jin Zixuan’s spine.

‘It’s already been three days,’ Wei Wuxian acknowledged. ‘Even if I go now, Wen Qing’s corpse and Wen Ning’s ashes will be the only things left.’

We Wuxian stood still, staring blankly at the sky.

(If the Jin had truly been motivated by fear and suspicion, rather than greed, Wen Ning would indeed have been just ashes by then. However, as they all knew, even thirteen years later that wouldn’t be true.)

As such:

“In that moment, despite how big the world was, Senior Wei suddenly felt like it had no place for him at all.”

Lan Sizhui’s words stabbed straight into Jiang Cheng, leaving him gasping for air. He stumbled back, not even having realized he was standing, and fell into his chair.

‘If you insist on protecting them, then I won’t be able to protect you!’

‘Then there’s no need for you to protect me! Just go!’

The air seemed suffocating for an instant. A moment later, a sharp, cutting laugh resounded throughout the room. Jiang Cheng’s throat burned, letting him know that sound was coming from him.

‘At… the very least… the Wen siblings….’ He paused, swallowing once. ‘I need to bring back their ashes.’

Jin Zixuan’s quiet, desperate repetition of ‘no, no, no’ got louder and louder.

There was a jump forward in time. Wei Wuxian was now at Koi Tower. He walked calmly, barely bothering to hide his presence. For some reason, sneaking in seemed even easier than ever right now. The outer halls were shockingly deserted, making coming in uninvited a trivial endeavor.

“No, no, no, no, no-”

People would pass by every once in a while, forcing Wei Wuxian to hide, but the high ranking cultivators Koi Tower often had roaming around were nowhere to be found. Wei Wuxian continued moving further inside.

He seemed to have no plan in mind. Madam Jin even noticed him making a few too many turns and walking the same hallways several times. It wasn’t that he didn’t know the layout of Koi Tower, but rather that he didn’t have even the first clue where to look. He roamed uselessly, like a ghost floating through the halls.

The cries of an infant cut through the air.

“Who… A-Ling?” Jiang Yanli asked. “Is that… then that’s-”

Wei Wuxian turned.

The cries were coming from a large, lightless place. Through the open door, the interior could be seen. A large, black coffin rested in the center of the room. Two women in white kneeled before it.

Jiang Yanli was one.

Nie Mingjue looked away.

Nie Huaisang glanced over, slightly surprised. Though Huaiang had looked away quite a few times, he couldn’t recall many instances where his brother had. There was no gore nor mutilation in the sight before them now.

Despite that, it seemed like Nie Mingjue couldn’t help but shake at this scene.

‘Do you blame yourself, Da-ge?’ Nie Huaisang wondered. ‘We’re hardly the most involved parties here, but… I suppose I can’t blame you for feeling that way.’

If the Nie had been people Wei Wuxian felt like he could have gone to — people the Wen felt would be righteous — the tragedy unfolding before them wouldn’t have happened. It was hard for anyone here to watch this unfold.

(Though, strangely, the person who looked least affected right now was Jin Guangshan, the victim’s father.)

“A-Li, you can stop sitting here.”

Madam Jin, the other woman clothed in white, had spoken. She reached toward Jiang Yanli, ready to help her up. Jiang Yanli just shook her head.

A defeated look — so different from the woman’s usual form — came over Madam Jin.

At times like this, Madam Yu couldn’t help but recall how loudly she had proclaimed that Wei Wuxian should have let her friend’s son die. She wondered, now, what sort of face she would have made if Madam Jin had said the same thing about her son.

Nonetheless, Madam Jin attempted once more:

“I’ll stay here,” she offered. “A-Li, you shouldn’t sit any longer. You won’t be able to hold up.”

“I’m fine, mother. I’d like… to sit here for a while longer.”

The two of them had probably already been kneeling there for hours.

(Madam Jin wondered if it was just a coincidence that, at this time, Jin Guangshan was not here. Sect Leader or not, this was just a few days after the death of his son and heir.)

(If Jiang Yanli had died, Madam Jin was certain Jiang Fengmian would have been here.)

Then, at last:

“I’ll get you something to eat,” Madam Jin offered. She knew, clearly, that nothing she could say would convince Jiang Yanli to move away.

Gone were the determined stride and prideful posture that Madam Jin had become known for so many years ago. As soon as she turned away from Jiang Yanli, her mask fell and she began to tremble.

It wasn’t that Jin Zixuan thought his mother would be indifferent to his death. Everything she had ever done, no matter how prideful she seemed at the time, told him that she loved him. Throughout the simulation, every time his other-self’s death was mentioned only reinforced that fact.

And yet, despite that, seeing his strong, unwavering mother like this was still a surprise.

(A surprise that, strangely enough, brought him no comfort at all. Rather than being touched by her concern, all Jin Zixuan could do was wonder why he hadn’t expected it.)

(And then, when his eyes drifted over to the real version of his father, that answer came to him like an arrow to the chest.)

Wei Wuxian, who was watching Madam Jin, frowned just a little. Though he didn’t know her as well as Jin Zixuan, the change in her demeanor was clear to anyone who had met her even once. The Yiling Patriarch clenched his hands into fists.

And the slight, barely noticeable sound generated by that motion was enough to set Madam Jin alert.

“Who’s there?!” she shouted, swerving toward him.

Wei Wuxian looked back at her, eyes wide.

“Everyone!” Madam Jin screamed. “Everyone! Wei Ying — he’s here! He snuck into Koi Tower!”

The hate in her gaze was obvious. Understandably so. Undeniably so.

Yet, when looking at it, the real Madam Jin couldn’t help but sigh.

Wei Wuxian ran. He jumped down to a lower level, hearing a torrent of footsteps bounding after him immediately after. All the while, he didn’t so much as glance as Jiang Yanli.

Jiang Yanli was looking at him though. As soon as she laid eyes on Wei Wuxian, her mouth opened for some sort of call — for some sort of shout, some sort of scream.

Wei Wuxian moved too fast. They cut away before they could hear her say anything.

Jiang Yanli moved closer to Jin Zixuan, her long-standing, ongoing frustration leaking through in the form of a deep, weary exhaustion. Right at the very beginning, they had been told Wei Wuxian would kill Jin Zixuan and Jiang Yanli. For most of this time, Jiang Yanli had been certain that was just abjectly untrue. However, that hadn’t explained the strange guilt Wei Wuxian felt every time Jin Ling or Jiang Cheng mentioned them.

She understood now, why it had happened. There were countless factors you could point to, but, above all else, Jin Zixuan had scared Wei Wuxian in that instant.

‘So what about me?’ Jiang Yanli wondered. ‘They accused you of killing me too, right? I know you would never want to, but…. You haven’t seen me much in the last few years. You heard about my wedding from Lan Wangji.’

It was a point she went back to again and again. Almost more so than anything else the simulation had shown, that was one thing she could not accept.

‘A-Xian… right now… were you scared of me?’

It felt hard to deny, seeing Wei Wuxian fleeing Koi Tower and then Lanling as a whole. Even without his sword, he was not easy to catch. The few cultivators in Lanling lost sight of him soon enough. However, even then, Wei Wuxian didn’t stop trying to run. The trees and forests he passed through all blurred together, making it near-impossible to tell where he was. Even Wei Wuxian probably didn’t know. Nonetheless, at one point, he finally began to slow.

If it weren’t for the fact that the simulation now showed a setting sun creeping down behind the trees, Wen Ruohan would have had no idea how long Wei Wuxian ran. The Chief Cultivator stared with narrowed eyes, watching Wei Wuxian’s shaking form.

The Yiling Patriarch breathed heavily, his eyes gazing blankly at the space before him.

Even without a core Wei Wuxian could run quite fast. However, the same issue he had before arose once more. Right now, there was nowhere Wei Wuxian could go. No one would help him now.

Wen Ruohan closed his eyes, breathing out slowly.

‘I don’t want to watch this,’ he thought.

A childish, ridiculous, illogical notion.

Wei Wuxian shook, breathing heavily a few times more.

There was murmuring to the side.

At last, Wei Wuxian glanced over. Whether he was consciously aware of it or not, the large, bustling crowd outside of the city had probably been part of the reason he stopped. The people there were holding a heated, passionate discussion.

“Ghost General-!”

“The Yiling Patriarch-!”

“Those Wen dogs!”

Perhaps hearing those familiar words had been enough to make Wei Wuxian come to a halt. At the very least, they were enough to make him direct his attention toward the speakers now.

“The Ghost General is truly fierce. He said he was there to give himself up but then suddenly went on a rampage. He went around slaughtering again, this time in Koi Tower!”

“I’m glad I didn’t attend that day.”

“He’s a dog trained by Wei Wuxian! No wonder he bites everyone in his path!”

“Wei Ying, though… he shouldn’t have made it if he couldn’t control it. Creating a mad dog without a leash — sooner or later, he’s gonna go through a qi deviation. With the way things are going, I doubt that day is far away. His creations will turn on him, of that I’m sure!”

Wen Ning was an ‘it’ to everyone here. They didn’t use that word to refer to whether Wen Ning was conscious or not during that attack. Either way, he would still be an ‘it’ to them.

Wen Qing sat frighteningly still. Her hands were not clenched into fists, though they had been just moments before. Her stare was as blank as Wei Wuxian’s.

‘Suddenly, he went on a rampage,’ they’d said.

Wen Ning had gone beserk?

Right. Now that she thought about that, she knew that already.

In the far future, Wei Wuxian united with Wen Ning once more. The fierce corpse had been missing for many years, presumed dead. Nails had been stuck into his head.

‘The Sects agreed to force me to hand you and the Stygian Tiger Seal over to them. I tried to destroy the amulet before I died, but you… it was said you’d been turned to ashes by the LanlingJin sect.’

When that was shown, Wen Qing hadn’t known how to respond.

She hadn’t known that she and her brother had given themselves up willingly, all to protect Wei Wuxian. They had been willing to die for him.

(Wen Ning had not died.)

(What had they done to her brother, those thirteen years?)

Wei Wuxian had then raised two fingers, bringing them to the center of Wen Ning’s head. A moment later, the world changed. Lan, Nie, Jiang, and Jin cultivators had glared at them — at Wen Ning, whose memories they were seeing — with a cautious, wary hate. Wen Ning had then growled, his muscles tensing up.

‘The Ghost General is going crazy!’ someone had screamed.

Nie Mingjue had raised his saber and leapt forward.

The next thing Wen Ning remembered was being chained up in a cave, the three figures present discussing the progress they had made on him.

And now, as Wen Qing looked on at the crowd of frenzied gossipers surrounding the city gates, she couldn’t help but laugh.

And yet, at the next words spoken, her mad laughter broke off into a pained half-gasp.

“How unfortunate for the LanlingJin Sect,” someone said.

Jin Zixuan had died. That was, objectively, unfortunate. When Wen Ning rampaged, more from LanlingJin had probably died.

“Things are even worse for the GusuLan Sect! Over half of the thirty-or-so victims were from that sect! They were clearly only there to help calm things down!”

Because the Lan Sect was righteous and had a duty to intervene when things went wrong. It was something Lan Xichen had taken pride in his entire life.

Wei Wuxian shook his head: ‘Why would the knife go instead of the murderer?!’

People had died when Wen Ning rampaged. Members of the Lan Sect had died.

Because Lan Xichen had decided to trust those who blatantly coveted that knife time and time again.

“It’s a good thing the Ghost General was finally burned to ash. If not, just the idea of that thing roaming outside, going on rampages now and again, would be enough to give me nightmares!”

Someone spat on the ground, agreeing, “That’s the end all Wen Dogs should meet!”

(The end Wen Ning had not met, despite these claims.)

(A fact Wei Wuxian did not know, given the expression spreading across his face.)

“The Ghost General’s been erased. Wei Wuxian should realize what’s going on by now, huh? I heard many sect leaders have already left to go to the pledge conference! How terrific!”

A chill ran up Jiang Cheng’s spine. It was a feeling he had grown used to over the past few days.

‘Other me, you… you better put a stop to whatever’s going on. Or, or at the very least-’

Jiang Cheng’s hands clenched into fists, desperation filling him.

‘-Don’t make it worse.’

Right now, as Wei Wuxian listened to the gathered crowd’s words, his face turned colder than ice. Even Lan Wangji’s usual demeanor didn’t match the frigid chill now featured on the Patriarch.

‘Of course…’ Wei Wuxian thought. ‘No matter what I do, no one’s ever pleased. When I win, they fear me. When I lose, they cheer.’

(Wei Wuxian had ‘cheated’ to get one third of the prey. Nie Mingjue had simply done as expected.)

‘I’m a cultivator of the crooked path either way. What did those years of persistence mean? What were they for?’

Within that chill, a slow-burning rage began to churn.

The resentful energy passed that feeling along quite clearly. It was unnecessary; Nie Mingjue was feeling like that regardless.

Wen Ruohan’s fingers twitched, the desire to tear out the speakers’ throats growing strong. As it was, he settled for committing their features to memory. If he wanted to find them again, he was certain he could.

Those faces were now smiling wide, laughter spreading across the group. Jeers and condemnations sprang forth, every insult and accusation they could manage thrust onto Wei Wuxian one by one.

“Ha! It’ll be perfect if he spends the rest of his life obediently huddling in that damn mountain of his. If he dares show his face outside from now on? Well, as soon as he’s out I’ll go and…”

“And do what?”

For a moment, there was a pause.

A deep, vengeful grin settled on the faces of more than one watcher there.

Those grins then faltered when their attention settled on Wei Wuxian once more. Now fully in the light, the paleness of his skin and the bags under his eyes became even more prominent than before. The setting sun painted the sky red, but Wei Wuxian’s eyes seemed to glow an even deeper crimson.

Wei Wuxian repeated his question:

“If ‘he’ dares to come out, you’ll do what?” he asked.

The world seemed to be operating in slow motion. Even the animals began to still.

Someone’s gaze dropped to the flute by Wei Wuxian’s side.

“Chenqing — it’s Chenqing!”

That shout was enough. People fled, scattering in all directions. Screams flew into the wind. Their terror was nearly tangible in the pandemonium. Then, raising his fingers to his lips, Wei Wuxian whistled once.

BAM

The three dozen people who had been crashing into each other as they fled slammed against the ground. Several people gasped, the wind knocked out of them, and trembled a little in place.

A deep, deep satisfaction filled both the watchers and the obeying resentful spirits.

“How dare they?!” Madam Yu asked. “Ha. If you’re going to speak such words, you should be prepared for something like this to happen.”

“Huh? What’s wrong?” Wei Wuxian asked, walking forward unhurriedly. “Weren’t you all quite confident when discussing me behind my back? Now that I’ve appeared before you, you can’t do anything but lie on the ground?”

Of course they couldn’t. Of course they can’t. The spirits who had been tasked with holding them down would not let go until ordered to.

Wen Ruohan smirked, gazing down at the fallen fools. Lan Qiren and Nie Mingjue didn’t share his expression, but the emotions the three men were feeling were one and the same.

(At the beginning of the simulation, if they had been shown this scene in isolation, it would have seemed to match the reputation of ‘the Yiling Patriarch’ perfectly. It would have been dishonorable, cruel, and a sign of the corruption demonic cultivation had inflicted upon Wei Wuxian. Technically speaking, these men had never attacked anyone themselves. Technically, they were innocents.

‘That’s the end all Wen dogs should meet!’

That phrase, which Nie Mingjue had spoken a version of no less than a thousand times, now sounded so wrong to him it was hard to fathom.

The one who had said that very same line now stared up with wide eyes, his co*cksure and arrogance replaced by an overwhelming fear. Wei Wuxian walked close, sending a smile down.

“Go on. Talk,” he instructed.

The man opened his mouth to speak but no sound came out. At most, it could be said that a whimper escaped him.

Wei Wuxian stomped down on his face, grinding his boot into the other’s mouth.

“Why aren’t you talking anymore? Go on, Mister Hero. What were you going to do to me?” he asked.

Jiang Yanli felt her eyes water with tears.

‘You know, before we came to Yi City, a lot of people also claimed that the Yueyang Chang Clan’s Chang Ping was killed by Xiao Xingchen Daozhang’s hands. But was that the truth?’ Lan Sizhui asked.

Jin Ling scoffed: ‘All they had were guesses so why are you calling them claims? But just try to count how many cultivators lost their lives to Wei Ying, to Wen Ning — to the Stygian Tiger Seal! These are truths that everyone accepts, that no one can deny!’

‘The Yiling Patriarch is evil.’ That was a truth that ‘everyone accepted’ and that ‘no one could deny.’ As such, even Wei Wuxian couldn’t help but refer to those against him as ‘heroes.’ That wasn’t a phrase he would have used for Wen Chao, even if Wen Chao had said the exact same thing as this person. The Wen were ‘Wen-dogs,’ but the Yiling Patriarch was a demon. Everyone hated him. No one would stand with him.

Wei Wuxian stomped down once more. Blood fell to the ground. Screams filled the air.

Wei Wuxian had broken the man’s nose.

(Wen Qing had been executed. Wen Ning was locked up, experimented on until he became a mindless puppet once more.)

The simulation changed their position. Now, they stood on the city gate’s walls, staring down at the mayhem alongside a horrified crowd. Several reached out, moving for talismans or for their swords or toward the conflict below, but none could bring themselves to act.

‘Good,’ Wen Ruohan thought. ‘You should fear him.’

Jiang Yanli’s tears continued without pause.

‘I wish they could just understand him,’ she thought.

However, at long last, one member of the audience finally worked up the nerve to speak, shouting down, “W-Wei Ying! If you’re so strong, why don’t you go find the sect leaders at the Pledge Conference?! What can you prove by bullying us low level cultivators too powerless to fight back?!”

Normally, Wen Ruohan would have scoffed at such a suggestion. Those who would happily rally against Wei Wuxian if they were stronger now wished to get out of this mess by throwing away their pride. Just a few minutes ago, when they had been celebrating the ‘deaths’ of Wen Ning and Wen Qing, those same people didn’t care that Wen Qing had never once fought against them. Normally, Wen Ruohan would do everything he could to make this reality clear to them.

Right now, however, something else was more worthy of his attention.

“Pledge Conference?” he repeated.

All the sect leaders were taking part?

Nie Mingjue, Jiang Cheng, Jiang Yanli, Jin Zixuan, and the Lans all went pale.

Meanwhile, Wei Wuxian was still focused on the situation at hand. With a single one of his whistles, the speaker was shoved forward, tumbling off the city wall and breaking his legs upon impact with the ground. The man’s screams and wails cut through the air.

Wei Wuxian scoffed, repeating, “‘Low level cultivators?’ What, do I have to tolerate you, just because you’re low level cultivators? If you dare to say such things you should have the ability to shoulder the consequences! If you know you’re insignificant pieces of scum as filthy as ants, why don’t you think before you speak?!”

The man could only whimper once more, too terrified to say anything.

As the silence continued, no one else daring to raise their voice, Wei Wuxian nodded in satisfaction, commenting, “Yes, that’s the spirit.”

He kicked again, this time knocking out a handful of teeth.

Cruel actions. Arrogant, mocking, dismissive words. It almost reminded Wen Qing of how Wen Ruohan usually spoke. Yet, underneath all that, there was a shakiness Wei Wuxian couldn’t quite hold back.

Many of the waters let out a slow breath. What Wei Wuxian was feeling right now wasn’t just resentment, but hate.

Then again, even without any resentment, most of the watchers would probably be feeling the same thing.

(What would Nie Mingjue have done if he saw people celebrating the execution of Huaisang? What would Lan Xichen do if Lan Wangji had never hurt anyone, never done anything but heal and protect, and was asked to die for the sake of an incident he hadn’t been involved in? Would he excuse the words of these men based on the lack of information they had? Would he criticize violence against them based on their relative lack of power? Would he try to play mediator once more and simply watch as his family was mocked?)

(‘He’s a dog trained by Wei Wuxian! No wonder he bites everyone in his path!’)

(If Lan Xichen did manage to hold himself back in such a situation, would the real version of him, right now, be able to forgive himself for that?)

Splatters of blood could be seen on the dirt-covered stones. The victim of Wei Wuxian’s attack was unconscious, now. Wei Wuxian turned toward the crowd, leaving a bloody footprint in his wake.

“You scum were right about one thing,” he acknowledged. “There’s not much meaning in wasting time with you people. You want me to find the major clans? Fine; time to clear up a few things with them.”

With that, he turned on his heel and began to march away.

Not too long ago, the watchers had laughed at the public’s foolishness. Civillians spread rumors and slanderous lies about the Yiling Patriarch — lies which, when compared against the man who cursed radishes to play tag with him and A-Yuan, seemed foolish beyond compare. Everything that had been said about the Yiling Patriarch was ludicrous when you were faced with ‘Xian-gege’ instead.

Right now, however…

The resentment in the air sent their nerves aflame. It felt like sparks were zapping through their blood, making their hearts pound with a mad fever. In direct contrast to that, a thick, heavy cloud seemed to be weighing down on them. The hate Wei Wuxian felt right now was churning within them as well.

Jin Guangshan sucked in a deep breath, in awe of what he felt now. Wei Wuxian had shown this side of himself against Wen Chao, but it had been a long time since they last got to experience it. If Jin Guangshan were to have dominion over this beast, even Wen Ruohan would be no match for him anymore.

(Something in the Chief Cultivator had changed in the last few segments. If things continued at this rate, Jin Guangshan couldn’t be sure their alliance would still hold value once the watchers all got out.)

Right before Wei Wuxian departed completely, he snuck a glance over his shoulder. His eyes fell upon a sign above the city gates. ‘Pledge Conference’ was written front and center on the announcement bored. It stated as follows:

[The LanlingJin Sect, the QingheNie sect, the GusuLan Sect, and the YunmengJiang Sect will now scatter the ashes of the Wen Sect’s remnants above the Clan’s old stronghold, the Nightless City. At the same time, we will now pledge our eternal opposition to the Yiling Patriarch, who has occupied the Burial Mounds and declared himself an enemy of the world.]

In this very same segment, Wen Qing and Wen Ning had sacrificed themselves to save their families, including Wei Wuxian:

‘The leaders of the Wen Remnants — that’s us. According to them, if you hand us over, this situation will be considered resolved.’

Resolved. It was resolved. She had given her life. Her brother had given his freedom. They were ‘dead,’ so the situation was resolved.

(The Jin had invited Wei Wuxian to an ambush in the form of Jin Ling’s hundred-day ceremony. Wen Qing was supposed to be smart, wasn’t she? How could she have fallen for this?)

“Eternal opposition?” Jiang Yanli repeated. “But… but-”

At that moment, Wen Qing felt something hot run down her cheek. The world became blurry, every beam of light distorting as water fell from her eyes.

(At that moment, Wen Qing had no other options. The sects had given her an ultimatum. If she hadn’t gone, their eventual attack would have been her fault.)

(But of course they were still going to attack. Of course they would. Of course.)

“We… we can’t do that.”

“Da-ge?” Nie Huaisang asked, looking over.

“What?” Nie Mingjue gasped out, huffing something that wasn’t quite a laugh. “We can’t do that. Did… did Wen Qing misunderstand the terms of surrender? No, everyone must have known — why would the Wen have given themselves up if not for peace? But then why would we-”

Nie Mingjue cut off, feeling the answer cut straight through him.

(It was because they were Wen dogs, of course.)

(When Jin Guangyao had tricked people and taken their lives, it was dishonorable. It was evil and proved him to be a treacherous snake wearing human skin.)

(‘Meng Yao… let me ask you something. The first time I saw you, did you purposefully put on a pitiful act so that I’d come to your rescue? If I hadn’t stepped in, would you have done what you did today and killed those people?!’)

(Nie Mingjue himself had spoken those words.)

(This, however, was fine. They had invited Wei Wuxian and ambushed him on the way. They had told the Wen to exchange themselves for peace and gone back on their promise a matter of days later. That was all alright though. They weren’t making deals with humans, but with dogs — why would it matter whether they used honesty when dealing with them?)

Nie Mingjue brought a hand to his mouth, feeling nausea rise up in his throat.

(He had done this. He had supported this. He had allowed this — encouraged this!)

He couldn’t look at Wen Qing right now. He couldn’t look at Nie Huaisang or Lan Xichen. Despite everything, right now, Nie Mingjue couldn’t even bring himself to look at Wen Ruohan.

Some ways in front of him, Jiang Yanli fell to her knees.

“It’s not fair,” he heard the young woman say, sobs beginning to bubble up from her chest. “That’s not fair!”

Madam Yu, Jiang Cheng, and Jin Zixuan all looked away, not a single one able to even try to offer her some comfort.

Though Wei Wuxian had long-since vanished from the scene before them, the watchers’ view had not moved to follow him yet. They remained with the villagers, many of whom were still being crushed against the ground by the spirits Wei Wuxian had left behind. They were pale and wide eyed, still waiting for one of them to die any second from now.

(But, despite everything they said, Wei Wuxian hadn’t killed a single one. Injured them, traumatized them, and a smashed their pride into smithereens, but not killed.)

‘Of course not. Why would he?’ Lan Qiren thought, watching with clouded eyes. ‘Even now, Wei Wuxian would never do something like that. They all were simply speaking, not acting. The ones his vengeance should be pointed towards are the ones who went back on the offer they themselves made.’

And, considering where Wei Wuxian was now headed to, that was a confrontation that would happen very soon.

And yet, even as more time, passed, they stayed here. There was a slight jump. The time of day seemed to be the same and no one had gone far, but the people not pinned down had moved a little. A few minutes, maybe an hour, had gone by.

Then, suddenly, a flash of soft blue light passed by. As soon as the sword glare went above the cultivators, those people found they could move once more. They inhaled heavily, the sudden disappearance of the weights on their backs leaving many breathless for a moment.

“I can move!” someone shouted, their elation clear.

A moment later, the sword glare returned to the owner’s sheath.

“Wangji?” Lan Xichen gasped.

Hanguang-jun looked down at the cultivators before him.

Nie Huaisang’s eyes widened slightly and he walked closer, observing Hanguang-jun intently. After a few seconds, he glanced over at the real Lan Wangji before turning his attention to the simulated one once more.

A handsome face and white robes that didn’t have even a spec of dirt on them. Despite the hurry Lan Wangji had just been in, he was still prestine. Hanguang-jun looked more and more like his far future self every time they saw him. However, there was still a fair bit more emotion present in his body language than his far future self had. Rapidly moving eyes that analyzed everything they looked over; a slight twitch of his hand that conveyed the anticipation within; short, quickened breaths unaccompanied by any sweat or signs of physical exhaustion. This Hanguang-jun was worried.

Nie Huaisang tilted his head just slightly.

‘What have you been thinking over the past few days, Wangji-xiong?’ he wondered. ‘Wei-xiong’s had the whole world turn against him. Zixuan-xiong is dead, Wen-guniang and Wen-gongzi were executed, and now our brothers are heading off to attack him. Do you wish you’d said more, back when there was still time for things to change? Do you wish you did what you future self will later do? Even now, you could tie Wei-xiong up and drag him back to the Cloud Resesses.’

(But, after forcing a kiss on Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji had pulled back time and time again.)

‘And what about my future self?’ Nie Huaisang wondered. ‘Have I… thought of anything like that?’

(Both their brothers were at the conference. Both of them could have done something.)

(Neither did.)

“H-hanguang-jun!” someone called out. It was the man whose legs Wei Wuxian had broken not too long before. Lan Wangji walked over to him, kneeling down so that he could examine the man’s legs. He pressed lightly, sending some energy in and gaining information in a way the watchers couldn’t right now.

‘...It was a clean break,’ Lan Wangji observed. ‘He will be back to normal in a few weeks so long as he lets it rest.’

On a cultivator, something like this would heal just fine. Wei Wuxian’s techniques were hard to describe or understand, but that didn’t mean he didn’t know what he was doing. All in all, the only thing he’d done with permanent consequences was knocking out the man’s teeth. A harsh punishment for sure, but not the extent of what ‘the Yiling Patriarch’ should be willing to do.

‘Have I gotten too biased?’ Lan Qiren wondered. ‘At the beginning of the simulation, anyone attacking non combatants like this would have appalled me. These men aren’t responsible for what’s happening to him.’

They weren’t responsible. They weren’t solely responsible, but-

‘That’s the end all Wen dogs should meet!’

Wen Qing had given herself up so that her family wouldn’t be hurt.

The LanlingJin Sect, the QingheNie sect, the GusuLan Sect, and the YunmengJiang Sect will now scatter the ashes of the Wen Sect’s remnants above the Clan’s old stronghold, the Nightless City. At the same time, we will now pledge our eternal opposition to the Yiling Patriarch, who has occupied the Burial Mounds and declared himself an enemy of the world.

When Wei Wuxian had been told to give up his hand to the Wen, he had gritted his teeth and accepted it in order to protect Yunmeng Jiang. He could handle sacrifice; he could give for the sake of peace.

He had just given two of his closest friends up for that very same reason.

And what now? Wen Qing and Wen Ning had just been murdered executed. Was he supposed to just sit back and accept them being called dogs? Lower his head and continue to play nice? Why? Everyone here would only turn on him time and time again.

In his youth, Wei Wuxian had ignored the rules laid out and followed his own judgment instead. Madam Yu would punish him no matter what he did; laws meant nothing, under that. Wei Wuxian was decreed responsible for cursing Jin Zixun just because of who he was. Why shouldn’t he curse people when in a situation like that?

(And yet he hadn’t killed them. He’d held himself back.)

(Who knew how much longer he’d be able to.)

“What have we done?” Lan Qiren whispered, horror settling in.

Meanwhile, the rescued men and women swarmed Lan Wangji in droves, some thanking him profusely, others informing him of the matter at hand:

“Hanguang-jun, you’ve come too late! Wei Wuxian just left!”

Lan Xichen winced a little, watching his brother’s expression gain a terrible kind of desperation.

“Will Hanguang-jun track him down?” someone in the crowd asked quietly.

Another turned to them at once, whispering, “You haven’t heard? They say Hanguang-jun of Gusulan has been searching everywhere for Wei Wuxian over the past few days. He probably wants to settle things — make Wei Wuxian pay for the dozens of lives Gusulan lost!”

At the same time, a third member of the crowd shouted out, “Wei Wuxian’s been gone for less than an hour. If you leave now, you’ll surely be able to find him!”

When Wei Wuxian had first been brought back to life, he had fled Lan Wangji, thinking the other wanted to bring him before the world so justice could be sought. It had surely made sense to Wei Wuxian; several members of the Gusulan sect had lost their lives to him.

Except that he had been paralyzed for the past few days.

Except that the initial battle had been an ambush against him.

Except that the Ghost General, who had “mysteriously” gone on a rampage, was not executed but instead imprisoned so he could be studied as a weapon of war.

The people within the simulation stood tense and ready for action.

“What did he do here?” Lan Wangji asked, his tone firm. “Where is he going?”

The other cultivators rushed to complain:

“He fought with us without any care for honor and nearly killed everyone here!”

“You call that a fight?” Wen Ruohan repeated, skeptically.

Lan Wangji’s fingers twitched slightly, the movement too subtle for the average cultivator to notice, then forcefully relaxed shortly after.

“Oh, and he said he was going to Nightless City! He’s going to settle things with the Four Great Sects!”

Hearing ‘Four’ Great Sects instead of ‘Five’ didn’t bother the watchers anymore. Even the mention of Nightless City — now alight with the torches of those who had wiped them out, rather than the Wen themselves — didn’t trigger much of a reaction out of them. Instead, right now, their focus was centered solely on the impending disaster unfolding before their eyes.

‘Don’t go to Nightless City, Wei Wuxian,’ Wen Qing mentally begged. ‘There’s no point in trying to confront them. Just run.’

Run where? With that many people? For how long? The Sects had already shown they weren’t content to just leave them be.

‘A-Xian, be careful!’ Jiang Yanli prayed.

Now, at last, the simulation changed scenes. There was darkness at first. Then, light.

The moon was high in the sky. It was full and bright, allowing any passing traveler to find their way. There was light coming from below as well. The Nightless City of Qishan was filled with torches and lamps, carried by cultivators from every sect and clan one could imagine.

(Every clan except, of course, then Wen.)

Wen Ruohan’s face remained neutral, a stern, forceful blankness being the only thing anyone would be able to see. However, with every tap of his finger on the armrest of his chair, a bit of qi would snap out like a silent growl of rage.

Jin Guangshan swallowed nervously.

Nightless City had become a symbol for the allied sects. They had beaten the evil Wen once; they could do it again. Right now, it was the flags of their sects that decorated these halls, the hanging banners covering up the suns carved there.

The sight was a strange reflection of what might have one day come.

Wang Lingjiao clapped her hands together in an almost-mocking applause. The woman’s gaze was smug and satisfied, not at all fearing for herself. As they would soon learn, the Wen army right outside Yunmeng Jiang’s gates was the reason for that.

‘Yu-furen, I admire you so much!’ she sang out. ‘We’ll definitely get along after they set up the Supervisory Office.’

It had been a taunt, most likely. While Wen Ruohan would be perfectly happy to make Yunmeng Jiang an office of the Wen, there was no way that proclamation could go down without resulting in a fight. It wasn’t the point of it all, just an excuse.

Yu Ziyuan had taken the bait.

The end result was inevitable. Sect Leader Jiang and Yu Ziyuan were killed. The sect was overrun. The heir was caught and rendered powerless.

(Would have stayed powerless, if not for his head disciple.)

If Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen had been a bit slower to unite the sects — if fewer of the heirs had survived to lead their sects to arms — if Wei Wuxian had not come back from a death trap, bringing with him a weapon no sect had ever come even close to before, Wen Ruohan probably would have redecorated the Jiang, Lan, and Nie Sects with flags of the burning sun.

It was only fair of them to repay that in kind. Wen Ruohan exhaled heavily, shutting his eyes.

‘Look. This is the result of the choices you made.’

Would anything have actually changed, if Wen Ruohan had won? He would have more control over the other sects. He would get to stop them from making so many thoughtless, illogical choices when it came to the treatment of their disciples.

‘Would that really be worth losing A-Ying to the Burial Mounds?’

Wen Ruohan had decided to risk it all.

(He’d lost it all as a result.)

And now-

The simulation brought them closer, showing the prominent sect leaders at the center of the crowd. Jin Guangshan, Nie Mingjue, Lan Xichen, and Jiang Cheng gathered around a laquered table, raising their glasses in a toast. To the side, Jin Guangyao directed servants to ideal positions. Torches brightened, making the sect leaders even more prominent than before.

“Tonight, the LanlingJin Clan-”

“-the QingheNie Clan-”

“-the GusuLan Clan-”

“-the YunmengJiang Clan-”

“-and all other clans here stand united,” Jin Guangshan declared. “No matter the sect — no matter the surname — this cup of wine is in honor of the soldiers who have died.”

“May their souls live on,” Nie Mingjue agreed.

“May they rest in peace,” Lan Xichen added on.

Jiang Cheng didn’t say anything, merely maintaining a darkened expression as he filled his cup with wine.

“To our heroes!!!” the crowd shouted as one.

Jin Zixuan had not deserved to die. His death could be treated as a tragedy. However-

‘Hero?’ Zixuan mentallly repeated. ‘What, the guy who lunged at the victim after inviting him into a trap?’

And what about everyone else? They all had gone into this knowing they were ambushing his guest. No one even had a reason beyond ‘Wei Wuxian is the only one evil enough to do this.’

Unable to hold it back, he scoffed under his breath.

(Both Nie Huaisang and Lan Wangji glanced over at him, paused, then looked away, not having anything helpful to say.)

At that moment, Jin Guangyao returned. In his arms was an ornate black box, decorated with silver. Jin Guangshan took it without hesitation. It wasn’t a slow, ceremonial hand-over, nor was it a delicate hold. Not the sort of behavior that was typical if the box contained treasures or artifacts or gifts, especially from Jin Guangshan.

Nie Huaisang bounced over, trying to take a closer look.

And then, holding the box with only one hand, Jin Guangshan raised it into the air.

“Here lies the ashes of the Wen Sect’s remnants!”

Jiang Yanli went pale and Jin Zixuan flinched back, reaching down to clutch at his chest where his future-self had been attacked. Because yes, he had been attacked.

But-

…

All of the watchers, without exception, found themselves looking back at Wen Qing.

“Several days ago, about a hundred cultivators and… my son, Jin Zixuan… were murdered at Qiongqi path.”

“Scatter their ashes!”

“Scatter their ashes!”

“Scatter their ashes!”

The crowd was riled up, filled with hate.

Horror spread across many of the watchers’ faces. Madam Yu was among them, furrowing her brows at the shouts. However, a moment later, she righted herself, quickly calming down. Part of Yu Ziyuan was tempted to scoff at her own reaction.

(Yes, those people were celebrating the deaths of the Wen. However, wasn’t this a far more honorable send-off than what she and her husband got? Jin Zixuan was actually dead — the Jiang had never done anything permanent to the Wen. Wang Lingjiao had tried to slap her when she was already a corpse, her and her husband’s cores having been crushed.)

(So why did this feel so much worse than that?)

Golden light enveloped the box like a flame, Jin Guangshan’s spiritual energy surging in. For a moment, as the golden power danced around the box, the simulation overlaid another image on top.

“Qing-guniang?”

It was her, just as Jiang Yanli had said. She was bound tightly to a post, her hair being the only part of her still able to move. Wind blew it to the side, making it flow in the same direction as the growing field of fire by her feet.

It was an execution.

Wen Qing’s execution.

Nie Mingjue clenched his teeth together, having to force himself to watch. Lan Xichen felt his hands begin to tremble.

The two of them couldn’t see their other-selves in this image, but knew they almost certainly were there. At the very least, they would have been able to prevent it, if they so pleased.

‘Wei Wuxian and Wen Ning had been at Qiongqi path.’ No one had ever suggested Wen Qing was there.

‘I’ve heard Wen Qing’s name a few times before,’ Lan Xichen had said once. ‘I do not remember her having participated in the Sunshot Campaign’s crimes.’

Nie Mingjue had been uncompromising: ‘If she responded with only silence rather than opposition, that’s the same as indifference. She couldn’t have been so naive as to hope she could be treated with respect while the Wen Sect committed evil without suffering the consequences once the Wen Sect was wiped out.’

Jiang Cheng had remained silent, refusing to speak up.

The Sect Leaders there had all agreed: Wen Qing had never hurt anyone and had never done anything wrong. She was being punished for not stopping her family.

(Lan Xichen probably just hadn’t wanted to argue against it. Not when Jin Zixuan had just been killed.)

(Nie Mingjue’s grudge was likely still going strong. That was enough for him to encourage this.)

Both Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue were letting her burn alive for that.

(It was truly pointless.)

Wen Qing knew that, surely. The simulation moved closer to her, the heat of the fire unfelt by the watchers yet burning nonetheless. The doctor’s skin was shriveling, the fire scalding her ankles and eating away at her flesh, muscles, and nails. She would die soon.

And yet, in that moment, she did not scream. On the contrary, Wen Qing simply shut her eyes, a look of acceptance coming over her.

As Jiang Yanli watched, she felt her eyes starting to water again. The immense light from the fire was unrelated to her reaction; her thoughts were the true cause. As more and more flesh melted away, Jiang Yanli felt nausea rise up within her.

How could Wen Qing’s executioners just stand by and watch this?

(Was there anything Wen Qing could have done to avoid this fate?)

(There most certainly was: if she had never saved Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng, the allied sects would probably have lost the war. She might still be alive, then.)

The vision of Wen Qing’s execution disappeared. The flames became Jin Guangshan’s energy once more and the box, containing her ashes, became overwhelmed soon enough. In a dramatic spectacle, the box shattered into a thousand pieces!

Wen Qing’s ashes were swept away by the wind.

(The crowd roared in triumph.)

Wang Lingjiao and Wen Chao would have done the same thing watching Madam Yu and Jiang Fengmian’s ashes get scattered. The Wen Sect as a whole would have loved that.

They hadn’t managed to do that.

(Wen Ning had betrayed his sect and retrieved their ashes for Jiang Cheng. Wen Qing had risked her life to help him.)

And now, in the audience of this spectacle, Jiang Cheng did nothing to stop it. Wen Qing’s ashes were blown into the distance.

Jiang Cheng looked down.

Neither Nie Mingjue nor Lan Xichen’s expressions wavered at the sight.

The real Nie Mingjue cursed. Lan Xichen felt Lan Wangji’s gaze drifting his way, but couldn’t look up to meet it.

As far as everyone in that audience knew, both Wen Ning and Wen Qing’s ashes had just been scattered. A deafening cheer spread throughout the hall.

Jin Zixuan felt sick. He could taste bile in his mouth. The ashes scattered terrifyingly quickly. He could not look at Wen Qing right now. Neither, it seemed, could Jiang Cheng or Jiang Yanli. They all-

“Da-ge?” Nie Huaisang suddenly asked.

“...Yes, Huaisang?” Nie Mingjue asked back.

“Even for a scattering of the ashes, there’s… a lot of people here,” the Nie heir observed. “They described it as a ‘Pledge Conference,’ right? They said we would ‘Pledge our eternal opposition to the Yiling Patriarch,’ didn’t they?”

And with the usage of ‘we’ instead of ‘they,’ it was hard for anyone to immediately disregard that. Wen Ruohan’s gaze fell upon Nie Huaisang once more, waiting to see what was to come.

“Da-ge,” Nie Huaisang began again. “Everyone seems quite well-armed, don’t they.”

Not a question.

There was no need for it to be a question. The implication was obvious.

(But this wasn’t a hypothetical. These weren’t strangers. This was them. Yes, Jin Guangshan was in the lead, but they had no obligation to follow along. This was the pure Lan Xichen, the righteous Nie Mingjue, and Wei Wuxian’s own former shidi Jiang Cheng.)

(They had brought the best combatants in their sects here.)

Before he had even consciously registered the implications, Jiang Cheng whispered a quiet, desperate, “Please no.”

Jin Guangshan raised his hand, silencing the crazed crowd.

“Tonight, we scattered the ashes of the two leaders of the Wen Sect’s remnants.”

Every chair in the room trembled, Wen Ruohan’s annoyance taking physical form.

“And tomorrow-” Jin Guangshan continued.

Jin Zixuan looked away, unable to watch what his father would say next.

“Tomorrow it will be the rest of the Wen dogs and the Yiling Patriarch, Wei Ying!”

If the cheer before had been deafening, this one that occurred at those words was indescribable.

(Wen Qing’s ashes could no longer be seen.)

Nie Mingjue looked down, again feeling as though he was going to throw up. Lan Xichen was pale enough to be truly mistaken for a statue made of jade. Madam Yu and Wen Ruohan looked ready to kill the next person that made a sound. Madam Jin looked hopeless — Jiang Yanli and Lan Wangji were consumed by rage.

And Lan Qiren?

Well-

‘The leaders of the Wen Remnants — that’s us,’ Wen Qing pointed out, explaining the sect’s demands. ‘According to them, if you hand us over, this situation will be considered resolved.’

‘Considered resolved.’ So long as the unwilling knife and an innocent bystander accepted death, the rest of their family would not be punished for what had gone on. It was not fair. It had happened regardless.

When the near-future flashbacks had first begun — when the Wen had attacked the Jiang and the Lan — there was someone clearly responsible for the evil that had occurred. Wen Ruohan was rallied against and fought in the name of justice.

Wen Ruohan was dead now.

And yet evil remained.

(The past Lan Qiren, who had let go of all decorum to shout at Wei Wuxian over the inherent immorality of demonic cultivation, suddenly flashed into the present Lan Qiren’s mind.)

Torches, bows, and blades were raised high. A mob several thousand people large shook the ruined courtyard with its deranged cheer.

“Kill the demon! Make sure he’s dead!”

It didn’t take long for those words to become a chant shouted by every cultivator gathered in the foreground there.

How funny. Jiang Yanli was not a violent girl. In fact, she had often been criticized for the exact opposite. Her plainess, lack of presence, and weakness were faults everyone knew about.

‘So it’s that plain Jiang Yanli,’ a boy in the Cloud Recesses muttered.

“Kill the demon! Make sure he’s dead!”

Yet, right now, a small, barely-acknowledged part of her couldn’t help but imagine what it would feel like to bring this army down — to crush each and every cultivator here and slam them into the ground just like Wei Wuxian had done to a crowd just a few minutes before. They would be pressed against the stone tiles underneath them. Gradually, she could add more and more pressure. Eventually, they’d probably pop.

If she squashed them like bugs — if Jiang Yanli taught them true fear — would they still dare to try and hurt her kind, sweet, selfless brother?

(No. She’d make them unable to do that.)

“Kill the demon! Make sure he’s dead!”

Her future-self’s husband was dead.

(Her current fiance seemed to be thinking the exact same thing as her.)

(Of course he was. It wasn’t really their fault. They were used to resentful energy being a controlled power used and manipulated by demonic cultivators. It was a natural force too, however. In the destroyed ruins of Qishan, which now had a sea of people practically salivating at the thought of blood, a thick layer of resentment had formed.)

It was disgusting.

All the cultivators there were painting Qishan red. Some did so with their shouts and screams and resentment; others, with the blood of the Wens that stained their hands.

(Some of those Wen had deserved to die.)

(Did that make up for the innocent who had been executed just a day ago?)

(Did that make up for the innocents who they were preparing to kill now?)

All the hate there burned red. All their torches burned red. The light left behind by the scattering of Wen Qing’s ashes only increased that effect.

The fire that had burned her had been infinitely worse than the heat given off now.

It was red, red, red, red-

Fweeeeeet

Wen Qing had been looking down, having felt like she had seen more than enough of the sects’ collective madness. However, at that moment, she looked up. Her heart skipped a beat.

That sound hadn’t quite been a flute note. Rather, it was a whistle of wind, the airborne currents twisting unnaturally. At the exact moment, every single fire in the courtyard changed.

Emerald flames cast a green glow across the compound.

A smile stretched across Wen Ruohan’s face.

(Both Nie Mingjue and Jiang Cheng were making the exact same expression.)

Crows circled above, the calling card recognizable to every watcher there. The resentment that had formed in the city, building up bit by bit overtime, settled at once. The once thick-cloud seeped into the ground. It was not quite subdued. Rather, it was lying in wait, ready to spring up at Wei Wuxian’s next command.

Jin Zixuan’s murderer had arrived. His power surrounded the Jin heir’s family and friends.

And, upon realizing that, the boy in question let out a sigh of relief.

“It’s… it’s the Yiling Patriarch!”

“A-Xian!” Jiang Yanli called out.

Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen looked at each other, sharing a grin.

The sects had promised peace, then gone and prepared their armies regardless. If Wei Wuxian had still been paralyzed right now, he and the Wen remnants would have been ambushed in their own homes.

A strategy as dishonorable as the worst of Wen Ruohan’s crimes.

But that future would not come to pass. At that moment, atop one of the tallest towers in Qishan, a voice rang out.

“You claim to be righteous sects. ‘Kill the demon?’ ‘Make sure he’s dead?’ I thought, as sect leaders, you would know better than to go back on your words.”

He looked down. A full moon shone blindingly behind him, casting his entire body in shadow. However, even without having heard his voice, the watchers would never mistake who it was.

Wei Wuxian.

Wei Wuxian!

Wei Wuxian!

Wei Wuxian!

A substantial, nearly-potent relief had spread throughout the watchers.

“A-Ying,” Wen Ruohan muttered, looking up at the moonlit figure with nearly-crazed eyes.

It had been Wen Ruohan’s war that had brought the Wen Sect to the meager few it was now. It had been his carelessness that had turned Wei Wuxian into a demonic cultivator hated by all. This scene right here was the physical manifestation of all his future self’s mistakes.

And yet…

‘Kill them,’ Wen Ruohan thought, his eyes gaining an icy glow. ‘They said you killed three thousand people in one night. Kill them and make them fear you like they once feared me. Show them what it means to lie to us.’

Bloodlust spread throughout the room.

(Jin Guangshan, who had moved to the back some time ago, looked around himself like a skittish animal preparing to run.)

“Wei Ying,” the simulated Jin Guangshan acknowledged. “You…. How dare you show yourself here?!”

Everyone moved to grab onto the hilts of their swords. Jiang Cheng’s pupils shrunk, blue veins lining the back of his hand.

If his other-self moved at all, the real Jiang Cheng was probably going to try to strangle him on the spot.

“Don’t. Do. Anything,” he hissed.

“How dare I?” Wei Wuxian asked back. “Why wouldn’t I dare to? Do the people here even add up to three thousand? Don’t forget that, back in the Sunshot Campaign, I fought against five thousand on my own before.”

Familiar numbers, as far as the simulation went.

‘I heard that he has another evil weapon. The Stygian Tiger Seal!’

‘Yes, don’t forget he has that. Or how he killed three thousand cultivators overnight!’

‘Five thousand if I’m not mistaken.’

It was the silly gossip of civilian townsfolk. It didn’t matter — not really. And yet, upon recalling those words, Madam Yu clenched her hands into fists.

‘You call that being allies? The Jiang raised him like their own, but almost all of them were killed because of him!’

Wrong on both fronts.

Because, just like her son, Madam Yu had never cared what the effects of her words might one day become.

‘Wei Wuxian has betrayed the sect and publicly regards all cultivation sects as his enemy. Yunmeng Jiang hereby expels him!’

It was amazing how easily rumors could spread.

But no one in the simulation cared much about rumors right now. Their eyes were all locked on the figure now eclipsing the moon. As crows circled ‘round and ‘round, the tension in the courtyard continued to rise.

“Jin Guangshan, you said that, so long as they turned themselves in, you would overlook everything that had happened.”

There were no protests from the crowd. Not even a single person gave a shocked gasp. Everyone knew what deal Jin Guangshan had offered them. Everyone had come here nonetheless.

“You should be happy. By appearing here, haven’t I granted your wish? No need for you to come all the way to my home tomorrow to scatter my ashes.”

Jiang Yanli looked down. The Burial Mounds were his ‘home.’ Of course they were; the Jiang Sect was now preparing to scatter his ashes. None of the people there knew what had really gone down on Qiongqi Path!

Except, if they had known, what would it change? They had already shown themselves to be willing to do all this.

Nie Mingjue’s expression went completely blank. If it weren’t for the simulation they were inside, he was certain he would have undergone a qi deviation ten times over.

At that moment, the simulated Nie Mingjue scoffed.

“Arrogant boy,” he muttered.

“A Nie disciple had been killed by Wen Ning as well,” Ouyang Zizhen helpfully piped up.

(So what would it matter how many Wen he planned on killing tomorrow? A dog had killed a human; that was more than enough reason to put them all down.)

In response, Wei Wuxian laughed:

“Haven’t I always been arrogant?” he asked.

(An arrogant person who took one third of a hunt’s prey when they weren’t the kind of person who was supposed to do that.)

“Sect Leader Jin, how does it feel, having to face your own words like this? Who was it that said he’d let this matter go if the Wen siblings went to Koi Tower and-”

“Let’s consider things as they stand!” Jin Guangshan countered. “At Qiongqi path, you slaughtered over a hundred of the LanlingJin Sect’s disciples — that’s one thing. Then, later, you made Wen Ning kill at Koi Tower!”

“Then let me ask you, Sect Leader Jin. At Qiongqi path, who was the one being ambushed? Who was the one ready to kill?”

An almost perplexed expression crossed Jin Zixuan’s face. He looked toward the simulated figure of his father. The man had laid out Wei Wuxian’s crimes clearly: he killed disciples of the Jin and had made Wen Ning attack at Koi Tower.

Not once, in that, did the words ‘you killed my son’ leave Jin Guangshan’s mouth.

Sure, Jin Zixuan was included in the ‘LanlingJin disciples’ category. He was one of the hundred Wei Wuxian had killed.

And yet, not not even bring up his name….

‘You’re not angry at what happened to me, are you Father?’ Jin Zixuan thought. ‘You’re not acting out of a blind rage right now. This war isn’t about me at all. You’re not seeking justice or vengeance. You want…’

Jin Zixuan’s eyes landed on the flute by Wei Wuxian’s side.

(What would Jin Ling think, if someone told him how insignifacnt Jin Zixuan’s death was to the world?)

At the very least, no one in the accumulated army found Jin Guangshan’s words strange. The crowd didn’t falter for a even moment, shouting protests and accusations Wei Wuxian’s way. What Wen Ning had just done was brought up again and again. Alongside that, in regards to Qiongqi Path…

“Even if Jin Zixun did scheme to ambush you first, you shouldn’t have been so heartless as to take so many lives!”

“Oh, of course they already know about that, too!” Lan Qiren scoffed. His short-lived fantasies of Wei Wuxian turning the tide by revealing that crumbled to dust.

“I see.” Wei Wuxian spoke calmly, but the resentment in the city churned with rage. “So if he wants to attack me, he doesn’t have to worry about whether it’s a fatal blow or not. If I die, it’d be my own bad luck. If I want to protect myself, however, I have to think about this and that and not cause harm, unable to damage even a single strand of his hair? In conclusion, you could all launch a siege against me, but I’m not allowed to fight back, is that right?”

It was. It so, so clearly was.

And, as Lan Wangji looked up at Wei Wuxian’s figure sitting under the moon, all he could focus on was how alone the Yiling Patriarch now seemed.

‘Hurry up,’ he begged his future self, his hands shaking just a bit. ‘Please, hurry up.’

But the next voice they heard was not Hanguang-jun’s. Instead, Sect Leader Yao stepped forward to speak:

“You call that fighting back? Those over a hundred and thirty people in Koi Tower were all innocent! If you were fighting back, why did you have to involve them?”

“The fifty cultivators in the Burial Mounds are also innocent! Why are you involving them?”

A man in red robes laughed, asking, “Just what great kindness have the Wen-dogs done for you? To have you side with scum like that.”

“In my opinion, there wasn’t any great kindness at all! He just thinks he’s a hero for fighting against the entire world. He just thinks he’s a great person, doing an act of justice that risks everyone’s condemnation!”

Wei Wuxian fell silent at that.

As did Jiang Cheng.

His eyes fell on his other self. The future’s Sect Leader Jiang kept his gaze on Wei Wuxian, not even looking out at the crowd. Just like with the last conference, he didn’t even seem to consider mentioning what Wen Qing and Wen Ning had done for him. The sound of rain began to play within Jiang Cheng’s mind. Drop after drop came down, the noise reaching a deafening crescendo. And yet, despite that, the words his other self had once said remained clear:

‘Why?! Why?! Why?!’ Jiang Cheng shouted, his eyes going feral as he squeezed Wei Wuxian’s neck with all his might. ‘Why did you save Lan Wangji? Why did you have to speak up?! How many times have I told you not to stir up trouble?! Not to strike? Did you really want to play the hero that badly? Well, have you seen the result of you playing hero? Are you happy now?!’

Happy doing what was right, even if it seemed impossible?

‘Attempt the impossible — that’s our motto, A-Cheng,’ Jiang Fengmian had once said.

And yet, when Wei Wuxian did:

“I’ve never met a creature as evil as you!”

The crowd continued to roar.

“How dare he come here now? Has he no shame?”

“A monster like him can’t be reasoned with.”

One man stepped forward, looking directly at Wei Wuxian as he shouted, “When it comes down to it, you were the first to act when you placed a curse on Jin Zixun!”

“Do you have any proof I was the one who placed the curse?”

“I…. Then-then do you have any proof you aren’t the one who placed it?!”

“Nonsensical,” Wen Qing cursed, the word coming out more harshly than any insult the dirtiest tongues could put together.

Wei Wuxian smiled at the blubbering man, his eyes gaining a sharpness the resentment adored: “Then let me ask you again — why couldn’t it have been you? Do you have any evidence to prove you weren’t the one who placed the curse?”

“Me? How could I be the same as you?”

Although he wasn’t the one who said it, for a moment Nie Mingjue felt like his other self might as well have uttered those very same words.

“Don’t mix black with white! We’re nothing alike,” the man asserted. “You’re obviously the most suspicious. Do you think we don’t know? Everyone’s aware that you and Jin Zixun have held animosity toward each other since a year ago!”

(Except Wei Wuxian hadn’t even recognized him when he’d appeared.)

(Not that anyone here would believe that.)

Lan Wangji’s cold gaze fell upon the gathered crowd. He truly hated conferences. Even his future self apparently refused to participate in them. These were not the debates of the Cloud Recesses, where every statement would be checked and cross-checked before continuation. This was entirely different — it wasn’t a conversation at all.

And his other self still wasn’t here.

Finally standing up, Wei Wuxian turned to look down at the army before him, asking, “Who’s the one mixing black and white now? If I wanted to kill him, I would have done it a year ago. I didn’t have any reason to keep him alive until now. If not, I’ll forget such a person in three days, much less a year.”

True, perhaps. But the way it was phrased…

“He’s… saying Zixun’s too insignificant for him to remember?” Jin Zixuan asked. “Isn’t that just going to make this all worse?!”

“They won’t ever listen to any claims of morality A-Xian makes, will they?” Jiang Yanli muttered, not truly phrasing it as a question. “All he can argue with them about is whether he did this specific act.”

(And even that wasn’t going well.)

Exhaling in a half-laugh, half-sigh, Wen Ruohan narrowed his eyes and pointed out, “A-Ying never tried convincing anyone of the Yiling Patriarch’s innocence. After being brought back to life, he simply accepted all the hate the juniors had. Initially, he was going to try to leave the cultivation world altogether. It’s like he’s given up on ever convincing anyone of that.”

And yes, Jin Zixuan was, objectively, dead now, but…

Lan Xichen, Nie Mingjue, Lan Qiren, Jiang Cheng, and Jin Zixuan himself had to hold back from viciously cursing at their other-selves. Madam Yu, Madam Jin, and Wen Ruohan weren’t far behind. The frustration within them turned to bitterness; the bitterness within them turned to hate. Those were their other-selves, yes. They knew now that everything the simulation showed them was what would have occurred — that every action their other selves did would have taken place.

And yet, right now, those people within the simulation seemed like strangers wearing their faces.

(Just a few weeks ago, that had been them. They had judged Wei Wuxian, blaming him for things they hadn’t understood.)

(The hate they felt now made it hard to breathe.)

(And Nie Huaisang, who had been keeping fairly quiet throughout this part of the simulation, hummed in thought.)

However, just as Jin Zixuan had feared, the comment Wei Wuxian made before stirred up the crowd’s anger even more. It was nearly impossible to make any one voice out. The only exception to that was when a sect leader spoke, the people around them quieting down in respect at those times.

Among them…

“...Wei Wuxian, Wei Wuxian.” Sect Leader Yao shook his head, looking shocked. “Today I’ve finally come to see… I’ve never met a villain as unreasonable as you are. Even after killing people, you have to shame your victims with words? Don’t you hold any sympathy? Any guilt?”

There were cheers of agreement all around. A bitter sigh then came from one of the cultivators toward the front.

“Wei Ying, you… disappoint me so much,” that cultivator said. “There was once a time in which I admired you. ‘At least he founded his own sect,’ I’d said. But now that I think back on it, it’s almost repulsive! A sect of demonic cultivators. From this moment on, I’ll forever stand opposing you!”

Upon hearing that, Wei Wuxian nearly exploded with laughter, cackling so hard he wasn’t able to breathe.

It wasn’t a pleasant sound. Jiang Yanli winced.

“You admired me?” Wei Wuxian asked. “How funny. You say you admired me, but I never once saw you during that time. Yet, as soon as I’m loathed by everyone, you jump out and wave a little flag to cheer in support. Your admiration is a bit too cheap, isn’t it?”

Lan Wangji hated politics. He hated these sorts of conferences. He hated the lies and the deception and the flattery. Most of all, he hated this.

“Fine then.” Wei Wuxian seemed to shrug. “Does the fact that you’re standing opposite me affect me at all? Your admiration and your contempt — they’re both so insignificant. How are you not embarrassed to parade them around like-”

*THWACK*

Wei Wuxian stopped.

He looked down.

An arrow was sticking out of his chest.

“Who dares?!” Madam Yu demanded, her voice coming out more harshly than ever before. Every watcher turned in the direction the attack had come from.

A young cultivator stood, staring up at Wei Wuxian, his arm still extended and his bowstring still vibrating from the force.

“I got him!” the cultivator shouted, his eyes lighting up with glee.

Lan Qiren, Nie Mingjue, and Jiang Cheng went even more pale than before. An entire army was there, but no one was trying to stop that cultivator. No one had even considered it.

Wen Ruohan’s spiritual energy gained a level of animosity so intense it could almost be mistaken for pure resentment. Jin Guangshan shuddered at the sight.

The arrow sticking out of Wei Wuxian’s chest was right above his heart. A centimeter down could have been fatal.

‘Especially,’ Wen Qing realized, ‘To someone without a golden core.’

Wei Wuxian was not dead, and yet no one would be able to deny that death had been the intention. It was that cultivator’s lack of skill, not his mercy, that had thrown that shot off.

Wei Wuxian’s skills had never been so dull.

In one smooth motion, he pulled the arrow from his chest and threw it down. The darkness and resentment surrounding him made the air feel thick with hate. The projectile landed with pin-point accuracy.

The young cultivator, whose chest was pierced by the blow, fell to the floor.

“Brother!” another youth to his side shouted, rushing to him. “Brother! Brother!”

Not even Jiang Yanli could look upon this scene with pity.

“He shot him,” Madam Jin hissed, fury clear in her brow and voice. “He shot him. He shot him!”

The ‘he’ in this sentence was not Wei Wuxian.

(Wei Wuxian hadn’t fired the first shot, after all.)

And yet, at that moment, chaos enveloped the crowd. The youth’s sect leader, who had done nothing in response to his disciple’s actions, ran forward, pointing a finger up at Wei Wuxian and shouting with a horrified expression.

“You… you… you’re so cruel!” he accused.

When Wen Ruohan gave a disbelieving scoff, no one even tried to discourage him.

Reaching down to press at the still-bleeding wound on his chest, Wei Wuxian gave an indifferent tilt of his head, asking, “What does ‘cruel’ mean? If he dared to shoot an arrow at me while I was off guard, shouldn’t he have known what would face him if he failed? You all call me a cultivator of the crooked path anyways, so you can’t expect me to be generous and overlook this, can you?”

“No one would overlook this regardless,” Lan Qiren said.

The crowd, however, disagreed.

Ignoring all of that, Wen Qing stared intently, not even glancing at the figures who spoke and instead keeping her eyes locked in on the wound at Wei Wuxian’s chest. Although his robes covered up most of it, the injury was still clearly there.

(And her future-self, the only one who knew Wei Wuxian had lost his core, was literal ashes in the wind by now.)

Shouts and protests continued without rest.

“You see?” Wen Ruohan spoke up, speaking low enough that only Wen Qing could hear. “These are the people you betrayed us to save.”

(Ones who, if Wen Ruohan were in charge, would never dare to speak up in such a way.)

“I betrayed the sect to save Wei Wuxian,” Wen Qing responded. “Even you can’t complain about that.”

Wen Ruohan didn’t respond to her counter, keeping his eyes firmly on the crowd before them. Wen Qing, meanwhile, kept her gaze on Wei Wuxian and Wei Wuxian alone. Neither said another word.

But the simulation did not stop for them. Finally snapping out of his shock, Jin Guangshan turned to his disciples and gave orders at once.

“Set up the battle arrays! Set up the battle arrays!” he commanded.

The was enough to kick the rest of his sect into gear. They began moving at once, rushing to the edges of the hall. Great beams of light shot into the sky a moment later.

Jin Guangshan’s commands were absolute.

“We won’t let him leave alive no matter what!”

“Jin Guangshan!” Madam Yu shouted, turning venomously toward him. Though there was plenty they could have said, neither she nor Jin Guangshan had a chance to respond.

A loud roar filled the air. Thousands of people had drawn their swords and were now running toward Wei Wuxian. The Jin were not the only ones who moved. The Nie unsheathed their sabers, lining up. The Lan pulled back, knocking arrows onto bows and beginning to aim. The Jiang rushed forward, ready to attack.

(They all aimed to kill.)

“You f*cking lunatics!” Jin Zixuan shouted. “Stop it! I’m telling you to stop!”

At Qiongqi path, Wei Wuxian had been ambushed by dozens of individuals. That was a mob that had hunted him down. This, right here, was an army. However, despite the near deafening shouts, all resentful creatures within the region could hear something else loud and clear.

🎵♪♪♪🎵♪

A hand broke out of the dirt, grabbing onto a charging cultivator’s foot and sending him tumbling to the ground.

Wen Ruohan’s eyes went bloodthirsty with glee.

More hands crawled out. Each one was thin and gangly — not from malnourishment, but from rot. The decay on them did nothing to hold back their strength. With unnatural ease, they pulled themselves out of the ground. Horror immediately formed on the faces of everyone there.

The watchers, on the other hand, didn’t even widen their eyes in surprise. They distantly recalled how terrified they had been by demonic cultivation at the start, but, at the current time, not even disgust remained.

The simulated Nie Mingjue ran forward, his saber clashing against the claws of a fierce corpse — of a Wen. Every member of the Wen Sect who had died in the Nightless City rose up once more. Every cultivator from the other great sects who had died in the final battle rose up as well. It didn’t matter what side they had been on; all dead obeyed Wei Wuxian just the same.

♪♪♪🎵♪

A Wen corpse pounced, biting straight through the neck of a cultivator who had, only thirty seconds ago, spat at Wei Wuxian’s name and drawn his blade. He fell to the ground, dead, a moment later.

“Shixiong!” the cultivator to his side cried out.

That Shixiong in question laid on the floor for several seconds. The younger disciple fought off corpses as quickly as he could, struggling to get close. At long last, he managed to get to his senior brother’s side.

🎵

His chest was pierced a moment later. His Shixiong, who he had rushed over to help, had awakened just a moment ago.

This time, as a corpse.

(Wei Wuxian’s army had grown.)

Unnerving though this sight was, every cultivator who had taken part in the Sunshot Campaign was more than familiar with it. The more experienced fighters adjusted at once, continuing their assault. The simulated Nie Mingjue swung his saber, decapitating a Wen corpse on the spot.

Nie Mingjue wondered if his future-self would kill A-Yuan the same way.

Disgust filled him once more. At this moment, looking at his future self filled him with even more hate than looking at Wen Ruohan or Jin Guangyao.

“You called him unreasonable,” Nie Mingjue recalled, breaking into a mocking laugh. “You really think you’re in the right?! You all offered peace while gathering an army!”

His roar was loud enough to nearly knock Huaisang over.

(It was an accusation aimed at the wrong person. Technically, ‘we’ was the correct term to use here.)

(Except that the simulated Sect Leader Nie, looking up at Wei Wuxian with such scornful eyes, felt completely alien to the real him.)

The simulated Nie Mingjue charged forward once more. Fierce corpses were cut down in droves. Within seconds, another corpse’s head was chopped off. This corpse did not fall, however, charging forward once more as though its own head was of no concern.

A few years from now, Nie Mingjue’s own headless corpse would act much the same.

Nie Mingjue sliced an arm off the headless corpse. Its leg followed soon after.

Nie Mingjue would also become just a torso before long.

A Nie disciple nearly lost her arm to a corpse. Nie Mingjue cut it in half. He moved on immediately after, fighting without rest.

“Our disciples are there,” Nie Huaisang observed.

“...They are,” Nie Mingjue confirmed, his voice sounding dazed and slow.

“Why are they there?”

Nie Mingjue blinked once, caught a bit off guard, and looked over. Nie Huaisang stared back at him, eyes lacking the fear Nie Mingjue had been expecting to find.

“Da-ge, in all our fights about my training, you always got most angry when I ran away, right?”

Nie Mingjue could barely process the question he was being asked. He breathed in heavily, slow to respond. Eventually, he nodded.

“Right. You always wanted me to try. Mostly so I’d be safe-” Nie Mingjue nodded again, “-but also because you wanted to make me a righteous cultivator. A hero, or something like that.”

Nie Mingjue had never wanted Nie Huaisang to go quite that far. Even when they were young, it had been clear Huaisang wasn’t that kind of person. Nie Huaisang knew it as well. He would never be like that.

But-

“Da-ge, Wei-xiong was all that. He tried. He tried and tried and tried. He did everything he could to be righteous — to be a hero. He wouldn’t be standing there if all this was right.”

And Nie Mingjue, in this Heavens forsaken future, had brought an army to the Nightless City.

(Nie Huaisang had never been like this — had never wanted to be like this. But to watch someone try and try and yet end up this way…)

Countless arrows flew toward Wei Wuxian, pushed back by the wall of resentment that had formed around him. His eyes burned red from atop that tower. Nie Mingjue, standing on the ground, looked up at him with disgust.

“That is us. You — we — can’t excuse this with just ignorance.”

(Lan Xichen, listening from nearby, flinched.)

Nie disciples fell left and right. They were Nie Mingjue’s responsibility. It was his job to protect them. However, the current situation meant it was impossible for them to all leave alive. Soon, the gaze Nie Mingjue looked up at Wei Wuxian with turned to hate.

And all Nie Mingjue could picture was his other self leading them to Nightless City — to their deaths — without even trying to find out what was really going on.

They numbered in the hundreds, but the section with Nie cultivators was only a small part of the courtyard overall. Dozens of sects had come to this conference. All those sect leaders were now struggling to protect their disciples, fear etched onto their faces.

Which, in Wen Ruohan’s mind, was exactly how it should be.

‘You feared him all this time, but never enough,’ the Chief Cultivator thought. ‘Never in the way you feared me.’

Because, unlike Wen Ruohan, Wei Wuxian didn’t have an army full of cultivators at his disposal. He was a one-man army, but…

Arrows continuously flew Wei Wuxian’s way.

(If another one hit, if it actually speared his heart, this entire battle would be over at once.)

‘A-Ying….’

For a brief moment, Wen Ruohan’s smile disappeared.

If the Wen had Wei Wuxian, they would have won the war. For quite some time now, Wen Ruohan had been certain of that. In fact, if he’d had Wei Wuxian, he might not have started the war at all.

This thought of his went two ways, though.

(If Wei Wuxian had the full strength of the Wen, he wouldn’t now be fighting alone.)

“Protect the Sect Leader!” Jin Guangyao ordered, cutting down a low ranking corpse that approached. “Defend the sides!”

Disciples rushed to follow that command, swarming around Jin Guangshan protectively.

Wei Wuxian continued to stand at the top of the tower, alone. The notes on his flute were powerful enough to send approaching arrows flying back, but individual cultivators needed to be dealt with by corpses instead. Luckily, given the location of the battle, there were plenty of those to go around.

However:

🎝🎶♬

A series of notes played rapidly. They were jarring and unnerving, not in themselves but rather for the fact that they cut through Wei Wuxian’s own song. Chenqing paused. Wei Wuxian looked up.

Lan Wangji descended, his zither still in his hands.

Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen both swallowed nervously. Lan Wangji himself marched forward, standing alert.

The simulation had brought them away from the battlefield below. Now, they stood between Hanguang-jun and the Yiling Patriarch. A heavy weight seemed to rest between them. The zither’s notes had disrupted some of the resentment in the air. Despite that, between the two of them, Lan Wangji looked by far the most affected.

At that moment, neither Lan Xichen nor Lan Qiren could bring themselves to look Lan Wangji in the eyes. They lowered their gazes to the floor, finding themselves watching the senseless battle below instead. It wouldn’t matter either way; the real Lan Wangji’s eyes were fixated on his other self at this point in time.

“Ah. Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian greeted.

The coldness of his voice was harsher than steel.

Lan Wangji looked from the battlefield to Chenqing to Wei Wuxian once more. He stepped forward, as though to approach Wei Wuxian, then hesitated again. The hostility directed at his other-self was easy to feel in the surrounding resentment.

A jar of alcohol was knocked out of the fifteen-year-old Wei Wuxian’s grasp.

‘Lan Zhan! Don’t be so harsh! We’re friends; if you let me go this time, I’ll return the favor next time!’

The battle roared on below. Giving an empty smile, Wei Wuxian raised Chenqing to his lips once more. Hanguang-jun moved his hand toward his zither.

“You should have figured out long ago — the Purification Tone is useless on me!”

With a smooth motion, Lan Wangji flipped the zither onto his back, drawing Bichen from its sheath. His immediate attack was fast and powerful, directed straight at Chenqing as though he wanted to sever the flute in two.

The very first meeting the two of them had was a rooftop fight in the middle of the night.

Guilt pooled in Lan Qiren’s core.

With a simple turn, Wei Wuxian dodged the attack. He had always been like that, his fast footwork making him nearly impossible to get ahold of. The mocking laughter that followed was a cruel reflection of how his voice had once been.

“Fine, fine. I always knew there would come a day when we’d have to fight for real like this. You always detested me anyways.”

‘Hey, Lan Zhan!’ Wei Wuxian shouted, jumping up and down. ‘Look at me! Look at me!’

“Alright, then. Bring it on!”

“Wei Ying!”

A book on p*rnography opened up in front of the second jade. His cheeks flushed bright red.

‘Wei Ying!’ he shouted.

‘Here! I’m here!’ Wei Wuxian cackled.

‘You-!’

The Yiling Patriarch’s mocking laughter cut through the real Lan Wangji’s memory, tearing it to shreds.

“Wei Ying!” Hanguang-jun repeated.

Someone swallowed then cleared their throat.

“Although he shouted the words, Hanguang-jun’s voice was clearly shaking,” Lan Sizhui read out, speaking slowly. “However, right now, Xian-gege had already lost his judgement. He was half-mad, half-delerious. His mind magnified all ill will people had toward him until he was absolutely certain that everyone in the world loathed him. He, too, loathed everyone in turn.”

Jiang Yanli couldn’t breathe.

The battle continued on and on below.

“It didn’t matter who came at him. He wasn’t afraid. It was all the same. Everyone was the same.”

Jiang Cheng’s eyes fell on his other-self, who whipped Zidian around, bringing corpses down one after another. He hadn’t attacked first. Wei Wuxian had gotten his corpses to attack before the Jiang had done anything. It wasn’t his fault!

‘Our disciples are there,’ Nie Huaisang said.

‘...They are,’ Nie Mingjue confirmed.

‘Why are they there?’ the younger had asked.

That question had gone unanswered. Partly, it could be said, because the answer was so obvious. They had come because Jiang Cheng’s brother in law had been killed.

Which happened because Jin Zixun attacked Wei Wuxian.

Which happened because Wei Wuxian had ‘betrayed the sect and publicly regards all cultivation sects as his enemy,’ right?

In the far future, several children had been enacting this very scene. The battle at the Nightless City would undoubtedly be a popular one to play, given how many people were involved. At one point, the boy playing Wei Wuxian had been shoved to the ground, his ‘Stygian TIger Seal’ breaking on impact. With teary eyes, he’d glared up at the other boys.

Two dozen arrows were fired at Wei Wuxian simultaneously, held off only by a thin wall of resentment.

‘Hey! Why did you push me?’ the child had asked. ‘It was all of you against just me! That’s not fair!’

A Jiang disciple snuck up from behind, preparing to chop off Wei Wuxian’s head.

Jiang Cheng couldn’t stand it. He suddenly fell to his knees, gagging and coughing on the floor.

“A-Cheng!” Madam Yu hissed, kneeling down next to him. “What happened?! Are you-”

“Shut up!” Jiang Cheng snapped back, speaking before his mind realized what it was doing. “How can you… how can you be worried about me when-”

“A-Xian!” a voice shouted.

Everyone froze.

Wei Wuxian looked over. A sudden clarity seemed to come over him.

A look Madam Yu understood at once.

(Even if everyone hated him, even if the whole world wanted him dead, the girl who had continued to peel lotus seeds for him despite her mouther’s shouts would never want that.)

But-

“A-Li…” she trailed of. “What… are you doing here?”

Chenqing fell to Wei Wuxian’s side.

“Shijie?” he asked.

Jin Zixuan paled as well.

The simulation brought them down. The battle below was a chaotic whirlwind. Corpses and cultivators fell one after another, dressed in robes of various colors and shades. Every human who died would join Wei Wuxian’s army, making it nearly impossible to tell friend from foe. In that mess, the new Madam of the Jin sect stood alone, looking this way and that.

“A-Xian?” she asked.

“A-Li, you should get out of there,” Jin Zixuan said. “You can’t — it’s not safe!”

(Wei Wuxian had killed her husband. However, just like Wei Wuxian, not a single watcher thought there was any chance of Jiang Yanli wanting him dead.)

The watchers’ positions switched so that there were directly in front of Jiang Cheng. The simulated Sect Leader Jiang threw off a few corpses with a swing of Sandu.

“A-Xian?” Jiang Yanli called out again.

Jiang Cheng went white.

“A-Jie? A-Jie!” He swung again, cutting another corpse to pieces. “Where are you? Where are you?!”

Their view switched back to Jiang Yanli, who was still surrounding by fighting on all sides.

“What are you all doing?!” Madam Yu snapped. “Someone get her out of there!”

Wei Wuxian jumped down from the roof of the palace, running through the battlefield with a crazed expression and shouting, “Shijie? Where are you?! I can’t see you!”

“Hurry up, Wei Wuxian!” Madam Yu urged.

Madam Jin pressed her hands together, worry filling her whole. Wei Wuxian had been involved in the death of Jin Zixuan, but, of everyone here, he and Jiang Cheng were the only ones who would prioritize keeping Jiang Yanli safe.

“Hurry,” she agreed.

Swords and arrows came at Wei Wuxian from all sides. He pushed through with his bare hands, ducking under shots and punching through any swordsmen who got in range.

“Shijie?!” he shouted. “Shijie?!”

“No, no, no, no…” Jin Zixuan mumbled, biting his lip. “Hurry up. Get her out of there.”

Either Wei Wuxian or Jiang Cheng. So long as they got to her-

“But what if…” Jiang Yanli paused, swallowed once, then continued, “What if I can help?”

“How would you help here?!” Madam Yu demanded. “Be reasonable, A-Li. None the stray arrows are going to care how well you cook! Don’t you ever do this!”

But Jiang Yanli, still filled with an anger she had never experienced before shook her head.

“A-Niang, I can’t just let this happen! I can’t do nothing! If I can convince them to stop-”

“No one’s going to stop now!” Madam Yu snapped. “It became too late for words the moment A-Xuan died!”

Jin Guangshan nodded in agreement, adding, “As sad as it is to say, there will be no reasoning with either side now. We’ve passed the point of no return.”

“That point was passed when you let A-Xun try to ambush Wei Wuxian!” Madam Jin snapped back, making her husband flinch. “Ambushing an invited Sect Leader — look at what’s happened because of all that! If you weren’t so-”

“A-Jie?” Jiang Cheng asked.

Everyone looked over.

Wei Wuxian’s eyes were wide. Swords, talismans, and other weapons still came at him from all sides. It was like he was wading through a muddy swamp, unable to move more than a few steps at a time.

Lacking his sword. Unable to fly.

None of that disguised his panic, however. For, at that moment, he had finally laid eyes upon the pure white Jiang Yanli. Her eyes were wide with fear, but her movements were slow and full of exhaustion. Countless people stood between Wei Wuxian and his goal. Their bloodlust was a barely-noticed inconvenience compared to what was in the distance.

Behind Jiang Yanli, a newly-decapitated fierce corpse stood up once more.

“No.” Jiang Cheng tensed. “But Wei Wuxian wouldn’t-”

The mostly-rotted corpse raised a rusted sword. Jiang Yanli still hadn’t turned its way.

“Get lost!” Wei Wuxian ordered. “Get lost right now! Don’t touch her!”

A command of resentful energy. One the watchers were now quite used to.

But…

Kill them — stop them — they want to kill the Wen! They killed you, your brothers — kill him in turn! Don’t touch her! They want the rest of your family now — hate them, hate them, hate them, hate them — kill him — kill her — kill him — don’t touch her! — kill him!

The command could barely be heard. Wei Wuxian’s panic mounted. More and more energy was put into his newest command. And yet…

Kill him — kill him — kill her — don’t kill her — kill him — kill her — kill him — kill him — don’t kill her — kill-

Lan Qiren squinted his eyes shut, the clashing commands grating at his skull. The intention was strong. The power behind that command was immense. However, in this land full of resentment and enemies and threats, asking the legion of corpses to avoid a single girl was nearly impossible.

But, if that was the case-

The simulated Jiang Cheng, upon laying eyes on his sister, felt death come over him.

“Make it go away!” he shouted at Wei Wuxian.

He threw Sandu, but, in the chaos of battle, could only watch as another cultivator’s sword obstructed the path of his own. Wei Wuxian reached a hand out, commanding the corpse again:

Don’t hurt her!

He ducked down, avoiding a saber that nearly took off his head. He shoved that cultivator down.

“Stop!” he commanded.

His voice was lost in the crowd. Three arrows came at him at once.

Stop it.

That went unheard.

Back off!

Nothing responded.

Bit by bit, the resentment became even more chaotic than before. The conflicting commands swirled together, jutting into each other and clashing horribly. Wei Wuxian’s panic grew.

Stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop-

With a gasp, Jiang Yanli fell to the ground, her knees giving out from under her. Nie Huaisang was in a similar position, unable to resist the heavy wave of resentment. Lan Qiren wasn’t far behind.

Wei Wuxian’s panic grew and grew.

As more and more of the commands contradicted, the control Wei Wuxian had over the surrounding creatures lessened. He might have been able to do this if he was calm — he might have been able to do this if the number of corpses he controlled was small — he might have been able to stop this if he wasn’t being attacked every second or so. However, the corpse raised its blade.

“Stop it, stop it, right now — stop it!”

“A-Xian?” Jiang Yanli asked.

The corpse struck down, cutting through Jiang Yanli’s back.

“A-Li!”

“Miss Jiang!”

“Maiden-”

“Miss-”

“A-Jie!”

“Jiang-guniang!” Wen Qing shouted, rushing over to the simulated girl’s collapsed form. She knelt down at once, trying to turn Jiang Yanli over to better see the wound.

Her hands only phased through instead.

A sword glare flashed forward, slicing the responsible corpse in two. Bichen flew back to its master a moment later. Neither Wei Wuxian nor Jiang Cheng had a moment to thank him, however. Both ran forward to Jiang Yanli.

Lan Xichen did the same, not able to spare even a moment to view the expression on his simulated brother’s face.

He’d brought an army here. He hadn’t investigated further before going; he was partly responsible for this. If Jiang Yanli died here-

Jiang Cheng made it there first, picking his sister up in his arms. But, right before Wei Wuxian could reach Jiang Yanli, Lan Wangji grabbed him by the collar.

“Wei Ying! Stop the corpses!” he commanded.

Not even seeming to hear the words, Wei Wuxian simply pushed Lan Wangji away, running to Jiang Yanli immediately after.

“A-Li,” Madam Yu whispered, her voice shaky and confused. The sight of Jiang Yanli on the battlefield had been terrifying for her, but it had been the stray weapons she had truly feared. The thought that one of Wei Wuxian’s corpses would hurt Jiang Yanli…

In the moment, it wasn’t something she’d even considered.

(The resentment’s fear increased tenfold.)

Jiang Yanli’s white robes had been dyed red with blood. Jiang Cheng held two fingers to her neck, checking for a pulse. Short breaths were continuing to come out of her. When Wei Wuxian approached, Jiang Cheng threw a sudden punch toward his face.

“What happened?!” he demanded. “Didn’t you say you could control it?! Didn’t you say it’d be fine?!”

He was right to be angry. He was completely and totally right.

(If he hadn’t brought an army to this event, he would even be justified.)

As it was, not a single person could be happy with what was being shown.

‘I should have stopped him,’ Lan Wangji thought. ‘If I had given him the help he needed — if I’d made sure he didn’t need demonic cultivation to protect everyone…’

His eyes dropped down to where Wei Wuxian’s core should be.

‘...Wei Ying-’

That thought didn’t have a chance to complete, however. Wei Wuxian, thrown back by the punch, stumbled and fell to the ground. His eyes were exhausted and haunted, but his face was frighteningly blank.

“I… don’t know either,” he admitted. “I can’t control it. I just can’t control it.”

Wen Ruohan’s expression darkened. The resentful energy surrounding them was becoming less and less restrained as time went on. It was now a maelstrom, bringing about destruction and death with wild disregard.

(It almost felt like the Burial Mounds had once been.)

It was-

Suddenly, Jiang Yanli twitched.

“A-Jie?” Jiang Cheng called out. “A-Jie, it’s fine! It’s fine. It’s not that bad — just a little gash. It’s not that bad. I’ll take you away from here right now.”

Jiang Yanli’s blood continued to pool on the floor.

“A-Li!” Jin Zixuan clenched his teeth together, kneeling by her simulated-self’s side. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry I-”

Both Jiang Cheng and Jin Zixuan’s words were cut off by a soft whisper from below.

“...A-Xian.”

While Jiang Cheng froze at Jiang Yanli’s voice, Wei Wuxian reacted at once:

“Shijie, I… I’m here,” he assured.

When facing the gathered troops, Wei Wuxian had displayed anger and disgust. Now, for the first time, he showed visible fear.

(If Jiang Yanli cursed at him, that might be enough to truly send him over the edge.)

“It wasn’t his fault, A-Li,” Jin Zixuan whispered. “I’m sorry. I invited him but… I didn’t see what was going on until it was too late.”

Madam Jin frowned and opened her mouth, as though about to object to her son’s phrasing, then closed it again. Right now, accepting his words felt like her only option.

But, of course, their words would never be able to reach the woman herself. Jiang Yanli opened her eyes, the simple act almost being more than she could manage. She looked around then, at last, found Wei Wuxian’s face.

While blame could be debated, it was by Wen Ning’s hand that Jin Zixuan died. If the simulated Jiang Yanli blamed Wei Wuxian, no one would be able to rebuke her for it. Even Wen Ruohan, despite his earlier reactions to accusations against Wei Wuxian, seemed accepting now.

Then, at last, Jiang Yanli spoke:

“A-Xian…. Back then… why did you run away so fast?” she whispered. “I didn’t get the chance to look at you… or say anything to you….”

The resentful energy around them fluctuated, pulsing faster and faster in tune with Wei Wuxian’s racing heart. He continued to look at the ground, not able to meet her eyes.

An equally dirtied and bloodied face — Jin Zixuan’s — overlapped on top of Jiang Yanli’s for a moment.

Jiang Cheng’s mind whirrled in a self-destructive cycle.

‘He killed A-Jie. He killed A-Jie!’

For days, Jiang Cheng had been sure that was a lie. There had been lies before. His own future self had lied before! This one, among all others, couldn’t be true. He hadn’t believed it. Wei Wuxian wouldn’t. Wei Wuxian would never.

‘He killed A-Jie! He murdered her!’

It was a complicated situation, sure. It was hard to deal with. Wei Wuxian had tried to make the righteous choice.

By choosing the Wen over the two of them!

He said he wouldn’t lose control. He lost control! How could he possibly think creating something like demonic cultivation was justified?!

But they knew exactly why.

He shouldn’t have used it here! He could have run away! He always chose to play the hero at their expense!

He’d only come because they’d killed his friends and promised peace.

He should’ve should’ve should’ve should’ve-

Surrendered? Backed off? Run as soon as he saw her? He couldn’t — he couldn’t even control his own corpses right now!

And whose fault was that?

A week or two ago, the watchers had repeated an idealistic mantra almost-unknowingly. “At least nothing can be worse than this,” they’d said time and time again. No one uttered such words now. They didn’t even cross the watchers’ minds. After all, the simulation had proven that things could — would — always get worse.

And yet…

“You killed A-Jie,” Jiang Cheng gasped out, still not-quite beleieving.

Wei Wuxian trembled where he stood, fearing the words that were going to come next more than any others.

“I’m… I’m here to tell you…”

Jiang Yanli coughed out. Blood left her lips.

Wen Qing frowned deeply at that. However, as she examined and re-examined again, her brows began to furrow. Jiang Yanli was not a strong cultivator. She had not been eating or sleeping well in the past few days and her skin had been pale even before the attack. However, the fact remained…

“The Jin Sect’s doctors are reasonably skilled,” Wen Qing recalled aloud, making a number of tear-stained eyes turn her away. “She has some time left. If… if she gets to them before an hour passes…”

It was hard to tell for sure, but-

The resentment surrounding Wei Wuxian shifted once again. It became as thick as the Burial Mounds’ aura had once been. The crimson glow in his eyes was strong, but the intensity fluctuated up and down, displaying fear instead of power.

“Shijie…” he whispered. “Stop… stop talking. I’ll get you out of here right away!”

And yet, at that moment, he seemed scared to approach. The new Madam Jin looked up at him, still trying to speak.

Jiang Yanli looked down at her always weak, always helpless other self, praying that she would last just a bit longer.

‘What does she want to say?’ Wei Wuxian asked himself. ‘That it’s fine? That she doesn’t hate me? That everything’s okay? That she doesn’t blame me for having killed Jin Zixuan?’

Wei Wuxian nearly laughed at the thought.

‘Impossible,’ he was sure.

But then-

“A-Xian,” Jiang Yanli continued. “You should… you should stop first. Stop. Stop them.”

“I’ll stop!” Wei Wuxian assured her. “Yes, I’ll stop.”

He took up Chenqing, placed it on his lips, and began to play. Though his thoughts were panicked and confusing at first, the commands gradually began to align with one another. Little by little, his undead army obeyed.

Jin Guangshan nearly gaped in amazement. He kept forgetting, somehow, how much control this weak, fragile woman had over the Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation.

He would do his best to ensure that information didn’t leave him again.

🎵♪♪🎵

The notes played.

One by one, the corpses stopped.

(One by one, the now unopposed cultivators began to turn their attention to this very scene.)

Lan Wangji glanced over briefly before turning back to the fight, continuing to bring down any corpses that had not fallen yet. Wei Wuxian, meanwhile, walked over and knelt beside Jiang Yanli’s resting form. His hands shook with fear that, if he reached forward, he would somehow hurt her.

(Hurt her even more, that is.)

‘He doesn’t get to look at her like that!’ some part of Jiang Cheng raged. ‘He’s the reason she’s dead!’

And if he hadn’t come, and Jiang Cheng did as he pledged in this very conference and cut off Wei Wuxian’s head, what would Jiang Yanli have said to him then?

‘The Yiling Patriarch Wei Wuxian is dead!’

‘Really? Who killed him?”

‘Who else? His old friend Jiang Cheng, leader of the Jiang Clan.’

Wei Wuxian’s hands rested against the ground, slowly becoming stained with Jiang Yanli’s blood.

Jiang Cheng could feel Wei Wuxian’s blood dripping from his own hands just the same. Nausea rose up in his throat once more.

And yet, at this moment, neither Wei Wuxian nor Jiang Yanli looked at each other with any hate. There was only concern, worry, and love.

(Jin Ling would grow up hating Wei Wuxian.)

“Because he still killed-”

Jiang Cheng’s words never finished. At that moment, Jiang Yanli’s gaze turned to something behind Wei Wuxian. Her eyes widened. With a level of strength she had never shown before, she abruptly sat up and pushed Wei Wuxian back!

SHING

A moment later, a gleaming silver blade pierced through her throat.

“...A-Li?” Madam Yu asked. Her eyes, despite seeing just fine, couldn’t register what had just occurred.

Blood poured from Jiang Yanli’s mouth and throat. Her head went lopsided, all light gone from her eyes. She had been talking just a moment ago; she was a corpse now.

“You bastard!” the person holding onto the blade cried out. “This is for my brother!”

It was the person who had cried over that very first archer — who had cried over someone who’d attacked first, attacked unprovoked, and attacked without forethought or plans.

And yet, because of him-

“Huh?” the boy blinked through his tears, finally registering that he hadn’t killed the right person after all. Wei Wuxian stared at Jiang Yanli blankly. Jiang Cheng, who still held her in his arms, didn’t seem to have registered a single thing.

“An accident?” Lan Wangji muttered, eyes wide. “It wasn't even his mistake. Someone else...”

It was just an accident?

No. This wasn’t ‘just’ anything.

Wei Wuxian’s eyes were as wide as they could go. He looked up.

‘A-Xian.’

Jiang Yanli’s voice echoed in his mind.

And yet, right in front of him, her corpse laid still.

His steady, silver eyes turned red once more.

“Ah!” Jiang Yanli cried out, slamming against the ground. The resentment emanating from Wei Wuxian at this moment was thick and overwhelming, crushing her down. She struggled against it, but lacked the strength to push herself up. Even her brother had been forced to take a knee.

As for her other brother…

Wei Wuxian’s crimson eyes looked up slowly, the heavy resentment around him shadowing the rest of his form.

“It… it wasn’t me…” the boy protested, trembling a little. “I was going to kill Wei Wuxian. I was going to avenge my brother.”

The very same brother who had shot Wei Wuxian to begin with.

“She just threw herself over on her own-”

The boy never had a chance to finish what he was saying. At that moment, Wei Wuxian’s hand shot out and snapped the boy’s neck.

Too easy — too fast. Something that couldn’t even begin to account for what the boy had done.

“A-Xian!” Jiang Yanli shouted. “A-Xian!”

Her protests, as always, would never be heard. Resentment spilled out, the feeling carried with it more clear than it had ever been before.

‘You were born with a smiling face,’ Jiang Yanli had told him once. ‘Always smiling, never minding sorrowful things. No matter what situation you’re in, you can always be happy.’

And yet, right now, the pure hatered carried in the surrounding resentment was overwhelming.

“Demon! Let him go!” Sect Leader Yao shouted, waving his sword.

Wen Ruohan looked his way, the gleam in his eyes promising death if that simulated figure tried anything right now. Madam Yu, meanwhile, could only stare blankly at the simulation. Even without resentment forcing her to remain in her seat, she wouldn’t be able to even think to move.

“You-! Back then, you caused the deaths of Jiang Fengmian and his wife!” Sect Leader Yao continued. “Now you’ve caused the death of your Shijie!”

“Huh?” Madam Yu asked, turning her blank gaze on Sect Leader Yao at last.

“Your suffering was the result of your own crimes, yet you dared to vent your anger on another!” he continued, gestering at the corpse of the boy who had stabbed Jiang Yanli. “Instead of learning, you took another life. Wei Wuxian, your crimes will never be forgiven!”

“You shut up!” Jiang Cheng shouted. “This is all — how could you all-”

He couldn’t finish those words. The resentment was suffocating now. Wei Wuxian’s rapid heartbeat echoed throughout the simulation. He looked down, his breaths coming out faster and faster. He brought his hands up, burying his face in them. What he said next was not a response to Sect Leader Yao’s words nor an accusation of his own.

It was simply a scream.

“A-Xian!” Jiang Yanli called out one last time. The real one, of course; now, the simulated one was gone.

And now the world would pay.

Wei Wuxian reached into his robes, taking two objects out from within his sleeves. With a resounding clang they snapped togetther.

The Stygian Tiger Seal had been formed.

Everything went black.

…

……

………

…………

Wen Ruohan blinked once, breathing in deeply. The resentment at the Burial Mounds had been bad. What occurred just a second ago was incomparable as far as spirits could feel.

‘Even during the battle, he was holding back that much resentment?’ Wen Ruohan wondered. ‘He wasn’t using the Stygian Tiger Seal either.’

Because, as Wei Wuxian had mentioned, those weapons were far too powerful — involved far too little control.

‘It’s no wonder Jin Guangshan was willing to face the ire of the other sects to get access to Xue Yang.’

And wasn’t that exactly why this had all occurred? Wei Wuxian was too dangerous to be so alone.

(Because of that, Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan were dead.)

The Chief Cultivator breathed in one more time, finally feeling his headache ease. He looked up.

All around him, there were bodies strewn across the floor.

“What?” someone muttered from behind. Wen Ruohan glanced back to see Nie Mingjue picking himself off the floor. The chair he had been sitting on until a few moments ago appeared crushed.

Wen Ruohan looked down at his own chair, noticing the splinters and cracks that had formed. About half the chairs in the room had been demolished completely.

And yet, at the moment, that felt like a truly trivial concern.

“What was that?” Nie Mingjue asked. “What just-”

“I believe,” Wen Ruohan interrupted, “that we just witnessed the night Three Thousand Cultivators died.”

(Or five thousand, depending on who you asked.)

Nie Mingjue looked back at Wen Ruohan, his eyes wide.

“That’s-” he began, only to stop himself a moment later. Instead of continuing, he looked across the unconscious bodies on the floor for his brother. Huaisang, as expected, had collapsed just a little ways away. Nie Mingjue rushed over.

At the same time, Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji began to stir.

One by one, the watchers began to wake up and pick themselves off the ground. Even after that they breathed heavily, still vividly recalling the feeling of resentment crushing their legs, chests, stomachs, hands, heads — weighing down all the way to the tips of their fingers.

Emotionally speaking, they weren’t any better off.

“A-Li!” Madam Yu cried out, rushing to her daughter’s side. For perhaps the first time in her life, she attempted to hug Jiang Yanli. The rules of the simulation, of course, prevented that from happening. Her arms moved straight through her daughter, never making contact at all.

“A-Niang,” Jiang Yanli said, her eyes watering. “A-Niang, I-”

She stopped, swallowing back a cry.

“A-Niang!”

A little ways behind her, Jin ZIxuan stood still, his breathing becoming harsher and harsher. He swallowed a few times, flinching every time he heard Jiang Yanli speak.

Throughout this entire simulation, no matter what she had seen, Jiang Yanli had never cried like that. Her parents’ deaths had hurt her immensely, but even then this hopeless, desperate cry hadn’t appeared. Despite her lacking cultivation, Jiang Yanli was a woman Jin Zixuan admired. Her response to everything his simulated self had done gave her an air of maturity he could never hope to match.

But now…

“A-Niang!” Jiang Yanli cried again, falling to her knees and burying her head in her hands. She cried out over and over again, trembling like a child scared of a passing storm. Her tears began falling onto the in-between zone’s floor, disappearing a moment later. Nie Mingjue and Lan XIchen looked away from the scene. Nie Huaisang and Wen Qing frowned in pity. Madam Yu’s arms were still extended, trying, pointlessly, to envelop Jiang Yanli in a hug.

(She had never had to do this before. Madam Yu was not someone who gave comfort — Jiang Yanli was the one who gave it. In fact, the only times Jiang Yanli had ever really needed comfort…

Well, Wei Wuxian had given it to her then.)

“A-Li…” Madam Yu attempted, her gaze briefly turning toward her son. Jiang Cheng didn’t seem to notice her at all, just gazing blankly at the ground between him and his sister for a while.

The red of Jiang Yanli’s blood had stood out quite starkly on her mourning robes.

(For the tenth time that hour, Jiang Cheng felt like he was going to throw up.)

(He was far from the only one.)

“Who was that man?!” Madam Yu demanded, looking around desperately. “The one who stabbed A-Li! Did anyone recognize him?! What sect was he-”

“What good will knowing that do, Ziyuan?” Lan Qiren sighed. “He was little more than a single drop of water in a crashing wave. Punishing him won’t solve anything at all.”

“Then what?! You want to blame Wei Wuxian?”

Wen Ruohan laughed openly at that, pointing out, “You’ve always been the first one to advocate for that. A-Ying might have lost control in that moment, but, if it hadn’t been for-”

“That’s enough,” Nie Mingjue growled. “We all know that already. By that point, this outcome was… inevitable.”

“Was it?” Wen Ruohan asked. “If Jiang Yanli hadn’t asked A-Ying to stop his corpses — to let the army attacking him go — she might have lived.”

Lan Xichen’s mouth dropped open at Wen Ruohan’s audacity. Madam Jin looked too torn between anger and shock to do anything. Madam Yu looked a second away from sparking with electricity, having Zidian or not.

Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan both flinched.

(It was almost funny, how well they suited each other. Both of them had run in on Wei Wuxian defending himself from an army dozens to hundreds to thousands of times greater than him, and both of them had asked him to stop. Helplessly watching cultivators gather against her brother had made Jiang Yanli furious. Yet, when her other-self did intervene, she only made things worse for Wei Wuxian. Neither she nor her husband had known the full situation at the time, but…)

(Well, it was much easier to get one person to stop than a thousand.)

(The first time, Wei Wuxian hadn’t listened. The second time, he had. Neither worked out. Jin Ling was an orphan from infancy because the two of them only ever made things worse.)

A morose air fell over the watchers.

Jin Guangshan was standing in the back, watching the other sect leaders carefully. At this time, no one felt much like speaking. The sequence of events they bore witness to felt meaningless, in hindsight. All the rumors, all the hate, and Wei Wuxian hadn’t even been the one to finish her off.

But that was the whole point, wasn’t it? In Jin Guangshan’s opinion, this segment had shown their grim reality quite frankly.

(Wei Wuxian’s power would inevitably bring strife to the land. A power like that, especially one he couldn’t fully control, was far too dangerous. A being like him could never live unleashed.)

“The next time Wei Wuxian contacts us, we should probably instruct him to stop his research into demonic cultivation,” Jin Guangshan suggested. “Now that we have a way out, he doesn’t need to learn more. It will be safest for everyone if he stops.”

A few confused gazes turned his way, the suggestion seeming to come out of nowhere. Jin Guangshan gave a friendly smile.

“Just think about it,” he continued. “If Wei Wuxian hadn’t had demonic cultivation, things would never have gotten this far. Wei Wuxian wouldn’t have been vulnerable after stopping his corpses if he wasn’t used to having those. He can continue his research into talismen, of course, but it will be safest for everyone if he doesn’t-”

“Demonic cultivation is not why this occurred.”

The even-toned words left no room for refusal. The source, of course, was Lan Wangji.

Jin Guangshan narrowed his eyes, pointing out, “No one person needs that kind of power. The fear Wei Wuxian and his seal inspired in people is exactly what caused this to occur.”

They had just witnessed that seal’s power. Most of them had fallen unconscious from the sheer intensity of the resentment. No one could deny its strength. But-

“That same fear would have never happened if I had been the one to create demonic cultivation,” Lan Wangji responded, just as evenly as before. Jin Guangshan narrowed his eyes.

‘He was so much more endearing when he couldn’t speak back to me,’ Sect Leader Jin thought.

A shiver ran up Lan Xichen’s spine for reasons he couldn’t explain. A few moments later, he stood in front of Lan Wangji, blocking Jin Guangshan’s sight of him. Nie Minjgue stepped forward as well:

“If you’re outlawing his cultivation, you would have to outlaw the Nie Sect’s cultivation, too,” he declared firmly, clenching down to forcefully still his shaking hands. “In that situation, I would have lost control long before Wei Wuxian did. If anything, Nie cultivation should be outlawed before his.”

Which would not happen unless Nie Mingjue himself wanted it to. Great Sects or not, the others could not force this. ‘Nothing has happened despite so many years passing. I’m sure it’s fine!’ ‘If Sect Leader Nie says it’s okay, it must be.’ ‘Beast-based cultivation? That’s exactly what I’d expect of them — why are you all surprised?’ It would hurt their reputation, of course. It might even weaken them until they stopped being a Great Sect. It would not be the end, however.

(At the beginning, when their sect was still new, it might’ve been enough to finish them off.)

(Wei Wuxian was new. The Great Sects, at the end of this, would kill him.)

(That didn’t make it right.)

“At-at the very least, we should be monitoring him more closely, shouldn’t we?” Jin Guangshan asked. “My sect, at least, needs more before it will feel reassured. We all saw how poorly things can go when Wei Ying looses control.”

An image of Jiang Yanli flashed into the watchers’ minds again. Tensions rose among the adults and the juniors flinched as if slapped. Nie Huaisang swallowed once; Jiang Cheng was shaking; Jin Zixuan eyes burned with tears.

“I-”

“Shut up!”

Everyone looked over at once. To Jin Guangshan's surprise, Wen Qing was the person who had just spoken.

“Shut up,” the doctor repeated. “I don’t want to hear another word out of you.”

She had watched herself be burned alive. She had watched Jiang Yanli die, unable to help. She had heard rumors of Wen Ning’s demise knowing full well that Jin Guangshan was keeping him locked away at this time. As the segment had gone on, Wen Qing's rage had gradually started to consume her.

“Maiden-”

“No. Enough. What you did — what you all did to Wei Wuxian — was never his fault! A-Ning killed Jin Zixuan and Wei Wuxian hurt Jiang Yanli, but nothing will make up for what you tried to do to him!” Wen Qing shouted, losing composure completely. “You cannot just sit here and pretend like you weren’t trying to-”

“I’m offering this suggestion to prevent that from happening!”

“If you think-!”

*Click*

“Hello!” Wei Wuxian greeted.

And that voice — calm, relaxed, and unafraid — stabbed straight through Jiang Yanli like the blade that had taken her other self’s life.

Jiang Cheng couldn’t look up. It didn’t matter that Wei Wuxian wouldn’t visually be there — Jiang Cheng was incapable of looking in the direction of that voice.

‘'I suppose you didn’t have a mother to teach you?’ Hitting where it hurts the most, huh?’ the future Sect Leader Jiang had asked. ‘Have you forgotten who’s the reason Jin Ling had to face so many whispers behind his back? You’re quite the forgetful old man. You’ve forgotten the things you’ve said, the promise you made, but don’t you dare forget how his parents died!’

Jiang Yanli sat up suddenly, pushing Wei Wuxian back and taking the hit for herself. She had acted, in her last moments, to save Wei Wuxian.

‘Don’t you dare forget how his parents died!’

Jiang Cheng wanted to scream.

The complete lack of response the watchers had given seemed to concern Wei Wuxian a little. He attempted once more:

“Hello?” he asked.

There was a pause.

“...Hello, Wei Wuxian,” Wen Qing greeted. Her voice still shook a little.

(Jin Guangshan remained silent, hoping she would soon calm and deciding to try to get his point across again once she had stopped being so hysterical about everything involving Wei Wuxian.)

“...Did something happen?” Lan Qiren asked.

(At this moment, not even he could look up in the direction of Wei Wuxian.)

“Ah. I had an update I thought you all might want to know,” Wei Wuxian admitted. “We think we found Xue Yang.”

Several watchers did a double-take, caught completely off guard. With everything that had been happening recently, the events of Yi City felt like the distant past.

(Distant future?)

Either way, it wasn’t something any watcher felt ready to think about.

“...Good work, A-Ying,” Wen Ruohan said.

“...Thank you,” Wei Wuxian accepted hesitantly.

“Where is he now?” Madam Jin asked.

“He’s probably in town.”

“You let him leave?” Lan Qiren wondered.

(Normally, he would be far angrier about a prospect like that. Xue Yang was dangerous. Even in child form, it was careless to leave him alone. However, right now, Lan Qiren was just tired.)

“He’ll be back,” Wei Wuxian assured. “We’re still offering food to him; there’s no reason for him to stay away. If he goes to another town, he can go to one of our test centers there. Everyone involved knows to report to me if they find him.”

“But how could you just let him go?” Jin Guangshan demanded, pulling back as soon as he noticed Wen Ruohan’s gaze on him. “Xue Yang is a demonic cultivator in the future. Surely Jiang-xiong told you about his crimes.”

“He’s eight,” Wei Wuxian said. “I’m not going to imprison him for something he didn’t yet do.”

And, for all that Wei Wuxian had been happy to follow their instructions thus far, no one doubted his claims now. He had gone against them before; only Jiang Yanli’s request had made him back down.

“I’ll continue to be in contact with Xue Yang. If anything changes about the situation, I’ll let you know.”

Several watchers nodded absently.

That was fine. Probably.

(What happened at Yi City had been horrendous.)

(And yet, after what they had just seen in the simulation, how could any of the watchers put much energy into focusing on Xue Yang’s crimes?)

“...Anything you would like me to report back on?”

They could request for people they trusted to be attached to the communication array. There were people there who might even kill Xue Yang, if ordered to. They could make a choice like that. After someone else heard the order, it would be difficult for Wei Wuxian to stop them.

So what? Should they say that Xue Yang was too dangerous to be left free, even as a kid? That it was just in his nature to hurt others? That he was a breast that needed to be chained down?

(Wen Ning was a beast of Wei Wuxian’s. Wen Ning was not killed when he was supposed to be. If Wei Wuxian had not found their armies and the sects’ attack on the Burial Mounds had been successful, what would Jin Guangshan have done after getting his hands on Wei Wuxian?)

(Would he kill him?)

(Or would he-)

“We’re fine,” Wen Ruohan declared.

“Fine?”

“Use your own judgement when it comes to Xue Yang. We’ll leave that to you,” he said.

None of the watchers moved to disagree.

“...Ah. I’ll… take care of it then.”

It seemed as though he wanted to say something else. However, none of the watchers felt much like talking to him.

“Goodbye, A-Xian,” Jiang Yanli said, her voice empty.

“...Right,” Wei Wuxian agreed. “Goodbye.”

With a click, he was gone.