Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jin Ling opened his eyes, gradually taking in the scene before him. A dark sky; fire-lit roads; crows flying overhead. Sound returned a moment later, marching steps in the distance growing louder as time went on. However, Jin Ling’s other senses lagged behind.

There was nothing to smell.

There was nothing to taste.

The robes Jin Ling wore, which he could clearly see with his own two eyes, didn’t register as any feeling against his skin. He and his adornments were as weightless as the air around them.

(No, it wasn’t air. He wasn’t even breathing.)

“...Wei Wuxian?” he called out.

“Over here. Give it a moment.”

Then, at long last, Jin Ling managed to feel something hard against his feet. He tapped his toes against the now-apparent ground, taking in the subsequent sound. There was something resembling matter there — something he could push against and walk on top of.

Moving as clumsily as a newborn fawn, Jin Ling turned himself around.

Wei Wuxian looked back at him, giving a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

‘...And then what happened?’ Jin Ling had asked.

The death of Jin Zixuan had been outlined in full. Inevitably, information on Jiang Yanli’s death followed. Many elements had been the same. As a result, this explanation took significantly less time than the first one had. Wei Wuxian had been scared, facing many people in combat, and been overwhelmed by isolation and betrayal.

He lost control, he’d said.

But-

‘Your mother… chose to save me, right at the end.’

(It had not been the cause of her death.)

Jin Ling inhaled, not feeling any air come in but feeling forced into the familiar motion nonetheless. Human reactions couldn’t just be turned on and off. According to Wei Wuxian, refusing to breathe here would not knock you out — would, physically, be no different from continuing to breathe. It would be immensely uncomfortable, however.

As seconds went by, Jin Ling relaxed and the flow of the matterless energy surrounding them began to feel more and more like the air of the outside world. By now, it was hard to notice the difference at all.

Good. Jin Ling needed to focus, for now.

Jin Ling had asked as many questions as he could. According to Wei Wuxian, Jiang Yanli had pushed her husband’s killer out of the way of an enemy's strike. Wei Wuxian had injured her, but he didn’t know how much. At the very least, she had been alive until then.

‘Did A-Niang know that you killing A-Die was an accident?’ Jin Ling asked.

Wei Wuxian shook his head.

‘Why was she at the battlefield?! I thought she wasn’t a combatant!’

‘She said she had something to tell me.’

‘Which was?!’

‘...I don’t know. She never got to say.’

Could there be a less satisfying response than that?

‘You said… you were scared of my dad. What about my mom? Is that why you hurt her?’

‘No.’

Wei Wuxian’s answer was absolute.

‘But-’

“No, no, A-Ling….’ Wei Wuxian shook his head. ‘Your mother would never have hurt me. I hurt her because of my own carelessness.’

‘Carelessness?!’ Jin Ling shouted back. ‘I’ve never seen you make a mistake like that! Not even once.’

Wei Wuxian remained silent, simply accepting the rage and skepticism.

‘Then… what happened next? What did you do then?!’

Taking care to not break eye contact, Wei Wuxian answered, ‘I used the Stygian Tiger Seal against the army. I didn’t care who I killed, by that point. Lan Zhan helped me get back to the Burial Mounds.’

It was an answer, but not an answer Jin Ling liked. He stood up, his confusion and apprehension spilling out into rage.

‘You told me you were going to explain,’ he bit out. ‘Why are you talking so vaguely?! You lost consciousness after killing my father and Wen Ning took you away. Fine! That makes sense. No one there was going to listen to you anyway. But what about here? You didn’t kill my mother! Why didn’t you talk to Uncle Jiang?!’

If he’d had time to think, Jin Ling could have answered that question himself. After all, Jiang Wanyin had attended a pledge conference to kill Wei Wuxian even before Jiang Yanli’s demise. Why would he be any more merciful than Jin Zixun now? How could Wei Wuxian possibly try to reason with him when people who wanted him dead were attacking from all sides?

(Talking with Jiang Yanli hadn’t exactly gone well.)

But-

‘Why use the Stygian Tiger Seal if you were just going to run?! What, did you want to make sure no one was able to stop you and Hanguang-jun? Did you want to make sure no one saw you two as you ran off together? To protect his reputation at the cost of your own? You don’t know why my mother was there; you’re telling me everyone is lying when they say you killed her! According to your story, Uncle Jiang saw all of this. He would have told me if that was what happened!’

(Would he really?)

(Would anyone?)

But Jin Zixuan’s death was orchestrated by people who Jin Ling could easily blame. Since the conspirers were the only people there, it was common sense to doubt the explanation those people gave. Jin Guangyao was involved too. He probably played some part in how the story was spread.

But not with this. Not here.

(The Yiling Patriarch was evil. The sects had united to bring him down in the name of justice.)

(The army of heroes had fired the first shot.)

‘This doesn’t explain anything!’ Jin Ling had snapped. ‘You can’t expect me to be satisfied with this!’

‘I’m sorry,’ Wei Wuxian said.

There was nothing more he could offer than that.

‘At that moment, after… my mom… did you talk to Uncle Jiang at all before you decided to run?’ Jin Ling asked.

It had been an irrelevant question. It made no difference either way. All Jin Ling wanted was something — anything — to grasp onto.

‘I… don’t think I did,’ Wei Wuxian muttered. ‘I don’t really know, I’m sorry. It was all… a blur. I don’t really remember anything that happened after your mom died. Up through my death it’s all just…’

A haze.

He didn’t know.

He couldn’t recall.

And, at that moment, Jin Ling made his choice:

‘Show me the memories,’ he requested. ‘I need to see for myself what happened.’

Wei Wuxian’s gaze softened with disappointment but lacked surprise.

‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Come here. I think they’re about to start.’

And now, they were here. It had taken only a minute or so for Wei Wuxian to set the Píngxíng Gateway up. That minute had proved valuable to the young Sect Leader, giving him a chance to calm down a little.

‘I shouted at Wei Wuxian,’ Jin Ling thought. At the beginning of their talk, he had promised himself that he would listen to what Wei Wuxian said with an open mind. If Wei Wuxian admitted to all the terrible crimes attributed to him, Jin Ling would accept that. It would be shocking to know he’d done that, but Wei Wuxian wasn’t crazy anymore. Death had ‘cured him’ of the corruption — that was the story most people accepted now. Jiang Wanyin, who led the siege against Wei Wuxian, had been right to do so. The current Wei Wuxian, who Jin Ling knew now, would have reasons to be regretful.

He hadn’t prepared for this, however.

‘I asked him to explain,' Jin Ling thought. 'He did a fine job with what happened to my dad! It’s not my fault he has no answers about my mom!’

He still probably shouldn’t have shouted.

‘If he would just answer fully I wouldn’t have to!’

A thought occurred with a terrifying force.

‘Did my shouts… wake up Hanguang-jun?’

(The man had been sleeping in an adjacent room, after all.)

Jin Ling really, really, really, really hoped not.

“Let’s see…” Wei Wuxian trailed off, inscribing a character onto the ground with resentful energy. “Ah, here we go!”

The resentment glowed.

A moment later, a fire-lit street had surrounded them. In the seconds it took for Jin Ling to adjust to the sensation of going through the Píngxíng Gateway (breathing without breathing and feeling without truly touching), the people there came into focus.

“Wait… is that Uncle Jiang?!” Jin Ling squeaked. “He looks so-”

Perhaps fearing that this Jiang Cheng would somehow be able to hear him, Jin Ling cut off abruptly.

An unrecognizably young Jiang Cheng stood before him. The expression on the teenager’s face was even less pleasant than his usual one. This wasn’t the glare he often had when scolding Jin Ling nor the near-mad rage he showed when a suspected demonic cultivator was around. It carried a frigid chill that aged the sect heir significantly.

It was hard to believe that this boy, for all the years they had “watched” in the simulation, was still only fifteen.

Jin Ling stared.

Wei Wuxian gave a small, somewhat hollow chuckle.

Jin Ling stared some more.

“...Sorry, Uncle,” he said at last.

The figure from the past, of course, did not respond.

Jin Ling looked around, taking the scenery in more fully. Quite a few people were still here. A soft, red glow emerged from the seal drawn onto the floor — the exit Wei Wuxian had instructed his younger self on making. Though Jin Ling couldn’t help but gaze at the intricate symbols in awe for a moment, the watchers from the past paid the seal no mind. They all stood or sat tall, their eyes glued to the visions before them.

Below, a large courtyard was filled with so many people it would take a person hours to count them all.

Every last one of them was armed to the teeth.

Jin Ling swallowed once. He looked back.

A few ways behind him, Wei Wuxian was staring at the past’s Jiang Yanli with an expression so pained Jin Ling nearly wanted to flee. He, for a moment, became unable to speak. For all that Jin Ling had felt he needed to see this, the impact it would have on Wei Wuxian was not something he could allow himself to forget. Finally-

“...Sorry,” the young Sect Leader muttered.

Wei Wuxian didn’t look over. For a while, Jin Ling thought he might not have even heard. But:

“Your mother… wouldn’t have wanted you to see this,” he said.

Jin Ling looked down, feeling a hot flush of shame. Once again, a temptation to give up and go back washed over him.

(But he had to see this. He had to.)

The memories moved in closer, bringing all the watchers to the table where Jiang Cheng, Jin Guangshan, Nie Mingjue, and Lan Xichen stood. Everyone’s eyes turned toward them.

“This is the Nightless City,” Wei Wuxian announced. “Just a few days after… I killed your father.”

No excuse. No defense. In going through all this, Wei Wuxian was fully prepared for Jin Ling to blame him and him alone.

(That’s what everyone else did, after all.)

In the memories playing out before them, Jin Guangshan stepped forward.

“Tonight, the LanlingJin Clan-”

“-the Qinghe Nie Clan-”

“-the GusuLan Clan-”

“-the Yunmeng Jiang Clan-”

“-and all other clans here stand united!” Jin Guangshan concluded.

Jin Ling turned, looking out at the swarming mass before him. The word ‘crowd’ wasn’t enough to describe this sight. The Qishan Wen Sect’s central courtyard was the largest one Jin Ling had ever seen. A smaller sect’s entire compound could fit inside with room to spare. Despite that, only a few bits of ground were visible now. People were packed here so tightly that they resembled a flood or sea.

Jin Zixuan had just died. The Sects had gathered together for a pledge conference to declare their unity against Wei Wuxian. This, Jin Ling already knew.

Jin Guangshan was handed an ornate, glistening box. He held it high.

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

The crowd cheered.

As a watcher, Jin Ling’s father flinched back.

At once, Jin Ling turned to look at the box with newfound intensity.

“Whose-” he began.

“Wen Qing’s,” Wei Wuxian responded at once, as though not wanting to hear the full question. “And Wen Ning’s, according to Jin Guangshan.”

“But Wen Ning-”

“Was kept imprisoned instead.”

Jin Ling’s mouth snapped shut. All the while, Wei Wuxian’s eyes remained focused on his former Shijie.

Energy filled the box. Abruptly, it shattered.

“Qing-guniang?” the watching Jiang Yanli asked.

The question was shaky and cut off, nearly a sob. It wasn’t meant to be answered.

For a brief moment, Wei Wuxian’s eyes left Jiang Yanli. He turned toward a young woman wearing robes with a motif of the sun embroidered on top.

“Tonight, we scattered the ashes of the two leaders of the Wen Sect’s remnants,” Jin Guangshan announced. “Tomorrow… tomorrow it will be the rest of the Wen dogs and the Yiling Patriarch, Wei Wuxian!”

The cheer that broke out now was even more deafening than the one before.

Thus far, nothing Jin Ling had seen directly contradicted either side’s story. No one had lied to him yet.

The watchers from the past looked murderous nonetheless. One, in particular, sent a shiver down Jin Ling’s spine.

“Wei Wuxian… who’s that?” he asked.

“Hm?” Wei Wuxian glanced over.

A man sat tall in the center of the room, his eyes nearly burning red with rage.

Wei Wuxian narrowed his eyes, finding the figure familiar but only distantly so. The robes indicated his sect easily enough, but his age seemed strangely hard to place. It wasn’t Wen Chao. It wasn’t Wen Qing. At first, Wei Wuxian wanted to guess Wen Xu, but he had met the heir just a short while before.

(A-Yuan’s father was already outside of the Gateway’s effects.)

But then-

“Wen Ruohan, I think,” Wei Wuxian said, walking over to get a closer look. “I’ve only ever seen him from a distance, but… I’m almost certain that’s him.”

A chant was occurring in the simulation. The words ‘Kill the demon! Make sure he’s dead!’ were repeated on and on without rest. It seemed to be making at least half the watchers nauseous.

(Jin Ling wasn’t too far behind.)

“So he’s…” Jin Ling paused, cleared his throat, then spoke louder to be heard over all the chanting. “He’s the Chief Cultivator? Sect Leader Wen?”

“The one you all brought here and revealed the future to, yes.”

Jin Ling flinched.

The chanting was getting even louder.

“He looks… furious,” Jin Ling observed.

(Almost every watcher did.)

“Well, the sects that banded together against him are now gathered together in his former home to destroy what remains of his clan,” Wei Wuxian pointed out, satisfied with his analysis and turning back to Jiang Yanli. “Don’t worry. My younger self and I will do everything in our power to keep him from hurting your parents and uncle.”

The allied sects had defeated him once. Hopefully that would make Wen Ruohan hesitate before declaring war on the other great sects this time around.

(It had made Wei Wuxian want to leave the cultivation world altogether when he was first brought back.)

(Then again, Wei Wuxian knew annoying little about Wen Ruohan. The man’s power was undoubtedly great, but the former Chief Cultivator was little more than a symbol to people in Wei Wuxian’s generation.)

(Much like how the Yiling Patriarch once was to Jin Ling.)

At this moment, however, Wei Wuxian no longer had the ability to focus on Wen Ruohan. Jiang Yanli, watching the memory with an expression Wei Wuxian didn’t dare interpret, took precedence.

Was she angry?

At who?

She looked like she was about to cry.

Wei Wuxian couldn’t bring himself to ask why.

She was alive. Her skin was pink, blood moving thanks to a still-beating heart. The version of her in the playing memories was alive too, right now. Soon, however-

Fweeet!

Wei Wuxian paled.

The Yiling Patriarch had arrived.

Jin Ling looked up along with everyone else gathered in this moment. Wei Wuxian’s moonlit figure captured everyone’s eyes.

“That’s… you?” Jin Ling asked.

Pale. Gaunt.

Was it just the moonlight that made him look that way?

His hair fell down his back, the ponytail Jin Ling was used to nowhere to be found. This body was taller than Wei Wuxian’s current one — a fact obvious even at this distance. The back lighting blocked out most of his features. From his position on the roof, he almost resembled a vulture.

Crows circled overhead.

“What’s… this feeling?” Jin Ling asked.

(Unlike the watchers, he had not yet had time to grow sensitive to resentment yet. At this quantity, however, even a civillian would notice something was off.)

“It’s… it’s the Yiling Patriarch!” someone shouted.

The Patriarch’s attention was directed toward the crowd.

Jin Ling couldn’t breathe.

“A-Xian!” someone shouted.

The sheer relief in the speaker’s tone tore through the current atmosphere in a jagged fashion. Both Wei Wuxian and Jin Ling looked back.

The watching Jiang Yanli’s eyes were shining with relief.

Some ways behind her, Jin Zixuan was smiling brightly.

Madam Yu was smirking; Madam Jin nodded once; Jiang Cheng had an almost vicious grin; Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen looked at each other, sharing a smile.

“Shijie?” Wei Wuxian asked.

Jin Ling sucked in a breath of air.

Wei Wuxian and Jin Guangshan began to talk. They threw insults back and forth, anger seeming to rise with every word.

Neither of the two visitors were listening, however.

“Shijie, why…” Wei Wuxian trailed off. “She must… she must not have realized what’s about to happen.”

Jin Ling, meanwhile, couldn’t help but look at his father’s reaction.

“They’ve already seen A-Die’s death, haven’t they?” he asked.

Wei Wuxian hesitated.

“I thought so, but… it is going out of order,” he pointed out. “I’ve been keeping tabs on them so I know they’ve at least seen brief glimpses. Maybe they’ve… only seen part of that day?”

It didn’t make much sense.

On the other hand, if they really had seen him lose control like he did, then how could any of them be looking at him this way?

The talk between Wei Wuxian and the gathered cultivators continued.

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

‘So, he was telling the truth about that,’ Jin Ling thought.

He hadn’t doubted it, but there was a difference between not doubting it and knowing that everyone here had heard those words spoken without raising a complaint.

(Why had no one mentioned who attacked first? Jin Ling had heard retellings of that day nearly countless times. Surely that would have been mentioned once, even if by accident?)

And-

“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 couldn’t help but laugh.

“How funny. Your admiration is a bit too cheap, don’t you think?”

“A-Ling,” the real Wei Wuxian said. “Look away for a moment.”

Jin Ling refused.

“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*

There was an impact. Wei Wuxian jerked like someone had shoved him back. He looked down.

An arrow was sticking out of his chest.

At a time like this, Jin Ling couldn’t help but recall a different version of Wei Wuxian. The one who, in Koi Tower, had never once intended to hurt Jin Ling. The one who Jin Ling had stabbed a sword into nonetheless.

“I got him!” the young shooter cheered.

Older than Jin Ling, but not by much.

(Once again, Wei Wuxian had told the truth.)

(Once again, it seemed like everyone else around Jin Ling just wanted to lie.)

The memories’ main viewers jerked back in shock at the sudden attack. A few shouts filled the air. The memories then showed Wei Wuxian pull the arrow out of his chest and throw it back to the initial shooter. The boy was dead a moment later.

“Brother!” his companion cried out. “Brother! Brother!”

Meanwhile, the watchers seemed overcome with rage.

“He shot him,” Madam Yu hissed. “He shot him. He shot him.”

The condemnation washed over Wei Wuxian easily, not lingering in his mind. He had killed Madam Yu’s son-in-law. It was only natural for her to react this way to seeing him kill another.

Matching Wei Wuxian’s own memory of the day, the young archer’s sect leader pointed a finger up at Wei Wuxian, accusing “You… you… you’re so cruel!”

Wen Ruohan gave a disbelieving scoff.

Disappointed that his own cruelty was so easily forgotten in comparison to Wei Wuxian’s?

At this point, the battle had begun. Jin Guangshan shouted orders at his forces and the other sects moved to join in. The corpses raised by Wei Wuxian’s flute proved to be worthy opponents for the united force. So many people were shouting and fighting that making out what any one person was saying was nearly impossible.

Jin Ling didn’t need to be able to hear them to see, however. And, as the battle began, a look of absolute horror crossed the real Jin Zixuan’s face.

“You fucking lunatics!” he shouted. “Stop! I’m telling you to stop!”

Jin Ling’s eyes widened.

So much of the context behind this moment was unknown to him. It was hard to say definitively who was in the right (even if, emotionally, he wanted it to be Wei Wuxian). The watchers, however, had as much context as they could get. This whole alliance had formed in response to Jin Zixuan’s death — the watchers had to know what happened.

And yet it was the Jin Sect, not Wei Wuxian, who became the target of Jin Zixuan’s rage.

Hands broke out of the dirt. One by one, corpses rose. It was a sight Jin Ling was more than familiar with after everything he’d experienced with Wei Wuxian. However, now, it was on a scale he had never even fathomed.

The young sect leader swallowed, commenting, “I thought you said… they’d exaggerated what happened this night.”

“They had,” Wei Wuxian confirmed. “This definitely isn’t five or ten or however many thousand they told you I killed. Barely three thousand people are here. There’s four at most.”

For the first time, Jin Ling understood the absolute terror in cultivator’s voices when they mentioned the Yiling Patriarch. Growing up, Jin Ling had been furious at their cowardice. To people who were there that night, however…

“Why are they there?” Nie Huaisang asked.

Jin Ling, who had been lost in thought for the past few seconds, blinked and refocused.

“You wanted to make me a righteous cultivator,” not-yet-Sect-Leader-Nie said. “A hero, or something like that.”

Jin Ling nearly squirmed, thrown off by the youthful honesty of a sect leader heir twenty years his senior. It was strange and unnatural, seeing him so young. It was-

“Da-ge, Wei Wuxian was all that,” Nie Huaisang declared. “A hero.”

No one disagreed.

(Instead, they turned to look at the scene before them with unbridled hate.)

(And Jin Ling’s own uncle, a man who had never hesitated to hunt down anyone he suspected of being Wei Wuxian, looked at this time’s Jiang Wanyin with the most hate of all.)

Jin Ling felt his hands start to shake.

(All the while, Wei Wuxian gazed blankly at Jiang Yanli, not seeming to hear a word that was said.)

The battle went on. Lan Wangji arrived, standing opposite Wei Wuxian.

Jin Ling half-expected his 'uncle' to swoon at the sight of his beloved husband.

(He didn’t. He kept staring at Jiang Yanli.)

And Jin Ling’s expectations found themselves subverted once again as Hanguang-jun — the man who fought off all other sects to escape with Wei Wuxian — unsheathed his blade to fight his future husband. Wei Wuxian dodged his attacks, shouting back without a trace of warmth.

“I always knew there’d come a day when we’d have to fight for real like this. You always detested me anyways.”

Both Lan Wangji’s flinched.

And Jin Ling couldn’t help but gape.

“You two…” he began, cutting himself off as he struggled to comprehend. “You and Hanguang-jun are-”

Lan Sizhui’s narration began once more, the words familiar to Jin Ling. He recalled laughing with the others as they recorded these lines, adding their own comments or interpretations in according to their whims.

And yet, as he heard them now, the young sect leader couldn’t keep a shiver from running down his spine.

“Right now, Xian-gege had already lost his judgement,” Lan Sizhui recited calmly. “He was half-mad, half-delirious. 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.”

Wei Wuxian’s eyes burned red.

“It didn’t matter who came at him. He wasn’t afraid. It was all the same. Everyone was the same.”

Everyone.

Including Jiang Cheng, Wei Wuxian’s former shidi.

Including Lan Wangji, Wei Wuxian’s future husband.

Including-

“A-Xian!”

Despite the shouts all around, that one voice rang out.

“It’s time, A-Ling,” Wei Wuxian said. Jin Ling felt his heart rate speed up. And yet, at that moment, his eyes did not go to where his mother was. Instead, he found himself directing them at his uncle.

The past’s Jiang Cheng had gone white as a ghost.

“A-Xian!” Jiang Yanli called out again.

‘That’s… A-Niang’s voice,’ Jin Ling thought, finally registering the full impact of the sound.

(How many times had he imagined meeting his mother? How many times had he wanted to hear her voice?)

(How many of those times did he imagine Wei Wuxian’s name would be the first thing he heard her say?)

Jin Ling swallowed, a feeling of disgust coming over him.

(He had imagined his mother saying Wei Wuxian’s name many times. Curses, rebukes, cries — assertions that she was wrong to trust him and that she would never make that mistake again. Never like this, though.)

“A-Xian!”

Concern, worry, and fear. Not because of him, but for him.

‘Jiang Yanli always did trust Wei Wuxian too much.’

Those words, or something to that effect, had been muttered countless times. Poor Jin Zixuan — everyone knew he didn’t deserve to die. Jiang Yanli, however….

‘Well, that’s what she gets for trusting a dog like Wei Wuxian.’

No one would dare say as much to Jin Ling’s face, but the consensus was clear.

“A-Xian!” Jiang Yanli called out again.

That wasn’t just trust. The sheer desperation in her voice alluded to much more than that. But-

“A-Li…” Madam Yu trailed off. “What… are you doing here?”

“Shijie?” the memories’ Wei Wuxian asked.

The future’s Wei Wuxian flinched at the sounds. The horror on his face was almost identical to what had appeared on most of the watchers. No one, at any point in time, wanted Jiang Yanli to be there.

‘Deserved it?’ Wei Wuxian repeated, snapping out of his thoughts. ‘What? No, no — a-Ling, no! They didn’t deserve it at all! Your parents were trying to help. Both of them were. It’s just that… I-’

Wei Wuxian had been attacked on all sides and had made a mistake.

Jin Ling’s parents hadn’t deserved what happened to them.

It was all just-

“Shijie!” the memories’ Wei Wuxian shouted.

Jin Ling jerked up.

Wei Wuxian was in the center of the battlefield, now. People were attacking him on all sides, too fast for Jin Ling to follow. In the dark of night, it was nearly impossible to tell who anyone was. Arrows, talismans, and cultivation swords kept coming his way, but Wei Wuxian pushed through.

“Shijie?! Where are you? I can’t see you!”

The watchers from the past began arguing with each other, all shouting over one another.

Both Wei Wuxian and Jin Ling kept their eyes firmly on Jiang Yanli instead.

Wei Wuxian ducked, dodging a sword. His right hand snapped out to catch an arrow that had gotten through the resentment surrounding him. He shoved an attacking cultivator to the side, not having time to deal with them fully. Instead, he continued to press forward.

At that moment, a headless corpse stood up behind Jiang Yanli.

Jin Ling had gone on night hunts with Wei Wuxian dozens to hundreds of times since the other came back to life. Demonic cultivation wasn’t usually necessary, but Wei Wuxian’s comfort with the techniques (and still-forming core) meant Jin Ling had long since grown familiar with the art. Never once, in all that time, had Wei Wuxian ever lost control of a corpse.

The decaying corpse raised a rusty sword.

“Get lost!” Wei Wuxian ordered. “Get lost right now! Don’t touch her!”

The watchers all flinched or winced as though Wei Wuxian’s words were physically assaulting their minds. The intensity of the demonic cultivation rose, brushing against Jin Ling’s skin like sandpaper.

(He was still not as sensitive to the resentment’s influence as the watchers were. The command was too powerful to ignore, however. Jin Ling’s desire to flee multiplied tenfold.)

The boy swallowed, calling out, “Wei Wuxian?”

“Stop!” the memories continued. “Stop it, stop it, right now — stop it!”

The corpse didn’t respond.

Neither did the real Wei Wuxian.

“Wei Wuxian?” Jin Ling tried again.

But the Yiling Patriarch was just gazing blankly at the air before him, unable to respond.

“A-Xian?” the real Jiang Yanli asked.

“Wei Wuxian, why can’t you-!”

Jin Ling’s question was never finished. For, at that moment, the corpse struck down. Jiang Yanli screamed. The shouts of the watchers filled Jin Ling’s ears.

A twenty-two-year-old Jiang Wanyin, formed from the memories, ran towards Wei Wuxian. He threw a punch, sending the Yiling Patriarch stumbling back.

“What happened?!” he demanded. “Didn’t you say you could control it?! Didn’t you say it’d be fine?!”

The intensity of the rage Jin Ling saw there was familiar. He wondered, now, if an image of that corpse attacking Jiang Yanli formed in Jiang Wanyin’s mind every time he caught a suspected Wei Wuxian.

And, in response, Wei Wuxian had no excuse he could give:

“I… don’t know either,” he said. “I can’t control it. I just can’t control it.”

An unsatisfying explanation.

It was the truth, nonetheless.

Jin Ling had never once seen Wei Wuxian lose control. He had never seen Wei Wuxian trapped like this either.

Suddenly, Jiang Yanli twitched.

“A-Jie?”

“A-Niang?!” Jin Ling asked, kneeling down beside her.

(Wei Wuxian had told him he hurt Jiang Yanli. They were here to watch her death. That didn’t make the sight any easier.)

(Jin Ling felt like he was going to throw up.)

To Jin Ling’s side, the living Jin Zixuan was also kneeling. He shook, tears forming in his eyes.

“A-Li!” he cried out. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry-”

The sight of a living Jin Zixuan kneeling by Jiang Yanli’s side was too much for Wei Wuxian. He stumbled back, his hands starting to shake. Jin Zixuan’s apologies — too vague for Wei Wuxian to determine their cause — only made the shaking worse.

“A-Xian.”

Jiang Yanli’s voice, soft and weakened, cut through the conflict.

“Shijie, I… I’m here,” Wei Wuxian assured.

Wei Wuxian could taste bile in his mouth. The red bleeding through Jiang Yanli’s white robes was impossibly vibrant. The pain the injury must have been causing her was unquestionable, yet none of that showed on her face.

Wei Wuxian took a deep breath.

(The last time he had entered the Píngxíng Gateway, the sight of the Burial Mounds had been enough to send him into a panic. Jin Ling had asked to see the entirety of this. He couldn’t afford to lose control now.)

Then, too quietly for Wei Wuxian to hear, the past’s Jin Zixuan whispered something out loud.

“It wasn’t his fault, A-Li,” he assured. “I’m sorry. I invited him but… I didn’t see what was going on until it was too late.”

Jin Ling, kneeling next to his father, turned to look at him with wide eyes.

Then, at last, Jiang Yanli spoke:

“A-Xian…. Back then… why did you run away so fast? I didn’t get the chance to look at you… or say anything to you.”

The memories of Jiang Yanli did not look at Wei Wuxian with hate. The real Jin Zixuan didn’t either. The real Jiang Yanli had tears in her eyes, but the reason for her cries was impossible to determine.

Jin Ling’s ‘Uncle Jiang,’ on the other hand…

The real version of Jiang Cheng — the fifteen-year-old version of Jin Ling’s own uncle — was staring, wide-eyed, at the scene before them. The memories had shown the corpse’s attack quite clearly. As blood pooled around the illusion of Jiang Yanli, terror was clear in Jiang Wanyin’s face. The memory version of him made an expression almost identical to the real one’s.

‘...So that’s it,’ Jin Ling thought. ‘Wei Wuxian was telling the truth: he lost control and now Uncle Jiang hates him. Like Wei Wuxian said, he genuinely messed up by doing that.’

Just an accident. But-

“You killed A-Jie,” the real Jiang Cheng gasped out.

Wei Wuxian flinched, feeling the words as a physical blow.

Jiang Cheng’s hate, in this moment, made perfect sense.

‘But….’ Jin Ling furrowed his brows. ‘Didn’t Wei Wuxian say that… something else killed mom?’

That was hard to believe, considering what was being shown. Jiang Yanli coughed, blood falling from her mouth.

“I’m….” She breathed heavily. “I’m here to tell you…”

Jiang Yanli coughed again, more blood falling out.

The red overwhelmed Wei Wuxian’s gaze. His own heart rate picked up, his breaths coming out faster and faster-

“Wei Wuxian!”

The Yiling Patriarch flinched, turning to Jin Ling. The boy’s legs shook a little as though he was carrying a heavy weight on his back. His brows were furrowed with strain.

“Your eyes…” he said. “They’re red.”

Wei Wuxian blinked, confused.

“It’s… heavy,” Jin Ling gasped, resentment pouring down on him.

Because Wei Wuxian had lost control.

Again.

The resentment vanished at once, pulled back according to the will of its master. Said master stepped back, pale as a ghost from horror at himself. He couldn’t even verbalize an apology right now. Shakily, he sat down.

He had promised to show this to Jin Ling. He could last for a little while longer.

Even if Jin Ling came to hate him after this, he would see it through.

However, at that moment:

“The Jin Sect’s doctors are reasonably skilled,” someone declared.

Jin Ling looked over, not recognizing the speaker at first. The woman was dressed in the robes of the Wen Sect, her eyes the same shade of gray as Wen Ning’s.

“Oh.” Jin Ling realized at once.

(It was the woman whose ashes had been scattered just a month after he’d been born.)

(The famed doctor of the Wen.)

“She still has some time left,” the doctor continued, looking Jiang Yanli over. “If… if she gets to them before an hour passes…”

But the battle within the memories was continuing without rest.

“Shijie,” the Wei Wuxian-from-memories spoke. “Stop… stop talking. I’ll get you out of here right away.”

Both versions of Jiang Cheng tensed at that, glaring up at Wei Wuxian with untrusting eyes.

Luckily, in that moment, Wei Wuxian didn’t try to approach.

‘What does she want to say?’ the Wei Wuxian of the past wondered. ‘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 Wuian nearly laughed.

‘Impossible.’

Guilt. Sorrow.

Their faces were different, so this version of Wei Wuxian was a little hard for Jin Ling to superimpose onto the version he knew. It was easy, from a distance, to imagine this was someone else entirely.

The expression that Wei Wuxian was making now was one very familiar to Jin Ling, however.

(It was identical to the one showing up on the real Wei Wuxian right now.)

Whatever had happened to Jin Ling’s parents, Wei Wuxian had not wanted it. Jin Ling’s mother and father didn’t deserve to die.

“A-Xian,” Jiang Yanli managed, still using that nickname despite everything that had happened. “You should… you should stop first. Stop. Stop them.”

“I’ll stop!” Wei Wuxian promised. “Yes, I’ll stop!”

A few flute notes were played. Gradually, the army’s movement came to a halt.

The undead army, that is. The cultivators were left unaffected by the sound.

Jin Ling straightened up. He had heard stories of this battle countless times, spoken by drunkards and warriors alike. Not a single one of them had ever mentioned Wei Wuxian stopping at his mother’s command.

‘Does A-Niang… want him to surrender?’ Jin Ling thought. ‘Okay, so she doesn’t disagree with what the army is doing. She just also… doesn’t hate Wei Wuxian?’

Yet Jin Ling’s uncle, regardless of which version one looked at, was far less forgiving. Hurt, fear, anger, and frustration were all apparent on Jiang Cheng’s face. The two versions looked down at Jiang Yanli, emotions building up within them.

For all that Jiang Cheng had told Jin Ling about demonic cultivators, he had never mentioned this day in detail. Jin Ling’s mother had died in Jiang Cheng’s arms. Something like that would be impossible to forget.

With conflicted eyes, both Jiang Chengs watched Wei Wuxian kneel by Jiang Yanli’s side. His hands became stained with her blood. Neither Wei Wuxian nor Jiang Yanli looked angry at this moment. Sect Leader Jiang’s rage made up for their comparative lack.

Jiang Yanli was dying in Jiang Wanyin’s arms.

The real Jiang Cheng couldn’t stand it.

“But he still killed-”

Jiang Cheng’s sentence never finished. A series of events occurred too quickly for Jin Ling to react to. There was a flash of silver. Wei Wuxian fell back, pushed by someone. More red sprayed into the air.

A sword was sticking out of Jiang Yanli’s throat.

Jin Ling screamed, jumping back. Despite his experience with night hunts, he had never seen such a brutal attack occur so suddenly. He nearly gagged, the sight of the blade in his mother’s neck almost too much for him to bear.

“A-Li?” Madam Yu asked.

Jiang Yanli’s head went lopsided. The attacker, a man Jin Ling had never met before, finally seemed to realize his attack had hit someone else. He backed up, throwing out excuses.

“She just threw herself over on her own-”

Wei Wuxian killed the man, not letting him finish.

For a moment, there was a pause. A fresh corpse was on the ground. Jiang Yanli’s corpse was in Jiang Cheng’s arms. Neither could move.

‘What just… that happened so fast I couldn’t-’ Jin Ling gaped.

Jiang Wanyin looked shocked and confused, not even seeming to register what was before his eyes. The same was true of Wei Wuxian.

‘It was all… a blur,’ Wei Wuxian confessed, explaining to Jin Ling. ‘I don’t really remember anything that happened after your mom died. Up through my death it’s all just…’

Both versions of Wei Wuxian looked dazed.

No one was thinking clearly.

Jin Ling had been made to hate Wei Wuxian based on stories of this night. Countless people had rallied behind that cause.

Sect Leader Yao cursed at Wei Wuxian, shouting, “Instead of learning, you took another life. Wei Wuxian, your crimes will never be forgiven!”

Wei Wuxian had killed the person who killed Jin Ling’s mother.

Funny, how Sect Leader Yao had never mentioned that.

Was Wei Wuxian involved in this tragedy? Yes.

Had he injured Jiang Yanli? Apparently.

Was it his fault?

Jiang Wanyin seemed to think so. But-

“You shut up!” the real Jiang Cheng screamed. His shout, at this moment, was directed at Sect Leader Yao.

Jin Ling looked up.

The real Jiang Cheng had changed position. He had been standing on the sidelines a little while ago. Now, however, he had moved between the memory forms of Wei Wuxian and Sect Leader Yao.

Protecting Wei Wuxian.

This version of Jin Ling’s uncle, who had seen everything leading up to this point, wanted to protect Wei Wuxian.

Behind him, the memory version of Wei Wuxian seemed to snap. Demonic energy surged from him, painting the world black. He pulled the Stygian Tiger Seal from his robes, assembling it and calling forth its power.

The world went black.

Jin Ling blinked, opening his eyes. When he inhaled, he felt real air enter his lungs. He looked over.

Wei Wuxian — the real Wei Wuxian, with the face of Jin Ling’s cousin — sat to the side. He said nothing for a while, his gaze hanging low. His silver eyes, usually shimmering with light, looked dull and faded.

“...Wei Wuxian?” Jin Ling called out.

Those eyes glanced toward him. Jin Ling swallowed once.

“Are…” he trailed off. “Are you okay?”

After pausing for a while longer, Wei Wuxian nodded once. He stood up, did a casual stretch of his arms, then looked back at Jin Ling with a warm smile.

“Looks like that was the end of that segment,” he observed. “Did you want to see more? Or does that satisfy your curiosity?”

Jin Ling paused, then nodded his head.

“I’m… okay, now,” he said. “I get what you meant. About it being a confusing time and things.”

When Wei Wuxian had first explained the night to him, the accidental nature of what happened had seemed hard to believe. It felt cheap and false — a non-answer given to keep Jin Ling from finding out anything of substance. However, after seeing it himself…

What other way was there to describe that?

That had been the largest army Jin Ling had ever seen. Even the sect’s alliance during his lifetime paled in comparison.

(Wei Wuxian had killed enough of them to make a visible difference in size.)

Wei Wuxian’s demonic cultivation, let loose under ideal conditions, was far stronger than Jin Ling had realized. He understood, now, how so many fantastical stories could be attributed to the Yiling Patriarch.

And now?

Jin Ling sat up fully.

Sect Leader Yao had seen how Jiang Yanli died. Sect Leader Yao had never told Jin Ling the truth.

Jiang Wanyin had seen how Jiang Yanli died. Jin Ling’s uncle had always kept details from him.

The past’s Jiang Wanyin had seen everything leading up to that. The past’s Jiang Wanyin had moved in front of Wei Wuxian protectively. Accident or not, it could be argued that Wei Wuxian’s actions caused Jiang Yanli’s death. The fact that the youngest Jiang Cheng hadn’t directed anger at him…

Jin Ling breathed in.

“Wei Wuxian,” he called out. “When… when the past sect leaders are out of the simulation… I want to speak to my uncle.”

“The younger Jiang Cheng?” Wei Wuxian asked.

Jin Ling nodded once.

“...Alright,” Wei Wuxian agreed. “I’ll try to arrange that.”

Jin Ling nodded once more. He blinked twice.

Every time he did, an image flashed in his mind. Jiang Yanli, lying dead, a sword spearing through her neck. Nausea welled up in Jin Lings stomach and he swallowed, feeling like he was about to throw up.

He blinked again.

Jiang Yanli’s neck had been cut wide open, the gaping wound gushing with blood as her head rolled back onto Jiang Cheng’s lap.

Jin Ling swallowed.

Wei Wuxian had wanted to keep him from the memories for exactly this reason.

But…

“Thank you,” Jin Ling said. “Thank you.”

Wei Wuxian paused, tensing in apprehension, then reached forward to pat Jin Ling’s head.

“...You’re welcome,” he said. “We… have a spare bed I can set up. Why don’t you spend the night? If you have any trouble sleeping you can come to me, alright?”

It was an embarrassing request. Jin Ling was almost sixteen now. He was far from a child. At his age, Wei Wuxian had fought the Xuanwu of Slaughter! He could return to Lanling and sleep by himself just fine.

Jin Ling blinked.

Jiang Yanli’s mouth had been slightly open. A pool of blood had formed there. Jin Ling’s uncle had felt her body grow cold. Her blood had poured onto his legs.

The sword had cut right through bone. Her head had fallen back at an angle no living human could ever attempt.

“A-Ling?” Wei Wuxian asked.

“I’d… like that,” he accepted, ducking his head.

Wei Wuxian got to work at once, moving around with a spring in his step. Another bedspread was laid out on the floor. Next to it, Wei Wuxian placed a dim lamp with enough fuel to last until morning. He laid on his side, counting the number of blankets he’d put in.

Jiang Yanli had ended up in a similar position. The main difference between the two sights was the lack of a sword sticking out of Wei Wuxian’s throat.

Jin Ling had stabbed him in the stomach once. The smell of blood that had covered his hands at the time was still a vivid memory to him.

“Hm! Nice and soft!” Wei Wuxian confirmed, pressing down a few times. “This might surprise you, but the Lan Sect has some of the nicest blankets I’ve ever seen. I’m sure even Young Master Jin will be comfortable tonight.”

Jin Ling nodded, trying desperately to not blink, and laid himself down on the fabric.

“Will you want anything else?” Wei Wuxian checked.

Jin Ling opened his mouth, momentarily wanting to ask Wei Wuxian to stay, then closed it a moment later and shook his head. Wei Wuxian paused for a bit, watching him thoughtfully, then nodded in agreement and got up.

(Jin Ling hadn’t seen the real Wei Wuxian’s face the moment the memories’ Jiang Yanli died. He had glanced over a moment later, then did a double take, unable to find him. Eventually, he had noticed Wei Wuxian in the far end of the field. The man had sat back, brought his knees up, and buried his head in them, unwilling to see even a bit of it. His hands had been covering his ears, but that wouldn’t keep the surrounding screams from being heard. Resentful energy had swirled around him in a tightly wound mess, moving less than a centimeter away from his skin. Thanks to that, Jin Ling had been able to watch that segment in full.)

(Right now, the serene smile on Wei Wuxian’s face was more than he could bear.)

A hand fell on Jin Ling’s head. He tensed, looking up, and felt Wei Wuxian give his head a soothing scratch. The light brush of his hand was warm with life. Jin Ling breathed out, settling into the fabric around him.

(The Yiling Patriarch’s glowing red eyes had startled Jin Ling the first time he saw them. Those same eyes had widened in shock when a corpse approached Jiang Yanli. When she was hit, the Yiling Patriarch had shouted in fear. When she pushed him out of the way to take a killing blow, Wei Wuxian had screamed in despair.)

Wei Wuxian’s hand continued to brush through Jin Ling’s hair. The ribbon he had been using to pull it back was now set to the side. With Wei Wuxian’s free hand he sent forth some wind, causing the light from the lamp to dim.

(Wei Wuxian hadn’t killed Jiang Yanli; Jiang Yanli had given her life to save him. In exchange, Wei Wuxian had saved Jin Ling a dozen times over. If he was here, things were safe.)

Jin Ling closed his eyes. Exhaustion from stress and emotional distress sapped away his energy. Soon, his breathing became even and slow. Wei Wuxian pulled his hand away, standing up. For a few seconds, he continued to stare at Jin Ling.

‘I wasn’t sure if touching him would just make him more stressed,’ Wei Wuxian thought. ‘After what he just saw, I wouldn’t be surprised.’

The corpse that hit Jiang Yanli had been controlled by Wei Wuxian. Jin Ling could have recoiled away in fear and disgust and no one would blame him.

Instead, he had relaxed.

Wei Wuxian began to walk, quietly returning to the room he shared with Lan Wangji. He slipped off his temporary outer robe, using the moonlight to guide his path. When he returned to the bed, Lan Wangji shifted, cracking his eyes open.

“Wei Ying?” he asked.

“Shh. Go back to sleep,” Wei Wuxian requested. “A-Ling’s sleeping in the other room.”

As he slipped under the blankets, a hand reached out and covered his own. It pulled with immense strength, dragging Wei Wuxian down. As soon as he was lying on the bed, Lan Wangji’s other arm reached out to wrap around him. He pulled Wei Wuxian against his chest.

“You’re so cuddly,” Wei Wuxian laughed. “It’s hours past bedtime for Little Lans. Shouldn’t you be trying to sleep?”

“I am,” Lan Wangji confirmed. “We’ll sleep like this.”

“Will we?” Wei Wuxian asked, nuzzling in closer. “Are you sure you don’t have any other intentions, pulling me in here?”

“Ridiculous.”

Wei Wuxian laughed at that as well, agreeing fully. After a few moments longer, he finally began to close his eyes. Neither he nor Jin Ling were done talking about what happened. It was late now, however. As a Lan-by-marriage, it was arguably long past time for Wei Wuxian to sleep, too.

They would talk tomorrow. They would have to talk tomorrow, but-

Wei Wuxian shut his eyes fully. It didn’t take long for sleep to claim him.

Nie Huaisang was about 80% sure that they were all going crazy. For one, none of the watchers had slept in the past month and a half — all the while taking in more information than they ever had before. The other watchers were pretty sure the magic of the simulation made it so they didn’t need sleep, but crazy people should never be the judges of what’s acceptable. Besides, even putting the sleep matter aside…

There was a haunted look in Jiang Cheng’s eyes. His gaze was directed at the ground, unseeing yet alert all at once. There was no doubt in Nie Huaisang’s mind that everything they had learned over the past few days was replaying in the Jiang heir’s head without end. Not even his sister would be able to snap him out of his thoughts now.

Irrelevant; she wasn’t exactly in the mood to try. A lost look had appeared on Jiang Yanli. Every now and then she would bring her hand up to her neck, hovering just over where that careless sword had speared through her other-self. She would mutter things every once in a while, speaking to the effect of ‘how could you?’ and ‘what about A-Xian’ and ‘how could you think running into a battlefield would go well?’

She and Jin Zixuan were truly meant for each other, weren’t they?

Jin Zixuan and Madam Jin seemed unable to decide whether to look at the in-between zone’s roof, the floor, or at Jiang Yanli’s all-too-quiet form. No, perhaps that wasn’t a fair description. No one felt like talking right now.

As for Madam Yu…

“Stupid idiot!” she cursed, rubbing her temples with her right hand. “How could you — of all the things…”

Her foot tapped impatiently against the floor, tension and pressure boiling over within her.

“You should’ve — it all just — if it wasn’t so fast, I-”

She cut off, growing frustrated enough to nearly pull out her own hair. Nie Huaisang wasn’t sure who, exactly, she meant when she said ‘you.’ He wasn’t even sure she knew.

‘You damn brat! I hate you! I hate you more than anything else! Look at what our sect has turned into because of you!’

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

It wasn’t confirmed that Madam Yu’s final words caused that rumor to be spread around. They hadn’t seen it happen directly. Nevertheless, the thought was there. And-

*THWACK*

Wei Wuxian stopped. He looked down.

An arrow was sticking out of his chest.

‘I got him!’ a young archer cried out, proud and exhilarated and not exhibiting even the slightest trace of remorse.

(That archer’s younger brother was the person who would kill Jiang Yanli.)

(Was it unreasonable to assume the person Madam Yu was speaking to right now was herself?)

“Stupid,” Madam Yu hissed again. “Stupid, stupid, stupid-”

*Click*

Everyone froze. Wei Wuxian had spoken to them just a few minutes ago. For him to return so soon might mean something had happened.

(And, more than anything else, it felt like a second slap in the face after what they had just seen.)

However:

“San-niang?” Jiang Fengmian asked. “A-Li? A-Cheng?”

“...A-Die?” Jiang Cheng asked back.

Jiang Fengmian seemed to breathe out a sigh of relief at his son’s voice. He then cleared his throat.

“Are you all okay?” he asked.

There was a pause.

For several seconds, it stretched on.

“...We’re fine, Fengmian,” Madam Yu declared. “Is something wrong?”

“Not… in particular,” the Sect Leader confessed. “A-Xian mentioned that you all seemed a little upset about something. I thought I… should check in. Are you sure you’re all feeling alright?”

The ensuing silence was answer enough.

“Did… something like the Burial Mounds happen again?” Jiang Fengmian inquired. “I’m the only one in this building right now. No one will overhear.”

Because Jiang Fengmian had been on the other side of things just a few days ago. He had been quiet and subdued, unwilling to face Wei Wuxian’s positivity after the massacre of Lotus Pier and the boy’s descent into the Burial Mounds.

(His own involvement in what occurred weighed on his mind to this day.)

‘But even that…’ Lan Xichen thought, ‘Isn’t on the same level as assembling an army against Wei Wuxian and the refugees he chose to protect.’

Jiang Fengmian’s lack of aggression had resulted in him not stopping Madam Yu and Wen Ruohan. Lan Xichen’s lack of confrontation had brought the Lan Sect onto the wrong side of a war. Understanding one did not mean understanding the other. The first jade pursed his lips together, unable to speak.

“We’re fine,” Wen Ruohan answered at last, seeing that no one else was going to. “We witnessed your daughter’s death today.”

Jiang Fengmian sucked a breath of air, caught off guard. They heard him swallow then clear his throat.

“I… I see,” he said.

They’d all known it was coming. This wasn’t something that could truly be prepared for, however.

“What… happened?” Jiang Fengmian asked. “Was… was A-Xian in-”

“Following Jin Zixuan’s death, the Four Great Sects of the Sunshot Campaign offered A-Ying peace in exchange for Wen Qing and Wen Ning,” Wen Ruohan interrupted, not interested in prolonging the discussion. “The exchange was made. When A-Ying went to collect their bodies, he realized the sects had gone back on their offer and were already planning an invasion.”

The other watchers flinched at his words, hating to hear them directly but unable to object. No one could offer so much as a protest — not now, at least. Jin Guangshan, the only one who emotionally could have, was not interested in angering Wen Qing or Wen Ruohan at this time.

“A fight began,” the Chief Cultivator continued. “Your daughter ran out to tell A-Ying something. He injured her by accident, overwhelmed and losing control.”

Jiang Fengmian sucked in a breath of air.

“A-Ying ran over to her side. While he was distracted, a member of the united sects approached from behind, preparing to strike. Your daughter pushed him out of the way.”

“...What?” Jiang Fengmian asked. “Wait, you mean-”

Jiang Cheng laughed, sounding hopeless and mocking and yet relieved all at once. The sound made Jiang Fengmian pause, torn between tentative hope and fear.

Sensing the man’s hesitancy (and Wen Ruohan’s willingness to let the Sect Leader stew), Lan Wangji spoke up to confirm: “Maiden Jiang gave her life to save Wei Ying’s. Neither ever wanted the other to die.”

Something Jin Ling couldn’t know.

Jiang Yanli asking Wei Wuxian to stop fighting had also been lost to time. His compliance with her request was something no one from this battle would believe. It was no wonder Jin Ling had stabbed Wei Wuxian.

(The terrible future they had once doubted seemed so inevitable, now.)

“...Ah,” Jiang Fengmian muttered back. It was hard to specify how he felt at the moment.

(His daughter was dead. Even knowing that it would happen couldn’t take the pain of the idea away. His daughter was fine in this timeline, but the potential was still there.)

It wasn’t Wei Wuxian’s fault. Jiang Fengmian’s trust wasn’t misplaced.

Though, while no one had wanted Jiang Yanli dead, it seemed like everyone had been trying to kill Wei Wuxian.

(Was that really a surprise? He had seen the way his ward was described in the far-future timeline. Most of those people would say referring to him as a demon was far too kind.)

No, more importantly than that-

“Are you… okay, A-Li?”

“Eh?” Jiang Yanli asked.

“I’m… sorry you had to watch that,” Jiang Fengmian continued. “Are you alright? Is there anything I can do to help you?”

“Ah… yes. I’m fine,” the young maiden confirmed, responding automatically and without thought. It wasn’t the truth or a lie; she simply lacked the mental strength to consider that question right now. She was neither happy nor devastated. At the moment, all she could be was ‘fine.’

“Jin-gongzi… has passed as well?” Jiang Fengmian inquired. “You said A-Xian was involved?”

“Don’t — don’t worry about that,” Jin Zixuan cut in. “It wasn’t his fault.”

It was a stronger statement than most would have made. Nonetheless, no one disagreed.

“A-Li, A-Cheng,” Jiang Fengmian called again. “You two-”

“They’re fine, Fengmian!” Madam Yu snapped. Everyone paused, turning her way.

Even Jiang Fengmian seemed taken aback, hesitating before he said, “My Lady, I was only-”

“I’m with them, aren’t I?” she shouted, her voice burning with venom. “You didn’t see any of what happened — you’re not even able to see us now! How exactly do you think you’ll be able to help?!”

Her anger was spilling out wildly, falling on Jiang Fengmian as it usually did. Madam Jin inhaled heavily but said nothing to stop it. As such, Madam Yu continued on:

“Ha. Though, of course, that wouldn’t matter to you. You left to look after Wei Wuxian just like always!”

Jiang Cheng flinched at her words, the protest he had been about to give dying before it began. Jiang Yanli kept her gaze to the ground, too tired to listen anymore.

“Sanniang, you know that’s not what it is!” Jiang Fengmian protested. “If I hadn’t left-”

“If you hadn’t left, someone else would have! They would have looked over the boy just as well as you. All anyone here cares about is the crimes committed against Wei Wuxian anyway!”

A short, amused laugh escaped from Wen Ruohan.

Lan Qiren took in a calming breath. It was true: Jiang Yanli’s death had just been shown, and yet almost none of their discussion since the segment had been about that. Questions on how to avoid it inevitably became ‘how do we keep Wei Wuxian from being in that situation.’ That was only to be expected; when the incident was an accident on all sides, what else could one do? Still, Madam Yu’s anger at their disregard was understandable. Nonetheless…

“A-Niang,” Jiang Yanli called out. “Please stop.”

Her voice was calm and steady. She had experienced a torrent of emotion over the past hour or so. Now, exhaustion seemed to be all that was left. The words made Madam Yu’s anger fluctuate for a moment, a thousand emotions flashing through her eyes, before that same anger returned.

“Of course. My mistake.” She laughed. “How dare I speak against Wei Wuxian in this household? How dare I blame him for anything?! I should have known-”

“San-niang, it-”

“Shut your mouth, Jiang Fengmian! You think I don’t know what I’ve done?!” she asked, then, spinning on her heel, cast her gaze over the other watchers. “Do you all think I don’t know? Do you think I can’t see what’s right in front of me?!”

No one spoke.

“You think I don’t know how you all look at me?! I’m not even alive at this point in the simulation, but you all still blame me for what’s happening, don’t you?!”

‘You damn brat! I hate you! I hate you more than anything else! Look what our sect has turned into because of you!'

Jin Guangshan turned an understanding gaze on Jiang Cheng, adding, ‘He’s been plotting to go to the Burial Mounds for a while, hasn’t he? With his skills, it would be child’s play to set up a sect of his own.’’

It had taken almost nothing for her son to believe that snake.

He already believed her. Why would Jin Guangshan’s words sound strange?

“A-Niang,” Jiang Yanli said again. “I know you don’t mean that. Please stop.”

For years, Jiang Yanli had been the Jiang Clan’s intermediary, serving as a soothing force whenever arguments occurred. However, even in all that time, she had never spoken to her mother in quite this manner.

“He hurt you, A-Li.”

“I know.”

“He might have killed you! We don’t know that doctors could have saved you. That’s all just speculation!”

“I know.”

“You…” Madam Yu choked, her anger and grief spilling out. “You’ve always been far too forgiving. All of you have! No matter what Wei Wuxian takes from the Jiang, you always just accept it.”

First, Jiang Cheng’s dogs.

Now, Jiang Yanli’s life.

Distantly, Jiang Cheng recalled the anger he had felt at losing his pets all those years ago. They were living creatures, not possessions. It had hurt to lose them. While it didn’t affect him much anymore, in the moment it had felt crushing. They hadn’t been killed, just taken away. His sister’s death hurt far more.

A sister’s death was an incomparable kind of pain.

“...Wen Qing was burned alive,” Jiang Cheng suddenly said. “By the great sects. I think we forgot to mention that earlier.”

An image of Wen Qing, tied to a post for execution, suddenly flashed through Jiang Cheng’s mind.

Many people looked over, momentarily perplexed by the sudden change in topic. Even Wen Qing herself looked confused by the mention. This had nothing to do with Wei Wuxian nearly killing Jiang Yanli.

(Except it had everything to do with that.)

Jiang Cheng would freely admit that empathy had never been his strong suit. A few weeks ago he would never have conceded to that, but, after witnessing his future-self, it was impossible to ignore.

Just like Jiang Yanli, Wen Qing had never hurt anyone.

Just like Jiang Yanli, Wen Qing had saved Wei Wuxian’s life.

(And Jiang Cheng’s, too.)

She stood across the room from him, directly in his line of sight. Her death, both within the simulation and among them, had barely been commented on. It was unimportant, relatively speaking.

Had Wei Wuxian viewed her as his sister too? Had he lost two older sisters that day? Had the future’s Jiang Cheng mentioned to anyone what Wen Qing had done for him?

No, probably not.

“I… see,” Jiang Fengmian recovered. “Would you like me to get your brother for you, Qing-guniang?”

“No, it’s alright,” the doctor assured. “Thank you for the offer.”

And that was that.

Madam Yu stood silently now, the topic change throwing off her anger too. Her gaze, slowly, fell upon Wen Qing. The proud woman was standing as well, both their chairs destroyed when the energy of the Stygian Tiger Seal activated in the last segment.

“Should we move the pieces of destroyed chairs to the side?” Nie Huaisang suddenly suggested. “Wouldn’t want anyone to get a splinter.”

“A splinter?” Nie Mingjue repeated with a laugh. It wasn’t a happy sound.

A splinter.

Right now, that was the concern.

A silver blade pierced through Jiang Yanli’s neck.

Ridiculous.

And yet, Nie Huaisang’s suggestion seemed to be all it took to make the room unfreeze. The Lans moved first, using the ends of their long robes to sweep bits of wood to the side. Wen Ruohan’s chair, farther back than some of the others, was still mostly intact. Nonetheless, the man used a blast of energy to send the seat to the edge of the in-between zone, not wanting to sit on something cracked. Jin Zixuan took the pieces of his and his mother’s chairs, sitting on the ground beside her shortly after.

Jiang Fengmian, despite not having the context for this flurry of motion, said nothing. He waited until the shuffling sounds stopped, assuming people had found their places again.

“We’re almost out of time,” he revealed, voice soft. “San-niang, I…”

Madam Yu exhaled softly.

“Don’t, Fengmian,” she requested. “I know.”

She wondered what sort of expression she would make if she could see Wei Wuxian in front of her now.

She wondered if she’d even be able to look at him.

“San-niang…” Jiang Fengmian began again, but seemed to give up a moment later. “Right. I understand. Once A-Xian gets back we’ll… get in contact again.”

He swallowed once.

“A-Li, A-Cheng… I love you very much. I’m… proud of you, for making it through that.”

His children’s eyes widened in surprise. They looked up in the direction of their father’s voice, trembling slightly. Then, before they could respond, there was a click marking the end of the connection.

Click.

Jin Guangshan tensed slightly.

Red.

Lan Qiren jumped.

Vibrant enough to blot out everything else in sight, dark enough to send a chill up the watchers’ spines; the once-white mourning robes Jiang Yanli wore were now drenched in the color of war. As the simulation continued to move out, allowing the watchers to see more and more of the scene before them, that fact remained. Red fabric shifted around them, encompassing them like a cocoon. Jiang Yanli’s corpse body was flat on the ground, crimson fabric draping over her and spreading out across the floor.

‘What is this?’ Wen Ruohan furrowed his brows as he scanned their surroundings. The mystifying imagery before them was difficult to understand. Jiang Yanli’s robes didn’t contain enough fabric to create this sight. Every drop of blood could have been squeezed from her body and there still wouldn’t have been enough to dye this much of the ground red.

“Shijie?!”

Wei Wuxian’s voice, though recognizable as his, was faded and distorted as though they were only hearing its echo. Wei Wuxian called out to Jiang Yanli again and again. The source of the voice — Wei Wuxian himself — was nowhere to be seen.

“Stop,” Jiang Yanli requested. “Stop them.”

The real Jiang Yanli flinched upon hearing her own voice, Wen Ruohan’s words coming back to her at once.

‘If Jiang Yanli hadn’t asked A-Ying to stop his corpses — to let the army attacking him go — she might have lived.’

Jiang Yanli glanced back at her mother. Madam Yu looked distraught — nearly pained. It was an expression Jiang Yanli had never seen on the prideful Yu Ziyuan before. She wondered if Madam Yu was recalling the same thing as her.

“A-Xian!”

“Wei Wuxian!”

SHING

A white blade pierced through the red. Its presence was all-encompassing, the white gleam enhanced by the surrounding red. The blade itself was impossibly large, looking as wide as a carriage and as long as a boat.

It had cut between Jiang Yanli and Jiang Cheng, obstructing their views of each other. Jin Zixuan had reacted at once, quickly moving to push Jiang Yanli back and stand between her and the blade. However, impossible to physically push, Jiang Yanli remained right where she was, staring up at the blade that had caused her doom.

(That had pierced through her neck. How much had it hurt?)

“A-Jie!” Jiang Cheng shouted, running around the blade to see her. It had implanted itself into the floor between them, preventing Jiang Cheng from seeing his sister until he came around. The sight stopped him in his tracks.

“A-Li?” Jin Zixuan ask. “A-Li, you’re not breathing!”

Jiang Yanli stared.

The watchers were not physically part of the simulation. The blade could not reflect her gaze. Nonetheless, its presence seemed to bear down upon her.

“You bastard! This is for my brother!”

The red around them splashed, flying into the air as though it had been disturbed from underneath.

“Huh?”

The voice of the boy in question — the confused, lost tone of the person who had skewered Jiang Yanli — rang out.

“You-! Back then, you caused the deaths of Jiang Fengmian and his wife!” Sect Leader Yao’s disembodied voice accused. “Now you’ve caused the death of your Shijie!”

What they heard next was not another accusation or even a protest. No words were spoken anymore. The red in their surroundings turned even darker than before.

Wei Wuxian screamed.

SNAP

With a gasp, Wei Wuxian woke up.

The watchers jumped as well, unprepared for the sudden change. The few still possessing chairs knocked them over as they stood, their hands falling to their sides to grab onto the swords that had once been there.

(After the last segment, it was no surprise they were a little tense.)

The place they were now was no brighter than before. Dim moonlight was the only thing illuminating the area, not even candlelight around to provide aid. However, thanks to the previous scene, the watchers had mostly adjusted to dim light. Now, the gray, rocky cave they were inside of shone clear.

Wei Wuxian sat up.

“Is he… in a prison?” Madam Yu asked. Both Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan pursed their lips. They last time they had seen Wei Wuxian, he was being attacked on all sides by the ‘righteous’ sects. After Jiang Yanli’s death, Wei Wuxian had brought the Stygian Tiger Seal out. Had he lost and been captured?

(Would those people really imprison Wei Wuxian? They had tried to kill him before he’d even attacked! Surely they would want him dead.)

And yet, as Jin Zixuan glanced back at his father, he couldn’t help but feel some doubt sink in.

Wen Qing scoffed at Jin Guangshan, laughing: ‘Yes, you only spoke about Wei Wuxian. Because my family didn’t have any Stygian Tiger Seals for you to acquire.”

However-

“Those are the scrolls he was working on,” Lan Wangji observed. Everyone’s eyes followed his gaze.

And, indeed, several scrolls sat to Wei Wuxian’s right. They were hastily marked and lacking in real structure, most of the thoughts added on spur-of-the-moment. The scrolls were the notes Wei Wuxian had made.

Brought to his cell?

No. Not with the prototypes there, too. Giving unknown tools to a prisoner would be the height of stupidity.

This was the Burial Mounds: Wei Wuxian’s home.

But…

“How… did he get here?” Lan Wangji asked.

Enemies all around. No allies left alive. People he needed to protect.

How exactly had Wei Wuxian gotten out of that?

“Maybe… maybe his corpses carried him out?”

“What are you talking about?!” Jiang Cheng snapped, nearly growling at the First Jade’s suggestion. “Last time we saw him, he was ordering his corpse army to attack everyone! You don’t think the Stygian Tiger Seal exists for retreating, do you? If he could use it to get out he should have done that sooner. If he had left, A-Jie would-”

The Jiang heir cut himself off, unable to finish that sentence. A truly sickened expression crossed his face.

“Sorry. I just meant…”

He paused again, looking down.

He had been rambling without thinking. After all, if Wei Wuxian had ‘just left’ from the beginning, then the sect’s armies would have arrived by nightfall of the next day. No one pointed that out, however. Even the most obtuse could tell it didn’t need to be said.

(Well, Wen Chao might have said it if he was there. Luckily, he had been sent off ages ago.)

Nonetheless, Lan Xichen did have to concede that their last memories didn’t line up with a retreat. If the simulation had jumped forward in time (as it often did) wouldn’t there at least be a hint of what had happened before?

“Maybe… it did occur.”

“What do you mean?”

The question was both harsh and fast, containing an edge of desperation Nie Mingjue had never heard from Wen Ruohan before. The Chief Cultivator’s gaze was zeroed in on Nie Huaisang, waiting for him to continue. Sect Leader Nie moved between them at once.

“Ah, well…” Nie Huaisang stuttered, stumbling over his words as he took a step back. “I-I just mean… we saw Wei-xiong lose control and use the Stygian Tiger Seal, but we didn’t have a chance to see anything after. The resentment became too intense. I know I fell unconscious as soon as he pulled the seal out, but… are you sure you didn’t fall asleep too? Maybe the simulation showed us how Wei-xiong got out of there and we were all just… unconscious.”

The watchers stared back, the implications settling in. They had been stuck in the simulation for several weeks so far. Not once in that time had they all collectively missed something before. Lan Wangji paled even further with concern.

“I don’t… think… I fell asleep,” Wen Ruohan mused aloud, rubbing at his temples again.

The Seal had formed.

It snapped together.

Wen Ruohan had seen some of the others fall unconscious before everything went black. He’d heard a few chairs break, too. He didn’t think he’d fallen asleep.

“How would you know if we all did?” Nie Huaisang asked, cutting through the protests and suggestions being made by the other watchers. “There aren’t any sundials in here. There isn’t even a sun! No one’s able to come in and check on us if we take too long. For all we know, there was a whole segment between now and what we last remember.”

The protesters paused, not sure how to respond.

“Out of everyone here, I’m the most used to falling unconscious because of resentment,” Nie Huaisang declared. “Most of you have felt hurt or weighed on or heavy before, but this was the first time we all got knocked out! Maybe. It happens fast! You’re awake one moment and feel like you’re waking up the next. You don’t get a few seconds of feeling sleepy or anything — it all happens at once.”

Several eyes turned to Jiang Yanli. As the other frequent-victim of the resentment, she nodded in agreement with Nie Huaisang’s words.

Lan Qiren frowned, commenting, “It seems unlikely we would have skipped exactly one segment. We fell asleep in one and woke up in before another? The in-between period is much shorter than the time over which the simulation is playing.”

“Don’t forget who we are, either,” Madam Yu insisted. “We’re not all going to spend an hour knocked out after a bit of resentment from that brat! Or do you think we’re that weak?!”

Jin Guangshan nodded, adding, “We all woke up at about the same time. If we did fall asleep, it probably wasn’t for long.”

(Unless, of course, there had been a continuous stream of resentment affecting them during the scenes they missed.)

“I-I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know!” Nie Huaisang cried out. “It’s just an idea I had. I don’t know, maybe it did skip forward and we’ll see how Wei-xiong got out later. I-I just think we shouldn’t worry about all this right now and that we should focus on the simulation. That’s all I’m saying!”

Genuine tears looked seconds away from falling out of his eyes. Nie Mingjue scowled at the other Sect Leaders, trying to shift to block them while not giving Wen Ruohan access either.

(The Chief Cultivator was still staring at Nie Mingjue’s younger brother. A chill ran down Sect Leader Nie’s back.)

And, all this while, Wei Wuxian had been sitting still. He was no longer lying down on the stone floor but he had not moved to stand yet either. He simply sat up, staring at the dark cave before him.

‘It truly does look like a prison.’

Madam Yu’s first, initial thought had proven accurate. No one in their right mind would see this as a home. What if the past Madam Yu, from half a year ago, were to find out that the future-Wei Wuxian was living in a place like this? Well, she would probably feel hope surface anew.

‘So, he left the Jiang Sect for good then?’

By choice and yet not by choice — forced by circumstance and a world that turned their back on the Wen.

(On two specific Wen who had recovered Madam Yu’s ashes and saved her son from a painful death.)

‘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.’

Was it time for that?

Now?

Now, when Wei Wuxian might not even try to fight back?

‘Maybe that’s best for everyone,’ Madam Yu thought, avoiding looking at Wei Wuxian’s uniquely soulless eyes. ‘We already know he’s going to die. That’s the first thing they told us. If he doesn’t fight back, at least no one else will get caught up in it.’

Wei Wuxian gazed blankly, hopelessly, at the cave wall before him.

Wouldn’t it be a mercy for him to die now? They had seen him wake up. He wasn’t perfect — he wasn’t unaffected — but he was better, at least. Maybe some time away from the world of the living would help him. Maybe, if her son the sects attacked now, it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe-

“Xian-gege?”

Madam Yu was far from the only watcher to pale.

A small, chubby, dirt-caked hand was pressed against the wall of the cave, the child walking along side it for fear of falling in the dark. The small figure stepped forward, his tiny head finally in Wei Wuxian’s line of sight.

“A-Yuan,” Wen Qing whispered.

They hadn’t forgotten him, per se. They knew Wei Wuxian was doing this for the Wen remnants. They knew A-Yuan was included in that group. They knew how unfair the whole situation was.

‘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.’

A-Yuan stepped forward, now old enough to walk instead of toddling toward Wei Wuxian. He reached his hands out, extending them so he could be swept up in a hug.

Wei Wuxian stared back, unable to move.

Jiang Cheng stood equally frozen, watching the scene play out.

‘Da-shixiong!’ the children at Lotus Pier had shouted. Often, they wouldn’t even be able to finish calling out to Wei Wuxian before being swept up and thrown into the air, giggling as he caught them over and over again. Jiang Cheng had rolled his eyes at the sight countless times, wondering where Wei Wuxian got so much energy from.

The current Jiang Cheng was struggling to remember why he had reacted that way.

“Xian-gege?” the child asked again.

Wei Wuxian didn’t blink nor react. It was clear now that he had not been staring at A-Yuan but rather blankly into space, lost in another time.

Jiang Yanli looked up at him.

A gleaming silver blade pierced through her throat.

Jin Zixuan flinched back at the sight. Jiang Yanli bit her lip, resisting the urge to look away.

A similar expression covered Wei Wuxian’s face, his eyes bloodshot and wide. Wei Wuxian’s hands were shaking. A-Yuan, thinking he was about to be picked up, reached out once more.

The Yiling Patriarch remained where he was, neither reaching back nor moving to stand.

In moments like this, Madam Yu couldn’t help but recall the clammoring that had occurred when they first heard of Jiang Yanli’s demise. The simulation’s revelation, given without context and yet believed wholeheartedly, had been enough to convince the past’s Yu Ziyuan:

‘I told you!’ she had shrieked. ‘I told you he’d bring nothing but trouble to our sect. And look — look what he’s-and now he’s-’

She had been shocked, then. She hadn’t fully doubted it, however. Instead, she had gone right to threatening Wei Wuxian, promising she’d get dogs to eat his corpse.

(As though he hadn’t experienced enough of that in his youth.)

(Was that fair to say? Was the Yiling Patriarch now, barely into his twenties, not also a youth? Was the teenager who had been thrown into the Burial Mounds not also far too young to pay for Madam Yu’s mistake?)

In front of Madam Yu, the real Jiang Yanli stood still, watching the simulation with tears forming in her eyes. There was nothing Madam Yu could say to comfort her. She had no right.

Clouds passed over the moon, further darkening the cave. After a few moments, an elderly woman, Granny Wen, walked in.

“A-Yuan! That’s enough!” she whispered harshly, picking the boy up. “Don’t disturb the Young Master right now.”

“Xian-ge?” A-Yuan asked, looking over the woman’s shoulder.

Wei Wuxian’s gaze remained unchanged, focused at the ground.

Night passed by. Eventually, morning came. Wei Wuxian was lying down once more, but had otherwise not moved from where he was.

Jiang Cheng glanced at the cave opening. When they’d heard footsteps approach, it was from Granny Wen looking for A-Yuan. At the time, Jiang Cheng had half-expected their source to be his future self. It would make sense, he had thought. The alliance’s invasion was the next event they knew of. Maybe, just maybe, the future Jiang Cheng had arrived to warn Wei Wuxian. Maybe the Patriarch had been too dazed to respond in time. Maybe Jiang Cheng hadn’t wanted Wei Wuxian to die.

Jiang Yanli’s white robes had been dyed red with blood. Jiang Cheng held two finger 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 that it’d be fine?!’

A more than understandable reaction. You would have to be delusional to expect anything else.

And what about burning down the Burial Mounds? Killing Wei Wuxian? Massacering the Wen remnants? In the end, it wasn’t by Wei Wuxian that Jiang Yanli had met her end.

Footsteps were appraoching. Jiang Cheng stared at the entrance again, waiting for his other self to arrive.

Once again, A-Yuan peaked his head in instead.

Relief instantly came over Jiang Cheng.

(Relief he wouldn’t be feeling if he genuinely believed his other self could be trying to save them.)

“Xian-gege!” A-Yuan whisper-shouted, wanting to be heard but not found by his elders. “Xian-gege, come play?”

He held out one of the sad, worn-down dolls his grandmother had made him. Wei Wuxian was unmatched when it came to acting out the radish-eating monster that doll was meant to be.

Usually, at least.

“Xian-gege?”

A-Yuan was right before him again, holding the doll out once more. A determined look formed on his face.

“Xian-gege, let’s play.”

No response was given.

Wen Ruohan took several steps closer to Wei Wuxian, analyzing him closely. It was almost comical, how different he and Wen Ruohan were in their respective final moments. Even after losing countless cultivators to an ultimately meaningless battle, Wen Ruohan had been nothing but gleeful about his capture of Nie Mingjue. Wei Wuxian, who had killed far more at a much smaller manpower cost, looked about as far from that as one could be.

‘His body is full of resentment,’ Wen Ruohan observed. ‘After having to use the seal like he did, I suppose that makes sense.’

Was his dispondance right now partly because of that? It was hard to say. The lingering effects of overfilling a demonic cultivator’s body with resentment were entirely unknown.

Wei Wuxian was the first demonic cultivator.

The great sects had destroyed him for that.

The Wen child continued trying to get Wei Wuxian’s attention, making numerous requests to play. Concern was clear in the child’s gaze but a lack of understanding prevented him from stopping his attempts. The world seemed coated with a red haze.

A scream was heard in the distance.

Wei Wuxian blinked once.

“What was that?!” Nie Mingjue demanded, marching to the entrance of the cave. “What just-”

He froze, his eyes widening in horror. The other watchers rushed over as well.

In the distance, at the edge of the Burial Mounds, the orange glow of a fire surrounded a meager settlement there.

More screams followed.

At last, Wei Wuxian stood. He marched to the same entrance as the watchers, moving through them seamlessly like they weren’t even there.

And they indeed weren’t.

They could not interfere. They could not help.

Lan Wangji could taste his powerlessness. It was a familiar sensation, now.

That sensation only intensified with every scream they heard. Wei Wuxian left the cave fully, beginning to stumble down the hill toward the light. A-Yuan followed close behind.

The screams got louder. Wei Wuxian began to run.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they found someone running in the opposite direction.

“Granny Wen!” Wei Wuxian shouted. “What’s going-”

“We’re under attack!” the woman shouted. “They got through! The sects! It’s the sects! I saw the flag of the Jiang Sect down there!”

As if ice water had been dunked over their heads, the watchers collectively froze.

The small bit of hope Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng had clung to about their future selves vanished in an instant.

‘No.’ Jiang Cheng shook his head, swallowing once. ‘No, maybe she just… maybe it’s somehow-’

“What? But the barrier — no, it doesn’t matter,” Wei Wuxian shook his head, picking the child by his legs up and handing him over. “Take A-Yuan and hide in the demon-slaughtering cave!”

The old woman struggled to grab hold of the child, bearing his weight through sheer adrenaline even as the young boy struggled in her arms. Looking at this sight, anyone who tried to describe her as a threat would almost certainly be laughed out of the room.

And yet, at this time, their future selves would surely disagree.

“A barrier?” Lan Qiren repeated, not wanting to speculate about his own future self quite yet. “When did he set that up?”

It was hard to tell. Wei Wuxian had been in the burial mounds for quite some time. The instinctive fear people had of the land had decreased the longer people were shown to live there. Hadn’t they already seen many aspiring disciples of the Patriarch come far closer to the mounds than anyone would have before this decade? Those disciples hadn’t made it past the corpses, of course, but their attempts had seemed comedic rather than asinine. With the rising tensions between Wei Wuxian and the sects, perhaps a barrier wasn’t a surprise.

But, if that was the case, how had the sects gotten by?

The first option — and the one most watchers immediately came to — was Wei Wuxian. Just a few moments before they had seen the state he was in. Expecting someone, no matter how brilliant they usually were, to maintain a barrier under the stress and sleeplessness Wei Wuxian was experiencing was foolish at best.

The second option was that the sects had simply broken it open. Exhausted as he was, Wei Wuxian may not have noticed until too late.

The third option, which no one present wanted to speak out loud, had to do one of the only guests the Burial Mounds had previously allowed in without question.

A group of cultivators flew across the sky. When one approached the entrance to the Burial Mounds, the corpses surrounding the site roared. It was possible that the corpses themselves were the barrier Wei Wuxian had mentioned a short while before. Either way, they served as a clear no-entry point.

However, when Jiang Wanyin stepped forward, the corpses stepped aside. They came back to prevent the Jiang disciples from following him, but not a single one moved to touch Jiang Cheng.

‘Wait at the bottom of the mountain,’ Sect Leader Jiang had instructed. ‘I’ll go alone.’

He had been let in once before.

Surely, after the Pledge Confrence, Wei Wuxian would have told the corpses to keep him out?

‘Huh? It’s you,’ Jin Ling commented, meeting Wei Wuxian as Mo Xuanyu for the first time. ‘What? You lost your memory after you were driven away? You don’t even recognize our coat of arms?’

Wei Wuxian had made a soft noise of realization, finally understanding what sect Mo Xuanyu had been a part of.

‘Hey, what are you muttering about over there?!’

Ignoring him, Wei Wuxian had continued, ‘At the first siege of the Burial Mounds, Jiang Cheng ranked first, and Jin Guangshan must have been second. How hilarious that I’ve got his bastard son’s body now. What a mess.’

‘Jiang Cheng had ranked first.’ That wasn’t a rumor Wei Wuxian heard; just experiencing the battle was enough to tell him that.

(Of course he would rank first. Jiang Yanli was dead. Wei Wuxian had-

But he han’t.

But he still-

But this couldn’t-)

“NO!”

The two adults looked down at once, panic and exhaustion nearly making Wei Wuxian slap A-Yuan’s grabbing hand off his robes. Luckily, he managed to stop himself just in time. He panted heavily, still barely in a state to stand, much less fight.

“A-Yuan, let go.”

“No! I’m not! I’m not! Xian-gege, come with us,” he shouted, grabbing on tighter and resisting the adult’s pulls with all his might. He might not understand all the details of what was happening, but the child was far from stupid. He had lived through the Jin Sect’s internment camps. He knew what Wei Wuxian separating would mean.

“A-Yuan, let go.”

Through tears, the child continued to shake his head.

“Come with us!” the boy bawled. “Please! Please, Xian-gege. Don’t go! Don’t-”

With a quick flick of his hand, Wei Wuxian threw a talisman onto the boy’s chest. Before a second had passed, A-Yuan went limp and closed his eyes.

“Take him and go!” Wei Wuxian ordered, breaking into a run. Granny Wen nodded once, holding the boy closer to her chest as she began making her way up the hill. However, far from being a deadly cultivator, her progress was agonizingly slow.

Wen Qing, watching her mother’s aunt flee, was filled with a sense of crushing, agonizing despair.

‘Please make it out,’ she begged. ‘Please, don’t let them be noticed.’

And yet, with every stumble the elderly woman took on her way up the hill, the meager hope Wen Qing had faded bit by bit.

The simulation moved along, following after Wei Wuxian as he raced toward the houses down the hill. They burned orange now, setting the dry field aglow much like the setting sun had a few segments ago.

If one had to pinpoint the biggest difference between now and then, it would be the screams currently filling the air.

Jiang Yanli winced when the cries began and flinched every time one was cut off abruptly. Jin Zixuan moved close, trying to wrap his arms around her in a mimicry of a hug. Jiang Cheng remained distant.

A voice that was vaguely recognizable was crying out in pain.

Both the attackers and attacked were likely to have voices the watchers could recognize. Right now, however, only one side had a chance of making those sounds.

A few weeks ago, Nie Mingjue would have been delighted to know the last of the Wens would sound like that. He was sure his other self was ecstatic to be a cause.

In fact, his other self had probably leapt at the chance to take part.

And to think he had once thought of himself as someone who spared civillians. Turned out that only counted for innocents not named ‘Wen.’

Bile rose up in his throat.

Wei Wuxian didn’t hesitate for a moment longer. Finally close enough to take part, he raised his flute to his lips and sent out an urgent call.

🎵♪

Short and simple, yet filled with power.

Stop the intruders.

The original citizens of the Burial Mounds had spent years with their patriarch’s guests. While their brains no longer functioned like a human’s, recognition was still possible.

Nie Mingjue himself was a perfect example of that:

When the headless body of the former Sect Leader had heard Lan Xichen’s song, it had frozen and turned to face him. That had been the final piece of evidence needed for the future’s Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji to confirm that it was Nie Mingjue they had been collecting bit by bit.

At the time, Nie Mingjue had been disgusted by what had happened to his body. It had been a grave violation of his corpse and a signal of just how terribly the far future had gone.

The brief thought that he might be committing fewer injustices right now if this version was already a fierce corpse was hard to ignore.

Low, inhuman growls indicative of the dead rang out as the corpses began to move. Now, the screams of the invading cultivators joined the fray. At least a dozen cultivators who were caught off guard fell before they could react. Corpses bit into their necks, ripping off heads in a violent manner. Hands shot out of the ground, grabbing onto the legs of fleeing young masters and pulling them to the ground. They would be torn limb from limb shortly after.

Every cultivator had come here knowing the danger, however. Orders were swiftly called out, the combatants regrouping into a more defensive formation. Standard form, swiftly executed; there were no complaints to give.

Lan Qiren wondered where the strange sense of numbness he was feeling came from. These cultivators screaming out now included the Lan. He could see white robes becoming stained with blood. That wasn’t a surprise. They had known from the beginning that this would be the case.

What was a surprise was the use of Lan tactics by those not in the clan.

In hindsight, however, it probably shouldn’t have been a shock. Most of the older generation had died in the war. The leaders of this battle were primarily people who had, for a time, studied at Gusu — who had been Lan Qiren’s students at some point or another.

In the very first segment, the watchers had been blissfully, insurmountably ignorant of what had transpired in the previous twenty years. They, unsurprisingly, had reacted with prejudice.

‘That man is no longer the boy you once knew,’ Lan Qiren declared, sending the Yiling Patriarch a look of absolute disgust. ‘If he was willing to turn to — to create demonic cultivation, there’s no telling what his limits are.’

The army had recovered quickly. The cultivators stood grouped into circles, prioritizing safety over effectiveness. Any soldier lost was a fierce corpse the Patriarch gained. And yet, despite that, one would break formation every once in a while. Each time, it was with the express purpose of skewering a hiding, elderly Wen.

Students of Lan Qiren — disciples who, in the current time, were predominantly children — were dying in droves. Lan Qiren should be mourning them. If all was well, ‘Teacher Lan’ would be filled with rage at the demonic cultivator responsible for these deaths.

Instead, throughout it all, all he felt was numb.

Wei Wuxian rushed forward, joining the fray. He sought out all the hiding Wen he could, seeking to bring those too weak to run to shelter. The glow of the fire cast a red light upon the field, making it difficult to distinguish what sect each cultivator was from. It wasn’t impossible, however. There was a distinctive gleam of gold embroidered on the dark uniforms of the Nie sect that those familiar with the robes could not miss.

There, holding the decapitated head of a Wen in his hand, was Nie Mingjue.

The Sect Leader shut his eyes, but that image remained seared into his mind. His other-self had not been smiling, but there was no regret or hesitation in his gaze either. That Nie Mingjue had seen the elderly, sickly, malnourished Wen and still chose to-

“Open your eyes.”

Upon registering the command, Nie Mingjue did. He flinched at the vibrant sea of blood growing before him, not having fully realized he’d closed his eyes, and look over at the person who had just spoken to him.

“What?! You-!”

Nie Mingjue cut off.

Wen Ruohan calmly gazed back.

Sect Leader Nie continued on, not needing to take part in a defensive formation and thus striking down any corpse in his path with a deadly grace. The cultivation he used was tinged with resentment and corruption, a tell-tale sign of the Nie Sect’s unconventional cultivation style.

The resentful corpses of freshly-slain Wen stood up to face him.

“Keep looking,” Wen Ruohan recommended. “It’s the least you can do. I certainly never looked away.”

Nie Mingjue nearly scoffed, biting back, “Because you never regretted anything shown!”

The unpoken admission about his own feelings froze Lan Xichen in place. Despite keeping his eyes on the fight, he couldn’t help listening to their words.

(It was against the rules to eavesdrop.)

(Look where their rules had gotten them.)

Wei Wuxian paused, looking down at the decapitated body of one of the people he had given up everything to protect. Numerous arrows were implanted into the woman’s chest, a slash from a sword or saber having cut through her clothes and inadvertently exposed her chest. This was a reoccuring trend now. Every hiding space he looked had a distinct lack of living Wen. Thus far, he hadn’t managed to save even a single one.

He knelt, guarded by numerous corpses behind him, and tied pieces of the Wen woman’s shirt together, covering her again. It was a futile attempt — the beheaded woman had no capacity for shame — but the task was dutifully completed nonetheless.

🎵🎵🎵♪

The corpse tensed, then jerked. As Wei Wuxian stepped back, the Wen woman rose to her feet once more. The empty stump where her neck had been continued to bleed, but the woman’s nails could function as weapons in place of her teeth.

Though Wen were still being made into corpses, they were not Wei Wuxian’s enemies at the current time.

‘If only I had…’

Instead of finishing that thought, Wen Ruohan spoke aloud:

“It’s not that I have no regrets.”

Nie Mingjue jerked, having been too absorbed in the battle around them to remember the conversation being had.

“You… What?”

“Many of my choices in this future were… impulsive,” Wen Ruohan continued. “A result of impatience. If I had planned better, someone as capable as A-Ying would never have been thrown into the Burial Mounds alone.”

Both Madam Yu and Jiang Cheng bristled at the comment, feeling revolution at the affectionate address. However-

“Don’t look away from this.”

At that conclusion, no one present could speak up. Wen Ruohan had turned back toward the simulation, effectively ending the conversation. After a moment, Nie Mingjue did the same.

Nie, Jiang, Jin, and Lan disciples were falling steadily, brought down by the corpse’s fierce attacks even with their careful strategies. It was a sight that would inspire feelings of revulsion and hatred against demonic cultivation in any normal cultivator.

In fact, remembering their reaction to the very first scene the simulation had shown them, it was no exaggeration to say that plans to enact revenge against him would have immediately been made.

And yet-

‘The Sunshot Campaign was a battlefield,’ Luo Qingyang argued, frowning at the hypocrisy of the sects. ‘Under that logic, everyone who participated in battle would be ‘killing indiscriminately.’’

Nie Mingjue’s future self had been impressed by her words, commending her bravery.

The current Nie Mingjue cut down the revived corpses of Wen without a trace of doubt.

It was a grusome sight. Not particularly exhilerating either, given the context behind it. Despite that, everyone from Wen Ruohan and Wen Qing to Jiang Yanli and Nie Huaisang kept their eyes on the scene before them.

(Jin Guangshan watched the Jin soldiers carefully, wondering if he had any plans to capture Wei Wuxian. While it could be argued the Yiling Patriarch was too dangerous to risk leaving alive, it was far from an easy choice to make.)

Wei Wuxian fought and fought. Though he never once called upon his blade, no one in or outside of the simulation would underestimate the danger of his music. As notes continued to flurry by, the battle wore on and on.

Lan Wangji gazed over the battlefield for the tenth time, taking count of all the Lan present. With every glance, he found himself furrowing his brow further at the lack of his own presence in the battle. Not even his brother — physically identical to him in all ways except expression — was anywhere to be found.

(It should be reassuring that he wasn’t joining this atrocity.)

(Instead, all it left him with was more questions.)

(If his other-self truly did nothing, simply believing that not participating in the battle was enough to keep his hands clean, then Lan Wangji knew that nothing he did in the far future would be enough to warrant forgiveness.)

‘Why aren’t you here?’ he asked himself. ‘You saw A-Yuan. You met the residence of the Burial Mounds. How could you let this happen? How could you not even try to save them?!’

Morally speaking, he was in a far better place than all the soldiers actively in combat.

It didn’t feel that way, however.

A flash of purple lightning was emitted from the side.

The three Jiangs present paled at once. They did not whisper desperate denials as they had at the start of the simulation, when Wei Wuxian’s death was first revealed. Instead, a horrified acceptance seemed to settle over them.

Zidian snapped forth, tearing a fierce corpse to shreds.

The sight of a teenage Wei Wuxian being beaten by that very same whip at the Wen’s behest filled the minds of more than one watcher here. Madam Yu tensed even further.

Though they could not see Jiang Cheng yet, the purple light given off every time the whip made contact with someone was getting closer and closer to where the Patriarch was.

‘Yiling Patriarch Wei Wuxian is dead!’

‘Really? Who killed him?’

‘Who else? His old friend Jiang Cheng, leader of the Jiang Clan.’

Wei Wuxian had denied this. Rumors weren’t always accurate.

(They weren’t always inaccurate either, though.)

Even with the loud battle all around, the distinctive crackling sound given off by the legendary whip was easy to pinpoint as it approached. Purple flashed from Wei Wuxian’s right.

“Damn it! Where is your future-self?!” Jiang Cheng couldn’t help but snap, glaring at Lan Wangji. “Wei Wuxian needs help! And-”

(And…)

(And Jiang Cheng’s future-self clearly wasn’t offering any.)

“A-Cheng,” Jiang Yanli whispered. Said heir pulled back, looking up and meeting Lan Wangji’s wide eyes.

(He knew it wasn’t fair to say that. He knew it made no sense to blame him. And yet-)

“We found them!” a loud voice shouted from the distance. While normally that wouldn’t be enough to make anyone mid-fight pause, the unusual nature of the words had Wei Wuxian looking back.

Granny Wen’s head had been mounted atop a rogue cultivator’s spear.

Wen Qing felt the world slow down. All sound seemed to disappear. All color left her line of sight.

First, her parents.

Then, her clan.

Then, her brother — murdered by his captors and then turned into a fierce corpse.

And now, Granny Wen.

But then…

“If… she’s there….” Wen Qing forced herself to swallow, her hands starting to tremble. “...Where’s A-Yuan?”

No one could respond.

In the next few seconds, several eternaties seemed to transpire. Answers to that question formed in everyone’s minds. Jiang Yanli blinked rapidly, feeling her tears at last start to fall. At the same time, bile rose in Lan Xichen’s mouth. They felt sick beyond compare.

They were sure everyone who could see their future selves there felt far worse.

(Lan Qiren, who appeared to be leading the Lan Sect’s charge in the future Lan Xichen’s unexplained absence, was so pale he seemed nearly translucent.)

And Wei Wuxian, upon laying his eyes on that same sight, had the same thought run through his mind.

‘Granny Wen?’ he wondered.

Though the battle continued around him, the world seemed to slow around Wei Wuxian.

‘But then… what about A-Yuan?’

A brief image of A-Yuan — of that sweet, sweet, thoughtful child sitting in a pile of mud — flashed through Wei Wuxian’s mind.

Wen Ruohan briefly wondered if Wei Wuxian would be the last person in that world to think kindly of a Wen.

(He didn’t have to wonder whether he was to blame.)

‘But if A-Yuan…. But then-’

Wei Wuxian had stopped playing his flute entirely. His already rapid breaths started coming out faster and faster. Resentful energy flooded the surrounding space as the famed Yiling Patriarch started to — for lack of a better description — hyperventalate.

If Granny Wen was dead, then A-Yuan had almost certainly been found.

The inhuman growls of resentful corpses filled the air. The Wen who had been farming these very lands were no more. Fire blazed in the distance.

If this was the Burial Mounds now, then any chance of A-Yuan’s future was gone.

Countless screams resounded as more cultivators fell.

If A-Yuan was gone, then-

Then-

Everything Wei Wuxian had sacrificed — everything Wei Wuxian had done — flashed across the screen. Jiang Yanli’s pale corpse stood out prominantly in the display. The cries of her infant son sounded out as well.

If A-Yuan was dead….

‘Then what was the point?’

…

……

…………….

…………………………..

……………………………………………………………..

Something had snapped.

No watcher would be able to explain why, but they all unquestionably knew this to be true.

A strange calm abruptly settled over the watchers. As though he they had come to a new understanding of the situation, all the hatred and guilt in their hearts simply disappeared.

Wei Wuxian looked up at the battle before him. Within his robes, directly over his heart, a small object began emitting a red glow.

As though one with the thoughts of their Patriarch, the watchers all knew his intentions even before he moved. As such, it came as no surprise when he reached into his robe and removed the Tiger Seal so coveted by the world.

“It’s the Stygian Tiger Seal!” someone shouted. The man’s words were muffled and distorted by the ringing of the surrounding resentment, but the desire within them was clear nonetheless.

Jin Zixuan nearly laughed when he saw all the members of his own sect perk up at the weapon, not displaying any of the fear he had expected. In fact, if it weren’t for the wave of serenity they were all feeling right now, he probably would have cried.

Power flowed into the seal, but the instructions imbued within were not what any of the watchers present had expected.

In hindsight, perhaps they should have known that this would come.

The resentment rose and rose. With it, the ringing became louder.

Piiiiiiiiinnnnnggggg.

A strange lightheadedness filled the watchers now. Though slightly different in flavor, it was a familiar feeling. In the last segment, an intensity like this had appeared shortly before they were knocked out. Some of the weaker members could feel that transition happening already.

And yet…

‘I can’t fall asleep now.’

‘I can’t let myself look away from this.’

It was the least they owed.

Logically, they should raise their own power to fight back as strongly as possible. Logically, spiritual cultivation would be the best way to strike back.

'Spiritual energy is energy, but resentment and wrath can become types of energy too. Why can't we make good use of them? When Yu the great tamed the flood, obstruction was the inferior method and redirection was superior.'

For some reason, at that moment, fighting back against Wei Wuxian's energy felt wrong. And so, instead of resisting it, they now allowed the energy to flow through them. Despite being resentment, this energy had none of the aggressiveness they had come to expect. As if by unspoken agreement, the watchers silently and yet collectively begged the resentment to allow them to stay.

(Right now, the only thing here they were not scared of was Wei Wuxian. The instinctive resistance of resentment they had all been born and raised to accept seemed so trivial, now.)

‘Let me see.’

‘Let me see it.’

‘Please, let me see.’

And this unusual resentment, carrying no hostility to the people all around, was happy to oblige.

After all, what was filling the Stygian Tiger Seal now was not a command to attack.

The gossiping tavern guests, serving as their introduction to the simulation, had disagreed on nearly every detail here. Whether it was three of five thousand people in the Nightless City; who, exactly, had dealt the finishing blow against Wei Wuxian. There was one thing they had all agreed on, however:

‘He destroyed the seal before he died. At least he did one good thing.’

And now, that very seal was filling itself with more energy than they had ever seen before. Countless cultivators were reaching toward it, trying to pry the near-mythic weapon from Wei Wuxian’s hands. However, right as the closest man seemed to brush the tips of his fingers against Wei Wuxian’s sleeve, blinding red light filled the peak and everyone within a thousand meter radius was sent flying back.

As was Jin Guangshan, the only watcher who still felt fear when resentful energy approached. Flung several feet back and crashing onto the floor, the sect leader of the Jin sect fell unconscious a moment later.

Not even Jin Zixuan glanced back at him.

How could they? The blinding red light of the Stygian Tiger Seal had the invading sects flinching away, but what reason would the watchers have to do the same?

While they did feel some fear, it was not, in this moment, for themselves.

“Wei Wuxian, run!” Jiang Cheng shouted.

The blinding light faded. The Yiling Patriarch stood still. The dirt around him was reddish-brown with blood. However, compared to the intoxicating scarlet of a moment before, the world now seemed almost completely devoid of color.

From Wei Wuxian’s hands, the shattered remains of the Stygian Tiger Seal fell to the floor.

And, in the absence of its power — in the sudden lack of instructions or guidance or intent — the corpses turned their hunger on the greatest source of energy on the mounds instead.

“...Hey, what are the corpses-”

“Huh?!”

“Hey! They’re all-!”

“Oh, Heavens,” the Lan Qiren gasped.

The commander of this attack, standing proudly as the lightning-shouded leader of the Jiang Sect, froze. For the first time this night, uncertainty seemed to flash in his eyes.

“Wei Wuxian?” he asked.

Jiang Yanli stared, unable to move.

Lan Wangji could not breathe.

All the while, fierce corpses piled on, biting into Wei Wuxian in a viscious mockery of his first excursion into the mounds. Countless hands tore into his fragile robes, tearing flesh from his limbs and opening their mouths wide to eat their fill.

The watchers had become quite sensitive to resentful energy throughout this experience. Now that they had willingly allowed resentful energy into their souls, they were probably nearly identical to resentful spirits — in terms of physcial make-up, if nothing else. At this moment, they would have heard without question any command the Yiling Patriarch gave.

A request for the corpses to stop never came.

‘I heard, since he cultivated the dark path, his powers backfired during battle and he was torn to a fine powder by his own ghost soldiers. If so, serves him right. The ghost soldiers he had were like mad dogs, biting everyone they came across! In the end, they turned their fangs on him!’

It had seemed strangely fitting at the time. A classic case of one man’s hubris being his own downfall. ‘Of course he lost control. He was a fool for thinking he could master resentment in the first place.’

Wei Wuxian’s screams filled the air, yet the resentment remained steady.

He had ‘done it to himself?’

Not even Madam Yu would be able to say that now.

Lan Qiren stood still, trying to not envision what every crunch and chew referred to in the pile of bodies that now covered Wei Wuxian, blocking out any sight of him. With every second that passed, that became a harder and harder task.

(The simulated cultivators were cheering. This was justice to them.)

“...What have we done?” Lan Qiren murmured, not seeing the way Madam Yu flinched at his words.

The cheering was now so loud that the corpses could no longer be heard. It was hard to call the sound that replaced it pleasant, however. The near-feral shouts of the surrounding cultivators displayed no aversion to this series of events. Of the few who did not show happiness, their gazes were not directed at Wei Wuxian. Rather, it was the broken remains of the Stygian Tiger Seal that caused the dissatisfaction they displayed.

While the simulation was loud, the watchers were dead silent. Jin Zixuan and Nie Huaisang were frozen still, unwilling to look away and yet having to fight with every instinct in their body to remain. The sight before them was gruesome and disturbing beyond anything they had experienced on a night hunt before.

And it was happening to Wei Wuxian.

Nie Mingjue couldn’t help but recall his own body, mutilated and desecrated in a future not too far away. Looking upon his future-self, he wondered if it was deserved.

Lan Xichen briefly turned to look at Lan Wangji. The young Lan stood beside their Uncle, his hands clenched together. Neither of them knew where their future selves were.

(In some ways, that was almost worse.)

The carnage continued.

Jiang Cheng glanced back, his eyes landing on his future-self.

Neither the other cultivators’ joy nor deep despair could be seen. In fact, even the anger the future Jiang Wanyin constantly spit out was nowhere to be found now. The future Sect Leader Jiang gazed at the scraps of blood-soaked fabric that used to be Wei Wuxian with a chillingly blank gaze.

‘It’s like he’s become one of the Twin Jades,’ Jiang Cheng scoffed. ‘Some ‘Two Prides of Yunmeng’ we ended up being.’

It was truly laughable.

(Especially since, right now, the real versions of both of the Twin Jades were showing far more on their faces than the future Jiang Cheng. The current version couldn’t read his future self at all — didn’t even want to try. Whether he was feeling guilt or relief or vindication or regret didn’t matter. It wouldn’t change what was happening to Wei Wuxian now.)

A finger flew into the air. Wei Wuxian’s — dropped by a clumsy corpse. Someone in the crowd shouted at the others to invade the Demon Slaughtering Cave. Whether they were looking for survivors or treasure was unclear, but many surged to follow regardless. A moment later, the displaced finger was gabbed by a new corpse, swallowed a moment later.

For the first time since the simulation began, Wen Ruohan looked away.

The simulation began moving away from this outcome, the fires growing dimmer as they faded into the distance.

Lan Wangji bit his tongue, tasting blood as he forced himself to remain seated. Attacking the simulation would do nothing. He would simply phase through if he tried.

And yet-

(How dare the great sects calls themselves ‘righteous?’ How, when Wei Ying had done so much good and ended up like this? How dare any of them say his name?)

“The Yiling Patriarch has fallen!” one cultivator shouted. The cheers turned into a chant, each cultivator reveling in their victory.

‘Why? Why? Why?’

Even Lan Wangji didn’t truly know what he was asking.

The screen darkened, then lit once more. Now, they were in a tavern. Though it was a different location, it appeared nearly identical to the first scene the simulation had shown. With every word that was said, that feeling became increasingly clear.

“The Yiling Patriarch has died? Who could have killed him?”

“Who other than his shidi, Jiang Cheng, putting an end to his own shixiong for the greater good. Jiang Cheng led the four clans of Yunmeng, LanlingJin, GusuLan, and QingheNie to destroy his ‘den,’ the Burial Mounds.”

They had seen it themselves. Jiang Cheng had not done that.

He might as well have.

Although it mader sense the moment he thought about it, the last thing Jiang Cheng expected to hear after those words was cheers. And yet-

“I must say, good riddance!”

“Good riddance, indeed! We’ve finally eliminated this scourge?”

“‘We?’” Wen Ruohan repeated mockingly, raising a brow. However, while the pronoun wasn’t accurate in any literal sense, it was still a telling indication of the general consensus among the public:

The whole world was against Wei Wuxian. If something happened to him, it was a victory for the world.

Jin Zixuan shut his eyes, but couldn’t get the image of Wei Wuxian being torn apart out of his head.

“If not for the YungmengJiang Clan adopting and teaching him, he would have been a beggar living on the streets! Forget causing mayhem like he had these days — he wouldn’t even be able to lift a sword!”

Madam Yu wondered how many times she had shouted something to that effect before.

“The head of the Jiang Clan raised him like his own child, yet he defected and became the enemy of the cultivation world, bringing shame upon the Jiang Clan and even leading to its near extermination! He is the prime example of biting the hand that feeds him!”

This time, neither Madam Yu nor Jiang Cheng could withhold a flinch.

‘You damn brat!’ the prideful Madam shouted. ‘I hate you! I hate you more than anything else! Look what our sect has turned into because of you!’

Then, fresh off a staged fight, Jiang Cheng turned to the world and said, ‘Wei Wuxian had betrayed the sect and publicly regards all cultivation sects as his enemy! Yunmeng Jiang hereby expells him, breaking all ties and drawing a clear line between us! From now on, no matter what he does, it will have nothing to do with Yunmeng Jiang!’

They had wondered, right at the beginning, how Wei Wuxian had gotten such a terrible reputation.

(They should have known that only the words of the gentry would hold this much weight.)

One bar patron scoffed, swirling his drink in his cup as he commented, “Jiang Cheng allowed this fellow to live for far too long. If I were him, at the time of his defection I wouldn’t have just stabbed him. In fact, I would have thoroughly examined my clan’s disciples so he couldn’t do the crazy things they did later on!”

(Sandu had impaled Wei Wuxian. The point was to prove to everyone that they were no longer allies. It was annoying to a cultivator. It could be deadly to someone without a core.)

Wen Qing couldn’t help but send a sharp glare Jiang Wanyin’s way. The boy simply shrank down further at her gaze, a deep shame coloring his cheeks. The anger Wen Qing had half-expected him to send her way never came.

(Why? This all started the moment she asked Wei Wuxian for help. Why wouldn’t he blame her? Was he accepting her glare because he knew he was the most to blame?)

But…

(She had asked for help. Jiang Cheng had led the siege using Wei Wuxian’s own core and didn’t help when asked to. Lan Wangji was nowhere to be found, simply allowing his sect to launch this attack. Nie Huaisang had stayed back, not lifting his voice to intervene. Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan had not understood their own sects, inviting Wei Wuxian straight into a trap. Lan Xichen, Nie Mingjue, and Lan Qiren had not investigated the Wens themselves, ‘ignoring justice and morality’ for the sake of their own prejudices. Madam Yu and Madam Jin had contributed through the manner in which they had raised their children. Both Wen Ruohan and Jin Guangshan had contributed in ways that were unquestionable.)

When the Wen had attacked the Jiang, blame had been thrown around liberally. Accusations had flown left and right, no one truly coming out unscathed. Now, with the Jiang, Jin, Lan, and Nie attacking the remaining Wen, the watchers seemed too exhausted to even attempt that.

Wen Qing’s thoughts kept her from focusing on the simulation, but it was hard to say anything of value was being missed.

“That’s all hearsay. Although Jiang Cheng was one of the main forces, he did not give Wei Wuxian the final blow. He was a cultivator of the Demonic Path. They say his powers backfired on him and he was ripped to pieces.”

Laughter broke out throughout the simulation.

Not a single watcher joined in.

“Ha! That’s karma,” the bartender announced. “The ghost soldiers he created were like wild dogs, biting everyone they came across! It serves him right to be chewed to death.”

Jiang Yanli gazed at the floor, her expression empty. A cold, resentful anger she was unused to was filling her mind. Even then, she knew her own powerlessness was what hurt the most.

“But, if not for Jiang Cheng making a plan that aimed at Wei Wuxian’s weakness, the siege might not have succeeded!” an elderly man pointed out. “Should I remind you folks of the item Wei Wuxian possesses?”

Noises of agreement were heard all around.

Jiang Cheng was now paler than a ghost.

Most of what the travelers had said so far was misguided or distorted half-truths. In the initial scene, the gossipers hadn’t been sure whether it was three or five thousand people Wei Wuxian had killed. None of the civillians really knew what was going on. Putting too much trust in the nonsense they said would be setting yourself up for failure.

(But there was a chance it was true. Hadn’t Jiang Cheng himself been wondering why the Burial Mound’s defenses were so weak?)

It probably wasn’t true.

(But he couldn’t be sure.)

“He’s most certainly out of his mind.”

“It’s a good thing he destroyed that evil weapon before he died. If it was left behind in this world and continued to harm humankind, his sins would have been even worse.”

Wen Qing, Nie Mingjue, and Nie Huaisang glanced over at the Jin Clan members sitting to the side. Upon doing that, they noticed Jin Zixuan staring at his father with a heavy look in his eyes.

“But, you know, if his soul is summoned back-”

“And unleash a vengeful spirit upon this land? Who would be crazy enough to do that?”

They all knew the answer already.

And yet, despite everything else lining up, Wei Wuxian had not been a vengeful spirit when summoned. Despite the way he died and the suffering he faced, he had been playful and unconcerned when returned to life.

‘A-Xian, you were born with a smiling face,’ Jiang Yanli said. ‘Always smiling, never minding sorrowful things. No matter what situation you’re in, you can always be happy.’

Years later, freshly brought back to life, Wei Wuxian would observe the summoning circle and binding scars on his arm with an expression that could be best described as playful.

‘He was summoning a heinous spirit? But it couldn’t have been me…. It must have been some lunatic!”

As if the great sects hadn’t done far worse than him with far less cause.

“Oh, well…. You know, back then, Wei Wuxian was one of the most promising cultivators. Coming from a highly distinguished clan and finding success at a young age. How on earth did he end up where he is now?”

While every watcher answered that question in their heads, not one said it outloud.

If Jin Guangshan were awake and not knocked unconscious by the resentment from earlier, he might have flinched at the gazes others sent him.

“This proves that one can only cultivate by following the righteous path. Using dishonest practices will only seem helpful at first glance. Look at what happened in the end! Not even a whole corpse was left of him.”

“Not everything was because of his cultivation path,” the elderly patron pointed out. “Wei Wuxian’s personality is quite immoral. One’s deeds will be paid one way or another; what goes around always comes around.”

‘And yet the majority of the gentry walked away from this matter unscathed,’ Lan Wangji thought, his hands clenched into fists. ‘Including myself. I did nothing to help him, and yet get spoken of with reverence thirteen years later.’

Why hadn’t he helped?

The world darkened, then lit again. It was a bit misleading to say it had ‘lit up,’ however. A cloudy night sky hung over the quiet peaks of Gusu — instantly recognizable due to the foliage and architecture. The surroundings were lit by only a single lantern held in Lan Xichen’s hand. He walked nearly-silently, his face grave.

Cicadas hummed in the distance.

The real Lan Xichen frowned deeply. Far from looking forward to their appearances — as they had at the beginning of the segments — the watchers now seemed to dread making an appearance.

Stopping in front of the door to an isolated building, Lan Xichen tapped lightly.

“Wangji?”

No sound was heard from within.

If Lan Qiren had been ashamed before, it was nothing compared to the sickening feeling that filled him now.

‘Is he going to-’

Despite not having received an answer, Lan Xichen opened the door and entered. It was dark inside, no candle light to be found. Lan Xichen’s lamp continued to glow, casting a soft light on the large mass in the center of the room.

Lan Wangji narrowed his eyes and approached, desperate for a clearer view. However, as soon as the figure looked back, he froze.

(The Lans had not been the only ones wondered where Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen had been during the attack. Last they had seen the younger jade, he had been trying to stop Wei Wuxian from attacking the clans in the Nightless City. And yet somehow, in this short span of time…)

Lan Xichen stepped closer, allowing his brother to become visible to the watchers. The light, white underrobe he wore did nothing to hide the bandages covering his chest and arms.

Nor the still-bleeding wounds below.

Jiang Yanli gasped, pale. Nie Huaisang looked nauseous and even Nie Mingjue seemed taken aback. That was nothing compared to the reactions of the three Lans, however. While their reactions were muted compared to the rest of the watchers, the sheer horror in their gazes was unquestionable.

“Wangji,” Lan Xichen said again.

The second jade looked over, his eyes blinking tiredly with a vulnerability he had never allowed himself to show before. Barely able to stay conscious, he forced himself into a sitting position.

“No, Wangji, you don’t have to-”

“What is it?” Lan Wangji asked, interrupting Lan Xichen and pushing away the hands trying to set him back down. “Xiongzhang, what happened?”

The sheer desperation in Lan Wangji’s voice made it impossible for Lan Qiren to critisize his manners.

And yet, for several long, agonizing seconds, Lan Xichen remained quiet.

“Xiongzhang?” Lan Wangji asked again.

“...”

Lan Xichen pursed his lips together and then, at last, opened his mouth to speak:

“I’m sorry.”

The phrase said nothing and everything all at once. It only took a moment for it to be understood. In an instant, Hanguang-jun’s face became consumed by grief.

Lan Xichen looked away.

Someone seemed to be shouting the word 'no' in the distance, though Lan Wangji wasn’t sure who. For all he knew, it was his other-self. He couldn’t tell; he had never raised his voice quite like that before. It was impossible to confirm visually. At the moment, Lan Wangji couldn’t tear his eyes away from Lan Xichen's future-self.

‘What do you mean by that? Is... is 'I'm sorry' all you can say? How could we let this happen?’ he thought, unwilling to ask aloud. ‘How could you? How could I?’

His gaze fell on the injuries lining his other-self’s back.

‘What happened?’

The two jades of Lan were still speaking to each other, but the words were getting harder and harder to parse. They faded into the distance. At first, many watchers thought they were simply struggling to process the sound. However, it gradually became clear that this was also the doing of the simulation itself.

The sounds attached to this memory faded into the distance.

In that space, a few notes began to play.

Pale and shaking, Jin Zixuan found himself focusing on the music being played. It was a far more appealing option than continuing to watch the indomitable Hanguang-jun re-opening the wounds on his back as he screamed in grief.

(Even the Wen had never managed to bring him to his knees like this. At this moment, there was no trace of the prideful jade of Lan.)

Even without the musical talent of the Twin Jades or Wei Wuxian, the song slowly picking up in volume gradually became clear to Jin Zixuan. It was a soft melody played on a guqin — one of longing and hope.

(The one Lan Wangji sang for Wei Wuxian in the Xuanwu of Slaughter’s cave.)

(The music could no longer be a comforting distraction now that Jin Zixuan had realized that.)

The music grew louder and louder, drowning out the words being said. It was a small mercy of privacy in a world that had completely destroyed all semblance of secrets among them.

More than one watcher was looking away.

(Even Wen Ruohan had closed his eyes.)

Somehow, watching this was harder than watching the violence that had been inflicted upon Wei Wuxian. Or perhaps it was that violence — that context — that made what they were seeing now so hard.

♪🎵♪♪

Red soaked the bandages along Lan Wangji’s back as the song kept playing. It was only now, with the countless wounds torn open from Lan Wangji’s shaking, that the watchers could clearly see just how extensive the damage was.

Lan Qiren couldn’t breathe.

He remembered, now, that they had seen the scars of a discipline whip on Wangji’s future-self’s back. He remembered, now, being angered by the sight and wondering what his nephew could have done to warrant such a thing. They still didn’t have a specific answer to that.

They didn’t need one.

Regardless of what Lan Wangji had done, Wei Wuxian and the Wens had still died in the end.

(And to think that Hanguang-jun’s forwardness with Wei Wuxian had once seemed like the biggest problem the simulation had to offer.)

Lan Qiren closed his eyes.

Lan Wangji tried to stand, but Lan Xichen pushed him down. Neither of them could be heard by the watchers now. However, as the music continued to play, Lan Wangji could be seen shaking his head once more.

If Nie Huaisang had to take a guess, he would bet the words ‘Don’t lie to me’ were what Lan Wangji was saying right now.

A resolution was never shown. Instead, as tears began to fall from Lan Wangji’s eyes, the simulation drew to a close.

♪

With one final note, the song came to an end.

The world darkened shortly after.

Jiang Yanli blinked.

Light had returned. The in-between zone was the same boring white as always.

The watchers had not spoken much during this segment. They wanted to speak even less now.

For a brief moment, Nie Huaisang wondered if he should say something to prompt conversation. It didn’t take long for him to decide against that, however. While they had all known this was coming, the actual moment of Wei Wuxian’s death would be difficult to accept at the current point in time.

As such, Nie Huaisang simply scooted himself closer to her brother, internally lamenting his poor, destroyed chair.

Nie Mingjue had been part of the attack. He had led a large portion of the warriors who came to exterminate the Wen. While the number of Jiang and Jin was higher, his contribution could not be ignored.

‘Maybe painting fans instead training the ‘righteous, warrior way’ doesn’t seem so bad now, huh?’ Nie Huaisang thought.

Wei Wuxiang’s body being torn apart flashed in Nie Huaisang’s mind every time he closed his eyes.

Well, no point in dwelling on that. Nie Huaisang hated gore and violence on principle. Knowing the people involved in that sight did not help matters. Instead, he attempted to focus on the storytelling the spirits had arranged.

The melody of the song Lan Wangji had sung was the most direct interference the spirits had conducted so far. While they had jumped around in the order of events shown previously, this was the first combination of scenes they had enacted. The exact sound was not something they had heard before either. Neither Lan Wangji’s singing nor Wei Wuxian’s flute could be heard there; there was only a guqin.

Something Lan Wangji played after Wei Wuxian’s death? But even then, why insert it here? Had the spirits really grown a conscience and decided to care about their privacy now of all times? Or was it done at the suggestion of one of the juniors, lacking any manipulations at all?

Sizhui might have suggested it for privacy’s sake. Did the spirits go along with it just for that? To emphasize how personally one of them would be affected? To tell the watchers that, if they learned from this, things would work out better? Was it blaming them? Or was it a sign that, for all the love that had been there for Wei Wuxian, none of their actions had been enough?

(Lan Wangji certainly seemed to be interpreting it that way.)

(How funny, that he had once seemed to carry all the emotions of a jade statue. After the final scene of this segment, no one would be able to accuse him of that. The real version of the Second Jade had not lost composure to the same extent his future self had, but a faint tremble could be seen in his shoulders nonetheless.)

(Jiang Yanli’s open sobs seemed to cut deeper and deeper into him with every breath.)

Although Jin Zixuan sat near Jiang Yanli, he made no effort to speak. Both he and Jiang Cheng were sitting slouched over, lacking all the poise their mothers had raised them to present.

(Unbeknownst to Nie Huaisang, both were recalling the same scene right now.)

A group of civilian children were playing in the streets. Based on the items they held and the words being said, it quickly became clear that they were re-enacting the sunshot campaign.

The child playing Jin Guangyao volunteered himself as leader.

‘But I’m Nie Mingjue! I won the most battles and captured the most people. I should be the leader!’

And-

‘You short-lived idiot.’

‘Jin Zixuan, you died even before I did! You’re even more short-lived!’

And then-

‘Okay, okay. Let’s stop fighting. I’m the Yiling Patriarch, so I’m the strongest. If you guys insist so much, I can be the leader.’

‘No, no. I’m Sandu Shengshou. I’m the most powerful.’

‘Jiang Cheng, how is it possible for you to be better than me? Is there even one time you didn’t lose to me? How dare you say you’re more powerful? Aren’t you embarrassed?’

It had been embarrassing to watch at the time. However, embarrassing was not all it had been.

‘Hmph. Why can’t I be better than you? Don’t you remember how you died?’

They certainly did, now. None of them would ever be able to forget. Even if Jiang Cheng’s involvement was exaggerated somewhat, he had still-

The boy playing Wei Wuxian was shoved to the ground, his ‘Stygian Tiger Seal’ shattering on impact.

‘Hey, why did you guys push me?’ he asked. ‘It was all of you against just me! That’s not fair!’

A shudder went through Jiang Cheng’s spiritual form.

In the segment they had just watched, a bleeding, exhausted Wei Wuxian had looked out over a seemingly endless battlefield with a pained expression. All around, the corpses of those he had lost everything to protect rose up again to fight.

Jiang Cheng’s whip shot purple lightning into the air, decimating a corpse.

The decapetated head of Granny Wen was held into the air. A-Yuan was nowhere to be found.

‘It was all of you against just me! That’s not fair!’

(It was a war; this was battle. It was not meant to be fair.)

They had invited Wei Wuxian to Jin Ling’s 100-day ceremony and ambushed him on the way.

(Not all of them were involved in that.)

They had all promised peace if Wen Qing and Wen Ning surrendered themselves. They all knew the two had. Even if there had been lies mixed in, no one would believe the two had surrendered themselves for no reason. They had to have known of the promise that was made.

They had shown up to the Nightless City regardless.

(Liars and crooks. But they were the gentry, so no one bat an eye.)

‘It was all of you against just me! That’s not fair!’

In this moment, Jiang Cheng curled in on himself. He sat with his knees up and buried his head in them, wrapping his arms around his body to block out any additional light that might enter.

Once, he had found Wei Wuxian’s relationship with Lan Wangji disgusting. Beyond his own relationship with Wei Wuxian and Hanguang-jun’s initially forceful methods, everything about their interactions had felt off in a way Jiang Cheng couldn’t describe. Jin Ling had felt the same way at first, though changed his mind as the simulation went on.

It was just strange seeing two men behave the way they had.

(Wei Wuxian being literally dragged to the Cloud Recesses hadn’t helped matters.)

And yet-

When Zewu-jun shook his head, they had seen the last bit of hope Lan Wangji had crumble before their eyes. The prideful Jade of Lan shook his head in denial, trying to stand and leave as though the wounds on his back couldn’t even be felt. The sheer devastation in his screams had been haunting.

And, in contrast, Jiang Cheng had-

The little boy playing Sandu Shengshou raised a brow, firing back, ‘Why can’t I be better than you? Don’t you remember how you died?’

Corpses tore Wei Wuxian’s flesh from his bones. As they continued to eat, purple lightning continued flashing to the side.

“Disgusting.”

In a voice too quiet to be heard, Jiang Cheng whispered a single word to himself.

“Disgusting. Disgusting. Disgusting.”

With his body curled up as it was, even those who could hear him could never hope to identify the word. Nonetheless, Jiang Cheng continued.

“Disgusting. Disgusting. Disgusting. Disgusting. Disgusting-”

This time, he saw neither the Yiling Patriarch nor Hanguang-jun in his mind’s eye.

The only person he could picture at his point in time was his future-self, leading the Jiang Sect against Wei Wuxian.

(Powerful. Dangerous. Respected. Everything he had longed to be.)

“Disgusting.”

He was nearly choking the words out now, feeling bile rise in his throat.

It was-

*Click*

“A-Cheng, A-Li. Everyone. How have you… all been doing?” Jiang Fengmian’s voice asked.

Jiang Cheng couldn’t look.

He couldn’t breathe.

“Hi, everyone!” Wei Wuxian called out cheerfully. “Anything interesting happen since we last spoke?”

Not a single person present seemed to have any blood left in their face at all. Unable to stop himself, Jiang Cheng ended up dropping his gaze to see Lan Wangji.

The look of sheer devastation the Lan now showed said far more than any words could ever hope to.

‘Oh, boy,’ Wei Wuxian thought, giving a mental sigh as the silence stretched on. ‘What’s got them stunned silent this time?’

Really, the main clans could be so difficult to deal with sometimes. It was like they were hearing a ghost!