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Chapter Text

A-Hao is plagued with nightmares from the very start of his life. He dreams of fire and loss, faces of people he doesn’t recognize. Sometimes they’re smiling even as the flames come for them, sometimes he’s staring down at their dull eyed corpses. The dreams start early enough that he doesn’t even realize they’re dead at first, but he’s still unnerved enough to cry himself sick in his mother or big brother’s arms, when Yu-gege is actually home. Bedtime is a battle as he tries to run from the inevitable. By the time he’s five and still having the terrible dreams, his mother starts to think he might have a curse.

“Just you wait,” Yu-gege says, drying A-Hao’s tears with the edge of his sleeve after another terrible night. “I’ll definitely find a way to soothe your nightmares. Count on me.”

Since Yu-gege is, in fact, the best, A-Hao trusts his word. It’s not like Yu-gege has ever lied to him about anything important before, not the way A-Niang keeps lying about the medicines she gives A-Hao when he least expects them. She’s a crafty one! Yu-gege always tells him when something’s medicine before making him drink or eat it anyway. Who knows when one might actually help with the nightmares?

The problem is that Yu-gege spends most of his time with his sect, only staying a scant few weeks here and there at home.

“It’s important that A-Yu concentrates on his cultivation,” A-Niang says when A-Hao whines about missing him. “He has a big legacy to live up to.”

Their father is an important person, apparently. Even if, despite having never met him, A-Hao keeps dreaming of a tall man with a slimy face that just gets slimier when he smiles. There’s something about the Jin sect that A-Hao just knows is rotten to the core, but he can’t find the words to explain it and Yu-gege is determined that this is the only way forward to reach his goals.

“If I do well enough, he might even legitimize me,” Yu-gege whispers to him as A-Hao curls up with him on their shared futon. Somehow, A-Hao is sure it won’t turn out the way Yu-gege hopes.

He keeps that to himself to keep from upsetting A-Niang and Yu-gege. Besides, he has enough to deal with as he gets older and A-Niang lets him wander further from their tiny courtyard. It’s very nice of the first lady of Mo to let them stay, according to A-Niang, but his cousin is a real jerk. There’s no one A-Hao dislikes more than Mo Ziyuan, not even Madam Mo, who makes A-Niang cry at every opportunity. Mo Ziyuan is just mean! So mean! And says such terrible things about Yu-gege!

“I won’t!” A-Hao declares when A-Niang implores him to be more respectful to his cousin, even when Mo Ziyuan trips him on walks or throws things and laughs at him. “I won’t, I won’t, I won’t!”

Mo Ziyuan can’t even get creative about the bullying, either. He keeps calling A-Hao a bastard and a cast off and a servant’s son on repeat, like his tiny brain is too filled up with remembering to breathe to think up anything more interesting to say. A-Hao can’t be blamed for how often beetles end up in his bed, that’s just karma.

Same for the snakes in his boots. Like seeks like.

As he gets older, A-Niang has A-Hao help more and more with her duties. He is the son of a servant, so he might as well learn the ropes under her skilled tutelage. That’s fine, gives him something to do in between visits from Yu-gege, but A-Hao maybe kind of hopes he can follow in his brother’s footsteps some day. Cultivators are just so awesome! Even the terrifying people who kill him in his dreams are awesome!

Something has changed the next time Yu-gege comes home. In all his seven years, A-Hao has never seen Yu-gege smile like he does when he talks about Jin Guangyao. Jin Guangyao is apparently also their brother, not quite a decade older than Yu-gege, which makes him old, but Yu-gege adores him.

“Just wait,” Yu-gege says, his eyes glistening. “When you meet him, you’ll see what I mean. He’s amazing.”

“Nobody’s more amazing than Yu-gege.” He pouts as Yu-gege waves him off, then insists, “Nobody!”

“Ah, you just don’t know anything yet. You’ll see.”

That gets A-Hao pouting harder. But then Yu-gege teaches him how to gather spiritual energy in his cupped hands to warm them, which is awesome and weirdly nostalgic all at the same time. It leaves his fingers tingling for several minutes after and Jin Guangyao is completely forgotten. According to Yu-gege, A-Hao might be able to go to the Jin sect too when he’s older, but only if he practices really hard to impress them. Well, that just makes his forward course of action clear, now doesn’t it? Anything A-Hao can do to be with his brother, he will! If for no other reason than just to make sure nobody’s taking advantage of Yu-gege’s heart.

A-Hao spends most of his time, between chores and running away from Mo Ziyuan, practicing what Yu-gege teaches him on his visits. The techniques come easier to him than he expects, easier than Yu-gege expects too, but A-Niang just lights up every time he makes progress.

“I have such talented sons,” she beams when A-Hao shows her his newest accomplishment, a little ball of visible qi to illuminate the space around him that he can make zoom around the room. The attention just makes A-Hao want to do more, and why not? Figuring out new ways to manipulate his growing qi just means he has something to show off when his brother visits.

“Don’t worry, I’ve told them about you,” Yu-gege says when A-Hao is eight and has already made substantial progress preparing his cultivation foundation using the manual Yu-gege left with him. Which he reads with only minimal assistance needed for some of the less common characters!! “As soon as you’re big enough, we’ll bring you to the sect.”

A-Hao is elated at the idea of being where his cherished brother is, but the lingering unease about the Jins in general never leaves him. Those thoughts stay within his deepest heart. A-Niang would be mad if she knew he had such uncharitable feelings to people who’d done him no wrong, and Yu-gege might be sad, too. More than anything, A-Hao doesn’t want to cause any trouble for his most precious people. Sometimes he dreams about people he doesn’t recognize but knows he loved that were lost to him and he’s determined never to have that happen for real.

He’s nine when he notices something change in the way Yu-gege looks anytime Jin Guangyao comes up in conversation. There’s a slight flush to the apples of his cheeks, a far away quality to his eyes, and he’s often lost in thought for several minutes at the mention. It’s weird, making something in the pit of A-Hao’s stomach clench up as his instincts scream wrong, wrong, wrong, but he doesn’t have any idea why. He still hasn’t met Jin Guangyao, or any of the Jin for that matter. He’s never even left the Mo estate except to accompany A-Niang to the market.

“You’ll understand when you’re older,” Yu-gege says with a bashful smile as he ruffles A-Hao’s hair.

“Maybe I don’t want to get older,” A-Hao grumbles, mostly to make Yu-gege laugh. “A-Hao can stay three.”

That earns him another hair ruffle that he submits to magnanimously.

The dreaminess in Yu-gege’s eyes is worse the next time he visits, almost obsessive the time after that. All he talks about, even during his cultivation lessons to A-Hao, is Jin Guangyao. About how kind he is, how wonderful, how handsome. It’s like everything in Yu-gege has dedicated itself to that man, leaving only a pittance left for Mo Hao.

“He even showed me his secret treasure room,” Yu-gege gushes before sighing like a maiden in a play, fingers brushing his lips. “And the way he-”

He pauses, flushing brightly and looking away.

“Maybe he’ll come visit to meet A-Niang and you soon,” he says, that same faraway quality to his voice. “I just know you’d both love him, too.”

A-Hao isn’t so sure of that. He has the most terrible feeling about all of this and even A-Niang seems a little concerned.

It all comes to a head just after Mo Hao’s tenth birthday. He’s man enough by then that Mo Ziyuan finds it funny to beat him in the stables one day after accusing him of stealing something Mo Hao didn’t even know existed, much less would want. The bruises are dark when he finds A-Niang crying over a letter from the Jin sect and still visible when Yu-gege arrives on horseback.

“Ge-” But Yu-gege just walks right past Mo Hao to their room to lay on his futon facing the wall. It takes most of the day before Mo Hao gives up trying to rouse him and finds A-Niang to pester.

“He’s been rejected by the sect,” A-Niang explains, her voice tight and bitter with the color of shame. But she won’t explain what happened and Yu-gege doesn’t talk to him either. In the end, Mo Hao has to learn from his terrible cousin.

“That disgusting waste,” Mo Ziyuan sneers out, stomping Mo Hao into the mud again just because he’s a stupid bully with nothing better to do with his time, “threw everything away for unnatural perversions towards his own brother!”

Mo Hao is a smart boy and perfectly worldly enough to understand what that means, on its own, but that doesn’t prepare him for what follows. It takes nearly a month before Yu-gege speaks, and it’s only to grumble to himself so low that Mo Hao can’t understand him. He doesn’t answer Mo Hao, doesn’t answer A-Niang, who barely looks at him anyway and seems like the flicker of life in her has been blown out. Somehow, he thinks he shouldn’t be surprised when he wakes up one morning to find her dead, but he still cries all the water out of him as his brother sits stone-faced beside him.

Nothing is the same after that. Mo Hao busies himself with all the duties A-Niang had taught him and the care of his older brother, who probably wouldn’t even eat if not for Mo Hao bringing him meals personally. It’s a chore getting food into him, but Mo Hao is a filial son and dedicated brother. He’ll make sure his cherished brother survives the shocks of his losses.

The Mo family certainly wants nothing to do with either of them, but there’s more shame to be had in running them off than letting them stay. Mo Hao contents himself in leaving bugs and lizards for Madam Mo to find in her room for every unkind word she says about his brother. Yu-gege mutters about fairness and betrayal, only seeming to notice anything around them when Mo Ziyuan comes by to bother him, and that’s mostly to say nonsensical things to make Mo Ziyuan even more mad as his things disappear into the idiot’s grubby hands.

As time passes, Yu-gege just gets more withdrawn until one day, they’re visited by a man named Nie Huaisang. Mo Hao finds them talking in low voices out by the horse stable, their conversation ending the moment Nie Huaisang notices him approaching. There’s an odd look on his face as his eyes flicker over Mo Hao’s face, but he just smiles in a friendly manner after.

“This must be the much praised baby brother!” Nie Huaisang says cheerfully as Yu-gege gives Mo Hao a glance.

“Not a baby,” Mo Hao says after bowing with the barest amount of politeness in honor of his departed mother. “I’m Mo Hao.”

“We’ve heard loads about you. Mo-gongzi wouldn’t shut up about you.”

Mo Hao glances at Yu-gege, who’s distracted again with whatever’s on his mind. His eyes flicker from side to side like he’s reading something no one else can see. Just what had he and Nie Huaisang been talking about?

The visit doesn’t last long, but the effects are immediate. A new life ignites within Yu-gege, something that seems like it should scare Mo Hao with its intensity but somehow doesn’t. Instead, he’s just drawn more as his brother’s mutterings grow more pointed, more centered. Until Mo Hao starts to understand the theories of what Yu-gege has decided to dedicate himself to. Mo Hao is vaguely aware of the events that went on in the world from around when he’d been born. A huge battle against the evil Wen army and their leader, the Yiling Patriarch, that resulted in all their deaths. It’s a bit of history he doesn’t like remembering, that makes his belly twist, but he’d dutifully learned because A-Niang wanted him to be an educated man in preparation for joining his father’s sect. But remembering it means he remembers what the Yiling Patriarch had been up to and he’s pretty sure…

“Is this demonic cultivation?” he asks when he’s absolutely sure there is nothing around them with ears or a brain.

Yu-gege stiffens, staring at Mo Hao over the obviously heretical array he’d been sketching out in pieces. Mo Hao just stares right back at him.

“Can you tell me how it works?”

With a blink, Yu-gege glances at the sketches and then back to his brother. “You… You want to learn this?”

“Why not?” According to A-Niang, education is the only thing no one can take from you. And for some reason, looking at the symbols Yu-gege is placing down feels weirdly familiar. Like something he saw in the dreams. “It’s important enough for Yu-gege to work on. This didi will help him.”

Yu-gege blinks several more times quickly, his eyes weirdly bright. “A-Hao, you don’t know what you’re asking for.”

“It can’t be bad if Yu-gege is doing it.” Which is probably not the best reason to do anything but Mo Hao has done worse for less. Still, something almost guilty flashes over Yu-gege’s face, so he adds, “Will this help make things better for Yu-gege?”

Swallowing, Yu-gege nods. “It has to.”

That’s not a definite yes, but it’s enough for Mo Hao to pledge himself wholeheartedly into the endeavor.

“Teach me,” he demands.

And Yu-gege does.

Chapter Text

There are a lot of things Mo Xuanyu regrets. Somehow, dragging his little brother into the heretical practice of demonic cultivation is one of the less pressing ones, considering how Mo Hao takes to it like a duck to water. Anyone else, Mo Xuanyu would be jealous of. He has nothing but pride for his talented baby brother. For the last ten years, he’s watched Mo Hao blow through every milestone faster than the last whether it’s reading or cultivating, recognizing the genius behind his bright eyes. Had he been born first, he would have definitely been taken in by the Jin-

Mo Xuanyu winces away from that thought because thinking about his little brother in that nest of conspiracy and betrayal makes him ache. No, better that it was Mo Xuanyu to get caught in Jin Guangyao’s spidery plots. His teeth hurt with how hard he clenches them at the very idea of every silky word, every beguiling look that guided Mo Xuanyu into the trap might have instead ensnared Mo Hao.

No. Better that it was him. And as soon as they manage to summon Wei Wuxian from his slumber, it’ll be no one else after.

There aren’t strict teachings for the study of demonic cultivation and even the things in Jin Guangyao’s secret treasure room weren’t really instructive, so Mo Xuanyu and Mo Hao are on their own. They figure things out on the fly, first how to gather the resentful energies into something usable and then how to store it within their own bodies. How to hide the results from prying eyes, how to keep their spiritual energies clean and separate.

“Like two parallel roads,” Mo Hao mumbles to himself when something clicks for him before it does for Mo Xuanyu, which has become usual. Sometimes, it’s almost like Mo Hao has done this before with the quickness of his uptake. Mo Xuanyu is so proud of him he could just burst. It’s the only light in his life, watching Mo Hao mold this new energy within himself and debating new ways they can use it.

Under the cover of darkness, they travel to nearby graveyards and old battle sites, anything close enough that they can return before dawn. Dodging dangerous creatures is easier as they get more familiar and can sense the changes in the energy undercurrents. Managing wayward spirits is child’s play, literally in Mo Hao’s case. The affinity he has for resentful energy and the skill with which he can manipulate it is breathtaking. Any regret Mo Xuanyu might feel in teaching him has faded by the time he’s eleven.

Learning demonic cultivation is honestly easier than dealing with the rest of the Mo family back at the manor. Madam Mo never hesitates to give a disparaging word or a strike, Lord Mo pretends they don’t exist unless he’s punishing them at his wife’s demand. The more bored Mo Ziyuan gets, the more he pokes his nose into their business. He won’t leave Mo Hao alone during his normal duties, won’t stop invading Mo Xuanyu’s room to pilfer his things, and just in general is a complete nightmare to endure. If only Mo Xuanyu were a larger, stronger man, with the same ingrained talent as his brother was blessed with…

But no. Mo Hao isn’t ready to strike out on his own yet, so Mo Xuanyu just has to grit his teeth and bear with the beatings and theft and insults. When Mo Hao is fifteen, Mo Xuanyu will enact his plan to take care of all their problems in one fail swoop. Mo Ziyuan, Madam Mo, Lord Mo, and that fucking trashpile Jin Guangyao, he’ll destroy all four of them with the most powerful force to have ever lived. But Mo Hao needs to be ready before Mo Xuanyu can use the summoning array he’d glimpsed in Jin Guangyao’s treasure room. Oh, how poetic that Jin Guangyao be the agent of his own destruction…

He wishes he could cast it now, but he’d never forgive himself for leaving his brother alone now. Without a sword to protect him and with no means to acquire one, Mo Xuanyu needs to make sure Mo Hao is too skilled in other ways to be threatened. He loves his brother, but Mo Hao can be such a little shit sometimes. Case in point:

“And then what did you say to her?” Mo Xuanyu asks as he carefully feeds qi into Mo Hao’s cheek to heal a cleaned and sluggishly bleeding cut, gifted to him by the sharp edge of one of Madam Mo’s rings.

“The truth,” Mo Hao huffs. “His face is uglier than the new donkey’s.”

Mo Xuanyu can’t stop his lips from quirking into a smile. Sure, as the older brother, he really should be curbing Mo Hao’s tendency to say what’s on his mind, but it’s just too funny to miss out. There’s already enough Mo Hao keeps locked up inside him, no way is Mo Xuanyu encouraging him to hide more. Sometimes, it’s like there are books worth of things behind his brother’s eyes. He’s more aware of things than Mo Xuanyu wishes.

Despite being newly twelve, Mo Hao still curls up against Mo Xuanyu’s side at night. The nightmares never stop, not even after years of trying every tincture and spell Mo Xuanyu or their mother were able to track down for him. Before being ejected from the Jin sect, Mo Xuanyu had been talking over Gusu Lan musical cultivation techniques that might help with Jin Guangyao, but then… Well. Then a lot of things happened. The information never materialized and Mo Xuanyu kept getting distracted from insisting on it.

Stupid. He’d been so incredibly stupid. Almost two years after the fact, Mo Xuanyu can see clearly how easily he’d been led to his own doom by that conniving slimeball who turned out to be so very much like their father. His skin crawls as he remembers soft touches, gentle words spoken low against his ear. The way warmth bloomed inside him at secret smiles and heated glances. So stupid, thinking someone like that actually liked him.

Well, he isn’t stupid about it anymore. The only things Mo Xuanyu cares about now are his revenge and making sure his brother is ready for life after it.

“Shoulders back,” Mo Xuanyu says as Mo Hao grips a sturdy stick they’d found and carved into the approximation of a sword. It’s not the same, the weight is all wrong, but Mo Xuanyu runs Mo Hao through all the Jin martial forms anyway to hone his body. Mo Hao is a little guy, not quite undersized but not much better than. He’s as strong as anyone can expect from his manual labor, but swordsmanship puts different stresses on a body. Just because they can’t afford a real sword for him right now doesn’t mean one won’t be available later, so Mo Xuanyu teaches his little brother everything he knows. Not that Mo Xuanyu is particularly noteworthy when it comes to swordsmanship, but it’s better than nothing. Maybe when Mo Hao is on his own, he’ll find a swordmaster to apprentice under. Anyone would be lucky to have him.

It doesn’t take long for Mo Hao to start fighting him to a tie in their practice spars. He’s got good instincts for combat, doesn’t make the kind of mistakes Mo Xuanyu had to be trained out of when he was younger. Figures Mo Hao would be as naturally gifted here as he’s been with everything else. He’s even enough of a genius to tweak the standard moves into something more fluid, something better suited to his smaller size. The style almost comes out like something more Jiang, which amuses Mo Xuanyu somewhat considering the strange relationship between the two sects.

“I just do what feels right,” Mo Hao says when Mo Xuanyu comments on it, turning his sword hand to examine the new calluses forming in his palm. “Besides, I don’t want to fight like them.”

Definitely a sentiment Mo Xuanyu can get behind.

Between the sword training and their experiments with demonic cultivation, the next year flies by. Rage has become a colder thing in Mo Xuanyu’s heart, still present but able to be ignored. His brother continues to flourish under his careful hand, much as Mo Ziyuan’s abuses continue without pause. Mo Xuanyu barely holds himself from taking a knife to him in the night, more than once, but it isn’t time yet.

At thirteen, Mo Hao hits a growth spurt and pops up nearly a foot in what feels like no time at all. His limbs are gangly with youth but strong, his control barely wavering through the changes and quickly accounted for. Almost overnight, he goes from being a boy to something closer to a man. What worries Mo Xuanyu is that Mo Hao’s growing to be beautiful. His silver eyes are wide and sparkling with life, his smiling lips full, and the silken strands of his hair frame his well formed face as if to purposely show him off. Like a prince pretending to be a pauper, a diamond among the weeds.

What happens if someone unseemly notices? The very idea makes Mo Xuanyu want to vomit. In so many ways, Mo Hao is still innocent to some of the most terrible things in their world. The hands that might reach for him, the bastards that might take from him- No. Mo Xuanyu shudders hard and insists on dressing Mo Hao himself in the mornings. He ties up Mo Hao’s hair in the most severe of top knots, selects only the most boring colors and cuts from his own wardrobe to dress Mo Hao in since they’re all badly sized for him, and even spreads unflattering makeup over Mo Hao’s skin. There’s only a token protest, more about Mo Xuanyu’s fussing rather than what’s actually being done to him. The trust Mo Hao has in him is unending.

Mo Xuanyu keeps a close eye on anyone coming and going from the manor. Every other servant, every delivery man, every guest is closely scrutinized, which serves the dual purpose of making everyone pay attention to Mo Xuanyu instead. They whisper that he’s lost his mind even worse than before to be held by such paranoia. It works just fine for his purposes and he only has to keep all of this up for another two years. Then Mo Hao will be fifteen and ready for life without him. Already, his grace with resentful and spiritual energies have far surpassed Mo Xuanyu’s own. If only they could get him a sword. Maybe Mo Xuanyu will steal one for Mo Hao to take with him once the revenge is complete. Can he make that a condition for the summoning along with the lives that must desperately be taken? Surely, there’s a way. Surely, if anyone can keep Mo Hao safe, it will be the Yiling Patriarch.

Something itches in the air, some sense of things to come, but Mo Xuanyu isn’t sure if it’s good or bad. He keeps his head up, keeps drawing the Mo family’s attention as well as he can through sharp words and unhinged actions to further the belief in his insanity, but his nerves spin tighter and tighter by the day. Giving into the paranoia, Mo Xuanyu starts pilfering little things away in a tiny cache hidden in the stables. A knife, a comb, usable clothing about to be thrown out. He’s just added a good piece of flint when he overhears something that stops him cold.

“-be here within the day,” Madam Mo is saying, her voice low but not hushed. “And then we’ll be rid of both of them.”

Mo Xuanyu presses himself to the wall, inching closer to the doorway to hear better. Rid of who isn’t the question, considering who it is she hates the most.

“There will be questions,” Lord Mo says with misgivings.

“We’ll just say they died. Surely, it’s believable enough that lunatic lost all his senses and murdered them both. Or we blame it on the fierce corpses. Either way, we just have to lower our heads and speak soft words over empty burial plots. No one will care and we’ll still get paid.”

What-

“And if anyone sees them being taken away?”

“This wife knows a thing or two about discretion. How easily did she handle that useless sister of hers?”

In his chest, Mo Xuanyu’s heart stutters over its next beat as he remembers walking into his mother’s room to see her still body on the bed, a half empty cup of poisoned tea at her bedside and his brother sobbing with her hand in his. He’d accepted that the shame of his own stupidly had been enough for his mother to take her life, but what Madam Mo was now saying…

The rage burns so much brighter in him than it has since he first decided on his path. How dare this woman still breathe when A-Niang didn’t. How dare she conspire to- to, what. Sell them as slaves? Is that what she’s planning now?! Mo Xuanyu’s entire body is so tightly wound he’s surprised he hasn’t torn to pieces, but no more waiting. No more of this, he won’t allow that woman to ruin Mo Hao’s life!

The walk to the stable is a blur. Mo Xuanyu sees nothing around him except the ground under his feet, hears nothing but his own footsteps. This world doesn’t matter anymore. A cruel thing meant only to take and take and take, but he’ll take from it first.

That bastard Mo Ziyuan had stolen the ink Mo Xuanyu squirreled away last week and he hasn’t had a chance to replace it yet, but no matter. The stolen knife cuts easily through Mo Xuanyu’s palm before he starts writing out the symbols in his own blood. Stronger this way anyway. A better way to anchor himself as the sacrifice.

Mo Hao will forgive him someday. This is the only way Mo Xuanyu knows how to save him.

Every swipe of his finger on the ground gets him that much closer to bringing about the end of them, the stench of blood filling his nose and blotting out everything else around him. His hair flies back from his face as the energies gather and condense into the array, urged on by his voice as he settles each component little by little. His body is ready, it’s almost over-

“Gege?!”

Mo Xuanyu jerks his head up and meets his brother’s terrified gaze, but it’s too late. The array activates with a burst of energy that knocks into him all the way to bone. He hears his brother call again, and then there’s nothing.

Chapter Text

Mo Hao wakes up feeling… displaced. He blinks dumbly up at the stable ceiling, his chest seized like he’d taken a heavy blow that knocked the air out of him. It takes a few minutes before he can draw in a full breath that doesn’t wheeze, and then he remembers-

“Gege!”

Rolling onto his hands and knees, Mo Hao bullies his body up enough to crawl over to where his stupid, stupid, stupid brother is sprawled out on the dirty floor. His entire body aches, battered by whatever it is Mo Xuanyu just did, but Mo Hao powers through it to roll Mo Xuanyu onto his back and make sure he’s still alive. Relief floods over him when he feels Mo Xuanyu’s breath, but he doesn’t let himself get complacent. He sits up and checks his dumbass of a brother’s pulse, his temperature, his qi, his resentful energy. None of it is exactly normal, but nor does Mo Xuanyu seem to be in any kind of dangerous freefall. Mo Hao’s gaze flickers to the half burned up array to make sense of it. Summoning, sacrificing- Ooooohhh, Mo Hao is going to really let him have it for doing something so stupid!

With the immediate danger faced, Mo Hao sits back on his heels and gives the array a closer look. Just what was Mo Xuanyu trying to summon? He doesn’t have long to wonder before there’s a groan and Mo Xuanyu’s eyes roll open.

“Stupid!” Mo Hao yells at him immediately. “If you’re not my brother, I’m gonna drag him back by his toes!”

That earns him a few blinks. Mo Xuanyu stares in silence, pale faced and tired looking.

“...You are Yu-gege, right?” Mo Hao asks, something cold forming in his belly

Lifting a hand, Mo Xuanyu stares at his fingers for a few moments before slumping back down against the ground. “It didn’t work.”

The relief only makes Mo Hao feel a tiny bit better within the sea of anger. “Good thing it didn’t! I’m so mad at you!”

Mo Xuanyu has the audacity to not even look like he minds that. He pushes himself up to sit, absently knocking some straw out of his hair.

“New plan,” he says resolutely.

“I’m going to put so many frogs in your clothes.”

Mo Xuanyu’s mouth opens, but before he can decide to do something as stupid as sacrificing himself to summon a demon, approaching footsteps catch their attention.

“What do you think you’re doing? Mo Ziyuan says with a sneer, his slimy little toady slinking up behind him. “You sleep in my house and eat my food, so what if I take your stuff?”

Before Mo Hao can decide to dodge, Mo Ziyuan grabs a handful of his hair and bodily drags him out from the stable to throw roughly along the path. The toady plants a boot against Mo Hao’s chest before leaning his full weight down to hold him to the dirt. The spiritual energy flowing strongly through Mo Hao’s body helps cushion the weight, but only just. That stupid lout of a toady is nearly twice his size. Oh, Mo Hao will put so many beetles in their things.

“And you snitched on me?” Mo Ziyuan continues as if he hadn’t interrupted himself, his entire attention on Mo Xuanyu. At this angle, Mo Hao can’t see what happens, but he hears the familiar sound of a boot hitting a body and grits his teeth. Who knows what Mo Xuanyu had already done to himself, and now he’s getting beaten on top of it?! He’s in no shape for this!

“You must be out of your mind,” the toady sneers over his shoulder. “How bold of you!”

Bold. As if not wanting to lose your things is such a crime. Mo Hao quickly revises his plans. It won’t just be bugs in Mo Ziyuan’s clothes, this time he’ll gather every spider within a hundred li to entirely fill Mo Ziyuan’s room.

“Don’t think you’re so great just because your father’s a sect leader.” No, spiders are too good for this piece of filth. He needs something worse. “You’re just an illegitimate son.”

There’s no verbal protest from Mo Xuanyu, but Mo Hao hears a muffled groan of pain, no doubt after another kick, and his vision goes red at the edges.

“A bastard that’s been kicked out like a dog-”

“At least he isn’t uglier than the donkey!” Mo Hao snaps without thinking too much about it, but also doesn’t regret it after the truth leaves his mouth. This is enough.

There’s a heavy pause after as he glares up at the stunned toady.

“A-Hao,” Mo Xuanyu wheezes. There might be some kind of recrimination in his tone, but Mo Hao is too mad to care about it.

“You-!” Heavy steps, then Mo Ziyuan’s stupid, fat head fills up most of Mo Hao’s vision as the toady steps off him to make room for his master’s bulk. “You dare!”

“You won’t even have bastard children, much less legitimate ones,” Mo Hao continues digging his own grave gleefully. There’s a certain freedom in finally just saying whatever he wants. “What woman would ever touch you?”

It’s a not so well guarded secret that Madam Mo has been searching for a good match for her son and an even more guarded one that her efforts have been less than fruitful even with the family money, which means of course everyone knows. With the way Mo Ziyuan’s face is starting to purple, he’s well aware of this.

The kick is expected. Mo Hao curves his body with it to soften the blow just a little, but it still knocks the wind out of him again.

“What does a low bred mutt like you know about anything?!” Mo Ziyuan sounds close to tears in his frustration. Good! Suffer. “You’ll be dead before you can ever even hope to marry, and no one would marry you anyway because- Because-!”

There’s something kind of fun about riling him for once instead of just rolling over and waiting for his anger to break. Mo Hao is kind of sad he’s never tried that before. It seems like that might have made the last thirteen years more bearable. If anything, it should keep Mo Ziyuan’s attention focused more on him rather than his brother.

“If that whore of a mother of yours had just kept her legs shut-”

Mo Hao feels it, the moment his temper snaps, but he’s too slow because a body slams into Mo Ziyuan and knocks him to the ground before Mo Hao can act. The toady starts yelling as the two of them roll around together, Mo Ziyuan shrieking like he’s being murdered. In Mo Hao’s opinion, it’s too bad he isn’t. His big brother obviously isn’t at his best after the ritual and the latest beating, but he still gets several good licks in before the yelling attracts more servants out to them.

The servants converge and drag Mo Xuanyu off Mo Ziyuan, separating the two while Mo Ziyuan yells about murder and punishment. It doesn’t matter to Mo Hao as much as it probably should, his eyes drawn instead to the blood leaking down Mo Xuanyu’s face from a cut at his hairline. The resigned expression twists Mo Hao’s heart to bits. Just how much longer can either of them survive here? And for what reason should they even try? This place, this family, is killing his precious brother just as surely as the ritual might have, had it not failed. What good is the forming golden core in Mo Hao’s body if all he does with it is watch his brother die piece by piece?

They need to leave. The life of a rogue cultivator isn’t glamorous or safe, but neither is the life of an unliked servant. He’d face any hardship to help his precious brother.

Mo Xuanyu gets dragged off for confinement as another servant comes to grab Mo Hao by the back of his collar. He chokes a bit before managing to get to his feet, then trails behind to leave Mo Ziyuan’s whining behind. What does his cousin matter when Mo Hao has a new life’s mission?

“How do you manage to have the absolute worst timing?” the servant leading him grumbles. “Acting up like this when we have guests.”

Oh, right. The reason Mo Hao had been looking for Mo Xuanyu in the first place was to let him know about the guest cultivators that had arrived. The Gusu Lan sect are supposed to be dutiful and trustworthy, if the rumors are to be believed. Righteous to a fault, even. Maybe they would understand the great injustice that had been done to Mo Xuanyu and help him. Surely, that would be the right thing to do!

But how is Mo Hao supposed to get them to take Mo Xuanyu in as a disciple if they’re confined? Mo Hao glances at his unimpaired hands, at the servant careless enough to turn his back on Mo Hao, and decides he doesn’t care about burning this particular bridge. It doesn’t even take another second before Mo Hao ducks into an adjoining hall and silently escapes.

The guest rooms are being cleaned out but haven’t been inhabited yet, so Mo Hao changes tracks towards the main receiving chambor. He’s in luck, the white uniforms are easily spotted through the doorway where Madam Mo is still getting through formal greetings and explaining the situation with the roaming zombies. All Mo Hao has to do-

At once, he sees a flash of a beautiful man in white with clouds decorating his forehead ribbon, words of condemnation falling from his lips.

He slows to a stop. Wait, what if the Lans find out about the demonic cultivation his brother has been performing? A sect so famously uptight and righteous, could they stand to let a demonic cultivator into their midsts? To let one live? Mo Hao’s chest tightens up painfully. No. No, they probably wouldn’t-

“A-Niang!”

Before Mo Hao can make a decision on what to do, Mo Ziyuan runs crying to his mother’s arms as he whines about getting bullied and attacked for no reason. Ugh, that piece of trash. Mo Hao wishes he could just hang him by his toes from the ceiling and drain him like a pig. The look on Madam Mo’s face promises painful retribution just as soon as she’s calmed her precious baby and handled the Lans.

Mo Hao revises his plan. Okay, no introducing Mo Xuanyu to the Lans, but maybe he can still use their presence to his advantage. With the Lans here, at least Madam and Lord Mo should stay distracted overseeing them. That’s two fewer problems for Mo Hao to account for. The Lans aren’t likely to insert themselves into the internal issues of a household when there are fierce corpses to deal with nearby, so they aren’t likely to get in Mo Hao’s way either. As for Mo Ziyuan, well. Now that Mo Hao has already decided to leave, he’s not much of a danger either. No, nothing’s holding him back now. He just has to convince Mo Xuanyu to leave with him.

Skirting around other servants, Mo Hao makes his way to where Mo Xuanyu has been locked away. There aren’t nearly enough servants in the manor for a guard to have been left, just a door that Mo Hao unlocks with some creative use of his spiritual energy. As the door clicks open, Mo Hao pokes his head inside.

“We’re leaving,” he says as Mo Xunayu blinks owlishly at him from the darkness of the windowless room. Not even a candle? Rude.

“What?”

“Get up, it’s time to run away.”

Mo Xuanyu stares at him for a beat before repeating, “What?”

Well, if he’s going to be this obtuse about it… Mo Hao marches in and jerks Mo Xuanyu onto his feet before dragging him out of the room. There’s no protest, even as they have to take the long way out of the main house to keep from getting spotted too soon. Mo Hao makes a pit stop at their room to grab his makeshift sword, a few lingering momentos from A-Niang, and his one change of clothes that didn’t come second hand from his brother that he stuffs into the bag he uses for market runs. He gathers random things of Mo Xuanyu’s as well, since his brother just stands at the door like a dummy the whole time.

“Do you have anything else you don’t want to leave?” Mo Hao asks after he finishes packing up their meager belongings from their room, at least the things that matter enough to make carrying their weight worth it.

“A-Hao, what are you talking about?”

Sighing, Mo Hao finally pins his brother with a direct look. “We can’t stay here. That idiot went to Madam Mo, she’s on the war path and now there’s Lan cultivators sniffing around-”

Mo Xuanyu rears back, looking out into the hall as if he thinks someone might be coming for them right now. He quickly ducks inside and shuts the door behind him, standing with his back to Mo Hao for a few moments after.

“What are they here for?” he mutters to himself. “They can’t have already reacted to the summoning-”

“Which I’m still mad at you about.”

“So, did they sense something else before?”

Any other time, it might be funny to let his brother stew. This time, Mo Hao gets up and goes to Mo Xuanyu’s side to look up at his disturbed, far away expression.

“It’s probably the fierce corpses nearby,” he says, waiting until Mo Xuanyu’s lips slow and stop to continue. “They’re not here for us, but I don’t think they’d like us either, if they knew. We should use the chaos and go.”

“I’m not ready yet, we don’t even have any money, and-”

“Details. Now, come on. We need to scram and quick.”

Mo Xuanyu glances at him, brows furrowed and eyes uneasy. It’s times like these when Mo Hao trusts his brother’s dedication to him most, so what can he do other than protect that soft heart of his?

Gently, Mo Hao bullies Mo Xuanyu through cleaning off his distinctive makeup, cleaning his own off too, and then getting themselves looking somewhat presentable for travel. It’s close to sundown, the night bugs starting to sing outside as the sky darkens, which is perfect. So much easier to sneak away during the night! Bag in hand, Mo Hao follows Mo Xuanyu out of their room and back out towards the stables, only to pause as he notices something strange. A flag, fluttering in the night winds like a lure, almost. He frowns. What a weird thought. Flags are usually warnings.

Mo Xuanyu tugs his hand and Mo Hao moves a step only to pause again. No, he’s sure the flag is a lure of some kind. A lure for what? He’s itching for a closer look but spots white clothed figures checking the area and finally lets Mo Xuanyu bully him into motion again. They get to the stables and Mo Xuanyu produces a bag of things he’d apparently been hiding nearby. If this had already been something his brother was planning for, Mo Hao doesn’t know why he seemed so surprised when Mo Hao came to the same conclusion.

Just as they’re about to go, Mo Xuanyu freezes, eyes locked on Mo Hao’s hand. Mo Hao glances down, ah, his sleeve got out of place- There is a gash on the back of his wrist. Mo Hao hadn’t noticed, hadn’t felt it until just now, but it’s only a little thing. Stings a bit, but…

The way Mo Xunayu’s hand shakes a little as he takes it up and pushes the sleeve back further, revealing three more bloodied gashes, is kind of dramatic! Like Mo Hao hasn’t been hurt worse.

“Yu-gege-”

“When did this happen?” Mo Xunayu demands. Mo Hao shrugs.

“I don’t know, probably when that idiot threw me down-”

But Mo Xunayu’s face is white and his eyes wet.

“Yu-gege? It’s not that bad, just needs to get cleaned out and wrapped-”

“I did this to you.”

Mo Hao goes silent at just how haunted those words sound, how close to crying his precious brother looks. What? How could Mo Xunayu think that? As if Mo Xunayu has ever hurt him for real. As if-

A distant scream catches their attention and suddenly one of the gashes closes itself on Mo Hao’s arm.

Chapter Text

If someone had to die on this mission, having it be that unpleasant brat of a young master is preferable to some hapless maid that hadn’t said a cross word in her life. Lan Jingyi lets himself really, truly feel that sentiment, then sighs and consigns himself to copying rules when they get back to Cloud Recesses. Managing his own impulses and unkindly thinking is often a process of giving in and accepting punishment later. Sure, he could get out of writing lines if he says nothing, but then Lan Sizhui might find out anyway because he absolutely reads minds (Lan Jingyi is this close to proving it) and then he’ll give Lan Jingyi the I’m-not-mad-just-disappointed face, which Lan Jingyi cannot under any circumstances stand to see today.

So, he promises he’ll fess up and submit himself for discipline later, then mentally promises Lan Sizhui to do it too, just in case he’s listening in.

Anyway. They have a body now, which is not ideal. Lan Jingyi usually tries to end his missions with fewer dead bodies than he’d arrived with. What’s worse is that the madam is sobbing over the body and Lan Jingyi has never been good at comforting anyone he doesn’t particularly like. He gets it! This is very sad and tragic for her! Of course she’d be crying! But what is he supposed to do in this situation?!

He glances over to his much less empathetically challenged fellow disciple and thank goodness, Lan Sizhui’s face is doing the thing where it looks believably sad for someone else. (Lan Sizhui probably even is sad for her, bleeding heart that he is.) How he learned to do that with a mentor like Hanguang-jun is a mystery, but yay! They’re saved from Lan Jingyi’s ineptitude.

This was supposed to be a pretty routine sort of night hunt. Low level walking corpses, easy prey that was simple to deal with, their attention more focused on figuring out why the influx happened rather than expecting any real danger. Well, danger other than what panicked mundane people tend to get up to, anyway. Lan Jingyi will take a yao over a terrified civilian any day. But no, they hadn’t expected any deaths except purely accidental ones. There’s nothing accidental about the way young master Mo got drained of his life. Like his flesh and blood had been sucked dry. Lan Jingyi shivers a little.

As Madam Mo gets pulled off her son’s corpse, Lan Jingyi steps closer to get a better look. It really is horrific, aged and sunken like a body that’s been left for years somewhere too dry to rot. Hasn’t even started smelling yet, which is weird considering how humid the area is. Then again, if this is the work of a spirit, then the young master might have only been dead for less than an incense stick before he was found. Not nearly enough time for death loving critters to settle in.

Weirder still is that the corpse is missing its left arm. Lan Jingyi squints at it, mostly tuning out the sounds of Madam Mo’s grief and his fellow Lans’ attempts to placate her. What kind of spirit takes a body part like this? And then he notices something else and carefully nudges open the corpse’s robes to reveal damning evidence of exactly what had happened here.

“Sizhui,” he calls, tugging out the pilfered spirit attraction flag. Glancing over his shoulder, he sees the way Lan Sizhui’s lips purse in recognition. This was all the idiot’s own fault!

“This is all their fault!” Madam Mo roars suddenly, rearing back from the hands trying to lead her away. “Those terrible brats, it could only have been them that dared hurt my precious A-Yuan!”

Brats? Before Lan Jingyi can even begin to unpack that, Madam Mo sends several servants out to go retrieve her scapegoats. He rises to his feet, the flag in hand, and shares a look with the others. It’s subtle, but Lan Jingyi’s old hat at reading disgust, pity, and annoyance in the smooth faces of other Lans. He’s not the only one completely done with this whole trip.

“Madam Mo,” Lan Sizhui tries to intervene, bless his hopeful little heart. “It seems-”

“It seems like you lot are all useless, letting a such a sweet child die!”

Oh, yeah, no. Lan Jingyi is fresh out of sympathy suddenly. Even Lan Sizhui’s face has gone tight. The amount of restraint Lan Jingyi is showing right now in not walking right out the door should be worshiped. He returns to Lan Sizhui’s side and mutters under his breath, “Do we really have to stay?”

“Yes,” Lan Sizhui says, his lips thinning into an even more put upon smile that makes him look so much like Zewu-jun during particularly terse sect negotiations. Wow, that makes Lan Jingyi wonder how often Zewu-jun just wants to throttle someone. His musings are cut short as two people are dragged in. One is a couple years younger than him, the other a full grown man, but their expressions are nearly mirrored looks of resignation. Their clothes are threadbare and of an older fashion, like hand-me-downs from older relatives, with dirt ground in several places. It’s obvious these aren’t well loved young masters like the dead guy.

“You!” Madam Mo snarls as soon as she sees them, pointing a damning finger at the two. “This is all your fault! My poor, sweet A-Yuan is gone because of you!”

The older man’s lips press tight before he bows his head. Before he can speak, the boy juts out his chin arrogantly and says, “Sure, why not. I definitely killed him while being nowhere near where he was, a third his size, and busy being in confinement for the last several hours!”

Madam Mo slaps him hard enough across the face that he staggers to one side before the older man quickly moves between the two.

“Madam, please,” he says, hands lifted. “Please hit me instead! You know I enjoy it.”

What.

Madam Mo is similarly surprised, but it quickly morphs into disgust. “You lunatic- You- you- you-”

“Yes, yes, totally bonkers, that’s me,” the apparent lunatic says, flashing a toothy smile despite the way his worried eyes flicker back towards the boy and then the Lans. Like he’s searching out dangers and exits in the environment. Oh, Lan Jingyi does not like this at all. “Madam should absolutely beat me bloody, it would make me the most happy and doesn’t Madam always cater to this lowly one’s desires?”

The little comments Lan Jingyi heard from townspeople and servants alike start to line up as he realizes who this man is. Son of the late second madam, Mo Xuanyu, which means the younger one must be his little brother Mo Hao. From what Lan Jingyi overheard, they aren’t well liked within the household, and also the older one is insane. How much of that is real and how much an act to keep attention off Mo Hao, as it clearly is right now, is debatable.

The first Madam Mo is getting redder in the face as rage overtakes everything, even her grief. “That’s it! That’s it, I will not have such a degenerate in my home any longer!”

Turning to her almost dazed looking husband, Madam Mo demands for the immediate expulsion of the two brothers, but Lord Mo barely seems to notice. In his defense, Lan Jingyi would probably check out most of the time too if he was married to someone like this. Lan Jingyi relates, considering how much he wants to not be here, but that relating ends abruptly when Lord Mo goes on the attack because right under their noses, he’s been murdered and turned into a fierce corpse with ridiculous speed.

Things get really messy after that. Lord Mo is subdued only for a servant to have the same fate befall him, complete with a horrifying suicide by breaking his own neck. And if it isn’t bad enough, after they confirm the servant is extra dead, it turns out Lord Mo is missing his left arm just like Mo Ziyuan. They have a crazy dangerous malicious spirit with an arm fetish. Lan Jingyi is going to scream.

Then the lights go out and the mundane people, predictably, lose their minds. Because that’s helpful in this sort of situation, now isn’t it?

“Stay where you are, don’t run!” he shouts. “We’ll arrest whoever runs!!”

Chaos is probably exactly what this thing wants in the first place and will make it that much easier for it to escape and- And now the servant is missing his left arm, too. If Madam Mo says one more word against them, Lan Jingyi really is going to scream. He can almost hear what vitriol she’s going to spout out next already. This is the sort of thing that makes someone turn to demonic cultivation!!!

A light flickers on as Lan Sizhui activates a talisman and then lights the candles around. Lan Jingyi gives the crowd a look over, noting the two Mo brothers standing close to one another and Madam Mo with her head hanging low. Maybe she’s reflecting on her behavior! Couldn’t happen to a nicer woman.

“We need to call for the seniors,” Lan Sizhui says quietly with a glance to Lan Jingyi, who is entirely in favor. So in favor that he immediately steps out to set off the flare. Soon, they’ll get the backup they need for whatever this thing is because Lan Jingyi is not so egotistical that he can’t admit they’re vastly out of their league. Three deaths in less than a shichen? What the hell is this thing!?

He steps back inside, attention drawn to the way Mo Xuanyu has tugged down Mo Hao’s sleeve to look at his wrist. There is a cut, fresh and likely only hours old, but no sign of infection that Lan Jingyi can see. An accident or part of the abuse Lan Jingyi is entirely aware has been perpetrated here? Whatever the cause, something about it has Mo Xuanyu looking worried and distinctly not crazy. Another sign that it’s all an act.

Mo Hao’s brows furrow a bit before he looks directly towards the still quiet Madam Mo. There’s something going on behind his eyes, which flicker to the bodies and then up to his brother.

“Right handed,” he says. It takes a moment before Mo Xuanyu’s eyes widen and he looks quickly to the bodies as well.

“They struck with the left…”

Oh yeah, definitely a total act! But now Lan Jingyi’s struggling to follow just what they’re going on about before Lan Sizhui orders them to hold Madam Mo down, which doesn’t end up going well. In the struggle, Lan Jingyi mostly forgets about the Mo brothers and instead tries to keep this newest fierce corpse from taking them out. Too strong for a woman of her mundane status and size, how is any of this fair? And then someone kicks him in the back and he plows into Lan Sizhui, knocking them both to the ground with the one fortunate side effect of keeping Lan Sizhui from getting his throat torn out. Lan Jingyi’s uniform gets wrecked, he’s as pissed off as he’s ever been in his life, this whole day is the worst!

Well, then Madam Mo drops, the left arm drops off her, and the Lans go through progressively more desperate measures trying to contain the apparently evil arm so it stops stacking bodies. It’s awful! Lan Jingyi wants a refund!!

Somewhere in the background, under Lan Sizhui’s commanding voice, Lan Jingyi thinks he hears something other than whimpering servants, but he doesn’t pay any attention to it until Madam fucking Mo gets up again and goes rabid on the arm. It’s honestly just super disgusting, the way the two of them rip and tear at each other. Enough to turn anyone’s stomach, and Lan Jingyi is totally used to dealing with walking corpses in varying states of decay.

Movement catches his attention and Lan Jingyi’s gaze twitches to where Lord Mo’s body lays. What the hell are the Mo brothers doing, kneeling next to it? Had they been close despite everything? Had they-

The arm gets the upper hand (Lan Jingyi wants to groan over his own mental narration) and snaps Madam Mo’s neck, making her way less of a threat. It tears off her right arm next, scratches clawed fingers into her face. Then it rears up, more like a beast than something that had once been human, before Lan Jingyi hears the most beautiful sound he’s ever borne witness to.

Two clear, skillful guqin notes.

After that, things move very quickly. Hanguang-jun descends like an avenging angel to make order from the chaos of the scene. In short order, Madam Mo and the arm are subdued and the scene secured as Hanguang-jun’s expert playing settles everything down long enough for them to capture the arm in a qiankun bag for later eradication when it proves difficult to do so on scene. The corpse of Madam Mo gives in easily once she’s laid down next to her son, and all three are cleansed of their resentment to keep them from rising anew. Something about Madam Mo’s corpse causes Hanguang-jun pause, considering the way he lingers at it with the slightest pinch between his brows.

It’s a total mess, but they’ve won the day and that’s all Lan Jingyi cares about. That means they get to go home once they’ve finished purifying the manor itself of all the resentment that’s soaked into sneaky corners. Hanguang-jun sends several of their number through the house to do clean up before turning to Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi as the head and second of the hunt. Hells, Lan Jingyi has never been more glad not to be leading missions yet since that means Lan Sizhui gets the full intensity Hanguan-jun can bring to bear. Lan Sizhui reports on the mission in the most efficient way possible just like they’d been taught. At the end, Hanguang-jun merely nods and glances back towards Madam Mo.

Then Lan Sizhui frowns and tugs at Lan Jingyi. “Where are they?”

“Who?” Lan Jingyi asks, having been busy being relieved at how things ended because it means they can leave.

“Those gongzis. The brothers.”

“Huh? Why are you looking for them? Maybe the younger one dragged his masochist brother away to keep from getting him beat up again and ran away.”

Lan Sizhui’s expression doesn’t even out as he glances back to the last place he’d seen the two, but they don’t have much time to consider them. Not when one of the other disciples comes running back to report on a demonic summoning array that had been found. And, well, investigation takes precedence to getting home for a nice bath. Lan Jingyi sighs and dutifully marches out with the others to examine the array while cursing his fate.

Several parts of the bloody pattern are smudged, as if a body had fallen into the middle of it. Or two rather, since the smudges seem to be in two distinct parts. Lan Sizhui kneels down at the edge of the array to get a closer look as Hanguang-jun peers at it over him with an even more opaque expression than normal. From what Lan Jingyi can tell, it was a summoning and sacrifice deal, bringing back-

“The Yiling Patriarch,” he breathes out, ice rolling down his back. Some idiot had tried to summon Wei Wuxian from the dead. The Lan played Inquiry so on a regular basis, mostly to make sure he continued not appearing before them, but there’d been no activity for thirteen years now. No indication that Wei Wuxian’s soul lingered, whole or in pieces.

“The boy was injured,” Lan Sizhui says. He sounds sick.

Had someone tried to use Mo Hao as a sacrifice? Or, had Mo Hao been the one to draw the array? Lan Jingyi’s entire body stiffens up because if Mo Hao had done it but still lived, what did that mean for Mo Xuanyu?

Was that even Mo Xuanyu or had they witnessed a newly reborn Yiling Patriarch with a body again? Acting the fool to throw them off the scent long enough for him to escape with his shiny new captive/future sacrifice?

“Find them,” Hanguang-jun orders tersely, and Lan Jingyi waves goodbye to that bath for the foreseeable future.

Chapter Text

“Oi, pay attention,” Mo Xuanyu says as Mo Hao stares off into space again. They’ve only been traveling for a little over a day, skirting around any and all other human beings, and he’s already half convinced he’d signed his brother’s death certificate deciding to leave in the first place before someone other than them was definitively blamed for the whole thing, but the preoccupation just makes it more likely.

“Sorry.” Mo Hao shakes his head as if to rid himself of whatever keeps overtaking his thoughts. It doesn’t last long and he’s soon lost in his own head again. This time Mo Xuanyu just huffs and keeps an eye out to make sure Mo Hao doesn’t trip over a root and break his stupid neck.

“What are you thinking about so deeply, anyway?”

Mo Hao hums, considering his words, before blurting out, “I just don’t understand how they keep such white fabric clean!”

What.

“Their clothes? That’s what you’re obsessing over? They probably just have some kind of cleaning talisman sewn into the cloth.”

That earns him the most betrayed look Mo Hao has ever worn in his life. “They have those?! Why didn’t you teach me?!”

Which of course is just a prelude to them having to stop so Mo Xuanyu can go over the basics of cleaning talismans and arrays, as in depth as he knows how to do. Not too surprising, considering that’s how most of Mo Hao’s cultivation study both traditional and demonic has gone, but then it leads into triggering Mo Hao’s uncanny ability to understand more than he’s told and they can’t continue until Mo Hao has figured out a more efficient way to do the basic cleaning talisman on his own robes with only the faintest amount of qi, drawing it in with his own blood since they don’t have any ink. Then, he has to make it work with only resentful energy, too. It takes a few hours. They’re both in probably the cleanest clothes they’ve ever worn in their lives, even if the marks won’t last long.

Mo Xuanyu keeps wondering when he’s going to get jealous of his genius little brother and it just keeps not happening.

When the cleaning talisman debate is over and they’re on the move again, Mo Xuanyu starts feeling an itch in his shoulders like something’s coming. Something big and probably awful, knowing his luck. He keeps that to himself. He also keeps to himself where they’re heading. On Mo Hao’s arm is still one more slash left, and Mo Xuanyu knows exactly who it’s for. He’s not sure how to remedy that just yet, but it will take weeks to get to Koi Tower on foot. Surely, he’ll figure something out along the way. There has to be a way to murder Jin Guangyao even if Mo Xuanyu has to detonate himself to do it. Anything to keep Mo Hao safe.

His eyes slide back to his brother again. This is the first time Mo Hao has been away from Mo Manor and the difference is astonishing. Mo Hao has never smiled this much before. His gaze is bright and intensely fascinated with literally everything around them, his voice light and cheery. Even just traveling through this forest, he’s almost shining. Like he has nothing to worry about. Like there’s nothing that can threaten him again now that they’re not under the harsh thumbs of the other Mo family members.

It’s something not quite guilt that twists in Mo Xuanyu’s chest, seeing the ease in his brother’s body language, but it’s close. If only Mo Xuanyu had pulled himself together earlier, they might have left years ago. Surely, he’d have figured out some way to keep Mo Hao safe. Now will just have to do, he supposes. It’s terrifying, being out on their own, but there’s no way they could have stayed. He would do anything to save Mo Hao from being sold off somewhere by murderers.

See? I can still do something right, he tells their departed mother. I promise I’ll make something of us.

Now that they’re out of Mo Manor, it’s up to him to figure out a life for them after Jin Guangyao’s murder (assuming they survive it). Mo Hao’s cultivation is strong enough to go on night hunts with supervision, Mo Xuanyu decides, so they need to go find some. They’ll surely be able to make enough money to survive on, maybe even enough to buy Mo Hao a sword. If not, Mo Xuanyu can do short labor jobs between hunts to make up the difference. The whole world is open to them now! It’s big and perilous, but there’s nothing they can’t get through together.

There’s nothing Mo Xuanyu isn’t willing to endure to make sure his brother is safe.

As they walk further into the foothills of Dafan Mountain, they talk more about different types of talismans, about the different sects, about spells and arrays and anything else that pops up into Mo Hao’s mind to ask about now that they aren’t going to get interrupted by duties or rude relatives. It’s so engrossing that Mo Xuanyu entirely misses the net that triggers under his foot. Then another body collides with him and he falls on his ass with a yelp. Mo Xuanyu jerks up and stares at Mo Hao, caught up in a- Oh no.

“Are you okay?” Mo Hao asks, because of course he doesn’t worry about his own safety. High up as that immortal binding net has drawn itself, he could break so many bones if it were to fall. Mo Hao is still so small, even at thirteen. Who knows if he’d be able to reinforce his legs with enough qi fast enough to not get hurt falling from such a height?!

“Fine, just- Just stay still. I’ll get you out.”

Mo Xuanyu follows the line frantically to find where it’s been secured. As long as he braces himself sufficiently, he should be able to lower Mo Hao down safely. Demonic cultivation doesn’t lend itself to assisting with feats of physical strength, but Mo Xuanyu isn’t entirely hopeless at the orthodox methods either, even if his little brother’s core has already surpassed his own in power. The real question is whether he can even get the tie loose in the first place without a spiritual weapon at all, much less of a higher grade.

Now that he’s paying attention, he notices several places with disturbed ground nearby, like someone’s gone to a great deal of trouble to seed the whole place with spiritual traps. Is there some kind of large scale night hunt going on?! Maybe he should have stopped in that last town to check in on local rumors after all, instead of avoiding any and all human contact. The plan is to go kill Jin Guangyao without delay, then hide out around Qinghe for a few years, not get sidetracked by problems along the way!

Just their fucking luck. Hopefully whoever set this net is off setting another far enough away that Mo Xuanyu and Mo Hao will be well on their way before said setter comes back to check-

Footsteps, rushed and quickly approaching, and Mo Xuanyu barely has enough time to turn around before a familiar face bursts out of the dark woods. Shit. This is literally the worst possible person to come across.

“You!” Jin Ling of the Lanling Jin shouts, pointing an accusing finger at Mo Xuanyu like this meeting is at all Mo Xuanyu’s fault. “What, you went crazy after getting kicked out of the sect and now you’re here to ruin my hunt? Four hundred immortal binding nets set and I’ve already lost a dozen to idiots like you!”

Considering Mo Xuanyu had no idea there was a hunt, he doesn’t think he can be held responsible for this.

“Don’t cry about your own mistakes!” Mo Hao yells from the net, making it swing in the air as Jin Ling gives him an offended look.

“Who’s crying!? And who would take orders from someone stupid enough to ruin one of my nets?”

“Probably someone stupid enough to need so many of them in the first place!”

Mo Xuanyu sighs with a glance skyward, and then folds himself into a polite solute. “This one apologizes for our interference and begs that Jin-gongzi show the mercy of cutting his brother down.”

Jin Ling huffs, eyeing Mo Xuanyu suspiciously. “And leave you to get in my way again? Once I’ve captured the soul-eating beast, maybe I’ll come cut him down then. If I remember it.”

“Remember my face, you stuck up little-”

Heavens save him from his brother’s temper. “This one implores Jin-gongzi to cut his brother down now so that we may leave the mountain entirely and leave Jin-gongzi to his hunt!”

“Stop being nice to this pipsqueak!” Mo Hao yells like he’s not smaller than Jin Ling, completely ruining any chance Mo Xuanyu might actually get him down sometime this century.

“How dare you!” Jin Ling yells back with matching outrage in every inch of his body. “You- First a disgusting cut-sleeve and now a disrespectful brat who doesn’t know how to respect his betters, what kind of family is this?!”

Mo Xuanyu winces, fingers curling into tight fists as he tries very hard not to think about the events that lead to anyone knowing about his predilections towards other men, and scraps his brain for any way to salvage this. They just need to get Mo Hao cut down, then the two of them can leave the mountain and go around the long way to Lanling. Surely, Jin Ling spotting them even this close to Jin territory won’t interfere with their ability to murder Jin Guangyao, right? They just have to keep a low profile until the deed is done!

Hard to do when Mo Hao seems determined to cause an entire incident.

“Cut me down and say that to my face!” his brother calls to a red-faced Jin Ling. “Coward! Do you even know how to use that sword of yours, relying on stupid nets like this?!”

Jin Ling snaps. Mo Xuanyu has only a split second of time to react as the net gets cut and Mo Hao starts to drop. While small for his age, Mo Hao is still a considerable weight when Mo Xuanyu dives to catch him and break his fall. It’s enough to topple him over, but Mo Hao’s quick to roll onto his feet as he brandishes his carved stick sword like a real weapon. Jin Ling doesn’t hesitate to attack with his own, too angry to have any sense.

Well. This is happening apparently. Mo Xuanyu scrambles up just as Mo Hao’s sword crackles with spiritual energy, making it as hard as rock and able to withstand the first of Jin Ling’s strikes, but that won’t last. Doesn’t last as Jin Ling’s next swipe cuts several inches off the tip of it while Mo Hao leaps back to avoid worse. There’s just no competition between the two weapons, no matter how clever Mo Hao is.

A palm strike from Mo Xuanyu knocks Jin Ling’s sword off from skewering Mo Hao, even if it leaves Mo Xuanyu’s hand smarting terribly, and then Mo Xuanyu puts himself between them with both hands out as he begs, “Please, Jin-gongzi! Please forgive this one’s terrible brother, he will be disciplined!”

He can feel Mo Hao’s outrage behind him, but Jin Ling sneers as he steps back, apparently not as eager to cut down an unresisting man as he had been an impetuous fellow youth.

“Of course he’ll be disciplined!” Jin Ling says. “By me!”

“You can try!” Mo Hao snaps back even as he tries to get around Mo Xuanyu. Mo Xuanyu very carefully does not let that happen.

“Be silent,” he hisses back to his brother, not letting himself feel bad about the look of betrayal on Mo Hao’s face. Had all his brother’s sense of self preservation been left behind at Mo Manor?!

Which is, of course, when a group of other cultivators in Jiang sect purple touch down around them and things go from bad to even worse. Mo Xuanyu doesn’t know what he did in a past life that so poisoned his current one, but he wants to curse his old self to the ends of the Earth.

“What’s going on here?” the leader of the group asks. His voice is as uncompromising as it is commanding, the harsh edge to it familiar enough to send a shiver down Mo Xuanyu’s spine. He might have been able to get Jin Ling to let them off with a tongue lashing, but there’s no way Jiang-zongzhu won’t demand worse if he’s not exceedingly lucky, which he never is. Shit, shit, shit.

Something in Jiang Wanyin’s face shifts as he glances past Mo Xuanyu to catch sight of Mo Hao. Surprise and something Mo Xuanyu is too slow to read after, something that makes purple lightning spark around one of his hands as ice fills Mo Xuanyu from the inside.

“My greatest apologies!” Mo Xuanyu cries as he bows as low as he can without falling over, grabbing Mo Hao by the back of his head to jerk him down with him. The carved stick sword falls from Mo Hao’s hand and hits the ground in light of Mo Xuanyu’s excessive formality. “My brother is young and impulsive! It is truly this older brother’s failure to have not corralled his words in the face of such a resplendent young master!”

He feels Mo Hao’s side-eye, but his brother miraculously stays quiet. Maybe he’s noticed the way Mo Xuanyu’s hands are shaking.

“You think that’s going to be enough?!” Jin Ling asks, only to go still and silent after. Slow, steady footsteps approach, stopping only a few feet away.

“Stand up,” Jiang Wanyin snaps. In a moment, Mo Xuanyu straightens and pulls Mo Hao with him, keeping himself between them. He needn’t have tried. Jiang Wanyin’s harsh gaze is locked onto Mo Hao’s face alone, like he’s searching for something. “Who are you?”

“This humble one is-”

“Not you.”

Mo Hao stiffens behind, but he’s meeting Jiang Wanyin’s gaze without flinching when Mo Xuanyu glances over his shoulder. The salute Mo Hao gives is picture perfect and not at all sincere. “Mo Hao, son of Mo Naifan.”

Not mentioning their father in favor of their mother is telling, especially when who that likely is can be inferred by the fact that those here are undoubtedly aware who Mo Xuanyu’s is. A declaration of separation, stubbornly refusing to be claimed. Rudeness Jin Ling picks up on immediately with a sharpened glare, but Jiang Wanyin only narrows his eyes.

Jiang Wanyin is not someone who will cave to the crazy act, so Mo Xuanyu doesn’t even try it in his attempt to get out of this without his little brother being whipped bloody.

“Please,” Mo Xuanyu tries, bowing his head again. “Please, my brother is young and stupid. Let this unworthy older brother submit himself to punishment in his stead for the inability to reign him in!”

Mo Hao sucks in a swift breath, surely getting ready to interfere like an idiot, but another crackle of energy from Jiang Wanyin’s ring keeps him from speaking out. A slight shift puts Mo Xuanyu more solidly between the two of them.

“Please,” he says again. “Please let us go and we promise we will not interfere any further with the hunt-”

“There they are!!”

Mo Xuanyu jerks, recognizing that voice, and jerks his head up. From behind the Jiang disciples, two cultivators in Lan colors run up. Familiar looking cultivators. A set of boys only a little older than Mo Hao, one with a strained smile and the other looking mutinous at his side.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Jiang Wanyin demands as the Jiang disciples part ways for the two Lan disciples. They salute Jiang Wanyin with varying levels of politeness.

“Jiang-zongzhu,” the smiling one says as he straightens. “These two were witnesses in an ongoing investigation and the Lan sect would be in your debt, were they to be released to our custody for further questioning.”

Oh, that doesn’t sound good. That sounds very not good. Suspicion streaks through the Jiang sect members as they give Mo Xuanyu and Mo Hao a more appraising look. Shit, this is exactly what Mo Xuanyu needs not to happen right now, but maybe the Lans just want more information? Yeah, that’s why they’d apparently been looking for the two of them for a couple days now. Totally.

“We’re not done with them,” Jiang Wanyin snaps, because apparently, Mo Xuanyu’s day is just bound to get worse. At least neither of them had performed any demonic cultivation where the Jiangs or Jin Ling could see, Mo Xuanyu at least managed to pound that lesson into Mo Hao’s head!

Speaking of Mo Hao. As the Jiangs and Lans distract each other, Mo Hao tugs the edge of Mo Xuanyu’s sleeve to catch his attention. They share a glance, Mo Xuanyu almost seeing the terrible, half assed plan forming in Mo Hao’s brain and shaking his head minutely to stop him from doing something stupid. But then again, how can staying here be any better? Mo Xuanyu glances between the Jiangs and Lans, not a single set of eyes is pointed their way. He swallows the lump in his throat and then reaches up to bite into the pad of his thumb.

The talisman is quick to draw on their arms and takes little qi to activate. He’d only ever used it before to meet with Jin Guangyao secretly, but it works just as well now to let both he and his brother fade from view and disappear into the trees. Time to get off this mountain before the Lans drag them off for who knows what.

Chapter Text

They nearly stumble into two more nets on their way before a jet of blue cuts through dozens of nets in seconds, leaving the remains behind in its wake. Mo Xuanyu pulls Mo Hao behind a tree as they wait, absolutely still, to see if the owner of that sword glare will follow it. When it doesn’t, Mo Xuanyu relaxes a little and Mo Hao wiggles out of his grasp to go poke at one of the downed nets. It’s not like he’s seen one before, other than the one he’d gotten caught in, and he’d been a little too distracted then to examine it properly. When Mo Xuanyu doesn’t stop him from doing it, Mo Hao tucks a few of the ruined nets into his sleeve. Who knows when they might be useful later somehow?

“Keep moving,” Mo Xuanyu urges him, nervously glancing around them. “Nothing good can come of those Lans catching us, even if Hanguang-jun wasn’t with them.”

In Mo Hao’s opinion, it’s too bad Hanguang-jun hadn’t been there. He’s not sure he’s ever seen a more beautiful man in his life, and he hadn’t even gotten that good a look at him. Still, the opportunity to look upon beauty won’t keep them safe from whatever the Jiangs might have done to them. Even stuck in Mo Manor, Mo Hao heard about Jiang-zongzhu and his vendetta against anything that even smells like demonic cultivation. If he thought they were involved in some…

And then Mo Hao realizes he recognized Jiang-zongzhu’s face. It’s enough to stop him dead in his tracks, even as Mo Xuanyu tugs at him insistantly.

“We don’t have time for daydreaming, what’s with you?”

Jiang-zongzhu is one of the people from his dreams. What does it mean that Mo Hao has seen a man in his dreams for years, but never met him until today? Unless he’s misremembering- No, no, that face appears too often for him to ever forget it. He remembers it younger, yelling at him or raging, but there’s no mistake. That is Jiang-zongzhu in his dreams. Part of the crowd that kills him in fire and brimstone.

In the dreams, there’s always something melancholic about seeing him there, and yet also inevitable.

“Come on!” Mo Xuanyu says with growing urgency. The real fear in his voice is enough to snap Mo Hao out of his thoughts and they get moving again. Surely, the Jiangs and Lans have noticed their escape by now. He’ll figure out what Jiang-zongzhu’s presence in his dreams mean later.

They skirt the foothills for most of the day even as some curious activity sparks up on the mountain, ducking out of sight or using Mo Xuanyu’s invisibility talisman if they hear anyone coming near. Rude of his big brother to hold out on him with such a useful ability! There’s so many more creepy critters Mo Hao might have been able to plant in the manor, had he been able to assure he wouldn’t be seen. He promises himself to pester Mo Xuanyu into teaching it to him once they get to Lanling, even if it seems to be straining his brother’s spiritual reserves.

Mo Hao isn’t entirely sure why they’re going to Lanling. Anytime he’s mentioned it since they left the manor, Mo Xuanyu just looks at his arm and gets guilty before hurrying their pace. Something to do with that stupid sacrificial summoning thing no doubt. Mo Hao regrets not getting a better look at the array to figure out just what Mo Xuanyu expected the summoned demon to do for him. Unless it had been verbal commands during the summoning itself, something Mo Hao missed before his arrival…? But three of the slashes had disappeared with the deaths of the Mo family, so presumably the last is also about the life of another person. Just who would his brother have enough of a grudge against-

“Stop dawdling!”

Anyway. It’s getting dark when they get far enough around the mountain to veer off more directly towards Lanling. Mo Xuanyu seems a little less paranoid that Lans will appear out of nowhere to apprehend them. What do the Lans even think they did? Surely, they can’t think Mo Xuanyu and Mo Hao are responsible for the demonic arm? Unless that’s exactly it and-

“Oh,” he says, stumbling a bit and causing his brother to look back with worry. “We didn’t clean up your stupid array.”

Mo Xuanyu stares at him for several moments incredulously before he smacks himself in the forehead and drags his hand down his face. “Shit.”

Yeah, not a good look, finding evidence of a demonic summoning and then having a demonic entity murder a whole family. Maybe they can explain that Mo Xuanyu’s summoning array had nothing to do with the demonic arm? Er, probably didn’t? But then there’s the wound on Mo Hao’s arm… Nope, this is not a good look at all.

“Are there songs that make you tell the truth?” Mo Hao asks. He’s not sure exactly what the Lan musical cultivation can do, since Mo Xuanyu hadn’t studied closely enough to teach him about it.

“Probably?!” Mo Xuanyu’s voice cracks, high pitched with stress, and Mo Hao immediately takes his hand to pat it.

“Don’t worry. This little brother will handle all the talking.”

He gets an incredulous look for his trouble. “When have you ever been able to talk your way out of anything instead of making it worse?”

“Rude! See if I ever do you a favor.”

But Mo Xuanyu is a little busy freaking out to rise to the bait and the jokes haven’t helped. He runs a hand down his face, then looks back towards the mountain. Swallowing, he shuts his eyes tight before turning resolutely back towards Lanling.

“Just one more and then you’re free and we’ll figure out what to do next,” Mo Xuanyu mutters nonsensically, and then refuses to answer any more of Mo Hao’s questions as they travel at something not quite a jog but about as fast as anything called a walk could be.

The night passes quietly outside of Mo Hao’s occasional attempts to pester his brother. It can’t be healthy for Mo Xuanyu to be this high strung, he needs distractions! And Mo Hao is great at distractions.

“Do you think Hanguang-jun has a betrothed?” he asks because he keeps thinking about the man and knows at least that he isn’t married. Maybe he can sneak into Cloud Recesses sometime and get a better look at him. Something tells him it would be worth his while.

“What? No.”

“Why not?”

Mo Xuanyu huffs out a breath and refuses to answer.

A while later, Mo Hao asks, “How hard do you think it’d be to steal one of those forehead ribbons?”

“Wha- no! No, don’t even think about it!!” Mo Xuanyu yells, glaring at Mo Hao. Mo Hao just beams at him. Point in his favor, he finally got his brother to look at him!

“They might make good rope in a pinch,” Mo Hao says with a widening grin. “I mean, Lans go into battle with those on, right? So they must be strong enough to tie up hands or something.”

“Where is this even coming from?! We’re not going near any Lans!”

Mo Hao pouts, kicking a stone out from his path. Probably a good idea, all told. The little Mo Hao knows about them, he doubts the Lans would help with the slash in his arm that keeps stinging at random. They might even just kill both him and his brother to be done with it. Sure, Lans are supposed to be righteous and all, but in Mo Hao’s experience, people usually just look for easy answers and easier targets.

…Might be worth it to get another look at Hanguang-jun though.

After a day and night of travel with little rest, Mo Xuanyu finally lets them drop in a clearish spot between the trees at dawn. Well, more that Mo Hao just kind of collapses and then refuses to get back up. He’s tired. His feet hurt, his back hurts, he’s so very sleepy. Sure, his cultivation has definitely blunted a lot of the exhaustion from travel, but it isn’t so mature that he can just go indefinitely. Mo Xuanyu stuffs some rations into his hands and then sits with his back up against one of the trees so he can keep watch.

“You’re tired, too,” Mo Hao points out, wiggling along the ground until he can lay his head on his brother’s lap.

“I’ll wake you up at midday,” Mo Xuanyu lies.

It’s nearing evening when Mo Hao’s eyes open. There’s a familiar hand in his hair, carding through loose strands. Where did his ribbon go? Mo Hao grumbles as he pushes himself up, yawning widely. He notices immediately how late it is and shoots his brother a glare.

“Hungry?” Mo Xuanyu asks innocently.

“You should have woke me up,” Mo Hao shoots back.

“I’m fine. Now eat something so we can get going.”

Mo Hao takes the offered breakfast, then stubbornly refuses to get up after. When Mo Xuanyu rolls his eyes and drags Mo Hao up from the ground, Mo Hao lets his body go limp and makes his brother drag him a few steps before Mo Xuanyu gives up.

“Okay, what is it now?”

“Yu-gege needs rest.”

Mo Xuanyu glares at him. “I can rest later. We have to get moving-”

“Oh no, my legs just don’t work anymore! I can’t possibly travel for at least several hours, so you might as well get some sleep and I’ll keep watch.”

It’s a foolproof plan. Mo Xuanyu’s hands twitch like they want to reach out and strangle him, but Mo Hao just smiles beatifically from the ground.

“We don’t have time for this!” Mo Xuanyu says, eyes darting to Mo Hao’s arm. “I’ll rest later-”

“Oh no, now my ears don’t work anymore!”

“You fucking troll! Take this seriously! It’s your life that’s-”

They both freeze as a very conspicuous stick breaks nearby. A second later, Mo Hao is on his feet with a tree branch in his hands and Mo Xuanyu’s already lifting a hand to his mouth to bite into his thumb down to blood. Then light falls over pure white cloth as a man steps into view.

“Hanguang-jun,” Mo Xuanyu says, less like a greeting and more like a groan. He immediately steps in front of Mo Hao, hand jerking out to grab the tree branch and toss it aside. “Ah, hello! It- it must be a blessing to see you again so soon! We won’t keep you long, of course, you’re surely busy with… with…”

He trails off and Mo Hao peeks around Mo Xuanyu’s side. Immediately, Hanguang-jun’s remarkable eyes fall onto Mo Hao’s face and stay there. He really is the most beautiful man Mo Hao has ever seen. Those pale eyes seem to almost melt the longer they rest on Mo Hao, burning with something Mo Hao can’t read even as the rest of his face stays so stubbornly blank. Even blank, it’s a gorgeous face that surely any artist would want to render in paint or carve into jade.

Mo Xuanyu glances between them, mouth tight, and then not so subtly shoves Mo Hao more behind him.

“How can this lowly one be of service to Hanguang-jun?” he asks with a pointed tone.

“You’re needed for further questioning about the incident at the Mo estate,” Hanguang-jun says, and even his voice is just so pretty. Mo Hao’s almost jealous. Where does this man get off being like this when he’s not even looking for a wife? If Mo Hao is even half that beautiful when he grows up, he’ll be drowning in ladies to marry. Ah, what a waste.

“Surely, the great Hanguang-jun knows these two lowly servants had nothing to do with it…?” Mo Xuanyu tries. And fails. Mo Hao knows even before he peeks around him again and sees the continued non-look on Hanguang-jun’s face. That does at least have Hanguang-jun looking at him again, sending a little shiver down his spine.

“You may know more than you think,” is the flat answer. Ah, they’re not wiggling their way out of this, huh? Mo Hao chances a glance up to his brother’s face, but Mo Xuanyu’s attention is fully on the other man. His hands are curled tight in his sleeves.

“We will, of course, cooperate in any way we can,” Mo Xuanyu says.

There’s no acknowledgement. Hanguang-jun just looks at Mo Hao a little more, until Mo Xuanyu pushes him back again, then motions for them to follow him. They don’t really have a choice in the matter. With very little trouble, Hanguang-jun could definitely kill them both. Mo Xuanyu’s expression just makes it clear how well he understands that.

So, damage control mode. As they follow Hanguang-jun to wherever he plans on interrogating them, Mo Hao thinks through their options. They could try to escape again, but Mo Xuanyu is running on dregs and probably can’t spare the qi for his invisibility talismans, much less has the energy for a high speed chase. Mo Hao is certainly not a match for someone like Hanguang-jun to give his brother time to escape, nor would Mo Xuanyu ever leave him behind in the first place. They can’t beat Hanguang-jun together, either. That leaves…

Waiting for an opening. Mo Hao sighs a little. Well, he’s managed more with less, he supposes. The slash in his arm twinges. Maybe if he takes credit for the summoning and shows his arm as proof, Hanguang-jun will be honor bound to both let his brother go as an innocent bystander and make sure he gets safely to Lanling.

But maybe it’s not that bad. Maybe Hanguang-jun just wants to ask questions. Maybe he doesn’t plan on holding them for long. Mo Hao’s luck doesn’t tend to be that good, but Hanguang-jun is always lauded as a hero in the stories Mo Hao heard. Maybe this won’t end terribly.

Except… Except now that Mo Hao thinks about it, Hanguang-jun’s face is just as familiar as Jiang-zongshu’s had been. From his dreams. Oh, Mo Hao has an even worse feeling about this than before.