Chapter Text
When Wangji made good on his promise to visit the shrine a week later, he hadn’t expected to find another familiar youth using it as shelter from the dry cold. Not that it was particularly useful for that, given how small and exposed it was. But perhaps it kept the wind out enough to be of some value. Still, there were plenty of inns in Yiling that were inexpensive, or where lodging could be traded for a day’s work with for the innkeeper. So for the youth to be so desperate…
The person’s hair was a mess of black fluff, with a few braids tangled here and there and adorned with the occasional strand of beads or thin golden chain. Whoever it was, it was likely a runaway young master from a local sect. An heir, or -more likely- a younger son who would never see leadership in his sect.
A spare, like Wangji had been.
Carefully, like one would a wounded animal, Wangji knelt to get a better look and to wake the youth up. He reached out and shook their shoulder gently, and when that failed to rouse them, shook harder. Again, it was in vain. The young master was alive, for Wangji could see the shallow rise and fall of breaths, and there was still a strong presence of living qi in the body. Though, it was a bit underdeveloped and chaotic, like the body of a child who had been born too early.
The body shuddered, a sharp breath inhaled and let out like a leaf shaking in the wind. Uneven, shallow…
Wangji pulled a warming talisman from his sleeve and pressed it to the front of the young master’s robes. Up close like this, he looked familiar. Perhaps a year younger than Xue Yang, at most, with hollow eyes and a slender nose. But that was all under dark bruises and smudges of blood mixed with dirt. Thankfully, the talisman seemed to be working. Still, Wangji shed his outermost layer and draped it over the young master while he tended to the shrine, deciding to bring him back to the Burial Mounds when he returned.
There were more offerings, simple as they were. And no doubt they had come from the villagers an farmers who had left prayers for help with all manners of evil beings. Most were simply low-level resentful spirits or yao wreaking a bit of havoc. Nothing serious to a cultivator, but certainly dangerous to anyone else. And even the most insignificant spirits had the potential to become much, much bigger problems if allowed to fester and grow. Like a weed in a garden, a single one could choke out the life from an entire village in a single night.
Even if it was dedicated to someone who would never hear the prayers, Wangji could still make use of it. And while he was, by no means at all, the alleged god the worshipers thought would answer, he could still help them. In a way, the shrine would be a good place to learn about night hunts in the area. Better than trying to talk to people.
He spent a good deal of time mending the structure itself, arranging things a little more proper. BUt most importantly, Wangji spent what was easily half of the morning painting a new image for the shrine. It was simple, for all he had was a normal writing brush and ink, but it was far better than the crude image that had been there at first. Wangji had felt the cold, delicate fingers over his again as he painted, guiding him through the image. A strange, but not wholly unpleasant experience, truly.
And if the painting ended up looking more like Wei Wangji than the Yiling Patriarch, that was no one’s business.
The winter sun had nearly reached its zenith when Wei Wangji finally stood away his tools and hefted the young master’s body onto his shoulders for the journey back up the mountain. It was by no means a strenuous journey, for none of the path was particularly steep and the youth was worryingly light. Thus, it took barely any time at all for Wangji to return home.
That is, if the eyes in the trees were to be believed.
The grand doors that led into the cave palace were propped open, as if the inhabitants were airing the place out a bit after a good cleaning. And sure enough, that’s what Wangji found.
Xue Yang (who had been given a to-do list and had a particular talisman stuck to his back for the sake of keeping him out of trouble) was up to his elbows in a large steaming tub, wringing furiously at their linens. And bundled up properly, running about the corpse’s ankles, was A-Yuan, giggling in delight as he clambered around with a pair of paper insects. He nearly crashed into Xue Yang as he carried another set of sheets to the basin, resulting in a flurry of curses and the blankets abandoned for the sake of chasing the squealing child around.
In spite of a greta many things, Wangji smiled at the scene.
So, trusting that nothing was going to go awry in the next few minutes, Wangji walked past and carried the young master to the main living space and laid him down on one of the daybeds.
He was just about to find a cloth to wipe down the youth’s face when Xue Yang made his presence known.
“GE!”
Wangji looked up, only to be met with the image of A-Yuan hanging from the fierce-corpse’s arm, laughing like he didn’t have a care in the world.
He sighed.
“Get him off!”
Wangji looked at the unconscious young master once more before rising with a soft groan. Thankfully, Yuan detached himself and flung his arms around Wangji with a delighted giggle.
“Diedie! Yang-ge said you’d make baozi for dinner if I was good!”
Wangji heaved a sigh. It truly was unfortunate that the best way to get either of them to behave was through food.
“En. But Yuan’er must help.”
The little boy nodded eagerly. “Yuan will help!”
Xue Yang snorted. “He sure will.”
“So will Xue Yang,” Wangji said flatly.
He retained enough muscle coordination for his face to twitch in annoyance.
“Until then-“
He set A-Yuan down gently and straightened his clothes before patting his little head.
“-Xue Yang, come.”
Confused, but still bound loosely by the talisman, Xue Yang meandered after Wangji when he retreated into the sitting room.
Upon seeing the unconscious body on the daybed, Xue Yang made a face. Then he promptly flew into a tizzy.
“Who the fuck is that?! Why did you bring a stranger in here?! Don’t you remember the last time strangers were in here, dumbass? The place almost burned down!”
Wangji let him go on a moment longer before casting a weak silencing charm. Much like his love had once done, Xue Yang went through all five stages of grief in a matter of a second, then immediately started cussing him out as best as he could. Wangji simply stared at him, unblinking and expressionless, until he settled down.
“Are you done?”
Xue Yang’s eyes narrowed to slits, silent and seemingly unaware that the charm had already been lifted.
“Help me with him.”
He made a wary noise in the back of his throat, but Xue Yang eventually slunk over to the daybed and crouched down to get a good look.
And immediately started freaking out again.
Granted, it was a silent freak-out, marked by his eyes widening in shock and almost falling on his backside after losing his balance.
“That’s…”
~*~
Xue Yang’s mouth didn’t want to listen. He tried to form the words, he really did, but seeing him there, no doubt almost as dead as Xue Yang…
They hadn’t known each other long, but Xue Yang had nevertheless had a very strong and very unfortunate desire to protect . It didn’t help that the Mo Xuanyu had clung to him relentlessly, and that they’d managed to bond over shitty childhoods.
Alright, so maybe Xue Yang was attached to the bastard.
Just a little.
“Xue Yang.”
Xue Yang’s hands were cold now, he was very aware of that. Maybe it was a bad idea to touch Yu’er’s hollow cheeks with them, already dusted in frostbite.
He did anyway.
“Xue Yang…”
They were keeping him. No two ways about it. Xue Yang would keep this one as close as he could, in any state, then kill his family for being such horrendous bastards and using them both before throwing them out like trash. If his pet Lan wanted to object, or tried to kick Yu’er out, Xue Yang would go with him.
Then where would the Lan be without his new toy?
Xue Yang curled around Yu’er’s chest, face tucked into his neck. This had been…nice, when they were in Qinghe. Xue Yang had also liked it when Yu’er was the one curled up in his lap, like a personal heater against the cold. Neither one had much heat now, but that really didn’t matter.
“Xue Yang!”
Xue Yang did not like being pulled away. He smacked at the offending hand with a sharp hiss, only to be grabbed at again. Didn’t the fucker remember that touching was only on Xue Yang’s terms? They’d had several conversations about it, and still it was an issue. Was it just because Xue Yang was dead now, that the stupid Lan thought that he could just be tossed about?
“Stop fucking touching me!”
Wei Wangji didn’t fucking flinch. Instead, it was Xue Yang who got scolded.
“He needs space to breathe.”
“Fuck off.”
“Do you know him?”
Xue Yang’s thoughts ground to a halt. Did Wei Wangji…not…recognize him?
Distancing himself from the dumb Lan, he snapped, “It’s fucking A-Yao’s bastard brother, that’s who it is, you idiot!”
“Why is he here?”
The nerve!
“Aren’t you the one who drug him here?” Xue Yang asked, utterly bewildered by how someone could be so stupid.
“He was at the shrine…”
Xue Yang made a wide gesture to the body. “In that condition? Or is that your fault, too?”
Wei Wangji shook his head almost imperceptibly. As fucked as it was, he almost looked sad .
Again.
“He was…like that.”
Well.
Shit.
Okay.
“Well are you gonna use your fancy healing tricks to fix him or do I have to wait for him to die so you’ll make another puppet out of him?” Xue Yang snarled. Because currently, absolutely fuck-all nothing was being done to help .
It certainly struck something , because Wei Wangji’s face blanched, eyes wide in horror.
“You think I was going to-“
Xue Yang snapped. “Use him like you do all the others when you pretend I’m not looking?” A cruel laugh rose from his throat like gravel against his damaged vocal cords. “You’re a fucking idiot, trying to keep that from me. I could help you, but Heaven forbid the peerless Hanguang-jun-“
“-Don’t you dare call me-“
“-be caught doing something so ghoulish as fucking around with corpses!” Every word dripped with sarcasm and venom. But it was all true. Just short of actually fucking around with the corpses, the game had been going on for months now, and even Xue Yang was getting grossed out. Which was an impressive accomplishment.
“How dare you-“
“What?” Xue Yang took three steps until his toes bumped Wei Wangji’s. “How dare I what , gege? All those lies of mine you believed, but now that I say something true, you can’t stand it!”
Wei Wangji took a step back. Xue Yang perused. He kept opening and closing his mouth like a fucking fish, lips working around words but never fucking spitting them out. Occasionally, his eyes darted around behind Xue Yang, which was both annoying and weird as fuck-
“Your words mean nothing to me.”
Xue Yang’s eyes popped open, brows in his hairline.
Oh, the audacity—
Xue Yang took a step back, then another. “You’re all alike.”
He wanted to kill him, but he couldn’t . Something kept his hand at bay whenever he got the itch. His joints just..seized up, mind going blank until he could remember how to move again—
It was a horrid gagging from behind him that snapped Xue Yang out of the trance that time.
He spun around so fast it made him dizzy.
Yu’er had shifted where he was laying with a weak groan.
Xue Yang took up his place at the side of the daybed. He had no idea what to do with his hands. He killed people, he didn’t make them better . If he was less pissed at Wei Wangji, he would’ve called him over already. But he was even more frozen in place than Xue Yang was.
More carefully than he’d ever done anything in his life, Xue Yang brushed Yu’er’s hair from his face and helped him sit against the armrest with a pillow behind his head. He was careful not to move the blanket that Wei Wangji had tossed over him, for it was probably the only thing warming him up at the moment.
“Yu’er, you idiot…”
The disgraced son made another weak little noise, finally able to turn his head towards Xue Yang. His eyes didn’t open more than a tiny crack, but it was enough. If he looked closely, it almost looked like he’d tried to say Xue Yang’s name…
Xue Yang’s heart did something funny.
Yu’er was an idiot. Someone had surely dropped him on his head when he was a child.
“Why didn’t you just come with me?”
He was so pretty, even like this. Maybe he’d be prettier than Xue Yang if he died and then came back. Then he wouldn’t shiver when Xue Yang touched him…
“Didn’t…couldn’t…”
“What?” Xue Yang quipped, “Couldn’t stand up to that other bastard? Couldn’t sneak out in the middle of the night and come find me like I told you to?”
Yu’er made a sort of choked off noise as tears began to well up in his eyes. Aiya, he couldn’t help it -the truth was the truth and sometimes Mo Xuanyu really needed to grow a pair and stand up for himself! His only fortune in life must’ve been to never have been left to the streets, or else he would’ve died within a week!
“Fucking idiot, I would’ve taken you with us!”
In true idiot fashion, all he could do was cry.
The weird twist in his heart was back. Xue Yang wanted to rip it out and tear it to shreds. Useless thing. It wasn’t like he actually needed it anymore.
“I’ll…go get medicine for him.”
Ah. Right. The other idiot. The one he didn’t like.
Yu’er made a weak grabby motion near Xue Yang’s hand, and like an idiot himself, he took the dainty thing between his own and just…held it. Like a fool.
You’re in trouble, Xue Yang. So, so much trouble.
~*~
Wei Wangji haunted his own dwelling like an ancient spirit, doomed to walk amid his mistakes and failures for an eternity.
A-Yuan was fast asleep in his new bed, and both Mo Xuanyu and Xue Yang occupied the latter’s space. It was a strange thing, to see Xue Yang of all people being so protective.
“Territorial” may have been a slightly better word, though. Especially in sleep, with his arm draped over Mo Xuanyu’s middle and his face tucked against his neck. He wasn’t asleep, but he looked at peace nonetheless. Xue Yang was a source of perpetual inner conflict for Wangji. For the most part, he could see through the harsh exterior, into the soul of a frightened youth who had never been properly loved or cared for, only exploited and discarded when his usefulness expired. If he had been taken in like his Wei Ying had, before the world could get its hands on him, might he have turned out differently? Wangji had no delusions that he could undo so much trauma, to unmake and remake Xue Yang into something…softer. But he could at least give him stability and safety for as long as he was allowed.
They’d managed to make the caverns somewhat presentable, like the home of a proper Sect Leader. But even with little signs of life everywhere, from A-Yuan’s little toys to Xue Yang’s to the constantly-burning incense that Xue Yang had picked out, it still felt…empty. Devoid of anything truly alive. Like a painting in a book.
Wangji stared at the candle in his hand for a long time, unblinking, even as the wax dripped onto his hand. The pain was…grounding, in a way.
He blinked.
Continued to walk.
Wander…
Despite the burn of the wax, Wangji’s fingers were numb, cold…
He found himself back in the blood pool, staring down at his crimson reflection. He’d traded his forehead ribbon for a silver ornament with a red teardrop gem that fell between his eyes, held on by three chains that circled his head. The gem all but vanished in the reflection now. He knelt slowly, reaching down to the pool with an eerily steady hand. His fingertips barely brushed the surface, not creating even the slightest ripple. Wangji feared that, if the pool was disturbed, it would shatter the dream around him. He’d wake up with little Yuan’s corpse in his arms, his own body screaming in agony, too late to grant his love’s final wish.
Overcome with grief, would it be worth it to drag himself to the pool and never reemerge? Or would Heaven not be so kind as to allow him an easy death? After all he had done, any fortune he may have had, once, was surely lost forever. There would be no regaining any merit, or face, no matter what he did.
His reflection stared back, smiling and mocking him.
Or rather, the shadow behind him smiled, long fingers curled possessively into his hair. It was almost painful, or, it should’ve been. Wangji felt nothing, and still his head moved as it did in the reflection when the shadow tugged, exposing his throat. He swallowed hard, desperately trying to keep the candle from falling. In the reflection, the other shadow hand drug its nails down his neck, slipped between the folds of his robes and scrapped across his chest. Wangji shivered, breath coming in quick, erratic pants. Nothing was touching him, and still he felt everything as if it was real.
Felt the hands tug and pull, scrape and flatten cool palms over clammy skin… Wangji bit off a moan when the hands continued down, down, down, wrapping around-
Wangji dropped the candle into the pool with a broken gasp and the hands vanished with his reflection. He fell back onto his elbows, robes open at the collar and breathing heavily. Wangji let his head fall back, eyes closed. His love’s name was on the tip of his tongue, withheld only by the single thread of dignity that Wei Wangji had left.
( Wei Ying, Wei Ying, Wei Ying…)
I’m here, my love…always here… just reach out, touch…I’m there…
(Trying…failing you…every day.)
A cold, delicate hand caressed his cheek, down his throat, back to his hair. Wangji leaned into it.
It was the sweetest touch he’d ever felt, full of the sorrow and longing that held Wangji down.
(I don’t want to leave)
A faint breath ghosted over the chill of his ear, sending shivers down his spine. Wangji swallowed tightly.
You don’t have to…you can come with me…
It would be so easy…
The hand drew him up until he was tucked against a body. It wasn’t completely…there…but what did it matter?
(Wei Ying…my Wei Ying…)
He was so tired… what would it hurt to rest a moment? To surrender himself for a while, to forget what was falling apart around him?
Oh, to forget…
The fingers carding through his hair scraped at his scalp, soothing his thrumming nerves. He felt so, so heavy…he wanted to close his eyes. Sleep. But… there was something, some reason he needed to stay awake, to push through the fog. But…what was it? It was so hard to remember anything. Wangji blinked, slowly, heavily. How important was it if he couldn’t remember? Surely, he could just…forget…
Rest, my love…I’ll keep you safe while you sleep.
Wei Wangji needed no further prompting. Resting his own hand at the juncture of his lover’s neck and shoulder and breathing in a faint smell of lotus and burnt flesh, Wangji slipped into nothingness.
~*~
Deep in a ravine touched by neither sun nor moon, eyes black as coal and warm as fire snapped open.
“No!”