魏婴 Wei Ying | 魏无羡 Wei Wuxian (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
laughitoff) wrote2022-09-02 05:03 pm
laughitoff) wrote2022-09-02 05:03 pm
palace misc
cw for memories: gore, whipping, torture, war crimes, emasculation, cannibalism, lots of undead/ghost/zombie nonsense, lots of body horror, lots of corpses and corpse bits in uncomfortable places
[NOTEBOOK]
ECHIDNA
PHOENIX
SPHINX
All of them are staring quizzically at what appears to be a ball pit.]
CERBERUS
Ritsuka and Minato are holding bunnies.]
YATAGARASU
Wilbur and Kaeya are rendered more recongizably than the others. Kaeya's figure is slightly marred by a smear of red ink.]
BUGBEAR
BASILISK
Everyone is dressed in a suit, for some reason.
Sprezzatura is sitting on the bar itself, frowning at something off-page, a wineglass held in the curl of her tail.
Rex is toasting the room as a whole with an entire wine bottle.
Malleus is at one end of the bar wearing a contemplative expression. Someone has hung one of those fancy little napkin rings off the tip of one of his horns.
Ace has been caught mid-huff at Malleus, and is holding a small wine jar rather than a bottle.
Lan Wangji is not touching any alcohol at all, and is lining up water glasses on the bar, presumably to prevent the inevitable hangovers. There are also two little bunnies investigating one of his glasses. Someone ding this handsome man for food safety. The green of the ink he's rendered in is also smeared with bright red.
Three members are more in the background -- Endorsi and Zenkichi are intent on a game of cards, and Dream appears to be...pulling a much fiercer ghostly snake out of one of the tiny snakes? Weird.]
NYMPH
KRAKEN
They seem to be winning!]
TSUCHIGUMO
MEMORIES
PREWAR
WAR & POSTWAR
the first rule (dockside pagoda)
It is actually mostly empty, though! There's only one thing of note here: a small stuffed donkey in the middle of the floor.]
-
[You experience a memory, distant and hazy.
You are very small, and you and your family are at a wayside inn on your way to somewhere or other. You are sitting on your father's lap to be able to have your whole head above the level of the table; he is feeding you from his bowl of meat and rice. One bite for him, one bite for you. It's good.
He and your mother are talking. There was some incident the previous day between your mother and some other cultivators on the road, where they'd hailed her in a friendly familiar way and called her a strange title, and she'd returned the friendliness, but with the particular bright smile that meant she had no idea why they were doing this. It had gotten you a free stay here and this free meal, whatever it was.
"Why, I still don't know!" she laughs now over her own bowl. She tries to tempt you with a bite, but you shake your head -- she likes her food much less spicy than you and your father do. "They're from one of the local sects. I think I recognized the balding one in the grey robes--what was his name?"
Your father reminds her.
"--yes, him. It must have been on my way through to Yunmeng, but really, dear! I was young and testing my sword on everything in sight then; I was on hunts for more than twenty nights every moon, with all sorts of other cultivators tagging along! If I tried to keep them all straight my head would come off my shoulders with the weight!"
Your father acknowledges this. "It's a good thing your mother's such a charmer, eh, A-Ying?" he remarks over your head. "She forgets almost everyone and offends almost no one. Papa was lucky his pretty face was one of the ones that stuck in her head, like a little stone."
The thought of your father as a pebble makes you giggle. It is lucky your mouth is not full. Your mother rolls her eyes and twirls a lock of her hair around her finger, married half a decade now and still sometimes coquettish. "I also owed you," she says, "so don't flatter your face too much!"
Your father droops. You reach up with one hand to push his chin up and away from your head, because his head is heavy. He must be making a funny face where you can't see, though, because your mother laughs again.
"It's what my teacher taught me," she says, and this gets your attention, because your mother very rarely talks about her life on the immortal Baoshan Sanren's fabled mountain, though she makes little enough secret of having descended from there. Her voice falls into the cadence of memorized text. "Remember the things that are done for you, not the things you do for others. Keep a light heart, and it will set you free."
-
[In the wake of the memory, the pagoda has filled with a faint, unseasonal mist.
The pale figures of a man and woman stand handsclasped at the railing, sun shining through their forms...they are indistinct, ghostly and unmoving. Parts of their bodies and limbs seem to have been eaten away, though the details of the damage are vague.]
the discovery (a narrow alley mouth)
-
You are dirty and hungry, small enough not to attract too much ire for stealing yet, but also not big or strong enough to defend yourself or what food you can get from the stray dogs that wander around the town. You've gone two days without now, your stomach a roaring pit to replace the angry throb of the bite on your leg now that it's begun to fade (oh, and won't that be a sign of your potential for strong cultivation later, that you can heal such a wound so fast at your age?)
It's the leg that keeps you from running, when the tall man in violet exclaims at the sight of your face. "Please, don't be scared," he says, and you stare at him, because he's not the first adult you think has wanted to grab you but he's definitely the first one to ask about it first. His voice is...kind. Calm. "Do you recognize the name Cangse Sanren, little one?"
You're surprised enough by your mother's name to nod, though you still crowd further under the shelter where he found you when he offers you his hand. His brow creases a little in thought.
There's a stand selling melon nearby, and he buys two sticks of the fruit, summer-sweet and fresh. You can see he hasn't poisoned it or played any trick with it, and he's kept it in your view the whole time, so you accept one of the skewers when he offers it.
You eat it together. It's one of the best things you've ever tasted.
-
[In the memory's wake, a ghost of the tall man has appeared in the alley mouth, still and unmoving. Blood trickles from his mouth; there are many wounds through his chest and stomach.
You might have to walk through him to get back outside...?]
the second chance (a broad tree in one of the town squares)
A lantern dangles from one of the lower branches by the banner (which reads THE SECOND CHANCE), the flame inside bright even in the full day.]
-
It's night in this memory. You're huddled in a tree in the dark, clinging with all four limbs to the branch you're on. You're trembling with fear, listening for the telltale signs of dogs coming for you.
Instead, you hear your name called. "A-Xian!"
A girl -- a very young Jiang Yanli, if you've met her in Reverie -- approaches, lit by a small lantern she's carrying in one hand. She looks tired and untidy, and it spikes guilt in your heart. Instead of answering her, you huddle even closer to the branch, hoping she won't spot you.
"Is it A-Xian? What are you doing up there? I can see you...you've left your shoe under the tree."
You startle. "My shoe!"
"Please, come down. Let's go back," she coaxes.
You swallow hard, heart still pounding with very real fear. “I... I’m not going down. There are dogs.”
She shakes her head, voice soft and kind and worried. "A-Cheng was making things up; there are no dogs. You don't have anywhere to sit on comfortably up there. Your arms will get sore soon, and you might fall down."
You're a little fool, and you hesitate longer than your arms have strength to hold. She tries to catch you, but you still land hard, wailing as you rolls on the ground and clutches your throbbing leg.
"It's broken!"
She does her best to comfort you. “It’s not broken. It shouldn’t be fractured either. Does it hurt a lot? It’s fine. Don’t move. I’ll carry you back.”
“Are...are the dogs there...?”
“No. If any dogs come, I’ll chase them away for you.” She picks up the shoe you left under the tree. “Why did this fall off? Do they not fit?”
“No, they fit," you sniff. They're too big on you, in fact, but you've been taught not to ask for more than what you're given. No one likes a greedy child, the stallkeepers had said, when you got too forward asking them for leftovers at the end of the day.
She helps put it back on you, checks how much room there is at the toe, and shakes her head a little. "It is a little big, isn't it? I'll fix it for you when we get back.”
You don't know what to do with that. You don't know what to do with someone who offers kindness, and keeps offering it. Where does it stop? At what point are you considered greedy? The thoughts disturb you; you're quiet as she pulls you onto her back.
“A-Xian, no matter what A-Cheng said to you, don’t be bothered by it. He doesn’t have a good temper, so he usually plays at home by himself. Those puppies were his favorites. Father sent them away, and so he’s feeling upset, but he’s actually really happy that somebody’s here to be with him. You ran out here and didn’t come back for a long time...I knew to come find you because he’s worried that something happened to you and went to wake me up.”
Before you can answer, a strange sobbing comes on the wind.
“What was that sound? Did you hear it?”
You point. “I heard it. It came from inside that pit!”
You approach and carefully peer down. There's a small body at the bottom, which sits up when they make noise. It's another boy, his face muddied by the fall, the clear track of tears on his cheeks in the lantern-light. Your heart leaps into your throat.
“... Sister!” Jiang Cheng cries.
Jiang Yanli sighs in relief. “A-Cheng, didn’t I tell you to gather a bigger search party?"
He just shakes his head, distressed.
Jiang Yanli sets you down, then helps her brother out of the pit, dabbing at his bleeding forehead with a handkerchief. “Is there something you didn’t tell A-Xian?” she asks.
He takes the handkerchief from her, pressing it to the cut himself. His voice is low. “... I’m sorry.”
She's the one who carries you both back; you both cling to her, the whole way.
-
[In the memory's wake, a ghostly mongrel dog appears, lying between two of the tree's roots. There's something a bit exaggerated about it--the face too fierce and the teeth too sharp for the rest of it. It's still, unmoving, and see-through.]
the head disciple (tied to a kite hovering over another of the docks)
-
It is the summer of your fifteenth year, and you feel like the whole world belongs to you. You're in the forefront of a pack of boys charging through the town towards the docks, all of you stripped to the waist in deference to the heat, laughing and whooping. There's brotherly affection as you take in all of them -- one is your actual brother, and the rest are your junior sect disciples. As head disciple you're supposed to set an example for all of them, and right now you're setting the example of having fun instead of losing to the heat!
You pile into a boat all together, and you hand the paddles off to someone when your back starts to sting. The whip weals there throb, not debilitating but painful.
"How unfair," you sigh. "Nobody else was wearing anything either, but why was I the only one who got scolded and beaten up?"
Jiang Cheng snorts. "Because you hurt the eyes the most without clothes on, for sure."
You give him a look only older brothers can give, and then dive off the side of your commandeered boat into the water. You've played this prank before, and everyone else follows your lead, leaving Jiang Cheng alone and scowling on the boat. You can faintly hear him through the water: what the hell are you doing?!
You strike the bottom of the boat hard, at the right angle, and hear him shriek as it flips over and sends him into the lake with you. You laugh and laugh, before jumping up on its shell and sitting atop it like a conquering hero. "Do your eyes still hurt, Jiang Cheng? Say something, hey, hey!"
There's no response but a faint stream of bubbles where he sank. You wipe the hair out of your face, confused. "Why is he taking so long?"
Your sixth junior swims over as well, exclaiming, "Did he drown!?"
You say, "That's impossible," but you're worried enough that you're about to go down after him when he erupts from the water behind you.
It's one for one, and you both circle the boat warily now. The other disciples cheer and heckle on the sidelines, and try to splash you both.
-
[In its wake, several ghostly boys appear standing on the docks, wearing the purple robes they'd doffed in the memory. All of them are clearly dead, by sword-wound or burning or other battle injuries, and all of them are perfectly still. The only one you don't see among them is Wei Wuxian's brother.]
the cloud recesses (the gatehouse by the town gate, where a guard might normally sit)
-
You're standing on a boat, balanced and easy, with other disciples from your home sect and from Gusu Lan -- the one you're visiting. There's movement all around you: darting shadows in the water around your little pack of vessels, some of the others chasing them with nets. Someone shouts from your right side, “There are some here as well!”
On your left, another school of shadows swims past, too fast to be caught by the boat-bound pursuers. With the assurance of someone who's helped hunt underwater ghouls and ghosts in your home town since childhood, you know that something about this is unusual. You track the movements, aware, alert. "That's strange," you say. "The shape of this shadow doesn’t seem human? And it keeps shifting, long, short, large, small...Lan Zhan, beside your boat!”
Lan Zhan (or Lan Wangji, who is visibly much younger in this memory, in his mid-teens) reacts with admirable aplomb, making a sharp gesture with his fingers. The sword on his back unsheathes, and darts into the water, a bright streak of silver. A moment later it darts up again into clear air, and back into Lan Zhan's hand. Ai--all that admirable speed and he still missed!
A Lan disciple next to him foolishly imitates him. He's definitely not so skilled, though -- when his sword plunges underwater he can't retrieve it again, no matter how he tries, and his face pales as his hand-signs don't work.
An older disciple admonishes him, but you only have half an ear on it. You're watching Lan Wangji as he tries again, striking with his sword at another shadow. What a handsome figure! Truly peerless!
This time, instead of going under, his blade flicks the shadow up, like it's catching it on a hook. A wet black tangle drops to the deck of Lan Zhan's boat, and you crane over to look, but it's not the expected undead creature. It's...a mass of fabric? Discarded clothing?
This tickles you immensely, and you laugh at him across the short distance between your boats. “Lan Zhan, you’re so impressive! This is my first time seeing someone strip a water ghoul while catching them!”
-
[In the wake of the memory, a still and ghostly Lan Wangji appears just outside the gatehouse, visible through the door and windows. The back of his robe is soaked through with blood.]
the tortoise of slaughter (tied to a stall selling toy swords)
A wink of bright purple catches your eye -- a banner hanging on a stall selling toy swords. THE TORTOISE OF SLAUGHTER, it proclaims.
One very real knife lies among the play weapons in the stall, gleaming.]
-
The beast is sleeping, and this is your best chance to make it out of here alive. You swim towards the Tortoise's huge form, following the flow of the water, and slip into the enormous shell. The stench of sweet rot assualts you; you're ankle deep in some terrible mud that you can only think of as leftovers, the dregs left of the corpses that it drags in here to feed on at leisure.
Good thing that I didn’t let Lan Zhan come in here, you think. With the way he dislikes filth, wouldn’t he start throwing up the second he smelled this? Even if he didn’t, he’d definitely pass out!
The walk is disgusting -- the corpse mud grows deeper and deeper, up to your waist, and at points, grasping for handholds, your hand finds a bundle of human hair, a boot, the remains of a leg.
At long last, you follow the beast's snores to a point where you reach out and touch rough, hot flesh instead of carapace. You feel in the dark, noting where the beast's scales give way to more delicate skin, a possible weak point.
The memory fades to static for a moment, then picks up again.
The Tortoise roars, and you're trapped in its mouth as it writhes and slams its body around the lake, flung willy-nilly against its huge fangs. You hang onto the cursed sword you've thrust between its jaws for dear life, praying they don't give and let it crush you. Corpse mud churns in its jaws, almost smothering; the maddened screams of the beings in the sword resound in your ears and send cold shivering through all your limbs.
You can't let go. You can't let go. You're flung forward one last time as the Tortoise's head finally shoots forward, out of its shell, and you're aware enough to register how its roar is cut short, choking.
Lan Zhan got it, you think with pride, before the ordeal gets to be too much and your awareness fades to black.
-
[In the wake of the memory, a small ghostly long-necked turtle has appeared on the ground beside the stall, frozen mid-hiss. That's definitely a tiny version of the monster you just saw...]
the whipping boy (lotus pier main hall)
-
There's a woman -- Wang Lingjiao -- standing in your sect's main hall, dressed in a rich but tawdry way. She's smirking at your aunt, who gazes back at her with a cold, unrevealing expression. "Today," she says, "I'm representing the Wen Sect and young master Wen. I'm here to punish someone."
You feel your heart skip a beat as she points at you.
“On Dusk-Creek Mountain," she declares, "this brat made rude remarks while Young Master Wen fought the Tortoise of Slaughter, causing many disturbances. He made the master tired, so he lost his sword and nearly lost against the beast!"
Your brother laughs, hard and furious (as well he might! You and Lan Zhan fought the beast; what is this bullshit?) You're thinking fast, though. The Wen sect waited for a day Jiang Fengmian was away from the town. They timed this audacious display on purpose.
Wang Lingjiao's still spinning her tall tale. “How lucky! The Heavens blessed Young Master Wen. Even though he lost his sword, he was able to safely take down the Tortoise of Slaughter. Still, we really can’t tolerate this brat's behavior any longer! Madam Yu, please punish him harshly and make him an example for the rest of your sect!"
Jiang Cheng tries to intervene, even as you're steeling himself. "Mom..."
“Shut your mouth!” cries Madam Yu.
Wang Lingjiao's pleased by her reaction. “Wei Ying, if I remember correctly, is a servant of the Jiang Sect, isn’t he? Without Sect Leader Jiang present, I’m sure his wife would know what's best to do here. Otherwise, if the Jiang Sect insists on defending him, it’d really make people suspect...if certain rumors are true. Haha!"
Madam Yu's face darkens. Jiang Cheng rallies. “What rumors?!”
Wang Lingjiao continues to giggle. “You ask what rumors? Of course they have to do with Sect Leader Jiang's old romantic ties, no?”
Your fists clench. She can make up stories about you, but not about your family! “You…”
Pain explodes in your back, and the air wheezes out of your lungs as your knees buckle. Madam Yu winds a coil of her lightning-laced whip around her hands, mouth hard and set.
“Mom!” Jiang Cheng cries again.
“Jiang Cheng, move out of the way, or you’ll be kneeling too!”
You've got to stop this. “Jiang Cheng," you gasp, "move over! Don’t worry about me!”
Madam Yu lashes you again, gritting her words out between each crack of the whip. “I’ve said--since long ago, that you--you unruly thing! I said you would bring trouble to the Jiang Sect, sooner or later!”
You push Jiang Cheng out of the way as the blows rain down. You can't bear this, but you've got to. If the punishment doesn't satisfy Wang Lingjiao and those behind her, this threat won't go away...!
The memory blurs, something like static sizzling in your head, and then resumes on a different scene.
You're sitting in a boat by one of the docks, your back still mortally burning from the whip wounds. The edges of Lotus Pier have been set ablaze in the distance, the fire creeping in towards the Jiang compound. Madam Yu removes a silver ring--her spiritual weapon--from her finger, and slides it onto your brother's.
His face is soot-streaked, wild with alarm. “Mom, why are you giving me Zidian?”
"It's yours from now on," she says. "Zidian has already recognized you as its master.”
"What? Won’t you be leaving with us?"
Another brief, static blur.
Your aunt pushes your brother into the boat after you. He tries to leap out again after her, but lightning sparks from the ring on his hand, coalescing into a rope that binds the two of you together. You close your eyes in pain.
“Mom, what are you doing?!”
“Don’t make such a fuss. It’ll loosen up when you’re somewhere safe. If anyone attacks you on the journey, it’ll protect you as well. Don’t come back. Go to Meishan straight away and find your sister!”
-
[In the memory's wake, Madam Yu's tall, imposing figure stands on the dais. She's an unmoving ghost of the woman you saw in the memory. A vast wound has been gouged into her stomach.]
blank banner - lotus pier training ground
There's another huge pool of blood here, looking out of place -- it looks very similar to the one in the cave you started, actually. What's up with that?]
the reckoning (a food stall)
A paper tag hanging off one of them catches your attention.]
-
The Wen Sect were fools, to have taken over another sect's home. It makes it very easy to move around unseen, to send in spirits at points where they'll wreak the most havoc and create the most paranoia among the occupiers of their home. You can taste it as well as any of your attendant ghouls, even from where you hide in the forest beyond the town walls. The fear is rich, thick and heady -- the promise of a meal.
You find every ward talisman on the outer walls during the day, and slip in through doors they don't know about to get to the ones inside. It's the work of a moment to change each ward, a few strokes of your own blood making it into a tool to attract the malice of the dead rather than repelling it.
When you prowl closer and the spirits touch their nightmares that night, you can hear them screaming within the walls. You smile. That's your signal to beckon the gathering dead, and tell them to get to work.
You also tell them to get creative, in the way only vengeful ghosts can be.
It's over within the hour. There's no one to stop you as you stride through the halls of your childhood: all the people in the compound are dying, or already twisted in death, in a hundred different gruesome ways. You follow a particular set of screams that's still going strong, though: you saved this one for last.
Wang Lingjiao and Wen Chao are struggling on the ground. It's the latter who's squealing like a stuck pig, hands clasped to a spreading bloody spot between his legs. The former's gnawing on what she's bitten off him, even as tears stream down her face.
They're the only ones you take care of personally, that night. Wang Lingjiao finishes it dead. Wen Chao's bodyguard rescues him, but not before you've handed him a knife and made him cut into his own flesh, made him cram it into his own mouth and choke it down around his braying sobs. Not before you mocked him for needing it to be cooked, and made him use a heated lamp accordingly on his face. Not before you've grabbed his wrists and made him offer his hands up to one of your favorite ghosts, a furious little child who died of hunger.
Ah, revenge. You did warn them you'd come back.
-
[Three ghosts appear after that very special memory experience finishes. Wen Zhuliu, the bodyguard, has clearly been strangled, his eyes bulging and his face blue, and his head lolls on a broken neck. Wang Lingjiao's entire head is bruised and deformed, and some kind of wooden stake protrudes out of her mouth -- it's been forced down her throat. The third ghost is just fully unrecognizable as Wen Chao at this point, but his continued torture past the memory is pretty evident -- his legs have been fully flayed to the bone, the fingers of both hands are missing, and his face is raw, exposed flesh.]
the conqueror (tiger monument)
-
Your role in the final battle of the war starts small. Your undead troops defend you and the living cultivators on your side, uncomplaining meatshields. There's a few enemy cultivators in the vanguard of the Nightless City's defenses who fall in those first sallies, and you turn them against their fellows. But Wen Ruohan is wise to your tactics now, and those efforts get put down quickly.
Still. No one was prepared for what you'd do when, midway through the first night, your side breaches the outer wall. They didn't think you'd be able to reach through their wards so easily, and gain immediate access to the ancestral tombs and graveyards of the city. And maybe normally you couldn't, not so quick, not so brutally -- but you made a tool they didn't expect.
You hold up the Yin Tiger Seal. Power pulses out of it, and your sanity goes with it.
The battle took three days, you learn afterwards. You struggle to keep the dead turned only on killing your enemies, but that restriction makes less and less sense to you by the time you hit the shrouded sunrise of the second morning. You're pulling in vast quantities of resentful energy now, gathering it into yourself to push the Seal's range out farther and farther. Somewhere in there you stop having to grit your teeth to do it and it gets gleefully easy again.
For the first two days, you're laughing on the battlefield as your dead tear through, genuine joy as you see them fall on the enemy lines and break them. Every fire on the field is rotten green with resentful energy, and the terror of your allies is only outweighed by their desperation.
But the third day dawns, and everyone is flagging, and the Nightless City has not yet fallen. You're steeped so deeply in demonic cultivation by then that you hiss openly at the sunlight. You no longer feel human yourself. You feel hollow, your bones sucked dry of marrow and your blood replaced by screams and grudges. You stop trying to filter through the individual spirits' wants to direct them, and simply press down hard on their rage, driving them with it like a whip. Part of you goes with them, every time.
The Tiger Seal only goes quiescent again, when every enemy on the battlefield is dead. It's taken all your effort to ensure it is only every enemy, and not everyone.
When its power drains out of you, you believe yourself a corpse. You collapse into a pile of your fellow corpses, and stay there.
-
[...in the wake of that memory, once you've recovered from it a little, you may notice the ghostly figure of a large, scary looking guy in a slumping sit against the side of the monument. You can see the figure of the tiger and its assailants through him. He's completely unmoving.]
the hunt (temple)
When you step inside, it's lit by a few other candles, creating an eerie effect around the central statue. The god the statue portrays isn't any you recognize, some black and eldritch crossover between an octopus and a serpent, but the gold koi charm dangling from one of its tentacles winks even in the scant light.]
-
Your mouth is still tingling from the mysterious stanger's stolen kiss, and Lan Wangji looks absolutely indignant at being dragged into the shrubbery with you, but your attention's on neither of those things. They're on your sister and her former fiance, Jin Zixuan, who have just come into sight on the mountain path. She's as demure as ever, clearly upset; he's as arrogant in demeanor as ever.
I just knew Madam Jin would get them to take a stroll together, you fume.
"What quarrel do you have with Jin Zixuan?" Lan Wangji asks quietly. He's calmed down too, noticing your distraction.
Because he's an asshole? Because he's ignored or scorned his childhood betrothed at every turn? Because he thinks he's too good for everyone? Because he accused your sister of tricking him and made her cry, for trying to secretly bring him food and take care of him in her way, during the war? Heavens, you hate his stupid face. You don't regret punching it when you were younger, even if it did get you punished and sent home from Lan Zhan's sect. You don't regret punching it AGAIN when he tried to humiliate her in public for her kindness. Prick.
On the other side of the clearing, he's found a dead monster and he's giving her inane facts about it -- even as a low-level cultivator she knows what a Mesuring Snake does, does he think she's uneducated too? She's clearly confused at being dragged out here and lectured. Your sister's really too polite for her own good, sometimes.
"...If you come to our clan's hunting grounds, you can see a lot of rare monsters," he's telling her. "If you're free sometime next month, I can take you."
Who the hell wants to go to his clan's hunting grounds!?
"Many thanks for your invitation, but there's no need to go to such trouble," your sister answers quietly, as though she heard you.
Jin Zixuan's taken aback. "Why? You don't like watching hunts? Then why did you come to this one? Wait...do you not like them, or do you not like being with me?"
"It's not that..."
"Fine," he sneers.
Your sister's staring at the ground. You can see the upset set of her shoulders. "I'm sorry."
"What're you sorry for? Think what you will. Either way, it wasn't me who wanted to invite you. So if you don't want to come, then forget about it."
Your sister's mouth quivers. "Please excuse me," she says, and turns to go.
The memory skips, blurs into static, and then resumes. A bit of time must have passed, because there's suddenly a lot more people in the clearing, most of them dressed in the same gold style of robes as Jin Zixuan.
You're turning to head back to the observation stands with your sister, when Jin Zixuan shouts, "Miss Jiang!"
You try to pull her away faster. "Let's go, quickly."
But he's insistent. "That's not it, Miss Jiang!"
He's being so loud you have to turn and acknowledge him, and everyone else is staring in your direction. The awkwardness in the air is thick enough to cut, and it only increases as he rushes up and shouts again:
"That wasn't it! It's not my mother -- I didn't invite you because of her! I'm not reluctant to be with you, not at all! It's me! It was all me! I was the one who wanted you to come!"
"...," everyone says.
He flushes so hard it looks like his head's going to pop off and staggers back a few steps to steady himself on a nearby tree. He looks up, then freezes at all the eyes on him. With a last, wordless shout, he bolts off into the woods.
There's silence in the clearing for a moment, and then his mother screams in outrage.
"You bonehead! What are you running away for! A-Li, let's talk back at the observation deck! I need to go catch him first!"
After witnessing this farce, you don't know whether to laugh or cry.
-
[The unmoving ghost of Jin Zixuan appears, kneeling in front of the strange god's statue. There's a look of shock on his face, and a ragged hole punched straight through his chest.]
the breach (inn)
-
You're frozen on your bed, unable to move a muscle after Wen Qing stabbed you in your acupoints. "We've come to a conclusion," she says.
Her undead brother rises to his feet -- he'd been ready to hold you down, in case his sister's paralysis didn't take at once, you realize. "Sister and I have decided. We’ll be going to Koi Tower to give ourselves up.”
“Give yourselves up?” Shock joins your fear. They can't-- “What are you going to do? Apologize? Surrender?”
Wen Qing rubs her reddening eyes, but her expression is calm. “Yes, more or less. The Jin sect wants an answer for the death of their heir. The only acceptable one is to hand over the two leaders of our sect's remnants -- us. That should settle matters."
“You can shut the fuck up! It’s already chaos as it is! Both of you stop adding trouble to the pile. Give yourselves up, my ass. Did I tell you to do this? Take it out!”
She's watching you struggle, calmly answering your protests with logic, as your rage and fear gives way to something hollow and cold. They can't do this. They can't pay for your mistake like this.
At last, she says, “That’s right. They didn’t ask you for proof you were the one who did it. They straight-up prepared to kill you. Do you understand now? They don’t need any proof, and they don't need you to find the truth. Whether you present those or not, it doesn't matter. You’re the Yiling Patriarch, the Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation. You specialize in dark curses, so it wouldn’t even be strange if you didn’t have curse marks on you. On top of that, you didn’t have to do it yourself. You could’ve gotten Wen-dogs, your slaves, to do it for you. It’s you no matter what. You won’t be able to deny it.”
You curse, try to rise again, to pull out the needle, to do anything, anything. They wait once more.
“But, but--” But you have no excuse to follow that with; no good reasoning to counter Wen Qing's merciless logic. You settle for, “But even then, I should be the one going, not you. I was the one who made corpses kill the people, who lost control of Wen Ning. Why should the knife go instead of the murderer?”
“Isn’t it better this way?”
“Better than what?!”
She is so calm. “Wei Ying, we both know. Wen Ning is a knife, a knife that scares them, but also a knife that they use as an excuse to attack you. If we go, they’ll no longer have an excuse. This entire thing might finally blow over.”
You finally understand why your brother acts the way he does, why he always says that you have a hero complex, why he always looks like he's restraining himself from striking you. Watching others take the responsibility onto their shoulders no matter what, insisting on bearing all of the negative consequences, to be unable to stop them--it's unbearable! Detestable!
Once you run out of arguments, Wen Qing looks soberly into your face, then reaches out and flicks her finger against your forehead. “I’ve said what I had to say, explained things, and said farewell. Goodbye.”
“No…”
“I’ve never really said such things to you before. But now that it’s come to this, there are indeed things I should say before I lose the chance."
“...shut up...let me go..."
“I’m sorry. And, thank you.”
You will lie paralyzed for the next three days, as they go to their doom.
-
[A ghostly Wen Qing appears once the memory is over, standing in the inn doorway and unperturbed by the monster traffic going through her. There's a clean red line cut all around her neck, blood spilling down to dye the white part of her robes red.]
the meeting of the ways (teahouse)
There is one empty table, with a large white bowl of steaming soup upon it. It doesn't match the rest of the dishware you see at all.]
-
You're shopping in Yiling for food and supplies, when you glimpse a flash of violet under a concealing cloak. You make your excuses to the seller and follow the figure to an enclosed courtyard. Your heart is hammering. Wen Ning trails behind you, undead and unsure and quiet.
Jiang Cheng lifts his hood and tells Wen Ning to leave. You'd protest, but your attention's caught by the woman in the yard. Even through the cloak and the veil on her bamboo hat, you'd know her anywhere.
"Shijie," you say. Sister.
She lets the disguise slide loose, revealing what's underneath: her wedding robes, brilliant red and embroidered with koi and lotus and peonies. The knot in your chest tightens.
You approach, still feeling cautious. You haven't seen her since you parted ways with the Jiang sect. “Shijie, you’re...?”
“What? You think she’s marrying you?” Jiang Cheng snaps.
“You can shut up,” you huff.
Jiang Yanli spreads out her arms, shows the robes in all their splendour, full-sleeved and gold-stitched. She's so beautiful. “A-Xian, I’ll be married soon. I came for you to see...but I'm the only one who's here. You won't be able to see the groom.”
It's a long way to Yiling, and it isn't safe for a sect leader and his sister to travel here so far, to associate with you. They didn't have to do this. It touches your heart; you're able to muster up a wry smile.
“It’s not like I want to look at some groom.”
(You do. You desperately want to see the ceremony. You've never liked Jin Zixuan, and you'll break his legs and send a thousand ghosts after him if he makes your sister cry again, but right now she's glowing with happiness at the prospect of marrying the man. You want to see what puts that expression on her face.)
You praise the wedding dress with your brother. She laughs it off gently, and blushes when Jiang Cheng says, “You don’t believe me and you don’t believe him. Is it that you’ll only believe it when a certain somebody says so?”
She asks you to name her future son. Jin Rulan, you say, thinking briefly of Lan Wangji. Jiang Cheng bickers with you over it (why should their son be named for the Lans, when they have no role in this marriage), but Jiang Yanli, ever the peacemaker, interrupts with the promise of soup for you both. She even offers some to Wen Ning; he takes it shyly and thanks her, even though he can't eat.
She talks with him for a while, quietly. You and your brother are left to yourselves for a moment, and he lifts his soup bowl in a mocking toast. "To the Yiling Patriarch," he says.
You nearly splutter. Who came up with that awful title for you, anyway? “Shut up!”
He does, for about ten seconds. Then, “How’s your wound from last time?”
You shrug. “It healed a long time ago.”
“Mn.” A pause. “How many days?”
Do you have to go over this? “Less than seven. I told you before. With Wen Qing around to treat me, it wasn't anything difficult to deal with. But you really did fucking stab me.”
Jiang Cheng eats a slice of lotus root. “You were the one who smashed my arm first. You took seven days? I had it in a sling for an entire month.”
You snort. “If I didn't hit it hard enough, it wouldn't have been realistic, would it? It was your left hand anyway. It didn’t hinder you from writing, even if it took three months to heal."
There's another little silence. The soup is delicious, your sister's and Wen Ning's voices soft in the background, and for a moment, there's an illusion of normalcy and peace.
“You’ll stay like this from now on?" Jiang Cheng asks, breaking it. "Got any plans?”
If only. “Not at the moment. None of the group dares go down the mountain. People don’t dare do anything to me when I go down the mountain either. It’ll be fine as long as I don’t stir up trouble on my own.”
“On your own?” Jiang Cheng sneers. “Wei Wuxian, do you believe that even if you don’t stir up trouble on your own, trouble won’t come and find you? It’s often impossible to save someone, but there are thousands of ways to harm someone.”
You shrug. “A man with strength can defeat ten men with skill. I don’t care if they have thousands of ways. I’ll kill whoever comes.”
Your brother's tone cools. “You never listen to any of my opinions. One day, you’ll come to understand that I’m the one who’s right.”
-
[As the memory ends, the ghost of Jiang Yanli appears in the seat across from you. She's in neat grey robes instead of the red wedding finery, but they've been ruined by the swordwound through her body and by the vicious slashes across her back from some monster or beast. She looks at you sadly, and does not move.]
the great mistake (a collapsed building)
Someone's playfully stuck a spear in the heap, with a red banner flapping from the top of the shaft. THE GREAT MISTAKE, it proclaims for the world to see.]
-
It's all over. You watch, with your hands folded into your sleeves and your thoughts dulled and red, as Granny and A-Yuan play their game of hide-and-seek, slowly in deference to Granny's arthritic knees. There are few places in the Burial Mounds where a child can play freely, safely, properly. You and the Wens contrive to do your best. A-Yuan is sensitive enough to have caught some of the atmosphere of fear and despairing terror that pervades their little home, but they do their best to distract him, to continue on with him as though life is still the semblance of normalcy it had reached just a few months ago. Why hurt him more? he's already condemned to death, just like the rest of them.
You don't have to ward the little hill with its copse of scraggling trees. You're stretching yourself thinner and scraping yourself rawer by the day, trying to build your wards strong enough to withstand the inevitable invasion, trying still to keep them all safe, trying to find a way out for the Wens if not yourself, trying, trying, trying. You should not be sparing strength for this sentimentality. You do it anyway.
Your sister would have appreciated it. In some other world, her son and A-Yuan could be playmates. Some other world, where you hadn't killed her and her husband, and doomed the people under your care.
Granny meets your eyes for a moment, while she makes the rounds of the trees, and you both try to smile at each other and fail before just nodding. A-Yuan is laughing, the only laughter that's been heard in the Burial Mounds these last days: ah, to be a child again, with any trust that the adults will make it right for you.
You are going to die. They are all going to die. You welcome it for yourself at this point, not so deep down. But perhaps--
-
[In the wake of the memory, several dozen individuals appear perched and frozen upon the house timbers, a couple of them in ragged white robes with red flame motifs, the rest wearing threadbare homespun. All of them are elderly, and all of them appear to have been violently killed. Only the little child A-Yuan is missing.]
???
If you go there, it's just an ordinary-looking town square, with white chrysanthemums planted around the borders.
There's another huge pool of blood that takes up most of the square, very similar to the one in the cave where you started out. What's this doing here?]
FURTHER FLIPPING
The eleventh page contains a sketch in black ink of Zhewei-xiansheng, the little bunny creature the Suggestion Box turned into.
The twelfth page contains a portrait of the Warden. FATHER has been written under it in angry, slashing strokes, in blood instead of ink.]
PARTING GIFTS
YANLI: the gold koi charm, attached to a paper tag that says 'i promise'
DREAM: a cool lil silver necklace with a snarling tiger head pendant
ACE: a cool lil silver necklace with a sword pendant
SATURN: a carved fierce wooden turtle he finds in his pocket (so that's where it went!)
GETO: a pair of Gojo's eyeballs in a little cloth bag. they don't rot
GOJO: a pair of Gojo's eyeballs which are still in his pocket. they don't rot
KAEYA: an edgy-looking centipede chain bracelet in a dark silvery metal
LAN WANGJI: the sparkly rock he stole, gives exactly 1 share of the stupid jin zixuan memory to someone else if they touch it