[It is incredibly patchy and filled with blackout spaces, but he will get at least the gist of this:
Wen Qing thrusts the drugged cloth into Jiang Cheng's face. He and Wen Ning hurry forward to help catch him as he topples forward, a dead weight. They hustle him into the cave, settling him as comfortably as possible. Wen Qing gestures sharply to Wei Wuxian, and he nods, getting down and lying flat on his back next to his brother. He tries not to shiver; the cave is cool, with his torso bared to the air.
In any other circumstance, he'd be talking, but he and Wen Ning need to be quiet in case Jiang Cheng isn't drugged so strongly as they thought. In any other circumstance, he'd be eagerly watching Wen Qing's preparations -- this is a new procedure, after all, it's still damned interesting no matter how you slice it -- but her needles hit his pressure points, spreading numbness through him.
"We've got a little time," she says, low. "I'll see if we can't do it with you unconscious, first."
He smiles at her.
...
She can't do it with him unconscious. She tries to make it quick, instead, but finds she can't do that either, for fear of destroying what she's removing from his lower belly to give to his brother instead. Wen Ning holds him down once Wen Qing takes out the needles keeping him still and sedated.
He loses track of everything but the pain, bright and singing agony like nothing he's ever known, and the feeling of cold trickling up from the tips of his extremities and up his limbs, slowly pooling in his chest as Wen Qing concentrates all his spiritual energy in his core. All the power he's built up since he was a beginning disciple, the pride of a cultivator, is taken; the flow of energy in his body slowly smooths into a dead, stagnant pool. The light pressing against his open eyes brightens once, darkens once.
Is he dying, after all? It feels like it. He doesn't regret it, but he is afraid.]
no subject
Wen Qing thrusts the drugged cloth into Jiang Cheng's face. He and Wen Ning hurry forward to help catch him as he topples forward, a dead weight. They hustle him into the cave, settling him as comfortably as possible. Wen Qing gestures sharply to Wei Wuxian, and he nods, getting down and lying flat on his back next to his brother. He tries not to shiver; the cave is cool, with his torso bared to the air.
In any other circumstance, he'd be talking, but he and Wen Ning need to be quiet in case Jiang Cheng isn't drugged so strongly as they thought. In any other circumstance, he'd be eagerly watching Wen Qing's preparations -- this is a new procedure, after all, it's still damned interesting no matter how you slice it -- but her needles hit his pressure points, spreading numbness through him.
"We've got a little time," she says, low. "I'll see if we can't do it with you unconscious, first."
He smiles at her.
...
She can't do it with him unconscious. She tries to make it quick, instead, but finds she can't do that either, for fear of destroying what she's removing from his lower belly to give to his brother instead. Wen Ning holds him down once Wen Qing takes out the needles keeping him still and sedated.
He loses track of everything but the pain, bright and singing agony like nothing he's ever known, and the feeling of cold trickling up from the tips of his extremities and up his limbs, slowly pooling in his chest as Wen Qing concentrates all his spiritual energy in his core. All the power he's built up since he was a beginning disciple, the pride of a cultivator, is taken; the flow of energy in his body slowly smooths into a dead, stagnant pool. The light pressing against his open eyes brightens once, darkens once.
Is he dying, after all? It feels like it. He doesn't regret it, but he is afraid.]