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When the Burial Mounds were besieged, Wei Wuxian knew deep down it was only a matter of time before he met the end of his life. And after all the anguish and anger, all the bloodsoaked land and broken ties, he was ready for some rest. Amidst all the chaos and after one last look at his brother, he let himself be taken by death’s cold arms. He let his soul be carried from his world.
...
It felt like he had just closed his eyes for the final time before his body was suddenly and rudely jarred back to life.
“What the—!”
Wei Wuxian did not experience the sensation of falling but he landed solidly on his feet, cutting off an old man’s shout. When he opened his eyes, the figure before him effectively disintegrated with an agonized scream, leaving nothing but residual qi in the air.
“Fuck.”
A cursory glance of his surroundings revealed that Wei Wuxian stood in the center of a blood array, painted in a dilapidated shed. The one who must have spoken was a lanky teen wielding a knife and standing defensively in the corner closest to the only exit. A closer look showed how pale he was, even in the low evening light seeping through the cracks in the walls. Minute shivers didn’t escape his eyes either. It wasn’t hard to guess that the array was composed mainly, if not entirely, out of the kid’s blood.
He raised his hands up and casually called out, “And who might you be?”
The only response he received was an icy glare.
Wei Wuxian hummed. “Can you at least tell me where I am? Or what I’m doing here?”
More silence.
But just when it looked like the boy would finally speak, Wei Wuxian watched as the look in his eyes grew hazy and his body began to sway. He let out a curse and leapt forward to catch the boy as he passed out from blood loss.
“Aiyah,” Wei Wuxian sighed. He set the boy down gently on the floor. “I guess I’ll have to wait for those answers.” He spent the rest of the evening tending to the boy and ensuring he wasn’t actively bleeding beyond what was used for the array. If he still had a golden core, he could have fed some spiritual energy to speed up the recovery but, well. That wasn’t exactly an option for the foreseeable future. Or forever.
Shaking such thoughts from his head, Wei Wuxian finally got around to examining the rest of the shed and the surrounding forest.
Two traveling packs leaned against the outside of the shed, one for the boy and one presumably for the sacrificial old man. The former was filled with a set of robes, medical supplies, stores of food and a couple cultivation manuals. A quick perusal of the books had Wei Wuxian frowning. They were proclaimed to be published by some sect called Huan Hua Palace, but it was more than likely a scam. Following the regimens dictated by these books would only lead to bodily and spiritual harm.
The second pack was much larger than the first. It was filled to the brim with shoddy trinkets, way more food, some clothes and a pouch of money. As he reached the bottom of the bag, he pulled out notes on questionable cultivation practices before his fingers brushed against something solid that made him freeze.
This feeling… It couldn’t be—!
But it was.
The last item in the bag was a dizi made of ink black bamboo adorning a red tassel and engraved with the name Chenqing.
As soon as Wei Wuxian grabbed hold of it, the spirit of the dizi latched onto his soul like a favorite cloak falling into its rightful place. He gave a wry smile. As much horror and heartache as he experienced since creating this flute, it was still a comfort to have it in his hands once more. He had no idea where or when he was, and Chenqing was something familiar to ground him. Only, this brought more and more questions than answers about his predicament.
After shamelessly rifling through the boy’s and deceased man’s belongings (and claiming certain items for himself), he settled himself back inside the shed, sitting against the wall next to the boy. He rested Chenqing on his lap and considered playing some healing songs he knew from Gusu. It wouldn’t work very well with only resentful energy at his disposal but he has worked with this power for a handful of years now. And with his mind finally clear of the cloying power of the Yin Tiger Tally, he could sit in silence if he so chose. But even before his whole world went to shit his thoughts could never be still and obedient.
He brought Chenqing to his lips and began to play Calming but didn’t infuse any power to it yet. He simply…needed a distraction from his memories. Memories of a certain pair of Wen siblings. Memories of his own once-siblings. Memories of the people he once believed could be his family forever.
And so, Wei Wuxian passed the night away like that, playing songs with resentful energy—but not resentment—that wouldn’t further break his heart but could maybe mend another’s body.
When the first rays of the rising sun broke through the cracked walls, the boy finally opened his eyes.
The final weeks of his life passed in a blur.
Shen Qingqiu knew his end was coming from the moment the shards of Xuan Su were tossed in front of him.
He spent his wretched life thinking he could defy his fate, but he only went from disgusting orphan slave to disdainful immortal cultivator to despicable scum villain. The world truly knew no pity.
But it at least gave him one thing.
As his life faded away and his soul prepared to leave this world, the last image granted to him was of fury and desperation and inevitable defeat on the face of his last disciple.
Shen Qingqiu gave a wry smile as his vision darkened for the last time.
It was a little juvenile, but he finally got one over the foolish boy.
...
But clearly the universe had the last laugh.
It was as if he blinked his life force and missing parts back into existence. Shen Jiu shot up from where he was lying and looked at his fully intact body with wonder. Further examination told him there were the beginning roots of spiritual energy within. Was he a teenager again? The dilapidated shed he woke up in was vaguely familiar from his days with Wu Yanzi. Heavens above, was that horrible man somewhere nearby?
“Glad to see you’re awake.”
Shen Jiu turned his head, expecting to see his old charlatan of a teacher. Instead he was met with a young man, a red ribbon in his hair and a bright smile on his lips. A bamboo dizi was tucked in his belt, but no sword. He didn’t look all that strong either, but Shen Jiu knew that was hardly a reliable indication of true power.
“Who the fuck are you?”
The man didn’t seem put off by the rude tone. He simply gave a gentler smile.
“This one is Wei Ying, courtesy name Wuxian. Do you not remember how I came to be here?”
Shen Jiu didn’t answer.
The man sighed. “That’s alright. I’ll explain what I was able to figure out. But first,” he grimaced, “do you at least remember the older man you were with?”
At this, Shen Jiu nodded.
“Is he someone important to you?”
“A traveling companion. Nothing more.”
“I see. In that case, I’ll speak candidly. I was summoned here through a sacrificial blood ritual meant to bind me and my power to another. The caster of the spell was that man but the array was drawn completely with your blood. Additionally, certain components of the array were slightly incorrect, resulting in the death of your companion.”
Wei Wuxian paused, as if to give Shen Jiu a moment to react. He didn’t, as Wu Yanzi was already a figure of his past.
“That is, you were meant to be the sacrifice. Instead, the ritual took his life and the blood array bound us together.”
Shen Jiu’s eyes narrowed. “Bound us ?”
Wei Wuxian turned sheepish. “That’s right. The binding is equal to both parties. We technically now share the same blood— your blood—as though we are brothers.”
“Brothers,” Shen Jiu parroted, face going blank.
Lowering his eyes, Wei Wuxian gave a subdued, “Yes.”
He was given a new life barely moments ago, yet Shen Jiu was already thrown into unimaginable nonsense. Brothers? He scoffed.
If it was anything like having martial brothers who looked for any excuse to turn their backs on you, then he had no care for it. And this was a man he knew nothing about beyond his name! But…
Shen Jiu looked on as resigned acceptance passed over said man’s face.
Wei Wuxian didn’t even know that much about Shen Jiu himself. And yet he seemed so eager for a connection with a stranger. Not only that, but Shen Jiu had never met such a person in his previous life. Something larger must be at work and the gods of destiny are sure to be cackling down at them.
Fine then. Shen Jiu will play along until he can reveal it for the farce that it is.
“If we’re to be brothers you might as well know my name. This one is Shen Jiu.”
Wei Wuxian looked back up in surprise. Then he chuckled. “You don’t have to go that far just because I used it as an example, Shen Jiu. We just met. I could be the greatest scourge in the world, for all you know.”
Devastated Furious red eyes flashed through Shen Jiu’s mind.
“I doubt it.”
Wei Wuxian grinned. “If you insist. Then I’ll have to insist you call me Xian-ge. An older brother deserves some modicum of respect, right, Didi?”
“No.”
“Ah! My little brother is so cold-hearted!”
As the supposed elder of the two threw a fake tantrum in the confines of the little shed, Shen Jiu wondered if the gods above were laughing and if so, if they would choke and die from it.
Meanwhile, miles away a wooden basin could be seen floating along an icy river. With it came the shrieking cries of a newborn baby boy.
The basin will continue to follow the river for some days, the infant helpless to the whims of the currents. What else could he do?
He won’t worry though. He knows he’ll eventually end up on the streets of some village. He knows he’ll encounter a kind washerwoman who will accept him as her own. He knows he’ll one day lose her and begin his journey of loneliness and hardship. He knows he’ll crush the whole world under his heel and never be beaten down again.
Unless he decides there’s something else he’d rather do. After all, there’s a man who escaped him once. Death was a clever trick but evidently not one that works forever.
Luo Binghe will find his dear shizun and never let him slip through his hold again.
But for now, he’ll focus on keeping warm as the river carries its namesake to the start of his new story.