Chapter Text
The white light returned. None of them spoke. When it faded, they found themselves back in the same building. The same silk curtains, lanterns, and suffocating scent of incense. The moment the room appeared, the flame in Lang Qianqiu's hands began to shake violently. Lang Qianqiu's stomach sank. He already knew. This was the last memory. And somehow, he knew it would be the worst. The memory-Qi Rong sat rigidly on the edge of a bed. His face was expressionless. As though every feeling had already been scraped out of him. He wasn’t clothed, they were discarded on the floor. The door opened. Immediately, terror flooded through all of them. Lang Qianqiu nearly staggered. The emotion wasn't sudden panic. It was anticipation. The certainty that something terrible was about to happen. Again.
"No..." Xie Lian whispered. A man entered and Qi Rong's shoulders tensed. His hands clenched into fists. The room seemed to darken around them. Lang Qianqiu looked down at the little green flame trembling in his palms. Without thinking, he folded his hands around it. "It’s okay." The flame flickered. The man approached Qi Rong and he reached his hands out for him. The fear grew. And grew. And grew. Until it became unbearable. Leave. Please leave. Go away. Just go away. The thoughts repeated endlessly. The man grabbed Qi Rong by the shoulders and leaned closer. And suddenly the fear vanished. Not because Qi Rong felt safe. Because something inside him snapped.
A flash of desperate defiance. As the man brought his lips to Qi Rong’s, he bit down. The man grunted and raised his hand to slap Qi Rong. Qi Rong didn’t flinch. He bit down harder, his teeth tearing through the flesh. The man let out a muffled scream and he kneed Qi Rong in the gut. For a brief, fleeting moment, triumph surged through him. A vicious, desperate satisfaction. A sadistic pleasure as he ripped off a chunk of the man’s face. The man stumbled away from Qi Rong in fear. You hurt me. Now I hurt you.
The feeling didn't last. The man pulled a knife out of his coat pocket and in a swift motion slit Qi Rong’s throat. Lang Qianqiu could practically feel the bite and sting of metal. The man slugged away, cursing. The door slammed shut behind him. And Qi Rong was alone. For several long moments, he didn't move. The room spun around him. One hand drifted to his throat. When he pulled it away, he stared at it blankly. As though he didn't entirely understand what he was seeing. Or perhaps he simply didn't care anymore. Slowly, painfully, he pushed himself upright. His legs nearly gave out. He caught himself on the wall. One step. Then another.
The emotions washing through the memory were almost impossible to endure. Not fear or pain. Hatred. Pure hatred. I hate this place. I hate these people. I hate Yong'an. I hate heaven. I hate everyone. The thoughts echoed through Lang Qianqiu's mind, each one sharper than the last. Qi Rong crumpled forward, his hand dragging along the wall to keep himself standing. His vision blurred. His breathing felt wrong. A familiar face surfaced in his thoughts. Xie Lian. The hatred sharpened instantly. You were supposed to save everyone. You were supposed to save Xianle. You were supposed to save me. The accusation struck harder than any scream. Not because it was rational. Because it was the cry of a child who had run out of people to blame. Qi Rong reached an abandoned robe. It was dirty and ripped.
With shaking hands, he wrapped it around himself. Only then did he slide down the wall. The stone floor was cold beneath him. His eyelids felt heavy. So heavy. The corridor swayed. He stared at the ceiling. And for the first time, fear returned. A small, frightened thought. Is this how I'm going to die? Alone, forgotten, and violated. Like this? With nothing but a thin robe to cover my corpse? I’m going to rot in this stone room, or maybe they’ll use my body in death the same they did in my life. The thought lingered. Then faded. Because something else was stronger. Hatred. Hatred burned hotter than fear. Hotter than pain.
If I live… The thought came slowly. If I live… I'll make them pay. The Yong'ans. The heavens. Xie Lian. Anyone who ever hurt me. Anyone who ever abandoned me. Anyone who ever looked away. Anyone who doesn’t care. Who treats me like trash. I'll make them all pay. The vow echoed through the memory. Again. And again. And again. Until it became the only thing left.