Chapter Text
The neat thing about clones, Wuxiang learns as she travels towards the Burial Mounds nonstop, is that she still has full, unrestrained access to the powers of the original body. This meant that she could travel in their crow form as well as disguise her natural ghostly presence as that of an actual crow. The distance between Qinghe and Yiling was no problem either. Ghosts need neither rest nor sustenance. Wuxiang was able to travel straight to Yiling nonstop, eliminating much of the usual travel time between the two locations.
As Wuxiang soars through the sky in her crow form, she recalls memories of those days when she was still able to wield Suibian and fly. There is such a unique joy to be found in flight that Wuxiang could not find anywhere else and it was one of the many things that she had to give up for the path that she chose. Her crow form is truly one of the greatest gifts from beyond the grave. Now, she chooses to travel by flight whenever possible.
Wuxiang’s train of thought is broken when brilliant, brilliant red starts to take over the horizon. The Burial Mounds truly is no more, or at least half of it is. The other half of the mountain was now flattened and, incredibly, brimming with bright red blooms. From the sky, it looked like the remaining half of the mountain was bleeding red. The flowers covered halfway up the mountain all the way to where Wuxiang could remember her old borders.
Did her second death actually do all of that…?
There is one spot of land that breaks the endless sea of red right at the foot of the mountain. From high above, Wuxiang could see that it is a small settlement not unlike the one she and the Wens had back in the day. But unlike before, the houses looked to be much bigger, sturdier, and neater than their old ones. There were even fields thriving with crops off to the side. Their inhabitants could be seen carrying out their tasks for the day. The little settlement seemed to be brimming with life, if one wasn’t aware that each and every single one of them were ghosts.
Speaking of ghosts, Wuxiang could spot a familiar couple among the red flowers just a short distance away from the settlement. Wuxiang has learned her lesson from last time and starts her descent. She should greet her seniors first after all!
The first thing Hua Cheng says to Wuxiang when he sees her and learns her name is…
“Absolutely not.”
Wuxiang is just a little bit confused. She tries to look for an explanation from at least Xie Lian, but the god looks content letting Hua Cheng take the reins of whatever is happening. “What do you mean?”
“Change your name.”
Wuxiang thinks he’s joking. But then she looks closer and the Ghost King looks quite serious with his demand. “Alright, fine. Does Hua Chengzhu have any suggestions?”
Hua Cheng blinks at her easy compliance, as if he was expecting her to argue for a time. He recovers quickly and puts back his usual Hua Chengzhu image. “Anything that doesn’t sound like Wuxiang. Or Qi Rong.”
The disgust that colours Hua Cheng’s face and voice when he says those names is very palpable and very funny out of context, but Wuxiang gets the feeling that there is a deeper story behind it. Xie Lian isn’t looking too enthusiastic at the mention of those names too, so it must have been pretty bad.
Wuxiang thinks. She wants to ruminate on the renaming for a long while. She knows she’s sort of a perfectionist when it comes to naming things, the type to scour all the poetry books she knows to pick the most meaningful name she could think of.
“Wu Shengya?”
“You are anything but silent.” Hua Cheng retorts, which is, um, rude. She can be very silent when she wants to!
“But I am dead.”
Hua Cheng looks like he wants to smack her upside the head but he refrains from doing so at the last minute. “Good enough. Welcome back to the Burial Mounds, Wu Shengya. Or the Bleeding Meadows, as the townsfolk like to call it these days.”
Wu Shengya’s gaze drifts to the red blooms all around them. “I suppose it’s the Bleeding Meadows for all the red spider lilies, isn’t it?”
“Oh, partly. Your ghost jiejies seem pretty content to take the name literally.”
His ghost jiejies have truly been busy during the time she was away at Mount Tonglu. According to Xie Lian, Wu Shengya’s ghost jiejies have established themselves as the Bleeding Meadows’ own guardians. While they didn’t outright kill anyone who just happened to wander too close to the settlement, they did take great joy in tearing apart anyone who actively posed a danger to them.
Wu Shengya is so proud!
Xie Lian fills her in on the general happenings of the settlement in the years that Wu Shengya has been gone. They weren’t able to talk about it in length back when she first emerged from Mount Tonglu. What Wu Shengya knows so far is that the couple had been instrumental in the building of the Wen ghosts’ new home and she couldn’t be more thankful.
Before Wu Shengya’s departure to Mount Tonglu, the land had been barren and battle-torn and the Wen ghosts still looked as they were when they died. Now, the settlement looks more like a proper village than ever before. The houses look sturdy, well-built, and comfortable. There are traces of human (or ghost?) activity all around in the form of freshly-done laundry, wheelbarrows filled with either produce or tools, and the sounds of people milling about.
Between Xie Lian and Hua Cheng, Xie Lian was more physically involved with the settlement itself. The god had visited frequently and helped with all manner of tasks. Hua Cheng, on the other hand, was the one to provide materials and supplies. The only time the ghost king lifted a finger was when Xie Lian explicitly asked him to.
“The atmosphere reminds me of my own Puqi Shrine,” Xie Lian confesses to her. “And it never hurts to have an additional hand to help around.”
And it seems both of them have been pretty much adopted into the fold of the Wen ghosts. Wu Shengya can see it in the easy way the ghosts refer to them as ‘A-Lian’ and ‘Xiao Hua’, in how the couple navigate around town like it’s their own Ghost City, and the way everyone seems insistent on handing the two all kinds of food and things.
The little village loves them, and they love them back. That warms Wu Shengya’s heart more than anything.
It was like Wu Shengya had been transported back to those scant few days of peace. Distantly, she can hear Si-shu arguing with someone over the nuances of brewing fruit wine. She can see traces of Aunt Lu’s style of embroidery on a lot of the clothing. And was that Granny’s cooking she could smell in the air?
Everything around her is just so… alive. It’s so ironic that they finally achieved what they really wanted once they were dead.
Would A-Yuan have liked it here?
“Wei… gongzi?”
Ah, looks like she’s finally been noticed! It took them a little bit of time though. Maybe her disguise is pretty good after all.
Wu Shengya turns to see none other than Si-shu who seemed to have been dragged away from his previous argument. He definitely looks a lot better than the last time Wu Shengya saw him. Gone are the tattered Wen Sect robes. Instead, Si-shu is garbed in comfortable, modest robes in muted colours, with a bit of embroidery by Aunt Lu around the hems. He looks much, much healthier as well. Maybe even healthier back when he was still alive and breathing.
Si-shu’s recognition of her starts a domino effect and eventually all the ghosts in the vicinity have gathered around Wu Shengya. Their curious and excited chatter fills the air and Wu Shengya has never felt more at home before.
“A-Xian?”
“Xiao Ying is back?”
“A-Xian looks a little different, don’t you think?”
Wu Shengya resists the urge to cry like a little baby and instead gifts them all with her brightest grin, “It’s me! I had to go away for a while for this makeover. What do you all think?”
The chatter increases in volume. From the corner of Wu Shengya’s eyes, she can see Hua Cheng and Xie Lian stepping away to engage in conversation with who she assumes are new ghosts.
Huh, since when were there new faces here?
She isn’t given any time to ruminate on that because Granny Wen had gently taken her face between her calloused hands to closely examine her. Wu Shenya had to bend down awkwardly to make up for the height difference but she let Granny do her thing. The old woman clicks her tongue in disapproval.
“Aiyah, have you not been eating properly again, A-Xian?” Granny Wen tuts. “Come, come. You can talk business with A-Shou, Xinxin, and Yan’er while we get some food for you.”
The other ghosts join in the fussing as well. A lot of them are pretty well-acquainted with Wu Shengya’s odd little habits so they each have their own way of bribing her into letting them take care of her.
Wu Shengya lets herself be swept away, wondering absently if this is what coming home feels like after all this time.
Wu Shengya reunites with her jiejies and the first thing they do is ask too many questions about Lan Wangji. She’s just thankful they didn’t do this during those nights she and Lan Wangji were on the road and her jiejies haven't gotten their birds yet.
“Isn’t he the handsome young master you had us gift flowers to?” Xinyi-jiejie asks because of course she remembers.
“We’ll talk about that later,” No, they won’t, if Wu Shengya has anything to say about it. “We have more important things to talk about, like that presence you mentioned around our borders.”
According to Fuyan-jiejie, the presence is surprisingly benign. It hasn’t made any moves to penetrate the protective barriers around the area. But it also hasn’t shown any signs of leaving ever since it has been discovered. There weren’t any new suspicious figures in the nearby village and as far as Xie Lian knows, there hasn’t been any god dispatched aside from the Water Master and her Martial God husband.
“I don’t think they mean any harm,” Fuyan-jiejie says. She’s peeling lotus seeds to put in Wu Shengya’s plate. “But it’s still kind of weird to be hanging around like some stalker.”
“Has anyone seen what they look like?”
Xinyi-jiejie shakes her head, “Not fully. But we think they are perhaps looking for something in the area.”
“Why else would they be hanging around without actually doing much of anything?” Fuyan-jiejie chimes in with a shrug. “We would like to ask them questions but they’re just a bit too slippery for us.”
Wu Shengya considers all the information that has been given. It’s a relief that this being does not seem to have any ill will towards anyone but it’s still too early to be so confident.
“Maybe we should draw them out? Bait them with something?”
“We’re not hunting, Shou-jiejie…”
“You’re straight up no fun.”
While the other three ghosts are bickering about what to do, Wu Shengya sits and stews on her options and the information they have at hand.
“What would they be looking for in a place like this?” She asks herself. The Burial Mounds, now the Bleeding Meadows, has little to no secrets nor legends. Their village has little to offer in terms of, well, anything but ghost-cultivated agriculture. Her three jiejies are quite literally the only interesting things around for anyone who wasn’t looking for fresh produce.
Then, it clicks.
Ah, of course. How could she have forgotten such an obvious thing?
“I think,” Wu Shengya says after a moment of intense silence. “I know just what to do.”
Dogs. Why does it always have to be dogs?
Wei Wuxian tries hard. He tries so, so hard not to scream bloody murder and turn into a crow and fly away.
It would have been perfectly fine if the obstacles and clues they found were just the walking corpses and the maze array. Wei Wuxian could perfectly handle those, he’s great at them! Even the maze array is proof that there is definitely more to the ridge than what meets the eye. That’s enough clues for them to move on with the case.
But by the gods did this investigation have to involve a dog?
It’s Jin Ling’s spiritual dog, yes, but it’s still a dog. Dogs are cruel and vicious and bite you very hard when you don’t give them what they want!
“Where is Young Master Jin?” Wei Wuxian asks. He is definitely, definitely not sitting high up a tree and hugging its wide trunk. He also definitely didn’t instinctively climb all over Lan Wangji when he first heard the barks. Nope, none of that is happening right now.
They’re in front of a cluster of stone castles made of greyish-white stones. They were all made into strange semi-spheres and covered in lush vegetation, making them look like they were large, abandoned, overturned bowls in the wild. They could be the fabled “man-eating castles” but it is hard to tell if they actually were or if there were any beings inside of them.
Jin Ling’s spiritual dog had been barking nonstop in front of these stone castles and had darted straight at Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji when it spotted them. The dog didn’t dare to approach Lan Wangji, perhaps out of fear. It didn’t run away, however, and instead seemed like it was trying to tell them something. It tried to bite at the corner of Wei Wuxian’s robes, which lead to him speeding up and away, first climbing on Lan Wangji and then deciding that a nearby tree offered a higher escape point.
Lan Wangji merely gazes up at him from below. His face is as unreadable as ever and not a hair was out of place. How is this man so put together?
“The dog wants us to investigate the castle. Let us go inside and see” Lan Wangji said. If Wei Wuxian didn’t know any better, it’s as if he’s trying to coax down a child from the tree. Luckily Wei Wuxian knew better and didn’t think of it that way.
“Hanguang-jun,” Wei Wuxian responds. There is no tremor in his voice, not at all. “There is no door.”
Who builds a castle with no doors? Whoever made these particular castles, that’s for sure. The castles had neither doors nor windows nor any kind of decoration. They were simply grey-white stones built so closely together, it seemed like not even air could get in.
The dog seems to understand what they were saying and tries to leap up at Wei Wuxian. It never even tried to go near Lan Wangji’s own robes. Instead, it is adamant that Wei Wuxian is its chosen one for whatever task it wanted them to fulfil.
Wei Wuxian is literally feeling his spirit jump out of his temporary mortal shell right now and thus, in a fit of self-defense, gets one of his crows to chase the dog away. One of his crows comes down to answer his mental summons and Wei Wuxian cheers inwardly, seemingly saved.
…
…
…
Why does it seem like his crow and the dog are conversing?
Wait.
Wait, wait, wait, wait.
What are they doing?
Wei Wuxian watches in betrayal and disbelief as his crow cautiously sits on the dog’s head and the dog doesn’t rip it to shreds. Both crow and dog look at Wei Wuxian expectantly. From the back of his mind, Wei Wuxian gets the vague feeling that they should be going somewhere around the back of the castle somehow. The dog must have told his crow, who told Wei Wuxian in turn.
Very helpful information. Wei Wuxian would be darting off to investigate right now.
If it weren’t for the fact that the dog is still right there.
Still, both the crow and dog look up at Wei Wuxian.
Urging.
Pleading.
Wei Wuxian looks at Lan Wangji and gestures at the two animals.
Are you seeing this absolute nonsense, Hanguang-jun? He tries to convey with his eyes.
Lan Wangji gazes back at him. We are not the one perched upon a tree like a runaway toddler, he seems to convey right back.
So, Wei Wuxian loses 3 to 1. Unfair.
Wei Wuxian swallows his pride, steels himself, and jumps straight back down. He does not stumble and yet he still feels the ghost of a touch on his back, steadying him. That makes Wei Wuxian pause just a bit. What was Hanguang-jun doing, casually and voluntarily making physical contact with another person?
Hm. Much to think about. But not right now since the dog and his crow have darted off to the direction of the back of one of the stone castles. The two animals had led them to an opening in the wall that was about a young person’s height. From the uneven shape of the opening to the rock fragments around it, it was clear that someone had created the opening using the force of a magic tool. The inside is too dark for a human to see, but Wei Wuxian isn’t exactly human anymore. Unfortunately even with his ghost-enhanced eyesight, there didn’t seem to be anything of note besides the faint red light.
Putting all the pieces together, Wei Wuxian can conclude that Jin Ling must have been the one to break open the stone castle but something happened to him afterwards.
Where are his retainers? Wei Wuxian couldn’t help but wonder. Have they fallen into the trap of the stone castle as well?
Lan Wangji moves first, unsheathing Bichen to act as a light to guide him as he enters the stone castle. Wei Wuxian quickly follows, completely unwilling to stay in the company of the dog for any longer. He manages to send a panicked mental order to his crow to stay with the dog but he doesn’t stay long enough to find out if his crow obeyed.
In his rush, Wei Wuxian did not look where he was going and, as a result, he almost crashed into Lan Wangji’s back. For the second time in a single shichen, Lan Wangji voluntarily makes physical contact with Wei Wuxian to support him. Wei Wuxian sees Lan Wangji shake his head minutely. It must be from dissatisfaction or resignation.
Eh, Wei Wuxian has that effect on people. He’s glad to know that ultimately Lan Wangji hasn’t changed that much. Thirteen years really can mellow out a person in unexpected ways after all.
Xinglu Ridge is naturally cold as it is a thick forest with tall trees. The inside of the castle should be colder than the outside as well. Wei Wuxian doesn’t feel the cold at all. What he does feel is muted resentful energy sticking on his skin like drying sweat.
The ridge and the forest within make a very favourable environment for abundant yin energy. The forest provides abundant shade which invites cool air. Its thick canopy helps with the moisture retention of the forest and the ridge itself. The stone castles are nestled in a very favourable area in the forest that encourages natural, tranquil yin energy to flow right in. Even the inner structure of the castles seem to be made with this idea in mind.
That should be the case, but why is it that the resentful energy in the area is overpowering the yin energy?
Wei Wuxian needs to mull over it some more. The balance of energies within the castle feels very fragile and he’s sure he’s close to the bigger picture. He could put all the pieces of the puzzle together if only…
Lan Wangji hears Wei Wuxian stop in his tracks. He turns around to ask him, “Did you sense anything?”
Wei Wuxian licks his lips and massages his temple, “Everything’s too loud.”
Oh, right.
That’s why his thoughts have been more scrambled than tadpoles in a disturbed pond.
The noise of the stone castle has been pressing against Wei Wuxian’s very being ever since he stepped into the stone castle.
Listening to the sounds feels like Wei Wuxian has been forcefully dragged underwater. The noise is muted and amplified at the same time, talking all over each other but also together. Male and female, old and young, loud and quiet, elated and anguished… There are a few fragmented words that try to surface from the cacophony but Wei Wuxian could not make heads nor tails of them.
What did Hua Chengzhu say about blocking out the screams of the damned again? Mentally smack them away like flies trying to invade your food?
Or does he do what he does with the Burial Mounds and imagine closing the door to the connection? But this noise feels more like an army besieging his house than a couple of extended family arguing over in the next room.
Hmm…
Hua Chengzhu’s method it is.
It takes Wei Wuxian a couple of moments to successfully bat away the noise.
Wei Wuxian says nothing about what he has heard. Lan Wangji says nothing about not hearing anything at all.
They had more pressing concerns… Like how the Compass of Evil’s needle is spinning like mad and showing no signs of stopping anytime soon.
Just how much resentful energy is actually trapped in this castle?
The sense of foreboding becomes heavier. Wei Wuxian picks up his pace and calls out for Jin Ling once. Nothing answers him apart from the echo of his voice. It really does seem like he and Lan Wangji were the only ones within the stone castle. Wei Wuxian calls for Jin Ling a couple of more times but the results were still the same.
The pair venture deeper into the stone castle. Most of the stone rooms they find are empty.
And then they find a room with a black coffin.
Odd.
When they approached the coffin, Wei Wuxian could see that it was crafted by a skilled craftsman using high quality wood and other materials. The feeling of resentful energy prodding against his own yin energy increases as Wei Wuxian pats the coffin. Sturdy wood, firm sound. Truly a well-made coffin.
A look passes between Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian. They open the lid together with a shove.
The coffin is opened and the noise from earlier comes crashing back with a vengeance, startling Wei Wuxian for a moment. Wei Wuxian could make out their words now; agitated and incredibly, incredibly unhappy about the coffin being opened. Wei Wuxian hurriedly filters out the noise until it is only a dull hum at the back of his mind. He shifts his focus back to the coffin.
He prepares himself for anything that might come out of the coffin itself. Strong, rancid odours, poisonous waters, an awakened monster, perhaps some resentful spectres and toxic smoke… Perhaps, and more optimistically, there might be Jin Ling. Alive, mind.
But alas, the coffin was empty. Ah no, not empty.
Is that…?
Wei Wuxian feels disappointment roll over him when he sees that Jin Ling wasn’t in the coffin either. He inches a bit closer to the coffin. Lan Wangji approaches the coffin as well and it is then that Wei Wuxian notices a certain look on his face. Perhaps the noise was loud enough this time that he was able to hear?
The glow of Bichen’s cold light illuminates the bottom of the coffin. Inside its deepest part lies a long, unsheathed sword.
Who would bury a sword like this?
And it wasn’t just any sword. It looked to be a blade of high quality. Its hilt seemed to be casted from gold and its blade shone bright. It rested on a bed of red cloth, giving it a scarlet glow. It very much looks as if all the blood it had spilled had followed it to its grave.
Wei Wuxian, “A sword in a coffin?”
Peculiar. Very peculiar indeed. Xinglu Ridge certainly is a bastion of mysteries that are slowly being revealed.
Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian continue their exploration of the stone castle. They found more coffins in other rooms, all of which contained long swords. The texture of the wood tells them that the coffins and the swords are all of different ages. But with all these strange discoveries, there still wasn’t a hint of Jin Ling anywhere. Worry gnaws at Wei Wuxian’s bones as he closes the lid of the coffin in the last room.
Lan Wangji takes one look at Wei Wuxian’s face. He looks thoughtful for a moment before he pulls out his guqin and lays it horizontally on the coffin. His fingers meet the guqin’s strings and a melody begins to fill the air.
The song that Lan Wangji played is only a short one, an excerpt of a longer piece. Wei Wuxian has a feeling about what that particular piece is. He can feel it tug at his own being, gently beckoning him to respond. If Wei Wuxian was a weaker ghost, he would have. But he is not a weaker ghost and he is able to brush away the prodding with nothing but a blink.
Lan Wangji takes his hands off of the guqin. He watches the strings intently. Then, a singular note plays by itself.
“Is this perhaps the GusuLan’s famous Inquiry?” Wei Wuxian asks, leaning into his Mo Shanxi persona.
“Mn,” Lan Wangji answers. “There is already someone willing to answer our questions.”
That was the singular note from earlier. Wei Wuxian hums, intrigued. He knows that the language of the guqin is one of the GusuLan Sect’s unique skills and unfortunately, it is one of the things that he was unable to learn. This is clearly a rare chance to see it performed, and by one of the best of the Sect at that!
“Then, Hanguang-jun,” Wei Wuxian whispers to him. “Would you mind asking our dear guest about this place? Perhaps anything about its purpose and who originally built it?”
As expected of a master of the language of the guqin, Lan Wangji complies to Wei Wuxian’s request with confident ease. The strings respond with two notes on their own.
“What did they say?” Wei Wuxian asks. His voice holds a thinly veiled excitement and anxiety. Excitement over seeing the guqin language in real time, and anxiety over Jin Ling’s condition. Surely this spirit has a kernel of information that might be useful in their search for Jin Ling, and in the unravelling of the mysteries of these stone castles.
“I do not know.” is Lan Wangji’s answer.
Wei Wuxian blinks, “What?”
“Their response was ‘I do not know’.” Lan Wangji replies, as patient and as unhurried as he usually is.
This whole exchange reminds Wei Wuxian of a conversation held long ago about ‘whatever’. Not only has Lan Zhan mellowed out these past view years, Wei Wuxian thought in slight disbelief. He has also learned how to make me speechless.
Lan Wangji plays another sentence on the guqin, seemingly unbothered by Wei Wuxian’s lack of verbal response. This time, Wei Wuxian could tell that the spirit had answered ‘I do not know’ again.
“What was the question you asked this time?”
“How it died.”
“It seems likely that it was killed when it wasn’t paying attention. Perhaps we can ask if it knows who killed it, then?”
Another phrase is played. Alas, the answer given is the same as before.
‘I do not know’.
A trapped spirit that doesn’t know anything about the very place that trapped it. It knows nothing of its manner of death, nor of its killer. What a poor state to be dead in. As a fellow deceased person, Wei Wuxian mentally pours one out to the spirit.
“Hmm… We should change the angle of our questions. Ask them if it is a man or a woman. Surely it knows that at least.”
Lan Wangji does as Wei Wuxian says. It is a bit of a surreal experience, if Wei Wuxian is to be completely honest. Lan Wangji is seriously following the words of a rogue cultivator whose true motivations are still yet to be seen. But then again, perhaps Lan Wangji has judged Mo Shanxi as a righteous person as of the moment.
This time, the strings respond to Lan Wangji’s inquiry differently. “A man,” Lan Wangji translates.
Wei Wuxian requests Lan Wangji to ask the spirit questions pertaining to Jin Ling and the boy’s whereabouts. According to the spirit, Jin Ling did indeed enter this particular stone castle. The boy is also apparently ‘right here’.
‘Right here’ should refer to the stone castle itself. But both of them had searched the place high and low and found no signs of Jin Ling.
“It’s answering to Inquiry, thus it cannot lie, can it?”
“It cannot,” Lan Wangji confirms. “I am here, after all.”
Again, as expected of a true master of the guqin language. The spirit would certainly be unable to lie in his presence.
As Lan Wangji continues to interrogate the spirit about Jin Ling, Wei Wuxian busies himself by carefully examining the rest of the room. Any hidden mechanisms or secret rooms would be particularly helpful right about now. Wei Wuxian cannot sense anything in terms of resentful and yin energy either. He can recognise the resentful energy of the many swords they have encountered and the natural yin energy of the place.
Wei Wuxian cautiously reaches out to the two abundant energies in the area. Jin Ling is a living cultivator carrying a powerful magical tool. If Jin Ling is truly just ‘right here’, then his presence should leave a noticeable anomaly in the flow of energy in the area, much like Hanguang-jun’s presence is.
Wei Wuxian did not try this method earlier for Lan Wangji’s yang presence is extraordinarily strong. It is still strong now, pushing against the much denser yin in the area. But time is of the essence and the longer they dally, the more likely it is for Jin Ling to find himself in deeper danger.
Just as Wei Wuxian was about to go deeper in search of a second yang source, Lan Wangji finishes his Inquiry.
“The spirit is fifteen years old, from Lanling.”
Wei Wuxian pauses. So the spirit that they have been conversing with was Jin Ling?! He scrambles to listen closer to the cacophony of voices and sure enough, he can hear one voice that sounds like Jin Ling. It was being drowned out by the rest of the voices, but Wei Wuxian considers that proof enough.
Lan Wangji asks the spirit for a precise location and Wei Wuxian stares at the guqin strings unblinking, waiting almost impatiently for the answer.
Finally, Lan Wangji relays the spirit’s instructions, “Stand at where you are, face the southwest, and listen to the strings. After each note is played, walk forward one step. When the sound stops, it will be right in front of you.”
Wei Wuxian does as he is told and faces the southwest. The guqin tells him to take seven steps. Then six more notes follow, their intervals growing longer than the last. Wei Wuxian slows his pace as well, until he stops in front…
…of a wall?
Then, it clicks.
“He’s in the wall?!”
No sooner after that, the sound of Bichen unsheathing echoes in the room. With four strikes of Biche, an outline is carved into the wall. Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji took apart the bricks making up the wall until the black dirt underneath was revealed. It seems the stone castle had a layer of dirt packed between two layers of hard rock. Wei Wuxian wasted no time barehandedly digging into the dirt until a human face was finally revealed, their eyes tightly shut.
Wei Wuxian sucks in a breath.
Jin Ling!
Jin Ling immediately started to cough and breathe, finally able to access air after a time of being buried in dirt. He’s still alive! Wei Wuxian’s unbeating heart finally starts to calm. Since Jin Ling was able to answer to Inquiry, that meant that the boy really almost did die. If they have gotten to him any later…
Wei Wuxian doesn’t want to think about that particular possibility.
The two adults made quick work digging Jin Ling out of the wall. What they did not expect was something else to come along with the boy.
Latched on to Jin Ling’s sword was the ashen bone of a human arm.
While Lan Wangji tended to the unconscious Jin Ling, Wei Wuxian pokes around in the dirt using both Bichen’s sheath and his own ghostly senses.
There is a skeleton in the wall. Wei Wuxian digs further and removes more bricks. He unearths another skeleton, this time only partially decayed. It was a woman, and squatting by her feet is another skeleton. All the while, his own ghostly energy is weaving through the dirt layer itself. It senses one, two, three… More, and more, and more, and more.
Wei Wuxian stops digging. The noise in his ears is now louder than ever and they seem to be trying to dig deep into his own being, the reverberations almost making his head spin.
“Hanguang-jun,” Wei Wuxian stares unblinkingly at the rest of the space.
“There are corpses in the walls.”
Somewhere southeast of Qinghe…
A man and a woman sit at a corner table of a teahouse. They are dressed in nondescript, simple robes in shades of yellow. Two neat braids keep the woman’s bangs away from her face. The man has a simple high ponytail. The woman has a weimao in front of her, while the man has a sword and a bow on his person. Later, when someone were to ask one of the patrons present to describe the couple’s faces, they would be given conflicting and confusing accounts.
“We haven’t heard from them in a while,” The woman murmurs, tracing the rim of her teacup in thinly veiled worry. “We should go to them. What if something happened?”
“They were supposed to meet us some time ago.” The man agrees. He reaches over the table and takes one of her hands into his. His thumb rubs gentle, soothing circles on the woman’s knuckles and she relaxes minutely.
“We only have one more thing to do. We’ll do it quickly and we can go and catch up to them, okay?”
The woman breathes in, then out. She grips the man’s hand just a bit tighter.
“Alright. Just one more. And then we go to them.”
The man smiles, “We will.”