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Wei Wuxian cast a look over his shoulder, but couldn't find it in himself to relax when he didn’t see anyone. In the back of his mind he could hear Jiang Cheng scolding him about stupid risks and academic reputation. But what was the point of having an ancient, hidden library if nobody ever got to read anything? Beneath his feet, the floorboards creaked as if in disapproval.
All he needed was a little look at one teensy little volume on prohibited talismans and he was sure he’d have his term paper in the bag. Besides, the lock was so old it had basically picked itself!
He picked his way through the treasure-laden shelves, lighting his way with the shitty flashlight on his busted-up phone (it wasn’t his fault, okay? Jiang Cheng had totally tripped him!). Every new scroll or sheaf of paper must have been worth more than his whole life twice over, but if he stayed to look through them all he’d definitely be caught, and he didn’t much like the idea of facing either old man Lan or the authorities about it. It wasn’t like he was going to steal anything! Sheesh!
Wei Wuxian reached the end of a row of shelves and darted around the corner to continue when something pale flickered in the corner of his vision. He plastered himself against the books, covering his phone with his hand, and tried for one heart-stopping moment to catch sight of whatever it had been, but there was no light source or movement to be seen. Maybe it had just been some dust drifting across the beam from his flashlight. He pulled himself together and carried on looking, and if he was perhaps hurrying a bit more than before, that was his own business.
He was bent over, inspecting a tome covered in truly illegible handwriting, trying to tell if he was on to something or not. The collection had been half-hidden behind the other texts, a scant inch of paper sticking out just enough for him to discover it.
“Wei Ying.”
Wei Wuxian brained himself hard on the shelf and fell over. There was no one there. He cursed his jumpy, paranoid mind. Of course there wasn’t anyone there. He’d have heard something. Seen something.
Something cold and pokey touched him. He tried to shake it off, thinking he’d probably disturbed a spider’s nest or something, but the sensation remained.
“Are you hurt?”
This time the voice, a richly resonant tenor, sounded closer. Stronger. Wei Wuxian lay very still and looked up.
Above him a swathe of white fabric had gathered, or no, maybe it was more like smoke? It swirled and swayed in intricate patterns, and he began to wonder how hard he had really hit his head.
“Where… where’s my phone?”
The thing made a series of twisting motions, making Wei Wuxian’s stomach wobble along dangerously, and huffed. Actually huffed, like, like, the world’s smallest angriest cartoon boss. Wei Wuxian began to laugh and found he couldn’t stop.
“You’re so funny… anyone ever tell you that?” he slurred.
In lieu of reply, the thing reached what looked like a sleeve-covered arm into Wei Wuxian’s chest, another reaching into his stomach. He didn’t have time to be frightened.
The world shook and turned, and time flowed backwards and forwards at once. Then it stopped. And suddenly Wei Ying remembered everything.