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“It’s up to you,” Lan Qiren said to his brother, who he hadn’t spoken to in years – not since Lan Wangji had gotten old enough to pay his respects without assistance. “You don’t have to do it; it is not something I would force anyone into, not in a million years. But I will be doing it, and I can’t help them both by myself. I need you.”
Qingheng-jun stared off into the distance, his eyes blank and vacant.
“We’ll die,” he finally said.
“Probably,” Lan Qiren said, because it was true. “I would even say that it is more likely than not. But…they’re your sons. Your legacy.”
That made his brother finally shift his attention to him. Lan Qiren wasn’t sure if it was the appeal to the connection they had, the fact that Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji were the only things his brother had left of his wife, or merely the appeal to his vanity, the thought of what he would leave behind in the world – he who had been so promising and so praised and yet accomplished so little, all through the consequences of his own decisions.
Still, it didn’t matter to Lan Qiren why his brother agreed to do it, only that he would do it. Lan Qiren wouldn’t, couldn’t, force a decision of this magnitude, but that didn’t mean he didn’t believe wholeheartedly that it was the right thing to do.
The only thing to do.
“How would you accomplish it?” his brother finally asked, and Lan Qiren couldn’t help but exhale in shaky relief, the fear that had been consuming him finally given vent – he’d agreed, then. He’d do it.
His brother had finally, finally, at the end of all things, lived up to Lan Qiren’s expectations.
“There was a promising medical paper presented in one of the discussion conferences,” he said, deciding to omit the fact that the author of the paper was a Wen, and a young woman, and that he hadn’t even asked her to do it as of yet. They could deal with that after they dealt with the more immediate problem. “It raised the suggestion that a golden core could be transferrable from one individual to another, particularly if the donor and recipient both cultivated in a similar tradition – it was a throwaway reference only, but having reviewed the evidence I believe it is possible, especially if the donation is given voluntarily.”
He also omitted to mention that such a donation could only be done with someone of exceptionally strong cultivation, as no one else would be able to endure the agony necessary to persist, awake and focused, through the entire lengthy surgical process. There was no need to mention the obvious.
“Wholly untested, then.”
“Of course it’s untested,” Lan Qiren snapped. “Who in their right minds would agree to donate their golden core, of which any person can only have the one in their lifetime, in any circumstances but the most dire? My nephews, your sons, are lying in some rotten hut in the middle of the woods, comatose and unaware – and I was the one to put them in that state myself, all so that they don’t wake up in time to realize that their golden cores, their futures, have been destroyed. I want them to wake to a world where that isn’t the case.”
“Even if we do what you suggest,” his brother said, “the world they wake into will be one where the sect they would have inherited has already been destroyed.”
“You cannot say that our sect has been destroyed as long as it has people to continue it,” Lan Qiren disagreed. “If they are restored, our sect lives on…it’s not just their futures at stake here. It’s all of ours – you, me, our ancestors, everything that was put to flame and sword by the Wen sect.”
The attack on the Cloud Recesses hadn’t been a warning the way it had been when the Jiang sect was burned, their sect leader and his wife gravely injured, both heir and head disciple captured and brought to the Nightless City while the daughter had fled with their sect treasures. No, the Jiang had been able to start rebuilding despite that, and that meant that the Wen had learned their lesson. The attack on the Cloud Recesses had been comprehensive, complete; it had been a deliberate extermination aimed at eradicating their entire way of life. If Lan Qiren hadn’t learned from the lesson of the Jiang sect and, in secret rebellion against his own sect elders who insisted that there was no danger, sent away many of their junior generation into hiding along with the contents of their library, they would have nothing left.
But it was all for nothing if Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji didn’t make it. If they lost their cores or died, that spelled the end of the main family line of their sect. Sure, a cousin could take over, one that shared their surname, and they could keep up the traditions Lan Qiren had so painstakingly preserved, but it still wouldn’t be the same.
In the face of that…
In the face of that, what use was a golden core to Lan Qiren, who was unmarried and likely to remain that way for the rest of his life, or to Qingheng-jun, who would never again remarry? They had both put everything they had, all their hopes and dreams and future, onto the children that Lan Qiren had raised on his brother’s behalf. They had given them everything. What was one more thing next to that?
It was only…
“Is it really worth it?” Qingheng-jun asked. “Our lives for theirs – that I could agree to, and readily, too. But to give our lives, our cultivation, for just the possibility of success…I’m not sure about that.”
Lan Qiren put his hands behind his back to hide how they were clenched into tight fists, the knuckles white. He had only one golden core to give. If his brother didn’t agree, he would have to pick which of his nephews would wake up whole, and which one crippled.
He would have to pick.
“Please, xiongzhang,” he breathed. He couldn’t force his brother to do anything he didn’t want to do. He wouldn’t, he couldn’t, and anyway it would be pointless. He’d never before swayed his brother’s decisions on anything, not once in his life. But he still had to ask. “Please.”
A long moment of silence.
An eternity.
And then –
“All right,” Qingheng-jun finally said. “All right. Let’s do it before they wake.”
-
“The Lan sect is doing remarkably well, all things considered – Zewu-jun and Hanguang-jun are among the most impressive generals in the Sunshot Campaign, even with the disadvantage of having to revive their sect from having lost almost everything. They don’t call them the Twin Jades for nothing!”
“No, to be sure, the way they’ve carried on in the face of such tragedy is impressive. After the massacre at the Cloud Recesses, with such heavy losses…”
“Mm, indeed. I heard that they fled along with their father and uncle, carrying with them the most sacred of their sect books – of course they were undoubtedly doing most of the work there. I heard their father died of the injuries he’d incurred before they ever woke, and their uncle was in a similarly terrible state.”
“Teacher Lan? Oh, it’s so sad, what happened with him…”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, the Wen sect was chasing them down, of course. I heard he sacrificed himself to distract the pursuers from his nephews to ensure their escape, knowing that in his injured capacity he would only act as a burden slowing them down, and Wen Chao was so angry at missing his chance at the Twin Jades that he threw him into the Burial Mounds!”
“No! That’s terrible!”
“Now, fellow cultivator, I don’t know if that’s true – I heard that Teacher Lan was seen in the Lan sect camp as recently as half a month ago. How could he be there if he got thrown into a place as vile as the Burial Mounds…? You shouldn’t spread rumors.”
“Who are you to talk about rumors?! You’re the one talking about terrible curses, corpses rising to fight in battle, and other such atrocities…”
“Those aren’t rumors, I saw them with my own eyes! Fierce corpses, vicious, murderous, seething with resentful energy. And they weren’t fighting just anyone, they were fighting the Wen sect only – someone was controlling them.”
“Are you suggesting that there’s, what, some sort of demonic cultivator out there supporting the Lan sect? Ridiculous.”
“No, I’ve heard it too! I’ve heard that they play a phantom guqin, the tones of it echoing in the night. They say that this demonic cultivator acts as the blackened shadow of the regular sect, and no one knows who it really is – they keep themselves back, hiding in the dark like an assassin, and heavily cloak themselves whenever they need to go out onto the battlefield…”
“Now that’s ridiculous. Whoever heard of a demonic cultivator trying to hide what they’re doing? Aren’t they all arrogant and self-centered, reckless, unbearably bloodthirsty?”
“Not this one, apparently…”
“Well, demonic cultivator or not, as long as they’re killing strictly Wen-dogs, what do I care? The sooner we bring down the sun, the better. Best of luck to them, that’s what I say!”
“I’ll drink to that!”
-
“Wait,” Wei Wuxian said, goggling at Jin Guangshan and not caring one bit that he was being incredibly rude by interrupting the other man’s announcement, nor the fact that he was implicitly challenging Jin Guangshan on his own home territory, being as virtually the entire cultivation world had returned to Lanling City for the feasting following the Phoenix Mountain hunt. “Wait, wait, I’m sorry, are you trying to tell me that you think Teacher Lan – and just to make sure we’re being precise here, we’re talking about rule-abiding, rigid, stubborn, boring old nerd Lan Qiren, the one who used to lecture me all the time about even thinking about something unorthodox – is the Lan sect’s secret demonic cultivator?!”
Everyone acknowledged by now that they had one, of course.
It was impossible not to, even though the demonic cultivator had started out in a very limited, one might even say surprisingly restrained, fashion, restricting themselves to only doing things in defense of the Lan sect’s back line – and then eventually their front line, but still largely in a defensive posture, and almost exclusively using corpses of unknown antiquity. It wasn’t until later, when things had gotten more desperate, that they’d started being more aggressive, using the corpses as offensive weapons, resurrecting the fallen soldiers of the Wen sect against their own friends and allies…it was clear that they tried whenever possible to remain scrupulous about not using their own people, not just Lan but anyone on their side in the Sunshot Campaign, but it was also equally clear that demonic cultivation was an imprecise art, and sometimes they couldn’t help it.
Wei Wuxian had been crazily curious to meet this demonic cultivator more or less from the very first moment he’d heard of him.
Everyone knew the Lan sect was associated with them and that meant they of course knew who it was – if nothing else, the Lan sect’s strict practice of taking time to play soul-calming melodies and other songs of liberation following any incident of demonic cultivation use had made that clear, though it had also helped reduce the criticisms of the practice – and yet Lan Wangji, no matter how close he and Wei Wuxian had gotten during the war, still refused to say.
Though…Wei Wuxian supposed he understood why, if the demonic cultivator was in fact Lan Qiren.
That would, however, require the demonic cultivator to be Lan Qiren.
“Putting that aside,” Nie Mingjue said, frowning severely even as the rest of them gawked, “what’s this nonsense about him suddenly and for no reason killing your sect disciples and kidnapping the remaining Wen sect members?”
“It’s not nonsense,” Jin Guangshan said. “It’s true. There are witnesses.”
“The only part that’s nonsense is the suggestion that he would do so without a reason,” Nie Mingjue said impatiently. “This is Teacher Lan we’re talking about!”
Wei Wuxian couldn’t help but nod in agreement.
He wasn’t the only one in the hall nodding, either.
“Anyway, even if Teacher Lan really were to turn to murder, he wouldn’t have left witnesses,” Jiang Cheng added, wrinkling his nose. “Be thorough in all that you do, do not be haughty or complacent. Do you know how many times I had to redo my homework before he accepted it? And you’re expecting me to believe, what, that he’d be sloppy about it or something? Teacher Lan? I can’t believe it.”
Even more nods around the room, especially fervent among the younger generation that had attended Lan Qiren’s classes.
Jin Guangshan scowled, having clearly expected a bit more deference to his explanation.
“This is easily solved,” he said testily. “Is it not one of the Lan sect rules not to lie? I put to Zewu-jun and Hanguang-jun – is your uncle a demonic cultivator or not?!”
Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji exchanged glances.
Wei Wuxian’s eyebrows shot up. No way…
“Shufu has always sought to act in a moral and upright manner, no matter the cultivation path he uses,” Lan Wangji said, his voice flat, and the room exploded into whispers. “A path that he has only chosen due to what happened during the course of the war, when our ability was at its least and our desperation its greatest, and which he strongly advises others against under any normal circumstances.”
Lan Qiren is a demonic cultivator, Wei Wuxian marveled, and then promptly got annoyed: And Lan Zhan didn’t tell me?! I had so many ideas I wanted to pass along and converse about! It’s unfair!
“I concur with Wangji,” Lan Xichen said. “I believe in my shufu’s wisdom and restraint. If he took the Wen sect remnants unexpectedly and by force, I am certain he had a good reason for his actions. We will pursue this matter…”
“You will do no such thing,” Jin Guangshan thundered, cutting him off, and Lan Xichen looked taken aback by the unexpected rudeness. “The culprit is your kin and your senior, and everyone knows how the Lan sect honor their elders. How can we trust that you will impose justice in a fair and equitable fashion?”
Lan Xichen looked offended now, and rightfully he should be – Nie Mingjue certainly looked almost apoplectic on his behalf – but Wei Wuxian could see a fair number of heads nodding in the crowd. The Lan sect was known for its devotion to justice, that was true, but this was the sect leader’s uncle, who had very nearly sacrificed his life for them during the war. Even if Lan Qiren really had committed a crime, how could Lan Xichen of all people bear to hold him responsible for it? To do so would be to be unfilial, to fail to do so unjust – he was in a really tough position. He’d look bad no matter what way he picked.
That was probably what Jin Guangshan intended, actually.
Wei Wuxian elbowed Jiang Cheng, getting his attention, and whispered furiously into his ear.
A moment later, Jiang Cheng loudly cleared his throat and stepped forward. “This is easily solved,” he said, letting his voice carry. He’d really grown into the role of sect leader over the course of the war, ever since his parents had been forced to resign from the battlefield on account of their injuries. “Teacher Lan is famous for being thoughtful and proper in his conduct, as well as eloquent in his words – if there is an explanation to be had, surely he would be able to provide it. Why don’t we all go to wherever he has gone and ask to hear that explanation?”
Jin Guangshan didn’t like that, Wei Wuxian could tell from his expression, but there wasn’t anything for it – the momentum was with them, with Lan Xichen immediately agreeing, saying that his uncle would undoubtedly welcome being examined by his peers in the cultivation world, and Nie Mingjue adding his own (very loud) voice in support of the idea. All the others in the hall were also nodding and talking along, and the overarching tone was that of curiosity, mixed with a little bit of scandalized amusement, but not rage.
“Thank you for your assistance,” Lan Wangji said, appearing at Wei Wuxian’s side. Wei Wuxian had no idea how he’d even had the attention to spare to notice what Wei Wuxian had done.
“Think nothing of it, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian said, then nudged him a bit with his elbow. “Just tell me you passed on some of my better ideas to your uncle during the war, will you? Even if you didn’t, haha, I would still like to flatter myself…I still want to talk to him about it, you know. Some of the melodies he uses are so interesting!”
“You are likely the only one who takes such a circumspect opinion of my uncle’s practice, for which I thank you, but I would recommend once again against too much enthusiasm for the subject,” Lan Wangji said, voice heavy. “Demonic cultivation is a disfavored path for a reason, and though my uncle has sought whenever possible to minimize the effects on the temperament and the negative consequences, it is difficult.”
“Why does he do it, then?” Wei Wuxian asked, genuinely curious, and was surprised by the expression of genuine pain that passed over Lan Wangji’s features. “Lan Zhan?”
“He doesn’t have a choice,” Lan Wangji admitted quietly, his voice so soft that Wei Wuxian could barely hear it. “He sacrificed his orthodoxy for my brother and I, yet the injuries he incurred, whether there or – or later – are quite dire. He is not so young as we are; without some form of cultivation, any form, he will more than likely die. And the war…”
“I understand,” Wei Wuxian said. They’d come so close to losing Jiang Fengmian and Yu Ziyuan – he’d never gotten on with Yu Ziyuan, the two of them always butting heads, but they’d fought side by side against the Wen sect. The thought of something happening to her still made him see red; he couldn’t even imagine how it must be for Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen, who had always been close to their uncle, who had raised them all on his own, and then sacrificed himself to save them, being tortured and thrown into the Burial Mounds…no, it was all quite clear to Wei Wuxian what happened. Better demonic cultivation than nothing, that was to be sure, and Lan Qiren really had been absolutely invaluable during the war. Without him, the Lan sect might have perished. “And the Wen sect remnants? Any idea why he took them?”
“I do not know. But I trust my shufu.”
“Oh, certainly. I’m sure Teacher Lan has a good explanation,” Wei Wuxian said confidently. “We just need to hear it.”
-
“Thank you for taking the time to seek me out,” Lan Qiren said to the ravening mob currently being held immobilized at the bottom of the Burial Mounds. Technically they had come to listen to him, as the quick and frantic secret letters he’d received from his nephews, Nie Mingjue, and Jiang Cheng had all said, but someone had clearly been inciting them on the way, and they’d been all but ready to lay siege by the time they’d actually gotten here.
He was choosing to ignore that.
“While I have your attention,” he said, “and before we get to the question of the disposition of the Wen sect remnants, I was hoping to take a few moments to dispel a few unsubstantiated myths regarding the use of resentful energy and of my particular brand of demonic cultivation in general.”
They were staring at him.
Good.
“Now,” he said, and gestured for Wen Ning to unfurl the large scroll he’d prepared in advance. There were several, but Wen Ning had enthusiastically agreed to hold them up in sequence for him. “I’ve put together a presentation. If you’ll please pay attention to the board…”
Somewhere in the audience, he thought he could hear Wei Wuxian laughing.
-
“I don’t know what the rest of you were expecting, but this is completely what I expected,” Wei Wuxian said gleefully. “I told you he was a nerd!”
“Please desist from referring to me that way,” Lan Qiren said censoriously. “Immediately, if you please.”
“Oh, can’t you lighten up?” Wei Wuxian complained, absently looping an arm over Lan Wangji’s shoulders. “We’re celebrating a glorious victory today! You got absolved, Jin Guangshan’s face got dragged into the mud, Wen Ning – who’s great, by the way, I can’t believe I nearly forgot that we became friends back in the Nightless City – Wen Ning and his family are in a safe place now…now can we talk about how you’ve gotten demonic cultivation to work the way you have?”
“I don’t think you can call anyone else a nerd,” Jiang Cheng commented, rolling his eyes. “You’ve been loudly calling for an academic conference on the subject since you first heard about it.”
“Well, yeah, but still…”
“Probably for the best it wasn’t Wei-xiong that figured it out first,” Nie Huaisang opined. “I mean, just think about how that would have gone, it’d have been terrible!”
“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”
“A fascinating exploration of the importance of tone in presentation,” the newly dubbed Jin Guangyao murmured. He’d only been invited to the victory party on account of his sworn brotherhood with Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen, but he seemed somewhat relieved to be there – probably grateful to be anywhere but back at home where Jin Guangshan was no doubt raging over his failure to turn the cultivation world against the Lan.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Wei Wuxian complained. “What’s wrong with me being a demonic cultivator? I’m brilliant, charismatic…”
“Arrogant, reckless, and used to suffering no real consequences to your actions,” Nie Mingjue put in, voice dry, and there were nods all around. “You don’t know how to back down, and that would make people fear you.”
“Whereas no one fears shufu,” Lan Xichen agreed, nodding, and then blinked when everyone in the room gave him looks. “What?”
“Everyone’s afraid of Teacher Lan,” Jiang Cheng said. “Just, you know, not…afraid afraid. You know?”
Everyone except Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji nodded. Lan Qiren looked long-suffering about it.
“It’s a good point, though,” Nie Huaisang said. “Teacher Lan is famous for his good conduct, but also there’s his manner: he thinks about everything he says before he says it, he rarely deviates from a monotone, and even when he gets really angry, and I mean really angry, he just gets red in the face and can’t actually verbalize anything. It’s really hard to think of him as someone who’s going to kill you, rather than someone who will…I don’t know…be disappointed in you.”
“Thank you,” Lan Qiren said. “I…think?”
Wei Wuxian huffed. “Well, putting that aside,” he said. “Can we talk about it? Jiang Cheng’s not wrong about me wanting an academic conference. Can we do that next discussion conference instead of a hunt? Phoenix Mountain was great and all, but, you know…”
“We live in interesting times,” Nie Mingjue declared, rolling his eyes good-naturedly, and raised his cup. “A toast!”
-
“Shufu,” Lan Wangji said. His hand was at his stomach, hovering lightly over his dantian. “Do you ever…regret?”
“Not once,” Lan Qiren said. He’d known he wouldn’t be able to keep the truth from his nephews forever. “Not for a single heartbeat. Your father and I knew what we were risking, what we were doing, what it might mean for us, and we made our choice with open eyes. I regret nothing.”
He paused.
“Though perhaps I slightly regret the headaches I’m going to have once you marry Wei Wuxian in and there will be nowhere left where I will be able to retreat to in order to avoid his endless pestering…”