Son of the phoenix

by Luvlybxtch3

Summary:

Wei Ying died at the Siege of the Burial Mounds, torn apart by corpses and abandoned by the world he once fought for. He thought that was the end

But when he wakes again, it’s in a body far too small, held in the trembling arms of a stranger with cold hands. They call him A-Ying-not a ghost, not a monster,Just a child.

Born again in the past, Wei Ying slowly learns that his so-called parents, He always thought Wei Changze and Cangse Sanren were his parents. But the truth is far older, far stranger.

His parents are one of the most powerful cultivators to ever exist-untouchable, terrifying, and ready to kill for him without hesitation.

His uncle spoils him in his own loud, tsundere way,always scolding, always protecting. His a die, no longer the cruel Emperor taxian jun but still fierce, keeps one hand on his sword and the other steady at Wei Ying’s back. And his baba, proud and reserved, loves without words,shielding his son with every inch of his strength, even when it goes unseen.

Chapter 1: Chapter 1

Burial Mounds, Nightless City Siege

The sky burned red.

Screams tore through the night like the shredding of paper, like flesh peeling from bone. The smell of iron, blood, ash, and decay curled thickly in the air. Fierce corpses swarmed the hillsides, their howls echoing, their twisted limbs pulling themselves toward him—toward their creator.

Wei Wuxian stood at the center, barely breathing. His robes were tattered, stained dark with blood—his own or someone else’s, he didn’t know. Chenqing lay limp in his hand, but no matter how he played, the resentful energy crackled wild and unbound, slipping from his grasp like spilled wine soaking into dry earth. Useless.

He could feel it—his control, shattering. Crumbling like everything else he tried to protect.

Jin Zixuan’s face flashed in his mind. The horror in his eyes. The silence after.

Shijie… His shijie’s blood on his hands. Her eyes… still open. Reaching for him even as her life faded. “A-Xian…” she had whispered.

He had screamed her name until his throat bled.

He fell to his knees.

The ground beneath him was cracked and scorched, the Burial Mounds no longer a refuge but a graveyard of broken promises. The Wen remnants—Wen Ning, Wen Qing, all those who had followed him out of hope,they were gone. Scattered. Dead. He had failed them too.

And now, even Jiang Cheng,his brother, his family,stood among the forces gathered to destroy him.

All the cultivation sects.

All of them.

Against him.

He laughed, cracked and hoarse. “So this is it?” he whispered to the wind. “This is what I fought for?”

There was no answer. Only the clamor of swords, the howling of corpses, and the gurgle of the resentful energy rising like a tide to devour him whole.

No one had mourned him before he died.

No one had ever truly loved him—not for who he was.

The son of a servant. The untamable ghost path cultivator. The butcher of Nightless City. Not the son of a proud disciple of Baoshan Sanren—no, they never mentioned that. It was always his shame they remembered.

And Lan Zhan… Lan Wangji. He wasn’t here.

He hadn’t come.

Maybe it was better that way.

Wei Wuxian closed his eyes as the corpses surged forward.

He didn’t fight. He didn’t scream.

He let them take him, bite by bite, tear by tear, piece by piece, until there was nothing left of the man who once smiled in sunlight, played his flute in golden fields, and believed he could protect the ones he loved.

If death was an eternal sleep, let it be deep.

And if there was no mourning, no hand to hold, no name spoken with sorrow—

—then let the world forget him, as it always intended to.