Chapter Text
On the edge of Yunmeng, at the top of a cliff, stood a lone shrine dedicated to Qinghe’s martial god of defensive warfare. The path up to the shrine seemed to have been worn down at some point, but weeds and vines were starting to retake the road, and the blooming overgrowth made it almost impossible to notice unless one knew what they were looking for.
A young man who donned purple robes slashed through the overgrowth with his sword, his glare focused on following the traces of a path that had been established not so long ago, but was nonetheless abandoned. This young man had heard the history from the local villagers—of refugees from Qinghe who had built the shrine on the cliff three years ago after the ascension of former Qinghe-Nie sect heir Nie Mingjue to godhood.
Nie Mingjue’s story was infamous—a young man who fought off the onslaught of Qishan-Wen’s warpath and ascended. He was revered widely—even beyond Qinghe. Known for his power and duty to protect, he amassed many followers and temples to his name were built everywhere. And then, after the untimely death, and suspected assassination, of the Nie clan leader, Nie Mingjue’s temples were all destroyed by the Qishan-Wen army. The remainders of the Nie clan disappeared, and Nie Mingjue, who was just a newly ascended god was assumed defenseless. There were refugees who moved south, trying to build shrines to offer tribute and empower the god, but as Qishan-Wen pushed towards Yunmeng, they destroyed any remnant dedicated to the martial god in their wake.
All except one.
The young man approached the small shrine, which seemed to have been haphazardly made with wood and stone. It was hidden behind the overgrowth of a willow tree, and vines were starting to overtake the abandoned structure. The shrine itself was taller than the young man, with a bench that was large enough to sit on, but the overhang was hardly deep enough to hide under if it were to rain.
The young man held the willow branches covering the shrine out of the way and took a deep breath. Honestly, he had never quite been very spiritual, choosing to hone his cultivation with repeated battle practice rather than meditation. He only prayed when he was desperate. Besides, Nie Mingjue wasn’t even a Yunmeng god, and Qinghe was a Wen wasteland as of two years ago.
Unfortunately, the young man, the heir to the Yunmeng-Jiang sect Jiang Cheng, courtesy name Wanyin, was desperate.
Jiang Cheng stepped through the willow branches, letting them sway shut like a curtain behind him. He sunk to his knees, the Yunmeng-Jiang clarity bell chiming by his thigh. Clasping his hands together, Jiang Cheng prayed—harder than he ever did in his life. He prayed that his parents, who he had not the opportunity to bury, rested well. He prayed that his older sister, who was last heard fleeing from Meishan to Lanling, was safe. He prayed that his martial brother would survive alongside him, for as long as this thankless war went on. And finally, he prayed for the power to take back his homesake—to clear Lotus Pier of the Wens and to take his rightful place as sect heir.
Tomorrow would be the day of a battle that would determine the war. If Jiang Cheng’s forces could take Lotus Pier back from the grimy hands of Wen Chao, it would be a turning point.
Every time Jiang Cheng thought of the impending battle, his shoulder started to shake. The possibility that he would survive was slim—some may even say it was next to none. He was just an eighteen-year-old sect heir who had never been good enough, who had only managed to barely survive to join the so-called Sunshot Campaign. Jiang Cheng thought he was the final shame remaining of Yunmeng-Jiang, and even if he survived the upcoming battle, what pride would he have left to recover if he did not win?
Jiang Cheng clicked his tongue, scowling at nothing in particular. What the fuck was he thinking? Being so desperate as to follow village rumors of an abandoned shrine dedicated to some fallen god?
Although, as Jiang Cheng glared at the shrine, he wondered just how abandoned it was. Even though the shrine was overtaken by weeds and otherwise abandoned, placed in the middle, leaning against the back of the shrine was what looked like a saber sheath. Compared to the rest of the dilapidated shrine, the sheath was quite impressive, its clean black paint embellished with what looked like polished gold insignias. The cleanliness made Jiang Cheng wonder if there was someone who was taking care of the shrine after all. If there was, they weren’t doing a very good job at it.
In fact, Jiang Cheng noticed that they seemed to have forgotten something. Upon the bench lay what seemed to be a closed fan. The paper was bright red—stark and gaudy against the worn wood of the shrine—and the frame of the fan was made out of black wood, painted with silver embellishments.
Something about it seemed familiar, but Jiang Cheng couldn’t quite place his finger on it. Curiously, he reached for the fan.
“It’s not nice to take someone else’s gifts, you know.”
At the sound of the voice, Jiang Cheng let out an undignified yelp, falling backwards. He caught a quick glimpse of another man before he quickly put his hand on his sword. He leaped back, pressing himself against the willow vines.
Somehow, without Jiang Cheng noticing, a boy had approached him and sat on the shrine seat. His eyes were wide at having a sword drawn on him, but he didn’t budge from his spot. Once Jiang Cheng’s eyes met the other boy’s he almost put down his sword. He didn’t seem threatening, with his soft round features and flowing olive green and gold robes—hardly prepared for a fight. He looked about Jiang Cheng’s age, with hair that was tied up in a half bun with a large white ribbon, and the part he left down curled delicately into the bottom of his jaw. His dark eyes were gentle and unassuming. In fact, if Jiang Cheng weren’t panicking, he would have called him beautiful.
Nonetheless, Jiang Cheng stood firm with his sword drawn, his bell ringing once by his side. Something about the other boy wasn’t quite right.
“Who are you?” Jiang Cheng demanded with a growl.
Petulantly, the other boy crossed his arms. “Who am I? ” he asked. “You’re the one trying to steal my gifts from my shrine! Shouldn’t you be telling me who you are?”
Narrowing his eyes, Jiang Cheng took another look at the boy, his mind racing. Those robes were familiar, Jiang Cheng realized. Although he had never formally met anyone from Qinghe-Nie, he had seen their disciples years ago in passing, before the fall of the sect. What was a random Qinghe-Nie disciple doing here calling Nie Mingjue’s shrine his own? Did he build it?
The nagging feeling that something wasn’t quite right—that he was facing something unwieldy—suddenly hit Jiang Cheng, and his eyes widened as he stared at the other boy. His shrine? But gods weren’t allowed to appear in the earthly realm, as far as Jiang Cheng knew! Perhaps there was an exception made with the impending Wen war?
Although… Jiang Cheng gave the other boy an up and down look. He didn’t expect Nie Mingjue to be so… small? He had heard that the god was imposing and powerful, but this boy looked too… pretty. Perhaps looks were just deceiving?
The supposed Nie Mingjue’s cheeks were starting to turn red, his eyes darting to the side as he pulled his arms close to his chest self-consciously.
“H-hasn’t anyone told you it’s rude to stare?” Nie Mingjue stammered, his accusation coming out much softer than he intended.
Quickly, Jiang Cheng sheathed his sword and bowed deeply, and Nie Mingjue squeaked in surprise as Jiang Cheng’s forehead hit the dirt.
“Wh—”
“Great god,” Jiang Cheng began, his heart beating fast. He cursed all the times he didn’t pay attention when he had gone to temples of Yunmeng gods, not quite sure how to ask a whole god to answer his prayer in person. “The fact that you’ve appeared before me is the greatest blessing I could ask for. Please, I beg of you, to listen to this humble one and grant me your power.” When Nie Mingjue didn’t answer, Jiang Cheng took another deep, shaking breath. “My sect—my family—was destroyed by the tyranny of the Qishan-Wen sect. I am the rightful heir to Yunmeng-Jiang and tomorrow I march into battle to reclaim Lotus Pier. Please grant me the power to—to defend my family’s home and restore our pride.”
Jiang Cheng closed his eyes tightly, forehead still pressed against the dirt. For a long moment, there was silence—the only sound being Jiang Cheng’s own breathing against the ground. As the moment passed, Jiang Cheng began to wonder if he had ruined his chance, and the god had disappeared, until he heard the snap of what sounded like a fan opening.
Jiang Cheng lifted his head to see the boy hadn’t moved from his spot, but had procured a fan—different from the one Jiang Cheng tried to pick up. Nie Mingjue’s brows furrowed together almost pitifully as he fanned himself.
“Forgive me, but…” he began hesitantly, “isn’t it too late for you to defend Lotus Pier? The Wens have claimed it already.” His words, although soft and a little uncertain, still felt like a twisting sword in Jiang Cheng’s gut. Jiang Cheng tore his eyes away as Nie Mingjue continued. “You’re asking to give you the power to attack the Wens at Lotus Pier. You don’t need defense, you need revenge.”
“Yes,” Jiang Cheng snapped, and although the other man flinched slightly at that, Jiang Cheng refused to feel guilty. He had anger that was bubbling in him, boiling for too long and threatening to spill. His nails dug into the dirt as he lowered his head. “Yes! I want revenge. Anything you can give me to help me destroy those fucking Wens for what they did to my family—”
“Nie Mingjue is the god of defensive war,” the other man said.
Jiang Cheng scowled up at him. “So, what? You can’t help me?”
Nie Mingjue stared at Jiang Cheng for a long moment, fanning himself slowly. His charcoal eyes were innocently curious, but then he smiled, and there was a flash of something in his expression that Jiang Cheng couldn’t quite place.
“I didn’t say that,” Nie Mingjue said, closing his fan. “Lucky for you, I actually know a thing or two about vengeance.”
A lightness filled Jiang Cheng’s chest and he nodded profusely, his eyes starting to well up. “Thank you,” he began, “thank you, I—”
“Hold on!” Nie Mingjue said, raising a hand to stop Jiang Cheng. “I didn’t say I would help.”
Jiang Cheng’s eyes widened as he scrambled to his feet, legs wobbling as he tried to approach the shrine. He growled, tightening his fists. “What do you mean?”
“People normally give offerings to gods,” Nie Mingjue said, motioning to the intricate red fan that was still sitting to his side. “I’m easy to please, though. I like nice things—pretty things. Offer me something I want and I’ll help you enact your revenge.”
Jiang Cheng’s blood ran cold. “I—I don’t have anything to offer,” Jiang Cheng said, his mouth feeling dry. “I was run out of my own home with nothing but the clothes on my back and my sword.”
Nie Mingjue’s lips pulled into a pout. He hopped off of the bench and approached Jiang Cheng curiously, circling him like a predator examining its prey. Jiang Cheng’s heart hammered in his chest as the mysterious god came closer. Nie Mingjue was already beautiful from afar, but up close, Jiang Cheng found that words could not truly capture just how enchanting he was. He had long lashes that cast shadows over his cheek when he blinked with very soft-looking, pouting lips. Even the way he leaned in towards Jiang Cheng, inspecting him, was graceful. Jiang Cheng could not look away. Jiang Cheng could detect his scent from where he stood—something faintly like ink and ivy… and something else entrancing that he couldn’t place.
“What about your ring?” Nie Mingjue finally asked, and Jiang Cheng let out a breath that he didn’t realize he was holding. “It’s very pretty. I’ll trade you a favor for your ring.”
Jiang Cheng twisted Zidian on his finger, gulping. “I can’t give you this ring,” he said firmly. He tried to set his expression to something stern, but found that he couldn’t even manage a scowl as Nie Huaisang blinked up at him. “This was… my last gift from my mother. Without it I can’t face their graves even if I take back Lotus Pier.”
“Oh…” Nie Mingjue said, surprisingly sympathetic. He tilted his head curiously at Jiang Cheng.
“Really,” Jiang Cheng insisted. “I have nothing to give you.”
Nie Mingjue hummed to himself thoughtfully, before his smile curled into a mischievous smirk. There was a playful glint in his dark eyes that sent a shiver down Jiang Cheng’s spine as the god sidled closer so that they were chest to chest. Jiang Cheng found himself rooted to the spot, his eyes following the movement of Nie Mingjue’s lips as they parted.
“There actually is still one thing that you can offer me,” Nie Mingjue said, voice lowered to a sultry whisper that sent a wonderful shiver up Jiang Cheng’s spine.
“Yes,” Jiang Cheng said before he could stop himself, his tongue darting across his bottom lip.
Nie Mingjue let out a giggle that was too sweet for the situation—and Jiang Cheng found himself mesmerized by the sound. The god looped an arm around Jiang Cheng’s waist, and with the other, he let his hand slowly trail up Jiang Cheng’s chest. His fingers brushed Jiang Cheng’s neck before reaching his jaw, and Nie Mingjue’s palm cupped Jiang Cheng’s cheek.
His hands were soft, Jiang Cheng noticed. Unusually soft for someone who practiced the saber.
Nie Mingjue leaned in, his lips parting, pressing so close that Jiang Cheng couldn’t tell if the rapid heartbeat was the other man’s or his own. He felt Nie Mingjue’s breath fluttering on his lips and leaned in. And, as Nie Mingjue’s eyelashes fluttered, Jiang Cheng caught a glimpse of his dark eyes shining gold.
Nie Mingjue’s knee knocked against Jiang Cheng’s thigh, and the clarity bell rang. Suddenly, Jiang Cheng’s eyes shot wide open, realizing hitting him like a bucket of cold water as he pushed against the other man’s chest.
“You’re not Nie Mingjue,” Jiang Cheng said. “You’re a demon.”
The other man looked up at Jiang Cheng owlishly, his gold eyes twinkling with amusement. Jiang Cheng pulled back quickly, pushing the demon away. The demon let out an affronted squeak as he stumbled, but he didn’t trip. His white ears twitched above his head, and three large, fluffy white tails swished irritably behind him.
“You’re right on both accounts,” the demon said. “But I am Nie Mingjue’s brother.”
Jiang Cheng cursed under his breath as he put his hand on the hilt of his sword. How could he have let his guard down so much as to almost be seduced by a fox demon? As to almost making a pact with a demon?
“Wait! Wait, settle down!” the demon said, putting up his hands in surrender. “I don’t fight! And I wasn’t even going to hurt you!”
“You tried to enchant me!” Jiang Cheng growled.
“I was just going to take a little bit of your yang energy,” the demon whined. “Come on, I haven’t eaten in forever! It’s not actually going to hurt you. In fact, you’d probably like it.”
Jiang Cheng felt his face grow hot. “H-how were you going to take my yang energy?”
The demon hummed distractedly, eyes darting away as his cheeks dusted pink. “Oh, you know…” he said, vaguely waving his fan.
Mortified, JIang Cheng’s face quickly turned a bright shade of red. He straightened up, scowling at the demon. “ Fuck this, I’m leaving!” he declared, wincing when his voice pitched at the last word.
Quickly Jiang Cheng turned on his heel, shoving the willow vines out of the way as he made his way back down the path. He ignored the calls of the demon behind him, stomping and stumbling past the overgrowth before the demon finally caught up to him, clinging to his arm.
“Wait, wait! Jiang-xiong, hold on!” the demon whined. “Don’t you still want my help?”
Jiang Cheng faltered for a moment, remembering his goal, but he shook the demon off of his arm. “Let go of me, Demon!” he growled. “I don’t want your help if you’re just going to trick me again!”
“Fine! Fine, no tricks! I promise,” the demon said, waving his hands placatingly.
Jiang Cheng scowled, but nonetheless stopped. He turned towards the demon, who was now looking much less enchanting and more disheveled. The demon seemed to notice this, as he began to run his fingers through his tails, picking out any burrs that got caught in the fur.
“I never knew Nie Mingjue had a demon for a brother,” Jiang Cheng said scathingly.
The glare that the demon sent his way almost makes Jiang Cheng want to apologize, but it’s quickly replaced by another petulant pout.
“ Half -demon, half- brother,” the demon corrected. “My name is Nie Huaisang, by the way. Not ‘Demon’.”
Jiang Cheng scoffed. “Why does that matter? You’re still a fox demon.”
“You didn’t even know I was a demon until I practically revealed myself, because of your bell,” Nie Huaisang said. He tilted his head to look at the clarity bell hanging at Jiang Cheng’s waist, and his eyes shone for a brief moment.
Jiang Cheng frowned. “Well, I—” he began to protest, but was unable to counter Nie Huaisang’s point.
Nie Huaisang giggled, and the almost musical quality of it combined with his bright smile made Jiang Cheng relax slightly. “I’m pretty good at passing for human, aren’t I?”
When Nie Huaisang turned his dazzling smile on him, Jiang Cheng blushed and quickly turned away. “Not really,” Jiang Cheng said childishly, crossing his arms. “You still have a non-human aura—that tipped me off, too.”
Nie Huaisang frowned. “Dammit,” he cursed. “Da-ge always warned me about fixing that.”
Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes, and took a seat on a stone. Nie Huaisang skipped over, tails swishing happily behind him as he sat next to Jiang Cheng.
“Are you really Nie Mingjue’s brother?” Jiang Cheng asked.
“Yup,” Nie Huaisang said, puffing his chest out slightly. “I’m his favorite brother. Well, I think. He only has one, so he doesn’t have much of a choice.”
“Can you contact him then?” Jiang Cheng asked. He turned to Nie Huaisang, unable to stop the desperation seeping through his voice. “You said you could help me, right? Can you ask Nie MIngjue to give me the power to defend Lotus Pier?”
Jiang Cheng’s heart fell when Nie Huaisang’s fox ears drooped and the boy frowned. His gold eyes were cast to the ground.
“I can’t, actually,” Nie Huaisang said. “Ever since the Wens destroyed my brother’s temples, he hasn’t contacted me at all. He used to break heavenly rules to appear for me all the time, but...”
Jiang Cheng’s heart twisted as he watched Nie Huaisang’s eyes well up with tears. Sniffling, Nie Huaisang wiped away his tears on his sleeve. “Besides,” he continued in a small voice. “Da-ge is the martial god of defensive war. He might be able to give you the power to protect what you already have, but he can’t take back what is lost.” Nie Huaisang turned towards him. “You need someone who will give you the power to attack.”
“So it’s hopeless?” Jiang Cheng said bitterly.
“No,” Nie Huaisang said. One of his tails curled into his lap and he began to pick at the burrs caught in the soft fur calmly, as if he wasn’t deciding Jiang Cheng’s fate. Jiang Cheng resisted the urge to reach out just to see how soft his tail was. “I said I can help, didn’t I?”
“You must be stupid to think that I would make a pact with a demon.”
“I don’t think you’re stupid,” Nie Huaisang assured him. “I do think you’re desperate, though.”
Jiang Cheng glared at him. “You—!”
“I’m just saying,” Nie Huaisang continued. “Who goes to an abandoned shrine of a fallen god right before a major battle? You begged me so hard earlier, I felt like you were going to dig your head into the ground with how low you were bowing.”
“So what if I am desperate?” Jiang Cheng snapped. “I’m about to march into battle against the very same army that decimated my clan and my parents!”
“I know, and I said I can help!” Nie Huaisang said. He looked up from his lap and levelled Jiang Cheng with a steady golden-eyed gaze that made Jiang Cheng freeze. “I promise you, if you make a deal with me, I’ll guarantee that you will be able to reap vengeance upon the Wens and take back Lotus Pier with the rest of your family in one piece.”
“How can I be sure you mean that?” Jiang Cheng asked.
“You can’t. You’re making a deal with a fox demon,” Nie Huaisang said, taking out his fan again. HIs tails swayed behind him as he opened his fan. “You’ll just have to trust me.”
Jiang Cheng had always been told tales of demons and the chaos they upended upon the cultivation world. The heavens, the cultivation world, and demons normally kept to themselves for the most part, with the heavens providing aid to those who worshipped them, and demons hiding themselves amongst the common folk or dwelling in their own domains. Fox demons, however, were the most suspicious. They were said to be inherently mischievous, taking human weakness to their advantage. They passed the best amongst human populations, and fed off of yang energy and dual cultivation and causing disaster. It was said that many fox demons were known to wreak havoc upon imperial harems and seduce emperors, empresses, lords, and ladies to do their bidding.
For Nie Mingjue to have a half-demon brother was unusual, but probably not unheard of. In fact, Jiang Cheng has heard of Nie Huaisang just once in passing. A young man that was born to the Qinghe-Nie sect but was deemed too sickly for cultivation. Although, this Nie Huaisang didn’t seem very sickly or frail at all, what with his sly looks and his three full-blown fox tails. Who knows how many people Nie Huaisang had seduced or how much disaster he caused in order to have three tails at their age.
Jiang Cheng felt like he would be a fool to trust Nie Huaisang.
“What could you possibly have to gain from this?” Jiang Cheng asked cautiously.
Nie Huaisang’s ears twitched. “I’m not exactly a fan of the Wen sect, you know. They toppled all of my brother’s temples. I’d love to see them get the crushing defeat they deserve,” he answered. He caught one of his tails in his hands and started raking his fingers through his fur. “Besides, I’ve thought of something else you can give me.”
“What?”
Nie Huaisang looked up with an excited smile. “Your bell,” he said. “It’s so pretty! The tassels, the artistry on the carvings and the beautiful sound it makes... I want it.”
“What?” Jiang Cheng looked at him with shock. “You can’t have my bell! That’s how I realized you were trying to seduce me in the first place.”
Nie Huaisang pouted and crossed his arms. “Then I guess you can go face the Wens on your own.”
Jiang Cheng scowled. “Are you really bargaining my life for a bell? How do I know you’re not going to try to eat me again if I give you this?”
Nie Huaisang narrowed his eyes at Jiang Cheng. “I wasn’t trying to eat you!” he insisted. “Besides, you already figured it out the first time. I can’t try that trick on you again.”
“You’ve already tricked me before. How can I believe you.”
“Come on , Jiang-xiong,” Nie Huaisang whined. Jiang Cheng wasn’t quite sure how to feel about the fact that Nie Huaisang was already addressing him familiarly. “I promise you, on my da-ge’s honor, that I won’t try to enchant you like I did earlier if you give me your bell.”
Nie Huaisang, to his credit, looked incredibly solemn, and although every nerve in Jiang Cheng’s body screamed at him not to trust a fox demon, Jiang Cheng untied his bell from his belt. The delighted look in Nie Huaisang’s eyes as Jiang Cheng handed him the bell almost made him feel like the risk was worth it.
Nie Huaisang leapt to his feet, jumping up and down with excitement and squealing as he shook the bell. The bell chimed jumpily, but Nie Huaisang didn’t seem bothered by the cacophony. He cooed as he brought the bell up to his face, examining the Yunmeng handiwork and running his hand through the violet tassels. Jiang Cheng couldn’t help but puff out his chest in pride, feeling his face grow hot at how… adorable this strange fox demon was acting.
Jiang Cheng stood up, clearing his throat as Nie Huaisang continued to be in awe over the simple bell. “We’ve struck a deal,” he said. “You have to promise that it’ll end like you said.”
Nie Huaisang was still smiling when he looked at Jiang Cheng. “I will make sure of it myself if I must.”
Jiang Cheng nodded and then turned on his heel. He had already stayed too long and the sun was starting to set. He had to get back and prepare for the worst.
“Come back again when all of this is over, okay Jiang-xiong?” Nie Huaisang called after him. “It gets lonely up here.”
Jiang Cheng sighed. “If I make it back from this damned war.”
“No,” Nie Huaisang insisted. “When.”
But when Jiang Cheng turned around to confront him on how he could be so confident—so sure for a fox with only three out of nine tails, Nie Huaisang was gone.
The battle of Lotus Pier began at the break of dawn. A mix of forces made of remnants from sects wronged and destroyed by the Wen clan descended upon the Wen-occupied base. They launched their attacks at the Wen barrier relentlessly, but as expected, the Wens were prepared. Jiang Cheng grit his teeth as he snapped Zidian’s wip against the barrier, which held strong. He swore under his breath. If they couldn’t get past a simple barrier, how could they expect to get past an entire army of Wen cultivators?
Suddenly, amongst the cries of battle and the clashing of spells, a single chime echoed in Jiang Cheng’s ears. Jiang Cheng watched as the Wen cultivator holding the barrier closest to him suddenly faltered, and the cultivator blinked as if pulled in and out of a stupor. Jiang Cheng raised Zidian before the Wen cultivator could regain his focus.
Jiang Cheng had resolved to kill any Wen who stood in his way with extreme malice.
The barrier began to fall.
Jiang Cheng led his troops into Lotus Pier, roaring commands as they struck down any cultivator who dared to tremble in their war path. Wei Wuxian followed close behind him, Chenqing in hand with a manic grin as he charged forward. Jiang Cheng wasn’t going to stop him today, not when he had a goal to accomplish.
Jiang Cheng headed towards the main family pavilion—those Wen bastards had holed themselves in his family’s quarters. Zidian sparked purple lightning across the battlefield, destroying objects and humans alike as Jiang Cheng marched. As they reached the main rooms, Jiang Cheng kicked the door open and—
—all of the Wen guards in the main room were collapsed on the floor.
Jiang Cheng’s eyes darted back and forth, quickly trying to assess the situation. When none of the Wen guards sprang up or even flinched, Jiang Cheng stepped forward. Had they been poisoned? All of them so suddenly at once? Jiang Cheng couldn’t detect the smell of anything poisonous like a noxious gas or even corpse powder. No, all he caught was the scent of ink and ivy.
Ah.
“Bind those cultivators at once,” Jiang Cheng barked to his men. “If anyone resists, make sure they learn to regret it. You too, Wei Wuxian”
“Where are you going?” Wei Wuxian called. His brother’s brows were knit with concern and he moved like he was going to get up to follow him.
“This last one is mine,” Jiang Cheng growled as he pushed the doors to the back room open.
Wen Zhuliu charged at Jiang Cheng as soon as he opened the door and Jiang Cheng met him sword to sword. He nimbly dodged his hand, red sparks erupting barely brushing Jiang Cheng’s chest as he ducked.
Jiang Cheng bared his teeth. This was the man who killed his parents—who dragged his clan into the mud of disgrace. Jiang Cheng would not let him stamp on his pride again.
But even with all of the resolve in the world, Jiang Cheng felt unmatched. He was barely able to dodge Wen Zhuliu’s blows, let alone land an attack. He knew that this was an impossible fight, but he was finally starting to regret leaving Wei Wuxian behind.
Jiang Cheng missed with a swing of his blade just as Wen Zhuliu kicked him down. Jiang Cheng swore as he saw his palm race towards him, and his eyes flashed.
Suddenly, a shrill call broke through the chaos. “Wen Zhu—!”
It was cut off by the sound of a sword slicing, followed by a gurgling noise. Wen Zhuliu faltered, and that one moment was all Jiang Cheng needed to run his sword through Wen Zhuliu’s chest.
Wen Zhuliu fell, defeated by someone of less skill than him, very unceremoniously. It was all Jiang Cheng could have asked for. He pulled his sword out of Wen Zhuliu’s body and let him crumple to the floor. Behind him, Wen Chao’s body also dropped to the floor, his neck slit. And behind Wen Chao was a shorter man wearing Wen robes who flicked the blood off of his sword.
Jiang Cheng growled as he stepped towards the man, only seeing red as Zidian snapped around his finger. All Wens will pay for what they did to him.
The man’s eyes grew wide as Jiang Cheng raised his sword against him, and Jiang Cheng prepared to strike, when suddenly the chime from before echoed through the room, and Jiang Cheng caught the faint scent of ink and ivy.
Jiang Cheng stared blankly at the other man, who was cowering in fear—strange, considering the way he had just slit the second Wen heir’s throat in cold blood. Something tugged at Jiang Cheng’s chest, urging him not to kill the man—he was not his target.
Jiang Cheng sheathed his sword. “Is it just you?” he asked.
“No one else,” the man said.
“Then go, before someone finds you,” Jiang Cheng said.
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” the man said, leveling Jiang Cheng with a curious glance. He shed his layers of Wen robes to reveal a set of olive green robes and a charm with a familiar looking symbol dangling from his waist. He escaped through the window and Jiang Cheng turned around just as Wei Wuxian entered the room, looking wide-eyed at the bodies on the ground.
And out of the corner of Jiang Cheng’s eyes, he caught a glimpse of the swish of fluffy white tails outside the window before it disappeared without a trace.