Chapter Text
A god sits with his back to the heavens
fingers just barely mixing with the clouds
“Bloom, little one.” His voice sings
no one hears a thing.
Xue Yang lays in the grass, not unlike how he was when Xiao XingChen had found him all those years ago, arm crudely bandaged and stained with grass, dirt and blood. His hair was unbound and spread out around him, like tendrils of resentful energy, which was a bit strange since he had always taken to keeping it up in a high ponytail. Another peculiar addition, or lack thereof, was the fact his outer and inner robes were pulled open hastily. Blue, black, and dirty white fabric lay limp from his remaining arm, the only part of his robe that really managed to stay on, while the rest of it had been pulled or cut off.
He ponders the possibility of assault, but quickly dismisses it when he realizes his legs are just fine, pants still tied tight around his thin waist, and although his robe is almost completely shredded, nothing hurts where it shouldn’t. (If his ribs had been broken with a beating, though, he’s not sure he would be able to completely realize it - too used to them healing wrong to figure out if the pain is a fracture or just how it is now.) It’s a bit of a relief.
Then he remembers.
Jin GuangYao’s second chance for him and Su She’s responsibility for his life during the job. He remembers the golden Sect Leader’s honeyed words of, “ Another chance at life, by just holding back that YiLing Patriarch and crew. Isn’t this what you wanted anyway? To meet your idol? ”. He recalls rejecting the offer, but quickly backpedaling when the other had mentioned amnesty and forgiveness. He had wavered then, and eventually given in.
Xue Yang has never despised his past decisions more than he did now.
After Su She had helped him get away from Yi City and Lan Wangji’s merciless attacks, Xue Yang had passed out, becoming dead weight. He remembers how the air had swirled and jerked when the transportation talismans had burned, how Su She had let out a string of curses Xue Yang would have never expected the decorated man to mutter, and then darkness. When he had woken up with a pounding headache and halting breaths, he admittedly was disoriented. Within a few minutes, he was able to piece everything back together, though.
Su She bailed, huh.
A bitter laugh curls in his throat and chest, and although he grins sardonically, he doesn’t let the sound escape his lips. Yi City is too close. If he makes too much noise, the likelihood of survival will plummet even more than it had already.
Self preservation even on the brink of death… Xue Yang’s only true life skill.
He tries to sit up so he can take a look at the state of his arm. It’s a bit gorey, although wrapped haphazardly with bandages, it doesn’t completely cover everything. Just then, he hears unexpected movement from nearby. With a mumbled fuck and a pathetic flail, he lays back down and rushes to even out his breathing. He couldn’t have been out long, and if he was as close to Yi City as he thought, it was likely Wei Wuxian or one of the brats following after him. Maybe even that illustrious HanGuang-Jun.
There’s a period of silence where Xue Yang can only hear his stuttering, quiet breaths and not the gentle footfalls of the person shuffling nearby. The person is still there, every nerve in his body is screaming that they’re right there , but the fact there’s no sound indication is worrying. He’s scared, terrified really, but another part of him whispers a quiet you have nothing to live for anyway . He winces at his own depressing thoughts, refusing to admit to himself that he needed that dumb blind man and liar girl to make him even slightly happy in this life.
If he had really needed them, he wouldn’t have made it this far .
It’s a lie, of course, but Xue Yang was nothing if not convincing. Each time he thought of them , he would whisper this phrase over and over until the image of a sliced neck faded from his mind. He said it to stay sane. He said it to survive. He said it, but it was a lie.
A few moments later, there’s a snap of a twig near his head, and Xue Yang knows he’s fucked, but he still forces the last of his energy into his remaining arm, pushing himself up and away from his horrible hiding spot of tall, dense grass. He considers strangling Su She for putting him in such an obvious spot, but quickly pushes the thought out of his mind to apply all his dwindling focus to the situation he’s in now. Blinking up at the figure who has threatened his (semblance of) peace, his vision tips slowly, followed by the undeniable thud of his body falling back on it’s side. Ah, that’s really pathetic .
The figure is Wei WuXian.
There’s a hint of a smirk resting on his lips as he bends down to look over Xue Yang, dusty black robes swaying as red-tinted eyes linger on the crudely wrapped bandages around his arm before flicking back up to his face. Xue Yang unconsciously shifts back a bit; the dark-rimmed eyes staring at him would be unsettling on anyone, but on The YiLing Patriarch ? He would sooner stop breathing than look at him directly like this. It’s pitiful how scared he is of this Senior now that he has no upper hand, no weapon to even try to chip at Wei Wuxian’s mental state.
Xue Yang flinches back when Wei Wuxian moves suddenly, shame filtering through him almost immediately after as the reminder that he’s scared of death gnaws at his bones again, and closes his eyes tightly as if to ward off this danger somehow. He expects the worst, a slow death flashing behind his eyelids like a taunt, but instead of a punch or a stab, he’s only greeted with a loud thud and a dramatic sigh. He chances a glance at Wei Wuxian through his eyelashes, expecting him to be taking out Chenqing or some new tool he has created to raise the dead in this new body of his.
Instead, he is met with the sight of Wei Wuxian lying on the ground, gazing up at the stars as if he were begging for answers he knew he would not receive.
Xue Yang slowly relaxes then, opening his eyes completely to continue glancing at his contemplative Senior. He doesn’t know what to expect and it’s beginning to put him on edge, with every muscle in his body tensed as if ready to attack at a moments notice. Xue Yang forces himself into a sitting position, refusing to look so embarrassingly weak in front of the YiLing Patriarch no matter how obviously desperate, and fingers his robe where he used to keep a hidden knife. It’s not there.
He holds back a hiss of frustration and glances at Wei Wuxian once more only to gape in surprise and rising anger. Wei Wuxian is holding his spare knife between lithe fingers, twirling it with an ease Xue Yang almost didn’t expect. Almost . He remembers reading the reports of the YiLing Patriarch and how he had apparently taken to twirling his flute in both boredom and in hopes of intimidation. Xue Yang really just hopes he’s bored.
Boredom would be much better than anything else in this situation.
As careful as always, Xue Yang tries his best to put a bit of a distance between him and the man next to him. Grass crunches as he scoots away, causing him to wince and bite his lip. It works for about five seconds - and then Wei Wuxian pounces on him like a snake on a frightened rat.
“What are you trying to do, now ?” He questions, confidence leaking from every drawn out syllable. “You know I’ll catch you if you try to leave.”
Xue Yang tries to scoff, he really does, but instead it comes out as a choked whimper. Wei Wuxian just looks at him, eyebrows raised but face otherwise emotionless. No matter how much Xue Yang knew about the man in front of him - his kindness, his sacrifice, his absolute stupidity - his overwhelming presence seemed to crush any ember of fight within him. Finally, Xue Yang gathers the courage to snap back. It’s weak, but it’s a start.
“Why are you here anyway?” His voice is raspy and strained, but at least it still works. At least it’s not just a whisper .
Wei Wuxian doesn’t seem too worried about answering quickly (Xue Yang thanks the gods out there that seem to have suddenly blessed him - at least a minute amount) and instead moves to pick at the grass surrounding them. Again, his face is oddly contemplative, completely different from what Xue Yang always expected from the YiLing Patriarch. Anger, hatred, disgust? All accepted - all expected .
But contemplative silence? Never .
Xue Yang remembers Jin Guangyao’s long speeches on this man’s character, on his values, on his thought processes. Never had he mentioned calm and contemplative tendencies - in fact, he was always described as the exact opposite . Constantly loud with sudden bursts of laughter or irrational rage, always the center of attention, consistently challenging people’s self control. Jin Guangyao wouldn’t lie about this, (in fact, Xue Yang realizes, it’s probably the only thing he truthfully told him before) meaning this side of this legendary villain was new , or at least hidden and kept to his private self.
He shifts slightly as uncomfortable pinpricks of numbness begin to crawl up from where his arm is bandaged. Wei Wuxian seems to notice this since dark rimmed eyes turn to him in an almost painful seriousness. “We don’t have much time.” His Senior mumbles while shoving his hand into his robes, looking for something that Xue Yang is slowly becoming less and less interested in. Warily, he eyes his elder, watching as a lip is sucked in between teeth out of frustration before a quiet “aha!” is finally heard a few moments later.
When his hand emerges once more, he’s holding some type of rock that shines an ethereal blue. Against his will, Xue Yang is immediately drawn to it, much like a moth to a flame. With shaking limbs he shuffles over to his Senior, eyes glued on to the little stone with an almost reverent aura. “What is it?” He asks, his voice breathless and demure. Wei Wuxian seems to find this almost comical, a small snort falling through his lips, but is quickly quieted by the glare Xue Yang sends his way.
A small cough and then Senior Wei begins to weave an explanation more fantastical and ridiculous than most people would ever be able to sit through. Xue Yang finds himself listening, attention sometimes drifting due to pain and blood loss but still there, and is mildly proud of himself for his own devotion towards learning something from Wei Wuxian himself. “This rock is something like a transportation talisman,” he says, eyes bright with conviction and twinkling with truth. “except it doesn’t take you to places on this world. Instead, it takes you to an alternate universe. I’ve used it multiple times now - not that I’m proud of that - but it’s pretty safe… at least so far? All you have to do is put some energy into it and it sends your consciousness into another version of yourself.” A deep breath. “I need you to come with me this time.”
Xue Yang chokes at that, eyes snapping wide open with surprise and near fury. “You get my arm cut off and then expect me to travel across worlds with you ? I might respect you, but isn’t that a bit fucking presumptuous?” A breath. “And why the hell are you asking me? Why not ask HanGuang-Jun? Are you insane? ” He feels like taking the other’s shoulders into his hands - hand - and shaking some sense into him, but the look on Senior Wei’s face has him frozen. This man was really serious ?!
There’s a soft sigh that leaves the others lips that has Xue Yang, himself, shaking. “I can only ask you Xue Yang. You know Meng Yao,” He flinches and Wei WuXian glances at him with a bit of sympathy in his eyes. “and you know the Wens better than anyone that I know that would willingly work with me on this. I don’t like you and I don’t like the things you did, but can I really pick and choose? This is the last jump I can do Xue Yang, I-“ Senior Wei chokes on his words a bit, voice cracking at the end. “ Please, Xue Yang.
I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t think you would take a chance.”
Xue Yang breathes in deep and slow, blinking away the black spots now dotting his vision. There’s a slight fear that he might pass out before giving Senior Wei a direct answer, but he’s sure the other would figure out how to wake him once more. He needs time to think this through, even though he feels like there’s no time at all. The stinging in his arm is getting worse and worse, made obvious by the blood soaking through the thin bandages wrapped around his arm, and he lets out a quiet groan.
Trying to focus, he thinks of the pros - a new chance at life, teachings directly from the YiLing Patriarch, maybe a way to bring Xiao XingChen back without sacrificing more useless lives. He thinks on his hatred, his anger, and tries to imagine bottling it, letting life go on without murdering the people who have wronged him. He knows Wei WuXian would keep him away from the spots in his life where he messed up , but is he really even ready to let go of all this resentment? Is he ready to give up on his lifelong goal? Even though he’s fulfilled it in this reality, it has not been definitively dealt out in the new life he’s being offered, and it creeps into his mind with both rage and fear.
He enjoyed killing the YueYangChang Sect. He remembers their screams and their cries of terror - how their bones cracked and flesh tore. He remembers the thrill that ran up his spine each time a voice would finally quiet, signifying yet another death. He liked the way satisfaction had settled into his very core when every single scream had been silenced, every single cultivator in that damned mansion had died. His skin had crawled with something near pleasure in those few moments because finally , his revenge had been completed in the most gruesome and demeaning way possible. Xue Yang had nearly worshipped every single one of the YiLing Patriarch’s creations since then, believing in their power and working on recreating each one with precision.
Jin GuangYao funded his genius.
Watched over Xue Yang like a hawk watches its prey, intent on making sure he is constantly busy. Xue Yang worked each day, at first out of gratitude that Jin GuangYao was helping him seek revenge, and then out of pure fear. Jin GuangYao spared him no kindness. He was not fake with him like he was with others, but he didn’t care for Xue Yang either - that much was obvious. When Xue Yang would get stuck on something a little too difficult to complete right away, he would sneer and send some type of punishment his way. Sometimes he was forced to go days without eating, others Jin GuangYao would come himself with his sword, Henshing, in hand.
Jin GuangYao did not make Xue Yang into the man he is today, but he definitely defiled any bit of sanity he had had left.
The cons rested in the fact he would have to relive some of the shittiest parts of his life over, specifically his life on the streets. He tries to imagine waking up in this new time, in an old body, and looking directly into Chang CiAn’s eyes as he works to convince Xue Yang to deliver a letter for him. He wonders if the pain would be just as great as it was way back then when those men kicked his ribs in till he coughed up blood. The other street children’s fingers digging into his arms in hopes of stealing what little money or food he had on him. Breathing in a shaky sigh, he tries to forget the cries and wails he had let loose after days of not eating.
And then, the thought of waking to Jin GuangYao’s Henshing at his throat. A terrifying struggle between Xue Yang’s selfishness and Jin GuangYao’s ambition brought to the physical plane. A shiver tears through his body as he lets out a pained hiss. He doesn’t want that and his body is plainly agreeing.
“Senior Wei, I can’t -. I can’t go back, I’d rather sit here and rot .” His eyes flickers to the other’s and he flinches from the hint of disappointment that hangs on Wei Wuxian’s lips. A face flickers in his mind, so beautifully sculpted but so devastatingly deceitful, holding more secrets than Xue Yang was ever prepared to learn. A head, a head , frozen in time and mounted. Panic seizing him quickly, he tries to push himself farther away from the other. It’s a pitiful attempt, and he normally wouldn’t be acting so frazzled , but if he ever saw Jin GuangYao again-
If he ever-
A hand cups his cheek while another grabs his remaining arm, causing him to freeze in terror. He can’t, he can’t, he can’t -. “Xue Yang, calm down .” Wei Wuxian’s tone leaves no room for argument, a clear command, but the panic sweeping within him is reaching a boiling point. He tips his head up in a desperate attempt to suck in more air, looking almost as if he was drowning right there, while his whole body trembles something fierce. A flash of a woman’s body, neck broken and stomach bloodied, flickers before his eyes and he shoves back the urge to dry heave. So much death , so much destruction, so much blood . Images of his past, darkened by years and years of thought, flash through accompanied by the sound of his wheezing.
Daozhang , JieJie.
His torso burns with a fierce fire and he tries to clutch at it - at his chest, at his very heart, that seems to be the source of his misery. (Later, he would ask if Wei Wuxian had somehow cursed his heart to feel as if acid itself was corroding it. Wei Ying would simply laugh.) He’s vaguely aware of movement around him, and then suddenly his head is shoved down between his raised knees. He flails, tries to push away whatever is holding him, but he’s quickly negated by clammy hands. “Hey, breathe .” A soothing voice appears a few seconds later, causing him to let out an uncharacteristic whimper. With his vision darkening around the edges, he tries to lurch out of the hands once more, but they only follow him, keeping him down and rubbing circles into his back.
He’s not calm, and whatever this person is trying to do is not helping, but his focus is no longer on those deaths and more on the fact he would love to strangle whoever is holding him now. It takes a few minutes, but he eventually calms enough to hiss a, “ Fuck off. ” to the person close to him. All that answers him is laughter.
When the pressure on the back of his neck is finally released, he’s able to look up, and he immediately winces. Ah, Right, Wei Wuxian . He gives a half hearted scoff and looks away, a blush burning at the tips of his ears when this Senior just grins at him like everything is somehow fine . (“What an idiot!”, he’ll think later, but for now - he’s convinced this man is magnificent).
A shadow falls over his thighs and he looks up out of curiosity, watching Wei Wuxian rise to his feet with mild awkwardness. He looks like an old man with a hand on his lower back and his knees popping so loudly you could probably hear them from a mile away. Xue Yang has half the mind to tease him, but exhaustion racks not only his body but also his brain, so he only smirks with a soft huff.
Senior Wei stretches out a hand to Xue Yang with a lopsided grin. He asks once more, “Will you go with me?” Xue Yang thinks he sees red-petaled flowers blooming on the other’s cheeks and silver droplets in his eyes. He’s beautiful, he’s daunting , and how could a fuck up like himself say no to such a chance.
He is quiet for a bit, a little frown on his lips, but then he nods. He’ll start over. He’ll pick up the jagged pieces this time.
A choice made, an ending ripped to shreds
The gods laugh in unison
“Foolish mortals!” They cry
“Stupid humans!” They chortle
While one stands to the side
“I wish them well, I wish them life.”
He whispers to the only one who listens
The butterfly answers the only way it knows how
by bursting into silver embers
starting anew, starting anew