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#And said hensheng without considering what other people would think
I love hensheng but telling people about its name must have been so awkward. Imagine if someone said "that's a cool sword. What is it called?" and JGY responded with "hating life". I mean, what would you even say to that?
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omgkatsudonplease · 5 years
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恭喜发财, how do they finally figure out jgy's a scumbag
When the high of Lan Wangji’s return fades a little, they turn their minds forward to other matters. 
“Have you heard from shijie?” asks Jiang Cheng one morning. Wei Wuxian looks up from his breakfast, brows furrowed.
“She’s not in Lanling?” he asks.
“She came to Yunmeng with the box,” says Jiang Cheng. “Considering Jin Zixuan showed up at Yiling, she must have been successful in reattaching his head. Where is she now?”
“Maybe Jin Zixuan will know,” considers Wei Wuxian, tucking back into his food.
“He doesn’t,” says Jiang Cheng. “He’s been sending search parties for her, too.”
Wei Wuxian purses his lips. “I’ll ask around,” he suggests, before he returns to smearing bean curd on his mantou.
Turns out, his shijie’s not the only person missing. Lan Xichen has also been reported not back in Gusu just yet, either. Wei Wuxian doesn’t really want to know where he is, but at the end of the day he’s still Lan Wangji’s brother, and Lan Wangji is as concerned as he is. 
“He might have gone to confront whoever gave him the music,” he says, in between bites of congee. Wei Wuxian considers it, shrugging.
“The question is: is that the same person that my shijie is convinced murdered her husband?”
Lan Wangji hums. “When you have eliminated the impossible,” he begins, and Wei Wuxian laughs.
“Yes, I suppose,” he concedes. “Where would he go, then?”
“There was a deed,” says Lan Wangji, frowning. “Guanyin Temple, in Yunping.”
“That’s also in Yunmeng,” says Wei Wuxian, clapping his hands. “Let’s go pay this temple a visit, shall we?
Paying that visit is easier said than done, it seems, as the grounds are crawling with well-armed monks. Lan Wangji pulls them into the shadows to try and avoid detection, slipping them through the ranks of the guards into the heart of the temple where there stands a large statue of a goddess who looks shockingly familiar in a way Wei Wuxian can’t quite place. 
There come the sounds of struggle. “… Utterly despicable!” a woman’s voice hisses. “Unhand me. You wait until we get back to Koi Towers – I am your Regent!”
“Shijie –” breathes Wei Wuxian, but Lan Wangji puts a hand over his mouth. Wei Wuxian’s fingers clench against Lan Wangji’s arm from where they stand in the shadows of the room.
“More light,” says the voice of Jin Guangyao. Lan Wangji is swift in response, slipping behind the statue as the monks bring in more candles. “Madam, I must say I am amazed that even in this part of the world our paths still cross. How did you come to know about my mother’s temple?”
“The resemblance is uncanny,” says Jiang Yanli coldly. More struggling, but this time it’s suddenly cut short. 
“I wouldn’t protest too much, my lady,” says Jin Guangyao. “These threads may not seem like much, but the wrong move from you… and they will slice your skin. Would you like a demonstration?”
Wei Wuxian can hear hatred in his shijie’s silence. The monks lead her footsteps towards the statue.
“There, there.” Jin Guangyao sighs. “It’ll be all over, sooner or later. You might even join your husband, if the Master of Shadows takes pity on you.”
“You disgust me,” spits Jiang Yanli. “Not because of the status of your birth. I would be the last person in the world to judge that, considering my brother – but because of the way you have treated your family and loved ones.”
“Family and loved ones?” scoffs Jin Guangyao. “Typical of a woman to value those above all. You are fortunate your parents saw value in you, to pawn you off to ours in a game of political chess. As for me, my father kicked me down the steps of Lanling Koi Towers the instant he saw me!”
“That still does not justify the other murders you have committed,” snaps Jiang Yanli. “Your wife loved you beyond reason. Your son was murdered in his crib.”
“Do you know, my lady, the true extent of my connection with A-Su?” wonders Jin Guangyao bitterly. “Did you know that her mother… and my father…”
A pause. “And yet you still married her,” breathes Jiang Yanli, disgusted.
“I had no choice.”
“You were desperate for approval from a man who never respected you. That’s entirely different from having choices, A-Yao.” Jiang Yanli’s voice is weary. “But even then, what about my husband? A-Xuan treated you like his true brother. Gave you titles and power you clearly do not deserve. Trusted you to do what was right for us and our people. And like a wild dog, you still tore him to pieces.”
A mournful silence pervades the room, broken only by Jin Guangyao’s slow pacing in front of the statue. “My lady, do you know the last thing your brother said to me… was to remind me that everything in my life I owed to him… and that without his support, I would be nothing more than a ‘backstabbing whoreson’?”
“That’s your justification for proving him right?” wonders Jiang Yanli.
“No,” admits Jin Guangyao. “I regret what I did that night. I have regretted it, all these years.”
“Liar,” mutters Wei Wuxian. Lan Wangji puts a finger to his lips, but it’s too late. 
“Someone else is here,” says Jin Guangyao. “Search the room.”
“No need,” says a new voice, and Lan Xichen steps into the temple, his hands up in a placating gesture as the monks train their weapons on him. “Xiaodi, I was told you were visiting your mother.”
“You could have waited in Lanling for me,” says Jin Guangyao, his eyes narrowed. “What brings you here instead, er-ge?”
“I came to return this,” says Lan Xichen, pulling out the demonic inquiry sheet music. “It has fulfilled its purpose. I no longer require it.”
Wei Wuxian stifles a gasp into Lan Wangji’s hand.
“It was a gift,” says Jin Guangyao. “I trust it has served you well?”
“Better than expected,” another voice cuts in, as Nie Mingjue also arrives in the temple, his saber drawn and expression thunderous. “The music you have given him has done nothing but invite resentful energy into him. It’s caused him to suffer qi deviations!”
“How would you know that was the music’s fault?” wonders Jin Guangyao. “After all, resentful energy is so unpredictable. Even if you only meant to enquire after it, it could still linger afterwards.”
“It was still you who gave him the score,” snaps Nie Mingjue. The ferocity in his stance is enough to cow several of the monks, who take some uncertain steps back towards Jin Guangyao.
“Are all of you useless?” demands Jin Guangyao. “Go stop anyone else from coming in!”
The monks bow and run off immediately. Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue barely spare them a passing glance.
“What about me, Master Jin?” asks Su She’s voice from beside Jiang Yanli. Wei Wuxian grits his teeth, remembering their last encounter at the Burial Mounds. Lan Wangji steadies him, putting a finger to his lips once more. 
“Guard her,” snaps Jin Guangyao. There’s a hiss as Hensheng slips from around his arm. “I must have a word with my brothers.”
He doesn’t get far, though, before the melody of a qin begins to play. Wei Wuxian slams his hands over his ears at the discordant notes; Lan Wangji, too, looks pained as he holds Wei Wuxian back. 
With the qin comes the thundering noise of a heartbeat, pulsing like a rapid-fire drum. Heavy, laboured breathing echoes through the room. And then, with a roar, Lan Xichen draws his sword.
“Brother!” he screams, lunging towards Jin Guangyao, who leaps out of the way. Blindly, Lan Xichen swipes and slashes through the air, spiritual energy toppling several of the candles in the room. Jiang Yanli screams, when his blade comes dangerously close to her face but only cuts a part of her veil. Wei Wuxian wants to leap into the fray, to stop Lan Xichen’s madness, but he is still being held in the shadows by Lan Wangji.
The melody continues to reverberate, as Lan Xichen’s sword finally meets Nie Mingjue’s saber. The two begin to fight, though Nie Mingjue’s platitudes to try and calm his sworn brother back down seem to fall on deaf ears. 
“Lan Zhan,” whispers Wei Wuxian. “Stop the melody.”
“En,” agrees Lan Wangji, and reaches for his own guqin, only to find air where it should be.
Fuck, Wei Wuxian thinks. Lan Zhan broke his guqin when he won control over the Stygian Blade corpses back at the Burial Mounds!
“You think you can wield Bichen?” he asks. Lan Wangji’s brows furrow, but he nods. “Stop Master Su. He must be the one playing.”
“And you?”
Wei Wuxian takes out Chenqing. “I learnt from the best,” he says, and begins to play ‘Rest’.
At first, his own playing is weak, quavering from infrequent practice. But the memories are still there – evenings spent learning the tune in Yiling to help Lan Wangji dream better, mornings spent calming Jiang Cheng down whenever his temper flares. Wei Wuxian pours his love into the music, hoping that it will overpower the discordant notes driving Lan Xichen insane.
There is still good in you, too. This is not who you are.
Lan Xichen catches Jin Guangyao again, but when he attacks, Jin Guangyao side-steps him easily, and with a sickening crunch, Shuoyue is driven into Nie Mingjue’s chest instead. 
A flash of darkness, and the strings that Su She had been playing – strings just breaths from Jiang Yanli’s face – snap mid-chord. He himself is knocked back to the ground, eyes going cross-eyed as Lan Wangji presses Bichen close to his nose.
“Go ahead,” sneers Su She. “Kill me.”
“No,” says Lan Wangji, and breaks his legs instead. Su She’s screams catch Jin Guangyao’s attention, whose expression contorts into a mask of fury as he sees Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji on the scene.
“One job!” he snaps, Hensheng flashing as it comes to meet Bichen. “You had one job, Su She!”
Wei Wuxian continues to play, but years of resentment and anger cannot be tamed with just one song. Lan Xichen’s eyes flash as he pulls the sword from Nie Mingjue’s chest, and makes to slash his head off – 
“No!” screams yet another voice, as Lan Jingyi’s sword comes to meet his sect leader’s. “Hanguang-jun, catch!” 
A parcel flies through the air, landing in Lan Wangji’s arms. It’s his guqin, repaired painstakingly by the juniors, imbibed with pure new strings woven by Lan Jingyi himself. Lan Wangji plays, and the melody flows strong and sure, rendering almost everyone in the room into limp relaxation. 
The guqin and the dizi’s songs meld together, until the madness ebbs from Lan Xichen’s eyes and his sword clatters to the ground as he stares in horror at the blood blossoming from his sworn brother’s chest. 
“Da-ge!” he breathes, making to rush to his side, but is blocked by Hensheng’s cruel gleam.
“He deserves this,” spits Jin Guangyao. “He’s hated me all this time, ever since the Sunshot campaign.”
Lan Xichen’s gaze is only sorrowful. “Your hatred has ruined me, xiaodi,” he says, and pushes him out of the way. “I betrayed one brother. I will not betray another.”
Saying that, he presses his hands to Nie Mingjue’s chest, giving him his spiritual energy, trying to heal his wounds. Jin Guangyao’s jaw clenches. Hensheng rears up, flying towards Lan Xichen’s back – 
“Lan Huan!” shouts Lan Wangji.
Shocked, Lan Xichen looks back just in time, and rolls out of the way of the sword that now stabs into nothing but the temple ground. Jin Guangyao pulls the blade back out, but before he could attack again, the temple suddenly begins to shake.
Then Jin Zixuan bursts into the room, eyes white with feral anger.
There are already arrows sticking out of him like a porcupine, suggesting he’d already fought his way through the monks outside. His Sparks Amidst Snow regalia is stained with blood that clearly isn’t his own. With a roar, he lunges for Jin Guangyao, seizing him by the collar.
He’d never been this strong in life before. Being a fierce corpse has made him truly fearless. Despite Jin Guangyao’s best efforts, he can’t escape the corpse’s grasp, and tries instead to whistle, to wheedle, to do anything to try and calm his brother down.
Jin Zixuan, unrelenting, pulls an arm back as if he would plunge it into his brother’s chest and tear out his traitorous heart. But just as he’s about to do so, there’s the sound of barking and rushed footsteps.
“Baba!” shouts Jin Rulan’s voice. 
“Jin Ling!” screams Lan Jingyi, from where he’d been helping Lan Xichen give spiritual energy to Nie Mingjue’s still form. “Jin Ling, no –”
Wei Wuxian screams, too, as Jin Rulan’s spiritual dog comes rushing into the temple. Chenqing clatters to the ground as he leaps into Lan Wangji’s arms, fear and adrenaline coursing through him at the sight of the husky. Seeing that, Jin Rulan whistles an order to his dog, causing Fairy to retreat. 
“Baba,” says Jin Rulan, turning back to face his father. “I told you not to run away.”
The feral corpse of Jin Zixuan pauses, white pupils fading into black. He loosens his grip on Jin Guangyao, which is all the other man needs to kick him down.
“A-Ling, get out of the way!” screams Jiang Yanli, as Jin Ling dives out of the way of his father and uncle, moving to free her from her ropes. Wei Wuxian, too, squirms out of Lan Wangji’s arms, rushing to his shijie’s side.
“Has he hurt you?” he asks her, checking her over for any injuries.
“Nothing that won’t heal,” she replies, rubbing at her chafed wrists. 
Su She makes a token protest, but Lan Wangji merely puts a foot over his neck.
Meanwhile, Jin Guangyao has managed to wrestle down Jin Zixuan, pinning him down and pulling out a banishment talisman from his robes. “Let’s see you come back from this,” he snarls, but before he can slam it onto Jin Zixuan’s head, there’s a sickening slice and a thud.
Nie Mingjue, using the very last bits of his energy, has sliced Jin Guangyao’s arm off. Blood spurts everywhere, as Jin Guangyao stumbles back in wide-eyed shock – 
– onto the sword of Lan Xichen.
Lan Xichen’s eyes go wide. He pulls Shuoyue out in horror, as Jin Guangyao collapses into his arms. His Gusu robes are now more red than blue, more dark than white – a bloodied similarity to Lan Wangji’s own robes. 
“Brother,” gasps Jin Guangyao, clutching onto him with his remaining arm, his fingers feeble, his breaths laboured in pain. “How could you…”
“I –” Lan Xichen’s face shines with tears. “I thought –”
“What did you think?” wonders Jin Guangyao, looking away from him, around the room. Jin Zixuan has recovered, rushing to his wife and son. Lan Wangji still has his foot on Su She’s neck. Lan Jingyi is tending to Nie Mingjue, who has fallen unconscious. “Out of everyone in the world, you were… the only one who saw me with respect. I only ever wanted to help you.”
“I’m sorry,” sobs Lan Xichen. Wei Wuxian wants to slap some sense into him. How could he, even after being faced with proof that Jin Guangyao had done nothing but use his desire for justice to evil ends, apologise like this to him?
Jin Guangyao says nothing more, though. His hand falls slack against Lan Xichen’s arm, his head lolls back. Lan Wangji lowers his gaze, stepping away from Su She’s whimpering, pained form and venturing closer to his brother, Bichen sheathing at his side. 
Lan Xichen looks up at him, tears running down his cheeks. “Lan Zhan,” he says, his voice wavering, “I’m sorry.”
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