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reinaka42 · 4 months

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Wang Chuan Feng Hua Lu (忘川风华录) Masterpost

Wang Chuan Feng Hua Lu (忘川风华录) is a Vocal synth (Vocaloid and SynthV) music project. It consists of songs themed around different figures throughout Chinese history. The project is a collaboration between different artists and creatives, with music and videos featuring prominent traditional Chinese elements. The project's title translates to "The Records of Magnificence of the Wangchuan" - In Chinese mythology, "Wangchuan" (or River of Forgetting) is a river in the Underworld that can rid one of their past life's memories, similar to the river Lethe.

A mobile game adaptation has also been developed by NetEast. Unfortunately, I haven't played it so I can't give much insight on it. However, I assume that its premise is similar to that of the idea behind the project as a whole: all these historical figures meeting each other in the Underworld after they died. Maybe.

You can find all the songs on Bilibili. The official Weibo can be found here. The game's website, which includes all characters appearing so far in the game, can be found here, and its Weibo can be found here.

(If you prefer YouTube, I've also put together a handy playlist. Please know that most of these videos are reposts though, so please watch the original Bilibili MVs if you can!)

This blog is where I will be posting everything I feel like I need to say about the songs in this project. A lot of it is lifted from my Twitter account but will be in much more detail. Note that I probably won't touch collab songs, or songs that don't focus solely on the project's own characters.

Disclaimer: I do not speak Chinese, nor am I an expert on Chinese history. Therefore, I cannot reliably translate the lyrics to these songs, nor my words should be taken as gospel. I am merely a nerd gushing about my hyperfixation.

Playlist

多情岸【Duo Qing An】 ➼ B link

洛阳怀【Luo Yang Huai】 ➼ B link

易水诀【Yi Shui Jue】 ➼ B link

山河令【Shan He Ling】 ➼ B link

簪花人间【Zhan Hua Ren Jian】 ➼ B link

栖凰【Qi Huang】 ➼ B link

心上秋【Xin Shang Qiu】 ➼ B link

祖龙吟【Zu Long Yin】 ➼ B link

如见青山【Ru Jian Qing Shan】 ➼ B link

竹林间【Zhu Lin Jian】 ➼ B link

天下局【Tian Xia Ju】 ➼ B link

青鸟衔风【Qing Niao Xian Feng】 ➼ B link

木兰行【Mu Lan Xing】 ➼ B link

好字唯之【Hao Zi Wei Zhi】 ➼ B link

不可道【Bu Ke Dao】 ➼ B link

水叙湖风【Shui Xu Hu Feng】 (collab) ➼ B link

是非【Shi Fei】 ➼ B link

风起甘露【Feng Qi Gan Lu】 (collab) ➼ B link

谓剑【Wei Jian】 ➼ B link

万象霜天【Wan Xiang Shuang Tian】 (New Year event song) ➼ B link

千秋梦【Qian Qiu Meng】 ➼ B link

易安难安【Yi An Nan An】 ➼ B link

惊鹊【Jing Que】 ➼ B link

高歌破阵【Gao Ge Po Zhen】 (collab) ➼ B link

不赴【Bu Fu】 ➼ B link

西行【Xi Xing】 ➼ B link

大航海家【Da Hang Hai Jia】 ➼ B link

牡丹乱【Mu Dan Luan】 (collab) ➼ B link

倾国【Qing Guo】 (collab) ➼ B link

相虎【Xiang Hu】 ➼ B link

补天裂【Bu Tian Lie】 ➼ B link

此期盈期【Ci Qi Ying Qi】 (1st anniversary song) ➼ B link

破云来【Po Yun Lai】 ➼ B link

归钓吟【Gui Diao Yin】 ➼ B link

始见千秋【Shi Jian Qian Qiu】 ➼ B link

临川浮梦【Lin Chuan Fu Meng】 ➼ B link

将军行【Jiang Jun Xing】 ➼ B link

妄语人间【Wang Yu Ren Jian】 ➼ B link

数风流【Shu Feng Liu】 (2nd anniversary song) ➼ B link

问剑春秋【Wen Jian Chun Qiu】 ➼ B link

起战令【Qi Zhan Ling】 ➼ B link

人间应又雪【Ren Jian Ying You Xue】 ➼ B link

旷古回响【Kuang Gu Hui Xiang】 ➼ B link

墨隐侠声【Mo Yin Xia Sheng】 ➼ B link

桃源故人【Tao Yuan Gu Ren】 (3rd anniversary song) ➼ B link

*Note: The anniversary songs are probably for the game's anniversaries, as the project itself is more than 5 years old.

Albums

Vol 1: 溯洄【Su Hui】 Includes character songs from Duo Qing An to Zhu Lin Jian. Features human vocals.

Vol 2: 踏浪【Ta Lang】 Includes character songs from Tian Xia Ju to Jing Que.

Vol 3: 数风流【Shu Feng Liu】 Includes character songs from Bu Fu to Wang Yu Ren Jian, an unreleased song titled 燕双归【Yan Shuang Gui】, and the two anniversary songs.

Visual character guide:

#忘川风华录 #wang chuan feng hua lu #wcfhl #chinese music #vocasynth #vocaloid #synthv #vocaloid project #synth v project #synthesizer v #vocal synths #long post #this is the culmination of a 3 year brainrot #i will try my best

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thebiscuiteternal · 2 years

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(no title yet) Day One Prompt: Role-Swap Day Two Prompt: Curse/Ghosts

Reverse-Aged Nies, References to Child Abandonment, Came Back Wrong, References to Canon Character Death, The Inherent Awkwardness of Realizing Your Best Friend’s Brother Is Hot

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Three weeks after his eighth birthday, Nie Mingjue arrives at the Cloud Recesses, escorted by his father's second in command.

Though he knows it's against the rules to spy, Lan Xichen can't resist an eleven-year-old's innate curiosity and peeks around the door frame as shufu talks to the Nie disciple, Jue-di unusually solemn by his side.

"Xichen."

Oops.

Embarrassed, he steps out and starts to bow, but shufu waves it off, looking more concerned by whatever the Nie disciple has told him than annoyed with Xichen's rule breaking. "Nie-gongzi is going to be our guest for the next few days. Please take him and get him settled in a room."

As they walk towards the buildings where visitors are housed, Nie Mingjue is still uncomfortably quiet and withdrawn, eyes on the path below their feet.

"Are you allowed to talk about it?" Lan Xichen finally asks cautiously, well aware of the fact that other sects, like his own, sometimes have situations that Aren’t To Be Discussed with outsiders.

But Nie Mingjue takes in a sharp breath, as if something tightly lodged in his chest has broken loose, then finally raises his head. "I have a brother. An older brother," he clarifies before Lan Xichen can even open his mouth to ask.

Lan Xichen frowns. He doesn't want to imply anything unsavory about Nie Mingjue's father, so he does his best to word what he says next very carefully. "I remember hearing your father and his first wife didn't have any children before she died."

"They had one. That's why she died."

The story comes out in bits and pieces as they leave Nie Mingjue's bag in his temporary room and head out to the back hills where no one will bother them.

Nie-da-furen, it turns out, had died trying to deliver a baby months too soon. The baby in question, tiny and sickly and undoubtedly going to die anyway, had been abandoned outside the walls of the Unclean Realms to prevent the circumstances of his birth (and death) from bringing down bad luck.

And now Nie-zongzhu has come across a very strange and unusual boy wandering the villages north of the Unclean Realms and insists it is that same son.

“Do you think he’s right?”

“I don’t know. I heard a couple of the elders agree with A-die that he looks just like her. And he has green eyes," Nie Mingjue says as he kicks a small rock down the hill.

Lan Xichen doesn't chide him for it, instead focusing on the reasoning as it is being laid out.

Simply resembling Nie-da-furen wasn't proof all on its own. But unusual eye colors were frequently indicative of a parent with a high spiritual power, and Nie-da-furen had been a woman from outside the cultivational world.

And green specifically…

"So... if your father's sure this boy is his, and some of the others think so too… then why-"

"A-die wanted me somewhere safe while they test to find out if he's even human. Some of the other elders think he might be some new kind of ghost or monster out to trick us."

Oh. That was... unfortunately also a possibility, Lan Xichen thought. The Nie sect in particular had gained some enemies among the more intelligent varieties of resentful creatures, and taking advantage of the memory of a lost child would be a good tactic.

"Did you get to meet him?" he asks instead of mentioning any of that.

"They didn't let me get close enough to talk to him. But I did get to see him, and if he's some kind of super powerful monster, he sure doesn't look like it," Nie Mingjue says, finally finding a place he wants to sit and sinking down onto the grass. "A-die said he should be almost fourteen, but he's only barely head and shoulders taller than me and a lot skinnier."

He kicks his feet out and flops back onto the grass and Lan Xichen bites back a smile at the way he's all starfished out, then moves to sit beside him.

"I don't know if I want a brother or not," Nie Mingjue admits after a long while of the both of them just watching the clouds. "I hope he gets to stay. I hope he goes away. It's stupid."

"It's not stupid," Lan Xichen says, reaching out and giving his friend's hand a comforting squeeze. "I don't think I'd be any less confused if I was in your spot."

"Zhan-er would. He'd have bitten him already."

Lan Xichen can't stop himself from snorting. "You're never going to let that go, are you?"

"Never. Or at least not until my core's strong enough to make the scars go away."

—

It is halfway through the fourth day of Nie Mingjue's visit that they get word from the Nie sect.

The brother, they have determined, was fully human once, but isn’t anymore, and they still aren't exactly sure what he is.

"So... what's gonna happen to him?" Nie Mingjue asks hesitantly, trying to hide the way his hands twist his robes anxiously by keeping them under the table.

Lan Qiren tugs on his beard, expression unreadable, then folds the letter closed and lays it down. "The sect does not want to take the risk of letting him roam free, but they feel putting him down will constitute an even bigger risk," he says.

Lan Xichen can follow the logic. A dying baby came back as... whatever he is now. Who's to say trying to get rid of him a second time won't bring him back as something even worse, and with an axe to grind on top of that?

"Therefore, it has been decided he will be sealed in the old sword hall."

Nie Mingjue flinches, face going through a complicated series of emotions, then nods. "Okay," he says to Lan Qiren, but as he and Lan Xichen go to get his things, he is scowling as he softly mutters "I hate this."

"Mm?"

"Dead or locked up in a dusty old unused hall. What a choice. It's not fair."

"Your father did vote against both... maybe you'll be allowed to visit," Lan Xichen offers.

Neither of them bring up his own parents.

Neither of them need to.

—

He doesn't get to see much of his friend for quite some time.

Within half a year of their last meeting, Nie-zongzhu’s life ends in a fashion that is as unexpected as it is gruesome-

-”We know who is responsible,” the letter reads, stress and grief and anger practically leaking from the tersely slashed characters, “and it wasn’t Sang-ge.”-

-and Nie Mingjue is being subjected to an urgent and much accelerated political training regimen to prepare him for taking the sect leader’s seat far sooner than originally anticipated.

They barely have the time to trade letters, let alone meet in person, until shufu agrees to take him along to the Unclean Realms for the other boy’s fourteenth birthday.

“What’s all that for?” Lan Xichen asks as he watches Nie Mingjue gather up a tray of uneaten snacks from the banquet tables and a jar of rice wine.

“I’m going to let him out. But first he needs to eat.”

“Let who-” Lan Xichen’s eyes go wide as he realizes. “Won’t you get in trouble for that?”

“Not anymore,” Nie Mingjue replies flatly, turning to leave the main hall, and Lan Xichen catches up to fall into step with him. “After how the last conference went, and that murder attempt a month ago, even the elders who originally voted for death agree I’m gonna need all the strong allies I can get. And Sang-ge may not be loyal to the sect, but he’s loyal to me.”

The passage they end up in is cut deep into the side of the mountain, the lack of windows made up for with ambient energy-drawing torches, an old Nie design from back when the underground rooms were originally being constructed.

Coming to a stop in front of a large iron door, Nie Mingjue hands him the tray, then grabs the heavy knocker.

The sound of it echoes and dies down, then there is a responding click from somewhere inside the metal and Nie Mingjue sweeps away the glowing wards before dragging the door open.

The torch lighting inside the chamber is dim, but there's enough of it that Lan Xichen can see shelves of books and scrolls and dozens on dozens of paintings and sketches hanging up on the walls.

"Who did all these?" he asks, examining them curiously.

"He did. Not like he's got much else to do in here," Nie Mingjue replies as he takes the tray back and heads for the table in the middle of the hall. "Sang-ge! I brought a guest this time. He’s my friend, so be nice."

Lan Xichen gets a sudden, sharp chill up his spine as a shadowy figure in a cloak made of long black feathers just appears next to Nie Mingjue between one blink and the next, but when the mysterious Sang-ge turns and gives him a politely welcoming smile and a gracefully sweeping bow, it's not fear that makes his breath stick in his throat.

He has heard all the old tales of unwary cultivators snared by the elegant beauty of monsters in human form.

Nie Mingjue insists his brother is not evil, and Lan Xichen believes him.

But the way his heart is racing might mean he’s in deep trouble anyway.

#nie mingjue #lan xichen #nie huaisang #xisang #xisangweek2022 #fanfic #mdzs #still not sure bout this one but im tired of editing it

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swiftletinthecloud · 1 year

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Wang Yan and Emperor Wang Xuan showing up when all the fun is over with 10 minutes left of the last episode 😆 I mean, they had their own fun on the war front but, you know... lol

Also we got Chen Chou and the soldier guy’s reactions to Zhang Ping’s plan to get himself stabbed, and I know we were kind of busy with the action, but I also want to know the others’ reactions to Zhang Ping’s plan to get himself stabbed.

Going slightly backward a little, but not going to lie, the way that Lan Jue is such a well-done flawed character where we saw him willing to go dark and against his morals to accomplish his goal to clear his father’s name before that when he sided with Gu Qing Zhang over Zhang Ping after the stabbing of the “empress,” there were definitely a moment of uncertainty of “is this really happening” that kept me on the edge of my seat.

Sucks that they couldn’t really have the Empress’s evil crimes on record without the why she did it and go back to the switched princes reason since that would lead to chaos. So while the truth of what happened to Moulou Village and Lan Jue’s dad is out, it also was like muddled with the need to cover it up to keep peace. At least the important people that needed to know and be at peace with their truths knew.

Also, the fact that Gu Qing Zhang and Zhang Ping grew up with each other as brothers for a few years yet we only got 2 scenes with any real emotional moments between them (when Zhang Ping came back to the capital after learning the truth about his past and when Gu Qing Zhang thought Zhang Ping died) is a shame. I want to know Gu Qing Zhang's thoughts and reactions after seeing his adoptive brother again for the first time and realizing he wasn't the only survivor of the red mist over their village. I want to know more of Zhang Ping's reactions after he remembered his past, more than just a passing comment of "oh I remember I had an older brother who likes to read and didn't play with me as much."

The drama is beautiful. The plot and mysteries are tight and the pace’s good. All the characters are likeable and understandable. The characters’ interactions with each other are also A++ Cinematography is also gorgeous. I do wish it was a little longer so that we could have sat with some of the moments some more or dove into some of the interactions and development deeper.

#liveblogging #cdrama #a league of nobleman #spoilers #ep 27-29 #zhang ping #lan jue #wang yan #wang xuan #chen chou #gu qing zhang

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marquisguyun · 4 months

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Hi it's your secret santa 👋I love that some of your fav dramas for this year are also mine "The Blood of Youth, A League of Nobleman, Mysterious Lotus Casebook." Do you have a particular fave character or dynamics in those dramas?

Hello!! Lol, looks like the mods did a good job of matching us (and also you have good taste 😉)

Here are some of my favorites:

The Blood of Youth

My favorite character in this show is Tang Lian! I also got unexpectedly attached to Xiao Chong (and I totally called him becoming emperor lol)

I also really love the like,, main gang (Xiao Se, Lei Wujie, Tang Lian, Sikong Qianluo, Ye Ruoyi) especially as a group (doesn't have to be the whole group)

I'm not super interested in any romances for this drama, canon or otherwise, and I'm also not as into Wuxin (altho I don't hate him or anything!)

A League of Nobleman

If I had to pick one character it'd be Zhang Ping. I really like Wang Mowen too tho

As far as dynamics between characters go, I'm definitely a huge polyshipper for this show lol... Like my ideal polycule here is Zhang Ping/Lan Jue/Wang Mowen with Gu Qingzhang as Lan Jue's ex, the Emperor as Zhang Ping's boyfriend, and Chen Chou either as Zhang Ping's queerplatonic partner or his boyfriend. (I viewed Zhang Ping and Chen Chou as super close but platonic when watching it originally, but I don't have super strong feelings about that.)

All of that said, you don't need to feel like you have to include the whole polycule in anything you make for me! Feel free to focus in on any part of it that you may ship or want to create for. (You also don't have to actually state that anyone is together, I'm good with Vibes.)

I just wanted to give you the context of my preferred dynamic! Maybe avoid like "one true soulmate" type talk for this particular show? But I'm a generally a multishipper who can enjoy all kinds of conflicting ships separately, so don't feel too pressured about this, I'm sure whatever you're inspired to make would be great!

Mysterious Lotus Casebook

Li Lianhua, Fang Duobing, and Di Feisheng. I am just very invested in whatever the hell the three of them have going on. Or any two of them, your pick! Platonic or romantic is fine, I'd take either... Also down for any of the three on their own

Alternatively, I thought the Li Lianhua & Yun Biqiu little side plot was interesting!

#mysterious lotus casebook #the blood of youth #a league of nobleman #sorry this got so long lol #I would be equally as happy to get something for any of these shows #ALON just has a more complicated answer than the others #also i mostly answered about ships but i'm always down for platonic relationships #hope this helps you!

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erotica-hooligan · 1 year

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last ten opening lines

stolen from @iamwestiec

All these are rated e, you were warned! 5 and 6 were written for charity!

Mowen thinks of himself as a simple person with easily satisfied desires. - Grateful, League of Nobleman, Mowen/Lan Jue

2. A-Zhan's skin is so cold that it burns when Lan Huan wraps his hand around his wrist and gently pulls his didi up from the snow. - This Heavy Joy, MDZS (Jadecest)

3. Jin Guangyao picks up the kids from a club that none of them should be at. - Good Girl's Don't, CQL (Xiyao/Jin Ling)

4. Wen Ning hums to himself as he unlocks the door to the apartment he shares with Wei Ying and Lan Zhan. - Intricate, CQL (Wen Ning/Lan Huan, Wangxian/Wen Ning, tons of background incest)

5. Meng Yao stares at the almost empty closet in her studio apartment, mentally sorting through her wardrobe. - Brat, CQL (3Zun, Nieyao Centric)

6. Sometimes stepping away from the table feels like a migraine aura. - Melt, Critical Role RPF, Matt/Marisha

7. "Xichen, I adore you, but can you indulge in your holding kink later? I don't want to stop a million times," Mingjue says, impatience coloring his voice, as he pulls into the gas station parking lot. - More Normal Than Not, CQL (NieLan)

8. It's a strange night around the game table when Mingjue's character dies. - i don't need anyone but you're not anyone, CQL (Niecest)

9. Qin Su stretches her legs across Jin Guangyao's lap and sighs heavily. - this and that of you, CQL (JGY/Qin Su, with Xichen lurking in the background)

10. They go to the movies. - Waterworks, CQL (Lesbian Xiyao)

#my fic

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canolove · 3 years

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Yu ‘Esther’ Shu Xin as Xiao Lan Hua

Wang ‘Dylan’ He Di as Dongfang Qingcang

Xu ‘Joe’ Hai Qiao as Rong Hao

Guo ‘Cristy’ Xiao Ting as Chi Di Nu Zi

Zhang Ling He as Chang Heng

Lin ‘Charles’ Bai Rui as Shang Que

Wang ‘Hachi’ Yue Yi as Dan Yin

Hong Xiao as Jie Li

Zhang Chen Xiao as Yi Feng

New character posters for upcoming CDrama ‘Cang Lan Jue’ {{苍兰诀}}

(April 2021)

©️ tto

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curiosity-killed · 4 years

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a bow for the bad decisions: Chapter 10

prev | start | next

(on ao3)

Wei Wuxian.

We’ve been waiting, Wei Wuxian.

Do you remember, Wei-gongzi?

You can’t control it, Wei Wuxian.

You promised.

You promised, Wei-gongzi.

Wei Wuxian.

Let us out.

Let us out, Wei Wuxian.

Don’t you want to?

Wei Wuxian.

Wei Wuxian

Wei Wuxian.

It’s time.

Half-spectral, ash grey—

“Wei-gongzi, please.” Blood on his teeth, an open grave empty of bones— Revenge— Don’t you want revenge? Wen Chao laughing, sneering; Wen Chao trembling, peeling his own skin off in bloody strips. “Do you know what it’s like to starve, Wen-er-gongzi? Do you know what hunger tastes like?” Tears running hot as fresh blood, broken fingers closing around a seething hilt. Resentment cuts through him, splinters bone and tatters veins. His heart thumps hollow with the two-beat rhythm of revenge. “Wei-gongzi, please, you need to calm yourself.” Calm yourself. Restrain yourself. Chenqing hissing under his hand. Of course they can attack him as they please, but when it comes to protecting himself, he must hold back, curb his strength. How fragile they are, these all-mighty gentry. How thin their pride, how feeble their strength. The crack of bone breaking, a punched-out gasp. A valley of undead swarming two golden sparks. Jin Zixuan swaying, surprise breaking bloody over his lips. “A-Li—” Wei Wuxian comes to in the feeble light of candles. A tear slips hot down his cheek and he doesn’t let himself brush it away. How obscene, how wrong, to feel sorrow when he’s the one who’s brought this down on all of them. He is the architect of their ruin and he has the gall to weep? Absurd. He’s been lying to all of them, pretending he’s anything but a weapon, trying to hide his sharp edges under the swaddling of smiles and laughter. As if he could ever be anything but what he made himself. He’s a demon with a smile, a curse in human skin. “Why?” he asks. “Why him? You could have killed anyone else — why did you have to kill him?” He sits up, somewhere outside of his body. Nothing hurts anymore. All those aches and old breaks have been replaced. Reverse ossification, where once was bone is nothing more than resentment, dark hunger swallowing him whole. He understands. His body is not his own. His hands close around Wen Ning’s collars, clenching the fabric as if to tear it off or fling Wen Ning away. Wen Ning puts up no resistance, uses none of that terrible strength Wei Wuxian forced onto him. “Why did you kill him?” he demands. “Why did it have to be him? What is shijie supposed to do now? What am I supposed to do?” “I’m sorry,” Wen Ning bursts out. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, it’s my fault.” Wei Wuxian stumbles back, releasing him. Wen Ning is a weapon. Wen Ning is a blade in careless hands. He drags his fingers back through his hair, digs his nails into his scalp. “What am I supposed to do? Why did I choose this path?” he mutters, begs. “What on earth should I do? Who can tell me?” His nails bite into his scalp, blades of pressure against his skull. His body hums, sings, is brought to life with his grief and rage. Black sand scrapes through fragile capillaries. “What can I do?” he wails. “Who can tell me what I’m supposed to do?” Slipping down his skull, his hands clench around his hair, tugging, before they drop to fists at his sides. His own voice falls dead on the cave walls. There is no one here to guide him. He is alone, utterly and wholly by his own making. “Wei-gongzi?” Wen Ning’s voice is so tentative, hesitant and fearful. Fair, he thinks. Fitting. He remembers only snatches of the pass; he remembers enough. Fear, anger, blood, his own will rising like the tide and drowning out Wen Ning’s, the current dragging him under. Wen Ning had only ever wanted to be a cultivator and a medic, to make his sister proud and help his family. He’s only a kid — only nineteen when he died and only nineteen forever, trapped in a slipshod eternity. Wei Wuxian had thought he was helping when he did it — or was that only another lie he told them? He can’t remember his thoughts at the time, can only recall anger and grief and thrumming, screaming power. This is his own disaster. No one can fix this. His grief and panic cool, solidify like iron dropped in a bucket by the forge. Tempered, honed, he steadies. “Wei-gongzi, there is a message from Yunmeng. It came the night before last.” Wen Ning’s eyes are wide and worried; he watches closely even as he extends the arrow on shaking hands. Wei Wuxian takes it, and the spelled shaft unfurls into a small, tight scroll. He recognizes Yu Bujue’s hand, and before he has even read the first character, he knows the naïve hope that is to follow. ‘Da-shixiong, there will be an attack the day after tomorrow. All the sects have pledged forces.’ How innocent of a-Jue to think this warning would be either news or helpful. He’s always been like that, just enough younger to always seem a child even when he was fighting beside them in a war. Of course the sects are coming. Wei Wuxian has killed the heir of the Chief Cultivator himself. There is no other path they could take. “Perhaps if — if I turned myself in,” Wen Ning suggests. Wei Wuxian shoots a sharp look his way, silencing him. Wei Wuxian has done this. He started all of it, and he puppeted Wen Ning in the pass. He will not let another take his punishment. “No,” he says, straightening. He can feel the resentment now more than ever. It distorts his edges, blurs the boundary of his skin. His heart no longer pulses for his own blood but to set a steady beat for the burn-song replacing his veins. Every movement is a half-conscious command, a sequence of notes directing his limbs as Chenqing leads ghosts and ghouls. “No,” he says. “Leave. Go anywhere away from here, but do not turn toward the sects. There is a desert far to the north. Go there, go to the mountains, to the sea, but do not ever turn back here.” “Wei-gongzi—” Wen Ning protests. His dark eyes are wide and fearful. Wei Wuxian turns to him, crumpling the talisman scroll in his hand. Wen Ning’s throat bobs once before he squares his shoulders and faces Wei Wuxian stubbornly. “Wei-gongzi, I cannot leave my family,” he says. “I can’t leave you to face the sects alone. I did it, I was the one who attacked. Let me help you.” Help? What help will he bring but his own destruction? Does he really think there is any way Wei Wuxian will walk away from this? The end is here. There is no escape from the encroaching night. “If you won’t go on your own, I can make you,” Wei Wuxian says. His voice comes out cool and even, and Wen Ning flinches back. Wei Wuxian has always promised that Wen Ning was his own person, wasn’t a puppet, wasn’t just a tool. He’s made a lot of promises over the years. “Wei-gongzi—” Wen Ning starts, taking an uncertain step forward. “Wen Qionglin, leave this place,” Wei Wuxian orders. “Leave and never look back. I don’t need Chenqing to command you.” Some part of Wen Ning still seems to protest; his gaze searches Wei Wuxian’s face, begging, pleading. Wei Wuxian meets it, flat and uncaring. He promised Wen Qing he’d keep him safe. He owes them too much to do anything else. If Wen Ning will not save himself, Wei Wuxian will give him no choice. Wen Ning takes a faltering step backward. His face is so still, but there’s the faintest start of a frown. If he were alive, he’d be crying already. Wei Wuxian holds himself tight and still, strings pulled taut through the hollows of his bones. Wen Ning’s hands are shaking as he brings them before him, bowing low and solemn. “I’m sorry, Wei-gongzi,” he says and his voice trembles. Wei Wuxian doesn’t watch him leave, but he can feel it; the threads still connecting them, thin and stubborn, stretching farther away. He’ll feel it when Wei Wuxian dies. He’ll know when he’s free. Now, Wei Wuxian turns to his work. There are forty-eight of them living here. With Wen Qing and Wen NIng gone, that leaves forty-five villagers to protect. He doesn’t need to factor himself in, doesn’t need to calculate his own protections. That cause has long been lost. Everything is thinner, sharper-edged. He flickers on the threshold between realms, yin energy replacing his blood and bone. It scours the backs of his ribs, bites into the soft tissue still lingering like meat that hasn’t yet rotted from the bone. There were lessons Jiang Cheng took alone growing up, as sect heir, ones where Wei Wuxian would wait outside the hall and then talk them over with Jiang Cheng when he emerged. The duties of the Head Disciple weren’t limited to teaching, after all, even if that had always been his favorite. An attack on the Burial Mounds, on the Yiling laozu, will warrant full forces from all the sects. Now, he sketches rough estimates of the army coming for his head and prepares. The Jin sect will be the greatest force, both because they are the most offended and the most powerful. Next, the Nie sect — martial and brutal as their sabers. The Lan sect will hold back a little, still nursing wounds from the burning of Cloud Recesses; like Yunmeng Jiang, they haven’t fully replenished their numbers. He draws in a steadying breath. Yunmeng Jiang will bring the smallest force, but they won’t be able to winnow their numbers in his favor without risking the sect itself. They will come to fight, even if they don’t want to. He calls up disciples’ faces, draws up his shidis and shimeis, Yu Bujue and the new swordmaster Cao Xingtao. He pictures Jiang Cheng. The Burial Mounds have always liked him, ever since they tugged him down the first time. It reminds him a little of the lakes of Yunmeng, how he’d been able to feel the living energy swirling and flowing around them. The lakes had always pulled to him like the tides, ebbing and flowing, giving and releasing. Every Jiang disciple knows the harmonies of the waters, recognizes the disturbances caused by common problems: water ghouls, drowned spirits, and the like. The Burial Mounds are not so forgiving. The dead do not love by halves: they are made of hunger, of want. He’d bartered and bargained and dealed the first time to make them let him walk away. They’d resented having to give him up even temporarily, jealously clinging to this new song he composed from their screams. There are no concessions this time. He will not walk away. They give back fully, energy rushing up to greet him with seething delight. The qin-wire strings of his existence resonate with the force. There are no more lines between them anymore. He is the Seal is Chenqing is him. The Burial Mounds open up and welcome him. He cuts into his palm and begins painting. The array will be a focal point, the center of his force. The parched stone soaks in the scarlet of his blood, the thick lines spreading into the cracks of the rock. He chooses carefully, selecting with intent. Amplification, exclusion, repulsion. He is his own arsenal; he arrays his forces in the patterns of talismans and wards. With each cut, each stroke, he feels the resentment take firmer root. A spreading snarl of roots knotting through his chest, wrapping around and cracking open bones. The voices are louder now, shrill screams echoing in his ears as if reverberating through his own hollow shell. A bitter wind scourges his skin as the Burial Mounds opens itself to his crooked hands. “Wei-gongzi?” Popo and Uncle Six stand side by side, shoulders curled as if they’re only barely keeping themselves from cowering. Popo’s veiny hands shake where they’re clasped before her ribs. “Wei-gongzi, how can we help?” Uncle Six asks. They are so frail before him, so small and fragile. He can feel their qi, dull and quiet against the raging resentment all around them. Only the faintest brushes of yin energy shadow their own souls; they are peaceful people, gentle. They don’t have that shuddering quake to their bones. “Go inside,” he says. “Close the doors and do not open them. No matter what you hear, do not come outside.” Uncle Six swallows, shaggy brows furrowing as if in worry or perhaps fear. Popo reaches out a shaking hand but pulls back before touching his sleeve. “Wei-gongzi,” she says gently, “your eyes…” Her hand creeps back to curl close to her chest. He does not feel regret. They should have known from the beginning, should have been better warned of the monster walking among them. Wen Ning was never the one to fear. “Go inside,” he says. There’s a long hesitation before, finally, they give little bobbing nods. He can feel the rest of them watching, the uneasy shuffle into their hard won homes. The houses are small and flimsy, put together with hard work and meager materials. There are no wards that can make the dark wood stone, but he can seal them once they’re closed. It will be something at least, a barricade of broken table legs. The sects have their swords and spiritual weapons, but they can still bleed. A hundred thousand needle pricks can drain an elephant. Drawing out the Seal, he picks up Chenqing and begins to play. The screaming night of the Burial Mounds and the yin energy of the Seal have always been of two different fabrics. They share the common thread of resentment, but they’ve been woven in separate ways. Where the Burial Mounds is raw, unfinished grief and rage, the Seal is refined and condensed, a purer form of resentment. Ghosts and spirits are drawn up from their shallow graves in the Mounds; the Seal gives power with nothing but corrosion tagging along. Chenqing sings for them, drawing and plaiting them together. She hums with this overload of energy, this sudden flood soaking into her wards and walls. She was forged here, too; she carries the Burial Mounds in her edges the same way he does. The boundary is reinforced, then new walls of protections pulled up. He plays new seals into being and builds up walls of the living dead. The spirits echo his own music, and the notes reverberate through the Seal. Each passage, each resounding chorus, strengthens and solidifies the spells. “Xian-gege?” The voice is thin and frightened as it interrupts Chenqing’s dirge. Playing out the last notes of the spell, he lowers the flute and turns. A-Yuan stands at the edge of the array, his little shoes just shy of the blood. A paper butterfly is clutched tight to his chest, wings crumpled in his small fist. “Xian-gege?” he says again. “A-Yuan,” he says, lowering Chenqing. It takes him a moment to recall the name, to draw up the identity of the child before him. The resentment stirs, uneasy at this interruption, but recedes enough for him to reach out a hand. “A-Yuan, why are you outside?” The doors have already been sealed, blood painted in tight arrays along the walls. He could feel the huddled bodies behind them, the fear marinating in their four walls. “Xian-gege, I’m scared,” a-Yuan says, tears bright in his eyes. He can feel it, sublimating off his little frame. He’s not steeped in it, but it’s wound into the young fibers of his core. Resentment in the form of his arms circles around a-Yuan, pulls him up to rest on his hip. The boy nestles in close, his heart racing rabbit-like under his skin. He can’t feel his warmth anymore; there’s a gap between sensation and his soul now, the chasm filled by the prickling dark. “Xian-gege, will you sing for me?” “Of course,” he says. He hums as he walks, a melody untouched by the writhing anger around them. It rises from deep inside him, slips between the shadows of his shattered soul. The spirits do not touch this song, do not attempt to echo its refrain. This is his his his. It is a last bloom on a mountain of ash. They will not taint it. A-Yuan hums along, holding tight to his collars. He’s so little still, small for his age and always skinny. They’d given him extra portions whenever they could, everyone slipping something off their plate for his, but even still, there has only ever been so much to go around. Now, he fits easily in Wei Wuxian’s arms and hardly weighs anything at all. “I need you to be good, a-Yuan,” he says. There’s an old tree at the edge of the clearing in which they made their fragile home. Black rope-work scars it, and the bark peels back from the gash of the lightning strike. It’s an old wound in an ancient tree, and the edges have been worn smooth by wind and rain. “A-Yuan will be good for Xian-gege,” the boy promises solemnly. He offers up a smile, hopeful, even as his big brown eyes are dark and worried. Settling him up in the hollow, Wei Wuxian smooths back his mussed hair. “Be good and stay quiet,” he says. A-Yuan bobs his head in a nod. His little hands fold tight around the butterfly, clutching it close to his chest. “And a-Yuan,” Wei Wuxian says, “don’t look. I need you to promise me.” There are tears gathering in his eyes, his brows pinching toward each other in distress. Wei Wuxian cups his cheek with his palm. “Xian-gege, are you going away?” he asks. Wei Wuxian swallows, hums an affirmation around the knot in his throat. It was easier moments ago, when he was alone in the storm welling up inside him. So much resentment has threaded itself through his skin that he hardly remembered who he was if not an extension of the hurt and rage of this place. “Xian-gege, please don’t leave,” a-Yuan says, fat tears welling up and breaking. “Please don’t leave. I’ll be good, Xian-gege, I’ll be really good.” “Mm.” Wei Wuxian clears his throat and leans a-Yuan’s head forward to brush a kiss to his forehead. “It will all be alright, a-Yuan. I promise.” “You’ll come back?” Such a small voice, already breaking. Wei Wuxian settles him, smooths flyaway hairs where they’ve slipped from the tie. It’s only one more lie. “I’ll come back,” he says. “But you have to promise you’ll be quiet and you won’t look. Alright, a-Yuan?” After another tremulous pause, a-Yuan nods. “A-Yuan promises,” he says. A smile flickers on Wei Wuxian’s lips, shaking even as he suppresses it. It’s quick work to ward the tree, to seal it against the coming attack. Cruelty, even in this — to imprison the boy in an unmarked tomb. Perhaps his spirit will forgive him. He’s always been a kind boy, quick to forget his own tears. It’s too much to hope for, but it’s the smallest wish he can make. Perhaps, in another life, he’ll have the chance to say ‘I’m sorry.’ For this life, there is only so much he can do. Turning from the tree, he walks back to the center of the clearing and raises Chenqing once more. There are still a few loose ends, unraveled edges of wards. The corpses shuffle closer to the edges, congregating on the border toward Lanling. The Seal, still halved, hangs suspended at his sides. It hums, all hunger and thirst. Its filigree burns, rings with the white-hot heat of want. Sibilant words sing out from it, memories and reminders of the power that it holds. All he has to do is fit both sides together, slot them into place, let the power flood him. How strong they’d be if only he let them. He holds off. Perhaps some stubborn hope still lingers where he thought he’d drowned it. Maybe it’s Jiang Cheng’s insistence that they can figure it out; maybe it’s shijie’s assurance that the three of them will be together. He doesn’t really want to die, even if he knows he’s long past living. If he connects the two halves, it will be surrendering any hope of return; he will be lost in a way even death can’t fix. He’s been planning to destroy the Seal for so long, he knows the process by heart. If he can only get through this — if he can just hold off the sects and keep the Wens safe — then he’ll break it apart. He’ll be done. At least he’ll be able to do that one last good thing. He just has to hold on a little longer, dig his fingernails in and cling to his fraying control. There’s a ping against the wards, the first sign of an approach. It hums through him like the echo of qin strings in a cave. Reverberating through his chest, it’s caught and overwhelmed by the tearing sensation as the wards are broken. Pressure mounts, spiritual energy a rising crescendo against the seething resentment called up around them.

Closing his eyes, he lifts Chenqing and begins.

#mdzs #cql #the untamed #untamed fic #wei wuxian #burial mounds #my writing

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dreamingsushi · 4 years

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The Untamed - Episode 36

So Lan Zhan got drunk with that little amount of alcohol. No wonder, since he never drank in his life except that time he made him drink. Cute memories. There’s a least something Wei Ying remembers. Probably not exactly Lan Zhan wishes he was remembering though.

And here’s another beautiful scene. This drama is so aesthetic at some point, it gives me chills. Wei Ying is in the rain playing the flute. I have no idea where they filmed for that city, but it’s so so so beautiful. Wei Ying actually called for Wen Ning to come. Or was it not on purpose? He looks almost surprised to see him. But mostly in pain. He must feel so sad for what he has done. But then he realizes Wen Ning doesn’t recognize him. The person that kept him alive need to take away his consciousness to better control him. So Wei Ying looks carefully and find pins in his head.

IT IS SO DISGUSTING WHEN HE TAKES IT OUT. Wen Ning looks in so much pain. Poor little one. I think out of all the characters of that drama, he’s the one that gets the more tortured. They never leave him alone. Such big needles in his head. And I hate needles so much. Anyways, at least he becomes himself again and explains what happened. But he doesn’t remember much after going to Yilintai.

Even after all these years, Wen Ning asks for forgiveness again. Then Wei Ying wants to go back to the guest house to borrow bichen and cut the chains restraining Wen Ning but... oopsie. Lan Zhan is out and not sleeping anymore. Wei Ying uses his hands to tell Wen Ning to leave, but actually, Lan Zhan is still way too drunk.

On their way to go back to the guest house, Wei Ying loses his way and they pass by a house. Lan Zhan decides to get in and directly goes to the chicken coop and takes chickens out, handing them to Wei Ying. It’s a gift for him hawww. And that moment when he asks “fei bu fei?” (literally means “fat or not?”) with that serious face. That was priceless. I was waiting for that moment. I laughed so loudly. It’s a relief I live alone... my parents would have killed me for waking them up so late! Oops!

Oh god. He even wrote his name on the wood outside the house. It says “Lan Wangji came here”. Then as they get away, Wei Ying makes Lan Zhan wait outside. He carved something too: “Wei Wuxian also came here”. That’s so sweet. We are just missing the heart around it now haha!

When they get back at the guesthouse, someone was in there room trying to get the pouch they are travelling which (I believe inside is the sword). Even though he’s very drunk, Lan Zhan fights with him and Wei Ying notices that person is really familiar with Lan Zhan’s sword techniques. The intruder manages to leave without them being able to identify him.

Wei Ying uses the time that Lan Zhan is drunk to ask questions. Finally he asks why Lan Zhan is helping him and he says that’s because he regrets not being by his side at Buyetian. Wei Ying looks so moved. Then Lan Zhan goes to bed.

Wei Ying dreams of the time he fell down Luanzanggang, he looks so unwell from that nightmare. Poor baby.

Lan Zhan doesn’t remember anything from the previous night, except for the intruder. Wei Ying talks about how weird it is for that person to have covered his weapon so as people would recognize it: it’s probably a weapon name that people know of and he was very familiar with the fighting techniques of Lan. He asks if it couldn’t be a person from the Lan, but Lan Zhan is sure it is not. Anyways, that person is probably related to the person that killed Nie Ming Jue. So they decide to leave as soon as possible.

The sword leads them to Yi City. People don’t come from there neither go there. The city is filled with fog and they can’t see very well. When they here something running, they chase it, only to bump into the younger ones, Jin Ling, Sizhui and cie. They fight a little about Wei Ying’s donkey and Jin Ling’s dog. Lan Zhan uses his forbidding speaking spell.

Then some Kuilei, super fast kuilei come and attack. If not for Lan Zhan they would have died. Then the same person that came in their room tries to steal a pouch from Wei Ying and Lan Zhan starts fighting with. GO LAN ZHAN. When that person escapes, Lan Zhan follow him. Wei Ying is worried that Lan Zhan hurt himself but he still has to lead the way for the younger ones. Especially that those who were touched by the powder. They are infected and must not move too much.

They get into a house and Wei Ying notices really quickly that the owner is already a kuilei.

Oh. It’s already finished? Well I guess it’s time to sleep!

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