Elegant Teasing

A few disciples poled the boats and cast their nets after the dark shadow in the water. From another direction came a shout: “Here too!”

On that side a dark shape flickered through the water as well; several slender boats sped past trailing nets, but caught nothing at all. Wei Wuxian said: “Strange. The shape isn’t human-like. And it keeps changing—long one moment, short the next, now large, now small... Lan Zhan, by your boat!”

On Lan Wangji’s back, Bichen answered with a ringing draw and thrust into the water. Moments later it shot back out with a keen whistle, trailing an arc of spray. It had pierced nothing.

He held his sword, expression solemn, and was about to speak when another disciple beside him sent his longsword flying toward a shadow that darted swiftly through the water.

Yet after his sword entered the water it never emerged again. He chanted the sword formula and tried over and over to summon it back, but nothing answered from the depths. His sword seemed to have been swallowed by the lake, vanished without a trace. This disciple appeared to be a youth around Wei Wuxian’s age; having lost his blade, his face grew paler and paler. An older disciple nearby said: “Su She, we still haven’t identified what’s in the water—why did you presume to send your sword in?”

Su She looked a little panicked but kept his composure: “I saw the Second Young Master also send his sword into the water...”

He hadn’t finished when he realized how presumptuous his words were. Neither Lan Wangji nor Bichen could be measured against ordinary people. Lan Wangji could send his sword into the water against an unknown foe and come to no harm; others might not be so lucky. A blush of shame crept through his pallor, as if he had been insulted, and he shot a glance at Lan Wangji. Lan Wangji did not look at him, but stared intently at the water; a moment later, Bichen left its sheath again.

This time the blade did not plunge in; instead, with a flick of its tip, it flipped a patch of darting shadow up from the bottom. A soaking wet, pitch-black lump landed on the deck with a splat. Wei Wuxian stood on tiptoe for a look: it was a piece of clothing.

Wei Wuxian laughed so hard he almost toppled into the river and said: “Lan Zhan, you’re amazing! This is the first time I’ve seen someone hunting water ghosts and pulling up their clothes instead.”

Lan Wangji merely inspected Bichen’s tip for anything unusual and seemed to have made up his mind not to engage him. Jiang Cheng said: “Shut up. What swam beneath us really wasn’t a water ghost—just a piece of clothing!”

Wei Wuxian had seen it clearly too; he just couldn’t feel right without teasing Lan Wangji a little. He said: “Was it that piece of clothing darting around just now? No wonder the nets couldn’t catch it, the swords couldn’t hit it, and its shape kept changing. But a piece of clothing can’t swallow a cultivator’s sword. There must be something else in this water.”

By this time the boats had drifted to the center of Biling Lake. The water was extremely dark, a deep inky green. Suddenly Lan Wangji raised his head slightly and said: “Turn back at once.”

Lan Xichen said: “Why?”

Lan Wangji said: “The thing in the water deliberately lured the boats to the center of Biling Lake.”

As soon as he spoke, everyone felt the boats sink sharply.

Water rushed into the boats and spread quickly. Wei Wuxian suddenly noticed that the water of Biling Lake was no longer dark green but almost black. Especially near the center, a huge whirlpool had silently formed around them. A dozen or so boats were spinning with it, sinking as they spun, as if being sucked into a giant black mouth!

A chorus of ringing sounds filled the air as swords left their sheaths one after another and the disciples took to the sky on their blades. Wei Wuxian had already risen into the air and looked down. He saw that the boat where Su She, the disciple who had sent his sword into the water, had been standing was already swallowed by Biling Lake. Su She was in the water up to his knees, his face full of terror, but he made no sound—perhaps too frightened to cry out. Without a second thought, Wei Wuxian bent down, reached out, seized his wrist, and pulled him up.

With the extra person, the sword beneath his feet dipped sharply but still continued to rise. Yet before they had risen far, a powerful force suddenly came from Su She’s side, nearly dragging Wei Wuxian off his blade.

Su She’s lower body had already been sucked into the black whirlpool in the lake. The vortex spun faster and faster and his body sank deeper and deeper, as if something lurking underwater was clutching his legs and dragging him down. Jiang Cheng had been standing on Sandu, rising at his leisure to a height of about twenty zhang above the lake. He looked down, flew down in great displeasure, and said: “What are you doing now?!”

The pull from Biling Lake grew stronger and stronger. Wei Wuxian’s sword excelled in lightness and agility, but was weak in raw strength, and it was pressed down almost to the water’s surface. As he steadied himself and held onto Su She with both hands, he shouted: “Someone give me a hand! If I can’t pull him up soon, I’m letting go!”

Suddenly the back of Wei Wuxian’s collar tightened and he was lifted bodily into the air. He turned his head and saw Lan Wangji holding him one-handed by the collar. Though Lan Wangji only gazed indifferently somewhere else, bearing the weight of three people on one sword while contending with the unknown force in the lake, their position still rose, steady and unshaken. Jiang Cheng felt a slight shock: “If I had rushed down to drag Wei Wuxian up on Sandu, I’m afraid I couldn’t have risen so fast or so steadily. Lan Wangji is hardly older than me...”

At that moment Wei Wuxian said: “Lan Zhan, your sword’s really strong, huh? Thanks, thanks, but why are you grabbing my collar? Can’t you just hold onto me? This is really uncomfortable. I’ll reach my hand out to you, you pull me up.”

Lan Wangji said coldly: “I do not touch other people.”

Wei Wuxian said: “We’re so familiar with each other now, how can I still count as ‘other people’?”

Lan Wangji said: “Not familiar.”

Wei Wuxian pretended to be hurt: “How can you be like this...”

Jiang Cheng could not bear it any longer and burst out: “How can YOU be like this!!! When you’re being dangled in midair by your collar, can’t you shut up for just a bit?!”

The group swiftly flew away from Biling Lake on their swords and landed on the shore. Lan Wangji released his right hand from Wei Wuxian’s collar, turned around with perfect composure, and said to Lan Xichen: “It is the Waterborne Abyss.”

Lan Xichen shook his head: “That will be troublesome.”

As soon as the name “Waterborne Abyss” was spoken, Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng understood. The most terrifying thing in Biling Lake and these waterways was not the water ghosts, but the water itself.

In some rivers or lakes, due to topography or currents, shipwrecks and drownings happen often. Over time the waters develop a temperament. Like a pampered young mistress who cannot bear to go without fine clothes and rich food, they demand a cargo ship or a living person be offered into their depths at regular intervals. If none is given, they will stir up trouble to take one themselves.

The people around Caiyi Town were all expert swimmers and rarely did shipwrecks or accidental drownings occur, so a Waterborne Abyss could never have been nurtured here. Since one had appeared, there was only one possibility: it had been driven here from somewhere else.

Once a Waterborne Abyss was formed, the entire body of water became a monster, exceedingly difficult to eliminate. The only way was to drain the water, retrieve every sunken person and object, and expose the riverbed to the sun for three to five years—nearly impossible to achieve. However, there was a selfish method to relieve one’s own troubles for a time: drive it into other rivers and lakes and let it plague somewhere else.

Lan Wangji asked: “Where has been troubled by a Waterborne Abyss recently?”

Lan Xichen pointed to the sky.

He was pointing at nothing else but the sun. Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng exchanged a look and understood: “The Qishan Wen Clan.”

Among the cultivation sects, countless great and small families were scattered like stars. But above them all, there stood one colossal power that towered absolutely over the rest: the Qishan Wen Clan.

The Wen Clan used the sun as their crest, signifying “vying with the sun in brilliance, sharing its eternal span.” Their immortal residence covered an area vast as a city, called Nightless Sky, also known as the “Nightless Immortal Capital.” It was said that there was no night in the city. They were a behemoth because no other family could come close—not in disciples, strength, land, or magical artifacts—and none could rival them. Many cultivators considered it the highest honor to serve as the Wen Clan’s guest advisors. Given the Wen Clan’s style, it was very likely they had driven the Waterborne Abyss here to Caiyi Town.

Though they now knew the source of the water troubles, the group fell silent instead.

If the Wen Clan had done this, no amount of accusation or condemnation would help. First, they would never admit it. Second, there would be no compensation whatsoever.

One disciple said indignantly: “They drove the Waterborne Abyss here, and it’s going to bring disaster on Caiyi Town. If it grows larger and spreads into the town’s waterways, so many people will have to make their living every day on the back of a monster. This is truly...”

Burdened with such a difficult problem dumped on them by others, the Gusu Lan Clan would surely face endless trouble from now on. Lan Xichen sighed: “Enough. Enough. Let’s head back to town.”

They boarded new boats at the ferry crossing and rowed toward the densely populated part of town.

Passing under the arch bridge, the boats entered the waterway, and Wei Wuxian’s antics began again.

He tossed aside his punt pole, planted one foot on the gunwale, and leaned over the water like a mirror to check whether his hair was mussed—entirely unlike someone who had just fought off water ghosts and escaped the jaws of the Waterborne Abyss. With perfect ease, he cast a string of flirtatious glances toward both banks: “Sister, how much for a jin of loquats?”

He was very young and startlingly handsome, and with such dazzling vitality he truly seemed like a frivolous peach blossom chasing after the flowing stream. A woman adjusted her bamboo hat, raised her head with a smile, and said: “Young Master, no need for money—let me give you one for free, how about it?”

Her Wu-accented speech was soft and sticky, pure and sweet. The speaker’s lips and teeth seemed to linger; the listener’s ears seemed filled with fragrance. Wei Wuxian cupped his hands in salute: “If you’re giving it to me, of course I’ll take it!”

The woman reached into her basket, then with a toss sent a round golden loquat flying: “Don’t be so polite—I’m giving it because you look so handsome!”

The boat was moving fast; the two vessels met and immediately scraped past each other. Wei Wuxian turned and caught it perfectly, laughing: “But sister is even more beautiful!”

While he was making a spectacle of himself like scattered blossoms and flitting butterflies, Lan Wangji kept his eyes fixed straight ahead in a display of lofty integrity. Wei Wuxian smugly tossed the loquat in his hand, then suddenly pointed at him: “Sisters, look at him—isn’t he handsome?”

Lan Wangji had never expected that Wei Wuxian would suddenly drag him into it, and he was at a loss for how to respond when the women on the river called out in unison: “Even more handsome!” Mixed in seemed to be the laughter of a few men as well.

Wei Wuxian said: “Well then, who’ll give him one? If you only give to me and not to him, I’m afraid he’ll get jealous and go back to sulk!”

The whole river rippled with the silvery laughter of women. Another woman poled her boat toward them and said: “Alright, alright, take two. Try mine, young master—catch!”

A second one landed in his hand, and Wei Wuxian called out: “Sister, you’re as beautiful as your heart is kind—I’ll come buy from you next time! I’ll buy a whole basket!”

This woman’s voice was bright and clear, and bolder still; she pointed at Lan Wangji: “Tell him to come too—come buy together!”

Wei Wuxian held the loquat up in front of Lan Wangji’s eyes. Lan Wangji stared straight ahead and said: “Take it away.”

Wei Wuxian took it away: “I knew you wouldn’t want it. So I wasn’t planning to give it to you anyway. Jiang Cheng, catch!”

Just then Jiang Cheng skimmed past on another small boat; he caught the loquat with one hand, showed a faint smile, then snorted: “Flirting around again, are you?”

Wei Wuxian, cocky and pleased with himself, said: “Get lost!” Then he turned and asked: “Lan Zhan, you’re from Gusu, so you must speak the local dialect, right? Teach me—how do you curse in Gusu dialect?”

Lan Wangji tossed him a look that said “ridiculous” and boarded another boat. Wei Wuxian hadn’t really expected him to answer; it was only that hearing the people’s soft, coquettish accents amused him, and thinking that Lan Wangji must have spoken like that as a child made it fun to tease him. He tipped his head back and took a swallow of glutinous rice wine, then, clutching the round, shiny black jar, grabbed his punt pole and charged over to hit Jiang Cheng.

Lan Wangji stood shoulder to shoulder with Lan Xichen, and this time even their expressions were somewhat similar—both looked heavy-hearted as they pondered how to deal with the Waterborne Abyss and how to report the many aftermath matters to the head of Caiyi Town.

A heavily laden cargo boat approached from the opposite direction, piled high with basket after basket of heavy golden loquats. Lan Wangji glanced at it, then continued to stare straight ahead.

But Lan Xichen said: “If you want to eat loquats, shall we buy a basket to take home?”

“...”

Lan Wangji swept his sleeve and walked away: “I do not!”

He had moved to yet another boat.