Yangyang the Fifth

The din came from all directions.

Front and back, left and right, above his head and below his feet — it was like an ocean of hushed whispers, rustling and giggling. Men and women, old and young, adults and children; Wei Wuxian could even make out fragments of words, but they vanished in an instant, too fleeting for him to grasp.

It was simply far too noisy.

Wei Wuxian kept one hand pressed to his temple, while the other drew from his qiankun pouch an Evil-Detecting Compass, just small enough to rest in the palm of his hand. The compass needle quivered and circled twice, then circled faster and faster, until in no time at all it began spinning madly!

Last time on Mount Dafan, the Evil-Detecting Compass had failed to point in any direction, already a strange occurrence. But this time it actually spun on its own, never stopping for a moment — a phenomenon even more baffling than a needle that stayed perfectly still.

The shadow of foreboding in Wei Wuxian's heart grew thicker, and he called out: 'Jin Ling!'

The two had been walking inside the Stone Fortress for a while already, but had seen no trace of a living soul. Wei Wuxian called out a few times, but no answer came. The first few stone chambers were all empty, but after they had advanced deeper, suddenly one chamber had a pitch-black coffin placed at its centre.

The coffin stood there, utterly out of place. Yet the wood was dark and clean, the shape beautifully crafted; Wei Wuxian found an unusual fondness for it, and couldn’t resist patting it. The timber was solid and gave a dull thud — he praised, 'A fine coffin.'

Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian stood on either side of it, exchanged a glance, and together reached out to lift the lid.

The moment the lid was lifted, the surrounding din suddenly swelled many times over, flooding Wei Wuxian’s hearing like a tidal wave. It was as though they had been watched all along by countless pairs of eyes, whose owners had been silently spying on them, discussing their every word and action — and now, seeing them open the coffin, they grew agitated. Wei Wuxian had imagined dozens of possibilities; he was prepared for a reeking stench, a sudden claw, a spray of venom, poisonous smoke, vengeful spirits rushing at his face, and so on. Of course, what he most hoped to see was Jin Ling. Yet nothing happened — absolutely nothing.

The coffin was actually empty.

Wei Wuxian was slightly surprised, and a little disappointed that Jin Ling was not trapped here. Lan Wangji moved closer; Bichen automatically slid a few inches from its sheath, its cold light glowing softly and illuminating the coffin’s bottom. Only then did he realise that the coffin was not entirely empty. The thing inside was merely far smaller than the corpse he had expected — it lay hidden in the deepest hollow of the coffin’s interior.

Inside the coffin lay a long blade.

The sabre had no scabbard; its hilt seemed cast from gold, looking heavy and substantial. The blade was long and slender, its edge snowy white, resting on a layer of red cloth at the bottom of the coffin and reflecting a blood-like colour — a grim, slaughterous aura hung about it.

A coffin that held not a body but a blade — every corner of this Stone Fortress on Wayfarer’s Ridge was utterly strange, each step revealing new uncanny turns.

They closed the lid and proceeded further inside. In several more stone chambers they found similar coffins; judging by the timber, each was of a different age, and every coffin housed a long blade. When they reached the last chamber, Jin Ling was still nowhere to be seen. Wei Wuxian closed the lid, a faint unease settling in his heart.

Lan Wangji, seeing him knit his brows in silence, pondered briefly, then laid his guqin across the coffin. He raised his hand, and a cascade of notes streamed from his fingers.

He played only a short passage, then drew his right hand back above the instrument, gazing intently at the still-vibrating strings.

Suddenly, one of the strings shivered and sounded a note of its own accord.

Wei Wuxian said: 'Spirit Inquiry?'

Spirit Inquiry was a famous piece composed by an ancestor of the Gusu Lan Clan. Unlike Soul Summoning, it was mostly employed when the identity of the dead was unknown and no medium whatsoever was available. The player posed questions through the qin melody, and the dead’s replies were translated by Spirit Inquiry into musical tones, reflected upon the strings.

The strings moving on their own meant that a spirit from the Stone Fortress had been summoned by Lan Wangji. Next, the two parties would engage in question and answer through Zither Speech.

Zither Speech was a secret skill unique to the Gusu Lan; although Wei Wuxian had a wide range of knowledge, there were limits to his reach, and he could not decipher it. He murmured softly, 'Hanguang-Jun, ask it for me: what is this place? What is it used for? Who built it?'

Lan Wangji, well-versed in the qin language of Spirit Inquiry, did not need to think; he casually plucked two or three clear notes. A moment later, the strings sounded twice on their own. Wei Wuxian quickly asked: 'What did it say?'

Lan Wangji: 'It does not know.'

Wei Wuxian: 'Ah?'

Lan Wangji said unhurriedly: 'It said, “I do not know.”'

'...' Wei Wuxian looked at him, suddenly reminded of a certain exchange many years ago involving 'Suibian'. He rubbed his nose, feeling rather put out, and thought: Lan Zhan, you’ve really come far — you’ve learned to choke me with your words.

One question having failed, Lan Wangji played another phrase. The strings answered again, the same two crisp notes as before. Hearing that the answer was once more 'I do not know', Wei Wuxian asked: 'What did you ask it this time?'

Lan Wangji said: 'The cause of death.'

Wei Wuxian said: 'If one was unexpectedly murdered, it is indeed possible not to know how one died. Why not ask it whether it knows who killed it.'

Lan Wangji lifted his hand and plucked the strings. Yet the reply was still those two resonant notes — 'I do not know.'

A spirit imprisoned here — it did not know where this place was, did not know how it had died, did not know who had killed it. Wei Wuxian had never encountered a dead soul so thoroughly ignorant in three questions. Changing tack, he said: 'Then ask something else. Ask it whether it is male or female. Surely it will not fail to know that.'

Lan Wangji played as instructed. After he withdrew his hand, another string resounded with a commanding note, and Lan Wangji translated: 'Male.'

Wei Wuxian said: 'At last we know one thing. Ask again: has a youth of fifteen or sixteen come to this place?'

The answer: 'Yes.'

Wei Wuxian asked further: 'Then where is he now?'

The strings paused for a beat before responding. Wei Wuxian quickly said: 'What did he say?'

Lan Wangji’s expression grew solemn: 'He said, “He is right here.”'

Wei Wuxian fell silent.

'Here' must mean this very Stone Fortress, but they had just searched around and found no trace of Jin Ling. Wei Wuxian said: 'He cannot be lying, can he?'

Lan Wangji said: 'With me here, he cannot.'

True — the inquirer was Hanguang-Jun; the summoned spirit, under his suppression, could naturally not lie, but only answer truthfully. Wei Wuxian then searched everywhere in the stone chamber, looking for any hidden mechanism or secret passage he might have missed. Lan Wangji pondered a moment, then played two more queries. On receiving the response, his expression changed slightly. Seeing this, Wei Wuxian hurriedly asked: 'What did you ask this time?'

Lan Wangji said: 'His age, and his place of origin.'

Both questions probed the spirit’s identity and background; Wei Wuxian knew he must have received an unusual answer. 'Well?'

Lan Wangji said: 'Fifteen years old, from Lanling.'

Wei Wuxian’s face abruptly changed as well.

The soul summoned by Spirit Inquiry — it was actually Jin Ling?!

He strained his ears to listen; amid the overwhelming din, it seemed he could vaguely hear a few faint cries from Jin Ling, but they were too indistinct to make out.

Lan Wangji continued to play his inquiries; Wei Wuxian knew he was certainly asking for a precise location. He fixed his eyes on the strings, awaiting Jin Ling’s answer.

This time the response was longer. Having listened, Lan Wangji relayed to Wei Wuxian: ‘“Stand where you are, face southwest, and listen for the string. When you hear a sound, take one step forward. When the qin sound ceases, you will be before him.”’

Wei Wuxian said nothing, turned to the southwest, and walked forward. Seven string sounds came from behind; he took seven steps. Yet ahead of him, there was still nothing at all.

The qin music continued, though the intervals grew longer, and he walked ever more slowly. Another step, two steps, three steps…

After he had taken six more steps, the qin sound finally fell silent, never to be heard again.

And before him, there was only a wall.

The wall was built of greyish-white stone bricks, fitted together so tightly that not a crack showed. Wei Wuxian turned around: '… He is in the wall?!'

Bichen unsheathed; four streaks of blue light flashed, and the wall was cut into a neat grid. The two stepped forward and began removing bricks by hand. After they took out several, a large expanse of black soil was exposed.

So the walls of this Stone Fortress were built double-layered: between two courses of solid stone bricks, packed full of earth. Wei Wuxian clawed away a large chunk of soil with his bare hands, and from the dark dirt he unearthed a human face with eyes tightly shut.

It was the missing Jin Ling!

Jin Ling’s face had been buried in the earth; the moment it was exposed, air rushed into his mouth and nose, and he immediately started coughing and gasping for breath. Wei Wuxian, seeing him still alive, finally set his heart at ease. Jin Ling had truly been hanging by a thread — otherwise his living soul, on the verge of leaving his body, would not have been caught by Spirit Inquiry. Fortunately he had not been buried inside the wall for long; a moment more, and he would have suffocated to death.

The two of them busied themselves digging him out of the wall; but as the old saying goes, when you pull up a radish you bring out mud — the moment Jin Ling’s upper body was freed, the long sword on his back snagged something else.

A white-bone arm, ghastly pale!

Lan Wangji laid Jin Ling flat on the ground and began examining his pulse to tend him. Wei Wuxian, meanwhile, picked up Bichen’s sheath and used it to prod and poke expertly through the earth along the line of that skeletal arm. Before long, a complete skeleton was revealed before their eyes.

Like Jin Ling just moments ago, this skeleton had been buried standing up inside the wall. The stark white bones against the pitch-black soil made a sharp, glaring contrast. Wei Wuxian rummaged through the earth, removed a few bricks nearby, and after some stirring, did indeed discover a second skeleton nearby.

This one, however, had not completely decayed yet; there was still flesh clinging to the bones, and on its skull a tangle of long black hair. The tattered clothes were pinkish-red — one could tell it was a woman. She was not standing though; her skeleton was bent at the waist. The reason for bending was that beside her legs there was a third set of remains — crouching.

Wei Wuxian dug no further.

He stepped back several paces; in his ears, the din surged and roared like a raging tide.

He was almost certain now. The entire Stone Fortress, within those thick walls, was filled with human remains.

Above his head, beneath his feet, southeast, northwest; standing, sitting, lying, crouching...

What kind of place was this?!