Dark Ferocity

Jiang Cheng said again, “Lend me your dog.”

Jin Ling snapped out of his daze, hesitated a moment, but when Jiang Cheng’s sharp gaze cut toward him like lightning, he blew a whistle. The black-maned spirit hound sprang over in three bounds. Wei Wuxian went rigid as iron, forced to let himself be dragged along step by step with one hand.

Jiang Cheng found an empty room and threw Wei Wuxian inside. The door shut behind him; the black-maned spirit hound followed in and sat by the door. Wei Wuxian kept both eyes locked on it, braced for it to pounce the next instant. As he replayed how he’d been overpowered in those few short moments, he thought to himself, Jiang Cheng truly knew exactly how to handle him.

Jiang Cheng sat down slowly at the table and poured himself a cup of tea.

For a long while, silence stretched between them. The tea steamed with heat, but before he had taken a single sip, he suddenly hurled the cup to the floor.

Jiang Cheng tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You — have nothing to say to me?”

All his life, Jiang Cheng had watched Wei Wuxian flee from dogs so many times he’d lost count; you could bluff with others, but against someone who knew you to the bone, there was no wriggling out. This was a trial even harder than Zidian’s soul-testing.

Wei Wuxian said, with all sincerity, “I don’t know what to say to you.”

Jiang Cheng said softly, “You truly never know repentance.”

In their old conversations, they’d often tear each other down and trade barbs. Without a second thought, Wei Wuxian shot back, “You haven’t improved a bit either.”

Jiang Cheng laughed in his fury. “Fine, let’s see — who exactly is the one who hasn’t improved?”

Without moving from the table, he barked an order, and the black-maned spirit hound started to its feet at once!

Sharing a room had already soaked Wei Wuxian in cold sweat. Now this savage hound — half a man’s height, baring its fangs, ears pricked, eyes sharp — was in his face in an instant, low growls filling his ears until pins and needles ran from the soles of his feet to the crown of his head. He could no longer recall much of his wanderings as a child, but one thing he remembered clearly: the terror of being chased, the searing pain of canine teeth and claws sinking into flesh. That fear had rooted deep in his heart long ago; nothing could overcome it, nothing could dull it.

Suddenly, Jiang Cheng shot him a sidelong glance. “Who are you calling?”

Wei Wuxian’s three souls and seven spirits had scattered to the winds; he had no idea if he’d called out someone’s name just then. Not until Jiang Cheng ordered the black-maned spirit hound to retreat did he barely gather himself back. Dazed for a moment, he jerked his head around. Jiang Cheng had risen from his seat. A riding whip was slanted at his waist; he rested a hand on it, bent down to study Wei Wuxian’s face. After a pause, he straightened up and said, “Speaking of which, I forgot to ask: since when did you and Lan Wangji get so close?”

Wei Wuxian understood at once whose name had slipped out without thinking.

Jiang Cheng gave a dark smile. “Last time on Mount Dafan, he went that far to protect you — it really makes one curious why.”

A moment later, he amended himself. “No, that’s not right. It’s not necessarily you Lan Wangji was protecting. After all, the Gusu Lan Clan can hardly have forgotten what fine deeds you and your loyal dog got up to. A man like him — so upright and severe that everyone sings his praises — how could he possibly tolerate you? Perhaps he has some connection to the body you stole.”

His words were venomous, each sentence dressed as praise but stabbing with hidden meaning. Wei Wuxian couldn’t listen any longer. “Watch your words.”

Jiang Cheng said, “I’ve never watched my words. Have you forgotten?”

Wei Wuxian mocked, “True enough.”

Jiang Cheng snorted. “You have the nerve to tell me to watch my words. Do you remember, last time on Mount Dafan, whether you watched your words with Jin Ling?”

Wei Wuxian’s expression instantly stiffened.

Having turned the tables, Jiang Cheng looked pleased again. He sneered, “‘Born of a mother but never raised by her.’ That was a fine curse — you’re quite good at it. Jin Ling had his spine jabbed at today, and it’s all thanks to you. Your venerable self is so exalted you forget your own words, forget your own vows — but don’t you forget how his parents died!”

Wei Wuxian’s head shot up. “I haven’t forgotten! I just…”

After “just,” he couldn’t find anything to follow with, no matter what.

Jiang Cheng said, “Just what? Can’t say it? No matter — you can go back to Lotus Pier, kneel before my parents’ memorial tablets, and take your time saying it.”

Wei Wuxian steadied his heart, mind racing as he searched for a way out. Though he dreamed of returning to Lotus Pier, the Lotus Pier he wanted was not this one, so utterly changed beyond recognition.

Suddenly, urgent footsteps rushed close, and the door was pounded with loud bangs. Jin Ling shouted from outside, “Uncle!”

Jiang Cheng raised his voice. “Didn’t I tell you to stay put? What are you doing here!”

Jin Ling said, “Uncle, I have something very important to tell you.”

Jiang Cheng said, “What’s so important that you wouldn’t say it when I was lecturing you just now, and you have to say it now?”

Jin Ling flared up. “It’s because you kept scolding me that I didn’t say it! Are you listening or not? If not, I won’t bother!”

Jiang Cheng, his face burning with irritation, flung the door open. “Say it and get lost!”

The wooden door swung open, and Jin Ling stepped inside; he had already changed into a new white uniform. “I really did run into something difficult today. I think I encountered Wen Ning!”

Jiang Cheng’s brow twitched, and his hand went straight to his sword, his expression murderous. “When? Where!”

Jin Ling said, “This afternoon. About a few dozen li south, there’s a derelict house. I went because I heard there was some strange phenomenon there — who knew it was hiding a Fierce Corpse inside.”

Jin Ling sounded utterly convincing, but to Wei Wuxian’s ears, every word was a lie. He knew better than anyone where Jin Ling had been that afternoon. And once Wen Ning went into hiding, unless Wei Wuxian summoned him himself, there was no way a junior would discover his whereabouts so easily.

Jiang Cheng said, “Why didn’t you say this earlier!”

Jin Ling said, “I couldn’t be sure. That Fierce Corpse moved extremely fast — he ran off the moment I entered. I only saw a blurred back. But I heard the clanking of the chains on him that we heard on Mount Dafan, so I guessed it might be him. If you hadn’t rained curses on me, I’d have told you the moment I got back. If he gets away now and you don’t catch him, you can only blame your own temper, not me.” He tried to peek further inside, but Jiang Cheng, furious, slammed the door in his face and said through it, “I’ll settle accounts with you later. Now scram!”

With an “Oh,” and the sound of retreating footsteps, Jin Ling left. Seeing Jiang Cheng turn around, Wei Wuxian hastily arranged his face into a complex expression that mixed “shock and horror,” “the secret’s out,” and “what do I do — Wen Ning’s been discovered.” Jin Ling was quite clever, knowing that Jiang Cheng hated Wen Ning most of all; he lied right on cue with perfect smoothness. Jiang Cheng knew well that the Yiling Patriarch and the Ghost General often moved together and wreaked havoc; he had already suspected Wen Ning was nearby. Jin Ling’s account convinced him six-tenths of the way, and Wei Wuxian’s cooperating expression added another two-tenths. Besides, the moment he heard Wen Ning’s name, a towering rage shot to his head; when would he have the leisure to doubt? His chest was about to burst with violent fury. He raised his whip and lashed the ground beside Wei Wuxian, hating him to the core. “You really do take that obedient good dog of yours everywhere you go!”

Wei Wuxian said, “He’s long been a dead man, and I’ve died once myself. What more do you want?”

Jiang Cheng pointed his whip at him. “What more? Even if he died another thousand times, ten thousand times, it still wouldn’t quell the hatred in my heart! He failed to be destroyed back then — very well! Today I’ll destroy him myself. I’ll go right now and burn him to ashes, grind his bones to dust, and scatter them before your eyes!”

He slammed the door and left grandly. Going to the main hall, he instructed Jin Ling, “You watch that man inside for me. Don’t believe a word he says, don’t listen to a thing! Don’t let him make a sound. If he dares whistle or play a flute, stop his mouth first. If you can’t stop it, cut off his hands and slice out his tongue!”

Wei Wuxian knew full well that Jiang Cheng had spoken those words deliberately for him to hear, threatening him not to play any tricks. Leaving him behind was because Jiang Cheng was wary that, if they went together, Wei Wuxian would seize the chance to control Wen Ning. Jin Ling said carelessly, “Got it. Think I can’t watch one person? Uncle, what were you doing shut in there with that damned cut-sleeve? What did he do this time?” Jiang Cheng replied, “That’s not your business. Remember to keep a close eye on him. If he’s gone when I return, I’ll definitely break your legs!” He asked a few more questions about the specifics of the location, took half the men, and set off to hunt down the Wen Ning who didn’t exist.

After waiting a while longer, Jin Ling’s arrogant voice drifted over. “You go over there. You, stand guard over on that side. The rest of you, stay at the main gate. I’m going in to have a word with him.”

The disciples all obeyed without daring to object. Moments later, the door opened and Jin Ling poked his head in, his eyes darting about. Wei Wuxian sat up. Jin Ling raised a finger to his lips, stepped softly inside, laid his hand on Zidian, and murmured a quiet incantation.

Zidian recognised its master; Jiang Cheng must have keyed it to Jin Ling. The crackling currents instantly retracted, and it transformed into a silver ring set with amethyst, falling into Jin Ling’s fair palm.

Jin Ling said under his breath, “Go.”

The Yunmeng Jiang Clan disciples, having been scattered in all directions by his random orders, were all over the place. The two of them crept out by window and wall. Once they’d left the inn, they broke into a soundless sprint. As they dashed into a stretch of woods, Wei Wuxian heard a strange noise behind him. He looked back, and his heart and gall nearly split with terror. “Why is it following us?! Make it go away!”

Jin Ling gave two short whistles. The black-maned spirit hound, tongue lolling, let out a low whimper; its sharp ears twitched twice, and then it turned and ran off, crestfallen. He said with contempt, “So pathetic. Fairy never bites people — it just looks fierce. It’s a strictly trained spirit hound that only mauls evil beings. Did you think it was some ordinary dog?”

Wei Wuxian: “Stop. What did you call it?”

Jin Ling: “Fairy. That’s its name.”

Wei Wuxian: “You named a dog that?!”

Jin Ling said, completely self-assured, “What’s wrong with that name? When it was little, it was Little Fairy. Now that it’s grown, I can’t keep calling it that.”

Wei Wuxian refused. “No, no, no — the problem is not ‘little’ or ‘grown’! Where did you learn to name things like this?!” No need to ask; it had to be his uncle. Back then, Jiang Cheng had also raised a few puppies and given them names like ‘Jasmine,’ ‘Feifei,’ ‘Little Love’ — names that sounded like courtesans from the pleasure quarters. Jin Ling said, “A real man doesn’t fret over trifles — why are you hung up on this? Fine! Stop. You crossed my uncle; that would cost you half your life at least. Now I’m letting you go — we’re even.”

Wei Wuxian said, “Do you know why your uncle wanted to catch me?”

Jin Ling said, “I know. He suspects you’re Wei Wuxian.”

Wei Wuxian thought, ‘This time it’s not just “suspect” — he caught the right person.’ He asked, “And you? Aren’t you suspicious?”

Jin Ling said, “It’s not the first time my uncle’s done something like this. He’s always preferred to catch the wrong one than let one go. But since Zidian couldn’t draw out your soul, I’ll tentatively take it that you’re not him. Besides, Wei Wuxian isn’t a cut-sleeve, and yet you, you actually dare to pester…”

He didn’t say whom, and with a disgusted look, stopped himself. Making a shooing gesture as if waving off a plague god, he said, “Anyway, from now on you have nothing to do with the Lanling Jin Clan! If you have a fit of that sickness, don’t come looking for anyone in my family! Or I won’t let you off!”

With that, Jin Ling turned and left. After a few steps, he looked back and added, “What are you standing there for? Still not leaving? Waiting for my uncle to come catch you? Let me tell you: don’t think that just because you saved me, I’ll be grateful. And don’t expect me to say any of those nauseating, sentimental things to you.”

Wei Wuxian strolled up with his hands clasped behind him. “Young man, in this life, there are two nauseating, sentimental things you absolutely must say.”

Jin Ling said, “Which two?”

Wei Wuxian said, “‘Thank you,’ and ‘I’m sorry.’”

Jin Ling scoffed. “Then I won’t say them. What can anyone do about it?”

Wei Wuxian said, “One day, you’ll say them through tears.”

Jin Ling made a “Pah!” sound. Wei Wuxian suddenly said, “I’m sorry.”

Jin Ling froze. “What?”

Wei Wuxian said, “On Mount Dafan, that thing I said to you — I’m sorry.”

Jin Ling had been cursed as “born of a mother but never raised by her” before, but no one had ever offered him such a solemn apology. This “I’m sorry” smashed right into his face; he didn’t know what to make of it, and a deep discomfort stole over his whole body.

He waved his hand wildly for a moment and snorted. “It’s nothing. You’re not the first to say it. It’s true, I wasn’t raised by my mother. But that doesn’t make me any less than anyone else! On the contrary, I’ll make sure you all open your eyes wide and see: I’m way stronger than any of you!”

Wei Wuxian smiled faintly and was about to speak when his expression suddenly changed. Stunned, he said, “Jiang Cheng? You!”

Jin Ling, already guilty over having stolen Zidian and let the man go, spun around at the name. Wei Wuxian seized the moment to chop a hand-knife to his neck. He laid Jin Ling flat on the ground, pulled up his trouser leg, and examined the Curse Mark on his leg. He tried several methods, but none could make it fade. Realizing how thorny it was, he let out a long sigh after a while.

However, although some Curse Marks couldn’t be dispelled, they could be transferred onto oneself.

Jin Ling came to slowly after a good while. Touching his neck, which still ached, he flew into a rage and leaped up, drawing his sword. “How dare you strike me — even my uncle has never hit me!”

Wei Wuxian looked surprised. “Really? Doesn’t he often say he’ll break your legs?”

Jin Ling fumed, “He was just saying that! You damned cut-sleeve — just what do you want? I…”

Wei Wuxian clutched his head and shouted over Jin Ling’s shoulder, “Ah! Hanguang-Jun!”

Jin Ling feared Lan Wangji even more than his uncle — an uncle was family, but Hanguang-Jun belonged to others. Thoroughly spooked, he turned and fled, shouting as he ran, “You damned cut-sleeve! Hateful madman! I’ll remember this! It’s not over!”

Wei Wuxian laughed until he could barely breathe. Once Jin Ling had vanished from sight, his chest felt tight and ticklish; he coughed for a spell, his laughter growing strained until it finally stopped. Only then did he have the leisure to think about certain things.

Wei Wuxian was nine years old when Jiang Fengmian took him back.

Some of those memories had already grown hazy, but Jin Ling’s mother, Jiang Yanli, remembered them all and had told him quite a bit.

She said that after Father got word that both his parents had died in battle, he kept searching for the child those old friends had left behind. He searched a long time and finally found the boy in the Yiling area. The first time he laid eyes on him, the child was kneeling on the ground, picking up fruit rinds others had thrown away and eating them.

The winters and springs in Yiling were bitter cold. The child wore only a thin shirt and trousers, the knees worn ragged; on his feet were two mismatched shoes that didn’t fit. He was buried in rummaging through the discarded rinds. When Jiang Fengmian called him, he remembered that his name contained the character ‘Ying,’ so he lifted his head. Those cheeks were red and chapped from the cold, but it was a smiling face.

Jiang Yanli said he was born with a smiling face, a cheerful look by nature. No matter what sorrow came, he never took it to heart. No matter the circumstances, he could be happy. It sounded a bit heartless, but that was a good thing.

Jiang Fengmian fed him a piece of melon, and he let himself be carried back. At that time, Jiang Cheng was only eight or nine; he had raised a few puppies at Lotus Pier to keep him company. When Jiang Fengmian discovered that Wei Wuxian was terribly afraid of dogs, he gently told Jiang Cheng to send the puppies away. Jiang Cheng was very unwilling — he threw a tantrum, smashed things, scowled, wept and kicked up a storm, but in the end, he still sent the dogs away.

Though he bore a grudge against Wei Wuxian for a long time because of that, once they became close, from then on they would go out and wreak havoc together. Whenever they ran into dogs, it was Jiang Cheng who chased them away, before mercilessly mocking Wei Wuxian scrambling up a tree.

He had always believed that Jiang Cheng would stand at his side, and Lan Wangji on the opposite side. He never imagined that reality would be completely reversed.

Wei Wuxian walked slowly to the rendezvous point he had agreed upon with Lan Wangji. The lamps were sparse and scattered; the night streets were empty of passersby. There was no need to search — that white-robed figure stood at the end of the long street, head slightly lowered, utterly still.

Before Wei Wuxian could call out a greeting, Lan Wangji lifted his head and saw him. They held each other’s gaze for a moment; then, with a dark expression, Lan Wangji walked toward him.

For some reason, Wei Wuxian involuntarily stepped backward.

He seemed to see bright red veins of blood in Lan Wangji’s eyes. It had to be said… that expression on Lan Wangji’s face was truly somewhat terrifying.