Peerless Courage

After a pause, Wei Wuxian said, 'But even if it hibernated, it didn’t need to sleep for four hundred years, did it? You said this Xuanwu of Slaughter devoured the living — how many did it actually eat?'

Lan Wangji said, 'The records say that every time it appeared, it consumed at least two or three hundred people, and at most, entire cities and villages. Over several rampages, it devoured no fewer than five thousand alive.'

Wei Wuxian said, 'Oh. So it gorged itself.'

The beast seemed to enjoy carrying people whole into its shell, dragging them inside — who knew if it liked to store them up and enjoy them slowly. Perhaps four hundred years ago it crammed too much into its shell in one breath, and it still hasn’t finished digesting.

Lan Wangji ignored him, and Wei Wuxian went on, 'Speaking of food, have you ever gone without eating? People like us, without food or drink, can probably last three or four days. But if no one comes to rescue us after three or four days, our physical strength, energy, and spiritual power will all start to decline.'

If Wen Chao and his gang fled and then washed their hands of the matter, that would be one thing — waiting three or four days might bring rescue from the other clans. What was really to be feared was that the Wen clan would not only fail to send charcoal in the snow, but would push someone who’s fallen into a well. Those so-called ‘other clans’ only included the Gusu Lan Sect and the Yunmeng Jiang Clan; if the Wen clan obstructed and meddled, those ‘three or four days’ would probably have to be doubled.

Wei Wuxian drew back his branch and roughly sketched a map on the ground, connecting several lines. He said, 'Muxi Mountain to Gusu is a little closer than Muxi Mountain to Yunmeng — your family’s people should arrive first. We’ll wait slowly. Even if they don’t come, at most one or two extra days and Jiang Cheng can make it back to Lotus Pier. Jiang Cheng is sharp; the Wen people can’t stop him. There’s nothing to worry about.'

Lan Wangji lowered his eyes, looking dispirited, and said quietly, 'No one is coming.'

Wei Wuxian said, 'Hm?'

Lan Wangji said, 'The Cloud Recesses have already been burned.'

Wei Wuxian ventured cautiously, '… Everyone is still alive, right? Your uncle, your brother.'

He had assumed that even if the Lan clan leader, Lan Wangji’s father, was seriously injured, Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen would still be able to hold things together. But Lan Wangji said woodenly, 'Father is dying. My brother is missing.'

Wei Wuxian’s branch, which had been scribbling aimlessly on the ground, went still.

That young cultivator on the mountain had said that the Lan clan leader was gravely wounded. But he hadn’t imagined it would be to the point of ‘dying.’ Perhaps Lan Wangji had just received the latest news these past two days, telling him his father was not going to make it.

Although the Lan clan leader had long been in seclusion, heedless of affairs outside his door, a father was still a father. And with Lan Xichen missing on top of that, no wonder Lan Wangji had been so particularly gloomy and quick-tempered today. Wei Wuxian was suddenly at a loss, not knowing what to say.

Who could have known that when he inadvertently turned his head, his whole body went rigid.

The firelight made Lan Wangji’s face glow like warm jade, and it also made a trail of tears on his cheek startlingly clear.

Wei Wuxian froze for a moment, and thought, 'Hell!'

Someone like Lan Wangji might cry only a few times in his whole life, and yet one of those times had happened right in front of him. He could never bear to see others cry. A woman’s tears he couldn’t watch — the moment he saw them he wanted to soothe and coax her until she was laughing through them. A man’s tears were even harder to witness. He had always felt that stumbling upon a usually domineering man’s tears was more dreadful than accidentally seeing a virtuous girl bathing, and he couldn’t even step forward to comfort.

Under the multiple blows of having his home burned, his entire clan oppressed, his father at death’s door, his brother missing, and his own body wounded, any comfort would be pale and powerless.

Wei Wuxian didn’t know where to put his hands or feet; he turned his head away. Only after a long while did he say, 'Um, Lan Zhan.'

Lan Wangji said coldly, 'Shut up.'

Wei Wuxian shut up.

The firewood crackled with a burst.

Lan Wangji said evenly, 'Wei Ying, you really are very annoying.'

Wei Wuxian said, 'Oh…'

He thought, 'So many things have happened, and Lan Zhan is already thoroughly vexed, but there I am still loitering in front of him — no wonder he’s so angry. His leg is injured and he doesn’t have the strength to hit me, so he just bites me instead… I’d better give him a bit of peace and quiet.'

After holding it in for a while, he still said, 'Actually, I didn’t mean to bother you… I just wanted to say, aren’t you cold? The clothes are dry now. You take the inner robe, I’ll keep the outer one.'

His inner robe was a garment worn next to the skin and wasn’t really suitable for Lan Wangji to wear, but his own outer robe was already filthy and unpresentable. People from the Gusu Lan clan were naturally fastidious, and offering Lan Wangji such a garment seemed almost offensive. Lan Wangji neither spoke nor looked at him, so Wei Wuxian tossed the dried white inner robe beside him, draped the outer garment over himself, and silently rolled his way outside.

And so the two waited for three days.

There is no telling day from night in a cave; the only reason they knew it was three days was entirely due to the Lan family’s outrageous routine — falling asleep on time automatically and waking on time automatically, so simply watching how many times Lan Wangji slept let them count the hours.

With these three days of rest and recuperation, the wound on Lan Wangji’s leg did not worsen, and it slowly began to heal. Before long he was sitting in meditation again.

During these few days, Wei Wuxian didn’t hang around in front of him. Once Lan Wangji regained his calm, settled his emotions, and turned back into that expressionless, ripple-free Lan Zhan, he sauntered back as if nothing had happened, thick-skinned enough to pretend he hadn’t seen or heard a thing that night, and with a good sense of limits, he stopped teasing him just for fun. Their time together was neither warm nor cold, but peaceful enough.

In between, they went to spy around the Black Pond many times. The Xuanwu of Slaughter had already carried all the corpses into its shell; that huge black shell floated on the water’s surface like an invincible giant warship. The first few times they heard heavy chewing sounds from inside, but later they stopped hearing them, replaced by something like the snoring of sleep, rumbling like muffled thunder.

The two of them had wanted to see if they could sneak underwater while the beast slept and look for an escape hole, but they could only swim underwater for the time it takes one stick of incense before the beast would sense their movements. And though they searched again and again, they never found the hole Jiang Cheng had mentioned; Wei Wuxian suspected it might be blocked by some part of the beast’s body and wanted to lure it out of the water again, but the creature seemed worn out after its huge rampage and was disinclined to move.

They gathered up the scattered feathered arrows, longbows, and iron brands from the shore, and brought them back to count: over a hundred arrows, more than thirty bows, and a dozen or so brands.

By then, it was the fourth day.

Lan Wangji picked up a longbow with his left hand and examined its material with careful attention; with his right, he plucked the bowstring, producing a clear metallic ring.

This was the type of bow and arrow used by cultivation clans for Night Hunts against demons and monsters, both the bows and arrows made from exceptional materials. Lan Wangji detached all the bowstrings from their bows, joining them end to end into one long string.

Lan Wangji released the string and pulled it back, and the bowstring flew out like lightning; a flash of white light dazzled, and a rock three zhang ahead was smashed to pieces.

Wei Wuxian said, 'The String Slaying Technique?'

The String Slaying Technique was one of the Gusu Lan clan’s secret skills, created and passed down by Lan Yi, the granddaughter of the founding ancestor Lan An and the third clan leader. Lan Yi was also the only female clan leader of the Gusu Lan. She cultivated the qin, whose seven strings could be detached and reattached at will; those seven strings, graduating from thick to thin, under her white, soft fingertips could play high and pure melodies one moment and slice through bone and flesh like mud the next, becoming a deadly weapon in her hands.

Lan Yi created the String Slaying Technique for the purpose of assassinating rivals, so it was often criticized, and the Gusu Lan clan itself held a delicate opinion of this ancestor. But it could not be denied that the String Slaying Technique was the most lethal of the Gusu Lan’s secret skills, a combat technique equally effective at long or close range.

Lan Wangji said, 'We attack from the inside.'

The turtle shell was as solid as a fortress; its outer surface was incredibly hard and seemed impenetrable. But the more that was true, the more likely it was that the body concealed inside the shell was fragile. This was something Wei Wuxian had also thought over these past few days and understood deep down.

What he understood even more clearly was the present situation. After three days of rest, they were now at their peak condition. Any further wait and drain would cause a gradual decline. And the fourth day had already passed; the rescue had still not come.

Rather than sit and wait for death, it was better to stake everything on one attempt. If the two of them could join forces and slay this Xuanwu of Slaughter, they could escape through the underwater hole beneath the Black Pond.

Wei Wuxian said, 'I agree with attacking from the inside. But I’ve heard a little about your family’s String Slaying Technique — inside the shell, it’s cramped and restrictive, not ideal for it to work its best. Add to that your leg wound isn’t healed yet, so its effectiveness would be compromised, wouldn’t it?'

This was the truth, and Lan Wangji knew it. They both understood that forcing yourself onto the battlefield to do something you weren’t able to do accomplished nothing but dragging others down.

Wei Wuxian said, 'Listen to me.'

A small portion of the Xuanwu of Slaughter’s shell was still floating on the surface of the Black Pond.

Its four claws, head, and tail were all withdrawn inside; there was a large opening in front, with five smaller openings arrayed on the left, right, and back. It was like a solitary island, a small mountain, its body pitch-black and uneven, covered in green moss and draped with dark green, blackish strands of long water weed.

Without a sound, like a slender silver fish with a bundle of feathered arrows and iron brands strapped to his back, Wei Wuxian slipped underwater to the front of the Xuanwu of Slaughter’s head opening.

A small part of this opening was submerged in the Black Pond’s water, so Wei Wuxian swam in with the current. After passing through the head opening, he flipped himself inside the shell. His feet came down on ‘ground’ that felt like stepping into a thick layer of sludge, water pooling within the muck, and a wave of stench so overwhelming it nearly wrung a curse from him.

The stench was like rot and sweet putrefaction, reminding Wei Wuxian of a bloated dead rat he had once seen on the shore of a lake in Yunmeng. Pinching his nose, he thought, 'This cursed place… good thing I didn’t let Lan Zhan come inside. With his delicate, fastidious ways, the moment he smelled this he’d throw up on the spot. If he didn’t puke, he’d be stunned into unconsciousness.'

The Xuanwu of Slaughter emitted a steady, snoring rumble. Wei Wuxian held his breath and moved quietly, his feet sinking deeper and deeper. After three steps, the muck-like substance had already passed his knees. Amid the sludge and pond water, there seemed to be hard lumps. Wei Wuxian bent down slightly and felt around, then suddenly touched something furry.

It felt like human hair.

Wei Wuxian withdrew his hand, understanding now that this was a person the Xuanwu of Slaughter had dragged inside. He felt around again and this time touched a boot, within which half a leg had rotted to a state half flesh and half bone.

It seemed this beast was extremely slovenly. The leftovers it hadn’t finished or hadn’t yet gotten to had leaked through the gaps in its teeth and been spat into the shell; over the centuries, it had piled up into a thick layer. And right now, Wei Wuxian was standing right in this corpse sludge formed of severed limbs and dismembered bodies.

After these past days of crawling and scrambling, his body was already filthy beyond recognition, so Wei Wuxian cared nothing about getting even filthier. He wiped his hand casually on his trousers and kept moving forward.

The beast’s snoring grew louder, the gusts of its breath heavier, and the corpse sludge underfoot thicker. At last, his hand lightly touched the beast’s uneven skin. He slowly continued groping inward along the skin: sure enough, the head and neck were scaly, and further down was rough, pitted, hard hide; the further down, the thinner the skin and the more vulnerable.

By now the corpse sludge had crept up to Wei Wuxian’s waist. Most of the bodies here hadn’t been finished off; what remained were large chunks, so it should really be called a pile of corpses rather than corpse sludge. Wei Wuxian reached behind to undo his bundle of feathered arrows and iron brands but found the brands stuck on something and couldn’t pull them free.

He gripped the long shaft of an iron brand and pulled hard, finally yanking it loose. At the same time, the tip of the brand caught on something in the corpse pile and brought it out, producing a faint ‘clink’.

Wei Wuxian immediately froze.

After a long while, there was no movement around him and the beast made no attack. Only then did he let out a silent breath of relief and thought, 'Just now the iron brand seemed caught on something, and it sounded like iron as well? And it’s quite long — let’s see if it’s useful. I’m short on weapons; if it’s a top-grade spiritual sword that would be perfect!'

He reached out and touched the object: long and blunt, its surface covered in rust.

The instant he grasped it, screaming exploded in Wei Wuxian’s ears.

It was as if thousands upon thousands of people were wailing in heart-rending, hopeless despair right beside his ears. In an instant, a chill surged through his arm and crawled over his whole body. Wei Wuxian gave a violent start and snatched back his hand, thinking, 'What is this thing — such strong resentment!'

Just then, the surroundings abruptly brightened; a faint amber-yellow glow cast Wei Wuxian’s shadow, illuminating a pitch-black iron sword in front of him. The sword was thrust at a slant right through the heart of his shadow.

But this was inside the Xuanwu of Slaughter’s shell — how could there be light?

Wei Wuxian whipped his head around, and sure enough, a pair of huge golden eyes was right before him.

Only then did he realize that the thunderous snoring had stopped. And that amber-yellow glow was coming from the Xuanwu of Slaughter’s eyes!

The Xuanwu of Slaughter bared its black-and-yellow fangs and opened its mouth to roar.

Wei Wuxian was standing directly before its fangs, taking the sound wave of that roar head-on; the blast nearly burst his eardrums and wracked his whole body with pain. Seeing it lunge to bite, he hastily shoved the bundle of iron brands into its maw. The timing and position of that shove were just right — not a fraction too much or too little — jamming the beast’s upper and lower jaws wide open!

Seizing the moment while the beast couldn’t close its mouth, Wei Wuxian drove a bundle of feathered arrows with all his strength into the thinnest patch of its skin. Though the arrows were slender, Wei Wuxian had bound five together, and he thrust them into the beast’s flesh right up to the fletching, as if driving in a poisoned needle. In its sharp agony, the Xuanwu of Slaughter bit down so hard that the iron brands bracing its jaws bent; the seven or eight brands, originally straight, were instantly warped into hooks by its crushing bite strength. Wei Wuxian jabbed several more bundles of arrows into its soft parts. The beast, having never suffered such torment since it came into the world, went mad with pain; its serpentine body writhed violently inside the shell, its snake-head smashed from side to side, the corpse pile churned like a sea in upheaval, as if a mountain were collapsing and sliding. Wei Wuxian was nearly submerged in the stinking limbs. The Xuanwu of Slaughter opened its golden, ferocious eyes wide and gaped its jaws as if to swallow mountains and rivers in one breath. The corpse pile slid in a torrent toward its mouth; Wei Wuxian struggled desperately, fighting against the current, and suddenly seized an iron sword. His heart went cold, and his ears once again rang with that shrill, sorrowful screaming.

Wei Wuxian’s body was already being sucked into the Xuanwu of Slaughter’s mouth. Just as the beast was about to close its jaws, he grabbed that iron sword and, using the same trick, jammed it between its upper and lower fangs.

The internal organs of such an ancient beast were almost certainly corrosive; the moment a person was swallowed, they would be melted into a wisp of smoke!

Wei Wuxian clung tightly to the iron sword, holding it like a thorn stuck in its mouth, neither up nor down. The Xuanwu of Slaughter banged its head about, unable to swallow down this thorn that kept its mouth from closing, but it refused to open its jaws either, and finally it charged out!

It had been tormented by Wei Wuxian inside the shell and seemed to want to escape entirely; it strained to force its body out, exposing the tender flesh that had been hidden and protected within that armor. And Lan Wangji had long since laid his line above the head opening, waiting all the while. The instant the Xuanwu of Slaughter burst out, he pulled the line taut and plucked the string; the bowstring vibrated and sliced into flesh!

The beast was forced by their combined pressure into a state where it could neither exit nor retreat. It was a deformed monster, no true divine beast, with no remarkable intelligence to begin with; under the torment of pain, it went utterly mad, thrashing its head and tail, careening through the Black Pond, churning and plunging in a vast whirlpool, raising towering waves. But no matter how it raged, one man remained firmly lodged in its mouth so it couldn’t bite or swallow, while the other kept the bowstring tight against its vital, thin-skinned point, cutting deeper with each inch. The wounds cut deeper and deeper, the blood flowed more and more!

Lan Wangji held the bowstring taut, not loosening for a single moment, and held on for three full shichen.

After three shichen, the Xuanwu of Slaughter gradually stopped moving.

The beast’s vital spot had been cut nearly apart from its body by Lan Wangji’s bowstring; his palms were already a mess of blood and wounds from the over-exertion. The enormous shell floated on the water’s surface, and the Black Pond’s water had been dyed a deep purple-red visible to the naked eye, the blood-thick scent like a purgatory’s pool of carnage.

With a splash, Lan Wangji dove into the water and swam near the snake-head. The Xuanwu of Slaughter’s eyes were still wide open, but its pupils had already scattered; its fangs were still clenched tight.

Lan Wangji cried, 'Wei Ying!'

No sound came from inside the beast’s mouth.

Lan Wangji reached out fiercely, grasping the upper and lower fangs, and strained them apart. Treading water with nowhere to brace himself, it took a long struggle before he pried them open. There he saw a pitch-black iron sword stuck in the Xuanwu of Slaughter’s mouth, its hilt and tip both driven deep into the flesh of its jaws, the blade itself bent into a curve.

Wei Wuxian was curled up like a shrimp, head bowed, hands still clutching the sword’s unsharpened blade, about to slide into the Xuanwu of Slaughter’s throat. Lan Wangji immediately grabbed his collar and pulled him out. The moment the beast’s jaws opened, the iron sword slid into the water and sank to the bottom of the pond.

Wei Wuxian’s eyes were shut tight, and he lay limp against Lan Wangji, one arm draped over his shoulder. Lan Wangji wrapped an arm around his waist, holding him afloat in the blood-tinted water, and said, 'Wei Ying!'

His hand trembled faintly as he reached to touch Wei Wuxian’s face, but Wei Wuxian gave a sudden start and woke. 'What? What happened? Is it dead? Is it dead?!'

He thrashed once, dragging both their bodies down a little. Lan Wangji tightened his arm around his waist and said, 'It’s dead!'

Wei Wuxian’s gaze drifted for a moment, as if he was slow to react. He thought for a while, then said, 'Dead? Dead… Good! It’s dead. It kept screaming and thrashing and knocked me senseless. Oh, right, the hole! The underwater hole — let’s go, quickly. Get out through the underwater hole.'

Lan Wangji noticed something off in his response and said, 'What’s wrong with you?'

Wei Wuxian perked up and said, 'Nothing! Let’s get out fast, there’s no time to lose.'

Indeed, there was no time to lose. Lan Wangji gave a nod and said, 'I’ll take you.'

Wei Wuxian said, 'No need…' But Lan Wangji’s right arm was still clamped like an iron hoop around his waist, and he said, his tone allowing no argument, 'Take a breath.'

In such a dazed and distracted state, going underwater was likely to court disaster. Wei Wuxian didn’t like to force things either; he nodded, and without minding the dirty, bloody water, the two drew a deep breath and dove down.

A while later, two splashes broke the purple-red surface, and both of them surfaced again.

Wei Wuxian spat out a mouthful of bloody water, wiped his face — now smeared completely purple-red, looking even more wretched — and said, 'What’s going on?! Why is there no hole?!'

Jiang Cheng had indeed said there was an underwater hole beneath the Black Pond wide enough for five or six people to pass through at once, and the other clan members had in fact escaped through that very hole. Wei Wuxian had assumed it was just blocked by the Xuanwu of Slaughter’s body earlier and that was why they couldn’t find it. But now the Xuanwu of Slaughter’s corpse had moved position, and still there was no underwater hole where it had been coiled.

Lan Wangji’s hair dripped wetly, and he did not reply. The two exchanged a glance, and a terrifying possibility occurred to both of them.

Most likely… when the Xuanwu of Slaughter was in wrenching pain, its claws had wildly churned, collapsing underwater rocks, or it had kicked something, just so happening to block this one and only escape hole…

Wei Wuxian broke free from Lan Wangji’s arm and dove sharply into the water; Lan Wangji dove in after him. A thorough search, and still not a single opening, not even one wide enough for a single person to pass through.

Wei Wuxian said, 'What do we do now?'

After a silent moment, Lan Wangji said, 'Let’s go up first.'

Wei Wuxian waved a hand and said, '… Up we go.'

Both were utterly spent. They swam slowly to the shore and climbed out drenched in the same bloody purple-red. Wei Wuxian stripped off his clothes, wrung them out and shook them vigorously, unable to hold back a curse: 'Is this playing us? We thought if no one came to save us, we wouldn’t even have the strength to fight anymore, so we came and fought it. And after all that struggle we finally killed it, and then this bastard son of a turtle caves in the hole. Damn it!'

At that single ‘damn,’ Lan Wangji’s brow twitched faintly, as if he wanted to say something but held it back.

Wei Wuxian was still shaking his clothes and cursing when suddenly his legs buckled. Lan Wangji rushed forward to support him. Wei Wuxian took his arm and said, 'It’s nothing, nothing. Just exhausted. Oh, Lan Zhan, did you see that sword I grabbed in its mouth? Where is it?'

Lan Wangji said, 'It sank to the bottom. Why?'

Wei Wuxian said, 'Sank? Then never mind.'

The whole time he had clung to that sword, he had heard deafening screams in his ears, his whole body cold and his head spinning. That iron sword was surely no ordinary object. This Xuanwu of Slaughter beast had devoured at least five thousand people; when it dragged them whole into its shell, many of them must still have been alive. That heavy sword was perhaps the relic of some swallowed cultivator. Buried in the shell’s corpse pile for at least four hundred years, steeped in the deep resentment and agony of countless living and dead, it had absorbed the sound of their screams.

Wei Wuxian had originally planned to keep the sword and examine that piece of iron carefully, but since it had already sunk and they were trapped here with no way out, he’d leave it for now. If he brought it up too much, Lan Wangji might notice clues and it would only start another argument. Wei Wuxian waved it off, thinking, 'Truly, not a single good thing!'

He dragged his steps onward; Lan Wangji followed quietly behind. Before he had taken two more steps, Wei Wuxian’s knees gave way again.

Lan Wangji caught him once more. This time, he pressed a hand to Wei Wuxian’s forehead, thought for a moment, and said, 'Wei Ying, you… you’re very hot.'

Wei Wuxian put his own hand to Lan Wangji’s forehead and said, 'You’re very hot too.'

Lan Wangji took his hand away and said, his tone indifferent, 'That’s because your hands are cold.'

Wei Wuxian said, 'I do feel a bit dizzy.'

Four or five days ago, he had thrown all the crushed herbs from the perfume pouch onto Lan Wangji’s leg, and only gave the burn on his chest a cursory wipe. He hadn’t rested properly these past days, and just now he had tumbled into the corpse pile and pond water, so it had finally worsened.

Wei Wuxian had a fever.

He forced himself to walk a bit further, but the dizziness grew too much and he could go no farther. He simply sat down on the spot and said, puzzled, 'How come it caught so easily? I haven’t had a fever in years.'

Lan Wangji, disinclined to comment on that ‘so easily,’ said, 'Lie down.'

Wei Wuxian did as he was told and lay down; Lan Wangji took his hand and channeled him spiritual power.

After lying a while, Wei Wuxian sat up again. Lan Wangji said, 'Lie down properly.'

Wei Wuxian pulled his hand back and said, 'You don’t need to give me any — you don’t have much left yourself.'

Lan Wangji grabbed his hand again and repeated, 'Lie down properly.'

A few days before, Lan Wangji had lacked the strength to resist being bullied and teased by him; today it was finally Wei Wuxian’s turn to be powerless, with no choice but to let himself be arranged.

Yet Wei Wuxian, even lying down, couldn’t bear being idle. Soon he was complaining, 'It’s lumpy. Lumpy.'

Lan Wangji said, 'What do you want?'

Wei Wuxian said, 'I want to lie somewhere else.'

Lan Wangji said, 'Where do you want to lie at a time like this?'

Wei Wuxian said, 'How about letting me lie on your lap?'

Lan Wangji, his face blank, said, 'Stop fooling around.'

Wei Wuxian said, 'I mean it. My head is so dizzy — you’re not a maiden, what’s there to fear about lending me your lap?'

Lan Wangji said, 'Even if not a maiden, one cannot simply lie on another’s lap.'

Seeing him frown, Wei Wuxian said, 'I’m not fooling around; you’re the one being unreasonable. I’m not convinced, Lan Zhan — tell me, why not?'

Lan Wangji said, 'Why what?'

Wei Wuxian barely managed to roll over and lay on his stomach. 'Isn’t it always the same: everyone says “I hate you” with their mouths but likes you in their hearts — so how come with you it’s always an unpleasant face? You could say we’ve been through life and death together, but you won’t even lend me your lap to lie on, and you’re ready to lecture me again. Are you seventy or eighty?'

Lan Wangji said evenly, 'Your fever is making you talk nonsense.'

And indeed, perhaps it was the fever talking; soon, Wei Wuxian fell asleep.

While he slept, he felt as if he lay comfortably, as if he were truly pillowed on someone’s lap, with a cool hand resting on his forehead — very pleasant. Happy, he rolled about contentedly, and no one scolded him. When he rolled onto the ground, a hand gently patted his head and lifted him back onto the lap.

But when he woke, he was still lying on the ground — at most, a pile of leaves had been placed under the back of his head, making it a bit more comfortable. Lan Wangji was sitting far away, a fire kindled, the firelight turning his face as lovely as jade, warm and elegant.

Wei Wuxian thought, 'So it was a dream after all.'

Their own path to escape was cut off, and they were trapped in the cave, able only to wait for rescue from the Yunmeng Jiang Clan. Another two days passed. Throughout these two days, Wei Wuxian continued to run a low fever, waking and sleeping and waking again, relying entirely on Lan Wangji sporadically channeling spiritual power to keep his condition from worsening.

Wei Wuxian said, 'Ah. So boring.'

Wei Wuxian: 'Really so boring.'

Wei Wuxian: 'It’s too quiet.'

Wei Wuxian: 'Ah—'

Wei Wuxian: 'I’m hungry. Lan Zhan, get up and get some food. Get some of that turtle meat.'

Wei Wuxian: 'Forget it, I won’t eat it — the meat of a man-eating beast like this must be foul. Don’t move.'

Wei Wuxian: 'Lan Zhan, what’s with that look — so stuffy. Mouth shut and eyes shut, not talking to me, not looking at me. Are you doing Zen meditation? A monk? Right, your ancestors were monks. I forgot.'

Lan Wangji said, 'Be quiet. You’re still feverish. Don’t talk. Preserve your strength.'

Wei Wuxian said, 'You finally answered. How many days have we waited? Why hasn’t anyone come to rescue us?'

Lan Wangji said, 'It hasn’t even been a day.'

Wei Wuxian covered his face and said, 'Why is it so hard to endure? It must be because I’m stuck here with you. If Jiang Cheng had stayed instead, even trading insults would be more entertaining than this. Jiang Cheng! Where the hell did you go! It’s almost seven days!!!'

Lan Wangji thrust a branch into the fire, and that thrust carried a hint of sword intent; sparks flew up in a wild, slanted dance. He said coldly, 'Rest.'

Wei Wuxian curled up into a shrimp again, facing him, and said, 'Don’t tell me you’ve got it wrong — I just woke up and you’re telling me to rest again. Do you really hate seeing me awake that much?'

Retracting the branch, Lan Wangji said gravely, 'You’re overthinking it.'

Wei Wuxian thought, 'Impervious to oil and salt, immune to sword and spear. Even less interesting than the Lan Zhan from a few days ago, whose face was darker than a pot bottom from years of use, who had a tone in his voice, and who would bite when pushed. But that Lan Zhan is hard to come by, and I’m afraid I’ll never have a chance to see him again.'

He said, 'I’m so bored. Lan Zhan, let’s chat. You start.'

Lan Wangji said, 'What time do you usually sleep?'

Wei Wuxian said, 'That opener is so boring, so dry it makes a person really — not want to continue. But I’ll give you face and continue. I’ll have you know, at Lotus Pier, I never go to sleep before the chou hour. I often stay up all night.'

Lan Wangji said, 'Unrestrained. A bad habit.'

Wei Wuxian said, 'You think everyone is like you people?'

Lan Wangji said, 'It needs changing.'

Wei Wuxian covered his ears and said, 'I’m sick. I’m running a fever. Lan-er gege, can you say something nice? Cheer up this poor wretch?'

Lan Wangji shut his mouth and didn’t speak. Wei Wuxian said, 'Can’t do it? Alright, I knew it. But if you can’t say it, can you sing? How about a song?'

He had only said it casually, just to rub against Lan Wangji’s temper and pass the time, with no expectation at all that he’d agree. But who knew — after a long silence, a low, soft song began to drift through the empty cave.

Lan Wangji was actually singing.

Wei Wuxian closed his eyes, turned over, and sprawled out his limbs. 'Beautiful,' he said.

He said, 'What’s the name of this song?'

Lan Wangji seemed to murmur something softly. Wei Wuxian opened his eyes and said, 'What’s the name?'