Chapter Text
In the middle of a battlefield, hundreds against just two, Jin Zixuan and Jin Zixun argue back and forth. Surrounded by the roar of battle, both their tempers are running high and stress has made them narrow-minded.
But not so narrow-minded that Jin Zixuan does not notice the box clenched in his cousin’s hand. His son’s name is written on it in beautiful, flowing calligraphy, but the handwriting is unfamiliar. He knows Jin Zixun’s ability with a brush, and it does not match this delicacy.
It is Wei Wuxian's gift to his son, and the moment that thought registers, he snatches the box from Jin Zixun’s too tight grip.
Jin Zixuan has seen his cousin carelessly crush many things before, but this, whatever it is, belongs to his son.
Steps away from them, Wei Wuxian watches them with eyes that are gleaming dangerously red—no, in truth, he’s watching the box with unrestrained anxiety, like he’s terrified Jin Zixuan will smash it upon the ground.
Jin Zixuan has never liked Wei Wuxian, but there had always been part of him that acknowledged the young man’s tremendous skill, brilliance, and spirit. But looking at the dark-clothed man before him now, he couldn’t see a trace of that once widely-admired disciple. This man is too thin and too tense to be that person, wide-eyed and shaking over a gift. Wei Wuxian has always been defensive, but never to this degree. Or maybe he’s always been this scared and anxious, and this is just the first time Jin Zixuan has noticed. Who wouldn’t be afraid, surrounded on all sides by men that wanted him dead, without so much as a sword?
His men had planned on shooting a single, unarmed man dead in this valley. Just where did their pride go? Their honor?
With a deep breath,Jin Zixuan pushes his frustration aside, and tries to prioritize. “First, stop Wen Ning. His rampaging is only making things worse.”
Wei Wuxian watches him carefully with scarlet eyes. His voice is hoarse, and flat, as he replies, “Why don’t you make your men stop first?”
Everyone around them is shouting, and they are answered by horrible, guttural roars that make Jin Zixuan’s skin crawl. “Don’t be so stubborn! Once things calm down, you can come back to Koi Tower with me and sort everything out! If you aren’t the one who placed the curse, you’ll be fine!” His father will see reason, surely, if Wei Wuxian proves his innocence. More so, if he hears Wei Wuxian willing surrendered and handed himself over to Jin Zixuan.
Appeasement, however, has never been Wei Wuxian’s specialty. He sneers, “Calm down? Once I stop Wen Ning, every single archer here is going to lock on to my heart! And you think anyone would listen to me at Koi Tower?”
“They won’t shoot!” Jin Zixuan denies, but Wei Wuxian just laughs bitterly.
“Really? How can you be sure? Tell me, when you first invited me, did you really not know they were planning to kill me?”
Jin Zixuan actually flinches at that, outrage rushing in his veins. As if he would ever do something as shameless and cowardly as scheme to murder his own guest. Just Wei Wuxian insinuating that he would do such a despicable thing has him furious. “How dare you! Are you insane?”
Wei Wuxian’s voice doesn’t sound insane—in fact, it sounds remarkably steady as he coldly threatens, “Just give it back and get out of my way.”
It’s every moment of their animosity-filled youth all over again, and Jin Zixuan can suddenly remember every time this man punched him with vivid clarity. “Why can’t you just back off this one time?” Jin Zixuan yells, unable to keep his frustration down any longer. He lunges forward to seize Wei Wuxian, but a black and white blur slams in between them, shattering the ground under their feet. The Ghost General lashes out with a terrifying snarl, and Jin Zixuan’s heart stops beating.
His eyes are closed in anticipation for the oncoming blow, but no pain comes. In the next instant he throws himself back, and realizes the Ghost General has done the same, recoiling with a wary hiss. Something silver gleams in the corner of his eye, and he realizes the box he is holding has slipped open, revealing a brilliant bell of pure silver, with gorgeous, intricately-carved lotus petals flowing up its curves.
Realizing how closely their heir just brushed death, all disciples in the valley turn their bows on Wei Wuxian and let loose. Jin Zixuan’s command comes too late to stop the hundreds of arrows slicing through the air.
The Ghost General moves to defend, but he is just a moment too slow. Only a few of the arrows need to make their mark.
Three do, seemingly sprouting from Wei Wuxian’s back like branches from a tree, and the Yiling Patriarch drops. Jin Zixuan sees his face turn white as he collapses, just for a brief moment, before a deafening scream tears through the valley. The sudden, horrible noise has them all flinching, and the Ghost General seizes his master and flees. He tears through all that try to stop him, blood flying through the air, but Jin Zixuan is rooted to the ground, unable to defend anyone on either side.
One moment, Yanli’s beloved little brother had been there, and the next he was gone. I didn’t think they would really shoot , he wants to say, to excuse himself, and he feels numb all over. From his quivering fingertips to his frozen feet, he feels nothing.
A-Li, I swear I didn’t think they would shoot. I swear I didn’t know.
But his ignorance didn’t change the fact that they had lured Wei Wuxian into a death trap.
The Jin disciples hesitantly celebrate as they make their way back to Koi Tower, and Jin Zixuan is too shaken to silence them. He’s still clutching the bell, enclosed carefully back into its box, too scared of dropping it to put it away as they ride their swords through the open air.
Jin Guangshan awaits their return with a smug smile, Jin Guangyao behind him. Jin Zixuan has no stomach to look at either of them now, and he storms by them even as they try to stop him. Treating his father with such disrespect is unforgivable, but everyone else seems to have abandoned their pride and dignity today, so he doesn’t see why he must cling to his.
Yanli is waiting for him beyond them, clearly worried, and Jin Zixuan freezes in place at the sight of her.
He doesn’t know what to say. She didn’t know about the murder plan, and he hadn’t dared lose any time when he first figured it out, so he rushed off without telling her a thing.
Now she is standing before him, and he has to tell her her little brother is—is what? Maybe dead? Maybe dying? Maybe alright, if he gets to a doctor fast enough? Critically injured, in the arms of a feral fierce corpse?
He looks at the box in his hands and wishes it contained the answers.
At first, Jin Guangshan throws a banquet and everyone celebrates. They start to plan their raid of Yiling, and how they are going to dispose of any dangerous elements remaining there. Except, the party proves too hasty.
After all, the curse on Jin Zixun does not break, and a new sense of unease descends upon Koi Tower. Either the Yiling Patriarch really wasn’t the source of the curse, or he is still alive. Both, Zixuan hopes, as he paces back in forth in front of Yanli’s rooms. Others have started to fear the possibility of retaliation, which Jin Zixuan wishes they would have considered before they launched this whole stupid plan in the first place. There’s been no word from Yiling, good or bad, but that doesn’t mean anything. All patrols sent to the Burial Mounds are either repelled by the army of fierce corpses or perish; those that are strong enough to break through the relatively benign defenses do not come back whole, torn apart by a rapid Ghost General. No one gets far up the mountain, and no one comes down it either. The people of still growing Yiling City are anxious, and unexpectedly outraged on the Patriarch’s behalf. They refuse to cooperate, and laugh snidely at the cultivators that are tossed off the mountain.
Several days pass like this, and Jiang Cheng arrives at Koi Tower, absolutely furious. This fury makes all his previous fits, all those times Jin Zixuan cruelly spoke poorly of Yanli, look tame. Though Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng are—were?—officially on bad terms, Jin Zixuan can tell now that that meant nothing. The Jin Sect had tried to under-handedly murder Jiang Cheng's adoptive brother, and may have even succeeded.
Jin Zixua suspects that the only things still maintaining the alliance between their two sects are his marriage and Jin Ling, and one of those may not last. He hasn’t been married for long, but it feels like his marriage is crumbling in his hands, and that terrifies him. Yanli refuses to see anyone except Jiang Cheng and A-Ling, and Jiang Cheng is almost bloodthirsty in his fury. Jin Zixuan dares not press the issue.
Jiang Cheng is not the only one looking at the Jin Sect with a freshly wary eye; rumors are spreading through countless loose tongues. Neither Jin Zixun nor his father expected the Yiling city-folk to take the Patriarch’s side and whisper vindictively in every open ear how the Jin Sect invited the Yiling Patriarch into their halls, and tried to kill him.
It’s not simply a matter of a breach of hospitality, which is shameful enough; it puts the honor of the entire clan into question. Attempting to murder their own guest, even one as reviled as Wei Wuxian—who is to say a reputable clan leader will not be next? The Wen had performed nearly all possible despicable deeds, but not even they had ever slaughtered those they invited to celebrate the births of their children.
Jin Guangshan denies the matter entirely, unable to even claim that it was for the greater good until, at the very least, Wei Wuxian’s death is confirmed. After all, if the Patriarch isn’t dead, then the Jin Sect’s deplorable actions may very well bring a greater disaster upon all their heads.
This could mean war, and for what? Jin Zixun is clearly still dying, their reputation is declining, the Burial Mounds and the Tiger Seal are still out of their hands, and they had lost the trust of the sects closest to their own.
It had been a foolish plan from the start—that much is obvious now, so the question is, why did his father think it was a good idea?
Jin Zixuan's father had always, always been a cautious man, and had never been one to act so rashly, so crudely, in a way that could so clearly backfire.
It is almost like the plan had been designed to backfire.
He pulls the box out of his sleeve for the countless time in the past few days, and stares at its contents once more. The bell has always been the Jiang Sect’s symbol, as the peony has always been the Jin’s, but for the first time Jin Zixuan sees the two as distinctly separate. In his hands he holds the very embodiment of familial devotion—a simple babble that proves even an adopted, defected child like Wei Wuxian is still hopelessly dedicated to the Jiang family—and on his chest is the wilting symbol of a family he’s just now realizing may be trying to kill each other.