It's been thirteen years since Lan Zhan was last in a room with Wei Wuxian, but its been five minutes since he saw Wei Ying teaching art online. Devising a complex plan to save Wei Ying from being framed from murder, Lan Zhan throws his life and he...
Humidity rose and blanketed the entire region, the pretty pinks and violets of the lotus flowers, amid the vivid green of the land around the lakes seemed garish next to the scene of a slaughter.
The only thing worse, were the flies.
Disciples, some wounded, some only returning home now were gathered on the outskirts of Yunmeng. Police had cornered off the area and Sect members who could answer questions were taken somewhere quiet away from the blood.
In the center of the courtyard, Lan Zhan stood alone. At his feet was the body of Wen Zhuliu.
One of the most feared and loathed members of the Wen Clan was dead. The Core Melting Hand was sprawled where he fell, a trail of blood staining the corner of his mouth, right in the middle of the courtyard.
There was no trace of Wei Ying and that had terror living in chest. They had been here for two hours and had found nothing. Well, they had found too much to bear really, but nothing that could tell him where Wei Ying was.
The attack happened mid-morning and wasn't as successful in some ways compared to Gusu. The Jiangs had protected their buildings using Wei Ying's flame retardant talismans, that used the fire's energy to fuel itself in a brilliant feedback loop. The protective barriers had remained mostly intact and an alarm system had sounded, evacuating the compound quickly, through underground tunnels, built centuries ago and carefully maintained.
Of course even a small number of highly trained killers are a problem, but there were Wen corpses here too. The Jiangs had not gone easily.
The horror of it was still surreal, surrounding him without fully penetrating the fog of panic.
He had checked every building, called Wei Ying's name in the forest until his voice failed. He had personally checked every vehicle and called Wei Ying's phone at intervals until he realized it was lying on the carpet of the main home, right near the coffee table.
He had no clues where to expand the search and already called every hospital and clinic in Yunmeng. Interviewed as many of the surviving Jiang disciples that could talk to him. Nothing.
It had always been a standing invitation to come here, to see the ancient, beautifully carved lotus motifs and stunning architecture. To see all the sights that Wei Ying was so proud of and a world that seemed like Gusu, untouched by time.
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It was hard to believe that only a short drive away was the thriving massive city of Yunmeng, home to Furong, the technology giant owned by Jiang Fengmian. The company that bound cultivation with technology, giving the world so many of the inventions everyone relied on now.
From signal flare phone apps to fierce corpse detectors, talisman libraries and cookware. Furong was a household name and all three of the Jiang children worked in the business, at least part time. Jiang Cheng was the official sect heir and Wei Ying was Head Disciple, helping to run the Sect itself.
