Promise and Betrayal: A Mo Dao Zu Shi (the Untamed) Story

Chapter 23

The camp bursts into flames as we ride away. The fire persists even in the heavy rainfall, seemingly fueled by more than just wood and air. It lights up the path beyond us in brilliant orange light, acting as a beacon of bloodlust and revenge, a burning symbol of all dishonorable values of men.

Mud flies from the horses' hooves as they gallop fervently. We are a blur against the road, a fleet of two finely dressed cultivators and ragged freedmen. Wei Ying, carrying the unconscious Wen Ning, leads. I ride, alone, behind him to the right. Wen Qing, who carries an old lady, is to my left. The others follow behind.

Wei Ying's horse lets free a grand whinny at the crossroads. He reigns it in, trotting to a stop. The rest of us follow suit. I ride up to his side, the rain washing the mud spattered on my face away. When I reach him, I discover the source of our pause: Lan Zhan.

He stands alone. A single umbrella, painted with artful ink splatters, protects him from the rain. As I arrive, he raises his head from the ground. A look of pure pain—pain, pleading, and sorrow—glosses his eyes. It is sheer emotion he lays bare, vulnerable emotion so human it strikes me speechless. He turns those eyes to Wei Ying.

"Wei Ying," he shouts, his voice scratchy. "Must you? Come back with me."

Wei Ying stares down at his lover, the same emotion sparkling in his eyes. Except instead of pleading, there is regret. Regret for the time they will lose together if he chooses this path. Regret for a world that will never be. "Lan Zhan," he whispers back, laced with emotion. "I must. But if you call the others to stop me, I would rather die now by your blade." He holds out his flute in surrender, an invitation to strike him off his horse. A tear falls down his cheek.

I make no move to intervene. If Lan Zhan takes the opportunity—which I know he will not—it will fall to me to protect the Wen Clan. Even so, this is not my decision to make. Even if Wei Ying is my brother, I hold no influence in this field. I respect his desire to be felled by a friend instead of an enemy. Given the choice, I would make the same decision. So I stand back. And I bear witness to the love that is being torn apart.

Lan Zhan draws his sword, a tear leaking from his eye. Mid-draw, he lets the sword fall back into the sheathe. He lowers his gaze to the ground and steps out of our way. "Go, then. I will not stop you." As Wei Ying passes, his eyes fixed on the horizon, Lan Zhan looks at his lover's face for seemingly the last time. The thought pangs my heart, but there is nothing to be done. If Lan Zhan will not accompany us, they will not see each other for months. Maybe years.

I give Huanguang Jun a tip of my head as I pass him, but he only has eyes for the rapidly diminishing form of Wei Ying. The light of the fire burns in his eyes, a passion that is being tamped down, a hunger for what is right concealed. When I look back from a hundred yards away, the fire has died in his eyes. He stares at our backs with restrained sorrow, bordering on indifference. I look away. No need to dwell on the past when there is a different future that awaits me.

A future, I realize, where my secret may be divulged. But it may not matter. These people...they may not care that I am not what they believe. I had a hand in saving them. I stood up for them, even after what they did to my clan. If anything, they may embrace me with kindness and understanding. It is Wei Ying I am worried about.

The rain gradually lets up the farther we go into the mountains. I cannot ask Wei Ying where we ride over the mighty winds that persist, so I am forced to guesswork. My current conjecture is Yiling. But gods damn if I know where in Yiling.

When we reach Yiling proper, however, we continue to ride through the countryside at breakneck speed. I briefly consider the condition of the horses, but it matters not; after about an hour after passing downtown Yiling, we come to a stop. Wei Ying dismounts.