in twilight; in the dead of night

iii. his first death

Despite being suspended in the air with Wen Zhuliu's grip around his throat as his only anchor, Jiang Cheng fought the dark edges of unconsciousness away as his heart hammered against his scarred and bloody chest. He'd long accepted his death from the moment they continued lashing him and re-twisted his useless, dislocated shoulder and branded him. He'd accepted no one was going to save him, but even he thought plummeting from the sky was a bit too dramatic for his tastes. Perhaps Wen Chao loved theatrics too much.

He forced his lips to move when they hovered above the highest peak of the Burial Mound's mountains. He would get the last laugh no matter what. "Do your worst, Wen Chao. When I die, I'll come back as a vengeful ghost and haunt the rest of you Wens until you find no peace!"

The hand around his neck tightened but he only levelled Wen Chao with his own glare that could rival his mother's. They were mother and son, after all. Wen Chao, to his credit, only smirked challengingly and sneered, "And I will wait for you, Jiang-gongzi. What could a mere ghost do against the mighty Qishan Wen!"

Wang Lingjiao, whose body curled around Wen Chao, trembled slightly hiding her face with her sleeve. "What if he does come back?" she whimpered so only Wen Chao and Wen Zhuliu could hear, "Maybe we should get rid of him in a different way-"

Wen Chao growled, pulling her hair harshly and hissed through gritted teeth, "What would you know, whore. If you're afraid, run along!" He turned back towards Wen Zhuliu, Wen Ruohan's loyal dog, and jerked his chin forward. Enough dilly-dallying. His father would be proud to know he'd gotten rid of one of the sect heirs through his own means despite not being as proficient with a sword as his brother. This was a minor victory that would forever change the powers the major sects held over the cultivation world.

"Although our initial target was Wei Wuxian, a major sect heir is a worthwhile replacement too," Wen Chao snorted as if he found something he said entertaining. "Always the second choice, isn't that right Jiang-gongzi?"

Then, his anchor fell away. Before Jiang Cheng could retort, say something in defence because that wasn't true, he wasn't just second best, he was falling.

Wen Chao's disgusting cackle still rang in his ears. The Wen guard dog's hand around his throat left an imprint. The bitch's gleeful expression as she branded his torn chest replaced the look of terror on her face as he fell.

The mountains, the trees, and the shadows rushed up to meet him.

"Jiang Cheng!"

"Jiang-gongzi... save us!"

Screeches, demands, and wails greeted him.

"Jiang-gongzi, Jiang-"

He didn't know how he hasn't died on impact yet, but perhaps the vengeful spirits inhabiting the mountain found him useful enough to want his aid in exacting their thirst for blood and vengeance. How he didn't know. He no longer knew anything. His eyes remained closed.

"Avenge us!"

"Avenge your fallen kin!"

For a moment, everything -- every voice, every screech, and wail -- washed over him like Lotus Pier's waters that stilled in the early morning light. He remembered his childhood well, at least the pieces that made sense. He had three puppies once named Princess, Jasmine, and Little Love. They were his only friends when no other child wanted to associate with him because of his status. He was fine with that. It only meant he had more difficulty interacting with other kids his age. His only other friend was his sister, but even she had duties to attend to as they grew up. Then came an orphaned boy whose fear of dogs drove away his only friends, and Jiang Cheng reluctantly gained an older brother. He was still terrible at making friends.