The Fox and His Pup.

The Last Resort.

Taking Wei Wuxian to Gusu was much harder than originally thought.

Not only was the man's condition severe, but actually moving him proved difficult. One wrong move reopened his wound and left the forcefully unconscious Huli Jing writhing and fighting, even in his unaware state. To add to such complications, since Wei Wuxian's falling from his position, the Burial Mounds were slowly growing out of control again.

Resentful energy was beginning to suffocate the air, corpses prowled around and tried to attack at any given moment, no longer under strict orders to only attack intruders. Lan Wangji had taken to playing the song of purity, keeping the resentful energy at bay for only a short time.

But he did not have the power over this place that Wei Wuxian had, and since their arrival, both Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji truly bore witness to the 'fearsome' sect that Wei Wuxian had allegedly been trying to build.

The elderly, mothers, and non-cultivators. That is what was left of the Wen remnants. The only other cultivators amongst the sect were far too old to be useful, and Wen Ning was a fierce corpse now.

Every rumor that had spread through the winds was incorrect in every sense.

The terrifying Yiling Patriarch had no sect training to cause destruction, planning only on domination that focused solely on the dark arts of demonic cultivation. He had feeble and kind people under his care, who all were just as worried for him as Lan Wangji.

Though upon the realization that without the proper care and supplies, Wei Wuxian would not survive the journey from Yiling back to Cloud Recesses', Lan Xichen had taken his leave in haste. Promising to return as soon as possible with the supplies necessary.

Two days passed, and Lan Wangji watched every twitch and jerk of Wei Wuxian's body carefully. Taking his time to memorize every line of his face, the expressions he made throughout the days and nights.

His heart lurched in his chest every time he thought he could no longer see the Huli Jing's chest rise and fall with his breathing, and every time he would dive forward and check his vitals. And every time he would exhale deeply once he was sure Wei Wuxian was settled, only for his thoughts to betray his hope, plaguing his mind with the thoughts that this would be the final way he saw his beloved.

The terrible thoughts that he would never be graced with the smile that warmed his heart like the sun. He would never again hear the carefree and joyous laughter of the man whenever he found amusement in his antics. He would never know what it felt like to fall asleep at his side, hold him throughout the night and rest assured that he would never lose him.

Then there was Wen Yuan. The boy helped in every way he could think of, he tried with all of his might to carry as much straw into the cave as he could, laying the pieces down overtop the blood-stained straw bed. He would carry the last few clean pieces of Wei Wuxian's nest with him everywhere, only now having the ends tied around his waist by Wen Qing so they would no longer drag on the ground.

He would sit at Wei Wuxian's side dutifully, prepared to run to any of the adults for help just in case something went wrong. Despite the state the older Huli Jing was in, the toddler would still talk to him, playing with his straw-woven butterflies and other toys he possessed. He would tell the stories his mind created of his butterflies, determined to keep the demonic cultivator company, even though he could not play with the boy.

And finally, he would stick to Lan Wangji's side like glue whenever the dragon ventured too far away from Wei Wuxian, which was not often. The dragon did not comment on the child's clinginess, and Wen Yuan had yet to be turned away, so he did not venture far from his mother or the older Alpha.