What if dying in the Burial Mounds wasn't the end? What if fate pulls on the strings of reality and gives Wei Wuxian infinite chances at life? If this was truly the case, how would Wei Wuxian spend those lives?
Hello! Guess which author promised daily updates only to skip out on an entire week! I apologise for my lack of updating. I will try to to keep pumping out these chapters as quickly as possible. Hope you enjoy today's chapter!
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Standing in the tranquil hall, its atmosphere steeped in an air of reverence, Lan Qiren, the epitome of authority, stood tall amidst his group of Guqin players. Their collective objective was to identify who the man that flew into the Burial Mounds truly was—one that would unveil the hidden truths within Wei Wuxian's essence. Wei Wuxian, however, remained resolute, unburdened by fear. He had not once dabbled in demonic cultivation since acquiring his new body, and no matter how diligently the elders searched, they would find nothing but the elegant and peaceful traces of spiritual energy that now coursed through him.
Wei Wuxian assumed a kneeling position on the cool stone floor, unfazed by the stern tone in Lan Qiren's commanding voice. "You shall maintain your position here while we play," Lan Qiren declared with unwavering authority. "Should you attempt to resist or engage in any actions contrary to our instructions, we shall secure you with bindings and proceed with the playing. Is that understood?" At that moment, Wei Wuxian couldn't help but feel a twinge of nostalgia—a reminiscent pang of his mischievous youth. He envisioned himself, a mischievous fifteen-year-old, half-heartedly listening to Old Man Lan's lectures while hurling paper balls at Lan Zh-Wangji, and aiding Nie Huaisang in his attempt to cheat in his new examination to please his brother.
However, the jarring sound of Lan Qiren's voice swiftly brought him back to the present, reminding him that the past could never be fully recreated. "Do you understand?" Lan Qiren reiterated, his agitation notable. Wei Wuxian responded with nonchalance, eager to bring this ordeal to an end so that he could sever his ties with Gusu forever. He never wanted to come back. It would have been easier for both parties to stop acknowledging one another.
With a dismissive tone, he replied, "Yeah, yeah," his words laced with impatience. He already knew the elders would not be able to trace any resentful energy back to him so he considered this a waste of time.
Yet, amidst the tension, a sudden interruption shattered the stillness of the hall—the sound of hurried footsteps echoing through the space. All heads turned towards the door, where a new figure emerged, casting a commanding presence. "Wangji!" Lan Qiren exclaimed, his brows furrowing in surprise. Lan Xichen, too, was taken aback, his gaze shifting between his brother and his uncle. "Brother, why are you here? You should be resting," he urged, genuine concern resonating in his voice. Wei Wuxian's eyes were drawn to a disconcerting sight—a faint hue of crimson staining the pure, white robes of the esteemed Lan Sect. It was a sobering reminder of the punishment Lan Wangji had received and he interfered with in a previous life—a memory etched deeply into his consciousness. Jiang Wanyin, too, noticed the stain, though he chose to remain silent, offering nothing more than a disdainful scoff before averting his gaze elsewhere.
Unfazed by the conspicuous blemish on his garments, Lan Wangji appeared oblivious to the scrutiny. He addressed his brother directly, his voice calm and composed. "I heard a commotion. I came to ensure that all is proceeding smoothly." The two brothers engaged in a silent exchange, their eyes conveying a multitude of unspoken messages. Ultimately, it was Lan Wangji who emerged victorious, his silent plea prevailing. "Brother, you may stay and observe, but remember to take care of yourself," Lan Xichen relented, hastening to procure a seat for his brother. Jiang Wanyin surmised that Lan Xichen had decided to grant Lan Wangji permission to witness their endeavor—this ridiculous search for resentful energy within Wei Wuxian's being. Suppressing a biting remark, Jiang Wanyin scoffed inwardly, silently reminding himself not to incite unnecessary enmity with the formidable Lan clan.
Without further delay, Lan Qiren resumed his discourse, his determination unyielding. "We shall delay no longer," he declared, his gaze shifting towards the group of elders, their skilled hands poised above the strings of the ancient Guqin instruments. "Seek out any lingering traces of resentful energy within this man. You may commence."
As the elders began their intricate dance of strumming, an enchanting melody unfurled, its harmonious notes weaving a tapestry of ethereal beauty. The music seemed to transcend the physical realm, morphing into a tangible energy that enveloped Wei Wuxian. The very air around him shimmered with a radiant azure glow, a testament to the intensity of the search. Intrigued, Wei Wuxian observed with piqued interest as the melodies turned into cascading waves of vibrant energy, swirling and encircling him in a mystical embrace. Each passage of music produced a peculiar sensation—an amalgamation of fascination and weariness. It was as if he were a cloth, perpetually wrung, drained of his vitality with each passing note. The weight of countless eyes bore down on him, yet his fatigued mind lacked the capacity to register their piercing scrutiny.
Unease gnawed at Wei Wuxian's thoughts, disrupting the numbing haze that had settled over him. "This is not how it should feel," he mused internally, his perception of reality growing increasingly blurred. As the song neared its climax, his consciousness was seconds from fading, suspended by a fragile thread of awareness. With the resonation of the final note, it was as though that fragile thread had been severed, causing his body to collapse onto the cold stone floor like a discarded straw doll—limp, lifeless, and utterly devoid of vitality.
The hall fell into an unnerving silence, the collective breaths of those present suspended in anticipation. There were no traces of resentful energy in the man. Wei Wuxian was successful in hiding his identity. Without the presence of dark cultivation, nobody could link him to Yilling Louzu.
Lan Xichen was the first to speak up. "I believe we have held up our end of the deal, Sect Leader Jiang. I, as the sect leader of Gusu Lan, propose that we keep this man in our sect for three months. After that, the man shall be set free. we have already proven that he is not Wei Wuxian. Think of these three months in The Cloud Recesses as punishment for him sneaking around the Burial Mounds."
Jiang Wanyin did not seem pleased with the agreement but with no other choice, he reluctantly agreed. He stormed out of the building and left with his Lotus Peir disciples.
Lan Xichen turned to look at the unconscious man on the floor. "Bring him to the guest quarters. He shall rest there". The servants carefully lifted the man, dragging him out of sight. As soon as the man was gone, Lan Wangji spoke, "Why did you decide to keep him here? He will be a burden to our sect." Lan Xichen sighed. "You've seen the results. This man doesn't contain resentful energy and is therefore not Wei Wuxian. If I left him with Sect Leader Jiang, he will take out his embarrassment on the man. Sect Leader Jiang is a prideful man. His ego doesn't take well to being incorrect."
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Hello everyone. Today's chapter is slightly longer to make up for the fact that I haven't updated in forever! I hope you enjoyed.
Comments and tips appreciated as always. Have a wonderful day!
