Wangxian Oneshots

A Memory's Curse

Chapter 1: The Hunt

Summary:
A simple joint night hunt with the intent of fostering good sect relations and giving Lan and Jin juniors some relatively safe worldly experience becomes anything but safe when the latest victim turns up. Wei Wuxian, Lan Sizhui, Jin Ling, and Lan Jingyi find themselves scrambling to protect their juniors from a new threat in the shadows, one wielding an ability Wei Wuxian thought he'd long since seen the last of. Stalked by old traumas and once again trying to protect the people he loves, Wei Wuxian finds himself making the same choices as before, though hopefully this time they'll lead to a better ending.

“We should keep going. He’s been dead for a while, so it doesn’t help us with finding the spirit.” Contrary to Jin Ling’s harsh words, his face is pale, eyes darting everywhere but the slowly decomposing body of the dead rogue cultivator. Sizhui, Wei Wuxian’s perfect little unflappable ducking, kneels in the fallen leaves beside the corpse, his brow furrowed in a cute way that so reminds Wei Wuxian of Lan Zhan.

“We need to make sure we’ve taken note of all the differences first.” Sizhui gently refutes, “we don’t know why this victim was found so far from the others, or if it has to do with them being the first cultivator’s who’s died, or why they weren’t,” for the first time he hesitates, shooting a glance at the nearby hovering juniors before continuing, “hurt, in the same way as the others.”

“The lady at the village died after this one though, so even if this is different, it obviously went back to what it was doing before.” Jin Ling argues, though he’s still poking around, directing the two Jin juniors he’d brought with him to this dual Lan-Jin night hunt, and all around not acting like someone wanting to leave. Such a silly child, just like his uncle. Arguing just for the show of it.

“You should leave Sizhui alone! At least he’s doing something instead of standing around poking at leaves.”  Lan Jingyi turns from where he’s supposed to be keeping watch, including all three Jins in his disapproving glare.

“Senior Wei.” Sizhui speaks up again before the two of them can really get into it, and Wei Wuxian turns away from the rather entertaining, if poorly timed, exchange.

“Yes, my favourite duckling?” Wei Wuxian asks, stepping closer and ignoring Lan Jingyi’s grumbling that they aren’t birds.  Shows what he knows. All the disciples are little ducklings, juniors or not. Waddling along behind their leader, Lan robes pristine, Jin robes following the thematic colour. Absolutely ducklings.

“Can you look at this?”

Wei Wuxian should probably be embarrassed by how quickly he’s kneeling next to his son, but embarrassment is for people who are capable of feeling shame, and Wei Wuxian certainly is not one of them.  Not to mention that he’s playing as a fellow regular disciple on this night hunt, and for Sizhui to ask for his help means that he actually needs it.

“Anything for my most darling son.”  He chirps as Sizhui’s ears go red, already running his eyes over the corpse of the rogue cultivator, comparing it to the bodies back at the town.

Dead from a wound to the chest like the others, ribcage torn open like a fist was shoved inside. Brutally killed, but not torn to pieces, as if the attacker had been satisfied earlier than with the others. The first cultivator of the five dead, but, hmm. Something is different, though it’s hard to see what without the mess of gore that’d decorate the other victims. Something that sparks a sort of familiarity in Wei Wuxian, something that he’s seen before, in a way that makes him feel almost, haunted.

“These, it looks like they could be burns,” Sizhui says, finger tracing the air over the cultivator’s lower sternum.  Where the cultivator’s golden core would’ve rested before fleeing with their death. “But there’s no traces of fire or ash. And I didn’t notice it on any of the other victims even with the added, ah, damage. Still, I’ve thought about what it could be, and nothing seems to match.”