Moonlit Hearts

Chapter 13: Veiled Deceptions

"Lan Wangji, I was waiting for you!" she taunted, her voice a chilling melody that sent shivers down his spine.

Wangji's eyes, however, were drawn not to Hel but to the lifeless figure seated beside her – Wei Wuxian, the one he had tirelessly sought across realms. His heart sank as he took in the abyss of emptiness in Wei Wuxian's gaze, a once vibrant spirit now reduced to a haunting stillness.

"Come closer, come have tea with us, we were so lonely just the both of us," Hel jeered, her words dripping with malice. Wangji couldn't tear his eyes away from Wei Wuxian's lifeless form. The disbelief was overwhelming – how could the man who once laughed and lived so vividly be reduced to this?

"Tea?" Wangji's voice sliced through the spectral echoes, a mixture of disbelief and simmering anger. The shock of the moment seized him, but so did an undercurrent of fury at the goddess who held the answers. "What have you done to him?!" he demanded, the question hanging in the air like a plea for an explanation, a plea to reverse the incomprehensible reality before him.

Years of relentless searching, the hope that fueled his journey, and the emotional investment in finding Wei Wuxian – all shattered in the face of this grim revelation. The despair that gripped Wangji was profound, a heavy weight settling in his chest as he grappled with the irrevocable loss before him. The unknowns of Wei Wuxian's fate, the torment he endured in the pursuit of answers, now reached a painful climax, leaving Wangji in a whirlwind of disbelief, anger, and the overwhelming despair of a love seemingly lost.

"Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, how can you be so naive?" Hel's voice echoed, a taunting melody in the desolate chamber. "Do you think I forced him to come here? He chose this himself. Do you think he wasn't tired of all the hurt and sorrow he faced through the others?"

Wangji maintained an outward façade of stoicism, his features revealing nothing of the turmoil that surged within. His eyes remained fixed on his lover, a silent plea for understanding battling against the waves of confusion and despair that threatened to consume him. Behind the mask of composure, Wangji grappled with the revelation, questioning the choices that led Wei Wuxian to this desolate realm and the depth of suffering he had endured. The stoic exterior belied the maelstrom of emotions that raged within, a silent tempest in the core of his being.

"I'll let you have a look at him, at his beautiful eyes," Hel said before flicking her fingers. The pale figure stirred, lifting his head slowly, his eyes locking with Wangji's. However, the emptiness in his eyes was profound. No flicker of recognition or warmth remained. It was as if the vibrant soul Wangji once knew had been extinguished, replaced by a mere semblance of existence.

"He has found peace here, away from the tumultuous realms of the living. The ties that bind the living are but fleeting illusions," Hel intoned cryptically.

Wangji's fists clenched, a surge of conflicting emotions raging within him. The Wei Wuxian before him was a mere echo, a shell of the spirited man he had known. The goddess of death watched, her gaze indifferent to the turmoil unraveling in Wangji's heart. The chilling laughter resumed, an unrelenting echo in the realm of Hel. Each mocking note cut through him, a cruel reminder of the irreversible separation between the living and the dead. The weight of helplessness pressed upon him, a heavy cloak in the desolation of Hel's realm.

That's when he heard it, faintly, a sweet melody played by a flute. At first, too engrossed in the shocking revelation before him, he didn't recognize it. But now, as he concentrated, he could hear it clearly. It was Wei Ying's favorite melody, the same one he used to play. Wangji was confused. How was it possible? Wei Ying was in front of him, apparently dead, so how could he hear the melody? He looked at Hel; she smiled at him, but it was no longer a vicious smile. It seemed honest, as if the haunting notes of the flute held a secret that even the goddess of death couldn't conceal.