Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji set out at dawn, moving silently through the mist-laden forest. The early morning light barely penetrated the thick canopy of trees, casting long shadows across their path. They wore plain robes, their faces obscured by hoods, and they moved as shadows themselves, a mixture of stealth and determination guiding each step.
As they ventured further from the Cloud Recesses, an unnatural chill began to settle over the land. The once familiar sounds of the forest—birds, rustling leaves, trickling streams—had faded, replaced by an oppressive silence. Even Wei Wuxian, who had spent years facing danger and brushing off fear, felt a prickle of unease.
“Lan Zhan, do you feel that?” he asked, his voice low, almost a whisper.
Lan Wangji’s gaze was focused, his eyes sharp and alert. “The air is heavier here. As if something is lurking, waiting.”
Wei Wuxian nodded, sensing it too. It was as if they were stepping into another realm, one where light was scarce, and darkness ruled. They pressed on, exchanging few words, both acutely aware of the silence and the strange sensations creeping up their spines.
After an hour’s journey, the forest began to thin, and before them stretched the outskirts of the darkened village. It lay nestled at the base of a mountain, its buildings shrouded in an eerie fog. From their vantage point, the village looked abandoned, almost skeletal, as if the shadows themselves had gnawed at its very core.
Wei Wuxian tightened his grip on Chenqing, feeling its familiar weight in his hand. “Well, Lan Zhan, seems like we found ground zero.”
Lan Wangji’s gaze remained steady. “Proceed with caution. We do not know what awaits us here.”
With a quick nod, Wei Wuxian raised a concealing talisman, whispering an incantation as he infused it with spiritual energy. The talisman’s light flickered, wrapping both of them in a veil of invisibility. Together, they advanced toward the village, every step measured, every breath controlled.
As they crossed the village threshold, the air grew colder, and the strange silence deepened. Wei Wuxian could feel an energy thrumming beneath his feet, pulsing faintly, like a heartbeat in the earth. It was a sensation he recognized, a trace of resentful energy that resonated with the darkest parts of his own abilities.
“It’s strong here,” he murmured, his eyes scanning the empty streets. “The resentful energy is practically alive.”
Lan Wangji nodded. “This is no ordinary darkness. It’s concentrated, almost purposeful.”
They moved through the village, examining the buildings, which looked like they had been abandoned in haste. Doors hung open, tables were set with cold, untouched food, and a few scattered toys lay on the ground. It was as if the villagers had vanished into thin air, leaving everything as it was.
Wei Wuxian knelt beside one of the toys, a small wooden figurine, and picked it up, studying it thoughtfully. “Lan Zhan, whatever happened here… it wasn’t natural.”
Lan Wangji’s gaze was troubled as he observed the stillness around them. “This is unlike any curse or talisman I’ve seen. It’s as if something drained the life from this place.”
As they continued further into the heart of the village, they noticed the ground darkening beneath them. Strange, vine-like shadows crawled along the soil, weaving intricate patterns that radiated out from a central point—a dilapidated shrine at the far end of the village.
Wei Wuxian felt a pulse of energy emanating from the shrine, almost beckoning him. He glanced at Lan Wangji, who nodded, understanding his unspoken intent. Together, they approached the shrine, their senses heightened, their every movement laced with caution.

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Mischief in Gusu
Historical FictionSummary: When a mishap with the Mysterious Incense Burner transforms Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian into three-year-old toddlers, chaos ensues in the Cloud Recesses. The usually serene and disciplined Gusu Lan Sect is turned upside down as the two tiny...