Female Wei Wuxian AU

10

Wei Wuxian ran.

Her breath came in short, controlled bursts, her feet barely making a sound against the packed dirt of the forest path. The night air stung her cheeks, cool and damp with the threat of rain, but she welcomed the sting. It grounded her, reminded her that she was still alive - even if she didn’t quite feel it. 

There was no clear destination. Only the crushing need to escape.

Branches clawed at her sleeves as she pushed forward, weaving through the trees like a shadow fleeing the light. The moon peeked through the canopy in fractured slivers, silvering her hair, her robes, the sweat collecting at her temple. Behind her, Zhan Feng moved with unnatural ease. He was silent, eerie in the way only the dead could be, but she could sense his presence just as surely as she could feel her own panic threatening to rise again.

They didn’t stop until the lanterns of the Mo Manor had long disappeared behind them, swallowed by the trees and distance. Only then did she stumble to a halt, pressing her palm against the rough trunk of a tree to steady herself. Her other hand clutched at her chest, fingers curled tightly over the racing thrum of her heartbeat.

She was trembling.

Wei Wuxian let out a shaky breath and leaned her forehead against the bark, allowing herself a single moment of stillness, of vulnerability. Her thoughts churned in relentless circles, half-formed and jagged.

He was there.

Lan Wangji.

So close she could have reached out and touched him.

So close that if he had turned just slightly - if he had really looked at her, not just glanced - he would have seen everything. Not just the disguise or the clumsy way in which she carries herself. No, he would have seen her.

The real him.

Wei Wuxian. The ghost who wasn’t supposed to exist.

She clenched her jaw, forcing the swirl of thoughts back into the pit of her stomach. There was no point in spiraling now. It didn’t matter what he might have seen, because she had gotten away. Just barely. But she had.

And yet… 

For the first time since her return, a chill lingered beneath her skin that had nothing to do with the night air. A coldness that settled somewhere between her ribs and refused to leave.

Lan Zhan… you’re too close.

Too close to the truth. 
Too close to her.

Straightening, Wei Wuxian turned to look at Zhan Feng, the fierce corpse standing quietly at a distance. He watched her with hollow eyes, no judgment, no curiosity. Just endless silence.

“We have to keep moving,” she murmured, more to herself than to him.

Zhan Feng didn’t respond, but she knew he understood in whatever way fierce corpses did. He followed her as she walked again, her steps slower now, but more deliberate.

Eventually, the path wound back toward the manor’s outskirts. Nestled near the rear garden was an old donkey shed - half-collapsed and musty with disuse. A single donkey stood tethered to a post, ears flicking irritably as she approached.

He eyed her like she’d offended him just by breathing in his direction.

Wei Wuxian tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. “You’re a grumpy one,” she said aloud, as if accusing him of some personal slight.

The donkey brayed once - loudly, almost indignantly.

She blinked. Something about him - his stubborn gaze, his unimpressed snort - felt weirdly familiar. Like déjà vu wrapped in hooves and attitude. It was ridiculous, really, how a donkey could feel so oddly… right.