Chapter 19: A Crack in the Silence

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The morning mist clung thickly to the Burial Mounds, refusing to lift even as the first rays of sunlight pierced the sky. Wei Wuxian stood near the edge of a cliff, staring at the spot where the shadowed figure had vanished into nothingness just hours before. His fingers tapped rhythmically against Chenqing’s wooden body, his mind whirling with unease.

Behind him, Lan Wangji approached quietly, his robes ghosting over the damp grass. “You didn’t sleep,” he said softly, more observation than reproach.

Wei Wuxian let out a breath, not turning. “How could I? That thing... it didn’t just attack. It knew us, Lan Zhan. It knew me. It spoke like it had been watching all along.”

Lan Wangji came to stand beside him. “Its knowledge is what makes it dangerous. It speaks with the voice of resentment and twisted understanding. But it underestimated us.”

Wei Wuxian gave a small smirk. “Is that so? Because I recall barely surviving that onslaught.”

Lan Wangji’s gaze shifted to him, steady and calm. “But you did survive.”

That brief exchange brought a small, genuine smile to Wei Wuxian’s lips. But it quickly faded as he turned back toward the horizon. “We need answers, Lan Zhan. This isn’t just about dark energy or a vengeful spirit. This thing… it’s organized. Intelligent. Calculated.”

Lan Wangji nodded. “And familiar.”

Wei Wuxian’s hand tightened around Chenqing. “You felt it too, then.”

Lan Wangji looked away, the silence stretching between them. “It reminded me of the Stygian Tiger Seal.”

Wei Wuxian blinked, startled. “But I destroyed it—”

“Pieces of it,” Lan Wangji interrupted gently. “But what if someone found even a shard? What if that shard became the heart of something else—something worse?”

Wei Wuxian’s mouth went dry. The Stygian Tiger Seal had nearly torn the cultivation world apart. If even a fragment of it still existed, it could be manipulated. And now… maybe it was.

---

They returned to the main encampment near the base of the Burial Mounds, where Jiang Cheng, Lan Xichen, and Nie Huaisang were waiting, along with a few Lan juniors and Jiang disciples. The moment they saw Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji, Jiang Cheng stepped forward.

“Well?” he asked, voice low and tense. “What happened up there?”

Wei Wuxian sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “We faced a shadow figure—cloaked in resentful energy, intelligent, powerful. It summoned fierce spirit beasts and disappeared just as easily. But here’s the worst part: it knows us.”

The room grew colder.

Nie Huaisang fanned himself slowly, lips tightening. “Knows you? In what way?”

“It quoted the past,” Lan Wangji said, calmly but firmly. “It taunted us. It referenced the Yiling Patriarch and the Burial Mounds. It speaks like it’s been watching for years.”

Lan Xichen exchanged a worried glance with Jiang Cheng, who muttered under his breath, “Great. Another dark cultivator obsessed with Wuxian. Like we haven’t had enough of those.”

Wei Wuxian gave a dry chuckle. “I must have a fan club I didn’t know about.”

Nie Huaisang suddenly frowned. “Wait. What if it’s not someone new?”

Everyone turned to him.

“What do you mean?” Lan Xichen asked gently.

Nie Huaisang’s fan stopped. “What if this… thing… isn’t a stranger? What if it’s someone from the past—someone twisted beyond recognition by hatred, or… or even revived by something like the Stygian Seal?”

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