Chapter Text
Mo Xuanyu gets caught.
Mo Xuanyu is afraid- he will not lie- but he doesn't know why now .
It's been months since he called upon the malevolent spirits that floated around Mo Village and used them for his own purposes. What else could he do? He hadn’t formed a golden core yet and he was already weak from the numerous injuries he had.
Mo Xuanyu had thought then, that it would be better to die, to just cut a deep enough gash into his arm and let himself bleed out. Of course, that simple plan was before he realised he could offer his body to the Yiling Patriarch in return for revenge. The Soul Summoning ritual was one he had studied in the light of a small candle, head bent and paper littered all over the floor.
But there was a problem.
Whatever anyone said about him- and people said a lot about him- there were a few truths. One of them was that he was a coward, and Mo Xuanyu will admit to this because he was. He had been too much of a coward to stop his cousin, and later, his bullies. He had been too much of a coward to speak out about what he knew about his- about Jin Guangyao and Xue Yang and Su She. It didn't come as a surprise to him that he'd be a coward when facing death too. The thought of the act itself terrified him, and even if it didn't, there was still another major problem…
The Yiling Patriarch was lost.
Or rather, his soul was. Mo Xuanyu had heard the various rumours, about the summonings, about the Inquiries played, about the relentless hunt for a body that was not there. If the Patriarch didn't want to be found, how could he, Mo Xuanyu, summon him? What would happen if he died trying to summon the Patriarch’s soul only for it not to work?
What would happen was this: Mo Xuanyu would be found lying dead in an array drawn in his own blood. How would that help him achieve his revenge? His efforts would be for naught.
And so, Mo Xuanyu had bided his time and tended to his injuries as much as he could. He stopped exerting so much energy and did not tear gashes into his own arms to power his talismans or arrays. When his cousin and the servants came to taunt and punch him, Mo Xuanyu gritted his teeth, bore the pain and vowed to repay it tenfold. There was work to be done.
On a moonless night, Mo Xuanyu had called forth the spirits that haunted Mo Village and watched from his flimsy little shed as the walls spattered with blood and screams abruptly cut off. The modified and more specific Spirit Lure talisman that he had stuck onto the walls had effectively channeled the spirits’ resentment onto particular members of the household. When the spirits quenched their thirst for blood, they retreated. The air turned suddenly vacant in their absence and things would seem normal if it weren’t for the limbs strewn around the once pristine courtyard, intestines ripped out and strung along like a particularly gruesome ornament and walls streaked in red as if for a wedding.
Mo Xuanyu gathered the last bit of his strength, broke open the doors and gathered all the valuables he could find. He would need robes- clothes that weren’t tattered or torn- would need to buy food to keep him going, and once far enough away, enough money to buy a small house somewhere.
Mo Xuanyu would be long gone by the time the Jiang disciples would arrive after getting a plea for help from the terrified villagers, but Jiang-zongzhu knows all too well what demonic cultivation looks like- has spent so much of his time pinpointing the sources and chasing such people that he understands at once. The remains of the people inside are barely existing, blood and bone lying about as if they were in a graveyard- torn apart so completely that they all wonder what could have caused so much resentment. It is hard to tell which body part belongs to who but they clean up the mess and Jiang-zongzhu narrows his eyes when he hears of the lunatic thrown out of Jinlintai, abhorred by the last masters of the Manor.
But Mo Xuanyu does not know of this, several li away already by virtue of coaxing his stubborn donkey forward with a red apple. He stays hidden in the forests, green robes draping him and silver threads of moonlight spun like cobwebs on the surface of the rivers and streams he comes by. Days pass, Mo Xuanyu runs.
One day, he thinks he’s run far enough to wash off the paint on his face- no more the lunatic of Mo Manor, no more the illegitimate and unwanted bastard of a cultivator father, no more the disgusting cutsleeve who dared to set sights on his own brother. He’s just Xuanyu now, maybe even something else if he wished to be- if he could bear the thought of leaving the only thing his mother gave him behind as well. He could be Xuanyu, not Mo, not Jin- just Xuanyu, and he would ride his donkey till he stopped- or maybe he wouldn’t stop at all- maybe he’d settle down somewhere, maybe he’d-
His thoughts are his only companions and Lil Apple as well of course. Briefly, he’d entertain the idea that everyone thought him dead and that maybe Yao-ge would-
But no, he wouldn’t. He’s the one that sent him away, there’s no reason for him to grieve for a brother, not in the way Xuanyu had grieved when he learned what treachery meant. Jin Guangyao wouldn’t and Qin Su, his kind, sweet sister-in-law wouldn’t either. She had been disgusted by him the last time he saw her. But then who would?
His mother would have- if she had been alive. His father wouldn’t. Jin-furen had hated his guts and she wasn’t alive right now anyway so no use even wondering. Jin Guangyao’s Er-ge had been nice to him but he was just being polite. Some of the servants in Mo Manor had been kind- would make sure he at least had rags to wrap and rub the blood off after his cousin’s ‘visits,’ but they only pitied him. Would- would Nie-zongzhu? They weren’t friends and Nie-zongzhu is important- but they only knew each other through Sao-zi and Jin Guangyao, even though he had learned about art and fans and face paint from the man. But no, Nie-zongzhu had Jin Guangyao and his own sect to worry about. So who was left then? His nephew only saw him very rarely and they didn’t have a close bond and he was always working so hard to please Jin Guangyao anyways- to earn his keep.
Huh, Xuanyu thought, urging Lil Apple along, there really isn’t anyone to mourn me, who would care if I was gone. This thought should probably have made him sadder than he currently was, but Xuanyu had gone through worse- his entire life had been hell from the moment he had been born- and these past few days had been one of his few happy moments. He was thankful. No one to mourn him, no one would get hurt or sad by caring for him, and no one would look for him. It was almost too perfect.
And as they say, if something is too good to be true…
Mo Xuanyu gets caught.