Chapter Text
It starts with a kite, of all things.
“What?” Wei Wuxian asks, hoping he’s heard wrong. “The damned Wens took our sixth shidi away?”
“Yes! The Wens have arrived in the hall!” says the young disciple sitting on the wooden floor before Jiang Cheng, the low light of dusk accentuating the fearful cast of his face.
Alarm shoots through Wei Wuxian’s chest, and he hopes it’s not who he thinks it is. But even if it is, no, especially if it is, it's up to him to deal with it.
No, it’s up to them to deal with it, he’s reminded as Jiang Cheng, sitting to his left, lets out a sharp breath. It's up to them.
At least he won’t be facing this alone.
They run to the receiving hall, only slowing, wordlessly, to a walk when they can hear voices, Madam Yu’s and… Wang Lingjao’s?
The fact that it’s not Wen Chao and his terrifying lapdog there to melt the cores of every cultivator in Lotus Pier nearly makes Wei Wuxian lightheaded with relief.
That lasts only a moment, though-- they still have a situation that could very well end in disaster.
What’s that floozy doing here?! He thinks incredulously.
“Because he harbored evil intentions and disrespected the Wen Clan. I’ve sent him to be punished.” He hears Wang Lingjao say smugly.
Anger goes through Wei Wuxian like a lightning bolt, and it's a struggle to keep his voice steady as he says, “How could sixth shidi have evil intentions?”
Wang Lingjao laughs snidely as the two of them enter, looking at them superiorly, like she has power over them (she does, and it fills Wei Wuxian with rage).
Still with that smile that signals only bad things to come, she motions to one of her underlings, who comes forward and hands her… a kite?
She throws it down, as if the object itself is somehow contemptible. “The evidence is conclusive, and you’re trying to deny it?”
“It’s just an ordinary cyclops kite.What are you trying to say?” The seething anger and his genuine confusion make Wei Wuxian’s voice flat.
“Why must he pick this circular cyclops kite among all the other kinds of kites?” she says, striding forward, and if Wei Wuxian wasn’t trying to figure out what the hell she was going on about, he would tell her that it’s an easy kite for a beginner to make and shoot, because sixth shidi is seven. He can barely pull back the string on a bow, much less hit a kite without a big target or fold something more complex!
“Too much of a coincidence!” she continues, like that makes any sense. She stops walking to stand in the middle of the room. She looks at Madam Yu.
“So?” Yu Ziyuan asks, but to those that know her, it’s more like a statement. Said statement is that the woman in front of her is an idiot willfully drawing legs on a snake and worth less than the goose shit she has Jihnzu and Yihnzu scrape off her shoes every night.
“Madam Yu, are you feigning ignorance?” Wang Lingjao titters derisively.
She goes on to explain how the red cyclops kite represents the red sun of the Wen clan, and how shooting it is an act of rebellion.
That’s nonsense! Did she smoke an excess of mabo?!
“You can always make excuses to blame someone!” he scoffs, very wisely (and by the skin of his teeth) clamping his mouth shut before he can make any comment about the mabo.
“Shut up!” Madam Yu spits before he’s finished talking, and he only stops himself from wincing by sheer force of will.
She’s always been able to tell when Wei Wuxian is thinking about making mischief, but even he can tell that now is not the time.
Madam Yu turns and stalks near-silently to the low table, the lotus emblem of the Jiang clan framed perfectly behind her as she takes a seat. Despite her seated position, she still seems to loom over the rest of the room.
“Did you come here just for this kite?” Madam Yu asks with carefully concealed scorn.
“Of course not!” the other woman says silkily. “I’m here to punish someone on behalf of the Wen clan and Young Master Wen.”
Dread starts to pool in Wei Wuxian’s stomach.
“Punish someone? Who?” asks Madam Yu.
Wei Wuxian has a feeling she already knows.
After pausing for effect, Wang Lingjao sweeps her arm around in a dramatic arc to point at Wei Wuxian.
“Him. He led others to riot on Mt. Muxi and almost ruined Master Wen Chao’s plan. Yunmeng Jiang must punish him severely,” she says, placing her hands on her hips. “I hope Madam Yu will set an example.”
Madam Yu narrows her eyes consideringly, and Wei Wuxian knows then that he won’t get out of here unscathed.
“A-niang!” Jiang Cheng cries, and Wei Wuxian wishes he wouldn’t.
Disagreeing with her only ever makes things worse.
“Be quiet!” Madam Yu snaps.
“This Wei Ying, if I remember correctly, is the son of a servant. Clan Leader Jiang is not here right now,” Wang Lingjao says, faux-thoughtfully. “I believe the trade-off is clear.”
The dread in Wei Wuxian’s stomach turns from a trickle to a flood, and he tightens his fists as his hands start to shake.
“Otherwise, if the Jiang clan covers for him,” she continues in a mocking, almost singsong voice, “it’ll make others question if the rumors are actually true.” Wang Lingjao giggles treacherously.
“What rumors?” Jiang Cheng takes a few steps forward.
Wei Wuxian has heard the rumors, of course, though he has opted to not share them with Jiang Cheng. So he understands why this is such a sore spot for Madam Yu, and he can’t help but grimace as Wang Lingjao continues.
“What else? Just the former love affairs of Clan Leader Jiang,” she says with a lilting voice.
“You!” The dread in Wei Wuxian’s gut turns to rage, which boils over and he rushes forward to-- to do what, he isn't sure, but the crack of a whip and a bright starburst of pain on his thigh bring him to one knee before he can do more than draw back his fist.
He clenches his teeth as he hears Madam Yu come towards him, the measured thud of her shoes on the wood floor a sharp contrast to his racing heart. He doesn’t move.
“A-niang! No!” he hears Jiang Cheng cry.
“Jiang Cheng,” Wei Wuxian calls, despite the sweat beading on his brow, “leave it.”
The dread is back with a vengeance, curling into his limbs even as he makes himself stay stock still, waiting as Madam Yu nears.
He can take this! For Lotus Pier, he can take this!
As she speaks, her words lash him to ribbons, cutting into him just as thoroughly as Zidian.
“I’ve always said, your imprudence and recklessness will get the Jiang Clan in big trouble one day!”
Then the actual whip hits his back. Once, twice, thirty five times the spiritual weapon strikes across his spine, electricity crackling from its length through what feels like his very bones, to ground itself in the wood beneath him. The current locks his muscles in place and his back goes numb after the first dozen lashes. He tastes coppery blood on his tongue.
Then, blessedly, it's over, the lashing stops and he collapses to the floor as his muscles unclench. He pants hard, whole body shaking as he struggles to swallow the blood in his mouth.
He hears Zidian return to Madam Yu’s finger, and the relief brings tears to his eyes even as he distantly makes out Jiang Cheng calling his name.
“Oh? Is that all?” a sickly sweet feminine voice cuts through the buzzing in his ears.
His blood turns to ice in his veins.
He’s sure suddenly that he’s going to die.
And so what if I do?
The thought nearly takes him off guard, but this would be a fitting end to him, wouldn’t it? Killed to save the same clan that saved his life, took him in and turned him from a street rat into a thriving cultivator.
The ice in his veins melts, turns to acceptance, even as he hears Jiang Cheng protesting loudly behind him.
Aiyah, don’t be sad Jiang Cheng! I won’t be around to annoy you anymore now, eh?
Wei Wuxian smiles into the wooden floor, the expression not at its usual radiance, but bright enough.
He did the right thing. Saving Lan Zhan and, ugh, Jin Zixuan, was the right thing to do. He shouldn’t be punished, have to die, for that.
But he loves Lotus Pier, loves the Jiang clan. If he has to pay to save it, save the people in it, because of something he did, no matter how just-- he will.
It’s the least he can do.
“Madam Yu.” she starts, sickly sweet, “since this is a punishment, he has to remember this for the rest of his life.”
What?
His heart starts to pound deafeningly in his ears as his will to live that he had suppressed so succinctly roars back to life, so loud he’s surprised that he can hear their next words.
“What do you want?” Madam Yu’s voice is as hard as rock.
“Master Wen is merciful, he’ll let it go if you cut off one of his hands.”
Wei Wuxian’s breath freezes in his lungs and the buzzing returns to his ears.
Jiang Cheng yells a protest behind him, but it’s all background noise as he first regards his hands, then Madam Yu as she comes to stand before him. She towers over him, watching him with eyes like frost, killing off any emotion that she has for him in favor of cold practicality, predatory in her consideration.
His heart pounds, and he doesn’t hear the words that pass between her and Jiang Cheng, only knows that they make her angrier, her cold practicality turning to disdain and hate as the shadow cast by the lantern light frames her face menacingly.
How much is he willing to lose for Lotus Pier? He was just ready to lose his life, a hand is nothing!
…right?
“Madam Yu, I’m impressed with you. Well? Get on with it,” Wang Lingjao says when there’s a pause, sounding eager and darkly satisfied.
The fine hairs on Wei Wuxian’s neck prickle, standing on end as Zidian materializes once again and electricity crackles, crawling up and down the weapon’s length.
“Hold still brat, if you know what’s good for you.” Madam Yu says.
“A-Niang! No!” Jiang Cheng cries again, and Wei Wuxian can see him being held back by Jihnzu and Yihnzu out of the corner of his eye. Madam Yu ignores him.
Quick as the strikes of lightning it’s known for, Zidian curls around his left wrist with a skillful manipulation of Qi by Madam Yu, and the electrical current locks his muscles in place.
If the muscles of his jaw weren’t paralyzed, he’d tell her that it wasn’t necessary.
As it is, tears blur his vision and roaring white panic is threatening to encroach on his mind.
“Oh no, that won't do; we have to make sure he can’t pull something like this again, understand?” He hears a voice that he only distantly registers as Wang Lingjao’s say.
There’s a short pause before Zidian uncurls from around his left wrist to refasten itself around his right, his muscles not even getting a chance to unclench before the current returns. The spiritual weapon’s length sharpens in a way Wei Wuxian hadn’t been aware it could before tightening around his wrist.
Blood rushes in Wei Wuxian’s ears, and the panic hits him like a runaway wagon pulled by an angry Yao. He’s unable to close his eyes or look away as Zidian constricts, cutting through the flesh slowly with the smell of burning meat. White hot agony buzzes through his nerves. He’s aware that he’s screaming, the sound escaping through his clenched teeth.
The coil of the whip closes all at once.
Pain sings under his skin, through his whole arm, and the last thing he sees as his vision fades to nothing is the empty space where his right hand used to be.