The Tears of Thirteen Years

Chapter 14

Silver light gleamed in the darkness as Bichen swung through the air.

The ghoul fell to the earth as a pair of white boots landed gracefully on the rain soaked land, sheltered only partially by the forest that lay behind them.

The scent of the rain and the whisper of the trees were the only sounds beyond the battle raging between the fierce corpses and the lone cultivator.

Others feared the corpses but they were no match for the power level and experience of Lan Wangji.

Bichen arched through the air, covering the small distance between himself and the next ghoul, powered as much by his rage as it was by cultivation energy. Here, he could release the anger burning in his chest. Here in this fight he could use the weapons at his disposal to end the onslaught.

It did nothing to ease the pain of his heart.

Wei Ying would have laughed. He could hear it still, ringing through his memory as loud and as beautiful as the first day he had heard the sound of it, piercing the quiet of the Library.

He dropped a talisman to the ground to seal and destroy the remains, before turning to meet the attack from the next ghoul, tearing through the branches. Bichen reappeared at his hand and he blocked the oncoming attack easily, tipping his hand to throw the blade at the ghoul leaping from the tree branches.

As he spun avoiding the next attack, he removed the guqin from his back, each movement graceful and efficient. The strings vibrated with energy and a low strumming sound rang out over the clearing, before power erupted with the casual flick of callused fingers transformed into a blue wave of energy.

It struck the remaining ghouls with considerable force, obliterating the physical form they held. It was the work of a minute to throw the appropriate talismans onto the remnants, sealing then destroying the remains.

A white ribbon rose in the air, as chasing the breeze. The quiet returned and with it, a soft sigh could be heard, breathed from a chest aching with loss.

----

The scent of spice will always remind him of Wei Ying.

There are three chilies floating in the warm broth, watched intently by gold eyes, as if a demon might rise from the depths.

Lan Wangji takes another mouthful of a traditional tofu and rice dish, as he watches the chilies drift from one side to the other, like the boats in Yunmeng across to the Lotus Pier.

The innkeeper smiled at him and he nodded politely, the vivid blue of her dress standing out against the dark wood of the tables and seats. Despite their gratitude for his swift work, dispatching the ghouls, there was some apprehension when they recognized the Lan Sect robes. They had been expecting one of the cultivators from the smaller sects in the area... the ones who refused to aid them against the ghouls.

They feared that the fierce corpses were the work of Wei Ying.

He had come for that very reason, the whisper that a demonic cultivator was working in the area, carrying him much further than he had intended to travel. He had to check that it was not Wei Ying, even knowing that Wei Ying would never have been so disorganized. If he had been aware of the crimes, the demonic cultivator in question had committed, he would not have undertaken the journey, from his original night hunt.

As it was, he had arrived too late. The demonic cultivator had already left this area and then within an hour of his arrival, news that had reached this town, proclaiming that another Sect had captured the demonic cultivator.