3rd Person POV
Wei Ying's destination was a desolate and uninhabited mountain in Yiling, far enough away from society that the risk of an outsider finding him or getting injured was at a minimum. As he walked, he whispered incantations under his breath, reassurances to hold back the flood that threatened to wash him away. He would never see his baby grow up. Never witness his first night hunt, never be there to tease him over his future crushes and partners, never be able to protect him from the world. Yet, he did not hesitate in his actions. For greater good.
Reaching his destination, he rested to build up his energy. It could take a couple of days for the Stygian Tiger Seal to be completely neutralised and so he needed to be in his best condition. After it had been dealt with, Wei Ying would activate a couple of his premade talismans full of dark energy that would hopefully carry him back to the Burial Mounds. The route was not far, so chances of success were reasonably high.
As the sun rose on the final morning, Wei Ying set to work. Instantly, he was thrust into a hellish reality of torturous pain. He felt like his insides were ripping out, his brain pounded in confusion, his eyes felt like someone had drilled a hole through them and blinding, burning, white hot coals seemed to be burning him. He was nauseous, and tired, and weakened. It was - if possible - worse than the sensation of having his core ripped out. But alas, after three solid days of excruciating disorientation it was done. The Stygian Tiger Seal was no more.
He would have taken a deep sigh of relief but the splitting pain and resistance he was met with whilst trying to breathe made it unbearable and sent him cringing. He desperately felt around without the aid of his sight or most of his hearing. Damn it was hard. He finally managed to stand while leaning on a large stick and felt around for the talismans in his pocket.
Got it.
Thud.
The hollow noise reverberated around his skull. He was violently thrown off of his feet. Hot blood bubbled up in his throat. An arrow. Buried deep inside his upper abdomen was an arrow. He felt around the wound trying to stop the weak flow of blood cascading over his robes. The talisman activated. He felt himself be pulled away as the talisman carried him home.
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Fear and resolve hung in the air at the Burial Mounds. They had been waiting for Wei Ying's return since he left. Even A-Yuan could sense the tension and quietened his previously boisterous actions. Finally, Wen Ning reported that he felt the talisman's energy drawing nearer and the crowd gathered jubilantly. He hadn't died in the process.
But as Wei Ying's body came into focus, the joy was replaced by screams. The Yiling Laozu had returned bathed in his own blood, a well crafted arrow buried deep in his abdomen. His head lolled, blank eyes staring and face contorted into a grimace.
Wen Qing beat Lan Zhan to the body.
"He's alive!" She cried. "Quickly carry him to his room so I can treat him."
The desperation was clear in her voice and Lan Zhan immediately held the limp body of his husband to his chest and followed her. Tears obscured his view as he gazed upon his husbands still face. He ran his hands over each of those memorised features - a familiar path they had taken many times. He pushed the bloodied strands of hair away from his face and begged for his husband to come back.
Wen Qing quickly sanitised and sutured the wound, drawing out the arrow and carefully wrapping the boy in gauze. It was all she could do. But instead of improving, Wei Ying still deteriorated. His heart rate slowed even more, his breathing became shallow, his limbs cold. Spiritual energy couldn't combat the issues fast enough.
This shouldn't be happening, he should have improved. Unless... A harsh sobbing cry ripped from deep within her throat. She knew in her heart that it was too late. The poison from the arrowhead had long since entered Wei Ying's bloodstream and began the painful shutdown of his organs.
"NO. No, no, no, no, no! Wei Ying you can't! You can't leave us like this!" She cried, her stoic and harsh facade replaced in the final moments.
Lan Zhan could't process anything. His brain was operating several seconds behind. He tightly held Wei Ying till the last, knowing he would never get a chance to say goodbye.
Wei Ying's lungs shut down, and then his heart, his brain perhaps long gone. There was nothing they could to as Wei Ying slipped away.
The Yiling Laozu had died. The greater cultivational world had won. His husband, his sole company in this life, had gone on without him.
Lan Zhan cried.