Toastdee @toastdee66 - Tumblr Blog

Carried over from some ramblings here:

Imagine, if you will, that these two met and became buddies prior to their respective love confessions. Instead of LZ seeing WY hanging out

Becomes more au-like as it rambles forth. On Proofreading is an ongoing thing.

Turns out it's real. WY's ghosts start whispering to him about this newcomer. He just gets flashes of green. He begins to sense powerful ghost qi close to his village and that's when some of his Wens go missing. Infuriated, he begins systematically grid searching the Mounds. He finds Qi Rong holed up in a disused cave, with three Wens tied up, monologuing about how there's nothing good to eat here and what's the point if none if his new minions can leave the place? He's been holding off on eating any Wens bc he is leery of WY. He can't figure out what he is. Powerful but no core. Not dead bt not exactly brimming w yang. And he has the weirdest minion QR has ever seen ... That Wen Ning kid is downright scary. Not to mention how his own new minions seem way more deferential to the necromancer than they are to QR. A rude way to treat this ancestor, in QR's opinion. Maybe he could think better on a full stomach. He's just making up his mind to pick a Wen for breakfast when he hears a flute.

The flute is talking to him. It's like a siren. It's telling him all sorts of lovely things. It sounds like vengeance. It sounds like hot blood. It sounds like ...

... sweeping? Why is he sweeping? Where did he even get this shitty broom? Where is he? He looks around and realizes he's trapped at the back of a large cavern by a formidable array of talismans. The floor is very clean in his immediate vicinity.

He finally registers that he has an audience. Guzi, some strange kid, and that fucking necromancer.

"What the dog fuck did you do to this ancestor?? Who do you think you are? Scrawny little necromancer reeking of your own blood! What are you doing with my cheap son?? Son?? Did you sell your old man out? I should have eaten you last week!" With horror, QR realizes he's sweeping again. "Shit!" as he throws the broom away like it's a deadly viper.

"Mr. Wei, will Papa be ok?"

"Well that depends on whether he makes good choices. Right A'Yuan? Good choices are important." WY Is sitting comfortably against the wall adjacent, tattered black and red robes pooled around him, holding the godforsaken flute across his bony knees like he doesn't have a care in the world. He's flipping the red tassel up and down with his index finger.

AY nods solemnly and holds Guzi's hand.

"Fuck you! I'll pull out your innards and make a necklace of your ears, you -- "

"Ah, I think you missed a spot over there." WY indicated toward the broom using the flute as a pointer.

"STOP. What do you want from this ancestor? What did I ever do to you??" QR pulled at his hair as he ranted, somehow managing to pace over near the broom again. It really was a shitty broom. Surprising that it could even sweep properly. Looked like two twigs stuck together with spit. See, it can't even catch that little loose bit of sand there... so annoying ...

"SHIT!" QR stared at the hateful tool in his hands. This time he didn't even bother throwing it away. He just focused really hard on staying still.

"I've never seen Papa sweep before..." mused Guzi.

"Did HE put you up to this? That dogfucker Red? He's always trying to find a new way to catch me up! He's just jealous of my good looks! Not everyone can wear green, you know! That's what my old bitch mother used to say. She said a lot of things. She wouldn't even recognize me now, though. Wearing this worn out meat suit, it's clearly an Autumn, and I'm supposed to be a true Spring! Dear old Ma would croak...HA if she weren't already dead as my balls!" Qi Rong carefully swept around the perimeter of his enclosure, not touching the strategically placed talismans. Still, when the broom's bedraggled bristles came within a foot of one, all the hair on his arms stood up. He let out a sob.

"Please... just... what do you want?" he whispered, uncharacteristically subdued.

"Well, now that we can converse like civilized gentlemen, what I want is for you to vacate my Mounds and leave my people alone. I don't know who you are or why you're here, but this place is under my protection." The necromancer tapped the flute on his temple. Qi Rong shivered.

"You don't KNOW me? You claim not to know THE Night Touring Green Lantern Qi Rong, King of Ghouls? Supreme Calamity Devastation level GHOST Qi Rong? You're kidding with this ancestor."

Wei Ying raised his eyebrows. "Devastation, you say? Truly? I had no idea." Truth be told, Wei Ying had only read about such things, and didn't put too much stock in it. Supposedly there was a cursed mountain that routinely spat out extremely powerful ghosts, some sort of crucible situation, but the texts were pretty sparse, and it sounded like a load of hokum to Wei Ying. Something to scare A'Yuan with on a cold evening.

"But you're not even a proper ghost, much less a Devastation level one. Look, you're possessing a mortal body. You're just a squatter."

With each word, Qi Rong's complexion changed colors.

"You...! Why...!! You little weirdo, cock warming meat sock of a necromancer, I --"

"Now now. There are children present." Wei Ying placed the black bamboo flute to his lips. Qi Rong fell to his knees.

"Anything. Anything you want. Just no more flute!"

"Ok then. An esteemed Ghost King like yourself deserves an escort, right? Wen Ning!" QR's blood-shot eyes darted to the shadows. A lanky figure skulked out into the light of the lantern. It waved listlessly at Qi Rong.

"Um, hi."

Qi Rong was speechless for a beat. "You're sending me off with HIM? THAT? That thing?"

"Tsk, rude. Don't take it to heart Wen Ning."

"I'm not," Wen Ning answered. Now Qi Rong was sure this undead guy hadn't changed inflection, but he felt as if Wen Ning and the Yiling Laozu were laughing at him.

"Baba, I think Mr. Green Ghost is tired. He needs a sandwich and a nap. Right Mr. Green Ghost? When I'm having a bad day, a sandwich and nap makes me feel a lot better." AY and Guzi nodded in tandem.

Wei Ying looked at the possessed man carefully. Guzi claimed to be his child, but Wei Ying was dubious about sending a child with that creature. And AY had enjoyed having another child around. Maybe it would behoove Wei Ying to study on this Ghost King business a bit before making a decision on next steps. Besides, another set of undead hands might prove useful around the village for the time being.

"You know what, A'Yuan, I think you're right. I think Mr. Green Ghost is very hungry and very tired. No one behaves their best when they're hungry and tired. Will you take your new friend Guzi to see PoPo and ask her for three sandwiches, please? And a jug of water? I'll just keep Mr. Ghost here company."

Qi Rong had collapsed at some point into a pitiful heap that only twitched every now and then. He didn't even have the energy to curse. He heard the word "sandwich" and it was now all he could think about. He clutched the handle of the hateful broom like a lifeline. "Sandwich," he muttered. How had it come to this?

The necromancer didn't torment him, but only observed him until the kids came back laden with what turned out to NOT be sandwiches at all. They had some kind of thin soup and flat bread. Not even any rice. But Qi Rong had lost all will to complain. He soaked the hard bread in the soup and slurped at it like an old man. He felt like an old man. He felt he'd aged a thousand years in a day, and not in a cool way. That kid had certainly done this to him somehow. Why had he never gotten around to eating him?

Wei Ying watched the ghost-squatter with interest. The body he inhabited was young and fairly strong, but thin, and not well-cared for. He wore his hair in a strange way that WY had never seen before, a kind of half-up knotted twist that seemed both foreign and old fashioned. But other than that, there wasn't much of note about him. Wei Ying could see the family resemblance to Guzi, but was puzzled about how this arrangement had some to be. Had he sired the child before or after being possessed by the ghost? The idea of that ghost lying with someone made Wei Ying shudder. Hopefully before, then. He had a feeling there was a big story behind all of this. The mystery of it all nagged heavily at him. And he wanted to find out more about the nature of this supposed Devastation.

The two boys ate their lunch and prattled quietly to each other. Qi Rong slurped up the last of his turnip soup and wiped out the bowl with the last scrap of flat bread.

"Gongzi."

Qi Rong spasmed in surprise. He'd forgotten about the dead man, who had stood still and silent as a stone in the shadows the whole time, like an unlit lamp.

"Yeah, you can go, Wen Ning. Sorry to keep you. I'll let you know if I need anything. Go, go. Say hi to your sister."

The food had calmed Qi Rong, who now only muttered under his breath as he picked the gooey bread out from his back teeth with a finger. WY grimaced. At least he wasn't cursing a blue streak anymore. WY was pretty sure he was going to hear A'Yuan call someone "dog fucker" in the next few days. How would he explain that to PoPo and the good doctor? Wei Ying was also grimacing for another reason. He knew he didn't have the resources here to learn anything new about ghosts. He also knew who did. But he couldn't leave them alone with this creature he was so ignorant about. He would have to send Wen Ning out. Meanwhile, A'Yuan had a friend, and he could try to pick the kid's brain about his "Papa" a bit more, once the kids woke up from the spontaneous nap they were taking on the pallet of Wei Ying's cloak.

The ghost was staring sleepily into the middle distance as Wei Ying inspected his talismans and made a couple of small adjustments. He seemed to be in a sort of stupor. Interesting. Was it a side effect of the flute? This was a new set of circumstances for Chenqing, after all. And in spite of his demeanor, influencing the ghost hadn't been particularly easy on Wei Ying. His own lids felt heavy, but a nap could wait. He stood and rifled through his piles of papers for a blank piece and set about preparing to write a note. Guzi snored softly on the floor, one arm thrown over A'Yuan's face as the two slumbered in that boneless way that kids do. Qi Rong's muttering, too, had quieted, and the ghost looked temporarily inanimate.

"Dear Lan Zhan, Esteemed Hanguang jun Lan Wangji Greetings from Hell Lan Zhan, it's been awhile..."

****

Hua Cheng stood at the trailhead, squinting up at the hills through the gloomy fog that enshrouded the seemingly endless legions of dead trees. Nothing moved. A raven croaked somewhere in the distance, muffled by the hanging moisture in the air. This was where his spies had alerted him that Qi Rong had holed up. This...pit. Carnal house. Terrible place. It had been many decades since Hua Cheng had last checked in there. The site of an ancient battle, the dirt was cursed and thick with resentment. Hua Cheng new of it only because he took note of ghostly landmarks. He knew that a certain level of ghost could get sucked in, here, and was unlikely to leave of its own accord once ensnared. The allure of easy resentment, the ambiance, whatever it was, attracted them like flies to a carcass. But something had changed. Hua Cheng could feel the wards like steel spiderwebs pressing against his skin. Strong. Unusual. Some talented individual had set up a semi-permeable mesh around the place that seemed designed to keep ghosts from wandering in or out. The ward registered on Hua Cheng, but only because he was testing it on purpose. As a Supreme, he could easily mimic the qi signature required to gain entry or exit here, even against such clever wards as these. But why were they there and who had placed them? They made sensing Qi Rong more difficult. Not impossible, but Hua Cheng had to concentrate a bit to feel him. He was definitely in there. Hua Cheng wouldn't have bothered, but the green bastard had stolen something from Ghost City and Hua Cheng intended to take it back personally, with as much extra flesh as felt like decent recompense for the trouble. He sighed. If only Dianxia hadn't asked him to go easy on Qi Rong...

The Green Ghost was a pest. He should have long since dispersed him, but then He Xuan had suggested it might be better to have him around as a mostly-harmless distraction for mortals, while he and Hua Cheng attended to their affairs. He wasn't Supreme, and Hua Cheng could easily have been done with him once and for all. But it was true, his antics at the edges of the mortal world were upsetting enough that it took all the attention from wandering cultivators and bored gods and gave the two Supremes rooms to breathe. But it appeared the moron had gotten himself in a real pickle this time. No doubt he had pushed past the wards, foolishly thinking he was too powerful to be trapped on the other side with all the rest of the ghosts and haints that had been sequestered there by the mysterious setter of the wards. Well, Hua Cheng had time. He would just hide out and watch. He had grown more and more curious about the mind behind those wards the longer he had tasted them on the back of his tongue. Truly, very unique indeed. There was a murky quality to them, and something vaguely familiar to Hua Cheng's spiritual palate that he couldn't quite place. It was like trying to figure out what air smelled like, behind all the other odors it carried. The resentment here was so thick, so stagnant, that it felt as if his mind were wading through thick mud. Strong, fertile, but ultimately unmoving mud. He no longer had any need for or particular attraction to resentment. It made him up entirely, and he had in turn molded it into a tool that obeyed its master completely, allowing him unparalleled ghostly power. Again, the way air -- so common -- could be honed to a razor point so sharp it could cut diamonds. Yes, Hua Cheng would stay and wait, and watch.

****

Xie Lian was fishing. He lay languidly on a broad rock with one hand trailing in the cold water, seemingly asleep. His bamboo hat covered his face from the sun. But he was quite awake, and was waiting for the telltale slick pass of a fish's back against his fingertips. Then he would quickly snatch the fish up. He wasn't fishing for himself, but for the wedding of a village girl near Puqi Shrine. He wanted to give a good gift of fish for the wedding feast. He knew this particular stream for having good, fat trout, their speckled rosy sides flashing in the dappled sunlight as they darted after insects being dragged along by the current. There would be fifty guests at the wedding, so he planned to catch fifty fish, plus an especially nice large one for the bride and groom. His basket trailed in the icy water, already partly full. By his count, he only needed fifteen more...

Surprisingly, Xie Lian managed to catch all his fish and make it to the wedding on time, and got the opportunity to bless the bride and groom and gift them with a huge trout to bring good luck and abundance to the marriage, all without incident. The villagers were very happy with the fish feast. Xie Lian was humming happily to himself as he strolled back up to Puqi Shrine, his belly full of trout and perhaps a few too many wedding sweets. As he crested the small hill, he heard an "Ahem."

Aaah. Well.

He smiled brightly at Nan Feng. Fu Yao stood to the side some distance away, pretending to examine a rather nice little decorative maple that Xie Lian had been tending to.

"To what does this one owe the honor?" he asked gently.

"Ah, the Emperor would like to...request...your assistance on a small mission, um, information gathering." Nan Feng looked uncomfortable. Fu Yao looked everywhere but at Xie Lian.

"You smell like fish," blurted Fu Yao, apparently to the decorative maple.

"Oh, ah ha, wedding. I was just returning from the feast, as a matter of fact, and haven't had time to freshen up. Jun Wu, you say? Wants me for this mission?"

"Yes, that's right. Information gathering. Nothing too involved."

"Well, come in, and I'll make tea while you fill me in on the details."

As they walked, Nan Feng explained.

"There's some kind of disturbance down by Yiling. Jun Wu would like you to go check it out and report back to him."

"With our help!" Fu Yao interjected.

"Right." Nan Fang side-eyed his companion. "Fu Yao, you really didn't have to come."

"What do you mean? Of course I had to."

Xie Lian watched all of this with amusement. Feng Xin and Mu Qing must know he wasn't fooled by these disguises, but they seemed particularly attached to them. Who was he to interfere with their fun? He went to his tiny personal room in the back of the shrine to wash his face and hands, and changed into another of his old white robes. This one smelled very faintly of pickles, and he recalled the Pickling Incident from a couple of weeks ago. He lamented. Would he never get the pickle smell out? Better than fish, he supposed. At least the robe was clean. Extremely clean, other than the smell, after five washings in various concoctions recommended by various villagers.

Still smells? the grandma with the sparkling eyes asked with sympathy. Those must have been some serious pickles.

You have no idea, Xie Lian had laughed.

Xie Lian returned to the main room, and Fu Yao immediately wrinkled his nose.

"Don't say it." Xie Lian cut him off with a blush.

"Don't say what?" Fu Yao asked innocently.

He served them tea. They took their cups nervously. Fu Yao, unsurprisingly, sniffed his. Nan Fang looked stoic as he took a tiny sip. When nothing happened, he let out a whoosh of breath.

"I can make tea," Xie Lian said simply.

"That's true," Fu Yao added. "Anything with fewer than three ingredients is safe. I forgot." He sipped his tea comfortably.

"Does water count as an ingredient?" Nan Fang asked dubiously.

"This is Xie Lian we're talking about," Fu Yao whispered into the middle distance.

Nan Fang finished his cup and set it down decisively. "So, we should make our way down to Yiling as soon as possible. Preferably now."

For a few short seconds, Xie Lian felt sad about the glorious nap he was going to miss. But duty was duty, and when duty called, Xie Lian, somewhat newly re-ascended god of something or other, answered.

To be fair, Xie Lian had warned them against using the distance shortening array. He sighed as he shook the dust off his hems and continued trudging along the hot road. At least he'd kept his hat this time. What a bleak place. Even in the hot midday sun, it had a surly look about it. Up to the right, the land rose slowly and seemed to swallow the light as it did so, the trees darkening and twisting together, a heavy mist coalescing among the diseased looking branches. Creaking announced the arrival of a drover on an ox cart, his face swathed in damp cloth to keep off the heat. The man didn't appear to notice Xie Lian at all, and the tired looking ox trudged slowly onward in the opposite direction.

"Sir! Ox driver! Excuse me!" Xie Lian called out.

Reluctantly, the man slowed his cart. "Yeah-ah??"

"Am I close to Yiling by any chance?"

"Yeah-ah, keep south another two miles," the man drawled, and shook his reins, moving off again.

"Oh, good, thank you!" Xie Lian was relieved, but worried about his two companions. They seemed very sure the array would function perfectly. More than likely, it had for them, and they had arrived in the middle of Yiling Town, sans Xie Lian. They ought to know better by now, certainly, he thought to himself.

He continued, wishing sorely for a flask of water. He could probably pop into the edge of the woods and find a spring, but the woods didn't seem very inviting. Just then, a burst of crows exploded from the dark treetops of those selfsame woods. Xie Lian squinted. He had a vague sense of foreboding. Nonsense. He shook himself. The atmosphere was oppressive, certainly, but there was no need to imagine things to be worse than they were. He looked around behind him, half hoping to see the ox driver still in the distance, but he was gone. Slowly, he turned back to the south. And froze.

There in the middle of the road about fifty yards ahead of him was a dark figure. It wavered slighly in the afternoon haze like a mirage. It was a man, tall but with a vaguely hunched posture that made him seems smaller. His robes were dark and plain. He wore a conical hat of straw to shade his face from the unrelenting sun, and he appeared to be walking slowly north toward Xie Lian. Xie Lian had no particular reason to relate the ominous atmosphere, the crows, and this traveler, but his hindbrain did it for him anyway. He tensed slightly. A cold sensation crept up his spine even as the sweat droplets rolled down into his collar. Just continue on as if all is well, he told himself. No need to engage with this strange fellow. Just keep walking, one foot in front of the other, we don't want any trouble, we just --

"Hello?" a soft, deep voice called out. Or rather, mumbled loudly. Xie Lian froze. The stranger also froze.

They stood about ten yards apart now, close enough for Xie Lian to see the deathly pallor of the man's bare hands and neck below the rim of that hat. Was he ill? Was he... even alive? Xie Lian suddenly shuddered, full-body. There was something very, very wrong with this man, if he was indeed a human being. The thin figure stood very awkwardly, as if he'd frozen just in the seconds before turning and running for his life. He wrung his pasty hands.

"Um, ahem, yes? Hello... sir? Do you need assistance?" Xie Lian tried to sound as pleasant and non-threatening as possible. The figure seemed to stand up straight for just a moment, but quickly shrunk back into his customary slouch, as though embarrassed.

"No! Nope! Um, thank you very much, but no. Thank you." The deep, soft mumble reached Xie Lian's ears just fine, and he was suddenly struck with the deep weirdness of the entire situation. Brilliant midday sun. Parched and dusty red dirt of the road. Pale, almost colorless cloudless sky, but the gloomy forest rising up along one side like a bank of storm clouds, holding mist like a thick blanket of spiderwebs across the tree tops. Then this strange, dark man. But he wasn't really dark, was he? He was rather pale, actually, and something about him said "youth" to Xie Lian's eye. His clothing had probably once been dark, but was now all made up of shades of faded soot and gray, and only seemed dark in contrast to the deep red of the road they both stood upon. Suddenly it all seemed very funny to Xie Lian. In fact, he chuckled aloud.

The stranger jumped at the sound. A slow hand rose to the rim of his straw hat, and pushed it back just enough for Xie Lian to see the man's face. His chuckling slowed, and he cleared his throat.

The young man before him was certainly dead. There was no doubt whatsoever. But here he was. And he wasn't a ghost, either. He was solid and real as Xie Lian himself. His face was long and colorless, and his eyes were like deep black pits, great and sad, and reflected nothing of the brilliant daylight surrounding them both.

"Oh," sighed Xie Lian. "Oh, you poor dear."

****

Wei Ying crouched next to his ailing lotus pond. The worst heat of the day was passing. Even here under the constant fog of the Mounds, the heat could get oppressive. The place was always quiet, except for the susurration of the languid air through the half-dead leaves of the half-dead trees, and the cicadas. Or at least, Wei Ying assumed it was cicadas. He had never actually seen one on the Mounds, but in the summer, he could hear them. Or something like them, anyway, droning on and on. It lent a weird hypnotic feeling to the already bizarre atmosphere. Maybe he was just hearing cicadas from some area distant from the Burial Mounds, carrying strangely on the twisted landscape. They sure sounded close though. What sunlight managed to peep through the mist these days, ever more frequent since Wei Ying had reined in the rampant resentment and particularly foul presences in the hills, was tinted a strange greenish yellow, like a bruise, or like the light before a particularly virulent and sudden storm. But it was better than nothing. He looked at his weak little lotus plants. Unbelievably, they had sprouted. He'd been sure they were dead at the end of the season last summer. Maybe the sickly sunlight was working its humble magic. The leaves were small, still no broader than Wei Ying's palm, and he doubted they would ever bloom. Not enough sun for that. But the little disks of weak green still made him smile every time he saw them.

He had left Qi Rong muttering and starting up a new round of cursing back in the Demon Subduing Cave. The "sandwich and nap" seemed to have worked to a degree, in that he wasn't weeping or threatening to eat anyone's entrails or anything. He just had an extremely foul mouth, and if the things he said weren't half-believable, it would have made Wei Ying laugh heartily. The knowledge that this ghost had very likely actually eaten people was not a comforting one. As silly as he seemed, he was dangerous. How he had managed to keep that poor child Guzi alive, or why, was a mystery.

Hopefully Wen Ning would have no trouble reaching Lan Zahn and passing on his message of request. Wen Ning didn't require rest, and could jog on for hours on end without stopping to eat, drink, or piss. He could be at Gusu far quicker than anyone that wasn't riding a sword. He ought to have been well out of the area by now, headed north along Single Plank Road. That was a name only Wei Ying used for the strip of red dirt that ran up from Yiling past the Mounds to points north. He wasn't sure what the real name was, actually. Probably something bloody. Most of the landmarks around here had unfortunately nostalgic names. Dead Man's Leap. Hammersplit Creek. Six Blood Alley. The exception that proved the rule was Morning Glory Crest, but Wei Ying was almost positive that "morning glory" was a euphemism for something absolutely horrible. This was Yiling after all. It was obviously so horrendous it had to be named something benign in self defense. All Wei Ying knew was that if one were so inclined, one could climb up there and see most of Single Plank Road between the Mounds and the next unnamed small town ten miles further north, meandering in and out of the slowly flattening hills like a rivulet of gore. He smiled fondly to himself.

Well, that's that, then. No stopping the messenger now. It was out of Wei Ying's hands. Even if he completely changed his mind, it would be too late to recall Wen Ning (technically it was not), and there was nothing Wei Ying could do to stop his inevitable progress toward Gusu (there was, actually). Good.

Just then he heard a raucous cacophony from the trees and saw a number of crows light out into the sky like black fireworks. Hmm. That was quite the uproar for the creatures around the Mounds, where most things stayed as quiet and out of sight as possible. Take the cicadas for instance. Wei Ying knew there were animals about, he had seen the spoor. Foxes. Weasels. A bobcat that was missing a toe on its right forepaw, somehow. But he had never seen any of these creatures in the flesh. Invisibility meant staying alive to leave more spoor. It made sense. Even the crows were uncharacteristically quiet here, so hearing them let loose like that was actually pretty startling. He stood up, brushing the dirt from his knees and hands, and looked around. Summoning a thread of the inky black chill that ran through his veins, he reached out with a whistle... report.

Sssss....sssshhh...... st-st-st-sssssssssss...... Laotzssssuuuu.... watched like a moussssse... sduh-sduh-studhddddtsssssssss ssh ssh. SSH. HUSH. HUSH. QUIET.

Wei Ying winced and pulled back a bit. They were restless. More restless now than when that green ghost showed up. Something had definitely set them off. It wouldn't be the first time. They had gotten in a tizzy once before a few months prior, flashing images of white white white white at him until he was unable to think, unable to make any sense at all of what he was sensing. He figured it had to be something powerful passing by. Whatever it was, it hadn't come too near the Mounds, not near enough to touch the wards. He'd gone around, strengthening the wards and adding some new things here and there, until he was depleted from blood loss and had to lie down for a couple of days. Wen Qing had yelled at him the whole time he was recuperating. But his instincts were usually pretty good, and he wasn't in the mood for surprises. Nothing had come of it, in the end.

He tried to slowly tune back in, prepared for some backlash this time.

Flashes. Pulses. Red pillows? What? Black. More red. Red satin bedding, sliding and slipping endlessly. It made Wei Ying rather uncomfortable, like witnessing something intimate. He shook his head. Make some sense, he pushed.

Purrrrrrrrrrrr prrrretty bird, prrrretty red bird with a big big big and shiny talon.... talon... t t t alon. Deadly deadly deadly, little crow. Deadly deadly deadly deadly deadly --

Ok, ok, I get it. There was someone or something near, something associated with the color red, that was dangerous, and not only that, but at least a few of his ghosts were quite attracted to this being. Great. Fantastic. Thankfully they were far more terrified than they were attracted. He didn't dare to imagine what the "shiny talon" was that was so "big big big." He really hoped it was a sword. He really did.

Great timing. Clearly fate was lining him up to get involved in some new disaster, as if he didn't have enough trouble as it was. First this green ghoul squatter ghost and tagalong child, now this. Was it an inauspicious time, astrologically? Was something in retrograde? He really wanted a drink. He let his feet carry him toward the makeshift tavern/restaurant/mess hall where the hooch was brewed. He had some fruit wine that should be just about ready. His head was beginning to throb, as it often did after receiving reports from the spirits of this place. They generally looked upon him, if not kindly, at least as one of them, and a few probably genuinely liked him or appreciated his efforts to protect his own. He was sure there were Wens among them. This place had been the Wen dumping ground for decades. Anyone they wanted to see disappear, disappeared into the Mounds. They went in alive or dead and never came out either alive or dead. Mostly the hapless victims dissolved into the soil and trees, not having enough resentment to fuel a full ghostly manifestation, but certainly not resting easily.

Once a place had been steeped in resentment, it became a sort of sinkhole toward which all creatures fuelled by resentment would funnel. Like marbles rolling on an uneven surface, the unhappy dead rolled toward the lowest point, and as far as Wei Ying knew, that lowest point for a thousand miles in any direction was the Burial Mounds. He had set up his special filtering wards specifically to help the wandering dead who weren't already here from wandering in and getting stuck. It also prevented a couple of nasties from getting out and causing problems around Yiling. Predatory ghosts had taken up residence at some point prior to Wei Ying's gentrification, feeding off smaller ghosts and generally making a menace of themselves. He had them bound below the Demon Subduing Cave.

People thought the name was just a joke. Ask him if he was joking at three in the morning when That Bastard was restless. And the nights of the dark moon when the Three Ladies would wake up. Sometimes both at the same time. And Wen Qing wondered why he had insomnia. On those nights, it was much easier to distract himself inventing talismans or coming up with new additions to the wards than to lie in the dark and listen to those...creatures...whispering at him. With a lot of effort, he had managed to quiet them for the most part. In some ways, it only made their noisy nights seem louder.

He didn't know where any of them had come from, or what they wanted initially. Some ghosts simply got a taste for resentment, like liquor, and it became their reason for existing. To devour it and to accumulate it with no particular goal in mind. He labeled such beasts "predatory ghosts." He was well on his way to creating a taxonomy of the Unhappy Dead. He figured there must be something driving them, some natural force. Death and all it's phenomenon was natural, after all, and in nature, everything had some reason for being and acting the way it did, if a person thought about it carefully enough. So what was the ultimate reason for a ghost to feel driven to accumulate power, if not to complete its unfinished business or vent its resentment in some fashion or another?

This brought his mind back to the questions he had about Qi Rong and what it meant to be a Devastation level ghost. The idea of levels of ghosts was pretty old fashioned. Cultivators these days tended to not get too fiddly about categorizing them anymore. There were just the levels of difficulty in moving them on or dispersing them. In fact, by Wei Ying's way of thinking, it was a hugely neglected science. The way the cultivation world ignored the finer points of ghostly existence seemed almost superstitious, as if ignoring these things would make them cease to exist. Clearly their ancestors had thought about this stuff before. He could still see the handwriting of the ancient scroll he'd gotten to see in the Gusu library, the word "devastation" written carefully in a precise calligraphy that screamed sobriety and sincerity. Of course, the scroll was incomplete, much of it having crumbled away before the Lans could preserve what remained. It had been found in an old temple uncovered during a civic project outside the Old Capitol. Oh, Wei Ying would have given his right eye to have been there. He actually proposed a new field of study, searching out and digging up old places, cataloging what was found, but the teachers at Gusu had rolled their eyes and harrumphed and ignored him. Superstitious. Fearful.

Just then, a very strange thing happened. Wei Ying sat down. Something had rippled across the Burial Mounds like a cold current lurking in the depths of the warm waters at Yunmeng. All the hairs on his body had stood, and he had lost sensation in his legs. Just for a moment. Just long enough to put him on his rear end on the cockeyed bench outside the mess hall. He stared at the backs of his arms, watching the hairs slowly lie back down. Then the cold sweat on his brow.

From across the village, he heard Qi Rong screeching. "What in the motherless dog's name was that? Hey! Hey! You can't leave me in here to die! I can't defend myself in here! If some shit is going down, I need to be able to move around! This ancestor is useless in tight spaces! Hey! Bastards and sons of bitches and jackals for uncles! Where's Guzi?? HEY!"

Wei Ying sprinted for the Demon Subduing Cave.

mdzs-fics

I so rarely find MDZS fiction outside of AO3. This caught my eye today, so I'm sharing it with others who might be interested. Enjoy.

Trending Blogs

Last Seen Blogs

Toastdee