[pfsb]

[acrookedpath]

The latest idea that struck Wei Wuxian mid-lunch: if he combined one of the theoretical energy talismans with a paper doll, would that allow him to search the grounds for resentful energy without having to blanket the whole inn with talismans?

It seems like a sound idea! It won't replace the planned night hunt with Lan Zhan -- nor would he want it to -- but if he succeeds, it will be a fun experiment.

First, though: combining a paper doll with a simpler talisman. Which brings us to Wei Wuxian at a table underneath the Observation Window, not an inch left uncovered by his notes, scribbling onto a tiny cutout with a ballpoint pen Bar gave him. (What an invention!) He completes the last character with a flourish and waves his hand over the doll; it springs to its "feet," and, grinning, he directs it toward the empty cup perched precariously on a corner of the table.

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[lightamidchaos]

He remembers Dafan Mountain, standing back to back with Wei Ying, countering the deadly blows that lanced at them from the fog, the sense of rightness to how they fought together, in perfect balance, unthinking, without the need for speech.

This feels much the same.

One of the ghosts begins to slink along the edge of the unseen wall, trying to get behind them, seeking some weakness while the other snarls in front of them. Lan Wangji shifts instantly from stillness into fluid motion, spinning back and forth around Wei Ying in an unceasing spiral, his body and Bichen's blade together serving as an additional circle of protection as he delivers one precise strike after another through Wei Ying's spell and into the ghosts' very being.

[acrookedpath]

The ghosts shriek. With each strike of Bichen, Lan Zhan seems to slice away a piece of their resentful energy as if severing a limb, and as soon as it falls, Wei Wuxian is there to scoop it up. Some of the energy he diverts into keeping the barrier in place; the rest he holds close, swirling in a ceaseless cloud near his feet, waiting for the inevitable moment one of the ghosts breaks through their defenses.

The moment comes sooner than he expected.

One of the ghosts dodges Lan Zhan, pries open a crack in the barrier, and darts through. As it snaps its formless jaws inches from Wei Wuxian's face, he opens his eyes to face the boiling black cloud. One corner of his mouth curls upward the slightest centimeter; his gaze is hard, and utterly without fear.

At his feet, the cloud lunges upward to close its own jaws around the ghost's throat.

[lightamidchaos]

It flashes past him through the narrow gap and streaks toward Wei Ying, and as it does Lan Wangji whirls to face it --

-- only to breathe a sigh of relief as it's caught, wailing, in the trap of Wei Ying's power.

The other one seizes what it thinks is a moment of distraction at the fate of its ally to charge at Lan Wangji's seemingly unprotected back. It's the last mistake it will ever make. Bichen slices a clean line through the ghost, dividing it in half and splitting it into dissolute wisps of smoke that try and fail to reassemble.

He lowers the blade to his side, into a waiting defensive position, and slowly moves to stand next to Wei Ying, watching the trapped ghost intently for any sign of a renewed attack.

[acrookedpath]

He doesn't need to keep up the barrier any longer, and he has enough resentful energy in reserve to hold the ghost in place. As it thrashes wildly in his grip, he slowly lowers his flute, eyes fixed on the creature.

For a wild moment, he wants to trap it for good. Keep it as close as he kept the Stygian Tiger Seal, slowly draining it until it dies. No need to rely so heavily on talismans; no need to pick apart all the tangled threads of energy circling the inn in the hope of finding a strand of gold.

But he doesn't have the proper tools at hand, and that, in the end, makes the decision for him.

He cups his empty hand with his fingers spread like claws. The resentful energy under his control flows into his palm, dragging the struggling ghost with it. And with a decisive clutch of his fist, it smashes the resentful spirit to pieces.

The ghost dissolves into black mist with a final cry.

[lightamidchaos]

Nothing else seems to be approaching. The forest around them is quiet, at least for now.

He lowers Bichen the rest of the way and remains still, his eyes on Wei Ying.

"Are there more? Can you tell?"

[acrookedpath]

He's breathing a little harder than before, pale and strained under the moonlight, but Wei Wuxian still smiles, exhilarated by the fight. The resentful energy begins its slow unwinding, slipping free of his body to sink back into the earth.

"No," he says after a moment. "No, that was all I can sense. If there are more, they are staying quiet."

[lightamidchaos]

"Mn."

Wei Ying smiles, and he can feel some indefinable knot of worry within him unravel at the sight.

"Now we know. There is resentful energy, outside the inn's walls."

[acrookedpath]

"Yes."

He starts laughing, bright.

"I knew it must exist somewhere. I knew it! Even if there is so little death, such skilled healers, and such an immense attempt at suppression."

[lightamidchaos]

"You were right."

It does make sense. Otherwise, this little world would be immensely unbalanced.

(Although he's never known anyone to be quite so pleased at finding resentful energy before.

Then again, he's never known anyone else like Wei Ying.)

"What does that mean for you? For your cultivation, your crafty tricks?"

[acrookedpath]

A thoughtful hum. "I will have to see," he says as he stows his flute back in his belt. "It would be difficult to travel this far into the woods every time I wished to use resentful energy. But I wonder if I could lure it closer to the inn despite the suppression field, now that I know it's out here. Or if I could capture another ghost in a spirit-trapping bag."

He wrinkles his nose.

"That would risk the ghost escaping into the inn, though."

[lightamidchaos]

In his mind's eye, he sees again the unnatural silence of the Yiling Supervisory Office, strewn with corpses, and imagines the same scene at the inn.

"Mn. Perhaps not that."

Lan Wangji looks away, out into the forest around them.

"A lure, though--"

[acrookedpath]

He's nodding. "Yes. An array of them, most likely, to counteract the suppression."

Easy enough to prepare a cluster of talismans for such a task. All it would take is a flick of his wrist to distribute them, and he could call for the resentful energy at a moment's notice.

"Another project! I am gathering them like stray cats. You may come back in a week's time and have nowhere to sit, for all my notes and talismans."

[lightamidchaos]

The faintest hint of a smile touches the corners of his mouth.

"I will not mind."

In fact, he very much likes the idea of Wei Ying busy and thriving.

[acrookedpath]

"You say that now," he says, shaking a finger at Lan Zhan. "Then you will trip over a pile of paper as tall as your knees and fall into my table! Ink all over your nice robes. It won't do."

He starts to retrace their steps up the trail.

[lightamidchaos]

"I will not trip."

He paces along beside the other man.

"But if I do, robes wash."

[acrookedpath]

"I suppose there is a lake nearby to wash in..."

Energized by the hunt, the same as one who breathes fresh air after weeks indoors, he keeps up his chatter all the way back to the inn. It was only two ghosts -- not nearly enough for his good cheer to be tinged with exhaustion as it is -- but, he tells himself, it was the first proper night hunt he's done in some time.

(He had almost forgotten how good it feels to hunt alongside Lan Zhan, as they did before --

Before.)

[lightamidchaos]

Wei Ying's cheerful conversation washes over him as they walk, he himself content to listen and make the occasional sound of encouragement.

Three years since the clifftop at Nightless City. Longer still, since that night in the rain at Qiongqi Way.

He'd thought this lost forever.

Lantern light shines through the window of the inn, guiding them in. When they reach it, he opens the door and holds it for the other man to pass through first.

[acrookedpath]

He nods his thanks, with barely a pause in the (admittedly rather one-sided) conversation, and leads the way up the stairs.

It cannot be long until hài hour, can it? He will make sure Lan Zhan is settled comfortably and asleep before he goes back to his notes. Hopefully. Maybe.

He fully expects Lan Zhan to insist he stay in bed, though, and that might account for the slight dimming to his good cheer as he opens the door to his room.

[lightamidchaos]

Wei Ying's mood seems to shift, and Lan Wangji glances at him in concern.

Has he changed his mind? Does he not want --

"Wei Ying. What is wrong?"

[acrookedpath]

He shoots Lan Zhan a quizzical look. "Nothing," he says. "I am not sure how long it is until hài hour, that's all."

It's...sort of the truth. Then again, Wei Wuxian isn't the one bound by the rules of Gusu Lan.

[lightamidchaos]

"About half a shichen," he says.

Living by a strictly regimented schedule gives one an innate sense of time.

He follows the other man into the room and moves to stand to one side, a little awkwardly.

[acrookedpath]

"Good! Good. You have time to prepare properly for sleep then. Do you need anything?"

He sets his flute on the bookshelf that is practically buckling under the weight of all his notes.

[lightamidchaos]

He glances around the room, noting the privacy screen and the door to a separate bathing chamber.

The second bed that Wei Ying had somehow obtained has been placed beside the first, with just enough space for someone to walk between them. Small hooks are worked into the low headboard and footboard, giving him a place to hang personal items.

"No."

He looks back at Wei Ying.

"Thank you."

[acrookedpath]

"All right."

In that case: dibs on the bathroom! Wei Wuxian heads that way to start his own evening routine.

Maybe if he goes through the motions, Lan Zhan will believe he's going to bed at hài hour as well? Or, if nothing else, it will give Lan Zhan a moment's privacy to settle in, should he need it.

[lightamidchaos]

He breathes a little easier as the door closes behind Wei Ying, and crosses the room to the privacy screen.

He takes a fresh set of clothing from his qiankun bag and quickly changes into clean trousers and a clean set of inner robes. After a moment's consideration, he adds the second layer of robes as well, just to be certain that none of the scars will show.

He stows the worn clothing and moves back to the bed, where he neatly lays the rest of his robes over the footboard in preparation for the morning. He hangs the qiankun from one of the little hooks, and carefully removes his hairpiece and hangs it from another.

His fingers hesitate on his forehead ribbon before he removes it as well, hanging it with his hairpiece.

After that, he sits on the edge of the bed and begins to comb out his hair.