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Wen Xu is sixteen when his father, whether out of curiosity or some misguided hope that he will be able to acquire more power this way, decides to visit the infamous Burial Mounds.
Wen Xu himself has always steered clear of Yiling and would honestly prefer to continue to do so, but the alternative to tagging along had been helping his brother catch up on his lessons (of which he had yet to master many), which would hopefully help compensate for his shortcomings (of which there were even more).
So, Wen Xu decides that tagging along on his father's more or less secret outing was the lesser evil and joins the entourage. He is not entirely sure what his father hopes to find in Yiling. Perhaps an answer for what is wrong with the cursed place, though the chances for that are low. Or perhaps he wishes to finally test his theories that the cultivation of resentful energy was possible, for which the chances of his success were even lower. In Wen Xu's sensible opinion, that is.
Maybe, foolishly, Wen Ruohan was hoping to clear the unrest around the Burial Mounds, thus elevating both his cultivation and his name.
Whatever it was that his father was after, Wen Xu did not care. Any excuse to get away from his younger brother (who showed exactly zero potential but countless worrying features at the rather tender age of twelve) was a good excuse.
Wen Xu had long accepted that his father's shine meant he would never be able to live up to it, eternally paling in comparison to the bright fire burning within the Wen Sect Leader. It was only logical, then, that he appeared less impressive compared to his peers. Wen Xu had hoped that his little brother would show potential, at least.
But no such luck. Wen Chao was an unmannered, immature, cruel child with an ego far bigger than his level of cultivation and lack of accomplishments allowed. Why father still kept him around, he had no idea.
When Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen went on and on about their little brothers in their own ways, all Wen Xu did was stay quiet. He was the outsider to their friendship, anyway, what use was there in dragging his embarrassing little brother into the equation? There was nothing for him to boast about.
Wen Xu shook his head to himself, clearing his mind from such thoughts. There was no use in thinking about it. He had tagged along to avoid thinking about it.
For how proud cultivators of the Immortal Sects tended to be, Wen Ruohan favored the secrecy of his mission to the uproar that news of his arrival would bring. Their entire entourage had traded in their signature Wen robes for unassuming brown ones. They were, admittedly, ugly, but that was the least of Wen Xu's worries.
When they finally arrived at the infamous Burial Mounds, Wen Xu had to hand it to them: they deserved their infamy.
The Burial Mounds towered above them, the air surrounding them dark and heavy with something. Resent, most likely. Wen Xu felt it pulling at him, heard the shapeless voices and whispers that he was certain would turn to screams should he venture too close to that cursed place.
He looked over at his father, who was looking at the Mounds with an expression Wen Xu couldn't place. He only hoped his father would leave his foolish delusions behind at the sight of this impossible place. Whatever it was that his delusions were about, anyway.
Their entourage started examining the area surrounding the Burial Mounds, prodding here and there. Wen Xu wasn't entirely sure what they were looking for, so he assumed the disciples are just as clueless. Their main objective was to protect Wen Ruohan, anyway.
Wen Xu soon found himself bored with the process and wandered off on his own, skirting along the edges of the Burial Mounds.
The energy coming from them was so strong, it drowned out everything else. He had to focus to feel the presence of his own core, and caught himself mentally drifting off multiple times. If these were the effects this place had around its edges, then he truly did not wish to know what it was like inside.
Wen Xu passed a tree whose bark pattern had a remarkable resemblance with his brother's face, and scowled.
Just yesterday, Wen Chao had wanted to punish a servant over spilling a drop of his morning tea. Father had refused and told Wen Chao to focus on his studies, instead.
Wen Xu had been glad for it. Not only was it nonsensical and childish to throw a tantrum because of something so minor, it was also a waste of their time and resources to even consider punishment for it.
And Wen Xu was no fool, either. Antagonize your allies for too long and even your most devoted followers will abandon you. As the heads of the sect, they had to be strict and authoritative, but there was no place for needless cruelties. If anything, they should stick to their motto, be prime examples of it.
Every kindness should be returned.
They had been losing sight of that, lately. His father's bad temper and unstable qi were one thing, the cruelty his brother carried by nature another.
Wen Xu was not a paragon of kindness, himself, but he did believe in giving people exactly what they deserved, be it good or bad. In the future, he would have to work harder to compensate for his family's shortcomings.
If only his younger brother were of help instead of making the task all the more difficult. Given the chance to trade him for a better sibling, Wen Xu would not hesitate to take it, heartless as it sounded. Wen Chao was heartless, too, so surely it was fine.
Wen Xu sent of blast of spiritual energy at the tree that no longer looked like it had his brother's face on it. The Burial Mounds seemed to be affecting him even without his notice. That was bad. If Wen Xu kept being this distracted, who knew what-
"Behind you!" a voice cut through the silence.
Wen Xu whirled around, drawing his sword in the same motion and throwing it up just in time to stop the fierce corpse that had snuck up on him from taking off his head. The impact left him rattled, his form imperfect because of his distraction.
Something hit the corpse from behind, and it staggered back, howling as it clutched the stump where its left arm had been.
Wen Xu tried to raise his sword to kill it off, but it felt impossibly heavy, refusing to be lifted.
He blinked at the sword in his hands. The last time this had happened had been so long ago that he had forgotten what it felt like. It was almost as if Went Xu's core was too weak for his own sword.
The corpse rushed forward once more, stretching its claws toward Wen Xu's face. He tried to summon a blast of spiritual energy to stop it, but the energy fizzled out before it had the chance to form into a weapon. Wen Xu realized with terrible dread that he could die here.
Before he had the chance to meet his early demise, something seized the fierce corpse.
It froze in place, its remaining arm still raised and mouth wide open, giving Wen Xu a good look at the rotting but sharp teeth inside and a taste of the horrible stench emanating from it.
"No," said the mysterious voice again.
Wen Xu looked up to face his (presumed) savior.
The bafflement he felt at seeing that it was a boy visibly younger than him was not something he could properly articulate.
Said boy was standing with a sword in one hand, raising the other hand in the direction of Wen Xu and the fierce corpse. In the strange, distorted light of the Burial Mounds, it seemed as if his eyes were glowing red.
The corpse remained frozen, suspended mid-motion. With a snapping hand motion, the boy flung it to the side, crashing it against a tree stump with enough force to split it down the middle. Before the corpse had a chance to get up, a red bolt of energy struck it in the chest, leaving behind a gaping, smoking hole.
The corpse did not get up again. Instead, it disintegrated into ashes.
Slowly, Wen Xu returned his gaze to the young cultivator.
He was obviously a cultivator, seeing how he was carrying a sword and using spiritual energy.
But the boy was so young. Barely old enough to have formed his core. Definitely too young to defeat a fierce corpse while Wen Xu had been rendered helpless.
The boy moved, and the optical illusion finally faded from his eyes, making way for the clear grey color that the boy's eyes actually were.
"Are you okay?" the boy inquired as he moved towards Wen Xu.
Slowly, the Wen Sect Heir nodded, sheathing his sword and trying to ignore how much even that small motion cost him.
The boy did not wait for a verbal reply and seized him by his wrist, dragging them both towards the edge of the forest. When had Wen Xu even entered a forest?
"Quick, we need to get out of here. The fog here confuses the mind and makes it hard to focus, and the air is so poisoned that it will temporarily seal your core if you breathe in too much of it."
Wen Xu did not ask why the boy had access to his powers, then. He tried not to think about the fact that what he had observed had not been traditional cultivation as he knew it, either.
When they emerged from the forest and into the daylight, Wen Xu suddenly found it much easier to both breathe and focus. Once they were a sufficient distance away, the strange boy came to a halt and turned to look Wen Xu up and down.
"It didn't hurt you, did it?"
Wen Xu straightened and dusted off his robes before shaking his head. "Not even a scratch," he confirmed, then added, "Thank you for your help."
Embarrassingly, he would have been injured without the boy's intervention, possibly even killed.
The boy chuckled nervously and waved his gratitude off. "Don't mention it! Non-locals stray too far into the Mounds' territory every now and again. Actually, even locals do, even though they really should know better."
He moved his grip to check Went Xu's core. Any other day, the Wen Sect Heir would have something to say about that, but at that moment, he was too stunned to do anything.
The boy focused for a few seconds, then nodded in satisfaction.
"It's already fading. Your core will be back to normal in no time."
Wen Xu acknowledged that with a nod and freed his wrist, then considered the boy. He was wearing simple robes that gave no indication of the sect he belonged to and yet he had obviously been trained in one. Not to mention the sword he carried.
"What sect do you belong to?" he finally asked.
The young boy pouted. "Does it matter?"
Wen Xu raised an eyebrow at him. "Secretive, are we? Where did you get the sword? Surely, not some cultivator's corpse."
The boy gasped in offense. "I wouldn't! This my sword! See?"
He held the scabbard out to Wen Xu, tapping the characters engraved on the wood. His second eyebrow joined his first as Wen Xu read what had to be the sword's name.
"You named your sword 'Whatever'?"
It was a questionable thing to do, considering how much pride cultivators held for their swords. Wen Xu had to admit that it was a little funny, though.
The boy nodded, somehow proud and sheepish at once.
"I had no idea what to name it, so I said I would just name it whatever. Jiang Cheng used to say no one else would be foolish enough to name their sword something like that. Personally, I think it's clever. Unique, that's for sure."
"Jiang Cheng?" Wen Xu caught onto the slip of the boy's tongue. The younger cultivator, in turn, grimaced to himself, realizing his mistake. "The Jiang Sect Heir? You belong to the Jiang?"
It would certainly explain the sword and proficiency in cultivation. It also brought up a whole bunch of new questions.
The boy snorted, half in amusement, half in something that could be called contempt.
"I don't belong to anyone," he replied, "Or anywhere, for that matter. That's what I used to think, though. Or wanted to believe. But Yu-furen never wanted me there, and she made that very clear."
"You defected?" Wen Xu concluded.
The boy opened his mouth to reply, the hesitated and scratched his head. "Not technically."
Wen Xu stared at the boy. This kid was making less and less sense by the minute.
Shifting under his gaze, the boy laughed before launching into his ramblings.
"Well, I never officially defected. I spent about two years in Lotus Pier and formed my golden core there. That's where I got Suibian, too. I was doing well, really! I was good at all the lessons, and I really liked everyone there! I considered Jiang Cheng and shijie as my siblings, even though I was never allowed to call them that. But I was never allowed to be better than Jiang Cheng, even when that really wasn't what I was trying to do! And Yu-furen..."
His gaze turned dark then, the smile slipping off his face. Wen Xu had known him for a very short amount of time, but even to him the unsmiling face looked unusual. He got the feeling this boy smiled often and that it took a lot to wipe that smile off his face.
He startled when he saw the flash of red in the boy's silver eyes. Wen Xu shook his head to himself. Surely, it had been a trick of the light. The boy's red ribbon swaying in the breeze was most likely the culprit.
"Like I said, she never liked me," the boy finally continued, "One day, while she was punishing me again, I asked her what it would take for her to accept me already. I told her I owed the Jiang Sect a lot and that I would do whatever it takes to become Jiang Cheng's right-hand man like Jiang-zongzhu always said I would."
Wen Xu kept his face carefully blank but cringed inwardly. This story was beginning to sound an awful lot like Wen Zhuliu's. Even he thought that the guy was taking his debts a little too seriously.
There had to be more to the story, though, seeing how the boy was not currently being the right-hand man to any Jiang sect heir and instead hanging around Yiling, wearing robes that did not identify him as a Jiang disciple.
The boy started gesticulating as he spoke, waving his hands in the air in agitation.
"Yu-furen laughed at me and asked whether I meant that, to which I answered 'Of course'. I really did. I told her I had sworn to follow the Jiang Sect's motto when I became a disciple and had done my best ever since to live up to it."
Wen Xu racked his brain for the Jiang Sect motto. It took him a second to recall.
Attempt the impossible.
He was suddenly very, very curious where this story was going.
"And then Yu-furen said 'You're a street rat from Yiling, right? If you want to attempt the impossible, why don't you go back to where you came from and try to prove yourself there? The most impossible place one can find is located right there.'"
Wen Xu's mind had to do some serious gymnastics to catch the implications of that statement, and he lived with a father that was well on his way to madness and a younger brother whose mind was generally twisted, so that had to mean something.
"...She told you to go to the Burial Mounds?" he guessed.
"Yes!" The boy exclaimed in a tone of voice that said 'Ridiculous, isn't it?'.
Wen Xu had to agree that it was.
"And that was when you decided that the smart thing to do was to leave the Sect," he concluded.
The boy paused and frowned at him. "What? No. That was when I told her I would do it - enter the Burial Mounds and become the first person to come back out alive."
"You what." Wen Xu asked, baffled beyond the ability to properly formulate the question.
"So then I left Lotus Pier and returned here. I entered the Burial Mounds and..."
The boy tapered off, gaze going distant. Wen Xu could swear that he saw another flash of red in his eyes. He had an inkling of where this was going, but the impossibility of it was preventing him from completing the thought.
"Anyway," the boy said, "I came back out three or four months later and then decided that I was better off without the sect. As it turns out, I am both terrible at keeping promises and not willing to do whatever it takes to become someone's right-hand man."
"You didn't realize when the Sect Leader's wife sent you to your certain death for fun?" Wen Xu deadpanned, torn between marveling at the dedication and bravery, and marveling at the sheer stupidity.
"I owed them," the boy mumbled, "Jiang-zongzhu picked me off the streets, gave me a home and a chance to become a cultivator. I owed it to them to try."
"What you're telling me," Wen Xu summarized slowly, "Is that one of the rulers of the sect that took you in treated you so horribly that you willingly went along with her mad idea of sending a child into the Burial Mounds, which no man alive has ever entered and returned from, and that you actually did it and lived to tell the tale, and only then did you realize that maybe you would be better off without that sect?"
"That about sums it up, yes," the boy confirmed, nodding seriously.
"Alright," Wen Xu said, rubbing the space between his eyebrows, "All of that notwithstanding, what I don't get is how you survived."
It was entirely possible that the boy was lying. Him lying was the more realistic option.
But there was a haunted look in the boy's eyes that he was much too young for. Not to mention the power Wen Xu could feel radiating from him. And the way he had defeated that fierce corpse... that had not been conventional cultivation.
And honestly, the lie was so absurd and obvious that it could not be a lie. No liar worth anything would invent a tale so outlandish.
The boy shifted on his feet, visibly uncomfortable. "I figured something out," he deflected, explaining absolutely nothing.
Wen Xu was smart enough to recognize stubbornness when he saw it. He would not be able to get any information from this boy as long as the younger did not wish to share. His gaze fell to the flute that the boy was carrying, instead.
"What about the flute?"
It had caught his gaze a long time ago, and Wen Xu decided this was the best time to ask about it.
"Oh! My dizi?" The boy unhooked the dizi from where it was hanging around his waist and twirled it around his fingers.
"My father used to play it. You know, he could even do musical cultivation! He did teach me some, but ever since my parents died, I didn't really have the chance to play it and Yu-furen did not like it when I did, either. But! No one could stop me while I was in the Burial Mounds, so I crafted myself one, and it has been my loyal companion ever since."
He stroked over the smooth, dark wood with no little amount of pride. Outwardly, it seemed to be an instrument like any other. But there was something about it...
Wen Xu felt simultaneously drawn to it and wanted to have it out of his sight. As if it was a premonition of havoc.
"I know it sounds ridiculous," the boy startled him out of his trance, "but the Burial Mounds... I think they've always been kinder to me than to everyone else. When I was a child, I would sometimes sleep right at their edges. And I came out of them alive, didn't I?"
He grinned up at Wen Xu, a smile so bright it was infectious. Wen Xu was seriously struggling to reconcile this boy's face with his tales.
"Say, Young Master, what is your name?"
The boy blinked at him, then chuckled. "'Young Master'? Me?" He bowed; posture immaculate. "This one is Wei Ying, courtesy Wuxian."
"You have a courtesy name?" Wen Xu asked, surprised. Parents usually chose one upon birth, but did not tell their child until they were older. Around fifteen, maybe.
Wei Wuxian did not look fifteen.
"I do. My parents gave it to me before they died. They thought there was no reason to withhold it from me." Wei Wuxian frowned. "But gongzi, what is your name? You are also a cultivator, are you not?"
With a start, Wen Xu realized that Wei Wuxian truly had no idea who he was. And how could he? They had never met, and no one knew about this little trip. Besides, Wen Xu was wearing plain, brown robes. Nothing to identify him as a Wen, much less as the sect heir.
He allowed himself a small smile before bowing to Wei Wuxian in return. "This one is Wen Xu."
"Wen Xu?" Wei Wuxian echoed, frowning. He obviously recognized the name and was trying hard to place it. Wen Xu waited patiently for him to figure it out. When he did, Wei Wuxian's eyes went wide.
"Wen Xu!? Eldest son of the Chief Cultivator, Wen Ruohan?"
Wen Xu inclined his head in confirmation.
"But-"
He put a finger to Wei Wuxian's lips, silencing the boy. "I would appreciate it if you could keep my name and presence secret."
Wei Wuxian looked at him for a moment, then nodded. Wen Xu lowered his hand.
"Then, Wen-gongzi, I ask the same thing of you," the boy replied, surprising Wen Xu once again.
"Oh? Is there someone you wish to avoid?"
In response to this, Wei Wuxian avoided his gaze. Wen Xu understood all at once.
"Your sect," he said, "Are the Jiang not looking for you?"
Wei Wuxian shrugged, still not meeting his eyes. "I never saw anyone looking for me, specifically, and I try to avoid any disciples I see." He bit his lip. "If they figured out where I went, they probably think I'm dead."
"And you want it to stay that way," Wen Xu observed.
Wei Wuxian made an indecisive motion with his head. "I just don't want to go back and have to explain." He gave a full-body shiver, unconsciously reaching towards his back.
Wen Xu considered him for a long moment. He had heard of Yu-furen, of course. Even met her occasionally. If what Wei Wuxian said was true and Yu-furen had truly despised him so...
There was a reason people called her the Purple Spider.
"You live on the streets, then?"
Wei Wuxian grinned at that, though the spark never quite reached his eyes.
"I'm very good at it! My dizi and my cultivation help me make some money, and people are willing to trade some fantastic things for talismans."
"Talismans?" Wen Xu asked. He knew the basics, of course, but the art of talismans had never grown on him. In fact, he did not know of any cultivator who used them often.
Wei Wuxian, it seemed, was a different sort of cultivator. His eyes lit up at the inquiry, and he launched into a rant about all the advantages and applications of talismans.
"-some of them require spiritual energy to be activated, of course, but you'd be surprised how big an impact a few tweaks here and there can have! And if they still require activation, then I just do it for them and the people are usually willing to house me for a night or to give me a meal. There are so many things one could do with talismans, though. If we talked about them more and explored some new ideas-"
"I see," Wen Xu interrupted the sales pitch he feared would never end, "You like talismans."
"I do," Wei Wuxian confirmed with a nod, still grinning and now also rocking on his feet. This kid...
He could see that Wei Wuxian was doing well by himself. He was obviously a strong and accomplished cultivator despite his young age and appeared to be healthy, too.
But life on the streets had left its marks on him, nevertheless.
He was thin, almost too much so, and his robes hung just a bit too loosely off his frame. They were also torn and patched back up in some places, and there were smudges of dirt all over Wei Wuxian's skin. If he had any belongings to speak of, then they were nowhere in sight. Besides his sword and his dizi, all the boy had were the clothes on his body.
Every kindness should be rewarded.
Wen Xu tilted his head at the boy. "How old are you, Wei Wuxian?"
"Twelve."
Twelve. The same age as his brother. And yet, the two of them could not have been any more different.
Where Wen Chao was immature, incompetent, and cruel, Wei Wuxian was more autonomous than most adults, accomplished and kind. He had thrown himself in the way of danger for a complete stranger.
There was, undoubtedly, something childish and naive about him. Usually, Wen Xu would find this annoying, if not downright pathetic, but in this instance, he found himself feeling some relief at the fact that Wei Wuxian could still act like the child he was after all the things he had apparently seen.
But oh, the wasted potential of driving such a promising disciple out of one's sect.
Here was Wei Wuxian, twelve years old and already a skilled cultivator. A child that had survived as an orphan on the streets and continued to live that way voluntarily after the people that had offered him a home had driven him out of it and into the arms of an infamously lethal place. Here was a child who, by all accounts, had found a way to control resentful energy.
Because that is what must have happened, Wen Xu realized. There was no other explanation for him surviving the Burial Mounds, no other explanation for the way he had controlled the fierce corpse. No other explanation for the flashes of red he had seen in those young, silver eyes.
His father had been trying to find a way for years. This child had done what the most skilled and ambitious cultivators had failed to achieve for centuries.
Wen Xu knew that Wei Wuxian, with his childish naivety and desire to trust people, had handed him dangerous knowledge. He could pick this child up right here and now and offer him to his father, recounting the stories and voicing his theories about the boy having found a way to control resentful energy.
And no one would even bother to come looking for him because Wei Wuxian was already considered dead.
But Wen Xu had no desire to give his father the final nudge towards madness; had no desire to destroy his dysfunctional family even more. He was satisfied with all the power the Wen already held. What good was any more? Sooner or later, the other sects would rebel against that. They, too, did not like to hand over their share of power.
No, Wen Xu wouldn't do that. He was neither his father nor his brother and while they were alike in many ways, Wen Xu held neither his father's impossibly deep disdain for the other sects nor his brother's cruelty.
Wen Xu was not a kind person, either, but he was someone who recognized and appreciated competence. Brilliance. Potential.
There was no doubt that Wei Wuxian's potential was being wasted on the streets, and Wen Xu was too pragmatic to stand for that. Besides, if Wei Wuxian's presumed knowledge fell in the hands of the other sects...
Twelve years old. The same age as his brother.
Wen Xu believed everyone should get exactly what they deserved, and he was a firm believer that neither did he deserve his brother, nor did Wei Wuxian deserve what had happened to him. He could tell as much even from the short time they had spent together.
Wen Xu had only just dreamed of a more promising younger sibling. Perhaps Wei Wuxian would prove himself to be the perfect pick.
Wei Wuxian was looking at him somewhat nervously and Wen Xu realized he had stayed quiet for too long, deeply lost in thought. He gave the boy a rare smile and received a hesitant but true smile in return.
"Say, Wei Wuxian, would you like to keep being a cultivator? To learn more about cultivation and to grow stronger than you already are? To test out the theories about talismans that you spoke about?"
"Of course, I want to!" Wei Wuxian replied without hesitation.
Excellent.
"Then... Would you like to become a Wen disciple?"
The silence between them stretched on. Wei Wuxian was openly gaping at Wen Xu, various complicated emotions playing out on his face.
He took a hesitant step forward, then stumbled back. "I..." His gaze darted around, never staying in one place for long.
Wen Xu straightened. "I understand that you are hesitant, and I fully understand why."
"You... do?" Wei Wuxian asked, skeptical.
Wen Xu nodded. "You have already been offered this, once. But the promise has never been kept, has it? You've been clothed, fed and given a sword. Given lessons and taught to cultivate. But you have never been given the freedom to test your own boundaries, to challenge yourself and emerge victorious. Instead, you have been punished for your greatness."
Wen Xu was grasping at straws, completing the unfinished picture Wei Wuxian had painted for him. Judging by the flinch the boy gave, he was not wrong. Or not far off, at least.
"You have never been offered a home."
"No," Wei Wuxian whispered miserably, voice barely audible, "I haven't."
Wen Xu inclined his head. "Us of the Qishan Wen are not so foolish. We recognize potential. We support it and cultivate it to help it be fulfilled. We reward brilliance. Most importantly, we believe that every kindness should be returned."
Wei Wuxian looked up at him with skeptical eyes. Life had taught him not to trust offers that were too good to be true, but this was also merely a child. A child that had grown up an orphan and wished for a place to belong. For a place to develop freely and be praised for it rather than punished.
Wen Xu could not promise a home or a family or even kindness, but he could promise all the other things. He squatted down to be eye-level with Wei Wuxian.
"I am offering you a place by the side of the Chief Cultivator's heir. Not as a right-hand man, but as a valued disciple. As an equal."
"You're lying," Wei Wuxian interrupted, pointing out, "How can we be equals when you're heir to the greatest of the Five Sects, and I am an orphan born from a servant and a rogue cultivator?"
And oh, there was so much more to Wei Wuxian's story that he would have to unpack, but that could wait.
Wen Xu chuckled quietly. "No, that is true. I am not talking about titles. I am talking about martial brotherhood, about two cultivators standing eye-to-eye."
Wen Xu would not promise him true brotherhood, not offer a place in his family, not yet. They both knew it would be an empty promise. Besides, what if Wei Wuxian turned out to be another disappointment, after all? No, better to wait and see and decide then. If this went well, Wei Wuxian would have plenty of time to prove himself.
And Wen Xu would have the time he suspected he would need to earn Wei Wuxian's full trust and regard. The one he was being granted now was merely the tip of the iceberg and born from the innocence of a child, he knew.
"You will have the chance to prove yourself and earn your place without anyone standing in your way. Whether you want to excel at cultivation or any of the Six Arts or even all of them; whether you want to work on your musical cultivation or your own inventions; whether you want to make friends or make the Jiang Sect regret every way in which they have wronged you, no one will stand in your way. No one. I will make sure of it."
He considered the young boy in front of him. "And if you grow to perceive Qishan as a home and are able to make peace with all the things you have seen, then all the better."
Wei Wuxian looked at him with those piercing, assessing eyes for a long time. Once or twice, the clear silver was interrupted by flashes of red, over as soon as they had appeared. Wen Xu remained in his squat patiently, waiting out Wei Wuxian's decision.
Finally, Wei Wuxian said, "I am still technically a Jiang disciple. Won't that cause trouble?"
Wen Xu left out a snort of amusement. "Leave that worry to me. No one will bother you about I, I swear."
After another moment of hesitance and consideration, Wei Wuxian nodded sharply. "I am bringing Suibian and Chenqing. And I want to be able to return to Yiling whenever I want."
"That can be organized," Wen Xu agreed, sensing his success.
Wei Wuxian narrowed his eyes at him and drew closer. This time, when his eyes flashed red, they stayed red.
"I have and will run if you decide to toy with me. And if I do, and if I sense any danger of you following me, I will prevent you from doing so. Even if it means abandoning and destroying all the good things you have offered me. Even if means destroying you."
This was ridiculous. A child the age of his younger brother and the height of his ribs was threatening him.
And yet. This was no ordinary child. Looking into those glowing-red eyes, Wen Xu knew with icy certainty that Wei Wuxian would follow through on his threats should it become necessary.
"Understood."
Wei Wuxian kept him fixed with that gaze for another long second before stepping back and grinning wildly, the red fading from his eyes. He bowed to Wen Xu.
"Then, this one would be honored to be offered a place as a disciple in the Clan of Qishan Wen."
Wen Xu rose, smiling. He offered his hand to Wei Wuxian. "Then let's go introduce you to father and bring you to your new home."
Wei Wuxian grasped his hand and they went, walking towards where the Wen contingent was waiting.
"By the way," Wen Xu remembered to ask, "who is Chenqing?"
"Chenqing is my dizi!" Wei Wuxian announced proudly, waving said instrument in his free hand. He grinned up at Wen Xu. "It's a spiritual weapon as much as Suibian, so it also deserves a name, don't you think?"
And oh, Wen Xu would have so much fun with this new, promising little brother.