Chapter 68: Indecision

Wei Wuxian left the flower donkey at the foot of the mountain, stepped over the broken stone wall, and walked up the path. Before long, he saw a headless stone beast. The statue weighed over a thousand pounds, had guarded the mountain path for years, and was covered in vines and moss. Its head had been hacked off with a heavy axe and thrown not far away, smashed to pieces in a show of force. The cut surface was fresh, revealing the snow-white stone core. A little further on, another statue had been split clean in two from head to toe.

Wei Wuxian guessed immediately: these must be the guardian stone beasts the clans had placed on the Wasteland Cemetery's feng shui pressure points after his death. These stone beasts had the power to suppress yin energy and ward off evil. They required extremely high craftsmanship and were very expensive. Now, they'd probably all been destroyed. What a waste.

Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji walked side by side for a few steps. When Wei Wuxian glanced back without thinking, he saw Wen Clan had already appeared.

He stood beside the stone beast, head bowed and motionless. Wei Wuxian asked, "Wen Clan? What are you looking at?"

Wen Clan pointed at the statue's base.

The stone beast was set on a thick, round tree stump. Around it, three smaller, shorter stumps were scattered, all charred black as if by fire.

Wen Clan dropped to his knees, plunged his fingers deep into the black earth, grabbed a handful of soil, and clenched it in his palm. He whispered, "...Sister."

Wei Wuxian didn't know what to say. He walked over and gave his shoulder a firm pat.

Two of the most agonizing periods of Wei Wuxian's life had been spent in this place. He'd never planned on coming back.

And for Wen Clan, the Wasteland Cemetery was an even more unforgettable place.

A cold wind swept through, rustling the sea of trees like a thousand tiny voices whispering. Wei Wuxian tilted his head, listening intently, then knelt on one knee, leaned down, and murmured something softly to the earth beneath him. Suddenly, a patch of soil bulged slightly.

Like a pale flower blooming from the black earth, a skeletal arm slowly broke through the surface.

The small, limp arm waved weakly. Wei Wuxian reached out and grasped it, leaning down further until his hair slipped over his shoulder, covering half his face.

He brought his lips close to the skeletal hand and whispered softly, then fell silent as if listening. After a moment, he gave a slight nod. The hand curled back into a bud-like shape and retreated into the ground.

Wei Wuxian stood up, brushing the dirt from his clothes. "They've been grabbing people over the last few days, over a hundred of them. They're all still alive, up at the summit. But the people who grabbed them have already left the mountain. I don't know what they're planning. Just be careful."

The three of them continued upward, coming upon some dilapidated shacks standing alongside the path.

Most of the structures were small, simple, even crude—clearly built in haste. Some had been burned down to just a frame; others had collapsed entirely to one side. The best-preserved ones still had half their walls smashed to pieces. After over a decade of wind and rain with no one to care for them, they stood like ragged, lingering ghosts, silently watching the newcomers approach from below.

Since they'd started up the mountain, Wen Clan's steps had been unusually heavy. Now, standing before one of the huts, he couldn't move another step.

This was a hut he'd built with his own hands back then. Before he left, it had been intact. Crude, but a complete shelter from the wind and rain, housing people he knew and cherished.

The saying goes, 'the place remains, but the people are gone.' At least the 'place' is supposed to remain. But in this scene, not even the place was left to stir memories.

Wei Wuxian said, "Don't look."

Wen Clan said, "...I already imagined it would be like this. I just wanted to see if anything was left..."

Before he could finish, a human-shaped figure suddenly wobbled to its feet inside the ruined hut.

The figure staggered out. Its half-rotted face was exposed to the thin daylight. Wei Wuxian clapped his hands once. The walking corpse showed no reaction and continued toward them. Wei Wuxian calmly took two steps back. "It's being controlled by the Yin Tiger Talisman."

Corpse puppets already under his command wouldn't submit to the Yin Tiger Talisman. Likewise, corpse puppets already manipulated by the talisman wouldn't obey his orders. The rule was simple and brutal: first come, first served.

Wen Clan stepped forward, roared, and ripped its head off. Immediately, low growls echoed from all directions. From the black woods, forty or fifty walking corpses slowly emerged. They were men and women, young and old. Most were quite fresh, wearing Funeral Garments—likely the missing corpses from various places recently. Lan Wangji flipped out his ancient zither and plucked a string. The sound rippled outward like a wave, and the corpse circle that had just surrounded them instantly dropped to their knees. Wen Clan lifted an exceptionally tall male corpse with both hands and hurled it several yards away. Its chest was pierced by a sharp branch, and it struggled, stuck on the limb. Wei Wuxian shouted, "Don't get tangled up with them! Head straight for the summit!"

Who knew how many walking corpses Jin Guangyao had been frantically summoning with the Yin Tiger Talisman these past few days? Wave after wave came. The three of them fought their way up, repelling corpses as they went. The closer they got to the Wasteland Cemetery summit, the denser the hordes became. Above the towering black forest, zither notes soared into the sky, and crows scattered in chaos. It took nearly an hour before they finally got a moment's respite.

Wei Wuxian sat down on a destroyed guardian stone beast and let out a breath. He said self-mockingly, "I used to use this thing on other people. Today, it's finally my turn to have it used on me. Now I know how hateful the Yin Tiger Talisman is. If I were them, I'd want to kill the guy who made this damn thing too."

Lan Wangji put away the zither, drew a long sword from his sleeve, and handed it to him. "For defense."

Wei Wuxian took it. It was Whatever. After cutting that melon the other day, he'd tossed the sword aside, and Lan Wangji had picked it up again. He drew the blade, stared at the snow-white edge for a moment, then decisively sheathed it again. With a laugh, he said, "Thanks." He casually fastened it at his waist, showing no intention of using it. Seeing Lan Wangji watching him, Wei Wuxian scratched his head and explained, "Haven't used a sword in too many years. I'm out of practice." Then he sighed. "Alright, the real reason is this body's spiritual power is too low. Even with a top-grade sword, I can't bring out its true power. So, I'll have to trouble Hanguang-jun to protect this delicate man."

Lan Wangji: "..."

The delicate man sat for a while, then finally pushed himself up, leaning on his knees. The three of them walked a bit further until, at the path's end, they saw the black mouth of a cave.

The cave entrance was over five yards high and wide. Even from a distance, a chilling wind assaulted them, and they could almost hear faint murmurs and moans.

The legendary lair of the Yiling Patriarch, where he murdered people, refined corpses, and committed every heaven-defying atrocity—Fumo Cave.

The cave's dome was high and vast. Holding their breath, the three of them crept inside. None made a sound, but the human voices from deep within the cave grew louder and more chaotic.

Wei Wuxian knew the cave's layout like the back of his hand. He walked in front and signaled a halt at a certain spot.

The main cavern was just on the other side of a rock wall. Through holes in the stone, they could see a cave large enough to hold a thousand people. In the center sat over a hundred people, their hands and feet tightly bound with immortal-binding ropes. Looking closer, all of them were extremely young. Judging by their robes and swords, they were either high-ranking disciples or direct descendants of prominent clans.

Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji exchanged a glance. Before they could whisper a discussion, a boy sitting on the ground suddenly said, "If you ask me, you shouldn't have just stabbed him. Why didn't you slit his throat?"

His voice wasn't actually loud, but Fumo Cave was so cavernous that it echoed, making every word perfectly clear without eavesdropping. The moment the boy spoke, Wei Wuxian found him vaguely familiar. It took a moment to remember—wasn't this Jin Chan, the kid who'd fought with Jin Ling the other day?

Looking again, the cold-faced youth beside him was none other than Jin Ling.

Jin Ling didn't even glance at him, keeping his head down in silence. Another boy beside him had a loud stomach rumble. He said, "They've been gone for days. What do they want? If they're going to kill us, just get it over with. I'd rather get bitten to death on a Night Hunt than starve to death here!"

The boy chattered on—it was Lan Jingyi. Jin Chan said, "What else could they want? They're definitely planning to do what they did to the Wen Dogs during the Sun-Striking Campaign—refine us into their corpse puppets. Then use us against our own families, so they can't bring themselves to fight, forcing enemies to kill each other." He gritted his teeth. "That despicable Wei Dog has no humanity!"

Suddenly, Jin Ling said coldly, "Shut up."

Jin Chan was stunned. "You're telling me to shut up? What do you mean?"

Jin Ling said, "What do I mean? Are you deaf or stupid? Don't you understand human speech? Shut up means stop making noise!"

Tied up for so long, Jin Chan was already irritable all over. He snapped, "Who are you to tell me to shut up?!"

Jin Ling said, "What's the point of your useless babbling here? Will the ropes break if you make more noise? It's annoying."

"You!!!"

Another young voice said, "We're trapped here, and who knows when all those walking corpses outside will rush in. And you're still fighting at a time like this?"

This calmest voice belonged to Lan Sizhui. Jin Chan said, "He started it! What, you can curse him out, but I can't? Jin Ling, hey, who do you think you are? You think just because Lianfang-zun is Chief Cultivator, you will be too? I won't shut up, I'll see you—"

With a thud, Jin Ling suddenly headbutted him. Jin Chan cried out in pain and shouted, "Want to fight? Bring it on! I'm pissed off enough already. You motherless brat!"

Hearing that, Jin Ling flew into an even greater rage. Bound and unable to use his hands freely, he used his elbows and knees instead, striking repeatedly until the other boy yelped. But he was alone, while Jin Chan usually had a crowd around him. Several boys, seeing him at a disadvantage, immediately yelled, "I'll help you!" and swarmed in. Lan Sizhui, sitting nearby, was helplessly swept into the brawl. At first, he tried to plead, "Everyone, calm down, calm down!" But after taking a few mistaken elbow strikes, he winced in pain, his face growing darker, until he finally yelled and simply joined the free-for-all.

The three outsiders couldn't bear to watch any longer. Wei Wuxian leaped onto the stone steps in front of Fumo Cave and shouted, "Hey! Look over here!"

His shout echoed deafeningly through Fumo Cave. The boys tangled in the fight looked up. Lan Sizhui saw the familiar figure beside him and cried out joyfully, "Hanguang-jun!"

Lan Jingyi yelled even louder, "Hanguang-juuuuuuun!"

Jin Chan said in terror, "Why are you happy? They... they're together!"

Wei Wuxian strode into Fumo Cave, drew Whatever from its sheath, and tossed it casually behind him. A figure flashed out and caught the sword—it was Wen Clan. The clan disciples let out another round of shrieks: "The Ghost General!"

Wen Clan raised Whatever and slashed down toward Jin Ling. Jin Ling gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, but then felt his body go loose—the immortal-binding ropes had been severed by Whatever's edge. Next, Wen Clan walked around the cave, cutting the ropes. The freed clan disciples didn't know whether to flee or stay. With the Yiling Patriarch, the Ghost General, and the righteous path's traitor Hanguang-jun inside, and countless hungry walking corpses outside, they were trapped. They could only huddle in a corner of the cave, eyes fixed unblinkingly on the expressionless Wen Clan pacing about. Lan Sizhui, however, was beaming. He said, "Mo... Senior Wei. You came to save us, right? You didn't send people to capture us?"

Though it was a question, his face was full of complete trust and delight. Wei Wuxian felt a warmth in his heart. He crouched down, ruffled Lan Sizhui's head, and messed up his hair, which had remained impeccably neat despite days of hardship. "Me? You know how poor I am. Where would I get the money to hire people?"

Lan Sizhui nodded repeatedly. "Mhm. I knew it! I know Senior Wei is really poor!"

"..."

Wei Wuxian said, "Good boy. How many people were on the other side? Any ambushes nearby?"

Lan Jingyi threw off the ropes and rushed to answer, "There were a bunch of them! Their faces were covered in black mist, couldn't see them clearly. They tied us up and dumped us here, then just left, like they wanted us to fend for ourselves. Oh, oh, and there are tons of walking corpses outside! They keep howling!"

Bichen Sword rang out as it left its sheath, cutting through the immortal-binding ropes binding them. Lan Wangji sheathed his sword and said to Lan Sizhui, "Well done."

He meant that Lan Sizhui had done well to stay calm and trust them. Lan Sizhui quickly stood up, straight and proper before Lan Wangji. Before he could even manage a smile, Wei Wuxian said cheerfully, "Yeah, really well done. Sizhui, you even got into a fight."

Lan Sizhui flushed bright red instantly. "Th-that was... a momentary impulse just now..."

Suddenly, Wei Wuxian sensed someone approaching. He looked back to see Jin Ling standing stiffly behind them.

Lan Wangji immediately stepped in front of Wei Wuxian. Lan Sizhui then stepped in front of Lan Wangji, saying cautiously, "Young Master Jin."

Wei Wuxian walked out from behind the two of them. "What are you doing? Stacking yourselves up like a pagoda?"

Jin Ling's expression was strange. His fists clenched and unclenched, as if he wanted to say something but couldn't get it out. His gaze was fixed on Wei Wuxian's abdomen, where he'd stabbed him. Lan Jingyi cried out in alarm, "You, you, you! You're not planning to stab him again, are you?"

Jin Ling's face stiffened. Lan Sizhui hurriedly said, "Jingyi!"

Wei Wuxian hooked an arm around the necks of the two youngsters, one on each side. "Alright, let's all get out of here, quick."

Lan Sizhui said, "Yes!"

The other boys were still huddled in the corner, not daring to move. Lan Jingyi said, "Let's go? You want to stay here?"

One boy said stubbornly, "With all those walking corpses outside, you want us to go out there... and get ourselves killed?"

Wen Clan said, "Young Master, I'll go out and drive them away."

Wei Wuxian nodded. Wen Clan immediately swept out like a gust of wind. Lan Sizhui said, "The immortal-binding ropes are already cut. At worst, we can fight our way out together. If you don't leave and the corpse horde floods in after we're gone, given this cave's layout, wouldn't it be like catching turtles in a jar?"

With that, he grabbed Lan Jingyi, and the two of them, along with several other Lan juniors, led the way out after Wen Clan. The group of boys looked at each other.

A moment later, one said, "Brother Sizhui, wait for me!" and followed, walking out with them.

This boy was the same 'romantic soul' who had burned paper money and shed hot tears for A Qing back in Yi City. Others called him Zizhen—he seemed to be the only son of the Baling Ouyang Clan. Then, a few others followed, all familiar faces from Yi City. The remaining boys hesitated, but seeing Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji watching them—either one of those gazes was enough to make them nervous—they steeled themselves and scurried past. The last one left was Jin Ling.

Just as the large group was dragging their feet near the cave entrance, a figure was suddenly hurled inside, smashing a deep, person-shaped dent into the cave wall.

Grey stone dust rained down. From ahead came the shocked cries of several juniors: "Ghost General!"

Wei Wuxian said, "Wen Clan? What happened?"

Wen Clan said with effort, "...It's nothing."

He toppled out of the dent, stood up, and silently, roughly reattached his broken arm. Wei Wuxian looked closely and saw a young man in purple robes standing before Fumo Cave, Purple Thunder crackling with spiritual light in his hand. Wen Clan had just been whipped into the cave by that lash.

Jiang Cheng.

No wonder Wen Clan hadn't made any move to fight back.

Jin Ling called out, "Uncle!"

Jiang Cheng said coldly, "Jin Ling, come here."

From the black woods behind him, a crowd of cultivators in various-colored robes slowly emerged, gathering more and more until, roughly counted, there were one or two thousand of them—a dark, dense mass surrounding Fumo Cave. These cultivators, including Jiang Cheng, were all covered in blood and looked exhausted. The group of clan youths rushed out of Fumo Cave, crying, "Father!" "Mother!" "Brother!" and threw themselves into the crowd.

Jin Ling looked left and right, still hesitating, unable to make up his mind. Jiang Cheng said sharply, "Jin Ling, what are you dawdling for? Get over here! Do you want to die?"

Lan Qiren stood at the front of the crowd, looking much older, with streaks of grey now at his temples. He said, "Wangji."

Lan Wangji said softly, "Uncle."

But he still didn't move to stand by his side.

Lan Qiren understood all too well—this was Lan Wangji's unshakable, firm answer. He shook his head, his expression one of utter disappointment, and didn't try to persuade him further.

A fairy in fluttering white robes stepped forward, her eyes brimming with tears. "Hanguang-jun, what's happened to you? You... you're not yourself anymore. Before, you were utterly opposed to the Yiling Patriarch, fire and water. What method has Wei Wuxian used to bewitch you, to make you stand against us?"

Lan Wangji paid her no attention. Receiving no answer, the fairy could only say regretfully, "If that's the case, what a waste of a renowned gentleman!"

Wei Wuxian said, "You're here again."

Jiang Cheng said coldly, "Of course we are."

Su She, carrying his Seven-String Ancient Zither on his back, also stood at the front of the crowd. He said leisurely, "If the Yiling Patriarch hadn't returned and immediately made sure the whole world knew, digging up corpses and grabbing people with such fanfare, we probably wouldn't have come to visit your den again so soon."

Wei Wuxian said, "I clearly saved these clan youths. Why aren't you grateful? Instead, you're accusing me?"

Many people snorted with derision; someone outright shouted, "The thief cries 'stop thief'!" Wei Wuxian knew arguing was pointless and wasn't in a hurry. He gave a slight, mocking smile. "Still, the scale of your visit this time seems a bit shabby. Two major figures are missing. May I ask, for such a grand event, why haven't Lianfang-zun and Zewu-jun come?"

Su She sneered. "Hmph. The day before yesterday, Lianfang-zun was assassinated by an unknown assailant at Jinlin Pavilion. He's seriously injured. Zewu-jun is currently doing everything he can to treat him. Why ask when you already know?"

Hearing that Jin Guangyao was 'seriously injured,' Wei Wuxian immediately remembered the heroic pose he'd struck when faking suicide after ambushing Nie Mingjue. He couldn't help it—he let out a snort of laughter. Su She's brow furrowed slightly. "What are you laughing at?"

Wei Wuxian said, "Nothing. I just think Lianfang-zun gets injured a lot."

Just then, a small voice suddenly said, "Father, I think... maybe it really wasn't him. Back in Yi City, he saved us. This time, it seems like he came to save us too..."

Wei Wuxian followed the voice. It was Ouyang Zizhen again. However, his father immediately scolded his son, "Child, don't talk nonsense! Do you know what kind of occasion this is? Do you know who that is?"

Wei Wuxian withdrew his gaze and said calmly, "I understand."

He'd understood from the start. No matter what he said, no one would believe him. What he denied would be forced upon him; what he admitted would be twisted.

Lan Wangji's words had carried weight before, but now that he was tangled up with him, he'd probably become a target too. He'd thought that with Lan Xichen at least present on the clans' side, there might be some room for mediation. Who knew neither Lan Xichen nor Jin Guangyao had shown up.

During the first Wasteland Cemetery Siege, Jin Guangshan led the Lanling Jin Sect, Jiang Cheng led the Yunmeng Jiang Clan. Lan Qiren led the Gusu Lan Sect, Nie Mingjue led the Qinghe Nie Sect. The first two were the main force; the latter two were more or less optional. Now, the Lanling Jin Sect leader hadn't come, only sending men to follow the Lan Clan's command. The Gusu Lan Sect was still directed by Lan Qiren. Nie Huaisang had taken his elder brother's place, shrinking within the crowd, his face still full of 'I don't know anything,' 'I don't want to do anything,' 'I'm just here to make up the numbers.'

Only Jiang Cheng remained—still that Jiang Cheng, full of hostility, his face dark and sinister, staring fixedly at him.

But.

Wei Wuxian tilted his head slightly and saw Lan Wangji standing beside him, without a trace of hesitation or any intention of retreating.

But this time, he wasn't alone anymore.

Under the watchful eyes of thousands of cultivators, a middle-aged man finally couldn't hold back. He leaped out and shouted, "Wei Wuxian! Do you remember me?"

Wei Wuxian answered honestly, "No."

The middle-aged cultivator sneered. "You don't remember, but this leg of mine does!"

He yanked open the hem of his robe, revealing a wooden prosthetic leg. "This leg was crippled by you that night at Evernight Heaven City. I'm showing you so you know that among those besieging you today, I, Spring Palace Diagram, am contributing my share. The wheel of heaven turns; retribution is sure!"

As if inspired by him, another young cultivator stepped forward. He declared loudly, "Wei Wuxian, I won't ask if you remember. My parents both died by your hand. You owe too much blood debt; you certainly don't remember two old folks like them. But I, Fang Mengchen, won't forget! And I won't forgive!"

Immediately, a third person stepped out—a thin, tall middle-aged scholar with piercing eyes, who seemed the very picture of righteous integrity. This time, Wei Wuxian asked first, "Did I cripple you?"

The man shook his head. Wei Wuxian asked again, "Did I kill your parents, or wipe out your family?"

The man shook his head again. Wei Wuxian said, puzzled, "Then may I ask, what are you doing here?"

The man said, "I have no personal grievance with you. I came here to fight to make you understand: those who defy the will of the world, whom everyone has the right to kill—no matter what underhanded methods they use, no matter how many times they crawl out of the grave—we will send them back. For no other reason than for the sake of 'righteousness'!"

Hearing this, the crowd cheered and applauded thunderously: "Well said, Yao Sect Leader!"

Yao Sect Leader retreated with a smile. The others, greatly encouraged, stepped forward one after another, loudly declaring their challenge.

"My son had his throat torn out by your lackey Wen Clan during the Qiongqi Ambush!"

"My senior brother died from a vicious curse of yours, his whole body festering, killed by a gu!"

"For no other reason than to prove that justice still exists in the world, and evil cannot be tolerated!"

"Justice still exists in the world, and evil cannot be tolerated!"

Every face was flushed with boiling fervor. Every word was spoken with righteous conviction. Every person stood tall with moral authority, impassioned, indignant, and filled with heroic spirit.

Not a single one of them doubted that what they were doing now was a glorious feat, a great act of righteousness.

A crusade of 'justice' against 'evil'—one that would be praised for generations, celebrated by thousands!