Azaneti



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    Nie Mingjue took a deep breath, held it for a few heartbeats, and then exhaled. Then he summoned his war council and told them that Wen Ruohan was starting a war.

    “He’s not ready yet,” one of his sect elders objected. “It may just be a ruse to get our guard up –”

    “It is not,” Nie Mingjue said firmly. "It is happening."

    They all looked at the piece of paper laying innocently on his desk.

    The list of names.

    Of targets.

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    21 Oct 2021

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    Notes from a reconciliation.

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    20 Oct 2021

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    “Okay,” Jingyi says, as Sizhui puzzles this out aloud. “Okay! So the demon has been turning its victims into children.”

    “I think so,” Sizhui says.

    “To make them easier prey,” Jingyi says.

    “Yes,” Sizhui says.

    “So—” Jingyi’s voice cracks here, “this kid is Senior Wei.”

    Wei Wuxian, still tangled in his own massive robes, blinks politely at them.

    (Or: Wei Wuxian is cursed on a night-hunt, and the junior quartet rapidly finds themselves in over their heads.)

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    20 Oct 2021

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    “I should’ve kept a journal,” Wei Wuxian mused, unashamedly stalling. “Documented my descent into degeneracy, and all that. I could’ve left it hidden under a rock, or something, until some lucky fellow found it. It would’ve caused so much of a stir, maybe it would’ve ended up in the forbidden Lan library, eh, Lan Zhan?” When Lan Wangji didn’t respond, Wei Wuxian rolled over onto his stomach and added, “Or maybe...underneath the second young master’s floorboards?”

    Lan Wangji gave him a Look. So, under the floorboards with the contraband alcohol, definitely.

     

     

    Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji are asked to investigate a demonic cultivator. They end up finding his journal.

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    20 Oct 2021

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    “You’ve got a fever,” Wei Wuxian says soothingly. “You just keep still as well as you can. We’ll have you fixed up soon.”

    Lan Sizhui recognizes his tone—this is the voice that Wei Wuxian uses on hurt people and young children, a very calm and no-nonsense voice that has none of the mischief and cheer of the way he sounds the rest of the time. Lan Sizhui looks up and meets his eyes, and they are dark, stormy gray, muddled and concerned.

    “I’m all right,” he croaks.

    “Hush,” Wei Wuxian says, in a low croon, like someone quieting a baby. Then he blinks, and looks away, awkward. “I mean—you shouldn’t speak. You’re tired. Rest if you need to.”

    lan sizhui gets sick on a night hunt. wei wuxian comforts him. they both have a lot of feelings about it.

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    20 Oct 2021