on the red road [FIC]

[notturnito]

Title: on the red road
Fandom: For February's Rain | For December's Light

Rating: T

Pairing(s): n/a

Warnings: Implied/referenced character death, aftermath of violence, character study, introspection, chinese webnovel inspired, AU: Role Reversal.

Notes: Written for FebruarysRiver. thank you gege for letting me play with role reversal!wan yu <3 

 

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In the aftermath of killing his shifu, Xue Mu goes to the Frozen Dragon Sect's ancestral hall.

 

The ancestral hall flickers with hundreds of candles, casting webbed shadows on the memorial tablets of the previous leaders, the guardian deities. Despite the warm, orange glow, the empty hall seems dismal, the gazes of the guardian deities of their Frozen Dragon Sect heavy and condemning as they gaze down on one lone Xue Mu.

It’s what made him pause - a split second away from his feet entering the hall threshold.

Then he decides that he doesn’t care, and trudges on nonetheless.

The Black Dragon and Lady Winter can disdain him all they like; Xue Mu’s true god is the Frozen Dragon’s Sect sect founder, after all. Right. That’s right. Since he’s already here, he should pay proper respects to the sect founder. 

Xue Mu glances to the side to find the incense sticks, where do they put those again, hm, and something warm trickles down the side of his neck. Hm? Xue Mu’s hand, after he reaches up and touches his neck, comes away red.

He blankly stares at the blood.

He is distracted by another realization when his palm brushes against the hilt of Heart Mirror by his waist. Oh, right. He's not supposed to bring weapons to the ancestral hall. Xue Mu's broken a rule. And now, since he’s covered all over with blood, he can’t take the joss sticks and pay respects to the sect founder; he can't possibly dirty the altar like that. Yet another broken rule.

Xue Mu’s annoying shifu will give him an earful, perhaps even make him kneel here for a sichen or two for overlooking such basic manners. It’s good Xue Mu’s in the hall first, then— steal a march on his shifu before he can do anything. 

How forgetful. Xue Mu should have talked about him in "would have"s and "could have"s. He’s just killed Xue Chengyong, after all.

Magistricide. That's another broken rule.

Is it more offensive that I’m covered by my own blood or by shifu’s blood, Xue Mu idly wonders, before he decides that it’s offensive all the same, and just plops down on the floor a body length away from the altar. Ignoring the proper form, he tucks in a knee to his chest. He’s broken so many rules already, what’s another one? Now that Xue Chengyong is dead, only Ru Peng has the guts to mind his manners, but he will do it in that gentle way Xue Mu does not mind abiding. Ru-gege is not here, though; he’s somewhere outside with Ye Zisu, doing… clean up, Xue Mu supposes, on his shifu’s most loyal supporters. No one can really stop Xue Mu’s misbehavior anymore, as of now.

Unless, sect founder disapproves. Heh. Humoring himself, Xue Mu lifts up his head to gaze at the timeless portrait, its place familiar below the twin statues.

… There is no trace of disapproval in the careful strokes that made Xue Deng’s kind face. His eyes remain warm and determined, as he gazes down to Xue Mu in voiceless regard.

Xue Mu returns the sentiment, studying the portrait as exchange. His left eyelid sticks from the blood and his temple throbs from the blow he’s received. He doesn’t let them bother him.

Instead, he lets his eyes mindlessly trace the lines of Xue Deng’s countenance. Forehead, nose, smile, eyes. Forehead, nose, smile, eyes. The mental action becomes routine enough that, after a while, his mind hazes with foggy thoughts.

Forehead, nose, smile, eyes. Forehead, nose, smile, eyes.

His thoughts beat sluggishly against the skull of his head, as sluggish as the circulation of his qi. He lightly frowns. Why is he here again?

The line of Xue Mu’s gaze falls on Xue Deng’s eyes once more, but this time, the warmth in those eyes tapers off just before it touches Xue Mu’s cold heart, cold chest. I killed Shifu, Xue Mu thinks, a trace of amusement curling lightly within his chest. Did you expect this outcome, Sect Founder, when you came to him once upon a dream? I killed him. There is no taking that back.

The candles flicker once, but that is it. No one’s wrath descends upon Xue Mu. No one’s answer comes for his heart’s question, as well. Xue Deng’s slight smile does not falter even in the half-shadow, and so Xue Mu tilts up his head. Closes his eyes.

Even in this Frozen Dragon sect that values capability above everything else, they will not take too kindly to Xue Mu’s actions, as driven to the corner as he was, especially enacted towards someone who was his own benefactor. Xue Mu can already hear Ru Peng’s calm, soothing recitation in his head. We cannot have a moment of respite; we must continue onwards, finish what we have done. 

And Xue Mu’s ingratitude and cruelty shall dog his shadows for the rest of his life. For the better or for the worse.

It’s alright, though. Even kindness can spur you to take extreme ends, can spur you to bleed yourself dry for the sake of others. Isn’t that sort of compassion-driven resolve the first stone foundation that lies upon Frozen Dragon sect? 

Xue Mu opens his eyes. Right… right. He’s no stranger to doing his utmost, in any case. It’s decided, then. Xue Mu will be kind for the rest of his life, to make up for this one time. Maybe he can even be nice to the wulin; who cares that righteous and demonic sects can’t really intermingle? 

What’s another broken rule, eh?

“Young Master Xue?”

Ah, what great timing. His Ru-gege has found him. 

Xue Mu grins, feeling the force stretching his cheeks, stinging him - from the wounds, probably. He kneels down on the ground, before kowtowing to the sect founder, forehead pressed firm upon the floor. Then, he gets up, before turning towards the hall threshold. As he makes his way, he leaves behind a trail of blood.

“Coming, gege~”