His last memory was of being surrounded at the mass grave. Thousands of cultivators shouted for his blood, and he no longer had the strength to fight. But now...
“Where is this?” He pushed himself up. Unfamiliar streets stretched around him, muddy and flooded with filthy water. In the distance, towering city walls loomed, built in a style unlike any city he knew.
A faint sob in the rain caught his attention. Wei Wuxian followed the sound and spotted a small figure huddled beneath the eaves of a dilapidated house.
The child looked about four or five, dressed in rags and soaked through, shivering from the cold. When Wei Wuxian came closer and saw the child’s face, he was struck as if by lightning.
Though grimy, that little face was identical to his own childhood face.
“Little one, you...” Wei Wuxian crouched down, his voice softening without him realizing it.
The child looked up, revealing bright eyes just like his own, and said timidly, “M-my name is Wei Ying.”
Note: This is all made up. If you’re looking for a substitute version, please give it a pass. Thank you! 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻
