Dark.
Endless darkness.
Wei Wuxian no longer remembered how long he had been floating in this void. There is no light, no sound, no temperature, not even the concept of time. He could only feel that his consciousness was like a candle in the wind, flickering on and off, but stubbornly refusing to be completely extinguished.
Memories from his lifetime would occasionally come flooding back - the lotus pond at Lotus Pier, the rooftop in the depths of the clouds, the evil name of the ancestor of Yiling, the figure sitting alone on the mass grave. There are also senior sister's lotus root and pork ribs soup, Jiang Cheng's Zidian, and Lan Zhan's piano music.
The one with the most is Lan Zhan.
The person who stood by his side from beginning to end, the person who was pushed away by him but came closer again and again, the person who finally held his body on the mass grave, with blood staining his white clothes.
Wei Wuxian sometimes thinks that if he sees Lan Zhan again, he must apologize properly. Not because of those evil ways, but because he suffered so much pain.
But he also knew that this was impossible.
He is already dead.
Completely, cleanly dead.
Until that day, a gap suddenly opened in the darkness.
Not light, but a... Call. It was extremely weak, like a thread so thin that it was almost invisible, extending from a distant place and touching his consciousness.
Wei Wuxian opened his eyes suddenly - if that could be called "eyes".
Is this... Spiritual magic?
Wrong. The spirit-asking technique is to summon the undead. He is indeed an undead now, but the feeling of this power is not right. Not like Qin Yu from the Lan family, nor like any other student.
