The Silence And The Song

The Unseen Hunt

Chapter 6: The Unseen Hunt

A frantic messenger arrived at the Jingshi just as the moon climbed high. A small village nestled near a swampy, remote mountain pass had been plagued by a powerful, invisible entity—something that snatched livestock and left behind only freezing cold and fear.

Lan Wangji, dressed in his night-hunt armor, was ready instantly, his spiritual sword Bichen gleaming faintly. Wei Wuxian, strapping Chenqing to his belt, was equally energized, though perhaps less formally dressed.

“A shame it’s invisible,” Wei Wuxian muttered as they hiked through the dense, moonlit forest. “How will I know what to aim my righteous indignation at? And how will I know if it’s cute enough to spare?”

“Focus,” Lan Wangji instructed, his voice low and serious. The stakes were real, and his protective alertness was palpable.

The moment they reached the village clearing, a wave of profound, unnatural cold washed over them, chilling them to the bone despite their spiritual energy. The air was thick, shimmering faintly in places—the only evidence of the entity's presence.

“It drains spiritual energy just by being close,” Wei Wuxian noted, pulling his arm tighter around Lan Wangji’s as they moved through the clearing. “Tricky. My spiritual power is already weaker than yours, Lan Zhan. I’ll need to rely on resentful energy control.”

Lan Wangji nodded curtly. “I will cleanse and stabilize. You will bind and force it into form.”

This was the nature of their teamwork: Lan Wangji, with his refined, pure power, would clear the field and provide precision; Wei Wuxian, with his unorthodox, chaotic control, would fight the darkness with the darkness itself.

The entity attacked without warning. A rush of frigid air slammed into Lan Wangji, forcing him back a step. He immediately unsheathed Bichen, swinging the blade in a silent arc of brilliant blue light that pushed the cold back, but failed to connect with anything solid.

“It's fast, Lan Zhan! And low to the ground!” Wei Wuxian shouted. He stepped forward, putting himself intentionally into the heart of the frigid zone.

Lan Wangji immediately reached out, grabbing Wei Wuxian’s wrist—not to restrain him, but to steady him, lending him his spiritual reserve.

“Guqin,” Lan Wangji commanded. He quickly drew Wangji from his back, setting it on the mossy ground.

Wei Wuxian understood. He needed pure sound to force the unseen spirit to respond. Lan Wangji’s music was the spiritual net.

Lan Wangji struck the strings of the guqin. The sound was instantly deep and stabilizing, pure energy vibrating outward, acting as an anchor in the spiritual plane. The unseen entity reacted with a desperate howl, a high, whistling sound that rattled the trees.

The entity’s cold deepened, wrapping around Lan Wangji like heavy chains, trying to freeze his hands to the strings. Sweat beaded on Lan Wangji's brow as he pushed against the immense, draining cold.

“Now, Wei Ying!”

Wei Wuxian took a deep breath, raising Chenqing to his lips. The sound that followed was nothing like the gentle music of the Jingshi. It was a raw, commanding blast, a melody of chaos that twisted and tore at the resentful energy of the swamp itself.

Wei Wuxian aimed his music directly at the center of the whistling, cold air. The combination of the guqin’s pure, stabilizing bass tones and the flute’s high, destructive command was unbearable to the spirit.

Slowly, painfully, the entity began to coalesce. The air grew dark, thickening into a spectral, skeletal mass of shadow—a formless creature bound by its own malice.

“Good! Stay put, beast!” Wei Wuxian yelled triumphantly, maintaining the intense pressure of the flute.

But the spectral mass suddenly split, sending a sharp, dagger-like shard of frozen resentment straight at Wei Wuxian’s unprotected head.

Lan Wangji saw the attack instantly. Without thinking, without pausing his guqin playing, he shifted his body, using his shoulder to block the shard’s path. The spiritual weapon shattered against the perfect spiritual armor of his robes, but the force slammed him sideways.

Wei Wuxian gasped, dropping Chenqing momentarily to check on his husband. “Lan Zhan!”

“Finish it,” Lan Wangji grit out, regaining his posture instantly, his fingers flying across the strings with renewed fury. His attack was now aimed with lethal precision, targeting the weak point of the entity.

Knowing Lan Wangji was focused on offense, Wei Wuxian snatched up his flute. He played the final note—a sharp, high-pitched command that ripped the bindings of resentful energy from the spectral body.

With a final, desperate cry, the dark mass dispersed completely, scattering into harmless vapor. The heavy, unnatural cold was instantly replaced by the normal, quiet coolness of the night.

Lan Wangji slowly let his hands rest on the strings. He finally looked at Wei Wuxian, his golden eyes blazing with adrenaline and concern.

Wei Wuxian rushed to him, grabbing Lan Wangji’s shoulders and inspecting him fiercely. “Are you hurt? You were hit! You didn’t even stop playing!”

“I am fine,” Lan Wangji stated, brushing off the invisible dust of resentful energy. He looked at the spot where Wei Wuxian had been standing, unprotected, when he had shielded him. “You were reckless.”

Wei Wuxian laughed, the adrenaline making him giddy. “And you were protective! You break rules faster than I do now! You didn’t pause your music for a second to protect me. That is true love, Lan Zhan. That is absolute trust in our harmony.”

He lowered his voice, pulling Lan Wangji in close, the scent of fresh pine and moonlight replacing the chill of the fight.

“You provide the anchor,” Wei Wuxian whispered, his voice full of fierce pride. “And I will always rely on it.”

Lan Wangji closed his eyes briefly, accepting the touch. The successful hunt—a display of coordination born of trust, not rules—was the final, strongest confirmation of their bond.

“Let us return,” Lan Wangji said, a slight, genuine smile finally touching the very edge of his lips. “I believe you are overdue for your punishment of quiet rest.”