Part 12 – Insult to Injury

“…Sizhui,” Lan Jingyi said helplessly, watching after his friend’s fading form with all the rest.

Lan Wangji’s eyes flashed coldly as he turned back. “Jiang Wanyin!”

“Call me out all you like,” Jiang Cheng said with a stubborn sneer. “What have I done that is not within my rights? Am I to suffer the blood of my enemies to stroll through these gates?”

“Jiang Cheng,” Wei Wuxian said with a sigh. “That young man is not your enemy.”

“All Wen-dogs are my enemies.” Scoring his gaze across Nie Huaisang, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji in turn, Jiang Cheng grit out, “They should be yours, too—if you had an ounce of dignity between you.”

The last to tear his eyes away from the spot in the sky where Lan Sizhui had vanished, Jin Ling rounded upon his uncle. “How hardheaded can you be?!” he cried. “Lan Sizhui never did a thing to you, or anyone else! Are you really that dense that you’d brand him an enemy just because his surname is Wen?”

“You stupid brat! How dare you speak to me this way?” Jiang Cheng yelled, going red in the face. “What the hell do you know about anything?!”

Defiantly, Jin Ling glared back. “I know Wei Wuxian killed both my parents, and I forgave him anyway!” Wei Wuxian blanched, shrinking in on himself. “If I can do that, you can forgive Lan Sizhui that much easier! Did he choose to be born a Wen? Did he choose what blood is in his veins? Judging a person for something they can’t help just makes you look like a bitter old fool!”

“The fool is you for thinking blood isn’t important!” Jiang Cheng said, grabbing his nephew up by the lapels. “If it wasn’t for the shared blood between us, I’d strike you down right here and now for the way you’ve insulted me. You think you can go toe-to-toe with me just because you’re a sect leader in name?—I’ll show you the difference between us…”

But Jin Ling was undeterred. His finger slashed out toward Wei Wuxian and the others.

“If they can let go of their grudge, why can’t you?” Jin Ling demanded, his brows drawn so fiercely the vermillion dot between them crushed to a sliver. “It’s the same grudge, so what’s your problem, Uncle? Why have they moved on with their lives, and you’re the only one still shouting about Wen-dogs? I think you’re worried that if you abandon your hatred, you won’t have anything left!”

Jiang Cheng had gone from red to white then back to red again. Shaking with rage, he shoved Jin Ling away from him so hard the young man stumbled, and Fairy yipped in concern.

“You get out of my sight too!” Jiang Cheng seethed. “If you want to choose some Wen-dog’s side over mine, then good riddance to you!”

Jin Ling picked himself up in a fury. Without sparing his uncle a backward glance, he leapt up on Suihua and shot off into the sky, in the direction Lan Sizhui had gone.

“A-LING!” Jiang Cheng roared after him, cracking out with Zidian in a violet arc of pure, scintillating indignation. “You get back here RIGHT NOW!!”

But the young man didn’t turn back, or even so much as pause in his flight.

In the aftermath of Jin Ling’s furious departure, a tense, awkward silence ensued. Jiang Cheng breathed heavily, still red in the face. Zidian hung limp in his fist, his normally severely-tied hair now flying askew in the breeze. Wordlessly and abruptly, he turned on his heel and stalked off through the gate. The spiritual dogs slinked along behind him. Hesitating for another long, awkward moment, the Jiang disciples trailed after him as well.

Utterly abandoned, the guests stood looking between themselves. It was Nie Huaisang who broke the silence at last.

Gesturing with his folded fan, he asked, “…Well, should we let ourselves in?”

Mo Dao Zu Shi © Mo Xiang Tong Xiu