Chapter Text
Prologue
AtThe air in Koi Tower crackled with an unusual tension, a palpable hum that vibrated through the assembled cultivators. Every major sect, every influential figure in the cultivation world, had converged upon this singular location. The reason for this unprecedented gathering, this suspension of rivalries and grudges, was a name whispered with a mixture of awe, fear, and fervent curiosity: the Yiling Patriarch.
This most famous figure in the entire cultivation sect had burst onto the cultivation scene with the force of a rogue wave during the Wen clan’s tyrannical reign. When the combined might of the Jiang, Lan, Nie, and Jin sects seemed poised to crumble before Wen Ruohan’s relentless expansion, the Yiling Patriarch had emerged from the shadows. His first act, a brutal and decisive confrontation with Wen Chao, had been a spectacle that defied belief. Where the esteemed Jiang Cheng and the revered Lan Wangji had struggled, this unknown cultivator had single-handedly vanquished the arrogant Wen scion, turning the tide of a seemingly lost battle.
Yet, despite his pivotal role in the war against the Wens, the Yiling Patriarch remained an infamous. No one knew his true name, his origins, or even what his face looked like. He was a phantom, a force of nature whose influence spread like wildfire. The current disquiet stemmed from his latest audacious move: the establishment of his own faction, comprised of the Wen prisoners he had spirited away from under the very noses of the Jin and Nie clans. This act, a blatant challenge to the established order, had sent ripples of unease and speculation throughout the cultivation world.
However, amidst the political maneuvering and hushed discussions surrounding the Yiling Patriarch, a seemingly unrelated personal matter was unfolding, at least on the surface.
For Madam Yu, the formidable wife of Jiang Fengmian, a long-awaited joy had finally materialized. Her cherished daughter, Jiang Yanli, had married Jin Zixuan, fulfilling a union that had been years in the making. Yet, the glow of that happy occasion, now a month past, was not the sole source of Madam Yu’s unusual contentment.
A far more significant, and arguably more arduous, victory had been achieved in the intervening weeks. Against all odds, Madam Yu had finally managed to sway Jiang Fengmian into agreeing to a marriage alliance for Wei Wuxian with the esteemed Lan clan’s Second Jade, Lan Wangji. This was a triumph that had eluded her for years. Despite Wei Wuxian’s adopted status and her own often-expressed disdain for him, Jiang Cheng, Jiang Yanli, and even the usually placid Jiang Fengmian had consistently resisted any attempts to marry him off. Had it not been for their unwavering protectiveness, Madam Yu would have gladly arranged a match for Wei Wuxian with the first willing party, be they cultivator or commoner. But Wei Wuxian himself had always vehemently opposed such arrangements.
This time, however, Jiang Fengmian’s resistance had crumbled. His acquiescence spoke volumes. Perhaps he had finally recognized the strategic advantage of a marriage with the powerful Lan sect, or perhaps he simply lacked the will to continue opposing his wife’s determined machinations.
Wei Wuxian, the subject of this familial negotiation, couldn’t help but harbor a bitter resentment towards those who might perceive Jiang Fengmian’s actions as those of a loving father securing a good future for his adopted son. In the cold light of reality, Wei Wuxian knew his place. He was, and would always be, the son of a servant, a fact that Madam Yu never allowed him to forget.
And so, today was his wedding day. He sat stiffly within the confines of a richly adorned carriage, the rhythmic sway a stark contrast to the turmoil within him. Their destination was the Lan sect, the fabled Cloud Recesses, a place whispered to be a sanctuary of serene beauty. The procession was modest, a stark departure from the lavish displays that typically accompanied alliances between prominent cultivation clans. A handful of servants carrying carefully selected gifts, a contingent of Jiang sect disciples, and the somber figures of Jiang Fengmian, Madam Yu, and Jiang Cheng accompanied him.
As they ascended the winding mountain path leading to Cloud Recesses, a noticeable chill descended upon the air, a sudden drop in temperature that seemed to mirror the growing unease in Wei Wuxian’s heart. However, the weather was not the source of his profound shock upon their arrival. The simplicity of the welcome was jarring. There was no grand assembly of cultivators, no representatives from other sects, not even a boisterous crowd of well-wishers. Only the serene figures of the Lan clan awaited them, alongside the Jiang delegation.
Cloud Recesses itself was breathtaking, a landscape of ethereal beauty that lived up to its legendary reputation. Verdant peaks pierced the mist-laden sky, waterfalls cascaded down rocky cliffs, and the air hummed with a palpable spiritual energy. Even through the suffocating layers of his wedding attire, Wei Wuxian could sense the otherworldly tranquility of the place.
He was draped in heavy, luxurious red silk, the elaborate robes traditionally reserved for a bride. The weight of the fabric felt symbolic, a physical manifestation of the expectations and constraints being placed upon him. He was a man, a cultivator of considerable skill, yet he was being dressed as a woman. The unspoken implications of this choice gnawed at him. Was it because he was an omega? But even as an omega, he was still a man. Why this elaborate charade? He had never been consulted, never offered a say in any of this. He didn’t even know precisely when this marriage had been arranged.
And just like that, the ceremony was underway. He went through the motions, performing the ancient rituals with a detached sense of unreality. Bows were made, vows were exchanged – though he barely registered the words – and finally, it was declared. Wei Wuxian was married.
As the evening progressed, hushed congratulations and well wishes were offered. Then came the moment he had been dreading: the time for the newly married couple to retire. Lan Wangji, his face an impassive mask, rose from his seat, and Wei Wuxian followed, their hands briefly touching as they moved away from the assembled guests.
But their shared departure was short-lived. After only a few steps, Lan Wangji’s hand slipped from his, and the stern figure of Lan Qiren appeared, his gaze unwavering. He directed Wei Wuxian to follow him, leading him away from the direction Lan Wangji had taken.
A cold dread washed over Wei Wuxian. The separation of a newlywed couple immediately after the ceremony felt deeply wrong, an ominous sign of something amiss. His anxieties solidified into a chilling certainty as he was led to a small, sparsely furnished room. Two unfamiliar omegas stood waiting within.
Then, the words spoken by Lan Qiren shattered the last vestiges of Wei Wuxian’s hope, tearing away the carefully constructed façade of this supposed marriage.
“Wei Wuxian,” Lan Qiren began, his voice devoid of warmth, “you are aware, are you not, that we purchased you from the Yunmeng Jiang clan?”
The truth hit Wei Wuxian with the force of a physical blow. He hadn’t been married; he had been sold. The elaborate wedding, the beautiful setting – it had all been a carefully orchestrated deception, a performance for the sake of appearances, or perhaps simply to lull him into a false sense of security.
“We require heirs from you,” Lan Qiren continued, his gaze piercing. “Therefore, you will produce heirs as quickly as possible. The Yunmeng Jiang clan assured us of your fertility and your untouched state. We trust this to be true.”
Although the explicit threat remained unspoken, the implication hung heavy in the air. If not, you will not be tolerated here. Lan Qiren’s stern expression conveyed everything. Wei Wuxian, adept at reading the subtle cues of human emotion, understood the unspoken ultimatum with chilling clarity.
This was not the beginning of a marriage; it was the commencement of a transaction, the dawn of a life irrevocably altered, a future shrouded in servitude. His world, the fragile sense of belonging he had cultivated within the Yunmeng Jiang clan, had been brutally dismantled. It took a moment for the reality of Lan Qiren’s departure, and the silent scrutiny of the two omegas, to fully register.
So why was Wei Wuxian’s life, this brutal unveiling of his true circumstances, being laid bare? Why this focus on a seemingly insignificant pawn in the grand scheme of the cultivation world, when the eyes of all sects were fixed on the enigmatic Yiling Patriarch?