𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫: @ghcstchild from xue yang

Xue Yang watches as the spirit trapping pouch is both observed and dismissed in the hands of Wei Wuxian, the only man capable of returning the cultivator in whites spirit to his body. If Wei Wuxian could rise from the dead after so many years, bringing the ghost general back at his side, there was very little that the delinquent believed he couldn't do.

Hand shakes, coming to a tight fist at his side ( sans his pinky finger that remains stick straight, clothed in the black fabric of a glove ), as his request for help is immediately dismissed. If a spiritual cognition doesn't have the will to live, then it'll most likely be impossible to save. It doesn't come naturally to him, to ask for assistance, in a world that had only ever tried to crush him beneath their feet. But something about the man before him makes it almost easy.

"We are of the same nature, Yilling Laozu -- I don't take to following the ways of others so easily . . . but you are something else." Is it jealousy or admiration that fuels Xue Yang's adoration of the demonic cultivator, he can't entirely be sure. Perhaps both. "This is not beyond you, so think of it as a challenge. Work with me."