It warms him, Claudius' faith in Wei Ying's goodness. He thinks of the little he knew of Mo Xuanyu. He was slender, with delicate features, a sweet and lovely face. Lan Wangji knows those features better than he knows his own now, but he'll never know the man who once wore them. He was a middling cultivator at best, a cut-sleeve who painted his face like a hanged ghost, and a bastard whose family scorned and abused him. He should not have died, but he did. Wei Ying should not have lived again, but he does.
"When Wei Ying awoke in his new body, his arm bore four wounds, one for each member of the Mo family upon whom Mo Xuanyu wanted revenge. In the process of taming the severed arm, as Mo Xuanyu's tormentors died, the wounds healed. If Wei Ying had not fulfilled that portion of the sacrificing ritual, his soul would have been destroyed."
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"When Wei Ying awoke in his new body, his arm bore four wounds, one for each member of the Mo family upon whom Mo Xuanyu wanted revenge. In the process of taming the severed arm, as Mo Xuanyu's tormentors died, the wounds healed. If Wei Ying had not fulfilled that portion of the sacrificing ritual, his soul would have been destroyed."