16 Chapter 16: This Venerable One Is Stunned

Mo Ran really couldn't be blamed for being so bestial. Trapped in a tight space with someone you'd gone to bed with countless times—regardless of whether it was heartfelt or feigned, out of revenge or fondness—and inhaling their familiar scent… Anyone's thoughts would waver in a situation like that.

Besides, Mo Ran was a reprobate to begin with.

Shi Mei was his moonlight. Mo Ran didn't have the heart to touch him; he couldn't risk ruining him. But he had no such qualms about wrecking Chu Wanning. Upon Chu Wanning, he could without restraint vent all of his immoralities, feral desires, and bone-deep savagery.

He could grind this person into dust, pin him down, tear him apart, run him through, subject him to everything that he would never even think of doing to Shi Mei.

In the past life, every time he'd seen Chu Wanning with his head thrown back, neck bared and the jut of his throat bobbing, Mo Ran had felt like he might lose himself and turn into a bloodthirsty beast, had been consumed by his desire to rip open Chu Wanning's throat, guzzle his blood, crush his bones.

He didn't care for Chu Wanning, and so he held nothing back.

Eventually, Mo Ran's body had even developed an ingrained response from all the defiling he had done. A mere whiff of Chu Wanning's scent would light a fire in his abdomen and make his heart itch—make him want to tie Chu Wanning down to a bed to fuck.

In the silence of the coffin, Mo Ran's frenzied heartbeats were audible. He knew that Chu Wanning's face was somewhere close because he could feel his breaths. If he were to lunge forward with a bite now, Chu Wanning would be unable to get away. But…

Never mind.

Mo Ran shuffled backward, away from Chu Wanning—though not without much difficulty, as the coffin really was cramped.

"Sorry about that, Shizun." Mo Ran laughed awkwardly. "Didn't expect the coffin to sha—ake!"

As he was speaking, the coffin tilted again. Mo Ran rolled into Chu Wanning's arms once more.

Chu Wanning did not deign to respond.

Mo Ran shuffled backward a second time, and again, the coffin lurched. This repeated over and over.

"Did I get cursed or what?" Mo Ran scurried back yet again.

The golden boy and jade maiden were probably going up a slope. It was too slippery inside the coffin, and before long, Mo Ran once more rolled helplessly into Chu Wanning.

"Shizun…" Mo Ran bit his lip, putting on a pitiful air. This fellow had been born with endearing looks; if he put his mind to it, he could hide his wolf tail and put on a convincing puppy dog act.

Chu Wanning said nothing.

Mo Ran really didn't want to get rolled around anymore, so he simply gave up fighting it altogether. "I'm really not doing it on purpose."

Still nothing.

"The wounds on my back hurt from hitting the wall…" Mo Ran continued in a small voice.

In the darkness, Chu Wanning seemed to sigh softly, though with the incessantly loud gongs and drums outside, Mo Ran couldn't be sure if he'd heard right.

But in the next moment, the scent of haitang flowers grew stronger as Chu Wanning placed his hand behind Mo Ran's back, blocking the gap so that Mo Ran wouldn't bump into it again.

It wasn't quite a hug—Chu Wanning held his arm at a distance and made sure not to make contact with Mo Ran's body, other than his clothes draping over him—but the position was still a bit intimate.

"Be careful. Don't hit it again." Chu Wanning's voice was deep, like porcelain submerged in a creek, steady and dignified. It would have been a striking voice to listen to, if one weren't listening to it through a shroud of hatred.

"Mn."

No one spoke after that.

Mo Ran was a growing teenager at this time, and he wasn't as tall as he would be as an adult. At present, in Chu Wanning's arms, his forehead only reached Chu Wanning's chin.

This feeling was awfully familiar, yet also awfully unfamiliar. The familiar part was the person lying beside him. The unfamiliar part was the position in which they lay.

In their previous lifetime, not so long ago, it had always been Mo Ran lying in Sisheng Peak's Wushan Palace, a lonesome Taxian-jun with no one left to turn to, in a darkness so endless that he could hardly breathe, clutching Chu Wanning tightly in his arms.

By then, he'd physically outgrown Chu Wanning and was also stronger than his shizun. His arms were like clamps, like shackles, latching on to the remaining bit of warmth in his arms, as if holding on to the very last ember of fire in the world.

He would lower his head to kiss Chu Wanning's inky black hair, then lean in close, insatiable, and burrow his face into the crook of Chu Wanning's neck to ruthlessly bite and gnaw.

"I hate you, Chu Wanning. I really hate you so much."

His voice was a little hoarse.

"But you're all I have left."

Mo Ran was none too gently jolted out of his memories by a series of crashes and bumps. The sound of gongs and drums stopped abruptly, and a deathly silence settled over everything.

"Shizun…"

Chu Wanning reached out and pressed a finger to his lips, cautioning him in a low voice. "Don't talk. We're here."

Sure enough, there were no more footsteps outside, only silence.

Chu Wanning's fingertip lit up with a faint golden light. A quick slash on the coffin wall and a narrow gap was cut open, just enough for them to peek outside.

They had indeed been brought to the outskirts of Butterfly Town. The front of the temple was densely cluttered with coffins. The heavy scent of Hundred Butterfly Fragrance in the air grew heavier still as it drifted through the opening into the coffin.

Mo Ran suddenly realized that something was off. "Shizun, does it seem like this scent—and the one in the illusory realm—aren't quite the same as the scent in Chen-gongzi's coffin?"

"How so?"

Mo Ran had a keen sense of smell. "Back at the northern mountain, when the coffin first split open, the scent that drifted out was pleasant and didn't cause me any discomfort; that one was almost certainly the Hundred Butterfly Fragrance. But ever since we entered the illusory realm, I've felt like the smell, although similar, is somewhat different. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but now…I think I know what it is."

Chu Wanning turned to look at him. "You dislike this smell?"

Mo Ran remained pressed against the opening, peering outside. "Mn. I've hated the smell of incense ever since I was little. The scent here and in the illusory realm aren't Hundred Butterfly Fragrance at all, but the scent of the special incense that the people of Butterfly Town burn for the ghost mistress of ceremonies. Look over there."

Chu Wanning followed Mo Ran's gaze and saw three incense sticks, each as thick as a child's arm, standing in the incense burner in front of the temple. Their scent diffused leisurely into the air.

The people of Butterfly Town made all kinds of scented products using flowers, and even their incense was locally produced. Since everything was made from the flowers grown around town, the resulting scents were quite similar to people unfamiliar with the art.

"Could it be that the scent in Chen-gongzi's coffin actually has nothing to do with the one in the illusion?" Chu Wanning pondered aloud.

Before he could finish mulling over this new detail, his thoughts were interrupted by a piercing red light from within the temple. They both looked in that direction to see the light shining resplendent, illuminating the whole area. A row of red lotus lamps, used for making wishes, sat on a stand at the side of the temple. One by one, they lit up.

The ghost children escorting the coffins all knelt at once, chanting, "Mistress of Ceremonies descending, pray guide these lonely souls to escape suffering and find mates so that they may be joined in burial, partnered in the afterlife."

The statue of the ghost mistress of ceremonies inside the temple emitted a holy golden light amidst the thundering chant. Then its eyelids lowered, the corners of its lips moved slowly, and it leapt gracefully from the altar.

Graceful movement. Poised bearing.

Unfortunately, the body, made of clay, was much too heavy. The young maiden landed with a thud, smashing a huge crater into the ground.

Mo Ran snorted. "Pfft."

Chu Wanning only stared.

The ghost mistress seemed quite dissatisfied with its weight. It stared at the crater for quite a while before stepping out with slow, deliberate steps as it rearranged its clothing.

Its appearance was that of a maiden draped in rich reds, its face painted with makeup and a strand of cypress in its hair. The overall look was quite festive. In the darkness of night, it turned its neck one way, then the other, and came to a stop in front of the hundred coffins. The breeze was suffused with the stench of corpse rot. The ghost mistress's mood seemed to improve, and it slowly spread out its arms, letting out a croaking sort of laughter.

"All who believe in and worship me shall be granted a partner in marriage to fulfill that which they were denied in life." The delicate voice drifted in the night, and the ghosts and monsters began to prostrate themselves in gratitude.

"Mistress of Ceremonies, please impart your blessings!"

"Mistress of Ceremonies, pray bestow marriage upon them!"

Such pleas came wave after wave. The ghost mistress seemed delighted as it weaved slowly between the rows of coffins, dragging its long, scarlet-painted nails along their sides, the shrill sound ear-piercing.

"Shizun, I remember you mentioning before that monsters, deities, ghosts, gods, demons, and humans each occupy their own realms. Why is this deity hanging out with the ghosts down here instead of living it up in the ninth heaven upstairs?" Mo Ran wondered.

"Because it is in charge of ghost marriages and is sustained by the worship of ghosts," Chu Wanning replied. "The ghosts must provide it with immense merits, or it wouldn't have been able to cultivate into a deity in a mere few hundred years. With such an advantageous arrangement, it's naturally glad to keep the company of these underworld 'friends.'"

The ghost mistress circled the cluster of coffins and returned to the front, at which point its delicate voice rang out once again. "A marriage shall be bestowed upon each coffin opened. Start from the left."

Following its command, the first coffin on the left slowly opened, a golden boy and jade maiden bowing respectfully by its side. The corpses within climbed out unsteadily, their faces looking even more deathly pale against the vibrant red of their wedding garments. The couple slowly made their way before the ghost mistress and knelt.

The ghost mistress put its hand between them and spoke. "As the mistress of ceremonies, I hereby confer upon thee a posthumous marriage. Henceforth you are husband and wife, male and female joyous in the joining."

Mo Ran rolled his eyes and muttered, "Don't wax poetic if you don't know how to. These wedding vows sound obscene."

"You have quite the indecent imagination," Chu Wanning said coldly.

Mo Ran shut up.

But before long, the ghost mistress promptly demonstrated that, in fact, the indecent one here was not Mo Ran but this deity in charge of ghost marriages.

It was as if the pair of newlywed corpses had consumed aphrodisiacs. They were clearly already dead, yet they tore at each other's clothing, kissing and embracing in a frenzied tangle right then and there, shamelessly out in the open in front of everyone.

Chu Wanning and Mo Ran were left speechless.

"As the Mistress of Ceremonies, I hereby grant thee the joys of the natural order. Yin and yang may mate, regardless of life or death!"

The ghost mistress's shrieking grew increasingly shrill and haughty. The corpses' movements also grew increasingly exaggerated. The male corpse divested himself of clothing and was ridiculously vigorous, no different from a live person.

Mo Ran was totally stunned. "You can't just…fucking…do that!"