Chapter 8: This Venerable One Gets Punished

Mo Ran spent three whole days lying on his bed like a dead fish. His wounds had only just closed when he received a summons telling him to get the hell over to the Red Lotus Pavilion to do manual labor.

This was part of the punishment as well. Mo Ran couldn't go down the mountain during his period of confinement, but neither was he permitted to just sit around. And so, he would help out by doing odd jobs around the sect. These odd jobs were generally things like helping the cafeteria lady at Mengpo Hall wash dishes, giving the three hundred and sixty-five stone lions on the pillars of Naihe Bridge a good scrub, transcribing copies of tedious files and dull scriptures, so on and so forth.

But just what kind of place was the Red Lotus Pavilion? It was the residence of that bastard, Chu Wanning, the accursed den that everyone called Red Lotus Hell. Only a handful of people of Sisheng Peak had ever set foot within it. Of the ones who had, every single one had come back with either their arms or legs broken. Thus, in addition to Red Lotus Hell, Chu Wanning's residence had another nickname that was even more unpretentious: the Pavilion of Broken Legs.

The sect disciples had an inside joke: "The pavilion hides a beauty; the beauty holds Tianwen. Enter through the Gate of Broken Legs and know the agony of getting your legs broken. If you want your meridians busted, look no further than the Yuheng Elder."

Once, a fearless female disciple who was outrageously lecherous had actually dared to thirst after the Yuheng Elder's beauty. She had snuck to the southern peak on a moonless night to climb onto the roof, hoping to peek at the elder as he bathed.

The outcome was a foregone conclusion. That female warrior had been escorted by Tianwen to the very border of life and death, and had been bedridden for no less than one hundred miserable days. Furthermore, Chu Wanning had declared that any further transgressions would be met directly with an eye-gouging.

You see? What blunt boorishness! What insensitive behavior! What a loathsome man!

Within the sect, there had been a number of naïve and foolish young girls who—thinking that as girls, the Yuheng Elder would pity them and show them compassion—would giggle and tease him, boldly hoping to arouse his attention. However, once the elder butchered that female delinquent, no one had dared attempt to hit on him again.

The Yuheng Elder was indiscriminate when it came to lashes, having not a scrap of a proper gentleman's disposition. Other than his pretty face, he had nothing to recommend him—or such was the opinion of the sect's disciples.

The little messenger shidi looked at Mo Ran with sympathy in his eyes. He tried to hold back, but in the end, he couldn't. "Mo-Shixiong…"

"Hm?"

"The Yuheng Elder's temper is so bad that no one who enters the Red Lotus Pavilion comes out standing. Why don't you see if you could say your wounds haven't healed and beg the Yuheng Elder to let you wash dishes instead?"

Mo Ran was eminently grateful for this shidi's Buddha-like compassion, but he still rejected the idea. Beg Chu Wanning? Please. He didn't want to go another round with Tianwen.

Thus, with immense effort, he dressed himself and dragged his heavy feet toward the southern summit of Sisheng Peak, reluctance weighing down his every step.

Red Lotus Pavilion, Red Lotus Hell. There was not a single soul in sight for a hundred miles around Chu Wanning's residence. No one wanted to stray close to where he lived; Chu Wanning's terrible taste and unpredictable temper made everyone in the sect stay far away, only ever watching him from a respectful distance.

Mo Ran remained somewhat nervous; he didn't know what Chu Wanning would make him do as punishment. His thoughts ran wild for the entirety of his journey to the peak of the southern summit. After he crossed through a dense field of bamboo groves, a large expanse of vividly crimson red lotuses came into view.

It was yet fairly early in the morning. The sun had only just risen in the east, and it shone with a dazzling gleam on the horizon. From the heavenly lotus pads in the pond grew stalks that connected the crimson blossoms with the fiery red skies; flower and sky each absorbed and reflected the other to amplify their radiance, until they were legitimately impressive to behold. Upon the pond, a winding zig-zag bridge led to a pavilion that stood in quiet elegance. Behind it lay a mountainous backdrop that streamed with curtains of waterfalls. Beads of water tinkled onto the rocks below like shards of crystal, shattering into a watery mist that rose like steam. Light shimmered through the haze, casting an ethereal ambiance amidst the calm.

Mo Ran's feeling about all this was: Ugh.

No matter how beautiful it was, anywhere Chu Wanning lived could only be ugh to him!

Look at this excessive lavishness—how wastefully bountiful! The dormitory where the disciples slept was tightly cramped, each room given sparingly little space. Yet look at the Yuheng Elder! He was just one person, but he'd taken over an entire mountaintop and had even dug three giant ponds to plant an abundance of lotus flowers. All right, okay, so these lotus flowers were said to be of unique strains and could be made into medicines of rare quality, but—

Either way, it was an eyesore. It really was too bad that Mo Ran couldn't just set fire to this pavilion and burn it down.

Nevertheless, grousing was nothing more than grousing. Since he was only sixteen and powerless to compete with his shizun, Mo Ran approached Chu Wanning's residence to stand at the front entrance. He curved his eyes into a smile and called out with a disgustingly sweet voice, pretending to be a lowly plebe. "This disciple Mo Ran greets Shizun."

"Mn. Come in."

The interior of the room was a huge mess. That cold-blooded demon Chu Wanning was dressed all in white, the lapels of his robes crisscrossed high and tight to lend him a chaste, ascetic air. Today his hair was up in a high ponytail, and he was seated on the ground surrounded by mechanical parts, a pair of black metal gauntlets on his hands and a brush bitten between his teeth.

He sent Mo Ran an expressionless glance and said around the brush in his mouth, "Come here."

Mo Ran went over. It was actually a little difficult because there wasn't any space left in the house for a person to walk; blueprints, pieces of lumber, and metal parts were scattered all over the place.

Mo Ran's brows twitched. In his previous life, he had never entered Chu Wanning's rooms. Who could've imagined that a poised, handsome man like him would live in such a mess? It was an honestly indescribable feeling.

"Shizun, what are you making?"

"The Holy Night Guardian."

"Huh?"

Chu Wanning was a little grumpy, probably because there was a brush in his mouth that made it inconvenient to talk. "The Holy Night Guardian."

Mo Ran glanced mutely at the parts strewn about the floor.

This shizun of his also had the title Chu-zongshi, which wasn't just an empty appellation. Mo Ran had to admit that, to be fair, Chu Wanning was a remarkable man. Whether it was by the merit of his three holy weapons, his barrier-repairing powers, or his mechanical engineering skills, he had earned the right to be called the "best of the best." This was also why, despite his bad temper and how difficult it was to please him, every major cultivation sect had fought to win him over.

As for the Holy Night Guardian, this was something with which the reborn Mo Ran was more than familiar. It was an automaton of Chu Wanning's invention, cheap in price but tremendously strong and effective in battle. It could protect the common folk in the lower cultivation realm from demonic incursions at night.

In Mo Ran's previous lifetime, the completed Holy Night Guardian had been something that nearly every household owned. Each set of armor was priced around the same as a broom and was more effective than pictures of door guardians and their open, teeth-bared mouths. Even after Chu Wanning's death, those Holy Night Guardians had continued to protect impoverished families who couldn't afford the services of a cultivator.

Such heartfelt compassion, when compared to the indifference with which he treated his disciples… Heh, it filled Mo Ran with contempt.

Mo Ran sat down and looked at the Holy Night Guardian that was currently nothing more than mere parts as events of the past drifted through his mind. Unable to resist, he reached out to pick up one of the guardian's finger joints to examine it.

Chu Wanning clicked together the mortise and tenon of the parts in his hands and finally freed himself to take away the brush that had been between his lips. He glared at Mo Ran. "That one was just oiled. No touching."

"Oh…" Mo Ran put down the finger joint and schooled his thoughts. Still playing the role of someone cute and harmless, he asked with a smile, "Did Shizun summon me here to help?"

"Mn," said Chu Wanning.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Clean the house."

Mo Ran's smile froze. He glanced around him at the room, which looked like it had just survived an earthquake.

For all that Chu Wanning was a genius when it came to cultivation techniques, he truly was an idiot when it came to everyday life.

After cleaning up the fifth teacup that had been shattered but hadn't been swept away, Mo Ran finally couldn't take it anymore. "Shizun, how long has it been since you last cleaned? Sheesh, it's so messy!"

Chu Wanning was currently looking at a blueprint and didn't look up even when he heard the question. "Around a year."

Mo Ran balked. "And where do you usually sleep?"

"What?" That blueprint probably had some problems with it, making Chu Wanning more prickly than usual at being interrupted. He ran a hand through his hair and answered irritably, "On the bed, of course."

Mo Ran took a look at the bed, which was piled high with various gadgets and gimmicks that were nearly finished. It was also laden with saws, axes, sickles, and other such tools, each eminently sharp and glinting with a steely light.

Unbelievable. How did this person sleep without chopping his own head off?

After laboring for over half a day, Mo Ran had swept up enough sawdust and dirt from the floor to fill three dustpans. After wiping down the shelves, more than ten white rags were now black. By the time noon came around, only half the place had been organized.

Fucking Chu Wanning. He really was more vile than a shrew.

Cleaning a room was not, at first glance, a particularly severe punishment. Said out loud, it didn't seem particularly laborious either. However, who could have known this meant sweeping a hellish place that hadn't been cleaned for three hundred and sixty-five days? Never mind that Mo Ran was covered in lash marks, even if he were in perfect health, a tiresome torture like this could still kill him half-dead!

"Shizun…"

"Hm?"

"This pile of clothes…" Had probably been sitting there for three months.

Chu Wanning finally finished connecting an arm of the Holy Night Guardian. He rubbed his sore shoulders and looked up to glance at the laundry basket, currently piled high as a mountain with robes. "I'll wash them myself," he said coolly.

Mo Ran let out a sigh of relief. Thank the heavens. Then afterward, a little curious, he asked, "Eh? Shizun knows how to do laundry?"

Chu Wanning glanced at him. After a moment, he replied stiffly, "How hard can it be? Throw it in water, let it soak a bit, then fish it up to lay dry. Done."

Really. What would the ladies who secretly admired and crushed on Chu-zongshi think if they knew about this? Mo Ran wholeheartedly believed that this repulsive and disgusting man was only good for his looks and nothing else. If this came out, how many tender hearts would be broken?

"It's getting late. Follow me to the cafeteria and do the rest when we come back."

Mengpo Hall was bustling with activity as Sisheng Peak disciples gathered to eat in small groups. Chu Wanning placed a few dishes on his wooden tray and went to sit quietly in a corner.

Gradually, the seats in the twenty-foot radius surrounding him emptied. No one dared to sit near the Yuheng Elder, on the off chance that something might upset him and Tianwen would come out for a whipping. Chu Wanning was aware of this but didn't mind in the least. He sat by himself like a cold beauty, partaking of his meal in a refined manner.

But it was a little different today. Mo Ran had come with him and, naturally, had to sit with him too.

Everyone was afraid of Chu Wanning, and Mo Ran was no exception. But having already died once, he wasn't too frightened of Chu Wanning—especially since the dread from their first meeting had faded away and the loathing he'd felt toward his shizun in his last life had begun to slowly resurface. So what if Chu Wanning was ferocious? He'd also died once before, and by Mo Ran's own hands.

Mo Ran sat down facing him, leisurely chewing his sweet and sour ribs. He ate, crunching away, and a small hill of bones soon materialized by his bowl.

Chu Wanning slammed down his chopsticks.

Mo Ran blinked.

"Can you not smack your lips when you eat?"

"I'm chewing on ribs. How do I chew without smacking my lips?"

"Then don't eat ribs."

"But I like ribs."

"Then get lost and go eat elsewhere."

As they argued, their voices rose higher and higher; some disciples started to steal glances at them.

Mo Ran suppressed the urge to flip the bowl of food onto Chu Wanning's head. His lips, gleaming with oil, pursed into a line. After a while, he squinted, the corner of his mouth curving into a sweet smile. "Don't yell so loudly, Shizun. If others hear, won't they make fun of us?"

Chu Wanning had always had a thin face, and sure enough, he lowered his voice to mutter, "Scram."

Mo Ran laughed so hard he almost fell over.

Silence.

"Ah, don't glare at me, Shizun. Please eat, eat. I'll try to chew quietly." Having had his fun, Mo Ran went back to his good and obedient act, and indeed he ate his ribs much less noisily.

Chu Wanning was amenable to coaxing but not coercion; when Mo Ran did as he was told, his shizun's expression relaxed a bit and he no longer looked so bitter and resentful. He lowered his head and continued elegantly eating his meal of vegetables and tofu.

This peace didn't last long before Mo Ran started acting up again. He didn't know why he was doing what he was doing either; what he did know was that every time he saw Chu Wanning in this lifetime, he just wanted to piss him off, one way or another.

Thus, Chu Wanning noticed that, although Mo Ran was no longer chewing loudly, he was eating with his hands, his fingers covered in grease, the sauce shiny and dripping. The veins at Chu Wanning's temples bulged angrily as he tried to bear with it. He lowered his gaze, not looking at Mo Ran, and focused on eating his own food.

Maybe it was because Mo Ran was enjoying the food so much that he got carried away, but after he was done chewing a particular bone, he carelessly tossed it into Chu Wanning's bowl. Chu Wanning glared at the messily gnawed rib, the air around him freezing visibly with frightening speed.

"Mo Ran…!"

"Shizun…" Mo Ran was slightly terrified, but even he couldn't tell how much of his act was fake and how much was real. "That…uh, I didn't mean to do that."

Yeah, right.

Silence.

"Don't be mad—I'll pick it out right away." As he said so, Mo Ran indeed extended his chopsticks and speedily stuck them into Chu Wanning's bowl to retrieve the offending rib bone.

Chu Wanning's face went blue, and he looked like he was about to faint from disgust.

Mo Ran's eyelashes shivered, his delicate features looking somewhat pitiful as if he'd been wronged. "Does Shizun find me that repulsive?"

Silence.

"Shizun, I'm really sorry."

Forget it, Chu Wanning thought to himself. There was no need to argue with those who were younger than him. He abandoned the urge to call forth Tianwen and give Mo Ran a beating, but his appetite had been wiped out. He stood. "I'm full."

"Eh? That's all you're going to eat? Shizun, you've barely touched your food."

"I wasn't hungry," Chu Wanning said dourly.

Mo Ran was internally delighted, but his mouth kept speaking sweet words. "Then I'm not eating any more either. Let us go back to the Red Lotus He—ahem, the Red Lotus Pavilion."

Chu Wanning's eyes narrowed. "Us?" His gaze was disdainful. "There is no 'us.' Elders and juniors have a hierarchy and distinction; watch your language."

Mo Ran responded agreeably on the outside, his eyes curved in a smile, clever, obedient, and adorable. But on the inside, he thought, Elders and juniors? Watch my language?

Heh, if Chu Wanning only knew what had happened in their previous lifetime, then he would realize that in the end, in this world, only he, Mo Weiyu, was the superior between them. No matter how noble and arrogant Chu Wanning was, how unparalleled, he had ultimately been reduced to a mere speck of mud on the sole of Mo Ran's boots, living on without purpose only by Mo Ran's grace.

Mo Ran walked faster to match his shizun's pace, still smiling brightly.

If Shi Mei was the pure white moonlight of his heart, then Chu Wanning was the piece of fish bone stuck in his throat. He would pull it out and crush it, or swallow it and let it be dissolved by his stomach acid. In this reborn life, he could forgive anyone.

But he would absolutely never forgive Chu Wanning.

However, it seemed that Chu Wanning had no intentions of letting him off easy either. Mo Ran stood before the library of Red Lotus Hell, staring at the fifty bookshelves, each ten shelves high, and thought that he had surely misheard.

"Shizun, what…did you say?"

Chu Wanning answered indifferently, "Wipe every book in here."

Mo Ran had no words.

"Once you're done, catalogue them."

Still no words.

"I will be checking them in the morning."

Mo Ran stared.

What the hell! Was he going to be stuck in Red Lotus Hell overnight?! But he'd made plans to meet Shi Mei to get him to change his bandages!

Mo Ran opened his mouth to bargain, but Chu Wanning paid him no heed and turned around with a sweep of his sleeves to leave for the machinery workshop. He even closed the door behind him with elegant indifference.

Date night summarily dashed, Mo Ran sunk deeply into his feelings of disdain for Chu Wanning. He wanted to burn all of Chu Wanning's books.

Wait! The gears in his head turned as he came up with an even more ruinous idea…