Chapter 113: Shizun, Imprisoned

The largest courtyard on the east side was indeed what Rong Jiu said it would be, with three floors in all, room after room. It was the grandest sector, but also the dirtiest and messiest. An old tree drooped by the entrance to the courtyard, and on it sat countless dead crows, each holding a madly-spinning eyeball between its beak that surveyed the surroundings for anything out of the ordinary.

Two small groups of patrolling ghost soldiers stomped back and forth,

guarding the "tributes" that were to be given to the Fourth Ghost King in offering.

Mo Ran hid himself behind a corner, observing the route taken by the ghosts while sizing up the blind spots around the building.

All the lights were on in those small, compartment-like rooms. From time to time, the ghosts inside could be heard weeping or sighing, the sounds mingling and overlapping in the night like an eerie elegy echoed from ancient times,

making hairs stand on end.

There were upwards of three hundred rooms in there, and the patrol came around every ten minutes. There was no way he was going to be able to so easily find Chu Wanning in ten minutes, not to mention every floor had a guard by the stairs armed with soul-shattering whips and wearing emergency signal whistles around their necks.

Mo Ran was fretting anxiously when he spotted a lone ghost approaching from the distance. He was dressed in the same uniform as those guards, with a red-on-black token hanging from his waist. Mo Ran scooted a little more into the shadowed area and watched as he walked past right in front of him, coming to a stop at the foot of the stairs.

    The ghost exchanged nods with the guard at the stairs. The night was very quiet, so Mo Ran could easily eavesdrop on their conversation.

"Qi-ge, you here to relieve Lao-San?" "Mhm. You're almost done your shift too, right?" "I'm still waiting for next shift's guy to come, I'm off as soon as he gets here." The ghost soldier here to take up his shift went up the stairs. The guard on the first floor yawned in boredom and continued to watch his post in the howling wind.

Seeing this exchange, Mo Ran was suddenly struck by a somewhat risky idea...

From the distance came three sounds of impact: whack slam thud.

"Caw——caw——" screeched the crows on the branch, like they had seen something out of the norm.

The guard at the entrance snapped to alertness. Looking around, he saw in the thin layer of hazy fog, the silhouette of someone slowly approaching.

Once closer, it turned out to be a young man he had never seen before. The guard grew even more wary.

"Who are you?" "I'm here to relieve you," the person said.

The red clouds overhead drifted past, the bright moon above peeking out to illuminate his face—and what a handsome ghost soldier he was.

His facial features were straight and even, charming and naturally expressive. This "ghost" that came to change shifts was none other than Mo Ran.

He was decked out in a set of the ghost soldiers' armored uniform that he had acquired from god-knows-where, complete with a black-red token swaying at his waist and an emergency whistle dangling by his chest, reflecting a cold silvery light.

"I've never seen you before." The guard challenged.

"I'm new." The guard put out a hand, unconvinced. "Token?" Mo Ran untied the token from his waist and handed it over, his expression even and unperturbed despite how tense he actually was inside.

Luckily the guard found nothing strange even after looking the token over several times, front and back, and didn't feel like pressing the matter further, so he clapped him on the shoulder and said, "Then we'll be counting on you for the rest of the night. I'm off." "Have a safe trip home, Senior." The ghost cackled a bit, quite pleased by the form of address, and waved his hand. "Good lad, I'll see you around." "Ah… Senior, one moment please!" "What is it?" The guard turned to look over his shoulder.

Mo Ran grinned and very casually asked, "How many of the tributes in this batch have the surname Chu?"   The guard countered cautiously, "Why do you ask?"   "Just asking around for Sir Chu of Tailwind Hall," Mo Ran said. "He had a distant relative come down here recently, but Tailwind Hall couldn't find him, so he was wondering if he might be here."   Chu Xun's name carried some weight around these parts as expected; the guard hesitated a bit, but then pointed toward the second floor. "There are three people named Chu in the three innermost rooms up there. You can go take a look." Mo Ran smiled brightly and said, "Many thanks for the tip, Senior." "You're welcome." Senior was dumb as fuck. "Matter of course."   That settled, the guard wandered off leisurely, humming a light little tune as he went. He strolled right past the corner without noticing his actual comrade,

the one that was supposed to take the next shift, who had been tied up with a binding spell and tossed into a ditch. That poor ghost had been stripped of all his armor and left in only the thin layer of his inner garments. He glared furiously, but was well and thoroughly gagged so that he couldn't make so much as a single sound, and could do nothing but fume uselessly.

Mo Ran didn't trust Rong Jiu to not try and pull something; the unpicked "tributes" were kept collectively in the side palace with only a blocking barrier outside and no guard, but there might still be patrols. With how much Rong Jiu hates him, he'd definitely tell on him if a patrol were to pass by.

There was no time to lose, he had to go fast.

Mo Ran stood there for a while and waited for a group of the walking patrols to pass by, then immediately turned and rushed up to the second floor. The guard on the second floor blocked Mo Ran off with his pike.

"Halt. What are you here for?"

"It's my first day as a guard here, on the first floor." The guard furrowed his brows. "Then go to the first floor, what're you doing on my floor?"   Mo Ran tried to use Chu Xun as a stepping stone again, but this guard wasn't buying it, and snapped sternly, "So what if it's Tailwind Hall's Sir Chu?

Once a person's in this here palace, they belong to the Fourth King. If he wants to rescue his relative, he can go talk to the Fourth King himself, keep me out of it!" Mo Ran grumbled mentally; this guy seemed to be smarter than the one downstairs. But he could only put on a bold front and say, "It's not like I'm gonna take him away today, but at least let me take a look and make sure I haven't got the wrong person?" "That's easy. Give me the name and I'll look it up, no need for you to go in." "..." Mo Ran was indescribably vexed, but pushed down his anger to say,

"Chu Wanning. His name is Chu Wanning."   The soldier was going to check in the roster, but he set the roster back down as soon as he heard this name.

Mo Ran grew worried at his reaction, asking, "What is it? What's the problem?"   "What's the problem?" The guard repeated his question with a sneer before continuing. "You sure don't know your place, new guy. The Fourth King came by earlier today to see the beauties, and he's sweet on this Chu-xianjun. If not for the fact that it hadn't yet been seven days for him, so his three souls aren't all here and he can't be taken to the Fourth Level of Hell just yet, he would've been given to the Ghost King this very night. You want him? What do you think the problem is." Mo Ran's face was already blue halfway through, and he didn't speak until quite a while after the guard finished talking, "The Fourth Ghost King fancies him?" "So?" "...Nothing. Nevermind then, sorry to bother." Mo Ran turned around sullenly and took two steps down the stairs. Then, before the other could even react,

holy weapon Jiangui had appeared in his hand as he spun around and wrapped it tightly around the guard's neck!

Piercing scarlet flashed through the air.

Holy weapons could maim ghosts and gods alike; that guard only had time to see scarlet willow leaves fly past before his eyes and hear the newcomer say angrily, "What makes you think I wouldn't fight the Ghost King for him!" before he lost consciousness and crumpled to the floor.

Mo Ran lifted his hands and cast a spell to tie him up and seal his lips before kicking him to the side, then ran hurriedly toward the end of the hallway.

The three rooms at the end of the hall all held souls with the surname Chu.

Mo Ran wasn't sure how, but he seemed to know in his heart, so much so that even he himself didn't stop to wonder just why he had such a peculiar feeling before he pushed the door open. He stood in front of the second room,

slightly out of breath from how fast he ran.

He panted; a strand of inky black hair fell in front of his eyes, but he paid it no mind, eyes fixed inside the room—— Everything was just as Rong Jiu said.

It was a small room the size of an animal cage, with drab, ashen walls the color of death.

But the person inside seemed so very warm, like a flame in the cold, endless white.

Not every "tribute" was tied up, or at least Chu Wanning wasn't. Maybe because the Fourth King already had his sights set on him and the guards didn't dare displease him, but there was even a snow-white animal pelt on the floor,

thick and soft like a layer of fresh snow in the depth of winter.

Chu Wanning was asleep on the fur rug. He was the kind of person who appeared resolute and undaunted, but was, truthfully, always a little uneasy deep inside. This manifested itself most evidently in his sleep—he always slept curled up, shrinking into himself to be smaller.

As if he was trying to keep himself warm, but also as if he was afraid of taking up someone else's space. Like this, he looked frail and a little pitiful.

This soul wasn't like the Human Soul; there were no bloodstains on his handsome face, and the clothes he wore were different too. He was dressed in vibrant red silks the color of sunset, loose-fitting with broad sleeves, and richly patterned with the imagery of coiling dragon and soaring phoenix, of dancing golden butterflies.

Mo Ran practically stumbled forward, dropping to his knees next to Chu Wanning and reaching out with trembling hands to caress his face.

"Wanning…" The utterance that slipped out wasn't Shizun, but the name he had called him by during those final days of his past life.

Those twisted days of hatred and entanglement, suffused into his very being.

He lifted Chu Wanning into his arms, but it was a while before the drowsy man awakened.

When Chu Wanning opened his eyes, he found himself lying in Mo Ran's embrace. The look of concern on the young man's face, on those features that had yet to fully mature, was an expression the likes of which he'd never seen before. He furrowed his brows, thinking that perhaps this was some kind of dream, and after a moment, sighed and closed his eyes once more.

"Shizun!" Someone called by his ear.

It wasn't "Wanning" this time.

"Shizun! Shizun!"   Chu Wanning's phoenix eyes shot open, and although his expression didn't really change, he was betrayed by the minute trembling of his fingertips.

In the next instant, Mo Ran took hold of his hand and pressed it against his own face, laughing and crying at the same time until his handsome features were a sorry-looking mess.

"Shizun," he choked back a sob as he gazed unblinkingly at him, repeating the word over and over like he had forgotten how to say anything else,

"Shizun…" Chu Wanning finally came back to his senses where he was clutched tightly in Mo Ran's arms. Subconsciously feeling that it was improper, he struggled free of Mo Ran and sat up to glare at him.

He stared blankly for a long while without a single word.

Then suddenly flew into a rage.

Before Mo Ran could even react, Chu Wanning had already jerked his hand away and turned to land a backhanded slap to his face, scowling furiously.

"You idiot! How did you die too?!"   Mo Ran opened his mouth and was just about to explain when he saw, in the haziness of the moonlight, that beneath all that anger, the eyes under Chu Wanning's long lashes were subdued and sorrowful, as if unresigned, as if there was a teariness there that might shatter at the slightest touch. He bit down hard on his lower lip when he finished cursing, forcefully holding back the shameful,

humiliating tightness in his throat.

There were those who would flaunt the tiniest cut, make sure everyone knew they'd been injured.

And then there were those who were too proud to say, who would rather swallow their grievance and suffering, even if it ripped their throats bloody, than to speak a word of it.

He never said, so Mo Ran never knew before.

But his heart ached terribly now that he knew.

He wanted to hold Chu Wanning.

But Chu Wanning pushed him away, voice hoarse as he said, "Get the hell out." Chu Wanning turned his face away, hiding a thousand layers of heartbreak under a single layer of stiff coldness.

"You have some nerve, coming to see me after dying so young." "Shizun…" "Out." Chu Wanning's face turned away even more. "You're no disciple of mine, I don't take anyone so useless as to end up dead in his prime." Dead in his prime…

Mo Ran had originally been feeling dejected, but after being reprimanded by him all seriously like this, he suddenly felt warmth flood his heart like the trickling of spring waters. He raised a hand and clapped his forehead before sliding it down to cover his eyes, and then, unable to help himself, started laughing in a mixture of bitter and sweet and sour.

Chu Wanning grew even angrier at the light sound of his laughter, whipping his head around to chide sternly, "What're you laughing about, you——" He made to slap Mo Ran again in a fit of rage, but Mo Ran caught his hand.

The young man's gentle eyes blinked, slowly, and then, without saying anything, he solemnly brought Chu Wanning's hand to press against his own chest.

Author's Notes:

The big white cat that is finally released: [thanking jjwxc readers] The rescue canine that failed the passing criteria: [thanking jjwxc readers]