Chapter 129: Shizun, Do You Like What You See?

In that split second, chaos swam in Chu Wanning's head like the

churning of the seas, the lashing of torrential rains, the booming of thunder,

the flashing of lightning, the darkening of clouds.

To take them off or to keep them on—a most dire question. Keeping

them on seemed inappropriate, now that he knew he had put on the wrong

clothes. And it wasn't like he could pretend he hadn't heard what Mo Ran

said.

Taking them off…?

He couldn't possibly handle the embarrassment of taking off the

clothes he'd finally put on, piece by piece, with Mo Ran right there.

A few moments passed in an awkward silence. Mo Ran said at last,

"But I've washed those clothes quite thoroughly. They're very clean, so if

Shizun doesn't mind, then…please feel free to wear them."

"Mn."

Mo Ran let out a breath of relief. He'd always been a bit slow on the

uptake. He hadn't realized until after he'd spoken that revealing the truth

when Chu Wanning was already mostly dressed would be nothing short of

forcing his shizun to strip in front of him. He was singed by the mere spark

of that mental image, and his face burned redder. Luckily, he'd roamed far

and wide these last couple years and was no longer so tender-skinned as he

had been. The blush wasn't as noticeable on his cheeks tanned the golden of

wheat. But his heartbeats felt too loud by half, and his conscience heaved

with fear and guilt that Chu Wanning would hear. He hurriedly bowed his

head and made to pick up Chu Wanning's robes to clothe himself.

After both were dressed, they looked at each other again, only to fall

into a different kind of awkward silence.

The clothes didn't fit.

Chu Wanning's robes were clearly too small for Mo Ran. They didn't

even overlap in the front, leaving exposed a large expanse of firm, honey-

colored chest. And too short, as well: the way half his legs were left

uncovered like he was flat broke was admittedly a sorry look.

Chu Wanning fared no better: Mo Ran's robes draped over him,

covering him from neck to toe and pooling on the ground to trail behind

him like a wisp of white mist. It looked fine and proper, but it also made

obvious how much shorter he was than Mo Ran now. Chu Wanning felt

rather affronted. Face sullen, he said, "Leaving"—meaning, I'm leaving.

But Mo Ran misunderstood and thought he was inviting him to leave

together. Thus he nodded and picked up his shizun's wooden washtub and

change of clothes, earnestly following him.

The two reached the entrance of the baths and lifted the curtain.

Outside, away from the hot springs, it was considerably cooler, and Chu

Wanning shivered in the autumn chill despite himself. When Mo Ran

noticed, he asked, "Are you cold?"

"No."

But how could Mo Ran not know by now that this was merely his

pride speaking? He said with a smile, "Well I'm a little cold," and lifted a

hand in a practiced gesture. With a flourish, a scarlet glow sprang from his

palm to form a cold-warding barrier around the pair of them. The barrier

was beautiful, its radiance shimmering and flowing, with a scatter of flower

motifs at the top.

Face unreadable, Chu Wanning glanced up at it. "Not bad. You've

improved."

"I'm still nowhere near a match for Shizun."

"You're not far off. My cold-warding barriers are probably no better

than this." Chu Wanning gazed at the barrier, and, noticing the faint

flowers, commented, "The peach blossoms are a nice touch."

"They're haitang blossoms."

Chu Wanning's heart trembled, sending ripples refracting through the

depths of his eyes.

Mo Ran continued, "Five petals."

For a moment, Chu Wanning was stunned, then couldn't help the puff

of laughter that escaped as he tried instinctively to hide the quivering in his

eyes with feigned nonchalance. In a slightly mocking tone he said,

"Copying me now, are we?"

But to his surprise, Mo Ran only looked at him guilelessly and

nodded in response. "It's a poor imitation, I'm afraid."

Chu Wanning was left rather speechless.

They walked side by side in silence for a while before Chu Wanning

picked up his pace; he didn't want to be right next to him like this. Behind

him, Mo Ran suddenly asked, "Shizun, are you…mad I didn't make it back

in time for the banquet?"

"No."

"Really?"

"Why would I bother lying?"

"Then why are you walking so fast?"

Of course Chu Wanning wasn't going to say, Because you're too tall.

He was silent for a moment, then looked up at the sky and lied, "Because it

looks like it's going to rain."

As if he'd jinxed it, drops of rain presently started falling from the

overcast sky, pitter-pattering into a curtain.

Mo Ran smiled. His smile was every bit as lovely as it had been five

years ago, yet now more dazzling for its newfound sincerity. Chu Wanning

glared at him. "What's with that stupid grin?"

"Nothing." Mo Ran's dimples were deep and sweet. The young man,

tall and sturdy, returned his gaze with downcast lashes and a docile,

obedient demeanor devoid of arrogance. He was even a little bashful as he

said, "I'm just really happy to see Shizun again after so long."

In silence, Chu Wanning stared at him, at the dimples adorning his

cheeks. He had once thought those twin pools of sweetness would ever

belong to Shi Mingjing alone, but it turned out that wasn't so—to be

allowed a jar of that sweetness himself, all he had to do was give up his life.

"Dummy," Chu Wanning chided him.

Mo Ran let his long, soft lashes droop and grinned big and wide,

exactly like a dummy. But as he got a little carried away in the moment, he

accidentally trod on Chu Wanning's hem, which he'd been so careful to

avoid this whole time.

Chu Wanning, his expression stern, looked at the ground and then at

Mo Ran, but said nothing.

Mo Ran was very straightforward. "The clothes are a little big on

Shizun."

He sure knew what not to say.

Mo Ran walked Chu Wanning all the way back to the Red Lotus

Pavilion. In all honesty, Chu Wanning found it a rather strange experience.

It was always his way to come and go alone; he'd rarely ever had the

occasion to share an umbrella, be it of oilpaper or magic. So, halfway there,

he stopped and said, "I can do it myself, it's just a barrier."

Mo Ran was a little taken aback. "Wasn't it fine until now? So

why…"

"What kind of master makes their disciple hold the umbrella?"

There was a moment of silence. "But Shizun has done so much for

me," Mo Ran said, his voice low and quiet. "These last five years, I spent

every single day hoping to become just a little bit better. Shizun is so

capable and can do everything by himself, so I wanted to be able to do just

a little more than Shizun. That way I could be of use to Shizun, repay

Shizun. But even after all the training and studying I've done, I still feel no

closer to that goal. I'm afraid I might never be able to repay Shizun's

kindness. That's why…"

He bowed his head, hand unconsciously clenching into a fist at his

side. The rainwater gathered in streaming rivulets on the ground, droplets

splashing and rippling like blooming flowers. "That's why I ask that, from

now on, Shizun let me take care of the little things—like holding the

umbrella."

Chu Wanning said nothing, watching him quietly.

"I want to hold an umbrella over Shizun for as long as I live."

As he listened silently, Chu Wanning felt a burning in his chest. It was

such a heartwarming thing to hear, yet he found himself wanting to cry. He

was someone who had undergone so much suffering and braved it all; like a

traveler who had walked for too long and had finally found shelter where

they could lie down and rest. Even his bones felt like they might fall apart

as he collapsed.

For a lifetime.

Mo Ran was twenty-two this year. The saying went that time passed

differently once someone was past twenty. Before one was twenty, a mere

three or five years felt so long it could be called a lifetime. But past that,

time would feel like a racing current, everything surging past in a rush with

no return. Mo Ran was saying he would step out of the racing current to

hold an umbrella over him.

Chu Wanning had so rarely received kindness that this flood of

tenderness felt like pain instead. He studied Mo Ran, studied that person

standing with his head bowed, and said, "Mo Ran, look at me."

Mo Ran lifted his head.

"Say that again."

Mo Ran gazed at him. His face was still somewhat alien to Chu

Wanning; it was different from the one in his memories, and different from

the one in those absurd dreams he'd once had. This face was gentle,

composed, and steadfast, bearing both the warmth of fire and the firmness

of iron as he met Chu Wanning's eyes with neither hesitation nor avoidance.

When Chu Wanning had looked at Mo Ran for the last time five years

ago, he had yet been a growing boy. In a blink, he had grown into the

handsome, confident man before him. A man who was dropping to one

knee, looking up at him, and saying, "Shizun, I want to hold an umbrella

over you for as long as I live."

Chu Wanning stared at him in a daze: at those dark eyebrows and that

shapely jawline, at those bright eyes and that straight nose. He had grown

into an impressive pine tree, matching Chu Wanning's height before

overtaking him. One day, the tree that was Chu Wanning, which had stood

in the wind and rain for so long, woke up, blinked, and found that the rain

had ceased, the clouds had dispersed, and in the soft light of the sun, there

was another tree standing beside him, even taller and steadier than he.

When the wind rustled through its leaves, the sunlight filtered through like

gold dust.

This tree said he wanted to stand by his side for a lifetime, until they

both fell over, branches bare and withered. But with every season that

passed until then, he would never again be alone.

As he stared, Chu Wanning was struck with the realization that

Mo Ran was no longer the bloodied, unconscious disciple he had carried

back from Butterfly Town five years ago. Standing there in the rain, under

the haitang blossoms dancing atop the barrier, he seemed to see Mo Ran for

the first time, studying him thoroughly and carefully, looking at this man

who was promising him a lifetime.

Chu Wanning's heart began to race. He suddenly noticed how alluring

Mo Ran looked now, from the line of his nose to the shape of his lips, from

the curve of his jaw to the jut of his throat.

What he had felt for Mo Ran before was only love, which could be

kept hidden. But right now, this man felt like nothing short of a fire to him,

a fire that could too easily set him ablaze like he was mere kindling,

sending flames soaring up to scorch the skies. Magma that had lain dormant

all this time stirred awake and stretched its limbs in the abyss deep within

himself, ready to burst in a violent eruption at any time. It threatened to

burn through all the reservations, dignity, and restraint on which he had

always prided himself…

Threatened to burn it all to ash, until there was nothing left.