Chapter 130: Shizun, I’ve Crossed Five Years to Come See You

Chu Wanning's breathing was a little heavy, his throat a little dry.

He refused to give in so readily and elected instead to be difficult. Holding

down the fire raging in his chest, he asked, mild as ever, "For as long as you

live?"

"For as long as I live."

"I might walk very fast, with no regard for you."

"That's all right, I'll chase after you."

"I might not want to walk anymore and just stand there."

"Then I'll stand with Shizun."

Agitated by his unfaltering answers, Chu Wanning flicked his sleeves

and said, "Then what if I can't walk anymore?"

"I'll carry you."

Chu Wanning looked affronted. Mo Ran paused, realizing this might

have been a little disrespectful—rude even. Eyes widening, he frantically

waved his hand and amended, "I'll carry you on my back."

Chu Wanning's heart beat faster and faster, and it took every ounce of

his self-control to resist the urge to help this man up, to touch him. He

furrowed his brow at this impulse, looking anxious and a bit cross. "Who

wants to be carried by you."

Mo Ran opened his mouth but didn't know what to say. His shizun

was always difficult like this—neither wanting to be carried on his back nor

in his arms. It wasn't like he could hoist him over his head, and he certainly

couldn't drag him on the ground. He felt like he was too dumb to work out

how to make Chu Wanning happy. At a loss, he hung his head like an

abandoned stray dog. He muttered in a small voice, "Then I'll stop walking

too."

Chu Wanning didn't know what to say.

"If you want to get rained on, then I'll keep you company in the rain

too."

Chu Wanning was at his wit's end from this relentless onslaught. He

was so used to doing everything himself that he blurted without thinking, "I

don't want your company."

Mo Ran finally fell silent. From where he stood, Chu Wanning could

only see his broad forehead, dark eyebrows, and those long lashes, now

downcast and quivering, like curtains rising and falling in the wind.

"Shizun…" Mo Ran misunderstood the feelings behind Chu

Wanning's agitated refusal. He asked, "Are you still mad at me…?"

Helplessly drowning in the pounding of his own heart, Chu Wanning

didn't quite catch his question. "What?"

"Back in the underworld, I already apologized to Shizun many, many

times, but I know it's not enough. I spent every moment of these past five

years feeling guilty. I know I owe you."

Chu Wanning was rendered speechless.

"I want to do better—so that I won't feel too dirty to stand before

you, so that I'll be able to lift my head in front of you at least. But I…I can't

catch up to you. Every day when I wake up, I worry that I'm dreaming, that

you'll be gone if I wake from the dream. I keep hearing the words you said

at Jincheng Lake, that the most wonderful dreams are rarely ever true, and

then I just… I just get so upset…"

Mo Ran's voice grew rough. He still had more to say, but he didn't

want to say it. He felt he had no right to talk about these things in front of

Chu Wanning, didn't have the heart to tell Chu Wanning all that had

happened in these last five years.

Sometimes…all alone in Snow Valley, he couldn't tell what day it

was, or even where he was. He'd prick himself with a needle then, again

and again between the joints of his fingers. It hurt, but that was how he

knew he was still conscious, still alive. That was how he knew he wasn't

still in his previous life, dreaming. That when he woke up it wouldn't be to

a Sisheng Peak stripped of all familiarity, a Xue Meng with eyes full of hate,

and a Rufeng Sect that had been razed to the ground. That if he were to go

to Red Lotus Pavilion, he wouldn't find Chu Wanning lying there, looking

as if he were still alive.

As if he were still alive. As if he were still alive.

What words could hurt more than these?

It was strange, now that he thought about it—when he'd learned Chu

Wanning had died to save him, and when he'd gone down to the underworld

to seek his souls, Mo Ran's heart had ached. But it had been nothing like the

kind of irrepressible despair he felt now. As time wore on, day after day, as

it came closer and closer to the moment of Chu Wanning's awakening, the

pain only worsened, as if a knife were cutting into his heart.

Perhaps it was because he'd had too much time to think in those days

he spent alone. Perhaps it was because he had tried, in that time without

Chu Wanning, so desperately—even hysterically—to imitate that person, to

the point he wanted to tear himself entirely apart and reassemble the

fragments into Chu Wanning's form.

Whatever the reason, many things that he had never really paid

attention to or thought about, things that he had gradually forgotten, had all

resurfaced in his mind. Those memories of the bygone past were like

waterlogged shoals exposed in the wake of the retreating tide. He stood

alone at the shore, but the waves were already gone.

He could see it so clearly now. A scene from his past life, surrounded

by the beacons of war on all sides, at the end of the line. Xue Meng had

come to Sisheng Peak, and in a Wushan Palace changed beyond

recognition, Xue Meng had interrogated him with tears in his eyes.

Demanded to know why had he done this to his own shizun. Xue Meng had

tried to force him then, force him to turn back before death. He had said:

No, Mo Ran. Think about it. Let go of your vicious hatred and look

back properly. He once trained you in cultivation and martial arts, trained

you in the art of self-defense. He once taught you how to read and write,

taught you poetry and painting. He once learned how to cook just for you,

even though he was so clumsy and got cuts all over his hands.

He once… He once waited every day for you to come home, all alone

by himself, from nightfall…till the break of dawn…

Back then, Mo Ran hadn't listened. He'd refused to look. Now he

stood on the shores of fate, where the tide had receded, and when he looked

down, there was a lost heart under his foot, a heart that had once been so

good to him, so genuine to him that it had nearly driven itself to death. But

he had been so set in his ways that he had seen none of that as he'd trod

upon it—as he had trod upon Chu Wanning's own heart.

A chill ran down Mo Ran's spine whenever he thought of it. What had

he done… What had he done? Two lifetimes, sixteen years; had he ever

repaid Chu Wanning's kindness? Had he ever, even just for one day, put

Chu Wanning first in his heart?!

Damned beast! Had his heart then been made of stone? How else

could it not have hurt?!

How many times in these past five years had he dreamt of Chu

Wanning's return, in robes white as snow, looking just as he'd used to?

When he woke, he'd find the pillow wet. And every single day he would

say, Chu Wanning, Shizun, I'm sorry, I was wrong, I was wrong. And every

day the recital lessened his guilt exactly none.

Later, when Mo Ran saw the blooming flowers of spring, he would

think of him, and when he saw the falling snows of winter, he would think

of him as well.

Later, every daybreak was golden like Chu Wanning's soul. Every

nightfall was dark like Chu Wanning's eyes. Later, every beam of white

moonlight was like the snow of his sleeves, every rising sun was like the

warmth in his eyes. Later, he'd see Chu Wanning's silhouette in the

vermilion clouds on the horizon, in the cerulean light of dawn, in the

surging, billowing clouds overhead. He was everywhere.

Propelled by this anguish and yearning, he'd gradually felt his

resentment over his low birth fade, gradually felt his near-fanatical

adoration of Shi Mei begin to cool.

One day, outside Snow Valley, he had seen a snow-covered winter

jasmine growing out of a crack in a wall. He had gazed at it quietly for a

while, thinking, as he always did: Ah, what a pretty flower. Shizun would

definitely like it if he could see.

It had been such a cursory thought about the simplest, most casual

and unimportant little thing. But between one breath and the next, all the

sorrows that hadn't managed to drive him out of his mind and force him to

his knees back when Chu Wanning died suddenly rushed over him. The

saying went that a thousand-mile-long levee could be destroyed by the

tunneling of ants; at that moment, Mo Ran broke down all at once. He

bawled miserably, startling geese into flight from the depths of the valley.

His cries were hoarse and ugly, a disgrace to the golden flower that was

blooming against the snow.

It had been five years. Yet he had never once forgiven himself.

"Shizun…sorry… I really tried my best to make it back in time today;

I even had a present for you so that I wouldn't come empty-handed…"

The assumed composure finally dissipated; the feigned ease finally

collapsed. Kneeling before Chu Wanning, Mo Ran finally fell apart. In

truth, it was only in front of Chu Wanning that the Mo Ran of today would

let himself fall to pieces like this.

"I'm…still really stupid. I couldn't even manage the first thing I

promised you after your revival. It's my fault."

Chu Wanning could hardly bear to look at him like this. He had

always adored Mo Ran, and now that they had finally been reunited after

such a long time, he didn't have the heart to see him so miserable. But when

he heard Mo Ran's words, Chu Wanning hesitated before asking, "Why

didn't you get back in time today?"

"There actually…was enough time to make it back. But I ran into

some fiends making trouble at Butterfly Town, so I…"

"Got held up clearing them out?"

"Sorry." Mo Ran stared at the ground. "Not only did I get held up,

even the present I prepared for Shizun was destroyed…and I also got blood

all over me, so I rushed here to wash it off, only to…"

Chu Wanning could feel his heart going soft.

Mo-zongshi.

Mo Ran was indeed nothing like he had been five years ago. The

Mo Ran of five years ago had been a selfish brat, but now he understood the

weight of things. Chu Wanning didn't care all that much for trifles like

festivities and gifts—in fact, if Mo Ran had seen the demon problem in

Butterfly Town and chosen to ignore it, Chu Wanning would've been

furious with him. But as he gazed at this man kneeling before him, all

honesty and clumsiness as he begged his forgiveness, Chu Wanning instead

found him to be so dumb it was rather cute.

He took a slow step forward, a warm feeling suffusing his heart. He

reached out and was just about to help Mo Ran up when he heard him

mutter, "Shizun, please don't kick me out of the sect."

Now it was Chu Wanning's turn to be taken aback. He didn't know

the depth of Mo Ran's guilt and remorse, so he hadn't expected Mo Ran to

say any such thing. Hesitant, he began, "What…"

"Even if you don't want me to stay with you or chase after you when

it rains; even if you don't want me to carry you—even if you don't want

any of that, even then, please don't kick me out."

Mo Ran finally lifted his head. Chu Wanning's heart trembled. He saw

the faint redness in the rims of his eyes, and the way they were a little wet.

Chu Wanning was ordinarily firm and decisive, but now he found himself

adrift. "You… You're twenty-two already, why are you still…" He paused

and huffed out a long sigh. "First, get up."

Lifting an arm to rub forcefully at his eyes, Mo Ran said stubbornly,

"I'm not getting up if Shizun doesn't want me."

Still a scoundrel all right!

Chu Wanning could feel a headache coming on. Lips pressed into a

thin line, he grabbed Mo Ran by the wrist and hauled him up. But the

moment the tips of his fingers made contact, all he could feel was the

strength in his muscles and the heat of his skin. The firm body of this young

man was nothing like that of his adolescent self. One touch made Chu

Wanning's heart pound right out of his chest, and he let go at once, caught

off guard. Mo Ran was fortunately too distraught to notice Chu Wanning's

strange behavior. But Chu Wanning stared at his own hand in disbelief as

bewilderment raged within him.

Just what was wrong with him? Had the five years of slumber undone

every bit of his asceticism and reserve? He glanced up at Mo Ran in

astonishment. Or was it because the person in front of him had really

changed so much that it was hard for him to control himself?

Mo Ran worried his lip for a spell, then seemed to make up his mind

to be obstinate—so obstinate he couldn't even be kicked out. "Please don't

make me leave, Shizun." He made to kneel back down.

How could Chu Wanning possibly risk helping him up a second time?

He hastily stopped him with a stern, "Don't you kneel again! I'll really toss

you out if you do!"

Mo Ran paused and blinked. He suddenly figured it out. Eyes lighting

up, he said, "Shizun, you aren't blaming me… You're not mad 'cause I

didn't make it back for the banquet? You…"

"Have I ever been that petty?" Chu Wanning snapped.

In his excitement, Mo Ran tried to go in for a hug. Chu Wanning was

startled to say the least, taking a quick step back and chiding with a frown,

"What do you think you're doing? Where's your propriety?"

"Ah." Realizing his mistake, Mo Ran rushed to apologize, "Sorry,

sorry, I forgot myself for a minute."

Try as he might to remain cool, the tips of Chu Wanning's ears were

bright red. "Already in your twenties and still don't know your manners."

The tips of Mo Ran's ears turned red as well. He mumbled, "It's my

fault."

It's my fault was practically his catchphrase at this point. Hearing it

again, Chu Wanning felt a little of a lot of things: mad, amused, pitying,

warm. Lashes flicking up, he secretly stole another glance at Mo Ran from

the corner of his eye. There stood a tall, handsome man with sun-kissed

skin. Perhaps it was due to the lingering steam of the hot springs, or perhaps

something else altogether, that his cheeks were a little flushed and warm.

He practically seemed to glow with the vibrancy of youth, so much so that

it dissipated the steam in the air and made that pair of dark, shining eyes

seem all the brighter.

Chu Wanning felt his own heart thud against his ribcage, and the tips

of his fingers felt as though they were on fire again, like they had earlier

when he touched Mo Ran. His throat was suddenly awfully dry, and he

didn't look at Mo Ran again as he muttered, "Idiot," and turned to leave.

But the barrier above him didn't even wobble. Mo Ran really did

chase after him, just as he promised.

Chu Wanning lowered his gaze and didn't dare look back, too aware

that he could no longer hide the love and desire in his eyes, in the same way

it was impossible to mask the burning at his fingertips.

Mo Ran had finally ruined him. This man had done everything that

the Mo Ran of five years ago couldn't; he had taken his heart and drowned

it in the ocean of desires.

 Henceforth, Chu Wanning would be as a mere

mortal, possessed of a body of flesh and a soul defenseless against desire,

trapped in the web, unable to escape.