Chapter 138: Shizun Just Might Blue-Ball Me to Death

Chu Wanning directed a mild glance at Mo Ran. "Some-one's

looking for you."

"Ah? Who could be looking for me at this hour?" Mo Ran, whose

mind was completely occupied by Chu Wanning, had long since forgotten

whatever had happened during the day with the villagers.

"It's the young lady who was singing earlier," Chu Wanning said in a

pointedly understated tone. "You know, the prettiest girl in the village."

"Eh, really…? All the girls in the village look more or less the same

to me…"

Chu Wanning was silent for a moment. "I was only gone for five

years. When did you go blind?"

Mo Ran blinked in surprise. Chu Wanning's tone was unchanged, but

when Mo Ran looked up, he caught a hint of a smile in Chu Wanning's

eyes, as if teasing him with good-humored banter. Pleasantly surprised,

Mo Ran felt his mood instantly lift.

Outside, the village girl named Ling-er was holding a bundle wrapped

in blue cloth with a white floral pattern, hollering as loud as she could at

Mo Ran's door, "Mo-xianjun, Mo—"

"I'm over here."

Ling-er turned at the sound of a man's deep voice behind her, only to

see Mo Ran leaning in the doorway, lifting one side of the curtain and

smiling at her. "It's already so late; did you need something?"

Ling-er was momentarily startled, but her shock quickly melted into

delight. Happily, she went to him. "Good thing Xianjun hasn't gone to bed

yet! Here, this is for you. I got it from my auntie, like I mentioned during

lunch earlier. P…please use it." She pushed the cloth bag she carried into

his arms as she spoke.

Mo Ran opened the bag and found three little clay jars. "What are

these?"

"Medicinal salve," Ling-er explained brightly, pointing at her own

cheek with a smile. "For your mosquito bite, in the field earlier…"

"Ah." Mo Ran finally remembered what this was all about. He found

himself a little abashed that the girl had so wholeheartedly believed his

offhand excuse and come all this way to give him the salve. The villagers

here were rather too gullible…

"You must've not gotten bit too badly though." Ling-er raised herself

up on tiptoe and gave Mo Ran's face a careful once-over, smiling even more

sunnily. "I don't even see a bump."

Mo Ran cleared his throat. "I am a cultivator, after all…"

Ling-er clapped her hands with a laugh. "You cultivators are so

interesting! If I had the talent for it, I'd want to become one too. Too bad

it's not in the stars for me."

They chatted a bit longer until Mo Ran thanked her and ducked back

inside with the salve. Chu Wanning had moved to the table and was flipping

idly through the book Mo Ran had abandoned. He looked up when he heard

Mo Ran come in.

"Medicinal salve," Mo Ran explained bashfully.

"Did you really get bit? Come here, let me see."

Under the candlelight, Mo Ran's skin was the deep amber of honey

candy, accentuating his dashing features. Chu Wanning stared for a while

before asking, "So…where's the bite?"

Mo Ran scratched his head, embarrassed. "It went down already; my

skin's thick." He set all three jars of the refreshing medicinal salve on Chu

Wanning's table as he spoke. "I don't need these. Shizun should hang onto

them instead since you're more likely to get bug bites."

Chu Wanning neither accepted nor declined. "First the herbal

ointment and now this medicinal salve… I'll have to open an apothecary at

this rate."

Mo Ran only rubbed at his handsome nose and beamed, quiet and

sincere. Chu Wanning reached out and poked at his forehead. "It's getting

late. Go back to your room and go to sleep."

"Mn. Sleep well, Shizun."

"Sleep well."

But that night, in those two run-down straw huts separated by that

small courtyard the width of ten steps, neither of the two found sleep.

Despite their exchanged wishes, both tossed and turned restlessly. Chu

Wanning could still feel the tingling in his feet, could practically still feel

Mo Ran's callused fingers rubbing against his skin. Mo Ran's thoughts were

rather more complicated. He shifted this way and that, head pillowed on his

arm while he tapped fitfully at the seam between the bed boards, repeating

over and over in his head: Shizun is a god, an immortal, an otherworldly

being; no matter what happened in the past life, I definitely won't do

anything stupid in this one; I definitely won't bully him, definitely won't

mess things up again…

And besides, there was still Shi Mei. Yes, he should think more about

Shi Mei instead—Shi Mei…

He suddenly felt doubly uneasy. The fact was, since returning to

Sisheng Peak and reuniting with Shi Mei, Mo Ran had found himself feeling

rather lukewarm toward him. To him, liking Shi Mei and protecting Shi Mei

had settled into a kind of habit, a thing that he consistently did—but to what

end? He still felt fond of the Shi Mei of five years ago, but the beautiful

man of today was like a stranger to him. This new unfamiliarity left him at

a loss; he didn't know what was wrong with him, or what he ought to do

about it.

Chu Wanning woke up early the next morning. When he stepped

outside, he came face-to-face with Mo Ran, who was lifting the curtain of

his own room.

"Good morning, Shizun," Mo Ran said.

"Morning." Chu Wanning glanced at him. "Didn't sleep well?"

Mo Ran summoned up a smile. "I'm not really used to the bed. It's all

right, I'll just take a nap later."

They set off toward the fields together, the early morning breeze

bringing the refreshing fragrance of grass and trees. It was quiet on their

walk over, the silence broken only by the occasional singing of frogs and

chirping of cicadas. Chu Wanning yawned languidly, then caught something

out of the corner of his eye that made him smile.

"Mo Ran."

"Mm?"

Chu Wanning reached over to brush through Mo Ran's bangs and

plucked a piece of straw from his hair. He said with a small smile, "What

were you doing, rolling around in bed? You've got straw in your hair."

Mo Ran was about to defend himself when he spotted a piece of straw

on the side of Chu Wanning's head as well. He also smiled and said, "Then

Shizun must've been rolling around too." And picked the golden straw off

Chu Wanning's hair.

As the sun crested the eastern horizon, master and disciple gazed at

each other against a backdrop of resplendent gold, one with his head

slightly lowered, the other with his head slightly tipped up, just the way

they had in the past. Except that, five years ago, the one looking down had

been Chu Wanning, and the one gazing up had been Mo Ran. But the years

had flown by, and Mo Weiyu was no longer a youth.

In this moment, it was as if time was finally willing to slow down. In

the light of that gentle dawn, Mo Ran jumped into the paddy field on

impulse, opening his arms and smiling at the man standing on the raised

ridge. "Shizun, jump. I'll catch you."

Chu Wanning eyed the drop from the ridge to the field. It was only

waist high. "Is something wrong with your head?"

"Ha ha ha."

He took off his shoes and gracefully hopped down into the paddy

field himself, sending a ripple through the water and a chill up through the

bottom of his feet. With a grand sweep of one broad sleeve and an air of

imposing dignity, Chu Wanning claimed a large stretch of the field for

himself. "This whole area is mine. I didn't cut as much as you yesterday,

but today I fully intend to beat you."

Mo Ran's outstretched arms went instead to scratch his head. The

corners of his lips quirked up and an especially charming smile spread

across his face. "Okay. If I lose, I'll make Shizun lots and lots of lotus crisp

and lots and lots of stewed crab meatballs."

"And lots and lots of honey-glazed sweet lotus root too." Chu

Wanning added.

"Sure thing. But what if Shizun loses?" Mo Ran's eyes were clear and

bright, like they enclosed the entire starry sky. "Then what?"

Chu Wanning shot him a cool sidelong glance. "What do you want?"

Mo Ran mulled it over for some time, chewing on his bottom lip.

Finally, he said, "If Shizun loses, Shizun will have to eat all the lotus crisp

and stewed crab meatballs I make." A pause. And then, in an even gentler

tone, carried on the refreshing breeze: "And all the honey-glazed sweet

lotus root too."

Win or lose, I just want an excuse to treat you well.

In this short interval, Chu Wanning had gotten quite adept at

harvesting rice—and he did not like to lose. It was enough that he had been

laughed at yesterday; he was not going to be the butt of jokes today too.

Huffily thinking thus, he worked with singular diligence, slicing away at the

stalks, and by midday he'd cut down a good deal more than Mo Ran. He felt

rather proud of himself as they took their lunch under the mulberry tree. He

didn't say it, nor did it show on his face, but his eyes kept wandering over

to the side of the paddy field, where the rice he'd harvested was stacked

into a formidable little mountain of gold.

Everyone sat together to eat. Mo Ran ate without pause, and his bowl

was clean in no time. Noticing his empty bowl, the auntie was quick to

speak up: "Ling-er, go get Xianjun another helping of rice."

But Mo Ran set down his bowl and chopsticks like he was in a hurry.

He flashed a smile and said, "That's all right, I'm done. I have something to

take care of, so I'm gonna run out for a bit. It might take a while, so go

ahead and finish eating without me."

Ling-er was taken by surprise, which turned into unease. "Does

Xianjun really eat so little? Is the food not to your taste? If you don't like

it…I could…go make something else for you?"

"No, no, that's not it. The food's great." Of course Mo Ran was

completely oblivious to the overtones of the girl's offer. He brushed her off

with a forthright grin and took off toward the stable with large strides.

"Where are you going?" Chu Wanning asked.

Mo Ran looked back over his shoulder with a smile. "Just a little

shopping. I'll be right back."

"Xianjun—"

"It's fine, let him be," Chu Wanning said mildly as he closed his

chopsticks around another piece of fried tofu.

Although the two cultivators had arrived together, anyone with eyes

could see who had the higher status and who the lower, and whose word

counted. Moreover, Chu Wanning's naturally cold and severe features made

it difficult for the villagers to press the matter once he'd spoken. They could

only let Mo Ran go.

After lunch, everyone split into small groups, some passing the time

by chewing tobacco, some napping in the sunshine. The women sat together

knitting winter clothes while the children played, riding on bamboo-stick

horses. A rail-thin cat sniffed hopefully at the ground, its little pink nose

twitching and ears perked, looking for leftovers to eat.

Chu Wanning was resting against a pile of grain with a cup of warm

tea when he saw the pitifully skinny cat. He raised a hand to entice it over,

thinking to find it something to eat. But the cat was wary of strangers. It

thought that Chu Wanning had raised his hand to hit it and fled

immediately.

Chu Wanning stared after it mutely. Did he really look so scary? Even

cats didn't like him?

As he sulked with cheek in hand, he heard the jingling of copper

pieces. Ling-er came over cheerfully, also holding a cup of tea, and sat

down beside Chu Wanning.

He turned to look at her with an impassive expression. This girl was

very pretty, and on top of that, she wasn't skinny or frail, but the kind of

full-figured woman rarely found in such remote and desolate places. She

knew how to dress herself, too—she hadn't any money to buy accessories,

so she'd gathered some bits of copper and iron, then cleaned them and

ground them into smooth rings to string along the hem of her clothing, so

that she jingled as she walked and gleamed under the sun.

"Xianjun," she called, with a voice that was crisp as a ripened berry.

"What is it?" Chu Wanning's voice was cool and clear as drifting

mist.

Ling-er was a bit taken aback by his standoffishness. But she quickly

put on a smile as if he had been perfectly amicable and said, "Nothing. I

just saw you sitting by yourself and thought I'd come over and keep you

company."

Chu Wanning eyed her. He knew he didn't have a friendly-looking

face; not even the cat wanted to get close to him. Yet people and cats were

different, after all—cats had no schemes, but people might have ulterior

motives.

Sure enough, after a cascade of chatter full of empty pleasantries and

trifling nonsense, Ling-er threw out her real question casually: "Xianjun,

what does it take to become…a disciple at Sisheng Peak? Do you think…I

have a chance?"

"Give me your hand," said Chu Wanning.

"Ah…" Her eyes widened and she excitedly did as she was told. Chu

Wanning pressed the tips of his fingers lightly against the inside of her

wrist. After a moment, he drew back. "You do not."

Ling-er's face instantly flushed red. "D-do I not have the aptitude?"

"You knew I was going to check your core as soon as I asked for your

hand, so you must've already had someone check for you in the past," Chu

Wanning said. "You don't have the aptitude for cultivation, and you will

likely be unable to build the foundation for it, even if you spend your whole

life trying. It would only be a waste of time were you to go to the peak. I'd

suggest forgetting about it."

Ling-er fell silent and her head drooped, crestfallen. A long while

passed before she bit her lip and said in a small voice, "Thank you for the

advice."

"You're welcome."

She left quietly. Watching her go, Chu Wanning felt a little conflicted.

The common folk of the lower cultivation realm hoped more fervently to

join a cultivation sect than those of the upper realm. To the people of the

upper cultivation realm, cultivation was a means of bringing honor to one's

ancestors and making a name for oneself. But to people of the lower

cultivation realm, acceptance into a sect was sometimes a means of

survival.

Leaning back against the pile of grain, Chu Wanning took another sip

of his tea. The weather really was getting cooler; the tea had gone cold in

the few short moments he'd left it alone. He gulped the rest down and

closed his eyes, thinking to rest for a bit. But with how poorly he'd slept

last night, together with all the strenuous labor of the morning, he ended up

falling dead asleep.

When he woke again, the sky was already a deep red, and crows were

cawing in the branches. All that was left between the paddy fields were

sheaves of rice, neatly arranged, and scattered pieces of grain.

Chu Wanning's eyes snapped wide open in startlement. To think he

had slept all the way to sundown, propped against the pile of grain like this.

The farmers probably hadn't had the guts to wake him on account of his

status.

Not only had they let him sleep the day away, someone had even

covered him with an article of clothing so he wouldn't catch cold.

He paused. This clothing… He was about to sit up when he

recognized a familiar scent. Coming fully awake, he looked down at the

cloth covering him. The fabric was coarse but very clean, with the

refreshing scent of the soap beans used in its laundering still clinging to its

seams.

It was Mo Ran's clothing.

Upon realizing this, Chu Wanning found himself hastily slumping

back down, the muscles in his back relaxing as he hid half his face under

the clothing. Only a pair of bright eyes were left showing, slightly

narrowed, holding some kind of indescribable and indecipherable emotion

within.

He really must have lost his mind.

Squinting, he scanned the paddy fields for the man he sought.

It didn't take long—Mo Ran had grown so handsomely tall that he stood out

effortlessly wherever he went. From where he sat, Chu Wanning could see

only his back as he helped the villagers load the sheaves of grain onto the

ox cart. Mo Ran was probably hot from having worked all day and had

stripped out of his outer robe and shirt like the other villagers, leaving his

rugged, honey-toned back in full view.

In the searing heat of the sinking sun, sweat slid slowly down the

lines of his broad back with every flex of his muscles, trickling to the

dimples of his back, snaking beneath the toned line of his waist…

Chu Wanning was like red-hot iron, like a coal in the furnace, taking

every tender sentiment and turning it into burning carnal desire. As he

studied Mo Ran from a distance, everything else faded out of his

consciousness, leaving only that person's gorgeous body, the flex of his

muscles as sleek as a panther's, his profile whenever he turned to chat with

the village chief with its soft dimple and kind gaze, overflowing with

handsome charm.

As if he'd sensed the eyes on his back, Mo Ran turned to look over

his shoulder. Chu Wanning hurriedly shut his eyes and pretended to be

asleep. But his heart beat so fast it sounded like a rainstorm, and the blood

racing through his veins was a low rumble in his ears.

Several seconds passed before he sneakily cracked open one eyelid

and peeked out from under his lashes. Mo Ran had already turned back

around, and Ling-er was walking up to him with a bashful gaze and a

handkerchief in her hand. "Xianjun, here, wipe your sweat."

Mo Ran, whose arms were filled with the rice he was moving onto the

cart, smiled and said, "Later, I'm busy right now."

Ling-er seemed more than happy to stay and watch, reaching out now

and again to help straighten the pile so it didn't fall. A bit surprised at her

eagerness, Mo Ran said, "Thank you."

Thus she grew even more delighted, standing next to this tall,

powerful man who practically radiated masculine allure. As she listened to

his breathing and looked at his muscular shoulders, she couldn't help the

blush that spread across her face. For a moment, she forgot all about things

like distance and propriety between men and women. She clutched her

handkerchief and said in a soft voice, "Xianjun, it's gonna drip into your

eyes if you don't wipe it—"

Mo Ran stayed busy. "I don't have hands free right now."

"Then I can wipe it for you…"

She felt a chill at her back before she'd finished speaking.

Without either of them noticing, Chu Wanning had come over to

stand behind them, still wearing Mo Ran's thick black outer robe draped

over his shoulders. He looked listless and irritable, like he had just woken

up.

"Mo Ran."

"Yes?" The man who'd been so busy he had no time to even wipe his

sweat immediately set down the grain in his arms and rubbed the tip of his

nose as he turned, beaming brightly at the sight of Chu Wanning. "Shizun,

you're awake."

Chu Wanning looked him up and down. "Aren't you cold?"

Mo Ran smiled. "I'm kind of hot, actually."

Just then, the droplet of sweat that had been gathering at his dark

brow dripped into his eye. He squeezed it shut with an "Aiya," but the other

eye stayed stubbornly open to gaze upon his shizun. Of course he couldn't

just ask a lady for her handkerchief, so he pleaded with Chu Wanning

instead. "Shizun, my eye…"

"My handkerchief's hanging out to dry right now."

Ling-er hurriedly offered, "You can use mine—"

Paying her no heed, Chu Wanning stepped forward, features

impassive even as he leaned forward and tipped his head back to look up.

He held the cuff of his snowy white sleeve closed as he raised his arm and

used it to carefully wipe the sweat from Mo Ran's brow.