Chapter 90: This Venerable One’s Idiom Explanation Is Just Fine

By the time Chu Wanning finally woke up, it was noon. The Tapir

Fragrance Dew was certainly quite effective; he had managed to get a full

night's rest, undisturbed by dreams. He sat up leisurely and yawned.

"Mo Ran?" That disciple of his loved sleep far more than he, so it was

a surprise not to find him still curled up on the floor. Chu Wanning blinked,

then called for him again.

No reply.

He stood and smoothed his robes, brushing through the wispy strands

of his long hair and pulling it up as he padded toward the screen dividing the

room. The divider bore an elegantly painted image of wild birds soaring

through a cloud bank woven between mountain peaks. Steam rose from

behind it—someone was bathing on the other side.

He hesitated before the screen and tried again. "Mo Ran." Still, there

was no reply. Growing suspicious, Chu Wanning knocked on the wooden

frame of the divider. After several more attempts with no response, he finally

furrowed his brow and walked around the screen.

This part of the room was intended for washing and bathing, and a

large bath barrel of camphor wood stood right in the middle. Chu Wanning

glanced at it hastily—it was filled with hot, steamy water, and bathing herbs

set out earlier by the inn floated on its surface. But right now, there was no

one to be seen.

He looked around again and spied Mo Ran's clothes folded neatly

over the wooden frame. He couldn't possibly have bathed and then run out

naked, could he?

Chu Wanning's temples throbbed as he shoved that terrifying thought

aside, his lips pressed tightly together and face slightly ashen. He turned and

was about to leave when he heard gurgling from behind him. Chu Wanning

looked back to see bubbles rising to the water's surface from beneath the

herbs and petals floating in the barrel. Was someone inside?

No sooner had the thought crossed his mind than a naked young man

sprang from the barrel with a splash, like a dragon soaring out of the water.

Chu Wanning was so startled he inadvertently stumbled back two steps.

It seemed Mo Ran had been holding his breath underwater, and so

didn't hear Chu Wanning calling for him outside. When he could hold it no

longer, he stood, fully exposing the upper half of his body. He shook the

water from his hair like a dog drying itself, splashing all of it right onto Chu

Wanning's robes.

"Mo Ran!"

"Ah!" Mo Ran froze mid-shake, eyes wide and round. He clearly

hadn't expected Chu Wanning to be there and gasped, "Shizun!"

"You…" Chu Wanning's eyes swept across the young man's wellproportioned figure. Mo Ran's shoulders had already become quite broad,

the lines of his body firm and defined, supple and youthfully taut. Droplets of

water traced the contours of his toned chest, gathering in thin rivulets that

trickled down, dazzling under the sunlight.

He looked like a beautiful merman—half out of the water, eyes

glistening, a few stray petals caught in the wet hair that clung to his body. Mo

Ran wiped the water from his face and leaned toward Chu Wanning with a

grin, his shoulder blades flexing like a leopard's as he folded his arms over

the edge of the bath and tilted his head to beam brightly up at him.

Chu Wanning found himself a little dizzy, his face a little warm, and he

asked without thinking, "What are you doing?"

"Taking a bath."

"In the morning?"

"He he." Mo Ran chuckled guiltily—he was actually rinsing with cold

water in an attempt to put out the fire in his loins. It had worked well enough;

but then, since he had already stripped, he felt he might as well take a bath

while he was at it. The soak had put him in a good mood, so he had dived

down to practice holding his breath. He certainly hadn't anticipated that Chu

Wanning would wander in like this.

"What's with that goofy smile?" Chu Wanning knitted his brows, trying

to cover up the heat steaming his brain with a cool tone of voice. "Why

didn't you wake me if you were up early? Messing around like this, throwing

your clothes all over the place, where are your man—"

"Shizun. You got some water on your face." There was a splash as Mo

Ran lifted his hand to wipe Chu Wanning's cheek.

"—ners."

Mo Ran laughed. He had forgotten that his hand was wet, too, and

would only make Chu Wanning's cheek even wetter.

Chu Wanning stood frozen, the air around him cooling by several

degrees. His expression was strained, his lips pressed together; only his

eyelashes quivered now and then. He felt like he was trying to train a hunting

dog, only to get nuzzled by the crafty pup instead. "Get out and get dressed.

We have to head back to the sect." In the end, Chu Wanning tossed out these

words with a frosty expression and left with a swish of his sleeves.

But, where Mo Ran couldn't see, the tips of Chu Wanning's ears were

red. Just like how, where Chu Wanning couldn't see, that pair of dewy eyes,

still tinged with yearning and swimming with complicated feelings, stared

helplessly after him until he disappeared around the corner.

The endearing smile slid off Mo Ran's face, replaced by a look of

frustration. He smacked the water in annoyance, then scooped up a handful

and scrubbed mercilessly at his face.

What the actual hell.

What was wrong with him today? All he did was look at Chu Wanning

a little while bathing and touch his cheek briefly. He had just managed to

suppress his arousal, and now he was hard again…

"Weren't you just getting dressed? What took you so long?" Chu

Wanning chided. He turned from his place by the window in obvious

exasperation. His robes fluttered gently in the breeze, and fine strands of hair

caressed his jade-like cheeks.

Mo Ran coughed. "I was drying my hair with a spell," he mumbled

vaguely, "but I'm n-not very good at it, so it took a while. Sorry to keep

Shizun waiting."

Such uncharacteristic propriety caught Chu Wanning a bit off guard. He

shot his disciple another glance before saying, "If you're done washing, go

get packed. We can go rent a boat. I don't feel like riding swords, and I'm

tired of horses too. Let's go by water and enjoy some sightseeing on the

way."

"Okay, sounds good." Mo Ran didn't dare look at him for too long,

coughing a few more times to cover his unease.

Chu Wanning frowned. "What's wrong with your throat?"

"…Nothing." Mo Ran turned hastily to go pack.

They stopped at a store to pick up some snacks and dry goods for the

trip, then made their way to the docks to rent a vessel.

The pair sailed down the Yangtze River. Whenever they came to an

area impassable by water, they unfurled the wooden wings of the boat and

soared through the air on a magical draft instead. This method of travel

wasn't swift, but it was peaceful and relaxing.

Eight days later, they arrived at Sisheng Peak. The wooden boat slid

down the current to dock by the mountain gate.

Mo Ran lifted the bamboo curtain, allowing Chu Wanning to step out

from the cabin first before following himself. The hour was late, and the

moon hung bright overhead. The Yuheng Elder had written to Xue Zhengyong

with explicit instructions not to send a reception, so they encountered no one

until they'd already climbed the stairs to the main gate. There, four disciples

guarded the entrance.

"Yuheng Elder!"

"Mo-gongzi!"

For some reason, panic flashed across the disciples' faces at the sight

of them. Before either could react, all four dropped to their knees and looked

up at the pair. "Elder, Gongzi," they entreated urgently, "there are people

inside who've come to seek retribution against you! The sect leader sent a

messenger bird to tell you to stay away, but it looks like that fat bird was too

slow! Please go hide in Wuchang Town for a while—whatever you do, don't

go inside right now!"

Chu Wanning narrowed his eyes. "What is the matter, why are you all

so panicked?"

"It's people from the upper cultivation realm! They're accusing the

elder of demonic cultivation, and they want to haul you off to Tianyin

Pavilion for an inquiry!"

"Tianyin Pavilion?" Mo Ran repeated, alarmed. "Isn't that the prison

set up by all ten great sects, reserved for the most heinous of criminals?"

"That's the one! Th-they're here about that incident at Butterfly Town!"

one of the four, a young woman, said anxiously. "Does the elder remember?

That time you were caned as punishment!"

"At most that was a misuse of cultivation techniques or involving

ordinary people. Besides, Shizun has already accepted punishment for it.

Why have they suddenly dragged out that old affair again—and even gone so

far as to involve Tianyin Pavilion." Mo Ran frowned. "And what's this about

demonic cultivation?"

"We don't know the details, either. But we heard everyone in Butterfly

Town died overnight, killed by some half-ghost, half-deity entity that

appeared to be acting at someone's behest. The ghost-deity is incredibly

powerful, and the average wandering cultivator definitely wouldn't be able

to order her about, so those people from the upper cultivation realm ssuspect that Yuheng Elder did it!"

Chu Wanning had no words.

"Pf t," Mo Ran laughed. "And here I was getting all worried. This is

a simple misunderstanding, easy enough to explain. There's no need to hide."

He turned to grin at Chu Wanning. "Shizun, can you believe these people?

Expel some small fiend, and they'll say you're taking opportunities from the

youngsters; purge a major demon and they'll accuse you of practicing

demonic cultivation and keeping a ghost-deity to do your bidding. At this

rate, we'd best stop doing anything at all and sit home meditating all day like

they do."

But Chu Wanning wasn't laughing. His expression was terrible, and he

stood quietly for a time before asking, "Every single person at Butterfly

Town is dead?"

"That's what I heard. Not one survivor."

Chu Wanning closed his eyes, silent.

The female disciple noticed his strange expression. "Elder?" she

asked uneasily.

"This incident was not my doing, but it may have occurred because I

was not sufficiently thorough in the exorcism. If I am indeed to blame, then I

will not shirk responsibility." Chu Wanning opened his eyes slowly. "Mo

Ran, let's go in."

The walls of Loyalty Hall were lined with twelve lamps of coiling

bronze. Each lamp was ten feet tall with nine layers of branches extending

from the central stand, short toward the top and longer toward the bottom.

The three hundred and fifty-six candle lanterns on these branches lit the main

hall of Sisheng Peak so brightly that the night was practically

indistinguishable from day.

Xue Zhengyong, dressed in full martial attire, stood straight-backed on

the high dais of the hall. He looked like a cast-iron statue as he stared down

the people below with the eyes of a predator. "Li-zhuangzhu, I'll say it one

last time. The Yuheng Elder is not at the sect right now. Moreover, I can

vouch with my very life that what happened at Butterfly Town was no doing

of his. So quit throwing around all these baseless…whatchamacallit…"

Next to him, Madam Wang whispered discreetly from behind her

sleeve, "Accusations."

"Ahem, quit throwing around all these baseless whatchamacallit

accusations!" Xue Zhengyong declared with an imposing sweep of his hand.

Madam Wang was at a loss for words.

Not counting Sisheng Peak's own guard disciples, some thirty people

waited in the hall. The group was dressed in jade-green robes, carried

horsetail whisks in their arms, and wore square, black gauze jinxian hats—

obviously disciples from the recently established and rapidly rising Bitan

Manor of the upper cultivation realm. The man at their head was in his fifties,

with a pair of long whiskers that stuck out from the sides of his face and

drifted in the slight draft like those of a catfish. This was none other than the

Bitan Manor leader himself, Li Wuxin.

"Xue-zhangmen," Li Wuxin sneered as he twirled a whisker, "I'm only

here to reason with you because your sect is yet considered a righteous one.

The tragedy at Butterfly Town occurred after your Yuheng Elder and his

disciples performed an exorcism there. Other than these three, the Chen

household had no contact whatsoever with any cultivators. We have evidence

and witnesses both. You have no choice but to admit fault in this matter."

Xue Meng, standing next to his father, couldn't take it anymore. "And

what fucking right do you lot have to speak? When have you ever taken it

upon yourselves to deal with the problems of the lower cultivation realm?

All you ever do is sit on your hands trying to cultivate yourselves to

immortality. Then the moment something happens you rush down here and try

to lay the blame on my shizun! What kind of justice is that?!"

"Xue-gongzi." Rather than get mad, Li Wuxin leveled a meaningful

look at him and smiled. "I've heard of you; people call you the son of the

phoenix. But meeting you in person today and seeing for myself your, heh,

poise and composure, has certainly been, shall we say, an eye-opening

experience."

"You—!"

Li Wuxin rolled his eyes and turned back to Xue Zhengyong. "Xuezhangmen, we of the upper cultivation realm practice strict adherence to the

laws, and we intend to get to the bottom of this. If you really refuse to

cooperate and will not hand over Yuheng, Mo Ran, and the rest, then I shall

have no choice but to entreat the foremost sect of the cultivation world,

Rufeng Sect, to take charge of the investigation themselves!"

Xue Zhengyong had always had a fierce temper. He scoffed at this

threat. "I'm well aware that your Bitan Manor is chummy with Rufeng Sect,

but even if Nangong Liu himself stood before me today, I'd tell him the same

thing—I will not hand them over. This has nothing to do with Yuheng."

"Well then," said Xue Meng, hot on his heels, "Li-zhuangzhu, kindly

see yourself out."

"See that? Did everyone see that?! Do you see how difficult and

unreasonable they are—they're aiding and abetting criminals!" A man's

shaky voice burst from the crowd. "It was the same back then, when that Mo

character stole my friend's things. We came here courteously seeking justice,

and they brushed us off and kicked us out just like this! Li-zhuangzhu, you

saw it too, right? If Sisheng Peak is allowed to continue acting so

outrageously, considering themselves above the law, then the lower

cultivation realm will be done for!"

He had barely finished when a low chuckle came from the hall's

entrance.

Everyone turned toward the door. There, in the shadows where the

light spilling from the hall did not reach, stood a blue-robed young man in

light armor. He leaned casually against the intricately carved vermilion

doorframe and watched the scene within the hall with a languid expression.

This youth was extremely handsome, his supple and firm skin practically

glowing under the candlelight.

"Pray tell, Chang-gongzi, when exactly did I ever steal anything from

your friend?" His smile was soft and charming, "That Rong San…or was it

Rong Jiu? I can't remember. Anyway, that pretty boy, is he your friend or

your paramour? Rather deceptive of you to only tell part of the story, hm?

What if you hurt his feelings?"

The man complaining so woefully was none other than that merchant

Chang from Yizhou, the very same who had declared that Sisheng Peak

hadn't seen the last of him all those months ago.

Chang-gongzi whipped his head around, startled to see Mo Ran. But

then something flickered in his eyes, and he howled in misery, "Mo Weiyu,

you bastard! My friendship with Jiu-er is like that of mortar and pestle,

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perfectly innocent. He's already died so tragically at the hands of your

fiendish ilk, yet you—you still dare slander his name!"

"What?" A chill ran down Mo Ran's spine, and his eyes widened

slightly. "Rong Jiu is dead?"

"His parents are from Butterfly Town," Chang-gongzi went on, angry

and tearful. "He met with misfortune while visiting home some days ago.

That's how I learned of you and your shizun's evil deeds! That's why I went

to Li-zhuangzhu for justice!"

Mo Ran's opinion of Rong Jiu was far from positive, so after the

initial shock had passed, he dismissed Chang-gongzi with a curt wave of his

hand. "Friendship of mortar and pestle? So, what, you're the pestle and he's

the mortar, pound pound pound? Not sure how that's innocent, but okay."

"M-Mo Ran!" Chang-gongzi hadn't expected this and was quite

affronted. "Y-you illiterate reprobate! You, you—"

"Ahem…" It was a bit much for Madam Wang too.

Only Xue Zhengyong blinked and said nothing. Mortar this and pestle

that, whatever that meant, it couldn't be anything good; he felt like his

nephew's words made quite a lot of sense actually. Nothing wrong with 'em.

From the darkness of the night outside the hall came a sigh like the

shattering of jade, or the first melt of a frozen-over lake, deep and

indescribably lovely. A slender, well-proportioned hand reached out…

And delivered an unceremonious slap right across Mo Ran's face.

"Such obscenity. 'Friendship of mortar and pestle' means a friendship

that disregards status and means, like that between Gong Shamu and Wu

You." Chu Wanning appeared in the doorway, expression dark and tone

cross. "What are you doing hanging around the door being an

embarrassment? Get the hell inside!"

"Shizun!"

"Shizun!"

Xue Meng and Shi Mei, overjoyed, rushed forward to greet him. But

Xue Zhengyong's eyes widened in exasperation. "Yuheng, what are you doing

back here?"

"How long were you planning to hold out by yourself if I didn't

come?" Chu Wanning strode serenely into Loyalty Hall, his handsome face

like that of an immortal under the candlelight, unsurpassed in grace and

elegance. He came to a stop before the golden seat within the hall and

exchanged a nod with Xue Zhengyong, then turned toward the petitioners with

a flourish of his wide sleeves.

"Chu Wanning of Sisheng Peak, humble bearer of the title Yuheng

Elder. It seems you have questions for me; I would not refuse you answers."

Li Wuxin stared in shock, but Chu Wanning, his phoenix eyes like smoke,

spared him the barest glance before continuing in an even tone, "Kindly do

enlighten me."