Chapter 78: This Venerable One’s Shizun Has a Nightmare

Chu Wanning and Mo Ran spent the night in the same room. Mo Ran

heedlessly fell asleep on the floor in no time. Conversely, Chu Wanning's

thoughts were restless and erratic, and he tossed and turned for a long while

before he finally dozed off into fitful slumber.

His eyes were closed, and he could hear the howling of wind by his

ears.

Chu Wanning opened his eyes to find himself kneeling in the snow.

A dream? Then why did this moment feel so real, as if he had, at some

point, actually lived through it?

It was the middle of winter. The sky was dark and gray and heavy with

clouds that covered the land and stretched to the distant horizon. The snow

had piled up past his ankles, freezing the very ground itself, and even the

thick cloak draped across his shoulders couldn't stave off the bite of winter.

Looking down, he saw a sky-blue cloak lined with fur, sewn with

intricate patterns in silver thread. It looked somehow familiar, but between

one moment and the next, that feeling slipped away.

Chu Wanning tried to get up, unsure of why he was having this manner

of harrowing dream. But it was as if his body was not his own; he continued

to kneel motionless on the ground. Even when snow covered his shoulders

and specks of ice stuck to his eyelashes, his body still showed no intention of

moving.

The quavering voice of an elderly person came from behind him.

"Chu-zongshi, it's getting dark. His Imperial Majesty surely won't see you

today—let's go back."

The Chu Wanning in the dream didn't turn around even as footsteps

approached, crunching through the snow, and an umbrella appeared above

him.

Chu Wanning heard himself say, "Thank you, Liu-gong. You're getting

on in age, so please head back to the pavilion. I'll be all right here."

"Zongshi…"

The elderly voice seemed to want to continue, but Chu Wanning said,

"Go on."

The feeble voice sighed, and heavy steps walked a few paces away.

Then they turned back around, and the umbrella reappeared over his head.

"This old one will keep Zongshi company."

Chu Wanning felt his eyes close in the dream, and nothing else was

said.

It all seemed so strange, this ridiculous dream of his. The words they

uttered were absurd, incomprehensible. What was all this "His Imperial

Majesty" and "Liu-gong" nonsense? These inner palace phrases had no place

in the cultivation world Chu Wanning knew.

He tried to take in the scenery of the dream through the lowered lashes

of this body. The place looked like Sisheng Peak, but some things were

different.

The structures were more or less the same, but they were much more

lavishly decorated. The corridors surrounding the courtyard were draped

with pale violet veils dotted with embroidered stars, and bells carved into

the shape of pearl-holding dragons dangled from the roofs. Clear, crisp

jingles danced faintly through the air whenever a gust of wind blew past.

He was kneeling facing the main hall, in front of which a row of

guards were stationed, wearing uniforms that he had never seen before. He

wondered which sect they were from.

The sky gradually darkened, and a line of palace maids, their hair done

up in a traditional style, filed out from a side door to light the standing lamps

on either side of the palace gate with fair, slender hands. Each lamp was as

tall as a person, with nine layers each, including forty-nine haitang-shaped

lamps hanging from slender copper branches. Candles at the center of the

haitangs glowed brightly, their light scattering on the ground like the starry

sky from above, and illuminated the front of the palace with a dazzling

radiance.

Finished with her task, the head maid shot Chu Wanning a glare. "It's

freezing out here tonight," she said, malice in her voice as she smirked

coldly. "Who are you putting on that pitiful act for? His Imperial Majesty and

the empress are currently delighting in their revelries. You can kneel there for

as long as you like; no one will care."

How impudent!

All Chu Wanning's life, no one had ever dared to speak to him like

that. He opened his mouth angrily, but although the voice that came out was

his own, the words spoken were not. "I do not mean to interrupt his leisure,

but I truly have important matters to discuss. Please inform him."

"Who do you think you are? Why should I play messenger for you?"

The head maid sneered. "His Majesty and the empress are quite enjoying

themselves. Who would dare disturb them? If you really want to see His

Majesty, you can stay right there. Maybe he'll spare you a glance in the

morning, hmph."

The old servant behind Chu Wanning couldn't take it anymore, and he

spoke up in his wavering voice, "Yes, His Majesty favors your mistress, but

shouldn't you still consider to whom you speak? Take at least some care with

your words."

"To whom I'm speaking? Who here at Sisheng Peak doesn't know that

His Majesty hates him more than anyone? What need is there to be respectful

toward him?! Bold of a senile old fool to lecture me!" The head maid's eyes

were wide with rage as she called, "Guards!"

"What do you mean to do?!" The feeble old man, back hunched from

age, stepped forward to shield Chu Wanning behind himself.

"Extinguish the fire basins," the palace maid said coyly as she glared

at him.

"Right away!"

The guards immediately went to the basins in the courtyard and put out

the fires burning within.

Chu Wanning thought to himself that while the maid had a sharp tongue,

she wasn't dumb. With the temperature this painfully cold, she had no need to

argue with them or directly do anything. She only had to put out the fire and

the courtyard would be as an icy cavern, too cold for even the hardiest

individual to tolerate.

The night grew deeper, and music and song drifted without cease from

the warmly lit palace.

Chu Wanning was still kneeling. His legs had gone numb long ago.

"Zongshi…go back…" The old servant sounded like he was about to

sob. "Please go back—your body can't take this. You know how His Majesty

is. If you fall sick, he probably won't even send a physician. You have to take

care of yourself."

"This ruined body is hardly worth anything," Chu Wanning said softly.

"If I can only stop him from attacking Kunlun Taxue Palace, I'm willing to

die."

"Zongshi! Wh-why go to such lengths…"

The Chu Wanning in the dream was already greatly weakened. He

coughed a few times, but his eyes were clear and bright. "Everything that he

is today, all of it was my fault. I…"

He couldn't finish speaking before he was overtaken by an alarmingly

violent coughing fit. Chu Wanning covered his mouth with his sleeve, tasting

iron in his throat. When he pulled his hand away, it was covered in blood,

crimson against the snow-white world.

"Chu-zongshi!"

"I…"

Chu Wanning still wanted to say something, but black washed over his

vision and he collapsed into the snow, unable to hold on any longer.

There was a confused racket by his ear, a sudden chaos. It also seemed

very far away, as if separated by layers of fog, oceans apart, and he could

barely hear the commotion around him.

Hazily, he heard the old servant yelling in a panic, but he could only

catch a few scattered words.

"Your Imperial Majesty! Your Majesty, please… Chu-zongshi, he can't

hold on much longer. Please grant him an audience! This old one will gladly

die—"

The disturbance grew and spread. Footsteps came from all around,

lights turned on.

The melody of instruments and the sweet voices of songstresses came

to an abrupt halt. The palace gates seemed to be flung open, and there was a

gust of warm, fragrant air from inside. Chu Wanning felt himself being picked

up and brought into the warmth of the palace hall. A large hand touched his

forehead, then flinched away as if stung.

A low, familiar voice bellowed dangerously: "Why was this

venerable one not informed?"

No one answered.

The man was infuriated, and there was a loud crashing sound of

something heavy being smashed. He continued to roar, voice booming like

thunder inside the hall. "Are you trying to defy me? He is the master of the

Red Lotus Pavilion, this venerable one's shizun! And not a single one of you

came to notify this venerable one that he was kneeling outside? Why was this

venerable one not informed?!"

Someone fell to their knees with a thud, quivering all over. It was the

head palace maid who had been flouncing about earlier. "This lowly one

deserves death. This lowly one saw that Your Majesty and the empress were

in good spirits and dared not disturb you…"

The man paced briskly back and forth a few times, but rather than

subsiding, his anger only worsened. His black robes, trimmed with gold,

billowed across the floor like a dark cloud before finally stilling, and when

he spoke again, his voice was twisted. "His constitution is poor; he can't

take the cold. That you made him wait in the snow without informing me, and

even…even put out the fire in

the courtyard…"

His voice shook with rage, and he drew in a deep breath before

continuing. The words he spoke next weren't loud, but his tone carried a

murderous aura that chilled those present to the bone.

"You wanted to kill him."

The maid went pale from fright, her head banging repeatedly against

the ground until her entire forehead was blue and purple, voice pitching

higher through her trembling lips. "No! No! This lowly one wouldn't dare!

Your Majesty! Please have mercy, Your Majesty!"

"Take her to the Platform of Sin and Virtue for execution."

"Your Majesty! Your Majesty—"

The shrill voice scratched along the inside of his ears like bloodred

nails as the dreamscape began to shake and fall apart amidst her terrified

shrieking. The scene scattered and disintegrated like the drift of snowflakes.

"Do you have any idea how much effort it took this venerable one to

drag him back from the gates of death? Aside from this venerable one, no one

is allowed to harm so much as a hair on his head…"

That hoarse voice was perfectly calm, but that very calmness framed

the frightening madness beneath.

Chu Wanning felt that person come closer and stop in front of him. A

hand gripped his jaw.

Blearily, he opened his eyes, trying to get a look at him. Under the

bright, dazzling lights, he saw a blurry face with strong, pitch-black brows, a

straight nose, and eyes dark like the blackest satin, with a faint tinge of

purple in the light of the candle.

"Mo Ran…?"

"Shizun!"

Suddenly, a voice called to him in sharp definition.

Chu Wanning's eyes flew open. He was still lying in the room at the

inn, it was still dark outside, and a lone candle flickered on the table.

Mo Ran was sitting at the edge of the bed with one hand pressed

against Chu Wanning's forehead and the other braced on the bed, looking at

him worriedly.

"What did I…" Chu Wanning felt all out of sorts. That dream had been

far too real, and for a while, he couldn't quite break out of his daze.

"You had a nightmare. You were shaking so much," Mo Ran said as he

tucked his blanket around him. "You looked like you were freezing. I was

worried you might be running a fever, but thankfully not."

Chu Wanning uttered a quiet, "oh," and turned to look out of the

slightly opened window. The sky was yet dark outside, the night yet deep. "It

was snowing in my dream," he murmured, then said no more. He sat up,

burying his face in one hand and taking a moment to steady himself before

exhaling slowly. "Must've been overtired."

"I'll go make some ginger tea for you." Mo Ran gazed worriedly at the

paleness of his face. "Shizun, you look terrible."

Chu Wanning did not respond.

Faced with this lack of reply, Mo Ran sighed and, without really

thinking, instinctively pressed his own forehead against Chu Wanning's cold,

sweat-drenched brow. "If you don't say anything, I'll take that as a, 'yes.'"

Startled by the sudden closeness, Chu Wanning reflexively leaned

backward a little. "Mn."

Mo Ran, also not quite awake, offhandedly stroked Chu Wanning's hair

like he had in his past life. Then he pulled on his outer robe and went

downstairs to borrow the kitchen. A little while later, he returned with a

wooden tray.

Mo Ran wasn't heartless. Chu Wanning had rushed to Peach Blossom

Springs to save him and had also gone to great lengths to protect him. No

matter how much resentment he'd harbored toward this person before, for the

time being, he was grateful.

The tray bore a pot of steaming ginger tea and a small jar of brown

sugar. Mo Ran knew that while Chu Wanning didn't like things with overly

strong flavors, he was quite fond of sweet foods.

Besides the ginger tea, he had also brought a mantou from the kitchen,

which he had sliced into thin pieces, soaked in fresh milk, then fried until

crispy, before finishing them off with a sprinkling of powdered sugar to make

for a plate of simple light snacks.

Color gradually returned to Chu Wanning's face as he held a cup of

ginger tea in both hands and sipped slowly from it. He picked up a piece of

the sweet, crispy mantou between porcelain-white fingertips and

contemplated it for a while. "What's this?"

"I just threw something together. It doesn't have a name yet."

Mo Ran scratched his head. "Try it, Shizun. It's sweet."

Chu Wanning disliked fried foods, thinking them greasy, but on hearing

the word "sweet," he held one to his lips and hesitantly took a small bite.

"Mm…"

"Is it good?" Mo Ran asked experimentally.

Chu Wanning glanced at him and said nothing, but he picked up another

piece to eat with the ginger tea.

The pot of tea and plateful of snacks quickly disappeared, and in this

warmth, the remnants of the nightmare also dissipated like smoke. Chu

Wanning yawned and lay down once more. "I'm going back to sleep."

"Hang on." Mo Ran lifted his hand to wipe the corner of Chu

Wanning's lips. "You got some crumbs there."

Chu Wanning did not reply. That open smile on Mo Ran's face made

his ears feel a little warm despite himself. He turned his

face away with a soft sound of assent and paid him no more heed.

Mo Ran collected the dishes and went downstairs to return them.

When he came back, he saw Chu Wanning lying on his side, facing the wall,

perhaps already asleep. He walked up and quietly put down the curtain, at

which point Chu Wanning spoke. "It's cold at night. Don't sleep on the floor

anymore."

"Then…"

Chu Wanning, with his long eyelashes lowered, truly wanted

Mo Ran to stay. However, the words, "Sleep up here," wouldn't come out,

even as the tips of his ears kept getting warmer and warmer.

He cared for Mo Ran and so didn't want him to sleep on the floor, but

he also liked him and didn't want him to leave.

Chu Wanning's face was terribly thin, and he knew all too well that

even if he did manage to get out the words, he would surely be rejected. Then

both his veneer and dignity would be forfeit. Even thinking about it made him

feel pathetic. Things had been so much easier as Xia Sini. Little ones were

allowed to be a bit willful.

Yet Mo Ran had been good to him today. He'd even remembered that

Chu Wanning liked a lot of brown sugar in his ginger tea. Was it acceptable

for him to think that, maybe, Mo Ran did actually care for him a little bit?

The thought made Chu Wanning's chest warm, and in a hotheaded

moment, he blurted out: "Come sleep up here."

"I'll go see if they're done yet, and if so, I'll return to my own room."

Chu Wanning and Mo Ran spoke at practically the same time. Mo Ran

didn't fully process his shizun's words until after he had finished speaking

himself. His eyes widened slightly when he did.

"Sounds good," Chu Wanning concurred instantly, as if rushing to

cover up what he had said. "Go on."

"Shizun, you…"

"I'm tired. You can leave."

"All right… Rest well, Shizun."

Mo Ran left, the door creaking open and then shut.

In the darkness, Chu Wanning opened his eyes. His heart raced in his

chest, and his palms were covered with sweat, humiliated by his loss of selfcontrol. He really had been alone for too long, if he could mistake a tiny

sliver of kindness and care from someone for sincere tenderness. Like an

idiot.

Irritated, he turned over and buried his face in his pillow, where he

sank into a bottomless pit of self-loathing. He was well aware that Mo Ran

liked Shi Mingjing and that there was nothing between himself and Mo Ran

but for the polite distance of master and disciple. And yet…

The person from his dream appeared unbidden in his mind.

The same exact face, only older. The way he had looked at Chu

Wanning with a surly expression and eyes too deep to read.

With a creak, the door opened again.

Chu Wanning froze, his entire back going stiff like a bow stretched

taut.

Someone came over to his bed. There was a moment of silence, then

he felt that person sit at the edge, bringing with him the light scent of freshly

laundered clothes. "Shizun, are you asleep?"

No response.

So Mo Ran continued, voice even like he was discussing the weather.

"They're still at it." He chuckled softly and lay down next to Chu Wanning

with his head propped up on one arm, gaze sweeping over his shizun's back

as it very obviously and visibly tensed several degrees further. "Is Shizun's

offer from earlier still open?"

Chu Wanning did not reply.

"Shizun sure likes to ignore people. If Shizun doesn't say anything, I'll

take it as a 'yes,' again."

"Hmph."

Mo Ran's eyes lit with pleasure, purple-black and flickering with

amusement at the cold hmph that came from the other side of the bed. If

doting on Shi Mei was his habit, then teasing his shizun was a game he never

tired of.

He never could figure out just what it was that he felt toward Chu

Wanning. All he knew was that this person made his heart itch, made him

want to bare his fangs and bite him until he started either crying or laughing

—although either was, for the most part, wishful thinking.

But whenever that face, ever cool and impassive, showed the slightest

bit of emotion because of Mo Ran, he found himself becoming fervently

excited.

"Shizun."

"Mn."

"Nothing, just felt like saying it."

Chu Wanning didn't bother replying.

"Shizun."

"If you have something to say, out with it. If not, shut up."

"Ha ha ha." Mo Ran laughed, then suddenly thought of something and

asked, half-joking and half-serious, "I was thinking that Xia-shidi and Shizun

really are incredibly alike. Shizun, is he your son?"

A long, long silence.

Chu Wanning had endured far too much emotional turmoil for one

night, and he was in a sulky mood. Suddenly getting made fun of like this, he

couldn't help feeling irritated.

"Pfft, I was just messing with Shizun, don't mind—"

"Yes," Chu Wanning answered coolly. "He's my son."

Mo Ran was still grinning. "Oh, that's what I figured. So he's your son

—wait! Son?!" Mo Ran's eyes flew wide as if he'd been struck by lightning,

his mouth hanging open in disbelief. "S-s-s-s-son?!"

"Mn." Chu Wanning rolled over and pinned Mo Ran with a deadpan

gaze, his face thoroughly serious and without the slightest hint of jest.

Chu Wanning had blundered too much tonight and feared that his

facade might not hold. If Mo Ran wanted to make this joke, he might as well

take the chance to muddy the waters. Chu Wanning would do whatever it took

to ensure that Mo Ran didn't realize that he liked him.

As Chu Wanning thought this, he calmly picked up the pieces of his

dignity that he had dropped and said with all seriousness,

"Xia Sini is my illegitimate child. Even he doesn't know this. As of right

now, this is a secret known to the heavens, the earth, you, and me.

If a third person were ever to find out, I would utterly end you."

Mo Ran was struck absolutely, completely, totally dumb.