Chapter 74: This Venerable One’s Fault

Mo Ran was dumbstruck.

A long while passed before he snapped out of it, his entire face bright

red as he waved his hands frantically. "No, that, uh, I dunno, this isn't mine,

where did my handkerchief go? I, I-I, oh god, how am I gonna get out of this

one…"

Mo Ran stared at that square of silken cloth with a haitang flower

sewn on a corner, but he couldn't for the life of him remember why he even

had it. He racked his brain in a panic, then suddenly smacked his head. "Ah!"

"What is it…?"

"I remembered!" Mo Ran let out a sigh of relief and took the

handkerchief from Shi Mei's hands with a smile. "Sorry, this isn't mine, so I

can't give it to you."

Shi Mei fell silent. I didn't even say I wanted it to begin with.

"It's not Shizun's either—it's not like everything with a haitang on it

belongs to Shizun." Mo Ran folded the handkerchief neatly and tucked it back

into his robes, beyond relieved that he hadn't accidentally taken his shizun's

possession. "It's Xia-shidi's."

Shi Mei looked thoughtful. "Xia-shidi's?"

"Mm-hmm. We've been living together these last few days, so maybe I

grabbed the wrong one from the drying rack this morning or something. Ha

ha, how embarrassing."

Shi Mei was silent for a moment, then he smiled gently and said, "Mm,

it's no big deal." He stood. "It's getting late. We should go pick up Xiashidi."

They left the house and headed for the cave.

They didn't get far before Shi Mei started slowing down. It wasn't too

obvious at first, but then he stumbled on a rock and would have fallen if Mo

Ran hadn't reacted quickly and caught him in time.

Mo Ran was shocked by Shi Mei's pallid complexion. "What's

wrong?"

"It's nothing." Shi Mei took a deep breath. "I didn't eat much for lunch.

Just feeling a little faint. Nothing a bit of rest won't fix."

The more he tried to gloss over it, the more Mo Ran worried. Now

that he thought about it, Shi Mei wasn't great at qinggong, and everything here

at Peach Blossom Springs, from food to clothes, cost feathers to purchase.

Mo Ran had always made sure to give Shi Mei some feathers, but he had

been locked up for a few days now, and Xue Meng was too thoughtless to

take care of anyone…

The more Mo Ran thought, the more concerned he grew. "You used to

skip lunch all the time back at the sect, too, but I've never seen you in such a

state," he pressed. "Am I to believe this is the result of only missing one

meal? Tell me the truth: When was the last time you ate?"

"I…"

Mo Ran's expression grew even darker at Shi Mei's reluctance to

answer. He grabbed Shi Mei and started walking in the opposite direction.

"A-Ran, wh-where are we going?" Shi Mei fretted.

"Where the food is!" Mo Ran said sharply, but when he turned around

there was only worry in his eyes. "Why didn't you take care of yourself

while I was gone? You're always, always thinking about everyone else and

putting others first! What about yourself? Have you ever thought about

yourself?"

"A-Ran…"

Mo Ran dragged Shi Mei all the way to a tavern. Normally, Shi Mei

belonged to the Healing Division and shouldn't have been in the Attack

Division region without a token. However, anxiety had run high ever since

the incident with Eighteen, so the feathered tribe had lifted that restriction to

ease things.

"What do you want? Order whatever."

"Anything's fine." Shi Mei seemed a bit guilty. "Sorry, I wanted to

come help, but I ended up getting in the way instead…"

"No need for things like 'sorry' between us." Mo Ran flicked his

forehead and gentled his tone. "Go ahead and order. I'll pay for it, and then

you can take your time eating."

Shi Mei looked at him. "What about you?"

"I have to go pick up Xia-shidi. There's a guard at the cave, but I'm

still worried, what with the killer still being out there."

When Shi Mei realized that Mo Ran wanted to leave, his eyes seemed

to darken for an instant. "Just two buns, then," he said quickly. "I'll go with

you and eat on the way."

Mo Ran was going to try to talk him out of it when the bird-like chitter

of feminine voices came from outside. Some dozen young female cultivators,

all primped up, entered the building while giggling.

"Hey, shopkeep, I have a question," the lady at the head of the group

said with a smile. "Did Da-shixiong…reserve the banquet room at this tavern

tonight?"

"Indeed, indeed." The shopkeep was all smiles. It hadn't taken long

for the feathered tribe to figure out that Da-shixiong liked wine and song, so

every single night, they held a banquet at one tavern or another. Wherever

this "Da-shixiong" went, a group of giggling ladies was sure to flock.

Sure enough, the ladies were thrilled and immediately hurried to

reserve their tables. Now and again, their words drifted over to Mo Ran's

ears. It was all, "Xiao-Fang, how does the painting on my eyebrows look?

Do you think Da-shixiong will like it?" "It's lovely. What do you think about

my eyeliner? Is it too flashy? Will it make him think I'm flighty?" and stuff

like, "You're so pretty, Da-shixiong will like you for sure! Yesterday I saw

him look at you quite a few times." "Aiya, stop teasing me—if only! Dashixiong's type is definitely someone like Jiejie, refined and so well-read."

Mo Ran had no words. Even in such troubled times, these ladies could

flutter about like this over some guy. The corner of his mouth twitched, and

he turned to Shi Mei. "Buns it is, then. Let's grab and go—I'll worry if I

leave you here alone in this cave of carnivorous beasts."

Shi Mei shook his head at Mo Ran's expression, his laughter light.

The tastiest thing on the menu at this tavern was their large, droolworthy meatbuns. Mo Ran bought ten at once and gave them all to Shi Mei.

When Mo Ran glanced at Shi Mei nibbling happily on the buns as they

walked, he was finally able to relax a little.

No one expected the bun to do Shi Mei in.

His stomach was already weak to start with, so suddenly eating an oily

bun after having had nothing in him for so long left him hurting in no time.

Now Mo Ran really couldn't leave to go pick up Xia-shidi. He carried

a pale and sweaty Shi Mei back to the Campsis Pavilion in a frantic rush and

laid him down on the bed he had tidied, then dashed out to ask for a

physician.

After giving him some medicine and warm water, Mo Ran sat by the

bed filled with self-reproach as he looked at Shi Mei's pallid face. "Does it

still hurt? Here, I'll rub your tummy."

Shi Mei's voice was quiet and weak. "No need…it's okay…"

Mo Ran's large and well-defined hand had already reached over to

gently knead him through the quilt. Maybe it was because the pressure was

just right and it felt good, but Shi Mei didn't protest. His breaths evened out

under the attentive kneading, and he fell asleep.

Mo Ran stayed until Shi Mei was sound asleep before getting ready to

leave. Before he'd stood, his hand was caught.

Mo Ran's eyes, black with a tinge of purple, widened. "Shi Mei?"

"It hurts… Don't leave…" The beauty's eyes were still closed, and he

seemed to be talking in his sleep.

Mo Ran stood locked in place. Shi Mei had never asked anyone for

anything; he was always the one helping others without any expectation of

receiving the same. Only while asleep would he plead with Mo Ran to stay

in such a soft voice.

So Mo Ran sat back down, gazing fondly at the face that he yearned for

day and night, while continuing to massage his stomach. Outside the lattice

window, peach blossom petals drifted lazily by as the sky darkened.

By the time Mo Ran remembered that he had told his little shidi he'd

be back for dinner, it was already midnight.

"Oh no!" Mo Ran jumped to his feet, smacking his head over and over,

"Oh no, oh no, oh no!"

By then, Shi Mei was deeply asleep. Mo Ran dashed outside and was

about to sprint to the cave when a blue light flashed in the sky and the Xuanji

Elder descended from above with a child in his arms, a child who held a

little clay jar.

"Xuanji Elder!"

Xuanji shot Mo Ran a reproachful glance. "What happened? Didn't

you say you were going to go pick him up? If I hadn't been concerned and

gone to check on him after all, Yu…ahem, my disciple would've had to wait

in that cave till dawn."

"This disciple was wrong." Mo Ran lowered his head, but nonetheless

lifted his eyes to look at Chu Wanning. "Shidi…"

Xuanji put Chu Wanning down. Chu Wanning, still holding that clay jar,

looked calmly at Mo Ran. "Have you eaten yet?"

Mo Ran hadn't expected that to be the first thing he said, and he could

only reply dumbly: "N-not yet…"

So Chu Wanning walked over and offered him the jar. "Have some,"

he said mildly. "It's still warm."

Mo Ran stood there motionlessly for a while. By the time he came

back around, he had already pulled the little guy into a hug, along with his

clay jar. "Okay, I will."

This silly kid had been worried that the soup might go cold, and he had

taken off his outer robe to wrap it around the jar. His small body felt a bit

chilly in Mo Ran's arms.

Mo Ran pressed their foreheads together, nuzzling him softly, and for

the first time in two lives, he spoke these words and meant them: "Sorry. It

was my fault."

They bid Xuanji good night and went inside the pavilion.

Chu Wanning's outer robe was now too wrinkled to wear, and Mo Ran

worried that his shidi might need the warmth, so he went to the inner room to

find him a blanket. Chu Wanning yawned and climbed onto a wooden bench

holding the clay jar, and he was about to take out two bowls for the soup

when his gaze landed on the meatbuns that Shi Mei hadn't finished. He

blinked, silent.

Hopping off the bench, Chu Wanning walked over to the bedroom and

looked expressionlessly at that beautiful person lying on the bed inside. He

neither grew angry nor said a word, but icy tendrils seeped out of his bones,

and he felt his heart, so warm only a moment ago, freeze into a solid block of

ice.

When Mo Ran returned to the kitchen, Chu Wanning was sitting at the

table next to the window as before, with one foot on the bench and the other

dangling off, an arm propped casually on the windowsill. When he heard Mo

Ran's movement, he turned his head a little and sent a glance at Mo Ran.

"Here, I found a firefox fur blanket. Bundle up, it's cold at night."

Chu Wanning didn't reply.

Mo Ran walked over and handed him the blanket, but Chu Wanning

didn't take it. He only shook his head and slowly closed his eyes, as if

resting.

"What's wrong? You don't like it?"

Still no reply.

"I'll go see if there's a different one, then," Mo Ran said with a smile

as he ruffled Chu Wanning's hair. But when he turned to go look for another

blanket, he realized that the clay jar was no longer on the table. He stared in

confusion. "Where'd my soup go?"

"Who said it was yours?" Chu Wanning finally spoke, his voice

wintry. "It's mine."

The corner of Mo Ran's lips twitched. He figured that the kid was

throwing a tantrum. "Okey dokey. Yours, then. Where did your soup go?"

"I threw it away," Chu Wanning said flatly.

"Th-threw…?"

Chu Wanning went back to ignoring him. He hopped lightly off the

bench and opened the door to leave.

"Hey—Shidi? Shidi, where are you going?" Mo Ran forgot all about

the blanket—the killer was still at large, it wasn't safe out there—and hastily

chased after him.

He spied the small clay jar under the peach blossom tree; it hadn't

been thrown out after all. Mo Ran let out a breath. This was his own fault to

start with. His little shidi had probably been trying to hold in his resentment

earlier, but then been unable to hold it in any longer and let it out despite

himself. And he had every right to do so.

So Mo Ran walked over and sat down next to Chu Wanning, who had

seated himself under the peach blossom tree. Ignoring Mo Ran, Chu Wanning

grabbed the little clay jar, opened the lid, took out a ladle bigger than his

face, and tried to reach in. But the ladle wouldn't fit, and he threw it aside in

a fit of anger. The ladle struck the ground with a crack and broke into pieces,

and the boy sat there holding the jar in a daze.

"Just drink right out of it," Mo Ran suggested, his head turned

sideways and cheek propped up. "It's just the two of us here anyway. No

need to be embarrassed."

Chu Wanning did not deign to respond.

"No? I'm gonna drink it if you don't. It's the first time my shidi has

made soup for me—I'm not gonna let it go to waste," Mo Ran teased as he

reached for the jar with a grin.

To his surprise, Chu Wanning slapped his hand away. "Get lost."

Dumbstruck, Mo Ran blinked. This exchange left him with a bit of deja

vu. Then he scooted back over with a grin on his thick face. "Shidi, I was

wrong. Please don't be mad anymore. I was gonna go pick you up hours ago,

but your Mingjing-shixiong suddenly fell ill so I was delayed. I didn't mean

to leave you waiting."

Chu Wanning kept his head down and said nothing.

"No, really, I was so busy the whole time, and I haven't eaten yet. I'm

starving." Mo Ran tugged on his sleeve pitifully. "Shidi, my kind shidi, my

good shidi, please, may Shixiong have some soup?"

Chu Wanning continued to say nothing, but he eventually moved to

place the jar of soup on the ground. He lifted his head a little and tilted it to

the side a bit before turning away again, meaning for Mo Ran to help himself,

if he wanted.

Mo Ran grinned. "Thanks, Shidi."

The little clay jar was stuffed full. A single glance and Mo Ran could

tell that his shidi hadn't eaten much, leaving him the majority of the meat. It

was actually mostly meat with a little bit of soup.

Mo Ran stared for a bit, eyes lit with amusement. "Are you sure this is

soup?" he teased gently. "Looks more like chicken stew to me. Shidi is so

generous."

Still no response.

Mo Ran stopped chattering then; after spending half the day taking care

of Shi Mei, he really was starving. Besides, his shidi had worked so hard to

make the soup, he couldn't possibly let the kid's good intentions go to waste.

He broke off two small branches from the peach tree, smoothing them into a

pair of chopsticks with a flare of spiritual energy from his fingertips, and got

right down to stuffing a piece of chicken in his mouth.

"Whoa, delicious!" Mo Ran said around a mouthful of steamy chicken.

"It's really good. My shidi is so capable."

In truth, it wasn't that good, and it was a bit salty too, but Mo Ran still

dug in heartily to make his little shidi happy, plowing through most of the

chicken in short order. The entire time, Chu Wanning sat there quietly without

looking at him.

Mo Ran gulped down a big mouthful of soup—it was even saltier than

the meat, so much so that it was practically bitter, but it was still bearable.

He scooped up another drumstick and was about to shove it in his mouth

when he froze.

"How many legs does a chicken have?" Of course there was no reply,

so he answered himself: "Two."

Mo Ran looked at the drumstick held between his chopsticks, then

looked at the bone from the other drumstick that he had eaten. After a long

moment of silence, the idiot finally lifted his head, dazed, and asked Chu

Wanning, "Shidi, were you…" He didn't have the courage to say the rest.

Were you waiting for me this whole time, and so haven't even eaten

yet?

The jar of soup is all meat. Is it because you waited for me for so

long that all the soup boiled off and there was only meat left, so that's all

that was left to put in the jar? Only to have me think…

Only to have me think that you'd already eaten…and just left some

for me… That you'd cooked it wrong and turned chicken soup into chicken

stew…

Mo Ran put the clay jar down wordlessly. He had realized too late;

there was hardly any meat left.

Chu Wanning finally spoke. His voice was still calm and even, with a

bit of youthfulness. "You said you would be back for dinner. So I waited," he

said slowly, tonelessly. "If you don't want it anymore, then at least send

word so I'm not waiting like an idiot. Okay?"

"Shidi…"

Chu Wanning was still facing away, refusing to look at him. Mo Ran

couldn't see his expression.

"Have someone pass me a message that you're going to go keep Shi…

that you're going to go keep Mingjing-shixiong company instead. Would it

have been that hard?"

Mo Ran could not reply.

"You took my jar and rambled so much before eating, but you didn't

even ask if I'd eaten yet. Would that have been so hard?"

Mo Ran had no reply.

"Would it have been so hard to check and see how many drumsticks

were in the jar first?"

That last one sounded a little funny. Even through all his remorse, Mo

Ran could only smile, but his dimples froze before they had even formed.

His little shidi was crying.

Chu Wanning never would have cried over such a minor thing in his

adult form. No one had realized that, although being turned into a child by the

willow sap hadn't affected his mind that much, there had been some impact

after all—his temperament became more childish whenever he was tired or

overexerted himself. This hidden property of the sap was extremely difficult

to detect, so neither Madam Wang nor the Tanlang Elder had noticed it when

taking his pulse.

"I also feel hunger and sadness, I'm human too…" Even with that

younger mentality in the foreground of his mind, Chu Wanning still clung to

his self-restraint, fighting back sobs without a sound. But his shoulders shook

uncontrollably as tears welled and fell from his reddened eyes.

All those years, the Yuheng Elder had always endured silently. No one

liked him, no one kept him company, and he always feigned nonchalance as

he walked through the reverent crowd, lofty and composed. Only with his

mind tinged by childish thoughts could he break down and speak the truth, let

out the misery that had built up within him for so long.

It wasn't that he didn't care for those around him, only that he did it

quietly. Such quietude, day after day, without anyone to see or notice, was

also a kind of torment.

As Mo Ran watched the minute shivering of his little shidi's shoulders,

his heart clenched, and he reached out to soothe him. His hand was slapped

away before it made contact. "Shidi…"

"Don't touch me." Chu Wanning always put up a strong front,

regardless of his age. He firmly wiped away his tears and stood. "I'm going

to bed. You can go keep your shidi company. Just stay away from me."

There was an awkward moment of silence. In Chu Wanning's

indignation, he had forgotten that Shi Mei was older than Mo Ran.

Mo Ran opened his mouth to say something, but Chu Wanning had left.

He disappeared into the other bedroom and the door slammed shut with a

loud bang.

There were only two bedrooms in the courtyard of Campsis Pavilion.

Mo Ran had been planning to let Shi Mei sleep in one while he squeezed into

the other with his little shidi, but it looked like his shidi's room was out of

the question, given how he was so mad he'd even locked the door.

Mo Ran didn't want to climb into bed with Shi Mei either. Not to

mention, having been scolded by his little shidi, and even made him cry, Mo

Ran's head was a complete mess. He wasn't in any mood to think about any

kind of flirting. So he simply sat there in the courtyard in a daze, surrounded

by peach blossoms in full bloom, holding the clay jar that his little shidi had

brought him all the way from the cave. A long while later, he sighed and

slapped himself across the face, cursing in a low voice. "You good-fornothing."

And so Mo Ran spent the night with the earth as his bed and the sky as

his blanket, lying on the ground covered in fallen peach blossom petals,

staring blankly at the sky.

His little shidi… Shi Mei… Shizun… Xue Meng… The fake Gouchen

from Jincheng Lake, the unknown killer… Chu Xun and his son in the

illusion…

A series of hazy figures flashed through Mo Ran's mind. He vaguely

felt like something was off, but the feeling was so faint that it disappeared

before he really noticed.

Peach blossoms bloomed splendidly, their petals drifting gently down.

Mo Ran caught a fallen blossom in his hand, holding the perished flower up

against the moonlight.

He recalled the final moments of his previous life, when he had laid

himself down in the coffin he had prepared ahead of time. That day, the sky

had also been adrift with fallen blossoms, soundless and fragrant. Only the

blossoms back then had been from a haitang tree.

Haitang…

The person he liked, in this life and the last, was Shi Mei. But for

some reason, moments before death, he had chosen to bury himself under the

haitang tree in front of the Heaven-Piercing Tower, where he had first met

Chu Wanning.

Many of the things Mo Ran had done in his past life now frightened

him to think about. The more time passed since his rebirth, the less he

understood why he had been so cruel. Slaughtering entire cities, oppressing

the weak, killing his master… Even forcing Chu Wanning to do things like

that with him…

Mo Ran tossed the peach blossom away and laid his hand across his

forehead, then slowly closed his eyes. The words his little shidi had said

earlier, "I also feel hunger and sadness, I'm human too," circled in his mind.

The one who had said it had been his little shidi, but for an instant, Mo Ran

saw the silhouette of another person.

A person dressed in snow-white robes.

Then he blinked and the white robes became red wedding robes that

dragged on the ground. It was just the way they had looked on that man during

the cermony in the ghost mistress's illusion.

"I'm human too…"

I also feel sorrow and pain. Mo Ran… I also feel pain.

A suffocating pressure suddenly filled Mo Ran's heart, as if something

was trying to burst out. A sheen of cold sweat covered his forehead. He

squeezed his eyes shut, drawing labored breaths, and murmured, "I'm

sorry…"

He didn't know to whom he was apologizing—to his little shidi, or to

that person in wedding robes…

Inside his bedroom, Shi Mei sat up.

Padding quietly over to the window without turning on the light, he

looked through the gap in the shutters. He gazed from afar at Mo Ran, lying

amongst the fallen petals with an arm wrapped around that clay jar, his own

eyes dark and his thoughts unknowable.

Early the next morning, Mo Ran wrinkled his nose where he lay in the

flowers and grass, inhaled a deep breath of the fresh air, and stretched lazily

before getting up.

He only got halfway through the stretch when a shriek shattered the

peace at Campsis Pavilion.

"Aaaah!"

Mo Ran's eyes flew open as he rolled to his feet. The sight before him

made his blood run cold, and all he could do was stare in shock.

Each and every one of the fifteen feathered tribe elites assigned to

guard Campsis Pavilion had been murdered overnight, and in the exact same

manner as Eighteen: a willow vine glowing brightly scarlet was wrapped

around each of their necks—Jiangui!

All of them dangled amidst the grove of peach trees in full bloom, their

crimson sleeves drifting in the breeze and long skirts reaching to the ground.

Their bodies swayed in time with the wind like so many preserved flowers,

eerie yet uncannily beautiful.

The one who had screamed was a low-ranking member of the

feathered tribe who had come to deliver breakfast. She trembled in fright, the

bamboo basket she'd held now lying on the ground, congee and pastries

spilled everywhere.

She trembled even more violently upon seeing Mo Ran standing in the

courtyard and reached behind her for something.

Mo Ran stepped forward without thinking. "No wait, it's not what—"

It was too late. She had activated the Seal of Imminent Crisis tattooed

on her lower back. The seal functioned as an urgent summons to the feathered

tribe, and in an instant, the people of the feathered tribe across Peach

Blossom Springs sprouted fiery wings and descended upon Campsis

Pavilion.

They were stunned by the sight that greeted them.

"A-Jie!"

"Jie—!"

After the initial shocked silence, they erupted in screams and wails.

The commotion drew cultivators as well. In an instant, shock and suspicion,

anger and grief surrounded Campsis Pavilion.

"Mo Ran! What defense could you possibly have at this point?!"

"Murderer! Lunatic!"

The gathered people of the feathered tribe were beyond furious as they

screamed and cried. "He has to pay with his life! Kill him! Kill him!"

It would have been a struggle for Mo Ran to defend himself even if he

had a hundred mouths to argue, and he only had the one. "If I really was the

killer, and I could kill all of them this easily, then why would I stay? To wait

to get caught?"

"You shut up!" spat a feathered tribe member with flame-red hair and a

tear-stained face. "Y-you've already gone this far, and you still, you still dare

to…"

"If you're not the killer, then why was everyone but you killed?"

someone else snarled.

"That's right!"

"Deceitful and treacherous!"

"Even if you aren't the killer, he's absolutely related to you! Why else

would he not kill you?! Huh?!"

"Blood for blood!"

Mo Ran was so mad that he wanted to laugh. He had slaughtered with

wanton abandon in his past life and hardly anyone had ever dared to say

something like "blood for blood" to him. Yet now, when he wasn't actually

the killer, he was being accused to the high heavens. This world was truly…

He closed his eyes for a moment and was about to say something when a

crimson light shot through the sky.

The Elder Immortal of the feathered tribe descended lightly from a

cloud and coldly scanned her surroundings, her expression exceedingly dark.

"Mo Weiyu."

"Elder Immortal."

The Elder Immortal stared him down for a while, then walked over to

one of the corpses and lifted the bloodstained willow vine wrapped around

its neck. "Where is your weapon? Take it out and show me."

Mo Ran was silent.

"Are you refusing?"

Mo Ran let out a sigh. His weapon was Jiangui. A large number of

people had already seen it during training, and a bunch more had seen it at

the site of Eighteen's murder. If he were to take it out now, it would be

compared with the willow vines around the necks of the murdered guards,

and doubtless it would be used to implicate him. But if he refused, it would

look like he had a guilty conscience.

A scarlet blaze appeared with a whoosh in his palm as Jiangui took

form, coursing with a fiery, crackling flare. "Feel free to look, Elder

Immortal."