>>blood and pain
Xue Meng raged skywards: "What kinda shitty god are you! You fuckin' blind? Where do you see us trespassing? We're the ones that got snatched, get your damn facts straight!"
Shi Mei said: "It's no use, he isn't actually here, this is just a voice he left behind. The fake Gouchen must have addled Zhaixin Liu's judgement, to make him see us as unscrupulous trespassers."
The voice continued:
"Those befitting of holy weapons ought to understand virtue and resolve as a matter of course, ought to be unsusceptible to the allure of fantastical illusions and capable of staying true to thy heart. Since thou hast come, thou must undertake my trial. If thou dost pass, I shall offer thee safe passage and a holy weapon. But if thou art selfish and faltering, then thou art unfit to be the master of a holy weapon!"
Chu Wanning uttered darkly between blood-stained lips: "Virtue…...is this so-called virtue of yours using someone as a blood hourglass?"
Of course he knew that Gouchen the Exalted couldn't actually hear, but even still, anger drove him to spit the words out, even if every utterance made him breathe harshly and pulled on his wounds, he just couldn't control that unrelenting mouth of his.
The voice, heedless, continued to reverberate in the arsenal: "As a test of thy temperament, all of ye shall be imminently submerged in Zhaixin Liu's dream illusion. If thou doth fail to wake from the illusion in time, thy companion shall bleed out and perish."
The color drained from all three of their faces at these words.
Shi Mei murmured: "What..."
So, in other words, the three of them were about to be plunged into an illusion.
And if they didn't manage to wake in time, then they would become eternally entranced within a wondrous dream, while Mo Ran bled out in reality?
Xue Meng was dumbstruck for a moment before bellowing furiously: "What kinda god even are you!!! If cultivating into an immortal means ending up like you, I won't deign to touch another sword for the rest of my life!!"
Chu Wanning also snapped: "What absurdity!"
"Shizun!" Shi Mei hurriedly tried to calm him, "Don't get angry, please mind your injury."
But Gouchen the Exalted, that bastard, chose this moment to start leisurely reciting poetry: "Water poured upon even ground doth stream each its own way. Life is predestined, even if thou doth sigh as thou walketh and brood as thou lieth. Fill thy cup as comfort, song interrupted by toast, yet the road remains ever arduous. The heart is not of wood or stone, how could it be unfeeling, words unspoken and steps untread, nothing left to say."
Xue Meng was seriously about to pass out from anger: "What the hell are you mumbling about!"
Shi Mei explained: "It's from Difficult Paths by Bao Zhao, the general meaning is that each person has their own fate, why wallow in remorse and drink for relief, the toast interrupting the song. Since people's hearts are not made of stone, it's impossible to have no feelings, and many things go unsaid."
Gouchen the Exalted let out a long sigh: "How many people in this vast world wouldst be willing to abandon a perfect dream just to save another? The world is filled with such incessant war and slaughter. If a holy weapon were to fall into unscrupulous hands, the fault would be mine, and how could I, the very creator of weapons, forgive myself for the sins of such..."
Suddenly, the holy weapon arsenal grew dim, and the tinkling parts flying through the air ceased all movement. A faint light came from above, as if the stars of a resplendent sky were slowly descending one by one, their light illuminating the ground.
An intangible voice in the air whispered: "Sleep..."
The softly translucent light seemed to have some kind of hypnotizing effect. Shi Mei and Xue Meng's cultivations were lower, and they quickly sank into slumber.
"Sleep..."
Chu Wanning gritted his teeth and stubbornly forced himself to resist, but the power of a founding god was insurmountable, and in the end he was ultimately unable to hold out against the lull, and fell into a dream as well.
Inside the holy weapon arsenal:
As the blood hourglass, Mo Ran was the only one still awake. Blood bubbled up when he coughed. Across the diminished waterfall, he could vaguely see the three trapped in dreams.
Chu Wanning, Shi Mei, and Xue Meng, all asleep.
He heard Gouchen's words, and knew that the only way to break the spell, and the only way for him to be saved, was for one of them to wake in time.
But the time inched past, his head grew dizzier and his body felt colder, and no one awoke.
Maybe what goes around comes around; this was how he treated Chu Wanning in the previous life, and now it was his turn to feel his blood draining away drop by drop.
How very laughable.
Amongst them, who could possibly abandon the best dream of their life, about the thing they most wanted to have, just to come save him?
Xue Meng definitely wouldn't.
Chu Wanning... nevermind, not gonna think about him.
If anyone, it should probably be Shi Mei.
He mused woozily, but he had already lost too much blood, and his hold on consciousness was beginning to slip.
Mo Ran lowered his head and looked down below his feet. The blood that had drained into the bottom of the copper hourglass mixed with the water inside, dying the gleaming liquid a faint red.
He suddenly wondered, if he also fell into Gouchen's illusion, what would he see?
Would he dream of delicate, translucent wontons, Shi Mei's gentle smile, Chu Wanning's praise and approval, and the sight when he first arrived at Sisheng Peak, of haitang flowers drifting across the sky, carried by the breeze...
"Mo Ran..."
He heard someone calling him.
Mo Ran's head remained drooping. He felt like he was about to pass out; maybe he was already hallucinating, hearing things.
"Mo Ran."
"Mo Ran!"
It wasn't a hallucination!
He abruptly lifted his head.
His pupils contracted at the sight that greeted him——
His voice was almost hoarse as he cried: "Shi Mei!!!!"
It was Shi Mei!
The one who woke up from the dream, who abandoned perfection and gave up happiness, who, even when everything was exactly as wished for, still remembered him.
Was Shi Mei...
Watching that fragile person cross the waterfall and walk toward him, Mo Ran suddenly felt himself choking up.
"Shi Mei…...you..."
He wasn't sure what to say. Mo Ran closed his eyes, voice hoarse.
"Thank you... even in a blissful dream, you still... still remembered me..."
Shi Mei waded through the water, his eyes and brows even more strikingly black against his soaked clothes. His looks were gentle like the first time Mo Ran had seen him, gentle like the countless dreams in which he had appeared in the previous lifetime, gentle like the way he remembered him when his whole body felt cold and he had naught else to reach for.
Shi Mei said: "Don't be silly, what're you thanking me for."
Only when he got close did Mo Ran notice that his feet were bleeding.
He didn't know when the ground had become scalding hot; Gouchen the Exalted seemed intent on testing just how far a person would be willing to go for their companion, and the allure of the dream was trailed by ruthless torment.
Shi Mei's boots had already been burnt through. If he didn't walk, the ground would stay as is, but if he insisted on walking forward, then every step would be accompanied by a surge of flames underfoot, not too hot as to directly render him unable to move, but enough to be searingly agonizing.
But that gentle person, himself clearly in pain, only glanced down once before his gaze grew even more unwavering and he walked toward Mo Ran, one foot in front of the other.
"Mo Ran, hold on just a little longer."
He said.
"I'll get you down from there."
Their eyes met, and Mo Ran knew there was no point in saying "don't come".
His gaze was far too determined, far too persistent.
He had never seen this kind of expression on Shi Mei's face before.
If Mo Ran was in a calmer state, he surely would have found it strange.
Shi Mei had always called him "A-Ran", when had he ever called him Mo Ran?
He was so fixated on Shi Mei's kindness to him that he altogether failed to realize that the person in front of him right now wasn't Shi Mei at all, but——
Chu Wanning.
The ancient willow's last technique was called Heart Pluck.
This so-called Heart Pluck was an exchange of the heart and spirit between two people.
When Chu Wanning broke free of the dream and woke up, he found that he had switched places with Shi Mei. Zhaixin Liu's magic had transferred his consciousness into Shi Mei's body, and likely vice versa. But Shi Mei remained asleep, and so had no idea that he had switched bodies.
Chu Wanning had no time to explain, and Mo Ran, completely unaware of the truth, thought that the person before him was really Shi Mei.
He firmly believed that Shi Mei would definitely endure the pain and make it to him, just like how he couldn't forget his kindness even through death. People were stubborn creatures.
But it was really too cruel.
When Chu Wanning finally arrived at the copper hourglass and started climbing up the towering vine toward Mo Ran, countless tiny, burning thorns suddenly sprouted from the vine.
Chu Wanning was caught off guard, hands burned and pierced all at once. He tried to grab on and keep climbing, but Shi Mei's body and cultivation were both weak, and the thorns sliced through the skin and flesh of his hands as he plummeted down the vine.
"...!"
Chu Wanning cursed under his breath, brows furrowed in pain.
This useless body of Shi Mingjing's!
Mo Ran: "Shi Mei!"
Chu Wanning tumbled to the ground on his knees, his skin instantly scalding where it touched the ground. Brows drawn tight, he bit down on his lip out of habit and refused to cry out.
This kind of expression would look stubborn and fierce on his own face, but on Shi Mei's gentle, beautiful face, was somehow only heart-rending instead.
He really couldn't compare, after all.
"Shi Mei..."
Mo Ran opened his mouth to speak, but tears rolled down instead.
His heart felt like it was being cut with knives. Through his blurry vision, he watched that thin and fragile body, that frail person, slowly, bit by bit, climbing up the vine.
The thorns pierced his hands, the flames burnt his flesh.
Everything was dyed scarlet, a trail of smeared bloodstains in his wake.
Mo Ran closed his eyes, blood bubbling up in his throat. He choked, and every word trembled:
"Shi... Mei..."
That person was close now. Mo Ran saw a brief flash of pain in his eyes; he really seemed to be in a lot of pain, even Mo Ran's voice seemed to be a kind of torment to him.
His expression was unwavering, but those eyes could almost be described as pleading.
"Don't call out to me anymore."
"..."
"Mo Ran, hold on just a bit more, I'm getting you...down…...from…...there..."
As he spoke, his eyes glinted with determination like the unsheathing of a blade, beautiful beyond words on that usually gentle face.
Chu Wanning's robes billowed as he leaped onto the copper hourglass.
His face was wan and he stood unsteadily, almost on the verge of collapse. Other than the rise and fall of his chest, he seemed little different from the dead.
In that moment, Mo Ran felt like it'd be better for him to just bleed out and die than for him to have to suffer like this.
Even his voice came out shattered: "I'm sorry."
Chu Wanning knew that this sorry wasn't for him. He wanted to explain, but, glancing at the Exalted Gouchen's silvery-blue sword protruding from Mo Ran's chest, the sword likely being the source of spiritual energy for the vines, he worried that Mo Ran might injure himself further from shock if he were to explain, and so he continued pretending to be his "Shi Mei", asking:
"Mo Ran, do you trust me?"
"I trust you." Without hesitation.
Chu Wanning shot him a glance from beneath his lashes and gripped the hilt; the sword was close to the main artery, the slightest slip could cost Mo Ran his life.
"..." Chu Wanning's hand trembled a little where it wrapped around the sword, and didn't move.
The rims of Mo Ran's eyes were still red, but he suddenly smiled: "Shi Mei."
"...Mn."
Mo Ran: "...Am I about to die?"
"...You won't."
"If I'm about to die, then, can I…...can I hold you?"
He said it so cautiously, his eyes glistening with wetness, that Chu Wanning's heart softened despite himself.
But, remembering that the person in Mo Ran's eyes was actually somebody else, that softness instantly froze over again.
He suddenly felt like the insignificant comic relief on the stage of a play, obscured behind the beautiful flowing sleeves of the female lead, going totally unnoticed.
In this touching and heartwarming narrative, he was unneeded, unwanted.
Or maybe his only use was to wear the ugly face of the clown, and, with an exaggerated smile painted on, act as a foil to the joys and sorrows, the love and hate of other people.
How very laughable.
But Mo Ran knew nothing of his thoughts. He saw the flicker in Chu Wanning's eyes and thought it was Shi Mei's unwillingness, and quickly said, "Just for a little while. A little while is enough."
A soft sigh, barely audible.
"Actually, I..."
Mo Ran: "What is it?"
"...Nevermind." Chu Wanning said, "It's nothing."
He leaned closer, but not too close for fear of accidentally bumping that sword, then he reached out and gently wrapped an arm around Mo Ran's shoulder.
He heard Mo Ran whispering by his ear: "Shi Mei, thank you for waking up, thank you for still remembering me even in that dream."
Chu Wanning looked down, eyelashes trembling like the fluttering of a butterfly's wings, then he smiled faintly: "Don't mention it."
A pause, then he said: "Mo Ran."
"Hm?"
Chu Wanning held him, caressing his hair, as if still in a dream, and sighed softly, "Did you know, the most wonderful dreams are rarely ever real?"
Then he pulled away, the hug briskly over like the light touch of a dragonfly on water.
Mo Ran looked up. He didn't really understand what Shi Mei meant; all he knew was that the brief hug was Shi Mei's kindness to him, a piece of candy given out of pity.
Sweet and sour, a hint of tartness against his tongue.
The instant that sword was pulled out, blood blossomed in the air like so many haitang flowers blown from the branches by a fierce gale.
A sharp agony ripped through Mo Ran's chest. He thought he was about to die, and everything he couldn't let go of flooded his thoughts at once. He suddenly blurted out: "Shi Mei, actually, I've always liked you. And you...?"
With the sound of the sword falling to the ground, the vines dissipated in an instant, the tumultuous downpour of water abruptly ceased, and the holy weapon arsenal returned to its former tranquility.
I've always liked you.
And you...?
Mo Ran's body had reached its limits, and darkness swept across his vision.
A pair of bloodstained hands caught him as he fell into Shi Mei's arms. He didn't know if he was seeing things, but Shi Mei's thin eyebrows were drawn together as he slowly closed his eyes, and a glistening wetness seemed to slide slowly down.
He seemed to hear Shi Mei softly whisper: "I as well."
Mo Ran: "!"
He must be seeing things, why else would Shi Mei look so miserable as he answered.
"I also…...like you."
Finally unable to hold out any longer, Mo Ran sunk into unconsciousness.