Their training began without delay. Mo Ran liked feather gathering most. After all, it wasn't like he'd actually expected to learn much
from these losers whom he had thoroughly trounced in his last life. Even so,
having the funds to indulge himself was where it was at.
Every day before the break of dawn, they went to the Ancestral Abyss
to loot golden feathers. Next up was meditation in Zhurong Cave to refine
cultivation by tempering their inner spiritual energy with the burning yang
energy of the cave. Four hours after that was demon suppression practice
with the feathered tribe. Another four hours of that, and they went to Asura
Arena to engage in practice matches against one another.
Finally, in the evening before night fell, Miss Eighteen would lecture
them on The Demon Compendium and The Art of Exorcism at the Stargazing
Cliffs of Peach Blossom Springs.
This nightly lesson was of course Mo Ran's favorite time of day
because that was the only lesson attended by cultivators from all three
specialized divisions. He knew that Shi Mei wasn't great at qinggong and
worried over whether he had enough to eat, so he made sure to give Shi Mei
half of his harvested feathers every day. Outside of that, they hardly had a
chance to interact. Instead Mo Ran spent every day with Chu Wanning, and
the two gradually became inseparable.
During this span of time, they could often be seen together, day in and
day out, rain or shine. Chu Wanning might be sitting on the railing of a bridge
playing a tune on a leaf with Mo Ran beside him, cheek propped up in one
hand, or Chu Wanning might be feeding fish by the river while Mo Ran stood
to the side holding an umbrella, watching the koi fish leap, their golden
scales glimmering against waters of clear jade.
When it rained at Peach Blossom Springs, Mo Ran would hold Chu
Wanning's hand while they walked along a limestone footpath, its flagstones
cracked from age, an oil-paper umbrella held evenly above them both. If the
rainwater began to collect on the ground, Mo Ran would pick up his little
shidi and carry him on his back, and the boy would cling quietly onto his
shoulders as the drops of rain pitter-pattered around them.
If the close contact got to be a bit too warm and sweat started to bead
on Mo Ran's forehead, the wordless shidi on his back would reach out and
wipe his sweat away with a handkerchief. The handkerchief was plain white
with a haitang flower sewn on a corner. Mo Ran kept thinking that it looked
familiar, as if he had seen it somewhere before, but the careless thought
would fly through his mind and soon be lost, like the drizzle of rain falling
into a deep pond.
One day, Chu Wanning was resting in the courtyard when Mo Ran
undid the boy's braid on a whim and tied his hair into a high ponytail instead.
He was halfway through brushing his little shidi's hair when Ye Wangxi
walked in while holding his left shoulder, expression gloomy.
Mo Ran, ever observant, raised his eyebrows slightly. "Did Ye-xiong
get injured?"
"Mn." Ye Wangxi paused, then furrowed his brows. "It's nothing, just
got grazed in a fight. But that guy is truly such a depraved lecher—how
despicable!"
Mo Ran sputtered in disbelief before eventually managing to ask, "Did
you get groped?"
"What exactly are you imagining?" Ye Wangxi asked harshly, glaring
daggers.
"Ha ha ha, just kidding." Mo Ran laughed awkwardly, but he couldn't
resist his own curiosity. "Who was it, though?"
"Who could it be but that flirt from Kunlun Taxue Palace?" Ye Wangxi
replied.
Mo Ran let out an, "ah," at these words. Could it be that guy?
Recently, he'd been coming across female disciples whispering
amongst themselves, saying, "Da-shixiong," this, and, "Da-shixiong," that. It
was one thing for the younger ones to go on like that, but just a day ago he'd
seen a forty- or fifty-year-old female cultivator in hysterics by the flower
bushes as she muttered with distant eyes, "Not a single man in this world
could even hope to hold a candle to Da-shixiong… If only he would look my
way, or even speak to me! I'd willingly go to hell with no regrets!"
Mo Ran had lost it right then and there and erupted in laughter at the
lovelorn display. He had a sneaking suspicion as to who this "Da-shixiong"
might be, but Peach Blossom Springs was full of cultivators who barely even
interacted with one another, so despite hearing this person mentioned time
and again, he had never seen the guy. He also had at least enough shame to
refrain from inserting himself into the gossip of female disciples, so he
couldn't be sure.
"I was having a drink at Spirit Lake Tavern in the western market," Ye
Wangxi said. "That bastard happened to be there, too, with a girl on each
arm. It was depraved, but that's their choice and none of my business, so I
couldn't exactly say anything."
"Makes sense," Mo Ran agreed.
"Then a female Guyueye disciple ran in, scanning the crowd with an
anxious expression. She was clearly looking for someone."
Mo Ran laughed. "Let me guess, she was after that 'Da-shixiong'?"
"You've heard of this da-shixiong too?"
"Ha ha, well, I mean, if even an upstanding individual like you has
heard tell of his philandering ways, how could a gossipy fellow like myself
not know?"
Ye Wangxi shot him a wordless glance, then continued. "That dashixiong is truly a piece of work. Turns out, the Guyueye girl came looking
because he had exchanged tokens of affection with her some days ago, saying
he would be her cultivation partner and stay by her side forever."
Mo Ran laughed again. "Yeah, that's bullshit. I bet Da-shixiong has
like seventeen replicas of that 'token of affection,' one for every girl he's
after. Probably spouts the same pledge of undying love word for word too."
Chu Wanning had been listening quietly, but now he glanced at Mo Ran
and said, disgruntled, "Of course you would know."
To his surprise, Ye Wangxi took Mo Ran's side. "Mo-xiong has the
right of it; that's exactly the case. That girl was a secret admirer of Da-
shixiong's to begin with, so she'd taken him at his word and given him her
virginity that very night."
"Aiyo!" Mo Ran hurriedly covered Chu Wanning's ears.
"What are you doing?" Chu Wanning asked, unfazed.
"Little ones can't listen to this sort of thing. It's bad for your
cultivation."
Chu Wanning gave him a withering look.
The second Mo Ran was sure that Chu Wanning's ears were firmly
covered, he asked, sparkles in his eyes, "And then?"
Ye Wangxi was a respectable individual; he had no idea that Mo Ran,
a rascal, was consuming his recount of righteous indignation like he would
some trashy romance. Thus he replied with an air of integrity, "What do you
think? Da-shixiong denied it, of course. He didn't even want to give her the
time of day, let alone have some words. The girl produced the sword tassel
he'd given her as a token, but to her surprise, the two girls on Da-shixiong's
arms each pulled out their own. They said that he gives one to every friend,
and that it wasn't something reserved for a cultivation partner."
"Tsk, tsk, that's shameless all right."
"Right? I couldn't just sit and watch, so I went over to have a word
with him." Ye Wangxi's expression shifted slightly, and there was a pause
before he continued. "The talk went nowhere, so we ended up fighting."
Mo Ran smiled. "I see."
In actuality, he suspected that this probably wasn't the whole story. If
this "Da-shixiong" was indeed the person that Mo Ran suspected, then he
didn't have the sort of personality that would lead him come to blows over
something like this. Ye Wangxi had likely omitted details out of
embarrassment.
However, since Ye Wangxi didn't elaborate, Mo Ran didn't press the
issue and changed the topic. "That da-shixiong must be pretty good in a fight,
then. I can't imagine just any random person being able to land a hit on Yexiong."
That was evidently the wrong thing to say, as it only seemed to make
Ye Wangxi even more displeased. Fury flickered like a wildfire in those dark
eyes. "Pretty good? Yeah right," Ye Wangxi said with indignation. "He
couldn't get any more mediocre. The women did all the fighting for him.
What a good-for-nothing!"
"Ah? Ha ha ha ha ha." Mo Ran took a closer look at Ye Wangxi and
found that, aside from the sword wound on his shoulder, there were a couple
of bloody scratches on his cheek that had obviously come from a woman's
nails. He almost fell over laughing. "Da-shixiong sure does live up to his
reputation, ha ha ha ha."
Chu Wanning said nothing. He seemed to have been pondering
something ever since Ye Wangxi said, "the talk went nowhere, so we ended
up fighting." He waited until Ye Wangxi left to bandage his wounds in his
residence before saying, "Mo Ran."
Mo Ran bopped his head. "Call me Shixiong."
After a long, dignified silence, Chu Wanning continued. "This dashixiong, is it Mei Hanxue?"
"That's what I suspect," Mo Ran said with a grin.
Chu Wanning fell silent again, deep in thought. Then, as if suddenly
coming to a realization, his eyes opened wide: "Could it be that Ye Wangxi
got—"
"Shh! Quiet!" Mo Ran raised a finger to his lips in a hushing gesture,
then crouched down to Chu Wanning's height, smiling. "Aren't you a little too
young to be thinking about that stuff?"
"I've often heard that this Mei Hanxue person is very…
unconventional. That he's done all sorts of preposterous things. To think that
he'd dare have a go at a disciple of Rufeng Sect…"
Mo Ran laughed. "Ha ha ha, unconventional is one way to put it.
Anyway, let's stay out of other people's business. Here, let Shixiong finish
putting your hair up. I saw a pretty hair clasp while I was out on the west
street earlier, and it wasn't too pricey either, so I grabbed it. Let's have you
try it on."
Just as Mo Ran didn't care for Chu Wanning's taste, Chu Wanning was
less than impressed with Mo Ran's. He stared silently at the overly vibrant
and honestly gaudy hair clasp, which was decorated with golden orchids and
butterflies. "Are you sure that's for me?"
"Yep! Little kids should wear lively colors like red and gold."
Chu Wanning continued to stare in mute horror and fascination. He
sincerely didn't want it, but when he thought about it, this was the first time
that Mo Ran had ever given him something. He closed his mouth and said
nothing, face full of gloom as Mo Ran fastened the clasp to his ponytail. The
golden orchids and butterflies glimmered garishly against his long, inky hair.
Chu Wanning lowered his lashes. Suddenly he felt that this wasn't bad.
This kind of color, this kind of Mo Ran, this kind of himself. If he was in his
true form, none of this would have happened.
It was as if the butterflies had come from a dream.
The clouds overhead shifted and colored as sun and moon chased one
another across the sky. Half a year of training at Peach Blossom Springs flew
by in the blink of an eye. Miss Eighteen had said that they would be tested at
the half-year mark to gauge their progress.
"This will be your first test since coming here," Eighteen announced
gracefully to the assembly. "The content of the trial will differ depending on
your division, with three different disaster scenarios. Those of you in the
Defense Division will enter the Domain of Blood River, those in the Healing
Division will enter the Domain of Great Sorrows, and those in the Attack
Division will enter the Domain of Fiends.
"Each of these three scenarios will unfold in an illusory realm that has
been constructed using memories of the ghost realm invasion hundreds of
years ago. You will be in no danger while within them, and you will be
returned here once you have resolved the crisis therein.
"Up to two people may enter an illusory realm at a time. In other
words, you may face the challenge alone or invite one other person to
accompany you. As for the order of testing, that will be announced by the
envoys anon."
The assembly was dismissed, and the tests began. Mo Ran didn't know
how things were going over in the Defense and Healing Divisions, but at
least for the Attack Division, half a dozen people had already gone through it
and had all done pretty well. It seemed the trial wasn't too hard.
Ten days later, it was Mo Ran's turn.
Eighteen was in charge of the Attack Division, and she smiled as she
asked, "Will Mo-xianjun be going with a partner?"
Mo Ran thought about it. "If I choose someone to go with me, would
they be exempt from going through the trial again?"
"Of course."
"Then I'll bring my shidi." Mo Ran pointed at Chu Wanning. "He's
still young, so I'll worry if he goes it alone."
The moon hung bright overhead as they followed Eighteen to a pitchblack cave. A thin layer of reddish-gold mist covered the entrance.
"Please listen well," said Eighteen. "The scene within the Domain of
Fiends is one from the calamity two hundred years ago: the first rupture of
the ghost realm barrier. Because the barrier could not be repaired in time, a
mass of vengeful ghosts and malicious spirits escaped into the mortal realm
and slaughtered countless living beings. This illusory realm is an emulation
of the event based on the memories of a survivor from Lin'an during that
time. Stepping into this cave will bring you to the battle-torn Lin'an City of
two centuries ago. Slay the ghost king leading the army and the illusion will
dissipate on its own."
Mo Ran glanced at Chu Wanning, then turned to smile at Eighteen. "Big
sis, I'm sturdy, so it's whatever. But my shidi is only six, and swords don't
have eyes. What if he gets injured?"
"There is no need to fear. The weapons inside the illusion will bring
you no true harm," Eighteen explained. "Any injuries you sustain will be
marked with a spiritual signifier and nothing more. However, if you are
marked in a vital area representing a fatal injury, you will fail the trial."
Relieved, Mo Ran clasped his hands together and grinned. "I see.
Thank you for the kind consideration."
And so, Mo Ran and Chu Wanning headed into the test without fear.
The cave was pitch-black. Setting foot within it felt like missing a step; it
was as if their bodies were abruptly suspended in midair. This sensation was
immediately followed by a series of blurry images that flashed before their
eyes. A legion of contorted faces flowed together into a river passing below
them.
When their feet landed back on solid ground, they found themselves
transported to ancient Lin'an, on a road at the outskirts of the city. The noon
sun blazed above, and a putrid smell filled the air.
The sight of old Lin'an City of two hundred years past—plagued
nightly by hordes of ghosts and accompanied by the heavy stench of rotting
flesh—unfolded slowly before their eyes like a weathered scroll scorched by
the flames of war.