The ludictous thought made Mo Ran see red. Reason had left
him. He shook uncontrollably as his hand tightened around Chu Wanning's
throat, pressing for a response with a deep-voiced roar.
If Chu Wanning said the rest of it—if he said, "in life or in death,"—
then there could be no doubt… No doubt…
"Ngh!"
A stifled groan by his ear. Chu Wanning couldn't breathe. His face
flushed from the lack of air as his struggles weakened.
Mo Ran stilled, madness and clarity chasing one another across his
red-tinted, wide-open eyes—before he snapped out of it and hastily let go.
Chu Wanning slumped heavily back onto the bed. The five stark stripes of
finger-shaped bruises against his neck gradually returned Mo Ran to his
senses.
He opened his mouth, wanting to say, "Shizun," but it wouldn't come
out. He tried to say, "Chu Wanning," but his voice failed him there, too, until
finally, hesitantly, he uttered hoarsely, "You…"
Mo Ran's throat was parched, as if it had been scorched by fire. He
swallowed with difficulty while retrieving the scattered pieces of his
rationality. Scenes from the days prior flashed before his eyes:
In this lifetime, Chu Wanning had never behaved strangely. There was no way
he could have been reborn.
Then why had he said those words? His dying words from their past
life: "It was I who wronged you"? Why now, at this time?
Hadn't Chu Wanning only uttered those words to save Xue Meng? To
save those sanctimonious cultivators? Weren't they empty words that he had
said merely because he had no other choice?
Mo Ran had never believed—had never wanted to believe—that Chu
Wanning would genuinely admit his wrongdoings to his face. That he would
actually say something softly compassionate to him. No matter what, Chu
Wanning had obviously been lying. He obviously detested Mo Ran. No
matter what, his shizun had always looked down on him—had never treated
him with sincerity.
Mo Ran didn't regret killing him at all. He didn't regret…
Mo Ran turned away, slowly closing his eyes. He didn't want to stay
here a single second longer. What did it matter to him if Chu Wanning lived
or died?!
He turned to leave. He wanted to leave. His feet refused to move.
It was I who wronged you.
In his memories, in the end, that cold, handsome face had looked gentle
even when covered in blood. At the edge of Kunlun's Heavenly Lake, this
man had lain in a pool of blood and slowly lifted a hand to poke Mo Ran's
forehead. His fingers had been cold as ice, yet there had been warmth in his
phoenix eyes.
Mo Ran had been sure, back then, that he was only seeing things.
I won't blame you, in life or in death, Chu Wanning had whispered,
even as a trail of blood dripped slowly from his eyes.
"Mo Ran…"
The man on the bed murmured in his dream. Just two quiet syllables,
and the one he called to began to tremble all over. By the time Mo Ran
realized what was happening, he was standing at the bedside, one hand
braced against the headboard as he leaned over Chu Wanning, staring fixedly
at his pale face.
Those thin, lightly colored lips opened slightly to say again:
"Mo Ran…"
Closing his eyes, Mo Ran drew his brows tightly together as his
fingers dug into the cold, hard surface of the quince wood,
as if he was striving to restrain something. Ultimately, he couldn't, and it
came out in a raw whisper. "Chu Wanning, did you mean it? Everything that
you said, did you mean it all?"
His chest hurt so terribly that it felt like it might explode. There was no
way Chu Wanning had also been reborn. If he was saying these words now, it
could only mean that, at this point in time, in his heart, he already felt
remorse for how he'd treated Mo Ran.
Did he mean it?
Chu Wanning was only talking in his sleep, so of course he didn't
answer. Even so, Mo Ran waited and wished for one.
No response. For a long while, he waited with his eyes closed, but
there was only silence.
Mo Ran sighed quietly and reluctantly opened his eyes, only to be met
unexpectedly by a pair of hazy, half-lidded phoenix eyes, caught between
wakefulness and slumber.
He didn't know when Chu Wanning had raised his lids, but it was
clear from his expression that he wasn't truly awake and aware. This was
only a momentary stirring between bouts of torment. That pair of eyes the
color of the night sky were vacant and glazed, as if they held eternity.
Yuheng of the Night Sky was always lightning sharp. He rarely looked
so disoriented. Without his habitual keen edges, the man lying there looked
unexpectedly beautiful. The corners of his eyes were tinged with a faint red
as he gazed at Mo Ran, unguarded.
Mo Ran felt a violent tremor in his heart and a tightness in his throat.
Voice low, he murmured, "You…"
Chu Wanning looked much too like he had when they made love in
their past life. Something stirred inside Mo Ran, and for a moment he felt as
if he was still at Wushan Palace and Chu Wanning was his prisoner, his
personal plaything. The thought made his mouth dry and his breaths grow
heavy.
I can't… I don't like him. Don't touch him anymore. The sins of a
bygone life are sins of the past. In this life, we're nothing more than master
and disciple.
And so Mo Ran stayed as he was, looking down at Chu Wanning with
one hand braced against the headboard, preventing himself from crossing that
line. His hair pooled over his shoulder from where it was tied in a ponytail,
the tips brushing the pillow.
Chu Wanning lay there, fully dressed, his long hair spread loosely
about him. At first, his expression was dazed and insensate, and some time
passed before Mo Ran's reflection slowly appeared in his eyes. Chu
Wanning hesitated. Then, as if still caught in the clutches of his nightmare,
unable to discern when and where he was, he slowly reached out with a hand
that for a moment paused in midair, and at last touched Mo Ran's brow.
"It was I who wronged you…" He spoke the words with an
uncharacteristic gentleness, the way he had in their past life.
Something inside Mo Ran collapsed with a resonant boom. Blood
boiling and head feverish, all the sense and rationality he had worked so hard
to retrieve fell apart in an instant. Without thinking about any of it, he gave in
to that familiar desire. He leaned down and ravenously captured those
slightly parted lips with his own.
The past came crashing back in a wave, melting their surroundings
away like snow and frost. Mo Ran felt as if he were back at Wushan Palace
amidst silky red satin, illuminated by the light of candles gilded with dragon
and phoenix. Beneath that crimson drapery, this man was struggling and
spitting curses, panting and humiliated yet unable to escape, helpless against
his unyielding grasp.
"Nn…"
The noise that Chu Wanning let out between the slides of warm
wetness drove Mo Ran mad. All those words about not liking him, hating
him, and never touching him again, all of them vaporized into thin air.
Mo Ran felt as if he had never yet died—that the lightly quivering
body beneath his still belonged to him. He wanted to kiss Chu Wanning, to
hold him, to humiliate and torment him until this lofty, immaculate man was
unable to take it anymore. Until he was crying and begging, fucked into
oblivion.
"Chu Wanning…" Mo Ran murmured hoarsely. A wave of heat rolled
through him, washing over his very soul. Even the tips of his fingers felt like
they had caught flame.
Once again, he closed his lips over that cool, soft pair, which still
tasted slightly of the bitter medicine. The beating of his heart was like the
thunder of drums inside his chest as he kissed with abandon, mad with
desire. Mo Ran knew this person through and through. Since his rebirth, he
had been loath to be intimate with Chu Wanning because of the resentment he
harbored toward him, but kissing him now was pure ecstasy.
It was a high so intense that it ate away at him, like the first taste of
sweet dew on the tongue of a traveler dying of thirst in the desert, like being
enveloped in the soft warmth of a fur coat heated over a fire in the bitter cold
of a freezing night.
Mo Ran had thought that he would surely have nothing to do with Chu
Wanning in this reborn life. He hadn't expected to ultimately succumb to his
desires, to be driven to lose control after a mere few words, to kiss him like
this.
If it were not for the fact that he couldn't get Chu Wanning's robes
open—and in trying to do so was pricked by something that fell out of his
shizun's robes—Mo Ran might have given in and taken Chu Wanning right
then and there without any thought, consequences be damned.
Clang!
Something metallic pricked Mo Ran's finger and fell on the bed. It
rolled a little before coming to a stop.
Mo Ran was far too turned on to mind the scratch. He only threw an
irritated glare at the object before turning back to Chu Wanning's ridiculous
robes. It was one thing when he kept his distance and didn't touch him, but
now that he was on top of his shizun, the feelings from his past life came
rushing back. The mere thought of how Chu Wanning's smooth, narrow waist
had felt under his hands made him unbearably hot and heavy.
But Chu Wanning's silken white robes were impossible to remove,
almost like they had been enchanted with some kind of spell. Mo Ran cursed
under his breath and slammed his fist against the headboard before
resentfully climbing off the bed to go fetch his blade. He would make short
work of that thrice-wrapped belt sash.
As he sat up, he saw the fallen metallic object out of the corner of his
eye. He didn't pay it any mind at first, but then a bolt of clarity flashed
through his arousal-addled mind.
Mo Ran stilled. His head snapped around to take another look at that
thing.
It was a golden hair clasp, vibrantly colorful and decorated with
orchids and butterflies—the very same one that he had bought for Xia Sini at
Peach Blossom Springs after days of saving up feathers.
He had personally pinned it to Xia Sini's ponytail to cheer up his
sullen little shidi, saying, "Little kids should wear lively colors like red and
gold."
Mo Ran picked up the hair clasp. He stared at it in a stupor, feeling
like he had been doused with cold water. Hang on… What did this mean?
Why would Chu Wanning have something that Mo Ran had given to Xia Sini?
Could it be…
A frightening thought crossed Mo Ran's mind. He turned around
slowly, and his gaze, still dark with desire, landed on Chu Wanning. His
shizun had passed out again. Mo Ran stared at his face, taking in those lips
reddened from his kisses, and his heart skipped a few beats.
No way, absolutely not. He had to be out of his mind… Was Chu
Wanning not just messing with him? Was… Was…Xia Sini seriously Chu
Wanning's son?
Mo Ran shuddered at the thought. His head was about to explode!