The little dragon left and returned like the wind, zooming back
through the window only ten minutes later to holler, "I got it, I got it! So many
magic traces in this inn, wa ha ha ha!"
"Hey li'l eel, what are you, afraid the neighbors won't hear? Yell
louder." Leaning on the table, Mo Ran extended a finger and stroked the little
dragon's body. Its tail swung over with a whoosh to smack his hand, but it
didn't remotely hurt. Rather, it tickled—it was made of paper, after all.
"Don't touch this venerable one, you annoying pretty boy! This
venerable one has yet to take a wife. Can't just let you cop a feel whenever
you like!"
Mo Ran broke out into laughter. "Wait, what was that? This paper
dragon wants a wife?"
"What! Puh, puh, puh! Who're you calling paper?! You damn mutt!"
"Huh, how come even you call me that? Is your surname Xue or
something?"
"Xue? Hmph, idiot brat. This venerable one is the Dragon of the
Candle, mighty and unmatched, splitting the heavens and cleaving the earth,
day and night as I open and close mine eyes, summer and winter with each
draw of mine breath! My name is Zhu Jiuyin, and don't you forget it!"
"Yeeeah, didn't get a word of that."
"Wa ya ya ya!" The little dragon turned cartwheels of anger, smashing
into the candlestick with its little two-finger-wide head, which made the
flame flicker and the wax sway. Mo Ran hurriedly steadied the candle, but as
soon as he reached out, the little dragon bit his hand—not that it felt like
much of anything, being paper and all. Mo Ran picked up Zhu Jiuyin by the
tail and flung it to the side, making it splat against the collar of Chu
Wanning's robes and droop glumly there.
"Chu Wanning." The little dragon lifted one of its whiskies and
prodded him weakly. "That mangy mutt hit me."
Chu Wanning didn't feel like wasting his breath on this. He peeled the
dragon off himself and casually slapped it onto the table. "What spells did
you find?"
"Hmph, hmph. You gotta call this venerable one 'Dragon-taizi' three
times first, then—"
Chu Wanning pinned it with a cold glare. "Speak."
The little dragon fell silent, but it bloated with anger at the disrespect,
its whiskers pointing straight up as it glared at Chu Wanning with beady little
eyes. That venerable mouth hung half-open, huffing and puffing until it heaved
up a gush of ink.
Chu Wanning narrowed his eyes. "Waste any more ink and I will set
you on fire." He reached for the dragon's tail as if to dangle it over the flame.
"Then you'll be a real candle dragon."
"All right, all right, all right! You win! You win! I'll tell you! I'll tell
you, all right? Jeez!" The little dragon spit a couple more times, sending
more ink splattering while muttering not at all discreetly, "So damn mean. No
wonder I never see any wife, even after all these years!"
"Eh?" Mo Ran blinked and snuck a glance at Chu Wanning, grinning
cheekily. "Didn't Shizun say something about a shiniang?"
Chu Wanning ignored him, sword brows lowering as he snapped at the
little dragon, "Less talking, more writing!"
"Hmph! Stinky man!"
The little dragon plopped onto the writing paper laid out on the table
and used magic to gather ink in its claw. It began to scrawl messily on the
page, muttering the whole time.
Alas, it couldn't simply name the spells that it had seen—there was a
limit to how much information a paper brain could process, after all. It
would have been too much to expect it to figure out what the spells were,
based on leftover magical traces, so it could only draw out its impressions.
Luckily, Chu Wanning was more than capable of discerning the original
spells. He watched the little dragon scrawl away with lowered lashes and
named them as it went.
The little dragon drew a waning moon.
"Soothing spell. Someone here has insomnia."
The little dragon drew the seven stars of the Big Dipper.
"Celestial bastion array. Someone has set up defenses."
The little dragon drew a rouge box.
"Radiant countenance spell…"
"Pfft." Mo Ran laughed, raising his hand. "I know this one! A simple
beautification and skin care incantation that girls use at night. Probably that
Butterfly-Boned Beauty Feast?"
Chu Wanning didn't comment. He seemed a bit agitated that every
spell thus far had been irrelevant or inconsequential. Furrowing his brows,
he tapped a slender finger against the table. "Next."
The little dragon drew a heart.
"What's this?" Mo Ran wondered.
"Heart-clearing spell," Chu Wanning said, frustrated. "It's
unimportant. Someone's meditating is all. Next."
The little dragon drew a crooked dog head.
"Beast-taming spell…" Chu Wanning put a hand to his brow. "You.
Pick the important spells and draw those. Skip the trivial ones for cosmetics
and playing with dogs and helping people sleep and whatnot. Next."
The little dragon looked up and fumed. "Well, aren't you picky!"
"Draw!"
Fearful of getting tossed into the candle flame and really living up to
its name, the wee paper beast huffily wiped its tiny claws across the paper
again. This time it drew an extremely complex, mysterious-looking array.
"Looks like two circles with a cross, and then a vertical line straight
down. Some kind of yin-yang divination looking thing?" Mo Ran's eyes
widened, "Shizun, could this be what our guy put on the weapon?"
"No." Chu Wanning took a single glance and could already feel a
headache coming on. "Voice-changing spell."
"Oh? What's it for?"
"Some people want to change their voice, either because they dislike it
or out of some other necessity. This sound-changing spell lets them do that.
It's not difficult." Chu Wanning paused. "However, it damages the throat if
used for an extended period of time, to the point that it can become very
difficult to recover one's original voice… There's something unusual about
this one; I wonder who's using it."
Mo Ran only grinned. "Ah, so that's what it's for. Makes sense, then."
Chu Wanning sighed and was about to move on when he paused, eyes
flickering as he realized something. He turned abruptly to Mo Ran. "What do
you mean it 'makes sense'? Do you know something?"
"What could I possibly know? I was just thinking that it's pretty
normal for someone to dislike their voice. Who knows, maybe it's that Song
girl. Maybe her voice is actually hoarse and grating, and she wanted to make
it sound sweeter?"
Chu Wanning gave him a long look before smoothing down his sleeve.
"Always thinking such nonsense." Then he turned back to the little dragon.
"Next."
The little dragon drew another heart.
"Oi, didn't Shizun just tell you to skip things like heart-clearing
spells?"
"Puh, what do you know, brat?" The little dragon shot him a seething
glare, then smacked its tail on the paper, putting an inky blotch on the heart
and proceeding to spread it around until the entire shape was colored black.
"What's this? Black-hearted spell?"
Chu Wanning grew a little awkward and was silent for a while before
saying, "No. That would be an affection spell."
"What's that?"
"It's similar to the Xuanyuan Pavilion's Infatuation Pills," Chu
Wanning explained. "It bewitches a person to develop feelings of love and
affection toward the caster, things like that. Generally used by women."
Mo Ran's eyes widened again. "No way. Could it be that Song
Qiutong…"
"How would I know about such things?" Chu Wanning seemed irate,
flicking his broad sleeve. "Other people's love affairs are none of my
business. Why would I care who's messing around with whom?"
"But Chu Wanning, ah, are you sure you don't care about this affection
spell?" the little dragon said gleefully, tail swaying this way and that. "This
one's pretty interesting, if you ask me. If you're willing to call me 'Dragontaizi' three times, then I'll…"
Chu Wanning gazed down at it with murder in his eyes. "Shut up and
draw the next one."
"Hmph! You'll regret this!"
"Are you going to draw or not?"
However, the little dragon stopped drawing, sitting down with a plop
and scratching its belly with its tiny claw.
"What, out of ink?" Chu Wanning said coldly.
"Idiot. Out of spells." The little dragon rolled its eyes. "I've drawn so
many already, and it's still not enough for you? There's no more, that's all
there is—aside from these, this inn is perfectly clean."
Chu Wanning and Mo Ran's expressions shifted slightly.
"That's it?" asked Mo Ran.
"That's it."
"There isn't one for assessing spiritual roots?" Chu Wanning asked.
"Nope."
Master and disciple exchanged a glance, disbelief written on their
faces. If this mysterious person had been using the auction to find another
elemental spiritual essence, then he had to have put some kind of assessment
spell on the holy weapon. Only now it appeared that no spell had been cast
on the weapon at all. Were they mistaken? Did the long blade's appearance
have nothing to do with the man they were hunting?
The little dragon noted their silence and soared into the air, flying
around back and forth as it whined. "Oi, pay attention to this venerable one.
Drawing is exhausting, you know! Where's this venerable one's round of
applause?"
Chu Wanning was already irritated to begin with. When it hollered, he
simply lifted a hand with a sweep of his sleeve and summoned a yellow
talisman in the air. The little dragon shrieked miserably at the sight of it. "I
don't wanna, I don't wanna, I don't wanna, I don't wanna!"
Nevertheless, it was sucked into the talisman and turned back into a
drawing. A tap of Chu Wanning's fingertip, and the drawing itself slowly
faded away. Even as the dragon disappeared, it kept narrowing its eyes in
affront at Chu Wanning.
"I'll call you when you're needed," said Chu Wanning.
Tears streamed down the little dragon's face. "You only ever
remember me when you need me! You're so heartless, Chu Wanning…"
"Get lost already!" Chu Wanning had at first retained civility, but at
these words, his brows dipped in anger, and he folded the talisman flat in
half with an unceremonious slap before tucking it back into his sleeve.
Nightfall. Chu Wanning slept on the bed and Mo Ran took the floor,
both troubled with their worries.
They hadn't expected the holy weapon to be free of any spells
whatsoever. Did the mysterious man have some way of gauging spiritual
roots that they didn't know? Or was he not in a hurry to find a replacement
with strong spiritual energy?
"Mo Ran," Chu Wanning called in the darkness.
"Hm?" Mo Ran responded reflexively.
"Let's go back to Sisheng Peak tomorrow."
Mo Ran's eyes opened. "Huh?"
"If that man would let an opportunity like the Xuanyuan auction slip
past, then he probably has some other means of searching out his quarry. I'm
afraid we won't find out much carrying on like this. So let's go back to
Sisheng Peak. I'll have the sect leader secretly tell the other nine great sects
to check for any spiritual essences within their own sects, and to safeguard
any they find. It'll be better than sitting on our hands hoping he happens to
show up."
"Will that be okay? What if the guy we're after is one of the sect
leaders?"
"That's very unlikely, but even if he is, it won't matter. He already
knows we're after him."
"How will Shizun make all those sect leaders listen to Uncle?" Mo
Ran asked, puzzled. "Tell them everything?"
"That won't be necessary. They might not believe it anyway," Chu
Wanning replied mildly. "But I have my ways."
"Such as?"
"I'll take disciples."
Mo Ran jerked his head up, alarmed.
"I'll have the sect leader tell the other sects that the frequent breaches
in the ghost realm barrier pose a great danger to us all," Chu Wanning said
quietly. "As such, Yuheng of Sisheng Peak intends to accept up to five
additional disciples to train in the use of techniques such as the Shangqing
Barrier and the Shisha Barrier. The other sects have tried time and again to
invite me to teach, specifically because of these barrier techniques. If I put
out the word that I'm willing to impart them, they'll come. And, since I
accept only those with outstanding spiritual foundation, they'll have to test all
of their disciples to select the candidates, thereby fulfilling our goal."
Mo Ran didn't reply, his face going pale in the darkness. "Y-you're
going to take more disciples?"
"If fate decrees it." Chu Wanning rolled over, his voice quieting as if
he was getting tired. "I'll take the names of the candidates and have them
practice standard barrier techniques by themselves first. If any among them
manage to persevere for three years or so, then why not?"
In the darkness, Mo Ran listened to the voice from the bed slowly
drifting off. He felt like a jar of vinegar had been spilled in his chest, so sour
it made his heart ache. Take on more disciples?
You only ever took three in your last life, picky as you are. How come
you're not being picky now? How could you take on more disciples just
like that?!
Mo Ran kept wanting to say something, but every time the words
reached his lips, they never made it past.
Chu Wanning fell asleep, blissfully unaware of the sea of jealousy
raging within Mo Ran.
It was cold at night. Mo Ran pulled on an outer garment and got up. He
called to Chu Wanning in a low voice a couple times to ensure he was really
asleep, then quietly opened the door and snuck out of the room.
The halls of the inn were still and silent. A few red silk lanterns
glowed peacefully with a low light, gentle circles of orange reflecting on the
wooden floor like so many ripples.
Chu Wanning might already have tested the holy weapon, but Mo Ran
had yet to test Bugui.
A holy weapon within a hundred feet of its master could be summoned
to their side with a simple spell. At Xuanyuan Pavilion, Mo Ran hadn't had a
chance to check if this blade really was his weapon from his past life. How
could he possibly miss this chance now?
Mo Ran's fingertip glowed with a crimson light. Lowering his
eyelashes, he said in a quiet voice, "Bugui, come!"
For a few moments, there was nothing but silence. Suddenly, the
muffled sound of a blade rang out from somewhere in the distance. The sound
was barely audible, but it reverberated in his ears, and his heart hammered.
Mo Ran's eyes shot open. "Bugui!"
It was Bugui. The long blade was struggling, crying blood, its deep
roar racing to him across sanguine oceans, across lifetimes. It was as if he
could hear Bugui weeping and wailing for him. However, it was trapped,
confined by something Mo Ran knew naught of.
It could feel its master's call but could not answer. There was
something missing—something that had severed their connection.
They'd once had a pact, had once seen the beautiful sights from the
tallest mountains together, had once waited for death side by side in the last
remaining bit of warmth in Wushan Palace. Something was forcing them
apart, but still their bond remained, like a tendon linking torn flesh.
Mo Ran's eyes were red and welling with tears as he whispered,
"Bugui…"
It's you. Why can't you return to my side? Who's stopping you?
Who…
Creak.
The quiet sound of a door opening. In this suffocating darkness, it was
as loud as crashing thunder.