The end of the Yuheng Elder's seclusion was naturally a cause for
celebration for the entire sect. Xue Zhengyong knew Chu Wanning disliked
the bustle of gatherings and wasn't much for speeches, so he'd planned out
for him ahead of time what to say and what to do.
Chu Wanning had been concerned that he might be awkward at the
banquet, but he soon found out that he had no reason to worry. Xue
Zhengyong might've been a big, burly man, but he was keenly perceptive
and had a good grasp of the mood. Before the gathered mass of all the
elders and disciples, he spoke some words from the bottom of his heart—
not so much as to be maudlin, but enough to be genuinely moving.
Only the Lucun Elder couldn't read the room, laughing as he shouted:
"Yuheng, why the long face on this happy occasion? You should say a few
words too! Some of the new disciples here don't even know what you look
like."
Xue Zhengyong tried valiantly to save him. "Lucun, I've already said
all there is to say for Yuheng. Don't put him on the spot."
"That's different; he's gotta put in at least a couple of words."
"But he—"
"It's fine." A deep, cool voice cut in. "Since there are new disciples
here, I'll say a few words." Chu Wanning stood as he spoke. His eyes
scanned Mengpo Hall, taking in the lively crowd of thousands all looking at
him.
But Mo Ran wasn't among them.
Chu Wanning thought for a moment, then said, "The Red Lotus
Pavilion on the southern summit is equipped with myriad defensive
mechanisms and mechanical guardians. In the interest of preventing
accidental injuries, new disciples are advised against visiting without
cause."
The crowd fell silent.
After an incredulous pause, Lucun couldn't help but ask, "That's it?"
"That's it," replied Chu Wanning. He lowered his eyes and swept his
sleeves aside to sit back down.
The silence stretched. The new disciples were dubious: dying and
then coming back to life after five years of seclusion was definitely not
something most people would ever experience. Shouldn't one at least say
something heartfelt, or express some gratitude to one's savior, things like
that? Yet this elder just tossed out a line like he was reading out the tenets
and left it at this. Where was the sincerity?
But the older disciples couldn't help laughing quietly, several of them
whispering to each other, "That's the Yuheng Elder, all right."
"Still doesn't like talking."
"Pfft, seriously. Bad temper and short fuse. He's got a handsome face,
but that's about it," someone quipped under the ebb and flow of chatter in
the hall. They were far enough away that Chu Wanning wouldn't hear. The
group chuckled amongst themselves, then turned to look toward that whiterobed man sitting beside Xue Zhengyong.
The banquet began. There were spicy and savory Sichuan dishes, of
course, but also plenty of finely made desserts and beautifully arranged,
mild and sweet Jiangnan dishes, their abundance filling entire tables. Xue
Zhengyong had also opened a hundred or more jars of top-quality pear
blossom white wine to share between the tables, and cups were generously
filled with the amber-colored liquor. Chu Wanning was on his fourth stewed
crab meatball when a large bowl was set before him with a clunk. "Yuheng!
Let's have a cup!"
Chu Wanning eyed the bowl, then Xue Zhengyong. "That's a bowl."
"Aiya, who cares if it's a cup or a bowl, just drink it! It's your
favorite, pear blossom white!" Xue Zhengyong's bold features were
practically glowing with joy in the convivial atmosphere. "I know how
much you can drink! A thousand cups won't even get you tipsy! C'mon,
cheers!"
Chu Wanning smiled and picked up the bowl, clinking it against Xue
Zhengyong's. "If the Sect Leader says so, then cheers."
With that, he drained the entire bowl before flipping it over to show
Xue Zhengyong.
Xue Zhengyong was overjoyed, but the rims of his eyes had turned a
little red. "That's my man! I remember, five years ago, you asked me for a
jar of top-quality pear blossom white from the cellar and I wouldn't give it
to you. After what happened, I couldn't regret it enough; I thought I'd
never…never get to…" He trailed off, then lifted his head and huffed out a
long exhale before declaring loudly, "Never mind! No point dwelling on it!
If you want it, you can have the whole cellar! I'll make sure you have good
wine to drink for the rest of your life!"
Chu Wanning smiled. "Deal."
While they were chatting, Xue Meng was over in a corner with
someone, whispering back and forth for some time. Xue Meng suddenly
grabbed hold of that person and hauled him over. Both of them bowed to
Chu Wanning in proper, upright form.
"Shizun!" Xue Meng lifted his head, his youthful countenance
handsome and commanding.
"Shizun." The other person also lifted his head, revealing a face as
beautiful as a lotus coming into bloom or as wisps of cloud drifting lightly
between peaks—who else could it be but Shi Mei?
"This disciple was held up seeing patients at the free clinic in
Wuchang Town today," Shi Mei said bashfully, "and only now came to visit
Shizun. Pray forgive this disciple's shameful tardiness."
"It's no matter." Chu Wanning looked Shi Mei over carefully through
lowered lashes. Though his expression remained neutral, he was caught off
guard by a sudden and deep sense of loss.
Mo Ran's beloved person had grown into someone incomparably
lovely. If the Shi Mei of five years ago had been a fledgling beauty, then the
grown-up Shi Mei before him was like a queen of the night in full bloom, its
tender green sepals unable to hide the glistening white within, snowy petals
quivering as they unfurled, its loveliness eclipsing all around it. His sweet
peach-blossom eyes were clear and dewy. The curve of his nose was gentle
and perfect: a little more would have seemed too harsh, and a little less
would have looked too weak. His lips were red and full like a dew-laden
cherry, and every word that tumbled from them was soft and sweet.
"Shizun, this disciple missed you so much."
Chu Wanning was caught by surprise. Shi Mei rarely ever expressed
his feelings so openly. For a moment, he didn't know what to say. When he
saw Shi Mei's eyes red-rimmed with emotion, Chu Wanning couldn't help
feeling rather ashamed of himself. What was he getting jealous of Shi
Mingjing for? He was so much older than him, and his superior to boot—
why should he be jealous of Shi Mingjing?
He nodded and said mildly, "You may both rise."
His two disciples stood with his permission. Feelings freshly under
control, Chu Wanning glanced at Shi Mei, then froze. He stared in mute
confusion. Shi Mei was taller than Xue Meng? Chu Wanning choked a little,
cleared his throat twice, and couldn't resist stealing a few more glances.
Not just a little taller, either. Shi Mei's figure was even more striking
like this—broad shoulders, a slim waist and long legs, gentle and demure
but with a subtle suggestion of assertiveness, an air of grace and elegance
that defied words. This grown-up Shi Mei was nothing like the fragile
adolescent he'd known before.
Despite himself, Chu Wanning's face fell again. He felt like he had
lost this competition a little too woefully.
But…forget it. He had kept his feelings for Mo Ran to himself till the
day he died, and there was no chance he'd confess them in the future. As
for Mo Ran—that guy had chased him all the way to the underworld and
still couldn't tell Chu Wanning liked him, so there was no chance he'd ever
notice in times to come. The two would be no more than master and
disciple for the rest of this life. That was a strong bond too. It was fine. As
for anything beyond that…there was no point forcing something that wasn't
meant to be.
Xue Meng, red-faced, nudged Shi Mei with his elbow and shot him a
meaningful look.
Helpless, Shi Mei asked in a soft voice, "You really want me to do
it?"
"Yeah, it'd be better if you do it."
"But you're the one who gathered all these things over five years…"
"Yeah, that's why it'd be awkward for me to! You do it. Besides, you
brought some stuff back with you today, right?"
"All right." After some hesitation, Shi Mei sighed and acquiesced. He
took hold of the huge rosewood box that Xue Meng had been hiding behind
his back and carried it carefully in both hands as he walked over to Chu
Wanning, who had already sat to continue eating his stewed crab meatball.
"Shizun, the young master and I…prepared some gifts over the past
five years. Just some…small gestures. Please accept them."
As Shi Mei spoke, Xue Meng's face grew redder and redder. In an
attempt to cover his fluster, he crossed his arms and looked away in feigned
nonchalance, as if suddenly fascinated by the decoratively carved pillars of
Mengpo Hall.
Generally speaking, opening a gift in front of the giver was
considered impolite. But as their shizun didn't want to accept something too
valuable, he thought for a moment before asking, "What is it?"
"It's…just some little things we picked up here and there." Perceptive
as he was, Shi Mei immediately apprehended Chu Wanning's concerns.
"Nothing expensive. Just take it to your room and open it there, if that's
what Shizun is worried about."
"There's no difference between opening it now or when I get back,"
Chu Wanning countered. "I'll just open it."
"No no no! Don't open it!" Xue Meng froze for an instant, then
rushed over in a panic and tried to snatch back the box.
But Chu Wanning had already lifted the lid. He threw him an
impassive look. "What are you running for. Don't trip and fall."
Xue Meng stared, aghast.
Sure enough, the box was stuffed with all sorts of interesting things:
delicately embroidered hair ribbons, finely crafted hair clasps, and intricate
belt buckles of jade. Chu Wanning casually picked up a bottle of sedatives
and spotted the seal of Hanlin the Sage glistening under the candlelight.
The contents of the box, all told, were quite costly indeed. Chu
Wanning didn't know what to say and opted instead to shoot his disciple a
glare. Xue Meng's face grew yet redder.
Xue Zhengyong watched from the sidelines, amused. "Yuheng, just
accept it as a token of Meng-er's thoughtfulness. Anyway, the other elders
all got you fairly pricey gifts too. What's one more?"
"Xue Meng is my disciple." Chu Wanning said firmly. It wouldn't be
right to accept all this from someone under his own tutelage.
Hearing him say this, Xue Meng panicked. "It's just stuff I picked out
over the last five years that I thought would suit Shizun! And I only spent
money I earned myself, not a cent of my dad's. Shizun, if you don't take it,
I…I…"
"He'll be upset, won't be able to sleep," Xue Zhengyong supplied.
"Might even go on a hunger strike."
Chu Wanning eyed them both. He really didn't know how to handle
this father-son duo. He looked back down and noticed another, even smaller
wooden box within the pile of gifts. "What's this…" He picked it up and
opened the delicate lid to reveal four little clay figurines.
Bewildered, he glanced up at Xue Meng to find that his disciple's face
was currently the color of a ripe tomato. Catching Chu Wanning's gaze,
Xue Meng hastily lowered his head. The handsome young man acted like a
bashful little boy under his shizun's stare, unable to make eye contact.
"What is this?" Chu Wanning asked again.
Xue Zhengyong was curious as well. "Let's have a look."
"No…don't…" Xue Meng mumbled helplessly, clapping a hand to his
forehead. But his old man had already cheerfully removed the four little
clay dolls and arranged them in a neat row. The little figurines were crudely
made, ugly and crooked, and all looked much the same but for one being
slightly taller and the other three being slightly smaller. Xue Meng's
handiwork, to be sure. He had originally wanted to learn the mechanical
arts from Chu Wanning, but within a day, Chu Wanning had insisted he
switch to the blade. The reason was simple: after an entire afternoon spent
in the Red Lotus Pavilion, the boy had managed to assemble absolutely
nothing, but had nearly managed to demolish the machine room with only a
file. It must've been painstaking work to form these clay dolls with only the
power of his pure heart.
Xue Zhengyong plucked up one of the dolls and looked it over,
turning it this way and that, but still wasn't sure what he was looking at.
"This thing you made, what is it?"
"N-nothing," Xue Meng said stubbornly. "I was just messing around."
"This black one is really ugly; the taller white one looks much better,"
Xue Zhengyong mumbled as he thumbed at the little clay doll's head.
"Don't touch it!"
But it was too late. The little doll spoke: "Hands off, Uncle."
Xue Zhengyong stared, speechless.
Chu Wanning also stared, also speechless.
Xue Meng gave himself a sound slap, then covered his eyes with his
arms; he couldn't bear to look any longer.
It took Xue Zhengyong a long minute to put two and two together,
but when he did, he laughed out loud. "Oho, Meng-er, is this supposed to be
Ran-er? Didn't you make him a bit too ugly? Ha ha ha ha!"
"That's 'cause he is ugly!" Xue Meng shot back angrily. "Look at the
Shizun I made instead! Pretty, right?!" His face was bright red as he pointed
at the white-painted clay doll.
But the tip of his finger inadvertently brushed the little doll's head. It
hmph'd coldly and said, "Don't be impudent."
Chu Wanning truly could not think of a single thing to say.
Xue Zhengyong laughed so hard he nearly cried. "That's pretty good,
pretty good! You laid a voice charm on them, didn't you? The little one's
actually doing a pretty good impression of Yuheng, ha ha ha ha!"
Chu Wanning flicked his sleeves. "Ridiculous." But he carefully
picked up the four clay dolls, tucked them back into the box, and set it
beside him. His face, calm as ever, betrayed nothing. But when he looked
back up, there was a hint of lingering gentleness in his eyes. "I'll take this
one; you can keep the rest. They're all things you can use too, and this
master isn't wanting for any of them."
"But…"
"Young master, do as Shizun says." Shi Mei smiled and consoled him
quietly, then lowered his voice further to say, "What the young master most
wanted to gift were the little dolls, right?"
Xue Meng was so furious there was practically smoke rising from his
head. He shot Shi Mei a glare, stomped his foot, then bit his lip and refused
to say another word.
Xue Meng had always been flattered and fawned on growing up; there
was nothing he couldn't say and nothing he couldn't do. If he liked or
disliked something, he'd always express his thoughts loudly and frankly.
For this reason, Chu Wanning felt that he was extraordinary. This kind of
candor was something he himself had never possessed, and it was one of
Xue Meng's most remarkable qualities. He envied it.
That openness was thoroughly foreign to him, a person who could
never be honest and claimed not to care about something even as it wholly
occupied his thoughts. He had gotten a bit better about it since his return to
life, but his character was what it was, and the changes weren't terribly
noticeable. A river needed more than a single cold day to freeze three feet
deep; in this respect, he felt like he would probably never manage
significant change, even if he were to try for the rest of his life. Besides, he
wouldn't really be the same person if he changed too much.
The banquet was nearly at an end, but Mo Ran still had not returned.
Chu Wanning's chest felt stuffy, but he said nothing. He really wanted to
ask Xue Zhengyong what exactly Mo Ran had written in that letter he'd
sent. He wanted to ask if he knew exactly where Mo Ran was right now.
Instead, he gripped his wine cup and downed one drink after another,
his knuckles white with tension. The wine burned all the way down. But it
did not burn enough to warm his heart, nor enough for him to summon the
courage to turn around and ask when Mo Ran would be back.