But Chu Wanning didn't ask, and Xue Zhengyong didn't raise it. In
fact, the sect leader of Sisheng Peak was on his way to getting rather
plastered, light-headed and slurring his words. He leaned over, stared at
Chu Wanning, and said, "Yuheng, you're upset."
"I am not."
"You're mad."
"I am not," Chu Wanning repeated.
"Who upset you?"
Chu Wanning fell silent. Should he ask? He'd feel a lot better if he
just asked. Maybe Mo Ran didn't actually say he'd definitely be back
tonight, maybe he only said he'd try his best, and Xue Zhengyong reported
it wrong, or remembered it wrong…
Chu Wanning glanced toward the door, at the black night outside. The
banquet was coming to a close, and the seats would soon be cold.
His first day out of seclusion, and Mo Ran hadn't made it back in
time. Every single disciple of Sisheng Peak was here, including those
whose names he didn't know and those he'd never even met. It was only
him who was missing. But without him present, the banquet was
incomplete. And all the stewed crab meatballs, sweet osmanthus lotus root,
and fragrant pear blossom white wine in the world wouldn't make it
complete. Chu Wanning closed his eyes.
There came a sudden ruckus from the direction of Mengpo Hall's
front entrance, and a bunch of disciples yelled excitedly in the distance.
"Aiya—! Look! What's that outside?"
"There's something in the sky!"
The commotion drew more and more people. Now even those in the
hall could hear the lively crackling and thunderous booms from the outside,
one after another. They walked out to the verdant lawn outside Mengpo
Hall, looking up at the sky lit by fireworks, a million glittering specks
blooming and scattering against the backdrop of the starry night.
"Fireworks!" The younger disciples beamed. Their youthful faces
were illuminated by the flickering lights above, the skyful of stars reflected
in their eyes.
"It's so pretty! I've never seen fireworks this big, not even at New
Year's!"
Chu Wanning slowly walked out from the hall as well. His mood was
gloomy; grateful as he was that Xue Zhengyong had gone to the trouble of
preparing such a brilliant fireworks show, the heaviness in his chest
weighed on him.
A sharp whistling sound pierced the night. He lifted his head listlessly
and saw a streak of golden-red light shooting into the open sky like an
arrow loosed from its bow. How beautiful. If only that person were here
too…
Bang!
That brilliant flare flew level with the Big Dipper's handle before
bursting across the sky in countless glittering sparkles, eclipsing the stars of
the Milky Way and stealing the light from the moon itself. The fireworks
scattered like so many haitang petals set adrift by a rustling breeze, floating
and dancing like wintry snow, glimmering and rippling like open water.
Amidst the splendid display and lively bustle of the crowd, Chu Wanning
slowly closed his eyes.
"Disciple Mo Ran welcomes Shizun back from seclusion."
These words came from behind him all of a sudden, every syllable
clear and needle-like.
Chu Wanning began to tremble minutely. He felt as if there were
thorns in his back, fire in his throat. Unable to breathe, with his heart
beating out of rhythm and blood racing through his veins, he whipped his
head around.
Standing behind him were a handful of disciples who had just
emerged from Mengpo Hall. All were gazing at the sky in amazement, and
one of them had been reading aloud.
And then it wasn't just one person reading these words anymore.
Everyone found it novel and interesting. Everyone, down to the youngest
disciples, the men and the women, those standing alone and those in groups,
all of them were looking up at the glittering, resplendent night sky and
reading out loud:
Disciple Mo Ran welcomes Shizun back from seclusion.
The utterances carried a tenderness like the tide, gentle as slumbrous
whispers; the words bespoke determination like a boulder, firm as the
mighty mountains. Chu Wanning's head snapped skyward, where the
brilliant fireworks, guided by spiritual energy, had spelled one sentence in
huge, shimmering letters across the night sky.
The fireworks formed a magnificent river that could doubtless be seen
for hundreds of miles. In that moment, in that night, Chu Wanning felt as if
the vivid, glistering specks were converging on him from across hills and
mountains, across the breadth of time, bringing with them that one person's
joys and sorrows, longings and regrets. He suddenly felt like a piece of
driftwood afloat in the ocean, and the ocean was Mo Ran's eyes—the way
they had looked when he pulled Chu Wanning into his arms before the
ghost king's palace in the underworld, full of tender warmth, fiery passion,
and unwavering determination.
There was nowhere to run. He was surrounded by that person's
murmurs, that person's laughter, that person's affection. Chu Wanning
didn't want to consider what kind of affection it was—that of a master and
disciple, or something more. Just having it was enough.
Mo Ran didn't manage to make it back before the end of the banquet.
It was simply too far away, even traveling through the night without
stopping. But he still had in his bag the signal fireworks made by the Xuanji
Elder that he'd been given for emergencies, should he meet with some
mishap while off the peak. It was an ingenious creation: by writing a
message on paper with spiritual energy, placing it in the tube, and setting off
the firework, one could project a message across the sky in bold letters so
large they would be visible from Sisheng Peak, no matter how far the
sender.
The signal fireworks were costly and exceedingly difficult to
construct, but Mo Ran didn't care about that. He only wanted to ensure his
shizun wouldn't be upset. Even across mountains and rivers, even separated
by time and circumstance, he had to make sure Chu Wanning could hear
these words:
Disciple Mo Ran welcomes Shizun back from seclusion.
The banquet came to a close four hours later. By the time Chu
Wanning got back to the Red Lotus Pavilion, the night was late, and he
smelled of wine. He wanted to take a bath to wash off, but the weather had
gotten cool of late and the water in the pavilion's lotus pond was too chilly
for bathing—he'd nearly caught a cold washing there yesterday. After a
moment's thought, he stepped inside to fetch a change of clothes and a
wooden washtub, then headed toward Melodic Springs.
Melodic Springs was the sect's communal bath, though he'd only
ever used it in his first few months at Sisheng Peak. Hardly anyone would
be bathing this late at night. Lifting the thin hemp curtain with one hand,
Chu Wanning strode in.
Many parts of Sisheng Peak had been renovated over the years, but
Melodic Springs was unchanged. High, black-tiled walls rose on all sides,
and lightly drifting sheer veils lined the winding corridor that led from the
front gate to a flight of six narrow wooden steps lacquered with a clear
varnish. Bathers would remove their shoes and socks before descending the
stairs, so at one glance anyone could tell how many people were currently
soaking in the baths. While taking off his own, Chu Wanning saw that there
was only one other pair of boots here—fairly large and a little dirty, but
placed neatly in the corner rather than carelessly tossed to the ground just
because it was empty.
Chu Wanning wondered who else had come here to bathe this late at
night. But it was only a fleeting thought. Holding his small washtub, he
walked barefoot down the steps, brushed aside the last set of curtains at the
end of the path, and walked into the courtyard.
The courtyard was hazy with steam, which rose from the massive hot
spring that cascaded down from a broad, rumbling waterfall and spilled
over the rocks into tiered pools. The thick, cloudy steam gently unfurled out
from the pool, drifting slowly, filling every corner and crevice and killing
visibility. A person had to get very close to another to see their face. Chu
Wanning followed the little footpath of smooth, colorful pebbles under the
luxuriant canopy of flowering peach blossoms until he reached the closest
entrance to the baths. A low shelf carved from bluestone had been placed
there to hold bathers' clothes. He put his wooden washtub and robe on the
shelf, then undressed and waded slowly into the spring.
It was pleasantly warm. Chu Wanning couldn't help the soft sigh of
contentment that escaped him. If not for his reluctance to brave the crowds
who bathed here, or otherwise only come this late every day, he'd really
rather bathe here than the cold waters of the Red Lotus Pavilion's simple
pond. Truly Xue Zhengyong was fastidious and thorough. He had
personally overseen the construction of Melodic Springs; flowers bloomed
along the borders of the pool year-round, and there was a waterfall at the
end of the pond for rinsing. There was even a small wooden pavilion at the
hot spring's side to lie down and rest in after soaking, furnished with heated
stones meant to be placed along the meridians to relieve pressure. This was
vastly more indulgent than the rushed bath he'd had to make do with
yesterday at the Red Lotus Pavilion.
In his delight, and seeing that there was no one else around, Chu
Wanning let loose for a moment, extending his slender limbs and swimming
all the way to the waterfall with a splash.
He had only just risen from the water and wiped his face, a faint smile
still hovering on his lips, when he suddenly noticed a man very close to
him, showering in the surging waterfall with his back turned.
The waterfall was so loud that Chu Wanning hadn't heard the other
person at all, even this close by. If he had come out of the water a little later,
swum a little further, the tips of his fingers probably would've brushed the
man's legs.
Good thing he had stood up when he did and hadn't accidentally
touched this stranger. But he was still inappropriately close—practically
standing right behind the other man.
This person was very tall, quite a bit taller than Chu Wanning, and his
sun-kissed skin was the color of honey, making him seem wild and
unrestrained. His shoulders were strong and broad, and the shoulder blades
that flexed beneath his golden skin hinted at a concealed strength with each
lift of his arms. He wasn't overly muscular but sculpted and evenly toned.
The water cascaded over his body, rivulets gathering into streams to flow
down the wide expanse of his powerful, masculine back. Some of the spring
water splashed off, but more seemed infatuated with his body, clinging to
him in a light sheen, loath to part.
As someone accustomed to asceticism, Chu Wanning had never seen
such a carnal sight. His ears burned as he hastily turned to leave.
Heaven only knew whether it was the bottom of the spring that was
too slippery or if it was Chu Wanning who took a false step. He stumbled
and fell face-first into the pool, sending a spray of water into the air.
"Cough cough!"
Chu Wanning's face was red with embarrassment, and he
inadvertently swallowed a mouthful of water in his fluster. When he
remembered that it was technically bathwater from that guy behind him, he
became so indignant and disgusted that he discarded all appearance of calm
and composure, scrambling and flailing as he tried to find his footing.
He was the Yuheng Elder, how could—
In his panic, and with no dignity left to speak of, a strong, shapely
hand grabbed him and pulled him up from the streaming water. The man
had obviously been startled by what had happened just behind him.
"Are you okay?" The man spoke in a deep, soothing voice, one hand
around Chu Wanning's arm. The difference in their heights was such that
his breath puffed against Chu Wanning's ear as he lowered his head to
speak, "Careful, it's slippery here."
Chu Wanning's ears burned even hotter. He could sense that man's
chest behind him, mere inches from his back, rising and falling, up and
down. Each time it fell, a merciful relief like it had spared his life; each
time it rose, a menacing precarity as it threatened to brush against his back.
Chu Wanning was both indignant and mortified at once—never had he been
touched by someone like this!
He shook off the man's hand, expression surly and eyes aimed
determinedly away from the stranger. "I'm fine."
The deafening rush of the waterfall all but masked Chu Wanning's
voice. But for some reason the man jolted at the sound, falling entirely still
before slowly lifting his hand like he wanted to say something, but didn't
quite have the courage…
In that brief moment of hesitation, Chu Wanning had already opened
a wide gap between them and stepped into—or rather, hid inside—the
rushing, roaring curtain of water.