In the evening, as the birds returned to roost, so too did the disciples
of Sisheng Peak make haste to Mengpo Hall after finishing their tasks for
the day. Only Mo Ran still stood by the practice dummies as if waiting for
someone.
His relationship with Xue Meng had much improved in recent years.
There was less animosity between them now, especially after Mo Ran had
given his cousin that top-grade spiritual stone to be inset into his
Longcheng blade. Thus Xue Meng turned back to look for him. "Aren't you
coming to dinner?"
"Not yet."
Standing in the dusky light of the setting sun, Shi Mei was
devastatingly beautiful, the afterglow turning his fair skin fairer still.
Brushing back a strand of loose hair, he asked, "Is A-Ran waiting for
Shizun?"
"Mhm."
Mo Ran had seen Shi Mei at morning practice earlier in the day. Back
when he had worked with Xue Meng to repair the Heavenly Rift, Mo Ran
had noticed that Shi Mei was about to outstrip Xue Meng in height. Yet in
this moment, with the sun setting in the west, the sight of him standing so
tall in front of Xue Meng still felt strange to Mo Ran.
Of course he didn't think Shi Mei was bad-looking, it was just that…
he had a peculiar feeling he couldn't really put his finger on. Mo Ran didn't
know what it was, exactly; maybe he was too used to the way Shi Mei's
delicate figure had been hidden behind Xue Meng's, so he'd never expected
this kind of reversal.
Mo Ran smiled at Shi Mei. "Since I missed the banquet yesterday, I
wanted to invite Shizun down the mountain for a meal as an apology. So I
won't be going to Mengpo Hall today. You guys are welcome to come if
you want."
Xue Meng and Shi Mei weren't used to sharing meals with Chu
Wanning, so they looked at each other and left. Mo Ran had nothing else to
do, so he crouched on a large rock and pulled a blade of foxtail grass to play
with while he waited.
The setting sun was a deep crimson, and the crescent moon was
beginning to peek from behind the purpling clouds when the shape of a
person at last appeared on the bamboo footpath from the southern peak,
treading slowly. That figure had changed into a set of light robes in white
and carried a cloth bundle in hand. He paused for a beat upon seeing
Mo Ran, and unease flashed briefly across his features.
"I was just about to go looking for you… What are you doing here?"
"Waiting for Shizun so we can have dinner together." Mo Ran hopped
off the rock, still holding the foxtail grass and beaming brightly. "There's a
new restaurant in Wuchang Town, and I heard they have a famous chef
from the upper cultivation realm who makes really good pastries. So I
wanted to invite Shizun to try the place with me."
Chu Wanning looked him up and down mildly. "Not bad. You've got
money to throw around now, I see."
Mo Ran grinned and said nothing.
With a huff, Chu Wanning tossed the cloth bundle at him. Mo Ran
caught it. "What's this?"
"Your clothes," Chu Wanning replied as he strode past.
Mo Ran hurried after him with a smile. "This robe's made of a pretty
good fabric, light but warm. If Shizun likes it, I can have it altered to be
smaller and…"
"I don't wear hand-me-downs."
Mo Ran faltered as embarrassment hit. "That's not what I meant. I
just… I saw Shizun wearing it this morning, so I thought you liked it…
That was thoughtless of me. I'll send someone to the tailor to have a new
robe made."
"Do you even know what size I wear?" Chu Wanning asked.
Mo Ran thought: how could he possibly not know Chu Wanning's
size? He could approximate the size of Chu Wanning's waist just by circling
his arms, and he knew if Chu Wanning stood on tiptoes, his chin would be
level with his own shoulders. In the past, Chu Wanning would sometimes
bite him in the throes of passion despite himself, leaving twin crescents of
teeth marks beside his collarbone that wouldn't fade for days. Of course he
knew the length of Chu Wanning's legs as well—legs that were so powerful
when they wrestled, but so helpless when wrapped around his waist, slim
calf muscles quivering, smoothly rounded toes tightly curled… And how
could he possibly not know the exact breadth of Chu Wanning's shoulders,
or the full, plump curvature of his buttocks?
Chu Wanning, for his part, was pure as the driven snow and had no
idea what he'd just asked, imagining he had stumped his good disciple Mo
Weiyu with this brilliant query of his. He said with a sweep of his sleeves,
"How would you even order anything without knowing my size?"
Mo Ran knew better than to respond. After all, it wasn't as if he could
claim that he did know, that his mind had kept drifting while he was making
tangyuan earlier, fixated on the way Chu Wanning's figure had looked the
night before: strong and toned and well-proportioned even in the steamy
haze of Melodic Springs, looking just as incredible as he remembered. Or
that his mind had subsequently wandered to thoughts of Chu Wanning's
thin, pale lips, the way they'd looked stretched painfully around his own
girth in the past as he'd been forced to swallow him, and the spasming of
his throat as he'd gagged.
At that moment, Mo Ran had closed his eyes, the jut of his throat
bobbing as he'd mentally condemned himself a beast. Respect him, cherish
him, no more improper thoughts toward him.
Respect him… Respect him…
Two deep breaths later, he'd managed to suppress his burning arousal,
but the tangyuan had ended up a bit too big. His shizun would probably find
them difficult to eat, so he'd tossed them out and remade them, three dainty
little ones this time. Mo Ran contemplatively held them between his fingers
a while, thought about Chu Wanning's thin lips parting slightly to take the
sweet, sticky tangyuan into the soft warmth of his mouth… The curl of that
tongue like a searing flame, igniting all of Mo Ran's passions and desires,
just about taking his life.
So he knew even the exact size a sweet should be in order to fit into
Chu Wanning's mouth, yet here Chu Wanning was asking if he knew what
size clothing he wore. The question lapped kittenishly at the inside of his
chest. Not daring to think on it further, Mo Ran lowered his head and said,
"Of course I'd ask Shizun for his size beforehand."
Chu Wanning found his words a little odd. He shot him a glance. "Did
you catch a cold?"
"Nope."
"Then why is your voice so hoarse?"
"…Inflammation."
After a moment of blank staring, something seemed to occur to Chu
Wanning. He turned his face away, lips pressed into a thin line and gloom
gathering between his brows, but the back of his ears were flushed pink.
The faint blush persisted until they got to Wuchang Town, only fading
when they were seated in a room with a view inside the newly opened
Zhongqiu Restaurant. This was the first time Mo Ran had earnestly invited
Chu Wanning out for a meal. When he'd done so before, it had always been
out of either necessity or exasperation, and thus his frame of mind had been
completely different.
The waiter steeped a pot of Lushan Mist and brought over some
melon seeds and nuts, then respectfully produced two menus written on
bamboo scrolls for this pair of cultivators from Sisheng Peak. Mo Ran
flashed the waiter a smile as he took the scroll. "Thanks."
Chu Wanning subtly glanced up at Mo Ran. This person never used to
have a habit of saying thanks before.
"Shizun should order whatever he likes, but I recommend their sweet
and sour mandarin fish with pine nuts. I heard it's tasty and wellpresented."
Chu Wanning nodded. "Then we'll get that. You pick the rest."
Mo Ran grinned. "I'll order according to Shizun's tastes then."
"You know what kind of food I like?" Chu Wanning asked mildly.
"Mhm, I do," Mo Ran said after a pause. He'd always known, he'd
just never bothered to remember before. But from now on, he intended to
never forget.
He was still scanning the bamboo scroll when the sound of footfalls
came from the stairs, along with the gentle clicking of the bead curtain. He
heard the waiter's voice saying, "Ah, right this way sir, the gentlemen
you're looking for are in this room…yes, yes, yes, they haven't ordered
wine yet."
The curtain of blue silk and agate beads was gently lifted by a
smooth, fair-skinned hand. At the doorway appeared an extraordinarily
beautiful man with soft, ink-black hair and a smile in his eyes that could
chase the clouds from the sky, carrying a pot of wine. Mo Ran turned and
was visibly startled. "Shi Mei? What are you doing here?"
"I ran into the sect leader at Mengpo Hall. He heard that the two of
you were eating here and was concerned this restaurant wouldn't have aged
wine since they've just opened. He sent me to deliver a pot of pear blossom
white to go with your meal." Shi Mei swung the wine pot dangling from his
hand as he spoke; the adorably stocky pot was formed of red clay and held
in twined bamboo rattan, and the wine could be heard swishing inside, its
sweet fragrance faintly discernable even through the seal.
Shi Mei said with a smile, "Good thing I made it in time; it would've
been a wasted trip if you'd already ordered wine."
"What about you? Have you eaten yet?" Chu Wanning asked.
"I'll eat when I get back. Mengpo Hall will be open for a while yet; I
have time."
Chu Wanning, being a courteous person, said: "You're already here,
so why not stay. Have a seat and eat with us."
"Uh… I shouldn't put A-Ran to the expense."
Mo Ran smiled. "What expense, it's just a matter of adding a chair."
He signaled for the waiter to bring out another set of bowls and chopsticks
as he spoke. Zhongqiu Restaurant really was a fancy place—even the
chopsticks used in the private rooms had threads of gold and silver inlaid
into the tips, which glittered in the candlelight.
Shi Mei took a seat and poured wine into luminous, phosphorescent
jade cups for each of them. The rich aroma of the pear blossom white
immediately permeated the air. It was a familiar scent; in his past life,
Mo Ran had drunk it when Shi Mei died, and yet again, all night on the
rooftop, after Chu Wanning died.
But now they were both alive, and the calamity had passed. Mo Ran
suddenly felt like none of those things from the past, be it the possession or
the affection, really mattered anymore. What mattered was that the two best
people in his life were still here, and he could treat them to good food and
good wine with the money he'd earned. This was enough. These cups
shared today were worth more than all the lands he'd ruled in the past.
"Excuse me, waiter. Can we get an order each of mandarin fish with
pine nuts, stewed crab meatballs, savory pork trotter jelly, cherry ham,
three-delicacies soup, and steamed pork in bamboo leaf, all mild. And then
poached fish in hot chili oil, mapo tofu, beef tripe in chili sauce, and kung
pao chicken, as spicy as you make them. For dim sum, we'll have shrimp
dumplings, steamed spareribs and taro with soy sauce, golden tripe with
scallop, and chicken feet in soy sauce. As for dessert…" Mo Ran glanced at
Chu Wanning and closed the menu. "We'll have one of each."
Without even looking up, Chu Wanning said, "We can't finish all
that."
Mo Ran insisted, "We'll just pack up the leftovers to go."
"It'll get cold."
"…We can have Mengpo Hall heat it up."
Chu Wanning didn't feel like wasting any more breath on him—
Mo Ran was acting like a merchant who struck gold and got rich overnight,
spending way too extravagantly. He opened his own menu, looked it over,
and said, "Just one order of sweet kidney bean rolls, one order of leafwrapped sticky rice cake, and three bowls of tangyuan with red bean paste
filling, thank you."
The dishes arrived promptly, one after another. Shi Mei liked spicy
food, while Chu Wanning couldn't take even a hint of it, so Mo Ran
arranged the dishes separately: half the table was light and refreshing, the
other half bright red and sumptuous, the colors complementing one another
in a surprisingly appealing manner.
"Here comes the last one, our signature dish, mandarin fish with pine
nuts—"
At the waiter's announcement, a plate of vibrantly colored and
fragrant mandarin fish in a thick stew was presented by a pair of attendants.
The fish must have weighed at least five catties, fried to a golden crisp and
plated on an enormous, sky-blue porcelain dish. The flesh was cut into
petals of even thickness, with a thick, richly red sweet-and-sour sauce
ladled over, and topped with a sprinkling of emerald peas, slivers of Yunnan
ham, and small, translucent shrimp. Just the sight of the dish made one's
eyes sparkle and mouth water.
Chu Wanning liked sweet things, especially sweet-and-sour things.
Although his expression remained neutral as ever when the fish was
brought out, even he couldn't keep the twinkle from his eye. Mo Ran didn't
miss it.
The waiter glanced at the table, spotting free space in front of
Shi Mei, and started to rearrange the plates to make room for the fish. But a
pair of faster hands than his beat him to it. Mo Ran stood and moved a
couple of the meat dishes that Chu Wanning wasn't really eating to his own
side of the table, then pushed a few of the delicious spicy dishes over to
Shi Mei, leaving an empty space in front of Chu Wanning. Mo Ran grinned
at the waiter and said, "Right there is fine."
"All right then!"
The waiter was all smiles, delighted to have a customer so
accommodating, and immediately took the plate from the attendants to set
down on the stretch of open table before leaving with a bow.
The rearrangement had been handled so naturally that anyone
watching would only think Mo Ran was helping the waiter out, but Shi Mei
had noticed the hidden bias. The gesture took him by surprise, and a strange
expression flickered in Shi Mei's eyes in the long moment before he
lowered them, now a little upset. He felt that Mo Ran, having returned after
being away for five years, had changed. Not only did he look completely
different, but the special attention he once showered on Shi Mei seemed to
have faded a great deal. He liked mandarin fish with pine nuts too, so why
did Mo Ran put it so far from him? Did he not know? Or…
Or did he no longer feel the way he used to.
Shi Mei knew well his own worth. His looks and his temper were both
better than Chu Wanning's; in fact, very few people in the entire cultivation
world could match him in terms of beauty.
But right now, he suddenly felt rather uncertain. He knew that, despite
Mo Ran's fickle and flirtatious behavior in his youth, acting as if he cared
only for looks, it was all a ruse. In truth, the most precious thing to Mo Ran
was genuine sentiment. If someone were to give him a tael of copper, he
would repay them with a thousand gold. Now that the bitterness of past
misunderstandings between him and his shizun had been dispelled, Chu
Wanning's kindness to Mo Ran was not something Shi Mei could compete
against. The thought brought a sudden chill to his heart, and he snapped his
head up to look at the faces of the other two in the candlelight.
One drank wine with his head bowed and his expression mild,
phoenix eyes lucent as water, lashes soft as mist. The other smiled as he
watched the former, cheek propped in a hand and eyes glimmering. In those
eyes, the candlelight reflected the snow of early spring layered upon an
open balcony, pear blossoms blooming under clear moonlight. The
fluttering of lashes resembled ripples spreading across the mirrored surface
of a lake, sweeping across glittering stars with untold feelings likely
unknown even to the bearer of those eyes.
In his moment of distraction, Shi Mei accidentally bumped his
chopsticks with his elbow, sending them clattering to the floor and snapping
himself out of his daze. He bent down to pick them up with a muttered
apology.
But he paused when he leaned over. The chopsticks had landed right
next to Mo Ran's boots, faintly glittering as they lay there, quiet, waiting to
be retrieved. He could've asked the waiter for another pair, but Shi Mei
never liked bothering others. Or perhaps, faced with such a demotion in
status, even the most mild and even-tempered person would feel a little
wronged, a little at a loss. Or maybe it was nothing so complicated—after
all, a person's actions really were often just a matter of a passing thought.
In that moment, the opportunity presented itself. And Shi Mei really
did want to gauge how much Mo Ran cared for him now. So, after a few
seconds of hesitation, he made up his mind. He ducked his head, extending
his fair, slender hand to pick up the chopsticks by Mo Ran's feet.
The chopsticks really had fallen too close. It was completely natural
and unavoidable that the back of Shi Mei's hand would brush against
Mo Ran's lower leg as he retrieved them.