The busy harvest season ended with the turning colors of the
leaves. The villagers of Yuliang Village prepared an assortment of parcels,
large and small, packed full of jerky, rice cakes, spices, and homespun
cloth. They thrust these parcels into Chu Wanning and Mo Ran's arms.
Sisheng Peak did not lack for food or goods. But these were heartfelt
gifts; to reject them would be rude. Thus the two accepted the parcels and
helped the village chief fill the saddlebags.
Ling-er was there too, hugging a bamboo basket covered in a
porcelain-patterned cloth. A lifted corner revealed fresh-steamed flatbreads
and a dozen green-shelled, hard-boiled eggs. She paused in front of
Mo Ran's horse, her bright, black eyes unable to meet his gaze. She wanted
to look at him, but the memory of her tipsy confession of the other night
was too mortifying. After some hesitant shuffling, she eventually came
over, raising the basket above her head, and said to the handsome man
seated astride the horse, "Mo-xianjun, I…I made these just this morning,
for you and Chu-xianjun to eat on the road."
Mo Ran hesitated, unsure of her intentions; he didn't know whether to
accept or decline. Ling-er understood his misgivings. She lifted her head.
Despite the blush on her face, there was stubbornness and some hurt in her
gaze. She might have tried everything to win the affection of this
extraordinary xianjun, but she wasn't one of those girls with no dignity,
who would continue clinging on after a clear rejection. "Relax, Xianjun,"
she said, "Ling-er doesn't mean anything by it. I just want to thank Xianjun
for taking care of Yuliang Village these last couple weeks."
Only then did Mo Ran take the basket. From his seat atop his horse,
he looked down and replied sincerely, "Many thanks, miss."
"Xianjun is most welcome."
When he saw that she was sensible about things, he felt more friendly
toward her. After a pause, he asked: "Do you have any plans for the future,
miss?"
"Why does Xianjun ask?"
"I just think you don't seem like a girl who wants to live in a small
village for long."
Ling-er smiled, the fight coming back to her eyes. "I want to visit the
upper cultivation realm. I hear Rufeng Sect's leader is kind and willing to
lend a hand to ambitious people of little means. As long as those of us from
the lower cultivation realm can find work in Linyi, they won't chase us off.
My needlework is decent, and I also know how to cook. I should be able to
get by."
Of course, she didn't say the most important part out loud—out of the
ten great sects, Rufeng Sect had the most disciples and its domain stretched
across a vast territory, totaling seventy-two cities of varying size. Moreover,
Linyi was well-known as a cultivator's hub; out of ten people on its streets,
five would be cultivators.
But Chu Wanning hadn't guessed her intentions; when he heard she
was headed to Linyi, his brows knitted slightly. "Things at Rufeng aren't as
simple as you might think. If miss only wants to settle in the upper
cultivation realm, perhaps consider Yangzhou's Rainbell Isle instead."
"It's impossible to make a living in Yangzhou; everything is too
expensive," Ling-er said. "Xianjun's advice is appreciated, but Ling-er has
already thought it over."
She'd made her stance clear. Chu Wanning knew it would be futile to
press, so he let it go.
The two set off on their horses with their saddlebags stuffed to
bursting. As they passed by Butterfly Town, Chu Wanning took a close look
at the barrier there. Fortunately, the spiritual current was plentiful and
everything remained stable. They continued riding and were back at
Sisheng Peak by noon.
Chu Wanning went off to brief Xue Zhengyong on how things had
gone. Mo Ran, left at loose ends, strolled about idly. As he neared Naihe
Bridge, he encountered someone scrubbing the stone lions on the bridge's
columns.
Who had been punished with manual labor? Not wishing to embarrass
the offender, Mo Ran decided to take another route. Yet just as he was
turning around, he heard a familiar voice call out across the distance. "ARan!"
Upon closer inspection, the one scrubbing the lions was Shi Mei.
Mo Ran was momentarily taken aback, feeling somewhat strange. For one,
it was odd to find someone as rule-abiding as Shi Mei getting punished. For
another, there was Shi Mei's current appearance. Even though it'd been
some time since Mo Ran had been introduced to this fully grown version of
Shi Mei, he hadn't gotten used to it. Instead, Mo Ran found Shi Mei's face
and figure increasingly unfamiliar as time went on. He almost hadn't
recognized him at first glance just now.
"What are you doing here? Got in trouble?" Mo Ran asked as he
walked over.
Shi Mei looked a little abashed. "Mn…together with the young
master."
"Mengmeng?" Mo Ran paused for a moment, then chuckled. That
would explain it. It was true that Xue Meng was always getting himself into
trouble. "What did he drag you into this time?"
"He said he wanted to go to the forbidden grounds in the mountain's
backwoods to catch a few monsters for training."
Mo Ran's eyebrows rose.
"He ended up almost stabbing apart the crack in the barrier Shizun
sealed before he left."
Mo Ran didn't know if he should laugh or cry. "Does he think
monsters are something he can catch and keep, like cats and dogs? And
you! Don't just play along with him when he's messing around—why
didn't you try to talk him out of it?"
Shi Mei sighed in exasperation. "Of course I tried to talk him out of it.
It was no use. I was afraid it'd be dangerous, so I had to go with him…
Never mind, forget it, at least nothing really terrible happened. What about
you, A-Ran? You and Shizun went to Yuliang Village to help with the
harvest a while back, right?"
"Mn."
"How was it? Everything go smoothly?"
"Yeah, not too bad."
The two made small talk for a time. After bidding farewell to Shi Mei,
Mo Ran walked alone down a small, tree-lined path in silence. With his
newfound clarity, he could see in hindsight that his feelings toward Shi Mei
had been more of an obsession, something he held on to out of habit, and
not the love he'd thought. He'd once believed that because he looked at
Shi Mei and thought him beautiful, thought him divinely ethereal, and
thought his presence comforting, that this was desire. But it was not.
People had always appreciated beautiful things. Mo Ran appreciated
Shi Mei's beauty, but a closer examination revealed that this appreciation
carried no intimate desire. Mo Ran enjoyed looking at Shi Mei the same way
he enjoyed looking at the mountains cloaked with red leaves in the autumn
and ponds crowded with lotus blossoms in the summer. But in all these
years, he'd basically never had any inappropriate thoughts.
He still cherished Shi Mei and cared for him as before. Yet it was not
the same. Mo Ran finally understood what love was. He was no virtuous
ascetic; his love was hot and steamy, accompanied by the urge to conquer,
by the slap of flesh against flesh, by the rushing of blood and the spilling of
fluids. He was a wolf that could appreciate the scent of wild roses. But
wolves had fangs, and tastes to match; what he fed on was not grass or
flowers, but blood and flesh.
By dinner time, Xue Meng had finally finished organizing the books
in the second classics section of the library. He whined in exhaustion,
sprawling over the table at Mengpo Hall as he issued a steady stream of
complaints. Even his usual favorite, deep-fried diced chicken with chili
peppers, couldn't cheer him up.
As he played listlessly with his chopsticks, he spied Chu Wanning
entering the dining hall. The sight finally gave him the energy to straighten
up and call out, "Shizun!"
Chu Wanning looked over and nodded.
Mo Ran sat beside Xue Meng; he, Xue Meng, and Shi Mei had always
eaten as a trio. But today, when Chu Wanning walked in, Mo Ran set about
shifting all the plates and bowls around to make space at their table.
"What are you doing?" Xue Meng asked.
Mo Ran threw Xue Meng a grin. He stood and waved to Chu
Wanning. "Shizun, come sit here."
Xue Meng and Shi Mei gaped at him. They respected their shizun,
certainly, but sharing a meal with him was another matter altogether. To eat
with someone regularly required a certain level of familiarity and comfort,
if only so one could tolerate the sounds their dining partner emitted as they
crunched on bones and smacked their lips, could ignore the ugly faces they
made while eating or any slips in table manners. Judging by the expressions
on Xue Meng and Shi Mei's faces, it was plain that, though Chu Wanning's
own etiquette was impeccable, they were not used to eating with him, and
they didn't want to eat with him. To them, the occasional meal together
with their shizun was an obligatory social nicety wherein both parties had to
be on their best behavior. After those meals, their backs would often be stiff
from tension and they wouldn't have tasted a bite of what they ate.
Chu Wanning understood this as well. He looked in surprise at
Mo Ran, then shook his head and made straight for his usual spot, carrying
some simple vegetable dishes.
He hadn't taken a meal in Mengpo Hall in five years. As Chu
Wanning took his seat, he noticed a small, ornamental copper plate nailed
into the corner of the table. On it were engraved the words: Reserved for
Yuheng Elder. He stared at it for a long, silent moment. What was wrong
with Xue Zhengyong?!
He sat gloomily, setting his wooden tray down with a heavy rattle. Yet
before he could take a bite, someone pulled back the wooden chair across
from him, claiming a seat at the table "Reserved for Yuheng Elder." He
placed his own tray right next to Chu Wanning's—pressed very close,
almost touching.
Chu Wanning looked up and at length said, "What are you doing
here?"
"It's too cramped over there," Mo Ran said, grinning happily as he
picked up his rice bowl. "So I've come to eat with Shizun."
Chu Wanning glanced at where Xue Meng and Shi Mei sat, baffled. In
what world was it cramped? The two deserted by Mo Ran wore similarly
puzzled expressions as they peeked over at Chu Wanning and Mo Ran's
table. Shi Mei stared wordlessly. Xue Meng mumbled, "Is that mutt out of
his mind?"
Mo Ran had more pressing concerns. He'd stolen a glimpse at the
dishes Chu Wanning had picked earlier and it'd left him all twitchy. Chu
Wanning was a picky eater, and particularly fussy about what he would and
wouldn't touch; it was always this thing would upset his stomach, or that
thing tasted gross. Mo Ran couldn't imagine it was healthy; the nutritional
imbalance was bound to become an issue once Chu Wanning got older. In
the past, he couldn't have cared less what Chu Wanning ate. But things
were different now. Aside from the fact that he liked Chu Wanning, Mo Ran
was also his disciple. It was his duty to see that his shizun ate properly.
But getting Chu Wanning to eat was an art in itself. In much the same
way one couldn't shove food into a cat's mouth and expect them to eat it,
brute force wouldn't work on this man if he had an aversion to something.
An idea came to Mo Ran. He plucked up a piece of braised pork, neither too
fat nor too lean, and placed it in Chu Wanning's bowl. "Shizun, try this."
Just as expected, Chu Wanning frowned. "I don't like pork belly," he
said. "Take it away."
Mo Ran had prepared his strategy in advance. He said, smiling, "I
hear it's done sweet, Jiangnan-style."
"The way they cook meat in Jiangnan isn't like this." Chu Wanning
said.
"How would you know if you don't try it?"
"I can tell from looking at it."
"But the cook said it's Jiangnan-style." Mo Ran set the trap, waiting
for the cat to wander in. He said, still smiling, "Mengpo Hall's cook is an
experienced veteran, how can he be wrong? It must be that Shizun's been
away from home for so long you forgot what braised pork from your
hometown looks like."
"Absurd," Chu Wanning countered. "How could I possibly forget?"
Mo Ran ate a piece, making a show of carefully tasting it, then said
earnestly, "I really think it's Shizun who's wrong. This meat is so sweet—
try a piece if you don't believe me."
Chu Wanning was utterly oblivious to Mo Ran's ulterior motive.
Unconvinced, he picked up the braised pork and put it in his mouth.
"What do you think?" Mo Ran held back his laughter as he watched
this big white cat take the bait.
Chu Wanning frowned in earnest consideration. "It's not right. The
taste of star anise is too strong. I'm going to go tell the cook; this isn't how
you make Jiangnan's braised pork."
"Wait, wait—" Mo Ran hurriedly stopped him with a tug, feeling a
little speechless. He hadn't thought this guy would take it so seriously. If
Chu Wanning confronted the cook, wouldn't Mo Ran be exposed? "Don't
be hasty, Shizun; the cook must be busy right now. If Shizun says it's not
right, then it definitely isn't. I'll let him know later. Let's just finish our
meals first."
Thinking this reasonable, Chu Wanning sat back down and returned
to his meal. The crafty Mo Ran moved to the next step of his dastardly plan.
This time, he picked up a piece of fish.
Chu Wanning's chopsticks faltered. "Shad fish?"
"Mn."
"I don't want it. Take it away."
"Why not?"
"Don't like it."
Mo Ran grinned. "Because it has too many bones?"
A long pause, then: "No."
"But whenever Shizun eats fish, it's always the ones without bones,
or ones with larger bones that are easy to pick out. There's no way Shizun
won't eat shad because it's a small fish with lots of bones, right?" Mo Ran
laughed.
He was all too familiar with Chu Wanning's soft spots and knew just
how to poke them. Sure enough, Chu Wanning was fooled again. Irked, he
said, "How ridiculous." Then he picked up the piece of shad Mo Ran had
placed in his bowl and ate it, clearly demonstrating that he certainly could
eat fish with lots of bones.
Just like that, Chu Wanning was unwittingly coaxed by Mo Ran into
eating far more variety than usual, with meat and greens from almost every
dish. What would've been a quick meal dragged on for almost an hour, and
still they weren't done. By the time they returned their dishes and left,
Xue Meng and Shi Mei were long gone, and only a handful of disciples
remained inside Mengpo Hall.
Mo Ran walked Chu Wanning back to the Red Lotus Pavilion. The
sun slowly sank below the horizon as they walked the tree-lined path,
twilight spreading across the skies. The night breeze blew, and Mo Ran
strolled languidly with his hands clasped behind his head. All of a sudden,
he smiled and said, "Shizun."
"What do you want?"
"Nothing, I just wanted to call out to you."
Chu Wanning eyed him. "Are you so stuffed with food that all the
nonsense is coming out of you?"
Mo Ran's smile grew soft, "Yup, totally stuffed. So Shizun, can I keep
eating with you in the future?"
Chu Wanning knew Mo Ran didn't mean anything by it, but his heart
couldn't help but skip a couple beats. Fortunately, his gaze remained steady.
"Why? Are you fighting with Xue Meng?"
"No, no, that's not it," Mo Ran waved the notion aside with a laugh.
"It's just that I haven't eaten in their company for so long. It's been five
whole years. Sitting together again feels a little awkward. But if Shizun
thinks I'll get in the way, I'll find another place to eat by myself tomorrow,
it's fine."
Chu Wanning didn't immediately reply.
Of course, Mo Ran couldn't say, I feel bad for you, always eating
alone, and neither could he say, I want to make sure you eat well. Mo Ran
didn't have to try to know neither approach would work. What he could do
was feign vulnerability, confess how pitifully lonely he was, and say that he
really wanted company. Chu Wanning had ever been kindhearted; he
definitely wouldn't deny him.
Mo Ran could see the resolve crumbling in Chu Wanning's eyes. All
he needed was one last push: "But honestly, I really don't want to eat
alone."
"Why's that?"
Mo Ran lowered his soft lashes. His small smile was half genuine
emotion, half playing it up to get Chu Wanning on the hook. "Shizun,
someone who eats by themselves is simply satisfying hunger, don't you
think?" He paused for a moment, and in the splendid red glow of dusk,
brushed aside the loose strands of hair blown against his forehead by the
breeze. His dimples were deep as he gazed intently at the other man. "When
two people share both food and company, that's when you really taste the
food, feel its warmth. That's called eating a meal."
Chu Wanning watched him silently.
"Shizun, can I still eat with you tomorrow?"
There was no defense against the little wolf-pup when he made an
effort to be sincere. Mo Ran had a stubbornness about him that stirred the
heart as he said: "Shizun, I spent five years all alone out there. Now that
you're awake, I'll always eat with you. It'd feel weird without you. And I
promise I won't eat rabbit heads or duck necks." A puff of laughter escaped
toward the end, and he shamelessly tugged at Chu Wanning's sleeve. "I'll
eat tofu with scallion and sweet osmanthus lotus roots with you. So say yes,
pretty please?"
Mo Ran had actually been doing quite well up to that point. But with
this, he accidentally reminded Chu Wanning of an unsettled score. A
menacing expression settled over his face as he chuckled coldly, "Fine by
me, but you have to eat exactly what I do in the mornings."
"Sure!" Mo Ran agreed before he'd fully processed Chu Wanning's
words. "Wait, what do you eat in the morning?"
"Savory tofu pudding." Chu Wanning replied cruelly. "With
seaweed."
Mo Ran blinked, flabbergasted. Was Chu Wanning seriously bringing
up ancient grudges from the time they had hotpot together when he was Xia
Sini?
Chu Wanning ground out through clenched teeth, "And. Dried.
Shrimp."