About that, Shizun—actually, I've known since Peach Blossom Springs."
The truth was that he'd known this since his previous lifetime, but
there was no way he could tell Chu Wanning that. "When I was out on a
walk, I overheard Mei Hanxue talking about her with someone from Taxue
Palace." Mo Ran grinned. "Even back then, I trusted the accuracy of Mei
Hanxue's judgment. And once I was watching her carefully, I became
certain that Ye Wangxi couldn't be a man."
"Why?"
"Hasn't Shizun noticed that her collars are always pulled up very
high? They cover her whole neck—it's a very unusual style. Most people
might have one or two robes like that, but I've never seen her without one."
After some consideration, Chu Wanning said, "I never noticed."
Mo Ran used his free hand to demonstrate on Chu Wanning: "They
come up to here, more or less." As he spoke, his fingertips inadvertently
skimmed Chu Wanning's throat. The slight jut there was fascinatingly
delicate; he couldn't help but quickly brush over it again. How fierce and
untamable his shizun was, Mo Ran thought, yet he bared such a vulnerable
spot to Mo Ran's fingers, let him touch—it was a thrilling feeling.
Thus diverted, Mo Ran forgot to look where he was headed. The
sword flew so swiftly that by the time he registered Chu Wanning's "Watch
out!" it was too late. With a loud crash, the sturdy sword sailed straight into
an enormous tree.
The only coherent thought in Mo Ran's head was that he must keep a
tight grip on Chu Wanning's hand. In his anxiety, a quiet "Wanning"
escaped his lips, but he blurted it so quickly, and the tree split so
thunderously, that Chu Wanning didn't hear.
Chu Wanning's head was spinning with rage. Mo Ran called this
sword-riding? What was wrong with running along rooftops and planting
his feet on solid ground? But no, Mo Ran had to show off!
The two of them tumbled heavily to the ground. Mo Ran was first to
land, his back thudding against the rocky, uneven forest floor. He wasn't
really injured, though of course it hurt. Yet as he lay there, looking up
through the branches at a sky full of twinkling stars, he suddenly felt rather
pleased. Ha—thankfully it had been Chu Wanning who landed on him and
not the other way around. He couldn't help but grin. Chu Wanning had
struck his chest hard enough to set his ribs aching, but Mo Ran couldn't
stop himself. His eyes crinkled, the corners of his lips curled, and his
cheeks dimpled with deep pools of infatuation.
Chu Wanning, raising his head to find Mo Ran smiling like a fool,
was incensed. "What are you laughing for? Did the fall knock your brains
out?"
Mo Ran seized the chance to embrace him, holding him tight in his
arms. It wasn't the right time or place, yet he had an irresistible urge to
reach up and stroke Chu Wanning's hair. The thought had hardly occurred
to him before he acted on it.
Chu Wanning was right. The fall had probably knocked his brains
out. "Shizun…"
His fingers were light over Chu Wanning's hair. The darkness of the
night seemed to have handed him a key, opening the box in which his secret
desires were locked. Mo Ran could no longer contain the intimacy in his
tone—it flooded through his words like a tidal wave.
So honey-sweet was Mo Ran's voice that Chu Wanning instantly
froze, panicking. He scrambled to collect the pieces of his stern dignity.
"What are you calling me for? Can't even ride a sword without falling—
very skilled indeed."
Mo Ran sighed softly. He ran his fingers over those inky locks a final
time and forced a quiet laugh. "Shizun is right to reprimand me. Could
I please ask Shizun to get off of me now?" Internally, he was thinking,
Could you please lie in my arms a little longer? But he obviously couldn't
say that.
Face grim, Chu Wanning jumped nimbly to his feet and pulled
Mo Ran up after him. "Are you all right?" he asked stiffly. "Were you
hurt?"
"I'm fine." Mo Ran smiled. "I'm tough as nails—falling's no big
deal."
Chu Wanning was about to say more when he noticed a wilted flower
on Mo Ran's head, probably knocked off a tree in the fall. Chu Wanning
narrowed his phoenix eyes. "Your head…"
"Am I hurt?" Mo Ran reached up and felt his own head, but
everything seemed fine.
"No—you're blooming." Chu Wanning plucked the flower from
Mo Ran's hair and handed it over expressionlessly. Self-conscious, Mo Ran
rubbed the back of his head, the gesture full of bashful reticence. His smile
grew only more brilliant.
Chu Wanning turned aside and cleared his throat. "If you're fine, let's
get going."
"On the sw—"
"No sword." Chu Wanning turned to nail him with an angry glare.
"Qinggong!"
"Qinggong it is then," Mo Ran said with reluctance, and waved his
hand to return the sword to his qiankun pouch.
The brush grew increasingly dense deeper into the forest; traveling by
sword wouldn't have been much faster anyway. Chu Wanning's footwork
was impeccable—he soared like the wind, skimming the ground as if it
were water. As the cool breeze bathed Mo Ran's face, the irrepressible
excitement in his heart calmed some.
Suddenly, Chu Wanning's voice sounded from up ahead. In a tone
that implied that he couldn't care less, he asked, "How did you know about
the mole on Song Qiutong's leg?"
Mo Ran stared blankly, caught off guard. With a thump, the mighty
Mo-zongshi once again crashed face-first into a pine tree.
Giving him a long look, Chu Wanning said, "Do you have night
blindness?"
"Nope," Mo Ran groaned. "Sorry, just a little absent-minded today."
Chu Wanning frowned slightly. Then, with a sudden realization, he
flew into a rage. "Are thoughts of the mole on Song Qiutong's leg so
distracting? A cultivator must keep his heart pure and free from desire! If
you're so flustered after one glimpse of a beauty, what's the point of
cultivating at all?"
Mo Ran didn't reply. He felt that Chu Wanning was quite correct,
except he'd identified the wrong subject. The beauty he coveted wasn't
Song Qiutong, but the fiery-tempered man before him who was roaring like
an angry snow leopard.
He sighed and looked tenderly at Chu Wanning. "Shizun, Song
Qiutong isn't my type. You're overthinking it. I heard about the birthmark
on her leg from someone at the Xuanyuan Pavilion auction; I've never seen
it myself. Don't be mad."
"Why would I be mad?" Chu Wanning paused. "Forget it. Let me ask
you—if Ye Wangxi is a woman, then why did Song Qiutong's cinnabar
mark disappear? It can't be a coincidence."
"You're right about that. Does Shizun remember the bracelet I gave
Song Qiutong?"
"Mn."
"I designed a spell and placed it on that bracelet." Mo Ran hesitated.
"It took me four days. I didn't do a great job, but as long as Song Qiutong
wore the bracelet, it would temporarily mask the dot of cinnabar Hanlin the
Sage left on her wrist."
Chu Wanning didn't reply, but he looked unhappy. He felt that
Mo Ran was still hiding something from him.
Mo Ran had changed a great deal during these past five years. And
somehow, he'd picked up Chu Wanning's own bad habit of meddling in
others' affairs. But Chu Wanning tended to intervene only when he
stumbled across injustice, helping people where he could. For Mo Ran to
pour so much effort into influencing this situation—even inventing a little
spell to unmask someone's true nature and prevent her from marrying into
Rufeng Sect—was rather excessive. It made no sense for Mo Ran to have
gone to such lengths unless there was some deep animosity between him
and Song Qiutong, or an important connection between him and
Ye Wangxi.
Mo Ran sensed Chu Wanning's thoughts from his silence. Trailing
close behind as they leapt through the air, he said, "Shizun."
"What?" Chu Wanning replied coolly.
Mo Ran couldn't talk about the events of his past life, but he also
didn't want Chu Wanning to worry. After some thought, he decided to share
half his true feelings with Chu Wanning. "Shizun, Ye Wangxi is a really
good person. At Xuanyuan Pavilion, she staked everything to save a woman
she'd never seen until that moment. You know this too."
"Mn."
"But Ye Wangxi likes Nangong Si—could you tell?"
Chu Wanning hesitated, then said, "More or less. I saw that tonight."
"That's good. I learned of Miss Ye's identity some time ago, so I'd
long guessed her feelings. Until now, Song Qiutong wasn't aware that
Ye Wangxi is a woman, so she respected Ye Wangxi and harbored no
malice. But if Song Qiutong married Nangong Si, Rufeng Sect might no
longer keep this secret from her. Knowing Song Qiutong's personality, she
would definitely see another woman with feelings for Nangong Si as a
thorn in her side."
Mo Ran paused. In his past life, Song Qiutong had sensed what
passed between himself and Chu Wanning. Overcome with jealousy, she
had taken advantage of Mo Ran's absence from the palace to extract all ten
of Chu Wanning's fingernails. What would happen if Ye Wangxi fell into
the hands of a woman like this? It needn't be said.
Such acts of cruelty were the kinds of evil deeds Song Qiutong
committed. Never so heinous as to be noteworthy in themselves—rather,
they were minor brutalities that allowed her to hide behind someone even
crueler, waiting until they had finished to prolong her victim's suffering.
Kindness and evil were similar this way. If the sky fell, the tallest
person would always take the brunt of the blow. The most benevolent
person would be crushed to death first—like Chu Xun, cast out by the
vulnerable citizens he sought to protect. Likewise, the most malevolent
person would also be the first destroyed—like Taxian-jun, wanted dead by
all under heaven.
But if not for these small acts of evil that piled up across the torrents
of time, if not for countless minor malefactors who cut one scar after
another into Mo Ran's body, would Taxian-jun—Mo Weiyu—have come to
be?
"Aren't you worried that you're asking for trouble, sticking your nose
in like this?" asked Chu Wanning.
Mo Ran knew he had shown too much of his hand. But in his past
life, he had dragged Ye Wangxi into a sea of blood. Even if, in this life, the
fate of Rufeng Sect had nothing to do with him, he owed Ye Wangxi a debt.
So he had acted without hesitation, even at the cost of crossing boundaries
and attracting suspicion. He wanted those he had wronged in the previous
lifetime to live better this time around—not just Chu Wanning, but the
others as well. He still hoped to atone for his crimes.
"Of course I'm worried," said Mo Ran. "But since I knew the truth,
I wanted my conscience to be clear."
Chu Wanning still felt that Mo Ran had acted too rashly, but he didn't
pursue the matter further after hearing his answer.
At that moment, a sickly-sweet smell drifted on the wind, and a
strong flow of spiritual power materialized in front of them. Before Chu
Wanning could react, Mo Ran had paled. "This is bad," he said in a low
voice. "It's the Zhenlong Chess Formation!"
"It's coming from over there."
The putrid smell pervaded the night air. Up above, ghosts had started
to crawl out of the rift in the sky. Ahead, five pillars of light abruptly burst
from the ground—metal, wood, water, fire, earth. Just like Butterfly Town.
Gaze locked on those lights, Chu Wanning said, "It's him."
Mo Ran of course knew whom he meant. Jincheng Lake, Peach
Blossom Springs, Butterfly Town… Five years had passed since he'd last
appeared—the mysterious figure pulling the strings, the fake Gouchen!
Mo Ran was immediately uneasy. This Zhenlong Chess Formation
was completely different from last time. It wasn't concealed or disguised at
all…as though the one deploying it saw success within reach, all but
certain.
The forest birds startled into flight and scattered in every direction.
Chu Wanning sped toward the Heavenly Rift, Mo Ran right on his heels. As
they drew near, they could see a stream of assorted fiends pouring from the
crack in the sky. "The Infinite Hells…" muttered Mo Ran.
This rift was identical to the one in Butterfly Town five years ago—it
also went to the Infinite Hells! In a panic, Mo Ran looked over and grabbed
Chu Wanning's wrist. "Shizun, don't go over there!"
"Don't be ridiculous."
Mo Ran knew it was a silly thing to say. But in the course of two
lifetimes, he had witnessed two Heavenly Rifts to the Infinite Hells, and
their aftermaths were like a lingering nightmare. How could he not worry,
now that he was faced with a third?
But words like don't go over there were less than useless. A person's
character was a difficult thing to change. A man like Chu Wanning would
never turn and run from a calamity; even if he were given a thousand
chances to do so, he would refuse each and every time. Mo Ran looked at
Chu Wanning and found himself at a loss for words.
Chu Wanning glanced at him. "Don't worry, I'll be careful." He
raised his hand and summoned Tianwen. Its golden brilliance lit his slender
figure as sparks scattered in all directions.
Mo Ran stared into Chu Wanning's eyes and finally heaved a sigh.
With a matching flash of dazzling light, Jiangui materialized in his palm. Its
scarlet glow met Tianwen's warm halo in an interplay of red and gold,
twinned weapons that had crossed generations to meet, equal in might,
matchless in power. "Okay, I won't try to dissuade you. Whatever you want
to do, Shizun, I'll be right beside you."
The spiritual light of their weapons shone in their eyes, resplendent.
Fiery red blazed with molten gold, and molten gold was dyed fiery red.
"I'll go with you."
Chu Wanning studied Mo Ran's dopey expression as he made his
promise so sincerely. He felt both warm and helpless. Mo Ran's eyes held
too many emotions, no few of which had long overstepped the affection a
disciple should feel for his master. Chu Wanning didn't dare ascertain what
exactly those emotions might be.
He reached up to prod Mo Ran on the forehead. "There's no reward."
Mo Ran stared for a moment, then reached up and pulled Chu
Wanning's hand away. It took everything in him to resist the urge to bring
that hand to his lips and kiss it. "Mn, so there isn't," he grinned. "Let's go."
Lit by the red-gold glow of the holy weapons, the pair were like
immortals passing through the gloom of night. They came quickly to the
heart of the hunting grounds' dense forest—Ganquan Lake. Chu Wanning
and Mo Ran stilled their breathing and hid in the tangerine grove to study
the rift. The spiritual power that nourished the lake had been cut off, and the
water's surface had frozen over in the bitterly cold night. On each of the
four shores of the lake an array had been drawn, a shining weapon stuck in
the middle of each.
"Four holy weapons of different elements?" Chu Wanning asked
softly.
Mo Ran was taken aback by the sight. "So the holy weapon thefts
over these past five years were related to him…"
"But he was using human hearts at Butterfly Town. Why switch
arrays?"
Mo Ran was about to answer when Chu Wanning touched a finger to
his lips. "Quiet—look over there."
Mo Ran followed his line of sight. A group of Rufeng Sect's guards
walked slowly along the lake in the distance, mixed with all the young
cultivators who had been chosen for the hunt. Spiritual power flowed from
their chests, merging into a single stream that poured into the holy weapons
of different attributes. The weapons, fed on these strong, pure energies,
glowed brighter and brighter, the rays of their light stretching toward the
heavens. As they watched, the seam in the sky split apart into a massive
chasm. The portal leading to the Infinite Hells had been ripped wide open.
Mo Ran's eyes widened. "What are they doing?"
"These guards are all unconscious and being controlled by the
Zhenlong Chess Formation." An anxious crease appeared between Chu
Wanning's brows. His eyes swept over the group on the shore and suddenly
stopped. The color drained from his face, and he gripped Mo Ran's
shoulder with trembling fingers, not at all like his usual self.
"What is it?" Mo Ran turned. After searching a moment, he saw a
familiar figure walking among the crowd. "Xue Meng?!" he exclaimed in fright.