It was the first time Chu Wanning had held hands with Mo Ran
like this—fingers interlaced, palms pressed together. That was enough for
him; it was too much, even. Thank goodness Mo Ran didn't do anything
else, or he would have tumbled hundreds of feet out of the sky to make his
escape.
Thank goodness indeed.
As for Mo Ran, he'd held hands with Chu Wanning like this far too
many times. This wasn't enough for him; it was far too little. Thank
goodness he hadn't done anything else—otherwise handholding would've
led to kissing, which would've led to him asking for even more once he'd
gotten a taste.
Thank goodness indeed.
Nevertheless, Mo Ran could tell Chu Wanning longed to flee. No
sooner had they landed and dismounted the sword than Chu Wanning sped
off without a word. Within two strides, he realized he was being too hasty
and slowed down. Yet, a few more strides later, he heard Mo Ran's
footsteps behind him. Overcome with embarrassment and panic, Chu
Wanning quickened his pace again.
Mo Ran wordlessly watched him go. His heart itched and ached,
burning up and melting all at once. He saw Chu Wanning, eyes fixed on the
ground, marching straight toward a large tree.
"Watch out!" Mo Ran cried.
A loud thud.
Well. He had hit it head-on. Mo Ran rushed over. "Does it hurt? Let
me see."
Chu Wanning pressed a hand to his forehead, absolutely silent. After
a moment's recovery, he set off walking again. As Mo Ran moved to go
after him, he heard Chu Wanning call over his shoulder, "Don't follow me."
"But…I'm also going back to rest."
"Stay outside and cool off in the wind before you come in."
Cool off in the wind? Mo Ran laughed. How could he possibly cool
off? I held your hand; my heart will be warm all night long. But he heeded
Chu Wanning's instructions and hung back. Instead he stood under the cool,
clear moon, watching Chu Wanning dwindle into the distance until his
figure disappeared behind a wall.
He walked over to the tree that Chu Wanning had crashed into.
Stilling for a moment, he pressed his forehead to its trunk, the bark covered
in rough scars. He closed his eyes.
Chu Wanning…liked him.
In a rush of fluttering petals and flowing waters, spring had sprung on
this solitary isle. The luminous moon hung overhead, and the crisp clouds
shielded the slumbering sun. The tide surged in the darkness as sky and sea
merged into a single expanse.
Not a wonder in the mortal world could compare with that one
sentence: Chu Wanning liked him. No matter how bad with words or how
stupid he might be, Mo Ran was overwhelmed by a tidal wave of emotions
at this moment. Love could make a poet of even such a crude simpleton as
Mo Weiyu.
Chu Wanning liked him, Chu Wanning… Chu Wanning liked him!
He pressed his forehead to the rough bark, trying to calm down, to
get ahold of himself, to cool off, to…
It was impossible. He could never again be calm, cool, or restrained.
His closed eyelids fluttered, tenderness and ecstasy trapped between his
lashes. The corners of his lips quirked up, his dimples tucking themselves
deep into his cheeks, overflowing with sweetness.
Chu Wanning liked him.
Liked him.
The person he was so hopelessly infatuated with, the very best person
in the world, the person he wanted to hold in his arms for the rest of his life
—Chu Wanning, Chu Wanning…
The man who was once the terrible emperor Taxian-jun, who was
now the cultivation world's esteemed Mo-zongshi, stood on a desolate
beach of white sand, pressing his forehead to a great rustling tree with his
eyes screwed shut, laughing out loud, his shoulders shaking.
Because Chu Wanning liked him, even the wind smelled sweet; even
the crash of the waves sounded sweet.
Chu Wanning liked him.
He laughed with gaze downcast, but after a while, his laughter turned
to tears. His mouth split into a madman's grin as tears streamed down his
face. It was so sweet, yet his heart throbbed in agony.
Chu Wanning…liked him. Since Butterfly Town, he had secretly
carried the brocade pouch with their intertwined locks of hair.
He liked him…
Suddenly, Mo Ran wanted to know how long Chu Wanning had been
standing in his shadow, silently keeping him company, wordlessly waiting
for Mo Ran to look back, to reach out, to turn around and see him.
How long had Chu Wanning waited? In this lifetime—and the last.
Two decades in total? No, even longer than that.
He was Mo Weiyu, who had seen all there was of the mortal world.
He knew time was the most priceless thing of all. In his days of power,
when his whims had been as changeable as the weather, he could have had
any precious plaything or sweet-talking beauty he wanted. But time,
flowing past like a river, was the one thing he could never catch.
Someone willing to give up ten thousand gold for you—that was
desire. Someone willing to give up a dazzling future for you—that was
love. But someone willing to give up twenty years of their life for you, their
very best years; someone willing to wait for you, without saying a word,
without asking for reciprocation, and without asking for results—that was
foolishness.
It was really the height of foolishness.
Mo Ran's throat was dry. Bitterness climbed up his throat and rushed
into his mouth. He thought—
Chu Wanning, you're a fool. Why are you like this? How could you be
like this? How could I, Mo Weiyu…let you be like this? You're the best
person in the whole world.
And me? My hands are washed in blood. Even death would be too
merciful for me. I'm the bane of the world, a villain who deserves never to
be reincarnated. I bullied you, resented you, disappointed you—I drove you
to your death. You have no idea what I've done… You have no idea!
Mo Ran hugged that tree, his sobs carried away by the sighing sea
breeze. What had he done…
As Chu Wanning looked on, Mo Ran had chased after somebody
else. As Chu Wanning looked on, Mo Ran had stupidly waited for that other
person to turn around. In the illusion within Jincheng Lake, he had said to
Chu Wanning's face, Shi Mei, I like you. He had taken a knife and carved
out Chu Wanning's heart!
And what had Chu Wanning done?
He had remained silent as a stone, unmoved by the currents rushing
past him. He had acted completely unaffected, even as the blade tore into
his chest. He had cared for Mo Ran, forgiven him, and stayed by his side
until death.
…All the way until his death.
Mo Ran howled with laughter and wailed in pain. Under the moon,
surrounded by the sea and sky, witnessed by no other soul, he teetered
toward the brink of insanity.
Chu Wanning had spent two lifetimes—two lifetimes—keeping his
feelings from Mo Ran until death and beyond. The humblest thing this lofty
and unyielding man had ever done was fall in love with someone. For that
someone, Chu Wanning had done all he could, even when he learned, over
the course of his endless waiting, that there would never be a place for him
in that person's heart. Even when Chu Wanning knew that person wouldn't
love him back. He'd chosen not to bother him or alarm him. He chose not to
cause a whit of trouble for him. He chose to hold onto his last scrap of
dignity.
As he lay dying in the last lifetime, all he'd said was It was I who
wronged you. I won't blame you, in life or in death.
And when Mo Ran had confessed to him in this lifetime, Chu
Wanning—this infinitely good, infinitely proud man—had only said, "I'm
no good. Nobody's ever liked me."
Taxian-jun…Mo Weiyu…what…have you done… What have you
done! Were you blind or were you mad? How did you miss this? How did
you let him down?
Chu Wanning lay in bed with the curtains drawn. Through the misty
shadow of the fabric, he watched the candlelight outside the canopy. His
face burned and his heart raced, but his thoughts had slowed, like a half
frozen stream.
In contrast to the man outside, whose happiness was marred by the
stain of own sins, Chu Wanning's happiness seemed especially simple and
pure. He reached a hand up and stretched out his fingers before his eyes. By
the time he realized what he was doing, he had already covered the back of
his hand with his other palm, as if mimicking the way Mo Ran had held his
hand just now.
When Chu Wanning finally snapped out of it, he sat dazed for a
moment. Then annoyance immediately consumed him. He loathed himself
for being so infatuated with Mo Ran's silly show of strength that he
couldn't put it out of his mind.
Hopeless!
Seething, he pulled his hands apart and even slapped the back of his
right hand in self-admonishment.
A creak, and the door opened. The curtain fluttered in the errant night
wind.
Chu Wanning turned over at once and closed his eyes to feign sleep.
He heard Mo Ran step into the room and cross over to the bed. A tall, broad
frame blocked the guttering flame of the candle. Even through the curtain,
Chu Wanning could see that the light had suddenly dimmed. Mo Ran's
shadow over the bed seemed to press down on Chu Wanning. He could
scarcely breathe.
"Shizun, are you already asleep?" Mo Ran's voice was soft. For some
reason, it carried a raspiness in it, as though it had been washed in saltwater.
Chu Wanning didn't reply.
Mo Ran stood for a long time. Then, as though afraid to wake Chu
Wanning, he carefully and quietly made up his bed in the same spot he'd
slept the night before and blew out the candle.
The room was instantly plunged into darkness. Now that the piles of
butterflies and haitang blossoms were gone, the shadows were deeper than
before—oppressively so, enough to sharpen one's senses. The darkness
brought with it a sense of both dread and anticipation as to what the rest of
the night might hold.
But Mo Ran didn't do anything. This scoundrel who had once
frequented brothels and made a name for himself in the pleasure districts
suddenly turned clumsy and cautious, careful and protective. He settled
himself down, fully clothed.
Chu Wanning let out the breath he'd been holding. He felt a slight
twinge of disappointment, but before he had time to feel ashamed, he heard
Mo Ran get up. The bed curtain swished aside as Mo Ran lifted it.
Heart practically in his throat, Chu Wanning still didn't move a
muscle. He stayed curled up, pretending to sleep, and even did his best to
slow his breathing. He hoped Mo Ran wouldn't notice anything amiss.
What had Mo Ran gotten up to do? Chu Wanning had never been
with anyone, never broken his abstinence. His only knowledge of anything
sex-related came from those preposterous dreams. He was like someone
who had never been in water, whose terror of the waves far outweighed his
thirst. He would prefer to start off by splashing around in a small pool
where the water came only waist-high. If he were to face directly the
rushing rapids of a river, he feared he might drown.
He was not a little afraid of Mo Ran trying anything more daring.
Chu Wanning didn't know if it was because Mo Ran could feel his
minute trembling or hear the faltering rhythm of his heartbeat, but he only
stood calmly in the dark. Then he leaned down—
He bent low enough that Chu Wanning could feel the fervent,
masculine aura radiating from his skin, as though that blazing-hot chest was
about to crush him. But Mo Ran just looked down at Chu Wanning and
smoothed a stray lock of hair behind his ear. Then, with a rustle of the
bedclothes, Mo Ran tucked the blanket more firmly around him.
Chu Wanning's nervousness eased. He felt both satisfied and not, but
at least it seemed that Mo Ran was still a well-behaved perso…
This thought was still forming in Chu Wanning's mind when the
allegedly well-behaved individual dipped his head downward.
Chu Wanning only sensed something soft and warm meet his cheek.
In an instant, his mind burst into a tempestuous cascade of waves that
pummeled the rocky shore and sent snowy seafoam flying. Mo Ran's scent
swirled and smoldered around him, a torturous heat.
Mo Ran had kissed him on the cheek.
How many could behold their beloved's sleeping face and bear
merely to look, to tuck them in and bid them goodnight? Mo Weiyu had
exhausted all of his control and patience. This body of his, which had so
strenuously held all of his deepest desires in check, finally let slip one soft
and tender kiss.
Chu Wanning's heart pounded mightily. Poor Yuheng of the Night
Sky—this matchless hero, calm and unruffled wheresoever he went, found
his cheeks set ablaze and his palms slicked with sweat between Mo Weiyu's
heated breaths.
For a moment, he could think or feel nothing at all; even his breath
was stopped in his chest. His heart galloped so rapidly that it didn't seem to
belong to him anymore. The heavens and earth were a single hazy expanse,
a blur of nothingness. At the same time, a flame seemed to flare to life
within his belly, and brilliant dots of light skittered across his vision. Utterly
dazzled, he could think only one thing:
Mo Ran was kissing him. Even if it was just on the cheek.
He had no capacity to consider anything else, such as how long this
kiss lasted. His sweaty fingers clutched the blanket tight, and his lashes
quivered uncontrollably…
It was a good thing that the night was so dark Mo Ran couldn't see
his irrepressible trembling.
It was also a good thing that Chu Wanning's face was hot and his
awareness muddled. He didn't feel that, when Mo Ran kissed him, a warm
teardrop slid down his cheek and came to pool quietly in the crook of Chu
Wanning's neck.