>>warning: 15 year old Mo Ran fucks a prostitute
"My heart had already stilled and my thoughts turned to ash, yet unexpectedly the light of spring shines through the cold night. Could it be that the heavens pity the blade of grass in the secluded valley? Yet I fear only that the world is unpredictable and full of hardships."
A woman's crisp voice passed by his ear, poetic verses rolling like pearls and jade, but all they did was make Mo Ran's head throb, the vein by his brow twitching madly.
"What's with all the noise! Where'd this wailing banshee even come from!
Servants, kick this bitch off the mountain!"
Only after bellowing so did Mo Ran realize with a start that something wasn't right.
…Hadn't he died?
Hatred and coldness, pain and loneliness stabbed at his chest. Mo Ran's eyes flew open.
Everything that had happened right before his death scattered like snow in the wind. He found himself lying on a bed; not the bed at Sisheng Peak, but a bed carved with a dragon and phoenix, the wood smelling heavily of powder.
The old quilt was colored pink and purple, embroidered with mandarin ducks—— the kind of bed one would only find in a whorehouse.
"…"
Mo Ran froze.
He knew where this was.
This was the entertainment district near Sisheng Peak.
So-called entertainment district just meant brothel, easy come easy go.
Mo Ran had had a period of debauchery in his youth, and had spent the greater portion of half a month at this establishment. But this place had been sold and converted into a wine shop when he was twenty-something. How did he end up here of all places after death?
Had he transgressed too much in life, wronged too many people, and so the king of the underworld was punishing him to reincarnate into a whorehouse and take customers?
Mo Ran turned over as his imagination ran wild.
And unexpectedly came face to face with a slumbering person.
"…"
What the hell!!! Why was there a person next to him??
A man, totally naked!
He was lovely and pleasing to the eye, and quite androgynous.
Mo Ran showed no expression, but his heart was full of turmoil. He stared at that pretty boy's face for a while and suddenly remembered.
Wasn't this the boy toy he'd doted on when he was young, named... Rong San?
Or was it Rong Jiu?
It didn't matter if it was San or Jiu, what mattered was, this prostitute got an STD and died years ago, even his bones should've rotted away by now. Yet,
here he was, delicately curled by his side, neck and shoulders dotted with blue and purple, full of love bites.
Mo Ran pulled a long face, lifted the quilt, and peeked downwards.
"…"
This Rong someone, don't know if he's Jiu or San, let's just call him Rong Jiu. Rong Jiu's pretty little body was covered in rope burns, and his pale, tender thighs were still tied intricately with red rope.
Mo Ran stroked his chin: how interesting.
Look at this exquisite rope art, the skilled technique, the familiar scene.
Didn't he fucking do this himself??!!
As a cultivator, he had read about the concept of rebirth. He began to suspect that he had somehow gone back in time.
To confirm his suspicions, Mo Ran found a copper mirror. The mirror was worn, but good enough to vaguely make out his appearance.
Mo Ran had been thirty two when he died, but the face in the mirror was quite young; it was a charming face exuding a youthful arrogance, looking no more than fifteen or sixteen.
There was no one else in the room. Thus, the once cruel ruler of the cultivation world, Evil Tyrant of Bashu, Emperor of the Mortal Realm, Lord of Sisheng Peak, Taxian-Jun Mo Ran himself, after much consideration, expressed his thoughts honestly.
"Fuck…..."
The sleeping Rong Jiu got "fuck"-ed awake.
The pretty thing sat up languidly, the thin quilt sliding off of his shoulder to reveal an expanse of pale skin. He gathered his long, soft hair and, lifting his peach blossom eyes smudged with red ink, he yawned.
"Oh…Mo-gongzi, you're up early today." Mo Ran did not respond. Back then, he had indeed liked Rong Jiu's type: delicate and androgynous. But now, the thirty two year old Taxian-Jun couldn't figure out what the hell he had been thinking to find this kind of man attractive.
"Did you not sleep well last night? Nightmare?"
This Venerable One fucking died, how about that for a nightmare.
Rong Jiu thought his continued silence was because he was in a bad mood,
so he slipped off the bed to stand before the carved window, wrapping his arms around Mo Ran from behind.
"Mo-gongzi, pay attention to me~ what are you spacing out for?"
Mo Ran's face turned blue at this embrace. He wanted nothing more than to rip this hussy off of himself and grant that fragile-looking face some seventeen,
eighteen slaps, but managed to suppress the urge.
He still felt a bit dizzy and uncertain of the situation.
After all, if he really had been reborn, then he couldn't just beat Rong Jiu up out of the blue after spending the previous day all lovey-dovey with him. It would make it seem like he'd lost his marbles. Definitely couldn't have that.
Mo Ran arranged his expression, putting on a pretense of forgetfulness:
"What day is it?"
Rong Jiu stared for a second, then smiled: "Fourth of May."
"Thirty third year?"
"That was last year. It's the thirty fourth year now. They do say that great men tend to be forgetful."
The thirty fourth year…
The gears in Mo Ran's head turned rapidly.
That year, he'd turned sixteen, and had just been identified as the Sisheng Peak Leader's long-lost nephew, transforming from a pathetic, bullied dog to a phoenix on the branch overnight.
So then, he really had been reborn?
Or, was it just a hollow dream in death…
Rong Jiu smiled: "Mo-gongzi is so hungry he doesn't even remember the date anymore. Wait here a minute, I'll go fetch some food. How does fried pancake sound?"
Mo Ran had just been reborn, and wasn't sure how to deal with all of this yet. But, it should be fine if he just followed the same approach as before. So he thought back to his charismatic style back then and, suppressing his disgust, playfully pinched Rong Jiu's thigh.
"Sounds delicious! I want congee too, and I want you to feed me."
Rong Jiu pulled on some clothes and left, soon returning with a tray carrying a bowl of pumpkin congee, two youxuan pastries, and a plate of side dish.
Mo Ran happened to be a bit hungry and was about to dig into the pastries when Rong Jiu brushed his hand away: "Allow me to serve Gongzi."
"..."
Rong Jiu picked up a pancake and sat on Mo Ran's lap. He wore nothing but a thin robe, legs spread wide open and flush against Mo Ran, even rubbing against him now and again without subtlety.
Mo Ran stared at his face.
Rong Jiu thought he was getting horny again: "What're you staring at me for? The food's going to get cold."
Mo Ran was silent for a moment. Remembering the "good deed" Rong Jiu had done behind his back in his previous lifetime, the corners of his lips curved into a sweet smile.
He, the great Taxian-Jun, was no stranger to disgusting acts. As long as he felt like it, there was nothing too disgusting for him to do. This right now was merely putting on a show; mere child's play.
Mo Ran casually leaned back against the chair, smiling. "Sit."
"I…I'm already sitting."
"You know where I'm telling you to sit."
Rong Jiu blushed. "Why the rush, how about Gongzi finishes eating fir-...ah!"
Before he could even finish, Mo Ran pulled him forward and pressed him back down. Rong Jiu's hand shook and knocked over the bowl of congee. He managed between gasps, "Mo-gongzi, the bowl…"
"Doesn't matter."
"B-but you should still eat first...… nn... ah..."
"Aren't I eating right now?" Mo Ran held onto his waist, the sight of Rong Jiu's extended neck and lovely visage reflected in his pitch black pupils.
In his previous lifetime, he'd liked to kiss those captivating red lips during intimacy. After all, Rong Jiu was pretty and knew just the right words to say. It would be a lie to say that Mo Ran had never felt anything for him.
But now that Mo Ran knew what these lips had done behind his back, he found them unbearably foul, and definitely had no interest in kissing them.
The thirty two year old Mo Ran was different from the sixteen year old Mo Ran in many aspects.
For example, the sixteen year old him still knew gentleness in love and intimacy. However, the thirty two year old him had only violence left.
Afterwards, looking at Rong Jiu who had passed out from getting fucked to within an inch of his life, his tumultuous eyes curved faintly, even carrying a hint of a sweet smile. He was very good-looking when he smiled, eyes a deep, rich black with a sheen of arrogant purple from certain angles. Right now, he dragged Rong Jiu onto the bed by his hair, and casually picked up a shard of the broken bowl from the ground, holding it by Rong Jiu's face.
He had always avenged every grievance; right now was no different.
Thinking about how much he had taken care of Rong Jiu and his business in the last lifetime, how he'd even thought about buying his freedom, and how Rong Jiu had paid him back by scheming against him with others, his eyes couldn't help but curve into a smile as he pressed the shard against Rong Jiu's cheek.
This person's body was his business; without this face, he would have nothing.
He would be forced to wander the streets like a dog, to crawl on the ground, get kicked, and suffer all kinds of spurn and abuse…he was so delighted by the mere thought that even the disgust he felt from fucking this person just now vanished like smoke.
Mo Ran's smile became even more lovely.
Just a tad of pressure, and a thread of blood, captivatingly red, seeped out.
The unconscious person seemed to have felt the pain and groaned softly in a hoarse voice, looking quite pitiful, with tears still clinging to his eyelashes.
Mo Ran's hand suddenly stopped.
He remembered a dear friend.
"..."
Then, he suddenly realized what he was in the middle of doing. It took a few seconds of him being in a daze before he finally, slowly, lowered his hand.
He had done so much evil that it had become habitual. He even forgot that he had been reborn.
Right now, everything had yet to happen, the irrevocable mistakes had not yet been committed, and that person…still lived. There was no need to walk the same cruel path; he could do it over.
He sat down and propped his foot on the bed, absentmindedly toying with the piece of broken porcelain in his hand. Suddenly noticing the oily pancake that still sat on the table, he grabbed it, peeled off the wax paper, and tore into it with his teeth, eating until crumbs flew everywhere and his lips got shiny with grease.
The pancake was this brothel's specialty. It was nothing special, especially compared to the delicacies he tasted later on. But ever since this place had gone bankrupt, Mo Ran never got to eat it again. Now, the familiar taste of the pancake, through the turbulent events of the past, once again returned to the tip of his tongue.
The unreal feeling of rebirth lessened with every swallow.
By the time he finished the pancake, he finally woke up from the stupor he had been in this whole time.
He really had been reborn.
Everything hateful in his life, everything that he couldn't take back, all of it had not yet come to pass.
He had not yet killed his uncle and aunt, not yet razed seventy two cities to the ground, not yet betrayed his teacher and ancestors, not yet gotten married, not yet…
No one had died yet.
He savored the taste in his mouth, licking along his teeth and feeling the thread of joy in his chest ballooning rapidly into a feverish excitement. He'd rebuked Heaven and Earth in his last life, dipping into all three of the forbidden techniques of the human realm. He had mastered each of the other two; only the last one, "rebirth", had eluded him regardless of his talent.
Unexpectedly, that which he had failed to obtain in life fell effortlessly into his lap in death.
All the distaste, the repugnance, the desolation, the loneliness, all of his complicated feelings from his previous life were locked in his chest. The sight of the army marching on Sisheng Peak, fire lit for ten thousand fathoms, still remained in his mind.
That time, he really had not wanted to live anymore. The people all said that his very existence cursed all who came close to him, that he was fated to die alone. Everyone had turned their backs on him. Toward the end, even he himself had felt like the walking dead: senseless, lonesome.
He didn't know what had gone wrong and where, for an irredeemably wicked person like himself to get the chance to redo everything after ending his own life.
Why destroy Rong Jiu's face over such a measly grudge from so long ago?
Rong Jiu loves money. He would just not pay this time, and take some silver on top, to teach him a lesson. As for his life, he didn't want that burden just yet.
"I'm letting you off easy, Rong Jiu."
Mo Ran said with a smile, tossing the porcelain shard out the window.
Then he emptied out Rong Jiu's jewels and valuables, tucking all of it into his pouch. He took his time dressing and arranging himself before leisurely strolling out of the place.
Uncle, aunt, cousin Xue Meng, Shizun, and…
Mo Ran's eyes softened at the thought of that person.
Shige[6], I'm coming.
[6] Older martial brother