>>dubcon
Unexpectedly, although Chu Wanning's dumpling-wrapping technique was clumsy, the finished product actually wasn't bad. The dumplings made by those long fingers of his were adorably round, lining up neatly on the table.
All three disciples were dumbstruck.
"Shizun actually knows how to make dumplings..." "Am I dreaming right now?" "He's really good at it, too." "Wow..." Of course their hushed mutterings didn't escape Chu Wanning's ears. Chu Wanning pressed his lips together, eyelashes fluttering imperceptibly, and even though he was expressionless as always, the tips of his ears grew a little bit pink.
Xue Meng couldn't resist asking: "Shizun, is this your first time making dumplings?" "...Mn." "Then how are you making them so nice-looking." "...It's not so different from making golems, just folding a few creases,
there's nothing to it." Mo Ran watched him from across the wooden table, gradually becoming lost in thought.
The only time he had ever seen Chu Wanning cook in the last life was after Shi Mei's passing. That day, he had gone to the kitchen and slowly made the wontons that were Shi Mei's specialty.
But before they could make it into the pot, they were struck to the ground by a Mo Ran who had lost all sense, the snowy wontons rolling all over the floor.
Mo Ran had no recollection at all of whether those wontons were round or flat, well-made or deformed.
The only thing he remembered was the look on Chu Wanning's face, the way he had stared at him without a word, with bits of flour still on his face,
looking strangely unfamiliar, somewhat at a loss, even a bit dumb...
Mo Ran had thought that he would get angry, but Chu Wanning had said nothing in the end, only bending over and, with his head lowered, quietly picked up the dirty wontons one by one, gathered them together, and then tossed them into the trash.
Just what was going through Chu Wanning's mind at that time?
Mo Ran didn't know; he had never thought about it, didn't want to think about it, and, truthfully, didn't dare think about it.
The dumplings were all done being wrapped, and the little snowmen carried them away to the kitchen to be boiled. In accordance with tradition, Chu Wanning put a copper coin into one of them; whoever gets it would have good luck.
It wasn't long before the snowmen brought back cooked dumplings,
complete with spicy and sour dipping sauce in the wooden tray.
Xue Meng said: "Shizun, please go ahead first." Chu Wanning did not decline. He picked up a dumpling with his chopsticks and put it in his bowl, but did not eat it, instead picking up three more and giving them to Xue Meng, Mo Ran, and Shi Mei.
"Happy New Year." Chu Wanning said mildly.
The disciples were taken aback for a moment before they all broke into smiles: "Shizun, happy New Year." As it happens, Mo Ran bit into the copper coin with a crack on the very first dumpling. He was caught totally off guard, and nearly broke a tooth on it.
Looking at the grimace on his face, Shi Mei laughed: "A-Ran is sure to have good luck this year." Xue Meng: "Tch, lucky bastard." Mo Ran, teary-eyed: "Thithunn, arenth you a litthle too gooth af pickihg dumphlingth, I gof it on the ferry firth one..." Chu Wanning: "Speak properly." Mo Ran: "I bhith my tonn." Chu Wanning: "..." Mo Ran rubbed his cheek and took a sip of the tea Shi Mei offered before the pain finally subsided a little, and he immediately began joking around: "Haha,
could it be that Shizun memorized which dumpling had the copper coin and deliberately gave it to me?" "You wish." Chu Wanning said coldly, then lowered his head and started eating.
Mo Ran wasn't sure if he was seeing things, but under the warm candlelight,
Chu Wanning's face seemed a little red.
After the dumplings, a sumptuous dinner prepared by the head chef was brought out, platefuls of meat and fish covering the entire table.
Mengpo Hall grew even livelier. From the seat of honor, Xue Zhengyong and Madam Wang directed the little snowmen to deliver red packets to every table.
A little snowman bumped insistently against Chu Wanning's knee, the stones it has for eyes rolling around as it stared at him.
Chu Wanning blinked: "Hm? Even I get one?" He accepted the red packet and opened it to find a handful of pricey golden leaves. A little lost for words, he looked up at Xue Zhengyong, only to see the carefree man grinning back at himself before raising the cup of wine in his hand toward him in a toast.
How silly.
But then again, Xue Zhengyong was really... really...
Chu Wanning stared at him for a while, and couldn't help the faint smile that curved the corners of his lips. He raised his own cup in return toward the sect leader, and downed it in one gulp.
Chu Wanning divided the golden leaves amongst his disciples. Three rounds of drinks later, accompanied by non-stop performances on the stage, the atmosphere at the table finally grew lively as well.
Mostly due to the fact that it seems the three brats have grown less afraid of him.
As for Chu Wanning, he's always been able to hold his alcohol.
"Shizun Shizun, let me read your palm?" Xue Meng was the first to get all tipsy.
He grabbed Chu Wanning's hand and held it in front of his eyes to carefully examine. If not for the three cups of wine in his system, he never would've dared to be this bold.
"Your life line is long but disjointed, which means your health isn't too good." Xue Meng mumbled, "You get sick easily." Mo Ran laughed: "That's pretty accurate." Chu Wanning shot him a glare.
"A long and slender ring finger, Shizun has good fortune with money." "Three lines from a common point, the love line branches off at its tip to merge down into the wisdom line, typically indicates a willingness to sacrifice for love..." Xue Meng stared at it blankly for a while before whipping his head up to ask, "Is that true?" Face ashen, Chu Wanning hissed between gritted teeth: "Xue Ziming, are you tired of being alive?" But Xue Meng, too drunk to detect the mortal danger he was in, just grinned sincerely and kept right on looking, muttering: "Ah, and, the love line forms an island shape, right beneath the ring finger at that, Shizun, your taste in people is dreadful… absolutely abysmal..." Chu Wanning had had enough. He ripped his hand away and brushed his sleeve down to leave.
Mo Ran was about to die of laughter, doubled over holding his stomach and cackling loudly, when he suddenly caught Chu Wanning's icy, murderous gaze and forcibly swallowed his laughter, his ribs aching with the effort.
Chu Wanning said angrily: "What're you laughing about? What's so funny?" He was just about to storm off in a rage when Xue Meng grabbed his sleeve. Immediately after, all the laughter disappeared from Mo Ran's face as Xue Meng pulled Chu Wanning down in a drunken daze and burrowed into his arms, with his forehead pressed against the folds of his Shizun's robes and his arms wrapped around his waist, nuzzling affectionately.
"Shizun..." Came the teenager's soft, velvety voice, complete with a tinge of acting cute, "Don't go~~ come come, have another round~" Chu Wanning looked like he was going to choke.
"Xue Ziming!! Wh-what do you think you're doing, let go!" But right at this moment, the little snowmen from the stage suddenly all clacked over. It turns out that Tanlang Elder's sword dance performance was over, and it was now Chu Wanning's turn to put on a show.
Unfortunately, this also meant that all the eyes in the hall turned collectively toward Chu Wanning just in time to see a drunken Xue Meng clinging to Yuheng Elder's waist and burrowing into the other's arms like a spoiled child. The other disciples were absolutely flabbergasted, with someone even holding their chopsticks upside down, all eyes staring unblinkingly at their corner.
Chu Wanning: "..." The scene was extremely awkward for a moment; Yuheng Elder could neither stand nor sit, locked stiffly in place by the way Xue Meng was clinging on him.
A long while passed in silence before two dry, forced chuckles came from Mo Ran's direction: "Come on, Xue Meng, still acting so spoiled at your age?" He reached out and tried to drag him off, "Off now, don't cling to Shizun like that." Xue Meng wasn't acting spoiled on purpose; in fact, if he still remembers this when the alcohol wears off, he'd probably slap himself silly.
But he was drunken beyond all sense right now, and Mo Ran had to pry and pull for quite a while before he finally managed to rip him off of Chu Wanning.
"Sit. What number is this?" Brows knitted, Xue Meng squinted at the single finger Mo Ran held out:
"Three." Mo Ran:"..." Shi Mei laughed and couldn't resist teasing him: "Who am I?" "You're Shi Mei, duh." Xue Meng rolled his eyes impatiently.
Mo Ran joined in: "Then who am I?" Xue Meng glared at him for a while, then said: "A dog." "..." Mo Ran roared, "Xue Ziming I will make you eat those words!" Suddenly, from the adjacent table, a Sisheng Peak disciple—who knows if he's just naturally courageous or if alcohol took away all his inhibitions too— pointed at Chu Wanning and gleefully asked in a high-pitched voice: "Hey young master, look over there, who's that?" Xue Meng, an authentic lightweight, couldn't even sit up any longer. He slumped over the table, propped his cheek in one hand, and squinted at Chu Wanning long and hard.
Chu Wanning: "..." Xue Meng: "..." Chu Wanning: "..."
Xue Meng: "..." The deadlock lasted for a long while, but just when everyone thought that Xue Meng was about to pass out drunk, he suddenly grinned widely and tried to grab Chu Wanning's sleeve again.
"Immortal-gege." The words were clear and unmistakable.
All of the disciples: "......" "Pfft." There was no way to tell who started laughing first, but everyone lost control and joined in. Even if Chu Wanning's face was gloomy and his fuse was short,
they figured that if everyone was in on it, then it's not like he could pull out Tianwen and whip every single person here. And so the lively Mengpo Hall roared with laughter, everyone chiming in over meat and booze, adding to the chaos.
"Haha, immortal-gege." "Yuheng Elder is so pretty that he does look like an immortal." "If you ask me, I'll have to use a common saying. Every time I see him I think of it." Someone asked: "What saying?" "Other than the three layers of snow on you, who under the skies would be fit to don white." "...You are so uncultured." Chu Wanning's face went through a roulette of colors before he finally decided to fake composure and pretend not to have heard at all.
He was used to being revered by everyone from a distance, but this sudden closeness born of the festive atmosphere and the abundance of wine left him at a complete loss. Faced with such a situation, he really didn't know how to react at all, and could only force himself to fake a calmness that he didn't feel.
But the bloom of pink on his ears betrayed the frozen-over expression on his handsome face.
Mo Ran noticed. He pressed his lips together and said nothing, but for some reason, a burst of jealousy surged irritatingly through his chest.
It's not that he didn't acknowledge Chu Wanning's good looks, but, like everyone else, he knew well that Chu Wanning's beauty was a sharp kind, like the edge of a blade, and that he was cold as snow and frost when he wasn't smiling, forbidding approach.
From his dim and narrow perspective, Chu Wanning was like a plate of savory, aromatic crispy meat, but put into a filthy, broken box, and he was the only one in the entire world who had opened the box and gotten to taste the deliciousness inside. He didn't have to worry about someone else finding out about this delicacy and drooling over it.
But tonight, bathed in the warmth of the stove fire and tipsy from the warmed wine, so many pairs of eyes were turned to that box that used to be of no interest to anyone.
Mo Ran suddenly felt nervous. He wanted to cover the box and chase away these people salivating after his food like swatting away annoying flies.
But then he remembered that, in this life, the crispy meat didn't belong to him. His hands were full with clear, translucent wontons, he had no time to chase away the wolves salivating after the meat.
To the surprise of Mo Ran and the others, Chu Wanning actually did come prepared with a New Year's show just like the other elders: a guqin performance.
The disciples were starry-eyed, and someone whispered: "Who would have thought that Yuheng Elder knew how to play the guqin..." "And he's so good at it, too, I nearly forgot to taste the meat." Mo Ran sat there quietly without a word. Xue Meng had fallen asleep a while ago, breaths deep and even from where he was sprawled on the table. Mo Ran took the jar of wine by his hand and filled his own cup, drinking from it as he listened while staring at the person on stage, lost in thought.
The irritation in his chest grew worse.
In the last life, Chu Wanning didn't play anything at the New Year's Eve feast.
Very few people knew the way he looked when playing the guqin.
There was a guqin made of paulownia wood in the courtyard when he was being kept prisoner by Mo Ran. One day, maybe to vent his frustrations, he had sat by it, closed his eyes, and played a song.
The sound of the guqin drifted through the air, attracting birds and butterflies alike. When Mo Ran returned, the sight that greeted him was that of Chu Wanning's profile in the courtyard, indescribably lofty and serene.
And just how had he treated him back then?
Oh, right.
He had pushed him down and fucked him next to the guqin, violated this man who was clear and cold as the light of the moon right there in the courtyard.
Mo Ran cared only about chasing his own pleasure, not even sparing a thought for Chu Wanning's pain and discomfort, even disregarding the fact that it was already winter, and his Shizun, who couldn't handle the cold, was lying there on the ice-cold cobblestone with his robes torn off, getting fucked by him until he really couldn't take it anymore and passed out.
Afterwards, he didn't fully recover even after months of careful tending.
At that time, Mo Ran had said to him in a chilly tone: "Chu Wanning, from now on, you're forbidden from playing the guqin in front of others. Do you have any idea, the way you look when playing is so..." He pressed his lips together, but couldn't find the right words, so he didn't finish the sentence.
It's so what?
It was clearly a serene, dignified look, but for some reason, it was so alluring as to destroy all of his self control.
Chu Wanning said nothing, lips pale and eyes closed, the set of his eyebrows stern.
Mo Ran raised a hand and hesitated for a second before touching the tightly knitted space between his brows. Taxian-Jun's gestures were almost gentle, but his voice was still cold and ruthless.
"If you don't listen, this venerable one will chain you to the bed, and then you won't be able to do anything but sleep with this venerable one. Don't think this venerable one won't do it." And just how had Chu Wanning responded back then?
Mo Ran took another sip, watching the person on the stage, and continued his melancholic recollection.
He couldn't be sure; maybe he had said nothing.
Or maybe he had opened his eyes and coldly said—— "Get the hell out." He couldn't remember clearly anymore.
In that life, he had been entangled with Chu Wanning for so long that many things had become blurred at the edges.
Eventually, like a beast, he knew only one thing: Chu Wanning was his.
Even if he didn't like him, he was still his to sunder and to ruin. He'd rather rip Chu Wanning apart with his own hands, bite through his ribcage and tear out his organs like a beast, than to allow someone else to touch him.
He wanted Chu Wanning's blood to course with his desire, his bones to bear his curse, and his body to be filled with his passion.
Wasn't he always so virtuous and untouchable?
And in the end? Didn't he still have to open his legs for the world's evilest villain, on the bed of the most ruthless tyrant, to have his life be taken by the man's fiery weapon. He defiled him, made him dirty, inside, outside, everywhere.
Shredded clothes weren't so easy to put back on.
Mo Ran closed his eyes, knuckles white, heart hammering.
Sunken deep into his memories, he could no longer hear the lively merriment of New Year's Eve festivities, or the soothing sounds of Chu Wanning's guqin.
All that remained in his mind was a callous, crazed voice, swooping back from the past and hovering like a vulture.
"Hell is too cold. Chu Wanning, I'll take you to the grave with me." "That's right, you're god, you're everyone's light, all of them, Xue Meng, Mei Hanxue, and all the common people are just waiting for you to shine on them.
Chu-zongshi, how very saintly of you." The voice laughed sweetly, laughed and laughed, until it suddenly became cruel, like a soul split in half, thundering, "But what about me! Have you ever shined on me! Ever given me any warmth? All you've ever given me were these scars on my body! How very saintly of you,
Chu Wanning!' "Your body is mine, and your life too. You want to be their fire, but I'll taking you to the grave with me, I'll make you shine on my dead body and nothing else.
I want you to rot with me." "Living or dying won't be up to you..." Suddenly, there was a loud cheering and applause.
Mo Ran's eyes flew open. His back was drenched in a cold sweat.
The performance had ended, and all of the disciples were clapping enthusiastically. Sitting in the crowd, Mo Ran felt his vision pulsing and blurring,
fading in and out. He watched Chu Wanning walk slowly down the wooden steps, holding a guqin made of paulownia wood.
In that moment, for the very first time in this life, he suddenly felt that it was all so absurd, that his past self must have been mad.
Chu Wanning wasn't actually a bad guy... why was he even... doing any of this?
He swallowed, feeling the burn of the alcohol down his throat, but feeling no less at a loss, exhausted and confused, until finally, he fell into a drunken oblivion.
Author's notes:
Mini theater "Each Actor's Inner Thoughts" Mo Weiyu: I feel like a lunatic in my past life, no matter how I look at the script from the director, I'm playing a psycho. This script is unbearable, but I have no choice but to obey.
Xue Meng: I feel like I'm a straight man, but the director actually made me cling onto Shizun for attention today. This script is unbearable, but I have no choice but to obey.
Shi Mei: I feel like A-Ran has changed, the director said the one he likes is me, but today he didn't even look at me. This script is unbearable, but I have no choice but to obey.
Chu Wanning: I feel like I don't want to act bed scenes, but the director said… I don't care what he said, drag him outside, beat him up, if he dies I'll take the fall. I'll let him know what it means to have no choice but to obey.