There was nothing for it; even if the little shidi couldn't stop sneezing, they still had to get going. The feathered tribe led them eastward, to a port on the Yangtze River. They summoned a self-navigating ferry, and, with a barrier shielding the vessel, set off to sea.
That night was the first time Mo Ran got to spend time with Shi Mei on an outing without Shizun around, but strangely, he didn't seem to feel as excited as he thought he would.
Xue Meng and Xia Sini had already gone to bed. Mo Ran lay alone on the deck, arms folded behind his head, looking up at the starry sky.
Shi Mei came out from the cabin with some of the dried fish they had bought from fishermen earlier and sat down next to Mo Ran. The two of them nibbled idly at the snack while chatting.
"A-Ran, since we're going to the Peach Blossom Springs, we might not make it to the Spiritual Mountain Competition. It doesn't matter much for me, but you and the young master are both so strong, won't you regret it if you miss out on the chance to make a big debut?" Mo Ran turned his head with a smile: "It doesn't matter, stuff like reputation and whatnot are just words, but going to the Peach Blossom Springs and learning real, useful skills to protect those important to me, that's what's important." Shi Mei's gaze seemed to smile, and he said gently: "That you would think this way, Shizun would be so happy if he knew." "And what about you? Are you happy?" "Of course I'm happy too." Waves crashed against the ferry, the wooden vessel rocking in the sea.
Mo Ran stared at Shi Mei for a while from where he was lying on his side. He wanted to tease him a bit, but then didn't know what to say. In his eyes, Shi Mei was pure and unattainable.
Maybe it was because of this purity that he found it difficult to have any of the lewd thoughts he had towards Chu Wanning when faced with Shi Mei.
Mo Ran spaced out for a while.
Shi Mei noticed that he was being stared at. He turned, tucking the stray strands of hair blown by the sea breeze behind a ear, and smiled: "What is it?" Mo Ran flushed and turned his head away: "Nothing." He was originally planning to use this outing as a chance to confess— carefully—to Shi Mei. But every time the words were at his lips, he couldn't open his mouth.
Confession.
And then?
Mo Ran couldn't be rough or forceful toward this pure, gentle person,. He was afraid of rejection, but even if his feelings were returned, he was afraid he wouldn't know how to act toward Shi Mei.
After all, he really did perform quite terribly during the short time they got to spend together in the last life... other than that one moment of intimacy inside the ghost mistress's illusion, he never even kissed him.
And not to mention, after what happened in this lifetime, he couldn't even be sure if that person in the illusion back then was Shi Mei or Chu Wanning anymore.
Shi Mei was still smiling: "But you really do look like you want to say something to me though." For an impulsive moment, Mo Ran wanted to just poke heedlessly through the thin layer of paper on the window[10].
But, for some reason, a figure dressed in white, with a face that didn't like to smile, flashed suddenly through his mind, a figure that always kept to himself, that looked so lonely.
All of a sudden, it was like his throat had closed off, and he couldn't speak anymore.
Mo Ran turned back to stare at the night sky full of stars.
A while passed before he said, quietly: "Shi Mei, you're really very important to me." "Mn. I know. You're the same to me." Mo Ran continued: "Did you know? I had a nightmare once, and in it you...
you weren't there anymore. I was so sad." Shi Mei smiled: "You're so silly sometimes." Mo Ran: "... I'll definitely protect you." "Okay, then I'll just have to thank my good shidi first." Mo Ran's heart caught, and he couldn't help saying: "I..." Shi Mei asked in a soft voice: "Was there something else you wanted to say?" The ferry shook, and the sound of the waves seemed louder somehow. Shi Mei looked at him quietly, as if waiting for him to say those last few words.
But Mo Ran closed his eyes: "It's nothing. Why don't you go back inside and get some sleep? It's cold at night." "..." Shi Mei was quiet for a moment before he said, "What about you?" Mo Ran was quite dim sometimes: "I…...I'm gonna watch the stars for a while longer, feel the breeze on my face." Shi Mei didn't move. It was a while before he smiled: "Alright, then I'll go ahead. Don't stay up too late yourself." Then he turned and left.
Beneath the boundless sky sky, the ferry sailed through the sea.
That guy lying on its deck had no idea what he had just missed; he was even a bit absent-minded as he tried to dig out just what it was that he really felt in the depths of his heart. He thought about it for a long time, but he really was dimwitted, and so, even by the time the morning sun painted the eastern skies a soft white, he still hadn't figured anything out.
He spent every waking moment with Shi Mei, and the feelings between them were deep and sincere. Mo Ran had thought that he would definitely want to confess to Shi Mei as soon as they were alone, unable to wait another moment.
But when the ferry reached the end of the bridge, he found that that wasn't the case at all. Maybe it was because he thought he was too clumsy, that if he were to go and rashly confess to Shi Mei right then, he'd definitely startle him, or, even if he didn't, it still wouldn't make for a good start.
He was more used to this hazy vagueness between Shi Mei and himself.
Sometimes his heart would flutter, he would reach out and take Shi Mei's hand as if without thought, and his chest would overflow with honey-sweet tenderness.
It was such a natural feeling that he didn't really want to immediately shatter it.
It was late by the time he went back inside the cabin, and everyone had already gone to sleep. Mo Ran lay on the sleeping mat, staring at the night outside the narrow skylight. Slowly, Chu Wanning's figure appeared before his eyes, sometimes silent with his eyes closed, sometimes with a severe expression on his face.
Of course, he also thought about the way that person looked when he was curled up, asleep, lonely and unassuming, like a haitang blossom that nobody cared for because it had bloomed too high up on the branch.
Putting aside the hatred, Chu Wanning's entanglement with him in the last life truly was deeper than that of anyone else in this world.
He had taken many firsts from Chu Wanning, regardless of whether he was willing.
His first kiss, his first time cooking, his first time crying.
And his first time.
Dammit, just thinking about it made his body feel hot and his blood rush downwards.
And, in exchange, he had given Chu Wanning some of his firsts as well,
regardless of whether he wanted them.
His first time becoming an apprentice, his first time coaxing someone, his first time giving flowers.
His first time being thoroughly disappointed.
And the first stirrings of his heart.
Yes, the first stirrings of his heart.
When he came to Sisheng Peak, the first person he fell for wasn't Shi Mei,
but Chu Wanning.
That day, under the haitang tree, that white-robed young man was so beautiful, so focused, that it only took one glance for Mo Ran to decide that he wanted this person to be his master, that no one else would do.
But just when did it all change?
Just when did the one he cared about become Shi Mei, and the one he hated, Shizun...
He had thought about it a lot during the last couple of months. It probably began with that misunderstanding.
That was the first time he had gotten lashed by Chu Wanning as punishment.
The fifteen year old boy stumbled back to his room, bruised and battered, and curled up alone on his bed, eyes rimmed red, choking back sobs. The wounds on his back had hurt less than the cold expression on Shizun's face when he brought Tianwen down without a thread of mercy, like hitting a stray dog.
It was true that he had stolen a haitang flower from the medicine garden, but he had no idea how precious that haitang had been, nor how carefully Madam Wang had tended to it for the last five years for one to finally bloom.
The only thing he knew was that, walking home at night that day, a luminous white at the tip of a branch had caught his eyes.
The flower's petals were clear and frosty, its fragrance mild and delicate.
He tilted his head back to admire it, thinking of his Shizun. There was a throbbing in his heart for some reason, and even the tips of his fingers felt warm.
Before he realized it, he had already plucked the flower, carefully and with the gentlest of movements, afraid of accidentally shaking off even a single drop of dew from the petals.
Through the thick curtain of his eyelashes, he gazed at that dew-laden haitang blossom under the light of the moon. In that moment, he did not yet know just how pure the tenderness and affection he held for Chu Wanning was,
nor did he know that, after that day—for the next ten years, twenty years, until death—he would never have it again.
Before he could give the flower to Shizun, he bumped into Xue Meng who had come to pick medicinal herbs for his mother.
The young master dragged him to Shizun in a rage. Chu Wanning turned from his scroll, his gaze ice-cold as he listened. He shot a glance at Mo Ran, and asked if he had an explanation.
Mo Ran started: "I picked the flower because I wanted to give it to..." He was still holding onto that haitang, with specks of frost and drops of dew still clinging to its freshly bloomed petals, frosty yet indescribably beautiful.
But Chu Wanning's gaze was too cold, so cold that it chilled the lava-like heat in his chest.
He could no longer say the word "you." That feeling was all too familiar to him. Before he was brought to Sisheng Peak, back when he had to scamper between songstresses and customers,
shrinking into his thin, undernourished body to appear smaller and less obstructive, he had spent every day under that kind of gaze—— That kind of contempt, that kind of disdain...
A shudder ran through him.
Could it be that Shizun actually looked down on him?
In the face of Chu Wanning's ice-cold interrogation, Mo Ran felt his heart freeze over. He lowered his head and said, quietly: "...I...have nothing to say." And the rest was history.
Just because of this haitang flower, Chu Wanning lashed him until all of his initial fondness shattered into pieces, forty strikes in all.
At that time, if only Mo Ran had just explained a little more, if only Chu Wanning had just asked a little more, then maybe things wouldn't have turned out the way that they did, maybe the master and disciple wouldn't have taken that first step on the road beyond redemption.
But there weren't that many what-if's.
It was at this point that Shi Mei, warm and gentle, appeared at his side.
After returning from Chu Wanning's place, Mo Ran didn't go eat, didn't even light a lamp, only lay curled up on his bed.
This stiff figure curled up in the darkness was the sight that greeted Shi Mei when he opened the door. He set the bowl of chili oil wontons in his hands gently on the table, then walked over to the bed and called, softly: "A-Ran?" Mo Ran did not yet have any particular feelings toward Shi Mei at that time.
He didn't even turn around, still staring at the wall with red, swollen eyes, and his voice was hoarse when he said:
"Get out." "I brought you some..." "I said get out." "A-Ran, don't be like that." "..." "Shizun has a bad temper, but it just takes a little getting used to. Come, get up and eat something." But Mo Ran was stubborn like a donkey, immovable even if dragged by ten whole horses.
"Don't want it. I'm not hungry." "...At least have a bite, if you don't eat, Shizun will get ma——" Mo Ran shot up from bed before he could even finish the sentence, his watery eyes angry and indignant, quivering slightly beneath his lashes.
"Mad? What would he even be mad about? It's my body, how is it any of his business whether I eat or not? He doesn't even want me as a disciple anyway, I might as well just starve to death, less hassle for him, he'll be happier that way." Shi Mei: "..." He hadn't expected his words to touch on Mo Ran's sore point like this, and was at a loss for a while, staring helplessly at the little shidi in front of him.
A long moment passed. Mo Ran pulled himself together and looked down,
long hair covering half his face.
Mo Ran: "...Sorry." Shi Mei couldn't see his face, only the subdued trembling of his shoulders and the veins on the back of his tightly clenched fists.
But the fifteen year old boy was still too young, after all. He tried to hold it in for a while, but couldn't in the end; burying his face into his arms, he curled into himself and bawled miserably, voice rough and broken, hysterical and lost,
pained and grief-stricken.
Body wracked with sobs, he repeated the same thing over and over—— "I only wanted to have a home... these fifteen years, I really... I really only wanted a home... why do you all look down on me... why do you all look at me like that... why, why do you all look down on me..." He cried for a long time, and Shi Mei sat with him for a long time.
When Mo Ran had cried enough, Shi Mei handed him a spotless handkerchief, then brought the bowl of now-cold wontons over.
Gently, he said: "Don't say silly things like starving to death anymore. You came to Sisheng Peak and apprenticed under Shizun, so you are my shidi. I also lost my parents when I was young, so if you want, I'll be your family. Come now,
eat something." "..." "I made these wontons. Even if you won't give Shizun any face, at least give me some, hm?" Shi Mei's lips curled into a small smile as he scooped up a plump, translucent wonton and held it to Mo Ran's lips, "Try one." The rims of Mo Ran's eyes were still red. Those watery eyes stared at the person by his bed, but he finally opened his mouth and allowed that gentle person to feed him.
Truth be told, that bowl of wontons had already gone cold and been soaked for too long, so it was no longer as good as it could've been.
But, in that moment, under the candle light, this bowl of wontons, that incomparably beautiful face, and those gentle eyes were carved deeply into his heart. In life and in death, never to be forgotten.
It probably began that night.
His hatred toward Shizun grew ever deeper. And that was also when he became convinced that Shi Mei was the most important person in his life.
After all, everyone wanted warmth.
Especially a stray dog that had frozen in the bitter cold so many times that the mere sight of salted roads made him tremble in anticipation of snow, of the coming of winter.
Taxian-Jun looked imposing, but only he himself knew the truth.
That he was nothing but a wandering stray. A stray that had always been looking for a place he could curl up at, a place to call "home", but he spent fifteen years looking and still he couldn't find it.
And so, his love and hate became laughably simple——
If someone gave him a beating, he would hate that person.
If someone gave him a bowl of soup, he would love that person.
He was only so simple, after all.
[10] Windows in ancient china were either open or lined with paper; in this case, the window paper is a metaphor for something known by both parties but that neither wants to say, the paper being easily breakable yet remaining intact until poked through