AT DUSK, a light flurry of snow began to fall on Chonghua's border, until it gradually blanketed the ground d in a layer of pristine white. The wheels of lumbering carriages and the feet of passersby left uneven trails across the expanse.
The meat pie seller Wang Er-mazi shouted with all his might as his breath puffed out in dense clouds. "Meat pies, meat pies! Fresh out the oven!" He clanged the gong next to his oven as he peddled his goods. "There's nothing thicker than the pies I bake-other than Gu Mang's face! C'mere and get yours quick!"
Everyone who heard snickered to themselves.
This pie stall had been in business for more than a decade, and a few years ago, Wang Er-mazi had sung a different tune indeed. Back then he had crowed, "Look here, look here! General Gu's favorite pies! My dear customers, if you eat them, you'll be just as successful and invincible as General Gu-guaranteed!"
A strikingly outfitted cavalry troop slowly made their way toward him through the swirling snow, headed by a youth who looked to be about seventeen. Luxuriously dressed in brocades and furs, he was the picture of indolence with his handsome and mischievous little face bundled beneath his thick fur collar.
This young man was named Yue Chenqing, and he was the deputy general of the garrison troops. He was possessed of two profoundly formidable talents. The first was being very agreeable-as the ditty fent, "What's the point of getting all mad? If I got sick that would be real bad. No one's happy when I'm mad; it's such a pain and makes me sad." Yue Chenqing understood this concept to a tee, and he hardly ever lost his temper. He was the most good-natured young master of them all.
The second talent was making himself comfortable as comfortable
as possible. He never stood if he could sit, nor sat up if he could lie flat. Yue Chenqing's favorite thing to say was, "I'll drink all the wine I've got tonight and mooch off my bros tomorrow." He never deprived himself when it came to enjoying nice things: he downed all his liquor the day he received it and took women to bed without wasting time on talk.
As for patrolling...he'd have his fun, and then he'd patrol.
The frontier fortress at the northern pass had many markets like this, most of which sold things like animal hides, herbal medicines, spirit stones, and slaves. These places weren't terribly interesting, but compared to the bitter tedium of army life, they made for a decent way to pass the time.
"I'll take that seven-tailed spirit cat."
"Go buy that guhuo niao tail feather for me too."
"The tumbleweed at that stall looks good. It'll definitely make effective medicine. Get me ten baskets."
As Yue Chenqing walked, he directed the retinue following him to purchase all sorts of goods. Although the members of the retinue felt uneasy seeing him shirk his responsibilities, they couldn't say much to a deputy general.
Over the course of his walk, Yue Chenqing began to feel a little hungry and looked around for something to eat. He suddenly heard Wang Er-mazi shouting in the distance, his raucous voice ringing through the snow.
"Meat pies for sale! Meat pies as thick as Gu Mang's face! C'mere and take a look!"
Upon hearing this sales pitch, a corner of Yue Chenqing's mouth twitched. Aiya, this guy has the guts to use Gu Mang for his own ends? Doesn't he know that Gu Mang is a taboo subject with our commander, Mo Xi? If Mo Xi heard, we'd all be doomed.
Yue Chenqing quickly led his horse forward and was about to scold the man when the strong, savory aroma of the meat pies hit him in the face. Just as Yue Chenqing's reprimand reached the tip of his tongue, he swallowed it-along with the drool about to drip down his chin.
The stallkeeper Wang Er-mazi looked up. "Officer, a pastry for you?"
"...I'll have one, I guess."
"All righty!" Wang Er-mazi nimbly grabbed a golden-brown pie from the oven with his tongs and stuffed it into an oilpaper bag, which he passed to the customer before him. "Here you go. Careful not to burn yourself. You gotta eat these pies while they're hot!"
Yue Chenqing accepted the piping hot pie and took a crackling bite. Scalding juice flowed out from the crispy golden-brown pastry as the flavors of wheat dough, ground meat, and crushed peppercorn blossomed on his tongue. Their smoky scents filled the air in an instant, and he swallowed hungrily.
"Tastes as good as it smells," Yue Chenqing couldn't help but exclaim in admiration.
"Doesn't it? Everyone knows my pastries are the best," Wang Er-mazi bragged in delight. "No matter how famous Gu Mang got way back when, he always came to my stall and ate a batch as soon as he returned to the city after a battle!"
Once he was done boasting, he made sure to add, indignantly, "Traitor, I'd have put some poison in those pies and nipped that in the bud for the good of the people!"
bud fe careful with that kind of talk," Yue Chenqing said as he chewed. "Also, you'd better change up that slogan of yours."
Wang Er-mazi's eyes widened. "Why's that, Officer?"
"Doesn't matter, just be good and listen to what this officer says."
Yue Chenqing took another huge bite of the meat pie, his cheeks bulging. "We'll be going to war with the Liao Kingdom soon, and I'm afraid our troops will be stationed here for a good long time. Watch out. If you keep shouting about Gu Mang all day," he snickered, "you might end up jabbing a certain dignitary right where it hurts."
The dignitary Yue Chenqing spoke of was, of course, their com- mander: Mo Xi.
Mo Xi, granted the title Xihe-jun by the late emperor, had been born into the prestigious Mo Clan. This clan had produced four such generals, including both of Mo Xi's grandfathers and his father. Having come from such a remarkable lineage, Mo Xi's innate spiritual power was of course extremely potent, and after studying under the cultivation academy's most severe elders, he'd attained the highest rank of general and commanded hundreds of thousands of soldiers.
And he was a mere twenty-seven years old.
Due to his family circumstances, Mo Xi's temperament was as cold and sharp as a knife's edge, and he was ever decisive and determined. His father had often warned him, "Overindulgence will blunt your blades, so do your work and ignore the maids." Thus Mo Xi was assiduously ascetic and self-disciplined, wholly free from corruption. One could have said that he'd lived twenty-seven years without ever making a single major mistake.
Except for Gu Mang.
For Mo Xi, Gu Mang was like ink on paper or mud in snow, the suggestive smear of blood left upon the pristine white of a gentle- man's bedsheets.
He was the stain on Mo Xi's life.
After nightfall, a clarion melody pierced the skies in the barracks of the frontier fortress. The opera singer's voice was languid and slow as it drifted, ghostlike, across the frost.
"Rain falls soft over Yuchi Pavilion; sun shines down on Jinni Hall. Let wine and music flow for all; mean although their lives may seem, matters of ants are not so small..."
The soldier guarding the deputy general's tent looked left and right, the very image of a startled quail. At the sight of a tall, black- clothed silhouette approaching, he couldn't help but pale and lift the tent flap in panic. "Uh-oh! Bad news!" he cried.
"What's up?" Inside the tent, Yue Chenqing yawned atop the general's seat of honor and opened his eyes, propping his chin on his hand.
"Aiya! Look at the time! Deputy General, you should hurry and go on patrol-stop watching this show."
"What's the rush?" Yue Chenqing said lazily. "There'll be plenty of time after I'm done." Then he turned to the performers in the tent. "Don't just stand there, keep singing."
The music floated up into the clouds, the singer's voice like a faint silken ribbon drawn out high and long. "In that shade will a kingdom rise, a lifetime's work etched in his eyes. Qi Xuan's teachings only partly gleaned; when will the east wind wake me from this dream?(2)"
"Aiya, my dear Deputy General Yue, my good deputy general, please stop their singing," the personal guard said anxiously. "What on earth is all this?"
Life is brutish and short, so we should find our joys where we can." Yue Chenqing happily chewed on his fingernail. "Otherwise, our days would be sorely lacking in spice."
"But if Xihe-jun sees a display like this, he'll get angry again..."
"Xihe-jun isn't here, so what are you worried about?" Yue Chenqing chuckled. "Besides, Xihe-jun stalks around looking dour all day long. He doesn't put any effort into cheering himself up. He's a grown man but he still throws a fit if he hears me tell a dirty joke- how exhausting would it be to try and keep him happy?"
"Deputy General." The guard seemed close to tears. "Lower your voice... Please..."
"Hm? Why?"
"Because, because..." The guard's gaze flitted toward the gap in the tent flap. "B-because..." he stammered.
Yue Chenqing sprawled out on the general's seat and even plopped Xihe-jun's silver fur coat on his head. "Did Xihe-jun spook you guys?" he laughed. "Why're you stuttering as soon as you say his name?" Yue Chenqing sighed. "Then again, Xihe-jun sure is some- thing. He's the one who wants to live like a monk, but he makes us all suffer in boredom alongside him. Look, in our whole company, there's not even a single female dog."
This was true. In all of Chonghua's military, the branch under Xihe-jun had it hardest. Although the troops under his command didn't lack for food or clothing, the man himself was boring and strict, just as Yue Chenqing said. It would have been fine if Xihe-jun merely insisted on personally avoiding carnal pleasures, but he forbade his subordinates from seeking out fun with girls as well.
Yue Chenqing clearly found the situation hilarious-he held back his laughter to sigh with a wholly feigned seriousness. "He's got every- thing going for him, except for the fact that he's way too controlling. Look, he's an obsessive clean freak overthinker with no hobbies or interests to speak of. What a waste of that handsome face."
The guard looked like he was watching a disaster unfold before his eyes. "Young Master Yue, stop talking..." he blurted out.
But Yue Chenqing didn't stop. In fact, he became even more excited. "Don't you feel pent up, like you're about to burst? Heh, while he's away, I'm gonna take the chance to cut you some slack. Tonight, let's have the brothers go have all the fun they like! We'll open the gates and host a beauty contest by the bonfire! I want to crown the prettiest girl in the nearby villages-"
"You want to crown who?"
A man's low voice cut through from outside. The tent flap lifted with a swish, and a tall man walked in, clad in silver armor that flashed like frost.
His uniform was proper and neat over his wide shoulders and slen- der waist, and his long legs were wrapped in military boots of black leather. His refined and elegant features made an indelible impression as he looked up with icy-sharp eyes. This was none other than the Xihe-jun whom Yue Chenqing had been having fun mocking-Mo Xi.
Why had Mo Xi come back now?!
At first, Yue Chenqing was struck dumb. When he came back to his senses, he shuddered, bundling himself up tighter in the furs.
"General Mo." Deputy General Yue put on a show of being pitiful.
"Why didn't you tell us you'd be coming back earlyyy-ahh!"
This "ahh" was due to Mo Xi, who, finding his whining unbear- ably disgusting, chose to summon a sword of spiritual energy and fling it a hair's breadth from Yue Chenqing's cheek.
Having narrowly avoided decapitation, Yue Chenqing scrambled up from the general's seat. "Xihe-jun, how come you're so violent?!" he demanded, pushing his hair out of his face.
"You're questioning me before I've had a chance to question you? Tell me, why are there women among my troops?" Mo Xi shot a glance at the petrified songstresses before turning back to stare at Yue Chenqing. "You brought them here?"
Yue Chenqing initially wanted to keep complaining, but he quailed the instant he met Mo Xi's eyes. "...Don't be like that. I was only listening to a song, okay? A famous song from Lichun. Does Xihe-jun want to hear it too?"
Mo Xi's expression was cold and annoyed. "Obscene music," he said irritably. "Drag them out."
Thankfully, he didn't end that sentence with, "And have them beheaded."
Yue Chenqing went back to whining as he curled up atop the general's seat, the picture of misery. "You're so coldblooded and heartless. I'm going to tell my dad you were mean to me."
Mo Xi glanced at him. "You can also get out."
Yue Chenqing was struck speechless.
After Yue Chenqing left in sulky silence, Mo Xi sat down alone in the tent. Stripping off his black dragon-skin gloves, he pressed pale, slender fingers to his temples and slowly closed his eyes. In the lamplight, he looked almost ill, his complexion sickly and pallid. That, paired with the restrained ruthlessness that always lingered in his eyes, made him look even more worn-down. He looked as if many things weighed on his heart.
Not long ago, he'd received a secret letter from Chonghua's imperial capital of urgent importance-a missive personally written by the current emperor of Chonghua and affixed with a blood seal that only Mo Xi had to read it three times over to be sure he hadn't misunderstood Gu Mang was returning to Chonghua.
Even now, the letter was tucked away in Mo Xi's coat, warmed by the heat of his chest, pressed where his heart beat strong and steady. Gu Mang was returning to Chonghua. This news was like a thorny bramble caught in his ribs, and it filled him with a prickling pain.
Mo Xi furrowed his brow, striving to suppress his black mood, but in the end, that burning rage still poured out. His eyes snapped open as a long, leather-clad leg kicked out and overturned the table in front of him with a loud crash.
"Aiya, General Mo!" The guard keeping watch outside the tent leaned in through the flap, uneasy with fear. "Please calm yourself. It's only natural to play around at Young Master Yue's age! It's this subordinate who failed to appropriately handle the matter and neglected to stop Young Master Yue from listening to that opera. If you want to punish or blame anyone, you only need say so, but by all means don't make yourself sick..."
Mo Xi whipped around. In the dim light, his eyes were like spark- ing flame. "Get out."
Silence.
"No one is allowed inside without my express permission."
"Yes, sir..."
The tent flap lowered again, leaving a terrifying stillness on either side. The only sounds were the wail of the northern winter's wind, the movements of soldiers in the distance, the soft crunch of snow beneath military boots, and the whinnying of the warhorses in the spirit beast encampment.
Mo Xi turned his head to stare down at the mulberries rolling across the floor. It was as if those berries were the heads that Gu Mang had personally plucked off these past few years.
He wondered how this person-who had committed so many cruel, wicked, and vile acts; who had betrayed his country, comrades, and friends; who had earned an evil reputation, blood debts, and deep hatred could have the courage to return.
How could Gu Mang have the nerve to return?
Mo Xi collected himself. Only after making a great effort to calm his mind did he take out the letter, worn ragged from repeated reading. The emperor had written in his upright, elegant hand:
The Liao Kingdom wishes to declare an armistice. To demon- strate their sincerity, they will escort the traitorous general Gu Mang back to the capital.
Gu Mang is of our Chonghua and once enjoyed our trust. Instead of repaying that trust with loyalty, he turned traitor for his own gain. For the past five years, he has plundered his mother country, ravaged the peace of his native land, slaughtered his former comrades, and forsaken his past friends. Such crimes cannot be pardoned.
In ten days, Gu Mang will return to the city in shame. With the need for vengeance so widespread, we cannot make a decision alone and urgently write to each noble lord for comment.
General Mo, although you are guarding the nation from afar, you are a trusted aide of ours. Therefore, your timely advisement is sincerely requested.
With regards.
Mo Xi stared at the secret missive for a long time, then burst out into mocking laughter. Traces of bitter pain and deep hatred gradually appeared on his face. Should he be killed, or kept alive for some other use?
At this point, Mo Xi didn't want to care anymore.
He and Gu Mang had their fights and their grudges; they'd talked of their dreams and shared wine from the same bottle. Over the course of being acquainted for more than ten years, from the days of their youth to the unfathomable changes later on, they'd weathered countless hardships together. Gu Mang had been his companion, his coal, his shixiong, his comrade-in-arms-and in the end, Gu Mang became an enemy he was meant to slaughter.
Their relationship had been doomed to fragility since the begin. ning. After Gu Mang turned traitor, Mo Xi broke off with him com- pletely, turning his back without hesitation on years of friendship. Nowadays, when people spoke of them, they probably all said some thing like, "General Mo and Gu Mang? They're as incompatible as heaven and earth, water and fire, a saint and a savage. Even love rivals would get angry at the sight of the other, let alone those two fighting on opposite sides of a war. They're sure to be at each other's throats for the rest of their lives!"
Deeply distraught, Mo Xi refused to think on this matter any further. Taking up the brush, he held it poised above the paper. Halfway through the word execute, his hand shook. Ink soaked through the silk paper.
The faint sound of a clay xun started up outside of the tent. Some little brat must have been feeling homesick; he filled the entire encampment with melancholy yearning as pale frost dusted the grounds.
Mo Xi fell into a momentary daze, his black eyes flashing with an unreadable light. In the end, he cursed softly and flung down the brush to grab the secret missive. Flames burst from his palm, reducing the letter instantly to ash.
As the ashes danced in the air, Mo Xi exhaled, forming them into a messenger butterfly that could travel a thousand miles.
"This subject once protected and recommended Gu Mang, and thus must bear blame for his treason. As for the trial, this subject should avoid suspicion and abstain from comment." He continued in a measured tone. "Mo Xi of the Northern Frontier Army wishes Your Imperial Majesty well."
He lifted his hand, and the spiritual butterfly swiftly flew off.
He gazed in the direction in which it had disappeared, thinking to himself that, with this, his decade-long entanglement with Gu Mang was finally settled. Gu Mang had murdered so many Chonghua sol- diers and broken the hearts of Chonghua's people; now that he had outlived his use and the enemy kingdom was sending him back, the officials of the court would of course rush to take revenge.
But Mo Xi had to stay at the frontier for another two years.
It appeared that he wouldn't be able to watch Gu Mang's execution.
Enemies, nemeses, adversaries. These were the final conclusions others would one day draw from their relationship.
His face devoid of expression, Mo Xi thought perhaps no one else would ever know that he and Gu Mang, who appeared to be incompatible, irreconcilable enemies-
Had, in fact, slept with each other.
Perhaps no one would believe it even if he said it out loud. Their ascetic and disciplined General Mo had once pinned Gu Mang to the bed and taken him ruthlessly. This immaculate saint had lost control on top of Gu Mang, sweat dripping down his chest as desire inflamed his eyes.
As for the fearsome warrior Gu Mang, who seemed to have been born from the fires of war? Gu Mang had been fucked to tears in Xihe-jun's bed, parted his soft lips in a plea for Xihe-jun's kiss, and allowed Mo Xi to leave smudged marks across his rugged and mus- cular body.
They were enemies, separated by a chasm of accumulated hatred only death could resolve. But before this had come to pass, before they had parted ways, these two youths had once been passionately chtangled-until love became one with desire. Until they were loath to part.