IN THE BLINK OF AN EYE, the Northern Frontier Army had spent two years guarding the border.
A hundred thousand troops set up camp for the night by the Fushui River. After one more long day of travel, they would return home in glory. The soldiers cooked their meals, fed their horses, and washed their clothes as a rosy sunset glimmered over the river's surface. The light shone down on the spirit beasts lying down by the river and the men bathing in the shallows.
"Yo, help me scrub my back. We'll be going home tomorrow, and if I show up covered in mud, my mom's gonna curse me right to death."
"Ge, you gotta help me shave later. I can't get it right on my own."
"Vain, stinky brat—three years of marching and I've never seen you care about your looks. Be honest, are you in a rush to go home and see that girl of yours?"
A group was chattering happily in the shallow waters, heckling each other as they tidied their appearances, their eyes filled with an unstoppable sweetness.
Clad in robes from their mothers' hands, the subjects of those yearning dreams(7)-these faraway sons were returning home. They would carry out their duties as they ought to, whether it was honor- ing their parents forward to. or wife; all marrying a of them had futures to look
Mo Xi was likely the only person in the whole army who had no such hopes. His parents were dead, and he had no wives. The entire capital of Chonghua longed for his return, but in a city ablaze with lights, not a single lamp was lit for him alone.
Thus Mo Xi's manner was as aloof as ever, his pale lips pursed be- neath that handsomely defined nose. Even though the battle fires of the past few years had gone out, their dying embers remained in his dark eyes. This made him seem all the more ruthless and repressed, as if he'd walked right out of a snowy night-as if what constricted him wasn't his armored silver belt or his leather military boots but rather rule and regulation.
"Xihe-jun, once we get back to the city, you can see Princess Mengze again." Yue Chenqing had finished bathing and was walking up from the riverbank. When he saw Mo Xi, he beamed. "You know what they say about distance making the heart grow-"
"If you want me to kick you back into the river, go ahead and keep talking."
Yue Chenqing shut up and gave Mo Xi a reverential bow. "General Mo, I get the feeling you'll attain enlightenment in this lifetime."
Ignoring him, Mo Xi stood on the riverbank and gazed at the distant mountains. He knew that just beyond these peaks lay Chonghua's imperial capital, which he had not seen in a long time. After a year of battles and another two guarding the frontier, he had spent a thousand days and nights away from home. It was true that he didn't know how Princess Mengze was doing.
And as for Gu Mang...
Mo Xi's eyes darkened.
Two years ago, Gu Mang had been sent back to the capital as a gift from the Liao Kingdom preceding peace talks. Somehow, he had kicked up a huge ruckus as soon as he arrived.
"Ha ha ha, after the city gates opened and the procession came in, what we saw of the renowned General Gu left us totally speechless."
"It was really something! I'll never forget that sight!"
Mo Xi still wasn't clear as to what they had seen. Although he had certainly heard tell of the situation where he had been stationed, it had all been fragmented snippets of passing conversations. Besides, the soldiers revered him to the point that the talkative ones shut up as soon as he appeared and greeted him with utmost propriety, performing obeisance and addressing him as "General Mo."
Mo Xi couldn't say anything to that. He could only nod, stand there for a moment, and coolly walk away. Naturally, when he returned to his tent, what awaited him would be a sleepless night of melancholy, staring at the tent poles as they swayed noisily in the wind.
Yue Chenqing had mumbled some things within earshot a few times, but what he said couldn't be trusted, since his stories changed with each telling. Mo Xi was very reserved and would never have asked of his own volition, so even now, he didn't know what exactly had become of Gu Mang.
He only knew that Gu Mang was alive.
That was enough.
Everyone said Gu Mang was Mo Xi's archenemy. There was a rumor in Chonghua that went as follows: If the traitor Gu Mang were to be defeated someday, the best end for him would be to take a sword to his neck, because at least that meant he'd die quickly. Second best would be to be captured and brought back to Chonghua, because at least then he'd die successfully. The worst possible conclusion for him would be to end up in Mo Xi's hands in the thick of battle-because that was an end that did not bear imagining.
It was said that Mo Xi had prepared three hundred and sixty-five methods of torture, such that he could try a new one on Gu Mang every day for an entire year; these would ensure that Gu Mang suf fered a life worse than the death he would be denied.
Yue Chenqing had smilingly told this rumor to hoping to a laugh. To his surprise, Mo Xi get Xihe-jun himself, didn't find it the least bit funny. Instead, he closed his eyes for a moment, then scoffed.
"You think I would treat him like that?"
"Um, it was just a joke..."
But Mo Xi entirely ignored Yue Chenqing's explanation. He'd been jabbed where it hurt. In that tent empty of outsiders, in that overflowing madness and obsession, he raged, "Don't be foolish. He chose this end, but now he's saying I forced him to it, that I'd take it out on him, that I would make him live a life worse than death..."
Mo Xi's eyes flashed red as he snapped, "Which one of us has been made to suffer a life worse than death-doesn't he know?!"
Yue Chenqing was rendered speechless, and he vowed not to mention it again. It looked like he had been right. Xihe-jun had been betrayed by his best friend, so even though he still appeared cool and collected from without, within, he had been driven to the edge. One more step and he'd lose his mind.
It was true that Mo Xi despised Gu wanted to personally tear Mang, SO much so that he open his rib cage and see for himself whether Gu Mang's blood was cold, whether his heart was black- he truly couldn't say if he felt something else as well, separate from that bone-deep hatred.
He'd known Gu Mang for half his life. Far too much had happened in that time.
Gu Mang was once a slave. He wasn't cruel by nature. He was only too focused on making a name for himself, and too blindly devoted to upholding the code of brotherhood. Unfortunately, the entirety of the Nine Provinces valued bloodline above all else. Even though the old emperor had taken pity on Gu Mang on account of his talents and made an exception to grant him the rank of general, after that emperor passed, his successor hadn't looked kindly upon the lowborn Gu Mang.
He grew jealous of Gu Mang, doubted him, and stripped him of his authority.
He even crossed a line Gu Mang couldn't possibly endure.
Mo Xi had watched Gu Mang fall into the abyss with his own eyes.
Mo Xi tried to persuade Gu Mang as a close friend, then argued with Gu Mang as a comrade. They were both assigned to the Bureau of Military Affairs at the time, and Gu Mang was in low spirits and rarely came to work.
Once, when Mo Xi found him, he was listening to music and drinking wine in a brothel, his head pillowed on a dancer's soft thighs. At the sight of Mo Xi, he closed those eyes that flickered with stars and flashed him a mirthless smile. "Xihe-jun, you've come."
Nearly insane with fury, Mo Xi threw open the door and strode into the room. Amid astonished cries, he slapped Gu Mang across the face. "Do you want to rot like this for the rest of your fucking life?"
Gu Mang was drunk. He grinned as he looped his arms around Mo Xi's neck and crooned, "Yes, noble Mo-gongzi; would you like to rot with me?"
"Fuck off!"
Gu Mang burst into laughter. "It doesn't matter. After all, you're a noble, and I'm a slave. I know you think I'm filth. I know that no matter how hard my army strives, how much blood is spilled or how many of us die, we're still meaningless in His Imperial Majesty's eyes. It's our fault that we weren't worthy of learning cultivation in the first place, yet somehow, despite our birth, still dared we to try."
After that, the emperor had dispatched Gu Mang from the capital, but Gu Mang never returned to report on his mission. People thought he must have died in some accident; many of his maiden admirers even cried for him.
For a long time, no news of his death reached Chonghua-until one day, a military report came swift from the front lines, saying Gu Mang had been seen in the Liao Kingdom's battle formations.
Gu Mang had defected.
The scandal burned through Chonghua like wildfire, setting everyone's temper ablaze. Only Mo Xi's heart seemed to freeze over.
He hadn't believed it.
Not until he saw it for himself, over the misty waters of Dongting Lake, where ships and water demons clashed to kill. The Liao Kingdom's tactics felt so familiar that they shattered Mo Xi's com- posure. He had seen these monstrously fearless strategies countless times before-on the sand tables Gu Mang had once pored over, and during every one of the Wangba Army's glorious battles.
Mo Xi told the commander in charge of the attack that they needed to call the barrier masters and switch to defensive tactics. They had to commit to total retreat and discontinue the fight; if they didn't, the whole vanguard would be buried at the bottom of the lake by the end of the day.
"I know how he fights."
But the commander ignored him. "Who does Gu Mang think he is? Could a slave-born brat defeat the gods such as I?!" a pure-blooded descendant of The grizzled, white-bearded noble's expression was full of arro- gance; he didn't think much of Gu Mang at all.
And so the fires of war blazed without end.
The imperial army that had weathered a hundred battles unscathed under Gu Mang suffered their first complete and utter defeat before the Liao Kingdom's warships. Boats powered by spir- itual energy exploded one after another while water demons burst out of the lake to tear cultivators apart. Fire stained the sky; blood dyed the water. Amid the wails of crushing defeat, Mo Xi mounted a sword by himself and flew to the Liao Kingdom's command ship.
The inferno raged on, black smoke spiraling endlessly upward.
The Liao Kingdom was a country that cultivated demonic magic, and the spells their cultivators used were savage and cruel. A crowd of hundreds struck forward to kill Mo Xi-
"Hold it."
A familiar voice called out, and a figure sauntered out from the dark cabin.
They met again.
Gu Mang had grown more tanned, and his physique was more toned, but those eyes of his hadn't changed: black and bright, as if they could see through all the world's machinations. His torso was bare, his slim and well-muscled waist bound with layers of bandages, and he wore a black coat draped over his shoulders, a bloodstained ribbon tied around his forehead-he had pulled it off the dead body of an imperial soldier of Chonghua.
Gu Mang leaned carelessly against the ship railing, narrowing his eyes as he looked ahead at Mo Xi. Then he grinned. "Xihe-jun, it's been a long time."
The wind blew in coppery gusts.
The war reports provided by scouts and the strategy at play in the battle of Dongting suggested that the Liao Kingdom's newest general was none other than Chonghua's former Beast of the Altar. Although Mo Xi hadn't said anything, he had still refused to believe it.
He thought, surely, Gu Mang couldn't be so awful. Despite all that had happened, the Liao Kingdom was evil, a a deeply cruel nation that revered only war. Gu Mang might have left Chonghua, but no matter what, he wouldn't have gone to Liao Kingdom territory. Mo Xi thought that person's nature never changed, a so he'd refused to believe anything before he saw the man himself. But now...
Mo Xi closed his eyes, swallowing thickly. After a long time, he only managed two words. "Gu Mang..."
"Hm?"
Mo Xi's voice was low, on the verge of shaking. "So you've truly stooped so low."
Gu Mang laughed in the blazing firelight, the wisps of black hair that framed his face fluttering slightly. He spread his hands with an almost flamboyant air. "What's wrong with this?"
Mo Xi said nothing.
"I think it's great. The Liao Kingdom values talent. Although it's not righteous to cultivate with black magic, everyone's treated quite fairly."
As Gu Mang spoke, he pointed at the gold-edged blue ribbon on his forehead.
"No matter how much of my life I devoted to your honorable country, no matter how many merits I achieved, I could never dream of attaining this kind of pure-blooded nobles' ribbon-all on ac- count of my birth." Gu Mang smiled. "But that's not true in Liao."
"That's the merit ribbon," Mo Xi to the snarled. "It belongs solely descendants of the martyred heroes. Take it off!"
Gu Mang touched the bloodstained ribbon with interest. "Is it?
This was worn by a cultivator who looked pretty young. I cut off his head and saw this ribbon was quite well-made. It'd be wasted on a corpse, so I took it for fun. What? Do you want one too?" His lips curled in a malicious smile. "You should have one of your own. Why are you trying to take mine?"
Mo Xi was practically incandescent with rage. "Take it off!"
"Xihe-jun." Gu Mang's voice was syrupy sweet, but his tone was laced with danger. "You're alone and surrounded, so where are your manners? You really think I wouldn't have the heart to kill you just because of our shared past?"
A black dagger wreathed in dark mist appeared in his hand.
"Almost all the men of your honored nation's vanguard have died at Dongting Lake today," Gu Mang said. "Mo Xi, even if you're strong, you're still only a deputy general-you couldn't persuade that dumbass old noble commander of yours. Even after so many died, he didn't come here to beg for mercy, while you've come to endanger yourself."
Gu Mang smiled at him. "Is it because you want to be buried with the deceased soldiers of Chonghua?"
Mo Xi didn't answer. After a moment of silence, he walked toward Gu Mang. His military boots left tracks through the fresh blood on the deck. "Gu Mang," he finally said. "I know that Chonghua owes you, as do I... You've done too much for me, so I won't fight you today."
"I'd like to see you try," Gu Mang scoffed.
"You asked if I wanted to be buried with the soldiers of Chonghua who died today... If my death will convince you to leave the Liao Kingdom," Mo Xi said, stepping closer, "then yes. My life is yours."
Gu Mang wasn't smiling anymore. He stared, eyes dark. "I really will kill you."
Mo Xi was yet unfazed; he merely glanced at Gu Mang's forehead and the bloodstained blue and gold ribbon. Slowly, he lowered his gaze to Gu Mang's face. "Then kill me. And afterward, remember to turn back."
This was the last time Mo Xi tried to bring Gu Mang back to shore.
A white eagle swooped off the ship's mast, and light flashed from the dagger-
There came a muffled ripping sound. Blood gushed from the wound in spurts.
The cold blade had stabbed into Mo Xi's heart, viciously tearing it apart.
"I did say I would kill you."
The dagger was still buried in Mo Xi's chest. Gu Mang suddenly sneered. "Who do you think you are? What right do you have to lecture me? You think that if you die, I'll feel guilty and turn back? Don't be a fool!"
Head held high, he glanced disdainfully down and sighed. "As a general, as a soldier, and as a person, you can't be too attached to past affections."
As he spoke, he slowly got down on one knee, resting an elbow carelessly on his raised leg as he took hold of the dripping dagger and pulled it out with a squelch. Fresh blood splattered out.
Gu Mang tilted Mo Xi's chin with the tip of the bloody dagger.
"Don't think I didn't know what you were planning. Xihe-jun, you weren't actually reluctant to fight me. You knew you had no chance of victory, so you chose to bet on my conscience with your life."
Blood gradually soaked through Mo Xi's clothes, but at that moment, he didn't feel any pain.
Only cold.
So cold...
He closed his eyes.
No. If I had Light was you brought the choice, I would never have even thought of fighting you, something you gave me; warmth was something me. All the blood that races through my heart is because
of you.
Without you, I wouldn't have made it to today.
"Sorry to disappoint," Gu Mang said blandly. "Mo Xi. If I were you, and I ended up in your situation, I'd prefer to bet on my ability to bring my enemy down with me rather than naively try to persuade my opponent to turn back. We were brothers once—this is the last thing I can teach you."
The final scene Mo Xi remembered before losing consciousness was a Liao Kingdom cultivator swooping in on a sword to say anx- iously, "General Gu, reinforcements are coming from the northeast.
An army of Mengze's healers, look—"
Mo Xi didn't hear the rest of it. Unable to hold on any longer, he fell forward and collapsed onto the bloodstained deck.
After this bloody battle, Chonghua confirmed that the traitorous general Gu Mang had defected to the Liao Kingdom and was serving the darkest country in the Nine Provinces. The old general had made a grave mistake. The army was devastated; of a vanguard that had been ten thousand strong, fewer than one hundred cultivators returned.
Mo Xi lay unconscious for weeks before waking. Gu Mang had slipped a knife between his ribs, but it hadn't been enough to make him stop and turn back.
He remembered the words Gu Mang had said long ago, before he left the capital...
"Mo Xi, for me, the way up is a dead end. I have nowhere to go- I can only fumble toward hell."
"Gu Mang..."
"That's enough." Gu Mang ordered a jug of wine from the waiter. Breaking the clay seal, he smiled as he poured two cups, one for him- self, one for Mo Xi. Gu Mang's eyes twinkled as the cups clinked, sending wine splashing. "Have another drink on me. From now on, your Gu Mang-gege is going to be a bad guy."
At the time, Mo Xi had shaken his head in exasperation, finding him unbearably flippant. Every word out of his mouth sounded so tongue-in-cheek.
Mo Xi had known Gu Mang for many, many years; his heart was so soft that he hesitated to stomp on an ant. How could a sweet child like that become a bad guy?
And what had happened in the end? The subordinates of this "sweet child" had killed Mo Xi's comrades. That "sweet child" himself had almost killed Mo Xi.
"Fortunately, Princess Mengze arrived in time to save you. That dagger was a holy weapon from the Liao Kingdom, tempered with demonic poison. If she had come any later, I'm afraid you would have died. Your wound will scar; you'll need to spend the next few months resting..."
Mo Xi didn't listen to anything else the healer said. He looked down at the bandages wrapped around his chest. The necrosis had been cut away, but something else seemed to have been gouged out of his heart alongside the dead flesh. He felt empty and hurt, dissatisfied and hateful.
It wasn't until much later, when Gu Mang suffered the consequences of his actions and was sent back to his old capital that Mo Xi felt the wound on his chest finally stop bleeding.
But it still ached.
Many years later, the night before the Northern Frontier Army returned to the capital, Mo Xi sat alone and sleepless in his tent, returned tasty wiping slightly damp eyes. He turned his face to the side, faint candlelight streaming through the muslin lampshade to illuminate his sharply defined profile. He closed his eyes.
Without a doubt, he was a loyal subject, and Gu Mang was a traitor. Mo Xi loathed him, and knew he was guilty.
But between his trembling lashes, Mo Xi seemed to see Gu Mang from the past, when they were both at the academy, that smiling face both sweet and mischievous. When he was happy, a sharp little canine would appear, and his eyes would glitter brighter than any star Mo Xi had ever seen. Back then, the sun shone splendidly and the elders droned on, while Gu Mang sprawled out over the desk, sneakily writing picture books starring himself as the male lead, smug and delighted because all the young ladies loved him.
Neither of them had foreseen a future like this.