Chapter 131: Shizun Does Some Light Reading

Chu Wanning lay on his bed in the Red Lotus Pavilion that night,

tossing and turning, unable to find sleep. He contemplated how Mo Ran had

ended up growing into the man he was now. Mo-zongshi, Mo Weiyu; all he

could see when he closed his eyes were that man's handsome features, and

those bright, steady eyes that held determination and tenderness in equal

measure.

Chu Wanning cursed under his breath and kicked the quilt off the bed,

then proceeded to starfish on it while staring up at the roof beams in

torment. He tried everything to wade out of the ocean of desires, to cut off

the threads of desire. In the end, he was exhausted.

"Mo Weiyu, you bastard," he mumbled.

He turned his head away but couldn't escape the thoughts. It was

almost as if that hot, firm body from Melodic Springs was still right in front

of him—he could see the broad shoulders, the defined contours of his back,

and the way the water slid slowly down along the vee of his abs when he'd

turned…

Chu Wanning jolted from the bed, face ashen. He didn't dare finish

that thought. He grabbed the first book his hand made contact with like it

was a lifeline.

Poor, unfortunate Chu Wanning. To have led such a respectable life,

only to be reduced now to using books to distract his inner demons. He

didn't know which book he had grabbed out of the stack Xue Meng had

bought, but the pages were covered in densely packed rows of tiny writing.

Chu Wanning's eyes skated over the words without taking anything in at

first, so it wasn't until some minutes later that he realized what it was that

he was reading.

On that thin paper was written a very neat line of words:

SIZE RANKING OF THE CULTIVATION WORLD'S

YOUNG HEROES

Chu Wanning knew the words individually, but they didn't make very

much sense together. Young Heroes…Size…Ranking? What size? Height?

As he read further, he spied a note in small writing: This

observational ranking is not a comprehensive listing due to the fact that

some young heroes never bathe outside or visit pleasure districts. The

following individuals are missing from the ranking: Nangong Si and Xu

Shuanglin of Rufeng Sect, Jiang Xi of Guyueye, Xue Meng, Xie Fengya, and

Chu Wanning of Sisheng Peak…

Chu Wanning blinked. What was that supposed to mean? Surely their

heights were pretty obvious even without bathing publicly or going to

pleasure districts? And there was even a passing mention of himself… He

furrowed his brow and put a finger on the cramped lines to keep his place as

he read on, only to choke at the very first name on the list.

Mo Weiyu

Gongzi of Sisheng Peak, Mo-zongshi

Chu Wanning thought briefly back to Mo Ran's figure. To be fair, he

had gotten quite tall—but surely not so tall as to rank number one?

Reading on, it said: Seen when bathing at the Hall of Abundant

Virtues; an absolute unit, truly awe-inspiring.

Chu Wanning blinked in confusion. Bathing at the Hall of Abundant

Virtues… Absolute unit…?

Something felt vaguely off to Chu Wanning, but he really was much

too pure of mind, and couldn't puzzle it out even after ruminating on it for

quite a while. Thus, he could only keep reading.

The person ranked second was a wandering cultivator he'd never

heard of. Written beside it was: Seen when bathing in the forest; mighty.

"What is this gibberish." Chu Wanning was a little put off. "Perhaps

shoes and hairpieces could add to a person's height, but not so much that it

would make a difference. Why go so far as to spy on people bathing? Why

would this kind of trashy book be popular…"

Then he saw the third name—

Mei Hanxue

Direct disciple of the Kunlun Taxue Palace Sect Leader

The text beside it was different this time; instead of "seen when

bathing," it read: Measured by one of Chunying Pavilion's girls and

corroborated by a number of women from the cultivation world; Meigongzi's endowment could leave a lady so pliant that her body would be like

water and her bones like mud, and could also readily service ten people a

night.

It was dead silent for a long moment.

The Yuheng Elder's head exploded into a droning buzz. Face red-hot

and gaze flickering, he flung the booklet across the room with great vigor

like it had burned him, incensed beyond belief.

What had he just read? What size?! Even if he was dense, he wasn't

that dense. What other size could it be?! Filthy! Shameless! Indecent!

Disgraceful!

Even after stiffly sitting in bed for a long while, Chu Wanning was

still furious. He got up, picked up the booklet, and blasted it into a million

tiny pieces with a pulse of spiritual energy from his fingertips. But like a

glowing-hot branding iron, the words absolute unit, truly awe-inspiring had

already been seared into his heart with a hiss, leaving his face flushed and

his heart thundering.

Chu Wanning was a very proper, very upright person. Earlier, at

Melodic Springs, he had very consciously kept his eyes up, never so much

as glancing in the direction of any place he wasn't supposed to. Besides, all

that steam made everything so hazy he wouldn't have seen anything

anyway. But with a few words, this filthy tome had managed to paint the

image before his eyes. Worse still, words often presented even more fertile

ground to the vivid imaginings of the mind than pictures.

Absolute unit…

Chu Wanning dragged his hands down his face. After a long pause, he

grabbed the quilt and pulled it over his head. It was only his first day out of

seclusion, and he'd already had the misfortune of suffering this. The times

sure had changed, Chu Wanning bitterly thought—he'd almost rather lie

down and go back to being dead!

Nevertheless, the Yuheng Elder had always held himself to the

highest standards. So though he barely got a wink of sleep that night, and

regardless of how aghast and unsettled he felt inside, he still rose the next

day on time, got himself washed and neatly dressed, and drifted gracefully

down from the southern summit of Sisheng Peak with a countenance that

was nothing short of dignified and restrained.

Today was the day of the sect's monthly assessment. The Platform of

Sin and Virtue glinted with flashes of sun reflecting off light armor as

thousands of disciples performed their martial arts drills under the

appraising eyes of the elders on the platforms high above. Though he had

been absent for five whole years, Chu Wanning's seat was still right where

it used to be, on Xue Zhengyong's left. He ascended the bluestone steps

wearing a weary expression and white robes that trailed on the ground, took

his waiting seat with a sweep of those broad sleeves, and leisurely poured

himself a cup of tea to sip while he watched.

Noting his sullen expression, Xue Zhengyong suspected Chu

Wanning was mad about Mo Ran missing the banquet last night, so he

leaned over and soothed him in a low voice. "Yuheng, Ran-er's back."

But contrary to expectation, this only earned him a scowl that

twitched between Chu Wanning's brows and an even more deeply sullen

expression. "I know, I already saw him."

"Ah? Already saw him?" After a pause, Xue Zhengyong nodded.

"Great! So, what do you think? He's changed quite a lot, eh?"

"Mn…"

Chu Wanning didn't want to talk about Mo Ran, especially

considering that he had been cursed with the words absolute unit, truly aweinspiring echoing incessantly in his head since yesterday. Neither did he

plan to look for Mo Ran in the sea of people below. Instead, he looked down

at the table.

"That's a lot of fruit and pastries."

Xue Zhengyong grinned. "You haven't had breakfast yet, have you?

Go ahead and eat."

Chu Wanning didn't bother with polite refusals. He picked up a lotus

crisp to eat with his tea. The crisp had a pleasing pink gradient from the

darker base of the petals to the pale tips, with a filling of red bean paste and

flaky layers that bore the refreshing sweetness of osmanthus flowers.

"These taste like they're from Lin'an's Breeze Bakery…" Chu

Wanning murmured, then turned to Xue Zhengyong. "They weren't made

by Mengpo Hall?"

"Nope. Ran-er brought these back just for you." Xue Zhengyong

grinned. "See, the other elders didn't get any."

Only then did Chu Wanning belatedly realize that the wooden table

before him was the only one laden with piles of fruits and snacks, from

pastries to sugared desserts. There was even a small, jade-colored porcelain

bowl that, when he lifted the lid, turned out to hold exactly three sweet

tangyuan. Rather than the usual kind made with white glutinous rice, the

skins of these round tangyuan were made with lotus root powder, a Lin'an

specialty, so that they were the translucent color of jade.

"Oh yeah, Ran-er borrowed the kitchen at Mengpo Hall this morning

to make those. The red one has rose and red bean paste filling, the yellow

one is peanut sesame, and the green one's apparently got some fancy teabased skin made with powdered Longjing tea. Interesting flavors, these; it's

too bad there aren't more," Xue Zhengyong mumbled. "They're real fancy

and all, but he was in there all morning and only made three."

Chu Wanning eyed the tangyuan in silence.

"Yuheng, is that enough for you?"

A long pause. "Mn." Chu Wanning nodded.

In fact, any time he ate tangyuan, he only ever ate three. The first was

sweet, the second had a nice aftertaste, the third was enough, and a fourth

would be too much. It was a lucky coincidence that Mo Ran had happened

to make exactly three, no more and no less, just the way he liked it.

Chu Wanning took up the porcelain spoon and scooped up one of the

adorably round lotus-powder tangyuan. He held it to his lips, marveling at

how it was just the right size, perfect for eating in one bite—quite unlike the

ones Mengpo Hall made for the Lantern Festival, which were so big that

they stuck to his mouth and took some effort to chew. The person who had

made these tangyuan seemed to know exactly how much his mouth could

hold, the exact size the balls needed to be in order to fit comfortably in his

mouth. Even the gooey filling seemed to be mixed with untold intimacy.

The thought made Chu Wanning's heart flutter for some reason, in the

brief moment before it was crushed by shame and swept under a semblance

of cool composure. "He's a pretty good cook."

"Too bad he only made them for you. No one else gets any, not even

his poor uncle." Xue Zhengyong sighed ruefully.

Chu Wanning said nothing. He pressed his lips lightly together as he

listened, stirring idly at the soup left in the bowl. The tangyuan were gone

by now, the perfect measure of sweetness slowly spreading in his heart.

Once he'd finished the food, Chu Wanning paid no mind to the

spirited drills down below, opting instead to pick up a book from the table

that chronicled the events at Sisheng Peak over the last five years. These

records were all managed by Xue Zhengyong, so they were simple and

straight to the point. Chu Wanning read it cover to cover in no time. As he

started to close the book, he noticed another volume beneath.

"What's this…" He picked up the thread-bound book; it was

shockingly thick.

Xue Zhengyong glanced over with a grin. "Another present from

Ran-er. He was too embarrassed to give it to you personally 'cause he

accidentally got blood on it while taking care of some fiends on his way

home, and some pages got ripped too. He asked me to put it on your table

this morning."

Chu Wanning nodded and flipped open the book, slender fingers

trailing across the first page. On it was written in a neat, straight script:

Dear Shizun.

His eyes opened a little wider in surprise. Letters written to him? His

heart suddenly felt like it had been singed by fire, hot and agonizing. He

lifted his eyes to look for Mo Ran in the sea of people below but found only

endless rows of glistening armor, like light reflected off the scales of

leaping fish. The person he sought was nowhere in sight. Chu Wanning

turned back to the letters.

Mo Ran had missed his shizun every single day of his seclusion. He

had lots of things he wanted to say and worried that he wouldn't remember

them all, so he'd had a sturdy book made, a thick one with one thousand

eight hundred and twenty-five pages in total. On each day of those five

years, he would write his shizun a letter about whatever he did or saw, big

or small, from the particularly gross leaf-wrapped sticky rice cake he'd had

the misfortune of tasting to the insights he'd gained from cultivation

training that day. He wrote everything down.

He'd originally planned for the book to have exactly one thousand

eight hundred and twenty-five pages, no more and no less, so that the day

he wrote the last letter on the final page would be the day his shizun

emerged from seclusion. But there were days when he couldn't stop

writing, the words pouring out ardently in tiny handwriting squeezed onto

the page, as if he wanted nothing more than to show Chu Wanning the seabuckthorn flowers of Outer Mongolia and the hazy fog surrounding

Changbai Mountain; wanted nothing more than to tuck the delicious sweets

tasted that day between the pages to share with Chu Wanning when he

awoke.

The pages were lined with rows upon rows of minuscule characters.

There was written nothing too sentimental, nor did he include aught sad or

upsetting, only committing the happy, brilliant moments to words, setting

down only the good to share with Chu Wanning. Still, the book had run out

of pages, and he'd had to attach a thick stack of letters to the back…

Chu Wanning flipped slowly through the book, his eyes stinging a

little. He watched Mo Ran's handwriting transform, from childish to neat to

elegant. The ink on the most recent letter had not yet dried, while that on

the earliest page had already yellowed.

In every letter, the words "Dear Shizun" appeared a little different.

Slowly, gradually, they went from light and brisk to sure and steadfast.

Until, toward the end, they flowed like a painting yet could cut through

metal, each confident stroke an art unto itself.

Flipping to the last page, Chu Wanning touched the words on the first

page again.

Dear Shizun, Dear Shizun.

As he looked at that neat handwriting, he could almost see the tip of

Mo Ran's writing brush lift from the paper, could see him set it down and

raise his head, no longer the young man of the past. From the first letter to

the last, he could almost see Mo Ran growing up, from sixteen to twentytwo, his figure becoming taller, his features more defined. And, every day

without fail, this young man would sit down at the table and write a letter

addressed to him.

"Shizun!"

The drills had ended without him realizing. Someone was calling to

him. Chu Wanning looked up to see Xue Meng waving excitedly from the

very front of the Platform of Sin and Virtue. Next to Xue Meng, a tall man

with broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and a pair of long legs stood quietly,

his face flushed from the drills and a sheen of sweat over his forehead, sleek

as a panther's coat under the sun.

Noticing Chu Wanning's eyes on him, Mo Ran paused and broke into

a smile. In the golden light of morning, his smile was bright and

mesmerizing, like the gentle swaying of a sun-bathed cypress. His eyes

were filled with warmth, his lashes were dipped in gentleness, and that

strong, spirited mien was a little bashful, yet so vibrant and fiery as to steal

one's breath.

How very handsome he was.

Chu Wanning maintained a carefully neutral expression as he crossed

his arms where he was sitting on the high platform and peered loftily down.

To any observer, he appeared cool and collected as ever. Little did they

know that his thoughts were actually in utter chaos, his insides tied into a

million knots of flustered panic.

Grinning within the milling crowd, Mo Ran raised a hand and pointed

at his own clothes, then at Chu Wanning. Chu Wanning narrowed his

phoenix eyes and looked back at him in confusion.

Mo Ran smiled even wider. He cupped his hands around his lips and

silently mouthed something to him.

Chu Wanning was even more confused. The morning breeze danced

through gently rustling leaves. Mo Ran stifled an exasperated smile and

shook his head, then tapped the front of his own robes with a finger.

Chu Wanning looked downward. A beat later, his ears turned red.

Under the guidance of his disciple, the esteemed and dignified Yuheng

Elder finally realized that, in his hurry to get ready this morning, as he'd

reached into the mess of clothing heaped together in the Red Lotus

Pavilion, he had unwittingly put on the robes he had "borrowed" from

Mo Ran last night.

No wonder it had felt like there was something dragging on the

ground behind him as he walked today! It was the hem of the robe!

Mo Weiyu, the cheek of you. Chu Wanning turned away in a huff. You

tactless bastard; why do you only ever say exactly what you shouldn't!