Chu Wanning was starting in on the last mantou when the door
swung open behind him. Mo Ran entered, carrying a pile of objects that he
placed on the bed.
"Shizun, there were some talismans and other things you didn't take
out of your outer robe. I'll put them here for you," Mo Ran said. Without
looking up, he turned and left again.
Truth be told, he really didn't have the courage to ask Chu Wanning
about the brocade pouch. No matter Chu Wanning's response, he couldn't
imagine such a conversation would be anything but unbearably awkward.
And this was to say nothing of Chu Wanning's thin face and Mo Ran's own
clumsy way with words. What was he to do if he put his foot in his mouth
and upset Chu Wanning?
Mo Ran pursed his lips. His dark eyes glinted and flashed, but his
thoughts were scattered and confused. Like a bolt from the blue, an
unspeakably outrageous idea popped into his head.
Could it be that Chu Wanning…actually liked him?
Shocked by the sheer audacity of this fancy, Mo Ran rapidly shook
his head. "No way, no way…" he mumbled.
Here was a perfect illustration of the inability to see the forest for the
trees—Mo Ran was far too deep in the woods. Had this brocade pouch
belonged to someone Mo Ran didn't care for at all, a random female
cultivator for example, he would've divined her feelings in an instant. Who
would keep a brocade pouch with a lock of another's hair entwined with
their own—and for so many years—unless they liked them? In principle, it
was a very straightforward scenario. But because Chu Wanning was
involved, Mo Ran doubted himself at every turn.
People were like this—the more they cared for someone, the more
prone their imagination was to run wild. Normally intelligent people would
become fools and have no idea what to do with themselves. A single glance
from the object of their affection would send them into deep obsession for a
day or more, and a moment's silence would prompt them to embark on a
painstaking investigation into the meaning hidden within. Mo Ran would
compulsively overthink the simplest of situations, carefully tasting each and
every detail in search of the most elusive of flavors.
Had he gotten it wrong? Had he misunderstood? Had Chu Wanning
merely forgotten to throw the thing out?
The problem was so elementary that anyone could have figured it out
with their big toe, but Mo Ran was stuck on it for ages. Worries filled his
wandering thoughts as he absentmindedly washed the clothes in the bucket.
He scrubbed and scrubbed, the water growing colder and colder as his heart
burned hotter and hotter.
Mo Ran found himself staring up at the cottage. Rich golden
candlelight shone through the paper of the window in its squat frame of
aged wood. The flame flickered: dark one moment, bright the next, not
unlike the tender shoot that had sprouted in Mo Ran's heart, shivering and
swaying.
If Chu Wanning really liked him…
Once, Mo Ran had been the unabashedly thick-skinned Emperor
Taxian-jun. But now, even this fleeting thought was enough to make him
blush. He felt hot, his throat dry. It was a thirst no water could slake—the
only thing that could ease the parched heat within him was the man inside
that room. Only the sweetness of his mouth could soothe Mo Ran and bring
him a moment of respite. Only the very man Mo Ran had sworn up and
down to cherish, protect, and respect.
Respect. Mo Ran felt his burning chest had been splashed with water.
He had always brandished this word to warn and rebuke himself whenever
his ardent desire for Chu Wanning threatened to overmaster him. But things
were different tonight. The brocade pouch was like a bundle of dry pine
kindling thrown onto the fire in his heart, fuel for his wildest fantasies.
Respect. You need to respect him, Mo Ran chanted to himself. But the
words were as futile as trying to douse a burning cart of firewood with a
single cup of water. Those words had once quelled his yearnings; now,
those same thoughts roared up into towering flames, instantly transforming
that cup of cold water into curls of steam that misted his vision. Mo Ran
found, much to his surprise, that this incantation of You need to respect him
was finally rendered completely, utterly ineffective.
Inside, Chu Wanning polished off the last mantou. Thinking to wipe
his fingers, he crossed to the bed and plucked the haitang handkerchief out
of the pile of odds and ends. He sighed, inwardly lamenting his lousy
memory—he couldn't even remember to take this stuff out of his robes
before washing them. Now he'd made a fool of himself in front of Mo Ran,
and who knew if he…
"Hm?" Before he'd completed the thought, he spied a fine red cord
peeking out from beneath a small mound of talismans.
His heart stuttered. He reached for the red cord to take a closer look,
but his hand froze midway, stalled by fear. After a moment's hovering, he
drew his hand back and slipped his fingers beneath his lapels to check the
spot right next to his heart.
His face instantly fell. The silk-tree flower brocade pouch was
missing!
Chu Wanning's expression was unsightly. He stood in shock for a
beat as he realized what had happened. The interior pocket of the formal
robes Xue Zhengyong had commissioned was slightly angled. Chu
Wanning had always kept the brocade pouch from the ghost ceremony
within his innermost robe, but he had worried it might accidentally slip out
with the angle and how smooth the robes' texture was. Thus, he had
removed it to the pocket of his outer robe.
He considered the heap of oddments with mounting panic. All the
candy and other miscellaneous little items were piled on top, with the
talismans stacked beneath. The red cord was right at the bottom. That it was
so obviously hidden made it all the more conspicuous—as though the
person who tried to hide it was saying, I didn't see it, I didn't see anything
at all, while waving his hands and blushing furiously.
After a lengthy silence, Chu Wanning reached for the end of the cord.
He held his breath, clinging to his last thread of hope, and tugged the
brocade pouch free from the jumble of talismans.
Ah… Of course.
The red cord of the brocade pouch had been tampered with. The knot
was not the one he always used.
Try as Chu Wanning might to stay calm, his fair skin flushed, and his
ears turned so red they looked ready to drip blood. He loosened the cord
and opened the pouch. The two locks of inky black hair had lain entwined
for so many years, too like the hidden feelings that had wound round his
heart just as long. Now, they tumbled starkly into the warm yellow
candlelight, soft and supple in his hand.
Mo Ran had seen his brocade pouch. And afterward, he had buried it
under all this random junk, obviously trying to pretend he'd seen nothing at
all.
This knowledge set off an explosion in Chu Wanning's head. His
heart pounded and his mind raced madly, his face burning like red-hot
coals. What to do? Had Mo Ran realized the feelings he had tried so hard to
hide?
…He was done for.
Mo Ran liked Shi Mingjing. If Mo Ran discovered what Chu
Wanning felt for him, he would definitely be scared off. Would the newly
gentle and warm relationship that had sprung up between them then
crumble?
Chu Wanning's thoughts were a mess as he clutched the brocade
pouch. It was a long time before he was able to calm himself. He could only
hope Mo Ran hadn't figured it out. He gambled on his established
reputation of being clear of heart and free of desire, and hoped Mo Ran
hadn't realized anything at all.
When someone's years-long crush was discovered by the object of
their affection, it would normally be cause for joy, a kind of liberation. That
wasn't quite the case for Chu Wanning. He was thirty-two already, and long
since used to being alone. Mo Ran and Shi Mei were in the most shining
years of their youth, but Chu Wanning had spent those years of his life in
solitude. It never occurred to him, now that he was in his thirties, that any
chance remained for him to find true love and companionship. After all, to
begin a relationship, one would first inevitably have to divulge their
feelings—yet this came with the terrible, grievous risk of rejection.
Chu Wanning tucked the brocade pouch away. He paced back and
forth in the room, eventually coming to a stop before the bronze mirror. He
gazed up into it. Years of disuse had left a thick layer of dust on the mirror's
surface, and he could only make out a blurry outline. He reached up and
wiped his hand across the mirror. Amidst the grime appeared a face that
was far from perfect. The corner of his eye landed exactly on a scratch in
the mirror. Chu Wanning blinked at himself.
"Hideous."
He suddenly felt so annoyed, so disappointed with the person looking
back at him. "Why do I…look like this?"
Mo Ran, he knew, liked men who were young, gentle, and pretty.
Chu Wanning managed to be precisely none of these things. His face was
unlined, but he couldn't hide the weight time's passage had wrought upon
his features. He had always been mature beyond his years, and now he had
not a hint of youthful passion remaining. How could he have the nerve to be
with a young person—his own disciple, no less? If word got out, never
mind his own reputation; it would be deeply embarrassing for Mo Ran and
Sisheng Peak.
And there was Shi Mingjing, whose incomparable loveliness had
only grown during the five years Chu Wanning had spent in slumber. Even
when he wasn't smiling, his gently curved eyes were like luminous peach
blossoms. Chu Wanning looked again at his reflection. The face looking
back was surly and arrogant. Between the two of them, only an idiot would
pick Chu Wanning.
Chu Wanning inspected the hazy yellow mirror. If he could reverse
the passage of time and induce this ugly face in the mirror to fall in love
while in his twenties, he might have harnessed the vitality of his youth to
rashly confess his feelings. Even if he came out worse for wear, he would
have survived. But he was now over thirty. His youth had fled, leaving
behind only his wretched, wary, unkind self—along with a ferocious face
that frightened children to tears.
Mo Ran was in the best years of his life, and Shi Mei was a beauty
who could topple nations. As for Chu Wanning? He was just some
unpleasant man who would never be young again.
He didn't dare ask for anything. He only wanted to hide. He only
wanted to continue like this, slow and steady. He wouldn't dare entertain
thoughts of reciprocation. If he could be allowed to quietly harbor these
unrequited feelings, to like someone in secret, to treat that person well in his
role as his shizun—then that would be enough, he thought. He would be
quite satisfied.
A creak sounded behind him. Chu Wanning didn't turn. Within the
bronze mirror, he saw Mo Ran enter the cottage, carrying a wooden bucket.
Neither spoke. The mirror was hazy, so Chu Wanning could only
make out a tall figure standing in the entryway. He couldn't tell what
expression Mo Ran wore or make out the shades of emotion within his
gaze.
Despite admonishing himself repeatedly to remain calm, Chu
Wanning couldn't stop his heartbeat from quickening. He didn't want
Mo Ran to see his look of embarrassment, so he untied his ponytail and
held the ribbon between his teeth. Dipping his head, he made a show of
putting his hair back up before the mirror.
Chu Wanning thought himself very clever. With the ribbon in his
mouth, he had the perfect excuse to avoid greeting Mo Ran. So—
Fingers brushed the back of Chu Wanning's ear. He froze instantly in
place. Though he tried to suppress it, a small shudder rippled through him.
Chu Wanning was unaccustomed to physical contact to begin with.
And here was Mo Ran touching his ear, Mo Ran's large, rough palm,
skimming the tender skin of his earlobe. Though it lasted but an instant, the
contact made Chu Wanning's back tingle all the way up his spine.
He looked studiously at the ground. If he raised his head now, he
feared Mo Ran would see that his face was unusually flushed, even through
the dimness of the room and the haziness of the bronze mirror.
He bit down on the hair ribbon and mastered himself with great
effort. "You're done with the laundry?"
"Mn." Mo Ran's voice was low and very slightly husky. Chu
Wanning felt him lean in. The chill air lingered on Mo Ran, but it couldn't
mask the sharply masculine scent radiating from him. It was enough to
make Chu Wanning's head spin. His thoughts blurred and slowed to a stop.
Mo Ran brushed back the stray wisps of hair at Chu Wanning's
temple. "Shizun, just now, I…" His words faltered.
Chu Wanning waited. What was Mo Ran trying to say? As he held
the ribbon between his teeth, eyes downcast, his heartbeat seemed to stall.
Whatever Mo Ran wanted to say seemed too difficult to speak aloud.
After a pause, he changed the subject. "Forget it, it's nothing. Are you
putting your hair back up? It's late."
Chu Wanning didn't reply. His singular thought was that Mo Ran was
standing entirely too close to him.
It was too hot.
"Are you going out?" Mo Ran asked.
"No, I was just going to wash the dishes," replied Chu Wanning.
"I'll help."
"My hands work fine," Chu Wanning shot back.
Mo Ran laughed awkwardly behind him, as if he didn't know what
else to say. "Shizun's hands work fine, but they're clumsy sometimes. I'm
worried you'll break a dish."
Chu Wanning couldn't muster a response. Noticing his silence,
Mo Ran thought he was annoyed. He reined in his smile and said earnestly,
"The water's cold outside. Remember to bring out some warm water and
mix it in."
The hum of Chu Wanning's reply sounded like both "mn" and
"hmph," unclear yet undeniably pleasant to the ear. The sound roused that
tender sprout in Mo Ran's chest, urging it to grow faster. His throat bobbed
slightly, and his shadowy gaze landed on the sliver of pale neck that showed
over Chu Wanning's collar when he lowered his head. He felt that same
vexatious thirst and swallowed on reflex—though he did so as quietly as
possible, not wanting Chu Wanning to hear.
Mo Ran took a deep breath and forced a smile. "This mirror is so
blurry."
"It hasn't been used for a long time."
"How can Shizun even see himself? Give me the ribbon—I'll comb
your hair for you."
With the length of lilac silk still held between his teeth, Chu Wanning
had no chance to demur before Mo Ran grabbed the ribbon. It would be too
strange to keep biting down on it, so he resentfully let go and allowed
Mo Ran to help him tie his ponytail. Feigning indignance, he snorted. "Do
you even know how? If you don't tie it right, I'll have to redo it anyway."
"Shizun, have you forgotten? At Peach Blossom Springs, I always
tied your hair for you."
Chu Wanning fell silent at once. His stint as Xia Sini was a
humiliating piece of his past that he had no desire to revisit. He closed his
eyes and scowled, letting Mo Ran comb out his hair. But with every stroke,
Mo Ran's palm lightly brushed against his ear. He felt horribly
uncomfortable, his scalp numb and his throat dry, and his scowl grew
deeper. "Are you just about finished?"
Mo Ran's chest rumbled with a deep laugh. "Ah, you're always so
impatient. Don't worry, I'm almost done."
His voice seemed even closer than before, like it was coming from
just behind Chu Wanning's ear. Chu Wanning found himself clenching his
fists within his sleeves. Perhaps it was his delusion—he felt that Mo Ran's
breathing was a little heavy, like a wild beast readying itself before it
pounced on its prey. Chu Wanning had the prickling sensation of being
watched, as if a ravenous tiger crouched behind him, preparing at any
moment to pin him against the bronze mirror, tear open his throat, and lap
up the blood that spilled from his veins.
Such perceptions could at times be startlingly accurate—it was just
that Chu Wanning's self-esteem was too low for him to credit his senses.
How was he to know that if only he looked up, he would see Mo Ran's eyes
in the mirror, bright yet shadowed, desire and reason clashing within, full of
sparks and smoke?
As Mo Ran grasped the sleek silk ribbon, the clearheaded part of him
commanded his body to diligently tie up Chu Wanning's hair. But the
darker half of his soul was gripped by fretful thoughts. What am I doing—
tying a ribbon? But this ribbon is being tied in the wrong place! He felt that
he should be shoving Chu Wanning against the dilapidated dressing table,
using the ribbon to blindfold him with one hand while gripping his chin
with the other. He should be kissing him voraciously, pressing him down to
taste the sweetness of his mouth and sucking on the soft tip of his tongue.
Clearly, he should be nuzzling at Chu Wanning's ear and licking the tiny
mole behind it; he should be breathing heavily against the shell of his ear
and asking softly, "Chu Wanning, my dear shizun. Why did you keep that
brocade pouch? Wanning… Wanning… Do you…like me?"
So painful was his yearning that he felt his heart would split open.
His blood coursed scaldingly hot through his veins as his eyes burned red.