Chapter 143: Shizun Turned Out to be My Pure Unattainable Love, My Bedazzling Passion, the Apple of My Eye, My Fated One

Now matter how slow Mo Ran could be, seeing this burning gaze, what more was there not to understand? He immediately replied, "Miss Ling-er, you've drunk a bit too much, we can talk tomorrow…" "I WANT TO TALK NOW!" This little girl could be ferocious too when she got tough; stands of her hair were loose, her eyes bright.

"..." Mo Ran didn't want to be bogged down and was about to make his escape using qinggong, but was stopped by her pulling on the corner of his sleeve. Mo Ran was both amused and annoyed, and demanded, "Let go of me." "No." They say booze gave one confidence, and besides, Ling-er had always had spunk. It hadn't been only a day or two that she wanted to get closer to this xianjun of Sisheng Peak, so she proclaimed loudly, "I FANCY YOU. DO YOU LIKE ME?" Mo Ran: "..." Seeing the man had no reaction, Ling-er got a little anxious.

Since the day Mo Ran arrived in Yuliang Village, she had thought this man looked mighty and heroic, then later she learned that this was the "Mo-zongshi" whose fame had been spreading in the past few years, and her girl's heart ballooned even more, unable to be stopped.

The busy farming season was about to end, Mo Ran would be leaving soon.

She was no more than a little chick of the Lower Cultivation World, the only thing she had to show for was a pretty face and her desirable figure. Although she didn't know how Mo Ran saw her, if she didn't confess now, another chance wouldn't come as easily in the future, which was why tonight she relied on being hammered to bolster her courage, following Mo Ran on his tail, and stopped him to confess her love.

Such torrent-like courage to tell the truth, even Mo Ran was a little astonished.

Ling-er's beautiful face was flushing bright red from holding her breath.

She thought, if Mo Ran accepted her, then it'd be great. Nevermind obtaining this handsome lover gege, but to gain this connection meant gaining the connection of Sisheng Peak, which meant she wouldn't have to be stuck in this crappy little village suffering the stench of pickles in the future. She would be able to live a comfortable life, and…

"Sorry, Miss Ling-er. I think you best let me go." With only one simple reply, and he easily shattered the floating pavilion in the sky in her brain.

The blush on Ling-er's face had yet to recede before paleness took over, and suddenly, her face turned terrible. A moment passed before she asked anxiously, "Am, am I not good looking?" "You look very good," Mo Ran was very polite as he gently pulled himself out of her grip, "But not my type." If what he said earlier still gave her some face, then the "not my type" crumpled it completely, ripping away the last dredges of her dignity.

Ling-er's eyes were instantly filled with tears. Heartbreak wasn't the main reason though. While she admired Mo Ran, her crush never went that deep, and it was instead her desire to climb higher that was the more important, and she felt more keenly the disappointment of having her beautiful dreams shattered.

"Then…" She held back her tears and asked, "What does your type look like?"

"I——" Her question however, managed to make Mo Ran stop.

What was his type?

Out of habit, he thought the type he liked looked like Shi Mei, but when the words came to his lips, suddenly he felt maybe that wasn't the case. All of a sudden he was at a loss, and he actually didn't know how to answer.

"Why won't you tell me, huh! What do you like?" Ling-er pressed on, her pair of beautiful eyes staring intently at Mo Ran's face, not letting go of any changes in his expression.

She was a pitiful person too; she had an older sister who married an ordinary fabric merchant from the Upper Cultivation World, and had moved to Leizhou Prefecture many years ago to live the good life.

She and mom had gone to visit her older sister before, carrying with them a bunch of peppered dried fish, but the brother-in-law resented the strong,

astringent smell of fish, and he thought they were too unsightly, extremely embarrassing to have living at his home, so it didn't take a few days before he sent them back. This cut deep in Ling-er's heart, and ever since the day she returned, she refused to succumb to her own shabby life, swearing that she would live better than her older sister, and return all the grief she suffered from before.

So in these years, she had always been seeking out outstanding figures to give herself away and change her fate.

She really didn't want to let Mo Weiyu go.

Thus, her infatuation was practically fueled by desperation, and under the influence of alcohol, she leaned into him dizzily. She possessed a soft and sensual figure, when she walked across the paddy fields in the summer, the men would all try to steal looks at her. She was betting, and wanted to use her warm and soft body to tear apart Mo-zongshi's armour.

"Why am I not good enough? You didn't even think, you didn't even consider,

and you rejected me just like that?" She pressed her hot and limp body on him, but Mo Ran felt uncomfortable everywhere, and he pulled and tore as he yanked her off of him, his face dark.

"Miss Ling-er, I've only known you for how long? How can I like you, why would I consider you?" "HOW WOULD YOU KNOW IF YOU DON'T TRY!" Mo Ran saw she was coming onto him again, and exclaimed immediately,

"Don't come any closer!" "You don't like me that much?" Ling-er's eyes widened, and said in disbelief,

"Not even a little… just a little…" "I don't like you, not even a little." Mo Ran thought maybe he wasn't clear enough, and a clean break was best for something like affection, so while it was a little cruel, he still added, "I am not interested, not even a little bit." Ling-er was speechless.

Not his type, she could understand.

But not interested…

How many unmarried men could face a woman who possessed an extremely good face and body, who threw herself willingly into his arms, and say with stern righteousness that he wasn't "interested"? That he could face such enticement from a beauty and felt not a shred of desire?

She was stunned, rooted to the spot for a good moment, then said, "How…

how could you… Why would you…"

She was finding it a little hard to say the words.

He actually wanted to say: How come you don't feel a bit of desire at all?

That's not normal.

Mo ran could deduce what she was thinking from her hesitation, but he really didn't want to explain further to her. They had merely met by chance, the woman wanted a one night stand but the man had no such intentions.

She could think of it however she liked.

Mo Ran said to her in a low voice, "Forgive me." Then slipped into the night.

The night breeze scraped at his cheeks, and he couldn't help but squint.

The conversation with Ling-er made him suddenly realize that maybe he had always been wrong about love.

Ling-er asked him, "What do you like?" It seemed he had never asked himself this question.

Those who rarely received warmth never had the right to too many choices.

Anyone who was particularly good to him, he would revere zealously.

"What do you like?" This was something he never dared think of in his conscience.

Everyone in this world in fact had their own unique taste and bias. When Mo Ran was little, he'd often hear in the streets the other children tugging on their parents' sleeves saying "I like eating that one, it has scallions," or "Mom, this red lantern looks better than the yellow one, I like red." But he couldn't utter the same thing, and it was pointless even if he did.

What he could afford to eat was only the cheapest plain dough pancakes, and he had to split half and half with his mother too.

Later when he was at the entertainment hall, he'd also peek at those sugar daddy rich young masters, saw them fan their silk fans and say languidly, "I like the one from last time, Cui-er, why don't we have her sing for this play too. She's refined, and her voice is sweet." or other such.

Truthfully, in Mo Ran's eyes, Cui-er jiejie was far from as pretty as Bairong jiejie, but who cared what he thought? Whether it be appreciating beauty or making decisions, that was the rhetoric of the rich. To Mo Ran, whatever others gave him was, was. He should be grateful if there was anything to eat, shed tears if there was anything to wear——"Like"?

He'd be no more than a raving lunatic. On what grounds could he like anything? How could he dare like anything? What right did he have to like anything? He only had a cheap life he had to struggle for with all of his power in order to pathetically keep.

After life went by like this for too long, this habit of hanging tightly onto something when he obtained it was ingrained deeply into his bones, and afterwards, no matter how much money and treasure surrounded him, no matter how the richest perfumes and fragrances only made him sneeze, he still couldn't conceal the wretched poverty in his bones.

Looking through Mo Ran's life, he spent his childhood penniless and frustrated, his feelings were like the dirt under the soles of a shoe, worthless. So "what do you like?" was something no one would ever ask him.

Later, after he had reached the top, those who the emperor appreciated accompanied him like accompanying a tiger, the others could only speculate what was on his mind, so "what do you like" was something no one dared to ask him.

However, just now, Ling-er suddenly asked him this. A few simple words and it stumped him.

He once thought that to love someone, they must be respected and held in his hand with the greatest care, never daring to sprout any wishful thinking.

The way he treated Shi Mei.   He thought that was love. There didn't seem to be anything wrong with that.

But right now, in this moment, he vaguely began to realize maybe things weren't as he imagined.

Did he really like gentleness more than stubbornness?

Did he really like sweet-tempered more than firm and unyielding?

Did he really like eyes as deeply affectionate as peach blossoms, more than the sharp and piercing frost of phoenix eyes?

Did he… did he really like Shi Mingjing? And not… and not...

He didn't dare think of that name, but the racing of his heart wasn't up to him,

and his blood had become hot and boiling.

Mo Ran was shocked by his own love and desire.

Love and desire were never meant to be broken up, never to be separated[3]. To be attracted to the other's appearance, be bewitched by the other's voice, the other's scent, even a single glance, wanting to conquer,

wanting to possess, wanting to leave his own scent on that flesh that originally had no connection to him, wanting to drive his fervor into the other's body.

He had always believed love was sacred, and the object of his love was never to be defiled.

But how could he really not defile him?

When the body of the one he loved ardently, the one he desired, the one he admired appeared before him, how could he withstand and hold back the heated lust, and remain unperturbed?

There were all manners of love in this world, but only romantic love had nothing to do with purity.

It was destined to be stained by hot and sticky sweat, to possess the colour of flesh, and it was destined to be the mingling of hairs, to have the thick astringence of heath blossoms[4]. It had to do with moans and passion, and it was destined to be the delicate and charming, plump and alluring stamen that could only breed from the wet mire that was a warmed bed.

Mo Ran fled urgently in the night, then came to an abrupt stop, his eyes bright and terrifying, his face astonished.

Something seemed to have snapped in his brain. The raging waves he had always suppressed by his complacency and stubborn foolishness was drowning him with overwhelming momentum, swallowing him whole.

He stood there rooted in horror.

Lust, desire.

Love.

Chu Wanning…

He finally dug this name out.

Cleared away the sand and dirt to reveal the precious treasure.

It had always been Chu Wanning… This intimate feeling, this blazing love, it had always belonged to Chu Wanning!

He felt his sight go black. Two lifetimes worth of delusion had been shattered, and the fragments of the brick tiles and walls were washed by the violent tide, crashing at his heart, making it hard to breathe.

He was astonished.

So, turns out… it was like this…?

The one he liked, his so-called love, had it been wrong all this time?

By the time Mo Ran returned to the bonfire party hugging the pot of pear blossom white, Ling-er was already gone.

Of course none in the crowd would notice the departure of a young girl, and of course no one knew her conversation with Mo Ran early. They were still drinking in merriment, lively as ever.

After three rounds of drinking, the villagers began to play games. They used a rice stalk to weave a grass ring, and asked a person to go up to beat the drums. When the drumming stopped, whoever the grass ring ended up with would be asked a question that they had to answer.

This was something fun the farming folks of the Lower Cultivation World came up with when they had nothing to do. The rules were simple, easy to get,

and even someone like Chu Wanning who had no connection to fun whatsoever could easily get involved.

"Alright, it's Lao-Bai's turn! Coem come, Lao-Bai, come draw your lot!" Looking miserable, Lao-Bai grabbed a well-folded sheet of paper from the giant bowl, opened it, and read out loud: "What looks better, a woman with large tits or fat ass?" The crowd burst into laughter.

Lao-Bai flushed with anger, and yelled with the slip of paper raised, "WHICH ONE OF YOU DUMBASSES THREW THIS QUESTION IN? I'LL FUCKING FUCK YOUR ANCESTORS!" "Don't." One of the villagers laughed, and tugged on his hem, "Don't go fuck the fucking ancestors yet, answer the question first." That wife of Lao-Bai's was also sitting there too, glaring at him with her bullfrog eyes, her glare making Lao-Bai's hair stand, and he hummed and hawed for a good while before whispering, "I think they're both pretty much the same." There was immediately someone who shouted with a laugh, "WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU SAYIN', DON'T LIE! You were just tellin' me the other day that women look better with a fat ass, better for giving birth, hey! What're you doin' not tellin' the truth! DRINK UP DRINK UP! PENALTY SHOT!"   Lao-Bai had no choice, so he grimaced with his miserable face and drank the liquor, and after that he got ear pulled and scolded by the wife good.

Chu Wanning was hidden in the crowd, feeling both awkward and curious watching this, but those kinds of questions were too vulgar, if they were posed to him, he would definitely have no answer.

Just then, the village chief happened to be holding a foot long black cloth, and said with a happy grin, "Let's change up the person drumming, switch LaoZhang out so he can play too. Who'll replace him?" Chu Wanning immediately responded, "I'll do it."

He walked over to the thick leather drum, took over the drumsticks, and took his seat.

The village chief tied the black ribbon blindfold attentively, then adjusted it around, "Is it tight?" "No." "Can you see through?" "No." The village chief smiles, "Then will xiangjun please beat the drums. Stop whenever you want." "Alright." Chu Wanning replied, then he picked up the drumsticks and knocked a couple times over the surface of the leather, then soon began to nimbly beat out close-knit drum beats, urgent and loud, varied and intricate.

 He was blindfolded, so he didn't notice at all Mo Ran's gaze on him over the bonfire, so complicated and confused, so lost and scared.

Mo Ran gazed at him; the sparks of the fire were flying, much like orange fireflies scattering into the black night. He gazed at that man in the black night whose white robes trained the ground. Inch by inch, like a sharp blade, his gaze scraped across Chu Wanning's forehead, the tip of his nose, his lips, his chin.

To him, the Chu Wanning who was blindfolded by a black cloth emitted a mysterious temptation, but this time, Mo Ran didn't let this temptation slip away so easily. He carefully chewed on it, licking it.

He found within the taste of love.

He felt once again the shock in his heart, and he verified it again… He wasn't mistaken.

He did feel love towards Chu Wanning. It had nothing to do with the love shared between a master and a disciple, and nowhere near kindness.

He was simply in love with him, desired him, and wanted him.

He…

Finally, he realized in hindsight, that he loved Chu Wanning.

It was love.

He couldn't believe he was that muddled, that stubborn, that dumb, that blind.

He couldn't believe it took until today before he was finally enlightened.

He was in love with Chu Wanning.

After he had figured out this fact, the grave mound that had always been piling over his brain finally caved in, and many of the things he didn't understand before, many of the answers he couldn't obtain, were all rushing forth in this delayed love.

But he hadn't had the chance to taste it, there wasn't enough time to turn it in his mind.

There was a DONG and the drum stopped, and the remaining sounds cleared like a ripple.

Not too fast, not too slow, that grass ring landed right on his knee just then,

and he picked it up in a daze. He looked up, just in time to see Chu Wanning sigh in relief and remove the black ribbon with a single hand, blinking open the pair of phoenix eyes streaming with moonlight, and gazing over, pure and perfect.

He was also curious, wanting to know where the wreath landed when he stopped drumming.

And so his eyes met Mo Ran's.

Chu Wanning, "..." Mo Ran, "..." There was nothing more awkward than when he was sneaking glances at you, you were also sneaking glances at him. The two gazes intersect, both a little evasive.

But Chu Wanning didn't evade for much longer. Because he suddenly realized in shock that Mo Ran's handsome face was currently enveloped in a confused and complicated tenderness and affection, and it crossed through the bonfire entwined with golden sparks, crossed through the bustling sea of people,

and revealed so straightforwardly, so scaldingly, without concealing it because it couldn't be concealed.

Chu Wanning slowly widened his phoenix eyes.

"Nice luck, Mo-xiangjun." The village chief laughs, pulling Mo Ran up.

Mo Ran hesitated for a bit, then put the woven grass ring in his hair as per the rules. His black eyes were very bright, but the person himself was a little at a loss. After putting on the crown, he stole another careful glance at Chu Wanning.

Then, that handsome face tanned so darkly actually began to gradually flush red under the firelight.

Chu Wanning was startled by his unusual reaction, and his eyes grew ever the bigger, fully round as he stared at him.

Under Chu Wanning's unconcealed gaze, Mo Ran lowered his eyes, pursing his lips and not uttering a sound, looking rather obedient and a little shy.

Much like the slow-witted young boys who, having reached the age of knowing what love is and falling in love for the first time, appeared so clumsy in every way, so stupid that it was a little pitiful, but also a little cute.

Chu Wanning, "..." If he was startled before, he was shocked now.

...Was he going blind?!

Otherwise, why would he think that this big but dumb little devil would suddenly become so melodramatic, like he'd gone insane?

Author's Notes:

Mini Theatre: How Come You Don't Have Any Reaction Jiang-er: Mo-xianju, how come you've got no reaction to me hugging you for so long? Do you have some sort of affliction? (Looks at him with contempt) Shall I call an old traditional doctor over to check on you? Secret medicine passed on from the ancestors, expert at erectile dysfunction.

Mo Ran: ...Miss, cut sleeve. Ya get?

Jiang-er:  Shook, your sleeves are cut? Want me to fix it for you?

[3] [爱欲] Love and desire in one word, encapsulating all emotions related to profound love such as affection, romance, love, lust, etc. Ironically, the word is separated into two in English, so some of that meaning is lost.

[4] Euphemism for cum :)