Chapter 13: An Invitation from Murong Lian

"AH? Only Gu Mang? Wangshu-jun, you should probably get a few more of them," one young master piped up.

The two great noble lords, Xihe and Wangshu, both had reason to hate Gu Mang. Thus the young man didn't hesitate to scoff, "Given Gu Mang's current condition, it'd be impressive if he didn't ruin the mood."

Murong Lian had ignored him at first, his eyes locked on Mo Xi. But when he heard this last, the corners of his lips curved up in a smile. As soon they saw this sign, the juniors striving to ingratiate themselves with him all laughed as well.

"Ha ha, you're right. It's true that Gu Mang wouldn't be enough on his own. Him, attentive? Infuriating's more like it."

"You've given him your patronage before?"

"Everything else aside, he was an infamous manwhore. I was curious and wanted to have some fun, and you know, he—"

Before this young master could finish, he felt a sudden piercing chill at the back of his neck. When he looked around, he found that Mo Xi was staring at him, eyes like frost. That gaze was like a blade in the freezing night, so terrifying that the young master forgot what he had been about to say. He swallowed, breaking out in a cold sweat.

He shivered—what had he said wrong? But before he could think more on it, Mo Xi turned away. That sharp profile had sunk back into cool indifference, without the slightest ripple of disturbance.

It was as if the antipathy in his gaze a moment ago had been no more than the young master's hallucination.

"How funny you are," Murong Lian cut in, the picture of imperious laziness. "Who do you think Gu Mang is? He was once the highest-ranked general of Chonghua, my former slave, and General Mo's shixiong."

Mo Xi didn't respond.

"Even if he doesn't know how to serve anyone attentively, how could we bear to miss his presence at the banquet tonight?" As Murong Lian spoke, his venomous gaze landed on Mo Xi. "Now that General Mo is returned and coming to this little gathering at my manor, how could I be remiss in my duty as the host…to share?"

Mo Xi's eyes darkened with each word Murong Lian spoke. By this point, they resembled black clouds pressing in on city walls —the flames of wrath became an army thousands strong, lying dormant but murderous behind the veil of his lashes.

He did not want to see Gu Mang looking so wretched in front of these people.

But Murong Lian insisted on aiming for Mo Xi's fatal weakness, stabbing each word into his heart.

After this flurry of speech, Murong Lian drew back the corners of his mouth into a chilling smile. "General Mo, your great nemesis—your Gu-shixiong—aren't you curious as to how I've mastered him? Don't you want to see for yourself?"

In the end, the group went.

Wangshu Manor was a magnificent compound situated on the east side of Chonghua. The insignia of the Wangshu bloodline was a bat, and sigils in its likeness glowed year-round above the residence. Within the manor, the staff largely wore deep blue robes with gold trim.

As was custom in Chonghua, pure-blooded nobles wore clothing trimmed in gold, but the underlying base colors were assigned by imperial decree. For example, Xihe Manor's robes were black with gold trim while Yue Manor's were white with gold trim. At this moment, eight thousand exquisite holy lamps illuminated the sky, exuding an aura of extravagant hedonism. Halfway through the feast, everyone had relaxed; the juniors who had earlier been tense and restrained had grown lively and were milling about, drinking and playing finger-guessing games.

Murong Lian lay in repose on his daybed of xiangfei bamboo, his slender, icy-pale hand wrapped around a slim, silver drinking token as he poked idly at the aromatics in the incense burner.

Within was a type of narcotic fragrance from the Liao Kingdom. It was harmless if smelled from afar, but it filled those nearby with a surge of unbelievable ecstasy. However, the ensuing depression was thrice as strong as that joy. To keep experiencing the ecstasy, the incense had to be inhaled repeatedly and often, which made it an addiction difficult to quit. The late emperor had banned the stuff during his reign.

The sight of Murong Lian's rapturous expression, so hazy amid the smoke that he seemed like an illusion, filled Mo Xi with irritation.

Yue Chenqing was sitting next to him. As he peered at the smoke Murong Lian was inhaling, he found himself curious. He wanted to take a closer look, but Mo Xi stopped him.

"Sit down."

"What is that?"

"Ephemera," Mo Xi replied flatly.

Yue Chenqing was shocked. "Ah! As in the Liao Kingdom's ephemera?" He looked over anxiously. "Looks like Wangshu-jun's addiction is serious. No wonder he's so tired today."

"If you so much as think about touching that smoke, your dad will lock you away for years."

"My dad?" Yu Chenqing said. "My dad's not that harsh. At most he'd threaten to string me up and beat me. This stuff about locking someone away is obviously your idea, not his, General Mo."

Before Mo Xi could get angry, Yue Chenqing grinned. "But you don't need to worry. I'm not the least bit interested in that kind of illusory pleasure. I'm so likable, I don't need that ephemera stuff to be happy. There's nothing I can't bounce back from."

Unexpectedly, these last few words fell with perfect accuracy into Murong Lian's ears.

Murong Lian played with the ashes in the golden, beast-shaped censer. The suggestion of a faint, icy sneer slipped through his features. His voice was as indolent as the smoke as he said, "Bounce back? Pfft. Ephemera is worth its weight in gold. With only the Yue Clan's wealth at your disposal, you couldn't smoke it even if you wanted to."

Yue Chenqing didn't want to argue with him. "Yes, Wangshu-jun's bloodline is high and noble," he said nonchalantly. "Your wealth rivals that of the very nation. How could I compare to you?"

Satisfied, Murong Lian turned to Mo Xi. "Xihe-jun, you're sure you won't partake?"

Mo Xi's expression was frigid, which made Murong Lian lean back and laugh. "I nearly forgot. General Mo is in the habit of austerity. He's never cared for extravagance and waste. Ah, looks like this lord is the only individual in Chonghua who can afford to enjoy this Liao Kingdom treasure."

Mo Xi absolutely didn't want to talk to this man any more than necessary. The Murong Lian he remembered had already been the epitome of scum. Who could have imagined that after all these years, he could get even worse?

Murong Lian was proud of his rank as a pure-blooded noble, but he refused to work hard, instead sinking deeper and deeper into the muck. Now he could be described as a mindless wastrel, drowning in drunken dreams.

Li Wei was right: Murong Lian had indeed rotted down to the bone.

"My lord." Just then, the housekeeper of Wangshu Manor stepped in to report to Murong Lian. "The individuals from Luomei Pavilion have been brought as you ordered."

"Oh, excellent. Send them in."

The feast was getting rowdy, and the guests were all a little intoxicated. After the housekeeper received his instructions, he of course complied, clapping for the servants to bring in the best women and men of Luomei Pavilion to liven things up. Mo Xi turned, his pitch-black eyes staring falcon-like toward the door.

The beaded veil tinkled, and several rows of men and women were ushered in by the housekeeper. Each of them had their own charm—some were gaily pretty, some were innocently pure; humble or prideful, reluctant or willing.

Only Gu Mang wasn't there.

"These are the prostitutes sent from Luomei Pavilion. If you gentlemen take a fancy to any of them, feel free to take them out to play," Murong Lian waved a lazy hand. "They're no more than bastards, and it's on me if they die—this lord is treating you tonight. Now shouldn't you all be singing my praises and tearfully thanking me?"

The crowd jumped to flatter him.

"Wangshu-jun is such a breath of fresh air!"

"He's the emperor's cousin, after all. Anything he wants is only a word away. How enviable!"

The crowd licked Murong Lian's boots and began to noisily drag away the pitiful victims to accompany them in wine and amusement. All at once, the scene of the banquet blurred into debauched chaos.

"Pretty lady, what's your name?"

"C'mere, top up Gege's cup."

Mo Xi's expression grew darker and darker. Though he suffered it for a long while, he finally reached his limit and could listen no longer. But as he made to get up and leave, he heard Murong Lian speak, mirth in his voice: "Xihe-jun, is there no one here who pleases you?"

"You've had too much wine."

"I have not," Murong Lian scoffed. "And Xihe-jun shouldn't be in such a rush to depart. That person you want to see is here—it's just that his temperament is quite strange these days. He gets anxious when he's away from Luomei Pavilion, so he's been standing outside this whole time, refusing to come in." As he spoke, he filled his own cup, downing it in one draught. "If you don't believe me, take a look for yourself."

Mo Xi turned toward the doorway. Just as Murong Lian had claimed, the disjointed swaying of the bead veil revealed a silhouette in the shadows beyond, as if a wary beast were hiding in their depths, looking cautiously outward.

"Do you see?" Murong Lian said. "Why don't we bring him in to have some fun with you?"

When Mo Xi didn't answer, Murong Lian smiled. He stretched, his cheeks flushed red from drink, and shouted, "Hey, everyone, wait a moment!"

"What is it, Wangshu-jun?"

Murong Lian narrowed his eyes, the scorn and malice on his face instantly intensifying. "You're all so poorly behaved," Murong Lian said. "You rushed to take these beauties into your arms, but didn't any of you notice our noble Xihe-jun's lap is still empty?"

Mo Xi was rendered speechless.

Under normal circumstances, no one would dare make such jokes about him. But these young masters were mostly wastrels. A minor wound would make them refuse to step onto the battlefield, and a major injury would make them refuse to leave their sickbed. Few of them had ever worked directly with Mo Xi. Furthermore, they were drunk, so they spoke without a shred of propriety.

"Xihe-jun, the capital isn't like the army," one of them slurred with a grin. "B-beauties are everywhere, and those belonging to Wangshu-jun are the best of the b-best. Why would you d-decline his offer?"

"Even though he's in his most vigorous years, Xihe-jun's always busy with military matters. You ought to relax from time to time."

"Right? General Mo's been to countless battlefields but he's never entered a single veiled bed-canopy. Life is bitter and short, so you should enjoy the present," another snickered.

Yue Chenqing was still relatively sober. When he saw Mo Xi's expression, a sense of dread rose within him. "Come on now," he hurried to cut in. "Why don't you guys shut up already?!"

Mo Xi glanced at him. Against all odds, this kid was the one taking things seriously.

But the next thing he heard out of Yue Chenqing's mouth was: "If you keep running your mouths like this, when General Mo explodes and starts killing people, I'll be the first to flee!"

Mo Xi glowered wordlessly.

Everyone stared at each other in their addled, half-drunken states, wearing stupid grins.

In this torturous silence, Murong Lian looked sidelong out of his peach blossom eyes, his glance intoxicated yet icy-sharp. "Xihe-jun, even with all these peerless beauties before you, you want neither the women nor the men. Ah, I think—" He smiled maliciously. "The one you yearn for…is actually your enemy, isn't it?"

So saying, he shouted toward the doorway, "Come! Bring the traitor commander Gu Mang for our General Mo!"