Chapter 18: Sigil

OUTSIDE LUOMEI PAVILION, a low-ranked cultivator was sweeping the fallen leaves from the foxglove trees off the white jade limestone, broom rustling over the pavers.

Suddenly, a pair of black leather military boots entered his line of sight. The cultivator paused, then looked up with a smile to tactfully turn away the visitor. "Honored customer, it's not yet dark. Our pavilion opens at the hour of xu (7:00 to 9:00 p.m.). How about you return at a later—"

He was still speaking when he caught a clear glimpse of this customer's face. His eyes flew open, and he dropped the broom from pure terror.

"Xi…Xihe-jun?!" the cultivator stammered, stupefied.

Mo Xi's military uniform was neat and proper, his lapels smoothly layered, his collar meticulously arranged. He was the picture of an honorable gentleman. "I'm looking for someone," he said.

The low-ranked cultivator's jaw was about to drop to the floor.

This was Luomei Pavilion, and Xihe-jun was known for his abstinence. He was voluntarily coming to a brothel in search of someone? Was the sun about to rise from the west?!

Mo Xi's face was like frost, and his expression grew even more terrifying. "What are you looking at? Am I not allowed to enter?"

"N-n-no. Come, come in." Stammering, the cultivator hastily beckoned him inside. "Who is Xihe-jun looking for?"

Mo Xi paused, then looked away. "Gu Mang," he said expressionlessly.

"Oh! So you're looking for him…" The cultivator at once let out a sigh of relief.

Although the idea of Xihe-jun visiting brothels was completely absurd, the idea that he was looking for Gu Mang was reasonable. Given the depth of their mutual hatred, it would be perfectly normal for Xihe-jun to vent himself on Gu Mang if his mood was poor.

Mo Xi followed the cultivator into Luomei Pavilion without a hitch. As they walked, the cultivator told Mo Xi, "Xihe-jun, Gu Mang is in that filthy shack in the back courtyard. When you go in, you should be careful of your clothes—you mustn't get them dirty."

Mo Xi knit his brows. "Why would he be in there?"

"Eh, it's a long story. Wangshu-jun punished him a while ago, right? So we had Gu Mang do hard labor in the courtyard, chopping wood and stuff like that. But a few days ago, he must have been starving, because he snuck into the dining hall in the dead of night and stole some meat buns."

"What then?"

"No one would've noticed if he'd taken one or two, but he had to be a starved ghost about it and eat four whole baskets in one go. He was still chewing with a bun in hand when the cook went to check on things. Of course the cook was displeased, so he rushed over to make him pay. But then…"

Mo Xi glanced at the cultivator's fearful face. "Did the cook try to beat him and set off the sword array?"

"Ah! Right, Xihe-jun, you've seen that array before?"

Mo Xi didn't answer, a hazy shadow flitting through the depths of his gaze. His lashes fluttered, then lowered, hiding his eyes.

"That cook went overboard with all the punching and scolding, so Gu Mang reacted violently. And when the sword array was triggered, the cook didn't have time to dodge, so he ended up cut up and covered in blood." The little cultivator rubbed the goosebumps on the back of his hands. "Aiyo, he got a few hundred wounds—so terrifying."

Mo Xi was silent for a moment. "Is he okay?" he asked.

"Perfectly fine. That sword array isn't too serious. Even though it leaves you with a lot of cuts, the wounds are shallow." He took a breath. "To speak frankly, Xihe-jun doesn't need to worry. That cook is another bastard mongrel who was captured from the Liao Kingdom. If he fights with Gu Mang, well, that's just a dogfight well deserved."

Mo Xi said nothing.

"After that, the madam was furious and locked Gu Mang in the woodshed. We used to give him a cornmeal bun every day, but the madam said we needed to be harsher. Now he only gets one bowl of porridge to let him know the taste of suffering." The cultivator hesitated. "Xihe-jun, how about I get people to bind him before bringing him to you? That array is too dangerous. The cook is still bedridden, bandaged up like a zongzi rice dumpling. He probably won't be able to get out of bed for a few months."

"No need." Mo Xi's face was impassive. "I'll look in on him myself."

Because he wasn't receiving guests while being punished, Gu Mang was staying in the most shameful little shack in Luomei Pavilion.

It was said that "a lone wolf lives in danger." Gu Mang had been molded such that he had a great degree of similarity with wild wolves—he was afraid to be alone and often muttered to himself. This frightened the other residents of Luomei Pavilion, so they had decided to give him a black dog as a companion.

This black dog was now sitting in front of the doorway of the shack. As soon as it saw a stranger approach, it started barking like mad. Mo Xi's dagger-like gaze quelled it in an instant.

"Xihe-jun, that dog's afraid of you."

Naturally. He had killed so many people—how could a dog hope to face him? Stepping over the stone steps in his boot-clad feet, Mo Xi swept the heavy door-curtain aside in a single movement. His eyes skimmed the dark and narrow room.

Unlike the rest of the extravagantly decorated areas in the pavilion, this room was bare and spartan; it contained only a pile of firewood and a couple of broken pots.

In one dark corner, huddled like a wild beast, was Gu Mang. When he heard someone arrive, his ears twitched, and he lifted his head to look over wordlessly.

"Xihe-jun, be careful," the cultivator hurried to warn. "He's hostile with everyone right now, and he puts up a hell of a fight."

But Mo Xi didn't seem to care, nodding with pure indifference. "You may withdraw."

The cultivator hesitated. Even though Wangshu-jun said he wouldn't care if Gu Mang died, everyone knew he didn't mean it. If Gu Mang really did die, the consequences would be beyond what any of them could pay.

Given how deeply General Mo hated Gu Mang, it was possible that the general would wait until the dead of night to chop him into pieces…

"I want to be alone with him for a while," Mo Xi said.

The cultivator didn't dare say anything else before his dark expression and lowered his head. "Of course."

After the cultivator left, Mo Xi let go of the curtain. The thick and filthy cloth fell behind him, and the room was immediately cast into darkness; not a single candle was lit.

In that darkness, only Gu Mang's limpid eyes still shone.

Mo Xi frowned, suddenly noticing that something was off. What had happened to Gu Mang's eyes?

With a wave of Mo Xi's hand, a flame kindled in his palm. He held the fireball aloft and walked toward those two points of glimmering light.

Gu Mang had been locked up for five days. His mind was already somewhat unstable, to say nothing of how long it had been since he'd seen such blinding light. A low snarl rose from his throat, but when that failed to stop the interloper, he tried to flee like a wounded animal. But he was too weak; he only made it a few steps before he staggered and fell to the ground.

Mo Xi stood before Gu Mang as the firelight finally flooded over his pathetic form. Realizing that escape was hopeless, Gu Mang turned to glare at him.

Sure enough, something was wrong.

During their previous two meetings, between the hazy candlelight and his tumultuous emotions, Mo Xi hadn't actually had a good look at Gu Mang's face. Only now did he realize that Gu Mang's eyes were no longer the same as before.

The always-smiling black eyes he remembered were gone. In their place were a pair of blue irises, gleaming with motes of light in the darkness. They were indubitably the eyes of a white wolf.

Mo Xi was aware that the Liao Kingdom had carried out bestial fusion and tempering on Gu Mang. But when Mo Xi saw the lupine traits that had replaced what he once knew so well with his own eyes, his hands started to shake.

He grabbed Gu Mang's jaw and glared fiercely into those sea-blue eyes.

Who? Who was this?!

Responding to its conjurer's wrath, the flame in his other hand flared more and more violently. Its light burned nearly white, throwing Gu Mang's features into harsh relief while Mo Xi's eyes raked ruthlessly over his body.

Perhaps because this gaze was too searing, too painful, Gu Mang somehow managed to summon a burst of energy and threw off Mo Xi's hand. He staggered a few steps away.

"Stop right there!" Mo Xi snapped.

Mo Xi left the fireball to hover in midair as he clamped a hand around Gu Mang's wrist.

He had moved too aggressively. This time, Gu Mang was truly spooked, and beams of dazzling blue flashed in the dark. The array had been set off again, and dozens of intangible swords of light exploded from Gu Mang's body, each blade flipping around and rushing toward Mo Xi. Blood was about to come spurting forth.

Yet in that fleeting instant, something peculiar happened.

As soon as the sword glares touched Mo Xi, they transformed into glimmering feathers. Slowly, they drifted to the floor…

Gu Mang was immediately stupefied, but it seemed Mo Xi had already known the sword array would be useless against him. With a yank, he dragged the stunned man back toward him and caged him in his arms.

After another moment of astonishment, Gu Mang realized that he was again being restrained by someone's unyielding grip. He began to kick and struggle.

"Stay still!" Mo Xi snarled.

That voice from that close made Gu Mang jerk his head up, only to panic further. He obviously knew that the sword array was his last line of defense. For Gu Mang to lose it was like a lone wolf losing its only weapons, its teeth and claws; he was now at the mercy of others. He had not the slightest ability to resist this man, who was filled with suppressed fury.

"Don't…" Gu Mang finally spoke, shivering.

Chest heaving, Mo Xi looked down at the man in his arms and ground his teeth hatefully. "Don't what?"

"Don't…" Gu Mang had once lost the power of speech, and now that he was scared, he spoke slowly and shakily. "Kill me…" Bestial light flashed in those azure eyes. He pleaded so clumsily, so painstakingly. "I…" His lips parted. "I…want to live…"

Mo Xi's heart pounded. As he met those despairing eyes, the scar on his chest seemed to throb sharply.

I do want to live! What's wrong with wanting to live with a clear conscience?! Mo Xi, do you understand me? Huh?! I can't stand to live like this! I can't bear it! My dreams are filled with the faces of dead men! I can't keep going if I'm sober! Do you know what that pain feels like? The kind that makes you want to die night and day?! You have no idea!

Before Gu Mang fell from grace, he had once howled at Mo Xi, frantic and broken, his eyes furious as he smashed wine cups and sent blood streaming down his hands.

Mo Xi had understood his pain.

But what could he have done…? Back then, he could do nothing but let Gu Mang drunkenly cry and shout and roar. Nothing but keep him company, waiting for him to slowly recover, waiting for the scars to slowly heal.

After Gu Mang had sobered, he stopped shouting. Yet for some reason, Mo Xi always got the feeling that although Gu Mang was smiling, there was something else behind that smile—something he couldn't clearly see.

Later, the emperor sent Mo Xi away from the capital. Before he left, Gu Mang took him out drinking once more and grinned—that was when he'd said he was going to become a bad guy. At the time, Mo Xi hadn't believed it.

However, by the time he returned, Gu Mang had fallen into a stupor, intoxicated by the illusions offered by brothels until he was completely unrecognizable.

Soon after, he defected.

Gu Mang's wounds had never truly healed. In his heart, each cut lay over another, new wounds covering old scars. He wanted to live. But every day and every night, he also wanted to die. Day in and day out, damned to an eternity without reprieve.

Driven by bestial survival instinct, the blue-eyed Gu Mang whispered sadly, "I want to live…"

Mo Xi closed his eyes. "I won't do anything to you."

The person in his arms was trembling. He'd been badly starved, to the point that his cheeks were sunken and his hair hung limp. He stared at Mo Xi's face. Mo Xi let him stare for a long time, until Gu Mang's trembling came to a stop.

But as soon as Mo Xi moved his arms, Gu Mang's eyes widened once again, darting around with unease. It was like he desired to flee, but also knew that desire was hopeless.

Mo Xi said, "It's me."

Before, Mo Xi had been disappointed, hateful, conflicted, and distraught. But now that he saw Gu Mang frightened and helpless, the turmoil in his heart seemed to quieten, like a momentary pause in a torrential rainstorm. He neither grabbed and interrogated Gu Mang, nor tormented and humiliated him, as he'd imagined he would.

"Do you remember me?" Mo Xi continued after a second. Then, as if he wasn't sure why he persisted: "…It's fine if you don't remember me."

Gu Mang hadn't made a sound. Just as Mo Xi began to grow impatient, Gu Mang said, "I was your whore."

Dead silence.

"Listen up," Mo Xi said in a clipped tone, his temper flaring. "Don't say that word in front of me. I came to see you that day to discuss certain matters. Not…not to…" No matter what, whore was a word Mo Xi couldn't say out loud. Mo Xi looked furiously away and snapped, stiff, "Remember, it was to discuss certain matters."

"Discuss certain matters…" Gu Mang murmured, finally relaxing ever so slightly. Those eyes, however, remained glued to Mo Xi's face, intent on catching every hint of emotion. He slowly asked, "… But why?"

"What do you mean, why?"

"Why did my…" Gu Mang hadn't fully calmed down; he wasn't speaking as serenely and smoothly as he had the night they were reunited. The beatings and starvation had done their work. He could speak only haltingly, one word after another. "My swords…went away. I can't…hit you?"

Mo Xi didn't respond immediately, his expression growing darker and colder.

"Why?" asked Gu Mang again.

Why?

That day at Murong Lian's banquet, someone had lamented that despite the array's intricacies, there was no one left who understood its secrets. That man had been wrong.

On that day, at that banquet, someone in attendance had not only known all of the sword array's secrets, but also why it had been created in the first place: Mo Xi, who'd kept his silence.

Mo Xi stared at Gu Mang's face as he held him with one arm, not letting him move. But his other hand released Gu Mang's jaw and slowly slid down the side of his neck.

Rough fingers came to a stop over the lotus-shaped sigil.

As Mo Xi stared at Gu Mang in silence, caressing his neck, his eyes were very slightly red. As if in the next second, he would viciously bite down on that lotus sigil, tearing through skin and flesh and veins so that Gu Mang would die in his arms. As if that was what it would take to ensure this man never lied to him, betrayed him, or disappointed him again. Only then would he behave.

Perhaps because Mo Xi's expression was so fixed, his suppressed emotions so unhinged, Gu Mang grew alarmed. His eyes unfocused and his lips parted as though he were quietly murmuring something.

Mo Xi finally spoke, slow and deep. "You can stop chanting."

Gu Mang flinched.

"No matter what you try, nothing will happen."

Shocked, Gu Mang asked, "You…know?"

"I do." Mo Xi looked away from the lotus, gaze boring slowly and deeply into Gu Mang's clear blue eyes. "Outside of its trigger, if you really wanted it to appear, you could summon it if you only asked for it."

Gu Mang's face instantly paled further, his eyes widening.

Mo Xi's expression was indecipherable, as if a fathomless hatred had sunk into an equally deep fixation and trapped him there within. Gu Mang didn't know what he should do.

"But, if I don't allow it to answer, it won't." Mo Xi paused, the depths of his eyes darkening, his pale lips parting around his slow explanation. "Because it doesn't just obey you. It also obeys me—you are not its only master."

Gu Mang's face grew more and more pallid with every word Mo Xi said, until it resembled a sheet of flimsy paper. He stared blankly at Mo Xi's face from mere inches away. "Wh-why…"

Mo Xi looked down at him, breath ragged. Despite all his efforts to conceal his emotions, the pain in his eyes could no longer be disguised. His lashes quivered as he swallowed. "Gu Mang." He closed his eyes. "Have you really forgotten everything?"

Gu Mang's eyes widened, those irises clear and blue as seawater reflecting Mo Xi's handsome face. "You… It can't defend me against… you," he muttered, bestial wariness on his face. "Why…does it obey you?"

It was unclear whether Mo Xi's expression was icy or agonized. "Of course it obeys me," he said, each word like frost.

In the stillness that followed, Mo Xi closed his eyes. When they snapped open, it was like lava finally breaking through earth, his pupils a flaming scarlet.

"Of course it obeys me," he said with barely contained fury. "Because your sigil used my blood, and your sigil was drawn by my hand, because…the one who created this array was never you—it was me!"

Gu Mang clearly didn't understand what Mo Xi was saying, but he could understand the anger and heartbreak on the face before him. He stared at this stranger with wide eyes.

This man's expression was unbearably complicated, as if it had accumulated more than a decade of love and hatred, suppressed more than a decade of suffering, and finally exploded with more than a decade of despair.

Mo Xi suddenly raised a hand and tore cruelly at the neat, proper layers of his own collar to expose the side of his bare and slender neck. Mo Xi's gaze was tempered with cold light and coated in icy fire. Every word came from between gritted teeth.

"Do you see it?" The light in his eyes was sharp, but it was also tearful. "This sigil, identical to yours… In your blood! By your hand! It was done for you…"

As Mo Xi spoke, he abruptly pushed Gu Mang away, as if he no longer wanted to touch or to look at him.

Mo Xi brought a hand to his brow, the end of his sentence caught within his throat.