Chapter 19: Wait for You

GU MANG STARED at the person pacing in front of him, hesitant and wary, lost and confused. At length, he stepped forward and cautiously touched the side of Mo Xi's neck.

Mo Xi jerked his head up, glaring at him through slightly reddened eyes. His breathing was roughened by intense emotion, his lapels gaping slightly. The lotus sigil on his neck rose and fell, throbbing vividly at the artery. While he obviously hadn't undergone demonic tempering, in his current state, he was no different from a beast.

"What are you doing?"

"I…" Gu Mang said in confusion. "But I…don't know you… Why would you have one too…?"

To Mo Xi, this question was a violent stab; his hatred and pride made him cruel. He slapped Gu Mang's hand away, snapping, "I never needed something like this. You're the one who forced me."

Gu Mang looked up at this man, who was on the verge of a breakdown. In that dim woodshed where no one else could see him, in front of Gu Mang, the grown Xihe-jun was as volatile as the youth he had once been.

"Hasn't it always been you?" Mo Xi's chest throbbed, and even the tails of his eyes were red. "It was you who provoked me, you who came to find me…"

For better. For worse.

For richer or poorer, no matter what the future held.

It was you who came to my side with a smile.

"It was you who made me believe…" That there could be friendship unconcerned with any other pressures, that someone could be good to another person regardless of whether that good would be reciprocated.

That kindness, sincerity, and fiercely unconditional loyalty truly existed.

"It was you who pulled me back from the edge."

Mo Xi really had lost his mind. He had held back and waited for so long, waiting for this day, all to ask Gu Mang for the truth. He'd wanted nothing more than to see what, exactly, was in Gu Mang's heart…

So why had he been denied even the slightest deliverance?

He had been deceived, abandoned, and betrayed.

I like you—a lie; I'm willing—a lie; I won't leave you—a lie.

Nothing remained but these lotus tattoos on their necks, proof of the things they had shared in their past, proof of how foolish, unreserved, fearless, and unhesitating Mo Xi's sincerity had once been.

Proof that there had once been a youth who hadn't known the trap that was love.

So stupid that he wanted to dig out and offer up his own heart. So stupid that he believed all those promises could come true. So stupid… So stupid that it still hurt, even now.

These overwhelming, intense emotions rang in Mo Xi's ears, and the world swam before his eyes.

As Mo Xi looked at the Gu Mang in front of him, dizzy, his vision steadily darkened at the edges and grew blurry.

He seemed to see the youth who had once stood on the deck of a ship. So close, yet so far; so familiar, yet so unknown. Standing with his back to the sea wind, black robes draped over his shoulders, bandages wrapped around his waist, and a crooked ribbon tied over his brow. He sneered, I really will kill you.

Mo Xi grabbed Gu Mang and pressed him against the wall, lost between past and present. "Yes…I knew you would kill me. Haven't you already stabbed me once?" He inhaled. "Why didn't you stab me a second time at Wangshu Manor?!"

He knew he was going mad; he knew he was being absurd. But how could someone who had always rigidly controlled themselves hold back once they exploded?

All Mo Xi had wanted was a single backward glance. An answer, nothing more.

"It was you who gave me faith…and in the end, you were the reason I lost that faith… You said I didn't care about anything, that I had nothing to lose, so it didn't matter…" Mo Xi's voice softened as he choked up. "But when you stepped onto that path, do you know what I lost?!"

Do you know what I lost…? Mo Xi quickly turned aside, lowering his head. Only after recovering for several seconds did he speak again, his words clipped with hatred. "I was never the person who didn't care. It was you. I wish I could—"

He stopped.

Gu Mang had reached out, carefully and hesitantly cupping Mo Xi's face. "Don't… Don't be so sad," he said.

Mo Xi whipped around, meeting those limpid blue eyes that looked like they had been washed with seawater. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"But can you…not be so sad?" Gu Mang said slowly and with difficulty, pausing clumsily on each word. "Don't be sad."

It was as if a molten sword had been plunged into water. Steam hissed as the water boiled, but that crazed heat was instantly quenched. Mo Xi's blood gradually cooled, and reason seeped back in.

Gu Mang gazed at him. "You're not a bad person…" he said slowly, cautiously, lashes trembling. "I don't know you, but you're…not bad… So…don't be sad…"

Mo Xi felt profoundly unwell. Hatred, frustration, ire, and something else he couldn't place—all of it coursed through his heart. He looked at Gu Mang's familiar features, and at those unfamiliar blue eyes.

This same man had once gazed at him with deep black eyes, smiling, and called to him.

Mo Xi. It's fine, don't be sad.

No matter what, we'll always be together. No matter how hard things get, I'll pull through.

Come on, let's go home.

Mo Xi was suddenly overcome with exhaustion. He closed his eyes, near drained, like a dying eagle using the last of its energy to feign strength. "I'm not sad."

It was obvious that Mo Xi hated Gu Mang deeply, hated that he couldn't choke him to death with his own hands—see if he could keep escaping, keep lying, keep leaving him then. Hated that he couldn't watch with his own eyes as Gu Mang's skull shattered and his blood sprayed out, at last bringing an end to all this hope and despair.

Instead, as Gu Mang carefully tried to console him, as Gu Mang asked him not to be sad, Mo Xi found himself thinking of a scene from many, many years ago, when Gu Mang had sat by a blood-splattered trench and summoned his ridiculous little holy weapon—the suona that, after defecting, he had never used again—and played a truly maddening tune.

It had been such a crappy song. Everyone who heard it had covered their ears and cursed, demanding to know what the hell he was playing— was he a wailer at a funeral? Gu Mang had merely flung his head back and laughed, then continued to puff out his cheeks and play "Phoenix Homage." He had played so soulfully, so seriously.

But when Mo Xi had glanced at Gu Mang out of the corner of his eye, he'd seen that his eyes were wet.

Gu Mang cared. He had lied and dissembled for so many years, but Mo Xi knew he cared. So Mo Xi wanted to believe him—to believe that those things in their past weren't all lies.

For this possibility, he was willing to wait.

"Never mind," Mo Xi said after a time. "If you can't remember, then never mind." And finally, in a choked tone, "I misspoke."

After another interval, Mo Xi stood up and carefully fixed his collar, smoothing every last wrinkle to hide that lotus tattoo on his neck. "No matter if you've really forgotten or if you're pretending, I'll wait. I'll wait for a conclusion. I'll wait for you to tell me the truth."

The rims of his eyes and the tip of his nose were yet red.

"You'll…wait for me…?" Gu Mang asked blankly.

"Yes, I'll wait for you. No matter what, I'll wait for you. I'll keep waiting, no matter how long it takes. But remember this: If you lie to me again—if I find out you're still lying to me—I won't be stabbed in the same place twice. I will make you live a life worse than death."

It was very quiet in the shed.

Gu Mang lowered his head to think for a while before he spoke again, confused. "What's…a life worse than death?"

That bewildered and innocent tone drew Mo Xi's wintry stare, but with the red wetness lingering at the corners of his eyes, his glare seemed less sharp than usual.

Gu Mang felt that gaze and looked up at him. He knew this man had broken his sword array and stripped him of his sharp claws; yet unlike all the others, he hadn't bitten through Gu Mang's neck or degraded him. So he asked, cautiously, "Does a life worse than death…mean…you'll spare me?"

Silence. "No."

"But you didn't kill or beat me."

"I don't beat imbeciles."

Gu Mang didn't say anything, but continued to look at him. Then he moved closer, sniffing.

Mo Xi held a palm up to the tip of Gu Mang's nose to stop him. "What are you doing?"

Gu Mang licked his dry lips. "Remembering you," he said softly.

Remembering him? Remembering what? His face? His scent? Or that he was someone who didn't beat imbeciles?

But Gu Mang didn't explain. He'd more or less lowered his guard— or perhaps it was less that he wanted to lower it and more that his long starvation had stripped him of his strength. He no longer cared about Mo Xi. In any case, the sharp fangs that were his last remaining defenses were useless against this opponent.

Gu Mang slowly ducked his head and curled up in his corner. Those lupine eyes glimmered in the darkness and blinked tiredly. "Thank you," he said. "You're the only one willing to give me a life worse than death."

These words fell to the bottom of Mo Xi's heart; caught off guard, his chest ached. He stood there for a while, looking around the dilapidated little shack, looking at the little mattress with its exposed cotton stuffing and the silhouette curled up in the corner.

Mo Xi closed his eyes tightly, long lashes fluttering.

In the end, he left and got some flatbread and hot soup. He held them out to this man who was on the verge of starvation. "Eat."

Gu Mang quickly came over to sniff the food. He swallowed thickly at the scent before hesitating. "But you didn't bed—"

The moment he said the word bed, Mo Xi's expression turned furious, and he wordlessly smacked a flatbread right onto Gu Mang's face.

When Mo Xi returned to his manor, it was already the dead of night.

"My lord, you're back—ah! What happened to you?"

"I'm fine."

"But why are your eyes…" Red?

"Flying sand." Mo Xi turned his back on Li Wei and walked to his bedroom without looking back.

He'd spent hours at Luomei Pavilion, but he wasn't remotely sleepy. After tossing and turning in bed to no avail, he draped a black fur coat over his shoulders and stood in the courtyard cloister, looking at the moonlight from the hall. Gu Mang's sickly face was still flashing before his eyes, impossible to escape.

Was his mind actually broken…? When the Liao Kingdom sent him back, had it really been for peace talks, or did they have some other motive?

Mo Xi racked his brain, trying to piece everything together, but no matter how he tried, his train of thought still stopped on those lupine blue eyes.

Thank you. You're the only one willing to give me a life worse than death.

Mo Xi closed his eyes.

It was a long time before he went to Luomei Pavilion to see Gu Mang again.

Firstly, his work started to pile up, and secondly, Luomei Pavilion remained Murong Lian's territory. It would be unwise to go there often.

Only once, when Mo Xi was leading imperial guards on patrol within the city, did he glance at Luomei Pavilion's courtyard. Gu Mang was once again squatting there, looking at the fish, that dirty black dog at his side. Everything was as it had been.

In the blink of an eye, the end of the month arrived. Outside the Bureau of Military Affairs, the first heavy snow of the year fell.

It was an unnaturally cold evening, and most of the members of the bureau had left early to enjoy their time at home. Some young cultivators had taken the opportunity to go back to the city to drink and feast before nightfall.

Mo Xi was preparing to return to his own manor when he heard a timid voice speak in front of his desk. "Xihe-jun, may I… May I ask a favor?"