Chapter 114: Shizun, Say You Will

Thump, thump, thump. A slow, steady heartbeat.

Chu Wanning blinked. Surprise, joy, awkwardness, and embarrassment

all flitted through his eyes in the space of an instant. But this was the Yuheng

Elder after all: calm and cool as ever, singularly adept at schooling his

features into unruffled composure, sweeping those extraneous emotions under

the rug in a trice as if the one who'd admonished Mo Ran in despair just now

had been someone else entirely.

"What're you doing down here if you're not dead?" Chu Wanning

regretted the words as soon as they'd left his mouth. It was obvious that Mo

Ran had come to save him. But Chu Wanning was afraid that, if Mo Ran

really were to say that, his heart might beat right out of his chest. He was so

nervous he completely forgot he was already dead and had no heart to speak

of.

But Mo Ran gazed at him without saying any such thing. He likely

knew Chu Wanning would be embarrassed if he were to say, I came here for

you. Mo Ran thought a bit, then pressed his lips together and lowered his

lashes. "Shizun," he asked gently, "can you guess why I'm here?"

A long pause. "You came looking for trouble."

"Since when did Shizun change his name to 'Trouble'?" Mo Ran

grinned. "Should've told me."

Chu Wanning jerked his hand back, as if stung by this new gentleness.

He snapped in flustered anger, "What nonsense! How impudent."

Mo Ran had learned a secret: Chu Wanning's anger was a mask. This

man was so awkward he donned that menacing, garish mask and hid all his

gentleness, happiness, joy, embarrassment, and sadness underneath. What a

dummy.

Chu Wanning was a dummy. To wear such a mask his entire life—

wasn't it exhausting? Mo Ran was a dummy too. It had taken him two whole

lifetimes to figure it out.

After that, the mood was a bit lighter. And now that Mo Ran had

located all four of Chu Wanning's souls, rebirth was finally within reach. Mo

Ran was in high spirits. He grabbed Chu Wanning's hand again, clutching it

as he rambled on and on. Mo Ran told him why he'd come down to the

underworld, and about Master Huaizui. When he reached certain parts, he

had to stop and wait for the tightness in his throat to subside before forging

ahead with red-rimmed eyes. And in all his explanations, the words that

appeared most were "I'm sorry."

Chu Wanning didn't know what to say.

He showed kindness to others, but he didn't do it to reap any benefit. If

anything, he was afraid they'd feel troubled to receive his goodwill, or

indebted to him. The honest truth was that he feared he'd offer up his warm,

beating heart to someone, only for them to casually set it aside to cool. Thus,

despite being open and straightforward in all other respects, he would

always hide his kind deeds.

He had worn a mask his whole life. But one day, the person he liked

suddenly reached out and plucked that vividly painted anger right off his

face, leaving him like a crab without its shell. He stood dazed, at a complete

loss for what to do.

As Chu Wanning stared vacantly, Mo Ran knelt before him, one hand

still grasping Chu Wanning's, as if afraid he might disappear. For a split

second, ridiculous, shameful thoughts raced through Chu Wanning's mind.

This disciple of his had always been brazen and audacious, with no regard

for common sense. For Mo Ran to suddenly take his hand and treat him

thusly, he couldn't help thinking the other was up to something. Chu Wanning

was startled by his own thoughts, and his face became gloomier still. Unsure

what kind of expression he ought to wear, he could do nothing but fall back

on the cool detachment that was his habit. But Mo Ran wasn't up to anything

at all. He continued to hold his hand, like he was holding a treasure once

lost, now regained. This person whom he had tossed aside like worthless

junk in his past life.

"Shizun." Having set down that great burden of hatred, Mo Ran knelt

before him now—earnest, respectful, full of warmth. "Before, I was in the

wrong. From now on, I'll go left if you say left, right if you say right; all I

want is for you to be happy." Perhaps he was feeling too many emotions at

once; his eyes sparkled with tears as he smiled up at him. "So come back

with me, okay?"

Chu Wanning said nothing; his face was calm as still water, but his

heart blazed like a beacon of fire.

"Shizun." Mo Ran's voice was gentle and soft, with a touch of

lingering youthfulness. When Mo Ran hated someone, it was with

unadulterated vehemence. But if he cherished someone, it was with his whole

heart. He had always been this way, doing nothing by halves.

"Come back with me. Say you will, okay?"

Chu Wanning remained unresponsive. He stared absently at Mo Ran as

if lost in thought.

Mo Ran was worried Chu Wanning might still be cross, so he forced

himself to smile through the dejection that settled over him, tried his best to

keep it together lest he make his shizun uncomfortable. He swung their joined

hands a little and wheedled, "Shizun can just nod."

No response.

Then, afraid he might not nod either, Mo Ran considered for a moment

and added, "I'll count to three, okay?"

Still nothing.

"If Shizun doesn't say anything, I'll take it as a yes, 'kay?" Mo Ran

said, nervous but still gentle. He paused, then slowly counted off: "One, two,

three."

But Chu Wanning was like a person exposed to the freezing cold for

too long. Suddenly plunged into warm water, he felt not warmth, but pain. He

had never been wanted before, so he hadn't even known that to be frozen was

an agony. But now that there was someone who treasured him, who

surrounded him with warmth, it was as though he finally had a right to feel

pain. Every inch of his body was on fire, every inch of his skin cracked. Only

now did he feel the hurt.

The tips of his fingers quivered minutely in Mo Ran's palms, which

were now clammy with sweat.

The longer Chu Wanning stood silent, the more anxious Mo Ran grew.

He was afraid Chu Wanning had lost heart and didn't want to return to the

living world. But neither did he dare move, afraid that Chu Wanning would

vanish and leave him behind if he so much as twitched. Mo Ran smiled

warmly and tried again. "I counted too fast; you probably weren't ready yet.

I'll count again: one, two, three."

No response.

Mo Ran's throat worked. He was trembling now, but he forced himself

to smile and smile, saying—practically begging—"Shizun, did you hear me?"

Some focus finally seemed to come into Chu Wanning's phoenix eyes,

but they were still distant, fixed on Mo Ran's face with an unreadable

expression.

"I'll count again—I'll go slower this time, in case it's hard to hear,"

Mo Ran said. "One, two, three."

Nothing.

"I'm going to count one last time… One, two, three."

"This time's really the last. One, two, three…"

Chu Wanning stared, blank-faced, at that young man kneeling at his feet

counting one-two-three, one-two-three, again and again like a dummy, as if

repeating it could reverse time's flow, could coax a withered tree to bloom,

could bring back the dead. The disciple before him counted with all he had,

clumsy, stubborn, like he was counting his own sins, counting all the ways his

shizun had been good to him. He counted until his voice shook and his smile

was one of panic.

"Shizun." Mo Ran looked up. The rims of his eyes were red. But he

had already wronged Chu Wanning so greatly, all the way to this point. Mo

Ran didn't want to cry where he could see and hear. He didn't want to cause

his shizun any more grief. So he swallowed his tears and smiled, keeping his

tone light and easy, as if bargaining. "I'll count again. Pay attention to me,

won't you?"

Chu Wanning felt like his heart was being stabbed by this pleading. He

tried to pull his hand from Mo Ran's grip, as if it frightened him. But this

time, Mo Ran held on tight and refused to let go. With a dog-like persistence,

the young man gazed up at him steadily, unblinkingly. He said, "One, two…"

Just then, the sound of rapid footsteps echoed from the outside,

accompanied by yelling and cursing. Chu Wanning's head snapped up. He

saw a sea of lights swarming in the distance as a vast army of ghost soldiers

closed in, headed straight for their location.

Rong Jiu had found a chance to snitch on them, after all.

"There! Upstairs! Upstairs!"

"Seize the thief!"

"Who does he think he is?"

Everywhere he looked was tumultuous, frenzied chaos, the flickering

shadows of ghosts and torches rolling in like a tide to devour them, obliterate

them, plunge them into the Infinite Hells for the rest of eternity.

But Mo Ran didn't even turn around. In that moment, holding Chu

Wanning's hand, he felt at peace. Chu Wanning was not his lover, but he was

his beloved person, someone he respected above all others, someone who

loved him and treated him well. Gazing at him, Mo Ran felt a calmness settle

over his heart.

"Have you lost your mind?!" Chu Wanning hissed. "What're you doing

still on the floor!" He turned his hand to grip Mo Ran's and pulled him up as

he spoke. His eyes were bright in the light of those innumerable torches,

looking just as they had in life. Chu Wanning scowled and snapped, "Let's go

already!"

Mo Ran seemed surprised. "You're coming?"

Now Chu Wanning was getting really mad. "Who else?!"

Trembling, Mo Ran closed his eyes. Then he opened them again and

smiled. It was a brilliant smile, tears pooling in his eyes like lovely, dewladen blossoms. He finally, finally let out the breath he'd been holding and

clasped their hands tightly together. Fingers interlocked. He pressed his

forehead to Chu Wanning's and whispered quietly, earnestly, "Three."

"What do you mean three?! Hurry up!"

The sea of ghosts outside was drawing closer. Mo Ran at last turned to

look and let out a somewhat panicked sound when he saw the horde closing

in. "Shizun, put up a barrier to hold them off for a minute while I get you into

the soul-calling lantern!"

"I can't."

"Wha?!" Mo Ran was dumbfounded.

Chu Wanning's customary cool and collected expression was a little

flustered. He quickly covered his embarrassment with irritation: "Do you

really think I'd be trapped in this stupid little cage if I still had my powers?!"

Mo Ran had no words. All righty then—so the thing missing from this

soul was cultivation.

He had to recite the spell without interruption in order to draw a soul

into the lantern. It wouldn't take long, but it would definitely take longer than

they had. Mo Ran could only grab Chu Wanning and make a run for it.

Chu Wanning might have lost his cultivation, but he still had his martial

skills. He easily kept pace with Mo Ran. The two beat a hasty retreat,

pursued by a torrential stream of ghost soldiers. When they'd made it as far

as the door of the main hall, Chu Wanning asked, "Where are we going?"

"Dunno."

Chu Wanning was speechless.

But Mo Ran pointed up at the towering palace walls, undiscouraged.

"Let's go up there and scope it out."

Fortunately, Chu Wanning had a solid foundation in qinggong and had

no problem vaulting up walls even without the aid of his cultivation. He

alighted gracefully on the eaves, then looked down to see the swarm of angry

ghosts roaring closer. "Summon Jiangui!"

Mo Ran did as he was told. A strand of radiant scarlet appeared with

a swipe of his palms and sprang forth like a hissing snake, its willow leaves

vibrant and rustling as the holy weapon settled into a coil by his feet.

"Channel your spiritual energy past Wuli, through Quchi, and converge

on Shangyang,

22

 then whip downward."

Mo Ran raised his arm to strike.

Chu Wanning suddenly remembered something and added, "Not too

much spiritual energy."

Mo Ran faltered, but it was too late to pull back. The instant he flung

the whip out, explosive fire shot from the hissing snake with a boom, like a

fire-spitting dragon roaring its fury as it cut through the torrential dead. The

raging inferno blazed through the entire corridor, the flames moving the stars

themselves, smoke rising beyond the clouds. The scores of soldiers at the

vanguard were scorched to ash in a heartbeat. Not even the walls and trees

were spared.

Chu Wanning and Mo Ran gazed at the wreckage in silence for a long

moment.

"Didn't I say not to use too much spiritual energy?!" Chu Wanning

scolded with a frown.

"By the time you said it I was already…" He suddenly remembered

he'd resolved to be respectful and not talk back to his shizun. Mo Ran shut

his mouth on his protests and said instead, a bit disgruntled, "Shizun is right

to scold me."

"Forget it." Chu Wanning flicked his sleeve. "I did say it a little late."

Mo Ran was taken aback—so all it took for his shizun to cave was for

Mo Ran to take the blame himself? He blinked and couldn't help but burst

into laughter.

Chu Wanning glared at him. "What's so funny? Get a move on."