HOW COULD CHU WANNING tolerate such an unspeakably mortifying question? The moment they left Melodic Springs, he stalked off without a backward glance at Mo Ran.
A man needed face like a tree needed bark. How did Mo Ran have the nerve to ask him such an appalling question… Did Mo Ran imagine he would nod in agreement? What was the point of asking him something like that? It would be far better to just go ahead and do it!
The next day, the elder in charge of teaching classics fell ill, and Xue Zhengyong asked Chu Wanning to supervise the students as they memorized their texts. Classics was one of the largest courses; Chu Wanning couldn't possibly keep an eye on all the disciples by himself. Thus, he brought Mo Ran, Xue Meng, and Shi Mei to assist.
Shi Mei and Mo Ran soon became the busiest among the four. The reason was simple: Shi Mei was gentle and beautiful, and Mo Ran was gallant and kind. The younger disciples took a natural shine to them. Shi Mei, with his long legs, narrow waist, and face out of a painting, was especially popular. The softness of youth had long gone, and he had grown into a stunningly attractive man, with a mild temper and a voice that was music to the ears. He left a favorable impression on just about everyone, men and women alike.
As for Mo Ran, he had been entrapped in a crowd of female disciples.
"Mo-shixiong, Mo-shixiong, I don't understand this sentence. Can you take a look at it for me?"
"Mo-shixiong, what's the difference between these two spells—I don't get it. Shixiong, could you explain it to me?"
"Mo-shixiong—"
By the time Mo Ran explained to the ninth smiling little shimei why the Sigil of the Returning Billows must be drawn exactly as its inventor specified, Chu Wanning's patience was spent. Frowning, he shot Mo Ran a cool glance over the rows of disciples dividing them.
Mo Ran had endured the cold shoulder from Chu Wanning since the evening before and was feeling rather low. He'd been accustomed to taking by force in the past life; this time around, he moved with painstaking care. Every time they tried something new, he checked to see if Chu Wanning was enjoying himself. He didn't know where he'd gone wrong—should he not have asked? Maybe he had called him the wrong thing. Instead of "My dear shizun, next time, could I make you come on my cock?" should he have said "Babygirl, next time, could I make you come on my cock?"
Thus, after being ignored for an entire day, he was quick to notice Chu Wanning's eyes on him. Though Chu Wanning was pinning him with a ferocious glare, Mo Ran reacted like a wilting cabbage that had been watered; his eyes lit up, and he flashed Chu Wanning a brilliant smile.
Chu Wanning was speechless. Clearly this idiot had no clue why this gaggle of girls had so many questions. Were they genuinely confused? In that case, the inventor of the Sigil of the Returning Billows was standing right here. Why didn't they come over to ask Chu Wanning? Why would they take the circuitous route of asking Mo-shixiong instead?
Chu Wanning was immensely displeased. But he said nothing, merely staring flintily at Mo Ran.
After feeling Chu Wanning's gaze on him for some seconds, Mo Ran eventually realized something was amiss. At that moment, the tenth little shimei eagerly tried to flag him down. "Mo-shigeee!"
"Sorry, gotta go." Mo Ran grinned and pointed at Xue Meng. "Why don't you ask Xue-shixiong?"
The little shimei, her hair in a neat bun, looked on crestfallen as Mo Ran walked toward Chu Wanning. Chewing on the end of her brush, she heaved a gusty sigh.
"Shizun, what's wrong? You don't look happy."
Chu Wanning pressed his lips into a tight line. It wouldn't do to speak his mind now. "I'm a little tired. Let Xue Meng take care of those students and help me keep an eye on things over here."
Mo Ran didn't suspect a thing. Nodding, he diligently fell into step behind Chu Wanning as he made his rounds. Walking with his shizun, Mo Ran noticed something—far fewer people were asking questions on this side. How odd, he thought. Were these disciples smarter than the others?
Having escaped those vexing cries of Mo-shixiong and the doubly infuriating Mo-shige, Chu Wanning's mood lightened considerably, though his face betrayed none of it. Just as before, he walked impassively among the junior disciples as they studied their texts. It was in this way that he overheard a particular conversation between two students.
"Shixiong, shixiong, I'm telling you, there's a fox spirit in Melodic Springs."
"Huh? What do you mean?"
"Last night, I was taking a bath in Plum Pool. I was about to leave when I heard…uh…you know…some noises…"
The shixiong's mouth fell open in astonishment. "Maybe it was a couple of reckless disciples?"
"Who would be that reckless? No way. Disciples would sneak around in private and call it a day. If the Yuheng Elder or Tanlang Elder caught anyone messing around in public in Melodic Springs, they'd break their legs! It couldn't be any of the disciples."
"Fair enough."
"I'm telling you, it must have been a fox spirit absorbing yang essence to replenish her yin! A bunch of us are going back tonight to see if we can catch the little vixen. We'd be doing everyone a favor if we succeed, right? We can't just let her go around seducing our sectmates!"
"Sure, sure. Did you see who she was fooling around with yesterday though?"
"It's so hazy in Melodic Springs; I would've had to walk right up to them. You won't see me going over there—I'm just a kid. What if that fox spirit took a liking to me and made me dual cultivate with her?"
As the little disciple rambled on, a strange look came over his shixiong's face. He reached out and waved a hand. "What's wrong? What's with you?" His shixiong said nothing, but the little disciple felt a prickle on the back of his neck. He slowly turned to find the Yuheng Elder standing right behind him with an inscrutable expression on his face, emanating an arctic chill.
"Aiya!" the disciple yelped. "Elder, begging your pardon!" "Class is for memorizing texts, not discussing evil spirits or essences, or even dual cultivation." Chu Wanning glowered. "Quite the
imagination you've got. Now get back to studying. If I hear another peep of such nonsense, there'll be consequences." With a flick of his sleeves, he strode away.
Mo Ran, too, happened to overhear this conversation. As much as he wanted to, he didn't dare laugh. His gaze lingered on Chu Wanning's retreating figure. How had such a proper person ever fallen in love with him? Why would he want to be with someone like Mo Ran…
He felt a warm ache in his chest, his mood bittersweet.
After class ended, he couldn't resist clinging to Chu Wanning as he tidied the texts in the reading room. He wrapped his arms around him, kissing him tenderly.
Furious, Chu Wanning rapped Mo Ran on the head with a scroll. "Brilliant idea, Melodic Springs… What have I become now?"
Mo Ran held back a laugh. Rubbing his nose against Chu Wanning's ear, he crooned as though he didn't already know the answer, "What has Shizun become now?"
How could this man be so shameless? Chu Wanning's eyes flew wide in rage. "You—!"
Mo Ran grinned, dimples deep and sweet, overflowing with honey. He kissed Chu Wanning again. "Those shidi were really full of it—a fox spirit? Absorbing… What was it… Ha ha, absorbing yang essence to replenish yin?"
"One more word and I'll kill you." Chu Wanning brandished the scroll as if to stuff it down Mo Ran's throat.
"Oof…" Mo Ran chuckled. "Then, can I at least choose how I'll die? I want the fox spirit in Melodic Springs to suck all the yang essence out of me, what a way to go…"
"Mo Weiyu!"
From that day forward, no amount of persuasion could convince Chu Wanning to visit Melodic Springs with Mo Ran ever again.
One morning a few days later, Madam Wang requested Mo Ran come and see her. Taking his hand, she asked, "Ran-er, during your travels, did you ever come across a strange girl in Snow Valley?"
"What kind of girl? Strange in what way?"
"Very pale, with a bloodless complexion. She favors red robes, and always carries a basket in her arms as she chats with travelers passing through Snow Valley…"
Mo Ran smiled. "Oh—Auntie, do you mean the Maiden of the Snow?"
Madam Wang blinked in astonishment. "You know of the Maiden of the Snow?" she exclaimed in delight. "I didn't think you'd have heard of such a rare spirit, so I thought I'd describe her… Who would've thought…"
"Shizun mentioned her in his journals, so I happened to read about her," said Mo Ran. "Auntie, why do you ask?"
"Nangong-gongzi came to see me a few days ago. After examining his pulse, I do think his turbulent yang spiritual flow could be brought under control, but the ingredients for the treatment are hard to come by.
The rarest is the icicle fish the Maiden of the Snow carries in her basket." Madam Wang sighed. "Young Nangong-gongzi and Meng-er are about the same age. It's terrible what he's been through; I want to help however I can. But the Maiden of the Snow is famously elusive. Twenty years back, she was spotted in Snow Valley. Before that, the last recorded sighting was in Kunlun Taxue Palace's records a century ago. I thought I'd try my luck if you'd seen her."
Mo Ran was torn between elation and sorrow. If Nangong Si's ailment could be cured, he could lead an ordinary life. Perhaps he and Ye Wangxi could be together at last, given their feelings for one another. But despite spending a year in Snow Valley, he'd never come across the legendary Maiden of the Snow; he couldn't help Madam Wang. "After we settle Xu Shuanglin's case, I'll make a trip to Snow Valley and scour it for any trace of her. Who knows, I might find some leads."
Cheered by the prospect, Mo Ran took his leave to share the news with Nangong Si. Madam Wang called after him: "Ran-er, don't walk so fast—I've already told Nangong-gongzi, you don't need to…"
But Mo Ran was already too far away to hear.
After searching everywhere, he finally caught sight of Nangong Si standing at one end of Naihe Bridge. He was striding forward when he noticed someone had appeared on the other end. Peering over, Mo Ran saw that the newcomer was none other than Ye Wangxi. Mo Ran's pulse quickened. He stilled, hanging back in the bamboo grove to watch instead of calling out to Nangong Si.
Ye Wangxi was as gallant as ever, her features betraying not a hint of feminine softness. Her cultivation and training had shaped her into a form nearly indistinguishable from a man. If not for her feelings for Nangong Si that she hid within her heart, she might have long forgotten she was actually a woman.
Upon seeing her, Nangong Si cleared his throat, looking down at the distant river.
"Gongzi summoned me?"
"Ah…" Nangong Si looked rather embarrassed. He folded his hands over one of the bridge's stone lions, then hummed in assent.
"Is something the matter?"
"Not—not really," said Nangong Si. He didn't so much as glance at Ye Wangxi as he traced the curls of the lion's mane. "I just… I just wanted to give you something."
"What?" Ye Wangxi asked, bewildered.
Head bowed, Nangong Si turned away from Ye Wangxi and untied a pendant from around his waist, fumbling with the knot for several seconds before he finally managed to loosen it. He coughed softly and handed the pendant to Ye Wangxi. "Thank you for always… Never mind, I don't know how to say it. These days I have nothing worth much, so I can only give you this. I've had it for a long time; it's not the most valuable jade, but…"
He didn't continue; his cheeks had turned pink. Throughout all this, he had kept his eyes downcast, too nervous to look at Ye Wangxi.
Realizing Ye Wangxi still hadn't said anything, he was overcome by dejection and embarrassment at his impulsivity. He reached out tentatively, as though to take back the phoenix-shaped ornament. "I-I know it isn't pretty," he muttered. "If you don't like it, just…just give it back, it's fine, I don't mind… After we rebuild Rufeng Sect, I'll get you the most beautiful pendant, I—"
Ye Wangxi, who had been staring at him in silence all this while, suddenly broke into a smile. Girlish sweetness bloomed upon her handsome features, a newfound blush coloring the edges of her eyes. Her fingers—her calloused, scarred, unladylike fingers—closed around the jade pendant. As the wind picked up, rustling through the bamboo, she said, "This is enough. Thank you, Gongzi."
Nangong Si's face was beet red. "A-as long as you like it…" he said stiffly. "I just…uh…I don't know what to say."
From the depths of the grove, Mo Ran stared at him, incredulous. He had an almighty urge to bash Nangong Si's head into the stone lion. Was this guy good for anything besides raising wolf pups? After all that hemming and hawing, I don't know what to say was seriously the best he could do?
"Madam Wang said my unmanageable spiritual core can be suppressed," Nangong Si blurted. "I might not have to dual-cultivate to treat it."
Ye Wangxi froze for a moment, then murmured a quiet "Mn." She lowered her lashes and didn't say more.
It seemed she had misunderstood. If Nangong Si's condition could be treated without dual cultivation, then he could be with anyone he wanted. She would no longer have an excuse to so selfishly remain by his side. Ye Wangxi had her pride too; she wouldn't beg for Nangong Si's love or pity. So Nangong Si was giving her this jade pendant as something to remember him by…
"Do you…um…do you get what I mean?" "…Mn."
Nangong Si was clearly delighted. "Th-then, if you want…" he stammered clumsily, "you can…uh, you can address me the way you used to, when we were little, I…I think that would be great… Um, sorry… I really don't know what to say… Err…" He heaved a sigh of despair. At last, as though even he couldn't stand it any longer, he clapped a hand over his eyes. "Heavens above, what am I saying?"
Now it was Ye Wangxi's turn to be taken aback. She jerked her head up in surprise; eyes wide, a faint flush crept over her face. Bamboo leaves swirled over Naihe Bridge. Her robes rippled in the wind as she held the jade pendant warm in her hand, its scarlet tassel fluttering between her fingers. Finally—tentative, wary, and whisper-soft—she ventured, "A-Si?"
Perhaps it was his imagination. In that moment, her voice, irrevocably distorted by the voice-changing spell, seemed to carry a note of its old tenderness as it floated over the breeze. Nangong Si looked up and caught Ye Wangxi's face in the resplendent glow of dawn. A smile unfolded upon her handsome, elegant features, but within her half-closed eyes was a wet glimmer. In the end, she couldn't stop the tear that rolled down past her brilliant smile.
As Nangong Si gazed at her face, so familiar, a hazy childhood memory rose before his eyes.
He saw a young girl with rosy cheeks and long lashes, her face gentle and sweet. Back then, Nangong Liu hadn't yet sent Ye Wangxi to train and cultivate in the shadow city. Xu Shuanglin had recently brought her home, and she followed Nangong Si everywhere to learn some basic spiritual techniques.
On this day in particular, Nangong Liu had sent the pair into one of Rufeng Sect's simplest illusions as a training exercise. Although the illusion wasn't a difficult one to break, it was frightening. Vengeful ghosts roamed within, hair draped over their faces as they wailed and groaned.
At first, Nangong Si didn't pay Ye Wangxi much mind; he was focused on dispatching the ghosts. But as he walked deeper into the illusion, he realized Ye Wangxi had fallen behind. Her tiny figure was curled up in the abandoned temple, too scared to move an inch.
He shot her a backward glance and snorted. But as he was about stride off, he saw a hanged ghost drift over, its long, scarlet tongue reaching toward her neck—
"Aaaaaaahh!"
By the time Ye Wangxi noticed, she was too terrified to do anything but scream. Clutching her sword to her chest, she turned her face away.
But somehow, nothing happened.
When she summoned the courage to open her eyes, she saw Nangong Si standing in front of her. He had run the hanged ghost through and stuck it with a lightning talisman. Sparks danced around him as he looked down at her. He'd meant to scold her, but her expression was too pitiable. She looked like an affrighted kitten, tears spilling from eyes wide and round as saucers.
Nangong Si froze. Finally he managed to stammer, "Wh-why are you so useless? How can you be scared of ghosts…"
"They're ghosts!" Ye Wangxi sobbed. "If you're not scared of ghosts, what are you scared of?"
"Why are girls so useless?"
"But I don't want to be useless!" the pretty girl wailed, so overcome with indignation her nose began to run. "Who would want to be a burden? I want to help, but you were walking too fast, you didn't even wait for me… I… I am scared of ghosts…"
"Huh…"
In the end, Nangong Si squatted beside her. He didn't know how to cheer her up, so he watched blankly as she cried.
Before she started training in the shadow city, Ye Wangxi's tears had rolled down her cheeks just like any other girl's. Between sobs, she choked out, "What are you looking at?"
"I'm waiting to see when you'll be done crying." Ye Wangxi stared at him.
"Once you're done, we can go together. Why are you so weak anyway?" Nangong Si sighed. He lifted a hand and flicked Ye Wangxi's pale forehead. "Stay with me. I'll protect you."
As Nangong Si stood lost in reminiscence beneath the golden sun and blushing clouds, he realized that, before today, the only time he'd seen Ye Wangxi cry was within that illusion so many years ago. That was the first and last time she wept in terror, as any girl might. In the years that followed, she had been forged into steel, frozen into ice. She sealed her hopes and fears beneath a stoic facade so complete even she had forgotten the girl she used to be. She only knew she was to follow this scion of Rufeng Sect from childhood into youth, until he had become a gongzi, and she had forsaken her beauty.
And just like that—without shedding a tear, without burdening him—she had quietly followed him for two decades.