EVERYONE USED TO SAY that Gu Mang had the ferocity of an alpha wolf when he fought: he was fierce, sharp, and strong, with a powerful and commanding air. He was the untouchable war general of the empire of Chonghua, positioned so high above others that he seemed to stand upon a holy altar. That was why he had received the title "Beast of the Altar."
But the rest of the world didn't know of his other feral traits.
Only Mo Xi knew what Gu Mang was like in bed. His limbs were taut and muscular, his waist sharply defined, and his body seemed full of tension when they lay entwined. When they had been inseparably tangled together, he had moved to kiss Mo Xi countless times, trapping Mo Xi deep within that wet warmth.
But it was different now.
Too much time had passed, and they were separated by betrayal, death, the nation's need for vengeance, Mo Xi's own hatred. Upon suddenly being pinned and forcibly kissed, a spark landed on Mo Xi's heart and burned up into desire. The final emotion that flickered there, however, was fury.
Mo Xi brusquely grabbed Gu Mang, burying his fingers firmly in the man's hair-knot. The scent of blood came from between their mouths. "Snap out of it."
A fireball ignited in his hand, illuminating the room. It was still just as Mo Xi remembered: a tiny, windowless nook that belonged to a slave, with everything in disarray. A waist-high pickling jar by the bed served as a makeshift bedside table, and a rounded bottle filled with wildflowers was placed on top.
"Bear with it—it'll be over soon."
Gu Mang's mind seemed to have already been completely overrun by the illusion. He gazed blankly yet hungrily at Mo Xi for a stretch, as if he couldn't understand a single word Mo Xi had said. Then he leaned in once more, wanting to kiss those pale, thin lips. What kind of goddamn medicine had that phantom given Gu Mang? Physically, he had recovered so well that if Mo Xi let his guard down even the slightest bit, Gu Mang would break free.
They fought so fiercely that in a moment's carelessness, Gu Mang tripped, falling onto the bed and dragging Mo Xi with him. The little wooden bed creaked dangerously as Mo Xi landed on top of him. Drugged with aphrodisiac, Gu Mang's body was searing, and his blue eyes burned with wet light. It was as if a flame had been ignited over a river's surface and was about to devour his mind and soul.
That fervid and familiar body trembled under Mo Xi. The act of rubbing against another man made Gu Mang's eyes even wilder, to say nothing of how Mo Xi's body had already reacted in the first place. Only by firmly suppressing his own desire could Mo Xi avoid crossing a line.
But he couldn't control his own breathing. It roughened, low and hot. As he commanded Gu Mang not to move, the brush of his breath against the shell of Gu Mang's ear made him shiver.
Gu Mang swallowed thickly, gazing at Mo Xi through eyes full of tears. "It hurts…" he rasped. "So…hot…"
You're not the only one who's hot. But there was no way Mo Xi would say such words aloud. He pinned Gu Mang down with his arms, but Gu Mang continued to struggle and squirm beneath him. How could Mo Xi maintain his control during this back and forth? Between their entwined limbs, Mo Xi angrily shouted, "Stay still!"
But Gu Mang could feel Mo Xi pressing into him, stiff and hard through their clothes. It was merely one accidental brush, but that hardness seemed to summon a memory buried deep in his mind. Gu Mang shivered all over, letting out a low moan.
At this soft noise, the pure and austere Xihe-jun felt painfully hard, frantically swollen. It was unbearable… Not to mention, Gu Mang was lying on the bed with his clothing in disarray, his eyes glazed as his chest heaved.
His expression was wholly pained, as if to reproach Mo Xi for being unwilling to touch him, or as if he only felt agony and emptiness.
Mo Xi couldn't respond and thereby strengthen the illusion. Nor could he extinguish the aphrodisiac within Gu Mang.
His forehead was covered in a sheen of sweat. Amid the chaos, as Mo Xi glimpsed his own reflection in Gu Mang's eyes, he suddenly thought that if…if he could render Gu Mang temporarily unconscious, he might be able to buy more time.
With this thought, he inhaled and got to his feet, his hand striking the back of Gu Mang's neck. Gu Mang fainted.
Mo Xi hadn't known if it would work, but it'd been worth a try. It wasn't like things could get worse.
"Shuairan!" Mo Xi snapped. "Come!"
Answering his summons, the supple whip materialized. Mo Xi had the holy weapon bind Gu Mang to prevent him from doing anything unexpected once he woke. At that moment, he heard footsteps outside the door.
The steps halted. The door opened.
Under the moonlight, a figure gripping a dagger stood in the doorway, the pristine light illuminating his face.
"Gu Mang?!"
Then the man on the bed…
Black smoke rose. The Gu Mang on the bed abruptly dissolved into ash, and Shuairan fell limp like the shed skin of a snake.
"He was an illusion of your own creation." With a cackle, the phantom's voice came again. It seemed omnipresent, issuing from no discernible source. "You're the one who listened to me as I guided you into thinking that Gu Mang had been drugged with an aphrodisiac. You imagined Wangshu Manor, and you imagined him… Xihe-jun, you've only ever experienced Dream of Longing as cast by common cultivators of the Liao Kingdom. You've never entered a dreamscape as powerful as mine! Did you think it would be enough to simply maintain composure? Did you think you were invincible so long as you refused to believe what you saw?"
The laughter echoed ghoulishly around them.
"How naive! Come now, look at the Gu Mang before you. He's going to kill you soon. Is he an illusion or is he real? Can you tell?" The phantom's shrieking laugh was filled with the sadistic delight of toying with a victim. "Do you decide he's an illusion and shatter him? Or do you decide to show mercy?"
He laughed harder. "True masters of Dream of Longing force you to guess. You'll live if you're right, die if you're wrong… Come, aren't you going to strike?"
Gu Mang's dagger met Shuairan in a blaze of red-gold sparks.
"Oh, by the way, Xihe-jun, did you know? Your old paramour cultivated with the methods of the Liao Kingdom and took my demonstrengthening pill. Despite his useless spiritual core, he can fight with malevolent qi."
As the phantom's words echoed in his ears, Mo Xi exchanged more than ten fearsome blows with Gu Mang. Gu Mang's face was devoid of emotion, his expression ice-cold—just like it had been after he defected, when he appeared astride his horse as the Liao Kingdom's commander before the armies of Chonghua. Absent any bygone affection.
"The longer you stall, the more strength he'll regain." The apparition snickered. "Xihe-jun, this passive approach of yours is hopeless. He's the Beast of the Altar, not the Runt of Chonghua."
Shuairan wound around the black blade of the dagger—but with a flick of the blade's tip, its flow of spiritual energy was cut off. The blade flipped to stab at Mo Xi. The light of the dagger illuminated Gu Mang's face, like a silk ribbon flashing past his eyes.
Mo Xi cursed inwardly, leaping backward. "Blade transformation!"
Shuairan whipped back into his palms. In a flash of red light, it became a longsword the color of blood and met the dagger once more with a clang.
Mo Xi gritted his teeth. Over the clashing of dagger and sword, he gazed at the emotionless face mere inches away. Was it an illusion from Dream of Longing? Or was it the real Gu Mang sent to meet him…
The phantom laughed wildly. "Come on, with your ability, you could easily kill him for real. Stab him in the chest, why don't you?" He cackled. "Why don't you stab him?! If he's real, he'll die—wouldn't that be just what you wanted? A traitor, a turncoat… Come, Xihe-jun, what are you waiting for? Kill him! Ha ha ha!"'
Yes, Gu Mang was a traitor. He had killed so many civilians and slaughtered so many soldiers; he had made those who had believed in him fall to the deepest depths. He had defected from his motherland and surrendered to the Liao Kingdom.
But hadn't he also been the commander who elevated what was now the foremost imperial army of Chonghua? With his own blood and tears, with his very life…he had led them scrabbling out of the hellish smoke of war.
It was Gu Mang who had brought his brothers crawling back, who had returned the bodies of the dead. He'd seen hope, he'd seen the future, and so he had roared, enduring it all to say: Come, everything's okay. You've named me General Gu, so I'll bring you home no matter what. I'll bring you home…
A crowd of dirty cultivators, a slew of orphaned slaves—with his loyalty and devotion, Gu Mang had hoped to grant his dead comrades and brothers an honorable and respectable burial, securing them gravestones inscribed with their names.
But Chonghua had refused.
The old nobles had refused.
Gu Mang's soldiers had entered hell for the people of Chonghua and staggered out half dead, dragging corpses behind them. But the attitude of the person on the throne seemed to say:
Hm? Shouldn't you all have died in hell? Why'd you come back? Where does that leave me? You're an army composed of slaves and led by a slave. Surely Chonghua can't bury your dead on Warrior Soul Mountain, much less reward the living with rank and riches equal to the nobility, can it?
Bastards should go home to hell. Desolate burial mounds will do. What need have you for tombstones? Why didn't you all just die?
So Gu Mang had defected; so Gu Mang had left. It wasn't like Mo Xi couldn't understand or forgive that.
But why had he chosen the Liao Kingdom?
It was the Liao Kingdom that had killed Mo Xi's father! The cannibalistic Liao Kingdom that relied on gruesome techniques to murder and terrorize all in their path! Why?! Nearly all the people of the Liao Kingdom were insane. Every time they conquered a country, a massacre ensued. They ate their victims and drank their blood… They were infatuated with tyranny and willing to ruin all that was good in their nation. Why did he insist on choosing the Liao Kingdom?
For revenge? For hatred?
Or was it because the Liao Kingdom was one of the few great nations able to rival Chonghua? Had Gu Mang thought that only by entering that nest of demons, stripping away all his kindness, and sacrificing his loyalty could there come a day when soldiers surrounded Chonghua's city walls— when he could at last tear out the emperor's heart and trample the heads of these disdainful pure-blooded nobles into bloody gore under his feet?!
As Mo Xi's thoughts raced, Gu Mang struck down the Shuairan sword he held.
The dagger flew to a stop, its point against Mo Xi's chest.
Gu Mang made no sound, nor did he make his next move. He only gazed at him apathetically and said, "You've lost."
Mo Xi didn't respond. The phantom, on the other hand, laughed, almost sighing. "I did warn you, Xihe-jun, but you still didn't have the heart to fight him seriously."
Mo Xi remained silent.
"In honor of your infatuation, I'll tell you the truth." The phantom paused dramatically, then resumed with delight. "The Gu Mang in front of you is real.
"This is all thanks to your unwillingness to harm him. Otherwise, I'm sure he'd be no match for you. But…" He laughed again. "You're still attached while he's indifferent. Right now, Gu Mang is under the control of his malevolent qi and only listens to me. If I wanted him to kill you, he wouldn't hesitate."
His voice meandered, unhurried. "Blurring the line between true and false, forcing you to make difficult choices—this is the true use of Dream of Longing. Have you figured it out yet? Unfortunately, even if you have, it's already too late." The phantom delivered his final command with a smile: "Go on, kill him."
Gu Mang's azure-blue eyes darkened, and he brandished his blade—
But at this crucial moment, the red lotus sigil on Mo Xi's neck glowed, and a dozen red sword glares exploded from his body.
Caught off guard, Gu Mang turned to dodge and shattered a good few of the swords flying at him. But in the instant he used his full concentration to avoid the sword array, Shuairan's rope form bound him, snaking up from beneath his feet. Thrown off balance, Gu Mang staggered and fell to his knees, bracing himself with one hand on the floor. He raised his head to level a baleful glare at Mo Xi.
"You were…pretending," he said.
Mo Xi dispersed the sword array, his expression rather complicated. He stepped in front of Gu Mang, spiritual energy flowing in his palm, and made Shuairan tie Gu Mang tighter. Then, with two fingers, he tilted Gu Mang's jaw up and plucked the demonic weapon from his shaking hands.
Mo Xi stared into his clear blue eyes, face dark and voice like ice. "Of course. If I were so easily captured, wouldn't I have wasted all the effort Shixiong put into teaching me?"
Gu Mang's face was expressionless, as if he couldn't understand a single word Mo Xi said.
Mo Xi looked up. "Have any more schemes, good sir? Why not try one of those next?"
That phantom sneered. "Of course I—"
Before he could finish, the surrounding dreamscape shook.
The phantom was clearly shocked. Mo Xi heard low cursing reverberate throughout the illusion, but it continued to dissolve.
"Mo Xi, the victor is yet to be determined," the phantom hissed. "You can't hope to catch me—don't celebrate too soon!"
Mo Xi looked unworried. It seemed that the emperor's reinforcements had finally arrived.
Within the illusion, bricks and tiles began tumbling down one after another, but they didn't hurt Mo Xi. Once someone attacked the Dream of Longing from the outside, it could no longer be maintained. The vision before them twisted and warped. With a crash, Wangshu Manor shattered into thousands of pieces, and the scene disappeared without a trace.
"Xihe-jun! Xihe-jun!" A pair of reinforcements had indeed come and shattered the barrier from outside, and one was none other than Yue Chenqing. After hastily bounding over, he let out a sigh of relief upon seeing Mo Xi—though he started when he saw Gu Mang.
"Are you…uh, are you two okay?"
Mo Xi had returned to the foothills of Warrior Soul Mountain, his hand still buried in Gu Mang's hair-knot, keeping him still. Meanwhile, the red lotus sigil on his neck was fading. Soon, it vanished completely.
Before Mo Xi could reply, the other reinforcement spoke—the emperor had sent who else but Murong Lian. He was leaning against a tree, looking so lazy it seemed as if he were saying, I don't care if you live or die. If you're alive, I'll go report back; if you're dead, then I'll set off firecrackers and return with your corpse. He was even holding his pipe, taking a leisurely puff of ephemera and exhaling diaphanous smoke.
"Why wouldn't they be okay?" he asked. "Aren't they dawdling around right here in front of you?"
Yue Chenqing wanted to say something, but Murong Lian beat him to it. "This traitor is so very talented," he said as he sneered at Gu Mang. "I tortured him until he was on the verge of death, yet now he's somehow lively enough to escape prison."
No one said a word.
"Ah, Xihe-jun, this lord can't help but feel suspicious. Given how quickly he healed, could it be that you've been taking care of him in secret?" Murong Lian asked sarcastically.
Mo Xi had no desire to speak to this lunatic. He turned to ask Yue Chenqing, "Why're you here as well?"
"His Imperial Majesty said since I've been your deputy general for two years, I should at least have some experience with Liao Kingdom techniques, so he made me come." Yue Chenqing's eyes widened. "Xihejun, have you already found that rapist?"
Mo Xi glanced in front of them. There was a cave up ahead. Casting Dream of Longing required potent spiritual energy, and it couldn't be deployed too far from the spellcaster.
"Right in there," he said.
There was no time to lose, so the three of them ventured into the cave. Yue Chenqing glanced at Gu Mang several times and finally said, "Xihe-jun, you're using Shuairan to bind him—when we meet that rapist later, what will you fight with?"
"Shuairan is not my only weapon."
"But Shuairan is your favorite. How about this—why don't I find you something else to bind him with?" Yue Chenqing scratched his head, digging around in his qiankun pouch and producing a flashy gold immobility talisman. "Use this! It's made by the Yue Clan, and it can—"
"If it's from your dad, put it back," Mo Xi said. "The spiritual energy of those talismans is unmanageable; using them is a headache."
Yue Chenqing hesitated. "My fourth uncle made it, not my dad."
Seeing that Mo Xi said nothing further, Yue Chenqing cupped the immobility talisman in his hands like a jewel and skipped happily toward Gu Mang.
Gu Mang stared at him.
"Aiyo, I'm a little scared. They really do look like wolf eyes." Yue Chenqing rubbed the back of his neck, too afraid to make direct eye contact with Gu Mang. He clasped his hands together twice in greeting. "Wolfdage, my apologies."
Gu Mang glared viciously at him, his eyes darting back and forth as if to say, You dare?!
Yue Chenqing's courage outweighed his skill. With a slap, he stuck his fourth uncle's talisman right onto Gu Mang's forehead.