SPARKS FLEW from the charcoal brazier, and the pale-blue bed canopy hung open. Mo Xi sat on the edge of the bed, staring at Gu Mang with dark eyes. "Get on your knees."
Gu Mang had learned how to kneel at Luomei Pavilion long ago, but he didn't like doing it. It wasn't because of pride, but because he didn't know what those people telling him to kneel wanted from him. He got on his knees as he was told every time, but for some reason, the spite on their faces never faded. Rather, they only flushed redder with rage. He didn't know what part of this position he'd gotten wrong.
Gu Mang hesitated as he looked at Mo Xi. Then he knelt, falling to his knees by the bed of Xihe Manor's master, down by that man's feet. In the past, he hadn't cared if others were satisfied with him, but he depended on the person before him for sustenance. Since the meat on tomorrow's table was at stake, he hoped that he could lift Mo Xi's spirits.
But Mo Xi didn't look satisfied. "Did anyone ever tell you what it means to kneel?" he glanced downward and asked in a chilling tone.
Gu Mang shook his head.
"Getting on your knees denotes submission, humility, and deference." Mo Xi stared at him. "But there's none of that in your face. You've only bent your knees; your back is still straight."
Gu Mang said nothing; it seemed as though he had no idea what to say. He remained kneeling, blinking in helpless bewilderment. The frank honesty of his gaze verged on rudeness.
This was indeed why he had infuriated everyone who had instructed him to kneel. Though he got down on his knees, there was no shame on his face. Over the past two years, so many people had sought to see him humbled and ruined, wanted to see him live a life worse than death—but no one had succeeded. Gu Mang was like a blank sheet of paper, calmly accepting all their venom and disdain. His ignorance had become his greatest shield.
Mo Xi's rage flared once more. He grabbed Gu Mang by the jaw and leaned over to stare into his eyes. His aura was like a sword unsheathing with a metallic clang, ready to run Gu Mang through. "Gu Mang, do you really think I wouldn't lay a hand on you?"
After staring at him for a long while, Gu Mang's response was to ask, unexpectedly, "Did you drink?"
Stunned silent, Mo Xi froze. He seemed to have been reminded of something. He let go of Gu Mang at once, as if burned. He had used too much strength; his fingers had branded two bright red marks on Gu Mang's pale cheek. Mo Xi turned away, voice stormy. "That's none of your business."
Gu Mang touched his own cheek. "There were lots of people who drank at Luomei Pavilion. They drank a lot, and then they'd become very bad."
"That's called being drunk," Mo Xi said coldly.
"Then are you drunk?"
Mo Xi turned and shot him a glare. "If I were drunk, could I still talk to you like this?"
"Then have you been drunk before?"
"I.."
Outside, the snow fell whisper-soft, and the northern wind wailed. For a moment, neither spoke, and the only sound within the room came from the crackling brazier.
I've never been drunk. Only once did I have a little too much, just that once. You saw me, you teased me, and you forgave me. From then on, I kept myself strictly in check and never allowed myself such lack of restraint again. How did you forget?
How could you forget? How dare you forget! These words roiled in his heart, hot as steam, but the sentence that left his mouth was coldly unfeeling. "My affairs are no concern of yours."
Gu Mang fell silent.
The two of them looked wordlessly at each other. Mo Xi stared at Gu Mang as if he could see through those limpid blue eyes directly into Gu Mang's heart.
Mo Xi thought, if only he could see straight in. If only he could cruelly tear this man apart, pierce him through—if only he could get a good look at the secrets in his bones, the currents in his blood, the filth in his soul. If he could see how dirty the man kneeling before him was, perhaps he'd let go of this persistent attachment.
Gu Mang wiggled his bare feet and asked, "When you told me to keep you company, did you want us to stare at each other?"
Mo Xi glared. "Don't be ridiculous."
"Then what do you want me to do?"
Mo Xi began to think in earnest malice, deliberately tearing his gaze away from Gu Mang. The words You'll keep me company tonight were clearly suggestive and inappropriate, but neither man thought of it that way. Mo Xi was truly determined to refuse Gu Mang a peaceful slumber if he himself couldn't sleep, and Gu Mang had accepted the camaraderie of sharing sleep, or the lack thereof, with the man who provided him his meals.
"Here—you read, I'll sleep." Mo Xi browsed his bookshelf, then tossed a scroll titled Legends of Divine Catastrophe at Gu Mang.
"I can't read..."
"Hasn't Li Wei been teaching you for the past month?" Mo Xi grumpily waved off his protestations and lay down. "Read the words you know."
"Oh." Gu Mang accepted Legends of Divine Catastrophe and began to read out loud, starting with the title: "Legs of Vine Cat."
Mo Xi nearly smacked him in the face with a pillow.
When Gu Mang finished reading, Mo Xi had understood not a single sentence of this book he'd memorized at the age of five. Whatever Gu Mang had read aloud was a work of literature entirely novel to Mo Xi. In the second half of the night, the still-sleepless Mo Xi rolled out of bed, glared balefully at Gu Mang for a long interval, then suddenly yanked him upright.
"Where are we going?" asked Gu Mang.
"The study."
Gu Mang had been kneeling for a long time, so his legs were numb with pins and needles when he was abruptly lifted to his feet. After staggering a few steps, he crumpled to the ground, and as he fell, he instinctively reached out to grab something. In his disoriented state, the closest thing to him was Mo Xi, so he wrapped his arms around Mo Xi's waist.
The coldest days of winter were upon them, but the coal fire in the room was roaring, and Mo Xi, hot-blooded and hale, was dressed very lightly. When Gu Mang embraced him, the only thing separating him from Mo Xi's slender waist was a thin layer of underclothes. Mo Xi's abs rose and fell with his breath beneath Gu Mang's palms, and those ever-tidy lapels had been pulled askew, exposing a glimpse of his well-muscled chest.
Mo Xi turned to level him with a dark and inscrutable stare.
If any ordinary woman were in Gu Mang's place—or even certain men—they would definitely be swooning over Xihe-jun's masculine scent and imposing physique. But Gu Mang's past affections had faded, and it seemed that, as a wolf, he had no interest in matters of love. Thus he saw nothing noteworthy about the male body in front of him. If he were pressed for his thoughts, he'd probably say that this body felt hard and hot, and seemed to carry a whiff of danger.
"Let go," Mo Xi gritted out between clenched teeth.
With his arms still wrapped around Mo Xi's waist, Gu Mang looked up at him with those blue eyes and said baldly, "I can't stand up." He pointed at his legs. "They're not working."
Mo Xi's expression darkened further and further. "They're just numb, they still work fine. I said, let go of me!"
At the sight of Mo Xi's riled expression, Gu Mang thought to himself that this man really was very easily set off. He clearly had no clue how to care for his companions—even Fandou was better than him in this respect.
He thus silently released Mo Xi and staggered to his feet. Almost immediately, Mo Xi pushed open the door and, without looking back, walked through the colonnade into the study.
The manor's study was secluded and sparsely furnished. It was therefore unsurprising that the room did not contain a coal brazier. Mo Xi had a fire-type core to begin with, which, coupled with his hot-blooded vigor, meant that the cold didn't bother him in the least. Dressed in a single, thin robe, he strode over to the desk. He glanced back at Gu Mang, who was hovering by the door, and said, "Get the hell in here, hop to it!"
Gu Mang paused for a second, then crouched low to the ground.
"What are you doing?"
Starting from the doorstep, Gu Mang began to hop over. Once, twice...
Mo Xi was about to implode with fury. "I didn't mean literally!"
Gu Mang looked up and sighed. "Okay, then you tell me how to do it."
If not for the look on his face, indicating that he was humbly and agreeably seeking instruction, Mo Xi could have mistaken him for the old, incorrigible Gu Mang trying to tease him.
Mo Xi resisted the urge to blow up with all he had and said, "Come here."
It seemed like Gu Mang was worried he'd infuriate his volatile companion again. "I don't need to hop over there anymore, right?"
"... Walk."
Gu Mang stood up and walked to Mo Xi. He watched Mo Xi calmly, awaiting his next words.
Mo Xi looked through the titles on the shelf for a book suitable for introductory reading and came away empty-handed. Frowning, he grabbed a brush and paper, along with an inkstone and inkstick, and laid them out on the rosewood desk. "How many words have you learned from Li Wei?"
Gu Mang counted on his fingers. After using all his fingers, he wiggled his bare feet and continued counting on his toes. When he had determined that the words he knew outnumbered all his fingers and toes put together, he crowed proudly, "Lots."
Mo Xi pulled out a chair. "Sit."
Gu Mang sat and cast Mo Xi an inquisitive glance.
Mo Xi crossed his arms and leaned against the rosewood table, looking Gu Mang up and down. With a wave of his hand, a wisp of flame issued from his palm and lit all the lamps in the room. "I'll be the judge of that."
"What does 'judge' mean?"
"It means I'Il say something, and you'll write it out."
Bad habits learned at Luomei Pavilion were likely still stuck in Gu Mang's mind. He clumsily took up the brush, dipped it in ink, then asked, "If I can write them, will there be a reward?"
"You'll be punished if you can't."
Gu Mang's eager expression turned anxious. He tentatively asked, "No more food for me?"
Mo Xi glanced at him without replying. Under the golden candlelight, Gu Mang's thin face was so close to his. His eyes, so blue they seemed to have been rinsed by the sea, were fixed on Mo Xi. Since the day Gu Mang came to Xihe Manor, Mo Xi had very rarely seen the numbness and apathy he'd had in his eyes when they were first reunited at Luomei Pavilion. Humanity was gradually returning to Gu Mang's gaze. But no matter how many times Mo Xi tried, he never unearthed even the tiniest hint that Gu Mang still remembered his past.
Mo Xi said, "We'll talk about it."
"I need to have food," Gu Mang persisted. "Or else I'm gonna be hungry."
Mo Xi glared at him. "What makes you think you can bargain with me? Write."
Sloppy handwriting splotched across the paper. Mo Xi would say a word and Gu Mang would write it out. If he wrote it correctly, Mo Xi would remain silent, but if he got it wrong, Mo Xi would call him an idiot. Mo Xi made Gu Mang write the numbers one through five, followed by Gu Mang's own name, and then Mo Xi's name.
Still utterly unsatisfied, with his emotions in turmoil, Mo Xi demanded Gu Mang write, "In life I'll return to you, in death I will yearn for you," and "This longing will only end when we see each other again." Even when it was clear Gu Mang couldn't possibly know how to write any of these words, Mo Xi refused to let him go. Instead, he pinned him to the chair and forbade him from moving.
"I don't know how..." Gu Mang was woeful.
The light in the room was soft and dim, the snow outside a hazy white. Mo Xi looked at the crooked words strewn messily all over the page. In each line of yearning verse, there were mistakes in every direction. He walked behind Gu Mang and took the brush. "I'll teach you."
As sleet struck the windowsill, Gu Mang sat in his chair while Mo Xi's tall figure leaned over him. Each of Mo Xi's brushstrokes was peerlessly beautiful, exquisitely elegant. He wrote, and Gu Mang copied him clumsily. Halfway through, he couldn't hold back a sneeze.
Mo Xi's hand stilled, and he looked down. "Cold?"
"Go put on a coat. If you freeze to death, it'd be a bother having to take care of you."
"It's only a little cold." Gu Mang rubbed his nose. "Not too bad."
Mo Xi simply could not insist after that; if he kept on demanding, it would seem like he cared about him. So he continued teaching Gu Mang to write.
But as the lesson wore on, Gu Mang couldn't bear the cold anymore. Without conscious thought, he began instinctively inching toward the only heat source in the room—Mo Xi. Little by little, he edged closer. Mo Xi, immersed in his instruction, was unaware of Gu Mang's movements at first. By the time he noticed, Gu Mang was already tucked close to him, like a wolf seeking warmth from its pack—as though, in the next breath, he'd nestle into Mo Xi's embrace.
Mo Xi's eyes darkened. Without a word, he set the brush aside and seized Gu Mang by the jaw, forcing him to look up. Mo Xi narrowed his eyes in stormy displeasure. "When I told you to get the hell out and put some clothes on, you refused. Now what?"