THAT NIGHT, it was Mengze who brought Mo Xi back to his manor.
This task didn't befit her rank; but just like her elder brother the emperor, Mengze didn't care for what other people thought. Gu Mang lifted the curtain for her, wanting to help Mo Xi into the carriage, but Mengze only looked at him. "I can handle this on my own."
Gu Mang hesitated. "I'm sorry. I didn't do it on purpose. I just wanted to take the wine on his behalf."
Mengze wasn't cruel to him, but neither was she kind. She gazed at him impassively and said nothing. In contrast, Yue-niang scoffed from beside her. "Take the wine on his behalf?" she snapped. "Do you have the right? Are you worthy of that?"
Gu Mang paused. "It's just that I learned about some things... I want to make up for them."
"Make up for them?" Yue-niang shrilled. "You caused so much trouble and hurt him all those times, and now you figure out that you should 'make up for them.' But what use do we have for your swine heart? What could you possibly make up for?" After a pause, Yue-niang continued like a dog gnawing on a bone. "You're nothing more than an accursed liar! You..."
"Enough." Mengze raised a hand to stop Yue-niang and turned toward Gu Mang. Under the pristine moonlight, her expression was very cold, and though she didn't outwardly deride him, her gaze was icy. "General Gu, I know that you had good intentions. But I ask you to please stop making trouble for Mo-dage. You' ve already hurt him so deeply," she said. "Let him be."
She didn't call him names—Mengze would never say such things but Gu Mang understood her meaning. He looked at the wound on Mo Xi's shoulder and fell silent for a moment. Then, without a word, he turned and stepped aside. Mengze and Mo Xi entered the compartment, and he followed in their wake.
When they arrived at the residence, Li Wei, who had already heard about the commotion, was waiting solemnly at the door with a crowd of servants. As soon as he caught sight of Mengze, he hurried to kowtow. "Your subordinate Li Wei greets Princess Mengze! To your longevity and prosperity!"
Although Mengze wasn't the mistress of Xihe Manor, nearly everyone treated her that way. They respectfully and warmly led her into the house.
Xihe Manor's seats were all arranged in pairs. Li Wei was more than ready to kiss up to their guest; he got Mo Xi settled in a side room, then came out to flatter Mengze. "Princess, our lord truly thinks of you day and night. See how he saves you a special place in everything, all so it's convenient when you visit."
Mengze sighed. "He's just lazy—he only does this for the sake of symmetry. He's not saving anything for me."
"How could that be? Even we servants can see the feelings my lord holds for the princess." As he spoke, Li Wei pulled out one of the yellow rosewood chairs. "Princess, please take a seat and enjoy some tea before you go."
Mengze didn't demur, so Yue-niang smiled. "Then we'll be imposing on Housekeeper Li."
"It's no trouble, no trouble at all!" Li Wei hastily waved at the other servants to prepare some snacks and honeyed fruits, and to bring out a pot of the finest biluochun tea for Mengze. He chuckled as he fawned over her. "Princess, look, this tea set only has two cups—it's the lord's favorite. In the future, you must come often to have some tea with him or play a game of chess."
Mengze glanced at the teaware; it was indeed a set from Chonghua's imperial kilns with only one teapot and two cups. The sort of tea set usually used to receive very close friends, or used between married couples. The imperial kilns manufactured them to please such buyers, the implication being that the affection between the tea-drinkers ran so deep as to leave no room for others.
Mengze turned her snow-white face aside and coughed lightly. "Housekeeper Li, don't be absurd. I've never liked porcelain with pine, bamboo, and plum blossoms. If you continue to presume your lord's intentions, I just might tell him when he wakes. See if he punishes you."
"Aiyo, then I dare not presume," said Li Wei. Despite his words, the smile in his eyes didn't fade in the least. A woman's feelings were easy to guess. Although Mengze made a show of rebuking him, she still liked to hear that Mo Xi was thinking of her, looking after her, and treating her differently from others.
As Li Wei served the princess tea and sweets and made conversation, he saw—out of the corner of his eye—that there was someone standing in a dim corner, watching silently. Li We1's heart skipped a beat.
It was usually Gu Mang who sat where Mengze was sitting and used the teacup Mengze was using... But—but that was merely because Gu Mang didn't understand etiquette, and the lord didn't care to manage him, that he was allowed to behave in such an unruly manner. Would Gu Mang see this as Mengze encroaching on his territory and become hostile toward her?
Li Wei's heart pounded. He was about to find some excuse to send Gu Mang away when he saw Gu Mang look at Mengze. His expression wasn't hateful—rather, it was bleak. He was like a fuzzy little wolf pup who had only now realized his rank and fate within the pack. He stood still for a moment, then turned to leave.
Many things were fine as long as he didn't know about them. But now that he did, he understood in hindsight why other people had reacted to him the way they did. Gu Mang finally understood why Mo Xi had been so upset when Gu Mang had first sat in that chair, why he had said, This seat wasn't saved for you.
Wolves had their own hierarchies within the pack, and people were no different. He had thought that the seat beside Mo Xi was empty, so he'd had no qualms about claiming it. But it turned out that seat had an owner; though she hadn't come back for it yet, Mo Xi had always been saving it for her. It was he who had dared to shamelessly encroach on Mengze's place.
His cheeks scorched with heat.
"Gu Mang's been a lot more obedient recently."
It was a few days after New Year's Eve. Li Wei stroked his chin as he stood beneath the colonnade, watching Gu Mang hard at work. "He doesn't make trouble or backtalk, and he doesn't carelessly sit in certain places anymore..." He clicked his tongue and grinned as he reached his conclusion: "Medicine Master Jiang's cure is so effective."
Mo Xi had repeatedly asked Gu Mang what Jiang Yexue had said to him that night, or if he had remembered anything else, but Gu Mang was reticent. This matter remained a mystery until the first day of spring, when Mo Xi changed into a set of undyed white robes and announced that he was visiting Warrior Soul Mountain to offer incense to his father.
When he heard this, Gu Mang's eyes flashed with sadness. Mo Xi frowned. "What's wrong?"
Gu Mang had been making a great effort these past few months, and his speech was much more coherent than before. Aside from some mispronounced words, or difficulties in moments when he was overwhelmed by emotion, he didn't sound much different from ordinary people. "I want to go with you," he said. "Can I?"
"What for?"
Gu Mang lowered his gaze and softly replied, "I want to pay my respects too."
Mo Xi's slender fingers stilled in the middle of straightening his collar. He looked up and stared at Gu Mang, as if pondering something. After a long interval, he said, "Change into white clothes. I'll wait for you in the front hall."
In the spring, Warrior Soul Mountain was lushly verdant and draped in fragrant blossoms. The ruthless cold of winter had passed, and the newly liberated streams babbled along. The warm April sun shone on the river's surface, which sparkled like crystal. Startled animals fled into the brush now and then with a rustle. The two of them ascended the mountain in silence, walking single file. To show one's sincerity in paying respects, riding swords or using ginggong to scale the mountain was forbidden; visitors had to walk up, step by step. Following the path from the bottom of the mountain, it would take most of a shichen to reach the summit.
Two imperial guards stood at attention outside the heroes' tombs. When they saw Mo Xi, they lowered their heads and performed their bows, the red tassels on their helmets rustling. "Greetings to Xihe-jun!"
Mo Xi nodded to them and led Gu Mang into the cemetery. It was surrounded by pine and cypress trees and uncommonly still and silent, as if the cemetery itself didn't wish to disturb the eternal rest of the heroes' souls. Even the twitter of birdsong seemed somehow soft. As the two walked up the tall, white jade stairs, Gu Mang looked around at the jade gravestones inscribed in gold, as far as the eye could see.
Suhuai-jun, Zhou Jingyue. May his valiant soul rest in eternal peace.
Hanshan-jun, Yue Fengya. May his valiant soul rest in eternal peace.
On and on it went. The higher they ascended, the more gravestones there were, filled with inscriptions of their occupants' life achievements.
When Gu Mang's steps took him past a large jade gravestone, he stopped involuntarily. Fresh fruits and steamed buns were arranged before that plaque, and the ashes from the paper money that had been burned in the grave's basin were not yet scattered by the wind. In the sacrificial censer, three sticks of fragrant incense burned even now. He couldn't help peering at the name carved on the plaque. A graceful row of words was inscribed in a powerful hand: Wangshu-jun the seventh, Murong Xuan. May his valiant soul rest in eternal peace. The gold shone magnificently in the sunlight.
Mo Xi noticed Gu Mang had paused. He turned and glanced at him. "That's Murong Lian's father's tomb," he said. His gaze swept over the tribute of food and the censer, and he sighed. "Looks like Murong Lian left not too long ago."
That was fortunate—if Murong Lian saw Gu Mang here, they were nigh guaranteed another round of verbal sparring. It would not be appropriate to fight in front of so many heroes from bygone generations. Gu Mang studied Murong Xuan's tomb for a while longer and turned back to ask Mo Xi, "Where's your papa's tomb?"
"At the very top. Let's go."
The pair climbed to the mountain's summit. When they looked up, they could see the mist encircling the peak and the vast expanse of the heavens and the earth. Chonghua's imperial capital was faintly visible in the sea of clouds below, so distant it seemed like a dream from a lifetime ago. As they gazed down, they saw that the mountain path they had taken meandered like a river, linking the mortal world below to the city of the dead above. Here on the peak of Warrior Soul Mountain, death was far more real than life.
Mo Xi strode over to a gravestone as tall as three men and placed the sacrificial basket in his hand at its side. "Father, I've come to see you."
The mountain wind blew through his white robes. The peak seemed so close to the nine heavens that the rising sun scattered its rays right over their heads. The golden words on the jade gravestone gleamed, and Mo Xi's long lashes rustled and trembled as they met that dazzling light to take in every inch of the inscription.
Fuling-jun, Mo Qingchi. May his valiant soul rest in eternal peace.
Mo Xi knelt to light the incense and arrange the sacrificial food. The gilt paper money was set alight; the blue-green wisps of smoke carried with them the fresh scent of pine and cypress boughs.
Gu Mang knelt beside him as well. He reached out a hand, hesitant, and looked at Mo Xi with a question in his eyes. Mo Xi paused but didn't stop him, so Gu Mang also gathered up some paper money and cast it into the brazier. The flames flared to life and waves of heat rose. Gu Mang squinted, coughing softly.
Mo Xi prodded at the paper money with a set of fire tongs, ensuring that each sheet caught and curled into ash, one after another. His feelings were hard to put into words. Many years ago, he had hoped to bring Gu Mang with him to pay their respects together before his father's grave. He had wanted the only elder he held in high regard to see the only person to whom he had given his heart.
But back then, Gu Mang had refused. He would invariably smile and dodge the topic. "Better not to—I mean, considering our relationship, Uncle Mo definitely wouldn't be happy if we paid respects to him. He'd rain curses on you from above for messing around." Or he would flippantly say, "Shidi, be good—Shige can accompany you in other things, but this is really out of the question. It's too formal; your future wife will be jealous. How would I dare to make the maiden upset?" Gu Mang knew he oughtn't trouble a maiden's heart, so he thoroughly stomped on Mo Xi's sincerity.
But the present Gu Mang had obediently followed him here without anyone compelling him to do so, and even properly burned the paper money with him. It was as if his old wish had at last come true. Yet Mo Xi didn't feel the slightest bit happy.
After all the paper ingots were burned, Mo Xi sighed. "Let's go."
But Gu Mang didn't budge. He tilted his head to look at Mo Xi, then said without preamble, "I'm sorry."
Mo Xi was about to rise, but upon hearing this, he stilled once more, his gaze fixed on the gravestone. After a spell, he asked, "On New Year's Eve, did Jiang Yexue tell you about my father?"
"You guessed that was it?"
"After seeing the way you've behaved in these past few months, I figured that must be the case."
Gu Mang repeated himself. "I'm very sorry."
Mo Xi looked at him.
Great, how wonderful. He had once wanted to pay his respects to his father with this person, and now he was finally here. He had once wanted to hear this exact apology, and now he'd finally received it. But it wasn't supposed to be like this—the person here to pay respects should have been his beloved, not a traitorous prisoner and slave. The apology should have come from someone who understood the consequences of his actions, not someone so ignorant and clueless.
"I really...really can't remember why I betrayed you back then," Gu Mang said earnestly. "But I won't in the future."
Mo Xi swallowed thickly and closed his eyes for a beat. "Gu Mang, what future do you think you and I could have?"
Gu Mang didn't know what to say. He could only mumble, "Don't be upset..."
"Why would you think I'm upset?" Mo Xi retorted. "The days when Pd feel upset because of you have long since passed. As for your betrayal... you did it because you had your own ambition, and your own vengeance to exact. You were a genius on the battlefield, a lunatic whose name made the enemy cower in terror. Your lifelong dream was to charge headlong onto the battleground and achieve greatness with your army. Your eyes lit up at the prospect of battle; you didn't like to shed blood, but war excited you. Because that was the only way for you to reverse your destiny." Mo Xi paused and turned back to look at him. "But I'm not the same."
Gu Mang made no reply.
"I hate the battlefield," Mo Xi continued. "Over and over, it takes away the things I care for most, and gives me honors I care nothing for in exchange. Gu Mang, the two of us were once comrades on the field, but perhaps we were never comrades at heart." He turned his gaze to the clouds that clung to the mountaintop. "Perhaps our paths were destined to diverge from the start."