"HEARTBALM?"
Inside the medicine master's manor, Jiang Fuli set down the scroll in his hands and raised his almond eyes to study Gu Mang, who was soaked to the bone and still had a fishing net strapped to his back. "Who do you want this for? Mo Xi or Murong Lian?"
"Murong…" He stopped himself, remembering the request Murong Chuyi had made right before passing out. Gu Mang knew a gentleman's word was gold. He had nodded to Murong Chuyi, so he had to do as he promised. "Not gonna tell you," he said instead.
Jiang Fuli narrowed his eyes. "Do you know what kind of substance this is?"
"Yeah. It's for healing."
"It can heal, yes, but it can also harm," Jiang Fuli said. "Heartbalm is a plant that's half-demonic in nature. Although it can be used to dull pain, its toxicity cannot be underestimated. I have piles of it in my storerooms— it's not particularly precious, so I don't mind giving you some. But…"
Gu Mang raised his hand. "I swear I won't use it to poison people."
Jiang Fuli scoffed. "Poison people? While I'm right here in Chonghua? If you dare get up to trouble where I can see, I'll respect you as a man of courage."
"Then what did you say but for?" Gu Mang asked.
"But—I will tell your lord Xihe-jun that you asked me for heartbalm."
Gu Mang thought it over. Murong Chuyi was still unconscious, so saving him was of utmost urgency. Once Gu Mang brought him back to life, he could explain all of this to Murong Chuyi. So he assented. He followed Jiang Fuli to the storeroom to fetch the herb, waited as Jiang Fuli prepared it, then took the jar of medicine back into the recesses of Peach Blossom Lake with all speed.
Murong Chuyi was still lying where he'd fallen. He didn't look well at all. His elegant face was devoid of color, and his skin was ice-cold to the touch. Gu Mang lifted him into a sitting position, opened the jar, and slowly began to pour the medicine into Murong Chuyi's mouth. This process proved difficult. Although unconscious, Murong Chuyi still coughed from time to time. He got half the medicine down and choked on the other, brows knitted as he muttered unintelligibly. Gu Mang heard him call for his older sister, then say Yue Chenqing's name, his expression pained throughout.
Gu Mang wasn't close with Murong Chuyi, but his compassion still won in the end. He stroked Murong Chuyi's hair and soothed him with gentle words.
"Jiejie…" Murong Chuyi murmured.
To which Gu Mang said: "Jiejie's here. There now, there now."
"Chenqing…" Murong Chuyi muttered.
To which Gu Mang said: "Yep, I'm that little white bird. There now, Fourth Uncle. Here—there's still a little medicine left."
Toward the end, Murong Chuyi's colorless lips trembled, as if he were gripped by a nightmare. He clutched Gu Mang's sleeve, his eyes flickering restlessly beneath their lids, long lashes fluttering like the wings of a swallowtail butterfly. "No… Don't…"
"What?"
"You…" Murong Chuyi's entire arm was spasming. Tendons stood out in his elegant hand. "You bastard… How could you…you…"
Stunned, Gu Mang rubbed his own nose in dejection. "I'm obviously trying to help; why are you being so mean and cursing at me?"
But Murong Chuyi was still trapped in his nightmare. His pale knuckles grew paler still, and he suddenly let out a muted grunt—as if he'd endured some pain or humiliation in the dream. The outer corners of his tightly shut eyes reddened. "Bas…tard…"
Gu Mang looked at him and sighed. "Who are you cursing? Your sister or the little white bird?"
Of course Murong Chuyi didn't answer. Gu Mang stayed with him for a while longer. Eventually, Murong Chuyi's mumbling died down. In the time it took to burn a stick of incense, he stopped speaking altogether. The heartbalm medicine had begun to take effect; his features slowly relaxed, and the crease between his brows smoothed.
Gu Mang half-carried and half-dragged him to a dry patch on the stone platform and laid him down so he could rest more comfortably. Then he put his chin in his hands and sighed in boredom. "I fed you the plant, so when will you wake up?"
Murong Chuyi gave no response.
Gu Mang continued waiting for another long interval. Murong Chuyi's eyes remained firmly closed; he showed no sign of waking. Gu Mang sighed again, face propped in a hand as he studied Murong Chuyi.
Murong Chuyi was a rare beauty indeed—refined and handsome, with stunning looks. Gu Mang wasn't well-read; he didn't have the words to describe what he saw in detail. He just felt that, despite the severe lines of Murong Chuyi's features and his dauntless and intimidating air, there was an ethereal quality about him. He was like those dragon ladies in the picture books, or billowing snow in human form. In short—he was goodlooking. In more detail—he was well worth looking at. Gu Mang patiently watched him for an hour with his cheek still pressed to his hand.
But no matter how worthwhile his face, Gu Mang found that he could not keep looking at it after that hour had passed. He turned to Fandou. "Do we really need to keep watching over him like this? I don't mind…but Princess is still at home, waiting for me to cook fish for him."
Fandou barked exuberantly.
Gu Mang nodded. "You're right, Dragon Lady is an outsider, but Princess is one of us. We should catch the fish first. Anyway, I've already fed him the plant. It's not our fault if he doesn't wake up."
Fandou barked again.
And so Gu Mang went back to catching fish in the pond. The three fat grass carp he'd caught had escaped when Murong Chuyi's water strike knocked him over. His luck this time wasn't so good—despite extensive hunting, all the fish he netted were small and bony. Sunset was drawing near, and smoke was rising from the chimneys of the capital. Gu Mang couldn't help but feel glum. He hadn't imagined he would return emptyhanded after so much effort. He stood by the lake, leaning on his net. The setting sun was like rouge rinsed from the boundless sky, shimmering across the ripples on the water.
"No way," Gu Mang sighed. "Don't all the books say that kindness is rewarded? I've saved the little dragon lady, so why aren't there plump fish jumping into my hands in gratitude?"
As Gu Mang pondered this, a voice crisp as clinking jade came from behind. "What are you babbling about?"
Gu Mang jumped in surprise. He whipped around and skittered backward in one jerky motion. "You're awake? Why are you always sneaking around so quietly?"
The man who had soared over the waters was, of course, Murong Chuyi. His manner was back to normal and betrayed not a hint of his recent fainting spell. Gu Mang remarked: "That heartbalm sure was effective. You recovered so quickly."
Murong Chuyi snorted softly and gracefully flew ashore. Those phoenix eyes swept Gu Mang from tip to toe. Noticing that his clothes were still soaked, Murong Chuyi lifted a finger and golden light flashed once more. When it dimmed, Gu Mang touched his newly dried clothes in surprise and delight. "Thank you very much," he said with a grin. "You're a very kind person."
Murong Chuyi wasted no more breath. "You came to catch fish today?"
"Yes, the princess at home is sick and can't eat anything, so I wanted to catch a fresh and plump fish for him." Gu Mang rubbed his nose. "Family needs to help each other out, after all."
Murong Chuyi's sharp brows dipped slightly. "Princess?" He paused briefly. "Princess Mengze?"
Gu Mang waved his hand no. "It's Princess Mo Xi."
Murong Chuyi fell speechless. So this amnesiac Beast of the Altar wasn't being nasty calling him a "little dragon lady." Apparently, he'd somehow bestowed the ruthless god of war Mo Xi with the nickname "Princess."
Murong Chuyi looked away from Gu Mang, his features betraying nothing. He stood at the edge of the lake with his hands behind his back, facing the wind head-on. "Come ashore," he commanded.
Confused, Gu Mang waded out the water, using the pole of his fishing net for leverage.
"What kind of fish do you want?" Murong Chuyi asked.
Gu Mang was still lost, but sincerely responded: "Perch."
"How many?"
"The more the merrier."
"Too many would be wasteful," Murong Chuyi said. "I think five is sufficient."
"What are you doing?" Gu Mang wondered out loud. "Helping me nab some fish?"
Nab was honestly an insulting descriptor for what Chonghua's Ignorant Immortal Murong Chuyi was about to do. He was a master artificer after all, whose command of the art could not be fathomed by even the likes of Yue Juntian. With a gentle swish of his sleeves, a silver arrow materialized from thin air and shot into the water. It vanished into the depths of Peach Blossom Lake. When it broke the water's surface again and returned to shore, it was over ten feet long, with five fresh, plump peach blossom perch strung upon it.
Gu Mang's eyes widened, clear as blue glass. He looked at the fish, then turned to look at Murong Chuyi. After a long beat, he uttered one simple, crude phrase to express the reverence he felt. "Holy shit…" Of course it would be one of the vulgarities formerly favored by General Gu. Seriously… All his hard work had been outdone by a single sweep of the sleeves and flick of the fingers from Murong Chuyi.
With a crook of Murong Chuyi's finger, the fish flew into the basket on Gu Mang's back, and the silver arrow vanished. "If there's anything else you want, speak now," Murong Chuyi intoned.
Gu Mang shook his head as he stared at this beautiful, white-robed man with his face to the wind in the golden light of dusk. Gu Mang was a frank person; he said whatever he thought. "No wonder Little White Bird worships you."
Murong Chuyi's brow furrowed slightly. "White Bird?"
"I mean Yue…Yue…Yue something." Vexed, Gu Mang clutched his head, "Ah, I forgot his name again."
"Yue Chenqing?"
"Mm-hmm! That's the one!" Gu Mang clapped and smiled. "No wonder he chases after you all the time. Dage, you're so awesome! Could you teach me how to go swoosh-swoosh-swoosh and catch fish like that?"
After a moment's pause, Murong Chuyi sighed softly. "Give me your hand."
Gu Mang did as he was told. Murong Chuyi summoned a handful of silver needles from who knows where and placed them in Gu Mang's palm.
"What's this?"
"Voice-Obeying Arrows," said Murong Chuyi. "I've given you fifty. This arrow can change size at will and obeys spoken commands. Will that be enough for you to fish with?"
Overjoyed, Gu Mang thanked him profusely. "Yes, yes! You're so generous! And such a nice person too!" He cautiously tipped the needles into his qiankun pouch, then carefully put the pouch in his robes, like a puppy working awfully hard to hide a meaty bone. Once the arrows were safely stowed, he said again, "Thank you, kind person!"
Murong Chuyi didn't reply—he wasn't used to being thought of as a kind person. The people of Chonghua saw him as standoffish and aloof, merely Chonghua's infamous Ignorance who pursued artificing with singleminded fervor. His expression became stiff and unnatural, and after a brief silence, he changed the subject: "You mustn't tell anyone about what you saw today. Especially Yue Chenqing. Do not tell him."
Gu Mang nodded. "No problem, no problem. But there's one person I'm afraid I can't hide it from."
"Who?"
"Mo Xi," Gu Mang replied. "Medicine Master Jiang said heartbalm can be used as poison, so he'll definitely tell Mo Xi that I asked him for it."
Murong Chuyi considered this for a moment. "That's fine. I'll explain things to Xihe-jun myself. Think no further on it—just remember to tell no one else."
"What if Mo Xi asks me before you tell him?"
"You may respond with the truth."
"Okay," Gu Mang agreed. Still, he couldn't help but ask, "You're okay now, right?"
"I'm fine. The spiritual energy of Peach Blossom Lake is usually enough to suppress my symptoms. Today's episode was unexpected."
"Oh… But…Little White Bird and the others… They don't know about your sickness?"
"They know a little, but not much," Murong Chuyi replied blandly. "It's not a major issue—Yue Chenqing will inevitably ask a bunch of questions, and I don't want to deal with it. So I'm asking you to keep it a secret."
Murong Chuyi's story was full of holes, and his rationale behind the secret-keeping was so flimsy only a fool would believe it. But as things stood, Gu Mang was pretty much a fool; he swallowed it without question. He raised a hand and solemnly swore to Murong Chuyi that he'd never tell another soul.
By the time Gu Mang took his leave and returned to the manor, night was approaching. Li Wei stood in the doorway, scanning the horizon. When he saw Gu Mang return at last, evening light like a red cloak upon his shoulders, he rushed over in exasperation. "What's the matter with you? Were you catching fish or looking after them as pets? What kept you so long?"
Gu Mang took the basket from his back and showed it to Li Wei, smiling. "I caught five fat fish. There's still time—let me use the kitchen."
Gu Mang had never prepared fish in all the time he had lived at Xihe Manor, but he knew what to do. The scraps of memory he'd recovered included plenty of instances where he'd cooked fish. After he'd worked his way through those particular recollections, Gu Mang swiftly prepared several dishes and arranged them neatly in a box.
As he stepped out of the kitchen, he saw Li Wei waiting outside. "Is he still in the study?" Gu Mang asked.
"Yes, he went straight there as soon as court concluded and hasn't eaten a thing."
"Watch this," Gu Mang said, food box in hand. "Shidi-coaxing is my specialty."
"Wow…" Li Wei replied happily. But a second later, he realized Gu Mang's form of address wasn't right—he was being insubordinate again. He snorted in disapproval, but Gu Mang had already walked to the end of the corridor with the box of food.
A lantern glowed in silence, its oil pooling on the copper base plate. Mo Xi's sharp profile shone in its halo of light.
Although the northern frontier was stable for the moment, it wouldn't remain so. The armistice between the Liao Kingdom and Chonghua was a matter of necessity, not desire—the two nations had weakened each other through long conflict to the point that neighboring countries had begun to stir in action. If they continued waging a war of attrition, both would end up as easy prey for a third party. Thus, it was an armistice in name only; in truth, both countries remained at bitter odds, each eying the other to see who would recover first and most completely. The emperor had kept close watch over the Liao Kingdom's movements this year. The imperial report Mo Xi held was full of information gathered by Chonghua's spies, including intelligence on many demonic plants and objects from the Liao Kingdom. The contents were morbid, and Mo Xi's brow furrowed deeply as he read.
Just as he came to some detailed notes about the "Flower of Eightfold Sorrows" left behind by the demon race, the candle flame flickered. Gu Mang pushed open the door and strode right up to his desk. "Mo-shidi, it's time to eat."
After a pause, Mo Xi looked up. "You can leave it there. Also, you're not allowed to call me that. How many times have I told you? Why can't you remember?"
Gu Mang ignored him entirely. Reasoning with this person was useless; it was better to meet force with force. Feigning deafness, Gu Mang opened the food box and lifted the dishes out one by one.
Mo Xi frowned. "What are you doing now?"
"I'm not doing anything," Gu Mang said. "You read your books, and I'll eat my food. I'll just leave half for you."
Another pause. "You want to eat dinner with me?"
Gu Mang blinked at him. "Haven't we eaten together before?"
Mo Xi was silent. It was true that they had eaten at the same table in the great hall, but that was obviously different from sharing dishes from the same food box.
"Ah, it's not like I have much choice," Gu Mang said carelessly, mimicking how he spoke in his memories. "There's nothing tasty left in the kitchen, so I have to steal some of yours. Xihe-jun, have a little mercy—be magnanimous and share with me, okay?"
Mo Xi seemed rather stunned, so Gu Mang redoubled his efforts and added fuel to the fire. "Also, I personally cooked all the dishes here tonight. Aren't you worried I might have poisoned it? I'll humbly go first and be your taste-tester. That way you'll be able to properly enjoy your meal, your safety one hundred percent guaranteed."
Mo Xi stared at him. "What are you even talking about?"
Still, he let Gu Mang do as he pleased. Gu Mang cheerfully plunked the simple meal he'd made—four side dishes, plus soup—onto Mo Xi's spotless red sandalwood desk.
The dishes were still piping-hot, steaming and fragrant. Although they were uncomplicated stir-fries, nowhere near as sophisticated as the cook's usual handiwork, they smelled wonderful and looked bright and appealing. There was a dish of crystal pork terrine served with Zhenjiang vinegar and fresh-ground ginger; the meat was sliced very thinly, and the pork rind was soft and tender. Another plate held water caltrop and lotus root stir-fried with slices of celtuce, the delicate texture of the caltrop striking a refreshing harmony with the jade-green celtuce. There was also a dish of braised bamboo shoots, crisp and gleaming and generously coated with a glossy, savory sauce. In contrast, the soup was simple: a light and nourishing broth of three types of mushrooms, garnished with fresh greens and slivers of cured pork to add richness.
The final bamboo steamer lifted from the food box boasted a platter of sweet-and-sour perch. The fish had been sliced and prepared with a generous handful of julienned ginger to remove any odor. A splash of sizzling oil added a burst of flavor to the steamed fish, leaving the skin crisp-golden and the fat meltingly tender. The dish was finished with a drizzle of a sauce made with simmered sugar syrup and vinegar. At the touch of one's chopsticks, the rich, translucent flesh shimmered and trembled beneath a delectable veil of sweet-and-sour sauce…
"Yum." Gu Mang's chopsticks darted about in delight. He spoke aloud for the sake of Mo Xi, who was still reading with his eyes downcast. "All the fish belly's mine now," he proclaimed, and continued to apply himself to his meal.
As he reached to carve off the rest of the fish belly, which had the fewest bones and the most succulent flesh, Mo Xi finally couldn't stand it anymore. He shut the bamboo scroll as his fingers closed around Gu Mang's wrist.
"Whatcha doing?" Gu Mang asked, his cheeks bulging.
Mo Xi glared at Gu Mang as he wrested the chopsticks from his hand and grabbed a bowl of rice. He picked up the prized piece of fish and dropped it into his own bowl.
Secretly rejoicing, Gu Mang affected an exasperated expression. "Why d'you have to steal mine?!"
Mo Xi returned the chopsticks to Gu Mang with ill grace and grabbed his own pair. "What did you expect? Am I supposed to wait for you to finish, then gnaw on the bones?" With that, he took a vicious bite of fish.
Somehow, his white teeth and ferocious movements, coupled with this vaguely suggestive language, made Gu Mang shiver as he sat on the other side of the table.
To tear you apart, to drink your blood…
His domineering manner and forceful gaze made Gu Mang's head throb. Memories of the two of them pressed skin-to-skin flashed through his head, making his blood pulse so rapidly it sounded like a bow had snapped right next to his ear. As if his body was desperate to tell him that yes—there had been a time when this man, who looked so cool and aloof, had bared his teeth like a feral beast and possessed him entirely, devoured him whole…
Gu Mang stared at Mo Xi's handsome face, his gaze sweeping from the high bridge of his nose down to his pale yet sensual mouth. His heart skipped a beat, surprising even himself. The revelation roused a strangely disagreeable feeling in Gu Mang's chest. It was hot and uncomfortable, as if a pile of spent firewood had been kindled back to life, or a patch of new seedlings had been gently uncovered by the spring winds of April. He suddenly thought back to those memories from the night Mo Xi came of age. Mo Xi's lips had been pressed to his own—such a gentle touch, but it had left the old version of him shaking…
Mo Xi didn't notice the unusual glimmer in Gu Mang's gaze. Focused on eating his fish, he absentmindedly licked a bit of sauce from his lower lip.
Gu Mang's chest erupted with scalding heat; he was filled with an indescribable urgency and primal desire. For some reason, he wanted to inch closer and gently touch Mo Xi's cheeks, his mouth. He had no understanding of what this desire implied. He felt that this fire had sprung to life in his chest like an instinct, and only by acting on it could he soothe his own agitation.
Gu Mang swallowed and inched closer, like a cub sniffing for danger. Cautiously, he leaned in toward the wholly oblivious Mo Xi.