MO XI OPENED his eyes. Dark blue-green curtains patterned with clouds hung above his head. The bed-canopy fluttered gently in the wind, throwing dappled shadows across the hazy daylight coming in.
He was momentarily at a loss. Where was he?
Then he swiftly realized—he and Gu Mang had been sucked into the Time Mirror. This was the past that the ancient godly artifact had conjured. Although they hadn't truly traveled through time, the world within the mirror was an exact replica of reality. Mo Xi should be able to converse with the people of the past and even alter the course of events… So in that sense, there was little difference between truth and illusion.
Moreover, this must be a part of the past that Gu Mang found extremely painful. The knowledge made Mo Xi's heart race. He sat bolt upright, his inky hair dark as black jade falling loose around his shoulders as he yanked back the canopy.
He was in his own bedroom in Xihe Manor. Mo Xi looked around; the room's decor wasn't much different from his current one. The weapons rack was merely missing some blades, and a painting of Guangling peach blossoms still hung on the wall. He stepped over to the sundial placed by the windowsill. It was of Yue Manor make and glowed year-round with golden spiritual energy. With the tap of a finger, it showed the year and time of day. Mo Xi raised a hand and lightly pressed the sundial's glowing surface, and a small line of seal script appeared on the dial's face like ripples cascading outward.
Mo Xi looked at the date displayed on the sundial. The organ within his ribs beat more and more ferociously, his face growing more and more ashen.
As expected, it was that year.
As expected, they had returned to that particular time…
Mo Xi closed his eyes, his lashes fluttering. He swallowed.
He would never forget the events of this year—the year when Gu Mang had been stripped of his power and his rank in the wake of his great defeat at Phoenix Cry Mountain, when Lu Zhanxing had been beheaded, when the Wangba Army's surviving soldiers had been taken into custody.
It was the year Gu Mang defected.
And it was on this day that… Mo Xi's pale, slender fingers stroked the spotless sundial, caressing the text flowing over its surface. The pain in his heart crushed him like clouds smothering the sun; he could barely breathe.
On this day, he had been appointed to the northern frontier and left the capital. Gu Mang at the time had already had his fill of misery and passed his days grinning and giggling in a brothel. Mo Xi's attempts to persuade him were of no use; he could only wait for time to heal Gu Mang's wounds.
He had been so naive back then. He'd thought Gu Mang would pick himself up as he had in the past, that he'd persist through all the pain and suffering. He was so sure that such a day would come.
But he had been wrong.
Gu Mang didn't pull through. By the time Mo Xi completed his mission and returned to the capital, Gu Mang had already left Chonghua. A few months later, news came from the front lines that Gu Mang had committed treason and gone over to Liao.
He never noticed Gu Mang's change of heart. He never got the chance to understand how Gu Mang had felt, to have a proper conversation with him. He never even got to say more than a few words to Gu Mang or ask him to stay one last time before he stepped into hell.
But now Mo Xi had returned to this particular year, to this particular day. He had returned to the period he had dreamed of countless times, to… to this moment that, perhaps, could reverse destiny.
Despite knowing the Time Mirror couldn't actually change the past, Mo Xi's chest still burned as if scalded. He rushed out the door without even bothering about his appearance.
The bright sunlight from eight years ago shone fiercely onto his face, its piercing rays stinging his eyes. But he refused to close them. He fought back the urge to tear up as he gazed greedily at each plant and tree, each brick and stone.
From around the corner came a quiet exclamation of shock, swiftly followed by: "This one greets my lord!"
Mo Xi turned, and his heart churned strangely again—
Back then, Li Wei hadn't yet come into his employ. The one greeting him was a young servant girl named Shuang Qiu whom Xihe Manor had taken in. A pitiable beggar whom Mo Xi had seen on the streets, whom he took into his estate because he could not bear to see her disgraced by malicious men. He found her to be clever and intelligent, and had once considered appointing her head housekeeper of Xihe Manor. Shortly after, however, he discovered that she was a spy sent by Murong Lian with orders to seduce and sabotage him. He had expelled her from his residence.
Holding a water basin, Shuang Qiu bowed gracefully. "My lord woke up early from his nap today. I'll arrange for tea and snacks to be brought to you at once."
Back then, Mo Xi had been sympathetic of her predicament and was extremely courteous to her. But with what he knew now, he only felt a deep disgust. He swept his sleeves back. "There's no need."
"Does my lord not have an appetite? I brewed some refreshing plum wine a few days back, so if my lord is willing…"
"I said there is no need," Mo Xi stiffly said.
Shuang Qiu finally noticed there was something odd about Mo Xi. She didn't dare press the issue, so she conceded and made obeisance. "Yes," she murmured softly. After a pause, she persevered. "But I—I…was only acting out of care. I ask my lord not to blame me."
Mo Xi found her rather irritating, but he wasn't a vindictive person, nor did he care to argue with a woman. Besides, he had more important things to do. "Prepare a set of military robes. I need to go out."
"Does my lord mean to travel out of the city?"
Mo Xi paused. "I mean to enter the palace."
According to the remaining fragments of the ancient scrolls, those who entered the Time Mirror would return to their past self—their appearance, features, and thoughts would all be reconstructed. Mo Xi likely only retained his memories because he had been pulled into the mirror at Gu Mang's side. He wasn't the target but had entered by mistake.
As for Gu Mang… He had probably made a full return to his past state. He would have no idea that he had come in from outside the mirror, to say nothing of what would happen later.
Which meant that the person Mo Xi would encounter upon going into the city would be the General Gu from back then—that Gu-shixiong who had hit rock-bottom and was in the direst of straits.
Which meant he had a chance to talk to Gu Mang before he turned traitor.
Mo Xi's hands began to tremble at the thought—his current self had traveled through time and was about to meet Gu Mang from eight years ago. He could ask Gu Mang about so many things. He could get a clear look at Gu Mang's mental state before he defected. He could learn what kind of mood he was in and the details of what happened before he defected… He might even discover what, if anything, he could have done back then to prevent Gu Mang's treason.
This kind of experiment was of no practical use—as soon as Jiang Yexue rescued them from the mirror, any change he made would dissipate like smoke and clouds. Even so, Mo Xi could see himself on the cusp of receiving an answer to the questions, exhaustion, pain, and confusion that had plagued him for eight long years.
But before he could speak to Gu Mang, he needed to first visit the imperial palace.
"Xihe-jun!"
"This one salutes Xihe-jun!"
As he entered the palace, the imperial guards lowered their heads and crossed their arms to perform obeisance. The scarlet pheasant feathers on their helmets rustled, and their armor reflected the dazzling morning sun. It was an incredibly peculiar feeling: even though Mo Xi had much on his mind, he couldn't help taking note of some familiar faces.
In eight years, the soldier in the corner of the corridor would become a defense elder at the academy. The imperial guard standing to the right of the stone beast at the palace stairs was gifted to Wangshu Manor by the emperor and became Murong Lian's personal guard. The youth with seven beaded red tassels on his helmet eventually died rescuing civilians from a demonic inferno in Chonghua's capital. Mo Xi himself had bestowed the ribbon of heroes upon him in his coffin. There were also soldiers here whom Mo Xi had later picked to join the Northern Frontier Army.
Whether they were destined to rise or fall, live or die, in the years to come, none knew their fates at this moment. Only Mo Xi walked among these living men of the past, as if strolling through a dream he'd had year after year. Seeing those faces, Mo Xi seemed to look upon lost souls from eight years ago, so unreal and indistinct were they as he passed.
Finally, he arrived at the imperial throne room.
The newly ascended emperor reclined on dragon-embroidered pillows, his cheek pillowed in his hand as he closed his eyes in meditation. The beaded veil on his imperial crown swayed gently before his elegant features, fracturing the lines of his face and making his expression all the more inscrutable.
Compared to his current self, the emperor of eight years ago seemed a great deal thinner and surlier. It was little wonder—in the months after the late emperor passed, the nation had been unstable. The internal problems and external threats facing Chonghua were thorny and difficult to deal with. The irascible temper latent in the emperor's features had likewise been much closer to the surface back then.
This one greets Your Imperial Majesty."
"Oh, Xihe-jun's here." The emperor's eyelids fluttered open. His gaze was dark and cold as it alighted upon Mo Xi, who had come to stand before the throne. No matter how he tried to conceal it, that gaze betrayed a predatory air, containing vigilance, malice, and viciousness within its depths.
As this ice-cold look pierced Mo Xi, he felt a sense of familiarity. It was a feeling that brought him anger as well as pain. Back then, the emperor always betrayed this kind of attitude when speaking to him, whether intentionally or not. It was only after Mo Xi swore the Vow of Calamity, making it impossible for him to betray Chonghua or the power atop the throne, that the emperor gradually relaxed his guard around him.
But at this moment, the version of Mo Xi standing before the throne hadn't yet sworn this oath. When the emperor looked at Mo Xi, his eyes were those of a wild beast that had never been chained, like a ferocious wolf or tiger. Eight years ago, Mo Xi had been younger and his senses less keen; facing the emperor with the insight he had now, the wariness in that gaze made him feel a chill.
"Today, Xihe-jun should be setting out toward the fiefdom at the northern frontier, to teach and learn magic," the emperor drawled. "But you've come to the palace at this time to see us instead—could it be that there's some issue?"
Mo Xi performed an obeisance. "Yes. There is an issue. I would like to defer my departure for the northern frontier by a few days."
"Oh?" The emperor narrowed his eyes. "Why?"
"I'm feeling unwell."
No other excuse would work when dealing with this foxlike emperor. Only if Mo Xi said he was indisposed would His Imperial Majesty struggle to reject his request. Especially considering the fact that Mo Xi never lied back then—he always spoke the truth and never begged illness when he was well, so his words were entirely trustworthy.
As expected, the emperor was somewhat taken aback. After a moment, he sat up straight, eying Mo Xi from his high dais as he muttered, "Is that so… Is it severe? Why don't we select a skilled healer from Shennong Terrace and send them to Xihe Manor to examine you?"
"It's exhaustion and excessive dreams, no more, along with some difficulty sleeping," said Mo Xi. "I'll be better with a few days' rest. There's no need to trouble Shennong Terrace."
"I see." The emperor looked thoughtfully at Mo Xi, then asked with feigned carelessness, "How long does Xihe-jun propose to postpone for?"
Mo Xi had counted the days until Gu Mang would leave the city to defect: it should be a week after he himself left the capital. He didn't want the same thing to happen this time, with him away.
"Ten days."
The emperor didn't immediately respond. Those eyes like deep, icy pools silently watched Mo Xi's face. At length, he chuckled softly. "Xihejun's been on campaign for so many years. There have been many occasions where you didn't balk at donning your armor and heading back into battle after serious injury. How is it that you now want to postpone the assignment we've given you for ten whole days on account of a touch of insomnia? This is rather too long."
Mo Xi didn't argue with him. "If I could push through it, I wouldn't have come to Your Imperial Majesty to request a deferment."
"It's rare indeed for Xihe-jun to ask for rest after fighting so many battles. It would be unspeakably cruel of us to refuse." The emperor toyed with the string of beads encircling his wrist, speaking slowly. "But as Xihejun is an important subject of Chonghua, the heavy responsibilities we place on your shoulders are naturally numerous. If you were to delay for ten days to rest, we're afraid that later affairs would prove difficult to manage." He paused, smiling. "What do you think of a three-day postponement?"
Mo Xi fell silent. Three days? Lu Zhanxing was due to be beheaded at the eastern market in three days. Why was the emperor insisting on that day in particular? Gu Mang was sure to have an extreme reaction to Lu Zhanxing's death. Yet the emperor wanted him to leave on that day… "I would implore Your Imperial Majesty to grant an extension of a further two days," said Mo Xi. "Will five days be acceptable?"
"No. We can give you three days at most." The emperor offered him another small smile. "Any more and we would be hard-pressed to deal with the urgent matters afterward."
"Your Imperial Majesty…"
Decision made, the emperor cut Mo Xi off. "Xihe-jun needn't continue. Since you're feeling unwell, go back to Xihe Manor and rest." After a brief pause, he said meaningfully, "To combat insomnia and restlessness, one must soothe the mind. In the next few days, it would be best if Xihe-jun sees less of certain people who may make him frustrated and discontent."
Mo Xi gazed up at the ruler sitting on his gilt throne. The emperor peered down through his swaying bead crown.
"Does Your Imperial Majesty mean Gu Mang?" Mo Xi murmured.