MO XI HAD CUT right to the chase. The emperor didn't beat around the bush either; with a chuckle, he said, "As long as you take our meaning."
After a beat of silence, Mo Xi said, "Gu Mang is a true friend of mine. Now that he's fallen from grace, would it not be bitterly disappointing were I to discard him?"
"Mn. Of course, loyalty is an admirable thing. It's not as if we are suggesting you never see each other again." The emperor's slender fingers fiddled with the string of beads. "But he's a criminal now. Shouldn't Xihejun avoid associations that might create misunderstandings in such troubling times?"
"Those in the right fear no assumptions. I owe him. What's improper about me persuading him a little? Besides, in Gu Mang's current state, were he left alone, I'm afraid he would…"
"He would what?"
Mo Xi gritted his teeth. "Develop thoughts of treason."
Back then, he hadn't known Gu Mang's intentions. He'd never suspected that Gu Mang could defect. But with the clarity of hindsight, he spoke now to remind the emperor not to push Gu Mang too far.
The emperor's hands stilled. He smiled. "Is Xihe-jun so mistrustful of his own true friend?"
"I only ask that Your Imperial Majesty not leave him with no other choice."
"No other choice?" The emperor snorted audibly. "All of his choices were his to make because the late emperor deemed him an exception. Otherwise, what right would a slave-born man like him have to don armor, step onto the battlefield, and achieve success? You speak of us leaving him no other choice… Has he considered what kind of choices would be available to him if not for the late emperor's grace? Would he not be no more than Murong Lian's dog?"
Mo Xi said nothing.
The emperor narrowed his eyes dangerously. "If Gu Mang has even a sliver of self-awareness, he should see that all of his former glory was bestowed upon him by the late emperor. Now that he's led an army to rout, we merely punish him in accordance with the law. What has he to complain about?!"
Mo Xi had come to the palace to ask the emperor to postpone his departure—he hadn't expected to trigger a conversation like this. This past version of the emperor was like a fox spirit who hadn't yet achieved human form; he couldn't effectively hide his motives from the Mo Xi of eight years in the future. Nor could he mask the great wariness in his eyes when he looked at Mo Xi. "What grievance could he have? What injustice could he feel? What right does he have to think of treason?"
The cruelty of these words chilled Mo Xi's blood. He had never heard such sentiments direct from the emperor's mouth. As these words registered in his ears, he felt a deep disappointment, even as a born noble— so how would Gu Mang have felt? Gu Mang, who had lost countless soldiers and seen his surviving forces taken into custody, who was denied gravestones when he asked, who had a brother about to be beheaded.
Mo Xi suddenly understood: back then, when Gu Mang had dragged him out drinking and cried out, deep in his cups, that he couldn't bear it anymore, that he was living a life worse than death—that wasn't a drunken impulse. Gu Mang really had been broken. Chonghua had sent him onto the battlefield in their name, but not out of a belief that Gu Mang and his ragtag army were safeguarding Chonghua. Rather, they considered this an act of grace; they, the powerful nobles, had bestowed this honor upon a slave. Hence his defeat could not be forgiven; to the emperor, Gu Mang wasn't a devoted general who had suffered a momentary defeat, but a slave who had failed to carry out his master's orders after being rewarded. He had frittered away the trust his master had graciously conferred.
Perhaps, upon realizing this, Gu Mang's heart had shattered. Perhaps it had broken into pieces from the inside out, crumbling to ash. It was only that back then, Mo Xi hadn't known. He had believed, so naively, in Gu Mang's apparently thoughtless laughter.
He hadn't understood Gu Mang at all.
Enduring the stabbing pain and trembling of his heart, Mo Xi swallowed thickly. "Your Imperial Majesty, you are not him," he said hoarsely. "You don't know exactly how he thinks, nor where his limits lie. If there were to come a day when he really defected…"
The emperor cut him off. "He doesn't dare."
Mo Xi held his tongue. How comical it was, to stand in front of the emperor from eight years ago and hear him say, so self-assuredly, that Gu Mang would never defect.
"He doesn't dare to now, nor ever. Where does Xihe-jun imagine he could defect to? In the past, when Hua Po'an betrayed Chonghua and founded the Liao Kingdom, he had a following of slave soldiers—but what does Gu Mang have? What's left of his army has been detained and locked in prison. Why don't you tell us what you think he could do as just one man?"
"Your Imperial Majesty thinks he couldn't leave Chonghua far behind as just one man?" The emperor bared his teeth as he scoffed. "If he really can't get over himself, then he might as well go."
Mo Xi was stunned. "He's of no use to us after his defeat at Phoenix Cry Mountain. If he wishes to defect for this, then he will become a scourge sooner or later if he remains in Chonghua." The emperor stared into Mo Xi's gradually paling face. "Xihe-jun, do you think that persuading him or accompanying him is useful? If he intends to defect, it is because he wants too much!" An emperor's heart was the cruelest of all. He said coldly, "What he wants, we can't afford to give."
Mo Xi's blood froze in his veins, as if his body were covered in ice. His hands clenched into fists as he said in freezing tones, "Your Imperial Majesty. What he wants are only gravestones bearing his men's names, nothing more!"
"Not just gravestones," the emperor replied. "Xihe-jun, what he wants from us is acknowledgment of their status. My apologies—we can offer them lenience, but we cannot give them glory."
Furious, Mo Xi snapped, "So then why is Your Imperial Majesty set on sending me away in three days? That's the day of Lu Zhanxing's execution—does Your Imperial Majesty desire to see if Gu Mang can remain loyal to Chonghua and its ruler after having yet another of his bones broken?!"
The emperor's expression darkened at once. "Xihe-jun. Do not be impudent."
"He can't bear Your Imperial Majesty's testing." Mo Xi was beyond caring, nearly trembling as he spoke. "I swear this in front of the hall today. If Your Imperial Majesty insists on this, Gu Mang will defect."
The emperor suddenly rose like a sword unsheathed; he slammed a palm down on the table. "What does it matter if he defects or not?! He's nothing but a dog! If he bites the hand that fed him and moves against Chonghua, will our nation collapse? Will it dissolve?! We will determine if this person is hiding treacherous intent—if he's cut from the same rebellious cloth as Hua Po'an!"
This emperor was young indeed—such naked rage was not something the current emperor would ever reveal.
"Three days. Three days from now, you will leave the capital." The emperor's breathing gradually slowed, but his gaze remained hard as he stared into Mo Xi's face. "You are dismissed."
Mo Xi had never clashed so spectacularly with the emperor. This conversation flashed like the edge of a blade, stabbing at his heart. Silent, he gazed up at the man on the throne. It was said that a ruler could see past falsehood, but when did this emperor ever let down his guard and ease off testing his own subjects? Especially those of Gu Mang's class, who had ever been regarded separately from the nobles. As the saying went, "those not of my clan are not of my heart." This was why the emperor was so wary of Gu Mang and so calculating, to the point that…
Wait! Mo Xi's heart pounded as he recalled something else. Back then, Mo Xi had clearly known when Lu Zhanxing's execution would be.
Although he promised His Imperial Majesty to teach magic at the northern frontier, he had been set to return before Lu Zhanxing's beheading. In other words, if everything had gone according to plan, he absolutely would have had an opportunity to see Gu Mang one last time before he defected.
What had happened? The more he thought, the colder he grew…
There had been an incident on the northern frontier. Several monstrous beasts charged through the garrison, and he was forced to stay an extra few days quelling the invasion with the garrison troops. Back then, he had found it suspicious that so many monsters had descended upon them so suddenly yet hadn't given it much thought later. But now…
A hazy suspicion gave way to an even more horrifying idea. It was a thought that had never occurred to him before—
Back then, had the emperor purposely sent him away to test Gu Mang?
Mo Xi felt like a piece of ice had fallen into his chest, its insidious cold seeping into his bones. He was coming to a realization: his rushed departure, his delayed return—had this all been deliberately orchestrated by the emperor?
Perhaps the emperor had no intention of letting Gu Mang stay in Chonghua, which was why he wanted no one by Gu Mang's side during the days of his greatest pain and disappointment. This former slave general was no longer useful, and since the emperor couldn't find any suitable excuse to execute him, would it not be simply better to…force him to defect?
Could it be that the emperor had planned for Gu Mang's treason all along?
Mo Xi was so cold he was numb with it.
After taking leave of the imperial palace with its lofty eaves, Mo Xi worked for a long while to catch his breath so he could warm up a little. For a moment in the hall he had yearned to recklessly ask the question, to kick up a fuss—but he understood that if he wanted to uncover more secrets, he had to let the normal course of events unfold.
In this world within the mirror, he had one chance to unearth the truth. If he missed it, there wouldn't be another.
Mo Xi raised his head, blinking his slightly reddened eyes and doing his utmost to calm himself and rein in his impulses. Only when he had gathered himself did he continue toward the Apricot Mansion brothel in the north of the city. He knew he would find Gu Mang there—Apricot Mansion was Gu Mang's favorite pleasure house, filled with splendidly attired women and the harmonious trills of the sheng and the xiao. Gu Mang had once said with a smile how he adored the clever beauties there, that only their delicate charms could soothe the sea of suffering and hatred in his heart.
Mo Xi stopped before the brothel, which fluttered with red silks. He looked up at its wooden signboard, gold text on a red field. Eight years ago when he was leaving the capital, he had also passed by this building, fragrant with flowers, and stopped before it. But back then, he hadn't gone in. He couldn't endure Gu Mang's degenerate wasting, nor could he tolerate the sight of the man who had once shared his bed giggling amid a crowd of rouged and powdered women. The ache in his heart kept him from saying goodbye to Gu Mang before he left for the northern frontier. He missed his last chance to see Gu Mang before his defection.
But this time it would be different. This time, he wanted to have a sincere and genuine talk with Gu Mang. Just as he had imagined countless times, just as he had dreamed of night after night.
Mo Xi cleared his head, his nails sinking deep into his palms, and strode into the brothel filled with the chattering of women.
"Aiyo, Xihe-jun." The madam started at the sight of him. Remembering the last time Mo Xi came to the brothel to hunt down a particular man, she blurted fearfully, "What brings Xihe-jun here today?"
"Where's Gu Mang."
"General Gu…isn't—isn't here…"
"I know he's here." Mo Xi said, "Which room is he in?"
The madam shivered as she met his knife-like gaze. My apologies, General Gu, she thought to herself. This little shop is a shoestring business —we can't handle what Xihe-jun would put us through. She pulled on a greasy grin and forced a laugh. "Xihe-jun, what is my memory these days! Yes, yes, I recall now. General Gu is upstairs. Third floor, turn left at the end of the corridor. It'll be the third room—the Boudoir of Lingering Fragrance. Xihe-jun, please go ahead."
Mo Xi turned toward the stairs without a backward glance.
Before he even reached the door, Mo Xi could hear the fluid plucking of a pipa, as well as a singer's clear voice: "Our sons went forth with swords held brave, their blood and bones in distant grave. Last year this self was yet intact, last night this body spoke and laughed. Your loyalty I safely keep, your valiant deeds I freely speak. For when these heroes' souls come home, throughout the land shall peace be known."
It was Chonghua's soul-calling song.
The singer had clearly never performed such a weighty piece in a brothel. Though she sang without a single mistake, each faltering note betrayed her hesitation. A song used to console the dead played on the pipa like "Song of Courtship" —what a stark contrast in tone.
Mo Xi walked over and stopped by the red lacquer door, which stood ajar. The singer played the final phrase, the last echoes of those delicate notes fading, followed by the peals of Gu Mang's lazy laughter. Such a soft sound, but it made Mo Xi's heart stutter in his chest.
"Jiejie's voice is as sweet as a yellow oriole, but there's a section you played too quickly. The tune lost its shape."
"It's my first time singing this," the girl simpered. "I can't play it well—I've embarrassed myself in front of General Gu."
Gu Mang chuckled. "So what? In the vast country of Chonghua, you girls are the only ones willing to have fun with me these days and sing the soul song with me in secret… Come, I'll teach you how to play that part correctly."
"General Gu, do you know how to play the pipa too?"
"The fingering is too hard for me," Gu Mang said. "But I can play other instruments."
The room was silent for a moment. Then Gu Mang casually said, "Fengbo, come."
Fengbo… Mo Xi closed his eyes. His fingers, suspended before the door, trembled. Suddenly, the bright notes of a suona sounded, shrill and comical… It was almost ridiculous. Yet tears brimmed behind his lashes. This was the sound of the holy weapon Gu Mang later couldn't summon ever again—Fengbo, its cry full of unsung regrets.
Mo Xi felt a stubborn lump in his throat. He couldn't speak for a long beat, filled with the anxiety of a traveler who feared returning home as much as he yearned for it. In the end, he heaved a deep sigh, and, enduring his dizziness, reached out to gently push open the red lacquer door.
Sunlight poured in. In this dreamlike chiaroscuro, he saw Gu Mang. Gu Mang from eight years ago.
Despite all Mo Xi had done to ready himself, the sight of this man felt like an unseen dagger tearing through his old scar. The agony spread from his heart to his limbs, a pain that made him tremble and go numb.
He saw Gu Mang once more—clear-headed, black-eyed, wearing the robes of Chonghua. Whole, healthy, not yet a traitor, bearing in his unbroken mind their shared memories…
General Gu of the empire.
His Gu-shixiong.