THERE WAS NO ONE ELSE around. Mo Ran pulled Chu Wanning into a tiny alleyway behind Mengpo Hall, so narrow hardly any space remained with him and Mo Ran squeezed into it.
Chu Wanning glared at him, peach in hand.
Perhaps Mo Ran's long repression had finally stirred this red- blooded man to action; his chest heaved as he stared, eyes shining, at Chu Wanning. Then he reached out and pulled him into his arms.
"My peach!"
Too late. That plump and juicy fruit fell from his fingers and rolled to a stop in a corner.
"Shizun." Mo Ran's blazing breath brushed Chu Wanning's ear. Despite the tortuous fervor of his words, his tone was clear. There was restraint within that scalding heat; his voice had been burnt to a crisp by the fires of lust, yet he kept himself from taking further liberties. He only held him, tight to his chest, voice a rasp. "It hurts."
Chu Wanning's eyes widened. "What's wrong? Where does it hurt?"
Mo Ran stared, then burst into laughter. Before Chu Wanning's
hand could lift to his forehead and check his temperature, Mo Ran grabbed it and brought it to his lips for a kiss.
Frowning, Chu Wanning pressed him. "If you're sick, go see the Tanlang Elder."
"It's no use seeing wintertime pickles," Mo Ran said in exasperation. "Only a little napa cabbage will do."
Finally Chu Wanning realized what was going on. He snapped, "Who are you calling a cabbage?"
"Sorry, sorry." Mo Ran grinned. Pausing, he turned those bright black eyes back on Chu Wanning. "But Shizun, I've missed you so much."
Cradled like this, gazing into those eyes, the fury of being named a little napa cabbage had no ready outlet—it could only express itself as a flush at the tips of his ears. After a long beat, Chu Wanning pointed out, "We just ate dinner together."
"That doesn't count." A pause.
"Shizun, I just want to spend more time with you. Every time you
finish your meal, you walk away into the crowd; I can't even touch you…" There was a faint note of hurt in his voice. "Stay with me a little longer.
Don't go."
Flustered, Chu Wanning's cheeks burned hotter the longer Mo Ran spoke. Mo Ran's scent was so distinct, so masculine, so overwhelming. In that tight embrace, Chu Wanning couldn't muster a single word.
"Shizun," Mo Ran murmured, "let me hold you a while longer…"
Their paths did not naturally cross often on Sisheng Peak. Visits from the other great sects grew ever more frequent, and Xue Zhengyong often pulled Chu Wanning aside to discuss strategy, further cutting into their time together. Even in the hard-won moments when they could sit close and eat, there was still the bustling crowd around them, the fear that a sharp-eyed disciple would notice something if they slipped. They had barely gotten a chance to hold hands since the confession. Mo Ran had endured this state of things for too long; it was little wonder he could bear it no longer.
As night descended, the crowds leaving Mengpo Hall became denser. A group of giggling female cultivators walked past the alleyway and ran across some of the Xuanji Elder's firelight mice. Those little mice with tiny dots of spiritual fire on their tails squeaked as they skittered every which way, sending the whole group into gales of laughter.
Chu Wanning grew uneasy amidst the noise and gave Mo Ran a push. "Let's go."
"Just a bit longer…"
"People will be coming soon. Go."
Despite everything, Chu Wanning was still an ascetic cultivator.
Unless some great liberties were taken, he wouldn't succumb even if flustered. Mo Ran sighed and released him.
Chu Wanning stepped out of the dimness of the narrow alley, then turned back to look at him. "What are you still doing in there?"
Mo Ran cleared his throat, somewhat abashed. "Shizun, you go on ahead. I'll wait here for a minute."
This puzzled Chu Wanning—but his next words were forestalled by the flush on Mo Ran's handsome, golden face. His dark eyes were glittering, like stars twinkling nervously in the night sky. Understanding dawned, and Chu Wanning reflexively glanced downward. As his gaze landed upon a certain area, his ears rang, and his cheeks went scarlet as if stung by a scorpion. "You're… You're really…" He couldn't seem to finish the sentence. With a flick of his sleeves, he turned and left in a huff, metaphorical smoke pouring out of his ears.
A dozen days thus slipped by evasively. Even if this wolf named Mo Ran had been made gentle, the bloodthirstiness in his bones thickened with the passage of time, like the looming sense of an oncoming storm. Every day during the morning practice and the evening greeting, he stared up at where the Yuheng Elder stood on the high platform, eyes filled with an undisguised hunger that grew more rapacious by the day. When someone was so deeply infatuated, even if they concentrated every speck of their energy on hiding their love, it would prove impossible.
At such times, when Xue Meng inadvertently caught sight of Mo Ran's eyes, he jumped in surprise. He looked at Mo Ran, then at Chu Wanning. The naïve little phoenix couldn't begin to imagine the reality of what had happened, and so grew more and more confused. What the emotion flashing in Mo Ran's eyes was, he had no idea. He only knew that he felt discomfited, yet he couldn't say how or why.
One day while they were alone during morning practice, Xue Meng caught Mo Ran's attention. He lowered his voice and said, "Hey, I have a question."
"What is it?"
"Is Shizun sick?"
Mo Ran started. "Why do you ask? Is something wrong with Shizun? Why don't I know about it?"
"You don't?" Xue Meng rubbed his chin. "Weird. Why are you looking at him like that then? Always with that same concerned look on your face."
At Xue Meng's description, Mo Ran finally understood. Clearing his throat, he lowered his lashes and said, "What are you talking about? Don't jinx Shizun."
"I wasn't." After a pause, Xue Meng continued in a mumble, "Then why are you always staring at him?"
"I'm not."
"I'm not blind." "Yes, you are."
"I'm blind? Then you're a dog!"
Hearing these two grown men break into squabbling, Chu Wanning cast his cool gaze down from the platform. Xue Meng and Mo Ran clamped their lips shut. Lowering their heads, they went back to transcribing the herbal medicine scrolls in their hands, still elbowing each other under the table.
After shoving back and forth, Mo Ran pulled his hand away without warning. Xue Meng had been exerting too much force; at the sudden loss of resistance, he fell right on top of Mo Ran with an audible smack.
Mo Ran burst into laughter, slapping his thigh. Heedless of their surroundings, Xue Meng roared, "Are you serious?! You tricked me!"
"Mo Weiyu, Xue Ziming." Vexed, Chu Wanning looked up, phoenix eyes narrow and brow furrowed, to see his disciples once again embarrassing him. "If you're going to fight, do it outside. Don't disrupt everyone else."
"Yes, Shizun." Mo Ran instantly sat up straight.
Xue Meng also reluctantly shut his mouth, but his feathers were ruffled. Humiliated by his earlier tumble, he pondered a moment, then tore off a small piece of paper, wrote a few large words on it, crumpled it into a ball, and threw it onto Mo Ran's desk.
Unfortunately, it flew too far. A fair and slender hand plucked the wad of paper from where it had landed on the open pages of his book.
Perplexed, Shi Mei unfolded it and glanced at its contents:
You were staring! What are you planning? Are you trying to get Shizun to teach you his personal meditation techniques?!
Beneath that was a drawing of a dog, crossed out in heavy strokes of ink.
Shi Mei was left truly speechless.
When the disciples had dispersed after morning practice, Xue Zhengyong sought out Chu Wanning with the most recent news from Linyi. The apocalyptic fire had left the land uninhabitable for at least the next five years. The refugees they had brought from the upper cultivation realm couldn't return; they needed to be settled in villages within Sisheng Peak's jurisdiction.
"I've already started making arrangements for the people I brought back in Wuchang Town, Fenghe Town, and Baishui Village," said Xue Zhengyong. "For those who came with you and A-Ran…Wuchang Town doesn't have room for them all. Why don't we bring half to Yuliang Village? They need more young'uns, after all."
"Yuliang Village will be suitable," said Chu Wanning.
Xue Zhengyong nodded. "Yuliang isn't too far, but you guys should head over sooner rather than later—there are quite a few to settle. Meng-er isn't good with domestic affairs like these; I'll send Shi Mei with you.
He'll be able to help."
After a moment's hesitation, Chu Wanning said, "Okay."
Chu Wanning and Mo Ran were more or less old friends to the inhabitants of Yuliang Village. The village head had received Xue Zhengyong's missive two days ago, and was up at the village entrance bright and early to await the three xianjun from Sisheng Peak. Miss Ling- er was there as well. It'd been a while since they'd last met, and she'd grown prettier in the interim. The instant she caught sight of Mo Ran, she hurried up to greet him.
Mo Ran smiled, somewhat surprised. "Miss, you didn't go to the upper cultivation realm?"
"No, and thank goodness I didn't. If I'd gone to Linyi, I might've lost my life as well." Ling-er laid a hand over her full bosom in apprehension. "I'll stay right here in the lower cultivation realm. The village's been getting better and better these days, anyway… All of us used to hope we could move to the upper cultivation realm someday—this is the first time they're coming here. I'm not going anymore, no way."
"That's right." Someone else chimed in to agree. "Times are always changing, after all. With Xue-zunzhu at Sisheng Peak, in a few decades, it's possible the people from the upper cultivation realm will all wish to come here instead."
"The lower cultivation realm has toiled for centuries," Shi Mei replied gently. "As they say, every lake has its shore. It can't be all suffering for us—we're due some good days."
He began to unpack the herbal salve Madam Wang had sent with him. Mo Ran grabbed one for a closer look. Noticing the snake emblem of Guyueye on top, he exclaimed, "This is…one of Hanlin the Sage's ointments?"
"Mn, Jiang-zhangmen had it delivered a few days back." "Jiang Xi is a better gift-giver than Huohuang Pavilion," Chu
Wanning commented. "Sichuan is rife with demons and monsters, and spiritual medicines are always in short supply. The sect leader was delighted to accept."
"Is that so?" Mo Ran mumbled. "They're all medicines crafted by Hanlin the Sage to boot. It's barely exaggerating to say his remedies could bring back the dead. Ah…" His voice trailed off as the second half of the sentence remained unsaid: Ah, Jiang Xi is so rich.
Years ago at Xuanyuan Pavilion, Chu Wanning had spent two million, five hundred thousand gold on but a few bottles of Tapir Fragrance Dew—only for Sect Leader Jiang to now send them an entire carriage's worth of medicine with a wave of his hand.
Mo Ran put the jar back in the bag without a word and sighed inwardly. Rufeng Sect had fallen, but Guyueye was next in line to fill their shoes. Sisheng Peak wasn't even under consideration. It would likely be a few more centuries before the lower cultivation realm could rise to such heights.
By dusk after a busy day, room and board for the Linyi refugees were finally in good order, and the rooms had been cleaned and tidied for their new occupants. The trio from Sisheng Peak prepared to depart. The village chief, however, insisted they stay for dinner, an invitation they couldn't possibly refuse under the circumstances. They followed him politely to the ancestral hall of Yuliang Village.
The hall was the site of all important events in the village— weddings and funerals, as well as New Year's Eve dinner and the performances during the Lantern Festival, were held here or in the large courtyard outside. Today, the villagers had set up more than thirty feast tables and made elaborate dinner preparations to welcome the villagers from the upper cultivation realm. The village chief even recalled Chu Wanning's sensitivity to spice and specifically arranged a table full of lighter dishes for the Yuheng Elder and any Linyi residents with similar tastes.
Mo Ran and Chu Wanning had saved the lives of everyone at the table. But although the Linyi commoners had become familiar with this ice-cold cultivator on Flying Flower Isle, that didn't mean they were comfortable sitting down to dinner with him. Etiquette demanded they stay in their assigned seats, making for a tremendously awkward meal. While laughter and wine flowed at the other tables, everyone at theirs kept their heads down, chopsticks moving in silence.
Mo Ran was a skilled cook and had gone to the kitchen to lend a hand. He didn't join the diners at the tables until the last dish was brought out, his honey-gold face gleaming with sweat from the cookfires. With his shining eyes and regally sloped nose, his handsomeness made him conspicuous amidst the crowd.
"Soup buns!" called the cook, hefting her platter stacked high with bamboo steamers. "One for every table, one for every table, twelve buns in each! Six with pork and shepherd's purse filling and six with pork and mushroom! Eat 'em while they're hot!"
Grinning, Mo Ran helped her pass out steamers to each table. "Thank you, Mo-xianjun!"
"Thank you, Xianjun!"
The children more familiar with Mo Ran piped up with, "Thank you, Weiyu-gege!"
Ling-er's eyes followed his figure, unable to look away. Even if she knew he didn't like her and never would, she couldn't help watching him hungrily. Hmph. Looking was free of charge. "Thank you, Mo-xianjun," she cooed when the steamer arrived at her table, syllables soft between vermilion lips.
Mo Ran beamed at her without any hint of flirtation in his gaze. His frank regard conversely embarrassed the girl, and she swiftly cast her eyes downward.
Two tables remained: Chu Wanning's and Shi Mei's. Due to their differing tastes, they hadn't sat together. Mo Ran brought a steamer to Chu Wanning's table first. Chu Wanning frowned as he received it. "Stop running around—the food's getting cold."
When Mo Ran arrived at Shi Mei's table, Shi Mei smiled. "A-Ran is so skilled. Thank you."
"Ha ha, not at all. I was only helping the cook."
Duty done, Mo Ran turned from the table. Shi Mei thought he was going to get himself a bowl, so he made space for Mo Ran on the bench. "Why don't you sit here?" he called to Mo Ran. "I asked for an extra bowl earlier; you don't need to grab another."
Mo Ran stared at him for a moment, then smiled and scratched his head. "I'm going to sit with Shizun."
Shi Mei blinked. "When did you stop eating spicy food? That's the table for mild food only."
"I quit."
Shi Mei fell silent, pupils shadowed, then suddenly smiled. "I've heard of quitting alcohol or smoking, but never spice."
"To be honest, I can't really call it quitting. After not eating it for a while, I just don't have the taste for it anymore." Mo Ran hurried away toward the kitchen with a smile and a hasty wave. "I'm off to grab a bowl. You'd better stay there and eat—the soup buns are getting cold!"