Chapter 191: Shizun, Xue Meng, and I…

 

     In this world, the most important person to Mo Ran, apart from Chu Wanning, was Shi Mei.

     Mo Ran once thought that it was love that he felt for Shi Mei. Although he later realized that wasn’t the case, he still cherished him and treated him well.

     Even though Shi Mei had gradually become a stranger to him; even though that tall and charming man felt like a different person; even though that bowl of wontons was only brought by Shi Mei on Chu Wanning’s behalf…

     Even so, Shi Mingjing was still the same Shi Mingjing from back then. He was the companion who smiled and reached out to him in the darkness. He was the shige who accompanied him and was willing to give him comfort.

     Thinking about it, Shi Mei was also an orphan. He didn’t have a single relative in this world. And although Xue Meng was also close to Shi Mei, he was also proud and arrogant; after so many years, Shi Mei had never called him by his name. Instead, he respectfully called him young master. The only person Shi Mei could truly call “friend” was most likely himself.

     In the end, he had also hurt his heart.

     Xue Meng was still hiding in the bamboo forest. He crossed his arms and watched for a long time. He saw Mo Ran standing there motionlessly, playing with the silver hair comb as if he had something on his mind. After waiting for almost an hour and seeing no signs of movement, Xue Meng started to feel like an idiot.

     What was he thinking? Why did he think there was some kind of relationship between Shizun and Mo Ran? Was his brain damaged? The more he thought about it, the more baffled he became.

     After standing there for a while longer, Xue Meng turned around to leave. But they were indeed fellow disciples; he and Mo Ran made the same mistake.

     He forgot to control his footsteps.

     Mo Ran stood up and said in a low voice through the veil, “Who’s there?”

     “...”

     Under the moonlight, Xue Meng reluctantly walked out of the bamboo forest, awkward and flustered. He coughed softly and averted his eyes to avoid Mo Ran’s gaze.

     Mo Ran was stunned for a moment, “What are you doing here?”

     “Officials are allowed to set fires, but the common people aren’t allowed to light lamps?” Xue Meng didn’t dare to meet Mo Ran’s eyes. His gaze was fleeting, and although he sounded reasonable and calm, his face was red, “I also just wanted to see Shizun.”

     Mo Ran’s heart stirred as he vaguely understood the possibility of Xue Meng following him. He couldn’t help but freeze, but he quickly fixed his expression and regained his composure before Xue Meng realized it.

     “Since you’re here, why don’t you sit for a while?”

     Surprisingly, Xue Meng didn’t refuse, and instead followed him into the bamboo pavilion.

     Mo Ran asked, “Do you want tea, or wine?”

     “Tea,” Xue Meng said. “You’ll get drunk if you drink.”

     There was wine and tea on the table, and a small clay stove by Mo Ran. The flames lit up in the night, illuminating his features. He put the Eight Treasures Tea on the stove, and the two brothers waited for the water to boil, one sitting on a bench in the bamboo pavilion and the other leaning against a pillar.

     Xue Meng asked him, “Why are you here so early? Shi Mei should have been on duty for another half a night.”

     “I had nothing to do, so I came over.” Mo Ran laughed, “Isn’t it the same for you?”

     Xue Meng thought about it for a moment, deciding that it seemed to be true. Mo Ran should be the same as him, just concerned about his Shizun. After the battle of the Heavenly Rift, Mo Ran had gradually changed, and now that many years had passed, he was a very different person from that arrogant young boy from back then.

     The disciple that Chu Wanning had saved with his life had finally grown into a righteous man.

     Lowering his eyelashes, Xue Meng pondered for a moment before suddenly smiling.

     Mo Ran asked, “What is it?”

     “Nothing,” Xue Meng said. “I just remembered the last time he went into seclusion. At that time, you still didn’t accept Shizun. During the ten full days, you only came to see him once, then said you weren’t capable enough to serve him and ran over to my dad to organize the books. Back then, I was still angry at you. I didn’t expect that after seven years, you would become like this.”

     Mo Ran was quiet for a moment, then said, “People change.”

     Xue Meng asked, “If you had another chance and were able to go back to seven years ago, would you still run away?”

     “What would you do?”

     Xue Meng seriously pondered this question, then said, “I’m afraid I would want to spend ten days and ten nights by Shizun’s side.”

     Mo Ran lowered his eyes and laughed.

     “Hmph, what are you laughing at?” Xue Meng shifted his body, propping one leg up on the bamboo pavilion bench. His elbow rested leisurely against the bench, his head and neck tilted back slightly as his gaze moved to the corners of his eyes to look at his cousin, “Right now, you and I both have the same feelings for Shizun. Your answer shouldn’t be too far off from mine.”

     Mo Ran lowered his eyes, “Mm.”

     Xue Meng’s eyes widened, then he looked towards the wind chimes in the corner of the pavilion, “That’s good. When Shizun died, I resented him for trading his life for yours. But today, it seems that you’re not completely heartless.”

     Mo Ran didn’t know what to say, so he only gave another, “Mm.”

     The chimes jingled, clinking in the wind.

     After a few moments of silence, Xue Meng couldn’t help but turn his head, his gaze burning and his brows slightly furrowed. He suddenly coughed awkwardly and said, “Actually, there’s something I want to ask you.”

     “Go ahead.”

     “Tell me the truth. That day at the back mountain, you guys…”

     Mo Ran actually already knew that Xue Meng had been wanting to ask this question. Even after so many twists and turns, he still couldn’t escape.

     He waited for him to continue, but Xue Meng stammered for a long time; his face went red, then white, red, then white again. In the end, he still couldn’t say those words. He just stared at Mo Ran and said, “Were you really… looking for an osmanthus rice cake monster?”

     The water started boiling, and wisps of steam rose and faded away in the cold night.

     Their eyes met. Xue Meng’s eyes were full of anxiety, flickering with the flames. Mo Ran’s eyes were devoid of any emotion, and so dark and deep that no one could see through them.

     “We can drink the tea now.”

     Xue Meng suddenly grabbed his arm and glared at him harshly, “Were you guys really looking for an osmanthus rice cake monster?!”

     “...”

     Mo Ran paused for a moment, then broke free from his grasp. He went to the stove to pick up the pitch-black cast iron pot, filling a cup for each of them. Only then did he lift his eyes and say, “If we weren’t looking for the osmanthus rice cake monster, what else could we be doing?”

    “You—”

     “Shizun wouldn’t deceive you so easily. If you don’t believe me, you should trust him.”

     Xue Meng was like a little snake who had been pinched in its weak spot. The hand on his knee spasmed slightly as he suddenly lowered his head and said, “It’s not that I don’t believe him…”

     “Tea it is then.” Mo Ran sighed, “Just what are you thinking about all day long? It’s all nonsense.”

     He lowered his head and blew on the steaming hot tea. In the dense steam, his face appeared handsome, yet also somewhat blurry. It was like a reflection of the moon in the water, making people unable to see him clearly.

     The Eight Treasures Tea was warm, and the taste was savory and mellow. Xue Meng took a few sips, feeling the bubbling heat calm his frenzied heartbeat. He finished the tea, but the warmth still lingered.

     He lowered his head, staring blankly, as if he was talking to Mo Ran, but also as if he was talking to himself, “I really care about him too much, that’s why I think so much. Even the slightest movement and I…”

     “I know,” Mo Ran said. “I feel the same.”

     Xue Meng turned his face and looked at him.

     Mo Ran leaned against the pillar, his unfinished cup of tea still in his hand. He took another sip and said, “Just now, because of this, I misunderstood Shi Mei. At least you’re better than me. You’re not so impulsive.”

     Xue Meng was slightly surprised, “No wonder he left after just a few words. What did you misunderstand about him?”

     “...Let’s not talk about it.” Mo Ran laughed bitterly, “I can think even more nonsense than you.”

     Xue Meng wrinkled his nose, “He’s a pitiful person. During the famine, people would easily become food for others. If not for father saving him, he would have been the meat to a hungry people. Shi Mei has always been good to you, don’t bully him.”

     Mo Ran replied, “Yes, I know. I was just too impulsive before. I won’t do it again.”

     The two of them stood guard in the pavilion, chatting with each other calmly and easily.

     This feeling was very strange. Under the moonlight, Mo Ran looked at Xue Meng’s handsome, somewhat naturally arrogant face; this was the same person who had cut a hole in his chest in his previous life, and whose every subsequent meeting had been accompanied by tears and blood.

     He never would have thought that they would ever be able to talk in such a peaceful manner—under the moon in the lotus pond, brewing tea and wine…

     Yes, wine.

     After the tea was finished, Xue Meng didn’t plan to leave.

     Mo Ran heated up a pot of wine and drank a few cups. As long as he didn’t get drunk, it was fine.

     But he seemed to have overestimated Xue Meng’s alcohol tolerance.

     Among the four of them, master and disciples, Chu Wanning was the only one who didn’t get drunk even after a thousand cups.

     While his own tolerance was quite good, Shi Mei’s was very poor. But the most hopeless one was Xue Meng. After just two cups of pear blossom white, he was already a bit dizzy, and spoke with a lisp. Mo Ran was worried that he would cause trouble, so he quickly put away the wine and didn’t let him drink any more.

     Although Xue Meng’s thoughts were muddled, he hadn’t completely lost it. He was still conscious, and he clearly understood the situation. His face was bright red as he smiled and said, “It’s good that you put it away. I… I can’t drink anymore.”

     “Yes,” Mo Ran said. “Go back and rest. Can you walk by yourself? If not, I’ll send a message for uncle to come over.”

     “Oh, no need for him to come over, he doesn’t need to come over.” Xue Meng smiled and waved his hand, “I can walk by myself, I know the way.”

     Mo Ran was still worried, so he put a finger in front of him, “How many is this?”

     “One.”

     He then pointed to Chu Wanning, “Who is this?”

     Xue Meng smiled, “Immortal-gege.”

     “...Speak properly.”

     “Haha, Shizun, I recognize you.” Xue Meng hugged the pillar and laughed.

     Mo Ran frowned and cursed Xue Meng. Why was this guy’s alcohol tolerance getting worse and worse every year?

     He pointed to himself and asked, “Then what about me? Look carefully, don’t joke around. Who am I?”

     Xue Meng was stunned for a moment.

     Time seemed to overlap with the past. Back then, at Mengpo Hall on New Year’s Eve, Xue Meng was also drunk. He recognized Shi Mei, said that Chu Wanning was “Immortal-gege,” then looked at Mo Ran and laughed, saying he was a dog.

     Mo Ran looked at him calmly, preparing to secretly beat Xue Meng up if he said the word dog again. Then, he would call Xue Zhengyong to come and take the little drunkard back.

     But Xue Meng just stared at him blankly for a while. He didn’t know what kind of strange expression he had on his face, but in the end, he opened his mouth and pouted slightly, as if to pronounce the word dog.

     Mo Ran moved to reach out and cover his mouth.

     “Ge…”

     Before he could even raise his hand all the way, he froze. Xue Meng stared at him with hazy eyes. Then, slowly, quietly, he called out, “Ge.”

     Mo Ran was stunned for a moment. It was as if he had been stung by a bee. The stinging pain spread into a sharp pain, and the sharp pain became numb with the poison. His throat was blocked, and he couldn’t say a single word. He could only stare blankly at Xue Meng’s face—his young, arrogant, and proud features.

     On this face, Mo Ran was used to seeing hatred, anger, and contempt. But he had never seen the look on his face at this moment.

     Xue Meng fiddled with the Longcheng saber at his waist. This saber was the very same one he’d helped refine. Mo Ran had defeated a fierce beast and seized the top-grade spiritual stone, sending it over to be embedded in his blade.

     Without this saber, perhaps he wouldn’t have been able to take first place in the Spiritual Mountain Competition. Without this saber, perhaps he would have been reduced to a nameless cultivator, bringing shame to Xue Zhengyong’s name.

     When he was sober, for one reason or another, and out of pride and face, he had never properly said a word of thanks to Mo Ran. But in reality, he was very troubled; every day he would shine Longcheng with mixed emotions.

     Especially after returning from Rufeng Sect and learning that it was Mo Ran who rescued him from Xu Shuanglin, Xue Meng was even more tormented. When he woke up and heard that Mo Ran and Chu Wanning were still missing, he cried bitterly in agony.

     Everyone thought he was only crying for his Shizun, but only Xue Meng himself knew the truth. That night, as he lay on his sickbed hugging Longcheng, he gazed into the darkness and cried hoarsely.

     “Ge, I’m sorry.”

     Where are you? …Are you and Shizun… Are you alright…?

     Mo Ran couldn’t speak, couldn't even move his feet. It was as if his entire body was frozen, and he just stood there motionlessly.

     Yesterday’s events passed by like water in a blur. All sorts of emotions flashed rapidly before his eyes.

     He thought of his previous life on Sisheng Peak, when Xue Meng had gone up the mountain alone, standing in the desolate Wushan Palace. His eyes were red as he asked for Chu Wanning’s whereabouts.

     Xue Meng had said, “Mo Weiyu, look back.”

     He thought of how Xue Meng and Mei Hanxue had ambushed him in an assassination attempt after he became Emperor Taxian-Jun—Mei Hanxue blocking his path in broad daylight, Xue Meng shouting in rage, his face twisted as his saber stabbed into his chest, spilling his blood in streams.

     Xue Meng had said, “Mo Weiyu, no one can save you. There is no place for you in this world!”

     He thought of all the grudges, the hatred, the rage.

     He thought of the day Chu Wanning died in this life. Xue Meng had leapt up and roared as he pinned him against the wall. His veins bulged, and he growled like a trapped beast, “How can you say he didn’t save you…? How can you say he didn’t save you?!”

     Suddenly, a thought flashed through his mind and a faint light seemed to shine in front of his eyes. Perhaps it was because Mo Ran had stood so stiffly for too long—long enough to remind him of the earliest, most vague memories.

      He seemed to see two teenagers, one thin and terribly frightened, cowering in fear like an abandoned dog used to being whipped. He crouched uneasily in front of the small table in the disciple’s room, squatting on the bench. His small hands were tightly clenched in his lap, motionless. That was himself.

     There was also another boy, with a face as white as snow, proud and adorable, like a peacock with bright, dazzling feathers. He stood with a beautiful scimitar at his waist, one foot on a chair, looking at him with dark, round eyes without blinking.

     “My mother asked me to come and see you.” The young Xue Meng snorted, “I heard you’re my cousin? …You look so shabby.”

     Mo Ran didn’t say a word, and lowered his head. He wasn’t used to being scrutinized like this.

     Xue Meng asked, “Hey, what’s your name? Mo… That Mo… what? Tell me, I don’t remember.”

     “...”

     “I’m asking you a question, why aren’t you saying anything?”

     “...”

     “Are you mute?!”

     After the third try, Xue Meng was so angry that he started laughing, “Everyone says you’re my cousin, but you’re so timid and skinny that you’ll run away when the wind blows. How could I have such an embarrassing elder brother? What a joke.”

     Mo Ran lowered his head and was even more unwilling to talk to him.

     Just like that, there was silence.

     Suddenly, a bright flash of red appeared before his eyes. The person who passed it to him was too rough, almost poking the tip of his nose. Mo Ran was dumbfounded for a moment before he realized that it was a stick of candy.

     “It’s for you,” Xue Meng said. “I can’t eat it anyway.”

     He also brought a box of pastries and casually threw it on the table as if he was providing charity. But as Mo Ran stared at it, he only felt that he was very generous. No one had ever been willing to give him so much before, not even when he begged on his knees.

     “I… This… this…”

     “What?” Xue Meng frowned, “What do you mean ‘I, this?’ What do you want to say?”

     “I can eat all this?”

     “Ah?”

     “Actually, just one is more than enough… If you can’t eat it, then I’ll—”

     “Are you crazy? Eating other people’s leftovers, are you a dog?!” Xue Meng’s eyes widened in disbelief, “Of course it’s all yours! This whole stick, this whole box, it’s all yours!”

     The lacquered wooden box of pastries was exquisitely made, with red-crowned cranes and clouds painted in gold, a style of grandeur that Mo Ran had never seen before.

     He didn’t dare to reach out his hand, but his black eyes kept staring at the box, making Xue Meng feel a little uneasy. In the end, Xue Meng raised his hand and opened the box for him. The rich fragrance of milk, fruit, red bean paste, and the mixed flavors of the pastries filled the air. There were nine pastries in total; some were golden and crisp, some were pink and tender, and others were small and fragile.

     The young Xue Meng didn’t even look at them, and pushed the whole box in front of him. He said impatiently, “Hurry up and eat. If it’s not enough, I still have more. I can’t finish it all, so I’ll just give it to you.”

      This young master had quite the attitude. His tone was bad, and he was rude. His round eyes were turned upwards, as if he was looking down on everyone with contempt.

     But the snacks given to him were sweet and soft.

     After two lifetimes of bitterness and blood, the slightest bit of sweetness seemed to have returned to the tip of his tongue. Mo Ran looked at Xue Meng’s drunken face in the moonlight, and Xue Meng also narrowed his eyes, looking at him.

     After a while, Xue Meng laughed, but because he was drunk, no one knew what he was laughing about. He let go of the pillar, as if he wanted to go over and pat Mo Ran’s shoulder. However, his steps were unsteady, and he stumbled into Mo Ran’s arms.

     “Ugh… Ge…”

     Mo Ran stared blankly, then slowly lowered his eyes, lightly patting Xue Meng’s back. The night wind blew, causing his hair to cover half of his handsome face. No one knew what kind of expression Mo Ran had. After a long time, Xue Meng, who couldn’t hold his liquor, fell asleep in his arms.

     “Xue Meng, I’m sorry. I don’t deserve to be your ge…”

 

Comments

There are no comments yet.

Add comment

Create Your Own Website With Webador