CHU WANNING DIDN'T ask any more questions about Taxian-jun. In fact, he didn't say anything at all. The unease in Mo Ran's eyes was a better answer than he could ever get from asking. Besides, he was exhausted. After enduring blow after blow, his mind was numb.
Only after a very long time did he pull out of Mo Ran's embrace and slowly get to his feet. He didn't look directly at Mo Ran; he closed his eyes before speaking with an eerie calm. "I want to go into the cave."
Mo Ran couldn't say anything.
"Since my other self went through so much trouble to set this up, I want to take a look."
"When you learn the truth, will you hate me?" An unbearably childish question, but Mo Ran had to ask it. He answered himself in a mumble, "You'll hate me."
Chu Wanning's pupils flickered; his gaze finally came to rest on Mo Ran. "What exactly…did Emperor Taxian-jun do?"
He didn't say you—he said Emperor Taxian-jun. It gave Mo Ran a thread of hope, one so slender he hardly dared to grasp it for fear it might snap.
Chu Wanning's eyes narrowed slightly as his lips parted around another question. "Was he a killer?"
Silence.
"A mass murderer?"
Mo Ran wordlessly closed his eyes.
Chu Wanning recalled those dreams he used to have, those absurd and erotic dreams. Considering how that masked man had treated him by the Dragonsoul Pool, he already had a faint inkling as to what their relationship must've been. But he couldn't get this question past his lips. At last, he managed, "What about me? Who was I to him?"
Mo Ran's throat worked. He wanted to answer, but he couldn't. He had been running from death for so long, and today, his sins had finally caught up to him. He was like a condemned man waiting on the scaffold, watching the executioner's shadow raise the knife as he knelt. When would his head hit the ground? When?
Suddenly he was tired of waiting, tired of running. It was taking too long for this blade to fall. He'd rather rise to meet it, even if he'd end up a bloody pulp.
Mo Ran opened his eyes. "Let's go into the cave."
His fingers twitched, as though to take Chu Wanning's hand. But in the next moment he let his arm fall, fiddling with the hem of his sleeve as he walked on ahead. At the threshold of the cave, he hesitated and turned around, flashing a grin at Chu Wanning. "Shizun."
Chu Wanning gazed back at him. That sudden smile was so brilliant, so warm, as though he were exhausting all his hope and joy in a single instant, as though he would have no more use for them in the future.
Mo Ran's smile jolted Chu Wanning back to reality. He walked over, but he didn't know what to say. His heart was tied in a knot. He could only lift his ice-cold fingers and touch Mo Ran's equally cold face.
Eyes slowly widening, Mo Ran stiffened.
Chu Wanning closed his eyes and sighed. He reached down and took hold of Mo Ran's hand, the hand Mo Ran hadn't dared touch him with. As if reassuring Mo Ran, but also himself, he said, "I've…watched you grow into the person you are today. I know you're not him. You and Taxian-jun are not the same."
Mo Ran's eyes were still curved in a smile. After a long pause, he chuckled, throat tight. "Mn."
But his eyes misted over. How could they not be the same? He was the evilest person in the world, a ghost who'd fled from his past life. For him to hear these words of confidence before the end was surely a sign of heaven's mercy, thought Mo Ran. He wouldn't begrudge Chu Wanning whatever he chose to do after he saw the memories of his other self.
Mo Ran closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Hand in hand with Chu Wanning, he walked into the cave on Dragonblood Mountain.
The instant they stepped inside, the scenery of the mountain vanished.
The cave was narrow and cramped, no larger than a Sisheng Peak disciple's bedroom. A small table occupied the center, upon which sat a tarnished censer—the one from Huaizui's scroll. Tendrils of diaphanous smoke rose from the censer and filled the space. Mo Ran disliked the smell of incense, but he found he didn't mind this one, which carried a faint whiff of xifu haitang.
"What kind of spell is this?" asked Mo Ran.
Chu Wanning shook his head and hesitated. "I don't know," he said slowly. "My other self is a different person from me. I'm not necessarily familiar with all the spells he learned. Just like how Taxian-jun wouldn't necessarily know how to use a willow vine as a weapon." His gaze drifted toward the steadily smoking censer. "Perhaps we have to touch it to let it know we're here?" He tapped its side with a fingertip, but nothing happened.
Ever since Mo Ran entered the cave, he'd been watching Chu Wanning with a tender sorrow. He didn't want Chu Wanning to see the memories of his other self, but still he said, "Since Shizun set up an illusion for both of us, maybe it's not enough for you to touch it by yourself. Maybe we have to tell it we're both here."
"…Mn. Let's give it a try."
From either side, they reached out to touch the delicate floral filigree on the censer's body. The scented smoke in the cave instantly grew denser, surging like a tide to fill the entire space and obscuring their hands from view. The swiftness of it caught Mo Ran off guard. He grabbed for Chu Wanning's hand but was swallowed by the mist.
"Shizun!" he cried in alarm.
But it was too late. The mist was infused with an extraordinarily pure and potent spiritual energy, nothing like what he'd expect from an ordinary spiritual core. For a moment, he felt he was floating on a cloud, and in the next his limbs felt like they had been frozen. His body was completely unresponsive.
Perhaps he could still use his voice—he tried to shout, "Shizun, are you okay?" But only an incomprehensible gurgle left his lips before he could move no more.
Chu Wanning's predicament was similar. He called Mo Ran's name into the mist. At first he could still hear his cries, but soon, everything went silent. "Mo Ran?" He groped blindly, feeling for the edges of the illusion, but the spell in the censer had somehow turned the small chamber into a cavernous expanse.
"Mo…"
He felt his throat close up. Like Mo Ran, Chu Wanning realized with a start that he could no longer speak. He couldn't move a muscle; he'd lost control over his entire body. It felt just like those old dreams—it was him in the dream, but he couldn't choose his words or actions. He could only experience everything happening to him without being able to change a thing. His mind, already in turmoil, became even more confused. If there was something that needed to be said, why not just make a memory scroll? Why go to such trouble?
Only after a long while did the fog slowly dissipate. When he opened his eyes, the cave was gone. Scarlet candles swayed before him, waxen tears dripping down their sides. He sat before a familiar rosewood table, tidy and uncluttered. A deep scar ran down its surface—he had once sawed into the table by accident while making a Holy Night Guardian.
The cave had turned into the Red Lotus Pavilion. Chu Wanning sat stiffly, his body still unheeding of his commands. This illusion was much like the one from Peach Blossom Springs, except that he was powerless to act on his own. He could only passively experience the events of the past.
What was the purpose of this spell? What did his other self want him to see, to live through?
The sky was darkening outside the window. Two servants he'd never seen before stepped up and began combing his hair. Under control of the illusion, he reached up to stop them. "There's no need. I'll do it myself."
A loud bang sounded as someone threw open the door. Chu Wanning could sense that he dreaded seeing this person. He sat up at the table, back ramrod straight, refusing to turn his head, even letting his eyes fall shut.
"Both of you, out," a familiar voice said from behind him.
The two servants set down their combs and basins, then lowered their heads deferentially. "Yes, Your Majesty."
Chu Wanning heard them shuffle out. He still didn't turn or open his eyes, but of course he knew who had entered the room. He would know that voice anywhere. With an animalistic sixth sense, Chu Wanning felt that man walk toward him, one step after another… His breath was suddenly puffing against Chu Wanning's temple, hot and reeking of wine.
"Why haven't you gone to bed yet?" Mo Ran asked.
Chu Wanning heard his own tepid reply. "I'm getting ready."
"Hmph… I can tell." Mo Ran laughed softly into his ear. "You've taken off your outer robe and removed your hair crown—you really hated that outfit, didn't you? This venerable one commissioned the robes with the purest gold thread, and the crown is inlaid with the most precious jade. This venerable one gives you only the very best things, better even than what the empress receives—yet you still disdain them?"
Chu Wanning pressed his lips together.
"Fine." Mo Ran didn't wait for Chu Wanning to reply. "You don't like anything I give you. You've always looked down on me in your heart of hearts." He snorted. "So what? Look—in the end, you had no choice but to be mine."
Mo Ran snaked an immodest hand around Chu Wanning's waist, pulling him into his chest. This sensation, coupled with his anger, was beyond what Chu Wanning could endure; his eyes finally flew open, allowing him to take in this scene at last—
He faced a bronze mirror, which reflected the image of himself and Mo Ran. Mo Ran wore an emperor's beaded crown and was attired in elaborate robes of red and gold—wedding robes. As he held Chu Wanning from behind, he pressed close to mouth at his earlobe and neck.
Chu Wanning shuddered in fury, but not just that. "Stop screwing around."
"Ha, all right then. Then tell me, Shizun, how would you like to be screwed?"
His admonishment had backfired, earning him only ridicule. Chu Wanning seethed through clenched teeth, "You brute!"
Mo Ran chuckled. His gaze was besotted, his handsome features suffused with an intoxicated allure. Lips ghosting over the side of Chu Wanning's face, he murmured, "So what if I'm a brute. Look at yourself—I've still claimed you…through and through…"
Chu Wanning didn't know why, but a violent impulse coursed through him. He felt his fingers grasping for something before him on the table, which he thrust into the back of Mo Ran's hand.
Mo Ran let out a muffled grunt of pain.
Chu Wanning took the opportunity to throw him off. He glared at that tall figure wreathed in lamplight. "Get the hell out."
From this vantage point, Chu Wanning could finally see what he'd used to stab Mo Ran—it was a golden hairpin, the kind a man might wear at his wedding.
"Tsk tsk…" Mo Ran lifted his hand to examine his bleeding wound. He laughed coldly. Then his tongue flicked out like a viper's, licking away drops of scarlet blood. His frenzied eyes gleamed with a bestial light. They somehow marred the gallantry of his features, giving him the look of a vengeful ghost.
"Your spiritual core's already shattered—this venerable one let his guard down." Lips dyed carmine, Mo Ran began to laugh. "Chu Wanning, your claws certainly are sharp. This venerable one has underestimated you."
"…Get out."
"Get out, get out—is that all you can say?" Mo Ran let his hand fall, but he didn't move to bandage it. He almost seemed to enjoy the pain, a perverse satisfaction coming over his face. "You love to castigate this venerable one—so why were you so silent today in front of all our guests?"
Faced with Chu Wanning's stony silence, Mo Ran continued, "This venerable one immobilized your body, not your voice. You could've screamed at this venerable one not to touch you then." Mo Ran stepped closer, stopping an arm's length away. He grabbed the wrist of the hand in which Chu Wanning still held the hairpin, his grip startlingly strong. His mouth split into a grin, teeth stained scarlet. "But all you did was spill the water for washing our hands all over this venerable one's robes as soon as I released your hands from the spell." Mo Ran paused, then laughed. "Shizun, you were ever so furious. Why didn't you yell?"
"You… Have you no sense of shame?!"
"This venerable one is shameless indeed, but then again, who can truly claim to be a gentleman? Xue Meng? I invited him to the feast today, but he declined. What would you have done if he'd come?" Mo Ran chuckled. "Would you have started shouting when we knelt to heaven and earth; would you have begged him to take you away?"
Chu Wanning's conscious mind was still deeply befuddled by the conversation in the illusion, but he could tell this body understood what Mo Ran was saying. He ground his teeth in anger, refusing to speak.
Mo Ran watched him seethe for a moment, then leaned close and licked his earlobe with his blood-streaked tongue. Chu Wanning flinched.
"Chu Wanning, the way you glare at me with such resentment in your eyes…it's like you're begging to be held down and fucked." Mo Ran yanked Chu Wanning's hand below his waist. "If you don't believe me, just feel right here—isn't it so big and hot? Shizun, Yuheng Elder, Chu-zongshi—" Each address was more respectful than the last, but somehow, they sounded increasingly condescending. "See—it wants you so badly."
"Get—the hell—out!"
"That's the third time you've said that now." Mo Ran's eyes brimmed with malevolence. "Lucky for you, today's a joyous occasion for this venerable one, to have ascended to the top of the world and married a beautiful wife and concubine… This venerable one even gave the empress the cold shoulder and came to keep you company. Why are you still so vicious?" He paused before biting out two more words, laced with venom: "Consort Chu?"
Chu Wanning, trapped in this body, started like he'd been struck by lightning. Physically, he felt his stomach churn with nausea, his limbs shaking despite his attempts to control them.
Mo Ran burst into laughter, eyes glittering. "What's wrong? Are you perhaps overjoyed beyond words to hear this venerable one address you thus? Considering how I spend every single night with you, I would have long knocked you up and made you bear a bastard for this venerable one if you were a woman. How could you be expected to continue serving me in bed if this venerable one didn't give you a title? This venerable one is not an unreasonable man." He snickered.
Chu Wanning's head throbbed with rage, but he couldn't say anything. The world flashed dark. Did this rage and disgust belong only to the memories he was inhabiting? Both his physical body and his conscious soul were overcome by revulsion. He felt he might vomit, yet some part of him was still too terrified to believe what he was seeing.
Emperor Taxian-jun… The past lifetime's Mo Ran… Just what had he done?!
He was insane! Insane!
Mo Ran had his fill of laughter. He gripped Chu Wanning's jaw and crushed his lips in a harsh kiss, flooding his mouth with the taste of copper. Mo Ran's other hand closed pitilessly around both of Chu Wanning's wrists. He dragged Chu Wanning to the bed, shoved him down, and leaned over—
Trembling, Chu Wanning closed his eyes. He found himself pinned beneath that hot, solid, masculine body, as immovable as a great boulder.
"Time for you to do your duty," said Mo Ran. "We're married now—you belong to me. You can't escape it."