THE CRIMSON SHEETS rippled beneath him, and a pungent musk assailed his nose. Chu Wanning looked up at Mo Ran's face, the illusion overlapping with those old dreams. But they weren't dreams at all—they had all been real. Long ago, he and Mo Ran had already lain skin to skin; they had already been wed. Mo Ran had imprisoned him; he had knelt on the snow-covered ground, begging to see Mo Ran…
All of it was real.
At that moment, Chu Wanning couldn't name what he felt. Or perhaps, within the swirling incense, his mind gradually merged with that of the past life's Chu Wanning. His feelings, his thoughts—all of it aligned.
He felt his robes ripped open. As his lips were captured again, Chu Wanning closed his eyes. He felt only pain. Who was he? Was he the lionhearted Beidou Immortal, or the laughably cowed Consort Chu? Was he the Chu Wanning who'd earned Mo-zongshi's sincerity, or the shizun Taxian-jun despised?
Nothing was clear. Scraps of memories floated through his mind like vivid petals upon a running stream. He tried to dredge them up, but couldn't make them out. Eventually, only the events playing out upon the bed were clear enough to perceive.
In the illusion, Mo Ran gripped his waist and tore away his underclothes. There was none of the doting foreplay he was familiar with, only brusque subjugation.
Although their surroundings weren't real, he and Mo Ran—under control of the spell just as he was—acted out all their motions from the past life. Mo Ran pinned him to the sheets without a single kiss or caress. Chu Wanning's only warning was the rustle of robes behind him before a blunt, scorching heat pressed against his entrance.
"Shizun, pay attention—can you feel how it wants you? This venerable one is about to bestow his imperial favor upon you."
"You…bastard!"
Mo Ran scoffed. "Don't you still have to spread your legs for this bastard?" Chu Wanning felt a tearing sensation. With one thrust, that throbbing cock breached Chu Wanning where he had never been penetrated before.
It hurt. It hurt so much.
He hazily remembered Mo Ran's gentle eyes in the darkness, Mo Ran kissing him in the depths of the hot springs, saying to him, "It'll hurt. Listen to me—let's wait until next time."
But Taxian-jun showed him no such mercy. When that terrifying length began to move inside him, Chu Wanning felt it might puncture his gut, as if the next savage thrust would be the one to pierce through his abdomen and impale him then and there.
Chu Wanning flailed like a fish dragged ashore, but all the comfort he received was a crisp slap across the face. "It's not like I haven't fucked you before," Taxian-jun snapped. "How many times has it been—now you're acting all pure and virtuous?"
His cheek bloomed scarlet. Chu Wanning turned his face aside, hair spilling over reddened eyes, refusing to let slip a single sound or tear. He had never been more humiliated than on this night, but he would match that humiliation with haughtiness.
Mo Ran leaned forward and looped an arm around his waist, his hips bucking repeatedly against Chu Wanning's. The place where they joined grew unspeakably hot and sticky. Mo Ran paused in his movements—he wanted to see Chu Wanning's disgrace. He drew in a harsh breath and wrenched Chu Wanning's jaw to the side, his eyes dark and distant as he looked down at his face.
"You…" He had meant to speak more humiliating words, but those restrained, long-suffering eyes were unexpectedly beautiful beneath the candlelight. Mo Ran stared for a moment, then leaned down and claimed his lips in another bruising kiss. His warm, wet tongue licked roughly into Chu Wanning's mouth. As the kiss grew more heated, his thrusts quickened into sharp snaps, sinking as deep as possible each time, his thick cock pulsing inside Chu Wanning. Sticky fluid seeped from where their bodies met, dripping down Chu Wanning's thighs with every thrust…
Mo Ran broke the kiss, but his attitude became only more infatuated. His eyes misted over; whether with primal desire or deep feeling, it was hard to say. "Don't clutch the sheets—you belong to me now; you can hold onto me."
In this entire debauched tableau, this was the only sentiment that resembled affection. But Chu Wanning didn't heed him, refusing to embrace him or willingly sink into pleasure with him. Mo Ran's face gradually grew sinister again, his thrusts becoming increasingly wild.
Chu Wanning fisted his hands into the bedding, tendons straining in his wrists. He couldn't stand up to such forceful treatment, but Mo Ran didn't relent, cruelly pinching his waist and buttocks. He had no idea how long this went on for before Mo Ran roughly pulled out with a look of deep displeasure. Chu Wanning heard himself groan as Mo Ran flipped him over. His slick, spasming entrance gaped slightly, fluids from their joining still inside him. The massive head of Mo Ran's cock pressed against the cleft of his ass, rubbing back and forth.
He heard Mo Ran ask, "Isn't it big?"
No answer.
"Your husband knows how to make you feel good, hm?"
Chu Wanning heard himself rasp, as if on the verge of falling apart: "Fuck…off…"
"You fuck off!" Mo Ran swore. He rummaged around beside the bed and grabbed something. Chu Wanning's legs were forced apart. Then an indiscriminate amount of some cold ointment was squeezed into him.
He heard himself choke on a sob. "Mo Ran… Mo Ran, you beast…"
Mo Ran… Mo Ran.
No. That wasn't right. Mo Ran was the one who smiled brilliantly at him beneath a tree in full bloom.
Mo Ran said, "Shizun, Shizun, I want to hold an umbrella over you for as long as I live."
Mo Ran touched his hair and said gently, "It'll hurt."
Mo Ran was the one who grinned at him across waves of golden grain, who opened his arms wide for him, who fed him toasted milk candy, who lowered his lashes and smiled because of something he said, his cheeks going pink. He was bashful and innocent.
This was all wrong.
Fear flooded Chu Wanning.
Perhaps the censer had been left in the cave too long; the scenes that followed were muddier than the earlier ones. Darkness closed in. Chu Wanning's mind was blank; he couldn't see, he couldn't speak. All he knew was that he was still restrained, and Mo Ran's cock was still buried inside him, its searing girth making his scalp go numb.
Eventually, his surroundings brightened once more.
When Chu Wanning came back to his senses, the first thing he heard was Mo Ran's distorted cursing. The stinging pain of a slap burned across his face. Something cold and hard moved inside of him, soothing the terrible, maddening ache within.
It was still their wedding night. Chu Wanning could clearly recall what had happened just before this. He couldn't stop recounting the events of the past life. He knew Mo Ran had used an aphrodisiac salve on him. The drunken Taxian-jun had become increasingly irascible and violent throughout the course of the night. Alcohol and lust had burned the corners of Mo Ran's eyes, turning them scarlet.
This youthful emperor was ruled by hatred and desire. He grasped Chu Wanning by the throat and shouted, "Chu Wanning, is this what you want? You won't relent? Huh? How fucking stubborn can you be? You'd rather fuck yourself to death than let me fuck you?"
Chu Wanning heard himself reply. "I don't…need you…" He sounded utterly shattered. If he hadn't felt his lips move, he wouldn't have believed it was his own voice. Hot tears flowed down his cheeks. "Mo Ran…spare me…"
The man above him roared madly, "Who's going to spare me? Huh? Chu Wanning, have you ever thought who's going to spare me? Who can spare me!"
He pinned him to the bed and pulled out the object that had been inside him, tossing it aside. It clattered on the ground, ringing metallic—a sword, or perhaps a candlestick—had he just been masturbating with something like that?
Mo Ran touched his face, his voice crazed. Perhaps it was Chu Wanning's imagination, but it also seemed to carry a note of sorrow. "Chu Wanning, I hate you so much. You killed the person I loved the most—what am I supposed to do? Tell me, what am I supposed to do? I can only make you pay, I can only bring you to ruin at my hands… Chu Wanning…"
The man grasped his own heavy cock. In his frenzy, his first thrust went askew—the slick, hot head slipped past Chu Wanning's hole. Mo Ran gasped for breath, then lined himself up once more. Fingers digging into Chu Wanning's waist, he pressed in.
"Ahh—" Chu Wanning heard himself moan hoarsely, stretched to his limit. The man panted roughly as his cock split him open, scraping against those aphrodisiac-smeared walls. Chu Wanning shook from head to toe, drenched in sweat, his eyes losing focus… At last, lust swallowed him up.
The scene dimmed again. When he could see once more, his only sensation was boundless ecstasy. He could no longer differentiate between the body in the illusion and his real body. He was in desperate congress with that well-built man. Mo Ran was fucking him mercilessly, pinning him down on the bed. Chu Wanning sobbed beneath him, his fingers buried in the pelts they were lying on. Each brutal thrust threatened to crush him. He could feel Mo Ran's sweat dripping onto the small of his back, collecting in the dimples at the base of his spine.
"Say it… Do you want me to fuck you? You're squeezing me like such a little slut—what's the point of denying it? Fuck—I'm going to make you come, just like this…"
By now, Chu Wanning was teetering on the brink of insanity. That all-consuming desire had wrecked his soul; only his body remained, at the mercy of Mo Ran's ministrations, every inch of him needy and sensitive, impossible to satisfy.
"Say it…" The man spoke between ragged pants as he rapturously drove into him from behind.
"Mngh…"
Mo Ran sank deep, setting an unrelenting pace. The rims of his eyes scarlet, he took a deep breath, then pulled Chu Wanning's hips higher and buried himself to the hilt, thrusting in small circular motions, drawing out Chu Wanning's pleasure in his state of unnatural arousal. But he already knew he had lost. Only after slicking his insides with half a tube of the world's most potent aphrodisiac was Chu Wanning willing to submit to him.
Mo Ran had lost. But so what? He'd gotten what he wanted. His lofty shizun had become the panting, lust-addled Consort Chu beneath him. Nothing could be more thrilling. The mere thought of it made his cock harden inside the man on the bed.
"Tell me you need me to fuck you; tell me you belong to me. Say it."
Amidst this unending torment and humiliation, Chu Wanning heard himself mumble, dazed, "Yes… I'm yours…"
His rationality was gone, his resistance shattered. All that remained was the terrifying desire burning him up.
"Don't say you want me—say you want me to fuck you." Mo Ran's words were laced with spite, but he was nearing the limits of his endurance. Throat bobbing, he slammed his hips against Chu Wanning's ass, driving into him with a primal urgency.
Chu Wanning's limbs were slack, unable to support him even on his knees. He was pliant as loose mud, phoenix eyes half-lidded, moaning and panting without thought. Just a tiny dab of the Eternal Passion aphrodisiac was enough to turn a saint into a wanton slut, and Mo Ran had squeezed the contents of half a tube into him.
"Does it feel good? Do you like it like this?"
Mo Ran braced himself on the bed with one arm, his other coming up to stroke Chu Wanning's chest and abdomen. The bed creaked and swayed. Mo Ran's eyes glinted with a feverish light, erotic and intoxicated.
"Say it—tell me you need me to fuck you."
He punctuated his demands with a snap of his hips. Chu Wanning trembled under the wave of pleasure; it eroded his control, stoked his terror. Finally his mind crumbled. Hoarse, gasping sobs leaked from his throat: "Ha… Ahhh…"
"That's right, let it out." Mo Ran closed his eyes and let his head fall back, the jut of his throat rolling. He slapped Chu Wanning's ass. "Let me hear you, and I'll make you feel even better."
"Nghh… Ah… I need…"
"What do you need?"
The drawn-out torture had sapped Chu Wanning's awareness of all but this moment. Shuddering, he whined desperately, "Fuck me…"
Mo Ran's eyes darkened, and his hips drove forward with sloppy eagerness. Some of his thrusts were so wild the head of his cock slipped out when he pulled back. Each time, he hurriedly lined himself up and pressed in again in a heated, wet slide. He rasped to Chu Wanning, pinned solidly beneath him, "Shizun, you're so hot inside—so wet and hot. You're taking me so well… This disciple could get addicted to this."
"Ah… Mmm… Don't stop… Ah, harder, harder—ah!" Chu Wanning drew in a sharp breath. "A little faster… Deeper…"
Mo Ran grasped Chu Wanning's trembling hand where it was wringing the bedsheets, wrapping an arm around him from behind. Voice suddenly surpassingly tender, he murmured into his ear, "Wanning, today's our wedding day—I'll make you come on my cock, then I'll come inside you. I'm going to fill your belly with my seed… Shizun…you're so tight…"
"Mngh…"
"Why are you only like this when I use medicine on you?" he asked, licking Chu Wanning's earlobe. "You like it when I treat you like this, don't you?"
"I… Ah…"
The man's cock was so thick, so long, that Chu Wanning felt like it might run him through at its deepest. Unable to speak, he could only shake his head, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes.
"Do you like it?"
Chu Wanning couldn't muster a reply.
"You don't like it?" Mo Ran's thrusts came to an aborted halt, his cock still fully seated inside him. Chu Wanning could feel it twitching inside him, throbbing in time with their rapid heartbeats. The subtlety of the sensation compounded Chu Wanning's torment. His throat was parched, but his souls were thoroughly chilled.
The man rolled his hips a few times, slow movements like the roots of a great tree breaking soil, like a tender seedling pushing aside the dirt. Racked with spasms, Chu Wanning sagged on the bed.
"Never mind then," Mo Ran rumbled in his ear, "if you don't like it…"
Chu Wanning's eyes flew open. His heart ached, but he'd already abandoned himself to desperation. "No… Don't…" His eyes darted wildly, his lids drifting closed. "I can't take it anymore…"
That dose of aphrodisiac was hundreds of times more potent than an ordinary person could bear.
Mo Ran's voice was so low and husky, his words were difficult to make out. "Then what do you want me to do?"
"Inside… I can't take it anymore, save me…"
The man behind him heaved a sigh of satisfaction. He lifted Chu Wanning up and settled him in his lap facing him, then bucked upward, driving into him aggressively from below. Never before had Mo Ran fucked him so deeply, each thrust pressing so far in that his balls strained at his entrance, threatening to push in too. Flesh melded seamlessly into flesh. Chu Wanning gasped and moaned, loose-limbed in Mo Ran's arms. Mo Ran's hips moved tirelessly as he pulled Chu Wanning's face down to kiss him hard, breaths blurring between them. His throat bobbed as he swallowed. "So good…"
Chu Wanning muttered mindlessly, as though his souls had left his body to drown in this ocean of desires. "Ahh… Don't stop… Hngh… So hot… Faster…"
"I won't stop; I'll give you everything… Chu Wanning… Wanning…"
Mo Ran kept up this pace so long Chu Wanning wondered if he might die in his arms like this. Fluids and salve dripped out of him, churned to foam with their incessant motion, smearing onto his thighs and staining the sheets.
Suddenly, Mo Ran hugged him tight, shifting forward to press Chu Wanning down on the bed again. Lifting his legs, he drove into him with renewed urgency, with alarming speed and force. Chu Wanning's eyes widened, soft whimpers trailing from his lips. The man thrust into him with single-minded focus, pulling out each time until only the head of his cock remained inside, then snapping his hips forward so fiercely Chu Wanning's cries hitched with his movements.
"Wanning… Wanning…" It wasn't anyone else he wanted. He cupped Chu Wanning's face, pressing their foreheads together. "Babe, I'm gonna come. Let me come inside you…"
Chu Wanning's lips parted, gasping for air like a fish on the verge of death. He didn't even know why he was calling out. All he could do was moan in the grip of that overwhelming ecstasy, the heavy musk of sex filling his nose. "Come for me…" he whined, voice breaking. "Ah! Ahh… Mnnngh!"
Thick come spilled into him. Mo Ran closed his eyes and growled, his hips stuttering, the sheets in total disarray. Chu Wanning's head struck the bedpost, but Mo Ran kept thrusting, insatiable, making sure Chu Wanning took every last drop. The sensation sent great shudders through Chu Wanning. His pale, slender toes curled. Finally, he couldn't stop himself from wrapping his arms around Mo Ran's neck.
Their ragged breaths mingled in the air between them, Mo Ran moaning as he came, Chu Wanning crying out hoarsely beneath him. Whether they found themselves immersed in this tumultuous ocean of lust because of the potency of the aphrodisiac or because of the desires hidden in both of their hearts, unbeknownst to either… Who could say?
After what seemed like an age, Chu Wanning's awareness slowly returned to him. Somehow, along with his conscious mind came the memories of his other life, rushing in like a tide. After his and Mo Ran's frenzied union, these recollections poured in one after another.
He remembered a heartbroken Mo Ran kneeling in the snow after Shi Mei's death at the Heavenly Rift.
He remembered Rufeng Sect awash in blood, earth and sky stained scarlet. Mo Ran was laughing in delight as he ran his sword through Ye Wangxi's shoulder.
He remembered how he'd been made into a blood hourglass, and how Mo Ran had salvaged his life in the Red Lotus Pavilion to then imprison him deep in the palace, his freedom wrested away.
All of it came to him, one scene after another.
The cave had once again appeared around them. He could feel the ice-cold ground beneath him, his robes torn away, his whole body damp and hot. Mo Ran held him tightly from behind, his arms trembling. Both were drenched in sweat, and the air was heavy with the scent of sex.
He remembered everything.
Chu Wanning didn't move. He didn't say anything; he didn't lose his temper. His head ached fit to split. He could feel that during their joining, something intangible had transferred from Mo Ran's body into his own. Whatever it was, it allowed him to take hold of these memories of his other life.
But what was it? There were too many new memories. Chu Wanning's skull felt swollen and tender. He should've known what it was that they exchanged between them, he thought, but as it was, he simply couldn't figure it out.
"Shizun." Mo Ran's voice was so hesitant in his ear, like a soft bud at the end of a branch in the first days of spring. That harsh, domineering manner was completely gone. "I'm sorry…"
Chu Wanning didn't turn in Mo Ran's embrace, but at the sound of Mo Ran's voice, he could imagine his red, teary eyes, his miserable, remorseful expression.
"I'm sorry, I still… I still ended up hurting you…"
The censer had affected Mo Ran the same way it had affected Chu Wanning—although he remained conscious, he couldn't control any of his physical actions. When he grabbed Chu Wanning by the waist, when he took the man beneath him with such unforgiving urgency, Mo Ran only felt terrible pain.
He didn't want this at all… When he looked down and saw Chu Wanning's eyes red with unshed tears, he wanted to bend low and kiss him gently, to soothe and comfort him. But his lips shaped cutting words, and his hands carried out such fierce abuse. No matter how his heart had screamed in agony, there had been nothing he could do to stop himself.
Chu Wanning lay on the frigid stone, head throbbing, so sapped of strength he couldn't lift so much as a finger. As he listened to Mo Ran's apology, his ears buzzed and his vision flashed dark, as though he might pass out again at any moment. Chu Wanning's lips parted. His desperate screams had left his voice scratchy and hoarse. "Pull… Pull out first."
Mo Ran pressed his lips together and didn't answer. He'd come out of the illusion earlier than Chu Wanning, and had made space between them as soon as he regained control over his body. But Chu Wanning's tearing was so severe he thought Mo Ran's cock was still buried inside him.
The ache in Mo Ran's heart was unbearable. Before they'd entered the cave, he thought they might encounter something akin to the memory scroll. Never had he expected he would also return to his past life's wedding night on Sisheng Peak. Never had he expected to find himself dressed in scarlet and gold finery, pushing open the door to the Red Lotus Pavilion once again.
Mo Ran knew all too well what he'd done. But he'd never imagined the spell would make him relive that part of his past. He had no desire to hurt Chu Wanning ever again, to be Emperor Taxian-jun ever again. But his body wouldn't answer to him. Even worse, throughout the entire brutal course of events, he could feel anticipation and excitement singing in the depths of his heart.
In that one respect, he and Taxian-jun were no different: they both yearned to tear Chu Wanning to shreds, to make his submission total. Why try to fight it? He was still the same Mo Weiyu. He couldn't change; he couldn't escape. In the course of that violent subjugation, Mo Ran's brain had buzzed with dizzy pleasure when he heard the man underneath him whimpering in pain. Satisfaction clashed with all-consuming guilt, sending spray flying high into the air. Suddenly, he couldn't tell who he was—was he Taxian-jun or Mo-zongshi? Was he good or evil, kind or wicked?
There between the sheets, he'd touched Chu Wanning's face and spoken those same disgraceful words he'd said in the past life. Consort Chu? Yes—in the past lifetime, out of all the acts he'd committed against Chu Wanning, three were most unspeakable. The first was using a killing move against him. The second was humiliating him by forcing him to submit in bed. And the third was to marry him.
Mo Ran had stripped him of his identity and stolen his autonomy. Acting on his own selfish desires, he'd transformed that dauntless cultivator into his rightful concubine. Not many had known the true identity of the "Consort Chu" the emperor had taken. But it was an undeniable truth that Mo Ran had forced him to don the scarlet veil and bow with him to heaven and earth before the watchful eyes of the crowd. He had foisted this unwanted title upon Chu Wanning.
Even Mo Ran wasn't sure what he'd intended with this. If he'd really wanted to cause Chu Wanning pain, he could've announced to the world that the emperor had married his own shizun. He could've let everyone know that the Beidou Immortal had been reduced to Taxian-jun's bedwarmer.
Why hadn't he done so? He'd instead guarded this secret so carefully that even his empress Song Qiutong had been ignorant of the true identity of the mysterious Consort Chu for a long time. He had fantasized about exacting revenge, about publicizing Chu Wanning's disgrace, but in the end, he'd put on a show with no spectators at all.
Yet he'd savored every moment of it. Why?
He recalled how he'd wanted to give Chu Wanning a grave after he died, but was afraid everyone would finally see through his ploy and laugh at him. He had no choice but to wield the pick himself, digging a trench before the Heaven-Piercing Tower. Within it, he buried the red and gold robes Chu Wanning had worn at their wedding ceremony.
Taxian-jun had sat in front of that gravestone for a long time, cheek in hand. He'd wanted to write:
Grave of the Emperor's Former Teacher, Chu Wanning
But these words seemed laughably pathetic, as if he were a pining, bitter widow. It would look ridiculous. He spent a long time in contemplation with Bugui held aloft before he had a flash of inspiration, an idea both discreet and intimate. Chuckling to himself, he scraped his blade across the stone:
Grave of Consort Chu
He felt as if a great weight had been lifted off his chest, yet these four words still felt insufficient. He remembered Chu Wanning's lofty, arrogant mien, those eyes that rarely deigned to meet his own. Irritation and fondness bloomed in his heart—he'd never see that kind of expression on Chu Wanning's face again. Well then, Taxian-jun would simply end up as his bitter, pining widow, he thought maliciously.
Chu Wanning had abandoned him, leaving him to live on alone. How heartless was this man, to use his own death as his last revenge?
It was too much.
He glared, stewing in resentment until his eyes were bloodshot.
It was just too much.
No—he resolved to disgrace and bully Chu Wanning one last time. He refused to let him shut his eyes without regrets in the underworld. A century later, when Mo Ran entered hell himself, he wanted to be able to point and laugh at Chu Wanning, to taunt that man clad in white: You lost, and I won. See? You're dead, but I still humiliated you.
Holding his blade, Taxian-jun remained in thought in front of that grave until the sun disappeared and the curtain of evening fell, until darkness descended and the crescent moon winked down from on high.
Surrounded by watery moonlight like frost, like the whisper of white robes, Mo Ran at long last lifted Bugui and carved two more words into the gravestone.
Grave of the Esteemed Consort Chu
Dust trickled softly down the stone. Cheek propped in his hand, he sank into giggles. What a wonderful title, he thought. With this, it was clear to all that Chu Wanning belonged to him—only Chu Wanning would have known there was no esteem in the title at all. Perfect. Now if only Chu Wanning's rage could bring him back to life—that would be even better.
Heart brimming with anticipation, eyes flashing brightly, he cheerfully ran over to the Red Lotus Pavilion. Chu Wanning's temper was awful. How could he bear such humiliation? He might as well wake up, Mo Ran thought. Then they could have another duel, another test of mettle. This time, when he saw Chu Wanning struggling with his injuries, he would allow him a move. Hell, even ten moves—he'd be willing to entertain it.
So long as he woke up.
He stood next to the lotus pond, gazing at that unmarred body.
This venerable one's already allowed you ten moves. Be reasonable now. Didn't you see the tombstone this venerable one raised for you? Aren't you mad? Don't you want to grab me by the collar and scream at me? You were always so attached to your lofty reputation, but now, all that's left is that ridiculous line—Grave of the Esteemed Consort Chu.
Wake up.
Wake up!
His face went from placid to livid with rage. But still Chu Wanning lay there, unspeaking, unmoving.
Only after a long, long time did Mo Ran finally understand that he'd gotten what he'd always thought he'd wanted: Chu Wanning's obedience. His shizun, his mortal enemy, his companion in bed, his Chu Wanning—finally, he wouldn't talk back.
In the silent, cold cave on Dragonblood Mountain, Mo Ran embraced his wounded lover. Neither of them spoke.
Mo Ran suddenly recalled that rainy night they'd spent at the inn in Wuchang Town. The man in his arms had been so uncertain yet so eager as he touched him, his ears bright red as he quietly asked Mo Ran if it felt good.
Back then, he'd vowed to himself never to hurt Chu Wanning in this lifetime, not in the slightest measure. He'd wanted to take it slow, to stoke the flames bit by bit. He'd wanted to let Chu Wanning gradually become comfortable with him before ultimately making him shudder with the ecstasy of their joining, body and soul. He'd made many plans, come up with many ideas. He'd imagined countless times what their first real union would look like: when and where it would be, whether the sky would be aglow with rosy sunset or spangled with brilliant stars, whether haitang or apricot petals would float by outside the window.
He'd never thought it would be like this—that the first time in this life they let their desire and flesh become one would be such an absurd, painful, and deranged affair.
Both of them were deeply weary. As Mo Ran lay next to Chu Wanning, he felt a strange fluttering in his chest—as though some pure-white object was trembling mightily in his heart.
That object broke free with a great rumble, like a towering tree pulled up by its roots. That pristine whiteness seemed to be wrapped around something filthy and sinister. Both struggled outward, one white, one black, bursting from his chest with all speed.
He didn't know what they were, but he had no thought to spare for it, because Chu Wanning had said Pull out first. He didn't reply—he didn't know what to say. Without a word, he repressed the agony in his chest. He slowly gathered the clothes that littered the ground and silently helped Chu Wanning dress. It took a very long time, because he didn't dare touch Chu Wanning below the waist. Those purpling bruises were indisputable evidence of what he'd done, of the pain Chu Wanning was experiencing.
Nor did he dare look at Chu Wanning's face. What would he find in his eyes right now? Disappointment, rancor, desolation…? Mo Ran couldn't continue the thought.
Finally, Chu Wanning's robes were on again. Mo Ran's headache worsened, and he was drenched in cold sweat. He thought maybe his discomfort was related to whatever had escaped from his heart. Enduring the pain, he wrapped his fingers around Chu Wanning's ice-cold hand. He couldn't summon the courage to look at Chu Wanning's face, so he merely stared at his fingers. Finally, he asked in a small voice, "Shizun, do you remember everything?"
"…Mn."
Mo Ran's mind stalled. His face went blank, like an abandoned mutt that'd lost its home. After staring off into space for a long beat, he closed his eyes.
He had always feared something like this would happen. But now that his trial was imminent, he discovered, much to his surprise, that he felt calm and at peace. Like an anxious fugitive led to the prison at last, he stood in his cheerless cell and looked around. Everything he'd dreaded, all those nightmares he'd run from—they all materialized into this new reality. The other shoe had finally dropped.
While he was fleeing death, he'd never spent a single peaceful night. But now that the walls had closed around him, he could finally sleep soundly. There was no more need to run. There was no more hope, no more fear. Only relief.
"I'm confused; many things…still aren't clear to me." Whether from screaming or the heaviness of his new memories, Chu Wanning's voice was hoarse and his complexion even worse than Mo Ran's. "It's all a mess."
Mo Ran screwed up all his courage and touched Chu Wanning's bone-white cheek with fingers that trembled terribly.
"Mo Ran…" Chu Wanning murmured vacantly. "Emperor Taxian-jun…"
Mo Ran waited numbly for him to continue, but Chu Wanning closed his eyes, lashes trembling, a deep furrow between his brows.
"Don't think about all of that right now." Eyes red-rimmed, Mo Ran ran his fingers down Chu Wanning's face, stroking the wisps of hair at his temples. "Do you want to sleep? I'll stay with you."
A shiver ran through Chu Wanning. Mo Ran felt like a knife was twisting in his heart.
"Shizun, don't be scared—it's me, not Taxian-jun… I'll never hurt you again, not ever."
Chu Wanning's eyes fluttered open slightly, dewy wetness glimmering beneath sooty lashes. Mo Ran thought he would speak. But after a moment, no sound made it past his lips. Chu Wanning merely closed his eyes again and turned his face aside, his shoulders hunching unconsciously.
"Shizun…"
"I want to ask you something."
Mo Ran remained silent, waiting.
"If…you'd found out earlier that the person who gave you congee outside Wubei Temple was me…" Chu Wanning sounded bone-weary. "Would you have spared me all those years in Wushan Palace?"
The question cut straight to the quick of Mo Ran's heart. He knew. Chu Wanning already knew.
But of course he did—when Mo Ran had searched so obsessively for his savior-gege in the past lifetime, Chu Wanning had been right there in the palace. He must've known. Chu Wanning had seen it all in the past life, but he'd never said anything… In all those years they'd spent together, Chu Wanning had never told him the truth. It wasn't until today that the accumulated weight of his suffering finally crushed him.
Mo Ran began to tremble all over. He felt a lump in his throat, and he didn't know how to answer. He reached up—he only wanted to put an arm around Chu Wanning. But the instant he touched his shoulder, he could feel it shaking.
Chu Wanning was crying. But Mo Ran knew he didn't want him to see.
After a while, Mo Ran couldn't bear the discomfort. He still didn't know why the past life's Chu Wanning had devised such an illusion, but he could no longer ignore the strange sensation in his chest.
Looking down, he discovered with a start that a delicate tendril of smoke was floating out of his chest and into Chu Wanning's. It was so gossamer-pale he hadn't noticed it before. Upon closer examination, he found that the smoke was black one moment, white the next, flowing without cease from his heart to Chu Wanning's.
What was this?
Black smoke was dissipating from Chu Wanning's body as well, gathering into a clump of darkness that was drawn into the censer nearby.
What on earth? He turned to warn Chu Wanning, only to discover he had fallen unconscious again. The accumulated memories of his past lifetime were too heavy a burden to bear. They had arrived in a disordered heap, and Chu Wanning's mind was scrambling to sort and reorganize them.
"Shizun."
It hurt… Why did it hurt so much? He felt there was a tug-of-war within his heart, one side black, the other white, one side pure, the other filthy. Dark brows knitted, Mo Ran struggled to his feet and made his way over to the censer. He lifted the lid with shaking fingers.
Inside was the dark qi that had seeped out of his chest—it had coalesced in the shape of a black, lushly petaled flower. Mo Ran took one look at it before his vision went dark, and he knew no more.