THAT UNSETTLINGLY DISTORTED voice broke the stillness of the room. Had Chu Wanning been able to see, he would've discovered Shi Mei sitting at his bedside, gazing at him cheerfully—as if he was a spider, and Chu Wanning a creature that had haplessly stumbled into his web.
"How are you feeling? Did you sleep well?"
Chu Wanning didn't immediately answer. He shifted slightly and found that his spiritual energy was still woefully depleted. His wrists were bound with an immortal-binding rope and his eyes by a black silk ribbon.
Panic would be futile at this juncture. Chu Wanning had always been dauntless; he had a clear idea of his goals, and he knew how to meet any challenge with a steady heart. Across two lifetimes, only one man had ever put him off-balance. No one else could so much as ruffle his composure.
Chu Wanning silently combed through his disjointed memories and impressions from before he'd lost consciousness. He'd heard fragmented conversations and movements around him while he'd been drifting in and out of awareness. He now endeavored to piece together this information.
As he thought, the door to the hidden chamber rumbled open. Nangong Liu had returned with a basket full of fresh fruit. "Dear friend-gege, here are the tangerines," he said. "I picked the ones with little circles on the bottom. They're the sweetest…" He paused as he caught sight of Chu Wanning on the bed. "Huh? The favorite consort-gege's awake?"
Hearing such an epithet directed toward himself, Chu Wanning's bloodless face instantly grew stormy. Favorite consort…as in Consort Chu? So then this "dear friend-gege" could only be…
Shi Mei took the tangerines from Nangong Liu and patted him on the head with a smile. "Good job. I have to talk to Consort Chu about a few things. Go outside and play by yourself, okay?"
"Can't I stay? I can peel the tangerines for you."
"No, you shouldn't stay," Shi Mei replied. "Some things aren't fit for children's ears."
Nangong Liu grumbled dopily and left the way he'd come.
The room was now quiet, filled only with the sounds of their breathing and the occasional sputter of the candles. Shi Mei selected a tangerine, peeled it with practiced movements, and removed the stringy pith. As he worked, he spoke to Chu Wanning in a tone one might use to chat about the weather. "Could you tell who that was—the person who just left?"
Met with silence, Shi Mei prompted, "I'm sure you recognized his voice."
He brought the freshly peeled tangerine to Chu Wanning's lips. "Try this—it's a tangerine from Mount Jiao. Xu Shuanglin planted it himself, and he knew what he was doing. It should be very sweet."
Chu Wanning turned his face away.
"Look at you," Shi Mei said slowly. "In a temper the moment you wake up."
After sitting silent a minute, Chu Wanning said coldly, "Where is he?"
"Who?"
"You know who I'm talking about."
Shi Mei arched a brow. "You mean Mo Ran?"
When Chu Wanning didn't reply, Shi Mei laughed softly. "Looks like you really do care for him. See how his whereabouts are the first thing on your mind—you haven't even asked who I am. Surely someone who humiliated you all those years isn't worth your concern?"
The blindfolded man pressed his lips into a thin line, his strain showing in the set of his jaw.
As Shi Mei stared, a maddening heat flared to life in his chest. But he still feigned calm, as if nothing fazed him. A proper meal should be eaten with elegance. It wouldn't do to bare one's fangs or leave bloody drippings. Taxian-jun's style of wolfing everything down, bones and all, was too rash. His bowl was empty before he could appreciate the flavor. Shi Mingjing felt nothing but disdain for that reincarnated starving mongrel. Though a burning heat was pooling in his own belly, he would still take the time to gently massage the meat, to baste the delectable dish before him in aromatic juices. He would braise this delicacy until it was meltingly tender before savoring every last bite.
"Let me ask you another question: You won't eat a tangerine that's held right up to your lips?" Shi Mei chuckled. "With this obstinate personality of yours, how did you ever manage to keep Emperor Taxian-jun happy?"
"Take it away."
"I still think it best if you eat it. You haven't drunk any water in days; your lips are starting to crack."
"Where is Mo Ran?" Chu Wanning said between gritted teeth.
Shi Mei fixed his gaze on Chu Wanning, his smile slowly fading. "Whether in this lifetime or the last, whether you have your memories or not, Mo Ran's the only person you ever think about. Sh—"
Before he could finish saying Shizun, Shi Mei realized his mistake and promptly shut his mouth. But Chu Wanning caught the tiny wobble in his act.
Shi Mei narrowed his eyes. "Tell me, what's so great about Mo Ran?" he demanded, watching the last bit of color fade from Chu Wanning's compressed lips. "He's impulsive, dense, laughably naïve, and morally questionable. What is there to like about him?" He waited. When no answer was forthcoming, he asked derisively: "His face? His spiritual power? His charm?"
His voice was a low growl by the end, those long-suppressed carnal desires rearing their head. When he saw Chu Wanning biting his bottom lip as he controlled his emotions, Shi Mei felt his mouth grow dry. His questioning veered in a more obscene direction. "Or is it because he's good in bed?"
Chu Wanning's pallid face colored with fury. "Shut up."
Of course Shi Mei didn't listen to him. He'd gone to no end of trouble to get his hands on this man. He wasn't going to stop before he'd had his fun. Grinning, he asked, "Perhaps Consort Chu doesn't know that Mo Ran left the posthumous title of 'Esteemed Consort' on your grave in the past life?"
Shi Mei trained his gaze on Chu Wanning's face, taking in every minute change in his expression. His eyes curved into generous crescents. "It sounds silly to call a bed warmer esteemed, but I guess it's fitting. In both lifetimes, no one sullied your honor but him. But that also means you have no one to compare him to," Shi Mei mused. "Of course you'd think he's the best if you've never tried anyone else."
A slow fingertip traced Chu Wanning's features, sliding from his nose to his lips, his jaw, the jut of his throat. Chu Wanning vibrated with anger, tendons bulging from his wrists as he strained against the immortal-binding ropes. But his efforts were futile.
"Don't waste your energy," Shi Mei advised. "If Consort Chu wants to be unbound, if you want to know where Mo Ran is, I can grant your wishes. But—as my war prize, won't you at least play a little game with me first?"
A tense pause. "What do you want?"
Shi Mei laughed. "I just want to take a little bit of your heart from the person you gave it to. I want you to stop thinking about him and think fondly of me instead—how about that?"
"You're the one who planted that gu flower. Why would I think fondly of you?"
It was impossible for Chu Wanning to completely hide the despair and pain in his voice. Despite a mighty effort to quell his emotions, they were still on the verge of flooding out.
"Indeed I am." Shi Mei chuckled softly. "But, Consort Chu, do you know who I really am? Why don't you take a guess?"
"If there's something you want to say, get to the point."
"Ah, you're as ferocious as ever." Shi Mei sighed. "All right then. Consort Chu once said that small bets beget cheer and large bets beget ruin—you might as well go for ruin if you're going to bet at all. So why don't we have a little wager between us?" After a beat of silence, Shi Mei added, "If you don't mind, let me first see how many articles of clothing you're wearing."
Chu Wanning didn't make a sound, but his jaw spasmed unconsciously. Shi Mei's spirits rose yet again. He counted five separate articles of clothing on Chu Wanning including his robes and belt sash.
"I'll give you five chances. If you guess right, I'll tell you where Mo Ran is." Shi Mei paused thoughtfully. "But for every time you guess wrong, I'll take off a piece of clothing. If all your clothes are gone, but Consort Chu still hasn't guessed correctly, then…"
Rather than finish the thought, Shi Mei's pale pink tongue flicked out to moisten his lips. He returned to his seat, waiting for Chu Wanning to make his first guess. If Chu Wanning refused to speak, that too was fine—Shi Mei was in no rush. If there was one thing he had plenty of now, it was time.
Yet as minute after minute slipped by without a peep from Chu Wanning, Shi Mei's brows inched higher. He had plenty of time, it was true, but not necessarily the patience to go with it. "Come, take a guess," he urged.
Chu Wanning replied at last: "Fuck off."
Shi Mei's lip curled. "Don't forget—you're at my mercy right now. Don't push me." A pause. "Chu Wanning, you have nothing with which to bargain with me. Emperor Taxian-jun isn't right in the head; he might have let you have your way when he couldn't figure out how to win the argument, but I'm not like him." He coldly continued, "When you're in my hands, you'll need to be a little more obedient."
He waited a while longer, but Chu Wanning said nothing. "Don't make me resort to force," Shi Mei warned, voice hardening. "Keeping silent won't make things any easier for you."
He reached for Chu Wanning's sash with one long, slender hand, his fingers trailing along the fabric like a knife slicing through the tender meat of a fish. "Listen now. I'm going to count to three. If you still refuse to speak, the consequences will be yours to bear."
Shi Mei's eyes gleamed faintly. He wasn't sure if he wanted Chu Wanning to guess correctly or not. Either way, it didn't really matter. They were long past the point of no return. He wondered how he should reveal his true identity. Whatever method he chose, it had to be both sufficiently thrilling and visceral. He had traded moves with the man before him over two lifetimes. Now that he'd come away victorious, he deserved to savor his triumph.
"One."
The world seemed to shimmer with excitement in Shi Mei's eyes.
"Two."
How would Chu Wanning feel? Angry? Sad? Scared? He waited, lips parted in expectation.
"Three. I see Consort Chu intends to take his esteemed chastity to the grave. No wonder Taxian-jun was so addicted to you," said Shi Mei, only half-joking. "Since you refuse to guess, we'll move on to harsher methods. You—"
"Hua Binan." Chu Wanning's voice was cold as ice.
Shi Mei's hand stilled on its way to pulling open Chu Wanning's sash. He let out a small laugh. "You got half of it. Go on?"
A foxlike smirk appeared on his face. Such cunning would be disagreeable on most people, but Shi Mei's elegance was such that he still resembled a pure lotus blooming over the water. He was certain Chu Wanning wouldn't be able to tease out that innermost kernel of truth. Self-satisfaction surged in his chest—
"I wish you'd truly died."
Shi Mei's smile froze. It was several breaths before he managed to ask: "What did you say?"
The man on the bed spoke without the slightest hint of warmth. "In the past lifetime, during that Heavenly Rift in the snowstorm. I wish you had truly died."
Shi Mei gaped at him. Words of jubilation had been on the tip of his tongue, but now, he found himself speechless. His hand remained suspended above Chu Wanning; he didn't know where to put it or what to do.
"Shi Mingjing." Chu Wanning's sigh was soft, but it left Shi Mei suddenly numb, as if stung by a wasp. "It's you, isn't it."
It was phrased like a question, but Chu Wanning's voice was sure.
Shi Mei let his lashes fall, hiding his eyes. Finally, he chuckled. "That's right—I didn't die. Sorry to disappoint you." He wouldn't admit he'd lost, but the elation had faded from his voice. "I'm the Shi Mingjing who came here from the past lifetime," said Shi Mei. "From your other life; from Taxian-jun's world. Don't get me mixed up with that kid who's been tagging at your heels in this lifetime." He hesitated. "I'll untie you like I said I would."
He unknotted the immortal-binding rope and tugged the ribbon from Chu Wanning's face. Peach-blossom eyes met phoenix ones, both pairs as calm and unfathomable as an ancient well.
"Greetings, Shizun."
Chu Wanning had expected this; he felt deeply grim but not surprised. "So you do remember I'm your shizun," he remarked, fixing his eyes on Shi Mei.
Shi Mei smiled even more sweetly. Only now did Chu Wanning see how finely honed the dagger lurking beneath that sweetness was. "Mn, of course I remember," answered Shi Mei. "You once held an umbrella over me. I've never forgotten."
As utterly spent as Chu Wanning was, even this couldn't negate the innate stubbornness in his features. He glared at Shi Mei, then said, clipped and cold: "You bastard."
"You flatter me," Shi Mei said with a laugh. "Shizun, when did you guess it was me? Was it in the past life?"
Chu Wanning merely pinned him with that icy gaze. His eyes contained fury, to be sure, but most prominent was disappointment.
"No, it can't have been," Shi Mei mused. "If you'd known I was Hua Binan then, you would've told Huaizui when you opened the Space-Time Gate." His long lashes flicked up. "It was in this lifetime. Maybe not long ago." He paused. "You heard some of the conversation between me and Mo Ran at Dragonblood Mountain."
Faced once again with Chu Wanning's silence, Shi Mei smiled. "Forget it—it doesn't matter. You're in my hands now. And you'll never escape."
Chu Wanning's gaze seemed to shutter. Of his three disciples, Shi Mei had always been most mysterious to him. He'd accepted him as a student because he was gentle and respectful. He could empathize with the pain and worries of others, and he treated everyone kindly. Chu Wanning admired all these qualities, even more so because they were qualities he himself did not possess. Thus he had agreed to be Shi Mei's teacher.
But more than once, he'd felt that something wasn't right. For instance, Xue Zhengyong told him Shi Mei was an orphan he'd rescued from a war-torn area, yet little inconsistencies would often crop up when Shi Mei talked about his life before Sisheng Peak. It was exactly what one would expect from someone who'd made up a story and then forgotten the details. And sometimes Shi Mei's behavior would inexplicably change for an instant, like a well-trained beast who looked docile but couldn't stop his eyes from flashing at the scent of blood.
But after watching him closely all these years, Chu Wanning had never seen Shi Mei act disgracefully. He'd eventually concluded he was seeing things, that the flower before him was so splendid he'd mistakenly taken its dazzling colors for warning signs.
Chu Wanning was like a hedgehog. His whole body was covered in sharp quills, save for his soft underside. But he took in his disciples, took in all the people who showed him kindness, and tucked them under his velvety belly. He'd doubted whether he should trust Shi Mei. He'd had his reservations and tested the waters. But he'd still chosen to put his faith in him in the end. The knife plunged into the hedgehog's soft stomach from beneath, blood streaming over the ground.
"How much of the past life do you remember now?" Shi Mei asked.
Of course, he was answered yet again by silence. Shi Mei continued his interrogation: "You were getting along perfectly well staying out of it. Why'd you put yourself through all that suffering to stop me?" He had manifold grievances from the past lifetime. Now that Shi Mei finally had a chance to get answers, he couldn't pass up the opportunity. "You spared Emperor Taxian-jun's life. You even helped him transmigrate and be reborn. Why?"
At this last question, Chu Wanning at last looked up. "He's not like you."
Shi Mei hesitated. "How so? Perhaps I'm ruthless, but aren't his hands covered in blood?"
Chu Wanning stared at Shi Mei. "You know what you planted in his heart."
"So what? I might've planted the flower, but he's the one who killed all those people," Shi Mei retorted. "You saw it with your own eyes in the past life. He laid waste to the land. Xue Zhengyong, Wang Chuqing, Jiang Xi, Ye Wangxi… Who slaughtered them all in cold blood?"
Shi Mei lifted a languid hand, peering at his slender fingers and his neat, rounded nails. Those hands were clean and refined, unmarred by a single speck of dust. He slanted Chu Wanning a glance and laughed. "Surely, it wasn't me?"
Red-hot fury blazed up in his chest, rendering Chu Wanning temporarily speechless.
"I never wished to massacre Rufeng Sect or kill Xue Zhengyong. No one would come to me to avenge them," Shi Mei continued. "What have I done? I merely gave him a gu flower. I've never killed anyone as long as I've lived."
Shi Mei cheerfully concluded: "The knife was in his hands, and he drove it into their chests. It really has very little to do with me. The Flower of Eightfold Sorrows doesn't create new grudges. The curse can only amplify what was already there. All those desires were his own. It would be too unfair to blame me for his crimes."
Every word Shi Mei spoke heightened Chu Wanning's disgust. At the word unfair, Chu Wanning's eyes flashed, glacially cold. "What do you find unfair about it?"
"Those were all his actions. Why should Shizun blame me?"
"Don't you know what kind of person he really is?"
"Of course I do," replied Shi Mei. "I'm afraid Shizun's the one who's confused."
A thread of tangerine pith was stuck between two of Shi Mei's fingers. He produced a white silk handkerchief and gingerly wiped it away, then intoned, "Why did Mo Ran raze Rufeng Sect to the ground? Because his heart held hatred. Why did Mo Ran kill Xue Zhengyong? Because his heart held fear. Why did Mo Ran defile you? Because his heart held lust."
His gaze flicked over to Chu Wanning. "If someone stabbed him once, he could never forgive them. If someone gave him an inch, he'd take a mile. If a beauty stepped toward him, he'd have to have a taste. That's the kind of person he is."
"Shi Mingjing," said Chu Wanning through gritted teeth. "You erased all the kindness from his heart and amplified his grudges and impulses by a thousand, ten thousand times. Can you really say with a straight face that he wished to do all those things? Who wouldn't wish to destroy the world if they were consumed by hatred? You?"
"Whose fault is it that he held grudges? That he had greed carved into his bones? That he had those impulses in the first place?" Shi Mei laughed. "If his heart were pure, with no ill intentions, the Flower of Eightfold Sorrows would've had no effect. What happened was because his heart was filthy. He's simply a vulgar man."
The expression on Chu Wanning's face grew deeply ugly. Just as he drew breath to respond, Shi Mei added, "People are responsible for their own desires. That's an undeniable fact."
Chu Wanning had been ready to argue with him, but at this, he suddenly felt that there was nothing more to say. He turned away.
Shi Mei shook his head. "Shizun, you're always on his side. You think there's a reason, an explanation, behind everything he does."
"Tell me, then—whose explanations should I believe?" Chu Wanning asked icily. "Yours?"
Shi Mei was quiet for a turn, then chuckled. "So Shizun still likes him?"
Chu Wanning's eyes were like a frozen lake reflecting the cold moon.
"I've been trading blows with Shizun across two lifetimes. I still can't compare to him, even when I've won?"
"What is there to compare between the two of you?" Chu Wanning replied coolly.
Shi Mei narrowed his eyes. "Is that really what you think of me? Is there nothing else you wish to say?"
Chu Wanning didn't reply right away. He seemed to ponder the question in earnest. Then he lifted his lashes. "There is," he answered evenly.
Shi Mei broke into a smile. "What's that?"
"There's no need for you to compare yourself to Mo Ran," Chu Wanning said expressionlessly. "You aren't even worthy of comparison to Xu Shuanglin. He at least had real passion, and wasn't afraid to act on it. He wasn't like you, Hua Binan." He didn't even bother calling him Shi Mingjing anymore. "You're just a bastard."