THE NEXT MORNING, sunlight scattered into the room through the window.
Chu Wanning opened his eyes. It was cozy under the covers; one person's heat was enough to keep two bodies warm. He gazed calmly at Mo Ran's face. In his eyes, this was the best and most handsome man in the world.
He didn't move. What kind of congee should I make today? he wondered. Yesterday's congee was gone. Mo Ran had devoured four bowls like a hungry ghost, leaving nothing behind. He kissed Mo Ran on the cheek. "I'll make you some more, okay?"
The man beside him seemed to be very soundly asleep. His pitch-dark lashes fanned over his cheek, soft as cattails. Perhaps they'd flutter open in the next instant, and Mo Ran would pull him over with a grin. "This venerable one's hungry," he'd say. "Wanning, go make me a bowl of congee."
Or perhaps he'd murmur to Chu Wanning, tender and besotted, "I love all Shizun's cooking. Whatever you make is the best."
But his body was cold. When Chu Wanning kissed his cheek, there was no warmth beneath his lips.
Chu Wanning didn't cry.
He got out of bed and smoothed the blankets over Mo Ran. Then he went out into the yard to get more firewood and lit the stove. Dutifully, he prepared and cooked the congee. The water reached a boil, sending up a great cloud of steam. The rice burbled and danced, tiny bubbles darting upward. He skimmed off the foam with a spoon and added salt, then covered the pot with a wooden lid to let it simmer.
Chu Wanning stood before the stove, his mind a vast blank. In one fleeting moment of clarity, it occurred to him that a person who'd already been reborn couldn't be brought back to life a second time using the Rebirth technique. That single thought was nearly enough to break him. He hastily willed his fingers to stop trembling, then reached up to take the lid off the pot.
If he made congee, it would definitely be eaten. He had all those fragments of Mo Ran's memories. Mo Ran had been penniless in his childhood. He'd never had enough to eat; a single steaming pancake was enough to make his day. Mo Ran wouldn't let congee go to waste. He'd wake up.
The congee was soon ready. Chu Wanning went out to the yard to sweep away some of the snow, then broke off another branch of wintersweet. Once inside, he trimmed its end and placed it in a small pot of dirt. The fragrance of the blossoms carried for miles. This way, the smell of the mortal realm could accompany Mo Ran on his journey.
No—he was getting confused again. What journey, what smell of the mortal realm? Mo Ran was lying here, perfectly fine, the same as yesterday and the day before and the day before that. It was only that his face was a little gaunter today, his complexion a shade paler.
But he would still wake up.
Over two lifetimes, from the moment they'd met, Mo Ran had never left him of his own accord, no matter if they'd been loathing and spiteful, or loving and compassionate. Mo Ran had gradually permeated his life, becoming the wind, the passing hours, the water flowing through his fingers, the veil of light on his hair. He was his sun and moon, his dawn and dusk; he was his world entire.
Chu Wanning was still slowly making his way through this world. Here, the snow would still fall, and the cicadas would still sing. The lotuses would die in the autumn, and the flowers would flourish in the summer. Everything would remain as it was, so how could Mo Ran possibly leave? Chu Wanning would watch over him, stay with him, each and every day, waiting for him to wake.
As fate would have it—just as Mo Ran had once linked Chu Wanning's body to his own in the past life—in this lifetime, Chu Wanning would follow in Taxian-jun's footsteps.
Back then, Mo Ran had stood in the Red Lotus Pavilion, clad head to toe in black. "Only on the day I die are you allowed to leave this world," he'd said to Chu Wanning in his everlasting slumber. "Stay with me."
Now, deep in Nanping Valley, the figure of Chu Wanning in his white robes seemed to meld with the figure of that bygone emperor. He reached out, touching Mo Ran's bloodless face. "Stay with me."
With a flash of golden light, his spiritual energy flowed into Mo Ran's body. No matter what transpired in heaven or hell or the mortal realm, as long as Chu Wanning yet remained upon this earth, Mo Weiyu's body would not decay. He would only truly perish if, many years from now, Chu Wanning passed away, and that supply of spiritual energy was snuffed out.
Then they would turn to dust, to ash, scattering on the wind and vanishing into the dirt.2
They would leave together.
Within the temple of Tianyin Pavilion, the fires blazed, casting sinuous shadows over the walls. Mu Yanli stood alone in the middle of the hall, eyes closed, hand clasped behind her back.
The doors opened, and a figure strode into the hall.
Mu Yanli didn't turn. "You're here?" she asked, affectless.
"I am." The newcomer lowered his hood to reveal a face of such beauty it could topple nations—Shi Mei. "Mu-jiejie, would you like to take a look at the rear hall?"
"There's not much to see," said Mu Yanli. "You're just cutting someone open and peeling them apart. It stinks of blood; I can't stand it."
"I'm afraid there's no way around that. All part of the medicine master's vocation," Shi Mei replied with a smile. "The room wouldn't smell like fresh flowers even if Guyueye's Jiang Xi were wielding the knife."
Mu Yanli knit her brows. She had no desire to talk more of surgeries and the like, and instead asked, "Be that as it may, you've been working on the spell for several days now. When is Taxian-jun going to be fully reborn?"
"He won't quite be reborn—he only has a cognizance soul. He'll still be a revenant at best."
Mu Yanli's lovely eyes narrowed and flicked to the side. "A revenant is all we need. The more obedient, the better." She paused. "What about those spiritual core fragments? Were they of any use?"
"They were—though incomplete, they're still extremely powerful," Shi Mei replied. "Mo Ran's talent for cultivation is truly unsurpassed. He can clear the way for us."
Mu Yanli sighed. "There'll be no mishaps this time I hope."
"It's too early to say," said Shi Mei. "I'm in the middle of repairing the spiritual core in Taxian-jun's body. It'll take another ten days at least. During this time, I was hoping that Mu-jiejie could do two things for me."
"Go on."
"First, as soon as Taxian-jun recovers, we'll complete the major undertaking we discussed. No matter how stupid these cultivators are, they'll eventually realize everything Mo Ran said was true. They'll probably band together to try and stop us." Shi Mei hesitated. "They're largely incompetent, but it'll become a headache if there are enough of them."
"And so?"
"The upper cultivation realm has plenty of firepower, but they lack experience. Sisheng Peak will be the key. I hope Mu-jiejie will sow a few rumors to drive a wedge between Sisheng Peak and the other sects. We'll bring Sisheng Peak down first."
"Chu Wanning abducted a prisoner, and Mo Weiyu escaped," said Mu Yanli. "Both of them are from Sisheng Peak, so it won't be hard to stir public sentiment against them. They've already become the target of criticism—many were calling for the sect to be dissolved. This is a simple matter. What's the second thing?"
"Second." Shi Mei heaved a sigh, almost rueful. "There's a man I'd like you to kill for me."
"Who?"
"Myself."
Mu Yanli whipped around to stare at him. Shi Mei's gentle features were bright in the firelight. "The version of you from this world?"
"Mn."
"Are you mad? How can you ask this? No matter what, he's still…"
She fell silent. Shi Mei had raised his feathery lashes to reveal the dark eyes beneath, seething with murderous intent.
"He's still me?" Shi Mei laughed. "You're not wrong. But he's a traitor."
Mu Yanli said nothing.
"If he hadn't set Chu Wanning free, would anyone have stolen Mo Ran from Tianyin Pavilion?" When Mu Yanli still didn't answer, he continued. "If he hadn't interfered with Taxian-jun, would Chu Wanning have been able to abscond with Mo Ran while he was half-dead?" His eyes glinted, cold and forbidding. "How lucky he learned some techniques behind my back. He covered his tracks pretty well for a blind man. He fled so fast he didn't leave me a chance to hack him to pieces."
"I know it was wrong of him," Mu Yanli said, unable to remain silent any longer. "But he's still a member of our clan."
"He and I are the same person. When these two worlds become one, one of me will be enough." Shi Mei ascended the steps and came to stand next to Mu Yanli. "Your other self died of an illness in the past lifetime. But having this world's Mu-jiejie helping me is just as good."
"But it's not as if you have no choice but to kill him. Our people have suffered enough." Mu Yanli stared at Shi Mei, fretful. "A-Nan, we made a promise. If someone is of our clan, we have to work together and help them. We can't sink to killing our own."
Shi Mei shifted his gaze to the leaping flames. After a long silence, he replied, "When we were on Mount Jiao, I thought the same. I've doubted plenty of people, but I never doubted him. Yet that only gave him an opportunity to turn against me. We two aren't the same anymore," Shi Mei said calmly. "I'm still Hua Binan and Shi Mingjing." He closed his eyes and sighed. "But what about him? He only remembers that he's Shi Mingjing. He's forgotten Hua Binan."
The fire sputtered, orange sparks spraying into the air.
Mu Yanli shook her head. "I can't do what you ask. He's already lost his eyes for our sake. We won't take him in again, but Chu Wanning and the others won't accept him either—he has nowhere to go; his hands are tied. Why are you in such a rush to get rid of him? Because he betrayed you? Or because he chose a different path from you in the end?"
Shi Mei didn't answer right away. After a moment, he smiled. "You've always been ruthless and decisive. Why've you suddenly gone soft?"
Mu Yanli's head jerked up, her eyes glittering with pain. "Because he's also my little brother. He's also you."
This flash of human emotion seemed to thaw the ice in her eyes, suddenly less cold and stony than before. "A-Nan, it doesn't matter if it's the past or present lifetime, it doesn't matter how you might change. I couldn't possibly turn against you. I can't do it."
The flames shimmered in the brazier, dancing upward like streamers of red silk. Shi Mei sighed again. "Forget it. This is a personal matter anyway. If you don't want to do it, I'll let it go. But the first task is of utmost importance. I ask Mu-jiejie to tend to it diligently."
Mu Yanli closed her eyes.
The evening bell began to toll, its sober peals echoing from the top of the pavilion. The bell had hung there since the founding of Tianyin Pavilion thousands of years ago, and its sound was as majestic as ever. Amidst its lingering tones, Mu Yanli said slowly, "I understand. Don't worry."
The night after the conversation in Tianyin Pavilion, several people were murdered in quick succession at Bitan Manor in the upper cultivation realm. Before the case could be investigated, Huohuang Pavilion, Wubei Temple, and Guyueye were similarly struck. An isolated act of terror quickly became a widespread phenomenon.
Soon, everyone realized what connected these crimes: Zhenlong chess pieces. There were chess pieces everywhere—in small villages and towns, in big cities and great sects. No place seemed to be excepted. These mindless pawns grew more and more numerous, killing people and torching buildings everywhere. All the cultivation realm's sects had their hands full, and none had energy to spare for the commoners. Day after day, the rivers ran red with blood, and cities turned to ghost towns. The scale of the destruction far exceeded that of any Heavenly Rift.
No one was sure who was behind the violence, or how to bring an end to the massacres. A great many cultivators suspected that Chu Wanning and Mo Ran, whose whereabouts were unknown, must somehow be the perpetrators of these acts of terror. Others, however, remained doubtful.
A group of refugees gathered in an abandoned temple discussed the matter among themselves.
One remarked, "I have no problem believing Mo Ran's behind all this trouble. But why would Chu Wanning help him?"
"Who knows? Maybe he wants a piece of the pie."
"I doubt it's that simple," someone else piped up. "You all saw what happened at the sentencing grounds—would those two have been so distraught if they were just an ordinary master and disciple? If you ask me, Chu Wanning and Mo Ran's relationship is far from normal."
"Ah… What do you mean?"
"I mean they're cut-sleeves. That teacher is definitely sleeping with his student."
The words that passed their lips were unsparingly slanderous and obscene. Astonishment and revulsion appeared on the faces of the whole group. "Surely not?" someone muttered. "He's the Beidou Immortal…"
"Don't forget—when Chu Wanning died after repairing that Heavenly Rift, wasn't Mo Ran the one who made the dangerous journey into the underworld to save him? Everyone says they have a deep master-disciple bond, but he could have died doing that! If it were you, would you be willing to do it?"
Everyone fell silent. One of the bean pods roasting over the fire burst, emitting a sharp pop.
"And there was that time on Mount Jiao—did you hear about that? Before Shi Mingjing was abducted, there was something he said."
"What did he say?"
"I can't remember the exact words. It was a tense situation; most of us didn't think much of it at the time. But looking back, it seemed like he was implying something."
Someone countered with a scowl, "But I heard Shi Mingjing is actually Hua Binan—can we trust anything he said?"
"Bullshit!"
Everyone jumped at this angry shout. They turned to see a man with eyes bulging in fury. "Don't tell me you actually believe that! Mo Ran was clearly just trying to drag Shi Mingjing's name through the mud!"
"Li-xiong, why are you so worked up about this…"
"How could I not be?" the man retorted. "Shi Mingjing saved my life!"
"Ah…"
"I was at Mount Jiao too, you know! Hua Binan used gu insects on us called heart-tunnelers. If it weren't for Shi Mingjing undoing the spell with optomancy, I would've died up there! If my savior was actually Hua Binan, why would he go to the trouble of lifting our curses?"
The burly man grew increasingly agitated as he spoke, until his eyes were damp with tears. "He saved us, but what did that get him? Hua Binan blinded him; he could be dead for all we know, yet he's still getting slandered by Mo Ran. I… I'm outraged on his behalf!"
The man broke down into raucous sobs. The others in the temple didn't know what to do. They all exchanged glances.
On one side was Shi Mingjing and Tianyin Pavilion; on the other, Mo Weiyu and Chu Wanning. Both had cause for others to doubt them, but the second was far more suspicious.
A lady cultivator gazing into the spitting flames was next to speak up quietly. "Actually…I was part of the group that confronted Xu Shuanglin at Mount Jiao too. I saw how both Shi Mingjing and Mo Ran acted that day. In my eyes, neither seem like bad people."
"But surely, between the two of them, one of them must be lying."
The lady cultivator shook her head. "It's not for me to say who's lying—I don't want to make false accusations. But I will mention something I saw with my own eyes."
All eyes in the temple turned to her in curiosity. Slightly embarrassed, she cleared her throat. "At the time, everyone was injured, and Mo Ran and Chu-zong… Chu Wanning weren't in great shape either. They were sitting off to the side, resting. I happened to glance over when Mo Ran sneakily reached out…and touched Chu Wanning's face."