Blood dripped down, one drop at a time.
Murong Lian clutched his shoulder. The silk fabric of his robe was quickly soaked through, crimson seeping between his fingers. Those around him paled at the sight and stammered, “M-My Lord…”
No one had expected that the one injured in the end would actually be Murong Lian.
The people of Wangshu Manor instantly descended into chaos.
“Get medicine! Hurry and bring the Healing Spirit Powder!”
“Quick! Quick! A tourniquet! A tourniquet!”
Murong Lian’s face was ashen. He had no idea what had happened. Just as the dagger plunged down, a red lotus totem had suddenly surfaced at the side of Gu Mang’s neck. Immediately after, a burst of spiritual energy exploded around him, and dozens of invisible swords of light shot up in an instant. Not only had they knocked the dagger from Murong Lian’s hand, they had even blasted him backward several zhang.
Murong Lian could not speak for a moment. He bit down hard on his lower lip, his face alternating between pale and flushed. After a while, blue light gathered in his palm, barely stopping the bleeding. Then, half embarrassed and half furious, he shouted, “Gu Mang!!”
Gu Mang had already taken advantage of the chaos to run behind a table. At this moment, he was rubbing his bare feet, baring his teeth in both alarm and innocence. His eyes were fixed on Murong Lian, while those swords of light continued to rise and fall around him, protecting him tightly at the center of the formation.
After a moment of silence, someone in the crowd—a young nobleman who had previously gone to Luomei Villa looking for Gu Mang—suddenly reacted and cried out, “Ah! So it’s this formation!”
“What formation?” Murong Lian snapped. “If you know, then spit it out!”
“This formation… I only learned of it by accident, and honestly it’s a bit awkward to explain…”
“Speak!!”
“Yes, Lord Wangshu! It’s like this!” The young nobleman hurriedly replied upon seeing Murong Lian’s anger. “This formation won’t activate if you attack him with spells or high-grade weapons. But if you use ordinary summoned weapons or physical force to hurt him, and he feels very frightened, then countless swords of light will erupt from his body. That’s also…” He looked embarrassed as he forced himself to continue. “That’s also why no one at Luomei Villa has ever really been able to do anything to him…”
Murong Lian’s anger still had not subsided. He glared hatefully at Gu Mang across the table.
“What kind of idiotic, laughable formation is this?!”
The young nobleman shook his head. “Gu Mang used to be a genius in spellcraft. Back then he created who knows how many original incantations. A lot of them were ridiculously pointless—good for making girls giggle, but useless for anything else. This one might just be something he made for fun in his younger days.”
At that, everyone else also remembered.
Even now, the library of the cultivation academy still housed some scrolls Gu Mang had scribbled on in his youth. They contained all sorts of bizarre little spells—ones that could instantly heat cold dishes, ones that could turn oneself into a cat for the duration of one incense stick, and even one that could conjure a ball of fire small enough to tuck into one’s robes in winter for warmth.
The most famous among them was a spell called “Everything the General Says Is Right.”
Legend had it that when Gu Mang was younger, he often skipped long, boring military meetings. To keep the commander from noticing, he invented this spell to transform a block of wood into a copy of himself, leaving it sitting obediently in place to listen to the general’s endless lectures while he slipped away to enjoy himself elsewhere.
“Now that I think about it, it really is possible.”
“Yeah. Protecting against punches but not spells—what nonsense. Obviously not a serious protective formation.”
“Gu Mang always loved messing around with weird nonsense. But he really lucked out this time. Such a silly little spell actually protected him.” Someone chuckled. “Otherwise, he’d probably have been screwed to death in bed by now. Plenty of people in Chonghua want to sleep with him. Too bad no one’s ever been able to break this formation.”
Yue Chenqing scratched his head and muttered, “Damn, what kind of formation is this? The unattainable flower formation?”
“Oh please, Gu Mang? An unattainable flower?” Another young nobleman laughed and lowered his voice to joke with Yue Chenqing. “Might as well turn it into a couplet.”
“Gu Mang, unattainable flower.” Yue Chenqing asked with interest, “Then what’s the second line?”
“Commander Mo Xi, debauched and romantic.”
Yue Chenqing slapped his thigh and burst into laughter. “Hahahaha! It doesn’t even match properly, but—”
“What are you laughing at?!”
Murong Lian suddenly interrupted. Humiliated and furious, he snapped, “No manners whatsoever. Be careful or I’ll make life difficult for your father!”
“I wasn’t laughing! How would I dare?” Yue Chenqing hurriedly said. “By the way, as long as Lord Wangshu can be happy, forget making life difficult for my father—even if you make him wear women’s shoes, that’s fine too!”
Murong Lian glared at him. Thinking of how tonight’s banquet had brought him no glory but instead left him with an ugly wound and damaged his dignity, he felt deeply humiliated. He turned and said hatefully:
“Where are the attendants?!”
“At your command, my lord!”
Murong Lian flicked his sleeve and pointed at Gu Mang.
“Take this stupid pig away. I don’t want to see him again. Also, transfer a few clever and obedient servants from Luomei Villa. As for punishment—”
He ground his teeth, his peripheral vision catching Mo Xi’s face.
For some reason, after seeing that formation, Mo Xi’s expression had turned strange. He had also glanced at the side of Gu Mang’s neck several times.
“Commander Mo… don’t you have anything to say?”
“…”
Mo Xi returned to himself. He withdrew his gaze from Gu Mang and crossed his arms.
“Wasn’t Lord Wangshu planning to show generosity and gift Gu Mang to me?”
Murong Lian froze, then shamelessly said, “Just talk. His Majesty ordered me to deal with him. How could I casually transfer ownership?”
Mo Xi had already known Murong Lian was the type whose words meant nothing. Things like a gentleman keeping his promises were meaningless to him. Besides, the whole matter had always been absurd. Unless His Majesty personally revoked the decree, no one could alter it.
He lifted his eyes to meet Murong Lian’s aggressive stare.
“If that’s the case, then Lord Wangshu should handle his own man. Why ask me?”
“Since that’s what you say.” Murong Lian sneered and turned to order, “Take him away. Give him eighty lashes. Cut his food rations for one month.”
He paused, then added darkly:
“If he starves to death, it’s his own fault.”
“……”
Gu Mang was dragged away.
Servants from Wangshu Manor came to clear the wrecked tables and replace them with fresh dishes. The night banquet resumed.
Amid all the discussion and sighing, only Mo Xi remained silent.
As cups were raised once more around him, he lifted his gaze again, staring at the place where Gu Mang had been taken away. Hidden where no one could see, his fingers slowly clenched.
Mo Xi disliked drinking.
He hated being drunk even more.
But that day, after returning from Wangshu Manor, he sat alone in the quiet courtyard of his estate, opened a jar of aged wine, and drank cup after cup until the jar was empty.
As he gazed at the crescent blade-like moon hanging in the sky, clouds parting and snow clearing, he suddenly asked the steward standing beside him:
“Li Wei. How many years have you served me?”
“Replying to my lord—seven years.”
Mo Xi murmured, “Seven years…”
Seven years ago, he had pursued the traitorous Gu Mang deep into enemy territory and been stabbed through the chest by him, left hovering on the edge of death. He had lain unconscious in bed then, and Li Wei had been sent by royal order to care for him at Xihe Manor.
So much time had already passed.
Mo Xi thought bitterly: then why exactly can’t I let go?
And why can’t I forget?
The wine had gone to his head slightly.
He did not want to lose control, so when Li Wei moved to refill his cup, he shook his head.
Li Wei complied.
Unmoved by beauty, unshaken by wine—people truly capable of perfect self-restraint before temptation were rare. Mo Xi was one of them.
“What do you think of Gu Mang and me?” Mo Xi suddenly asked.
Li Wei froze for a moment, then hesitated.
“…Not… very compatible?”
“…Two men, and you’re talking about compatibility? I think you’ve drunk too much too.” Mo Xi glared at him. “Answer again.”
Li Wei quickly understood and laughed awkwardly.
“Oh. Your relationship? Everyone knows it’s bad.”
“What about before?”
“Before…” Li Wei thought for a moment. “I didn’t have the honor of serving at your side back then. But I heard you and Commander Gu were fellow disciples at the academy and comrades in the military—the empire’s twin commanders. And then… well, I don’t know much else. Some say you two were close. Others say Commander Gu was warm to everyone, so perhaps he wasn’t particularly close to you either. Something like that.”
Mo Xi nodded without comment.
Fellow disciples.
Comrades in the military.
The kingdom’s two commanders.
That was most people’s impression of the relationship between Mo Xi and Gu Mang.
There seemed nothing wrong with it.
Li Wei asked curiously, “Then what was it really like?”
“Gu Mang and me?” Mo Xi actually smiled faintly.
His lowered lashes hid something bitter in that smile.
“Hard to say. Impossible to explain.”
After a pause, he said slowly:
“And not something that should be spoken of.”
No one in Chonghua would believe it.
To the Mo Xi of the past, Gu Mang had been like clear spring water to a traveler dying of thirst.
Before meeting Gu Mang, Mo Xi had ambition, responsibility, and unwavering resolve. He feared no hardship.
But what filled his heart more than anything was hatred.
As a youth, he had treated everyone with sincerity.
What had he received in return?
His father died in battle.
His mother betrayed him.
His uncle brought chaos.
The servants all watched which way the wind blew—calling him young master to his face while secretly serving his uncle.
He looked around him and found not a single person he could trust.
Back then, he could not understand what he had done wrong to deserve such cruelty from fate.
That was when he met Gu Mang.
Gu Mang at that time had been so kind.
So righteous.
Even as a slave, bearing a status low enough to be ground into dust, he never resented anyone. Never blamed anyone.
When they first hunted demons together, Mo Xi’s temper had been terrible, and he often clashed with him.
But Gu Mang always accepted it with a grin.
He was always understanding others’ hardships, even when his own life was already so difficult.
He always tried to breathe in every tiny scrap of kindness life offered him.
Then he would struggle with all his strength to make a tiny flower bloom.
When he impersonated Murong Lian to buy medicine, he had known he would be punished.
He might even lose his right to study at the academy.
Yet he did it anyway.
After the incident, kneeling on the academy’s repentance platform, Gu Mang offered no explanation. He only shamelessly said he had done it because it seemed fun.
But what slave would ruin his hard-earned chance at advancement for fun?
Clearly, it was because he had personally seen those villagers suffer year after year from plague and disease.
He couldn’t bear it.
But he was too lowly.
So lowly that even if he bowed to the ground and softly said, I just wanted to save people, he would only be mocked.
Even if he tore open his burning chest and showed them the heart inside—aching so badly it nearly killed him—they would only sneer at his passion, question his goodness, ridicule his overestimation of himself, and laugh at his trembling sincerity.
He knew all of that.
So he did not argue.
People said: when prosperous, help the world; when poor, preserve oneself.
Yet there he was—a mere slave of Wangshu Manor, unable even to guarantee his next meal, instead of worrying about pleasing his master, choosing to shoulder the burden of healing the dying and saving the wounded.
What a ridiculous clown, overestimating himself.
And yet it was precisely that ridiculous courage—
that burning heart full of passion—
that pulled Mo Xi, who had already lost all faith in human nature, back onto the right path.
“My lord.”
Lost in thought, Mo Xi heard Li Wei speaking beside him.
“The night is deep and the dew is heavy. You should rest.”
Mo Xi did not respond immediately.
His hand still rested against his brow, partly shielding his eyes.
At the sound of Li Wei’s voice, he turned slightly. His fingers trembled faintly, as if wiping something away.
After a while, he spoke softly.
“Li Wei.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“…Tell me.”
He paused before speaking.
“Do you think…” he said slowly, “there’s a chance Gu Mang never lost his memory at all?”
“That he’s pretending?”