A drop of dew dripped from the cypress leaves.
Mo Xi’s wide sleeves fluttered in the clear breeze. He stood on the Pine-and-Cypress Slope of the Martyrs’ Mausoleum on War Soul Mountain, gazing from afar at that small figure among the winding forest of memorial steles.
It was deep in the night of the first day, with stars hanging low across the four fields.
After his confrontation with Murong Lian, Gu Mang really did go from grave to grave on War Soul Mountain, kowtowing before each one. What Murong Lian had given him was clearly nothing more than humiliation, yet Gu Mang had taken it as a way out. With a stubbornness that even ten oxen could not pull back, he wanted to use this to prove that his determination had begun to sprout again.
“You really want to do this?”
“I do.”
“Even if it can’t change anything?”
“It can change something,” Gu Mang said. “At least I’ll feel a little better.”
Thus, Murong Lian knew she had succeeded, while Mo Xi knew that Gu Mang had made his choice and would not turn back.
Later, Murong Lian left, and Mo Xi also had to leave. Gu Mang knelt alone in the cemetery, kowtowing and bowing as birds chirped around him. Later, the tired birds returned to the woods, the setting sun fell, and the Wu Hook sword was cold with frost. Amid the absolute silence, the only movement in this city of the dead was Gu Mang, bowing and kowtowing again and again.
Later still, Mo Xi could not rest easy and returned alone to the summit of War Soul Mountain. It was inconvenient for him to show himself, so he stood on the Pine-and-Cypress Slope and watched that white figure from afar.
Gu Mang knelt for an entire night, and he watched beneath the trees for an entire night as well. When dawn broke and people came to sweep the graves and pay their respects, Mo Xi silently left too. He still had court affairs and could not remain at the Martyrs’ Mausoleum every moment.
Perhaps Murong Lian had deliberately fanned the flames, but the news of Gu Mang kowtowing before the heroic spirits on War Soul Mountain spread as if it had grown wings. Before the morning was even over, it had spread throughout Chonghua City.
“What scheme is that bastard plotting this time?”
“I heard he suddenly came to his senses. He thinks he did something wrong before and wants to atone for his sins.”
“Does he really have that kind of sincerity? Maybe it’s just a weasel paying respects to a hen.”
“Want to go take a look?”
The high-ranking nobles of Chonghua City had no free time during the day to go to War Soul Mountain looking for trouble. But there were still some idlers who, upon hearing the news, swarmed toward the Martyrs’ Mausoleum like mosquitoes smelling blood. They claimed they were going to sweep graves, but in reality, they simply wanted to see the spectacle with their own eyes.
Although these people would not directly make things difficult for Gu Mang out of consideration for Lord Xihe’s face, there was no shortage of sarcastic remarks.
Thus, while Gu Mang knelt, they covered their mouths with their sleeves and whispered among themselves:
“He really is kneeling quite properly. Back when he served guests at Lord Wangshu’s residence, I never saw him behave this well. How did Lord Xihe train him for half a year or so and make him this obedient?”
“Lord Xihe must have good methods.”
“If you ask me, everyone knows Lord Xihe only eats soft and not hard. That Gu fellow must have figured out Lord Xihe’s temperament too, so he’s pretending to repent, putting on an act, deceiving people and ghosts.”
“So that’s how it is! What you said makes sense. Ah, yes. If he really feels that guilty, why doesn’t he simply kill himself?”
“He really is still a liar!”
Gu Mang paid no attention to any of it. Amid their pointing and whispering, he climbed the steps, bowing as he went and repeatedly reciting the words Murong Lian had taught him:
“Traitor Gu Mang, ten thousand deaths cannot atone for my blood-soaked crimes.”
He recited them with such sincerity, as though those words were a spell for guiding the dead to rebirth, capable of ferrying his sinful soul across the boundless sea of suffering.
But there were too many people who hated him, too many who despised him. He struggled in the sea of suffering while those on the shore threw stones at him, telling him to go back, to drown, that this was the only ending he deserved in this lifetime.
Against this current, Gu Mang continuously repeated the motions of kneeling and bowing, his forehead striking the hard, cold stone surface thousands upon thousands of times. His steps were heavy, his body dejected, but his eyes shone brightly, supporting him as he climbed higher.
Bend his spine.
Lower his head.
“Traitor Gu Mang.”
He pressed his palms together devoutly, from the golden radiance of heaven and earth to the vast darkness of night.
“Ten thousand deaths cannot atone for my blood-soaked crimes…”
By the third day, dark clouds densely covered the sky, and a steady spring rain fell over Chonghua City. Gu Mang’s clothes were thin to begin with. After kneeling for so long amid the biting spring chill and miserable wind and rain, his body finally could not hold out any longer.
Using both hands and feet, he struggled to climb another level of stone steps and knelt before the first jade stele. His lips moved, wanting to speak, but he could no longer make a sound. Rainwater slid miserably down his face.
He raised his head and looked up at the imposing, solemn memorial stele of the heroic martyr.
“Seventh-generation Lord Wangshu, Murong Xuan. May his heroic spirit rest eternally.”
He had actually reached Murong Lian’s father…
Gu Mang looked at those solemn golden words. The inscription was so upright and pure, while he was like a puddle of mud, a handful of dust, curled up before a god. His lips trembled, and his throat, already barely capable of making a sound, moved as he struggled to whisper:
“Traitor Gu Mang…”
Spring thunder shook the heavens, its muffled roar like the sky itself had become a gigantic drum and been struck with tremendous force.
Trembling, Gu Mang raised his palms, which felt as heavy as if they had been filled with lead, and pressed them together before his forehead. Then he closed his eyes and curled up, hunched over as he knelt.
“Ten thousand deaths… cannot atone for my blood-soaked crimes…”
Thunder split the sky.
As though shattered by the might of that thunderbolt, Gu Mang did not rise again after this bow. Three days and three nights of kowtowing without sleep or rest had finally caused him to collapse unconscious.
Seeing him fall miserably into the rain, curled up before Murong Xuan’s grave, those who had originally come merely to watch the spectacle immediately crowded over like vultures smelling a corpse. They stared down at that ** frail body—everyone knew about the incident when Gu Mang had gone berserk, so while Gu Mang was conscious, they did not dare be too brazen, and even their words were mostly whispered. But now that Gu Mang was unconscious and utterly exhausted, some people’s courage grew.
“This dog of a slave. He claims he’s sincerely atoning, yet he collapses weakly before he’s even finished. Is he really unconscious or faking it?”
“Kick him once and you’ll know.”
Someone stepped forward and kicked Gu Mang’s pale cheek. After waiting a while and still seeing no response from Gu Mang—
“He really passed out!”
The crowd immediately erupted, like a breach had suddenly been torn open in a dam.
“He was told to come to War Soul Mountain to kowtow, not to come here and sleep!”
“He deserves a beating!”
It was rather interesting. Most of the people gathered on War Soul Mountain at this moment were not sons of military families or descendants of heroic martyrs. Those high-ranking nobles who truly had blood feuds with Gu Mang would not deliberately climb such a long mountain, huffing and puffing for an entire day just to watch a spectacle. They only wanted to see Gu Mang punished. If he could not be punished, they would rather not look at him at all. Just seeing him disgusted them.
As for the group of people who truly possessed power and ability—such as Princess Mengze, Jiang Fuli, Yue Juntian, and Murong Chuyi—nobles and capable ministers of that level were even less likely to wade into this muddy water.
Thus, birds of a feather flocked together. Those who deliberately gathered at the mountaintop to watch Gu Mang make a fool of himself were all flies and dogs of similar character. Most of them were incompetent and had nothing better to do. Gu Mang had no direct life debt to them, yet these people were even more emotionally agitated than the actual descendants of the heroic spirits, eager to stand up for justice.
And standing up for justice in this world could roughly be divided into two kinds.
One was truly unable to accept an injustice, with an actual matter to discuss.
The other was truly having nothing to do, so they went looking for trouble.
The people gathered around War Soul Mountain clearly belonged to the second kind. But besides these troublemakers, there were also a few genuine visitors who had come to War Soul Mountain to pay respects and sweep graves, and they happened to run into this scene.
Thus, amid the chaotic uproar, a child’s soft voice suddenly sounded. It was a crisp, childish voice carrying a sob, and she could no longer hold herself back.
“Uncles and aunties, can you… can you please stop hitting him…”
Before she could finish, a large hand covered her mouth.
Those people turned around. At first, they were somewhat startled, wondering whose daughter could actually dare to speak up and interfere so directly. They were even a little nervous, thinking, Could she be the daughter of some great noble family?
But when they saw who had spoken, their nervousness vanished faster than ripples on water, instantly replaced by vicious expressions.
“Lord Changfeng? What is your daughter going crazy about again?”
The child who had just spoken was Little Lan’er.
Little Lan’er had come to the mausoleum with her father today to sweep the graves. She had never expected to encounter such a scene.
Ever since she had fallen ill, she had been subjected to disdain everywhere. No one dared play with her, no one was willing to listen to her speak. Apart from her father, there was no one who would smile at her anymore.
Although she and Gu Mang had only exchanged a few words when they met at the Apothecary Residence, those few words—and that dragonfly that had rested by her temple—had been the first innocent, carefree happiness she had experienced in so many years.
Now, seeing this big brother being bullied like this, tears rolled down her cheeks uncontrollably.
Lord Changfeng hurriedly said, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
But those people refused to let it go and sneered:
“We were right to call your daughter a mad dog. She actually pleads for this kind of disgusting thing.”
“Control your daughter’s filthy mouth. The only reason she can still attend the academy is because we took pity on you and gave you a chance. If you don’t know what’s good for you, sooner or later we’ll dig out her spirit core and expel her from the academy!”
Someone went even further, speaking with vicious cruelty:
“Lord Changfeng, your daughter isn’t already a little perverted at such a young age, is she? Has she taken a liking to this dog?”
Such filthy words were something no normal father in the world could possibly endure.
But Lord Changfeng did not belong to the category of “normal.” He was a sika deer already driven to the edge of a cliff. Facing tigers and wolves sharpening their teeth and drinking blood, what could he do? No matter how angry he was, no matter how his heart tore with rage, no matter how violently he trembled, he could only force the flames of his anger down.
Even though the veins in his neck bulged, he could only accompany them with an ingratiating smile and nod meekly.
They were right. Little Lan’er could not afford even the slightest mistake anymore. At any moment, her spirit core could be dug out and she could be expelled from the academy.
Lord Changfeng apologized as he bowed, hurriedly picked up his daughter, and carried her away from this place of trouble.
Once they left the mausoleum, he removed his hand from Lan’er’s mouth, and the little girl began to cry.
She lay against his back and sobbed:
“Father, what exactly did that big brother do wrong…?”
Lord Changfeng stroked her hair.
“A capital crime. Treason, a capital crime. Lan’er, don’t say anything else.”
“Is there no way to forgive him?”
“His crime cannot be pardoned. There’s no way to forgive him.”
Lan’er’s tears flowed like beads from a broken string.
“But… but…”
Her father carried her down the mountain path. She rested against his shoulder, watching Gu Mang and that circle of people grow farther and farther away, becoming increasingly blurred in her sight.
A child knew nothing of the ways of the world, and even less did she know that Gu Mang had long since lost both his father and mother.
She sobbed:
“But if he’s like this… if his father and mother saw it… how painful would that be…”
If his father and mother saw it.
How painful would that be…
But Little Lan’er did not understand.
Gu Mang no longer had a father or mother. He had lost his family long ago. Then he had lost his brothers, his army, his glory, and his reputation.
Now, aside from a body covered in filth, he had nothing to rely on.
No one would hurt for him.
There were only people who would clap their hands in delight at his suffering.
No one cared about him.
And the only person who could accompany him was bound by the shackles of fate and status, already unable to act according to his own wishes.
——
“Lord Xihe.”
Inside the main hall of the Military and Political Office, Mo Xi had finished his official duties and was preparing to leave the royal city for War Soul Mountain.
During the days Gu Mang spent at the mausoleum, Mo Xi had dealt with military affairs as quickly as possible every day before going to the Pine-and-Cypress Slope to watch over Gu Mang from afar.
But today, an official stopped him.
“What is it?”
“An urgent report from the eastern border. His Majesty requests that you immediately go to the Golden Hall for a night conference.”
The hand that had been about to loosen the collar of Mo Xi’s military robe stopped.
The attendant was extremely perceptive and immediately sensed something unusual.
“Lord Xihe, do you have another urgent matter?”
“What is happening in the eastern border?”
“The Yun Kingdom has turned toward the Liao Kingdom and begun cultivating the Dark Demon Path. They have secretly accumulated a large number of Yin soldiers. The common people of three small towns in the eastern border have all been slaughtered…”
Mo Xi’s long, pale fingers straightened the collar of the military robe he had just loosened slightly.
“Report to His Majesty that after I organize the old records concerning the Yin soldiers, I will immediately go to the Golden Hall for the discussion.”
“Then we shall await Lord Xihe.”
Thus, the person in the Golden Hall spent the entire night without sleep, discussing matters by candlelight.
And the person on War Soul Mountain spent the entire night in unconsciousness, with no one attending to him.
The morning of the fourth day.
Gu Mang woke from unconsciousness.
He opened his eyes hazily. The sky had already cleared. He lay in a pool of accumulated rainwater, and the distant, clear blue sky seemed so close that he could touch it simply by raising a hand.
Gu Mang moved and felt that there were inexplicably several more wounds on his body, but he paid them no attention.
“Mm…” He rubbed a swollen bump on his head.
Had he hit it when he fainted?
Or had it swollen because he had knocked his head too many times…?
He could not figure it out, so he stopped thinking about it.
Only a dozen or so rows of memorial steles remained.
He slowly got up, scooped up some of the accumulated rainwater before Murong Xuan’s grave, did not mind the dirt, and slowly drank it down. Then, using both hands and feet, he climbed up and continued forward, kowtowing.
It was like the rain had passed and the sky had cleared. The clouds had become spacious and bright. He felt as though his sins had finally diminished by even the slightest amount.
He did not stop.
He knelt before the ghosts and vengeful spirits in his dreams.
He knelt before the past and the future.
One level, one jade step.
One stele, one dead person.
Mo Xi arrived half an hour later.
After staying up all night at the Military Affairs Office, more than twenty consecutive hours without closing his eyes had left his eye sockets red. When other people finished working through the night, they hurried home to rest. Yet he seemed possessed, carrying the breakfast prepared by the Military Affairs Office and coming alone to War Soul Mountain.
It was already the fourth day.
Gu Mang had been bowing here for four days.
Four days and four nights without sleep or rest might not have meant much to the former Marshal Gu. Marshal Gu had possessed the strongest spirit core, enough to sustain him as he burned like a torch, giving off light and heat for an extraordinarily long time.
But what did the current Gu Mang have left?
Only a damaged, broken body and a shattered soul.
Yet he still had to hold on.
Mo Xi silently watched Gu Mang from afar.
The nine thousand one hundred and sixty-first stele…
The nine thousand one hundred and sixty-second stele…
Gu Mang knelt.
And he counted them for Gu Mang.
Almost there.
Almost finished kneeling.
Around noon, Gu Mang finally climbed back to the memorial stele of Mo Xi’s father.
He looked like a little beggar who had rolled around in a muddy pit. His entire body was covered in mud and rainwater, his face was filthy, his forehead was split, and his knees were already bloody and raw.
Yet his eyes shone extraordinarily brightly.
Anyone who saw those eyes should not have doubted his sincerity or shattered his hope.
Gu Mang carefully kowtowed three times.
It was over.
He let out a heavy sigh of relief and staggered, trying to straighten himself. But because he had knelt for far too long, the moment he stood, he fell toward the ground—
But the pain he had expected never came.
Suddenly, a gust of wind swept past.
Someone caught him and pulled his mud-covered body into his arms. The scent on that person was faint, but it was the familiar fragrance of gardenia and honey that Gu Mang knew so well.
Though that person’s hand was desperately restraining itself, it trembled slightly.
Gu Mang turned his head and saw Mo Xi’s face.
Mo Xi had endured in the darkness all this time, suffering as he accompanied Gu Mang and waited for this act of atonement to end.
And he had waited a very, very long time for the moment when he could finally support Gu Mang after everything was over.
Gu Mang looked at Mo Xi, then at the hand Mo Xi had placed around his arm.
Slowly, a nearly relieved smile appeared on his dirty face.
But his brows and eyes suddenly curved, and hot tears rolled down his cheeks.
Knowing it was embarrassing, Gu Mang hurriedly wiped them away. He wanted to speak, but after repeating “Traitor Gu Mang, ten thousand deaths cannot atone for my crimes” tens of thousands of times, his throat moved, and for a moment he did not even know how to say anything else.
He could only look at Mo Xi while crying and smiling.
He was too stupid. His damaged mind could not turn fast enough, yet he desperately wanted to express himself.
In his flustered haste, Gu Mang raised his hand and poked his own chest.
“Do you understand… my heart now? I didn’t lie to you.”
Every word Gu Mang spoke was incredibly clumsy.
He tried hard to stretch his mouth into a smile, but tears rolled down first despite his efforts.
“I didn’t… lie.”
“…”
“It’s true… this time… everything is true…”
Mo Xi’s soul was nearly being torn in two by his selfish feelings and the hatred of his country’s enemies.
He could not say anything.
In the end, he silently helped Gu Mang over to the stone bench where people rested at the mountaintop.
Gu Mang gazed at the rows upon rows of jade memorial steles along the mountain steps and murmured:
“It’s good. I finished kneeling before all of them…”
The clear breeze at the mountaintop blew gently.
“I can start over again…”
At this moment, every word Gu Mang spoke was like a knife cutting into Mo Xi’s heart.
He lowered his head and placed a Nan bamboo food container on the stone bench.
He had taken this container directly from the dining hall of the Military and Political Office. Spirit power had been applied to it, allowing the flavors and warmth of the dishes to be preserved well inside.
He took the food out.
He did not look at Gu Mang and said quietly:
“Eat first.”
Congee of rice, straw mushrooms, and lean pork cooked by rolling boil; rice cakes; Dongpo braised pork with rich sauce that melted in the mouth; thin strips of cucumber with sweet bean paste; and several soft, fluffy steamed buns.
Mo Xi handed him the chopsticks.
Gu Mang did not take them.
He awkwardly extended his gray, grimy hands and tried to rub them against his clothes. When he found that he could not get them clean no matter how much he rubbed, he simply sat there blankly.
Mo Xi sighed.
He took out his own clean handkerchief, used a Water-Drawing Talisman to put some water onto it, and then said to Gu Mang:
“Give me your hands.”
“They’re dirty…”
Mo Xi did not say it a second time. He simply pulled Gu Mang’s hand over.
When their fingertips touched, he clearly felt Gu Mang’s hand tremble in his palm.
With his eyes lowered, Mo Xi slowly and carefully wiped Gu Mang’s hands with the damp handkerchief.
In the end, those hands were clean.
But his originally spotless handkerchief had become filthy.
Mo Xi said:
“Eat.”
Gu Mang looked at the steamed buns and meat.
He was truly starving. His throat swallowed.
“Can I eat the meat and buns without chopsticks?”
He raised the hand that had just been wiped clean for Mo Xi to see.
“Look. They’re clean.”
“…”
Mo Xi glanced at them. Those tiny scars on the clean palm appeared even more glaring.
He turned his gaze away and said:
“Just this once.”
Gu Mang immediately nodded.
Famished, he grabbed a steamed bun and took a huge bite.
Mo Xi himself had also gone the entire night without food or water, yet he continued watching him, desperately using a tone that sounded as though he did not care much.
“No one’s going to steal it from you.”
His response was Gu Mang’s pitiful, unstoppable manner of eating, along with an unintelligible whimper from his mouth stuffed full of steamed bun.
Mo Xi’s tone softened again.
“…Eat slowly.”
Another unintelligible throat sound came in response, blocked by steamed bun and braised meat.
It had been far too long since the two of them had been able to be alone together so peacefully.
For one brief moment, Mo Xi really wanted to touch his head as he had in the past.
But in the end, he only raised his hand.
It did not touch him.
Then he lowered it.
Yet even this tiny movement was noticed by Gu Mang.
Gu Mang misunderstood what he meant. He froze for a moment, his mouth still stuffed with steamed bun, but with trembling hands, he tore the remaining half apart.
Steam rose from it.
Gu Mang kept the smaller piece for himself and handed the larger one to him.
His cheeks were puffed out, and his blue eyes were clear as though washed by water.
“Are you hungry too?”