Inside Yifang Pavilion, coils of incense smoke curled languidly through the air. Soft crimson carpets covered the floor, and an eight-panel Xiang bamboo folding screen stood wide open, revealing the vermilion-lacquered carved railings of the terrace beyond.
Outside the terrace, a paulownia tree was in bloom, its branches filled with a haze of pale pink and lavender blossoms.
His Senior Brother Gu was leaning against the wooden railing, one leg bent at the knee and the other stretched straight out. In his hand was a long suona horn of a rusty bronze color.
The suona radiated a dim bronze sheen all over, with soft white silk tied around its handle, fluttering wildly in the evening breeze.
Shenwu Fengbo.
Amid the shadows of the flowers, Gu Mang held Fengbo, pressed his lips to the mouth of the suona, and tested the notes. Then, closing his eyes, he blew out a string of hoarse, mournful melodies.
“Once there was a young man who took up his sword and left, his blue blood sinking into the sands… his bones unable to return.”
What Gu Mang had once been best at was clearly that crooked, rough accent of a local ruffian. Yet the melody drawn from the suona at this moment was so desolate and sorrowful. His cheeks puffed up, his lashes trembled slightly, and he raised his head into the fading sunlight among the shadows of the flowers, blowing the suona note after note.
“This corpse still bore a jade-like face last year; this body laughed and talked only last night…”
The sound pierced the clouds and passed through the sun.
Mo Xi said nothing. It felt as though the world’s most bitter olive were lodged in his throat. He stood at the doorway, gazing from afar at Gu Mang’s profile, as though looking upon a dream separated from him by an entire lifetime.
The pipa girl heard the faint movement outside. She turned her head and immediately widened her eyes in fright, about to kneel, but Mo Xi waved a hand at her, signaling her not to make a sound.
Gu Mang was completely absorbed in the music. His lips around the mouthpiece were a healthy red, and because he was playing with all his strength, his cheeks puffed into an adorable little bulge. The setting sun illuminated his handsome, refined features, dyeing his ink-black hair with a faint layer of mature-gold color.
He sat sideways on the vermilion railing, playing as he turned his head to take in the flowers blooming and falling beyond the terrace, the evening sun rolling toward dusk. The pure-white silk tied to the suona fluttered beside his hand like waves of the sea.
“You leave behind your loyal heart, and I shall reflect it with mine. You preserve your noble spirit, and I shall carry it on.”
His slender, elegant fingers pressed upon the mottled suona, flowing as gently as the softest breeze in the world.
“…The day the heroic spirit returns to its homeland, there shall be nowhere beneath heaven… that is not a green mountain.”
Only when the piece was nearing its end did Gu Mang slowly open his eyes. Turning his head, he smiled and said, “See? This is how you keep the tune from going astray, so you…”
He stopped halfway through his sentence when he suddenly noticed the pipa girl’s stiff, frightened expression.
Gu Mang abruptly fell silent. He looked around and then saw Mo Xi, who had appeared in the room at some unknown point.
His smile froze.
“…”
After a brief silence, Gu Mang gathered his expression, adjusted himself once more, and spun the instrument between his long fingertips. With a teasing tone, he said to Mo Xi, “Lord Xihe is in quite the elegant mood today. You actually came to this pleasure house too.”
Mo Xi heard an astonishingly hoarse voice.
After a moment, he realized that the person who had spoken in that voice was himself.
He said to the pipa girl, “Leave.”
“Yes.”
Gu Mang said to the pipa girl, “Stop.”
Songstress: “…”
Gu Mang smiled and tilted his head slightly.
“Lord Xihe, you’re awfully overbearing. I paid for this girl to accompany me for the entire night. How can you simply chase her away because you say so? Did you ask for my opinion?”
Mo Xi endured the violent emotions surging within his chest and said hoarsely, “Gu Mang. There are some things I want to discuss with you privately.”
“Discuss what?” Gu Mang said. “A man and another man alone together in the same room—there’s no way to explain that properly. Besides, you’re a rising star, while I’m a river at the end of its course. What could the two of us possibly have to talk about?”
“Gu Mang!”
Gu Mang raised his hand and waved Fengbo away. The suona transformed into countless specks of radiance, merging into his flesh and blood.
He jumped down from the vermilion railing, folded his arms, and lowered his eyes with a faint smile.
“Beauty, don’t make a fuss. You’re rising higher and higher these days, having won the full favor of Princess Mengze. If you keep fooling around with a notorious libertine like me, it’ll damage your reputation. You and I have been brothers for so many years, after all. Your big brother here would feel sorry for you.”
That familiar, oily, slippery tone rang once again in Mo Xi’s ears.
It wasn’t a dream.
It wasn’t an illusion.
It was truly Gu Mang—the Gu Mang from eight years ago, whom he could see and touch.
The Gu Mang who was distancing himself from him.
Mocking him.
Resisting him.
This smiling man had perhaps already planned to betray the kingdom and leave before long.
That realization transformed into an overwhelmingly powerful impulse, violently pounding against Mo Xi’s chest.
Mo Xi’s eyes suddenly reddened.
“I won’t leave.”
Having said that, he repeated to the pipa girl once more, “Leave.”
Gu Mang raised an eyebrow slightly.
“Did you not understand what I said before? I’ve already paid for her entire night. If you chase her away, then who will accompany me through this long night?”
“I will stay here the whole time,” Mo Xi said.
“?”
Gu Mang blinked his dark eyes.
“Do you know how to play the pipa?”
“…No.”
“Can you sing little songs?”
“No.”
“Then what do I need you for?” Gu Mang laughed. “You’re not even worth what I paid for her.”
Mo Xi did not argue with his nonsense. He only said, “Gu Mang. I’m not going to the northern border today.”
Gu Mang tilted his head, the infuriatingly thin smile still lingering at the corners of his lips.
“Mm. That’s a good thing. But what does that have to do with me?”
“It has to do with you. Give me one more night. There are some things I need to say. If I don’t say them now—”
Mo Xi paused and gazed into Gu Mang’s eyes.
“I’m afraid there won’t be another chance afterward.”
Perhaps because he knew that Gu Mang already harbored thoughts of betrayal, carefully observing every subtle expression on the person before him allowed him to notice that Gu Mang’s expression changed ever so slightly when he heard those words.
Gu Mang lowered his lashes.
“I have no interest in handling affairs today. I only wish to lose myself in wine and romance. If you truly want to talk to me, there’s still a long road ahead. Wait until you return and we’ll talk then.”
“I won’t be able to wait until that day.”
Silence descended.
The pipa girl was caught between the two men, unable to advance or retreat. She could only pretend to be a wooden statue, not daring to say a word or move an inch.
After a long while, Gu Mang lowered his head and seemed to give a soft laugh, or perhaps a long sigh.
“Why must you keep pestering me? I already have nothing left.”
“I only want to talk with you a little longer.”
Gu Mang smiled as he drove those words, cruel as knives, one after another into Mo Xi’s heart.
“What is there left to say? Your Senior Brother can no longer give you anything. Princess, please, I only want to have a little fun, to make myself happy. Leave. Let me go.”
If the Mo Xi from eight years ago had heard those words, perhaps he would have been deceived just like that. Perhaps he really would have believed that Gu Mang was merely hurt and miserable, that he only wanted to play and enjoy himself, and that eventually he would heal.
But unfortunately, the person standing before Gu Mang now was Mo Xi from eight years later.
What Gu Mang called “having a little fun” sounded in Mo Xi’s ears like an indescribable mixture of heartbreak and mockery.
Mo Xi said hoarsely, “Just this one night. Give it to me.”
Gu Mang sighed.
“Don’t speak so ambiguously. You still have a long road ahead of you. You need to pay attention to your reputation…”
“Do I still have a reputation?”
Silence.
Even the pipa girl abruptly raised her head in shock, only to immediately turn deathly pale and lower herself to the floor, trembling.
Gu Mang finally withdrew that maddening, devil-hating smile. His gaze grew deep as he looked at him—at Mo Xi standing before him with an expression that was almost obsessive and gritted with anger.
Gu Mang said softly, “What kind of crazy thing are you saying?”
“You know perfectly well what I’m talking about.”
“…”
Gu Mang, who had not yet undergone the remolding, was sharp and intelligent, almost like a demon. He had always been able to see straight through his Junior Brother Mo’s heart with ease.
But today, looking at this person before him, he suddenly felt strange.
He couldn’t see through him.
He had originally wanted to say something to anger him and drive him away, but Mo Xi stood there glaring fiercely at him. In those sharp eyes were pain and fear that Gu Mang couldn’t understand…
And even grievance.
Yes.
Grievance.
Gu Mang almost found himself at a loss when he realized this.
And Mo Xi’s eyes had already reddened.
Clenching his back teeth, Mo Xi restrained the moisture in his eyes and said hoarsely, stubbornly, “I lost my innocence long ago. I don’t care about innocence anymore. You can’t drive me away.”
“…………”
The more Gu Mang listened, the more helpless and uneasy he became.
In the end, Gu Mang finally softened. Unable to overcome him, he sighed and turned his head toward the pipa girl.
“Miss Feitian, I’m sorry. There’s a lunatic here. Please step outside for a while.”
Miss Feitian could not have been happier to comply. After bidding them farewell, she practically fled from Yifang Pavilion.
Inside the soft, languidly fragrant room, where the fine incense was burning, only the two of them remained.
Gu Mang returned from the terrace to the room. He raised his hand and closed the wooden doors connecting to the terrace. Then he turned around, moved his fingertips, and lit the candle flames on the bronze crane stand.
After doing all this, he walked directly toward Mo Xi, breaking through the normal distance between them without the slightest hesitation.
He walked straight toward Mo Xi until only a few inches remained between them.
Gu Mang lifted his face. His dark, deep eyes carried inquiry beneath a layer of provocation. With every breath, the rise and fall of their chests could be felt between their noses.
He raised a hand and gently pinched Mo Xi’s sharply defined chin.
Softly, he said, “All right. Look. The girl I paid for has left. It’s all because you made a fuss. Are you satisfied now?”
He examined Mo Xi’s face with the same critical gaze a courtesan might use when appraising a customer. After a while, his gaze lowered, fixing upon Mo Xi’s thin lips.
He raised his thumb and brushed it over those soft lips, gently rubbing them.
Gu Mang murmured slowly, “Since you’re being so proactive, rushing over here to compete for favor, then… I’ll let you accompany me for one last night. After tonight, Princess, we’ll each mind our own business. Don’t pester each other anymore.”
After saying this, he suddenly grabbed Mo Xi by the lapel and pulled him over, then abruptly kissed him—!
A muffled groan.
His moist lips had already captured the slightly cool ones. His nimble tongue slipped into Mo Xi’s mouth and stirred fiercely, like a butterfly gathering nectar, drawing out his breath and warmth.
Although Senior Brother Gu’s tone was harsh and his manner cold and heartless, when they kissed, Gu Mang had almost always been the one to take the initiative, and he enjoyed it. He would rub against him with moist, full lips, tempt him with his fine, thick lashes, and press his firm, lean waist and abdomen against him passionately, as though he were willing to merge completely with Mo Xi.
But in truth, it was only as though.
Gu Mang’s indulgence had caused Mo Xi to misunderstand him at first, then made Mo Xi intoxicated, but in the end, what it left Mo Xi with most of all was pain.
Mo Xi still remembered the night he came of age, when their flesh and blood first joined together. His heart had still been steeped in honey then. He thought Gu Mang loved him too. He thought that from then on, he could firmly lock his Senior Brother at his side and make him his own.
But Gu Mang told him that it had merely been a moment of foolishness.
Later, they had their “moments of foolishness” many times. Gu Mang had repeatedly been reduced to dazed helplessness by him, entangled with him like soft spring water, involuntarily saying in his bed that he liked him, saying in his arms that he was willing to continue like this with him, saying under his gaze that he loved him.
Yet whenever the clouds of passion dispersed, Gu Mang would turn cold and heartless again, callously saying that it had merely been a moment of pleasure.
And so, time after time, Mo Xi obtained his flesh and blood, almost prying open the shell to expose all the softness hidden within.
Yet amid such intimate and lingering entanglement, he became increasingly lost and increasingly heartbroken.
He had always been waiting for Gu Mang to believe in him.
Always hoping that Gu Mang would treat him sincerely.
But no matter how many times they became entangled, no matter what kind of nonsense Gu Mang trembled out in moments of passion, when dawn broke, Gu Mang would never acknowledge the feelings between them.
So Mo Xi couldn’t understand.
He couldn’t understand why, if Gu Mang clearly didn’t love him, he could still embrace him so intimately.
Why, if he clearly had no intention of spending his whole life with him, he could still rejoice together with him again and again.
And even more incomprehensible was why, at this very moment, when Gu Mang had already begun to harbor thoughts of betrayal, he could still embrace and kiss him so recklessly—
When he had clearly… already wanted to leave.
When he had clearly already considered leaving him, becoming enemies of different masters, and crossing swords against each other.
Why could he still be so calm and composed…
“Ah!”
Gu Mang suddenly pushed Mo Xi away. Covering his lips, he stared at him as though he had seen a ghost.
“Are you a dog? Why did you bite me?!”
Mo Xi’s eyes were wet and red. His face carried humiliation and anger, hatred and sorrow. Under the flickering candlelight, he stared at Gu Mang’s face.
After a long while, he abruptly forced out a single sentence:
“What exactly do you take me for?”
“…You’re the one who wanted to replace Miss Feitian and stay to accompany me.”
After saying this, Gu Mang paused, wanting to add something more. But then he caught sight of the grievance on Mo Xi’s face.
Looking at this young man standing before him, trying to restrain himself yet unable to suppress the rise and fall of his chest, Gu Mang suddenly found himself unable to bear it.
Did Gu Mang truly want to recklessly sleep with a man simply for pleasure?
He was known as the ferocious beast of the altar, commanding countless troops. Could he really willingly submit beneath a man three years younger than himself, allowing that man to reduce him to a dazed, scattered state?
No.
That wasn’t it.
He hadn’t made a mistake out of a moment of foolishness, nor had he repeatedly made the same mistake because of a fleeting moment of pleasure.
It was because, without realizing it, he had already fallen in love.
Only then had there been that first “moment of foolishness,” followed by all those “moments of pleasure.”
His heart had long since ceased to belong to himself.
He simply did not want to admit it.
He was unwilling to accept his fate.
Gu Mang looked at Mo Xi’s slightly reddened eyes and sighed. He raised his hand, wanting to touch that young and handsome face.
“You… if one day you no longer have me…”
Mo Xi’s eyes instantly became wet.
He suddenly could no longer restrain himself. He reached out and fiercely embraced Gu Mang.
He held him so tightly, so forcefully, so deeply, as though he wanted to tear apart every bone and limb of Gu Mang’s body and hide them inside his own flesh and blood, using his own flesh to lock Gu Mang’s flesh in place.
That way, he could keep this person forever.
There would be no betrayal afterward.
No moment when former comrades turned their weapons against each other.
No dagger driven into his chest.
Gu Mang sighed in his arms.
“What is wrong with you today?”
“I just want you to be all right.”
Mo Xi’s chin rested against the crown of Gu Mang’s head as he held the person in his arms tightly, speaking hoarsely.
“If there’s something painful in your heart, something you’re aggrieved about, can you tell me all of it? Let me carry it with you.”
“Can you stop overthinking things? Don’t keep enduring everything alone…”
“Mo Xi…”
Mo Xi raised one large hand and pressed it against the back of Gu Mang’s head, drawing him even deeper into his embrace.
The agony of having lost something, found it again, and then lost it once more caused every inch of his bones to tremble faintly, slowly awakening from deep within his limbs and bones.
Mo Xi held the Gu Mang from eight years ago as though he were holding a wandering soul that had finally returned home.
He closed his eyes, his swordlike brows drawn together, and whispered hoarsely through a choked voice:
“Senior Brother… whatever is troubling you, don’t hide it from me anymore, all right?”
The person in his arms stiffened slightly but said nothing.
After a long while, Gu Mang pushed him away.
Gu Mang’s hand pressed against his chest, creating a distance of one arm between them.
Those eyes, black as the endless night, gazed quietly at him.
Gu Mang asked faintly,
“What does Lord Xihe think I’ve been hiding from you?”