Split the soul apart, and forge it into a key.
It was like a nightmare, still sinking and struggling in purgatory.
Mo Xi did not even know how all of this had proceeded, step by step.
It was as though he were already dead.
He seemed to see his own soul floating up to the top of the tent, drifting and swaying as it looked down upon the two people inside. He saw everything he himself had done. He watched as Gu Mang’s blood continuously poured from the wound in his chest when his soul was extracted, while the young man whose soul was being torn apart kept saying to him, “It’s okay. It’s okay.”
Many years ago, Senior Brother Gu had smiled at him beside a campfire and told him that he hoped the Nine Provinces would enjoy peace and prosperity, that everyone would receive fairness and justice, and that he was willing to brave boiling water and flames and be shattered to pieces for that cause.
Now that he thought about it, it was almost like a curse.
The key was finally formed. It took the shape of a blue-sapphire thumb ring, and Mo Xi held it with trembling hands before placing it into Gu Mang’s palm. Then he used every healing technique he knew to mend the wounds in Gu Mang’s chest and wipe away the mottled traces of blood.
But his tears fell like beads from a broken string, one drop after another, eventually mingling with the blood.
Gu Mang kept coughing. With the agony of having his soul torn apart, he should have already passed out, yet he continued desperately keeping those clear eyes wide open, staring at Mo Xi’s face without blinking.
He knew that he had lost two souls, and that his final memories and reason would soon collapse along with them. As for pain, it was a sensation he had long since grown accustomed to. It was something he had endured ever since the moment he had undertaken his mission as an imperial spy and set out for Liao.
He could endure it and remain conscious a little longer, so that he could look at his Junior Brother Mo.
He knew that throughout his life, he could be called selfless—but that was only toward himself. Toward Mo Xi, he had always been selfish. He had offered all his passion, his life, and even his soul to the peaceful world he yearned for, while what he had left for Mo Xi had always been separation and heartache.
Perhaps only at this moment, when the Gu Mang of six years ago was about to lose his memories and the Mo Xi of six years later was about to leave this place, did the two of them finally possess the sincerity and tranquility they had sought but could never have throughout their entire lives.
Mo Xi was still desperately healing the wound that had been opened in Gu Mang’s chest. Gu Mang took his hand, and a faint smile appeared on his pale face.
“Don’t waste your strength anymore… Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”
“Do you know, Mo Xi? I’m not someone who can die easily… Do you think the Lord of Liao never tried to kill me? Do you think Junshang never tried to have me assassinated?”
“They didn’t kill me, not because of what they said—that I had mutated too severely and they didn’t know what consequences my death would cause. They tried long ago. It’s just that… cough, cough… they all failed. They know very well that after I fused with the blood demon beast, I would only die when it died, so…”
He paused, breathing laboriously.
“Junior Brother, you don’t need to heal me anymore…”
“Stay and talk with me for a while… I just want to talk with you a little longer… Okay… okay?”
Mo Xi took his bloodstained hand and pressed it against his cheek. After a long moment, he choked out, “Okay.”
Gu Mang smiled.
Whenever he smiled, there was always a certain vitality and wildness in him. Even now, it was still the same.
Mo Xi’s voice was hoarse. “What do you want to talk about?”
“Actually, there isn’t much…”
Gu Mang looked up at the top of the tent, where a tiny patch of starlight showed through.
“It’s just… I really want to say I’m sorry to you. Mo Xi, was I… was I too selfish? I never told you many of the truths, and you…”
“And you always gave me everything you had…”
Mo Xi shook his head. “I know you had no choice.”
I know how difficult it was for you, as a spy, to struggle between truth and falsehood.
Gu Mang turned his head, and Mo Xi saw clear tear tracks running down from the corners of his eyes.
“…Junior Brother…”
He raised his hand, wanting to touch Mo Xi’s face, but he did not have much strength left. So Mo Xi took his hand, kissed it, and brought it to his own cheek.
Gu Mang gazed at him blankly for a while, his eyes remaining red.
For a long time, neither of them spoke, but they already understood everything.
Gu Mang suddenly closed his eyes, and tears rolled silently down his face.
“I was ultimately too cruel to you…”
Mo Xi choked out, “You had no choice, while I… I was willing.”
“I know you have your own dreams. I know what you’re thinking…” Mo Xi said softly. “You’ve already done your very best… It’s just that we… couldn’t win against Heaven…”
Gu Mang said nothing.
He stared blankly at that tiny patch of starry sky for a while longer.
After a moment, he asked, “But what I’ve always been fighting for… what I’ve been fighting Heaven for…”
“I know…”
“The ones who died unjustly at Fengming Mountain… did they win their justice?”
Mo Xi froze for a moment.
“What?”
“The brothers who died unjustly at Fengming Mountain… did they ever receive justice?” Gu Mang opened his moist eyes and looked at him anxiously. “In the end, did they all… did they all receive vindication?”
His voice grew even softer.
“Zhanxing… did he… did he receive justice too?”
Mo Xi understood what he meant, but knowing the answer did not make it any easier for him. He tightly clasped Gu Mang’s hand, turning his face to kiss it again and again as he nodded continuously.
“Yes. You brought them home… They never called you Marshal Gu by mistake. Lu Zhanxing… also never…”
He paused.
The overwhelming grief clogged his throat, and for a moment he could not say anything more.
“Never… chose the wrong brother…”
“You know that we became sworn brothers…?”
Mo Xi lowered his tear-dampened lashes and answered quietly.
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry. I never treated him well.”
Gu Mang suddenly smiled. His smile was utterly genuine. Aside from his haggard appearance and bloodless face, he looked surprisingly little different from how he normally did.
“It’s okay. Zhanxing actually likes you very much… He doesn’t hate you. I know that.”
He paused.
“What about Murong Lian… Murong Lian?”
“Did he ever mistreat himself again?”
“No…”
Gu Mang seemed to breathe another sigh of relief.
Finally, his clear eyes focused intently on Mo Xi. There was something cautious in them, almost an anxious probing.
“Mo Xi, during these past few years, when I had lost my memories… did I make you suffer?”
“…”
“I made things difficult for you, didn’t I?”
The color in those eyes seemed about to shatter into an entire lake and sea of sorrow. Mo Xi watched the brightness fade from that face, watched the stars in Gu Mang’s eyes begin to go out.
How could he possibly want that?
He said, “No.”
“Really…?”
“Yes.”
He choked out a laugh. He wanted to relight the stars in the other man’s eyes, so he said, “It’s true. Even after you lost two souls and your memories, you… you were still good to me… You never, never made things difficult for me… It’s all true.”
“In your heart, have I always been a very, very good person?”
Mo Xi said, “Always.”
Perhaps he noticed the hesitation in Gu Mang’s expression. Wanting to comfort him, Mo Xi said, “You still remembered me to some extent… I left you something to hold on to, something that stayed by your side, so you never completely forgot me.”
As he spoke, as though wanting to prove something, he searched himself for some token he could give Gu Mang.
But he had come straight from the battlefield. Other than the Reversal Stone that he absolutely had to take with him, he had nothing else on him.
Just as he was at a loss, his fingertips suddenly touched something soft. He looked at it by the moonlight and immediately froze.
What he had touched was the embroidered pouch used to hold the Reversal Stone.
At the time, he had been in such a hurry to return to the past that he had taken Jiang Fuli’s pouch without examining it closely. Now, looking at it, he saw that it was embroidered with golden silk depicting clouds and rosy skies stretching a thousand li, while silver thread depicted mountains and rivers spanning ten thousand li. Red stones and agate hung from the bottom.
This was… this was…
A distant memory was awakened at that moment.
When they had reunited at Luomei Villa, this was the very pouch Gu Mang had stubbornly guarded.
The first time Mo Xi had seen this woven pouch, he had been so furious, because Gu Mang had clutched it and said to him bluntly:
“Someone treated me well.”
“This pouch was given to me by him.”
In his stunned disbelief, Mo Xi’s blood suddenly ran cold. He abruptly understood fate’s arrangement, and wave after wave of sorrow surged through him, leaving his heart as silent as the night.
His throat was unbearably bitter. He desperately held himself back, barely stopping himself from shedding tears again.
It turned out… it turned out that the person who had given Gu Mang the fragrant pouch—the very person he had always been jealous and resentful of—was himself.
The person Gu Mang had not forgotten even after losing his consciousness and memories…
Was also himself!
It had always been him. Only him…
“What’s wrong?”
“…N-nothing.”
Mo Xi suppressed the overwhelming grief in his heart. Carefully, with trembling fingers, he untied the fragrant pouch from his waist and placed it in Gu Mang’s palm.
Gu Mang examined it and smiled.
“Is this the token? Later, did I rely on this to remember you even after I forgot everything?”
“…Yes.”
“Then I’ll leave a token for you too.”
After saying that, Gu Mang searched himself, but what could a prisoner-slave possibly have on him?
In the end, all he found were two tiny white shell coins.
Gu Mang summoned the little spiritual power he had left and wrote his name in small characters on one of the shell coins. Then he handed it to Mo Xi.
“Here. No matter what you have to face after you return, I’ll be with you.”
Then he wanted to write Mo Xi’s name on the other shell coin, intending to keep it for himself.
But he soon remembered that he would soon have to face Murong Lian, face Murong Chen, and face Chonghua’s harshest interrogation. He could not carry a shell coin bearing Mo Xi’s name with him.
So, after writing only half of it, completing the character “Huo” but not the character “Xi,” he stopped.
He carefully placed the shell coin into the embroidered pouch and said, “This is enough.”
He smiled.
“I’ll remember you.”
…
At this point, all of Mo Xi’s questions about the embroidered pouch were finally answered.
And the enormous wave of sorrow finally crashed down upon him, as though it would engulf Heaven and Earth—
Mo Xi remembered that before Gu Mang’s death, he had once again opened this very pouch that Gu Mang had treasured.
At the time, he had seen the shell coin inside.
The shell was mottled and weathered, with a single character written upon it:
“Huo.”
At that time, his heart had been painfully constricted, and he could not help asking, “Who exactly gave this to you?”
Gu Mang had said that he did not know.
He only remembered that it had been someone who was very important to him.
“Mo Xi…”
Seeing his expression, Gu Mang raised his hand and gently patted his shoulder.
He knew that the time during which his mind would remain clear was already running short. He also knew that the time for Mo Xi to return to the future was drawing closer and closer.
He could feel his consciousness gradually becoming muddled, and he could also see Mo Xi’s body beginning to glow faintly, slowly becoming transparent.
This was yet another farewell between them.
He tried to comfort him as he had in the past, to encourage the hero who was about to return to the battlefield.
In truth, the two of them were the same. At heart, all they wanted was to have a home and become a pair. Neither of them had any desire to become famous or establish great achievements.
The reason they had chosen to become heroes was not because they thought it was exciting, or glorious, or because there was anything extraordinary about it.
It was because they had tasted too much bitterness and separation, and they did not want anyone else to experience that kind of suffering.
That was all.
“Mo Xi, go back.”
Gu Mang spoke softly to him, then lowered his hand and clasped Mo Xi’s fingers, which were gradually fading away, using the last of his strength to squeeze them.
No one answered him.
Just when he thought Mo Xi might already have been affected by the Reversal Stone and begun returning to the future, unable to hear his words anymore, he suddenly noticed that Mo Xi’s shoulders were trembling slightly.
Gu Mang stared blankly, his voice hoarse.
“Junior Brother…”
Mo Xi said nothing, as though some critically important flame of life within his body had gone out.
His figure became so dim and lost in an instant that, for a moment, it overlapped with the lonely youth who had entered the military camp many years ago.
At that time, the Mo family had fallen from power, his future was uncertain, and Mo Xi had sat alone outside the soldiers’ lively gathering.
And back then, aside from Gu Mang, no one was willing to become tainted by the remnants of his fallen family.
No one had ever given that fallen Young Master even a smile.
For a brief moment, Gu Mang desperately wanted to embrace Mo Xi again and tell him that it was all right, that he was still here and would not leave.
But he soon realized that he no longer had the right to say those words.
In the future, Mo Xi had already lost his Gu Mang-gege.
There would never again be anyone who could stand shoulder to shoulder with him and fight across the world, hand in hand returning home together.
“I’m sorry…”
Mo Xi closed his eyes for a moment, then shook his head.
He was not a lover who was good with words. He was awkward with them, honest, and often unable to say the things that would satisfy another person.
He had simply understood Gu Mang in his own clumsy way, understood him, respected him, and accepted him.
At last, he silently lifted the tiny shell Gu Mang had given him and placed it inside his clothes, in the place closest to his heart.
He carefully put it away.
After doing so, he wanted to stand up, hoping to remain as upright and composed as he had during every farewell in the past.
But in the end, he could not.
As he walked, it was as though his ribs had been shattered, his heart crushed, his lungs ripped from his chest…
Overwhelmed by the agony in his heart, he hunched over, slowly folding into himself.
Finally, in this past where nothing could be changed, amid this utterly ruined ending, he finally broke down into wordless sobs.
His relationship with Gu Mang had lasted nearly twenty years.
Yet because of the hierarchy between noble and slave, because of the conflict between spy and general, because of gender, because of morality, and because of this reason and that, it had never been respected. It had always remained hidden in the darkness, without any promise.
In the end, Gu Mang had even chosen to sacrifice himself, never returning to his side.
But Mo Xi knew that Gu Mang had truly loved him for nearly half his life.
As a spy of the Empire, Marshal Gu had exhausted almost all of his passion and life just to protect these secrets.
And the only warmth that remained, those broken fragments of time, those sincere feelings—
He had given all of them to Mo Xi.
Gu Mang’s feelings for him were, in truth, no less than the loyalty, devotion, and selflessness of anyone in this world toward their beloved.
Yet his lover, the person he loved, because of his identity as a spy, had not even dared—and could not—write down a complete name, even secretly, to keep by his side.
Inside that embroidered pouch that had crossed through time and space, there was only a single shell coin bearing the character “Huo.”
That was the only token between them.
Other than that, there was nothing left.
They both wanted to say something more to each other, but at that moment, Mo Xi suddenly felt darkness sweep across his vision.
The power of the Reversal Stone had reached its limit, radiating scorching heat from his hand.
Unable to stop himself, he called out to him one last time.
“Gu Mang…!”
Gu Mang quietly gazed at him.
There were tears in his deep-blue eyes, but he was smiling.
At the final moment before losing consciousness, what Mo Xi heard was the hurried footsteps outside the tent, followed by the voice of the guards:
“Lord Wangshu!”
“We respectfully welcome Lord Wangshu!”
He knew he was about to leave.
Murong Lian would enter at this moment, and the turning of fate would continue cruelly along its predetermined path.
He would also return to the blood-soaked battlefield six years later.
The Reversal Stone was a deception by the gods toward mortals.
Nothing in the past had changed.
At the final moment before he departed, what he saw was Gu Mang raising his hand and pressing the shell coin bearing half of his name against the front of his clothes, against that blood-stained place where the blood had not yet dried—the place closest to his heart.
Gu Mang looked at him without saying a word, but those eyes had already expressed an infinite depth of love.
Mo Xi, my Junior Brother.
Go.
Whether your memories remain clear or not, whether the years are long or short, in my heart, I will always keep my feelings for you.
I’m sorry that I cannot stay by your side forever, that I cannot tell you everything without reservation, that in the years to come I will even have to hide things from you, deceive you, and then walk alone toward death.
I deeply regret dragging you into my life and failing you.
But I have never… never regretted loving you.
Go back, Mo Xi.
I only hope that in the future, we will wait for that reunion—
that rain I once dreamed of.