Chonghua had produced two young and accomplished military commanders. The two were as distinct as the boundary between river waters—like water and fire.
The one like water was named Mo Xi. He was frigid by nature, abstinent, and still unmarried to this day. In the army, the bets on when Commander Mo would finally surrender his virginity had already accumulated into a sum large enough to make any pauper rich overnight.
The one like fire was named Gu Mang. Warm by nature, fond of smiling, tender toward women. If he had to pay a pouch of military wages for every girl he kissed, then he probably would have long since squandered his entire fortune and been left with nothing but the clothes on his back.
Before Gu Mang betrayed his country, there was once a day when he suddenly had a whimsical idea. He took a book he had compiled himself and came running over to ask Mo Xi to write a commentary for it.
At the time, Commander Mo was holding a scroll and reviewing documents, busy with military affairs, so he merely asked Commander Gu one question.
“What did you write?”
“Everything.” Gu Mang said enthusiastically. “Food, things I’ve seen and heard, travel notes of mountains and rivers, military illustrations, trivial matters of daily life.”
Mo Xi took the book, lifted his brush, held his wrist poised, and dipped the tip into ink, about to write his commentary.
Gu Mang smiled and finished his sentence.
“I also wrote about you.”
Mo Xi suddenly became alert. He stopped what he was doing and raised his eyes to look at him.
“…What did you write about me?”
Gu Mang replied sincerely, “I truthfully described the past between us.”
“What past?”
Gu Mang scratched his head, grinning shamelessly with a somewhat roguish look. He chuckled twice and said quickly:
“All of it.”
“……”
Mo Xi said nothing more. He stared at him for a while, lowered his long eyelashes, and expressionlessly wrote two lines of cold, severe regular script on the opening page:
This is a forbidden book. Unauthorized reading will be punished.