In the blink of an eye, five days had passed. Mo Xi had been swamped with military affairs and had long since forgotten the reminder Li Junlei had given him: Lord Wangshu was about to make his entrance.
After the day’s business at the military and political headquarters was concluded, several young masters suggested going to a newly opened pitch-pot hall in the Eastern Market to unwind. A new female cultivator from the military and political office joined in as well. She was young and beautiful, with a voluptuous figure and a rather distinguished background. Mo Xi vaguely felt that she looked familiar, as though her original character might have been some obscure actress whom Gu Mang had fancied in the real world.
“Lord Xihe, how about coming with us today?”
Mo Xi paused for a moment. “I’m sorry.”
“Turning someone down again.” The female cultivator pouted and muttered under her breath, “I know you like Princess Mengze, but hasn’t she gone off to become a Holy Maiden? Are you really so stubborn that you won’t give anyone else even the slightest chance?”
Mo Xi turned to look at her. “What?”
“Nothing, nothing. Fine, then. Maybe next time.” The female cultivator said dejectedly, “But you can’t turn me down again next time, or I’ll be heartbroken.”
“Hey, hey, hey! Lord Xihe, what are you doing?” Yue Chenqing popped his head out and patted the female cultivator on the shoulder, helping her persuade Mo Xi. “Come have some fun with us. Drink some tea, play pitch-pot or something. What’s so bad about that?”
——
“Pitch-pot for fools, devotion for the brain-dead.”
A man’s voice suddenly rang out.
It sounded like a ghost’s voice: hoarse, drifting, low, and utterly devoid of warmth. The only emotion it carried was mockery.
As the words fell, the faint rustle of footsteps came from outside the palace hall, where the sky was already darkening.
Mo Xi turned around and saw a man ascending the steps with a silk parasol in hand. His figure seemed cold and spectral, like a lonely ghost wandering through a snowy night. The man turned sideways to close his parasol, shook the accumulated snow from it, and raised his eyes to sweep his gaze over everyone in the hall. A thin, mocking smile appeared on his lips, no matter how one looked at it.
“Well, well. All you ordinary mortals are here, are you?”
Despite his outrageous words, the younger generation in the military and political hall all bowed respectfully.
“Lord Wangshu.”
“This junior pays his respects to the Divine Lord Wangshu.”
This man was none other than the most distinguished noble in Chonghua, a man who had been served by Gu Mang for twenty years while Gu Mang himself bore the status of a slave for those same twenty years. He was also the current ruler’s elder cousin.
The cold-blooded, cruel—
Murong Lian.
One had to admit that his name and personality were almost absurdly mismatched. Back when Gu Mang had gone out to exterminate demons and subdue evil spirits, he had arrived at a village whose people frequently suffered from epidemics. Taking pity on them, Gu Mang had impersonated Murong Lian and gone to the Imperial Medicine Hall in the capital to secretly obtain a remedy.
When the real Murong Lian learned what had happened, he had lashed Gu Mang with seventy or eighty strokes, then ordered him to kneel for twenty consecutive days along the walkway of the cultivation academy.
Mo Xi had been studying at the academy at the time, but he rarely used that particular path. One day, after a heavy rain began to fall, he happened to pass by and saw—
Gu Mang was drenched from head to toe. His black hair clung to his icy cheeks, and raindrops streamed along the curve of his jaw. From Mo Xi’s angle, he could see the back of Gu Mang’s bowed neck, his posture as humble as flattened grass.
Gu Mang knelt obediently amid the stream of passersby, holding a wooden placard in both hands. Four large characters had been written across it in vivid red cinnabar ink:
“Vile Slave Impersonates Master—Shameless Beyond Compare.”
Mo Xi stopped in front of him.
Clear droplets splashed against the surface of his umbrella before bouncing away. Others gathered into rivulets and rushed down its ribs.
People nearby glanced over curiously. But the moment they caught sight of the Tengshe clan crest on Mo Xi’s robes, they hurriedly lowered their heads and scurried away, too frightened to look again.
“…You…”
Gu Mang seemed to have been soaked until he was half-conscious. He had not even noticed when a large umbrella appeared over his head, much less that someone had stopped in front of him.
So when he suddenly heard a voice speaking at such close range, he jolted awake from his stupor and abruptly raised his head.
Mo Xi’s field of vision was filled by a bewildered, rain-soaked face. There was dried blood at the corner of Gu Mang’s mouth and lash marks on his cheek. He was shivering violently from the cold, looking like an abandoned dog lying in the mud. Only his dark eyes remained bright, gazing up at Mo Xi as though they had been washed clean by the rain.
That miserable appearance, paired with the eight characters on the placard—Vile Slave Impersonates Master—Shameless Beyond Compare—was at once absurd and heartbreaking.
By then, Mo Xi and Gu Mang had already become acquainted, though their friendship was not yet particularly deep. Mo Xi knew that Gu Mang had stolen medicine under another person’s name only because he could not bear to see an entire village suffer through an epidemic. So he had sought out Murong Lian in his bedroom and pleaded with him to show mercy.
Not only had Murong Lian refused, he had argued with Mo Xi. In the end, he simply ordered someone to summon Gu Mang back before him. With Mo Xi standing there, he asked, “Gu Mang, do you know why this highly esteemed, utterly self-important Young Master Mo has come to my door today?”
Water streamed down Gu Mang’s face. He shook his head blankly.
Murong Lian crooked a finger, beckoning him closer. When Gu Mang approached, Murong Lian raised his unnervingly pale fingers and caressed Gu Mang’s rain-drenched cheek. Then he lifted his peach-blossom eyes, their whites visible beneath the irises, and smiled as though he found the whole thing amusing.
“He came here for your sake.”
Gu Mang visibly froze. He glanced at Mo Xi, whose expression had darkened, then turned back to Murong Lian. Finally, he wiped the rain from his face with a haphazard swipe and grinned.
“Are you joking, Young Master?”
Murong Lian continued smiling. “What do you think?”
“…”
“You’re becoming more and more capable. If Young Master Mo hadn’t come all this way in the rain to plead on your behalf today, I wouldn’t even have known when you managed to seduce another family’s young master.”
Mo Xi gritted his teeth. “Murong Lian. I’m merely asking you to do what’s fair. Keep your filthy insinuations to yourself.”
Gu Mang turned to stare at Mo Xi in a daze. After a moment, a hint of gratitude and a smile seemed to emerge in his clear, sea-blue gaze. But then, taking advantage of Murong Lian’s inattention, he gave Mo Xi a slight shake of the head.
His meaning was unmistakable: Don’t interfere.
Murong Lian shot Mo Xi a sidelong glance, giving a faint, triumphant snort as though to assert his dominance. Then he turned back to Gu Mang and spoke pleasantly.
“Kneel.”
Gu Mang obeyed, gradually lowering his tall, straight frame before Murong Lian until he was kneeling with his head bowed.
“Take off your upper garments.”
“Murong Lian!”
“This is my bedroom, Young Master Mo. No matter how noble your station may be, you have no right to reprimand me in my own room. Isn’t that so?”
Murong Lian glanced at Gu Mang again.
“Take them off.”
Gu Mang obeyed once more. He removed his outer robe, complete with its insignia of rank, revealing his strong, well-proportioned body. His eyelashes lowered, and he remained silent.
Murong Lian took his time examining him, from the taut, sharply defined lines of his muscles to the honey-gold hue of his skin beneath the candlelight.
Murong Lian himself was very slender. As he scrutinized Gu Mang, he resembled a noble young master who was perpetually cold, eyeing a piece of the finest animal fur—as though he wished he could tear all the flesh from Gu Mang’s body and wrap himself in it, hoping to become powerful in the process.
Just then, a servant brought Murong Lian a cup of hot ginger tea. He sipped it as he sighed.
“Gu Mang, it must feel wonderful to possess a spiritual core, doesn’t it? It must be delightful to turn the cultivation academy upside down and make the whole place revolve around you. And you’re so pleased with yourself for befriending someone as distinguished as Young Master Mo, aren’t you?”
His thin fingers set down the teacup. Suddenly, he raised his eyes.
Jealousy twisted Murong Lian’s gaunt face.
“Have you already forgotten where you came from?”
Gu Mang lowered his head even further. “I wouldn’t dare forget.”
“Your divine weapon, your clothes, your spiritual core, everything you have today—all of it was bestowed upon you by the Murong family! Without Wangshu Manor, you would have nothing!”
“Young Master is right to reprimand me.”
Murong Lian fell silent. After a long while, he suddenly gave a derisive laugh.
“But I’ve always been fair in rewarding and punishing people. Since you’re so capable, naturally I won’t treat you too poorly. Wouldn’t want you growing wings and letting someone else lure you away.”
He issued a cold command to his attendants.
“Go and fetch the gift I prepared for Gu—Grand—Senior—Brother.”
He drew out every syllable, dripping with sarcasm.
Other retainers from the Murong household were present at the time. One of them, Lu Zhanxing, was Gu Mang’s closest friend. The moment he heard Murong Lian mention that particular “gift,” his expression turned grim. He stared at Murong Lian with a look that could only be described as a glare.
Murong Lian raised a hand and ordered his attendants to unveil the congratulatory gift before everyone.
The crowd’s expressions changed. Several people even cried out in shock.
“It’s a slave collar!”
At the words, Gu Mang abruptly raised his head, staring in bewilderment at the sandalwood tray being held above him.
Mo Xi’s expression changed as well.
Slave collars were worn around the necks of the most disobedient slaves, those who had incurred their masters’ greatest displeasure. They were used to restrain and punish servants. Once fastened, the collar could never be removed without the master’s permission. In effect, it was little different from a dog’s collar.
Being a slave was already a tremendous humiliation. To be shackled with a slave collar was to suffer humiliation upon humiliation, to the point that even other slaves might look down on the wearer.
“Put it on yourself.” Murong Lian waved a hand. “Or do I have to ask you personally, Senior Brother?”
Mo Xi was already furious.
“Murong Lian, don’t push this too far. A slave collar can only be used with the ruler’s approval—”
But before he could finish, Gu Mang interrupted him.
“Such a precious gift!”
Gu Mang spoke loudly, decisively drowning out Mo Xi’s voice. The bewilderment had vanished from his expression, replaced by his usual cheerful grin. He raised both hands and accepted the tray.
“Thank you for your generous reward, Young Master.”
He knelt deeply and knocked his forehead against the floor, making a ridiculously exaggerated show of gratitude.
Everyone present felt a pang of sympathy. Gu Mang, however, calmly picked up the entirely black collar, lifted his glossy dark eyes, and looked at Murong Lian, who sat high above him. There was no obvious resentment in those beautiful eyes. They were, if anything, unnervingly peaceful.
Murong Lian said coldly, “Put it on.”
Gu Mang replied, “All right.”
Mo Xi stared at him in disbelief.
“…”
And Gu Mang simply accepted his fate. Without even blinking, he fastened the slave collar around his neck with a sharp click.
“Oh.” As though he had discovered something new and amusing, Gu Mang rubbed his neck with interest. “Not too big, not too small. A perfect fit.”
Several of the retainers who were close to Gu Mang looked as though they were on the verge of tears.
But that was what Gu Mang had been like as a boy. No matter how enormous the disaster, he seemed to regard it as nothing at all. Even if the sky fell, he would probably grin, pull it over himself, and use it as a blanket.
He was exactly like the Gu Mang of the real world, back when the Gu family had yet to fall from grace.
“Does it look good?”
Lu Zhanxing: “…”
Murong Lian rubbed his thin, pale fingers against the corner of his lips and drawled sarcastically, “Absolutely splendid.”
Gu Mang grinned cheerfully. “Thank you for the reward, Young Master.”
“Don’t mention it.”
Murong Lian’s gaze turned dull and grey. After a brief silence, he suddenly raised his hand. A blue light flared in his palm, and Gu Mang abruptly collapsed to the ground.
Among the retainers, Lu Zhanxing could no longer restrain himself.
“Gu Mang!”
The slave collar suddenly released several black bands of lightning, binding Gu Mang’s upper body and arms tightly. The current surged through him, making his entire body convulse. He curled up on the floor, trembling uncontrollably.
Murong Lian apparently still wasn’t satisfied. He changed to another incantation, and the light in his palm turned red. Thorns erupted from the collar and coiled around Gu Mang’s honey-colored body, their sharp points piercing his skin. In an instant, blood began to flow freely.
“Enough!” Mo Xi could no longer endure it. He gritted his teeth. “Murong Lian, how far do you have to take this?”
“I’m disciplining a slave belonging to my own household. What does that have to do with Young Master Mo?” Murong Lian replied languidly. “He’s nothing but a lowly slave. Even if I beat him to death, it would be of no consequence. Why should Young Master Mo trouble himself so much over him?”
“This is the cultivation academy. You have privately put a slave collar on a disciple of the academy. That alone shows utter contempt for its rules. Stop.”
Murong Lian turned to Mo Xi with a smile.
“If you tell me to stop, and I actually stop, wouldn’t that make me look rather weak? Young Master Mo, normally I can never seem to get close to you, no matter how hard I try. Today, though, you’ve come to ask me for a favor. I’m not entirely unreasonable, but surely you can offer me something in return.”
As he spoke, he chuckled and changed the collar’s punishment spell several more times. Gu Mang was already drenched in blood from the torture.
Mo Xi seized Murong Lian’s wrist to stop him from forming another seal, fixing his dark eyes on the man.
“What do you want in return?”
“Nothing particularly remarkable.” Murong Lian glanced at Mo Xi’s hand gripping his wrist and sneered. “It’s just that my father is always complaining that I’m lazy in my cultivation and inferior to others in the art of magic.”
His peach-blossom eyes narrowed as he gazed at Mo Xi with a sinister look.
“All you have to do is lose to me in the academy’s New Year’s Eve competition between masters. Then I’ll do you this favor.”
“…”
Mo Xi looked back at Gu Mang. Gu Mang was watching him too, biting his lower lip as he gave a slight shake of his head.
“What do you say? I’ve heard that this slave of mine helped you quite a bit when you were out subduing demons.”
“I agree.”
Murong Lian smiled and waved his hand, dispelling the punishment spell on the slave collar.
Gu Mang immediately crumpled into a pool of blood. His lips, which so often curled into a smile, could no longer produce a coherent sound.
Murong Lian seemed suitably satisfied.
“Acceptable.”
The light on the slave collar went out.
Murong Lian sneered at Gu Mang.
“Just lie there. Once the bleeding stops, put your clothes back on. No need to make anyone wash them. I hope this gift reminds you, at every moment, of who you are.”
His gaze was as venomous as a bee’s sting.
“Remember how filthy the blood flowing through your veins is.”
“Remember whose property you are, and whom you must remain loyal to from now on.”
Murong Lian was so despicable, so perverse, that when Mo Xi first inherited this memory, he had been disgusted for a long time afterward.
But what Mo Xi could not understand was why, despite Murong Lian’s brutality, Gu Mang had remained so utterly devoted to him for twenty years, without the slightest inclination to disobey.
Gu Mang wasn’t a masochist. He was clever, fearless, and possessed a mind of his own. That was precisely why his blind loyalty seemed so incomprehensible to Mo Xi. He couldn’t guess what was going through Gu Mang’s mind, nor did he know what had happened between Gu Mang and Murong Lian in the past. He also couldn’t understand what Gu Mang had intended to represent in the real world by inserting a character like Murong Lian into this story.
At that moment, however, he remembered how he had felt back then, watching Gu Mang suffer humiliation after humiliation while being powerless to stop it.
Only now, with the benefit of hindsight, did he finally understand what that feeling should be called.
Heartache.
No matter what Gu Mang might become in the future, after so many years of friendship, some things had seeped into Mo Xi’s bones. They could never be changed.
And now, years later, Gu Mang’s former master stood before him once again, his gaze as sinister as ever.
Murong Lian’s eyes slithered across Mo Xi’s face like a snake. It was as though he had only just noticed him among the crowd. He licked his lips, then broke into a smile.
“Oh! Lord Xihe is here too. How discourteous of me. It’s been a long time.”
Mo Xi remained expressionless as he looked at him.
Murong Lian had narrow, upturned peach-blossom eyes, his beauty at once seductive and ruthless, soft and cold. His face was even thinner and sharper than Mo Xi remembered. The arrogance and domineering insolence in his expression had only grown more intense over the years.
“We two have been apart for many years. Why is it that you look so unhappy to see me?”
Mo Xi regarded him indifferently.
“After so many years, I imagine the burdens of the capital have been troubling you, Lord Wangshu. They seem to have made you quite thin.”
“I’m a court official, after all. Unlike you members of the imperial in-laws, I have to shoulder the ruler’s worries.”
Mo Xi replied coldly, “How touching.”
When Lord Xihe faced Lord Wangshu, it was like lightning clashing against a whetstone. The atmosphere immediately became charged with hostility.
Of everyone in the hall, only Yue Chenqing, the oblivious young fool, remained cheerfully unconcerned. He looked from one man to the other and asked in an easygoing tone, “Lord Wangshu, it’s already so late. What brings you to the palace today?”
His cheerful interruption broke the tense, awkward silence.
“…I was passing by.” Murong Lian snorted and lowered his head to straighten his sleeves. “I happened to have nothing else to do, so I thought I’d invite everyone to gather at Wangshu Manor.”
His gaze shifted around the hall, carrying a trace of chill.
“Have a little wine, perhaps.”
No one dared dismiss his invitation lightly. Several of those present had been hoping for an opportunity to curry favor with Murong Lian, so they immediately chimed in.
“Since Lord Wangshu has invited us, naturally we wouldn’t dream of refusing!”
“I’ve been wanting to sample the fine wine at Lord Wangshu’s residence for ages. Hahaha!”
Murong Lian ignored the others. Of everyone in the hall, he looked only at Mo Xi.
“Lord Xihe, will you come?”
Mo Xi glanced at Yue Chenqing, recalled what Lord Changfeng had told him, and remembered that he had promised Jiang Yesue he would look after his younger brother. He replied, “Yue Chenqing and I have something to discuss. We won’t be going tonight.”
“Whoa, seriously? What could you possibly have to do this late at night?” Yue Chenqing widened his eyes. “I don’t want to discuss military affairs with you! I want to go drink at Lord Wangshu’s residence!”
As he spoke, he hurried behind Murong Lian, looking as though he would rather die than sit through another military report.
Since Yue Chenqing had made his position so clear, Mo Xi was an outsider and couldn’t very well force him to stay. He could only knit his brows slightly.
Murong Lian waited for a while, but when Mo Xi still did not answer, he turned away and clasped his hands behind his back, gazing at the snow drifting beyond the palace doors.
Suddenly, he said, “Speaking of which, Lord Xihe, you haven’t seen Gu Mang in a long time, have you?”
“…”
“I know you hate him. When Gu Mang defected, you were the one who went to great lengths to protect him. You were even willing to stake your own life on the claim that he would never betray Chonghua.”
Murong Lian suddenly smiled again.
“Later, you went to meet him on the battlefield yourself, hoping to hear him confirm it with his own lips. Instead, he seriously wounded you, leaving you on the brink of death.”
Mo Xi said coolly, “Why bring up old matters?”
“Heh. If I don’t bring them up, does that mean you no longer think about them?”
Murong Lian continued slowly, “Lord Xihe, although you and I have never got along, both of us were deceived by Gu Mang. Both of us were let down by him, betrayed by him. In that sense, we were equally blind.”
He smiled faintly.
“So, though I hate to admit it, there may be no one in this world who understands my resentment and disappointment better than you do.”
As he spoke, Murong Lian turned half his pale, sickly face toward Mo Xi. An inscrutable light flickered in his eyes.
“He was once a slave in my household. Now he’s still at Luomei Villa, which is under my control.”
He tilted his head, his gaze light and careless.
“How about it? Shall we go and see him together?”
Yue Chenqing innocently poked his head out from the side.
“Oh, go to Luomei Villa? Lord Wangshu, you must be joking. There are women from our military and political office here. It wouldn’t be appropriate to take them to a pleasure house, would it?”
Several female cultivators immediately waved their hands.
“No, no, we’re not going. Lord Wangshu, enjoy yourselves.”
Yue Chenqing scratched his head.
“Well, even if the ladies aren’t going, Lord Xihe hates brothels most of all. Why would he agree to enter a place like that?”
“Oh. I’d almost forgotten.” Murong Lian gave a cold laugh. “Marshal Mo is a hero of Chonghua, always upright, honorable, and dignified. He would never lower himself to visit those disreputable places of pleasure. How filthy.”
Mo Xi: “…”
“Very well, then.” Murong Lian paused briefly, rotating his neck to loosen his joints before continuing. “How about this? The villa isn’t far from my residence anyway. I’ll have someone bring him here. He can entertain us tonight. Consider it my way of welcoming Marshal Mo back…”
His lips were moist as he uttered the sinister words.
“…and washing the dust from your travels.”
“Only Gu Mang? Lord Wangshu, you should bring in a few more people.” Since both the Divine Lords Xihe and Wangshu had deep grudges against Gu Mang, one young master spoke without the slightest restraint. “With someone like Gu Mang, we’d be lucky if he didn’t spoil the mood.”
Murong Lian ignored him, keeping his eyes fixed on Mo Xi. Yet when he heard those words, the corners of his mouth curved into a smile.
Seeing him smile, several younger men eager to curry favor with him laughed along.
“Hahaha, yes, yes! Just Gu Mang really won’t do.”
“He’s no fun. I once went to Luomei Villa looking for him. How could he possibly know how to serve anyone? He’s more likely to infuriate you.”
“You’ve actually patronized his services?”
“He used to be quite notorious for his reputation with men. I was curious and wanted to try him out. Besides, you know, he…”
Before the young master could finish speaking, he suddenly felt a chill prickling the back of his neck.
He looked around and discovered Mo Xi staring coldly at him. That gaze was like a dagger in the dead of night. The young man was so frightened that he instantly forgot what he had been about to say. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, and cold sweat trickled down his body.
Had he said something wrong?
The young master wondered uneasily, but before he could think it through, Mo Xi had already turned away. His sharply defined profile had settled back into its usual cold composure, without the slightest trace of emotion.
It was as though the murderous ferocity in his eyes just moments ago had been nothing more than an illusion.
Murong Lian, with all the languid arrogance of a spoiled aristocrat, drawled, “You people are truly amusing. Who is Gu Mang, after all? He was once Chonghua’s greatest general, my old acquaintance, and Marshal Mo’s senior fellow disciple.”
Mo Xi: “…”
“Even if he doesn’t know how to serve others, how could we possibly hold a banquet tonight without him?”
As he spoke, Murong Lian’s gaze shifted. It settled on Mo Xi with unmistakably malicious intent.
“Besides, I’ve been playing with him for two years now. And now that Marshal Mo has returned and come to my residence for a little gathering, how could I fail to fulfill my duty as host and share him with you?”
With every additional word, the gloom in Mo Xi’s eyes deepened.
By the end, it was as though dark clouds were crushing a city, ready to tear it apart. His fury had become an army of ten thousand, lying in wait behind his lowered lashes, bristling with murderous intent.
He didn’t want to go.
He didn’t want to see Gu Mang in person, looking so utterly humiliated before these people.
But Murong Lian kept striking precisely where he was most vulnerable, every word stabbing directly into his heart.
“In the end, he’s nothing more than a dog belonging to my household. The late king once raised him to such great heights. Now I, Murong Lian, can trample him into the dirt just as thoroughly.”
Murong Lian bared his teeth in a chilling smile and turned his gaze toward Mo Xi.
“Marshal Mo. Your greatest enemy, your Senior Brother Gu—aren’t you curious what I’ve turned him into? Don’t you want to see him with your own eyes?”
In the end, the group went after all.
Night fell. Nine thousand exquisite immortal lamps illuminated the sky above Wangshu Manor, where a lavish banquet unfolded amid brilliant lights and extravagant indulgence.
By the middle of the feast, a thousand cups of wine had been emptied. The guests were thoroughly warmed with drink, and the younger men who had initially been so restrained became lively and boisterous, drinking, playing finger-guessing games, and making merry.
Murong Lian reclined against a couch of Xiangfei bamboo, holding a silver pick in his slender, cold-white fingers as he idly stirred the incense in a burner.
Mo Xi found the scent vaguely familiar. A thought suddenly struck him, and he opened the setting manual to ask.
The setting manual replied:
【This incense is called A Life Like a Dream. It comes from the Western Regions and is a kind of hallucinogenic incense. Smelling it from a distance is harmless, but when inhaled at close range, it produces an intoxicating, euphoric sensation. Once the effects wear off, however, the user feels even more listless than before. To keep experiencing that stimulation, one must inhale it every so often, making the substance extremely difficult to quit.】
“………………”
Wasn’t this—
the very substance that Gu Mang and his crowd in the real world had been trafficking and smuggling out of the Golden Triangle?!
Mo Xi’s expression changed instantly. As a police officer who had spent years on the front lines, and whose major cases in recent years had involved drug traffickers, he had nearly developed a visceral hatred of this stuff. One of his own brothers had even been dragged into that pit and had never managed to climb back out.
He watched Murong Lian’s intoxicated, self-indulgent appearance. The man’s thin, pale face blurred amid the drifting smoke, like an illusion reflected in water or flowers seen in a mirror. Mo Xi had to summon almost all his strength to stop himself from kicking the table over on the spot and destroying every last trace of that wretched A Life Like a Dream.
Li Junlei: 【Warning! This action will cause Murong Lian to fly into a rage and seriously disrupt the plot’s progression. If this key plot point cannot proceed smoothly, your character restoration rate will be reduced by 50%.】
“Why does the deduction keep getting bigger?!”
【Because the consequences are serious.】
“…”
【…I’ll try to deduct less next time.】
“Get lost.”
Li Junlei silently got lost.
Yue Chenqing was sitting beside Mo Xi. He noticed Murong Lian inhaling the smoke from the burner with a look of lecherous intoxication, and curiosity got the better of him. He was about to lean closer for a look when Mo Xi stopped him.
“Sit down.”
“What… is that?”
Mo Xi’s face was dark. “A Life Like a Dream.”
Yue Chenqing was startled. “Ah! The Western Regions’ A Life Like a Dream?”
He looked uneasily toward Murong Lian.
“…Lord Wangshu seems to have quite a serious addiction. No wonder he seemed so unwell when we saw him this time.”
“If you ever touch this kind of incense even once, your father will lock you in your room for three to five years and refuse to let you out.”
Unexpectedly, Yue Chenqing laughed.
“My father? He’s not that unreasonable. At most, he’d threaten to beat me until my bones broke. Locking someone in their room for three to five years sounds exactly like something you’d come up with, Marshal Mo.”
Before Mo Xi could get angry, Yue Chenqing continued with a grin.
“But don’t worry. I don’t need to beg for this kind of illusory pleasure. I’m so lovable that I don’t need A Life Like a Dream to make me happy. I’m already having a great time! I’m not so foolish as to throw my life away like that.”
Unfortunately, those last few words fell directly into Murong Lian’s ears.
As he stirred the remnants of incense in the gilded beast-shaped burner, a soft, cold smile crept across his face. His voice was as languid as the smoke drifting through the air.
“Throw your life away? Hmph. A Life Like a Dream is worth a fortune and almost impossible to obtain. With the financial resources of your Yue family, even if you wanted to inhale it, you couldn’t afford to keep doing so.”
Yue Chenqing had no desire to argue with him. He replied indifferently, “Yes, yes. Lord Wangshu has noble blood and wealth beyond measure. How could I possibly compare?”
Murong Lian was satisfied. He turned to Mo Xi and asked, “Lord Xihe, won’t you try some?”
Try your ghost! The only reason I haven’t dragged you to the police station is that this place doesn’t have a police station!
Seeing Mo Xi’s icy expression, Murong Lian hunched forward and giggled.
“Ah, I’d almost forgotten. Marshal Mo is accustomed to living frugally and has never cared for extravagance or waste. It seems this fine treasure from the Western Regions is something only I, in all Chonghua, can afford to enjoy.”
Mo Xi truly had no desire to exchange another word with him.
Even the Murong Lian in Mo Xi’s inherited memories had seemed like the absolute limit of human depravity. Surely he couldn’t possibly be any worse.
Yet meeting the real man had shattered that assumption. He was extravagant and debauched, consumed by greed, resentment, anger, and obsession—and now he was even inhaling hallucinogenic incense, wallowing in a life of drunken dreams.
He prided himself on his pure noble blood and aristocratic status, yet never made any effort to improve himself. Instead, he had sunk deeper and deeper into the mire. By now, he could hardly be called a living person at all. He was a complete wreck.
“Master,” the steward of Wangshu Manor announced as he entered the hall, “the people from Luomei Villa have been brought here, as you instructed.”
“Oh? Excellent. Let them in, then.”
The banquet was at its height, and the guests were already somewhat drunk. Having received his master’s orders, the steward promptly clapped his hands and instructed the attendants to bring in the finest men and women from the villa to entertain the guests.
Mo Xi turned his head, his dark eyes fixed on the entrance to the private chamber like those of a hunting falcon.
The beaded curtains tinkled as several rows of men and women, each with a different appearance and temperament, were led inside by the steward. Some were dazzlingly beautiful, others innocent-looking; some seemed humble, others proud. Some were unwilling, while others appeared resigned to their circumstances.
But Gu Mang was nowhere among them.
“These are all male courtesans and female entertainers from Luomei Villa,” Murong Lian said lazily, waving a hand. “If any of you take a fancy to someone, feel free to take them away and enjoy yourselves. They’re all lowborn wretches, so if you play with them to death, the responsibility is mine. Tonight, this prince is treating everyone. Aren’t you all overwhelmed with gratitude? Come on, shower me with thanks, praise me loudly, and applaud my generosity!”
The guests immediately began singing his praises.
“Lord Wangshu is so generous!”
“As expected of the ruler’s own cousin. Whatever he says, whatever he does, it’s all a matter of a single word. Truly enviable!”
As everyone flattered Murong Lian, they began pulling the unfortunate men and women toward them, making them drink and entertain the guests. The scene quickly dissolved into a haze of debauchery and sordid chaos.
“Beautiful, what’s your name?”
“Come on, fill your big brother’s cup first.”
“You each only want one woman? I’m taking two beauties at once. How could one possibly be enough? We mustn’t disappoint Lord Wangshu by refusing his kindness!”
Mo Xi’s expression grew increasingly grim. He endured it for a long time, but the scene had become so unbearable that he was about to rise and leave when Murong Lian called out with a smiling face.
“Lord Xihe, haven’t you found anyone you like?”
“Lord Wangshu, you’ve had too much to drink.”
Murong Lian burst out laughing.
“I haven’t had too much to drink, and don’t be in such a hurry to leave. The person you want to see has already arrived. It’s just that he’s become rather peculiar. Now that he’s away from Luomei Villa, he feels uneasy instead of relieved. So he’s standing outside by himself, refusing to come in.”
As he spoke, he refilled his cup and drained it in one gulp.
“If you don’t believe me, have a look for yourself.”
Mo Xi turned toward the entrance. Sure enough, the shifting shadows of the beaded curtain revealed a hesitant figure standing behind it. The person seemed painfully cautious, like a wary beast hiding in the darkness, tentatively peering out to see what awaited it.
“See?” Murong Lian asked. “Shall I let him in to keep you company?”
Mo Xi did not answer.
Murong Lian smiled, his cheeks flushed with drink. He stretched lazily and called out, “Hey, everyone, hold on a moment!”
“Lord Wangshu, what is it?”
Murong Lian narrowed his eyes. The contempt and malice on his face seemed to reach their peak in an instant.
“You foolish mortals truly have no manners. Every one of you is in such a hurry to embrace a beauty that you’ve forgotten your esteemed Lord Xihe is still sitting there with empty arms!”
Mo Xi: “…”
Normally, who would dare joke around with Mo Xi like this? But most of these young masters were useless aristocrats who avoided the battlefield at the slightest injury and stayed in bed at the slightest serious illness. Few had ever actually worked alongside Mo Xi. And now, with drink clouding their minds, they had become even less restrained.
One of them slurred, “Lord Xihe, the capital isn’t like the military camp. B-beauties are everywhere here, and the ones under Lord Wangshu are especially peerless. Why do you keep turning them… turning them down?”
“Lord Xihe is in the prime of his life, yet he’s always occupied with military affairs. He ought to relax once in a while!”
“Exactly! Marshal Mo has been to the Asura Hall countless times, yet he’s never once stepped behind a blue gauze curtain. Life is short, so seize the moment and enjoy yourself! Hahaha!”
Of everyone present, Yue Chenqing was among the more sober ones. Seeing Mo Xi’s expression, he sensed that something terrible was about to happen and hurriedly said, “Bah! Bah! Bah! Will all of you shut up already?”
Mo Xi glanced at him, thinking that for once the boy seemed to have grown serious.
Then Yue Chenqing continued, “If you keep running your mouths, Marshal Mo is going to go berserk and start killing people. I’m getting out of here first!”
Mo Xi: “………………”
The guests exchanged glances, half drunk and half awake, wearing foolish smiles as though they could barely understand what was going on.
In the agonizing silence, Murong Lian cast a sidelong glance through his peach-blossom eyes. His gaze was hazy with intoxication, yet still carried a chill.
“Lord Xihe, there are more than a dozen stunning beauties here. You don’t want the women, and you don’t want the men. Ah, I think I understand…”
He smiled maliciously.
“What you really want is your enemy, isn’t it?”
Then he turned toward the beaded curtain and shouted:
“Bring in the traitorous general Gu Mang—and present him to our Marshal Mo!”