Blood dripped down, one drop at a time.
Murong Lian clutched his shoulder, blood seeping through the gaps between his fingers. Before long, the crimson liquid had soaked through the silk of his robes.
The people standing nearby paled at the sight and stammered, “M-My Lord…”
No one had expected Murong Lian to be the one who ended up injured. The entire Wangshu Residence immediately descended into chaos.
“Quick, get the medicine! Bring the Healing Spirit Powder!”
“Hurry, hurry! A tourniquet! Get a tourniquet!”
Murong Lian’s face had turned ashen. He had no idea what had happened. At the very instant the dagger came down, a red lotus emblem had suddenly appeared on Gu Mang’s neck. A surge of spiritual energy erupted around him, and dozens of invisible swords of light shot into the air. Not only did they knock the dagger from Murong Lian’s hand, they also blasted him several yards backward!
Even his shoulder had been grazed…
Murong Lian said nothing, biting down hard on his lower lip. His expression was a complicated mixture of fury, shock, and utter humiliation, causing his face to turn alternately pale and red. After a moment, he steadied himself and gathered blue light in his palm, managing to stop the bleeding for the time being. Then he exploded in anger.
“Gu Mang!!”
Gu Mang had already seized the opportunity to run behind the table. He was rubbing his bare feet together as he watched Murong Lian, his gaze both highly alert and utterly innocent.
Everyone in Wangshu Residence stood dumbfounded. Meanwhile, the swords of light continued to flicker in the air, encircling Gu Mang and protecting him at the center of their formation.
After a moment of silence, a young noble who had previously visited Luomei Villa to seek out Gu Mang suddenly seemed to realize something.
“Oh! I get it now! It’s that formation!”
“What formation?” Murong Lian demanded furiously. “If you know something, then spit it out!”
“This formation… I only learned of it by chance, and to be honest, the circumstances were rather embarrassing…”
“Speak!!”
“Yes, Lord Wangshu!” Seeing Murong Lian’s fury, the young noble hurriedly explained, “It’s like this. If someone attacks him with magic, the formation won’t activate. But if they simply use their fists and feet to beat him, and make him feel frightened, numerous swords of light will burst out from his body. That’s also…” He hesitated, visibly embarrassed, but forced himself to finish. “That’s also why, despite Gu Mang having been at Luomei Villa for so long, no one has ever really been able to do anything to him…”
Mo Xi paused slightly when he heard this.
Murong Lian, however, failed to notice Mo Xi’s brief reaction. Still seething with rage, he glared at Gu Mang across the table.
“What kind of stupid, ridiculous formation is this?!”
The young noble shook his head. “Gu Mang used to be a genius at spellcraft. Back then, he invented who knows how many incantations of his own. Most of them were utterly pointless, serving no purpose beyond making the young ladies giggle. Perhaps this was another little spell he came up with for fun when he was younger.”
His explanation reminded the others of something, too.
Even now, the library of the cultivation academy still housed some scrolls that Gu Mang had scribbled on and altered during his youth. They were covered in all sorts of bizarre little spells: one that could instantly reheat cold dishes, another that could turn the caster into a cat for the duration of one incense stick, and yet another that conjured a ball of fire one could tuck inside one’s robes to keep warm in winter. And so on.
The most widely circulated was a spell called The General Is Always Right. According to legend, Gu Mang had often skipped the long, tedious military meetings back when he served in the army. To keep his commander from noticing, he had specifically devised a spell that could transform a piece of wood into his own likeness, leaving it behind to sit through the general’s endless droning while he himself slipped away to enjoy life somewhere else…
“Now that you mention it, that really does sound like something he’d do.”
“Exactly! A formation that blocks punches and kicks but not magic? Absurd. It’s obviously not any proper defensive formation.”
“Gu Mang always did love messing around with all sorts of nonsense. Still, it seems his pointless little spell accidentally ended up protecting him.” Someone chuckled. “Otherwise, he would have been killed in bed ages ago, wouldn’t he? After all, there must be plenty of people in Chonghua who want to sleep with him. Too bad no one has been able to break that formation.”
Yue Chenqing, who had been listening nearby, scratched his head and muttered, “Damn, what kind of formation is that? A ‘Chastity Preservation Formation’?”
“Oh, please. Gu Mang preserving his chastity?” Another young noble laughed. Lowering his voice, he joked with Yue Chenqing, “We might as well turn it into a couplet.”
“Gu Mang preserves his chastity,” Yue Chenqing repeated with interest. “Then what’s the second line?”
“Mo Xi is worse than a beast.”
Yue Chenqing slapped his thigh and burst out laughing. “Hahahahaha—!”
“What are you laughing at?!”
Murong Lian abruptly cut them off, his anger turning to embarrassment. “Have you no manners? Watch yourself, or I’ll make sure your father suffers for this!”
“I didn’t do anything! I wouldn’t dare!” Yue Chenqing hurriedly protested. “Besides, as long as Lord Wangshu is happy, I don’t mind if you make my father wear shoes that are too small. Hell, you can even make him wear women’s shoes!”
Murong Lian shot him a glare. Thinking of how he had failed to command any respect at tonight’s banquet—and had instead suffered a scar and lost face—he felt even more humiliated. He turned away and snapped, “Why hasn’t anyone come yet?!”
“At your command, my lord!”
Murong Lian flicked his sleeve and pointed at Gu Mang. “Take that stupid pig away. I don’t want to see him again. Also, bring a few more sensible, clever, and obedient ones over from Luomei Villa. As for his punishment…”
He ground his teeth, the corner of his eye catching Mo Xi’s still-dark expression.
“Marshal Mo… don’t you have anything to say?”
Before Mo Xi could answer, Li Junlei’s voice suddenly sounded inside his head.
【Warning! Seize this opportunity to request that Gu Mang be transferred to your residence. Complete the plotline of bringing Gu Mang back to your estate as soon as possible!】
Mo Xi had never liked being forced into anything. At that moment, he was even more irritated than usual.
Rejected, he replied internally.
【Failure to complete this plotline will result in a 100% deduction from your character fidelity rating—】
Mo Xi cut it off impatiently. “Isn’t my character supposed to be sworn enemies with Gu Mang?”
【…Yes.】 For some reason, Li Junlei’s usually cold, mechanical voice sounded a little guilty.
“Then I can bring him back to my residence, but not now. If I take him away at this moment, I’ll be helping my sworn enemy out of trouble.”
【…】
Li Junlei fell silent. After a while, another voice spoke—Gu Mang’s voice from the character reference guide.
【Lord Xihe truly should not have any further entanglements with Gu Mang. That single “Wait!” earlier was already inappropriate. Gu Mang is guilty of the grave crime of treason. What is there about him that deserves such protection?】
Li Junlei: 【But…】
Character Guide: 【There are no buts.】
Li Junlei hesitated for a moment before conceding.
【…Fine. Rejection approved.】
“…”
It seemed these two systems were like two different antivirus programs that could somehow attack each other.
Mo Xi vaguely sensed that their conversations always seemed to conceal something, but he could not figure out what it was. Meanwhile, Murong Lian was still waiting for his answer.
Mo Xi paused, raised his eyes to meet Murong Lian’s aggressive gaze, and replied coolly, “Gu Mang belongs to Lord Wangshu’s household. You may deal with him as you see fit. Why ask me?”
“Fine. Since that’s what you say.”
Murong Lian gave a scornful laugh and turned to issue his orders.
“Take him away. Eighty lashes, and cut his food allowance for a month.”
He paused, his voice practically dripping with the stench of blood.
“If he starves to death, so be it.”
“…”
Gu Mang was dragged away. The servants of Wangshu Residence came to clear the wreckage from the table and lay out several new dishes. The banquet resumed.
Amid the murmurs and sighs of the crowd, Mo Xi alone remained silent. As the clinking of cups and renewed chatter filled the room, he lifted his eyes and stared pensively at the spot where Gu Mang had been taken away. Thinking of the swords of light that had floated around Gu Mang, he slowly clenched his fingers in the shadows, where no one could see.
Mo Xi did not enjoy drinking, and he hated being hungover even more.
Yet after returning from Wangshu Residence that day, he sat alone in the desolate courtyard of his own estate, knocked open a jar of aged wine, and drank cup after cup until not a drop remained.
As he gazed at the Wu Hook constellation hanging in the sky, the clouds parting to reveal a clear, snow-bright night, he suddenly asked the steward standing beside him, “Li Wei. How many years have you served me?”
“In answer to Your Lordship, seven years.”
Mo Xi murmured, “Seven years…”
Seven years ago, Lord Xihe had pursued Gu Mang after the latter defected to the enemy. He had ventured deep into enemy territory, only to be stabbed in the chest by Gu Mang and left hovering between life and death. Mo Xi had lain unconscious in bed, and it was then that Li Wei had been ordered by the sovereign to come to Xihe Residence and look after him.
So much time had passed already.
In the book and outside it, everything is just as heartless. It’s all the same.
Mo Xi thought bitterly.
So why, exactly, can’t I let go? And why can’t I forget?
After drinking so much, he was inevitably a little tipsy. Unwilling to lose control of his reason, he shook his head when Li Wei moved to refill his cup, indicating that he had had enough.
Li Wei obeyed.
There were few people who could remain composed in the presence of beauty, or resist becoming drunk in the presence of fine wine. Fewer still could truly control their desires, knowing when to indulge and when to hold back. Mo Xi was one of them.
“What do you think of Gu Mang and me?” Mo Xi asked suddenly.
Li Wei froze. After some hesitation, he answered, “…N-not very compatible?”
“What do you mean, compatible? We’re both men. What does compatibility have to do with anything? You must have had too much to drink as well.” Mo Xi glared at him. “Try again.”
Only then did Li Wei understand. He smiled and said, “Oh, you mean your relationship? Everyone knows it’s bad.”
“And what was it like before?”
“Before…” Li Wei pondered for a moment. “I wasn’t fortunate enough to serve at Your Lordship’s side back then, but I heard that you and Marshal Gu were senior and junior fellow disciples at the academy, comrades in the army, and the Empire’s two great marshals. And then there’s…” He trailed off with a sigh. “Well, I don’t know. I can’t think of anything else. Some people say you and Marshal Gu were quite close back then. Others say Marshal Gu was like the sun, warming everyone equally, so perhaps he wasn’t actually all that close to you either. That’s about it.”
Mo Xi nodded without comment.
Fellow disciples. Comrades in arms. The Empire’s two great marshals.
That was how most people understood the relationship between Mo Xi and Gu Mang. There seemed to be nothing wrong with that impression.
Curious, Li Wei asked, “Then what was it really like?”
“Gu Mang and me?” Mo Xi actually smiled faintly. His long eyelashes lowered, and something bitter seemed to hide in the curve of his smile. “It’s hard to say. There’s no way to explain it properly.”
After a pause, he added softly, “And it’s not something that should be spoken of.”
No one in Chonghua would ever believe that, to the Mo Xi of the past, Gu Mang had been like a clear spring to a traveler on the verge of dying of thirst.
Before meeting Gu Mang, Mo Xi had had ambitions and a strong sense of responsibility. He was resolute and unafraid of hardship. But deep in his heart, what he carried most of all was hatred.
As a boy, he had once treated everyone with such sincerity. He had admired his father, obeyed his mother, been close to his uncle, and treated the servants with kindness. Yet what had he received in return? His father had died in battle. His mother had betrayed him. His uncle had plunged the family into chaos. And one servant after another had learned to read the room, calling him their young master to his face while secretly working for his uncle.
He had looked around himself in every direction and found that there was not a single person he could trust.
At the time, he had not understood what he had done so terribly wrong to deserve such cruel treatment from fate.
But just as in the real world, no matter how unfairly fate treated him, it had eventually shown a trace of compassion and given him Gu Mang.
Gu Mang, back then, had been so kind and so upright. Though he was merely a slave, with a status so low it seemed buried in the dust, he had still struggled to breathe in every last scrap of kindness life offered him, then fought with all his might to make a tiny flower bloom from it.
He never complained about anything, nor did he blame anyone. When Mo Xi first joined him in exorcising demons and vanquishing evil spirits, he had been ill-tempered and had snapped at Gu Mang more times than he could count. Yet Gu Mang had simply laughed and put up with him.
He was always making allowances for other people’s difficulties, even though his own life was already so painfully hard.
As for the impersonation incident, Gu Mang had known perfectly well that he would be punished for it, perhaps even stripped of his right to cultivate at the academy. Yet he had insisted on going through with it. And after the truth came to light, when he knelt on the academy’s platform of repentance, he offered no defense whatsoever. He merely put on a shameless grin and claimed he had done it because he thought it would be fun.
But what kind of slave would throw away a hard-won chance to rise above his station just for fun?
The truth was obvious. He had personally witnessed the villagers suffering year after year from miasmatic epidemics, their bodies wracked by illness and pain.
He simply could not bear it.
But his status was too low—so low that even if he lowered himself as far as he could and whispered the quietest words imaginable, saying, I just wanted to save people, he would still be mercilessly ridiculed.
Even if he tore open his own burning chest and showed them the heart inside, a heart so distressed it was close to breaking, they would only mock his fervor, question his kindness, scorn his delusions of grandeur, and laugh at the sincerity that made him tremble.
He knew all of that.
And so he said nothing in his own defense.
People liked to say that those who prospered should help the world, while those who struggled should focus on cultivating their own virtue. Yet Gu Mang himself was in such a wretched position. He was merely a lowly slave in Wangshu Residence, someone who should have been worrying about where his next meal would come from and how to please his master. Instead, he had taken it upon himself to save the sick and rescue the dying.
What a laughable, presumptuous fool.
And yet it was precisely that presumptuousness, that burning, passionate heart of his, that had pulled Mo Xi back from the brink when he had all but lost faith in human nature.
The Gu Mang inside the book was the same as the Gu Mang outside it.
Whether destitute or triumphant, he was the hero Mo Xi had first known.
“My lord.” Li Wei’s voice gently interrupted his reverie. “The night is deep, and the dew is heavy. You should retire.”
Mo Xi did not answer immediately. His hand remained raised to his brow, shielding his eyes. At the sound of the steward’s voice, he turned his face slightly, his fingers trembling faintly, as though he were wiping something away.
After a while, he spoke in a low, quiet voice.
“Li Wei.”
“I’m here.”
“…Do you think it’s possible that Gu Mang never actually lost his memory?”
Li Wei froze. “What?”
Mo Xi still did not raise his eyes. His deep-set features remained hidden beneath the shadow of his hand, and his low voice carried a slight nasal tremor.
“Do you think he might be pretending? That there’s actually nothing wrong with his mind?”
“How could that be possible?” Li Wei’s eyes widened. “Gu Mang’s condition was confirmed by the Shennong Terrace. Even Doctor Jiang, the finest physician in all of Chonghua, examined him. His spiritual core is shattered, his mind is damaged, and he thinks he’s a wolf—”
“Have you ever seen a wolf that would rather be injured itself than hurt someone else?!”
Mo Xi suddenly lifted his head and demanded the answer in a sharp voice.
Li Wei was stunned.
Was it just his imagination? Lord Xihe’s eyes seemed faintly red and moist.
“M-My lord, what makes you say that…?”
Mo Xi closed his eyes briefly. His anger was not directed at Li Wei. He simply could not bear to hear another word suggesting that Gu Mang remembered nothing.
“At Wangshu Residence, Murong Lian gave him two choices: cripple one of my arms, or let his own face be slashed.”
Mo Xi turned his head and gazed at the swaying shadows of the trees. After a long while, he murmured, “He chose the former.”
Li Wei: “…”
“Tell me, what kind of wolf would make such a choice?”
Li Wei thought to himself: Tell you? What am I supposed to tell you?! Look at that temper of yours! If I said that perhaps Gu Mang simply hadn’t understood what Lord Wangshu was asking him, wouldn’t you jump up and kick me to death?!