The Imperial Army’s sacrificial procession was solemn and majestic.
With ceremonial halberds held high, they traveled eastward from the Imperial Capital, moving grandly toward the Soul-Calling Abyss.
The journey would take approximately three days.
By the evening of the first day, they arrived beside the Fu River.
The servants began setting up camp and preparing residences for the lords, while the nobles were summoned to the royal tent for dinner.
When Mo Xi entered, most of the nobles had already arrived.
Inside the enormous tent expanded by magic, more than a hundred seats had been arranged.
A maid led him to his place.
He glanced across the aisle.
Murong Lian was seated opposite him.
Like all the aristocratic descendants attending the ceremony, Murong Lian was dressed in sacrificial robes.
His elaborate sapphire-blue ceremonial robe was embroidered with bat patterns, and a blue-gold headband was properly tied around his forehead, making his already pale and sickly face appear even more fragile.
The Wangshu Manor and the Mo Clan were both prestigious families that had produced countless heroes.
With the blessings of his ancestors, Murong Lian had every qualification to wear the first-rank headband.
However, everyone present had their own measure in their hearts.
They knew clearly which descendants were worthy of the glory of their heroic ancestors.
And which heirs had trampled upon the blood and sacrifices of those who came before them.
Once everyone had arrived, the Emperor spoke.
“You have all traveled for an entire day. Everyone must be tired. Serve the dishes.”
Palace maidens entered gracefully carrying trays.
They knelt before each noble with elegant movements, pouring wine and arranging the food.
Since they were traveling, the meal was not overly elaborate.
There were four cold dishes, four hot dishes, and one main course.
Yet every dish had been prepared with exquisite care.
The four cold dishes were crystal pork slices, mixed crispy shredded vegetables, sweet osmanthus lotus root, and frost-sky fish slices.
The four hot dishes were scallion-oil four-gilled sea bass, stir-fried eel with shrimp, steamed crab dipped in vinegar, and lotus pond vegetable stir-fry.
The main dish was the imperial kitchen’s specialty—crab roe soup dumplings.
Mo Xi had argued with Gu Mang the previous night, and his mood was terrible.
He could barely eat anything.
Instead, he drank several more cups of wine than usual.
Actually, every year’s final sacrificial ceremony in Chonghua was less a simple memorial ceremony and more an explanation given to the deceased.
How many battles had been won this year?
What treasures had been obtained?
Was the nation peaceful and prosperous?
If the previous year had not gone smoothly, then the atmosphere of the final ceremony would become extremely heavy.
But if Chonghua’s fortune was flourishing, then it became more like comforting the heroic spirits in heaven.
During the banquet, everyone would drink freely and celebrate.
“This year, although Xi has rested and recovered from illness, and there were some difficulties, it can still be considered a good year.”
“Haha, yes. The eastern border also reclaimed lost territory earlier. That is certainly something worth celebrating.”
Not far away, Yue Chenqing was pestering his little uncle, speaking in whispers.
“Fourth Uncle, fourth uncle, you like this sweet lotus root the most. If it’s not enough, I’ll give you mine too!”
His father, Yue Juntian, had returned to the capital not long ago.
Naturally, he had also attended this final ceremony.
Seeing his son once again clinging to Murong Chuyi and trying to please him, he felt somewhat embarrassed.
He coughed twice and glared warningly at Yue Chenqing.
Seeing this scene, Mo Xi could not help but remember the first time Gu Mang had attended such a sacrificial ceremony.
Back then, Gu Mang had only recently been granted a title by the previous Emperor.
He was full of ambition.
He had even been allowed, as an exception, to participate in this ceremony that was originally reserved only for imperial relatives and nobles.
That year, Gu Mang had been incredibly happy because of this honor.
His seat had been right beside Mo Xi’s.
Unable to contain his excitement, he kept talking to Mo Xi.
At that time, he had also been just like Yue Chenqing, smiling brightly as he said:
“This fish sashimi is really delicious. I heard the imperial chef made it from fresh carp caught in the Fu River. Try it and see if you like it.”
Mo Xi closed his eyes.
The strong wine slid down his throat.
Until the banquet ended, he had not touched the frost-sky fish slices on the table even once.
Returning to his camp area, Mo Xi was preparing to rest when he saw the captain of the guard he had brought with him pacing anxiously in the wind.
The moment the captain saw him, he immediately approached.
“Lord!”
Mo Xi looked up.
“What happened?”
“I… Butler Li ordered me to watch over Gu Mang and make sure he takes his medicine. But I just went to his tent to find him, and he was gone. He didn’t even eat dinner with us. I don’t know where he ran off to…”
Mo Xi was not overly worried.
The slave-binding ring was on Gu Mang’s body, so he could sense that Gu Mang was still somewhere within this camp.
He sighed.
“Give me the medicine pouch. Go rest.”
“B-but you…”
The captain swallowed the rest of his words.
Was the Lord really going to personally handle such a trivial matter?
Mo Xi did not want to explain.
He only repeated:
“Go.”
Since Mo Xi had already said so, the captain, even if he felt it was inappropriate, would not dare say more.
He respectfully handed over the medicine pouch and left according to orders.
At night beside the Fu River, the wind was fierce.
Mo Xi stood there for a while, letting the remaining effects of the alcohol fade.
Then he walked around the area belonging to his own camp.
Gu Mang was indeed still there.
He was leaning against the back of a cedar tree, curled into a ball, already asleep.
Mo Xi lowered his gaze and stared at him for a while.
Slowly, he crouched down, half-kneeling before him.
The anger from last night had not completely disappeared.
The atmosphere between them remained awkward.
After a long silence, Mo Xi finally said:
“…Wake up. Go sleep inside the tent.”
He truly did not understand.
Everyone had their own tent.
They had already been prepared.
Yet Gu Mang insisted on running beneath a tree and using the sky as his blanket and the earth as his bed.
“Wake up.”
He called several times.
Gu Mang did not move.
Mo Xi grew slightly impatient and reached out to push him.
But unexpectedly—
With that single push, Gu Mang fell sideways onto the ground like a scarecrow.
Moonlight filtered through the scattered needles of the cedar trees and illuminated his face.
That face was completely flushed with an unhealthy redness.
His normally pale skin looked as if it had been steamed in warm mist.
His eyes were tightly closed.
His long eyelashes trembled.
His damp lips parted slightly as he struggled to breathe.
His brows were unconsciously twisted in pain.
Mo Xi froze.
“Gu Mang?”
He reached out to touch his forehead.
It was shockingly hot.
Mo Xi immediately helped the feverish, unconscious Gu Mang up and carried him back to his small tent.
Fortunately, the Xihe Manor’s camp was located in a secluded area, and everyone had already rested.
No one saw this scene.
Mo Xi lifted the tent flap and placed Gu Mang onto the bed.
Gu Mang regained a little awareness.
He opened his hazy eyes and looked at Mo Xi vaguely.
Suddenly, as if he realized something, he struggled to get up and climb off the bed.
Mo Xi pressed him down with one hand.
Suppressing his worry, he gritted his teeth and whispered:
“Lie down. What are you making trouble for?”
Gu Mang bit his wet lower lip.
The blue color in his eyes seemed like it might melt into mist and spill out.
Mo Xi stared at him.
His heartbeat suddenly accelerated.
He unconsciously tightened his fingers, straightened up, and moved away from him.
But Gu Mang continued staring blankly.
Or perhaps he was not looking at Mo Xi.
The light in his eyes was focused more on the silk band worn by Mo Xi.
The feverish man opened his mouth, wanting to say something.
But when he actually tried to speak, he no longer knew what he wanted to say.
So he bit his lip again.
After a while, he suddenly tried to get up.
Mo Xi immediately held him down.
“What are you doing?”
Gu Mang was already delirious from the fever.
He grabbed Mo Xi’s robe hem stubbornly, trying to crawl down onto the ground.
Mo Xi shouted:
“Gu Mang!”
Hearing his own name seemed to bring back a little awareness.
Gu Mang shrank back.
His body curled even more.
He looked almost pitiful and submissive.
Like a pile of mud.
He clung to the edge of the bed and tried to roll down.
But Mo Xi stopped him.
He could not leave.
Gu Mang stared blankly for a while.
Then he murmured:
“Let me down…”
“Please… let me go down…”
“You have a fever. Lie down.”
“Let me go down…”
“I don’t want…”
“I don’t want to stay here…”
Mo Xi’s heart hurt.
He was angry.
Annoyed.
Frustrated.
Burning.
He lifted Gu Mang again, trying to make him lie down.
But Gu Mang refused.
This time, he suddenly grabbed Mo Xi’s robe tightly.
His burning forehead pressed against Mo Xi’s waist.
“I don’t want to sleep here…”
That neck that had always refused to bow truly seemed as though it could break at any moment.
Gu Mang rested against him.
His consciousness was already blurred.
He wanted to push Mo Xi away.
Yet he felt as though he had grabbed onto something warm.
Like a person drifting in an icy river suddenly holding onto a piece of driftwood.
He pushed.
But in the end, he only helplessly held on.
Gu Mang wrapped his arms around Mo Xi’s waist.
His face rested against Mo Xi’s side.
His hoarse voice murmured:
“Your bed…”
“is too clean…”
Mo Xi froze.
“What?”
Gu Mang suddenly choked.
“I am…”
“dirty…”
Mo Xi felt as if something heavy had struck his chest.
The pain was unbearable.
Yet the person holding him continued trembling and mumbling incoherently.
Whether from the fever or fear of something else, he did not know.
He held onto him.
His voice was almost a broken sob.
“I don’t know…”
“I don’t know how to sleep…”
“Without…”
“making it dirty…”
“So…”
“Let me leave…”
“Let me…”
“Go…”
Mo Xi softly asked:
“Where will you go?”
Gu Mang seemed struck by the question.
He opened his eyes blankly.
The sound from his throat was almost a sob.
“I…”
“I don’t know either…”
Mo Xi felt as though a bitter fruit was stuck in his throat.
He lowered his head and looked at him.
For a moment, he could not say anything.
I am already dirty.
Covered in filth.
I don’t know where I should go.
I don’t know where I should go…
Mo Xi’s heart twisted painfully.
From this angle, he could vaguely see half of Gu Mang’s face.
The faint red mark from yesterday’s slap was still visible.
That slap…
He truly had not held back at all.
“Do you know how filthy you are?”
The words still echoed in his ears.
Did he regret it?
No.
No.
His heart had already become like solid stone.
He did not regret it.
Only—
Only he did not understand why a bright smiling face suddenly appeared before his eyes.
A memory from a year when they were both still young.
Back then, there had been no tender love between them.
They were simply ordinary comrades-in-arms.
He had fallen into an ambush.
Trapped among enemies.
Waiting desperately for reinforcements.
He waited for a long time.
Until he nearly gave up on life.
Then the world turned crimson.
His Gu-shixiong came riding toward him.
Silver armor shining beneath the sun.
Armor light illuminating the sky.
Gu Mang dismounted and hugged his injured junior brother tightly.
Mo Xi’s body was covered in poisonous liquid sprayed by the vicious beasts of the Liao Kingdom.
His dry lips moved weakly.
“Let go…”
“Shidi!”
Mo Xi gasped.
“Don’t touch me…”
“My body…”
“is dirty…”
“Covered in poisonous blood…”
It was dirty.
It would stain him too.
It would make him sick.
He and Gu Mang were merely comrades who had fought one battle together.
They were not family.
So why would Gu Mang…
Share his wounds?
But what had Gu Mang said to him back then?
That sealed, distant memory he had always refused to revisit suddenly surged out violently.
Gu Mang had said:
“Don’t be afraid.”
“Shixiong will stay with you.”
There would always be someone willing to brave life and death.
Someone who would pull you out from poison and filth.
It was fine.
I am not afraid.
Since I chose this path.
Since I stepped onto the battlefield.
I never planned to return without wounds.
Whether noble, slave, or commoner—
you and I are comrades.
This calamity, I will share life and death with you.
I, Gu Mang, was born a slave.
This is the first chance I have ever had to prove myself.
I am not afraid of dying.
I only want Chonghua to see.
I only want the Emperor to see.
I only want all of you to understand…
Even a slave buried beneath humiliation—
is the same as you.
The same blood.
The same loyalty.
The same willingness to share life and death.
I deserve your call of “senior brother.”
I deserve your call of “brother.”
Let the blood stain me.
Give me your hand.
Even if you are dirty—
I will hold you.
Even if it hurts—
I will stay with you.
Even if the road is far—
I will bring you home.
Mo Xi’s heart felt as if an invisible claw had seized it.
Tearing it apart until blood and flesh were exposed.
On one side was hatred for his fallen homeland.
On the other was a debt of deepest kindness.
Why?
Why was the person who gave him the greatest pain and the greatest love—
the same person?!
He was pushed to the edge.
He could no longer breathe.
Inside the dim candlelight, he stared at Gu Mang’s face.
With hatred.
With love.
With—
With unbearable suffering.
Holding me is fine.
I am not afraid.
I am not afraid.
Mo Xi suddenly closed his eyes.
After a long silence, the candle flame flickered.
He bent down, lifted Gu Mang horizontally into his arms, walked out of the small tent, and entered his own tent.
He gently placed the feverish Gu-shixiong onto his own wide, soft bed covered with thick snow fox fur blankets.
He raised his hand.
After hesitating for a moment, he finally touched Gu Mang’s burning cheek.
Just that light touch.
Yet Gu Mang reacted as if he had been frightened by yesterday’s slap.
With his eyes half closed, he instinctively trembled.
“…”
Mo Xi slowly lowered his hand.
He sat beside the bed.
After a long while, he buried his face in his slender hands.
Inside the tent, candlelight flowed.
His figure looked exhausted.
As if he would be torn apart by countless heavy yet contradictory emotions.
After some time, Gu Mang could no longer endure and fell asleep.
Mo Xi turned back and looked at the man curled beside him.
He stared for a very long time.
He felt that he had gone completely mad.
The sacrificial ceremony…
Was meant to honor the heroic souls of those who died.
To honor those who had fallen beneath Gu Mang’s hands.
But himself…
What was he doing?
Taking care of a traitor?
He closed his eyes.
Then stood up and walked out of the tent.
The medicine pouch was still beside him.
Originally, he had planned to make Gu Mang drink it immediately.
But now…
He would wait until Gu Mang slept a little longer.
Mo Xi stood outside, letting the night wind blow against him.
His thoughts were a complete mess.
Although he did not want to show Gu Mang any more tenderness,
he still could not forget that the guard captain had said Gu Mang had not even eaten dinner.
After hesitating and struggling for a long time,
he finally walked toward the imperial kitchen’s camp.