WITH A GESTURE from Taxian-jun, the little dragon tightened its coils. Shi Mei paled, visibly pained, but his pride wouldn't allow him to drop his facade of calm. "Mo Ran, you dare to spy on me?"
Taxian-jun burst into laughter. "You jest. Tell me, what doesn't this venerable one dare to do?"
Shi Mei glowered.
"A quick introduction. This fine fellow is a vessel of the demon dragon of Mount Jiao, Wangli. It only obeys the commands of the Nangong clan." Taxian-jun cast him a sly glance. "To show such presumption with this venerable one's things in this venerable one's own territory—you must've really grown sick of living."
A vein pulsed at Shi Mei's temple, betraying what was certainly apoplectic rage. He'd never imagined the blood oath with Mount Jiao could be used in this fashion, and he was well and truly caught. He didn't dare push Taxian-jun, so he could only retort, "Take this foul thing away."
Taxian-jun stared openly at the object the dragon was coiled around before scoffing. "Then you'd better make sure you never take that disgusting thing of yours out again."
Already enraged by the interruption, Shi Mei rumbled darkly, "Who are you calling disgusting?"
"Whoever's tied up."
Chu Wanning stared.
Glancing at the bound Chu Wanning, Taxian-jun frowned and tried again. "Whoever's naked."
Chu Wanning was still staring. Having stepped in it twice already, Taxian-jun waved his hands. "This venerable one doesn't mean you."
"Mo Ran, you're ridiculous," Shi Mei proclaimed. Despite his words, he pulled his robe back on, then looked at Mo Ran again. "Now will you release it?"
"There's no hurry. Leave this room and walk away. Once you reach the back hills, it'll release you on its own," Taxian-jun said smugly. "But let this venerable one leave you with one reminder—if you ever think of touching this venerable one's property again…it already knows your scent. Even if you're beyond the bounds of Mount Jiao, it will find you and choke you to death."
Having no inhibitions made one unstoppable, and Taxian-jun's inhibitions could be counted in the negative. Shi Mei stormed out in a rage, leaving the emperor and the Beidou Immortal alone in the room.
Taxian-jun walked over to Chu Wanning and raised a hand—yet he saw that Chu Wanning's eyes, filled with sharp enmity, also shimmered with tears. Chu Wanning flinched away, no doubt reminded of Taxian-jun's violence during those long years as his prisoner.
Taxian-jun sighed inwardly as he brought his hand to Chu Wanning's forehead. Even he wasn't sure where this wisp of softness had come from. "Not so warm anymore," he said expressionlessly. "He might be useless, but his medicines are effective."
After a pause, he continued in cold tones. "I won't let that brute humiliate you again. No one is allowed to touch what belongs to this venerable one. You don't need to worry."
He had no clue Shi Mei had erased Chu Wanning's memories, temporarily returning him to the past life, and was thus oblivious to the shock that coursed through Chu Wanning at these words.
Mo Ran had called Shi Mei a brute…
Taxian-jun didn't notice Chu Wanning's expression. In fact, he'd avoided looking directly at Chu Wanning this entire time. He knew himself too well—if he looked too long at the sight before him, he'd lose control. There was no way Chu Wanning could endure any more rough handling in his current state.
In the past, he might not have cared. But he'd been so lonely in that other world for so very long. Unable to commit to either life or death, he was forced into this liminal existence as an incomplete revenant. Seeing Chu Wanning again seemed to have awakened some indistinct warmth in his frozen heart. He wasn't as rash as he used to be.
Taxian-jun untied Chu Wanning. Upon seeing the red welts on his wrists, he began to unconsciously massage the skin there, then quickly stopped when he realized what he was doing.
He really didn't know what was wrong with him.
The minutes dripped by. Shi Mei's spell began to weaken, and Chu Wanning's gaze again grew misty and unfocused. But even amidst the chaotic tangle of his thoughts, he pushed through the pain to speak through bloodless lips. "Mo Ran…he's back."
Whether it was dream or reality was no longer important. All that mattered was that Mo Ran's long-held wish had finally come true.
"So…" he rasped. "Don't feel hatred anymore."
Taxian-jun stared at him.
Perhaps because he thought the dream was about to end, Chu Wanning closed his eyes and extended a hand, chafed raw, to caress Taxian-jun's face. "Turn back."
Something seemed to collapse in Taxian-jun's heart. He stared at Chu Wanning, unblinking, confusion obscuring his features like a faint haze of clouds.
Chu Wanning furrowed his brow, voice rough with tears. "There's no way forward. Turn back… Stop heading down that path." He cupped Taxian-jun's face in his palm. Two lifetimes had left them both in ruins. The Beidou Immortal, his awareness flickering between two lives, gazed at the corpse of Emperor Taxian-jun. "Mo Ran," he rasped. "Why is your face so cold…?"
It's cold as ice. If I could, I'd be the candle waiting at the fork in your winter road. I'd burn my entire life up to light your way home. Why are you so cold…?
I don't know how long I can burn for you. What if my life is exhausted, what if I burn out? What if my flame is extinguished, but you're still walking into the darkness, refusing to turn back? What would I do then?
Chu Wanning's fingers trembled. He closed his eyes.
He'd ever been solitary in life, without friends or kin, and he didn't fear death. But what if he burned through all his remaining warmth yet failed to thaw Mo Ran's frozen heart? The idea roused a gnawing guilt. What if his flame were to go out, and that youth wanted to turn over a new leaf after, only to find himself unable to retrace his steps?
The thought of it made him yearn to live on, even for just one more day.
Maybe tomorrow, the ice would melt, and that man would turn around, walking out of the endless darkness into the light.
After the damage done by Shi Mei's spell and the turbulence of gaining two lifetimes' worth of memories, Chu Wanning spent the majority of the following days sleeping. When he briefly woke, his mind was muddled, and his sense of reality was scattered and incomplete.
Once Taxian-jun understood the reason behind it, he found Chu Wanning's confusion saved him a good deal of trouble. Chu Wanning was bewildered and easily placated. If Taxian-jun was too harsh one day, it was likely Chu Wanning wouldn't remember any of it the next time he opened his eyes. Because his memories were such a jumble, Chu Wanning always thought he was dreaming and thus let down his guard much more often.
A cat that scratched was interesting in its own way, but a big white cat snoozing in a soft, sweet ball was a rare sight indeed. He had to give it to Hua Binan—it was well done.
Every day, Taxian-jun asked Chu Wanning the same question first thing in the morning. "What do you remember today?"
And every day, Chu Wanning would frown and ask, "What?"
"Are your memories still stuck after our wedding in the past life," Taxian-jun would reply with uncharacteristic patience, "or are they at some other time now?"
At this point, Chu Wanning would probably say curtly, with a look of displeasure, "Mo Weiyu, what nonsense do you speak now?"
In the past life, Taxian-jun would've slapped him for his impudence. Now, Taxian-jun also raised a hand, but his movement slowed as he approached Chu Wanning's face, and his other hand followed. It didn't look like a slap at all—rather, he seemed to be cupping the other man's cheeks. He chuckled, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. "Perfect. It'd be best if we could keep you like this."
He didn't want Chu Wanning to remember what had happened in his current life, or to remember the Mo Weiyu who'd become a zongshi. If Chu Wanning stayed in this state of befuddlement, it would be as though they had returned to Wushan Palace. They could spend their days and nights entwined no matter how much Chu Wanning hated him. His shizun, his Wanning, would again be his and his alone.
"Jealous of your own damn self," mocked Hua Binan. "You're pettier than a woman."
Jealous? thought Taxian-jun. Impossible. Anyone would grow accustomed to something that was around all the time, even if it was a dog or some random object. That was all.
On one particularly sunny day on Mount Jiao, Taxian-jun hauled Chu Wanning outside to sit with him beneath a flowering tangerine tree. He lifted his eyes to those little white flowers dotting the branches and sighed lazily. "Too bad they're not more fragrant. If only it were haitang."
Chu Wanning still thought he was asleep. "How are you so picky even in dreams?"
Taxian-jun rolled over on the grass, then shifted to rest his head on Chu Wanning's knee. They looked at each other, and Taxian-jun spoke. "This venerable one's always been like this. By the way, this venerable one is hungry. When we go back, make a bowl of congee for me. Egg-drop pork congee, but the egg can't be overcooked and the porridge shouldn't be too thick. A little bit of pork will suffice. You know how to make it, right? This venerable one's taught you how, many times."
Chu Wanning had no intention of complying, but between Taxian-jun's hauling him bodily toward the kitchen and his unceasing verbal cajoling, he was left with no other choice. Eventually he followed Taxian-jun into the ancestral hall.
The fire in the kitchen was readied, the rice was washed, and the water was warming up. Taxian-jun sat at the little table, chin resting on his hand as he watched Chu Wanning work at the stove, stewing in helpless irritation.
Thankfully, Chu Wanning thought this was a dream and hadn't put too much effort into his resistance. As for Taxian-jun, he knew this illusion would soon shatter, and so cherished it all the more.
The pot came to a boil, and the aroma of rice and meat wafted up from beneath the wooden lid. Taxian-jun folded his fingers beneath his chin. There was much he wanted to say to Chu Wanning, but there was no real point in voicing it. Nothing would change if he did. In the end, his lips parted, but the only word that came out was an indolent "Oi."
"Huh?"
What was he going to say? Taxian-jun didn't know. After some thought, he said solemnly: "Remember to add salt."
"…I did."
"Then remember to taste it."
Chu Wanning stared at him. There was a glint of relaxed mischief in Taxian-jun's eyes, so dark they looked purple. "Don't think of poisoning this venerable one with salt."
He came up behind Chu Wanning and glanced down into the pot. Without warning, he folded the man's warm figure into his arms. He nuzzled at Chu Wanning's temple, eyes drifting shut. "This venerable one still wants to torment you for the rest of your life."
"Mo Weiyu—"
Feeling Chu Wanning tense in his embrace, Taxian-jun held him tighter. He couldn't resist dropping a kiss on the nape of his neck, lashes fluttering. "What? This venerable one spent so much time teaching you the art of porridge, yet you won't make this venerable one a single bowl?"
This coarse logic reduced Chu Wanning to silence. With great effort, he dredged up some appropriately biting retorts, yet as soon as he tried to speak, his lips were soundly sealed against Taxian-jun's own.
When he held that flame, once lost and now regained, Taxian-jun returned to the warmth of the human world. Amidst the unremarkable scents of domestic life, this dead man walking kissed Chu Wanning freely and passionately, his freezing lips pressed to Chu Wanning's warm ones.
His shizun—his Wanning—his Consort Chu. No one could take him away, and he would never give him up.
Taxian-jun deepened the kiss, head beginning to spin as he pinned Chu Wanning against the table. He claimed Chu Wanning's swollen lips with abandon as his other hand reached up to slide off his clothes.
He'd often done things like this in the past. When he was in this kind of mood, he didn't care even if there were urgent petitioners outside. The wildest instance was one in which desire had seized him in the middle of the day, and he had indulged himself with the newly titled Consort Chu right in the council hall of Wushan Palace. Monks from Wubei Temple had come to bring his attention to the matter of the Drought Demon of the Yellow River and had constantly begged an audience. In irritation, Taxian-jun ordered the veil to be lowered to conceal them from view and allowed the monks inside. Past that gauzy canopy and its tinkling bead veil, he continued ravishing his own shizun on the lounge of patterned red sandalwood.
"Keep it down… I told them I summoned Consort Chu to save you some dignity." He panted atop Chu Wanning. "Make any noise and those bald donkeys will know you're the one in my bed."
"Mo Weiyu…" The eyes of the man beneath him were scarlet with shame. "You bastard!"
Taxian-jun snapped his hips harder in response, filth spilling from his lips. "Baby, that part of you down there is so hot and wet, so why is this part of you up here so bitchy? Hold back your moans, that's all."
When those oblivious monks came in, they beheld through the pale yellow gauze a blurred vision of Taxian-jun's broad back accompanied by a pair of willowy legs, weakly splayed and quivering with each of Taxian-jun's brutal thrusts. Those toes were pale and delicate, trembling like dew-laden lilies of the valley.
The monks' entreaties dissolved into incoherence, not that Mo Ran absorbed much of it anyway. All he retained was the sight of Chu Wanning pushed to his limits yet refusing to make a sound, tears streaming from reddened eyes. His body writhed, bucking as Taxian-jun fucked him to climax, body taut in suffering and suppressed pleasure, biting his lip bloody to remain silent—
It was too fucking arousing. The instant the monks left, Taxian-jun could no longer restrain himself. Hoisting one of Chu Wanning's limp legs up on his shoulder, he fucked him viciously from this new angle. "Wanning, you can let it out now. They're gone."
But Chu Wanning was delirious—his only thought was that he must keep quiet. Taxian-jun leaned forward to capture his bloodied lips, swallowing the taste of copper. "They're gone…"
He flipped Chu Wanning over, pushing him into the lounge and hammering deep into his slick hole. Without letting up for an instant, Taxian-jun reached around to grope at the smooth, firm planes of Chu Wanning's lean chest, throat bobbing as he gasped in the midst of feverish desire, "'S good? Gonna come for me?"
Damp strands of hair tangled over Chu Wanning's eyes; half his handsome face was covered by the mess they'd made of the cushions. Mo Ran's cock was simply too big; with each thrust, Chu Wanning felt his belly was going to be pierced through. He panted, lips parted, fingers fisted tight in the cloth.
The man behind him increased his pace, almost frenzied, until he finally came, burying himself to the hilt. Mo Ran knew where Chu Wanning was most sensitive, knew where to aim so each pulse of his thick, creamy release would hit right where it would make Chu Wanning shudder, make his scalp prickle, make him squeeze his eyes shut and moan. "Ah…"
Even then, Mo Ran was just getting started. It didn't take long for him to harden again, still buried deep inside the man trapped beneath him. Mo Ran flipped Chu Wanning over and stared at him, gaze dark through his own tangled hair, his eyes tracing a heated path over the expanse of his skin from his wet and hazy eyes to his bruised and bitten mouth. Lower, lower, until Mo Ran dove down and took one of Chu Wanning's nipples into his mouth.
Exhausted from their lovemaking, Chu Wanning let out a startled cry as one of his legs was raised up again, only to choke, gasping for breath, as that scalding heat pressed into him once more. "Ah…ah…" He shook his head and, unable to bear the sound of his own coarse moans, bit down on his own hand. Even then, the sounds of their filthy union couldn't be muffled; the frantic pace of their lovemaking had churned Mo Ran's seed within him into a sticky mess between his legs, the brisk slap of flesh on flesh lewd and wet, shattering the light in his eyes into glittering shards.
"Let go, stop biting yourself."
Of course Chu Wanning ignored him. He kept his teeth firmly set in his wrist, refusing to make any sound. Cursing under his breath, Mo Ran braced himself against the lounge with one hand and grabbed Chu Wanning's arm with the other, pulling him almost off the couch. "Hold onto me."
"Wh-what…ah!"
Before Chu Wanning could react, Mo Ran scooped him bodily from the lounge and stood, driving Mo Ran's cock deeper as the weight of Chu Wanning's body sank to meet him.
Smiling softly, Mo Ran kissed him again. "You're not so heavy after all." Still holding him, he walked toward the inner hall.
But that swollen length was still buried deep inside his shizun. Whether purposeful or not, in this position, every step made Mo Ran's hot cockhead, sheathed inside Chu Wanning, press against his most sensitive spot. Every brush against it made his toes curl, yet he still childishly refused to speak or moan. He merely stared, black eyes fierce, at the disciple holding him.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Mo Ran chuckled, coming to a stop and grinding upward. "You want this?"
Chu Wanning flinched.
It was humiliating, but his body had long grown sensitive to Mo Ran's ministrations. Chu Wanning's brows knit together, gasping softly as his cheeks flushed red. He could vividly feel the wetness dripping from where they were joined. Each of Mo Ran's movements made an increasingly bigger mess of them both.
Mo Ran fucked him like this for a while before growing impatient. He looked, eyes shadowed, toward the back hall he had been making for. Irritated at its distance, he pinned Chu Wanning down right on the icy floor of the great hall where court was held every morning. He couldn't wait any longer; the wet heat he was buried in felt so good. He shoved Chu Wanning down onto the stone, driving into him without mercy.
"Ah…ah…" In these wild moments, Chu Wanning felt as if his soul was leaving his body. Not even he could remain lucid amidst the current of this torrential entanglement. His legs dangled loose around Mo Ran's tight waist, and his body shook with every sharp movement of Mo Ran's hips. There were times when he felt he would die—that Mo Ran wanted to kill him, just like this…
Wushan Palace itself seemed to take on a wanton, disheveled appearance; the solemn imperial court was empty save for this pair of naked adversaries. Mo Ran panted raggedly, sweat trickling down the taut lines of his abdomen. He clutched his pleasure-drunk shizun tightly, driving in quick and hard from below. He heard Chu Wanning's low and suppressed murmurs and snatches of helpless whines.
"Wanning…" He captured Chu Wanning's parted lips in another feverish kiss. Exertion had left the veins on Mo Ran's neck bulging, his body as searing as his gaze. He nuzzled against Chu Wanning, their limbs tangling on the floor.
Amidst this lingering kiss and his punishing thrusts, Mo Ran pushed Chu Wanning hard against the stone, covering his mouth and nose with one hand and leaving only those glassy eyes visible.
He pumped twice more, then sank to his full depth inside Chu Wanning, toes going white with strain. "I'm gonna come… Wanning…here?"
Chu Wanning had been driven to the edge of insanity by Mo Ran's monstrous strength and vitality. His hands fell limp to the ice-cold stone, his limbs sprawled, wide and pliant, around Mo Ran as his body shook from mingled thrill and torment.
Mo Ran huffed, voice hoarse and eyes dark. He grabbed Chu Wanning's face and turned it toward him. "Here? Hm?"
The full head of him was pressed right against that deepest bundle of nerves in Chu Wanning's body; the merest touch made Chu Wanning's eyes fly open, revealing the humiliated flush at their corners.
He shook beneath Mo Ran, but was held in place by firm hands. Mo Ran breathed roughly into his ear. "Stop moving, baby, I'm close…ah…"
He groaned when his climax took him. That thick wetness flooded once more into the depths of Chu Wanning's overstimulated body. Chu Wanning spasmed as if struck by lightning, eyes closing in rapture.
"Wanning, does it feel good? Am I making you feel good?"
At such time, Chu Wanning could scarcely string two words together. Both scolding and rebuke were absent; his rational mind had fled long ago, his fine legs spread wide, his stomach filled with his own disciple's come…
Later, they had done such things often—on the great hall's throne, or the stairs, or against the wall. Taxian-jun's animal ferocity was a tameless, almost destructive force. When consensual, sex like this was all-consuming; despite the retaliatory and humiliating nature of the acts, it was mind-blowingly good.
In the present moment, in the depths of Mount Jiao, Taxian-jun stared into Chu Wanning's gaunt face. As he silently recalled those scenes, a perverse curiosity rose in his mind. Had Chu Wanning ever wondered why Song Qiutong had never conceived despite Mo Ran's prodigious appetites? He'd favored the woman at one point, but never found her quite to his taste. He wanted no children off Song Qiutong. Even in the throes of pleasure, he retained enough clarity to restrain himself: He never came inside her, ensuring she would bear no progeny of his. Perhaps as a result of the circumstances of his own birth, he felt that two people, unless they loved each other enough to spend a lifetime together, shouldn't beget any children.
But it was strange—he hated Chu Wanning so bitterly, yet he often thought that it would be welcome if his Consort Chu fell pregnant from the frequency of his visits. Was this his desire to dominate? To retaliate? To take possession? Did he crave this because it would be a punishment even more humiliating than physical disgrace?
He didn't know. In his ignorance, he dragged Chu Wanning down, again and again, into the abyss of sin and desire.