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Chu Wanning watched Mo Ran disappear into the distance, dark blue robes fluttering behind him wildly as he walked with hurried steps. Chu Wanning didn’t understand. It wasn’t as if he was going anywhere. His body would still be in that place, surrounded by wood on four sides, asleep.
He quickly extinguished the small candle of yearning deep inside his chest. Only a small wisp of longing managed to escape as he watched Mo Ran disappear into the field of white. And the world turned cold and quiet once more.
Sisheng Peak suffered too many losses. Even now, he could easily recall the piles upon piles of bodies, the ground dyed red under his feet, the echo of pain in his chest from when his core gave out. The last traces of gold flowing into Mo Ran’s unconscious body.
It was a relief to see him again. Walking briskly. Alive. Though Chu Wanning had yet to catch a glimpse of his face. He never walked close enough for him to see. He was simply too far away. Always so far away.
Chu Wanning withheld a sigh and dipped his head down wistfully. The haitang tree’s branches shivered. It was getting colder.
Ah, he was running again. For what, Chu Wanning still hasn't figured out. Only that he wished for him to slow down. The ground is slippery. It just rained. Don’t be such a fool. He could only scold him quietly in his heart. Mo Ran never quite listened to him anyway.
Mo Ran was once again running everywhere. Stopping in one place only to flee from it in favor of another until he reached the bottom of the Heaven-Piercing Tower where Chu Wanning stood, staring at the exhausted figure with his hands on his knees.
Chu Wanning felt as if he had been seen through. He wanted to call out to the person below. But before he could say anything, Mo Ran had already begun to walk up the stairs. Slowly making his way closer to him. Step by step.
He saw the top of his head. Those overgrown bangs in need of a trim. The pair of dark eyes stricken with something Chu Wanning couldn’t name. Truthfully, Mo Ran’s expression scared him a little. It looked too weary, too panicked, too...sorrowful to be on his face. This disciple of his was unruly, reckless, obnoxious, and many other things, and Chu Wanning, who had gotten used to his sneers and smiles, his glares and snorts, didn’t know how to deal with this serious Mo Ran in front of him, brooding over some deep troubles he wasn’t supposed to have.
He didn’t save him for this. Mo Ran shouldn’t be like this. He hated him. He should be relieved. He should be happy. Shi Mingjing was fine. Everyone he cares about is still alive and well, so why...
Why are you crying?
Chu Wanning was helpless, unable to move as every gasp or choked out cry stabbed deeper into his chest. It was hard to miss the pained murmurs, the wet pleas whispered to the trunk of the tree. Frozen with unexplainable emotions, he cursed his uselessness.
Mo Ran was...he was calling for him. His disciple was right there. He was right there, and yet…why did he still feel so far away? Why couldn’t he reach him...?
Mo Ran, I’m here. Don’t cry… Please don’t cry... Shizun is already…
Chu Wanning’s heart shattered when Mo Ran sobbed even louder, wailing like a child in front of the large haitang tree. He cried openly, uncaring for his dignity, his pride, like a broken dam quickly flooding with an overwhelming amount of sorrow and regret.
Chu Wanning really didn’t think his life was worth this many tears, if any and much less from Mo Ran himself. He truly did not know what to do, so he suffered alongside him. Silently, those cries carved deeper and deeper crevices until there was nothing left but the shell of what he was when Mo Ran finally stopped, crying himself to exhaustion under the shade of the tree.
He could no longer hold him. Touch him. Bring him comfort even if he tried.
Sorry, he wanted to say.
Shizun didn’t mean to ignore you. It wasn’t only that.
Sorry for being too harsh. You don’t have to cry for me. I’m the one who failed to protect you. This is the way it should be, so…
Don’t make me want to regret my decision.
It’s enough that Mo Ran didn’t hate him as much as he thought he did. As long as he forgives him...follow the right path...as long as his disciples are there for each other, they’ll be fine.
They are all exceptional. He couldn’t have asked for better pupils.
For someone like him, he led a fulfilling life.
It was a blessing to return to his roots somewhere so near. He could watch them grow up...keep them company.
It would be good if they could quickly forget about him. He was only one casualty out of many more who had lost their lives.
And yet, when he saw Mo Ran shakily make his way down the stairs again, he couldn’t help but worry. Like many other times, he wanted to scold him.
Pay attention to where you’re walking, he would say.
Because shizun can’t be there to catch you anymore.