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1. Shi Mei
Shi Mei is a master of keeping up a flawless public facade.
Throughout his life, nothing has threatened it — not witnessing the atrocities against his kin, not putting up with spoiled young masters, and certainly not even coming face to face with another him.
But this—
"Ah, time flows like the river between mountain peaks," Xue Zhengyong says sagely. Shi Mei pretends to understand what he is saying. Mo Ran gives hums of agreement. "Time stops for no one, and I worry for Yuheng. Do you think he has thought about finding a cultivation partner, since the last time I brought it up?"
—threatens, for the first time in his life, to shatter his facade.
Mine, a voice at the back of his head growls. Mine! How dare Xue Zhengyong even think of letting Chu Wanning, his pure, beautiful, untouchable shizun, wed? As if anyone on this lowly earth is suitable for Shizun, as if anyone can touch him and claim him as—
“… Mine,” a voice decidedly not at the back of his head growls.
From the corner of his eyes, Shi Mei looks at Mo Ran who has been deathly quiet since Xue Zhengyong’s musings. Mo Ran’s jaw is set, his hands balled into fists, his eyes burning with a myriad of emotions: disbelief, anger, sadness, and something else Shi Mei can’t quite put his finger on.
“… A-Ran…?” Shi Mei says cautiously, masking his face with an innocent, concerned expression.
It breaks whatever spell Mo Ran had been under. He snaps to attention, quickly relaxing his hands and awkwardly laughing.
“Are you alright?” Shi Mei asks. I hope you choke and die, he thinks.
Unfortunately, he does not. “Of course!” Mo Ran says, looking anything but alright. “Oh, look at the sky. I think it’s almost time for me to set out for my mission with Shizun.”
“Just the two of you?” Xue Zhengyong asks. “Ran’er, if you need more help, just say the word. I think Shi Mei is free—”
“No, no!” Mo Ran hurriedly says. “How can I disturb Shi Mei when he’s helping Auntie? Just Shizun and I will be more than enough for this mission.”
Just five years ago, he was begging for me to join all his missions, Shi Mei muses. He suddenly thinks of what his other self once told him about the Mo Ran of his world, and his entanglements with their shizun. Unbridled images are conjured from his passing thought, and Shi Mei desperately stamps them away before recomposing himself for the second time that day.
Mo Ran turns to his uncle and gives him a bow, and if Shi Mei didn’t know better, he would have said that Mo Ran glared at Xue Zhengyong. “I promise to do a good job protecting Shizun. … A better job than any cultivation partner would.”
That’s where Mo Ran and Shi Mei differ on a fundamental basis — that mutt wears his feelings on his sleeve, out in the open plain as day for the world to gawk at.
It takes a man as dense as Xue Zhengyong for the barely veiled threat to fly over his head. He only laughs heartily, slapping Mo Ran on the back and wishing him a smooth and swift journey.
“But of course. After all…” Mo Ran’s eyes soften, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he practically glows at the thought of Chu Wanning. “… I have Shizun by my side.”
Shi Mei watches Mo Ran leave, a bitter feeling pooling from his gut as he thinks—
—how that , is yet another way Shi Mei differs from Mo Ran.
2. Innkeeper
Innkeeper Yao is in a good mood.
Well, he is usually a jovial person who runs a successful inn in a booming village such as Wuchang Town, but recently, their booming village has been plagued by demons. Those yaos run around the village stealing shiny things — gold, treasures, even luxurious clothes. No different from a regular, petty thief, really! Their thievery has been bad for tourists and a lack of tourists means a lack of business, which makes Innkeeper Yao a very sad man.
But no fear! Today, he will jovial once more — for earlier in the day two cultivators have arrived from Sisheng Peak. The famous Chu-zongshi and Mo-zongshi exceed the tales spawned of them, efficiently dealing with the petty demons like two black and white angels sent from the heavens above.
Of course, to thank them, Innkeeper Yao had graciously and generously offered them a room each in his inn.
“You can’t say you been to Wuchang Town if you haven’t stayed in my inn,” he had said. “We even have a hot springs.”
The taller xianjun — Mo-zongshi, if he recalls — had turned to the white-robed one. “We love hot springs, don’t we, Shizun?”
If Innkeeper Yao didn’t have second doubts about his vision, he would have sworn that Mo-zongshi had a strange glint in his eyes and that Chu-zongshi all too quickly averted his eyes.
“We accept your kindness,” was all they said.
Now, standing at the front of his inn while the two cultivators are occupying the hot springs, Innkeeper Yao thinks of all the ways he can use this as a promotional tactic. He can sell the inn as a hot new tourist spot — the very inn the two famed zongshis stayed in; come, come soak in the waters they soaked in, come sleep in the bed they slept in! Gold is flashing in his head. He rubs his hands with glee.
A sudden splash comes from within the springs, which had been oddly quiet up till now.
Are they diving in? Innkeeper Yao thinks. Cultivators are different from ordinary people, after all. Perhaps they do not use hot springs the same way regular people do.
Just as he is about to immerse himself once more in his promotional schemes…
“Yao! YAO!! ”
“What!” Innkeeper Yao leaps to his feet. “Who is calling for me!”
An errand boy who works for him rushes by. “Nobody’s calling for you, laoban!” He madly waves in the direction of the hot springs. “One of the yaos snuck in! The demons are in the springs!”
“What!” Innkeeper Yao feels as if he is going to lose his mind. “Didn’t the zongshis exterminate them?!”
“Yes, but I think they missed out one…?”
“ What !!”
Onlookers are starting to gather, attracted by the sounds and inn helpers running around in circles like headless chickens. “… Yaos?”
“In the springs?”
“Yaos in the springs with the zongshis …?!”
Amidst the hollering, the demons begin to shriek.
A brave woman steps forward. She starts rolling her sleeves up. “We should go in! What if they attacked the zongshis?! I… I volunteer as tribute!”
“You just want to see them naked, sit down!”
“ I volunteer as tribute!”
“Step aside, I’m going in…!”
“ FUCK OFF!” the unmistakable voice of Mo-zongshi comes from within the hot springs. There is a flurry of motions, kicks, whipping, and pained groans. A short while later, the sliding door to the springs fling open, and a bunch of unconscious yaos are tossed out unceremoniously.
“What is the…” Innkeeper Yao stops. In front of them stands a very shirtless Mo-zongshi. The women (and even some men) are ogling shamelessly.
“Innkeeper Yao,” Mo-zongshi says with a disarming smile. “Do not worry. Some of the yaos that escaped us earlier tried to steal my Shizun’s clothes. But he is safe now.” A look flashes across his eyes, way too out of place with his smile. “… I made sure those yaos will never even think of my Shizun ever again.”
The crowds’ eyes immediately fly to the figure huddling behind Mo-zongshi. His head is bowed, and he is wearing a black robe that is a few sizes too big for him.
“… Mo-zongshi, and his figure…!” one of the women whispers.
Another nods vigorously. “Oh, look at his ab—“
“… ahem .”
The women freeze, and upon seeing the thunderous look on the Yuheng of the Night Sky’s face, immediately clam up. They demurely lower their heads, looking at anywhere but Mo-zongshi’s naked chest.
Mo-zongshi turns to his shizun and gives him an indulgent smile. Innkeeper Yao is now sure that Chu-zongshi is red in the face.
It must be a harrowing experience, Innkeeper Yao thinks sagely. To have his clothes stolen.
“It has been a harrowing experience,” Mo-zongshi says, stepping in front of Chu-zongshi and shielding him from view. “Shizun must be so traumatised to have his clothes stolen.”
“Yes, yes!” Innkeeper Yao agrees heartily. His thoughts exactly! It seems that the saying, great minds think alike is indeed true. “You should retire for the night!”
“Yes,” Mo-zongshi says. “We definitely should.”
He turns to Chu-zongshi with yet another indescribable look in his eyes — one that linger and haunts Innkeeper Yao for the rest of the night, long after the two retire into their respective room for the night.
The next day, the pair leave long after the sun is up in the sky, and Innkeeper Yao swears that Chu-zongshi’s lips seem bitten red.
3. Villager
Chen Xiaoming from Wuchang Town is on an important mission — head to Sisheng Peak, thank the two xianjuns who exterminated the yaos in village, and give them produce from his parents’ farm.
After the cultivators have gotten rid of the demons, peace came upon Wuchang again. Business went back to normal, and farmers alike had bountiful yields. Seeing as Chen Xiaoming worked as an errand boy in the very inn the pair stayed at, the villagers tasked him to gift them their token of thanks.
… Say, don’t these xianjuns live too high up?! With a sack of produce on his back and a crate of produce in his arms, Chen Xiaoming is practically ready to collapse halfway up the stairs of Sisheng. There’s got to be over 3000 of these steps!
When he finally reaches the summit, he all but bends over, huffing and puffing for air.
“Whew! Haa, haa …”
“—Are you okay? Let me help you with that.”
A pair of muscular, tanned arms take the crate from Chen Xiaoming’s arms, and Chen Xiaoming feeling lighter than below, raises his head, words of thanks for his mystery saviour halfway out of his mouth.
At the sight of the familiar Mo-zongshi, Chen Xiaoming immediately yelps. “M-M-Mo-zongshi…! Ah, please, let me—!”
There, in front of him with another blue-robed disciple in tow, stands Mo-zongshi, looking as handsome and majestic as the day he had come by to eradicate evil from Wuchang. And Chen Xiaoming made him carry his crate of potatoes! Letting the person he is supposed to thank help him once again! Shame on him!! Shame on his ancestors and his cow!
Mo-zongshi smiles easily, flashing his dimples as he sets the crate on the ground between himself and disciple. “No problem at all, it didn’t weigh a thing.”
“Ha ha…” Chen Xiaoming’s arms throb with phantom pain. Quickly, he bows to both Mo-zongshi and the other Sisheng disciple, greeting them and explaining the purpose of his visit.
“… We will be eternally grateful if Mo-zongshi and Chu-zongshi will accept the humble token of our gratitude!” Chen Xiaoming finishes.
“You are too polite. We were just doing our duty,” Mo-zongshi says warmly as the disciple helps Chen Xiaoming with his second sack of produce. “Oh, but my shizun isn’t here right now, he is having a—… …Shizun?”
At once, Mo-zongshi’s entire demeanour changes. His voice drops an octave lower, and he stands straight, fixing his robes as his eyes stare at an approaching figure with laser-sharp focus. Chen Xiaoming turns in the direction of his eyes, and sees Chu-zongshi walking towards them, his white-robes billowing gently in the wind.
Chen Xiaoming swears he hears Mo-zongshi take in a sharp intake of air.
Beside Mo-zongshi, the other disciple breathes in sharply as well. “Y-Y-Y-YUHENG ELDER…!” He drops the sack of the produce next to the crate, hastily cupping his hands and raising them at Mo-zongshi. “Mo-shixiong, look at the time, I forgot I have to help Xuanji Elder with his tasks, sorry but I got to go now, byebyebye bye —”
He disappears in a flash, but it is as if he is thin air to Mo-zongshi.
Mo-zongshi’s eyes are shining as Chu-zongshi draws closer to them, mirroring the expression Innkeeper Yao has when he gets a boom in business.
“… Shizun,” Mo-zongshi breathes when Chu-zongshi comes to a stop beside him.
He takes a step closer to Chu-zongshi, and Chu-zongshi’s eyes soften. “Mn.”
“Meeting over?” Mo-zongshi asks in a quiet voice that is all too intimate to be asking about sect duties. Chu Wanning lowers his eyes, and Mo-zongshi makes a move as if to reach forward.
And then Chu-zongshi’s eyes flicker over to Chen Xiaoming, and Chu-zongshi immediately stills, his spine turning rigid as he looks at Chen Xiaoming.
“A guest?”
… Chen Xiaoming suddenly wishes that he is invisible. He gets a distinct feeling that he is not needed here. His neck has a chilling sensation, but he doesn’t dare turn — he doesn’t want to be haunted by the sight of Mo-zongshi glaring daggers at him for the rest of his life.
He is young! He has a whole life ahead of him!!
Still, Chen Xiaoming is nothing but adaptable, trained by years of working in the inn. He introduces himself to Chu-zongshi, thanking them once more and telling him the purpose of his visit.
Mo-zongshi smiles placidly, and says, “Shizun, Chen-gongzi kindly brought a lot of gifts. Please allow me to help you carry them back to the Red Lotus Pavilion.”
Chen Xiaoming sees a flash of a knowing look on Mo-zongshi’s face, before Mo-zongshi easily reaches for Chu-zongshi’s crate and carries them on his behalf.
“…” Chu-zongshi looks away with a cough, his sleeve shielding half his face from view. “… Yes. Let’s make haste.”
Just like that, they incline towards Chen Xiaoming, bidding him farewell before heading down the path with the gifts he brought.
And as Chen Xiaoming is making his way down the long flight of stairs again, something possesses him to turn back. He turns back just in time to see Mo-zongshi smiling Chu-zongshi, his head lowered and too close to be considered proper in his shizun’s direction.
(Something, maybe preservation instinct of sorts, stops Chen Xiaoming from looking more — because if he did, he would have seen Mo-zongshi unoccupied hand on Chu-zongshi’s waist, straying just a bit further down his belt.
Chen Xiaoming is young, with a long, long life ahead of him.)
4. Disciple
Xie Yu of Sisheng Peak has always blended into the background.
Maybe in another life, distant future light years away from now, he would have been destined for bigger, greater things with a shocking love and shocking tragedy. But for now, he is an ordinary disciple in an ordinary peak, doing his duties and training without doing anything that makes him stick out.
Take for instance, just this afternoon! He successfully avoided crossing paths with Yuheng Elder, the fearsome Chu Wanning. Everyone knew Chu Wanning has a force to be reckoned with, and Xie Yu didn’t need any of that!
Oh, shit. Xie Yu had been so busy patting himself on the back that he didn’t realise he had wandered near enemy territory — Red Lotus Pavilion, the territory of the Yuheng of the Night Sky.
Got to go, got to go—
“… window….” A breathy whisper drifts out from one of the rooms. It is a sound that definitely has no place in the very scary, very solemn Red Lotus Pavilion, and based on Xie Yu’s limited understanding of the layout, it appears to be one of Chu Wanning’s many libraries.
That sound didn’t come from a ghost. There is an unmistakable desire undercurrent to the tone, and also ambiguous sounds of creaking furniture and faint thumping.
Xie Yu’s only thought is: who in the three worlds is fucking brave enough to be fucking in Chu Wanning’s territory?!
Then he hears another voice: “What is it?”
Xie Yu has to shove his fist inside his mouth to stop gasping out loud. He recognises that voice anywhere ! Why, just a while ago he heard it right beside him.
It is none other than Mo Ran, the second young master of Sisheng Peak, Chu Wanning’s very own disciple!!
Mo-shixiong! Xie Yu thinks in a mix of anguish and admiration. Why do you always flirt with death?
The memory of Chu Wanning publicly punishing Mo Ran for engaging in debauchery five years ago is seared at the back of his mind. Xie Yu has not forgotten about it — nor has he forgotten the phantom pain from Chu Wanning whipping all the disciples who spoke up for Mo Ran.
“… Did you… “
Just as Xie Yu is wondering who managed to ensnare the now-righteous, upstanding Mo-zongshi, the person gasps out again.
“…close… the windows…” They speak in hushed tones, understandably afraid to get caught.
There is a pause.
Then Mo Ran chuckles lowly, a dark sound that makes the hair at the back of Xie Yu’s neck raise and the pit of his stomach coil in a jarring alternation of fear and arousal.
I’m straight, Xie Yu thinks desperately.
The person gives a sudden cry. “ Ah—! Mo…!”
“… Leave them open.” Xie Yu can’t see Mo Ran, but he can vividly imagine the smirk on Mo Ran’s face. “Now, everyone can see that you belong to me.”
The noises from within resume with a frantic fervour, but by then, Xie Yu has long ran back to safety away from the Red Lotus Pavilion.
5. Mengmeng
Sect Leader Xue Meng has a headache.
Well, as the young sect leader of a peak, headaches are frequent. Headaches from rebuilding the peak, from sect duties, from having erotic tales of his shizun and cousin blasted across the realm…
But all those are nothing compared to his current headache.
“Shizun! Mo Ran!” Xue Meng yells. “Oi, dog —!”
He yells freely in the empty bamboo clearing, without fear of Xuanji or Tanlang nagging him to show decorum. Still, despite his yelling, neither his shizun or cousin appear.
Earlier in the day, Mo Ran and Chu Wanning had dropped by for a visit — something about gifting Xue Meng mooncakes for the Mid-Autumn Festival. Even though it had been Mo Ran’s other personality present (one that Xue Meng has tried to avoid after that harrowing blind date experience), Xue Meng graciously asked them to stay for dinner.
That had been a few hours ago.
Now, Xue Meng has long finished his meeting and the sun is beginning to set, but the two are nowhere to be seen. His disciple mentioned that he had last seen them near the training grounds, so there Xue Meng is, trying his luck at the clearing that is decidedly empty.
“Where is that dog?!”
Xue Meng throws his hands up in exasperation. Just as he is about to throw in the towel and call it a day — knowing the capricious side of his cousin, it wouldn’t be surprising if he decided just to go back home — he feels a vague sound from one of the bushes.
… Cai Bao?
But it can’t be. The lump nestled within the bushes is way too big to be that cat, no matter how fat the cat may grow to be. Xue Meng cautiously draws closer, and soon, he feels faint, vague rustling noises emerging from the bushes. It sounds like leaves and… fabric?
A grunt pierces the stillness of the clearing, and Xue Meng jumps at the sound. His brain is going on overdrive. What is it? An injured rogue cultivator? Robbers?? Assassins???
Warily, with one hand on the hilt of his sword, Xue Meng’s other hand reaches for bushes, slowly parting the leaves…
It is a peaceful day at Sisheng Peak. The sun is setting, the birds are returning to their nests, and all is tranquil.
Suddenly, a noise pierces the tranquillity.
“—OH MY GOOOOD, ARE YOU A FUCKING DOG !?!?!?!?”
+1 Mo Ran
It is a beautiful day.
The sun is shining, the birds are singing, and Mo Ran is at Sisheng Peak surrounded by all the people he cared about. And most importantly of them all, there beside him swathed in beautiful red robes and looking like the most ethereal being on earth, an immortal amongst men, is Chu Wanning: his Shizun, his god, the love of his life—
—And soon-to-be, his spouse.
That thought alone is enough to make Mo Ran break into a foolish smile.
“What are you thinking about?” Chu Wanning asks quietly.
“You,” Mo Ran says easily. He grins at Chu Wanning, suddenly wishing that Chu Wanning didn’t have the veil covering his face. His Wanning must be a pretty red, and Mo Ran’s fingers itch to rip it off.
Later, he reminds himself sternly, whipping the wolf ever present at the back of his mind. Everything must go perfectly today.
Chu Wanning shakes his head, fond exasperation all over his face. “This isn’t the first time we are getting married. Hasn’t the novelty worn off by now?”
“No,” Mo Ran protests. By now, when he thinks about his past life and teenage days, the guilt that accompanied his memories no longer stabs him as deeply. With Chu Wanning’s constant assurances and love, as well as the passing of time, these memories only bring about a bittersweet kind of nostalgia, and the gratitude that comes from growing from their past experiences.
“This time, we are doing it for real ,” Mo Ran says. “With the blessings of everyone, so that heaven and earth can see that Chu Wanning is Mo Ran’s person, and Mo Ran is Chu Wanning’s.”
“… but I’ve always been yours.”
Two lifetimes with Chu Wanning, and yet Chu Wanning still somehow manages to catch Mo Ran off guard.
“——First bow to heaven and earth!”
“Shizun,” Mo Ran whispers as they bow. “How about we just skip the wedding and go straight to the consummation room?”
He hears what sounds like a scoff. “Don’t waste Xue Meng’s efforts,” Chu Wanning says simply.
“True,” Mo Ran agrees. “It’s very nice of him to plan the wedding for us, given what happened during Mid-Autumn.”
He sends what he hopes is a smouldering sideway gaze at Chu Wanning, wishing for the umpteenth time to see how red his lofty, godly Shizun can turn when he is flustered. Unbridled, the hazy memories of his other self drift forward consciousness — images of him pinning Chu Wanning beneath the bushes of Sisheng’s training grounds as he took Chu Wanning apart against the thighs flash by, and he quickly disperses them before he gets a very inappropriate raging boner in the middle of their wedding ceremony.
(Well. It wouldn’t be inappropriate for him , but he had to think of his Wanning’s cute, thin face. Everyone knows the first step to a happy marriage is to pander to your darling wife’s every need.)
They bow for the second time to the front, where a sobbing Xue Meng sits, along with the ancestral tablets of the Xues.
Thank you, Uncle and Auntie, Mo Ran thinks as he presses his forehead to the ground. And sorry. I promise to take care of Shizun and myself.
“Maybe we should just elope,” Mo Ran whispers as they straighten their backs. “Who knows how long the ceremony is going to be, and if we elope, we don’t need to answer to anyone.”
“You are sounding like the you of our other life,” Chu Wanning says mildly. They come face to face for the last bow.
“I hope you’re ready for another me when midnight strikes.” Mo Ran smiles, flashing his dimples as he asks, “Wanning loves me either way, right?”
“… Do you even need to ask?” Through the gauze of the veil, Mo Ran sees a small smile on Chu Wanning’s lips.
“——Third bow as husband and wife!”
They rise from their final bow, and when Mo Ran lifts the veil on Chu Wanning, Chu Wanning is gazing at him with soft eyes filled with gentle adoration. Mo Ran’s breath hitches, and he is overwhelmed by the urge to kiss Chu Wanning.
So he does, kissing the love of his life in front of everyone, against the backdrop of cheers and blessings from Sisheng Peak and beyond.
… And for the rest of their lives, for a long, long time—
—They live happily ever after, with no more secrets attached.