Chapter Text
Everyone has days that hold special meaning to them alone, be it for good or bad. A day of celebration or a day of mourning. But always, at the root of it all, a day of remembrance and commemoration. Even Chu Wanning is no exception in this regard.
There is one day that only he now remembers, one that he allows himself to celebrate. Perhaps it is a foolish endeavor keeping it up every year with only him acknowledging it. Sentimental as it is, but he believes that so long as there is at least one person who cares to remember, then it is an occasion still worth something.
Chu Wanning exits the room in his shizun’s residence where he has been staying in the past few months since exiting his seclusion. His shizun has made no comments of him vacating the space as of yet. There had been one time Chu Wanning had brought it up, but the topic had led nowhere.
As he steps out, Chu Wanning finds his shizun hurriedly putting on shoes, then pauses to look up. Mo Ran’s wide-eyed, harried expression untenses and softens, flashing a bright, dimpled smile as he greets Chu Wanning.
“Good morning!” His shizun gives him a little wave, “I’ll be heading out first—busy day today. But I promise I’ll be right back to pestering you tomorrow.”
“Good morning,” Chu Wanning murmurs, feeling silly over feeling embarrassed about saying the greeting back, despite this being a daily occurrence now, “And you’re not.”
“I’m not…?” His shizun’s expression is the same, though the confusion is obvious.
“Pestering me,” Chu Wanning clarifies, only now belatedly feeling the awkwardness. Right, his shizun was likely just joking around before.
Mo Ran’s eyebrows rise almost to his hairline, before his form sort of slumps as he visibly exhales through his nose, though he does it with a grin, “Let’s see if you still think that when I try to get you to eat more beef.”
“See you, don’t forget to eat breakfast!” Mo Ran says over his back as he opens the door and exits.
It’s only when the door has long since already closed that Chu Wanning sighs quietly. Well, there goes the courage he’s been building up all week. It’s fine—there’s still tomorrow, he supposes.
—
Mo Ran being the topic of gossip amongst the disciples of Sisheng Peak is nothing new, even five years ago. Still, Chu Wanning can’t help the way his body tenses reflexively when his shizun’s title and name find their way in his ears. He tries to feign indifference as he listens in, though it was a futile act since he was training alone anyway.
“—very romantic, isn’t it?”
Followed by a couple of giggles and high-pitched noises of what seemed to be agreement.
“—wonder who it is—”
“Someone from—sect? Or—”
“Heard a beauty from—sent Elder Mo an invitation—”
The giggling in between really didn’t help Chu Wanning in making out all the words properly. Whatever, listening stealthily has never been his preferred method.
Chu Wanning approaches the group of giggling disciples, crossing his arms as he comes to a stop, and asks bluntly, “Are you gossiping about my shizun?”
His words silence more than just the girls. In fact, it seems like the entire area in their vicinity becomes muffled by a damp, heavy blanket.
“Ah—Chu-gongzi…” A girl squeaks out, startled, before getting elbowed by someone next to her, “I meant—Chu-zongshi…”
“It’s only…that is, we heard from our shijie that she heard some other disciples near Mengpo Hall talking about how the cooks were gossiping about—”
The sentence made Chu Wanning’s head throb in attempting to parse it.
“—How Elder Mo was in the kitchens in Mengpo Hall,”
“And how, when they asked what the occasion was, he said,”
“It was preparations for a surprise for someone very dear to him.”
All of them all but had a certain glint in their eyes as soon as the sentence was finished, Chu Wanning notes as he leans away a bit. They were all very excited over something that had nothing to do with them. Is there so little excitement to be found in this sect during this time of peace?
A surprise for someone very dear to him? Chu Wanning thinks that it has been a while since Shi Mei had gone back to Guyue’ye. He must have sent word that he’ll be returning today, or soon. The first time Shi Mei returned to Sisheng Peak, the banquet held for Chu Wanning exiting seclusion must have overshadowed that occasion.
Now that things are more or less back to normal, things have returned to their usual status quo. Unbiddenly, Chu Wanning feels his chest twist, the sharp pain spreading down to his gut. Guiltily, he swallows back the bitter-sour taste in his mouth, and shackles his emotions in place.
“Do you know who it could be, Chu-gongzi?”
Chu Wanning blinks and looks up at the person that addressed him, and answers simply with, “Yes.”
A wave of excited, shrill cacophony of voices assault his ears. Chu Wanning turns and walks away rapidly away from the group, ignoring their ensuing protests. While it’s nice that the most excitement Sisheng’s disciples will now know is likely gossip like these instead of a Heavenly Rift, he would like to appreciate that from afar—from very far away—than directly involved in it.
—
It’s perfect timing that the Sect Leader sends for him, really. A little too on the nose, if Chu Wanning can say so, as he quietly watches Xue Meng sort of flap around trying to explain the objective to him.
“—so yeah, just gather like, fifty of each herb,” Xue Meng repeats, “But be back before nightfall. It’s okay if you don’t get all of them. But don’t come back too early—”
Chu Wanning stares at the Sect Leader in bemusement, who sort of falters as he speaks and sighs.
“If you somehow manage to get all of them early, uuuh,” Xue Meng raises his shoulders, “Get another fifty of each?”
“Understood,” Chu Wanning says, and cuts straight to the point, “I’ll return at sunset.”
“Yes, yes,” Xue Meng nods eagerly, “You are a smart one aren’t you? I knew you’d get it.”
“But also if for some reason you encounter any danger at all,” Xue Meng suddenly sits up, as if remembering something, “Return immediately. Do not engage.”
“What?” Chu Wanning raises an eyebrow, “Why not? That’s my job—”
“Look, I don’t know,” Xue Meng sighs as he scratches his head with both hands, “Just. You’re good at following instructions, so just do as I say.”
“I refuse to follow instructions without knowing the reason for it,” Chu Wanning crosses his arms defiantly.
“I almost forgot how stubborn you are,” Xue Meng leans back with a groan, “Fine, just don’t get hurt!”
“I am a cultivator, it’s practically expected—”
“I mean it,” Xue Meng warns, sounding exasperated, “Or else your shizun will never let you go out.”
While his shizun has indeed been hovering during the first couple of months, he kept whatever annoyance he felt to himself. It’s only natural to worry about someone who just returned from the dead, he thinks, no matter who it is. Besides, Mo Ran’s worried, fussing care over him was something novel yet precious, something to be treasured while it lasted.
“Anyway, I told him you’re too perceptive and would see through it,” Xue Meng huffs and shakes his head.
“Tanlang’s disciples did just restock their supply,” Chu Wanning answers an unasked question, leaving out the Sect Leader’s terrible attempts at obfuscation. Though perhaps the fresh herbs are an additional, more practical welcome back gift for his shixiong.
“How do you know that?” Xue Meng looks at him with suspicion, “Don’t you not get along with Tanlang?”
“I hate owing that man anything,” Chu Wanning crosses his arms as he speaks, “I used to repay him by escorting his junior disciples gathering supplies outside Sisheng Peak.”
“I didn’t know that—why didn’t I know that?” Xue Meng says with no small amount of bafflement, “Did your shizun know that?”
“No,” Chu Wanning answers simply.
It takes a few beats before anyone says anything again. “It’s only the second time I’ve seen your shizun this excited and anxious,” Xue Meng comments off-handledly, looking at him with a searching gaze, “It’s really important to him, getting this right.”
The first time must have been his shixiong’s coming of age ceremony. Something that Chu Wanning hadn’t been around yet to witness. He takes the hint, and ensures to do his part in at least keeping away for a little while.
The Sect Leader stares at him for a moment, before he puts both hands over each of Chu Wanning’s shoulders and says, “Take care. I mean it. If something happens, send me a message immediately.”
“It’s just herb gathering,” Chu Wanning answers wryly, but he does feel strangely warm at hearing the Sect Leader’s words, even if it’s born out of a second-hand worry from how his shizun has been hovering the last few months.
—
Getting the herbs was easy enough. Too easy, actually. It’s something he’s well-acquainted with, after getting bored just watching Tanlang’s disciples putter around while he sat idly, he had decided to familiarize himself as well and help out.
Though the extent of his knowledge stopped at the common, mostly harmless ones. He knew of the rarer ones and their names and depictions, but not necessarily what they looked like in real life. It was barely afternoon, and he was all but told not to come back until sunset, and he was bored.
Logically, he supposes rarer herbs would be in remote, mostly inaccessible places. Probably. Chu Wanning brings out a Rising Dragon Talisman, and contemplates how desperate he is for a moment. Enough to endure that damned thing’s loud mouth? Maybe.
The avalanche of words running out of the Paper Dragon’s mouth already gives Chu Wanning a throbbing headache, and so he drowns most of it out and lets it run off until it gets tired.
“—still single, aren’t you?”
Chu Wanning raises an eyebrow at it, but since it finally paused, he takes the opportunity to say, “Bring me somewhere with rare herbs.”
“What the hell?” the Paper Dragon shrieks in outrage, “Here I was, pouring my mighty heart out in concern and you don’t even say anything except—”
“Concern? You were just insulting me,” Chu Wanning rolls his eyes, “Tell me, how am I supposed to get married when I was dead until recently?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying!” the Paper Dragon stomps around, “You were dead! And now you summon me after all this time and the first thing you say to me is something completely unrelated.”
Belatedly, Chu Wanning notices that the Paper Dragon’s usual verbal tic is nowhere to be heard. Whatever happened to ‘this venerable one?’
“Well, I’m back now,” Chu Wanning says, feeling more than a bit clueless, “What do you want from me?”
The Paper Dragon opens and closes its mouth a few times, before sighing deeply and shrugging, “It’s just like you, isn’t it, Chu Wanning? Whatever. Who cares about you anyway.”
“Hn,” Chu Wanning grunts, feeling a bit guilty, and pokes the Paper Dragon from where it was turned away, “Sorry. Were you actually worried?”
“I thought you were hurt badly again, like before—” the Paper Dragon twists around, flying towards him, “But it was worse this time. You were…gone.”
“How did you find out?” Chu Wanning asks, more than a little curious. He’s always thought the Paper Dragon’s comments about its life were random delusional ramblings—but it does seem like it exists outside of being summoned?
“This venerable one has his ways,” the Paper Dragon declares and puffs its chest out haughtily, probably thinking it looks mysterious and regal doing it when it just looks silly. Well, it must be feeling better if it’s talking like that again.
“Well, you’re still stuck with me,” Chu Wanning says in a dry tone, “Now will you take me somewhere with rare herbs?”
“Unfortunately,” the Paper Dragon sighs out lamentingly, but it does transform even as it does so. It lowers its head directly to make eye contact with Chu Wanning as it says, “Just this once, this venerable one will humor your request.”
“Thanks,” Chu Wanning says wryly, but he does feel a bit of fondness in a way, realizing this old thing apparently spared a thought about him even after he died.
—
He really should have expected being brought somewhere up high. Whatever, it’s fine—if he falls…no, he won’t fall. The ledges are pretty steep, and the little yapping thing on his shoulder isn’t helping his concentration. Though he can admit the Paper Dragon’s rambling is successfully distracting him from the fear out of sheer annoyance.
“Why are you even still here,” Chu Wanning hisses at the thing on his shoulders as he reaches out to gently grab the small, flowering plant just the slightest bit out of reach, “Shouldn’t you have de-summoned already?”
“Is this how you show gratitude, Chu Wanning? Dying didn’t change you at all, did it,” the Paper Dragon huffs, “It’s no wonder you’re still single. This venerable stayed here graciously to accompany you!”
“I don’t need it,” Chu Wanning says flatly, though he is unconvinced of the truth of it.
“Really? Say that again when you need a ride back home,” Chu Wanning can almost imagine the way it rolls its eyes pettily.
Eventually after successfully retrieving the herb, Chu Wanning finds a place to sit while stashing it away carefully—far, far away from the cliff.
“What is this anyway?” Chu Wanning asks the Paper Dragon, not really expecting a useful answer.
“It’s a medicinal herb that only blooms into a flower under the light of seventy-seven full moons.”
“Right,” Chu Wanning says unconvinced, and is starting to wonder whether it was just a random weed he risked his life getting.
Well, whatever, on the off-chance the Paper Dragon is actually telling the truth, perhaps his shizun will be pleased to know Chu Wanning managed to get some useful, precious stuff.
‘Your shixiong will like these, I’m sure of it,’ Chu Wanning tries to imagine his shizun’s pleased, grateful expression, ‘I’m proud of you, A-Ning. Thank you.’
It’s a nice thought. He feels his chest squeeze, almost painfully, far hotter and sharper than the warm, fuzzy feeling it should be giving.
—
“Don’t inhale it,” Chu Wanning hears the Paper Dragon shriek beside him right before he sneezes. Great. Too late of a warning.
“Is it toxic?” Chu Wanning asks as he scrambles away from the assault of pollen, pinching his nose.
The Paper Dragon brought him to a secluded forest, which he had mistakenly thought would be infinitely safer than the mountain prior.
“Well…” the Paper Dragon says dubiously, “No. But it’s—”
“What? Chu Wanning asks impatiently, glaring at the Paper Dragon on his shoulder, who initially shrinks before shrugging.
“It’s nothing too bad,” it says unhelpfully, “Maybe it will even help you out?”
“What the hell does that mean?” Chu Wanning groans in frustration, collapsing backwards on the moist, soft grass with his arms spread out.
He doesn’t know how long he spends just laying down, sneezing helplessly, hoping for the pollen to get flushed out of his system.
“Didn’t you say you need to get home before evening?”
Chu Wanning opens his itchy, watery eyes, before sitting up as he realizes that it’s already getting dark. What if he misses the window of time where his shizun had been planning to give these? The Sect Leader had been very specific in his instructions, after all. Not to mention…
‘It’s really important to him, getting this right.’
If it turns out that something going wrong was his fault…he doesn’t know if he can stomach his shizun’s disappointment or anger this time around. Unbiddenly, he remembers before, back when his shizun still hated him—
‘Can’t a supposed genius like you follow simple instructions?’
“Take me back to Sisheng Peak,” Chu Wanning turns to the Paper Dragon, his gut coiling and bubbling with anxiety, “Go as fast as you can. Please. ”
“Okay, okay…” the Paper Dragon transforms and complies easily this time as well, “Now stop looking at me like that. When have I ever refused you?”
—
Chu Wanning had kicked up a fuss, urging the Paper Dragon to bring him immediately back to Sisheng, and yet here he is now outside his shizun’s residence. Standing a little idiotically, he glares at the unexpected barrier erected over the area that might as well be a warning sign telling everyone to stay out. He really is too late then. Of course, this barrier can hardly keep him out, but it’s the existence of it in the first place that matters. It must be his shizun’s way of asking for privacy.
With a defeated sigh, Chu Wanning stashes the qiankun pouch with the herbs back into his sleeves, and turns away to head back out. Chu Wanning doesn’t have any change of clothes, but he can probably borrow or buy something in Wuchang quickly. Wearing the same clothes overnight usually wouldn’t be a problem, but he felt a little filthy after all but rolling around in damp grass earlier.
Also, might as well check with Tanlang later he actually picked up some rare, useful herbs and not just some random weed that grew on a mountain. Not to mention the pollen he inhaled that stupid Paper Dragon had been evasive about.
—
“I’m sorry, gongzi,” the bakery owner clasps his hands together as he bows, “We’re all fresh out of pastries, I’m afraid. We only have bread left.”
“Oh,” Chu Wanning stares despondently at the selection of bread, nothing really piquing his interest, but picking a random one anyway since it’s a shame to waste the man’s time and not buy anything, “It’s fine. I’ll take that one.”
“Thank you, gongzi, come again,” the bakery owner smiles at him as he bows.
“Hn,” Chu Wanning actually will be going back soon, speaking of, “Will you have more pastries tomorrow?”
“Yes, yes,” the bakery owner nods eagerly, “We’ll have them ready bright and early, gongzi.”
“Thank you,” Chu Wanning says, for lack of a better response, hovering a little awkwardly for a moment before heading back to Sisheng Peak.
He ended up unexpectedly buying new robes, but he supposes it’s better than remaining in these dirty robes for longer. Since the bakery had been in the area, he decided to take a look, but to no avail. Chu Wanning mournfully chews on the slightly stale bread. It would at least be more tolerable if it was still hot and fresh out of the oven.
It reminds him a bit pathetically, of before, during the first year.
Of two bowls of wonton soup, one with chili oil, both left untouched. The chair opposite to him remained empty and unoccupied from sunset until evening. He had gone down Sisheng Peak for the first time on his own that night, not for business or a mission, but to find a bit of a treat for himself.
Then Chu Wanning had, by some miracle of fate, seen his shizun on his way down, hope causing his heart to skip despite himself, as he had watched his shizun carefully holding the familiar shape of lotus leaves wrapped around osmanthus cakes. His sweet tooth had been no secret to anyone, especially his shizun. And so, more than shamefully, pathetically he had thought…could it be? Maybe he didn’t forget after all?
“Shizun—” Chu Wanning had addressed his shizun from above, causing his shizun who had been running up the steps to pause and look up.
“Oh, hey,” Mo Ran had greeted distractedly as he blinked up, “Sorry I couldn’t make it in time for training—I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Training? Chu Wanning had thought dumbly as his shizun ran past him. Oh. Of course. He couldn’t really blame his shizun for mistaking it for that. Why else would someone like Chu Wanning ask for a bit of his shizun’s time, after all, if it wasn’t for training? It’s only that…he had hoped that his shizun would remember why, like he had promised a year ago.
At the very least, there had been one remaining osmanthus cake left in the bakery when he arrived. It was cold and a little stale and felt like sand in his dry mouth as he chewed, but at least it was sweet, and so he ate every bite of it.
Chu Wanning blinks a couple of times as he’s pulled out of the memory, feeling something wet and cold on his cheeks despite the humid summer heat. Discreetly, he rubs his cheeks with the end of his palm, feeling his cheeks flame as he looks around. Thankfully, it was just him around right now, the other disciples climbing up a bit far away from him to even notice.
Maybe if his shizun wasn’t disappointed or angry with him, he can try asking tomorrow. Just for a little bit.
—
Just a couple of minutes, is what Chu Wanning told himself, when he had leaned against the tree and closed his eyes. He’ll just rest his eyes for a bit. The itchy, annoying feeling from the pollen wasn’t completely gone. And he felt a weird chill course through his back despite sweating from the heat.
Chu Wanning blearily opens his eyes, and feels a clammy hand tapping his cheek. He blinks a few times, and sees his shizun’s furrowed face leaning over him, who slumps down when they make eye contact.
“Oh, thank god,” Mo Ran exhales, holding the side of Chu Wanning’s face, extending all the way to his neck. It’s odd—his shizun has always had warm hands, but right now they were all cold and clammy, “Are you okay? Please tell me you’re okay.”
“Hn,” is all Chu Wanning manages, feeling his throat lock up unexpectedly. He goes to sit up, waving off Mo Ran’s hands hovering, as if expecting him to fall down.
“I’ve been looking for you since sunset,” Mo Ran unsticks the hair clinging to the back of Chu Wanning’s neck. Huh, he hadn’t even noticed that his hair is damp now for some reason, “Xue Meng said you’d be back by then—I couldn’t find you anywhere until now.”
“Oh…I—” Chu Wanning’s suddenly hit full force with guilt and contrition—it couldn’t be that his shizun had been searching for him this whole time, right? He pulls out the qiankun pouch from within his sleeves, remembering why he had been out, “I’m sorry for being late, shizun. Here.”
“That’s…I’m not looking for an apology,” Mo Ran sighs, but takes the pouch and asks, “What’s this?”
“The herbs I gathered,” Chu Wanning says. It’s not like it needs more explanation, “I also got some rare ones. I think. Unless that stupid paper dragon lied to me.”
“Ah?” Mo Ran blinks a few times, “Anyway—don’t think you’ve distracted shizun, A-Ning. What were you thinking? It’s raining and you’re out here, sleeping out in the open. What if you get sick?”
“But…it was an accident,” Chu Wanning doesn’t quite say petulantly. What else was he supposed to do anyway? “I only planned to close my eyes for a bit.”
“Really?” Mo Ran looks him over with a sigh, “Well, come on, let’s go home. I’ll draw up a hot bath, I know you must feel uncomfortable—your robes are kinda damp and muddy.”
Chu Wanning almost, almost agrees eagerly, desperate for a hot bath somewhere safe and private. But then he remembers what today is and where his shizun is supposed to be.
“No need,” Chu Wanning shakes his head, pulling away from Mo Ran, “I’ll be…going to the healer’s. I feel a bit unwell.”
“Unwell…? So you are sick?” Mo Ran grips both his arms, “Did you get hurt anywhere? What happened?! Fuck, I told Xue Meng to keep you within sect grounds—”
Bewilderedly, Chu Wanning looks at Mo Ran owlishly, stunned by the sudden reaction.
“There was a pollen,” Chu Wanning doesn’t know why he’s saying all this—his shizun doesn’t need to know these, at least not right now, what the hell, “It made my nose and eyes itchy. Now I feel weird.”
Mo Ran makes a strange, sympathetic sounding noise, before Chu Wanning suddenly feels arms around his waist and the back of his legs.
“Shizun, what the hell,” Chu Wanning says, his own voice sounding strangled, “Put me down! How dare you—”
“You’re in no position to be contradicting me right now,” Mo Ran says firmly, and looks down at him with very dark, freezingly cold eyes, “See if I ever let you out of the house alone again, Chu Wanning.”
That makes him stop squirming, and he automatically bites his lower lip, feeling cowed by the gaze. Oh. His shizun is…furious, to say the least. He feels something grip his chest tightly, causing his breath to hitch, like the air in his lungs had been replaced with scalding steam.
“I’m not mad at you,” Mo Ran sighs from above him, the frost in his eyes melting away, replaced with something warmer and kinder, “I’m just—I’m worried. I can’t…I refuse to see you hurt again.”
“I can go alone,” Chu Wanning murmurs, though he can’t begrudge the comforting warmth of his shizun arms holding him up, “Shizun already wasted enough time on me.”
“Waste?” Mo Ran barks out a sudden, sharp, brief laugh that didn’t sound amused, “Oh, A-Ning.”
—
“And you’re sure it looked like this?” Tanlang repeats, tapping on the sketch of the herb Chu Wanning had described that one of Tanlang’s disciples recreated as a drawing.
“Yes,” Chu Wanning affirms, already feeling annoyed at being asked to repeat himself a few times.
“Hm,” Tanlang makes a dubious noise.
“What? Is it toxic?” Mo Ran leans over to look at the sketch once more, “Do you need a sample, or another herb for an antidote? Just spit it out, I’ll head out right now—”
“No, just calm down for a second, will you?” Tanlang interrupts, sounding infuriated, “I’m thinking if he needs the antidote.”
“Why the hell wouldn’t he?” Mo Ran bristles as he stands up.
“Because the side-effects of the antidote are more trouble than it’s worth!” Tanlang slams a hand on the table where the sketch is, “Compared to this pollen, which is mostly harmless.”
“It’s a depressant, and lowers inhibitions and amplifies emotion—more specifically, it makes the person affected feel much more emotionally vulnerable,” Tanlang shrugs, “It doesn’t compel, but it’s…a bit like a truth spell in its effects, I suppose. And considering your disciple, well…”
Chu Wanning winces, ignoring the pitying eyes that land on him at that, “And the antidote?”
“Hm. There’s this stimulant…” Tanlang says slowly, “It should be strong enough to counteract the effects, however…it’s also an aphrodisiac.”
With a blink, Chu Wanning wonders whether he heard the old man say what he thinks he heard. Belatedly, he feels his ears be covered by his shizun’s now dry and warm hands.
“Your disciple is hardly a child anymore nor a blushing maiden,” Tanlang says dryly, which Chu Wanning can still hear, “He can handle hearing the word aphrodisiac, I should think. With you as his shizun, I’m sure he’s heard far worse—”
“Ladilalala,” Mo Ran sings in gibberish over Tanlang, “You didn’t hear anything. A-Ning ignore the nasty old man, okay?”
“Are you getting the antidote or not?” Tanlang snaps at them, “Make a decision already so I can go back to work. If you’re staying, then stay, if not, get out.”
What he says next is something that Chu Wanning will forever blame on the weird pollen thing, because there’s no way he would ever say this shit in his right mind, “So it’s either spend a night seeing Tanlang’s bitter face or spend a night in a brothel?”
Actual, literal gasps fill the room, even Tanlang Elder looks absolutely scandalized, his hand coming up to cover his mouth.
Shizun…shizun is looking at Chu Wanning with an utterly agape expression, jaw dropped and everything, eyes wide with pure shock, his hands twitching where it was raised in front of him after falling off from covering Chu Wanning’s ears.
—
They ended up getting kicked out of the healers’ after his shizun broke a bed frame. Were they always that flimsy? The end frame came right off, and the bed collapsed into a heap—thankfully no poor soul had been on it. Shizun seemed to be stunned into silence by Chu Wanning’s words; a sight he never thought he’d see, really. That is, until they reached the outside and his shizun really, really made sure Chu Wanning understood what he felt about his words.
“I promise I’ve never been,” Chu Wanning crosses his arms sullenly, defending himself against his shizun’s furious questioning, “I just said it cause…I don’t know…isn’t that where people go when they—when they need to…you know. That’s where shizun goes as well, right?”
Mo Ran makes a sound in-between furious, offended, and a plethora of other things Chu Wanning can’t name before saying, “That’s—no! I mean, not anymore. And that’s not where you go if you’ve been drugged with an aphrodisiac, especially not you, Chu Wanning, fucking hell—”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Chu Wanning glares at his shizun, “Why can’t I go?”
“Don’t even think about it,” Mo Ran’s looking at Chu Wanning with dark, furious eyes that had a glint of something, “Don’t—gods, don’t even think about it, or so help me…”
“What?” Chu Wanning challenges, despite knowing he should have backed down long ago, “What if I thought about it?”
Chu Wanning is not afraid of his shizun. But he becomes a little bit close to feeling it when he finds himself crowded against the bark of a tree, both of Mo Ran’s hands flat against each side of Chu Wanning’s head.
“Are you sure you want to find out the answer to that, Chu Wanning?” Chu Wanning feels a shiver run through his spine, at the tone and words, and how his shizun’s warm breath feels against the sensitive outer shell of his ear.
Feeling uncharacteristically meek, Chu Wanning quietly shakes his head, finally no longer inviting danger and his shizun’s ire.
“Good boy,” and just like that, his shizun’s countenance brightens once more, laying a hand over the top of Chu Wanning’s head, “Now let’s go back. Tanlang said the effects haven’t reached its full height, right?”
“And we have the antidote, just in case,” Mo Ran smiles down at Chu Wanning as he holds up the vial, who looks away when he feels his cheeks and ears heat up after remembering Tanlang’s words about its effects.
—
“Aw, are you sleepy?” Mo Ran asks with a laugh as he smooths Chu Wanning’s hair down, “Just a bit more, we’re almost there—look, we’re already in front of the gate.”
Chu Wanning pauses from rubbing his eyes, and blinks blearily at the front of his shizun’s residence, which is still covered in the barrier, its reddish glow standing out beautifully in the middle of the night. Which also starkly reminds him, once again, of what today was supposed to be. He’s surprised to find that the barrier lets him pass through—has his shizun removed its blocking properties while he wasn’t paying attention?
He finds his breath absolutely taken away when he sees hundreds of fireflies gently flying around, illuminating the entire courtyard, looking a bit like tiny little lanterns. The miniature haitang trees that had been in full bloom during spring were now beginning to slowly begin falling, its white petals floating alongside the golden light, showering the ground beautifully.
The scene is entirely too picturesque and beautiful to be natural, Chu Wanning thinks. Coupled with the unexpected barrier over the residence…his shizun must have planned all of this, huh? It’s…so tooth-rottingly sweet and romantic, he kind of understands why those girls from before were gushing so much.
Or rather, it should taste sweet…
But Chu Wanning is a shameful, bitter, envious man, and instead of being happy for his shizun and his shixiong, he tastes something acrid and sour overtake the inside of his mouth. He feels nauseous.
“What do you think?” his shizun asks, stumbling slightly over the word ‘what’.
“It’s very pretty,” Chu Wanning admits, though unable to muster up his previous cheer. Even if it weren’t for the effects of the pollen…he doesn’t think he could fake enthusiasm anyway. It’s fine, what does his opinion matter anyway. So long as its recipient appreciated it. Shizun’s only asking out of curiosity anyway.
“Oh,” Mo Ran scratches his cheek slightly, and looks away, “You must be tired. Come on.”
As they enter the house, Chu Wanning notices that the table is still filled with full plates. Those are a lot of leftovers, it’s a bit disheartening and a waste. But then again his shixiong has never been much of a heavy eater.
“Do you want to eat first?” his shizun asks, likely having seen him looking at the food.
“Later?” Chu Wanning shakes his head, “I already ate some bread.”
“Alright,” Mo Ran snorts slightly, “Sit for a bit while I draw you a bath.”
“I can do it,” Chu Wanning insists, but his shizun puts both hands on his shoulders and makes him sit down.
“You look like you’re going to fall asleep in the next minute, I’m worried you’ll fall down the tub,” Mo Ran comments, “Tanlang did say that’s one of the early side effects.”
“I’ll be right back—don’t fall asleep on the food,” Mo Ran cautions, “At least lean back against the chair.”
Chu Wanning tries to keep awake by inspecting the contents of the table. Maybe there’s something sweet to eat or drink? Considering how his shizun somehow never learned that Shi Mei doesn’t care too much for sweet stuff, there’s bound to be one or two pastries right?
Most of the food here is surprising to Chu Wanning. He hadn’t realized he and his shixiong shared the same tastes to this extent. Wasn’t Shi Mei far more interested in spicy food, just like shizun? But not a single dish here looked anywhere remotely spicy. Weird.
There’s a couple of lotus crisps sitting innocently on a small basket that catches his eye. Well…his shizun did offer, and surely if he did, that means he won’t mind Chu Wanning getting one, right? Just one. He promises. Pinky swear.
—
“I’m sorry,” Chu Wanning says immediately when Mo Ran steps back in sight, “I’ll buy another batch, I promise—”
“Woah, what?” Mo Ran jogs closer, “What’s wrong?”
“I ate it all,” Chu Wanning says mournfully, pointing at the now empty basket of lotus pastries, “I said I’d only get one, but I ended up eating it all…but the baker said they’ll have more early tomorrow morning?”
His shizun doesn’t get mad, or disappointed, or even indifferent. Instead he just…laughs. Like very loudly and for a good long while. It’s kinda pounding against his ears in volume, but it’s a nice sounding laugh. Chu Wanning wishes he’d hear it more often.
“That pollen is really starting to hit you hard, huh?” Mo Ran pinches both his cheeks, and Chu Wanning lets him this time without a fight, because he did something bad but his shizun isn’t mad at him, “Don’t worry about the lotus pastries. I’ll get you some more tomorrow.”
“Come on, these clothes probably aren’t helping,” Mo Ran fiddles with Chu Wanning’s collar, “You’ve still got some pollen sticking to it. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
“I’m not a little kid,” Chu Wanning protests, feeling a bit infantile hearing his shizun’s words.
“Sorry, force of habit,” Mo Ran gives him a smirk, right before he says, “Though you didn’t have any problem with it in Peach Blossom Springs.”
“That’s—” Chu Wanning suddenly feels painfully, irreversibly awake, “Shut up!”
“I’m wounded, A-Ning,” Mo Ran clutches at his chest dramatically, “You used to call me gege so sweetly—”
“Shut the hell up!”
—
Chu Wanning slowly wakes to the feeling of a comb brushing his hair slowly, carefully. Huh—where? He doesn’t remember getting into the bath or going out of it, but his hair feels wet, so he must have…
Belatedly, he notices that he’s curled up and fully leaning against something hard and very warm and comfortable. Smells nice.
“I’m glad you think so,” a shaky, amused-sounding voice comes from above. Chu Wanning feels a rumble against his ear, like if thunder was soothing and safe instead of scary.
Wait.
Chu Wanning uncurls and blinks as he looks up, only to see his shizun’s mischievous-looking expression looking down on him. Just as he pushes Mo Ran away, however, he feels himself utterly engulfed by both of the man’s arms, held close and tight instead, unable to flee.
“You said it feels comfortable right? And that I smell nice?”
“Shizun…” Chu Wanning can’t help but whine, feeling childish as he does so, “Don’t…”
“Hn, well the sentiment is mutual,” Mo Ran laughs as he squeezes Chu Wanning further, “You always smell so good, so sweet.”
“Stay here,” Mo Ran says as if Chu Wanning had any choice, “Just like this. Just for a bit longer.”
Well…it was his shizun who’s asking. No one needs to know how yearningly desperately he wants to never leave the other man’s embrace—what he would give up and sacrifice, to have had this before and to continue having this now, even for just a moment.
—
“Shizun…”
“Hm?”
“Are you busy tomorrow?”
“Nope, why?”
“Really?” Chu Wanning peeks out from where he was hiding his face against his shizun’s chest.
This casual, sort of intimate touch is entirely far too novel and wondrous. And yet he can’t even seem to feel the full effect of it. Everything feels muted yet heightened—rather, his surroundings, the outside, feels muted. And himself, his sense of self—it’s starting to get too much? He’s too aware of his emotions, his thoughts, but too swallowed by the numbness of his body to do anything about it.
“Well,” Mo Ran scratches his cheek, “Sect duties can wait a bit longer. What did you have in mind?”
“It doesn’t have to be during the day.”
“Okay…?”
“But…after, if you have time—”
“Yes…?”
“Can you…with me,” Chu Wanning fights against the impending humiliation and embarrassment already descending on him, “Spend time with me. For an hour? Or half an hour.”
“You’re breaking my heart here,” Mo Ran chuckles softly, “It can be an hour. Or longer. The whole day, if you don’t get sick of me.”
“No need to exaggerate,” Chu Wanning huffs, mildly irritated, “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
“Who says I can’t keep it?”
“Hn, an hour then,” Chu Wanning says, feeling pleased and hopeful despite himself. His heart feels too light yet too full.
“Did you want to go somewhere?”
“...I don’t know…”
“That’s okay. We’ll figure it out tomorrow.”