That hoarse voice was perfectly calm, but that very calmness framed the frightening madness beneath.
Chu Wanning felt that person come closer and stop in front of him. A hand gripped his jaw.
Blearily, he opened his eyes, trying to get a look at him. Under the bright, dazzling lights, he saw a blurry face with strong, pitch-black brows, a straight nose, and eyes dark like the blackest satin, with a faint tinge of purple in the light of the candle.
“Mo Ran…?”
“Shizun!”
Suddenly, a voice called to him in sharp definition.
Chu Wanning’s eyes flew open. He was still lying in the room at the inn, it was still dark outside, and a lone candle flickered on the table.
Mo Ran was sitting at the edge of the bed with one hand pressed against Chu Wanning’s forehead and the other braced on the bed, looking at him worriedly.
“What did I…” Chu Wanning felt all out of sorts. That dream had been far too real, and for a while, he couldn’t quite break out of his daze.
“You had a nightmare. You were shaking so much,” Mo Ran said as he tucked his blanket around him. “You looked like you were freezing. I was worried you might be running a fever, but thankfully not.”
Chu Wanning uttered a quiet, “oh,” and turned to look out of the slightly opened window. The sky was yet dark outside, the night yet deep. “It was snowing in my dream,” he murmured, then said no more. He sat up, burying his face in one hand and taking a moment to steady himself before exhaling slowly. “Must’ve been overtired.”
“I’ll go make some ginger tea for you.” Mo Ran gazed worriedly at the paleness of his face. “Shizun, you look terrible.”
Chu Wanning did not respond.
Faced with this lack of reply, Mo Ran sighed and, without really thinking, instinctively pressed his own forehead against Chu Wanning’s cold, sweat-drenched brow. “If you don’t say anything, I’ll take that as a, ‘yes.’”
Startled by the sudden closeness, Chu Wanning reflexively leaned backward a little. “Mn.”
Mo Ran, also not quite awake, offhandedly stroked Chu Wanning’s hair like he had in his past life. Then he pulled on his outer robe and went downstairs to borrow the kitchen. A little while later, he returned with a wooden tray.
Mo Ran wasn’t heartless. Chu Wanning had rushed to Peach Blossom Springs to save him and had also gone to great lengths to protect him. No matter how much resentment he’d harbored toward this person before, for the time being, he was grateful.
The tray bore a pot of steaming ginger tea and a small jar of brown sugar. Mo Ran knew that while Chu Wanning didn’t like things with overly strong flavors, he was quite fond of sweet foods.
Besides the ginger tea, he had also brought a mantou from the kitchen, which he had sliced into thin pieces, soaked in fresh milk, then fried until crispy, before finishing them off with a sprinkling of powdered sugar to make for a plate of simple light snacks.
Color gradually returned to Chu Wanning’s face as he held a cup of ginger tea in both hands and sipped slowly from it. He picked up a piece of the sweet, crispy mantou between porcelain-white fingertips and contemplated it for a while. “What’s this?”
“I just threw something together. It doesn’t have a name yet.”
Mo Ran scratched his head. “Try it, Shizun. It’s sweet.”
Chu Wanning disliked fried foods, thinking them greasy, but on hearing the word “sweet,” he held one to his lips and hesitantly took a small bite. “Mm…”
“Is it good?” Mo Ran asked experimentally.
Chu Wanning glanced at him and said nothing, but he picked up another piece to eat with the ginger tea.
The pot of tea and plateful of snacks quickly disappeared, and in this warmth, the remnants of the nightmare also dissipated like smoke. Chu Wanning yawned and lay down once more. “I’m going back to sleep.”
“Hang on.” Mo Ran lifted his hand to wipe the corner of Chu Wanning’s lips. “You got some crumbs there.”
Chu Wanning did not reply. That open smile on Mo Ran’s face made his ears feel a little warm despite himself. He turned his
face away with a soft sound of assent and paid him no more heed.
Mo Ran collected the dishes and went downstairs to return them. When he came back, he saw Chu Wanning lying on his side, facing the wall, perhaps already asleep. He walked up and quietly put down the curtain, at which point Chu Wanning spoke. “It’s cold at night. Don’t sleep on the floor anymore.”
“Then…”
Chu Wanning, with his long eyelashes lowered, truly wanted
Mo Ran to stay. However, the words, “Sleep up here,” wouldn’t come out, even as the tips of his ears kept getting warmer and warmer.
He cared for Mo Ran and so didn’t want him to sleep on the floor, but he also liked him and didn’t want him to leave.
Chu Wanning’s face was terribly thin, and he knew all too well that even if he did manage to get out the words, he would surely be rejected. Then both his veneer and dignity would be forfeit. Even thinking about it made him feel pathetic. Things had been so much easier as Xia Sini. Little ones were allowed to be a bit willful.
Yet Mo Ran had been good to him today. He’d even remembered that Chu Wanning liked a lot of brown sugar in his ginger tea. Was it acceptable for him to think that, maybe, Mo Ran did actually care for him a little bit?
The thought made Chu Wanning’s chest warm, and in a hotheaded moment, he blurted out: “Come sleep up here.”
“I’ll go see if they’re done yet, and if so, I’ll return to my own room.”
Chu Wanning and Mo Ran spoke at practically the same time. Mo Ran didn’t fully process his shizun’s words until after he had finished speaking himself. His eyes widened slightly when he did.
“Sounds good,” Chu Wanning concurred instantly, as if rushing to cover up what he had said. “Go on.”
“Shizun, you…”
“I’m tired. You can leave.”
“All right… Rest well, Shizun.”
Mo Ran left, the door creaking open and then shut.
In the darkness, Chu Wanning opened his eyes. His heart raced in his chest, and his palms were covered with sweat, humiliated by his loss of self-control. He really had been alone for too long, if he could mistake a tiny sliver of kindness and care from someone for sincere tenderness. Like an idiot.
Irritated, he turned over and buried his face in his pillow, where he sank into a bottomless pit of self-loathing. He was well aware that Mo Ran liked Shi Mingjing and that there was nothing between himself and Mo Ran but for the polite distance of master and disciple. And yet…
The person from his dream appeared unbidden in his mind.
The same exact face, only older. The way he had looked at Chu Wanning with a surly expression and eyes too deep to read.
With a creak, the door opened again.
Chu Wanning froze, his entire back going stiff like a bow stretched taut.
Someone came over to his bed. There was a moment of silence, then he felt that person sit at the edge, bringing with him the light scent of freshly laundered clothes. “Shizun, are you asleep?”
No response.
So Mo Ran continued, voice even like he was discussing the weather. “They’re still at it.” He chuckled softly and lay down next to Chu Wanning with his head propped up on one arm, gaze sweeping over his shizun’s back as it very obviously and visibly tensed several degrees further. “Is Shizun’s offer from earlier still open?”
Chu Wanning did not reply.
“Shizun sure likes to ignore people. If Shizun doesn’t say anything, I’ll take it as a ‘yes,’ again.”
“Hmph.”
Mo Ran’s eyes lit with pleasure, purple-black and flickering with amusement at the cold hmph that came from the other side of the bed. If doting on Shi Mei was his habit, then teasing his shizun was a game he never tired of.
He never could figure out just what it was that he felt toward Chu Wanning. All he knew was that this person made his heart itch, made him want to bare his fangs and bite him until he started either crying or laughing—although either was, for the most part, wishful thinking.
But whenever that face, ever cool and impassive, showed the slightest bit of emotion because of Mo Ran, he found himself becoming fervently excited.
“Shizun.”
“Mn.”
“Nothing, just felt like saying it.”
Chu Wanning didn’t bother replying.
“Shizun.”
“If you have something to say, out with it. If not, shut up.”
“Ha ha ha.” Mo Ran laughed, then suddenly thought of something and asked, half-joking and half-serious, “I was thinking that Xia-shidi and Shizun really are incredibly alike. Shizun, is he your son?”
A long, long silence.
Chu Wanning had endured far too much emotional turmoil for one night, and he was in a sulky mood. Suddenly getting made fun of like this, he couldn’t help feeling irritated.
“Pfft, I was just messing with Shizun, don’t mind—”
“Yes,” Chu Wanning answered coolly. “He’s my son.”
Mo Ran was still grinning. “Oh, that’s what I figured. So he’s your son—wait! Son?!” Mo Ran’s eyes flew wide as if he’d been struck by lightning, his mouth hanging open in disbelief. “S-s-s-s-son?!”
“Mn.” Chu Wanning rolled over and pinned Mo Ran with a deadpan gaze, his face thoroughly serious and without the slightest hint of jest.
Chu Wanning had blundered too much tonight and feared that his facade might not hold. If Mo Ran wanted to make this joke, he might as well take the chance to muddy the waters. Chu Wanning would do whatever it took to ensure that Mo Ran didn’t realize that he liked him.
As Chu Wanning thought this, he calmly picked up the pieces of his dignity that he had dropped and said with all seriousness,
“Xia Sini is my illegitimate child. Even he doesn’t know this. As of right now, this is a secret known to the heavens, the earth, you, and me.
If a third person were ever to find out, I would utterly end you.”
Mo Ran was struck absolutely, completely, totally dumb.