The Husky and His White Cat Shizun

Chapter 154: Master, I'm Going to Look for Ye Wangxi

This was rather awkward. When Nan Gongliu entered the room, Madame Wang, Xue Meng, and Xue Zhengyong immediately stood up to greet him with respect.

But Chu Wanning wasn't in the mood, so he remained standing by the window.

As for Mo Ran, the Confucian Wind Sect had been nothing but a shattered sect trampled under his feet in his previous life. No matter how glamorous its appearance, he knew it was just a loose assembly of sand, nothing worthy of reverence. He didn't deliberately intend to embarrass Nan Gongliu; it was simply a habit, so he never thought about standing up.

The situation became peculiar.

Nan Gongliu, as the host and elder, stood there with a pleasant smile, not at all offended, his face still warm with familiarity.

In contrast, Mo Ran, as the guest and junior, was caught sitting lazily. He lounged in an armchair with his legs crossed, holding a steaming cup of tea in his hand.

Xue Zhengyong hadn't noticed Mo Ran's behavior earlier, but when he turned back, he couldn't help feeling embarrassed.

Mo Ran was far too disrespectful!

"This must be... Grandmaster Mo, whose fame has soared in recent years, right?"

Mo Ran set down his teacup, covering it with the lid as he lifted his gaze and said, "Indeed."

"Truly, heroes arise in—"

But Mo Ran interrupted, smiling. "Immortal Nan Gong, you've already used that phrase on my younger cousin. Please don't use it on me."

His tone was mild, his smile warm; he seemed polite. But the words he spoke were anything but courteous. He didn't even rise from his seat. After finishing his sentence, he picked up his teacup again, gently scraping the edge of the celadon lid before blowing away the misty vapor rising from its surface.

Lowering his thick, long lashes, he lowered his lids and slowly sipped his tea.

He was young, handsome, tall, and composed, carrying himself as if he were the true master of the Confucian Wind Sect, the one standing at the pinnacle of the cultivation world. And Nan Gongliu? Merely a dog beneath his feet.

"Haha, Grandmaster Mo is right. I am indeed ignorant and inexperienced, unable to think of a better turn of phrase, so—"

"Nonsense," Mo Ran put down his cup, lifting his eyes with a smile. "Since Immortal Nan Gong entered this room, you've been spouting compliments left and right. If you can't speak well, then who can?"

"Oh, I couldn't possibly accept such high praise from Grandmaster Mo," Nan Gongliu demurred.

"Who said I was praising you?" Mo Ran's bright black eyes gazed at him, still smiling. "Being too skilled with words can sometimes be a disadvantage."

Xue Zhengyong was beginning to feel overwhelmed. He lowered his voice and called out, "Ran-er!"

In his opinion, it was understandable for Chu Wanning and Nan Gongliu to have a falling out, given their history and Chu Wanning's status. But Mo Ran...

Mo Ran ignored Xue Zhengyong and spoke to Nan Gongliu instead, "Save those compliments for other juniors, Immortal Lord Nan. I'm an uncultured person; I don't understand them, nor do I wish to hear them."

Xue Zhengyong: "............"

Mo Ran knew that his actions would displease his uncle, but he didn't regret it.

There were too many vile things in the world, and Chu Wanning, with his fiery temper, was always willing to take the lead. A long time ago, when exorcising demons at Luo Xianxian's residence, Chu Wanning had beaten up Magistrate Chen, who had bullied a weak woman, without caring about his reputation or the consequences.

Chu Wanning had done nothing wrong, yet he was constantly criticized for being "cold-blooded," "arbitrary," and "inhumane."

Mo Ran didn't want anyone to call his master "rude" again.

So, he was willing to be even more outrageous, even more excessive, just so he could protect Chu Wanning. Thus, in this room, the other three accepted Nan Gongliu's flattery and goodwill out of politeness, but not Mo Ran.

This wasn't a sudden whim. Ever since he found out that Chu Wanning had crawled back from the mountain of corpses and sea of blood against all odds, ever since he saw that strand of human soul at the Naihe Bridge, that bowl of wontons, and ever since he went to the depths of hell to rescue Chu Wanning, he swore...

As long as Chu Wanning was willing, he would stand alongside him from then on.

Nan Gongliu had been rejected twice in a row. If it had been any other sect leader, they would have lost their temper and chased the visitors away.

But Nan Gongliu didn't. He acted as if nothing had happened, cheerfully continuing his conversation with Xue Zhengyong, leaving the latter feeling awkward. He pulled Nan Gongliu aside and apologized for his nephew's misbehavior.

Nan Gongliu laughed. "Oh, young people, who doesn't have a bit of fire in their blood? I think Grandmaster Mo is a passionate person, and that's a good thing."

After meeting Nan Gongliu, the disciples of the Confucian Wind Sect led the group to a separate courtyard to settle down.

Mo Ran sneezed all the way there. Xue Meng turned to look at him. "Don't tell me you cursed the Sect Leader Nan just now and got cursed back…."

"Shoo, shoo, you're the one cursed." Tears welled up in Mo Ran's eyes. "I... Achoo! I can't handle strong incense. That room we just left—Ach-oo! The scent was just too… Ach-oo! Too..."

"Too unbearable."

"Oh, M- Achoo! aster!"

Chu Wanning handed him a handkerchief, frowning in disgust. "Wipe your face, you look terrible."

Mo Ran, with tears in his eyes, gratefully received the handkerchief embroidered with peony blossoms, smiling. "Thank you, Master, for caring about me."

Chu Wanning felt a bit awkward by his words. "Who cares about you?"

"Exactly!" Xue Meng protested. "Who cares about you? Master obviously cares about me the most!"

Mo Ran looked down on him slightly. "How old are you now, still competing over this?" He then held the handkerchief and spoke solemnly. "Remember, Master promised to embroider another identical one for me. Do you have one?"

"..." Chu Wanning snatched the handkerchief back and sternly said, "Mo Weiyu!"

Xue Meng was taken aback at first, then angrily blurted out, "I wouldn't believe in a million years that Master would sew a handkerchief for you. Stop daydreaming, shameless!"

As they talked, they arrived at the detached courtyard that Nan Gongliu had arranged for them. The courtyard had four sections: one for Xue Zhengyong and Madame Wang, and one each for the other three. The winding paths led through a garden filled with swaying flowers and the sound of flowing water, making it a refined and picturesque place.

But when Mo Ran saw where they were staying, he froze. A layer of gloom unknowingly clouded his eyes. As he followed the group into the courtyard, seeing the bricks, tiles, plants, and rocks, his mood turned even more somber.

This was a place from his past life that left a deep impression on him in the Rúfēng Sect.

Standing there again, he couldn't help but wonder if he would have still walked the same path and become the Tyrant Immortal Emperor without Chu Wanning sacrificing his life for him. Thinking about this, he broke out in a cold sweat, and countless thoughts surged in his chest.

Mo Ran closed his eyes, his emotions well in hand. He was no longer the young man whose joy and anger were as sharp as blades. Thus, no one could see the gloom that shrouded his heart.

They each returned to their chambers for rest. Mo Ran stood before the courtyard that had been assigned to him, hands clasped behind his back, but he didn't push the door open to enter.

The maid who greeted him in the courtyard appeared uneasy and cautiously asked, "Is there something unsatisfactory about the room, Immortal Lord?"

"Oh, no," Mo Ran came back to his senses, smiling. "I just found this courtyard reminiscent of a place I used to live in, and it stirred up some emotions."

"It seems we have quite the coincidence here, Your Excellency. I had assumed you didn't favor this place. If there's anything else you desire, just tell this servant, and I shall do my utmost to fulfill your wishes."

Mo Ran smiled. "I'm fine. You all go on with your tasks."

After saying that, he lifted his head to look at the century-old osmanthus tree in the courtyard, its shade brushing past his eyelashes like a ghostly apparition from his past life.

His lashes fluttered slightly, and a sense of melancholy stirred within him.

Suddenly, he turned around to call back the maid who was about to leave. "Wait a moment!"

"Is there anything else, Lord Immortal?"

"… I want to ask you about someone." Mo Ran paused and lifted his gaze, his eyes sharp as he continued, "Do you know of a person who…?"

"What?"

"Never mind, let's not talk about that. Let me ask you something else," Mo Ran said. "Do you know where Ye Wangxi is?"

The servant girl replied, "Young Master Ye is Elder Xu's direct disciple. He lives in the same courtyard as Elder Xu. If Your Highness wishes to meet him, just go there."

Mo Ran secretly breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing this. The last time he saw Ye Wangxi was at an inn when Ye Wangxi had begged Nan Gongsi to return with him. But Nan Gongsi refused, so Ye Wangxi said, "If it's because of me that you don't want to return to the Confucian Wind Sect, then I'll leave."

He had been somewhat concerned for Ye Wangxi. He believed that Ye Wangxi had suffered enough in his previous life. Both Ye Wangxi and Chu Wanning were steadfast gentlemen, but one was reserved while the other was passionate. Yet, neither of them had ended up well.

Mo Ran regretted his past actions and wished for Ye Wangxi to have a better life this time around. He was relieved that Nan Gongsi hadn't been so heartless as to truly drive Ye Wangxi away.

Elder Xu's private courtyard was named "Three Lives Courtyard," supposedly inspired by the idea of "drinking Meng Po's water to forget three lifetimes of affairs." Elder Xu seemed to imply that life was short, and one should let go of what needed forgetting rather than holding onto it and causing oneself more trouble. After all, when one died, they wouldn't remember anything at the Bridge of Helplessness.

It sounded like the elder was quite pessimistic, no wonder he had taught Ye Wangxi to be such a tight-lipped introvert.

"Fascinating, this parrot is quite clever. Come, recite another part: a basket of rice, a ladle of water, living in a humble lane…"

Please inform the guards and announce my purpose. Before I could even circle around the screen wall, I heard a man's leisurely laughter coming from the courtyard.

Mo Ran took a few steps forward and saw a man in his early thirties standing in the yard, bathed in sunlight. The man wore a plain, unadorned robe with patches at the hem. Despite the cold, he wasn't wearing any shoes, and his bare feet rested on the chilly stone tiles. In his hand, he held a handful of sunflower seeds, amusing himself by teasing a snow-white parrot with sapphire blue eyes that had long, elegant tail feathers.

The parrot flapped its wings back and forth, swaying on its perch, seemingly pleased with itself as it sang loudly, "Ah~ A bowl of rice~ A ladle of water~ In a humble lane~"

"That's right, good job. You're smarter than Little Ye. He wasn't as capable as you when he was young; he couldn't recite this no matter how hard he tried." The man rewarded the parrot with a handful of nuts. "Come, your old man here has a treat for you."

"............"

This person referred to themselves as the bird's father...

Did that mean he considered himself a bird?

The man turned around and saw Mo Ran standing by the screen wall. He first cracked open a sunflower seed, then spat it out, suddenly breaking into a grin. His smile was radiant yet mischievous, and under the bright sunlight, he appeared incredibly debonair.

"Mo Ran, Grandmaster Mo, I presume?" he chuckled. "Nice to meet you."

Mo Ran smiled in return. "Nice to meet you too."

After his laughter, he studied the man's face intently. It seemed familiar; he had probably seen him during the massacre of the Confucian Wind Sect in his previous life. This man was...

"Stepfather, why are you running around barefoot again?"

Suddenly, a recognizable voice echoed, light yet impactful like a spring thunderbolt.

Mo Ran turned abruptly to see Ye Wangxi emerge from behind the crescent-shaped arched door. He was still slender and upright, with gentle eyes and a pair of bright yellow silk slippers in hand. He walked up to the young man, bowed slightly, and placed them down.

Stepfather?

Ye Wangxi's stepfather...

Mo Ran's heart pounded fiercely, as if he could hear cries from another lifetime, the clashing of swords, and the blaring of war horns.

"Stepfather!!"

A blood-stained face flashed through his memory.

It was Ye Wangxi, weeping and screaming, his voice tearing through the heavens... Back then, when Mo Ran had slaughtered the Confucian Wind Sect, Nan Gongliu had escaped for his life, leaving the seventy-two cities in chaos without their leader. Eventually, Elder Xu, the sect's first protector, stepped forward to restore order, gathering the scattered soldiers that Mo Ran had nearly destroyed, and together with Ye Wangxi, they fought back.

He didn't bear the surname Nangong, yet he had taken on the responsibilities of a Nangong Sect Leader, willing to share the fate of the Confucian Wind Sect's seventy-two cities as an elder.

He wasn't Ye Wangxi's biological father, but when a spirit-infused dagger was aimed at Ye Wangxi's back, he stepped in front of his adopted son, using his own flesh and blood to shield and protect the child he had raised with all his heart.

Mo Ran had been standing on the city wall at that moment, overlooking the scene. He had seen it all and a twisted smile had curled at the corners of his mouth—God alone knew how envious he had been.

With no blood ties, there was actually someone in this world who would willingly die for another!

His narrow-minded heart had been shaken and pained. His jealousy had driven him to the brink of madness; his eyes had turned bloodshot.

He thought to himself, Fine, excellent. How fortunate Ye Wangxi was. If only, in this vast world, apart from his mother, there could be one more person willing to die for Mo Weiyu without hesitation, then why would he have ended up where he was now? !

The heavens were kind to everyone except him. They were so stingy, so cruel!

He wanted to destroy those he envied, to send all these comrades-in-arms to hell. Why should only he be denied a single day of happiness or a moment of warmth? The only person who had ever treated him kindly was long gone.

That tiny bit of affection he possessed—why should they take it away from him? !

He despised!

"..."

In retrospect, Mo Ran realized how naive he had been back then. There had been someone in this mortal world who was willing to die for him, yet he had missed his chance, he had let it slip, and he had been unaware.

Mo Ran closed his eyes, calming the turmoil within him, before lifting his gaze once more.

He knew who this man was now. He was Ye Wangxi's master and also his adoptive father—Xu Shuanglin.

The day after the massacre at the Confucian Wind Sect, he had sacrificed himself to save Ye Wangxi amidst the flames of war.

Mo Ran turned away, his heart aching, unable to bear looking at that carefree, smiling figure basking in the sunlight.

He went to greet Ye Wangxi.

"Young Master Ye."

Ye Wangxi noticed Mo Ran standing some distance away and was taken aback for a moment before he smiled and said, "Ah, Brother Mo is here too. It's been a long time."

"It has been a while."

In truth, Ye Wangxi had only met Mo Ran a few times in his life, so they weren't very familiar. He thus continued with a smile, "Are you here to see my foster father?"

"…" Mo Ran glanced at Xu Shuanglin, feeling a little awkward. He shook his head and said, "No, I'm here to see you."

"Little Ye, how long has it been since someone came to this courtyard looking for you? That's quite rare," Xu Shuanglin said with a leisurely smile as he stuffed another peanut into his mouth. "Where did you meet Grandmaster Mo?"

"In Peach Blossom Spring."

"That's great, that's great." Xu Shuanglin smiled, throwing the remaining peanuts into the bird feeder. "You two chat, I'll take a stroll elsewhere."

Ye Wangxi held him back. "Foster father, why aren't you wearing your shoes again?"

"Oh, I forgot." Xu Shuanglin put on his shoes with a grin. "Is that better?"

But Mo Ran noticed out of the corner of his eye that the man strolled slowly to the corner, bent down to take off his shoes again, and casually tucked them into his embrace before walking away nonchalantly.

"..."

The father and son pair looked and behaved so differently. Xu Shuanglin appeared young due to his cultivation method, his face forever frozen at thirty, making him seem like Ye Wangxi's brother.

Considering his temperament as well, this person was somewhat willful and mischievous, not at all like an elder brother, but more like Ye Wangxi's younger sibling.

So was that solemn "Three Lives Courtyard" plaque hanging outside the door just playing a joke on people?

Walking side by side, Ye Wangxi and Mo Ran strolled down the tree-lined path.

This courtyard was filled with flower trees and fruit trees, but it was the depths of winter now. All the leaves had withered away, leaving only a few shriveled yellow ones clinging to the branches. A gust of wind would send them swaying precariously.

"I'm sorry for the scene I caused in the tavern last time," Ye Wangxi said.

"No need to apologize," Mo Ran replied. "How have you been these days?"

He regretted the question as soon as he asked it, because someone like Ye Wangxi wouldn't voice any complaints, no matter how poorly he was doing. As expected, Ye Wangxi smiled and said, "I'm doing alright. And you?"

"I'm fine."

In truth, they weren't that close. Mo Ran had come to see him only because he'd been thinking about their past karma and feeling pained. Now that he was alone with Ye Wangxi, he found himself at a loss for words.

Mo Ran knew many of Ye Wangxi's secrets, but none of them could be shared. They walked in silence for a while before Ye Wangxi asked, "How is Xia Sini?"

Mo Ran was taken aback for a moment before he chuckled. "You still remember that name? Impressive."

"He has a very memorable name."

"Haha, that's true. Xia Sini is also here this time. You'll get to meet him later."

Ye Wangxi looked surprised. "He's here too?... But the Sect Leader didn't invite him, did he?"

"Ah, you don't know who Xia Sini is, do you?" Mo Ran said with a smile. "Let me tell you, the story behind it is quite a long one."

So he recounted the whole story of how Chu Wanning was actually Xia Sini. After listening, Ye Wangxi fell silent for a while before sighing. "How fortunate Young Master Mo is to have such a person as his master."

Mo Ran replied, "How fortunate is the Confucian Wind Sect to have Young Master Ye as its disciple."

Ye Wangxi felt a little embarrassed and smiled gently. "Young Master Mo speaks too highly of me."

They walked onto a small redwood bridge. The path they had taken was littered with dead branches and leaves, but here, the surroundings were lush and vibrant, with slender bamboo plants standing tall against the snow. The water in the Confucian Wind Sect was infused with spiritual energy, so it didn't freeze. Standing on the bridge, they could hear the babbling stream beneath their feet, surrounded by greenery.

Mo Ran turned around and saw Ye Wangxi gazing down at the sparkling stream, his dark eyes shimmering. The person was still the same, but the exhaustion on his face was clear for anyone to see.

It was far too cruel for Nan Gongsi to be getting married. Suddenly, Mo Ran couldn't bear it. It was as if he saw Chu Wanning, who had given so much but received not even a fleeting glance in return. He asked, "Young Master Ye, why don't you come to the Summit of Life and Death?"

"What?"

"..." Realizing his words were impetuous, and anticipating Ye Wangxi's answer, Mo Ran sighed. "I was just speaking off the cuff. You don't have to take it to heart, Sir."

Ye Wangxi smiled. His original smile was captivating, with seven parts bravery and three parts grace. But now, although he was still the same person and wore the same smile, his cheekbones had slightly sunken. His bravery remained, but his grace had withered, leaving only two pools of sorrow behind.

He tried to conceal it, but the sadness was too profound. Despite his efforts, he failed to hide it completely.

He said with a smile, "So Brother Mo is recruiting for the Summit of Life and Death?"

"Haha, yes, that's right. But I doubt Young Master Ye would come, so it was just a joke."

"Mm, as long as my foster father remains here, I won't leave."

"What are your plans for the future, Sir?"

"..." Ye Wangxi's expression showed a hint of pain, and he was unable to answer immediately. He didn't know what his future plans were. He felt like a moth drawn to the flame that was Nan Gongsi; he always wanted to follow that light, even if it meant being shattered into pieces.

But Nan Gongsi didn't want him.

"I'll... continue doing what I'm supposed to do in the Confucian Wind Sect," Ye Wangxi said with a smile. "Assist the sect leader, assist my foster father, and in the future, assist the young master."

He paused, his hand curling into a fist, his knuckles as pale as jade.

Mo Ran was startled that Ye Wangxi could calmly utter the last part of his sentence. He truly could say it...

"Assist the young madam."

After finishing, it seemed he could no longer endure it, and he lowered his eyes. But only for a moment. Then, he lifted his gaze again, looking at Mo Ran with humility and grace. A smile still lingered on his face, and he stood tall and resolute like a bamboo in the biting cold of winter.

Suddenly, a western wind blew, stirring up the accumulated snow on the bamboo, making it appear like reeds scattering in all directions.

In that instant, Mo Ran thought, No, Nan Gongsi can't marry Song Qiutong.