The Husky and His White Cat Shizun

Chapter 2: This Seat Has Lived

"I had thought my heart was as still as stagnant water, with all desires fading away. Yet, in the depths of the bitterest winter, a hint of spring's warmth has appeared. Could it be that heaven has pity on the hidden valley grass? But alas, the world is often cruel and filled with trials."

A distant, clear soprano voice echoed in his ears, like the tinkling of jade and pearls, yet it pounded painfully against Mo Ran's temples, making his veins throb.

"Enough noise! Where did this wailing ghost come from? Fetch someone to beat this lowly maid down the mountain with clubs!"

After that outburst, Mo Ran suddenly realized something was amiss.

... Hadn't he already died?

Bitterness, coldness, pain, and desolation stabbed at his chest, causing him to jolt awake.

All memories of his death vanished like scattered snowflakes. He found himself lying in a bed, not the one on the summit of Life and Death Ridge. This bed was intricately carved with dragons and phoenixes, exuding a heavy scent of powder. The old bedding was a faded pink and purple, adorned with embroidery of mandarin ducks playing in the water – the kind a courtesan would use.

"..."

Mo Ran froze for a moment.

He knew exactly where he was.

This was a nearby pleasure quarter situated close to the Summit of Life and Death.

A "wazi," as it was called, was essentially a brothel, its name derived from the idea that "when one arrives, tiles come together; when one departs, tiles break apart," symbolizing the fleeting nature of relationships between patrons and courtesans.

During Mo Ran's younger, more dissolute days, he spent over half his nights in this very brothel. But the establishment had been sold off when he was in his twenties and had since been converted into a tavern. How could he have ended up in a place that no longer existed after his death?

Surely, he hadn't wronged so many young men and women in his lifetime that King Yama had condemned him to be reincarnated as a courtesan in a brothel?

Lost in these absurd thoughts, Mo Ran rolled over without conscious effort.

And there, lying before him, was a sleeping face he recognized.

"..."

What the hell?! Why was there someone else in bed with him?!

A naked man, at that!

The young man had a delicate face with exquisite features, appearing both innocent and charming, defying gender distinction.

Mo Ran's expression was stoic, but his heart was turbulent. Staring at the sleeping, fair-skinned face for a while, he suddenly recalled something.

Wasn't this the favored courtesan from his youth, known as either Rong San or Rong Jiu?

It might as well be Rong Jiu.

Whether it was San or Jiu, that didn't matter. What was crucial was that this courtesan had contracted a venereal disease and had been dead for years, his bones surely decayed by now. Yet here he was, alive and plump, nestled beside Mo Ran's bed, a shoulder and neck exposed beneath the silk blankets, adorned with numerous suggestive marks of purple and blue.

Mo Ran's face remained taut as he lifted the covers, his gaze drifting downward.

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

Let's assume this unknown Rong was Rong Jiu. The beautiful Rong Jiu was covered in whip marks, and on one creamy-white, tender thigh, several red ropes were intricately tied around him.

Mo Ran stroked his chin, secretly appreciating the scene: What exquisite taste.

Look at that refined rope art, the skillful technique, this familiar image.

Could it be that he had done this to himself?!

As a cultivator, he was familiar with the concept of rebirth. At this moment, he couldn't help but suspect that he had somehow returned to life.

To verify his theory, Mo Ran found a copper mirror. It was heavily worn, but through its dull, yellowish sheen, he could vaguely make out his own reflection.

Mo Ran had been thirty-two when he died, a man already in his prime. But the face staring back at him from the mirror appeared much younger, with a youthful impetuousness shining through his handsome features. He looked no more than fifteen or sixteen.

There was no one else in the bedroom. After a long silence, the once tyrannical ruler of the cultivation world, the notorious villain of Shu, the supreme emperor of the mortal realm, and the master of Death's Peak, Heaven-Stepping Lord Mo Ran, honestly expressed his feelings.

"Damn..."

That single expletive was enough to rouse Rong Jiu from his dozy state.

The beauty lazily sat up, the thin silk blanket draped over his shoulders sliding down to reveal a large expanse of pale, dazzling skin. With his long, soft hair loosely gathered, he raised his half-lidded, apricot-colored eyes, still heavy with sleep, and yawned, a hint of rosy flush on the corners of his lids.

"Mm... Young Master Mo, you're up quite early today."

Mo Ran didn't respond. Back then, more than a decade ago, he had indeed found Rong Jiu's enchanting, androgynous beauty captivating. But now, as a thirty-two-year-old Heaven-Stepping Lord, he could only question his past self's sanity for finding such a man attractive.

"Did you have a bad night's sleep, perhaps even a nightmare?"

Considering I'm already dead, wouldn't you say that counts as a nightmare?

Seeing Mo Ran remain silent and seemingly in a foul mood, Rong Jiu got out of bed and moved to stand by the latticed wooden window. He wrapped his arms around Mo Ran from behind.

"Young Master Mo, pay attention to me. Why are you so distant, ignoring me like this?"

At Rong Jiu's embrace, Mo Ran's face turned ashen. He wished nothing more than to instantly rip this little enchantress off his back and slap those delicate cheeks with a dozen hard slaps, but ultimately, he held back.

He was still a bit dazed, not quite grasping the situation.

After all, if he had truly been reborn, his actions yesterday—passionately entwined with Rong Jiu one moment, then brutally beating him until his nose was bruised and swollen the next—wouldn't be too different from suffering from a severe mental illness. It was inappropriate, most inappropriate.

Mo Ran composed himself and asked casually, "What's the date today?"

Rong Jiu paused for a moment before smiling and saying, "It's the fourth day of the fifth month."

"Year of Bing Shen?"

"That was last year. This year is the Year of Ding You. Young Master Mo truly has a busy mind, always looking back into the past."

The Year of Ding You...

Mo Ran's eyes swirled with emotions as his thoughts raced.

In the Year of Ding You, he had been fifteen years old, freshly acknowledged by the Lord of Life and Death Peak as his long-lost nephew. From a despised stray dog, he had soared to become a phoenix on high.

So, had he really been reborn?

Or was this all just a grand, empty dream after death...

Rong Jiu chuckled. "Young Master Mo, I think you're so hungry that you've lost track of time. Sit for a moment, I'll fetch you something to eat from the kitchen. How about some sesame twists and congee?

Mo Ran had just been reborn and wasn't sure how to react. But following his previous behavior couldn't go wrong. Recalling his flirtatious demeanor back then, he suppressed his disgust and playfully pinched Rong Jiu's thigh with a grin.

"Excellent, bring an extra bowl of congee too. Come back and feed me."

Rong Jiu donned his clothes and soon returned with a wooden tray, carrying a bowl of pumpkin congee, two sesame twists, and a small dish of side vegetables.

Mo Ran was feeling a bit hungry and was just about to grab a cake when Rong Jiu suddenly pushed away his hand, pouting seductively. "Let me feed you, my lord."

"..."

Rong Jiu picked up a cake and sat down on Mo Ran's lap. He wore only a thin outer robe, leaving him bare underneath. His smooth, tender thighs parted and pressed against Mo Ran's skin, rubbing suggestively—his intentions were clear.

Mo Ran gazed at Rong Jiu's face for a moment.

Rong Jiu thought that he had once again been aroused and scolded playfully, "Why do you always look at me like that? The food is getting cold."

Mo Ran fell silent for a moment, recalling the mischievous things Rong Jiu had done behind his back in his previous life. A sweet, intimate smile slowly spread across his lips.

As Heaven-Stepping Lord, he had done plenty of repulsive things; if he so desired, he could do even more. This current act was merely a pretense, a simple trick that wouldn't challenge him.

Relaxing into his chair, Mo Ran said with a smile, "Climb up here."

"I'm... I'm already sitting, aren't I?"

"You know where I mean."

Rong Jiu's face flushed, and he spat out a syllable, "So eager, Young Master doesn't want to wait until we finish... Ah!"

His words were cut short as he was forcefully pulled up and shifted forward by Mo Ran, only to be pressed back down again. Rong Jiu's hand trembled, causing the bowl of porridge to spill onto the floor. Amidst his gasp of surprise, he managed to murmur, "Young Master Mo, this bowl..."

"Leave it be."

"Well, um... you should also have something to eat first... Mmm... Ah..."

"I'm eating, aren't I?" Mo Ran held him by the waist, his dark eyes shimmering with delight as they reflected Rong Jiu's charming, upturned face.

In his previous life, he was particularly fond of stealing a tender kiss upon those rosy lips during moments of intimate entanglement. After all, this youth was beautiful, charming, and exceptionally skilled at uttering words that would stir his heart. To claim that he had never felt the slightest hint of affection would be a falsehood.

However, knowing what Rong Jiu had been whispering behind his back, Mo Ran found the other's lips utterly repulsive, and all desire to kiss them vanished.

There were many ways in which the thirty-two-year-old Mo Ran was different from the fifteen-year-old version of himself.

At fifteen, he still knew tenderness in matters of love, but by thirty-two, violence was all that remained.

After the deed, he gazed at Rong Jiu, who lay on the verge of death, unconscious. His slanted eyes, filled with hidden currents, narrowed slightly, a hint of sweet amusement tugging at the corners of his lips. When he smiled, it was captivating; his pupils were jet black and deep, taking on a luxurious shade of dark purple under certain angles. At that moment, he lifted Rong Jiu's hair with a cheerful smile, hoisting the unconscious body onto the bed. He casually picked up a shard of broken porcelain from the ground and held it inches from Rong Jiu's face.

He was always one to exact revenge, and that hadn't changed.

Recalling how he had cared for Rong Jiu's business in his past life, even considering buying him out of servitude, while Rong Jiu had plotted against him with others, he couldn't help but curve his eyes into a smile as he pressed the sharp ceramic shard against Rong Jiu's cheek.

This man relied on his appearance for his livelihood; without this face, he would have nothing.

This vulgar man would end up wandering the streets like a stray dog, crawling on the ground, kicked by boots, trampled on, cursed at, and spat upon... Ah... just thinking about it brought him immense satisfaction. It even erased the disgust he'd felt from having just taken this person.

Mo Ran's smile grew more charming.

With a slight exertion of force, a crimson streak of blood trickled out.

The dazed individual seemed to sense the pain, softly moaning through his hoarse voice. Tears still lingered on his eyelashes, making him appear pitiful.

Mo Ran's hand abruptly stilled.

He thought of an old acquaintance.

"..."

Then, he suddenly realized what he was doing. After a few seconds of stunned silence, he finally slowly let go.

He had truly grown accustomed to committing wicked deeds. He had forgotten that he had been reborn.

Now, none of those events had transpired yet. No great wrongs had been committed. That person... was still alive. There was no need for him to ruthlessly repeat the same path he had taken before. He could start anew.

He sat down, propping one leg on the bed's edge, idly toying with the fragments of porcelain in his hand. Suddenly, he noticed the greasy cake sitting on the table, so he grabbed it, peeled back the oil paper, and devoured it in large bites, filling his mouth with crumbs and leaving his lips glistening with grease.

This cake was a specialty of this teahouse, though it wasn't particularly delicious. Compared to the exquisite delicacies he would taste later, it was like chewing wax. But after this teahouse collapsed, Mo Ran had never tasted this oil spiral cake again. In this moment, the familiar flavor of the cake returned to his tongue, transcending the torrent of past events.

With each bite, Mo Ran felt the surreal sensation of rebirth fade just a little.

By the time he finished the entire cake, he gradually regained clarity from his initial bewilderment.

He was truly reborn.

All the evil in his life, all the irreversible deeds, had yet to unfold.

He hadn't killed his uncle and aunt, razed seventy-two cities, betrayed his master, taken a spouse, or...

None of them had perished.

He licked his sharp white teeth, savoring a faint thrill swelling within his chest, growing into a wild and frenzied excitement. In life, he had been a formidable figure, delving into the three forbidden arts of the human realm. He was proficient in the first two, but the last one—"Rebirth"—escaped him despite his exceptional intellect.

Unexpectedly, what he sought in vain during his lifetime had come true after death.

All the bitterness, despair, loneliness, and myriad emotions still lingered within his heart. The flames of life and death still burned bright, and the scene of an army closing in remained vivid in his mind.

Back then, he truly wanted to end it all. Everyone said he was destined for solitude, betrayed by all, and eventually, even he felt like a mere walking corpse, bored and desperately lonely.

But somehow, something had gone awry. A person as wicked as he was granted a chance to start anew after death.

Why should he destroy Rong Jiu's face for a petty, ancient grudge?

Rong Jiu was most avaricious for wealth. It would suffice to enjoy this freebie from the flesh peddler and perhaps slip away with a bit of silver as a light punishment. For now, he had no desire to bear the weight of another's life.

"Consider yourself fortunate, Rong Jiu," Mo Ran said with a grin, flicking the porcelain shard out the window with a flick of his finger.

Then, he emptied Rong Jiu's pouch of all its precious jewels, stowing them away for himself. Only then did he leisurely tidy himself up and stroll out of the marketplace.

Uncle and Aunt, Cousin Xue Meng, Master, and...

At the thought of that person, Mo Ran's gaze softened instantly.

Senior Brother, here I come to find you.

Author's Note: This story features the couple Mo Ran x Master.

There will be a white lotus Senior Brother appearing, so don't root for the wrong team~~