The Husky and His White Cat Shizun

Chapter 278: The Peak of Life and Death Never Betrayed You

These days, both the Upper and Lower cultivation realms were abuzz with one piece of news: The Heavenly Sound Pavilion's execution grounds, which had stood for thousands of years, had been raided for the first time. And the one who had carried out the daring rescue was none other than the world's greatest master, Chu Wanning. He had killed eleven of the Pavilion's elite guards, injured a hundred more, and taken the convicted criminal Mo Weiyu away.

Some said Chu Wanning had gone mad, while others claimed he was no different from Mo Weiyu—a beast in human clothing. Then there were those who had witnessed the event up close, and they angrily declared that there was something amiss between Chu Wanning and Mo Ran; their relationship was suspicious and sordid.

But regardless of the rumors swirling outside, neither Chu Wanning nor Mo Weiyu reappeared in the world. Nobody knew where they were.

The world's most righteous master had taken away the most dangerous devil.

And then, they vanished without a trace.

Half-open wooden windows allowed a gentle snowfall to drift in, like powdered sugar. Outside the curtains, new moss was a vivid green, and a few scattered petals lay on the ground.

Four days had passed since the upheaval at the Heavenly Sound Pavilion. Chaos reigned everywhere else, with all sorts of opinions being expressed. Only in this secluded mountain did a modicum of tranquility prevail.

Suddenly, a figure emerged from the depths of the silent forest, stepping into the colorful ink painting framed by the windows. He held a broad oiled paper umbrella and carried a bundle of firewood, pushing open the door to enter. The room was cold, so he piled the wood beside the hearth and added some kindling to stoke the dying embers back to life.

This place had been neglected for a long time, and though it had been tidied up, the air still held a musty scent. To counteract this, he had deliberately picked a branch of dew-covered white plum blossoms from outside and placed it by the bedside.

Chu Wanning sat down, gazing at the man lying on the narrow bed.

It was the fourth day, and he still hadn't awakened.

Since that fateful escape from Heaven-Stepping Lord, he had used the magical techniques he had learned in his previous life along with the undiminished spiritual energy of this lifetime to barely keep Mo Ran's life force going. But after so long, Mo Ran remained deeply unconscious, his life hanging by a thread, and his spirit core could no longer be restored.

"This house was built by my master when he was traveling years ago. It's been empty for too long, so it has a certain smell," Chu Wanning said, his gaze fixed on Mo Ran's face with intensity. "I know you don't like incense, but you don't dislike flowers. I brought a branch of winter plum; it should bloom for quite some time."

Mo Ran lay there, his eyelashes drooping.

Sleeping, he looked peaceful and serene, a rare tranquility in his life.

These past few days, Mo Ran had slept quietly like this. After finishing his tasks, Chu Wanning would stay by his side, talking to him.

Back when they used to spend time together, it was always Mo Ran doing all the talking, while he listened.

Never did he expect that one day their roles would reverse.

"The barriers outside have been reinforced, and banning spells have been cast. No one will find us here," Chu Wanning said. "I've brought back firewood and food, so we won't have any immediate concerns."

Pausing, he sighed and said, "You, why won't you wake up?"

As he spoke, he reached out to stroke Mo Ran's hair.

The reed fire flickered. He sat by the bed for a long while longer, waiting until the shadows on the ground had shifted with the sun's movement, but still, the person did not open their eyes.

Chu Wanning lowered his eyelids and softly sighed.

"Since you still want to sleep, then sleep... I'll continue telling you the story from yesterday."

"I'm sorry, you said you like listening to bedtime stories, but I don't know how to tell them... So, all I can do is recount the things we've experienced together." Lowering his lashes in silence for a moment, he spoke in a gentle voice, "Hmm... Where did I leave off yesterday?... Let me think. Right, I was talking about discovering the curse in your previous life and wanting to lift it for you."

Chu Wanning continued, "But the Eight Sufferings of Enduring Hate were too deeply rooted, and there was nothing I could do. In this life, I finally managed to remove it, but I never imagined it would turn out like this."

He touched Mo Ran's icy-cold hand.

It was always so cold.

He held Mo Ran's hand like that, softly speaking to him about various things.

Once upon a time, because of intrigue and their contrasting personalities, they had never openly discussed many things between them. As a result, they ended up on divergent paths, their relationship irreparably severed.

Chu Wanning deeply regretted it.

What if they had been more honest with each other? Would everything have turned out differently? Would he have discovered sooner that Mo Ran was plagued by a poisonous curse?

Could they still turn back?

"You've lived a second life, always seeking redemption," Chu Wanning closed his eyes, sighing. His voice turned brittle, barely audible. "Do you remember how you fell victim to the Eight Pains of Longing Hate? Think about it... Mo Ran, think about it..."

You never owed me anything.

From the very beginning, it was I who owed you.

Please, wake up.

If you can regain consciousness, if you can recall those lost memories, you'll realize... the truth behind it all began seven years ago, on that rainy night when I went into seclusion.

—

That was the turning point in his destiny with Mo Ran. It was a day that he had once deemed insignificant in his life. On that day, the Red Lotus Water Pavilion swayed amidst tempestuous winds and rain. Rainwater rushed down the roof tiles, thunder boomed, and lightning flashed, but he couldn't hear a thing.

Chu Wanning's spirit core was fragile, and it happened to be the time when it needed repair.

To reassure his disciple who served by his side, he cast the Mute Spell on himself before entering seclusion. Then, he sat calmly in the pavilion, his consciousness diving into the void.

Thus, he missed the tension that unfolded before his eyes.

On that very day, right in front of him, within the howling winds, thunder, and the Red Lotus Water Pavilion, Mo Ran stood face to face with Shi Mo. Mo Ran's complexion was pale, while Shi Mo's expression was sinister.

A truth unknown to Chu Wanning previously unraveled slowly under the nocturnal rain.

During that seclusion, Mo Ran, who had recently become his disciple, felt wronged over the "picking flowers" incident and declared that he would not serve his master well or accompany him.

But could one take a young man's rash words seriously?

After two sleepless nights, Mo Ran still chose to remember kindness over grudges. He suppressed his distress and went to the Red Lotus Water Pavilion alone, intending to substitute for Shi Mo.

Little did he expect that this twist of fate would lead him to stumble upon a conspiracy that would alter his life forever.

Shi Mo was casting a spell on Chu Wanning.

Confusion, shock, fear, anger, and despair engulfed him, searing through his organs in an instant.

He rushed forward, snatching the sharp blade from Shi Mo's hand with a fierce growl, "What are you doing?!"

Shi Mingjing was momentarily startled, but then his gentle and beautiful peach blossom eyes narrowed delicately.

He smiled, "I wondered who it could be. Now that the Red Lotus Water Pavilion is heavily guarded, only three disciples and the sect leader of Death's Peak can enter. It would have been troublesome, whether it was the young master or the lord, but fortunately, it's you."

Mo Ran had run hastily and was now panting, his slender body blocking Chu Wanning. The night wind played with his clothing and stray hairs.

He fixed his gaze intently on Shi Mo's face.

"What do you plan to do while Master is in seclusion? You... you..." At that time, Mo Ran couldn't even fathom that the soft-spoken Mingjing Senior Brother could have a second, terrifying devilish face, "Who exactly are you?!"

Shi Mo laughed, "Ah Ran is so adorable. Of course, I'm your Mingjing Senior Brother. Who else could I be?"

He observed Mo Ran protecting Chu Wanning.

A newly initiated disciple, so insignificant and overambitious.

Like a poorly conceived joke.

"Didn't you say that you despised your Master and never wanted to see him again?"

With an air of confidence, Shi Mo teased him, mocking his words.

"When I brought you those wontons, you told me how much you hated your ruthless Master. How is it that just a couple of days later, you've changed your mind and come looking for him?"

"If I hadn't found him, who knows what you would have done today!" Mo Ran was both furious and sorrowful. "Shi Mingjing, how could I have been so blind to think well of you back then, to trust you!"

"Oh, if you're that easily swayed, who can you blame but yourself?" Shi Mo chuckled. "A bowl of wontons and some kind words were enough to win you over completely. In reality, you're just a stray dog—anyone who tosses you a bone will earn your loyalty."

"..."

"Why glare at me like that? Weren't the wontons delicious?"

Mo Ran's teeth chattered in the cold night. His dark eyes appeared moist and cold as he swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing. "Shi Mingjing... Your heart is truly black."

Shi Mo still smiled. "That black color signifies a heart bewitched, a diseased heart. My heart is free of ailments and pain, so naturally, it's just as red as yours is now, and just as your Master's is."

He paused, then delicately twirled his slender, fair fingers. A vibrant flower materialized at the tip of his finger, its petals tightly closed and shimmering with silver along their edges.

Holding the flower close to his nose, Shi Mo breathed in its scent.

A beautiful bloom and an enchanting man, a captivating yet perilous sight.

It sent shivers down one's spine.

Mo Ran muttered, "What exactly are you planning to do..."

Lifting his eyelids, Shi Mo revealed his long lashes and a pair of limpid, peach blossom eyes, filled with mirth. He seemed in high spirits. "Explaining to you would be futile anyway. Once I cast a spell, you'll quickly forget everything that happened tonight, and recall nothing."

The black flower rested on his delicate fingertips like a water bamboo shoot.

"But considering we're fellow disciples, I suppose I could tell you," Shi Mo continued. "This is a bud cultivated by my mother, a flower I painstakingly nurtured—the Eight Sorrows, Enduring Hate. If no one appreciates it, it will vanish from this world, and that would be rather unsatisfying, don't you think?"

"Eight Sorrows... Enduring Hate?"

"Junior Brother, life is plagued with eight sufferings, and death leaves a lasting regret. There exists a flower seed left behind by demonic beings that is incredibly difficult for mortals to cultivate. It's called the Eight Sufferings, Enduring Hate," Shi Mo spoke in a gentle tone. "This flower, in its youth, feeds on human blood. Once it blooms, it must take root in a person's heart, absorbing their kindness and warmth to nurture malice and hatred."

As he spoke, he stroked the black petals affectionately.

"In this world, no matter how virtuous someone may be, as long as they harbor the slightest resentment, the Eight Sufferings, Enduring Hate can cultivate within them, gradually turning them into an unblinking monster."

His eyes shimmered with an eerie, serpentine gleam.

His almond-shaped eyes swiveled, fixing onto Chu Wanning, who was meditating with an otherworldly aura.

Mo Ran's hair stood on end. "You want to plant the Enduring Hate Flower in Master's heart?!!"

"Why be so surprised?" Shi Mo smiled. "He's the greatest master in the world. Imagine if he were to turn into a demon; how immense would his power be?"

"You're insane?! How could you... How could you bear to..."

"He's cold-blooded and indifferent to human feelings, didn't you say so?" Shi Mo said nonchalantly. "I'll turn him into the person you despise the most, Junior Brother. Then you can hate him without guilt, wouldn't that be perfect?"

Mo Ran's scalp felt like it was about to burst, and his spine tingled with fear.

"You... Preposterous... That was just my momentary anger. I, I don't hate him. Please put him down, don't hurt him like this..."

Shi Mo inquired with curiosity, "Why?"

Why?

He was so kind-hearted. The tables in the Red Lotus Water Pavilion were filled with his drawings, designs for mechas and weapons, not for himself, but out of concern for others' safety and well-being.

He was pure and innocent, like the first snowfall of early winter.

Although strict and sometimes distant, he would hold his hand time and again, teaching him to read and write.

He would accompany him in practicing martial arts through the long days and nights.

He was willing to take him in, ending Mo Weiyu's solitude and leaving behind false kinship and happiness.

From then on, he had a genuine identity.

—As Chu Wanning's disciple.

"You can't harm him..." Mo Ran said anxiously, trying to rouse his master, but not knowing how. He stubbornly stood before Chu Wanning. "He can't become an evil spirit. He's so kind. If you make him kill... he'll be devastated."

The intense sorrow and rage within him was indescribable, leaving him with only the simplest, most sincere, and disjointed sentences to plead desperately.

It was as if he hadn't mastered any spells yet and could only rely on his frail body to shield others.

Forcing a good person to kill was excruciating.

He had felt it deeply in the flames of the Drunken Jade Tower.

Shi Mo looked at him, finding the situation utterly amusing.

"Sad? When he becomes that kind of person, he won't be sad anymore. Ah Ran, there's no need for you to worry about this."

"But why are you doing this?! Why do you have to hurt him?!"

This time, Shi Mo didn't answer right away. He lowered his eyelashes, pausing for a moment before replying calmly, "Because I have things I must do too."

"..."

"I need the strongest power at my disposal," Shi Mo pursed his lips. "You wouldn't understand."

Almost exhausting his meager strength, the young Mo Ran tried to persuade this enigmatic senior apprentice brother before him.

"You can't be unaware of what kind of person Shifu is. Even if... even if you were to grind away all his kindness until he becomes a murderous demon, he still wouldn't obey you or be used by you—you... you can't do that."

"How do you know I can't?" Shi Mo chuckled softly. "Oh, I forgot to mention, half of my fragmented soul is now fused within this Eight Sorrows Long Hate Flower. As long as it blooms in his heart, he will gradually come to love me, for all eternity, with no way to break free."

Mo Ran's blood ran cold. "You're utterly insane!!"

Undaunted, Shi Mo approached them leisurely. The night sky was illuminated by flashes of lightning and rolling thunder, casting a glow on Shi Mo's breathtaking face.

"Just as you said, he's so good. To have him at my service, to make him mine—why can't that be possible? Even if he turns into a devil, what of it? Then he would only listen to me and be hopelessly devoted—wouldn't that be perfect?"

He knew that Chu Wanning wouldn't wake up at this moment, nor could he hear their conversation. So Shi Mo spoke fearlessly and calmly, "Junior Apprentice Brother, step aside. Do you really think someone who has just formed an embryonic spirit nucleus can stand against me?"

Mo Ran gritted his teeth. "I won't move."

Shi Mo merely smiled. In the blink of an eye, he had ghosted behind Mo Ran, his hand already hovering above Chu Wanning's hairpin, holding the black flower that was about to bloom.

"Aran, do you have any idea how much effort and dedication I've poured into cultivating this Eight Sorrows Long Hate? I've waited patiently for this day, when Master would retreat into seclusion."

He leaned in, his cheek almost touching the side of Chu Wanning's face.

"He will become my weapon, my puppet, mine to command. What can you possibly stop?"

The flower falls.

Fates are about to change.

Suddenly, the youth's sharp voice rang out, forcefully attempting to hinder the proceedings.

"Hands off him!"

"You truly are amusing," Shi Mo's patience waned. "Do you know…"

"Let me take your place."

The rest of his words were left hanging between his lips, as a thunderous roar echoed across the heavens, breaking through the silence. A bolt of fiery lightning slashed through the night, tearing apart the darkness.

Shi Mo narrowed his eyes and asked, "What?"

Mo Ran's entire body trembled.

He had only been in the sect for such a short time and had learned pitifully few spells. He was destined to be unable to stop Shi Mo, nor did he know how to awaken Chu Wanning.

He was unarmed and unskilled.

All he had was flesh and blood.

So all he could say was, "Let me take his place."

There was a moment of silence before Shi Mo chuckled. "Do you know what you're saying?"

"I do."

"The Eight Sorrows Long Hate Flower was nurtured by my mother with all her heart and soul, shattered pieces of my very spirit. Who are you to think you deserve it?" Shi Mo straightened up, staring at Mo Ran's face. "What makes you worthy?"

"I..." Clenching his fingers into a fist, he lifted his face after a long moment. "I may not be worthy, but I am far more suitable than Master."

A flicker of light danced in Shi Mo's eyes. "…How so?"

"You said this flower fosters hatred within a person. But what if that person's heart is utterly pure, holding no grudges at all?"

Shi Mo fell silent for a moment before he chuckled. "Impossible. Everyone carries resentment within them, even the Venerated Immortal of the Northern Dipper would be no exception."

Yet, his hand caressed the Long Hate Flower's petals, gradually stirring a restless agitation.

Mo Ran was right. In truth, he had been pondering over the years if Chu Wanning could serve as a nurturing ground for the Long Hate Flower—what if this person never harbored a single hint of resentment in their heart?

Cultivating another flower would require time and effort, not to mention how excruciating soul fragmentation was. He didn't wish to experience it again.

Seeing his hesitation, Mo Ran stepped closer. "After all these years, have you ever seen our Master hate anyone?"

"…"

"You said the Long Hate Flower devours kindness and warmth… While these may not encompass everything for ordinary people, you should understand Master better than I do."

The rain grew heavier, casting a desolate atmosphere upon the withered forest.

"Shi Mingjing, aren't you afraid that he'll gradually lose all his memories, forgetting everything good? Aren't you afraid that someone might notice something amiss?"

Shi Mo's eyes narrowed abruptly.

His irises were dark and mysterious, like a snake's tongue flickering in the shadows.

Mo Ran stepped closer, his heart pounding like a drum, a chaotic rhythm more urgent than the rain.

"I don't know what you're planning to do, but if you insist on a sacrifice, take me instead."

"You..."

"Hatred resides in my heart, capable of growing. I don't have many pure and good memories. Even as they gradually fade away, they are not easily noticed by others."

Mo Ran was desperately trying to persuade the executioner to turn the blade and rest it against his own neck instead.

"I may not be capable of anything yet, but both my Master and Uncle have praised my exceptional talent and abundant spiritual energy... I can do it."

He trembled delicately, his nails digging into his palms, yet he persisted in speaking.

"I can take his place and become the blade and weapon you desire."

"I can replace him and become the murderous demon you wish to create."

"Shi Mo," he finally stood before Shi Mingjing, lightning flashing and winds howling, tilting the rain curtain and sweeping into the pavilion.

Wave upon wave of chilliness.

"Take me instead."

Perhaps it was because he struck a chord, or maybe Shi Mo had never been certain if Chu Wanning could activate the Eight Sufferings Long Hate Flower. Or perhaps it was due to Mo Ran's unprecedented display of spiritual power back then; he condensed his spirit core even faster than the prodigious genius Xue Meng, making others envious.

In any case, after careful consideration, Shi Mo eventually chose to plant that black bud about to bloom deep within Mo Ran's heart.

After doing all this, Shi Mo sat by the stone table, propping his chin in his hand, his gaze slightly distant.

He didn't understand why this was happening.

Why did Mo Ran shield Chu Wanning from this fated calamity? With his life, soul, future, and dignity?

They were, after all, barely a year into their master-apprentice relationship.

He couldn't comprehend it.

As Shi Mo watched the black pistil meld into Mo Ran's chest, it was as if those delicate petals were made of steel needles piercing through flesh and blood, reaching deep within.

Throughout the process, Mo Ran endured in silence, until the pistil, resembling some bizarre tentacled creature, burrowed forcefully into his heart. Only then did Mo Ran emit a choked sob, collapsing to his knees on the ground.

The young man trembled before him, while Shi Mo sat calmly, her jade-like arms radiating an ethereal glow. From her lofty position, she observed Mo Ran convulse and spit out blood right before her eyes.

"Does it hurt a lot?"

"Cough...cough..."

With a keen interest, Shi Mo's gaze remained gentle as he asked, "How much does it hurt? I've never cast this kind of spell on anyone before. I'm genuinely curious...my dear junior brother, what is it like to have your heart pierced by the Long Hate Flower?"

His eyes were like rippling spring water, flowing over Mo Ran's prone body segment by segment, eventually resting on Mo Ran's pale knuckles.

Unconsciously, Mo Ran's fingers clawed at the ground, their tips worn and bleeding, leaving trails of blood behind.

"More painful than having one's heart ripped out?"

Mo Ran didn't reply.

The pain was real, but... it was far better than the agony he had endured on that burial ground outside Lin Yi City years ago.

It was much better than watching his dearest family member die right before his eyes.

And it was far better than digging through dirt and sand to bury their remains himself.

"At first... I failed to protect Mother. Now, I can finally... protect my Master."

His gaze grew distant as he muttered these words to himself.

His fondest memories were fading bit by bit, those pure and untainted moments slipping away. Images of the scarce joys flashed before him—

A bowl of warm soup given to him and his mother by a kind soul in some year.

An old farmer who once invited them into his house on a snowy night, offering warmth by the fire.

A fellow beggar, they once shared half a scavenged meat pie.

Duan Yihan held his hand, guiding him through the autumn dam with dragonflies fluttering around...

No hate, no bitterness, no resentment, no anxiety, no hostility.

Everything was serene.

It was the purest form of beauty.

He saw himself meticulously embroidering a peony handkerchief under the lamp, sitting with his cheek in hand by the stone table, watching his Master enjoy mooncakes with a smile. He saw himself sharing wine under the moon, presenting his Master with pear blossom white for the first time.

These memories would now fade away.

He would never recall them again...

Henceforth, hatred would take root, and the gentle past in his recollections would transform.

From this moment on, the passionate fire within his heart would dwindle, leaving no embers. The spring water in his eyes would freeze, turning into icy coldness.

From this moment on, he would be defying his mother's last wish.

Duan Yihan said, "Repay kindness, not grudges."

It was no longer possible.

Summoning an unknown strength, he gritted his teeth and endured the excruciating pain that felt as if his organs were being torn apart. He struggled to stand up, swaying unsteadily. When he couldn't maintain his balance, he knelt and crawled, until his very soul trembled from the torment. Yet, he persisted, crawling all the way to Chu Wanning.

"Master..."

He struggled in a quivering and comical manner, wriggling about.

Shi Mo had initially assumed he intended something else, but in the end, he discovered that the young man was merely exerting his utmost, pouring the last of his fervor and gratitude into a solemn prostration, as he fell to the ground—

Tears welled up.

"Master, I will soon... disappoint you..."

Night rain drifts down, casting a melancholic serenade upon the stillness.

"I will soon forget your kindness, and I can no longer... properly learn magic from you... You'll despise me, loathe me..."

He wept, uttering his final farewell in the fleeting moments of his conscience.

But Chu Wanning couldn't hear him.

He was right there, yet he heard nothing.

"I'm sorry, I picked those flowers because I wanted to give them to you. Master, I came today... planning to apologize when you woke up, to tell you everything that's been on my mind."

His voice was hoarse, as if it had been torn from his throat with flesh and blood.

"Master, thank you for not rejecting me, for willing to take me in..."

"I truly am, truly am..."

His heart abruptly clenched, and his eyes filled with a bloody hue. It was a sign of the Eight Pains Long Hate Flower beginning to take root, and also an indication that the Love Spell was taking effect.

His forehead struck the ground with a thud, heavily pressing against the earth.

Sobbing uncontrollably.

"I truly, very much like you."

Shi Mo let out a soft sigh, his expression a mix of amusement and pity.

But whether it was his pity or amusement, they were both faint, not reaching the depths of his heart.

In the end, he approached and gently pinched Mo Ran's cheeks, gazing into the gradually blurred eyes and softly asked, "Come, junior apprentice brother, tell me, what is it that you seek now?"

"The Desire..."

What desire lies within?

Amidst Lin Yi's autumn hues, before the Tower of Heaven.

Duan Yihan smiled while Chu Wanning cast his eyes down.

Sister Xun Fengruo from the music pavilion revealed her sharp canines, her eyes shimmering with eager and excited light as she told him, "Ah Ran, I'll soon earn enough to buy my freedom. I'll take you with me, we'll leave this place behind. Sister will lead us to a better life."

In his daze, Mo Ran still desperately clung to those fleeting memories, as if they were reeds scattering away.

He murmured, "The repayment I seek... is not for the sake of... revenge."

Shi Mo shook his head and waited a moment longer.

He asked again, "What do you seek?"

Mo Ran's voice was rough and persistent, "I seek... to one day die at the hands of my Master."

Shi Mo was taken aback for a moment before he burst into laughter, "Die at the hands of your Master?"

"I don't want to become a devil... I don't want to go to hell..." He rambled, repeating himself, "I don't want to only remember hate, Master..."

He somehow broke free from Shi Mo's grasp and prostrated himself before Chu Wanning, almost wailing. His eyes were now bloodshot, and his consciousness grew increasingly chaotic.

"Kill me."

In the end, the only wish that remained was this one.

"On the very first day I committed evil... please, just kill me."

The torrential rain devoured the adolescent's muffled sobs, echoing like a trapped beast in the pitch-black night. Thunder rumbled and lightning flashed, casting a haunting shadow over the withering bamboo grove. All the lotus flowers in the Red Lotus Water Pavilion wilted overnight, plummeting into the pond.

Life brings eight sufferings, death leaves eternal regret.

Before consciousness faded, Mo Ran reached out with trembling hands, seizing the corner of Chu Wanning's robe. He lifted his head and murmured, "Master... please... pay attention to me... just acknowledge me... would you...?"

Pay attention to me.

How many sorrows and regrets in this world have been concealed by the turbulent storms?

After two lifetimes, Chu Wanning, who had finally uncovered the truth, vaguely recalled that the following day, he completed his meditation and awakened from his contemplation.

Golden rays of light bathed the bamboo pavilion. The peonies and red lotuses in the waterside lodge had shed their last petals, and the erstwhile fragrant blossoms would soon be crushed into the soil.

The rain had ceased. Blinking, Chu Wanning turned his head to see Shi Mo brewing tea beside a stone table. Wisps of steam rose gently, framing Shi Mo's gentle and exquisite features. Upon noticing that Chu Wanning was awake, Shi Mo smiled.

"Master."

"Why haven't you rested yet? You've been guarding for three days straight. Go relieve Mo Ran."

The teacup was filled, the amber-colored hot water like a brimming heartache.

Shi Mo served him tea with a smile. "Let me continue watching over Master today. Ah Ran has a childlike temperament; he can't get over being scolded by you."

Chu Wanning was taken aback. "He's not coming?"

Shi Mo lowered his eyelashes, their dense and soft fringe brushing down like two clusters of tender buds on a branch in early spring. He hummed in response, "He's not coming. He went to the Book Collection Pavilion to help the Lord sort through books."

For a fleeting moment, Chu Wanning was lost in thought and felt a sense of longing.

He had originally planned to use this opportunity of being alone with Mo Ran to talk about the matter of picking flowers. That day, he had been too strict...

He had never encountered a disciple breaking the rules before, and after reflecting on it, he felt that the punishment had been too severe.

But Mo Ran didn't even want to see him, choosing not to accompany him during seclusion.

Chu Wanning closed his eyes.

"Master, please have some tea."

For a long while, he replied and accepted the steaming cup of tea from Shi Mo's slender, fair hand, blowing away the wisps of mist before taking a sip.

The tea was too full, causing a few drops to spill onto his robe.

Shi Mo, meticulous as always, noticed and smiled. "I have a handkerchief."

"There's no need to use yours," Chu Wanning said, retrieving a white handkerchief embroidered with peony blossoms. He bent down to wipe away the damp tea stains.

"What a beautiful handkerchief, it seems to be the finest one available in town," Shi Mo said gently. "Did Master buy it yourself?"

For a fleeting moment, Chu Wanning wanted to say that no, it was a gift from Mo Ran.

He had sewn it.

As a tribute for accepting him as a disciple.

But he wasn't in the mood to share, and he felt a strange sense of shame about mentioning it.

For a moment, Chu Wanning fell into a pensive silence before softly acknowledging with a muted "Mm," neatly folding the handkerchief and slipping it back into his sleeve.

After tucking away the handkerchief, he let out a gentle sigh.

That day, the sun shone brightly, casting aside the melancholic winds and rains of the previous night, leaving only fallen petals adorning the railings and dew-kissed lotus leaves.

"Was the rain very heavy last night?"

As Shi Mo attended to the tea set, his fingers paused at the mention, his eyes darkening in inquiry. "Mm?"

Chu Wanning cast his gaze upon the blooming flowers in the pond, uttering nonchalantly, "All the flowers have withered away."

Shi Mo smiled again, setting down the teacup meticulously. He then spoke casually, "There was a thunderstorm last night, it raged for a while before subsiding. Today will be a fine day. Once the ground dries up a bit, I'll go and sweep away the fallen petals in the courtyard."

Chu Wanning remained silent.

The sky was painted with brilliant hues of dawn, like a vivid tapestry. Looking further into the distance, the vast expanse of the sky was pristine, and as the sun rose in the east, golden feathers seemed to flutter in the air.

Indeed.

It was a rare and glorious sunny day.