The Husky and His White Cat Shizun

Chapter 29: This Seat Does Not Want You to Die

That night, lying on the bed at the Summit of Life and Death, Mo Ran propped his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling and finding it impossible to fall asleep.

Past memories flashed before his eyes, culminating in fragmented images of Chu Wanning's handsome, somewhat aloof face.

In truth, Mo Ran had never been entirely clear about his feelings towards this person.

Their first encounter was beneath the blossoming trees in front of the Tower of Heaven. Dressed in flowing robes, he stood out from the other twenty elders as the only one not adorned in the summit's striking silver-blue armor.

That day, he was absorbed in studying the glove-like armor on his hand, his profile appearing both focused and gentle, like a white cat basking in golden sunlight.

From afar, Mo Ran couldn't tear his gaze away.

He felt that his initial impression of Chu Wanning had been positive.

But then came the successive cold shoulders, punishments, and strictness. That seemingly gentle white cat had sharp claws that left him wounded.

Rescued from the fiery inferno by his uncle, Mo Ran lay near death, his life hanging by a thread. He had expected a kind master at the Summit of Life and Death who would treat him with tolerance and genuine affection.

Yet, Chu Wanning seemed to ignore his efforts and pleas, instead meting out harsh punishment with the disciplinary whip at the slightest mistake, leaving his skin torn and mangled.

Later, he realized that Chu Wanning truly looked down on him from the bottom of his heart—

"Vile in character, difficult to shape."

Wasn't this how the man in snowy white robes beneath the blossoming tree had assessed him?

He had once held Chu Wanning in awe as a celestial moon, genuinely admiring and loving him. But to that frigid moon in the ninth heaven, what was Mo Ran?

An apprentice he couldn't refuse to take.

A contemptible scoundrel, despised to the core.

A ruffian who'd grown up in a tavern, tainted with the stench of degradation.

Although Mo Ran often appeared carefree and unconcerned, he gradually harbored hatred towards Chu Wanning, a hatred laced with intense resentment.

He refused to accept his fate.

Once upon a time, he had provoked Chu Wanning with growing resentment, hoping to catch that man's attention, earn his praise, and elicit his surprise.

During those days, a single compliment from Shi Mo, like "Well done," could send him soaring with joy.

Yet, if it meant Chu Wanning would deign to commend him with a "Not bad," he would have been willing to die.

But Chu Wanning never praised him.

No matter how much effort, dedication, or excellence he displayed, the aloof man would merely nod slightly before turning away, absorbed in his own thoughts.

Mo Ran was on the brink of obsession.

Heaven knew how desperately he had wanted to seize Chu Wanning's cheeks, force him to turn around, and compel him to look straight into his eyes, making him swallow back those words, "Vile character, difficult to mold."

Yet, all he could do was kneel before Chu Wanning like a defeated dog with its tail between its legs, bowing his head respectfully and saying, "This disciple will forever keep your teachings in mind."

In front of Chu Wanning, Mo Weiyu felt utterly insignificant.

Even as a "Gentleman," he remained lowly.

Finally, he understood that someone like Chu Wanning would never spare a glance for him.

Many events unfolded after that.

Mo Ran ascended to power atop the Summit of Life and Death, then rose to the pinnacle of the cultivation world, becoming an unparalleled overlord with no predecessor. Under his dark reign, all trembled, feared, and whispered his name as if it were a mosquito's buzz. Who could still recall his past stains, or his humble origins that were unworthy of mention?

From then on, there was no more Mo Weiyu in this world; only Heaven-Stepping Lord.

Heaven-Stepping Lord.

People loathed him, despised him to the core. The irredeemable Mo Weiyu, whose sins no thousand reincarnations could absolve, whose death was too insignificant for even one rebirth!

Heaven-Stepping Lord Mo Weiyu, Heaven-Stepping Lord Mo Weiyu, Heaven-Stepping Lord—

...Heaven-Stepping Lord.

But what difference did their fear make? The Summit of Life and Death still echoed with deafening cheers, while millions knelt before the Wu Mountain Palace, their heads bowed in a sea of prostrations.

"May Emperor of Heaven-Stepping live forever, blessed with boundless longevity, never to fade from this world."

He reveled in the adulation.

Until he noticed Chu Wanning's face among the crowd.

At that time, Chu Wanning had already been stripped of his cultivation and bound beneath the grand hall, reduced to a captive.

Mo Ran was determined to execute him, but he didn't want Chu Wanning to depart this world without suffering. He restrained Chu Wanning's limbs and slit the veins on his neck—just a small cut, enchanted to prevent clotting. Blood dripped out drop by drop, life seeping away bit by bit.

The sun blazed high in the sky; half a day had passed since the coronation began. Chu Wanning's blood should have run dry.

With this man gone, Mo Ran would be completely severed from his past. That was why he had deliberately arranged for Chu Wanning's execution during his ascension ceremony, bled to death before all.

Once he became the supreme ruler of the cultivation world, Chu Wanning would be nothing more than a lifeless corpse.

All that had transpired between them would dissipate like smoke.

Truly, it was perfect.

Yet, as this person was on the brink of death, why did he remain so indifferent? So strikingly aloof... His complexion was pale, but his expression was calm. He looked at Heaven-Stepping Lord with neither praise nor fear.

Only contempt, disdain, and —

Mo Ran must have lost his mind. Or perhaps it was Chu Wanning who had gone mad.

There was also a hint of pity.

Chu Wanning pitied himself, a dying man, a defeated foe! He actually pitied someone who had reached the pinnacle of power, capable of summoning wind and rain. He... he actually did... he dared to!!

A decade's worth of pent-up fury drove Mo Ran into a frenzy. He was in the Heart Crystal Palace—though it was then called the Mount Wu Temple. Amidst thousands of his followers, their fawning praises echoing, he abruptly rose from his seat, his black robe billowing as he descended the steps.

In front of everyone, he seized Chu Wanning's chin, his features contorted into a sweet yet sinister smile.

"Master, today is a glorious day for your disciple. Why are you still unhappy?"

Silence fell upon the thousands present in an instant.

Unbowed and unyielding, Chu Wanning's expression remained cold. "I have no disciple like you."

Mo Ran burst into laughter, a wild and unrestrained cackle that echoed through the golden corridors like vultures circling overhead, sending chills through the ranks.

"My Master's heart is as cold as ice," he declared with a mocking laugh. "Do I, your disciple, bring you such shame? Who taught me my cultivation technique? Who honed my martial skills? And who shaped my cruel and callous nature?! These scars from the disciplinary whippings on my body still linger — I ask you, who inflicted them upon me?!"

He wiped away his smile, his voice turning fierce and menacing, his eyes gleaming with chill.

"Chu Wanning! Does having me as a disciple sully your reputation? Am I inherently despicable, or is the filth in my blood irredeemable? Tell me, Chu Wanning, tell me — what does it mean to be 'of low character, difficult to mold'?"

His voice distorted with madness as he shouted.

"You never saw me as your disciple, never held me in any esteem! But I — but I once — truly regarded you as my master, respected you, loved you. Is this how you repay me? Why would you never praise me, why did I never receive even a fraction of your approval, no matter what I did?!"

Chu Wanning trembled, his complexion gradually paling.

His phoenix eyes widened slightly as he gazed at Mo Ran, his lips moving as if he wanted to say something, yet ultimately, he remained silent.

Amidst the changed landscape of the Peak of Life and Death, the only two still standing in their old haunt faced each other in an awkward silence.

In this uncomfortable quiet, Mo Ran seemed to regain his composure. He closed his eyes briefly before reopening them, revealing that detestable grin once more. His chuckling laughter sent shivers down one's spine.

He spoke gently and affably. "Master, aren't you supposed to look down on me, think me beneath you?"

Pausing for a moment, his gaze swept over the thousands of prostrating individuals, all kneeling before him like dogs at the entrance of his palace, acknowledging him as the paramount ruler of the cultivation world, towering above the mundane world's tumultuous sea of humanity.

Mo Ran smiled. "What about now? Before you die, I'll ask you one more time. In this world, who is truly base, and who is revered? Who has been stepped upon, and who reigns supreme as the victor? Who is the conquered?"

With his eyes lowered, Chu Wanning seemed to be lost in thought, still absorbed by Mo Ran's recent confession. It was only when Mo Ran gently pinched his chin that he was compelled to lift his face.

Yet, just as he was forcing Mo Ran to look at him, the latter suddenly froze.

For the first time, he saw a look of profound regret and sorrow on Chu Wanning's face.

The expression was so unfamiliar that Mo Ran felt as if he had been burned, causing him to instinctively release the fingers pinching Chu Wanning's face.

"You..."

Chu Wanning looked anguished, as if enduring a piercing and excruciating pain that tore at his heart and soul.

His voice was barely audible, almost hoarse.

Carried by the wind, only Mo Ran heard it.

He said, "I'm sorry, Mo Ran. It was this Master's fault..."

In that instant, all sounds around them vanished—wind, rustling leaves, the swish of clothing—drowned in silence.

Only Chu Wanning's face, gazing up at him, remained the sole clarity amidst the heavens and earth. It was the only sight he could behold.

At that moment, he should have been flooded with many thoughts—joy, triumph, ecstatic delight.

But it wasn't so.

His thoughts were odd. Surprisingly, there was but one that lingered—

He had, at some point, surpassed Chu Wanning by such a vast margin.

Indeed, time had passed by too long.

Many past events had transformed.

Mo Ran's lips quivered, and he muttered, "You... What did you say?"

Chu Wanning, however, smiled – a smile familiar yet foreign to Mo Ran. In those phoenix eyes, he saw his own distorted reflection.

Then, those eyes slowly closed as Chu Wanning fell backward – Mo Ran caught him by the shoulders almost instantaneously. He howled in furious desperation, like a wild beast on the brink of collapse.

"Chu Wanning! What did you say, Chu Wanning? Say it again!!"

The person in his arms didn't respond. His lips were as pale as magnolias, and his handsome face, usually cold, now froze into a somewhat sorrowful smile, the corners of his mouth curling up slightly, reminiscent of the expression Mo Ran had first seen when they met at the Tower of Heaven.

A gentle smile, somewhat tender.

"Chu Wanning!!"

That tenderness shattered like fallen cherry blossoms.

He had finally achieved his desire, stepping on his master's life to reach the pinnacle of humanity.

But what was this? What was this??

The bitterness and resentment in his chest only grew. What was this supposed to be??

Mo Ran summoned the faint wisps of black mist into his palm, his fingers dancing with agility as he deftly touched upon several of Chu Wanning's meridians, effectively sealing off the last vestige of his heart's vital energy.

"Do you want to die just like that?" Mo Ran's eyes bulged with fury, his features twisted in a grotesque manner. "It's not over, Chu Wanning! Our scores aren't settled yet! It's not over! Until you clarify everything for me—I'll crush Xue Meng, I'll destroy the Treading Snow Palace of Kunlun, and all the few people left you still care about! I'll tear them to shreds! Think it through, Wanning!"

The ceremony came to an abrupt halt, and the thousands of devotees kneeling nearby no longer mattered to him.

He changed his mind. He didn't want Chu Wanning to die.

He despised him, yet he yearned for Chu Wanning to live — to live on...

He scooped up the blood-loss-ridden man in his arms and, with a display of light footwork, leapt onto the sharply peaked rooftop. His robe fluttered like an eagle's wings, his figure darting swiftly across the rooftops, heading straight for the South Peak—straight for the Red Lotus Water Pavilion, the place where Chu Wanning once resided.

That area was rich in spiritual energy, abundant with immortal herbs. He had to save Chu Wanning.

One could only hate when alive; if one were dead, there would be no reason to hate at all. Had he truly gone mad before contemplating killing Chu Wanning with his own hands?

If Chu Wanning were to die, what would he have left in this world...

Lying in bed, he would be left to lick the wounds of his memories alone.

In the stillness of the night, with dew heavy, there was no hope for further slumber.

Mo Ran decided to get up, wash his face, dress, and carry a lantern as he made his way towards the Yama's Hall.

Chu Wanning must have simply bandaged himself hastily before going there to kneel in penance. Mo Ran knew this man well – stubborn and stinky, inflexible to a fault. He would never consider whether his body could withstand it. Even if Xue Meng had tried to stop him, he wouldn't have budged.

Sure enough, outside the Yama's Hall, he saw a solitary green lamp burning forlornly inside, its wax tears continuously falling.

Chu Wanning knelt with his back to the entrance, his figure straight as a pine in a gale.

Seeing this silhouette, Mo Ran regretted his actions. What was he doing in the middle of the night? Coming to find Chu Wanning? Had he lost his mind?

But now that he was here, turning around and leaving seemed foolish.

After some thought, he found a compromise. He placed the lantern gently at his feet, neither leaving nor entering, standing by the window instead. Leaning on the window sill with his elbows, he propped his cheek in his hand, watching Chu Wanning from afar.

The copper bells on the eaves swayed gently, and the air was perfumed with the scent of flowers and grass.

One stood, one knelt, separated by the crimson lattice window and the empty, quiet hall.

If it were before his rebirth, Mo Ran would have had every right to barge into the hall, demanding that Chu Wanning end his self-reflection and return to rest.

If Chu Wanning refused, he would have had the strength to seal off Chu Wanning's limbs and forcefully carry him away.

But now, he had neither the standing nor the capability.

He was even shorter than Chu Wanning.

Mo Ran's emotions were conflicted as he gazed at the figure inside from outside the window. Unnoticed, he couldn't make out Chu Wanning's features, just as Chu Wanning couldn't see his face.

Thus, the white kitten knelt all night without turning back.

And the foolish dog stood guard all through the night, never straying far.

Author's Note:

Let me share a bedtime animal sketch for today~

Once upon a time, there was a little puppy who was both dirty and slow-witted, so no one cared for him, leaving him to wander aimlessly.

One day, the little puppy was found by its uncle and carried back to the den. The new den was warm and spacious, and the puppy was delighted, especially when it saw the large white cat sleeping soundly on a soft cushion, looking so gentle. The puppy let out a joyous howl and nestled into the white cat's fur.

However, the awakened white cat was not as imagined. It always gazed at the puppy coldly, ignoring its whining attempts to charm. When annoyed, it would even forget to retract its claws before swatting at the puppy's face.

As time passed, the puppy grew into a big dog, while the white cat appeared smaller in its presence.

The grown dog wanted to teach the white cat a lesson. So, it clamped its jaws around the small cat's throat and then proudly stepped on the snowy-white creature with its paws.

Assuming it was dealing with a hard, stony creature, the dog was surprised to find the white cat's body unexpectedly soft. This reminded him of that first night in the new den, when he had fallen asleep nestled in the warmth of the cat's fur.

But he would never know that, on that very night, the white cat had opened its luminous, glass-like eyes.

Where did this little thing come from? So dirty...

The white cat thought to itself, using its prickly pink tongue to silently clean the puppy's fur.

The puppy, with its fur licked, let out a contented snore and half-opened its eyes, thinking it was all a dream. In the dream, its wandering had finally ended, and there was a big cat that treated it with incredible kindness.