The Husky and His White Cat Shizun

Chapter 32: Will It Be Better If This Seat Coddles You?

Amidst the layers of lotus leaves, Mo Ran was struck as if by lightning, standing frozen in utter astonishment. His heart, a jumbled mix of emotions, shattered completely, his face contorted with strain.

Shock, anger, jealousy, irritability, and an explosion like fireworks burst within him. He moved his lips but could not utter a single word from sheer fury. He was not aware of what he was angry about; his mind was fixated on one thought:

How dare you touch someone this seat has lain with?

You debauched hypocrite, Chu Wanning! You actually... actually...

He failed to grasp the reality that the Chu Wanning of this lifetime had no romantic or lustful ties with him. In that instant, his mind snapped.

After all, it had been more than a decade, a whole life, from birth to death.

When he was lucid, he could maintain composure with ease. But in the heat of passion, chaos erupted, revealing his true nature. He instinctively believed that Chu Wanning belonged to him. Only now did he keenly realize how vividly he remembered the taste of Chu Wanning's lips... let alone those soul-searing entanglements of love and desire, those passionate unions.

These were things he dared not dwell on since his rebirth.

Not until he saw Chu Wanning's bare back did the familiar figure register – broad shoulders, long legs, toned muscles, and a slender yet strong waist submerged in crystal-clear water.

In an instant, those intimate moments he had deliberately avoided and tried to forget broke through their seal and flooded his mind.

Mo Ran's scalp prickled with sensation.

... He was reacting to this body.

It was a fierce, uncontrollable response; just the sight of it set his lower abdomen aflame.

By the time he snapped out of it, he had already angrily called out, "Chu Wanning!"

Surprisingly, Chu Wanning ignored him.

The two figures, one on each side, held his shoulders. The mist rising from the lotus pond obscured their features, but they were standing alarmingly close, their proximity charged with tension.

Mo Ran cursed inwardly and, without hesitation, plunged into the lotus pond, wading towards Chu Wanning – only to realize, as he drew near –

Those... those were actually two automatons made of metal and nanmu wood!

Most crucially, they seemed to be borrowing the immortal aura of the lotus pond to channel spiritual energy into Chu Wanning. Mo Ran’s reckless leap had utterly disrupted the flow of spiritual energy.

Unaware of what array Chu Wanning was using, he was in a state of unconsciousness. He was suspended by the golden light emanating from the metallic palms of the two automatons, which continuously rose and converged on the wound at the back of his shoulder, evidently healing him.

Mo Ran's intrusion caused the golden light to dissipate swiftly. Even more unexpectedly, the array was now recoiling against its user!

The golden light faded away, and Chu Wanning's wounds began to consume themselves rapidly. He winced and let out a muffled groan, coughing up blood. Immediately after, the scars all over his body started to tear open, and his blood stained the lotus pond like a misty, bloody sunset.

Mo Ran was stunned.

This was Chu Wanning's "Floral Soul Sacrifice Technique"!

He realized that he might… have caused a disaster…

Chu Wanning's spiritual currents were dual-natured, gold and wood. The golden current was akin to "Heavenly Inquiry," specializing in offense and defense, while the wooden current was used for healing.

The Floral Soul Sacrifice Technique was one such method. Chu Wanning could summon the essences of a hundred flowers to mend his wounds. However, during the casting, no one else should intrude upon the array; otherwise, the floral spirits would disperse, nullifying the healing effect and exacerbating the injuries instead. In severe cases, Chu Wanning's spirit nucleus could be devoured by the myriad flower spirits.

Fortunately, Mo Ran had some knowledge of the Floral Soul Sacrifice Technique from his previous life. He swiftly severed the spiritual flow, putting an end to the chaos. Without the support of the array, Chu Wanning slumped, but Mo Ran caught him securely.

Unconscious, Master's face was deathly pale, his lips tinged with blue, and his body as cold as ice.

Mo Ran carried him ashore, unable to spare more than a fleeting glance. Half-carrying, half-dragging, he returned Chu Wanning to their bedroom and laid him on the bed.

"Master? Master!"

Despite calling out several times, not even Chu Wanning's eyelashes flickered. Apart from the slight rise and fall of his chest, he appeared no different from someone who had passed away.

This sight of Chu Wanning stirred memories in Mo Ran of his past life.

His throat constricted, and his heart raced uncontrollably.

In his previous life, two people had died in Mo Ran's arms.

Shi Mo. Chu Wanning.

One was the lover he yearned for day and night, and the other his lifelong nemesis.

After Shi Mo's departure, Mo Weiyu ceased to exist in this world.

Where was Chu Wanning?

Mo Ran had no idea. He only remembered that day when he held the person in his arms as their warmth slowly faded, not shedding a tear or a smile, with joy and sorrow becoming distant memories.

After Chu Wanning's departure, Mo Weiyu knew nothing of the mortal world anymore.

The bright candles illuminated Chu Wanning's bare upper body.

Wanning Yu Heng usually dressed conservatively, with high collars and tightly layered lapels. His waist was bound with three layers, giving him an upright and abstinent appearance.

Thus, nobody had ever seen the extent of the injuries hidden beneath his clothes after being beaten with two hundred rods...

Although Mo Ran had witnessed the cane wounds on Chu Wanning's back at the Hall of Discipline, he had only seen bloody, gruesome scars then. Believing that Chu Wanning seemed to be walking around just fine later, he thought there were likely no severe bone injuries.

It wasn't until this moment that Mo Ran realized Chu Wanning's injuries were far more severe than he had imagined.

The five gashes left by the Ghost Master were now fully open, revealing the stark white bones beneath the deepest parts.

Chu Wanning probably hadn't asked for help to change his medicine; he had done it himself. The ointment was unevenly applied, and some unreachable areas had already become inflamed and festering.

Not to mention the countless purple and blue bruises covering his entire back, leaving barely an unscathed patch of skin. Coupled with the backlash from the array just now, all of Chu Wanning's wounds had ripped open, fresh blood gushing out and quickly staining the bedsheet beneath him.

If not for witnessing it with his own eyes, Mo Ran would never have believed that the person who stubbornly wiped the bridge pillar and opened a massive protective barrier for the disciples was this—this severely injured individual who could be categorized as "frail and weak."

If Chu Wanning still had consciousness, Mo Ran truly wished he could grab the man's collar and demand answers.

Chu Wanning, do you have a superiority complex?

Just lower your head and admit defeat. Who would stop you? Why must you insist on being stubborn? You're already grown, so why don't you know how to take care of yourself and be kinder to yourself?

Why won't you ask someone else to help apply medicine?

Why do you prefer having two robots assist in casting a healing array instead of asking another person for help?

Chu Wanning, are you stupid??

Are you determined to die from stubbornness??

As he silently cursed inwardly, Mo Ran swiftly pressed the pressure points to stop the bleeding. Then, he fetched hot water to wipe away the bloodstains on Chu Wanning's back...

The blade was quenched in fire, severing the thoroughly rotten flesh.

With the first cut, Chu Wanning groaned in pain, his body instinctively jerking up. Mo Ran held him down, grumbling, "Groan for what? Are you begging for it? If you groan again, I'll stab you in the chest. Then you won't feel any more pain, and it'll be all over!"

Only at times like these could Mo Ran reveal his fierce nature, just as he had in his previous life, barking orders at him.

But there were too many white, decaying areas on the wound. As Chu Wanning's breaths grew shallow with each bit that was cleaned away, he remained silent.

Even in his unconscious state, this man would strive to suppress his pain, not crying out loudly. Only cold sweat drenched his body, soaking through the clean clothes that had just been put on him.

After a long while, the medicine was applied, and the wound was bandaged.

Mo Ran helped Chu Wanning into a loose inner robe and brought a thick cotton blanket, covering his feverish master before heaving a sigh of relief. Remembering that Madame Wang's prepared medicine was still sealed in an oil paper package, he boiled some water to make a bowl of herbal decoction, bringing it to Chu Wanning's bedside.

"Come, drink your medicine."

Holding the unconscious man in one arm, he propped him against his shoulder, and with the other hand, he scooped up the decoction, blowing on it before taking a small sip himself.

Mo Ran immediately scrunched up his face, his expression contorted like a steamed bun. "What the hell, so bitter?" But he still waited for it to cool before feeding it to Chu Wanning.

Feeding only halfway through, Chu Wanning couldn't endure it and started coughing violently, spitting out most of the medicinal liquid onto Mo Ran's clothes.

Mo Ran: "..."

He knew that Chu Wanning disliked bitterness and even feared it to some extent.

But if he were conscious, the stubborn Elder Yu Heng would undoubtedly endure his disgust and swallow the medicine in one go, as if he could conquer mountains and rivers with his breath. At most, he'd put on a stern face later and secretly eat a sweet.

Unfortunately, Chu Wanning was currently unconscious.

Mo Ran had no choice; it wouldn't be appropriate to get angry at an unconscious person. So, with patience, he fed him the medicine in small sips, occasionally wiping the corners of his mouth with a handkerchief.

This wasn't a difficult task for Mo Ran. In his previous life, there was a period when he fed Chu Wanning medicine like this every day. Back then, Chu Wanning would resist, and Mo Ran would slap him, grab his chin, and fiercely kiss him, invading his mouth with his tongue, the taste of blood filling their mouths...

Refusing to dwell on those memories, Mo Ran hastily fed the last few spoonfuls, allowing almost half of it to spill out with Chu Wanning's coughs. Then, he roughly tucked Chu Wanning into bed.

"I've done my best here. Don't kick off the covers tonight. You're already running a fever, and if you catch a cold...,"

Halfway through his nagging, he suddenly lost his temper and kicked the bed frame.

"Never mind, whether you catch a cold or not is none of my concern. I'd be happier if your illness worsened, ideally leading to your demise."

With that, he turned and left.

Reaching the door, he felt an uneasiness in his heart that wouldn't settle, compelling him to turn back. After some thought, he extinguished the candle for Chu Wanning. Then, he departed once more.

This time, he walked to the edge of the Red Lotus Pond, gazing at the lotuses that had bloomed more vibrantly from absorbing Chu Wanning's blood. The irritation within him only intensified.

Embarrassed by his own anger, he awkwardly returned to the bedroom.

Clanking like an aged and rusted robot, he reluctantly circled the room before finally standing by Chu Wanning's bedside.

Moonlight filtered through the half-open bamboo windows, bathing Wanning's chiseled features in a silvery glow.

His lips were pale, and his brow was slightly furrowed.

Mo Ran pondered for a moment before closing the window for him. The Sichuan region was humid, and leaving the window open at night would not do any favors for one's health. After completing this task, Mo Ran swore to himself inwardly:

If he were to return to the door again, he'd be no better than a dog!

Upon reaching the door, there was a sudden bang—Chu Wanning had actually kicked the blanket off with his foot.

Mo Ran: "……"

How on earth could one change this habit of kicking the blanket while sleeping?

With great determination befitting his sixteen-year-old self, the Exalted Immortal who Had Tread the Path of Demise refrained from acting like a dog. He left.

He meant what he said—he would not turn back through that door!

And so, moments later,

— the mighty and wise Heavenly Emperor pushed open the window and climbed in through it.

He picked up the blanket from the floor and carefully covered Chu Wanning again. Listening to his pained groans and watching his convulsing back as he curled up in the corner of the bed, Mo Ran no longer saw any trace of the usual ferocity in him.

Muttering "serves you right" under his breath, a hint of compassion still stirred within him.

He sat by Chu Wanning's bedside, keeping watch to ensure the blanket wouldn't be kicked off again.

As night deepened, Mo Ran, exhausted from the day's activities, finally began to falter. Gradually, his head tilted sideways, and he drifted off into slumber.

It was a restless sleep. Chu Wanning tossed and turned, and in Mo Ran's half-asleep state, he thought he could hear the man muttering softly.

In his light doze, Mo Ran lost track of time and place. Unconsciously, he found himself lying next to Chu Wanning, holding the shivering figure in his arms. With half-closed eyes, he stroked the man's back instinctively and whispered in his dreams, "There, there... it doesn't hurt anymore... it doesn't hurt anymore..."

Sleeping on, Mo Ran murmured, as if he had been transported back to their previous life on the Summit of Life and Death, to the desolate and spacious Wu Mountain Palace.

Since Chu Wanning's death, no one had lain in his embrace at night.

Even the entangled affection born from hatred ached in his heart amidst those cold, endless days, like a thousand ants gnawing at his soul with each passing thought.

Yet no matter how much he yearned or pondered, Chu Wanning could not return.

He had lost the last flicker of warmth in his life.

That night, Mo Ran held Chu Wanning close, half-awake and half-asleep, alternately aware that he had been granted a second chance at life and believing he was still in those bygone years.

He hesitated to open his eyes, fearing that upon waking the next morning, he would find only an empty pillow and a cold canopy, with the vast, fleeting world and the remainder of his long life stretching before him, solitary and alone.

There was no doubt that he hated Chu Wanning.

Yet, as he held the person in his arms, a hint of moisture shimmered in the corners of his eyes.

That was the thirty-two-year-old Heaven-Stepping Lord, a warmth that he once believed could never be regained.

"Wanning, it doesn't hurt anymore..."

With his consciousness hazy, Mo Ran caressed the person in his arms just as he had done before his rebirth, murmuring a tender phrase that slipped effortlessly from his lips.

Exhausted beyond measure, he didn't even realize what he had said or whom he had called out to; the words simply slipped out effortlessly before he sank into an even deeper slumber.

The next morning, Chu Wanning's eyelashes fluttered as he slowly regained consciousness.

With his formidable cultivation, the high fever from the previous night had already subsided.

Chu Wanning's eyes fluttered open, still groggy with sleep. As he tried to sit up, he abruptly realized that someone was lying in the same bed with him.

... Mo, Mo Weiyu???

The shock was immense. Chu Wanning's face turned pale in an instant, but he couldn't recall what had happened the previous night no matter how hard he tried. What was worse, his movement roused Mo Ran from sleep as well.

The youth yawned, his smooth and delicate countenance bearing a rosy flush peculiar to deep slumber. With bleary eyes, he languidly lifted his lids and bestowed a casual, somewhat incoherent glance upon Chu Wanning. He mumbled drowsily, "Ah… Allow this Venerable One a little more sleep… Since you're already awake, kindly prepare a bowl of egg drop pork congee for me to enjoy…"

Chu Wanning: "..."

Nonsense, mere ramblings in a dream?

Mo Ran remained groggy, yet rather than urging Chu Wanning to rise and prepare porridge, he indulged in a languid smile, extending his hand to draw Wanning's face closer. With practiced familiarity, he pressed a kiss to his lips.

"Refusing is fine too. I just had a terrible dream. In it... ah, never mind." He sighed, embracing the man who had turned utterly numb and rigid. Rubbing his chin against the top of the man's head, he murmured, "Chu Wanning, let me hold you a little longer."

Author's Note:

Sugar, sugar, sugar! Here's the sweetness you asked for!

As for why Mo Ran calls him "Wanning," this is not a slip of the tongue. In his previous life, he genuinely addressed his Master this way later on. As for why he speaks to him so intimately, that's a story for... well, a chapter that's still quite far off! Tada, I'm running away.