HIS HEAD HURT fit to burst, but Mo Xi still gritted his teeth and pushed Gu Mang away. "None of your business," he said quietly. "You'd better sit down."
Gu Mang didn't listen. "Why are you bringing up his papa during a celebration?"
Mo Xi wondered if he was imagining it—he saw an anger he'd never before witnessed in those usually vacant blue eyes. Gu Mang's hand gripped Mo Xi's wrist tightly, perhaps out of guilt, or in atonement. He wouldn't let go no matter what.
"Don't you know his papa passed away a long time ago?" He paused. "Why? Why do you want to make him sad?"
The old bastards couldn't take this hit to their pride. "You disgusting creature," one of them spat. "You dare speak to us nobles like this in the palace?"
"Running wild just because your mind's broken? Get lost! No one asked you!"
Gu Mang didn't budge. He stared at them, and then yanked his lapels open to expose the slave collar around his pale neck. Despite this mark of shame upon him, he nevertheless stood valiantly in front of Mo Xi. The sight of him left the crowd momentarily stunned. It was as though the former Beast of the Altar, that powerful and charismatic man who could charm humans and ghosts alike, had returned to this broken shell.
"I am a servant of Xihe Manor," Gu Mang proclaimed. "He is my master."
Mo Xi was so dizzy he was close to collapsing. Only sheer willpower kept him on his feet. He closed his eyes and said in a low voice, "Gu Mang, you'd better get..."
"I'll drink this wine on his behalf," Gu Mang said, interrupting him. As he spoke, he imitated what Mo Xi's had done to open the seal, his expression grave.
But before he could drink a single drop, a mighty kick to the chest cut him off. "Haven't you been taught the rules?" cried the furious old noble. The jug of wine smashed to pieces on the ground. That old noble's son had died fighting Gu Mang. He pointed a trembling finger at him, face scarlet. "You...you traitor! You deserve to die a thousand times for your crimes! What right do you have to stand here and talk?"
The situation had spun out of control, and no one knew what to say to resolve it. On the other hand, the emperor was a madman who thrived on chaos. He probably thought that an ordinary feast on New Year's Eve wasn't thrilling enough, and the sight of a fight breaking out under his nose only served to energize him. Engrossed, he watched with his chin in his hand instead of calling for them to stop at once.
At his core, Gu Mang had a ruthless nature. While he remained naive, he could still be passive. But now he had regained some of his memories and learned something of the debts he owed Mo Xi. Fueled by this knowledge and his natural instincts, Gu Mang refused to back down, no matter how inappropriate his actions might be.
Gu Mang pointed at Mo Xi. "I've done bad things. But he hasn't."
No one spoke.
"To gang up on him like that is shameless."
Mo Xi was getting dizzier. Quietly, he tried to stop him. "Gu Mang, don't..."
Gu Mang glanced at Mo Xi with his clear, bright-blue eyes. "I'm sorry. I understand why you said I was dirty before. You're a good person. I won't let them bully you." With that, he turned to glare at those old bastards. "Come at me, you..." He paused, trying to come up with an appropriate term and failing. He tossed one out at random: "You flower- pluckers!"
Silence reigned.
The emperor went,"Pfft—!"
The atmosphere had been tense and hostile, but when the crowd heard that ridiculous phrase from Gu Mang's mouth, they couldn't help but burst into laughter. Yue Chenqing nearly spat out his wine as he guffawed, slapping the table. But those old men couldn't handle the affront. They raised their fists, surging forward to seize Gu Mang. All of them were truly crazed with anger: the wine and their emotions had gone to their heads, and they struck without thought.
Mo Xi blinked laboriously and shook his head. His thoughts were a tangle, leaving only instinct, a thread of lucidity. At the sight of the crowd laying hands on Gu Mang, Mo Xi thought of the red lotus sigil on Gu Mang's neck and was suffused by an intense dissatisfaction and pain.
Why? Why did every person he held in his heart end up ruined and destroyed? His father died, Mengze was sick, Gu Mang would never recover... Was he fated to be alone?
"Don't hit him..." Blood vessels spiderwebbed across Mo Xi's eyes as muddled sounds issued from his throat, too soft for anyone to hear. It was too like the thought of the lifelong companionship he'd once begged for— completely unobtainable. His true heart was something no one would ever know, or believe in.
"Don't... hit...him."
It was almost a sob. Mo Xi shielded Gu Mang, who was clutching his head, wretchedly trying to squirm away from the onslaught. Both his hands and his voice were trembling; the world in his eyes was waterlogged and shaky. Mo Xi was drunk enough that he was no longer fully alert, and it was hard for others to tell what he intended. Although he was trying to protect Gu Mang, no one had noticed anything strange about his actions. The onlookers only knew that a fight had broken out and Xihe-jun had gotten pulled in. Many faces paled at once. But when they looked to the emperor, they saw that he still hadn't called for a stop to the fighting. He was rolling a berry between his fingers and watching with narrowed eyes, as if in contemplation.
The first group to spring to action was the officers of the Northern Frontier Army. Despite their jokes, their stepdad was still their dad; they had faced death together. How could they allow others to humiliate him so? They forgot about placing bets and hastened to the scene.
"Aiya, Yongle-jun, cool down a little."
"Xinghe-jun, don't be mad, it's the New Year."
They smiled as they broke up the scuffle, sneaking in a few punches alongside. How could the old nobles be a match for these army ruffians? In moments, the officers had most of them thoroughly subdued. But a few of those who remained held blood grudges against Gu Mang. They had lost all rationality and cared nothing for their rank or the circumstances. As they grabbed Gu Mang and struck him, they shrieked in rage, "You deserve to die! Why don't you go die!"
Princess Mengze couldn't bear to watch any longer either. She was worried that Mo Xi would be hurt in the chaos. Ignoring Yanping's attempts to dissuade her, she also strode over to intervene. But how would those old men be willing to listen? The pain of mourning their sons, the blood debts carved into their bones...they might suppress these things when they were sober, but now, these men had been unexpectedly set off. The princess was here? So what?
"You! You better fucking listen up! No one cares what happened to your mind—it doesn't matter if you've forgotten! You're still a murderer! A traitor! You're going to hell, never to be reincarnated! All the dead are watching! All of them are watching you!"
Gu Mang's heart juddered. All the dead were watching him.. .just like that time at the Soul-Calling Abyss. All of them were watching him, demanding their lives from him.
"Why haven't you died yet? All I wish for, day in and day out, is to see you dead!"
"You motherless, fatherless, bastard cur!"
These men had lost control. Stripped of their rank, wealth, and reputation, a human's basest instincts and emotions were no different from those of a wild beast. Someone shoved Gu Mang viciously. He stumbled and fell to the ground, knocking over the tea table behind him. Wine spilled across the floor, and shards of porcelain pierced the flesh of his back. Blood flowed from the wounds, but Gu Mang barely noticed the pain. Faced with the intense hatred of those old nobles, he couldn't say a word. He watched as someone picked up a heavy jug of wine, preparing to smash it over his head.
Without warning, something came flying through the air and shattered the jug. The broken pieces skittered across the floor as wine splashed everywhere. Gu Mang shielded his face with a hand, squinting through the downpour of wine. When he could again open his eyes, he saw that a pipe had tumbled to the floor next to him.
So this was the object that had been thrown with enough force to break the wine jug. Staring, Gu Mang turned his head. The person who had blocked this blow was Murong Lian?
Murong Lian had risen from his seat. His hand was presently clamped around that insane old noble's wrist, and he was quite drunk. He reached out to flick the man's head, smiling lazily. "What's wrong, little darling? Using the chaos as cover for your own vengeance? Who do you think you are? This lord's grudge hasn't even been settled yet. Get the fuck to the back of the line."
"Murong Lian! You—! You dare to address this elder so! You, you..."
"Oh, you're unhappy with being called little darling?" Murong Lian licked his lips and smiled. "What a pouty flirt you are. All right, all nght, how about little sweetheart?"
"You—!"
Now that Xihe, Wangshu, and Mengze were all involved, the emperor had no choice but to step in, no matter how much he wanted to watch the show. He finally cleared his throat from atop the throne, as if he had only just noticed the commotion. "What's all this?" he asked sternly. "It's New Year's Eve. I don't care if you're not bringing us blessings, but you dare make a scene and cause trouble here? Imperial guards!"
"Yes, Your Majesty!"
"Pull them apart!"
"At once!"
Gu Mang finally managed to escape from the mess. The imperial guards pulled the old nobles off him and dragged him out of the fray. Panting for breath, he instinctively looked toward Mo Xi, only to see that Mengze had already helped him over to a seat nearby.
Mo Xi had been wounded; someone had cut him deeply on the shoulder, and the wound still dripped blood. Now that the fight was over, he could finally let down his guard. As soon as he lowered his defenses, he looked entirely exhausted by the effects of the wine.
"Lean back," said Mengze. "Let me take a look at your wound."
Mo Xi's eyes drifted shut as he rested against the stone pillar at his back. Distressed, Mengze ran soft fingers over his shoulder as she murmured, "Why didn't you dodge?"
"I'm fine." Mo Xi's long lashes lowered. "Couldn't."
"You couldn't?" Mengze wasn't stupid. "More like you got distracted as soon as you saw him take the wine for you... He's a traitor! Why can't you get this straight? Why can't you remember this?"
Mo Xi's lashes fluttered. "I didn't do it for him," he murmured.
Mengze didn't reply. She knew how he was—when he dug his heels in, not even ten oxen could move him. Instead, she merely placed a palm over his wound. "I'll help you stop the bleeding."
Gu Mang witnessed this all from where he sat nearby. Throughout their exchange, Mengze hadn't looked at anyone else, and neither had Mo Xi... Gu Mang began to understand why Mo Xi was so good to her. Everyone longed for gentleness and was grateful for tenderness. He inflicted upon Mo Xi wounds and suffering, while Mengze gave him care and protection.
He had initially thought to atone for his crimes. He had wanted to say sorry to Mo Xi for the things he couldn't remember. But now, there was a lump in his throat, and he couldn't say a thing. He was a traitor. That meant he had no one and only ever brought harm to others, right?
Gu Mang didn't look at Mo Xi and Mengze again. He turned away and reached down to pull a deeply embedded shard of crockery from his arm. He tossed it to the ground. Just moments ago, he had yanked open his collar and said he belonged to Mo Xi, so he could help Mo Xi and take the wine for him. What a massive joke. Even the thought of it made his face burn with embarrassment. Slowly, almost wretchedly, he crouched down in a corner. There he sat with his arms around his knees, curling himself into a ball as if to escape from those curious and disdainful stares.
But he couldn't hide. Like a fool, he had impulsively stepped out in front of Mo Xi and loudly proclaimed his stance. Everyone had heard him. Now he had made trouble for Mo Xi. He didn't dare go to Mo Xi's side, nor did Mo Xi want him there. No one had forgiven him, and no one paid attention to him. He could only brace himself and sit alone, head lowered as he endured those sharply assessing gazes.
"He even said Xihe-jun was his master..."
"Heh heh, wasn't he always that arrogant? Sure, he used to be formidable, but this is why he was doomed to fail. He has no self-awareness or brains, he had humble lineage yet great ambitions—everything about him was wrong. He only became a general because his innate spiritual power happened to be strong, nothing more. Now that his core is shattered, it's obvious how preposterous he is."
"He certainly doesn't know his place. What a nuisance—he even got Xihe-jun injured too."
"What a disaster..."
Sitting among these snippets of conversation that only grew louder, Gu Mang lost the powerful shadow he had briefly regained. Once again, he was hunched and small.