THE WALNUT SHIP soared through the cloud-dappled sky. The pleasure boat kept pace, but at a healthy distance. It was clear that Murong Chuyi was so averse to Jiang Yexue that he wasn't even willing to fly alongside him.
At dusk, the sun sank into the depths of the cloud sea, its brilliance lapping against the oars like the world's great river. Gu Mang had never seen such a sight and leaned over the ship's railing so as not to miss a moment. Reflected within those rain-washed blue eyes were the golden hues of eventide and the vast and distant lands below.
He was thoroughly engrossed in the view when something suddenly jabbed at his shin, twice. Gu Mang turned. At first, he saw no one. But after lowering his gaze, he saw that the culprit was an enchanted ceramic servant that could move under its own power. This servant was painted crudely, with uneven eyes and its nose and mouth squished together. Gu Mang found it incredibly funny and laughed out loud. "Who made this? Ha ha ha, it's so ugly!"
The bamboo curtain in the cabin rose and fell. Jiang Yexue emerged, clad in cream robes the shade of lotus root and seated in his wooden wheelchair powered by spiritual energy. He said to Gu Mang, "You made it."
Gu Mang was speechless.
At his shock and bewilderment, Jiang Yexue laughed. "It was a long time ago, when you were still in the army. You saw me making clay figurines, and of course you had to make one too. But you didn't have much patience back then. You always did things impulsively, starting off strong but losing steam toward the end. You sculpted half of it with me before you lost interest and half-heartedly drew on a face."
"So that's what happened…" Gu Mang sized up the ugly ceramic servant. When he considered how it had come from his own hands, he felt a little queer. The pottery figure bore signs of age, and some of its lacquer had already lost its color. It walked in circles around Gu Mang, its crooked mouth opening and closing as it recited clumsily, "Eat, eat."
Gu Mang reached deep into his sleeves and then said helplessly, "I didn't bring anything to eat. Also, you're made of clay—why do you want to eat?"
The ugly ceramic figure repeated stubbornly, "Eat, eat!"
Gu Mang thought that its obstinate expression, with its brows all scrunched up, was actually quite similar to Mo Xi's at times. But he had to keep such thoughts to himself. If anyone found out, whether it was the venerated Mo Xi himself or the droves of girls in Chonghua obsessed with Xihe-jun, Gu Mang would land himself in no end of trouble. He tried to shoo the figurine away. "There's nothing for you to eat, you can go."
The ugly clay servant reached out a tiny hand to tug on Gu Mang's sleeve. "Eat, eat!"
"It's not asking you for food," Jiang Yexue said with a smile. "It wants you to go into the cabin to eat."
Gu Mang had thought they would have to subsist on rations over this long journey and hadn't expected a sit-down meal. Curious, he asked: "Did you make the food?"
"No."
"Then forget it." Gu Mang shook his head like a rattle drum. "Whatever Xihe-jun makes is completely inedible."
"I've equipped this walnut ship with a couple of little enchanted clay figurines like this one," Jiang Yexue explained. "They did all the cooking. Just some simple dishes, but…" He paused and smiled, "It'll still be better than what Xihe-jun makes."
That brought Gu Mang a measure of relief. He turned to look at the pleasure boat sailing off in the distance. "We aren't asking Little Dragon— ahem, asking Murong-xiansheng to come eat?"
"Xiaojiu won't come." Jiang Yexue's expression dimmed, appearing gloomy and indistinct in the light of the setting sun. With a twitch of his fingertips, his wooden wheelchair turned and rolled toward the ship's cabin. "Let's go."
Within, two small clay people were busily arranging dishes and pouring tea. They were much more pleasant to look at than the one Gu Mang had made—their noses were noses, and their eyes were indeed eyes. One was a man and one a woman, both very endearing.
Although the dishes on the table weren't sophisticated fare, they were refreshing and tasty, and the tea was clear and sweet. Gu Mang didn't like to drink tea, so Jiang Yexue had warmed a jar of wine for him.
"Don't drink too much," Mo Xi said.
Jiang Yexue replied fondly, "This is fragrant snow wine; it's not easy to get drunk on it. If he likes it, let him do as he wants."
Gu Mang licked his lips, grinning artlessly. As the moist tip of his tongue darted out between his lips, Mo Xi swept a disapproving glance over it. "Qingxu Elder, he's a criminal. Why bother treating him with the same courtesy as before?"
Despite his words, Mo Xi still let Gu Mang have his way. It was indeed difficult to get drunk off of fragrant snow wine, but in the end, it was still wine. Gu Mang found its mild sweetness very much to his liking and ended up having a few cups too many. The food the little clay servants had prepared also contained some new and exciting flavors, and they were in charge of refilling all the dishes. Intrigued by their ungainly mannerisms as they served the food, Gu Mang wolfed down three more bowls than usual just so he could keep watching them.
When they finished dinner, each returned to their individual cabins to rest. Gu Mang's spiritual energy wasn't considered stable—he had, after all, gone berserk on Murong Lian's watch in recent memory—and they couldn't afford any risks with their walnut ship so high in the sky. Mo Xi had to monitor him as closely as possible, so he and Gu Mang were sharing a cabin tonight.
"So full…" Gu Mang groaned, holding his belly as he collapsed facefirst onto his bed.
"Get up." Mo Xi, ever fastidious, hauled Gu Mang back to his feet. "Go bathe before you sleep."
Gu Mang refused. "I won't."
"If you won't bathe, then you can sleep on the deck tonight."
Gu Mang collected his blankets, clearly ready to go sleep on the deck in the wind. Mo Xi's sharp brows drew together in anger as he dragged Gu Mang back. "Who said you could leave?" he said severely. "Lie down."
Gu Mang's sleepy eyes were unfocused, their blue irises like a mistveiled lake. "Can't I just not take a bath?"
"No."
Gu Mang frowned so intently his brows nearly touched. He slowly curled into a ball. "I really don't want to… I feel so weak… Why don't you help me wash?"
Mo Xi had worn a severe expression, but Gu Mang's response caught him off guard. He froze, and a hint of embarrassment surfaced on his features, instantly undercutting his intimidating aura. "Don't even think about it," he responded after a pause.
Gu Mang sighed and threw himself back onto the bed, sprawling across the blankets. He looked as though he could fall asleep just like this. Mo Xi's efforts to govern him were apparently fruitless; he was left to head to the washroom alone, where he took a bath and changed into clean clothes.
Mo Xi had assumed Gu Mang was acting out to avoid the bath. But when he returned, he found Gu Mang burrowed deep in the blankets, clutching his stomach. His brow was furrowed as he mumbled softly. At this point, there was no need for him to keep up the act. With a small jolt of surprise, Mo Xi realized he was truly feeling unwell. He dried his damp hair and came to the side of Gu Mang's bed. "What's wrong?"
Long lashes trembling, Gu Mang opened his eyelids a crack. His clear blue eyes were misty as he glanced weakly at Mo Xi. "Mn. Ate too much…" he grumbled. "So full, stomach hurts."
For a while, Mo Xi was silent. "Deserved," he said succinctly. But still he sat beside Gu Mang and gestured with a grim expression. "Roll over here."
Gu Mang hesitated. He generally couldn't afford to anger this person, and he could afford it even less when he was so weak. After all, a wise man knew better than to fight when the odds were against him. If he was told to roll, then he would roll. Thus he turned over twice on the bed, coming to a stop next to Mo Xi's hand. "Do I need to keep rolling?"
"Lie down and don't move," said Mo Xi.
So Gu Mang lay stiff as a salted fish. His clothes were in disorder, and his gaping lapels exposed an expanse of firm, scarred skin beneath. After a glance, Mo Xi reached over to pull Gu Mang's collar closed. Then he moved his hands to Gu Mang's stomach and slowly began to knead at it.
Gu Mang smacked his lips. "Are you punishing me for eating too much?"
"What do you think?" Mo Xi said curtly.
It wasn't Gu Mang's cynicism that was to blame, but Mo Xi's ornery personality. So often did he make life difficult for Gu Mang that Gu Mang had figured this somewhat ungentle massage was a new form of punishment. This punishment wasn't unbearable; although the kneading felt strange, the discomfort in his gut really did ease under Mo Xi's ministrations. Lying on the bed, Gu Mang heaved a sigh, his vision gradually dimming. Before he dropped off completely, he mumbled, "Then…you can punish me a little longer…"
In his last moments of consciousness, he saw Mo Xi's face go rigid as he registered these words, his eyes seeming to darken. Gu Mang's head lolled to the side. Face pressed to Mo Xi's arm, he fell into a hazy slumber.
That night, he dreamed once more, those lost memories glowing faintly.
He dreamed of a low tent, wind whistling outside as he breathed in the fragrance of pear-blossom white wine as well as Mo Xi's honeyed scent.
The world swam before his eyes. He realized this was the night of Mo Xi's coming of age, which he'd only half-remembered. On that night, he'd brought a porn booklet from an old book stall, his heart filled with mischief as he gifted it to his Mo-shidi on the eve of his adulthood. He hadn't realized he was playing with fire until Mo Xi finally pulled him down onto the bed…
The last dream had ended at this point, the memory broken off. He'd always been confused as to what exactly happened next, and why this scenario made him feel parched and uneasy. Perhaps it was due to the wine, and Mo Xi massaging his aching stomach in his bed—that regular, forceful rhythm recalling another kind of rhythm from his past.
Like clouds and mist dispersing, he remembered.
Youth meant inexperience and impetuousness, meant boundless power straining to break loose. Beastliness meant primal instinct and voracity, limitless desire threatening to spill out.
Those eyes stared fixedly and unerringly at Gu Mang. Clothes fell to the floor like the prying open of a clamshell, revealing trembling flesh beneath and the faint scent of the sea. Gu Mang's throat bobbed as he swallowed.
And now he was faced with the sight of Mo Xi undressed, which was exhilarating and terrifying in equal measure. His shoulders were broad, his waist slender yet well-muscled. Back then, Mo Xi had far fewer scars— especially on his chest. Back then, his chest was perfect and unblemished, clean of the wound Gu Mang had personally carved into his flesh.
In the dancing light and shadow, the bed swayed under the weight of their tangled bodies, emitting a strange chorus of creaks.
Gu Mang remembered how Mo Xi's motions had first been restrained as he pinned Gu Mang beneath him. As the night wore on, the young man's desire went to his head and his thrusts grew faster and harder. Gu Mang felt as though he had become clay in Mo Xi's hands as his wine-softened limbs were rearranged—half by his own will and half by Mo Xi's—into every sort of position as the two of them entwined.
He remembered Mo Xi's alluring lips, slightly parted as he panted; his low gasps as he pressed close to Gu Mang's ear; his body, surging ceaselessly in the murky light. An overwhelming sensation rushed through him. Gu Mang couldn't help but let out a hoarse moan, just like the one from his memories: "Sh-shidi… Ahh…"
Then, as though he had stepped into thin air Gu Mang's eyes flew open.
His violent shudders gradually ceased, like the tide receding. He was soaked in sweat and still trembling minutely, panting through glossy lips. Those unfocused blue eyes looked up, right into Mo Xi's face, which was now tense beneath the candlelight.