NOVEL NEXT 46. Three Lives, Three Worlds
bgm: bygone lovers
“Shizun!” Nan Wuyue caught his master as soon as Mo Yixuan pitched forward, nearly tumbling down himself in the process. Eventually, he managed to ease the peak lord into a sitting position against the wall so he could examine him.
His master was unconscious and didn’t respond to stimuli. Even when Nan Wuyue worked up the nerve to pry his eyes open and pinch him, the peak lord remained stubbornly senseless. He quickly cleared the air around them as best as he could, but there was no improvement.
It’s like he’s been drugged, Nan Wuyue concluded as he felt Mo Yixuan’s hotter than usual forehead. Did Shizun touch or drink something after we separated? Mo Yixuan might not eat, but he was still in the habit of taking tea.
At present the condition wasn’t fatal, so their best bet was to wait for the fit to pass since Mo Yixuan’s cultivation should be strong enough to fight it off alone. Not one to waste time, Nan Wuyue sat down next to his master and began to search for a weak point in the illusion. Something like this that targeted captives indiscriminately had to have an anchor point. If he could find and destroy it—
Whump.
Nan Wuyue’s thoughts were interrupted by a heavy weight falling onto him. Startled, he saw that Mo Yixuan had slid from his position against the wall to rest his head on Nan Wuyue’s shoulder. Dark strands of hair glided past his face, framing the long lashes and regal features comically marred by one squished cheek.
Nan Wuyue had never seen his master look so...guileless. The old Mo Yixuan put on hypocritical smiles before a crowd but sneered at him in private. The new Mo Yixuan varied between looking expressionless or deep in thought. One openly disdained, the other kept his distance. Only in sleep did he finally let down his guard.
Of course, by now Nan Wuyue knew his master well enough to guess that Mo Yixuan wouldn’t be happy to wake up in this position. He tried to push him upright, but that only ended up making Mo Yixuan slide off his shoulder and onto his chest. Nan Wuyue caught his master’s head before he crashed face-first into a kneecap, then stiffly lowered him to rest against his thigh.
Ah. Great.
Now Mo Yixuan was sleeping on his lap.
Ignoring his rapid heartbeats, Nan Wuyue gingerly brushed some stray hairs out of his master’s face, his fingers skimming past soft skin like dancing dragonflies before guiltily withdrawing in a rush. His left hand ended up resting on the ground, but his right had nowhere to go and could only hover awkwardly over Mo Yixuan’s shoulder.
Nan Wuyue sighed. “Shizun, it’s not my fault this time...right?”
Mo Yixuan slept on in blissful ignorance, but his dreams were far less relaxed...
—
“I’m really getting married?” Mo Yixuan stared at Fei Chenling.
“Mm,” the sect leader nodded as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Mo Yixuan took a deep breath and looked around. He was sitting in his quarters at Mt. Jingting, but some ungodly influence had switched out all his bedding for bright red sheets and changed the candles to match. Crimson peonies littered the room in all his various vases and bottles, their intoxicating scent all but drowning him in fragrance. Even his sect leader looked more festive than usual, choosing to wear deep green robes sewn with auspicious designs. The colors were reassuring—at least Mo Yixuan knew he wasn’t marrying Fei Chenling today.
“Is this for a sect formality?” Mo Yixuan tried. He hadn’t read about this in any of Star Pavilion Sect’s manuals. Anyways, since when did cultivators marry?!
“Xuan’er, you were the one who insisted on it,” Fei Chenling laughed. “I told you we were beyond such customs, but you wouldn’t let up. Really, you’re far too indulgent of that—”
“Senior brother!”
The doors swung open as Mu Yelian strode in, dressed in bright purples and holding a giant silk peony in her hands. Mo Yixuan instinctively recognized it as the red silk ball that grooms traditionally tied to their chests when first picking up the bride, but why was it a peony? In fact, why are there so many peonies in the first pla—
“Senior brother, stop spacing out! You’re going to miss the auspicious hour!” Mu Yelian clicked her tongue as she tied the oversized flower around his torso. Sweet perfume emanated from its petals, making Mo Yixuan dizzy. He closed his eyes and breathed through his mouth, rubbing his temples to ease the nausea.
When he opened them again, he had a fright. Now he was standing in Fei Chenling’s hall before a giant wedding altar emblazoned with the characters for “double happiness” (囍) on the wall. Rows of cultivators lined the walls, disciples and distinguished seniors alike, while a smug-looking Ouyang Che stood at the head of the room. Seated in the seat of honor traditionally reserved for the parents of the groom was Fei Chenling himself, smiling upon them like a benediction.
“...second bow to the parents!” Ouyang Che said, and Mo Yixuan found himself automatically bowing to his sect leader amidst claps and cheers. There were even musicians playing in the background, their cacophony of suonas and drums nearly giving him a headache.
“Wait a min—” he began.
“Third bow between husband and wife!” Ouyang Che continued, and Mo Yixuan’s body turned to kowtow towards his wife beneath her red wedding veil.
...why is she even taller than me?
As they straightened, Mo Yixuan tried in vain to see through the thick fabric obscuring his spouse’s features. When that didn’t work, he simply reached out to snatch it off the other’s head—
—as the surroundings shifted again to both of them sitting on his bed while surrounded by candlelight. Mo Yixuan’s grip slackened on the wedding veil in his hands as it slid to the ground.
Across from him sat a young and handsome man with sharp, piercing eyes and chiseled features. His hair was tied up into a tall sleek ponytail, held into place by a golden hair crown with a ruby phoenix pin. Someone had lightly drawn make-up on his face, leaving his cheeks softly dusted with powder like new-fallen snow, his brows penciled to angular heroic arches, his lashes long and dark and seductive. Even the faintest tinge of red graced his lips, making them look extra lush in the romantic lighting.
He was the kind of man who looked cold at first glance, but the drape of his crimson robes and the exquisiteness of his features had turned him gentle in the evening like a hawk fluffing its feathers as it nestled into its nest. An urge to pet him rose in Mo Yixuan’s heart, but he ruthlessly crushed that thought before it took flight. The man’s features were vaguely familiar, though Mo Yixuan couldn’t place him. Where had he seen him bef—
“Shizun,” his spouse murmured and Mo Yixuan nearly had a heart attack.
“Nan Wuyue?!” he sputtered back.
A much older Nan Wuyue immediately scrunched his features into a frown as he rested a hand on Mo Yixua’s thigh. “Shizun, you promised you’d call me Ah-Yue after we got married.”
Like hell we are. Mo Yixuan shook off his husband’s sticky fingers and ran straight for the door, intending to bolt.
It was locked. By cultivator means. No matter.
Mo Yixuan kicked open a window and started climbing out, but not before Nan Wuyue caught up and wrapped his arms around Mo Yixuan’s waist.
“Shizun, where are you going?” A husky voice murmured by his ear. “This is our wedding night.”
Ah, perfect height. Mo Yixuan raised a fist and perfectly punched his disciple in the nose, causing Nan Wuyue to topple backwards.
Amid muffled grunts of pain, Mo Yixuan made a successful escape outside, tearing off his bright red outer robes as he flew in a beeline for the mountain peak. Stay calm. Deep breaths. There was no way in any rational capacity that he’d skipped forward a few years, fell in love with his own disciple, and decided to tie the knot!
There was a cluster of peony bushes blooming in profusion at the very top of Mt. Jingting. Mo Yixuan found them ideal for cover and landed between the bright, flourishing blossoms to hide away and think. How did he end up back in the sect? The last thing he remembered was leaving for a mission with his disciple and then...and then…
His thoughts petered off into a hazy fog. Above, the full moon illuminated the peony bushes in a silvery sheen, highlighting the dewdrops just starting to form on the petals and leaves. Their scent filled his lungs with every inhale and Mo Yixuan was considering switching to a different spot when the shrubbery rustled behind him.
He turned and saw Nan Wuyue struggling into the clearing in his wedding robes while sporting a bloody nose from where Mo Yixuan had punched him last.
“Shizun, you haven’t hit me for years,” the handsome young man complained. Now standing at full height, he easily towered half a head over his master. “Did disciple do something to displease you?”
“Ha ha.” Mo Yixuan laughed drily.
Then he turned and ran in the other direction, ignoring Nan Wuyue’s exclamation. The peony bushes soon gave way to the edge of a cliff, but Mo Yixuan kept going until he dove straight over the edge. Knife-like winds and blurred mountain walls rushed past his vision as he descended into a terrifying freefall into the fathomless darkness.
Two seconds in, Mo Yixuan remembered that he could fly in this world. Why didn’t he jump up instead of down?
Four seconds in, he blacked out.
—
Once again, Mo Yixuan woke up with a jolt.
The sun was shining. The birds were singing. He was lying on a bed of vines gently rocking back and forth between two trees, looking out upon a vista of endless skies. The faint sound of waterfalls behind him confirmed that he was back on Jadecloud Peak, that quiet haven removed from the world.
For a second Mo Yixuan simply remained still to stare at the clouds drift by. Something was definitely strange. He’d been flying—no, falling?—and it was somehow Nan Wuyue’s fault, but now he was—
“Awake, Ah-Xuan?”
Shi Feng glided into view while holding a tray in his hands. Today his hair was undone and hung loosely about his head. Its thick, dark waves trailed past his shoulders to trace the curves of his well-built chest beneath, which was exposed by his loosely tied robes. The Lord Amidst the Clouds had always been ethereally carefree with his appearance, but there was a touch of the human about him today with the extra show of skin.
He even sat down right next to Mo Yixuan, causing the other to scoot back quickly to maintain his personal space. Belatedly, Mo Yixuan realized he was barefoot and hastily tucked his toes beneath his robes.
“I’ve made you some tea,” Shi Feng went on naturally as he set down his tray on a low table. Mo Yixuan noticed it had a teapot and two cups both made of exquisite porcelain. As Shi Feng poured, hot steam rose from the liquid and formed itself into patterns of beautiful flowers in the air. Mo Yixuan stared at them, both transfixed and confused.
“...peonies?” he muttered after recognizing their shapes. Where have I seen those bef—
“If that’s what Ah-Xuan wants,” Shi Feng finished pouring with an indulgent smile. He brought out his brush and began to paint in the air. Instantly, a cloud of peony blossoms materialized out of nothingness, overwhelming the faint scent of tea with their bold, fresh fragrance as they fell upon Mo Yixuan in a shower of silken petals. They had covered him like a sheet before Shi Feng paused to pick up his own cup for a leisurely sip.
“The sweet scent of flowers pair best with tea in the mornings,” he remarked. “Ah-Xuan, do you want to have a taste?” Abruptly he bent down, lips still wet with tea as he sought out the lips of the man benea—
—Mo Yixuan stuffed a giant peony in Shi Feng’s face.
As the half-immortal spat out a mouthful of petals, Mo Yixuan slipped off the bed of vines and onto solid ground. This time he simply fled into the house behind him, slamming shut the door before he leaned against it with heavy breaths.
“Is Ah-Xuan acting shy?” Shi Feng called from outside. The undercurrent of laughter in his tone sounded too tender, prickling Mo Yixuan’s chest with its earnest warmth. He glared at the door until something bounced off his head. Catching it in his hands, he saw—yet another peony.
Looking up, he realized that the ceiling was covered in them, hanging soft and heavy like raindrops ready to fall. Before he could make sense of the sight, the ground gave away and Mo Yixuan went tumbling backwards into—the sky? No, he fell onto a bed of fluffy softness he recognized as one of Shi Feng’s painted clouds. Next to him, the half-immortal lay with a hand propping up his head as he played with a lock of Mo Yixuan’s hair.
“I can promise you eternity,” Shi Feng was saying, “So forget about the world and stay with me.”
Mo Yixuan freed his hair and sat up. “What’s eternity without a moment of peace?”
“You’ll find peace after you let go of your past.”
“There are things I’ll always remember.”
Shi Feng leaned over with an intimate chuckle. “I can help you forget.”
Mo Yixuan leaned back, unimpressed. “Who are you?”
The other chuckled at him. “Your lover, of course.”
“Of course you are,” Mo Yixuan deadpanned. Abruptly he reached out, resting his hands on Shi Feng’s shoulders, and pushed.
The half-immortal smiled up to the second he realized Mo Yixuan hadn’t pushed him back onto the cloud, but off its edge instead. He immediately wrapped his arms around the other man’s waist, but widened his eyes when Mo Yixuan put up no resistance and fell off with him. Shi Feng looked incredulous as they both went plummeting towards the earth.
“You—!”
“Sorry, but I hate liars.”
Mo Yixuan wasn’t too surprised when his vision turned black seconds later.
—
He recovered consciousness while walking mid-step on something soft; not expecting the texture, Mo Yixuan’s knees gave way and he almost fell before someone caught him around the waist.
“Oops, careful.” A warm hand took Mo Yixuan’s wrist to steady him from an unfortunate face-plant on the carpet.
Instead of flowers, the musky scent of cologne filled his nostrils as Mo Yixuan blinked under the sparkling chandeliers. He was in one of those fancy hotel ballrooms rented out for formal business conferences that looked utterly anachronistic against its guests in suits and modern cocktail dresses. Mo Yixuan was similarly attired, the collar of his dress shirt digging uncomfortably against his neck while the dull drone of scattered conversation and clinking glasses reached his ears. Touching his hair, he found it short and barely past his ears. Looking up at his helper, his expression immediately stiffened.
A pair of irises glimmered behind silver spectacles like pools of dark ink, their owner wearing a smile of amusement that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He was dressed impeccably in a light gray suit, his short hair parted and combed neatly for the formal occasion. Without even checking, Mo Yixuan knew he had a Patek Philippe watch on his left wrist with a white-gold trim, its blue face etched with a design of the Milky Way in gold dust. He had considered the design juvenile because the font face for its Roman numerals looked too childish, but his junior had taken equally puerile satisfaction in rattling off its astronomical price tag.
Then again, his co-worker always had a habit of coveting expensive toys.
“Yi-ge, you seem a little pale,” Shangguan Yin’s brows twisted into a semblance of concern as he supported his weight. “Why don’t we go back to your room?”
Mo Yixuan stared at him mutely. Why hadn’t he noticed? No matter what feelings Shangguan Yin tried to project, his expressions never reached his eyes.
No, I was too caught up in what we had to see his true colors.
It didn’t make Mo Yixuan feel like any less of an idiot, though. But as Shangguan Yin’s grip tightened around his waist, a wave of emotion roared into his head like a tidal wave.
Rage.
“You bastard,” he seethed. “You complete and utter piece of sh—”
“Yi-ge, you don’t mean that,” Shangguan Yin smiled brightly as he dragged Mo Yixuan into the hallway towards the elevators. The wallpaper was of a peony-print pattern, the flowers all but choking each other in a riotous mob. “You’re just drunk.”
Wham!
Mo Yixuan’s fingers twitched around Shangguan Yin’s collar after slamming the man so hard against the wall that his glasses turned crooked.
“You killed them,” he hissed.
“Yi-ge, you’re not in your right mind,” Shangguan Yin straightened his glasses and murmured patiently. Patronizingly.
Perhaps he was right, because pieces of the wallpaper had broken off during their scuffle as bits of leaves and stems on the carpet, and the peonies on the wall were definitely moving—but Mo Yixuan remembered those victims, recalled how the judge’s voice had droned on as he listed off their cause of death and the structural collapse that had left them without intact corpses beneath the rubble.
“Why did you do it?” he demanded again.
“Me?” Shangguan Yin echoed, only smiling when Mo Yixuan tugged harder at his shirt. “I think you’re confused. I didn’t do a thing.”
“You—”
“If you insist on talking about that,” Shangguan interrupted him effortlessly, again with the easy air of someone placating a child. “then I say you’ve done plenty.”
Mo Yixuan caught his breath, but still glared back. “Don’t make this about me, you—”
“Because you weren’t paying enough attention. Because you didn’t stop me in time,” Shangguan Yin went on. He paused to tilt his head, blinking innocently. “Yi-ge, the clues were always there. But you chose to turn a blind eye, just because I said I lov—
Mo Yixuan clapped a hand against Shangguan Yin’s mouth to shut him up, but the latter only laughed, exhaling hot air against his palm. The sensation made Mo Yixuan recoil, but it wasn’t until Shangguan Yin licked him that he shoved the man aside in disgust, his skin crawling with goosebumps.
“Yi-
ge is being so rough today,” Shangguan Yin sighed. “Well, I can’t say I dislike it.”Mo Yixuan was going to commit murder.
—
Back in the hallway, Nan Wuyue suddenly sat up, his meditation broken. He had found the anchor point for the illusion!
At the same time, he felt a sudden fluctuation of qi and glanced to his right. Leaving Mo Yixuan in his lap had been too much for him in the end, so his master was now lying on the floor with his head pillowed against Nan Wuyue’s outer robes. He quickly went to check on him, but jolted as soon as their hands touched.
He’s burning up… Nan Wuyue narrowed his eyes.
—
Footnotes:
Three bows - You can read more about traditional Chinese wedding customs here.
Yi-ge (逸哥) - literally “older brother Yi,” used as a casual form of address between younger/older people in the same generation, or towards seniors in the workplace. Does not imply an actual familial relationship. Using the pinyin form was just much smoother than trying to force a wordy English translation.
—
{extra}
Shi Feng: I never expected Ah-Xuan to push me down.
Nan Wuyue: Watch your context!
Shi Feng, sighing: I never expected Ah-Xuan to top me.
Nan Wuyue: I said, wATCH YOUR CONT—
Mo Yixuan: I topped you too.
Nan Wuyue: S-shizun?!
Mo Yixuan’s private scoreboard*
- Mo Yixuan vs. Nan Wuyue (1 - 0)
- Mo Yixuan vs. Shi Feng (1 - 0)
Ruyi, banging pots and pans: Now taking bets on the next big match!
Ruyi: Since our MC’s already suffered a defeat we’re looking for at least a tie to win!
Ruyi: Hurry and buy your tickets now!
Final Match!!
- Mo Yixuan vs. Shangguan Yin (?? - 1)
*lame joke because shorthand for gongs/tops are 1s while shous/bottoms are 0s & oops am i’m the only one amused by this
—
Chinese: 上官隱
Shangguan - a two-character surname. Can also mean "high-ranking official, superior."
Yin - secret, hidden, concealed.
Visual Inspiration:
Mo Yixuan's junior at his old company back in the modern world. A man whose soft-spoken visage hides a greedy, empty hole of a heart, and the ultimate cause of Mo Yixuan's death.
Shangguan Yin's watch for the curious:
