Chapter 187: Master, You Are My Light

When Chu Wanning turned his head, there seemed to be a smile in Hua Binan's eyes as he stretched out a delicate white hand from beneath the sleeve of his wide turquoise silk robe and gently spread it out in front of him, indicating the brocade box in front of Chu Wanning's hand.

Chu Wanning nodded, and said to the mute servant, "Thank you."

When the mute servant saw that he had taken the box, he bowed low again and went back to his master's side.

Xue Zhengyong said in surprise, " Yu Heng, you know the Cold Scale Sage"

"I don't know." Chu Wanning looked at the box in front of him, "If I did I wouldn't have to spend two and a half million gold at the Regulus Club to buy his tapir scented dew."

"Then what did he give you this for?"

"I don't know." Chu Wanning said, "Open it and see."

The box was opened and inside were five more bottles of warm tapir scented lotion and a letter.

Chu Wanning opened the letter and read it, saying that he knew that Master Chu had paid a high price for the dew at Xuanyuan Court, and that he felt that the tapir dew was not worth that price.

Xue Zhengyong immediately said, "I think he wants to make friends with you."

""

Chu Wanning thanked Hua Binan from afar, but handed the box to Xue Zhengyong at the bottom.

Xue Zhengyong was delighted: "Give it to me."

"To Elder Greedy Wolf." Chu Wanning said, "I always thought this Hua Binan was a bit odd, Xuanyuan Court auctioned off so many of his high priced medicines every year, all at inflated prices, did he compensate over one by one"

Xue Zhengyong muttered, "I don't think it's surprising, after all, there are high prices, but it's the first time I've heard of one as outrageous as yours."

Chu Wanning looked angry and said, "I just need something, what's so outrageous about it. Anyway, you should give all five bottles to Covetous Wolf. I think there is no poison here, but it would not be a waste for Covetous Wolf to learn how to prepare tapir scented dew."

"You don't need it anymore."

"I"

It is strange to see that the absurd and realistic dreams have become less and less frequent lately, except for the occasional fragmented dream during the days when I first came out of the School of Confucianism, but the rest of the nights are good.

It would be a waste to drink any more tapir dew and Chu Wanning saw no point in keeping such a good potion for himself.

After two or three days on Lingshan Mountain, Mo Ran was gone when I returned to the summit of the dead.

Xue Meng said, "He's gone to get rid of the demons."

Chu Wanning's brow rose in a thin line: "There's another demon for the nineteenth time this month."

"They are all from the Confucianism School Jingu Tower." Xue Meng sighed. Xue Meng sighed and said, "We have caught many of them and put them in our Tongtian Tower, but the Tongtian Tower is not like the Jingu Tower, the tower is small and the spirit stone spells are not as powerful as those of the Confucianism School. "

Xue Zhengyong said, "Next time Li Wuxin comes again, ask him to bring a little to Bitan Mountain Resort and town in his Tower of the Holy Spirit."

Xue Meng smiled, "That's a good idea too."

Xue Zhengyong said, "Lonely Moonlit can also share a little bit, I heard that their star-picking tower is even bigger than Confucianism School's Jingu Tower"

This time Xue Meng was reluctant, raising his dark eyebrows and saying angrily, "No."

"What's wrong?"

"I don't like that ginger dog, he's so annoying, Tongtian Tower is bursting at the seams I wouldn't give him the demon my sect is holding."

Chu Wanning shook his head, not wanting to hear any more yelling from father and son, and left.

He went back to the water pavilion and slept, and sure enough, he had another good night's sleep, with no more old dreams to disturb him. By the time he woke up from his sleep, the sun was already like blood, and the night was soaking up most of the sky, with only a trace of evening blood lingering in the sky.

By this time there was no more food at Mengpo Court, but he was a little hungry, so he gathered his clothes and pushed himself out, ready to go for a walk around Wuchang Town and have some refreshments.

The result was the sight of Mo Ran returning from a demon hunt, walking up the long stone steps leading to the red lotus water pavilion.

At the sight of him, Mo Ran smiled, "Master, I heard from my uncle that you were sleeping and was coming to wake you up."

"Something's wrong."

"Nothing." He said, "Just wanted to come and see you and walk together."

It is a coincidence that Chu Wanning feels a slight sense of joy at the coincidence between them, and the slightest touch of affection is a welcome relief.

"Where to go"

But it was asked all together.

Chu Wanning was stunned for a moment, as was Mo Ran.

With that, he said, "As you wish."

Again, it all comes together.

Chu Wanning's fingers are squeezed together in his sleeves with a little blush, his fingers are sweaty, his eyes are dark and hot, but he is looking at Mo Ran calmly and steadily.

Mo Ran couldn't help but grin.

"Everywhere is fine."

Chu Wanning is actually very happy, but he remains accustomed to being light, even though his happiness is not light, it is very strong, like the pale scarlet begonias on the branches.

He said, "Come on then, let's go to town and have a look around and get something to eat."

He didn't even ask Mo Ran how the demon hunting was going, whether it was going well or not; they were now fated and meant for each other in a tacit way, and when he stood outside the bamboo door, looking at Mo Ran in his black clothes, the dark golden curly grass edges brimming with light in the night, he understood that all was well and no words were needed.

Together they went to Wuchang Town.

Over the years, Wuchang Town has grown from a three-cross street to a six-cross street and a five-cross street, almost a full circle in size.

"When I first came to the top of death and life, the doors of every house were closed before nightfall, incense burner ashes were sprinkled outside the courtyard, gossip mirrors were hung on the doors, and spirit-suppressing bells were tied under the eaves." Chu Wanning looked at the scene of people coming and going, and the lanterns coming on, and said, "Nowadays, except for the name of this town, the rest is almost unrecognisable."

Mo Ran laughed, "It's only going to get better from here with the top of death and life."

The two of them walked along the town's repaved green stone main street. Along the way, there were candy blowers, shadow players, expenditure stalls selling snacks and barbecues, and those eating goo dong pots, a wide range of products, and rows of lanterns hanging in the sky street, illuminating the lively night market and the fireworks of the world.

When Mo Ran saw the casserole stall, he remembered that he, Xue Meng and Xia Sini had eaten here together, so he smiled and pulled Chu Wanning with him, "Master, eat this, this one has your favourite soy milk."

They settled into small creaking bamboo chairs, it was cold but the master chef who served the stir-fry was so hot that he moved over, bare-chested and wiping his sweat, and asked, "Two Your Mightiness, what can I get you?"

Chu Wanning said, "Yuanyang pot."

Mo Ran says: "Mushroom consommé pot."

"Don't you want spicy food?"

Mo Ran smiled with downcast eyes, his voice gentle and low, "Want to quit."

Chu Wanning was stunned for a moment, vaguely understanding why Mo Ran was suddenly reluctant to eat spicy food, as if a fish had swam by in the lake and bubbled in the pool of his heart, the water rippling slightly.

"You don't have to quit."

Mo Ran said, "No, I just like it."

""

"Like to quit, want to quit." He glanced at Chu Wanning, the curtain of his thick, deep lashes rustling and falling on the tip of the other man's slightly flushed ear, and smiled.

The second half of the sentence is never spoken again

Want to be like you and have a hot pot where two pairs of chopsticks can reach into a lively pot, no longer one red and one white and clear.

Mo Ran ordered some more stir-fries, but unfortunately the stall didn't do elaborate desserts, so he ordered three cans of soya milk in a fat porcelain jug and sat back to wait for his food to arrive.

The steam from the soup pot rolls up, the fire from the wok rises, shouting and paddling, joking and selfishness, all converge in a lake and a sea of tenderness in this boiling heat of smoke and fire, the fragrance of the food and the warmth of the wine.

The human world is so mundane, the red earth is so lively.

Before Mo Ran was 15 years old, there was no good wine or food to eat because of the famine.

After becoming Emperor of Fairy Tramper, he was above all others, but he still did not have this true peace.

It's all there now.

Suddenly, the fire rises up, and the man at the helm of the spoon is pawing at the dish, and the fire rolls up from the pot, reflecting a delicate copper-coloured oil on the bare-chested man's body.

It was served immediately when it was hot.

"Double crispy with oil," yells the waiter who is on hand.

In his previous life, Fairy Tramper, who could not be impressed by all the delicacies, was somehow provoked to laugh by this "Double Crisp with Oil", his long fingers folded, pointing at the smooth line of his chin, his long, thick eyelashes moving slightly, the light of the five lakes and the four seas all converging on those two curtains of ink, turning the darkness dyed brightly.

Chu Wanning asks, "What are you laughing at?"

"I don't know, it's just a pleasure."

Chu Wanning stopped talking, but the smile of the handsome man across the table was so charming that it somehow made his heart brighten.

After eating, I looked up at the sky and thought it looked as if it was going to rain, but the people down there seemed blissfully unconcerned and continued to spend the glorious evening in an orderly fashion.

They were walking past a lantern shop when Mo Ran suddenly stopped and stood looking over there.

Chu Wanning followed his gaze and it turned out that the old craftsman was carefully framing a pagoda lantern, and there was another very similar one, also finished, with a holder underneath, which was a river lantern.

"Old man, I beg your pardon, please bring me this pagoda lamp."

No price was asked, and Mo Ran was not asked if he liked it.

Chu Wanning walks over and hands the gold leaf to the elderly, hunched over in his old age, who is carefully making the lantern, and then casually hands the river lantern to the apprentice standing behind him.

"Take it."

Mo Ran was surprised and delighted, even a little bewildered: "For me"

Chu Wanning didn't say anything, carrying the half jug of wine he had left over from his meal, he looked around and his eyes fell on the babbling brook in the distance and he headed that way.

The lights are lit and dimmed, and then they come back on with a blaze of glory, winning the solemnity of the pontoon.

Mo Ran, holding a river lantern, murmured, "I've wanted to put it up once since I was a kid, but I can't afford it every year."

"Yeah." Chu Wanning gave him a bland look, "You're the poorest."

Mo Ran smiles.

The river was flowing quietly and gently, Chu Wanning did not want to go down to the stone steps, he was lazy, so he just leaned under the bridge with his arms in a leisurely manner, the white-robed Taoist master leaned against the dark black bridge pillar, holding a wine jug with a bright red spike, tilted his head and took a sip, then turned his face slightly sideways, the red lantern in the corner of the eaves sprinkled the hazy light on his delicate porcelain jade-like face, he looked indifferent, but his gaze had a hidden warmth, just like this. He looked at the happy, clumsy man holding a river lantern on the river bank.

What's the fun in that, silly.

But still, with unblinking eyes, he watched Mo Ran walk to the river, rambling on and on about the pagoda lamp, before finally leaning down and resting it gently on the river's surface, a ray of golden-red light reflecting in the sparkling water, as Mo Ran paddled the water twice, sending the pontoon away.

That day, Mo Ran stood for a long time by the dark river.

It was not a festival and there was no one else on the river to put up the lights except him.

Only the tiny pagoda lantern, emitting a faint and stubborn light, travels far and wide in the cold waters of the long, endless night, then turns into a little trembling, sluggish starfire, finally swallowed up by the darkness and disappears.

Mo Ran just stood there in silence, no one knew what he was thinking.

He saw it through to the end.

Until the great river, no more light.

It's raining, a thunderstorm.

The raindrops beat on the floating weeds, knocking on the pink walls and tiles.

The crowd scattered with laughter and excitement. It is not often in winter that such a sudden downpour occurs, and vendors scramble to cover their pots, pans, tools and utensils with brown tarpaulins and push their carts to scatter in a hurry to escape the torrential rain.

Chu Wanning was a bit bewildered for a while, as the rain was a bit too anxious, even though it was not yet winter.

He stood under the porch bridge, the rain and wind only wetting the corners of his coat a little, but it was Mo Ran who hurried up from the river bank at the bottom, his clothes all wet, his face wet, his eyes wet and dark.

Looking at him, he smiled a little tenderly, and a little embarrassed.

"Open a spell and dry yourself."

"Hmm."

The rain didn't stop Your Mightiness from travelling, especially with masters like Mo Ran and Chu Wanning, who were able to make it back to the top of the Dead with a small knot.

But neither of them opened the knot, but stood side by side under the porch pillars, waiting for the rain to stop.

After waiting for a long time, the rain had no intention of abating, and the sky and earth were foggy and turbulent. The night market, which had been bustling with activity earlier, dissipated in an instant, like a watercolour washed out by the cold rain, a wet ink painting.

Mo Ran said, "It doesn't look like it's going to stop raining."

Chu Wanning said lightly, "It's raining like a disease."

Mo Ran laughed out loud, and after a moment of laughter, turned to Chu Wanning and said, "What to do, we can't go back."

""

Chu Wanning knew he should answer him, "Don't you practice monasticism?" "Won't you open a boundary?" "How come you can't go back?"

But he was silent for a moment, and for some reason did not say a word, but neither did he respond, only looking up in this way, at the blanket of night rain.

His palms were slightly warm and there was some fine sweat between his curled up fingers.

The slightest tremble, the slightest heat, the slightest stain of sweat, fell unobstructed into Mo Ran's hands.

Mo Ran looked at him for a long time and then the knot in his throat twitched: "Master, I... I want to be with you."

The words were on my lips, but I couldn't say them, but my heart was tingling and throbbing, and I couldn't swallow them.

At the end of the day, his dark eyes were wet and hot, and in a sentence, fervent and subtle, subtle and intimate, he whispered, "I mean it's raining too much, so don't go back to the sect tonight, it's such a long way, you'll catch a cold."

Chu Wanning didn't react and froze for a moment saying, "I'm not cold."

"So are you hot?"

"I'm not hot either."

Mo Ran's breath was hot, her chest heaving, and before Chu Wanning could answer, she took his hand, pressed it against her pounding heart and whispered, "I'm hot."

Rain beats the floating duck.

But Chu Wanning saw fire in his eyes, a molten stream and midsummer.

The young man was so anxious that he was almost a little pathetic and cute.

His voice was a little hoarse, "Let's go to the nearest inn, shall we go now."