Chapter Text
“I know how most of us feel about the realm of the gods,” Mo Ran’s uncle addresses them in a placating tone, “But try to reign it in a little around him. I’m…not sure what he is, exactly—and as young as he looks, if he is from the realm above, then a pissed off god really isn’t something Sisheng can afford right now.”
“Then why take him in?” Mo Ran asks his uncle in part confusion, part irritation, “Just redirect him to Rufeng or something, I’m sure the likes of him will be happier there.”
Xue Zhengyong lets out an uncharacteristic sigh that implies that there’s something Mo Ran isn’t getting, “It’s…complicated. Just think of it as diplomacy training.”
That was rich, considering who it was coming from, Mo Ran thinks dryly to himself.
“Why do we have to babysit him?” Xue Meng whines from the side, “I have better things to do, you know the tournament’s coming soon dad!”
“You don’t all have to be with him,” Xue Zhengyong clarifies, “He just needs to have someone with him occasionally, so that it wouldn’t be too difficult to settle in here.”
“And to keep a close eye over his movements?” Shi Mei pipes up from the side, who has been quiet since the start of the conversation until now.
“No,” Xue Zhengyong says in a pondering tone, “I don’t think there’s any need for that.”
—
The moment Mo Ran first meets Chu Wanning, what he sees is perhaps nothing and everything he expected all at once.
For one, Mo Ran did hear from his uncle that their charge was young in looks, younger than even them. It was a bit uncanny, when he knows this “teenager” has probably lived ten times as long as most of the people here in the mortal realm.
Mo Ran was also ready to behold something beyond mortal expectations. While he was no stranger to seeing beauties that make you weak at the knees at the sight, he really didn’t expect the reaction he had.
The moment Chu Wanning turned to look at him and locked eyes with him, he felt all air out of his lungs be sucked out; he could swear that his heart jumped a beat, before suddenly beating wildly out of his chest.
The sudden pause even made his cousin turn to him in mild worry, “What’s wrong?”
But Mo Ran could scarcely hear him, for his undivided attention was for the one in front of him, gazing back at him with a gentle pair of eyes that made him want this moment to never cease.
Gods, goddesses, demi-gods, all sorts of powerful beings—they were a constant in the three realms, and so was their indifference to the mortal realm. Perhaps only the late god of spring was the exception. This one was hardly the first god he’s met, after all, he has been unfortunate enough to have once met his father.
Yet at this moment, Mo Ran finally understands what it was that his human ancestors felt, when they first beheld divinity and yearned to worship the gods at their feet in veneration, all those millennia ago.
Mo Ran has never thought such a delicate type of beauty could ever be described as awe-inspiring or astonishing, but there was no other way to put it.
The fragile moment shatters when those eyes turn sharp and look to the side. Chu Wanning crosses his arms, and speaks in a haughty tone, “It’s rude to stare, do you not have any manners?”
Mo Ran can feel the tender bud of affection slowly blooming wither instantly at the pretentious tone. Of course, such lofty features naturally came with an equally haughty personality. Gods were predictable in that sense, after all.
“Sorry about my cousin, he gets a bit weird sometimes,” Xue Meng swoops in, side-eyes him with a look that says ‘bro what the fuck’ and makes the introductions for the three of them.
—
The following weeks do nothing to endear this arrogant little god to Mo Ran at all. Every action of his reeked of self-importance; how he would keep to himself, not once bothering to interact with the other inhabitant in Sisheng who comes all the way to talk to him. He would accept their introductions and reciprocate, but only to that extent—any small talk or attempts at further interactions are met with an indifferent stare.
Chu Wanning sat with them a grand total of once, during meal times. Mo Ran wasn’t even sure if gods needed to eat—while he technically counted as a demi-god, he didn’t feel any different from other mortals in his needs, so he doesn’t know what it’s like for a full-blooded one. But Chu Wanning hasn’t stepped foot in Mengpo Hall after the first time.
Mo Ran noted that Chu Wanning did have a less than favorable reaction over the food they served. It was a ridiculous attitude, but what would they expect from someone who wasn’t from this realm? The only ones probably greatly affected were only the mortals, after all. Crops were scarcer than they were a millennium ago, but at least it wasn’t literally non-existent as five centuries ago, before the god of spring performed the ritual that revitalized the decaying, withered land.
Even interactions with the three of them were extremely limited, though Chu Wanning sometimes entertained Xue Meng’s ridiculous questions, Mo Ran notes with a hint of bitterness. The only time Chu Wanning would willingly seek them out was when he needed someone to accompany him outside, which he only did since Xue Zhengyong forbade him from going anywhere without a chaperone, and Mo Ran’s uncle was perhaps the only person Chu Wanning liked in Sisheng Peak.
When Chu Wanning goes outside, they would go to places plagued with a wicked miasma, and he would purify them with a cleansing ritual using his qin, which he calls ‘Jiu’ge’. While the results weren’t instantaneous, at the very least, it gave the land an opportunity to finally slowly reinvigorate itself. The displaced citizens can at least rebuild little by little once more.
Mo Ran would find it admirable, what this little god was doing for Sisheng, if he wasn’t too busy being annoyed at how they’re being treated like incompetent tag-alongs every time they go out on these expeditions.
He would always walk in front of the three of them, and take out whatever demons or hostile creatures come their way, never letting any of them even lift a finger. It was obvious he was making a point; that he was only suffering their presence because the Sect Leader required it of him.
Mo Ran challenged him once over it, when he was feeling particularly irate. The answer only worsened his opinion further.
“I am not like you people,” Chu Wanning had replied tonelessly. From the height difference, he was looking up at Mo Ran, yet it felt like he was the one looking down pridefully at Mo Ran all the same, “It is better not to risk it.”
Xue Meng and Shi Mei were the only ones that prevented him from saying something that probably would have invoked divine wrath.
The nerve. The sheer high and mighty attitude, thinking himself completely above mortals—it was typical and expected, yet Mo Ran felt disappointed all the same. It was maddening, being treated like a useless, incompetent waste of space. Mo Ran knows he shouldn’t let it get to him—he knew his worth, he knew the three of them commanded respect in different ways due to their respective abilities, and Chu Wanning knew nothing about them, but the desire to prove him wrong was still nagging at Mo Ran.
—
An encounter with a stronger than expected demon goes awry, well for Chu Wanning, at least—Mo Ran wants to say that he’s above feeling petty vindication, but his face probably looked too smug when he turned to look to Chu Wanning after the three of them manage to dispatch the demon. Though one of its weird parasitic offspring did manage to bite Mo Ran—but the wound was taken care of quickly by Shi Mei afterwards.
Speaking of, it seems like their healer was having trouble with their arrogant charge.
“There’s no need,” Chu Wanning puts a hand in front of him, looking at Shi Mei stonily, “I heal quickly.”
“Are you really going to be uppity even over this?” Mo Ran snorts derisively, eyeing Chu Wanning’s rare unkempt appearance from being injured, “You should be grateful Shi Mei’s even offering, after that spectacle. That’s what you get for your hubris—do you really think you’re that above us?”
A wave of something unfamiliar initially, but he would now describe as hurt mixed with something inscrutable washes over him—it catches Mo Ran off-guard. What in the hell was that?
“Ge, shut up,” Xue Meng hisses beside him, “Remember what dad said. And I don’t think that’s the case—”
“I said I’m fine,” Chu Wanning snaps back, with all the fire in his eyes, “Let’s go do what we came here for.”
While Chu Wanning was busy preparing for the ritual, Mo Ran takes note of his own situation, ignoring his cousin’s scolding rant.
The strange, phantom feeling was still present. Now that he was paying closer attention, he thinks he feels an echo of a piercing pain on his side—but that made no sense, he didn’t get injured in the fight aside from the parasite thing. When he checked, there was no injury either, as expected.
The sudden wave of a ghost of spreading, searing pain in his chest catches him unaware; Mo Ran clutches at his chest, his breath knocked out of him for a second.
“Are you alright, did you get injured somewhere else?” Xue Meng looks worriedly at Mo Ran’s hand clutching his chest, waving for Shi Mei to come inspect Mo Ran.
“No, I don’t know,” Mo Ran responds honestly, if confusedly, “I’m feeling some strange things but…I’m not injured, I checked.”
“You’re right,” Shi Mei says after inspecting his qi circulation, “Though there is something strange in your qi I can’t pinpoint. Best get to Tanlang soon.”
The burning sensation in his chest finally eases slowly, after a good few minutes; Chu Wanning comes up to them soon after, and Mo Ran’s glad their charge didn’t witness his minor stumble earlier. It would probably only further convince him that Mo Ran was incompetent or whatever.
“Done?” Mo Ran asks, despite knowing the answer. Chu Wanning only nods, and turns around to lead the way back to Sisheng. Mo Ran scoffs internally at the dismissiveness. Whatever, he should be used to it at this point.
—
Tanlang takes one look at Chu Wanning, and Mo Ran sees the moment the man’s expression sours. He’s a bit taken aback at the shameless hostility—even Mo Ran wasn’t as bold.
“You went out again today?” Tanlang all but pushes their charge to sit on an unoccupied bed, “I told you to space it out to once a week, are you looking to never getting out of Sisheng for the rest of the month?”
“I’m not here for me,” Chu Wanning swats away Tanlang’s hands, “Check them over.”
“Have you never heard of the word please?” Tanlang remarks derisively, “Stay there. If you leave, I’m telling Xue Zhengyong you’re unfit to go out.”
“What’s wrong with you three?” Tanlang turns to them, eyeing them critically, “None of you look injured. I’m busy, don’t waste my time.”
“It’s A-Ran,” Shi Mei answers for Mo Ran when he doesn’t respond, too busy thinking about what Tanlang said to Chu Wanning…that was curious, wasn’t it? “There’s something odd about his qi, and I can’t be sure what it is.”
“Hm. You’re a magnet for trouble, aren’t you?” Tanlang says after checking Mo Ran over, but he’s looking at Chu Wanning as he speaks, “As for you. What feels weird? Tell me in detail.”
“Uh…earlier, there was a strange feeling, I can’t describe it, but afterwards there were some echoes of pain? But I’m not injured, as you noticed—” Mo Ran tries to explain, but Tanlang just cuts him off, telling him to describe it further, “Something painful on my left side, it’s still present—and some odd burning pain on my chest for a few minutes. It passed though.”
“Now that I’m paying attention…” Mo Ran notes with a bit of uncertainty, “I think I feel mildly nauseous, or light-headed? My limbs feel heavier than usual, too—oh the weird feeling is back, but it feels different…”
“Thank you, that’s enough,” Tanlang twists him around and stabs him in the neck with something. Mo Ran would be surprised, if he wasn’t used to the old man’s quick and efficient way of healing, “You’ve been more helpful than my actual patient.”
“That should help get rid of the parasite in a few hours,” Tanlang’s attention is already away from him, refocusing back on Chu Wanning, “I can take care of the remaining phantom pain, if this one will cooperate.”
The odd feeling was back—what the hell. Mo Ran can feel a strange dread and resignation wash over him—and he knows those aren’t his emotions.
“You have no reason to refuse, since your pain is affecting someone else,” Tanlang addresses Chu Wanning—and it takes a good second for it to click within Mo Ran’s brain, “Are you going to continue being difficult?”
Mo Ran feels a pang of guilt, and he has to wonder whether it was from Chu Wanning or his own feelings. Which was ridiculous, what did Mo Ran have to feel guilty about?
Maybe the fact that their charge has apparently been seeing the healer regularly, and they never knew?
Or was it that Mo Ran thought Chu Wanning couldn’t feel pain, or at least felt it less acutely than they did—or was it that Mo Ran assumed he couldn’t feel anything at all, not hurt, guilt, resignation, all the emotions that made someone human.
“Wait…” Mo Ran suddenly realizes something, “Is this a two-way thing? What’s causing it?”
Tanlang only hums sarcastically in agreement, not bothering to elaborate, and Mo Ran can feel his heart drop to his stomach. While he knows this was as invasive for Chu Wanning, probably more, as it was for Mo Ran…considering the turn of events, he feels doubly guilty about the situation.
“What’s a two-way thing?” Xue Meng asks, looking at everyone in confusion—though no one bothers clarifying.
“Let’s get this over with,” Chu Wanning says in his usual indifferent tone, yet Mo Ran feels something else accompany it now—a mounting sense of anxiety and guilt, “I do not enjoy this more than you do.”
“Finally,” Tanlang turns back to them, “You three can go. Leave me to deal with this one.”
“Wait,” Mo Ran wasn’t about to just let it go like this, “Aren’t we supposed to watch over him? Someone should stay with him.”
“Why start now?” Tanlang replies perplexedly, though he sounded as annoyed as ever, “Just go, or he’ll just be more difficult if there’s someone else watching.”
The moment the door shuts on their faces, Mo Ran can feel an echo of simultaneous relief and…was it…longing? Loneliness? Whatever it was, it felt like a form of sadness anyway. That was…unexpected, very unexpected.
Did Chu Wanning actually like their company? Or was it over something else? Mo Ran is probably never going to stop overthinking this whole thing until it passes.
—
That night, Mo Ran starts feeling worse, but he knows it wasn’t from himself; when he’s about to go to sleep, he feels chills start to crawl over his body, and his temperature drops suddenly before surging up blisteringly—it was like all the veins in his body was filled with molten lava, the pain was searing, and Mo Ran can only imagine what it actually felt like first-hand.
Mo Ran knocks on Chu Wanning’s door, feeling mildly foolish—even if Chu Wanning wanted to answer, he probably would be unable to get out of bed right now.
Surprisingly, or maybe not—his aunt opens the door instead.
“Ran-er,” Madam Wang addresses him in mild surprise, “What brings you here at this hour? Maybe it can wait tomorrow?”
“How is he?” Mo Ran speaks in quiet tone, just in case Chu Wanning was asleep, “Did he tell auntie about the parasite we encountered?”
“No, but Tanlang did,” Madam Wang replies in a similarly hushed tone, closing the door behind her gently, “He just fell asleep—how about you, are you alright, Ran-er? Any other lingering symptoms?”
“I’m fine, I don’t think it’s me we should be worried about,” Mo Ran chuckles ruefully, “Does this…happen a lot? Why does it feel like his entire body’s on fire?”
“Ah…” Madam Wang acknowledges, realizing his implication, “It’s the purification ritual…the miasma has to go somewhere…and A-Ning refuses to let it go anywhere else where it could spread more.”
Mo Ran feels nauseous at his epiphany over his aunt’s following words, “So he purifies the energy within himself, and reuses it later on to aid in the other cleansing rituals—but it takes a long, painful time to do it…there’s only so much impure energy he can contain at once, especially since it’s completely at odds with his divine energy…”
“That’s…that’s what Tanlang meant then…why he should only be going out once a week,” Mo Ran asks, but it’s posed more as a statement, “Is it dangerous?”
“Not to others,” Madam Wang seems to misunderstand his meaning, placing a placating hand over his shoulder, “Don’t worry, A-Ning would never let that miasmic energy break free.”
“That’s not what I meant, auntie,” Mo Ran knows he’s been very uncharitable towards Chu Wanning, but he didn’t want him to be in pain or die, “Is it dangerous to him?”
“Oh, well…normally…” and Madam Wang’s surprise at his show of care over their charge kind of really stings, combined with Tanlang’s reaction earlier, “All I can say is…it’s better if he takes a break, even just for a month. I don’t think he can continue like this, especially since—but well, there’s no stopping him when he’s made up his mind. Your uncle tries, and sometimes it works, but A-Ning’s stubborn…”
“It should be a good thing, really, since he’s doing it for us, for the rest of the people…” Madam Wang looks at the closed door with a rare melancholic stare, “But that noble heart of his is going to burn himself out quick, if he’s not careful. And I don’t want to see that happen to such a sweet kid—I know he’s probably existed longer than us, but in their ages, he’s probably still very young.”
That left Mo Ran with a lot to ponder about for the rest of the night. Maybe there were certain things he judged too hastily, that left him unable to see something that his aunt and uncle and even Tanlang see so clearly.
Just before he falls asleep, he feels the distinct sudden absence of the second-hand pain and feelings—and Mo Ran realizes that the blanket of anxiety and restlessness weren’t his to begin with, either.
Mo Ran feels oddly bereft, as he lets sleep take its hold—he was starting to get used to it, a bit…and he was admittedly, secretly curious too, just what else Chu Wanning felt under his cold, indifferent facade.
—
“Ran-er!” His uncle’s surprise also hurts, a little bit—was he really that obvious? Just how did Chu Wanning feel then, dealing with Mo Ran’s open disdain, when he didn’t really even do anything wrong? Looking back, Mo Ran did just gawk at him like a dumbass instead of greeting him—they both had terrible impressions of each other, and maybe Mo Ran should have extended an olive branch first…he’s technically the adult between them, relative ages speaking.
“Not going to have breakfast in Mengpo Hall today?” His uncle eyes the tray Mo Ran is holding, “Is there something you needed from A-Ning?”
“I…brought him food,” Mo Ran cringes at the admission—it felt like paltry repayment, for what he’s been doing and suffering for Sisheng, “Is he awake? How is he?”
“Oh,” His uncle blinks at him twice, glances inside once, before continuing, “Yes, he’s awake…”
“Then, pardon the intrusion,” Mo Ran all but elbows his way inside, ignoring his uncle’s half-hearted attempt at stopping him.
Whatever he expected of Chu Wanning’s room to be like, it definitely was not this.
It’s like a whirlwind came through it, and the owner never bothered fixing up the place after; in short, it was a pure chaotic mess.
Chu Wanning himself was sat hunched over a table, blocking the view of whatever he was working on from Mo Ran’s line of sight.
“A-Ning…look who came to visit!” Mo Ran’s uncle exclaims loudly, prompting Chu Wanning to turn around, and Mo Ran notes he had some sort of mechanical tool held between his teeth, what the fuck. Weirdly cute, but also why.
“Frwht?” Chu Wanning says something through the thing in his mouth that Mo Ran can’t decipher, but his uncle must be used to it as he replies, “He brought you breakfast! I’ll leave you two for now, have fun!”
An awkward, tense silence settles the moment his uncle leaves the two of them alone.
“I brought food…” Mo Ran eventually says, looking around for a place to put it, “Something light on the stomach. Is there somewhere I can put this…?”
Chu Wanning eyes him with his usual piercing gaze for a moment, and Mo Ran tries deciphering his look, and wishes the weird feeling-sharing thing was still active, “I’ll make room.”
By making room, he meant pushing half the things on his work table onto the floor…what was up with this kid’s organization skills…
Mo Ran hesitantly puts the tray on the table, carefully making space on the floor opposite to Chu Wanning’s side of the table to sit onto.
“It’s all for you,” Mo Ran comments when Chu Wanning just sits primly while eyeing the food with thinly-veiled curiosity mixed with wariness, “Go ahead. If there’s anything you don’t want don’t worry, it won’t go to waste—I’ll finish it for you.”
Chu Wanning looks up at him in surprise at the latter part of his comment—and what do you know, Mo Ran’s random guess was proven correct, as Chu Wanning actually starts poking at the food and tasting it individually.
It was…unbearably, surprisingly cute, watching Chu Wanning’s minute reactions towards the food, ranging from mildly scrunching his nose up when eating some bitter vegetable, to a surprised little smile at tasting the osmanthus cake. The little smile…really did some things to Mo Ran’s heart. Some weird mushy things.
“What’s this called?” Chu Wanning’s head tilts to the side slightly in curiosity, “I’ve never tasted anything like this before.”
“It’s an osmanthus cake,” Mo Ran eagerly supplies, finally, he found something this kid seems to particularly like eating, “We can get more, if you really like it.”
“I was only curious of what it’s called,” Chu Wanning shakes his head, “This is enough.”
“That’s just one piece, I can get you even at least just one more,” Mo Ran feels his heart squeeze in his chest, “It’s mostly popular amongst children anyway.”
It was meant to be teasing, but Chu Wanning doesn’t even take it as a dig to his young appearance it seems—the comment only earns Mo Ran a faraway look that he can’t decipher.
“Then all the more reason for me to refuse,” Chu Wanning eventually replies, “Such rare treats should be reserved for the children.”
Mo Ran chooses to concede—if this little god actually has a sweet tooth, which is an adorable piece of information, then he can just bring him some other sweet things.
It was also interesting to note how softly Chu Wanning spoke, when Mo Ran wasn’t actively antagonizing him.
Another curious thing was how the only thing left untouched on the tray was the reddest thing—and it wasn’t a tomato, no.
“You don’t like spicy food?” Mo Ran asks, genuinely curious but also wanting to talk about something.
Chu Wanning stills and shoots him a suspicious look, before looking away just as quick, “No.”
Interesting. What an interesting non-reaction. Could it be?
“Are you…” Mo Ran draws out teasingly, causing Chu Wanning to tense, his shoulders drawing up to his ears, “Unable to handle spicy food?”
“So what,” Chu Wanning responds grumpily, “Is that a crime I’m unaware of?”
“In Mengmeng’s opinion, most likely yes,” Mo Ran replies with a light laugh—no wonder Chu Wanning never went back with them to Mengpo Hall, after all, the three of them only served spicy food to their charge that day, “You should have said something, instead of avoiding us.”
“The young master had very strong opinions about it,” Chu Wanning replies glumly, “I wasn’t aware I could not handle ‘spicy’ food until that moment.”
Mo Ran feels kind of guilty now, what a way to find out, “Did you not have spicy food in your realm?”
“We did not have food of any sort,” Chu Wanning clarifies, “Not that I know of.”
“Huh…” Mo Ran did have his suspicions, “So you don’t need to eat like us then?”
“It’s not so straightforward,” Chu Wanning puts a hand under his chin, “I found out that only applies if I am in that realm—it seems I need it just like the rest of you do, when I am in this realm.”
“Ohhh. So maybe if we lived in the realm of the gods, we wouldn't need food either?” Mo Ran wonders aloud—as sad as the thought of not tasting the food he liked was, it would be more convenient, considering the situation in their realm.
“I am not certain,” Chu Wanning says in a strange tone, “I am not like you people. Or the rest of the inhabitants there.”
There was that remark again—only this time, with something else tacked onto it that made Mo Ran pause.
“What do you mean? I thought you were a god?” Mo Ran asks curiously, this time without the hostility that he felt when he first heard Chu Wanning say this.
“No, I’m…I’m not,” Chu Wanning says in a quiet, resigned tone, “I am but a pale imitation of one.”
“What?” Mo Ran internally panics at the uncharacteristic show of insecurity, “You mean, you’re a demi-god? That’s okay, you’re not any less or whatever—”
“No, I meant…I am, quite literally, an imitation of one,” Chu Wanning reiterates, “I was created in the image of the late spring god’s son.”
Mo Ran…really doesn’t like the way Chu Wanning was referring to himself—it bothered him in a strange way he couldn’t pinpoint.
“Your background doesn’t mean that’s all you are,” Mo Ran doesn’t understand the whole situation, but he tries to offer some comfort, “It’s what you make of yourself that matters—I should know.”
“No, I—” Chu Wanning clenches his fist in apparent frustration, before forcefully loosening them and sighing, “Never mind.”
Mo Ran decides not to push further, no matter how curious he is. This was already more than what Chu Wanning has shared with Mo Ran for his entire stay here, after all.
—
Mo Ran takes it upon himself to show Chu Wanning around Sisheng Peak, who has apparently only been to very limited areas, despite Sisheng's size.
Although Chu Wanning doesn't verbally offer praise or amazement, Mo Ran takes note of how he would unconsciously slow down his pace to look around at everything with curiosity and wonder.
The wonder gets tinged with something sad-looking, when they reach the Heaven Piercing Tower, where most of the greenery was struggling to grow.
"I've never seen this tree blossom," Mo Ran lays a hand on the trunk of one of the trees, "But apparently, according to Madam Wang it bloomed fully once, 18 years ago in the late summer. She said the flowers on this tree were particularly beautiful—she's never seen anything like it, even back in Guyue'ye."
The other disciples nearby seem to have overheard Mo Ran's words, as one of them replies, "It would be nice to see it blossom. Wouldn't it be a lovely blessing if it blooms before our wedding?"
"Wishful thinking, but sweet nonetheless," the speaker's partner replies in a giggling tone.
A contemplative hum from Mo Ran's side is all the warning he gets, before Chu Wanning's outstretched palm glows golden.
The golden light eventually gathers into a ball, before swaying to wrap around the tree like ribbons of sunlight, eventually reaching towards the roots where it was planted.
"Oh my," the girl puts a hand over her mouth, "Such a pretty golden light."
It was indeed pretty, but it was almost nothing compared to the miraculous sight that meets them after all the light fills the ground.
A shine of something glittering passes over the grass, which turns from dry patches of yellow to a lush, vibrant green. Some wildflowers even start blooming, causing even Mo Ran to gasp mildly in wonder.
But all of that was still nothing to the sight of the giant haitang tree slowly, fully blooming its flowers into full blossoming. The tender pink buds, slowly, ever so carefully blooming into a five-petaled light pink flower—nearly white in its paleness.
Eventually, everyone else was gathered around the blossoming tree—with varying expressions and exclamations of wonder and disbelief. Some outright cry at the sight—Mo Ran can’t blame them, considering how difficult it was to keep a plant alive, even after the spring god’s ritual to restore vitality to the mortal realm.
“Did…did you do that, my lord?” the girl from earlier asks in a hushed tone, careful not to let anyone overhear.
Chu Wanning hesitates minutely, before nodding.
“Thank you, I—thank you,” the pair responds, holding each other’s hands, “It was probably a little thing for you, but…in a way, it feels like we’re getting a blessing over our marriage…maybe, maybe we can even successfully have a child, someday…”
“For whatever comfort it may bring, I wish you two a lasting marriage, with as many healthy children as you want,” Chu Wanning replies mildly stiltedly, a hand over his chest, which glows mildly golden that dissipates after he speaks.
It doesn’t seem to escape the notice of the pair either—the girl actually does cry, even her partner rubs his eyes in a telling way. They thank him, profusely, to the point that Mo Ran has to drag Chu Wanning away when he starts looking really uncomfortable.
A spring god—they had a precious little spring god with them, of all things, Mo Ran thinks with awe. Did the other gods know about this? How long has it been, why did they never inform the mortal realm…did they keep Chu Wanning away on purpose, after what happened with the last spring god and his family?
Technically, he knows Chu Wanning said he was created in the late spring god’s son’s image…but not every parent and child shared the same domain, and Mo Ran knows the child didn’t even manage to grow up before meeting an untimely, gruesome end.
In the end, Mo Ran decides to just bring Chu Wanning to his residence for the time being. He still wanted to continue the tour later, once Chu Wanning recomposes himself.
"So your domain is over spring, then?" Mo Ran asks with thinly-veiled curiosity, "It probably should have been obvious."
"I don't have domain over anything, I'm no god," Chu Wanning sighs irritably.
"That was…a very kind thing you did, granting their wish like that," Mo Ran notes, letting the whole god thing be for now.
It really was sweet—and very surprising. Mo Ran didn't expect Chu Wanning to entertain such a request, or even have been listening to consider fulfilling it.
"I was going to do it eventually, anyway," Chu Wanning waves him off in a seemingly dismissive tone, which Mo Ran now observes as the tone he uses when he doesn't want anyone to pay attention to his words too closely and hear the underlying care beneath it.
"It meant a lot to them, though," Mo Ran insists, "Especially the actual blessing afterwards…"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Chu Wanning interrupts him a bit too quickly, Mo Ran observes fondly.
"Sure, sure," Mo Ran 'concedes' amusedly, before changing gears, "Should you be using that amount of energy? Aren't you supposed to be resting?"
"Did the Sect Leader tell you that?" Chu Wanning narrows his eyes at Mo Ran, "It was nothing—it was energy that was bound to return to Sisheng, anyway."
Mo Ran remembers his aunt's words, suddenly, "The purified miasmic energy? Maybe we should get auntie to look you over just in case…"
"Did the madam tell you?" Chu Wanning humphs in a betrayed tone, "And I'm fine—no need to fuss over me, I don't need to be taken care of."
Mo Ran recalls the state of Chu Wanning's room, how he apparently was suffering without his own 'guards' knowing, and wonders at the actual truth of that declaration.
"Sure you do, you're still a kid in god years right?" Mo Ran settles for a teasing tone, "I know you've probably seen ten times more winters than I have, but I'm still an adult amongst my species."
"'God years'?" A-Ning repeats dryly, "I've only seen winter once, during my first few days here."
Mo Ran struggles not to laugh at that, "Oh you're only a year old? You're practically a baby then—kidding, I'm kidding!"
Mo Ran lets the pillow hit him in the face, which he takes and sets aside, huffing out an amused laugh.
"It's just a term we use for age…so when you said you've only seen one…well you get it," Mo Ran elaborates when Chu Wanning demands his explanation.
"Do I look so old to you?" Chu Wanning replies, sounding utterly offended, "'Ten times more winter'? Are you implying I look like an old man?!"
"No, what, what the hell?" Mo Ran exclaims confusedly, "Just…don't gods grow up slower?"
"I told you, I am no god," Chu Wanning huffs out frustratedly, "I have existed for 18 years."
What in the gates of Hell was that—
18 years?!
"You really are a baby," Mo Ran accidentally blurts out, dodging another pillow hurled towards him.
"I am an adult by your people's standards," Chu Wanning hisses out, "Why do you have to go to different extremes? I am neither an infant nor am I an ancient old man."
"I never said you were an old man," Mo Ran immediately retorts, despite not having recovered from the knowledge that he's actually, truly, older than his charge, "I just thought it worked differently for immortals."
"I wouldn't know," Chu Wanning finally settles, crossing his arms instead of gearing to throw more pillows at Mo Ran, "I didn't know anyone else, except for my—"
Chu Wanning cuts himself off abruptly, and Mo Ran was about to encourage him to continue, until he sees the shadow of something unpleasant on Chu Wanning's face.
…hurt? Grief? Sadness? Anger? Longing? Mo Ran can only hazard a guess which of those were correct.
"Maybe all of us really should just call you A-Ning," Mo Ran intones teasingly, trying to shake Chu Wanning out of his stupor, "Nearly everyone on Sisheng's older than you."
"I don't mind," the tension within Chu Wanning loosens minutely, Mo Ran notes, "You're the ones insisting on calling me lord or whatever."
Aw, cute, he was losing his formal language. Despite the more openly annoyed tone, Mo Ran found he prefers it infinitely to A-Ning's forced apathetic tone.
"It's settled then," Mo Ran smiles at him indulgently, "I'll call you A-Ning from now on. Say…"
A-Ning must have heard something in his tone, as he looks up at Mo Ran with apprehension.
"Shouldn't you call me gege?" Mo Ran remarks blithely, "I'm older than you by a decade—hey wait, don't leave, I was just teasing!"
Well—if A-Ning warms up to the idea, he wouldn't discourage it, Mo Ran thinks to himself in secret. Alright, he would probably encourage it. A lot.