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0.57% Dumb Husky and His White Cat Shizun (2ha) / Chapter 2: Chapter 2: This Venerable One Lives

Kapitel 2: Chapter 2: This Venerable One Lives

>>warning: 15 year old Mo Ran fucks a prostitute

"My heart had already stilled and my thoughts turned to ash, yet unexpectedly the light of spring shines through the cold night. Could it be that the heavens pity the blade of grass in the secluded valley? Yet I fear only that the world is unpredictable and full of hardships."

A woman's crisp voice passed by his ear, poetic verses rolling like pearls and jade, but all they did was make Mo Ran's head throb, the vein by his brow twitching madly.

"What's with all the noise! Where'd this wailing banshee even come from!

Servants, kick this bitch off the mountain!"

Only after bellowing so did Mo Ran realize with a start that something wasn't right.

…Hadn't he died?

Hatred and coldness, pain and loneliness stabbed at his chest. Mo Ran's eyes flew open.

Everything that had happened right before his death scattered like snow in the wind. He found himself lying on a bed; not the bed at Sisheng Peak, but a bed carved with a dragon and phoenix, the wood smelling heavily of powder.

The old quilt was colored pink and purple, embroidered with mandarin ducks—— the kind of bed one would only find in a whorehouse.

"…"

Mo Ran froze.

He knew where this was.

This was the entertainment district near Sisheng Peak.

So-called entertainment district just meant brothel, easy come easy go.

Mo Ran had had a period of debauchery in his youth, and had spent the greater portion of half a month at this establishment. But this place had been sold and converted into a wine shop when he was twenty-something. How did he end up here of all places after death?

Had he transgressed too much in life, wronged too many people, and so the king of the underworld was punishing him to reincarnate into a whorehouse and take customers?

Mo Ran turned over as his imagination ran wild.

And unexpectedly came face to face with a slumbering person.

"…"

What the hell!!! Why was there a person next to him??

A man, totally naked!

He was lovely and pleasing to the eye, and quite androgynous.

Mo Ran showed no expression, but his heart was full of turmoil. He stared at that pretty boy's face for a while and suddenly remembered.

Wasn't this the boy toy he'd doted on when he was young, named... Rong San?

Or was it Rong Jiu?

It didn't matter if it was San or Jiu, what mattered was, this prostitute got an STD and died years ago, even his bones should've rotted away by now. Yet,

here he was, delicately curled by his side, neck and shoulders dotted with blue and purple, full of love bites.

Mo Ran pulled a long face, lifted the quilt, and peeked downwards.

"…"

This Rong someone, don't know if he's Jiu or San, let's just call him Rong Jiu. Rong Jiu's pretty little body was covered in rope burns, and his pale, tender thighs were still tied intricately with red rope.

Mo Ran stroked his chin: how interesting.

Look at this exquisite rope art, the skilled technique, the familiar scene.

Didn't he fucking do this himself??!!

As a cultivator, he had read about the concept of rebirth. He began to suspect that he had somehow gone back in time.

To confirm his suspicions, Mo Ran found a copper mirror. The mirror was worn, but good enough to vaguely make out his appearance.

Mo Ran had been thirty two when he died, but the face in the mirror was quite young; it was a charming face exuding a youthful arrogance, looking no more than fifteen or sixteen.

There was no one else in the room. Thus, the once cruel ruler of the cultivation world, Evil Tyrant of Bashu, Emperor of the Mortal Realm, Lord of Sisheng Peak, Taxian-Jun Mo Ran himself, after much consideration, expressed his thoughts honestly.

"Fuck…..."

The sleeping Rong Jiu got "fuck"-ed awake.

The pretty thing sat up languidly, the thin quilt sliding off of his shoulder to reveal an expanse of pale skin. He gathered his long, soft hair and, lifting his peach blossom eyes smudged with red ink, he yawned.

"Oh…Mo-gongzi, you're up early today." Mo Ran did not respond. Back then, he had indeed liked Rong Jiu's type: delicate and androgynous. But now, the thirty two year old Taxian-Jun couldn't figure out what the hell he had been thinking to find this kind of man attractive.

"Did you not sleep well last night? Nightmare?"

This Venerable One fucking died, how about that for a nightmare.

Rong Jiu thought his continued silence was because he was in a bad mood,

so he slipped off the bed to stand before the carved window, wrapping his arms around Mo Ran from behind.

"Mo-gongzi, pay attention to me~ what are you spacing out for?"

Mo Ran's face turned blue at this embrace. He wanted nothing more than to rip this hussy off of himself and grant that fragile-looking face some seventeen,

eighteen slaps, but managed to suppress the urge.

He still felt a bit dizzy and uncertain of the situation.

After all, if he really had been reborn, then he couldn't just beat Rong Jiu up out of the blue after spending the previous day all lovey-dovey with him. It would make it seem like he'd lost his marbles. Definitely couldn't have that.

Mo Ran arranged his expression, putting on a pretense of forgetfulness:

"What day is it?"

Rong Jiu stared for a second, then smiled: "Fourth of May."

"Thirty third year?"

"That was last year. It's the thirty fourth year now. They do say that great men tend to be forgetful."

The thirty fourth year…

The gears in Mo Ran's head turned rapidly.

That year, he'd turned sixteen, and had just been identified as the Sisheng Peak Leader's long-lost nephew, transforming from a pathetic, bullied dog to a phoenix on the branch overnight.

So then, he really had been reborn?

Or, was it just a hollow dream in death…

Rong Jiu smiled: "Mo-gongzi is so hungry he doesn't even remember the date anymore. Wait here a minute, I'll go fetch some food. How does fried pancake sound?"

Mo Ran had just been reborn, and wasn't sure how to deal with all of this yet. But, it should be fine if he just followed the same approach as before. So he thought back to his charismatic style back then and, suppressing his disgust, playfully pinched Rong Jiu's thigh.

"Sounds delicious! I want congee too, and I want you to feed me."

Rong Jiu pulled on some clothes and left, soon returning with a tray carrying a bowl of pumpkin congee, two youxuan pastries, and a plate of side dish.

Mo Ran happened to be a bit hungry and was about to dig into the pastries when Rong Jiu brushed his hand away: "Allow me to serve Gongzi."

"..."

Rong Jiu picked up a pancake and sat on Mo Ran's lap. He wore nothing but a thin robe, legs spread wide open and flush against Mo Ran, even rubbing against him now and again without subtlety.

Mo Ran stared at his face.

Rong Jiu thought he was getting horny again: "What're you staring at me for? The food's going to get cold."

Mo Ran was silent for a moment. Remembering the "good deed" Rong Jiu had done behind his back in his previous lifetime, the corners of his lips curved into a sweet smile.

He, the great Taxian-Jun, was no stranger to disgusting acts. As long as he felt like it, there was nothing too disgusting for him to do. This right now was merely putting on a show; mere child's play.

Mo Ran casually leaned back against the chair, smiling. "Sit."

"I…I'm already sitting."

"You know where I'm telling you to sit."

Rong Jiu blushed. "Why the rush, how about Gongzi finishes eating fir-...ah!"

Before he could even finish, Mo Ran pulled him forward and pressed him back down. Rong Jiu's hand shook and knocked over the bowl of congee. He managed between gasps, "Mo-gongzi, the bowl…"

"Doesn't matter."

"B-but you should still eat first...… nn... ah..."

"Aren't I eating right now?" Mo Ran held onto his waist, the sight of Rong Jiu's extended neck and lovely visage reflected in his pitch black pupils.

In his previous lifetime, he'd liked to kiss those captivating red lips during intimacy. After all, Rong Jiu was pretty and knew just the right words to say. It would be a lie to say that Mo Ran had never felt anything for him.

But now that Mo Ran knew what these lips had done behind his back, he found them unbearably foul, and definitely had no interest in kissing them.

The thirty two year old Mo Ran was different from the sixteen year old Mo Ran in many aspects.

For example, the sixteen year old him still knew gentleness in love and intimacy. However, the thirty two year old him had only violence left.

Afterwards, looking at Rong Jiu who had passed out from getting fucked to within an inch of his life, his tumultuous eyes curved faintly, even carrying a hint of a sweet smile. He was very good-looking when he smiled, eyes a deep, rich black with a sheen of arrogant purple from certain angles. Right now, he dragged Rong Jiu onto the bed by his hair, and casually picked up a shard of the broken bowl from the ground, holding it by Rong Jiu's face.

He had always avenged every grievance; right now was no different.

Thinking about how much he had taken care of Rong Jiu and his business in the last lifetime, how he'd even thought about buying his freedom, and how Rong Jiu had paid him back by scheming against him with others, his eyes couldn't help but curve into a smile as he pressed the shard against Rong Jiu's cheek.

This person's body was his business; without this face, he would have nothing.

He would be forced to wander the streets like a dog, to crawl on the ground, get kicked, and suffer all kinds of spurn and abuse…he was so delighted by the mere thought that even the disgust he felt from fucking this person just now vanished like smoke.

Mo Ran's smile became even more lovely.

Just a tad of pressure, and a thread of blood, captivatingly red, seeped out.

The unconscious person seemed to have felt the pain and groaned softly in a hoarse voice, looking quite pitiful, with tears still clinging to his eyelashes.

Mo Ran's hand suddenly stopped.

He remembered a dear friend.

"..."

Then, he suddenly realized what he was in the middle of doing. It took a few seconds of him being in a daze before he finally, slowly, lowered his hand.

He had done so much evil that it had become habitual. He even forgot that he had been reborn.

Right now, everything had yet to happen, the irrevocable mistakes had not yet been committed, and that person…still lived. There was no need to walk the same cruel path; he could do it over.

He sat down and propped his foot on the bed, absentmindedly toying with the piece of broken porcelain in his hand. Suddenly noticing the oily pancake that still sat on the table, he grabbed it, peeled off the wax paper, and tore into it with his teeth, eating until crumbs flew everywhere and his lips got shiny with grease.

The pancake was this brothel's specialty. It was nothing special, especially compared to the delicacies he tasted later on. But ever since this place had gone bankrupt, Mo Ran never got to eat it again. Now, the familiar taste of the pancake, through the turbulent events of the past, once again returned to the tip of his tongue.

The unreal feeling of rebirth lessened with every swallow.

By the time he finished the pancake, he finally woke up from the stupor he had been in this whole time.

He really had been reborn.

Everything hateful in his life, everything that he couldn't take back, all of it had not yet come to pass.

He had not yet killed his uncle and aunt, not yet razed seventy two cities to the ground, not yet betrayed his teacher and ancestors, not yet gotten married, not yet…

No one had died yet.

He savored the taste in his mouth, licking along his teeth and feeling the thread of joy in his chest ballooning rapidly into a feverish excitement. He'd rebuked Heaven and Earth in his last life, dipping into all three of the forbidden techniques of the human realm. He had mastered each of the other two; only the last one, "rebirth", had eluded him regardless of his talent.

Unexpectedly, that which he had failed to obtain in life fell effortlessly into his lap in death.

All the distaste, the repugnance, the desolation, the loneliness, all of his complicated feelings from his previous life were locked in his chest. The sight of the army marching on Sisheng Peak, fire lit for ten thousand fathoms, still remained in his mind.

That time, he really had not wanted to live anymore. The people all said that his very existence cursed all who came close to him, that he was fated to die alone. Everyone had turned their backs on him. Toward the end, even he himself had felt like the walking dead: senseless, lonesome.

He didn't know what had gone wrong and where, for an irredeemably wicked person like himself to get the chance to redo everything after ending his own life.

Why destroy Rong Jiu's face over such a measly grudge from so long ago?

Rong Jiu loves money. He would just not pay this time, and take some silver on top, to teach him a lesson. As for his life, he didn't want that burden just yet.

"I'm letting you off easy, Rong Jiu."

Mo Ran said with a smile, tossing the porcelain shard out the window.

Then he emptied out Rong Jiu's jewels and valuables, tucking all of it into his pouch. He took his time dressing and arranging himself before leisurely strolling out of the place.

Uncle, aunt, cousin Xue Meng, Shizun, and…

Mo Ran's eyes softened at the thought of that person.

Shige[6], I'm coming.

[6] Older martial brother


AUTORENGEDANKEN
Bettygift Bettygift

Author’s Notes:

This story’s ship is: Mo Ran x Shizun There is a white lotus Shige, do not board the wrong ship.

next chapter

Kapitel 3: Chapter 3: This Venerable One's Shige

>>warning: violence/gore involving children

Hm… since his soul had been transported back in time, maybe his cultivation had come along for the ride too?

Mo Ran recited an incantation and felt the spiritual energy in his body rush forth. It was abundant, but not strong. That was to say, his cultivation had not carried over.

No matter. He was smart and perceptive, and blessed with innate talent; he could just cultivate all over again, it was no big deal. Rebirth was a blessed event of unparalleled proportions, some small imperfection was perfectly normal. Thinking so, Mo Ran quickly rearranged his gloomy and fierce expression into one more appropriate for a sixteen year old youth, and cheerfully headed back toward his sect.

It was the midst of summer. Horse-drawn carriages sped past, wheels rolling, and no one paid any attention to the sixteen year old Mo Ran.

Only the occasional village woman, taking a break from tending the fields and looking up to wipe her sweat, would notice this exceptionally handsome youth and stare a bit.

Mo Ran returned the stares with a smile and no restraint, until those married women blushed bright red and looked away.

Mo Ran arrived at Wuchang Town around evening. The town was close to Sisheng Peak, the towering peaks in the distance framed by clouds lit on fire by the blood-red sun. He touched his empty stomach and headed into a restaurant. Glancing at the menu and knocking on the counter, he placed a quick order. "Shopkeep, a pounded chicken, a plate of beef tripe in chili sauce, two catties of soju, and a plate of sliced beef."

This area was a popular rest stop, and it was currently bustling with activity. A storyteller was on the stage, shaking his fan and telling the story of Sisheng Peak in an animated manner, spit flying everywhere.

Mo Ran picked a private room by a window, and listened as he ate.

"As I'm sure everyone already knows, the cultivation world is divided into the upper and lower cultivation realms. Today we'll talk about the greatest sect in the lower cultivation realm, Sisheng Peak. Did you know that a hundred years ago, our Wuchang Town was a poor and desolate place due to its proximity to the entrance of the demon realm? No one dared to go out after dark. If they really needed to travel at night, then they had to shake an exorcism bell and sprinkle incense ash and paper money while chanting, 'people barred by mountains, demons barred by paper' while passing through as quickly as they could. But these days, our town is bustling and flourishing, no different from anywhere else,

and it's all thanks to Sisheng Peak's care. This righteous sect stands right at the gate to the demon realm, between the boundary of yin and yang. Even though the sect was only established not that long ago…"

Mo Ran had heard this history so many times that his ears had damn near grown calluses, and so he started glancing around outside the window instead. It just so happened that right then, there was a stall set up below where several strangers from out of town, dressed in cultivator garb, were carrying a cage covered with a black cloth as they performed streetside tricks.

This was much more interesting than the storyteller's tale.

Mo Ran's attention was drawn over.

"Come one, come all! Take a look at these pixiu cubs, fierce mythical beasts tamed by us to obediently perform tricks and even do math! It's not easy travelling to perform chivalrous deeds, everyone spare some tips and stick around. Come watch the first trick——pixiu abacus!"

The cultivators ripped off the black cloth with a flourish to reveal a couple of human-faced, bear-bodied monsters in the cage.

Mo Ran: "......"

Just meek fuzzy bear cubs like these?? And you actually dared claim that they're pixiu???

That was quite the bullshit right there, only donkey brains would believe that.

But Mo Ran's views were widened soon enough, as twenty, thirty donkey brains gathered to watch, cheering and clapping, drawing the attention of everyone in the restaurant as well, making things quite awkward for the storyteller.

"The leader of Sisheng Peak right now is a man known far and wide for his strength and brilliance——"

"Nice!! Again!!!"

Encouraged, the storyteller glanced toward the owner of the voice, only to find a customer whose face glowed red with excitement, but whose gaze was locked onto the street performers below, not on himself.

"Oh? The pixiu is doing math on the abacus?"

"Wow, quite impressive!"

"Good show! Make the pixiu toss apples again!"

The entire restaurant was laughing, everyone gathered by the windows to watch the scene below. The storyteller pathetically tried to carry on: "The master is best known for that fan of his, he…..."

"Ahahaha, that light-colored pixiu wants to eat the apple, look at it rolling around on the ground!"

The storyteller wiped his face with a towel, his lips trembling from anger.

Mo Ran pursed his lips and smiled, leisurely calling out from behind the bead curtain, "Forget Sisheng Peak, tell a story from "Eighteen Caresses" instead, I guarantee it'll pull everyone's attention back."

The storyteller didn't know that the person behind the curtain was the young master of Sisheng Peak, Mo Ran himself, and gathered all the moral integrity he had to stutter out, "V-vulgar stories are not f-fit for an elegant hall."

Mo Ran laughed. "You're calling this place an elegant hall? How are you not embarrassed."

A burst of noise came from below.

"Ah! What a fast horse!"

"Must be a cultivator from Sisheng Peak!"

In the midst of the chatter, a black horse galloped from the direction of Sisheng Peak and broke into the streetside circus like lightning!

There were two people on the horse, one wearing a black bamboo hat and shrouded in a black cloak, covered so completely that it was impossible to tell their age or gender. The other was a thirty or forty year old woman, with rough hands and a weathered face.

The woman started crying as soon as she saw the man-bears. She scrambled off the horse and stumbled toward them, kneeling to embrace one of them in her arms, wailing, "My son!!! Oh, my son—"

The audience was stumped. Someone muttered while scratching his head, "Eh? Aren't these pixiu cubs? Why's this woman calling it son?"

"Maybe it's a pixiu mother?"

"Aiyo, that's quite something then, if the female can even take on a human form."

These villagers had no knowledge or experience, and were only babbling nonsense, but Mo Ran figured it out immediately.

Rumor had it that some cultivators out there liked to abduct children, rip their tongues out so that they couldn't talk, burn their skin off with boiling water, and then stick animal hides on their bloodied bodies so that child and fur became one once the blood had congealed, looking just like a monster. These children couldn't speak or write, and had no choice but to suffer the abuse and obediently perform tricks like "pixiu abacus"; any resistance would only earn them a beating.

No wonder he hadn't sensed any demonic energy, these "pixiu" weren't monsters at all, but actually living humans...…

While he was thinking to himself, the person in the black cloak whispered something to the cultivators, who flew into a fury. "Apologize? That ain't in my vocabulary!" "So what if you're from Sisheng Peak?" "Mind your own damn business! Beat him up!" They pounced on the black cloaked person for a beating.

"Aiyo."

Watching his fellow disciple get beat up, Mo Ran only let out a low chuckle. "How scary."

He had zero intention of helping out. He'd always loathed the righteous and meddlesome ways of his sect, even in the previous life. The lot of them rushed to throw themselves at any trouble that cropped up, like so many idiots. Even some minor inconvenience like Mrs. Wang's cat getting stuck in the tree was something to bother them with. The entire sect, from the leader all the way down to the servants, every last one of them was a dimwit.

There were so many unfair things in the world, what do you care? It was enough to tire a person to death.

"They're fighting, they're fighting! Hoh! What a punch!"

Inside and outside the restaurant, everyone gathered to spectate.

"So many of you ganging up on one person, aren't you ashamed!"

"Watch out behind you sir! Aiya! Close call! Wah——"

"Nice dodge!"

These people loved a good fight, but Mo Ran didn't care to watch. He'd seen plenty of blood-letting; the events currently unfolding were like a fly's buzzing to him. He lazily dusted peanut crumbs off his clothes and got up to leave.

Downstairs, the cultivators and the black cloaked person were at a stalemate, swords swishing. Mo Ran crossed his arms and leaned against the restaurant's door, took one glance and clicked his tongue in annoyance.

What a disgrace.

Everyone from Sisheng Peak was a fierce fighter, each the equal of ten men, but the black cloaked person was a pathetic fighter. Even when dragged off the horse, surrounded and kicked, the person was still holding back.

They only called out politely, "Honorable men speak with their mouths, not their fists. I'm trying to reason with you, why won't you listen?!"

Cultivators: "......"

Mo Ran: "......"

The cultivators were thinking, the hell? This person's already so soundly thrashed and still preaching that nonsense? He must have mantou for brains, empty inside?

But Mo Ran's face changed abruptly, his head spinning for a second. He held his breath, eyes wide with disbelief——that voice…

"Shi Mei!" Mo Ran shouted and rushed forward, agitated. He let loose an attack filled with spiritual power that instantly knocked away five of the jianghu cultivator swindlers, and knelt on the ground to help up the black cloaked person who was covered in muddy boot marks, and his voice couldn't help but tremble slightly——

"Shi Mei, is that you?"


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