The autumn wind was bleak, and the big tree in the yard had shed a layer of yellow leaves. Luo Wangshu rested his chin on one hand as he watched the man on the rattan chair seriously sewing clothes.
Mo Li was a big grown man. He could swing a hoe and also handle an embroidery needle, while Luo Wangshu, as a modern person, seemed mostly useless aside from braiding little Li Miaomiao’s hair, sweeping fallen leaves, and washing clothes.
Mm… did taking spirit herbs out of his space to treat Mo Li’s headaches count as being useful?
The tiny embroidery needle obediently danced across the fabric in those large hands. Compared to getting new clothes, Luo Wangshu was even more fascinated by the fact that Mo Li could embroider. The way he focused so carefully—no matter how he looked at it, he couldn’t get enough. Honestly, the scene was strangely harmonious.
“Wife, I’m thirsty.” Mo Li looked up at the drowsy Luo Wangshu, his tone carrying an almost imperceptible hint of acting spoiled.
Hearing that, Luo Wangshu quickly got up to scoop water. After all, his new clothes were in Mo Li’s hands. If they turned out ugly, wouldn’t he cry himself to death in a corner? With their current financial situation, buying another bolt of cloth was completely impossible.
A son sewing clothes while the daughter-in-law waited beside him—this kind of thing almost never happened in other families. No matter how unvirtuous someone married into the family was, they would at least know some needlework. A decorative vase like Luo Wangshu, who couldn’t lift heavy things or carry burdens, was, according to Mo Fang, the sort only a fool like Mo Li would dare bring home.
“Grandpa, I came to help pick herbs.” A timid voice sounded at the door. Mo Fang, who was sitting in the yard carefully sorting medicinal herbs, didn’t even lift his head as he gave a simple “Mm.”
Luo Wangshu handed the ladle of water to Mo Li and curiously looked at the child entering through the doorway. The child wore ragged gray clothes, his face sallow and thin, hair dry and brittle. The only thing worth looking at on him was his pair of ink-black eyes.
“Not going to gather firewood today?” Mo Fang casually asked.
Li Guang smiled shyly. “There’s plenty of firewood at home. It’s okay if I skip today.”
Hearing that, Mo Fang said nothing more, and the two silently began sorting herbs together with practiced coordination.
Because Mo Fang usually treasured his herbs like his own eyes, the fact that he let this child get close so casually made Luo Wangshu glance at him a few more times.
“That’s Xiao Guang. Dad likes teaching him to recognize herbs. He’s basically his apprentice,” Mo Li said while cutting fabric.
Luo Wangshu suddenly understood. Mm, no wonder they worked together so smoothly. Actually, there was one thing he had never understood. Looking at Mo Fang’s features, he definitely wasn’t ugly. When he was younger, he was probably quite handsome. So why hadn’t he married and had children? He didn’t seem like someone who disliked kids. Luo Wangshu wanted to gossip with Mo Li about it, but unfortunately, Mo Li didn’t know anything about why Mo Fang never married either.
“Doctor Mo!” Someone hurriedly ran over from the doorway. Luo Wangshu only glanced over once. Since he didn’t know the person, just looking was enough.
Mo Fang looked up. “What’s wrong?”
“Li Shitou got bitten by a snake in the fields. Nobody dares touch him. The wound’s already turning black.” The man spoke while panting hard, beads of sweat covering his forehead and streaming down his face.
Mo Fang frowned slightly. “Did you see what the snake looked like?”
The man thought carefully before answering, “I only saw the back half of the tail. It was black. That snake ran really fast.”
After hearing that, Mo Fang strode toward his medicine room. Li Guang silently moved his little legs and followed behind him.
“Should we go take a look too? What if people blame Dad again if someone dies?” Luo Wangshu nudged Mo Li’s arm.
Mo Li kept working as he replied calmly, “Other than Zhao Dayuan, everyone in the village trusts Dad’s medical skills. Besides, if you go catch venomous snakes, you should already be prepared to get bitten to death.”
Luo Wangshu looked suspiciously at Mo Li. Why did this guy seem more different every day? Based on his usual personality, shouldn’t he have replied with something like: “Wife, are we going?”
“Did you remember something?” Luo Wangshu asked cautiously. Recently, Mo Li’s headaches had been happening more frequently, and he’d also been giving him spirit herbs more often, so…
Mo Li looked at him strangely. “Wife, what are you talking about? Remember what?”
Luo Wangshu raised a brow, then shook his head. “Nothing. Keep making the clothes. Hurry up.” He really didn’t want to keep wearing Mo Li’s clothes. They were way too loose and huge, and the pants looked ready to fall down after only a couple steps.
Mo Li lowered his eyes and continued working, carefully hiding the dark emotion that flashed through them.
Facts proved that Luo Wangshu’s worries were unnecessary. About an hour later, Mo Fang returned, with Li Guang carrying the medicine chest behind him. The obedient way he acted really did look like an apprentice.
“Grandpa, I put the medicine chest away. I’m going home to cook now. I’ll come help again in a few days.”
That was what Li Guang said before leaving. Luo Wangshu couldn’t understand it. In this era, doctors should have been highly respected, and a skilled doctor like Mo Fang should have been even more popular. So why was his apprentice only allowed to come study once in a while? Shouldn’t Li Guang’s family be thrilled to let him learn from Mo Fang? After all, medicine was an excellent skill for making a living, the kind that could be passed down for generations.
“Stop staring and go tend the fire.” Mo Fang waved a hand in front of Luo Wangshu’s eyes.
Luo Wangshu answered with an “Oh” and went to the stove to tend the fire. He used to be accustomed to gas stoves and natural gas, so learning how to manage a wood fire had taken him several days. Now he could barely manage it.
Mo Fang sighed. If Luo Wangshu had truly been useless, he probably wouldn’t have tolerated him for this long. The reason he did was because although Luo Wangshu understood nothing, he genuinely worked hard to learn. Even if his brains and appearance clearly weren’t on the same level, he was barely acceptable.
Mo Li was still sewing clothes. By the end of the day, he had almost finished everything. Seeing his speed made Mo Fang a bit shocked. Plenty of men knew how to sew clothes, but few were as skilled as him.
Strong enough to overpower others, able to cook, possessing a fierce face yet also knowing how to sew clothes—Mo Fang guessed he might have escaped from some bandit stronghold. Speaking of which, there really was some place called Flying Dragon Fortress in those mountains…
Mo Fang shook his head. Better not think about it. In the future, he just needed to avoid that mountain area. But Mo Li’s gaze was gradually changing now, and he had become more silent, making Mo Fang suspect that perhaps he was remembering something.
The freezing wind cut across his face like blades, making his cheeks ache. White frost covered the yellow sands, and piles of corpses lay beneath his feet. He held a massive bloodstained saber, coldly staring ahead. He dared not think of anything. He could only continue moving forward, stepping over countless corpses and continuing to kill.
The saber in his hand had long lost its original color from all the blood. The winter sunset was pale, yet even the vivid red staining the snow was more intense than the collapsing sky. The cold wind roared in his ears. Even when the saber became slippery and difficult to hold, he never stopped the battle. One person after another fell before him. His heart was colder than ice. Kill. Since his soul was already filthy, why should he care about his body?
He heard his own heavy breathing, his gradually slowing heartbeat. He truly wanted to disappear into this endless snowy wasteland…
“Mo Li? Wake up.”
Luo Wangshu woke up halfway through the night from the cold. The sticky feeling against his back made him frown. When he turned over and reached out to push Mo Li, his hand came away damp. Under the moonlight, he saw the sweat covering Mo Li’s body. Even his inner clothes were soaked, and his complexion looked terrible.
Luo Wangshu patted his shoulder, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t wake him up.
His pale lips moved as though muttering something. Luo Wangshu leaned closer to listen and only caught a few scattered words. The word “kill” made his heart skip a beat.
At this hour in the middle of the night, there was no way he could wake Mo Fang, so he could only take water from his space, wet a cloth, and wipe Mo Li down. It was just a nightmare, right? He should be fine.
Towering buildings, a magnificent golden palace. He walked across a carpet red as blood. The black armor on his body reflected faint crimson light under the sun. He knew that glow was the result of countless people’s blood.
Endless rewards and praise rained down upon him. Listening to those insincere compliments, the corner of his lips curved slightly into a fleeting mocking smile.
Not long after, he returned to the endless yellow sands. No one dared invade again.
A lonely moon, a cup of clear wine. He couldn’t tell whether the feeling in his heart was sorrow or desolation. Beside him rested a crescent saber, quietly concealing its sharpness.
At some point, an imperial decree arrived, summoning him back once more. Alone, he rode a fine horse at full speed. Then one late night, hundreds of assassins attacked him. The moment he recognized their martial techniques, he understood that person’s intentions. Without hesitation, he leapt off a hundred-zhang cliff—
Endless darkness swallowed him whole. He was powerless to struggle.
A gentle voice hummed an unknown melody. He struggled to open his eyes, and silver light seemed within reach. Someone lightly patted his chest in rhythm with the tune, again and again. The tightly furrowed brows slowly relaxed, and his heart gradually calmed.
Luo Wangshu propped his head up with one hand, half lying on top of Mo Li. As he patted him, he ended up hypnotizing himself instead. Fortunately, Mo Li had stopped breaking out in waves of cold sweat, so Luo Wangshu finally gave in to his overwhelming drowsiness and fell asleep.
Pale golden sunlight streamed through the cracks in the wooden window. Mo Li shifted slightly. The faint but familiar sense of danger made him snap his eyes open, but his right hand failed to grab the object he instinctively searched for.
Bang!
“Ow!”
Luo Wangshu got smacked awake in the middle of sleeping. The wooden bed wasn’t wide to begin with—how many times could he roll around on it? Before even making one full roll, he slammed straight into the wall.
“Mo Li!” Luo Wangshu gritted out through clenched teeth, face dark as he rubbed his injured forehead. The more he thought about it, the angrier he got. He directly reached out and pinched Mo Li’s face hard. “Didn’t I already tell you not to thrash around while sleeping?!”
Mo Li blinked blankly, seeming to remember something. He smiled faintly and pulled Luo Wangshu into his arms, gently rubbing the slightly swollen bump on his forehead.
“Mm. There won’t be a next time.”
He still looked like someone who wouldn’t fight back even if hit or scolded. If Luo Wangshu kept making a fuss, it would only make him seem petty. But getting hurt first thing in the morning would put anyone in a bad mood, right? And Luo Wangshu also had severe morning grumpiness.
“Want to try on the new clothes?” Mo Li skillfully changed the subject. If he let Luo Wangshu keep dwelling on it, his face might suffer again.
The words “new clothes” successfully diverted Luo Wangshu’s attention. “Finished already?”
“Mm…” Before Mo Li could finish speaking, Luo Wangshu excitedly shook off his hand and jumped out of bed barefoot, bouncing around like a child who’d just been promised candy.
Mo Li smiled and stretched lazily. Outside, the sunlight was perfect.
Mm. His name was Mo Li.