Living to Suffer

by Tangstory

Then the next thing she knew, all the flames in the chamber dimmed. It was Shen Liangsheng channelling his entire reservoir of ch’i, an amount capable of obliterating mountains and flipping the sea, straight into the corpse, instantaneously sending it in the air as a cloud of dust.

  Such a ruthless action stupefied every person present so much that they momentarily forgot about the issue of betrayal.

  While the shock had not worn off, Shen Liangsheng walked toward the gates, through the air now filled with ash.

  Step by step, until he collapsed quietly to the ground.

  Despite his strong foundations, standing for seven days in addition to triggering his core ch’i caused damage to his essence.

  When Shen Liangsheng awoke, two days had passed. He was not in prison but lying in his own bed.

  “There you are.” Miao Jan was sitting at the table but heard the noise. She came up close and explained straightforwardly, “I have told the others about it, beginning to end. The crime of betraying the sect will not be mentioned again.”

  “…”

  “Maybe not all of them believe it, but so what?” Miao Jan rambled on while Shen Liangsheng rose and dressed. “The deputy has lost all his cultivation, and the federation has gathered at the foot of the mountain. I imagine they’ve found a way to get past our defence formations during the past two days. Believing you will defend the sect to the death before the final battle is better than believing you really are a traitor.”

  “…”

  “Well, I’m just glad you woke up. I still have patrol tonight. You get some more rest, all right?”

  With that, she turned to leave but saw that the man was following her. She frowned at him. “Just where are you going? Hsiao-Shen, can you stop making me worry so much already?”

  Only after a pause did Shen Liangsheng speak, in a tone that actually seemed lost. “Auntie Miao, let me stay with you for a bit.”

  Miao Jan then felt the urge to cry, but her tears had dried up many years ago. In the end, she reached up and patted his head as she had in his childhood, gently replying, “Then come with Auntie on patrol. We’ll keep each other company for a bit.”

  It was patrol, but there was nothing to do. The federation used to be fearful of the combined power of the deputy leader and the hufa of the Hsing Sect, but now that they had certain victory, they were not going to rush into things. Mount Fut’u was a treacherous natural barrier that made a night invasion unwise. Thus, that evening was unusually tranquil.

  Shen Liangsheng strolled alongside Miao Jan, taciturnly.

  It was Miao Jan who broke the silence and continued the previous topic. “Perhaps I should not say this, but Hsiao-Shen, you should think twice about defending the sect to the death.”

  “…”

  “The two elders will certainly do so. The other t’angchu and adjutant…I doubt they can escape even if they won’t defend to the death.”

  “…”

  “But if you do want to leave, your success is likely. You think about it some more.”

  “Auntie Miao,” Shen Liangsheng answered. “I shall protect you in battle tomorrow.”

  “Thank you for your kind offer.” She smiled and shook her head at the déjà vu. “Hsiao-Shen, do you remember the man I told you about?”

  “…I do.”

  “He said all those years ago that he would rather die than see me again, but this New Year’s I couldn’t help but sneak a glimpse at him.”

  “…”

  “He’s still alive, with children and grandchildren and a big happy family.”

  “…”

  “His oldest grandson looks a lot like him. He was even around the same age as he was when we…” Miao Jan paused, her smile deepening as though she thought of something entertaining. “I thought, how interesting, and lingered around the kid a little longer than usual.”

  “…”

  “And guess what?” Miao Jan burst out giggling. “He came over to me, blushing, and asked me if I was lost.”

  “…”

  “It was New Year’s, for crying out loud. Everyone on the street was rushing off to the market. Why would any girl be lost? He obviously had some other motive.”

  “…”

  “But even his clumsy greeting was exactly the same as the one his grandfather had used.”

  “…”

  “And that’s when Auntie Miao felt…” Sighing, Miao Jan smiled at Shen Liangsheng. “That I’ve lived for far too long.”

  “…”

  “Hsiao-Shen, don’t concern yourself with me tomorrow. I won’t concern myself with you, either. It’s all up to you.”

  They resumed walking in silence, but after a while Miao Jan halted, produced a potpourri sachet from her sleeve and passed it to Shen Liangsheng.

  “I thought about it, and I think you should have this.”

  “…”

  “I think you know very well what is inside.”

  “…”

  “Do you truly hate him so?”

  “…”

  “Just take it. Things have already become like this. You feel how you feel. Don’t cause any more pain for yourself.”

  Shen Liangsheng accepted the sachet. Light, almost weightless, it seemed empty.

  “It is nearly the Hour of the Rat. Your essence has not fully recovered, so you’d better get some rest.”

  With that, Miao Jan continued on. Shen Liangsheng turned around as advised, but instead of returning to his room he headed for the peak of Mount Fut’u.

  On the mountain where fire grows is the meng ts’ao which is red in colour and shrinks into the earth by day, coming forth at night. Its alternative name is huai-meng.

  “Legend says that holding it enables one to dream of what is on one’s mind. Maybe you should pick one and try it for yourself, Shen-hufa.”

  “I have naught on my mind.”

  His response that day seemed to echo in his ears. Only, his former self never would have thought that one day he would go and pick a stalk.

  That he would want to dream.

  To see exactly what was on his mind.

  Chapter XX

  Shen Liangsheng caught the fragrance of osmanthus. Many fortnights remained till autumn, but the year-round osmanthus in the corner of the yard had already budded and was exuding a subtle sweetness.

  Amidst the aroma, he leisurely ran through a set of sword techniques, returned his weapon to its sheath and immediately caught sight of the man by the window gazing at him over his book. Their eyes met, and the man ducked his head nonchalantly and continued reading the saints’ words.

  “Ch’in-taifu,” Shen Liangsheng strode to the window, hands clasped behind his back, and inquired casually, “How many pages have you read in these two hours?”

  “Quite a few, naturally,” Ch’in Ching quickly answered without looking up from the page. Far from showing self-consciousness, he even fired back a question. “Shen-hufa, have you bathed in the medicinal spring today?”

  “Was it not Ch’in-taifu who suggested that I go in the evening?” Shen Liangsheng raised his brows. “Or is that an invitation to bathe together?”

  “Shen-hufa, you overthink,” the doctor replied almost immediately, but his expression was not quite right. Though his head was still facing down at his book, his ears were slowly but surely turning red.

  “Ch’in Ching.” The taller man reached over the window sill and closed the book. “No use reading if your heart’s not in it.”

  “And how would Shen-hufa know that mine’s not?” He finally looked up, and his lips were curved in a delicate arc.

  “How would I know?” Shen Liangsheng shot him a look. “For the past two hours, have you been looking at the book or at me?”

  “Hah…” Just now he had been flustered by the man’s utterance, but now he was like a cooked pig – the boiling water no longer affected him – and he leaned over his desk and lightly slapped Shen Liangsheng’s face. “Hey beautiful, you’re too modest.”

&
nbsp; He should know never to spar verbally with this man, someone who would dare run a dye house after learning the names of three colours.

  Shen Liangsheng caught the doctor’s hand and pulled him over to silence that cheeky mouth of his.

  Surreptitiously, the sweet scent of osmanthus burrowed between their lips and lingered on the tip of their tongues, instantly stimulating the taste buds.

  For a moment he was lost. He felt an overwhelming sense of contentedness, but that was still not enough. Then he had the most absurd idea – he wanted to ferment this man, whom he was kissing while separated by a window sill, into a bottle of wine with the sweet osmanthus and sip it for the rest of his life.

  Ch’in Ching had his torso pulled up against the desk, and soon the edge dug painfully into his waist, and he wiggled in discomfort.

  Shen Liangsheng released his lips and hopped in through the window. He pulled the man into his arms and planted kisses all over his face.

  “There’s a door for you to use, but you chose to jump through the window – you must be a thief!” Ch’in Ching teased as he giggled from the ticklish advance.

  “What in your hut is worth stealing?” Shen Liangsheng began easing towards the bed, his intention blatantly obvious.

  “Well, there’s a real live person right here.” Ch’in Ching just didn’t know when to quit. He was pinned down on the bed and still teased in the man’s ear. “So of course you’re stealing him.”

  Shen Liangsheng slid a hand under the doctor’s clothes and began to explore.

  The summer garments were thin and few in number. He squeezed the man’s nipples through a thin layer of cotton, and it was not long before the adorable nubs hardened and perked up.

  “Does it feel good here?” Shen Liangsheng removed the doctor’s outer robe and sucked on the nubs over his undershirt. Saliva moistened the cloth, leaving two lewd, dark circles.

  “Yeah…” It appeared that Ch’in Ching was successfully aroused as he tugged at his own collar exposing the perky tips. “So kiss it some more.”

  Shen Liangsheng dipped down and latched onto those two cute things, playing with them. His hand wandered down to the man’s groin and as expected found a hardening erection.

  “Nnh…” A weak mewl escaped from Ch’in Ching’s lips. Perhaps the stimulation of a warm palm around his member was truly phenomenal, for a murmur escaped, too. “I love you, Shen Liangsheng.”

  “…”

  “What’s wrong?” Ch’in Ching opened his eyes and looked at the man curiously, wondering why he had stopped.

  “Nothing. Do you want more?” He responded smoothly, but actually he was taken by surprise. He knew very well that this man would say anything as long as he was pleasured in bed, and he had heard this “I love you” more than enough times. This time, however, for some odd reason, his heartbeat picked up its pace.

  “More…” Naturally, this was the only viable reply since his manhood had just come to full attention under the care of the taller man. Then, as though he recalled their past intimacties and the joy his ass felt, he added quietly, “…and don’t forget the back.”

  “Even if someone’s not a beauty, they should still have a little modesty, too.” Shen Liangsheng resumed the verbal sparring after composing himself, although his hands did not rest. He quickly stripped the two of them bare and began probing Ch’in Ching’s backside and the entrance between the cheeks.

  “With a face like that, it’s no wonder you don’t think anyone else is beautiful.” Ch’in Ching pulled a dejected expression as he clung to Shen Liangsheng’s arm and groused, “Anyways, I’m a man, not a woman. You should be satisfied that I’ve got all the parts in the right places, not thinking badly of my looks.”

  “Who said I thought badly of you?” The doctor’s actions made him want to laugh, but naturally he did not actually do so. He instead leaned close to his ear and whispered, “Besides, Ch’in-taifu, haven’t you heard the expression, ‘a lover always sees a legendary beauty?’ ”

  At once, the doctor settled down, and another red flush filled his face. For some reason, in that moment, Shen Liangsheng found the man to be rather good-looking, not just the face but the entire body. He wanted nothing more than to love every bit of him from his silky strands to his toes

  As he was thinking this, he slowly planted kisses starting with his brows. He visited those affectionate eyes, those moist lips and that quivering Adam’s apple. He greeted his straight collarbone, his naked chest and those alert nipples. He trailed past his flat abdomen and flicked his tongue in his belly button before sliding downward and licking his pubic hairs. He caressed the member that was as smooth as a virgin’s and sucked its head attentively. He brushed over the soft inner thighs and the swollen sac and carefully moistened the winking opening. He made his way down those slender legs, past the bony ankles to the toes already curled in arousal.

  “Mmnn…Shen Liangsheng…” The kisses made Ch’in Ching lose control, and he kept moaning the man’s name, repeating incoherantly, “I love you…”

  No. It was not a hallucination. Something was not right here.

  When Shen Liangsheng heard that “I love you” again, his heart jumped and sped up even more, accompanied by a peculiar sense of frustration.

  He penetrated deeply into the man and shared a long, breathless kiss with him. He rocked against the man at a dizzying pace, but the frustration persisted all the same.

  “Ah!” Suddenly, Ch’in Ching was pulled up to a sitting position. The shaft inside him reached an impossible depth and he let out a yelp.

  Shen Liangsheng now was face-to-face with the doctor in his arms as he pounded into him. He didn’t know how else to ease that feeling, and his brows knitted more and more tightly.

  “I love you…Ah-Liang…I love you…”

  Perhaps Ch’in Ching had detected the taller man’s mood and wanted to say something comforting, completely unaware that it was only adding gasoline to the flame.

  “Do you really?”

  Everything came to a standstill when he heard his own question. The sense of frustration dissipated with his words and was replaced by an inchoate fear.

  He finally remembered. This was but a dream.

  It was summertime in the dream. They had just met and were already converging in naked honesty.

  Time had been reversed. Space had been altered. It was but a delusion.

  And what was on his mind was merely the question:

  “Do you really love me?”

  “I love you, Shen Liangsheng.” Sure enough, the man gave him the one answer that he wanted.

  With that, black silk became white fibres, and his face was now devoid of flesh and blood, no more than a dried layer of skin stretched over bones.

  “I love you, it’s true.”

  No matter how terrifying his face was, those eyes were as sincere and tender as always. With sincerity and tenderness, they confessed their love for him.

  “That is good… That alone is enough.”

  Now, the fear faded, too. No fright, no dread, he held a dried corpse tightly and continued their intimacy in the dream as though his life depended on it.

  Perhaps the nights before war were unusually long. When Shen Liangsheng opened his eyes, the sky was still dark and the world tranquil.

  Thus he lay, still and quiet, and took out the meng ts’ao from his chest pocket and then the sachet.

  The potpourri had been removed a long time ago, and the only thing inside was a small handful of flying ash that Miao Jan managed to secure that day. The amount was so pitifully small that the bottom of the sachet could not be fully lined.

  Shen Liangsheng stuck a digit inside to collect a few particles, held it against his lip, and licked it clean.

  Of course, it had no taste.

  Just like that “I truly do love you,” it was tangible in his dream but became nothingness when he awoke.

  Slowly but surely, dawn broke. Shen Liangsheng rose, dressed, did his hair and opened
his door to the final battle of his life.

  “Forgive me, Ch’in Ching, for I cannot keep the promise I made.”

  By the end of the battle, the Hsing Sect had mostly perished or surrendered. Perhaps there were a few who escaped, but they would not post a threat.

  The two elders and four t’angchu had all died, leaving only Shen Liangsheng. Perhaps he could still escape, but he had no wish to do so.

  “Not because I hate you, but because I found out after trying that I cannot.”

  The radiant sun hung high in the sky, casting rays of heavenly principle. The mounting debt of blood and murder must be repaid.

  Covered with wounds, Shen Liangsheng gripped his sword as skilled warriors surrounded him in a momentary deadlock.

  As though sensing its owner’s intentions, the sword emitted a long, high-pitched shriek.

  Not in protest but in heartbreak.

  The sword was still crying with sorrow, but its owner smiled.

  “You leave me with three words of ambiguity, but I will return three of sincerity.”

  The summer shower had long ceased. The umbrella painted with inky reeds had long succumbed to the mud. Everything truly from the start had long been predestined.

  But had he the power to reverse time, to return to that tiny cosmos, to look into those eyes once again, to hear the man ask him that question…

  He would surely smile and tell him:

  “Grant me death.”