Re-birth: The Beginning after the End - Chapter 53

Chapter 53: MO XING

On the other side of the moon, a few realms above, stood a man whose mere presence seemed to bend reality. His otherworldly features were bathed in silvery light as he gazed upward, unable—or perhaps unwilling—to look away from the celestial orb. The moonlight seemed to pulse with an otherworldly rhythm that begged for his notice, each silvery wave like a desperate plea reaching across the void, as if even the heavens themselves yearned for his attention.

He had been merely walking through his garden, attending to the night-blooming spirit flowers that seemed to lean toward him as he passed, when his eyes caught a glimpse of the moon. In that moment, time itself seemed to still. His feet rooted to the spot as if the very earth demanded his pause, and something deep within his soul stirred—a feeling both foreign and achingly familiar. It nudged at the edges of his consciousness, like a half-remembered dream trying to surface.

“Hey, best friend~” An annoying voice broke through the night air, the sing-song tone as subtle as a peacock in a monastery.

“Mo Tao,” The man muttered without turning, a hint of mischief playing at the corners of his mouth. “Come to terrorize my garden again? Last time you visited, three spirit flowers went into mourning.”

The silvery threads of memory that had been weaving themselves together scattered like startled birds, but Mo Xing refused to let his disappointment show. Instead, he turned to face his friend with an elegant flourish that somehow managed to be both dramatic and effortlessly graceful. “And please, if you’re going to call me anything ridiculous, at least be creative. ‘Best friend’ is so… mundane.” His eyes gleamed with dangerous mirth as he added, “Though I suppose I shouldn’t expect originality from someone who’s spent three thousand years trying to break into the Master phase and still can’t make it past the second rank. Tell me, Mo Tao, do the guards recognize you by name yet?”

Mo Tao staggered backward dramatically, clutching his chest as if mortally wounded. His theatrical display of heartbreak would have impressed even the most seasoned opera performers. “Mo Xing, Xing’er, Brother Xing,” he wailed, each variation of the name delivered with increasing despair, “why must you wound me so deeply?”

“Because,” Mo Xing’s smile was razor-sharp, “someone has to keep you humble.”

“And that’s your job?”

“Of course. It’s my sacred duty as your…” Mo Xing paused, tapping his chin. “What was it again? Ah yes. ‘Best friend.'”

“Ahh? Why is our so—”

flick

“Mmmphhff!”

“Oh my,” Mo Xing inspected his fingernails. “How clumsy of my garden. It seems to have developed an attitude problem.”

“What—” Mo Tao spat out a mouthful of dirt.

“That purple petal really suits you,” Mo Xing observed brightly. “Right there, between your front teeth.”

“Get it out!”

“And miss this performance?” Mo Xing circled his friend. “Look, that one’s actually glowing. How festive!”

“I can’t believe you—”

“Oh, blow more dirt around, please. The fountain effect is particularly charming.”

“I forgot you could do this!”

“Clearly.” Mo Xing’s voice turned honey-sweet. “Perhaps if you spent less time on theatrics and more on cultivation…”

Mo Tao finally managed to clear his mouth enough to speak, though a stubborn petal still clung to his lower lip, its ethereal glow making him look like he’d just eaten starlight. “You’re particularly vicious tonight,” he observed, delicately dabbing at his chin with his sleeve—a gesture that might have looked elegant if not for the trail of glowing petals and dark soil that now stained the expensive silk. His eyes, however, held their usual shrewd gleam as he added, “Though I suppose I should have expected it after that dinner with your brother and Miss Su Jia.”

“Who?” Mo Xing asked with exaggerated innocence, as if trying to remember something utterly forgettable.

“The Su Family’s second eldest daughter—the one your brother wants as your wife. You just met her at tonight’s dinner, remember?” Mo Tao studied his friend’s face carefully. “Your brother was practically glowing when he made the announcement.”

“Ah, yes. The one who spent the entire evening trying to look demure while practically throwing herself across the table.” Mo Xing’s lips curved into a devastating smile. “I was almost impressed by her dedication—batting her eyes so hard I feared they might fall out, laughing at every word my brother said as if he were the greatest comedian in all the realms. Though I must admit, I was too distracted by her remarkable ability to knock over five teacups while pretending to be graceful. An impressive talent, really.”

His smile faded, and after a moment’s hesitation, his expression shifted to something more genuine. “A moment ago, before you so rudely interrupted me…I was looking at the moon. I…felt something strange, like someone was calling out across the void.”

Mo Tao’s eyes lit up with immediate interest, his body practically vibrating with curiosity as he invaded Mo Xing’s personal space. “A girl?” he asked, dirt and glowing petals still falling from his robes as he bounced around Mo Xing like an overexcited puppy. “Have you actually found someone who can make the infamous Ice Prince feel something?” He leaned in closer, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Tell your best friend everything! Come on, Brother Xing, Xing’er, my dearest, most wonderful—”

“You know,” Mo Xing mused, his hand already moving toward Mo Tao’s face with elegant precision, “I’m beginning to think my garden misses having your face planted in it.”

“Wait—no—Mo Xing, don’t you dare—”

With that, he placed his palm against his friend’s forehead and pushed backward, sending Mo Tao windmilling through the air with arms flailing wildly like a startled crane trying to take flight.

“YOU DEMON! YOU ABSOLUTE TYRANT!” Mo Tao shrieked as he spun through the air. “IS THIS HOW YOU TREAT YOUR BEST FR—” thump “—ow.”

The entire spectacle only seemed to highlight Mo Xing’s own casual grace, his movement as elegant as someone arranging flowers rather than manhandling a person.

“My robes!” Mo Tao wailed from his new position face-down in the dirt. “These are cloud-silk you ruthless, beautiful monster!”

Mo Xing turned away, already gliding toward his study.

“Hey! Mo Xing! Brother Xing!” Mo Tao scrambled to his feet, clouds of dirt falling from his once-pristine robes. “Wait! You can’t just leave after saying something like that! Come back here and tell me more about this mysterious moon maiden of yours!”

Mo Xing paused mid-step, and though he didn’t turn around, a rare smile played across his features. Without a word, he continued walking, his robes whispering against the stone path as he approached his private study.

“Don’t you dare put up that barrier!” Mo Tao called after him. “Mo Xing! Brother Xing! I know you can hear me!”

The heavy rosewood door closed with a soft click that somehow managed to sound smug. A shimmer of pale blue light rippled across the entrance as Mo Xing activated his strongest privacy barrier—the one he’d specifically designed to keep out nosy best friends.

“This is cruel!” Mo Tao’s muffled voice carried through the barrier. “I’ll tell your brother about this! No, better yet, I’ll tell your mother!”

Settling himself before his ancient Rosewood desk, Mo Xing listened with amusement to the increasingly creative threats from beyond his barrier. But before he could begin writing, a familiar presence interrupted his thoughts.

“Master.” Mian Mian materialized from the shadows, her dark form drifting through the air like ink in water.

“Have you come to lecture me about being nice to Mo Tao?” Mo Xing asked, his voice carrying a thread of affection. “Or perhaps you’d like to volunteer as my next gardening assistant?”

“I can’t sense it here either,” Mian Mian replied, ignoring his teasing with practiced ease. “Perhaps we should check the lower realms?” Her smoky feathers shifted like silk in a gentle breeze.

Mo Xing looked up at his spiritual companion with an arched brow. “Again, with this mysterious quest of yours? I’m starting to think you just want an excuse to explore the mortal realm’s tea houses.”

“Master,” Mian Mian huffed, her ethereal form puffing up indignantly. “Since we’ve been bonded, I’ve always felt that something was missing. If only I could find it, I would be stronger.”

“And you still have no idea what this ‘something’ is?” Mo Xing’s voice carried equal parts amusement and curiosity. “Should I be concerned that my spiritual companion is sending me on a treasure hunt with no map?”

“I’ll know it when I see it,” Mian Mian insisted, trying to maintain her dignity despite her master’s playful skepticism.

“I have too many things going on at the moment. Though…” his eyes sparkled with mischief, “I could always send you down with Mo Tao. I’m sure he’d love another chance to impress the Frozen Peak’s first Princess.”

“No, Master.” Mian Mian’s response was immediate and horrified. “I will wait for you.”

“Even if it takes me a decade?” His tone was light, but something warmer lurked beneath the surface.

“Yes, Master.” The shadows in the room deepened with her conviction.

“Well then,” Mo Xing conceded with a dramatic sigh, though his eyes held genuine affection, “I suppose I’ll have to speed things up. Can’t have my favorite bird moping around the garden forever. The flowers might get jealous.”

The shadows in the room seemed to warm with Mian Mian’s gratitude as she settled contentedly on his desk, watching as her master finally began to write.