Husky And His White Cat Quotes

It wasn't that he didn't care for those around him, only that he did it quietly. Such solitude, day after day, without anyone to see or notice, was also a kind of torment.

The thanks isn’t just for the wontons. Thank you also, in both this lifetime and the last, for being the only person to never look down on me,

A misunderstanding of one year is a misunderstanding. A misunderstanding of ten years is an injustice. A misunderstanding of a lifetime, from life unto death, is fate.

Did you know the most wonderful dreams are rarely ever real?

Chu Wanning had spent two-and-a-half million… On sweets…

It hurt too much, holding someone in his heart like this, hidden carefully in the very depths of his thoughts. It was fine if that person didn’t like him, as long as he could think about that person quietly and protect them silently. It was fine if he couldn’t have that person. All of it was fine.

His heart raced in his chest, and his palms were covered with sweat, humiliated by his loss of self-control. He really had been alone for too long, if he could mistake a tiny sliver of kindness and care from someone for sincere tenderness. Like an idiot.

Where his shizun was, there was a flame. Where Chu Wanning was, there was light.

The honest truth was that he feared he'd offer up his warm, beating heart to someone, only for them to casually set it aside to cool.

No, Mo Ran. Think about it. Let go of your vicious hatred and look back properly. He once trained you in cultivation and martial arts, trained you in the art of self-defense. He once taught you how to read and write, taught you poetry and painting. He once learned how to cook just for you, even though he was so clumsy and got cuts all over his hands. He once… He once waited every day for you to come home, all alone by himself, from nightfall…till the break of dawn…

How could he have guessed that Chu Wanning was actually so kind to him… That Chu Wanning’s lingering regret in the living world was him.

Mo Ran was categorically a piece-of-shit jackass, but the sixteen-year-old budding jackass of his previous lifetime simply couldn’t compare to the thirty-two-year-old veteran jackass of the present. This guy grew more shameless with each passing day.

He murmured, “Three thousand, seven hundred and ninety-nine.” He had counted as he walked. That was the number of steps up to the main gate, the number of steps that Chu Wanning had climbed that day, carrying him on his back. He was certain that for as long as he lived, he would never forget Chu Wanning’s hands, cold as ice, chafed raw and bloody.

Chu Wanning! You think you’re so tough?! Watch me fuck you to death!

I'm sorry, I was wrong to hate you.

Why wouldn’t I dare?” Chu Wanning gazed at her, unimpressed. “What ought I be afraid of?” He paused, then pulled Mo Ran closer. “Listen up: This person is mine. I’m taking him.

Chu Wanning! This venerable one wasn’t wrong to treat you the way he did in his previous life! Even after coming back to life, the mere sight of you is still aggravating! Fuck all eighteen generations of your ancestors! Chu Wanning was unaware that his beast of a disciple was going to fuck all eighteen generations of his ancestors.

A misunderstanding of one year is a misunderstanding. A misunderstanding of ten years is an injustice. A misunderstanding of a lifetime, from life unto death, is fate. Their fate was blighted.

Unfortunately, it was too late. They watched helplessly as three characters written in exquisite and powerful calligraphy slowly appeared on the silver handle of the willow vine. Ah! Jiangui: What the Hell. The holy weapon “Ah! What the Hell?!

Chu Wanning held him, caressing his hair as if still in a dream, and sighed softly once more. "Did you know the most wonderful dreams are rarely ever true?" Then he pulled away, the hug swiftly finished, like the light touch of a dragonfly on water.

That as the days had passed, I’d grown into the you I held in my heart.

Shizun”. His voice broke. ”Let's start over from the beginning, okay?

There were countless injustices in the world, so what was the point of caring? It was enough to exhaust a person to death.

Xue Meng burst out laughing, tilting his head back to look at the dim ceiling. ”Mo Ran, in all of Sisheng Peak, he was the one who thought most highly of you. And this is how you've repaid him.

So what if you have money?” Chu Wanning snarled. “Does money allow you to flip right and wrong, to repay kindness with cruelty? Does money let you do whatever you want and break all your promises?

Chu Wanning’s thick curtain of lashes swept downward. “I like it,” he repeated quietly. “No one’s ever taken care of me like this before.” He lifted his eyes to glance at Mo Ran. When he spoke again, it was earnestly: “Thank you very much, Shixiong.

all that came out, soft and slightly hoarse, was: “I’ll wait for you.

In his last life, he had been a destroyer. In this one, he wanted to be a protector.

Pay attention to me... Please pay attention to me...

Fucking Chu Wanning.

Who else could it be? Who else could it be?! Depraved! Despicable! Disgusting! Obscene!” Mo Ran sighed. “That doesn’t alliterate.

Chu Wanning was struck utterly speechless. He opened his eyes, and the blood that had been frozen in his veins began to circulate again. For a while, he didn’t know what to say as he stared silently at Mo Weiyu, who stood by the bed with a complicated expression. Then, slowly, a clear verdict formed in Chu Wanning’s gaze: Moron.

Ever since, holding onto the resentment he felt that grew by the day, he'd kept provoking Chu Wanning in attempts to get his attention, his praise, his astonishment. During that time, if Shi Mei had praised him with "well done", he would've flown into the sky with happiness. But if Chu Wanning had been willing to give him a "not bad", he would've gladly given his life.

Reckless affection and passionate, obsessive entanglements, these things only grew in the soil of youth. When Chu Wanning was young, he’d also hoped there might be someone who would stay by his side, with whom he might share wine beneath the moon, but he’d waited and waited, and still this person had never arrived.

His spiritual energy was completely drained. He was no different from an ordinary person at that time. He couldn't use a single technique, not even a simple communication spell. He could only carry you on his back and climb up the stairs of Sisheng Peak, step by step. And when he couldn't do that anymore, when he couldn't even stand, he had crawled on the ground, on his knees, dragging him until his fingers were torn and his hands covered in blood. All to bring him home.

His eyes. One so dark and bottomless, it feels like staring into a well. And the other, an ice blue so light, it’s nearly white, reminding me of a husky’s eyes. A scar slashes straight down through the discolored eye, as if it didn’t already demand attention.

The sight of this face was all Xue Meng needed to confirm his suspicion—Mo Ran had poisoned himself

If I can't be wronged for you. Mo Ran and Taxian-Jun. I am willing to be scorned with you for all eternity.

Mo Ran didn’t know if he should laugh or cry.

A lone Taxian-Jun, with no one to turn to, in an endless darkness he could barely breathe, holding Chu Wanning tightly in his arms as if he was holding the last embers of fire in this world.

I just want to change my clothes and feel like I still have old friends around for company.” Liu-gong sighed. “That’s just make-believe.” “Make-believe is fine,” Mo Ran replied. “Make-believe is better than nothing.

Next, use your left hand and pat at your right sleeve,” Chu Wanning instructed him expressionlessly. “Ooh, this action is deep and indiscernible. What move is this?” “Nothing deep and indiscernible about it,” Chu Wanning said flatly. “You were swinging too confidently earlier, and the weapon lit your sleeve on fire, that’s all.

Especially for Chu Wanning, it was as if an entire jar of vinegar had toppled over inside his chest, the sour taste of jealousy swelling without stop, getting under his skin. Sorry? How do you write sorry? Someone more apologetic, please teach him.

Shizun visits my dreams, for he knows I think of him often.' When Mo Ran had high fever, he dreamt that Chu Wanning brought him a spark of flame in a cold dark night. Mo Ran said 'where his shizun was, there was a flame. Where Chu Wanning was, there was light.

Chu Wanning glanced knowingly at Mo Ran and mentally filed away this weak point. He figured that since he was, at present, already in a child’s body, and since Mo Ran hadn’t the slightest idea who he actually was, there was nothing to be embarrassed about. He opened his mouth again, and out came a soft, saccharine sweet: “Ge.” “…” “Gege.” “………” “Mo Ran-gege.” “Aaaaaah! Okay, okay! I’ll take you, I’ll take you! Stop saying that!” Mo Ran jumped to his feet, face bright red, and rubbed at the goosebumps on his arms. “All right, fine. Come along, then. You win, okay? You win. Oh my god.

With his forehead pressed to the trunk of the tree, he finally cried, his tears falling like rain. “Shizun, Shizun,” he murmured between choked sobs. Over and over, he repeated those words he had spoken the day he first met Chu Wanning: “Won’t you pay attention to me… Please pay attention to me…

Father said that sealing the Heavenly Rift took everything in him. Did you think you were the only one struck by the fiendish energy of the ghost realm? The Discernment Barrier is twinned! Whatever damage you took, he suffered the same! It’s just that he endured it in silence and said nothing to anyone.

But Chu Wanning’s robes were gossamer-thin, as if they might fall to pieces in his hands. Mo Ran wished he could carve open his own chest and give Chu Wanning his heart, just to hear his heartbeat again. He wished he could drain his own blood to fill Chu Wanning’s veins, just to see color in his face again.

Chu Wanning didn’t believe in love, nor in chance encounters, and he certainly didn’t want to go chasing after any such thing. If he were to arduously gnaw through the cocoon, getting cut and scraped all over in the process, and come crawling clumsily out only to find no one waiting for him on the other side—what would he do?

Chu Wanning’s human soul was painstakingly folding wontons. His hands had ever been nimble and dexterous. Countless armaments had been crafted by those slender fingers; immense barriers had been conjured between those palms. But now those hands, torn and marred, trembled as they carefully folded one full, plump wonton after another. Mo

After all, everyone wanted warmth. Especially a stray dog that had frozen in the bitter cold so many times that the mere sight of salted roads made him tremble in the anticipation of snow, of the coming of winter. Taxian-jun looked imposing, but only he himself knew the truth. That he was nothing but a laughable stray. A stray that had always been looking for a place that he could curl up at, a place to call 'home', but he spent fifteen years looking and he still couldn't find it. And so, his love and hate become laughably simple - If someone gave him a beating, he would hate that person. If someone gave him a bowl of soup, he would love that person. He was only so simple, after all.

I can’t stop you if you don’t wish to live, but neither can you stop me if I don’t wish you to die.

Ge.” Xue Meng had finally stopped crying, but his voice was flat, like he was dead. “We don’t have a shizun anymore.

Shizun, pay attention to me.

Mo Ran finally stopped running. He knew he couldn’t escape it: in this life, he was bound to owe Chu Wanning.

Don’t laugh anymore, I can’t bear to see you like this…

Was it you who carried me back?” Mo Ran muttered hollowly. His question was met with only silence. “Chu Wanning, was it you…?” Silence. No reply.

He wanted to allow him to flourish, even if it meant his branches might be broken in the wind and rain.

His shizun, who held the world in his heart.

Shizun Just Might Blue-Ball Me to Death

Chu Wanning nodded. He suddenly said, “Don’t just randomly take off your clothes anymore.” Mo Ran’s face went red. “Got it.

You stole from me and then turned around and pretended you didn't even know me. Mo-geongzi, first you stab me, then you warn me of knives - how very considerate of you. -RongJiu

The more out-of-the-way areas had particularly forthright names like This is a Mountain, This is Water, and This is a Hole, as well as the famed Aaaaah and Waaaah Cliffs.

You can’t even save yourself; how can you save others?’” “And what did Shizun say?” Shi Mei asked. “If you don’t know how to save others, how can you save yourself?

Hands full of sweet potato, Chu Wanning opened his mouth without a second thought; it wasn’t until Mo Ran had popped the warm, soft milk candy onto his tongue, the coarse pad of his thumb brushing lightly past the corner of his lips, that Chu Wanning abruptly realized that he had eaten a sweet right out of his own disciple’s hand. The tips of his ears grew bright red.

Shizun.” After sitting for a long time, immersed in the light of the moon, immersed in Chu Wanning’s nearly transparent soul, Mo Ran spoke as though coaxing a child: “Come on, let’s go home.

Chu Wanning suddenly lifted his arm and covered his eyes. “Mo Ran,” he said softly. “Mo Ran, if you still have any compassion in you…any conscience…” His lashes shuddered against the back of his hand. “Please…don’t do this anymore… Mo Ran.” His voice broke on a sob. It was the first time in Mo Ran’s past life that he saw Chu Wanning cry. “Mo Ran, I can’t take it anymore… It hurts…

Mo Ran, everything that happened in this life…it’s all because I failed to teach you well, because I called you vile and beyond remedy. It was I who wronged you. I won’t blame you, in life or in death…

To Mo Ran, that embrace within an illusion had been charity that Shi Mei bestowed upon him. Mo Ran would never, ever know that this embrace had instead been charity that he bestowed upon another pitiful soul.

Mo Ran suddenly felt nervous. He wanted to cover the box and chase away the people salivating over his food like he’d swat away annoying flies. Then he remembered that, in this life, the crispy meat didn’t belong to him.

There was no way to express the feelings close to bursting the vessel of his chest, as though there was a pool of scalding lava in his heart, trapped and roiling, slamming against the walls and bringing him pain and anxiety.

After all, nothing is more important than his good name as the Beidou Immortal,” Mo Ran sneered coldly. Perhaps it was due to the room’s dim light that he looked a little forlorn. “You’ll live if you’re lucky. Die if you’re not.

Mo Ran’s throat felt tight, and a sob escaped as he collapsed to the floor, kneeling before that soul that couldn’t see him. The soul-calling lantern sat on the ground by his feet as he let out a broken wail, screaming himself hoarse as if he might cry blood. Finally, unable to contain it any longer, he bawled, loud and miserable. He knelt before Chu Wanning. It wasn’t like that at all… He groveled in the dust, clutching at the hems of Chu Wanning’s bloodstained robes.

Your body is mine, and your life too. You want to be their fire, but I’ll take you to the grave with me. I’ll make you shine on my dead body and nothing else. I want you to rot with me. “To live or to die, neither is your choice to make…

Great. Awesome. Perfect. Chu Wanning was right in everything he did. Then what about Mo Ran? Head in the dark like a know-nothing idiot, running in circles like a goddamn clown, hissing and snarling in his hatred for so long. And for what?!

All those years, the Yuheng Elder had always endured silently. No one liked him, no one kept him company, and he always feigned nonchalance as he walked through the reverent crowd, lofty and composed. Only with his mind tinged by childish thoughts could he break down and speak the truth, let out the misery that had built up within him for so long. It wasn’t that he didn’t care for those around him, only that he did it quietly. Such quietude, day after day, without anyone to see or notice, was also a kind of torment.

Chu Wanning wasn’t stupid. Even if Mo Ran didn’t say anything, it was easy to see just how much he treasured the gentle and beautiful person beside him. Why would Mo Ran ever turn his gaze toward Chu Wanning, who stood in the corner like a puppet covered in dust?

MY HEART HAS STILLED, and my thoughts turned to ash / Yet unexpectedly, thelight 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 that the world is unpredictable and full only of hardship.

He suddenly realized that he had once walked a path of no return. He wanted to turn back. He wanted to use the rest of his life to make amends, use the rest of his life to set things right. But he didn’t know if doing all that would even be enough to bring him back to the start.

He dashed madly through Sisheng Peak, as if trying to outrun this decade-long misunderstanding, as if trying to recover those ridiculous years, as if trying to catch up to that person who had left Mengpo Hall that day all alone. Catch up to him so he could say, I’m sorry, I was wrong to hate you.

So Mo Ran endured it, and forced himself to pick up the pieces. He told himself, It doesn’t hurt, it doesn’t hurt. This wasn’t the first time he’d lived through Chu Wanning’s death. It doesn’t hurt. It doesn’t hurt… But how could it not hurt? Over three thousand steps Chu Wanning had crawled, carrying him on his back—how could it not hurt… He’d drained his very last reserves of spiritual energy, he’d given it all to Mo Ran, how could it not hurt… He had suffered an identical injury, but so as not to burden his disciple, he had adopted a heartless expression and left on his own. How could it not hurt… And in the past life, Chu Wanning had also suffered the same injury as Shi Mei. It was just that he hadn’t said anything about it. He hadn’t said, and Mo Ran hadn’t asked. He’d roared angrily at Chu Wanning, vented endless hatred on him, flung to the ground those wontons Chu Wanning, who had yet to recover from his own injuries, had worked so hard to make for him. Before his eyes, Chu Wanning had bent down, lowered his head, and then, one by one, had picked up each wonton and thrown them away. How could it not hurt… How could it not have hurt?! He had dug out Chu Wanning’s heart! How could it have not hurt?! How could it… Mo Ran couldn’t take a step further. He stood in place for a long spell, trying to suppress these feelings, trying to rescue his calm. His entire body trembled. It hurt. He buried his face in his hands, bit down on his lip, and swallowed his sobs with the blood.

What he had felt for Mo Ran before was only love, which could be kept hidden. But right now, this man felt like nothing short of a fire to him, a fire that could too easily set him ablaze like he was mere kindling, sending flames soaring up to scorch the skies. Magma that had lain dormant all this time stirred awake and stretched its limbs in the abyss deep within himself, ready to burst in a violent eruption at any time. It threatened to burn through all the reservations, dignity, and restraint on which he had always prided himself… Threatened to burn it all to ash, until there was nothing left.

But that person’s warmth and tenderness were bestowed upon others while the only things offered to him were barbs and thorns. So although Chu Wanning held him in his heart, whenever that person moved, his heart would start to bleed. Day after day, new wounds appeared before the old ones had a chance to heal.

Mo Ran stared blankly, his face ghostly pale. He had always believed his shizun too cold—cold like iron, so cold it froze his heart to ice. How could he have guessed that Chu Wanning was actually so kind to him… That Chu Wanning’s lingering regret in the living world was him. That his last wish was to apologize.

A-Ran, isn’t Shizun the one you should feel bad for?” Shi Mei asked softly. “He only has a small umbrella because he’s always alone. No one wants to walk with him. That’s why even if Shizun is a little strict with me at times, or scolds me a little much at others, I don’t mind. Because I remember his drenched shoulder.

Little did she know that, every time she sighed and ate the “leftover” half of the flatbread and half bowl of congee, her little boy was secretly watching. He would curl up and pretend to sleep, peering at her through slitted eyes, and would only relax when he was sure she’d filled her stomach. Then he would feel at ease, despite the rumbling of his own.

Xue Meng, listen to me, I don’t care how powerful a cultivator he is in the eyes of the world, what a prestigious zongshi, that he’s Yuheng of the Night Sky, Beidou Immortal—none of that matters. What matters is this: at the battle of the Heavenly Rift, I nearly died. Yet when I begged for him to look back, to spare me a glance, he wouldn’t even give me that.

From his dim and narrow perspective, Chu Wanning was like a plate of savory and aromatic crispy meat that had been placed into a filthy, broken box. Mo Ran was the only person in the entire world who had opened the box and been able to taste the deliciousness inside. He’d never had to worry about someone else finding out about this delicacy and drooling over it.

He brought you home. You were unconscious, and his spiritual energy was completely drained. He was no different from an ordinary person at that time; he couldn’t use a single technique, not even a simple communication spell. He could only carry you on his back and climb up the stairs to Sisheng Peak, step by step.” “No…” “Over three thousand steps. He…without any spiritual power…

Behind him, Mo Ran was perched atop a black-clawed wolf; he had tailed Chu Wanning closely the whole ride. An indescribable comfort and contentment welled in Chu Wanning’s breast. He was struck by the hazy feeling that, finally, there was someone who would always follow close, footsteps echoing unceasingly—someone who would follow him no matter how far he ran, and no matter what floods he willfully forded into.

How could it be you?” Li Wuxin’s face was as pale as dry wax. His silver tongue that had been flapping away a moment ago tied itself into a knot as he stuttered, “We haven’t heard a word from you since you left Rufeng Sect. Here we thought you went off to wander the world; yet who knew you—you were actually down here in the muck, casting pearls before swine!” Chu Wanning snorted, his eyes cool. “You think I’m a pearl? I’m flattered.

This venerable one’s dear shizun really ought to take a look in the mirror.” Mo Ran’s finger slid along Chu Wanning’s cheek to rest by his ear, his eyes dark and threatening. A moment passed in silence, then he let out a cold hmph and abruptly leaned over. This lean was accompanied by a soft, searing-hot sensation as he captured Chu Wanning’s lips with his own. Caught completely off guard, Chu Wanning’s head hummed with white noise. Something in his mind seemed to…snap…

I won’t believe it unless you nod,” Mo Ran said to the man in the coffin. His expression was placid, as if fully expecting the person before him to wake up. “Chu Wanning, give me a nod. Just one nod, and I’ll believe you, and I won’t hate you anymore. Just one nod, okay?” But Chu Wanning only lay there, cold and expressionless, as if it made no difference to him whether Mo Ran hated him or not. He himself had left with a clear conscience, abandoning the living to their guilt.

He couldn’t remember anymore. Not clearly. In that life, Mo Ran had been entangled with Chu Wanning for so long that many things had become blurred at the edges. Eventually, like a beast, he had known only one thing: that Chu Wanning was his. Even if he didn’t care for Chu Wanning, he was still his to sunder and to ruin. He’d have preferred to rip Chu Wanning apart with his own hands—bite through his ribcage and tear out his organs like a beast—than allow someone else to touch him.

Who do you think did this? Your perfect little disciple, Xue Meng! If he had aimed his Longcheng just a hair to the side, I’d be dead! So you tell me why the fuck I should let him go! As far as you’re concerned, his life is a life, but mine counts for nothing. Is that it?!” In his fury, Mo Ran grabbed Chu Wanning’s hand and pressed it to his bloody wound. “Didn’t you want to stop me? Here’s your chance; go on then, dig out my heart! Chu Wanning, why don’t you just dig out my fucking heart?!

With his own hands, Chu Xun ripped open the gash in his chest, dug into his flesh, and grabbed his no-longer beating heart. Slowly, inch by inch, he tore it out. Blood dripped from the heart, which was enveloped in a golden-red flame. It was Chu Xun’s spiritual core, the last flare of light from a candle that had burned out. “Take…it…” He lifted the flaming heart and held it out in front of him. “Take it…take…it…” Droplets of blood fell only to become so many red haitang blossoms, flaring brilliantly as they drifted downward.

Mo Ran only let the bestial savagery in his eyes slip for a moment, but Chu Wanning caught a glimpse of it. He glanced at Mo Ran’s face, his own graceful, scholarly mien completely devoid of expression. “What are you thinking about?” Shit! Tianwen hadn’t yet been withdrawn! Mo Ran once again felt the vine binding him squeeze and twist, making his organs feel like they were going to wrench into mush. He screamed in agony, letting loose the thoughts in his mind. “Chu Wanning! You think you’re so tough?! Watch me fuck you to death !” Silence fell. Chu Wanning was speechless. Even Xue Meng was dumbfounded. Tianwen abruptly returned to Chu Wanning’s palm, transforming into specks of golden light before eventually disappearing out of sight. Tianwen manifested from Chu Wanning’s essence, and it could appear when summoned and disappear at will. Xue Meng’s face was pale as he stammered, “Sh-Sh-Shizun…” Chu Wanning didn’t speak. His long, inky, delicate lashes were lowered as he looked at his own palm for a long moment. Then he raised his eyes, face unmoved other than for how it had become slightly icier than before. For a long moment, he pinned Mo Ran with a glare that said, “This beastly disciple deserves death.” Then he spoke, voice low: “Tianwen is broken. I’m going to fix it.” After dropping this statement, Chu Wanning turned and left. Xue Meng wasn’t a bright child. “H-how can a holy weapon like Tianwen be broken?” Chu Wanning heard him. He turned and once again used that “this beastly disciple deserves death” gaze to glance at him. Xue Meng felt a chill run down his spine.

The ones he despised most were those Nangong Liu. An ass-kisser who would kneel on the ground and lick another's hemorrhoid so long as there was something in it for him. Fuck. a hemorrhoid-sucker, even.

It’s only human to want the things we can’t have. That’s got nothing to do with age. I never had anyone to tell me bedtime stories when I was small, and I always thought about how nice it would be to have someone like that.

The scar… That scar! He had suddenly remembered that, on Chu Wanning’s chest, where his heart lay—there was a scar.