Fatty Mo the Fifth

The fractured ink pellet rolled a few times, its jet-black surface gathering dust and turning ashen white. Gu Fei lifted her chin slightly, exuding a haughty arrogance and disdain; she did not so much as glance at the broken ink pellet.

“Where did this ruffian come from? How dare you cause trouble in the Little Ink Workshop!” A thunderous voice, loud enough to shake the ears, boomed from the second floor. Soon after, a middle-aged man descended the stairs, dressed in a sapphire robe patterned with subtle plum blossoms.

At the sound of that voice, Gu Fei’s hand tightened around the armrest of her wheelchair. Nanny Ku cast her a worried look, only to see that after several breaths, Gu Fei’s expression had calmed. She turned her head coolly toward the approaching man and sneered, “Causing trouble? Hmph. Such crudely made rubbish dares to bear the name of ink?”

Every face in the hall changed drastically. In recent years, the Ink Clan’s branch in Yizhou had been ascending in prominence, faintly becoming the region’s leading power. No one expected someone would dare provoke them so openly today.

The middle-aged man’s scholarly, pale face was marked by a neat mustache, making him appear quite young. He maintained a composed demeanor, the quiet before the storm. “May I ask, young lady, who you are? Has the Little Ink Family ever offended you?”

Nanny Ku turned the wheelchair. Gu Fei fixed her eyes upon him, her rosy lips lifting in mockery. “Little Ink Family? Castoffs who were expelled from the capital, that’s all. After a few decades, you’ve truly forgotten your roots, dare to call yourselves the Little Ink Family. What a joke.”

Her every word was as sharp as a blade, slicing straight to the heart, leaving no mercy at all.

As expected, veins bulged on the man’s forehead, his eyes blazing with fury; even his fists clenched and relaxed several times. “If you have come seeking trouble, then do not blame me, Master Fifth Ink, for showing no mercy.”

Master Fifth Ink?

Gu Fei’s almond eyes narrowed, her long lashes casting shadows that hid the shifting depths in her dark pupils. She stared unblinkingly at the man, and in a heartbeat, a glacial smile played at the corner of her lips. “Master Fifth Ink? Mo Cheng?”

With a flick of his sleeve, Fifth Master Ink snorted coldly from his nose. “Since you know who I am, buy that broken ink and leave quickly, and I shall…”

But before he could finish, Gu Fei suddenly called out, “Fatty Fifth Ink!”

Mo Cheng’s words cut off instantly. His mouth hung open, but no sound emerged, as if someone were gripping his throat. He stared at Gu Fei, shock written all over his face.

The smile at Gu Fei’s lips deepened. She folded her hands in her lap and looked at Mo Cheng with amusement. “Fatty Fifth Ink, you’ve certainly slimmed down a lot these days.”

No one knew the storm raging in Mo Cheng’s heart. His hand trembled, his eyes wide as he swallowed several times before he managed, with difficulty, to ask, “Who… are you?” How could she know that nickname?

That was what Mo Cheng, the Fifth Master, did not say aloud.

Today, in Yizhou, Mo Cheng was a man of considerable influence, but aside from members of the Little Ink Family and a few old friends from the past, almost no one knew that ten years ago, Mo Cheng had been so rotund that his features were nearly indistinguishable, a mass of flesh that made everyone sigh and shake their heads.

Gu Fei’s eyes curved in a gentle laugh. Watching Mo Cheng’s expression, she commented with a touch of nostalgia, “See? I can still recognize you, but you can’t remember me anymore.”

Mo Cheng stared at her, unblinking, his gaze growing ever more familiar as a blurry figure flashed through his mind like lightning, leaving him in disbelief. “You’re, you…”

He never finished his sentence. Suppressing his tumultuous emotions, Mo Cheng swept his cold gaze around the hall, then said, “Miss, please come upstairs.”

With that, he signaled a servant to help carry Gu Fei’s wheelchair up to the second floor.

The scene ended almost as soon as it began, leaving the onlookers below feeling unsatisfied, though their curiosity about Gu Fei’s identity only grew. After all, she was a slender young woman, yet confined to a wheelchair—a story in itself.

Let the thoughts downstairs be as they may—meanwhile, Gu Fei was carried into a private room upstairs. Once alone, she asked softly, “Uncle Fifth, do you truly not recognize A-Fei?”

That single "Uncle Fifth" was like a thunderclap in Mo Cheng’s ears. Though he had been sitting solemnly in the seat of honor, at her words, he shot to his feet, sending the teacup beside him clattering to the floor, his face as though he had seen a ghost.

Gu Fei took in his every reaction. Her eyes darkened, countless thoughts swirling within her before sinking into the bottomless waters of her heart.

“Mo Fei?” Mo Cheng’s lips moved several times before he finally spoke her name. The shock in his eyes was as clear as a mirror, reflecting everything.

Gu Fei was silent for a long while. Her feelings toward that name were complicated beyond words. Now, hearing it once more, she felt an almost ancient nostalgia as if a lifetime had passed. “Uncle Fifth still remembers A-Fei? Should I be sad or glad?”

With her confirmation, Mo Cheng hurried to the door, glanced this way and that to ensure no one was listening, then shut it firmly with a bang. He returned to Gu Fei, scrutinizing her from head to toe, his gaze lingering particularly on her legs. “Your legs?”

“Ruined,” Gu Fei replied offhandedly, as if recounting someone else’s misfortune, unrelated to herself.

Mo Cheng sighed, slumping into a chair. His eyes flicked to Nanny Ku, his meaning clear.

Gu Fei understood at once. “She’s one of us, Uncle Fifth. You needn’t worry.”

At this, Mo Cheng’s expression shifted uncertainly. He pursed his lips, at a loss for words.

Gu Fei, on the other hand, showed no concern. It was as if she was not at all afraid that the others of the Little Ink Family might learn her identity. Mist drifted through her dark eyes as she recalled the origins of the Little Ink Family in Yizhou.

Years ago, the Mo family of the capital had expelled two brothers without the slightest talent for ink-making to Yizhou. Even so, the pair managed to establish themselves in the ink trade, building up the Little Ink Family into a thriving enterprise over a few generations. The elder of the two became the head of the family, and leadership passed to his eldest son. After the previous generation passed away, the Little Ink Family had only seen three or four generations.

Mo Cheng was the younger brother of the present head of the Mo clan’s branch, Mo Yan.

As fate would have it, her own father, Mo Hui, was the sole descendant of another branch, second in rank, and only distantly related to Mo Yan and Mo Cheng. By the time she was born, the relationship was even more distant. Though they all lived under the same roof and bore the surname Mo, her father, lacking both the talent for ink-making and the acumen for business, occupied an awkward position in the household.

What she remembered most clearly was that of everyone in the family, Mo Cheng had always treated her kindly. Perhaps it was because Mo Cheng, once burdened with so much fat, was looked down upon by all, just as she herself—being of a collateral branch—was unwelcome.

Mo Cheng, being older, would always bring her along to play. When she was little and unruly, she would call him "Fatty Fifth Ink" as everyone else did.

“Leave.”

Gu Fei, still lost in her memories, was startled by Mo Cheng’s cold and unfeeling command.

She turned to him, puzzled. “Uncle Fifth, why do you say that? Aren’t you happy that A-Fei has returned?”