Ji Chun approached the carriage and lifted the curtain quietly, peering inside. Su Ran was asleep, his head resting against the wall, his breathing slow and even. Not wanting to disturb him, Ji Chun circled to the front, where the driver dozed in his seat. He gave the man a gentle pat, rousing him.
"He's still sleeping," Ji Chun whispered. "I'll fetch our things."
The driver nodded, quickly hopping down to make way. Ji Chun ducked inside, reaching for the bundled bedding—only to freeze as Su Ran's eyes fluttered open. A hazy mist lingered in his gaze, his expression softened by sleep.
"Is the house ready?" Su Ran murmured.
"Yes. I'll make the bed so you can rest properly." Ji Chun's voice was unconsciously tender.
"No need." Su Ran stretched, stifling a yawn before pointing at the supplies. "Take these inside first. I'm going to wash my face at the river."
Ji Chun allowed him, gathering the bedding and other things. He carried them into the inner room, where he unfurled the quilt—wide enough for two—over the freshly cleaned bed. Next, he arranged the mirror on the dressing table, smoothed out the tablecloth, and set out the teapot and cups.
Su Ran returned as Ji Chun worked, his sharp eyes immediately spotting the half-emptied bags on the table. Without a word, he snatched up the pots and pans and strode to the kitchen, stowing them in the cupboards. Though their purchases had seemed excessive earlier, unpacking took little time. Bit by bit, the lifeless house grew warmer, filled with the humble clutter of daily living.
"There's more in the carriage," Ji Chun said once they'd emptied the last bag. He excused himself, retrieving a few small parcels and tipping the driver with silver taels before sending him off. Back inside, he unwrapped the bundles—medicines from the old doctor, flower seeds, books, tea leaves, needles and thread, coarse-spun clothes, and shoes—and tucked them into the cupboard for later use.
Su Ran entered, drying his hands. He took in Ji Chun's weary slump at the table and arched a brow. "Tired?" It was no wonder; the monk hadn't slept during the jarring carriage ride, he had labored with the villagers to clean, and now had spent hours organizing. The afternoon sun already slanted low.
"It's nothing. I'll visit Xiao Leihu for wine and meat. If you're hungry, there are cakes on the table." Ji Chun rose, calculating the time—they had barely an hour before dusk and the promised feast.
Su Ran glanced at his own belly, then waved a hand in dismissal. "Go ahead."
Ji Chun ventured out, asking passersby for directions to Xiao Leihu's home. When he knocked, a woman answered, a child balanced on her hip. She blinked at him—a stranger, and one whose shaved head and monkish bearing clearly puzzled her—before recalling the village chief's news of new arrivals.
"You're Xiao Leihu family?" Ji Chun asked.
"I'm his wife, Chen Hua," she said, ushering him in. "Call me Chen Dasao[1]. First day here? If you need anything, just ask."
"Thank you, Chen Dasao." Ji Chun adjusted his address, mindful of local customs.
In the east room, Chen Dasao set her child on a stool, seized a cleaver, and with practiced strokes divided a slab of pork. "This should suffice!" She gestured to the larger portion. "Where's your basket?"
"Basket?" Ji Chun blanked.
She laughed. "You can't carry meat barehanded! Here—take this one as a gift. The total's two silver taels." She packed the pork into a woven basket and handed it over.
Ji Chun paid, thanked her, and turned to leave—only to nearly collide with Su Ran, who'd materialized behind him. His partner eyed the basket, then raked a teasing gaze over Ji Chun's frame.
"Well, monk," Su Ran drawled, lips quirking. "Who knew you'd take to village life so well? Basket on arm, bartering like a proper housewife."
Ji Chun flushed, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
Su Ran's smirk deepened. Without the monk's robes, Ji Chun's tall, broad-shouldered frame was even more striking, his features no longer stern but quietly handsome. "Face it," Su Ran said, poking his chest. "You're meant to be a layman."
Ji Chun could only sigh at Su Ran's teasing. Looking down at the basket in his hand, he realized he no longer resembled a monk at all. Considering their current circumstances, he quipped half-jokingly, "If I truly return to secular life, then you'll really have to be my wife, Sect Leader Su."
Su Ran arched an eyebrow. This monk actually dared to tease him back. Though not truly angry, he shot Ji Chun a sharp glare. "I'd worry more about your own dignity being compromised," he retorted.
They entered the kitchen together. Ji Chun set down the basket and stared at the meat inside for a long moment before asking hesitantly, "Do you know how to cook?"
"I'm the leader of a Demonic Cult—since when would I dirty my hands with such menial tasks?" Su Ran plucked a washed cucumber from the counter, took a crisp bite, and lounged lazily against the wall, watching Ji Chun with amused concern.
"Alright, I'll try then," Ji Chun conceded. Having spent his temple life with dedicated cooking monks, he'd only observed kitchen work from afar. He began washing and chopping the ingredients, then waited for the fire to build before adding oil to the wok. When the oil simmered with heat, he tossed in the meat, stir-frying it before adding vegetables and seasoning.
After a few uncertain minutes, he plated the dish and set it before Su Ran with tentative chopsticks. "Would you... like to try it?"
Su Ran accepted without ceremony. One bite was enough - he spat it out immediately. "Raw and flavorless!" he declared with disgust.
Ji Chun's brow furrowed as he watched Su Ran reject the food. Neither of them being competent cooks posed a real problem for tonight's feast. As a monk, he couldn't even taste the meat dishes to adjust seasoning. He lowered his head, deep in thought.
"Monk," Su Ran drawled unexpectedly, "I could help you."
Ji Chun's head snapped up, disbelief clear in his eyes. "You can cook?"
"Of course," Su Ran lifted his chin arrogantly. "There's nothing in this world beyond my capabilities."
"But you just said—"
"Do you want my help or not?" Su Ran interrupted, fixing Ji Chun with a challenging stare.
"Mnn," Ji Chun agreed quickly. Secretly, he was curious to see the haughty sect leader engaged in something so domestic—he incongruity somehow made Su Ran feel more approachable.
"My assistance isn't free," Su Ran stipulated, his gaze turning calculating. "From now on, all trivial chores..."
Ji Chun understood before he finished. This man simply enjoyed watching him work while lounging about. Yet somehow, he'd grown accustomed to this dynamic. "I'll handle them," he agreed.
Su Ran nodded, then added slyly, "And you'll obey my orders?"
Ji Chun hesitated only briefly before nodding. "Alright."
With their bargain struck, Ji Chun rinsed the wok while Su Ran rolled up his sleeves. Though initially awkward with the cooking implements, Su Ran soon found his rhythm—oil sizzling, ingredients dancing in the wok. Before long, fragrant steam filled the kitchen.
When the dish was served, Su Ran tasted it first, then turned to Ji Chun with a piece of meat held aloft on his chopsticks. "Eat!" he commanded.
Ji Chun recoiled as if burned. "Sect Leader Su, I'm a monk," he protested weakly.
"Unless you want me to poison the entire village tonight," Su Ran threatened, advancing until the morsel nearly touched Ji Chun's lips, "you'll obey."
Trapped, Ji Chun opened his mouth like a man facing execution, swallowing without tasting. He exhaled shakily, silently reciting "Amitabha."
"Now try this," Su Ran ordered with wicked satisfaction, pointing at another dish. Waiting for the monk to break his vows on his own would take a life time—so Su Ran decided to accelerate the process. Binding Ji Chun to him through broken precepts seemed the surest way to ensure his loyalty.
"Amitabha, Sect Leader Su, I am a monk. I truly cannot—"
"Oh? A monk?" Su Ran interrupted with a sneer. "What monk buys wine and meat? What monk already ate meat just now? What monk hides in a village waiting for his child to be born?"
Ji Chun's face paled then flushed under the barrage of words. This man's tongue remained as sharp as ever. Seeing Su Ran's growing irritation, he surrendered. "I'll eat," he conceded, bracing himself for another culinary ordeal.
[1] Honorific: Sister in Law