"Nothing."
Su Ran placed his hand on the monk's shoulder, sensing his panic. He gave a gentle pat and said lightly, "I see you're not in a good mood today?"
"Uh, no." Trapped under Su Ran's touch, Ji Chun stiffened, unable to rise. Suddenly, Su Ran leaned down, his breath warm against Ji Chun's ear—low, intoxicating, and laced with false gentleness. "Hmm? Tell me about it."
Ji Chun's breathing grew ragged. The impulse surging within him threatened to shatter his restraint, leaving him nearly helpless. His voice emerged hoarse, strained with suppression. "Sect Leader Su—"
Before he could finish, Su Ran stepped closer, tilting Ji Chun's chin up with a firm grip. Cold lips brushed the corner of his mouth, with Su Ran's breath flooding his senses. Ji Chun froze, eyes wide, yielding to the kiss.
Their breaths mingled, hot and tangled. Ji Chun could barely lift his arms, utterly powerless to resist. All he could do was stare at Su Ran through labored breaths as the man slowly circled in front of him. Strong arms looped around his neck, a palm cradling his head in a tender caress—before possessive lips claimed his once more.
Without realizing it, Ji Chun's own arms slid around Su Ran's back, pulling him closer. His eyes fluttered shut as his hands wandered down the curve of Su Ran's waist, gripping tighter, desperate to erase even the sliver of space between them.
In one violent motion, Su Ran seized his collar and yanked him off the chair. Dizzy from the kiss and the sudden movement, Ji Chun lurched forward—only for Su Ran to slam him down, their bodies crashing together as the man claimed his place atop him.
Ji Chun stared up, pulse racing at the man's wicked smirk. Yet propriety anchored him. Even alone, he blocked Su Ran's hands. "Sect Leader Su, this cannot—"
"Why not?" Su Ran caught his wrist, thumb brushing flushed skin. His smile turned predatory. "You've been mine for a long time. You'll take me whenever I want. Understood?"
A sharp rip tore through the air—fabric splitting, baring Ji Chun's chest. For a fleeting moment, surrender flickered in his mind. But discipline won. He forced sternness into his voice. "Get off."
Su Ran ignored him, crushing their lips together—until his swollen belly pressed between them, killing the heat. Irritated, he shoved back, glaring at the offending bulge. A kick struck the bedframe. "Strip." Su Ran snapped, his irritation over his swollen belly leaving no patience to coax the monk. He tilted his chin up in cold command.
Ji Chun naturally refused. Rising from the bed he stood, clutching his torn robes. Then it struck him—Liang Yi's words about a pregnant body's cravings. No wonder Su Ran was so unrestrained.
"Sleep," Ji Chun urged, guilt pricking him. His own body burned, but he couldn't—wouldn't—repeat past mistakes. If only he weren't bound by vows…
Su Ran advanced, teeth bared. "I said strip."
Ji Chun exhaled. "Rest. It's late."
"Fine!" Su Ran snarled. A flick of his wrist snuffed the candles. Darkness swallowed the room. The quilt rustled violently before silence fell—heavy with fury.
As night deepened, Ji Chun removed his outer robe and lay on the bed. He carefully tucked the quilt around Su Ran before closing his eyes. That night, his heart lay bare before him—no more delusions, no more lies. His kindness toward Su Ran had never been pure; it was tainted by a monk's forbidden desires.
If only I were an ordinary man, he thought. If only my heart held no loyalty to Shaolin. Then I could follow my true feelings freely. But he couldn't. He had to suppress it all—the yearning, the hunger for this man.
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The next morning, Ji Chun rose early to prepare breakfast as usual. Before he could enter the inner room to wake Su Ran, the man was already up, his face stormy as he washed in silence. They ate at the same table like strangers. Ji Chun tried several times to speak, but Su Ran ignored him, leaving the air between them frozen.
Something hollow gnawed at Ji Chun's chest. It had taken so long to bridge the distance between them, to grow close. And now, the person who mattered most treated him as nothing. He didn't know how to fix this.
Then—a knock at the courtyard gate.
Ji Chun opened the door to find Liang Zheng, the son of Doctor Liang from the day before. Surprised, he assumed the doctor had sent him with a message. "What's wrong?"
"Hello, Ji Shushu," the boy said timidly, peering up at him. "I'm here to see Su Shushu."
Ji Chun stepped aside, letting the child in. Strange, he mused. This boy isn't afraid of Su Ran at all. Why seek him out?
"Shizun," Liang Zheng stopped a few paces from the table, hesitating under Su Ran's icy demeanor.
At the sight of his apprentice, Su Ran's expression softened slightly. "Have you eaten?"
"Yes, Shizun," the boy replied obediently.
"Good. Let's go." Su Ran stood abruptly, sparing Ji Chun only a frigid glance before striding toward the door.
Ji Chun frowned. Since when did the boy start calling him 'Shizun'? Before he could ask, Su Ran was already leaving. "Where are you going?"
"None of your concern." The reply was curt. The door shut behind Su Ran, leaving Liang Zheng blinking in confusion. The boy turned back to Ji Chun and whispered, "Ji Shushu, we're leaving," before trotting after his master.
Alone in the empty courtyard, Ji Chun stared at the spot where Su Ran had stood, his chest aching. He endured the dull throb of loss, mechanically tidying the table and the house before sinking onto the bench outside. Like a ghost trapped in memory, he sat motionless, grasping for something—anything—to occupy his hands.
There was nothing left to do here.
Perhaps a walk in the mountain forest would clear his mind. Since arriving, Su Ran had eaten vegetarian meals with him for days—why not forage for fresh ingredients? Maybe then…
At that moment, Ji Chun forgot everything—forgot the vows, the discipline, even the weight of killing. There was only one thought left:
That man.