As he was expecting, the figure of a man rushed around the corner turning on a heel. Fu Ran was already prepared, so he quickly moved and pinned the figure against the wall. His blade pressed up against the man’s neck and chest. A sweet burnt scent suddenly assaulted his nose.

Relieved, he thought, Oh, thank gods.

While Fu Ran’s lips threatened to pull into a smile, with his unease now alleviated, a sob broke him from the action. His face twisted in concern as he lifted his gaze. Tian Han wore a strange expression, one not fitting of a tyrant emperor. Any words that Fu Ran had wanted to say were gone in an instant.

The skin below Tian Han’s eyes were pink, and he was obviously holding back a wetness in his eyes. He was crying? That wasn’t right, at all.

His expression matched Fu Ran’s, wide and fearful, and they were locked into a stare for many silent minutes. Tian Han’s lips trembled with a barely audible mumble, “...zun… rry…”

“What…?” Fu Ran couldn’t make out the words, but he swallowed. He was suddenly desperate to hear them.

Sounding like he was choking on another sob, he said, “Shizun, I’m…” Tian Han’s eyelids squinted shut, eyelashes hiding those shimmering gold eyes.

Tian Han had let his weight slump and slide against the building behind his back. Despite being pinned to the wall so suddenly, there was no effort from him to fight back. With the loss of a few inches of height, their faces were close together now.

Instead of pushing Shi Wei Ji away, he merely pretended the sword was no longer present. Tian Han’s hands raised to clutch his headband in a nervous action, and he pinched and pulled at the light fabric.

The Tyrant Emperor looked delicate and vulnerable?

This expression, distraught and pained, almost forced Fu Ran to act instinctively. He wanted to pat that ashen hair and offer his sympathy.

However that vanished when he felt a pair of hands snaked to his sides. With a gentle, but firm, grip, fingers dug into his white robes, and when he lowered his gaze, the hold tightened.

Fu Ran nearly choked at the brutish and blatant, disrespectfully-intimate touch. This insolent tyrant emperor! He nearly howled. Instead his anger came out in a quiet squeak, because those hands on his hips moved further back to rest just above his rear. They were far too close to touching what… Need. Not. Be. Touched!

Flustered, he turned begrudging eyes to look at the tyrant. But the sight shocked him rigid.

Tian Han was clearly grimacing in pain, the redness under his eyes spread to dust even his cheeks with light blush. For a few moments, his fingers kneaded into the skin just above Fu Ran’s ass, and then sunk lower.

A terribly high-pitched noise escaped his lips, leaving Fu Ran dismayed and upset, but Tian Han pulled him into a tighter embrace. The heat of embarrassment was making Fu Ran's mind feel weak, unable to think of words to deny. And with Shi Wei Ji pressed between them, all of his focus had been put into his efforts to avoid slicing up the tyrant emperor.

While Tian Han’s hands pawed continuously, the realization hit Fu Ran quite harshly, that his thin inner robes were not providing any protection from the touches. It could have easily been mistaken for direct skin contact, and this lit a flame in his chest.

“Have you no shame?! Back up!” Fu Ran barked, eliciting little change in the expression of his captor.

Tian Han appeared saddened and he mumbled, "Is this disciple no longer allowed?" He seemed hesitant, but his hands lifted again to rest on Fu Ran's waist.

When he spoke again, his words were reckless whines. “Shizun, I missed you-- No, I mean, I’m sorry. It is understandble why Shizun no longer allows this disciple's wishful actions--” He swallowed and his words trailed to nothing. Tian Han looked away, like his gaze was terrified to linger on Fu Ran’s for too long.

Next time he spoke, his voice had grown even softer and apologetic. “This stupid disciple should have never said you were...”

Said I was what?

It had grown plainly obvious where Wan Yu had picked up this horrid habit from. Tian Han seemed to lose and drop his sentences all the same, and right at the most important parts. That, along with inappropriate touches, was driving him mad.

Instead of leaning away with Fu Ran's command, Tian Han pushed closer, pressing his nose into the crook of his neck.

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Like a shock of lightning just ran through his body, Fu Ran stiffened and his eyes widened in horror. Near nuzzling, Tian Han pressed his lips against the soft expanse of jawline beneath the ear.

He was never like this before?! Not at all! So what has changed?!

Hot breath puffed out in various desperate calls of “Shizun,” near flushed skin.

Tian Han somehow completely ignored the fact that his torso was pressed against a threatening blade, as he continued actions of misguided affection.

Fu Ran struggled, trying to take a few steps back, but he wasn’t even allowed one. He had no ability to fight against the hold and soft kisses that made his skin crawl.

A palm left his waist, and traced the line up his spine. Touches as light as air, mixed with miserable whispers, fogged the teacher’s head. Fu Ran felt dizzy and limp, yet the weight of his body was easily held upright with a single sturdy arm.

Only when that palm reached the back of his neck, did panic flood over the heat of the moment. Fear was thick in his mind with that one touch.

Fu Ran snapped. “Tian Han,” he hissed, words quick and harsh.

It was only his name, but at that moment, the name “Tian Han” seemed to take on a new meaning to the Tyrant Emperor.

The touch withdrew from Fu Ran as if his skin had suddenly burned the Tyrant Emperor’s hand. Tian Han backed against the wall frantically, an audible thud sounding when he crashed into the brick.

The warmth of closeness vanished and Fu Ran was left with the breeze of early morning instead. Against the sweat that had appeared over his body, it was chilling.

Tian Han pressed his cheek to the wall, avoiding a waiting gaze. The gold of his eyes was practically invisible with the tight arched slit.

Shi Wei Ji shook in Fu Ran’s hand, as for just a moment, he was overwhelmed with a defensive bloodlust. Nightmare-induced traumas urged him to slice right through the currently subdued tyrant. Fu Ran could see a thin red line of blood near Tian Han’s neck and collarbone where he almost did just that.

Had he not backed away when he did, the injury may have been much more grave.

Fu Ran pressed his own back into the far side of the stone wall, well away from Tian Han. That was far too close, he mentally panicked, bringing his free hand up to touch at his unmarred neck. Not once had his stare left the man in front of him, and it stayed there for many indiscernible minutes, watching for sudden movements.

At some point during the one sided stare off, Tian Han’s face had gone blank. Despite feelings calming down, Fu Ran refused to put away his blade.

After what felt like an hour, Tian Han managed to say, “Sorry. I mistook you for someone else.” He sounded awfully unemotional, but still forced his lips into a fake smile. “I am glad to see you safe.”

Sure. Fu Ran wanted to call him out on the lying behavior, though it did seem true that he wasn’t treating him like usual.

The worsening redness still present in the tyrant’s eyes wasn't easily ignored, neither were his shaking fists. Seeing the near pathetic state, Fu Ran didn’t want to threaten him further. He put away Shi Wei Ji and softly muttered, “Thank you for going back to look for me. This Peak Master appreciates your dedication.” It sounded like high praise, but Fu Ran spoke it laced with annoyance.

Fu Ran was the first to leave, but Tian Han quietly followed after him.

Silence was quite normal between the two, but this time, it felt deafening. Fu Ran half expected him to say something, but he didn’t.

***

Arriving back to the hotel, the woman behind the counter looked exhausted and didn’t even say a single thing. With cold looks on the men’s faces, no woman would have wanted to speak with them at all.

Even before unlocking the door, Fu Ran did his best to paste a smile back onto his face. The children did not deserve his scorn, after all. They could remain blissfully unaware of any matters between adults. The door swung open effortlessly, and he was met with happy cries of “Welcome back!” Well, It was entirely Lin An. She had run up to greet him, only to receive a small pat on the head. This seemed to satiate her well enough.

One, two, three, four. Good. All children present.

Despite the heavy remnants of stress, Fu Ran kept his expression devoid of it, but fatigue and pain wouldn’t leave him so easily.

If it vanished with merely a simple show of teeth, he would have tried it more often.

After today’s task, he came back with new ideas of trauma for his nightmares to abuse, as well as several potential broken ribs. His hand rested on his stomach, where his fake had kicked him, and he fought back a wince.

It hurt.

Fu Ran sighed, and his gaze had locked onto the only thing he wanted: The bed. Walking into the room, where Wan Yu sat, he pressed his knees up against the bed and crumbled onto the thin mattress. With a bounce of his body, black hair sprawled out in a mess around him. Through half-closed eyes, he watched as three sets of eyes stared at him in horror. Here it comes, Fu Ran smiled.

A chorus of “Shizun!” broke out over the room. This one was not just Lin An, but all of his little disciples.

Tian Han chuckled like he had forgotten their previous entanglement and reassured the children. "Your Shizun is fine!”

Since Wan Yu had moved onto the middle of the mattress to inspect the condition of his teacher, Tian Han took his seat by the headboard. Wan Yu’s brows lowered the tiniest amount.

Fu Ran had never seen him do this before… he puffed up his cheek in dismay. Is this how Wan Yu looks when he is annoyed? He almost wanted to chuckle, but the harsh landing on the bed caused aches in his chest.

Even flipping onto his back was a harrowing endeavor. Only upon closing his eyes, and streamlining his breath, was he able to feel a touch of peace past the tension and exhaustion. He wanted to hold tight to this feeling as much as possible.

The mattress wasn't nice and fluffy like the one in his Xingti Pavilion. However, right now it felt like a cloud. He didn’t even mind the occasional touches of a tiny hand on his forehead, or soft whispers of “Shizun,” over and over again.

It had been a long time since he slept with his legs half off the bed, his knees bent at a sharp angle and feet flat on the floor. He could feel discomfort set in already. Fu Ran knew his body, and knew that by the time he woke up, his legs would be gnawing at him.

But the feeling of sleep was too good to pass up.