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Ash and Honey[BL]
32 – My Disciples part 1

32 – My Disciples part 1

When he awoke, a gentle wetness coated his cheeks, but the coolness of tears was nice against his flush. His heart rate had grown high, most likely caused by his quickening breaths. It had been a long time since his dreams had made him feel something different. Why does my mind have to send me through tribulations? Do I hate myself enough to second guess everything?

Calm down, calm down, please.

Fu Ran was about to move, to gently offer calming pats to his rapid heart, but his actions were interrupted. A gentle stroke moved along his hair as he had been stressing, and only now had he become hyper aware of it. Fingers gently combed through things of his black locks, in just a rhythmic motion. It was comfortable, but still unwanted.

His eyes might as well have been forcibly held open, because there was no way he could shut them now. Fu Ran swallowed. Staring at the darkened corner of a fancy red room was all he could manage. A shred of daylight shined in through the window, but the blinds near his bedside had been tightly drawn and covered by bamboo shutters.

The sound of two girls giggling came from a short while away, but they were hastily hushed by Tian Han’s deep voice. The hushing came from much, much, closer. Fu Ran shuddered. A thin blanket covered his body, so he clutched the fabric and tugged it over the bottom half of his face.

The hand making gentle motions on his hair withdrew at a fast pace. “Is Shizun awake…?” Tian Han whispered, his voice low and rich. It was clear that he was unsure, and didn’t want to commit to fully being loud if Fu Ran were still asleep.

“Mn,” Fu Ran only responded with a small noise, and shuffled under the blankets.

Lin An squealed once Fu Ran made a sound, and her voice loudly filled the room with her excitement. “Shizun, Shizun, Shizun, you gotta meet Su Biyu!”

“Hey! Shut it! What if Shizun isn’t awake!” Despite Meng Xiao’s good intentions. If Lin An hadn’t woken up her Shizun, then his raised voice would have certainly done the job.

Fu Ran sighed when the soft thumps of pillows slammed into poor Lin An. She whined and cried even though she had taken a sword attack just yesterday. Fu Ran slowly pulled himself to sit up. Blankets had been covering his body, and he was laying with a single pillow comfortably beneath his neck. His eyes felt heavy still, but he didn’t particularly desire dreaming more. Something about his dream seemed fascinating because it was unique, but different didn’t mean good.

Looking at Tian Han still confirmed his feelings: he still felt nervous. However, it was a bit wrong to just label him a Tyrant Emperor, now. Tian Han wasn’t like he imagined, and it didn’t make sense.

He just… seems so different from my dreams. Fu Ran frowned, growing upset by the fact that Tian Han was not looking at him. He wanted to see the features, and see how his body reacted.

Perhaps his idea of the Tyrant Emperor could be overwritten with a new image? The image of someone who, despite also being without sleep, comforted him while he slept through an entire nightmare.

Why did he feel so guilty?

Slow and steady breaths eased Fu Ran’s stress, as he inspected the handsome side view, the only angle he was given to look at. Tian Han had no clear intentions of turning his gaze to look at the Peak Master, and instead his body was rigid, like he could feel the judgment of prejudice gawking at him.

Fu Ran’s eyes were torn away when Lin An patted her hand on the mattress.

“Shizun! Shizun!”

Nearly chuckling at her insistence so soon after waking up, Fu Ran’s brows furrowed but he spoke with a soft tone, “I hear you, I hear you. What is it, Lin An?”

“The girl you brought back woke up this morning!” She nearly jumped in place, clearly not favoring any injuries from the previous day. Kids heal so quickly, and it was baffling. Leaving the bedside, Lin An disappeared to the other side of the room. When she came back, she was dragging an unwilling girl behind her.

This time she whispered, “Go introduce yourself.” Lin An pulled the other little girl behind her. Fu Ran heard the name earlier: Su Biyu, but he decided to keep his expression neutral and wait to see how she would introduce herself. Perhaps it was a bit mischievous, but introductions were so very important in the world, and he liked to see how young children learned to do so.

Su Biyu was looking better now, and it seemed that Lin An had dressed her up in an extra set of robes she brought with her on the trip. She already looked like a brand new disciple. Her hair was put up into twin tails, tied with teal ribbons. Previously her hair was in buns, but her new style still suited her, though Fu Ran guessed that it was a style chosen by Lin An. The duo of young girls paused in the middle of the room, and shared several hushed whispers.

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Young girls are the same no matter what city they are from, huh?

It took a few moments of pushing from Lin An, but Su Biyu finally bowed. Quickly, she said, “I am Su Biyu, it is my absolute pleasure to meet this… Peak Master. This one cannot… This one cannot repay enough.”

Amusement struck Fu Ran’s face. Su Biyu talked like she had practiced this over and over, and even bowed like a proper disciple. Just how much had two girls been allowed to play pretend while he slept?

“Thank you, for saving me,” she added sweetly, though a touch of guilt weighed on her expression.

Fu Ran waved his hand. “It was only a natural action, and any An Xian Yun Peak disciple would have done the same. Lin An, Meng Xiao, and… Where is Wan Yu?” Something was definitely wrong this entire time, but somehow he had missed the most obvious thing. An entire disciple was gone, again!

He searched around the room, but he only seemed to notice something amiss when he was about to stand. A weight lay around his hips. With a furrowed brow he lifted the bundle of white sheets in between him and Tian Han and peered under. Tiny fingers tangled into his white robes, and a sleeping Wan Yu lay still.

“Never mind,” Fu Ran said in resigned acceptance. While petting the loose ashen hair, he noticed small shimmering tears in the corners of Wan Yu’s eyes. Did he have a nightmare as well? Poor thing. He ran his fingers through layered hair. Wan Yu seemed to settle into his lap more with this comfort, and his little mumbled noises couldn’t be understood as words.

Leaning back, Fu Ran simply gave up the idea of moving, lest he wake the child on his hip. His shoulders pressed into the headboard, and his neck bumped carelessly against Tian Han’s hand.

Even though he had just spent a great deal of time procuring his stolen disciple, he still couldn’t forget the mission he was tasked. The time for rest and celebration would come later, so it was frustrating that he was doing just that.

He groaned. “With so much going on recently... I am not even positive we will be able to find any kind of spirit vessel,” he mumbled. Tian Han’s palm pressed into the back of his hair and gave light ruffles.

“Thinking about work when you just woke up?” Tian Han said.

The concern might have been well intentioned, but of course Fu Ran was stuck thinking about work. The understanding of wandering spirits in Bei Zangli were as such: Those citizens would eventually have those visiting spirits turn rouge. They were around for the festivities, for now, but what would happen when ribbons of red streamers were replaced with strings and sprays of blood?

When that happened, that small village would be ravaged. If they decided to move to Jinan, then The Faceless City, too… might fall.

“Tian Han, we haven’t done anything.” Fu Ran covered his face in his lamenting, and he whined. The pets against his hair were doing little to ease his tensions.

The words seemed to stir the mind of his disciples too, because Meng Xiao spoke up: “Shizun, respectfully, I disagree. We have done something, because we know what those things are now. In the city down below, those were wandering spirits, right? Doesn’t that mean that they will turn into evil spirits, soon? We can just wait for them to turn and kill them all.”

Fu Ran immediately pressed his hand to his forehead and sighed.

Slowly, he explained, “Yes, they are wandering spirits right now. When a ghost is peaceful and communicative like those in Bei Zangli, they should only awake during very short festivals. Too much, and they will start to lose what made them human in the first place.

“When the core memories and thoughts of a mortal body are lost, they almost instantaneously corrupt. This is because they have been awoken by negative means. Even festivities use things like: Ghost Lanterns, or talismans, or rituals, and should only be held in moderation.

“If they are exposed to demonic spells, or trinkets, too frequently, they will lose their purities gained through life and become beasts.” Fu Ran held the attention of his children greatly as he explained a simple concept of what happens in the presence of demonic qi. This caused the most frequent attacks on the mortal realm.

“Like how the demonic realm became warped? Wasn’t it once pure?” Meng Xiao asked, once again showing that he held great knowledge and often just refused to use it.

Fu Ran nodded. “The demon realm was corrupted by demonic cultivation, and just in that same vein of thought, wandering spirits will eventually be corrupted, too. When that happens, they become evil spirits, lacking emotion or empathy. They will attack anything that moves.”

“They grow quite powerful, too. And Meng Xiao.” When Fu Ran mentioned his name, Meng Xiao stiffened. He was already pouting, his cheeks puffed up in annoyance, like he knew the scolding that was to come.

“Do you know how many were in that city?” Fu Ran asked.

Meng Xiao seemed to regret his previous declaration of fighting. It would have been out of his depths. Frustration showed in his dark eyes, but he did not speak.

Fu Ran crossed his arms. “I am not completely putting down your plan. In some cases. Your suggestion would work fine. But do you know why it is a bad idea here?”

“There were hundreds of them in Bei Zangli. And only about five or six of them were real citizens.” Meng Xiao said simply.

“That is correct.”

“The number of enemies is a bit much, I realize. Forgive this disciple, Shizun.” His words burned in anger, and Meng Xiao looked like he really didn’t want to say that.

The mood was a bit lighter, with his serious lecture done for now, so Fu Ran covered a little grin with the bed sheet and chuckled, “This Shizun still appreciates your determination.”

Meng Xiao seemed embarrassed by his lofty thoughts, but Lin An and Su Biyu seemed afraid.

“Now” Fu Ran clapped his hands, “This Shizun would like to explain his theory properly if his disciples are willing to listen.”

Gathered around his bed were three children, waiting to hear their teacher’s impromptu “class.” As informal as the lesson was, perhaps it would get everyone on the same page.

“Do any of my sweet disciples know what a spirit vessel is?”

While he was met mostly with confused eyes, the boy who lay near him stirred. Wan Yu looked up to him with sleepy golden eyes. He sleepily muttered, “I know what that is, Shizun.”

“Then if Wan Yu understands the concept, please explain it.”