The Tyrant Emperor's Horror

Time passed until he was forced to make a decision: get up or eventually be caught by the guards. Either choice would have been unpleasant, but he didn't want to deal with people right now. The fact that the guards hadn't already found him was a miracle.

Tian Han walked through the back curtains. He remembered.

He pulled himself to his feet, but the pain in his body still flared. The damage to his qi meridians extended all the way down to his right foot, though most of the burning pain concentrated in his wrist. Even gripping the staircase railing sent jolts up his arm.

Beyond the back curtains, cages were scattered about with their doors flung wide open. Not a single child remained.

Did Tian Han do that?

Even if he didnt, they were gone now, and that was all that mattered. A few missing children under his name was hardly the worst crime that could have been committed. Fu Ran could bear that much burden.

The large backstage area eventually gave way to a narrow, dimly lit hallway. Unlike the main room, the corridor was dark, with only the faintest hints of light. With each step, his body fought back making it harder to walk.

A heavy metal door creaked open at the very end of the corridor. Fu Ran froze and held his breath.

"What is it this time…?" he rasped. It would have been impossible for someone to miss him, as the hallway held no branching paths.

The footsteps grew louder, closing the distance quickly. Someone was running. The sound of heavy boots against tile made it clear this was not a child or a petite individual. It was undoubtedly a larger man.

Fu Ran wished he could have readied a sword, or any weapon at all, but all he could do was test the spiritual energy in his left hand instead. Right now it was incredibly faint due to the trauma on the other half, but the reserve was still there. 

It would have to be enough.

A figure emerged through the shadows, and Fu Ran lunged. His left hand guided an attack, and with his fingers splayed against a broad chest, he had pinned the man against the wall.

A gasp was followed by an overwhelming scent of sweet burnt honey.

Oh, thank heavens. Fu Ran's shoulders dropped and his aggression subsided.

It was just Tian Han. 

A smile tugged at Fu Ran's lips and he exhaled. However, when he started to pull away a sudden grip caught his wrist. It hurt. And it stung; it nearly stole his breath away.

Chastising words sat at the tip of his tongue, with a wince. "What's wrong with—" Fu Ran wanted to snap, but the Tyrant Emperor's expression stopped him cold.

The skin beneath Tian Han's eyes was flushed pink, and he sucked in a thin breath. It was more like he was looking at an unbelievable sight. His lips trembled, the words barely audible.

"…zun… rry…"

"What…?" Fu Ran couldn't make out the words, but he swallowed hard. He was suddenly desperate to hear them. Every time Tian Han showed him a new side of himself, it felt like something was about to go terribly wrong.

Like choking on another sentence, Tian Han whispered, "I didn't mean for it to end like that."

In this moment, the Tyrant Emperor looked delicate, vulnerable in a way that didn't belong to him. And it made no sense—sadness, hesitation, regret? None of those things suited him. Fu Ran felt like he was being lied to every time he saw a glimpse of those emotions. 

And yet he couldn't stop himself from asking, "What's wrong?" 

However, his concern wasn't long lived. 

The Tyrant Emperor's hands released his wrist and instead snaked to his sides. It was an unprompted invasion. Immediately, Fu Ran startled and tried to recoil, but he was trapped firmly in place. "You insolent Ty—!" He howled, but his voice cracked into a squeak.

Tian Han's thumbs brushed Fu Ran's ribs in a slow, deliberate sweep, as if tracing a path they knew by heart. Fu Ran had forgotten how to speak in shock.

And then, his hands slipped lower, past Fu Ran's waist and closer to his hips. "Shizun… It's been so long."

What was going on? Instead of putting down and belittling Tian Han's actions like he wanted, Fu Ran was rigid. 

Then, without warning, those fingers kneaded into the skin just above Fu Ran's ass.

"Wha—What are you—!" Fu Ran yelped. "What do you think you're doing?!"

Without missing a beat, he struck Tian Han's cheek, leaving a sting against his palm. His mind cleared and his jaw tightened. This was a threat he didn't think he had to be aware of. The Tyrant Emperor was showing perfectly tyrant behavior.

But Tian Han didn't flinch.

"Shizun can hit me all he wants," Tian Han whimpered. "It's justly deserved."

His eyes shifted away, like he couldn't look at Fu Ran at all, and he apologized, "This stupid disciple should have never said you were…"

"—Said I was what?!" Fu Ran snapped. 

Despite the burning pain of injury, his fists clenched and he trembled. Yet a slap had done nothing to deter the Tyrant Emperor. Even he—even Tian Han rarely acted this depraved in his visions.

Tian Han flinched, and his brows furrowed. "Your anger is understandable, but please, let me speak…"

The cold tip of a nose buried in the crook of Fu Ran's neck, and he shuddered again. "Stop!" he yelled.

He was so, so dizzy—he'd just been injured, and now this emotional onslaught was tearing him apart. "Have you…" Fu Ran mewled, voice weak, "…utterly no shame?"

Hot breath puffed against his flushed skin in desperate, repeated murmurs of "Shizun."

A single palm left his waist, trailing up his spine. The touch was feather-light, tracing his form with a reverence that left his mind foggy. Fu Ran felt lightheaded, yet the weight of his body was easily supported by a single, steady arm.

Every single touch was like a flicker of sparks against his back. He was slipping.

"Is there anything I can do to make things right?" Tian Han asked. His words made no sense. How could Fu Ran answer when he didn't understand—it was like the Tyrant Emperor wasn't speaking to him at all.

Only when that palm reached the nape of Fu Ran's neck did panic cut through the haze. Heat vanished, replaced by the sharp chill of fear.

Fu Ran's eyes widened, before he gasped out the only thing he could manage:

"Tian Han."

At that moment, the name seemed to take on a new meaning.

"Tian Han…?" Tian Han questioned, like Fu Ran just said something strange.

The touch withdrew almost as if he'd been burned.

Fu Ran was free now, and he backed up, clearing the distance of the entire hallway. He pressed his back against the wall, and yet still, that wasn't far enough. His heart was louder than his thoughts, but it didn't matter because they were all jumbled together in a mess anyway.

What the hell was he thinking? Who does he think he is? What claim does he think he—

Fu Ran shuddered.

Calm down, he scolded himself.

A simple encounter shouldn't have devolved into a high-stress situation so quickly. If Fu Ran could snap his fingers and return home, he would forget about this mission. He simply wanted to curl into a ball and hide beneath his blankets. Better yet…

He wanted to be left alone, left to rot and collect dust.

Tian Han barely moved, like he could frighten Fu Ran away in an instant. However, his eyes watched every move and twitch. His personality hadn't suddenly changed, so most likely, he wouldn't talk about this anymore. It wouldn't even be shocking if he pretended it didn't happen.

Fu Ran glared to the point where he felt a headache coming on, the only benefit being that it numbed his senses to the burning in his veins.

The two stared at each other for too long.

Finally, Fu Ran had calmed himself to the point where he could talk. "Thank you for coming back to look for me."

It might have sounded like high praise, but he meant it with every bit of sarcasm he could muster. "But we should be going."

Tian Han didn't respond with words. Reluctantly, he agreed.