Chapter 65

The path ahead blurred as Ji Chun forced himself forward, the women's laughter nipping at his heels like autumn wind. By now, their words should have rolled off him—water on stone. Yet the mention of Su Ran, reduced to some shrewish phantom in their tales, left his ribs clenched tight.

"That's true," one woman agreed, needles flashing as she sewed. "Wang Ergu may like to gossip, but her daughter's well-mannered. She and Ji Chun would make a fine match."

"His wife, poor thing," another clucked. "Carrying his child while he chases after the neighbor's daughter."

A third woman leaned in conspiratorially. "Just three days past, I saw Wang Zhen'er at their gate. The Ji woman stormed inside when she saw them talking! Mark my words—that marriage won't last the season."

Ji Chun's hands clenched at the distorted tale. These rumors had Wang Ergu's fingerprints all over them. A cold fury settled in his chest as he quickened his steps home.

The gate creaked open to reveal an unsettling scene—Wang Zhen'er perched on a stool beside Su Ran's recliner, her voice honey-sweet. Ji Chun's blood ran cold.

"Why are you here?" The words came out sharper than intended.

Wang Zhen'er sprang up, flustered. "Ji Dage! I only thought Saozi might be lonely—"

"Leave." The command brooked no argument. When she hesitated, Su Ran flicked his fingers in dismissal. "Go on."

Only after she'd gone, casting longing glances at Su Ran, did Ji Chun's composure crack. "Why let her in?" he demanded, pacing like a caged beast.

Su Ran toyed with a lock of hair, watching Ji Chun's agitation with amusement. "She seemed bored."

The casual reply stung. Ji Chun forced himself to sit, gripping a book until his knuckles whitened. He hated this irrational jealousy—hated how small it made him feel.

A warm hand settled on his shaved crown. "Angry?" Su Ran teased.

Ji Chun's throat worked. "No." The lie tasted bitter.

"Shall I tell you what we discussed?" Fingers carded through the short hairs at his nape, the touch disarming.

"I..." Ji Chun's honesty warred with shame. "Yes. No. It's not my place to—"

Su Ran's laughter rang out. "Wang Zhen'er," he mused, enjoying Ji Chun's tension, "is quite the proper young lady..."

Ji Chun's head snapped up, betrayal flashing across his face before he could school his features. The sight made Su Ran's grin widen.

Ji Chun's grip tightened around Su Ran's wrist, his eyes dark with turmoil. When he saw the teasing glint in Su Ran's expression, some tension eased—but not enough. He pulled Su Ran into a crushing embrace, lips brushing the shell of his ear as he whispered, "You're mine."

To his surprise, Su Ran didn't resist the possessive claim. Instead, he nuzzled into Ji Chun's chest with an almost playful sigh. "Monk, there's something I forgot to tell you..."

Ji Chun's arms slackened slightly. He bent to press their foreheads together, breath coming faster now. "What is it?"

"I've always preferred women," Su Ran said casually, as if discussing the weather. "I already have three wives back at the sect. Just now, I promised Wang Zhen'er she could be the fourth." He looked up with feigned remorse. "But you'll still be my favorite—second only to me in status, of course."

Ji Chun recoiled as if struck. His searching gaze found no hint of deception in Su Ran's face—only that infuriating, pitying smile. "You... have wives?" The words scraped his throat raw. "Children?"

"Two sons," Su Ran confirmed cheerfully. "Though if they displease you, I can always dispose of them when we return."

The world tilted. Ji Chun stumbled back, hands falling limp at his sides. "Then we should..." The rest choked him, bitter as poison on his tongue.

Su Ran reached out, but Ji Chun twisted away, shoulders hunched like a wounded animal. When he spoke again, his voice was gravel and ashes: "Sect Leader Su should tend to his family. This humble monk has no place between husband and wives." Ji Chun lowered his gaze, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles blanched. At that moment, he resembled a caged lion—tormented, yet past redemption.

All amusement drained from Su Ran's face. "So this is your famed devotion?" He snatched a teacup and hurled it to the ground. Shards skittered across the floor, one slicing his hand—he didn't flinch. "A few imaginary women, and you're ready to forsake me?"

Ji Chun caught Su Ran's wrist without thinking. His eyes dropped to the man's swollen belly, worry and frustration warring within him. The thought of Su Ran bound to another—was a blade twisted in his ribs. For once, his composure cracked. "Leave," he ordered, voice steel-cold.

Su Ran met his glare, fury sparking hotter between them—until a sharp pain lanced through his abdomen. He sucked in a breath, brow twitching as he fought to mask the weakness already beading sweat on his skin.

No longer able to feign indifference, Su Ran hunched over, one hand pressed to his stomach. His lips had gone pale. "...Help me inside," he muttered. Ji Chun half-carried him to the bed, his broad palm settling over Su Ran's lower abdomen. Warmth pulsed from his touch as he channeled inner energy to soothe the turmoil within. Only when color returned to Su Ran's face did he withdraw. "What happened?" Ji Chun noticed instantly. Rage dissolved into dread as he seized Su Ran's arm, steadying him. "Are you in pain?"

Ji Chun was at his side in an instant, all anger forgotten. "The baby?" He guided Su Ran to bed, pressing a warm palm to the distended belly. Channeling qi through his touch, he murmured, "Breathe. Just breathe."

As color returned to Su Ran's cheeks, Ji Chun withdrew his hand—only for slender fingers to jab his chest. Su Ran tilted his chin up, prodding his own belly with slender fingers. His sideways glance was razor-edged. "This is the only thing you care about, isn't it?" Su Ran's voice was glacial. "I have no wives. No children. It was just a joke to test your so-called love."

Ji Chun's head snapped up. "A... joke?"

"Does it matter?" Su Ran turned away, spine rigid. "You've made your choice."

"Su Ran—"

"Leave."

But Ji Chun caught his wrist, desperation cracking his composure. "I thought—I couldn't bear to—"

"Enough." Su Ran sighed, the anger leaching from his voice. Despite himself, he couldn't stomach the monk's devastation. "I valued you. Trusted you. Today proved that faith misplaced." Then he paused. "Go, before I say something unforgivable."

Author's Notes:

This chapter, what started as a playful joke from Su Ran but spiraled into something bigger. Why? Is the monk too possessive? Is Su Ran too prideful?

My take: The monk's love is exclusive. He can't share Su Ran, nor can he accept being cast aside. His compromises stem from love—but this is where he draws the line. He wants only Su Ran and their future child, no one else.

In contrast, Su Ran does love him—but not as deeply. Power and status still matter more to him (note his lingering obsession with Di Mang). His anger comes from misunderstanding love as mere loyalty. The monk's threat to leave over a woman feels like betrayal, but it's actually born of devotion—he loves too much to accept less.

Su Ran shows love through protection and privilege, demanding absolute obedience in return. Yet as he grows more dependent on the monk, his feelings will deepen. It's a matter of time and experience.

Don't worry—I'll resolve this conflict sweetly in the next chapters! No sadness, only growth.

Love you all!