Chapter 66

The words were so heartless that Ji Chun's face paled abruptly. He couldn't accept this version of Su Ran—one who seemed to have given in so easily. Overcome with frustration, he leaned forward, pressing Su Ran down and forcing him to meet his gaze. Ignoring Su Ran's struggles, Ji Chun stared into his eyes and spoke with deliberate gravity, each word weighted with emotion:

"Su Ran, I can't share you with other women—because in my heart, there's only you. I'm not your plaything, not your subordinate, not your property. The only reason I obey you, the only reason I yield to you… is because I love you." His voice dropped lower, rougher. "I want you—all of you. And this has nothing to do with loyalty."

Trapped beneath the monk's unwavering stare, Su Ran felt his pulse stutter, his composure crumbling. Ji Chun was usually so composed—cold, solemn, silent—yet now, he pinned Su Ran down, forcing him to listen. Su Ran had always found the monk's voice pleasant, but now, the low, husky timbre of it seemed to seep into his very bones, impossible to ignore.

This monk… loves me?

The realization left Su Ran dazed. He couldn't even bring himself to meet Ji Chun's wounded gaze. A voice inside him whispered that this love—this intensity—was something he couldn't bear. His breathing grew uneven under the monk's weight, and after a long silence, he finally turned his face away, voice hoarse.

"I… I know. I was wrong."

The admission was soft, laced with guilt and discomfort. Su Ran—the proud, the untamed Su Ran—was yielding.

Seeing him like this, Ji Chun's anger melted into aching tenderness. This man, who should have been domineering and unyielding, had been reduced to this state because of him. The thought that Su Ran had grown softer, more vulnerable, stirred something bittersweet in Ji Chun's chest. Gently, he cupped Su Ran's cheek and murmured, "I'm sorry."

Su Ran stiffened at the apology. The monk's usual gentleness, paired with the raw confession from moments ago, left him flustered. He shot Ji Chun a sidelong glance—only to find nothing but remorse in his eyes. With a scoff, Su Ran shoved him away, muttering, "We're both men. Must you say such embarrassing things?"

Ji Chun stumbled back, face burning. Now that the heat of the moment had passed, his own words struck him as unbearably sentimental. He sat stiffly at the edge of the bed, silent.

A heavy quiet settled between them.

Just as Ji Chun debated breaking the silence, Su Ran—still turned away—grumbled, "Get me some hot water."

Ji Chun hurried to comply. When he returned, Su Ran was sitting up, waiting with an air of impatience. He accepted the cup with a noncommittal hum, took a sip, then glanced down at his swollen belly with a frown. "This thing's acting up again."

Ji Chun hesitated before reaching out, hand hovering uncertainly. Before he could withdraw, Su Ran grabbed his wrist and pressed his palm firmly against the curve of his stomach.

"If you want to touch it, just do it," Su Ran snapped, ears reddening. "It's not some priceless treasure."

Ji Chun's lips quirked despite himself. Slowly, he began to understand this man's contradictions—his pride, his reluctance to admit weakness. The tension in his shoulders eased as he let his hand linger, warmth seeping through the fabric.

"The child really favors you," he murmured.

Su Ran's mouth tilted in smug satisfaction. "Oh?"

Before he could retort, a knock echoed from the gate. His expression darkened. "See who it is."

Ji Chun, equally annoyed by the interruption, strode out. When he opened the door and saw Wang Zhen'er standing there, his gaze turned icy.

"What do you want?"

Her eyes darted past him, searching for Su Ran. "Ji Dage, I think I left my bracelet here earlier. May I come in and—"

"Wait here." He shut the door sharply, cutting her off. After a brief search, he found the jade bracelet on the table and thrust it at her without ceremony. "It's late. Go home."

Wang Zhen'er opened her mouth to protest, but Ji Chun was already turning away. The door clicked shut behind him.

Back inside, Su Ran's lazy voice drifted from the bed. "Who was it?"

"Wang Zhen'er," Ji Chun replied flatly, irritation creeping into his tone. The memory of her earlier visit—of Su Ran allowing her in—still rankled.

Su Ran arched a brow. "Oh? What did she want?"

When Ji Chun heard Su Ran mention Wang Zhen'er, a fresh wave of irritation and panic surged through him. He strode forward and sat heavily on the edge of the bed, fixing Su Ran with a steady, serious gaze.

"Your attitude towards her—"

"What about it?" Su Ran leaned back lazily, eyeing the monk's sullen expression with amusement. It was almost too easy to read him.

Ji Chun clenched his jaw. Su Ran wasn't even going to explain—instead, he was turning the question back on him. The earlier misunderstanding about the demonic cult wives and children had just been settled, but Wang Zhen'er's presence still hung between them. Was Su Ran actually…?

The thought coiled tighter in his chest, unbearable. Abandoning restraint, Ji Chun grabbed Su Ran's shoulders and demanded, "Are you interested in her?"

Su Ran's lips curled. Ah, so the monk is jealous. Deliberately, he blinked up at Ji Chun and teased, "Interested? Interested how? You'll have to be clearer."

Ji Chun's restraint snapped. He crashed their mouths together in a kiss that was half-furious, half-desperate. Su Ran smirked into it, sliding his arms around the monk's neck, fingers skimming the smooth curve of his shaved head.

"Mm…" He broke the kiss just enough to murmur, voice rough with promise, "I only like monks."

The words dripped with temptation, darkening Ji Chun's eyes. His hands roamed lower—until they brushed Su Ran's swollen belly. A sharp inhale. Then, with visible effort, he pulled back, rolling onto his side of the bed.

"Rest," he muttered, voice thick. "I'll cook later."

Su Ran stared at him, incredulous. He's stopping now? With a huff, he flipped onto his side, deliberately crowding Ji Chun. "I'm not tired." The implication hung heavy between them: I don't want to stop.

Ji Chun's ears burned. "The child—"

"Tch." Su Ran's gaze dropped pointedly to the monk's obvious arousal, then back up with a taunting smirk. Fine. Let's see how long your stubbornness lasts. When Ji Chun didn't budge, Su Ran finally turned away with a disgusted noise, spine rigid with annoyance.

The peace lasted for a few days—until one afternoon, when a cacophony of shouts and pounding fists shattered the quiet. The courtyard gate rattled violently, as if kicked by a mob.

Ji Chun bolted upright, instantly alert. Beside him, Su Ran was already sitting up, face thunderous.

"I'll handle it," Ji Chun said, tugging on his shoes.

Su Ran scoffed. The aggression in that knocking was unmistakable—whoever was outside wasn't leaving without trouble. He swung his legs over the bed. "Like hell you're going alone."

Ji Chun hurried to help him with his shoes, then steadied him as they strode toward the gate. "Don't act rashly," he warned under his breath.

Su Ran's glare could've frozen fire. "Hmph." His steps didn't slow.

Ji Chun yanked the door open. Seven or eight villagers stood clustered outside, led by their neighbor, Wang Ergu. At her side, Wang Zhen'er wept into a handkerchief, flanked by the Wang family men and a few self-righteous onlookers.

"Ji Chun!" Wang Ergu jabbed a finger at his chest. "Will you marry my daughter or not?"

"No." The word was ice.

"Mother, please stop—!" Wang Zhen'er wailed, her theatrics fueling the crowd's outrage. The villagers muttered, casting Ji Chun looks of disgust. To them, his refusal wasn't just an insult—it was a crime.