Chapter 85

The days grew shorter here, and darkness fell earlier than usual. By the time they woke from their nap, night had already settled in. After Ji Chun fetched water and helped Su Ran wash up, a servant arrived to invite them to a banquet that had been prepared in honor of all guests.

Ji Chun, Su Ran, Mu Miefeng, and Xue Yao were led by servants into a brightly lit courtyard, where the atmosphere buzzed with excitement. Over a dozen tables filled the space, many already occupied by members of various sects. The four were seated alongside the Tianyin Sect, where an elaborate spread awaited them—dozens of dishes, if not quite delicacies from land and sea, were more than enough to impress. The lavish display drew envious glances from those present.

Once the guests were settled, the sect leader offered a few polite words before the feast began. At the neighboring table, the Liang Yi Sect and their leader exchanged toasts and pleasantries. After several rounds of drinks, the mood grew boisterous, and many were pleasantly tipsy.

Noticing Su Ran's flushed cheeks, Ji Chun quietly moved his wine cup aside. As he did, his gaze landed on a man seated two places away—Tianyin Sect's eldest disciple, if memory served. The man held his cup to his lips, tilting his head slightly as if stealing glances at Su Ran. Ji Chun frowned, wondering if he'd imagined it.

But then the man stood, swaying slightly, and staggered toward Su Ran with his drink in hand. He clapped a hand on Su Ran's shoulder.

Su Ran, his mind muddled from the wine, turned with a scowl. When he saw the unfamiliar face looming over him, his irritation flared. "Get lost," he growled, voice low and dangerous.

The man—red-faced and reeking of alcohol—only grinned foolishly. Leaning closer, he reached for Su Ran again, his breath thick with liquor. Disgust twisted Su Ran's expression, and without hesitation, he struck the man square in the chest. The force sent him stumbling back until he collapsed at the sect leader's feet, blood trickling from his lips.

The commotion drew every eye in the courtyard. The Tianyin Sect's leader slammed his palm on the table and barked at his disciples, "Why are you just sitting there? Help your Shixiong up!"

A younger disciple hurried forward, pulling the man upright. "Shixiong! Are you all right?" he cried, panicking at the sight of blood. "Shizun—he's vomiting blood!"

The sect leader's aged eyes flashed with cold fury. Though the Tianyin Sect paled in comparison to the Liang Yi Sect, he refused to be humiliated before the entire martial world. How dare this insolent whelp—protected only by his ties to a Shaolin monk—provoke them so brazenly?

Su Ran clenched his fists, meeting the old man's glare without flinching. He kicked his stool aside, lips curling in disdain.

Ji Chun rose, positioning himself behind Su Ran, his gaze icy as it locked onto the approaching sect leader. The tension between them thickened.

"Ji Chun Dashi," the sect leader spat, "your friend has openly disrespected my Tianyin Sect. Does Shaolin condone such behavior?"

"Your disciple harassed my friend first," Ji Chun countered, voice steady. "Who, then, is truly at fault?"

The sect leader's face darkened. Trembling with rage, he raised his sword—only for the host sect leader to seize his arm.

"Let us settle this peacefully," the host interjected, his smile pleasant but his eyes sharp as daggers.

Before either side could respond, the drunken disciple shoved his junior aside and lurched toward Su Ran again. "C'mere, pretty little thing," he slurred, leaning in with a lecherous grin. "Let Gege take care of you—"

A collective murmur rippled through the crowd. Though the onlookers now understood the true nature of the altercation, none intervened, content to watch the spectacle unfold.

The Tianyin Sect leader's face flushed with humiliation. He whirled on his disciple and struck him across the face. "You disgraceful fool! Kneel!"

The man staggered, then dropped to his knees, babbling apologies. "Forgive me, Shizun! I was wrong!"

Ji Chun and Su Ran remained silent, their expressions frosty.

Unnoticed by most, Sect Leader Shang Luo observed the groveling disciple with a chilling smile. "Sect Leader Wang," he said smoothly, "how do you propose we resolve this?"

The old man swallowed hard. He could feel the weight of judgment from every corner of the courtyard. "Since this fool brought shame upon us in your esteemed presence," he gritted out, "I hereby expel him from the Tianyin Sect. His fate is yours to decide."

"Shizun... please... spare me..." The man, upon hearing his immediate expulsion from the sect, broke into desperate sobs. "I know I was wrong..."

The old sect leader ignored him entirely. With an apologetic smile to the gathered crowd, he flicked his sleeves and said, "My deepest apologies for disrupting your evening." He then gestured to his youngest disciple, and the Tianyin Sect members withdrew, falling silent.

At a slight nod from the host sect leader, four or five men in white emerged from the shadows, seized the kneeling man, and forced him face-down onto the ground, awaiting judgment.

The sect leader approached Ji Chun and Su Ran with deliberate steps. He bowed slightly, his gaze lingering on Su Ran with an unreadable smile. "Su Gongzi," he murmured, "how would you like this matter resolved?"

Su Ran glanced up, noting the man's deferential tone. Though his anger still simmered, he replied coolly, "The decision rests with you, Sect Leader."

Ji Chun bristled at the way the sect leader studied Su Ran but held his tongue. There was something calculating in that gaze—something he didn't trust.

"And Ji Chun Dashi?" the sect leader prompted, his voice smooth.

"I have no objections," Ji Chun said stiffly.

"Take him away and execute him." The sect leader's voice turned to ice.

"Yes!" The men in white responded in unison before dragging the man off.

As the banquet resumed, the seat beside Su Ran—previously occupied by a Tianyin Sect disciple—remained empty, clearly abandoned after the earlier confrontation. Su Ran paid it little mind until, as he sipped his tea, someone settled beside him.

It was Shang Luo, leader of the Sha Yin Sect.

"Su Gongzi," the man said amiably, "does the fare meet your expectations?"

"It's passable," Su Ran replied, wary. "Though hardly remarkable."

Shang Luo leaned in suddenly, his breath a whisper against Su Ran's ear. Then, just as quickly, he withdrew, his expression unruffled—as if he'd said nothing at all.

Su Ran's face darkened. How does a minor sect leader know my identity? His fingers tightened around his cup. This man was far more dangerous than he appeared.

"What do you mean by this?" Su Ran hissed, voice low and threatening.

Shang Luo took a leisurely sip of wine. "No need for hostility, Su Gongzi. My intentions are purely cooperative."

"Cooperation?"

The sect leader met his gaze, then traced two characters on the table with his finger:

Di Mang.

"If you're interested," he said, rising, "seek me at Shang." With that, he departed.

---

Later That Night.

"Let's go back," Su Ran muttered, tugging Ji Chun's sleeve.

Ji Chun had watched the exchange with unease, jealousy prickling at sect leader's proximity to Su Ran. Still, he followed without protest.

Back in their quarters, Su Ran washed his face and slumped onto the bed. "The Sha Yin Sect leader knows who I am."

Ji Chun, who had been laying out their clothes for the next day, froze. "How?"

"No idea. He mentioned Di Mang—wants to 'cooperate.'" Su Ran frowned, turning the puzzle over in his mind.

Di Mang... Ji Chun's chest tightened. He stared at Su Ran, words failing him.

"Don't worry," Su Ran said, catching his hesitation. "I'll handle it."

Ji Chun exhaled, then knelt to remove Su Ran's shoes. As he massaged the other's slender feet, he asked quietly, "What's the plan for tomorrow?"

"We're going to the back mountain," Su Ran yawned, stretching out on the bed. "Let's see what secrets Di Mang is hiding."

"I'll go with you." Ji Chun pressed a kiss to Su Ran's forehead before stepping outside to dump the washbasin.

Alone in the moonlit courtyard, he sat on a stone bench, the night's chill seeping into his bones. The air here carried a silent menace—a whisper of unseen things perishing in the dark.

A pang of fear struck him. What if I'm not enough? The vow to protect Su Ran suddenly felt fragile, slipping like sand through his fingers.