Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chu Wanning’s fingertips resembled red prunes by now, wet and wrinkled from soaking in the cold water so long. A group of washerwomen nearby chattered and laughed, trading gossip with each other while scrubbing and wringing their wet laundry. Chu Wanning remained silent and out of sight as he did his own work, hiding behind a large stone fixture of the palace. Every now and then he found himself listening in to their chatter, especially when the servants mentioned familiar names.

There were very few servants that came in and out of Chu Wanning’s residence, and he himself had been restricted to certain areas. It was during times like these that Chu Wanning heard any news outside of his cold palace.

Today he learned that Virtuous Consort had died. A maid claimed the emperor had gifted the owner of Xu Palace with a length of white cloth from which she hung herself, while another servant insisted the emperor had dirtied his own hands and cut the consort’s head from her shoulders. Either way, the fact remained that she was dead.

“I heard that Ye-fei kept a harem of kunze in her backyard,” one of the washerwomen said. “The emperor never visited her, so that’s how she kept it secret for so long. Rong-pin was the one who exposed it. He caught Ye-fei and one of her kunze together.”

Another shook her head. “Ye-fei was a qianyuan, so she had no restraint. Virtuous Consort indeed!” 

“Everyone knew she disliked the emperor. I don’t know how she kept her title as consort for as long as she did.”

Chu Wanning frowned. It was correct that there was no love lost between Ye Wangxi and the emperor, however the Ye Wangxi that he had known was not a lustful woman. She was well-tempered and serious, certainly not the type of consort to be hiding a number of kunze in her palace.

She had most likely fallen for someone’s schemes. If it was truly Rong Jiu who had ‘exposed’ her secret, then this only strengthened Chu Wanning’s belief that Ye Wangxi was not guilty. Chu Wanning had experienced Rong Jiu’s methods personally. The Imperial Concubine helped to sharpen the wedge that grew between Chu Wanning and the emperor, lodging it firmly in place. The zhongyong’s movements had always been suspicious, but Chu Wanning had never been given the opportunity to prove them.

Chu Wanning wondered if Rong Jiu would go after Jiang-fei or Nangong-fei next. After all, the Imperial Concubine seemed to be making his way through the consorts. Or perhaps he’d aim straight for the top this time, Chu Wanning thought. Was it possible he would go against Empress Song? He narrowed his eyes at the thought, grip on his wet garments loosening.

If he did, he would lose.

The emperor had a love-hate relationship with his empress, treating her harshly one second and lovingly the next. Yet whenever he found himself stuck between choosing the empress or another member of his harem, he would choose the empress every time. This hard truth had been beat into Chu Wanning, over and over again. He had no trust that the emperor would ever take his side. Those beliefs had been plucked out of him long ago, taken with his fingernails. Empress Song was the mother of this nation, the legal wife qualified to stand by Taixun-jun’s side, and anyone else in the harem remained a mere decoration.

Chu Wanning hit his laundry particularly hard on the next smack, a dark cloud coming over his features.

The washerwomen nearby continued to prattle on about other happenings in the palace, though most of them were boring or too childish to even entertain. The only other thing of note they happened to mention were talks of skirmishes along the northwest border with the Turkic Khaganate, perhaps a sign of larger battles in the future. His former disciple Xue Meng had been stationed in that area. If war ever broke about, it would be Xue Meng who led the empire's forces. Chu Wanning had do doubt he'd be successful. 

Having finished wringing out his pile of laundry, which was a mere mound compared to the washerwomen's many mountains. Chu Wanning gathered it into his basket to take with him and hang at his residence. He began to walk back, but one of the women spoke up while he was still in earshot.

“Red Lotus Pavilion is being renovated right now. I was told it’s for a new concubine - a special one.”

Chu Wanning froze.

“Oh? Who is it?”

“It’s so romantic! Apparently the emperor has found his childhood sweetheart, the one that he’s always been searching for. Years ago, they used to be a servant in the palace until one day…”

Red Lotus Pavilion? A childhood sweetheart? His eyes dulled. There was only one person who that could be.

How pleased the emperor must be.

The women were gossiping, idle chatter at that. So why were the words so sharp, barbed with points that stuck him one after the other? Chu Wanning’s heart felt so heavy and weak, a dulled, bleeding thing, and he gritted his teeth, feeling a sense of righteous indignation.

It could have been anywhere else! He just had to rub salt in the wound. Chu Wanning huffed as he continued on his way, stewing in resentment all the while. The Red Lotus Pavilion had been his palace while he was a favored consort. It housed so many memories between him and the emperor, and yet now it was to be torn down and built anew, all for the emperor’s precious Shi Mei. Surely the emperor had done that on purpose, agitating Chu Wanning one final time with such a decision. Because if he hadn’t...if hadn’t done it on purpose...that would mean he hadn’t thought of Chu Wanning at all.

Chu Wanning looked up and stared at the dilapidated sign above his own palace. There weren’t too many complaints about his new residence simply because he was still given food to eat and a roof over his head. It was rather cold in the winter months, and he had a lot more work to do, but as long as he stayed away from the other concubines, he found his life was rather pain-free. Which was important. He’d been careful not to strain himself these past few months, afraid any stress might affect the little one’s health.

Chu Wanning placed his basket of clothes down and started to hang them up to dry, pausing to place a gentle, tremoring hand upon his stomach. It was rather hard to see, a barely there baby bump. He was six months along, but Chu Wanning knew it was a miracle he’d made it past the first three months.

Those first few months had been awful, adjusting to his new diet - or a lack of one - and all of the work that had to be done. He wished Luo Xianxian had still been around so he could confide in her. She would’ve been the only one he would have told. She’d always gifted him good luck charms and herbal tonics after the emperor visited, hoping that Chu Wanning might conceive.

“It’s important you have a child, Chu-fei,” Luo Xianxian had said. “The emperor’s love might not be forever, but a child’s will be.”

Chu Wanning hadn’t taken her words very seriously back then, partly because of how infatuated he had been and partly because of his own belief that he was infertile. He’d repressed his heats for so long he hadn’t thought it could be possible, but Luo Xianxian had kept hoping all the same. His maidservant was afraid that he would one day end up withering away alone as so many flowers did before him.

Chu Wanning was alone now - just as she’d feared - although things wouldn’t stay that way for much longer. Just a few more months and the little one would be here. He rubbed his stomach gently, feeling a warm, fuzzy feeling well up inside of him.

He haphazardly hung up the rest of his laundry, feeling worn out. He wheezed a little as he made his way back to his room. Most of his energy was conserved and fed to the little one, a typical kunze reaction during pregnancy he believed. Because of this, he had lost weight rather than gained it. The one time that Chu Wanning had caught sight of himself in the mirror, he’d looked more frightening and ugly than usual, his features gaunt and his skin sagging with bloodshot eyes. If the emperor were to see him now...he probably wouldn’t even recognize him.

The emperor, the emperor, the emperor. Chu Wanning tried not to think of his name, refused to think of him as anything besides an abstract concept. He hated being reminded of those short-lived, happy days with him. He hated being reminded of his own failure. That man was nothing more than a memory, a fragment of the past tucked away in a chest and hidden from view. If Chu Wanning were to ever bring those treasures out to revisit and admire, he’d be cut by them so deeply he’d bleed out.

He shook his head, trying to rid himself of such depressing thoughts. Part of the reason he looked so awful was because he wasn’t getting enough nutrients in his meals. The kitchen workers were stingy enough the way it was, but he couldn’t insist on more rations without explaining why. He refused to let anyone know he was pregnant.

Luo Xianxian was dead now, the only person in this place he could have possibly trusted, so no one would know. Simple as that.

He was an unfavored consort which meant he had no one protecting him. If word got out he was pregnant - the first concubine to have conceived, at that - things would play out in two ways. First, they would force him to abort it. Perhaps an open, public thing where they beat the child out of him , or even just a small, discreet order to mix abortifacients in with meals. It would be far too easy to simply make it so his child didn’t exist.

Second, even if he did make it to full term, if he gave birth safely to a happy, healthy child...as soon as the child was discovered it would be taken from him. A wounded, possessive feeling welled up inside of him at the thought, whining in protest. Most likely they’d give his baby to the empress, the legal wife who had no children of her own.

Chu Wanning would be alone again. He would probably never see his child again. He wondered if Empress Song would torture a child because it was Chu Wanning’s flesh and blood. The woman had treated him so horribly that it was only fair to expect a child of his would suffer the same fate.

His child was doomed to suffer in this palace.

“I’ll keep you safe,” Chu Wanning murmured out loud, feeling awkward as soon as he did so, his cheeks turning red. A part of him wondered if he could even fulfill that promise to his child, or if he was doomed to fail once more in protecting a loved one.

He scolded himself for such a depressing thought. He tried to discourage himself from thinking such negative things, but in his situation it was hard not to. With a sigh, Chu Wanning walked back to his room, feeling rather worn out. If he still had his cultivation, he would surely have more energy.

He laid down on his pallet, feeling the straw itch and prod at his skin. His back muscles groaned in protest, and his eyelids felt heavier than usual. Chu Wanning knew he should get up, that he needed to find something to eat, but he was far too tired. The exhaustion finally won out, and he closed his eyes, lulled into a temporary peaceful sleep.

The pain started in the middle of the night. He awoke to a torment in his stomach. It came quickly and fiercely, a sudden twisting to Chu Wanning’s insides that refused to let go. He clutched at his small bump, wheezing as the agony continued to assault him. Throwing off the threadbare bed sheets, Chu Wanning found his nightgown stained a blinding red.

“Ah,” he let out a sort of strangled gasp. “Ah!”

He was bleeding, thighs caked with some other fluid as well, but it was far too early for this to be labour pains. It was a sign of a crueler affliction than that. As his insides continued to pinch and pull themselves, Chu Wanning leaned back, bracing himself on the bed.

Should I push? Am I miscarrying? Chu Wanning had no idea. Though he was a kunze, he was a far cry from a midwife. He couldn’t tell what his body was trying to tell him to do or what was happening.

A sharp stab seemed to split open his lower half. “Someone -” Chu Wanning cried helplessly, hunched over on his side. He bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, stopping himself before the rest of the words could leave his mouth.

Someone...someone come..

His loyal maid Luo Xianxian had already passed away, a victim of palace schemes. Anyone else instructed to serve by his side had left half a year ago, fleeing as soon as Chu Wanning had fallen out of favor with the emperor. He was sent servants now and then to watch over rather than serve him, but they all scurried away as soon as they could. Chu Wanning was currently waited on by one eunuch, though he only came weekly when he had to deliver supplies or rations to his residence. There was no one left by Chu Wanning’s side.

Even if Chu Wanning shouted and screamed, no one could hear him. Even if they did, no one would come. Such was the fate of an unloved kunze who’d been left to wither and rot.

Chu Wanning took a deep breath, his chest rattling, and slowly laid his head back down. He raised his shaky legs to plant the soles of his feet firmly on his bed, and he tried to bear the torment.

“Mo Ran,” he found himself calling anyways, voice helpless and scared. “Mo Ran!”

If he could just see him one more time...perhaps it wouldn’t hurt as much.

It was an excruciating thing. He felt as if his insides were being scraped out, as if an important part of himself had been torn away, and now he was left with an awful emptiness inside.

Chu Wanning’s breathing exercises turned into soft little pants. He bit his dry, cracked lips hard enough that he tasted blood, and a heaviness began to settle on his eyelids.

Ah, he thought, whimpering. So this is it.

His hands fisted into the bedsheets in both frustration and agony. It wasn’t fair. Not at all. Tears gathered in the corner of his eyes, spilling down without a care.

Chu Wanning wanted to have this child. He wished to make his own little world in this old residence, a place for just the two of them. He would hold the little one in his arms and softly trace their delicate features, looking for any likeness they shared with their sire. Chu Wanning was guilty of hoping the child looked like Mo Ran. They would have an easier life if they weren’t ugly like Chu Wanning. It would be good if they smiled a lot, too. The complete opposite of himself. It would be great if they smiled with that same dimpled smile…

Another stab of pain ripped Chu Wanning out of his daydreams and planted him back in reality, for those sorts of thoughts were impossible now.

Mo Ran, I’ve failed you yet again, Chu Wanning thought. I really am a useless kunze. I couldn’t even properly give birth.

He began to feel very cold, but dimly blamed it on the brazier dying out. He would have to ask Luo Xianxian to refill it when she came back from getting their allowance. It had taken her an awful long time. She hadn’t been back in so long...Oh. Ah.

He would be meeting her soon, it seemed.

If I could go back...if I had another chance..I would try my best not to disappoint you, Mo Ran.

If I could only see your face, as you were before it all went wrong...

All things considered, it wasn’t very dramatic.

Chu Wanning died alone, curled up on his bed with his arms wrapped tight around his stomach. One corpse, two lives.

A quiet, painful death.

It wasn’t until two days later that he was found by a eunuch, arriving on orders from Taxian-jun to summon Chu-fei at once.

But it was too late.

His Chu-fei was gone.

He’d been drowning for so long that he almost forgot what it felt like to breathe. After what seemed like an endless struggle with dark, surging waves, he finally broke the surface. One moment there was a tightness in his chest, an ever-present sense of panic crushing him, and yet the next moment, he felt a sweet ache of relief, cool air finally filling his lungs.

Chu Wanning’s eyes shot open and he sat up, gasping for air. His hands flew to his throat instinctively, to see if anything had wrapped around his throat. Upon finding nothing, he glanced down.

The blood on his thighs had been cleaned up, his sheets changed for new, and his stomach was flat.

He lost the child.

Of course.

His eyes stung, and he bit his lip hard, if only to stop the wail that threatened to spill from his throat. Chu Wanning laid back down, slowly turning over and wrapping his arms around his midsection.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I can’t do anything right.

Fat tears slid down his cheeks, and he sniffled, nose full of snot. He allowed himself to just lay there, alone in his misery for those few moments. He mourned his baby, mourned the loss of what Mo Ran had given him.

“This servant greets Concubine Chu,” a sweet, clear voice said. 

Chu Wanning froze. He barely dared to believe it. That voice sounded just like her, but she’d been dead for months now.

Luo Xianxian knelt by his bedside, head pressed against the floor.

“You…” Chu Wanning trailed off, at a loss for words.

Luo Xianxian raised her head slightly, still refusing to meet his eyes. “This servant’s name is Luo Xianxian. I will be serving Your Highness starting today.”

What? Why was she acting as if they were meeting for the first time?

“Am I dead?” Chu Wanning asked, voice hoarse. He stared at Luo Xianxian fervently, tracing over every inch of her features.

Luo Xianxian blinked, her face paling. She rose and quickly began to look over Chu Wanning’s body, as if worried she might find an injury.

“What’s wrong, Your Highness? Do you remember what happened?”

When her hands touched his forehead to check for a fever, Chu Wanning caught her delicate wrist and squeezed gently. He could touch her. She felt solid. Real. Luo Xianxian’s concern only seemed to deepen, a frown forming on her face at his actions.

Chu Wanning let go. “No...I don’t really remember anything. Tell me.”

Something stung at his eyes. He refused to let the tears fall in front of Luo Xianxian. She was alive, living and breathing before him once more.

“Your Highness nearly drowned after saving a minister’s daughter who fell into the Eastern Palace’s pond. Your legs were caught by something and you couldn’t get out. All the other consorts - they just stood there, watching and laughing! If it hadn’t been for Ye-fei’s servant running into the emperor when she went for help, Your Highness could have died!”

Something nudged at his memories, a recollection from a time long ago.

.

.

His lungs filled with water. He could feel himself choking on it, spitting and sputtering as he tried to swim upwards toward the surface, but something was holding him back, yanking and pulling him down.

The next moment he felt something warm and solid wrap around his waist, tugging and lifting him up. He finally broke the surface, gasping for air as he wrapped his arms around his savior instinctively, shivering. Whoever held him tightened their grip as they lifted him out of the water, a hold so strong it was almost painful. Almost.

Chu Wanning looked up at his savior, ready to thank them, but the words of gratitude died on his tongue as soon as he met those dark, piercing eyes.

“Shizun,” Taxian-jun greeted, droplets of water running down his face, headdress askew and robes soaked. “Are you so eager for death?”

Chu Wanning looked away, unable to meet the emperor’s probing stare. He felt the tips of his ears turning red and hoped that Taxian-jun would not notice. The emperor’s eyes raked over him, his stare like burning hot coals.

Chu Wanning felt the emperor lean in, felt his hot breath spill across his ear. “I wonder...were you afraid I would flip your nameplate tonight? Worried you’d be sullied by your former disciple? Perhaps you hoped to die as some holy Buddha, hmm?”

Something sharp stung Chu Wanning’s ear, and he yelped, feeling a warm liquid drip down his skin.

The emperor pulled back, licking his bloody lips. “I won’t let you, Chu Wanning.”

Chu Wanning felt his entire body start to heat up, a typical reaction to the presence of a qianyuan. He ignored it. “There was a little girl,” he said, indignant. “I had to save her.”

Taxian-jun simply stared at him. “Of course you did. My proud, noble shizun.”

His calloused thumb traced over Chu Wanning’s cheek delicately, and the emperor looked down, gaze seemingly fixed on the kunze’s chest.

Chu Wanning looked down and flushed an even darker shade of pink. Even though the decree this morning titled him a cairen, a consort of talents within the emperor’s harem, Chu Wanning had not dressed any differently than he usually did. His white robes were not meant for swimming, and right now they left very little to the imagination in regards to his figure.

He covered his chest with his arms, glaring up at the emperor. “Stop staring,” he gritted out.

Taxian-jun grinned wolfishly and pinched one of his cheeks. “Why should I? You are mine now. I’m free to look as I like.”

“And everyone else?” Chu Wanning glanced at the surrounding court ladies and servants.

The emperor cradled Chu Wanning close to his chest, glancing up at the crowd of onlookers. “Leave us,” he said.

They scurried off quickly at his command, leaving Taxian-jun and Chu Wanning alone. The two remained there for what felt like hours, but what was more like mere minutes. They merely sat there in silence, intertwined in an embrace.

The emperor broke the silence first, pulling away from Chu Wanning. “You need to change your clothes,” he murmured. “Before you catch a cold.”

Chu Wanning felt himself nod, and he opened his mouth to say something but his words were soon blocked by Taxian-jun’s lips pressing firmly against his own. It was nothing like his first kiss years ago, clumsy and chaste, a symbol of an innocent first love. No, this one was messy and wet, an all-consuming fire that threatened to devour him whole. Taxian-jun took and took and took, leaving Chu Wanning a flustered, breathless mess.

At dinner, Taxian-jun did just as he’d threatened, flipping Chu Wanning’s nameplate and taking him for the first time that night. Taxian-jun, having believed he was a zhongyang, had been quite surprised upon discovering his kunze features. The experience was a painful, bloody thing. Chu Wanning remembered feeling a myriad of emotions, grief and self-hatred being the strongest of them all, and yet despite that there had been a guilty, ugly part of him delighted to be fucked by his former disciple.

Of course, they fought over what had happened the next morning, over the incident at the pond. Taxian-jun had words to say about Chu Wanning jumping into the water, quite displeased at the risks his concubine was willing to take in order to save someone he deemed insignificant. Chu Wanning had been angered by the emperor’s disregard for life, and he had furiously stated that as long as he was able to save someone else, he would put himself in harm’s way, again and again.

It had been the wrong thing to say. The emperor gifted Chu Wanning two shiny bracelets, manacles that sucked the cultivation from his veins, and Chu Wanning lost his golden core.

“This is your punishment, Chu Wanning,” Taxian-jun had growled once confronted. He made quick work to strip Chu Wanning and held him down over his desk as he fucked him. “Remember that you are in no position to help anyone. You can’t even help yourself.”

It was then that things started to go so wrong, that Chu Wanning realized the extent of what had happened to his former disciple, and yet without his cultivation, he had no way of fixing it.

.

.

Chu Wanning pulled himself from his memories. That incident had happened on the first day Taxian-jun declared he was to become a cairen.

Three years ago.

“The emperor,” he said, voice faint. “He saved me?”

Luo Xianxian nodded her head eagerly. “Yes! He was quite worried about you. You were barely breathing, and you’ve been unconscious for a whole day now.”

Chu Wanning glanced down and saw no bracelets around his wrists. His fingers pressed against the veins of his wrist, checking for the pleasant hum of his golden core, and he let out a sigh of relief upon feeling that thrum answer him. He still had his cultivation.

Was it truly possible then?

That he was born again three years ago, before he lost his cultivation, before he’d gained the attention of the emperor only to lose it.

He covered his face with his hands, overcome with emotion. The last three years were nothing but a dream now. He had a chance to do things differently, for his future and Mo Ran’s future to turn out differently.

Mo Ran, he thought. Is it possible that I can save you?

It didn’t matter if it was truly possible or not. Chu Wanning would never give up on Mo Ran.

And now that he still had his cultivation...he could try to remove that deep-seeded resentment from Mo Ran’s heart.

If it was possible, if he could truly accomplish such a thing - Chu Wanning was willing to trade all the cultivation he had for such a miracle. He would no longer need it after that, since he had already lost the title of Yuheng Elder as soon as the emperor declared him a cairen. Even once he accomplished his goal and removed the poison, he could not leave the palace. If he tried, he had no doubt that Taxian-jun would hunt him down and cut off his legs to prevent any more attempts. It had been one of the emperor’s many threats in his last life.

So Chu Wanning resigned himself to the fate of a concubine, however he vowed to live this life differently from the last. In the darkest part of his heart, he himself knew that he had never truly pushed the emperor away when he came to Red Lotus Pavillion. He flushed at the memory of how shameless he’d been, putting up very little protest in the face of the emperor’s affections before ultimately succumbing.

This time, Chu Wanning refused to be swayed. He would avoid the emperor at whatever costs necessary and live out the rest of his days quietly, peacefully. Just another faceless flower of the harem.

It was the only sure way to fight his fate.

Chu Wanning lifted his face from his hands, meeting Luo Xianxian’s worried gaze with a determined look.

“Do not tell anyone I have woken up,” he urged quietly. “Not yet. Some of the eunuchs and maids have probably already heard us talking, so just act as though I fell unconscious again. I’m not feeling well at all.”

“Your Highness.” Luo Xianxian fidgeted, eyes darting away from him.  

Chu Wanning grabbed her hands, looking at her rather beseechingly. “Please. This is the one favor I shall ask of you. I need to do my best to avoid the emperor.”

Luo Xianxian perked up. “Are you trying to get his attention?”

Chu Wanning paused, confused at her train of thought. “The opposite,” he said. “I don’t want to become favored. I just want to live a long, peaceful life. I don’t wish to see the emperor anytime soon.”

The reasoning was solid, so why did it make his chest ache?

Luo Xianxian was a smart girl. She’d worked in the palace for a few years now, and so she knew the harsh reality of such a life. She didn’t take much more convincing before she agreed to his request.

“When will you be well again ?” Luo Xianxian asked, bowing her head.

“I’ll let you know. But also, let me know where the emperor is spending the night tonight. I want to make sure he’s spending time with the other concubines instead,” Chu Wanning lied.

He really didn’t want to know that information, but he had to know where the emperor would be tonight. In the past when other concubines had flaunted their gifts or love bites in his face, he’d become so unbearably angry. He hated that he wasn’t pretty enough, that he wasn’t interesting enough to hold Mo Ran’s attention for very long at all.

Yet he still welcomed the emperor back into his own bed every time, a futile attempt to keep him by his side.

He knew his thoughts were not virtuous, but he could not help it. He was a jealous, selfish creature by nature, not anything like what a proper kunze should be. A respectable kunze would have encouraged any attempt to grow the family lineage, even if that meant their qianyuan had mated another kunze.

Chu Wanning would have to purge himself of those lingering, possessive feelings.

If there was anything that he had learned in his last life, it was that the emperor was not - and would never be - his.

Luo Xianxian did just as he asked, reporting that the emperor had not flipped a nameplate at dinner. Taxian-jun planned on retiring to his own chambers after he finished with the day’s paperwork, too busy to deal with the distractions of his harem.

It was such a perfect opportunity, one that might not come for another month or two. Chu Wanning knew he could not pass it up.

Later that night, while the rest of the palace was sleeping, Chu Wanning crept out under the cover of darkness. He wore the plain grey robes of a typical palace guard that Luo Xianxian had found for him. The guards on duty weren’t the most vigilant, and Chu Wanning clicked his tongue in disapproval once he knocked yet another soldier out with a quick hit to a nerve in their neck. Though it worked in his favor that none of the guards had any form of cultivation, he worried that anyone with sinister intentions could sneak by and harm the emperor.

He set his concerns aside and slowly snuck into the emperor’s chambers. Chu Wanning’s footsteps were silent. No sound escaped him as he entered and made his way closer to the emperor, who slept on his bed surrounded by dark, silky curtains.

Mo Ran’s features were indistinguishable from behind the curtains, his form nothing more than a shadow. It was only once Chu Wanning gently parted the curtain that he could see the familiar slope of his nose, his slender brows and strong jaw. He always looked so peaceful when he was asleep. It was as if the hate and the anger had been drained from Mo Ran, and he was once more that smiling youth.

Chu Wanning ached at the sight, longing to reach out with his hand and trace those features, to feel Mo Ran’s warm skin against his own -

He stilled, grabbing his own hand before it could touch and pulling it back, as if burned. Chu Wanning took a deep, silent breath. His ears were surely red by now, and he felt ashamed of himself, of his despicable yearning for this man.

That man was once a boy. A tender-hearted boy who had reached his hand out to Chu Wanning, trusting the cultivator to guide and teach him, to protect him.

He would finally fulfill that duty now.

Chu Wanning steadied himself, eyes narrowed in concentration as he brought his fingers together to gather energy. He hesitantly probed around in the area of the emperor’s chest, looking for the source of Mo Ran’s torment. It took him a few tries, but he finally found where the Long Hatred Flower had taken root.
If he had been looking at Mo Ran’s face, he would have surely seen the twitching of the emperor’s lips, the flutter of his eyelids.

In a split second, Chu Wanning dug his fingertips into the emperor’s chest, right over his heart, and pulled.

Hot, hot, hot!

It burned so badly, so fiercely that Chu Wanning felt as if he were being flayed alive. He heard screaming, awful guttural sounds all around him, bursting his eardrums. The flower attacked, trying to get him to let go, to leave it behind. A black, bubbling darkness spread from his hands, creeping up his arm and heading straight to his heart.

Chu Wanning wouldn’t let it. With a hiss, his grip on the flower only squeezed harder, then he pulled it out - root and stem. He held it in his hand for a moment, staggering backwards away from the bed. Chu Wanning glanced at the ugly thing in his hand, a dying, wheezing flower, oozing with black puss. Such a small thing had been responsible for corrupting his disciple’s soul.

Chu Wanning crushed it without a second thought, then purified its remains with fire. The ashes fizzled and faded into nothing, dispersed as if the Long Hatred Flower had never even existed.

But the proof of it would continue to remain. 

Chu Wanning hurried to examine Mo Ran, to see what damage the removal caused.

The emperor clutched at his chest, eyes bleary as he stared at Chu Wanning, an ugly scowl forming on his face.

“You!” he started, trying to sit up, then choked on the blood he spat out.

The removal had been a bloody thing, and it left a gaping hole in Mo Ran’s chest, one that was taking too long for Chu Wanning’s liking to close. Mo Ran could normally heal himself rather easily when it came to minor injuries, but this wound had been festering for years, and the poison had not been removed completely. So much of Mo Ran had been eroded, chipped away and destroyed - it was most likely that some parts of him would never return.

Chu Wanning helped the emperor to lie back down. He hushed him and very gently covered Mo Ran’s eyes with his hand. “Mo Ran, it was I...who wronged you. So please, just treat this as nothing more than a dream.”

He removed his hand, only to press a bloodstained fingertip to the Mo Ran’s brow.

An attempt to seal his memories.

Mo Ran grabbed his wrist, crushing it in his grip. “Chu Wanning!” he snarled viciously. “Don’t you dare - “

His words died off, and he fought against it once more, before he ultimately succumbed, eyes rolling to the back of his head. Mo Ran’s hand fell to the side, limp.

It took a moment for Chu Wanning to gather himself. He felt so drained, so hollowed out and weak. It was the same sort of feeling he felt in his last life, dying alone in bed. He staggered out into the hallway.

“Come! Someone come! Mo Ran,” he bit his tongue, “ - the emperor has…!”

It was enough. Just as the doors to the emperor’s palace were thrown open, Chu Wanning faded back into the shadows, stumbling his way back to his own residence.

He had faint memories of his journey there. Most of it was a blur. The most important thing was that he successfully made it back without encountering anyone.

As Chu Wanning collapsed in bed, feeling chills spread throughout his body, he came to the realization that Luo Xianxian would no longer need to lie about him not being well for the next few days.

Now it was the truth.

The emperor was bedridden for three days, fighting a horrible fever. Luo Xianxian later told Chu Wanning that he and the emperor had spent the same amount of time unconscious, with both of them awakening on the fourth and final day of illness. That was how long it took for Chu Wanning to come back to his senses, frail and dizzy from the backlash of the flower.

When he heard the news that the emperor was well now, Chu Wanning worried that he might come to his residence and pester him. His greatest fear was that Mo Ran would know of what Chu Wanning had done and blame him for taking so long to rid the sickness in his chest.

But he had nothing to fear.

The memory seal worked.

Mo Ran did not come to him. For the first few days after the emperor recovered, there were no movements within the harem. Certainly not any in the direction of Chu Wanning’s tiny courtyard. When Mo Ran did begin to visit concubines again, he sought out Imperial Concubine Rong and Empress Song.

It was as if the emperor had forgotten that he granted his old shizun a title, as if he had forgotten that Chu Wanning even existed.

It was for the best. Chu Wanning reasoned that this was exactly what he intended for his new life. So why did it hurt so much?

Even in the past, Mo Ran had not needed a memory seal to forget him. Chu Wanning was an ugly creature, an unappealing, sharp rock compared to the lovely flowers of the harem. He lacked both beauty and scent, still suppressing his kunze nature with his cultivation. His first night with Mo Ran had never happened in this timeline, and so the emperor hadn’t discovered his new concubine to be a kunze instead of a zhongyong.

It was in Chu Wanning’s best interests that the emperor remained unaware. He would only end up hurt again, tossed away by the qianyuan once he was done with him.

He knew that what little attraction the emperor had for him was reliant on his kunze nature and the sweet scent that clung to his skin. Chu Wanning had been a temporary distraction, a plaything with which to vent more violent desires. In his last life, Taxian-jun’s affections had returned to the other concubines once he grew tired of his old, ugly shizun. He came to Red Lotus Pavillion less and less, until he visited for the very last time - the day they had fought.

They fought over the bowl of wontons that Chu Wanning had prepared for the emperor. Looking back, it had been nothing more than an afterthought, an opportunity for Chu Wanning to prepare food for his qianyuan like a good kunze should. So why did the sight of a mere dish send Taxian-Jun into such a rage, so much that he threw the bowl of wontons at Chu Wanning’s feet?

Chu Wanning used to think he could read the emperor’s moods. He understood that when the emperor acted out so violently like this, it was not because he was a violent person, but because his soul had been corroded by the flower rooted in his heart.

Yet this time...Chu Wanning’s hands had shook as he struggled to pick up the shattered glass from the floor, unaware of the pain that pricked his fingers as each piece sliced his skin. It was not Mo Ran’s fault. He could not be blamed. He was only -

“Shizun, I really, really hate you,” Taxian-jun said, voice strained.

A hand reached out, fingers carding through silky, black hair.

The emperor yanked him up from the ground by his hair, ignoring the hiss of pain that escaped Chu Wanning, blind to the tears that slid down his cheeks.

“You should have known your place,” Taxian-jun hissed, leaning down. “You are nothing. You are no one. All of you - every single one - you imitate him in every little thing you do, hoping you might coax me in with memories! I’m not a fool. I see through every trick, every whorish gesture.”

He tossed Chu Wanning aside, who barely managed to catch himself before he hit the floor. Chu Wanning felt as if his head were splitting in two. A ringing had started that wouldn’t stop, and his chest felt so tight he could barely breathe.

Chu Wanning now knew why the bowl of wontons had angered the emperor. He pressed his forehead against the floor, feeling himself shake silently. How could he have forgotten?

He clenched his hands into fists as Taxian-jun called for a eunuch to come inside Red Lotus Pavillion and write his royal edict. The shards of glass in his palms only dug in deeper as each word stabbed him.

“Worthy Consort Chu has aspired above his station and displeased the emperor,” Taxian-jun declared, something akin to mirth in his voice. “He is to be demoted to cainu and confined to a cold palace in order to reflect on his actions.”

Slowly, Chu Wanning raised his head, eyes moving up until he met the emperor’s dark, angry gaze. Chu Wanning glared back viciously.

It wasn’t fair. Not fair at all. The emperor hadn’t even given him a chance to explain before throwing him away.

How easy it was for him.

It was the last time he had seen Mo Ran. Would it be the last time for both lifetimes?

Chu Wanning’s eyes stung at the memory, and he rubbed at his chest to assuage the burning pain. He seemed sure it would fade away soon enough, just like his feelings. The more time passed, the easier it would be to forget.

He had the comfort of a concubine, but none of the pain. What more could he ask for?

A few days passed and Chu Wanning found himself rather bored. Luo Xianxian attempted to teach him embroidery to pass the time, but all of his efforts ended horribly.

“Oh, Your Highness! What an adorable cat!” Luo Xianxian praised his work.

“It’s a flower,” Chu Wanning said.

“Forgive me, Chu-cairen!” Luo Xianxian knelt down, forehead knocking against the floor. “This servant deserves death!”

Chu Wanning quickly helped her up, alarmed at how earnestly she apologized. “I’ve told you before, Luo Xianxian,” he said, brows furrowed. “There is no need for such apologies when you have done nothing truly deserving of death.”

“Of course, Your Highness!” Luo Xianxian nodded her head quickly. “This servant will keep your words in mind.”

Chu Wanning didn’t have much faith that she would stop with the constant apologies. In his last life, it took a full year before Luo Xianxian warmed up to him.

“There’s no hope for me in this regard, I fear,” he murmured, frowning at the half-smiling cat seen in his embroidery. He tossed the handkerchief aside. If the needle and thread were replaced with steel and screws, then Chu Wanning would have had more luck. He preferred sturdy machinery to flimsy fabric.

“Your Highness can try something else!” Luo Xianxian said, smiling and nodding her head. “We can spend next month’s salary on a guqin. If you can master that, then by that time - perhaps you can play for the emperor?”

She uttered this last part rather softly.

Chu Wanning was reminded of the hours he once spent hunched over, his face soaked in tears as his fingers bled, cut to shreds by the strings of the instrument before him.

“Look at the strings,” Taxian-jun cooed in his ear, grinding up against Chu Wanning from behind. “You’ve made such a mess of them, Chu-fei. Don’t tell me you think such a performance warrants my praise? Do it again and again - until you get it right.”

No, he thought. Not again.

“I think my playing would displease the emperor more than anything,” Chu Wanning shot her idea down with a wry smile. “Besides, I don’t want to play for him. I don’t want him to notice me. I just want to live a long, peaceful life behind these walls. If the emperor favors me even once, I will die painfully in a few years.”

He stated it like a fact because it was.

Luo Xianxian’s face paled at his words. “This servant understands,” she bowed her head once more. “ I will not speak of it again. I only thought that maybe you had changed your mind?”

Chu Wanning waved a hand. “It’s fine,” he assured her, giving a half-hearted smile. “I understand you were only thinking of me.”

A silence followed.

Luo Xianxian started to gather up the embroidery items and pack them away in the basket.

Chu Wanning leaned back in his chair. “Have you passed by the gardens as of late?” he asked. 

He had not left his residence since the night he removed the flower, afraid he might run into the emperor. He found himself missing the fresh air, though, and he remembered that the emperor very rarely visited the gardens. 

Luo Xianxian shook her head. “This servant has heard others say they look quite beautiful at this time, with all sorts of flowers in bloom. Perhaps Your Highness would like to go for a stroll this afternoon and see them?”

Chu Wanning hummed, which was as good as giving his assent.

He would later come to regret this decision. He should have visited anywhere else that day. For it was in the gardens where his path crossed with Mo Ran's once more, and his fate was sealed. 

Chapter Text

The gardens appeared as pretty as Luo Xianxian had described them. Chu Wanning walked at a leisurely pace, stopping to admire one flower after another. In his past life, he rarely had the opportunity to visit the gardens. Chu Wanning went wherever the emperor commanded, shackled by his every whim. Never had the emperor brought any concubine here, and seldom did he visit.

Despite that, the gardens remained special to Chu Wanning.

“Oh, no! My view has been ruined.”

The voice felt like claws raking across Chu Wanning’s ears, an unpleasant scraping against his eardrums.

He turned and knelt quickly to give his greeting, Luo Xianxian following suit.

“Lady of Talents Chu greets Imperial Concubine Rong,” he said, lowering his eyes as he spoke to the ground.

“You may rise!”

Chu Wanning lifted his head and the familiar, smirking face of Rong Jiu greeted him. Gaudy jewelry adorned the concubine from head to toe, and he wore vibrant, colorful robes. Chu Wanning appeared no higher in status than a servant when standing next to Rong Jiu’s extravagance. This contrast obviously pleased the Imperial Concubine, whose eyes lit up with glee in response.

How annoying. Chu Wanning wanted to forget his worries by gazing at the flowers. Instead, it seemed one worry had sought him out.

Rong Jiu smiled, almost preening, but his gaze raked over Chu Wanning, attempting to find whatever fault he could. He snapped a fan open in front of his face, yet it did nothing to hide the tittering laughter that escaped him. “Hmm. The emperor does have a particular taste, does he not? I suppose that’s why you were chosen, only - cairen? I can’t say the title fits you very well.”

Chu Wanning frowned, narrowing his eyes. “What does Imperial Concubine mean?”

Rong Jiu lowered his fan slightly in an attempt to fake concern. “Only that, well...the emperor has yet to visit you, no? I’m not quite sure how you can be Lady of Talents when you have none to speak of.”

Chu Wanning felt Luo Xianxian bristle by his side, no doubt ready to spring up and give Rong Jiu a tongue lashing, but he pressed down on her shoulder, warning her against it. Chu Wanning could not protect her. Why should she try to protect him?

“That makes sense,” Chu Wanning said, tired of the conversation already.

Rong Jiu’s eyebrow twitched. “I had yet to know of your existence until today,” he unfortunately continued. “Tell me, what palace do you reside in?”

What does it matter, Chu Wanning wanted to snap back, but he bit his tongue. In the past, he would have lashed out, and Rong Jiu would no doubt have gone running to the emperor about how he had been ruthlessly bullied by Chu Wanning. Now he knew better than to give in to Rong Jiu's provocations. He should just play along, even at the cost of his pride.

Chu Wanning's brow furrowed as he suddenly realized he was unable to answer Rong Jiu's question. He truly did not know the name of his residence. Perhaps Luo Xianxian had mentioned it the first day, but Chu Wanning had already forgotten. In his last life, he had stayed there less than a week. It took only a few nights before the emperor had bestowed him with Red Lotus Pavilion.

Chu Wanning looked to his maid.

“My master has been given Xue Palace,” Luo Xianxian said, bowing.

Chu Wanning nodded his head. “Right. Xue Palace.”

Rong Jiu stilled, features contorting into something twisted. The expression only lasted for a split second, his face relaxing once more as his lips curled into a grin. “Oh, I see. It must be because the emperor needs political support. That makes sense. Let me guess, you’re related to General Xue?”

Chu Wanning frowned, at a loss as to how Rong Jiu came to such a conclusion. Chu Wanning had been close friends with the late General Xue, taking on his son Xue Meng as a disciple, but he did not share any blood with the man.

He was about to inform Rong Jiu that he was completely wrong, however, he felt a tugging on his sleeve. In the next moment, Luo Xianxian collapsed to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.

“Your Majesty,” a chorus of servants nearby called out in greeting, falling suit as they bowed.

It was the emperor, making his way to the gardens and flanked by several of his aides.

Chu Wanning and Rong Jiu paid similar respects, but Chu Wanning lifted his head ever so slightly to gaze at the emperor’s face, unable to stop himself from looking at him.

Taxian-jun usually schooled his face into a cool mask of indifference. However this time there was a slight widening of his eyes, brows raised. He stopped in his approach, staring at the two concubines before him, and said something too quiet and too far away for Chu Wanning to hear.

An old eunuch scurried close to the emperor’s side, bowing and whispering something to him.

Whatever he told the emperor, it made Taxian-jun grin.

He resumed his approach and with a wave of his hand commanded his concubines to rise.

“Your Majesty,” Rong Jiu breathed, stepping closer to the emperor with a slow, deliberate swaying of his body. “Rong Jiu wanted to admire the flowers. What a coincidence that the emperor had the same idea. Shall we walk together?”

Chu Wanning had to fight the urge to roll his eyes. He expected the emperor to agree to the suggestion, the both of them ignoring him completely as they left, but Taxian-jun always managed to go against his expectations.

“Shizun,” the emperor said, sounding a little breathless.

He walked past Rong Jiu without a second thought, moving so close to Chu Wanning that he had to lean back in surprise, only for Taxian-jun to follow. The emperor wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him close. He looked Chu Wanning up and down, drinking in the sight of him as if to quench an unbearable thirst.

“What a surprise to see you here,” he remarked. “Chu Wanning...where have you been?”

Chu Wanning froze and awkwardly said, "Here."

Taxian-jun’s arm around him felt far too hot. Chu Wanning struggled a little, trying to pull away. “Let go of me, Mo Ran,” he insisted.

“Why should I?” the emperor narrowed his eyes, his hold tightening. “You’re mine now, or so I’m told. I’m free to touch and look as I like.”

The conversation from the last life happened again, with subtle differences this time.

Proof that Chu Wanning’s path remained the same.

Chu Wanning's hands landed on the emperor's chest, pushing at him in an attempt to distance himself. Taxian-jun refused to budge, smiling a little at the other's efforts before his eyes fell on the hands pressed against him.

Chu Wanning's sleeve had slid down, revealing a mottled, slender wrist. It was the bruise that the emperor gifted him several nights ago when he removed the flower. Chu Wanning moved without thinking, panic washing over him. He let go of the emperor to pull his sleeve down in a futile attempt to hide the mark.

Taxian-jun had already seen it.

The emperor carefully took Chu Wanning’s hand in his own, pushing back the sleeve to look at the bruise. His thumb traced over it. For a few moments, he simply stood there, staring. When the emperor looked up, something in his eyes had changed.

Taxian-jun’s hold turned violent. His fingers wrapped around the discolored wrist, squeezing quite painfully. Chu Wanning felt tears well up in his eyes, though they weren’t from the physical pain.

“Please stop, Mo Ran,” Chu Wanning said. “You’re hurting me.”

To his surprise, Taxian-jun stopped.

The emperor gave a sort of laugh. “I’m hurting you? What about me, Shizun? You’re always hurting me.”

The words hit their mark. Chu Wanning could not refute them. He looked away, suddenly too ashamed to meet his former disciple’s eyes.

Something soft brushed against the bruise - a gentle kiss, an attempt to apologize.

Chu Wanning involuntarily shuddered. Taxian-jun was violent one moment, then almost caring the next. As Chu Wanning had expected, the effects of the flower remained. The emperor’s soul was safe from further decay, but nothing could undo the damage that had already been done.

“What a cruel trick,” Taxian-jun whispered into his skin. His hooded eyes glanced up. “And a foolish one, too. Did you think it would last forever? That I might always forget you were my concubine?”

Was that the only memory that the emperor thought Chu Wanning had sealed? He tried not to look relieved, even as his guilt ate at him. It was good if Mo Ran did not remember the flower, if he did not discover how else his shizun had failed him.

“I thought it would be better if you forgot.”

For both of us.

"Oh, Shizun," Taxian-jun laughed. "I could never forget you."

That was a lie.

“Come,” he reluctantly parted from Chu Wanning, yet beckoned him forth. “Join me for a walk.”

Chu Wanning had no choice but to obey, though he felt Rong Jiu’s eyes boring into his back as he left. The emperor had been the one to slight the Imperial Concubine, but it was Chu Wanning who would pay for it. Such actions always had consequences.

Taxian-jun led him past the flowers, not stopping once to look at them. He seemed to have a single destination in mind. They continued on until the emperor suddenly halted and looked up.

Before the two of them was a large tree - a sight that made Chu Wanning's heart ache. It was under this tree that Chu Wanning had finally accepted Mo Ran as his disciple. Chu Wanning would not bring up such a memory, though a part of him hoped that the emperor would be the one to speak of their past.

“I’ve always thought this tree was rather ugly,” the emperor said. “Every time I think of it, I’m disgusted.”

Chu Wanning’s shoulders hunched. He very much wanted to curl up into a ball and pretend he was not here. Was the memory so terrible for the emperor that his dislike had bled over onto this tree?

“It’s just a tree,” Chu Wanning’s voice sounded faint.

Taxian-jun’s hand moved to his chest, clenching his robes right over his chest. “I suppose so. Yet it pains me quite a lot. I was thinking of having it chopped down, but a part of me wanted to see it one last time before I did so.”

The emperor glanced over, smiling. “I’m glad that I did. It led me straight to you, Shizun.”

He reached over, hand brushing against Chu Wanning’s cheek. “Why did you make me forget?”

His voice sounded so pained, so weak and familiar, more like the Mo Ran that Chu Wanning once knew. Chu Wanning shivered and felt himself waver. How badly he wanted to fall forward, to meet Mo Ran halfway in an embrace and never let go.

The memories of the cold palace refused him this impulse.

Chu Wanning jerked away. “It’s just as I said. It would be better for you to forget me. I’ll only bring you trouble.”

The emperor scowled and retracted his hand. “If you didn’t want to belong to this venerable one, then why did you come back to the palace? You should have known I’d confer a title upon you. Or did you not take my words seriously the last time we met?”

Chu Wanning stilled. The last time they met...for Chu Wanning, it had been his banishment to a cold palace, a bowl of wontons thrown at his feet as Mo Ran trampled over his battered heart. For Mo Ran?

Their last meeting had been before Chu Wanning came back to the palace, and Chu Wanning found himself flushing at the memory he recalled.

His disciple had been younger, on the cusp of adulthood, and yet steadfast in his desires. A hot-blooded qianyuan prince. Mo Ran had cornered him in the library one evening, confessing with dark, watery eyes that he wanted him very badly. He held Chu Wanning's wrists in his hands, pressing him back against a shelf of scrolls. Mo Ran had muttered such filthy things in his ear, nudging a knee between Chu Wanning's thighs. Before Mo Ran could discover his sorry state, Chu Wanning had pushed him away and bolted. He could not endure such humiliation, and so that very night, he'd packed his bags and left the palace.

"You were far too young to be having those sorts of thoughts." Chu Wanning looked away, unable to meet the emperor's gaze. His voice grew colder as he continued. "Besides, I thought such feelings would have faded with time. I came back to teach, not to play the part of your whore."

Taxian-jun laughed, and his lips curled into a cruel grin.

“Too bad! You were wrong,” he pinched Chu Wanning’s chin in his hand, forcing the other to look him in the eye. “You turned down what I offered you years ago. I would have made you my wangfei, but now? This is the most I can give you.”

Chu Wanning glared.

“You’re lucky I don’t push you down right here and now. It’d be so easy. I think I’d like to take you on your back, just to see how pitiful you look when I fuck you,” Taxian-jun licked his lips.

His words elicited a shiver from Chu Wanning, who tried to pretend he wasn’t the least bit affected. He stared at the emperor blankly, mouth pinched tight in displeasure.

The emperor pressed close to him, reminding Chu Wanning how much taller and larger his former disciple was. Mo Ran dwarfed him in size, big enough to cover him completely. He wondered if the emperor really was about to sleep with him here in the gardens, where anyone walking by could see. Chu Wanning’s breath hitched.

How shameless, he scolded himself. His mind remembered what his body did not, wary of Mo Ran’s touch and the inevitable despair it would bring him.

The emperor leaned in, eyes fluttering closed, and Chu Wanning knew that if Mo Ran kissed him here and now, then he would be willing to give him everything, even if it meant damning himself a second time.

“Don’t,” Chu Wanning gasped out, the only thing he could say at that moment.

Taxian-jun paused, face clouding over. He opened his eyes and searched Chu Wanning’s face for something.

“Fine.” The emperor let go. The sudden lack of warmth made Chu Wanning feel cold.

“This venerable one shall wait for you, Chu Wanning. I won’t touch you until the day you come crawling to me yourself, begging to be fucked,” Taxian-jun promised, eyes dark.

Without waiting for a reply, he turned with a flip of his sleeves and left Chu Wanning in shock and disappointment.

This was nothing like the past. The Taxian-jun from his past life would ignore any and all of his pleas, only concerned with using Chu Wanning in pursuit of his own pleasure. So why did he listen to him now, stopping whenever Chu Wanning asked?

Luo Xianxian hurried over once the emperor was gone. “Should this servant prepare Chu-cairen for a visit from the emperor tonight?”

Chu Wanning shook his head, feeling rather lost. “He won’t be coming.”

Luo Xianxian’s eyes darted up to look at him. “Does that make you...unhappy, Chu-cairen?”

“Of course not!” he shot her a glare.

After all, he wanted Mo Ran to leave him alone. From the sounds of it, the emperor wouldn’t pay Chu Wanning any attention unless he came asking for it, which would never happen.

Never.

Taxian-jun did not flip a nameplate that night. Instead, he settled for a tall, willowy zhongyong from the kitchens with a small mouth and sharp eyes. He forced his cock down her throat and with a fist in her black hair guided her up and down. She gagged and whimpered in protest at the brutal pace he set, but the emperor paid her no mind. He appeared dazed as he fucked her mouth, thinking of how another zhongyong would have rewarded him with a poisonous, hate-filled glare if he treated him in such a way.

But how could Chu Wanning blame him? If Taxian-jun didn’t guide him, he would have no idea what to do. He imagined Chu Wanning staring at his cock in confusion, before ultimately deciding to give small, hesitant licks. Taking it all into his mouth would have never crossed his mind. Chu Wanning would be adamant there was no way he could fit all of it inside his mouth.

“But Chu-cairen,” Taxian-jun would tell him, reaching down to gently press against his entrance, “shouldn’t you worry about it fitting here?”

Chu Wanning would look so pretty sitting on his cock, mewling and panting as he cried. Taxian-jun just had to drag him off that lofty pedestal and press him down, down, down until they were on equal footing. Chu Wanning belonged to him by law now, caged in like a pretty songbird by the palace walls. Taxian-jun could take him whenever he liked, cover him with bruises and bitemarks as he forced his way inside.

His chest ached at the thought. That wouldn't do. A part of him refused to take unless it was freely given. Chu Wanning would taste better once he was willing, smelling so sweetly too. A zhongyong had no smell, but his shizun was the exception. Many times in his youth he'd caught a faint whiff of haitang blossoms from Chu Wanning's skin, and the smell was enough to make his cock hard. Taxian-jun sat through lessons with a flushed face as he covered his crotch. His eyes never left the sight of his proud shizun, imagining how he'd look when getting fucked across his desk.

“Mo Ran,” his shizun would call, pleading, begging as he bounced on his cock. Taxian-jun imagined leaning down and sinking his teeth into his neck, a crude imitation of a mating mark.

If he mated Chu Wanning, then he’d be his forever.

With a groan, Taxian-jun pulled the girl off quickly, painting her face with white ropes of come.

Ah, Chu Wanning would look so lovely painted like this, lips swollen and eyes red, the perfect picture of a bullied concubine.

“Your Majesty,” the girl fluttered her eyelashes as she reached out to him.

“That’s enough!” Taxian-jun waved her away. His illusion had been shattered as soon as she opened her mouth. He had no more use for her.

The high of his orgasm faded, and he was left empty and sullen.

Chu Wanning...how dare you leave this venerable one wanting?

He wiped himself off with a cloth, then sent her away. Eunuch Fu entered just as the servant girl left, approaching to ask in a quiet voice what rank he would like to give the girl.

Taxian-jun snorted. “Cainu.”

It was the lowest rank of his harem. She had approached him in such a boring manner, the same as all ambitious maids, and yet in his frustration, he had allowed it. She was a poor substitute, nothing at all like the real thing.

He thought of Chu Wanning’s slender form this afternoon, still dressed plainly in white.

“Have gifts sent to Chu-cairen’s palace - jewelry and silks,” he instructed, drumming his fingers on the arm of his chair.

“Your Majesty?” Eunuch Fu blinked, looking a little confused.

“He should have the best.”

It would take time, but he would eventually hold Chu Wanning in the palm of his hand, his to take apart and devour.

If Mo Ran thought he could be bought with pretty trinkets, then he was sorely mistaken. Chu Wanning wrinkled his nose at the endless line of chests brought into his manor. Jewels and hairpins, colorful robes and shoes - all of it was an eyesore.

“Chu-cairen must have left a deep impression on the emperor.” Luo Xianxian picked up a silky, crimson robe and gaped. “Such beautiful things you’ve been given!”

“Hmph,” Chu Wanning snorted. He turned away from the gifts the servants brought in, looking down at his embroidery piece.

Once the servants had finished loading everything inside his residence, a eunuch delivered the message that the emperor would soon be joining Chu Wanning once he finished today’s matters at court. Such news filled Chu Wanning with dread, but he tried to hide his displeasure, humming his assent.

The servants and eunuchs left his residence. Chu Wanning turned away from Luo Xianxian’s excited face, unsure of how he could possibly match her enthusiasm.
“Send for some tea and snacks. I cannot afford to offend the emperor.”

Luo Xianxian followed his command and sent another palace maid to fetch the refreshments. Chu Wanning continued to embroider his mess of a design.

The maid soon returned with the requested tea and cakes. She made to set the tray on the table right beside Chu Wanning, but she seemed a little wobbly. Chu Wanning caught sight of this movement out of the corner of his eye, and he reached out to try and steady the girl as she started to fall.

This action rewarded him with a splash of boiling hot tea to his arm. Chu Wanning flinched, retracting his arm quickly with a quiet hiss, but the damage had already been done. The blistering red of his arm could be seen through his sleeve.

“Fool!” Luo Xianxian cried. “You’ve injured Chu-cairen! How dare you? Kneel!”

The girl cowered, dropping to the floor immediately as she lowered her head. “Please have mercy, Your Highness! This slave merely tripped!”

Chu Wanning cradled his arm to his chest, narrowing his eyes. “Raise your head.”

The maid slowly lifted it, revealing a pock-marked face that Chu Wanning had wanted so very badly to hit in his last life. This maid belonged to Rong Jiu. She had done this sort of thing before, purposefully spilling hot tea on him to disfigure him. Many times she aimed for his face, but Chu Wanning was quick enough to duck away. In his past life when he no longer had his cultivation, he'd been given a rather nasty scar on his left thigh.

But that didn’t really matter - not when compared to this maid’s most egregious sin.

She had killed Luo Xianxian.

Chu Wanning used his undamaged hand to strike the girl across the face. Hard. He wanted her dragged from his palace and flogged, but before he could dare to issue the command, a eunuch scurried in.

“His Majesty arrives!”

Chu Wanning glanced up to see Taxian-jun sweeping through the entrance, features dark and twisted as he glanced at the crying maid. Chu Wanning straightened his shoulders when he should have shied away, too proud to play the part of the emperor’s wounded woman. Mo Ran would take pity on this sobbing girl and admonish him, as he had done many times before when Chu Wanning lashed out at disobedient servants.

Or so he thought.

Instead of demanding to know what Chu Wanning had done and comforting the bullied maid, Taxian-jun flicked his wrist and ordered, “Drag her down and give her fifty strokes.”

Chu Wanning’s eyes widened.

Without giving the weeping maid so much as a second glance, Taxian-jun swept by and guided Chu Wanning to a chair. The emperor brought Chu Wanning’s scalded arm forward and began to transfer spiritual energy to heal it.

“Fifty strokes will kill the girl,” Chu Wanning said quietly.

Taxian-jun raised an eyebrow. “Do you wish to take them in her place?”

Chu Wanning shut his mouth. He would not argue for this girl who would no doubt scheme to kill Luo Xianxian, but he was amazed at how quickly and harshly Taxian-jun had punished her.

The pain in his arm faded away, becoming as pale and smooth as before. Taxian-jun soon finished transferring energy, but the tense silence between them that followed was unbearable.

“You didn’t think I was being unreasonable? That I was bullying her?” Chu Wanning finally asked.

“You, a bully? Don’t make me laugh, Shizun,” the emperor snorted. He still held Chu Wanning’s arm, touch feeling far too hot. “You can be quick to dole out harsh punishments, but you have a strong sense of right and wrong. You wouldn’t slap someone unless they deserved it. That girl deserved worse for almost scarring you, so I made sure that’s what she was given. If anything, you should accuse me of being a bully.”

Was this how it felt? To be protected and pampered by the emperor? Just this moment was enough for Chu Wanning to understand why so many concubines would scheme for such favor.

Chu Wanning lowered his gaze. “You are the emperor. All that you say and do is correct.”

Before Chu Wanning could retract his arm, Taxian-jun let go. The emperor stood up, preparing to leave as soon as he'd arrived.

“It seems my presence here has brought you pain. I shall take my leave,” Taxian-jun said.

Chu Wanning opened his mouth, looking up sort of helplessly. When he met Taxian-jun’s gaze, there was something triumphant there. The emperor reached out to hold his chin, thumb gently tracing across his quivering bottom lip. Taxian-jun leaned in, almost like he would for a kiss, and Chu Wanning felt his eyelashes flutter shut against his will, resigning himself to fall into this man’s embrace.

The kiss landed on his forehead, and Chu Wanning opened his eyes, frowning.

"Careful, Shizun," the emperor smirked. "If you keep looking at me like that, I might get the wrong idea."

“Shameless!” Chu Wanning hissed, jerking away.

Taxian-jun only chuckled in response. He seemed to find Chu Wanning’s reaction far too amusing. “I’ll visit you again tomorrow. Don’t let the anticipation get you all hot and bothered.”

Chu Wanning's eyes narrowed as he glared daggers into the emperor’s back, hands clenching into tight fists that only relaxed once Taxian-jun was gone. Just like that, the emperor had left without staying for very long. He hadn’t even thought about spending the night at Chu Wanning’s palace.

The emperor’s actions left Chu Wanning confused, unsure of the emotions he was experiencing. Taxian-jun had acted so differently from how he did in his past life. Was it because the flower no longer had a direct influence on his thoughts and feelings? Perhaps that was the explanation for why Taxian-jun would visit Chu Wanning and take nothing at all.

The Taxian-jun of the past cared very little about what Chu Wanning wanted. That Taxian-jun hated him, always thinking the worst of Chu Wanning. He pinched and prodded mercilessly to get whatever reaction he could, and his most favorite reaction seemed to be Chu Wanning's tears.

This Taxian-jun acted more like the Mo Ran that Chu Wanning fell in love with, and yet it seemed like he no longer wanted anything from Chu Wanning. A pit dug itself into Chu Wanning's stomach at the thought, a hollowed-out emptiness that rocked his entire body with a dull ache.

The realization that Taxian-jun did not want him - even if it was for a tumble in the sheets - made Chu Wanning feel so lonely.

“Chu-cairen…Is everything alright?” Luo Xianxian inched forward hesitantly.

“Surely he will forget,” Chu Wanning said, speaking mostly to himself. “I’m sure he’ll not come at all tomorrow.”

“Perhaps.” The doubtful look on Luo Xianxian’s face said otherwise.

The emperor did not forget to visit the next day. Or the day after that, or the next day after that. Taxian-jun kept coming back to Xue Palace, over and over again. Sometimes he brought scrolls for Chu Wanning to read or little trinkets he’d thought Chu Wanning would enjoy tinkering with. He never stayed for very long and rarely ever touched Chu Wanning more than a brush of his shoulder.

This only deepened Chu Wanning's confusion. He didn't understand what Taxian-jun gained from these visits, if he enjoyed any part of them at all. Chu Wanning always answered the emperor's questions with short, frosty sentences, giving him the cold shoulder and shying away from any sort of touch. No one would possibly enjoy such treatment, especially not when compared to the attention of a warm, simpering concubine.

Chu Wanning confessed these worries to his maid, who was quick to assure him.

"The emperor seems to value the bond between the two of you. He's come to visit you every day for three months. Clearly, he must enjoy seeing you! You have a stronger relationship than others. You were his teacher years ago. I'm sure His Majesty the Emperor has a deep respect for you."

Chu Wanning humphed. Deep respect? Then why did he grant his respected shizun the title of a concubine? It was a decision made to humiliate him. Gone was the lofty Yuheng Elder, replaced by the pitiful Lady of Talents. Yet the emperor had never favored this Lady of Talents. Not even once.

It’s what you wanted, Chu Wanning told himself. You didn’t want his favor. You hoped he wouldn’t touch you.

Yet I also hoped he wouldn’t look at me. I hoped he would ignore me. But he glances at me and speaks to me and still doesn’t touch -

“Does he favor someone every night as well?” Chu Wanning asked quietly.

Luo Xianxian stilled, giving him a rather guilty look. Chu Wanning frowned.

“List them for me.”

His maid obeyed reluctantly. “It’s usually only Empress Song and Imperial Concubine Rong. He never visits his three consorts, even though they rank higher than Rong-pin. I’ve heard he has a newly titled favorite, though. Some chambermaid he’s given the rank of cainu.”

She paused, perhaps waiting for Chu Wanning to say something. He waved her on, numb to her words.

“Many palace officials are eager for an heir.” Luo Xianxian wrung her hands. “He spends most nights with Empress Song. She’s the only kunze he favors, but there still haven’t been any movements.”

The information was nothing new. It was the same in the last life, so why did it sting? A part of Chu Wanning had thought that if Taxian-jun treated him differently, then perhaps he treated the others differently as well.

Of course not.

The emperor still enjoyed Empress Song’s sweet smell and Rong Jiu’s beautiful face. Chu Wanning could not fault him for that. Maybe if Chu Wanning stopped suppressing his cycles, the emperor would desire him. The revelation of his kunze nature had kept Taxian-jun’s attention for quite a long time in his past life.

Chu Wanning’s ears reddened at such shameless thoughts.

He quickly ended his discussion with Luo Xianxia. Chu Wanning forced himself to think of anything else. The emperor's visit later that day made this a near-impossible task. Taxian-jun guided him out to the garden pavilion to sit and practice calligraphy. A cool breeze ruffled the emperor's sleeves as he scribbled down one shaky stroke after another.

Once dry, he proudly displayed his efforts to Chu Wanning. “What does Shizun think of my writing?”

It looked more like chicken scrawl than anything legible. Chu Wanning paused to find the right words to say.

“Better than the last time I’d seen it,” he said at last.

Taxian-jun grinned, rolling up the scroll carefully. “Then I have no choice but to gift Chu-cairen such a piece. You can hang it at Xue Palace for all visitors to see.”

Chu Wanning received the gift, but he could not stop himself from frowning.

“What’s with that look?” Taxian-jun asked, smile fading. “If it’s truly ugly, just say so. Burn it, rip it up. Don’t just accept it halfheartedly. Any ordinary person would be honored to receive this venerable one’s writings.”

Chu Wanning’s frown deepened. He wanted to launch the scroll at Taxian-jun’s face. “Then maybe you should have given it to one of your favorites!” he snapped.

This outburst caught the emperor off guard. He raised his eyebrows, looking dumbfounded. “Who are you talking about?”

Chu Wanning wished he could hide his face with the scroll in his hands, but he refused to show such weakness.

“I’ve heard the Imperial Concubine has been perfecting a dance for Your Majesty,” Chu Wanning settled on saying. “Perhaps you should visit Rong-pin and see.”

“If I wanted to watch Rong Jiu dance, I would be there,” Taxian-jun said.

Chu Wanning huffed, feeling frustrated as he turned away from the emperor’s probing gaze. “You should leave soon. Your time is better spent elsewhere.”

The emperor remained quiet for a moment, perhaps picking apart Chu Wanning's words into something he could make sense of. Chu Wanning heard Taxian-jun stand from his chair, his footsteps dull and heavy as he approached from behind. Chu Wanning could not move, completely still even as an arm curled around his waist and brought him up against the emperor's chest.

He felt Taxian-jun’s lips brush against his earlobe. “Are you jealous?”

Chu Wanning could not see the expression on his face, but he knew from the sound of the emperor’s voice that he was grinning. Chu Wanning’s own face twisted into something murderous, and he struggled halfheartedly to push Taxian-jun away.

“Ah, of course. Jealousy is beneath you, isn’t it? You don’t care who I fuck at all.” The emperor’s hold tightened.

Chu Wanning gasped, feeling something solid and familiar press against his backside. He felt disgusted at the pleasure that flared in response, but it did nothing to quell his own growing arousal. Taxian-jun's smell permeated the air soon enough, a thick masculine scent that made Chu Wanning's knees weak. The restriction that bound his kunze nature also weakened his sense of smell slightly. This was only a taste of the emperor's pheromones, not quite as strong as Chu Wanning remembered. Yet it was enough.

“But Shizun,” Taxian-jun murmured, hand moving to palm at Chu Wanning’s crotch, “you look as if you care a great deal who I fuck. You could’ve run by now. You are the fearsome Yuheng Elder, powerful enough to escape these palace walls. So why did you stay here, as my concubine, unless you wanted to serve me?”

“No!” Chu Wanning protested, but his body responded quickly to the emperor’s touch, betraying him. “No! I don’t!”

Please, Mo Ran, he wanted to whimper.

He felt Mo Ran’s hot breath spill across the back of his neck. Chu Wanning shivered, freezing up as cold fingers trailed across his scent gland. He closed his eyes, waiting with bated breath for something, anything.

“If you were a kunze, this is where I would have bitten you.” Taxian-jun’s teeth grazed against that sweet spot, drawing out a moan from Chu Wanning. The emperor began to kiss and suckle his neck, still rubbing circles against Chu Wanning’s erection through his robes.

Everything felt hot, a horrible burning sensation that spread through Chu Wanning’s entire body. Mo Ran’s touch felt as good as he remembered, an addictive pleasure that set him on fire. If only he could spend forever in Mo Ran’s embrace...he felt Mo Ran suddenly withdraw his hand from his erection, move his spit-slick mouth away from his neck.

Chu Wanning whined in protest, teary eyes half-lidded as he moved around desperately, trying to find Mo Ran’s touch once more. A hand around his wrist stilled him, and a voice whispered promises in his ear.

“I can give you everything. I can fuck you so good, Chu Wanning. Wouldn’t you like that? You can stop thinking about anything. Just let me do all the work. Just let me take care of you. I’ll give you whatever you want, so please - “

The emperor’s voice broke, his hand trembling

“Shizun, won’t you let me?” Mo Ran asked.

Chu Wanning turned his head, and the expression on his former disciple's face drew out a tenderness from his heart. Mo Ran's eyes were wide and pleading, dark with desire, his swollen, red lips pouting. If he had a tail and ears, they'd be drooping right now.

He looked as he did all those years ago in the library, earnestly pleading for Chu Wanning to become his wangfei.

If Chu Wanning had been reborn to that moment in time instead, would he have changed his mind? If he could have been the proper wife of Mo Ran, would things have been different?

He felt a mixture of longing and regret, a desperate wish that he could somehow keep Mo Ran to himself. It did not last long before cold logic swept over his emotions.

He wrenched himself free from Taxian-jun, shaking his head.

“No,” he whispered, voice cracking. “I can’t.”

Nothing would ever change.

Nothing would ever change, because Mo Ran did not love Chu Wanning.

It was a simple fact, one that Chu Wanning had sworn never to forget after his rebirth. Yet somehow a few kisses and heavy pawing had turned him into quite the forgetful whore.

Chu Wanning refused to look at Mo Ran’s face, afraid of what horrible expression he might see. He gave a clumsy bow.

“This servant shall take his leave,” he uttered, not wasting a second more before he hurried away.

As he left the terrace, Luo Xianxian followed after, practically running to keep up.

The heat in Chu Wanning’s body was dying, cooled by his levelheaded memory, but if Mo Ran grabbed a hold of him now, if he murmured something sweet in his ear...Chu Wanning would give in without a second thought.

He desired his touch so badly, yet he loathed it as well. Chu Wanning wanted nothing more than to rip the roots of this one-sided love from his chest. The game Mo Ran had chosen to play with him was a cruel one, and Chu Wanning had grown tired of it.

Chu Wanning was so lost in his thoughts that he did not see the girl before he ran into her. She was a rather thin, plain-faced zhongyong, and the collision was enough to send her falling to the ground with a thud. Chu Wanning, of course, remained unharmed. He reached out a hand to help the girl up, but she slapped it away.

“To think that Chu-cairen has a habit of bullying other concubines,” the girl scoffed.

Chu Wanning was taken aback. Finally, his eyes landed on the outfit she was wearing, a dress designed in the style of a cainu. Though the robes were simple, they were brighter and softer than what Chu Wanning had worn near the end of his last life.

“My mistake,” he apologized, giving her a simple nod before he continued on his way.

"Do you think you are special just because the emperor visits you every day?" she shouted at him as she stood. Chu Wanning slowed his steps, turning back to stare.

Luo Xianxians stopped as well, panting heavily though she still found breath to admonish the girl. “This is Chu-cairen, who resides in Xue Palace. Who are you to speak so rudely?”

The girl puffed out her cheeks, though she straightened her posture and gave a formal bow. “I only speak from experience. Once Chu-cairen has finally given the emperor what he desires, you will be tossed aside. Just like me. He will no longer come.”

Chu Wanning looked up at the clear blue sky above. His lips quirked. “Could it be so simple?”

“Your Highness.” Luo Xianxian looked worried. She grabbed a hold of his arm, guiding him away from the girl. “Her rank is cainu, merely a maid who climbed atop the master’s bed. Pay no heed to what she says.”

Chu Wanning no longer hurried back to his palace. He maintained a slow, casual pace, while inside, his thoughts were all over the place. He came to a conclusion as he arrived at Xue Palace. He would end this silly game. He had to, before he lost himself completely.

So that was it then. It was just as the zhongyong girl had said.

For Mo Ran to become bored, Chu Wanning should sleep with him.

His hands curled into fists, fingernails pressing crescent shapes into his palms.

Fine, he thought. To protect his heart, he’d have to spread his legs. He’d give the emperor what he wanted so that he would leave.

But that left Chu Wanning with the question - how did one seduce the emperor?

In his last life, he had never been the one to initiate their intimate activities. It was always Mo Ran who sought him out, whose hands grabbed and pinched at whatever they could find, pressing wet kisses against every inch of skin and positioning his body in every which way.

Chu Wanning flushed at his memories.

He had never been very good when it came to his nightly duties. Everything he knew, Mo Ran had to teach him. He had no skills to keep Mo Ran by his side, nothing that the emperor hadn’t already experienced with any of his other concubines. Even if Chu Wanning tried to seduce Mo Ran, he knew he would only embarrass himself. Such a thing happened during his first heat, a result of the drugs that the emperor had stuffed down his throat.

Oh.

His heat.

Chu Wanning knew what he would have to do.

Chu Wanning always lost himself during his heats, his face thickening considerably as he acted like a wanton whore. If he stopped suppressing his kunze nature, a heat would soon hit and he’d be in the sort of state where he’d throw himself at the emperor, pride be damned.

He stared up at the ceiling as if to ask the Heavens if they had truly forsaken him, before letting out a deep, suffering sigh. Perhaps it was foolish to consider such an option, especially right after he had so vehemently rejected the emperor’s advances, but Chu Wanning had already made up his mind. He unclenched his fists. As he did so, he let go of the restriction he had set on himself years and years ago.

He hissed at the ache that came over his body, falling to his knees at the shock of what it felt like to be rid of the restriction. His body felt heavier in some places, while lighter in others, and he felt a stinging sensation in his nose, suddenly able to smell a thousand different scents at once. Chu Wanning rubbed at his temples, an unpleasant look forming on his face.

“Your Highness! Should I send for the imperial physician?”

Chu Wanning stood with Luo Xianxian’s help, walking over to the bed and sitting. He waved a hand, shaking his head. “There’s no need.”

The heat would come if he no longer suppressed it. It could be tomorrow. It could be months from now, perhaps even years. But it would come. The sooner, the better. Once it came and went, he would no longer be forced to pass his days in the presence of His Majesty. Instead, he would be left alone.

As it should be.

Chu Wanning’s mouth felt dry, and a lump formed in his throat. “Just get some medicine from a physician, preferably one whose silence can be bought. There is something I need that I cannot get myself. If no one will hand it over, then - “
He swallowed. “Ask one of Jiang-fei’s servants. Their master owes me a favor. He should not refuse.”

“What sort of medicine is this important, Your Highness?” Luo Xianxian wondered, furrowing her brow.

Chu Wanning told her.

The girl gasped, kneeling. “Chu-cairen, are you sure about this? If you do such a thing, if you are found out to have harmed another concubine...His Majesty’s wrath could ruin you.”

“I am aware of the risks. The medicine is for me. I will need it soon.”

Luo Xianxian blinked. Understanding dawned on her face. “Your Highness, you are…”

He nodded, but the confirmation of his true nature did not completely quell his servant’s fears. She continued to protest.

“Still, the emperor would not be happy! If he finds out, he might send you to a cold palace! Or worse, His Majesty would exile you to some far-off temple!”

“It doesn’t matter. The alternative would be far worse than any of that,” Chu Wanning said. He took a deep breath. “Can I trust you with this?”

His servant was quiet for a moment before she finally bowed. "This servant understands. I shall do as you ask."

She took her leave, off to find what he had requested.

Chu Wanning laid down on his bed, curled up into a ball as his inner organs began to shift in protest, and waited for his heat to come.

He did not have to wait very long at all. A mere few hours later, Chu Wanning writhed in bed, aching and leaking as his first heat in ages ravaged his body. His consciousness began to fade, and he soon became a mindless beast, a victim to his own nature’s desires.

Everything was hot. He had taken off his robes soon enough, and he found himself twisting around his sheets, restless and agitated. Chu Wanning felt so wet, so empty.

“Mo Ran,” he called pitifully, rocking his hips against the firmness of his bed. His hands twisted around the sheets, sweat dripping down his neck as his skin flushed a bright red.

Where was his qianyuan? Why hadn't he come? Chu Wanning wondered, his thoughts a warm haze of lust and want.

He needed Mo Ran right this instant, needed to feel him press inside, so big and thick and hot, forcing him open with a painful stretch. Chu Wanning heard himself calling, crying out almost deliriously for his qianyuan. He wanted to be fucked nice and hard, to be treated meanly and yet carefully at the same time. He wanted Mo Ran’s large hands grabbing at his waist and forcing his legs apart to dive in and give him a good, proper fuck.

Chu Wanning whined desperately, hoping he could soon show his qianyuan what a good kunze he could be.

Time passed, dragging on for far too long before Chu Wanning was finally offered relief in the form of the most delicious smell. He peeked his head up from his burrow of blankets once he caught the first whiff of it, vision blurry as he glanced around his room. Eventually, his eyes landed on a tall figure dressed in black standing nearby. Chu Wanning sniffed cautiously, embarrassed at the slick that ran down his thighs in response.

The qianyuan approached slowly, eyes nearly red with desire. “Chu Wanning...you’re a kunze?”

Ah, that voice.

Chu Wanning mewled and shuffled closer, nuzzling his face into the palm of the hand that reached out to him.

“Look at you,” the qianyuan continued. His gentle grip turned a little bruising as he pinched Chu Wanning’s cheek, eliciting a tiny growl and glare. “Look at you...If I had known earlier, I would have stuffed you full of tonics before you even crossed the threshold.”

Chu Wanning preened at the attention, turning his head and offering a view of his pale, unmarred neck.

His qianyuan sucked in a deep breath, fingers trailing across Chu Wanning’s scent glands. “Ah, Shizun. Surely you know who I am? You know what it means, showing me a sight like this?”

Chu Wanning furrowed his brow, unsure of how to make sense of those words right now. He settled for grinding his lower half against his bed desperately, looking up with wide, teary eyes as he cried, “Mo Ran?”

“That’s right.” Mo Ran shuddered. “Now, present.”

Chu Wanning moved as if on autopilot. He turned himself over and spread his legs, ass up in the air as he looked over his shoulder, eager to see if he had pleased Mo Ran. Another gush of slick trickled down his legs, shiny and clear, and Chu Wanning’s hole fluttered.

“Perfect,” Mo Ran praised. There was a rumble in his chest. “Absolutely perfect.”

A hand clamped around Chu Wanning’s neck, warm breath spilling over his scent glands and for a moment - just a moment, he thought -

Mo Ran flipped him over, spreading his thighs to get a good look at the most eager, dripping parts of him. Mo Ran’s palm ghosted around his cock, rubbing circles around the wet heat.

The qianyuan clucked his tongue as if admonishing him. "So small, Shizun. You can't fuck anyone with this. Though I suppose that's why you have something else, hmm?"

His fingers ran down his length, eliciting a shudder from the kunze until they finally stopped at the small, discreet folds below. Chu Wanning froze, waiting with bated breath for Mo Ran to do anything, to say something.

But the qianyuan merely stood there, staring at his most secret place with the look of a starving man.

“I could play with your pussy for hours,” Mo Ran finally said, thumb circling the outside of Chu Wanning’s hole. “Perhaps one day I’ll do just that, hmm?”

Two of his fingers dipped inside, giving the slightest bit of relief and simultaneously making the craving worse.

“Mo Ran!” Chu Wanning whined, face even redder than before. “Please, stop joking!”

“Joking?” Mo Ran sounded amused. “You misunderstand. It’s a promise.”

He inserted two more fingers, his movements jerky and forceful as he made small, shallow thrusts.

Mean. Mo Ran was just too mean.

“Noooo. No!” Chu Wanning begged. That wasn’t enough. That wasn’t what he wanted, and Mo Ran knew it!

“No?” Mo Ran asked. He withdrew his fingers completely, and Chu Wanning was left clenching around nothing at all.

Chu Wanning glared, eyes wet and red. He leaned forward to bite into his qianyuan’s shoulder, tearing muscle and skin as his teeth sunk deep enough to draw blood. He wanted Mo Ran to hurt just as bad as him, to know exactly what he was doing. Chu Wanning pulled away, licking his lips, only to find Mo Ran smiling back at him, very much not taught a lesson at all.

“You know what I need,” Chu Wanning sulked. “You’re being a bad qianyuan.”

A pleased look came over Mo Ran’s face, and he pressed a gentle kiss to Chu Wanning’s forehead. “Be patient.”

His hands roved up, pinching and twisting at Chu Wanning’s chest. Mo Ran took one nipple into his mouth and suckled gently, looking up at Chu Wanning with dark eyes. Chu Wanning shuddered and tried to push him away.

“Stop!” he protested. “Not there.”

Mo Ran let go albeit reluctantly. “These will look even better when I’ve put a pup in you. Full and heavy, I bet they’ll leak all the time. Shizun, will you let me have a taste when they do?”

Mo Ran’s words should have been a sobering thought, but Chu Wanning was in the throes of heat. Such talk only excited him right now.

He nodded slowly, mind fuzzy and content at the thought of having Mo Ran’s child, of providing for his mate.

“Such a good kunze...maybe I should stop teasing, hmm?”

Chu Wanning nodded eagerly, clenching and unclenching as more slick ran down his legs, drenching the sheets below. He lay back, spreading his legs even wider in anticipation. Mo Ran was going to fuck him now. He was going to knot him and give him a child.

“But still, I’m not quite sure what you want exactly? Chu Wanning, remind me?”

Chu Wanning shivered, closing his eyes as he slowly brought his legs back together, a little ashamed at how easily he’d thought Mo Ran would give him what he wanted.

“I want...to be a good kunze,” Chu Wanning uttered, his voice soft as it cracked.

“I already know that, baobei? What else?”

Chu Wanning whined helplessly. He felt his bottom lip tremble. He didn’t know what else his qianyuan wanted him to say. He couldn’t find the words to please him, and so he felt like a failure. Chu Wanning curled in on himself, trying to turn away.

Mo Ran wouldn’t let him. He hushed his cries gently, scooping him up and holding him close. He spread Chu Wanning’s legs himself this time, and something throbbed against his wet hole, sliding against but never in.

“Beg for it, Shizun. Tell me how much you want it.”

Finally, Chu Wanning understood what he had to do. He rocked forward, eyes damp and bright as he muttered, “Please fuck me, Mo Ran. I want it. I need it. Need you. Please.”

Mo Ran grinned and slowly slid inside.

Too much, too much, too much. Even during a heat with plenty of slick and relaxed muscles, Mo Ran’s cock was far too large not to be painful. Chu Wanning felt as if he had been split open over a sword, his entire body cut in two, and he began to gasp, short sounds of pain leaving him.

“It’s alright, baobei. Shhh. You can take it. You were made for this. Look at you, you take it so perfectly. I won’t move just yet. I want to look at this, the sight of you taking your first cock.”

Mo Ran’s words distracted him a little, though he barely understood them. They cut through the haze of pain and hurt, giving way to a pleasure that settled in his core. A current of want shuddered through his body, and Chu Wanning moaned, feeling impossibly full.

Mo Ran eventually began to move. He made slow, shallow thrusts into Chu Wanning's body as if he were testing the waters, seeing how much Chu Wanning could take. Chu Wanning wrapped his arms around Mo Ran's neck.

“More,” he begged, voice breathy and weak.

Mo Ran obliged, thrusting at a more powerful, fast pace. The sounds of their union were positively obscene; Chu Wanning tried very much to ignore the slapping of skin and the squelching of fluids. Instead, he focused on Mo Ran's eyes, on his mouth and his face, how he looked in that moment as he fucked Chu Wanning, dwarfing his body with his own.

Mo Ran had the look of someone who was seeing Chu Wanning for the first time, his eyes wide and reverent. He muttered all sorts of sweet things into Chu Wanning’s ears, talking about their future, about how smooth and tight Chu Wanning felt, how beautiful he was.

Chu Wanning allowed himself to drown in these compliments, falling back into the pleasure that engulfed him. His teeth and gums began to ache, and Chu Wanning snarled as he bit his own wrist, searching desperately for someone, something to sink his teeth into. Though he wanted very badly to claim Mo Ran as his qianyuan, a sliver of reason shone through the haze, letting his heat-addled brain know what a horrible idea that was.

He keened as he saw Mo Ran’s nose twitch, saw his eyes close and his face twist into pleasure. Chu Wanning came at the sight of it, his cock spurting small splatters of come and his cunt clenching tighter around Mo Ran. His qianyuan soon followed, his cock growing impossibly large inside of Chu Wanning as he knotted him.

For the next few hours, they remained locked together. Mo Ran maneuvered them on their sides, and every now and then he would run a hand through Chu Wanning’s hair as he slept. Chu Wanning found himself drifting asleep, and when he awoke, it was to the feel of Mo Ran’s cock slipping free, warm come spilling out of his tender, red hole.

“Ah,” he grimaced. He felt raw all over, sore and worn out. Chu Wanning curled into himself, tugging a sheet over his body as he turned away. He had sobered up a little, though he still felt warm and itchy all over.

Mo Ran pressed kisses, biting and sucking as he pleased, though he was careful to avoid Chu Wanning’s scent glands.

“Don’t go back to sleep, baobei.” Mo Ran dragged him over, settling in close behind as something hard and familiar pressed against Chu Wanning’s backside.

Already? Chu Wanning thought incredulously. If he hadn't known any better, he would have thought Mo Ran was the one in heat instead. He had almost forgotten how insatiable Mo Ran could be.

With a sigh, Chu Wanning parted his legs slightly and allowed the qianyuan in once more.

Chu Wanning was fucked quite thoroughly throughout his heat. As Mo Ran cradled him in his arms, Chu Wanning felt protected and cherished, as if he were worthy of Mo Ran's care. This heat had allowed Chu Wanning one last fantasy.

Mo Ran would tire of his taste and never visit Chu Wanning again now that he’d gotten what he wanted.

Chu Wanning was wrong. Again.

Even once his heat was gone and his pheromones had faded, the emperor still came to him. Now his visits always extended into the night, and Mo Ran couldn’t seem to keep his hands off of Chu Wanning. Chu Wanning put up protests, but he had always been weak to Mo Ran’s touch. It had been much easier to resist when he’d forgotten the taste and touch of the emperor, but now Chu Wanning was a starving man who had tasted food for the first time in a very long time. How could he possibly say no when offered up a meal, again and again?

Mo Ran seemed to be pleased by his performance in bed, enough that he granted him the title of fei. He promised Chu Wanning he would soon move him to a bigger and better palace once work on it had been completed. He lavished Chu Wanning with even more affection and gifts, but Chu Wanning’s heart was not moved.

Chu Wanning cared very little for the title of Worthy Consort or the palace of Red Lotus Pavilion. They were bad omens, signs that his second life would end the same as his last. Chu Wanning did his best to avoid upsetting the emperor. He also refused to make any sort of dish for Mo Ran, even when begged. Chu Wanning would not surrender himself to such humiliation ever again. He made sure to drink the tea that Luo Xianxian brought for him every morning, his last effort to keep some semblance of control over his own fate.

The months passed in a sort of eerie lull, far too calm and quiet as compared to the past. Chu Wanning grew a little paranoid, looking over his shoulder for any hidden daggers or schemes. His position worsened when Mo Ran continued to visit him and him alone, neglecting his other concubines and even his empress.

He knew something was coming, some sort of attack or trap created by Rong Jiu or Empress Song.

It was only a matter of when.

He had expected more tricks to scar his face, and he had even prepared for poison in his soup. Chu Wanning had not realized how easy he had made it for them. They did not need to create a scheme. They only needed to uncover his own.

Mo Ran visited him earlier than usual the next week. It was the first sign that something was wrong. Chu Wanning was still drinking his morning tea, relaxing as the sunlight shone over his courtyard.

He set his tea aside and started to smile in greeting, but he noticed something off about Mo Ran’s expression. The emperor’s face betrayed nothing, and his scent was hidden away. Yet Chu Wanning could discern that something had angered him with just a glance.

He furrowed his brow. “What’s the matter?”

The emperor sat across from him. He stared at Chu Wanning, then his eyes moved to the cup of tea in front of him. “When did you start to drink tea in the mornings?”

Chu Wanning stilled, feeling a pit grow in his stomach. Mo Ran didn’t know. He couldn’t know. Right? He felt a tug at his sleeve. Luo Xianxian was beside him, looking anxious and terrified.

“Only recently,” Chu Wanning admitted, trying to remain calm. “Though I don’t take it every day.”

“Oh?” Taxian-jun smiled. He reached over, taking the cup in his hand. He sniffed the tea and made as if to drink it.

Chu Wanning heard Luo Xianxian give a gasp, and he immediately closed his eyes, knowing what would happen next.

“Your Majesty!” Luo Xianxian threw herself down before him. “This slave deserves death!”

Chu Wanning opened his eyes and watched as Luo Xianxian trembled like a leaf in front of them, waiting for her punishment. The emperor didn’t seem to care about the role she had played in this deceit. He stared at Chu Wanning, eyes dark and angry.

“Leave us,” he commanded. He still held the cup of tea in his mind.

Luo Xianxian scurried off, though she gave one last helpless look over her shoulder. It was just Chu Wanning and the emperor now, sitting in the courtyard. There was no yelling or shouting, yet the intense fury of Taxian-jun weighed down on Chu Wanning’s shoulders, making him feel like a scolded child.

“What sort of tea is this venerable one’s consort taking?” Though he sounded calm, the look on the emperor’s face was frightening. He already understood what his kunze had done and had known before he came here. This revelation had been the cause for his early visit.

Chu Wanning remained silent. How did he explain such a thing to the emperor? His actions went against his own nature and the will of the imperial bloodline. Taxian-jun needed to have heirs. Chu Wanning should be doing his absolute best to conceive, not drinking tea to stop a pregnancy from happening.

Yet how could Chu Wanning allow a child to form, knowing what sad fate awaited them both? He still remembered the crushing of his pelvis, blood caked on his thighs as he passed his stillborn in his past life. He wouldn’t take any chances in this one. From the very first night Chu Wanning spent with the emperor, he started drinking tea the next morning. Continuous use of such contraception proved dangerous, but Chu Wanning hadn’t thought he’d be drinking it for as long as he did. He had expected Taxian-jun to tire of him soon.

Perhaps this was all it took to lose the emperor’s favor - a cup of tea every morning.

“Chu Wanning. Explain.” The emperor’s voice sounded flat.

“It is exactly what Your Majesty thinks it is,” Chu Wanning offered, eyes resting on the table before him. His nose twitched. “Just like what Rong Jiu or the empress told you.”

The emperor’s scent curdled suddenly, showing his displeasure in the form of a sour, unpleasant smell, and Taxian-jun clenched the teacup in his hands, shattering it. The smell of copper soon joined the air as well, crimson blood running down the emperor’s arm and dripping to the floor.

Taxian-jun shook slightly, his body trembling with rage and frustration as his eyes bore a hole into Chu Wanning. If he still had the flower embedded in his chest, Chu Wanning thought it likely the emperor might have killed him.

The silence was unbearable, a tense thing stretched out for long enough, before it was broken by the same person who shattered the teacup in his hands.

“Why?” Taxian-jun asked, something hurt and vulnerable in his eyes that died at Chu Wanning’s next words.

“I cannot bear your child, Mo Ran.”

He did not know how to word it any better than that. His feelings towards the matter were so complex, twisted together and buried deep within his heart. How could he possibly lay it all out for Mo Ran to see? How could he appear so weak, so foolish in front of someone who wouldn’t even care?

The emperor’s expression turned ugly.

"Is this venerable one not good enough? Does Shizun fear polluting his bloodline, that he might be dirtied by carrying the whelp of a former street rat? You think yourself so above me! You refuse my gifts and look at me with such disdain, even now! Even now after everything, you - "

Taxian-jun cut himself off, clutching at his chest. “You are so hateful, Chu Wanning. Nothing I do moves you!”

Taxian-jun had already misunderstood everything. There was no way Chu Wanning could convince him otherwise. He found himself growing irritated at Taxian-jun’s childish anger.

“What does it matter what I think? What does it matter if I have your child or not? You have countless others in your harem to give birth for you. It makes no difference,” Chu Wanning stood up, eyes blazing. “Even if I did have a child, do you think it would be happy to be born?”

Taxian-jun scoffed. He glared at Chu Wanning. “You think it would be so miserable to be the son of an emperor? To grow up in a palace filled with luxury?”

“I think it would be miserable to be the son of an unloved consort!”

The words were like a slap to Taxian-jun’s face. Mo Ran had been brought to the palace when he was very young, right after his commoner mother had died. He grew up bullied and mistreated. It was a miracle that he even made it to adulthood. He knew firsthand what Chu Wanning’s words meant.

Taxian-jun’s hand twisted in his robes, still clutching at his chest. A pained expression came over his face, but his eyes remained red with anger.

“You think that I would treat you in such a way? That I would treat our child in that way?”

Chu Wanning took a deep breath. “I don’t think. I know.” 

Chu Wanning thought Taxian-jun would reach over and slap him as he did a lifetime ago. Instead, the emperor threw his head back and laughed. It was a chilling sound, one that became more frightening the longer it continued. Chu Wanning stepped back, terrified of the emperor’s next move.

He didn’t need to be so afraid. In the next second, Taxian-jun had fallen to his knees. He coughed, spitting blood, and Chu Wanning hurried to catch him before his head hit the ground.

“It hurts,” Mo Ran sputtered, a hand over his heart as he stared up at Chu Wanning with bleary eyes.

"What's wrong?" Chu Wanning looked him over, alarmed. He tried to find the source of Mo Ran's pain to remove it but discovered nothing physically wrong. He started to transmit his own energy, trying desperately to keep the emperor conscious.

He soon sensed a split within Mo Ran’s energy, as if something inside had been fractured.

“Shizun, it hurts,” Mo Ran repeated. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he slumped over.

Chu Wanning’s hands shook.

“The emperor is hurt!” Chu Wanning called for servants nearby to come. “Bring a physician. Quick!”

This wasn’t supposed to happen! What had caused the split to Mo Ran’s soul, the decline in his health?

It couldn't be the flower. Chu Wanning had completely eliminated it.

Hadn't he?

Chapter Text

Mo Ran retained very few memories of his youth. He remembered the hollow ache of his stomach as his mother struggled to feed them on the streets, the coldness that seeped into his bones when he entered the palace as a long-lost imperial son, and the vile eyes and poisonous words of the officials who mocked him.

He was picked on by the other princes, singled out as the weakest link in the chain, and Mo Ran struggled to make any sort of friends. No one wanted to befriend a street rat, the least favored son of the emperor. Dirty blood ran through his veins, so poisonous and sickening that no one dared come close.

His palace was sparse with few servants and very little funds. Many times Mo Ran found himself going hungry again, his servings of food stolen away by his own hungry servants who liked to laugh at his rumbling tummy.

Mo Ran lived no life of splendor. He hated the palace and everyone in it. His dying mother had promised him that things would be better if he just took her pendant and letter to a palace official, if he just revealed his identity and entered the palace. Mo Ran should not have listened to her. He should have just given up and died with her. It would have been less painful.

The resentment and the hatred grew in him as the years went by, and he grew weaker, sicker. On one night, the servant of an older brother chased him out into the gardens, beating Mo Ran with a stick. He had only wanted to attend the banquet that evening, to fill his stomach and get a glimpse at the illustrious Yuheng Elder who his Royal Father had hoped would teach the Crown Prince.

"Ugly dog!" the servant sneered, whacking his arm. "You think you have the right to sit among the Royal Highnesses? Do them all a favor. Just go drown yourself in the lake!"

The servant left him there, crouching behind a bush and shivering in the cold night air. Mo Ran’s clothing was thin and filled with holes. His palace had no funds to provide for new ones, or at least that’s what the eunuch in charge of his household said. So he sat there in the gardens, body aching with bruises and cuts, fading in and out of consciousness as his stomach growled. He feared that the servant was still waiting nearby, ready to brandish his stick once more and teach him a lesson. Mo Ran was tired of all the pain.

He closed his eyes and found himself drifting off into a pleasant dream. And then a miracle happened.

“What are you doing out here, little prince?” a soft voice asked.

Mo Ran raised his head, bleary eyes cracking open to see the shape of a Bodhisattva, shining in pure white robes as they held a lantern in one hand. He couldn’t make out his face in the darkness of the night, but Mo Ran knew this person must be beautiful.

“Food,” he muttered, eyes tearing up. He knew he sounded and looked pitiful, but that didn’t matter. Mo Ran was just a child. How could he be strong in the face of all his suffering? “Hungry...”

The stranger reached over, rubbing their warm knuckles against one of Mo Ran's icy cheeks. They clicked their tongue and withdrew, and before Mo Ran knew it, warmth settled over his shoulders. It was nothing compared to the heat that burst in his own chest. With a single whoosh, this stranger had taken off their own white fur cloak and covered Mo Ran with it.

Mo Ran found himself stuttering, and he started to cup his hands, bowing his hand. “T-thank -”

The stranger interrupted him. “You are a prince,” he chided, voice cold. “You bow to no one. Act like a prince, and you won’t be treated in such a way.”

The words were cruel. Mo Ran huddled in the fur cloak, shameful and meek. He closed his teary eyes, blinking away the tears, and opened his mouth to cry out that it didn’t matter how he acted, no one would respect him anyways -

The stranger set the lantern beside Mo Ran and turned to leave without another word.

Mo Ran felt like a dog that had just been petted and kicked by the same person. He remained crouched there, feeling both grateful and angry. Such biting words...and yet such a warm cloak.

He fell asleep there that night and only awakened at the delicious smell of food. A pale, slender hand pushed a bowl of soup and a plate of wontons towards him.

“Eat this,” the stranger said, kneeling down beside Mo Ran. With the lantern so close, Mo Ran could finally make out the features of his savior’s face.

They were beautiful and divine, an enchanting sight which Mo Ran would never forget. Though their words earlier had been cold, their actions were decidedly not. Mo Ran ate slowly, knowing if he did not then he would only throw up his meal. His eyes never left the stranger’s sharp face, so in awe of their beauty.

The stranger left without another word, and yet this small encounter would have a deep impression on Mo Ran. Even if he could not recall that face now, even if it were nothing more than a splendor of blurred regalness. He took the stranger's advice and started acting like a prince. He punished the servants who walked over him and attended his lessons even when his older brothers bullied him.

He rose to the sort of rank where he was respected, though he still faced ridicule from his father’s court. Mo Ran hoped it would be enough for him to see that stranger again. He believed he knew who the stranger was, and he wanted nothing more than to be worthy enough to stay by his side. Perhaps it was the beginning of a qianyuan’s possessiveness, but Mo Ran found himself obsessed.

So years later when the Yuheng Elder returned to the palace, Mo Ran appeared before him. With bright eyes, Mo Ran declared that he had chosen the cultivator as his shizun. Yuheng Elder taught the physician's assistant Shi Mei, the servant who had saved Mo Ran so long ago. It did not hurt that Yuheng Elder was brilliant and beautiful, though his charm was more similar to sharp ice than a soft petal. The court respected and feared Yuheng Elder; Mo Ran's standing would rise considerably if the man accepted him. Mo Ran had much to gain from having the lofty Chu Wanning as his teacher.

However, the immortal did not wish to take Mo Ran as a disciple. He declined and insisted that he did not intend to stay at court as a teacher to any of the princes. This was a mere visit. He had already agreed to teach Mo Ran's cousin Xue Meng, the general's son, and even took on the physician's assistant. Yuheng Elder didn't wish for involvement in any of the politics of court life. Or so he said. Mo Ran could tell that Chu Wanning looked down on him, that he saw Mo Ran as nothing more than a mutt.

But Mo Ran was persistent.

He appeared before the cultivator many times after that - in the library, the gardens, the stables. No matter where the Yuheng Elder went, the prince would find him.

Eventually, the Yuheng Elder relented. Mo Ran had no idea what it was that changed the immortal’s mind, but he gleefully accepted the Yuheng Elder’s decision.

Finally! Chu Wanning was his shizun. His. 

He stayed at court, teaching Mo Ran and his other two disciples. These years faded in Mo Ran’s memories. He remembered very little, but something at this time changed, growing in Mo Ran’s heart like a poisonous thorn.

Shi Mei was sent away for more training, while Xue Meng followed his father off to war. Was this then when Mo Ran’s feelings twisted into something else? He knew not his own emotions, but the more time he spent alone with his shizun, the more fervent his desire. Eventually, the prince could no longer deny himself.

Shizun sent Shi Mei away, off to a deserted countryside. So of course, Mo Ran would be angry. Of course, he would want to sink his teeth into Chu Wanning's flesh and teach him a lesson. He would chain his shizun to his side, in matrimony, in mating - whatever it took. It did not matter that the older man was a zhongyang. Mo Ran would leave a mark on him. His reasoning was a mess - missing pieces and rational flow - but the end result was that Chu Wanning would be his.

He reached out his hand to obtain him and yet -

He was denied.

His shizun with flushed cheeks and swollen lips that practically begged for more kisses, his cock clearly hard under Mo Ran’s knee...he still pushed Mo Ran away and brandished his claws.

Chu Wanning struck him across the face with a stinging slap. Mo Ran’s face turned to the other side, lip splitting. He turned back to look at his shizun in disbelief, but Chu Wanning was relentless.

"Don't you ever touch me," he hissed, eyes cold. He straightened his shoulders, lifting his chin so proudly, and at that moment Mo Ran wanted nothing more than to force his shizun to kneel so he could shut him up with a cock down his throat.

But he didn’t.

It took all he had not to, when every piece of him burned for the man, sizzling with desire.

“Shizun,” he croaked. For but a moment he felt something shatter in his heart. Cracked glass pierced his rotting flesh, and his lips trembled, eyes watery.

It was only for a moment.

He grew numb, eyes turning to flint as he stepped away from Chu Wanning, and he opened his mouth, lips curled in preparation for the venom he would spew - but Chu Wanning darted away before he could even speak, before he could even think to wrap a hand around his wrist and pull him back into his arms.

Coward, Mo Ran thought. His vision darkened around the corners, and the memories ended after that, spreading out into an endless sea of nothing.

He knew only that the Yuheng Elder left, so the emperor died.

And Mo Ran succeeded the throne.

Except he wasn’t Mo Ran. Not anymore.

Was this perhaps where the first split occurred?

Taxian-jun knew nothing but the flesh and blood of substitutes in the years that followed, his obsession dormant. The only world he knew was that of blood, carnage, and lust. He killed whoever he pleased. He fucked whoever he pleased. But most of all he was content.

Why wouldn’t he be? Taxian-jun was the emperor. He had no need for the past, for memories he no longer had, and so he actively sought to end what little reminders he found. Taxian-jun had lost who he was. There was no sense in trying to bring those memories back.

And yet -

Chu Wanning came back to him. The Yuheng Elder returned to the palace, and it was tantamount to presenting himself to the emperor.

Suddenly, Taxian-jun felt as he did so long ago, the fresh feeling of youth, that innocent feeling of lo -

Of lust. Of possession. A desire to own. To claim what was rightfully his.

And suddenly the world became the two of them - Mo Ran and Chu Wanning - as it should always be.

He had laughed when he discovered the slickness between his shizun’s thighs, because of course he was a kunze, of course?i?, it made so much sense.
A kunze and a qianyuan, a perfect match.

But it was not meant to be. Mo Ran had been replaced long ago, his heart bitter and cold. The emperor could not let Chu Wanning off lightly for his betrayal.

Taxian-jun snapped often and treated Chu Wanning harshly, delighting in his pain, in his sorrow. He fucked Chu Wanning through his heats and cooed in his ear that he was nothing more than a tight hole to fuck, a replacement for the disciple he had sent away all those years ago. He clipped his shizun’s wings and stole his cultivation. If Chu Wanning had no cultivation, how could he dare run away again?

The emperor liked to put his concubine in his place, to dangle affection in front of him and then take it away. He favored the other concubines to show Chu Wanning that his place at his side was precarious. Taxian-jun delighted in the expressions on his Chu-fei’s face, the twisting of his pale lips and blazing phoenix eyes. Because if Chu Wanning wept and clawed at his chest, then didn’t it mean the lofty immortal cared for him, if even a little bit?

Chu Wanning thought he was too good for the emperor, the ruler mandated by the heavens. He thought himself so above worldly desires and emotions, yet he softened in Taxian-jun’s arms so easily.

Taxian-jun found himself wanting more and more and more. He wanted to devour Chu Wanning, to tear into his heart and burrow his way inside. But Chu Wanning would not be moved in such a way.

He did not cajole the emperor, spreading his legs with come hither looks and appealing to him with underhanded tricks like the other concubines. Rong Jiu would seek him out in such ways, and Song Qiutong would make herself weak and malleable in his hands. His other two consorts refused to fight for his favor, too absorbed in their own affairs, but Taxian-jun had no desire for them, so he left them alone.

He only wanted Chu-fei to beg for him, to openly ask for his favor...if Chu Wanning could have only done that, then Taxian-jun would have granted him anything.

Chu Wanning would never do so, too thin-faced to ask for Taxian-jun’s favor.

But when he had finally made a meal for the emperor, when he had sat down with rosy cheeks and averted eyes, why had Taxian-jun been so angry? He did not know. He had no memory of it, other than the vague sense that Chu Wanning had insulted Shi Mei, insulted his savior’s memory. Had he not?

Taxian-jun would have thrown Chu Wanning away for nothing less.

Still, his actions seemed more irrational than usual, and he regretted them all too soon. Chu Wanning's hole was the sweetest of all his concubines, so tight and warm, trained so perfectly for his cock. Taxian-jun missed the smell of haitang blossoms that lingered on his skin, and he found himself passing by Red Lotus Pavilion for a simple whiff of his kunze's stale fragrance.

He hoped Chu Wanning would come crawling back, a test of sorts. If he heard the news of how Taxian-jun had moved on so easily and forgotten him, would he break? Would his Chu-fei finally search him out, would he beg for Taxian-jun to see and favor him alone?

Taxian-jun had expected too much of his shizun. Chu Wanning wore thin, worn robes and spent his days alone in his cold palace. He had little to eat and his servants treated him harshly with no respect. He passed his heats alone without his qianyuan.

Chu Wanning refused to ask for him.

Fine. Taxian-jun would be magnanimous. He would forgive his shizun and take him back under his protection. He missed the taste of Chu Wanning and longed to bury himself between his slick thighs once more. Red Lotus Pavilion had remained untouched, but he ordered for it to be cleaned and polished before he welcomed the kunze back into his proper rank.

Taxian-jun, this venerable one, was going to bow first. He would turn Chu Wanning’s head and give his neck the bite it rightfully deserved.

So why, just why did it all go wrong?

Why?
WHY?
W H Y
....

...

..

.

Chu Wanning d i e d.

.
..

...

....

Lost memories were nothing to Taxian-jun in the face of this suffering. Chunks of his past he cared nothing about. A gentle pain he no longer missed.

This pain had cracked open his chest and out flowed black blood, a haze of madness that turned him sick. A qianyuan without his kunze to quiet him turned feral.

The emperor had been a harsh ruler before, strict and unyielding in his laws, but with the sickening sweetness of grief on his tongue, he turned cruel. He slaughtered half of the palace staff overnight and condemned his own empress and concubines to death.

Without Chu Wanning, what did it matter? If he had no Chu Wanning, he had no need for a kingdom. He cared not for the common people, nor even the members of his court. All of them could only serve one purpose for him now.

He searched for a way to bring Chu Wanning back to him. But it didn’t matter. The answer was always the same.

Chu Wanning’s master was his last hope, but the old monk cursed him with a bloody smile as innards spilled from the slit in his belly. “In this lifetime, you will never see him again.”

The monk lost his head for that insult, but the doubt set in.

He could not even preserve Chu Wanning’s remains. What hope then did he have of bringing him back?

He hated Chu Wanning for leaving him, and he even hated their child for taking him away. If that ungrateful seed hadn’t taken root and caused Chu Wanning to hemorrhage…

Taxian-jun’s eyes turned red.

He was experiencing a qianyuan’s rage. Physicians came to him and advised him that his blood ran too thick and hot, that he needed to relieve himself in the carnal sense, but Taxian-jun refused. His harem had followed Chu Wanning to the grave, and he had no desire for anyone that was not his shizun.

Even when his ministers trembled in fear, whispering to each other that the qianyuan's rage had turned the emperor mad. They conspired to search for relatives of imperial blood they might support instead. They sent the emperor a kunze courtesan at night to keep the emperor's blood cooled for a hopeful momentary reprieve. After the third kunze was returned in the same matter as the previous two - sliced into ribbons and unrecognizable - the ministers quickly abandoned that idea. Their next movements involved raising one of their own to the seat of emperor, but Taxian-jun had squashed those bugs beneath foot before they could even begin to scurry.

If he had no need for a kingdom, what need did he have for ministers?

His general shouted at him and pleaded for Taxian-jun to return to himself, but Taxian-jun could not revert to a self he no longer knew.

General Xue begged on his knees, thumping his head on the palace floor until it bled. His proud peacock of a cousin groveling before him. Taxian-jun no longer felt smugness at the sight.

“When will it be enough?” Xue Meng yelled, voice hoarse from all of his shouting. “Mo Ran...our shizun has already died…”

With his reverse scale touched, Taxian-jun had no choice. He sent his general northwest to launch a campaign against the Turkic Khaganate with a mere handful of troops. In less than a year, the Khaganate's messenger returned a broken sword to Taxian-jun and thanked him on behalf of his khan for the kunze he had gifted them.

If he had no need for ministers, for concubines, for a kingdom...then he had no need for a general as well.

It was then that the spark of hope returned to him.

Shi Mei returned to the palace, veiled in a strange sense of wrongness. Remarkably enough, Taxian-jun's first instinct had been to wrap a thick hand around Shi Mei's slender neck, choking him. He knew not where the rage came from, what the hatred and disgust he felt were about, but it bled forth suddenly upon seeing his long-lost fellow disciple. The pretty kunze he'd thought he was enamored with. That he'd thought had saved him.

Liar, a voice within him screamed. His heart pulsed rapidly, straining against the ugly blackness that weighed him down, rooting him in place.

“Mo Ran,” Shi Mei uttered, gasping and pulling at his hand weakly. “Please, I can help.”

He was the first person to call him Mo Ran since General Xue had been sent away. It was the only reason that Taxian-jun released his grip. His hand fell to his side limply, and he stared at Shi Mei curiously as the zhongyang sputtered and coughed, filled with a sort of grotesque fascination.

Taxian-jun had the vague sense that Shi Mei had helped enough already, yet he allowed him to speak.

“I can help you bring him back,” Shi Mei promised, voice hoarse. “I know a way.”

Taxian-jun felt his chest rumble with the beginnings of a laugh. “You know a way?” he repeated, incredulous. “A way that this venerable one - who scoured the entire continent, who consulted immortals from far and wide - somehow did not find?”

Shi Mei lowered his head. “It is a rather unique method, one that requires a great sacrifice. I only fear that...it may be too much for you to pay.”

Something tugged on his heart, claws sinking in. No, he shouldn’t trust Shi Mei. He was aware of this fact at least.

Yet who else could he turn to? His ministers and advisers had all failed him. Every suggestion and method he tried did not work. If Shi Mei swore he had some way of bringing Chu Wanning back, then shouldn't Taxian-jun had least hear him out.

The emperor waved his hand, a cruel smile spreading across his lips, his eyes startlingly red. Shi Mei shivered and averted his eyes, but unbeknownst to Taxian-jun, a smirk of his own grew at the emperor's next words.

“Go on. I’m listening.”

A massacre. A slaughter. It was the sort of ritual that required an ungodly amount of blood and flesh, staining Taxian-jun’s hands with thousands of lives. But there was no sacrifice too great.

Even if it cost him the rest of the world. He slaughtered and razed the entire continent, spilling more and more blood until he finally ran out of flesh to sacrifice.

He ignored the voice inside his head which sounded suspiciously like General Xue, telling him that Chu Wanning would hate to be brought back at the expense of so many lives. It didn’t matter what Chu Wanning thought. Taxian-jun would pay any price. Even if his beloved kunze hated him all the more for it.

So he did as Shi Mei commanded, acting as a trained hunting dog and killing according to his master’s orders. Taxian-jun no longer relished in the scent of copper, the sticky feeling of warm blood on his hands. All he felt was a dull ache, a desire to hold Chu Wanning in his arms once more.

That was the whole purpose of it.

But why didn’t it work?

Shi Mei did not understand it either. He sat in front of his neatly drawn array, face pale and eyes bulging in horror, hands raking at the dirt before him anxiously. “No, no, no, why isn’t it working? Why isn’t it working?”

The anger had left Taxian-jun, and he felt numb to Shi Mei's failure. If anything, his stomach twisted in revulsion at the sight of the creature before him.

“You never meant to bring Shizun back,” the emperor cocked his head to the side. “So why are you acting so distressed?”

Shi Mei stilled and sent a glare. “You need to kill more people. Bring me more of them! It will only work then, I promise!”

Taxian-jun had run out of patience, but more than that - he had run out of hope. He had exhausted all efforts and what had it gotten him?

Nothing but annoyance.

He stepped over to Shi Mei and wrapped a hand around his neck once more. “You were once so beautiful that you reminded me of him - when did you become so ugly?”

“You’ve muddled this venerable one’s mind for far too long.” He broke Shi Mei’s neck.

And with that, Taxian-jun was truly alone.

He had killed Chu Wanning with his neglect. He had sent Xue Meng to a fate worse than death. He had killed Shi Mei with his own hands.

The palace was empty now, save for Eunuch Fu. Taxian-jun was the emperor of rot and ruin, sitting on a throne of corpses.

The poison tasted all too sweet on his tongue, and he fell back into a grave of his own making, staring up at the night sky.

If I could only see your face, Taxian-jun mused. As you were before I ruined you.

Perhaps in death, he would be granted his wish.

Taxian-jun came to himself gradually. Pieces returned, one after the other, slotting into place like the broken shards of a vase plastered back together.

The memories played out before him. Scenes of the past which had always been so blurry were now clear.

A younger Chu Wanning crouched beside Mo Ran and covered him in his own cloak, returning with a plate of wontons to feed him.

He stood before the large tree in the gardens and cupped several earthworms in his hands. Chu Wanning gazed down at him, something tender and rare in his expression.

Mo Ran offered his heart up in place of Shizun’s and let a great evil take root.

He saw everything.

He knew.

And yet the memories continued to play. Unfamiliar scenes of a different lifetime, a different timeline.

Chu Wanning clutched a black flower within his hand, crushing it as he said, “Mo Ran, it was I...who wronged you.”

His concubine spurned his affections, though he sent him such heated glances and eventually revealed his true nature to the emperor.

Mo Ran had not even needed to pry his legs open this time to discover the most delicate part of him. Chu Wanning willingly spread them on his own.

Yet why, why, why did Chu Wanning refuse to bear his child? He drank that awful, foul-smelling tea in the hopes of expelling his seed. Mo Ran had wanted nothing more than to see his Chu-fei’s stomach swell, to see his rosebud tits grow swollen and leak, coating his haitang blossoms with the scent of milk.

Chu Wanning did not want that? Even though he had always locked his legs around Mo Ran’s waist, hooking him in and pleading for him to come inside every night?

Was this Chu Wanning just as disgusted by Mo Ran as his own? Or could it be that -

Ah.

This Chu Wanning was his Chu Wanning, who had learned from the past and did not seek to repeat it.

And how could Taxian-jun have forgotten such an ending?

Taxian-jun thought of his last image of Chu Wanning, a still corpse that had begun to bloat, the acrid smell of decay replacing his signature scent, and the thing that had killed him.

The curse twisted between his legs. A tiny little babe, not yet fully formed with a tuft of dark hair atop its grey head. Taxian-jun had touched it with the back of his knuckles, in awe and horror. 

Such a little thing had killed Chu Wanning.

Unacceptable.

He understood it now. If all it took was a child to kill Chu Wanning, then of course he would do whatever he could to stop that child from forming.

Upon this revelation, the memories ended in his last confrontation with Chu Wanning.

His voice rang through Taxian-jun's mind, loud and clear.

“I think it would be miserable to be the son of an unloved consort!”

“You think that I would treat you in such a way? That I would treat our child in that way?” Taxian-jun heard himself argue back.

“I don’t think. I know.” 

And that was it. The final nail in his coffin.

Ah, Chu Wanning. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I never meant for you to die.

Taxian-jun’s intentions did not matter, only the results of his actions did, and it was that which killed Chu Wanning.

He felt a great pain within, as if he were cutting his heart open for Shi Mei to plant a seed all over again, and then -

Nothing.

It was as though he’d simply gone to sleep, then awoke the next morning.

“Your Majesty,” a soft, feminine voice gasped.

Taxian-jun opened his eyes, already annoyed. He sat up in bed quickly and barely spared his empress a second look. Instead, he looked around for Chu Wanning, who of course was not there.

It was his long-dead, hateful empress who welcomed him back to the land of the living. Of course. Perhaps he was in the underworld instead.

Song Qiutong played the part of the dutiful wife all too well. No doubt she had stayed by his bedside for however long he was ill. Taxian-jun wanted to scoff. He knew it was all an act.

She fawned over him, appearing relieved that he was no longer unconscious, though he could spot the red crescents on her palm from where her nails dug into her skin. Perhaps Empress Song had already commissioned a white mourning gown. A pity she would not get to wear it. 

He jerked away from her grasp when she tried to touch his arm and shot her a warning look.

“Where is Chu Wanning?” he asked.

Empress Song froze, her smile tight. “Your Majesty...Chu Wanning was to blame for your illness. He’s being held in the cells for interrogation. We had to see if he had acted alone.”

Taxian-jun’s eyes narrowed. He reached over and grabbed a hold of her chin, relishing as she winced in pain. “Oh, did you now? And just who told you that was a wise choice? Minister Nangong? I would advise you to stop listening to the words of such a sniveling coward if you want to keep your head.”

He tossed her aside, and she fell to the floor unceremoniously, whimpering pathetically to arouse his sympathies. The emperor put on his robes, afraid to waste any more time if he chose to summon servants for such a simple task.

Taxian-jun strode to the door but glanced behind him before he left. "I know of the child in Nangong-fei's belly. The one you plan to claim as your own."

Song Qiutong paled. “Your Majesty!”

Gone was the dignity of the empress, torn away by a few meager words. Song Qiutong scrambled forward on her knees, seeking to pull at the bottom of his robes as she sputtered out pleas for mercy. “Minister Nangong was angry with him. He held so many threats over his head if he did not conceive. Please, please! Punish me if you must, but don’t harm Nangong Si!”

It had been a plot he’d uncovered in his last life. Minister Nangong had hoped his kunze son might conceive and produce an heir to the throne, then he would get rid of Taxian-jun and instill himself as regent. There was only one problem: Taxian-jun would not sleep with Nangong Si. So then, how did one create an heir with the blood of the Nangong family?

Ye Wangxi, the qianyuan who had followed Nangong Si to the palace as part of his dowry and eventually rose to rank of consort as well, had sired the child in Nangong Si’s belly. Song Qiutong, who was abnormally close with Ye Wangxi and Nangong Si, would pass the child off as her own, seeing as she was regularly allowed nights with the emperor.

Taxian-jun was under no illusion of how the child came to be. It was not a sacrifice on either party’s behalf. Ye-fei had kept Nangong-fei company since the very beginning of their time here at the palace, and Taxian-jun turned a blind eye.

He would have quietly allowed them to leave the palace, alive and intact with their child, and yet someone had forced his hand. Rong Jiu had discovered the affair and exposed it publicly.

Taxian-jun could not allow himself to be made a fool. Ye Wangxi took her punishment with dignity and grace, unflinching as Taxian-jun’s sword swept across her neck. She claimed to have forced Nangong-fei. In doing so she spared his life and the life of their child, though it was not long after Nangong Si left the palace that he had met his own end as well - a supposed honor killing by his own father, Minister Nangong.

Taxian-jun stared at his empress, her face stricken with grief. Such strong emotion...never before had she displayed true, deep feelings for him. Why had he married her again, making her the mother of his nation?

Because he could not have Chu Wanning.

But not anymore. Chu Wanning had come back to him. His shizun had reached inside of his heart and plucked out the rotting flower which had taken root. Chu Wanning stayed. He opened up, again and again, flashing his fangs and claws, disgruntled and jealous and full of yearning. Taxian-jun could see it now.

He had no need for any others, not even for igniting jealousy within Chu Wanning. Chu Wanning had chosen him. That’s all that mattered.

Taxian-jun pulled his robes away from Empress Song - soon to be simply Song Qiutong - and frowned. “Stop groveling. I spoke of it only to warn you. Your place...all of your places here will change. Rejoice.”

Without waiting to see her reaction to his words, he left. The only thing in his mind, the only person he could think of was -

Chu Wanning. Shizun. His mate.

He felt his fangs start to distend, aching to sink into Chu Wanning’s neck and press a permanent mark to his skin, yet he forced them back. Taxian-jun had to take things slowly, to approach Chu Wanning with a cautious sort of gentleness in fear that his skittish kunze would lash out or run away.

Their last encounter had not been a pleasant one, and if Chu Wanning was kept in a cell as Song Qiutong had said - no doubt he felt wronged by Taxian-jun yet again.

He quieted the guards’ protests with a simple glare upon his arrival, and he pushed them aside as he hurried forward.

“Chu Wanning,” he called, voice strained and filled with a lifetime of heartbreak.

And there he was.

Taxian-jun ached at the very sight of him, his battered heart swelling. Dressed in his white robes, his long, silky black hair mussed and tangled as he rose from his cot with a very disgruntled expression. Chu Wanning froze upon seeing Taxian-jun, phoenix eyes widening.

“Your Majesty.” Distaste in his voice.

Mo Ran, Taxian-jun thought. Call me as you used to.

Taxian-jun wrapped his hands around the wooden bars that stood between them.

“Chu Wanning,” he repeated, mouth suddenly dry.

Taxian-jun knew not what to say. He shook the wooden bars angrily and turned to bark at a guard, ordering them to unlock the door.

The guard hastily obeyed, but perhaps Taxian-jun's tone had been too harsh. By the time he was inside the cell, Chu Wanning had drawn within himself, curled into a ball at the corner of his cot.

“I didn’t poison you, Mo Ran.” Chu Wanning’s shoulders trembled. He held his face in his hands. “No matter what she told you, I would never - I would rather die than to --”

Taxian-jun knelt before him, slowly prying his hands away from his face. Chu Wanning’s reddened eyes glistened with tears, his face flushed and twisted into a grievous expression.

“Hush now.” Taxian-jun pressed a kiss to the back of each hand. He never looked away from Chu Wanning’s teary gaze. “I know. My shizun would never hurt me.”

This did not produce the intended effect. Chu Wanning only cried harder, turning his face away as he tried to pull himself from Taxian-jun’s grasp. Taxian-jun would not allow it. He could not.

Chu Wanning was his, healthy and whole.

Taxian-jun would never let him go again.

He leaned forward and pressed kisses to the corners of Chu Wanning’s eyes, licking away his tears. “Don’t cry. Not like this,” he murmured.

The only time he would wish for such a sight would be if the older man was writhing in his bed or choking on his cock.

His forehead touched Chu Wanning’s own, and he stayed there, kneeling before him with their hands intertwined, until finally Chu Wanning calmed, shoulders shuddering one last time as he sniffled.

“No one would tell me,” Chu Wanning said, voice stiff. “I had no idea how you were. I watched you spit out blood and yet I didn’t even know if you recovered or not.”

Taxian-jun embraced him, pushing Chu Wanning’s face into his neck so that he could scent him properly. Chu Wanning obeyed, taking long, deep inhales of his qianyuan’s scent. Taxian-jun scented him back, though his reaction was far less discreet than he would have liked. His cock hardened immediately at the haitang blossoms smell he so dearly missed.

He itched to press his hips forward and grind against Chu Wanning. It had been so long...a lifetime for him. If he could just press inside his tight heat and -

He stopped that train of thought. He should apologize properly before he sought release.

Taxian-jun dared to swipe his tongue across Chu Wanning’s scent gland anyways, delighting in the shudder and heavy scent of arousal it elicited.

“Chu Wanning. I’m here. I’m never leaving you again. ”

He fumbled with his words, unsure of how to properly convey all that needed to be said. “I won’t allow anyone to come between us. Not Song Qiutong or Rong Jiu or Minister Nangong or Shi Mei. Nobody. Not a single soul.”

He couldn’t help but bare his teeth. “I’ll tear out their throats myself if they try.”

“What are you trying to say?” Chu Wanning looked alarmed, even though Taxian-jun could smell the slick dripping down his thighs.

Taxian-jun ran his hands down to settle on Chu Wanning’s hips, pinching and massaging the bony flesh. He would have to fatten Chu Wanning up with sweets. The days he’d spent in this cell did him no favors.

Taxian-jun frowned, leaning forward to hide his own flushed face this time. "I want it to be us. Me and you. As it always should have been," he murmured into Chu Wanning's ear.

“Chu Wanning,” he turned his head to the side, baring his neck.

“Bite me.”

Chu Wanning stilled, looking up at him anxiously. “You can’t mean that,” his lips trembled. “You can’t...Why would you?”

A bite from a kunze would dull a qianyuan to all other scents. A qianyuan could only conceive children with that kunze, and they would be bound for life. Emperors did not bind themselves to only one mate. Allowing themselves to be bitten by a sole kunze would lower their chances of conceiving an heir. It simply was not done.

Taxian-jun did not care about heirs or any of the others in his harem.

Now he just had to convince Chu Wanning of that fact.

"I have not treated you fairly in the past," Taxian-jun admitted, brow furrowed. "But I wish to make up for it if you would let me. I want it to be yours and yours alone."

Chu Wanning stared at him, expressionless. Taxian-jun’s heart beat fast in his chest, and he became nervous. Surely he could not have been wrong in assuming…?

“You have treated me more than fair,” Chu Wanning said, though he sounded unsure. “Better even than I could have hoped. It is I who - “

“No,” Taxian-jun interrupted. He let go of Chu Wanning, pulling at his own hair in frustration. “No! You’re wrong. I…”

This life had been different from the last because he lacked a rotten flower tangled around his heart. It was not this life that Taxian-jun was referring to. And yet...he did not know how to tell Chu Wanning. Would he be angry to learn that his kinder Taxian-jun had been replaced by the cruel one of his past? Would he refuse him if he knew?

Taxian-jun leaned back and looked at Chu Wanning hopelessly. He played with the frayed edges of his kunze’s sleeve.

“I wronged you, Wanning. I should not have treated you so cruelly. I mourned you for so long, and I did everything I could to bring you back.”

He felt as though he were the unfavored concubine, on his knees before his lover as he begged for forgiveness, tugging on his robes. Ha!

Taxian-jun looked away, afraid to face rejection, to feel the shame of a qianyuan whose kunze refused to bite. He had not felt such fear since he heard that Chu Wanning had died. Would Chu Wanning scoff? Would he kick him away and curse, scolding him for bowing and acting very unlike an emperor?

Chu Wanning did none of those things. Instead, he reached out to cup Taxian-jun's face in his hands, turning it up so he could meet his searching gaze. "Mo Ran...how do you know such things? How do you…?"

He appeared in disbelief.

“I died. Just like Wanning. And then I woke up and I remembered. No, I should say that I saw.”

Taxian-jun did not say what he suspected: that some ritual he performed worked in a way he had not intended, bringing them both to this second chance. He continued on. “I can understand...if Shizun wants to leave the palace, if he wants to leave this venerable one, but...it is my hope that he will stay.”

Perhaps it was manipulative, but he had always been a selfish person, even without a flower to make him worse.

He waited patiently for Chu Wanning to say something, anything, but the older man simply stared at him, face hidden behind an emotionless mask.

Such words...Chu Wanning had never expected them to come out of Taxian-jun’s mouth.

His arrival to the cell had been shocking enough, and Chu Wanning had expected anger from the emperor. He had expected the qianyuan to punish him, swayed by Empress Song’s words and believing he had a hand in his injury. Perhaps Taxian-jun would sweep in and tie him up, push his face down into the cold straw as he fucked him for all the guards to hear, calling Chu Wanning worthless, a whore, a no-good traitor, as he raked his nails along his sides. It was the sort of punishment familiar to Chu Wanning.

Chu Wanning had not expected this. Never this. This tenderness made him lose all reason. When Taxian-jun asked for his bite, Chu Wanning felt his teeth ache, and for a split second, he considered following through with it.

But he couldn’t.

How could the emperor entertain the other members of his harem with a lowly kunze’s mark on his neck?

And yet now...Chu Wanning stared at him, expressionless. He did not react simply because he could not. He processed Taxian-jun’s words carefully, analyzing each and every single one, and yet none of it made sense.

What did he mean? What did he mean by that?

Taxian-jun - Mo Ran - had died? And come back?

Then he must know about everything. Chu Wanning felt as though he might be sick. "You must think I am a fool," he said, expression stiff. "To have been thrown away and yet come crawling back. I'm sure you had a good laugh at my expense."

Mo Ran shook his head furiously. "No, no! Never that! Are you listening? I'm a fool. I bullied you, hurt you. I made you think you weren't good enough - but Wanning, it was always you. I know I'm too audacious but... I, I love you."

Chu Wanning's face grew hot. Mo Ran held his hand in his own once more, grip gentle and timid, as if he were afraid Chu Wanning would run away from his touch. How silly. Chu Wanning had nowhere to run to. His home had always been Mo Ran.

“I am not a good kunze. I’m old. And I’m rather ugly. I’m not...not the sort of kunze anyone would want to bond with.”

He could not meet Mo Ran’s gaze nor could he pull his hand away.

“You are the most beautiful person I have ever met.”

Ahhhh.

How embarrassing.

Chu Wanning couldn't believe it.

“Wanning.”

He felt Mo Ran lean close, close enough he could feel his body warmth hovering above him, his gaze hot on his face.

“Your reply?”

Chu Wanning remained silent. He was far too thin-faced. How could he say such a thing? But in the end, it didn’t seem to matter. Mo Ran knew his heart. The emperor gave a low chuckle and pressed a kiss to the top of Chu Wanning’s head.

“Come on. Let’s get you out of here.” Mo Ran rubbed one hand along Chu Wanning’s arm, sending shivers up his spine. “Look at you. You’re freezing.”

Chu Wanning swallowed his retort, eyes never once leaving Mo Ran’s tall, strong back as he led him away from the cell and back up to the palace.

Never letting go of his hand.

Mo Ran’s kindness unnerved him slightly.

His every action felt far too out of character, too sweet and strange. It ached to look at him. Chu Wanning felt a little ashamed. This Mo Ran knew how he had failed him, allowing the flower to grow in his heart without notice, and yet he never blamed Chu Wanning for the damage his mistake caused. Perhaps Mo Ran himself felt as much to blame.

Whatever the case, Chu Wanning had never been treated so nicely by anyone. No one had ever liked him before. Mo Ran's actions in the past had been based on a lustful desire, twisted by the flower, and so Chu Wanning was not used to this almost stranger who took every opportunity to hold his hand and press kisses to his cheeks.

The most striking thing of all was that Mo Ran quickly dismissed the rest of his harem. He took down Empress Song and Rong Jiu in one fell swoop, removing their titles and sending back their dowries before the servants forced them out of the palace. The others followed soon after. Some went back to their families - if they would take them - while others shaved their heads and became Buddhist nuns.

The only concubine that remained was Chu Wanning.

Mo Ran wished to grant him the title of empress, but Chu Wanning refused vehemently, glaring every time Mo Ran teased or suggested it. He did not wish for that place, did not covet the seat that was once Song Qiutong's. Chu Wanning felt content to only ever reach his rank as it was in his past life - Chu-fei, the Worthy Consort. He could not dare aspire above that.

The emperor had turned rather glum upon his refusal, but he gave in eventually. He granted him the title of fei and had Red Lotus Pavilion opened. Things were just as they had been, yet...

Yet so very different.

At first, Mo Ran had been timid. He slept in Chu Wanning's bed every night but refused to touch him more than a simple hug, even when Chu Wanning could smell the musky scent of his arousal in the air. He claimed he was afraid he might hurt Chu Wanning, that he could not control himself if he tasted him even once. If Mo Ran had a problem in the early hours of the morning, he left to take care of it.

“If I fuck you, I’ll bite you,” Mo Ran promised with a flash of teeth. “Trust me, Waning. You don’t want that, remember?”

Chu Wanning cursed himself for saying they should wait a while before bonding. He hadn’t known it would have led to this. Chu Wanning glowered at Mo Ran, huffing as he turned over and showed his back.

He supposed it was nice of Mo Ran to act this way, to show that he cared more for Chu Wanning than his body - especially considering their shared past fraught with desire and pain.

But Chu Wanning quickly became fed up.

He wanted Mo Ran’s hands on him, pulling his hair and forcing his cock inside wherever he wanted. Chu Wanning licked his lips. Such desires could never be said aloud. They played out only in Chu Wanning’s dreams at night or as a passing daydream as he felt Mo Ran’s arms wrap around him, musing how big and strong they were, so helpful in holding him down.

A month later, he snapped.

“You don’t need to worry about biting me without my consent. You seem to have more willpower than you think,” he looked Mo Ran up and down, giving him the stink eye. “So if that’s what you’re worried about, then don’t be.”

The emperor fumbled with his drink, spilling it over his robes. He seemed taken aback by Chu Wanning’s words. Fair enough. The subject had been Xue Meng and the disaster that was his latest engagement - certainly not their bedroom activities, or lack thereof.

"Ah, Wanning," Mo Ran shooed away the servants with a glare, but not before he grabbed a towel from one to pat himself dry. "So suddenly...in the middle of the day…"

He seemed at a loss for words. Chu Wanning merely sat there, arms crossed and disgruntled.

At last Mo Ran regained his composure, eyes darkening. "I didn't know you were so bold. Do you need it that badly?"

Chu Wanning forced himself to remain stone-faced, even though he felt heat grow in his belly, discreetly rubbing his thighs against each other to create some much-needed friction. How wanton and shameless, he chided himself. But it was not his fault. Mo Ran left him no choice!

Mo Ran covered Chu Wanning’s thigh with a hand, squeezing harshly. “Stop.”

Oh. Perhaps he wasn’t as discreet as he had thought. Chu Wanning stilled, breathless.

His hand slid over and rubbed at the hardness that strained against Chu Wanning’s robes, eliciting a gasp. “I’ll give you what you need.”

It was there, outside for anyone walking by to see, that the emperor knelt before Chu Wanning and spread his legs, pushing up his robes to taste him. Chu Wanning's hands fisted in Mo Ran's hair, knocking aside his crown. He threw his head back, moaning as Mo Ran licked inside of him, tasting him for the first time in so long.

Mo Ran soon replaced his tongue with his fingers, leaning up to kiss Chu Wanning. Chu Wanning would never get used to the taste of himself on Mo Ran’s lips. So strange, yet he grew wetter. He disrobed with Mo Ran’s help, not a thought for where they were.

“So greedy,” Mo Ran chided, licking his lips. He set Chu Wanning on the table and pressed two fingers inside easily. “I think you would take my whole fist if I let you.”

Chu Wanning whimpered, arm covering his face in embarrassment. I practically do, he thought. Every time I take your knot.

He did not dare say it. Mo Ran did not need the ego boost.

Mo Ran pumped his fingers fast and hard, making embarrassing slapping sounds. Chu Wanning felt too wet. His slick practically gushed down his thighs, coming down even more as he clenched. He needed more.

“Please, Mo Ran,” he whined and raised his hips, chasing Mo Ran’s fingers as they withdrew.

His qianyuan liked to make him beg. It seemed to be his favorite pastime. In their last life, Taxian-jun had rubbed an aphrodisiac on Chu Wanning, leaving him tied up alone for hours with a jade plug inside, hoping it might make Chu Wanning more docile. Thankfully Mo Ran had no such patience now. Instead, he pushed his cock inside.

Chu Wanning felt his eyes roll to the back of his head. It was too tight, too big. That delicious stretch brought pain and pleasure. A fuzzy, white-hot feeling of bliss.

Ah, I could sit on it all day. Chu Wanning wrapped his arms around Mo Ran, nuzzling into his shoulders as he sought his scent. He thought about keeping that plug inside all the time, keeping him open and ready for Mo Ran whenever he wanted. Chu Wanning could be a good kunze if he did, always available for his qianyuan’s pleasure.

Mo Ran fucked him deep and slow, his pace near torture. Chu Wanning had to resort to wrapping his legs around his waist, spurring him on.

“Faster,” he begged, nipping at his lips.

Mo Ran obeyed, all too pleased to follow Chu Wanning’s command. He muttered his usual filth, tugging at Chu Wanning’s nipples and spitting in his mouth.

“Such a pretty whore,” Mo Ran yanked on his hair. Chu Wanning moaned, eyes tearing up.

“Yours,” he protested, pawing at Mo Ran’s chest. “I’m only yours.”

Mo Ran’s eyes turned fond. He rewarded him with bites to his chest, abusing the pink, swollen buds once more. “Of course,” he agreed. “You’re all mine.”

Mine, mine, mine, Chu Wanning thought, something proud rumbling in his throat.

He went crazy with Mo Ran's knot. Feeling that warm rush inside was too much. He felt so full, overflowing with love. He begged and whined shameless things, reaching his neck up and straining his head as he left hickeys on Mo Ran's neck. Chu Wanning couldn't even blame it on pheromones. He was in full control of what he was doing as he looked up at Mo Ran with teary eyes, lips trembling.

“Please.”

He clenched, squeezing Mo Ran’s knot as his teeth grazed the qianyuan’s neck. Chu Wanning wanted so very badly to claim this man as his own.

Mo Ran groaned and put his hand on the back of Chu Wanning’s head, pushing him forward. It was all the permission he needed.

He dug in, teeth branding Mo Ran forever with his mark. It was a bloody, messy thing. Chu Wanning hated the taste of copper that filled his mouth, though he persisted. His jaw locked tight. Only death could tear him away from Mo Ran now.

Once the brand had set, Mo Ran coaxed him into letting go, calling him beautiful and precious and lovely.
Chu Wanning swallowed the blood dutifully, grimacing at the bitter taste. Mo Ran wiped the red from his lips and pressed kisses to his face, licking away the few smeared stains that remained.

He pulled Chu Wanning up, sitting him in his lap, cock still inside. “How lucky I am,” he murmured. “That you would choose me.”

Chu Wanning felt rather shy suddenly. He gazed at the mark he’d left behind, appraising his work. Mo Ran had allowed him this selfishness; it was only right that Chu Wanning return the favor. He tilted his head to the side, baring his neck.

Mo Ran sharply inhaled. “Are you sure?”

His hand trembled as he brushed Chu Wanning’s scent gland.

Chu Wanning swallowed the lump in his throat. “Always, Mo Ran. I will always choose you. So choose me.”

Mo Ran chuckled, but it sounded off. Like he was in disbelief. “As if I could refuse you anything.”

He returned the bite. If possible, it was messier than the last. Mo Ran gleefully bit down and lapped at the blood, just like a dog who’d been given a bone to gnaw on. The sight of it was endearing.

With that, they were bonded.

Mo Ran and Chu Wanning. As it always should be.

The next morning Luo Xianxian offered him that same tea as if nothing was amiss. When Chu Wanning gave her a questioning look, she smiled.

“His Majesty the Emperor allowed it. He wishes for Chu-fei’s comfort above all else.”

Chu Wanning felt something unfurl in his chest, that familiar flush of love beating strong in his heart. How sweet. Though it had been something they’d fought over, though it had made his husband furious, he would still allow it.

For Chu Wanning’s comfort.

For his safety.

Chu Wanning stared at the steaming cup of tea, swirling it slightly in his hand.

He had been afraid for so long. He hadn’t wanted to bring another life into this world - not when he was unsure of Mo Ran’s feelings, of his favor. The fate of his last life burned into his mind, of what would happen if he were to be cast aside by Mo Ran.

And yet now -

He stood up, leaning over the edge of the steps and with a wave of his hand -

Chu Wanning watered the rose bushes.

He felt grateful for this second chance more than ever, this catharsis that had changed his relationship with Mo Ran into something hopeful. Chu Wanning pressed a hand to his stomach.

Perhaps with time, he and Mo Ran could hold that child in their arms.

If it was meant to be, it would be.

Chu Wanning would no longer try to fight his fate. He would welcome it, this time trusting that Mo Ran - Taxian-jun, his husband, his qianyuan - would be by his side.