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His teacher's first excuse was that it hurt too much and wasn't healthy for a boy of Mo Ran's age who was still developing his spiritual core.
Mo Ran remembered the beatings he had endured at the Drunken Jade House, the hunger he had experienced on the streets of Linyi and the pain of seeing his mother's disfigured corpse.
"Pain is not a problem, Shizun," he replied.
His teacher's second excuse was that it was a very big secret, and it would be best to erase his memory of it because he must not reveal it to anyone under any circumstances.
Mo Ran remembered his hand breaking the air and the machete slicing through heads, legs and arms. He remembered the fire, and the overwhelming sadness when he realized that hell was all that awaited him.
"We all have secrets, Shizun," he replied.
His teacher's third excuse was that he was not a patient person, and his hunger came and went, so there would be no set times for when it would happen. He would call him early in the morning or late at night, and he would have to obey immediately.
Mo Ran knelt before him and kowtowed as he had done weeks ago when Chu Wanning had accepted him as a disciple.
What a peculiar master he had! Hadn't he already promised absolute obedience? Wasn't his master already impatient and capricious? Why did he also have to be so fastidious?
"You can call me even if I'm on my way to the underworld, Shizun. I'll go wherever you are.
His teacher swept his sleeve and snorted in indignation at his disciple's insistence, but could think of no reason to prevent him from fulfilling his foolish request.
"Then you will endure the pain, you will keep quiet, and you will heed my call, understood?"
Mo Ran smiled, unaware of the gravity of the task, happy just to be able to help the god-like man who had chosen him, even though he was so small and insignificant.
Chu Wanning called Mo Ran after midnight, at a time when nothing moved on Sisheng Peak except for the silent glow of the stars in the sky. Mo Ran, who hadn't had time to tie his hair back, ran barefoot to the Red Lotus Pavilion with a haitang blossom in his hand, as if he were carrying a wounded bird.
Once inside, everything happened very quickly. Mo Ran felt icy hands grip his neck, and the whole world shifted on its axis. For a moment, he wasn't sure whether it was real or a continuation of his dream. Gradually, however, he began to regain his bearings: the pieces of metal that would make up the new Holy Guardian, the smell of wet earth and the unmistakable sound of someone sucking near his ear. He was lying on the floor beneath his teacher, who had just sunk his fangs into his jugular.
He was so shocked that he couldn't even scream.
Usually, Chu Wanning would sit him at the dining table, clean his neck with a damp cloth, ask him to close his eyes, and then drink his fill, touching him no more than necessary and saying nothing out of place. Then, as Mo Ran tried to focus his gaze, feeling dizzy from blood loss, he felt a warm finger smearing ointment on the wound to close it and regenerate his skin. When Mo Ran left the Red Lotus Pavilion, there was nothing to indicate what had just happened.
Perhaps only the fact that Chu Wanning appeared behind him, his cheeks flushed and his lips slightly red, gave anything away. However, that night, Chu Wanning had not taken the usual trouble.
When he saw his disciple enter his room, he simply raised his hands and motioned for him to sit on the floor amid the mess that he always tried to clean up but never managed to keep tidy. Only a candle lit the room and Mo Ran couldn't tell whether it was the shadows flickering or if his teacher's hands were trembling as he grabbed him by the neck and buried his thin, pale face in the curve of his neck.
"Shizun," he sighed, too afraid to swallow in case he frightened Chu Wanning. "Wouldn't you be more comfortable at the table?"
"Shut up," his teacher replied, rising an inch and speaking directly into his skin. "Say one more word and I'll throw you out of here."
"Fuck," thought Mo Ran, and if he could have said it out loud, he would have.
The truth was that whenever Chu Wanning bit him, Mo Ran felt such excruciating pain that he always wondered why he was doing it during the second that the agony lasted. However, a couple of seconds later, the pain would turn into an otherworldly calm and his mind would fill with a drowsiness that could almost be described as blissful. Over the weeks, Mo Ran had come to interpret this as pleasurable.
He felt Chu Wanning's fingers sink into the back of his neck, combing his hair to one side and leaving access to the part of his disciple's body that had become his food. Mo Ran felt himself tremble, clenching his fists in the thin fabric of his trousers as he tried to recite in his mind the poem his master had taught him:
Something about a haitang tree and the spring air. How did it go? Damn it, he couldn't recall a thing.
Chu Wanning—Elder Yuheng, the Immortal Beidou—was between his legs, gathering his hair and drinking the warm, fresh blood flowing from his veins with his tongue. That alone was enough to drive anyone mad.
Mo Ran was no more special than the other disciples of Sisheng Peak, so it was absolutely maddening for him. If he hadn't let himself be overcome by madness, it was only because his Shizun would surely whip him back to sanity. He could feel Chu Wanning's lips and the sharpness of his fangs. He could feel the tickle of Chu Wanning's breath every time he took a sip of his blood and the way it caused his entire body to transform into a quivering mess.
Mo Ran had no choice but to cover his mouth with his hand to stop himself from making a sound he would regret.
Meanwhile, his master tangled Mo Ran's hair in his hand and pulled his head back slightly, leaving his disciple's neck completely exposed, taut as a bowstring. A normal person, fearful for their life, would never allow another man to manipulate them in such a way, leaving them completely defenseless.
But Mo Ran was not a normal person, he supposed, because even though he had seen Chu Wanning's fangs cut through metal several times when he bit off pieces of his holy guardians, he had chosen to be a snack for his Shizun. Between his own life and Chu Wanning's hunger, the decision was obvious—he couldn't imagine refusing his Shizun's eager mouth.
Usually, the two were lucid and capable of behaving appropriately, carrying out the act as though they were drinking tea or transcribing a poem. However, his teacher had not eaten for almost a week. He had had to repair the barrier to the ghost realm in a village near Sisheng Peak, after which he locked himself in the Red Lotus Pavilion and rushed to build a Holy Guardian of the Night to send to that village.
Mo Ran had learnt the hard way not to ask his master if he wanted to eat after he had summoned Tianwen, leaving his back in tatters and warning him that if he ever asked such a thing in public again, he would skin him alive.
Put simply, Mo Ran hadn't offered to feed him and Chu Wanning, absorbed in his responsibilities as defender of mortals, hadn't thought about eating. Now, the two were living with the consequences: a young man was lying on the ground, gasping for air without knowing what to do with his hands, while a man was on top of him, desperately sucking his blood without a trace of his characteristic composure.
“Were you hungry, Shizun?” Mo Ran asked anyway, because if he didn't speak, something else would come out of his mouth.
“Mn.”
"You should have called me, Shizun. There was no need to wait so long.” He tried to sound conversational, even though Chu Wanning's thin hands were clenched tightly in his hair and shoulder. "I spent the week cleaning the library; I wasn't busy with anything. My uncle could have dismissed me, but you... Ah, Shizun. Are you comfortable?”
Chu Wanning was practically on top of him. Mo Ran was human, after all, and a growing boy with limits. He had no choice but to hold on to his belt and press his back as far as possible against the wooden floor. He waited, hoping that his body would obey him this time.
Above him, the hungry immortal didn't seem to notice anything. His mouth, growing hotter and hotter, remained pressed tightly against Mo Ran's neck. Since he had never spent so much time drinking his disciple's blood before, he may not have realized that the blood from his jugular vein was still flowing at the rapid pace of the boy's heartbeat. At a certain point, therefore, Chu Wanning had to pull his fangs out of the warm skin of his disciple beneath him and suck the blood, sticking his tongue out to heal the wound with his saliva.
Of course, Mo Ran didn't know that this was a perfectly normal action done to prevent him from bleeding to death. All Mo Ran could feel were Chu Wanning's lips kissing him, and then, to his continued dismay, slowly and seductively licking his neck. If anyone had seen that scene through one of the pavilion's large windows, they would have thought the two figures were engaged in a prelude to night-time passion.
"Ah, ah, Shizun, wait—"
Mo Ran clung to Chu Wanning's waist, unable to do anything but surrender to the pleasure overtaking him.
He didn't know if it was a side effect or if it was him —his filthy heart in love with someone he shouldn't love in that way— but every time his teacher drank his blood, he felt light and fluffy, just like when he had tasted that pear blossom wine in the village. That heat gathered in his belly, swirling and making him feel desperate and euphoric. His heart raced and his mouth went dry. All he could think about was biting his teacher's neck, drinking his blood and making him tremble and moan his name until...
“Ah! Ah, ngh, ah! What the hell,” moaned Mo Ran, unable to stop his body's reaction. He was shaken irreparably by the orgasm that had shot through him like lightning burning a tree.
He had been moving his hips to the rhythm of his Shizun's licks. Perhaps he hadn't even noticed when he had become aroused; he was so entranced by the sight of Chu Wanning on the floor, half feral, his phoenix eyes bright and hungry, and his hands clutching his hair and dragging him into the depths of that abyss of pleasure.
When he felt his master's wet, salacious tongue licking his neck like a kitten drinking milk, Mo Ran simply had to rub himself against Chu Wanning's perfectly positioned leg a couple of times to come in the most pathetic way possible.
He held on to Chu Wanning, his eyes closed, trying to ignore the embarrassing wetness in his pants.
He wanted to enjoy the aftershocks of his climax for as long as possible because, despite everything, it had been the most pleasurable orgasm of his life. Not even during the jerk off sessions he had alone in his room, trying not to think about his master's haitang scent, his delicate hands or his delicate, porcelain-like profile.
“Fuck, fuck, ngh, fuck!”
His teacher stood up from on top of him. His lips were still wet with blood and he had a confused look on his face.
“What's wrong? Why are you sweating?' Chu Wanning asked, still sounding hazy as if waking up from a long dream. “Why are you saying such foul words?”
"I'm sorry... Erm, Shizun. You're on top of me,” he replied, unable to open his eyes and face the situation he was in.
Had he come in his pants after grinding himself obscenely against his Shizun's leg? If Chu Wanning didn't skin him alive, then he would have to gamble away all of Xue Meng's money at the nearest betting house because he was the luckiest bastard alive. “You're heavy.”
"Oh."
This seemed to wake Chu Wanning up.
He jumped away from Mo Ran, who rubbed his face before sitting up and turning to look at his master.
Chu Wanning had also frozen, one hand over his lips, his eyes wide with surprise and embarrassment.
Separated by a meter and sitting on the floor, they were both aware of what had happened between them. It was clear that Elder Yuheng had completely lost control, driven by hunger that had erased every other thought from his mind. Only one person in all of Sisheng Peak would accept the ridiculous and abnormal nature of this situation: Mo Ran. The two of them quickly found themselves embarrassed and grateful to be in this ridiculous situation together.
Chu Wanning was the first to speak. He stood up, brushed himself off, pulled a handkerchief from his sleeve and asked, "Are you hurt?"
Mo Ran had no choice but to stand up. He wasn't cold, but he couldn't help shivering when he felt the wet saliva on his neck and ruined pants.
"No, Shizun. I'm fine.”
“Why does your voice sound so hoarse?”
"Ah, I think I've caught a cold."
Chu Wanning pursed his lips. “Why are you walking around barefoot? It's not appropriate to walk around without shoes.”
"I'm sorry," Mo Ran repeated, feeling a little hurt. After all, he had done all that for him. "I came as fast as I could. Next time it won't be like this.”
The man in white with red lips raised a laconic eyebrow. “Next time?”
"Well, everyone has to eat, right?
Mo Ran tried to take a step forward, but the combination of being bled dry and blowing a load made him stagger pathetically toward the floor. To his continued misfortune, Chu Wanning stepped forward and caught him before he fell miserably, for the second time that night.
However, unlike a moment ago, Chu Wanning now felt warm and more human. Even the smell he gave off was less animalistic, like a creature that lived in a catacomb; now, he gave off a soft floral scent.
Mo Ran's body was young and full of life; his cock immediately began to react to the closeness.
He had no choice but to pull his robe down to cover himself.
"I think I went too far," said Chu Wanning, sounding moderately concerned. "Mo Ran, don't leave yet. You should eat something—at least something sweet. I have plenty—I mean, I have some sweets here that I can give you.”
Mo Ran nodded, looking deeply tormented. What the hell? His Shizun had been touching him when he arrived, and now he was fighting another erection. However, the chance to receive a sweet from Chu Wanning was like Fuxi himself coming down to crown him king of the world—he simply couldn't pass it up.
"I'm just going to use your bathroom, Shizun. I won't be long.”
Chu Wanning had taken out a small box and placed it on the table. Looking a little bedraggled, as if he had just woken up from a long nap, he frowned. "Don't be long."
Damn his luck.
Mo Ran ran to Chu Wanning's bathroom, which smelled as clean and floral as the rest of the pavilion, leaned against the door and immediately pulled his cock out of his pants, grabbing it with his hand.
"Ah, shit," he moaned, starting to rub himself, taking advantage of how sticky he was from his first ejaculation. "Shizun... this is your fault."
He was a complete mess: Disheveled, barefoot and emotionally destroyed. Of course he knew from the moment they started this arrangement that his Shizun was incredibly beautiful, and sometimes Mo Ran would leave the Red Lotus Pavilion feeling as though he were floating on air, not knowing whether it was anemia or love swelling his heart. It was true that he had jerked off several times thinking about Chu Wanning's red mouth. His greatest fantasy was that one day his master would let him kiss his porcelain skin.
Mo Ran remembered the first time he saw Chu Wanning taking blood, his movements so desperate that he thought he was going to leave his dick raw.
It happened in a dark, lonely corner of the bamboo forest near the Red Lotus Pavilion.
Mo Ran was still unfamiliar with the landmarks of Sisheng Peak. Trying to avoid Xue Meng's angry bullying—he had spent an entire night complaining about having to share Shizun with his idiot cousin—Mo Ran decided that he should at least get to know the place as well as the family that had so willingly taken him in. He wandered through all the pavilions, gardens, bridges and natural landscapes that Sisheng Peak had to offer, happy to have a second chance at life.
Needless to say, the last place he dared to set foot in was the Red Lotus Pavilion. He wasn't afraid of his Shizun; he just didn't want to disturb him with his childish explorations. So, at sunset, he slipped away, circled around the pond, and entered a rugged part of the bamboo forest. He walked carefree, looking attentively yet absentmindedly at the abundant offerings of the world around him. He whistled with happiness, thinking of nothing, like the protagonist of the most clichéd pastoral novel.
He walked along, unaware, towards the lair of a creature that had gone years without encountering the annoying intrusion of a distracted child. He did not even look up when he heard the sound of leaves crunching underfoot, unaware that a stranger was about to find him red-handed.
Or, more precisely, with his fangs in the neck of a small brown hare.
At first, Mo Ran was startled when he saw what looked like a white cloud close to the ground. The white cloud trembled among the bamboo stalks and, for some reason, had a pair of very white hands and long hair that fell exquisitely along its curves.
After blinking a couple of times, he realized that what he had seen was not a cloud with hands and silky hair, but the back of a person crouching on the ground, covered with gauzy garments.
Intrigued, Mo Ran took two steps to the side, hoping to discover what that person was doing there.
His curiosity was his mistake.
Anyone else would have run away if they had seen a creature crouching down and moving strangely on the ground. But Mo Ran wanted to know everything about Sisheng Peak; he didn't want Xue Meng to gloat about how familiar he was with his Shizun's grounds.
So, when Chu Wanning turned to look at him with blood on his face and a small creature hanging from his teeth, instead of picking up a rock and smashing his head open—because that would be better than being at the mercy of the hunter—Mo Ran stood very still and watched with wide eyes, almost in awe.
“Shizun?”
Mo Ran paused at that precise memory.
That was when he had seen Chu Wanning's bloodied face for the first time; when he had realized that his canines were longer and sharper than those of an ordinary man; when his phoenix eyes had glowed with predatory golden light, fixed on his face as if calculating how many steps it would take to jump at that prying creature and tear his neck apart with one bite.
He had never seen anyone more beautiful in his life. It was the first time his heart had been pierced by the unmistakable arrow of love.
Remembering those red, blood-covered lips, Mo Ran continued to stroke himself fervently, seeking to rid himself of that terrible need and return to the object of his desire, to eat one of his sweets.
"Ah, Shizun,” Mo Ran whimpered, closing his eyes and losing himself in fantasy as he remembered the weight of his master on top of him and the warmth of his tongue on his neck. He raised his left hand and caressed the spot where he had bitten him, seeking that intense, delicious sensation. "Can I bite you someday?"
He didn't know where these desperate desires came from, but ever since seeing Chu Wanning eat that hare, his mind had begun to expand towards the possibilities offered by broken innocence.
Perhaps that was why, when Chu Wanning stood up looking like a feral creature with eyes full of rage and fear, instead of running away Mo Ran begged him to let him help. Perhaps that was why, when Chu Wanning repeatedly told him to forget what he had seen and leave, Mo Ran offered him his blood and flesh.
The mere idea of not seeing his Shizun transformed into that hungry, excessively beautiful creature was worse for him than the prospect of being whipped until he was raw or of no longer being Elder Yuheng's student. He had become addicted at first sight, which summed up how he always felt about Chu Wanning.
The first time he saw him was beneath the Heaven Piercing Tower. When he saw his dark eyes, which were as bright as pieces of the starry sky itself, and his furrowed brow, which nevertheless did not seem to harbor any evil, he was captivated. The first time he touched his hands—masculine and perfectly shaped with long, skilled fingers—he felt a warmth unlike anything he had ever experienced before, despite their coldness.
Then, when Chu Wanning accepted his blood, Mo Ran tried to research in his Aunt Wang's library what kind of creature his shizun could be.
There were many possibilities: Chu Wanning could be a revenant who had returned from the dead with a changed appetite. He could be a dark sorcerer who had discovered eternal life through consuming blood. Or he could be a bat demon, an expert in dual cultivation—what was that again?—who enjoyed eating human flesh. Or he could simply be a strange man who liked almond cakes and the blood of hares.
Mo Ran didn't know much. He knew nothing about poetry, calligraphy, science or politics. But he did know that once you had experienced love, you had to pursue it. Love was an action. That's what his mother had told him. Love was neither cowardly nor self-serving, nor was it treacherous. It was brave, generous and loyal. In the bamboo forest, kneeling before his Shizun, Mo Ran had promised himself that, no matter what kind of creature he was, no matter whether he fed on blood or the hares of Sisheng Peak, he would care for, obey, and love his Shizun forever.
"Ah, ngh, ah, Chu Wanning... Shizun, you're driving me crazy," he gasped, feeling that familiar surge of pleasure that signaled his impending climax.
However, in the second before release, Mo Ran heard a knock behind him, at shoulder blade level.
"Mo Ran? Are you there? Why are you taking so long?" Chu Wanning asked from the other side, trying to open the door.
Mo Ran felt as if Tianwen had pierced his entire spine, from the nape of his neck to his balls. He had to bite his robe to stop himself from letting out an animalistic moan.
"''m fine, Shizun... Jus gif me a thecond, lease.”
Behind him, Chu Wanning stood still, but Mo Ran could almost hear his disapproval.
"Mo Ran..." his Shizun began, while Mo Ran, with his eyes closed and his teeth clenched on the fabric of his robe, began to jerk off with renewed energy. If he didn't orgasm right then, he was going to be uncomfortable and bad-tempered for the rest of the day. "Mo Ran, did I hurt you?"
Mo Ran said nothing. He pressed his back against the door, unable to believe that he was doing this, separated by only a few inches from his elegant, haughty teacher.
Had the door not been there, Mo Ran could have fallen into Chu Wanning's arms, taken his hand, and placed it on his dick so he could caress himself with those long fingers. "This is why I didn't want you to..." Chu Wanning continued, sounding particularly affected. Had Mo Ran not been lost in the fantasy of Chu Wanning's touch, perhaps he would have noticed the change in his voice.
"Mo Ran. I don't want you to overexert yourself for me. It's hardly worth it. Your blood does make me feel satisfied for longer than the animals in the forest, but not if it's at the expense of your health. I'm afraid I can't accept this arrangement any longer."
However, his disciple couldn't respond. It wasn't because he was angry with him; it was because, in his imagination, Chu Wanning had not only taken his cock in his hand, but was now kneeling down to take it between his crimson lips.
"Mo Ran? Chu Wanning asked again. In Mo Ran's ears, his question sounded more like the moan of a lustful succubus than the anguished question of a teacher who had misunderstood everything. "Don't be angry with me. Mo Ran, please."
But Mo Ran was on cloud nine. His second orgasm of the night hit him so hard that his vision blurred and prickles of wild pleasure filled his entire body. If it hadn't been for his master knocking on the door, he would have fainted right then and there.
When he opened the door half a minute later, his hands and face were wet and his eyes were bloodshot. Chu Wanning had already turned to leave.
“Shizun!” Mo Ran shouted, trying to remember what his teacher had said a moment earlier. Something about not being able to accept this arrangement any longer. "I'm fine! Don't worry; it's just that... Please don't push me away, all right? Just don't push me away. I...”
Chu Wanning turned to look at him.
Had they been more emotionally intelligent, they might have realized that this arrangement was definitely not good for them. It wasn't because they didn't want each other; it was because their bodies were simply not compatible enough yet. Mo Ran would cut off his own foot for Chu Wanning, and Chu Wanning would rather starve than hurt his beloved disciple. They were two opposing forces, in a stalemate of intentions.
What a pair of fools!
After two mind-blowing orgasms and losing two gallons of blood, Mo Ran reached his physical limit.
When he took a step towards his Shizun, the entire world dissolved into sparks of light and the sound of water. It was like a barely lucid dream. The last thing he saw before falling into darkness was Chu Wanning's remorseful face, mouthing something that looked like his name.
“What's that look on your face?” Xue Meng asked suddenly and angrily, as if the depression reflected in Mo Ran's frown were an offence against him. He grabbed his cousin by the arm and shook him, hoping to make him stop pouting. “You're disturbing me, Mo Ran. If you're going to carry on like this, you'd better sit at another table.”
"Meng-er!" exclaimed Shi Mei, grabbing Xue Meng's hand to stop him from hurting Mo Ran further. Mo Ran hadn't reacted at all. "A-Ran is still recovering from his fever. It's not his fault he looks a little under the weather. Right, A-Ran?"
At Shi Mei's soft voice, Mo Ran perked up a little. He turned to look at Xue Meng angrily and started to think of insults to throw at him, but when he looked back at the table where Chu Wanning usually sat, he lost his enthusiasm.
“Have you seen Shizun these past few days?” Mo Ran asked, sighing as though he were the most heartbroken lover on earth.
Xue Meng and Shi Mei glanced at each other surreptitiously.
"Yes, while you were in bed, we went to class and training. Mo Ran, this is the third time you've asked us the same question."
“Is he mad at me?”
"Why do you say that, A-Ran?"
"He didn't visit me once while I was sick!"
"Why would he? Shizun has more important things to do than look after a smelly dog."
“Then why would he teach you?”
“You!”
“Ah, forget it. It's because you're a little poopy bird. Someone needs to clean your cage, otherwise you'll die in your own shit.
“Meng-er!”
“Leave me alone, Shi Mei, someone needs to teach this brute mutt some manners.”
Ultimately, it was Shi Mei who stopped Xue Meng from slapping Mo Ran to death and gave him a glimmer of hope in his pitiful situation.
"Shizun isn't angry with you, A-Ran. He always asked us how you were and gave us medicine for you. Maybe what you need to do is visit him. He's been very busy with his holy guardians these days.”
However, the matter was not as simple as Xue Meng or Shi Mei believed.
They didn't know about the arrangement between Mo Ran and Chu Wanning, nor that on the last day they had seen each other, Mo Ran had fainted instead of fighting for his privileged place as Shizun's dinner. After spending a week in bed, Chu Wanning had kept his word and not come looking for Mo Ran, not even to offer him some comfort.
Even Mo Ran had lost his appetite. He went to sit with his friends in the Mengpo dining hall, foolishly hoping to see Chu Wanning, even though he knew he rarely came there because he didn't usually eat human food.
At night, sleepless and with an anxious heart, he decided to take Shi Mei's advice and visit him.
In his foolish teenage mind, if a person did not feed on their most important source of nutrition, it was because that source was undesirable. Similar to a person who would not consume spoiled rice, even in the face of starvation.
However, in his infatuated teenage mind, Mo Ran couldn't allow his master to go hungry simply because he was a bad disciple who knew nothing but to jerk off and faint because of it.
Filled with sorrow, he returned to Madame Wang's study. Without his noticing, he took a needle and a small silver syringe from his drawers. His aunt used these to perform bloodletting on patients with high blood pressure.
After several painful attempts, Mo Ran filled a bowl with his blood, covered it with a lid and carefully climbed the stairs to the Red Lotus Pavilion—not realizing that it was past midnight, and that Sisheng Peak had been left desolate and silent, as it almost always was when he supplied Chu Wanning with his blood.
It was only then that he realized his Shizun always called him at night.
For some reason, that did not comfort him. If anything, it felt like another weight on his heart. As if Chu Wanning had to bear his vehemence in addition to teaching, repairing spiritual barriers, creating holy guardians for those in need and fighting demons. Now he also had to endure the indiscretions of a disciple who sometimes wanted nothing more than to embrace him and devour him.
With his mind full of doubts, he stood outside the pavilion, pacing back and forth, unable to decide whether to leave or go in.
It wasn't until Chu Wanning unknowingly walked out of the main hall and spoke to him.
Mo Ran turned around, feeling completely out of place with a bowl of his blood in his hands and an anguished look on his face. Would he ever get used to seeing him? Would his stomach ever stop filling with butterflies when he laid eyes on that miraculous face?
There he was: tall and slender with a waist so narrow that he could fit his hands around it, as he had discovered on that disastrous occasion. Framed by the black ink tongues of his hair, his face simply could not be more transcendently beautiful: his sharp features; his slanted eyes; his always-wet-looking lips, ready to be bitten.
If Mo Ran were more educated and knew more about meter and rhythm, perhaps he could write a poem about how wonderful it was just to see him standing there. There was something almost overwhelming about him; as if Chu Wanning were a piece torn from the cosmos beyond the sky. As if space itself bent around his silhouette, giving him an indescribable divine aura.
“Mo Ran! What are you doing here so late?” asked Chu Wanning. Suddenly, Mo Ran felt that his whole plan was very stupid.
“Sorry, Shizun. I think I got lost on my way back from the dining hall.”
Chu Wanning raised an eyebrow. Of course, that was a stupid excuse.
"What do you have in your hands?' he asked, ever perceptive.
“Nothing.”
Chu Wanning stepped off the porch and walked towards Mo Ran, who was standing on the stone path, with complete indifference. 'That doesn't look like nothing.'
"It was a gift for Shizun, but it's silly. Don't bother with something so silly.”
His master tilted his head, looking both curious and irritated. 'If it's a gift, then it's not silly. Show me what it is.”
"It's very late, Shizun. I'll come back in the morning with a clearer head,” said Mo Ran, taking a step back.
"We've met later at night before, haven't we? It doesn't matter what time it is. Show me."
“Oh, Shizun. But you won't like it, and you'll get even angrier with me. I don't want to make you angry.”
Chu Wanning frowned.
"I'm not angry with you. Why would I be angry about the inside of a bowl?” said his master in the schoolmasterly tone he adopted when teaching calligraphy to Mo Ran. Then, with a little less conviction, he added, "Whatever you give me, I'll like." Mo Ran had given him three excuses, and three times Chu Wanning had rejected them.
Mo Ran was reminded of a scene that had happened not long ago, in which he had dodged each and every one of his teacher's questions.
Feeling a little embarrassed, Mo Ran approached Chu Wanning again and uncovered the bowl full of blood.
Chu Wanning, for his part, was so flabbergasted that he didn't even blink.
"Now I realize how foolish I am, Shizun. This disciple apologizes, but... I thought that since you didn't want to see me anymore, I could bring you some of my blood so you could drink it without having to take care of me all the time, or bother you at all hours. And..."
However, the more he spoke, the more he muddled up, and he ended up closing his mouth.
Sure enough, once the initial shock of the bowl's contents had worn off, Chu Wanning burst into flames like dry grass hit by a spark.
“Silly disciple!” he exclaimed, hitting Mo Ran on the arms and head.
The blows weren't hard, but they were enough to make Mo Ran back away.
“Shizun! You said you wouldn't get angry!'
"Because I thought it was a bowl of congee! Not your blood!”
“Ouch, please! Wait, I'll throw everything away. Stop hitting me; I'm sorry. This disciple is a fool. I know. Ouch, Shizun.'"
Finally, Chu Wanning grabbed him by the lapel of his robe and dragged him inside the pavilion towards the table where they always sat when Chu Wanning was about to drink his blood.
Still furious, he snatched the bowl from his hands and brought his nose close to its contents. "Mo Weiyu. This blood is fresh. How...?”
In response, Mo Ran rolled up his sleeve to reveal the mess he had made on the inside of his arm, where he had pricked his skin dozens of times to find the vein and extract the thick red liquid that nourished the man he loved most in the world. What were a couple of pricks? Nothing. He would do it again and again.
"Mo Ran," sighed his master, no longer so angry. "But I can't drink it like this. Once it starts to oxidase, it's not fit for consumption."
"Oh," said Mo Ran, feeling incredibly stupid. Of course. Amazing. Wasn’t he so clever? He had never even considered whether drinking blood like that was possible. He had just done it.
Nevertheless, Chu Wanning dipped a finger into the bowl of blood. Then, as if by some miracle—and it was—he brought it to his mouth. Mo Ran watched his master dip his long, beautiful finger into his moist mouth, run his tongue over the tip, and squint his eyes as if the stale blood were a delicacy.
His brain stopped working entirely.
"Shizun! The bowl doesn't matter. If you want me—I mean, if you need my blood, just drink from me. Please. Don't eat anywhere else. Don't kill any more hares. Take me. It would be my greatest pleasure.”
Chu Wanning opened his eyes wide, and to his surprise, a blush began to spread across his pale face. As if drawn by his disciple's sincere words, Mo Ran slowly approached him, sniffing the source of his nourishment.
Feeling his body shiver, Mo Ran gathered his ponytail and pulled his hair to one side, exposing his neck. Then, as if reluctant to do so, he parted his legs slightly, drawing his master between them.
"Please, Shizun. Drink from me. There is nothing else I want more in this world."
The last thing Chu Wanning said before sinking his fangs into Mo Ran was, "My foolish disciple."
The two of them fell into the habit like two stones at the bottom of a deep well.
It was almost simple: the way Chu Wanning sank into the taut skin of his neck; the way Mo Ran clung to his master's waist, no longer afraid to do so but afraid of losing his grip and never feeling him so close again.
However, it wasn't as simple as it seemed. Mo Ran's heart beat so hard with excitement at having his Shizun so close again that Chu Wanning had to press his mouth to the wound on his disciple's neck to suck out the blood gushing from it, driven only by Mo Ran's exuberant vitality.
He had never experienced anything like it; it was as if a hare had jumped onto his plate, cut open its belly with a knife and said, 'Here I am, predator. I'm ready for you.' He had never experienced such devotion and suffocating veneration from anyone before, so sudden and intense that it seemed like a miracle. Perhaps it was a miracle gone wrong, one that someone like him didn't deserve, but one he couldn't refuse.
Mo Ran clung tightly to Chu Wanning's sash when he felt his master's warm tongue lick the rivulets of blood that had escaped his suction and were beginning to stain the collar of his robe, and when he felt the butterfly-softness of his lips return to his skin.
“Shizun,” Mo Ran gasped, raising his hands to hold onto his thin arms and place them on his bony shoulders. Every new part of Chu Wanning that he touched made his heart skip a beat. “Shizun, do you like it? Do you like the taste of my blood?”
Chu Wanning didn't know how to respond, so he remained silent. Besides, he had gone another entire week without feeding. Overwhelmed with guilt for thinking that Mo Ran's fainting spells and fever were his fault, he had other priorities: first he had to fill his stomach. Then, if Mo Ran survived the ordeal, he could answer his questions.
In a burst that had nothing to do with feeding, Chu Wanning opened Mo Ran's robe and ran his blood-filled mouth over the rest of his neck where he had never bitten before. Mo Ran, who only wanted to feel his master around him, fell onto the table and grabbed Chu Wanning's thin waist between his legs.
“I like it, Shizun. I really like it when you bite me.”
Quickly, Chu Wanning's bites turned into something else, but it wasn't exactly a kiss. The man brushed the edge of his teeth against Mo Ran's collarbones and sucked hard where he felt the warm pulse of a vein, as if miming a bite, but without actually doing it.
It was too much to drive a man crazy. And Mo Ran, who was also crazy with love, could no longer resist the temptation to do what he had wanted to do for months on end.
He took his master by the shoulders and pulled him back. Chu Wanning faced him with a confused look on his face.
His golden eyes, like those of a hungry creature, flashed beautifully in the flickering light of the lamps, and Mo Ran bet everything on that precious gleam which, even though it belonged to a blood-sucking demigod, seemed to possess a strange softness. It was the most explicit permission he was going to receive from his Shizun.
Before Chu Wanning could react, Mo Ran closed the distance between them, capturing his blood-wet lips with his own in a passionate kiss.
His hands clung to Chu Wanning's face as he sucked the metallic taste from his mouth. He parted his lips with his tongue, eager to finally taste himself, to catalogue all the flavors that came from that place which had been his obsession for so many nights.
There were no words to describe how incredible it was to kiss Chu Wanning. His lips were soft and his saliva was sweet and warm. It invited him to sink into it and let himself be devoured by those white, dangerous teeth. He wanted to slide down that tongue and all the way to the bottom of his stomach.
Mo Ran took advantage of his master's surprise, flipping him over onto the table and climbing on top of him in a mirror image of the night when Chu Wanning had pinned him to the floor and sucked him until he passed out.
Now, he wanted to be the one to make Chu Wanning lose consciousness with his tongue, hungry for another kind of food.
"Shizun, I'm sorry," Mo Ran said after what seemed like an eternity of frantically tasting his mouth. When he pulled away, he was amazed to see that a thread of red saliva still connected them. Chu Wanning's eyes were black, like a pool of ink. "I've been hungry too. For so long.”
“Mo Ran... I—we shouldn't be doing this," Chu Wanning began, blinking as if waking from the fog of his hunger.
“Shh! No, Shizun. We should do this more often. Don't worry, I'm fine. I'm perfectly fine.”
Then, as if to pacify him, he pressed his wrist to his mouth while Mo Ran pressed his mouth to the beautiful curve of his teacher's neck. It smelled of haitang flowers and wet earth and tasted of fine salt and something alive and indescribable: Chu Wanning.
“Ah!” Mo Ran exclaimed when he felt his teacher's fangs prick his wrist. The pain almost paralyzed his entire arm, but he soon felt that artificial bliss again, filling his body with such addictive pleasure that goose bumps covered his entire body.
He didn't even notice when he knocked over the bowl of blood in his desperate movements to get closer to Chu Wanning. The bowl fell heavily to the floor, irreparably staining everything with blood and saturating the already hot air in the room with its metallic smell.
Mo Ran wasn't a bat demon or a deadly vampire; he was just a boy who was absolutely obsessed with Chu Wanning. So, when he saw his master close his eyes and inhale sharply through his nose as if drunk with sensation, and in a low voice he whispered, “so sweet,” Mo Ran pressed his eager mouth against Chu Wanning's jugular and sucked hard, hoping to draw blood from there as well.
Perhaps because Mo Ran was focused on leaving love bites on his Shizun's neck and Chu Wanning was focused on drinking the blood flowing from his disciple's wrist, neither of them noticed who was rubbing against the other's groin.
Mo Ran was certainly the first to let out an undignified moan, looking down to find the maddening sight of Chu Wanning's erection beneath the loose material of his white robe.
"Wow," he said, speaking from the heart, because it was genuinely the most incredible thing he had ever witnessed. "Shizun..."
Without waiting any longer, Mo Ran placed both hands on either side of Chu Wanning's head and began to grind himself indiscriminately against his hard cock. Each touch was like lightning striking his entire body. The pleasure was overwhelming, the sensations too much to bear. His hand was covered in blood, his lips were sore from sucking his Shizun's neck so desperately, and his cock was screaming for release. He wasn't going to be able to hold out much longer.
When his teacher realized what was happening, he tried to get up from the table, but Mo Ran held him there, gripping his narrow waist tightly.
"Mo Ran, wait! This isn't right. Stop,” he began, totally mortified.
But how mortified could he be with that face? His cheeks were flushed, his lips were red as if painted with blusher and his eyebrows were drawn together in an expression of pleasure. Besides, Mo Ran could feel his hard-on all too clearly—indisputable proof that this was perfectly fine.
“Please, Shizun. Just a little more,” Mo Ran begged, bending down to capture his lips again and whisper his desperate pleas into his mouth. 'Did you know that's why I fainted the other day? I wet myself when you took my blood. I've been masturbating for months thinking about you. I know I'm pathetic, but please. Let me do this.”
"Mo Ran," gasped Chu Wanning, shaking his head, but wonderfully beginning to move his hips to the frenzied rhythm of his disciple. "Wait, this is too much... I can't, it's too much.”
"Let me touch you. You'll feel better, Shizun, I promise."
With his hand covered in blood and trembling from the rush of sensations, Mo Ran pulled down his master's pants. Without stopping to think about the consequences, he grabbed hold of his incredibly hard cock. Under his hand, it felt impossibly real and hot, softer and slicker than the lips he had spent minutes kissing.
Using his own blood as lubricant, Mo Ran began to rub the head of Chu Wanning's dick. At first contact, Chu Wanning let out an uncharacteristic moan that sounded more like the whimper of a mortally wounded animal. It was mesmerizing. Chu Wanning, covered in blood and moaning with pleasure. It was music to his ears.
Mo Ran wanted to taste the liquid that was beginning to ooze out; it was so thick and fragrant that it soon mixed with the metallic scent of his own blood. However, Mo Ran was so close to coming that he could only pull out his own cock and press it against his teacher's.
"Ah, ah," they both moaned, surprised at how good the skin-on-skin contact felt.
"Shizun, ngh, fuck."
Chu Wanning shook his head, continuing to move his hips and not pushing the boy off him. "Mo Ran. No... ah, ah, don't say bad words."
Mo Ran began to laugh, but soon his laughter turned into moans and gasps. Their cocks were completely covered in precum and blood from Mo Ran's wrist, and each stroke was more frenzied than the last.
He couldn't remember where he was, what his name was or which classes he had the next day. Was he a disciple of Sisheng Peak? At that moment, the only thing he knew with absolute certainty was that he was Chu Wanning's source of food and pleasure; the boy who loved him so much that he would give him his blood, his aspirations, his memories and his heart.
The rhythm of their movements became increasingly chaotic and the sound of their bodies became increasingly vulgar until their delight turned into a torrent that sank them both to the bottom of the sea of their enormous appetite.
Mo Ran was the first to climax. When Chu Wanning looked down to see his disciple spilling onto his robe, he too ejaculated between the boy's fingers, losing his mind completely as he shot hick streams of semen.
Chu Wanning had never done anything like that before. No one had ever touched him like that; no one had ever offered to give him so much so selflessly. Even if Mo Ran had never touched him like that before, Chu Wanning would have kept him in his heart. But now, flooded with pleasure, satisfaction and devotion, he felt that the only way to repay this wonderful boy was to give him his entire life.
For Mo Ran, the look on his master's face at that moment —a mystical bliss beyond words; his mouth half open, revealing his red tongue; his eyes closed, revealing his thick eyelashes; the pink color of his cheeks, like a recently fed baby— was worth more than all the recognition in the cultivation world, more than immortality, more than divinity.
Who would want to be a god when they could have Chu Wanning beneath them, shaking with pleasure after an orgasm.
After a while of nothingness and blissful floating in the post-climax haze, the first to get up was Mo Ran. His head was completely empty and he had a silly smile on his face. He had the decency to tuck his limp penis into his pants and do the same for his teacher.
Chu Wanning covered his eyes with his arm, trying to steady his ragged breathing. Gods! Mo Ran wanted to kiss him again, to bite him again, to feel him close to his skin again.
“Shizun?”
“Mn?”
When he realized that his master wasn't chasing him away or pulling out any divine weapons to tear him to pieces and feed the fish in the pond, Mo Ran sat down on the edge of the table, as happy as a child on their birthday.
Satisfaction. That was what he felt. He had never felt it before, which was why he had been unable to name it until that moment.
“Shizun, I have a question.”
“What?”
'What are you? I've read Madam Wang's books and the scrolls in the library, but I haven't had any luck.”
Su Shizun sighed and rose from the table with all the elegance he could muster given the situation they were in. He took the handkerchief from his sleeve and wiped the corners of his mouth without looking back. Mo Ran didn't mind. Even if Chu Wanning had pulled out a knife and stabbed him in the heart at that moment, he would have thanked him with a smile.
Finally, Chu Wanning looked him in the eye.
Wow, he's so beautiful.
'I'm not sure. I've always been like this. In the past, my shi... In the past, the people who looked after me thought I might have been bitten by a bat demon. But I don't have a demonic aura, so that can't be right. I can eat normal food like any other person, but only blood sustains my spiritual energy. I don't know. Maybe I was just born this way,” Chu Wanning explained, sounding strangely pessimistic, as if it had been the source of perpetual torment. "Maybe it was always my destiny to be different from others."
Mo Ran frowned.
"Well, I don't care. I think you're amazing. There's no one else like you, Shizun."
Chu Wanning coughed lightly into his handkerchief to hide his blush. Mo Ran smiled more broadly.
"By the way, that was great, wasn't it? Next time, we should do it on the bed.'
His precious, amazing, one-of-a-kind Shizun —who was neither a bat demon, nor a blood-sucking reincarnation, nor someone who hated him— raised his starry eyes. He was so surprised that he opened and closed his mouth a couple of times before saying:
“Next time?”
"Sure," replied Mo Ran, jumping off the table to approach and kiss his Shizun on the cheek. "Everyone has to eat, right?"