LUO FAN
The residence was cloaked in darkness by the time I returned. Servants greeted me promptly, ushering me to a meal they had prepared. The food was warm and fragrant, yet every bite felt heavy, like swallowing lead.
After finishing my meal, I excused myself and retreated to my room. Exhaustion weighed heavily on my body and spirit, and all I wanted was to escape into sleep, if only for a few hours. But just as I was settling down, a knock interrupted the silence.
A servant entered and bowed low. "Young Master Luo, Lord Ruan awaits you at the training ground."
I exhaled slowly, suppressing the groan that threatened to escape. Of course, Ruan Yanjun wouldn't allow me even a single night's reprieve.
Without a word, I rose from the bed, adjusted my robes, and followed the servant out into the cool night air.
When I arrived at the training ground, I found Ruan Yanjun, standing in the center of the courtyard. His arms were clasped behind his back, his imposing figure bathed in the pale light of the moon. His expression was unreadable, but the tension in his stance spoke volumes.
Trouble.
"If you're ready," he said, his voice cutting through the quiet like a blade, "attack me."
I sighed, my weariness bleeding into my voice. "Lord Ruan, if you don't mind, could you allow me just one night to rest? Tomorrow at dawn, I'll resume training."
His eyes narrowed, sharp as steel. "So you can wallow in grief over your lost love again?"
I nodded hesitantly. "I just need time."
His laugh was soft but devoid of humor. "If you can land a single hit on me tonight, I'll grant your request. What do you say to that?"
It was an impossible challenge, and we both knew it. How could someone like me—barely holding on to the remnants of my strength—hope to touch an immortal-level cultivator like him? Yet, I knew there would be no escaping his demands tonight.
He waited, his gaze boring into me as I stood frozen in place. "Well?"
I remained silent, unmoving.
"A-Fan," he said, his tone laced with impatience, "I'm giving you the advantage of the first move. Or would you rather I make it instead?"
"Lord Ruan," I began cautiously, "am I really asking for too much? Just one night—"
His sharp glare silenced me. "I already excused you from training this morning," he snapped. "Do not take advantage of my leniency."
"A single day of rest won't make a difference," I reasoned.
"Every day matters," he countered. "Miss even one, and your progress will suffer."
I lowered my gaze, unwilling to meet his piercing eyes. My silence was answer enough—my defiance a quiet plea for understanding.
His tone softened, but only slightly. "A-Fan," he said, his words deliberate, "I've worked tirelessly to prolong your life. Don't make me regret it."
Reluctantly, I stepped forward and made a half-hearted attempt to strike.
The fight that followed was a farce. I moved sluggishly, my attacks slow and probably too predictable. Ruan Yanjun didn't even bother to exert himself, sidestepping my strikes with ease. His counterattacks came with the precision of a master, each blow striking just hard enough to remind me of my inadequacy.
"Pathetic," he muttered after a particularly weak attempt on my part.
I couldn't argue. My heart wasn't in it. Every blow I took felt deserved. My limbs ached, but the pain was a welcome distraction from the hollowness inside me.
He stopped abruptly, his movements freezing as he studied me with a mix of frustration and disappointment. "You're not even trying," he said coldly. "Have you buried your dreams alongside her grave?"
I flinched but said nothing.
His eyes darkened, and with a flick of his wrist, he summoned a crackling orb of energy into his palm. It hovered there, pulsating with raw power.
"Fight back," he ordered.
But I didn't move.
The orb shot toward me with terrifying speed, and I made no effort to dodge. The impact struck me square in the chest, hurling me backward into a wall. Pain flared through my body, momentarily disorienting me.
When the haze cleared, Ruan Yanjun was crouched before me, his gaze fierce and unrelenting.
"Fool," he growled, and before I could react, his lips were on mine.
My eyes widened in shock. His kiss was anything but gentle—it was an invasion, a forceful claim that left me breathless. I tried to protest, but the sounds were muffled against his mouth. His lips pressed harder, parting mine with ease, and then his tongue invaded, exploring with an audacity that left me paralyzed.
It was wrong.
It was so, so wrong.
His kiss was hot, dominating, and unrelenting, stirring a storm of emotions I didn't want to confront. Disgust, confusion, and a faint, unwelcome flicker of something else all warred within me. This wasn't a kiss—it was a battle, one I was losing without ever putting up a fight.
When he finally pulled away, his breathing was ragged, his eyes blazing. I took the opportunity to hit him, but he quickly caught my wrists on each of his hands and pinned them on the ground above my head
"Here's my new rule, A-Fan," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "Every time you displease me, I'll kiss you. Unless, of course, you want to be kissed over and over again. In which case, by all means, continue your pitiful display."
I glared at him, my chest heaving as I struggled for air.
He smirked, leaning closer. "Or," he added, his voice dropping to a whisper, "if you crave my kisses, just say so. No need for dramatics."
Heat flooded my face, not from desire but from sheer indignation. I swallowed the anger rising within me, aware of the dark core within that fed on such emotions.
"I'll pretend I didn't hear that," I said through gritted teeth. "You've made your point. Now let me go."
He released my wrists and stepped back, but not without a sigh of exasperation.
As I tried to rise, a sharp pain shot through my chest. I pressed a hand to the ache, wincing.
Ruan Yanjun's expression softened, though his voice remained stern. "You're reckless," he said, scooping me into his arms with infuriating ease. "We should still be training, but instead, I have to waste time healing your self-inflicted wounds."
Self-inflicted?
I wanted to argue, but the words died on my lips. Exhaustion and pain sapped what little strength I had left.