The restaurant buzzed with life as Fu Ran's group enjoyed their meal.
The disciples' bickering had finally quieted—Meng Xiao nursing a bruised ego from Fu Ran's menu smack, Lin An savoring her cake, Wan Yu nibbling his steamed bun, and Su Biyu clutching her scrap of paper with a shy smile.
Fu Ran took another bite of the honey-glazed fruit. For once, he let himself relax, the clatter of plates and distant talking had become almost soothing against the earlier turmoil in his thoughts.
"Is it nighttime already?" he murmured, glancing out the window. The crimson trees framed a narrow walkway behind the restaurant. A few masked figures drifted past, their silhouettes stark against the fading orange and purple sky.
Jinan's nightlife was stirring earlier than he'd expected.
"We'll be fine for a while longer," Tian Han said, his eyes sharp as he followed Fu Ran's gaze. "Some people just start early."
Fu Ran nodded absently as his attention was snagged on the passing figures. His chopsticks hovered over the last piece of fruit as he watched.
The restaurant's noise swelled; patrons laughed, and servers weaved through tables. But out there, the alley seemed quieter, almost still. If not for the halt of a single figure, he might have lost himself in the view.
A man stopped dead in front of the window with a jolt. And in a moment of confusion, or maybe shock, his eyes met Fu Ran's. The mask he wore was simplistic black, different from the other's he'd seen in the city because it was painted with the thin lines of a white lotus.
Fu Ran cocked his head.
"Ran-Ran…?" The man in black whispered, barely audible to anyone else.
His eyes widened, and yet Fu Ran was too stunned to say a word. What? He mentally questioned, Do I know you? The nickname was so familiar, more so than even 'Shizun' so of course his heart thumped against his chest.
Perhaps Fu Ran was too still, or perhaps his chopsticks trembled too openly. But Tian Han gave a quick and sharp, "Shizun."
That alone startled the man outside the window. A step back—and a nervous chuckle. He whispered a small apology and turned on his heels.
"Kids, finish up your food." Tian Han ushered the disciples up with a gentle but firm hand, though his gaze flicked to the window one last time.
***
The light of day was fading by the minute, and that man was stuck on Fu Ran's mind. He was not The Impostor, nor was he the golden-masked man.
How is it that so many people in this city know a man who doesn't leave his house? Fu Ran huffed.
His gaze drifted to the alley they'd passed, now swallowed by people. Fu Ran wanted to find that man from earlier, but he'd vanished in such a hurry that by now he would have been long gone.
A tap to his shoulder pulled him away from his search.
"Shizun," Tian Han said, his voice slipping into a careful whisper. "How's your arm after the rest?" He changed the topic quite easily, attempting to lighten the mood.
"Even holding chopsticks hurts."
"Then can I take you somewhere?"
Fu Ran's brows furrowed. "What? Do you have a healer in mind? Here?" He gestured vaguely at masked people and garish stalls. The Faceless City didn't strike him as a haven for discreet medicine—maybe drugs, but not doctors.
Tian Han's lips curved into that infuriatingly cryptic smile. "It's special," he said simply, "Trust me, Shizun. It's worth a visit."
He turned to the disciples before Fu Ran could press, and gave a small clap to catch their eyes. "Meng Xiao, you're in charge. Take everyone back to the inn. Straight there, no wandering. Stay together. Oh, and Lock the door."
Meng Xiao snapped to attention, chest puffing out like a rooster. "Hah, I'm in charge? Hear that?" He swung an arm around Lin An.
She huffed and swatted him away. "Shizun, you're sure you're okay?" She asked.
"I'm fine," Fu Ran lied. "Go on. Listen to Meng Xiao. It's still slightly daylight, so it shouldn't be too bad to be alone."
With that, the disciples trudged off; Meng Xiao led and Lin An cast one glance back. Wan Yu's golden eyes lingered longest, but Su Biyu tugged him forward.
Fu Ran couldn't shake a terrible feeling settling in his gut.
Even Tian Han's soft, "This way," dredged up his worries.
Everything he did in this city seemed to come with a burden. There were so many places Tian Han could take him, and after the auction house Fu Ran believed nothing would surprise him.
However, he didn't expect to be led into a thin dead-end alley.
A purple flower sign loomed ahead, hand-painted and garish against the drab stone: The Violet Court. Beautiful flowers canopied the alleyway, hanging down almost like his wisteria back home.
Fu Ran stopped short as the scent of violets and incense hit him full force. A brothel? Of course it's something strange. He shot Tian Han a look, sharp enough to cut. "Seriously?"
Tian Han smirked and pushed open the door. "Won't you trust me?"
This. Is exactly why I don't trust you.
The sultry murmur of music and laughter spilled out, wrapping around them like velvet. Fu Ran swallowed hard. Never, in his life, had the sheltered Peak Master been to a place like this. To say he was scared out of his skin might have been true.
A whole room of deep purples and lavenders draped over every surface: walls, curtains, plush couches. This made up the Violet Court. Low strums of a guqin mixed in elegantly with the gleeful giggles of women deeper inside.
Fu Ran's head spun. Why do I follow the Tyrant Emperor without a second thought?
A small, hunched woman waited at the counter. Her gray bun was perched high and her face was painted with bright rouge that clashed with her wrinkles. She puffed on her pipe, and smiled when she saw the two.
"Oh, Your Highness," she drawled. "Back again? And with a friend I see." Her sunken cheeks lifted higher.
Fu Ran nearly choked, his gaze snapping to Tian Han. "Your Highness?" He recoiled.
Tian Han really was treated so strangely everywhere they went together. In the auction house, he had a fast pass to get to the very back room, and how he is given a deplorably fancy title at a brothel—A brothel!
Just what did he get up to?
Tian Han waved his hand in front of Fu Ran's face. "It's not what you think."
"I didn't need to know your hobbies," Fu Ran hissed and kept his voice low, though the madam's amused cackle suggested she'd heard anyway.
Tian Han crossed his arms. "Shizun, can you refrain from assumptions just once? We're here for you." He turned to the madam, his tone shifting to something smoother, almost pleading. "Is she in? His meridians were damaged quite badly."