"I'm sorry, Shizun," Tian Han whispered. His head was lowered like a kicked puppy and his usual sharpness was dulled. It had taken an entire hour to wriggle him out of the courtesans' grasp. They really hadn't wanted to let him go.
Fu Ran crossed his arms with a huff. "It's fine," he said simply.
Nothing about this was fine.
It started with walking corpses and led to a kidnapping. A fight in the auction house resulted in meeting a mirror—one bold enough to steal Shi Wei Ji and leave Fu Ran severely injured. The children were back where they belonged, relatively safe and sound, but the mission was still only half settled.
And yet he couldn't even call An Xian Yun Peak? It was his first mission in forever, and he was so out of his depth.
Not only were there people outside trying to interfere. Fu Ran's gaze flickered to Tian Han. He even had problems on the inside. Every single thing this man spouted had begun to sound like jumbled lies.
Tian Han's identity was too much of a mystery to trust, and yet he carried himself with such confidence.
Did he really not know his own fate? To become a Tyrant Emperor. Did he even want to become one?
Fu Ran knew nothing about him.
That much was clear. His lips quivered as he opened his mouth. He wasn't sure what to say, so he started with the only thing he had grown to know well.
"Tian Han."
Golden eyes lifted at the sound of his name. His ashen brown hair was still slightly tousled from the earlier struggle, strands falling across his forehead. With an air of effortless elegance, the Tyrant Emperor smiled. Like he had done nothing wrong.
"What is it?"
"If you were given the opportunity… Would you become an emperor?"
The words left Fu Ran's lips before he could stop them. Something in his head screamed for him to shut up, to take it back. It was as if Shi Wei Ji were still there, whispering warnings in his ear. "Be careful. This question will lead to ruin."
Yet, no immediate disaster struck.
Tian Han stiffened but played it off with a smile—practiced, perfect. "I don't know. That's a rather specific question. Do you know how unlikely it is for any one person to become an emperor?"
It all just sounded like avoidance.
Tian Han turned fully to face him now, his gaze composed and his expression steady. But Fu Ran could see through it. This was a perfected mask of apathy. The biggest difference from this mask, and the one worn by the Tyrant Emperor was that Tian Han's apathy wore a smile.
After a moment with no response, Tian Han cocked a brow. "Why do you ask?"
"Isn't it a good way to get to know someone?" Fu Ran's tone was light, almost playful. "Like asking what someone would do if they were suddenly given ten thousand gold coins?"
He could lie too.
The corners of Fu Ran's lips lifted as he propped his chin against his sleeve. And with a few seconds of batting lashes, he let out a quiet chuckle. "It's just a question," he continued. "I realized that I don't know you much at all."
The tension in the air was heavy, thick enough to choke on. Tian Han's breath was barely audible as he swallowed.
"I don't know much about you either," he murmured.
Bullshit. Fu Ran's narrowed in scrutiny.
But after that, the night had fallen quiet again. Being left alone with his thoughts, left Fu Ran a touch sullen. He needed to throw it all away—the kindness, the sympathies, every fleeting moment of doubt. How else was he supposed to move past this? Tian Han was his warning, and Fu Ran needed to remember that.
It seems like neither was willing to continue the conversation, so he shifted the topic to the mission at hand. "How good are you at tracking?" Fu Ran asked.
"I'm sufficient."
"Then, are you willing to help me look for that masked man? You seemed more startled than I was when he showed up. Do you know who he is?"
Tian Han hesitated for a beat too long. The silence chipped away at Fu Ran's patience until it nearly snapped.
"I was mistaken. I don't know who he is," Tian Han finally said. His tone was perfectly even, but Fu Ran wasn't convinced.
Lifting his hand, Tian Han extended his fingers. A small spark of spiritual energy flickered to life, forming a soft glow that hovered above his palm.
Tracking spells like this were common but required familiarity with the target's spiritual energy. As long as one could recognize the signature, it was possible to trace it. Cultivators often used this technique to track criminals or missing sect members, though it wasn't something the average cultivator would bother to learn. It wasn't forbidden, just rare.
Tian Han extended his other hand toward Fu Ran. "Then may I? Please, let me hold your hand," he asked gently.
For the sake of their mission, he did what he was asked. Tian Han's hand was warm and strong, and his skin was darker and more vibrant in contrast to Fu Ran's own.
Once their hands were set in place, Tian Han curled his fingers into a hold. A pulse of spiritual energy coursed through him, and the small orb of light in his other hand flickered brighter.
"There. It will glow more intensely when we're nearby. It should be picking up on Shi Wei Ji's presence."
"Then, shall we spend the evening wandering the city?" Fu Ran asked.
He moved to stand and adjusted his sleeves, but Tian Han refused to let go of his hand. Annoyance flashed across Fu Ran's face as he wordlessly demanded an explanation.
"You'll have to hold on to me," Tian Han said softly. A grin tugged at his lips. "It won't work if you let go."
As if to prove his point, he released Fu Ran's wrist for a brief moment. The light dimmed instantly, fading nearly to nothing. Fu Ran grimaced. Before he could react, Tian Han's fingers slid back around his arm, and the glow returned as if it had never faltered.
As expected, Tian Han was as infuriating as ever.