Erha Quotes

Two lifetimes, they belong to you. No regrets.

It wasn't that he didn't care for those around him, only that he did it quietly. Such solitude, day after day, without anyone to see or notice, was also a kind of torment.

The thanks isn’t just for the wontons. Thank you also, in both this lifetime and the last, for being the only person to never look down on me,

Chu Wanning had spent two-and-a-half million… On sweets…

How could he have guessed that Chu Wanning was actually so kind to him… That Chu Wanning’s lingering regret in the living world was him.

MY HEART HAS STILLED, and my thoughts turned to ash / Yet unexpectedly, the light of spring shines through the cold night. / Could it be that the heavens pity the blade of grass in the secluded valley? / Yet I fear that the world is unpredictable and full only of hardship.

No, Mo Ran. Think about it. Let go of your vicious hatred and look back properly. He once trained you in cultivation and martial arts, trained you in the art of self-defense. He once taught you how to read and write, taught you poetry and painting. He once learned how to cook just for you, even though he was so clumsy and got cuts all over his hands. He once… He once waited every day for you to come home, all alone by himself, from nightfall…till the break of dawn…

Mo Ran was categorically a piece-of-shit jackass, but the sixteen-year-old budding jackass of his previous lifetime simply couldn’t compare to the thirty-two-year-old veteran jackass of the present. This guy grew more shameless with each passing day.

His heart raced in his chest, and his palms were covered with sweat, humiliated by his loss of self-control. He really had been alone for too long, if he could mistake a tiny sliver of kindness and care from someone for sincere tenderness. Like an idiot.

Chu Wanning! You think you’re so tough?! Watch me fuck you to death!

A misunderstanding of one year is a misunderstanding. A misunderstanding of ten years is an injustice. A misunderstanding of a lifetime, from life unto death, is fate.

Unfortunately, it was too late. They watched helplessly as three characters written in exquisite and powerful calligraphy slowly appeared on the silver handle of the willow vine. Ah! Jiangui: What the Hell. The holy weapon “Ah! What the Hell?!

Chu Wanning! This venerable one wasn’t wrong to treat you the way he did in his previous life! Even after coming back to life, the mere sight of you is still aggravating! Fuck all eighteen generations of your ancestors! Chu Wanning was unaware that his beast of a disciple was going to fuck all eighteen generations of his ancestors.

I'm sorry, I was wrong to hate you.

Shizun”. His voice broke. ”Let's start over from the beginning, okay?

all that came out, soft and slightly hoarse, was: “I’ll wait for you.

Did you know the most wonderful dreams are rarely ever real?

Chu Wanning held him, caressing his hair as if still in a dream, and sighed softly once more. "Did you know the most wonderful dreams are rarely ever true?" Then he pulled away, the hug swiftly finished, like the light touch of a dragonfly on water.

So what if you have money?” Chu Wanning snarled. “Does money allow you to flip right and wrong, to repay kindness with cruelty? Does money let you do whatever you want and break all your promises?

Chu Wanning was struck utterly speechless. He opened his eyes, and the blood that had been frozen in his veins began to circulate again. For a while, he didn’t know what to say as he stared silently at Mo Weiyu, who stood by the bed with a complicated expression. Then, slowly, a clear verdict formed in Chu Wanning’s gaze: Moron.

He murmured, “Three thousand, seven hundred and ninety-nine.” He had counted as he walked. That was the number of steps up to the main gate, the number of steps that Chu Wanning had climbed that day, carrying him on his back. He was certain that for as long as he lived, he would never forget Chu Wanning’s hands, cold as ice, chafed raw and bloody.

It hurt too much, holding someone in his heart like this, hidden carefully in the very depths of his thoughts. It was fine if that person didn’t like him, as long as he could think about that person quietly and protect them silently. It was fine if he couldn’t have that person. All of it was fine.

Chu Wanning’s thick curtain of lashes swept downward. “I like it,” he repeated quietly. “No one’s ever taken care of me like this before.” He lifted his eyes to glance at Mo Ran. When he spoke again, it was earnestly: “Thank you very much, Shixiong.

The sight of this face was all Xue Meng needed to confirm his suspicion—Mo Ran had poisoned himself

Fucking Chu Wanning.

Who else could it be? Who else could it be?! Depraved! Despicable! Disgusting! Obscene!” Mo Ran sighed. “That doesn’t alliterate.

In his last life, he had been a destroyer. In this one, he wanted to be a protector.

That as the days had passed, I’d grown into the you I held in my heart.

Where his shizun was, there was a flame. Where Chu Wanning was, there was light.

The honest truth was that he feared he'd offer up his warm, beating heart to someone, only for them to casually set it aside to cool.

A misunderstanding of one year is a misunderstanding. A misunderstanding of ten years is an injustice. A misunderstanding of a lifetime, from life unto death, is fate. Their fate was blighted.

Xue Meng burst out laughing, tilting his head back to look at the dim ceiling. ”Mo Ran, in all of Sisheng Peak, he was the one who thought most highly of you. And this is how you've repaid him.

Reckless affection and passionate, obsessive entanglements, these things only grew in the soil of youth. When Chu Wanning was young, he’d also hoped there might be someone who would stay by his side, with whom he might share wine beneath the moon, but he’d waited and waited, and still this person had never arrived.

Especially for Chu Wanning, it was as if an entire jar of vinegar had toppled over inside his chest, the sour taste of jealousy swelling without stop, getting under his skin. Sorry? How do you write sorry? Someone more apologetic, please teach him.

Ever since, holding onto the resentment he felt that grew by the day, he'd kept provoking Chu Wanning in attempts to get his attention, his praise, his astonishment. During that time, if Shi Mei had praised him with "well done", he would've flown into the sky with happiness. But if Chu Wanning had been willing to give him a "not bad", he would've gladly given his life.

His spiritual energy was completely drained. He was no different from an ordinary person at that time. He couldn't use a single technique, not even a simple communication spell. He could only carry you on his back and climb up the stairs of Sisheng Peak, step by step. And when he couldn't do that anymore, when he couldn't even stand, he had crawled on the ground, on his knees, dragging him until his fingers were torn and his hands covered in blood. All to bring him home.

Chu Wanning didn’t believe in love, nor in chance encounters, and he certainly didn’t want to go chasing after any such thing. If he were to arduously gnaw through the cocoon, getting cut and scraped all over in the process, and come crawling clumsily out only to find no one waiting for him on the other side—what would he do?

Next, use your left hand and pat at your right sleeve,” Chu Wanning instructed him expressionlessly. “Ooh, this action is deep and indiscernible. What move is this?” “Nothing deep and indiscernible about it,” Chu Wanning said flatly. “You were swinging too confidently earlier, and the weapon lit your sleeve on fire, that’s all.

Shizun Just Might Blue-Ball Me to Death

His shizun, who held the world in his heart.

Pay attention to me... Please pay attention to me...

You stole from me and then turned around and pretended you didn't even know me. Mo-geongzi, first you stab me, then you warn me of knives - how very considerate of you. -RongJiu

The more out-of-the-way areas had particularly forthright names like This is a Mountain, This is Water, and This is a Hole, as well as the famed Aaaaah and Waaaah Cliffs.

There were countless injustices in the world, so what was the point of caring? It was enough to exhaust a person to death.

Why wouldn’t I dare?” Chu Wanning gazed at her, unimpressed. “What ought I be afraid of?” He paused, then pulled Mo Ran closer. “Listen up: This person is mine. I’m taking him.

A lone Taxian-Jun, with no one to turn to, in an endless darkness he could barely breathe, holding Chu Wanning tightly in his arms as if he was holding the last embers of fire in this world.

To Mo Ran, that embrace within an illusion had been charity that Shi Mei bestowed upon him. Mo Ran would never, ever know that this embrace had instead been charity that he bestowed upon another pitiful soul.

Mo Ran suddenly felt nervous. He wanted to cover the box and chase away the people salivating over his food like he’d swat away annoying flies. Then he remembered that, in this life, the crispy meat didn’t belong to him.

There was no way to express the feelings close to bursting the vessel of his chest, as though there was a pool of scalding lava in his heart, trapped and roiling, slamming against the walls and bringing him pain and anxiety.

Shizun visits my dreams, for he knows I think of him often.' When Mo Ran had high fever, he dreamt that Chu Wanning brought him a spark of flame in a cold dark night. Mo Ran said 'where his shizun was, there was a flame. Where Chu Wanning was, there was light.

Chu Wanning wasn’t stupid. Even if Mo Ran didn’t say anything, it was easy to see just how much he treasured the gentle and beautiful person beside him. Why would Mo Ran ever turn his gaze toward Chu Wanning, who stood in the corner like a puppet covered in dust?

MY HEART HAS STILLED, and my thoughts turned to ash / Yet unexpectedly, thelight of spring shines through the cold night. / Could it be that the heavens pity the blade of grass in the secluded valley? / Yet I fear that the world is unpredictable and full only of hardship.

But that person’s warmth and tenderness were bestowed upon others while the only things offered to him were barbs and thorns. So although Chu Wanning held him in his heart, whenever that person moved, his heart would start to bleed. Day after day, new wounds appeared before the old ones had a chance to heal.

A-Ran, isn’t Shizun the one you should feel bad for?” Shi Mei asked softly. “He only has a small umbrella because he’s always alone. No one wants to walk with him. That’s why even if Shizun is a little strict with me at times, or scolds me a little much at others, I don’t mind. Because I remember his drenched shoulder.

From his dim and narrow perspective, Chu Wanning was like a plate of savory and aromatic crispy meat that had been placed into a filthy, broken box. Mo Ran was the only person in the entire world who had opened the box and been able to taste the deliciousness inside. He’d never had to worry about someone else finding out about this delicacy and drooling over it.

Hands full of sweet potato, Chu Wanning opened his mouth without a second thought; it wasn’t until Mo Ran had popped the warm, soft milk candy onto his tongue, the coarse pad of his thumb brushing lightly past the corner of his lips, that Chu Wanning abruptly realized that he had eaten a sweet right out of his own disciple’s hand. The tips of his ears grew bright red.

So Mo Ran endured it, and forced himself to pick up the pieces. He told himself, It doesn’t hurt, it doesn’t hurt. This wasn’t the first time he’d lived through Chu Wanning’s death. It doesn’t hurt. It doesn’t hurt… But how could it not hurt? Over three thousand steps Chu Wanning had crawled, carrying him on his back—how could it not hurt… He’d drained his very last reserves of spiritual energy, he’d given it all to Mo Ran, how could it not hurt… He had suffered an identical injury, but so as not to burden his disciple, he had adopted a heartless expression and left on his own. How could it not hurt… And in the past life, Chu Wanning had also suffered the same injury as Shi Mei. It was just that he hadn’t said anything about it. He hadn’t said, and Mo Ran hadn’t asked. He’d roared angrily at Chu Wanning, vented endless hatred on him, flung to the ground those wontons Chu Wanning, who had yet to recover from his own injuries, had worked so hard to make for him. Before his eyes, Chu Wanning had bent down, lowered his head, and then, one by one, had picked up each wonton and thrown them away. How could it not hurt… How could it not have hurt?! He had dug out Chu Wanning’s heart! How could it have not hurt?! How could it… Mo Ran couldn’t take a step further. He stood in place for a long spell, trying to suppress these feelings, trying to rescue his calm. His entire body trembled. It hurt. He buried his face in his hands, bit down on his lip, and swallowed his sobs with the blood.

What he had felt for Mo Ran before was only love, which could be kept hidden. But right now, this man felt like nothing short of a fire to him, a fire that could too easily set him ablaze like he was mere kindling, sending flames soaring up to scorch the skies. Magma that had lain dormant all this time stirred awake and stretched its limbs in the abyss deep within himself, ready to burst in a violent eruption at any time. It threatened to burn through all the reservations, dignity, and restraint on which he had always prided himself… Threatened to burn it all to ash, until there was nothing left.

Mo Ran only let the bestial savagery in his eyes slip for a moment, but Chu Wanning caught a glimpse of it. He glanced at Mo Ran’s face, his own graceful, scholarly mien completely devoid of expression. “What are you thinking about?” Shit! Tianwen hadn’t yet been withdrawn! Mo Ran once again felt the vine binding him squeeze and twist, making his organs feel like they were going to wrench into mush. He screamed in agony, letting loose the thoughts in his mind. “Chu Wanning! You think you’re so tough?! Watch me fuck you to death !” Silence fell. Chu Wanning was speechless. Even Xue Meng was dumbfounded. Tianwen abruptly returned to Chu Wanning’s palm, transforming into specks of golden light before eventually disappearing out of sight. Tianwen manifested from Chu Wanning’s essence, and it could appear when summoned and disappear at will. Xue Meng’s face was pale as he stammered, “Sh-Sh-Shizun…” Chu Wanning didn’t speak. His long, inky, delicate lashes were lowered as he looked at his own palm for a long moment. Then he raised his eyes, face unmoved other than for how it had become slightly icier than before. For a long moment, he pinned Mo Ran with a glare that said, “This beastly disciple deserves death.” Then he spoke, voice low: “Tianwen is broken. I’m going to fix it.” After dropping this statement, Chu Wanning turned and left. Xue Meng wasn’t a bright child. “H-how can a holy weapon like Tianwen be broken?” Chu Wanning heard him. He turned and once again used that “this beastly disciple deserves death” gaze to glance at him. Xue Meng felt a chill run down his spine.

MY HEART HAS STILLED, and my thoughts turned to ash / Yet unexpectedly, the light of spring shines through the cold night. / Could it be that the heavens pity the blade of grass in the secluded valley? / Yet I fear that the world is unpredictable and full only of hardship.

He had regained such an opponent after having lost him. How could he not be delighted?

How could it be you?” Li Wuxin’s face was as pale as dry wax. His silver tongue that had been flapping away a moment ago tied itself into a knot as he stuttered, “We haven’t heard a word from you since you left Rufeng Sect. Here we thought you went off to wander the world; yet who knew you—you were actually down here in the muck, casting pearls before swine!” Chu Wanning snorted, his eyes cool. “You think I’m a pearl? I’m flattered.

Chu Wanning nodded. He suddenly said, “Don’t just randomly take off your clothes anymore.” Mo Ran’s face went red. “Got it.

Mo Ran didn’t know if he should laugh or cry.

After all, everyone wanted warmth. Especially a stray dog that had frozen in the bitter cold so many times that the mere sight of salted roads made him tremble in the anticipation of snow, of the coming of winter. Taxian-jun looked imposing, but only he himself knew the truth. That he was nothing but a laughable stray. A stray that had always been looking for a place that he could curl up at, a place to call 'home', but he spent fifteen years looking and he still couldn't find it. And so, his love and hate become laughably simple - If someone gave him a beating, he would hate that person. If someone gave him a bowl of soup, he would love that person. He was only so simple, after all.

The ones he despised most were those Nangong Liu. An ass-kisser who would kneel on the ground and lick another's hemorrhoid so long as there was something in it for him. Fuck. a hemorrhoid-sucker, even.

Yes, the first stirrings of his heart. When he’d come to Sisheng Peak, the person he’d fallen for hadn’t been Shi Mei, but Chu Wanning.

Mo Ran was no man of culture and didn’t recognize this something else as the feeling of being evenly matched with a worthy opponent. He only knew that from then on, he had no true nemesis in the world.

我怎麼可能不急？你們站著說話不腰痛，但那是我的師尊！我的！！！我都那麼多年沒有見到他了！我不知道他是死是活，我不知道他過得怎麼樣，我站在這裡你們以為是為了什麼？

我問你，師尊呢！！！你的，我的，我們的師尊呢？！

If I can't be wronged for you. Mo Ran and Taxian-Jun. I am willing to be scorned with you for all eternity.

This venerable one’s dear shizun really ought to take a look in the mirror.” Mo Ran’s finger slid along Chu Wanning’s cheek to rest by his ear, his eyes dark and threatening. A moment passed in silence, then he let out a cold hmph and abruptly leaned over. This lean was accompanied by a soft, searing-hot sensation as he captured Chu Wanning’s lips with his own. Caught completely off guard, Chu Wanning’s head hummed with white noise. Something in his mind seemed to…snap…

Chu Wanning wanted to look away, as if burned by the intensity of Mo Ran’s predatory gaze, but Mo Ran saw through his intentions and gripped his face before he could. “Look at me.” Mo Ran’s voice was rough and heated, shaking faintly from arousal—or perhaps something else—and filled with the craving of a beast about to devour its prey. “I said, look at me!” Chu Wanning shakily closed his eyes. This dream was far too absurd…

For some reason, the Mo Ran in this dream was wholly different from the one Chu Wanning knew. That deferential ingratiation had vanished, replaced by a domineering presence. He could distinctly feel Mo Ran’s heated breaths as he exhaled, low and rapid, animalistic desire searing like lava and threatening to melt him down, flesh and bone alike.

Mo Ran backed him into a wall, then abruptly raised a hand to strike the hard surface. The other hand closed tightly around Chu Wanning’s shackled wrist. Not without malicious spite, but also not without timid desire, he bent down to capture the lobe of an ear between his lips. Chu Wanning shuddered violently, a frightening numbness shooting up his spine and spreading over his scalp. Mo Ran’s voice was husky, his breaths heavy and oppressive. “Let me screw you, and I’ll let you have what you demand.

So really, think it over. If you’re willing, then get on your knees like a good boy and put your mouth to work. Serve me well. Then go spread yourself on the bed and beg me to fuck you.

He trembled in Mo Ran’s embrace; Mo Ran’s chest was furiously hot, so hot that it was like Chu Wanning would be burned and drowned even through the layers of fabric. He wanted desperately to struggle, but he couldn’t summon the strength.

He’s just my shizun, nothing more. Whether I like him or not is irrelevant.

He couldn’t remember anymore. Not clearly. In that life, Mo Ran had been entangled with Chu Wanning for so long that many things had become blurred at the edges. Eventually, like a beast, he had known only one thing: that Chu Wanning was his. Even if he didn’t care for Chu Wanning, he was still his to sunder and to ruin. He’d have preferred to rip Chu Wanning apart with his own hands—bite through his ribcage and tear out his organs like a beast—than allow someone else to touch him.

Your body is mine, and your life too. You want to be their fire, but I’ll take you to the grave with me. I’ll make you shine on my dead body and nothing else. I want you to rot with me. “To live or to die, neither is your choice to make…

After the initial surprise, Chu Wanning convinced himself that he had misheard. After all, Mo Ran had always called him “Shizun.” And it was one thing for Mo Ran to call him “Chu Wanning,” but to call him “Wanning”— His mind tracked back to that night at the Red Lotus Pavilion, when they had slept holding one another and Mo Ran, fast asleep, had clearly called out “Wanning,” then pressed a kiss to his lips, light as the touch of a dragonfly on water. Was it possible that, in Mo Ran’s heart, there actually was a little bit of…

Taxian-jun looked imposing, but he alone knew the truth about himself. He was nothing but a wandering stray. A stray who was forever searching for a place where he could curl up, a place to call “home.” He spent fifteen years searching and was still unable to find it. And so, his love and hate had become laughably straightforward. If someone gave him a beating, he would hate them. If someone gave him a bowl of soup, he would love them. He was just that simple, after all.

In exchange, Mo Ran had given Chu Wanning some of his own firsts as well, regardless of whether his shizun had wanted them. His first apprenticeship, his first attempt to coax someone, his first gift of flowers. His first thorough disappointment. And the first stirrings of his heart. Yes, the first stirrings of his heart. When he’d come to Sisheng Peak, the person he’d fallen for hadn’t been Shi Mei, but Chu Wanning.

But Mo Ran also thought about the way the man looked when he was curled up asleep, lonely and unassuming, like a haitang blossom that nobody cared for because it had bloomed too high on the branch. The hatred he felt aside, Mo Ran’s past life entanglements with Chu Wanning had in fact been more intimate than any he had shared with anyone else in the world. He had taken many of Chu Wanning’s firsts, regardless of whether the man had been willing. His first kiss, his first time cooking, his first time crying. And his first time. Dammit, just thinking about it made Mo Ran’s body feel hot and his blood rush downward.

In the end, this fifteen-year-old boy was as yet very young. Mo Ran tried to hold it in for a while, but ultimately couldn’t. He buried his face in his arms, curled into himself, and bawled miserably. His voice was rough and broken, hysterical and lost, pained and grief-stricken. Body wracked with sobs, he repeated the same thing over and over. “I only wanted to have a home… These past fifteen years, I really… I really only wanted a home… Why do you all look down on me? Why do you all look at me like that? Why, why do you all look down on me…?

Mo Ran, it hurts…” It hurt too much, holding someone in his heart like this, hidden carefully in the very depths of his thoughts. It was fine if that person didn’t like him, as long as he could think about that person quietly and protect them silently. It was fine if he couldn’t have that person. All of it was fine.

The scar… That scar! He had suddenly remembered that, on Chu Wanning’s chest, where his heart lay—there was a scar.

In his past life, he had never cared about Chu Wanning’s history and so had never asked how he’d acquired that scar, all the way until his death. Now, in this life, he no longer had the right to ask.

With his own hands, Chu Xun ripped open the gash in his chest, dug into his flesh, and grabbed his no-longer beating heart. Slowly, inch by inch, he tore it out. Blood dripped from the heart, which was enveloped in a golden-red flame. It was Chu Xun’s spiritual core, the last flare of light from a candle that had burned out. “Take…it…” He lifted the flaming heart and held it out in front of him. “Take it…take…it…” Droplets of blood fell only to become so many red haitang blossoms, flaring brilliantly as they drifted downward.

It’s only human to want the things we can’t have. That’s got nothing to do with age. I never had anyone to tell me bedtime stories when I was small, and I always thought about how nice it would be to have someone like that.

To get views, you'll keep on going even though you know it's wrong; you choose unscrupulous methods even when you know the consequences. Despite knowing full well the pain your actions will bring to others, you have no qualms about exploiting it for attention because you're not the one getting hurt.

You don’t know him, but anytime anything happens, he always gives me hell… He really doesn’t like me at all.” However, Chu Wanning was asleep, and these words scattered weightlessly into the silence of night without an answer, just like the misunderstandings that had coiled around them for decades and decades, and across two lifetimes.

Chu Wanning glanced knowingly at Mo Ran and mentally filed away this weak point. He figured that since he was, at present, already in a child’s body, and since Mo Ran hadn’t the slightest idea who he actually was, there was nothing to be embarrassed about. He opened his mouth again, and out came a soft, saccharine sweet: “Ge.” “…” “Gege.” “………” “Mo Ran-gege.” “Aaaaaah! Okay, okay! I’ll take you, I’ll take you! Stop saying that!” Mo Ran jumped to his feet, face bright red, and rubbed at the goosebumps on his arms. “All right, fine. Come along, then. You win, okay? You win. Oh my god.