Archive of Our Own

The room was dimly lit, as always, to protect the Tang family’s delicate senses. Heavy curtains blocked out the sun, cloaking the grand hall in muted shadows, though none of them seemed to mind.

At the head of the table sat the patriarch, his expression austere as he surveyed his kin, most of whom had long since accepted their way of life. The Tang Clan, descended from a line of vampires, had chosen an orthodox path, coexisting peacefully with the world.

The path dictated that they would mainly consume animal blood rather than human, but this method came with a price: their powers, which were a major part of their survival, were significantly weaker compared to those of the rogue vampires who relied on human blood.

Due to this, the ancestors had begun purchasing human blood, reserving it exclusively for direct descendants to maintain the family’s strength. Yet, the Tang Council of Elders had resisted this compromise for decades.

"Why do we deny ourselves when others are thriving?" they would demand, their voices echoing in the dim hall. And each time, all patriarchs would answer them the same way.

"Because we are not them, and their strength fades as quickly as it rises. We may be weaker, but we live."

The Elders had never accepted his reasoning, arguing that they could be far stronger and dominate over the central plains.  And so, generation after generation, they remained a thorn in the Patriarch’s side.

A wisp of smoke rose and slowly dissipated. At the other side of the table, a young man leaned back in his chair, a lit pipe between his lips.

"Tang Bo,” said the Patriarch. "Must you smoke right now?"

Tang Bo was a powerful specimen among them. After his first venture outside, he returned with the esteemed title of the 'Dark Saint'. He was truly a perfect model for all other members of the family, both feared and respected.

Yet, there was one significant problem.

The young man in question simply took another drag and blew the smoke out slowly. 

"It washes out the taste.”

It was no secret among them that he loathed the taste and smell of blood. But as a direct descendant, he was forced to consume it his entire life. It made him feel repulsed and nauseous every single time. 

His face would contort in disgust whenever a cup was placed before him. It was only after discovering the soothing effect of smoke that he found a way to make it somewhat bearable.

The Patriarch sighed in defeat but didn’t dwell further on the matter, and moved on.

As always, the discussion would have started off with the problem of the Tang Council of the Elderly, but today there was something else too.

"Elder Tang Ju,” the patriarch called, his voice commanding. "Have you seen it?”

The elder, a middle-aged man, lifted his gaze, his long hair falling like a curtain around his shoulders, "Yes,” he answered with a grave voice.

"What have you decided to do?”

Elder Tang sighed, weighing his words. "I do not know. They are our kin, after all.”

"They are vampires who desire to enslave the humans, what does that make them?”

"Vampires nonetheless,” Elder Tang argued, but the Patriarch cut him off.

"You are aware of how we are perceived by the rest of the world.” He slammed his fist on the table in anger. "If they succeed, they will bring destruction upon us all. I have made my choice clear.”

The elderly Tang frowned. "You would betray your kin for the sake of humans?”

"I would not call them my kin,” Tang Bo interjected as he sat up, his expression resolute. "Patriarch, leave this matter to me.”

"Very well," The Patriarch replied, pleased. "See that the world knows who eliminated them too."

Tang Bo bowed and left the hall, leaving behind a half-empty glass of blood on the table. The patriarch’s gaze lingered on it before he shook his head.

"Dispose of it,” he ordered a servant, then turned his focus to other matters at hand.

* * *

That night, a sapa vampire was rampaging through the city, terrorizing civilians. A shadow flashed above the roofs, immediately followed by another, and in a matter of seconds, they vanished into an alley.

A young swordsman, drunk and cheerful, was wandering along the streets when he stumbled upon the alley.

A tall man in a green robe stood with his back to him, his voice tinged with anger. "What makes you think you have the right to do this?”

The other man, whose face was red and bloodied, laughed. "The blood that runs through my veins is better than yours.”

"And yet,” the taller man replied with a grin, "you’re weaker than the others, aren’t you?”

He knew a vampire when he saw one and the one before him was not of the higher ranks, likely cast out or having fled from the sect they belonged to.

The drunk swordsman couldn’t help but be surprised at what he witnessed. He had seen vampires before, but never one that would protect humans from another vampire.

The man in green took a step forward and whipped out his palm. In a flash, three knives embedded themselves in the skull of the bloodied man, and the body fell lifeless to the floor.

"Ooh, that's rare," the swordsman applauded. "A vampire willing to kill its kin for justice? I thought you were all knit blooded or something."

Tang Bo tensed. He didn't notice the other person's arrival. But it was the man's words that annoyed him the most.

"Please don’t throw us all in the same pot,” Tang Bo said, turning with a clearly displeased expression. "It’s quite rude.”

He froze for a moment, taking in the sight of the newcomer. The man carried a sword, suggesting he was part of a sect—perhaps a Taoist. But that wasn't what caught his attention.

Said swordsman had an unfair appearance. Tang Bo knew he himself was considered handsome amongst his peers, but if he were up to him, the beauty of the man in front of him would be unrivaled in the world. 

Pity his mouth and personality resembled those of a bandit.

"Hahahaha, a vampire who complains about being rude? That's priceless!" The swordsman burst out in laughter.

Tang Bo’s jaw clenched as the swordsman’s laughter echoed through the alley. A few drops of blood fell from his clenched fist as he restrained the urge to pierce that mocking mouth with his blades.

Ignoring the man, he turned to the corpse and retrieved his knives. As he did, the swordsman approached and squatted to inspect the body.

Tang Bo instinctively raised his sleeve to shield his nose from the human stench, but there was none. In fact, the scent was fairly pleasant—a light, delicate fragrance that was fresh and subtly sweet.

It’s a gentle aroma, soft rather than overpowering, reminiscent of a crisp, cool spring breeze. Clean and airy, it made Tang Bo’s head feel fuzzy.

"Hmm, a sapa bastard. That's rare here," the swordsman remarked, examining the corpse. "Looks like the guys in charge of this area really slacked off, didn’t they?”

A vein throbbed on Tang Bo’s forehead as he attempted to speak but choked on his own spit instead. When had his mouth started watering?

"Well, none of my business,” the swordsman said, standing up and preparing to leave. "Anyway, you seem like someone of higher standing. I’ll let you deal with the corpse.”

Tang Bo opened his mouth to call out, but the words stuck in his throat.

The swordsman paused at the entrance and looked back, his reddish eyes glowing in the moonlight as a smile spread across his face. "Have fun cleaning up this mess, Mr. Nice Vampire.”

Tang Bo scowled at the retreating figure, irritation boiling within him. What a rude man.

As he made his way home, he still fumed over Chung Myung’s words and actions. At that moment, he vowed never to forget the drunken Taoist he had encountered in that alley.

* * *

In the grand hall of the Mount Hua Sect, three figures sat at the table.

"Sahyung, you're back," Chung Jin, a man with neatly tied hair greeted from across the table.

"Did you deal with the problem?” Chung Mun asked, his expression warm and welcoming.

"It was some sapa vampire," Chung Myung reported. "It got killed by another vampire wearing green."

"A vampire wearing green?" Chung Jin exchanged glances with Chung Mun. "Isn't that the Tang Clan?"

"It does sound to be them," Chung Mun scratched his chin. "Yan Hye, report this to the beggars."

"What for?" Chung Jin questioned.

"The Tang Clan is making an effort to prove their affiliation,” Chung Mun explained kindly. "It wouldn’t be fair for them to continue being seen as monsters.”

Chung Myung sat in a corner, all forgotten as his sect brothers went back to their work. Whatever—it wasn’t like this had anything to do with him.

And he's done enough to take a day off. Time to drink.

"I’m off!” he yelled as he bolted out of the hall, leaving his brothers behind.

* * *

The sunlight was unbearably harsh that day.

"You did very well this time,” the Tang Patriarch said as he approached Tang Bo, who lay sickly in bed. Shards of glass littered the floor, stained with traces of red.

Tang Bo bit back a hiss at the rude intrusion but couldn’t ignore the patriarch. 

"I don't know what you're talking about." 

"Your deed has spread across the neighboring cities, backed by a reputable sect.”

"A reputable sect?" The only witness to his actions had been a disrespectful bandit.

"Mount Hua."

"What?" Now this piqued Tang Bo's attention. Who was Mount Hua?

It was one of the strongest pillars of the Nine Great Sects One Union Alliance, home to the most powerful figures of the era. They were highly respected throughout Kangho. What could they possibly gain by doing such acts?

Because they were Taoists? Most sects practiced a form of Taoism, yet they looked upon his clan with disdain, despite their good deeds over the past few centuries. Surely, Mount Hua couldn’t be any different.

"So that rude guy was from Mount Hua?” Tang Bo mused. If he recalled correctly, he had seen a plum blossom on that guy’s robe.

"Good, very good,” he muttered to himself. That man hadn’t left his mind for a moment, and it annoyed him. That scent— ahem, that attitude… he had to meet him again to confirm his thoughts.

The Tang Lord watched with pensive eyes as their local esteemed Saint giggled like a madman, lost in his own musings.

"Patriarch, I'm going to Mount Hua!" Tang Bo declared and he rushed to change his clothes.

"Ah, okay," the Tang Patriarch smiled, he doesn't need to know.

* * *

"Sorry, what?" A disciple of Mount Hua looked stunned, with a hint of fear in his wide eyes as he observed their guest.

Tang Bo frowned at the reaction, "I'm here for a swordsman with really dark hair and red eyes."

The other disciples who overheard their conversation appeared to be just as appalled. A few even whispered to each other.

"Don’t scare our guest. If he wants to meet a Taoist from Mount Hua, then you should treat him accordingly,” an older man intervened. "Let the Sect Leader know he’s here.”

"But Sasuk, he's here for him," one of the disciples complained. "Shouldn’t we—”

"That is exactly why we must inform the Sect Leader as fast as possible." 

"Yes, Sasuk!” the disciples chorused, hurrying off to relay the message.

Tang Bo squinted at the group that seemed to be in a rush. Was he really so unexpected? e had come without any hostile intent and had been nothing but polite.

"Why is everyone gathered here?” a tall man asked as he joined them. Tang Bo recognized him instantly; it was impossible not to. It wasn’t until he set foot on Mount Hua that he recognized the familiar scent.

Plum blossoms.

"Hello again, it hasn't been long," Tang Bo greeted him with a respectful bow.

"Hm? Who are you?"

"…We met a couple of days ago,” Tang Bo replied, watching as the swordsman showed no signs of recognition.

The swordsman crossed his arms and pondered for a moment. A lit candle appeared over his head.

"Ah! The owner of Green Lake Inn!"

"..."

Tang Bo's body shook, yet he maintained his posture. "The nice vampire." 

"The nice vampire?"

"So you have called me a couple of nights ago."

"Oooh!" The guy nodded in realization. "The one from the alley, right."

Tang Bo could only stare at the man before him. Was he pretending to be dumb or had he truly forgotten? Which was worse? And how rude!

"What's your name?"

"...I am Tang Bo of the Tang Clan."

"You came all the way here to meet me just because we met by chance a few days ago?"

Tang Bo hesitated, unsure how to answer.  Because, well, yes, that was exactly why he came. Ah, but there was another reason. 

"I heard that the strongest person in Kangho is from Mount Hua. If it's no bother, I'd like to test my skills."

The swordsman sighed loudly. "How bothersome. Let’s finish this quickly.” He unsheathed his sword.

"We're late…" Chung Mun and Chung Jin exchanged regretful glances.

Tang Bo blinked in confusion. The strongest swordsman was this guy, who wandered around drunk with bandit-like manners?

"Hey! Why are you just sitting there? I'm busy, you know?"

His sect brothers held back their complaints. 

"Ah,” Tang Bo fumbled, momentarily forgetting his manners before bowing again. "The Dark Saint, Tang Bo of the Tang Clan, requests a spar.”

The breeze blew lowly, but there was no reply.

"..."

"Myung-ah.” Chung Mun called the swordsman’s name in an exasperated tone.

"Tch.” The swordsman responded with a half-hearted bow. "The Plum Blossom Sword Saint, Chung Myung of the Mount Hua Sect, accepts the spar.”

Tang Bo lifted his head, burrowing his hands in his sleeves. "I will not be using poison." Due to their vampiric powers weakening, they resorted to using poison and since then, it was required that they would announce the use of it before each fight.

Well, Tang Bo wasn't one to use poison either way.

And thus, the two began their spar.

Swish!

A dagger cut through the air sharply, yet Chung Myung barely made any effort to block it. The first throw was either mocking or testing him.

But he did not hold back.

The air shook with the clash of steel, and Tang Bo’s arms shook violently as he blocked the blade with his daggers. His arms trembled violently, as if he had a fever, and beads of sweat rolled down his forehead. Yet his face remained calm; he hadn’t revealed any of his true skills yet.

Jumping back to create some distance, he threw another knife, this one infused with Qi. Then he pulled two more daggers and threw them in opposite directions. None hit, as the Sword Saint swiftly dodged all of them.

But Chung Myung didn’t have time to react, as a third dagger was already flying toward his heart. This one, he couldn’t dodge.

With a grin, Chung Myung brought his sword up to deflect it. The dagger stuck on his sword as if he planned for it and he whipped the blade.

The dagger flew back toward Tang Bo, who was left gaping at the swordsman.

"Oh? You’re not all talk.” Chung Myung chuckled, dragging his sword behind him before rushing forward at full speed. A trail of pink mist followed in his wake, and Tang Bo barely managed to dodge the blade by a hair’s breadth.

Chung Myung's grin did not flatter.

Suddenly, a small flower bloomed at the tip of the sword, which then exploded into a flurry of petals. Tang Bo let out a surprised squeal and hastily scrambled out of range. Yet, small cuts still littered his robe, some even scratching the skin.

Those were Mount Hua techniques—beautiful but deadly.  No wonder that among all sects and clans, only the Tang family and Mount Hua were often compared to the evil sects.

But Tang Bo still had an ace up his sleeve, almost literally.

Five Successive Lightning Strikes—one of their family’s eleven dagger techniques. It pierced most opponents in an instant, yet it required immense power to wield effectively in battle.

For Tang Bo, it was no sweat. In one second, a dagger flew through the air, then each followed faster than the other, closing in on the target simultaneously.

Chung Myung was quick to react and unsurprisingly any longer, every dagger was intercepted by a barrier of pink petals—the Plum Blossom Barricade.

The sword faltered and his eyes widened. Behind them all, a sixth dagger materialized—one he had no time to block. But he was Chung Myung, the Sword Saint; his reflexes were faster than his thoughts.

His head leaned back instinctively and he staggered for a moment before kicking off the ground and leaping toward Tang Bo. With a flick of his wrist, his sword soared toward Tang Bo's heart.

A grin spread across the man in green's face, and a collective gasp echoed around them as a twelfth dagger slipped from the Dark Saint's sleeve. This was his true ace.

The Tangs were only known to carry eleven daggers. Whispers of the Dark Saint's genius had circulated, but to devise his own technique?

After expending all his eleven daggers, any opponent would surely be caught off guard, unknowingly throwing himself thinking of victory. But at Tang Bo's hands, they would only find their doom.

The dagger clashed with the sword, tip to tip, both poised to pierce through an unsuspecting adversary.

Krr-shang!

Pieces of steel flew around, one of them grazing Chung Myung's cheek. Yet his sword stood sturdy, having no weakness present.

Ah, right. The Sword Saint was unfamiliar with the Tang techniques, and he wouldn’t drop his guard after eleven strikes; he remained vigilant, prepared for anything.

Tang Bo moved his foot back, prepared to dodge, but suddenly froze in place.

His throat constricted as a sweet, fruity scent attacked him. His eyes fixed on that beautiful crimson flowing down the swordsman's face and his heart fluttered.

Chung Myung raised his sword, ready to strike, but Tang Bo seemed oblivious to everything around him. His face flushed, eyes glassy, and drool began to slip from his lips.

Thunk!

Krack!

A thin trail of smoke wafted from Tang Bo's body and a river of blood sprouted from his head. A loud scream pierced the air, echoing through Mount Hua, causing the disciples to wince at the sound.

Contrary to their thoughts, the Dark Saint recovered as if he wasn't even hit. It was an impressive feat, even in Chung Myung’s eyes. 

The Sword Saint sheathed his sword and cleared his throat, prepared to give praise where it was due.

"Not bad—"

Big, wide eyes, strangely resembling those of a puppy, gazed up at him.

"May I have some of your blood?"

There was no warning before the next strike, no sound whistling of the blade cutting the air. The only noise was the sharp snap of wood meeting bone, and then more blood splashed.

"Ack!—Taoist Hyung-nim, spare me!”

"Sahyung… shouldn't we stop—" Chung Jin fell silent as he noticed Chung Mun, whose glare burned with murderous intent directed at their… guest.

"That bastard dared—” Chung Mun mumbled incoherently under his breath, "...to my Chung Myung. Can you believe it?”

Chung Jin immediately shifted into high gear. "Bring me the stomach pills for Sahyung!” he ordered his sect brothers, who rushed off without hesitation.

No one paid any mind to the poor vampire’s desperate cries for mercy.

With a final, dismissive flick of his wrist, Chung Myung threw a sack of flesh outside the gates and dusted off his hands. He then turned and closed the sect's gate with a resolute clang.

Hmm, he was on his way to get mooncakes, wasn't he? Maybe he'll find some good liquor to pair them with as well.

* * *

The news of the Saints' fight spread like wildfire.

"Tang Bo," the Tang Patriarch knocked at the door. It was dusk so the Dark Saint shouldn't be as grumpy as during the day.

"Come in," a voice replied from the other side, inviting him inside.

The Patriarch winced as he noticed the bandages littering their Saint's body. Was Mount Hua truly a Taoist sect if they beat him up like this? Either way, he came here to console their Saint who probably had never been this humiliated and closed himself to sulk.

Clearing his throat to gather his words, he was cut off by Tang Bo’s sudden outburst.

"How do I convince someone to let me drink their blood?"

"What— sorry?" 

"I want to drink someone's blood."

"You?"

"Yes, me."

Pause.

Let's recap.

The Dark Saint was the most powerful vampire in the past few decades, perhaps centuries. Yet he had a peculiar problem— he disliked, no he despised the taste of blood so much that he would rather die than drink it.

In fact, if not for the elders forcing him to drink blood as a child, he would never have done it. But since he was part of the main branch of the family, he had to carry on the bloodline's strength. So he reluctantly drank every drop his parents gave him, all the while battling the disgust that swelled in his stomach.

And now he was asking for blood? That Dark Saint?

A whole movie played in the Patriarch’s mind, and he began to nod, making some sense. Yes, Tang Bo must have been beaten like a dog, then tossed aside as something less than a beggar and a pretty lady took pity on him.

Perhaps this was the cure all along, love. How delightful it is to experience youth! 

"Listen carefully," the Tang Lord spoke with pride, relishing the fact that their local Saint was asking for advice. "You must first make your intentions clear through letters and poems, accompanied by a small gift to show your sincerity. Embroidered fans seem to be quite popular these days.

Tang Bo nodded earnestly, absorbing the advice with utmost sincerity that the Tang Lord almost teared up. Will there really be someone to inherit their purest blood?

* * *

"The fuck is this?" Chung Myung exclaimed in disgust as he examined the contents of the box delivered to him— by the same guy, he trashed a few days ago, no less.

Tang Bo kneeled while his eyes sparkled with anticipation. If Chung Myung were to be a little tipsy, he might even see a dog's tail wagging.

Wasn't this guy supposed to be a mosquito rat?

Ignoring the fan, Chung Myung opened one of the carefully folded letters, his expression twisting in disdain as he read the poem.

Blossoms are red,

They can be pink too.

Please give me some blood,

My dear Taoist Hyung.

P.S. Please don't beat me again, please.

"This fucker is messing with me—"

"Is it bad?" Tang Bo asked innocently.

"What?"

"The poem."

The sound of paper crumpling was the only cue before a familiar, bloody scream reached even the Hua Um village.

That night, Chung Myung was stretching his shoulders while admiring the moon when a shadow moved in the corner of his eyes. His instincts immediately kicked in and he he swiftly drew his sword.

It stopped right before the target.

A small, fluffy bat perched on a low branch.

"What's this lil' guy doing here? Are you hungry?" Chung Myung sheathed his sword and gently petted the bat with his finger.

The bat cooed happily.

"Yes, give me some blood, please."

"!??!!?"

The Sword Saint snatched the bat and hurled it away with as much force as he could muster. Yet, the bat slowed its descent with its wings and flapped back to Chung Myung.

"That's a bit rude," the bat complained. "I came to deliver another gift!"

Within its tiny claws, an expensive-looking necklace glimmered in the moonlight, fine silk threads connecting the beads.

Chung Myung took the necklace with a strange smile, while Tang Bo gasped hopefully. But then, to trample on his immense heart, Chung Myung seized the bat’s body and tied his wings with the thread.

"Ah, wait, Hyung—niiiiim!" Tang Bo yelled as he vanished into the night, flung away by an incomprehensible force.

* * *

The ability to transform into a bat wasn't common. In fact, only a few powerful individuals possessed such a skill. His form too, was majestic as far as he was aware, yet that guy had thrown him away without a second thought.

Hmm, perhaps he's doing something wrong.

Day in and day out, he poured his heart into preparing valuable offerings for a distinguished Saint—books, fabrics, herbs, teas, embroideries—yet none were ever received. 

Was he not sincere enough?

All he asked for was one itty bitty drop of blood. That haunting desire had consumed him since that day, and his body slowly began to outright refuse any other blood.

The mere thought of drinking anything other than that plum liquid made his stomach turn.

"Hmm," the Tang Lord stroked his beard, deep in thought. "That is indeed a difficult lady."

"Lady?” Tang Bo blinked, puzzled.

"Yes, are you not courting one these days?"

"No?"

"But you said you wanted to drink someone's blood?"

"Right."

The Patriarch’s thoughts short-circuited.

"Then whose blood are you trying to get?"

"The Plum Blossom Sword Saint's"

"What!?"

The Tang Lord's head fell in his hands and he sighed in despair. Perhaps Tang Bo was so powerful that his body craved only the blood of the strong. That made some sense, but good Lords, did it have to be the Sword Saint??

"Wait here,” the Patriarch said, rushing out before returning with an extravagant-looking bottle.

"Give this to the Sword Saint," he instructed. And pray to all gods that he forgives you.

"Sichuan liquor?"

"I heard that the Sword Saint enjoys drinking alcohol."

And what could fit the bill better than Sichuan liquor? Vampires have sharp tongues, so naturally their wines must match only the finest tastes.

* * *

"Back for your daily dose of beating?" Chung Myung inquired with a hint of boredom. Did that crazy guy enjoy the pain that much?

A shiver ran down Tang Bo's spine. He quickly held out the bottle.  

"N-no, I brought a gift!"

Chung Myung eyed it with curiosity. Perhaps…

"It's a bottle of Sichuan liquor. I heard it suits your taste the most, Taoist Hyung."

Chung Myung plucked the bottle from the vampire's hands and carefully uncapped it. A subtle underlying funk, reminiscent of soy or even slightly smoky notes, sharply rounded out its complex aroma.

Tipping the bottle, Chung Myung took a deep gulp with only a small trace of suspicion, but it was quickly cleared as the drink flowed smoothly down his throat. 

The finish was very light and clean, yet strong, but not lingering like some other rice-based spirits.

"Mm, not bad." He took another swig, emptying the bottle before he passed it back to the vampire. "Bring some more next time." And with that, he went back inside, shutting the door.

Tang Bo beamed, bright as the sun. Just as he had expected, Chung Myung didn’t thank him for the gift, but he was thrilled to be spared a beating—for now.

Wasn't this the first time the Sword Saint had taken an interest in any of his offerings? Isn't it a great success already?

It surely felt like a victory.

He did not stay to celebrate for long, as he immediately rushed to gather more varieties of wine. Tang Bo was determined to showcase the Tang family's most exquisite drinks.

* * *

"Chung Jin," one of the disciples wiped the sweat from his brow and asked, "Could you explain once more why we're growing garlic?"

"The Sect Leader's orders," Chung Jin replied, a soft sigh of resignation escaping him as he watched the daily ritual unfold.

"Hyung-nim!" Tang Bo waved as he rushed over to the swordsman, holding out another bottle. "This one is made from herbs that only our family cultivates."

The Sword Saint eagerly took the bottle and tasted it, his face lighting up. "This is good too!"

Tang Bo grinned at the praise and his days peacefully continued as such until one particularly hot afternoon. The sun blazed more intensely than ever and Tang Bo felt himself stagger. Their vampiric powers weakened considerably over the generations, but so did their weaknesses. 

Garlic was now merely an uncomfortable smell, while silver and wooden stakes left only scratches. The sun, once a deadly enemy, no longer burned them, but it remained their greatest weakness, especially for Tang Bo, whose pure blood made it even more unbearable.

Adding to his discomfort, it had been far too long since he last drank blood. Ah, he even forgot his purpose of tailing after Chung Myung. He got too comfortable with their casual interactions.

The ground felt like it was searing beneath his skin. When had he even fallen?

"—hey!” Muffled words buzzed in his head, but he couldn’t decipher what they were saying.

Ah, a nice shadow moved over his body. His head spun in every direction as he felt himself choke on his empty stomach.

"Fuck—"

Moments later, he noticed the ground beneath him disappearing and reappearing, now colder. The sensation was so blissful that he drifted into unconsciousness.

* * *

It was usually the hour when that rat disturbed him. Well, he was more welcome these days, finally showing some sense by bringing good liquor.

Chung Myung aired out his robe and scanned his surroundings. The world appeared distorted under a wave of heat, and even the insects were silent.

Ah, wasn't that brat a vampire? 

He wouldn't admit it in a million years, but he felt a twinge of worry.

The Sword Saint wandered along the path where they usually met, he zoned out until—

Thud!

He almost tripped over something in his way.

A familiar green robe lay crumpled on the ground—no, that was Tang Bo!

"Brat? What are you—hey!" Chung Myung squatted down, inspecting the vampire. "Are you okay?"

The Dark Saint received a few slaps over his face, but there was no reaction. His eyes were still open, yet his pupils almost covered the whole iris. His skin felt scorching to the touch.

When Tang Bo's head tilted, he let out a dry, throaty cough.

"Fuck! You should've stayed home if you're so weak in the sun," Chung Myung ignored the hint of guilt on his heart as he threw the vampire over his shoulder.

It seemed beneficial now that his house was in a forest, offering plenty of shade and a refreshing atmosphere compared to the main parts of the Sect.

He let Tang Bo fall onto the cool, aired mattress and checked his pulse. It was warm to the touch, similar to a fever.

Hmm, what had his Sahyung said about common colds? Lots of rest, food, and a wet cloth to lower the temperature.

Look at him, being such a good listener! And they kept complaining so much…

Chung Myung dropped a soaking cold towel directly on Tang Bo's forehead with the pride of a child who went to the shop and back, even if he bought the wrong items. Then he headed off to find food.

Vampires drink blood, don't they?

"What a pain in the ass!" Chung Myung yelled, startling a poor rabbit that wandered into his woods. Ah, animals had blood too.

"Chung Myung?" Chung Mun stopped his Sajae, who was carrying a live rabbit by its ears.

"Yes, Sahyung?"

"Um… Whatcha got there?"

"A rabbit."

"...What for?"

"I'm feeding an oversized mosquito."

"Ah, okay." the Sect Leader smiled, he doesn't need to know.

As if on cue, Tang Bo stirred awake just as the tied rabbit landed near his face. He hissed in annoyance at being disturbed, then shifted his gaze to the man at the door.

His expression froze for a moment before relaxing in realization. "... Sorry."

"Your kind eats this sort of thing, right?"

Tang Bo nodded quietly and grabbed the rabbit. There was so much hesitation that it was painful even for Chung Myung. It took most of his willpower to sink his teeth into the animal and his body almost immediately retched.

But the scent of Chung Myung's presence calmed his stomach.

"Thank you," the Dark Saint sincerely bowed.

"Yeah, yeah." Chung Myung waved him off. "Don't think I did this out of kindness, you brat! This is my house. If you die here, they'll think I killed you!"

Tang Bo let out a laugh as the Sword Saint dismissed him with a scoff.

"The sun is gone, go home," there was a faint trace of blush on his face as Chung Myung pointed to the door.

"The wine…"

"I got it, but the taste was boiled away by the heat. Just stay home next time. Tch, such a good drink…"

His regret was genuine, but there was still something foreign underneath.

"I'll try to come back tomorrow with two bottles."

"I told you to bring more…"

"Fine, I'll see how much I can carry."

The grin on the swordsman’s face was worth more than all the treasures of the Clan—though perhaps even their entire fortune wouldn't be enough.

* * *

True to his word, Tang Bo returned the next day at dusk, bringing five bottles with him, and as always, entered unannounced.

"You should tell the Sect Leader next time you come over," Chung Myung remarked.

"Maybe I could get a permanent guest pass?" Tang Bo replied, fluttering his eyelashes cutely, not really expecting a positive answer.

"Maybe."

The Dark Saint’s face brightened so much that Chung Myung instantly regretted his words.

"Whatever, let's drink," Chung Myung grumbled as he walked away.

Tang Bo did not follow.

"You're not coming?" Chung Myung stopped, raising an eyebrow and Tang Bo had to slap himself out of it.

"W-we?"

"Yeah—" A slight flush rose on Chung Myung’s cheeks as he quickly averted his gaze. "I'm getting bored drinking alone."

Like a duckling who found its mother, Tang Bo rushed to his side.

Based on their family's culinary reputation, he hadn't expected Tang Bo to get drunk so quickly, much less become such a chatterbox.

"And you know what the elder said?" Tang Bo complained as he poured Chung Myung another cup.

"What?" Chung Myung urged him to continue, enjoying the pleasant conversation compared to his usual solitary nights. He occasionally chatted with his Sajil about his studies, but it wasn’t the kind of talk he itched for.

"He said we're too strong to be orthodox! Does he want our family to go extinct?"

Tang Bo took another sip and let out a loud belch, getting a chuckle out of Chung Myung.

"Stupid elders, stupid rules…" the Dark Saint mumbled incoherently before drifting off to sleep.

Watching the sun rise, Chung Myung felt a surge of complicated emotions. As the colors of the sky shifted from rich purple to fiery red and then to bright yellow, he could not help but wonder.

Among all the people he’d ever dragged out for drinks, was there any other to spend this time with such cheerfulness?

This pesky kid was a real nuisance and absolutely loved to ramble on endlessly…

Tang Bo shifted uncomfortably as a ray of light hit his face. Without thinking, Chung Myung moved to block it with his sleeve.

"Tch!" he grumbled, rising to close the curtains. "How troublesome."

And so, it wasn’t long before the world began to notice the two Saints wandering together more often than not. Chung Myung would frequently drag Tang Bo out for drinks—though, in reality, it was less of an invitation and more of an excuse for Chung Myung to have Tang Bo foot the bill for his endless supply of liquor.

There seemed to be a small dilemma for Tang Bo… However, he was only deceiving himself.

In a dark room within the Tang Estate, a silhouette huddled within a rug that might have once served as a blanket. 

A sliver of light seeped through the partially opened door, intruding upon his solitude, and he responded with a low hiss. As the brightness grew, the shabby state of the room became all too visible, as if a raging storm had come and gone, leaving a trail of destruction in its aftermath.

"E-esteemed Saint?" a shaky voice called from the other side.

Tang Bo's eyes locked onto the intruder with a menacing intensity, his pupils shrinking to the size of sharp pins.

"I-I've brought your food," the servant stammered, pushing a cart toward the Dark Saint, afraid that if they were to walk themselves, they'd find their doom.

With a swift motion, the Dark Saint took several vials from the cart, lifting one to scrutinize it closely.

The air was pierced by a guttural growl, soon met with the terrified scream of the servant and the sharp crack of glass splintering on the floor, echoing ominously through the estate.

It smelled disgusting.

Disgusting. Disgusting. Disgusting. Disgustingdisgustindisgustindisgustindisgustindisgustindisgustin—

Tang Bo scratched his scalp, his body aching for blood, yet paradoxically recoiling at the very thought of it.

I can't.

I need to.

I can't.

I need to.

I can't.

I need to.

I—

"Hyung-nim…." he doesn't know why the swordsman suddenly cut through his thoughts. The herbs he usually smoked were of no use anymore. Their effect diminished with each passing day… but, there was one.

One scent that managed to help him every single time.

"Hyung-nim," he whined again.

Yeah, he can help. His Hyung can help.

In an instant, he transformed into a bat and tore through the sky, with only one destination in mind.

Hyung-nim!

There! Under a tree, sleeping lazily while skipping practice.

His thoughts no longer worked and he crashed right into that bulky chest, instantly prompting him to revert to his human form.

"Hey! What the hell are you—"

Ignoring all words, Tang Bo grabbed Chung Myung's shirt and buried his face in it, trying to absorb the comforting scent without touching skin.

"I'm sorry, Hyung-nim," Tang Bo's hoarse voice trembled. "Just for a little bit."

Chung Myung blinked his sleep away with a concerned glance. "Did you get sick again?" Cupping his face, it did indeed feel hot, feverishly similar to that one time.

Tang Bo shook his head, and the motion made the world spin, threatening to make him puke his empty guts out. "I-I'm fine."

Chung Myung snorted in reply.

"I just need…" Tang Bo glanced around in a daze "...blood?" He searched his sleeves and then looked all around him.

"Ah…I forgot…." Tang Bo collapsed in despair, but luckily, strong arms caught him.

"Oi!"

"Hyung-nim…"

"Should I bring you another rabbit?"

"It won't work…" Tears welled in Tang Bo's eyes. He would definitely starve at this rate, but not before turning into a mindless beast.

A brief memory flickered in the Sword Saint's mind. "...Do you need my blood?"

Long moments passed before Tang Bo registered the words. "What?"

"...I know you heard me."

"Is that okay?"

A silent plea overwhelmed his tone.

"If it's just a little…" Chung Myung rolled up his sleeve and unsheathed his sword. There was a second or two of hesitation before he made a swallow cut—large enough to spill some blood, yet harmless for him.

With every ounce of control he had left, Tang Bo leaned forward, his body shaking as he licked the dripping crimson liquid. It flowed toward the injury, and he gently pressed his lips against it, careful to avoid contact with his teeth.

A soft moan bloomed in the back of his throat as Tang Bo tasted more of that sweet, fruity plum-like taste, only a thousand times sweeter. He felt like he'd been saved by a merciful god who offered him the most divine elixir.

He was glad he was already lying down when a shiver ran down his spine, causing a groan to escape his lips. The flavor was so good that his knees buckled under the sheer pleasure of it.

He sucked more and more and— he couldn't get enough of it!

Tears flowed down his face as a handful of his hair was suddenly grabbed, yanking him back from the molten nectar. Animal-like pitful whines escaped his lips until a voice brought his mind back from the blissful whiteness.

"I said only a little! Bastard, were you going to suck me dry?" Chung Myung yelled, irritation lacing his voice alongside something else...

"Are you a leech or something? No, you're definitely a damned bloodsucking leech."

"Ah…ah!" The realization finally dawned on Tang Bo and he slammed his forehead to the ground. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Hyung-nim!"

Color barely returned to his face, yet he palled again. 

Yes, he had come for blood initially, but after spending so much time with Chung Myung, Tang Bo yearned for a long-lasting friendship with this man. He hoped this incident wouldn’t ruin it. If it didn’t, then the other problem in his pants certainly would.

"I'll send a cart of wine as an apology! Please forgive me!" Tang Bo did not meet the swordsman's eyes and quickly transformed into his bat form, flying away.

He didn't get far.

Dragging himself under a tree, he focused on sensing nearby presences. 

Nothing. Good.

Bringing a hand to his face, he felt warm liquid dripping down. His nose was bleeding, but it wasn’t from the ground slam.

Tang Bo collapsed against the tree and glanced at the tent in his pants. He recalled other vampires speaking of human blood as a source of pleasure, but was it always this… satisfying, exhilarating?

But what he had tasted… He couldn’t forget the sweet, fruity flavor and intoxicating aroma. The euphoric rush of power was something he could only dream of experiencing again.

"Ahhhh… Taoist Hyung, it hurts…" Tang Bo moaned, letting his robe slip down.

How pure must your blood be to reduce me to such state?

His hands found their way down to his throbbing need, and he slowly began to work his rut. His senses heightened; every sound and movement around him felt amplified—  louder, faster. He felt more alive than ever before.

"Hyung… Hyung… Taoist Hyung! Ahh—!" His fingers quickened as he spoke the name of his tormentor, intensifying his pleasure. Tang Bo moaned loudly, stroking himself as he drew out the sensations.

"Hyung, you're making me feel so good. You're giving me the best blood, you're—"

His moans echoed through the forest until the moment he found his release, collapsing back against the tree, utterly exhausted.

His fingers were smeared with a sticky white liquid, and he let out a sigh of relief mixed with resignation.

I'm so sorry, Hyung-nim.

But I want more.

Had he focused a little more, he could've heard the sweet voice of the one haunting his itches.

Chung Myung brought his arm to his face, trying to hide his shame from the heavens.

Since when did having his blood sucked feel so strangely pleasurable? He loathed that he enjoyed it and nearly forgot to pull that leech off.

"Fuck…" he breathed out, peeking down at his cum stained hand.

And so, the Sword Saint found himself ensnared in a blood-sucking relationship. Days passed, and their connection deepened subtly—though, in truth, it felt more like a return to their beginnings.

* * *

"Please!" 

"No, go away!"

The disciples watched with astonishment at the audacity of the vampire, who had returned to begging daily, just as he had at the beginning.

"Just a little, it doesn’t have to be direct contact…"

"I said no!"

"Please please please, pretty please, I can't drink anything else!" 

"Then die!"

" Please! "

Tang Bo fell to his knees, grasping Chung Myung’s legs.

"Just one drop?”

"No.”

"Are you really going to leave me to die?”

The Dark Saint sobbed quietly, and for a moment, Chung Myung believed he might really start to cry.

"Aaah! Fine," Chung Myung scowled, begrudgingly dragging the bloodsucker back to his secluded house.

He made another cut, letting the crimson liquid flow into a cup.

"There!” Chung Myung exclaimed, handing it to the vampire, who took it with utmost care and slurped the contents.

"It’ll cost you a few more bottles of wine,” Chung Myung remarked casually, watching as Tang Bo licked the cup clean.

"Of course,” the vampire replied eagerly. "And you should come for a visit too~”

"I am not going to be your wine bottle!" Chung Myung scoffed.

"I mean, if you visited, I wouldn't have to carry just a few bottles, you could drive through my reserves.”

Chung Myung perked up at the invitation. Truly not a bad offer.

"I'll see if I have time."

They had become akin to friends with benefits—not with the exact meaning, but more like a mutually beneficial arrangement. Chung Myung provided blood, and Tang Bo offered liquor.

However, some of their sect brothers sensed something more between them, and in reality, there was.

Like the way Tang Bo would sneak glances at Chung Myung during dinner.

Like the way Chung Myung would always set an extra place for his partner at the table, as if his presence were a given.

Like the way they both thought of each other when no one was around, and the world seemed to pause when they were together.

It was until one day specifically, that Chung Myung grew tired of cutting himself.

"Hey Vampbo," he called and the vampire lit up to attention. "No need to cut, just drink it like this."

"What?"

"I know you heard me."

"Like this?? With no cup or…?"

"Just sink your damn teeth in."

"?!@?!?" 

Tang Bo panicked. Was this some form of test? Or maybe he was still dreaming? Yeah, that had to be it. 

But in truth, they both desired this moment. Tang Bo for obvious reasons, and Chung Myung because it confused him.

"Just…don't overdo it this time."

Tang Bo took a deep breath, swallowing hard as he put on a facade of calm, even as his heart raced.

"I sw-swear I w-won't," there goes his cool act.

Gripping Chung Myung's arm, he positioned it better and then hesitated at the last second.

Chewing his lips, he whispered a gentle apology before sinking his teeth into the skin. And as the sweet liquid touched his tongue, he moaned deeply. "Uhm…Ahhh…"

How he missed it.

How he longed for it.

How he fantasized about it for days on end.

The plum blossom fragrance intensified, making Tang Bo dizzy, as if he were intoxicated by alcohol. He quickly shook his head to clear his thoughts and instead focused on Chung Myung's reaction…

The Swordsman had his eyes closed, but his expression was far from the calm and stoic demeanor Tang Bo knew. A slight flush adorned those plum cheeks as Chung Myung muttered something under his breath.

Chung Myung was lost in thought. He was right about the slight stimulant effect. Then it means he wasn't in love, right? 

But…

Was it wrong to want this feeling to persist a little longer?

As his eyes opened, he looked down to find his little leech happily drinking his blood, content like a baby suckling at its mother's breast.

Slurp, slurp~

This time, Tang Bo let go on his own. A pang of regret twisted in his gut, but he ignored it, unaware that Chung Myung was going through a similar experience.

"I'm s-sorry..." Tang Bo mumbled.

 "I told you it would be fine," Chung Myung retorted, dragging his hand across the wound.

He wasn't bleeding that much, and he didn't seem to mind the injury.

"Well, I'm still sorry."

"I've got to return to practice," Chung Myung said as he stood up. "See you later."

Tang Bo nodded, watching the Taoist's back disappear into the distance.

But… when did that swordsman truly ever practice?

No matter, it's better for Tang Bo, whose small problem returned. With a deep sigh, he locked his door and his robe fell to the floor. 

He hoped to acclimate to this sensation, to avoid feeling aroused whenever he consumed Chung Myung's blood.

So hoped Chung Myung.

Yes, they could think of it as training.

Nothing to feel guilty about—just a natural part of their bond.

It wasn't love.

* * *

As the days passed, they continued to drink together, and their feelings deepened before either of them realized it.

It wasn't until a certain night that they got drunk much more than usual. Tang Bo himself forgot what he was yapping about,  the words spilled out without much thought.

"—and sometimes I wish I could taste your neck too…." He trailed off, finally getting an ounce of conscience about his words. "Ah, no, I—"

Tang Bo wanted to defend himself, but Chung Myung was too distracted to pay attention to his words. 

A rosy blush crept up to the Sword Saint's eyes as he leaned forward, his head tilting adorably, while his voice remained distant.

"Hey, why aren't you doing it today?" 

"Eh? Oh!"

Tang Bo's heart swelled at the care Chung Myung had for him. "Then give me your hand."

"..."

"Hyung-nim?"

"Didn't you say you wanted to taste the neck too?"

The revered Dark Saint's mind blacked out.

Not only his Hyung actually listen to his words, but he also reacted positively? Could this be heaven??

"Then…" Tang Bo fidgeted nervously, his eyes locked on that bare neck, all waiting for his fangs.

"Thank you for the meal," he murmured just before his teeth pierced the flesh. Warm, rich blood cascaded down his throat—a delightful treat reserved solely for him.

It tasted like Chung Myung.

Ah, it was Chung Myung.

Tang Bo's moan harmonized with a new, sweeter sound that was both strange and enticing that froze the vampire in his tracks.

His eyes shifted to Chung Myung's face, who brought a hand to his mouth in a poor attempt to stifle his moans.

"Hyung-nim… does this… feel good for you too?" Tang Bo’s voice held a hopeful lilt, as if a confirmation would be a blessing from the heavens.

"Sometimes… it's weird," Chung Myung muttered, his voice deepened, his gaze half-lidded, fully drunk. The sight itself was enough to drive Tang Bo crazy.

Deciding to experiment further, he let his bites trail lower, around Chung Myung’s chest.

Without much constraint on his conscience, his Hyung was quite vocal about his feelings.

"Not—ah! There, lower…" Chung Myung moaned, directing the vampire until Tang Bo faced the swordsman’s lower half, noticing a hardness that matched his own.

Had Tang Bo been clear-headed, he might have stopped here. But his intoxicated state was ten times worse than usual and he quickly got rid of the pesky robe in his path.

Had Chung Myung fully aware, he might have halted Tang Bo there. But his euphoria only intensified with each bite, slipping his mind further as he felt the sharp prick against his thigh.

"Vampbo-yah…" Chung Myung groaned, his arousal intensifying with each passing moment of continuous stimulation.

The blood loss certainly wasn't helping.

It wasn't long until Tang Bo spared his content and decided to switch it up a bit.

Chung Myung could vividly feel the vampire's fingers around him, stroking and teasing the tip.

"Does this feel good too?"

"It's weird—aah!"

The vampire's lips enveloped his member, the heat and warmth utterly enticing, and the slow, deliberate strokes and caresses of the tongue drove him to the brink of madness.

"It's good! Ack—Wait, Bo— leech! Mnghnn—"  

Tang Bo sucked and slurped and licked and kissed, and his Hyung seemed to really enjoy it. His fingers crept to Chung Myung's buttocks, caressing them, playing with them. Then, one finger slipped in.

 "Bo—!" he cried out, but the vampire didn't stop.

If anything, it only seemed to spur him on, because the next time, two fingers entered him.

"A-Ah~ mmgnhhgh—"

It felt good, it felt too good , and despite his initial shock, Chung Myung couldn't resist the pleasure. He felt as if his whole mind was being pulled out of his body.

"Mnghn… ahh~ ngh—"

It wasn't long before Tang Bo added a third finger.

"Bo-ya! Aah—!"

Chung Myung came quickly, his legs quaking. His spent seed filled Tang Bo's mouth and dripped down from his lips, his cheeks flushed red. But the vampire still didn't let go of him, content with drinking all of him instead.

Body fluids too, were a source of life force.

Tang Bo retreated with a radiant smile, looking as if he had just claimed the world’s biggest lottery win, and maybe he really had.

"You taste absolutely divine, it’s no wonder I’ve become completely addicted."

Chung Myung breathed heavily as the words brushed his ears. There were no words he could find as his tongue twisted with more pleasure. The fingers inside him never left his overstimulated body to rest.

"Hyung-nim, Hyung-nim," Tang Bo moaned, unsure himself of what he wanted to do. "I need more of you. " His eyes roamed over the swordsman's naked body.

There was a strange, insistent urge swelling in Tang Bo's groin as he tickled Chung Myung's belly. Pulling out his own throbbing shaft, Tang Bo experimentally pressed it close to Chung Myung's length.

The interplay of their skin tones created a beautiful contrast, glistening enticingly with the blend of saliva and cum adorning it.

Tang Bo felt like a dog in heat, rubbing himself on Chung Myung's flesh.

But he couldn't get enough of it.

More.

He needed more.

"Hyung-nim," he leaned forward and cupped Chung Myung's face, prompting the other to focus whatever mind he had left on his words. "I want to go inside."

"..."

The silent hesitation gave Tang Bo the relief that Chung Myung was still present and this wasn't him abusing his Hyung's state.

"Please, I need you so badly . I want your heat to squeeze me so hard that I wouldn't be able to bear children ever in my life."

Tang Bo could have just continued his actions, but he couldn't find it in his heart to betray Chung Myung so.

"It hurts so badly, Hyung-nim. Please , I want it, I need it."

Chung Myung’s cheeks were painted in the prettiest pink. His mind was filled with the pleads that poured like prayers.

A vampire must be invited to enter inside. 

"…Do it."

The two words sent Tang Bo's thoughts soaring into the sky.

He couldn’t quite recall how he was able to flip the swordsman onto his side or when he lifted one of Chung Myung’s legs.

But he vividly remembered his fat cock sliding inside the tightest hole ever made, accompanied by the cries and tears shimmering in those gorgeous eyes.

Crimson, like blood itself.

Were they sure Chung Myung wasn't the vampire among them?

A particular whimper made Tang Bo furrow his brow.

His Hyung was in pain. He didn’t like that.

No amount of foreplay could prepare that sinful body from being so cramped around his cock. Squeezing as if trying to extract juice from a fruit.

Then…

Tang Bo licked the base of Chung Myung's neck then nibbled down, and similarly to a mosquito, he inserted his aphrodisiac toxins in exchange for a small taste of blood.

This only caused Chung Myung to tighten even further around him, driving Tang Bo wild as he began to thrust. The sound of their flesh slapping together filled the air.

"Hah… hahh… nghhhnn— gah!"

Slap slap slap slap~

There was no way to tell which of them burned with greater intensity.

Tang Bo shifted for a better angle, prompting a howl out of Chung Myung.

"Deep— it's so deep!" Chung Myung somehow found words but was soon reduced back to raw, primal moans.

"Hahh! Ahh~ MwAahh!"

Chung Myung felt like he was on the verge of coming again, but couldn't find an ounce of strength to reach his own spent member.

His breath hitched, and his voice deepened further, panting as if he had just run for days, but Tang Bo just wouldn't stop. Not yet.

Not when Chung Myung could still take more.

"Aah~ Hyung, Hyung— you feel so good!"

His words were laced with the utmost truth and it only drove Chung Myung to blankness as he gripped and stroked the bed sheets.

Tang Bo pounded him even faster, his moans becoming cries of their own as he drew closer to his climax.

"Hyung— Hyung— Hyuung! "

Tang Bo came hard, the head of his cock pressing against the sensitive spot, and Chung Myung tightened around his member as if milking him dry. He too, released a second time.

Their parts slapped together one last time.

Tang Bo collapsed next to Chung Myung like a dead man. He had never known such pleasure existed, and he felt as if it would be wrong to continue on this earth after experiencing it.

"Hyung-nim, I'm sorry."

Tang Bo didn't know what he was sorry for. For pushing Chung Myung that far? For taking him for his own pleasure? For coming inside him?

….

Chung Myung lay there, feeling as if his mind was completely gone.

Maybe, he was also addicted to the vampire.

"...."

Tang Bo could feel his member softening inside Chung Myung, but the swordsman remained quiet.

The silence unnerved Tang Bo. But the sound of Chung Myung's soft snores eventually filled the room.

Chung Myung seemed fine and well, maybe it was best to let him rest in peace.

Tang Bo doesn't remember falling asleep. He wonders how much he slept to feel so rested as he tried to sit up, but his limbs seemed to be pressed down by another familiar body.

"Hyung-nim?" 

Noticing the bites littering Chung Myung's skin, Tang Bo froze, and when he realized what was going on, he snapped out of his trance to see that it wasn't just a bite, but that he had literally fucked Chung Myung while feeding.

And their bodies were still connected.

………..

That night was the first time they ever slept together…

Oh fuck, Chung Myung was going to kill him.

For the first time ever, he woke up in a good mood. Chung Myung was his antidote, his drug, his—

What is he going to do without this man?

Tears welled up in his eyes and he choked on a sob at the thought of Chung Myung hating him.

"This leech bastard!" Chung Myung suddenly rose from his sleep, wincing at the pressure still present in his stomach. Tang Bo flinched and pulled out quickly.

"Ack— slower you idiot!" Chung Myung caressed his abused buttocks and glared at the guilty party crying as if he were the victim. "You fucked me, why are you also the one crying?"

"I-I'm so sorry, hyung-nim!"

Tang Bo crawled toward Chung Myung and fell into his arms. He buried his face in the crook of Chung Myung’s neck and started wailing as he inhaled that comforting, familiar scent unique to the swordsman.

"You're going to leave me aren't you?"

The ridiculous question caught Chung Myung off guard.

"The fuck is this crazy bastard talking about? Are you still drunk?"

Chung Myung tried to pry Tang Bo’s arms off his waist, but as he felt tears wetting his skin, he sighed, resigning himself to the clinging grip.

"I can't live without you." Literally.

Chung Myung sighed, but his heart softened a bit.

Gently tilting Tang Bo's chin, he met those hopeful, pleading eyes.

"Vampbo-yah, look at me."

Gently tilting Tang Bo's chin, Chung Myung met those hopeful, pleading eyes.

At those precious puppy eyes, a brief, encouraging smile crept onto Chung Myung’s face—just before he raised his fist and let it land with a solid smack on Tang Bo’s head.

"Yah! You idiot! You think I couldn't have pushed you off and killed you yesterday if I'd wanted?”

"Owww…  Ack—wait, put your fist down! Aren't you a Taoist?" Tang Bo cried, clutching his head as Chung Myung raised his fist once more. 

Tang Bo tried to crawl back, only to slip on the sheets, ending up bonking his head on the floor.

"Pfft—" 

Chung Myung broke into laughter at the sight of the fearsome vampire scrambling like a newborn fawn.

Tang Bo’s cheeks burned more from the melodic sound of those giggles rather than from his own embarrassment. He's sure he left most of his dignity at the gates of Mount Hua.

"So… what does this make us?" Tang Bo tried to avert his gaze, but his eyes kept drifting back to Chung Myung.

"I don't… I'm not sure." Chung Myung replied sincerely.

"...Do you want to date?"

Tang Bo wasn’t sure where his sudden courage came from, but he knew he couldn’t stay "just a friend” any longer.

Chung Myung stared at him quietly, then gave a slight shrug.

"Then…” Tang Bo hesitated, gathering himself before softly asking, "Do you want to try?”

A single head movement sent Tang Bo's heart fluttering so violently that he could have sworn he was having a heart attack. He knew he was blushing, but he couldn't help the heat he felt and the bashful expression that took over his face.

"Sure." Chung Myung's reply burned in Tang Bo's heart.

Their first date was at a tea house, where they ordered every variety on the menu, and they both ended up with a plate all to themselves.

The second time, they went to an inn, which Tang Bo thought would be awkward, but Chung Myung didn't say anything and it turned out to be the opposite.

The third date was also at an inn.

As for the fourth… well, that’s how they ended up here.

Tang Bo sighed at the thought.

His Hyung was an addict—and so was he.

He had never loved Chung Myung more.

* * *

**Epilogue 1 - Tang Patriarch's POV**

Vampires have always been something separated from the normal society. The Dark Saint even more so.

From his birth, he has been unique even among their species. His blood is remarkably pure, and at just twenty years old, his strength already outmatched that of the elders.

But his great power came with a heightened sensitivity to their oldest weaknesses. 

Sunlight, in particular, put him in a foul mood, making him irritable and hostile, sending anyone who approached him running in the opposite direction.

So the Tang Patriarch's surprise was of no surprise when he spotted Tang Bo smiling like a child on his way to play with an undeniable spring in his step, in the middle of a summer day.

……

"…Tang Bo?” the Patriarch ventured cautiously, half-suspecting an imposter posing as their revered Saint.

All his reasonable doubts crumbled as the Saint stopped in his steps to face him. His face was radiant, practically glowing brighter than the sun itself.

"Oh, Patriarch! Is there anything I can do for you?” 

The Tang Lord could swear he saw a field of imaginary flowers blooming around that unnervingly joyful smile.

"Er, no… I was merely curious if there’s a reason for your… disposition today?”

"Oh, just… it’s such a beautiful day, that’s all," Tang Bo replied with an airy hum.

Tang Bo?

Was this really Tang Bo?

"Riiight… are you headed somewhere?”

"I'm answering the call of my half that’s waiting." Tang Bo answered with an unusual softness before turning back toward his path.

The Patriarch felt his mind twist through impossible mathematical calculations before blanking entirely.

Whatever.

"Have a great time," the Lord expressed warmly, nodding politely and walking off, gaining enlightenment.

There are things in the world that vampires were not meant to comprehend.

* * *

**Epilogue 2 - Chung Jin's POV**

"Sect Leader Sahyung, where have you been?" Chung Jin greeted his older martial brother.

"To Shaolin! Where’s Myung-ah?” Chung Mun asked in a rushed tone.

"Huh? Oh, he’s—”

"I'm right here," Chung Myung chimed in, appearing from behind.

Chung Mun’s eyes lit up as he reached into his sleeve, pulling out a bulky cloth bundle and handing it over. Chung Myung’s curiosity turned to a scowl as he unwrapped it, revealing a freshly forged silver Buddha statue.

"Sahyung… what is this?”

"It's for your own good, just carry it with you—"

"Hyung-nim! I’m sorry for being late!” Tang Bo materialized, breathless and with an apologetic grin.

"Vampbo! You leech bastard, how can you be late when you can fly?"

"But Hyung-nim, I had two bottles of wine to carry.”

"You have two claws, don’t you?”

"They’re…small…”

"Tch! That’s because you’re lazy. You should train more.”

You're one to talk. Chung Jin thought with a sigh then turned to his eldest Sahyung.

Huh, he could swear there was a fire burning nearby.

"It didn’t work…” Chung Mun muttered darkly under his breath, clenching his fists. "Those bald frauds—Chung Jin!”

"Y-yes?"

"I'm going away again, take care of the sect!"

"W-wait, Sect Leader—"

But Chung Mun was already gone.

In the midst of this commotion, Tang Bo had somehow ended up with three overlapping bumps on his head as Chung Myung dragged him away.

"..."

Chung Jin's gaze turned to the sky.

The clouds drifted lazily across the sky, while a gentle breeze rustled the trees, creating a soothing woosh sound. 

And so, Chung Jin reached enlightenment.

There are things in the world that humans were not meant to comprehend.