In the forgotten cracks of a world that remembers only heroes and legends, two souls meet where the light doesn’t reach.

Xiao, the famed courtesan of a hidden pleasure house, was raised to smile, serve, and never be seen for more than his beauty.
Sujin, a quiet cultivator from a lesser-known Lan clan, walks into the wrong room—and ends up unlocking a past neither of them knew they were chained to.

He was sold.
He was silent.
They both dreamed of being someone else.

But in the shadows of grand sects and fading myths, a bond begins to form—not of glory, but of quiet rebellion.
And in that rebellion, something stolen becomes something sacred.



 Author’s Note :

This story was born from silence—of the forgotten, the unheard, and the shadows behind legends.

Though set in a world that resembles ancient cultivation realms, "Borrowed Nights" is not a fanfiction, nor is it an imitation. It is my own voice, told through characters who never had one—
A broken courtesan.
A quiet cultivator.
Two fading echoes in a world that only remembers the loudest heroes.

I’ve always admired stories like The Untamed and MDZS, but this tale is my own creation, shaped with a different ache, a different depth.

Thank you for walking into the wrong room with them.
Maybe... something right is waiting inside.

Yujin returned each evening, robes shadowed in travel dusk, wounds stiff beneath cloth.


"Did the mighty Lan flower miss my voice?"


Each time, Yujin's answer wavered between scold and silence.


In quieter hours, Xiao traced the bruise at his jaw... fading now, ghost of the slap that father‑in‑name had left.


But Yujin's gaze always hovered a breath away, never settling.


Part pride, part fear...both men wore them like armor.


One night, dusk deepening into moonrise, Xiao finally dared ask:


"Why come back at all, Lan‑Hun? Surely you have better halls to grace."


Yujin's answer tangled in his throat, clumsy as unspoken truth.


He paused, then let the mask fall: "Because silence feels colder elsewhere."


For a moment, Xiao's teasing grin vanished.


In its place: soft astonishment, like dawn catching frost.


"Don't look too pleased," Yujin cut in, heat blooming at his ears.


Beyond wine screens, laughter spilt from other rooms, painted courtesans draped in silk and secrets.


But at that small table, a breathless pause stretched...fragile as spun glass.


Later, walking the alley behind the Pavilion, Yujin caught the glimpse of his reflection in rain‑pooled stone: Cloak shadowed, hair loose from travel... a man who'd sworn to leave no trace. Yet the thought burned:


"I've left a trace... on him. And he, on me."


At Cloud Recesses, high among drifting clouds and cold stone: Lan Wangji turned at a junior's quiet report... brows knitting, but lips silent.


"The Yeyan boy returned to Yinshi. He walks closer with the courtesan."


Lan Wangji's gaze stayed on the silent flute laid before him.


His only answer: a breath so quiet it barely moved mountain air.


In fevered dream that night, Yujin saw the scarred man again.... the words striking deeper:


"Even lotus roots rot… but what of the flower it holds?"


Waking before dawn, breath ragged, Yujin made silent oath:


"Whatever stalks in shadow.... I will not let it touch him."


                          [ End of Chapter 14 ]


Chapter 14 - [ Glided Silence , Hidden Thorns ]