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The odor of humidity caused by the rain and the long ago burned sandalwood incense permeates through the room. Clouded moonlight shines through the opened wall and chilly air grazes his skin, creating goosebumps in its wake.
The paleness of the moonlight reflects his dry, sickly white skin. The faintly red glow from the incense reflects his red rimmed eyes.
“Jiujiu, please stop secluding yourself in his room, you haven’t gone out or eaten in days, everyone is so worried…. So am I. ” He can still hear Jin Ling’s begging voice, almost strained with unshed tears. Yet nothing could get to him, it sounded like a distant whisper, gone the next instant, when it had in fact been just next to him. Nothing could go through that buzzing noise in his mind, screeching at him so loudly and for so long that he was actually getting used to it.
Because Jiang Cheng hated, he hated and he hated oh so much. It was the thing that had kept him going for this long, shaping him entirely.
But he also loves, he loves oh so dearly and oh so painfully that it’s the only thing keeping him from breaking altogether.
Still, he can’t move. Hasn’t been able to for the past twenty-four hours. The calves that have been supporting his whole weight feel numb, painful, and shaky, but it is nothing compared to the agony of his heart.
The feeling is so familiar, a deep wound he has been carrying for the past twenty years or so, and yet so different, so new. A fresh stab oozing with overflowing blood through his heart and every inch of his body. He keeps smelling the sandalwood incense, hanging to it like a lifeline, telling himself that there was no way it could be over. It smells just like him after all.
Alas, the comforting and soothing presence linked to this very room isn’t here anymore. Only the ghost of a silhouette Jiang Cheng could still see when he was struggling between sleep and awakeness. Sleep is his biggest enemy, the refuge of all his inner demons and fears. He refuses to close his eyes, even if his body is begging him to get some rest. He would not. He didn’t deserve any. He was tired of having nightmares the moment he drifted asleep.
Instead, he remembered those words now embedded in his mind.
“Wanyin, my love, look at you, you are working way too hard. Come here and get some rest, alright? How about we meditate for a bit together, to calm your mind.”
“I didn’t know you could sing that well, Wanyin. Your voice is lovely. Why did you hide this talent from me?”
“I know getting married is going to be more complicated since we are both sect leaders, but can I dare hope? Let’s become husbands one day, promise me.”
“I love you, Jiang Cheng…”
At the fond memories, the loving voice he knows too well wrapping his body in a bittersweet warmth, Jiang Cheng can’t stop the muffled, broken sound of a sob escaping his lips. His throat is dry, thirsty, and it hurts. But this kind of hurt is way more manageable than the excruciating pain of grief he has been living with ever since he can remember. However, this time it had increased tenfold.
Jiang Cheng hates the world with deep, fiery wrath, but he hates himself even more.
The same, solemn voices ring in his mind, like a broken tune. He just wants to snap at them to leave him alone, but he can’t. He can’t get them out of his head.
“Zewu-Jun has died after two years of seclusion. Nothing could improve his physical condition. May he rest in peace.”
What can he do to make them leave? Does he really have to rip out his brain to let it end? He knows already for fuck’s sake!
Jiang Cheng knows that Lan Xichen would never want him to grieve his death the way he is doing right now: pathetic, dirty, eyes red from tears, throat dry from screaming and Zidian glittering in the darkness from anguish. He knows he would have wished for him to be happy and to keep going, to smile when he remembers him instead of breaking. But he can’t, he just can’t when the only person he has ever loved with his whole heart, body and mind has left and there was nothing he could have done to prevent it!
He can still feel the last kiss they shared on his lips, warm but also desperate. He can still feel the lingering, burning touches against his skin the last time they entangled together. In those kinds of moments, nothing could get through that deep happiness he felt. At that time, he felt desperately alive.
But now, his soul went along with his lover. Like when his golden core had been ripped out of him. The difference is that now, absolutely nothing could give him back his beating heart and soul. There is only numbness remaining.
It isn’t the same as when Wei Wuxian died. He knows he can’t do like Lan Wangji did, desperately calling for his beloved soul every night. Jiang Cheng doesn’t need any proof to know it.
At that, Jiang Cheng lets a pained groan mixed with hatred. He can’t bear to look or even think of them. How can they get their happy ending when Jiang Cheng can’t even get his?
The truth is, when Jiang Cheng starts to love, he loves to oblivion. Pure, endless. And it’s self-destructive when that object of his love leaves.
He wishes he could just join him in the next life this instant, but he can’t. He is still tied to this earth. Like every time he has lost someone he holds dear.
The tears crash on the wooden floor, and Jiang Cheng clutches the piece of cloth in his hands, the silk soft against his calloused fingers. A memory starts to play in his mind, at a time where he was still hopeful that everything would end well.
Despite the tiredness written all over his face, Lan Xichen’s ethereal smile decorates his lips. It looks even a bit bashful, and at that, Jiang Cheng’s heart seems to pick up in speed. His lover’s black silky hair pools around his face, making his beautiful, light brown eyes shine even more. Even after all those years, Jiang Cheng still can’t believe he has the right to say that this man in front of him was his, and his only.
Lan Xichen seems to have taken some time to find the right words. When Jiang Cheng stares some more, he realizes that this smile also hides some melancholy to it. “Wanyin I… I’ve been wanting to give this to you for a long time now, and I think this is the right moment.”
Before Jiang Cheng can process it, he sees Lan Xichen raising his arms behind his head and tug at the pristine white ribbon always sitting on his forehead. Jiang Cheng’s heart jumps in direct understanding, and in a swift motion, reaches for Lan Xichen’s arm in panic, face red. He wasn’t a fool, he knew the meaning of it.
“Wait, Lan Huan, you can’t just think of-”
The look Lan Xichen gives back is so sincere and loving it freezes Jiang Cheng mid-sentence. This gaze was given to him only. The knot is undone and the ribbon falls into his hands. Jiang Cheng stares at it like it’s the most wonderful thing he has ever seen and he gulps. “Darling, I’ve never been this sure in my life before. Please accept it.” Lan Xichen’s hands reach forward.
So many words are unspoken, but Jiang Cheng knows. This ribbon speaks for itself. He has to accept and he will. Nothing could compare to this. With shaking arms he receives the immaculate ribbon, an undying proof of love, and brings it to his chest, against his thundering heart, then looks back at Lan Xichen who is looking at him like he’s the only thing that ever mattered.
Through glossy eyes, Jiang Cheng smiles, uttering a broken ‘thank you’ and falls in Lan Xichen’s arms, kissing him as if to pour all of his feelings for him into that feverish action. The ribbon lays between their touching chests.
Devotion. Hope. Happiness. Love.
Such things don’t exist anymore because Lan Xichen isn’t here. Clutching the ribbon into his hands with brute force, Jiang Cheng stops himself from screaming in despair and destroying the whole room. He thinks he was already past the time for that, but he knows time isn’t enough to heal his wounds anymore.
His life has been broken from the start and nothing could be repaired. His few years of happiness was the only peace he could have had. He should have known that Lan Xichen’s sworn brothers meant so much more to him than he had thought.
He should have known.
This ribbon is the only token of love left by the man that has meant the world to him. Unable to support himself further, Jiang Cheng falls on the side, curling himself into a ball, the force of his balled fists drawing blood from his palms, the sound of his hiccups and sobs the only noise filling the room.
He doesn’t know how he will get through that. He is lost, and he already feels dead. He thinks about Lan Xichen’s pale face and dark dags, his pained breaths and his waist that grew thinner by the day and he should have known.
Jiang Cheng hates himself.
He hates, and he hates. And blames the world. And blames himself.
This love is gone. Forever, and will never come back. He doesn’t know what will keep him alive. He closes his eyes, tiredness taking over like a numbing blanket, kissing the ribbon against his red, chapped lips. He can hear a distant voice; it’s probably Jin Ling crashing in his room, the only other person who could help him from getting out of here. He still needs to see him grow.
He made promises, but he doesn’t know if he’s capable of keeping them.
Yet, he can hear Lan Xichen’s soft voice against his ear, faint and ephemeral. “ Wanyin, live for me. Please do that for me, let me become your strength. ”
He can feel another, smaller body hugging him, but there’s only darkness. He cannot hear, cannot see anything anymore.
Jiang Cheng can’t promise this time, but he will try. Lan Xichen always believes- believed in him.
More than anything, he can’t let his beloved down.
His voice is pitiful, strained with sadness and agony. Please, wait for me, I’ll join you, but not now. I still need to hang on… I still need to…
This is so hard, way harder than the last times, this grief more painful than a thousand swords struck at him, but he will try for him. He had given his ribbon for this, after all.
He will try for him.