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There were mornings like this.
Xie Lian would wake up with an ache in his chest. A different sort of ache from the piercing of a sword but immobilizing all the same. If a physician were to examine him, they would see nothing wrong.
And it would be true.
Physically, his body was perfectly healthy. But that didn’t make the relentless ache in his chest any less real. It didn’t throb, it didn’t pulse. It was just a constant pain that overshadowed any other sensation.
Sometimes, on days like this, it felt like the aching was going to kill him. It ground away at his soul, making even a simple task such as sitting up feel impossible. How the hell did he ever ascend as a martial god when he’d become so pathetic now? Strength and confidence used to come to him as easily as breathing but now…
Once, during his second banishment, Xie Lian had spent an entire month simply laying in the mud as rain poured off and on above him. He was grateful for the rain that hid his tears—even if no one were to see them. The cold water was a distraction from the aching that overwhelmed him.
Since marrying Hua Cheng, Xie Lian had been encouraged to eat better. But days like this—he fell back into bad habits. Skipping meals, eating nothing but carbohydrates, or even consuming moldy fruit. It was shameful. How would others look upon him if they saw that?
How would Hua Cheng react?
Not well.
He knew this for a fact.
The last time Hua Cheng had seen Xie Lian attempt to eat something that had simply fallen on the ground, he had cried out in dismay. Then he turned the couple around to buy Xie Lian a fresh mantou.
“I can’t allow my god to eat something dirty.”
It only fed the guilt that lived inside him. The guilt that helped that incessant ache to grow and grow.
Xie Lian had things to do. There were prayers to answer, a cottage to clean, Puqi villagers to assist. But Xie Lian could do nothing but lay in bed, watching birds fly past the window.
Hua Cheng was in Ghost City dealing with some petty demons. Oh, how Xie Lian ached to reach out to him through the communication array. But he knew his husband too well. He would drop his important duties just to fret over Xie Lian. Xie Lian wasn’t worth fretting over.
He could reach out to someone else, perhaps. Feng Xin or Mu Qing, perhaps. But would they understand? A village elder once told him he simply needed to get up and get going. That once he was put into action he’d feel better. But instead his limbs felt like lead as he forced himself through the motions of the day.
Get up, get up, get up. He told himself repeatedly.
Every failed attempt only added to the weight. The world around him felt farther and farther away. No longer was he laying on the plush bed. Instead, he was floating through black air, watching those who suffered from his mistakes. The lives lost and the pain endured.
Blood, fire, tormented spirits.
Useless, useless, useless.
A failure.
The laughingstock of the three realms.
Shouts and insults were spat at him. Like a sword, they struck that same spot in his chest over and over.
It hurts.
He wanted to curl up and simply disappear.
Then, a light in the darkness.
Something silver sparkled before him, and cool skin covered his palms. Still, they felt so far away.
Then the cool skin retreated. A few moments later a hot ceramic cup was placed in his hands. Green tea wafting through his nostrils.
That cool skin—gentle hands—made their way to Xie Lian’s hair, carefully combing through tangles but scratching his scalp in a way that made his arms prickle. Goosebumps formed along his skin and the world became a little clearer.
Red.
Maple red was beside him, encouraging Xie Lian to sip his tea. His long, wavy black locks contrasted with jade skin. Those slender fingers, once finished with smoothing the god’s hair, made their way to the sensitive skin just behind Xie Lian’s ear.
The tickle Hua Cheng gave was enough to finally bring Xie Lian out of his thoughts and into reality.
“Gege?” Hua Cheng asked. “Are you with me?”
Xie Lian nodded, unable to reply.
“Can you drink some tea for me? This one made it just for you,” Hua Cheng gave that sweet smile reserved only for him.
It was easier when simple things were done for Hua Cheng’s sake rather than his own. If his husband had spent the time making Xie Lian tea, then he should show his gratitude by drinking it. Xie Lian sipped the hot tea. It was smooth and felt good in his throat.
After drinking a little tea, Xie Lian passed the cup back to his husband who set it aside. Hua Cheng then made his way under the covers of their marriage bed and pulled Xie Lian to his chest—gently rubbing his shoulders to help ground him more.
When Xie Lian was more aware of his state, he crumbled. Tears formed in his eyes.
“San Lang, I…”
“Shhh,” Hua Cheng hummed. “You’re straining your voice. Just let this one hold his sweet husband, hm?”
Xie Lian nodded, pressing his head to the other’s chest.
“I know it’s hard for you to believe sometimes. But I am so proud of you gege,” Hua Cheng said in a soft voice. “You’ve been through so much. It's hard to exist sometimes but you make this world a better place. Even when you’re not saving anyone.”
And who would know how hard existing despite everything is than Hua Cheng? The man who clung to this world just for the sake of one person? How much did he suffer throughout those 800 years of searching for Xie Lian? How many times did he think about giving up?
Xie Lian shifted slightly to press a kiss to his husband’s cheek. Hua Cheng smiled before suddenly peppering kisses all over Xie Lian’s face until they both were giggling.
And, although it wasn’t completely gone, that ache within Xie Lian dissipated just a little bit.