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Valentine’s Day had always been a joke to Jiang Cheng. All the fuss about roses, confessions, and love. He didn’t believe in any of it. Not for someone like him. How could he, when the mirror had never reflected anything worth loving?
He scowled as he entered his dorm, tossing his backpack to the corner. His face always seemed to be stuck in that expression—a shield against the world. Everyone thought he was tough, angry, always scowling. He let them believe that. It was easier than showing what lay beneath.
As he approached his desk, something strange caught his eye. A bundle of black roses lay on top of it, a note pinned between the stems. Jiang Cheng’s scowl deepened.
*"What the hell?"*
He walked over, heart sinking with every step. Black roses were never a good sign. He knew that. His fingers, trembling slightly, reached for the note. He hesitated before reading the words, his chest tightening as his worst fear started to claw its way to the surface.
*"Nobody wants you."*
The words were simple, cruel, and they struck him with the force of a thousand insults. His breathing became uneven as he stared at the note, his throat tightening. It was like a punch to the gut, confirming every insecurity he'd harbored for years.
Jiang Cheng’s first instinct was to crumple the note and throw the flowers away. His hand shook, gripping the paper so tightly that it began to tear. But the words wouldn’t leave his mind.
*"Nobody wants you."*
It echoed, bouncing around inside his skull. It was stupid—childish even—but it hit too close to home. Too close to the insecurities he had buried so deep.
*They’re right,* he thought bitterly. *No one has ever wanted me. Not really. Not for who I am. My father barely tolerated me, my sister—gone, and Wei Wuxian—he’s always been the one everyone loves. I’m just… here.*
A harsh breath escaped him. He clenched the note so tightly his knuckles turned white, trying to hold back the surge of emotion welling up inside. *Why would anyone want me?* He felt the familiar weight of doubt and self-loathing settle on his shoulders, suffocating him.
Without another thought, he shoved the roses and note into his trash bin and stormed out of the room. He didn’t want to be there. He didn’t want to feel like this, but it was too late. The damage was done.
Jiang Cheng needed to get away—somewhere quiet, somewhere no one could see him fall apart. His legs carried him down the corridor, out of the dorm building, past the courtyard, and towards the woods behind Gusu University.
There was a spot—hidden from the world—where he went when it all became too much. The clearing wasn’t far from the edge of the campus, tucked away among trees. No one ever came there, and that was exactly what he needed now.
As soon as he reached the clearing, Jiang Cheng’s composure crumbled. He fell to his knees, breathing ragged as the walls he’d built around himself shattered. His hands gripped the grass beneath him, nails digging into the earth as he fought the sob that threatened to tear from his throat.
*What’s wrong with me? Why do I keep hoping things will be different?* His mind spiraled, thoughts tumbling out of control. He could hear his father’s voice in his head, cold and unforgiving. *Weak. You’re weak. That’s why no one cares.*
Tears burned at the edges of his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. He couldn’t. Jiang Cheng was supposed to be strong. He wasn’t allowed to break down. Not in front of others. Never in front of others. But now, alone in this clearing, he couldn’t stop it.
*Maybe they’re right. Maybe no one will ever want me. I’m not enough. Not for anyone. I never will be.*
---
From the edge of the clearing, Lan Xichen watched in silence. He had followed Jiang Cheng without meaning to, drawn by something he couldn’t quite explain. And now, he stood at a distance, witnessing a side of Jiang Cheng that no one ever saw.
He wasn’t the scowling, tough guy everyone thought he was. He wasn’t the unapproachable, angry young man that kept people at arm’s length. Here, alone and vulnerable, Jiang Cheng was just… hurt. So deeply hurt that it pained Lan Xichen to watch.
He wanted to go to him, to offer comfort, but something held him back. This was Jiang Cheng’s moment—his private pain—and Lan Xichen didn’t want to intrude. Not yet. Jiang Cheng needed space, and Lan Xichen would give him that.
But he wouldn’t leave. Not when he could see how much Jiang Cheng was hurting. Instead, Lan Xichen stayed just far enough away to allow Jiang Cheng his privacy, but close enough to act if he needed to.
---
The next day, Jiang Cheng sat in the library, his mind a haze of conflicting thoughts. The black roses, the note, the ache in his chest—all of it had left him feeling raw and exposed. He hated it. He hated that it bothered him so much, that the cruel prank had cut so deep.
*Why do I let things like this get to me?* he thought, staring blankly at the textbook in front of him. *It shouldn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. Except… it does.*
The sound of footsteps approached, but Jiang Cheng didn’t look up. He was too lost in his thoughts to care who it was. He just wanted to be left alone.
“Jiang Cheng.”
The soft, familiar voice made his heart skip. He recognized it immediately—Lan Xichen. What was he doing here?
Reluctantly, Jiang Cheng glanced up, meeting Lan Xichen’s gentle gaze. There was something in his expression, something Jiang Cheng couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t pity… no, it was something else. Something softer. Kinder.
Without a word, Lan Xichen held out a single red rose.
Jiang Cheng’s eyes widened in surprise. “What… what’s this?” he asked, his voice rough.
Lan Xichen smiled, that soft, reassuring smile that always seemed to ease the tension in any room. “It’s for you.”
Jiang Cheng frowned, his insecurities flaring up instantly. “Why? Is this some kind of joke?”
“No,” Lan Xichen replied quietly, shaking his head. “It’s not a joke. I saw… I saw what happened yesterday.”
Jiang Cheng’s heart sank. So Lan Xichen had witnessed his breakdown. His face flushed with embarrassment, and he immediately averted his gaze. “You… you saw that?”
“I did,” Lan Xichen admitted, his voice calm. “But I didn’t approach because I didn’t want to intrude.”
Jiang Cheng’s mind raced. He didn’t know how to respond. The idea that someone had seen him so vulnerable made him want to curl into himself, to hide from the world. But Lan Xichen wasn’t mocking him. There was no condescension in his voice. Only understanding.
“Why are you giving me this?” Jiang Cheng asked, gesturing to the rose. “You don’t have to… feel sorry for me.”
Lan Xichen knelt down beside him, his eyes steady and sincere. “It’s not about pity, Jiang Cheng. It’s about showing you that you are wanted. That you are worth more than what those girls said.”
Jiang Cheng’s chest tightened. He didn’t know how to handle this—Lan Xichen’s kindness, his sincerity. It felt too good to be true.
“Why?” Jiang Cheng asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because I care about you,” Lan Xichen replied simply.
Jiang Cheng blinked, not sure if he had heard correctly. “You… care about me?”
Lan Xichen nodded, offering him a small, warm smile. “I do.”
Jiang Cheng’s immediate instinct was to reject the idea. To push Lan Xichen away, to tell him that he was lying or that it was all just some kind of misunderstanding. But something stopped him. Maybe it was the way Lan Xichen looked at him, so full of patience and understanding, or maybe it was because deep down, Jiang Cheng wanted to believe it.
He wanted to believe that someone could care about him. That someone could want him, even with all his flaws and insecurities.
“I don’t…” Jiang Cheng struggled to find the words. “I don’t understand. I’m not… I’m not like you. I’m not… I’m not good.”
Lan Xichen’s expression softened even more. “You don’t have to be like me, Jiang Cheng. You just have to be yourself. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
Jiang Cheng felt his throat tighten. He didn’t know what to say, how to react. Lan Xichen was so gentle, so kind, and Jiang Cheng wasn’t sure if he could trust it.
But Lan Xichen didn’t push. He didn’t force anything. He just waited, patient and understanding, allowing Jiang Cheng the space he needed.
---
Over the next few days, Lan Xichen made a consistent effort to be there for Jiang Cheng. He would show up at the library, sitting nearby but never intruding. He would offer small, thoughtful gestures—like bringing Jiang Cheng tea or sharing lunch with him when he noticed Jiang Cheng had skipped a meal.
Jiang Cheng, at first, was suspicious. His mind, filled with self-doubt, kept telling him that Lan Xichen was only doing this out of pity. That it wouldn’t last.
*He’s too perfect,* Jiang Cheng thought one day as they sat in the courtyard together. *Why would he ever want someone like me?*
But no matter how many times Jiang Cheng tried to convince himself that Lan Xichen’s kindness wasn’t genuine, Lan Xichen never wavered. He was always there, patient and steady, never asking for anything in return.
One afternoon, while they were sitting under a tree on campus, Jiang Cheng finally voiced the thoughts that had been eating away at him.
“Why are you still doing this?” he asked, his voice quiet and uncertain.
Lan Xichen glanced at him, confused. “Doing what?”
“This,” Jiang Cheng gestured between them. “Spending time with me. Caring. I don’t… I don’t understand why.”
Lan Xichen tilted his head slightly, his expression thoughtful. “Why wouldn’t I care?”
“Because…” Jiang Cheng’s throat tightened. “Because I’m not worth it.”
Lan Xichen’s eyes widened in surprise, and for the first time since they’d started spending more time together, he looked genuinely upset. “Who told you that?”
Jiang Cheng averted his gaze, not wanting to meet Lan Xichen’s eyes. “No one had to tell me. It’s just… it’s just how things are.”
Lan Xichen was silent for a moment, then he spoke, his voice firm but gentle. “Jiang Cheng, that’s not true. You are worth it. You’re worth more than you know.”
Jiang Cheng swallowed hard, trying to hold back the wave of emotion that threatened to overwhelm him. He didn’t know how to respond. He had spent so long believing that he wasn’t enough—that no one could ever truly care about him. And yet, here was Lan Xichen, telling him the exact opposite.
“How can you be so sure?” Jiang Cheng asked, his voice barely audible.
Lan Xichen smiled softly, reaching out to place a hand on Jiang Cheng’s shoulder. “Because I see you, Jiang Cheng. I see who you really are. And I care about you, just as you are.” while saying Xichen placed a tender kiss on Jiang Cheng's temple.
---
As time went on, Jiang Cheng found himself slowly beginning to trust Lan Xichen. It wasn’t easy. His insecurities still whispered in the back of his mind, telling him that it wouldn’t last, that Lan Xichen would eventually see all his flaws and leave.
But Lan Xichen didn’t leave. He stayed, through the moments of doubt and the moments of silence. He never pushed Jiang Cheng to open up, but when Jiang Cheng did, he was always there to listen.
It was strange, how comforting Lan Xichen’s presence had become. Jiang Cheng had never thought that he could feel so at ease with someone, but with Lan Xichen, it was different. There was no pressure, no expectation. Just quiet understanding.
---
As the afternoon sun cast a golden glow over the courtyard, Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen sat in their usual spot under the large oak tree. There was a comfortable silence between them, but Jiang Cheng could feel a strange tension in the air. Something unspoken lingered between them.
Lan Xichen had been particularly quiet today, his gaze soft but thoughtful as if he was mulling over something important. Jiang Cheng, while pretending to be engrossed in the book on his lap, couldn’t help but notice how Lan Xichen’s eyes would occasionally flicker towards him, his lips parting slightly as though he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.
Finally, Jiang Cheng’s patience wore thin. He slammed the book shut, startling Lan Xichen out of his reverie.
“Alright,” Jiang Cheng huffed, folding his arms across his chest. “What is it? You’ve been acting weird all day.”
Lan Xichen blinked, looking at Jiang Cheng with a mixture of surprise and fond amusement. “I didn’t realize I was being that obvious.”
“You’re always obvious,” Jiang Cheng grumbled. “Now spill. What’s on your mind?”
For a moment, Lan Xichen simply gazed at him, his expression unreadable. Then, with a soft sigh, he turned fully towards Jiang Cheng, his hands resting gently on his knees.
“There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you,” Lan Xichen began, his voice calm but laced with an emotion that made Jiang Cheng’s heart race. “Something I should have said a long time ago.”
Jiang Cheng frowned, a flicker of unease passing through him. “What is it?”
Lan Xichen hesitated, and for the first time, Jiang Cheng saw a vulnerability in his eyes that he had never noticed before. It made his chest tighten, and for reasons he couldn’t quite explain, he felt nervous.
“I… I care about you, Jiang Cheng,” Lan Xichen said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “More than I’ve ever cared about anyone.”
Jiang Cheng’s breath hitched, and he stared at Lan Xichen, his mind struggling to process the words.
“I know you’ve been hurt before,” Lan Xichen continued, his hand reaching out to gently touch Jiang Cheng’s cheek. “And I know you find it hard to trust. But I want you to know that I’m not going anywhere. I’m not just doing this because I feel sorry for you. I’m doing this because… because I love you.”
Jiang Cheng’s eyes widened, his heart pounding in his chest. He opened his mouth to say something, but the words wouldn’t come. He felt frozen, his emotions a tangled mess inside him.
Lan Xichen, seeing his hesitation, gave him a tender smile. “You don’t have to say anything right now. I just wanted you to know.”
But before Jiang Cheng could stop himself, the words tumbled out of him, raw and unguarded. “Why would you love me? I’m not… I’m not like you. I’m a mess. I don’t deserve—”
Lan Xichen didn’t let him finish. He leaned forward, closing the distance between them, and pressed his lips softly to Jiang Cheng’s. It was a gentle, tentative kiss, but it was filled with so much warmth and affection that Jiang Cheng felt his heart shatter and heal all at once.
Jiang Cheng’s eyes fluttered shut, and for a brief moment, all of his insecurities, all of his doubts melted away. It was just him and Lan Xichen, wrapped in the quiet intimacy of that kiss. When Lan Xichen finally pulled back, their foreheads resting against each other, Jiang Cheng’s breath came out in a shaky sigh.
“You’re not a mess to me,” Lan Xichen murmured, his thumb brushing gently over Jiang Cheng’s cheek. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”
Jiang Cheng swallowed hard, his throat tight with emotion. He didn’t know what to say. His mind was still reeling from the confession, from the kiss. But deep down, in a place he had long buried, he realized that he had always wanted this too.
“I… I don’t know what to say,” Jiang Cheng whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
“You don’t have to say anything,” Lan Xichen replied, his smile soft and reassuring. “Just let me be with you. That’s all I ask.”
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