Chapter Text
千里之行，始于足下
A journey of a thousand-li starts with just a single step
It felt like he was drowning.
Everything was so muted.
Jiang Cheng felt like his ears were stuffed with cotton, as his mind replayed Lan Xichen’s words to him. Uttered only minutes ago, his eyes lined with weariness and heartache, regret pressed into the thin line of his pursed lips.
I believe it would be beneficial for us both if we were to spend some time apart.
Jiang Cheng doesn’t know if Lan Xichen had realised then, but his words had knocked the air and the fight out of Jiang Cheng. Had left Jiang Cheng with nothing but a hollowness that he isn’t sure will ever fade.
He doesn’t remember the jerky nod he had given to Lan Xichen as a response, doesn’t remember returning to the Hanshi, doesn’t remember tracing the steps back to their- no, to Lan Xichen’s room. Doesn’t remember starting to gather his things, going through the motions aimlessly with a blank mind and clammy hands.
What am I doing?
His feet felt leadened like wooden blocks; the thump of every step sounding too loud , reverberating in the silence of the empty room.
There isn’t much to pack, since he hasn’t made it a habit to leave his possessions around in the Hanshi as if it…as if it was his home too.
(It has never been, and could never be.)
It is a matter of minutes for Jiang Cheng to bundle his few personal belongings into a cloth pack.
If Jiang Cheng were to be honest, in the recent months whenever he had stayed in the Hanshi, he’d felt an undercurrent simmering beneath the quaint and elegant interior of Lan Xichen’s home that whispered unwelcome, unwelcome, unwelcome-
Had felt Xichen gradually grow more and more distant, becoming less Lan Xichen and more Zewu-Jun as their quarrels grew in frequency and length, revolving over the same few issues that had plagued their respective thoughts since the incident at Guanyin Temple three years ago.
Was it my fault?
(Of course it was, foolish boy. When is it never your fault?)
It didn’t always feel like that, when Jiang Cheng was still just Sect Leader Jiang to Lan Xichen. Back then, the Hanshi had felt like comfort; like soft chuckles and warm sun filtering through the paper of the window.
Jiang Cheng wishes he could wonder what had caused the change in his and Lan Xichen’s relationship, but knew that deep down the problem lay with him. After all, what else could it be other than the parasitic disease that was Jiang Cheng himself?
With his uncanny ability to corrupt anything good it came into contact with, destroying, destroying, destroying everything the moment he touched anything good. It was without a doubt Jiang Cheng’s own fault for trying to create happiness where gaping wounds lay, and forcing his feelings on someone who was hurting...hoping, hoping, hoping that maybe this time, if he was useful enough, maybe it would work out favourably after all.
You’re not good enough. Nobody wants you. You will never be the one they care for.
(A-Ying! Quick, get a healer! A-Cheng, what are you doing just standing there?! A-Ying is-)
(A-Cheng, why haven’t you improved?! Are you deliberately trying to bring shame to me-)
(Lan Zhan! Lan Zhan! Look-)
(A-Yao...why did you leave me behind-)
“I guess not,” Jiang Cheng chuckled bitterly to himself. After all, he had forgotten one very important thing when he had first approached Lan Xichen in his seclusion….and it was that unlike Wei Wuxian, who was loved by the heavens and favored by fate, it would never be Jiang Cheng’s turn to enjoy such blessings.
It had always been like this since he was a child, how foolish it was for him to think that maybe, just maybe, things would be better once he had grown up?
Running through his head like a herd of horses let loose, are the words that Lan Xichen had left unsaid, because even in his anger he is too kind, too good, and yet Jiang Cheng hears it anyway, ringing in his mind like the chime of his bell.
I want you to go away. To leave me alone.
Jiang Cheng’s hands slow to a rest when they brush against a white silk robe embroidered with lotus flowers along the length of the sleeves in pale, shimmery purple threads, entwined with swirling clouds in baby blues, a perfect harmony of their respective sects’ motifs.
Ah, he thinks as his throat closes in on itself and his eyes burn with unshed tears, I had this made just days after our wedding. I wanted to surprise Xichen with something that was ours-
Except….except that its partner, sitting folded in a clothes chest somewhere else in the Hanshi had never been worn. Lan Xichen had smiled at him when Jiang Cheng had presented it to him and murmured a quiet, ‘thank you, Wanyin. It’s a beautiful robe, and I’ll make sure to treasure it well.’
Back then, Jiang Cheng had blushed and replied that he was glad Xichen liked it and that if he wanted, he could have more sets made for them.
Now, Jiang Cheng knows. Knows that Xichen was just being polite, showing nothing but the utmost courtesy whilst he accepted a gift that he didn’t wish for. He knows now that Lan Xichen had smiled at him then not with affection, but with regret woven into the curve of his lips and in the shadows of his eyes. Knows now that this gift was unwanted, like him.
A burden, like him.
Jiang Cheng knows that this happiness was never his, that Lan Xichen’s happiest smiles were not reserved for him.
Knows in his heart that it was someone else that Xichen had hoped was standing in Jiang Cheng’s place as they bowed to the heavens, and to each other.
Jiang Cheng does not know when his tears start dripping down his face, falling onto the floor with a soft drip, drip, drip. Doesn’t know when he pulls the robe close to him and crushes it against his chest, filled with his broken heart and an endless river of pain. It is only now that Jiang Cheng feels off-kilter, like a puppet with its strings snipped in half.
Rubbing the heel of his palm against his eyes roughly, brushing his tears away as he had always done, Jiang Cheng stood back up (as he had always done, as he had always needed to do-) and crammed the last few items that belonged to him in his pack.
Taking a deep breath to calm himself enough so that his hands no longer shake, Jiang Cheng prepares a brief note for Lan Xichen.
Lan Xichen,
Perhaps you are right, as you are with most things, in that some time apart might be best for us at this time. I will be returning to Lotus Pier for the time being.
Jiang Wanyin
Reading over the note, Jiang Cheng hesitantly added in a wobbly written I’m sorry and I love you in the space between his last sentence and name, before placing it down on the tea table, and weighing it down with an empty teacup.
Then….what now? Jiang Cheng wanted to stay here, believing that maybe, maybe Xichen would return and smooth things out with his gentle voice and steady hands. Yet, he also felt as though he couldn’t stay here for a second longer because everywhere he looked, everything he touched made his skin crawl with the knowledge that he was not the person Xichen had intended to, had hoped to share this house with.
It’s better for me to go. After all, what is the point of continuing to fight a losing battle? What is the point of staying where I am not wanted, not needed anymore?
(Will you miss me, Lan Xichen?)
With a heavy exhale, Jiang Cheng walked towards the door of the Hanshi, an irrational urge to turn back and take in the details one more time sweeping over him just before he took his last step out of the door. Turning, he gazed at the space and furniture that had grown so familiar to him over the course of the last three years as he had befriended Lan Xichen, then pursued him, and finally married him.
Letting his sight map the elegant interior before him, Jiang Cheng seared the image of the Hanshi into his mind - noting the furniture made from the finest purple sandalwood, where he and Xichen had spent many an afternoon sharing a space working through the paperwork of their respective sects. Soaking in the once-calming atmosphere that had now turned cold and brittle.
As he did, Jiang Cheng let the sense of loss and defeat curl through him as a peal of hysterical laughter gradually rose within him and threatened to bubble out as he realised how foolish he was to have hoped for a happy ending here.
Here, with Lan Xichen, where he was still living in the shadows of a dead person, yet again chasing after love that would never be his.
Am I cursed to forever be shadowed by the memories of ghosts who have passed? To be looked at with eyes carrying hidden wishes, hoping that I were someone else?
(Father, Mother, Wei Wuxian and now, Lan Xichen.)
Huffing out a humourless laugh, what else could Jiang Cheng do other than resign himself to the reality that his marriage had really turned out to be nothing but a new variant of how every other story in his miserable life had played out thus far?
What had started as a hopeful beginning was going to end up with Jiang Cheng getting torn down, his heart thrown back at him in pieces. Jiang Cheng had some inkling that this would happen when he first embarked on his journey to court the esteemed First Jade of Gusu, hinted by sad smiles shadowed by an unresolved love and yet somehow , Jiang Cheng had been stubborn in his hope.
Had been hopeful that with Lan Xichen, they might have been able to find happiness with each other. Now Jiang Cheng knows that his stubbornness was for naught, the all-consuming desire for a happy end (just once, please, just once) that he had felt back then was no match for his fragile feelings and glass heart, destined to ruin everything he set his sights on.
Walking through the winding corridors of the Cloud Recesses, quiet with the stillness of the late night, clutching his meagre pack of possessions, his footsteps light and barely making a rustle - Jiang Cheng made his way away from the Hanshi, away from Lan Xichen.
When he had first seen Xichen finally smiling, many visits after Jiang Cheng’s first, his heart had fluttered against his ribs and he had promised himself then - that if he were given the chance to ever be with Lan Xichen - that he would never walk away from Lan Xichen; would never leave him behind the way his sworn brothers had in death.
Only now…..just what was Jiang Cheng doing?
Left alone with nothing but his anguish and his despairing thoughts, Jiang Cheng was powerless to stop his mind from wandering, reflecting, looking for something, anything that could help him understand why he was breaking a promise that he had quietly vowed years ago.
Why did- what did I- how did I even end up in this pathetic state?
In the haze of his heartbreak, Jiang Cheng allows his mind to recollect the journey which spanned barely a day but had led to this .
Having to deal with unreasonable requests and petty squabbles by neighboring smaller sects hoping to cheat some extra benefits from working with the Yunmeng Jiang sect was not how Jiang Cheng had planned for his morning to start.
Whilst the issues were mostly minor annoyances that could be solved with either money or extra resources, the time involved in talking through the solutions with his trusted disciples added up and before he knew it, Jiang Cheng had missed both breakfast and lunch, and ended up with a splitting headache as an added bonus. Courtesy of the universe and the heavens and fate, because they all loved him so much. Clearly.
Pulling his arms up above him in a long stretch and feeling his tense muscles burn at being straightened, Jiang Cheng had never missed his husband more than he did at that moment. Oh, how he missed the peace and quiet that Xichen’s residence offered, missed the warmth that accompanied Lan Xichen’s quiet smiles and the strong arms pulling him into a warm chest on bad days, soothing away a lifetime of hurt and pain for those few moments.
Clearing the paperwork that required immediate attention from him as quickly as he could, Jiang Cheng felt victorious as he folded and sealed the last letter before putting it in the pile that his right hand man and successor, Jiang An, would see were delivered to the rightful places the letters needed to go.
After informing his staff that he would be heading to Gusu for a short trip, Jiang Cheng had mounted his sword and began his journey to the Cloud Recesses, flying at unrecommended speeds because he was really, really hoping to squeeze out a couple of extra hours to spend with Lan Xichen. It’d been weeks since he last visited the Cloud Recesses, and he missed his husband dearly.
Urging himself on, Jiang Cheng pulled from the depths of his core, flying faster still - the reward of being able to see his husband warming his heart even through his tiredness from exerting his spiritual energy like that.
Faster, and faster, until the outline of the elegant, stately architecture of the Lan Sect’s buildings made itself known through the shroud of wispy clouds. Only then did Jiang Cheng slow his speed to a more regular one, feeling the pull on his spiritual energy lessen so that it was more of a tug than a constant draw. He knew it was unnecessarily vain of him (and woe betide anyone who ever found out), but Jiang Cheng cared that he looked presentable when he saw Lan Xichen again, after weeks apart.
Secretly, he wondered if Lan Xichen missed him just as much as he missed Lan Xichen.
Striding through the corridors of the Cloud Recesses, the bottom of his boots crunching on the loose gravel dusting the top of the stone steps, Jiang Cheng’s footsteps slowed to a stop as he was momentarily distracted by a little parcel of shaded grassy land off to the side of the corridor he was currently travelling through.
He hadn’t seen it before, but it certainly looked like a place that would be a suitable location for him and Xichen to have a picnic at.
Leaves crunching beneath the sole of his shoes, Jiang Cheng wandered into the patch of land that was sheltered with the shade of gingko trees. Even now, when he’d been married for over a year to Xichen, there were still new places that he was learning about in the Cloud Recesses.
Watching the warm sunlight drift it’s way down through the gaps of the tree leaves, Jiang Cheng’s mind helpfully painted a charming scene of him and his husband, tumbling into one another as they laughed, surrounded by falling tree leaves and happines-
"Lan Zhan! Lan Zhan! Look at these leaves, they look like bunny ears!"
Ugh, Jiang Cheng heaved a resigned sigh internally as he heard Wei Wuxian’s carefree laughter drift its way towards him, carried by the afternoon breeze that swayed the trees and made his bell tinkle.
It honestly seemed that everywhere he went, it was proving to be absolutely impossible to not run into Wei Wuxian and his stone-faced husband. Jiang Cheng didn’t hold out much hope that the two wouldn’t be engaging in some form of shameless behaviour and was proven right as he rounded the tree nearest to him.
Huddled in the lap of his precious Lan Zhan, sat Wei Wuxian clutching a little mountain of twigs, leaves and flowers in his own lap. Apparently Wei Wuxian was so free nowadays, he’d even picked up flower arrangement and was now crafting a one of a kind flower crown for his husband.
Jiang Cheng snickered at the thought of Lan Wangji being decorated with a poorly constructed flower crown, sure that it would clash with the stoic expression that was forever carved unto his face.
(And if Jiang Cheng was honest, watching the two of them cocooned in their bubble of bliss made something that felt suspiciously like envy twist in his chest, because it was something that he had never had the chance to do for his own husband.)
Feeling his eye twitch at seeing Wei Wuxian drop his work in progress to plant a big, long smooch on Lan Wangji’s lips, Jiang Cheng felt his patience reach the end of it’s (very) short rope and he roared, “Wei Wuxian!! Do you have no shame! Must you curse my eyes with your goddamn flirting every chance you get?!”
“Ah! Jiang Cheng, you’re here! When did you arrive? Why didn’t you come and say hi?”
“What makes you think I have to report to you when I arrive?”, he’d barked in response.
“No-that’s, that’s not what I meant, A-Cheng!”
“I’ve said it a hundred times before, and I’ll say it again, don’t call me that!! Also, stop being so fucking shameless out in broad daylight! Not everyone is like you, without a shred of shame in their-”
“Stop.”
Faced with Lan Wangji’s frosty glare, Jiang Cheng only felt his rage soar to monumental levels. Seeing him tighten his arms around Wei Wuxian (always, always, always acting as some sort of over-committed bodyguard. Did he think Wei Wuxian was so weak he couldn’t defeat a younger brother who he’d already defeated a thousand times before?)
“Do not speak to Wei Ying like that.”
And there it was. The ‘do not mess with Wei Ying or I will hurt you’ rhetoric that seemed to be the only thing Lan Wangji was capable of sprouting whenever they had the misfortune of encountering each other. It was truly a skill that Lan Wangji had, needing to voice out less than ten words to make Jiang Cheng’s blood pressure soar to unhealthy levels.
“What if I don’t want to, honorable HanGuang-Jun? When have my words to Wei Wuxian been any of your concern? You may be his husband, but don’t think that I will hold your words with regard just because you are so. Do not be so arrogant as to think that you have the authority to silence me!” Jiang Cheng had sneered, his expression painted with mockery and rage.
In hindsight, Jiang Cheng should have probably seen it coming, what with him being the universe’s bitch and all but at that specific moment in time, Lan Wangji’s next words had set off a series of explosions in the minefield that was Jiang Cheng’s insecurities.
“Wei Ying does not deserve the unjust sentiments you throw at him because of your biased judgement. With his core burning so brightly inside of you, do you not feel any morsel of gratitude to him? To hold him with any respect at all in your heart for his sacrifices? Without his sacrifice, you would have never been able to achieve what you have up until now. Reflect on your own vile nature, Sandu Shengshou, before you think to spit poison at others.”
“I-”
“Lan Zhan, you’re so protective hahaha! Jiang Cheng~ don’t mind too much, Lan Zhan doesn’t mean it that way!”
What the fuck?!
What did Wei Wuxian mean by Lan Wangji not meaning his words the way he’d said them? Of course he’d meant it exactly as he said them! From what perspective could that be misunderstood?!
“Ugh, talking to you two is such a fucking waste of my time. Fuck this, I’m going to look for Xichen because clearly he’s the only tolerable one around here!”
Curiously, Wei Wuxian’s face had changed then as he hurriedly scrambled up from his comfortable spot on his husband’s lap.
“Ah, Jiang Cheng! Wait, maybe you shouldn’t-”
Ignoring Wei Wuxian’s incessant blabbering, Jiang Cheng executed a sharp turn and stalked straight out of the previously peaceful garden and headed towards the direction of where Lan Xichen’s little cottage stood surrounded by a bamboo forest.
What the fuck was Wei Wuxian going off about just now? Was it not enough that he’d already made Jiang Cheng late on his way to see his husband? What was he trying to stop Jiang Cheng for?
Pushing his way past the wooden doors of the cottage, Jiang Cheng was greeted not by a soft glance and gentle smile but by silence and darkness.
Confusion bleeding its way across his features, Jiang Cheng swept his gaze over the expanse of the space, looking for any hints that Xichen may have left that indicated where he’d gone.
Knowing that Xichen was fond of occasionally taking walks around the lands near the Hanshi when he was in a rare good mood, Jiang Cheng’s next stop was to check the grounds outside. Walking around the bend of the house, he gazed at the swathe of bamboo trees that lined the perimeter of the land and his eye caught a flicker of light a short distance away.
Walking towards it, a hunched over figure in white gradually came into view and he took in the white robes that had bunched up on the ground as a result of the figure’s crouched pose, patterned with the signature swirling clouds of the Lan sect.
“Lan Xichen.”
His lips quirking up into a slight but fond smile, Jiang Cheng quickened his steps as he approached the ball of white that was his husband. It was then Jiang Cheng should have picked up that something wasn’t quite right, as Lan Xichen failed to greet him as he usually did, with a quiet smile and a soft “Wanyin, you’re here.”
Nearing his husband, Jiang Cheng realised that he was…..burning paper?
No, it wasn’t just mere paper. Those were paper offerings, burnt only for the dead.
Running his mind through the series of important dates that pertained to both him and Xichen’s families and still coming up short, Jiang Cheng could only ask, “Xichen, what are you doing burning offerings out here in the dark?”
While it wasn’t unusual for Jiang Cheng’s questions to be met with silence on the odd occasion, Xichen’s silence today felt distant. Like his mind was a hundred miles away, and drifting further still.
Just who was his husband burning offerings for, crouched like some beggar in a desolate corner of his private grounds?
What kind of identity would require that even in death they would not be given the chance to be honoured properly?
His annoyance caused by his earlier encounter with his irritating brother and his husband temporarily receding at seeing a tremor work its way through his husband, Jiang Cheng urged as he reached out to bundle Xichen close to him, “Xichen, let’s go back inside first. Being in the cold for too long is not good for you.”
“Just a minute more..please...I want to -”
“Hmm? Let’s go in first. Just who are you praying for out in the dark and the dirt on such a random day anyway?”
But….it didn’t look like Xichen was listening to him at all, and Jiang Cheng could only look on helplessly as tears started tracing their way down Lan Xichen’s sculpted face, looking like rivulets of molten silver as the transparent liquid reflected the moonlight.
(Why is Xichen crying? He rarely cried anymore, unless-)
“A-Yao….”
Oh.
Oh, of course.
It was-
It was that smiling bastard scum’s birthday today. No wonder Jin Ling’s letter to him today had seemed off - characters embodying a rare sort of distractedness. While Jiang Cheng may not be the best at face to face interaction, he could certainly read Jin Ling’s brush strokes well enough. Running his eyes over the brushwork of his letter, Jiang Cheng could make out blobs where Jin Ling’s brush had stalled for a moment too long, likely caused by a wandering mind.
He hadn’t connected the dots together then, and had assumed that his nephew was brooding over some other matter. Jiang Cheng’s mind had wondered suspiciously, it couldn’t be that the council of elders in the Jin Sect was giving his nephew trouble yet again could it? If it was, they could bet their pathetic, snivelly, whiny asses that he was going to show up with Zidian and whip the idiocy out of them. (Not that such stupidity could be cured with just a few lashes )
Feeling the body pulled close to him go taut like an overdrawn bow, Jiang Cheng hurriedly pulled his attention back to the present.
Watching Xichen try to school his face into a mask of pleasantness, and still failing to keep traces of embarrassment and something else from bleeding into his expression made something twist uncomfortably in Jiang Cheng’s chest.
It didn’t feel right, something didn’t feel right-
“W-Wanyin, I’m alright. Could you...could you let go of me please?”
Feeling the pieces click into place neatly like a puzzle in his head, Jiang Cheng finally understood why Lan Xichen was behaving so weirdly, and what emotion had seeped through Xichen’s mask.
Shame. It was shame. Shame at what? Of what? Of himself? Of Jiang Cheng? Of the fact that he was being held by another man whilst praying for the dead one he loves?
Dropping his hands, originally clasped around the lean lines of Xichen’s shoulders and waist, letting them fall to hang limply at his sides, Jiang Cheng was at a loss at what he could do, could say to Xichen.
I know what it’s like to love and lose someone too, I know that pain. Let me be here for you. I want to support you through this. You’re not alone. (I love you.)
Those were the words that Jiang Cheng had wanted to say, but what came out of his mouth instead was, “Why can’t you let go of him Xichen?”
No. No no no no-
He didn’t mean to. He didn’t mean to say it out loud. Not like this, not when he knew Xichen was hurting-
(But he’s hurting too, why doesn’t Xichen seem to care?)
Jiang Cheng knew they were all the wrong words to say, but watching Xichen’s expression cool into a mask of frosted politeness made it obvious that it was much too late to retract his words. A sea of silence stretched between them as they stood facing each other, one too shocked at his own stupidity to say anything, the other too disappointed to offer a response of any kind.
Before Jiang Cheng could get his mind into gear and try to salvage the situation, Lan Xichen had said quietly, “I will be a while more, Wanyin. I have prayers to finish for A-Yao, and some offerings to burn.”
(Please leave me alone.)
“Why can’t you love me?” Jiang Cheng whispered, as he felt the sting of Xichen’s dismissal.
Jiang Cheng felt so lost, so desperate; adrift, like an unmoored boat on the perilous waters of fear. Couldn’t help his voice rising, like the tide of his emotions, “Jin Guangyao was...what was so good about him? Why do you love him so much, Xichen? He hurt you, he’s caused so many tragedies in the world for his own selfish gains, he killed so many innocent people, he killed your own sworn brother! He fooled the world into thinking he was some benevolent leader when he was always just a despicable, lying bastard who used whoever benefited him the most. He-”
“Wanyin, stop.”
“-is nothing but a disgusting little rat who only knew how to fight dirty because he lacked the strength to fight honourably. Not that I would expect any less of him, given his-”
“Enough! Wanyin, I will not tolerate your slander towards A-Yao when you have never known his story, known who he was outside of what you saw of him at the end!”
“What difference would it have made then? Would knowing his story have absolved him of his crimes? Is a few good deeds enough to wipe the dirt and sin from his name? Tell me Xichen, what is it that you’re holding on to for a dead man?!”
Hurt and disappointment flooded Lan Xichen’s beautiful dark eyes as he stood facing Jiang Cheng, flames flickering behind him. The tense lines of Lan Xichen’s shoulders betrayed his mounting frustration as he struggled to rein in his emotions. To remember the rules. To conduct himself with the bearing befitting a Sect Leader.
(But not once remembering to conduct himself as a husband should.)
“Lan Xichen, is it really so impossible for you to move on? To give me a chance?”
As the silence stretched on, drawing out into a pregnant pause heavy with tension, Jiang Cheng finally understood that where he stood now was where he was destined to remain in Lan Xichen’s heart; just as Lan Xichen stood guarding the flames burning offerings for his beloved, he would continue to protect Jin Guangyao’s position in his heart. And Jiang Cheng?
Jiang Cheng would be as he had always been, standing on the opposite side. Wanting, hoping, wishing. Yet never achieving.
(Because he could never achieve the impossible-)
“Jiang Cheng.”
Startling at Lan Xichen’s unexpected use of his birth name, Jiang Cheng snapped his eyes up to meet Lan Xichen’s. Foolishly feeling tentative stirrings of hope within the depths of his heart, because...because if Lan Xichen was using his birth name then did that mean-
“Jiang Cheng, I...I think it is best for both of us to properly reconsider our situation before it hurts us both any further-”
Oh.
Of...of course. Why would he think-
“-I have said it before, that Lans love only once in our lives. At the time when you first extended a formal courtship proposal, I had made it clear to you that the one I loved, no, the one I love still is A-Yao. Back then, you had asked for a chance and I confess, in the throes of my sorrow and guilt, it was a well-timed opportunity for distraction and so I-”
Lan Xichen swallowed, finding it difficult to put his fragmented thoughts into words, to find some way of explaining the mistake that was their marriage without hurting Jiang Wanyin any more than he already had.
“I just...A-Yao was already dead, and the council was pressuring me to resume my duties, so that things could appear to have returned to the normalcy of the past. You brought me a guiding hand out of my seclusion, and I will always thank you for that. However, our conflicts about what you think of A-Yao and what I feel for him has always been a stumbling block in our union. I do not disagree that A-Yao did many unforgivable things, or that he harbored intentions that ultimately hurt so many others. But as to whether he used me or not, I choose to let the memories that we share speak for him.”
Heaving a sigh, Lan Xichen continued, “Jin Guangyao may have used me, but I will always believe that Meng Yao did not. Now that he has gone to a place where I cannot follow yet, all I can do is to remember him fondly in dreams and memories, and to honour him with offerings on the dates that were important in his life...in our lives together.”
Gazing into the distant night, Lan Xichen’s eyes overflowed once again with tears, voice cracking with the weight of his grief as he whispered brokenly, “Jiang Cheng, have you ever known the loss of losing your fated one?”
Seeing how wrecked Lan Xichen was in that moment, shattered edges dripping with heartache and regrets, snuffed out Jiang Cheng’s fight like a candle blown out by a windstorm.
In a low voice, Lan Xichen finally answered one of the questions that had been eating away at Jiang Cheng since the day of their marriage, “Do you know why I held on to my forehead ribbon all this while instead of giving it to you, as I rightfully should have as your husband?”
Casting his eyes towards the endless expanse of night sky dotted with glittering stars, Jiang Cheng nodded, “I know that you have never seen me as your fated one.”
“I have let you down, Jiang Cheng, and I can never apologise enough for doing so but the heart cannot help who it loves. I know I must seem like a joke, a living mockery of the very rules I stand to represent but even then, I do not regret loving him. If I could have done so without offending every member in my sect and every person in the cultivation who had been harmed by A-Yao’s actions, I would have buried my forehead ribbon with him.”
Jiang Cheng had known; had always known, but hearing his suspicions confirmed like that still broke something in him when he had thought that there couldn’t possibly be anything left in him to crack.
(He was aware, of course, that Lan Xichen did not love him; he thought he’d made peace with the knowledge that at best, he was a distraction for Xichen to focus his thoughts away from a love that could never be, away from Jin Guangyao.)
Yet, it was Lan Xichen’s next words that had sealed the deal, and had confirmed one of his greatest fears - not that Lan Xichen had fallen out of love with him (how could that be possible, when Xichen had never loved him to begin with?) but that Lan Xichen had grown tired of him and his vile personality; of his rough nature and poisonous tongue.
“Jiang Cheng, I just...must we always end up in conflict over these matters? Don’t our arguments leave you weary? I just can’t- can’t find the strength to keep struggling with you over this. I….I’m sorry but I think...”
A pause.
“I believe it would be beneficial for us both if we were to spend some time apart.”
Standing before the last set of steps leading down from the Cloud Recesses, Jiang Cheng stops. He cuts a lonely figure, he knows, but so what? It sure was fitting, given how his world was falling down around him yet again. Leaving him standing amongst the ruins of his unfulfilled expectations.
Why does it feel like happiness is so easy for everyone but me? Why is it that no matter what I do, happiness just always seems to slip through my fingers like sand?
Jiang Cheng hates it, hates his life, hates himself with a passion that consumes his soul, his heart and his mind.
Sandu Shengshou, what a joke.
He’s so consumed by ignorance, greed and anger that he’s basically become an ambassador for them. Just another thing that he couldn’t conquer, another impossibility that he has fallen short of achieving.
Jiang Cheng cannot live like this, doesn’t want to live and die like this. The last embers of hope threaten to flicker out in him but they aren’t gone yet. So when his mind whispers to him, don’t you deserve your own chance at happiness? Don’t you deserve to live for yourself?
Jiang Cheng cannot help himself. He hates himself for his weakness, hates himself for the traitorous yes that slithers out from the depths of his bruised, battered heart.
It is foolish, Jiang Cheng knows, but now he cannot bring himself to care anymore because his heart lies shattered like the dust beneath his shoes, with his hopes and dreams fractured like broken ice.
(He knows he has already reached his limit and if he doesn’t stop he knows he will break. For once, and for all.)
He cannot stop himself from wondering what it would feel like.
Wonders what life without constant heartache would feel like, to wake and slumber without the weight of other people’s regret pressing on his shoulders.
To live unshackled, away from the looming shadows of his brother and Lan Xichen’s dead lover.
To do what brings his heart joy, and not what he thinks will make them happy.
To not worry about disappointing anyone other than himself.
(It’s not like you can’t. After all, the preparations had been completed a long while ago.)
It has been so long since he was honest with himself about what he wanted that Jiang Cheng could hardly even paint a proper picture of an ideal, if imaginary, future for himself - genuine contentment part of such a distant past that trying to remember the feel of it was difficult.
(If you can’t remember what happiness feels like, then look for it.)
Trudging down the stone steps, Jiang Cheng contemplated whether it would be infinitely selfish of him to just drop everything and disappear, because he was really over it.
Why not though? It’s not as though anyone would actually miss him...right?
So at the bottom of the steps leading out and away from the Cloud Recesses, Jiang Cheng decides that it is time for this journey to end; because when you’ve hit the end of a road, the only options are to turn back, or to find a different path.
Jiang Cheng decides, as his feet crunch against the gravel on the very last stone step of the stairs leading up to the Cloud Recesses.
This time, I will not look back.