Chapter Text
Changyu thinks she has seen this man beaten, battered, and on the verge of death way too many times. And some of them, she witnessed with her own eyes. Yet during others, she kept him company and carried Xie Zheng on her shoulders, feeling the hot weight of his body and the damp clothes soaked with blood slowly seeping onto her back, feeling warm, and almost immediately cold as ice. It had never been her intention to see him bruised and wounded so much, yet fate, it seemed, kept on pulling them back together for her to witness him like that, feeling first pity and the urge to take care of and protect someone who seemed so frail – but only on the outside. Only when there was no one but her around. And then feeling a whole multitude of other things – some of them beautiful, others not so much, and yet others so painful they were gnawing on her heart like hungry wolves that have finally caught up with their prey in the midst of the night.
At some point, Fan Changyu no longer had either the strength or the will to fight off those feelings. Towards a man who at first was no more than a beautiful stranger, an exquisite jade jewellery she fished out from the snow and brought home to give it a second life. Although, as she’d seen it herself many times, Xie Zheng was rather a sharp sword than a pretty decoration worn by some royalty. Deadly and ruthless and unwilling to yield to anyone in this world, it seemed…
To anyone, but her.
As they rush to his room, Fan Changyu nearly carries him, again, with Xie Wu and his other loyal guards looking pale and stricken at the view of their lord’s back beaten into a pulp, whipped as if he were some stray dog, or a pig laid down for butchering. She feels tears rolling down her cheeks silently as she removes pieces of his torn robes, layer by layer, revealing the wounded skin underneath. Out of all the wounds and strikes he had taken over the years, these were the only ones he received selfishly for his own sake - and for hers, too.
“I don’t want to ever see you wounded like this,” she mumbles softly, her voice muffled by tears, yet her hands are steady when she applies the ointment, wondering how this battered flesh of his would heal and just how many scars would be left on his pale back – added to those dozens that’s already there.
“Blessings are hard to come by these days. Especially for this Marquis of Wu’An,” his voice is barely there, his lips moving ever so lightly as she carefully bandages his torso, “Now not even the elders from the underworld can curse me for this union. No one would dare…” his voice trails off, and Changyu glances at his pale face that was almost radiating a light of its own in the dim-lit room, with only a handful of lamps burning here and there, as if not to disturb their peace. She gently pulls a few loose strands of hair from his face, feeling his skin burning up, reminding her of all those other times when she watched his features sharpen from wounds and blood loss and lack of sleep, which somehow made him look even more stunning – something she never dared say out loud, yet now wished she did. Marquis of Wu’An was a proud and powerful man – when they first met he didn’t even want her help in dressing the wounds, preferring to fumble with them on his own no matter how hard and painful it was, yet now, it seemed, he was starving for touch – her touch specifically, no matter how casual, no matter how bruised and wounded he was, no matter whether there was a reason to lightly brush his fingers against hers, or not, he would still occasionally do it, secretly watching her reaction as if still not sure that she’d accept it, that she would be willing, that he’s even allowed.
They’ve spoken about that darn divorce for so long, the idea must have been instilled somewhere in his consciousness that she had actually wanted that to begin with. While she was ready to let go of him at one point in time, it wasn’t because she didn’t care – she simply thought a union of that sort, with Marquis of Wu’An out of all people, was simply impossible for her. A marriage that would be condemned by the whole realm, not to mention this bloodthirsty clan of his that needed to be appeased this way, like some ruthless gods of the ancient lore.
He moves his head a little, his eyes only half-open, reacting to her touch as if it alone could bring him from the brink of death, like a gentle pull towards life that was more powerful than any other force in this world. That, for some reason, made her heart ache, thinking, and now knowing, that before there was no one to touch him like this, with a softness and understanding, as much as she could master of the burdens he was carrying, but more than that – simply with love that she felt was blooming more and more these days, like a timid flower that started budding too late and then took its time to unfold, unravelling its beauty for everyone to see, but most importantly – for him. She didn’t know any pretty words to express her feelings properly. Xie Zheng was well-read and seemed to have a better understanding of the human heart than herself, yet she had seen her parents while growing up, and she knew what love felt like from the way they talked and took care of each other, from all those small signs of affection they showed and the way they were attentive to each other’s needs. They made no grand gestures like Xie Zheng, but then again, they may have in the past.
Her own love was spilling inside her chest like a puddle of warm liquid gold, like the sun gently caressing the fields during hot summer days, and like fire crackling peacefully in the middle of the wintery night when you could simply sit by and warm up your hands and, eventually, your whole body until it felt more alive than ever before.
She feels so soft then, and leans in to lay a gentle kiss on his burning forehead, knowing that this stubborn man, who had endured so much for her sake, simply for the right to be with her, no matter what hardships would follow, needs all the warmth in this world. And she was willing to give it to him, in fact, she started craving it herself, as if that warm puddle of golden light inside her chest was overflowing with love, the one that had to be shared or she’d simply burst like an overripe fruit, spilling it all over. Now, she felt she wanted to pour it all into him. In the days to come, be it in a battle by his side, or having a jug of wine together, being apart on some secret missions, or together in the closeness of a room, sharing the night, and the bed, and the whole life together – she wanted to be there for him.
She kisses his cheek then, and the corner of his mouth, for his face is mostly hidden in the nook of his hand, making it impossible to go for more, to taste him, to hold him, to be with him like she dreamed about so many times, but never dared make it happen. Changyu thinks that now, when even Xie Zheng’s clan is appeased with his sacrifice, there’s nothing in this world that could hold them back.
“You really… found the perfect time for this,” he chuckles softly, attempting to move, but she doesn’t let him, gently pressing a hand to his shoulder. Knowing the way that he is… he’d probably attempt to drag her into his bed right here and now, but that was not going to happen, not when his back was beaten into a pulp like this.
“We’ll find a better time. You need to rest for now,” she nearly whispers, now knowing deep in her heart she doesn’t want to see that look on his face ever again, the one still wondering whether she wants him or not, whether he’s allowed to be close, and then even closer, until there’s nothing but skin separating them from each other. That she wanted Xie Zheng just as much as Yan Zheng, and maybe even more.
“Just give me a day… or two,” he finally closes his eyes again, eyelashes fluttering gently and casting pretty shadows under his eyes, and falls into a deeper sleep from all the medicine he’s taken. Changyu watches him for some time, lost in thought, enjoying the closeness and wondering just how many more layers this man had, and that she really, really wanted to peel them off one by one until there were none left. In the days to come, even if she can’t share his burdens as the Marquis of Wu’An, she can shield him from other painful things, that are cold and prickly and can turn a man’s heart into stone if left untended for too long.
She then closed her eyes and lowered her head onto the bed close to his, feeling his light, barely-there breath and the warmth that was emanating from his body. She would guard his life and his heart that lay so open and vulnerable before her. And then she would become his just as much as he belonged to her.