✧𝔻𝔼𝕍𝕆𝕋𝕀𝕆ℕ~ 𝒶𝓃𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝑜𝓃𝑒𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓉 𝒸𝑜𝓁𝓁𝑒𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃~✧

✧Jiang Cheng- Realization ✧

A/N- Wang Zhuocheng is a gorgeous man both in face and in attitude. I love how he, Wang Yibo, and Xiao Zhan all have cute pictures with bunnies. It makes me happy lol.

Also this is an x female reader. Sorry about that. It just worked better for the story. Sorry.

YOU WERE LOUNGING on the floor next to the lotus throne of your husband, Jiang Cheng, waiting for him to return. When word came to the throne room that his disowned brother Wei Wuxian had returned to Yunmeng, Cheng had rushed out in a rage to face him, despite the counsel of his servants and you, a counsel that did not approve of rushing at anyone without sufficient provocation.

"Foolish Cheng," you muttered, playing with your hair and the many tassels and pins you had on your outfit and in your long h/c hair. "You'll get yourself hurt that way."

A servant rushed into the room, their face red with tears and embarrassment. When you saw their red face, you leapt up to your feet and rushed to their side, worried for their health. What had happened to aggravate an usually stoic Jiang clan servant to a point that their face reflected their emotions in such a way?

"What is it? What happened?" you questioned frantically, checking their body for wounds in a useless display of concern. They obviously weren't injured, they weren't displaying any signs of any physical injury like sweating, blood, exhaustion, or any other signs that made the presence of any physical wounds obvious. So why were they like this?

"Clan Leader Jiang- he's... he-"

You were even more worried now. Hearing the name of your husband said in such a panicked way was never a cause for any good feelings. Annoyingly, your mind automatically went to imagining the worst case scenario. Images of your husband lying down dead on a section of the pier, stabbed from behind by his bastard brother before he could even lift up his sword to defend himself, filled your head. When a
you tried to shake them away, more images arose. And none of them were pleasant.

"A-Cheng!" you wailed, pressing your hands over your spherical, pregnant stomach as if you were trying to hold the baby inside it, comfort it over the death of a father he had never even seen.

In fact, his two eyes may have not even been formed yet. It had only been a month since gestation, and you knew nothing about childbirth. Did children have developed organs a month after gestation? You doubted so. But either way, you hoped and prayed that your love, your everything, your soulmate, your darling Jiang Cheng hadn't died. You couldn't handle it if he had.

"Master Wanyin is asking for you. He's in his old bedroom, the one he slept in as a child. And if you'll accept my nonprofessional opinion, he's not doing too well. I would rush there to comfort him."

The words of the servant made you sigh deeply in relief. Your husband wasn't dead, he just wanted to see you. And you would rush to be with him as fast as your legs could carry you. You thanked the servant for bringing you the news and told them not to worry, their master would be just fine. Then you got up and started running with both your hands on your wobbling stomach, running as fast as you could to the old bedroom of Jiang Cheng and his now-disowned brother Wei Wuxian.

When you reached the door, you heard loud sobs from inside it and were concerned. You stopped before entering and called out to your husband to see if he wanted to see you, or if the servant had been lying. You didn't want to hurt his feelings by intruding on private moments. Even if he was hurt badly, if he asked to be left alone, you would most definitely leave your husband alone. His temper was something even those that were closest to him feared.

"A-Cheng, are you alright? Will you let me come comfort you?"

There was no response, but the sound of sobs got louder, and you heard the sounds of things being thrown and hitting walls. This kind of violent behavior was uncharacteristic of your husband. You had pretty much hugged and soothed all his outbursts like this out of him. So it showed you a lot that he was having these childish tantrums again. Even after years of marriage, years of coaxing him into just accepting failures and flaws, smiling through the pain, keeping a steady head... even after years of education, he still lost his head when mad.

You opened the door and kept your eyes down, focusing on the purple of Cheng's skirt, not gif tear-filled dark eyes and turbulent face. You could see Zidian lighting up purple on his trembling hands, and you could sense that he'd fully lost control of himself. His inhibitions were being held onto by a thread. Soon, he would go completely crazy. And you couldn't let that happen to the man you loved.

You knelt down by his side and wrapped your arms around him, your heart breaking when he was unresponsive to your gentle touch. Even when you swept his hair up off of his sweat-drenched neck and pulled a stick out of your hair to masterfully sweep his straight brown hair up into a bun, topping it off with the purple-tasseled stick, he stayed silent, just shaking with sobs.

"A-Cheng, look at me," you begged, leaning your head against his chest that once had been so muscular, but now felt so bony. The stress of being clan leader had made him lose a lot of weight and turned his appearance into that of a much older man. It truly hurt your heart to see the man you loved like this. But there was nothing you could do. You had no power at all, no power to do anything but just watch your husband suffer.

Finally, he responded in a way. He wrapped his arms around your body and pulled you closer to him. Your head fell naturally onto his lap, and you ended up reclining on the ground in a very uncomfortable position, clutching your stomach as he ran his fingers through your hair to try and soothe himself.

"What happened?" you asked him, concerned for him even after his breakdown finished.

"Wei Ying... he..."

Cheng took a shaky breath, and you sat back up to hold his hands, knowing it was hard for him to talk about his brother, the brother he had stabbed in the stomach and disowned just because he was a dissenter and didn't follow the rules. You couldn't imagine the pain he must have felt putting his sword through his brother's stomach. You couldn't handle doing that to your own brother. You wouldn't do that to your own brother. He had a hard life, your darling husband.

"Take your time," you told Cheng, who was frantically stammering trying to tell you what had gotten him so worked up.

You began to stroke his hair again, humming a popular ballad as you did so. Stroking Cheng's hair always comforted him. He was like a child in the way he got comforted. A sweet, darling, misunderstood child. You loved him so much.

"I'll wait as long as it takes for you to tell me."

***
"H-he to-took it! W-without telling me! Took it out and p-put it in- in me! Not- not fair!"

Tears were running down your cheeks now at Cheng's description of his brother's kindness. Even though the Jiang clan had hurt him, even though Cheng had never treated him like a proper brother, Wei Wuxian had given his adopted brother his golden core. Not because he felt obligated to, but because he loved Cheng despite the terrible things his family had done to him.

"Oh, A-Cheng. It must hurt, knowing that," you whispered, holding your husband close as he cried anew. "It must hurt so much."

"It hurts," Cheng sobbed. "Really hurts."

"Oh, Cheng... I'm so sorry," you said. "So, so sorry."

You held your husband as he cried, trying to comfort him as you realized that there was no way you could permanently comfort him. Your efforts were useless. He would forever remember this moment, the moment of his realization that he had failed his brother. It would haunt him the rest of his life. There was nothing you could do to comfort him, even if you held him for the rest of your days. This scar was irreversible.

"I love you, Cheng. I'm so sorry I can't help you," you told him, feeling upset about yourself.

He simply smiled sadly at you and said something that broke your heart even more than it had before.

"It's okay. I'm used to being hurt."

Those words were a realization that would haunt you for the rest of your days.

I'm used to being hurt.