[Chapter warning for: suicidal thoughts.]
The scent of rust was too heavy. Yet it wasn't overwhelming, instead it calmed his senses.
Cold crept from his fingertips to his chest, resembling a frost. It spread out over his entire being in no time and drained the warmth of his body.
Yang YueChen lost his sight to the haze that took over his eyes. His hearing to the silence of the cave. His touch to the air, stabbing cold. His body numb and unfeeling.
However a sound rang out in his mind, screaming his name. Hands dragged and pulled, desperate, trying to take him to somewhere.
He should be dead.
Twenty phantom swords summoned from a curse penetrated his body, swords that he couldn't pull out. Not even a god could withstand the pain of darkness devouring their soul.
Maybe he had died.
But it wouldn't explain why he still had a thought. However, his lack of movement told him that he was beyond saving. There was no heartbeat, no breathing.
Yang YueChen died.
At the age sixteen, only a month away from turning seventeen.
Well, the boy had long waited for the day he would breathe his last breath. He half expected this to happen, and to tell the truth, he didn't feel remorse.
Yuan Ji ascended, YueChen died. It was simple. One had to fall for other's rise.
One intrusive thought repeated itself for the nth time. 'I have to return home'
But where? He died, everything ended, there was no way to fix anything, he couldn't come back home.
'Home, Yuan Ji is waiting.'
The deity had ascended to heavens, a place beyond his reach. Somewhere he didn't belong to, in the end, he couldn't keep his own promise.
'Yuan Ji is waiting.'
Wouldn't it be nice, if he woke up from this dream. Maybe the MiZi village never existed, maybe Zhen Ding Lang Jian never followed his owner, maybe if only Yuan Ji never interfered with his life. Now it was too late.
He might wake up, back to the time he was only thirteen, living his life as a scapegoat for others' momentary joys. He might not meet the deity, create a contract with him, and spend three years together.
But if he had to sacrifice the three years knowing the other male… would he do it?
'Yuan Ji is waiting', he thought, 'in a home I once wished for'.
But sorry, I can't come back to you.
Don't wait for me. Live your own life.
I don't regret my decision, although I do regret I couldn't hear your voice anymore.
Don't blame yourself for my death.
I'm really sorry I can't keep another promise.
Before he knew it, his mind blanked and he finally lost his consciousness.
•
Since young, I never had a chance against life.
And the tragic part of me, it wasn't the hardship or the burden that killed me. It was hope.
My family tore apart under my touch and decisions. Father believed that I was the reason why my parents fought with each other. Mother convinced herself that she was right, I was wrong. Sister…. She didn't do anything wrong actually. But the fact that she was too young to understand what's happening added a blow to me.
I grew up thinking that I was nothing but the tool anyone can dispose after they no longer need me. I grew up thinking that I had to be the one holding the puppet strings so I wouldn't be hurt anymore.
That's maybe why I was so cold to others and rarely spoke.
Maybe, in the end, everything was my fault.
My role as scapegoat, my role as a tool, being ignored, bullied, and lonely was an inevitable karma I would reap. I always thought about it.
If I were from a different family, or born into a different era, would there be a significant change?
I had nothing else but a weak constitution and ruined soul. Broken spirit dwelt in a body too young and mind too old. Barren hope tore apart my charred heart.
When I grew up, I knew better than to have a lingering attachment to others. The less feelings I had, the less pain I'd get. Everything was simple.
Until a god, whose fate might be as terrible as mine, interfered with my daily routines.
In the first glance, one could tell he only stayed because he couldn't leave. He had no intention to stay or to help. Yuan Ji seemed unlike other gods who descended on their own will. He was searching for something. That, was the only string that connected him to me.
I understood from beginning that to gods, mortal lives were nothing but a disposable tool. So, I decided to make use of this fool as long as I could. Without having an emotional attachment to him.
Days passed and our bond became stronger. Clearly, Yuan Ji didn't care about anything. He wanted his memories back and I didn't have them. But he proved that even someone so far up could feel. And feelings were never a weakness.
I never hesitated to commit suicide, yet I hadn't done it. Even after meeting him, my hand would sometimes subconsciously press on my windpipe, leaving a faint red mark.
Things changed gradually when Yuan Ji noticed this behavior.
The deity offered a hand with a promise.
I was once more a boy who cried and laughed, not the puppeteer whose hands held the strings high in the light.
When I realized it, I was standing on a crumbling iceberg. The cold facade I nurtured for years melted. The warm waves of his kindness were the ones that did it.
Ever since then, I spent two years learning how to be a human again.
A promise neither of us will break.
Until the day I have to throw away everything in order to survive.
Yuan Ji became the hope that anchored me back to humanity.