SWHCBB 98

Chapter 98: Yun Chuan, I Love You!

Before dispersing, the wisp of green smoke left behind a final parting message: “Zhiyu, Jiang Chuang, may we meet again in the next life if fate allows.”

Bai Yuan, confused, called out, “Ancestor, what about me?”

But the smoke surged straight toward Wen Jue’s side. A sudden gust of wind blew through the room, lifting his long hair into the air. Then the green smoke brushed gently over his head like a soft hand, and dissipated completely beside him.

Bai Yuan: …

That was his fox clan’s Ancestor, a figure people could go a thousand years without glimpsing. He had used up a one-time-only summoning opportunity… and now that ancestor had just drifted away, sparkling and ethereal.

Couldn’t he have at least told him where the rest of their kin were hiding now?

With the Ancestor gone, Bai Yuan lost interest in entertaining the others. He issued a cold dismissal: “Since nothing’s wrong, you two can leave. While you were asleep, the Ancestor used her last bit of power to heal Wen Jue’s external wounds. They’re no longer a concern. Starting tomorrow, come back to detoxify the remaining poison.”

Wen Jue pressed a hand to his left chest. The pain was indeed much lighter, and with the wind’s passing, his whole body felt far better.

Jiang Chuang still wasn’t fully reassured and wanted to confirm once more, “Will Zhiyu’s eyesight come back?”

“It will.”

Only then did Jiang Chuang finally breathe easy. The two of them gave solemn thanks before leaving hand in hand.

Wen Jue hadn’t returned to a world of darkness in a long time. He had seen how bright and vibrant the world could be. And now, plunged back into shadow, even if only temporarily, he couldn’t help but feel a bit unsettled and lost.

He gripped Jiang Chuang’s hand tightly and stayed close to his side. In this unpredictable darkness, only being near Jiang Chuang could bring him peace.

But this time, before they even made it far, Jiang Chuang, as usual, lifted him up into his arms. Perhaps he sensed Zhiyu’s mood, he tilted his head and kissed the top of his hair. “It’s alright. You’ll recover soon.”

Wen Jue curled his lips into a small smile and nodded.

Not far ahead, Changning stood hesitating, he seemingly wanted to approach. Jiang Chuang glanced at him and shook his head.

So Changning simply stayed put, watching Jiang Chuang carry Wen Jue away. Seeing that the air between them was still as close and natural as ever, he finally relaxed.

Jiang Chuang didn’t want anyone disturbing their time alone. He was selfish, he only wanted to keep Zhiyu for himself, not letting him spare even a sliver of attention for others.

In that dream, he had seen a side of Zhiyu he never had before. For the first time, he truly understood what Zhiyu had been thinking.

Every harsh word, every hurtful stab, Zhiyu had been cutting himself just as deeply.

During those years when Jiang Chuang was bitter and angry, disheartened and grieving, Zhiyu’s pain must have been even worse.

But back then, they each served different masters, with no other options. There was no middle ground, only life and death. They had to bury all their feelings, because whoever cared more would be the one who fell deepest and shattered the worst.

It wasn’t until they fled together that they finally realized, there were no winners in that falling out. Both had already prepared to die for the other.

The Ancestor had said: Wen Jue had no past life, and no next life. He was the anomaly in this world. If the Ancestor hadn’t reversed time, then what had happened was irreversible.

His Zhiyu would never have another lifetime. Their ending would have been to die together beneath that cliff, Zhiyu never knowing he had already been forgiven… that Jiang Chuang had chosen to die for him.

Suddenly, a warm hand touched Jiang Chuang’s face. A thumb brushed the corner of his eye.

“Why are you crying?” came Wen Jue’s voice, soft with concern and confusion.

Jiang Chuang rubbed his cheek against that hand, words caught in his throat. He wanted to bring up their past life but feared Wen Jue might still mind. So he only mumbled, “Nothing… I was scared.”

“Scared of what?” Wen Jue hooked his arms around Jiang Chuang’s neck and gently wiped the tears from his face. But every time he brushed one away, another welled up and fell. He couldn’t keep up, so he gave up.

Jiang Chuang choked out, “Scared you wouldn’t want me anymore.”

That accusation, delivered in a tearful, hoarse voice, landed straight in Wen Jue’s heart.

He was just about to say “How could I not?” when he remembered, in both the first lifetime and this one, there had been times he considered not wanting Jiang Chuang.

In their first life, it was because of their opposing stances. In this life, it was because he doubted Jiang Chuang’s sincerity.

The power in their relationship had always been in Wen Jue’s hands. Jiang Chuang had offered up his heart; whether to accept it, reject it, or crush it was up to Zhiyu.

No wonder Jiang Chuang had been so hurt…

Wen Jue bit his lip and finally couldn’t hold back, burying his face in Jiang Chuang’s shoulder, his voice thick with tears. “I did want you… I’ve always wanted you.”

He hadn’t dared to before. Later, he thought he couldn’t. Now, he could finally admit his desire honestly.

Jiang Chuang carried him into the inner courtyard. Once in their room, he kicked the door shut behind him and still wouldn’t put him down, instead sitting on the bed with Zhiyu in his lap.

Wen Jue, eyes swollen from crying, was gently wiped by Jiang Chuang, who embraced him tightly. The two of them, holding each other in quiet tears, might’ve looked silly to outsiders.

But Jiang Chuang didn’t care. He sniffled and mumbled miserably, “When you said those things yesterday, I really thought you didn’t want me anymore. That even without Prince Yi or the throne, you’d still leave me.”

Wen Jue shook his head, swallowing his emotions. “Before I figured things out, I never really considered leaving you. I was just scared… scared that if one day you realized the version of me you love isn’t who I really am, you’d stop wanting me.”

“And now?” Jiang Chuang asked.

Wen Jue took a deep breath and answered solemnly, “Now I understand. What you love isn’t any one version of me, it’s who I am. My essence. Even if my appearance, voice, or body changed, you’d still recognize me. Just like how I… love you. Isn’t that right?”

“Mm…” Jiang Chuang’s voice trembled again. He didn’t think crying made him less of a man, but all these tears were really getting in the way of the heartfelt things he wanted to say.

So he just hugged Wen Jue tighter. “Say it… again…”

“What?” Wen Jue didn’t quite catch the muffled, tear-filled words.

Jiang Chuang: “Say it again. Say you love me. You’ve never actually said it before.”

Wen Jue had never once directly told him ‘I love you.’ He always avoided the phrase or used ‘like’ instead. Or else he’d indirectly affirm Jiang Chuang’s importance to him.

Jiang Chuang had known, of course. But he never forced it. Even if he had to wait forever, he never doubted Zhiyu’s love. He just kept waiting, and finally, he didn’t have to anymore.

Wen Jue paused, then held him tighter and whispered:

“I love you, Yunchuan.”

Admitting he needed him, completely falling for him, turns out it wasn’t so hard after all.

A tear slipped from the corner of Wen Jue’s eye. Word by word, he said with clarity and weight:

“Yunchuan, I love you!”

Jiang Chuang wiped away his own tears, his voice finally lifting with joy. “I love you too!”