Reborn To Be The Imperial Consort [BL]-Chapter 97: Crimson Spider Lily — II

Hu Lijing pushed closer to Li Xinyuan’s shoulder, his body shivering as he attempted to seek some form of comfort and companionship in the latter.

A tough life. He had had a tough life. It was the one fact that he had consciously chosen to overlook time and time again. Perhaps he was afraid of being confronted by the reality of the kind of life he’d led for nearly a thousand years.

Or perhaps it was something else.

But now, when Li Xinyuan said those words to him, it was as if a stubborn fog had been lifted from his eyes, baring the complete painting of the situation to him. Hu Lijing’s situation to Hu Lijing himself.

The nine-tailed fox — from the very moment he was born to the moment moment he had fled from the Spirit Realm — had never truly lived his life for himself. Or on his own terms at least. He never had a true moment of peace, of freedom, of leisure in the ginormous entirety of his life, bar the times he was with Long ZhenHai, that too if he were to discount the years of tension between them before the war had broken out.

Had he ever truly made his own choice? Had Hu Lijing ever been his own person instead of some sort of miracle kit that was born from the flames because an oracle had commanded so—only to decree his and his kinsmen’s annihilation nearly a millennium later?

He didn’t know.

As a kit, he’d lived pressed under the boundless expectations of his clan that he would one day achieve Godhood that no other foxes had been able to achieve in— in, well, ages.

As a youth, perhaps a four or five-tailed fox, he had been pushed into the position of the clan leader and prepared to do so for longer. He had braced himself and stubbornly treaded down the path, holding the clan on his shoulders as he led it in the way it would prosper.

Hu Lijing still wasn’t sure if he should have known better.

For centuries, he had sacrificed his peace, his mind, his body for the clan and worked himself as much as he could. What for? For a flimsy show of prosperity and power.

None of which ever truly aided them in the war. Not in the way it mattered.

People still died, young ones still lost their lives, countless of his kinsmen had still been sacrificed.

Fame, wealth and power.

Three futile shackles that Hu Lijing had pursed all his life proved to be useless in face of true disaster that struck him. When his clan was besieged by the countless other in their mindless goal of satisfying the oracle, neither fame nor wealth had aided him as much as was needed. Power had been a little less useless than the other two, but overall, it made almost next to no difference at all.

No, Hu Lijing had neither been himself nor lived for himself. Ever.

The only times Hu Lijing had ever truly felt like himself had been the moments of silence, of love and of affection that he had shared with Long ZhenHai, the other half of his soul. The only ever times he’d had ever truly felt complete was... Was when he had Long ZhenHai.

But now — for many years in fact — Hu Lijing did not have Long ZhenHai either. While he had had lost everything, his gains were far and few.

One of them being Li Xinyuan, the brat he had raised since he was an infant. The one he saw his own child in — the one he had killed with his own hands or, well, his tongue — before realising that Li Xinyuan was not his child.

He was much more than it had been. Li Xinyuan was a child he loved, one he was willing to raise, one he was willing to hold in his arms, hug and pacify when he cried.

He was the child Hu Lijing had comforted when nightmares got best of him. He was the child Hu Lijing was more than willing to stay with at night when he whined about being scared of dark, of sleeping or of his own dreams. freёwebnoѵel.com

To Hu Lijing, Li Xinyuan was not a disaster. Nor someone he kept alive out of obligation. Li Xinyuan was... Li Xinyuan was someone to be loved. Someone who was not his redemption. Neither to himself, his child nor Long ZhenHai. Li Xinyuan was not an obligation. Never an obligation.

He was Hu Lijing’s child, in all but flesh and blood.

And now the little boy he’d held in his arms, bathed, clothed, and fed with his own hands was comforting him, sharing his pain.

"Xinyuan..." He murmured, voice hoarse as he spoke after having wept for a long time. "Thank you."

He had lived a tough life, he had never lived as or for himself. He never felt complete without Long ZhenHai; all of that was true.

But now, it was not so bad. This kind of life was not so bad. Hu Lijing did not mind accompanying Li Xinyuan for as long as the surgeon would live. After all, Hu Lijing was destined to outline him anyway.

He wrapped his arms around Li Xinyuan’s neck tighter, burying his face in the doctor’s shoulder a touch deeper.

...

Li Xinyuan bit the inside of his lower lip, managing to regulate his breathing pattern again. As long as he could stay calm, Hu Lijing wouldn’t spiral again. Not for the time being.

"Don’t thank me." Li Xinyuan shook his head, his cheek rubbing against the nine-tailed fox’s hair. "Don’t thank me." He repeated, rubbing the latter’s shoulder again.

He was no stranger to guilt. Nor depression, self-loathing and despair. In fact, he was all too familiar with these emotions. More than he would like.

That was why he could take a guess just how much and deeply Hu Lijing must be struggling. Even so, he couldn’t begin to imagine living for so long, loving a person for so long, knowing the destiny that awaited them and being helpless against it.

Giving one single man his all only for him to die for you and in front of you; just so he could save you.

If Li Xinyuan was in Hu Lijing’s shoes... He would have gone mad.

"However, don’t ever entertain the thought of killing yourself again, I beg you." He whispered, resisting the urge to let out a wince as he ground his teeth together. "I do not have the capability to make peace with losing you, Hu Lijing. Please..."