Chapter 112 The Truth
When Lan Wangji opened his eyes, it was already bright outside the window.
His head was splitting, his limbs felt heavy as if they were filled with lead, and a faint taste of medicine lingered in his throat. He sat up abruptly, and memories of last night instantly came back to him—the meal Wei Wuxian had cooked, the bowl of lotus root and pork rib soup he hadn't dared to drink more of, and the look of determination that flashed in Wei Wuxian's eyes when he handed him the soup.
"Wei Ying!"
Lan Wangji's heart suddenly stopped, and despite the aching pain in his body, he stumbled out of the room. The living room was empty, the food on the table had long since gone cold, and Lan Xichen and the others were still slumped over the table, sound asleep, their breathing steady, clearly having been intoxicated by the tranquilizing powder.
He didn't have time to wake them up, all his attention was focused on one place - Sizhui's ward.
Wei Wuxian must be there.
Lan Wangji stumbled towards the ward. As soon as his hand touched the door handle, he heard a suppressed cough from inside, so hoarse that it seemed to be squeezed out from a broken bellows.
"Wei Ying!" He pushed the door open violently.
The scene before him froze his blood—
Si Zhui was lying on the bed, his face rosy, his breathing steady, and the curve on the monitor rising and falling regularly, obviously he was out of danger.
Wei Wuxian, on the other hand, was curled up on the floor beside the bed, his face as pale as paper, his lips a purplish blue. The wound on his wrist was still bleeding, staining his sleeve red. He heard the noise and raised his head with difficulty, a trace of blood foaming from the corner of his mouth. Seeing Lan Wangji, he smiled weakly, and just as he was about to speak, he was interrupted by a heart-wrenching cough.
“Cough… cough cough…” Wei Wuxian coughed so hard that his whole body was shaking. Every cough seemed like he was going to cough out his lungs, and his forehead was instantly covered with cold sweat.
Lan Wangji rushed over and pulled him into a hug. He felt icy cold to the touch, and his body was as light as a feather, as if it would shatter if he applied even a little force.
"Wei Ying! What did you do?!" Lan Wangji's voice trembled, and his fingertips touched the blood on his chest, which was the wound left when the blood was taken from his heart.
Wei Wuxian leaned in his arms, coughing for a long time before he recovered. His voice was as weak as a mosquito's hum: "Si Zhui... I'm fine..."
"I asked you what you did!" Lan Wangji raised his voice, his eyes red, his gaze swept across the bloodstains on the ground, across the empty medicine bowl next to it, and finally fell on the pile of smoking ashes in the corner of the wall.
It was a burnt medical book, and a few blurry words could still be seen on the remaining pages - "blood transfusion", "heart blood", and "blood deficiency".
Lan Wangji's pupils suddenly contracted, and a terrible thought instantly struck him.
He thought of Wei Wuxian locking himself in the study for seven days and seven nights, of his uncharacteristic calmness today, of the smell of medicine and blood that filled the room...
“You used the blood exchange technique?” Lan Wangji’s voice was trembling, and his hands were shaking as he held Wei Wuxian. “You traded your life for Si Zhui’s?!”
Wei Wuxian closed his eyes and said nothing, which was considered as his agreement.
“Who told you to do this?!” Lan Wangji practically roared, heartache and anger boiling in his chest like magma. “Do you know what this means?! A lifetime of confined to medicinal herbs, six hours of excruciating pain every day, unable to withstand the elements… How can I accept this?!”
“I have no choice…” Wei Wuxian’s voice was filled with tears. He opened his eyes and looked into his red eyes. “Lan Zhan, Si Zhui is dying… I can’t lose him…”
"So I can lose you?!" Lan Wangji interrupted him, tears finally falling, "What do you take me for? Wei Ying, tell me, what do you take me for?!"
He would rather be the one lying here, would rather be the one to bear all this. They were Taoist companions, people who were to accompany each other for life, how could he watch Wei Wuxian push himself to the brink of death in order to save the child?
Wei Wuxian watched him cry, his heart aching as if being cut by a knife. He stretched out his cold hand and wanted to wipe away his tears, but Lan Wangji held his hand tightly.
“I’m sorry… Lan Zhan… I’m sorry…” Wei Wuxian choked, “I didn’t dare tell you… I knew you wouldn’t agree…”
"I'm glad you know!" Lan Wangji's voice was filled with despair. "Do you know how much it hurts me to see you like this? Wei Ying, you're in pain physically, but I'm in pain too!"
Wei Wuxian leaned against his chest, letting his tears fall, soaking his clothes. "I'm fine... really... as long as Sizhui is fine... I'm not afraid of anything..."
“I’m scared!” Lan Wangji hugged him tightly, as if rubbing him into his bones and blood. “I’m afraid you’ll be hurt, afraid you’ll collapse, afraid that one day I’ll wake up and never see you again… Wei Ying, you’re too selfish…”
How can you bear all the pain by yourself and exclude me?
Wei Wuxian didn't say anything, just let him hold him. The coughing started again, this time even more violent than before, as if countless needles were piercing his lungs, the pain made his whole body spasm.
Lan Wangji felt the trembling in his arms, and his heart ached beyond words. All his anger and accusations disappeared in an instant, leaving only overwhelming fear and dread.
He patted Wei Wuxian's back gently, his voice soft and pleading: "Stop coughing... Wei Ying, stop coughing..."
Wei Wuxian coughed for a long time before stopping, leaning weakly in his arms, his eyes vacant.
Lan Wangji looked at his pale face, then suddenly lowered his head and kissed his lips. This kiss smelled of blood and medicine, but was incredibly devout, as if confirming that he was still alive, as if begging him not to leave.
“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji’s voice pressed against his lips, laced with unmistakable determination, “you must not do this again. Your life is mine, and my life is yours. Our lives belong to Sizhui. We live together, and we die together. No one person can make decisions alone anymore.”
Wei Wuxian's tears fell, and he nodded, his voice choked with sobs: "Okay..."
Lan Wangji held him in his arms, saying nothing more, simply feeling the faint heartbeat in his arms. Sunlight streamed in through the window, falling on both of them, but it couldn't dispel the chill that lingered on Wei Wuxian.
He knew that the pain Wei Wuxian would have to endure in the future would be far more horrific than he had imagined. But it didn't matter. He would stay with him, accompany him through every bowl of medicine, accompany him through every painful hour, and accompany him through every day of his life.
They still had a long way to go and he wouldn't leave him alone.
Outside the ward, Lan Xichen and the others had already woken up. Upon hearing the noise inside, they stood at the doorway and did not go in. Lan Xichen looked at the closed door and sighed, his eyes filled with heartache.
Jiang Yanli covered her mouth and tears fell.
Lan Qiren shook his head, turned and left, his back hunched over.
Some pains can only be borne by the person involved himself; some promises can only become more firm in desperate situations.
In the ward, Lan Wangji carefully picked up Wei Wuxian and placed him on the bed next to Sizhui. He fetched the medicine box and gently tended to the wounds on his wrists and chest, his movements as gentle as if he were treating a rare treasure.
Wei Wuxian leaned on the pillow, looked at his serious profile, and suddenly smiled. Although his voice was weak, it was full of satisfaction.
“Lan Zhan…”
"Um?"
"Thank you……"
Lan Wangji raised his head and looked at him, the tenderness in his eyes almost overflowing: "Silly boy."
He lowered his head and placed a soft kiss on Wei Wuxian's forehead.
"Let's go home."
"good."
The sun shone brightly through the window onto the two hospital beds. One had just been pulled back from the brink of death, the other had exhausted herself saving others. But as long as they were together, as long as love remained, there was always hope.
The ashes in the corner were still smoking slowly, like a silent mark, engraving the deep affection that was exchanged for life.
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