Chapter 120 The Determination to Leave
It was late at night, but Wei Wuxian had no desire to sleep.
Lan Wangji was already fast asleep, his breathing steady. Moonlight filtered through the window lattice onto his face, outlining his handsome features. These past few days, Lan Wangji had practically exhausted himself caring for him. During the day, he had to deal with Yunshen Pavilion affairs, and at night, he had to watch over him through the pain. The dark circles under his eyes had never faded.
Wei Wuxian gently pulled his hand away, his movements so gentle as if he didn't want to disturb the sleeping Moonlight. He moved to the bedside, picked up his phone, and opened the photo album.
The album was filled with photos and videos of Sizhui. There were pictures of him chasing rabbits in the mass grave as a child, of him timidly bowing upon arriving at Yunshen Pavilion, of him standing in front of the school in his school uniform, and even of him smiling under the Ferris wheel at the amusement park before he fell ill. Every picture was as clear as if it had been taken yesterday.
Wei Wuxian's fingertips brushed across the boy's smiling face on the screen, and his eyes gradually became moist.
He missed Sizhui very much.
But he felt more sorry for the person sleeping beside him.
Lan Wangji should have been like the bright moon, untainted by dust, but because of him, he was trapped in this small courtyard, worrying about his illness and his safety day after day. He had seen Lan Wangji secretly applying medicine in front of the mirror - a few days ago, he fell in the rain while trying to find a urgently needed herbal ingredient for him, and his knee was covered with a large bruise.
He is Lan Wangji's calamity.
Wei Wuxian closed the album and looked out the window. The night was thick, and the bamboo forest swayed gently in the wind, as if sighing softly.
An idea gradually became clear in his mind, with a hint of determination and a hint of relief.
Maybe he should leave.
Not leaving forever, just temporarily. He wanted to find Wen Ning and ask if there was a complete cure, even if there was only a one in ten thousand chance. He didn't want to burden Lan Wangji anymore, didn't want to watch him wither away for him.
When he gets better, when he can stand in the sun like a normal person, he will come back, back to Lan Wangji, back to Si Zhui.
This decision was like a seed, quickly taking root and sprouting in my heart.
Wei Wuxian took a deep breath, threw back the quilt, and very quietly put on his clothes, wrapping himself tightly in his thick cloak. The night was very cold, and he couldn't help but shiver, but he didn't stop.
He walked to the bedside and took one last look at Lan Wangji. In the moonlight, his eyelashes were long and his lips were tightly pursed, as if he were in some uneasy dream.
“Lan Zhan, wait for me.” Wei Wuxian’s voice was as soft as a whisper. “Wait until I come back.”
He turned around, picked up the wallet and cell phone on the table, as well as Wen Ning's address note, quietly pushed open the door, and walked into the thick night.
In the morning, when Lan Wangji woke up, the place beside him was already cold.
His heart sank suddenly and he woke up instantly.
"Wei Ying?"
No one responded.
The room was empty except for the cloak, neatly folded and placed at the foot of the bed. The medicine bowl on the table was empty; it was the bowl of calming soup he had fed Wei Wuxian last night.
Lan Wangji's heart seemed to be gripped by an invisible hand. He stumbled out of the room. The courtyard was empty and the door was ajar, as if silently telling him that the man was gone.
"Wei Ying!" Lan Wangji's voice echoed in the silent courtyard, filled with unprecedented panic.
He took out his cell phone and dialed Wei Wuxian with trembling hands.
"The number you dialed is turned off..."
The cold reminder sound was like a basin of ice water, pouring from head to toe.
Lan Wangji leaned against the doorframe, his fingertips cold. He knew Wei Wuxian too well. This fool must be blaming himself and trying to carry it all alone.
How could he leave? How dare he leave?!
Lan Wangji immediately took out his phone and called Wen Ning, his voice trembling with anxiety: "Wen Ning, is Wei Ying with you?"
Wen Ning on the other end of the phone was stunned. "No, Han Guang-jun, what happened to Young Master Wei?"
Lan Wangji's heart sank to the bottom.
He didn't go to Wen Ning.
So where will he go?
Countless possibilities flashed through Lan Wangji's mind, each one causing him to shudder with fear. Wei Wuxian was so weak, sensitive to the cold, and coughing up blood. Where could he go alone?
"Han Guangjun? Please say something. Has something happened to Master Wei?" Wen Ning's voice was filled with anxiety.
"He left." Lan Wangji's voice was hoarse. "He left a note saying he'd come find you... but he didn't."
"What?!" Wen Ning exclaimed, "I'll go find him right away! Don't worry, Young Master Wei is so smart, he'll be fine!"
"Yeah." Lan Wangji responded, but his heart was in a mess.
He turned and rushed into the room, searching for any clues Wei Wuxian might have left behind. On the bedside table, besides the empty medicine bowl, there was a note hidden under the phone.
It was Wei Wuxian's handwriting, a bit sloppy, as if written in a hurry:
"Lan Zhan, wait until I come back. Don't tell Si Zhui."
No address, no reason, just this short sentence.
Lan Wangji clutched the note tightly, his knuckles turning white. The paper was thin, yet it felt as heavy as a thousand-pound boulder, choking him.
Wei Ying, you bastard.
Do you think you can stop being a burden to me by doing this? Do you think I will let you go alone?
Lan Wangji's eyes turned red. He turned around abruptly, grabbed his coat and rushed out.
He would go find him, wherever he was, and bring him back.
This fool has never been a burden. He is his life and the meaning of his existence.
Without him, no matter how big the yard is or how beautiful the moonlight is, it is just an empty city.
Lan Wangji's figure disappeared in the morning mist, leaving only the empty courtyard and the wisteria flowers swaying in the wind, silently telling of an unfulfilled promise.
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