Chapter 162 It's Like an Old Friend
After Lin Yan left, Lan Sizhui sat at his desk for a long time, clutching the letter from Wei Wuxian. The edges of the paper were wrinkled from his fingertips, and the warmth between the lines seeped through the paper, soothing the small smugness he'd felt when Lin Yan praised him that afternoon. It also reminded him of his father's red eyes from coughing.
"Father," he suddenly looked up at Lan Wangji who was clearing the table, "Lin Yan said that his grandfather was a woodcarver and could carve wood into little rabbits."
Lan Wangji paused, the soft sound of porcelain bowls colliding echoing in the quiet kitchen. "Well, you can ask him to teach you later."
Si Zhui nodded vigorously, then looked down at the letter. He suddenly noticed a hint of uncertainty in his father's handwriting—some strokes trembled slightly, as if he had used great force to hold the pen. He remembered Wei Wuxian leaning on the sofa that afternoon, his face as pale as rice paper, and his heart suddenly soured.
"I'll go get Dad a glass of warm water." He grabbed the glass of water on the table and rushed into the bedroom with light steps.
Wei WuXian was half leaning against the headboard, flipping through a picture album. Seeing him come in, he smiled and raised the drawing in his hand: "Look, this is the picture you drew of us when you were three years old. All three of us have bunny ears."
The three little figures in the painting were crooked, their heads larger than their bodies, topped with a pair of furry ears, and a few clumps of sloppily drawn grass at their feet. Si Zhui leaned in to take a look, his cheeks flushing slightly. "Back then, I thought Daddy was born in the Year of the Rabbit, so I gave you long ears."
“Now you know what your father’s zodiac sign is?” Wei Wuxian teased him, running his fingertips over the little man in the painting who was grinning with his teeth bared.
"I know! People born in the Year of the Monkey!" Si Zhui exclaimed, then added softly, "Lan Jingyi said that people born in the Year of the Monkey are very naughty."
Wei Wuxian laughed at his amusement, the tickle in his throat rising again. He quickly turned his head to cough, staining his handkerchief with a faint red. Sizhui's smile froze instantly, his small hands tightly gripping the water cup, his knuckles white. "Daddy..."
“It’s okay.” Wei Wuxian put down his handkerchief, took the water cup and took a sip, trying to sound relaxed. “I was just angry because you called me naughty.”
Si Zhui didn't smile, but stretched out his little hand and gently pressed it on his chest. His palm was pressed against the thin pajamas, and he could feel the faint rise and fall underneath: "Daddy, I'll rub it for you and it won't hurt."
His movements were gentle, like caressing fragile porcelain. Wei Wuxian looked down at his serious expression, and suddenly remembered how many years ago, when he had just brought Sizhui out of the mass grave, the little guy had done the same thing, gently patting his back with his chubby little hands and saying in a baby voice, "Brother Xian, it doesn't hurt. Sizhui, blow on it."
Time seemed to have come to a halt at this moment, with the past and present overlapping, making his eyes warm.
“Okay, it’s getting late, go wash up.” Wei Wuxian ruffled his hair and closed the album, placing it on the bedside. “I have to go to school with Lin Yan tomorrow.”
Si Zhui didn't move, but just looked up at him and suddenly said, "Daddy, when I grow up, I will take care of you."
Wei Wuxian's heart suddenly softened, like cotton soaked in warm water: "Okay, Daddy will wait."
After Sizhui left, Lan Wangji walked into the bedroom, holding a bowl of freshly warmed medicine. The medicine was dark brown and had a slightly bitter aroma, gently swaying in the white porcelain bowl.
"It's time to take the medicine." He placed the medicine bowl on the bedside table and helped Wei Wuxian sit up straighter.
Wei Wuxian frowned slightly as he looked at the bowl of medicine. He'd been drinking so much medicine these days that his tongue seemed stained with an indelible bitterness. But he didn't act like a spoiled brat like usual. He simply took the bowl obediently and drank it all in one gulp.
The bitter taste instantly spread over his taste buds, and he couldn't help but frown. Lan Wangji handed him a candy at the right time. It tasted like green apple and had a crisp sweetness.
"Lin Yan came today, and you seemed to like him very much." Lan Wangji wiped the medicine stains from the corners of his mouth. His tone was flat and no emotion could be heard.
"Yeah, he's a good kid. And I always feel like I've seen him before. What about you?" Wei Wuxian said, his voice unclear as he held a candy in his mouth. "He's calm and polite, unlike Jingyi, who gets into trouble every other day."
Lan Wangji said nothing, simply picking up the album and flipping to the amulet Sizhui and Lin Yan had drawn together. The two figures in the painting stood side by side, their swords crooked but radiating a stubborn earnestness. His fingertips gently traced Lin Yan's drawing, and he suddenly remembered how Lin Yan had turned back to glance at Sizhui when he said goodbye that afternoon, his eyes gleaming brightly.
"Si Zhui seems to be very dependent on him." Lan Wangji said suddenly.
“Kids are just like that, they all act like that when they first meet new friends.” Wei WuXian smiled nonchalantly and yawned, “I’m a little sleepy.”
Lan Wangji put down the album, helped him lie down, and covered him with the quilt: "Go to sleep."
Wei Wuxian fell asleep quickly, his breathing even and his brow relaxed. Lan Wangji sat beside the bed, looking at his pale sleeping face, and suddenly a strange emotion welled up in his heart - like watching a seed fall into the soil, knowing it would sprout, but not knowing what it would become.
The moonlight filtered through the gauze curtains, casting dappled shadows on the floor. The distant barking of dogs only served to accentuate the night's stillness. Lan Wangji picked up the empty medicine bowl and quietly walked out of the bedroom, his steps light as if he feared disturbing anything.
In the kitchen, he had just put the medicine bowl into the sink when he heard the sound of rustling papers coming from the living room. He walked over to see that Si Zhui had forgotten to put away the letter written by Wei Wuxian, and the paper was trembling slightly in the wind.
Lan Wangji bent down to pick up the letter, his eyes fixed on the line that read "The best son in the world," his fingertips tightening slightly. He remembered Sizhui's eyes, a much brighter light than usual, as he discussed the sketch with Lin Yan that afternoon; he remembered Lin Yan's whisper of "Your family is so nice" when she saw Sizhui's family portrait; he remembered the two children's shoulders occasionally bumping against each other as they lay on the carpet drawing, and they would blush and move away.
These subtle moments, like scattered beads, are suddenly strung together by an invisible thread, shining warmly in the moonlight.
He folded the letter and put it back on Sizhui's desk, and suddenly understood in his heart - some fate is never earth-shattering, but hidden in the folds of daily life, quietly laying the groundwork when you are not paying attention.
Just like how he had first met Wei Wuxian in the Cloud Recesses many years ago, when he'd been leaning against the wall, making faces at him, the light in his eyes brighter than the stars in the sky. Back then, how could he have imagined that this troublemaker would become his lifelong bond?
Lan Wangji sighed softly and turned back to the bedroom. Wei Wuxian was still asleep, a faint smile on his face, perhaps dreaming of something happy. He sat down beside the bed and held Wei Wuxian's hand. The warmth of his palm seeped through their skin, a comforting and reassuring feeling.
The night is still long, but as long as we have each other and the child who is growing up by our side, no matter how long the night is, dawn will come.
And those foreshadowings hidden in time will eventually bloom into gentle flowers one day.
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