Chapter 175 Sense of Proportion
When Lan Wangji walked into the kitchen, this was the scene he saw - Wei Wuxian leaning on the sink, his eyes red, holding the soup spoon in his hand but not moving, his eyes fixed on Si Zhui who was standing in front of the stove, with an unbreakable pity.
Lan Sizhui was standing on tiptoe, carefully handing Wei Wuxian a tissue, and softly comforting him like a little adult, "Daddy, don't cry. It's my fault. I shouldn't have made you sad."
His heart felt like it was flooded with warm water, sour and soft.
After Xie Lian and his wife left last night, Wei Wuxian hugged him and cried for a long time, saying that he shouldn't have let Si Zhui know the truth and shouldn't have let the child bear all this at such a young age.
He just patted his back gently without saying much - it was a bit painful, and it would only be truly over after he digested it himself.
"It's time to eat." Lan Wangji walked forward and naturally took the soup spoon from Wei Wuxian's hand. He poured the stewed medicinal food into the bowl, and also added some porridge and side dishes. "Fill your stomach first, and drink it after the medicine has warmed up."
Wei Wuxian said nothing, simply letting him guide him to the dining table. His eyes followed Sizhui, who was clearing the dishes in the kitchen. The child was quick and nimble, wiping even the cracks in the corners, making the table look much neater than usual.
Lan Wangji pushed the porridge in front of him and gently pressed his temples with his fingertips: "Don't think too much."
Wei Wuxian looked up at him and said in a muffled voice, "Look at him, how can he still be a child? He used to always make a fuss and ask you to feed him, but now he drinks from his bowl in small sips, even picking up and eating the rice grains that fall on the table... Lan Zhan, I'm pushing him too hard."
"I'm not forcing him." Lan Wangji picked up the spoon, scooped a spoonful of porridge and passed it to his mouth, "Si Zhui is sensible on his own."
Wei WuXian didn't say anything, just stared at him intently. "But I don't want him to be so sensible. I'd rather he be like JingYi, getting into trouble every day and being punished by the teacher to copy the house rules every day, than..."
Before he could finish his words, Lan Wangji interrupted him: "Si Zhui's understanding is not a burden, it's his nature. You should be proud of him."
His voice was deep, yet filled with unquestionable conviction: "A heart of gratitude should be cultivated from a young age. He knows you've sacrificed for him and is willing to learn to repay you, which is not a bad thing. It's just..." He paused, his gaze turning to Si Zhui at the kitchen door, "You have to strike a balance."
Wei Wuxian finally regained consciousness and, looking at the porridge Lan Wangji handed to him, he obediently opened his mouth. The warm porridge slid down his throat, carrying a faint rice fragrance, and the depression in his heart seemed to dissipate a little.
After dinner, Lan Wangji asked Sizhui to pack his schoolbag and took him to the study.
The study was filled with the scent of ink and old books. Lan Wangji sat behind his rosewood desk, motioning Yizhui to sit on the small stool opposite. The halo of light from the desk lamp fell between them, creating a particularly solemn atmosphere.
"Was it your idea to get up early today to make medicinal food?" Lan Wangji spoke first, looking at his son calmly.
"Yes." Si Zhui nodded, his back straight. "I want Daddy to get better soon."
“Hmm.” Lan Wangji responded without commenting immediately. Instead, he pulled out a copy of “Ya Zheng Ji” from the bookshelf and flipped to a page. “Do you know what this page says?”
Si Zhui leaned over to take a look and whispered, "Talking about 'etiquette' and 'moderation', it's said that when dealing with people, one should be respectful but also know when to stop. Too much is as bad as too little."
"Well said." Lan Wangji closed the book, his gaze fixed on his face. "Gratitude is the same. You appreciate your father's sacrifices and want to take care of him, which is 'respectful'; but if you neglect your studies, blame yourself, or even forget what a child should be like, then it's 'excessive'."
Si Zhui's shoulders trembled slightly, and he lowered his head, picking at the corner of his clothes with his fingers: "I... I just want to help quickly."
"To help, you don't have to learn how to stew medicinal foods or channel your spiritual energy." Lan Wangji's voice softened. "You can help your father the most by going to school on time, studying hard, and being happy every day. You can also help him by not making him worry about you."
He paused, remembering Wei Wuxian's red eyes, and added, "Your father cried for a long time last night. He wasn't angry with you, but out of heartache. He always said that he owed you a carefree childhood and wanted you to live a more comfortable life. The way you're doing now makes him feel even more guilty."
Si Zhui raised his head suddenly, tears filling his eyes instantly: "I didn't mean it... I just... I just can't sit still when I think of all the suffering Daddy has endured for me..."
"I know." Lan Wangji reached out and gently touched his head. "But you have to remember, your father didn't save you so you could live in guilt. He wanted you to grow up well, see the beautiful scenery in this world, and live the life he couldn't—free, passionate, and carefree."
He had never said these words to Sizhui. He had always thought that the child was too young to understand these heavy expectations. But now it seemed that some truths, if explained earlier, could actually help him unburden himself.
Si Zhui stared at Lan Wangji blankly, tears streaming down his face, but he didn't cry out loud. He seemed to understand a little, but also didn't fully understand. He only knew that his father's heartache was not fake, and his father's words were not false. It turned out that the "good things" he wanted to do with all his heart would also make those who loved him sad.
"Then...then what should I do?" he asked with a sob, his voice filled with confusion.
"Just be like before." Lan Wangji's fingertips slid across the top of his head, carrying a familiar warmth. "You act like a spoiled child when you should, and act like a fool when you should. When you come home from school, you'll shout 'Daddy, I'm hungry', and you'll run after kites when you see them.
Just remember, your father is not in good health, so don't pester him to run too far like last time, understand?"
Si Zhui nodded vigorously, tears falling even harder, but this time with a relieved tone: "I understand! I will never let Daddy get tired again!"
Lan Wangji looked into his red eyes, as if seeing the little boy who had hugged his legs and timidly called "Brother Xian" in the mass grave many years ago. Time passed quickly, and the child had grown up, learned to be grateful, and should also know how to find balance in love.
"Go and have fun. Lin Yan just called and said he brought the carving knife." Lan Wangji patted him on the back.
Si Zhui sniffed, stood up, and when he reached the door, he turned back and whispered, "Father, thank you."
Lan Wangji watched his back as he ran away, the solemnity in his eyes gradually dissipated, and was filled with a gentle smile.
He knew that Sizhui's transformation wouldn't happen overnight, nor would the sensible nature etched in his bones vanish immediately. But that didn't matter; he and Wei Wuxian would be there for him, teaching him little by little how to find peace in gratitude and how to live comfortably in love.
Just like the light in this study, it must be bright enough to illuminate the way forward, yet gentle enough to leave room for improvement.
When he returned to the bedroom, Wei Wuxian was leaning against the bedside flipping through a book. Seeing him come in, he quickly put the book down: "Have you finished talking to Sizhui? How is he?"
Lan Wangji walked over, sat down beside him, and pulled him into his arms: "It's okay. He understands everything."
Wei WuXian finally breathed a sigh of relief and huddled closer to him, "You're amazing! I've been talking for so long, and he just keeps crying."
Lan Wangji lowered his head and placed a kiss on his forehead, his voice low and gentle: "Because you love him too much, you can't bear to say harsh words."
Wei Wuxian snorted, but couldn't help but smile. The sunlight from the window shone through the gauze curtains, landing on their clasped hands, bringing warmth.
The laughter of Si Zhui and Lin Yan could be heard from downstairs, as clear as wind chimes, mixed with the rustling sound of wood being scratched by a carving knife, depicting a peaceful and tranquil time.
He suddenly felt that perhaps the so-called perfection was never achieved overnight.
Just as Si Zhui needs time to learn to balance gratitude and freedom, he also needs time to learn to let go of guilt, accept his child's understanding, and accept that he is worthy of love.
And Lan Wangji would always give him a gentle push when he was confused, telling him that love in the world should be kept within limits and last forever.
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