Chapter 178 Scary Brother
As the night deepened, the grandfather clock in the living room ticked, each tick like a knock on Lan Sizhui's heart. He huddled in the corner of the sofa, hugging his knees. The pain in his back was still nagging, but what frightened him more than anything else was the closed door to the study.
Lin Yan has been in there for almost an hour.
There were no footsteps, no coughs, not even the sound of a page turning. The whole villa was eerily quiet, with only the occasional sound of the wind passing by the window and his own uncontrollable sobbing breathing.
He glanced up furtively. The carvings on the study door cast intricate shadows in the moonlight, like an invisible net, trapping him in place. He remembered that every time they argued, Lin Yan would always give in first—either by slipping him a candy or tossing him a broken wooden rabbit as a joke. He had never been as cold as he was today, as cold as ice.
"Brother Lin..." He called out tentatively, his voice as thin as a mosquito, and was swallowed back by his own sobs as soon as it came out.
There was no movement in the study.
Lan Sizhui's tears welled up again, and his large teardrops fell on the fabric of his knees, leaving a small dark stain. He began to wonder: Did Lin Yan no longer want to talk to him? Did he think he was an ignorant and bad boy? Was what he said just now, "I hold you in my heart," just an angry remark?
The more she thought about it, the more scared she became. She couldn't help but cry even louder, with a thick nasal tone, like a kitten left in the rain: "I really know I was wrong... I won't run around with Jin Ling and the others anymore... Brother Lin, can you please come out..."
He slid down from the sofa, stepped barefoot on the cold floor, and inched his way to the study door. The door was made of frosted glass, and he could vaguely see the light on inside, but he couldn't see Lin Yan's figure clearly.
He stretched out his hand, his fingertips about to touch the door, but he suddenly pulled it back, as if afraid of disturbing the person inside. The pain in his back became more distinct at this moment, throbbing with pain, reminding him that the punishment he had just received was not a dream. But strangely, this little pain actually made him feel a little more at ease - at least, Lin Yan cared about him, otherwise he wouldn't be so angry as to hit him.
"Brother Lin..." He pressed his face against the cold door panel, his voice tearful and unclear, "My feet are so cold... My back hurts too... Can you... Can you give me a Band-Aid..."
This was half true, half false. His feet were indeed cold, the tiles like ice seeping into his bones; his back was indeed aching, but he wanted to use this as an excuse to hear Lin Yan's voice, even if it was just a scolding.
There was finally movement in the study.
There was the soft sound of a pen being put down, followed by the scraping of a chair against the floor. Lan Sizhui's heartbeat instantly jumped into his throat. He quickly stood up and wiped his face with the back of his hand, which only made his tears flow more violently.
The doorknob turned half a turn and stopped.
The people inside seemed to be hesitating.
Lan Sizhui bit his lower lip, tears streaming down his chin like beads from a broken string. He could imagine Lin Yan's appearance after he left—definitely still with a frown, lips pursed tightly, eyes as cold as ice. But even so, he wanted to check, at least to make sure he was still there.
"Wu..." He couldn't hold back and cried out with a deep fear, "Please don't leave me..."
As soon as he finished speaking, the door opened with a click.
Lin Yan stood behind the door, facing the backlight. His face was still gloomy, and the red bloodshot under his eyes was more obvious than before. He was holding a white medicine bottle in his hand, probably because he heard him say "my back hurts".
Lan Sizhui looked at him and cried even harder, his face covered in tears, and even his voice changed: "Brother Lin..."
Lin Yan's gaze fell on his bare feet, his brows furrowed even tighter, his Adam's apple rolled, as if he wanted to say something harsh, but in the end he just glanced at him coldly and turned to walk towards the living room.
Lan Sizhui was stunned for a moment, then hurriedly followed, like a little tail afraid of being abandoned. He watched Lin Yan pick up the blanket from the sofa, then bend down and take out slippers from the shoe cabinet, his movements still neat, but he didn't even look at him.
"Put it on." Lin Yan kicked the slippers to his feet. His voice was hard and no emotion could be heard.
Lan Sizhui quickly put on his slippers, the furry uppers wrapping around his cold feet and bringing a little warmth. He looked up to thank him, but saw Lin Yan already sitting on the sofa, unscrewing the medicine bottle, pouring out some milky ointment and rubbing it in his palms to warm it.
"Come here." Lin Yan's voice was still cold.
Lan Sizhui obediently walked over and stood with his back to him, his fingers nervously twisting the corners of his clothes. He could feel Lin Yan's gaze on his back, and that gaze seemed to carry a weight, pressing him down and making him feel a little breathless.
The next second, a warm palm covered it.
The coolness of the ointment mixed with the warmth of his palm as he gently massaged the area that had just been hit. Lin Yan's force was very light, and his fingertips were careful to avoid the reddest part, but it still made Lan Sizhui wince in pain.
"It hurts?" Lin Yan's voice was lower, and it was hard to tell whether it was concern or sarcasm.
Lan Sizhui bit his lip and said nothing, tears streaming down his face again. It wasn't because of the pain, but because of this sudden tenderness—she had been so fierce just now, and she was so cold now, but she still remembered to apply medicine to him, and remembered that he was afraid of pain.
Lin Yan seemed to sense his trembling and softened his grip. The living room was silent, with only the subtle sound of the ointment being pushed aside and Lan Sizhui's suppressed sobs.
He looked at the thin neck before him, at the shoulders trembling slightly from crying, and felt something blocking his heart. The anger he had felt at the bar earlier, the determination he had used to punish him, now transformed into a dense, agonizing pain. He knew better than anyone how well-behaved Sizhui was, that he was simply curious and didn't know how to refuse. But precisely because he knew this, he was even more afraid that he would be deceived and bullied.
But he couldn't say soft words.
Some truths can only be engraved into your bones after you have experienced pain and fear.
After applying the ointment, Lin Yan withdrew his hand, took out a few tissues and handed them over, still not looking at him: "Wipe it clean."
Lan Sizhui took the tissue and wiped his face roughly, but didn't dare look up. He could feel Lin Yan's gaze on him, a complex emotion in his eyes: heartache, helplessness, and a hint of severity.
"Brother Lin..." He sniffed, his voice muffled, "Are you still angry?"
Lin Yan didn't answer. He simply stood up and placed the medicine bottle back on the coffee table with a soft "dong" sound. He walked to the French window and stood with his back to Lan Sizhui. The moonlight outlined his thin silhouette, his shoulders still tense.
Lan Sizhui watched his back, the fear rising in his heart again. He slowly walked behind Lin Yan, stretched out his small hand, and carefully tugged at the corner of his clothes, his fingertips turning white from the pressure.
"I'll really be obedient from now on..." His voice was filled with tears and a strong sense of flattery. "I'll go and apologize to my uncle tomorrow. I'll also tell Li Hao that I'll never go to the bar again... Brother Lin, please don't ignore me, okay? You can scold me..."
Lin Yan's body stiffened for a moment.
He could feel the gentle pull on the hem of his clothes, hear the suppressed sobbing behind him, and imagine those red eyes staring at him eagerly. The ice in his heart seemed to be melting little by little, but his rationality kept it frozen.
He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and when he opened them again, the turmoil in his eyes had subsided.
"Go to bed." Lin Yan turned around and finally looked at him, his eyes still cold. "The bed in the guest room is ready."
After saying that, he broke away from Lan Sizhui's hand, walked into the study without looking back, and closed the door with a "click".
This time, Lan Sizhui didn't cry.
He stood there, staring at the closed study door, his hand still clutching the thread he had just plucked from the corner of Lin Yan's clothes. The pain in his back seemed to ease a little, but the fear in his heart remained, only with something else added—he seemed to understand a little bit. Lin Yan's coldness wasn't about not caring, but about caring too much.
He slowly walked to the guest room and lay down on the unfamiliar bed. He could still smell the faint woody scent of Lin Yan. The moonlight from the window shone in, falling on the headboard like a piece of gentle gauze.
He touched his back, where the coolness of the ointment and the warmth of his palm still lingered.
"Brother Lin..." he whispered to the air, "I really know."
In the study, Lin Yan leaned against the door, listening to the noise from the guest room gradually fade away, and finally breathed a sigh of relief. He walked to the desk, picked up the half-carved wooden horse, and gently stroked the carvings on it with his fingertips.
The halo of the desk lamp fell on his face, and one could see the lingering red bloodshot in his eyes, as well as the barely perceptible hint of helplessness and heartache at the corner of his mouth.
This night is destined to be sleepless.
But he knew that when the day dawned, the child would truly understand that some rejections had to be learned decisively, and that there were certain bottom lines that could never be compromised. And he would accompany him, slowly learning.
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