Chapter 193: The Trouble with Old Things
The car drove directly into the garage of Lin Yan's villa. Si Zhui was dragged inside by Lin Yan's arm. The force on his wrist made him frown in pain, but he dared not say a word.
The lights were off in the living room, with only a faint glow from the neon lights outside the window, illuminating Lin Yan's cold profile. Si Zhui stood in the hallway, watching him turn to get the medicine box, tears welling up in his eyes again.
"Come here." Lin Yan's voice came from the bar, still without any warmth.
Si Zhui walked over reluctantly, head lowered, like a prisoner awaiting sentencing. Lin Yan placed the medical kit on the counter, took out iodine and cotton swabs, and quickly treated the wound on his arm.
When the alcohol touched the wound, he didn't even frown, as if the pain was not worth mentioning at all. Si Zhui looked at the hideous wound, his heart aching and bitter, and whispered, "Brother Lin, let me help you."
Lin Yan ignored him and bandaged the wound with gauze. Then he picked up the iodine and raised his chin towards him: "Come here."
Si Zhui obediently leaned over and let him apply the cotton swab to the bruises on his face. The iodine irritation made him wince in pain, but he bit his lip and said nothing.
"Do you feel the pain?" Lin Yan's voice finally rose a little, with a hint of sarcasm, "Why don't you think about the pain when fighting with others?"
Si Zhui's eyes instantly turned red, and tears fell on the bar: "I didn't mean to... They wanted to take the recorder..."
"Is a broken recorder more important than your life?" Lin Yan threw the cotton swab into the trash can and raised his voice suddenly. "Look at what you look like now! Your face is bruised and your body is bruised. If your father saw this, how do you think he would punish you?"
When Lan Wangji was mentioned, Si Zhui's body trembled violently. He was not afraid of Wei Wuxian's heartache, but he was afraid of Lan Wangji's disappointed eyes.
"I...I don't dare tell them..." His voice was filled with fear. "Brother Lin, can you please not tell my uncle and dad?"
Lin Yan looked at his red eyes from crying, and the anger in his heart subsided a little for some reason, but his face was still cold: "Are you afraid now? Why didn't you think about it when we were fighting?"
He turned and walked towards the study. When he reached the door, he stopped and said without looking back, "You will stay in the guest room tonight. Reflect on your behavior."
Si Zhui watched him disappear at the door of the study, tears finally falling. He walked to the sofa and sat down, took out the recorder from his pocket, and held it tightly in his hand.
The pen was warm from his body heat, and there were still faint scratches on it - the marks left by his caressing over the past three years. He pressed the play button, and a familiar rustling sound came from it, the sound of Lin Yan carving wood in the New York Hotel.
Hearing this voice, the panic in his heart seemed to ease a little, but a deeper sense of grievance surged in. He knew he shouldn't fight or be impulsive, but he really couldn't lose this recorder.
This is the peace of mind that Lin Yan gave him when he was scared, the companionship he received during countless nights alone, and the most precious memory between him and Brother Lin.
After sitting there for an unknown amount of time, the study door opened. Lin Yan walked out and saw Si Zhui still sitting on the sofa, clutching the recorder tightly in his hand, his brows furrowed again.
"It's late, go to bed."
Si Zhui didn't move, but raised his head and looked at him with tears in his eyes: "Brother Lin, please don't be angry, okay? I know I was wrong, I will never fight again..."
Lin Yan's eyes fell on the recorder in his hand, and his eyes darkened: "Give it to me."
Si Zhui subconsciously shrank back and hid the recorder behind him: "No! This is mine..."
"Give it to me!" Lin Yan's voice turned cold, and his tone was unquestionable and tough.
Si Zhui looked at his serious face and knew that he was really angry. He felt scared and wronged, and his tears fell even harder. However, he still tightly protected the recorder behind him: "I can't give it to you... This is a gift from you..."
"Do you have to sacrifice your life for the gift I gave you?" Lin Yan walked up to him, bent down, and snatched the recorder from his hand without saying a word.
"No!" Si Zhui rushed to grab it, but Lin Yan held his shoulders.
Lin Yan was very strong and he couldn't break free at all. He could only watch the recorder being snatched away.
"Brother Lin! Give it back to me!" He cried anxiously, "It's mine... Even if it's broken, it's still mine..."
Lin Yan looked at his hysteria, feeling like something was blocking his heart. He held up the recorder, his voice as cold as ice: "Lan Sizhui, look carefully, this is just a broken pen! For it, you almost got stabbed, and almost made your father worry to death. Do you think it was worth it?"
"It's worth it!" Si Zhui cried out, "It's not a broken pen! It's you..."
It is the sense of security you give me, and the proof that you are with me. The rest of the words were swallowed back by the crying, but they hit Lin Yan's heart like a heavy hammer.
Lin Yan looked at his red eyes, the tears still lingering on his face, and the clear bruises. His anger suddenly subsided. He held the recorder in his hand, rubbing the scratches on it with his fingertips, and suddenly felt a little powerless.
He thought that Si Zhui had grown up in the past three years and understood what was more important, but he didn't expect that his dependence on him and his obsession with this "proof" would reach such a deep level.
Lin Yan didn't say anything else, turned around and walked into the study, closing the door with a bang.
Si Zhui stared at the tightly closed study door, finally unable to hold on any longer. He collapsed to the floor and burst into tears. The only sounds in the living room were his suppressed sobs and the occasional rustle of the wind outside the window.
He knew Lin Yan was doing this for his own good, and that he shouldn't be impulsive, but he couldn't help himself. That recorder was more than just an object to him; it was the most precious memory between him and Brother Lin, a reassurance in this unfamiliar environment.
Now, even this has been taken away.
Si Zhui hugged his knees, curled up in the corner of the sofa, tears falling like beads from a broken string. He didn't know if Lin Yan would throw away the recorder, he didn't know how to face his father tomorrow, and he didn't know when Brother Lin would forgive him.
The night grew deeper, and the light in the study remained on. Si Zhui tried to knock on the door several times, but he stopped at the door each time. He was afraid of seeing Lin Yan's cold eyes, afraid of hearing more hurtful words.
After an unknown amount of time, he fell asleep in a daze, with his hand still holding something, as if the recorder was still in his palm.
In the study, Lin Yan sat at his desk, clutching the recorder in his hand. Under the light, the scratches on the pen were clearly visible, and one could imagine how much Si Zhui treasured it.
He pressed the play button, and heard a familiar rustling sound, as well as his own whispered words, "Go to sleep, I won't leave."
Lin Yan's Adam's apple rolled, and an indescribable emotion suddenly surged in his heart. He had always thought that he had given Si Zhui enough, enough to make him feel at ease, but he had never expected that the child's inner anxiety would need to be filled with an old recorder.
He looked at the moonlight outside the window and sighed softly.
Perhaps, he should change his approach and let Sizhui understand that his peace of mind never needs to be pinned on any object.
Because he will always be here, accompanying him, protecting him, and will never leave.
Lin Yan carefully placed the recorder in the drawer, then stood up and walked to the living room. Seeing Si Zhui curled up on the sofa and sleeping, he walked over quietly, took off his coat, and gently covered him with it.
The boy's brow was still furrowed, as if he were having a nightmare. Lin Yan reached out and gently smoothed the wrinkles between his brows, his movements as gentle as if he were treating a rare treasure.
"Silly child." He whispered, his voice filled with helplessness and heartache, "How could I really blame you."
Just don't be so stupid next time.
Stop putting yourself in danger for anything.
Because you don’t know, when I saw the knife stabbing towards you, my heart almost stopped beating.
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