Chapter 20 Granduncle
Lan Qiren's satisfaction with Lan Sizhui has always been hidden in his strict teaching.
In the morning class that day, Lan Qiren explained the most difficult chapter "Mingbian" in "Yazheng Ji". All the students in the hall looked troubled, but Sizhui was the only one who listened attentively and could occasionally answer questions fluently.
"...How do you interpret the phrase 'A gentleman is cautious when alone and does not deceive in secret?'" Lan Qiren's gaze swept across the room, finally landing on Sizhui. "Lan Sizhui, tell me."
Si Zhui stood and bowed, his clear voice echoing through the hall: "I believe that 'being cautious in solitude' doesn't mean being self-righteous, but rather being able to uphold one's integrity even when no one is watching. 'Not deceiving in secret' means acting in a way that is worthy of the conscience of heaven and earth, regardless of whether anyone sees you. Just like when hunting at night, even if no one knows, one should not kill innocent people out of greed for merit, nor should one allow evil spirits to wreak havoc out of cowardice."
These words not only explained the meaning of the text but also combined it with practical application. Lan Qiren's brows relaxed slightly, but his tone remained serious: "Not bad. But you must know that 'staying true to one's heart' is easier said than done. When your father was young..." He paused, and in the end, he didn't say anything else, only saying, "Sit down."
As Si Zhui sat down, he caught a glimpse of his great-uncle picking up a red pen and gently circling his name on the roster—that was Lan Qiren’s unique way of approving, and it warmed his heart more than any other compliment.
During the break, Lan Qiren stopped Si Zhui who was about to leave and said, "Come with me to the study."
Si Zhui's heart tightened, thinking he had said something inappropriate, but then he saw Lan Qiren walk into the study, take a book from the top shelf, and hand it to him: "This is the 'Origin of the Sword Dao' annotated by your father when he was young. Take it and read it. It may be helpful for your sword practice."
The edges of the scroll were a bit worn, and there were faint traces of ink on the cover, clearly showing signs of frequent reading. Si Zhui held the book, his fingertips touching the words "Lan Zhan" on the title page, and suddenly remembered what his father had said: although his great-uncle was strict, he always secretly kept the belongings of his youth for him.
"Thank you, great uncle."
"You're welcome." Lan Qiren put his hands behind his back, his gaze fixed on him. "I've heard about what happened at Moon-Watching Mountain yesterday. You're much more composed than your father was back then, since you can investigate the cause before taking action." He changed the subject, his tone becoming more serious. "But don't get complacent. Remember, the more you're praised, the more cautious you must be. Your father and Wei Wuxian may be more indulgent with you, but I won't tolerate even the slightest slackness here."
Si Zhui bowed and replied, "Disciple understands. Granduncle taught me, and I will never forget it."
"I understand." Lan Qiren nodded and suddenly pulled out a small wooden plaque from his sleeve. It was engraved with "Allowed to enter the Library Section C." "Take this. From now on, you can go to Section C to read. But you must abide by the rules. You can't flip around or move things around, and you can't take any banned books out of the library."
Section C of the Library held many precious ancient books, and even many older disciples were not qualified to enter. Si Zhui held the wooden sign, feeling both surprised and delighted. When he looked up, he saw Lan Qiren had already turned and walked towards the desk, leaving only a sentence: "Go, don't miss the sword class at noon."
Leaving the study, Sizhui realized his palms were sweating. He looked down at the wooden plaque and suddenly understood his great-uncle's feelings—his favor was never spoken out loud, but hidden in the annotated books, in the special wooden plaque, and in the stern admonition: "Don't be complacent."
Lan Qiren happened to be passing by the sword arena during a noontime sword practice. Seeing Sizhui's wrist rotation angle deviating while practicing the "New Moon" stance, he walked right over.
"Raise your wrist half an inch, and let your spiritual energy sink to your dantian, rather than concentrating it at your fingertips." Lan Qiren held his wrist and personally corrected his posture. His old hand, though a little stiff, was surprisingly steady. "When your father practiced this move, he always pursued speed. Don't learn from him. The elegant and upright sword emphasizes intention over force, and seeks stability over speed."
Si Zhui followed his guidance and indeed found his sword moves much smoother. The sunlight shone on both of them, and the combination of his great-uncle's white hair and his own black hair created a strange harmony.
"Alright." Lan Qiren released his hand, watched him practice again, and then slowly said, "You have a gentle temperament, but you need to be sharp when practicing swordsmanship. I'll test you on this move in a few days. If you can't do it well..."
"Disciple will practice diligently and will never let my great uncle down!" Si Zhui promised quickly.
Lan Qiren said nothing more, and as he turned and left, his steps seemed slower than when he came. Si Zhui watched him from behind, and suddenly remembered what Wei Wuxian had said: his great-uncle loved him the most, his "little grandson," but he couldn't bring himself to do that, so he always used harshness to cover it up.
In the evening, Si Zhui was copying the "Origin of Sword Dao" given by his great-uncle in the quiet room. Lan Wangji walked in and saw the familiar annotations on the book, and knew what was going on.
"Did your uncle praise you?"
Si Zhui smiled and nodded. "He also gave me a wooden plaque for Section C of the Library." He paused, then added, "My great-uncle said that my sword practice lacked some sharpness."
Lan Wangji picked up the scroll, his fingertips brushing over his father's annotations, a hint of warmth flashing in his eyes: "When he was young, he always said that my sword practice was too rigid and lacked flexibility."
Sizhui suddenly understood. His great-uncle's expectations for them had always been filled with a gentle attempt to make amends for the past—he hoped his father would learn to be flexible, that he would maintain his sharpness, and that he would grow into the best he could be, balancing strictness and kindness.
Moonlight from the window crept onto the desk, illuminating the writing on the pages. Si Zhui gripped his pen tightly, suddenly feeling that every word he wrote, every sword move he practiced, carried a heavy burden of expectation. This expectation, as harsh as ice, yet also as warm as fire, had sculpted him bit by bit during his years in the Cloud Recesses, allowing him to move forward steadily amidst rules and warmth.
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