Chapter 27
During a night hunt in the summer, Sizhui was accidentally injured.
He was chasing a fleeing evil spirit when he missed a step and slipped halfway down the slope. A long gash appeared on his arm from the gravel, and blood oozed out. Lan Jingyi and Jin Ling wanted to help him back, but he stopped them, saying, "It's just a minor injury, nothing serious. Let's deal with the evil spirit first."
He forced himself to deal with the evil spirit, and by the time he returned to the Cloud Recesses, his wound had already scabbed over. Si Zhui quietly asked Uncle Wen Ning for some medicine and hid in his room to treat it, thinking that once the wound healed, his father probably wouldn't notice.
He was afraid Wei Wuxian would worry. The last time a monster scratched the back of his hand, it was only a shallow scratch, but Wei Wuxian's eyes were red. He held him and talked to him for a long time, and even forced Lan Wangji to issue an order not to let him leave the mountain for two weeks. During that half month, although his father didn't really scold him, he was always sighing and looking at him with eyes full of heartache, which made Sizhui feel worse than being punished.
This time the injury was on his arm and was much more serious than the last time. Si Zhui really didn't have the courage to tell Wei Wuxian, so he could only try to keep it a secret for the time being.
But he forgot that Wei Wuxian was the most attentive. Also, Wen Ningke listened to Wei Wuxian the most.
At dinner, Sizhui ate with his left hand, his movements somewhat stiff. Wei Wuxian noticed it immediately, and since Wen Ning had come up to him that afternoon, he paused while picking up food. "What's wrong with your arm?"
Si Zhui's heart tightened, and he quickly smiled and said, "Nothing, I'm just tired from practicing swordsmanship during the day."
Wei Wuxian, however, looked at his son meaningfully. He put down his chopsticks, walked over, and reached out to lift his sleeve: "Let me see."
"Daddy!" Si Zhui subconsciously dodged backwards, but his movement was too big and he accidentally pulled the wound, causing him to hiss in pain.
This cry of pain completely exposed the truth. Wei WuXian's face instantly darkened, and his tone became anxious: "Let me see!"
Lan Wangji also put down his bowl and chopsticks, his eyes falling on Sizhui's arm, with a questioning look in his eyes.
Si Zhui knew he could no longer hide it, so he slowly rolled up his sleeves. The scabbed wound winding down his arm was particularly glaring.
Wei Wuxian’s eyes suddenly turned red: “What’s going on?! When did you get injured? Why didn’t you tell me?!” His voice was trembling, anxious and angry, but more of it was heartache.
"Yes, I was careless while hunting last night..." Si Zhui lowered his head, not daring to look at him, "I thought the wound would heal soon, so I didn't tell him..."
"Didn't say?" Wei Wuxian's voice suddenly rose. "Such a deep cut is called a minor wound? Do you know what would happen if it gets infected? Have you forgotten what happened last time at the mass grave..." He didn't finish his words, but suddenly shut his mouth, his eyes getting even redder.
Si Zhui knew that his father was remembering the suffering he had endured in the mass grave when he was a child. At that time, there was a lack of medical care and medicine, and any minor injury could turn into a serious illness.
"I'm sorry, Daddy..."
Wei WuXian ignored him and turned to walk out. When he reached the door, a muffled voice came out: "I don't want to see you."
Sizhui's heart sank. He wasn't afraid of his father scolding him, but he was afraid of his father ignoring him like this.
Lan Wangji looked at him, his tone calm but serious: "Go kneel at the door of the quiet room and think carefully about where you went wrong."
"Yes, father." Si Zhui responded, picked up the ruler and walked out - he knew that this time he had really touched his father's bottom line.
The threshold of the quiet room was icy cold. Sizhui knelt on it, the wound on his arm aching slightly, but it was far less painful than the pain in his heart. He thought of his father's red eyes and the words "I don't want to see you". His nose felt sore and tears almost fell.
The night wind blew through the bamboo forest, bringing a chill. Sizhui knelt upright, the ruler in his hand pricking his palm painfully, but he didn't dare move.
About an hour later, Lan Wangji came out. Seeing sweat on his forehead and his pale face, he said in a deep voice, "Do you know you're wrong?"
"I understand." Si Zhui's voice was a little hoarse. "A disciple shouldn't have concealed his injuries and made Dad and Father worry. And he shouldn't have taken his own body lightly."
Lan Wangji nodded. "Your father wasn't mad at you for getting hurt, he was mad at you for not telling him. In his heart, your safety is more important than anything else."
Si Zhui nodded vigorously, tears finally falling: "I know... I shouldn't have made him worry."
At this moment, Wei Wuxian's muffled voice came from the room: "Let him in."
Lan Wangji patted Sizhui’s shoulder and said, “Go in and apologize to your father.”
Si Zhui walked into the room and saw Wei Wuxian sitting by the stove, his back to him, his shoulders slightly heaving. He walked over, knelt down with a plop, and handed him the ruler. "Daddy, please hit me. I was wrong."
Wei Wuxian turned around abruptly, his eyes red as a rabbit's, but he didn't take the ruler. Instead, he grabbed his arm and carefully examined the wound, his voice choking with sobs: "Silly child... How could I bear to hit you..." He took out the medicine and gently re-applied the wound, muttering, "Don't do this again in the future. No matter how serious the injury is, you must tell us, do you hear me?"
"Yeah!" Si Zhui nodded vigorously, tears falling even harder, "Never again, Daddy."
Wei WuXian sighed, pulled him up, and hugged him: "If anything happens to you, what will happen to your father and me?"
Si Zhui buried himself in his arms and said sullenly, "I'm sorry, Daddy. I won't hide this from you anymore."
Lan Wangji walked in, holding a bowl of hot soup. "Drink some soup to warm yourself up. The punishment has been paid. Remember this lesson in the future."
Wei Wuxian took the soup and fed it to Sizhui himself. The pain in his eyes did not diminish at all, but he did not mention the matter of not allowing him to go down the mountain.
Si Zhui knew that his father had forgiven him.
That night, Sizhui lay in bed, his father tending to the wound on his arm, feeling comfortable, yet his heart still weighed heavily. He understood that the most taboo among family members wasn't making mistakes, but concealing them. Rather than letting others speculate, it was better to speak openly about some concerns—just like his father's heartache, always direct and burning, making him feel that even a slight injury, a few words of criticism, was a cherished happiness.
The moonlight from the window fell on the bed. Si Zhui touched the gauze on his arm and smiled quietly. He thought, "I'll never hide this from Dad again."
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