Chapter 30 The Story of the Fan
It was early autumn when the bandage on Sizhui's arm was removed. The wound healed beautifully, leaving only a shallow scar. Wei Wuxian brooded over it for days, saying he should have made more pigeon soup.
That afternoon, Si Zhui went to see Lan Xichen, carrying a basket of freshly picked oranges. Wei Wuxian had specifically asked him to pick them, saying, "Your uncle loves these sweet ones."
As soon as he reached Lan Xichen's study, he heard a very soft sigh coming from inside. Si Zhui paused and knocked gently on the door: "Uncle, it's me."
"Come in." Lan Xichen's voice sounded as gentle as usual, but with a barely perceptible hoarseness.
Si Zhui pushed the door open and saw Lan Xichen sitting by the window, holding a folding fan, his fingertips gently stroking the ribs. The fan was golden red, with an intricate pattern of golden stars and snowy waves embroidered on the surface. It was obvious that it belonged to Jinlin Terrace.
Si Zhui recognized it; it was Jin Guangyao's fan. He had seen it several times before at Jinling Terrace. Jin Guangyao always loved to hold it, and the way he fanned himself while chatting and laughing had always struck many people as warm and approachable.
When Lan Xichen saw him come in, he quickly closed his fan and placed it on the table, his usual smile on his face: "Si Zhui is here, please sit down."
Sizhui placed the orange on the table, but his eyes fell on the fan. He saw that his uncle's knuckles had turned slightly white from where he had just gripped the fan, and a lingering sense of melancholy still lingered in his eyes.
"Uncle," Sizhui peeled an orange and handed him a slice, "This orange is very sweet, please try it."
Lan Xichen took the orange and chewed it slowly, but said little. The sunlight filtered through the window lattice onto him, illuminating his indescribable loneliness with exceptional clarity.
Si Zhui hesitated for a moment and whispered, "Uncle, are you thinking about... Mr. Jin Guangyao?"
Lan Xichen paused as he held the orange in his hand, then looked up at him. A flicker of surprise flashed in his eyes, then turned into a helpless smile. “Yes. I was sorting out some old things today and came across this fan, so I took a few more glances at it.”
He picked up the fan and gently unfolded it. The golden snow on the fan was still bright, as if it still carried the warmth of the past. "He... was once a very important brother to me."
"I know." Si Zhui nodded. "Father Wei said that you, Sect Master Nie, and Mr. Jin Guangyao were very good friends in the past, known as the 'Three Lords.'"
“Yes,” Lan Xichen’s voice lowered. “At that time, I always felt that as long as the three of us were together, we could protect the peace of this world. But in the end…” He didn’t say anything else, but just gently closed the fan, the pain in his eyes unable to hide.
Si Zhui looked at him and suddenly remembered that when he was first taken back to the Cloud Recesses, he would often dream of the cold rain on the mass graves, dreaming of those vague, warm, and fleeting figures, and would often secretly shed tears after waking up. At that time, Wei Wuxian would hug him and say, "Think about it if you want to, there's no need to force yourself to forget. Just don't forget that there are many people around you who love you."
He thought for a moment, then said to Lan Xichen, "Uncle, I used to always think of Uncle Wen Ning and the others at the mass grave. Thinking of those who are no longer with us would make me sad. But Father Wei told me that sadness isn't a bad thing; it means they once left a warm impression on me."
He picked up an orange and peeled it slowly: "Just like this orange, it's sweet when you eat it, and you'll remember the sweetness after you finish eating it, but you won't keep holding the orange peel, right?"
Lan Xichen was stunned. Looking into Sizhui’s clear eyes, he suddenly smiled. The child’s words were as simple as a mountain stream, yet they gently flowed through the most clogged part of his heart.
“You’re right.” Lan Xichen picked up the fan, walked to the window, and gently placed it in a wooden box. “What should be remembered, must be remembered; what should be let go, should also be let go.”
He turned to look at Sizhui, the melancholy in his eyes faded a lot, and was filled with gentle warmth again: "Thank you, Sizhui."
Si Zhui smiled, his eyes curved. "You're welcome, Uncle. Uncle Wei said that if you carry too many heavy things in your heart, you won't be able to walk. You see, there's still a long way to go."
Lan Xichen gazed at the falling ginkgo leaves outside the window and nodded gently. Yes, there was still a long road ahead. There was the Cloud Recesses that needed his protection, there was his sensible younger brother, there was this heartwarming child before him, and there were the ordinary days that followed year after year.
That evening, when Sizhui left, Lan Xichen walked him to the door, carrying the wooden box containing the fan. “Thank you, Daddy, for me,” he said with a smile. “And thank you for this basket of oranges, too. They’re very sweet.”
When Si Zhui turned around, he saw Lan Xichen placing the wooden box on the top shelf of the bookshelf. Next to it were a rubbing of Nie Mingjue's sword and a portrait of Lan Wangji as a teenager. The sunlight fell on them, as if gently gathering together the fragments of the past.
On the way back, Si Zhui felt a sense of relief. He recalled Wei Wuxian's frequent use of the word "heartwarming," which was probably just like this: without having to preach, just sitting with him for a while, sharing a few words from the heart, could slowly lighten the heavy burden on his heart.
The ginkgo leaves in the Cloud Recesses were beginning to turn yellow, falling one by one on the bluestone road, like a golden carpet. Si Zhui walked forward, stepping on the fallen leaves, and suddenly felt that the joys and sorrows of the past years were like these fallen leaves, with the melancholy of falling and the gentleness of turning into nutrients, which would eventually melt into time and bring warmth to the future.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
