Chapter 85 Illness
The old house was so quiet in the early morning that only the ticking of the wall clock could be heard. Wei Wuxian rolled over, his forehead suddenly burning hot and his throat dry as if on fire. He struggled to sit up and pour some water, but the moment he moved, his head spun and his whole body felt limp and powerless.
"Lan Zhan..." He called out subconsciously, his voice so hoarse that it was almost inaudible.
Lan Wangji, in the next room, woke up almost immediately. He'd been a light sleeper these days, constantly on the lookout for any noises. When he heard Wei Wuxian's breathy call, his heart sank, and he grabbed his coat and rushed over.
When he opened the door, he saw Wei Wuxian curled up in his quilt, his cheeks abnormally red, and his hair on his forehead soaked with cold sweat. Lan Wangji reached out to touch his forehead, and his fingertips touched a burning sensation, which startled his pupils and made them shrink suddenly.
“Wei Ying? Wake up.” Lan Wangji’s voice was filled with panic that he himself didn’t even realize. He wanted to help him up, but Wei Wuxian unconsciously pushed him away. He was dazed from fever and kept mumbling, “Don’t touch…”
Lan Wangji didn't care about anything else, turning around to get a thermometer, then found some fever-reducing medicine and warm water. When he returned, Wei Wuxian was already shivering, probably from the alternating hot and cold temperatures. He clutched the corner of the quilt tightly, his face turning pale and red.
"Open your mouth." Lan Wangji tucked the thermometer under his armpit, pried open his tightly clenched teeth, and fed him the fever-reducing medicine and warm water bit by bit. A lot of the medicine spilled on his chin, and he wiped it carefully with a towel, his movements as gentle as if he were treating fragile porcelain.
After tossing and turning for over half an hour, Wei Wuxian's temperature finally dropped slightly, but he still slept restlessly, his brow furrowed, as if he were having a nightmare. Lan Wangji sat by the bed, his fingertips stroking his burning cheeks again and again, his eyes filled with regret. He should have known that Wei Wuxian had been emotionally unstable these past few days, and he hadn't rested well after watching over Si Zhui day and night. Why didn't he pay more attention?
At dawn, Jin Zixuan and Jiang Yanli rushed over after hearing the news. Seeing Wei Wuxian's red face, they were extremely worried. "Why did he suddenly become so ill?" Jiang Yanli's eyes were red. "Should we take him to the hospital?"
"I just took some medicine. Let's observe for a while." Lan Wangji's voice was filled with deep fatigue, and the dark circles under his eyes deepened. "Sister, you two go take care of Sizhui. I'll stay here."
Si Zhui heard the noise in the room and was anxious to come out, but was stopped by Lan Xichen: "Your father is fine, Mr. Lan will take good care of him. If you stay here obediently, you will be helping him." The young man clutched the corner of his clothes, his eyes red, but he still nodded obediently - he knew that going out now would only cause trouble.
The audience in the barrage looked at the surveillance footage and felt very distressed:
"Wow, why did Teacher Wei suddenly fall ill? It must be because she cried too much in the past few days and didn't get enough rest!"
"It's so heartbreaking to see Mr. Lan guarding the bedside! Stop the cold war and take good care of him!"
"Too much emotional volatility can really make you sick! I was so angry about Si Zhui before, and now I'm holding my anger back. It's no wonder I don't get sick!"
"I hope Teacher Wei gets better soon! Seeing him frown from the fever makes my heart ache!"
Lan Wangji watched over Wei Wuxian for an entire day. Wei Wuxian woke once, saw him beside him, and immediately turned his face away, his movements weak and coquettish. Lan Wangji said nothing, merely brushing his sweat-soaked hair behind his ears and placing a cool towel on his forehead.
“Don’t touch me…” Wei Wuxian’s voice was still nasal, but he had lost his previous toughness, and instead sounded like a naughty child.
Lan Wangji's hand paused in mid-air, his Adam's apple moving. "I'll go get Wen Ning."
“No need!” Wei WuXian immediately retorted, closing his eyes even tighter. “…water.”
Lan Wangji quickly poured a glass of warm water and carefully fed him a drink. After watching him fall into a deep sleep again after drinking the water, Lan Wangji breathed a sigh of relief. However, he couldn't help but gently touch the corner of his mouth with his fingertips - he seemed... not so angry anymore?
In the evening, Wei Wuxian's fever finally subsided, and he felt more awake. Lan Wangji brought him some porridge, wanting to feed him, but he dodged.
"I can do it myself." Wei Wuxian propped himself up and sat up, his movements still a little shaky. Lan Wangji quickly helped him up and put a pillow behind him.
The two of them were silent for a moment, the only sound being the soft clatter of the spoon against the rim of the bowl. Wei Wuxian took two sips of porridge and suddenly whispered, "Sizhui...did you copy the book today?"
“I copied it very carefully,” Lan Wangji said. “He told me to tell you not to worry about him.”
Wei WuXian’s eyes turned red again: “I’m not mad at you for punishing him… I’m mad at you…” He paused, his voice choking, “mad at you for not feeling sorry for me.”
Lan Wangji's heart felt like it was being gripped tightly. He put down the bowl and looked Wei Wuxian in the eye. "I'm heartbroken."
"Then why are you still fighting the cold war with me..."
"It's my fault." Lan Wangji interrupted him, his tone softer than ever before, "I shouldn't have confronted you head-on, and I certainly shouldn't have made you so angry that you got sick."
He reached out and gently grasped Wei Wuxian's hand, which was resting on the blanket. The warmth of his palm radiated through his skin, bringing a reassuring power. "As for Sizhui, I know you love him. But there are some truths he must understand."
Wei WuXian didn’t pull his hand back, but tears fell from his eyes. “I know… I just… I just can’t bear to see him suffer.”
“I know.” Lan Wangji wiped away his tears with his fingertips, his movements incredibly gentle. “Next time, if there’s anything, let’s discuss it properly and not quarrel, okay?”
Wei Wuxian sniffed, said nothing, but gave a soft "hmm" as a sign of agreement.
The moonlight from outside the window crept in, falling on their clasped hands like scattered silver. This impasse caused by the child was finally and quietly resolved by a sudden illness.
Lan Wangji watched Wei Wuxian finish his porridge, then coaxed him back to bed, tucking in the quilt before getting up. As he reached the door, he glanced back at the person on the bed. The other person had their eyes closed, but a faint smile lingered on their lips.
He closed the door gently and turned around to see Sizhui standing at the end of the corridor, holding a thermos cup in his hand.
"Father." The boy whispered, "I made some warm ginger soup for you."
Lan Wangji walked over, took the thermos cup, and patted his head: "Go in, you can see him tomorrow."
Sizhui nodded, and when he turned back to his room, his steps became much lighter.
Lan Wangji watched his back, then gazed toward the light in Wei Wuxian's room. The fatigue in his eyes was finally replaced by warmth. Perhaps there was no standard answer to raising a child. Strictness and gentleness, rules and tolerance, all required a person to slowly explore together.
As long as we have each other by our side, no matter how difficult the road is, we can probably walk on with a smile.
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