Chapter 89 Embrace and Reflection
The car practically rushed into the hospital parking lot. Wei Wuxian opened the door and ran towards the inpatient department, Lan Wangji following closely behind. Both of their suits were wrinkled and their hair was messy, completely losing their usual composure.
When he pushed open the ward door, Lan Xichen was sitting by the bed, wiping Sizhui's sweat. The boy lay in bed, his cheeks still flushed, his lips chapped, his brow furrowed, restless even in his sleep. Drops of liquid dripped from the IV tube, leaving small bruises on the back of his hand.
"Si Zhui..." Wei Wuxian's voice choked instantly. He rushed to the bed and wanted to touch the child, but was afraid of hurting him. His hands were hanging in the air and shaking non-stop.
Lan Wangji stood at the foot of the bed, looking at the liquid in the IV tube, then at Sizhui's pale face. The chill that surrounded him almost froze the ward. His fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white, and his Adam's apple rolled for a long time before he finally squeezed out a sentence: "How many degrees?"
"It just dropped to 38 degrees. It was previously as high as 39.5 degrees." Lan Xichen sighed, "The doctor said he has a viral cold. It's been delayed for too long, and he's a bit dehydrated."
Wei WuXian's tears fell. "Why did it take so long? He called me every day and told me everything was fine..."
“He’s afraid you’ll worry.” Lan Xichen’s voice was filled with helplessness. “This kid has to handle everything on his own.”
Wei Wuxian squatted beside the bed, gently holding Sizhui's hand, which wasn't receiving an IV. It was burning hot yet weak, the fingernails tinged with white. He looked at the needle prick on the boy's hand and remembered how the children in the mass graves were like that when they were little, never complaining about their illnesses, only slumping against him when they could no longer bear it.
“We’re too greedy.” Wei Wuxian’s voice was hoarse. “We’re always thinking about earning more love points so that he can have a better life in the future, but we forget…he needs us by his side right now.”
Lan Wangji said nothing as he walked to the bedside, bent over, and carefully picked Sizhui up. The boy was very light, thinner than other children his age. When he curled up in his arms, he was like a frightened little animal, subconsciously burrowing into the crook of his neck.
This was the first time Lan Wangji had embraced Sizhui like this while sober. In the past, he had always adhered to the principles of elegance and propriety, at most giving him a pat on the head or a shoulder. But this full embrace was filled with unmistakable cherishment and regret.
Si Zhui was woken up by being held. He opened his eyes dazedly and saw Lan Wangji's face. He was stunned for a moment, then pouted in grievance: "Father..."
"Yes, I'm here." Lan Wangji's voice was very gentle, and his fingertips gently stroked his sweaty forehead. "Where do you feel uncomfortable?"
Si Zhui shook his head, buried his face in his chest, and whispered, "Daddy..."
Wei WuXian quickly went over and held his hand: "Daddy is here. I'm sorry you're late."
The young man couldn't hold back his tears, but he still whispered, "Don't blame Daddy... Don't blame Father... It was my own carelessness..."
Hearing these words, the three of them felt even more heartbroken. Lan Xichen turned his face away, Lan Wangji tightened his grip on Sizhui, and Wei Wuxian lay on the edge of the bed, tears falling on the back of Sizhui's hand.
The barrage of comments had already exploded, and the previous "Lan Zong is right" argument was completely replaced by heartache:
"Wow, Sizhui is so sensible! He's so sensible that it makes me feel distressed!"
"Teacher Wei is right! How can love compare to a child's current needs?"
"Boss Lan's hug is killing me! He must be regretting it!"
"This isn't about earning likeability, it's clearly being tied down by a mission! What children want isn't a good life, they want companionship!"
Si Zhui fell asleep again after crying for a short while, probably because he was exhausted. Lan Wangji put him back on the bed, moving so gently as if he didn't want to disturb the butterflies. He walked to the window, looked out at the night, and suddenly said, "I will turn down the project and ask them to stop filming."
Wei WuXian looked up at him, his eyes red: "Then the mission..."
"The mission isn't important." Lan Wangji interrupted him, his tone remarkably firm. "He is the most important."
From the world of cultivation to the modern era, they have been running around for "survival" and "missions", always thinking that it is right to give their children the best materials, but they forget that what children need most is just someone to give them water when they are sick, someone to hug them when they are sad, and someone to say "Don't be afraid, I'm here" when they get into trouble.
Lan Wangji walked over to Wei Wuxian, bent down, and pulled him into his arms. Wei Wuxian leaned against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat, tears falling again. "Can we... spend more time with him in the future?"
"Okay." Lan Wangji lowered his head and kissed the top of his head gently. "From now on, he is the most important."
The ward was silent, save for the dripping of the IV tube and Sizhui's steady breathing. Lan Xichen looked at the two people hugging each other and quietly withdrew. Some knots in their hearts needed to be untied by themselves; some promises needed to be fulfilled with actions.
The next morning, Si Zhui woke up to find himself in a familiar bedroom. Sunlight streamed through the gaps in the curtains, falling on the figures sprawled beside the bed—Wei Wuxian, sprawled over the bed, asleep, clutching the corner of his shirt; Lan Wangji sat in a chair, his head resting on the edge of the bed, the bloodshot bloodshot in his eyes clearly visible.
Sizhui's eyes suddenly became red. He thought of his father's hug and his father's tears last night, and suddenly realized that he didn't need to pretend to be strong or shoulder everything by himself, because his father would always rush to his side when he needed him.
The young man gently reached out his hand, touched Wei Wuxian's hair, then touched the back of Lan Wangji's hand, and a faint smile slowly appeared at the corner of his mouth.
Outside the window, birds chirped and the sun shone brightly. Perhaps they had once strayed from the right path, but as long as their hearts were together and they understood what was most important to cherish, it would never be too late.
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