Chapter 173 The Child's Determination
Pushing open the door of Yunshen Pavilion, Wei Wuxian was about to ask Sizhui to hide the kite when he saw two familiar figures sitting in the living room.
Xie Lian, dressed in a plain Taoist robe, was pouring tea from a teapot for Hua Cheng. His profile looked particularly gentle in the warm light. Hua Cheng, dressed in red, lazily leaned on the sofa, twirling a silver butterfly-shaped teacup between his fingers. Upon seeing them enter, he looked up and smiled, "Are you back?"
Wei Wuxian's heart skipped a beat, thinking to himself, this isn't good—Xie Lian and Hua Cheng's sudden visit was most likely Lan Wangji's "reinforcements." He quickly signaled to Si Zhui, "Si Zhui, put the kite back in the room and call Lin Yan to ask if you can go to the woodcarving class this afternoon."
Although Sizhui was a little confused, he still responded obediently and ran towards the stairs with the kite in his arms. As he passed the living room, he subconsciously slowed down his pace, feeling that the atmosphere was a little off.
"What are you hiding from?" Xie Lian put down the teapot, his eyes fixed on Wei Wuxian's slightly pale face, his brows slightly furrowed. "Did you sneak out again?"
Wei WuXian touched his nose and chuckled, “I just… took SiZhui for a stroll in the park. I didn’t do any strenuous exercise.”
"How could turning around make you look this pale?" Hua Cheng raised an eyebrow, his tone teasing but also concealing concern. "Jun Wu just said you've recovered well, and now you dare to run out? Do you think Lan Wangji didn't punish you enough?"
Wei Wuxian felt embarrassed by what he said. Just as he was about to argue, Xie Lian sighed, "Ah Xian, you know your body can't get tired. You know better than anyone how severe the backlash of the blood exchange curse is. Why are you so careless?"
The three words "blood exchange curse" exploded like a thunder at the stairs.
Lan Sizhui's footsteps suddenly stopped, and the kite in his hand fell to the ground with a "clack". He hid in the shadows at the corner of the stairs, his heart pounding wildly, and his ears, which had been warm just a moment ago, suddenly turned cold.
Wei Wuxian's expression in the living room also changed. He glared at Xie Lian and lowered his voice, "Brother, why are you saying this?"
"If you don't tell me now, will you wait until you get yourself hospitalized again?" Xie Lian's voice deepened. "Si Zhui will find out sooner or later. You can't keep it a secret from him forever and let him think you got this disease out of nowhere."
Hua Cheng nodded, the silver butterfly on his fingertips pausing, "If you hadn't used the blood exchange spell to force the poison out of him, how could he have woken up safely? This is something you should let him know."
Toxins... coma...
Countless fragments seemed to collide in Lan Sizhui's mind, and those memories that had been deliberately forgotten suddenly became clear -
The dark and damp warehouse, the kidnapper's hideous face, the stinging needle on his arm, and his father's red eyes and his father's pale face when he woke up... He only knew that he had been poisoned and was in a coma for three days and three nights. When he woke up, he saw his father lying in the ward next door with tubes inserted all over his body. The doctor said that his father had "an old illness triggered by overwork."
It turns out...it's not an old illness.
It's a blood exchange curse.
It was Daddy who used his own blood to buy his life.
Sizhui's fingers gripped the stair railing tightly, his knuckles whitening. The rough wood scratched his fingertips, causing them to ache, but the pain was far less than the pain in his heart. He remembered his father's trembling shoulders whenever he coughed, the wound on his waist that never healed, the solemn look in Grandpa Junwu's eyes when he looked at his father... It turned out that all of this was because of him.
The noise in the living room continued, and Wei WuXian's voice was a little helpless: "I'm not trying to hide it, but he's still young, there's no need for him to bear this."
"But he has the right to know the truth." Xie Lian's voice was soft, but every word was clear. "Why do you think he secretly wipes away tears every time he sees you sick? He's already noticed something's wrong. Instead of letting him guess, it's better to tell him openly."
Lan Sizhui couldn't bear to listen any longer. He turned around and tried to run, but he tripped over something and fell forward, heavily onto the stairs.
“Sizhui?” Wei Wuxian turned around suddenly and saw his son lying on the stairs. He rushed over and asked, “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”
Si Zhui raised his head, his eyes red as a rabbit's, tears streaming down his face, leaving a small wet mark on the floor. He stared at Wei Wuxian, his lips trembling, but no sound came out.
Wei WuXian's heart sank as he instantly understood—he had heard it all.
Xie Lian and Hua Cheng also stood up, and the atmosphere in the living room suddenly became heavy. Xie Lian was about to say something when Si Zhui pushed him away.
The young man threw himself into Wei Wuxian's arms, hugged his waist tightly, and burst into tears: "Daddy! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"
“Si Zhui, listen to me…” Wei Wuxian was strangled by him and was a little breathless. His heart was sore and painful. He raised his hand to touch his head.
"It's my fault! I was kidnapped! I was poisoned!" Si Zhui cried, his voice hoarse. "You used the blood exchange spell to save me, didn't you? You're sick now because of me, right?"
He remembered that after he woke up from his coma, Wei Wuxian's arm was wrapped in thick gauze, and Lan Wangji said at that time that his father "accidentally scratched it"; he remembered that his father always said his waist hurt, but never coughed too much in front of him; he remembered that this time his father secretly took him to fly a kite, and his face was pale when he came back... It turned out that all the "coincidences" were because of him.
“It’s not your fault.” Wei Wuxian squatted down, cupped his face, and looked into his eyes seriously. “Daddy volunteered. As long as it means you can live well, Daddy is willing to do anything.”
"But I don't want you to get sick!" Si Zhui shook his head vigorously, tears falling even harder. "I would rather it was me who died! I don't want Daddy to suffer for me!"
“What nonsense!” Wei Wuxian’s voice was a little harsh, but then softened again, “Don’t say such nonsense. You are Daddy’s baby. As long as you are well, Daddy’s pain is nothing.”
He recalled the day outside the warehouse when he heard the kidnappers say Sizhui had been poisoned and only a blood transfusion could save his life, and he rushed in without even thinking. At that time, he had only one thought in his mind - this child must not be harmed, absolutely not.
Xie Lian and Hua Cheng stood aside, watching the father and son embrace and cry, neither speaking. Xie Lian gently touched Hua Cheng's hand, his eyes filled with heartache. Hua Cheng held his hand in his, the silver butterfly on his fingertips quietly flew away, landing on the stair railing, as if silently guarding them.
Sizhui cried for a long time, until his voice was hoarse, and then he sobbed, "Daddy, from now on... from now on, I will take care of you. I will never make you angry again, and I will never sneak out to play again..."
Wei WuXian smiled and ruffled his hair, but his eyes were red: "Okay, Daddy will wait."
Sunlight streamed in through the window, falling on the two of them. Sizhui hugged Wei Wuxian's neck tightly, as if sharing his pain. He kept repeating to himself: I must be obedient, I must study hard, I must grow up quickly, so that I can protect my father and stop him from suffering.
The aroma of tea wafted through the living room. Xie Lian looked at the father and son and suddenly said to Hua Cheng, "Look, do they look like us back then?"
Hua Cheng smiled, the tenderness in his eyes almost overflowing: "Likely. But they are luckier than us."
At least, they have the opportunity to talk these things out, and the opportunity to slowly move towards perfection under each other's protection.
What Wei Wuxian didn't know was that from that day on, in addition to textbooks and paintbrushes, there was one more thing in Lan Sizhui's schoolbag - an old book on herbal medicine and spiritual power channeling, which he had secretly found in Lan Wangji's study.
The young man held the book in his arms, reading the obscure text bit by bit under the desk lamp, with only one thought in his mind:
When I learn it, it will be my turn to protect daddy.
must.
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