Moonlit Hearts

chapter 9: Healing in Silence

Lan Wangji knelt upon the unyielding wooden floor, the weight of silence pressing upon him. Time lost its meaning in the dim confines of the punishment hall, a place he had never stood as the accused. He had seen others kneel here before, had borne witness to discipline meted out with unwavering precision, but he had never imagined himself in their place. He had always walked the righteous path, his every action a testament to the teachings of his clan. The name Hanguang-Jun had been forged in that discipline—steadfast, untarnished.

Yet here he knelt, not for a lapse in duty, but for an act of defiance. He had turned against the elders' decree, not out of recklessness, but out of conviction. They had demanded he relinquish A-Yuan, but he would not. Could not. His heart had spoken with a clarity that no law could silence. And so, he had chosen the child over the rules.

Still, he did not resist the consequences. He had known the price before he acted, had accepted it without hesitation. Discipline was the foundation of the Lan clan, and if he were to uphold his beliefs, he must also uphold the law—even when it turned against him. Let the young disciples see that even Hanguang-Jun was not above the rules. Let them learn that conviction carried burdens, that righteousness often walked hand in hand with sacrifice.

The minutes stretched, his back straight, his gaze steady, but the weight in his chest grew heavier with each passing moment. His thoughts strayed beyond these walls—to A-Yuan, who would wake to find him gone. Would the child cry? Would he tremble in fear, thinking Wangji had abandoned him as so many others had? The mere thought twisted like a blade in his heart. Unbidden, his hands curled into fists at his sides.

The sound of approaching footsteps shattered the stillness. His uncle entered first, followed by the elders, their expressions a mask of disapproval and resolve. When the elder spoke, his voice carried the finality of judgment.

"Lan Wangji, you have broken our precepts, not once, but repeatedly. To adopt this child in secrecy, to challenge the will of the elders—this is disgraceful."

Wangji met his gaze without flinching.

"For your transgressions, you will receive thirty-three lashes with the discipline whip. Following this, you will surrender your sword and enter seclusion in the Jingshi with the child. You may return in five years, provided you demonstrate proper repentance."

The elder's lips pressed into a thin line, his displeasure evident. To him, the punishment was far too lenient.

A quiet scoff escaped Wangji before he could suppress it, though his face remained impassive. He inclined his head. "Very well. I accept. But in return, A-Yuan will be recognized as a Lan. He will bear the name and be granted the respect of any disciple within our sect. He will be my son."

Silence descended, thick and charged. Eyes turned to Lan Qiren. He studied Wangji for a long moment, unreadable as ever. Then, finally, he spoke.

"Of course, Wangji."

A disciple stepped forward, presenting the whip. Lan Qiren took it in steady hands and moved behind Wangji, the punishment about to begin.

Wangji had anticipated the whipping to be painful, but he was unprepared for the searing intensity of it. Each lash felt as though his flesh was being torn apart, pain radiating through him like fire. He clenched his teeth, determined not to cry out, but the agony was relentless. With every strike, a deep sense of injustice burned within him. Compassion should not be met with punishment. Yet, the very people meant to uphold justice had condemned him for protecting an innocent life.

Still, he refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing him break. His gaze remained locked onto the elders, unwavering. If they sought to teach him a lesson, let them learn one in return—he would endure, and he would not yield.