All That's Left Is An Unspoken Word

Chp 5: Streaming Down, a River

When I woke up from a nightmare, my father was not beside me. I thought that he was taking a walk outside, but when I sat down to look out the window, he was not there. So I jumped out of bed to find him.

For as long as I can remember, I have always lived with my dad. Our house was always kept neat, and tidy. My father taught me and other disciples of the clan, along with my grandfather. 

I slid the curtains open, and I still could not see my father. I was about to step foot outside when I caught from the corner of my eye, a glimpse of something that caught my attention. Across from the bedroom, was where my father usually stayed, maybe to meditate. I opened the curtains to see a big mess.

The table had piles of bamboo, and a lot of excess wood was scattered all around the floor. What is this?  I leaned closer to the bamboo stick and examined it further. Turns out it was a flute. It did not look so good, however, when I held it with both my hands...

***

Lan Wangji looked down. He walked slowly like he did not give a thought about the world, despite hurrying up before his son woke up. Lan Wangji was aware of Lan Sizhui's constant nightmares, so he rushed as he held a basket of fruits and porridge. Back straightened, walking steadily with a hand behind.

Lan Wangji slid the door open. He walked towards the table with his head turned right to look at his bed, as he placed the basket he held on the table. The wind from outside the window seeped in. The curtains slightly brushed open, along with the fresh air.

His eyes searched for somewhat, a silhouette. But he was then shaken to not see even a bump on his bed. He rose and walked fast toward the curtain that led to his bedroom, to then unveil a messy bed. But that was not his concern. Where was his son? His heart sank.

He crouched to look under the bed, but shortly realized his foolishness. Lan Wangji turned his head abruptly, and his eyes fell on a figure. He rushed to the other side of the room, his eyesight was getting fuzzy.

He pulled the curtains apart to see Lan Sizhui. He panted, slumping his shoulder on the wall, rubbing both his eyes. Lan Sizhui was startled, he was frightened and couldn't speak. He dropped the flute and backed away. Suddenly he could not breathe, as he was pulled into a tight embrace.

After a few seconds, Lan Wangji pulled himself and Lan Sizhui apart. "You... What are you doing out of bed?" He asked with both his hands still wrapped around Lan Sizhui, in a tight grip on both arms. "I'm sorry... I- I was looking for you..." Lan Sizhui's face twitched, and a tear threatened to fall.

Lan Wangji was speechless, it wasn't Lan Sizhui's fault. He gently stroked Lan Sizhui's cheek, disappointed in himself. "I'm sorry, I won't leave again, okay?" He told his son reassuring him, as he thought about the love this child could get when his beloved was still here. Lan Sizhui hugged his father once again. "You've returned for me..." His voice trembled and he smiled warmly.

***

It didn't look good. It doesn't even seem like it would work. But I'm sure, I'm sure that what I'm holding with both my hands is a flute. Not well carved, but I feel... Somewhat, familiar with it. And since when have I known what a flute looked like?