Moonlit Hearts

Chapter 29: Threads of Loss and Love

This is a very long chapter, that's why it took me a bit of time to write in between working hours !

I hope you enjoy it ! have fun reading!!

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As the mist swirled around him, Wangji found himself pulled into another memory, one that he had both dreaded and cherished. The scene slowly came into focus, revealing a dimly lit room in the Jingshi. It was a few weeks after his punishment. Wangji had been punished for his defiance, stripped of his titles, and confined to the Cloud Recesses. The weight of responsibility for A-Yuan had fallen solely on his shoulders.

The memory began with Wangji sitting on the edge of a small bed, his shoulders slumped with exhaustion. The room was dim, the soft glow of a single lantern casting long shadows on the walls, while the air was thick with the scent of incense—an attempt to bring some peace to the troubled household. A-Yuan, barely five years old, lay beside him, clutching a small wooden rabbit toy that Wei Ying had carved for him. Though simple, the toy was a cherished keepsake, a symbol of happier times now seemingly lost.

The child's cheeks were wet with tears, his tiny body wracked with sobs that seemed too big for someone so small. "Baba, where's Diedie?" A-Yuan's voice trembled, filled with confusion and fear. His large, tear-filled eyes looked up at Wangji, seeking answers that Wangji himself struggled to provide. "Why isn't he coming back?"

Wangji's heart ached with a pain that felt almost unbearable. Each tear that fell from A-Yuan's eyes seemed to cut into him, a constant reminder of the void Wei Ying had left behind. He reached out, his hand shaking slightly, and gently wiped the tears from A-Yuan's cheeks. "Diedie had to go away for a while, A-Yuan. But he loves you very much and will always be in our hearts until he comes back."

A-Yuan's sobs only intensified, his small fists clutching Wangji's robes desperately. "I want Diedie! I want him now!" His cries were heart-wrenching, a raw expression of the loss and abandonment he felt. Despite all his efforts, Wangji felt powerless.

Wangji gathered the child into his arms, holding him tightly against his chest. He could feel A-Yuan's small, trembling body, the rapid heartbeat echoing against his own. "I know, A-Yuan. I miss him too. But we have to be strong, for him and for each other." His voice was steady, but the emotional weight behind it was immense.

As Wangji gently rocked A-Yuan, memories of Wei Ying flooded his mind—how Wei Ying had comforted their son with stories and laughter, how his presence had filled their home with warmth. Now, that warmth was gone, leaving behind a cold void that Wangji struggled to fill alone. The responsibility was almost too much to bear, yet he knew he had to remain strong for A-Yuan's sake. A lump rose in his throat, but he forced it down, his resolve firm even as his heart ached with the loneliness of his new reality.

The room was quiet except for A-Yuan's soft cries and the distant sounds of the night outside. Wangji whispered soothing words, his voice steady but filled with a sorrow that mirrored his son's. He spoke of the happy times they had shared with Wei Ying, trying to bring some comfort to A-Yuan's troubled heart.

"Do you remember the time Diedie took us to the river to catch fireflies?" Wangji asked softly, his fingers gently stroking A-Yuan's hair. "He showed you how to make a lantern out of leaves. You were so excited, and your lantern shone the brightest."

A-Yuan's sobs began to quiet down, the memory of that night slowly calming him. He nodded against Wangji's chest, his grip on the wooden rabbit loosening slightly. "Diedie said fireflies are like little stars that come to visit us," he whispered, his voice still trembling.