Mo Dao Zu Shi - Le Grand Maître de la cultivation démoniaque, Tome 4

There was a child sitting on the ground, plopped right in front of Lan Wangji’s feet. He was bawling, tears and snot rolling freely down his face.

Lan Wangji couldn’t leave, couldn’t stay, couldn’t reach out, couldn’t say a word. His face was stern, like he was considering his options.

The bystanders provided commentary as they peeled and snacked on melon seeds.

“What’s goin’ on? That itty bitty bean is crying his heart out.”

“Probably got scolded by his dad,” someone said with conviction.

At the suggestion of “dad,” Wei Wuxian sputtered a laugh from his hiding spot in the crowd. Lan Wangji immediately looked up and denied the claim.

“I am not his father.”

Wen Yuan didn’t understand what anyone was talking about, but children always call for their loved ones when they are frightened. And so, he sobbed and cried, “Daddy! Daddy! Waaaaaaaaah…”

“Y’hear that? I told you, he’s the dad!” a passerby declared immediately.

“He’s definitely the father,” commented a passerby who considered themselves to have a keen eye. “Their noses are cast from the same mold! It’s a sure thing!”

“Oh, poor boy, he’s crying so hard,” said a sympathetic-looking passerby. “Did his dad yell at him?”

“What’s going on over there?” a confused passerby exclaimed. “Excuse me, excuse me, my cart can’t get through!”

“Don’t you know how to pick up your child and comfort him?” a passerby berated Lan Wangji. “What kind of dad are you, just letting your son sit on the ground and cry?!”

“You’re so young, this must be your first time being a dad,” a passerby consoled Lan Wangji understandingly. “I was like that, too, back when. I didn’t know a dang thing. You’ll get the hang of it once your wife bears a few more. It all takes time…”

“Don’t cry, baby,” a passerby cooed at the child. “Where’s your mommy?”

“Yeah, where’s the mom? His dad doesn’t care, so where’s the mom?”

Lan Wangji was drowning in the wave of noise, and his expression was growing odder by the second.

Pity the man who was born the darling of the heavens. His every word and every action were the epitome of elegance; he was the role model of role models. Never had he encountered such a situation; never had he been forced to suffer the accusations of the masses. Wei Wuxian was laughing himself to death, but upon seeing that Wen Yuan was about to pass out from weeping, he had no choice but to step forward.