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A Lan falls asleep at exactly nine at night and wakes at exactly five in the morning. Except that, after the burning of Cloud Recesses, Lan Xichen does not. Sleep eludes him, leaving him awake deep into the night, and when he does finally fall asleep it is not fitful, and he wakes before five. When in hiding, Meng Yao had worried after him, seeing how the circles under his eyes darkened, how his mind was less sharp, and did his best to soothe his friend. He'd given him teas, softly sung to him, ran his fingers through his hair. Sometimes it had helped, but not always. That time is behind him, though. The Sunshot Campaign is over. Meng Yao is now Jin Guangyao. Cloud Recesses is being rebuilt. But still, Lan Xichen cannot sleep.
It's exactly nine at night, and he sits in his temporary quarters in Lotus Pier, fingers idly tapping on his long-empty tea glass. He's here to offer some support to Jiang Cheng as he tries to settle into sect leadership without a war to wage, and while it's a quick trip, it's one that necessitated a stay overnight. He's not sure if it's more or less difficult to fall asleep here than it is back at home, though he supposes it doesn't particularly matter. All that matters is that he's awake when he'd much rather not be.
On the plus side, Lotus Pier doesn't have a curfew, so he resolves himself to take a walk, hoping the night air will clear his mind enough that he can sleep, or that maybe he can burn off some of his restlessness with movement. Stepping out of his room, he looks over the old buildings, many of which possess light impressions where decorations have been torn off but not yet replaced - ghosts of the Wen clan's occupation. He pulls in a slow breath, and begins to walk, not wanting to consider that when he's already so ill at ease.
After some useless wandering Lan Xichen's plan is to head to the training grounds, but on the way he passes by the kitchen and the smell of cooking draws his attention. It draws the attention of his stomach too - it rumbles. He'd forgotten to eat. Slightly ashamed, but curious and hungry enough to investigate, Lan Xichen slides open the door, expecting to see kitchen staff or Jiang Yanli.
Instead, he sees Jiang Cheng, stirring a pot with one hand while the other holds open a small book on the table next to him. His face is surprisingly soft and relaxed for a moment as he lifts his eyes, likely expecting to see his sister just like Lan Xichen had, but at realizing who it is his walls are up again, a small scowl set on his lips.
"I'm surprised you're up, Zewu-Jun." Despite his expression, Jiang Cheng doesn't sound annoyed. A little wary, maybe, but not annoyed.
"It is past my bedtime," Lan Xichen agrees, but for the moment doesn't offer an explanation. "...I didn't know you could cook."
Jiang Cheng slowly closes the book and motions with a tilt of his chin, a silent offer for Lan Xichen to join him inside. Happy for the invitation he steps in and quietly shuts the door behind him. It's nice and warm in the kitchen, and it smells unfamiliar but welcoming.
"My sister taught me. Wei Wuxian will let her baby him all the time, but I don't need that."
"Ah, it must be nice sometimes though, right?" Tired and out of his element, Lan Xichen is watching his words less, and he murmurs this almost wistfully. Meng Yao took care of him, but who else in his life ever has? Nie Mingjue, in his way, but it was never as tender as he's seen Jiang Yanli with her brothers. Did he manage to be that loving with Wangji? He hopes so.
Silence hangs in the air, aside from the occasional click of the spoon on the edge of the pot. Lan Xichen seats himself at a low table hesitantly, wondering if his careless words have irrevocably damaged this interaction. Jiang Cheng is in a delicate place now, young and trying to assert himself as a sect leader - he probably doesn't need anyone suggesting that he should enjoy being babied from time to time.
"Forgive-"
"It is nice, sometimes."
It's almost begrudging, the way Jiang Cheng says it, but he does say it. Lan Xichen gives a small nod. He wants to ask the other sect leader to tell him more, about how he's been cared for in the past, about how their family had shown love. But he doesn't.
"Siblings are wonderful things," he settles on instead.
Jiang Cheng grunts in agreement and shifts on his feet, and only now does Lan Xichen realize that he looks a little stiff and uncomfortable. He really is intruding. The thought brings a small frown to his lips, and this expression only deepens as his traitorous stomach rumbles loud enough that Jiang Cheng can hear it. Somehow, though, this seems to relax the other boy. He even quirks something of a smile.
"Can't sleep and haven't eaten? Maybe you need someone to baby you, Zewu-Jun."
"If you find someone up for the job, please send them my way."
Jiang Cheng's smile softens a little around the edges, and Lan Xichen hopes it means he feels less on the defensive. He's surprised to find his own shoulders relax a little, even though he hadn't even realized they'd been tensed.
Lan Xichen watches as Jiang Cheng gets a bowl and ladles some soup into it. He's about to offer to leave him to his meal when the bowl is set in front of him, along with a spoon. The smile has gone from Jiang Cheng's lips again, but the tightness in his brows that, at one time, Lan Xichen had assumed was permanent, has smoothed out.
"You'll sleep better if you don't go to bed hungry. This is my sister's pork rib and lotus root soup. She makes it better, but… this is what you get."
Lan Xichen cups his hands around the bowl, the warmth spreading across his fingers and, he imagines, through his entire body. A tendril of care moving through his worn out frame.
"Thank you, sect leader. It smells wonderful."
Though he's starving, he wants to let it cool some, and he wants to wait for Jiang Cheng, who's ladling out a bowl for himself and coming to sit across from him. He, too, wraps his fingers around his bowl, seeming content to just sit for a short while like this.
Lan Xichen smiles, waiting patiently for a few minutes before he finally tries some. It's rich and flavorful, a welcome shock to his system. Every time he leaves Cloud Recesses he's always startled again by how different food is.
"I'd be surprised if anyone could make this taste any better."
Jiang Cheng looks at Lan Xichen with an almost bewildered expression before he ducks his head and tries his own soup.
"I should have cooked the lotus roots for longer," he says, quietly, as though unable to accept straight praise. It dawns on Lan Xichen that maybe he can't.
"Well, I like it just how it is." Lan Xichen isn't going to argue outright, but he isn't going to just let his companion be hard on himself without at least trying to reassure him. Again, silence falls over the room. Lan Xichen finishes embarrassingly fast, and before he can decide if he's shameful enough to ask for seconds, Jiang Cheng is already standing to get him more.
What hangs between them is not uncomfortable - whatever awkwardness there had been around Jiang Cheng's difficulty receiving praise has dissipated. Their silence feels familiar, even though they really don't know each other that well. They'd fought together during the Sunshot Campaign, but in the midst of battle, people are different. Just because you know the rawness of a person there doesn't mean you know them when they cover themselves back up again. And Jiang Cheng, despite often wearing his heart on his sleeve, is someone who is very guarded in his own way; the mask of anger he wears covers everything else more often than not. But here, now, there is a tranquility that Lan Xichen feels like is maybe a step closer to knowing something much deeper about the other young man. It's not much, but it's certainly a start.
As he finishes his second bowl, Jiang Cheng raises an eyebrow at him. The silent question is understood, and Lan Xichen smiles, thoroughly embarrassed but not enough to reject the hospitality.
The stone carved full of rules back home comes to mind: Eating more than three bowls is prohibited.
"I'd love a third."
With this much food being the edge of propriety in Cloud Recesses it's all the more tempting. Jiang Cheng snorts, and gets up to fetch him yet another bowlful.
"You eat more than I'd expect."
"Well, Wangji used to get a third bowl of rice and sneak it to me so I could have four, when we were children." His brother wouldn't like him telling anyone that, but it's so easy to talk right now. Surely he'll forgive him if he finds out.
Jiang Cheng pauses in his ladeling. "...what, really?"
"Mmm. I'm just full of surprises tonight, aren't I?"
The look Jiang Cheng gives him as he slides the thrice-filled bowl across the table is difficult to read, and Lan Xichen watches him curiously in an attempt to decipher it. Whatever it is, it's not bad. It's maybe a little understanding, a little like he's seeing Lan Xichen for the first time. Maybe they're both exposing more of themselves tonight than they'd intended. Though Lan Xichen has never seen himself as difficult to read, he supposes there are a lot of things about him that he often hides under a veneer of Lan control.
He finishes his third bowl, and quickly assures Jiang Cheng that three was plenty. His stomach is finally no longer complaining, and he feels warm and full and content. And, surprisingly and thankfully, sleepy.
Jiang Cheng waves him off as he tries to help clean up.
"Go sleep. You look like sh-" He stops abruptly and clears his throat. "...you can barely keep your eyes open."
Lan Xichen smiles as he stands, his tiredness making him want to laugh at Jiang Cheng's attempt to be more polite. Even so, he doesn't - he simply salutes the other young man, trying to hold onto the sleepiness that really is threatening to drag his lids down.
"I'm really embarrassing myself tonight. Thank you for the soup, and the company. I'll see you in the morning."
He pauses at the door, taking in Jiang Cheng in a way that seems to make the other sect leader shift uncomfortably on his feet. He should really go.
"Good night, Zewu-Jun."
"Good night, Sect Leader Jiang."
It's definitely well past nine when Lan Xichen settles into bed, but tonight he falls asleep as quickly and sleeps as fitfully as though it were exactly nine at night.