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Chapter Text

Jiang Yanli stood in the kitchen in Lotus Pier, watching her brothers fighting out of the window. Just as she put the spices into the lotus root and pork ribs soup she had prepared; she remembered all of the times Wei Wuxian had attempted to prepare Yunmeng’s traditional dishes in the past years.

It had begun, as most quarrels between them did, with something insignificant. Wei Wuxian may have given Jiang Cheng a tug too many or Jiang Cheng pushed Wei Wuxian away one too many times, but the next thing Jiang Yanli knew, they were fighting each other and shouting at each other.

Their words started off meaningless, not really hurting each other, until they did.

“Why do you always act so foolish?” Jiang Cheng asked, pushing Wei Wuxian roughly on the ground, against the grass. “You’re always messing around, not taking anything too seriously.”

Yanli knew that it had been a particularly strict day of training for them both, and the sun had been unrelenting, its rays heating up the ground and shining straight on her brothers’ heads. Yanli knew how restless and irritated Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian got when they had trained especially hard or when it was humid around them, and this was one of the days when it had been both.

“Well, maybe if you were competent enough to actually get things done, then I wouldn’t have to behave that way!” Wei Wuxian replied. And even Yanli could see, from as far as she was standing, the immediate regret and guilt that shown on Wei Wuxian’s face.

Jiang Cheng staggered backwards, the pain and hurt clearly showing on his face in a few seconds of vulnerability and openness. For a few moments, Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng just stood there in shock, silently facing each other.

Then Wei Wuxian stepped forward, reaching out to his brother. “Jiang Cheng,” he softly spoke, his voice cracking on the name. He knew that there was no coming back from this.

Yanli watched Jiang Cheng’s eyes widening as he stepped backwards, flinching at Wei Wuxian’s words. Tears welled up in his eyes and he ran faster than Yanli had ever seen him run in his entire life. Wei Wuxian couldn’t hope to follow him that fast.

Jiang Yanli walked over to Wei Wuxian after giving him enough time alone. “A-Xian.” She gently laid a hand on his shoulder.

Wei Wuxian was trembling, sobbing hard. “What should I do, Shijie? I hurt him so badly. What can I do to make things better? I shouldn’t have said those things. He hates me now. He’ll never forgive me. I’m the worst brother ever!”

“A-Xian, A-Cheng doesn’t hate you. You’re his brother. He will forgive you. We are family, aren’t we? Just go apologise to him.” Yanli told him, rubbing a reassuring hand on his back.

“No. It’s not enough. It won’t be enough. I have to— I have to do something more. Like maybe bring him a gift. What does he really love? Just as much as he loves dogs?”

Yanli watched her cute little brother pout, deep in thought. Sure, he wasn’t a child anymore, he was a teenager now, 13 years of age, but to Jiang Yanli, Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng would always be children, no matter how old they got.

“Oh!” Wei Wuxian’s face suddenly lit up. “I know. Shijie, can you teach me how to make A-Cheng’s favourite dish?”

Yanli smiled and nodded her head. That was something she could do.

By the time their meal was prepared, Wei Wuxian had several cuts and bruises on his hands. He had never cooked before; he only entered the kitchen when he was hungry and wanted to steal some food from the cooks, or when he wanted a taste of Yanli’s famous soup.

But today, he had insisted on doing all of the work himself, wanting his apology to Jiang Cheng to mean something. Yanli was happy that Wei Wuxian had worked so hard on his apology for his brother, although she was concerned about how red the food was looking. Wei Wuxian had most certainly added too much spice to the meal, but she wasn’t going to tell him that.

As Wei Wuxian carried the food out of the kitchen, with Yanli right behind him, he stopped at the entrance to the dining hall. Yanli knew it was because he was searching for Jiang Cheng. He brightened up when he spotted Jiang Cheng, running up to his brother, who was sitting alone at a table, staring into nothingness.

“Jiang Cheng!” Jiang Cheng tensed up at the sound of Wei Wuxian’s voice and looked away quickly. Wei Wuxian stumbled close to him and kept the meal in front of Jiang Cheng. “Look what I made for you, Jiang Cheng!”

Jiang Cheng peeked at the meal from the corner of his eye, still frowning as he looked away again. Wei Wuxian poked Jiang Cheng. “Jiang Cheng! I cooked your favourite food for you. Look. Look at my hands, look how much I cut and bruised them trying to make your favourite meal for you.”

At this, Jiang Cheng blinked and turned to face the meal. “You made this?” He asked his mouth now in a straight line.

“Yes! I felt so horrible, and I knew you’d hate me and never forgive me, and I’m so sorry for what I said, A-Cheng.” Wei Wuxian blurted out all at once. Yanli shook her head fondly at her brothers.

“You are?” Jiang Cheng was poking at the food with a fork now.

“Of course, I am! I didn’t mean any of the things I said to you. I don’t know why I said them.”

“You didn’t?” Jiang Cheng stopped poking at the food and was frowning at it. “Because you were right, you know. Maybe if I was as smart and intelligent and strong as you, then I wouldn’t—"

“No! That’s not true,” Wei Wuxian immediately shut him down, wildly gesturing around him. “You’re the most competent person I know, Jiang Cheng. You’re going to become the best Sect Leader the world has ever known when we grow up. Everyone is going to know your name, and they’re going to know better than to mess with you and the Jiang Clan. That’s how good I know you’re gonna be.”

Jiang Cheng played with the food in front of him. “You’re just saying that because you don’t want me to be mad at you anymore.”

“I’m not. I really mean it, I swear!” Wei Wuxian spoke sincerely.

Yanli watched as Jiang Cheng’s anger immediately melted. He turned to Wei Wuxian and nudged him. “Did you really cook this? Or are you taking credit for A-jie’s work again?”

Wei Wuxian dramatically clutched his chest and gasped, “Jiang Cheng. How dare— Shijie, tell Jiang Cheng who made this tasty dish for him.”

Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian both faced Yanli. “It was A-Xian, A-Cheng. He felt terrible about what he had said to you and he wanted to give you a gift as an apology.”

“See! I told you.” Wei Wuxian crossed his arms and smirked at Jiang Cheng.

Jiang Cheng didn’t say anything for a few moments, searching Wei Wuxian’s eyes for something, and then he dug into his food. He wordlessly scooped up spoonfuls of the meal, downing it so fast that Yanli felt worried for him. She knew how much spice Wei Wuxian had put in the meal, but she hadn’t had the chance to warn Jiang Cheng about it.

But Jiang Cheng didn’t seem deterred from eating the food for even a moment, he ate it all until his plate was completely empty. Wei Wuxian waited impatiently, tapping his foot as he stared at Jiang Cheng.

“What?” Jiang Cheng asked, irritated.

Wei Wuxian blinked at him expectantly. “Come on. Tell me how it was? Was it good? It must have been good because you finished it all so fast.”

Jiang Cheng scowled, looking down at his empty plate. “It’s the best meal I’ve ever had,” he said, his cheeks flushing.

Wei Wuxian’s jaw dropped. “Even better than Shijie’s soup?” he dared to ask.

Jiang Cheng chanced a glance at his sister before looking down at his hands, his cheeks tinted darker. He nodded his head.

Wei Wuxian’s eyes turned comically large before he threw himself at his brother.

“Wei Wuxian!” Jiang Cheng screamed as he toppled backwards.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, Jiang Cheng! I love you so much. You’re my favourite sibling, you know that? Sorry, Shijie, but I love Jiang Cheng the most.” Wei Wuxian exclaimed, wrapping his arms tightly around Jiang Cheng.

Jiang Cheng melted into the hug, not pushing Wei Wuxian away as he hid his reddened face in Wei Wuxian’s shoulder, and Yanli could hear Jiang Cheng’s muffled mumble. “You’re my favourite sibling too.”

Chapter Text

Jiang Cheng had a fever. It was a mild fever, Shijie had told him, but Jiang Cheng never got a fever. Wei Wuxian was not worried, of course, about Jiang Cheng. He wasn’t supposed to be worried because he wasn’t talking to Jiang Cheng. And he wasn’t talking to Jiang Cheng because they had sort of had a fight two days ago.

Wei Wuxian hadn’t been acting reckless and he hadn’t asked to be drowned in the water. He had thought he’d seen a lotus pod floating somewhere near the docks. How could he have known that it was just overgrown seaweed and waste? And how could he have known that he would get his leg stuck in it? He had tried to be as careful as he could have been, but according to Jiang Cheng, it hadn’t been careful enough.

Jiang Cheng had pulled Wei Wuxian out and then given him a lecture about being more careful and asking for help and about how sick and tired he was of saving Wei Wuxian’s stupid ass.

“Fine! Then you don’t have to save me any longer. I didn’t ask you to save me this time either. You could have just let me drown,” Wei Wuxian had angrily yelled back.

“Wei Wuxian!” Jiang Cheng had fisted Wei Wuxian’s robes in his hands, with a rage that Wei Wuxian had never seen before. Then he had pushed Wei Wuxian away roughly. “Next time you need help, don’t call for me. Die, and see if I care.”

Jiang Cheng had walked away with those words, leaving Wei Wuxian at the docks. They hadn’t spoken since then. And Wei Wuxian had stayed at the docks until his shijie had called him for dinner. He still wouldn’t admit to wiping the tears in his eyes as he had followed her.

Now here he was, brooding as he sat in the middle of the training grounds and stared into the distance. He was angry about the fact that no one had told him that Jiang Cheng was sick. He had found out when he had loudly asked the teacher and the disciples why Jiang Cheng hadn’t come for training. Jiang Cheng never missed training, not that Wei Wuxian cared.

That was when he had found out that Jiang Cheng had spiked up a sudden fever the night before and it made sense to him why he hadn’t seen his shijie for breakfast this morning. He hadn’t seen Madam Yu or Uncle Jiang either, but then he never really saw them during breakfast. He always woke up a little too late for that.

So, Wei Wuxian stood up, wiping dirt off of himself, and decided to grudgingly stomp his way to Jiang Cheng’s room. When he opened the door to the room, Shijie was sitting at the bedside, wiping sweat off of Jiang Cheng’s forehead just as Wei Wuxian had predicted. As Shijie turned to him, she seemed slightly surprised to see him, and Jiang Cheng tensed up when he spotted him.

Wei Wuxian didn’t care. He made his way over to his brother, who he had to admit didn’t look too good, and loomed over him. Wei Wuxian crossed his arms and frowned at Jiang Cheng, the same way Jiang Cheng did in front of him sometimes.

After a few seconds of observation, and complete silence (they were all holding their breaths, even Wei Wuxian), Wei Wuxian reached out and gently lay his hand on Jiang Cheng’s forehead. Fucking hell! His brother was burning up! Wei Wuxian would damn whoever had told him that Jiang Cheng was only slightly feverish.

Wei Wuxian then held his hand against Jiang Cheng’s cheek and neck, and they felt even hotter.

“Jiang Cheng, you’re really sick,” Wei Wuxian said, worriedly sitting next to Shijie at Jiang Cheng’s bedside. Jiang Cheng huffed out a breath and looked away. Wei Wuxian turned to his sister. “Shijie, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I just found out this morning when Mother told me,” Shijie told him. “A-Cheng didn’t tell anyone that he wasn’t feeling well for a while, did you A-Cheng?”

Jiang Cheng continued to look away, his cheeks red. Wei Wuxian couldn’t figure out whether it was from the fever or something else. As Shijie’s words sunk in, Wei Wuxian’s frown deepened. Jiang Cheng hadn’t been feeling well for a while? But he had been fine when—

Wei Wuxian suddenly gasped. “Jiang Cheng you— you— you fucker! You asshole! You absolute—!” He shook his brother, with a violence and anger he had never felt towards him before. Jiang Cheng stared at him in shock, eyes widened and mouth gaping slightly.

“A-Xian!” Shijie called out his name alarmed, pulling him away from Jiang Cheng. But Wei Wuxian didn’t care. He was just so— so fucking mad at his brother!

“You fell ill after you jumped into the water to save me, didn’t you?!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed. “You arrogant bastard, you— you—! Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded to know.

Jiang Cheng blinked at him, and then, to Wei Wuxian’s surprise, a small smile grew on his face. Why was he smiling?

“Now you know how I feel,” Jiang Cheng said softly, and Wei Wuxian wondered how high Jiang Cheng’s fever must be for him to talk nonsense, “every time I have to watch you get hurt. And you never ask for help. I always have to run after you and save you.”

“It’s not the same thing,” Wei Wuxian mumbled, taking the wet cloth from his shijie and sitting where she had been. “You can go Shijie. I’ll take care of this stubborn idiot.”

Shijie nodded, ruffled Wei Wuxian’s hair, gave Jiang Cheng a soft kiss on the forehead and whispered for him to feel better before she walked away.

Jiang Cheng spoke as he watched their sister walk away. “Why is it not the same thing?” he asked. “Is it because you think my life is worth more than yours?”

Yes, Wei Wuxian wanted to scream, your life is worth a lot more than mine. But what he said was, “It’s because you are a future sect leader.” And my brother. Jiang Cheng looked away bitterly. “The Yunmeng Jiang Sect needs you.”

“And what about you?” Jiang Cheng asked. Wei Wuxian swallowed as he put the damp cloth in his hand on Jiang Cheng’s forehead, wiping away new sweat that had gathered there. “Don’t you need me?”

The vulnerability in Jiang Cheng’s voice made Wei Wuxian freeze and finally meet his eyes. I need you more than you could ever know, A-Cheng. “Jiang Cheng,” he said softly, “of course I do. You have no idea how worried I was when I didn’t see you at the training grounds today, and when I heard that you had a fever…. You should have told me.”

Jiang Cheng looked away again and muttered something that didn’t reach Wei Wuxian’s ears, but Wei Wuxian held Jiang Cheng’s chin and tilted it towards himself, careful not to hurt Jiang Cheng in the process. Wei Wuxian gently rubbed the damp cloth against both of Jiang Cheng’s cheeks and then pressed it lightly against his neck.

“I wanted to tell you, but I knew you were mad at me and I— I didn’t think you would care.” Jiang Cheng spoke up quietly.

Wei Wuxian looked at Jiang Cheng with disbelief. “You didn’t think that I would care about the fact that my didi had a fever?”

Jiang Cheng refused to look at him. “I—”

“Especially that you had a fever because you had to dive in and save me the day before yesterday?” Wei Wuxian felt like a dam ready to burst, a volcano ready to explode.

“I just thought—” Jiang Cheng hesitantly spoke.

“Well, you thought wrong,” Wei Wuxian interrupted, “and if you ever think like that again or keep things from me, then I’ll— I’ll— I’ll tell Shijie to never make our favourite soup again. Or worse. I’ll tell her to make our favourite soup and then I’ll drink it all up!"

Jiang Cheng gasped. “You would never!”

Wei Wuxian raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Try me.”

When Wei Wuxian joined his shijie in the kitchen, it was already mid-afternoon. Jiang Cheng had fallen asleep some time after having lunch, and Wei Wuxian had stayed by his side for some more time, checking his fever between intervals, before finally letting him get sleep on his own.

“Shijie, are you making lotus root and pork ribs soup for Jiang Cheng?” Wei Wuxian asked. He could already see the water boiling in a container, and his shijie was popping lotus seeds out of their pods. She looked at him and nodded her head. “I want to help,” Wei Wuxian said.

When Jiang Cheng woke up, Wei Wuxian was by his side keeping a tray of soup in front of him. “Drink up,” he said.

Jiang Cheng looked suspiciously at the soup kept in the bowl for him. “Who made this?”

Wei Wuxian tried not to feel too nervous. He had made the soup entirely on his own, but Shijie had been there all along, instructing him on what to do and exactly how to do it. After all, it was his fault that Jiang Cheng was sick.

“I did,” he said.

Jiang Cheng snorted, “Yeah, right. Tell A-jie I said thank you.” He took a spoonful of soup and then froze after he had taken a sip.

“I really did make it,” Wei Wuxian muttered quietly. “Shijie helped.”

Jiang Cheng slowly looked up from the bowl, his eyes meeting Wei Wuxian’s. He swallowed and then took another spoonful of the soup. Wei Wuxian watched silently as Jiang Cheng finished half of the soup, and then groaned.

“Jiang Cheng.”

“Wei Wuxian, I can’t.” Jiang Cheng admitted, and Wei Wuxian leaned forward with his hand already outstretched to check his temperature. Jiang Cheng swatted away the hand.

“It isn’t that bad,” Wei Wuxian teased, but his brother didn’t take the bait. “Look if you don’t drink up the remaining soup, then I’ll have to go throw it in the lake and let it all go to waste. Would you like that, Jiang Cheng, hmmm?”

Jiang Cheng looked down at the soup in his hands and kept it on the tray. “Maybe the fish will have it,” he replied.

Wei Wuxian rolled his eyes, giving up on convincing his brother. He took the bowl into his own hands and took a spoonful of the soup. Blowing on it once, he pushed the tray away, sidling up next to his brother. “Open up.”

Jiang Cheng groaned. “You have to be kidding me.” But he did as his brother told him to and kept his mouth open.

Wei Wuxian put the spoon into his mouth and watched as Jiang Cheng chewed a bit before swallowing the soup. He pulled the spoon out of his brother’s mouth and repeated the motion until all of the soup was in his brother’s stomach and the bowl was empty.

“There we go,” Wei Wuxian wiped Jiang Cheng’s mouth with his sleeve and kept the bowl aside on the tray.

Jiang Cheng stared at Wei Wuxian, his entire face, neck and his ears red. “Thank you,” he said, so softly that Wei Wuxian wasn’t sure he had heard him correctly at first.

“Don’t be ridiculous, A-Cheng. What are you thanking me for?” Wei Wuxian demanded.

“For making the soup. It was delicious,” Jiang Cheng spoke, his gaze faltering and shifting to his fidgeting hands.

“Was it more delicious than the soup Shijie makes?” Wei Wuxian asked. It was a long-standing joke between him and his brother, ever since the first time Wei Wuxian had made something for him.

But Jiang Cheng’s words were genuine as he made eye contact with Wei Wuxian. “You know it was.”