Work Text:
One, two, three—
Yu Ziyuan sighs and sets her teacup in its saucer.
There it is. Jiang Cheng finishes his tea and takes his time selecting a sandwich from the tiered tray between them. He decides on the smoked salmon. He ignores his mother’s pointed glare and selects a mini lemon cake as well. If his mother is going to continue to insist they meet for weekly tea at this fussy little cafe, he’s damn well going to take advantage of it.
“The lavender shortbread is very nice today,” he says. “Would you care for a piece?”
“A-Cheng, I did not invite you here to snack,” she says, disdain weighing the final word.
Jiang Cheng does not roll his eyes. He does take a piece of the shortbread.
Ziyuan relents and takes a piece for herself.
“It’s alright,” she pronounces after sampling a second piece. “Now, can we talk?”
“I’m listening,” Jiang Cheng says as he tops off their tea. “I have been listening the whole time. You haven’t said anything yet.” Oh, he’d have to remember to tell Mingjue that his mother’s eye twitched when he said that. Mingjue would be so proud. He might even reward him with —
“—worried when you dropped the MBA program,” she says.
Jiang Cheng sits up straight and pays attention now. It’s been years since she badgered him about his education and career. This might not be as fun as he thought.
“Mother, I—“
“Hush, A-Cheng, I’m not here to criticize you.”
She sips her tea, and he can see her thinking through her words. It does not soothe his nerves.
“We had such high expectations for you, as you know,” she says after a moment, “so when you decided to become an accountant, well, your father and I were disappointed. I won’t lie and say we weren’t. However,” she goes on as he opens his mouth to object, “I can see now that it was the right choice for you. Starting your own business, working from home. These choices have laid the groundwork for you to really come into your own.” She sets her cup down and folds her hands in her lap. “I don’t think I can quite forgive you for eloping, but I understand why you did it. And A-Cheng, we — I — am so proud of you. That boy—“
“Jingyi,” Jiang Cheng says, his voice rough. “Lan Jingyi.”
“Of course. Jingyi. Well, I have to admit, I always liked him, whenever he tagged along with A-Ling and A-Yuan. He has a spark. And you and Mingjue have kept it alight.”
“Oh. Thank you, Mother. That’s kind of you to say.”
“A-Cheng,” Ziyuan says, with an expression that, coming from anyone else would be a smirk. “We both know that kindness is not one of my virtues. It’s the truth. Now,” she says as she retrieves a manila envelope from her bag, “I understand from Qiren that you have everything necessary for Jingyi’s upkeep in order, but seeing as how he is as good as family now, your father and I have made the appropriate changes to our will. We have included Mingjue as well, and there is a clause that takes any future children into account.” She pauses a moment, but Jiang Cheng is too shocked to process that last bit at the moment.
“Mother, you didn’t, that is to say, I’m…well, I don’t know what to say.”
Ziyuan hands him the envelope. “A simple thank you will cover it,” she says.
Jiang Cheng blinks back tears, and Ziyuan pretends not to see them.
“Thank you, Mother.” He takes the folder and tucks it into his messenger bag.
“You’ve changed, A-Cheng, and it is very much for the better.” She reaches across the table for his hand and gives it a good squeeze. “Now, are there any of the cucumber and herbed cream cheese sandwiches left? I quite like those.”