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"Do you want me to help you change?"
Wei Ying feels wary.
Jiang Cheng stands at the door to his room. He is the only familiar aspect of this room, his deep purple robes strangely the brightest thing in all of Qinghe.
Wei Ying hates that he feels this way because he's never felt this way before. Jiang Cheng's presence would have once been a sign of comfort and familiarity. He is one of the closest to Wei Ying's heart, and it's because he's so dear to him that Wei Ying cannot be at peace in his presence.
"I'll take a bath later," Wei Ying says.
Normally, Jiang Cheng would have feigned disgust. He would do everything in his power to get Wei Ying into that tub, wash him if it's the only way to do it, and wrestle with him until Lan Zhan comes in to wipe the mess.
But Jiang Cheng doesn't do any of that. Jiang Cheng looked genuinely concerned. The furrow of his eyebrows is what's been plaguing Wei Ying's nightmares, but it'd also been the one to give him hope.
He'd been afraid to see Jiang Cheng worry, but it is the same worried expression that got Wei Ying out of the Burial Mounds. Seeing him worry makes Wei Ying want to fix whatever it is that troubles him.
Jiang Cheng steps inside and slides the door closed. For a moment, Wei Ying prepares to step away and avoid any contact with him, but Jiang Cheng merely sits on the bed.
It creaks beneath Jiang Cheng's weight. It's one of those standard beds disciples get when they first come to learn cultivation. It is also thankfully small, too small to fit two or three adult men.
“Did Lan Zhan get all his ingredients?” Wei Ying asks, hiding his hands behind his back. The change in position drives Chengqing closer to his side where he tucks it away.
He wants to touch him.
Wei Ying barely remembers not ever touching Jiang Cheng. At least not when they’re in the same room. Touch is how Wei Ying loves, rejoices, and grieves. It is in touch and warmth that Wei Ying knows and is known.
If Wei Ying had been very slightly weaker, he might have caved.
He will know , Wei Ying thinks. Jiang Cheng will feel his lack of Golden Core and Wei Ying will not know how to navigate that conversation.
"You know he just cares about you," Jiang Cheng sighs.
Ah.
Lan Zhan had been angry with him. He did not belittle or yell at Wei Ying. It didn't even last that long; Lan Zhan had caved in less than a day. It hadn't been a cruel ultimatum—he just made it absolutely clear that Demonic Cultivation would bring him no good.
He knows it brings no good to the one that wields it. Everyone who ever said it is no good has been right. But Wei Ying cannot openly agree, because doing so means Lan Zhan will also know .
They have all made plans. Even at the worst of the war, they're still holding hope that there's a future for them all. Some of those plans are more complicated now that Wei Ying doesn’t have a Core—travel, get married maybe, build Lotus Pier together. He doesn't know how they're all going to go about the plans now that there's one glaring factor that hasn't been considered.
"And he cares about you," Wei Ying says.
Jiang Cheng and Lan Zhan also had a fight. It happened the night after the three of them reunited. It'd been so raw and so deeply rooted that Wei Ying knows it hadn't been the first time.
He has never seen them fight before, and Wei Ying had cried the entire night that it stopped the argument in its tracks.
"Psh. Why are we being so serious," Wei Ying grins. He dares to walk close to the bed, suppressing the urge to sit with Jiang Cheng and stay there forever. "Lan Zhan's making soup tonight, right? Let's make sure he gets it right."
-
Wei Ying always liked Lan Xichen.
It is impossible to not like the person Lan Zhan loves dearly. His smiles have always been kind, appreciative, and not brimming with feigned politeness and politics. Wei Ying could not count the times Lan Xichen has personally thanked him for being nice to his little brother.
But Lan Xichen is Zewu-Jun now. He is Sect Leader. And if there is something most Sect Leaders are careful with, it's any direct association with Demonic Cultivation.
"Thank you, for backing Wangji's troops," Lan Xichen says, after they've walked alongside each other for some time.
Lan Xichen has made it absolutely clear that it is alright to speak with him, even publicly, although Wei Ying's not sure how much of that had been influenced by his baby brother.
"I don't think you need to thank me for something I would've freely done," Wei Ying says.
He keeps his tone cheerful because he's apparently coming off aggressive these days. (Jiang Cheng scoffs at this idea, because his shidi clearly has an entirely different metric to what qualifies as "aggressive.")
"Most people thank their in-laws for the smallest things," Lan Xichen says.
Wei Ying tries not to stutter.
This joke has been told multiple times. The first time, Wei Ying thought he'd explode. Jiang Cheng had (quite literally) ran away. He's embarrassed that it still works.
Wei Ying hides his embarrassment with a snort. "You should thank Jiang Cheng for teaching him how to cook."
(By "cook," he means heating things over an open fire. But it's better than nothing.)
Lan Xichen lets out a fond laugh. He's laughing the exact same way as when he'd heard Lan Zhan learned how to swim.
"Lan Zhan's making soup tonight," Wei Ying says. "Do you want a bowl?"
-
Wei Ying feels how he doesn't think he should be feeling. There's anger that he didn't think he'll ever feel, that he'd taught himself not to feel.
Something about Qinghe's foggy mornings and dark clouds feels foreboding. Wei Ying gets this unreasonable feeling that this might be the last he'll see of something. He's not sure whether it merits this much thought to it, if he's being honest.
It's fine.
There is a war, and there's so little else to think about right now. Wei Ying has spent too much time wondering if he's good, bad, or he's changed.
All of them had changed. In some way or another, all at different paces.
"Let's go," Jiang Cheng says as he walks away from the Sect Leaders' meeting.
He looks severe in so many ways. He's wearing the deepest violet, less red and more blue. It's the set robes that make him look taller, more intimidating, and older.
It still doesn't hide that he's a decade younger than the average age of people calling shots in the war.
Wei Ying walks alongside him, a once normal thing that now feels rare and precious. One evening, he thought he'd walk along clear rivers with Jiang Cheng forever, then he's wondering whether it'll happen again at all the next.
"He's already in the kitchens," Jiang Cheng says.
Lan Zhan is attempting to do things that feel familiar. As much as Wei Ying would like to say that he'd been all up for it, he really hadn't been. Jiang Cheng hadn't, either. But Lan Zhan is stubborn and insistent and everything they liked about him from the very beginning.
"Should we put ten thousand peppers in a bowl and send it to the Peacock?"
Jiang Cheng zones out. He's so obviously thinking that Wei Ying just knows he seriously considers it. Knowing him, Jiang Cheng would've run through three different ways to feed Jin Zixuan ten thousand peppers (a dream).
"A-Cheng!" Wei Ying grins. "So evil!"
Jiang Cheng snorts.
The brief laugh loosens the lines on Jiang Cheng's face. He still looks terribly stressed out, but it's better than his mood this morning.
He looks severe, alright. But in the right light, the impression changes.
He's severe in a pleasantly intimidating way. Wei Ying remembered being fourteen and wondering how all the sharp lines of Jiang Cheng would look if he'd grown into it.
(If he's not mistaken, he also really liked that Lan Zhan's a little mean . Maybe Wei Ying has a type.)
"What?" Jiang Cheng asks. "Something on my face?"
Wei Ying looks at Jiang Cheng and knows deep in his heart that some things haven't changed.
-
"We should thank your best friend, Lan Zhan," Wei Ying teases, carefully cutting ginger on his side of the table. "Nie Huaisang literally bribed the cooks to let us mess with their pots."
Lan Zhan makes an adorable face, caught between annoyance and confusion. (He's still in denial about this whole "best friend" nonsense, but Nie Huaisang has since stopped contesting it. Wei Ying wonders if it's going to take them twenty more years to get there.)
They're teaching him how to make lotus soup.
As to why Shijie isn't the one teaching, it's because Lan Zhan is shy . Instead of asking the master herself how to do it, he'd asked for the recipe, some instructions, and panicked when she'd offered to show him how to do it.
(Shijie had been genuinely worried about it until Wei Ying explained it's just Lan Zhan's habit of running off when embarrassed.)
Speaking of, Lan Zhan struggles with the lotus roots, nearly cutting himself multiple times, while Jiang Cheng keeps a close eye on the knife in Lan Zhan's hand.
Jiang Cheng notices Lan Zhan's deepening frown, and sighs, "You know, we can still ask A-Jie to come help."
"She is busy," Lan Zhan says, adamant, and clearly not comfortable interacting with one more person tonight.
Wei Ying catches the discomfort the same time Jiang Cheng does, and they drop it.
They watch Lan Zhan carefully cut each ingredient. Wei Ying can tell he's hyperfocused by the furrow of his brows and the careful way he cuts the mushrooms. He probably even regrets not asking Jiang Yanli the exact way to cut them.
(Shijie suggested they make mushroom lotus soup in a different pot. They'd taste similar enough that Lan Zhan could experience the soup without the meat.)
"She doesn't dice them," Jiang Cheng gently instructs, seeing Lan Zhan hesitating.
Wei Ying feels fond. Lan Zhan still obsesses over making any mistakes, but it's become more endearing as time goes. He still struggles with what Uncle will say and there’s a tiny mistake and I did not deflect the sword fast enough , but he’s allowed himself to make mistakes now. He still gets frustrated, but he’s not as adamant to perfect something overnight.
They know he's always willing to try . He's adorable when he tries.
Sometimes, he'll want to try something by himself, without eyes to see him fumble once or a thousand times. Tonight is one of those nights where he's okay with his lovers seeing him fumbling. Wei Ying treasures these moments of trust the most.
Lan Zhan passes Jiang Cheng the lotus roots, biting his lips.
Jiang Cheng takes them without hesitation. "Okay, what do you want to do?"
Wei Ying sees the subtle surprise in Lan Zhan's face. Jiang Cheng hadn't spoken to him like he's a newbie cook flailing around. He asks Lan Zhan what he wants to do because he believes Lan Zhan has a plan.
Lan Zhan doesn't speak for a few moments, then he pushes a different bowl towards Jiang Cheng, "I meant to boil these."
"Okay," Jiang Cheng says, setting the lotus roots aside. "How much water do you want in the pot?"
This time, Lan Zhan is quicker to respond. "Half full."
Jiang Cheng nods at him encouragingly. Lan Zhan is so overwhelmingly touched, Jiang Cheng is the perfect house husband, and Wei Ying doesn't know who he wants to kiss first.
Wei Ying hides his smile and grabs the sliced mushrooms. "How about these, Lan Zhan?"
Lan Zhan is still adorably blushing. "Another pot," he says.
"Gotcha," Wei Ying says, marching on his way to boil his prize.
This is nice. Wei Ying boils mushrooms as Jiang Cheng checks to see if the water has drained. Lan Zhan fiddles with the bowls of ingredients.
It's pretty late, even for war. A few people are outside, talking, sharing stories about their lives before the war and the ones they'll come back to.
It's the same serenity of the quiet afternoons at the Library Pavilion—pages flipping, sleeves brushing against the table, swaying leaves of the magnolia trees—it's either fond or pathetic depending on who you ask.
"He's doing good," Jiang Cheng whispers to Wei Ying.
Lan Zhan is very visibly obsessing over the exact cut of the ginger, but yes, he is doing really well.
-
Lan Zhan, like the good student that he is, finishes the task before midnight. (It took four times as long as Shijie would do it, but who’s counting.) Jiang Cheng kisses him on the forehead as soon as he pours his first bowl, a well-earned reward for all the times Lan Zhan nearly cut a finger or two.
If Wei Ying had been standing any closer, he would’ve done the same.
But Wei Ying can’t.
He doesn’t know how long he’ll be able to avoid prolonged touch, but his mind is chaos and he’ll need to figure that out next time. Things worked out for him in the Burial Mounds, when he genuinely thought he wouldn’t see either of their faces again—how much worse can it be?
Jiang Cheng takes the first bowl and slides it to Wei Ying. His smile is exhausted, war-weary, but it is one of the rare moments Wei Ying thought he’d never be able to witness ever again.
“ Oh ,” Wei Ying gasps, as his trusty nose detects the sharp heat of a familiar spice.
Lan Zhan’s lips quirk and Jiang Cheng huffs. Jiang Cheng pats Lan Zhan’s shoulder, an unspoken “well done”, a gesture Wei Ying himself had done with Jiang Cheng a thousand times before. Lan Zhan bites his lips, turns around, and hides like an embarrassed maiden.
He hides the entire time he fills another bowl, sprinkling a few crushed peppers on top. When it’s stirred, the soup isn’t as dark as Wei Ying’s, but definitely redder than most people would have them.
“Do you want to taste it with us?” Wei Ying asks, grinning now. He is so touched he might actually faint.
Lan Zhan nods and serves himself a small portion of the mushroom-based lotus soup.
He looks both shy and proud of himself. He bites on his lower lip while his eyes are wide and excited. He looks like he’s made a breakthrough—finally getting that one Lan sword maneuver, getting answers from the right book, finding the right words to compliment Jiang Cheng—he is giddy and excited and so much like he'd been when they were all fifteen.
"Okay, okay!" Wei Ying rocks on his heels. "Ready?"
"It's not a race," Jiang Cheng says.
Wei Ying sticks his tongue out, counts, and tastes the soup.
His first reaction is oh wow, that's salty . The taste transforms for some odd reason, and then it's sweet. Then...a full blast of ginger.
It's spicy, woody, and really, really pungent . Wei Ying manages to swallow the bite without flinching, eyes wide in surprise, but he says nothing. His expression mustn't have given anything away, because Lan Zhan is looking at both of them like he's still waiting to see their reaction.
Wei Ying debates with himself, but can't come up with the best thing to say.
Should he say something? Suggest something? Give advice on how to do better?
"It's good," Jiang Cheng says, swallowing.
The ginger is so strong it probably hurts Jiang Cheng's nose, too. But Jiang Cheng smiles so appreciatively, so fond. It's a small, but sweet smile. He smiles like the time they learned Lan Zhan can't swim, watching Lan Zhan adorably paddling in the river while Jiang Cheng and Wei Ying had to stay with him the entire time.
And now they know Lan Zhan’s version of a soup is actually ginger tea. Wei Ying thinks that’s the most wholesome thing ever.
"Can I have the mushroom soup?" Wei Ying asks.
Lan Zhan meekly slides his bowl to Wei Ying.
He hums as he tastes it.
This one has no salt at all, but twice the strength of the sliced ginger. Wei Ying hates consuming ginger in high volumes; but for some reason, this one goes down easier.
Wei Ying tries to think about the actual flavor, but his eyes go to all the chopped ingredients, the mess of peeled lotuses, and the darkening bottoms of pots left too long.
He grins as he watches Lan Zhan shifting and fidgeting where he stands, terribly endeared, and unequivocally happy for something so mundane.
(He's as weak as Jiang Cheng, huh.)
When Lan Zhan looks down, Wei Ying sneaks a glance at Jiang Cheng, and they exchange a look.
Wei Ying kisses Lan Zhan on the cheek. "Great job, Er-gege."
He’ll worry about the unexpected touch later.
For now, they are happy. Here, in the dreary, cloudy nights of Qinghe, they feel like boys again.