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Chapter Text

“Qingqing~!”

A-Qing glanced over to where her big brother stood with a picnic basket in his hand and a wide, far-too innocent grin on his face.

“No,” she said immediately, not quite knowing what she was refusing but certain that she was having nothing to do with it.

“Qingqing, you’re breaking your da-ge’s heart!” he gasped with mock despair as he brought the back of his free hand to his forehead. “I took such pains to prepare this delicious basket of food, just for you! My precious meimei!”

A-Qing gave a snort of disbelief and narrowed her eyes. “Who did you kill and what fake alibi am I supposed to back up?”

“Qingqing!”

“Fuck, it’s that asshole customer from last week who demanded to ‘speak to the manager’, isn’t it? That crazyass bitch claiming to be some famous influencer trying to eat for free in exchange for ‘exposure’.”

Yang-ge cocked his head to one side, as if contemplating her words and A-Qing instantly regretted giving her ridiculous brother ideas.

“Well, no, but that’s something to file away for later,” Yang-ge replied with a wider grin. “C’mon, Xingchen says we can leave early! He and Song Lan will handle closing.”

A-Qing sighed heavily. “I told him I was fine.”

“Mm, yeah, sure. Come on! Or I’ll eat your share of the crumble.”

A-Qing felt like a cat who had heard a can being opened. Betrayed! By her own stomach! She glanced at the picnic basket, up at her brother’s wide grin, and back at the basket, feeling her mouth starting to water.

“There’s crumble?” She asked with suspicion.

“Would I lie?”

“Yes.”

“Eh, true. But not this time! There’s Xingchen’s berry crumble and I made apple bunnies!”

A-Qing felt her suspicion turn to horror. “Did you accidentally kill Nacho?! I swear, if you’ve so much as plucked a feather from his-”

Yang-ge had the grace to look just as horrified as she felt. “What? No! Fuck, I like that stupid bird why would I-”

“I don’t know! But why else would you make fucking apple bunnies for me? The last time you made them for me without making me beg first was-”

A-Qing stopped mid-sentence. She didn’t continue speaking. She didn’t have to. The first and only time her menace of a brother had ever made her guilty pleasure treat without her pleading or him grumbling was just after their parents had died in a car accident.

The left side of the car had borne the brunt of the impact. She had been in her child seat at the right side of the backseat and thus unhurt. Yang-ge, on the other hand, had been sitting on the left side beside her, and although his seatbelt had prevented him from the worst of it, the sheer force of the impact had fractured the bones in his arm and forearm, and his left hand had ended up trapped in the mangled wreck. He’d lost his pinkie finger in that hand and while the rest of it was mostly okay, it nonetheless still bore the indelible scars from numerous reconstructive surgeries to restore function to his remaining fingers.

“Well, anyway,” she muttered when he remained silent, “I guess I could eat.”

Yang-ge rolled his eyes but held the door open for her.

The nearby park was full of people enjoying the pleasant spring weather, the majority of them being families with children. A-Qing watched them with a pang in her heart as Yang-ge laid out the basket’s content.

She’d been barely four years old at the time of the accident. She didn’t recall much of her parents beyond that they’d loved her very much. Most of what she knew about them came from Yang-ge, who’d been nine years old.

Their loss had hit him incredibly hard and he hated talking about anything relating to them or the accident. At least with strangers. Any time A-Qing asked about their parents, about what happened that day, Yang-ge would answer, but she could tell it hurt him to remember, to speak about it, even to her.

She tried not to ask too often.

“Making your da-ge do all the work when you didn’t contribute a thing to this picnic! I’m being taken advantage of! I’m so hurt!”

A-Qing rolled her eyes at her brother’s dramatics. “It’s not like I even asked you to do this,” she grumbled. “Why should I have to help?”

“Ungrateful brat!”

“Asshole bully!”

“Bully? I’ll show you a bully!” Yang-ge set the sealed tupperware down on the mat and lunged at her, eyes gleaming with menace and wide grin displaying his ridiculously-pointy eye teeth. Before she could do anything to avoid him, he’d tackled her and managed to get her in some kind of wrestling lock position.

And then he tickled her.

She kicked and wriggled and swatted him, cursing at him with gasping breaths between her helpless giggles. “You’re the worst!” she shrieked. “You fucker!”

“You’re lucky Xingchen isn’t here to scold you about your language,” Yang-ge cackled.

“Xiao-gege doesn’t scold,” she snorted breathlessly.

“Yeah, he just gives you that look. The one that says he’s not angry, he’s just disappointed, which is honestly worse than getting yelled at.”

Yang-ge had paused in his torture to speak, and A-Qing used the temporary distraction to elbow her way out of his hold.

“In the ribs, Qingqing? Your fucking elbow is pointier than a dagger! Just fucking stab me next time why don’t you?” Yang-ge groused with feigned grumpiness as he rubbed his ribs.

“Would you prefer in the groin instead?”

“Hah! Try that if you never want a peaceful night’s sleep ever again!”

A-Qing had a retort at the tip of her tongue but at Yang-ge’s next words, it died in her mouth unspoken.

“With an attitude like that, you’ll never find a guy.”

Her answering silence was odd enough that Yang-ge looked up from the assortment of cutlery in his hands.

“Qingqing?”

A-Qing looked down wordlessly at her hands, studying the shape and texture of her fingernails as if they held the answers to the mysteries of the universe.

She heard the quiet clatter as Yang-ge set the cutlery down and then he said, “Is this about a guy? Are you… Is there someone you, uh, like? Or something?” The sheer discomfort and awkwardness in his voice made the corners of her lips quirk even as her stomach swirled with apprehension.

Yang-ge sighed and shuffled closer. “Xingchen said something’s been bothering you. Asked me to ferret it out of you because you wouldn’t talk to him about it.” Because you talk to him about everything else, he didn’t say.

“I knew it,” A-Qing muttered.

“He’s nosy but he means well,” Yang-ge remarked easily.

She made a noise of assent but didn’t say anything else and after a brief moment of silence, Yang-ge huffed and laid out the remaining contents of the picnic basket.

The apple bunnies were in a round container, swimming in a bath of slightly salted water to keep them from going brown. The promised berry crumble sat in a pair of individual ramekins, likely Xiao-gege’s attempt at preventing food theft or unequal sharing from occurring.

Joke’s on him, A-Qing thought, because she was going to make every attempt to filch at least one spoonful of Yang-ge’s portion anyway. The dessert was so moreish despite how simple it seemed. The crumble topping could totally be eaten on its own like candy cereal and A-Qing was not ashamed to admit that she’d done just that when she’d once found an extra bowl of pre-baked topping left unattended in the kitchen.

She’d often wondered if there was some kind of addictive drug hidden inside it. Like a culinary version of ‘Breaking Bad’. Baking Bad, maybe.

“So, is there, y’know, someone?” Yang-ge asked, jolting her from her thoughts.

A-Qing knew that once her brother latched on to something, he was unlikely to let it go until the issue was addressed to his satisfaction. She toyed with a spoon, twiddling it between her fingers. “I don’t know,” she mumbled. “What if there is?”

“Well,” Yang-ge replied, passing her an empty plate. “It depends on whether he’s done anything yet that I need to murder him for, or if your da-ge just needs to… meet him for a nice, friendly chat.”

Normally, a comment like that would have had A-Qing smacking him in the arm or leg, or giving him a light punch to the shoulder. This time, all she did was continue to fiddle with her makeshift fidget toy.

“Qingqing,” he sighed. “C’mon, you know I… I hate heartfelt shit like this. I’m no good at it.” Unlike Xingchen. “But I’m trying.”

“What if…” She bit her lip and stared at the spoon, like she was trying to bend it with her mind like in that movie. Like if she convinced herself that there was no spoon discussion, it would melt away and disappear.

Yang-ge was the kind of person to find an opening — any opening — and use it to his advantage. A-Qing expected him to nag and wheedle and needle her to continue. Instead, to her surprise, he simply waited for her, killing time instead by arranging the plates and cups and food on the picnic mat.

“What if it’s not a guy?” A-Qing whispered.

“Well,” Yang-ge repeated after a slight pause. “I’m all for equality and shit, but I don’t think it’d go well if I whacked a girl or gave her the same kind of shovel talk I’d have with a guy.” Then his eyes narrowed. “Do I need to go whack someone? Because I will, you know, even if it is a girl-”

“Ge,” she replied with exasperation, even as her tense body slumped with silent relief. “Please don’t go looking for assault charges.”

“Hey, if anyone deserves the assaulting, I’m game to face the charges-”

“She’s nice, okay? And she has two brothers who are just as punch-happy as you are, so you’d be outnumbered if you tried. NotthatIwantyoutotrythatwasnotaninvitationorasuggestion,” A-Qing hastily added.

“I’ve faced worse odds,” he remarked nonchalantly.

“Can you not, though.”

“Well,” Yang-ge said yet again, “I suppose if she’s actually nice and not a bitch or anyth-”

“Ge, can you please not call the girl I like a bitch.”

He rolled his eyes. “Turning into fucking Xingchen,” she heard him mutter under his breath. “Fine, fine. What is the name of this nice and unbitchy paragon of ladylike virtue?”

A-Qing resisted the urge to stab him with her spoon. “Jiang Yanli,” she said quietly, the name making her mouth curve.

“You’re getting with CEO Jiang’s daughter?!” Yang-ge all but screeched.

“What, don’t think your meimei is good enough for her?” A-Qing retorted, slightly stunning by the incredulity in her brother’s voice. “Anyway, Yanli-jie doesn’t care about things like that. She isn’t some rich dude’s snobby daughter,” she replied with a glare. “She’s kind! And caring! And compassionate. She volunteers at orphanages and after-school programmes. One of her brothers, he’s an adopted kid. So she… She understands, you know?”

He held up his hands in surrender. “Fine, I promise not to besmirch the saintly Jiang-guniang’s name and honour.”

“Now you’re just making fun of her,” A-Qing said sulkily.

“Fuck, Qingqing, I can’t swear at her and I can’t praise her, the fuck am I supposed to say?”

She picked up one dripping apple bunny and shoved it in his mouth. “Don’t say shit, then.”

Yang-ge bit the apple with a sharp ‘crunch’ and waggled the remaining half at her. “Rude,” he said with a huff. “You totally don’t deserve the fruits of my labour. Not these, and certainly not this!” He whipped out the large tupperware and he held it aloft like a trophy, or Baby Simba.

Her eyes widened when Yang-ge peeled the lid off the container to reveal a daintily decorated ba bao fan. He made one every year because their mother used to make it to celebrate the lunar new year, except that he hadn’t made one this year. He’d been away on a student exchange thing. And while A-Qing had very much missed their annual tradition, she hadn’t said anything about it. It wasn’t like he’d chosen to be away for the new year — the dates of his exchange trip had been selected by the programme coordinator.

The assortment of colourful ingredients had been carefully and artfully arranged. It was her brother’s guilty pleasure (one he would vehemently deny) to come up with a new design crafted from the various ‘treasures’ that comprised the glutinous rice pudding’s ingredients. She swallowed the lump that rose in her throat when she made out this year’s design: her name, 箐, picked out in candied orange peel, amidst a melange of other dried fruit and seeds and nuts.

“The new year’s over,” A-Qing said quietly, eyes fixed on the pretty glutinous rice pudding inside the container.

Yang-ge scratched the back of his neck. “Better late than never, right? Anyway, I already made the damn thing, so you’d better fucking eat it.”

“You’re such an asshole,” she replied, voice thick, even as she reached for the pudding. He shoved a wide serving spoon at her and nudged the jars of syrup and condensed milk closer while she scooped out a portion of ba bao fan. As she dressed her pudding, Yang-ge scooped out his own serving, and then drowned it with enough of the sweet condiments to make A-Qing’s teeth ache.

He raised a bite of ba bao fan and waited for her to do the same, and then clinked their sticky spoons together.

“Happy new year, brat.”

“Happy new year, asshole.”

A-Qing was chewing her bite of ba bao fan, happy warmth blooming in her stomach, when Yang-ge suddenly said, “So when do I get to meet your girlfriend?”

“Ge!”

Chapter Text

Easy Berry Crumble

Ingredients:

2 1/2 cups raspberries

1 tbsp cornstarch (heaping)

2/3 cups sugar

1 tsp vanilla extract

1 cup all-purpose flour

1/4 cup sugar

1/4 cup brown sugar

1/3 cup oats

1/4 cups pecans (chopped)

1 dash of salt

3/4 sticks butter (cut into small pieces)

Ice cream/whipped cream for serving

Method:

Preheat oven to 180°C.

In a medium bowl, combine raspberries, cornstarch, 2/3 cups sugar, and vanilla. Stir and set aside.

In a separate bowl/food processor, combine flour, 1/4 cup sugar and brown sugar, oats, pecans, salt and butter. Cut together/pulse in food processor until mixture resembles coarse crumbs.

Add berry mixture to a small baking dish/pan, sprinkle topping over top.

Bake for 25-30 mins or until golden brown. Allow to sit for 10mins before serving. Scoop out with spoon and top with ice cream/cream.