Work Text:
A lukewarm cup of tea sat idly on Chu Wanning’s cluttered desk, the loose tea leaves floating at rest on the surface. Unfortunately, the man had long forgotten about his drink and was currently engrossed in tinkering with a small mechanism. A pink tongue peeked out from between his chapped lips, and his brow furrowed—an involuntary expression of concentration. His hands worked delicately, moving slowly as if too much pressure would make his hard work shatter in an instant.
Bright moonlight shone through the window, casting harsh shadows across the expanse of his unkempt bedroom. It was late, much too late for him to be working, and Chu Wanning knew this.
He stifled a yawn.
Generally speaking, Chu Wanning couldn’t really say his sleeping habits were something to be proud of, and it only got worse when he found something time consuming to hyperfixate on. Amongst the month or so that it took him to finish one of his mechanisms, he only slept when light made its way over the horizon, leading him to wake when the sun reached its peak (or when one of his worried disciples came searching for him).
During these months, his survival was inevitably put into the hands of Xue Meng and his bi-hourly checkups, who was usually accompanied with snacks or water and a demand to take a break. Even then, he still would work his ass off until he eventually grew tired and—finally—lay down to take a catnap.
With a huff, Chu Wanning set the small screw in his hand down and bent to rest his head atop the desk, cradling it in his arms. This left him in quite an uncomfortable position, especially while sitting cross legged on the floor, but the soft silk of his outer robes was cool against his cheek and the scenery outside his window surely was one to behold, so he didn't really mind.
Through a barrier of thin glass, the calming flow of those tall mountain waterfalls was audible, a nice ambience that was paired with the rolling steam among the pond’s vermillion lotuses. Though the view was breathtaking, the sight of those flowering lotuses could send any Sisheng Peak disciple running away with their tails tucked between their legs.
His eyelids suddenly felt very heavy.
A small red haitang petal drifted down from its branch, delicately curling into itself. It rocked gently in the wind before landing upon a large stone nestled deep in the dirt. Chu Wanning's thick eyelashes lowered, gaze set on that petal that was now being dragged against the rock’s rough surface by a strong breeze, and he suddenly thought to cradle it in his palm, to block it from the harsh treatment. The thought passed quicker than it came; he would get sick being out in such weather, what a silly idea. When the breeze eventually calmed and the petal fell out of sight, his eyes fell closed and his mind was subdued by a deep, serene sleep.
When Chu Wanning awoke he was no longer hunched over at his desk, rather he was now curled up in his bedsheets, head centimeters away from heeling towards the ground. Rubbing the first meaningful sleep he’s gotten in ages from his eyes, he immediately got up, fixed his robes, straightened his guan, and proceeded right towards his desk to finish the work he had left last night.
Unfortunately, before the chance to sit down even arose, his stomach growled intently with hunger. Chu Wanning paused. He stared down at the pieces of scrap metal sitting on his desk, and thought a long while before finally making up his mind. With the lingering haze of sleep and such a strong rebuttal from his neglected body, he concluded, perhaps, it couldn't hurt to see if Mengpo Hall would still be serving breakfast at this hour.