this changes everything. ⟲ wangxian

23. Never Gets Old

Ah Cheng curses foully. The sound rings like a guttural war horn through the thick blue sky that reigns high above Lotus Pier. A few moments later, a flock of birds scatter into a soar of flight. Ah Cheng's voice is still ringing.

Wei Wuxian is laughing so hard he nearly stumbles and falls completely on his butt. He narrowly misses slamming a drunken hand into the steaming pot of half-made Lotus Rib soup, which sits like a beacon in the middle of the kitchen.

Ah Cheng staggers away from the pot and collapses onto his front, his expression screwed in pain.

"Ow.. ow, ow... f*ck!" He clutches his hand to his chest like it's a fragile dove with a broken wing.

Across the kitchen, Ah Xian is still laughing.

Ah Cheng whimpers to himself for a short moment, before whirling around to scowl at Ah Xian, "You think this is funny? F*cking bastard. I nearly died!"

"Oh, for crying out loud, no you didn't!" Ah Xian says, his laughs relaxing into an entertained, delighted grin. "You're exaggerating, brother. Honestly, you're such a chicken and a drama queen sometimes, I can hardly believe we're related. Oh... wait... we're not."

Ah Xian immediately cracks up at his own joke, before whirling around and dashing to the other side of the kitchen, grabbing handfuls of ingredients from different cannisters and busily making for the pot. Ah Cheng has scrambled to his feet, eyes blazing daggers.

"Why, you—" He races after Ah Xian, hand hoisted in the air as if he were going to hit him.

"The soup, brother, focus on the soup!"

"I'll have your head in it if you say another word, you fat scoundrel!" Ah Cheng fumes. He reties his apron which had been coming loose and stirs the pot; as though he were stirring away his troubles. He mutters to himself, "How dare you disrespect the Yunmeng Jiang Clan Leader? Disgrace."

"Alright, first of all—" Ah Xian drops a pinch of mint spices into the soup. "—did you just call me fat? Wow."

Ah Cheng turns and begins to picking sachets of ingredients of a row of spice and herb pots.

"That's no way to treat your dearly beloved, oh-so-long lost brother, now, is it?"

"You can cross out that dearly beloved. Fattie."

"Oh brother, you break my heart. I travelled all this way to see you," a cheeky grin toys on Ah Xian's lips as he dices another limb of the lotus flower on the chopping board. He adds it to the soup. "I mean, when else would I have the opportunity to see the great Jiang Cheng behind a cauldron?"

"Shut up," Ah Cheng barks. He's flustered under that adorable lil' bubbling temper. "For crying out loud, I can't believe I agreed to this. This is your fault, brother."

"You're right. It is my fault," Ah Xian admits solemnly. Then, out of nowhere, he throws his brother a devilish smirk. "I shouldn't have asked you to help me cook this. If you weren't such a halfwit in the kitchen, we might actually be preparing something edible!"

"You—" Ah Cheng tosses the stirring spoon out of sight.

Ah Xian leaps over the table, laughing.

"Now we'll be eating food poisoning, thanks! My God, what would Yanli have said if she'd seen this?"

"Don't pin this all on me—y-you're the one who pushed me and made me chuck in all that garlic!"

"I don't know what you're talking about!"

"WEI WUXIAN, YOU BASTARD, YOU GET OVER HERE RIGHT THIS INSTANT!"