( sounding mildly surprised, though not so much that contextually, yes, while that degree of drunk gathering whatever social capital he'd needed, he was barely aware of how to functionally do anything other than escape and try to sleep, knowing him.
For the flowers, however, a nod and a smile. Something for Wei Wuxian to remember. )
These are a mix of native flowers and imported roses... wonder if we'll see any there!
Hahaha, Lan Zhan, if I was that drunk, then I was not entertaining.
( It's as close to calling out being a burden as he comes without being worn down enough or a different kind of drunk, but he waves that off, picking their way forward when it comes time to veering into a courtyard that leads out to the rest of the park, and the flower gardens within. )
Lotuses, I guess.
( For many reasons, he supposes, and how they'd tied to his better memories with Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli, and for nothing else to hold onto, but the way that they all rose out of the mud together. )
Never thought hard on it, but they're a very useful flower! Pretty too.
I'm not with you because you're entertaining, Wei Ying.
[One might, in fact, argue that it is in spite of that aspect that he is attracted to Wei Ying, precisely because he sees past some of that bluster and he still likes what's under there. And it took him time to understand why Wei Ying seemed to have this constant need to be seen, while in the same breath hiding quite a lot behind that bright smile and easygoing attitude of his.
The answer for his favorite flower is.. sort of unsurprising. It's certainly very Wei Ying.]
( it's consistent enough as a standard in his life that it's not something he inherently trusts, that he can be anything less than vibrant, entertaining, anything that translates to not a burden -- and it doesn't disappear, is the time where he's clung close and wondered when he'd find lan zhan's bottom line, where patience will give way to anything else. there is none, none he's found or sees, but the tolerance is what it has felt like; and he sinks into it slowly, gregarious and outgoing as he is, because his heart feels enough, he's picked himself up again often enough, he expects things to hurt.
stranger, to have them not. stranger to not find waiting the caveat that means he's failed again, tripped up, proven he's too good or not good enough and both are damning, to some extent.
he swallows, and links his arm through lan zhan's, stepping them merrily along the path, the narrow entrance to the gardens leading them through tall framed buildings, hedges and annuals planted alongside the path, and then that moment: they're through.
trellis overhead of sweet peas or something that looks close enough to them, and beyond, the rows of roses, bright and beautiful and thorned. )
What can I say, lotuses are an all time favourite. Look, Lan Zhan! How many rows do they have of roses! They come in orange?
[It's easy enough to see Wei Ying not knowing what to do with that declaration, and covering it with a pirouette, and then distracting with the flowers they came to see. Maybe he'll keep thinking about it, behind his enjoyment of the parl. Or maybe he'll put it out of his mind entirely, and if Wangji brings it back up he'll have forgotten.
It's one thing that's both sad and puzzling, sometimes, how Wei Ying forgets certain things. because they are too embarrassing, too raw, too painful... There is a reason for it, of course, but still...
Wangji tends to not forget anything, but he also isn't here to drag the mood down.]
There's roses in almost every color. Although I think the blue and black ones are dyed, not cultivated like this.
( for the most part, he forgets what he doesn't want to remember. sides it back to the recesses of his mind, where it lives if it's important enough, but he doesn't linger. why?
he'd rather breathe in the light than think too hard on what lies in the shadows. )
Ooh, do you hear that? I think there's a fountain in here! Or a creek, something trickling.
( it's easy, the lines of his body as he moves forward, the laughter in his eyes. he knows some middling amount about plants, yes, and their cultivation, in the distracted way he took in much more information than he needed and promptly forgot half of it, suiting his interests; wei wuxian has always striven to understand before turning around and flaunting all he knew.
there are ironies in his delving into engineering, paired with the artist that he is as well, but if it weren't for the cleaving of those two sides, he would not be the man he is. if he isn't sure, at times, what that man consists of, in the eyes of others. not beyond a certain potential profitability, and the reason he had called lan zhan those nights for a ride away from meetings with people who believed in unspoken rules and dark reaches that had nothing to do with profitability and everything to do with presumptive gains.
wei wuxian did not bend for them, and never would. his dance with the edge of those politics was always to whirlwind himself out of them fast enough they couldn't quite catch on, and he whirlwinds now, catching at lan zhan's hands and encouraging him faster, through the ordered rows of roses, until they stride or dash or break through the final row, and they find themselves at the centre. indeed, something akin to a fountain, a rectangular reflecting pool with the hint of fat, lazy koi swimming through its waters. lotus pads spread over the pond's surface, breaking up the perfect replica of the skies and flowers as seen from this indirect angle, reflected back up at them. at the far end of the pool, a waterfall features built of stones and trickling down, small pool to small pool, before it joined the main rectangle, so much larger than it was. the whole framed in wood in a way that echoed wooden raised beds for flowers and food and whatever else was held in raised beds, when the soil beneath wouldn't accept a bounty, would not allow for growth.
no perfect park, or garden, but one tended to with the ambition of love and care, and yes, the benches. there are two, stone and wood, simple affairs. toward one of them, overhung by roses of a smaller face, trained into vines that loop overhead in a riot of tangles and blossoms and only the scent of greenery, heady and alive. no perfume, not from these blossoms. )
Sit, sit! Look, this is nice, isn't it? Not a formal effort when it started, that's what I was told, but it's what the people here have poured themselves into, having something to cultivate. Even if its roses, and a pond of fat, greedy fish, they don't have to be anything more than beautiful, to eyes that want to seem them as beautiful. Simple, right?
( or not so simple at all, but simple in enjoyment, if they allow it to be. )
[It's nice to see Wei Ying be relaxed and laugh, and he follows readily when his hands are caught and pulled, until they reach the pool and the benches.]
Hm.
[A soft sound of agreement because yes, one can feel the love and care and genuine pleasure people have taken arranging this garden.]
How did you find out about it?
[Probably just by being his bright, sunny self, really. Wei Ying is so easily gregarious, striking easy conversations with anyone in ways that seem so alien to Wangji... he'll never have that easy manner with strangers himself.]
[As usual, it takes a few seconds for Wangji's brain to reorganize things so they make a semblance of sense. They always do, once you've given it enough time, even if Wei Ying doesn't give the information in an order that makes sense.
He probably would like fruit from a street stand, too. It's usually better than the supermarket.]
Are you going to go back there? Even if you don't live there anymore?
( he asks this guilelessly and with a blink of his eyes, canting his head as he looks sideways at Lan Zhan, still holding his hand, only letting it rest on his thigh now. )
I've explored the stores and markets near where I am now, too, of course I have. Still doesn't have fruit quite as good as that auntie's!
Hm. I don't think Fei Du does his own shopping so he probably can't tell you about anything like that in your current area anyway.
[Wangji has his own habits around his apartment, of course, but Fei Du's building is in a much more posh part of town. The Lans are not poor by any means, but the Fei conglomerate still puts their net value to shame.]
( to sharing, and a brilliant smile and laugh that follows, before
it tapers off, and he leans shoulder to shoulder with Lan Zhan, foot
tapping a slow sort of consideration against the ground. he's thinking,
which is not his favourite of things to do, but he holds on to his thoughts
and sorts through them little by little. lan zhan gives him the time. he
still feels a pressure there, but he can at least admit it's from himself,
and not his partner. )
I think I want to share the things like this with you.
( hesitantly stated, because it follows: )
They're not all as... nice as this? All of them are free, and I don't know
if that's going to be... annoying. Less than anything you're interested in.
Too...
( low brow, peasant, pedestrian. if it's too among the people for
lan zhan to bear, when he's a private man who dislikes crowds and, well,
dirt. as far as wei wuxian can tell, he mostly is incredibly permissive of
handling it with his self as the exception, but not enjoying it. )
[Always with the fretting, with that odd anxiety that he might be annoying or too much, and Wangji doesn't know what he can do to quiet that down.]
Whatever you want to share, it's fine. I can't promise I'll like everything, but I can promise to try.
[They do have different tastes, different ways to socialize, but... compromise? Wangji can endure a crowd for a little while if it makes Wei Ying happy.]
( he's testing boundaries, but baldly, because he's finding he
doesn't want to find one without having asked. imagines it cutting deeper
than he lets most things, and so he smiles, because he believes lan zhan,
even while he doesn't trust himself. )
Oh, yes, that would be nice, but Lan Zhan...
( and he leans in, draws lan zhan closer with a pull on their joined
hands, peers through his lashes in a silly flirtation, smiles
mischievously. )
( he could explain, but that'll naturally follow when he smiles,
gives up on the pretense of playing anything close to coy, and simply turns
to kiss lan zhan far more than is considered polite on television.
after: )
Though I'm happy to actually eat, too, that's more what I had in mind.
[... Okay yes, that's a nice kiss, even though they are sort of in public and Wangji is not super big on PDA - although as always, where Wei Ying is concerned, pretty much anything goes.
[Oh. Well, alright then. That makes more sense now. Wangji gives a little nod as if to himself.]
Alright, then where do you want to eat?
[He... honestly doesn't eat out that often, usually with his uncle and brother, and while he loves the food at the restaurants they go to, the atmosphere would probably be a bit stifling for Wei Ying.]
If where you're thinking of has vegetarian options, that's fine.
[It's a simple dish, and honestly most food stalls and small restaurants have a better chance of making it actually taste good than any of the high end places Wangji knows.]
Even the broth does, you're in luck! Though how does that work, Lan Zhan, do you ever drink broths with possible meat bases, like the fish kind? Fish paste can sneak its way into so many things, and then there's pork! Or chicken, for some soups.
( he clucks his tongue, but he means the ones for their broth, and not the content of any meat worth chewing. )
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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( sounding mildly surprised, though not so much that contextually, yes, while that degree of drunk gathering whatever social capital he'd needed, he was barely aware of how to functionally do anything other than escape and try to sleep, knowing him.
For the flowers, however, a nod and a smile. Something for Wei Wuxian to remember. )
These are a mix of native flowers and imported roses... wonder if we'll see any there!
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Wangji does remember every single one of them, though.]
... I don't know what you mean by 'worst'.
[It was just you, Wei Ying. And he's always taken in all the aspects of you.]
You never told me about your favorite flowers either.
no subject
( It's as close to calling out being a burden as he comes without being worn down enough or a different kind of drunk, but he waves that off, picking their way forward when it comes time to veering into a courtyard that leads out to the rest of the park, and the flower gardens within. )
Lotuses, I guess.
( For many reasons, he supposes, and how they'd tied to his better memories with Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli, and for nothing else to hold onto, but the way that they all rose out of the mud together. )
Never thought hard on it, but they're a very useful flower! Pretty too.
no subject
[One might, in fact, argue that it is in spite of that aspect that he is attracted to Wei Ying, precisely because he sees past some of that bluster and he still likes what's under there. And it took him time to understand why Wei Ying seemed to have this constant need to be seen, while in the same breath hiding quite a lot behind that bright smile and easygoing attitude of his.
The answer for his favorite flower is.. sort of unsurprising. It's certainly very Wei Ying.]
You like lotus root soup and lotus seeds, too.
no subject
( it's consistent enough as a standard in his life that it's not something he inherently trusts, that he can be anything less than vibrant, entertaining, anything that translates to not a burden -- and it doesn't disappear, is the time where he's clung close and wondered when he'd find lan zhan's bottom line, where patience will give way to anything else. there is none, none he's found or sees, but the tolerance is what it has felt like; and he sinks into it slowly, gregarious and outgoing as he is, because his heart feels enough, he's picked himself up again often enough, he expects things to hurt.
stranger, to have them not. stranger to not find waiting the caveat that means he's failed again, tripped up, proven he's too good or not good enough and both are damning, to some extent.
he swallows, and links his arm through lan zhan's, stepping them merrily along the path, the narrow entrance to the gardens leading them through tall framed buildings, hedges and annuals planted alongside the path, and then that moment: they're through.
trellis overhead of sweet peas or something that looks close enough to them, and beyond, the rows of roses, bright and beautiful and thorned. )
What can I say, lotuses are an all time favourite. Look, Lan Zhan! How many rows do they have of roses! They come in orange?
no subject
It's one thing that's both sad and puzzling, sometimes, how Wei Ying forgets certain things. because they are too embarrassing, too raw, too painful... There is a reason for it, of course, but still...
Wangji tends to not forget anything, but he also isn't here to drag the mood down.]
There's roses in almost every color. Although I think the blue and black ones are dyed, not cultivated like this.
no subject
( for the most part, he forgets what he doesn't want to remember. sides it back to the recesses of his mind, where it lives if it's important enough, but he doesn't linger. why?
he'd rather breathe in the light than think too hard on what lies in the shadows. )
Ooh, do you hear that? I think there's a fountain in here! Or a creek, something trickling.
no subject
[He knows a little bit about botany, since he has plants in his apartment, but he's never cultivated roses himself, or tried to change their colors.]
Hydrangea can turn naturally blue depending on the soil they are in, but I don't remember why exactly. Something to do with aluminum.
[But of course, trust Wei Ying to find water anywhere.]
Hm. They probably have a stream of some sort for irrigation.
no subject
( it's easy, the lines of his body as he moves forward, the laughter in his eyes. he knows some middling amount about plants, yes, and their cultivation, in the distracted way he took in much more information than he needed and promptly forgot half of it, suiting his interests; wei wuxian has always striven to understand before turning around and flaunting all he knew.
there are ironies in his delving into engineering, paired with the artist that he is as well, but if it weren't for the cleaving of those two sides, he would not be the man he is. if he isn't sure, at times, what that man consists of, in the eyes of others. not beyond a certain potential profitability, and the reason he had called lan zhan those nights for a ride away from meetings with people who believed in unspoken rules and dark reaches that had nothing to do with profitability and everything to do with presumptive gains.
wei wuxian did not bend for them, and never would. his dance with the edge of those politics was always to whirlwind himself out of them fast enough they couldn't quite catch on, and he whirlwinds now, catching at lan zhan's hands and encouraging him faster, through the ordered rows of roses, until they stride or dash or break through the final row, and they find themselves at the centre. indeed, something akin to a fountain, a rectangular reflecting pool with the hint of fat, lazy koi swimming through its waters. lotus pads spread over the pond's surface, breaking up the perfect replica of the skies and flowers as seen from this indirect angle, reflected back up at them. at the far end of the pool, a waterfall features built of stones and trickling down, small pool to small pool, before it joined the main rectangle, so much larger than it was. the whole framed in wood in a way that echoed wooden raised beds for flowers and food and whatever else was held in raised beds, when the soil beneath wouldn't accept a bounty, would not allow for growth.
no perfect park, or garden, but one tended to with the ambition of love and care, and yes, the benches. there are two, stone and wood, simple affairs. toward one of them, overhung by roses of a smaller face, trained into vines that loop overhead in a riot of tangles and blossoms and only the scent of greenery, heady and alive. no perfume, not from these blossoms. )
Sit, sit! Look, this is nice, isn't it? Not a formal effort when it started, that's what I was told, but it's what the people here have poured themselves into, having something to cultivate. Even if its roses, and a pond of fat, greedy fish, they don't have to be anything more than beautiful, to eyes that want to seem them as beautiful. Simple, right?
( or not so simple at all, but simple in enjoyment, if they allow it to be. )
no subject
Hm.
[A soft sound of agreement because yes, one can feel the love and care and genuine pleasure people have taken arranging this garden.]
How did you find out about it?
[Probably just by being his bright, sunny self, really. Wei Ying is so easily gregarious, striking easy conversations with anyone in ways that seem so alien to Wangji... he'll never have that easy manner with strangers himself.]
no subject
( he waves a hand, as if it's a web that's not complicated but also not terribly important to him. both things are indeed true. )
I'm happy to introduce you—you'd like the stand, at least.
no subject
He probably would like fruit from a street stand, too. It's usually better than the supermarket.]
Are you going to go back there? Even if you don't live there anymore?
no subject
( he asks this guilelessly and with a blink of his eyes, canting his head as he looks sideways at Lan Zhan, still holding his hand, only letting it rest on his thigh now. )
I've explored the stores and markets near where I am now, too, of course I have. Still doesn't have fruit quite as good as that auntie's!
no subject
Hm. I don't think Fei Du does his own shopping so he probably can't tell you about anything like that in your current area anyway.
[Wangji has his own habits around his apartment, of course, but Fei Du's building is in a much more posh part of town. The Lans are not poor by any means, but the Fei conglomerate still puts their net value to shame.]
Thank you for showing me this place.
no subject
Of course!
( to sharing, and a brilliant smile and laugh that follows, before it tapers off, and he leans shoulder to shoulder with Lan Zhan, foot tapping a slow sort of consideration against the ground. he's thinking, which is not his favourite of things to do, but he holds on to his thoughts and sorts through them little by little. lan zhan gives him the time. he still feels a pressure there, but he can at least admit it's from himself, and not his partner. )
I think I want to share the things like this with you.
( hesitantly stated, because it follows: )
They're not all as... nice as this? All of them are free, and I don't know if that's going to be... annoying. Less than anything you're interested in. Too...
( low brow, peasant, pedestrian. if it's too among the people for lan zhan to bear, when he's a private man who dislikes crowds and, well, dirt. as far as wei wuxian can tell, he mostly is incredibly permissive of handling it with his self as the exception, but not enjoying it. )
no subject
[Always with the fretting, with that odd anxiety that he might be annoying or too much, and Wangji doesn't know what he can do to quiet that down.]
Whatever you want to share, it's fine. I can't promise I'll like everything, but I can promise to try.
[They do have different tastes, different ways to socialize, but... compromise? Wangji can endure a crowd for a little while if it makes Wei Ying happy.]
Do you want to eat outside tonight?
no subject
( he's testing boundaries, but baldly, because he's finding he doesn't want to find one without having asked. imagines it cutting deeper than he lets most things, and so he smiles, because he believes lan zhan, even while he doesn't trust himself. )
Oh, yes, that would be nice, but Lan Zhan...
( and he leans in, draws lan zhan closer with a pull on their joined hands, peers through his lashes in a silly flirtation, smiles mischievously. )
Can we have a small meal here, too?
no subject
... Is there anywhere to eat around here? I didn't really see anything on the way in.
[Maybe he just missed it and Wei Ying knows a hidden spot where they can buy food.]
no subject
( he could explain, but that'll naturally follow when he smiles, gives up on the pretense of playing anything close to coy, and simply turns to kiss lan zhan far more than is considered polite on television. after: )
Though I'm happy to actually eat, too, that's more what I had in mind.
no subject
But...]
... So are you actually hungry or not?
[Please dispel this confusion first.]
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...
( he grins and chuckles, being honest: )
Yeah, but I was also using innuendo. Two kinds of meals for two kinds of appetites, ah?
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Alright, then where do you want to eat?
[He... honestly doesn't eat out that often, usually with his uncle and brother, and while he loves the food at the restaurants they go to, the atmosphere would probably be a bit stifling for Wei Ying.]
no subject
( he laughs, since it's again an immediate return to the same joke, but he does lean forward to press a quick, firm kiss to Lan Zhan's lips. )
But for stomach filling reasons, what are your thoughts on noodles?
no subject
[It's a simple dish, and honestly most food stalls and small restaurants have a better chance of making it actually taste good than any of the high end places Wangji knows.]
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( he clucks his tongue, but he means the ones for their broth, and not the content of any meat worth chewing. )
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