( 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. )
Most times, it's not an issue. Most places have vegetable broth.
[He eats out infrequently enough that its' easy to call the restaurant and ask, or look up the menu online, usually.]
If there's no other option and someone was inviting me, I wouldn't mind having chicken or fish broth. No need to make it difficult for people. But in most cases, I prefer not to.
[The truth is, it's not even about not liking it, because he's had meat and chicken and fish before, and he's cooked it for Wei Ying too, but he was raised eating mostly vegetarian food so that's where his preference goes.]
( he listens, and nods, and one can guess (perhaps, and Lan Zhan's better at guessing this than most) it means going forward, there will always be vegetable broth options where they go. because he's not necessarily overt in how he cares, but he maneuvers situations to be better for those he cares for, those he loves, and if there's a loss to eat, he'll eat it.
he just doesn't think it's a loss at all, really. there's more than enough ways and times to indulge what he likes without it being at the expense, and rather at his persistent request, of those he loves. )
Mm, yes, you wouldn't appreciate the public transit way over, even if it gives plenty of excellent reading time. Still, this is nice, right?
( leaning shoulder to shoulder, under the shade of the roses on the trellis, before that reflecting pool and the koi or carp-enough creatures mouthing the surface, forever hopeful of food falling from the heavens into their stomachs, waiting and never, ever full. )
[Of course he'll notice after a few times. He's basically been doing the same for almost two years when it comes to feeding Wei Ying or making sure he is comfortable, so it might take a little while, but he'll notice. Wei Ying might think he's sly and fooling other people, but Wangji has spent so much time watching him, very little does escape his notice.]
It's a nice place. Thank you for showing it to me.
[Places that are important to Wei Ying matter to him too.
He'll lead the way to the car again, and then wait for directions.]
( Said after a hesitation, and softer, because he isn't sure if it isn't also him being pandered to; and on that level, not sure if he likes it or doesn't like it or, ah. Does it matter?
He does like this. Sitting shoulder to shoulder, and not worried in the same ways as he can be sometimes with thoughts of, when will this end. It's tentative, still, but he's leaning into a belief that when that time comes is far enough away to not... worry about it. Gerd for it.
As it is, he gives the directions to the noodle shop, and more importantly, to alleyway parking nearby, instead of contending with double parking roads and the like. What it means is a street with a side where people trail by in both directions, where cars are close but not deadly nuisances, and the sounds of traffic are more distant by the heavier traveled roads, a sort of susurration of urban reality in the background. Lanterns and lights on buildings and lamps over the street and strings of lights illuminate until they're there, and it being still daylight, most of what hangs overhead is dim to unremarkable. The sign for the noodle place is bright, red on white on gold, with a group of elder folks leaving with loud calls and waving hands and sour faces that are as affected as the grumpiness is, perhaps, true.
Inside they go, Wei Wuxian cheerful calls to the darting folks, a shout to the couple who run the stand, back in their kitchen again in that moment, all the back and forth of friendliness that comes in the guise of garrulous natures and prodigal sons (if prodigal sons came to lunch), and then:
An Auntie. One who takes two looks at them both, wiping her hands with a towel, and nods her head authoritatively. A word from Wei Wuxian, vegetarian, and still she announces: You will be fed. And they, to take seats at the counter, awaiting a meal. )
Auntie makes sure everyone eats well when they're here, flex a muscle or two, let her know you're misleadingly thin! Before she breaks out the desserts... though you'd maybe like those, so hm.
( he grins, and winks, and slides a teacup over while waiting on their tea to finish steeping. )
[It's becoming a whole thing, Wangji following Wei Ying anywhere he wants to go. It's happened before a few times, but never so much at one time.
This is certainly not a part of town where he would have gone on his own. He dislikes bustle at most times. But being there with Wei Ying, because it's place Wei Ying wants to share, makes it different. He'll probably still be tired afterwards, need some time to regroup, but it's fine, still.
Still, even his neighborhood has aunties, because what neighborhood doesn't. And they know him because he helps them carry their shopping. And of course, in true auntie fashion, they try to feed him too. He still remembers that he had to explain to one what vegetarian means and yes, that means, no pork or beef, no, not even chicken, and she was horrified at first but took it in stride.
He catches the teacup, his gaze wandering around the place, trying to take in everything that is so different from what he is used to and always coming to that one, familiar thing, Wei Ying.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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( 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.
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[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.
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( 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. )
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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.]
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( 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.
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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?
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( 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.
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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. )
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[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?
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( 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?
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... 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.]
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( 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.
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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.]
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( 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?
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[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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[He eats out infrequently enough that its' easy to call the restaurant and ask, or look up the menu online, usually.]
If there's no other option and someone was inviting me, I wouldn't mind having chicken or fish broth. No need to make it difficult for people. But in most cases, I prefer not to.
[The truth is, it's not even about not liking it, because he's had meat and chicken and fish before, and he's cooked it for Wei Ying too, but he was raised eating mostly vegetarian food so that's where his preference goes.]
Do we need the car?
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he just doesn't think it's a loss at all, really. there's more than enough ways and times to indulge what he likes without it being at the expense, and rather at his persistent request, of those he loves. )
Mm, yes, you wouldn't appreciate the public transit way over, even if it gives plenty of excellent reading time. Still, this is nice, right?
( leaning shoulder to shoulder, under the shade of the roses on the trellis, before that reflecting pool and the koi or carp-enough creatures mouthing the surface, forever hopeful of food falling from the heavens into their stomachs, waiting and never, ever full. )
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It's a nice place. Thank you for showing it to me.
[Places that are important to Wei Ying matter to him too.
He'll lead the way to the car again, and then wait for directions.]
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( Said after a hesitation, and softer, because he isn't sure if it isn't also him being pandered to; and on that level, not sure if he likes it or doesn't like it or, ah. Does it matter?
He does like this. Sitting shoulder to shoulder, and not worried in the same ways as he can be sometimes with thoughts of, when will this end. It's tentative, still, but he's leaning into a belief that when that time comes is far enough away to not... worry about it. Gerd for it.
As it is, he gives the directions to the noodle shop, and more importantly, to alleyway parking nearby, instead of contending with double parking roads and the like. What it means is a street with a side where people trail by in both directions, where cars are close but not deadly nuisances, and the sounds of traffic are more distant by the heavier traveled roads, a sort of susurration of urban reality in the background. Lanterns and lights on buildings and lamps over the street and strings of lights illuminate until they're there, and it being still daylight, most of what hangs overhead is dim to unremarkable. The sign for the noodle place is bright, red on white on gold, with a group of elder folks leaving with loud calls and waving hands and sour faces that are as affected as the grumpiness is, perhaps, true.
Inside they go, Wei Wuxian cheerful calls to the darting folks, a shout to the couple who run the stand, back in their kitchen again in that moment, all the back and forth of friendliness that comes in the guise of garrulous natures and prodigal sons (if prodigal sons came to lunch), and then:
An Auntie. One who takes two looks at them both, wiping her hands with a towel, and nods her head authoritatively. A word from Wei Wuxian, vegetarian, and still she announces: You will be fed. And they, to take seats at the counter, awaiting a meal. )
Auntie makes sure everyone eats well when they're here, flex a muscle or two, let her know you're misleadingly thin! Before she breaks out the desserts... though you'd maybe like those, so hm.
( he grins, and winks, and slides a teacup over while waiting on their tea to finish steeping. )
no subject
This is certainly not a part of town where he would have gone on his own. He dislikes bustle at most times. But being there with Wei Ying, because it's place Wei Ying wants to share, makes it different. He'll probably still be tired afterwards, need some time to regroup, but it's fine, still.
Still, even his neighborhood has aunties, because what neighborhood doesn't. And they know him because he helps them carry their shopping. And of course, in true auntie fashion, they try to feed him too. He still remembers that he had to explain to one what vegetarian means and yes, that means, no pork or beef, no, not even chicken, and she was horrified at first but took it in stride.
He catches the teacup, his gaze wandering around the place, trying to take in everything that is so different from what he is used to and always coming to that one, familiar thing, Wei Ying.]
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They make great longevity noodles too, ah?
( for birthdays, whenever they get around to them. perhaps also indicative of where wei wuxian has, at some point, been for a birthday or two. )
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