#Yangzhou Rice

[hanatatami]

I've been blessed with a very romantic birthday

[fragrantpines]

Thinking about kissing food men 💕

Yangzhou rice's face explodes into a blush whenever you kiss him. People who know that he is a food soul but don't know exactly what kind of food soul he is will easily mistake him for a ripe tomato from how incredibly red his face would become. 

After dating for a long time, his blush never truly disappears, it only lessens as time goes by as he gets used to your kisses and sudden bursts of affection, even reciprocating them in his own loving way after he gets over the embarrassment. Oh, but don't think that he'll become immune to your affections one day. All you have to do is kiss him once, slowly pull away while twirling his hair in your finger before saying "I love you" with your whole heart and– man down man down!! Someone get Dumpling right this instant!!!

Kissing Meng Po Soup is like falling into a sea of spider lilies. His lips are as cold as snow but are also as soft as silk, tempting you to deepen the kiss and allow him to wrap his arms around your waist, letting him pull you into a tight embrace before he falls asleep again with you in his arms. Even if you try to pull away, his scent is incredibly toxic, a deadly poison that pushes all thoughts to the back of your mind and whispers at you to fall asleep with him, to accompany him to a dreamland where both of you can stay and live happily ever after together. 

"Hm… don't go, stay with me…."

It's hard to tell whether he was awake or asleep when he said that as your mind was already on the brink of unconsciousness. 

Perhaps a little nap will help….

If you get caught trying to kiss Tusu Elixir, he will immediately give you a bombastic side eye. Maybe even a criminal offensive side eye. 

"What do you think you're doing? Have you finished memorizing all the common herbs used in medicine yet? You haven't? Then don't think of moving an inch from that spot until you can recall them all!"

In the blink of an eye, he turns his wheelchair and leaves the room at record speed, leaving you dumbfounded but too scared to move unless he comes back in and demands you to recite all the herbs right there and right now. 

Unbeknownst to you, Toso Wine will be just outside the door, covering the lower part of his face with the back of his hand as his eyes glare holes into the floor below him. He doesn't need to look into the mirror to know that his ears look as if they were on fire, making the blush spread across his face turn even darker. 

"Stupid." He curses under his breath, pondering on how to approach you and ask you to kiss him again without being too obvious about how much he craves your touch. 

Kissing Taibai Duck depends on 3 factors: time, location and how drunk he is. 

The last one is especially, especially important. Drunk Baiya and not drunk baiya were two entirely different people so proceed with caution. 

Depending on how drunk Baiya is, he'll either tease you about it or not even realize that you've kissed him. The latter only happens when he's incredibly intoxicated but if you try to go in for another kiss, he'll grab you by the wrist before swiftly placing his lips over yours, engaging a fiery kiss that ends with you feeling as if you were as drunk as the charming man smirking down at you. However, if he teases you and you try to move away, he'll panic and pull on your sleeve, asking you to stay for a little longer. If you agree, he'll grin and kiss you lightly, thanking you for staying by his side.  

On the rare occasions when Baiya isn't intoxicated, your kisses become his new form of intoxication. His kisses aren't limited to just your face. Your hands, your legs, your neck… anywhere that he can possibly reach on your body is a place that he will kiss on. If you ask him to stop, all he'll do is chuckle and kiss your lips briefly before continuing– but not before cupping your cheeks and gazing into your eyes softly.

"If time could ease its relentless march when we’re together,

and hasten its plodding pace when we’re apart,

I could spend an eternity in your arms,

to savor love everlasting in my heart."

The poem in Baiya's part:

https://www.momjunction.com/articles/short-love-poems_00697479/

18. Mi Amor

- Benjay

I was going to put in a romantic chinese poem for Baiya's part but all of em were too long for my liking so I took one from another website :') Got to brush up on my poetry skills if I were to write more Baiya stuff in the future

Update: Changed Taibai -> Baiya, changed Toso Wine -> Tusu Elixir

[wayfarerxiii]

I'm losing my mind over this interaction

[angelicapocalypse]

• The Pretty Ones I Have So Far •

[mionie]

My husband in Tale of Food... Yangzhou Rice❤️

The first time I saw him being choked by the enemy I'm sorry!!!! But he was SO SO SOOOOO pretty😭😭 I instantly fell in love

I had to grind the current event to collect Lunar Blossoms JUST to buy his skin!!

Not to mention his ✨voice✨ and his Affection story 😍💍 I'm on my knees marry me gosh, he's soooooo handsome😍😍

[dream-meister-translations]

HALF ANNIVERSARY LETTER : THE PROMISE OF KONGSANG

━

Dear Master,

Master, I woke up quite early this morning. So did everyone else. We're all extremely happy, for today is a very special day.

It has been six months since you started repairing "The Tale of Food".

Six months... It feels so short yet so long for me... Do you feel the same? It feels as if we just met yesterday. Your smile and kindness are still fresh in my mind. I can still remember your expression. I remember how your clothes fluttered in the air, and how rays of golden light shone in the sky. But after further reflection, I realized how much we have experienced in merely six months.

We climbed the mountains with Yipin Pot; we held a concert for Har-grow; we saw smiles and laughter when Kongsang's sports carnival took place, and we also saw tears of joy when friends reunited. Everything has come together, like a long roll of painting. And you, are always the centerpiece.

As I was writing this letter, the weather was beautiful outside. Plum blossoms are blooming on the branches, and you're enjoying your quality time with Hawthorn and co.

If only these days could last forever.

-- Yanzhou Rice

[thetaleoffood-archive]

[silver-leviet]

Current Situation at hand :

[thefrogwhobarks]

Marcy Wu.... you made me crave something so delicious TwT

spent 3 days learning and and preparing this (probably hyperfocus oops)

[aliefransblog]

[ambrosialsyrup]

I take back what I said here. My schedule’s now gonna be whenever my motivation hits me again but I will try and update at least once or twice a week.

I’m gonna try and update at least once a day or else my drafts are gonna stare me down. The next event is going to be the death of me if what I’m hearing is correct..

[fragrantpines]

Yangzhou's kisses are like winter's first snow, soft to the touch and come unexpectedly every single time. Every time he touches you, he treats you like a delicate flower, holding your cheek with the softest of touches as his thumb traces your cheekbone gently, noting how perfect you are in his head while a small smile begins to appear on his face. 

Before you can question him, he leans down and brushes his lips against yours, whispering in a low tone. "Can I kiss you?"

You chuckle, for when have you ever refused? He laughs along, a sound so delightful to the ear that it makes your heart skip a bit. It lowers your guard and leaves you defenseless when he decides to lean even closer to you, looking into your eyes unabashedly as if he wished to carve this image into his mind forever. 

"As my master wishes," he replies calmly, however his reddening cheeks exposed how fast his heart was beating out of his chest . You didn't have a chance to tease him about it before he firmly sealed your lips with his own, kissing with fervent passion and a hint of possessiveness that contradicted his usual gentlemanly look. While you were distracted, his free arm carefully wraps around your waist and pulls you closer to him while his hand that had been caressing your cheek slowly moves to the back of your head, combing through your hair before pressing you closer to further deepen the kiss. 

For a while, the world falls silent as he takes his time to embrace you, knowing full well that your time with him is as limited as the few grains of sand inside an hourglass. There was nothing in the world that he wouldn't give to have you all to himself even for just a day but alas, you are Kongsang's young master and treasure before you are his lover. Your duties are piled up higher than the tallest of mountains while food souls that are more capable than him can be found abundantly in this heaven for food souls, making him feel a sense of helplessness as he sees you surrounded by other food souls every day, watching them in envy as the best he can hope for from you is a glance during the day and a moment of your time during the night.

Please rely on me more, look at me more, love me more….

All the words that were spoken during lonely nights turned into wishes that were prayed to be fulfilled by every star in the sky. Even now, as he reluctantly pulls away from you, all he can think of is how stunning you look when your gaze is focused on him and when his prayers will finally be answered. 

"Since you've never refused my kisses before, may I assume that I am allowed to continue?"

[mademoiselle-red]

Imagining how Lianhua’s household would celebrate Chinese New Year’s Eve…

On the morning of New Year’s Eve, Lianhua announces to Ah Fei and Xiaobao that he’s got their new year’s eve dinner all planned out.

“Trust me,” he says with unfounded confidence.

Ah Fei narrows his eyes. Xiaobao smiles nervously with trepidation.

On Chinese new year’s eve, Lianhua presents his husband and disciple/adopted child with the following dishes:

Vinegar Fish of the Western Lake 西湖醋鱼

Xiaobao’s review: Amazingly, it tastes just as terrible as the version they serve at the famous Hangzhou restaurant Lou Wai Lou.

(Author note: Seriously, don’t order this “regional delicacy” if you find yourself in Hangzhou. Unless you enjoy the taste of unseasoned steamed fish drowning in vinegar sauce. Order any other fish dish. Like squirrel fish 松鼠鳜鱼 or a plain old steamed fish 清蒸鱼. Also, Lou Wai Lou is a tourist trap. Yes it’s got a long history, and was referenced in the Mysterious Lotus Casebook theme song and appears in Grave Robber’s Chronicles, but no, it is no longer good.)

Osmanthus Lotus 桂花莲藕

Xiaobao’s review: All the ingredients are there and assembled correctly. But why is the flower sauce burnt????

Lianhua: I’ve already ruined two pans from trying to make this sauce! The sugar keeps hardening into rock candy and sticking to my pan! (Caramelization is hard 😭)

(Author note: Do order this dish if you travel to the Yangzhou-Nanjing-Hangzhou-Shanghai area. It’s steamed lotus stuffed with sweet sticky rice and covered in sweet osmanthus flower sauce, what’s not to love?)

Bamboo shoot and chicken soup 竹笋炖鸡

Di Feisheng’s review: Even I am finding it hard to ignore the amount of salt that’s in this soup

Xiaobao: This is salvageable. I’m going to boil some water

(Author note: this is a new year staple in my household 😋)

Longjin Shrimp 龙井虾仁

Fang Duobing’s review: This is actually ok. But then again, it’s hard to really mess this dish up. But I don’t taste the tea. At all. It’s just stir-fried shrimp. Where is the Longjin?

Lianhua: Young Master Fang, do you know how much Longjin tea costs???

(Author note: I tried making this dish at home. It is stir-fried shrimp in a sauce that incorporates Longjin tea. It’s hard to get the tea flavor right without it either not coming through or becoming too bitter. The stir-fried shrimp part is pretty easy.)

After dinner, Xiaobao receives a very bulky red envelope from Lianhua and gets very excited. He opens it, revealing eight bank notes, each worth only one silver tael. His face drops and he begins to pout but Lianhua reminds him that he is a broke old man, while Xiaobao stands to inherit one of the largest fortunes in the country.

Di Feisheng reluctantly hands Xiaobao a very thin envelope. “My accountant prepared it for me. I don’t know anyone I’d consider my junior 晚辈, so you can have it.”

It’s one bank note worth 800 silver taels.

Both Xiaobao and Lianhua gasp in shock.

Lianhua: “Do I get one too? You’re a bit older than me, you know.”

Di Feisheng: “Have you got no pride?”

Lianhua: “Ah Fei gege” 🥺

(Note: gege means “older brother” in Chinese)

[whooolaanmo]

altang

Yangzhou fried rice ay ang kinasanayan na yangchow fried rice kung tawagin, tas ulam ko ay chinese style fried chicken tas may chili oil sa tabi.

Kain po.

Aug. 29, 2024 11:59 am

[angelicapocalypse]

• They All Look So Pretty 😍 •

[a-christmas-carol-from-hr]

Where the Stone Flowers Grow

TW: discussion of miscarriage and child loss, mentions of disordered eating

-

March 10th, 2013

Tower Hamlets Cemetery Park was hardly somewhere anyone expected to see Ellen Scrooge, chromium queen. It was too green. Too alive. Ellen was well known as somebody who preferred the indoors to the outdoors. But that was only because much of the outdoors in London weren’t her kind of outdoors. She disliked most parks and gardens, it was true. But that was because they weren’t her kind of gardens.

Her kind of gardens were like the countryside she’d grown up in. Wild and green and untamed and green. Swarming with insects, swarming with plants. Swarming with the things her mother and sister had so loved. Swarming with life.

Tower Hamlets Cemetery Park was her kind of outdoors.

She had been coming here more and more since Marley’s stroke. On evenings when she needed to take in some air, she found herself without fail in the green embrace of Tower Hamlets. She’d visited her mother and sister’s graves more in the past three months than she had in her entire life. Today brought her to them again.

“I have to do some chores today.” Ellen had told Marley while dressing. “I need to go to the Cemetery. To bring my mother and Farah flowers.”

Marley had looked up when she said that. “Do you…want me to go with you?”

The thought made her uncomfortable. But rejecting him felt even worse. “Sure.” She had said, trying to hide her unease. “It’ll be good exercise.”

When they’d entered the cemetery, Marley’s eyes had gone wide with surprise. The man was about as inclined as Ellen was to nature walks, and he had evidently not believed such a place could exist in their drab East End. He looked at the encroaching moss and the sticky mud and the tombstones sinking into the ground.

“I can see why you like it here.” He said with all sincerity.

She left him to his wanderings (they were trying to give him more independence) while she headed towards the section of the cemetery where her mother was located. Yaling Scrooge was not buried here, of course. Her ashes, and that of her son with no name, were somewhere in her father’s clutches. But she and Farah had paid for a tombstone with Ellen’s first paycheck.

Yaling’s headstone carried her name in Chinese first, a subtle jab at Jasper Scrooge that he’d never seen. The English below listed her name and the years she had been born and died in. They hadn’t inscribed such things as ‘loving mother’ or ‘devoted wife’. They’d thought the Chinese letters more important. Mum had tried so hard to keep her culture close, even as Jasper had demanded it stripped away like a scab. Ellen would be cold in her grave before she let anyone forget her mother’s culture.

She placed the bouquet of flowers at her grave. It was entirely biodegradable. In a few weeks it would feed the bugs that thrived in the graveyard. Mum would have loved that.

“Happy Mother’s day, Mother.”

Farah’s grave was nearby. Newer than Yaling’s, a bowl of Yangzhou fried rice and a jar of green tea sat on the grave, pristine despite the wildness around it. Ellen couldn’t help but smile at the sight. She must have just missed Fred. He brought his mother an offering of her favorite food each year. And- yes. There. Tucked behind the jar was a tiny bowl of beer. Cheap beer. Farah’s favorite.

“You have a good son, Farah.” Ellen said, placing a second bouquet alongside Fred’s offerings. “Happy Mother’s day, Huangfeng.”

The little statues aren’t so far from the other graves, so she usually visits them last. Today, she would especially prefer to visit them last.

She moved further into the gloom of the cemetery, enjoying the quiet of the grave as she moved along. She saw the red of the fabric tied around the statues first, and as she drew closer she saw the tiny stone faces come into view. As she approached her fingernail buried in her hand.

Ellen stood in front of them, as still as stone herself. For a moment, all she could do was stare. And then she moved.

“Stupid thing.” She said quietly, brushing her hand over one of the heads protectively. Its little red cap had become torn by the English winter. “You’ve torn it already. What are you to do now?”

She glanced over at the other statue. “He hasn’t torn his.” She chided as she removed the red knit fabric from the second statue. Without it, it seemed frightfully bare.

Ellen tucked the torn woolen cap into her pocket, and without hesitate unfurled her own red scarf from her neck.

“You are lucky I wore this today,” She said, as if she hadn’t put it on for this reason. “There. Now you are neat again. As neat as a pin.”

Bundled up in the oversized scarf, the statue looked like a swaddled babe.

“Now you’re all better.” Ellen murmured, breath hitching.

It was only then that she was aware of a presence behind her.

Marley was standing nearby, leaning on his cane as he watched her. How long he’d been there, she didn’t know. His expression was unfathomable as she straightened up.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“Chores.” She said, clearing her throat.

“You were talking to them. I saw you.” He said, glancing at the statues. “Those aren’t the graves. What are they?”

“Statues.”

“I can see that, woman.” He said.

“Well, then you don’t need to pry.” She snapped back, feeling vulnerable.

His expression turned to concern. “You’re- right. I’m sorry. I…was just…you’re right. I’m sorry. I can wait. Take all the time you need.”

“No, it’s- fine.” She said, looking at her hand as she brushed it down her coat. “I was finished.”

The gloom, that had once been so comforting, now seemed so very oppressive. It felt like she and Marley were the only ones in the world, isolated by the foliage. The only ones in the world. They, and a subject they’d never discussed.

She looked back at the statues. The wind had tugged at the scarf. Without thinking, she moved to fix it.

“Jizō.”” She said after a moment. Her voice was flat.

“What?” Marley asked, confused.

“Jizō. That’s what they are. They’re statues of Jizō. It’s part of a ritual. Mizuko kuyō.” She said as she adjusted the scarf.

“I’m not familiar.”

She tugged at the scarf. Why wouldn’t it lie straight? “It’s a ritual in Buddhism. Usually in Japan, but it’s spread to China as well. It’s a memorial statue.” If she goes farther, she cannot take it back. If she goes farther, things will not be the same. If she goes farther, it all could end.

But she can’t lie to him. Not in front of them.

“They’re memorials for lost children.”

She expected him to awkwardly nod. She expected him to say something and then make an excuse to go. She expected him to acknowledge this with as much emotion as he had before.

She didn’t expect his eyes to widen.

She didn’t expect the brief look of something to flicker over his face before he hid it.

She didn’t expect him to immediately look over at the second of the two statues.

“…Ah.” He said.

The only noise Ellen could hear was the whisper of the wind in the trees. She and Marley stood across from each other, close and far. The ghost of 2008 lingered between them.

She blinked first. She glanced at her phone before stiffly moving past him. “Fred wishes for me to double check something at Farah’s grave. I’ll be a moment.”

Marley nodded. He leaned heavily on his cane.

As she returned to Farah’s grave like the coward she was, she knew her sister was glaring at her from the other world. She put her hand on the top of the tombstone. The granite was grounding. Farah had been dead for two years when she was buried. Her partner had kept her ashes in the home for that long. But eventually he’d had them interred here, in the earth. Now Farah was in the trees and grass and plants around her. She’d have loved it.

Why is it so hard for you to talk about this? You’ve seen the man’s brain scans. You’ve held him down for a spinal tap. Why can’t you be open for once?

I can’t, she thought back as she looked at the grave. Not with this. Not again.

The wind seemed to snap at her skin. He’s not Bellamy, girl. But the cold breeze shifted again, becoming gentle as it played with her hair. It’s okay, Tu-Ying.

Farah had been dead two years before her partner had felt okay with letting her go. These things took time.

Maybe it was time for her, too, to try and let go.

She brushed her fingers over the tombstone with a sister’s care. “Why do you always have to be right?”

The leaves seemed to laugh at her.

The walk back seemed longer than the walk there. Maybe she was going slower, trying to avoid what seemed to grow ever closer. Maybe she was simply imagining it. But as she grew closer to the statues, she heard something. Something she did think she was imagining.

“...I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I didn’t know this was here.”

A voice was speaking quietly, gently, oh so painfully gentle.

It was his voice.

Marley was standing by the second statue, hand on its stone head. His cane leaned up against the platform. His only support was the statue.

“I know you’re here now. I know now. I’ll come and visit. I’ll bring something next time too. Something red. Roses, maybe. Yes. I’ll bring roses. I’ll bring you roses. I’ll bring you roses, even in the winter. It’ll be a fuss, but I’ll do it anyway. I’ll bring you flowers, even in the winter.”

A twig crunched under her foot as she stepped forward. It was the only sound she could make. She was too stunned to speak.

He turned around, as surprised as she was to see somebody else.

They stared at each other. A cavern seemed between them. An ocean. A secret. The Thing they had never spoken of again. He put on the mask of cool composure in an instant. But his eyes were rimmed as red as the statue’s fabric.

He’s grieving. Dear god. He was grieving.

“I wanted it.” She admitted. The words seem to rip out her lungs with them.

He looked at her for a moment. A long moment. An eternity. Stars seemed to be conceived and die in that moment.

And then the mask fell. And he looked so very tired.

“I wanted it too.”

Ellen let go of a breath she’d been holding for the past five years.

Marley looked back at the statue. His hand still rested on its head. His thumb brushed over the tiny stone face, like he was wiping dirt from a child. “You can t-t-think I’m pa-pathetic if you want. I do.”

“You’re not pathetic.” Ellen said faintly. “Do you think I’m pathetic?” She framed it as if it was a rhetorical question, but it rang entirely sincere.

“No.” Marley replied immediately. “But t-that’s different.”

“Why?”

“You would have been an excellent mother.”

Marley could have stabbed her right then and here and it wouldn’t have hurt as much as that did. Her hand rested on her ribs, the force of his words enough to elicit a physical reaction. But he didn’t seem to notice. He kept looking at the statue.

“It probably is a bit pathetic. I’m n-not the fathering type. I’d probably have made things worse. But…still.”

“No.” She said, finding her footing again. “No.”

“No, what? That I’m not the fathering type? I know that.”

“No,” She repeated. “No, you…would have been an excellent father.”

He looked back at Ellen, disbelief evident in his eyes. When he smiled, it was perfectly straight. “Thank you.”

“I mean it.” She moved closer, hand rubbing at her rib. “I…” She began. “...I don’t know what to say.”

“I don’t know what to say e-either.” He admitted.

They stood in front of the stones, unable to do much else. As she stepped to his side, somehow their hands found each other.

It had begun to rain.

They stood there for God knows how long, wrapped in silence. When it was broken, it was broken by her.

“I’m sorry,” She began.

“For what?”

“Not knowing you were hurting. Fuck, not realizing you were hurting.”

“It wasn’t like I made it all that clear.”

“I should have noticed anyway. And I’m sorry.”

“...I’m sorry too,” He started. “I…should have tried more to reach you. I didn’t know what to say. What to do. I didn’t want to bother you, and you were so…as you were. I didn’t know how you felt, and I didn’t want to say anything wrong. I thought…” He trailed off.

“What?”

“No. Forget it.”

“What were you going to say?”

Marley hesitated. “...You seemed…closed off when you…told me. I didn’t know…how you felt. If you were…I didn’t want to bother you.”

If you were relieved.

Rain traced a line down her face. She ignored it. “...I was sad. I didn’t want it to end that way.” She said simply.

“I didn’t either.” He replied. They lapsed back into silence until he broke it.

“I waited for you.” It came out of Marley’s mouth in a tumble, a half-desperate confession.

“What?” She looked over at him, confused. His face had grown pale, his hand shaking. He had a distant look in his eyes.

“I waited. In the waiting room. For hours. Hours upon hours. They’d not let me back.” His accent slipped from English to Scottish seamlessly. “I sat there and then I’d try to argue with them and then I’d go back to sitting and then I made myself be sick, and for the first time it didn’t make me feel better.” He spoke quickly, as if he couldn’t hold it in another moment.

“I waited. For hours. And I had no idea what was going on. And then it was all over.”

Ellen breathed in. It felt like her lungs were coated in barbed wire, like each tube and line was made of venom. Her body felt like a warzone. Barren and void of life.

“Jacob,” She breathed. “I’m so sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t.”

“I know,” She replied. “But I’m sorry anyway.”

He tried to smile. There was rain dripping down his face. It was caught in the still growing buzz of his hair, running down the scar on his scalp.

“It’s funny. I can’t re-remember much of anything anymore. But I can remember every second of that day. Isn’t it funny?”

She moved closer, her other hand tilting his chin towards hers. “It’s funny.” She agreed.

She had a perfect memory. She never forgot anything.

Their foreheads met. Behind their skulls lurked a tangled mess of broken wires and twisted memories. But they were theirs.

“I love you.” He said quietly.

“I love you.” She repeated.

“I’m sorry.” He said.

“Me too.” She replied.

They stood like that for a few moments before breaking. It was strange, Ellen mused, how they had stopped being in physical contact so easily, but she had never felt closer to Marley than she did right now.

“We should get you out of the rain,” She said, something of her no-nonsense tone returning. As they leave, arm in arm, she speaks in a voice that is not quite casual.

“The apartment isn’t far from here. You should walk here when you feel up to it. It might be good for you.”

What she’s doing is transparent, even by Ellen Scrooge standards. If you miss them, you can visit. It’s okay. But Marley seems thankful for the invitation anyway. He smiles at her. It’s sad, but it’s crooked. And maybe that’s the best they can hope for.

-

Postscript

The next day she goes into work. Around lunch, a delivery was dropped off for her. She returns to her office to find a vase of flowers in wait.

“Somebody sent these for you, Ms. Scrooge.” The temporary assistant explains.

The bouquet is made up of lavender, and Arum lilies, and Forget-me-not, and rosemary, and red sage. A small card sits amid the blooms.

Happy Mother’s Day. -J