#cooking with wei wuxian: a cautionary tale

[coffintownkids]

The past week was an absolute slog for me, but I finally did get to finish Ch.35.

It’s time for “Cooking with Wèi Wúxiàn!”

Just a quick edit to add in a Read More cut. Saw this on mobile and realized this was looooong!

Lemme tell ya, the dinginess of the kitchen in the show’s got nothing on the book description.

Lán Sīzhuī followed Wèi Wúxiàn back into the kitchen. As soon as he entered, he was assaulted by a foul stench wafting towards him. Lán Sīzhuī had never smelled anything so terrible in his life and was dizzy for a moment, but he made himself endure and didn’t rush back out. Jīn Líng had also followed after them and jumped back as soon as he was in the doorway, desperately fanning himself, “What the hell is that smell!!! Why are you in here and not thinking of a way to cure the poison!”

Wèi Wúxiàn said, “Huh? You’re just in time. How did you know I was going to call you over? Help us out.”

Jīn Líng said, “I didn’t come here to help out! Gah! Did they kill somebody in here and forget to bury them?!”

Wèi Wúxiàn said, “Little Miss Jīn, are you coming or not? Just come in and help us out. If not, go sit back down and ask somebody else to come over.”

Jīn Líng was instantly furious, “Who is Little Miss Jīn? Be careful with what you say to me!” He pinched his nose for a while to regain his composure, then finally groaned, “I just want to see what the hell you’re actually up to.” He then angrily lifted his robes and charged in. Who knew that Wèi Wúxiàn would open a container with a clang and the precise stench would be coming from inside it. The case had pig haunches and a single chicken sealed up inside it. The red meat had gone green and had given birth to little white maggots writhing around in the green.

It also forced Jīn Líng out of the room. Wèi Wúxiàn lifted the container and handed it over to him, “Throw it away. It doesn’t matter where you toss it, just take it somewhere where we won’t be able to smell it.”

*pukes*

Kinda glad they didn’t show that more graphically on TV! I also do love tsundere!JL.

Jīn Líng said, “What are you cleaning the stove for? It’s not like we need to eat.”

Wèi Wúxiàn said, “Who said we don’t? Eating is precisely what you need to do. Come sweep away the dust and get the spiderwebs off the surface, too.”

He said it in such a righteous and self-assured way, as if it was so matter-of-fact, that Jīn Líng inexplicable found a dustpan stuffed into his hands and he did as instructed while in a daze. The more he swept, the more he got the sense that something wasn’t right. He was just about to check the broom at Wèi Wúxiàn’s head when Wèi Wúxiàn opened up another container. The dismay of it had him dashing outside. Fortunately, they were not assaulted by any stench this time.

WWX continues to roll high charisma stats and keeps bamboozling people into doing what he wants.

Jīn Líng said, “You’re making congee?”

Wèi Wúxiàn, “Yup.”

Jīn Líng threw a dishrag. Wèi Wúxiàn said, “Look at you. You work for a while and then get mad. Now look at Sīzhuī. He’s been working as hard as he can and hasn’t said a word about it. What’s so bad about congee?”

Jīn Líng said, “What’s so good about congee? It’s so bland! That’s not it… You think I’m mad because congee isn’t good?!”

Wèi Wúxiàn said, “It’s also not for you anyway.”

Jīn Líng got even angrier, “What did you say? I did all this and I don’t get my share?!”

Lán Sīzhuī said, “Mò-gōngzǐ, is it possible for congee to cure corpse poisoning?”

LSZ remains a good boy and JL remains a tsundere.

Quite a bit of plotty dialogue and worldbuilding happens that is way too long to post, but this line’s right in the middle of it.

Wèi Wúxiàn used a spatula while mixing the contents of various of bottles and jars into the pot of congee

Uh oh! LOL

Meanwhile, Lán Sīzhuī was crouched down on the ground fanning the firewood while glancing up, “Mò-qiánbèi, the congee seems to be done cooking?”

Wèi Wúxiàn returned to his senses, stopped stirring his spatula, and took a taste from the bowl that Lán Sīzhuī had just washed, “Okay. Go carry it out and give a bowlful to each of the poisoned people to eat.”

Notice something different? LSZ changes how he addresses WWX from Mò-gōngzǐ to Mò-qiánbèi in the middle of this conversation! He’s acknowledging that he’s sees him as not just a another cultivator, but as a more knowledgeable peer for him to learn from. In terms some of you may be more familiar with, it’s kinda like changing from “san” to “senpai.”

However, after it was brought out and having only eaten one mouthful, Lán Jǐngyí sprayed it out, “What is this, more poison?!”

Wèi Wúxiàn said, “What poison? That’s the antidote! It’s sticky rice congee.”

Lán Jǐngyí said, “Why congee is the antidote is not what I’m talking about right now. I’ve never eaten such spicy congee before!”

One by one, all the other people that had tasted it nodded along with watery-looking eyes. Wèi Wúxiàn stroked his chin. He had grown up in Yúnmèng and the people of Yúnmèng were very capable when it came to eating spicy food. Wèi Wúxiàn preferred it to be as hot as possible. But whenever he was given the chance, he would always make it so unbearably spicy that Jiāng Chéng would throw his bowl down and curse at him for making it inedible. He was also eternally incapable of adding ingredients to a pot spoonful by spoonful. It seemed he hadn’t managed to stop himself just now, either. Out of curiosity, Lán Sīzhuī picked up a bowl with both hands and took a sip. His entire face flushed as he choked and tried to keep himself from spraying it. His eyes were red as he thought to himself, This taste is…Actually so horrible that it gives me bit of déjà vu…

LJY continues to be the most un-Lán ever. I love him! And not even fellow Yúnmèng native JC could put up with WWX’s cooking. WWX is the dude that reads a recipe calling for jalapeños and adds Carolina ghost reapers. Meanwhile, LSZ can’t figure out why it’s so horrifyingly familiar...

All the young disciples all went “blech” one after the other to express their disbelief, but they still drank down all their congee with miserable expressions. During the ensuing time, all of their faces glowed red from ear to ear and their brows were beaded with sweat. Every one of them was enduring torment worse than death. Wèi Wúxiàn couldn’t help saying, “Are you kidding me? Hánguāng-Jūn is also a Gūsū native and he’s still rather capable at handling spicy food. Why are all of you like this then?”

Lán Sīzhuī covered his mouth with his hand, “He doesn’t, qianbei. Hánguāng-Jūn prefers really light fare. He never eats spicy food…”

Wèi Wúxiàn was dumbfounded, “Is that right?”

But he remembered, after he rebelled against the Jiāng Sect of Yúnmèng in his previous life, he had still encountered Lán Wàngjī once while in Yílíng. During that time, although Wèi Wúxiàn had been the subject of considerable criticism, it still hadn’t gotten to the point that they were chasing him down. So he had cheekily demanded for Lán Wàngjī to have a meal with him and reminisce about the good old days. Lán Wàngjī had ordered spicy cuisine featuring all sorts of dishes with Sì​chuān peppers, so he had always assumed Lán Wàngjī’s tastes ran rather similar to his own.

Now that he thought about it, he actually couldn’t remember whether or not Lán Wàngjī had reached for those dishes with his chopsticks. Only that before the meal, he had said he would treat him to the meal and that after he ate, he was able to forget about that completely and Lán Wàngjī still paid the bill. It was natural for him to still not remember such details now.

He didn’t know why he suddenly, in the middle of this, strongly and deeply wanted to see Lán Wàngjī’s face.

Gahhhhhh. LWJ wanting to spoil WWX and ordering all his favorite foods! WWX and his spotty memory and not realizing why LWJ would order spicy food if he didn’t like it. ;_;

Also, I can’t imagine why WWX would want to see him so badly all of a sudden.

[melatovnik]

i wanted to make this quick wangxian fic rec post just so they don’t get lost. i asked for cute/funny fics and @manhasetardis​​ delivered. thanks teresa! ❤

housed by your warmth by scifi | rated E | 2K words

wei wuxian may never grow to enjoy mornings but he enjoys this, he really enjoys this – stolen time together, bodies reuniting, waking up before the world.

rainy season by scifi | rated T | 3K words

even rabbits deserve to stay dry (in which lan zhan brings all the rabbits to the jingshi during a summer storm and wei ying is pleasantly surprised)

The Thing Is by sunlightrefrain | rated T | 8K words

“What the fuck, dude.” Jin Zixun sounds mad. Oh, he sounds very mad. “Are you out of your fucking mind? I’ll get you fucking expelled.”

Lan Zhan, who doesn’t give even an ounce of a shit, only grits out, “Please, by all means.” Which, for Lan Zhan, is more or less the verbal equivalent of a fuck you and your ancestral home too. Wei Ying blanches.

Or; Wei Ying meets Lan Zhan when he’s seven. Nearly two decades later, Lan Zhan punches Jin Zixun.

Far Away You Are by cqlorphan | rated E | 17K words

Suddenly, it snaps into place. The weary way Lan Zhan has been holding himself is suddenly cast in a new, much more distressing light. Somebody is responsible for it, a real live, horrible, blind, stupid person. The combination of guilt, sadness, and anger that sets in all at once is hard to contain. Lingering wisps of resentment that remain from the night-hunt flock to him, like calling to like.

All four boys stare at him with wide eyes.

“Wei-qianbei,” Sizhui says. “You look...um…”

“Scary,” Zizhen breathes, beaming.

“Who has rejected Lan Zhan?” Wei Wuxian asks.

Or; during one of his visits to the Cloud Recesses, the juniors strike a blow to Wei Wuxian's certainty that his feelings for Lan Wangji are one-sided.

Swipe Right by Bowandtie | rated T | 30K words

How not to use Chinese Tinder, a cautionary tale. (Or not, if you're looking at the end result.)

WWX made his life's mission to be matched with every weird people with hilariously bad profile pic on Tantan.

thoroughly in earnest by stiltonbasket | rated G | 3K words

The first time someone addresses him as something other than "Honored Master Wei" during an assembly, Wei Wuxian barely registers it.

He's never been one for titles, after all.

Ten years after his wedding, Wei Wuxian ascends as Chief Cultivator.

Somehow, he's the last one to know about it.

the And They Were Married And Had a Son series by yellowcarnations | rated G | 9K words total

Xiu Mei can see the gobsmacked faces of her classmates on the screen, some of them even have their mouth hanging open comically. She doesn't doubt that she is in a similar state herself.

Not only is Professor Lan is apparently married, he's married to Professor Wei, and they also have a kid together. Literally no one could've seen that coming.

neck deep with no way out by ericacea & SugarMilkTea | rated T | 29K words

There's a hickey on Lan Zhan's neck, and Wei Ying didn't put it there. Wei Ying's Plan For Gaining Lan Zhan's Affections™️ had not accounted for this. He sets out to discover who exactly has had their mouth on his friend's neck—and figure out how to get his plan back on track.

Friendly Fields, Open Roads by queensmooting | not rated | 12K words

She smiles. She scrunches up her nose. She sneezes a monstrous cloud of dark smoke in Wei Wuxian's face.

"Lan Zhan," he says lightly. "I think something's wrong with your baby."

Nothing But Trouble by brooklinegirl | rated E | 60K words

"I don't want to really date anyone. It's so stupid, I just need to pretend date someone until Jiang Cheng gets his act together, then go back to my own life." He stares at his empty coffee cup.

"Date me," Lan Zhan says. Then he looks at Wei Ying's empty cup. "Would you like another cup of coffee?"

"Always," Wei Ying says automatically. "But wait, what."

"I'll get you another cup." Lan Zhan rises smoothly from the table.

"No, wait, hang on." Wei Ying grabs his wrist before he can take the cup and Lan Zhan freezes up, staring down at where Wei Ying is hanging on to him. "Fuck, sorry, I'll—" Wei Ying hastily lets go of his wrist. "Sorry, I—what did you mean?"

"I can pretend to date you," Lan Zhan says. "You take it with cream and sugar, correct?"

like, comment, share & subscribe by detectorist | rated T | 22K words

“Come on, A-Cheng!” Wei Ying says. “Think of all the hapless youths who are watching hanguang_jun’s channel and being duped into thinking that’s what university is like! It’s not fair on the kids!”

Jiang Cheng appears to be entirely unmoved by this highly logical argument.

—

Lan Zhan runs a popular studytuber YouTube channel. Wei Ying decides to parody his videos. Things escalate from there.

play your love songs all night long by AlfAlfAlfAlfAlf & tardigradeschool | rated E | 2K words

Look, sometimes you meet a guy in college and become best friends. Sometimes the two of you spend a day babysitting objectively the best baby on earth, and that baby needs parents. Sometimes you get married to the guy (platonically!) and spend thirteen years raising the best baby on earth into the best teenager on earth. Also you share a bed. Also you're in love with him.

Wei Ying is pretty sure all that is normal. Lan Zhan agrees. Sizhui is... dubious.

like blue flame over my fingertips by tangerinechar | rated T | 37K words

Lan Wangji’s roommate is brash, noisy, messy, annoying, and — absolutely terrible at feeding himself properly.

(Or: food as a metaphor for love, featuring Lan Wangji’s A++ cooking skills, five times Lan Wangji cooked for Wei Wuxian, and one time Wei Wuxian reciprocated.)

and bonus fic rec from @themanfromnantucket​ (thank you! ^^):

Just say yes by edenwolfie | rated T | 10K words

Lan Qiren had never had a student he couldn’t improve, and Wei Wuxian would not be the exception, especially not now that his nephew was in love with the troublemaker. He would not allow history to repeat itself.

plus one more fic rec from me since i read this recently and loved it:

and there was only one tent by detectorist | rated E | 21K words

Lan Zhan gets into the front and Wei Ying hands him a paddle before getting in the back. The canoe rocks a little as they settle themselves.

“Comfortable?” Wei Ying says. Lan Zhan looks over his shoulder and nods. Wei Ying decides, abruptly, that this is probably the one of the best views he’s ever going to get in his life: Lan Zhan in the front of the canoe, wearing his baby blue baseball cap, bathed in sunlight, with the sparkling expanse of water all around them and the lush sugar maples in the background.

—

Wei Ying and Lan Zhan go camping.

[boxoftheskyking]

Here’s some Untamed fic

I don’t know that I’m going to continue it

But

To make this AU work I had to do a lot of canon divergence so here we go

Part 1: The Cautionary Tale of the Yiling Not-Quite-Patriarch

---

It’s meant to be redemption, or at least a chance in that direction. This is what mercy looks like, for someone like him.

There’s a crack in the skin between his left thumb and forefinger, not bleeding now, but it will as soon as his hands dry again. He beats the flat paddle against another set of identical white and pale blue robes, keeping his distance from the fire below. Of course, he has to keep the fire going to boil the water. Simple things like this he forgets, a phantom ache inside him as his instincts tell him to just turn energy into heat.

It will be better, he tells himself, once he charms some of the other house servants. After nearly three months, he’s worn the younger ones down to at least talk to him at meals, even smile at him in passing sometimes. It’s meant to be an extra punishment, a lesson, sticking him with laundry, dishes, scrubbing down the floors. The most menial labor, mostly performed by women. Well, lucky for him, women love him. Or they will, once his status as a cautionary tale wears off. It’s not cautionary for them, anyway.

That Wei Wuxian, you know he used to be such a promising cultivator. Head Disciple of the Jiang Clan, can you believe it? You see, juniors, the punishment for traveling the path of demonic cultivation. No golden core, not so much as a whisper of spiritual power.

He scratches his nose and sighs, a little rueful. Right events, he thinks to himself, wrong order. But no one needs to hear the real story; decisions were made, judgments handed down, and no one had been there to speak for him. Sometimes that’s the way of it. He’s been abandoned before, and he turned out fine. Well, he laughs at himself, maybe not entirely fine, in the eyes of the world.

It’s not the drudgery of the work that bothers him. He still remembers enough of his childhood on the streets in Yunmeng, trading a day of cleaning the corners of an inn that only his tiny hands could reach in exchange for a place to sleep and a bowl of cold congee. It’s that he’s really not good at it. They could have assigned him elsewhere—there are servants that tidy up the library pavilion, that run messages into town and back. Even polishing the wall of Lan Sect rules would be closer to his actual skillset. But that’s both more public and less demeaning, so here he is on laundry duty. Heavens forbid any of his former peers see him and recognize the once-great Wei Wuxian, perhaps give a polite nod or a hello. Even without a golden core, his demonic influence may leap out and corrupt the innocent young Lan disciples. Wei Wuxian laughs at the thought, and it’s only a little bit bitter.

He’ll find himself again, eventually. The common version of Wei Wuxian. The servant version. He can still smile, after all, and whistle, and offer to carry the heavy cookpots to save old Madam Xiao the trouble. And at night, while his roommates snore and hog the blankets, he can work up new talismans to hide under the bed. He’s technically not allowed paper or ink, but there are rags aplenty that no one will miss, and it’s not like he hasn’t written in blood before. 

Mediocre, Jiang Cheng’s voice echoes in his brain, half horrified, half disgusted. The cultivation classes all agreed, it’s what he deserves.

He whistles as he hangs the robes out to dry. There’s no power to these songs, no wicked tricks, but he’s forbidden from doing it anyway. You can’t forbid music, he thinks to himself,  laughing at the memory of Wen Ruohan, so superior, so righteous as he spoke on behalf of all the sect leaders, laying down all that is now forbidden. Music is just around. It’s a living thing, and it always has been. It doesn’t give a damn what the mighty cultivators think.

“Wei Ying!” Madam Xiao snaps from behind him. “Finish that laundry and get in here to attend to these dishes. Breakfast ended thirty minutes ago!”

So he hasn’t charmed her yet, but he will. Eventually, someone will call him “Wei Ying” and mean it as affection, not as an insult.

“Yes, Madam, of course! Just making sure the robes are perfect, you know. Nothing but the best for the Gusu Lan Sect!” He notices a hem that he must have scorched in the fire while hauling everything out of the cauldron and scoots subtly in front of it. “See, perfect!”

Madam Xiao mumbles something irritated and moves on.

He gives the hanging robes a last pat, remembering fondly the days when he used to wear something so similar, those months of study before everything went to shit. They never suited him. He always felt like he was dressing up as someone, like a child at a festival, pretending to be the great Zewu-jun. Or maybe Hanguan-jun. He has one great memory of Lan Wangji, the last time he actually used his sword, the feeling of recognizing a skill even greater than his own as they clashed on the rooftop. 

And then word had come from Lotus Pier. And then he had lost the only parents he truly remembers. And then Wen Zhuliu had come out of the shadows, slow and deliberate, like a coming storm, and Jiang Cheng had passed out and—

Well. It doesn’t matter now. He goes into the kitchen and starts scouring out the wok. He thinks one of the cooks is purposely leaving it on the stove too long, letting food cook on to it so he has to practically hack at it with a chisel to get it clean. There’s no way they’re actually serving burnt food to Lan Qiren.

When still he had a golden core, he had such a strong sense of things. The emptiness inside him is still an ache, an infected wound, but he’s learning how to read his new feelings. His instincts. His gut—that’s what the other servants say. A gut feeling. He knows one of the cooks has it out for him, just as he knows that Wen Zhuliu was not acting alone.

Of course, the Wen Clan disowned him, said he had gone rogue. Not a true Wen, after all. But Wei Wuxian knows in his bones that it wasn’t true. But Jiang Chen remembers nothing. Jiang Yanli wasn’t there. And Wei Wuxian will die before he tells the cultivation classes what really happened. It wouldn’t change anything for the better, and would be worse for Jiang Cheng, for Wen Qing, for anyone he truly cares about.

So he works. He is pleasant, he is polite, and he says nothing. What would Lan Qiren say, or Lan Wangji, if they knew he doesn’t even need a Silencing Spell anymore. Who would have thought Wei Wuxian’s greatest talent would be saying nothing.

“Wei Wuxian!” Lin Biming hurries into the kitchen in a swirl of robes and papers just as Wei Wuxian sets the last pot against the wall to dry.

“Master Lin! A pleasure to see you, sir!” He quite likes Lin Biming, mostly for his constantly overwhelmed expression and his comically red face. In another clan, his close confidence with Lan Qiren would be accompanied by some rumor about his parentage, but the Gusu Lan hold themselves above such matters. Wei Wuxian secretly wonders if any Lan are born at all, or if they just rise up out of the Cold Spring as fully formed sixteen-year-olds, blood running clear and icy through their veins.

“Wei Wuxian, you have a new assignment, starting tomorrow. Don’t ask questions, just report to Sect Leader Lan first thing in the morning.” He makes a pained expression. “That means five o’clock. Please do not be late.”

“Master—” but before he can even ask the question, Lin Biming is gone.

A new assignment? Surely they can’t have found something more degrading, more menial than dishes and laundry? Perhaps they need a new gravedigger, or someone in town needs someone to muck out their stables. If there’s anything he hates worse than bad news, it’s bad news on a delay. If he knows it’s coming, he’d rather just get it over with. But of course, there’s a full day of cleaning, scouring, and scrubbing ahead of him, and none of his tasks are consuming enough to calm his racing brain. Maybe the council has changed their mind and he is to be killed after all. Maybe Jiang Cheng has found a backbone or a sense of brotherly love and has come to take him home. Maybe someone noticed the scorched robes and he’s just going to be reprimanded for his carelessness.

He’s too distracted to work on his talisman at night—a variation on a protection charm that’s meant to respond to a person’s voice, something a person can set and then arm with a certain word or a tone. Instead he stares up at the ceiling of the servants quarters, listening to the soft breathing of his companions, his peers, and builds within himself a spine of steel. Whatever it is that is coming, he will take it as he always has. There will probably be some whining, but his back will not bend.

Part 2