#zhao yunlan was too busy to wash the dishes

[missfangirll]

Ad astra per aspera

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Fandom: Guardian Relationship: Shen Wei/Zhao Yunlan, Da Qing/Ye Zun Tags: Fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fix-it, Getting Together Words: 3001 Summary: The revelations keep coming. 

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Da Qing heaved a long-suffering sigh as he bent to pick up his crumpled t-shirt from the floor, throwing a glance at Ye Zun from the corner of his eye. The other was busy sorting the laundry into three large piles and Da Qing couldn’t quite suppress an eye-roll at the sight. Ye Zun had, naturally, never used a washing machine before he moved in, but had spent hours reading the manuals online - because Da Qing didn’t have them anymore, who keeps stuff like this anyway, Ye Zun? - and was now very confident about the correct way to use it, which included the perfect amount of detergent and the fact that certain colours weren’t allowed in the same wash. Da Qing had barely managed to bite back a comment on how that was exactly how his brother dealt with things he didn’t understand, but secretly he was a tiny bit impressed how fast Ye Zun adapted. Still, his obsession with cleaning was… something. 

Sighing, he threw the t-shirt onto one of the piles, making Ye Zun startle, then furrow his brow. Indignantly, he grabbed the offending item with two fingers and placed it onto another pile, all the while staring at the cat. Grinning, Da Qing stuck out his tongue, sauntering off to the kitchen to make tea.

Living with Ye Zun had proven to be… interesting, to say the least. Zhao Yunlan and Da Qing were kindred spirits in many things, so naturally they agreed on their take on cleaning, too. Which meant that, before Shen Wei’s merciless cleaning sprees, they had been very happy in their own mess, but now he discovered Ye Zun had more in common with his brother than he admitted. He had Shen Wei’s penchant for a spotless environment, liked the apartment to be neat and tidy, but combined this with an obsessive streak his brother didn’t have (or didn’t show, at least). Ye Zun had a manic aura around him in almost everything he did, and Da Qing teased him relentlessly for it, even though he was secretly glad to have someone clean the fridge and throw out spoiled food when he forgot to do it again. 

Additionally, he was a surprisingly good cook, moving about the small apartment kitchen with a graceful ease that always reminded Da Qing of his deadly precision on a battlefield. He couldn’t for the life of him operate a microwave or an electric rice cooker, but showed astounding intuition when it came to actual cooking. (Da Qing had tried to wheedle out of him where he had learned it, but he had stayed stubbornly silent and ignored the cat until he gave up.)

Grinning to himself, Da Qing turned on the kettle, then portioned the tea into the pot, when he felt someone flick the back of his head hard. Startled, he whirled around to complain when he saw the other’s eyes. Sparkling with mischief, they looked even more radiant than usual, and suddenly he had to swallow. Ye Zun smirked, then forced his face into a stern frown, glaring at the cat. His eyes still sparkling, he raised the hand he had been holding behind his back, shoving the object in it into Da Qing’s face. Spluttering, he took a step back, only to see the dirty sock fall down between them. Ye Zun cackled. “That’s for leaving them everywhere,” he said with a wide grin, then turned around to leave for his laundry pile. Da Qing pounced. When he hit the other’s back and threw his arms around his shoulders, Ye Zun stumbled, his arms flailing. After two staggering steps, they both toppled headfirst into the laundry, their fall somewhat cushioned by the clothes. 

Laughing, Da Qing pressed his whole weight to the other’s back, trying to immobilise his arms as well, while Ye Zun sputtered indignantly and tried to shake him off. They rolled down from the pile, and even though Ye Zun had lost his dark energy, he still was agile and strong, and thus managed to pin the cat effectively under him, grinning down with a dangerous glimmer in his eyes. 

Before he could say anything, however, they were interrupted by a loud knock on the door. Startled, they looked at each other, then at the door, then hastily scrambled away from each other to get to their feet and to the door. Upon opening it, a middle-aged woman glared at them, and before they could even manage a greeting, started yelling. “I don’t know what exactly you are doing,” she spat, the emphasis on the last word making it sound suggestive, “but you have to stop doing it on the floor.” She looked knowingly at their dishevelled state and huffed, but before she could continue, Ye Zun interrupted her. “We are not,” he had to clear his throat, “not what you… seem to think.” Sensing that he started to flounder, Da Qing chimed in. “We are roommates,” he clarified, “and we just moved in, so we apologise for disturbing you. It won’t happen again.” He bowed slightly, nudging Ye Zun to do the same. Straightening up again, Da Qing noticed that the woman’s gaze had changed somewhat. “Roommates,” she said slowly and gave Ye Zun a strange look, who nodded hastily, glancing at Da Qing. Before either of them could add anything, the woman nodded to herself, then bowed quickly and left. Da Qing turned to look at Ye Zun, who looked equally confused. Shrugging, he took a step back and closed the door.

Da Qing had almost forgotten the whole incident, until two days later he stepped out of the apartment and stumbled over something in front of the door, barely able to prevent a fall. Cursing loudly, he turned to look at what had caused his almost-accident, when he stilled. On the doormat, there was a huge pile of neatly wrapped gifts in different sizes, some flowers, stuffed teddy bears and chocolates, all of it in various shades of pink. On closer look, he noticed a name tag on one of the larger presents: To the pretty cat-owner with the silver hair. He snorted, first indignantly at the thought of Ye Zun as his owner, then with the mental image of his roommate’s middle-aged fanclub. Giggling, he scooped up the presents and stepped back into the apartment where he dumped them unceremoniously over an unsuspecting Ye Zun who sat on the couch. “What the…?”, he began, but Da Qing just snorted, “From your fanclub,” and turned around to leave for the SID.

After this, they kept finding little gifts and trinkets on their doorstep on a weekly basis, never signed, but always addressed to Ye Zun in various degrees of admiration. Ye Zun never acknowledged them, just took the chocolate to the SID and threw the rest away without a second glance, but after the third week Da Qing began to feel irked. He stubbornly avoided thinking about that fact (and what it meant) and kept teasing Ye Zun with his fanclub, but somehow he felt more uneasy the more gifts they found. 

He didn’t want to investigate these feelings further, he decided when he found yet another teddy bear on the threshold, but couldn’t bring himself to tease Ye Zun when he silently handed him the gift. However, Ye Zun didn’t even look at it, but kept his eyes on Da Qing, slightly raising one of his dark eyebrows. “What?” he asked, but the cat just shrugged. Then he added, “Why don’t you keep them?” Ye Zun’s eyebrow climbed even higher. “Why would I?” he asked, sounding incredulous, as if the thought had never occurred to him. “I don’t know,” Da Qing tried to explain, “they are gifts from someone who obviously wants to meet you. And it’s probably the neighbor’s daughters who keep sending them, not their mother, so why….” He trailed off, gesturing vaguely. “Why don’t I want to meet someone who apparently has no boundaries and likes me because of my looks?” He blinked at Da Qing, who just shrugged again. “Are you serious? I don’t even like them. I probably would keep the gifts if they came from someone I like, I don’t know, you or my brother, but not these creepy women.” He shook his head and got up to discard the teddy bear, not noticing Da Qing’s frozen face. The cat just stared after him open-mouthed. 

Someone I like.

Someone like you.

Oh. - - - - - - - -

Thinking back on his previous life in the Rebel camp, Ye Zun found that he’d had some vastly different ideas about living with other people. For once, he had never lived with someone he trusted, except from his brother of course, and found that it improved his life significantly. 

Da Qing was, objectively, a lousy roommate: He was undeniably messy, loud, and demanding, also left his dirty laundry everywhere and couldn’t be bothered to clean after himself, at least not without Ye Zun nagging him about it. 

Objectively, it should have been a nightmare. It was anything but. 

Yes, they had regular fights about dishes and laundry, some of them ending with Ye Zun shouting and throwing things at Da Qing (which had made one neighbor so angry that she had to be bribed with some home-made cupcakes, which in turn just added to Ye Zun’s gift pile the next morning), but he secretly enjoyed their banter. Da Qing gave as good as he got, but he never aimed to hurt, keeping the teasing light and in turn, Ye Zun kept nagging about the state of the apartment and nothing else. 

They had reached a mutual understanding of things the other didn’t want to talk about, and kept to these boundaries. Da Qing never mentioned Ye Zun’s powers, while the other avoided the fact that Da Qing sometimes felt abandoned by his master, even though he only admitted to this while drunk. They trusted each other, entrusted each other with their weaknesses and vulnerabilities, and even though he wanted to strangle the cat twice a day, he felt himself get closer, open up to him. It was exciting and frightening at the same time, to let another so close, but he felt safe with Da Qing, safer than he had ever before in his life.      

Their truce held until one night of drinking.

It had started rather unremarkable, with Da Qing immersed in the game on the screen and Ye Zun playing on his phone, but then Ye Zun had made a snide comment on Da Qing‘s favored team, which had made the cat first bristle and then declare that when his team lost, he would never drink anything again, but in case of a win Ye Zun had to play a drinking game with him. Ye Zun had known this was a bad idea, but the score was 0:3 and so he had agreed to this proposal. They had won 4:3, of course, and Da Qing had been very smug about this as he handed Ye Zun a glass with a dubious mixed drink.

Some refills and embarrassing stories later Ye Zun felt pleasantly fuzzy and ready for bed, but Da Qing was really out of it. He had been a few glasses ahead when they started and now looked worse for wear. With a slight smile, he tucked the grumbling cat in on the couch and went for the bathroom. He couldn't be bothered to look for his pyjamas, and returned to the bed in just a t-shirt and briefs.

He staggered to a halt in front of the bed, his fuzzy brain too slow to process the sight.

Normally, Da Qing slept in cat form on whatever surface he deemed worthy of his furry butt, and they even had shared the bed before, but Da Qing had never been in human form for it. Now, however, the cat wasn't a cat, and lay sprawled on the bed, face down, arms and legs spread, still almost fully clothed.

Ye Zun‘s treacherous heart skipped a beat. Stomping down on the strange feeling that had begun spreading in his stomach, he contemplated his options. The couch was not that comfortable: Since Zhao Yunlan had moved his giant leather monster to the new house, he and Da Qing had bought a new one, which was great to spend a relaxing evening, but not wide enough to sleep comfortably on. So, the bed… He looked at the other, taking in the almost unnervingly still form. Da Qing had somehow lost his shoes, but still wore his pants and a t-shirt, his hair in a messy halo on the pillow. He had his head slightly turned, so Ye Zun could see his dark lashes fanning his cheek, his mouth slack with sleep. He swallowed hard, looking back to the sofa. If he slept on it, he’d most likely wake up with a sore neck, not to mention his back would kill him in the morning. Plus, they had shared the bed in the past, he tried to convince himself. No big deal.

Exhaling with a deep sigh, he bent down. “Move over,” he muttered, and as Da Qing didn't move, he shoved at his shoulders to get the covers from under him. Draping it over the cat, he crept in as well, facing the room.

He felt Da Qing’s warm breath on his neck, followed the soothing rhythm and was almost asleep himself, when the cat stirred. In a clumsy motion, he put an arm over Ye Zun’s waist and drew him closer, nestling his face in the other’s neck. Wide awake, Ye Zun didn't dare to breathe. His heart fluttered like a hummingbird in his chest, he felt the heat spread from his neck over his whole body, but at the same time his stomach tightened in… in what, panic, shock, distaste? He didn't know, but it made it hard to think straight. Frozen he lay there, unable to breathe or move, his whole body thrumming in sync with his heartbeat, every point of contact burning his skin through the thin fabric of his shirt.

He didn’t know when he had fallen asleep, but at some point he had, because he woke to someone poking his shoulder. Blinking slowly, he took in the sight before him, his brain not fully operative. They had gravitated towards each other in the night, it seemed, because he now had Da Qing’s hand in his, clutching it to his chest, while their noses almost touched. As realisation sunk in, he recoiled with a start, letting go of the other’s hand as if he had burned himself, eyes wide in panic. Da Qing just grinned at him. “Good morning,” he said, showing his teeth in a wide yawn. Without a response, Ye Zun scrambled out of bed and fled to the bathroom, his heart pounding in his ears.

A knock on the door startled him. He had been staring unseeing at his image in the mirror, when he heard a soft question from outside. “Are you alright?” He inhaled shakily. Not trusting his voice, he just hummed, hoping the other would take it as confirmation and leave. But of course, his obnoxious roommate wouldn’t budge. 

“I made you coffee,” he heard, no trace of the teasing tone he had come to expect. Da Qing sounded soft, gentle, almost unsure, and somehow that made his stomach tighten even more.

Closing his eyes, he turned on the faucet to splash his face with cold water, hoping that would help clear his head and maybe also make the cat leave. Unfortunately, neither of these happened, and with a sigh, he turned to open the door.

Da Qing stood in front of it, two mugs in hand, wordlessly offering one to him. Careful not to touch the other’s fingers, he took it and made his way to the couch, not able to hold his gaze. Hesitating for a second, Da Qing turned and made his way over to the couch as well, sitting on the other end. Ye Zun felt his eyes on him when he asked again, “Are you alright?”, but couldn’t meet his gaze, stubbornly staring into his mug. “Hm,” he replied vaguely, trying to find something to say that would make the situation less awkward.

Da Qing sighed. “Are we going to talk about it?” Ye Zun blinked at him. “Talk?”, he managed to press out. The other sighed again. “Look,” he began, and Ye Zun’s heart stuttered and came to a stop. “I don’t know what you think this means,” Da Qing continued, motioning to the bed, “but as far as I’m concerned, it can mean anything, or nothing at all.” He fixed Ye Zun with a look the other couldn’t quite place. There was hope in it, but also defiance, stubbornness, and vulnerability. Ye Zun swallowed. “What.. What does what mean?”, he managed eventually, sounding hoarse. Da Qing closed his eyes in frustration, then bit out, “What do you want, Ye Zun?” Averting his eyes, he couldn’t find an answer to this. Sleeping next to the cat had been equal parts exhilarating and terrifying, he had felt held and confined at the same time, the other’s embrace suffocating, but also safe, his touch burning, but also soothing. It had been the best and worst experience of his life, and he still could feel the other’s touch, his warm breath, and he wanted. But at the same time, he was so afraid of it, of the burning closeness of another’s soul. He didn’t know how to voice any of this, if he even wanted to, and so stayed silent. Da Qing let out a low groan, then forcefully placed the mug on the coffee table. “Okay,” he said with finality, “then it means nothing.” With a look at Ye Zun, who had slumped into the couch, he stood up, changing into cat form, and leaped out of the open window. Ye Zun drew in a shaky breath, his eyes burning, his stomach in a tight knot.

Previous Chapter - - - - - -

Some notes: Maybe you noticed, but I changed the chapter titles. It was supposed to be six chapters, corresponding to the phases of grief: shock, anger, guilt, grief, and hope, chapter 6 being love.. I thought that made sense, since the title is "Through hardship to the stars", so he would have to overcome hardships. But Ye Zun decided he was done grieving in the second chapter and wanted to enjoy life 😁 (Or I discovered I write better fluff than angst, ehem 😁), so the whole thing changed its course a bit... I still keep the general plot idea (did someone mention the Regent?), but it's going to be lighter and happier, I suppose... (Can't promise anything tho, Ye Zun is a moody bitch 😁😁) Until I can come up with some good names, the chapters won't have individual titles. If you want to suggest some, feel free 😁😁

[surreality51]

Thoughts on Hot Pot

For anyone who’s never had Chinese hot pot, which is similar to Japanese shabu shabu, you might be wondering about this dish that our dear Zhu Yilong has a love affair with.

It’s a very common Chinese dish that you can eat at home or go out to a restaurant to eat. I’m sure there are high-end hot pot restaurants out there that serve wagyu beef and such, but for the most part, hot pot is considered a casual, homey dish. I don’t think anyone would hold a business dinner at a hot pot restaurant, for example.

Wikipedia has a pretty good rundown of common hot pot ingredients, regional styles, etc. Here I thought I’d share some sociocultural notes on hot pot:

Hot pot is social

I don’t think anyone would eat hot pot by themselves, because then you’re just eating soup. It’s also a pain in the butt to put together—all the ingredients you have to lay out, waiting for the soup to boil, washing all the little plates afterward. It’s not something you would make if you’re just cooking for one. Hot pot, like fondue, is meant to be shared.

Hot pot is slow food

You wouldn’t eat hot pot if you’re looking for a quick bite. Hot pot is meant to be savored. You put a little bit of food into the pot, you pick out something that’s already done while you’re waiting for the food to cook, you chat in the meantime. You cook as you go, and if the soup base dries up, you add more. Hot pot is ideal for lingering around a table with friends and family.

Hot pot is communal

In most cases, everyone eats from the same pot. There are restaurants where each person gets their own pot and burner top, but that’s not the typical set up. Usually you have one big pot or a single pot that’s divided so you can have 2 soup bases, i.e. one plain and one spicy, set in the middle of the table, with the ingredients arranged on small plates around it. You each put what you want into the pot and take what you want out of it. It’s okay to take out something that you didn’t put in. You might purposely put in more of an item than you would eat yourself, and encourage others to take some. You might even serve them yourself by placing the cooked item on their plate, as an expression of caring*. Hot pot is as much about the people gathered around the table and the communal experience you share as it is about the food. The food provides an excuse to gather and linger (although it is pretty tasty too, IMO).

 If I had to guess, I would guess that our dear ZYL enjoys hot pot as much for the taste as for the opportunity to spend time hanging with friends, whom he probably doesn’t get to see much while he’s filming. Hot pot is ideal for introverts, because you share it with people you’re close to, in a small group setting, and you have time for long and deep conversations.

*In general, Chinese people use food to express all kinds of emotions, but especially care/love. It took me an embarrassing amount of time to realize that whenever my dad asked me “Are you full? Did you eat enough?” at the end of a meal, what he was really asking was “Are you happy? Do you know that I love you?”

*Hmm…this thing about serving people food as an expression of caring could use some further unpacking, probably in a separate post. It might be worthwhile to go back through the Guardian drama to analyze the role of food on the show, and see how many instances there are of Shen Wei serving Zhao Yunlan food. (Or Zhao Yunlan straight up stealing Shen Wei’s food.)