Part 2 – Disaster at the Crossroads

With all the doors of Yunping City’s restaurants closed to them because of Wei Wuxian’s bad behavior, he, Lan Wangji and the rest of the Lan Sect disciples were forced to dine outside the town proper.

Throwing down their coin at the first shabby foodstand that would take it, the disciples were practically drooling by the time they received their dingy bowls of lukewarm soup. A few limp, pale vegetables bobbed in the greasy brown broth. As accustomed as the Lan youngsters were to bland cuisine, even their fine dignified features were pinched as they forced the pathetic excuse for a meal down their throats. The sect rule ‘Do not waste food’ was written all over their miserable expressions.

Wei Wuxian, however, felt no such compunction. Though he’d shouldered the juniors aside to toss Lan Wangji’s coin at the same seedy vendor, one sip of that foul, tasteless soup, and he expelled it in a brown mist of sheer, unadulterated disgust. Holding the stand owner’s jaded gaze all the while, Wei Wuxian inverted the bowl slowly and emphatically, and let its abominable contents slosh to the ground like the contents of a particularly watery slop-jar.

In the midst of accepting the punishment of their own indiscretions, the Lan juniors watched this uncouth exchange. Tears of vindication shimmered in the eyes of more than a few sufferers. Lan Wangji sighed imperceptibly. Of course he alone had possessed the circumspection not to buy anything at such a dubious place to begin with.

“I told you it would be a waste,” he said to Wei Wuxian.

He didn’t bother to temper the crisp, cold severity of his assessment. At such an elegant, deific-looking person condemning his wares from afar, a spark of actual shame flickered in the owner’s dead-fish eyes. As though he had offended the heavens themselves, the sallow-faced man added an extra log to the stove, took out a few jars of stingily-withheld seasonings, and stirred them into the bubbling slop.

Wei Wuxian grinned. “Yes, yes—as usual, Hanguang-Jun, you were absolutely right! The pickings are slim; it can’t be helped. But surely there is a better option to be found here than this.”

“It can’t be helped?!” Lan Jingyi exploded, as Lan Sizhui held him back.

But Lan Wangji ignored the outburst, which was understandable at any rate. His eyes were soft as he handed his money pouch over to Wei Wuxian’s eager hands.

“Go find something you like,” Lan Wangji said, their fingers meshing together briefly, yet intimately.

With a delighted laugh, Wei Wuxian spun away and started demanding samples from each and every foodstand that lined the crossroads between Yunping, Yiling and Yunmeng. None of the food was ‘good’, in Wei Wuxian’s estimation, but eventually he found a dish that was palatable enough. After paying for it out of Lan Wangji’s purse, he skipped all the way back with meal in hand, oblivious to the stand owner’s shouts about taking off with his bowl and chopsticks.

Sidling up to Lan Wangji, who seemed determined not to order anything from any of these places, Wei Wuxian ate contentedly. Every now and then, he plucked out a choice morsel and offered it to his husband. No matter what Wei Wuxian pressed to his lips, Lan Wangji accepted it with grace, chewing it down in his slow, well-mannered way.

“…Good boy,” Wei Wuxian cooed with hooded eyes. “That’s my dear Lan Zhan.”

Already sweating from the ordeal of the gutter soup, the Lan juniors grimaced all over again, turning an even deeper shade of green.

Mo Dao Zu Shi © Mo Xiang Tong Xiu