Lan Wangji was a tall man. Only a little taller than her brothers, but the way he stood, the perfectly straight line of his spine and neck, made him seem tall enough to touch the clouds.
Jiang Yanli supposed he had often enough.
Standing beside him made her feel small in a way A-Cheng and A-Xian didn’t. When he wasn’t standing behind her with his weight shifted and his hip cocked with a glare that dared the whole world to try to upset her, A-Cheng was leaning forward, body curving in a way that would be looming if not for the gentle look on his face. A-Xian bounced and danced, always bending down to her eye level and twisting to face her like a flower arching toward the sun.
Lan Wangji stood, mountainous, his head only tipping down a fraction, strange gold eyes sifted down to meet hers through long lashes to meet her gaze squarely.
“Lotus pork rib soup?” she repeated, tipping her chin up a little higher and considering lifting herself on the balls of her feet so he would not be looking so very far down at her.
Jiang Yanli lifted one hand to hide her smile behind her sleeve.
“Of course A-Ji, I would be happy to teach you!” Lan Wangji blinked at the endearment, but followed with a biddable “mn” behind her as she lead the way to the kitchen.
The kitchen was empty. Though they did have cooks for special occasions, Jiang sect had long taken pride in self sufficiency. They cooked their own daily meals and brewed their own tea. From disciples taking turns in the larger kitchens of the barracks, to the Jiang clan themselves. Jiang Yanli listed off the vegetables they would need to chop as she reached for an apron, then paused and turned back to Lan Wangji as she realized she was getting ahead of herself.
To her surprise, he easily reached for an apron - indisputably A-Xian’s by the embroidered doodle of Wei WuXian holding a steaming pot - and tied it on over his immaculately white robes and headed for the baskets of fresh lotus pods and vegetables. Jiang Yanli had to press her lips together hard not to laugh, and was surprised to see him select the correct knife and begin to chop them into precise slices.
So she wouldn’t be teaching him to cook, only the recipei.
“A-Ji, you’re so skillful, do you cook often?”
“Mn. Everyday. For Wei Ying.”
Jiang Yanli’s eyebrows rose. “Oh? I thought only servants cooked in Cloud Recesses.” She was sure she’d heard Wei WuXian grumbling about some rule about leaving to a tradesman his own skill that got him in trouble when he’d tried his hand a carpentry when the Wen’s houses were being built on the outskirts of Caiyi. Or was that he’d gotten banned from the kitchens for burning every delicate Lan mouth with a bit of spice?
“I like to make him meals. They make him happy.” Lan Wangji’s voice was even. A simple, irrefutable statement. As had been his unexpected love confession during a visit to Yiling that had begun to clear the darkness from Wei WuXian’s eyes and paved the way for him to leave the Burial Mounds at last.
“Mm, food always makes A-Xian happy.” Jiang Yanli craned her neck to look up at him until he turned toward her and held out a bowl of sliced lotus roots. “But I think you make him happiest of all. Thank you.”
Lan Wangji’s ears reddened and he ducked his head slightly. “No thanks needed.” He didn’t shuffle in place or clear his throat awkwardly, but managed to convey the same pleased embarrassment she so enjoyed teasing out of her brothers.
“What is the next step?” he asked after a minute.
“Well, first-” Jiang Yanli couldn’t stop smiling as she taught Lan Wangji how to make Wei WuXian’s favorite soup. As they fell into a rhythm, she began to hum softly, a song her father had always favored when he was in a bright mood. It made her think of good days.
To her surprise, a deep voice joined hers, effortlessly taking up an accompanying tune that did not drown her softer, higher pitch, but complimented it. The soft, faint smile on Lan Wangji’s face was an even greater surprise.
Oh A-Xian! she thought happily, how lucky you are!
Jiang Yanli spent the rest of the morning in a kitchen full of sunlight and song and taught her brother-in-law to make all of Wei WuXian’s favorite Yunmeng meals. The pleased look warming that normally jade-still face as he hefted a heavily laden tray filled her heart with affection.
As Lan Wangji headed to the rooms he shared with her brother, intent on waking his husband with breakfast and a heart full of love, Jiang Yanli set her feet toward the ancestor hall. She would offer incense and thanks for such a lovely brother-in-law.
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