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Wen Ning has been away for a while, but this evening around dusk, he returns, walking out from the forest as before. At some point when he didn't notice, the stunted firs around the Burial Mounds had given way to healthy trees with zero resentful energy, and then he realised that he'd finally made it back.

It was his third try, actually. He'd already wandered the woods around his home twice, big basket of radishes in one hand, the yellow napkin with the smiley sun face from the bar in the other, and both times, he's eventually arrived back at Demon Subdue Cave without having found a way to that lovely other world.

But now it worked!

He still has the basket in one hand (looking a bit absurd, as it's a large basket full of large radishes, warded with a few stasis talismans so they wouldn't wilt while Wen Ning kept trying, and he's dangling it like it was a tiny pouch full of eiderdowns) and the yellow napkin in the other, and when he steps out of the woods by the lake, a bright happy smile appears on his very pale face.

Yangguang-guniang* will finally have her promised radishes, and if Wen Ning is lucky, she will have made sweets he can smuggle back to little A-Yuan, even better than the ones he brought before. A-Yuan needs cheering up as it is, because he's still out of sorts because of that single lotus sprout.

There is so much hope and help in this place.

[[* OOC: Couldn't resist this; she'll have a perfectly lovely and acceptable title name in Chinese, so Wen Ning will think of her that way.]]

tinytag: wen ning

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If he ventures into the bar room proper, he'll certainly find the baker sitting at a pretty centralized table, reading a book while the tray of various baked goods on the table advertise themselves for sale.

He does venture there quite soon as he's planning to sell to the bar all the radishes that neither the Young Lady Sunshine nor Abe no Seimei nor the cooking doctor wants, and then take back the money to Wei-gongzi and his sister. They were quite happy with what he brought home the last time.

"Lady Sunshine!" he exclaims, lightly swinging the large, heavy basket with a flick of his wrist. "I have radishes for you, and am so glad to find you here!"

He puts down the basket and bows.

"Oh, Wen Ning, hello!" Sunshine looks up from her book, smiling. "It is good to see you again. Come, have a seat. Those radishes look great."

Wen Ning smiles at her and then comes to sit at her table, putting one of the largest radishes on it. "They are very fresh," he says. "I especially got some stasis talismans from Wei-gongzi and put them on so they couldn't wilt on the way."

"What a good idea," she grins, with light, cheerful jealousy. "I've often coveted the Bar's ability to keep baked goods hot and fresh long after they would've otherwise gone cold. May I take a look?"

Sunshine gestures towards the radish on the table, curious to get a closer look, and a better sense of what it could be made into.

"Of course!" Wen Ning agrees, bending down to the basket and handing her one of the talismans.

They are ornately messy calligraphy, in red ink, on long yellow pieces of paper.

"Thank you," Sunshine accepts the talisman, holding it lightly as her gaze travels over it. To her Dark Sight, strange shadows wreath the paper and most especially the bright red edges of the calligraphy.

"Different, of course, but it reminds me a lot of the wards we use back in my world," she remarks, trying to follow the shifting shadows and not being surprised to find that she can't. Rae smiles, offering the talisman back to Wen Ning. "Folks ward their homes, their technology, themselves... anything to help protect, or preserve, or warn against harm."

It is a world with a lot of harms to choose from.

"That's exactly what we do as well,“ Wen Ning says eagerly. "Wei-gongzi has our home, such as it is, warded to the gills. He's made us wards that don't even legitimately exist. And making wards for the private homes of mundanes is one of the jobs cultivators, especially rogue cultivators, earn their living with."

Sunshine listens, and nods. "Few people back home would leave their homes unwarded unless they had absolutely no choice."

Wards were just behind food, medicine, and the home itself in terms of importance.

"Wardsmithing is a big industry in my world, and you've got lots of third-, second- and first-class wardsmiths for every one Wardskeeper - who are allowed to invent and create any ward they put their minds to," she replies, thinking of the myriad shadows that congregate upon nearly every surface in Yolande's part of the house.

"I get the feeling that... cultivators in your world are like magic-handlers, in mine. Can I ask what makes a cultivator a rogue cultivator?"

"They belong to none of the cultivation sects, neither major nor minor," Wen Ning says. "Instead, they work on their own. Many of them use the title Sanren, wanderer. Baoshan Sanren is the most famous one; she has cultivated to immortality and lives on a mountain. She's taught legends like Cangse Sanren, mother of our Wei-gongzi, or Xiao Xingchen."

"Wow," she breathes, impressed. "I've heard that extensive magic-handling can lengthen one's life - if it doesn't go wrong and kill you, of course - but I don't know of anyone who has gained immortality from it, in my world. Though I suppose it's not the sort of thing they'd advertise, if they had," she adds.

Chances are that someone would take it as a challenge.

"What are - and I don't mean to bombard you with questions when you've been kind enough to bring me radishes to buy," she is certainly looking forward to experimenting with them in the kitchen. "But what are the cultivation sects? What differentiates them?"

"Oh, that is easy," Wen Ning says. "Cultivation sects are schools of cultivators, led by a traditional family, and their outer disciples. There were five Great Sects, now four. Lanling Jin, now the most powerful one, famous for being rich and ruthless. Yunmeng Jiang, of Lotus Pier, known for striving for the impossible, where our Wei-gongzi grew up after his parents died. Qinghe Nie, who cultivate with sabres instead of swords and often come to a terrible end by qi deviation because they handle too much angry power. Gusu Lan, they of the 3500 rules, famously holding summer school each year at Cloud Recesses, calm and aloof, specialising in music cultivation."

Pause.

"And Qishan Wen, fire and sunlight, who had their seat, the Nightless City, in an active volcano. They attacked all the other clans, and were taken down in the Sunshot Campaign. We're a branch of that family, the Dafan Wen; we are healers, not fighters. We're the only Wens that survived because Wei-gongzi took us to the Burial Mounds near Yiling."

Edited 2020-08-05 17:07 (UTC)

"Shiva wept," Sunshine breathes, as Wen Ning finishes. "That's a lot to go through. I'm sorry your people have suffered so, and hope you can find your footing again."

"The sects sound a little like the great magic-handling families in my world. There are a good number, but I wouldn't say there are lots of them. And there are fewer than there were, certainly. The Blaises were top-dog a few generations back, sure, but they all but disappeared seventeen years ago, at the start of the Wars. Some of the families specialize in one form of magic-handling or another, but most of the families just let their individual family members find their own areas of strength."

"Many people do," Wen Ning says. "Of course, the outer disciples join whatever sect suits them best. But if you're born a Jin, Jiang, Nie, Lan or Wen, the options are narrower. Of course, you can always leave."

"If they leave, they are considered rogue cultivators? Wanderers?" she asks, a slightly thoughtful look on her face.

"Unless they join another sect, they are," Wen Ning says. "It's a good life, away from sect politics, which can get a little out of hands."

Murderously so, his tone implies.

Edited 2020-08-07 11:49 (UTC)

"Sounds like it," she agrees, a little grim, considering Wen Ning and his group are the only Wen that survived some recent politics getting out of hand.

"Would you like something to eat? I've been baking, this morning." The tray on the table holds a rather grand assortment of baked goods, it's true.

"Oh yes, thank you," Wen Ning says. "I don't know what half of this is, but it smells wonderful."

Talking about food is perhaps better than talking about what the Wen did, and what the Jin then did, and what the Jiang and Lan and Nie kept quiet for...

"The big ones are cinnamon rolls," Sunshine smiles, wry. "My best-sellers, along with the Killer Zebras, and Bitter Chocolate Death."

She makes sure to point out each kind of pastry or cake or confection as she names it, knowing full well that sometimes the names don't clearly indicate which they apply to.

"I also made some Primordial Fudgecake, Meringuamania, and Lemon Lechery."

"They are all sweets?" Wen Ning. "May I try the thing you call cinnamon roll?"

Edited 2020-08-07 22:30 (UTC)

"Of course," she replies with a smile, moving her book aside and plating up one of the cinnamon rolls. "And yes, they're all sweet, today. I do savory breads and baked goods, too, but my favorites to make are sweet. That and they tend to sell better here."

Wen Ning accepts the plate, then asks, shyly, "Erm, how should I eat that? I never had anything like it."

She looks surprised, a bit. "Some folk prefer to eat it with a fork...." probably not helpful, Sunshine, "but most use their fingers to tear off pieces to eat. They're... not entirely a neat food to eat."

Wen Ning picks up the cinnamon roll and tears off a piece, then eats it. There are crumbs and sugar on his fingers and around his mouth.

"Forks are those miniature pitchforks?“

Sunshine wonders if cinnamon rolls taste differently, to one with such smoky shadows.

"Yes, those are forks. They're the most common eating utensil where I'm from," she admits.

"We use chopsticks," Wen Ning says. "Small sticks that elongate your thumb and fore-finger too grip the food more cleanly."

"Much more cleanly," she chuckles, wryly. She knows how messy her desserts can sometimes be. "I've used chopsticks... a few times? More than twice, but very rarely, and I'm not terribly skilled with them."

"It would be sort of interesting to try and eat this kind of food with them," Wen Ning ponders.

"It would be," Rae agrees. "I'd probably have difficulty, either in lifting a cinnamon roll or tearing pieces off."

"I could likely manage a Lemon Lechery or a Meringuamania." They're small and just giving enough that she could lift them without too much trouble.

Wen Ning smiles, then asks the bar for chopsticks, the pointy variety.

He then pokes into the cinnamon roll in strategic places, then shakes it a little like a dog worrying at its prey, and a piece comes off, which he eats.

A lot of crumbs and sugar come off as well, flying as far as his hair and robe.

"Feels better, is actually worse," Wen Ning admits, sheepishly.

Sunshine looks mildly crestfallen. "I'm sorry."

"Maybe try a Meringuamania? They're more... bite-sized."

"Oh, no!" Wen Ning says, horrified. "That's not what I meant at all. Forgive my clumsy words, Yangguang-guniang!"

He stands and bows, very contrite.

"This is delightful and delicious; I'm just very bad at eating it. Perhaps I should forgo civilisation and just bite off pieces?"

Sunshine looks startled, and holds up her hands, shaking her head. "No, no. Don't worry about it - there is no being 'bad at eating' when it comes to cinnamon rolls. I just didn't want you to be uncomfortable with how messy they normally are. It's... not something I had actually thought about. They're mostly designed for forks, or for hands and many napkins, but you eat in whatever way makes you most comfortable."

Wen Ning bows to her again, then picks up the cinnamon roll and just takes one large, strong bite out of it.

Sunshine's eyebrows rise in surprise. What a bite! But did he like it? Maybe she should have offered something neater, first.

She... gathers napkins, just in case.

Wen Ning keeps chewing, as it was indeed a rather large bite, and nodding enthusiastically while still unable to speak.

Oh, if their enemies could see the Yiling Patriarch's dreaded Ghost General now!

She smiles, chuckling. "That was a big bite. I take it you approve, though?"

"Hmmmmm!"

He nods very enthusiastic, hair flying, as he still chews.

Maybe he will take a smaller bite next.

"I'm glad," she smiles. "Feel free to taste-test any of the baked goods that catch your eye, to see what little A-Yuan might like."

Surprising no one, Sunshine is absolutely onboard with a semi-sorta-adopted-uncle-guardian-or-similar sneaking sweets back to kids.

"And we should talk radishes, eventually."

"Perhaps some of the smaller ones," Wen Ning muses. "And yes. Let's talk radishes. How many do you want?"

Sunshine grins, wry. "How many you got?"

She wants enough to try out with multiple recipes, and certainly some to experiment with.

"A big basket full of them, about two dozen," Wen Ning says.

"And they all look good," she says, considering.

"I'd happily buy a dozen or so," Rae decides, smiling. "I want enough to try out some established recipes with, get to know them as an ingredient, and then do some experimentation with, too."

She'll likely buy more later.

Wen Ning stands and bows deeply to her.

"I am very happy to do business with you. What would you like to give me for it?" he says, only belatedly remembering that Wei-gongzi had told him to always set his own price, and make it a bit outrageous. Wen Ning has nothing of Wei Wuxian's sheer insolence; in fact, he is rather shy, if occasionally excitable.

Sunshine opens her mouth, pauses, and closes it. She knows about how much a bunch of small radishes would cost per pound, in her world, but she also knows that life is too short to bother too much with inter-world currency exchange rates.

"Any dollar amount I'd name - dollars being the currency where I come from - would probably mean little to you. And likewise for me, if you suggested a price in currency from your time and place," she says, considering.

"We might ask the Bar for help? If you told her what you'd normally ask for a radish, I could ask her to deduct twelve times that amount from my tab and transfer it to yours?"

"Oh yes, that is a good idea," Wen Ning says. "Very fair!"

That way, Wei-gongzi can't possibly find fault with his bargaining abilities.

"That's what I was going for," she smiles, moving to stand up. "Let's ask the Bar."

Wen Ning picks up one radish and walks over to the bar to tell her his asking price.

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