of an old friend who dreamt once of storms on the ocean

The skies above Lotus Pier are streaked in orange with the coming sunset. It brings warm color to the winter landscape of browns and grays but does nothing to stop the chill of the wind. The eponymous lotus blossoms have been harvested for the year and have left the lakes as stretches of still water with thin ice forming along the shorelines.

Lotus Pier is rebuilding. The core buildings had been spared, as the Wen had wanted the best accommodations possible for their supervisory office, but over a thousand homes of the dead had still burned. Now, four years later, there is a ring of new wooden buildings and new piers around Lotus Pier's heart, glowing with lamps to banish the winter gloom. Beyond that is a ring of cleared land interspersed with the occasional towering pile of lumber.

Jiang Cheng, Sect Leader of the Jiang Sect, is walking off the restless energy of being stuck in his office for the entire day by making a quick circuit of the outer paths and lumber piles and inspecting them. He is too busy to be spared for a night hunt and this is the best he'll get.

It isn't helping his mood to be out alone. Not that it would be different to be in the Sect Leader's residence, which also has no one else around. Jiang Yanli, his older sister, has just gotten married and is in Lanling. Wei Wuxian, his...

Wei Wuxian is also gone. And everyone else is dead.

The flute mistakes don't bother Jiang Cheng or ruin his concentration, though he does pick up on them. It's one of the rare benefits of being someone who is merely passable at music compared to someone with perfect pitch. He wouldn't want someone who made so many mistakes performing for an audience while representing him, but Wei Wuxian is neither performing nor a representation of the Jiang Sect's musical teachings.

Jiang Cheng debates for a moment whether to reuse the tea cups, get out clean bowls, or just drink from the jars. He had bought two different varieties with the intent to let Wei Wuxian try both, so not the latter, even if the fact that he'd automatically passed one of the jars over in getting Wei Wuxian's attention has already complicated that plan. It's no great loss - they aren't wildly different varieties - but keeping the option open might be nice if he can arrange it without admitting he made a mistake. As for the other options, he's already put the cups away and wouldn't be able to tell which was which, so he's left with the clean bowl option. What are two more dishes?

Thinking takes enough time that he's still rummaging in his bag for bowls when Wei Wuxian sits down and starts watching him. He slides one over, then pours wine from the jar still near him into his own bowl before setting the jar closer to the middle of the table.

"My Wei Wuxian would have just grabbed a jar and immediately started drinking. Most likely spilling half of the wine over himself in the process. So, good job on being more civilized than your counterpart," he says, because Jiang Cheng does not miss his Wei Wuxian and has no wish to ever see him do any of his familiar habits. And because they aren't standing on any ceremony, he just drinks from the bowl without bothering to come up with a proper toast beyond that.