the thread may stretch or tangle but it will never break
by Rose Thorne
Disclaimer: I don't own anything associated with The Untamed, and make no money writing fanfiction.
Chapter Twenty Two
Lan Wangji only realizes he fell asleep when he wakes to Xiongzhang's voice softly calling his name from beyond the curtain, his voice edged with a lilt of concern. He eases out from under the blankets, careful not to wake Wei Ying and A-Yuan, and steps out to greet his brother, leaving the curtain open so they can see him if they wake.
Xiongzhang is relaxed, a good sign that the rest of the discussion went well.
"Nie Huaisang roped Wei Qionglin into helping write the poem," is what his brother opens with. "They're writing a yuefu using baihua, so the Jin are likely to ignore or dismiss it as some peasant obsession."
The strategy is brilliant—folk music, particularly that which is written using baihua, is sneered at by the gentry, which would enable it to spread right under their noses, speaking to the common people and possibly even appearing written by common people, which would obfuscate the issue further for the Jin and add to the delay in trying to counter the narrative.
Nie Huaisang is clearly hiding a brilliant mind, to so quickly plan so many steps ahead, and Lan Wangji resolves to never play weiqi with him.
Xiongzhang lays out what occurred after they left, basically a repeat of his own experiences learning of conditions in the work camps, only with the addition of Nie Huaisang being distraught and Nie Mingjue's fury. Now while Nie Huaisang has roped Wei Ning into writing epic poetry, Wei Qing is taking Nie Mingjue, his second, and Jiang Wanyin on a tour of the settlement and safe parts of the Burial Mounds.
"They wish to strategize what aid will be most useful," he finishes.
It's clear Nie Mingjue intends to offer more than expected or hoped for, then, perhaps happy Nie Huaisang's sworn siblinghood will permit him to do so now that he has seen the truth.
Before he can consider a response, he feels a tug on his hanfu.
"Baba?" a sleepy voice asks. "Nap over?"
Lan Wangji picks the boy up. He can see from Xiongzhang's expression that he finds the scene adorable, but he turns his attention to A-Yuan.
"You may sleep longer if you wish," he says.
A-Yuan mulls it over, rubbing his eye with the back of his hand, and then he yawns and nods.
He takes A-Yuan back to the bed and tucks him in again, watching for a moment as he curls closer to Wei Ying and falls back to sleep, still a little amazed he gets to have this, before rejoining his brother.
Xiongzhang seems unbothered by the interruption, perhaps even a little amused by it, but he quickly turns to more serious issues.
"Shufu will not come see you. He insists you will face punishment when you return to the Cloud Recesses," he says softly, his voice regretful.
Even though Lan Xichen is clan leader, he is expected to abide by the counsel of his elders, of which Lan Qiren is one. Xiongzhang is warning him he may not come home, at least until Shufu changes his mind.
The pain he feels over it is somewhat brief; after all, he decided upon staying in the Burial Mounds that his home was Wei Ying, has been making plans to live with him and their son at Lotus Pier. He will always love the Cloud Recesses, though for now it will not have him.
Xiongzhang holds out a qiankun pouch.
"I've packed some of your possessions from the jingshi, some necessities that may make things better here for you and Wuxian. I'll speak with Jiang Wanyin about transferring anything else you wish to Lotus Pier."
Lan Wangji can only nod, a bit overcome. Was this how Wei Ying felt when Jiang Wanyin expelled him from the sect, however much that had been for show—as though the world had tilted, bile in the back of the throat, swallowed like a bitter draught?
He cannot regret what he has now, the fact that he has a husband he has loved since the moment they met, a sweet son whose continued existence is a credit to Wei Ying's honor, who would have died terribly without his intervention.
But the sting is there, and Lan Qiren is a stubborn sort, unlikely to admit to wrongs and likely to hold grudges, having unjustly judged Wei Ying based on the mother his husband barely knew; Lan Wangji knows his own stubbornness is come by honestly, at least, and if Shufu thinks he will abandon his husband based on his misconceptions, he will gladly persevere and show him how it's done, even if it's petty.
"I will give you a list," he says finally, aware Xiongzhang is waiting for an answer and agonizing over this new family strife. "Any furniture Jiang Wanyin feels would help furnish our quarters at Lotus Pier would be welcome, though that may be a more unrealistic undertaking."
Qiankun pouches can only hold what could fit in the opening, after all, and the level of activity would alert Shufu, which Xiongzhang may not want if he's doing this surreptitiously.
"It is no trouble," Xiongzhang replies, telling Lan Wangji that he is either openly defying Shufu, or that Shufu is amenable to his permanent removal from the Cloud Recesses.
Lan Wangji doesn't particularly want to know which is the case at the moment—regardless, his brother is supporting them, which is the part that matters right now.
Xiongzhang takes his leave shortly thereafter, likely to join the tour of the Burial Mounds and help troubleshoot how the rest of their stay will be made more comfortable, and Lan Wangji retreats to the alcove and pulls the curtain closed.
While he should see what Xiongzhang brought and work on a list of what he wishes to have transported to Lotus Pier, Lan Wangji chooses instead to set aside the qiankun pouch and rejoin his husband and son in bed, though he knows his mind is too troubled to sleep. Holding them both close settles his mind a little, and he tallies a mental inventory of the jingshi until Wei Ying stirs.
His husband somehow immediately knows something is wrong, his hand coming up to smooth worry-lines on his brow and then straighten his forehead ribbon before he asks what happened, and although Lan Wangji knows it will deepen the enmity he holds toward Lan Qiren, he tells him anyway, softly so as not to wake A-Yuan.
Wei Ying tries to apologize, as Lan Wangji knew he would, despite none of it being his fault, and he shushes him gently with kisses.
"But your home…" Wei Ying protests, and Lan Wangji knows he is thinking about the loss of the Lotus Pier he grew up with, and the temporary loss of the rebuilt one, a loss he thought was permanent.
"My home is Wei Ying," he says simply, honestly, because no place can replace him.
As is often the case, this sort of open declaration of love makes his zhiji bashful in ways their physical intimacy doesn't, and he murmurs something about his heart and needing warning, a blush spreading across his cheeks.
With A-Yuan still asleep between them, Lan Wangji redirects instead of seeking to make him blush more, telling him of the qiankun pouch he has yet to open, and Xiongzhang's plan to send the contents of the jingshi to Lotus Pier.
"We will make a list together, but it need not be everything," he tells Wei Ying, not wishing his husband to fill their home to be with only his possessions out of a sense of guilt or obligation.
Wei Ying opens his mouth, likely to protest, but A-Yuan stirs from his nap in time to prevent any argument. Lan Wangji resolves to sneak extra dessert to him, now that they have plenty of food and will likely receive more from several sects.
The boy rubs at his eyes and yawns, but is already much more cognizant than he was the last time he woke, as he remembers their visitors and immediately wants to go play with them, giving Lan Wangji a rather amusing mental image of Nie Mingjue crouched in the dirt with a grass butterfly playing with A-Yuan.
Though he knows Wei Ying will likely argue to bring the whole jingshi to Lotus Pier for his comfort later, the reprieve is welcome, as they dress and rejoin their guests in the great hall.
Unsurprisingly, Nie Huaisang immediately ropes Wei Ying into the poetry project Wei Ning is helping with—and Wei Ning has undergone a transformation visually, his hair sleek with hair oil and up in a proper crown, the guan of a Nie design, and in fresh robes rather than the tattered ones he has been wearing. But for the pallor of his skin, he could be mistaken for someone who survived corpse poisoning, and the transformation is striking, the young man looking almost as he had at the Cloud Recesses before the war.
Clearly Nie Huaisang has been busy, as he waves Lan Wangji over and explains the others are still outside touring the Burial Mounds.
"I'm sure Dage found some ferocious yao to play with," he says with no small amount of amusement. "Lady Wei mentioned there were some areas warded off with worthy prey."
Wei Ying lets out an amused snort, already glancing through and somewhat distracted by the sheets of parchment on the table and idly spinning Chenqing.
"He's welcome to them. I just haven't had enough time to tackle that issue yet—farmable land has been the priority here. Hell, if he wants to bring Nie disciples on training missions to those areas, he's welcome to it, so long as no one hurts Wei Ning."
Or energy or health, Lan Wangji knows, though he doesn't comment—his husband's health is no one else's business.
A-Yuan seems to understand he won't be allowed to go play with their guests and will instead need to wait for them to return, and Nie Huaisang helps matters by gifting him a little fan to play with, which almost immediately best friends with the grass butterfly.
Lan Wangji is somewhat torn over whether to stay and engage in poetic discussion or to seek their other guests in case Wei Qing feels overwhelmed, but then he remembers Jiang Wanyin is with her and decides his place is here.
Wei Ning excuses himself to refresh the teapot, taking the packet of tea Nie Huaisang presses on him before leaving at a pace that could almost be considered fleeing, A-Yuan toddling after him asking for a snack. It quickly becomes apparent why when Wei Ying goes still, nearly fumbling Chenqing.
"You're putting it in there?" he asks, his voice tight with anxiety.
Lan Wangji goes to him, glancing at the parchment to see the poem discusses the golden core transfer—even the duration and pain—and then his capture by Wen Chao and subsequent plummet into the Burial Mounds. This explains Wei Ning's haste to leave.
"Jiang-xiong insisted," Nie Huaisang says defensively, his fan fluttering.
Wei Ying lets out a sound between a sigh and a groan, and Lan Wangji moves closer to him under the cover of peering closer at the papers, letting him lean close for comfort. He won't go against Jiang Wanyin on this decision, he knows, and he can see the Jiang sect leader's logic—none could know of Wei Ying's sacrifice and call him evil.
After a few deep breaths, leaning into Lan Wangji less than subtly, Wei Ying eventually sighs.
"Jiang Cheng has the right to decide."
Lan Wangji sits beside him, taking his free hand and rubbing his thumb against his knuckles.
"Wei Ying's honor should be known," he murmurs.
He knows his husband didn't do it for honor; they've had that conversation before. However, his actions show how truly honorable and caring Wei Ying is, and Lan Wangji, selfishly, wishes to hear the common people speak this truth instead of the despicable lies that have spread.
Wei Ning returns with tea, A-Yuan toddling after him with a tray of snacks for all of them. While he pours for them, Wei Ying shoves Chenqing in his belt, grabs the brush from the inkstone and alters a line slightly. Nie Huaisang leans over his shoulder and makes an approving noise.
"Ah, you're right. That would be more what the common folk would say, Wei-xiong."
Wei Ying nods, taking a sip of tea.
"I used to sit near the tea and wine houses. They were warm and had nice music to listen to, and sometimes they'd let me have leftovers."
His voice is distant as he changes a few bits on another line. Nie Huaisang glances at Lan Wangji, who knows his husband rarely speaks of his time on the streets as a child. He squeezes Wei Ying's hand and is met with a wan smile.
"The baihua needs to be believable or someone might catch on that members of the gentry wrote it. We want it to seem organic, right?"
"Right," Nie Huaisang echoes, nonplussed.
Ultimately he joins them on Wei Ying's other side, thanking Wei Ning for the tea before watching as more changes are made, occasionally rewriting entire lines or shifting idioms to be those more in line with commoners' language.
A-Yuan climbs onto Lan Wangji's lap, eager for his snack, red bean mantou, happily occupied. Also available are zongzi with jujube filling, drizzled in honey, which he feeds to Wei Ying while he works, earning an appreciative hum.
Wei Ning excuses himself to start cooking the evening meal, taking a qiankun pouch Nie Huaisang presses on him.
"We're imposing, so we should provide the food," he says when he sees Lan Wangji watching. "And anyway, we're descended from butchers, so we've brought plenty of meat to last you a while."
Nie Huaisang could not have known their intention to invite him and his brother here, so he must have either had the qiankun pouch ready and intended to get it to them somehow, or he filled it in Lanling.
Lan Wangji privately hopes he cleaned out the larder at Koi Tower.
Regardless, the food is welcome, and they will have little need to scrape and go hungry given how much has been provided to them, which will be good for Wei Ying's help.
He focuses on feeding Wei Ying his snack, then wiping off A-Yuan's hands and face, brushing crumbs off his mini disciple uniform, before eating his own zongzi.
It's comfortably calm as he reads over Wei Ying's shoulder, as he makes minor changes to the baihua and altered wording in places for various reasons. Nie Huaisang challenges him on a few of them and they debate poetics. Often Wei Ying wins by pointing out the difference between commoner poetics and gentry poetics, but Nie Huaisang wins a few.
Lan Wangji is happy to hold A-Yuan on his lap as he plays with his grass butterfly and the fan Nie Huaisang gave him, making them hold a little murmured conversation, and let the discussion wash over him. But he notices a factual error himself and points it out, and is drawn in that way on the merits of poetic license versus a need to be close to the truth. (He wins that one.)
By the time Wei Qing and their guests join them, the rest of the Wei clan filing in for dinner, they've added lines in places, removed them in others, and have drafted a fair bit of the rest.
They only notice they have an audience when Jiang Wanyin clears his throat, and Lan Wangji feels like a child caught doing something naughty until he catches Xiongzhang trying and failing to hide a smile—perhaps they've been watching for a while, since he and Nie Huaisang only just finished a debate over certain details describing himself, which he can guess Lan Xichen would find amusing, and Nie Mingjue seems similarly amused.
Honestly, Nie Huaisang is far too interested in flowery language and making use of symbolism referencing his title, and Wei Ying was little help against it, agreeing vehemently that he should be described in the way the common people see him.
A-Yuan squirms down from his lap, abandoning his grass butterflies on the table, to run to his Jiang-shushu and ask to be picked up; Jiang Wanyin obliges with a soft smile on his face.
"Just in time, Dage—we've almost got the whole thing drafted!" Nie Huaisang crows, apparently unbothered by their audience. "Wei-xiong's so much better at baihua than I am, it's unfair."
"Aiya, Nie-xiong, you're better at the poetry part, with all that symbolism, so don't put yourself down," Wei Ying teases, his voice warm and amused, and Lan Wangji can almost imagine they're back before the war, him catching the two of them up to shenanigans at the Cloud Recesses.
Wei Ying's modesty is false, given the number of times Lan Wangji has heard him reference poetry in ways so subtle one not trained in the arts might miss, but he is letting Nie Huaisang save face.
Jiang Wanyin hands A-Yuan to Wei Qing and comes over to check the sheets of parchment, then nods in satisfaction.
"Good, you didn't take it out. Nie-xiong, be sure to put a lot of symbolism in that implies my idiot shixiong is a self-sacrificing idiot."
Nie Huaisang laughs.
"Oh, I took artistic license, so Wei-xiong managed to grow white lotuses in the Burial Mounds."
They debated over that detail for a while, with Wei Ying feeling the implied connection with Guanyin was a bit much, and Nie Huaisang pointing out that his sacrifices for his brother and the now-Weis justified the imagery.
Wei Ying's last-ditch argument was that lotuses would never grow in the Burial Mounds, at which Nie Huaisang snorted and pointed out that he was the exemplification of the Jiang sect motto and the common people would believe he could after he survived being tossed in the Burial Mounds.
The casual reference to what Wen Chao had done to him stopped the argument in its tracks. Wei Ying went quiet, his eyes distant, in a way that made Nie Huaisang fret, assuring Lan Wangji he won't make that mistake again. That time is something his husband has not opened up to him about, which he knows likely means it was so bad he can't yet put it into words.
The white lotus has its own symbolism, beyond the association with Guanyin. The lotus itself is a symbol of purity and enlightenment in art. While white is often associated with death—Wei Ying's jokes about Gusu Lan robes come to mind, as well as Lan Wangji's own fears for the future—the color represents metal in wuxing and is also used to reference innocence or honesty. White lotuses themselves imply purity and enlightenment, and with the poem woven as it is, it adds to the implication that Wei Ying himself embodies those elements.
In Lan Wangji's opinion, he does, but he also knows he is a little biased. The goal, though, is to convince the common people.
He can see the way Xiongzhang's mind follows a similar logical progression.
"Isn't that… blatant?" he asks.
Wei Ying exchanges a look with Nie Huaisang and shrugs.
"It's for the common people—many never learn to read, so most commoner works imply less and say more. There are different levels, of course, but this will be more understandable to the least educated among them."
"Wei-xiong argued against it, and lost," Nie Huaisang says, sounding far too pleased with himself.
"I still don't think they'd grow here," he mutters, still a little petulant.
"Somehow I get the feeling if you tried, they'd grow," Wei Qing tells him with no small amount of wryness; after all, Wei Ying has pushed the boundaries of impossible in simply still living. "It's not like we're on the verge of starvation anymore, so I don't have a problem with you trying."
"I'll send some seed varieties—there are some that aren't edible, but are more hardy," Jiang Wanyin cuts in.
The gesture seems to surprise Wei Ying, and Jiang Wanyin huffs as though put out, looking away and crossing his arms.
"You should have a piece of home with you if you can't come home right away," he adds gruffly.
Wei Ying goes still and silent, his eyes shimmering with emotion a bit even in the dim light of the cave, and he just nods.
The atmosphere is too hushed for a moment, but it's thankfully broken by A-Yuan asking Nie Mingjue about his mustache—or, more accurately, if he can call the Nie sect leader 'Huzi-gege.'
Nie Zonghui fails to hold in a snort, and it instantly shifts the mood. Nie Huaisang giggles behind his fan, Xiongzhang smiles widely, and even Jiang Wanyin can't keep his lips from curving upward.
"You know," Nie Mingjue says, kneeling so he's at A-Yuan's height, "my didi is going to be your die's sworn brother. So I think it's okay for you to call me Bofu."
A-Yuan looks delighted by this, and Lan Xichen pats the boy on the head.
"Your baba is my didi, so you may call me Bobo."
The boy grins. He tilts his head for a moment, then points, to Nie Mingjue, then Xiongzhang, the Jiang Wanyin, and then finally Nie Huaisang.
"Bofu, Bobo, Shushu… Shufu?"
Nie Huaisang waves his fan almost frantically.
"Aiya! You make me sound old. Maybe call me Xiaoshu… Ah, no, that's Wei Ning. Ershu?"
Wei Ying nods, looking overwhelmed again; Lan Wangji knows it's likely because he's been claimed family by the Nie, before the ceremony, even. Family is important to his husband, as he has lost far too much of it. He feels it as an orphan himself.
"Ershu," A-Yuan parrots and nods, then looks at Jiang Wanyin again. "Dashu?"
The Jiang sect leader nods and beckons to the boy, who is all too glad to come be picked up.
Popo wanders in, stopping next to Nie Mingjue and patting his arm affectionately, which tells Lan Wangji the conversation they slept through was very fruitful.
"A-Ning's nearly finished with dinner," she tells them. "He said we have Qinghe to thank for the meal."
Nie Mingjue shoots a somewhat incredulous look at Nie Huaisang, who shrinks behind his fan.
"You knew we'd be coming here," he asks.
"I don't know! I just had it with me, just in case. Like maybe I could pass it to Jin-shao-furen, and she could get it to Wei-xiong. I hoped."
Nie Mingjue just shakes his head and turns to Popo.
"Lao-Wei, we are honored to provide. I look forward to sharing a meal with you."
The address alone indicates respect, and is an acceptance of Wei Ying's adoption of the former Wen remnants, and it eases a concern Lan Wangji didn't know he had.
The rest of the remnants trickle in as dinner time approaches, some carrying steaming plates and tureens, and Nie Huaisang bundles the parchment with the unfinished poem into a pouch in his sleeve, while Wei Ying sets the inkstone and brush aside.
One of the main dishes for dinner is a stewed long feng pei, often served at wedding banquets, which leads to a whispered discussion between the Nie brothers.
"It's like a wedding banquet," Wei Ying murmurs to him, soft and only for him, giving him a dark look that is a tantalizing promise for later.
Nie Huaisang's gentle message through food is touching, as he is clearly throwing them a banquet. Nearly all of the dishes feature meat, from mutton to beef to duck, and even a platter of fish. The sauces are rich and savory.
The dishware is unfamiliar, much better quality than what they have been using.
There's no possibility that Wei Ning prepared all of this, meaning Nie Huaisang brought cooked dishes placed in stasis talismans. Somehow he knew he would be coming to the Burial Mounds, and had prepared this in advance, all without his brother's knowledge. Nie Huaisang has been watching, and he wants them to know—and from the way Wei Qing and Wei Ying exchange subtle looks with him, it lands.
He resolves to taste every dish, even those with meat, out of respect for the dual messages being sent.
Lan Wangji is relieved that Nie Huaisang is helping them. With what this implies about his network, the poem's distribution will be swift, and the work to shift Wei Ying's reputation among the common people will soon begin.
Dinner starts off awkward, but Nie Mingjue helps break the ice by discussing his ideas for handling the warded areas—and he's only too happy with Wei Ying's offer to use them as a training ground.
"Jiang disciples would benefit from such training, as well," Jiang Wanyin comments.
"The Lan would be pleased to join intersect night hunts," Xiongzhang adds. "Strengthening ties is logical now that our sects will be tied through brotherhood."
The message is that aid will be delivered regularly, and there will be the protection of three sects. It will eventually catch the attention of the Jin, but by that time hopefully Wei Ying's reputation will be rehabilitated and Jin Guangshan will be powerless.
Dinner eventually turns perhaps predictably raucous, given that Wei Ying, Nie Huaisang, and Jiang Wanyin are together and wine is available. Older now, Lan Wangji can find some humor in their routine, meant to entertain both themselves and those around them, but it's more in the nostalgia of simpler times, before the war and all it had wrought. Wei Ying turns to him occasionally with a fleeting bittersweet expression, as though he feels similarly.
Wei Qing, he notices, is watching on with a sort of fondness, particularly as they bring Wei Ning into it, though perhaps it's his newly groomed appearance and the reason for it. She has spent dinner at the same table as Popo and Nie Mingjue, discussing the finer points of golden core and meridian research. Lan Wangji was not aware that was one of Chifeng-Zun's interests, but given his father's death by qi deviation makes some sense.
The conversation peters out when A-Yuan asks if he could ride on his bofu's shoulders, and Nie Mingjue was powerless to his charm—though he wasn't so charmed as to not to clean the boy's hands, sticky with a dessert of jellied date candy.
His earlier mental image does nothing to prepare him for seeing Nie Mingjue actually playing with A-Yuan and his grass butterfly and fan. He doesn't seem to mind, which makes sense given the sect leader dotes upon his little brother and partially raised him.
With A-Yuan engaging Nie Mingjue, Wei Qing is able to observe as he has been, for a little while, at least until Xiongzhang slips into the vacated seat next to her.
As hai shi approaches, Lan Wangji can see Wei Ying's energy flagging, likely from a combination of factors. The good and heavy food, combined with his general need of healing, and the fact that they had not done his evening musical acupuncture treatment, perhaps. The wine increased it all. He can't quite keep himself from wincing when he moves in certain ways, is hiding the shakiness of his hands by keeping his wine bottle on the table between sips.
Just as Lan Wangji is considering how to step in, Nie Huaisang gestures to Nie Mingjue, who brings over a sleepy A-Yuan.
It's a socially acceptable reason to retire, so Lan Wangji steps forward and intercepts Popo, telling her they will ready him for bed, and she can retrieve him in a bit. Readying A-Yuan for bed will allow her to enjoy the gathering a bit longer, and she deserves to enjoy it. Wei Ying will need to soak, likely longer than usual, providing ample time to see to the child's nightly routine.
He collects his husband and son, stopping Wei Ying from trying to lift the boy into his arms and instead doing it himself. With the busy day they've had, he'd rather not add to the strain on his body.
Nie Huaisang nods at him, and he realizes his soon to be sworn brother has been monitoring Wei Ying just as he has, and is accommodating his needs by anticipating them, even bringing Nie Mingjue in on it.
An effort to work together toward a common goal of restoring Wei Ying's health, perhaps.
As he lets Wei Ying lean against him, taking part of his body weight, and they head through to the cave, Lan Wangji thinks, whatever his old classmate's plan, whatever conversation occurred while they slept, if it involves helping Wei Ying, he approves wholeheartedly.
Taking a short break from final grading to post this. Thanks to adrian_kres for the beta!
Yuefu is a style of narrative poetry that basically borrows from Chinese folk song traditions. The Ballad of Mulan is an example.
Baihua is written vernacular Chinese, which would be looked down upon at the time compared to Old Chinese, which was more formal. It's definitely not something the gentry would typically engage with.
Most people know weiqi as Go. I suck at that game. The strategy eludes me, so I bet I'd get killed quick in a zombie apocalypse.
Wuxing is the Five Phases, or Five Elements, which is very prevalent in Chinese culture.
Bofu and bobo are both terms for father's older brother, but the first is more formal.
Long feng pei translates to dragon and phoenix and is stewed fish and chicken, at least in Hebei cuisine. Since dragon and phoenix imagery is rife in weddings, it's no surprise this dish often features.
Of course Popo is taking A-Yuan for the night. Nie Huaisang just recreated a wedding banquet.
Other Chinese pinyin translations:
baba = dad
dage = eldest brother
dashu = eldest uncle
didi = younger brother
ershu = second uncle
gege = elder brother
hai shi = the 9-11pm time period
hanfu = robe
huzi = mustache
Lao-Wei = Elder Wei
mantou = steamed bun
shao-furen = younger madam
shixiong = elder martial sibling
shufu = uncle (father's younger brother), formal
shushu = uncle (father's younger brother), informal
xiaoshu = youngest uncle
xiong = brother (in this case an indication of closeness)
xiongzhang = elder brother
zhiji = one who knows you best in this life
zongzi = glutenous rice stuffed with filling and wrapped in bamboo leaves