Zizhen doesn’t mean to wander off. It’s just that, well, Jin Ling and Lan Jingyi have been arguing almost non-stop since the morning, and it’s exhausting. Zizhen doesn’t know how Sizhui deals with it but whatever the method, it’s clearly superior to all meditative thoughts Zizhen has tried so far. So, when his nose catches an enticing, delicious scent wafting from the alley they’re passing, he decides to follow it.
They’re in Caiyi Town and heading to Cloud Recesses after a successful night hunt (yes, it was successful, Jingyi, deal with it), and it’s not like he’s in any way beholden to the Lan. He can take a break. (He needs a break.)
The alley leads to another clearing with a small selection of food stalls. There are buns and tanghulu and skewers, but those aren’t what Zizhen is looking for. He lifts his nose up and sniffs, turns this way and that, and finally catches the scent again.
”What is that?” he asks aloud, following his nose.
”Ah, do you want a sample, young master?” a man asks. He’s wearing strange, foreign-looking clothes and he has an accent Zizhen can’t quite place, but none of that matters because he’s selling something delicious, and Zizhen absolutely wants a taste, yes, please and thank you.
”Yes! Absolutely!” he says, digging money from his purse. ”What is that? I’ve never smelled anything like it!”
The vendor winks and picks up a small clay pot from inside his stall, holding out a hand for the money. Zizhen pays (and doesn’t even dream of haggling) and receives the pot. ”Oh, it’s warm,” he notes.
”You can drink this hot or cold,” the vendor says. ”I personally think it’s better hot.”
Zizhen pries the stopper off, takes a deep inhale, and sips. Warm, sweet, and slightly thick liquid pours from the pot and into his mouth, blowing his eyes wide with wonder. He swallows and the warmth spreads from his mouth into his belly, almost creating a sense of a core radiating warmth and contentment throughout his whole body.
”This is amazing,” he sighs and takes another sip. ”What is this?”
The seller looks smug. ”It’s cocoa, from the far West,” he says. ”And that’s all I’m going to say about it.”
Zizhen lets out a small, pleased sound, closes his eyes, and drinks.
Oh, this is what the Heavens must feel like.
It takes Jingyi several days to check out the area Zizhen had talked about. Some strange vendor selling a sweet concoction from faraway West, the best thing Zizhen had ever tasted, apparently.
”Where the hell did you vanish?” Jingyi had snapped when Zizhen had finally made his way back to them. He’d been annoyed and tired and pissed off at Jin Ling, and it had bled to how he’d addressed Zizhen.
”Oh, I tried a new thing. It was delicious,” Zizhen had said with a dreamy look on his face. It had annoyed Jingyi even more and he’d huffed and continued on, leaving Sizhui and Jin Ling to talk with him.
But the comment hadn’t left him alone, which is why he’s here, now, in Caiyi Town, trying to track down a seller in foreign-looking robes. Ridiculous.
After agonizingly long rounds of asking politely if anyone has seen a foreigner selling strange Western hot beverages, he finds himself in a clearing, facing a man dressed in a very weird combination of robes, stirring embers in the small firepit of his stall.
”So, you,” Jingyi says. ”You’re the one selling the weird drink?”
The man raises a brow. ”Am I?”
Jingyi barely restrains himself from rolling his eyes. ”I heard from my friend that you have a strange, Western drink in your selection. Hot, apparently.” When the man stays silent, Jingyi adds, ”I’d like to try it. Thank you.”
”Okay,” the man says, names his price (ridiculously high, Jingyi grumbles at himself), and hands Jingyi a clay jar. It’s hot to the touch and he hurriedly changes his grip to use his sleeve as an insulator.
The man keeps looking at him expectantly.
Jingyi shrugs, removes the stopper and sniffs carefully. The smell is almost sharp, almost bitter, and he narrows his eyes at the man. This was the best thing Zizhen has ever tasted? Really? However, he isn’t one to back down from a challenge (never mind that said challenge was self-inflicted and no one knew he ever was here), so he braces himself and takes a long pull from the jar.
It’s hot, yes. It’s also just as bitter as the smell indicated, making him sputter and cough. ”What in the seven Hells is this?” he demands, shaking the bottle at the seller. A bit of dark brown liquid splashes from the jar, staining his sleeve. ”This is terrible! It’s not sweet at all!”
The man gives him a confused look. ”I never claimed it to be sweet, good sir,” he says. ”You wanted a strange Western drink. I sold you a strange, Western drink.”
Jingyi opens his mouth to contradict him, realizes the man is correct, and snaps his mouth closed.
”This is coffee,” the man says. ”Quite a delicacy in the far West.”
Yeah, no. Jingyi isn’t going to believe anything the man says. Or anything Zizhen claims, for that matter.