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fandomweekly2022-12-28 05:39 am
curiosity) wrote in fandomweekly2022-12-28 05:39 am
Entry tags:
[#159] Splash From the Past (MDZS)
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Theme Prompt: #159 - Memory
Title: Splash From the Past
Fandom: MDZS
Rating/Warnings: Gen | Implied dysfunctional family.
Bonus: Nope.
Word Count: 660
Summary: A phone call brings up an old memory.
Jiang Cheng ran through the house, skidding in his socks across the hardwood. He snatched the phone off the cradle and crashed into the couch.
Breathlessly, he gasped out, “Hello?”
“A-Cheng.”
Just his name was enough to take him back. Barefoot on an old wooden dock, racing to the edge, jumping off the end into the sun-dappled lake. Summer heat baking the air, cool water encasing him like a hug. Bobbing up, a laugh on his lips, looking for his father, wanting to hear his father’s praises for such an impressive jump.
But there was no one else on the dock. He was alone. No one was watching him.
“Dad.”
A soft scoffing. “You let the phone ring so long, I was beginning to wonder if you were going to answer at all.”
“Dad, why are you calling me?”
“When are you coming home, A-Cheng? It’s been too long.”
Jiang Cheng frowned, his chest feeling tight. “The last time I was home, you said you didn’t have time to be bothered with me. What changed?”
“Don’t talk back to your father,” Jiang Fengmian said, voice mild but his tone was full of parental disappointment. “It’s a simple question, A-Cheng.”
“I didn't have any plans to visit your house, Father,” Jiang Cheng replied.
“I see.” More disappointment. “Your brother is finally coming home and you can’t even show your face. I see how it is.”
Jiang Cheng was genuinely surprised. “Wei Wuxian is coming back?”
“Of course. He is a filial son, unlike you. He visits every opportunity he has.”
Jiang Cheng did not bother to point out that Wei Wuxian had returned to their parents’ estate only once in the last decade, where as he had gone once a month for nine of those years. There was no point.
“He’s won a prestigious award,” Jiang Fengmian continued, his voice now warm with obvious affection and approval. “I always knew A-Xian was special. And now see, he’s won an award for his latest invention. A new kind of rice, I believe. Self-propagating and disease resistant. Very impressive.”
“That’s great, Dad.”
"Of course it is. And yet, you won’t so much as congratulate your older brother, will you? What have you done to further the family name, hmm? Are you still writing your little stories?” Jiang Fengmian’s sigh was a rolling wave of weary, burdened breath. “I will never understand why you gave up a promising career as an executive and threw away your second career as an architect to plunk out little stories and poems all day. Locked in your house, online at all hours, doing the heavens know what. At least tell me you aren’t swimming again. As if that was a possible career choice.”
Jiang Cheng didn’t bother pointing out that his writing had won several awards and that he was even teaching creative workshops all over the world. It didn’t matter that his works revolving around trauma recovery had reached millions of people across the globe and gave people hope that they could survive their own circumstances.
He wasn’t Wei Wuxian so nothing he did mattered. Jiang Cheng was used to it. It barely even hurt, anymore. And it wasn’t like Jiang Fengmian was cruel about it. No, his father just firmly believed that Jiang Cheng had done and would never do anything good with his life because nothing he did came close to comparing to Wei Wuxian.
Jiang Cheng had long ago decided that fact would no longer cause him pain. So he took a deep breath and smiled as he answered.
“Thanks for telling me about Wei Wuxian, Dad. I’ll be sure to send a card. Have a good day, okay? Give my love to Mom.”
Then he hung up and went back to his office. He had the sudden urge to write about a boy who loved swimming, even when there was no one there to cheer him on.
Theme Prompt: #159 - Memory
Title: Splash From the Past
Fandom: MDZS
Rating/Warnings: Gen | Implied dysfunctional family.
Bonus: Nope.
Word Count: 660
Summary: A phone call brings up an old memory.
Jiang Cheng ran through the house, skidding in his socks across the hardwood. He snatched the phone off the cradle and crashed into the couch.
Breathlessly, he gasped out, “Hello?”
“A-Cheng.”
Just his name was enough to take him back. Barefoot on an old wooden dock, racing to the edge, jumping off the end into the sun-dappled lake. Summer heat baking the air, cool water encasing him like a hug. Bobbing up, a laugh on his lips, looking for his father, wanting to hear his father’s praises for such an impressive jump.
But there was no one else on the dock. He was alone. No one was watching him.
“Dad.”
A soft scoffing. “You let the phone ring so long, I was beginning to wonder if you were going to answer at all.”
“Dad, why are you calling me?”
“When are you coming home, A-Cheng? It’s been too long.”
Jiang Cheng frowned, his chest feeling tight. “The last time I was home, you said you didn’t have time to be bothered with me. What changed?”
“Don’t talk back to your father,” Jiang Fengmian said, voice mild but his tone was full of parental disappointment. “It’s a simple question, A-Cheng.”
“I didn't have any plans to visit your house, Father,” Jiang Cheng replied.
“I see.” More disappointment. “Your brother is finally coming home and you can’t even show your face. I see how it is.”
Jiang Cheng was genuinely surprised. “Wei Wuxian is coming back?”
“Of course. He is a filial son, unlike you. He visits every opportunity he has.”
Jiang Cheng did not bother to point out that Wei Wuxian had returned to their parents’ estate only once in the last decade, where as he had gone once a month for nine of those years. There was no point.
“He’s won a prestigious award,” Jiang Fengmian continued, his voice now warm with obvious affection and approval. “I always knew A-Xian was special. And now see, he’s won an award for his latest invention. A new kind of rice, I believe. Self-propagating and disease resistant. Very impressive.”
“That’s great, Dad.”
"Of course it is. And yet, you won’t so much as congratulate your older brother, will you? What have you done to further the family name, hmm? Are you still writing your little stories?” Jiang Fengmian’s sigh was a rolling wave of weary, burdened breath. “I will never understand why you gave up a promising career as an executive and threw away your second career as an architect to plunk out little stories and poems all day. Locked in your house, online at all hours, doing the heavens know what. At least tell me you aren’t swimming again. As if that was a possible career choice.”
Jiang Cheng didn’t bother pointing out that his writing had won several awards and that he was even teaching creative workshops all over the world. It didn’t matter that his works revolving around trauma recovery had reached millions of people across the globe and gave people hope that they could survive their own circumstances.
He wasn’t Wei Wuxian so nothing he did mattered. Jiang Cheng was used to it. It barely even hurt, anymore. And it wasn’t like Jiang Fengmian was cruel about it. No, his father just firmly believed that Jiang Cheng had done and would never do anything good with his life because nothing he did came close to comparing to Wei Wuxian.
Jiang Cheng had long ago decided that fact would no longer cause him pain. So he took a deep breath and smiled as he answered.
“Thanks for telling me about Wei Wuxian, Dad. I’ll be sure to send a card. Have a good day, okay? Give my love to Mom.”
Then he hung up and went back to his office. He had the sudden urge to write about a boy who loved swimming, even when there was no one there to cheer him on.