Stressed is Just Desserts Spelled Backwards

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Jiang YanLi measured out the flour and added the eggs, the baking soda and the other ingredients.

"Are you sure I can't help you?" Wei Ying wrapped his arms around her waist from behind and rested his chin on her shoulder.

"I'm sure, and didn't I tell you to go stand in the shop out front..." She said with a laugh.

"But Shijie...it's my day off...I really wanted to spend it with you!" He pouted.

"But I'm really late this morning." She said, her voice cracking slightly.

"Is my nephew playing up again?" Wei Ying rubbed her arms sympathetically.

"I dunno...I just can't keep anything down these days. And look at me, I'm fine if I'm baking for the shop, but if I so much as think of tasting it, or if I thought it was for me, my tummy decides to upend itself. Hair-triggered." She sighed and began kneading the dough.

"This is all the Peacock's fault." Wei Ying muttered, irrationally.

His sister was expecting a bundle of joy, but it was all the Peacock's fault...

The doorbell of the shop chimed and Wei Ying reluctantly left her when she looked pointedly at the door leading there.

"Okay, okay...I'll go. But save the bowl for me...I get dibs...not JC!" He shouted, smiling when she agreed.

He pushed open the door and took his place behind the glass counter displaying a wide variety of baked goods.

He grabbed a purple apron and cap that both say "Lotus Cakes" embroidered with gold thread, remembering when his Shijie had asked him to design her logo.

And then, he looked up into the most beautiful pair of golden eyes, blazing with intensity.

*********

Lan Zhan was late.

Lan Zhan was never late, but today...he was going to be.

It made his skin crawl.

When he and his brother were growing up in the Lan mansion, on the Lan Estate, their uncle had read them three thousand rules which they had to memorise. One of them was about tardiness and approximately twenty to do with punctuality. And if he didn't hurry, he would be breaking all of them...

But XiChen had asked him specially.

Lan Zhan loved his brother.

There was no way, not in this lifetime, that Lan Zhan would not drop everything to do whatever his brother wanted.

"Please WangJi, I was going to pick up the cakes and pastries on my way in to work, but A-Jue isn't feeling good. Be a dear and collect them for me?" He'd gone on to rattle off an order, knowing that Lan Zhan would remember it.

Plus if Nie MingJue wasn't feeling well, it was highly likely that XiChen was going to cry off the meeting, which meant Lan Zhan had to be there to man the ship, so to speak.

So he power walked to the bakery one block away, because Lans didn't run, trying not to let his irritation show.

The tiny silver bell hanging on top of the door chimed delightfully, but Lan Zhan was in no mood to appreciate it. He tried not to scowl, but the fragrance of baking bread, and the tang of sweetness hit his nose and his stomach rumbled. It was such a delicious smell, and he wondered if he opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out, would he be able to taste it? Taste the smell?

It was wonderful.

Warm, and loving and reminded him of home...and his mother.

Lan Zhan remembered baking once a month with his mother, the first Friday of every month. He would look forward to the beginning of the month, getting excited days in advance, jittery with joy at being able to spend this time with his mother. Madam Lan loved to bake, and while she did not have the time to pass on her skills to her children in time, Lan Zhan could not believe how this tantalisingly lovely smell had taken him right back to that kitchen when he was six.

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