Chapter Text
The hair was apparently deemed too recognisable. Those goddamn shampoo ads.
“It’s not too bad.” Sha Hualing said diplomatically, which is how Luo Binghe knew that it was, in fact, that bad.
He clutched his head and refused to look out the window, in fear of catching the slightest glimpse of his reflection, “Ling-er- don’t- Ling-er I’m blond”.
Sha Hualing muffled a laugh into her coffee, “It could be worse.”
“How?!” Luo Binghe whimpered, “How could this get worse?”
“You could be fully blond, not just the tips – which you can dye by the way – they could have given you shittier clothes to wear, Liu Qingge could have asked for them to give you acne, you could be Shang Qinghua.”
“It’s straight.” Luo Binghe ignored her in favour of holding a limp lock of hair up between his fingers, “I just got my curl pattern back after fucking destroying it with heat for years, and now, I’m back to ironing it every day.”
“There, there.” Sha Hualing patted his back, “It’ll be alright. I’ll get you some heat protectant.”
Luo Binghe wasn’t in the mood for reassurances; he wanted revenge. He wanted his goddamn dignity back.
Sha Hualing evidently shared no such wants, as she began frantically waving across the café. Luo Binghe began to turn around to look, but found Sha Hualing’s hand holding his jaw, forcing him to look at her.
“Do not fuck this up for me.” She growled before releasing him, “Liu Mingyan! Over here!”
Luo Binghe turned to see his new sister picking her way across the café, and wow, he could see where Sha Hualing was coming from. Liu Mingyan was gorgeous, with inky black hair and discerning eyes; her face was covered by a purple mask, and she was armed with a handful of books that she set down on the table.
“Sha Hualing.” Liu Mingyan greeted, which Luo Binghe thought was a bit standoffish, but Sha Hualing seemed to perk up like a puppy, “Liu Binghe.”
Luo Binghe offered her a hand, which she accepted. After the handshake, he questioned, “Do you fence? You have swordsman’s calluses.”
Liu Mingyan’s eyes crinkled slightly, “Maybe.”
She gracefully sat down at the table, flagging down a waitress and ordering an oat milk cappuccino and a pot of green tea, “Apologies, Shen-Shifu is incapable of arriving on time.”
Ah- the famed Shen-Shifu, the one Luo Binghe heard constantly about. The highly renowned Enhanced Persons specialist, whose work was often cited as groundbreaking and as fundamental to their understanding of Enhancements.
Luo Binghe would place bets on how pompous the man would be- all those Enhancement specialist types were. They viewed Luo Binghe’s power as a fluke, something to be prodded at and dissected. He wasn’t looking forward to the time they’d inevitably have to spend together to help Luo Binghe fit into the classes.
Luo Binghe glowered into his large Frappuccino with two pumps of caramel, sprinkled with dry frozen strawberries, topped with whipped cream and caramel drizzle.
“I grabbed our drinks.” A soft voice spoke from behind Luo Binghe’s slouched back.
A pot of green tea was set down on Luo Binghe’s right, and Liu Mingyan’s cappuccino on his left, where she was sitting. Luo Binghe turned his head, sullen expression still fixed on his face before he felt his mouth drop.
The most beautiful man Luo Binghe had ever seen slipped into the chair next to him. The man was in his early thirties, and had an air of scholarly grace, not unlike Luo Binghe’s old mentor Qingqiu, but emulated the warmth that Qingqiu lacked. The man slipped off his knitted gloves and held out a hand to Luo Binghe.
“Shen Yuan. I believe you’re with the police?”
Luo Binghe picked his mouth off the floor and swallowed, now feeling childish for his drink choice. The most stunning person in the city was sitting next to him, and he was drinking a frankly ridiculous drink. He felt his ears heat up in shame.
“Uh, special agent Liu Binghe.” Luo Binghe introduced himself, nervously shaking Shen Yuan’s hand, “Thank you for agreeing to this.”
Shen Yuan offered a small smile, his lips curling up on his face. Luo Binghe tried and failed to tear his eyes away from them, “It’s no problem, Binghe.”
He turned to look down at his pot of tea, causing his hair’s inky black stands to reveal Shen Yuan’s pale, soft neck. Luo Binghe suppressed a captivated sigh.
Sha Hualing shook her head, “We’ve lost him.”
Discretely taking a sip of her cappuccino, Liu Migyan covered a snicker, “It happens to everyone.”
.+*+.
Get your shit together, Binghe. Luo Binghe mentally slapped himself; you’re here for work. That attitude had never stopped him before, but hopefully it would snap him out of whatever moon-eyed daze he was currently in and into a more suitable smouldering expression.
The four of them traipsed towards Gusu University. The air was cold- it was approaching nightfall, and the streetlamps had flickered on a few minutes ago. Shen Yuan had shoved his face into his thick scarf and nestled his gloved hands in his coat pockets; Luo Binghe couldn’t keep his eyes off the man. His hands itched to reach out and cradle Shen Yuan’s cheeks – rosy from the sharp coolness of the air – but he resisted and curled his hands into his thick coat, telling himself that he was content with just watching the man.
Luo Binghe didn’t believe in love at first sight, but he was involved with enough police cases to believe in obsession at first sight. He remembered reading a transcription of a police interrogation – the stalker confessed that he just knew and it was like he’d known her before.
One foot in front of the other. Hand to himself, he didn’t know Shen Yuan – even though there was a part of his brain, a part the Luo Binghe brutally suppressed, that screamed yes, he did. He knew that gait, that laugh.
One foot in front of the other. Hands to himself.
Luo Binghe was beginning to regret this mission.
.+*+.
Shen Yuan regretted nothing.
His favourite hero was sitting across from him, and he wasn’t even handcuffed. He’d never thought he’d see the day.
Junshang – Liu Binghe, as he introduced himself, but even without Shang Qinghua’s heads up, Shen Yuan was enough of a hero fan to be able to look past the straightened hair and bleached tips – was sitting ramrod straight on the other side of Shen Yuan’s desk, gripping his mug of tea. The man looked pale.
Shen Yuan broke the silence first, tapping his pen against the sheets of paper in front of him, “I understand you’ve never completed a university degree before.”
Shen Yuan knew Liu Binghe, the ‘special agent ’, hadn’t completed a degree before, but he also knew that Junshang hadn’t even completed high school before being scooped up into a hero training programme. Those predatory fucks.
He’d watched Lotus’s frankly terrifying debut onto the heroic stage – the boy couldn’t have been more than sixteen years old - but had only met the hero five years later, when Lotus had ‘blackened’ (as fan forums like to say) and become Beast. Shen Yuan, six years into the whole villainy showbiz, was midway through robbing a Xianle Bank branch when he’d been faced with the fight of his lifetime. Good days.
Liu Binghe’s fingers tightened around his mug and some colour returned to his face in the form of angry red splotches on his cheeks; he still didn’t meet Shen Yuan’s eyes, ‘I’ve attended night classes.”
Well, that was better than what Shen Yuan had hoped for.
“Binghe,” Shen Yuan began, “Your investigation and police work are paramount, but I do think it would be helpful for you to gain some kind of education whilst you’re here, to integrate yourself with the university.”
Liu Binghe nodded and let out a huffing noise that Shen Yuan took as a yes. He hid a small, indulgent smile- ah, this reminded him too much of his high school teaching days.
“So,” he continued, “You attend my lectures, do whatever you need to do. If you feel out of your depth, you’ll come to my office. I won’t expect you to complete assignments, but I would like you to participate in discussions. Okay?”
Liu Binghe nodded grimly, looking as if he was a soldier heading off to fight in the war.
“In fact, my first lecture of the day is in 15 minutes. Would you like to come?”
He watched Liu Binghe’s jaw work, “… okay.”
Shen Yuan gave him a dazzling smile, and Liu Binghe blinked like the sun had suddenly shone into his eyes, “Let’s go then. Here, hold these for me.”
Standing up, Liu Binghe accepted the pile of books Shen Yuan hoisted onto him and followed him out the door.
On the way to the hall, Shen Yuan raised an eyebrow at the way Liu Binghe seemed to be ravenously taking in the environment, analysing every wall, path and tree. His head swivelled from side to side like a satellite.
“Watch out.” Shen Yuan said pleasantly, side-stepping the overgrown root that had cracked the pavement.
Liu Binghe stumbled, his pile of books precariously leaning over to the side. Shen Yuan shot out an arm to steady the man, righting him before patting him on his head – ohmigod ohmigod ohmigod – and finally rewarding him with a small smile. Liu Binghe looked like someone had just punched him in the gut.
“Thank you, Shifu.” He said breathlessly, and it was then Shen Yuan’s turn to feel the gut-punch. Way too close to the ‘Shizun’. What was he thinking? Alright. Just. Focus.
When they got to the hall, they were five or so minutes early, and most of the seats were filled with students, chatting amongst themselves. Sha Hualing was leaning on Liu Mignyan’s desk, looking slightly desperate for attention. Liu Mingyan was studiously ignoring her and writing in her notebook.
Liu Binghe trailed behind Shen Yuan up to the projector, where Shen Yuan fished out his Lotus USB drive and plugged the little guy in. Liu Binghe stared hard at the mini character. Shen Yuan felt a flush rise at the back of his neck but shoved it down.
To be cringe is to be free. He told himself sternly and cringed inwardly before fortifying himself and waving Liu Binghe to the empty seat next to Liu Mingyan.
Sha Hualing gave Liu Binghe a surreptitious nod as they passed each other. He gestured to his unmarked pile of essays as she approached his desk.
“You just know how to make a girl feel wanted.” Sha Hualing muttered.
Shen Yuan rolled his eyes and began, “Alright! Who can tell me who the first hero was!”
Hands shot up across the hall.
.+*+.
Bao-er was nibbling at the ends of Shen Yuan’s hair. He was draped across their couches, scrolling on his phone, wearing fuzzy socks and a sheet face mask.
“Qinghua! Your daughter is eating me!” He called out.
Shang Qinghua poked his head out of their kitchen for a moment before rolling his eyes and returning to his cooking, “She’s a hamster! You have split ends anyway. She’ll do you some good.”
Shen Yuan gently detached her from his hair and stroked her back, “How long are you going to be?”
“I’m coming now”, Shang Qinghua snapped, aggrieved, reappearing with two steaming ramen bowls, “You could get off your lazy butt- “
“I chopped the vegetables!” Shen Yuan protested, sitting up and carefully moving Bao-er to the coffee table.
“And yet you still sound like a sleazy husband.”
“Would that make you the…” Shen Yuan paused for effect,” wife?”
Shang Qinghua hit him with a pillow.
“Ow! Sorry. Sorry!” Shen Yuan yelped as the blows continued.
After the assault passed, Shang Qinghua began to stuff noodles into his mouth and ignore his roommate. Shen Yuan peeled off the face mask which had come askew in the fight, balled it up and tossed it into a bin. Bao-er crawled over to Shang Qinghua’s side of the coffee table. Traitor.
Shen Yuan crunched on a capsicum slice, “Junshang was in my class today.”
“Mmhm,” Shang Qinghua nodded, “This makes things harder.”
Shen Yuan smiled, “It’s pretty cool though, right?”
For villains that were both classed as Level 3 (Menace) threats, they both inexplicably held heroes in high regard. Their walls were plastered with posters and merch, and Shen Yuan knew both of them frequented hero forums and fan pages.
Shang Qinghua flicked on the television, and they watched in silence as the reporter announced the evening news, recounting the events of the day. Emperor, a Level 1 (Supreme) threat, had been confirmed to have caused the explosion in the dockyards a few days prior.
A priceless DeKappel painting had gone missing from the Hall of Heroes – The Carmine Lady – and police were still investigating its disappearance. Shen Yuan pursed his lips. He didn’t know who got to the painting- it’d been on their radar for years. That heist must have been executed by a specialised team. Shen Yuan made sure to note the possibility of rivals, but he wasn’t so worried. Art Theft wasn’t really a 54SILVER thing.
‘In other news,” the reporter continued, “There have been no new updates on the recent power outages that have struck the city.”
Shang Qinghua leaned forward, listening closely to what the reporter said next, “These power outages, which have struck almost every district in the city, come from an unknown source, causing halts in production and security compromises. There had been no further developments.”
Shen Yuan sighed, watching her continue on different topics. They both settled back down into their sofa.
Damn it. Shen Yuan thought we always have to do these things by ourselves.
.+*+.
There was a man on the corner of the street, staring up at Gongyi Xiao’s window.
He was there that morning, when he woke up; there when Gongyi Xiao left for work at five thirty in the morning, then when he arrived back from work at six in the afternoon, there when he was cooking dinner. And still unnervingly there whilst Gongyi Xiao drank his nighttime tea.
He was sitting on his balcony, legs crossed and cradling his mug, staring back down at the man. The figure was tall and slim, wearing a grey hoodie and black joggers and holding a phone. His hair was long and had what appeared to be thin braids in it. He wore sunglasses.
Gongyi Xiao took a sip of his tea.
He’d never had a stalker before. His co-workers had assured him that it was a fun experience, especially when the police allow you to get involved with the investigation yourself. Gongyi Xiao wondered if he should call someone. Shen Yuan would probably care, but he’d only known him for six or so months. His co-workers would just pat him on the back. The police didn’t know he existed. A bit of a tough spot.
He took another sip.
Staring curiously down at the stalker, Gongyi made note of the way the other seemed deeply uncomfortable with eye contact, but stubborn enough to hold it still. Also, the fact that he never seemed to blink.
Gongyi Xiao raised his hand and waved. The figure, who had been engaged in a certain Mexican standoff with him, broke eye contact and slowly turned away and walked down the street.
He waited until his tea was finished, observing the street for the return of the man, but no such occurrence happened. After the mug was empty, he returned inside.
His apartment was a clutter, boxes strewn everywhere, his kitchen still barren apart from the ready-made meals he’d bought on the company’s dime that were stacked in the fridge. On the floor, his piles of books could have acted as a robbery defence system, and across his apartment, painting and mountains of paperwork lay strewn.
He’d arrived in this house five or so days ago, with strict instructions.
Fit in, keep your head down and keep your eyes open, don’t talk to anyone.
Gongyi Xiao sighed as he brushed his teeth. He couldn’t use his shower right now, a painting of a Pre-Abilities era woman holding a book and wearing a reddish-purple dress occupying the space. Honestly, it was more trouble than it was worth- and it was worth quite a lot.
Gongyi Xiao climbed into bed (supposedly a queen, but there were stacks of paperwork next to him) and curled up, facing the window.
He stared out at the skyline that was set against the backdrop of a dramatic sunset- reds, oranges and pinks. On the top of one of the opposing buildings, a figure with a grey hoodie and black joggers stared back.
Gongyi Xiao rolled his eyes and turned over. He had a gun under his pillow. He’d be fine.