Chapter Text
Shen Yi wasn't sure he had heard Siwen correctly. He held the phone tighter; it felt like it'll slip out of his fingers.
"…can't go there and…" Siwen choked off. "Shen Yi, you knew her better than me. It'll be better if it were you. Can you…"
"Of course," Shen Yi said automatically. He watched himself from afar: hunched in his dark blue sweater, standing in his bare feet because Siwen's call caught Shen Yi returning home late from work. His satchel hung across his shoulders but slid off to plop by his feet during the conversation. He watched himself write the details on the back of his drawing pad with a marker because Xiaoxuan hides his pens whenever they fall to the carpet.
Shen Yi watched with detachment as he nodded to whatever Siwen said, then replying verbally when he remembered Siwen can't see it.
After the call ended, Shen Yi remained standing, the marker still in his right hand, the phone in his left. The call wasn't long enough to heat the device, but it felt like it melded into his palm. He can't seem to let go of the phone.
With a disorienting snap, Shen Yi's awareness returned to his own body. Lightheaded, he looked down at the phone in his grip.
There was a heavy sensation in his chest. The world compressed down on his shoulders. Its sheer mass smothered everything else. All Shen Yi could feel now was that load.
Shen Yi's phone shook in his grip. He lifted the phone higher. He noted the time. He swiped up, then selected the first contact.
The profile page flared open as the dots lined up, the call connecting, reaching…
"Shen Yi?" Du Cheng sounded groggy.
In the back of Shen Yi's mind, he noted he should stop staring at the phone in his hand.
"Shen Yi?" Du Cheng didn't sound sleepy anymore.
Shen Yi's arm fought against him as he raised the phone to his ear.
"Du Cheng," Shen Yi uttered. To his ears, it sounded…wrong.
"What is it?" There's rustling in the background. Du Cheng was in bed. That's right, Du Cheng left before Shen Yi. And Shen Yi meant to leave right after, but an idea formed into a color, then two, then three and suddenly it was four hours later when he backed away from a canvas with a grin. He left it on an easel in the middle of 406. He wanted to show it to Du Cheng in the morning. He—
"Shen Yi?"
Du Cheng was shouting now, why was he—Oh.
"Du Cheng." Shen Yi felt a calm he didn't think belonged, but his mouth moved on its own volition.
"They called Siwen." Wait, he should explain. "Siwen was on the contact list…Laoshi, no, I mean, she…"
The rest of the words lodged in Shen Yi's throat. He was about to explain why he was still up at—what time was it? Wait, Du Cheng was sleeping. He woke Du Cheng.
Du Cheng was talking, saying something, but it only sounded like buzzing until Shen Yi realized he held the phone to his side again. Shen Yi raised the phone back to his ear.
The noise sharpened into words.
"…I'll be there in fifteen minutes. I'm getting into my jeep right now. Do you hear me? Shen Yi? I'm on my way."
Shen Yi hummed. It was easier than remembering how to shape the word "Okay."
The call ended. Who ended the call Shen Yi didn't know; didn't think it mattered.
Shen Yi let go of the phone. He watched it tumble out of his hand and land on the carpet, face up.
It said 2:18.
Shen Yi sat down on the carpet, wrapped his arms around himself, and stared at the phone. He continued to stare at it even when the screen went dark.
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"Shen Yi." A hand dropped on Shen Yi's shoulder.
The scratchy white noise gnawing his ears silenced. His loft emerged from a haze.
Shen Yi looked down at Xiaoxuan curled on his lap. The white feline stared back unblinkingly, pink nose twitching with displeasure because he stopped running fingers down its soft back.
"Shen Yi." Du Cheng sounded like he was still half-asleep. "You with me?"
Shen Yi raised his heavy head.
"I didn't open the door," Shen Yi said blankly. "Did you break my door?"
"No need." Du Cheng huffed. "You forgot to lock the door again."
Du Cheng looked disheveled. His short hair stood in unruly spikes like he had run a hand through the strands and it had stuck. He wore the same dark blue t-shirt and green denim button up from work. He still smelled of lunch. Jiang Feng had accidentally spurted sweet and sour sauce on Du Cheng.
"I called our station," Du Cheng murmured. His hand moved to settle between Shen Yi's shoulders. "There was a report of remains washed up on shore at—"
"Yangsha." Shen Yi's hands whipped out. Where was it? His bag? No. His legs unfolded as he twisted around. Xiaoxuan bounded out with a startled mewl.
"I wrote the station contacts down on—it was on the back…"
"It's fine. I found it." Du Cheng pushed Shen Yi's hands down. "Let me make a few calls. Stop kicking Xiaoxuan—no, no, no, I was kidding. Your cat's fine."
Du Cheng paced across the width of the work area in his socks. Shen Yi tracked the feet go left and right, Du Cheng talking to whoever he called in an authoritative voice.
Xiaoxuan wiggled back into Shen Yi's lap. He absently continued with her back scratches. Her soft tail batted against his left wrist like a metronome.
When Du Cheng finished, Shen Yi said the first thing that popped up in his head.
"Your socks don't match."
Du Cheng looked down at himself, lifting one foot to inspect the black sock then the other in a blue striped one.
"Fashion statement," Du Cheng said blithely. He reached down and pulled Shen Yi to his feet.
Shen Yi swayed where he stood, looked down and mumbled, "That doesn't look very good."
Du Cheng scoffed. He handed Shen Yi his bag.
"Let's go."
----------
"What are you doing?"
Shen Yi blearily looked up from his bicycle. Du Cheng frowned back.
"Oh." Shen Yi stared at the handlebars. He reached for his bicycle as soon as they stepped out the door. His hands spasmed as they pulled away.
"You want to take it with you?" Du Cheng asked patiently. He didn't wait for a reply. He brushed Shen Yi's hands away and lifted the bicycle up to his shoulders.
"Come on, I parked at the end of the alley. We better hurry before I get a ticket."
Shen Yi watched Du Cheng's tall form, his shadow taller with the bicycle. He followed, his eyes fixed on Du Cheng's shoulders to guide him where he needed to go.
----------
"It'll be an hour. Try to sleep," Du Cheng said. He studied the map on his phone, frowning as he reviewed the directions.
The jeep was bitterly cold. Whenever he drove late, Du Cheng rolled down his window to let the bite of chilled air keep him alert.
Du Cheng tossed a dark green sweatshirt onto Shen Yi's lap.
"Jiang Feng left it here last time," Du Cheng explained. "It smells like those crab chips he snacks on, but it's warm."
"It's going to get cold in here," Du Cheng said, gesturing toward the window with an apologetic grimace.
Shen Yi pulled Jiang Feng's sweatshirt over his head. He made a face.
"Yeah," Du Cheng snorted. "Crab chips."
"Does he eat them or bathe in them?" Shen Yi joked. It sounded awkward to his ears, but Du Cheng laughed anyway.
"Ask him when we get back." Du Cheng started the jeep.
Shen Yi huddled into the sweatshirt. The sweatshirt was loose enough that the neckline rose to Shen Yi's ears when he slouched deeper into it.
Huddled in oversized thick fabric, the neckline blocked the lower part of the world. Shen Yi decided he could live with the smell. He shrugged deeper into the clothing until the world obscured some more, until all he could see were the highway lights through the passenger's window. They looked suspended in the night sky. Their white lights blazed, then faded as the jeep passed them. The window caught each flare like a prism.
White lights shimmered into color, all too brief before fading, only to explode into brilliant white lights again, streaming a bright ribbon of colors and then fading. And then again. And again.
Shen Yi watched the display echo mortality until his eyes burned from the strain of staring up without blinking. He squeezed his eyes shut, hunched deeper into the sweatshirt and tried to sleep as Du Cheng suggested.
He couldn't. And the disembodied highway lights continued to pulse its white and color, then darkness behind his eyelids.
----------
"We're here."
Du Cheng appeared unsurprised when Shen Yi straightened up, already alert.
The precinct was a gray, utilitarian structure with long, narrow windows. The parking lot was a modest strip of alternating painted stripes. A row of bicycle docks on the other side of the parking lot was as long as the lot itself. Beyond the police station, a faraway ocean rumbled. Its waves crashed against something, pulling things in, giving things back.
It wasn't sunrise yet, but the row was already full. There were more bicycles than cars present.
"It's a beach district," Shen Yi said inanely, because after a long silence in the jeep, he felt compelled to contribute something. He also wanted to out-shout the ocean, but the water always won. Setting his shoulders against the roar, he turned toward the station and took a step. Then another.
Du Cheng stayed close. Despite his longer stride, he matched Shen Yi's. They walked in unison up to the building.
It felt like they were going to war. Shen Yi tried to school a more appropriate…he wasn't sure how he should look. Maybe he fell asleep in Du Cheng's jeep after all. He was groggy, untethered, and far away, observing them entering the station.
Du Cheng spoke with the front desk. His voice was brisk, professional, and left no room for Shen Yi to say anything.
Shen Yi could not get annoyed about Du Cheng taking over. Shen Yi signed whatever forms Du Cheng gave him. He dutifully nodded whenever Du Cheng looked at him. He followed Du Cheng and the young officer into the elevator. He watched her punch in an access code. He watched the yellow digital numbers count down to the lower levels.
That's right. They kept bodies in the basement. Of course, they were going down.
Their footsteps were sharp raps on the tiled floor. As they proceeded deeper into a dim hallway, it grew colder.
Shen Yi really wished he had kept the sweatshirt on.
After an absent tug of sleeves over his wrists, Shen Yi panicked. He left his bag in the jeep with his pencils and sketchpad. But then the urgency fizzled; he won't need it.
The simple "Examiner" sign stood out, a ghostly white glowing in the gloomy corridor. A metal door, a window with wires, and a glimpse of the masked medical examiner standing solemnly at the foot of a stretcher. A white cloth draped over something too small to even think it was hers.
Maybe it wasn't her. It looked so small. It couldn't possibly be—
Du Cheng abruptly stood in front of Shen Yi before he could follow the officer in.
"Wait here." Du Cheng dropped his hands on Shen Yi's shoulders.
For the first time since Siwen's call, something shifted inside Shen Yi. He sucked in his breath.
"I'm supposed to ID her—"
"Shen Yi, she's been in the water for over three months." Du Cheng's hands kneaded Shen Yi's shoulders. "She wouldn't want you to see her like this."
A strangled laugh clawed out of Shen Yi. "Most of the time, she thought I was Siwen."
Du Cheng grimaced, but didn't remove his hands.
"Then do you think she would have wanted Siwen to see her like this?"
Shen Yi closed his eyes briefly. He slowly shook his head, his neck aching like he strained it.
"But I told Siwen I would see if it's her. He couldn't do it."
"We've asked family overseas to identify bodies before," Du Cheng grated out. "I'm sorry, but he's a fucking coward for asking you to do it."
Shen Yi's throat worked. He stared at Du Cheng's rumpled shirt, at the faint impression of sweet and sour sauce Du Cheng couldn't scrub out. Jiang Feng had gone hoarse apologizing. Lao Yan went hoarse from laughing too hard. And Shen Yi passed napkin after napkin to an exasperated Du Cheng, while wishing his sketchpad was on hand.
Du Cheng stepped closer, his tall frame eclipsing the overhead lighting.
The door behind Du Cheng cracked open.
"Cheng-dui? Shen-jingguan?"
"I'll be there in a moment," Du Cheng said firmly.
The door closed with a click.
"Let me do it, alright?" Du Cheng murmured. He squeezed Shen Yi's shoulders again and again as if demonstrating how a heart should beat. "I'll find something for you to identify and bring it out here, okay?"
Shen Yi, his eyes on the stain, gulped. He nodded jerkily.
Du Cheng's hands swept across Shen Yi's shoulders, brushing away imaginary lint. He patted Shen Yi's upper arms, turned around and entered the room.
Shen Yi lifted his head, tracked Du Cheng as he made a beeline to the medical examiner. They shook hands.
The escorting officer appeared, blocking Shen Yi's view. She pulled a screen partition to stand between Du Cheng and the wired window.
Shen Yi stumbled back, step after step until his shoulders struck a wall. He dropped into a plastic chair, one of three office chairs as gray as the walls. If the chair wasn't there, Shen Yi would have slid down to the floor.
From a lower perspective, the light inside filtered through the screen. Stark lighting cast hard shadows onto the screen, like those shadow puppet shows.
Shen Yi recognized the subtle hunched-forward line of Du Cheng's shoulders as the other moved around the table.
Shadows moved left and right. Shen Yi kept his eyes on Du Cheng's shadow, on the familiar shape.
Du Cheng stood over the table for a long time. Shen Yi wondered what Du Cheng saw. Shen Yi wondered what was there to see. Shen Yi screwed up his face. He pushed the question out of his mind.
A strange play performed through the narrow window. It felt like this was happening somewhere else, flickering and moving on a television screen in front of Shen Yi. When in reality, it was far away from here.
Shen Yi scrubbed his mouth with his sleeve. He must have scrubbed too hard because he tasted blood. He sat in the chair, sucking on his lower lip, watching everything play out without him.
Du Cheng's solid form disappeared from the screen. A beat later, the door opened.
Shen Yi wiped his sleeve across his mouth one last time. Just in case. And stood up.
Du Cheng carefully brought the plastic evidence bag to Shen Yi, holding it in both hands like a fragile sheet of glass.
The hallway wasn't wide. They walked single file. Yet time stretched unbearably. Shen Yi took a hasty step forward to meet Du Cheng halfway.
"Do you recognize it?" Du Cheng asked solemnly. He gingerly raised his hands higher towards the overhead light.
It was a tarnished chain. The ocean's salty waves corroded the silver to a blackish green. A teardrop-shaped jade, once luminescent cream like fresh soymilk, lay yellow and cracked at the end of the still fragile loop. The stone's clasp was a flëur-di-lis design.
The last time Shen Yi saw it, it dangled from her neck as she bent down. She asked if Shen Yi was alright. The jade spun wildly when she watched Siwen storm out of the house.
With unsteady legs, Shen Yi picked himself up. He washed his face and cleaned up the art studio. He stayed in the kitchen with her, sketching while she pulled every flower out of its pot. He said nothing when Xu-laoshi returned home an hour later. Laoshi asked where was Siwen and she laughed. She pointed to Shen Yi and said Siwen was right there.
That night, Shen Yi quietly packed up his sketchpads, his books, and his clothes. He left a note on the table covered in flowery vinyl. He stayed on the battered couch in his studio at the academy for the rest of the school year.
"Shen Yi?" The pendant lowered, pulling away, and Shen Yi automatically reached for it.
The pendant retreated further.
"I can't let you take it out," Du Cheng said with regret.
Shen Yi noticed the label on the sealed evidence bag warning that the contents contained organic material. He lowered his hands. He sat down.
"It's hers," Shen Yi said woodenly. "Laoshi said it was a gift after he sold his first painting. She never took it off, even when she couldn't remember why it was there."
Du Cheng nodded. He reentered the room, behind the screen again. Shen Yi didn't watch the shadows anymore. He stared at his sneakers. His left laces came loose. He didn't retie them.
An indeterminate time later, Du Cheng came out with a clipboard and a pen. He sat down next to Shen Yi, the clipboard on his lap. He looked at the door, at the screen through the window, and said nothing. He just sat there.
Shen Yi glanced over at the clipboard.
"Is that it?"
"You sign this and it confirms the identity of the—"
"I know what it's for." Shen Yi's mouth snapped shut when he heard himself. He held out a hand, palm up.
Du Cheng silently passed over the clipboard.
Shen Yi reviewed each line: her name, her birthdate, her former address, her…last known appearance. Down the form, a blank blue sticky note covered the 'remains' description.' A simple flick of his finger would uncover the medical examiner's summary. Shen Yi left the note alone.
Under that, a box ticked off the 'Personal items.' Du Cheng's normally messy scrawl was now as straight as an architect's. His careful, blocky characters read 'jade pendant' on the blank line. Shen Yi traced the line with a finger.
"I hope you don't mind." Du Cheng cleared his throat. "If everything looks correct, sign at the bottom. I'll sign as the second witness."
Shen Yi signed it. Du Cheng signed it. And when Du Cheng went inside with the clipboard, Shen Yi realized that was it.
The small, too small, object covered with the white cloth now has a name.
Shen Yi got to his feet and left.
----------
When Shen Yi walked out of the station, dawn took over with its palette: slivers of red and coppery yellow against a violet night.
Shen Yi preferred this liminal hour. He thought the thin strokes of intense color across the fading night promised more than the blooms of sunrise.
Right now, though, the sky didn't beckon. But far away, the ocean called.
Shen Yi headed towards it.
----------
A ribbon of concrete followed the contours of the public beach. The sign at the beginning of the sunken path showed a bicycle and an X over a walking icon.
Shen Yi's sneakers scuffed onto the bike lane.
This early, the path was empty. Shen Yi followed it, keeping the beach to his left. The ocean rumbled beyond that.
A deep breath, a long exhale, Shen Yi timed it with his feet as he walked.
Behind Shen Yi, a chitter-clack followed.
Shen Yi looked over his shoulder. He stopped.
Du Cheng stilled, Shen Yi's bicycle next to him, the right handlebar within the loose grip of his hand. He canted his head.
"This is a bike lane," Du Cheng pointed out. He drew closer and pushed the bicycle towards Shen Yi.
Shen Yi climbed on.
The lane was smooth. It didn't require effort to pedal down the curl along the beach.
Shen Yi kept a slow pace, Du Cheng walking next to him, his hands shoved into his jacket's pockets.
"This is a bike lane," Shen Yi suddenly said.
Du Cheng glanced behind him. He nodded.
"Yeah, yeah, it is." Du Cheng continued walking.
Shen Yi's jaw clenched. His feet pumped the pedals faster, then faster still, the wheels purring as they picked up speed; the wind slapped his face, and he straightened his knees and pedaled harder. He could ride it all the way back to Beijiang if he wanted to and—
The wheels squeaked to a stop. Shen Yi drew in a lung full of salty air. He looked over his shoulder. Du Cheng continued to walk at that meandering pace, his hands deep within his pockets, his eyes on Shen Yi.
Suddenly, Du Cheng was too far away.
Shen Yi turned around and rode back. He braked in front of Du Cheng.
Du Cheng waited. His gaze was unwavering, still waters when next to them, the seas raged.
"We should go back," Shen Yi rasped.
Du Cheng shrugged. "We should," he murmured.
"I mean," Shen Yi faltered, searching for the words. "It's late—no, early, and…"
Du Cheng shrugged once more. "We've put in all-nighters for cases—"
"She's not a case!" Shen Yi lowered his eyes. He mumbled an apology neither one could make out.
"I mean," Shen Yi tried again, "Xu-laoshi…her…it was a case, but Xu-laoshi was the targeted victim, she…she…"
"No," Du Cheng said softly, "she's not a case, but she was a victim, Shen Yi."
Shen Yi's eyes prickled at the corners. He blinked rapidly.
"Do you want to keep going?" Du Cheng asked.
"No, we really should go back," Shen Yi said. He stayed on his bicycle.
Du Cheng lifted his shoulders. He rocked his head left and right before he started walking.
Shen Yi's bicycle kept pace next to him.
The beach and the ocean were to Shen Yi's right now, Du Cheng a steady presence to his left.
If Shen Yi kept Du Cheng within sight, the ocean's roar lost its bite. He glanced at the beach every so often, but his eyes always zipped back to the angle of Du Cheng's right shoulder.
They must have traveled farther along the lane than Shen Yi estimated. Yangsha's station was a blip against the lightening horizon.
A glint on the right caught Shen Yi's eye. His bicycle slowed as they approached.
Close to the tide-smoothed sand, something caught the dawn's light.
Shen Yi climbed off his bicycle.
"That's where they found her," Du Cheng said. "Do you…" He trailed off.
Shen Yi's hand tightened on the right handlebar. He chewed his lower lip, thinking. Then he kicked the stand, left his bicycle on the lane and stepped onto the beach.
After a beat, Du Cheng did the same.
Shen Yi's sneakers sank into the sand with each step. The pace he intended slowed, as if the beach warned him back. He pushed forward.
Behind Shen Yi, Du Cheng grunted under his breath every other step. Neither wore footwear suitable for the beach. They continued anyway towards the tiny burst of light.
When Shen Yi reached it, he discovered it was a foiled pinwheel, a cheap toy one might buy to distract a temperamental child.
Someone tied it to a white plastic stake buried deep in the sand. Three similar stakes dotted the area in a perfect square.
"Scene investigators' tent," Du Cheng explained. "The report stated early morning joggers found her. The tide that morning reached deeper inland because of a storm out at sea."
The tent was gone, leaving behind the stakes. And someone stuck their old pinwheel on one of them instead of tossing the toy away.
Shen Yi squatted down to inspect the pinwheel. A narrow green ribbon secured the toy to the stake. A torn corner of lined paper flapped underneath. He lifted it up with the tips of his fingers.
'Be at peace,' the tiny handwriting said, 'you are home.'
The words blurred. Shen Yi dropped onto the sand, his hand falling to his lap. He swallowed and swallowed again. He turned to the ocean he had avoided looking directly at before.
Du Cheng crouched down. He caressed the flap of paper like it was a flower petal. He poked a pinwheel's fin, turning the wheel in the opposite direction before rising to his feet.
Only to drop onto the sand on Shen Yi's right. Du Cheng sat cross-legged, his hands wrapped around his ankles.
The pinwheel spun clockwise in Shen Yi's side view. Colors blurred into silver and blue as flimsy fins spun faster under a beach breeze.
Birds with broad white and gray wings screeched high above them. They dive bombed into the sea in front of them, squawking victoriously as they burst out of the water moments later.
The pinwheel seemed to chitter back to the gulls. Tic-tic-tic as it whirled. Its ribbon flapped noiselessly beneath it.
Du Cheng stared at the sky as if it was the most fascinating thing in the world. He rocked slightly as if the same wind moved him.
Shen Yi exhaled.
Du Cheng continued to sway where he sat, but his head cocked towards Shen Yi.
"I thought…" Shen Yi laughed, stopped and laughed again, but he heard himself. It sounded like something else, so he stopped again.
"We didn't find her body, and it was so long, I thought…" Shen Yi shrugged, sniffled loudly. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve.
"I thought maybe Laoshi hid her away, somewhere where creditors wouldn't find her and she was still alive, and…and…"
Shen Yi brushed sand off his sneakers.
"It was a just thought," Shen Yi muttered.
"It was a nice thought," Du Cheng murmured, his voice softening.
Shen Yi sniffed and nodded to himself. He looked up, squinting at the sky.
"New day," Du Cheng noted.
Splashes of coral and gold filled the sky's canvas. A marine layer obscured the rising sun. The sunrise brushed pink and yellow on the top of the cloud bank. The cloudy blanket hung suspended between the ocean and the sky.
The marine layer looked like another world in the distance. Maybe a world where she stayed for all those months before finally deciding to return home.
Shen Yi's mouth contorted. He dragged his sleeve across his eyes. Shen Yi glanced back at the pinwheel. He choked out a laugh.
At Du Cheng's raised eyebrow, Shen Yi pointed at the pinwheel.
It started spinning in the other direction.
Du Cheng huffed, not really understanding. In truth, Shen Yi didn't either, but he watched the toy whirl in a direction it wasn't supposed to, twirling so fast, the colors blurred into only silver. It looked like a star now. A brilliant star shone in the fresh light of the new morning.
Shen Yi silently rose to his feet. Du Cheng did the same. Somehow, despite the pull and sink of the sand, their strides matched as they trudged back onto the bike path.
----------
Sand trickled down the sides of the jeep as Du Cheng maneuvered the bicycle onto the rack.
"How did you get this much sand?" Du Cheng complained to the cycle. He wound the chains around the frame with a practiced hand.
"Was there paperwork I still need to fill out?" Shen Yi asked. He watched his bicycle wiggle into place from a safe distance by the front of the jeep. Du Cheng's elbows and knees knocked into everything every time he hoisted things up onto the rack.
"I told them to forward it to Xu Siwen." Du Cheng paused. He looked over his shoulder.
"You've done more than enough, Shen Yi. Let him handle the rest as he should have."
"That's not really fair," Shen Yi said weakly.
"No." Du Cheng hopped off the running board. He scrubbed his hands clean on his jeans. "No, it's not fair. To you."
Du Cheng pointed at Shen Yi. "Don't argue with me about this. You won't win."
Shen Yi closed his mouth.
Du Cheng walked up to Shen Yi, his mouth set. He studied Shen Yi for a moment.
Abruptly, Du Cheng tugged Shen Yi to him.
Startled, Shen Yi fell forward, supported by Du Cheng's hands curled on his upper arms. Before he could do more than blink, Du Cheng's hands moved and pounded his back.
Du Cheng's hands returned to Shen Yi's arms as he stepped back.
"Don't get sand in my jeep," Du Cheng said gruffly. His hands released. He smirked. "Do you know how hard it is to get sand out of the upholstery?"
Shen Yi gazed up at Du Cheng.
Du Cheng tilted his head, an eyebrow raised high into his hairline.
"What?"
Shen Yi stepped into Du Cheng's space. He put his arms around Du Cheng's middle.
Du Cheng went stock still. Then, with a huff, he wrapped his arms around Shen Yi's shoulders.
This close, the faint smell of spilled sweet and sour sauce returned. Sweat, sea air and cotton filled Shen Yi's nostrils. He gripped the back of Du Cheng's jacket with trembling hands. The arms bracing his shoulders pulled him closer.
The world stopped moving beneath Shen Yi's feet. That sense of renewed stillness he got each time he climbed off his bicycle returned.
Another breath, Shen Yi copied Du Cheng, patting the other's back, albeit not as forcefully. He stepped back. Du Cheng's hands dropped away.
"Sand," Du Cheng and Shen Yi chorused. They shared lopsided grins and got into their respective seats.
The doors thumped shut, muffling the ocean. The seatbelts' clicks were louder. Shen Yi exhaled, sagging back into his seat.
Du Cheng tugged his harness across his body, fiddled with the heat and checked his phone about the traffic back. Then he stopped.
Shen Yi looked over questioningly.
"I'm glad you called me," Du Cheng murmured.
Speechless, Shen Yi blinked at Du Cheng.
Du Cheng twisted around to Shen Yi. He lightly punched Shen Yi on the shoulder.
"But you're buying me coffee," Du Cheng quipped.
Shen Yi huffed out a laugh.
"Okay, that's fair," Shen Yi agreed.
The jeep engine rumbled to life around them when Du Cheng added, "And dinner. At Yu Shan Feng. Jie knows the owner. She can get us a reservation." He grinned cheekily as he turned the wheel.
"Now that's pushing it," Shen Yi protested, even as he chuckled. "Who has the bigger wallet?"
"Hey, was that a comment on my wealth?" Du Cheng crowed. The jeep backed out of the parking slot. "I'm telling Zhang-ju."
"You're the one who brought it up!"
Du Cheng barked out a laugh. Shen Yi shook his head. And the jeep entered the highway. The bicycle's frame sang with a low hum as the wind passed through it. The chains delicately rattled like wind chimes, accompanying the jeep's steady rumble towards home.
The End