Chapter Text
The first time Zhao Yunlan had snooped in on something, he was apparently six months old and was found by his hysterical mother, who thought she had lost her son, sleeping inside a trashcan (his mother, to this day, believes that this is why his lifestyle was generally trash – he doesn’t argue against it).
The second time was immediately the next day where he was found buried in his parents closet (his mother, to this day, believes that this is why he didn’t know he was gay until he introduced Shen Wei to her – he argues about this because he was really bisexual before he became shen-wei-sexual).
It quickly became apparent that Zhao Yunlan was a con-artist and international snooping criminal in the making. This is perhaps the reason why his father had been laying the foundation of him having his own department in the government as early as he could remember. After all, the government would prefer cunning and talented individuals working for them rather than against them.
To be fair, according to his mother, there were good things that happened with his snooping tendencies (“It’s not ‘tendencies’ if he acts on it.” “Hush. I’m trying to delude myself that our son is normal.”). She recalls the first one as when she found his four-year-old self curiously putting on her cosmetics (“You looked like a clown and maybe that’s why you’re one now.”) which became good blackmail photos until she realized her son was crowned king of shamelessness. And the second she listed was when he found Da Qing that was able to explain the things his eyes can see when no one else can once he was ten years old.
Anyhow, so, Zhao Yunlan’s snooping and criminal – or rather, ‘government employee’ – escapades continued. When he originally just wanted to get some of Shen Wei’s underwear and found a deep secret instead, (“Ah-Lan, honestly!” “Excuse me, ‘Mister I own a bedroom filled with a handsome man’s reincarnation paintings’”) he barely even blinked at the intensity of his discovery.
When all was said and done with his anger abated already with the earnest look in his great beauty’s eyes (“So you’re basically a pushover for pretty things.” “Of course! And this is why you could never have any control over me, you fat cat hahaha”), their move to the house that he purchased even before he properly confessed was the automatic next thing to do for the couple and unfortunately, it also meant including some cat (“Excuse you! I am not just ‘some cat’!” “Can you like not breathe in my general direction? Your breathe stinks.”).
“If possible, I would like to keep all of your paintings.”
The moment Shen Wei asked that of him, there was no way he was going to say no. For one, all those paintings were handmade by his baobei which makes them equivalent to treasure. And second, the face on the focal point of each canvas was a very handsome one (“God, you’re a narcissist.”) and it felt like he had different photoshoots. Thus, a room in the house was allocated just for them.
Zhao Yunlan sneezed as he finished hanging the last painting on the room. He took a week off to finalize some housing concerns while pushing Shen Wei back to his job because he knows the youth of today will benefit on his lover’s teachings (“You just want to see him wearing his arm bands.” “Well, I’m not one to deny. And hey, his arms look delicious, okay.” “Disgusting.”).
He stood in front of the biggest painting at the center which he recognizes as his primordial god self during olden times – Kunlun. He’s slowly remembering all these lives he’s lived as his power breaks Meng Po’s soup effects on him but they’re coming randomly. However, there were some lives that stood out to him that he immediately recalls them.
One of them was – he turned to his right and stared at the second largest portrait – Shen San. He touched the corners of the painting as memories of a peach blossom tree, wine, and halcyon days flowed through him. When he was about to remove his hand, his fingers ran through a small tear on the canvas and he frowned. It was so uncharacteristic of Shen Wei to have that on his things.
With a swipe from his slender dexterous fingers, he found that the tear was housing a piece of preserved parchment. His snooping senses went off and he shamelessly opened it to read what was put there.
And then the mischievous grin on his face dropped.
He stepped back and went through all the paintings to confirm his suspicion, which, true enough, all had a small barely noticeable tear on its corners with a piece of writing gently shoved and hidden on it. Once he gathered all the parchments, he sat in the middle of the room and put a hand over his loudly, beating heart.
Calm down, he thinks.
Calm down, he orders.
Calm down, he pleads.
But the heart was never logical and refused to listen. Oh, Shen Wei, he calls. Five thousand years was just slowly catching up on him as his own sufferings being put into the cycle of reincarnation becomes apparent. But Shen Wei’s five thousand years…
He knows exactly what kind of power he wields over Shen Wei from the tips of the latter’s hair strand deeper down to the last vein in his heart and beyond the soul flaming in him. He knows how obsessively wrapped around him Shen Wei was that he welcomes that hunger with the tilt of his bare neck and the entrance to his body. He knows how a single word from him can make or break his beloved.
(And he also knows how it is the same to him with regards to Shen Wei.)
But then there are these times where he gets reminded just how exactly loved he was that his divinity remained with that one faithful believer; and that the love poured unto him was a mix of painful screams, oceans of blood, and the dried bones and flesh of all the lives they’ve lived. There are these times where he realizes that their love for one another was so all-encompassing that the universe had no choice but to bend to their will and create a path for their happy ending.
He looked down at his shaking hands as he read through Shen Wei’s notes on each of his reincarnations – from the circumstances of his birth, the sound of his first laugh, and the last moments of his breathe; how he liked his dumplings cooked, how he preferred to sleep on a certain angle, and how his eyes usually gave away his real emotions no matter how he hides it with his mocking smile and barbed words.
Kunlun jun gave me his soul.
Crown Prince Xiao Bai does not look to be touched on his left shoulder. Commoner Lin Mu likes the white sweets over the colored ones. General Bo Li prefers to use the bow rather than the sword gifted to him. Demon hunter Pei Wende does not like the sound of cutleries banging against each other.
Shen San gave me his name.
Courtesan A-Li touches his tea with his left pinky. Detective Luo Fei soaks into his bathtub at exactly twenty-three minutes, no more and no less. Astronaut Ma Fei loved his father more than anything else including his dreams. The playboy Yang Xiuxian would trade a bottle of tequila for a pint of ice cream.
The SID Chief ran through all his other past names and felt tears welling up at the corner of his eyes. There was no mention of grand actions of these reincarnations but was rather filled with the tiny things no one else would have noticed unless they gave him all of their attention, care, and love.
His eyes paused at the last entry that was the shortest compared to all the multiple completely filled pages per reincarnation.
(Zhao Yunlan – )
With his head bowed down and tears running down his face was how Shen Wei found him upon coming home.
“Ah-Lan..?” came the extremely worried tone from Hell’s Ghost Slayer. Shen Wei almost tripped as he ran and crouched down to him and held his face. “What’s wrong? What is it? Who do I have to kill?”
Zhao Yunlan doesn’t answer verbally but pulls Shen Wei into his arms with a deep and bone crushing hug to which the latter quickly reciprocates.
“I love you,” Zhao Yunlan thinks.
“I love you,” Zhao Yunlan declares.
“I love you,” Zhao Yunlan pleads (as if to ask this creature with him to understand the depth of his own love for him as well).
Shen Wei responds with a guttural growl of affirmation.
-
(Zhao Yunlan – I believe he is the last that I will see for I am at my end. I hate it. I have so much more love to offer, so much more kisses to give, and so much more of me to worship him with.
I think I might love this one the most…)