Chapter Text
Of the majority of people who had soulmates, every one of them had their soulmate's name written on their left wrist. The name would be written clearly and legibly, and every single person who had a soulmate could find theirs with the help of asking people or, in the modern era, the internet.
Everyone, that is, save Zhao Yunlan.
His soulmate's name was written clearly and legibly on his left wrist – in a script no-one could read. He'd gotten a degree in ancient scripts, and based on that, he could guess that the script was alphabetic, but none of his professors could figure out anything beyond that.
He'd mostly made his peace with it, though. After all, it wasn't like everyone had a soulmate, so whether or not he was the one making intimate first contact with aliens, as some of his classmates had once suggested, he had plenty of short-term relationships to have if he felt like it.
So when he was at Dragon City University with the hapless new recruit and met a hot professor, he of course went right for the soulmate reference to figure out whether the hot prof would be potentially amenable. “Shen Wei? That's a very good name! I bet your soulmate is overjoyed to have it on their wrist.”
Shen Wei let out a sound of dejection and a stunned expression spread on his face. “I-”
“Ah, sorry, sorry, I shouldn't have assumed.” Zhao Yunlan put on an apologetic expression and noted that Shen Wei still hadn't released his hand. At his pointed gaze Shen Wei finally released it. Interesting; the professor shouldn't be this flustered. “Wasn't it that one in ten people don't have a soulmark?”
“Just shy of nine percent,” Shen Wei said, still scrambling for conversational ground beneath his feet.
Truly fascinating, but alas, Zhao Yunlan was not here for leisure. “While chatting to you has been nice, I'm here for a case and must now go follow other leads. Here's my business card. Let's have a chat when we're free.”
“Of course,” Shen Wei said, gripping the business card to his chest like a maiden in some period drama who'd just received a handwritten note signed by her soulmate.
Zhao Yunlan waved as he led his entourage elsewhere. Far enough that he knew Shen Wei wouldn't hear, he stuck a lollipop in his mouth and said, “That was weird.”
“Yeah,” Da Qing said, now back in his human form. “What the hell is up with him?”
“M-maybe his soulmate died tragically while saving him from a traffic accident?” Guo Changcheng offered, and okay, that would explain someone having a strong reaction to offhand comments about soulmates, but not the type of reaction Shen Wei had had.
Even mulling it over a bit in his mind didn't give Zhao Yunlan an idea. Shen Wei's reaction to hearing Zhao Yunlan's name was awfully similar to what someone's reaction to hearing their soulmate's name would be, but there was no way to map Shen Wei's name onto the sixteen letters on Zhao Yunlan's wrist. Even if the hot professor were a part-time villain from Dixing, the name on his soulmate's wrist would be in nice and legible hanzi, not an alphabetic script Chu Shuzhi had never seen in his life.
The situation was interesting enough that Zhao Yunlan put a mental note next to it, but not reason enough to go pursue it immediately. Perhaps life would provide Zhao Yunlan with a future opportunity to investigate.
The mysteries surrounding the hot professor grew thicker and thicker. Being involved in the Longevity Dial incident was forgivable – even if he was suspiciously fine after diving off the roof into some bushes. Involvement in Wang Yike getting revenge on Professor Zhang's behalf was suspicious in timing, but could also have been chalked up to sheer bad luck and perhaps the university being a hotspot for Dixing activity. Being found at the site of the face-stealer's faked crime scene, however, was definitely due to the professor having some sort of extracurricular activities. Same for the very intentional way he'd walked past where Zhao Yunlan was interrogating Wu Tian'en.
Replaying the memory of Shen Wei healing a scratch out of existence, or perhaps the one of Shen Wei being unaffected by Wang Yike's power, there were not that many conclusions one could make. It was very likely the good professor was from Dixing. The question then was, why was he trying to get so close to the Chief of the SID and going so far as to help them with investigations? Was he trying to make some sort of point?
The evidence was inconclusive. More would no doubt appear, given Shen Wei's tendency to be in the eye of the storm with the SID. And while Da Qing would loudly doubt it, there were more things on Zhao Yunlan's mind than Shen Wei.
Zhao Yunlan sat at his desk, staring at the incense. In his hands was a single match that he rolled in his fingers. After the SID begged the Envoy to save Wu Tian'en yesterday, the Envoy had been visibly touched, and Zhao Yunlan did have a legitimate excuse – two, even, if he considered the increasingly suspicious Professor Shen something to bring to the Envoy's attention – but he still hesitated.
He struck the match and lit the incense. The smoke rose in lazy arcs towards the ceiling.
It was as if the room were suddenly filled by a gray haze. Zhao Yunlan sat up straighter just in time for the swirling purple portal to appear in front of his desk.
The Black-Cloaked Envoy, true to form, stepped out of the portal and let the paraphenalia of his dramatic entrance dissipate into the air. “You wished to speak to me.”
“It's about the Hallows, but nothing acute,” Zhao Yunlan said as he rose. “The Longevity Dial gave me a – vision, hologram, something – about a thing that looked like this.”
The Envoy took the piece of paper from Zhao Yunlan's outstretched hand. It crinkled slightly in his grip. “Did the vision include anything else?”
“It pointed northwards.”
“It seems the Hallows want us to renunite them.” The Envoy folded the paper much more neatly than Zhao Yunlan had, then placed it on the table. Zhao Yunlan once more noted that the Envoy wore no gloves despite his obvious desire to keep his distance from the world. “The one you saw is the Mountain-River Awl. Its powers are different to those of the Longevity Dial, but no less immense. You should not touch either of them.”
“Hey, I only touched the Dial twice, and the first time was for the benefit of our science type,” Zhao Yunlan said. “Do you think the Hallows will control my mind and force me to touch them?”
The Envoy stared at him pointedly. “I am not aware of such a mechanism. All touching is on the toucher's shoulders alone.”
“Good,” Zhao Yunlan said, then decided to reassure the Envoy a bit more. “You've seen our containment methods for the Longevity Dial, haven't you? Do you think they will be adequate once we have more Hallows near each other?”
“The Hallows have been stored next to each other without any problem before, so your containment measures should be enough to prevent any potential inauspicious interactions between them.”
Zhao Yunlan nodded. “Makes sense. What about retrieval of the Mountain-River Awl and the long-term storage of the Hallows? I can't imagine you'd want them to rot at the SID forever.”
“I'll return to that later,” the Envoy said after a moment's hesitation. “As for the Hallows, it would be best for them to be stored at the SID until they have all been reunited.”
“Brother Black is busy and needs to consult with others; I understand,” Zhao Yunlan said. He leaned forwards over his desk. “The SID will cooperate with you with all its ability. Tell us what you need and we'll do it, whether it be transport, storage, or someone to hold the door for you.”
The Envoy stood silently for a moment. “Thank you for the offer. I believe this concludes our business.” He turned around and reached out a hand like he did to summon portals.
“Hey, Brother Black, before you go, I'd like to request a favor from you,” Zhao Yunlan said. His heartrate increased, and for good reason: he was going to ask a foreign diplomat to look at his soulmark.
The Envoy turned so he could loook at Zhao Yunlan over his shoulder. “What would it be?”
“You've probably heard of soulmarks?” Zhao Yunlan started his explanation. “Mine is written in a script no-one's been able to decipher or even recognize. I was hoping that you might know what it is, since you've lived so long and gathered so much knowledge.”
“Show me,” the Envoy ordered, much too eager at the prospect.
Zhao Yunlan pulled up his sleeve and carefully observed the Envoy's reactions. He touched Zhao Yunlan's wrist, which was on the risqué end of acceptable, and ghosted his fingers over the text, which was in a completely different solar system to acceptable. Behind his mask he seemed to be having some private revelation.
Finally, the Envoy let his hand drop. “I recognize it, but cannot read it.”
“That's more than anyone else has said. What sort of a script is it? Where was it used?”
“It was-” The Envoy swallowed. “It was used to write the original language of the Dixing people. As the language was forgotten, so was the script.”
A common fate of minority tongues worldwide. No archaeological expeditions had uncovered samples of the Dixing script, but that might be for numerous reasons, from all the examples being stored in Dixing to it only having been written on non-permanent media. Zhao Yunlan softly asked, “How much do you know of the language?”
“Not much,” the Envoy said, looking back into a long-forgotten time. “My grandmother could speak it and read it fluently, my mother somewhat, and I not at all.”
Abandoned relatively fast, then, and with the prior generations still present to interfere in their children's lives. Zhao Yunlan decided to gamble. “Were you given a name in that language?”
The Envoy appeared nothing if not discombobulated. “Yes, it was…” He looked at the ceiling and paced absent-mindedly before finally saying, “Veifþrkehtkvezdrk.”
“Brother Black will have to excuse me, I think I'll have to practice that before I can use it,” Zhao Yunlan said as he dug out a pen. “Could you please repeat it slowly?”
“Veifþrkehtkvezdrk,” the Envoy hesitantly said.
“There's a v-sound right at the start and it repeats, how convenient,” Zhao Yunlan mumbled around the pen cap as he scribbled his guesses of sound value correspondences to letters on his skin.
“…what are you doing?” the Envoy asked.
“It fits!” Zhao Yunlan declared. “See? The first letter is a v, and then there's a letter for the diphthong ei, and so on, and you can see the v, r, k, and e repeat in the appropriate places.” He smiled charmingly at the Envoy. “Brother Black, may I ask, what's written on your wrist?”
The Envoy's fingers curled and he swallowed, but he still slowly untied his sleeve from his hand protector and pushed it up. Written on his wrist in clear calligraphy with an individualistic flourish was the name Zhao Yunlan.
“Sorry for making you wait,” Zhao Yunlan said. He reached out and entwined their fingers. “Ten thousand years, wasn't it?” Over a hundred lifetimes spent waiting for a single soulmate. The expectations for Zhao Yunlan must be immense after such a wait.
“I – slept for a large portion of it,” the Envoy admitted. He didn't quite seem to know what to do with his hand.
Interesting. “So, how old are you?” Based on Wu Xiaojun, Dixingians grew up on a similar schedule to humans, but of course, they might stay in their prime for much longer than humans would.
“I don't think I've ever known my exact age,” the Envoy admitted. “I might be in my thirties?”
“So young to be in such a position of power!” Zhao Yunlan exclaimed and placed his free hand on the Envoy's shoulder in want of a better place to put it.
The Envoy blushed and ducked his head. It was utterly, completely adorable, and Zhao Yunlan had to resist the urge to pull him close and stick a hand beneath his hood to ruffle his hair. Who knew the impartial enforcer of the Treaty could be this cute?
“It's getting late, and you must be busy with Dixing stuff,” Zhao Yunlan said to save the Envoy from having to respond and himself from going too fast. “Would you like to come to my place tomorrow night for dinner?”
“Yes, please. Where do you live?”
Zhao Yunlan rattled off the address, then released his – soulmate – so he could write it down and draw a map of the surroundings. He then extracted some food preferences from the Envoy that revealed at least a passing familiarity with modern Haixing cuisine. The thought of the Envoy queueing up for street food in his incongruous robes was hilarious, but more likely he simply had some human clothes in his closet. Or he only ate out when the cosplay convention was in town.
“So,” Zhao Yunlan said when they'd finished the necessary arrangements. “Good night. See you tomorrow!”
The Envoy held the little map to his heart in a very familiar gesture that had Zhao Yunlan's ears prick up. The Envoy tilted his head.
It took a moment for Zhao Yunlan to recognize the posture. He smiled. “Does Brother Black want a good-night's kiss?”
The Envoy nodded and stuck out his chin a bit more. It was easy for Zhao Yunlan to take a step closer, lean in, and touch lips-
-only for Zhao Yunlan to discover that the Envoy kissed like an overenthusiastic fish who wanted to gobble up his face.
“Wait,” Zhao Yunlan said and cupped the Envoy's jaw in his hands. “A short lesson on kissing: Jaw and mouth closed but relaxed. Lightly move your lips.”
He leaned back in, and this time it was much better. The Envoy was still inexperienced, but now the kiss was pleasurable, and constantly improving as Zhao Yunlan gently moved his lips against the Envoy's. He felt the Envoy's hands come to his chest and the one not holding the little map gripped Zhao Yunlan's shirt.
After the kiss, Zhao Yunlan stepped back to find the Envoy breathless and weak-kneed. The satisfaction of a job well done crept up his spine. “Good night, Veifþrkehtkvezdrk,” he said, almost certainly mispronouncing the name.
“Good night, Yunlan,” the Envoy responded, sounding a bit winded. With that, he created a portal of dark energy that brought him away to wherever he spent his free time.
Zhao Yunlan sat down on one of the armchairs in his office and unwrapped a celebratory lollipop. He'd found his soulmate, and okay, having it be the Black-Cloaked Envoy was more than a little weird, but he was sure he'd manage. The soulmark was a guarantee that they'd always play to each others' strengths and be good influences on each other, and after so long relying only on himself and maybe on the fact that Da Qing could get out of any trouble, it was surreal to have an other half. A very attractive other half with very kissable lips who was very interested in at least kissing, and thus probably amenable to sexy things. Some soulmate pairs kept it strictly platonic out of mutual preference, but Zhao Yunlan was already daydreaming about a chance to take his soulmate for a spin on the bed, or perhaps the couch-
The couch, which was covered with much-overdue laundry, and needed to be cleaned. Just like every other surface in the apartment.
“Fuck!” Zhao Yunlan shouted, and rushed back home to clean with greater vigor than he had ever possessed in his life.
“Da Qing!” Zhao Yunlan yelled as he burst through the door with brand-new cleaning supplies in his hands. “We need to clean up immediately!”
“Here I was, thinking you'd never change your slobby habits, and suddenly you discover urgency,” Da Qing grumbled from where he was ensconced upon a pile of lightly-used clothes on the couch in his cat form. “Can't it wait for tomorrow, or be a gradual process? It'll take at least a week of deep-cleaning to get this place into livable condition. Why are you doing it in a hurry? Can't you just take whomever it is to a restaurant instead?”
“I invited the Black-Cloaked Envoy over,” Zhao Yunlan hissed. “I can't just take him to a restaurant!”
Da Qing transformed into his human form and screamed in terror hard enough to fall off the couch. “What? What? Why would you do that?! Have you lost your mind?!”
“I wasn't thinking, okay?” Zhao Yunlan said. He handed a laundry hamper to Da Qing. “Just put all the dirty laundry in there so we can pretend it's being taken care of while I wash the dishes. Then we'll scrub the house and hide things under the bed if necessary.”
“Please tell me you're at least not planning on cooking for him?”
“No, no, it's okay, I said I'd treat him to takeout,” Zhao Yunlan said as he tried to recall what was the optimal way for washing several dishes at a time. He really should've bought a dishwasher so he wouldn't have to deal with this. He tossed the dishes in the sink, squirted some dish soap onto them, turned on the hot water, realized he needed to block the drain for this to make any sense, did that, and then regretted his life choices as the sink filled.
Zhao Yunlan and Da Qing had managed to make the apartment look at least superficially decent by placing the clean dishes and dirty laundry in the appropriate places, then quickly cleaning the surfaces before sleeping. Da Qing understanding he'd been kicked out of the house, Zhao Yunlan called off work early to put on the final touches.
It looked – clean. For someone who didn't know that the fridge held an unpleasant surprise and didn't pay too much attention to the egregious size of the pile in the laundry hamper, Zhao Yunlan might appear to be someone who was at least competent at housekeeping.
The takeaway delivery arrived ten minutes before the agreed-upon time for the start of the date. Zhao Yunlan decanted it into more pleasant containers, since he had some clean ones available for once, and settled to wait.
The Envoy arrived exactly on time. “Good evening, Yunlan,” he said, and Zhao Yunlan was pleased to find the switch from “Chief Zhao” to a plain “Yunlan” permanent.
“Good evening! The food just arrived, I hope you enjoy it. Shall we?”
The Envoy nodded, and they sat down at the table where Zhao Yunlan piled takeout on the Envoy's plate and felt more than a bit awkward about the whole thing, even if it was his soulmate. The food was just as good as the place usually made, which was a relief.
After careful consideration of how to state his inquiry, Zhao Yunlan said, “I must admit, while we do know a surprising amount about your time despite how long it's been, it's mostly stuff like the Treaty text and a well-preserved portrait of Ma Gui. What was it actually like?”
“If you know about wars, you can imagine the era,” the Envoy said. Zhao Yunlan might've been seeing things, but it looked as if the Envoy chewed the next vegetable judgementally. Interesting.
“Ah, no, I was thinking more about your childhood? I know the war started after the meteor hit. Do you have any memories of a time before that?”
The Envoy's gaze turned to infinity. “Yes,” he said. “I was … young, but not that young. I was visiting my aunt in another village when the meteor hit. We were far enough out that most were killed by the diseases the displaced masses brought. Then I became part of the displaced masses, and accidentally ended up in command of the Dixingian faction of the war.”
Zhao Yunlan slowly nodded. “And your childhood? Or were you still a child when that all happened?”
“I was prepubescent, but not by that many years,” the Envoy said. “We played in the sunlight and swam in lakes. The world was vast and empty, the vegetation verdant, and even the winters were mild. It was enjoyable, even if we had to spend all day picking fruit at harvest time. One of the adults had some sort of power related to making plants grow, but we mostly did Haixing-style agriculture.”
“So you lived off the land and ate what you grew? Sounds-” dreary “-cozy.”
“It was hard work.” The Envoy shrugged. “The adults did most of it.”
“I suppose agriculture is,” Zhao Yunlan agreed. “What did you grow? Rice?”
“Millet, mainly. We ate porridge and sometimes noodles with pickled vegetables. After the meteor hit, we mostly didn't eat. Compared to my youth, the modern era has a wealth of things to choose from. You even eat meat frequently.”
Zhao Yunlan nodded. “Yeah, there's a plethora of restaurants and street food carts to buy food from.”
The Envoy froze. “Do you not cook for yourself? At all?”
“No. It's-”
“Zhao Yunlan, how could you abdicate such an essential piece of taking care of yourself?! Food is the very basis of subsistence, you shouldn't foist it onto other people! Are you incapable of-”
“Stop that,” Zhao Yunlan said, annoyed. “I'm an adult, I'm capable of taking care of myself, and you're my soulmate, not my dad!” The Envoy dropped his chopsticks. Zhao Yunlan took a breath, smoothed his voice, and continued, “I just hate cooking, okay? I can follow a video recipe through, but it's super boring and I'd rather be doing anything else. Also, I'm rich. I make an upper civil servant's salary, have no dependents, and don't really travel; compared to my motorbikes and clothes, eating takeaway is nothing in my expenses. Restaurant food is cheap in Haixing. Even the healthy stuff from the overpriced health restaurant. Moreover, I'm an adult, capable of arranging my own life, and my decision is to arrange it so that I don't need to cook. Okay?”
The Envoy remained frozen in his seat. His arms and shoulders started shaking a bit.
Zhao Yunlan rose and went to place his hand on the Envoy's shoulder. “Hey. It's okay.”
“I – wanted to cook for you,” the Envoy said in a voice much less measured than usual.
“You can cook for me,” Zhao Yunlan said, trying very hard not to facepalm. “In fact, I'd love to have you cook for me! What made you think I wouldn't?”
The Envoy swallowed. “I…” He trailed off and couldn't pick up what to say.
Okay, time for some sympathetic advice and a hug, after which they could hopefully move on from the matter. “You haven't ever gone on a date, have you?” Zhao Yunlan observed the Envoy shake his head. “In university, I dated around a bit, and I can with confidence say that going on dates is a skill that one needs to acquire through practice. This is also made a lot more fraught by my not being able to take you out due to your noticeable clothes, so it's all the first date awkwardness and all the first time in the other's living space awkwardness in one.”
“I'm sorry,” the Envoy quietly said.
Zhao Yunlan decided this was the cue to pull him to his feet and gather him up in a hug. “It's all right. We're soulmates; it might be awkward at times, but we'll be the best possible influences on each other and get along wonderfully.” He squeezed a bit and was rewarded by the Black-Cloaked Envoy curling up around him and resting his head on his shoulder. It was akin to a standing cuddle.
“People used to be shorter when I was young,” the Envoy said. “There were taller people, but almost everyone was Da Qing's height or shorter. Then I woke up in the present, and suddenly everyone was tall.”
“My poor soulmate, suddenly not the tallest person in the room anymore,” Zhao Yunlan said and patted the Envoy's upper back. “Should I start crouching?”
“No; your shoulder is at the perfect height for this.”
“Veritable proof of our soulmatehood,” Zhao Yunlan purred against the Envoy's slightly scratchy hood. That reminded him – “One day, I would like to push down your hood and remove your mask, and then at a later date peel you out of your clothes. How does that sound?”
The Envoy swallowed and pressed his face more against Zhao Yunlan. “There will come a day when you'll see my face, but it's not today.”
“Okay.” Zhao Yunlan patted the Envoy's shoulder. “Perhaps we could snuggle on the couch? I could make tea.”
The Envoy found that a good idea and sat himself on the couch with a sweep of his robes. He looked at Yunlan with an almost meek anticipation.
The tea set was a welcome distraction as Zhao Yunlan tried to calm himself down a bit. Okay, sure, the Envoy was a virgin on his first date, and Zhao Yunlan had claimed his first kiss just yesterday – not to mention that said first date was dating on the hard mode. It was natural that he'd look at his more experienced soulmate for guidance. Zhao Yunlan just had to wrap his head around the Envoy sitting on his couch and looking lost instead of standing at the SID and looking imperious. Also, that bit about restaurant food must've touched off on something, but Zhao Yunlan had no idea what.
“Here's the tea,” Zhao Yunlan said as he poured his fanciest tea from his fanciest teaset. “Though there's one thing I have to ask – surely you got my file when I became the Chief of the SID? Were you so shy that it took you years to talk to your soulmate?” He winked winningly to cement the switch back to flirty topics.
“Actually, I only opened it after our first meeting,” the Envoy admitted. He was looking down and half-hiding behind his teacup. “I was told it was Zhao Xinci's son, and … didn't feel like dealing with more of the same.”
Zhao Yunlan laughed. “Don't worry, in this case it's definitely ‘like father, unlike son’ instead of the usual phrasing. It must've been really bad if you were willing to just ignore me.”
“I only learned your name the day we met on the rooftop.”
“Didn't your spy Chu ever even mention me? I'm disappointed.”
The Envoy jerked his head up, wide-eyed, and spilled tea on himself. “What-”
Zhao Yunlan shrugged loosely. “Oh, it was obvious that he was a spy. He's just bad-tempered and self-isolating, and it's not like you're just anyone, so I let it lie.”
The Envoy worked his throat and played with the cup in his hands. “He only ever called you Chief Zhao, and said you were scandalous and that you smoked.”
“I'm still scandalous, but I quit smoking last year,” Zhao Yunlan said. “I took up lollipops instead.”
“Lollipops.”
“Ah, Brother Black, I simply have to have something in my mouth,” Zhao Yunlan purred and leaned closer. The Envoy – yes, he blushed an appealing shade of red, he'd caught Zhao Yunlan's suggestion all right.
“Excess sugar will rot your teeth,” the Envoy hesitantly said, likely still reeling from their earlier argument.
“I know; it's meant to be a temporary stage while I get over the smoking thing. Not dying of lung cancer thirty years down the line is very appeling.”
“Not dying is a good goal to aim for. I support you in your endeavor,” the Envoy said. He paused for a while. Then, seemingly having ascertained that Zhao Yunlan wouldn't scandalize him any more, he lifted his empty teacup onto the table.
Zhao Yunlan filled it and let the slight lull in conversation pave his switch of subject matter. After setting down the teapot, he asked, “By the way, Veifþrkehtkvezdrk, am I pronouncing your name correctly? You're my soulmate and it's written on my wrist, so mispronouncing it would be embarrassing.”
“You're not that far off,” the Envoy said. “It's Veifþrkehtkvezdrk.” He said it a few more times as Zhao Yunlan repeated it.
“Veifþrkehtkvezdrk,” Zhao Yunlan repeated one last time. “Is that all unique to you, or did you have things like generation markers or surnames? What if there were two people with the same name?”
“We didn't have generation markers, I think,” the Envoy said, once more settling down onto the couch. This time he was leaning onto Zhao Yunlan's shoulder as well. “I and my siblings were named by my grandmother. I don't think there ever were any people with identical names, but there was a more formal way of introducing oneself by putting one's mother's name before one's own, and then one's grandmother's before that if asked.”
“Ooh, matronymics!” Zhao Yunlan said. Part of Ancient Scripts had been ancient anthropology, and here he was, getting to do anthropological studies on unique material, even if the culture was long dead and his only source someone extricated from the culture as a child. “What was yours?”
The Envoy thought for a moment. “Šeǧndieþhftervdršn Veifþrkehtkvezdrk. My grandmother's name began with Kernkieš, but I don't recall the rest.”
“Did you have nicknames?” At the back of his mind, Zhao Yunlan made note of the fuller version of the name.
“Some did.” The Envoy smiled fondly. “Based on our names, my mother was called Šeǧn or Fingers, and I was called Little Dusk.”
“And what would you like me to call you?”
The Envoy paused. Zhao Yunlan wondered how much would be revealed, but the Envoy only swallowed and said, “Veifþrkehtkvezdrk and Brother Black are both acceptable.”
Then again, maybe it wasn't fair of Zhao Yunlan to expect his lover to reveal everything on the first date. There'd been enough revelations to last the night, anyway. “Then I'll call you one of those.” He hoped his smile was reassuring enough.
Yes, apparently: the Envoy smiled back. He then grew serious again. “I am afraid I must now go.”
“Ah yes, Brother Black has important duties to take care of elsewhere. Would you like to meet again tomorrow evening?” Zhao Yunlan suggested.
“Yes,” the Envoy said. “May I cook for us?”
“Of course!” Zhao Yunlan was delighted at the prospect of getting someone else to cook for him. Even if it were some odd ancient Dixing grub, he'd surely adjust. “Actually, if you can send me the shopping list during the day, I can buy the ingredients.” He leaned in with a wink. “After all, I'm the one with the fat bank account!”
The Envoy huffed exasperatedly but acquiesced. “Very well. I'll send you the shopping list tomorrow. Good night.” He left in a puff of dark energy with a smile and a small wave. Zhao Yunlan waved after him.
The apartment suddenly felt empty. Zhao Yunlan sighed and decided to start with the responsible thing of emptying the fridge into the trash and taking that out immediately. He then scrubbed at the fridge until it stopped smelling. Biohazard dealt with, he was about to flop down on his bed when he caught himself and decided to toss his clothes in the hamper and take a shower instead.
Beneath the spray and later clean on the bed, Zhao Yunlan thought.
Šeǧndieþhftervdršn Veifþrkehtkvezdrk was quite a mouthful, and if Dixingians had truly lost the language, the name would obviously be sinicized by the first people who didn't know him. And if one were to sinicize such a name, one would likely ignore everything except the first syllables, and get-
Shen Wei.
Zhao Yunlan took a deep breath and considered all the other evidence. Professor Shen's odd reactions and penchant for being where the trouble was would neatly be explained, as would the Envoy's excess care for Li Qian and large knowledge of human mores. They were also the same height, had similar ways of grasping important trinkets from their soulmates, and displayed similar levels of concern for Zhao Yunlan. Really, it was logical if one thought it through.
The question was, why would Shen Wei hold his double identity secret from his soulmate? Embarrassment? Trying to seduce Zhao Yunlan with a sense of mystique? Did he simply forget, stressed as he was by the date?
Then again, it wasn't like Zhao Yunlan had been completely frank, either. At some point he'd have to bring up his father-related issues. Perhaps that and bringing up Shen Wei's double identity could both wait for the third date.