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Zhao Yunlan opens his eyes to total darkness. Something heavy presses down on him, holding him in place. With what little freedom of movement he has left, he wriggles his fingers, knocking loose a clump of dirt. He blinks, suddenly aware of the edge of a rock scraping against his cheek.
Well. Waking up buried alive wasn't in his plans today (or ever, really), but there's no use complaining about it now. At least he isn't panicking, which will help conserve oxygen. A part of him wants to believe that it's the shock keeping him so preternaturally calm. But Zhao Yunlan has thrown himself into too many precarious situations not to recognize what is and isn't a natural reaction for him. To have his pulse not even quicken, to feel no urgency at all is a real cause for concern. Especially since he can't seem to breathe.
Can't? No, that's not right. It's not that he can't breathe. He's not breathing at all.
Huh.
Come to think of it, can it be that the reason his heart isn't racing is because… it isn't beating at all? It makes sense that he'd be underground if he's dead. Though he can't help but be a little disappointed that he became a ghost too late to attend his own funeral. At the very least, if he had haunted those slackers at the SID while they were planning his funeral, maybe he could have guilted them into shelling out some money for a proper coffin.
He shifts until the pebble that somehow got stuck under his elbow rolls away. No. That's not right either. If he's become a ghost, he'd hardly be so uncomfortable. His mind runs through the options. A zombie? He curls his fingers against his palm and relief floods through his mind. No rotting flesh and no urge to eat brains. No desperate thirst for blood either, which should hopefully rule out vampires.
Thump.
Zhao Yunlan frowns. So he does have a heartbeat. Just an extremely slow one. Curious, he closes his eyes and counts. At first, he has no trouble keeping his focus, even as the numbers climb into the tens, the twenties, and the thirties. Once he breaks the hundred second mark, however, he almost loses count, distracted with millions of speculations, each one worse than the last.
Thump.
A hot, remorseless sun shines in a cloudless blue sky, its sudden appearance almost blinding him. Zhao Yunlan instinctively goes to squeeze his eyes shut, only to remember that he'd already closed them. Thankfully, the view pulls back in time to save his eyesight.
The sun sets, its dying embers highlighting the figures of two men standing side by side on a cliff. Their backs are to Zhao Yunlan, so he can't see their faces. But judging by their body language, they look to be old friends, the kind that can be at ease in a comfortable silence with each other.
The moon rises. One of the men is facing Zhao Yunlan now — or more accurately, he's turning to gaze at his companion — his mask unable to conceal eyes that seem to shine with the light of the stars. Then the masked figure tilts his face up at the moon with a brilliant smile, and his companion playfully snatches his mask away.
And oh, he's so beautiful it's devastating, a pure, undiluted joy emanating off him. It makes Zhao Yunlan want to linger in this moment forever, captivated by this shining beacon in the darkness. The light flares for the last time, its intensity almost overwhelming, before extinguishing. The smoke of war rises, casting a monstrous shadow that cannot be ignored.
The young man loses his companion, and time freezes. His hand remains out-stretched, reaching for someone who's no longer there.
Zhao Yunlan isn't a sentimental man. Yet somehow, that cold heart of his that's never moved for anyone before now aches for this stranger's loss.
The young man drops his hand, his shoulders slumping. Time marches on anew, and the young man becomes a whirlwind of death, the flurry of his blade fast and lethal. There's too much blood, too much loss. When a white-cloaked figure stumbles into a chasm where the earth has cracked itself open, he stubbornly holds his hand out once more. This time, he refuses to pull back or return to the battle. The earth is rumbles, and he loses his footing —
Now. Zhao Yunlan doesn't know where the voice comes from, but he lets it spur him into action. Flying downward, he sees his hands gain color and shape until they're solid enough to grasp the young man's shoulder. He expends all his strength on a single shove before he shatters into a million pieces. It's enough. The young man clambers to his feet at the edge of the chasm and stares up at the sky.
Floating incorporeal, Zhao Yunlan watches time speed up at a dizzying pace until everything is a blur except a single, solitary figure standing stalwart.
The young man doesn't take his mask off anymore, and he stops smiling. His steps grow heavier and slower. And one day, they stop. This time when he falls, Zhao Yunlan isn't there to save him. Lying bloody on the ground, he closes his eyes as the earth swallows him up.
Weighed down by a grief and yearning so intense he can scarcely believe it can be his own, it takes Zhao Yunlan several seconds to realize that his heart is racing. And when he draws in a shuddering breath, he finds himself back in his bedroom, the Longevity Dial glowing against his chest.
The responsible thing to do after that dream would be to head to the SID and get Lin Jing to put the Longevity Dial under a microscope. In fact, if he were being responsible, he would have never taken it out of the lab to begin with. There's too much they don't know about this thing, beyond a name they found digging through dusty tomes in the SID library. But he's the only one who can get this thing to react, and he's hesitant to tell the Regent about it until he figures out why. Especially if the Regent is behind the attacks to steal this artifact in the first place.
Zhao Yunlan exhales and focuses his attention back on his driving. This is the most reckless he's been in following his instincts, not helped by his fear that this strange Dixing artifact is influencing him. But he can't shake the conviction that if he wastes any time tracking down the location shown to him in his dream, he'd be too late. Almost on cue, the throbbing in his head intensifies, its persistent tempo like the beating of a war drum forcing him to match onward. Tightening his grip on the steering wheel, he floors the accelerator.
Red dots dance at the edge of his vision. He's vaguely aware of stumbling out of his jeep before falling to his knees. The compulsion to scratch and claw and dig leaves little room for rationality. A small voice reminding him of the shovel in the trunk of his jeep is ruthlessly silenced. He's not sure where the certainty comes from. He only knows that he's close. And if he wastes even one more second, he would be too late.
When his fingers dig into soft fabric, his headache finally tapers off. With a mix of awe and curiosity, he brushes aside the final layer of dirt to reveal the same masked figure he saw in his dream. Carefully, he removes the young man's mask, stepping back when the young man's eyes fly open.
"Hello. The name's Zhao Yunlan. I think I've seen you before."
Zhao Yunlan doesn't even realize that he's missed seeing this young man's smile until it's aimed at him, as radiant as a clear night's moon.
"Yes." When the young man speaks, his voice is breathless. "I've waited for you for ten thousand years."
The worst part about having done an impulsive, irresponsible thing is losing the high ground when it comes time to discipline your subordinates for doing the exact same thing. He was planning to introduce Shen Wei to the team, get him a new ID, and maybe even shell out money for a team dinner. But no sooner had he sat Shen Wei down next to Lin Jing did Da Qing and Guo Changcheng rush in with the most pissed off Dixingren he's seen in a long time. Zhao Yunlan stares at the shivering Guo Changcheng, then turns to Da Qing. Zhu Hong has already circled behind the Dixingren, and she gives him a brief nod before resuming her casual stance. It's good that at least one person here still has some semblance of good judgment.
"Okay," says Zhao Yunlan after letting them sweat a bit. "Let's start from the beginning."
Guo Changcheng must have been some kind of delicate plant Yashou in the past life, one of those fragile indoor plants requiring just the right temperature and watering schedule, because he completely wilts in on himself instead of answering.
"Lao Zhao, stop giving the newbie a hard time," says Da Qing with a roll of his eyes. "I'll take responsibility for this. It all started when Xiao Guo here managed to stumble onto our fugitive today—"
"—I found him, actually," clarifies the Dixingren. "I judged him to be the weakest member on your team and the easiest one to approach."
"And after I ran into them both, I generously decided to hear this guy out, and he ended up having something interesting to say. So here he is, we've brought him in under our informant program after going through all the proper protocols." Da Qing smiles innocently. "Unlike a certain SID Chief here."
"Fair enough." Zhao Yunlan glances over at the young man - or rather, the ten-thousand-year-old Dixingren - named Shen Wei and sighs. He really isn't in any position to give Da Qing and Guo Changcheng any grief over their choices. "Let's fast forward the hostage negotiation and get to the part where he has valuable enough information for you to take him here instead of turning him in."
Pretending not to hear Zhao Yunlan's accusations, Da Qing barrels on. "This man's name is Chu Shuzhi, better known as Puppet Master. We got a notice from Dixing a few days ago to be on the lookout for him."
"One of the top brass from the Dixing rebellion." Zhao Yunlan whistles. "I'm impressed."
Chu Shuzhi's face remains deadpan. "You know that our rebellion has never touched Haixing. We have enough problems at home to worry about."
Zhao Yunlan makes a noncommittal noise, suppressing his frustration at the deteriorated state of relations between Dixing and Haixing. He doesn't know, and operating only on the scraps that Dixing feeds the SID is finally catching up to them. He looks into Chu Shuzhi's eyes and sees a surprising frankness in them. Not a manipulator or a smooth talker. An interesting choice for a negotiator.
"This is about to change," continues Chu Shuzhi. "There is another rebellion brewing. This one aimed at Haixing."
"It's very generous of you to warn us," says Zhao Yunlan, not entirely insincere. "I assume you want our assistance in eliminating your rivals?"
Chu Shuzhi takes a second to give Zhao Yunlan an assessing look. "This isn't something as petty as rivalry. These 'rebels' are backed by the Regent and his lackeys. Because he obviously hasn't done enough damage to Dixing already."
Zhao Yunlan tenses. "Is he trying to provoke a war?"
"I can't say for sure," replies Chu Shuzhi. "Directing the people's anger towards Haixing seems like a plot he'd cook up to save his own skin. It's possible he hasn’t thought through the consequences. Dixing has been dying a slow, drawn-out death over the years, but everything has been deteriorating a lot faster in the past year."
A loud crackling sound startles everyone, and people are forced to dive away from their desks when sparks suddenly shoot out of their electronics. The lights go out with a popping sound and Lin Jing curses.
In the swaying twilight shadows that now spread through the room, Zhao Yunlan sees Shen Wei rush towards Chu Shuzhi and grab him by the arm.
"What did you just say?"
The sight should have been comical. Shen Wei in his ill-fitting suit and his newly cropped hair looks more like a fresh-faced university graduate going to his first job interview than a credible threat. Meanwhile, Chu Shuzhi has both the height and bulk advantage, and the permanent scowl on his face is enough to warn even the most fool-hardy people against approaching him. Unexpectedly, however, it's Chu Shuzhi who takes a startled step back, his arms up in a defensive posture.
"Tell me. Please." Shen Wei's horrified whisper threads through the cracks and crevices of the room, turning everything cold as its echoes seeps into their bones. There's a shimmer in the air, like a translucent curtain swaying in the wind, hypnotic in motion.
Then reality tears itself apart.
The cold feels different. It's not the icy touch of Shen Wei's anguish encroaching on the warmth in his body. It's more like something has leeched all the heat away, leaving behind a freezing vacuum. A second ago, the fading light of the setting sun still shone. Now, the sky is empty, devoid of both sun and moon. Zhao Yunlan feels his feet move over unfamiliar rocky terrain, his steps eerily silent.
Someone zooms towards him, far faster than is natural for an ordinary human. Zhao Yunlan doesn't have time to dodge aside, but that doesn't matter, because the woman runs straight through him like he's made of air.
The faint sound of someone whimpering draws him to the entrance of a cave. The man looks haggard and gaunt, one hand clutching a bloody wound. Without a second thought, Zhao Yunlan rushes forward to help staunch the bleeding. But the man's flesh rots under his touch until only the bones remain.
Zhao Yunlan almost mistakes the scream nearby as his own. There's a dilapidated little village to his left, where a terrified man is pulled out of the way of a slobbering beast's jaws. A group of guards usher the civilians away in what must be some kind of evacuation. Ragged groups of people run past (and through) Zhao Yunlan, carrying their meager belongings. Soon, the village is abandoned.
More and more images of misery and misfortune fade in and out around him, becoming more and more difficult to tell apart.
Not fully in control of his legs, Zhao Yunlan keeps walking through each scene, his feet eventually taking him to the crumbling remains of a pillar. At first, he breathes a sigh of relief when he sees Shen Wei. But when he sees the twisted fury in a pair of eyes that used to look at him with hope, he stops in his tracks.
Shen Wei's inky black hair has become a silvery white, matching the pristine robes on his body. And the malicious smile on his face is a hateful parody of the joyful smile he gave Zhao Yunlan when they first met. It's all wrong. Everything is backwards.
"How did you like the taste of our suffering, Lord Guardian?" Shen Wei slowly licks his lips in a gesture that’s both obscene and unsettling. "Did you enjoy seeing the thoroughness of your tyranny?"
No matter how hard he tries, he can't make a sound. He settles for shaking his head furiously.
"You're right. It tastes too much like ash. Bitter. Insubstantial." Shen Wei's smile widens, showing too much teeth. "So you understand why I must sate my appetite in Haixing."
Zhao Yunlan can't understand how the Shen Wei he knew could have changed so much so quickly, even as a mocking voice in his head reminds him that he doesn't really know Shen Wei at all. A vivid dream and a shy smile (no matter how lovely) shouldn't have overcome his better judgment.
"There's no need to look so horrified." The corners of Shen Wei's mouth turn down in an exaggerated pout. "I've been imprisoned for ten thousand years. I'm starving."
Zhao Yunlan's smile feels stiff on his face. "I guess in hindsight, instant noodles and a stolen lollipop wasn't the greatest 'welcome back' meal."
Not even Zhao Yunlan can hear himself, so it's doubtful Shen Wei can either. He seems to respond to Zhao Yunlan's smile, though. His pout turns into a gleeful grin. Tilting his head back, he opens his mouth and unhinges his jaw. Impossibly, his mouth keeps growing larger, seemingly endless rows of teeth growing in to fill the gaps.
Now. A familiar, insistent voice. The Longevity Dial burns hot enough to hurt, and Zhao Yunlan rips its cord off his neck. The teeth that close in on him smell like blood and decay. He feels his flesh peel from the heat, but he doesn't let go. Holding his breath, he thrusts the Longevity Dial up past the jagged rows of teeth. The remains of the pillar shake, rattling him to his core.
One by one, the pillar's walls rebuild themselves, surrounding Shen Wei and wringing from him a sound that's strident and inhuman. Zhao Yunlan pulls his hand back and covers his ears—
"—Lao Zhao! Are you okay?"
"Not after you just yelled in my ear, damned cat!" Zhao Yunlan coughs, caught off-guard by the hoarseness in his voice. Blinking, he sits up and pushes away the concerned team members surrounding him. "Shen Wei…"
Shen Wei isn't among the people gathered near him, and for one delirious moment, Zhao Yunlan worries that he's gone off on a hungry rampage. Then he sees Chu Shuzhi holding Shen Wei in place with his electric strings — or rather, he sees Shen Wei allowing himself to be bound — and sags with relief. "Shen Wei, come here."
"Lao Zhao." Da Qing gives him a stern look. "I don't think that's a good idea."
There's a collective gasp in the room when Shen Wei easily shrugs off Chu Shuzhi's restraints, like they're nothing more than inconvenient branches that snagged on his clothes. Walking past the protests of the SID members, he helps Zhao Yunlan to his feet, his eyes never once leaving Zhao Yunlan's face.
"Shen Wei. We need to talk." Zhao Yunlan's feet are still unsteady, so he puts a hand on Shen Wei's arm.
"We all need to talk," interrupts Zhu Hong, blocking his path to his office.
Zhao Yunlan tightens his grip, clinging to this version of Shen Wei that hasn't yet become a monster. Is that why he felt such urgency when he went to dig Shen Wei out this morning? Is the vision he just experienced warning him that he made a mistake introducing Shen Wei to the modern world too quickly? Is there still time to fix this? He knows he's shirking his duties as the Chief of the SID right now, but if there's any chance of averting the disaster in his vision, he has prioritize Shen Wei.
"I'm sorry. I promise I'll give you all a debrief later. But now—" Zhao Yunlan abruptly turns around. "Hey, where do you think you're going?"
Chu Shuzhi laughs and shoulders his way past Da Qing to the door. "I came here hoping for some support or assistance. But it looks like you all have your hands full already."
"Zhao Yunlan." Shen Wei is still staring at him with an intensity that's almost unnerving. "I am willing to explain myself if it will put everyone here at ease."
Things are spiraling out of control. The soft murmur in the back of his head rises to a noisy din, each thought clamoring for his attention. So, of course the Longevity Dial chooses this moment to glow again, its light conspicuous under the collar of his t-shirt. And when Zhu Jiu bursts through the doors, the only reason Zhao Yunlan isn't surprised is because it's just been that kind of day.
"The prisoner—" Zhu Jiu points to Chu Shuzhi, then points at the Longevity Dial hanging from Zhao Yunlan's neck. "— and the artifact on your neck belongs to Dixing."
That declaration goes over about as well as Zhao Yunlan expects. Chu Shuzhi immediately adopts a threatening posture, the electricity in his hands thrumming through the air. Da Qing hisses, actually pulling out his claws as he moves in front of Zhao Yunlan, standing shoulder to shoulder with Zhu Hong, whose eyes have turned red.
Zhao Yunlan doesn't dislike Zhu Jiu, per se. He can do without the insufferable superiority complex, or the pretentious offers to play Weiqi. But underneath that pompous exterior and horrible dye job is just a guy who mostly just a little too eager to do his job well. Annoying, but not malicious. Ending up under the Regent's thumb means his obnoxiousness is often used against the SID, but Zhu Jiu's slavish devotion to some mysterious higher ideal means the irritation goes both ways. Hopefully, Zhu Jiu isn't feeling too stubborn today.
"Stand down, everyone!" shouts Zhao Yunlan, before wincing at the loudness of his own voice. "Zhu Jiu, my deputy Chief has already filed all the required paperwork to take in Chu Shuzhi as an informant with temporary immunity, so you can cool your jets on that. And you know better than anyone here that there are special procedures for transferring dark energy artifacts. We can’t just hand it over to the first purple-haired guy who asks for it."
On any other day, Zhu Jiu's shocked dismay at the word "procedure" coming out of Zhao Yunlan's mouth would be hilarious. But today, Zhao Yunlan is mostly tired and desperately in need of some peace and quiet. The weight of his father's gun is heavy in his holster. If Zhu Jiu refuses to stand down, Zhao Yunlan has no other counters for his speed.
Zhu Jiu's eyes flash dangerously, betraying his intentions. Zhao Yunlan already knows his reaction is too late, too slow. His vision goes white, and he stumbles backwards at the same time Zhu Jiu smashes into the newly formed wall of ice. The Longevity Dial is vibrating, resonating with the overwhelming waves of power permeating the air. Zhao Yunlan sits down on the floor with a grunt and rests his head between his knees. Out of the corner of his eyes, he spots the fluttering of a black robe.
"The Black-Cloaked Envoy!" Chu Shuzhi sounds so uncharacteristically reverent that he's almost unrecognizable.
"So it's true. You have betrayed us." The blur of Zhu Jiu's figure forces Zhao Yunlan to squeeze his eyes shut. There's a loud clang of a blade striking the ground, a distressed cry from Zhu Jiu, followed by the crash of the door slamming, and then finally, finally, blessed silence.
"I'm taking him home." Shen Wei's voice is low, brooking no arguments.
Zhao Yunlan thinks he hears some discontented mutterings, so he lifts a hand to wave them off. "Time to earn your bonuses! Da Qing, I'll leave the information gathering and strategy over the new rebels in Dixing to you. See if Puppet Master has any input on what we can do to help. Lin Jing, see if you can't pick up where you left off establishing a new identity for Shen Wei. Hopefully, the electronics haven't all been fried. And Zhu Hong, I expect a report on everything when I'm back."
"And… and me?"
Right. Guo Changcheng is somehow, against the odds, still around.
"I leave the team's food budget in your hands. Use your new powers responsibly."
It should probably offend him that this draws a bigger protest out of Da Qing than a stranger in black robes taking Zhao Yunlan away. He opens his mouth to insult the damned cat, but a yawn comes out instead. Then he's being gently lowered onto his bed (wasn't he just in the SID a second ago?), and drifts off into an exhausted sleep.
When Zhao Yunlan wakes up again, he feels like he has the world's worst hangover. There's a vice squeezing his head, and his neck is sore. He runs his tongue over his cracked lips, but it's not enough to soothe the dryness in his mouth. Thankfully though, his pillows and bed covers are softer and more comfortable than he remembers. And despite it being nighttime, the curtains are shut tight against even the dim glow of the streetlights.
Zhao Yunlan blinks. If this is another dream, it seems oddly peaceful compared to the ones he had before. With a grateful sigh, he sits up and accepts the cup of water that's pressed into his hands. The thick fabric of Shen Wei's robes folds around him, warm and solid. Reassuring. It's almost enough to make him forget the harrowing sensation of sharp teeth scraping against his skin.
"Zhao Yunlan." Shen Wei pronounces his name carefully, rolling the syllables over his tongue like he's savoring the sound. "I had to take the Longevity Dial away from you. You were being overwhelmed by its power."
"Yeah. I think—" It showed me visions of your past and future. "—That's probably for the best."
Shen Wei relaxes a tiny fraction. Without his mask, he can't quite hide the flicker of concern on his face that melts into relief. This lack of guile is strangely at odds with the ageless depths of his eyes.
Or maybe not? For a brief instant, their eyes meet, and Shen Wei ducks his head.
Turning thoughtful, Zhao Yunlan adds another point to his observations, still unwilling to draw the obvious conclusion. Not even he's egotistical enough to think that an ancient being who's watched the rise and fall of civilizations is acting flustered and smitten around him. Besides, the kind of infatuation that springs out of dramatic first meetings like theirs tends to burn bright and out of control - a far cry from the steady devotion that shines through Shen Wei's every look and action, patient and unwavering.
Wordlessly, Zhao Yunlan allows Shen Wei to wrap the black robe tighter around him as they lapse into silence. This quiet intimacy between two almost-strangers should have been awkward. There are too many unspoken questions and hidden expectations hanging over their heads. And Zhao Yunlan definitely shouldn't be so accepting of this blatant misuse of dark energy for healing. Maybe they both need this, though. A slight reprieve before they jump into a conversation about everything that's at stake. At the very least, Zhao Yunlan is thankful that he won't be going into it with a pounding headache, questionable uses of powers aside.
"I'm sorry I lost control today." Shen Wei is the first to break the silence. "It won't happen again."
Zhao Yunlan makes another note. Regret instead of anger. An apology and a promise. It's… encouraging. Placing a hand on Shen Wei's shoulder, he guides Shen Wei to sit down next to him. "You don't have to apologize. It's my own fault for throwing you in the deep end like that. Believe it or not, the original plan was just to get you an ID, and maybe let you surf the net for a bit while we chat. Order you some better food. Get you caught up on things. Slowly."
Shen Wei leans imperceptibly into his touch, the movement so subtle that Zhao Yunlan almost misses it.
"You couldn't have foreseen what happened today. And…" Shen Wei trails off. "It pains me to admit it, but it's my own home that I need to re-learn. Not Haixing, which has filled my dreams for ten thousand years."
There isn't anything he can say to that. To be trapped in a waking dream for millennia, cut off from the world he knew… That Shen Wei isn't more messed up is actually a little beyond belief. Gently, Zhao Yunlan gives Shen Wei's shoulder a light squeeze and waits.
"I…" Shen Wei's breath quickens. "I thought the Treaty was working. Haixing was thriving, so I assumed… I didn't try hard enough to break the barriers locking me out. I should have been suspicious that they didn't want me to see."
Shen Wei has gone rigid under his hand, his eyes fixed to the floor. Carefully, Zhao Yunlan moves his thumb in soothing circles. He's not sure what he's expecting to accomplish. It seems like nothing more than a token gesture, a drop in the ocean of what Shen Wei really needs. But his instincts have felt off-kilter ever since they met. Maybe even before that. Unfortunately, at this point, his instincts are all he has. He can't treat Shen Wei like a distraught rookie in need of coaxing. His usual trick of pushing and prodding at the boundaries until the shield around Shen Wei cracks won't work either (too dangerous, too dishonest, too callous).
"Hey. Come on." Zhao Yunlan nudges him. "No one's shoulders are wide enough to bear all this blame you're putting on yourself."
Shen Wei trembles once, before pulling himself back together. His muscles are tense as he shifts and raises his head. And when Zhao Yunlan is hit full force with the yearning in Shen Wei's eyes, barely restrained yet desperately seeking approval (his approval?), he almost lunges forward to shake Shen Wei until some answers fall out. He's done nothing to deserve the importance Shen Wei has placed on his opinion. And he's nowhere near qualified to receive Shen Wei's trust, to see this open display of vulnerability.
"None of this is your fault or your responsibility," says Zhao Yunlan forcefully.
"They think I'm a traitor." Shen Wei looks down again, resting his clenched fists on his thighs.
Zhao Yunlan doesn't let himself think or second-guess himself. He wraps his arm around Shen Wei and pulls him into a tight embrace. "Okay, listen. Here's the first thing you need to know about Dixing after ten thousand years. The Regent - the guy in charge - is a spineless liar. If the rumors he spread about you had been all about how great and amazing you are… I might have put you handcuffs on the spot. And these wouldn't be the fun kind of handcuffs. Well, I mean. I don't know. Power-suppressing handcuffs could be fun. But I wouldn't be using them that way."
Zhao Yunlan is a little disappointed when Shen Wei pulls away and begins fussing with his clothes, meticulously smoothing out the wrinkles of his shirt and adjusting his cuffs, avoiding his eyes. Was his joke too much? Too inappropriate? But when Shen Wei looks up again, his smile has lost none of its radiance or sincerity. It's all too fleeting, but Zhao Yunlan is pleased to see that it's still there.
"Earlier today, I was given a glimpse of all the suffering in Dixing." Shen Wei's gaze turns distant, unreadable.
There's a lengthy pause. Zhao Yunlan swallows, his throat tightening. "Did you see the same things I did?" Did you see yourself?
Shen Wei slumps slightly. "So that figure shrouded in light was you. I had hoped it wasn't."
"It doesn't change the way I see you." Zhao Yunlan's words come out in a rush, surprising in their vehemence. It's irrational, possibly foolish, but it's the truth. Even as he told himself to tread cautiously, he was looking for any excuse to trust Shen Wei.
"Thank you, Zhao Yunlan." A shaky smile appears on Shen Wei's face. "You don't know how much this means to me. That you chose a leap of faith over the safer, easier choice."
Zhao Yunlan shrugs. "It's not easy or safe, but it's the right choice. I'm not going to condemn you for something that may pass in the future. If you're willing to work with me to prevent this from happening?"
There's a complicated expression on Shen Wei's face, several parts gratitude mixed with a heavy dose of guilt. "I would like to try handling this myself first. If you don't mind? I swear that I will not betray your trust or my duty to protect the innocent. And when it's time… I'll tell you everything."
"But why? If there's something out there that can turn you into the person we both saw, you shouldn't take this on alone."
"I have to," pleads Shen Wei. "Please."
Zhao Yunlan sighs. "How about a compromise then? We have a venting session. Just the two of us. At least once a week. Yell, punch something, cry. If anything is upsetting you, we get it out of your system. You don't have to tell me why if you don't want to."
Shen Wei hesitates, then nods. "All right. And... I could cook you dinner?"
"You know how to cook?" Zhao Yunlan can't tell if Shen Wei's offer is genuine based on the sad state of his kitchen, or if this is an attempt to change the subject. Either way, he's going to have to do some soul searching if a guy who's been buried underground for ten thousand years somehow learned more about cooking than he did.
"Of course. I was thinking I could hunt up some bears for our next meal?"
Zhao Yunlan almost goes into an earnest explanation of grocery shopping before he notices a twitch of Shen Wei's lips. All the tension that he never noticed building up in himself drains out in a rush. And when he laughs, it's relieved, giddy, and infectious enough to draw another dazzling smile out of Shen Wei.
Second time's the charm. They return to the SID in much better shape than before, well-rested and more grounded. Shen Wei's apology, polite and succinct, is graciously accepted by everyone in the room, even Lin Jing, who claims that it's given him ideas for crafting a better dark energy shield. Zhao Yunlan's apology, on the other hand, is met by threats of paperwork (Da Qing) and requests for compensation via bonuses (everyone). In other words, his apology is accepted as well.
Allowing himself a brief moment of respite, he sits down next to Da Qing's chubby cat form and scratches Da Qing's chin. The motion is comforting in its familiarity, distracting him from the urge to insinuate himself into Shen Wei and Chu Shuzhi's conversation. It doesn't stop his gaze from straying in their general direction though.
And as he watches them, Zhao Yunlan notices for the first time how differently Shen Wei carries himself around the others. It's subtle. His posture is still the same, proper and attentive. But beneath his respectful exterior is a layer of steel that keeps him still and holds his brimming powers in check. He looks powerful. Assured. All his vulnerabilities carefully patched over.
Chu Shuzhi's face is stony as he speaks, not mincing his words, heedless of the tight press of Shen Wei's lips or Shen Wei's occasional flinch. It's necessary, but cruel. Or maybe he's simply not letting himself see the cracks in Shen Wei's armor, unwilling to shatter the hope that the Black-Cloaked Envoy's legend offers. That's a kinder interpretation.
Their voices get quieter as the conversation continues, and Zhao Yunlan swears he can see Shen Wei age before his eyes. Then, there's a nod and a final agreement is reached. Chu Shuzhi has barely stood up when Zhao Yunlan rushes there in a whirlwind of movement. He pulls a startled Shen Wei to the couch and plops Da Qing on Shen Wei's lap. Da Qing only has time to shoot him a disgruntled glare before being immediately won over by the expert touch of Shen Wei's hands scratching and stroking his fur.
Ten thousand years stretches between them, incomprehensible in its scale. Zhao Yunlan can't help Shen Wei understand what happened to his home in Dixing. And he doesn't need to repeat what Shen Wei has already seen of Haixing in his waking dreams. But he can tell Shen Wei stupid, pointless stories. And he can show Shen Wei all the little wonders and discoveries that were too insignificant to be notable.
Technology turns out not to be Shen Wei's forte, so Zhao Yunlan has to abandon his plans of giving Shen Wei a cell phone and trying to coax him into taking some selfies. Under Da Qing's (very selfish) encouragement, however, Shen Wei takes in all the new cooking advances like a sponge. Their grocery list and food budget balloons, but he can't feel too upset about it when Shen Wei looks so enthusiastic. In retaliation, he wrings a resentful promise out of Da Qing to clean the fridge and calls it even.
There's a natural lull in the conversation after that. Da Qing bumps his head against Shen Wei's hand, purring when Shen Wei scratches him behind the ears. There's a fond smile on Shen Wei's face filled with contentment, and Zhao Yunlan can't help smiling in return.
"In a perfect world, moments like these would last forever." Zhao Yunlan isn't sure what prompted him to say his thoughts out loud. This strange wistfulness is not his usual brand of impulsiveness. He tries to gauge Shen Wei's reaction, wondering if it's too much too soon.
Time slows to a crawl. The ticking of the clocks hanging on the wall become louder, each passing second conspicuous and unhurried.
"Like this?" Shen Wei's eyes are dark and unreadable.
Zhao Yunlan's voice comes out in a hushed whisper. "How?"
"I'm not sure where I learned this power either." Shen Wei's gaze turns distant. "A defensive coping mechanism, maybe. To compress the perception of time when the loneliness becomes too much. Or to extend it when there's a small pocket of happiness to be had."
Zhao Yunlan blinks, his mind reeling. It makes Shen Wei mildly less terrifying that he can't control the very fabric space and time. But to be able to influence every thought and every sense in a sphere is a different kind of disconcerting.
"You dislike it. I shouldn't have done this. I had promised to control my powers, and I—"
"No," interrupts Zhao Yunlan. "It's… it's a lot. But I think I could stay here. For a little while, at least."
There's a certain sense of luxury in carving out a tiny niche of solitude and peace in a bustling office. No more words are spoken. The solid feel of Shen Wei by his side grounds him, allowing his mind to float aimlessly without losing himself. Eventually, time speeds up, almost imperceptibly, until the sounds of the rest of the world wash over them once more. And just like this, the rest of the day passes comfortably between friends, both old and new.
The path they take through the woods is narrow and secluded. The morning sun filters through the trees, golden and resplendent. As they approach to their destination, several figures standing in the center of a clearing comes into view. Slowing his steps, Zhao Yunlan runs a finger along the intricate embroidery on Shen Wei's hood to get his attention.
"You ready?" asks Zhao Yunlan.
In his full Black-Cloaked Envoy outfit, Shen Wei looks confident and dignified. But when he turns to Zhao Yunlan, his gaze softens. "To be honest, I still haven't fully come to terms with the idea of joining the rebels. I've spent so many years fighting them in the past."
"It's a different rebel group now. And a different Dixing. You heard what Zhu Jiu said. They don't plan to give you the power to change things from within." Zhao Yunlan's finger continues its path down Shen Wei's hood, over his shoulders, before his hand comes to a rest on the small of Shen Wei's back. Something seems to have shifted between him and Shen Wei, this man who he's known for a day yet has watched for millennia. For a moment, the air crackles with intriguing possibilities.
"I hope that's the case. If it's the Treaty at fault, if I had chosen poorly…"
"It's not. There's no system that’s perfect enough to withstand corruption. And the Treaty's not the reason Dixing has been losing its resources." Zhao Yunlan feels Shen Wei lean in against him.
"Maybe you're right," murmurs Shen Wei.
"Of course I'm right." Zhao Yunlan gives him a cocky grin. "With you and Chu Shuzhi coordinating from Dixing, and me doing what I can to get the forces in Haixing on-board - you know, that whole cooperation clause in the Treaty - we'll figure out what's wrong, and we'll fix this."
Shen Wei inclines his head in a shallow bow. "It is always an honor to fight side by side with you."
It's too formal. Almost too intense. On an impulse, Zhao Yunlan presses a kiss on the edge of Shen Wei's mask. Pulling away, he's gratified to see a light flush on Shen Wei's cheeks. "Don't forget to come back for our dinner dates."
"I won't."
With one last lingering look, Shen Wei turns and joins the people standing in the clearing. Stepping into the portal, he returns home for the first time in ten thousand years.