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Shen Wei patrolled the street, but didn't feel any traces of dark energy. The Dixingian he'd felt earlier must've run off already. Wise enough, even if the new SID Chief wasn't as trigger-happy as his father.
He sighed. This miscreant was gone; he should just find a dark place in which to portal and leave for his staff dorm.
There had been a shaded alley corner a few streets back. Shen Wei turned around and walked. The streetlamps blinked on against the dusk.
In the light of a nearby one, a familiar figure walked towards him. Shen Wei's heart skipped a beat.
The organ continued its thump-thump as they approached each other. The blood rushed and flowed, the oxygen delivery system normally so easy to ignore making its existence known, his heart pounding it through his arteries and veins.
“Kunlun?”
Kunlun turned his head. “Who?”
The blood which had moments ago rushed hotly through him turned to ice in an instant. “I'm Shen Wei,” he said. “Don't you remember? Ten thousand years ago-”
Kunlun scoffed. “Ten thousand years? Do I look that wrinkled?” He glanced at his wrist – some sort of bracelet, silver with green stones – and walked off without so much as a second glance.
“Kunlun?” Shen Wei called after him, heart still hammering in his chest.
Kunlun stopped. “If you truly have cause to come to me, call.” He tossed a card over his shoulder and walked away.
Shen Wei could only watch, frozen in place, as he disappeared down the street and got into a black car. Only once Kunlun had gone, gone, left Shen Wei's presence out of his own will rather than the Hallows' insistence, did Shen Wei bend to take the business card.
Bai Qi, spiritual doctor.
Shen Wei frowned. Was this some euphemism for things related to dark energy? But Kunlun had to the best of Shen Wei's knowledge been a normal person. He hoped it wasn't something completely unsupported by evidence, like that classmate of his who'd given him a speech on curing “bad vibes” by stuffing pessaries up various orifices.
It was Kunlun, and Kunlun would only act in people's best interests, Shen Wei decided. Maybe a spiritual doctor was a psychologist for the religious. He tucked the business card in his suit jacket and portaled home.
Tracking down Bai Qi took days. It was late Friday afternoon, Shen Wei had just finished up early in the lab and told an exhausted Li Qian to go rest, and he now knew Bai Qi lived in a hotel. He would simply have to wait for Bai Qi to emerge.
The hotel's yard was quite picturesque: it had a carp pond with a path around it, a fountain, and recessed seating lowered into the pond. Shen Wei sat in the recessed nook, looking at the hotel door.
Eventually, Bai Qi came out. “You again.”
“Yes.” Shen Wei steeled himself. “I must ask – is it possible you've lost some memories?”
Bai Qi stared at him. He glanced at his bracelet again. “Who are you?”
“I'm Shen Wei.” Would Kunlun remember Shen Wei, remember the young Black-Cloaked Envoy who'd looked up at him with such adoration, or had such things been so commonplace as to be forgettable to his older and wiser self? “You named me, during the War. It was just the two of us beneath the Moon.”
Another glance at the bracelet. “You're just an ordinary human. Stop wasting my time.”
“But-”
Bai Qi glared at him. “My heart has already been dedicated to a woman. Next to her, you are nothing.”
Shen Wei stared at him. His heart had skipped a beat at the thought of himself in Kunlun's heart, but no, how could he be so selfish? As long as Kunlun cared for him one whit, he could gladly share.
“You are very easy to read,” Bai Qi said. “There is no need for us to meet again. Farewell.” He turned and left, a heartwrenchingly handsome picture as he heartbreakingly didn't so much as glance over his shoulder.
Shen Wei was left alone beneath the overcast skies.
His legs took him away, somewhere, he knew not where he was walking, just that he was. Far away from the hotel, when the day had darkened to dusk, he was at the side of a mountain road. He sat down.
Kunlun didn't like him.
Not in the way Kunlun had liked him in the past, not in the ways Shen Wei had fantasized about during their separation, not even in the way colleagues disinclined to be friends tolerated each other. He had spent his life searching, only to suffer utter and total defeat.
His eyes burned. It started drizzling. The droplets were soon joined by tears.
Drizzle then turned to rain as if the clouds were weeping with him. He was soaked wet, head to toe, but couldn't bring himself to care.
It was much after dark before his misery was disturbed. A motor's sound came and pulled up next to him.
“Hey, you okay?” the voice – Kunlun's voice – asked.
“No,” Shen Wei croaked. How could the universe give him Kunlun in his time of need when it hadn't done so in his previous depths of despair? He was probably hallucinating in a ditch somewhere. Reality had no bearing on this phantasm brought about by his suffering.
“Do you need a ride?” not-Kunlun asked. “No, scratch that, where do you live? I can drop you off.”
“The dorms are closed by now,” Shen Wei quietly said.
Not-Kunlun was silent for a moment. “Then I'll bring you home, okay? Come. Just get you out of the rain.”
“Okay,” Shen Wei whispered. He tried to stand up, but his legs were too stiff. He summoned his glaive and used that to prop himself up before dismissing it.
“You're from Dixing?” not-Kunlun asked. His features were hidden behind a motorcycle helmet, but in build as well as voice, he and Kunlun were one.
Just like Bai Qi. “And you're not.”
Not-Kunlun walked a troubled semicircle. “And I'm not. Yeah. Just- Get on the bike, okay? We can talk more once you're dry.”
Shen Wei limped over to the motorcycle. He got on behind not-Kunlun and leaned on him.
“I'll take it slow, okay?” not-Kunlun said.
Shen Wei let out a small noise of acknowledgement, and then they were off. The wind whipped past Shen Wei's ears, but his face was protected from the whipping rain by not-Kunlun's leather-clad back. Not-Kunlun was a solid presence in his arms and against his body.
They drove slowly through the streets into the city. Darkness gave way to yellow streetlamps.
Not-Kunlun pulled up at a regular block of apartments and bundled Shen Wei into the blessed warmth of the indoors. “Sorry for the mess,” not-Kunlun said as he led Shen Wei into his home and sought out a towel and a dry change of clothes.
Shen Wei stripped and toweled at himself before putting on not-Kunlun's clothing. From underwear to sweater, he was clad in someone else's clothes, soft and warm.
Not-Kunlun had made tea. After he'd set his own clothes out to dry, Shen Wei let himself be sat on the leather couch, towel wrapped around his shoulders like a cloak. His joints didn't want to move and his bones ached as he recovered from the damp chill.
“I'm Zhao Yunlan,” not-Kunlun said, hesitant for some reason Shen Wei didn't have the wherewithal to name.
“Shen Wei.”
“That's a good name,” Zhao Yunlan said.
“It was given to me by someone very dear,” Shen Wei said. The tea was a touch overbrewed and too warm, but it fit his mood better than cup of perfection would have.
Zhao Yunlan stared at him. “You were crying,” he eventually said.
“I thought-” Shen Wei swallowed. The tea didn't divulge anything to him no matter how he stared at it. Was this what dreaming had felt like when he still did it? He'd forgotten. “I thought I'd found an old friend I'd been torn away from. But the person rebuffed me.”
“What was this old friend like?”
Shen Wei turned to look at Zhao Yunlan. The hair was wrong. “He was a great general full of tactical advice. He was also the first to treat me as something more than a tool.” Shen Wei swallowed and reached out to part Zhao Yunlan's hair. Zhao Yunlan let him. “He looked just like you.”
“So, who was this great general?” Zhao Yunlan asked with an odd expression on his face. “Ma Gui?”
“No.” Shen Wei turned back to his teacup. It was empty. He must have drunk it without noticing. “Kunlun.”
“A figure of yore nonetheless,” Zhao Yunlan said. He poured more tea for Shen Wei. As he was putting the teapot back, he froze. “Uh, how old are you?”
Shen Wei stared at his reflection in the mellow liquid before downing it in one go. “I ... was kept in a sort of suspended animation. For a long time.”
Zhao Yunlan's expression grew pained. “I don't know how much you've missed, but ... the Treaty governing Dixing and Haixing requires that all Dixingians stay in Dixing.” He clapped Shen Wei's shoulder. “I'm sorry.”
“I know,” Shen Wei whispered. “I know.”
They sat in silence for a moment. “Would you like something stronger?” Zhao Yunlan asked. “You can stay here overnight.”
“Please.”
Zhao Yunlan brought out a bottle of something – Shen Wei didn't particularly care what it might be – and poured a mouthful into Shen Wei's teacup. “There. Chase it down with some tea.”
This, too, was a yellowish liquid, though more amber than pale. Shen Wei lifted it to his lips and drank it. It bit back. He coughed.
“Hey, don't choke,” Zhao Yunlan said.
The ethanol burned like bitter cold on its way down Shen Wei's throat, pooling hot in his belly and rising to his head like vapor. He set down the teacup. On cue, he fell into the dreamless dark.
He woke to light on his closed eyes and the hum of a vacuum cleaner in his ears. He blinked his eyes as if he could dispel his headache by doing so.
“You're awake!” said Zhao Yunlan, who had not been a figment of Shen Wei's imagination after all. He was wielding a vacuum cleaner inefficiently and had cleaning cloths tucked into his pockets. “Your glasses are on the table. I figured you wouldn't want them to bend.”
“Thank you.” Shen Wei put his glasses back on. He was in Zhao Yunlan's bed, wearing Zhao Yunlan's clothes, and everything here smelled of Zhao Yunlan, who smelled like Kunlun, who had tolerated Shen Wei's in hindsight cringeworthy attempts to covertly sniff him so as to appreciate him with as many senses as possible.
“Sorry about last night; I didn't expect you to conk out.” Zhao Yunlan paused. “You know, is that a usual reaction for a Dixingian?”
“I just have a terrible tolerance,” Shen Wei said. He cast about for a topic change before Zhao Yunlan could bring up more of last night and Shen Wei would die of embarrassment. “Do you often clean early on Saturday morning?”
Zhao Yunlan winced. “No, it's just – I can't summon the Black-Cloaked Envoy into a pile of filth, you know? I have to maintain some façade of being a functional adult.”
“Ah.” Zhao Yunlan knew Shen Wei was from Dixing, and wanted to summon the Black-Cloaked Envoy to take him away. Shen Wei's head already hurt; trying to figure out how to get out of this with his disguise intact only excacerbated it.
“Look, it's going to be a bit before I'm done cleaning; if you have any calls to make, now's a good time.” Zhao Yunlan glanced at Shen Wei's suit where it was hung out to dry. “I bet you must be really popular.”
“No need,” Shen Wei said. He wasn't getting out of this, was he?
Zhao Yunlan looked at him doubtingly. “You can change your mind at any time. I'll tell you when I'll summon the Envoy.”
“No need,” Shen Wei repeated.
“Look, the Treaty says no Dixingians-”
Shen Wei rose off the bed. “No need,” he said, transforming to his Envoy's robes.
Zhao Yunlan's jaw fell open. He sat down and placed his head in his hands. “You- you-”
The mask sat uncomfortably on Shen Wei's sore face. He transformed back into Zhao Yunlan's soft clothes.
“What the fuck?” Zhao Yunlan laughed. He patted the floor next to him.
Shen Wei sat. “I live in Haixing.” He considered what Zhao Yunlan would be able to find out now that he knew his name. “I'm a professor of bioengineering at the university.”
“A professor?” Zhao Yunlan peered at him. His hair was still parted at the forehead like Kunlun's. “Such a catch. What the hell was that guy thinking?”
A better question would be what the hell Zhao Yunlan was thinking. Shen Wei stared at him flatly.
“You know, Brother Black, I was wondering about how many missing persons reports we generate,” Zhao Yunlan breezily continued, looking at the ceiling and thus missing Shen Wei's eyes widening at the nickname. “You Dixingians look like us, and you can hold down jobs just like us. At least some of you must've had people concerned about you and trying to track you down when we took you away. Colleagues. Friends. Spouses.”
Shen Wei found his heart start hammering in his chest again. “How would you correct this, then?”
Zhao Yunlan hesitated. “Maybe we could just let them be if they don't cause harm?” he suggested, looking at Shen Wei through the corner of his eye. “I don't think heartbroken university professors need to be deported just because they had the misfortune of being picked up by the SID Chief. Besides, lao-Chu says Dixing doesn't have opticians.”
“You...” Shen Wei's mind was exploding for reasons unrelated to the headache. The apple had fallen so far from the tree as to be in a completely different galaxy. “Certainly.”
“That's decided, then,” Zhao Yunlan said and clapped Shen Wei on the shoulder. He caught a thought and patted Shen Wei's shoulder a few times as he mulled it over. “I know I'm not your Kunlun, and I can be a heartless bastard at times, but if you're lonely in your jade palace you can come to me, okay? I can introduce you to human customs like eating unhealthy food and watching terrible TV.”
Shen Wei adjusted his glasses. “I-” He was cut off by his stomach rumbling loudly. “Sorry, I didn't eat dinner.”
Zhao Yunlan jumped to his feet. “Then I'll order lunch for us,” he declared and pulled out a phone.
The vacuum cleaner was still running where it had fallen. Shen Wei turned it off.
Perhaps he'd never get to meet Kunlun again, despite Kunlun's promise. But who ended up with their first love in this modern world? He had his friends. He'd gladly count Zhao Yunlan amongst them, no matter what direction their acquaintance went.