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In the midst of battle, with the sounds of swords clashing and bloodcurdling screams resounding across the battlefield, stood the great warlord Kunlun, his firearm locked on its target, shooting straight and true. Kunlun’s opponent was his greatest enemy of all time, both past and present confounded—the White Lord Yezun. Kunlun, or rather, Zhao Yunlan, hadn’t expected to find Yezun in this timeline, but he wasn’t all too surprised by the fact that he was behind the plots to overthrow order in ancient Haixing by taking control of the Hallows.
Unlike his brother, Yezun was an evildoer whose malevolence knew no bounds and, when he had suddenly decided to attack his long-lost brother, the little soldier Shen Wei, Zhao Yunlan had lost no time in discharging his weapon in an attempt to save the stunned soldier from certain doom. However, as he had soon discovered, his bullets were like gentle dewdrops on a blade of grass, easily flicked away by Yezun's powers and unable to touch even a single hair from his head. Just as despair and panic had started to settle in Kunlun’s heart, the famed Hallows had reacted to his anguish and torn the sky asunder, swallowing everything down below in great gusts of wind.
“Shen Wei! Shen Wei!” called out Zhao Yunlan as he desperately fought against the powers of the Hallows, digging his heels into the ground to avoid being sucked in.
Shen Wei had locked eyes with him from across the battlefield as he lay half-paralyzed on the ground from Yezun’s most recent attack—an incapacitating wave of dark energy thrown at Shen Wei while he had had his guard down. Although unable to move, Shen Wei’s dark, expressive eyes told Zhao Yunlan everything he needed to know: the little soldier was terrified—not of dying, nor of being hurt, but of losing the only thing in his life that mattered.
“Shen Wei, whatever you do, don’t regret it!” yelled out Zhao Yunlan over the roaring winds of the void that whipped around him wildly.
And then, in the blink of an eye, the great, incomparable Kunlun was gone.
Shen Wei remembered screaming out his name as the void closed up once more, leaving place for the calm blue sky of ancient Haixing to return as if nothing were. Apart from that, Shen Wei couldn’t recall much more—his mind and heart were utterly consumed by the absolute absence created by Kunlun’s abrupt departure. Of course, Shen Wei had known for a long time that this would eventually happen; but knowing about it and living through it were two completely separate ideas.
“Gege, look at me. Look at me!” commanded Yezun, desperate for his brother’s attention, but Shen Wei’s eyes remained glued to the spot where Kunlun had been standing moments ago.
“You left me to die, gege,” continued Yezun, finally drawing Shen Wei’s eyes onto his.“Now, it’s your turn. Look at me so that I can see the light leave your eyes as I exact my revenge!”
“Didi… you have it all wrong…” tried Shen Wei brokenly, but his brother was a very unreasonable and irrational man who refused to give him the chance to explain himself.
“Enough! You betrayed me gege—abandoned me while you lived at your leisure. You must pay, and only your life can ever atone the wrongs you caused.”
As Yezun spoke, the ground beneath his feet rumbled and cracked, sputtering out small clouds of dust and heat from the depths of the Earth’s crust. Yezun’s powers were so great that when he was too angered to control them properly, they threatened to take over and consume everything in their wake. Where Shen Wei’s powers were predicated on the gentle art of learning and improving one’s mind, Yezun’s were based on consumption and greed, always seeking for more and more and more—
The earth split open beneath Yezun’s feet, causing him to lose his balance and topple over the edge of the newly form fissure.
“Gege!!” he called out desperately. For all the hatred he bore towards his brother, fear was still a greater agent that propelled him to call out to Shen Wei and seek his benevolence—he knew his brother could never refuse him; he was too gentle and kind for his own good.
Shen Wei leapt forward to clasp his brother’s hand in his own, intending to pull him up. No matter what Yezun said, or how he treated him, Shen Wei couldn’t let any harm come to his only brother—the only blood tie he had in this vast world. Yezun was simply misguided, and Shen Wei was sure that, given the proper help and counsel, he could become a better person and use his powers for good.
“Hold on!”
“Gege, come with me,” replied Yezun in an eerily calm tone despite the fear that read in his rounded eyes. Death to Ye Zun was a welcoming prospect because he had always suffered in his life, from the time of his birth until this very moment, but the same couldn’t be said about his brother who thrived to survive if only to uphold his promise to his warlord…
Shen Wei found himself falling forward into the awaiting darkness of the earth, pulled along by his brother like a siren at sea. The crushing blackness enveloped him completely, blocking his senses from anything else than the echoes in his mind. As he freefell down into the depths, his inner voice repeated a single name, over and over again:
Kunlun. Kunlun. Kunlun.
Shen Wei woke with a jolt, dislodging himself from a pile of dirt that had him half-buried and struggling to breathe. His first emotion was panic, followed by confusion as he tried to make sense of what had happened to him. The last thing he remembered was Yezun’s sneer and the sensation of the wind whizzing past his ears as he fell… everything else was lost in the utter darkness of his unconscious mind. Shen Wei couldn’t tell how much time had passed, but he felt like he must have been buried for a while, asleep and unaware of anything happening outside in the world.
“Yezun?” croaked out Shen Wei, “Yezun, where are you?” he called out and, when no answer came, he felt his initial panic rise again in his chest. Even though his brother was the cause for this unfortunate situation, Shen Wei couldn’t help but feel worried about his safety. They had, after all, only just been reunited after so many years apart.
Shen Wei flipped over and onto his knees and began to dig through the soft soil from which he had emerged in search of another body, scratching with his fingernails at the dirt and sending handfuls flying off in all directions.
“Didi, answer me! Where are you? Didi!”
[Gege]
Shen Wei’s hands stilled as Yezun’s voice suddenly replied to his plea. Relieved, Shen Wei smiled and looked around his immediate environment for his brother, but he soon found that he was the only human in sight.
[I’m here ge, can’t you tell?]
“Where? I don’t—” Shen Wei stopped himself when realization dawned on him. Yezun’s voice wasn’t coming at him from the outside, but rather from the inside: he was speaking to him from within his own head.
[Yes, there you go, now you get it,] cooed Yezun.
“How…?”
[You died, dearest brother. You died with me, so now we’re one and the same.]
Shen Wei recoiled at the words, shrinking in on himself as protection, but Yezun pressed on.
[That’s right, ge, suffer for an eternity with me. This is a much better punishment than I could have ever devised.]
“Yezun, stop it. This is not possible! How could I be dead even though I’m breathing right now?”
[Ah, physical death is but a single way of passing. You died when you gave up on yourself for the sake of your precious Kunlun.]
Coming from Yezun’s mouth, the revered name sounded so dirty and despicable, yet it triggered something in Shen Wei as his heart stirred in his chest in yearning for someone who was long gone.
It was true that after Kunlun’s disappearance, Shen Wei had felt hopeless and alone, easily giving in to his demons who were always hard to keep at bay when the light in his life wasn’t around to guide him. When the ground had cracked open beneath Yezun and dragged them both into its inky depths, Shen Wei hadn’t truly resisted the call of eternal sleep. For a brief moment of bereavement, Shen Wei thought it wouldn’t have been so bad to close his eyes and to sink into oblivion—into a place where memories of warm, smiling eyes, gentle hands, and song-like voices melted away and turned into dust.
[Oh, dear, dear brother, we’re going to have such a great time together like this, forever.]
“Didi, I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m going to free you from this hell, I promise you.”
Yezun snickered at the solemn promise and then grew silent, giving his brother a moment of welcomed respite. Shen Wei breathed a sigh of relief at the sudden silence, taking a moment to gather himself up from his untimely grave and figure out where exactly he was located. Giving his surroundings a cursory glance, Shen Wei could tell that he wasn’t very far from where the battle had taken place, gods knew how long ago.
Shen Wei dusted his black cloak and robes and, sword in hand, began picking his way through the lush vegetation that covered most of the surface of Haixing. Shen Wei was used to walking on the path of life alone—he had been alone for so long already—but this time, the loneliness seemed heavier than ever without the steady companionship of…
“Kunlun, where are you?” he sighed as his free hand moved on its own to rest against his chest where the precious golden orb containing Kunlun’s essence lay nestled in between his clavicles; a silent, heavy reminder of a joyful past that was no longer.
Shen Wei felt his heart sink into the pit of his stomach as his grief took hold of him once more. Truly, it would have been better if he had actually died on that cliffside—it would have been less painful than having to remember Kunlun’s panic-stricken eyes as he was being sucked up into the sky against his will, and his desperate cries reverberating against the wisps of wind.
Shen Wei! Shen Wei!
The little soldier closed his eyes to keep the tears from spilling over while Kunlun’s voice rang in his ears as acutely as if he were standing right next to him.
“Kunlun?”
Shen Wei, you’re so beautiful.
“Stop,” pleaded Shen Wei to no one but himself.
Shen Wei, my precious Xiao Wei.
“Stop it!” he cried out, clutching desperately at his head to stop the voice of his memories from flooding into his ears.
Shen Wei, you’re not alone. I’m here. I’m here.
“Liar…” choked out Shen Wei as he crumpled to the forest floor onto his hands and knees, wailing loudly as the crushing truth of Kunlun’s departure finally settled in his mind, ripping his heart to shreds. Of all the injuries he had suffered in his life thus far, nothing could compare to the shuddering pain of this separation and the loss of the most important being in his life.
[Ah, gege, your pain is so delicious. Please, continue to torment yourself. The more you suffer, the stronger I grow.]
“Leave me alone!” bellowed Shen Wei into the vast, empty forest.
Shen Wei lifted his sword and slashed blindly at the air as Yezun and Kunlun’s voices intermixed in his head, one laughing, the other pleading. Suddenly acting wild and erratic as the voices goaded him on, Shen Wei slashed and spun and jumped and, soon before long, his shapeless fit took on the form of a mournful dance as he twirled and twirled on himself, jabbing his sword here and there, jumping and kicking, flying between trees and rocks like a maddened raven seeking for its freedom from an invisible cage.
Sweat poured down every inch of his body, but still, the soldier continued on, pushing himself further until his breaking point—until the voices blurred and became a musical accompaniment to his feverish performance. Shen Wei struck elegant poses and long lines as his art took hold of his body and heart in a dizzying frenzy of movements meant to distract him from the memories that refused to leave him. Shen Wei’s sword danced for no one in particular until the tears in his eyes ran dry, and until his feet bleed inside his boots; then, when finally exhausted, he collapsed in a heap of dark fabric and ebony hair, blissfully deaf to all sounds in his head.
**********
“My lord, there’s been no report about the Black Envoy in so long, don’t you think it’s time we moved on?” questioned a young soldier by Ma Gui’s side.
“No, he will come here, one day. It’s his destiny. He will come, and we will be here for him when he does,” replied the greying man through a shaking yet resolved voice.
After Kunlun and Shen Wei’s disappearance, Ma Gui had stayed behind to rebuild Haixing while Fu You had moved on with her Yashou tribe to re-establish peace between the different factions. Ma Gui had been working diligently all these years, waiting for the great Hei Pao Shi to reappear and continue his work after him when he would no longer be able to… which, he figured, would be pretty soon. Ma Gui was, after all, only a mortal man, and time had caught up to the once young and strong leader, weakening him.
When the dust had settled following the last confrontation over the Hallows, the different tribes had been in need of repair, both physical and moral, and Ma Gui had spearheaded the change while Shen Wei’s old army comrades had helped carry out his legacy. Ma Gui, Fu You, and Da Qing had parted ways, saddened by Kunlun and Shen Wei’s disappearances, but hopeful that Haixing’s future was secure now that the Hallows had finally been returned to their proper place.
“My Lord, please rest for a while,” suggested the soldier, “you’ve been working long hours recently, and everyone is worried about your health.”
Ma Gui smiled benignly at the young man, suddenly reminded of another man he had nurtured from adolescence to adulthood, crafting him into the perfect tool to protect Haixing—a shining beacon of hope for all, a paragon of justice and equality that would inspire generations of young men and women to follow in his footsteps.
“Yes, I guess you’re right,” replied Ma Gui sadly. There was no denying that his body couldn’t keep up anymore with the demands of his stressful tasks. “Wake me if you hear anything, soldier,” he added before retiring to his chambers at the far end of the cave that had been his home for the past fifty years.
The next time Ma Gui woke, he found a raven-haired youth sitting by candlelight near his bedside, looking tired and weather-worn, but still unmistakably as beautiful and gentle as the last time Ma Gui had seen him. Ma Gui jolted from his sleep as he immediately recognized the handsome man clothed in black from head to toe.
“Shen Wei…” he said softly, afraid that he was seeing a ghost and that he might frighten it away if he spoke too loudly. “Is that really you?”
“Ma Gui…”
“Shen Wei, I knew you’d come back my boy, I knew it. I’ve been waiting for you to come back and claim your rightful place.”
“Ma Gui, I’m not the same anymore,” replied Shen Wei as emotions caught in his throat and made him struggle to keep an even tone.“I died out there, and now I’m not sure if I’m a ghost or a human.”
“What are you talking about…”
“I died—Yezun said…”
“Yezun? The White Lord?”
Shen Wei nodded helplessly, and Ma Gui saw the strain in his face as illuminated by the faint glow of the flame.
“My child,” started Ma Gui while Shen Wei helped him sit up in bed. “You haven’t changed in the slightest. You haven’t aged one bit during all these years. Where did you go, Shen Wei, mm?”
Shen Wei buried his face in his hands as anguish caught up with him once more. Ma Gui guided him to rest against his shoulder in comfort as Shen Wei told him his tale.
“I woke up buried in a pile of dirt… Yezun, my brother, was suddenly in my head, and then there was Kunlun, too… I ran away from everything, but they accompanied me everywhere I went,” explained Shen Wei with a sob.
“I suspect this has something to do with the Hallows,” said Ma Gui who ran his hand in soothing circles across Shen Wei’s back. “I can’t say for sure, but whatever happens, don’t take to heart what your brother says. Yezun is a starved child who doesn’t know how to be sociable,” explained Ma Gui as wisely as he could, although he understood the immense torment Shen Wei had been put through. The older man’s heart ached with sympathy for the little soldier, forced to roam the world all alone.
Shen Wei nodded and pulled away from his long-time mentor to ask him the questions that had been burning in his heart since he had awoken after the battle.
“Ma Gui, where is Kunlun? What happened to him? Please, tell me. I know that you know the truth… please,” begged Shen Wei.
Ma Gui sighed and shook his head. He had been preparing himself for this set of questions for a long time and yet, he didn’t know how to answer them without crushing Shen Wei to pieces.
“Lord Kunlun had a mission of his own to accomplish.”
“I know that!” exclaimed Shen Wei heatedly then, keeping his impatience in check, added more gently, “I know, Ma Gui, but where is he? Where did my Kunlun go…” he trailed, hopelessly broken.
Shen Wei’s chosen grammar did not go unnoticed by the older man who felt his heart lurch in his chest at the obvious pain embedded in Shen Wei’s dark eyes.
“Sweet child, you know I can’t tell you exactly… it would ruin everything we’ve worked for for so long, and it would risk the very future of this world. All I can say is this: continue on this path forward, and you will meet him again. He’s there, Shen Wei, he’s waiting for you on the other side of time. You only need to take the first step forward.”
“How…? I don’t even know where to look…”
“It’s written in the stars, Shen Wei. Your reunion is inevitable; let time and space guide you home. Make the forest your home, and the mountains and valleys your children; accept the rivers and lakes as your parents, then look to the skies to find what you’re looking for.”
Shen Wei, I’m waiting for you—come find me.
Shen Wei sucked in a sharp breath as Kunlun’s voice joined the conversation. The sound of his voice in Shen Wei’s ear warmed his whole body down to each cell, spreading a caressing fire across his skin and solidifying his mission in his head: he was going to comb the world over until he found the owner of this voice in flesh and blood. Then, Shen Wei would truly be home.
**********
The next morning, Shen Wei bid Ma Gui farewell for what would probably be the last time. Ma Gui had always been like a father to him, and so parting now, knowing that he would never see him again, hurt Shen Wei to his core, but he knew that he had a quest to accomplish. The safety of the world was once again on his shoulders, and too many people relied on him for him to wallow in self-pity for an eternity.
Shen Wei left swiftly on horseback—his trusty black stallion as his only companion—and made straight for the lush forests of Haixing without a clear direction in mind. Shen Wei knew that he had to traverse the whole of Haixing to instil law and order in each corner of the world and, with hope, he would come across Kunlun at some point during his travels.
The first hundred years passed by in the blink of an eye, and still, Shen Wei carried on without faltering. Every village, town, and city knew of the legendary Black-Cloaked Envoy on his midnight-black horse as he flew from one place to another, always searching for something that could not be found.
Many a time, kind-hearted citizens had offered Shen Wei to stay with them—bereaved mothers looking for a son, lonely aging fathers in search of company, young women looking for a reliable husband—but Shen Wei turned each and every offer down, for how could he possibly retire and live comfortably while Kunlun waited for him on the other side of infinity?
No, he was resolved to carry through his mission and to find comfort in the arms of his soulmate once more. Shen Wei was sure that, once all his tasks were completed, and that Haixing was a place of utmost peace, he would find Kunlun at the end of the road, smiling and waving at him in his characteristic cheerfulness.
Shen Wei, you’re doing so well. I’m proud of you.
The Black Envoy smiled from behind his mask at the comforting words that sounded in his mind as Kunlun’s voice continued to pour sweet words straight into his heart.
My great beauty, I can’t wait to see you.
“Me too, me too,” replied Shen Wei beneath his breath as he pushed his horse onwards towards the next village on his list.
[Don’t listen to him, gege, he’s lying to you, again.]
“Yezun…”
[He abandoned you ge, just like you abandoned me. Remember? He disappeared in front of your eyes and left you for dead.]
“Stop it didi, I’m not listening,” replied Shen Wei. He had gotten used to his brother’s negativity over the last century, and he had learned to ignore him most of the time. Still, sometimes Yezun managed to hit the right nerve and poke Shen Wei right where it hurt the most.
[He left you gege, he abandoned you. He doesn’t love you, you know.]
“…”
[He doesn’t, but I do. I’ll always love you, brother. Why won’t you choose me over him? I’m right here with you,] replied Yezun’s voice agitatedly.
Shen Wei knew his brother had a strange sense of possessiveness over him that was hard to justify, even for him. For some reason, Yezun saw Kunlun as a competitor for Shen Wei’s affection, when in reality, Shen Wei was more than capable of loving both, albeit in different capacities.
“Yezun, I’m going to find a way to free you from this prison and, when I do, you, me, and Kunlun will live together in harmony,” vowed Shen Wei.
[Is that what you want, ge? For us to be a family?]
“More than anything…”
[Ha, disgusting. How naïve,] scoffed Yezun. [We can never be that, gege. When the time comes, you’ll have to choose between me and him, and I know who you’ll choose. Deep down inside, you know too.]
“That won’t happen, Yezun. How can I choose between my brother and my…”
Shen Wei paused a beat too long during his answer, causing Yezun to snicker malevolently in his ear.
[You see? You can’t even put a name to what he is to you. He’s nothing, that’s why!]
Shen Wei shook his head clear and, stopping his horse by the river, dismounted it gracefully and kneeled by the edge of the crystal-clear water to drink and splash his face. Yezun’s voice grew quiet once more as Shen Wei drank from the river in great gulps. The cool sensation that trickled down the back of his throat helped to soothe the fire that had been growing during his brother’s tirade.
Xiao Wei…
“I’m coming, Kunlun. Wait for me,” promised Shen Wei as he let his words scatter on the wind and sweep through the branches of pine trees that acted as a witness to his vow.
********
A century came and went, then another, and another, and soon before long, Shen Wei had roamed the world over a hundred times, turned over each rock and visited each nook and cranny of this land. Shen Wei had seen children being born, then reach adulthood, and finally, wither and die in what seemed like the blink of an eye. One minute, the farmer’s wife had given birth to a pretty little daughter, and the next time he visited, the farmer’s family was gone from this world entirely, replaced by strangers. Shen Wei couldn’t keep up with time anymore as it whizzed by without acknowledging him, for he remained stubbornly unchanged, his waist-length hair as glossy and dark as ever, his face still creaseless and porcelain-like, and his muscles forever strong and helpful.
Shen Wei had decided a long time ago that this was because of the Hallows—that he had somehow been spared the woes of aging in exchange for an eternity of servitude on the surface of the planet. Shen Wei didn’t have an identity anymore apart for being the famed black cavalier who was known to appear at dusk and disappear by dawn. No one alive today truly knew who Shen Wei was—who he had been—and anyone who might have known him had long since passed from this world. Instead, his constant tormentor was the only one who really knew him, if only in his mind.
For all of his downfalls, Yezun had been the only constant thing in Shen Wei’s life over the last millennium and, over time, he had grown grateful for his brother’s companionship over the years.
Then, there was Kunlun.
Kunlun wasn’t actually there—that much Shen Wei knew—but whether a fabrication of his mind or the true voice of the warlord, Shen Wei latched onto it like a lifeline, relishing each time it would appear in his ear and whisper things to him. Shen Wei could hear Kunlun in all things that lived; sometimes in the rustling of the leaves, and sometimes in the babbling of a brook. No matter how much Yezun tried to destroy the other voice from the inside, Kunlun stood strong and unrelenting, always encouraging his little soldier with soft laughter and love-filled words that were akin to a spring breeze.
My beautiful Xiao Wei, oh how I long to hold you.
“Kunlun…” spoke Shen Wei as a shiver coursed through his body and set his skin aflame.
My treasure, my exquisite love.
“Where are you… please tell me so that I can find you…”
Soon, soon.
Shen Wei sighed as the voice disappeared as quickly as it had arrived, leaving him cold and alone once more. Adjusting his mask to hide his features and covering his head with the heavy cowl of his cloak, Shen Wei set off once again on his stallion in search of anything and everything all at once—across the land, over snowy mountain tops and back down through thick forests of green.
Guided by the stars that Kunlun had so lovingly taught him about, Shen Wei found himself following their traces as they crisscrossed the sky above and formed pathways between the clouds, showing him the way as mute guides to the wonders of the universe.
Millennia after millennia, Shen Wei grew more and more in stoicism and maturity and, without noticing it, Yezun’s voice had gone completely dormant. Shen Wei no longer heard the constant painful reminders from his brother, nor did he hear his jabs and insults which had been steady companions for as long as he could remember.
Shen Wei’s resolve to find Kunlun never wavered, not for a single second in all the time that had passed, but Shen Wei had grown colder over the eons and no longer was the wide-eyed and innocent ‘little soldier’ he once had been. That part of him had vanished a long time ago and had been replaced by a well-travelled man who had learned everything there was to know and seen everything there was to see. Shen Wei was unparalleled in knowledge, having read anything he could lay his hand on, and witnessed the rise and fall of kingdoms and empires all around him, and even partook in them, too.
When Shen Wei decided it was due time for him to visit Dixing—he had been taking care of things above ground for them, but had rarely visited the dark, sunless place—he was greeted by a complete change of scenery, both in the city and in the administration that ran it. Once, Dixing had resembled Haixing with its barren lands and nocturnal plants and animals, but now it was a sprawling city filled with ash and smoke, and the people who lived there didn’t look like Shen Wei in the slightest—his long black cloak and flowing hair made him stand out like a sore thumb among a legion of jean-clad, t-shirt-wearing young men and women.
After a while, a helpful palace guard had found him wandering, confused and disoriented, and had ushered him in to see the new rulers of Dixing: the King and his subordinate, the Regent.
“Ah, Lord Envoy!” exclaimed the slimy man called ‘Regent’ upon seeing Shen Wei. “We thought you were long dead! I mean, it’s a pleasure to meet the living legend in person,” he said with a dishonest smile. “Welcome to Dixing, my Lord.”
“Thank you, Regent.”
“Erm, as you can see Lord Envoy, the way we do things here has changed over the years…”
“Please, don’t worry yourself with formalities. I understand that a lot of things have changed during my absence. As long as Dixing and Haixing are well taken care of, I don’t mind who does what,” replied Shen Wei politely yet resolute in his tone.
The Regent cowered at Shen Wei’s imposing tone, but plastered on a fake smile, nonetheless.
“Aiyo, I’m glad to see our Lord Envoy understands. You see, politics are a tricky business… we wouldn’t want you to waste your energy on such triffles…”
Triffles… thought Shen Wei sourly. He’s mocking me. He thinks I’m only good a fighting—a non-sentient killing machine.
“In any case,” continued the Regent, “if it’s alright with you, my Lord, Dijun would like to send you on a mission to Dragon City in Haixing to monitor activities there for us—I mean, for him.”
“Very well,” replied Shen Wei in a clipped tone, “it doesn’t matter to me where I go.”
“Wonderful! Then, we’ll help you set up a new identity so that you can blend in. You’ll understand that your current appearance is, erm, disconcerting to say the least.”
Shen Wei looked down to himself to take in his jet-black robes, the straps and buckles crisscrossing his chest, and the leather bracers around his forearms. Truly, Shen Wei was from another place and time.
“Do you have a name you call yourself by?” asked the Regent.
“Yes…” said Shen Wei, his expression instantly softening as he reached up around his neck to hold the golden orb between his fingers. “My name is Shen Wei.”
“Shen Wei…” repeated the Regent, sounding out the name on his tongue. “Interesting. Very well, we’ll set up a new identity for you in Dragon City.”
After having led him to a private chamber at the far end of the palace, the Regent left Shen Wei to figure out his new identity and get changed in an outfit he had provided—a smart set of trousers and vest to be fitted over a crisp shirt, and a pair of round wire-rimmed glasses. Shen Wei discarded his old robes—the only thing that kept him tethered to his past life—and fought the tears that brimmed the edge of his eyes as he remembered his journey. All of his fights and battles, all of his hardships and pains had been lived through with this outfit, but more importantly, all the love and joy he had experienced with Kunlun by his side were closely linked to his dark garment—Kunlun’s deft fingers on the leather buckles, Kunlun’s hands on the fabric as he peeled back each layer with patience and respect…
To shed these layers meant saying goodbye to the better part of his life thus far, but Shen Wei knew that the only way forward was through evolution and change; and so, he quickly discarded the clothing that had been like a second skin to him and donned the strange new garments, devoid of emotions or memories, in its place.
Shen Wei, clothing doesn’t matter, you’re still my one and only Xiao Wei.
“I know… I know,” voiced Shen Wei as he stood in front of a floor-length mirror with a pair of silver scissors poised in one hand, and a thick lock of hair in the other—the very same hair that Kunlun had always admired and tenderly handled whenever he had the chance.
None of this matters.
“I know,” repeated Shen Wei as he snipped the first strand and let it fall to the floor in time with his tears. “I know.”
I love you.
“I know.”
*********
Shen Wei emerged from his room completely transformed, so much so that the attendants who had seen him go in barely believed their eyes when he stepped out in his new look. Although he didn’t need them, Shen Wei was glad he had glasses to hide the redness in his eyes. He was so used to hiding his face behind his mask that he was relieved to find that the much smaller glasses offered the same kind of anonymity and protection from the outside world.
“My Lord,” came the voice of the Regent as he appeared at Shen Wei’s elbow. “You look very nice like this, elegant and handsome,” he complimented, but the words rang flat in Shen Wei’s ears and he couldn’t care less what the Regent thought of him.
“About my brother…”
“Lord Yezun? Maybe you don’t know this my Lord, but your brother has been imprisoned in a stone at the far end of Dixing. No one is allowed to go, and he is under strict surveillance at all times.”
That explained why Shen Wei had been able to hear his brother all this time. Yezun was an incredibly powerful man and, evidently, with the help of the Hallows, he had found a way to break out of his prison, if only in spirit, and torment his brother as he travelled across the land for centuries. Yezun had never been very far away from Shen Wei, forever bound to Dixing by the power of the Hallows, and Shen Wei wasn’t surprised that his brother had been able to find a loophole to talk to him during all these years. As much as Yezun’s company had been difficult to bear at times, it was obvious that he had been just as lonely as Shen Wei and, not knowing any other way to connect with his brother, he had resorted to hurting him to remind him of his existence.
“Will you guide me to Dragon City?” questioned Shen Wei, putting his brother aside for the time being. He would have to figure out how to save him without risking everyone else’s safety.
“No, my Lord, I’m not supposed to travel between Haixing and Dixing, but you can go there yourself by using the portal. Once there, you’ll find one of our people who will help you set up in your new life. Remember to keep a low profile while there—the people in Dragon City are very sheltered and don’t know we exist.”
Shen Wei nodded to show he understood his mission and, without wasting an extra second in the company of this strangely disagreeable man, he flicked his wrist and called open a portal with his dark energy.
**********
A month passed by and Shen Wei grew accustomed to his new life and identity—that of a professor of bioengineering at Dragon City University. Some undercover Dixingese people had helped him move into what they had called an ‘apartment’ and given him a crash course on modern life, but Shen Wei was terrible with anything ‘electronic,’ and often forewent modern technology in favour of his more trusted brushes and inkstones.
Shen Wei was greatly admired by his peers and his students at the university, catching wisps of conversations whenever he walked by and soft giggles when he entered his classrooms. However, none of it mattered to him as he gave no importance to what others thought of him. Over the last ten thousand years, Shen Wei had hardened his heart, and he no longer was the shy, blushing youth of his earlier days who sought to please. Now, he was immune to comments from outsiders as his heart beat for one person alone—forever and always.
Shen Wei’s past life seemed so distant and dreamlike now that he had a new life away from sword fighting and riding through woodlands on his stallion—sometimes, he could hardly believe he had been anything else than a simple university professor, that he didn’t have a glorious, unblemished past as the greatest warrior of all time.
Sometimes, he almost forgot that he was still Xiao Wei, somewhere, deep down inside. However, he never forgot the exact colour of Kunlun’s eyes, nor the sound of his voice as it lived in his mind, permanently enshrined.
One sunny day, as he was walking across the university grounds in search of the right building to teach in, Kunlun’s voice came back to him out of the blue after a long period of silence and wafted into his ear.
“Da Qing, go check up on him and make sure he’s alright.”
Shen Wei’s heart stopped dead in his chest when he realized that the voice was not from within his mind this time, but it was rather very real and tangible in the outside world. Looking up towards the source of the sound, all the crushing weight of the universe came crashing down on him as he locked eyes with a man whose face was forever imprinted in his memory.
Kunlun!!
Shocked into silence, Shen Wei could do nothing other than to stare at the man who bore Kunlun’s appearance. Shen Wei had spent eons imagining their reunion. Late at night when all was quiet except for the sounds of owls and wolves, Shen Wei had fantasized about what Kunlun would say to him, how he would greet him, how he would hold him, touch him, and kiss his hair, push him to the ground and take him—
The man went out of view briefly while he made his way downstairs, and Shen Wei felt like his heart would explode any second if he did not reappear soon. Shen Wei could hardly believe that what he had seen was real—he had spent so much time with the echoes of Yezun and Kunlun in his mind that it was hard to tell fantasy from reality.
“Sorry about the ruckus,” said the man with a grin that reached his warm brown eyes. “SID Chief, Zhao Yunlan,” he introduced himself and extended a hand for Shen Wei to shake.
Shen Wei’s head buzzed, and his vision blurred as the sacred image of Kunlun that he had cherished for so long melted over Zhao Yunlan’s face and fit over it like a glove to a hand. This was undeniably Kunlun, but he didn’t seem to recognize Shen Wei, which cut him deeper than anything Yezun had ever whispered in his ear over the centuries.
“I… Shen Wei,” he spoke bewilderedly and, grasping Zhao Yunlan’s warm hand in his own, was reluctant to let go when the other made a move to break the handshake.
Shen Wei resisted the urge to cross the short distance and rush straight into Zhao Yunlan’s arms, to hold him as tightly as possible and never let go, ever again. The simple, fleeting contact of their hands was enough to free a storm of repressed desire and want, causing it to flood all of his senses, but Shen Wei understood by looking into Zhao Yunlan’s eyes that the other had no idea of the extent of their relationship.
While the universe and all it contained—all the eons and stars and pathways that had led him here—caught up to Shen Wei and threw him completely off balance, Zhao Yunlan remained blissfully unaware of the turmoil in the gentle professor’s heart.
Unsurprisingly, the burden of knowing was much heavier than that of oblivion.
Zhao Yunlan looked at him curiously, a lollipop half-hanging out of his mouth as he examined Shen Wei. Something seemed to shift in his eyes—a brief moment of recognition, the spark of a memory or a vague feeling—but it was soon gone, leaving Shen Wei breathless and desperate for more.
“Shen Wei, when you find me,” had said Kunlun so many moons ago. “If ever I’ve forgotten who you are—”
“I’ll do everything that I can to make you remember this—us,” had sworn Shen Wei.
No matter what, Shen Wei intended to see that promise through.
“Shen Wei, what a lovely name,” said Zhao Yunlan with a gentle laugh that Shen Wei drank in like a man who had been stuck for much too long in an arid desert.
After a vague, passing comment about meeting again sometime, and a casual wave of the hand, Shen Wei watched Zhao Yunlan go with a mix of pain and love at the fact that they were finally reunited, but there was still so much work to be done before they could be together again. Yes, Kunlun had been found after so many eons, but Shen Wei ached with the knowledge that Zhao Yunlan didn’t know him, that he didn’t remember their shared past life. From here on out, it would be Shen Wei’s duty to trigger those long-forgotten memories in Zhao Yunlan and to claim him once more as his.
Still, Ma Gui’s words echoed in Shen Wei’s mind as he stood rooted in place long after Zhao Yunlan had left. The stars had not led him astray—all these millennia of hardships had served their purpose since they had led him to this very moment in time, finally able to behold in his eyes the only person that mattered—the only one who had ever mattered.
Shen Wei still had a long road ahead of him, but now that he knew that Kunlun, or rather, Zhao Yunlan, was a hair’s breadth away from him, he knew that everything would be alright.
After all, the stars had truly guided him home.
The End.