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Tang Fan found Sui Zhou in their shared bedchamber, the wardrobe doors thrown wide open. There was a small travel chest hastily dragged onto the middle of the floor, lid open, already half-filled. “There you are,” Tang Fan exclaimed.
For all the flurry that everyone had made leaving the dinner table, by the time Tang Fan finished his food and scrambled into the courtyard the house had fallen ghostly and silent. He’d almost thought that Lao Pei and the rest of them were playing a prank on him, or worse, that they had all forgotten him—like that one morning he’d come to and everybody had decamped to Dong-gu’s restaurant for breakfast, leaving him to wander the early morning streets all by himself.
Sui Zhou looked up from his packing, and the corners of his mouth tilted upward in a fond smile, one of those ‘what took you so long’ looks. Tang Fan answered it with a grin of his own, and they shared a wordless moment of brimming excitement, though Sui Zhou looked much less like a child who had just been given an entire packet of sweets than Tang Fan knew he probably did.
There had been nothing exciting coming across his desk the past few months—good news for the capital’s economic and social stability, but bad news for Tang Fan's increasing boredom. It had been a while since they’d gone haring off somewhere that required more than a day’s travel. Though Tang Fan was dreading the long and weary trek west, there was no man he’d rather have at his side on the road than Sui Zhou, in this adventure, all the others sure to come.
“What are you packing?” Tang Fan asked, stepping around Sui Zhou so he could peer into the chest.
The Flying Fish uniform was in there—always handy to be able to put the fear of the Imperial Guard into someone, recalcitrant suspects in particular. Some of Sui Zhou’s simpler clothes were in there too—rougher fabric, less embroidery—all the better to blend in with the locals. Or at least, Tang Fan admitted, to look less like the type of capital city boys that the locals wanted to mess with. Even Sui Zhou’s leather cuirass was packed—the scholar and his loyal bodyguard were always helpful roles for them to keep up their sleeves.
Tang Fan watched as Sui Zhou selected another set of robes in deep blue, unadorned but of solid craftsmanship, and thus suitable for travel. Sui Zhou looked good in them—he was one of those miraculous specimens who looked good in everything and also nothing—but Tang Fan frowned.
“Not those,” he said.
Sui Zhou turned around, brows rising. “What?”
“I don’t think you should take that.”
“Since when did you turn into the one who does all the packing?”
“Since I’m the one thinking ahead and planning for the scenarios we’ll encounter,” Tang Fan replied. “You are bringing your modest clothes which will attract less interest when we first arrive, just in case we need to conduct a few days reconnaissance before announcing our presence. Your Flying Fish uniform will grant us access to local government records and any information held by those particularly tight-lipped, and you've picked the armor because you know I like it when we do our government official and bodyguard double act.”
Tang Fan grinned impishly as he recalled Sui Zhou’s long-suffering sighs and resigned eyerolls whenever he played the part of the smitten guardian—even nowadays some of them were real. Tang Fan enjoyed seeing how far he could push Sui Zhou to the edge of exasperation when they performed those roles, and he suspected that secretly Sui Zhou liked it more than he was willing to let on.
“But there’s another scenario that you’ve overlooked,” Tang Fan continued.
“And what is that?” Sui Zhou asked dubiously.
“I need you to look rich, but also tough.”
Sui Zhou’s expression grew only more skeptical as the silence stretched on.
Tang Fan waited a few more moments for understanding to dawn on Sui Zhou. “It’s the northwest,” he finally explained, when comprehension was not forthcoming. “The old trade routes are still strong there, and commerce still holds a lot of clout. I may need you to look like a merchant, but the kind you would think twice before crossing, just to encourage a little more truth out of anyone we have to interrogate.”
“Why would I need to look like a merchant? There’s a disease and some suspected murders. This isn’t a smuggling or counterfeiting case.”
“If you understand the flow of goods and services in the remote provinces, then you understand which parties have influence and which parties are in the middle of trying to seize it.”
“It’s a murder case.”
“It seems like a murder case,” Tang Fan corrected, then lowered his voice ominously, “but this could go much, much deeper.” He hoped that Sui Zhou would let himself get sucked once again into the excitement of the case and all of its possibilities, instead of focusing on the practicalities and logistics of travel.
Sui Zhou regarded him neutrally, but Tang Fan continued to beam, so it was Sui Zhou who broke first, conceding Tang Fan’s point. “What should I wear instead?”
Tang Fan continued to smile expectantly, until Sui Zhou glanced down at what he already had on.
“This?”
Tang Fan nodded. He was the one who had recently bought this set of robes for Sui Zhou. They were practical in the way that he preferred—made of a light, but well-woven fabric and modestly styled. There was no garish embroidery on his torso, but instead a tasteful, asymmetrical splash of gold adorning the hem, offsetting the deep blue dye in a fetching contrast that made a thrill of excitement run up Tang Fan’s spine if he stared too long. Sui Zhou was wearing it so often now that Tang Fan suspected it might have become his new favorite, at least since that one night a month ago when Tang Fan confessed what naughty thoughts it gave him.
“You just want to see me take it off,” Sui Zhou accused, his tone tinged with amusement.
“That’s also a nice bonus,” said Tang Fan, not bothering to deny it. “Actually, do put on the old blue one, then. Quickly now, we must get a move on.” He made a move for the belt around Sui Zhou’s waist, but found his wrists caught in a gentle, but firm grip.
“Runqing,” Sui Zhou growled, in a low, soft rumble, reminding Tang Fan of the faraway echo of a summer thunder shower, rolling in from the horizon to revive a sluggish, humid day.
Tang Fan shivered. Sui Zhou had acted like there was not a moment to lose to get started on their journey, but his voice just then had no stiff reproach or sternness in it. It was warm and molten, the kind of tone he reserved just for their bedroom. Sui Zhou released his wrists, and Tang Fan made a noise of pure delight as soon as Sui Zhou’s arms came to wrap about his middle, pleased that he was able to distract him from the task of preparing for their journey. Surely, there was enough time before departure for them to dally. Tang Fan fancied digging his fingers into the generous fall of Sui Zhou’s hair by the fistful, since he was wearing his knot loose. If they ended up forgetting to pack something, because they had been otherwise occupied—well, they could just buy it in the next town over.
Tang Fan wrapped his arms about Sui Zhou's shoulders and pressed close for a kiss, sighing happily at the familiar scratch of Sui Zhou's beard against his skin. He would go to the very edges of the heavens together with this man, but first, they ought to spend a little more time in their bed.