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“So how’d we meet?”
Shen Wei paused in the middle of raising a piece of pork to his lips. Zhao Yunlan saw his fingers tighten on the pair of chopsticks in his hand, and instead of finishing the bite, Shen Wei put his chopsticks back into his bowl. The beginnings of a frown was starting to mar his fine features.
“Meet?” he echoed.
Zhao Yunlan was endlessly fascinated by this precise, careful man—so very much the antithesis of Zhao Yunlan himself—who was apparently his husband. Husband. Not a word Zhao Yunlan had ever thought he’d have any association with.
“Yeah. Like what’s the story? Did we meet at a bar, bump into each other at the store? How’d we end up—” and here the words ‘in love’ seemed to get stuck in his throat, so he just gestured all-encompassingly to the dining table, the house, the ring still on Shen Wei’s finger— “like this,” he finished.
While Shen Wei seemed to deliberate his answer, Zhao Yunlan used the silence to shovel two more bites of food into his mouth (partly to cover his little hiccup, partly because the food was just that good), and then messily wiped his mouth with his sleeve. Shen Wei’s mouth twitched a little at that, and Zhao Yunlan couldn’t help his grin.
“It’s a simple question,” he reminded him. “Won’t you help this poor amnesiac recount his epic romance, Professor Shen?”
And there it was again, the subtle shift of Shen’s Wei’s jaw, the barest trace of a grimace forming before it was wiped clean away. Zhao Yunlan would like to say that he calculated that from the beginning, that this particular choice of address was a move made to dislodge that mask of bland pleasantry that Zhao Yunlan’s supposed husband always seemed to wear but...that was hardly the truth.
Calling Shen Wei by his name—Shen Wei—it felt almost embarrassingly intimate, perversely casual. The man was a professor at Dragon City University, a consultant too, those roles deserved a certain degree of respect. More than that, there was the way the man held himself, full of such formality and reserve. For all of Zhao Yunlan’s affected irreverence, he couldn’t quite bring himself to be that casual with him.
It didn’t help that even though Zhao Yunlan and Shen Wei were both supposed to be in their thirties, Zhao Yunlan didn’t remember being any older than twenty-one.
“Professor Shen?” he poked again, when the silence kept stretching.
Shen Wei fussily picked up his chopsticks again. “We met on campus. There was a case and you had some rather creative ideas on how to solve it. I came across you schooling your subordinate and…”
He shrugged a little sheepishly, with a small tight-lipped smile, almost as if to say ‘and the rest is history.’ It was an incredibly endearing look, Zhao Yunlan thought, for such an inauthentic smile.
Still, it seemed plausible, Zhao Yunlan considered. He’d taken a long time to answer, but the story itself rang true enough. Where else would a biology professor and the chief of SID meet, if not a case?
“A case at DCU?” Zhao Yunlan leaned forward, lips stretching into a coy smile, unable to help himself. “Was the esteemed Professor Shen’s expertise so useful that the SID chief just had to take him out to dinner as thanks? Or, don’t tell me, was Professor Shen wrongfully accused and he fell for the handsome hero that cleared his name?”
It was perhaps a little too bold; Zhao Yunlan was no stranger to flirting with older men but no one in his previous experiences had been anything like prim-and-proper Shen Wei, who, even in the face of having an amnesiac for a husband, displayed a reserve that was as severely buttoned-up as all his shirts were. Distantly Zhao Yunlan wondered what it would take for all that restraint to just... snap . He suppressed a shiver at the thought. A question for another time, maybe.
Across the table, Shen Wei blinked his big doe eyes, in a manner that Zhao Yunlan had learnt to mean that he was surprised, before dipping his head to look at Zhao Yunlan from beneath his lashes. His lips curled into an amused smile, as though he were inviting Zhao Yunlan to share a private joke.
Zhao Yunlan swallowed, mouth suddenly dry. He could feel the back of his neck blush red. Was it a calculated move, he wondered. Did Shen Wei know the effect he had? If they were married, then surely, he must, right?
“I see you’ve always been fond of wild speculation.”
“Come on, Professor Shen! Tell me more? It’s no fun like this, I’m the only one who has no idea what’s going on.” He jutted his lips out into an exaggerated pout and blinked his eyes for good measure too, deciding to see if copying from Shen Wei’s own playbook would elicit the same effect on the man himself.
Yet again, Shen Wei was quiet, before straightening up to look Zhao Yunlan in the eyes. He looked at Zhao Yunlan with such an intensity, that he found himself straightening his posture in turn, ready to give the Professor his full undivided attention.
“You shouldn’t worry,” Shen Wei told him softly, but firmly. “I will fix this, Zhao Yunlan. You’ll be yourself soon.”
And just like that, Zhao Yunlan’s smile dimmed. He knew, of course, that he was supposed to be thirty one now. His body felt stranger; it cracked in odd places, hurt with old wounds he didn’t remember getting. The reflection that greeted him in the mirror had crow’s feet around the eyes and a beard that was fast turning completely unruly, because Zhao Yunlan had not quite gotten the hang of shaving it into the particular pattern that Chief Zhao seemed to have preferred.
Of course , he knew that he was not the same man that had married Shen Wei, but the old sting of not being good enough rose like bile in his throat. He swallowed it down with a mouthful of rice.
“What if we can’t?” he asked quietly.
“Zhao Yunlan,” Shen Wei sounded strained but he didn’t continue, eyes wide with some liquid emotion Zhao Yunlan couldn’t name. That was another thing he’d noticed. Shen Wei said his name with such gravitas. It wasn’t the start of a sentence, the segue into a conversation. He said it as if ‘Zhao Yunlan’ was all he wanted to say.
“You must have considered that, right?”
“Zhao Yunlan,” he said again. “I will fix this. I swear to you, I will not rest until you are recovered.”
It was clear that Shen Wei was trying to reassure Zhao Yunlan, but he’d only succeeded in doing the opposite.
What could Shen Wei do anyway, to help with whatever was wrong with Zhao Yunlan’s head? Become a professor of neurology instead? There was an uncomfortable certainty creeping up on him, that maybe it would be like this always . Trying to poke loose stories from a tight-lipped husband, housing a body that felt alien, living a life that barely felt his own.
Shen Wei’s eyes roamed his face, and Zhao Yunlan didn’t know what he saw there but Shen Wei leaned forward. “What’s wrong?” He spoke it like a demand, trying to pry the truth from Zhao Yunlan the same way Zhao Yunlan was trying with him. Except, Shen Wei it seemed, knew exactly what to look for. “Tell me,” he added. “Please.”
Zhao Yunlan forced out a dry laugh. “Nothing,” he said. “I just...never thought I’d have a life like this. A big house, a husband, I don’t know, plants. I probably couldn’t even keep a plastic one alive.” He swirled around the cabbage and pork in his bowl, before shrugging. “Just weird, I guess. Never imagined my life turning out like this. I bet dad would approve, though.”
The man who was the Chief of the SID, who was the respectable Professor Shen’s husband. Zhao Yunlan wondered if it really was the same him. If he could learn to be that person again, if this whole amnesia thing proved to be permanent. The idea that his old man probably approved of the man his son had become alone sent a shiver of revulsion down his spine.
Shen Wei’s throat worked, gaze trained steadily on Zhao Yunlan. “...Believe it or not, this is a rather recent development in your life.”
Zhao Yunlan raised his eyebrows. Recent? Which one? The house, the relationship?
“And for the record,” he continued, “your father does not approve of me.”
Zhao Yunlan looked up in surprise, and the wry twist to Shen Wei’s mouth told him that the feeling was definitely mutual. “You’re joking? Straight-laced Professor Shen? The only thing the old man would have liked better is if you’d been a woman!”
Shen Wei ducked his head, that mysterious little smile playing on his lips again. “You’d be surprised.”
As quickly as it had come, however, the smile disappeared. Abruptly, Shen Wei reached out to grab Zhao Yunlan’s wrist, who froze in turn. “Zhao Yunlan, I didn’t mean—you must know—” he swallowed and Zhao Yunlan tried his best to pay attention to Shen Wei’s words and not the way his eyelashes were fanning across his cheekbones. “This is enough. Staying just like this, it’s fine, too. No matter what, however you are, I will stay by your side. Always.”
Zhao Yunlan blinked, dumbfounded. Shen Wei’s gaze was piercing him, searching for something again. After a moment, Shen Wei sagged, moving to let go of his wrist. “If that’s not what you want, of course, I understand—”
Before he knew it, Zhao Yunlan flipped their hands, so that he was the one gripping Shen Wei’s wrist instead. Together, they both stared at their linked hands, lying on the middle of the dining table.
Zhao Yunlan could feel his cheeks flaming, as Shen Wei looked at him, bewildered but...hopeful? Well, Zhao Yunlan was hoping, anyway. “Shen Wei, ah,” he forced the words through his dry lips. “When you say these things, how am I supposed to let you go?”
And for the first time since Zhao Yunlan had woken up in this new life, Zhao Yunlan saw Shen Wei’s carefully crafted mask completely crack.