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Among the truly appalling number of times he’d been tied to Hei Xiazi and forced to await certain doom, Xie Yuchen had yet to decide where this particular occasion ranked.
On the one hand, the scenery was nicer than usual: judging by the room's gilded baseboards, they were still somewhere inside the same five-star hotel where they’d been in the process of ruining a reception only minutes before. The ropes binding Xie Yuchen were neither particularly uncomfortable nor difficult for someone of his skillset to slip through.
On the other hand, the man with the sword pressed against both their necks might make any sudden movements challenging. An actual sword. What century even was this? It would be cliché if the blade wasn’t quite such nice quality. Xie Yuchen could appreciate it, and appreciate its ability to ruin their night if they weren't careful.
The sword's owner had remained silent thus far, as had the room's other guards, waiting for their ringleader to make an appearance. As time wore on, and on, and on, Xie Yuchen closed his eyes, and found his mind drifting back over the evening, trying to figure out where exactly he’d gone wrong.
Three hours earlier, in the ballroom of an unnamed hotel in an unnamed major city abroad. Xie Yuchen had been on the road for two weeks now, wining and dining (not to mention blackmailing and threatening) his way through a host of potential business partners and/or adversaries. It was dull work, enlivened only barely by the long line of competitors making poor attempts at throwing themselves in his path. It was almost enough to make him wish he’d receive an urgent phone call from Wu Xie and inevitably end up embroiled in the Iron Triangle’s latest scheme—but only almost.
Tonight’s operation, at least, would hopefully shape up to be a departure from the usual pattern. Tonight, Xie Yuchen had a target.
In the antiques world he was known only as the Baron, a nod to his retail empire rather than an inherited title. He’d amassed a substantial amount of traded wealth through the usual unsavory means and purchased the hotel hosting the night’s reception through a shell company. But decades before, when he hadn’t yet made a name for himself, he’d double crossed one of the relatives Xie Yuchen didn’t hate, now departed along with most of the rest, and so the revenge fell on his shoulders. More specifically, he was tasked with recovering a stone tablet of unmentionable value that had become the source of the betrayal in question, and had reappeared on the market a week ago for the first time since it was stolen. Afterwards, if he felt like it, he could destroy the Baron’s domain, too.
Among all the dinners Xie Yuchen had lately been attending, this one was by far the most lavish. He was pretty sure he’d seen the same tableware now sitting in front of him advertised in a catalogue a few months back, with a few more zeros on the price tag than he’d felt like paying for. Tables draped in white linen fanned out from the center of the ballroom, clustered around a wide stage assembled in honor of the occasion. If Xie Yuchen’s reputation hadn’t been enough to secure an invite, he could’ve wrangled one for services rendered: a few words in the right ears, and he’d managed to set up a troupe of his opera contacts as the evening’s entertainment.
If everything went according to plan, the performers would provide the right sort of distraction while he went in search of his prize. According to his network, the tablet was currently hidden somewhere inside the hotel, where it would be handed off discretely to a private buyer sometime after the final course. Slipping off without alerting the attention of the Baron, seated only a table away, would be crucial.
As he was mentally reviewing this plan, the first course was served. Xie Yuchen took the opportunity to enjoy, just for a moment, the meal on offer. Roasted asparagus, lightly buttered scallops, mushroom consommé. The winter in Beijing had been particularly biting that year, and it was nice to be surrounded by all the fresh vegetables, fruits, a bounty of seafood straight from the harbor. These networking missions might be boring compared to his usual tomb raiding escapades, but at least he always ate well.
It was around the third course that the night took a turn. As Xie Yuchen was making another scan of the perimeter, he glanced towards the massive doors at the far end of the room—
—and promptly choked on his drink. Waving off the back-thumping of the insurance broker seated next to him, he stole another look at the entrance to make sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him, before returning hastily to the conversation around the table.
There could be no mistaking it. That was Hei Xiazi, alright.
Hei Xiazi in an exquisitely tailored suit.
Xie Yuchen occupied himself with a plate of beef carpaccio, making a valiant effort not to show his surprise. Of course Xiazi hadn’t bothered to tell him he’d be making an appearance tonight, or even that he was anywhere near this city. He’d probably been gleefully looking forward to a dramatic entrance.
And yet, Xie Yuchen felt his shoulders relax, just slightly, just seeing him. As soon as there was an opening in the conversation, he excused himself, caught Hei Xiazi’s eye, and signaled discreetly. Five minutes later, in the single stall restroom two floors up, he heard a quiet knock.
“Occupied,” he said, allowing himself a small smile. Hei Xiazi loudly pretended not to hear, and then pushed open the door. Xie Yuchen turned away from the mirror to face him.
“Here to cause trouble as usual, I’m sure.”
“You know me. But what exactly is the illustrious Xie Jiu-ye doing here?”
Hei Xiazi’s voice was the same as ever. Xie Yuchen wasn’t sure exactly how long it had been since they’d last seen each other. Some part of him, he knew, must keep count each time, subconsciously, against his better judgment. In the moment, however, he was more interested in another sort of cataloguing. There, just behind Xiazi’s thumb: a thin centimeter of pink scar tissue, not yet healed. And there, as his posture shifted—a stiffness in his shoulders, as though still recovering. Not so bad, considering their line of work, but his stomach tightened all the same.
“All in one piece,” said Hei Xiazi quietly, watching him.
Xie Yuchen said only, “What are you doing here?”
“Don’t sound so thrilled to see me, Hua’er-ye, it’ll go to my head.”
Hei Xiazi leaned against the wall, folding his arms. Even after so long, it was still strange to see him without the jacket. In these clothes, in profile, he looked almost like a character in a film. The inky black of the suit matched his hair, slicked back for once in honor of the occasion. Silver cufflinks gleamed with an engraving Xie Yuchen couldn’t quite make out—a spiral. No, a flower. He found his gaze drawn up along the arch of Hei Xiazi’s spine, the curve of his throat, which bobbed as he swallowed. Behind the glasses, Xie Yuchen couldn’t trace the motion of his eyes, but he felt them on him all the same.
“You look good tonight.” Hei Xiazi stretched out a hand to brush an invisible speck of dust from Xie Yuchen’s lapel, fingers lingering for a moment on his chest.
Xie Yuchen resisted the urge to grab hold of his wrist and pull Hei Xiazi in closer. He had work to do.
“I look good every night.” He paused. “You still haven’t told me why you’re here.”
“After finishing my last job, I managed to persuade Wu Xie to let slip that you’d be running around this part of the globe, and then a copy of the guest list for tonight’s dinner just happened to fall into my hands.”
Xie Yuchen snorted.
“Don’t act so suspicious of my intentions,” said Hei Xiazi, mock wounded. “I had my own scores to settle in this region too, you know.”
“And now you’re here to interfere with mine?”
“Nothing’s more fun than vengeance. So what’s our plan?”
“There’s no our plan,” said Xie Yuchen darkly, and then sighed. “But since you’re here, you might as well make yourself useful.”
He gave Hei Xiazi a brief version of the context and key details for the night’s operation.
“I have an exit strategy in place once we’ve secured the tablet,” he concluded.
“It’ll be heavy,” Hei Xiazi mused, and Xie Yuchen finished the thought for him:
“Which means there are only a few places the Baron can be keeping it. I’ve arranged for some opera contacts to give a performance after dinner. A few minutes in I’ll slip out to take a very important phone call.”
Hei Xiazi raised a single, dubious eyebrow. “Seems a bit simple for the machinations of one of Jiumen’s finest.”
“You have a better plan?” Xie Yuchen countered, folding his arms, and muttered, “One of. Honestly.”
He thought he almost caught Hei Xiazi smiling at that.
“We could always do things the old-fashioned way.”
“Violently, you mean.” Xie Yuchen was far from opposed to the idea, but— “I’d rather not make a mess right from the beginning. We can go that route later, but we need to secure the tablet first.”
“Fine. Then we start with your way.”
“You know I’m always right.”
“You never let me forget it.” Hei Xiazi turned to inspect the inside of the bathroom as if just noticing their surroundings. “Actually, while we’re here…”
He took a step towards the toilet and began unzipping his pants, and Xie Yuchen swung quickly away. He could hear the smirk in Hei Xiazi’s voice as he said, “Come on, nothing you haven’t seen before.”
“And yet you act so self-satisfied about it every time.” Xie Yuchen moved to the door, listening closely for footsteps in the hallway beyond. “If you don’t behave yourself, I’m locking you in this bathroom until the night’s over. Other people have boundaries, you know.”
“And when I’ve actually crossed one, you’re always generous enough to let me know.”
Now, Hei Xiazi was back, leaning over him, resting a shoulder against the door. Xie Yuchen could feel his exhale, the press of Hei Xiazi’s hip against his own, and his mind flashed briefly through all the possibilities available if they were anywhere else. As if reading his mind, Hei Xiazi said in a soft voice, “My next job doesn’t start for two more days. That time is yours, if you’ll have it.”
Despite the heat of their proximity, Xie Yuchen shivered. Almost unbidden, he murmured, “I booked a place in a small village in the south, near the coast. After this, I thought it would be best to lay low for a few days. If you want to accompany me, that’s up to you.”
As he pushed open the door, Hei Xiazi stumbled a bit.
“Don’t forget to wash your hands,” Xie Yuchen said, and promptly left.
By the time he made it back to his table, the evening’s fifth course had been served. The waiters were in the process of passing out another round of alcohol. The Baron already had several empty glasses in front of him—all of which, Xie Yuchen had been sure to note, were the result of some discrete sleight-of-hand maneuvering amidst the cups littering his neighbors’ places, refilled continuously as if by magic. Though pretending to be as drunk as his companions, the Baron’s eyes remained as sharp as ever. He was suspicious of someone, then, if not Xie Yuchen himself.
Hei Xiazi still hadn’t returned to his seat. Knowing him, he was probably doing a bit of extra reconnaissance, scoping out possible locations for the transfer. Xie Yuchen glanced down at his watch with calculated slowness to avoid looking again towards the door. Any longer and Hei Xiazi’s absence might begin to appear suspicious.
The sixth course was laid out in the center of the table, and still there was no sign of Xiazi. Xie Yuchen forced himself to take a delicate bite of food, smile politely at an impolite joke told by the man seated across from him. Had the Baron’s gaze flickered in their direction, or was he imagining it?
Five more minutes passed, and then ten. Finally, just as Xie Yuchen was about to invent another excuse and go after clues of his own, Hei Xiazi strode casually through the ballroom’s main entrance, looking none the worse for wear except for a few new creases in his suit. Immediately, their eyes found each other. Hei Xiazi gave a subtle nod, a sign of encouragement, though the line of his mouth looked serious. Xie Yuchen’s phone buzzed.
Took care of a few problems. Nothing to worry about, but we’ll have to move quick.
The insurance broker had long since vacated his seat, leaving an open spot next to Xie Yuchen, which Hei Xiazi nonchalantly dropped into, not making eye contact. There was another buzz from Xie Yuchen’s jacket pocket.
Ok, fine, it’s no fun being cryptic. Found a room in the basement with a bunch of security guys hanging around outside for no visible reason. Tacky, really. I locked them in a supply closet, but we don’t have long.
At the next lull in the dinnertime conversation, Xie Yuchen tapped one of the exorbitantly expensive spoons against his glass and cleared his throat. “Gentlemen. How would you care for some evening entertainment?”
It really was all men at Xie Yuchen’s table tonight. All a certain type of man, rather—another reason he was less than fond of events like this. He’d done his best to collect a card from each of them, which would be useful later when blocking them from access to key industry resources. But Hei Xiazi, glowering at a comment made by the man across from him as the opera troupe took the stage, seemed to want payback sooner rather than later.
Under the table, Xie Yuchen put a hand on his knee, nails digging into the fabric of his pants. An unpleasant warning to make, but less pleasant still would be the resulting mess to clean up if Hei Xiazi was allowed to properly tear into their dinner companions, much as Xie Yuchen wanted to watch him do it.
Later, he let his eyes say, and Hei Xiazi gave a slight nod, leaning close to his ear. “Your way, then my way, I heard you loud and clear. Relax. I’m not here to mess up Xie Jiu-ye’s perfect plan. Now laugh as if I’ve said something that delights you.”
Much as he wanted to glare daggers at him instead, Xie Yuchen obliged.
In their present company, Hei Xiazi had grown markedly clingier than usual, bent in towards him, brushing an ankle against his under the table, flashing his dangerous grin more freely. At first Xie Yuchen thought he was only being ostentatious to make a point, but then he realized: Hei Xiazi was doing his best to buffer him from their surroundings, drawing any small talk or suspicion towards himself instead of Xie Yuchen. It would’ve been an insult to Xie Yuchen’s ability to handle these things himself if it wasn’t so endearing. Suddenly, he wanted to pull the same move: to laugh and lean closer still to Hei Xiazi, to share in the spotlight with him, for him, much as he normally hated that sort of thing. He took a deep breath, steadying himself. No use letting Xiazi’s work go to waste. As the performance started, he angled himself towards the stage.
This time, Hei Xiazi was the one to leave first. It was against Xie Yuchen’s instincts to leave his phone on during a show, but a necessary evil in this case. Sure enough, a few minutes later, Hei Xiazi passed along a meeting place and a series of suggestive emojis (a thoroughly unnecessary evil), and Xie Yuchen was off.
Hei Xiazi had already redirected the security camera feeds and set to work on the lock blocking access to the room at the other end of the hall by the time Xie Yuchen arrived, just in time to see that he’d managed to change out of his finery and into a bedraggled (though admittedly more practical) set of his usual clothes, toting a backpack of supplies.
Xie Yuchen gestured at the outfit as he approached. “Why the new look?”
“No point in ruining a good suit. Besides, I paid for it under your name, so I have to take good care of it.” At Xie Yuchen’s loud groan, Hei Xiazi’s enthusiasm only seemed to increase. “Think of it this way, it’ll save you money the next time we end up at some fancy event like this. I’ll just wear the same suit again.”
“A person of taste never wears something like that twice.”
“Hey, some of us actually care about the environment. Though if I ever come across a landfill of pastel pink dinner jackets, I’ll know who to blame.”
Xie Yuchen rolled his eyes. “If you cared about the environment, you wouldn’t be wearing pleather. Now can we get back to the task at hand?”
“Aye, captain.” Hei Xiazi gave an exaggerated salute and pulled a set of lockpicking tools from a pocket of the pleather garment in question. As he set to work, Xie Yuchen kept an eye out for any signs of trouble. The troupe was scheduled to stay on for another hour before a brief intermission, and Xie Yuchen had tapped a stage manager to alert him once the Baron made a move. That should leave them plenty of time, and yet he couldn’t rid himself of the cling of unease. Sooner or later, someone would come looking for those guards Xiazi had dealt with, and Xie Yuchen’s bet was on sooner.
“We’re in.” Hei Xiazi straightened up triumphantly, holding the door open for him.
“Now who’s being tacky,” Xie Yuchen mumbled, brushing past him, and Xiazi elbowed him in the ribs.
The room in front of them was both empty and completely unassuming. Automatically, they split towards opposite walls, searching for switches, levers, a safe behind a hasty bit of plaster. If Hei Xiazi had looked fleetingly like an action movie star before, Xie Yuchen suspected they only had more film clichés ahead of them.
“Found it.”
Behind the wallpaper to his right was a small metal door set into the wall, which he promptly kicked open. The space beyond was just big enough for them to crawl through, and smelled distinctly of sewage.
“Hua’er-ye.” Xie Yuchen could hear the lewd grin in Hei Xiazi’s voice. “You take me to the nicest places.”
He rolled his eyes again, not so much letting the remark slide as saving the appropriate response for later, and climbed into the gap.
“There’s another door,” he called back. “Can you pass me those lockpicking tools again?”
The tools turned out to be unnecessary, because the door in front of Xie Yuchen swung open on his first try. Their villains tonight were sloppy, on top of everything else. But as he pushed into the room ahead, he understood why.
“Don’t come through yet.”
“Why not?” Hei Xiazi’s tone was teasing. “Tomb curses? More snakes?”
I am going to throttle him, Xie Yuchen thought, and set about finding a path through the trip wires strung across the room to prevent further passage.
Hei Xiazi, who had not taken his advice, poked his head through the door.
“Looking good, Hua’er-ye.”
At that particular moment, Xie Yuchen happened to be folded over in a backbend, and nearly lost his balance.
“Watch it.”
Hei Xiazi remained unconcerned. “Awful lot of effort to set all this up.”
“There has to be a second entrance somewhere,” said Xie Yuchen, twisting over another wire, “or the transfer would be a bit too inconvenient, don’t you think?”
“The Baron was expecting us,” said Hei Xiazi, nodding.
“Or someone like us, at any rate.” Xie Yuchen flipped back to a standing position, landing on a clear patch of ground in front of the next door. “Stop sitting there and wasting time. I could try to deactivate the wires, but I don’t want to make things easier on anyone else with the same plan.”
“Just enjoying the view.” But in another few seconds Hei Xiazi was across the room. “Hey, I think I was faster than you that time.”
“Watching my route first is cheating,” Xie Yuchen sniffed. "My record stands."
The passageway between rooms was longer this time, and sloped downwards. If Xie Yuchen’s memory of the hotel blueprint was correct, they were headed in towards the center of the building, rather than away from it. An odd design choice.
“Wonder if the Baron found the place like this, or if he had these tunnels built special,” Hei Xiazi mused.
This time, the room they found behind the door was almost identical to the first, except for a massive safe planted right in the center. Hei Xiazi whistled.
“No guessing what’s in there.”
“You work on that,” Xie Yuchen told him. “I’ll see if I can disable whatever alarm’s going to ring when you crack it open.”
He also fired off a quick message to one of his opera troupe accomplices. The props department had rigged up a convenient fake that would appear, along with the troupe’s most highly skilled martial artist, somewhere near the hotel grounds. That should buy them some time, at least.
“Hey, Hua’er-ye.” From the sound of things, Hei Xiazi was close to breaking the safe. “Guess what tonight reminds me of?”
“Nothing good, I’m sure.”
“Not true.”
A clang of metal like a gunshot. The door to the safe sprang open. Sure enough, the tablet was nestled inside. Hei Xiazi heaved it from its resting place, passing it towards Xie Yuchen.
“You. Me. Tamutuo. That mausoleum full of traps. You can’t tell me you’ve forgotten already.”
Why Xiazi’s mind would drift in that direction and not towards any of the other hundred missions they’d been on together since then was a mystery. Perhaps he was being sentimental. A chilling concept, Xie Yuchen thought, biting back a smile. Again, he found his thoughts floating back to other nights, other possibilities, and forced himself to concentrate. When they got out of this, he was going to implement a "no more suit-clad party crashing" rule. Too much of a liability.
As if sensing a moment of weakness, Hei Xiazi opened his mouth to make what would inevitably be another smug comment, but suddenly he went still. Only a second later, Xie Yuchen heard it too—the purposeful march of footsteps somewhere out in the hallway beyond, distant but rapidly growing closer. They’d run out of time.
“Xiazi,” he murmured, and saw his companion straighten up on instinct. “Time to try your way.”
Hei Xiazi gave a wolfish smile and nodded slowly, only once. “After you, then.”
Xie Yuchen knelt to lay the tablet carefully inside the case he’d prepared and brushed himself off, standing again. This room, he realized, was not quite as identical to the first as he'd thought. Behind the wallpaper at the far end, the same direction the sounds were coming from, he could now make out the faint outline of another door, this one much larger. He peeled off the paper with Hei Xiazi, neither of them speaking. They didn't need to. Xie Yuchen gripped his arm, only for a moment, steadying himself, and then pulled open the door to face their assailants.
Fighting side-by-side with Hei Xiazi had become, over the years, alarmingly instinctive. Unlike that first meeting in Tamutuo, they fought as one now, each anticipating the other’s movements, each covering the other’s back as if it was his own. It used to scare Xie Yuchen, that someone could know him so well. That someone could be so willing to. Sometimes, seeing Hei Xiazi again for the first time after they’d parted ways, he still felt like that. The weight of whatever it was they carried between them, would they ever own up to it in so many words? Did they need to?
“Watch out,” Xiazi murmured, incapacitating a member of the Baron’s security detail that had been only a fraction away from giving Xie Yuchen a concussion. Seconds later, Xie Yuchen took down one of Hei Xiazi’s attackers with a jab to the chest.
He didn’t know at what point he began to realize they were overwhelmed. It was unusual, to have hired such a large team for a simple handover like this, even if the Baron had been expecting trouble. Either way, it would normally take more guards than this to stand in the way of him and Xiazi combined. Maybe they were off their game, or Xiazi's shoulder injury had flared up again. Or maybe—
No, he thought, panicking, running over the evening again in his mind, trying to find a time the Baron would’ve had the chance to poison them. He’d been careful after coming back from the bathroom, only trying new dishes that his dinner companions had already torn into, just enough to avoid suspicion. And yet his muscles were definitely starting to weaken now.
“Xiazi,” he yelled, sinking to the ground.
Instantly, Hei Xiazi wheeled towards him and seemed to understand what was happening. Xie Yuchen couldn’t tell if he’d been affected—if his immortal genes had kept the worst of the dosage at bay, or if he was just doing a better job at hiding it.
And then, Xie Yuchen’s vision began to blur, and he couldn’t tell much of anything anymore.
That was how they’d wound up tied together in a basement storeroom, sword at their throats. The tablet, still in its case, was propped against the far wall, along with Hei Xiazi's backpack.
Their captors had remained silent so far, and Hei Xiazi was continuing to feign unconsciousness, though as Xie Yuchen had come to, he’d squeezed his hand reassuringly. Xie Yuchen was taking the opportunity to scan the room for an exit route. There were no windows, no hidden panels, and only the one door, blocked by another pair of guards.
“This much security seems like overkill,” Xie Yuchen observed aloud.
There was a sharp peal of laughter as the single door suddenly swung open and the Baron stepped into the room, flanked by yet more guards.
“Haven’t you figured it out yet, Xie Jiu-ye?” The Baron came to a halt directly in front of him, arms folded, mouth set in a hard, cruel sneer. From up close, he revealed himself to be a tall, lean man with a pinched gaze, who walked with hunched shoulders and a sloping gait. He'd donned a red overcoat since dinner that looked both expensive and rather gauche. “They’re not here for the tablet. They’re here for you.”
Xie Yuchen’s stomach sank as all the evening’s inconsistencies finally fell into place. He should’ve connected the dots sooner. Hei Xiazi’s grip on his hand tightened.
“Do you think that tablet appeared on the market again by accident?” The Baron continued. “Your empire has not gone unnoticed by those of us beyond Beijing. Some of us want a slice of the pie.”
So it had been bait after all. Since the Baron seemed to be in the mood for a dramatic monologue anyway, Xie Yuchen chanced the question that had been bothering him. “And the poison?”
“Administered through your silverware. Not through your dinner, as I’m sure you suspected.”
Damn those fancy forks, there must’ve been hidden compartments in the tines. No wonder they’d seemed so overpriced. If that was true, then Xiazi must’ve seen which way the wind was blowing and tried to gain the upper hand by pretending to pass out until Xie Yuchen was awake and they could escape together.
Speaking of which.
“By the way.” The Baron turned to Hei Xiazi. “You can stop trying to fool me into believing that you’re asleep. I didn’t account for your presence here, whoever you are, which means I know you haven’t been knocked out.”
Hei Xiazi opened first one eye, and then the other, yawning widely. In an exaggeratedly cheerful tone, he said, “No worries. I don’t know who you are, either.”
Despite the circumstances, Xie Yuchen found a bit of glee in the fact that the Baron, too, seemed annoyed at Hei Xiazi. Next to him, he felt Hei Xiazi begin to work subtly through the knots at his wrists, chatting all the while.
“Could you ask that guy to move the sword, though? Bit hard to breathe.”
“What?” The Baron snapped, and seemed to notice the outstretched blade as if for the first time. “Yes, fine. That’s just for show.” He glared at the guard holding the sword. “Put that away. You really think something like that will work against the likes of the Xie family heir?”
At least someone appreciates my talents, Xie Yuchen thought, angling himself to hide Hei Xiazi’s movements.
“So I guess my decoy didn’t work on you,” he said.
“I sent a security detail to investigate your accomplice, but she set off a flash bomb and disappeared.” The Baron paused, clearly relishing the opportunity to chew on the scenery. “Your people are good, I’ll give them that. How much to buy them off you?”
Xie Yuchen’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t keep anyone who can be bought by my side.”
There was a soft cough next to him, and he had to resist the temptation to roll his eyes yet again, which didn’t seem particularly appropriate for a hostage situation. Xiazi was going to remind him about that one later.
“Anyway,” he continued. “What does a dead man need money for?”
“You think I’m here to have you killed? I’m willing to let you and your friend there go, for a price. Majority stake in the Xie family enterprises, for example. You can even take the tablet as a keepsake.”
So typical, and so boring. Finally meeting the Baron after so many years, Xie Yuchen was almost disappointed. A bit of originality from his enemies would be refreshing every once in a while.
Hei Xiazi coughed again; a signal. Xie Yuchen readied himself to slip through his bindings. The Baron tilted his head, watching them both closely.
“Something stuck in my throat,” said Hei Xiazi, deadpan. And then, in a flash, he was standing up again, knife pressed to the base of the Baron’s neck.
“Call off your guards.”
Xie Yuchen knew that voice. There was no mercy in it. Whether or not that was an act depended on the circumstances.
The Baron, however, remained unmoved.
“Or,” he said, in a silky, dangerous voice, “I could do this.”
Time seemed to slow. Xie Yuchen watched as the Baron reached into the folds of his jacket and pressed some kind of button, which immediately released a voluminous screeching noise that had the entire room, his own guards included, curling in on themselves and clutching their skulls. Xiazi’s knife slipped through his fingers as he stumbled to the ground. He hadn’t yet had time to untie his feet.
Having had enough warning to prepare himself, Xie Yuchen slammed his head back against the wall, blocking off one ear. When the sound had passed, he slowly raised his chin to see the Baron pick up the sword and lift it above his head, twisting towards Hei Xiazi.
Xie Yuchen took a deep breath, calling on all his years of training, and flowed through the ropes surrounding him like water through a sieve. The Baron, startled to see him suddenly unfettered, hesitated for a fraction of a second, enough time for Xie Yuchen to send the sword clattering to the ground with a sharp kick. Then he kicked the Baron in the chest, too.
Hei Xiazi, who’d by now recovered and freed himself of the last of his ropes, was in the process of subduing the remaining guards. Xie Yuchen bound the Baron’s arms and legs and gagged him, for good measure.
“Looks like someone didn’t do enough research on the Xie family after all.”
He straightened up, dusting off his hands, and turned to see Hei Xiazi gazing down at the Baron in disgust.
“Amateurs. When will they learn?” He leaned over to grab his bag of supplies from where it had been tossed next to the tablet, pulling out a very familiar coil of rope. “Next time, use this, okay?”
The Baron only scowled.
Xie Yuchen lifted the case with the tablet inside and studied the fallen sword for a moment, before picking it up too. “I’m taking this.”
The hallway beyond their temporary prison was thankfully free of any more guards. As they headed quickly for the stairwell, Xie Yuchen grabbed the rope from Hei Xiazi’s fingers. “Thanks for giving away all my secrets. I can’t believe you even still have this.”
“What?” Hei Xiazi snatched it back, dangling it in front of his face teasingly. “It’s useful. Did you forget last time—
“I thought we agreed never to mention last time,” said Xie Yuchen, ears reddening. That night was still a bit of a blur, to be honest, but it had involved a bottle of Jinmen gaoliang, an out-of-control game of strip poker, and being thrown out of their hotel at three in the morning, whereupon Xie Yuchen had promptly doled out the hush money in the form of a generous tip.
Up a flight of stairs, and then back out into the hallway, where they were greeted with the welcome sight of a window to break. First Xie Yuchen hauled himself through, along with the tablet and the sword, and then Hei Xiazi climbed up. He apparently hadn't grown tired of teasing Xie Yuchen yet.
“And by the way—you don’t keep anyone who can be bought? Really?”
Xie Yuchen spun around, emboldened now by the cool night air and their increasing distance from the hotel. “Do I keep you? You tell me.”
That shut Hei Xiazi up. Xie Yuchen marched on ahead, pleased with the achievement, until Hei Xiazi caught him by the waist and pulled him back.
“Don’t be like that,” he mumbled, burying his face in the crook of Xie Yuchen’s neck. “Rumor has it I’m a kept man, these days.”
“You spread those rumors yourself,” said Xie Yuchen, leaning into Hei Xiazi’s touch for a moment before breaking free of him. He was grinning in earnest, now. He couldn't help it. “Come on. My opera accomplice parked a van for us around here.”
As they were climbing into the car, Xie Yuchen’s phone rang. He’d forgotten it had been on the whole time. The fact that he even still had it was a sign of the Baron’s utter incompetence. No way would he give up Xie family property to an imbecile like that, not even under penalty of death-by-swordsman.
“Xiao Hua.”
Wu Xie’s voice was suspiciously sunny, which meant he was about to ask a favor.
“Whatever it is,” said Xie Yuchen, “the answer is no.”
“Come on,” Wu Xie pleaded, “you haven’t even heard me out yet.”
Xie Yuchen listened as he described a dig gone wrong near Changsha. Maybe the Iron Triangle weren’t technically at fault, but they hadn’t done enough to resolve the situation on their own without calling in reinforcements, either. After giving a vague promise that he’d think about things, Xie Yuchen lowered the phone. Hei Xiazi tilted his head, waiting.
“That was Wu Xie, as you might’ve gathered. He’s made a new mess for me to clean up.”
Hei Xiazi heaved a melodramatic sigh. “I guess that’s goodbye to our two-day vacation.”
Beneath the exaggerated regret, there was a layer of heat in his voice, the kind that seemed always to linger just below the surface. Xie Yuchen's pulse quickened on instinct, and he paused, gaze fixed on Hei Xiazi. “Not necessarily. How much are your other employers paying you?”
“Hua’er.” A slow grin broke over Hei Xiazi’s face. “Are you telling me to back out of my contract?”
“I’m not telling you to do anything. But if you join me in Changsha, I’ll add an extra ten percent on top of your usual rate.”
“Fifteen, and you’ve got a deal.”
“I have standards, you know,” Xie Yuchen said loftily. “Let’s call it twelve. Are you in?”
Hei Xiazi keyed the ignition. Along the horizon, the first rays of dawn were beginning to break loose. They’d have to switch positions in a few hours. Drive across a few borders until they found a flight from an unsuspicious locale. Hei Xiazi would probably put on a station blasting his terrible taste in music. For now, though, he simply darted in to kiss Xie Yuchen on the cheek, swiftly enough that he didn’t have time to retaliate, and said, “Just tell me where to drive.”