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There is a plan. While Jiang Yang waited and watched the streets below, bursting with celebration and people unaware of the dangers he tried to protect them from, he decided on the best course of action.
He would be steadfast and confident. It's what he was known for in the Procuratorate. The bane of many a lazy attorney's existence, Jiang Yang never rests until every piece of evidence was gathered and his argument made. It isn't about pride in his work, it’s about doing what is right.
But then Luo Qingeng walks out onto the rooftop and all sense flees.
“Did you do it?” Jiang Yang accuses. One look and the banked fire of his anger roars to life. It’s one of his lesser qualities, he knows. Sometimes it gets the better of him when a case reaches a standstill or some egotistical criminal thinks he has one over him. The power of his fury sears through his veins and clouds his judgment.
Luo Qingeng smiles, his head tilting slightly. “Did I do what? You’ll have to be a little more specific. I am a very busy man.”
All Jiang Yang can think of is Xiao Ma's mother. Normally, the police would have made the call to the immediate family, but Jiang Yang felt responsible. Xiao Ma had been helping him with his case. If the boy hadn't been so eager, perhaps none of this would have happened. But then the truth would have remained hidden.
Rather than tell her over the phone—something that seemed entirely too impersonal—Jiang Yang had sent a runner to invite her to his office. The woman was inconsolable.
Her pleas and demands of ‘why my son?’ echo endlessly through Jiang Yang.
“Did you kill Xiao Ma?”
When Luo Qingeng laughs, it sounds like one of the many firecrackers going off in the street below. His eyes dance with mirth and affection. “What are you talking about, sweetheart?”
He looks as he often does: self-assured and pleased to see Jiang Yang, like countless other nights they have met, despite the odd rendezvous. Not at all like a man being accused of murder by his lover.
Jiang Yang didn’t exactly expect Luo Qingeng to come outright and admit to it. Only the most green criminals were so easily broken by a pointed tone. It still stings; to be fed another lie in a long line of them, stretching who knows how far back.
Here in this moment, the illusion shatters. He knows now he had never known Luo Qingeng at all.
“Enough of the lies.” Jiang Yang hisses.
“I’m not sure where this is all coming from. Why don’t we go back to the flat and have dinner and maybe talk about this, hm?”
“I saw you.” He says. It comes out plaintive, small, and embarrassing. In his mind’s eye, he can see the stack of black and white photos tucked away in the back of his desk drawer. At the very top sits an incriminating photo of Luo Qingeng in a suit, looking emotionless like Jiang Yang has never seen him, in a location identified as where Xiao Ma’s body had been found. There are too many emotions vying for control right now. Jiang Yang closes his eyes and tries to calm down. “I saw you.” He repeats a little steadier.
“Then what are we doing here exactly, Jiang Yang?” Just like that the pretenses have dropped. Something dangerous lurks behind that statement. A warning or a challenge; he isn’t sure.
Jiang Yang’s eyes snap open to look at Luo Qingeng. His lips have taken on a small curl. He didn’t want to believe it and that was his mistake. Before him stands a man with no qualms about killing someone for his own gain. Someone that believes he can get away with whatever he wants. The fury chokes him and leaves him breathless.
“You lied to me!” Jiang Yang grits out, half a step from grabbing Luo Qingeng and shaking him by the collar. His hands tremble and he clenches them to resist lunging forward.
“Did I? I told you I was a businessman, and I am. It was you who decided not to ask about what kind. You’ve always known what I am.”
He's right, says the quiet voice that has been increasingly insistent of late. There had been signs that hinted at the kind of man Luo Qingeng was outside of the four walls they met in. Things that now make Jiang Yang grimace at his own willful stupidity.
After he had sent his son and wife away, throwing himself into the Guo Ping case, there was nothing left for Jiang Yang. There wasn't any time or reason for another relationship. It would only hinder his work. Truth be told, he was uninterested in the prospect.
Until Luo Qingeng muscled his way through the piles of paperwork. Luo Qingeng with his irritating smirks, quiet demands, and gentle hands. Chafing warmth and breaking Jiang Yang from the statue of justice he had casted himself into. Reminding him there was a man beneath that casing. Jiang Yang lied to himself by saying there wasn't anything more to their relationship, if one could call it that, except their sordid trysts. Theirs was a union consigned to exist behind closed doors and shut away behind thick curtains. That was fine by him. It wasn't meant to be anything more.
Shame, sharp and sickly, overtakes him and his anger deflates. In its place a heavy exhaustion clings to him. “He was just a kid.” It’s a feeble argument. Someone as vile as Luo Qingeng would not see the depravity of his actions, while people like Jiang Yang had to deal with the aftermath.
“Sometimes that’s the luck of your hand.” What must it be like to be so flippant about the lives of other people? Did Luo Qingeng ever feel any remorse? Looking at him now, Jiang Yang doubts it.
“Then tell me, when will my luck run out?” Jiang Yang asks tiredly.
Luo Qingeng shrugs, still smiling that infuriating grin of his. “That is entirely up to you.” He steps closer, his hand lifting as if to reach out for Jiang Yang. To what? Console him?
Jiang Yang is willing to accept his mistakes and his weaknesses, to learn and grow from them. What he’s not willing to accept is being coddled by a murderer. He swiftly steps back with a glare. Luo Qingeng looks briefly surprised before all emotion melts away.
"What do you think you'll accomplish, Procurator Jiang?" Luo Qingeng asks coldly. There’s a hint of mocking in his tone. Jiang Yang bristles.
"You really think I'm one of your little pawns, to shift as you please, but I have morals that I abide by."
"Morals so easily bent to allow a snake in your bed."
Ignoring the jab, Jiang Yang continues, "This won't stand, Luo Qingeng. This—whatever this is, is done. I will be coming after you and I won't stop until you’re behind bars."
The world shifts violently to the right as Jiang Yang begins to walk away. He grunts as his back meets something rough and solid. His hands come up on reflex to defend himself only for them to be caught in an unforgiving grip.
"Where do you think you're going?" The smile that follows this statement is not at all like the ones Jiang Yang is used to with their warmth and teasing. No, this smile is a weapon; a knife used to threaten anyone that puts a toe out of line.
"Let go of me." Jiang Yang is not so easily cowed and he pulls against the hold in a bid to get free, but all he gets for his trouble is a sharp pain as his bones grind together. He gasps.
“No, I don’t think I will.” In the space of a moment, Luo Qingeng has his whole weight pressed against Jiang Yang, offering no leverage as he shifts his grip to free one hand. Said hand brushes lightly against Jiang Yang’s hair before he jerks away. “I want to keep you, Jiang Yang, and for that to happen some things will have to change.”
Jiang Yang is so shocked he stops struggling and gapes at Luo Qingeng. Does he really think that he will, that he can still–. “You disgust me.”
“I can work with that. Love and hate are very close together.”
Love.
That word again.
He breathes in sharply to offer a swift denial, but just as quickly as before, Luo Qingeng takes Jiang Yang by surprise and presses a harsh kiss to his lips. His noise of protest is muffled as their noses mash together. Jiang Yang tosses his head back as far as he can, his skull connecting with the wall unpleasantly, his dry lip tearing just a little at the motion.
“Don’t.”
A hard grip on his chin pulls his head back down, holding him firmly in place as a sweeter kiss meets him this time. It’s delicate and cherishing like all those moments under the cover of darkness. And that’s somehow worse.
Jiang Yang can’t stand it. Whatever sweetness there might have been has been soured by the truth. He bites at Luo Qingeng, pouring all the hurt and betrayal into it and he hums his approval, accepting and even relishing in Jiang Yang’s anger.
For one brief second, the world falls away and Jiang Yang savors it. The bitter and the sweet together, inextricably tied. He’s a fool.
Then, reality reasserts itself. Jiang Yang has a duty to uphold. A sworn oath to adhere to. Jiang Yang leans into Luo Qingeng, his grasping fingers scratching at the shirt before them, searching for leverage and waits. A sly tongue swipes across his lips, anticipation holds its breath and returns the gesture, and then when Luo Qingeng's grip loosens, Jiang Yang coils all his strength into shoving forward.
Jiang Yang lurches out of Luo Qingeng's reach and turns around, waiting.
Luo Qingeng stands there, the backdrop of the city in twilight a complement to the eerie gleam in his eyes. He has the most curious expression on his face, his features stuck between admiration and outrage.
The danger scrapes along his spine and raises the hairs on his neck, but Jiang Yang can’t let this pass.
“Goodbye, Qingeng.”
The challenge has been set. Jiang Yang has said his piece. Now he has to see it through. He will see the Luo gang behind bars. He ignores the buzzing in his lips as he turns away and heads for the roof access door. Behind him a sharp whistle signals the rise of a particularly boisterous rocket. The sky lights up, reds and greens splash against the brick as the firework breaks apart in a cacophony of celebration and Jiang Yang staggers.
A sharp exhalation leaves him as Jiang Yang catches himself on the weathered door frame and watches as the red jumps from the brick and stains the white of his shirt.
As Jiang Yang tilts forward an arm wraps around his waist and he hears Luo Qingeng whisper, almost tenderly, “Shhh, it’s alright, Ah Yang.”
His first thought is to struggle. To claw, to fight, to refuse. To deny Luo Qingeng the satisfaction. One more tally in the column of ‘Fool’. He should have known. It was stupid to think this meeting could’ve ended with him walking away. Luo Qingeng is a predator and is only doing what is expected of him: Consume and protect himself. The parts Jiang Yang saw were merely masks, reserved only for those occasions. But Jiang Yang had been so sure of himself.
His second is to lament the unfulfilled promise to Xiao Ma’s mother. She will never be able to rest knowing her son’s killer is still at large. Perhaps, she might even blame herself for Jiang Yang’s demise. He hopes not.
It’s said that your life flashes before you as you die, but all Jiang Yang can think about is his wasted future. How he will never be able to bring justice to an unjust system. The Guo Ping case will remain unsolved; he knows because so many in his office had given up already. He spares a thought for his son, who will have to grow up without a father, without the guidance and care that only he could provide. His wife, he hopes, can forgive him. She had been forthcoming with her disagreement of their separation, but all the same he never wished her harm.
There is still so much left that Jiang Yang could do.
His body jerks involuntarily as it fights against the inevitable. The view before him changes. The sky is lit up with bursts of color and then there is Luo Qingeng. Luo Qingeng who looks sad of all things as he gently cradles Jiang Yang. The world flickers and a tear slips down his cheek.
“I love you.” Sorrowful, but not a trace of regret. It’s acceptance. A finality.
A peal of laughter drifts up toward their perverted tableau of intimacy. Jiang Yang stares dumbfounded.
This can’t be love.
Love is kind and safe. Love is predictable and habitual. Dutiful, even. Love is–
He remembers that first time.
The way the crystal lamp bathed the room in a soft glow. The curtains a rich, green velvet, reminiscent of the serials Jiang Yang would read during his youth about explorers and the dark forests of the Amazon. The plush carpet beneath his feet with matching accents as he curled his toes.
The way the mattress bowed under his weight. The sheets, previously well starched and smooth, now wrinkled. His own body still drying with cooling sweat. The complaints and elation he felt chasing along his muscles. His strained breaths from more than exertion. The throbbing of his shoulder where Luo Qingeng had pressed his teeth to Jiang Yang’s skin possessively.
Every sensation heightened and sparkling as if strained through the layers of a perfect gem. Beneath it all was the rising tide of his guilt. The shameful need that cried out upon hearing Luo Qingeng whisper those three words.
Luo Qingeng had sat up to reach for him, perhaps sensing his unease, but Jiang Yang had pulled away. As swiftly as he could, he’d gotten dressed and left.
They hadn’t spoken of that night since. He'd run away, but those words left a permanent mark on him.
Did Luo Qingeng mean it all that time ago?
With distance and space to think, Jiang Yang had brushed it off as pretty words aimed to charm him (but what charming was there left to do when he was already in Luo Qingeng's bed, a voice asked). What purpose would it serve to say that he loved Jiang Yang, here at the end of all things? There are no more angles left to play.
Luo Qingeng cups his cheek, his thumb softly tracing the curve of it. He holds Jiang Yang so delicately, as if he were something truly precious and smiles.
Oh, Jiang Yang thinks fuzzily, he really means it. How else could someone as corrupt as Luo Qingeng love? This twisted version is the only one Luo Qingeng knows.
The third is the pain. Not the pain of being shot. That has already faded beneath several layers of body functions slowly coming to a halt. But the pain of coming to a realization too late. When Jiang Yang met Luo Qingeng, he found him arrogant and smug and annoying. Yet, he allowed Luo Qingeng closer, despite himself. The company had not been entirely to his displeasure. Then they slept together—and kept sleeping together—and there was certainly a fondness between them. More like a familiarity or a comfortable routine.
Even now, he couldn’t help but shy away from it. He had been– lonely. Endless days and nights dedicated to his badge with no respite. Jiang Yang came to him as a man seeking an escape and Luo Qingeng willingly provided it. He regrets it. He regrets being too preoccupied, too willfully blind to the truth that was right before him all this time.
The unfortunate truth is Jiang Yang loved him too.
Everything feels slippery now, like oil. Jiang Yang tries to cling to Luo Qingeng, but his body will no longer obey. He can feel it. The way his heart is struggling. There’s a sound like a sob.
There is only Luo Qingeng and darkness.