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Lan Zhan twisted his head to the left and then to the right to relieve some of the pressure in his neck. Stakeouts like these always ensured the most terrible muscle cramps, especially since the back of the van was not at all conducive to maintaining a comfortable posture. He closed his eyes briefly as he rolled his head around once, then twice. Opening his eyes, he focused once again on the three monitors in front of him. They depicted the slightly grainy footage of three different security cameras monitoring the outside of a large warehouse complex. Other than the static image of the warehouse’s large bay doors, there was no movement, not even a flicker of shadow.
“Detective Lan.” The two-way radio on the desk crackled. Polite as ever, Lan Sizhui’s voice paused before continuing. “I don’t think he’s going to show up tonight. It’s already three hours past the delivery time.”
“Three-and-a-half,” a second voice chimed in grumpily.
Lan Zhan bit back a sigh, forcing down the annoyance he was feeling. The lead had been so promising and yet here he was, empty-handed, the Yiling Patriarch as elusive as ever.
He picked up the radio. “Sizhui, Jingyi. Thanks for your help. Come over and take the van back to the station. I’ll do one more loop around the block and then meet you at the precinct.
“Okay, sounds good. We’ll be right there,” Lan Sizhui responded.
In the background, Lan Jingyi exhaled loudly in relief. “Finally! I need to pee so badly. Hurry up and drive.”
Lan Zhan checked the monitors one last time and made sure everything was in order. The two rookies pulled up in their unmarked police car and they switched vehicles. Lan Zhan began slowly driving around the block of the warehouse complex, scanning the surroundings carefully. The address of this warehouse had long been jotted down and starred in his notebook, but it had been just another one of the many dead-ends in his investigation. That is, until a recent arrest of a low-level dealer of the newest product on the street had revealed that none other than the Yiling Patriarch did actually use the warehouse to distribute the product. Tonight at 8pm was supposed to have been the next scheduled date a large stash was to be delivered.
Still waiting on a warrant to enter the building, Lan Zhan had decided to run a stakeout with two of the rookies and hopefully catch the Yiling Patriarch in action. Contrary to his expectations however, they had neither seen nor heard anything all evening. Overall it had been an extremely disappointing operation.
Lan Zhan turned the last corner. Ahead, approaching the intersection at the end of the street was a car with only one functioning brake light. Lan Zhan was usually not quite that petty, but the mounting frustration he was feeling reached a tipping point when he saw the blatant disregard for vehicle regulations. He flicked the switch which activated the lights mounted on the dashboard and pulled up behind the car which had immediately veered over to the side of the road and was now idling. He entered the license plate into the small computer unit; a bold notice informed him that the registration of the plate had expired several months ago.
He stepped out of the car and walked up alongside the driver’s side of the car. The car was old, its once fiery red colour now almost completely obscured beneath the layers of dirt and rust. The driver’s window was already rolled down when he approached and he looked in, catching his first glimpse of the driver. A dazzling smile flashed back at him. Lan Zhan’s heart stopped for a second, before resuming its usual rhythm. He was thankful his usual neutral expression did not give away anything away like his traitorous heart.
“Officer! Fine evening, isn’t it?” The driver - young, likely male - smiled up at Lan Zhan in a casual, relaxed manner. His right hand was resting loosely on the wheel, his left drumming a steady pattern against the outside edge of the door. “Please don’t tell me my baby’s too old to be on the road. I swear she drives better than she looks. The rust just adds some character, don’t you think?” He peeled and flicked away a loose flake of the rusted paint coat, looking at Lan Zhan with wide eyes.
Lan Zhan ignored the pout formed by a pair of startlingly red lips. He did not let himself become distracted by the glint of silver in both ears, the wild strands of hair coming out from a high ponytail, nor the tantalizing glimpse of a collarbone beneath the stretched neck of an old shirt.
“Left rear brake light is not working.” Lan Zhan’s voice was curt and brisk, his usual professional tone.
“Oh shit, I didn’t know. Sorry, officer.” The young man tilted his head, ponytail swaying to one side, as his eyes swept down and up. “Sorry, detective,” he corrected. “I’ll bring it in to my mechanic first thing in the morning and get it fixed. Just the left, you said?”
Lan Zhan ignored the question. “I’d like to see your license and registration papers.”
There was the briefest of hesitation, before the young man smiled again and raised his right hand. “Just going to reach into my back pocket, and then my glovebox.”
As he took out his license from his wallet and a wad of crumpled papers from the glovebox, Lan Zhan’s eyes swept the inside of the car. It was messy - several articles of clothing and plenty of empty takeout containers strewn on the floor and the seat in the back. Nothing that would suggest anything illegal, although the young man seemed to be well-versed in interacting with the police. He even recognized Lan Zhan as a detective, and not an undercover officer. It was a distinction not many would be able to make.
He took the license. Wei Wuxian, the typed letters stated. The picture matched the young man although it did not do him justice. He returned the license and then stared at the torn and faded papers in his hands.
Wei Wuxian grinned sheepishly. “Those papers are as old as this car probably, but it should all be there. Considering I never clean anything out of here anyway.”
“Computer says your license plate is expired.”
“What? Oh shit, really? Will you believe me if I said I’m just terrible at remembering things? It must’ve completely slipped my mind.” The words tumbled out at a fast pace, though there was still no hint of nervousness. Wei Wuxian smiled again, and raised three fingers to his temple. “I promise I’ll get it all done tomorrow. First thing when I wake up.”
Again, Lan Zhan did consider himself a petty person. Strict but fair, he liked to think. Tonight however, he was still keyed up after spending several fruitless hours on a stakeout and now there was something frustratingly irritating in Wei Wuxian’s manner. Alluring, but irritating. A dangerous combination which was wreaking havoc with his inner composure.
He reached for the ticket book in his back pocket and was gratified to see Wei Wuxian loose a bit of his cool.
“Come now, detective. That’s not really necessary, is it?” he pleaded, pouting once more.
It really was not, Lan Zhan admitted to himself. Besides, he was tired and he still had to fill out paperwork and file his report back at the station. His eyes glanced absentmindedly at the papers in his hands as he moved to return them and then bid goodnight with a stern warning to the young man. At that moment, however, a name caught his attention. He quickly smoothed one of the pages and took a closer look. It was impossible to tell what the faded document had once been, but the name was legible enough. Wen Qionglin.
“Wen Qionglin,” he repeated aloud. “What’s your connection with the Ghost General?”
Wei Wuxian flinched visibly but he recovered quickly. “The Ghost General? That’s a dangerous name to be saying at this time of night on these streets. Even I know that, detective, and I don’t know much else. I’ve had this car for a few years, bought it used. I have no idea who previously owned it or what those papers are. Like I said, I never clean anything out.”
It was, of course, a perfectly plausible explanation. But it was almost midnight in a deserted area of the city near a warehouse allegedly used by the Yiling Patriarch to distribute product. The same Yiling Patriarch who was known to be closely associated to the Ghost General, an alias for Wen Qionglin, long-time member of the Wen Crew. In fact, the new product on the street was credited to none other than the sister of the Ghost General, one of the most famous - or infamous - cooks the drug scene had seen in a decade or more.
Lan Zhan took a step back and looked at Wei Wuxian. “Step out of the car and put your hands on the roof.”
“Are you seriously arresting me? For some guy’s name on an old piece of paper?”
“I’m not going to repeat myself.”
“You’re making a mistake, detective.” Wei Wuxian looked straight at Lan Zhan, the bright smile wiped from his face.
But Lan Zhan was not one to second-guess his decisions. He simply stared back at Wei Wuxian, not saying a word.
Wei Wuxian huffed and rolled his eyes. He unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the door, stepping out into the cool night air. He grumbled as he set his hands at the edge of the car’s roof, looking over his shoulder at Lan Zhan. “I’m telling you, you don’t want to do this.”
Lan Zhan was in no mood for any verbal sparring. Silently, he flipped open a pair of handcuffs and tied Wei Wuxian’s hands behind his back. He led him back to his car and opened the door of the back seat. To his credit, Wei Wuxian clambered inside without a fuss. He did keep up an endless chatter on the drive to the station, blithely commenting on the passing scenery. Lan Zhan ignored him. In his mind, he was running through his investigation notes. At no point had he ever come across the name Wei Wuxian. Nor had his picture come up; Lan Zhan would have remembered that striking face. So was there a connection between Wei Wuxian and the Ghost General or the Wen Crew? Had he finally stumbled across the break he so desperately needed to find out more about Yiling Patriarch?
Arriving at the precinct, Lan Zhan drove straight inside and escorted Wei Wuxian through a set of doors to the booking area. Ouyang Zizhen was on duty, looking distinctly bored. The young officer hastily removed his feet from the desk and stood up, straightening his uniform.
“Detective Lan. And who’s this?”
“Book him and keep him in the cells.”
“Keep me for what, exactly?” Wei Wuxian squawked in outrage. “Don’t make me complain to your supervisor for shoddy detective work.”
Lan Zhan shot him a glare which momentarily shut him up and continued speaking to the other officer. “A tow truck should be bringing his car soon. Take a look for any of the new product. Do a few swab samples as well. I’ll be back tomorrow morning to interview him.”
Ouyang Zizhen nodded and began working away. Meanwhile Lan Zhan turned away and walked out of the room, heading towards his desk. He passed the two rookies carefully filing paperwork and took their reports, waving at them to go home. Reaching his own desk, he sat down in his ergonomic chair and took out several notebooks from a locked cabinet, rifling through the pages.
The words on the pages blurred in front of his eyes, however, shifting into an outline of a handsome young man grinning at him with a bright smile. Distracted, Lan Zhan slammed the notebooks down on the desk. Someone cleared their throat behind him. He turned and looked at Ouyang Zizhen who was shifting his weight awkwardly from foot to foot.
“Umm . . . there might be . . . well there is, a slight problem.”
Lan Zhan frowned. “A problem with what?”
“The fingerprints of the guy you brought in are apparently in the system. But I don’t have access to the file. It’s locked.”
“What do you mean it’s locked?”
“The computer says there’s a hit but when I try and pull up the file, it says I don’t have the authority to view it.”
“I’ll come and take a look.” This situation was becoming more and more suspicious. Lan Zhan’s hunch that there was more to Wei Wuxian than met the eye was clearly correct.
“You won’t be able to open the file either,” Ouyang Zizhen replied apologetically. “It requires captain-level sign-in.”
Lan Zhan looked at the clock. It was almost midnight. “Is the captain still here?”
A wide-eyed nod. Everyone in the precinct was terrified of Captain Lan Qiren. Even Lan Zhan had a very healthy respect for his captain, who also happened to be his uncle. They headed down the stairs from the detectives’ offices and towards the office in the back corner of the precinct. With its large glass windows, the office provided a clear sight of the entire bullpen and prevented any shenanigans from occurring under the captain’s strict supervision.
Lan Qiren looked up, his eyes narrowing beneath dark eyebrows. “What is it?” he barked.
“Ca–captain,” Ouyang Zizhen stuttered. “I’m trying to book someone but his fingerprint file is locked. Here’s the code,” he handed the captain a piece of paper with several digits scribbled down.
“A locked file?” Lan Qiren murmured to himself. He typed the numbers into his computer and stared at the screen for a long time. His pinched expression became tighter. His left eyelid twitched.
“Bring him in here, please, Zizhen.”
“Uh, yes sir! Right away, sir!” Ouyang Zizhen shot Lan Zhan a confused look but hastily retreated out of the captain’s office and bolted across the bullpen.
An unfamiliar, unsettled feeling coiled in Lan Zhan’s gut. He was not known to make mistakes in his investigations, but nothing about this whole situation was proceeding smoothly. For the first time in his career, he felt like he had fallen into a situation beyond his control. It was not a good feeling.
After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence during which neither Lan Zhan nor the captain spoke, Ouyang Zizhen came back, escorting Wei Wuxian. The young man, now freed of his handcuffs, saluted Lan Qiren ironically and leaned against the edge of his desk.
“Have you called Nie Mingjue yet?” he asked.
Lan Qiren shook his head, his scowl deepening. Lan Zhan felt the coil in his gut tighten. Everyone in the police force knew of the notorious sergeant of the Guns & Gangs Unit.
“What’s your connection with Sergeant Nie?” he asked Wei Wuxian. He intensely despised not knowing what was going on.
Wei Wuxian smirked and tilted his head towards Lan Qiren. “Ask your captain. Judging by that delightful scowl, I’m assuming he’s opened my file and realized that eight months of undercover work has just been ruined.”
“Undercover?” repeated Lan Zhan. He glanced at Lan Qiren for confirmation. The captain merely turned his monitor screen, which showed a photo of Wei Wuxian in a police uniform, beside the name Wei Ying.
“You’re a cop?” Lan Zhan asked, his eyes widening.
Wei Wuxian - Wei Ying - smirked again. “I did try and warn you.”
Lan Zhan floundered for a response, fighting to maintain his usual calm demeanour. This was most definitely not how the evening was supposed to go. It was possible he may have just scuttled his own investigation. And apparently also Wei Ying’s. Feeling unsettled and unable to respond, Lan Zhan retreated behind a stoic, impassive mask.
Lan Qiren fixed him with the scowl and stare usually reserved for the rookies. “We’ll deal with this in the morning, Wangji,” he said in a tone that clearly implied that Lan Zhan would be responsible for fixing the mess he had created.
Wei Ying laughed and lifted himself up to sit on the corner of Lan Qiren’s desk, the heels of his feet tapping against the desk. “I don’t envy you. Mingjue is going to be pissed.”
“Off my desk, young man.” Lan Qiren turned his scowl toward Wei Ying, who hopped off the desk, an unrepentant grin on his face. “Both of you out. I expect you back here at 8am.”
Lan Zhan bowed his head respectfully and bid his uncle goodnight. He strode out, suddenly feeling a tension headache building up. The entire evening had been a complete disaster and all he wanted was to head home to the peaceful quiet of his house. When he heard someone scramble to catch up to him, he picked up the pace. A futile attempt, as it turned.
“So. Lan . . . Wangji is it? Any relation to that scowling captain of yours in there?” Wei Ying’s voice was surprisingly nonchalant, considering his evening had also probably not gone according to plan.
Lan Zhan did not spare him glance, continuing to walk as quickly as he could without it seeming like he was trying to run away. When Wei Ying repeated the question, he bit out a short answer. “My uncle. And it’s Detective Lan to you.”
Wei Ying snorted, easily keeping pace. “Oh is it? Then it’s fine if I call you Lan-gege?”
“That’s my brother.”
“Lan-er-gege then?”
Lan Zhan closed his eyes and bit back a sigh. Was he never going to get rid of this annoying man beside him? “Lan Zhan. It’s Lan Zhan.”
Taking a few swift longer strides, Wei Ying stepped out in front of Lan Zhan and faced him. The smile on his face was dazzling. “Lan Zhan! I’m Wei Ying, as you know. Or Wei Wuxian, if you want my undercover alias. Which you also know.” The flow of words stopped abruptly as Wei Ying stumbled backwards into a desk. By the time he caught himself, Lan Zhan had already passed him and kept walking.
“Hey, hey, Lan Zhan! Wait up!” Wei Ying tugged at Lan Zhan’s arm. “Is there a place here in the precinct I can crash for the night?”
“You don’t have a place of your own?”
A shake of the head. “All my stuff is somewhere in a storage locker. And I’m not going back to the current shithole I’m staying at until I’ve cleared it with Mingjue. So I’ll just camp out here for the night.”
Lan Zhan paused before replying, several options running through his mind. He opened his mouth to point Wei Ying towards the back hallway where there was a small room with several cots. “You can stay at my place.” Unbidden, the words rolled off his tongue.
Wei Ying stumbled again, although there was no desk nearby this time. “What? No, it’s totally fine. You don’t have to . . . .”
Lan Zhan turned to walk away, looking over his shoulder. “Are you coming or not?” Without waiting for an answer, he continued on his way. He resolutely refused to examine the part of his mind which had abruptly decided to invite Wei Ying over.
Ouyang Zizhen gave them both a look when they walked past the booking room on their way out of the precinct. “So first you arrest him, and now you’re taking him home?” he called after Lan Zhan. “Has the notoriously single Detective Lan finally found his true love?”
Wei Ying laughed and shot the young rookie a few finger hearts. Lan Zhan pretended he hadn’t heard anything. They got in Lan Zhan’s car, which was immaculately clean as always and smelled faintly of sandalwood. Wei Ying once again kept up a steady stream of commentary, seemingly happy to talk while Lan Zhan drove in silence. It was oddly . . . comforting. His headache didn’t disappear entirely, but the pounding pressure did lessen slightly as he drove home.
Lan Zhan lived in a small bungalow at the base of a wooded hill which rose up near the edge of the city. It was an older neighbourhood that had so far managed to escape being swallowed up by new developments and skyscrapers. The bungalow sat on a property of several acres, which he had inherited from his parents. A winding driveway led through a grove of trees and passed gardens blooming with native plants. Scattered throughout the plants were several rock arrangements and winding pebbled paths. Although it was now dark, solar lamps along the edges of the paths glowed gently.
The car pulled into a covered space beside the bungalow. They stepped out and walked across the front porch to the door.
“Wow. It’s so . . . peaceful.” Wei Ying turned in a circle, taking everything in.
“Mn.” Lan Zhan unlocked the door and stepped in, removing his hat and shoes. He pulled on a pair of slippers and rooted around in the hallway closet for a second pair of guest slippers which he passed to Wei Ying.
Exhaustion swept over Lan Zhan. While his bedtime was no longer as rigid as it used to be when he was younger, he still preferred going to bed early and waking up at 5am. He had stayed late tonight on the stakeout, off the clock, because he had been sure of the lead. But not only had he hit another dead-end, he had also sabotaged Wei Ying’s investigation which was going to be a problem he had to deal with tomorrow. He had also somehow managed to invite the undercover officer home with him. In sum, it was a lot to process, but Lan Zhan was too tired to mentally unpack the situation at the moment.
“Spare bedroom is here, bathroom is at the end of the hall,” he told Wei Ying curtly. Opening the door to his own bedroom, he stepped inside and closed it before his unexpected guest could reply. He completed his nighttime routine as quickly as possibly and slipped into bed, asleep before he could ruminate any further on the past few hours.
In the morning, Lan Zhan woke up at 6am, allowing himself the extra hour of asleep. He went for a quick jog on the paths through the trees at the back of his property to clear his head, then showered and dressed. As he brewed a cup of tea and prepared his breakfast, he heard a loud crash and clatter from down the hallway. Suddenly he remembered he wasn’t alone in his house.
He found Wei Ying in his office, staring at one of the walls which was entirely covered with pages of notes and photocopied images of blurry surveillance shots. A box of files which had previously been located on the corner of the desk, was now strewn on the floor beside an overturned wooden chair.
“Ah, sorry about the mess,” Wei Ying grinned sheepishly at Lan Zhan. “And for breaking in to your office. Although the door was open, so I didn’t really break in. I just peaked!”
Lan Zhan levelled his best stony glare at Wei Ying, who shrugged it off.
“This is seriously impressive, though! You’ve got almost the whole structure of the Wen Crew mapped out.”
“Mn.” Lan Zhan crossed his arms across his chest and stared at an empty space near the centre of the wall, a giant black question mark on a ripped page beneath the words Yiling Patriarch. Almost was the key word. All the missing pieces of evidence seemed to somehow link back to the the mysterious figure that had cropped up a few months ago. Word on the street was that the Yiling Patriarch did most of the actual work involved with the production and distribution of the new product that was flooding the streets and creating a name for the Wen Crew. Yet despite having worked the investigation for months, Lan Zhan knew nothing about the Yiling Patriarch. No name, no picture, nothing.
“You were placed undercover with the Wen Crew?” he asked.
“Yeah, yeah I was.” A strange expression passed over Wei Ying’s face. He did not look at Lan Zhan as he replied, “Started by running their product and worked my way up, to try and get close to this asshole.” He stabbed a finger at a picture of Wen Chao, one of the two sons of the Wen Crew’s leader, Wen Ruohan. “But I mostly work with Wen Ning.”
“Wen Ning?” The name was unfamiliar to Lan Zhan.
Wei Ying chuckled. “You know him as the Ghost General. Or Wen Qionglin. But Qing-jie and I just call him A-Ning. Sweet kid, not really cut out for the job, but . . . .” Wei Ying shrugged. “Sometimes life just deals you shitty cards and you gotta play with what you have.”
“Sounds like you’ve gotten close.”
This time Wei Ying did look at Lan Zhan. Another strange look flashed across his eyes. “I know what I’m doing, Lan Zhan. No one’s better at undercover than I am. Both Wen Ning and Wen Qing have been helping me get what I need to take down the crew. They were just roped into the whole mess because they happened to be related to Wen Ruohan. He did them a few unasked favours and then basically forced them into his crew as repayment.”
“And the Yiling Patriarch? What do you know about him?”
A careless shrug. “Not a lot. Same as you. I’ve rarely seen him, and he’s always wearing a mask.”
Lan Zhan could tell that Wei Ying wasn’t being completely honest with him, but he didn’t press any further. He looked at his watch. “We should get going.”
“Right, right. I’ve got an undercover investigation to salvage and you’ve got an angry sergeant and captain waiting for you.”
Upon entering the precinct, Lan Zhan and Wei Ying were immediately surrounded by the station’s rookies who began launching a dizzying array of questions at them.
“Detective Lan, did you really arrest an undercover cop?”
“Are you the same Wei Ying that went undercover in the Lanling Jin gang and took down the illegal underground gambling ring?”
“And then got thrown out of the courtroom because you punched Jin Zixuan in the face?”
“Hey, isn’t that Jin Ling’s dad? Are you Jin Ling’s uncle?”
“Are you the uncle that almost burnt down their house down because you were trying to cook something?”
Wei Ying stood in the middle of the four rookies with his hands on his hips. He pointed a finger at one of them who was standing back slightly, mirroring Wei Ying’s pose exactly. “Jin Rulan! What kind of stories are you telling about your favourite jiujiu? That whole fire thing was your Cheng-jiujiu’s fault. Also tell your dad he totally deserved that punch in the face and I’ll happily do it again.”
“I’m not telling him that!” Jin Ling retorted. He huffed. “And you’re not my favourite jiujiu.”
“But you became a cop like me, and not a firefighter like Jiang Cheng, so hah!” Wei Ying crowed. “Are you going to introduce me to your friends or not?”
“No, I’m not!” Jin Ling shot back and turned on his heels, stalking away.
“Kids these days,” Wei Ying sighed. “Hey, Lan Zhan, who are these babies?”
Lan Zhan pointed at the three remaining rookies. “Ouyang Zizhen, whom you met last night. Lan Jingyi. And Lan Sizhui.”
All three vociferously protested being called babies, but eagerly clamoured Wei Ying with more questions. Basking in the attention, Wei Ying happily answered with much gesturing. Lan Zhan stood nearby, watching. He doubted the veracity of much of what Wei Ying was saying, but found himself helplessly drawn into the engaging manner in which Wei Ying recounted his stories. Like a moth drawn to a flame, the thought suddenly came to him. But am I going to end up burned too?
A loud, brash voice suddenly cut through the clamour in the bullpen. “Wei Ying!”
Everyone flinched and turned toward the captain’s office. Beside the ever-scowling Lan Qiren stood an imposing figure - broad shoulders, sleeves rolled back to the elbows revealing muscled forearms, fierce eyes and a thick moustache.
Wei Ying swallowed. “Here, Sarge.”
Lan Zhan followed Wei Ying into Lan Qiren’s office. He nodded at Nie Mingjue and greeted the other person in the office. “Good morning, Xichen-ge.”
Unlike Lan Zhan who had decided to become a detective, Lan Xichen had remained a uniformed officer. He was now a decorated and distinguished sergeant, in charge of the rest of the police officers in the precinct.
The office was crowded when all five people were inside and Lan Qiren closed the door. He sat down behind his desk and glared at Wei Ying who had tried to sit down on the corner of his desk again. Chastened, Wei Ying sidled up beside Lan Zhan who was leaning against the wall. Their shoulders brushed and Lan Zhan felt a shiver run down his spine.
“Let’s get down to business,” Lan Qiren barked. “Sergeant Nie, how can we best assist your undercover operation?”
“That’ll depend on if Wei Ying’s cover was blown or not,” Nie Mingjue grumbled in a deep voice. “We were hoping to extend the operation for a few more weeks, but we’ll likely have to move up that timeline. We have arrest warrants already for Wen Ruohan, Wen Xu and Wen Chao, but we have to make sure the case is solid and won’t fall apart in court.”
“One of my informants has connections with the Wen Crew,” Lan Xichen spoke up. “I can ask him whether Wei Wuxian’s disappearance last night was noticed by anybody.”
Wei Ying frowned. “An informant? Who?”
“Meng Yao. He’s given us a few good leads already and we’ve managed to make a few low-level arrests of some of the Wen Crew.”
“Meng Yao?” Wei Ying repeated. Lan Zhan saw a look of distrust and disbelief pass across his face before settling back into a neutral expression. “As far as I know he’s one of the few people Wen Ruohan trusts, a part from his two asshole sons. You’ve managed to make him an informant?”
“He came to us actually,” explained Lan Xichen. “I’ve been coordinating our investigation with Mingjue-ge and we think with everything we have, we can move forward with the arrests.”
Wei Ying bit his lower lip but didn’t say anything. He looked at his sergeant.
“If Meng Yao says Wen Ruohan hasn’t gotten suspicious, we’ll put you back in,” Nie Mingjue decided. “You said he’s been getting more and more paranoid lately, so getting to him will be the key. Ideally we need him and his two sons together in a location that’s not going to result in a bloody shootout.”
Wei Ying nodded in agreement. “We can get him at the warehouse. Wen Qing has been cooking a new batch and Wen Ruohuan likes the check the products before they’re delivered. I’ll arrange for him and Wen Chao and Wen Xu to do the inspection at the warehouse.” He looked at Lan Zhan. “How about in a week, same time and place?”
Lan Zhan nodded slowly, although a suspicious though flitted through his brain. If Wei Ying was aware that the warehouse had been previously used as a distribution site, why had nothing happened when Lan Zhan and the rookies were on their stakeout? Had they been watched and discovered? How much did Wei Ying really know about the Yiling Patriarch?
Having heard Wei Ying’s suggestion, Lan Qiren also frowned. “I don’t like it. There’s too much at stake and too many unknowns at play. What if they don’t show up?”
“They will,” Wei Ying repeated firmly.
Lan Zhan looked at him and met his eyes. He held his gaze for a few seconds before turning to his uncle. “I trust Wei Ying. We might not have another chance.”
The conversation went back and forth a bit longer, as various details and contingency plans were discussed. Finally Lan Qiren agreed, if reluctantly, to carry out the operation. Lan Xichen had checked in with his informant who had reassured him that Wei Ying’s brief absence had not raised any suspicions. Nie Mingjue thus agreed to send Wei Ying back in undercover.
A week later, Lan Zhan once again found himself sitting in the back of the unmarked surveillance van. This time, the back of the van was distinctly more crowded, as all four of the rookies were crammed in with him.
It was still early evening, a few hours from the agreed-upon time which Wei Ying had set. Lan Zhan passed the time in quiet concentration, regularly glancing at the monitors and ignoring the shuffling and whisper behind him. He also tried hard to push down the growing nerves and anxiety; he was worried about the outcome of the operation, of course, but he found himself even more worried for Wei Ying. He remembered Wei Ying’s reaction when Lan Xichen named his informant. Was Wei Ying really safe? Was he unharmed?
The phone in his pocket buzzed suddenly. It was a single message from Wei Ying, containing nothing but a dropped location pin. The address was just around the corner from the warehouse complex.
“Sizhui, take a look at this.” He handed the phone to the young officer. “What do you think?”
“From Ying-ge?” Sizhui frowned. “Why the sudden change in address? Did the plan change?”
“Not as far as I’m aware. And the rest of our team isn’t supposed to be here for another half hour.”
“You don’t think it’s a trap, do you?”
“No.” Lan Zhan’s reply was instant. He trusted Wei Ying. He had to. “But it is suspicious.”
“With what’s at stake though, we can’t afford not to check out.”
Lan Zhan nodded in agreement. He picked up his radio. “Dispatch, slight change of plans. We’re going to check out a nearby address first, backup team to proceed as planned.”
“Hold that thought.” The voice of Nie Huaisang, their station’s dispatcher, crackled through the radio. “Lan Xichen just radioed an address change as well. His informant said there was a last-minute change. Er-ge and Da-ge are taking the team to the new location and they want you to go as well. Well, ordered you to go.”
Lan Zhan frowned. The four rookies shuffled closer, looking at each with wide eyes.
“Something’s not right,” Lan Jingyi piped up. “Who’s this informant anyway and what do they know? Sounds like this is turning into a wild goose chase.”
“Mn.” Lan Zhan toyed with the radio in his hand, weighing his options.
“Lan Zhan? Detective Lan? Can you confirm, please?” Nie Huaisang’s voice came back on.
“Negative. We’re staying here and checking out the new location.”
Nie Huaisang’s sigh was audible even with the static. “Fine, but stay out of trouble. And don’t get me into trouble! I’m just here to pass on messages.”
All four pairs of eyes trained on Lan Zhan sparkled with excitement. Lan Jingyi clapped his hands loudly and was immediately shushed by everyone else. Jin Ling clambered into the driver’s seat and drove halfway around the block. On Lan Zhan’s direction, he parked in a dark side alley.
Lan Zhan checked his service weapon and holstered it. “Everyone stay here,” he ordered. “Do not come in unless I say so.”
“You can’t go in alone, Detective Lan!” Lan Sizhui protested. “At least let one of us come with you.”
“Me, me, me!” Lan Jingyi piped up enthusiastically, doing his best impression of a karate chop. “If there’s any of the Wen Crew in there, I’ll beat them up!”
“Not before you get shot first, stupid,” Jin Ling told him, rolling his eyes.
“Sizhui can come,” Lan Zhan spoke up, putting a stop to the argument. That unsettled feeling was back, coiling and uncoiling in his gut. He knew he would have to face the full force of Lan Qichen’s wrath for disobeying an order, but he was going to do this. For Wei Ying. Why he was willing to risk his career - and possibly his life - for someone he’d just met a week ago was not a question he was ready to answer. Not yet.
He and Lan Sizhui exited the van and slowly made their way out of the alley, keeping to the shadows. An open gate led from the street to a large paved yard. The warehouse looked abandoned, but in the faint light cast by the street lamps they could see fresh tire marks. Lan Sizhui wordlessly pointed at the streaks of rubber and Lan Zhan nodded. They stopped in front of a closed door.
“Position for entry,” Lan Zhan said quietly. He tested the door handle which moved with a click.
Behind him, Lan Sizhui turned and removed his gun from his holster. He kept an eye on the yard, covering his partner’s back. Lan Zhan counted down, then opened the door and slipped inside, Lan Sizhui following him in backwards. He turned as soon as they were inside, both of them listening quietly for a few seconds before Lan Zhan turned on the flashlight mounted above the barrel of his gun.
The warehouse seemed empty. Their footsteps echoed hollowly as the slowly walked forward. They had reached the centre when they heard a car approaching, coming to an idling halt in the yard outside. Before either officer could move, the entire warehouse was suddenly flooded with lights.
Lan Zhan grabbed his radio. “High alert. Visitors,” he managed to spit out in a clipped tone before five figures came into sight. He took a step closer to Lan Sizhui, shielding the younger officer with his body. Both of them held their guns in their hands, ready to fire.
The front two of the newly arrived group were two young men, cruel arrogance evident in the smirk on their faces and the casual way they both held a pistol. Lan Zhan immediately recognized them as Wen Chao and Wen Xu. Behind them came Wen Ruohan, half-hidden behind a younger man whom Lan Zhan did not recognize. He instantly disliked the smug smirk on his face and the sly look in his eyes. It was the last person, however, who drew Lan Zhan’s attention. Walking behind the group, they kept their distance from the other four. A mask concealed their features, but there was something familiar in the lanky stride, the tilt of the head. An unwelcome thought flashed through Lan Zhan’s mind, but he dismissed it. It can’t be, he thought to himself.
All five came to a stop and the two groups stared at each other. The two younger Wen’s raised their guns as well. Lan Zhan met both of their taunting looks with a slight lift of his chin. He was not about to back down.
The leader of the Wen Crew took a half step forward. “So, Yiling Laozu, this is your special surprise for me?” he sneered. “Only two cops though? How disappointing. Meng Yao has promised me a whole squad.”
The young man at his side, ducked his head and looked to the ground. Lan Zhan clenched his teeth in order to keep his hands from trembling. Although whether in fear or rage he wasn’t sure. He turned his eyes to glare at Meng Yao. So this was his brother’s informant. Dirty little bastard, he thought furiously.
Wen Ruohuan was still talking to the masked person. “Still, it’s good to know you can still follow orders. But bringing these two here is hardly a loyalty test. What do you think, boys?”
Wen Xu chuckled. “Get him to shoot them.” Wen Chao nodded eagerly, a vicious smile spreading across his face.
Beside Lan Zhan, Lan Sizhui trembled slightly. In response, Lan Zhan stepped fully in front of the rookie. He would take two bullets before he let anybody hurt Lan Sizhui.
Wen Ruohan stroked his straggly beard. “Take their guns, first,” he ordered his sons.
Both of them cowards, they hesitated. Behind them, Meng Yao moved back a few steps and drew out a gun of his own, pointing it straight at the temple of the masked figure. He looked at Lan Zhan. “Both of you, put your guns down.” In contradiction with his actions, his voice was soft and gentle. “Or I’ll shoot.”
“Why should I care?” Lan Zhan asked carefully. It can’t be him, he repeated to himself, more desperately this time.
Meng Yao smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. “Why should you care?” He flicked his gun and knocked the mask off the person’s face. He asked, mockingly, “Why don’t you tell me, Detective Lan?”
Lan Zhan met the eyes of the unmasked Yiling Patriarch, of Wei Ying. He heard Lan Sizhui gasp beside him. His own chest felt like someone had simultaneously stabbed him and was now viciously twisting all his innards. His breath came quick and shallow, his thoughts roiling in turmoil as all the missing pieces of his investigation suddenly fell into place. He had thought this was a trap set up by Meng Yao, but was it really a trap set up by Wei Ying? Who was betraying whom?
Meng Yao’s smile twisted into a cruel grimace. “Put your guns down.”
Lan Zhan clenched his teeth again but complied. He nodded at Lan Sizhui and they both set their guns down on the ground, kicking them away out of reach.
“Good, good,” Wen Ruohan said. He snapped his fingers without looking at Wei Ying. “Now shoot them.”
Slowly, Wei Ying stepped forward. As he came closer, he withdrew a small gun tucked into the waistband at the small of his back. Lan Zhan kept his eyes fixed on him. He tried to catch a glimpse of the Wei Ying he knew in the person standing across from him, but he didn’t recognize the cold, lifeless eyes; the straight, unsmiling line of his mouth; or the rigid way he held his gun, pointed straight at him.
“Shoot them!” Wen Ruohan ordered again, his voice becoming more frantic and high-pitched.
Wei Ying’s finger trembled against the trigger. Lan Zhan closed his eyes.
“Useless piece of shit!” Wen Chao snarled. He drew his own gun, shouldering Wei Ying aside. “I’ll shoot them myself!”
Lan Zhan’s eyes snapped back open. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion in front of him. Wei Ying had stumbled to the side, but immediately leapt back up as Wen Chao raised his gun and pointed it at Lan Zhan and Lan Sizhui. He threw himself in front of Wen Chao’s line of sight, his body jerking suddenly and falling to the ground. Lan Zhan’s ears were ringing.
Wen Ruohan stared dispassionately at the body of Wei Ying lying on the ground, a scarlet stain beginning to seep through his clothes and drip to the floor. “Meng Yao said you were dirty, said you were a cop,” he spat. “Looks like he was right.”
Meng Yao had walked back up to his side. He bowed his head. “If we shoot them all here, it will be harder to cover up. I suggest we tie them up and dump them in the river instead.”
Wen Ruohan nodded and ordered his sons to tie up the two officers. Wen Xu did as directed, tying Lan Zhan and Lan Sizhui’s hands behind their backs with their own handcuffs. He then knocked them both the floor with a hard shove. Lan Zhan landed awkwardly on one side, pain lancing through his shoulder which took the brunt of his weight against the cement floor. Meanwhile Wen Chao had walked up to Wei Ying who was still lying on his back, mouth pulled back in a painful grimace. With concern, Lan Zhan noted the pallor of his face, the irregular rise and fall of his chest, and the blood still seeping from the bullet hole beneath his right shoulder. He cast a quick glance at Lan Sizhui who seemed to be alright, struggling to sit up and taking stock of their new situation. Rolling over, he neared Wei Ying.
“A cop, huh?” Wen Chao snarled and viciously kicked Wei Ying in the side. The prone officer gasped and then choked with pain, attempting to curl into a ball on his side but hampered by the wound in his shoulder.
Wen Chao laughed and moved leg back for another kick. Lan Zhan somehow managed to lever his tied hands and core muscles to twist his body up and over Wei Ying, shielding him protectively. Thwarted again, Wen Chao began taking his anger out on Lan Zhan, kicking him as hard as he could with his boots, again and again.
Lan Zhan grunted as the blows came down on his back, sides and legs. Wei Ying opened his eyes and grinned at him. At least Lan Zhan thought it was supposed to be a grin; it looked more like an agonized rictus.
“I was kinda hoping we’d see each other again in a more romantic spot than this,” he choked out quietly.
Lan Zhan’s brain blanked out for a second at the admission, which also helped block out the pain now radiating throughout his entire body. He was still reeling from everything that had happened in the last ten minutes; ever since Wei Ying had taken that bullet meant for him, his body had been moving on auto-pilot.
“Let’s hope we make it out of here then,” he wheezed in response. He reached for Wei Ying’s hand and squeezed tightly. “We can worry about finding a romantic spot later.”
This time Wei Ying did smile brightly at him, teeth showing, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “It’s a date.”
Suddenly the lights went off inside the warehouse. Both Wen Chao and Wen Xu screamed in fright, screams which were suddenly cut off with sounds of scuffling and thumping. Someone cried out in pain; Lan Zhan hoped it was Meng Yao.
After several minutes which felt like an eternity, a flashlight was shone directly into Lan Zhan’s face and he closed his eyes against the blinding glare.
“Detective Lan!” Lan Jingyi was by his side, helping him sit up and removing his handcuffs.
The moment Lan Zhan’s hands were free, he knelt beside Wei Ying, pushed back his leather jacket and applied his hands directly to the wound to stop the bleeding. Wei Ying hissed in pain.
“Aiya, Lan Zhan, don’t kill me! We’ve got a date to go on first.”
“Stop talking,” Lan Zhan admonished, the tips of his ears turning pink as all flashlights were suddenly trained on him.
“I knew it!” Ouyang Zizhen exclaimed, as Jin Ling made retching sounds.
“A little help here, please?” Lan Sizhui spoke up plaintively. Lan Jingyi ran over to him and hurriedly removed the handcuffs.
The lights came back on at the same time that the large bay doors opened. A group of uniformed figures rushed in with a cacophony of noise. Furthest ahead and loudest of the group was a firefighter, who stopped so abruptly beside Wei Ying he almost crashed into him.
“Can’t even get shot properly,” the firefighter said harshly, accompanied by an impressive eye roll. “The bullet’s still lodged in your shoulder. Hopefully it hurts.” He rudely shoved Lan Zhan aside, who made space, but continued to hold Wei Ying’s hand tightly.
“Good to see you too, didi,” Wei Ying grinned. His attempt at a laugh was cut off as Jiang Cheng poked - unnecessarily - at the entry hole of the bullet. He placed several compression bandages and began yelling loudly for the paramedics and a stretcher.
Amidst the chaos, Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue took charge of the scene. They had been alerted by Nie Huaisang, who had once again gone above and beyond his normal duties as dispatcher, and had somehow managed to deduce what was happening by tracing Meng Yao’s cellphone. Meanwhile the three rookies waiting in the surveillance van had snuck to the warehouse after Lan Zhan had signalled them to be on alert and then waited for an opportune moment to stage a dramatic rescue.
Lan Jingyi explained most of this to Lan Zhan, who was barely listening. He had eyes only for Wei Ying who was still being (mis)treated by his younger brother. The ambulance had finally arrived and two paramedics were running with a stretcher, preparing to carry him to the ambulance and bring him to the hospital.
“I’m going with him.” Lan Zhan stood up, and almost fell again, saved only by Lan Jingyi’s quick reaction. He had forgotten the multiple bruises and contusions all over his body. Possibly also a fractured rib.
“You’re getting your own ambulance and hospital bed,” Jiang Cheng told him, as he lifted Wei Ying’s stretcher and carried him away.
Lan Xichen hurried over and carefully held Lan Zhan’s arm, stopping him from following. “Wangji, you’re hurt. You need to be brought to a hospital as well.”
“I need to be with Wei Ying,” he replied stubbornly.
“He’s not going anywhere. And he’s going to be fine.” Lan Xichen gave him a knowing smile.
Lan Zhan glowered at his brother; his hand felt strangely empty, ever since he had let go of Wei Ying’s. And yet, despite the pain radiating through his body and the chaos reigning around him, Lan Zhan felt oddly at peace. As if something in his life had suddenly shifted and fallen into place.
He was happy, he suddenly realized. Happy at having met Wei Ying, happy at knowing they were both on the same page about their feelings, and happy about the future that was opening up in front of them. He already saw them working together as partners, could imagine the annoyance and frustration of having to deal with Wei Ying’s demeanour on a daily basis, but also the satisfaction of working with such a brilliant officer. Not to mention attractive.
“The captain’s not going to be happy,” Lan Xichen remarked with a chuckle. He looked at Lan Zhan. “It’s been a rough day, Wangji. Any regrets?”
Lan Zhan glanced back at his brother and shook his head. “No regrets.”