Shen Wei never intended to allow himself to come so close to Kunlun—to Zhao Yunlan. But he had been too weak to resist the smiling invitation that had followed the wheedling to get him to join the SID as a consultant. After holding out for so long, the touch of Zhao Yunlan's skin against his was all it took. He was simply going to see Zhao Yunlan out—and then his resolve, that had held through all those looks and lollipops and times when Zhao Yunlan had been close enough to kiss, crumbled the moment warm fingers brushed his cheek.
The exquisite ease with which more heat followed as they went stumbling across the hallway into Zhao Yunlan's bed should not have been a surprise. Shen Wei had always known that Zhao Yunlan would have no inhibitions about seeking pleasure in his company. Even here in these peaceful and ordered times, Zhao Yunlan's cat and colleagues had made it perfectly clear that he was—experienced. Not the sort of person to tie himself to one partner, or have any expectations following a sexual encounter, but simply someone who enjoyed the act. And yet Shen Wei had not been able to keep himself from feeling more at each kiss and touch than he knew Zhao Yunlan could intend. His heart longed for the reunion it couldn't be. The shapes and sounds they made together were so familiar from his memories and from countless dreams since that it was impossible to curb the emotions that followed desire.
Morning saw them together again, in the hallway where it had all started. Shen Wei was painfully aware that he had not yet reestablished the equilibrium he had worked so hard to maintain around Zhao Yunlan. His suit was all the armor afforded to him, but now they were face to face his tie felt as if it was cutting off all the air to his lungs.
"Are you ready?" Zhao Yunlan grinned, as casual and carefree as if nothing had changed.
Shen Wei kept his expression neutral. Nothing had changed, other than the fact that Zhao Yunlan now knew that he was Dixing's Black-Cloaked Envoy. "Let's go."
It was difficult to know how to react to Zhao Yunlan's exuberant energy on the way to the meeting with Minister Gao. He said nothing that referred directly to their night together, and yet hearing him talk (and sing, and drum his fingers on the steering wheel) made it impossible for Shen Wei to stop thinking about it. In the confines of the car, Shen Wei couldn't get far enough from the scent of Zhao Yunlan's aftershave to forget what his skin tasted like under the lingering fragrance. He could not find the peace of mind he needed under these circumstances. But even his irritation did nothing to deflect Zhao Yunlan's blinding smile.
That smile only faltered when the door to Minister Gao's office opened abruptly moments after they had sat down, and Zhao Xinci strode in.
Shen Wei had not expected to encounter the former SID chief during this visit, and the man's barely suppressed double-take made it was clear that expectation was mutual. They both stood in greeting, Zhao Yunlan tense even as his father gestured at them to sit back down on the sofa. "My apologies," Zhao Xinci said to Minister Gao in a tone that was anything but apologetic. "I happened to notice that you had a meeting scheduled with Chief Zhao, and I urgently need to borrow a moment of his time."
At this, Zhao Yunlan's face twisted into an expression Shen Wei didn't have time to name before he smoothed it into a flat smile. His face remained impassive as he reacted with polite surprised to Minister Gao praising Zhao Xinci's promotion to director of the Xingdu Bureau.
Then the minister excused himself and left, leaving Zhao Xinci with his visitors in his office. As the door closed behind him, Zhao Xinci turned to them, frowning at Shen Wei's presence. "I was expecting to find you alone," he told Zhao Yunlan, who cocked his head.
"As you can see, I'm not."
Director Zhao didn't say anything else for a long moment, and Shen Wei wondered if he should offer to go. But if Zhao Yunlan had wanted to be alone with his father, he would certainly have expressed that already, and so Shen Wei said nothing.
Zhao Yunlan broke the silence first. "Whatever you've got to say, Shen Wei can hear it too."
"Oh?" Zhao Xinci said. "You know who he is, then?"
At that, Zhao Yunlan's grin warmed a bit. "My new SID consultant."
That got a grunt of not entirely pleased surprise from the former SID chief, who had been aware of Shen Wei's Haixing identity, and never made the slightest effort to integrate him into the organisation. Shen Wei felt a burst of unexpected gratitude at Zhao Yunlan keeping the promise he had made on the way over—even with his own father, Zhao Yunlan had not named him Hei Pao Shi. But Shen Wei didn't want Zhao Yunlan to feel he had to deflect any further statements about it. "I have worked with Director Zhao before," he offered.
Zhao Yunlan's mouth thinned, and his eyes widened before he nodded, expression bland. "I see." It was a perfectly calm response. Shen Wei didn't know why it made his heart sink.
"Well then," Director Zhao said, taking the seat Minister Gao had vacated. "I suppose you will soon be informed of this through your own channels anyway," and he nodded briefly at Shen Wei before leaning forward and laced his fingers together.
As he did, Zhao Yunlan sank back into the sofa in a studied sprawl that was marked by a lack of his usual easy relaxation. "So this is SID business, then?"
"Xingdu Bureau business," Zhao Xinci corrected mildly. "But SID insofar as it involves you, yes."
"What, are you going to fire me?" Zhao Yunlan said, far more casually than such a question merited. Zhao Xinci did not seem amused by that speculation, and Shen Wei himself was getting more and more uneasy—what possible subject could bring Director Zhao to invoke the Xingdu Bureau's authority over Zhao Yunlan in a matter that also concerned the political movements in Dixing?
"No. And I should let you know that quitting won't make you ineligible, so this is not something you can run away from."
Shen Wei had to force himself not to stiffen in offense on Zhao Yunlan's behalf. Director Zhao might still see his son as a child, but the man Shen Wei knew so intimately would never back down from any sort of challenge.
Zhao Yunlan himself just snorted. "Right. And what is this important Xingdu business all about then?"
"A marriage alliance." The terse phrase hit Shen Wei like a blow driving the air from his lungs. At once, he knew what this was about, and he knew why Zhao Yunlan had been summoned. And he knew that all of his efforts before had not been enough—somewhere deep in his heart he had still wanted more than he had already been given with Zhao Yunlan. One more night, one more touch—one more chance to be more than just a friend to him. A futile hope that Shen Wei had not been able to let go of even after everything he knew—and here was when it shattered into impossibility.
"Eh?" Not the wittiest of replies to his dad springing this on him out of nowhere, but whatever Zhao Yunlan had expected, it wasn't marriage. And yeah, blurting that out was getting that disappointed 'haven't I taught you better' look, but this had caught him at the absolute worst (best) time. He was still half-convinced he was snared in some kind of Dixing dream power, because the past twenty-four or so hours had been—wow. He kept wanting to lean into Shen Wei's space, to make sure he was really there, really real, but—no. He had to focus now. "What marriage?"
"A ceremonial marriage," Zhao Xinci said, as if correcting Zhao Yunlan on an idiom. "It's part of the ancient treaty we have with Dixing. To uphold the letter of it, there needs to be a symbolic union. A pair from Dixing and Haixing, wed in front of witnesses."
"Well, that sounds like a charming tradition," Zhao Yunlan said dryly, as he wondered what else was the Xingdu Bureau's director keeping from him as chief of the SID. Shen Wei's identity, political marriages—next he'd find out he had an evil twin hiding somewhere in the wings. "But I'm guessing you're not here to give me a cultural lecture."
"No. We need to arrange a wedding before the next full moon."
Next to him, Shen Wei inhaled sharply. Zhao Yunlan waited for him to say something—anything—but no words followed. Zhao Yunlan forged ahead into the silence. "And you need me to be the wedding planner?" He grinned at the flash of annoyance in his dad's eyes. Of course that wasn't why Zhao Xinci was here—Zhao Yunlan hadn't ever thought those brief, disapproving remarks about his bachelorhood were going to get him thrown into an arranged marriage, and yet faced with the prospect he found he wasn't even surprised.
"Yunlan. This is serious."
Zhao Yunlan made sure he was still smiling when he answered, "Yes, I know. Short notice like this is going to make it tricky to get the flower arrangements—"
"Don't be facetious," Zhao Xinci interrupted with a sharp wag of his finger. "If we fail to deliver what the treaty demands the consequences could be disastrous."
"And what does the treaty demand?" Zhao Yunlan asked, serious now for the sake of Shen Wei sitting so stiffly next to him, letting Zhao Xinci hold forth though he must have a lot more information to share.
"As I have been trying to tell you—a marriage. The last one was entered shortly before I took over as chief of the SID, and they were both young, so we all figured we had more time, but—" For a moment, there was a hitch in Zhao Xinci's voice, and a solemn darkness in his eyes. Then he shook his head, all business again. "Our widower remarrying wouldn't count. It needs to be all new."
"All new by the next full moon? Which is..."
"In three days," Zhao Xinci said, and there was that familiar vertigo of everything shifting around Zhao Yunlan as the future rearranged itself. His first instinct was to reach for Shen Wei to steady himself, so he sat forward to avoid the temptation.
"Well. No time to put on a Bachelor spin-off, then."
Zhao Xinci made a face at the joke that might have been amusement, but his voice remained somber. "I suppose back in those early days there wasn't any trouble finding eager couples, but as far back as our records go it seems it's always been a bit of a headache for Haixing. Can't find a lot of people around here who know about Dixing, and even fewer who'd want to marry anyone from there."
At that Zhao Yunlan almost did reach for Shen Wei, just to—what? It wasn't like one night together was grounds for a proposal or anything, and—and Zhao Xinci was still talking.
"—so it usually falls to the current Lord Guardian, which does seem to make the Dixing side happy. And besides, what's one more ceremonial duty when you've already been saddled with that title?"
"How ceremonial are we talking here?" Zhao Yunlan asked.
"Does it matter? You're unwed, aren't you?"
"Me."
Zhao Xinci shrugged. "You've filled the SID with Yashou and Dixingren. That doesn't exactly give you a lot of options. Or is Lin Jing still unmarried?"
Zhao Yunlan was pretty sure he didn't have the budget to cover whatever bonus Lin Jing would demand for that. And Xiao Guo—he shuddered. If there could be anything worse than failing to deliver what the treaty demanded, it would be to deliver Xiao Guo. "And who is Dixing sending?" he asked, mostly to stall for time while he tried to process that, yes, he was really talking to his dad about getting married in three days.
Thursday, his brain informed him. Surprise! You're getting married on Thursday. He bit back a hysterical giggle as Zhao Xinci explained about the great honor it was for a Dixingren to be officially permitted to reside in Haixing, and how there was a waiting list and whatever, because he'd walked in here with nothing but Shen Wei on his mind, and now—
Shen Wei.
Wait. If he did this—what if it changed that? The thing. The thing that had happened between them—that connection, the way Zhao Yunlan felt about Shen Wei like he had never felt about anyone before. He didn't know what to call it, but for him to be officially married to someone else, no matter how ceremonially, that seemed...wrong.
For the first time since his dad started talking, Zhao Yunlan risked a peek at Shen Wei.
Shen Wei was looking as solemn as the gravity of the situation required. He was nodding along to Zhao Xinci's explanation, his beautiful eyes sharp and intelligent behind his glasses, not a hair out of place. He looked so good like this—and now Zhao Yunlan couldn't help but see the contrast to how delicious he'd looked last night, with his hair in sweat-soaked disarray, a flush over his smooth skin.
Somehow he must have caught Zhao Yunlan looking, because his focus shifted over to him. Last night Zhao Yunlan had felt the weight of Shen Wei's gaze like a physical force—heat and gravity, pulling him relentlessly closer. Now his regard was almost entirely blank as he said, "Yes?"
"Ah," Zhao Yunlan said. "I just…"
"Do you have any objections to Dixing's arrangements?" Shen Wei asked. The words felt exceptionally loaded. Should Zhao Yunlan have objections? Did Shen Wei have anything to do with the arrangements? Zhao Yunlan hadn't been paying close enough attention to his dad's explanation to guess what his answer should be. "Um," he said. "I'm sure sure Dixing is doing great, with the arrangements and—and everything."
"They won't rock the boat," Zhao Xinci said shortly. "As long as you show up to play the groom, there will be a bride."
A—bride? Zhao Yunlan startled at the word. It felt wrong. Maybe it just made it too real that there was another person being shoved into this on the Dixing side, too. Which was bad enough just in general, but some poor woman who'd never even met him? And she was supposed to be his wife? Ceremonial marriage or not, that made him feel like the villain of historical drama. "And she'll be…" Informed? Prepared? Fully briefed on everything this thing entailed in the ways Zhao Yunlan really needed to be himself?
"I'm sure she'll be very pretty, and of good family," Zhao Xinci said.
"Pretty?" Zhao Yunlan shot back, incredulous. That wasn't what he'd wanted to know, and also did very little to assuage his discomfort with the whole situation. "Fine, but—"
"Oh yes," Zhao Xinci said, ignoring him. "And I asked for someone with a harmless power, so you don't have to worry about that."
Zhao Yunlan had just spent the night with Hei Pao Shi—quite likely the most powerful person anywhere in all of Dixing or Haixing. That Zhao Yunlan might worry about Dixing powers rather than daydream about their various applications was so ridiculous he had to laugh. "Wow. Perfectly my type, then: harmless and pretty."
Zhao Xinci sighed at his tone. "I trust you won't make yourself difficult at the wedding?"
It took focusing on the tiny pinpricks of pain where his fingernails dug into his palms rather than the swell of anger behind his ribcage for Zhao Yunlan to find a cheerful smile. "I don't know. Will I? I really don't have a lot to work with here."
His dad fanned his hands in that supremely annoying 'no need to get emotional' gesture. "Now, now. I understand this is all very sudden, and that you never intended for your work with the SID to land you in a relationship with a Dixingren."
Zhao Yunlan nearly choked, swallowing back a retort about what kind of relationship he had very intentionally landed in with a Dixingren. It wouldn't be right to bring it up—what he had with Shen Wei wasn't a joke, wasn't something to shove in his dad's face, no matter how satisfying it might be to see him speechless at actually, Dixing's Envoy and I are fucking. Good thing having his dad around was better than any cold shower, because it saved him from getting embarrassingly obviously distracted as the memories of last night washed over him again. But it was by thinking about his very favorite Dixingren that Zhao Yunlan could grin and say, "Well. As long as they're pretty, I think I can manage."
"I'm sure she will be," Shen Wei said in stiff tones.
Shit. Had Zhao Yunlan been too indiscreet? Had he let himself glance at Shen Wei when he spoke? He'd been trying so hard not to, but around Shen Wei he was as helpless as a moth with one of those bug-zapping lights. Trying to draw attention away from the fact that he had probably been staring at Shen Wei's mouth when he said pretty, Zhao Yunlan gestured expansively. "Yeah. Of course. What Dixingren isn't? Um. So. What's my part in all this?"
"All you need to do is show up, proclaim yourself unattached, and it will all go smoothly," Zhao Xinci said.
That snagged Zhao Yunlan's attention. He sat up. "What do you mean, 'unattached'?" Because before his dad had just said unmarried, which he was. But unattached...
"I believe the current terminology is single." Shen Wei said it mildly.
Zhao Yunlan looked up at him in surprise. For all that Zhao Yunlan had been ready to do what he must to preserve the treaty, if Shen Wei had any reservations, because of them—well, Zhao Yunlan had many of those himself. And for Shen Wei's sake, he would defy his father in a heartbeat and find some other solution—his mind had already started spinning with possibilities when Shen Wei turned to look directly at him.
"And you are, are you not?"
That the question was coming from Shen Wei shouldn't really matter. It definitely shouldn't hurt, seeing Shen Wei look as cool and implacable as when Zhao Yunlan had first pressed him about Lu Roumei's case. Zhao Yunlan had made a point of being single, after all—one more way in which he had signalled his availability and interest, should Shen Wei feel like reciprocating.
Which he had—and how. But they hadn't talked about it. Zhao Yunlan had been so...happy. He'd thought Shen Wei had been, too—hadn't wanted to make things awkward, especially since he didn't know what would come out of his mouth if he opened it to say I like you. Possible more than that, given that what he felt for Shen Wei was—a lot. He had thought he would have time for things like talking later, when he didn't feel like his heart was about to burst.
But now Shen Wei was waiting for an answer, and Zhao Xinci too, looking impatient with the interruption, and Shen Wei hadn't said And you're not anymore—he'd just put it out there, that Zhao Yunlan must be available, as if he himself had no interest in staking a claim. "Yeah," Zhao Yunlan said after what felt like too long a pause that nobody rushed to fill. He worked up a grin. "As long as they're not expecting a virgin!"
"Yunlan," Zhao Xinci snapped, then sighed in exasperation. "Can I count on you for the wedding?"
Zhao Yunlan swallowed against disappointment that his dad would feel the need to ask that, after he'd already agreed. Since Shen Wei had shown no sign of wanting him to hold back, of course he was going to do it. He had no choice, other than leaving everyone involved scrambling to find some other poor sod to replace him—someone who might have their own motives for wanting to marry some pretty Dixing girl. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."
Weddings. Shen Wei was supposed to be focusing on his students, but he stumbled on a familiar example in his lecture on sequence assembly and metagenomics as thoughts of matrimony kept intruding.
He had been glad to have his university schedule as an excuse to leave after finally getting out of Minister Gao's office. But now he felt terrible for the students, who had already had to correct two basic errors in his notes on the blackboard. They expressed concern, and he had been forced to smile and plead a headache to placate them, only to find himself fending off worried young women with an assortment of painkillers before he dismissed class and escaped to the peace and quiet of his office.
He could not escape the thought of weddings. First the one where the snooping journalist that Minister Gao worried about had apparently seen more than he should have. Not that Shen Wei had done enough there—he should have done more, shouldn't have failed to protect the bride's father. Zhao Yunlan's disappointment and distrust after that had been such that Shen Wei had thought their friendship—the most precious thing to him after Zhao Yunlan's life—had been lost to him. But then everything changed.
No, that wasn't right. It wasn't that some change simply occurred—it was that Zhao Yunlan wrought it. Using his wits and resourcefulness to not only beat Zhu Jiu and win the Hallows back, but also to unmask Dixing's Black-Cloaked Envoy.
Learning his identity should have scared Zhao Yunlan off. Shen Wei had seen the fear he was holding in check the first time Hei Pao Shi appeared to him, knew that Zhao Yunlan was not as complacent about the threat of Shen Wei's power as he seemed. Instead, having that knowledge only drew him nearer. As near as Shen Wei was ever going to get him, and it had all just been—what? Zhao Yunlan satisfying his curiosity? A momentary diversion? Whatever those hours had been to Shen Wei, he knew they could be nothing compared to the arrangement Zhao Yunlan had been offered by his father.
Zhao Yunlan had accepted it in a way that confirmed that he had always needed more than Shen Wei could give. Zhao Yunlan's desires might not be discerning, but what he was seeking in a marriage companion was a girl who was pretty and well-bred. That, and harmless, they had said. And though it galled Shen Wei to hear his people spoken of as if they meant any more harm than Haixingren did, he knew it was true that he himself was dangerous. His powers and his enemies—it was why he had tried to keep himself apart from Zhao Yunlan for so long, after all.
Unless that separation had been his mistake.
It was a new thought, and it struck him like a bolt of Dixing's thunderstorm. If he had confided in Zhao Yunlan, talked to him, they could have—
The unmistakable touch of dark energy pulled Shen Wei's attention to his office window. Power radiated through the anemic Haixing atmosphere. He had already closed his door for privacy, but he hurried to gesture it locked before calling his blade, ready for whatever the smoke he could see coalescing might bring.
It was the Regent's messenger, with tidings of the upcoming wedding. It was not much more informative than Zhao Xinci had been, simply asking him to arrange for her transfer to Haixing at the time of the ceremony.
"The Regent humbly requests Hei Pao Daren do Dixing the honor of being our officiator and witness," the messenger intoned. It didn't sound very humble.
Shen Wei stared at it, wishing he could transfer his glare to the Regent. The previous time Shen Wei hadn't even been at the ceremony, as the Regent had insisted on handling everything himself. Shen Wei had counted on the same being true this time. "What is keeping him from performing his duty?"
"The Regent is very busy with Hei Pao Daren's request for information about one Zhu Jiu, and wishes to present his results without delay."
A transparent excuse. Shen Wei huffed. More like the Regent was too lazy to open the portal and bring the bride, and too cowardly to attend a gathering where the infamous Zhao Xinci was sure to be. So Shen Wei would have to give up his half-formed plans to keep away, and instead don his robes and mask and head the ceremony. "Fine," he said, and dismissed the messenger.
Now all he had to do was let Zhao Yunlan know about the arrangements.
Or did he? Shen Wei stared at the spot where the smoke had been. Maybe Zhao Yunlan didn't need the information right away. He was going to be busy, after all—he'd even turned down Vice-Minister Guo for dinner with everything that had come up. The traditional location for the ceremony was the park by the portal to Dixing, and even with Wang Zheng helping him find the right people to contact, it would take some doing to make sure it was all shut down. And they would need to talk to the Flower Tribe about getting the grounds to blossom, and see if the Snake Tribe were willing to sell them any of their double fortune baijiu—Shen Wei had clear memories of Zhao Xinci's predecessor complaining about the endless negotiations to gather all auspicious symbols for the last treaty wedding, and that one had been anticipated for some time.
That, and Zhao Yunlan had the troublesome Cong Bo case to worry about now.
Yes. Taking all that into account, Shen Wei should probably not bother him now. With his lecture such a mess, what he should do was write down some further notes for his students. And then he could ask—oh, no. With a sting of guilty regret he remembered that Li Qian wasn't there to put them in a slide show and send them to the students' computers. Which meant he would also need to find someone else to help him make sure the students would receive the notes in good time—yes. He really needed to start on that now, to make sure he wasn't causing the students to fall behind on metagenomics. It might take all night, but he would prepare both the notes and his next lecture in a way that guaranteed they would all understand what he had been trying to explain today.
He could talk to Zhao Yunlan tomorrow.
Ever since his dad dropped the marriage bombshell on him, Zhao Yunlan had been pushed along by the shockwave. He'd started running to keep from the blast from catching up when he said yes, and he was pressing the SID into keeping up with him.
He had put everyone who wasn't vital for the whole paparazzi mess on sorting out the practicalities the Xingdu Bureau was too high and mighty for, and he'd avoided Zhu Hong's heartbroken glances and Da Qing's relentless lobbying for a bachelor party. (Mostly because he knew from experience that Da Qing's idea of a party involved too much fish.)
Sang Zan he'd asked to go through any sources on Alliance Era Haixing and also Dixing culture to see if he could get more of an idea of what he was actually getting into, since Zhao Xinci had remained frustratingly vague on any of the details of what was expected. "Just swear to marry the girl and you'll be set," his dad had said with a dismissive wave.
Sure, because some poor woman hustled up from Dixing to Haixing would definitely be fine if her husband just said his vows and then left her to her own devices. It wasn’t not like she would have anywhere to stay, and Zhao Yunlan's apartment was—well. It was tidy now, at least. Because of Shen Wei.
Shen Wei. Zhao Yunlan was trying so hard to not think about Shen Wei, and yet everything kept circling back to him. In this case, it was logical, though. Maybe if Shen Wei let Zhao Yunlan sleep on his couch, whoever he was marrying could stay at his apartment until she found something permanent? Yes. That sounded good, except for how Zhao Yunlan would have to talk to Shen Wei. Which he absolutely could do because they were fine, everything was fine, Zhao Yunlan had totally had sex with other people and then hung out with them afterwards without any issues or expectations.
It was just like that. Except with Shen Wei. Who wanted him to get married to someone else because—because why would anyone with free choice want to marry Zhao Yunlan. Of course he could talk to Shen Wei about—what was it again? Rooms.
Or.
Or he could have Wang Zheng call around and see if any of the local hotels had government discounts and put their new arrival up there, because surely they could afford that? And it would be best for everyone. Yes. That was a better plan.
Zhao Yunlan bit down on his lollipop stick and stared hard at the slowly beeping speaker phone on his desk. Was the Dragon City Parks and Recreation Bureau ever going to take him off hold? He didn't like this sitting around waiting. It was interfering with his whole strategy of moving on with everything, away from that detonation that was making his personal life fall to pieces behind him.
It was almost a relief to hang up on the Your call is important to us message when Cong Bo showed up to blackmail them in person.
"Three days," the cocky bastard was saying, and Zhao Yunlan nearly laughed in his face because he had so much more to worry about on that particular deadline. "You have three days to go public with your secrets, or I go public for you. Dragon City deserves to know!"
"Right," Zhao Yunlan said. "Okay."
Cong Bo stared at him. Zhao Yunlan tilted his head in a what? He didn't want to overplay his hand, but Lin Jing had gotten fantastic results from his digging, and was currently propping open a back door into Cong Bo's system looking for where the guy kept his backups.
"So you'll do it?"
Zhao Yunlan spread his hands. "Sure. I mean, what choice do we have?"
Cong Bo's eyes narrowed. "None. Unless you want all your dirty laundry aired." And with that he pulled some printed photographs out of his jacket pocket.
Zhao Yunlan leaned in to look at the stack of photos that Cong Bo placed on his desk, and it was as if that shockwave he had felt at his back all day finally hit. His ears were ringing, the air knocked out of his lungs as hard as if he'd been thrown on the ground. Those glossy prints showed him and Shen Wei, tangled up in a kiss against Zhao Yunlan's front door. The memories of the moment assaulted him: The shock of cold hands and closeness when Shen Wei found the gap between his sweater and his jeans to bracket his waist. The sound the door made when his back hit it. Grabbing Shen Wei, trying to breathe and fumbling for his keys all at once, because his gamble for a goodnight kiss as he left Shen Wei's apartment had suddenly turned into so much more and he was not losing his chance—
"Yes," Cong Bo smirked. "It might be good for the general public to know just how close the SID chief is to the Dixingren living among us."
That snapped Zhao Yunlan out of his ill-timed flashback. He looked up from the photos with his best expressionless stare. "As a government employee, it is true that my personal life reflects on my public performance," he said. Or Cong Bo could just wait until Thursday like everyone else and Zhao Yunlan's personal life would be a public performance. But probably pictures of him and Dixing's Envoy making out would muddy the whole 'unattached' waters—not to mention that Shen Wei probably didn't want his temporary slip in judgment paraded around in public—so he'd put this on the list of things to fix.
Cong Bo wasn't looking quite so smug anymore. "Alright," he said. "Well. As long as you understand."
"I do," Zhao Yunlan nodded.
"Three days," Cong Bo said, and moved toward the door. "Let me know how you're planning on releasing the news."
"Let you know how?"
With one last arrogant grin, Cong Bo dialed Zhao Yunlan's phone. Like getting his number was some kind of magic trick, and not a common occurrence for pretty people all over Dragon City.
Zhao Yunlan unwrapped another lollipop. He was going to have to talk to Shen Wei. But Lin Jing wasn't done with his work on Cong Bo's systems yet, so—tomorrow. Surely it could wait until tomorrow.
With a sigh, Zhao Yunlan hit re-dial for the Parks Bureau.
Shen Wei stayed in the office so late the cleaners came and went—it was good to catch up with Lao Mu, and hear that the young granddaughter who sometimes tagged along was doing well in school. He considered staying until morning, but with his reputation at the university already tarnished by his involvement with several murder cases as well as a very poor lecture, he decided it would be wiser to at least go home and change. It would have been no great effort to portal from his office to his apartment, but a walk in the cool night air would do him good.
Arriving back at the apartment building, Shen Wei's gaze was drawn—as always—to Zhao Yunlan's windows.
They were dark. That was—good. Zhao Yunlan must be asleep. He had much to do. It was good that he was resting, and not waiting up needlessly. Coming up the stairs and walking through the hallway, Shen Wei's attention was on the silence. Sometimes there would be the tinny noise of Zhao Yunlan's mobile phone speaker or his television playing sounds even in the dark. Sometimes he didn't bother turning the lights on when he went to the bathroom, and Shen Wei could hear water rushing through the pipes in the dark.
He heard nothing but his own footsteps. His skin prickled as he turned his back on Zhao Yunlan's door—last night they had both gone tumbling through that door together, and fallen into bed, and—
Shen Wei wasn't going to intrude on Zhao Yunlan's privacy with any of his other senses. It was none of his business how Zhao Yunlan was sleeping tonight.
It had been perfectly logical to stay overnight in the office. Zhao Yunlan didn't lose any time commuting as he figured out how to solve their most pressing problems, and then he had his choice of couches to sleep on as he waited to put his plans in motion. He very nearly ended up on the floor when Da Qing stretched all four cat legs to make room between Zhao Yunlan's body and the back of the couch, but after a tussle they found an agreeable configuration. Wise in the ways of all-nighters, he even had a change of mostly-clean clothing in his gym bag.
It meant he could get his day started bright and early, venturing out for a quick breakfast of hot youtiao and cold soy milk before those who had spent the night elsewhere returned to pick up where they'd left off. Fortunately it seemed like Zhu Jiu was still off licking his wounds, because they all had their hands too full with Cong Bo's mischief and the whole wedding planning thing to also face down a cackling budget villain.
Doing the rounds of the SID, Zhao Yunlan wandered through the library to find Sang Zan hard at work. He had diligently marked up any pages he came across that contained pictures of Dixingren and Haixingren interacting in any way that wasn't fighting. He had a set of flashcards for wedding-related vocabulary on his desk, and was cross-checking the pages against those words. So far none of what he had collected contained anything useful for Zhao Yunlan, but for someone who hadn't been able to write anything beyond My name is Sang Zan and I love you Ge Lan a couple of weeks ago, it was quite impressive.
While the Parks Bureau continued to ignore everyone's best efforts to get them a permit, the unlikely duo of Zhu Hong and Xiao Guo were working on arranging an 'incident' that would give the SID cause to close the park down for public safety. Apparently the plan involved snakes. Lots of snakes.
"Okay, but remember that we all have to stick around there for long enough to do the whole ceremony thing," Zhao Yunlan told them. Lao Chu nodded in dour agreement. "I get a snake up my pants at my own wedding and I dock everyone's bonuses for the rest of the year. Understood?"
Xiao Guo trembled. Zhu Hong rolled her eyes and mumbled something about places snakes didn't want to be. Zhao Yunlan pretended not to hear her as he walked off to the lab.
Lin Jing had done an exemplary job and was exempt from any snake-related bonus-docking. This news would have made him light up, but he was already glowing with accomplished pride, cackling as he explained the technical details of how he'd already ensured Cong Bo's backups (and his backups' backups) were useless. "And he won't suspect a thing until we pull the trigger on that genius—and very flashy—disk wipe!"
"Nice," Zhao Yunlan said, clapping Lin Jing on the shoulder as he considered what options they had if Cong Bo had printed out any of his other shots. The set of photos he had left in Zhao Yunlan's office was in a locked drawer, impossible to forget.
With Lin Jing ready to go, and the information Minister Gao had given them about all the ways in which Cong Bo had failed at any journalistic due diligence, all that remained was returning Cong Bo's visit with a house call.
Which he should tell Shen Wei about. If everything went well, there wouldn't be anything for Shen Wei to worry about. But if Zhao Yunlan fucked anything up—if Lin Jing had missed something, if any of what they did triggered retaliation before they could stop it… Zhao Yunlan didn't want Shen Wei facing that sort of scenario with no warning. Especially since he already owed Shen Wei an apology.
Zhao Yunlan checked his phone. This time of day, Shen Wei would be in his office—Tuesdays he only had lectures in the afternoon. So that was good. Zhao Yunlan unwrapped a lollipop and put it in his mouth. He couldn't say what flavor it was, just that it helped make his mouth a little less dry as he made the call to Shen Wei's office.
"Hello?" Shen Wei sounded like he was smiling.
"Hey, it's me. I need to talk to you about something."
"Are you having any trouble with the arrangements?" The smile in Shen Wei's voice had faded.
Zhao Yunlan swallowed. Of course Shen Wei's priorities would be with the ceremony. Why would there be anything else to talk about? Forcing a chuckle, he said, "Yeah, but nothing Wang Zheng can't straighten out once she gets to give the senior officials at the Parks Bureau an earful."
"Good," Shen Wei said. Then, "So what is it you wish to discuss?"
"Not over the phone," Zhao Yunlan said. Lin Jing had taken the spy camera offline, but it was possible Cong Bo could hack into the communications network. Lin Jing could, after all. "Can I come over to your office before your lecture?"
"Of course, Chief Zhao," Shen Wei said, as cordial as with any student.
"Thanks." Zhao Yunlan hung up. Took his lollipop out and looked at it. Cherry. Perfect for making his lips red and glossy when he felt like making a point of what they could do, and so perfectly wasted on a phone call. And on Shen Wei.
Shen Wei was failing to concentrate on his notes for the day's lecture when Zhao Yunlan walked through his door. He was standing before he knew it, worried as he was. "What did you want to talk about?"
Zhao Yunlan slumped in the visitor's chair, looking pained. Shen Wei felt a rush of worry—had Zhu Jiu done something? Had anything happened at the SID? It subsided and was replaced by a different kind of concern as Zhao Yunlan explained about the camera planted in his office, and Cong Bo, and apologized—though Shen Wei had been the one to use his powers carelessly where anyone could have walked in on him. It wasn't much different from that—and if he'd known enough to recognize the camera for what it was, none of what Cong Bo had captured on film would be a problem.
"It's not your fault," Zhao Yunlan said again, and then touched his jacket briefly before drawing a deep breath. "But there's one more thing that you should know."
For a moment, Shen Wei wondered if this was about the wedding ceremony. He didn't even know what he was expecting—that Zhao Yunlan had experienced a change of heart? That some other Haixingren had expressed an interest in the role? But of course that was all set. Zhao Yunlan had said so over the phone.
Even so, it took him a moment to understand what he was looking at when Zhao Yunlan took a thin stack of photographs from his jacket and wordlessly put them on the desk.
Shen Wei reached for the photographs, pulling them close, and Zhao Yunlan didn't stop him. They were—this was—oh. A flash of rage went through him, that this man Cong Bo had taken these illicit pictures. Had been there, in a moment not meant for him, and seen Zhao Yunlan like—like that. Shen Wei should have noticed the intruder. Should have stopped him. If he hadn't been so entirely absorbed in what was transpiring with Zhao Yunlan—but he had been. Shen Wei pushed his glasses up, trying to think of what to say. "I'm sorry," he blurted. "This is—unforgivable of me, I should never have—"
Zhao Yunlan went still, face strangely blank before he spoke. "No, it's fine, don't worry. I should have spotted that sneaky bastard and his camera—if Minister Gao had warned us earlier…" He sucked in a breath. "Anyway. I wanted you to know that he has these. In case it would make trouble with the whole wedding thing."
"Ah. Yes. That was good of you," Shen Wei said, as he processed that. Of course that's where his concern should lie too—with Zhao Yunlan's wedding. Which he was clearly anticipating, hoping that nothing would go wrong as he was handed his perfect partner—which was good. It was perfect. It was what Dixing needed, for the treaty and for the future. Shen Wei should be glad.
"It's okay, Hei Lao-ge," Zhao Yunlan said. Then he smiled, and Shen Wei, helpless to resist, smiled back at him. "I have a plan."
Bullying Cong Bo into being less of a fucking pain in the ass was easy, once Lin Jing worked his magic.That, and maybe the man had some human decency under all that paparazzi smugness, because he seemed genuinely shaken by some of the information Zhao Yunlan delivered from Mnister Gao.
Cong Bo flailed about saying he didn't know, he had no idea, he didn't mean—and Shen Wei lectured him like he was a failing student that could still be saved with some tough love. Very tough. Shen Wei was pissed. Well. Cong Bo deserved it. Mostly.
Zhao Yunlan narrowed his eyes in contemplation. The thing was, he agreed with Cong Bo, at least in principle. Not with the sneaking around taking paparazzi shots of people minding their own damn business, but with what he was after here. Keeping the SID secret in an age of ubiquitous cell phone cameras and social media was a lost cause. Dixingren existed, Dixing was real—just because most people preferred to think of it as some long ago fairytale, that didn't change the facts. And with Dixingren like Zhu Jiu on the loose, Dixing was getting nothing but bad press in the paranoid corners of the internet where people talked about those experiences they didn't dare share in person for fear of being ridiculed.
Ending the secrecy wasn't Zhao Yunlan's call to make. But what he could do was think ahead, and plan for the day when his superiors were proven wrong, and word of Dixing could no longer be stopped. "By the way," he said, catching Cong Bo's shamefaced gaze as Shen Wei broke off to let Zhao Yunlan speak. "Are you doing anything on Thursday? I might have a job for you…"
Details all worked out, they drove back in silence from Cong Bo's place. Shen Wei had things he needed to do at the university, so Zhao Yunlan dropped him off there. They exchanged some kind of farewell—Zhao Yunlan wasn't sure what he'd said—and then Zhao Yunlan was left watching Shen Wei disappear up the university stairs.
Of course he had work. Zhao Yunlan had work, too. Plenty of it. He should let Minister Gao know Cong Bo wouldn't be a problem, and he had two missed calls from Wang Zheng and a text that read, call for update. That was important. He should call her back. He shouldn't need to cross his arms over his steering wheel and lower his head against it for a moment, trying to find a way to breathe. But he did, and he couldn't even fool himself that the ache in his chest and the knot in his stomach was gastritis—though to be sure the stress wasn't going to help with that.
Having been allowed to see Shen Wei so unguarded and hold him so close, it hurt to be pushed away like this. To have Shen Wei say he should never have followed Zhao Yunlan across the hallway like that. Even knowing Shen Wei had been encouraging Zhao Yunlan to take responsibility and get married to someone else, he had still hoped that maybe what they'd shared had...meant something. That it was because he was the exalted Envoy that Shen Wei couldn't let personal feelings interfere with what he saw as his duty to Dixing. But whatever Zhao Yunlan had read in his expression when he looked at the photos, it hadn't been passion, or tenderness, or anything he might have hoped for.
Shen Wei had been angry. Shen Wei regretted it.
Well. Zhao Yunlan swallowed, and sat up. Took a deep breath, and smiled at two students coming out of the engineering building to gawk at his ride. Zhao Yunlan had a policy not to regret one-night stands, so he couldn't help Shen Wei there. Not his problem. And besides, they should both be glad there were no feelings involved here. It would make the whole wedding—the whole being married that came after—a whole lot easier for both of them, since they had to work together and everything.
This was good. Anything more would have been a mistake. And if Zhao Yunlan couldn't shake a powerful urge to find some way of making that mistake happen, no matter how impossible—He twisted the key in the ignition and stomped the car into motion. That would pass. He was sure it would.
That night, Shen Wei broke the silence of the hallway by knocking on Zhao Yunlan's door, later than was truly polite. But he had been absorbed in work until he discovered that Zhao Yunlan had left the photographs behind. Shen Wei needed to return them.
But Zhao Yunlan didn't answer. There were no lights on in his apartment, no sounds coming from behind the locked door. There wasn't even the smell of take-out. Could Zhao Yunlan be feeling sick again? The last time—the first time he let Shen Wei through this door—he had been quite insensible. It was entirely possible that he was in there, and had been under too much stress while eating too little, and needed his medication, and—
For the sake of Zhao Yunlan's health, Shen Wei allowed himself to send a wave of dark energy inside, rolling through the familiar contours of Zhao Yunlan's apartment. It dissipated without finding anything living, other than a few fruit flies gathered around the garbage can. Despite the late hour, Zhao Yunlan wasn't home.
Shen Wei went back to his empty apartment, and cooked enough congee to feed two for dinner and breakfast, carefully not thinking about how soon he would have to go back to cooking for one. When he was done, he put half of it aside in a plastic container, and walked back across the hallway. Getting no answer, he left the food by the door.
It was still there the next morning. Maybe Zhao Yunlan hadn't been home at all. Or maybe he had been, and hadn't seen it—or maybe he had, and thought it unwise to continue accepting Shen Wei's food. After all, Zhao Yunlan was expecting a bride on the morrow, and a new wife would want to cook for her husband, wouldn't she?
Shen Wei collected the congee. Threw it away. Washed the container. Left for work.
The photographs in his briefcase felt like they had a weight and a presence, pulling at his awareness for the duration of his walk. When he arrived at the university he thought about leaving them somewhere safe, because what if he dropped his bag and they spilled out? But reaching to touch them made him feel like he'd brushed against a scalding stovetop. He wanted them safe. He didn't want to look at them.
So, he decided, he would be careful. He wouldn't let anyone else touch the briefcase. He definitely wouldn't drop it. And then after work—after he answered the correspondence he had let pile up—he would go to the SID and leave them there. Chief Zhao could take them and lock them up or destroy them—whatever the Cong Bo case needed. The man had sounded contrite enough, but maybe some evidence of his wrongdoing was still needed.
Holding a beer bottle in one hand and a fistful of popcorn in the other while covered in confetti was not how Zhao Yunlan had planned on seeing Shen Wei on the night before his own wedding.
In fact, Zhao Yunlan had very carefully planned on not seeing Shen Wei at all. And yet here he was, standing in the SID’s doorway with a few stray bits of colored paper stuck to his shiny shoes, and a startled expression on his face as he recoiled from the noise of computer speakers playing dance beats. When Zhao Yunlan caught his gaze that changed into a forced smile. "Chief Zhao," he said, making Zhao Yunlan's stomach drop. "Congratulations on the occasion of..." Shen Wei trailed off as he glanced around uncertainly.
There were decorations everywhere. Auspicious New Year's ornaments, paper lanterns, fairy lights and streamers. Plastic bamboo was crammed into stands along the walls, decorated with balloons numbering zero through nine, though six was missing. There was beer and baijiu, fried food, and bowls with nuts and melon seeds and lollipops. Lots of lollipops. Tied to the bunting, glued to the bamboo, scattered randomly on the table.
The SID hadn't had a lot of time to prepare, so they had raided all their boxes of festive things, and whatever they could get their hands on at the supermarket in an afternoon. Zhao Yunlan had almost been impressed when he returned from signing the contract with the head of Parks and Recreation to be assaulted by a surprise congratulations on your ceremonial marriage party.
Before either of them could say anything more, Da Qing bounded up to Shen Wei with a fried fish on a stick. "Bachelor's party!" He offered Shen Wei the fish, stick first.
Shen Wei shook his head, and Da Qing shrugged at this incomprehensible choice.
"This is traditional?" Shen Wei asked, sounding dubious, the words half-obscured by the pounding bass of whatever song was on Lin Jing's terrible playlist.
Zhao Yunlan had to laugh. "Oh, no, it's just—" It's just that he had been joking with everyone at the SID about the wedding, because that's what they expected. It helped snap Zhu Hong out of the first day's tremulous smiling and wet eyes, helped Da Qing stop pestering him with questions about Professor Shen—it even helped Guo Changcheng's nerves. Xiao Guo wasn't nervous about the wedding in particular, but he had been ordered to do stick training with Lao Chu or suffer his chief's wrath, and so he was a bit of a wreck. "These guys. They like an excuse to celebrate."
"Professor Shen!" Zhu Hong walked up and thrust a bottle of beer at Shen Wei with such determination that he took it by sheer reflex. Zhu Hong nodded, her bold red lips quirking in a smile. "You should drink," she said.
"I don't drink," Shen Wei reminded her politely, and Zhao Yunlan strode over to help him out—but with a beer in one hand and popcorn in the other he couldn't figure out how to reach for Shen Wei's bottle. He hastily stuffed all the popcorn in his mouth, only realizing his mistake when he couldn't say anything as Zhu Hong went on.
"Tomorrow Chief Zhao gets married. Tonight we drink." Not a hair was out of place on her head, and if there was a faint flush on her cheeks that could well be because of the confetti fight they had been having before Shen Wei entered. (Zhao Yunlan had been about to escalate it with popcorn.) It could also be because she was on her way to turning into one sloshed snake.
Zhao Yunlan tried to chew more quickly so that he could interfere if she said anything she would regret in the morning, but Wang Zheng beat him to it. She came sneaking up behind Zhu Hong, and used a sawed-off tube of plastic bamboo stuffed with confetti to blow a cloud of colorful paper distractions everywhere. She laughed merrily at Zhu Hong's offended expression, and ran off when Zhu Hong looked around for more ammo. "Popcorn," Zhao Yunlan said, pointing helpfully at Lin Jing's copper contraption.
Zhu Hong nodded. "Popcorn," she agreed, and grabbed two handfuls before chasing after Wang Zheng.
In the background, the music shifted into something with less bass and more crooning. Zhao Yunlan looked at Shen Wei, who was holding his briefcase in a white-knuckled grip with one hand and awkwardly clutching the beer he had been given in the other. "Do you want to come in?" Zhao Yunlan asked, because he had the sense that Shen Wei was about to bolt. And maybe he should just have let Shen Wei leave, but—
But Shen Wei was Hei Pao Shi, and might have important information. Must have—why else would he be here?
"I don't want to intrude," Shen Wei said, over a sudden squeal and round of laughter as Zhu Hong ambushed Wang Zheng.
"Ah, they won't mind." Zhao Yunlan laughed, aching a little at how badly he had wanted to be able to say something like Don't just stand there—we're all family now. They'd had a chance at that, when Shen Wei had agreed to work for the SID. But with everything that had happened since, Zhao Yunlan couldn't see either of them falling into that simple, easy companionship from before. He drew a breath, trying to shake off the uncharacteristic regret. "And you must be here for a reason?" A wedding reason.
Shen Wei glanced down at his briefcase. "Yes," he said.
Zhao Yunlan motioned him into the festive office with its confetti drifts and lollipop garlands. Not three seconds later, all the lights cut out. The music died. Zhao Yunlan reached for his Dixing gun—but of course he wasn't wearing it to his own party.
Someone giggled. A bright light flashed up, and their little-used projector screen came whirring down.
The adrenaline ebbed, and Zhao Yunlan groaned. "Guys. No. Don't tell me you—"
Da Qing popped up out of nowhere, and dragged Zhao Yunlan to the sofa, forcing him to sit before plopping down next to him with a huge grin. Zhao Yunlan was relieved Shen Wei followed to sit stiffly on a chair rather than make his escape. That relief didn't last long, because Lin Jing exclaimed "It's slideshow time!" with far too much enthusiasm, and tapped his keyboard.
Mercifully what popped up on the screen wasn't Zhao Yunlan's baby picture. But it was his university registration headshot, and that was almost as bad.
"Behold," Lin Jing continued. "The rose without its thorns!" He tapped a key, changing the image.
Lao Chu's snort cut across a chorus of tittering giggles.
Zhao Yunlan groaned into his palms, to more giggling, and avoided looking in Shen Wei's direction, or thinking about Shen Wei, or Shen Wei seeing—Oh, no. That was from the whole pole dancing thing, and—"Where the fuck did you get that picture?" he hollered, half amused at the memories, half outraged at the fact that one of his so-called friends must have sold him out.
"I have my sources," Lin Jing gloated, and treated everyone to a candid shot of Zhao Yunlan, age twenty, asleep in a chair with his head lolled back. Someone was holding a dried fish snack between his parted lips.
"Damn Cat," Zhao Yunlan growled, which just made Da Qing's grin widen. "Is this a party or a roast?"
Da Qing spread his hands. "It's a celebration of all things Zhao Yunlan, of course!"
Either Lin Jing had been keeping some kind of blackmail stash somewhere, or anyone who had ever known Zhao Yunlan had somehow been persuaded to hand over incriminating shots of him in the days since the wedding thing was decided on, because there were more pictures.
So many more pictures.
"You are all fired," Zhao Yunlan muttered into a beer Da Qing had handed him as they watched a video compilation of Zhao Yunlan's Dance Party Moves.
The government should ban smartphones. Shut down the internet. Really, it would solve the whole issue with keeping Dixing secret, and also traitorous cats and other friends wouldn't be able to share any more pictures. If there were any pictures left to share. Who took that many photos of a random drinking contest?
Da Qing snuggled up next to him, all bony angles. "You have to file paperwork if you want to fire us."
"I will," Zhao Yunlan said darkly.
"He won't," Wang Zheng assured Sang Zan, who had jumped out of his chair in alarm, ready to pounce Lin Jing. She turned a sweet smile on her beau, and he obediently sat back down. "He doesn't even know where to get the employment termination forms."
Wang Zheng wasn't wrong. And Zhao Yunlan lost some of his urge to find out when he saw the last few pictures. There he was at his academy graduation—it was a candid shot of him grinning with a few of his classmates, his uniform on and the less flattering hat off, his hair just the right kind of tousled, his mustache and beard impeccable. And he was beaming. It was impossible to miss how excited he had been that day—how happy.
There were more like it: a ceremony where he and a few others received a medal from the city, though they'd all just been doing their jobs. A picture with him kneeling next to a smiling little girl—he remembered her walking up to him and very seriously reporting her cat missing. With Da Qing's help he'd been able to return it, and it turned into just the kind of ridiculous thing the local newspaper loved to pad their issues with on slow news days.
And then last year's New Year's dinner—he remembered them all piling in front of a camera precariously balanced on top of a lamp. But looking at the photo now it seemed strangely empty, missing Xiao Guo and Sang Zan. And Shen Wei.
The lights came back up to applause, and Zhao Yunlan blinked and smiled, trying to get his bearings. He'd only just recruited Shen Wei, and just as a consultant, and yet in that photo—why did he feel as if Shen Wei ought to have been in it? With everyone staring at him, he had to say a few words—they were a good team, they deserved thanks, and threats that drew more laughs, and then he poured baijiu for everyone and set off a round of toasts.
Finally he distracted them by betting Lao Chu could beat Zhu Hong in a staring competition. With Lao Chu's stubbornness, Zhu Hong's snake powers, and everyone's state of mild indebriatation, it was going to be a while until he lost that bet. No longer the center of attention, he could finally go over to Shen Wei, who was still sitting in his chair, holding his briefcase and the beer.
"Sorry about that," he said in a low voice, trying not to wince. There had been some photos that would definitely have made Shen Wei feel he'd dodged a bullet, getting away from Zhao Yunlan.
Shen Wei blinked at him—and okay, that was more diplomatic than either offense or laughter would have been, but it made his eyes look so—"Let's go to my office," he added hastily, and walked off, trusting Shen Wei to follow.
It was a bit of a relief to sit down behind his desk. It was solid, and took up space, and when Shen Wei sat on the other side of it things felt almost like business as usual.
Shen Wei carefully put his briefcase down on the desk between them. Then, even more carefully, he set the beer bottle down.
Wait. If that was the same beer bottle as before—"Have you been drinking?"
Shen Wei shook his head. The tips of his ears glowed pink. "Just toasting," he said, and looked up at Zhao Yunlan with a solemn expression. "It seemed rude not to."
Oh, shit. The only time Zhao Yunlan had seen Shen Wei drink alcohol he had blacked out, so jumping to his feet in alarm seemed justified. "Shen Wei. Are you okay? Do you need me to call you a cab?"
"Yes, I'm fine." Shen Wei's brow furrowed, and he answered slowly, looking up at Zhao Yunlan. "Why would you call a cab?"
"Because if you've been drinking you shouldn't—" be alone, Zhao Yunlan almost said. Inhaled sharply, and sat down. "You shouldn't make your own way home, in case you start feeling bad."
"I don't—" Shen Wei broke off with a wobbly headshake. "I don't drink," he said instead, with completely uncharacteristic petulance in his voice.
Zhao Yunlan stared at him, and Shen Wei stared back. Shen Wei hadn't collapsed yet, so that was a good sign. But he was definitely flushed—Zhao Yunlan saw the color in his cheeks now, too, and couldn't stop himself thinking about where it would be spreading down his neck, maybe all the way to his chest—
Zhao Yunlan tore his gaze away, swallowing, trying to find something else to look at that wasn't Shen Wei's stunning face or beautiful hands or gorgeous body. "Fine, okay. You don't drink, you just toast—whatever. I won't call a cab," he babbled. It was entirely unfair that he couldn't stare his fill, now that he knew what Shen Wei kept hidden under his coat and sweater vest, but—his gaze landed on the briefcase. Yes. But business. That's why Shen Wei was here, after all.
"So. What did you want to talk about?" There. Back on track like nothing had happened. Well done, him.
"Oh." Shen Wei's own gaze was drawn to the briefcase. Zhao Yunlan noticed his flush growing more pronounced. "I have—I brought. That is. You left the photos."
"Oh," Zhao Yunlan echoed, and it was like an early hangover had descended all at once. His stomach churned, and his skull felt too tight around his brain.
"I thought…" Shen Wei looked up at Zhao Yunlan, who had no idea what Shen Wei had been thinking, but noted that Shen Wei's eyes were very dark right now.
Because of the beer. He'd had alcohol and now Shen Wei's pupils were expanding and it had nothing to do with anything else, Zhao Yunlan told himself sternly as his mouth went dry. Right now Shen Wei was looking less like an Envoy or professor and more like the passionate, eager lover Zhao Yunlan had spent that night in bed with, and it made it very, very difficult to focus.
Shen Wei hadn't moved. Zhao Yunlan didn't want to move, but he nudged the briefcase closer to Shen Wei. "They're in there?"
Nodding, Shen Wei pulled it into his lap. He wasn't fumbling with the clasp, but he was taking longer than he would have done sober. And when he was done, he didn't seem to know how to balance the satchel in his lap, and keep it open, and get the photographs out all at the same time.
"It's okay," Zhao Yunlan said quickly. "You don't have to—I mean, I don't need them, so if you want to…" Want to what? Keep them? Was Zhao Yunlan really offering Shen Wei paparazzi photos of their first kiss as his bachelor party favor? He squared his shoulders and stifled a groan. "You can just throw them away when you get home, so you don't have to—"
Shen Wei whipped the photos out, and put them down on the table a little too forcefully. They both jumped at the noise, and the glossy pictures scattered, shuffling one across the other like cards from a magician's hands.
Everywhere Zhao Yunlan looked now he saw—them. And he'd been looking at so many pictures of himself that the contrast between those old photos and these was as clear and sharp as a glass razor. His own smile in Cong Bo's photos, the way he was looking at Shen Wei—it wasn't an expression he recognized in himself.
And meanwhile Shen Wei—Shen Wei across from him was shoving at the photos, trying to push them together into a pile, but Shen Wei in the pictures? Shen Wei in the pictures did not look like a man with regrets. Did not look like he was making a mistake, unless it was a mistake he had been waiting all of his life to make.
Slowly, hardly aware of what he was doing, Zhao Yunlan plucked a photo from the table. Held it up, and saw that it didn't change. What he remembered—it was right there, in the picture. His hand trembled.
On the other side of the photo, Shen Wei had stilled. "I apologize," he said quietly.
"For what?" Zhao Yunlan's words came out a whisper. He lowered the photo.
Shen Wei was looking flushed and flustered and stunning. "For...the mess," he said, gaze lowered, making a small gesture at them kissing in little rectangles all over Zhao Yunlan's desk.
"Shen Wei," Zhao Yunlan said, unable to stand it any longer. "That—" Zhao Yunlan's own gesture wasn't at the physical photographs, but at them. "That wasn't anything I regret." It seemed important to say it out loud.
In the burning silence between them, Shen Wei's quick breath was quite audible. "Zhao Yunlan. You—it wasn't—I shouldn't have—"
"If you didn't want to, then I'm the one who should apologize," Zhao Yunlan said, his hungover feeling increasing exponentially. Had he really misjudged everything so badly, from Shen Wei's reaction to what he thought he saw in the photographs?
Shen Wei shook his head in fierce denial, as his fingers moved to rest against his shirt over the base of his throat. "No. Zhao Yunlan. I wanted to, I want to—"
"What?" It was a gasp of a word. Zhao Yunlan was glad he was sitting down, because his legs went wobbly in a way that usually took a lot more than just beer.
Shen Wei's gaze slid away. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't—I shouldn't say it. It's not—" He sucked in a breath. "I have reason to believe I may not be entirely sober. And—and you shouldn't listen to me."
"Hei Lao-ge…" Zhao Yunlan laughed unsteadily. "You are definitely not entirely sober, and you shouldn't listen to me either. But I swear if I don't get to hear the rest of what you don't think you should say, I am absolutely going to lose my mind."
"Zhao Yunlan!" Shen Wei sat up too quickly. Tipped forward and caught himself with both palms on the desk. "You mustn't!"
"Whoa, no, take it easy—" Zhao Yunlan put his hands up in a calming gesture, but Shen Wei had fixed him with a stare of burning intensity.
"I will tell you. So your mind will be safe."
"Okay, no, Shen Wei? Shen Wei, listen to me—that was just an expression, okay? I'll be fine no matter what you do, I promise." It was pretty much the truth. Zhao Yunlan wouldn't truly lose his mind. He might never sleep again for mulling Shen Wei's words over if they were all he got, but—
"Yes. You'll be fine. You'll have a wife, and you'll be fine—but before I knew, I—I wanted you. All of you. That's. That's what I shouldn't have—shouldn't have wanted, when you were—you're going to be—"
"Oh," Zhao Yunlan said. "No, that's—I'm glad." Shen Wei's honesty now was more than he deserved, and he smiled. "Thanks."
"Glad?" Shen Wei blinked. "Thanks?"
"Yeah." Zhao Yunlan had to struggle to make his throat work. "For telling me. Because—I thought you were upset that you’d risked your reputation…"
The incredulity in Shen Wei's face was so comical Zhao Yunlan had to keep from laughing, not wanting to upset him. "My—reputation?"
"Yeah. You know. You're Hei Pao Daren, and I'm—" Zhao Yunlan made a face as he indicated himself. "You saw the slide show," he added, because really.
"I did," Shen Wei said with some heat.
"So—"
"I do not regret it, Zhao Yunlan." Shen Wei spoke with such fierce conviction it cut through his drunken muzziness, and Zhao Yunlan's heart seized. No regret. Shen Wei had been with him, and had no regrets. "Even if it was but a temporary diversion for you, I don't—"
"It wasn't," Zhao Yunlan blurted. "Not with you, that's not what I want." His brain caught up with what he'd said—what Shen Wei had said before, too. He nearly choked on a bitter laugh. "What I wanted, I mean."
Shen Wei looked at him, eyes impossibly wide behind the glasses he couldn't possibly need, lips parted. Zhao Yunlan wanted to kiss him so bad the absence of Shen Wei's mouth on his was like the absence of air. His lungs ached.
"Zhao Yunlan," Shen Wei said, his voice wavering. "What do you mean?"
Zhao Yunlan looked down at the photograph he was holding. In it, he was caressing Shen Wei's jaw with one hand and clinging to his neck with the other. They were both smiling, sharing a breath, drinking each other up. He forced himself to meet Shen Wei's gaze as he said, "I'm saying I liked kissing you."
The stunned expression in Shen Wei's face was unlike anything Zhao Yunlan had seen before—not when he revealed Shen Wei's identity, not when he touched his face for the first time. Completely out of place for a statement that should really not have been a revelation, not after the rest of that night. But with the last couple of days between them, Zhao Yunlan understood. "You…" Shen Wei began.
"I liked it a lot," Zhao Yunlan confirmed. "And I would like to do it more. A lot more. But—"
Shen Wei's hands curled into fists, accidentally crumpling a few of the photographs under his palms as if they had been withered leaves. "Oh. No. You can't," he said, sitting rigidly in the chair.
"I could." Zhao Yunlan said, because he didn't want anything more to remain unsaid between them. Even if it was already too late now, he could at least do that.
"You can't." The words came out short and clipped—crisp, but it took Shen Wei a clear effort to make them such.
"The wedding?" Zhao Yunlan had guessed that it might matter more to Dixing than it did to the likes of Zhao Xinci. And Shen Wei's first duty had always been to his people.
"And everything you have. Had. Will have. Everything with—with perfectly your type. Can't take that from you..."
Zhao Yunlan blinked. Shen Wei was slipping—his words were losing the clear diction he'd been so carefully applying. They also made no sense. "What are you talking about?"
Shen Wei shook his head, and then tilted forward, pressing the knuckles of one hand against his forehead.
Zhao Yunlan stood, distracted enough to file away whatever the hell that statement had been for later. "Shen Wei? Are you starting to feel sick?"
"No," Shen Wei said, but he was now bracing himself against the desk on an arm that wasn't entirely steady.
Zhao Yunlan rounded his desk, and reached out to gently grip Shen Wei's shoulder. Such a simple motion, and he had to fight through such a morass of mingled emotions for it—but he wanted the contact, and thought Shen Wei might want it too, and it wasn't overstepping any of the boundaries drawn up between them.
"Shen Wei. You're shivering!" Zhao Yunlan hauled his phone out of his pocket.
"'m fine," Shen Wei mumbled.
With a sigh at Shen Wei's intransigence, Zhao Yunlan opened the taxi app and ordered a ride. He hadn't had that much to drink himself, but he didn't like the idea of taking his eyes off Shen Wei, who was not doing well with the whole metabolizing alcohol thing. "Okay," he said, "Well, if you're fine you can walk with me to the front door, right?"
"The party's over?" The question sounded so forlorn that Zhao Yunlan had the most ridiculous urge to press a reassuring kiss to the top of Shen Wei's head. Instead he squeezed his shoulder.
"Yeah. Party's over. Come on, let's go."
The darkness came for him more slowly after the beer than when Shen Wei had gulped down the bowl of—whatever horrid brew Zhao Yunlan's Lang-ge had served up in the mountains. But it did come. Fuzzing the edges of his vision, clouding his thoughts. The world became unsteady and uncertain, the one fixed point in it Zhao Yunlan's hand on his shoulder.
People laughing. Air laden with the scent of rich food drifting out into the night. Then a car, and all the lights of the city falling on him, one after the other—red, blue, green. White and orange—imitation day doing nothing to drive away the darkness that enveloped Shen Wei.
And through it all, Zhao Yunlan's voice. Zhao Yunlan's hand. Zhao Yunlan's shoulder.
Shen Wei tried to suppress the waves of longing and want. Having Zhao Yunlan near was the only thing that had ever made him feel less lonely, and that—that didn't matter. Loneliness was not—bad. Loneliness was not war and starvation where brother fought brother and men killed for scraps.
That had been bad. This was—better.
In war, people sought what comfort they could. Broken people from broken families, orphans and survivors all with their own loneliness and longing. Making things better, even when they couldn't be good.
To Shen Wei, Kunlun had been impossibly good. The way he looked at Shen Wei, and talked with Shen Wei, and cared about Shen Wei. And Shen Wei had known he couldn't be everything Kunlun needed. Had seen it in the way those lively eyes would turn distant and that brilliant smile dimmed enough to make it seem sad. But he had tried. He had hoped that what he could offer was enough to make things better for Kunlun, even when they couldn't be as good as what he missed.
Who he missed.
Whoever they were, Kunlun must have left a part his own heart's fire with them. Shen Wei hadn't thought to wonder about who kept that spark of Kunlun's burning—there was no point in it, not during the war.
But when Shen Wei had met Kunlun again—he had wondered at finding that Zhao Yunlan's file mentioned no spouse. Had been even more confounded to learn from Zhao Yunlan himself that there was nobody special—would have thought it some sort of dissembling, if not for the fact that Zhao Yunlan was always wholly there in a way Kunlun had not been, without anyone to draw his gaze ten thousand years through time.
Well. Now he had his explanation for that. Knew that Zhao Yunlan would meet her tomorrow. Today? The one who would get to hold Zhao Yunlan's heart. Who would eclipse the smile he'd had for Shen Wei. Who would—
"—please," Zhao Yunlan's voice was saying, and Shen Wei struggled free of darkness and memories to attend to him.
Zhao Yunlan wanted him to walk, so Shen Wei walked. Then he was drinking water and sitting down, and his pulse spiked as Zhao Yunlan knelt in front of him—and then confusion made him blink. Why was Zhao Yunlan taking his shoes off? And why could Shen Wei not keep sitting upright?
Shen Wei found himself wrapped in something soft and warm, as the lights dimmed, and his thoughts melted into each other, mingling with memories of days and eons past. Zhao Yunlan. Kunlun.
"I knew," Shen Wei mumbled to the Zhao Yunlan that had been asking him to explain, before.
"Hush, it's okay. You don't need to say anything." Zhao Yunlan's voice made Shen Wei's skin prickle with remembered caresses.
"No. I knew. Before. And I wanted—even though I knew you had someone…will have someone..." Words were coming thick and slow, like syrup, and then they got clogged up and stopped. No. Shen Wei wanted to explain. About—who Zhao Yunlan was about to meet. How good she would be for him, but—
"Just rest now, okay?" Zhao Yunlan sounded strange as that heavy darkness finally settled fully on Shen Wei, muffling all thoughts and sensations. "You need to sleep this off."
Cocooned in an increasing absence of sensory impressions, Shen Wei couldn't be sure if he did feel a light touch on his head or not. If he really heard Zhao Yunlan say, as he fell into sleep, "There's no one but you."
Sleep did not go well for Zhao Yunlan. Shen Wei was tucked safely in his own bed, and Zhao Yunlan knew from experience that he would be fine. Of course he would. It'd take more than a little beer to keep Hei Pao Shi down for long.
But that didn't stop the desire to go back to Shen Wei. To be with Shen Wei. The urge was was like chain looped through Zhao Yunlan's ribs—a constant, aching pull to be resisted as best he could. His presence had done nothing but agitate Shen Wei, and with both of them various degrees of drunk it wasn't like he could slip into bed with him, even just to hold him. No regrets, Shen Wei had said, but then he hadn't been able to stop saying he was sorry about...whatever that had been. The things he had been saying—Zhao Yunlan couldn't make sense of them. Either he'd had more to drink himself than he'd realized, or Shen Wei was entirely incoherent and talking to someone else, or—what?
There was something with the past and the future. With the tenses Shen Wei had used when he spoke tonight—with the things he had said before. So while Zhao Yunlan's body was throbbing with the urge to wrap itself around Shen Wei, his mind was grasping for meaning, bits of mumbled apologies and remembered conversations coming to him like fiery needles poked through his skull. None of them fit with anything he knew, and trying to hold on to them and force them into any kind of order was frustratingly close to futile. But Zhao Yunlan hadn't given up before, when he knew he could figure Shen Wei out—and had, with a bit of dramatic flair to get Shen Wei to come clean.
Now, though? There was no time. There was nothing but the memories flashing in front of him every time he closed his eyes against his dark and empty apartment—of Shen Wei, with the way his dad had ordered him to just do his job and get married already, with everything he didn't know about what was to come. With the fact that this was the first night he'd spent in this bed since he'd had Shen Wei in it, and—a final, excruciating distraction—it still smelled of them.
Sure as he was that he would get no sleep, Zhao Yunlan must have dozed off. From one moment to the next he was stirring awake to whiskers tickling his face, and a furry body burrowed into the covers next to him—and then he opened his gritty eyes and saw that it was light.
Okay. Time to go get married for the good of Haixing.
When he got to the SID, his team had things covered. The flower tribe were onboard. The Parks Bureau was going to make sure they were undisturbed after nightfall. The weather looked chilly, but the forecast promised the cloud cover would break later in the day, so they might even have actual moonlight at the ceremony.
Lin Jing was still going to set up a full lighting rig, because Dixingren might do fine in the dimness, but if Zhao Yunlan had to make do with moonlight he'd definitely trip over the hem of the robes the Xingdu Bureau had sent over for him to wear. That, and Cong Bo would get better footage if he could see what he was filming.
Someone from Dixing would be officiating—Zhao Xinci had grudgingly admitted that they were very good at the 'traditional bit', and that he expected his own presence there to be purely ceremonial.
It struck Zhao Yunlan as funny his dad would say that, because wasn't his own presence there purely ceremonial too? He was pretty sure that's what he'd been told when he agreed to the whole marriage thing, but apparently there were nuances to the concept he wasn't cultured enough to get.
With everything that needed to happen, Zhao Yunlan shouldn't have had time to worry about Shen Wei. But of course he worried about Shen Wei. He'd sent Da Qing over in the morning—a compromise between leaving Shen Wei be and intruding on his privacy—but the cat had reported that Shen Wei was gone. So at least he wasn't passed out in bed, or nursing a hangover to match last night's drunkenness. Still. Zhao Yunlan wished that they could have had another chance to talk, before—before everything.
He had so many questions.
When Da Qing shook him out of another contemplation of what answers Shen Wei might possibly give, Zhao Yunlan was almost grateful. Da Qing narrowed his eyes at him. "Lao Zhao. Why didn't you tell me about you and Professor Shen?"
Zhao Yunlan groaned. "Now's not the time, Damn Cat."
"You've been ordering me around like a dog all day, or there would have been time sooner!" Da Qing sniffed, and squeezed himself between Zhao Yunlan's body and the arm of the sofa. "Besides, if you didn't want me to ask you shouldn't have brought him home."
"He's our neighbor," Zhao Yunlan felt compelled to point out. "He's been over before."
"Yeah, but he's never left the sheets smelling like—"
"Okay, okay, yes. I get it!" Zhao Yunlan shut Da Qing down and glanced around. Only Wang Zheng was still at her desk, the rest of his team out doing—whatever they were doing. Important wedding things, probably.
"So are you going to cheat on your wife with him?"
Outraged on principle, Zhao Yunlan went to swat Da Qing, who blocked him. "What the hell kind of question is that?"
"I thought this was going to be good for you," Da Qing said thoughtfully, as he pushed Zhao Yunlan's hand back down and snuggled up against his shoulder. "You know—you could play the wife card to get out of some of those drinking things you don't really like, and everyone would see you like a real adult and stuff."
"I am a real adult!"
Da Qing sighed. "But you really like Professor Shen. And he's not the kind of guy who'd be into married people."
Zhao Yunlan felt annoying emotions rising in his throat, prickling his eyeballs. "He's not."
"So what? You're not going to tell him? You're just going to leave your wife in that hotel room Wang Zheng booked?" Da Qing looked pensive. "If I'd just come up from Dixing, I'd probably enjoy room service. If they had fish. But…"
"He knows," Zhao Yunlan snapped.
"What?" Da Qing twisted around, elbow digging uncomfortably into Zhao Yunlan's side. "How does he know?"
"Nevermind that."
"Wait. Did you break up with him?"
"Shut up," Zhao Yunlan said. There had been nothing to break up. Just a lot of—wanting more than they could get. And he wouldn't insult Shen Wei—Hei Pao Shi—by claiming none of the wedding stuff meant anything and they could just keep going as before.
"Oh. You did. You broke up with him. You slept with him and then you..." Da Qing flopped down over his lap, shifting into cat form to curl up in a bristly ball. "I don't think I like this wedding anymore," he mumbled.
Zhao Yunlan sighed. "That makes two of us."
"Chief Zhao?" Wang Zheng was hovering a little bit away, just far enough that she could politely pretend to have heard nothing.
"Yeah?"
"Sang Zan wondered if you could go up to the library when you have a moment?"
"Sure," Zhao Yunlan said, and shoved a protesting Da Qing off his lap. He suffered a few needle-point punctures in his thighs for it, but it was better than sitting around moping together.
Zhao Yunlan hadn't been back in the library for the past couple of days, and was surprised at how Sang Zan's piles had grown. He was even more surprised to see the whiteboard up there, covered with Sang Zan's awkward, angular characters—a few weeks ago Wang Zheng had still been teaching him how to hold a pencil properly. It turned out that Sang Zan had marked those quotes he found most relevant from the sources he'd gone through, and gathered them all in one place. "Okay. Wow." Zhao Yunlan smiled at Sang Zan. "This looks great. Tell me about it?"
"Ge Lan s-said...you don't like books?"
Zhao Yunlan rubbed the back of his head. "They're more—" Shen Wei's thing. The unspoken words were like gravel in Zhao Yunlan's throat. He tried smiling some more. "I mean—Yeah. She's right. So what have you found?"
Sang Zan's research was mostly to help Zhao Yunlan figure out if there was anything in the ceremony he should be aware of. True, his dad been to one already, and he trusted Shen Wei to mention if traditional Dixing weddings included, say, ceremonial bear wrestling. But—something everyone else took for granted could come up, something they didn't think to tell him, since he was just the groom and had agreed to everything already. So: research. Because he'd really prefer not to face down a bear unprepared. Or at all.
Lao Chu had been no help. "Didn't get invited to a lot of weddings," he'd said, and just given Zhao Yunlan a nonplussed look when asked about bears.
What Sang Zan had found seemed to be reassuringly staid and boring. There were references to swearing vows, and he already knew about the newlyweds pouring drinks for the witnesses, what with all the trouble they'd gone through securing some of the Snake Tribe's special baijiu. The only thing he hadn't heard anything about before was a brief note that stood out because Sang Zan had attached a photocopied illustration from some book next to it. Leaning forward, he studied the drawing carefully. "And this?"
"I th-think—it's a welcome? To say, 'We are family now'."
A good sentiment, that. Zhao Yunlan approved. He straightened, and found light streaming through the high windows. The afternoon sun must have broken through those clouds after all.
Afternoon.
Time to get ready.
Daylight fled too quickly, and soon Zhao Yunlan found himself in an ordinary Dragon City park transformed into something fantastical by the Flower Tribe.
It was very nearly overwhelming—even Zhao Yunlan was tempted to simply stop in his tracks and bask in what they had wrought. What would usually be a nice, crisp smell of rain on growing grass was currently mingled with the fragrance of a thousand blossoms, all exploding in an unexpected riot of colors. Some of them, like the delicate pink camellia and bright azaleas bursting from the bushes, were just unseasonal, but many of the others were entirely impossible—lotus flowers drifting dreamily in shallow puddles, orchids and lilies blooming wild, and some kind of star-shaped flower glowing pale silver with reflected moonlight.
Tall stands of whispering bamboo turned what had been a normal path into a secluded grove surrounding a decorative rock covered in cut peonies. The magical effect was slightly ruined by the fact that Lin Jing had rigged up strong electric floodlights rather than anything festive, but needs must. The Flower Tribe had done their best with that, too—Zhao Yunlan hadn't been present for it, but apparently Lin Jing had been stunned amusingly speechless when dainty vines suddenly coiled around his cables and equipment, turning them into a much more pleasant part of the scenery.
Cong Bo was ecstatic—Zhao Yunlan saw him ejecting an exhausted battery before shoving another one into his camera and rushing to take some close-up shots of the emerald moss that had covered the asphalt of the path, laying across it like a thick, green carpet.
"Given what a pain in the ass the Parks Bureau was about all this, I'm tempted to ask the Flower Tribe to leave it," Zhao Yunlan told Da Qing, trying to be flippant as he made his careful way on the soft surface. There had been silk slippers to go with the silk robe, and despite the fact that they hardly showed under the long hem, he had been absolutely forbidden by every single one of his insubordinate team to wear his boots instead.
"To be trampled?" Da Qing asked.
Zhao Yunlan sighed. "Yeah, no. You're right. That would be kind of rude, right?"
Da Qing nodded. "You should be good to Ying Chun-jie."
"Is she coming?"
"You mean is she staying?" Da Qing glanced at a blooming yellow bush near the bamboo, then gave Zhao Yunlan a thoughtful look. "No. They don't think this is any of their business."
"But you're here."
Da Qing fondly bumped a shoulder against him. "Of course," he said, and then pretended to be very busy studying the beautifully swaying clusters of narcissus. Or maybe he was just hoping to spot a mouse he could pounce.
As far as Zhao Yunlan could tell, now that he was here and the full moon was rising overhead, he didn't need to do anything before the bride arrived. Just stand there and wait on the Haixing side of the portal. Which would have been easier to do if any of them knew where it was. Lao Chu was off scaring the Parks staff on duty into deleting the pictures he'd caught them snapping on the sly, and nobody else could see the damn thing.
It was a minor thing to panic about, but he didn't really want to start panicking about the major things. So he was focused on not tripping over his long robes of red silk and asking Zhu Hong and Da Qing if they thought he was in the right spot when a hand closed over his shoulder.
Zhao Yunlan whirled around, and almost lost his balance as the slippers did their thing and slipped in the soft moss. Zhao Xinci gripped him hard and kept him upright, a strange expression on his face as he studied his flailing son.
"Over there," Zhao Xinci said on a sigh, letting Zhao Yunlan go. He was pointing to a spot a few steps away, near the peony-covered rock.
Zhao Yunlan didn't even ask how his dad could tell, just walked over there as Zhao Xinci called out after him, "And be careful not to tread on your robes."
"Yes, sir," Zhao Yunlan muttered with an eyeroll—like he hadn't figured that one out himself—and turned toward the rock.
"No, you're facing the wrong direction," Zhao Xinci admonished him. "Look over there."
Zhao Yunlan did as he was told. At the satisfied nod marking his successful placement, he glanced over his shoulder, and could see that everyone he had expected had arrived. Xiao Guo, Lin Jing, Cong Bo and Zhao Xinci made a delegation of four Haixingren. None of the Flower Tribe had stayed, but the SID had their own Snake and Cat representatives. And a bit further away, Lao Chu had returned from his mission of intimidation and was staring at the spot in front of Zhao Yunlan, seeing something hidden to Haixingren eyes.
For now, Chu Shuzhi was the only Dixingren. But soon—would Shen Wei come? Zhao Yunlan had assumed Hei Pao Shi would be at the wedding, but he hadn't had the opportunity to ask Shen Wei for details. Surely Shen Wei would have told Zhao Yunlan if he wasn't even going to come—but then again, it might be easiest for him that way. Easiest to just forget everything that had happened. Put it out of his mind as Zhao Yunlan couldn't, no matter how much he might wish he wanted to.
Unless—what if Shen Wei was supposed to be the one to bring the bride from Dixing? And if so, what if something about last night had held him up—or made him change his mind, change his plans for...something else? Zhao Yunlan felt a twinge of—nerves? Hope? Worry? All of those, maybe.
What if—
Zhao Yunlan felt his skin prickling, and Lao Chu snapped, "It's opening."
Zhao Yunlan saw nothing, but the bamboo grove around them rustled with a wind that smelled of dust and ozone, and then a figure clad in flowing black was stepping out of nowhere.
Shen Wei. Zhao Yunlan had to bite back his name. Curled his hands into fists at his sides and waited as Hei Pao Shi turned and helped steady a slight woman in silks as brilliantly red as Zhao Yunlan's with deft courtesy. He gave her just enough support that she could square her shoulders and draw a deep breath as she looked around, a shocked hand over her mouth, and then he withdrew to stand close by her side.
There was nobody at Zhao Yunlan's side.
Zhao Yunlan shook the thought off, and studied the air where the two had just emerged. It had gone from being an entirely unremarkable spot in this remarkable glade to shimmering faintly, as if with heat haze. As he was watching it he heard a popping, sucking noise, and the shimmering grew more pronounced—more like an oil slick on water now, a tangible other pulsing with dark iridescence rather than an illusory distortion.
It was the portal between Dixing and Haixing, and it was open. Waiting.
Around them the night was calm, the city noises and hum of Lin Jing's generator making the silence of the small assembled crowd seem very loud.
Zhao Xinci had never let silence bother him. "The Regent isn't coming?" he asked.
"I am here on Dixing's behalf," the Envoy said in somber response, and Zhao Yunlan wondered at how he could ever have heard anything but Shen Wei's melodious voice from under that mask. The mask that still showed those perfectly formed lips and—
Shit, no, wait. This was all wrong, he wasn't supposed to—Zhao Yunlan tore his gaze away, and looked at the person in red silk—at his bride, just as Shen Wei nudged her a step forward.
She wore no veil, so he could see how her eyes were darting everywhere, shining with wonder. She had a hand pressed to her chest, as if to calm a rapidly beating heart, and Zhao Yunlan felt more uncomfortable than he could say when he thought she might be looking at him. But following her gaze, he could tell that she was looking at everything else. The bright colors of the flowers in the floodlights, the tall bamboo, the moon above. Zhao Yunlan had never been to Dixing, but looking at this young woman he could imagine that it did not have a lot of greenery.
Maybe there was a point to the Flower Tribe's part in this ceremony, after all.
From what Zhao Yunlan had been told, the representative from Dixing would introduce the bride, and then Zhao Xinci would introduce the groom, and then they could get started. So what was Shen Wei waiting for? There was a hollow ache in Zhao Yunlan at being so close to Shen Wei. Nothing about this wedding was going to make that feeling go away, but maybe it would be easier to bear once they got it over with and Zhao Yunlan didn't have to look at him anymore—
With a breathtaking pang of fondness, Zhao Yunlan realized what had caused Shen Wei's silence. Not hesitation. Not that. It was kindness.
That same thoughtful, observant nature that made Shen Wei so beloved by his students meant he had noticed the young woman's reaction as she stepped out of the portal, and was giving her a moment to absorb all of the impressions of the surface world. Was waiting for her breathing to even out, and for her gaze to focus on the assembled Haixingren. Shen Wei didn't move until she self-consciously lowered her hands and shot him an anxious glance. Then he strode to stand between her and the assembled delegation, and announced in sonorous tones, "Esteemed friends from Haixing. May I present Hua Yuzhu, from Dixing."
Hua Yuzhu executed a lovely bow, and Zhao Yunlan resisted the urge to wipe his sweaty palms on his silk robes. Some of Sang Zan's notes had mentioned bowing. He hadn't exactly practiced, but he could do this.
"Esteemed friends from Dixing," Zhao Xinci said, and there was the oddest smile in his voice. "May I present Zhao Yunlan, from Haixing."
Zhao Yunlan bowed as if it was an everyday occurance for him, taking the moment to school his face into a smile so he could look at Hua Yuzhu without making her instantly regret her sacrifice for Dixing.
Shen Wei—no. Hei Pao Shi. It wouldn't be good to let the wrong name slip. Hei Pao Shi reached into his black robes and withdrew what Zhao Yunlan first took for a rock the size of his fist.
On closer inspection it didn't look like a rock at all. Maybe in texture, but when Hei Pao Shi raised his hand toward the moon it caught the light like a prism. It was a crystal—almost perfectly clear, though rough and uncut. And the light that shone through it fell straight on the shimmering nothing of the Dixing gate, where it was absorbed and disappeared.
"The Heart Stone will hear your vows," Hei Pao Shi declared, regarding Zhao Yunlan and Hua Yuzhu both without meeting Zhao Yunlan's gaze at all.
Zhao Yunlan's breath caught. Vows, already? No more ceremony? Just—straight to being married? He would have looked at his friends for some kind of acknowledgement that this was really moving very fast, but Hua Yuzhu shifted anxiously. Steadying himself, he shot her another smile. She returned it hesitantly, her own gaze flitting over Zhao Yunlan's shoulder to the people gathered there—all strangers to her, and she without anyone to support her except for a man her people all regarded with some combination of frightened awe.
Hei Pao Shi lowered the Heart Stone. It was giving off a faint radiance, glowing the same silver as those star-petaled flowers Zhao Yunlan had seen here for the first time. Prepared for this step, if not for how fast it had happened, or the particulars of holding a rock while doing it, Zhao Yunlan obediently reached out to receive it in his cupped hands.
It was cold to the touch, and sparkly, fizzing against his skin.
"Zhao Yunlan of Haixing," Hei Pao Shi said with such stiff formality that Zhao Yunlan could actually almost forget that it was Shen Wei behind that mask. Shen Wei, who had said his name in so many ways—but never like that. Never in a way that made him feel so cold. "Will you swear to bind yourself to one of Dixing, and live your life as a symbol of unity?"
Zhao Yunlan had to swallow to get the words out. "I swear." The stone flared with a golden glow and then dimmed, having warmed like a flashbulb in Zhao Yunlan's hands. What he could see of the Dixing portal behind the black robes pulsed with a bright indigo, as if in response.
Hei Pao Shi nodded. "And," he said, and then left a brief, unendurable pause that Zhao Yunlan felt like a cut to the bone. "And do you swear that you have no other in your heart?"
"What?"
Zhao Yunlan heard his own voice echoing in his ears, and knew he was interrupting things—could hear his dad muttering in exasperation. But—what? No. No, he was supposed to say unmarried or something like that. He'd had that whole conversation with his dad, he wasn't—what?
"Do you swear it?" Hei Pao Shi asked with a trace of urgency in his voice.
Do I have to? Zhao Yunlan wanted to say, but—of course he did. The moon was full, everyone was here, and they were on a time limit with the treaty thing.
"I swear," he said, managing to keep some of his reluctance out of his tone.
The stone did nothing. No flaring, no warming. The sensation from holding it was like pins and needles.
Hua Yuzhu gasped. She was not the only one.
"Zhao Yunlan?" And that was Shen Wei's voice, with a tiny bit of a wobble in it. "What…"
There was a pulse of darkness, and the portal to Dixing hanging in the air went from blurred smudge to hellish vortex. It was moving. Churning. A sound like a growl seemed to emanate from it, though Zhao Yunlan didn't know where it could possibly be coming from. Zhao Yunlan stared at the malfunctioning portal, trying to decide what the chances of an accidental hiccup were compared to, oh, someone lying to a stone at a ceremonial-only marriage that went for a lot more commitment than he was able to give.
A ceremony that was supposed to protect the treaty, which regulated the portal. Yeah. This was bad.
Zhao Yunlan was so focused that he didn't notice Hua Yuzhu close the distance between them before she had snatched the Heart Stone away. With a quick, apologetic look at Zhao Yunlan, she stared at the Envoy with terrified defiance, while the people behind them were starting to sound kind of sweary and panicky.
"Ask me too."
"Hua Yuzhu?" Hei Pao Shi's voice held steady when he said her name, Zhao Yunlan noticed.
"Ask me to swear it."
There was a pause, the dark eyes behind the mask taking her measure before speaking. "Do you swear that you have no other in your heart?" It sounded more like the Envoy was asking her if that was the right question, but Hua Yuzhu took the opportunity.
"If I could swear it, I would," she said, holding the rock in a white-knuckled grip. "For the treaty. I know it's important but—but I can't." She cast a frightened look at the portal behind her. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to be like this—I didn't know—"
"None of us did," Shen Wei said, with surprising gentleness. Then he held out his hand. "But please return the Heart Stone to me."
Hua Yuzhu gave it back, and Shen Wei held it in his hand as he turned toward what now looked like a hole torn into the fabric of reality, a swirling void growing wilder. He thrust the prism of the crystal at it, but it was catching no moonlight now, only clouding with dark indigo. He focused intently, the strain of what he was attempting visible in every tense line of his shoulders.
Zhao Yunlan made out a, "What the fuck is happening?" ladened with disbelief from Lin Jing, and everyone else sharing that sentiment with more or less dread. Xiao Guo was wailing.
Shen Wei had started trembling with the strain of trying to work against the portal—it loomed even larger now, though, and it hurt to look at its pounding light and undulating form. Shen Wei seemed to be holding firm, but then he went down hard on one knee, a gasp escaping between clenched teeth.
So that was not working.
It was like a nightmare—but one Zhao Yunlan knew how to wake up from. He just had to let himself believe. Let himself hope, and take the plunge.
Slowly, he walked toward Shen Wei across the spongy moss. Slowly, because it was like walking into a storm—his ridiculous silk robes fluttered behind him, and flower petals flew into his face. It felt like the portal was shoving at him, a negative gravity trying to force him away.
Zhao Yunlan wouldn't let it.
Wouldn't let anything keep him from getting to Shen Wei.
The wind had caught Shen Wei's black hood, pushing it down to reveal how pale his face was behind the mask, his teeth set as he clenched the Dixing crystal in one hand and tried to push himself to his feet with the other. Zhao Yunlan made it over to him and braced himself as well as he could in his useless slippers, reaching a hand out to Shen Wei. "Come on."
Shen Wei wrapped a strong hand around his wrist, and heaved himself to his feet. Zhao Yunlan reached out to steady him, and his hand felt a jolt like from a static shock when he accidentally touched the Heart Stone Shen Wei was still holding.
At once, they were in the eye of the storm. The portal stilled, as if in expectation. Everything was quiet, save for Xiao Guo's whimper.
"If you'll let me, I can swear it now," Zhao Yunlan said quietly.
Shen Wei's eyes were wide and shocked, and his mouth opened soundlessly before he said, "Zhao Yunlan?"
"That's what this rock could tell—that my heart is already yours."
Shen Wei was staring at him, mouth slightly open, eyelashes fanning his cheeks as he blinked in what looked like an attempt to process events happening too rapidly. "Your heart," he echoed numbly.
"I know it's not much, but will you take it?" Zhao Yunlan thought he might be smiling. It was rash, and wild, and it made more sense than anything else had in the past three days. His heart hammered in his chest as he waited, and waited, and waited.
Shen Wei gave a startled, desperate nod.
"Good!" Zhao Xinci's voice broke in between them. If it hadn't already been a day of the weirdest things that had ever happened to Zhao Yunlan, he'd have said it was the strangest thing he had ever seen: Zhao Xinci smiling in satisfaction, while everyone else in the glade were looking like living embodiments of what the fuck?!
Without waiting for their permission, Zhao Xinci stepped up and looked at them both. "You can hold the Heart Stone together," he said, and Zhao Yunlan was so stunned he didn't think to question it, only folded his hands over Shen Wei's around the warm stone. Then he got so confused he almost drew away, except that would mean letting go of Shen Wei, and he really didn't want to.
"I will now ask you the binding questions," Zhao Xinci said.
"You? Wait—shouldn't Lao Chu—I thought we needed a Dixingren to—"
Zhao Xinci beamed brightly at him. "Oh, we've got that covered."
"What—"
"Now," Zhao Xinci interrupted, sounding suddenly stern, at the same time as Shen Wei said, "Trust him."
"Okay," Zhao Yunlan said weakly, trying to shake off his confusion and focus on what mattered: the treaty. Shen Wei. Zhao Yunlan looked up, and found Shen Wei staring at him with a fearful kind of disbelief. Zhao Yunlan quirked his lips in a smile and squeezed his hands as Zhao Xinci started the question.
"Do you of Dixing and Haixing both swear to bind yourselves to each other, and live your lives as a symbol of unity?"
Their yes was perfectly synchronized, as if rehearsed. Zhao Yunlan blinked, his heart leaping into his throat—they were doing this. They were really doing this. And not unwillingly, not just for the treaty—in the golden glow that spread from between their overlapping hands, Zhao Yunlan could see stunned awe in Shen Wei's expression, and when their eyes met it was as if the spark between them burned some of the spreading void away.
"And do you swear that you have no other in your heart?" Zhao Xinci asked merrily.
"I swear," Zhao Yunlan said, as loud as he could.
Shen Wei made a choked gasp, and Zhao Yunlan felt his own throat tighten. "Hey," he whispered, rubbing a thumb over the back of Shen Wei's hand. "It's okay. Whatever you want, it's okay, we can—"
"I swear," Shen Wei said, his voice rough.
The night exploded into light. Not the weird dark light the portal had been tormenting them with before, but a joyful shower of bright sparks. They were accompanied by a series of loud cracks, and Zhao Yunlan thought that too was the portal until he heard Lin Jing's panicked screech, and noticed the electric lights had all died.
That warm golden glow from before shone from between their joined hands, making it difficult to see much of anything—and then it faded, pulled into the portal, which was shrinking visibly. It was like watching a flower blooming in reverse—the now-glittering void slowly folding back in on itself again and again, until nothing but a tiny soap bubble of a shimmer remained.
Then that too vanished without as much as a pop, leaving them standing in the pale moonlight.
Zhao Yunlan quickly looked over to check on his team, blinking the afterimages of the portal brightness away. Everyone was gaping at them. Lao Chu looked like he was having a stroke. Zhu Hong was blinking in disbelief. Da Qing was hissing in outraged confusion, managing to look bristly even as a human. Cong Bo was holding onto his camera for dear life.
"It's okay," Zhao Yunlan called to them, and got a range of bewildered and hostile exclamations in return.
"Hei Pao Shi?" Lao Chu wheezed.
Okay, yeah, so they'd need to explain what was going on. He drew a breath to do so—and a flash of lightning split the night.
"Stop!" The tall bamboo stalks quivered and cracked as an attacker drew near.
Shen Wei and Zhao Yunlan sprung apart. In an instant, Shen Wei had his glaive in hand, and Zhao Yunlan was hiking up his robes so he could move without tripping.
Miniature bolts of lighting crackled and sparked around the hands of a woman with multicolored hair striding through their grove, the SID scattering at the sight of her raw power. "Get your filthy hands off of her, you—"
"It's okay!" That was Hua Yuzhu, who Zhao Yunlan had completely forgotten about. She had been standing silently next to Zhao Xinci, but now she mirrored Zhao Yunlan, pulling her robes up to her knees so she could rush over, sounding tearful and short of breath.
Zhao Yunlan gestured sharply at Lao Chu to dispel his threads and stand down.
"Sha Ya, it's fine, it's okay," Hua Yuzhu was saying, and then she threw herself around the newcomer's neck.
The startled woman extinguished her lightning and returned the embrace with fierce passion. She only broke off to hold Hua Yuzhu at arm's length, studying her carefully. "You're fine? They didn't do anything—weird?" She glared at Zhao Yunlan over Hua Yuzhu's shoulder. Zhao Yunlan let her. It's what he would have done in her place, had their situations been reversed.
"Chief Zhao," Zhao Xinci snapped. "Have your people arrest these two."
Hua Yuzhu gasped, and Sha Ya pulled the smaller woman protectively behind her, raising her hands in what made a very efficient threat after they'd all seen her demonstrate her powers.
"Director Zhao," Shen Wei spoke, his voice quite calm for the moment. "Arrest them for what?"
"That woman's power—she is dangerous, and here illegally. And your choice of bride is clearly is no better," Zhao Xinci said shortly, all of his earlier good humor completely gone.
"I am afraid I will have to disagree," Shen Wei said. "These past few days, have you not yourself authorised paperwork for Hua Yuzhu and her spouse to live here in Haixing, with the Xingdu Bureau's blessing?"
"Yes, but—" Zhao Xinci spluttered.
"So Hua Yuzhu is here perfectly legally. And if her spouse is not who we anticipated—" Shen Wei's voice caught, and he had to clear his throat. "Well. I have seen this young woman do nothing but prepare to voice her objections to a ceremony that many would agree is quite—unorthodox."
"You can't be serious."
"Oh, we can," Zhao Yunlan spoke up, saving Shen Wei the trouble. "There's nothing here for the SID to do—Dixingren who live here with permission are none of our business unless they start causing harm. And I don't see any harm here. Do you?"
Lao Chu actually laughed at that, and Xiao Guo's sniffles were of a more joyful tenor. Cong Bo was watching the exchange with a rapt expression.
While Zhao Yunlan stared at his father, Shen Wei told Hua Yuzhu, "You are free to go, together. I will look you up in a few days to make sure you have funds, and all the paperwork Director Zhao might want. But you don't need to worry. Understood?"
Overwhelmed, Hua Yuzhu could just cling to Sha Ya's hand and nod.
Zhao Yunlan broke off the staring to grin at Shen Wei, who smiled back, bright enough to light up the night.
"So...we can go?" Sha Ya asked, looking between them and Zhao Xinci, holding on tight to Hua Yuzhu's hand.
To Zhao Yunlan's surprise, it was his dad who nodded and said, "Yes. Go, and be well."
Sha Ya shook her head in confused frustration, and then tugged at Hua Yuzhu. "Let's go before they change their minds," she whispered.
"Just a moment," Hua Yuzhu said. She turned to look straight at Zhao Yunlan, and bowed again. "I am so terribly sorry for the trouble, and for the deception. But I needed to see Sha Ya again, and this was the only way I knew how…"
"I get it." Zhao Yunlan grinned at her. "And you're free to stay, if you want to, but—"
"Thank you," Hua Yuzhu said again, and let Sha Ya drag her—starry-eyed and flushed—into the bamboo where they both disappeared.
With that, all was silent again.
Zhao Yunlan shifted, and the back of his hand brushed the back of Shen Wei's. They both startled. Zhao Yunlan laughed from sheer joy—they could touch. He looked at Shen Wei, and saw the wonder at that in the curve of his lips under the mask, and in the brightness of his eyes. And he remembered that they weren't quite done yet. The Heart Stone seemed happy enough, but those had been some damn short vows. And if Zhao Yunlan was going to marry Shen Wei on impulse to save the world, he was going to do it properly.
With all the excited energy Zhao Yunlan hadn't felt when presented as a ceremonial husband before, he took one step back so that he could bow deeply to Shen Wei, who made a sound of protest.
Zhao Yunlan straightened, and very carefully and deliberately pulled his fingers through his carefully styled hair, until he'd gotten it all out of his forehead. Shen Wei drew a startled breath. "Zhao Yunlan, what—"
"This is for you. Not for any damn rock. I'm—I think this was how it was done?" Zhao Yunlan stepped forward and caught both of Shen Wei's hands in his. Inclined his head, and waited.
"It's—it's usually the Haixing partner that—"
"Yeah," Zhao Yunlan said, still looking at the slippers peeking out from under the hem of his robes. Still grinning. "But we're going to change things together. So we might as well start here."
"Yunlan," Shen Wei said. Just that, and Zhao Yunlan's heart felt as tingly and warm as if there was a magic rock glowing inside of him.
Then Shen Wei leaned forward, and pressed his lips to Zhao Yunlan's forehead in welcome and benediction. "We're family now." Shen Wei whispered the words Sang Zan had written in his notes, and Zhao Yunlan's spine tingled with them.
"Family," Zhao Yunlan agreed, his own voice so rough he had to laugh. He straightened, and stared at Shen Wei, looking at his eyes behind the mask, drinking in every aspect of what he could see there. Placed a hand on Shen Wei's cheek, over skin and mask both, echoing that touch that had first gotten Shen Wei to fall into his arms.
Shen Wei's eyes fluttered shut, and he shivered.
"Husband," Zhao Yunlan said the word with all the heat and tenderness he had been forcing himself to hold back until now. "May I kiss you?"
Wordlessly, Shen Wei nodded. Then put a hand up, stopping Zhao Yunlan as he was leaning in.
Zhao Yunlan's heart skipped a beat in reflexive fear of rejection, but what he saw in Shen Wei's eyes made him trust that it was only a temporary thing. Shen Wei was not pushing him away.
He was right. Shen Wei took off his mask and smiled, and pulled Zhao Yunlan close.
The world slowed for him, immersing him in the moment between one hammering beat of his heart and the next. Everything was washed in the bright light of a single flash of of Cong Bo's camera, multicolored petals still suspended in the air around them—Shen Wei astoundingly beautiful in his joy, the SID displaying a range of astonished delight, and his dad off to one side, beaming.
Standing there in the wake of the calamity they had averted together, feeling the warmth of Shen Wei's arms around him, Zhao Yunlan could see this moment resonating into his future—into all of their futures. The pictures Cong Bo captured would help them win people's hearts when the truth about Dixing went public, showing that true unity was possible. And then later, when things had settled, Zhao Yunlan would have his favorite shot enlarged and framed, and hung in a place of honor in the house they would live in together—and it would make Shen Wei blush, to hear Zhao Yunlan gush about how gorgeous his husband had been on their wedding day, but he would never ask for the picture to be taken down.
Then time righted itself, snapped into their shared present. The light from that one flash faded, and more went off in quick succession. Zhao Yunlan was right there, and Shen Wei too. And with nothing more keeping them apart, and all of the future ahead, they kissed.