Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

When Zhang Shi came to, he was choking.

Once again occupied, Zhao Yunlan’s body thrashed, automatically responding to the intrusion of the ventilator, and hospital staff had to hold him down for it to be removed. The involuntary physical responses - flailing limbs, sharp pain, then shaking and nausea were indistinguishable from the wash of despair that flooded him and spilled over his son’s eyelids, wetting the rough sheets under his head. It was no relief, either, when they eventually subsided, leaving nothing to distract him from the life he’d have to walk out into once he left this hospital bed.

There were no visitors while he was awake.

The doctors kept him there for several days – Yunlan had been injured pretty badly before finally giving himself up. At one point Zhang Shi woke up to an IV change, a tray of terrible-looking food, and a gym bag under the side table, pointed out to him by a nurse who whispered, “Someone from work dropped some things off for you,” while looking at him a little oddly. The sideways glances were pitying, or possibly out of wariness, wondering why this person who had arrived surrounded by a chaotic crowd of highly emotional people had now been here for days since without anyone visiting long enough to stay and speak to him, or send flowers or even a card.

Dropped off with a dead battery and Yunlan's wallet, keys, a change of clothes, and luckily, a charger- Yunlan’s phone was plastered with alerts for new messages from Xinci, the university, and several others after being plugged in for a while. Once he thought he could stomach hearing his son’s voice in what now was his own head long enough to get a complete sentence out, he called DCU first, just to get it over with. The person on the other side already seemed to know there would be no good news, but he confirmed in a few gravelly breaths that Shen Wei had been killed that day along with so many other people. Condolences offered by the sniffling voice on the line twisted painfully in his gut. And he knew Yunlan would be expected to be upset, that he would have been feeling a similar anguish over losing that person – they had seemed to grow very close in the short time they’d known each other. So he didn’t bother to try to disguise his own grief.

All the local papers seemed to have called, and there were a few messages from grad students and other acquaintances frantic over the rumors they’d heard. There weren’t as many as he’d expected, but the news that Yunlan was also gone, in a different way, must have gotten around their inner circles quickly.

There was cash in the wallet, so when he was finally sent to stand out in the sunlight, forced to start putting one foot in front of the other, he took a cab to HQ after calling first to warn them. Later, he wouldn’t be able to remember whether he’d looked a single one of them in the eye the entire time. The air had been nearly impossible to breathe; he croaked out repeated apologies, attempting to explain without really being able to talk that their Chief had asked him to do this. To promise that he'd do this.
He didn’t think they’d believe he might do such a thing against Yunlan’s wishes, or even Xinci’s, but Chu Shuzhi’s glare was cold enough to feel without even looking fully in his direction.

They agreed to keep in contact without meeting any more than necessary once he found a place to live, got a handle on everything else he’d need to do to take over this life, and was able to truly play the role of the chief of the SID.

Da Qing wasn't there, but they promised to let him know he’d have the apartment to himself, and to let him know if he wanted to take over rent payments.

Zhang Shi left quickly and found a cheap hotel room on the outskirts of the city, collapsed into the musty bed and did his best to avoid consciousness as long as he could get away with.

Hazy awareness of the sun setting, rising, and dimming again suggested he’d been there for a couple of days before, eventually, forcing sleep became as hideously painful as being awake. So he dragged himself out of the building to try again – but facing what his life would have to become was still no more bearable than standing out in public watching the world flow around him with his son no longer in it, so he found a liquor store and drank himself back to sleep.

Severe stomach pain forced him awake some unknown number of hours later, and he realized he had to stop putting it off - he was overindulging his own selfishness, delaying what he’d promised to do, even if it was still torture. He wasn’t taking care of Yunlan’s body, and that was not acceptable. He thought of the look that he’d seen in Yunlan’s eyes before he’d left, what he had asked him for, and as serious as he’d been, Zhang Shi knew he had really hoped it wouldn’t be necessary – knew he hadn’t really expected Shen Wei or himself to die. Although at the moment it felt impossible, Zhang Shi refused to let himself fail at this promise, to do even more damage because of his own grief. So he tried to stop thinking about himself, about what had happened to Yunlan, tried to tune out the maddened, screaming void in his heart and just mechanically focus on fulfilling his responsibilities, showering, eating, finding a realtor and the quickest route to a room to rent.

He drifted through the city like a ghost - dead, dull detachment the only way he could continue to move forward. Eating and sleeping on something resembling a schedule eased the shaking in his limbs faster than he thought appropriate. Learning to stand up straight and make eye contact with the world again took a while longer.

He bought new clothes instead of further traumatizing Da Qing or himself by taking Yunlan’s things from his home to continue using them.

The bloodstains would never have washed out of the clothes his son had died in, but he hadn’t intended to ever wear them again anyway. So he folded them into a bag, boots and all, that ended up in the bottom drawer of his bedroom cabinet when he finally moved into a small apartment.
And then in the ground a few months later after Guo Changcheng, who'd been far more clear-headed, had organized a memorial for them.

When Zhang Shi comes to, he’s too weak to even attempt control over the person he’s found himself latched to. As his fuzzy consciousness fades in and out, he picks up on that the man lives alone in an apartment which, from the layout and trim, might be in the same building as his. He looks middle age when he catches a glimpse in a mirror, and must be retired – he doesn’t seem to work or go out much, spending a lot of time watching television or reading newspapers, or looking out the window, which confirms their location.

Zhang Shi is frantic to find the others and learn what happened to Yunlan - if he’s alive, if he’s okay. But he’s so weakened by whatever had happened when he was forcibly removed that his distress doesn’t even attract the man’s notice for a while. He sort of drifts, not coherent enough at first to know how much time has passed, but it has to have been at least a day before he begins to feel more alert. He doesn’t waste energy trying to listen to the man’s thoughts – he normally only hears things consciously directed at him, other thoughts being more like a distant hum in the background.

He does notice that this person lingers on news articles about Dixingren integration, which is possibly the most spectacular thing happening in the city these days. He can’t tell which direction the man’s biases may lean in- he hopes he won’t be too horrified once Zhang Shi is able to announce himself- he’s got to take over and find the others as soon as possible.

Once he’s got enough energy to try to communicate audibly, the man is startled, looking around the room, behind himself, over towards the door.

“I’m not out there – my voice is coming from inside your head. Don’t be alarmed, please- let me explain – "

He gets out in a rush that he’s not a ghost or demon or any of the other typical assumptions, but just an unusual Dixingren that can only live this way with no physical form of his own, who was involuntarily anchored here, with him. The man is surprisingly quiet while listening, doesn’t interrupt, and doesn’t seem nearly as upset as Zhang Shi is accustomed to seeing when he’s had to go through this with others. Xinci had not been the only one furious and unforgiving at being occupied against his will.

His willingness to listen allows Zhang Shi to quickly get around to summarizing his current situation and the need to find out what’s happened. This person, whose name he finally learns is Gao Yong, easily agrees to cooperate. He even offers to go immediately, though he will have to act as a conversational go-between if Zhang Shi can’t speak for himself yet. This is about as good a turn of events as he could have hoped for – Zhang Shi knows he’ll eventually feel relief at what good luck he’s had with this new person, once he’s able to find out what’s going on.

They go straight to the SID. Zhu Hong answers his knock, tense and twitchy. Gao Yong introduces himself awkwardly, telling her he’s got Zhang Shi with him, and that he says he needs to know what happened to Zhao Yunlan. She stares blankly for a few seconds, then silently walks him into the main room where they find Zhao Xinci, infinitely more tense, sitting so stiffly in a chair he could be hovering an inch above it. One of his hands is clenched around a dull metal flask.

“That’s his father, the one I had been living paired with before – his name is Zhao Xinci –”

“Ah - my name is Gao Yong – I ah, Zhang Shi ah, arrived,” he points at himself- “and started speaking to me earlier today.”

Xinci reacts, turning to face him directly, staring.

“He’s ah, he’s very worried, and wants to know what happened to Zhao Yunlan.”

Xinci narrows his eyes at him and asks, “What did I say to you at the end of his driver’s test?” Zhang Shi, wondering for a moment why he was surprised to be tested, laughs faintly and answers, “We’re going to regret this”. Gao Yong repeats it to Xinci, who seems to shudder a little, slowly sinking back into the chair and unscrewing the cap of the flask which rattles on its chain as he almost mechanically tips it back to drink.

Zhu Hong and Xinci look at each other briefly. Xinci hunches over, staring at the floor between his shoes, and Zhu Hong tells them, “Zhao Yunlan did make it back, and came straight here. He’s in bad shape, though – he’d showed up bleeding from some head wound, and he was - he was out of his mind over Shen Wei’s death. You knew already, about Shen Wei’s body reappearing last week, right? When he got here, he was, well - ”

Zhang Shi, who had just started to feel some tangible relief, has to swallow around the feeling of his heart sinking again. He’d been afraid to hope that Yunlan had made it back in one piece, but if he had been able to think past that, he’d also have known this might still be looming.

Zhu Hong continues, “He tried to use the Dial to bring him back, and didn’t care in the least about what that might to do him. He –”

She looks at the floor, breathing deeply, “he’d loved Shen Wei more than anything.”
Gao Yong waits for something to relay, but Zhang Shi stays silent, having no sufficient response.

“The Dial didn’t work, but he was a mess, and passed out. He only rested overnight and then took off with the others - they carried Shen Wei’s body off to Dixing to try to find another way to bring him back.”

There’s nothing to do but wait, now. Zhang Shi tries to tell Gao Yong he doesn’t need to wait there, and should just give them his phone number and ask them to call when there’s news, but the man says he doesn’t mind staying. Zhang Shi tunes them out a little when he hesitantly makes small talk with Zhu Hong, curious about the SID, knowing a little from what had been in the news over the past couple of years. Xinci sits unmoving, silent like Zhang Shi, giving no indication whether he’s listening to them or lost in his own head.

It gets late without any news, and Gao Yong finally goes home for the night. The next day he gets up early, insisting on bringing food for the others. He seems to be the type that cares about people but doesn’t know how to interact without a good reason to be in someone else's space. They thank him for the thoughtfulness, but barely get through a single mantou between the two of them.
They all sit there waiting while time crawls, and Gao Yong, who seems to be losing the ability to sit silently under the weight of their anxiety, says quietly, “It’s still good news that Zhao Yunlan is alive, though, right? I hope everything works out for the best.”
Zhang Shi doesn’t think he can really explain how it might not be that simple, and doesn’t respond.

Finally Zhu Hong’s phone buzzes- Chu Shuzhi’s voice is tinny over speakerphone, “We got Hei Pao Shi Daren back, but Lao Zhao used the Awl and he’s not doing well. We’re heading into the hospital right now.”

They’re already standing; Zhang Shi feels adrenaline buzzing and realizes he’s managed to take control of Gao Yong unintentionally.
Gao Yong interrupts him when he tries to apologize, urging, “It’s fine, you’re good. This is what we were waiting for - let’s go.”

Chapter Text

When Shen Wei wakes up, he feels life already draining from him in a warm gush that spreads over his chest, bubbling in his first breath. Almost as quickly, dark energy floods the source- knitting him back together while pain flashes inside him. He gasps, coughing wetly and blinking into a gray-green twilight, senses just beginning to parse which way is up. The noise rising around him resolves into panicked voices. Movement comes from hands pulling at wet fabric, turning him onto his side so he can clear his lungs, prodding lightly around the already healed stab wound.

Stab wound. That’s right, he’d been – oh, no.

Zhao Yunlan.

No, no -

Shen Wei hadn’t seen it, but he knows. He felt it happen.

Zhao Yunlan did something unthinkable with the Lantern.

His face materializes in Shen Wei’s memory, dripping with blood and tears, expression shattered with anguish.

Shen Wei had left him like that.

He’d had no choice, but – he’d hoped that he’d at least given him the chance to escape, to be safe. He’d thought he might have made it in time, to stop Ye Zun and also allow Zhao Yunlan to walk away whole. He’d smiled up at him from the floor. He’d thought -

Blurred shadows shift in his dim vision while horror washes through him, spilling from his eyes.

Zhao Yunlan is lost, burning, forever. No, no, no –

Shen Wei’s mind begins breaking apart in the face of it.

Despair leaks out of him in a keening whine, weaker than the scream it ought to be; strangled exhalations in the vague shape of Zhao Yunlan’s name spill from Shen Wei’s mouth alongside a steady trickle of blood.
His throat keeps closing around the words, and his lungs keep stubbornly pulling more air in. Zhao Yunlan – Yunlan, gone - gone, destroyed – never to have even a chance of another life where Shen Wei might have been able to find him again -

A dark shadow, someone, is bent over him and shaking his shoulder, speaking in a rush. He’s paralyzed, ears ringing, muted like in a nightmare, buried alive under hundreds of meters of earth. He can’t be here, not like this. Why is this happening?
They’re still jostling him- he doesn’t want help, doesn’t want to live.
He begs, forced out in a wheeze, “No – no, Zhao Yunlan –” can they hear him?

kill me – kill me, please –

Another clamoring voice further off drowns him out – an unhelpful, still functioning speck of his mind recognizes it as Da Qing.

He begs to be let go while he’s forced up to sitting, coughing around Yunlan’s name; in front of him the blurry profiles of Da Qing and another, Chu Shuzhi, lift someone up and partially flip them over.

It’s him.

Shen Wei tilts over immediately, upsetting objects that clink and rattle as they roll on the ground around him. He clamps a hand on the only thing he can reach – Zhao Yunlan’s knee. It’s Xiao Guo who has his arms under his shoulders, lifting, still making noise.

Shen Wei rasps, “Zhao Yunlan. Yunlan. The Lantern, where - ”

The others seem worried, but not nearly enough – not enough for something so tragic, not enough for this. Do they know yet what he’s done?
Shen Wei doesn’t see the Lantern, sees no sign of fire flickering anywhere around his body although oddly, the Awl is lying on the ground near their feet.
He hacks up another mouthful of blood and grits out around the coppery liquid leaking through his teeth, “Lantern – the Lantern –“

He’ll find a way to join him, burn himself into oblivion as well, if that’s the choice he has left.

Xiao Guo squeezes his shoulders inordinately hard, fingers digging in, his incessant noise finally making it through the soul-rendering howl reverberating in Shen Wei’s head.

“He’s not gone -he’s alive! He’s alive, Professor Shen. He came back before you. He came back - we got him out of the Lantern.”

Shen Wei’s heart seems to freeze, his head swimming while those words ring, incomprehensible.

He - ?

That can’t be possible.

He can’t let himself believe it – got him out?

He tries to focus on Zhao Yunlan’s downturned face, hidden behind the long shock of his hair as Chu Shuzhi shifts his body into position to be picked up. Shen Wei shudders in directionless horror. He knows Zhao Yunlan had done it - he’d willingly given up more than just his life to light the Lantern. And yet they’re saying - somehow - he’s here? alive? If he - How could he possibly come back?

How could either of them be alive?

Shen Wei should also be dead. He’d made a choice that left him absolutely no chance for survival. And if Zhao Yunlan gave himself to the Lantern, there is no coming back from that. No eventual reunion. No happy ending.
None of this should be possible.

Is this drawn-out moment just some kind of vivid delusion that happens to the dead, driven mad from despair?

Chu Shuzhi is staring steadily at him while he reels, as if to try to help him focus, looking as if he knows everything screaming its way through Shen Wei’s thoughts. He speaks when their eyes meet and hold -

“Lao Zhao is alive, but we need to get him to a Haixing hospital.
You were dead. He did light the Lantern, but he didn’t disappear in it. My brother eventually took his place, and he was able to come back into his own body again.
But - he used the Awl to try bring you back just now, and it did something serious to him. He’s breathing, but just barely. Can you walk?”

Xiao Guo helps him stand; an unfamiliar landscape fills his vision. Overwhelmed with this explanation of the current circumstances, Shen Wei’s thoughts dissolve into white noise. He can’t bring himself to simply believe what they’re saying.
He steps closer while Chu Shuzhi seems to be waiting for his word to take off, and reaches out to put a hand on Zhao Yunlan’s back.
It’s warm.
He slides it up to his shoulder, searching – but there’s no wound to heal. His heart is still beating, sluggish under Shen Wei’s hand, and his energy is there, though it feels thin. He is alive, at least- but hurt, and Shen Wei can’t help.

The dread choking him shifts its focus, and he stalls just long enough to feel the throb of Zhao Yunlan’s pulse under his fingers at the ridge of his jaw, before he nods at Chu Shuzhi, glancing around quickly at the others.
He croaks, “Get closer – I can get us most of the way there.” He doesn’t wait for a response, reaching out more easily than he’d been able to for a long time to swathe the entire group in dark energy, to pull in and away.

It’s only as the dark spreads around him that a flicker of light catches his eye, and he turns enough to see the Lantern burning brightly behind them, next to his own weapon on a covered platform. His heart jumps painfully – if he’d looked in the other direction sooner, he could easily have taken it and ended things without delay - but Zhao Yunlan might still be alive, somehow. He might still be here. They said he’d been removed from the Lantern. Shen Wei will have to wait.

They rush into the emergency room from a secluded back alley and hospital staff immediately descend on him as well as Zhao Yunlan – he’d forgotten that he’s completely drenched in blood. He nearly has to push them away as they swarm, begging them to ignore him and focus on the other.

Questions come rapid-fire, but the truth is so convoluted that in trying to communicate to the nurses what had happened, they can only explain that Zhao Yunlan was exposed to an absurd amount of some poorly understood energy, which he’s reacted badly to, before.

Rightfully concerned hospital staff persist in trying to wrangle Shen Wei as Zhao Yunlan is carted off on a gurney into a restricted area and a door closes between them. He doesn’t have the mental capacity to make excuses or even consider the consequences of telling the truth, and so just continues to insist that there’s no injury to treat. Someone presses a plastic bag into his hands – a shirt from the hospital’s gift shop.
He holds it up like a shield, retreating into the nearest bathroom to change.
Hands shaking under aggressively bright fluorescent lights, he hurriedly washes, scrubbing streaks of red with cheap paper towels, tossing wads of them with his sodden shirt and vest in the trash. When he returns, much less bloody, the hospital staff finally relent - and the entire crowd is directed to a waiting area near where Zhao Yunlan is expected to get a room, a short walk down the hall.

They wait an eternity for some kind of update. The minutes crawl by, everyone hunched over in chairs or leaning stiffly against the wall.
Shen Wei feels their attention, the stares repeatedly turned in his direction. An unfamiliar middle-aged man is whispering softly to Zhao Xinci further off, but everyone else is quiet.

Da Qing is sitting closest and seems to want to lean into him, glancing in his direction repeatedly and shivering, shoulders stiffly bracketing his ears.

“A year and a half,” he eventually mutters.

Shen Wei realizes after a moment that Da Qing is speaking to him. He coughs to clear his sore throat.

“Da Qing?”

He glances up, making eye contact with Shen Wei for a few seconds before his gaze slants off into space and fresh tears spill from his exhausted-looking eyes.

“How long it’s been. A year and a half. Since you and Lao Zhao died.”

Shen Wei reaches over and rests a hand on his shoulder for a few moments, unable to think clearly enough to respond.
He has to keep swallowing down the urge to retch, empty stomach twisting. Every muffled voice, every squeak of a shoe on tile ratchets up Shen Wei’s fear - he can feel his pulse thumping in his neck.
Trying to reason out what could have possibly led them here, whether he can really believe that Zhao Yunlan isn’t gone, that he – that they both- might be okay, might survive, together, is more than his mind can take.

Finally, someone comes out to speak to them. Shen Wei doesn’t breathe, listening as she explains that Zhao Yunlan “had some kind of blunt force trauma to the head, a laceration that had been left untreated too long and required several stitches, badly bruised knees- but no other sign of injury, no signs of internal bleeding.”

She goes on to describe symptoms of shock – low blood pressure and heart rate, and abnormally slow breathing. But a blood test came back completely normal, results of a CT scan should be in soon, and he’s been given something to increase blood pressure and help his heart work properly. They want to get the scan analysis results and monitor for a bit longer to make sure he’s stable, though, before releasing him to a room where visitors are allowed.

Left with this inconclusive update, Shen Wei remains frozen, his unfocused stare drawn in the direction he thinks Zhao Yunlan is in. He can smell that he still reeks of blood. Da Qing must be struggling to put up with it, remaining so close.

“Professor Shen – are you feeling okay? Um, can I get you anything?”

Shen Wei hadn’t even noticed Xiao Guo come close. He just looks up blankly, the ceiling lights making his eyes sting. When he’s unable to dredge up a response, Xiao Guo twitches forward to fill the silence. “He’ll be okay, I’m sure he’ll be fine. He’s …you know how stubborn he is,” Xiao Guo swallows, grasping at straws for something confidence-inducing.
“When he came back, he wasn’t sick at all – he probably would have been really healthy if he hadn’t hit his head on something. He was just, umm, - he was just really …upset,” he trails off, looking as if he wants to say more for a moment, then letting his gaze drop to the ground, sniffing loudly, and stepping away.

Shen Wei is vaguely aware of Chu Shuzhi murmuring something to Xiao Guo when he returns to the empty seat next to him. They both look shaken. He knows if he was his old self at all, he’d worry about appearing rude, but just sitting here quietly and waiting as if there was anything normal about this, is already taking more than he has to give.

Time stretches painfully again. Da Qing leans in the other direction and asks Lin Jing who Zhao Xinci has been talking to. Zhu Hong, sitting on Lin Jing’s other side, overhears and whispers that it’s Zhang Shi. Shen Wei’s scattered thoughts pause for a brief moment on the oddness of that, but the thought disintegrates almost immediately.

Nearly two more excruciating hours pass before someone finally comes back. They’re told that the scan results were good, and the drugs have helped Zhao Yunlan’s blood pressure and heart rate improve, though they both remain low. He hasn’t woken up, but is getting routine treatment at this point, oxygen and a plain saline IV – and finally, they’re given a room number and asked not to crowd the space or disturb the patient.

They all rush to the door, and look to Shen Wei to enter first.
He nearly runs in, drinking in the sight in front of him but terrified to trust the image of Zhao Yunlan lying clean and supposedly safe under a thin blanket. He leans over the bed to search for any sign of injury they might have missed.
His hands flit over Yunlan's unconscious form, finding nothing new. Seeing a face too pale but not frighteningly so, Shen Wei stills himself to watch for the subtle rise and fall of Yunlan’s abdomen as he breathes, slowly but steadily.
He lets his hands drop gently onto Yunlan’s shoulders to squeeze, needing to try.
He breathes, “Yunlan. Zhao Yunlan,” his pulse still roaring in his ears, “Yunlan, can you hear me?” He feels more than hears his own voice. Zhao Yunlan is unresponsive, utterly still other than the almost imperceptible movements of breathing. His head lists to the side when Shen Wei’s grip twitches a little too hard, lips parting a bit with the movement, and Shen Wei is overwhelmed suddenly by how fragile he seems under his hands.
He very carefully straightens his neck back out, whispering an apology as he cradles his head in his hands and smooths a tangle of hair back off his forehead.

A chair has appeared behind his knees, pulled right up against the bedside, and he’s guided backwards into it – he can’t look away. He leans on the frame and clings to Zhao Yunlan’s right hand, two fingers resting over the pulse point on his wrist.

The crowd behind him shifts and murmurs, rattling Shen Wei’s frayed self-control and keeping him in a state of distracted low-level panic. Some time must pass; the windows have been dark since soon after they got here. Eventually someone whispers that they’re off to get a few hours sleep, and the hospital has their contact info to call if anything changes. The room finally empties out, and Shen Wei’s thoughts begin to come together.

He looks down at Zhao Yunlan’s hand, framed by his own. Their last words to each other, that odd moment in the fuzzy, dream-like void created by the Hallows, float up in his memory.
He’d nearly begged Yunlan to promise they’d see each other again, the emotions pouring from him so strong he thought they must have been visible.
Yunlan had agreed, with a strange twist to the sadness on his face.
They’d reached out for each other then, moving closer, hands rising, and Shen Wei had just started to say “I’ll find you –” when a rush of destroying power had flared up and the illusion around them, the illusion of them, all shattered. In his last glimpse of Zhao Yunlan’s face, he saw resignation. He saw a complete lack of surprise when he felt what he realized was the power of the Lantern ripping Zhao Yunlan away, what he felt even as everything disintegrated, sense of time and most of his sense of self included, because part of him had been ripped away with it. Then nothing remained but grief. Despair.

His spine bows as the still-vivid memory settles heavily over him, his face sinking into the cotton at Zhao Yunlan’s elbow in a silent wail.
His shoulders convulse with the wretched, strained sobbing that rattles his frame as he blindly reaches up with his fumbling left hand to find Zhao Yunlan’s shoulder and hold on.

He’d felt Zhao Yunlan being consumed by the Lantern.
He doesn’t know how to believe that they could be here, alive, both of them, in this room right now.

Finally given time and space and breath again, Shen Wei weeps uncontrollably, loudly, everything choked up in his heart for all that had happened to them finally having an outlet to pour from, space to hemorrhage out into.
He cries until his strength is sapped, face pressed between Zhao Yunlan’s arm and the mattress, muffling the keening sounds coming from his throat, which feels sore enough to be bleeding. His head throbs. His sinuses are so clogged that every other hiccupped breath he sucks in makes his ears pop.
He feels powerless to even try to contain the violent release of grief until after a while, exhaustion finally overtakes him and quietly blots out his consciousness like a heavy blanket. He falls into a fitful sleep, still sitting half-draped over the side of the bed.

Some time later, the sky still predawn gray, Shen Wei wakes up already aware that someone is in the room behind him. He straightens his aching neck out and looks over Zhao Yunlan, who still seems to be sleeping peacefully. He stands slowly, running his hands under Yunlan’s shoulders to shift his upper body a little, as much as he can without being too rough – it isn’t good to lie in one position for so long. He presses his fingertips in and drags them carefully over the muscles in Yunlan’s back, around his shoulder blades, hoping to ease the stiffness he might feel if he wakes up. When he wakes up.

When he’s done what he can like this, he drops his right hand down to Yunlan’s wrist again and turns to look at the person waiting behind him. It’s that unfamiliar face – Zhang Shi, they’d said. He’s standing stiffly, alone, red eyes leaking as they shift from Yunlan up to Shen Wei.
Zhang Shi twitches as if to move forward, then drops unsteadily to his knees, expression twisting in pain as he plants his forehead on the tile floor between splayed hands. His back swells and he sobs out, roughly, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry –“ against the floor.

Shen Wei is taken aback, unsure what’s going on. Dread trickles cold through his gut – is there some horrible truth he’s still unaware of?

He grits out, increasingly terrified, “Why? What are you sorry for?”

Zhang Shi breathes heavily, gasps out against the linoleum, “I – it was me. I- ” he sniffs wetly. “I told him what had to be done, to relight the Lantern.” He whines, “I didn’t want him to do it himself- but he had to know how to make it work, if it was necessary. So I told him.”

Shen Wei’s mind is buzzing blankly. He tries to imagine - Zhao Yunlan has always been stubborn, too quick to endanger himself for others – Shen Wei can see too easily how that might have gone.

He responds, a little warily, “Giving him the information he was looking for isn’t something you need to apologize for. It was the truth. You didn’t force his hand.”

“No but I could have –there must have been something else I could have done. Dixing was nearly destroyed, and Dragon City would probably have gone with it, so someone would have had to be willing. But it didn’t need to be him.”

He looks up for a moment, curling his shoulders in, then sagging back to the tile. “He’d gone down there to save you. To stop Ye Zun before things were too far gone. He didn’t …” Zhang Shi’s voice is cut off; his strangled weeping starts up again.

Shen Wei releases Yunlan’s wrist to bend down and pull at Zhang Shi’s elbows. “Get up, please.”

“No, that’s not all –”

Shen Wei’s grip twitches.

“When I told him how it worked, he said – he said if he didn’t make it back – he asked me to take over for him. He –”

“He said to- to …live his life well -”

Zhang Shi breaks down entirely, again, sobbing, still face-down on the floor. Shen Wei is a little slow to catch on, but realizes suddenly what he means.

“You – you occupied his body, didn’t you?”

Zhang Shi sobs louder, shoulders shaking.

“Yes, I did. I did – I’m so sorry. They managed to get back from Dixing quickly enough that the hospital was able to …keep things going with artificial support. And he’d asked me to – after everything that happened, how could I not try? But it - it was awful. I had to pretend – people would call me by his name, and I had to go along with it, had to try to smile and, and – talk to people who thought I was him, and act like it wasn’t the most terrible lie. I couldn’t really do it. I was a horrible actor. Everyone could tell that something was off. But I got away with it – I got away with it anyway. Everyone gave me a pass, only because they all just thought it was him, out of his mind mourning you.

Shen Wei swallows painfully, forcing a deep breath through his raw throat. “You took over before his life faded. You did that all this time.”

“Yes – I’m sorry, I’m sorry – “

“You kept his body alive for a year and a half. And he was able to return to it just a few days ago.”

“I….”

Shen Wei feels dizzy, nauseated. He's suddenly able to believe the things that he'd been told. Zhao Yunlan -

He leans heavily on the other man’s arms, dropping from a crouch to his knees. His grip on Zhang Shi’s elbows tightens, and he shakes them weakly, sliding back a little to press his own forehead against the floor.

“Thank you - thank you – I owe you more than I could ever, ever repay –“

Zhang Shi’s elbows slip out of his grip and his own arms are suddenly being pulled up. “No- no, don’t – get up, please, you can’t – “

Shen Wei nearly shouts, “I cannot get up! Zhang Shi, if you hadn’t done what you did, he – there wouldn’t have been anything for him to come back to! He wouldn’t have been able to return, even having - even having miraculously been replaced in the Lantern. I – I can never – “

His eyes are leaking liberally, he can feel his cheek smearing wet on the tile, his mouth gaping open. He trails off, tipping over onto his side, a sudden sense of vertigo paralyzing him as he feels the sheer improbability of things falling into place as they have.

Zhang Shi remains on the floor by his side as he waits for the panic to fade; when he finally calms down enough to regain control over his limbs, he slowly pushes himself up to sit, swaying a bit, still.

Zhang Shi stands and helps him up and back into the chair, then steps back leaning unsteadily against the headboard, to look down at Yunlan’s sleeping form. Shen Wei just sits and watches, stunned.

Zhang Shi stands there silently for a while, and then sighs and begins to speak quietly, almost to himself.

“It shouldn’t have been possible. No one planned on this.

“Maybe what you’d done with the Dial actually altered the situation so much that he couldn’t fully become the Lantern’s wick like we believed he would. Like anyone willing should have been able to do.
Maybe there’s a lot more we don’t know about what the Hallows might be capable of.

“You returning, though – do you think you could have done that on your own?”

He pauses and looks at Shen Wei, who has no idea, who stutters, “I don’t know. Probably not. I wouldn’t have tried to. I knew he’d given himself to the Lantern. I thought he was gone. Forever.”

Zhang Shi hums out a gravelly low sound. He looks completely wrung out.

“Considering that you reappeared, but still dead, and Yunlan had to do what he did with the Awl to revive you, I think what happened to you and what happened to him were directly related.
I think you came back specifically because, and only because you were still connected to him, and he was connected to a massive source of power and somehow didn’t disappear into it. And it sounded like he'd been calling for you, in a way, the entire time.”

He turns his head to look again at Shen Wei.

“Between that and the Dixingren who were trying to help him, it sounds like he may have literally wished you back to life.”

Shen Wei’s heart feels like it’s twisting; his eyes and nose again sting with tears.
He slowly tracks his gaze over Yunlan’s face, begging silently for him to wake up, to come back. Zhang Shi looks back down and reaches over to rest a hand on Yunlan’s head.

“I have no right to any connection to him – I was just a thousands-year old hitchhiker who grew very attached as I watched him grow up. But he was like my own son. I was always proud of him, even if he could never please Xinci. He,” Zhang Shi swallows hard, wiping his eyes. “he’s such a good person, even if many don’t really understand him.” He smiles sadly, “He has a crowd of very loyal friends.”

“But other than his mother - no one’s ever loved him like you do.” Zhang Shi’s voice cracks, “So please – take care of him.”

Shen Wei’s throat closes up; his hand, which had found its way back to Yunlan’s wrist, tightens. He bows his head and says, “I promise, I’ll never leave his side again, in life or death.”

They look at each other silently, and both turn back to watch Zhao Yunlan and wait for him to stir.

Chapter Text

When Da Qing wakes up, his phone is buzzing itself off the desk in the Chief’s office. The crash as it hits the floor jolts him into alertness and he rolls off the chair, transforming and grabbling clumsily to take the call before it stops. A sharp voice on the other end, clearly exasperated, is looking for someone to come take responsibility for Zhao Yunlan and his guest at the hospital, who disappeared without a trace from behind a closed door.

Da Qing blanks for a moment – “Did something happen – did Lao Zhao wake up?”

They make an audible attempt to rein in their frustration, pausing before replying, “Yes, he had woken up, and was upset and trying to leave. His visitor returned to the room and the two of them were talking, so we left them alone and closed the door so they could have some privacy. But a little while later, his assigned nurse opened the door and they were gone.”

Da Qing’s mind stalls out for another moment and he panics a little, automatically. His memories of them had seemed to still be so clear, but it takes a second for him to actually remember that Shen Wei could just quietly open another portal if they decided they had to leave. He barks out a harsh laugh, then apologizes, wanting to laugh and cry at the same time – and offers to rush over and sign discharge papers.

After placating the poor doctors and signing all their paperwork, doing his best not to think about parallels, Da Qing itches to go straight to the apartment, where he assumes they must have gone. He doesn’t allow himself to be paranoid about it – nothing is wrong. There’s no emergency. They just went home – they went home.

While everyone was waiting for Zhao Yunlan to wake up, Zhang Shi had dropped off his wallet, phone, and a pile of work-related folders at HQ. Da Qing refuses, again, to think about parallels. Zhao Yunlan and Shen Wei must have left the hospital with nothing but the clothes on their backs - possibly not including shoes - but he can help them with that right now, make it a little easier for them to settle back in to surviving, having a future. They're going to need stuff.

He hitches a ride back to the office, then stops to pick up some standard over-the-counter human medicine and food – an excessive volume of takeout, and some basic things that’ll need cooking… ugh, the fridge is going to need to be cleaned out really badly.

What had Lao Zhao liked to eat the most?

Da Qing is sure he remembers everything, even if he’s drawing nothing but blanks right now – he’s just having a hard time thinking straight. It’s all still in there, it’ll come back.
He was never going to let himself forget.

What was he just thinking about? What do they need right now?
His head is buzzing; he tries to focus.

The apartment itself still has pretty much all Zhao Yunlan’s things, and what they’d taken from Shen Wei’s apartment – all that can be given back to them.

They’re here. Alive. They should be at home right now.

Da Qing is overwhelmed by these thoughts, like he’s a teacup someone is trying to pour a lake into.

He walks through the city a little unsteadily, probably appearing slightly drunk to people he passes on the street.

He waits as long as he can stand to – this is first time those two have seen each other since that horrible day, and Da Qing imagines after all the shit they went through, they’re going to need time alone. He doesn’t want to rush in too soon.

Several hours after their disappearance from the hospital, Da Qing figures it’s got to be fine enough to let himself in by now. He takes his time jangling the keys, not wanting to freak them out – they’re probably going to be on edge for a long time, after everything.
He puts the bags down just inside the doorway and calls out softly, looking up.

The floor is a mess, even more than usual. The kitchen and couch are empty – his gaze sweeps to the left and almost passes over the two faces staring back from the opposite end of the room.

It’s them. They’re home. They’re in bed. They’re awake.
They’re - not wearing anything.
That’s new.

Shen Wei is on his back, and Zhao Yunlan is lying behind him, propped up on an elbow with his arm draped over Shen Wei’s waist. The quilt is drawn up over their hips, but there’s no question what’s been going on here.

Da Qing’s mind is an absolute mess – he’s very relieved to actually find them here, safe.
He’s ecstatic, a little surprised, and knows if this had been before, he'd be smug. Because he knew it.

He wishes things were normal enough that he could tease them about it.
He's overwhelmed, but knows he's happy for them, that they get another chance.

He’s going to have them back at home, again.

He’s feeling like that teacup, again.

He says, aggressively nonchalant, “I knew you’d be here. The hospital staff were kind of freaked out when you both managed to disappear without the door ever seeming to open.” He stares at them, lifting an eyebrow.

They gape, deer in the headlights.

“It’s fine, it’s fine, I signed the release forms, convinced them that they just turned their backs for the one wrong half second.” He closes the door fully behind him, picks up the bags and walks in to drop them on the coffee table. He's doing great - acting So Normal. It should really put them at ease.

“I just reminded them that you’d been through some horrendously traumatic shit and neither of you would have had the presence of mind to actually sign out properly.”

Zhao Yunlan huffs softly, finally relaxing enough to move. He pulls the quilt up a little further, covering Shen Wei’s stomach. Shen Wei just blinks, looking up at Zhao Yunlan, whose voice is rough when he replies.

“Thanks, Da Qing.”

Da Qing grabs the handles and lifts the overstuffed takeout bag up a little. The plastic rustles loudly, almost like his hands are shaking or something.

“I brought food- there’s not much that’s edible in the fridge right now. I know you two need some time to yourselves after everything that – ah, well - so I can sleep at HQ for a while, you know, and let you catch up. Lao Zhao, your phone and wallet are in the other bag – Zhang Shi had them.
We, ah-”
He tries to pull in a deep breath that wobbles far too much.
“We still have most of your stuff here. There are - um, your clothes and some shoes are in bins in the closet, and in the office.”
He sniffs hard as his eyes and nose start to sting sharply.
“Shen Wei’s, stuff is, ah, packed in there, too.” He points at the closet door, blinking rapidly.
“We didn’t get rid of anything,” he breathes weakly, voice wavering.

“Lao Zhao, your keys are still – are still in the – nightstand –"

Da Qing’s threadbare composure completely falls apart then, his eyes squeezing shut on their own so that the burning spills over, out of his control. He tries and fails to keep his hiccuping breaths from echoing in the otherwise silent room.

Zhao Yunlan pulls Shen Wei in towards the center of the bed a little further, then thumps his open palm on the open space on the quilt, saying, “Da Qing, come here- please, it’s ok, come here.”
Da Qing takes a step forward with a whine, transforming and trotting over to jump up onto the blanket, purring loudly, arrhythmically.
Zhao Yunlan drops his hand onto Da Qing’s head, smoothing his ears back and burying his fingers in the thick fur at his scruff to knead it.
Shen Wei pulls his left arm out from between them and curls it around to hem Da Qing in away from the edge, turning on his side so the three of them can curl in closer together.
How is this really happening right now - it's real - they're here -
Da Qing is surrounded, again, by their comforting smell and their body heat in the blankets- stronger and more enveloping than he remembers from before. He can hear them both breathing, feel the warm weight of Lao Zhao's hand on his shoulder blades.
He can hear the faint sound of Lao Zhao's scruff rasping against Shen Wei’s shoulder, and the softer sound of his mouth pressing a kiss there. He can feel their breathing falling further into sync, the slight swaying as they shift to get more comfortable, fingers drifting sleepily through his long fur.


It’s not a lake pouring into the teacup, he thinks. It’s an ocean.

Chapter Text

“This is it,” Lin Jing says, leaning back with his hands on his hips.

There’s barely room to walk through the mass of boxes, all opened, some of the contents already spilled out onto the floor of the suddenly tiny apartment. Da Qing, from his new favorite perch on Zhao Yunlan’s shoulders, sniffs and mutters, “I hate that smell.”

Zhao Yunlan and Shen Wei just stand there, staring down at the mess at their feet. Their twined fingers twist a little, tightening, but they don’t say anything.

For the first few days after an impossible return from death and oblivion, they’d been too preoccupied to worry much about things like clean clothes, their focus entirely on each other.

For a while their entire world had been nothing more than the space they fit into tangled together as close as possible. Nothing more than their warm, breathing, living bodies, steady heartbeats, no blood, no injury, no pain, no danger – just soft, sweet-smelling, unbroken skin, smooth and dry or slick with smeared tear tracks, with sweat made from love and fulfilled longing, and not a hopeless struggle against death.

For the first few days, a wad of Zhao Yunlan’s old t-shirts and shorts, pulled from a stale-smelling box that’d happened to be within easy reach, had sufficed. Eventually, though, the maintenance of mundane life began to demand attention when the few clothes they’d been cycling through started to smell no matter how often they cleaned each other off in the shower.

Lin Jing, seeming to feel awkward for some reason, hums and adds, “Well, there was furniture, the big stuff, like the couch and chairs that we had to give to a thrift store. But otherwise, yeah. We’d kept everything we could fit in here, and, ah, just never got around to donating it.”

Shen Wei hums and clears his throat.

"Thank you, Lin Jing, Da Qing. You really did keep almost everything, even after so long. The antiques didn’t really mean anything to me. And I - I don’t blame you for not knowing what to do with a 140 kilo millstone or a set of swords and a shield.”

“Millstone?”

“Swords? Antiques?”

Da Qing and Lin Jing stare blankly at each other.

Zhao Yunlan grinds out, “You thought Shen Wei kept an apartment with all those empty shelves.”

His nose is scrunching like it always does when he’s pissed, and his lips are about to curl in a sneer.

Shen Wei leans into his shoulder, nudging, and says softly, “Yunlan, it’s fine. Those things didn’t matter.”

Zhao Yunlan stares at him, torn between refusing to let it go, and going soft and caving to Shen Wei’s acceptance. That fucking landlord.

“No, you know what. fuck this. That’s it. I don’t care how bad the mortgage payment is going to be, I’m buying us a house.”

After a few days spent clinging to each other, the shock of being alive, safe, and together finally starting to settle a little, Shen Wei and Zhao Yunlan get up the courage to venture out of the apartment to do a little much-needed shopping.

The sun is out, the weather is mild, and the city, busy and noisy with everyday life, clamors around them. Da Qing had kept most of their things, and had even done some food shopping just after their return. But there are a lot of odd little gaps to fill in, and they need to work on getting their lives going again - which will require leaving the house, for better or worse. So they head out to the closest pharmacy.

It’s more than a little strange to be out in the buzz of a normal day in the city, disorienting despite the time already spent trying to adjust.

When they’d last been out here, it had been a battleground.

They’re walking a little unsteadily, hands clasped probably tighter than necessary - but it’s still noticeable when Zhao Yunlan slows to a stop and stares blankly into space, somewhere in the general direction of a sidewalk crowded with people, plants, and café tables.

Shen Wei steps closer, trying to interpret the distant look on his face.

"Yunlan, are you okay? What is it?" – Zhao Yunlan blinks, staring at Shen Wei for a moment, then smiles still looking a bit shell shocked, shaking his head. Shen Wei thinks, he’s remembering something.

Zhao Yunlan pulls his phone out with his free hand and shoots off a moderately long text to someone. He mutters,
“Just asking Wang Zheng to check something.”

They continue slowly making their way to the shop. Zhao Yunlan is especially distracted, and Shen Wei finds himself paying extra attention to their surroundings - as if there’s still a threat that could turn a corner into them at any moment.

They finally reach the place and make a circuit through the aisles, hips frequently bumping, never releasing their hands. Shen Wei carries the basket and they fill it with less teasing than he’d been ready for. But the weight of grief still hangs like a lead pall over them both, especially hard on Zhao Yunlan – Shen Wei knows he may never again see him lighthearted and ridiculous in the way he used to be capable of, so badly wounded now by what had happened to them.
They get sidetracked staring at each other frequently – Zhao Yunlan always looking as if he’s afraid Shen Wei is going to suddenly disappear, Shen Wei sure the lingering aftershocks of his own fear are similarly visible. They’re here now, possibly in less danger than ever before, but it seems it’s going to take a while for them to really feel it.

They’ve made it part of the way home when Zhao Yunlan’s phone buzzes.
He stops, squinting at it, then squeezing Shen Wei’s hand before letting go to flick at something on the touch screen. After a few moments he slowly lowers the thing, stuffing it back in his pocket and staring blankly again, blindly reaching out for Shen Wei. He looks back at him again, finally, seeming even more vaguely distraught. Shen Wei is about to ask what’s going on when Zhao Yunlan gently tugs his hand and leads him back down the street.

"Yunlan, is everything okay?”

Zhao Yunlan turns to look at him again, gaze lingering, still unsettled- and says only that he’d remembered something. Shortly afterward, he takes them on an unexpected turn away from the route back home. Shen Wei follows silently, assuming Zhao Yunlan will explain soon enough. They slow down a few minutes later at another intersection, while Zhao Yunlan looks very slowly around, then up at overhead signs a couple of times.

His hold on Shen Wei’s hand tightens. He asks, “Do you remember this?"

Shen Wei looks around them again, more carefully. "This …?"
Zhao Yunlan leads them a bit further.

Shen Wei realizes suddenly that they’re facing a bench on the sidewalk. He looks around behind them again, finally recognizing the scenery from this perspective.

“Oh, yes, I do. We sat here for a while that one time, after you brought me back from Dixing.”

Zhao Yunlan pulls him gently towards it and they sit down. He hunches over slowly, face bowed over Shen Wei’s hand, bringing his other hand up to hold it in both of them. Shen Wei feels him pressing his mouth against his knuckles. Zhao Yunlan suddenly sucks in a long breath, cold and a little wet, whining softly as his back heaves a little. Shen Wei puts his free hand on the back of his neck, rubbing lightly. It’s no surprise, really –there are so many memories he could be reliving right now. But –

“Yunlan, what is it- will you tell me? I’m here. Please, talk to me.”

Zhao Yunlan looks up finally, eyes glossy and red. He straightens out a little, moving closer. His eyes slowly track over Shen Wei’s face, seeming to be committing it to memory, something he’s done so many times since he woke up. He lifts a hand up to cup Shen Wei’s jaw, tracing a thumb across his cheek under his left eye.

He breathes, eyes wide, “This is where they found you.”

It takes a moment for the words to make sense. Where they found him …oh. When he reappeared in Haixing. He’d been dead, still.

Shen Wei hadn’t had the energy to spare to wonder about his own return, after waking up - first believing Zhao Yunlan was gone forever, then not knowing if he’d live, and then being completely preoccupied with him when he came to.

Somewhere in all that, the others had mentioned that his body had been found the morning after the portal reopened, and had been carted off to be shut up in a drawer in cold storage.

Zhao Yunlan’s eyes drift for a second to the wooden slats they’re leaning against. “The police report, from that morning – Wang Zheng just sent it to me. I’d suddenly remembered, they’d said they found you out in the city, on a bench. I just – she sent me the report, and it was here. It was right here.”

The expression on his face is a complex twist of emotions, all heartbroken.

Shen Wei smooths over his furrowed eyebrows with a thumb, wipes a single tear track from his face with his fingers. He remembers what Zhang Shi had said, thinks through it –

“If it wasn’t random, then – this place was …a happy memory for both of us, I think. Maybe one of the last moments of peace we had, before... before the end.
Zhang Shi said something, when we were in the hospital waiting for you to wake up."

“He said he thinks you brought me back."
Zhao Yunlan's eyes widen.

“He said that he thought, since we still had the connection that had somehow survived everything, and that you had become a conduit for a massive amount of power … that what you – what they said you were focused on all that time – he said – ”

Shen Wei swallows to try to clear his tight throat.

“He said - he thinks you wished me back to life.”

Shen Wei feels a tear finally slip over his eyelashes and roll down his cheek – he looks up from their clasped hands to see Zhao Yunlan’s gaze fixed on him, his eyes overflowing, tears streaming silently down his face.

Shen Wei smiles, wobbly, more liquid spilling from the movement -

“Maybe this – maybe this was part of that. You just – you brought me back to a place that had been a happy memory for both of us.”

Zhao Yunlan makes a strained little sound in his nose, the look on his face a smile over a thousand tortured emotions. They pull each other in to close the already minimal space that had remained between them on the bench and just cling tightly for a long time, knees pressed painfully together.

Chapter Text

When it happens it still tends to be shallow and easily disturbed, but Shen Wei sleeps a lot more often now.

He doesn’t think he needs it – his health is much better without Zhao Yunlan’s energy trapped inside him even if, regardless of the damage it had caused, he refuses to think of it as contamination. He’s as strong now as he’s ever been in Haixing, even after everything that’s happened to them.

Rather, the need for rest seems to just be emotional exhaustion. The still-new, not-quite-real sense of relief is so massive, so overwhelming that it doesn’t even feel like relief. And then there’s the very foreign, near total absence of dread- no impending disaster to anticipate.

Any of these things could easily be soporific, combined of course with the fact that since their return, he simply spends more time in bed than he’d ever have thought possible, or reasonable.

Lying here, soaking up Yunlan’s warmth, letting his fingers skim over the smooth skin between his shoulder blades and faint prickles at the nape of his neck where his hair was recently cut, Shen Wei can’t remember – has he ever truly felt peace before?

There must have been a time when he was little – before his memories even begin. But when he was still very young, his parents died. Then his brother disappeared, the meteor dropped and there was war. Then after a brief bright spot at Kunlun’s side, everything went somehow even more to shit, despite the revelation that his brother hadn’t died. Then he spent an age buried alive, alone, with one of the two people he cared about most in the world gone, possibly forever, and the other alive but out of reach, twisted beyond recognition.

Then after millennia, trapped, thinking he should have long since died, thinking he couldn’t possibly ever see Kunlun again after so long - he’d finally managed to escape to the surface in a world where he was shocked to find context for Kunlun’s odd appearance when they’d first crossed paths. The unexpected resemblances in humans' dress in this new time/place gave him new hope and he waited, clinging to what Kunlun had said to him, so sure they’d meet again – but still, he spent years searching, still alone.

And then, he miraculously found him, right where he taught. But Kunlun didn’t recognize him, had a different name – and it was in the midst of strange and ominous events which only got worse as the two of them finally got closer again.

And then, then just when everything fell into place and he and Yunlan were finally, finally on the same page, they both died.

Where in all of that would there have been any room for peace or contentment?

Shen Wei realizes now that he’d never really considered it something he could have for himself – he’d gone so long living in some kind of turmoil and with such heavy responsibility that he’d assumed it just wasn’t in the cards for him. His own death and Yunlan's self-sacrifice to the Lantern had only seemed to confirm it.
Yet here he is now, so much weight lifted from his shoulders that it’s disorienting.

His brother is gone, but he’d already been mourning that loss for most of his life - so it’s an old ache in some ways, eased further by knowing that in the end they’d finally been able to understand each other and settle everything before Ye Zun moved on.

The new rebellion is long since over. Dixing has light. The city has rebuilt, his twin is finally at peace, and Zhao Yunlan is alive and safe, sleeping in his own bed, theirs now, breathing softly under Shen Wei’s hand.

Shen Wei is nearly half-asleep, soothed to drowsiness by the slow, slight rise and fall of Yunlan’s abdomen. He wonders at the strange, unreal feeling of being here, now, like this, after. It’s still difficult to believe that this isn’t a dream, being allowed this, to lie flush up against his love in the dark, warm and comfortable with barely a scrap of fabric between them, their surroundings truly calm and quiet but for occasional distant sounds of traffic in the background. His eyes are nearly always raw now because this, all this, just keeps bringing him to tears over and over.

Yunlan twitches and makes a series of low sounds – he must be dreaming again. He’s been sleeping a lot as well, and naturally, it’s been broken and unsettled. Shen Wei smooths his hand slowly down and up his back, under the threadbare fabric of his t shirt, careful not to dislodge the quilt.

Right now, Shen Wei’s world is very small, very focused. What he’s needed for most urgently is what he wanted more than anything, for much of his life - to stay close to Yunlan. He’s frighteningly injured by what happened, cut deeper by the devastation of having outlived Shen Wei, having been forced to watch him be killed, and having had to end his own life - his existence - shortly afterwards.

Shen Wei feels more protective over him than ever. And if he’s still often overwhelmed by the fear that he can’t trust this present to be more than a dream or a delusion, Yunlan is even more so. If it isn’t gut-wrenching memory still horribly fresh, the disbelief accompanied by a rush of adrenaline will roll over them both in waves, frequently interrupting the attempts they’ve made at resuming the lives they were torn from. It’s exhausting. It’s been difficult to just pick up where they left off. They’re ecstatic, in ways, finally able to just be together without the threat of being ripped apart looming overhead anymore. But they’re nowhere near knowing how to let their guard down. They’ll find ways to cling to each other any chance they can get.

He’s still somewhat terrified, a feeling that has been impossible to fully shake off. He shouldn’t be able to so easily relax. But the nature of his current purpose is too soothing, and maybe he’s more wrung out than he realizes, because it leads to a lot more dozing off than he’d ever have imagined himself doing in life.



They’ve spent a lot of their time like this, just slowly beginning to try to get their lives going again, only having ventured out to shop for a few things, never separating further than the opposite sides of a bathroom door. They‘ve been nearly glued to each others’ sides, otherwise, since the moment they’d reunited on the hospital floor.

And then today, Shen Wei had needed to meet with DCU admins to talk about returning to work.

Zhao Yunlan walked him all the way to the Dean’s office door, and they’d stood there, faltering.

They’d known that actually walking away from each other would be difficult. They were alive again. There was time, now – and it meant they were going to have to start living their lives and couldn’t always be in the same room, within sight of each other.

They’d talked about what they wanted to do, now that they had a future, even if it was still nearly incomprehensible. Yunlan suggested that their options were entirely open, since they’d died and the world had moved on without them – but in the end, running away to start a new life just wasn’t as appealing as it might have looked on paper.

The question of how or whether Shen Wei would take up his Envoy responsibilities again was still up in the air – he hadn’t really considered any other option, but Yunlan had gotten very emotional about it, insisting that Shen Wei had done enough and that he deserved to live for himself now, after everything. He’d said that he felt terrible about something he’d pointed out in the past, during the war, about Shen Wei’s natural instinct to disregard his own safety to do the right thing. He’d told him to live without regret – but what did that mean now? Although it was true, had been true of both of them- thinking about it now, he couldn’t just stand back and watch Shen Wei put himself in danger anymore. Maybe it was selfish – both of them would still have this tendency – but at any cost, after what they’d been through? Could they ever go through that again?

Shen Wei would try to calm him, insisting that there was time, that they could think about it when they were ready. Maybe it was just too soon to face some of these things. But the living would always have bills to pay, and neither of them could be content holing up at home indefinitely, so they’d need to return to work, one way or another.

Shen Wei stepped close outside the closed door, blinking madly, murmuring in his ear, “Everything’s ok. We’re safe. We’ll be fine.” He’d adjusted his fingers, threaded through Yunlan’s, squeezing. “Nothing’s going to happen, and I’ll be out soon. You can just wait for me.”

Zhao Yunlan, who had earlier suggested, optimistically, that if they were going back to work maybe he could just go to HQ himself, was frozen stiff and also visibly shaking. With clear effort, he put on the most casual face he could manage, still a thin shadow of his formerly typical confidence. The fear shining crystal clear through it broke Shen Wei’s heart. There was rarely a moment now where Yunlan didn’t seem about to burst into tears, drinking in Shen Wei’s presence, always reluctant to look away. Shen Wei wondered what Yunlan saw in his own face - if it was just as visible, the still-lingering horror that Yunlan had given himself up to an end worse than death, and that this, here, now, should all be impossible, and felt too good to be true.

Neither of them let go when they each took a small step back, still standing at the office door. Yunlan twitched with a small smile that didn’t reach his panicked eyes. He said, “I’ll – I’ll ah, find a bench outside.” Shen Wei squeezed his clammy hands before trying and failing again to let go.

“I’ll just be in this office – I won’t go anywhere else, I promise. I will find you outside as soon as we finish.” He felt pain thread through his chest to clamp around his throat around those words, again - I’ll find you - but this wasn’t a goodbye. They were okay now. This was different. They were safe. They’d have to get this over with.

He tightened his grip on Yunlan’s hands one more time and released one, knocking twice on the door. Yunlan’s mouth flattened into a line; he let Shen Wei’s other hand go with one last heavy look and stiffly turned to walk away. Shen Wei’s pulse was thumping in his ears, but the Dean opened the door just then, inviting him in with a stare that he was clearly trying to keep under control. Shen Wei stepped across the threshold, hoping to be as distracted as possible by the short conversation they were about to have.

Zhao Yunlan comes to on a bench outside the Bioengineering campus building.

His vision had tunneled as he’d stumbled out, leaving Shen Wei behind him for the first time since …since. The lawn outside the building was too far; he’d dropped to sit on the stairs off to one side, nausea rising in a wave of cold sweat, trying to remind himself that everything was fine – better than fine, even. The threats that had loomed over them for so long were almost entirely non-existent now; Shen Wei was about as safe as he could possibly be.

They were both safe. They’d come home; they were here – Shen Wei was just a minute’s walk away. He’d told himself this repeatedly, but the anxiety wouldn’t subside. He’d eventually been sick in the grass next to a bench someone had helped him over to, offering a bottle of water, leaving it on the ground. He’d half passed out for a bit - but it’s been a while, now.

At least, it feels like it’s been a while - how long has he been out here, waiting?

Zhao Yunlan wants to go back in and check, but doesn’t want to interrupt. He waits as long as he can stand to, fighting off waves of anxiety.

Finally unable to stand it anymore, he makes his way back into the building and retraces his steps in the hall, around the two turns he’d taken out. The door is open when he gets there.

Students are sitting at one of a set of long tables inside. It doesn’t look like a Dean’s office at all.

Did he take a wrong turn?

Dread washes through him; he leans against the wall breathing heavily, trying to stay calm. He stops a person walking by and asks where the Dean’s office is, if not here. They’re confused – it’s not in this building, they tell him.
Zhao Yunlan blinks, dizzy, feels his throat stiffen in panic. This was the building they’d come to - the room he’d left Shen Wei at – he’s sure of it. He was too shaken to walk further than the nearest bench, even with help. Maybe he missed something - maybe they moved to a different room? A conference room? He starts walking further in, heart thudding in his ears - then back the way he came, checking the doors he’d passed. The sun slanting in through the windows is too low in the sky. It’s been too long. He starts calling for Shen Wei, softly at first, then louder as he picks up speed- then he stops, no longer sure where he is, how far he’s gone from that door they’d stood at together. A small crowd of concerned people starts to hover around as time passes and Shen Wei still doesn’t reappear. His knees threaten to buckle; the air becomes stifling, heavy. A couple of the people who have gathered seem to know who he is, but aren’t helping him find Shen Wei. One of the others makes a call and says the Dean hasn’t even been in this building all day. They pull the kid back, whispering in his ear, looking at Zhao Yunlan oddly. He slides against the wall to the floor, panting, barely able to move – like being submerged in wet cement. His throat strains just trying to breathe his name over and over, and he can’t seem to get it out loud enough no matter how hard he tries. More phone calls are made over his head, more people come and go around him as he huddles on the floor. Shen Wei - Why hasn’t anyone found him yet?

Suddenly, Da Qing’s feet appear out of the crowd.

He wheezes out, “Where is Shen Wei? How did you know I was here?”

Da Qing’s resigned, sad expression terrifies him.

“This – this isn’t the first time you’ve come here.” He crouches down, putting a hand on Zhao Yunlan’s arm.

“Come on, let’s go home.”

“No! I can’t leave - I - I was just waiting for Shen Wei to get out of a meeting. Da Qing - where is he? We just split up – we were just here –”
His eyes get very heavy- the hall and all the people in it fade into dark fuzzy shadows – He can’t move, can’t breathe, can’t look up, even when he feels Da Qing pulling, an arm wrapped around his side.

“Lao Zhao…”

“Shen Wei - no – no – no – NO"

Finally it bursts out sort of a yell and his whole body flails, breaking the suffocating paralysis, a sickening rush of adrenaline washing cold, acrid through him – something is clamped hard around his chest, pinning one of his arms.

There’s a disorienting shift, gone almost unnoticed as Zhao Yunlan’s heart shatters. It takes more than a moment for him to realize what he’s hearing, feeling, where he is – what he sees when he finally opens his eyes, barely aware that something is very different.

It’s dark, though his eyes are wide open.

He’s not at the university.

He’s tangled in his own quilt at home, familiar bedframe creaking, and the one restraining him, murmuring things against his neck in a low voice, isn’t Da Qing – oh, god -

Zhao Yunlan’s dreaming seems to turn more agitated; he whines out a series of distressed noises, twitching subtly, and then suddenly thrashes himself awake with a strangled cry. Shen Wei tightens his hold and swings a leg over to keep him from hurting himself. Zhao Yunlan sucks in a deep shaking breath and lets out a horrible low, long wailing sound with a full-body shudder that ripples under Shen Wei’s grasp – he thumps his fingers against Zhao Yunlan’s back and starts talking to him – “Wake up, Ah Lan, wake up – it was just a dream – look at me – open your eyes – ”

Zhao Yunlan seems to finally become aware of his surroundings, freezing as his eyes open to dart around wildly. He then somehow pulls them both up to sitting while wrapping his arms tight, shaking violently, around Shen Wei’s torso. His face is jammed into the crook of Shen Wei's neck, where he lets out long, painful-sounding gasps between harsh breaths that spread his ribcage like a bellows. His hands keep sliding around his back and shoulders, clenching, as if Shen Wei is going to slip out of his grasp if he stops.

Shen Wei continues talking softly, one hand still rubbing up and down Zhao Yunlan’s spine, the other cupping the back of his head. His fingers scrape gently against his scalp; he knows that whatever the nightmare was that he’s just escaped, Shen Wei needs to assure him that he’s here, and not going anywhere. After a minute, Yunlan’s harsh breathing fades a bit and becomes more human-sounding – he lifts his head, eyes wide in the dark, and runs shaking fingers over Shen Wei’s shoulders, up his neck. Shen Wei keeps one arm tight around him, shifting just enough so that they can see each other clearly. Yunlan goes completely silent as he murmurs, “It was just a dream – you’re ok. We’re ok.” Still thoroughly shocked, Yunlan leans in and presses his wet face against Shen Wei’s in a clumsy kiss and then drifts sideways against his jaw. He leans back a little and slides his hands to either side of Shen Wei’s face, shaking silently, still staring wide eyed. He’s not breathing; Shen Wei rubs his back to coax his lungs into moving again.

"Breathe, Ah Lan, breathe – come on,"

Yunlan shudders and sucks in a breath, still quiet, blinking tears that run down his chin and drop to the blanket.

He just manages to whisper, “You never came back.

“You had that meeting, and I waited outside the school building. But you never came out.”

His eyes screw shut, fingers stiffening against Shen Wei’s face.

“I couldn’t find you. Da Qing tried to take me away – it was - everything had just been a dream. None of it had been real. I left you at the door, and then – you just disappeared.”

He opens his eyes with another desperate, terrified look, drawing his shaking fingers through Shen Wei’s hair. Shen Wei starts talking through their day, trying to help him remember what really happened, to draw him away from the memory of his nightmare.

“It was just a nightmare. I’m here – you’re awake now – this is real. We did go to the school, you waited for me outside, and I came out after about half an hour and found you outside on the bench, remember? We sat there for a while until you felt a little better, and then took a cab back home – it was an old one, with ratty green upholstery, and it smelled like stale cigarettes. I was going to cook but you still weren’t feeling well, so we just drank some of the soup broth left over from last night, took a quick shower and went to bed.” He slides a hand to Yunlan’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “Remember me helping you into this shirt? Da Qing had gone out with Lin Jing after work, so he hasn’t been here since this morning. Do you remember all that?”

Yunlan pulls him closer, into a hug, and stays there. “Yes, I do. I’m – I’ll be okay. The memory is getting fuzzier – just keep talking to me, please? I need to hear your voice.”

Shen Wei coaxes him back under the blanket, lying half on top of him so Yunlan can feel the warm weight of his body, the movement of his breathing, the rumble of his voice in his chest while he murmurs near his ear. He drifts aloud through thoughts he’s got about buying furniture and a new fish tank for the office they’re already opening up for him at school, and how he’ll need help with all that, especially if they need to order anything online, and how much he’s looking forward to watching Yunlan rope half their friends into doing most of the heavy lifting because he can already see how that’s going to go, and then there will probably be students welcoming him back, and there might even be cake, which he fully expects Yunlan to stop in and eat without asking while interrupting office hours unannounced. A few tears escape to wet the pillow as he whispers how happy he is to think about having his life back, with Yunlan right there next to him, making himself comfortable in every part of it.

It takes a while and many uncounted, reassuring kisses before they both eventually drift off to sleep again.

Chapter Text

Shen Wei is behind the kitchen island, pulling out a pile of things for a bit of last-minute cooking at the end of what feels like a very long day.

Zhao Yunlan has just returned from a shower and is sitting at the counter, eyes tracking the graceful movements of Shen Wei’s hands, the cant of his hips as he moves easily through a routine others would have to go to school to master.

Zhao Yunlan could do this forever – just sit back and watch Shen Wei exist. He is hoping to be able to do that, in fact. It’s really better if he doesn’t try to help – he’d be liable to screw something up even if he wasn’t constantly distracted by the impulse to stop everything and wind his arms around the love of his life.

Shen Wei’s gaze will occasionally lift to meet his while he works, always lingering, sometimes with a lifted eyebrow daring him to pitch in instead of just sitting there. He is helping - it’s supervising, he’ll say with an irrepressible smirk. He’s quiet otherwise, though.

They’re still not comfortable separating, so even a mundane work day takes a lot out of both of them.

Looks like dried noodles, tonight – nothing like Shen Wei’s hand-pulled, which are Zhao Yunlan’s favorite, spoiled little shit that he is, but there’s no time for that.

Da Qing, in his peripheral vision on the couch, has paused in whatever he was doing on his phone, staring at the spread of ingredients on the kitchen counter.
He blurts out suddenly, “Can we – I want Lin Jing to come over to eat, is that alright?”

Shen Wei blinks and looks at Zhao Yunlan, who just raises his eyebrows a little, turning to face Da Qing. “Yes, of course.”

Da Qing sends a text, and Lin Jing shows up surprisingly quickly – or maybe it shouldn’t be surprising.

Zhao Yunlan wonders – he and Shen Wei were gone for a long time. They came back to a lot left unchanged, but things may have shifted in ways that aren’t obvious to them yet.

In another surprising development, Lin Jing offers to help.

Zhao Yunlan and Shen Wei look at each other, Shen Wei quickly shifting gears to make space.

Da Qing seems cheerful, if a bit twitchy, an interesting contrast to the deep-set sadness he has visible trouble shaking off.

Shen Wei’s work slows just a little to make room for Lin Jing, and things are ready reasonably quickly. They crowd around the low glass table, three on the couch and Zhao Yunlan on the stool, perched close to Shen Wei so that their ankles overlap.

Everyone picks up a bowl and starts, mostly quiet but for appreciative noises. After a couple of minutes, though, Zhao Yunlan realizes that Lin Jing has slowed to a stop and is just staring at his bowl. It’s nothing special - from a fairly plain, mass-produced set, little blue fish clearly painted on by a rushed hand.

Before he has time to wonder what’s off, Lin Jing slowly puts the bowl down, and Zhao Yunlan realizes his eyes are red and glossy. He opens his mouth to ask but Da Qing is a step ahead, replacing his own bowl and murmuring Lin Jing’s name. They turn towards each other and are suddenly wrapped in a tight hug, making small noises too muffled for him to hear. He and Shen Wei just look at each other; Shen Wei drops a hand on his knee and squeezes gently. They wait patiently for Da Qing and Lin Jing to settle; he threads his fingers through Shen Wei’s on his leg and runs his thumb over the delicate bones of his wrist.

They seem to recover quickly, sniffling a bit and smiling sheepishly. Shen Wei, looking unbearably, adorably fond, just tells them to eat more before it gets cold.

Soon enough the food disappears and the booze comes out. Zhao Yunlan gets up and retrieves glasses, one with water for Shen Wei - and then promptly jams his ass between Da Qing and Shen Wei on the now overstuffed couch. Da Qing complains theatrically, almost like his old self, and transforms to drape himself over Zhao Yunlan and Lin Jing’s legs. Zhao Yunlan throws an arm around Lin Jing’s shoulders and quietly thanks him for watching out for Da Qing. He half expects Da Qing to protest the idea that he’d ever need anyone to look after him, but the rumbling furball doesn’t say a word about it.

Chapter Text

Da qing’s phone lights up with a text from Zhang Shi.

How are they doing?

How are they doing? Da Qing thinks about Lao Zhao and Shen Wei, still huddled up at home.

Less than a week ago they were dead. Gone. Had been for a long time. The marks of their presence in the world had already faded, the few things that remained mostly packed away in dark and dusty corners.

He thinks about them now, how they drift around in the confines of the apartment. They’ll swing back and forth between seeming halfway normal, if shaken- almost how he remembers them, for a short while - and then one or both of them will suddenly be overcome by whatever they’re remembering and fall into each other, shaking and crying quietly, clinging to each other as if lost out in a storm, someplace far away from everyone in their minds.

Da Qing knows he isn’t really much better off, naturally gravitating towards one or both of them over and over when he’s there with them, needing contact, reassurance - though his own pain is different. He can’t understand exactly what they’ve been through.

He can’t describe all this. It’s too soon.

They’re getting better. Not bad, really, considering. …it is a lot to consider, though.

Hmm.

Do you think they’re ready to see visitors?

Ah, maybe not quite yet.

They’ve been keeping each other calm enough, but they’re still clearly in shock. And any time the outside world gets brought up they kind of go blank behind the eyes.

I brought them enough food for several days at least, and stayed the first night, but I’m trying to stay out of their hair for a while. They’re going to need time alone to settle a bit. So, I mean

if you went over now it wouldn’t be terrible, but if you want to really be able to talk to him, might be better to give it a couple more days. Especially if you want to bring the director along.

Okay
And how are you doing?

You know the answer to that.

Yeah

The relief is impossible to put into words. I still have a hard time believing it.

Me too. I can’t concentrate on anything. Can’t sleep.

I don’t think I can even remember what it was like to just be happy. Maybe it’ll come back to me now.

Eventually.

A few days later, Da Qing is out at HQ again, doing his best not to crowd them too much, when Zhang Shi sends another message.

Any change? Everything okay? Yunlan responded to my last text, but just barely

Yeah. they seem to have calmed down a bit. They’ve put outdoor clothes on and left the apartment, finally.

She Wei has started cooking again. They’re beginning to pick through boxes of their stuff, do laundry. Their hands have finally stopped shaking all the time.

So yeah, maybe now is good – but give them a heads up, at least.

Zhao Xinci has been a jittery mess, Zhang Shi knows – he’s possibly seen more of him in the past couple of weeks than the entire time since he’d left him.
Now that he’s borrowing a face that doesn’t hurt for others to look at, it’s much easier to reach out. And Xinci is going to need to be pushed to go see his son again for the first time since he came back from the dead.

He sends him a message.

Da Qing says they’re doing better, and should be up to having visitors. I’m texting Yunlan to check in – you and I are going to see them.

He tries to argue, of course he does.

Zhang Shi … I don’t know, it might be too soon.

Xinci. We already talked about this. How is waiting even longer going to help? I’m not going to let you avoid him - just cancel whatever you had going on.
It’s hardly worth trying to work anyway. I know you’re hopelessly distracted.

The response takes several minutes to arrive.

fine

Zhang Shi texts Yunlan again.
Looking at the number on his screen makes his heart jump a little. It had been one he’d looked forward to seeing, before everything went to hell, on the rare occasions that it’d popped up on Xinci’s phone.
It’s the same number he’d had to use all this time since. That had never stopped hurting.

He opens the text window – glances at his previous, nearly incoherent messages, from when he’d first tried to convey how he felt about Yunlan impossibly somehow being back at the other end of the line, alive, and with Shen Wei.

We’ve heard you’re feeling better - can we, Xinci and I, visit?

Just a minute later, Yunlan responds –

Of course – tonight or tomorrow, we’re not going anywhere. Just give us an hour or two of warning.

Tomorrow morning, around 10?

He doesn’t mention that he’s trying to give Xinci enough time to be ready without giving him too much time to get unreasonably worked up about it.

It’s another quiet morning – the first pot of coffee is still unfinished, and Zhao Yunlan and Shen Wei are just curled up on the couch reading paperwork brought home by Da Qing.

They’re trying to catch up on the current state of the SID and how different things have been. Zhao Yunlan wants to go back, and Shen Wei will be involved somehow or another, inevitably – but they’re in no rush. Even knowing visitors are coming isn’t enough to get them up yet.
Shen Wei is deeply reclined, nearly draped half over Zhao Yunlan, tucked into the curve of his arm and resting a hand on his stomach. Zhao Yunlan frequently turns away from the piles of printouts in his lap, leaning in to press his face into and breathe deeply through Shen Wei’s hair, to kiss the soft skin at the ridge of his eyebrow, fingers tracing absentmindedly up and down his side.

There’s a knock at the door. They reluctantly sit up, Shen Wei giving him a quick peck on the mouth before moving to answer.

There are murmured greetings and then someone Zhao Yunlan has never met steps in, wide-eyed. It must be Zhang Shi. He glances behind him and moves sideways, leading Zhao Xinci in.

They’re both pale, but Zhao Xinci looks washed out – his clothes don’t seem any different, but they hang off of him loosely. His hair has a lot more white in it. His face is almost gaunt.

Zhao Yunlan and Zhao Xinci stare at each other for a moment, then the other man speaks.

“Yun – Yunlan –” the man swallows, blinking tears out of his eyes.

“it’s me, Zhang Shi –”

Zhao Yunlan smiles, sadly, stammering a little, too. “I know. Hello.” Then – “Zhang Shi - I - I’m sorry. Thank you for keeping your promise, though- this isn’t at all what I’d thought might happen.”

They all stand there for a few seconds in tense silence. Shen Wei takes a step closer to stand next to Zhao Yunlan, resting a hand on his back.

Zhang Shi cracks, whining out his name and reaching for him, stumbling a little. He hugs Zhao Yunlan hard, his choked words muffled in the fabric of his shirt. Zhao Yunlan only hesitates a little before returning it, just slightly awkward with this person whose face is entirely unfamiliar. He closes his eyes for a minute, standing there patiently, then as Zhang Shi’s arms loosen and he starts to step back, makes eye contact with Zhao Xinci, who looks like a ghost. Like he’s seeing a ghost.

Zhang Shi stands back, a hand lingering on his shoulder, and also turns to face Zhao Xinci.

He’s standing stiffly, mouth hanging slightly open – it seems like he might be trying to get something out, his throat starts working silently – he starts to take a step forward and suddenly drops to his hands and knees on the floor, and when Zhao Yunlan kneels down to try to help him up he can just barely hear Xinci wheezing his name.

He just repeats it, over and over. Zhao Yunlan tries to get him up, but he doesn’t seem able to move. With some effort he manages to get Xinci to straighten up somewhat, still stiff – Zhao Yunlan just wraps his arms around him and apologizes, a few times to make sure he hears it. That seems to spark something – Xinci grabs him harder, squeezing his eyes shut, and sobs, whispering no – no –

He stops speaking and just waits. Eventually Xinci’s breathing starts to calm down, and he croaks out his own apology. Zhao Yunlan doesn’t ask what it’s for. One thing at a time, here.

With help from Zhang Shi, they finally get him up and moving towards the couch. He’s still dazed, just staring at Zhao Yunlan.

Zhang Shi sighs. “I kept an eye on him. I tried to make sure he didn’t work himself to death without me in his head to give second opinions on everything. It was …difficult to meet in person, but we sent a lot of messages.”

Zhao Yunlan holds eye contact for a moment, and quietly thanks him again. They finally get Xinci settled on the couch, and Zhao Yunlan sits between the two of them. Shen Wei is already making tea. Zhao Yunlan knows this is massively eventful for them, much more than it is for him, though he sympathizes. He doesn’t have a lot to say yet, really.

“I’m okay. We’re okay. We’re – really okay,” he finally settles on, smiling at both of them and up at Shen Wei, who’s watching them as he places cups and a pot on the glass tabletop, a complex expression poorly hidden behind his beautiful smile. Zhao Yunlan drinks in the sight for a moment, and looks for something innocuous to talk about as the two of them stare holes into the sides of his head.

“We were – we were just going through some open case files Da Qing brought home. There’s a lot to catch up on.” He points to the table.

Zhang Shi raises his eyebrows a little.

“You’re going to pick the job back up again?” He looks at both of them – “Both of you? I wondered if you might not just skip town and start a new life doing something completely different.”

Zhao Yunlan’s smile turns a little rueful; he tilts his head in acknowledgement. They had talked about the idea.

“Things are different. Things will be different. But yeah, I don’t really want to leave the SID. And Shen Wei wants to teach again.

We’re staying, but things will be different.”

Li Qian calls Jiajia, phone ringing, pulse thumping in her throat.

She remembers when they’d first really spoken at length.
Jiajia had looked her up, distraught because the university was clearing out Professor Shen’s office, no one had shown up that really knew him, and there were a lot of things that the school didn’t intend to keep. Jiajia couldn’t stomach the idea of any of his belongings being put out with the trash – it was just too sad.

But no one else had taken charge of the situation, and she was overwhelmed with it – one student had volunteered to deal with the fish tank, another instructor took the desk, the larger furniture and his nice writing tools, and the library took some of the books, but there was still so much.
His one emergency contact, strangely, hadn’t shown up for anything, and he had no family. Li Qian had been relatively close to him, for a student – did she know if he had any other friends? Wouldn’t she like to keep some of his things?

She’d been grateful that Jiajia had thought to contact her and agreed to stop in, feigning ignorance of why Zhao Yunlan might not be responding.
The two of them spent a teary-eyed, heavy afternoon sorting out what was left, going through nearly a box of tissues between the two of them.
Jiajia didn’t understand why they hadn’t heard a thing from the Chief, knowing they’d been close - she’d even learned that he had been Professor Shen’s emergency contact - and mentioned how strange it was. Li Qian suggested that he might just be too upset, but she was taking every unclaimed thing home regardless, in case anyone belatedly responded – so nothing would be thrown away. No need to worry too much.

Cheng Xinyan was the only other good friend Li Qian knew he’d had.
At an impromptu vigil that had happened on campus just after everything, though turnout had been huge, they’d managed to cross paths and learned through small talk that they were both mourning the same person.
The day they had to finish removing all Professor Shen’s things, Xinyan hadn’t been able to make it, but Li Qian was already planning to hold onto everything unclaimed that she could look at later.

A few boxes of things had eventually gone home with her, and they’d met up more than a few times over the many months since to drink over memories.

Just now, Li Qian had called Xinyan and left a message relaying what she’d heard from Lin Jing and asking if she’d caught wind of anything at the hospital.

Jiajia finally answers – not seeming surprised to hear from her, though it’s been a little while.

She trips over the words, starts over. “Jia- Jiajia, I have news. I don’t- I don't know yet exactly what happened, but listen –"

"Lin Jing from the SID called me just now."

"He said– you’re not going to believe this – I almost can’t believe it –"

"he said that –"

She stops to catch her breath and keep the tears at bay.

"Professor Shen is alive. They just brought him back from Dixing.”

There’s silence on the other end of the call for a few moments – then a breathed “what?”

“…is it – is it true?”

She wouldn’t believe it either, if she didn’t know she could trust Lin Jing with something so incomprehensible.

“It must be, he wouldn’t say so if he wasn’t sure – ”

There’s silence for several more seconds, and then Jiajia starts crying noisily even over the phone, and it makes Li Qian lose her composure a little, too.
Eventually she manages to get across that Zhao Yunlan also made it back with him.
Jiajia has known for months now what had really happened, if not in full detail- it hadn’t taken long for the secret of Zhao Yunlan's death to become too exhausting to dance around.
Li Qian had known all along, via Lin Jing, that the fake Zhao Yunlan had replaced the real one at his own request, and no one had any reason to distrust him even if the situation was extremely strange. After a while, she'd got tired of keeping the cemetery plot a secret from JiaJia for that one sad reason. After everything that had happened, people weren't so easily shocked anymore by stories like this, and Jiajia had promised never to tell anyone.
So now, there was no need to keep any of this incredible news from her.

The phone call stretches out, more static silence than speaking. Jiajia is just starting to process it, and Li Qian feels like she’s going through it all over again, in sympathy. They’re both afraid to fully believe it.
After a couple of minutes, they manage to continue the conversation. They want to see Professor Shen as soon as they can find a way, wondering out loud how to contact him. His office is gone, his apartment is gone, and Li Qian only knows he’s staying with Zhao Yunlan. The real one. They don’t have his personal contact info, of course - the SID and Lin Jing are their most direct connection.

Xinyan is also in touch with Da Qing, though - once she gets Li Qian’s message, she could text him or at least look into it at work to find out what’s going on.

Not too long after Shen Wei had died, Da Qing came back to see her again.

He’d been a mess, begging disjointedly for Xinyan's help to make sure he remembered everything, always.

A lot of people had suffered a lot of tragedy during the recent fighting in the city, so his distress didn’t come as much of a surprise. She was sure he needed to talk to someone, seeming to be almost beside himself with grief – and she’d tried to recommend an actual psychologist. But he didn't seem receptive to the idea of talking to a stranger, and then when she’d mentioned Shen Wei, hesitantly offhand, heartbroken over him herself, wondering if maybe they’d been friends - he really lost it for a while.
She slowly got up and locked the door, letting her own tears flow freely while he seemed to completely unravel on the couch.

She let him stay, then – here was someone else who’d known Shen Wei well enough to cry himself hoarse over his death.

After Da Qing had exhausted himself and caught his breath, they talked about Shen Wei a little, Xinyan trying to be the first one to open up.

She decided to stick her neck out a little and ask if he knew whether Shen Wei had been Dixingren. Worst case, he might scoff and deny it.

Da Qing went a bit quiet and said, “Why do you ask – would it bother you if he was?”

Relief and regret twisted inside her. They'd never been able to talk about this.
She didn't quite smile, murmuring, “Not at all – it would just make sense. He’d always been different – so lost in some of the strangest ways, when we’d first met, and even years later.”

His eyes widened a bit when she added, “I’ve known others, too, although for most of my life I didn’t know why they were different or where they were from. I have absolutely nothing against them. I just never – Shen Wei never seemed to want to talk about his past much at all, and I didn’t want to pry.

He was one, wasn’t he?”

Da Qing nodded subtly.

“Are you, as well?” He shook his head slowly, looking down. “But you knew about him.”

He nodded again.

Her heart twisted again, empty, around itself. Shen Wei would forgive her, wouldn’t he, if Da Qing told her, now, some of the things he’d kept from her before?
She should have asked him directly herself, but it was too late for that.

She told Da Qing: they first met in a library.

Xinyan was getting in some early studying for entrance exams and looking for a dark, quiet corner to focus in when her attention was completely diverted by a young man sitting in a beam of sunlight, eyes closed and face upturned like a napping cat. His relaxed state contrasted so deeply with the massive pile of books in front of him that she couldn’t help sitting at the brightly lit table to satisfy her curiosity. He turned slowly at the faint sound of her chair scraping on the floor, mouth twitching with the hint of a smile and a blinking, owl-like gaze.

She quietly introduced herself, they started to make small talk, and his shy, sincere demeanor along with what seemed like utter bafflement with the world around him hooked her completely. He seemed so sweet, and so lost.

Xinyan learned quickly that he wanted to go to school, but had no idea yet how to make that happen. His reading pile didn’t center on any particular topic, or even college applications – it seemed to be split into sections from the two aisles closest to the table.

In her element, she gave him pages of notes on her recent experience and a copy of the long to-do list she still had to get through herself in order to get into DCU. The application documents seemed to terrify him, but she didn’t think anything of it at the time – who wasn’t intimidated by these things?

He seemed to always be at the library no matter when she went – so they studied together frequently, though she could never quite pin down exactly what he was focusing on. He always seemed to want to change the subject when she asked- telling her that there wasn’t anything he didn’t want to learn. She tried to suggest that spreading himself too thin might be exhausting, and that he’d have to pick a major soon enough. He didn’t seem at all worried about that, though, so she eventually let it go.
They never met anywhere but the library or a nearby café, so she didn’t know where he left to go home to, afterward. He never talked about his life outside. But soon enough, acceptance letters came in, financial aid got sorted, and they were both there on move-in day at the DCU dorms.

And then over the years while they got to know each other better, she’d just picked up on strange things that accumulated over time.
He was never sick, would disappear at odd times but seemed to have no social life, never really gave any details about his past. And still even after a couple of years would have the weirdest gaps in knowledge – which he’d started coming to her for, since he seemed to know he could trust her with the strange questions.
It hadn’t taken her long to realize that he didn’t show this side of himself in front of their other acquaintances at school.

And one time when she’d gotten a horrible case of food poisoning, he’d visited with homemade soup, a thin broth that miraculously didn't turn her battered stomach. She’d been nearly delirious, but after his half-day visit she recovered strangely fast – much faster than should have been possible. He’d asked her about it afterwards, and his surprise at her quick recovery had seemed a little forced. She already knew by then he was a terrible liar, but she also had no intention of prying into something he clearly didn’t want to share. She’d known since childhood that some people just carried a bit of strangeness, usually nothing threatening, who also usually managed to be better in general at blending in than Shen Wei.

When she finally learned about Dixing, as the world was falling apart around them, it just all started to fall into place in her head. And she'd known, immediately. It would fit so well. It wouldn’t explain Shen Wei's unusual personality, necessarily, but it would explain just about everything else.

Da Qing seemed to hang onto every word she spoke about Shen Wei's past, their past, when they’d been in school together, but he also seemed to be trying very hard to keep something back.

After she finished he sat, subdued, for a minute before responding almost in a whisper.

“I knew him for a long time. A long time. It’s a complicated story, but – we knew each other before the end of the last war. Before Dixing and Haixing were formally separated. I knew him even before Lao -” his face twisted as he choked on the words.

She was a little confused about the specific time period he was referring to, but somehow still knew who he was referring to.

“Chief Zhao?”

He curled in even further on himself.

She said, cautiously, “I know he was in the hospital for a while afterward, but haven’t heard anything since. I – there wasn’t much time, but I think – he and Shen Wei were very close, weren’t they? How is he holding up?”

To her surprise, he folded nearly in half and started sobbing into his knees.

Her stomach dropped. “Oh no – is he not okay? What happened?”

“No he isn’t - that –

- that wasn’t him."

Now she was definitely confused. The situation was clearly even worse than she'd realized.
Da Qing shuddered, struggling to get control over his breathing to speak. He looked up at her, seeming to assess something for a moment before taking a shaky breath.

It’s a -a long story. That person is - he’s good. But he’s someone else. He – "

Da Qing whimpered softly. "How do I explain this?

Xinyan sat there, silent, baffled.

He asked, "How much time do you have?”

When Xinyan listens to the message from Li Qian, she nearly walks into a wall.

After finding a chair to drop into and replay the recording 3 more times because how could she be saying what it sounds like she’s saying - she immediately texts Da Qing, then goes in search of evidence of the hospital visit.

There is no record of anyone like Shen Wei being admitted, but it turns out to be true that Zhao Yunlan was an inpatient for several days. She finds the ones who were on duty in that ward at the time and asks who visited him – they describe a large group of people who lingered at first, and then one that stayed for days before Zhao Yunlan woke up - and then they took off without proper discharge. Heart hammering, she shows them an old photo of Shen Wei that she’s kept on her phone. They confirm that it was the same person.

Her head goes fuzzy for a bit – someone helps her back to another chair, and she’s still stunned when her phone finally buzzes with a response from Da Qing. He apologizes profusely, saying that it’s all true and that he was just too preoccupied by the chaos that led up to it to update her, but confirms they’re both alive and seem healthy, physically at least.

Hands shaking, Xinyan asks for him to let her know when things are settled enough that she could see him.

She can hardly believe she’s typing these words.

Da Qing says he’ll do even better – he’s willing to bet anything that Lao Zhao is going to demand that Shen Wei finally carry a cellphone. Da Qing will give her his number as soon as it’s activated and she can call him herself.

Xinyan finally breaks down at the thought, crying so hard that some unknown, sympathetic person finds an entire tissue box to push into her hands.

“So tell me about the fish tank.”

He looks over at Shen Wei, who is sitting in the passenger seat of Zhang Shi’s very bland, very functional car.

“What about it?” Shen Wei asks, tilting his head slightly. Zhao Yunlan has to tear his eyes away from Shen Wei’s beautiful, blank gaze to keep his focus on the road.

No – blank isn’t the right word. It used to look blank, when he was trying too hard to hide things Zhao Yunlan wanted to know but wasn’t ready to understand.

It’s not blank – it’s a listening look. an observing look.

It’s also definitely more genuinely relaxed than it ever was before – before.

Now, when he deflects a direct question from Zhao Yunlan, his expression tends to be poorly masked amusement, itself a thin veil over a well of deep affection that anyone could see from across a room.

He flicks another glance back over, never able to look away for long.

“Hm? You know, I was just a little surprised that it’s the first thing we’re setting up. I vaguely remember the one you used to have, in the old office – but I don’t think it ever came up.”

Shen Wei doesn’t answer right away, looking down at the box in his lap. Zhao Yunlan gets the sudden feeling it might sound like he’s complaining about Shen Wei’s old tendency to keep things from him, to take responsibility for anything not tied down, really, which is absolutely not true.

He looks over, again, saying, “Not that there was a lot of time for that,” and reaches over to squeeze Shen Wei’s hand, smoothing a thumb over his knuckles.

Setting up a new fish tank takes a surprising amount of stuff, not to mention coordination. There are bottles of water in the back seat that have been conditioned and waiting for hours, never mind all the bags of fresh plants, gravel, a whole pile of little boxes, bottles of chemicals, cleaning tools, and food, and then the fish themselves – packed in multiple bags in the cardboard box currently held in Shen Wei’s lap.

Zhao Yunlan is driving very carefully – not sure whether it’s sensitivity to Shen Wei’s gentle handling of the little animals, or to his own mood.

Zhang Shi’s car is also much lower to the ground than his old, long-gone jeep, and handles very differently. He’d joked weakly about incompatibility, but doesn’t really find himself missing the garish thing at all.

They arrive before Shen Wei has a chance to respond. Zhao Yunlan grabs a few bags to sling over each shoulder; Shen Wei carries the fish, box now in the large glass tank, and they head in to find his new office. Inside, some books have been dropped off already along with his old desk, which had luckily made it into the hands of another instructor who was happy to return it - and there’s a bit of generic furniture that every office on campus seems to have, but there’s still a lot of empty space.

Shen Wei puts the tank down on a bland, functional university-issue side table, and smiles at Zhao Yunlan as he sets the bags down carefully at one end.

He finally says, “My old teacher always kept fish. It was …something that immediately captivated me, when I first came in as a student.

I was still very new to modern Haixing - perpetually anxious, pretending to be a lifelong resident of this hectic place full of unfamiliar things.”

Zhao Yunlan has already pushed the door mostly closed, walked back over and wrapped himself around Shen Wei, humming into his neck to indicate that he’s listening. Shen Wei’s arms loosely encircle his waist, squeezing gently.

“And I- it was immediately obvious how similar everyone here looked, to how you had when I first saw you. I had to be able to stay. I had to be able to look for you.”

“I couldn’t allow myself to be caught, but I didn’t want to have to manipulate anyone to avoid suspicion, either. There was so much to learn while somehow not attracting too much attention to myself. I was trying so hard to pull off the lie so I could just exist here, first just at all, and eventually as a student. It was very stressful.”

“My new advisor’s office fish tank had been very noticeably calming to look at. It was something he was always happy to talk about, and he’d let me just sit and watch during what I’m sure he noticed was a really rough time for me. He could have asked much more intrusive questions - I hinted at a turbulent home life that I’d just left behind - but he said he wouldn’t pry as long as I seemed to be sleeping and eating enough, and keeping my grades up.”

He sighs, pressing his face into Zhao Yunlan’s collar.

“And he let me watch his fish. He’d eventually allowed me to start helping with the maintenance, as well – so. Once I finally got my own position as an instructor, with my own office, it had seemed like an obvious choice.”

Zhao Yunlan hums against his neck. “There’s still so much about you that I don’t know.”

“You know me pretty well by now. That’s a minor detail.”

“Yes, but it’s you. It’s your life, your personality. That means everything to me. I’m really looking forward to learning more.”

Shen Wei turns in towards him and he meets him halfway, pressing their mouths together gently for a moment, then pulling back as something suddenly occurs to him.

“Oh - you know, we can get another tank to keep at home, if you want. That’d be nice, wouldn’t it?”

Shen Wei’s answering smile makes his heart stutter.

“The water’s still in the car – one more trip?”

Li Qian had been a coward and texted instead of calling, to say hello and offer to bring Professor Shen's things in to his new office at the university. She got the number from Lin Jing, who had updated her on everything and told her that he was already aware of a few people who might contact him through it.

He’d never had a cellphone before. It’s so surreal – it honestly doesn’t feel real to her. Like she’ll show up at the school and there won’t be any new office. If she asks anyone they’ll look at her sideways, and if they even know who Professor Shen was, they’ll remind her he’s been dead for the better part of 2 years.

After a text from Jiajia confirming that she’s already there, Li Qian, still feeling very unsure, packs her rarely used car with boxes and drives over to the school. Jiajia is already waiting outside on the steps grinning madly when she pulls up. She’s nearly bouncing in place.

“I’ve already been in to say hello – you’ll have them to yourself once we get this stuff inside.” She starts to turn, then comes around again, arms wide.

“It’s him! He’s back- he’s really back!” She does start bouncing then, grabbing Li Qian’s elbows and shaking them a little.

“He looks so happy – they both look so happy – gah, I can’t stand it!” They both laugh, Li Qian’s stomach shivering slightly with nerves.

They carry a box each up the steps and down a couple of turns to a room that belonged to a recently retired instructor – one of several who’d left soon after the strange battle in the city almost 2 years ago.

Jiajia knocks on the office doorway, pausing only briefly. Li Qian’s heart is in her throat. A familiar voice, one she suspected she’d already started to have difficulty remembering, calls them in.

Professor Shen and Chief Zhao are standing at a narrow table, sleeves rolled up – they seem to be …setting up a fish tank.

She stops just inside the door, box in her hands forgotten.

It’s him. It’s them. They’re here, standing right in front of her, smiling. Dripping water on the hardwood floor.

After a prolonged moment the white noise in her head starts to clear - Chief Zhao’s smile is broad, but looks a bit sad. Professor Shen’s smile is concerned, forehead pinching a little. He puts the dripping plant in his hand down on a plastic bag, murmuring her name.

It’s too surreal. Her nerves are telling her this can’t be trusted.

They were gone.
She doesn’t even know how many times she’s visited their gravestone in the cemetery with Xinyan, it’s been so long.

She hadn’t seen it happen, but she’d heard. They’d both died in such horrible ways.
It’d been terrible enough that Lin Jing couldn’t even make it all the way through, when he’d tried to tell her what he’d seen.

Professor Shen – he’d been – and her suggestion for helping Chief Zhao had ruined his natural defenses. And Chief Zhao – he gave his own life up almost immediately after. They went down there, and never came back.

But they’re here now, somehow?

It would be so amazing, if it didn’t feel so discordant.

She opens her mouth to respond to Professor Shen, but the words don’t come out. He steps forward quickly to take the box out of her hands, and Chief Zhao guides her toward the one chair in the room. Is she dizzy? Did she forget to breathe? It’s difficult to tell.
Jiajia is there suddenly, squeezing her hand and looking intensely sympathetic. “Slow, deep breaths, okay? Where are your keys? I’ll work on the boxes.”

She tries to focus on her breathing rhythm; after a minute or two, when her vision stops threatening to go fuzzy, she glances up again. The collar of her shirt is wet and cold; she can feel tears leaking down her throat. Professor Shen and Chief Zhao are looking at her with concern, but standing very close to each other, hips bumping, leaning in. The Chief’s arm is loosely wrapped around Professor Shen’s waist, and he’s saying something quietly in his ear. Professor Shen turns towards him and responds, his face so close they could almost - oh.
This is – they really were. They are.

She’d wondered about the shared stone. Had wondered aloud, a couple of times, deep in reminiscing with Xinyan. She hadn’t known for sure – had seen the signs, and so had Xinyan - and they had both been so sad that there just hadn’t been enough time to catch up with him in the last months before he’d suddenly died.

Chief Zhao nods subtly and leaves the room. Professor Shen bends down, murmuring, “He’s going to get you some water. Are you feeling okay? How have you been?

“I – I brought your things back,” she says, unnecessarily.

He smiles brightly at her, and it hurts to see.

“Yes I know – thank you for keeping them.”

Chief Zhao comes back with a cup of water and Jiajia comes back with another box. She starts to feel a little better after a few minutes just sitting there, getting used to seeing them in front of her, alive and healthy, moving, breathing, clearly happy, like Jiajia had said - if still getting over the shock.
Clearly in love, and a little drunk on each others’ presence.

Jiajia works fast – the boxes are all in before she’s ready even to make another trip, so they start unpacking. There are lots of books and loose files, and luckily the office came with a couple of bookshelves - but there are also a few boxes of framed photos.

Chief Zhao pulls one out and stops moving entirely. He stands there, face blank, for a moment, then says “I remember this…”

The frame in his hands holds an inked illustration of a bear.

Li Qian feels oddly caught out – she says, cheeks burning a little, “After taking everything home and looking through it all, I – I noticed the set of bear illustrations hidden in a file folder were original drawings. Unsigned. And I – I had a feeling that you’d made them yourself.”

Professor Shen looks a little embarrassed, smiling and glancing down at his shoes, blushing silently.

She says, starting to feel mortified, “I hope you don’t mind – they’re so nice, and they were yours – I couldn’t just leave them packed away.”

Chief Zhao puts the frame down on the desk and pulls two more from the box to line up next to it. There are several, all of them clearly handled carefully.

Chief Zhao is looking a little strangely at Professor Shen. “You drew these?” He’s got a complicated expression on his face.

Professor Shen stammers out something about how the libraries sucked him in entirely when he first arrived, and he read about a thousand different subjects while he studied, and then when he started working as a teacher. And somewhere in the middle of all that he learned that he just – just really likes bears.

“They’re especially fascinating,” he manages to say with an absurdly earnest look on his face.

Chief Zhao laughs – a huff followed by a squinting smile as his shoulders twitch and he ducks his head, shaking it. His arm comes up and he squeezes Professor Shen’s shoulder, leaning in a little. When he looks up at him again, his eyes are definitely wet.

“Aah, Shen Wei. Xiao Wei – you are – Hah. Ah, god, I love you.” He laughs again, louder and longer this time, hooking his arm around Professor Shen’s shoulders and pulling him closer.

Li Qian feels her cheeks heat a little, and looks at Jiajia who looks both emotional and confused. Chief Zhao seems to notice and promises, grinning wide and wiping his eyes, to try to explain to them later, saying he knows they’ll enjoy hearing it.

They pull the rest of the drawings out and look at them – Chief Zhao wonders aloud which ones would look best on the wall in this new office.
Professor Shen insists that Li Qian keep one.
The Chief agrees, and insists that he hang at least 2 or 3 on his office walls, and that they are absolutely hanging the rest at home, pointing out that their new house will have more wall space to decorate, even if it has a big fish tank, and this is non-negotiable.

Chapter Text

It’s a tough decision to make, but Shen Wei and Zhao Yunlan decide, finally, to not elope, and hold their wedding in a scenic spot in the northwest. As far as they can tell, it isn’t too far from where they met for Shen Wei’s first time, where they’d spent months getting to know each other, in a way - something Zhao Yunlan also gets very nostalgic over.

They’ve taken another rental SUV up to check it out, pay deposits and sign the contracts, bringing nearly half the SID along just for the hell of it.

The drive is nothing like their last time up here; the landscape looks completely different. The weather is clear- it's a great day, really, though they can see each other wrestling with emotions that keep bubbling up.

The place they’re renting doesn’t have a huge clearing, but there’s a great fire pit, their group of friends is small enough, the view down the mountainside is amazing, and the lodge is big enough to hold everyone comfortably for hours in the common space if the weather’s uncooperative.

Da Qing takes off wandering, saying he wants to see if he can remember anything from before. Shen Wei thinks out loud that it’s highly unlikely – only the really large rock formations might possibly still look something like their former selves.

Chu Shuzhi asks, “You’re really going to camp up here for a week, afterward? Winter’s barely over.”

Zhao Yunlan shrugs, hands shoved in his pockets, and smiles around at the tree line.

“We’ll be hiking a lot, so it makes sense - I’d hardly call it camping, anyway. We’re renting a cabin up on the trails, and it’s got a wood stove - plumbing - hot water for showers, even.

He looks at over at Shen Wei, who’d just come back outside to join them – “Can you imagine, if we’d had plumbing back then?”
Shen Wei groans almost imperceptibly, mouth twitching in a smile as he turns, looking around them, down toward the valley.

Zhao Yunlan closes the remaining distance and runs his hand down and up Shen Wei’s back, remembering long hair that he’d had so few opportunities to touch, the months they'd lived out here.

Xiao Guo reappears from somewhere, talking quietly to Chu Shuzhi. He can only half hear what they’re saying, but Xiao Guo seems to be complaining about something, or someone, it sounds like. Zhao Yunlan turns a little and just catches it – it’s something about his aunt.

“- and she thinks if it goes well that I should bring her up here, too – no, but I really do have to go. Thursday, after work.”

Chu Shuzhi frowns at him, muttering, “You don’t have to do it.”
Xiao Guo purses his lips, shaking his head.

“It’s fine, I’ll just go meet this person once, so she doesn’t give me a hard time later. Don’t worry about it, it’s fine –“

“You sure?”
Xiao Guo nods, mumbling, “I’m going back in – it’s a little cold.”

Zhao Yunlan watches him walk away, mouth hanging slightly open. He turns to Chu Shuzhi.

“Did I just hear that correctly? Xiao Guo’s aunt wants to – set him up with someone?”

Chu Shuzhi sort of rolls his eyes at him somehow without moving.

“For what? A date? For – for this?” He points at the ground, waves his arm around a little.

“Why are you – why is he – what are you doing? Why aren’t you just coming together? Why is he being sent out on a date with someone?”

Chu Shuzhi’s face reddens a little – this may be the first time Zhao Yunlan’s ever seen that happen.

He mutters, “I’m not – we - we’re just friends. We’re not - we’re not a thing.”

Zhao Yunlan is completely gobsmacked. Even Shen Wei turns to stare at Chu Shuzhi now, no longer even feigning polite disinterest.

Zhao Yunlan turns his free hand up, gesturing in disbelief. “Well why the fuck not?”

Chu Shuzhi looks at his feet, actually scuffing one against the dirt.

“I – I don’t think – he wouldn’t – ”

Zhao Yunlan cannot believe this shit.

“No, look. I know. Everyone knows. We’ve known since before – for years now. Are you telling me you don’t see it?” He looks over at Shen Wei for a moment, a strange combination of emotions running together through him.

“Lao Chu – back in Dixing, in that hut, didn’t we –” he flails both arms in front of him for a moment. “Didn’t we just talk about this – about telling people things while you still can?”

Chu Shuzhi rolls his neck, frowning a little exaggeratedly, but is clearly just reluctant to give up whatever stubborn thing he’s been thinking.

Zhao Yunlan steps forward, shifting his weight, and raises his arm to horizontal, pointing in the direction that Xiao Guo had taken off in.

“Chu Shuzhi. You go after him right now. Don’t waste any more time.”

Chu Shuzhi looks at him, mouth flattened in a thin line. His fists clench and he stalks off stiffly.

Zhao Yunlan pulls Shen Wei closer and yells after him, “You two are coming to the wedding together or not at all, you hear me!?”