Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Ten years.

It’d been ten years since that day. Time was strange here, behind the gate; sometimes he felt like he’d been here an eternity, adrift on the endless sea, barely even remembering who he himself was, and other times, he felt like it was only yesterday that he’d left Wu Xie at the hot spring, vividly remembering that flash of comprehension crossing Wu Xie’s face — ever so transparent — before he knocked him out as gently as possible.

用我一生, 换你十年天真无邪

My lifetime, in exchange for you a decade of innocence and purity. ¹

He never spoke the words aloud, but it was this resolution that kept him grounded, kept him remembering.

Home.

Never before in his long life had he been able to grasp the meaning of the word. He understood it, conceptually, had known it was a place of safety, of comfort for people, a place where one returned to. But it wasn’t until Wu Xie came along, with all his irrational, impulsive, and quite frankly, often plain idiotic tendencies that he even began to feel something that wasn’t sadnessangerpain, which were themselves long forgotten as well. 

Most people would call Wu Xie foolish. Actually, everyone, including himself early on, often did consider Wu Xie quite foolish. After all, only a fool would stand next to a god and naively think himself on the same level.

I need to save Xiaoge!

He couldn’t recall how many times Wu Xie said that over the years, not realizing he was never that far away and in no real danger. The first couple of times, he barely gave it a passing thought. The statement simply registered as ‘unnecessary’, and if Wu Xie believed otherwise, that was his problem. Later, it brought him a mixture of amusement and mild annoyance — that this wet-behind-the-ears youth thought he needed saving when he himself was getting saved constantly was inconvenient and rather laughable, especially if he then had to save Wu Xie again thanks to the latter trying to ‘save’ him. Yet, perhaps it was out of a sense of obligation — that it wouldn’t do to have someone endanger themselves out of concern for him, however misplaced that was — that he soon found himself keeping tabs on the young man when they parted (or rather, when he disappeared on them).

At some point, the feeling of amusement and ire became replaced by something unfamiliar, but not unwelcome. He couldn’t describe it as warm, although when he later understood this feeling, he wasn’t sure why anyone referred to this as warm , since the only feelings he associated with temperatures were anger or anxiety. Rather, it was something calming, steadying, and something like a mental breath of fresh air after he’d been breathing in fumes for so long that he’d forgotten the air could even be that fresh. 

It grounded him. It connected him. And at last, he understood.

It was home.²

And after ten years, there was somewhere he longed to be.

Zhang Qiling wasn’t a man that dwelled on a lot of ‘what-ifs’ or hypotheticals except for what was purely required for strategic or tactical planning. Still, even he couldn’t help but wonder what he’d see when he stepped out of the gate.

Wu Xie, teary-eyed, latching onto him the moment he walked out? Wu Xie, right on the cusp of danger, conveniently timed for him to step in? Wu Xie, angry that he’d been left behind all those years ago? Wu Xie, fast asleep and drooling on some nearby rock, face drawn into a pout, likely dreaming of how upset he’d be at him?

No… ten years. He’s grown. Matured, he thought, a little wistful that the naive youth he’d known might have changed, but confident that the man he’d become would still be his one connection to the world.³

That Wu Xie might have forgotten, or chosen not to come welcome him back never crossed his mind. Even though he'd pressed that ghost seal into Wu Xie's hands, explaining for him to come find him in ten years' time if he remembered him, there was never any doubt in his heart that the other would.⁴

But when he finally stepped out of the gate, he was greeted by none of those sights. For the first time in a long time, Zhang Qiling felt a deluge of coldness wash over him.

He stared at the aged, exhausted, and defeated face of Pangzi before him and demanded, “Where’s Wu Xie? ”

Pangzi’s gaze flickered from the brooding figure standing in the doorway to the bowl of untouched rice on the table and sighed. “You’ll need something for sustenance, unless you actually cultivated into an immortal behind that gate of yours.⁵” At this, Pangzi suddenly paused and contemplated the ironic potential for truth behind his poor attempt at a joke. He opened his mouth to share this profound discovery with— he stopped, expression immediately shuttering.

He ran a hand through messy locks — he really could do with a proper shower — and gave a weary sigh. Ten years . This was not how any of them had imagined their ten years later to look like.

They were supposed to go up together for Xiaoge. He wasn’t supposed to be there, alone, as Xiaoge stepped through those mystic bronze gates. He could still see it — the rare, warm gaze instantly cooling when it was evident that the person it was reserved for wasn’t present.

“Where’s Wu Xie?” had been Xiaoge’s first words to him after ten years. Any other time, and he would have made a wisecrack at it — What is Pangye, eh? Yesterday’s celebrity news? It wasn’t the first time, nor would it be the last. Pangzi knew better than anyone, had front-row seats to the phenomenon that was the Tianzhen-Xiaoge two-body orbit. (He’d often joke that thank god he was there, because only with Pangye around were they an unpredictable force, and without him, the other two would become boringly predictable, committed to an endless orbit of Tianzhen chasing Xiaoge, and Xiaoge having to save Tianzhen forevermore). 

But all the humor had drained away from him.

“...we don’t know,” he settled for simply after a beat, the guilt, frustration, and self-blame all clamoring inside but wilting at Xiaoge’s — not accusing, but worried? — eyes. Xiaoge gave no response, evidently wanting him to explain more.

“We were supposed to meet up a week ago and come here. But he wasn’t there. At Wushanju, he wasn’t there. We were supposed to meet up, but he just wasn’t there.” Pangzi explained helplessly.

He recounted the frenzied search after — flipping over every book and piece of paper for clues, checking every nook and cranny, calling up all their acquaintances, including Er Shu, whose visceral reaction of confusion and concern to hearing the news couldn’t have been faked. And if Er Shu didn’t have any inkling… But Wushanju was still clean, with no signs of struggle, no signs of premeditated departure (and how could that be? There was nothing that could have Wu Xie willingly delaying his fulfilment of his promise to Xiaoge). He hadn’t packed any clothes, any personal belongings… even his cell phone was sitting innocently on his nightstand. It was as if Wu Xie had simply disappeared.

After the quick account, he looked up at Xiaoge, searching his gaze in hope of a miracle and ventured to ask in trepidation, “Xiaoge, do you…?”

He regretted it the moment the words left his mouth.

It was still subtle, but it was the most anguish he’d ever seen Xiaoge express as the latter regretfully shook his head.

Pangzi exhaled noisily through his nose and decided that he might as well go have that shower now.

Tomorrow… tomorrow they’d be flying back to Hangzhou. Tomorrow, they would start from scratch, list out all their potential enemies and their motives, go over every inch of possible clue with Xiaoge.

There was no way Wu Xie left voluntarily. Nothing would have deterred him willingly away from Xiaoge.

Chapter Text

He eyed the full ashtray with a hint of disdain, which Wang Meng, who was passing by, misconstrued for the mess. Wang Meng pursed his lips, then wordlessly grabbed the bin from nearby, dumped the ashtray, and swept the table clean of ashes in one smooth movement. The bin dropped to the floor with an audible thunk, but when he glanced up, the other man was already walking away.

Pangzi had just walked in and raised a brow at the exchange, looking briefly towards the direction Wang Meng disappeared. Then, turning back and noticing him continue to glare at the now empty ashtray, Pangzi gruffly let out, “It hasn’t been an easy ten years.”

And so it would seem. Wu Xie had always had a bad habit of smoking¹, but a quick scan of the pile told him it had worsened over time. His chest seized at the revelation. Slowly, he let his gaze meet Pangzi’s, the silent question hanging heavy in the air. Pangzi responded by plopping down on the couch next to him and lighting a cigarette.

“You know you always had a bad feeling about San Shu? Or Xie Lianhuan, I guess?”

He nodded. That man, whichever version it was, was cause for much grief for him, with all the vexing connections to the gaps in his memories, as well as for Wu Xie, who had never suffered such betrayal before.² Although he didn’t quite hold a grudge towards the person — not that he held much of a grudge towards anyone — there were too many mysteries about the man that did not sit comfortably with him, especially where it concerned Wu Xie. For Wu Sanxing, Wu Xie was a chess piece; he just didn’t know yet which. Perhaps the man did care for his nephew in his own way, but it wasn’t one which he trusted.

Pangzi nodded. “Yeah well… I guess your spidey senses were really spot on, as always. And it goes beyond that. Him and Tianzhen’s gramps were quite the nasty buggers. Actually, the whole lot of ‘em Old Nine geezers. For his own good, pei³ ! What utter horseshit.” Pangzi spat, indignation flaring up then ebbing away just as quickly, giving way to another lengthy exhale of smoke. “You knew they were using him for something,” the other confirmed, gaze snapping up to meet his.

He dipped his head in acknowledgment. 

“How much do you recall about the Wang family?”

After two hours of non-stop narration, filled with 80% information and 20% references that he didn’t really understand — what was S and M?⁴ — Pangzi declared he needed a drink and sauntered out of Wushanju in search of some, leaving him alone to process all the information.

Not all of it was new. Actually, most of it wasn’t. He’d known about the presence in the shadows that was the Wang family, even if he’d forgotten the name until now. The omniscient force that had guided their path like a marionettist masterfully executing their every move — he’d always felt it hanging around them like a foul stench that couldn’t quite be placed and escaped them every time they turned their heads. The centuries long conflict between their families was the missing backdrop to this familiar dance.⁵

He’d known more… the feeling that he finally grasped a lot of these answers was a lingering aftertaste in the back of his mouth, but when he reached for it, it all slipped away again. His memories were like water, and his struggle was always the inability to retain more than a handful at a time.

The puzzle fragments rearranged themselves in his mind, bits and pieces flashing forward, only to be overcome by another question and subsequently another answer. On and on they swiveled around him like a carousel flashing rapidly in the dark. It hurt to think about. Although he could recall the sensation of clarity prior to his entering the Bronze Gate, it now eluded him once more — or perhaps they were never truly there to begin with? And now they hovered tauntingly, ghosting in and out in front him. He wasn’t sure which were unanswered questions and which were simply forgotten answers.⁶

He knew not to grasp too desperately at these drifting strings of memory though; they’d come if they could, and never really through sheer will.

In any case, these weren’t the information he needed at present. 

I need something that can help me find Wu Xie.

The following day was a bittersweet reunion of sorts.

A random man he didn’t know — Kan Jian — had promptly burst into tears upon seeing him — You must bring laoban⁷ back! He could only awkwardly pat the other on the back before Pangzi took pity on him and pried the sniffling man off of him, muttering something about how the other man had never even met Wu Xie before, and what kind of weirdos did Pan Shu attract when he was alive.⁸

He scanned the room, making contact with each person, acknowledging their presence — Hei Xiazi, the scion of the Xie family, Wang Meng, the man who cried too easily aka Kan Jian, and of course, Pangzi. 

“It’s good to finally have you back, Yaba⁹ Zhang. I’ve missed our heart to hearts,” Hei Xiazi teased, clapping a hand on his shoulder a tad longer than he was comfortable with, but smartly withdrawing it before it earned any glares from him. “Wish it were under more pleasant circumstances though,” the man followed up a bit more seriously.

He ignored the remark and the way it induced another pang in his chest and pointedly stared at Pangzi.

Pangzi, who was probably the second person after Wu Xie capable of reading his micro-expressions, clearly caught on to his quickly souring — or as souring as one could get with his temperament — mood and clapped his hands once to get everyone’s attention.

“Right. So we made a list of potential suspects,” Pangzi spoke, pushing forward a piece of paper with names and notes. He scanned the list quickly, mentally eliminating the unlikely candidates in accordance with his own knowledge base of motives, MOs, and capabilities. His eyes then settled on the loathsome 汪 character representing their past decades — and for his family, centuries — of turmoil. His mind drifted back to Pangzi’s narration last night, how Wu Xie had planned everything two steps ahead, how he’d successfully deceived the puppetmaster by leveraging a completely unknown outsider — Li Cu, was his name. As Pangzi spoke, he felt a simultaneous swell of pride at all that Wu Xie achieved and a profound sense of loss over what Wu Xie had given up in the process.

My lifetime, in exchange for you a decade of innocence and purity. Yet in the end, it wasn’t enough, was it? And suddenly, he could see it — Wu Xie, at the end of it all, finally finding release, finally letting the tears go after donning the suffocating mask for so so long — and his heart ached, yanking his focus back to that one despicable word.

“As you all probably know, there’s good reason for us to suspect the Wang family. Tianzhen just Luke Skywalker’ed their Death Star, and now some really old geezer is probably hot on our ass for revenge.”

“Direct engagement isn’t exactly their MO though,” Xie Yuchen pointed out, to which Pangzi tutted. He silently agreed though; this wasn’t their style.

“Stir up the hornet’s nest enough, and even the good doctor turns into the Hulk,” Pangzi retorted, though the reference was once again entirely lost on him.

“You think the remainder of Wang family’s forces, with the core of their power now stripped, can overtake Wu Xie? Aren’t you underestimating him a bit? Or did you forget just who it was that pushed them into their current abysmal state?” Xie Yuchen continued, crossing his arms and feeling slightly affronted on his childhood friend’s behalf. 

Pangzi held up his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, I’d be the first to testify to little Tianzhen’s growth over these last few years.” Then, dropping his hands, he said more solemnly, “But I also know he’s not always as strong as he’s been projecting himself to be as of late. At his core, he’s still that little tianzhen who always seeks out the best in others, regardless of how many times that may bite his ass in return. This fight took a lot out of him.”

Watching the exchange, Zhang Qiling had an abrupt sense of being a stranger, of intruding on something, talking about someone he no longer had a right, a claim, to know. An image of Wu Xie, now older and with a harsh look in his eyes, weathered over years of hardship, sprung forward. And again, it dissolved into the image of Wu Xie, still older, yet still so terribly young, gripping something tightly as silent sobs shook his frame.

His attention drifted back just as Xie Yuchen opened his mouth to continue arguing. However, the latter was cut off by Hei Xiazi stepping in, “Hold up everyone. Are we so certain that there was foul play? I mean, Wu Xie didn’t just… take a little personal time or something?” And then seeing all the incredulous eyes on him — with a particularly heavy stare from Zhang Qiling — he coughed awkwardly and responded specifically to him, “Not saying that Wu Xie would intentionally miss out on your homecoming, of course…” Then to the broader audience, “...but is it possible he went somewhere willingly and just happened to get caught up in something unexpected? Maybe a quick gander at some small countryside tomb and got caught up in something silly?”

Pangzi snorted angrily. “Are we talking about the same person still? You think he would have up and left for any reason the month, let alone the week, Xiaoge was coming back? Ten years. Ten years he’s waited. You know what he’s been through,” he spat out so harshly that Zhang Qiling nearly winced. A coil of guilt formed in the pit of his stomach, and he couldn’t help but wonder if part of that vitriol might have been directed at him.

Never, a voice sounding a lot like Wu Xie’s echoed in his mind. Yet somehow, this thought only further twisted the guilt.

“I didn’t mean—” Hei Xiazi started with a sigh, holding up his hands placatingly.

This time, it was Xie Yuchen who cut in with “Enough. I understand Heiye’s point. We shouldn’t become too engrossed in one possibility and overlook other angles. Still,” and here, his eyes flickered to Zhang Qiling with mixed emotions, “I do have to agree with Pangzi here. Wu Xie’s been waiting too long for this.” Xie Yuchen continued to hold his stare, almost accusatory  — and how could he blame them? — for a couple of beats before tearing it away. “Plus, there’s the men we encountered on the mountain.“

Kan Jian and Wang Meng both frowned. “Those men that attacked us? Do you mean those men took laoban?” Kan Jian asked anxiously, recalling the ambushes they encountered en route to Changbai Mountain, while Wang Meng simply asked for an explanation.

But Xie Yuchen just shook his head slowly. “Not sure. When we were headed towards the mountain, there was a group of professionals that seemed to want to deter us from going. We had several close calls, but ultimately, we managed to escape them and made it to the Gate.”

“And they never showed up again?” Hei Xiazi asked with a raised brow.

Xie Yuchen paused, thinking something over. “I thought I sensed a presence again while we were at the Gate, but nothing happened. Afterwards, Xiaoge came out, and they didn’t appear again after that. At any rate, we didn’t see any sign of them on the way down.”

“How about you guys give us a full account of what happened?” Hei Xiazi offered. “Maybe we can find some different perspectives.”

And so Xie Yuchen and Pangzi launched into a full narrative of their journey up and down Changbai Mountain. They’d followed a deep crevice from the forest path, going off the knowledge from their previous trip up to the Heavenly Cloud Palace and using the traces of the ancient battleground to find their way. Halfway through, the monkeys and harpies appeared. This, they’d expected, and had prepared plenty of firepower for. (Granted, that was more of their plan B. Plan A was still to avoid the hell out of these creatures as best as possible.) However, what wasn’t expected was the addition of human interference. The sudden landslides and counter fire blocking off certain paths, forcing them onto less familiar ones — that was not something they’d anticipated. What was the other party aiming for?

Later, they caught sight of the other group among the harpies. At first, Pangzi thought he was hallucinating a full human among the sea of creepy humanoid birds. But then Xie Yuchen also caught on. Indeed, it didn’t seem like the monkeys or harpies were interested in attacking that group of people, which made no sense. At one point, they exchanged close range fire with the mysterious third party, but it didn’t appear like the latter was particularly concerned about seeing them dead. Yet at every turn, it seemed they were there — expertly leveraging the terrain and blocking off their path. If it weren’t for them accidentally stumbling their way into the tomb and vast waterway paths, they probably would have been properly blocked.

Zhang Qiling sat quietly, taking this all in. The harpies had been particularly troublesome for them the first time around; someone was able to slip in among them unharmed?

“How were these men dressed?” Wang Meng chimed in unexpectedly. And then, sensing the curious reaction to his question, he added with a shrug, “Laoban always took note of people’s clothing when trying to place them…”

Pangzi nodded. “Fair question, but not much there unfortunately. These losers weren’t exactly Vogue; all no-name brands, everything too run of the mill, and nothing super standardized among the lot either. So I suppose that eliminates the possibility of them working for Qiu Dekao’s parent organization — they always had top of the line stuff in full matching sets. You couldn’t count on them to not backstab you, but you could count on the quality of their equipment.”

Wang Meng sat back in his seat with a sigh, and Kan Jian started biting his nails in contemplation.

“You think it was the Wang family? They wanted something from the Gate? What, snap another piece off like some Kinder chocolate?” Pangzi pondered.

Xie Yuchen tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Why’d they back off then?”

Pangzi shrugged. “Circumstances changed. They were waiting for an opening but then — boom! Xiaoge entered center stage — and those motherfuckers knew they didn’t stand a chance anymore.”

“But what does this have to do with laoban’s disappearance?” Wang Meng asked dubiously. “What if it’s unrelated?”

A beat of silence.

“Xiaoge, what are your thoughts?” Pangzi asked him, the only person in the room who hadn’t said anything.

He felt the weight of all eyes on him, and wished — but was unable to — offer more. “It’s our most likely lead,” he finally let out. His own mind was already racing ahead with all the permutations of possibilities, cataloging the clues, however few they had, and approaching them from various angles.

Pangzi nodded grimly to that, and the rest of the group took that as cue to wrap up. “Right. I guess that’s all we have for now. I’ll look into these men and also sync up with Er Shu and see what he thinks—”

“I’ll ask around about the core Wang family members. Last I heard, they might have fled to the Russian border,” Xie Yuchen volunteered, to which Pangzi gave a thumbs up.

“I can check the nearby CCTV footage,” Hei Xiazi offered with a grin. “I know a person. Or persons. Who knows, maybe Wu Xie was generous enough to leave us a selfie.”

Xie Yuchen looked like he wanted to argue again, but settled for rolling his eyes and shaking his head instead. Hei Xiazi flashed him a cheeky smile and a peace sign.

“I can help!” Both Kan Jian and Wang Meng volunteered simultaneously. Startled, they looked at each other.

“Wow, I’m so popular!” Hei Xiazi exclaimed, pressing a palm dramatically to his chest. 

“I mean… I don’t think I’d be much help elsewhere, but I can at least watch CCTV footage,” Kan Jian explained sheepishly, scratching his head.

“I’m… probably useless elsewhere too…” Wang Meng admitted with a grimace, and nearly jumped when Pangzi dropped a hand heavily on his shoulder.

“The hell you on about? You’ve become a veritable spymaster now.” Then, dropping his voice to a volume where Zhang Qiling had to focus a bit to pick up, “Whatever happened between you two... well, you know his personality. When he gets back, the two of you can have a proper chat, hm? He needs you now, just like he needed you back then.” Zhang Qiling’s curiosity piqued at the exchange, but wasn’t able to ruminate on it before Pangzi patted Wang Meng’s shoulder a couple times and turned to face the rest of them.

“Alright, ok. Let’s do this. Kan Jian, since you went up the mountain too, you can help me with the mountain men. Wang Meng, you help Hei Yanjing with the footage. You’re pretty good at staring at a computer screen all day anyway, right?”

Wang Meng rolled his eyes a little irately at the jive, but nodded.

Pangzi nodded. “Then that’s settled. Let’s update each other of progress? And meet again once we find something of interest.”

As everyone was standing up to leave, Pangzi’s eyes found his. We will find Tianzhen, it conveyed. He could only nod in return.

After all, there was no alternative for him.

Chapter Text

“All of this?” Wang Meng echoed, slack-jawed at the number of files on the USB. “There must collectively be… 2000 plus hours in all these files!”

“Not a bad guess! A bit lowball — roughly 3200 to be exact.” Hei Xiazi corrected with a grin, leaning against the computer desk and taking glee at watching the other’s face pale.

“Where did you even get all of this footage?” Wang Meng muttered a bit dubiously.

Hei Xiazi just tutted, wagging a finger. “A tradesman doesn’t share his secrets~” he sang.

“I didn’t even know there was that much CCTV around Wushanju…” Wang Meng commented, a little disturbed now, scanning the room suspiciously.

Hei Xiazi just shrugged. “Well our government is aiming to make it such that you can’t even take a shit without them knowing. This is already the filtered pile of information.”

Wang Meng made a face.

“And OK, I did expand the search radius a tiny bit to capture all possible traffic stops in and out of the area. And included the places Wu Xie liked to frequent. And a lot of stops between here and Er Shu’s place. And sure, I may have broken into several cars parked nearby for this information too; those anti-theft devices nowadays are quite handy.”

“Clearly not from you….” Wang Meng mumbled, watching the computer estimate the size of the folder and heart sinking at the duration it was taking.

But Hei Xiazi just patted his back encouragingly. “Well, divide and conquer, right? You’ve got some helping hands for this kind of work? I find 2.5x speed works best for these kinds of things. Any more, and you might miss some important details. Any less, and your mind will probably numb out from boredom…  and you might miss some important details.” He stood up. “Well, let me know if you find anything. Just text!”

“Where are you going?” Wang Meng asked, still reeling at the daunting task in front of him. 

Hei Xiazi pulled out a cellphone and gave it a shake. “Gotta see what secrets our favorite Xiao Sanye¹ has been keeping from us!”

Wang Meng wanted to counter that it was unlikely the other would find much of anything; Wu Xie still kept to notebooks and pens more than he relied on technology, except to communicate. And again, that the cellphone was left behind and not simply destroyed gave Wang Meng the feeling that there was bound to be nothing useful there.

But before he could say anything, the other man was gone.

He sighed, and pulled out his own phone. “Lao Tao? Yeah, I’ve got a task for you....”

“They arrived in a different hotel in Erdao Baihe, two days before you arrived,” Er Jin, Wu Erbai’s right hand man, zoomed in on the hotel on the iPad. “I had some men ask around; they seem to have had limited interactions with the locals. The hotel staff figured they were just another tourist group. Not surprising, given how popular the area is this time of year. They ate, enjoyed the hot springs, asked around about some nice hiking paths… they really did play the part of regular tourists quite well. Part of the reason why it took us so long to dig up anything even though they were right around the corner.” Er Jin explained with a shake of his head.

“Shit,” Pangzi exclaimed, squinting at the information pop-up for the hotel. His eyes suddenly widened as he scrolled a bit. “Hey this hotel is way nicer than ours was! What is this… 5 stars? They even have their own hot springs? Damn, these clowns can dump so much cash on their lodging, but then have such basic wear for their actual job?”

“All we can conclude now is that one, they have a resourceful backer, two, they’re professional enough to have constant vigilance without arousing any suspicion, and three, they have suspicious tomb-raiding experience, or something that protected them from being immediately attacked by those creatures,” Er Jin summarized while swiping the screen over to a set of photos. 

Pangzi squinted at the photos. “Why are these photos so shoddy and blurry? Couldn’t we have gotten some better shots?”

Er Jin rolled his eyes. “You think we got these on a stakeout or something? Getting these was already difficult enough. We had to backtrace to all the other tourists who were there at the time and then sift through all their WeChat moments… Do you know how many selfies people take while on vacation?” Er Jin gave an exasperated shake of his head, then nudged with his chin. “These are cropped from the backgrounds of a bunch of selfies.” 

Pangzi made a silent promise to never again make fun of those people who took a lot of selfies. Amitabha², bless the conceited millennials. Er Jin continued, “Memorize those faces. Let’s see if we can place them anywhere else. I’ve already sent this over to Hei Xiazi to see if facial recognition can pick up anything.”

“There was nothing else to note? No dialects, or anything?”

“The staff weren’t paying much attention, but they couldn’t recall any particularly strong dialect. We have to assume they spoke rather standard Mandarin.”

Pangzi opened his mouth to ask another question, but was cut off by a ding sounding from his pocket.

He checked his phone, and saw it was a text from Hei Xiazi. “Right… well, let me know if there’s any development. I’ll be off then, Jin Shu.”

Er Jin just gave a wave in response.

“What do you mean you can’t track anymore? Didn’t you say they took a… a three day tour³ or something to the DMZ? That’s extremely suspicious!” Pangzi shouted into the phone, causing Zhang Qiling to jerk his head up in attention. 

“Wha— OK whatever, where the DMZ is is not actually important, I don’t actually care. You’re telling me they were spotted sniffing around the same area when we were there, and now we can’t investigate further?” Pangzi blinked rapidly, features scrunching up in disbelief. “Diplomatic tensions? Since when did your family’s influence stop at diplomatic concerns?”

“I thought North Korea was our comrade…” Pangzi mumbled unhappily, rubbing his forehead. “Can’t our good buddies let us in?” A longer pause. “What do you mean they are the Chinese government? I thought positions of power weren't their thing... Just how many Wangs are there? Fucking cult…”

Zhang Qiling put down the paper he was studying to turn his full attention to the conversation. It must have been Xie Yuchen on the other end, though he couldn’t quite hear the other half of the discourse.

“OK, OK, yeah sorry, sorry… hn… hn… what? But didn’t you say they were —?” Pangzi sighed, his hand carding through messy locks. “Fine. Yeah. I’ll check again with Er Shu, though I don’t think—” A longer pause. Then, “Xiaoge?” Pangzi snatched a glance in his direction. “No I don’t…” Then, in slightly lower tones, accompanied by a rather conspicuous shuffling away from him, “I already asked, he doesn’t…” The conversation trailed off as Pangzi rounded the corner, out of sight.

Once again, Zhang Qiling was left to his own devices in the large central hall. Deciding that the open air that was typical of Hangzhou humidity was now too suffocating, he wandered down the corridor opposite that of the direction Pangzi had gone. Without realizing it, his steps brought him to Wu Xie’s room.

He hesitated for a split second before pushing the door open. They’d already been in here the first night, sifting through Wu Xie’s stuff, taking account of his belongings and noting the distinct lack of anything missing. On the nightstand, still charging, was where they found his cellphone, which Hei Xiazi had taken for further examination.

But now that it was just him in Wu Xie’s room, it felt different — special.

He inhaled deeply, basking in the scent that was uniquely Wu Xie — a mixture of books, old and slightly musty, and copious amounts of ink; and the rich and faintly sweet trace of Huanghelou cigarettes — and let the familiarity and comfort wash over him. The scent brought him sharply back to a specific mood, or rather, a memory — what was it? It engulfed him entirely, and he could feel it resonate from his core — a cool evening, the night dark, the nearby lights of camp faintly outlining the soft face before him, and his soul feeling as distant and empty as the night sky he was gazing at... only to be pulled back by a pair of vibrant, desperate brown eyes… And suddenly it was too much. He was a kite, abruptly set adrift as the wind caught, sending the spool spinning wildly out of control, but now no one was there to catch it again, to stop it, and he would just keep floating and spinning, higher and higher and— He pressed a palm into his face and took several deep breaths, slowly grounding himself once more.

His gaze then trailed over the photos on the wall; the three of them were the subject of many photos, and of course Wu Xie had many of himself with his relatives — Er Shu, San Shu. His brows furrowed at the deceptive smirk on Wu Sanxing / Xie Lianhuan’s face and the way the man in the picture had such a playful caress on a young Wu Xie’s head. There were some newer photos — a group of high schoolers smiling up at the camera, and another close-up of one of those high schoolers with Wu Xie. The boy was sporting a cheeky grin, and Wu Xie had an arm slung around him, with his hand sneaking up to ruffle the boy’s hair playfully. So this was Li Cu, he registered the boy in the back of his head, though his attention was drawn more towards the man in the picture.

Long fingers traced Wu Xie’s jawline subconsciously, taking note of angles that weren’t there when they’d last parted. The stubble, the bags under the eyes, the rather unkempt hair highlighted the exhaustion evident. And in it all, the gaze was what’d aged the most. He was barely aware of staring a tad too long, oblivious to the passage of time, drowning in every last detail of Wu Xie’s changed features.

And yet… the smile. It was his smile. The smile was now accompanied by the crinkling of crow’s feat, and carried with it years of pain and turmoil, but it was the same smile that he remembered. And suddenly, like a spell finally breaking, he let out a silent breath of relief he hadn’t known he was holding.

Thank goodness I didn’t lead you to your death⁴ , he recalled uttering those words to Wu Xie all those years ago.

And now...

Thank goodness I didn’t rob you of your smile.

Wang Meng eyed the new USB on the table with a sense of helplessness. How many hours of footage would be on this? He rolled his neck and sighed, reaching over his shoulder to pull at his stiff shoulders. 

Hei Xiazi had simply dropped off this newest USB with a wink — “Got you another baby to check out!” and promptly disappeared again. He wanted to tear at his hair, but reminded himself it was all for Wu Xie, the bastard.

Seeing the composite size of the contents of this drive — 102 GB? That’s it? — he blinked. Well, he supposed there’d be no need to farm this out to his men then.

Clicking open the first video, he started to watch with a slight glaze in his eyes. 

An hour into the second video, he sat up straight in his chair, the glaze vanishing entirely from sight.

Right there, on the screen, sitting at a hawker stand table, was the image of one of the men from the mountain, which Hei Xiazi had distributed to all of them prior. 

Opposite of the man, sat the very unmistakable image of himself.

“Care to explain yourself?” came the sudden drawl from behind him, nearly startling him out of his seat.

Wang Meng blanched, for once finding those black sunglasses terribly foreboding. He sat frozen, halfway turned in his seat. “I…”

Gone was any trace of the trademark smirk or grin from his face. In its place was something much more sinister. And in the reflection of those pitch-black frames, he could see his own pale expression. “Let’s take a walk, shall we?”

Chapter Text

Wang Meng winced as he was bodily slammed against a wooden column the moment they re-entered Wushanju. “Fucking bastard,” Pangzi roared, fisting Wang Meng’s collar so tightly, his hand turned white. “What the fuck did you do to Tianzhen? How could you do this?” Pangzi hissed in disbelief, voice quaking in anger. Wang Meng felt himself being lifted forward again and braced himself for another slam— 

“Hey, hey, hey!” Hei Xiazi intervened, popping up beside them and pressing an arm out against Pangzi’s chest while the other hand slowly worked to loosen the other’s grip. “Why don’t we all sit down, for this? I think there’s been a misunderstanding here—”

“What’s there to fucking misunderstand?!” Pangzi yelled. “Those men— his hired men— attacked us on that mountain! He got to Wu Xie first, and then he sent them after us! Dammit, I know you and Tianzhen had your differences as of late, but did it really warrant this? He’s still your good brother¹!”

“Why don’t we calm down a bit first? Let’s think this through logically hm? Does this really make any sense?” Hei Xiazi tried to mediate. His initial reaction to the revelation had also been similar, but having interrogated Wang Meng briefly before everyone else had assembled, his gut told him something wasn’t quite right.

“Heiye, you don’t need to defend him,” Xie Yuchen cut in scathingly. “I knew he held a grudge against Wu Xie for getting all of us involved. Granted, I never thought he’d take it so far…”

Suddenly, the sound of hysterical laughter filled the courtyard. Pangzi, startled, loosened his grip to stare at the cackling Wang Meng in alarm. And it took Wang Meng himself a second to realize the hysterical laughter was actually coming from him.

“The fuck is this? The beginning to some crappy villain’s monologue?” Pangzi mumbled, slightly disturbed and thinking perhaps the man was possessed.

“You all think… you all think I’d harm laoban?” He found it all so comically ironic, that he couldn’t help but laugh some more. He couldn’t decide between the fury, the affront, the hurt, or the hilarity of it all. “I—” He swallowed a lump in his throat. “You guys know how much he’s suffered, how much he’s gone through?” he asked, gaze skipping around to meet each person's in a bitter daze, taking in all their wary demeanors.

Xie Yuchen and Pangzi both frowned, though confusion now overtook anger as the primary emotion as they watched the scene unfold. 

“Sure,” Wang Meng admitted, jutting his chin in defiance and nodding repeatedly, “I hired those men.” The reactions were various — Hei Xiazi sighed, Xie Yuchen glowered, and Kan Jian was looking at him in wide-eyed disbelief. When Pangzi’s eyes enlarged furiously to that admission, Wang Meng leveled a hard stare at the other and spat, “I wanted them to stop you from bringing that man back into laoban’s life!”

Here, everyone froze, the silence and tension hanging heavily in the air.

And it was only then that the small audience seemed to become cognizant of the presence of the man in question, observing from just outside their circle.

Wang Meng, now keenly aware of Zhang Qiling’s presence as well, threw him a look of utter detestation before readdressing Pangzi and Xie Yuchen in front of him. “Ever since laoban met him, laoban has not been able to live a peaceful life. He’s been in one dangerous situation after another, and has nearly died so many times.”

“That cannot be blamed on Xiaoge,” Xie Yuchen interjected to the surprise of a few. “This is what Wu Xie, what we, as part of the Nine Families, were born into.” Yet even as he said this, a small part of him sympathized with Wang Meng’s sentiment. After all, he himself had also at times silently levied similar accusations at the Zhang patriarch.

But Wang Meng only shook his head vehemently and turned his red-rimmed gaze on Zhang Qiling instead. “How many times,” he started, voice quavering, “How many times has laoban disregarded his life for you?”

No one spoke, though everyone delicately turned their gaze to witness Zhang Qiling’s response.

“How many times? ” Wang Meng pressed again, partaking in a bit of schadenfreude at the way the man faltered, looking so uncharacteristically uncertain of himself. Wang Meng laughed bitterly. “You don’t know. You don’t know. Does death even mean anything to a god?” 

At this, Pangzi could bear it no longer and slammed him against the wooden column again — this time a bit weaker. “Shut up. What the fuck do you know? Xiaoge has saved Tianzhen more times than you can count. Tianzhen is just that kind of person, we all know it. How many times has he risked his neck to save you? Do you know?”

Wang Meng growled, finally grasping enough anger to take a stand and shove Pangzi off. “I do, actually. I do, and I will forever be indebted to him for it. But I’m not the reason why laoban needs to risk his neck in the first place. It’s always him .” He jabbed a trembling finger in Zhang Qiling’s direction. He swiveled to meet Zhang Qiling full-on. “Ten years… why’d you have to tell him ten years? Why did you have to give him hope ? Ten years might be enough for a normal person to forget, but laoban is crazy…”² He threw back his head and let out a snort, shaking his head incredulously. “Laoban is crazy… don’t you know? You must have known. Instead, he delved into your mess, cleaned up your family’s shit, all for that stupid hope you gave him in ten years’ time!” he roared, face red and breath unsteady, as his eyes continued to channel all his vitriol and hate in Zhang Qiling’s direction.

“And what the fuck would you have Xiaoge do, hm?” Pangzi cut in, snapping Wang Meng’s attention back to him. “You already said it. Tianzhen is crazy, yes. Twenty years, thirty years, fuck it — an entire lifetime, till death — would he wait for Xiaoge to come back! Or if not that, then he would have actually gone crazy or died trying to break into the Bronze Gate!”

Wang Meng breathed heavily through flared nostrils, jaw twitching. “He shouldn’t have come back,” he finally bit out. “He should have walked down the mountain in the opposite fucking direction, and never come back.”

“Shut up,” Pangzi snarled.

“Who knows? Maybe it’s already too late. Maybe this time, laoban’s time finally ran out—” 

Thwack!  

Wang Meng didn’t even register the punch until he realized he was spitting out blood.

“You take that back,” Pangzi hissed. “You take that back, you hear me? Or I swear—” 

“Pangzi,” Xie Yuchen placed a hand over his fist, which he had raised again, hovering over the dazed Wang Meng.

A beat later, Wang Meng burst into uncontrollable sobs, sliding down listlessly like a marionette with its strings cut and forcing Pangzi to drop his hold. His frame shook as he sobbed into his hands. “Laoban… Why’d you disappear again? Why…” he cried weakly, leaving Pangzi speechless and subsequently drained.

No one was sure what to do next; Kan Jian swayed in place, still horrified and perplexed by the proceedings, and Xie Yuchen and Pangzi both stood there, each processing their own thoughts. 

What a mess, Hei Xiazi grimaced, and ventured a look at the one who took the most emotional beating in all of this. Zhang Qiling stood rooted to the spot, eyes unfocused and looking what could arguably be considered crestfallen for him. Not able to bear seeing the forlorn look on his friend’s face a second longer, Hei Xiazi walked over to him and clapped a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Yaba Zhang… Yaba Zhang,” he had to call out a couple of times to see the fog clear a bit from the other’s gaze. “We still need to find Wu Xie, yeah?” he reminded softly, and receiving the nearly imperceptible nod in response, he clapped his shoulder again. “Why don’t you go for a walk. Maybe pick us up some takeout while you’re about? Give us an hour or so. I’ll text you.”

Zhang Qiling could only nod.

By the time he returned, the sky was darkening and the lights at Wushanju had flickered on. He faltered at the threshold, but recalling Hei Xiazi’s text — We figured it out. Don’t worry. Don’t forget to bring us back fried chicken! — which was complete with a winking face and some chicken symbols, he pushed through the doors and looked around the empty courtyard.

His eyes fell on the two figures in the central hall. Hei Xiazi saw him and waved him over. “Yaba Zhang? You bring back that chicken?” Next to him, Pangzi, who was in the middle of slurping through a bowl of instant ramen looked up and mumbled what sounded like ‘Xiaoge!’ and something else entirely incomprehensible.

He walked up to them a little warily, eyes scanning the left and right wings for other shadows. Frowning when he found traces of no one else, he was about to ask when Hei Xiazi responded, “Wang Meng explained everything to us, and we figured it was best for him to go home, sleep it off. Huaye had some pressing business to address, so he’s gone to take care of that. I had Kan Jian run a little errand, so it’s just us now.” 

He nodded, not really knowing what else to say, and placed the bag of chicken on the table. 

“Ng,” Pangzi made a noise, then swallowed. “Sorry, Xiaoge. I was too hungry, so I started eating. Burned too many calories being angry earlier. Do you want some? I can go make you a bowl,” the other offered, gesturing to the ramen.

He shook his head, but sat down stiffly at the table.

Hei Xiazi wasted no time delving happily into the box and pulled out a drumstick, immediately starting to munch on it. “Mmh,” he nodded, wagging a finger at the drumstick, “This store has the best chicken around hands down. Good choice, Yaba Zhang, we might make a regular city man out of you yet!” 

Zhang Qiling simply stared at him, waiting until the other got the cue and said, “Alright, alright. So impatient. Can’t even let us eat first? You’re not hungry? You should eat at least one stick. Come on.”

So he slowly picked up a piece and started eating it.

“Xiaoge,” Pangzi started, taking a bite of chicken. “Things are like this...” And Pangzi recapped the information that unfolded after his departure.

First, he had to provide a bit of background; Wang Meng and Wu Xie had a bit of a falling out a while back, towards the end of the Wang family fiasco, when Wu Xie went to fight the last stretch alone. Wang Meng was put out by Wu Xie’s seemingly dismissive attitude towards him, and his obstinate insistence of seeing this through, which Wang Meng knew was mostly for Zhang Qiling’s sake. 

Wang Meng had no choice but to return to Wushanju, though not before securing it from Wu Xie. Initially as much an act of defiance as an honest desire to run the place properly in anticipation for Wu Xie’s return, he was a bit miffed at the ease at which Wu Xie simply acquiesced to his request, tossing the keys over without another thought, once again highlighting just where everything stood in relation to Zhang Qiling³ .

And thus the bitter seed was sown.

Originally, Wang Meng wanted to take these men up the mountain, and, with one of the men pretending to be Xiaoge, lead Wu Xie away, and eventually disappear, convincing Wu Xie to give up on Xiaoge⁴.

Here, Pangzi paused the narration and snorted. “Ridiculous. Wang-bastard⁵ thought a little Houdini trick would get Tianzhen to give up Xiaoge? After he spent all that time by Tianzhen’s side and claimed be a brother who really understood him, he still made such a blatantly stupid assumption? I have to wonder if he understands him at all then, if he thought this sort of cheap trick would be enough to get him to give up on Xiaoge. Right, Xiaoge? Our little Tianzhen is not that easily duped. That little duckling will follow you to the ends of the earth. Can’t even ditch him if you wanted to.”

But that comment didn’t make him happy. Instead, he found Wang Meng’s earlier words echoing — How many times has laoban disregarded his life for you? Zhang Qiling knew in his heart that the answer was simply, too many . 

Sensing that he might have misspoke, Pangzi cleared his throat and continued:

But then Wu Xie disappeared. And this was where things got a little jumbled.

Pangzi vacillated between harping on Wang Meng’s inane Hail Mary plan and exploding over Wang Meng’s refusal to immediately come clean about the whole thing. But Wang Meng just continuously shook his head. 

That’s the thing, I cancelled the job, he’d explained to the utter bemusement of everyone present. Apparently, once it was discovered that Wu Xie had gone missing, Wang Meng turned around and called off the job. However, his contact didn’t seem too happy about that, and said something about contracts and such.

Wang Meng, now preoccupied with other more important matters, like Wu Xie’s disappearance, hastily told him to fuck off, do whatever, and that he’d cover 20% as a cancellation fee, but that they shouldn’t expect anything more, and cut the call.

After that, there wasn’t any more contact. So when Xie Yuchen brought up the fiasco with the men on the mountain, even Wang Meng wasn’t sure if these were the men he hired. When he hired them, he wanted them to do two things — one, act out that little scene with Zhang Qiling to lead Wu Xie away, and two, prevent them from making it to the Bronze Gate and forcing them to turn back.

Why would they follow through a now cancelled job? Wang Meng didn’t think that made much sense, and thus doubted it was the men he hired. He didn’t want to distract them unnecessarily from their search for Wu Xie, and so never said anything till now.

I would have told you guys, Wang Meng admitted a bit resentfully. He wanted to confirm that the men he had hired were the same men that ended up going to the mountain. But there was only one contact he met in person. And in the past few days, he hadn’t been able to get back in contact with said person at all.

After this lengthy narration, Pangzi took a swig of beer and devoured another chicken wing. Heaving a sigh, Pangzi lamented, “And now we’re back to square one. Stupid Wang-bastard leading us on a stupid goose chase without letting us know…”

He took all of this in, re-processing old information with this new dimension, and finally offered, “Suspicious.”

“You think?” Pangzi shot forward, a spittle of chicken flying out of his mouth and missing his arm by a hair, drawing his attention to where it landed. “Sorry,” the other let out, sitting back down and grabbing a napkin to wipe it away. “But yeah, maybe Wang-bastard is not coming clean about something...” 

He continued to stare at the now empty spot, causing Pangzi to mutter something about needing to refurbish the tabletop and grabbed another napkin to scrub the area clean. “Not him,” he finally concluded.

Pangzi halted his scrubbing, opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, frowning. Hei Xiazi stroked his chin, then tested, “...those men?”

He nodded. 

Hei Xiazi hummed thoughtfully.

Wang Meng’s story brought about just as many questions as it had answered. He thought back to Xie Yuchen’s comment about the harpies not attacking those men. “No other suspicious points?” he probed.

 A sigh. “There were a few, but they all also come with the trade,” Hei Xiazi answered.

“Wang-bastard did say the guy called someone up in fluent English,” Pangzi pointed out.

He could sense Hei Xiazi rolling his eyes even if he couldn’t see it. “You think any English is fluent English. And who can’t speak some English nowadays? Just because your English is bad...”

“Wang-bastard was the one who said—”

“You think Wang Meng speaks fluent English?”

That shut Pangzi up.

After a moment of silence, Hei Xiazi patted the table and said, “Well, it’s getting late. I’ll talk to Wang Meng again tomorrow, see what he knows about these guys. Pangzi, you’ll update Er Shu?”

Pangzi nodded. “Yeah, I better go tell Er Shu before he comes knocking on Wang Meng’s door himself.” He then sighed, lamenting to the night sky, “Tianzhen, Tianzhen… you didn’t get carted off to America, did you? Your English isn’t that much better than mine!”

Chapter Text

Zhang Qiling sat leaning over the edge of his bed, the events from earlier a track stuck on an endless loop with jarring skips the moment a segment of melody was about to complete.

How many times has laoban disregarded his life for you?

Wu Xie shouting, I need to save Xiaoge!, as he ran headfirst back into the waves.

Wu Xie’s hesitation to continue overcome by burning resolution for him — If this is really that important to you, then I’ll stick with you to the end!

Wu Xie chasing and shouting after him as he stopped to fight whatever creature prohibiting their escape when all he needed was for Wu Xie to getout!toodangerous!go!.

Wu Xie following him headfirst into danger, to help him recover his memories.

Wu Xie’s determination to follow him into the depths of Changbai - I’ll accompany you on the final journey¹.

Does death even mean anything to a god?

For someone who had no past, no future, death was the tomorrow that would never come, but one day simply be. 

For someone who had no earthly connections, death was something that could be observed, but never experienced.

For a god, whose existence was unattached and timeless, death was simply a concept that mortals used to try to define their existence.

Death may not mean anything to a true god, but Zhang Qiling was one no longer.

Even if his body would stay impervious to the passage of time, his soul had since anchored. 

What did death mean to a ‘god’ like him?

When the time came when he would no longer see the pure gentle smile, no longer hear the familiar calls of Xiaoge, and no longer reach out to the comforting presence no matter the situation… At that time, death would be a blessing.

Why did you have to give him hope?

Maybe this time, laoban’s time finally ran out.

Wang Meng’s hateful glare stood out vividly in his memory, but it was an image of Wu Xie and that smile of his, slowly fading away in his arms but still with enough strength to whisper, You were worth it, that burned into his mind.

He choked. 

He had thought about it — disappearing into the world, waiting for Wu Xie to forget him. Ten years for Wu Xie to grow up, then realizing too late that he was not coming back. And if he truly wished it, Wu Xie would never be able to find him again.

But in the end, he couldn’t. The crestfallen expression, the light dimming in Wu Xie’s eyes as the realization came, and that smile never again reappearing… he couldn’t.

Was he selfish? Taking Wu Xie’s place behind the Bronze Gate was a sacrifice he’d made without any doubt or hesitation.

But if that were the case, was it really a sacrifice?

Who would have walked out of the Gate if Wu Xie had gone in instead?

It was that smile.

He was selfish after all.

“You’re not thinking of anything stupid, are you?” came the gruff voice that cut into his ruminations.

He glanced up to see Pangzi eyeing him dubiously, leaning against the doorframe and holding a can of soda.

Garnering a lack of response, Pangzi stared at him dead-on and jabbed a finger in his direction, swaying a little. “Don’t—” 

Ah. So it wasn’t soda.

“Don’t,” he started again, “Don’t you two pull some Jia Baoyu and Lin Daiyu² nonsense on me. Pangye has watched this show,” here, he did a twirl with his free hand, “looooong enough.” He took another swig of whatever was in the can, then paused. “Wait that’s not right… which one is which? And taniangde ³, doesn’t that make me Xue Baochai²?” This seemed to sober him a bit as he gave a vehement shake of his head, blinking hard. “Romeo and Juliet…” he then mumbled, nodding to himself. “Right, Romeo and Juliet is more fitting… whatever. Self-imposed tragedies… just don’t, for the love of the Pangye’s cholesterol levels.”

He raised a brow at Pangzi’s drunken mutterings, and decided not to pay it much mind.

“When this is all over,” Pangzi continued, “I’m going to buy us a house in that rainy mountain village, and we’re all gonna retire there, and farm lots’n lots of yuzaishen⁴.” He made a wide gesture with his arms, sloshing a bit of liquid out of the can. “We’re gonna stay there, like normal, boring people, and learn to enjoy the simple farming life.”

“I’m,” Pangzi emphasized, thumping his fist to his chest. “...going to find me a nice village girl, and then I’ll build another house next door, have a brood of little rugrats, and they will grow up listening to Tianzhen telling them stories of our adventures, thinking it’s all just tall tales made up by their crazy uncle and pops.”

“And you and Xiao⁵ Tianzhen will stay right there, where the only time you’ll go near any tombs, are during Qingming Festival⁶ or other significant dates. No more life-endangering, running from zombies, ‘potentially trapped until heaven knows when our bones would be discovered’ adventures for us! My grandkids are not gonna grow up not knowing their grand-uncle Tianzhen and grand-uncle Xiaoge, ya hear?”

Zhang Qiling stared at Pangzi, suddenly overcome with a sense of nostalgia for this scene that never was.

But even if he knew, and he knew that Pangzi also knew, that this was something that would likely never be… he wanted to at least hold onto that possibility.

“Go to sleep,” he told him quietly. 

I won’t let this possibility turn into a regret.

“Where’s Er Shu? He’s the one who invited us here,” Pangzi grumbled a bit impatiently, bouncing his knees. Kan Jian, who was leaning against the wall, just shook his head.

Just then, the door opened to reveal, not Wu Erbai but Hei Xiazi.

“Er Shu will be over shortly,” he said, plopping down onto a nearby seat. “Yo, Yaba Zhang,” he greeted with a chin nod at Zhang Qiling, who was sitting silently next to Pangzi.

The other man ignored him.

“Did he tell you what he found?” Xie Yuchen, who was sitting in the farther corner of the room, inquired. 

But Hei Xiazi just shrugged. “Nope. We had a long chat with Wang Meng this morning, and then Er Shu and Jinye suddenly took off. Guess they figured out a lead of sorts.”

Xie Yuchen glanced around the room at the mention of the shopkeeper. “Wang Meng isn’t around?”

“Fucker better not be,” Pangzi grumbled a little under his breath.

“Alright already, Pangzi,” Xie Yuchen retorted, a bit irate, “You said so yourself that he only did this…” He trailed off, sparing a glance at Zhang Qiling, then sighed, not really wanting to rehash yesterday's events.

Pangzi grunted, but said no more.

“Anyway, I have some updates about the Wang family from my side,” Xie Yuchen announced, walking over to the table.

This caused everyone to perk up, including Zhang Qiling.

“You have news on laoban?” Kan Jian asked eagerly.

“Wha— Well what are you holding back for?” Pangzi gestured impatiently. “Those fuckers show their faces again? North Korea no longer covering their asses?”

“Yes… and no,” Xie Yuchen responded. He glanced at the door, as if expecting Wu Erbai to walk in right then and there, then sighed, deciding not to wait. He pulled out his phone, and after a few taps and swipes, pushed it onto the table. “This man was found dead near Hongqiao⁷ a couple days ago.”

Everyone leaned over to get a better look.

“Who is this?” Hei Xiazi asked, zooming in on the face and squinting.

“We’re still investigating, but take a look at this—” He swiped to another photo of the man, this time a shot from the back, revealing a faint but visible outline of a phoenix.

“Fuck me,” Pangzi breathed, pushing a hand through his hair. “It is those Wang fuckers back for revenge.” 

Xie Yuchen nodded solemnly. “If it weren’t for his body somehow ending up near a subway exhaust and one of the locals reported him to higher authorities suspecting some gang affiliation after seeing that tattoo, our systems would not have flagged this at all.”

A sharp intake of breath sounded from Hei Xiazi, who placed a thoughtful hand to his chin. “Huh… even the Wang family can stoop to these uncouth methods? ” He tutted, shaking his head. “That’s rather image-ruining. I feel even more disappointed than when I found out Lei Feng⁸ was a phony.”

Xie Yuchen smacked his lips. “Can you not? How can you joke at a time like this?”

Hei Xiazi shrugged. “Humor is the key to sanity, young one, right Yaba Zhang?” He tossed a grin at the man, who simply stared.

“But wait, if this man is dead, does that mean Wu Xie escaped?” Xie Yuchen posed the question, bringing the topic back to focus. Frowning, he added, “But then how did they even get to Wu Xie in the first place?”

“Maybe they pulled some underhanded tactic, and snuck some poison into Tianzhen’s food when he was out grabbing a bite, or maybe they used some aphrodisiac poison, using some pretty little miss to lure him—” Pangzi rambled until he found three pairs of eyes gaping at him incredulously. Four, if you counted Hei Xiazi, if the way his eyebrows arched were any indication. And feeling the particularly sour glare coming from beside him, he turned and said placatingly, “...you’re right.. definitely not a pretty little miss. More...” He looked Zhang Qiling up and down, but then flattened his expression, wisely deciding against saying anything.

“Are you two done?” Xie Yuchen rebuked tetchily, looking from Hei Xiazi, who shrugged, to Pangzi, who pursed his lips and cleared his throat. Satisfied that the two were now properly chastened, he continued. “Either way, this must be a clue towards Wu Xie.”

Just then, the door opened again. “What clue?” came the authoritative voice of Wu Erbai as he and Er Jin fanned into the room.

“Er Shu, Jin Shu,” they all chorused in greeting.

“This,” Xie Yuchen pushed the phone on the table towards Wu Erbai. “This man was found near Hongqiao a couple days back.”

Wu Erbai took one glance at the photo and said simply, “You can put that away. We were able to trace the origin of those mountain men. Their leader, who Wang Meng met with here in Hangzhou, is a frequent customer of a casino in Macau.”

“Macau?” Xie Yuchen echoed.

Pangzi slapped his hands together loudly then made a finger gun. “I told you the English was suspect!”

Xie Yuchen rolled his eyes. “It was their accent?” he asked Wu Erbai.

But Er Jin shook his head. “Zed,” he said instead.

“Who?” Pangzi asked.

But Xie Yuchen understood, and explained to the others, “In American English, which the majority of mainland is taught, ‘Z’ is pronounced zee. In British English, which is more prevalent in Hong Kong and Macau, it’s pronounced zed.⁸”

Pangzi slow clapped in response. “Nice one, Huaye, to think your fuerdai¹⁰ education can be used this way too,” he commented, which earned him a glare.

Er Jin nodded. “We refocused our search in the Hong Kong / Macau region, and eventually found them.”

“When we asked around in the area, there were rumors that these men belonged to the Triad, and that one common identifying feature was a disappearing tattoo.”

“Shit… you’re telling me Wang-bastard actually was working with the fucking Wang family?¹¹" Pangzi cried out.

But Wu Erbai shook his head. “I don’t think Wang Meng knew about this. They must have borrowed his plans as cover.”

“But why?” Xie Yuchen asked.

“That’s still a question we have to answer.”

“Wait… but where is laoban then?” Kan Jian piped up, not quite following. 

The rest of the room with the exception of Wu Erbai and Er Jin looked up with bated breath.

Er Jin smiled. “That’s where we finally made some headway. One of the people there told us they saw someone who looked like Xiao Sanye in that same casino.”

The relief and excitement in the room was palpable.

“We finally found him?” Pangzi swallowed heavily, voice shaking. 

“We’re not sure yet,” Wu Erbai admitted, “but this has been the most promising lead about Xiao Xie’s whereabouts yet.”

“I knew those fuckers had something to do with Wu Xie disappearing.” Then, eyes lighting up, he exclaimed, “I’ll bet they wanted to off Xiaoge when he stepped out of the Gate! Thought you could stop Pangye's reinforcements with those little party tricks eh? Even if they’ve got some creepy bird-whisperer voodoo magic… hey is that why their symbol is the phoenix? Maybe those harpies are just their ancestors, and all they have to do is say ‘hey granny, they bullied me’, and the old harpy comes swooping in for action.” He snorted and looked over to Zhang Qiling — who was frowning, gaze unfocused in front of him and seemingly lost in thought — and sobered.

An exasperated Xie Yuchen shook his head. “You think they’re stupid enough to take on Zhang Qiling? I suspect they didn’t achieve what they came for, but at least this does tie up a couple of loose threads.” Then, to Wu Erbai, “Er Shu, should I continue to observe the Wang family movements in North Korea then?”

“Observe for what? We’re gonna storm enemy headquarters to bring Tianzhen back!” Pangzi rounded.

“We’re trying to save Wu Xie, not get ourselves killed. If we’re going to Macau, that would be their territory. And this isn’t some expedition to a tomb. If we’re not careful, we might end up involving the Triad and local authorities, and if we end up landing our asses in jail or worse, then who would save Wu Xie? Not to mention, even an offshoot of Wang family can be dangerous. I’d like to ensure we’re not walking headfirst into an elaborate trap. If their main forces in North Korea end up on the move and they all collapse in on us, forget Wu Xie — all of us would be wiped out in one go.” Xie Yuchen rejoined.

“All I know is that it’s nearly been two weeks since Tianzhen has gone missing. Who knows what kind of things those bastards are doing to him! I’m sick of sitting around making guesses. We’ve finally got some intel, so let’s go! We can figure things out along the way.”

“Pangzi,” Wu Erbai chided, “Xiaohua has a point. It’s not our territory, so we need to do our homework. And the Wang family, while weakened, still has great influence; an injured beast is most dangerous. Although, I was also hoping…” Here, he turned to Zhang Qiling, who was still sitting down and observing all the proceedings in silent contemplation. “Xiaoge, do you have any inkling why Wang family might have gone up Changbai Mountain that time?”

Zhang Qiling’s gaze met Wu Erbai’s as he tried to recall something, but ultimately could only shake his head, brow pinched.

“Then what about the Wang family branch in Hong Kong / Macau? Any strangeness, rumors...?” Wu Erbai pushed again, though was met with the same response.

“Not anymore,” he let out regretfully.

“Not anymore?” Er Jin echoed, brows furrowed. “But you do recall knowing something before?”

“No longer there,” was the response. Then, "Unimportant."

Er Jin blinked. “Unimportant? But this could be critical information to help us find Xiao Sanye. Is this something we can help you remember?”

Here, Zhang Qiling's expression froze, as if he were perplexed by his own admission. A moment later, he was shaking his head again.

Seeing the dispiritedness fall over the other’s visage, Pangzi cut in with “Aiya, Xiaoge just means that his memory is like your iPhone storage… capacity is limited. When storage memory is full, the less important stuff gets automatically deleted to make space for the more important stuff…” And here, he muttered something under his breath that sounded like, And if anyone is to be blamed for that, it’s probably Tianzhen. Then resuming his normal tone, he said, “Now normally, you can still access everything else via iCloud, but Xiaoge lost access to his iCloud, and there’s no password reset option.”

For once, Zhang Qiling was not the only one to stare at him blankly.

After a moment, Wu Erbai sighed. “In any case, sleep on it first. Jin Shu here will make all the preparations. You all go home for now. Xiaoge, if you do remember anything, please share with all of us.”

He nodded.

As everyone was shuffling out, Pangzi clapped a hand on his shoulder and murmured, “Don’t beat yourself up, OK? We got them once; we can get them again. Who knows, maybe Xiao Tianzhen is already hitchhiking his own way home on the back of some dairy truck.”

He nodded again, this time eyes downcast.

Pangzi patted his back a couple times more, then walked on ahead.

Elsewhere

He came to in bits and pieces, and it took him a few minutes to realize he’d woken up. He tried to recall where he’d fallen asleep, because none of this felt familiar. Suddenly, the sensation of danger! flooded his being, and he snapped upright only to immediately collapse and curl in on himself from the sharp pain in his chest. It took him a couple of minutes for the haze of pain to clear so he could start taking stock of his injuries. 

Mind still a mire, the first thing he noticed was that he’d been given clean bandages; whoever had taken him clearly didn’t want him dead yet. 

The question of who that someone was was suddenly shoved aside when a sudden wave of nausea swept through him. He turned over the edge to gag, but nothing came up, though the jostling sent another wave of pain coursing through. After a few moments passed was when he realized that the surface he was lying on was rather soft, and actually felt like a really large bed.

His eyes squinted into the darkness, which was disturbingly pitch black. When he reached up to rub his eyes, his fingers brushed up against fabric. It wasn’t bandages however, but a simple blindfold. Relief that his eyes were probably fine flooded him, and he hurriedly moved to untie the blindfold.

Just then, a familiar voice sounded. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Chapter Text

He cut down the monkey that jumped at him and immediately turned to parry another attack by a harpy. This pattern continued for several minutes, and he kept peripheral tabs on the rest of the party, ready to jump over at a moment’s notice if need be. 

“Tianzhen! Outta the way! Pangye’s gonna blow these fuckers to smithereens!” Pangzi shouted from nearby over the chaos of the screeching and howling creatures.

He spared a quick glance in Wu Xie’s direction and found him dodging a ferocious swipe from one of the harpies. The other rolled over to the side where Pangzi was at, a gap just wide enough to squeeze the few of them, and he was once again distracted by his own enemies.

“Xiaoge! Fall back!” came the command, which he heeded after fending off another attack, jumping down and taking cover behind a boulder.

A second later, a deafening boom resounded in the expanse of the cave, with the accompanying burst of light briefly illuminating the hundreds of terrifying humanoid faces.

There was a moment of ringing, then a muted scattering of the howling and screeching.

“Haha nice one, Pangzi!” Wu Xie walloped, a silly grin plastered across his face. “Xiaoge! Let’s go before they regroup!” his voice echoed excitedly over the now quieter space.

He nodded, quickly making his way over to Wu Xie and Pangzi. 

Just as he was about to reach Wu Xie, he saw the latter’s face blossoming in terror. “Xiaoge, watch out!” Wu Xie cried, shooting forward and shoving him out of the way as one of the harpies swooped down in terrifying vengeance, grabbing hold of Wu Xie.

He stumbled and whipped around with inhumane speed, but could still only watch in slow horror as the harpy sunk its long talons into Wu Xie’s chest, piercing through flesh and causing the other to choke out.

“TIANZHEN!”

His mind went blank and his body ran cold with terrified rage. He barely registered the distant roar, a foreign strangled cry that reverberated around the cave, and was detachedly aware of bringing his blade down swiftly across the harpy’s talons, cleanly severing them from the body.

The harpy screeched and took off, leaving Wu Xie to sway in place, coughing up a mouthful of blood. 

He caught Wu Xie as the other collapsed, trying not to jostle him as much as possible, but there was blood, so much blood everywhere he touched, and everything was dark and damp, the metallic stench unbearable, and something was dripping onto Wu Xie’s face, onto his fingers as he took a trembling hand to caress — his fingers, why were his fingers trembling?

Someone kept calling Wu Xie’s name, over and over and over, and it wasn’t until the man in his arms pressed a weak grip to his forearm that he realized it was coming from him . From somewhere beside him, a small flame flickered on, illuminating Wu Xie’s pale and clammy face.

He was dimly aware of Pangzi in the background, shouting things and rummaging through his pack.

But it was too late.

He could only hold Wu Xie’s gaze, refusing to let himself blink, to break the connection when Wu Xie was still trying so hard to… but his own vision was swimming. Why was it swimming? 

“Xiaoge,” Wu Xie coughed weakly, forcing a pained smile. “Don’t cry,” he whispered, then fell into uneven breaths, the effort clearly taking a toll. He had no choice but to blink to clear his vision, and a few more drops fell.

“Wu Xie,” his own voice coming out so strangled, he almost didn’t recognize it. “I’m sorry.”

But Wu Xie just let out a shaky breath and smiled. “Don’t,” he managed, “I chose this,” he reemphasized, grip tightening with the last of his strength. “Thank you, Xiaoge. You were worth it,” he whispered, eyes drifting close, then— 

His mind stopped.

“Tianzhen, Tianzhen! No… this isn’t... Tianzhen!” came the gut-wrenching cries of Pangzi beside him, but he had neither the energy nor the will to pay it any attention.

He didn’t know how long they sat there, Wu Xie’s body growing cold in his arms as Pangzi continued to wail and pound the ground nearby, the silence of the cavern a cruel respite.

It was only after what felt like an eternity that he finally tore his gaze away from Wu Xie’s face, so deceptively peaceful in death, and trailed down to find—

— the talon that was still piercing Wu Xie’s body, which upon closer look was not a talon at all, but a human hand.

A human hand, where the middle and index fingers were abnormally long.

There will come a day, where one will cause the death of the other , the sinister words came bounding forth from the depths of his memory. And at that time, he’d been so confident, so sure, naively promising Wu Xie resolutely, ‘It won't happen’, and watching as those worried eyes slowly calmed, a reassuring smile appearing on the other’s face, which was now pale, cold, and lifeless.¹

Zhang Qiling awoke with a start, the vivid horror pulsing throughout him like a cold fire, and the gut-wrenching anguish carving a bottomless pit through his very soul. He lay there, unthinking, as his breath slowly returned to him and the lingering ghosts of the dream slowly relinquished their hold over him.

He dazedly took note of the slight stinging sensation on his right temple and reached up to touch it. When he pulled his fingers back and lifted his hand in front of him, he found they were wet. There was also a minute tremor to them. He stared at his abnormally long middle and index fingers, and for the first time in his life, found himself loathing them—

He shot up in bed, grasping his fingers with this other hand.

No, he thought.

It’s not mine.

“Why are we all back here again?” Xie Yuchen grumbled a little irately. “I still need to return to Beijing first before heading directly to Macau. My flight is in… two hours,” he stated, checking his watch.

“Relax, young people nowadays are always in a rush to get everywhere. I can always take you on the back of my motorcycle later, how’s that?” Hei Xiazi smirked from beside Xie Yuchen, nudging the other with his elbow.

Xie Yuchen returned him a blank stare. “If I wanted to die, I would rather it be not be on a public freeway and have it be somewhere far, far away from you,” he retorted blandly, to which he received a pout.

“Sorry guys,” Pangzi apologized, cutting in while scratching his head. “But it was Xiaoge who wanted to say something.”

This got everyone to shut up.

“Yaba Zhang summoned us?” Hei Xiazi asked in astonishment, brows raising high enough that his sunglasses nearly dropped.

Pangzi nodded, then jutted his chin towards the man in question.

Zhang Qiling, who was leaning against the wall, stepped forward.

“I had a dream,” he started, then paused, unsure of how to continue.

“...and?” Xie Yuchen prompted a couple seconds later. “What was it about?”

He didn’t respond. Thankfully, Pangzi smacked his lips and stepped in, “The dream is probably not important. Right, Xiaoge? But it made you realize something?”

He nodded. Initially thinking that this dream might have been a premonition, a terrifying glimpse into an inevitable future, he suddenly remembered something important.

“The Wang family does not have abilities to influence creatures.”

Everyone froze, confusion settling in as the mental gears turned.

“But Zhang family does.”

After a beat of silence as they all digested this, Hei Xiazi muttered, “I think I may know how Wu Xie was taken…” Turning to Pangzi, he continued with an insipid smile, “You know, your comment about Wu Xie being lured away might not be that far off the mark.”

Pangzi caught onto Hei Xiazi’s meaning. “Nothing can delay Tianzhen from fulfilling his promise to Xiaoge, except for one thing,” he mumbled.

Here, all eyes slowly fell on Zhang Qiling. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” the voice said from across the room, which Wu Xie couldn’t help but feel was somewhat familiar (but where from?). 

His fingers slowed down their movements in untying the blindfold but didn’t stop. The other presence tutted. “I mean it,” they warned.

He stiffened, then feeling a bit cocky, challenged, “What will you do if I don’t?”

He could practically hear the shrug. “Nothing. But you’re probably not going to have a pleasant time with the lights given the concussion you got.”

He frowned. Concussion? That would explain the disorientation, gaps in his memories, and bout of nausea. “Where am I?” he murmured, head turning even though nothing could be seen.

“The Crane Pavilion Hotel on Hong Kong Island,” came the easy answer.

He blinked, not expecting the response at all. “Just like that?” he questioned incredulously.

“Well it’s not like you can just walk out of here. And you can see Victoria Harbour from this room, so that would have been a bit of a dead giveaway. The view is quite nice here. You can even enjoy the nighttime shows they put on once you’re rested up.”

“Who are you?” Whoever this was, they were certainly chatty. Again, he couldn't shake the feeling of familiarity. This voice, pattern of diction, sense of humor... where had he experienced this?

A beat of silence. Then a whistle. “He got you bad, huh?”

“...who?” he couldn’t help but dumbly ask again, but the fragments of memory were still floating about unclearly.

“Here, maybe this will help: I know something about Zhang Qiling that he himself doesn’t.”

He continued to frown, about to ask what exactly did he know about Xiaoge when—

And the memory floodgates opened — receiving that message in his takeout, running back to find the culprit, a car pulling up to reveal a familiar face (but whose?), and an ultimatum: come immediately or never find out. There were other flashes too — a lot of time on the road, the scenery boring as they passed, a bald man who glared at him with hatred, getting beaten, a long time in an empty storage room, light filtering through the barred windows... which came first and which came next? The continuous question of where did he go? What did they know about Xiaoge? 

After all of this came pulsing back, bringing with it a ferocious headache, he grumbled, “Such an obvious and classless trap…”

This time, he could actually hear the shrug as the voice pointed out, “And yet you still walked into it.”

Wu Xie opened his mouth to refute the statement, only to snap it close again. He really couldn’t say anything to that.

The other person scratched themselves. “I do wonder, do you really come running to anything involving Zhang Qiling? Why do I feel like an adult that just robbed a child of their candy?”

He refused to dignify that with a response.

A text notification went off, and he was spared the embarrassment of having to relive a less-than-finer moment.

“Well, I’m afraid I can’t keep you company anymore," his captor said, apparently standing up, from the shuffling sound of clothes. "It’s four in the afternoon now. Give it another hour or two before you remove your blindfold. I’ll have some people send up food then too.”

After the door closed, Wu Xie immediately pushed off the blindfold in childish defiance, which he’d mostly untied earlier. He instantly regretted the action though, as the light immediately stabbed his brain.

“Fuck!” he cried out, squeezing his eyes shut and mentally hearing that voice going, I told you so.

He settled for straining his eyes open in small intervals during which he glanced about the room. His captor didn’t seem to be lying. It was a hotel room of sorts, and a rather extravagant one at that, with what appeared to be a qilin² motif, of all things. He couldn’t quite look outside yet, given that the little light filtering through the drawn curtains was enough to send his brain reeling, but he was certain it would show Victoria Harbour, just as his captor said.

Another torrent of migraines pulsed through him, causing him to breath in sharply and quickly refix his blindfold. After the moment passed, and he managed to recover enough clarity beyond the pain to be aware of other sensations, he suddenly felt the urge to use the bathroom. He groped his way out of the bed and towards the right, which was where he’d spotted it earlier.

Once he’d reached the bathroom, he went in and pushed the door close, leaving it open only by a sliver, and took off his blindfold again.

Head still spinning, and movements a bit disoriented and delicate, he finished his business and stumbled over to the sink. Why is this bathroom so fucking large, he thought, a bit annoyed at the wealth his captor was displaying. He had to pause a couple of times to grip the edge of the sink to steady himself when another wave of pain coursed through. Feeling up his side, he winced as he hit the tender spots. He'd no doubt that were the lights on, his body would be mottled black and blue.

As he continued washing up, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, where the slight sliver of light illuminated the cuts and bruises on his face.

And suddenly, he remembered who it was who brought him here.

Chapter Text

Wu Xie was sitting at the edge of the bed when his captor returned to the room. He watched as his face — or rather, the imposter who used his face — adopted a curious expression. 

“I should have figured you wouldn’t listen and removed your blindfold early,” Zhang Haike¹ remarked casually, taking a seat in the armchair across and lighting a cigarette.

Wu Xie shot him a humorless smile, then scanned the room for cameras, which simply earned him a chuckle. “Relax, there are no cameras here. The guards posted outside just heard you cursing not long after I left,” came the other’s amused response.

"Still using my face? I know it's a good-looking one, but you should probably go back to your own at some point, lest you develop some identity disorder," he commented glibly.

Zhang Haike just smiled back. "Your concern is noted. Don't worry, I will. It's just that donning a mask for so long... well, it can take a while to shed entirely. And I still had some uses for it until recently."

"That's certainly a weird addiction," he remarked, arching a brow, but the other man just waved him off.

"Well enough about me," Zhang Haike diverted. "Let's talk about you. You helped us take down the Wang family. Or at the very least, deal a rather significant blow. On that, I have to thank you." 

Wu Xie scoffed. “Your Zhang family sure has a funny way of expressing gratitude to your ‘savior’,” he muttered, thinking back to when they'd last met and how the other man had identified him as the person who could save their family. It was this man who had set him on the path for war against the Wang family.²

“You do have our gratitude, and we do have ways of expressing it,” Zhang Haike said simply, exhaling a stream of smoke. “However, this and that are two separate matters.” He paused in momentary contemplation. “Well, mostly separate. It’s a matter that’s become of concern since the other one was put to rest.”

“Why do you want me to stay away from Xiaoge?” Wu Xie asked evenly, cutting to the chase but taking care to not reveal his impatience and provide the other any satisfaction. The sour feeling of being tested, being gauged from the first time he ever met the man lent him a sense of wariness.³

Zhang Haike paused, studying him for a moment. “You recovered your memory pretty quickly,” he commented, crossing a leg and resting his cigarette arm on his knee.

Wu Xie held his stare, an eerie mirror of his own. “You can keep me here. You can lock me up. You can kill me. But otherwise, you cannot make me stay away from Xiaoge, no matter how many times you beat me,” he spoke quietly, but firmly, even as the pain from his broken ribs continued to radiate.

Zhang Haike grimaced, then waved a hand. “Stop. You’re making me out to be a one-dimensional villain in a B-list movie who has no better pastime than to be a stumbling block for the main couple. It leaves such a bad taste in my mouth.”

Wu Xie opened his mouth to speak, but halted, unable to decide between feeling affront at the choice of metaphor and retorting that it kind of was exactly what the man appeared to be doing. How else was he supposed to interpret the sessions of continuous beatings, in which his key to salvation was the promise to never again see Zhang Qiling in this lifetime? Even thinking on it now, the words felt like such a terrible line of a poorly written drama.

“That man who beat you is dead,” Zhang Haike explained flippantly, snapping Wu Xie's attention back.

What? he wanted to ask, but the other must have observed his confusion and elaborated, “He was a Wang family spy who saw an opportunity for revenge and took it. Admittedly, he wasn’t supposed to be able to get you quite so badly...” Zhang Haike said a little irately, then offered an apologetic smile, though Wu Xie couldn’t really tell how sincere it was. “Apologies for that.”

Wu Xie didn’t bother acknowledging the statement, instead silently processing this for a moment and trying to sort out cause from effect. It clicked a few seconds later, after which he let out a huff. “Two birds, one stone?” he surmised coolly. "Do you get off on testing people or something?"

Zhang Haike let out a wolfish grin, appearing impressed. “You catch on quick, even after being concussed.” He leaned back in the armchair, propping both arms up. “We had our suspicions on him for a while. I gave him an opening, and even someone as careful as a Wang family member couldn’t resist the bait. He was to extract your promise to never see Zhang Qiling again using whatever methodology, but he should try not to kill you or permanently damage you.”

“And if he did?” Wu Xie countered smartly. Because it certainly felt like he almost did, was the thought he’d refused to vocalize. A pulse of pain swept through him at the reminder, and he barely held back a wince.

“Well, why do you think he’s dead now?” came the cavalier response. “He failed the test by trying to kill you. You don’t think I’d actually let you die?” his look-alike retorted, both brows arching sky-high.

He scoffed, a sudden rush of anger from current and past grievances cascading forth. He snapped, “I don’t know what to think anymore. I want to believe that your claim to be Xiaoge’s childhood friend is real. I want to believe you were always on our side, fighting the Wang family. I want to believe, which is why I tried not to suspect you. But last time, your sister tried to kill us—”

Zhang Haike’s expression darkened. “She was a mistake. And I told you after—”

“Sure, but then you disappeared with the bronze hexagonal bell, and then suddenly years later, you show up baiting me with sketchy info about Xiaoge’s background, clearly as a diversion tactic to prevent me from seeing Xiaoge—”

“Which you still fell for, might I again remind,” came the cheeky response.

“— and I did wonder, if you claim to be such a good friend of his, why not just tell him what he wants to know?” Here, he leveled a hard stare at the other man. “I’m here, because I trusted that you care, or at least did care, about Xiaoge.” At this, Zhang Haike appeared to soberize. “I wouldn’t have come with you otherwise. What, you really think I came on your words alone?” He paused to study Zhang Haike’s reaction, satisfied at the flat twitch of lips. Of course, he didn’t deem it necessary to inform the other that for a moment, he had also doubted himself, thinking he actually came on such a blatant bait alone; it would have been rather disappointing if that were the case.

He continued, “I may not understand your methods, or why you do the things the way you do them, but I trusted your intentions.” Zhang Haike let out a barely perceptible wince of guilt, which he noted. “However, I’m also no longer that blindly optimistic Xiao Tianzhen anymore. I know the terrifying depths of the human heart, what kind of things may lurk there, and the reality that many things can force out the darkest sides of even the most kind-hearted people.” 

He paused, inhaling deeply. “I think I deserve an explanation after being beaten black and blue. What the hell are you aiming for? Why test me?”

Zhang Haike studied him for a long time before letting out an insipid smile, remarking. “You have grown.”

Wu Xie said nothing, this time patiently waiting for the other to continue.

Zhang Haike sighed and took another long drag of his cigarette. “I didn’t think it likely, but I was kind of hoping you would just cave in, and then I could in good conscience just kill you, savior or not,” he acknowledged freely without the slightest trace of shame.

“You don’t particularly strike me as the kind of person who would let something like conscience get in the way of something that truly mattered,” Wu Xie returned. In the end, even I didn’t, he thought darkly.

Here, his doppleganger let out a sad smile, which took him a bit by surprise. “How do you know what truly matters though?” the other pondered quietly. But before he could dissect what those words meant, Zhang Haike sighed, “It wasn’t you I originally planned to bring here.”

This gave Wu Xie pause. He frowned, disliking the unsettling feeling that was beginning to form in his stomach. “What do you mean?” he asked cautiously.

Zhang Haike’s eyes met his, and the other spoke almost regretfully, “Zhang Qiling wasn’t supposed to walk out of the Bronze Gate with his memories intact."

Zhang Qiling laid on the top bunk of the sleeper train compartment, staring at the corner where the lining was beginning to peel. Below him, loud snores emanated from Pangzi. Hei Xiazi occupied the bottom bunk across from them, and Kan Jian the top.

The others were all asleep, but he alone couldn’t find any ability to rest. Instead, he found his mind drifting back to earlier events, before they departed.

“Nothing can delay Tianzhen from fulfilling his promise to Xiaoge, except for one thing,” Pangzi muttered, expression abruptly solemn. 

Slowly, all pairs of eyes fell on him.

That’s right, he thought with a sinking feeling. He was the one thing that always had Wu Xie jumping first, no questions asked. He thought back again to their close brushes with death in the Zhang Family Ancestral Mansion and how Wu Xie had stopped at nothing to come to his rescue, never hesitating in the face of danger if it meant helping him . 

And sure, it was evident that whatever force had pushed them all the way, clearly had involved Wu Xie from the beginning. Yet he also wondered, if it weren’t for him, would Wu Xie have become entangled in this plot so thoroughly?

“But Wu Xie isn’t that naive, not anymore,” Xie Yuchen pointed out. “He wouldn’t just be led around just because a Zhang walks by and dangles some mystery about Zhang Qiling in front of him,” he stated. Then, taking in the skeptical gazes and Zhang Qiling’s own scowl, his confidence in his own words waned and he grimaced a little, adding, “...would he?”

Everyone was silent, but it was evident no one thought it entirely outside the realms of possibility.

Finally, it was Hei Xiazi who broke the silence. “But what could Zhang family want with Wu Xie?”

Zhang family.

Every time he thought back to the mysteries of his background, and those of his ancestors, there was always a film of haze that needed to be pushed through. The details were always blurry and muffled, until it came time to put them to use. There was always an instinct, a drive that directed him towards what needed to be done. He never used to think much of it before — it was simply a struggle that would always exist, something he always had to fight. The information he needed would come when he needed it, and it wouldn’t when he didn’t. It was as though someone were manipulating the levers of memory in his mind, pushing forth and pulling back the relevant data based on the situation.

Before, he’d have no choice but to accept it as it was — forever chasing the next clue, the next hint, the next task that needed to be done. He’d always kept others at a distance as a result, faceless bystanders in a train station that wasn’t his destination and him alone in an empty carriage going somewhere he didn’t even know.

But then Wu Xie had forcibly pried open the doors to his carriage, and plopped himself down next to him uninvited, uncaring of where the train was headed. And suddenly, the outside world had a name, a face, and smelled of old paper and smoke. And slowly, in the fog of his memories there finally appeared a light. 

And now…. he’d be damned if he let anyone take that away from him. 

Even if it was his own Zhang family.

“He.. he remembers?” Wu Xie asked delicately, zeroing in on the meaning of Zhang Haike’s words and momentarily shutting out everything else, ignoring for a second what other implications may lie behind his words.

A swell of relief crashed over him, and he nearly cried out in response. Xiaoge is back, Xiaoge remembers, Xiaoge didn’t leave, he didn’t forget me, was all his mind could focus on. And suddenly, he was that young, naive boy again. The sudden lump in his throat was choking him in happiness, and he could feel the tears welling up in his eyes… but he soon collected himself, remembering his audience. He swallowed heavily and blinked back the tears, but allowed himself a small, satisfied smile.

Zhang Haike had frozen, watching him curiously. “That’s right… You didn’t know yet...” he muttered. Then, shaking himself free of a thought, said, “Yes, he does. In fact, his first words coming out of the Gate were to ask where you were. Adorable, isn’t it?”

Wu Xie tried not to look too giddy at those words and instead focused on the implications. “You were there?”

Zhang Haike sighed, leaning forward on his knees and tapping some ashes into a nearby ashtray. “Originally, I was only going to hold you in Hangzhou for a few days while we went up Changbai Mountain to pick up Zhang Qiling. Once we’d successfully picked him up and brought him here, I was going to let you go. Your shopkeeper, Wang Meng, had plans that coincided with ours, even though the motivations were different, so it served as a nice cover.”

“Wang Meng?” He frowned. “What kind of mutual goals would he have with—” And suddenly, he knew — Wang Meng’s displeasure as of late, his insistence on running the shop, his bitterness about being dragged into this thing and that… Initially, he thought it was all just that; Wu Xie would readily admit that he did not treat Wang Meng with the full respect he deserved. Indeed, he had Wang Meng serve at his beck and call over the years, and shamelessly disregarded the other’s thoughts and feelings. And so it would be little wonder that the latter felt resentment for that. But now, thinking back again through this lens… everything instantly became crystal clear, bringing with it a rush of guilt. 

“Xiao Sanye, what kind of personality you are, to have so many people so willing to go so far for you,” came Zhang Haike’s unhelpful commentary as he shook his head. Wu Xie chose not to respond, still trying to put away the inner turmoil the revelation about Wang Meng had brought about.

Zhang Haike did not wait, and continued his explanation, “If everything had gone swimmingly, we would have picked up Zhang Qiling, the presence of my men easily explained given Wang Meng had hired them, you would have been released after a few boring days in a storage room — perhaps not great for your joints, but you’ve had worse — and by the time you started giving chase, we would have been long gone, and you all would be none the wiser about the entirety of what happened.” He gave an et voila gesture and sat back in his chair.

Wu Xie, now recovered, stared him down hard. “I would have known to chase after you.”

“Oh I’ve no doubt you would have… if you remembered,” Zhang Haike countered with a wink. “I do have some tricks up my sleeves. And without knowing it was me, you would have followed any and all clues you had, and I had set up such a wonderful trail of breadcrumbs that would have led you all on a merry goose chase to and around the Xinjiang region rather than hunting in the direction you did. We Zhang family members are quite good at that, as you might recall.⁴”

Sure he did. Wu Xie thought back again to how he’d ended up meeting the man in the first place, but chose not to comment. “Oh? And what direction is that?” he instead probed, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

Zhang Haike smiled. “Do you want to know? Where your friends are currently at?”

“Only if you’re willing to share,” he casually shrugged, careful not to betray any emotion.

The other man offered a thoughtful look. “You know, I can kind of understand why villains like to explain everything they did now. I was rather upset knowing that the rest of my brilliant plan would never get to see the light of day, and now I feel like I’ve been given a sort of release.” He let out a childish grin.

“Your words,” Wu Xue muttered with an arched brow.

“Well, think of me what you want. I don’t actually care,” Zhang Haike said with a shrug. “Anyway, when Zhang Qiling didn’t lose his memories stepping out the Gate… Well, I couldn’t exactly bring him here against his will. I had to improvise, hence why you were brought here instead. Last I checked, your friends have caught on and are headed here as well. I thought we’d have a bit more time, but... ah.”

Wu Xie still had so many questions — Why do this? Why tell me? What are you planning to do once they arrive? What do you want with Xiaoge? —  But he wasn’t sure which one to ask, so he kept silent.

In the end, it was Zhang Haike himself who provided one, “Once your friends find us, you will be free to go.”

He blinked. Well, that was one question answered, but it brought forth only more questions. “Why?” he could only ask.

Zhang Haike just offered an unfathomable expression. “Because I’m hoping that once I explain to you why I’m doing all this, you will understand and make the choice yourself… the choice to cut your ties with Zhang Qiling.”

Chapter Text

“Because I’m hoping that once I explain to you why I’m doing all this, you will understand and make the choice yourself… the choice to cut your ties with Zhang Qiling.”

“Never,” Wu Xie hissed without hesitation, eyes ablaze with resolution. 

Zhang Haike expected this and let out a sad smile. “I knew you’d say that. Which is why I didn’t want to force you into a choice in the first place.“ He looked away, suddenly unable to stomach the brightness of the other man’s gaze. “Honestly, this would have been much kinder for you, for Zhang Qiling, if my plan succeeded. If Zhang Qiling hadn’t remembered anything coming out of the Gate, I could have him resituated in a world without you. You would, perhaps, chase his shadow for years to come, but one day, you might eventually give up, make peace with it. It would be a sad parting, but not something you’re entirely unaccustomed to.”

Wu Xie didn’t respond, but he could sense the resentment building up. For your own good  were probably the four words the Wu family scion hated hearing the most, he knew. 

“Even if you are his family, I won’t let you lock him away and take on your family’s burden all by himself,” Wu Xie resolved with a heated gaze. “He’s suffered enough on his own all these years. You all did a shit job of supporting him. I was the one by his side all that time. And now you’re telling me to scram? What, so you can rebuild your Zhang family into that crazy secret order society that invited enemies like the Wang family in the first place?” Wu Xie was breathing heavily when he finished, his chest clearly still bothering him, but not enough to dim the fervor in his eyes.

Zhang Haike studied him for a moment, then sighed. “I think you’re misunderstanding something here...” He blinked, then asked, “Will you allow me to tell you a story?”

Wu Xie scowled, but the tension in his frame gradually ebbed a fraction, and he leaned back slightly with a shrug.

And so he began, “Long ago, there was a family that was given an important task by the Queen Mother of the West. The task was to guard a secret — a secret pertaining to longevity. It would be a task that spanned many many generations. In return, and to help with this task, they were gifted with a special qilin blood, one of the properties of this blood being longevity. The existence of this family was a secret in and of itself, and for a long time, they maintained the balance of power in society.”¹

Wu Xie rolled his eyes, raising a hand mockingly. “Professor, I’ve heard this lecture already. Although I will say your storytelling game has improved.² Bravo.”

But Zhang Haike just shot him a look and continued. “However, all secrets get out eventually, and this one was no different. When a tomb architect discovered the existence, power, and special abilities of this family, he started his own clan to combat them and to uncover the secret they were trying to hide. The massive feud between these two families thus went on for hundreds of years. Eventually, the guardians of the secret were crippled. They splintered off into factions, and the main branch dwindled until only one true descendant was left.”

Here, he paused to ensure Wu Xie was listening. The other just returned him a cool smile, crossed his arms, and nodded for him to continue.

“The branch family of those guardians, who was also part of a set of tomb-raiding families called the Mystic Nine, tried to help continue to uphold the task. And at some point, another Mystic Nine member discovered that there was something that wasn’t quite right; something was interfering from the shadows. He eventually splintered off to make his own plans to combat this mysterious force in the shadows, the ‘tenth’ family, which turned out to be the same family trying to uncover those deeply guarded secrets.”

“This lecture would have been more useful the last time we met, but thank you for the heads up back then,” Wu Xie interrupted sardonically.

An unimpressed look crossed Zhang Haike’s visage. “There were a lot of factors at play, and you were at the eye of it. I told you what I could, and no more.” Here, he paused, and after ascertaining Wu Xie had no more snide comments to add, resumed. “Their struggles and prayers were finally answered one day, when the man’s grandson was born, because it was this boy who would have the capabilities to free them of their control by this force, and break them free of the chains of fate. And after a long, harrowing struggle, the boy— then having become a man, succeeded.”

“No need to thank me,” Wu Xie retorted with fake modesty.

“And now, the fight is over,” Zhang Haike continued, ignoring the remark.

“Is it?”

“For now,” he conceded, then resumed, “And the man is finally free.” He then paused, staring at Wu Xie full-on.

Wu Xie caught the change in mood and contributed, “But…” 

“But his role as a breaker of fate does not stop there,” Zhang Haike finished.

“...”

He then dropped the pretense of narration and spoke to Wu Xie directly, “You were raised by Wu Laogou, hidden from the influences of the Wang family as much as possible so that you could tear them apart from the outside. You were raised to destroy that control, the reins of fate that the Wang family held. But did you forget? Who the original holders of that rein were?”

He watched as Wu Xie shifted a little uncomfortably, bracing himself for the unpleasant words that would drop. He inhaled deeply, gaze locking onto the other’s, before saying, “It is an inevitability that one day, what you will destroy is the Zhang family itself. You may be our so-called ‘savior’, but at the same time you are also our reaper.”

Wu Xie stared back for a beat before scoffing. “What kind of bullshit is that? You just called me a… what was it? A ‘breaker of fate’?” he blinked in innocent confusion, “and then you turn around and tell me there’s such an ‘inevitability’?” His brows disappeared into his hairline. A beat later, he dropped the act. “Why would I want to destroy the Zhang family? How could I do something that hurts Xiaoge? Even if I wanted to, aren't you underestimating your patriarch a bit?”

Zhang Haike shook his head. “This is different. That was the fate of man, as decided by man. This is the inevitability as determined by the natural order of the world — a very simple cause and effect. You may break the fate man holds over the world, but even you cannot defy the natural order.”

Wu Xie’s expression was still one of exasperated confusion. “What are you talking about? Can you speak a human language³?”

Zhang Haike’s lips thinned, and he exhaled noisily through his nostrils. “Because you’re you. And Zhang Qiling is Zhang Qiling.” And adding the last part in an almost whisper, “And I’m afraid it might already be too late.”

But before Wu Xie could make another remark, he continued, “Why do you think the Zhang family sealed itself off to outsiders, forcing its members to intermarry?”

Wu Xie blinked, keenly wary of the apparent ease of this question. “To retain purity of the qilin blood of course. You told me as much last time. But Xiaoge’s mother wasn’t a Zhang, and he turned out fine, which means that’s a load of—”

“Which means that it wasn’t the main reason,” Zhang Haike cut him off.

Wu Xie quieted.

“Do you know why Zhang Qiling has to guard the Bronze Gate?” he asked another question instead.

The other man scowled, responding, “You know I don’t. You were the one who took off with the bell.⁴ I only know it contains some secret pertaining to longevity.”

“But do you know why Zhang Qiling decides to guard the Bronze Gate?” he pressed.

“He sees it as his duty, as the last—” Wu Xie started, unsure of where this was all going.

“Ah. There it is.” Zhang Haike interrupted, leaning back and closing his eyes momentarily.

“What?” Wu Xie countered, slightly miffed at the mysterious line of questioning and strange interruptions.

“You say ‘duty’,” he pointed out.

“...Something wrong with that? It’s his duty, isn’t it?”

“Nothing’s wrong with it,” he confirmed. “It’s exactly what any of us would say. It’s not something any of us would understand. It’s not something anyone who’s not a Zhang, a true Zhang, would fully understand, because only they know the secret and understand the true importance of it. It is their duty, certainly. But it is more than that; it is their existence. They exist for this secret.”

Wu Xie remained silent, mulling over the statement. 

He proceeded, “The Zhang family didn’t allow marriage to the outside world, only in part because of the qilin blood. But largely, it was because relations with the outside would only end in pain and misery.” Here, he once again found Wu Xie’s gaze. “To bring in an outsider, who could never be taught the secret, who could never truly understand your existence the way you did yourself, why you make the choices you do... Can’t you see how painful that is?”

He watched as the understanding started to creep in, watched as the lines of uncertainty began to form on the other’s face. “But…” Wu Xie began, unwilling to accept where he was going with this, “Xiaoge himself has always been trying to understand this, he’s been trying to understand his existence. How can it be then that the whole meaning of his existence is this… this duty? He always said he was searching...” Wu Xie trailed off a bit weakly.

He observed the other fumbling with the thought a bit more, then offered, “You know, most people think that the Zhang family’s amnesia is a hereditary disease, a sort of compromise made in exchange for longevity and the result of in-breeding.” 

He halted, taking in the deepening frown on Wu Xie’s features, then said, “In reality, it’s an adaptation, a coping mechanism. The Zhang family may have longevity spanning hundreds of years, but they’re still humans. They felt loss, pain, longing, heartbreak… But over time, these sorts of emotions would compromise their abilities to fulfill their task, and so… they shut it off.” 

He made a gesture and contemplated the way the gears turned in Wu Xie’s head. “Even normal humans experience this, where a particularly traumatic or painful memory gets sealed off. The Zhang family simply adopted a more pre-emptive approach, and passed this adaptation on to their descendants. Nothing to compromise their duty, their existence.” He took another drag of his cigarette, exhaling slowly. “Whenever the burden of everything becomes too heavy, they’re granted a clean slate, free to start over, only slowly picking up the burdensome memories when it’s time to fulfill their duties once more.”

Wu Xie silently took all of this in, the revelation starting to draw him a new reality from the one he’d known before.

Perhaps in another lifetime, Zhang Haike would have found he didn’t have the heart to continue. He felt a pang in his chest as he saw the confidence in the other man start to crumble. It really would have been kinder, if the two of you never met, he thought regretfully. But he was a Zhang, even if not a true one, and he was the only one in the world who could put Zhang Qiling above everyone else, including himself, and not bring him much more suffering in the process.

And so, he continued. “But this mechanism isn’t flawless.” Then, leaning forward to search out the other’s gaze, he asked almost cruelly, “Tell me, Wu Xie. Do you know how to kill a god?”

—

Tell me, Wu Xie. Do you know how to kill a god?

“I...” Wu Xie swallowed, unwilling and unable to respond, the foreboding sense of where this was all headed starting to manifest painfully. What are you trying to say, he was too hesitant to ask, but also knew the other would provide unsolicited.

Zhang Haike looked away, a rueful smile on his lips. “Gods are immortal, and they thrive on the prayers of the common people. In return, they perform their duties to the people — to act impartially, justly and fairly; to bring order where there’s chaos, to bring hope where there’s despair.”

“Yet a god is only able to perform their duties and thrive when they remain unattached to the realm of mortals. When the day comes that the god can no longer remain impartial to the affairs of men, no longer put their duty before the interests of any single mortal, because they’ve formed a bond, a new reason for their existence…“ Zhang Haike trailed off. 

Wu Xie could feel the other’s gaze falling upon him again, but refused to meet it. Because he knew where the other was going with this. He knew, but it was too ridiculous and melodramatic, wasn’t it? He knew this… so why was his heart starting to pound in anxiety?

“You kill a god, first, by giving them a new reason, a mortal reason, to live. Then, by destroying that very reason,” Zhang Haike finished quietly, solemnly, gaze never leaving Wu Xie’s figure. He paused, seemingly hesitant, but finally said, “Your entanglement with Zhang Qiling will inevitably lead him to his death, well ahead of his time.” 

Wu Xie could only let out a sharp bitter laugh, ignoring the way his chest tightened from the revelation. No , he denied, a little too vehemently. We both lead dangerous lives anyway, he reasoned. We could die at any time; that’s just our trade, he told himself. Well, with the Wang family mostly collapsed, he supposed that no longer held as much truth. Still, it was too stupid and silly, and sounded much too like something out of a tragic romance novel, and Menyouping⁵ wasn’t that kind of person. He was always focused on his duty, to the utter frustration of Wu Xie. Everyone was an outsider. He never stopped for anyone, never cared for other people’s feelings. He wasn’t the kind to...

“I… you’re overestimating my importance,” he swallowed, acquiring a sense of comfort from his own words, though the admission also carried a simultaneous twinge of hurt. “Xiaoge wouldn’t— He isn’t the kind to— ”

“Am I?” Zhang Haike raised a brow, and leveled a question at him, “What did he tell you before going up to the Bronze Gate?”

And Wu Xie remembered:

The unexpected visit from Xiaoge one day, to bid farewell. The humid autumn evening, still grasping onto the lingering warmth of summer, with a view of West Lake behind them. His idiotic inability to read the situation, to grasp what Xiaoge meant when he said he was leaving for someplace far away. And then his words — Thinking back, the only connection I have to this world now, is you.⁶

Wu Xie’s eyes widened, mind falling into a slight disarray. But that wasn’t what Xiaoge meant, he thought anxiously. He just finally managed to say something sweet for once. He… Then, another part of his mind whispering, Since when did Xiaoge say anything that wasn’t serious?

Zhang Haike interrupted his thoughts by saying, “I may not know what he said to you, but I know this: he came out of the Gate with his memories intact. He came out of the Gate, remembering you, because he willed it. And that’s enough to tell me that I’m already one step too late.” A rueful expression fell over his visage.

“The burdensome secrets he carries, he’ll now never be able to lay down, yet still never be able to share. In life, you will have condemned him to an impossible choice. You’ve thought about it before, haven’t you? Why must he do this, marching entirely to the beat of a drum no one but him could hear? If only there wasn’t the secret to be guarded, if only Zhang Qiling would just stop and stay, if only the Gate didn’t exist… you’d destroy it if you could. But what you don’t, and can’t understand, and what he will never be able to have you understand, is why — Why he must do this, continue to shoulder this burden.”

Wu Xie couldn’t say anything to that, because everything Zhang Haike spoke of was painfully accurate. When Xiaoge came to him, came to find him in his shop to say goodbye and later following Xiaoge up the mountain, he had been so desperate, so eager at the opportunity to hold onto Xiaoge a little while longer, to maybe for once convince him to stay… he never really thought about what it was that Xiaoge wanted, what he must have felt to have done the things he did, while doing the things he did. And now, the horrifying, shameful realization of his own selfishness, alongside the depth and meaning behind Xiaoge’s actions, which to him at the time were still a tangle of inexplicable events, came crashing down on him. 

But Zhang Haike was not done. “And at the end of it all…. Do you think he would survive your death?”

Wu Xie was quiet for a long time before responding. It wasn’t that he hadn’t thought about it before. He knew he would pass long before the other, and it always used to sadden him slightly, but ultimately provided him with a sense of relief knowing that after they — him and Pangzi — passed, Xiaoge would one day forget them. But now… 

“...He would,” he still let out, needing to convince himself of this truth. “Everyone has to deal with grief and loss, and he’d forget me… eventually...” he trailed off, the confidence in this outcome beginning to wane.

Zhang Haike laughed a bit coldly. “Not everyone lives numerous lifespans; for them, their mortality is their antidote. And… maybe. Maybe he’d forget you. It’s what I hope would happen, by separating the two of you. But right now… he’s already breaking through the Zhang family protection seal. For you. What will happen when you share another decade, or two, or however many with him?”

Wu Xie found himself completely unable to answer.

“How many years of darkness do you think he’d be able to suffer before ending it all? Or worse yet, perhaps never ending it at all? Forever torn between the two meanings of his existence - what he was born for, and what he would die for.” Here, Zhang Haike’s gaze softened, turning into one of pity. “Harming Zhang Qiling might be the last thing you want to do, but don’t you see? You truly are the breaker of fate.”

Chapter Text

“Zhang Haike, that bastard. I’ll punch his face the moment I see him. It’s so damn punchable too,” Pangzi muttered, savagely tearing into his cold meat bun, which served as a quick breakfast before their upcoming arrival in Macau.

“But Pangye, didn’t you say this Zhang Haike has the same face as laoban?” Kan Jian piped up curiously.

Pangzi snorted. “Tianzhen definitely has a punchable face if you didn’t know him well. Ask him yourself when we rescue his sorry ass; he’d agree.¹ Why else would we always have such shit luck with zombies always going after us?”

After deducing the previous day that it was likely the Zhang family behind all of this instead, they combed through all their clues again from the new angle — the ability to avoid the harpies, the ‘disappearing tattoos’, the dead Wang member, the casino in Macau with a sighting of Wu Xie… and it was then that Pangzi remembered the man who wore Wu Xie’s face — Zhang Haike. Those damned Hong Kong Zhangs, Pangzi had muttered.

He then recounted everything that had happened in Motuo — Zhang Haike’s appearance and his terrible test, learning about Zhang Qiling’s past, the Zhang family history, the hexagonal bronze bells, and their expedition to the fake Bronze Gates.

It was with this new information that they then separated and made their way to Hong Kong / Macau.

“I just still don’t get it though,” Pangzi mumbled.

“Get what?” Kan Jian asked. 

“Assuming it is Zhang Haike, what does he want with Tianzhen?” he pondered, shaking his head. “It was a bit of a disaster towards the end… but I can’t think of doing anything that might have mortally offended him. I mean, OK, us leaving his sister to die was not great, but we had no choice! And she was a fucking Wang spy trying to kill us! Plus, he didn’t seem that put out by her death, just annoyed. Zhang family members really do have some fucked up emotional responses — no offense, Xiaoge. Anyway, he’s the one that asked us for help. That’s a hell of a way to repay us, no?” Then, turning to Zhang Qiling, noted, “Xiaoge, this was your childhood friend. You don’t… have any inkling?”

But Zhang Qiling just shook his head. “Don’t remember.”

Pangzi sighed. “I suppose. Even I don’t remember the rascals I grew up with if I haven’t kept up  with them…” And suddenly, struck by some inspiration, he exclaimed, “It can’t actually be to treat him to a round of hot pot, right? To thank him for kicking Wang family butt?” He blinked, scratching his chin. “They’d had to have invited me along as well, at the very least, right?”

A text notification went off.

Hei Xiazi glanced down at his phone, then contributed a moment later, “Looks like Huaye just arrived at the hotel. He’s going over the logistical plan with Er Shu.”

“We storming the stronghold?” Pangzi asked, pantomiming a machine gun. “Ocean’s Eleven style?”

Kan Jian frowned. “I thought Ocean’s Eleven was about deception, not force.”

Pangzi just snapped a finger, “ Exactly …” and winked at a confused Kan Jian. “Kan Jian, my good brother, finally someone who speaks my language,” he said almost tearfully.

A few more notifications sounded, and Hei Xiazi followed up with, “Seems they’re just going to do a sweep of the casino first. We’ll regroup with them and discuss next steps once they come back with some intel.”

Just then, the train announcement signaled that they were due to arrive in Macau soon.

“Alright. Let’s go get back our Tianzhen. Zhang Haike, just you wait!”

He stared dazedly at the extravagant flush ceiling light that appeared to be a modern take on a qilin. Was everything here a goddamned qilin? Damn that Zhang Haike, he thought bitterly, scowling at the display, then closed his eyes and tossed an arm over them.

Harming Zhang Qiling might be the last thing you want to do, but don’t you see? You truly are the breaker of fate.

Zhang Haike’s words cut through him unforgivingly, and he was left grappling for the slightest strength for denial but coming up empty. What could he say?

Ten years…

He’d waited for ten fucking years…

Ever since that day he woke up alone on that mountain, he’d constantly recall Xiaoge’s words, his promise — Ten years later, if you still remember me, you can open the Gate to succeed me . And he’d calmly and naively abided by that promise all these years. Because he was so stupid and didn’t even see how that one little detail brought him so much comfort. It was supposed to be his turn… yet Xiaoge had gone in his place.

Succeed?

Now he knew it was all a load of bollocks. Who knew Menyouping had become adept enough at human emotions that he would lie to assuage guilt?

Did Xiaoge even anticipate coming back out of the Gate at the time? Or did he originally even intend to return at all?

And here, he thought he was no longer the naive, soft-hearted boy of ten years past. Thinking back, whenever it came to the mysterious Zhang Qiling, it was like he’d invariably lose all sense and sensibilities. How could he have been so blind?

He only ever knew how to trail after the other like a lost puppy, sticking to him like a leech, and being upset at the way the man would still manage to ditch them without so much as a nod, as though they were baggage that ought to be shed at the first opportunity. God, hadn’t he been the one who pitched a tantrum at Menyouping leaving them so quickly after the ordeal at Zhang Family Ancestral Mansion, infuriated at the other’s apparent indifference?²

He thought he was forever chasing an unattainable silhouette.

How was it that he hadn’t even considered that Xiaoge had changed?

I’ve come to say goodbye.

He was such a goddamned idiot. Since when did Xiaoge say goodbyes at all? All the signs were there now, radiating brightly — almost tauntingly — in hindsight. He was just too blind to notice, so accustomed to chasing Xiaoge’s silhouette, that he never realized the other had already turned around to watch him from afar.

The realization brought him both a wave of pure joy and a swell of profound sorrow. Joy — that what he’d been reaching for all these years had finally reached back and grabbed hold of him tightly. Sorrow — that his simple act of reaching had now condemned the most important person in his life to such anguish.

To bring in an outsider, who could never be taught the secret, who could never truly understand your existence the way you did yourself, why you make the choices you do... Can’t you see how painful that is?

Zhang Qiling was a man who embodied mystery, and for Wu Xie’s curious nature, it was like finding the everlasting drug that could feed his ever-growing addiction. There were so many unanswered questions about the man, he could spend a lifetime untangling them and still never reach the center of it all. Some of it were mysteries Xiaoge himself knew, but just wouldn’t share. Others were mysteries even he himself didn’t know.

God, how selfish he’d been. All this time, he'd been pursuing Xiaoge's mysteries as a way of bringing meaning to his own life.³ He’d never considered the consequences of all his prying, his inquiries, seemingly innocuous, his insistence on diving headfirst into danger, into the heart of everything that was Zhang Qiling… never considered what that meant for Xiaoge himself. What was the man thinking under that perpetual expressionless facade? He always thought Xiaoge said so little because he held little regard for everyone around him, which may very well be true. He even weighed in pretty heavily on the notion that Xiaoge found him incredibly annoying, thus taking to ignoring his incessant questions. And perhaps that was also true in the beginning.

But that the other simply didn’t because he couldn’t figure out how to convey something, or couldn’t afford to convey something? All those moments where he’d dumped his frustrations at being kept in the dark on Xiaoge… when all the while, the other was struggling so desperately to keep him from harm... wanting, but unable to share the truths that burdened him, because he never wanted the same burdens to fall on Wu Xie. Xiaoge never told him anything like for your own good, never bothered with such bromides, because he'd rather take on all of Wu Xie's criticism than experience the alternative...

Wu Xie felt like the world’s biggest jerk.

And at the end of it all…. Do you think he would survive your death?

From the recesses of his mind came another ominous echo — There will come a day, where one will cause the death of the other.

Panma was right. He let out a bitter laugh and swallowed back the lump in his throat.

An image of Xiaoge wandering alone from one era to another came unbidden into his mind. Xiaoge, walking into an empty Wushanju, and eventually a spot where Wushanju simply used to be. Xiaoge, visiting his and Pangzi’s graves, no one else around to provide any comfort, since the two people who would have were already right there in front of him. It hurt in ways he didn’t think possible.

If only Pangzi were here, he’d be laughing at this ridiculous tragic conundrum that Wu Xie had landed himself in. The hell is this, Lord of the Rings? You two role-playing Arwen and Aragorn? Next thing you know, Xiaoge’s gonna spout ‘I would rather share one lifetime with you than face all the ages of this world alone. 

At this, he couldn’t help but dissolve into a fit of choked laughter, imagining Menyouping of all people saying something as cheesy as that.

Slowly, the short-lived humor faded.

When he saw the movie, he’d rolled his eyes at the drama of it all, though admitted it made for a good line. Never had he imagined life would deal him such a script. Now it no longer seemed so hilarious, and he finally felt the true unfairness of it all. Xiaoge may not be a true immortal being and would die someday, but Wu Xie’s heart still ached unbearably at the thought of just how many lifetimes the other would have to wander through alone, carrying such a heavy burden while having lost so much…

Unless he doesn’t lose that much, a small part of his mind suggested.

He lay there, mind numb.

Was he selfish?

I’m hoping that once I explain to you why I’m doing all this, you will understand and make the choice yourself… the choice to cut your ties with Zhang Qiling.

Afterwards, Zhang Haike had left, telling him to sleep on it, and that he’d give him a day and night to think it over.

But Wu Xie suspected he wouldn’t be able to arrive at the right answer even if he had all the time in the world.

Wu Erbai had booked a presidential suite for them to convene in and lay out logistics.

“There was no sight of Xiao Sanye or Zhang Haike’s men. We did ask around though, and it seems Zhang Haike is an investor in this establishment, which is why he shows up here from time to time,” Er Jin stated, arms folded across his chest as he stared at the spread of papers on the table in front of him.

“You can never trust rich bastards…” Pangzi grumbled, to which Xie Yuchen raised an elegant brow. “Never you, of course, Huaye,” he amended quickly with a propitiating smile.

“I’ve had some men start pulling up all of Zhang Haike’s real-estate assets and others collecting profiles of the Zhangs in Hong Kong. Of course, all this sniffing around is bound to arouse suspicion, so we better move quickly. We don’t know what Zhang Haike wants with Xiao Sanye, but we should anticipate ill-will until proven otherwise. Last thing we need is to turn this into an active hostage situation.”

Wu Erbai then took over, saying, “Xiao Xie’s safety is of utmost concern… depending on how many hits we get on Zhang Haike’s properties, we may be able to start conducting some sweeps as soon as tonight.”

“You got it, Er Shu. Just point us in a direction,” Pangzi said.

Just then, there was a knock at the door.

“Come in,” Wu Erbai responded, and the door opened to reveal Kan Jian. 

“Er Shu…” he started a little uncertainly.

“That was quick. Did you pick up the package I asked for?”

Kan Jian looked around uncomfortably. “Sort of… it just… well, it came with some people,” he finally let out. Everyone looked up.

“People?” Wu Erbai echoed, straightening up in suspicion.

Kan Jian nodded. “They… they seem to be from the uh… the Zhang family?” he finished hesitantly.

Instantly, everyone was on alert.

“And you led them to our door?” Pangzi cried out incredulously.

“If they could find us this quickly, then I doubt the lack of a room number is why they haven’t come barging in already,” Xie Yuchen commented drily. Then to Kan Jian, “How many are they?”

“Just two.”

Wu Erbai frowned, remaining silent for a second. “Messengers then. Well, might as well see what they have to say. Kan Jian, let them in.”

Kan Jian nodded.

The room was on high tension when a pair of suits walked in. It was rather comical, almost something out of an old Cantonese action film, the way these two were dressed and styled. 

Zhang Qiling edged his way forward, frame tense.

The pair of strangers swept the room visually and settled on Zhang Qiling. Then one of them spoke, “Our boss would like to extend his welcome for you to join him at the Crane Pavilion Hotel on Hong Kong Island.”

“Your boss being…?” Xie Yuchen drawled.

Sunglasses-clad eyes turned almost robotically to Xie Yuchen. “Don’t you already know?” Then after a beat, he added, “Zhang Haike.”

The jump in animosity in the room was palpable, with Zhang Qiling casting a particularly dark scowl at the pair.

“Uh… how about this. Why don’t you leave us a business card with your boss’s contact info, and then we’ll decide in our own time whether or not to accept your most generous offer of welcome?” Pangzi counter-offered insincerely with a thin smile.

The man who had spoken then turned to the second man and motioned towards the group, instantly setting everyone on higher tension. Then, to their surprise, the second man reached into his jacket pocket to pull, not a gun, but a box. He then walked over to Zhang Qiling and presented him with the box, opening it for him to reveal an ornate silver thumb ring that had an intricate relief of a qilin wrapping its way around. “The Zhang family of Hong Kong welcomes the Zhang family patriarch, Zhang Qiling. Please accept this token as a symbol of your status and bring it with you when you come to the hotel.

Pangzi scoffed angrily. “You people still know to recognize your family’s patriarch? What the hell are you playing at then, kidnapping one of his own?”

Zhang Qiling refused to budge, staring coldly instead at the man before him, a hair trigger away from attacking. The only thing that held him back was the cool rationale reminding him of the way Zhang family operated — always precisely with purpose, with no room for weakness. Messengers carried messages only, and no more; threatening these men would not bring him any closer to Wu Xie. 

“Our boss has his reasons. Do not worry; you will see him in due time if you come to the hotel.” He then motioned for Zhang Qiling to take the box again, and only once the other slowly and begrudgingly did, vicious glare never leaving black sunglasses, did he then step away. 

“Tell your boss,” Pangzi growled menacingly, “That if he has so much as touched one hair on Wu Xie, then he’d better start looking for a new place to set up shop, because there will be hell to pay.”

The threat did little to perturb the pair, who simply ignored it entirely. “There will be cars ready for you downstairs should you choose to take them. Accommodations will also be provided for you should you choose to change lodgings. Our boss has business with Wu-laoban today, but he will be free to return with you first thing tomorrow morning.

“The fuck kind of business you talking about, huh?” Pangzi barked out, instantly suspicious. 

“You’ll find out once you come,” was the frustratingly bland answer.

Pangzi took one step forward, hand twitching. “You think we won’t try to beat it out of you right here and now?”

“Enough, Pangzi,” Wu Erbai finally cut in. “I doubt they actually know anything. And even if they did, it wouldn’t be worth the effort extracting that information.” Then to the pair, “We will make our own way there in a couple of hours.”

With that, the two men dipped their heads in acknowledgement and took their leave.

After they’d gone, Pangzi let out a string of curses. “Why does it feel like we’re just Sun Wukong flying around in Buddha’s palm?⁴ They must’ve been watching our movements from the get-go.”

“If that’s the case, it could only mean they expected us and didn’t care that we would find them.” Xie Yuchen sighed. “I guess the only good news is that Wu Xie is at least alive, and it didn’t sound like anything too menacing. I’m just at a loss as to why they would do this still…”

“It can’t actually be that they want to give him the shovel talk, right?” Pangzi suddenly switched gears again, opting for a more ridiculous theory. Then turning to Zhang Qiling, he followed up, “Xiaoge, you don’t think this is all an elaborate plan for your family to threaten to break his legs or something if he breaks your heart, right? I mean, that’s a little dramatic, right? But then again, I suppose of all people to give a shovel talk in your family, it would be Zhang Haike… but that’s just kind of sad, isn’t it? That your closest relative might be that bastard.. Still, I thought the shovel talk was supposed to be from the bride’s friends and family to the groom. Like, I might have to give you the shovel talk, but that’d be a little weird because—”

His ponderings were cut short by Xie Yuchen clearing his throat, shooting him a particular look, then glancing discreetly in Wu Erbai’s direction.

Pangzi mouthed an ‘oh shit’ and anxiously glanced over at Wu Erbai, who apparently took a sudden interest in the crown molding of the suite and started muttering something about troublesome nephews never letting their uncles catch a break. Blinking at the latter’s reaction, he glanced back and forth between Wu Erbai and Xie Yuchen a couple times before raising a questioning eyebrow at Xie Yuchen while gesturing silently towards Wu Erbai.

Xie Yuchen appeared confused as well, but then just shrugged.

Pangzi slowly shook his head in disbelief. He then turned and walked over to Zhang Qiling and clapped a hand on the other’s shoulder, muttering lowly, “Brother, I don’t know if Er Shu knowing would be better or worse, but I wish you luck either way.”

Zhang Qiling just blinked at him.

The next morning, Zhang Haike made his way to Wu Xie’s room, knocking twice before entering.

Wu Xie stood in the middle of the room, hands tucked into his pockets and facing away from him, when he entered. Without saying anything, he sat down in a nearby chair and signaled for some whiskey, waiting for the other to speak.

“This sort of thing… there’s no right answer,” Wu Xie spoke quietly. He then turned to face Zhang Haike, expression solemn. “But… I’ve made my decision.” 

Chapter Text

~ Previous Day

In the end, they did make their own way over to Hong Kong Island, turning down Zhang Haike’s 'most kind and generous' offer. Upon arrival, they were taken to a large ornate conference room with a massive table carved from red oak as the centerpiece. The ceiling was vaulted, with a ring of lighting that highlighted the expansive relief of a crane dancing around a dragon.

None of them paid any of these details much mind though, dismissing the ostentatiousness; they had more pressing matters on their mind. Although Zhang Haike had offered them individual rooms to stay the night, they all stubbornly refused the offer, demanding instead to see Wu Xie right away.

“Boss gave instructions. Wu-laoban will be released to you tomorrow morning. Until then, you’ll have to sit tight,” one of the goons unhelpfully recited.

“Then you don’t mind if we take a little stroll and start knocking on each door, hmm?” Pangzi growled viciously into their faces, cracking his knuckles. 

“You are allowed to keep to this room, or take up our offer of residence on the twentieth floor. All other floor accesses are prohibited. And you will not be able to access them with your keys.”

Pangzi snorted, and turning to Zhang Qiling, proposed, “What about it, Xiaoge? Should we fight our way through? See just what the fuck these dumbasses think they can prohibit us from?” 

Zhang Qiling took a threatening step forward and leveled a chilling gaze at them. “Return Wu Xie to us,” he demanded quietly in a tone that brooked no argument.

Pangzi smirked, jabbing a thumb in Zhang Qiling’s direction. “Hear that? That’s your family’s patriarch, giving you a fucking order. I may not participate in your Zhang family’s fucked up hierarchy, but you certainly seem like you do. So why don't you hurry the fuck along and give us our Tianzhen back, and maybe we'll consider not trashing your stupidly posh hotel?”

Under Zhang Qiling’s menacing glare, the two goons grew hesitant and turned to each other. 

One of the goons frowned, then turned away to whisper something in Cantonese into his earpiece. A moment later, he said, “Boss will be down now. He will speak to you all.” They both then hastily made their exit.

“Seems like these two have less spine than the last two,” scoffed Xie Yuchen, now unfolding his arms and relaxing a bit after the two left.

“Or they knew how to properly respect our Xiaoge’s authority,” harrumphed Pangzi, throwing an arm around Zhang Qiling’s shoulders, which earned him an unimpressed glance and prompted him to gingerly retract his arm with an awkward clearing of his throat.

A few minutes later, the door opened to reveal Zhang Haike flanked by a man and a woman.

Hei Xiazi was the first to react, letting out a low whistle and remarking, “Wow, he really does look like Wu Xie, huh… that’s a weirdass hobby.”

Pangzi immediately shot forward, only to be met with the two individuals flanking Zhang Haike mirroring the movement. “Tch,” he let out, then commented acidly, “This how your Zhang family branch treats its saviors? Kidnapping them? Jeez, I’d hate to see what you do to your enemies…" Here, he made an exaggerated expression of remembering. "...oh wait, you couldn’t do anything to them. Had to rely on Xiao Tianzhen to bail your asses out of trouble. So what does that make you?”

Zhang Haike simply smirked calmly in return, not rising to Pangzi’s bait. He swept his gaze swiftly across the room instead, lingering briefly on Zhang Qiling, then refocused on Pangzi in front of him to answer, “It makes me someone who, as a representative of the Zhang family, is appreciative of what he’s done for us. However, I’ll tell you the same thing I told Wu Xie: this and that are two separate matters. I had a little something I had to discuss with him concerning the future of the Zhang family—”

“Shouldn’t such a conversation include someone that’s hmm, maybe the head of your family?” Pangzi spat out. “Doing something like this behind his back… shouldn’t that earn you an exile to the Gobi desert or some bullshit like that? That’s how your crazy-ass family works, right?”

At the mention of Zhang Qiling, Zhang Haike finally turned to face the other, choosing to completely disregard Pangzi’s comments. Letting out a small smile, he began, “Long time no—“ and only registered being slammed against the nearby wall as he was struggling to draw breath from the impact.

“Do not smile,” the Zhang patriarch commanded darkly, leveling a frigid glare at him and ramming an arm against his jugular, choking him. A primal reactive fear flashed through him, and if Zhang Haike hadn’t been trained to withstand such pressure from an early age, he might have wet himself. He immediately neutralized his expression, both to comply with the demand as well as attempt to cover the thundering of his errant heartbeat. “Where is Wu Xie?” Zhang Qiling probed in a dangerously quiet voice.

The abrupt movement had clearly startled everyone on both sides — Wu Erbai, Er Jin, and Xie Yuchen managed to school their expressions somewhat, looking only moderately perturbed; Kan Jian had straight up jumped; Hei Xiazi also grimaced, and even Pangzi looked slightly alarmed. Zhang Haike’s own people were too stunned for a moment to react at all. By the time they finally snapped out of it and moved to intervene, he’d recovered his senses and quelled his rampant heartbeat enough to signal them to stand down.

Suddenly realizing that the threat to his life was actually quite real, he could only raise both hands in surrender and gasp out slowly, “He’s currently in another hotel room, considering my proposition.” Mindful of the other’s previous threat, he kept a very thin smile, “Good to see you too, kid¹.”

Zhang Qiling did not loosen his hold, nor did the murderous aura in his gaze dim in the slightest.

Zhang Haike swallowed painfully, cautiously placing a hand on the other’s arm. “I promise you will get to see him very soon,” he placated. Whether or not you will continue to see him, however, will be up to him, was the part that went unspoken. “He’s simply thinking some things over.”

“What ‘proposition’? You better not be having him taking up another of your fucking messes,” Pangzi warned, finally recovering.

Zhang Haike coughed again before wheezing, “That’s between me and him. What he chooses,” he coughed some more, “chooses to tell you after this will then be between him and you. Not my business after tomorrow.” Then, eyes darting back to Zhang Qiling, he commented with an arched brow, “You’ve certainly grown. As talkative as ever.”

Zhang Qiling clenched and raised his fists, and for a moment, Zhang Haike thought he’d get smashed in the face.

And suddenly, the pressure vanished, leaving him coughing, massaging and gasping for air. Just as he thought he’d escaped the retribution of his pissed off patriarch, he received a sucker punch to the gut. He doubled over, collapsing against the wall behind him, barely managing to avoid collapsing to the ground entirely. Fuck, he thought miserably, but not entirely surprised. Without another word, Zhang Qiling pivoted back to Pangzi’s and Hei Xiazi’s sides, crossing his arms and leaning back against the table in a clear snub.

Zhang Haike stood stunned for a moment, and was only broken free of his stupor when Pangzi snorted, “Serves you damn right, asshole. You think Xiaoge’s gonna wanna reminisce childhood memories with you after you pull this kind of shit stunt?”

It took him a beat to recover then straighten out his clothes and expression, though he still held his stomach rather delicately. “It’s not like I expected him to remember me anyway,” he sighed, though his disappointment still showed. He stared after Zhang Qiling, wanting to say more, but the words seemingly died in his throat. 

It was then that Wu Erbai stepped forward to speak. “Zhang-laoban,” he greeted, drawing everyone’s attention.

Zhang Haike dipped his head in response. “Erye,” he greeted back.

“I hope what you say is true, and that whatever ‘proposition’ you have discussed with my nephew, will have him leaving unharmed, physically and otherwise,” Wu Erbai spoke calmly with a subtle but evident edge. 

Zhang Haike did his best not to react, trying not to think about the cuts and bruises littering Wu Xie’s face as well as the bandages wrapping the man’s torso, and not for the first time cursed his carelessness with the Wang spy.

“I know we’ve all spent generations in this harrowing war, meticulously calculating and planning every inch of each battle, because it was what we needed to prevail,” Wu Erbai started. “But isn’t it finally time to put all of that down?”

Zhang Haike frowned, not quite understanding what the man was getting at. He wondered if Wu Erbai also believed he’d involved Wu Xie in another plan.

Wu Erbai noticed his perplexity and stepped in close next to him to mutter quietly, “I think it’s time we families stopped the bad habit of interfering in the life of individuals, no? Sometimes, people’s futures can only be handled by themselves.” He then shot Zhang Haike a knowing look, gaze flickering discreetly and briefly to Zhang Qiling.

And suddenly it dawned on Zhang Haike what the other meant. So Wu Erbai wasn’t as blind as thought. No, he corrected himself in mild amusement. Of course the other man would have known. After all, they were both in mirroring roles here.

Meanwhile, everyone else appeared entirely lost, not at all following their conversation. At this, Zhang Haike couldn’t resist bursting out laughing. Wu Erbai, you keen-eyed old man, he thought, then said aloud, “Your nephew has yet to give his answer. What are you in a hurry for?”

Wu Erbai just harrumphed. “You think I don’t know my nephew?” Then, glancing again at Zhang Qiling, he added with an arched brow, “You clearly don’t know your patriarch the same way.”

For that, Zhang Haike remained silent, eyes narrowing in displeasure at the accusation, then shuttering in half-resignation.

Finally, he sighed and said, “Tomorrow. I gave him till tomorrow to think on his answer.”

Wu Erbai simply grunted.

~ Present

“...I’ve made my decision.” Wu Xie watched as the other man took a sip of whiskey before setting it down on the table next to him. If Wu Xie looked closely enough, he could observe the slight bags under the other man’s eyes, which would have mirrored his own.

“The suspense is killing me,” Zhang Haike drawled with a dry smile, though Wu Xie knew now how to look past that confident facade.

“Thank you,” he started, to the clear surprise of the other, who cocked his head in confusion. “What you said… it made me realize a lot of things,” he elaborated. Then, averting his gaze, he said, “I realized I was being selfish.”

Zhang Haike’s expression fell eerily blank, and he took another sip quietly.

Wu Xie swallowed drily. This realization had come painfully, and he had become imprisoned in an endless memory reel of all the moments where he’d been so inconsiderate of Xiaoge’s thoughts and feelings. Zhang Haike was disturbingly on point about their dynamic, and he spent a good part of the day in utter self-loathing at this insight.

“I realized I was incredibly blind and naive,” he continued. He used to think that despite Menyouping’s wooden facade, he was someone who could discern some of the micro-expressions that would crack through. Yet he had been utterly blind and deaf to the loudest of expressions Xiaoge had presented him with. For someone like Xiaoge, his actions were tantamount to holding up a brightly illuminated neon sign with loudspeakers blaring on both sides. The retroactive embarrassment and self-deprecation doubled with that realization.

“And that is why I’ve decided…” he reiterated, now facing Zhang Haike confidently, gaze firm in resolution, “Xiaoge’s secrets… I don’t need to know them anymore. Where he came from, where he’s headed, I don’t care about that at all. All I want to do… is to be there for him now, and accompany him as far as I can, as long as I can.”

Here, he let out a rueful smile. “Perhaps that’s still selfish of me. But how can I possibly turn him away, now that I realize he’s been reaching back all this time?” He paused, smile waning. “I don’t know what the future will bring. I don’t know what Xiaoge will do, once I’m gone. I don’t know, in the end, how much pain this will bring him. I don’t know any of that. But I do know this — he needs me now, and I’m tired of the what-ifs, the greater picture, people doing things ‘for my own good’... so I won’t do that to him.”

He smiled again, this time directing a soft look at Zhang Haike. “Didn’t you ask what truly matters? I think my answer would be this: our choice.”

Zhang Haike didn’t respond, but he let out a silent chuckle, dipping his head in resignation.

“As long as Xiaoge makes the choice to stay with me, then I too will make the choice to stand by him. Whatever the future holds, come hell or high water, I will be there until I no longer can. To live free of the burdens of tomorrow… isn’t that what it really means to break free of fate?”

This was the truth he’d arrived at after ruminating for so long. It may not be the right answer, there may not even be a right answer, but it was the only answer he could possibly give.

Zhang Haike's chuckling gradually became audible, and he shook his head in dismay. He then started to clap slowly. “Xiao Sanye should consider a career in screenwriting... “ He closed his eyes and reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “And here I thought there was no way you could have convinced me…”

Wu Xie gazed at him a tad sympathetically. “But didn’t you tell me all this, hoping I would?” 

Zhang Haike did not respond, staring resolutely down at his hands. 

He sighed, continuing, “I know you’re also doing this because you care about Xiaoge, in your own strange way that I don’t quite understand. And for that, you have my gratitude—” He then paused, sardonically adding, “ — Well OK, the beating I could have done without,” to which Zhang Haike snorted. Then resuming with his serious tone, “I’m not going to pretend I’m not selfish. I am. And so I’m going to be selfish and also ask you for a favor.”

An unfathomable expression fell over Zhang Haike's visage as he scrutinized Wu Xie heavily. “You know that the Zhang branch families don’t live that long in comparison, right?”

“I know. Still,” he hesitated, swallowing the hurt that the next words would bring. “Look after him when the time comes?”

The other man studied him for a moment, then sighed. “You really are impossible, aren’t you?”

He tried not to look too smug and smiled lightly. “Or so I’m told.”

Zhang Haike settled for glaring without much heat. “I really don’t see what he sees in you.” 

He blinked innocently. “My charming nature, of course.”

“Clearly,” Zhang Haike mumbled, then lapsed into silence for a long moment. “I suppose I should return you to your friends then, before they actually destroy my hotel." Then muttering aside, "Seriously, what is it with you and your friends' penchant for destroying Zhang family property...²” He then got up and turned to leave.

Wu Xie’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of his friends. Did that mean…?

The other halted, taking in his expression, then rolled his eyes, “Yes, now are you going to come see him, or are you going to stand there gaping like a fish?”

He quickly clamped his jaw shut, slightly miffed, but ultimately unable to suppress his rampant heartbeat and wide grin.

Xiaoge, I’ll see you soon.

Chapter Text

Wu Xie had never felt so nervous in his life. He’d conducted nerve-wracking subterfuge, suffered high-stress life-threatening situations, implemented high-stakes decisions… yet all of those paled in comparison to this moment. Ten years… ten years was a lot of change, especially for him. There were days where Wu Xie couldn’t even recognize himself in the mirror anymore. His stomach started to churn. What if Xiaoge didn’t recognize him? What would Xiaoge think of the him now, ten years later?

They zig-zagged through hallways and took the elevator down to the third floor. Their initial pace was a bit slow, given Wu Xie had to find his pacing so as to not jostle his injuries too much. The elevator ride was painfully long and awkward. Shouldn’t there be some traditional instruments meditative music playing to help calm nerves, he thought a tad resentfully and swore that Zhang Haike and his men could probably hear the embarrassing pounding of his heart.

Fortunately, the other made no mention of it if he did.

When they neared the conference room, he could hear Pangzi’s muffled shouting and idly thought how the hotel’s soundproofing could use improvement, but overwhelmingly felt a rush of relief and building anticipation. They were really there. Xiaoge was right there behind that door. The previous panic came rushing back. And oh god, what would Xiaoge think of him now? He was no longer that Tianzhen Wu Xie of ten years past; he’d committed such atrocities that made him sick in retrospect. He used, manipulated, and lied to people to achieve his goals, something the him of ten years past would have deemed unthinkable. What if Xiaoge was disappointed with what Wu Xie had become? What if he no longer felt the same as he did before he went into the Gate? What if he actually regretted taking Wu Xie’s place in the Gate?

And suddenly, Zhang Haike’s hand was on the door, snapping Wu Xie free of his runaway thoughts, the crescendo of panic halting abruptly in bated breath.

But here, the man hesitated, half turning towards him before saying, “I wasn’t lying when I said I knew something Zhang Qiling didn’t know about himself. It’s something you should know before seeing him though.”

Wu Xie paused, studying the way Zhang Haike watched him intently, and then smiled a little exasperatedly. “I already said so, didn’t I? I don’t need his secrets anymore.”

Something flickered in Zhang Haike’s eyes — a sort of resignation, admiration, and satisfaction, and he stepped out of the way, smiling lightly. “Well go on then. I think if I step through that door a second time, my patriarch will actually skin me alive,” he commented drily.

He raised a questioning brow at the remark, but soon found his attention snapping back at a rather loud expletive coming from inside.

Zhang Haike groaned. “Please just go in. Before they totally wreck my walls and furniture.”

Wu Xie just scoffed. “Nothing you don’t deserve,” he taunted, which earned him a deadened look. Then he remarked casually, “Oh, and… you should also drop the bad habit of testing people at every turn, hm?”

And without waiting to see the other’s reaction, he pushed his way inside.

“—stard, I’ll show him what happens when he tries to dupe Pangye—” was the immediate ruckus that rammed his eardrums when he entered. So it was more a testament to Pangzi’s voicebox than the hotel wall’s construction quality… 

He rolled his eyes and called out, “Pangzi!” 

Instantly, the room fell silent.

The hammering in his chest was beginning to pick up speed again, and he resisted immediately searching out that familiar silhouette, afraid that if he found it, he’d— 

“Laoban!” came an alarmingly high pitched wail that dove him from the side. A man he didn’t recognize immediately tackled him into a bear hug, jostling his injuries and causing him to cry out and hiss in pain. The man who hugged him immediately backed off in horror, muttering apologies and welling up in tears.

“ZHANG. HAI. KE. You mother—” Pangzi started towards the door in seething rage, clearly noticing Wu Xie’s reaction as well as the cuts and bruises on his face, and drawing the right conclusion.

“Stop, Pangzi, just stop. Please don’t shout. I have a concussion so—” he pleaded as the other’s loud voice sent a stabbing sensation through his brain. He placed his hands against the other’s chest, trying to halt the other’s warpath.

“That bastard gave you a concussion too?” came the immediate outburst, to which he visibly winced, touching his temple where another jolt of pain shot through. 

“You fucking idiot,” Xiaohua hissed quietly from behind Pangzi, and the latter appeared properly chastened, muttering a light ‘sorry, Tianzhen’. Xiaohua then stepped in front of him, scanning him and asking, “How are you otherwise?”

Wu Xie just offered a weary smile and said, “I’m fine. Just a bit tired.”

“Laoban, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you more…” the man who he’d never met before continued to sniffle.

He blinked a couple of times, trying to place the stranger, but coming up short. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

But before the other could introduce himself, Er Shu and Jin Shu walked over. “Xiao Xie,” his uncle called out, placing his hands around Wu Xie’s shoulders and cataloging his injuries. “When we go back, you’re going straight to the doctor, you hear? This isn’t the first time you’ve gotten concussed… you need to be more careful.” 

He then moved to lift Wu Xie’s shirt to check his other injuries, and Wu Xie immediately pushed away his hand, sighing exasperatedly. “Er Shu, I’m not a kid anymore. Don’t worry, I know how to take care of myself.”

Er Shu froze in his ministrations, then suddenly dropped his hands and barked out, “If you’re not a kid then what were you doing getting baited by others like a stupid kid then?” He harrumphed, then adjusted his glasses and muttered aside, “He has the guts to tell me he ‘knows how to take care of himself’…” Then, facing Wu Xie again, he berated, “Get married sooner, let someone else go handle your troublesome self, and then I’ll stop worrying.”

And with a huff, he swept out of the room with his men and Jin Shu, who patted a stunned Wu Xie a quick ‘Xiao Sanye, welcome back’ on his way out before trailing after Er Shu.

Suddenly, the room became unnervingly empty, and he gradually became aware of the sensation of being watched. 

And from the corner of his eye, a familiar figure edged into view — all in black, in that iconic hooded jacket, standing quietly to the side…

He slowly turned, heart beginning to palpitate again. He barely registered Pangzi behind him starting to usher the rest of the people out, barely noted the pat by Hei Xiazi welcoming him back, as his vision started to tunnel in on that figure now in front of him.

He took a stuttered step forward, forgetting for a beat or two to even breath. His heart was thundering so loudly, he was sure it echoed embarrassingly around the room. His mind went numb as he drank in the sight of the other man before him, the only semi-lucid thought being, this isn’t a dream.

“Xiaoge,” he breathed out quietly, still unable to properly grasp the fact that this was real. Xiaoge was right there in front of him. It was him — the same exact him that had confessed he was taking on this ten year burden in Wu Xie’s place, the same exact him that Wu Xie had been yearning for every single day for these past ten years, ever since the other had left him alone on that snowy mountain, the same exact him that Wu Xie had sacrificed the world and more to be able to maintain a promise to, and he was finally... A maelstrom of emotions simmered within him, just a hair trigger away from being released, muted only because he still couldn’t quite comprehend that Xiaoge was finally there.

But then Xiaoge let out a small smile and said, “You’ve grown old.”

And he finally broke down.

His knees suddenly grew weak, and he had to lean over, the emotions bursting forth in his chest suddenly becoming too much, too much. He was simultaneously crying and laughing, the rush of joyous laughter maddeningly and uncontrollably overtaken by silent wracking sobs in an endless cycle. His chest was both full on the verge of explosion and aching from a hollowness that swallowed him whole. He could only place a trembling hand over his eyes in a poor attempt to shield this unsightliness from Xiaoge.

But then he felt the gentle touch at his elbow, delicately moving in to support him and slowly pull his hand away from his face. 

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Xiaoge whispered with a soft gaze so warm, so focused on him…

God, how had he ever thought that Xiaoge might have felt otherwise?

Overcome with emotions again, he could only collapse into the other’s embrace, where everything finally felt so right, where he could feel the slight tremors in Xiaoge’s own body flush against his own, where he could take a deep breath and take in the comforting scent that was uniquely Xiaoge, where he could feel the other’s strong arms envelope him and revel in the wash of calm and sense of security that had been ten years missing.

It's not you who's late, Xiaoge. I'm sorry it took me so long.

He wasn’t sure how long they sat there, him leaning against the wall and Wu Xie laying down in his lap, where only the sounds of Wu Xie’s slow breaths, deep in slumber, were audible.

Even though they had spent so many years together and shared so many life or death experiences, this was the first time he was able to observe Wu Xie’s face so closely at length. A couple of times, he felt an urge to brush aside the stray strand of hair caught on an eyelash, but then pulled back, afraid of disturbing the serene image and waking the other from much needed rest.

The exhaustion and years of hardship were evident in Wu Xie’s features. There were angles he didn’t remember and lines that weren’t there before; there were bags under the other’s eyes, a smattering of cuts and bruises, and a healing split lip. None of this detracted from the handsome features though; rather, he found himself eagerly drinking in the new details of the still familiar face that had come with age.

Seeing the injuries, however, did bring about a vicious twist to his gut and a renewed flare of dark anger at the man who had caused this. It was strange; Wu Xie had certainly suffered worse before, yet this was the first time he’d experienced such a vengeful fury. His eyes narrowed at the recollection of yesterday’s events, Zhang Haike’s audacity to use that face had summoned forth such a primal rage, it was as if he had become possessed… He might have found himself choking the man to death if it weren’t for the razor sharp focus of finding Wu Xie overshadowing all else... He clenched his fists, but took care to suppress his racing pulse lest it woke the man in his lap.

Even though Zhang Haike had been his childhood friend, he could remember none of it. The glimpses and fragments of his childhood that he did occasionally get a flash of were never particularly joyful. Zhang family always had the utmost strictness in upbringing, grueling training sessions, and unforgiving expectations. Before, this was simply how things were. The necessity to guard the secret was absolute, and this was what his family’s existence was for. This was what his existence was for and would forever remain his one true calling. But learning of his family’s involvement of Wu Xie… it was a cold hard punch to the gut, and for once, he briefly entertained the idea of seeing just how effective his purported title of patriarch was; what would they do if he simply chose to… stop? It was a laughable impossibility of course; after all, he’d be condemning the world if he did, the world which Wu Xie was still very much a part of. In the end, he could only move forward, though the thought did little to abate the strange thirst for vengeance, something still so foreign to him.

He was still not sure why Zhang Haike sought out Wu Xie. It hadn’t held the least bit of importance earlier either, when all he could focus on the moment the door had opened was Wu Xie and his ever so carefree expressiveness.

He’d hovered on the peripheral of the crowd, knowing that if he showed then, it would rob everyone else of the chance to exchange their greetings. He’d watched as Kan Jian, who Wu Xie hadn’t even met yet, went barreling towards the man in a loud wail, amused at the flash of adorable confusion crossing the other’s visage and instantly concerned at the soft cry and hiss of pain that followed.

He had never felt such a desire to commit unspeakable pain on another individual as he had in that moment, Pangzi’s own reaction a shallow reflection of his own outrage.

But that flare of anger snuffed out in the next moment when Wu Xie smiled.

And suddenly, that was all he could focus on.

He didn’t know how long he’d been staring, paying attention to every twitch of facial muscle as Wu Xie reacted in his interactions with Xie Yuchen, Kan Jian, and finally Er Shu, watching as Wu Xie’s features morphed from happy, to perplexed, then exasperated, and finally shocked. Even if that face had aged, thinning out at the cheeks with the beginnings of crow’s feet forming at the eyes, he recognized all of Wu Xie in those expressions. 

This was what he’d fought so desperately to protect.

When he finally returned to his senses, Pangzi had started herding everyone else out. Xie Yuchen tossed him a knowing glance before exiting, and Pangzi, the last to leave, had just sent him a wink.

And then it was just him and Wu Xie.

Wu Xie stood there, utterly incapable of reacting. For a moment, he wasn’t even sure if the other was still breathing.

In the end, he could only offer a gentle smile and say something as mundane as ‘You’ve grown old’.

Yet those words, or perhaps any words really, were enough to break the other. He watched heartbreakingly as Wu Xie broke down in tears and laughter, unable to hold himself up against the torrent of emotions that had swept forth. His own throat then began to lump up, a mistiness starting to form over his vision. When Wu Xie covered his own face in apparent embarrassment, he moved to tell the other, you don’t need to hide. I’m the one who’s sorry for making you wait.

The next thing he knew, he had an armful of Wu Xie sobbing into the nook of his shoulder, frame trembling. And suddenly, his own emotions were also too much. These ten years… you’ve suffered, haven’t you? The thought twisted its way painfully into his chest, and he could feel the years of anguish, loneliness, and pain pouring out in those tears. A heartache he’d never known fell over him, threatening to overwhelm him. Unable to trust his own voice were he to say anything more, he could only slowly wrap his own arms around the other man, holding on tightly as the silent sobs continued to wrack Wu Xie’s frame.

They stood there for who knows how long, holding onto each other, even long after the tears subsided.

Finally, it was the resurgence of Wu Xie shaking against him that snapped him out of his reverie. Frowning and thinking the other had started crying again, he pulled away in concern, only to find the other was shaking from laughter.

“I’m sorry,” Wu Xie apologized between breaths of laughter. “I just… I’m such a mess…” He then moved to dab Zhang Qiling’s jacket with his sleeves. “Oh my god, I can’t believe… sorry, Xiaoge.”

Zhang Qiling fondly watched the tic forming and disappearing on Wu Xie’s temple as the latter grew increasingly embarrassed. Finally deciding to grant the other a reprieve, he let out a humorous smile and said, “It’s OK. Buy me another one.”

Wu Xie just stared at him for a moment, then scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. “You know, I have to wonder just when you learned to tease people like this.”

“Not people. Just you,” he responded easily, taking small pleasure at the spot of color now dusting Wu Xie’s cheeks.

“And when you became such a smooth talker…” the other man grumbled with a sniff, idly massaging his ribs.

Noticing this and frowning slightly, he gently guided Wu Xie to the nearby wall and commanded, “Sit,” which the latter obeyed after blinking curiously at him.

He walked over to his backpack, rummaging through it to pull out a water bottle. Walking back over, he held it out to Wu Xie. “Replenish liquids,” he stated simply before sliding down onto the ground next to the other.

Wu Xie pouted but complied, accepting the water bottle and unscrewing the cap. “Now you’re making fun of me for crying so much. Yeah, yeah, a fully grown man bawling like a kid…” He took a few large gulps from the bottle. Then, tossing him a suspicious glance, he scowled, inquiring, “You didn’t get at least a little teary-eyed? I shed so many tears much for you… you stingy bastard, you couldn’t even shed one for me?”

He just stared back and blinked, deciding not to respond.

Wu Xie just nodded his head with a sigh. “Well, you wouldn’t be Menyouping otherwise I suppose…”

Hearing the disappointment in the other’s voice, he was suddenly struck by an urge to speak. “I would cry,” he said quietly.

Wu Xie, who had raised the water bottle up for another drink, suddenly paused and looked over at him with a sense of wonder.

He tightened his resolve and admitted a little vulnerably, “I would cry… if you one day disappeared.” The images of Wu Xie dying in front of him, in his arms, still haunted him. The notion that the other might one day not be there brought a sickening lurch to his stomach, even if his visage gave nothing away. Panma’s words still lingered in the back of his mind, and he could once again feel that unsettling anxiety building up. Wang family, Zhang family, the Ultimate… his life was like quicksand, always flowing in one inevitable direction, always swallowing anything that came near him whole, deceptively calm on the surface, but tumultuous and treacherous within.

How long could Wu Xie be near him before becoming inevitably suffocated by his burdens? 

By the time he returned to his senses, he found deep brown eyes staring back at him, the expression unfathomable. Then, Wu Xie slowly lowered his water bottle, closed it, and set it aside. He shifted to face Zhang Qiling, gaze shining with resolve. “Xiaoge, I’ve decided. Your past… it doesn’t matter to me. And what you need to do, where you need to go, that doesn’t matter to me either. I won’t insist on involving myself in everything anymore.” Here, he smiled and placed a hand over Zhang Qiling’s own. “But I’ll always be there when you need me, when you need a home to come back to, OK? And when the day does come that I…” He sighed, smile dimming a little but retaining its vigor. “When the day does come, I’ll probably be so old and senile and then you won’t even want to be around me anymore, yeah?” 

Zhang Qiling wanted to point out that even with Wu Xie old and senile, he would never want to let go. But seeing the other’s confident smile brought him a sense of comfort and settled his anxiety, so he stayed his worries.

Wu Xie then collapsed back against the wall, closing his eyes and leaning his head back. “Just like this… We can be just like this... I’ll become a person with no past or future with you,” he whispered, and not long after fell into a doze.

Just like this… no past or future…. He felt oddly comforted by that thought. He observed Wu Xie’s profile for a long while, watching his head loll to one side and then the other, and finally decided to gently guide the man to lay down in his lap.

Wu Xie tossed and turned a lot in his sleep, something he’d noticed early on in their travels together. At times, he’d frown and mumble something incoherent. Another moment, he’d let out a small whimper. Each time, Zhang Qiling would place a calming hand to the crown of the other’s head, quelling his nightmares just a little, or so he’d hoped. Otherwise, he refrained from touching Wu Xie at all, afraid of waking him.

And now…

A soft click sounded, and he turned his head towards the door. Pangzi cautiously poked his head in, scanning the room until his eyes fell on the pair of them. His mouth formed a little ‘o’, and a look of comprehension dawned on his face. He made a series of gestures and mouthed some words to ask if Wu Xie was OK, if he was just sleeping.

He nodded once.

Pangzi then pantomimed eating some food, to which he shook his head.

Pangzi then made a series of gestures and mouthed several words that he could not follow, the former’s movements growing increasingly complicated and actually starting to generate noise.

At the sensation of light shifting in his lap, he glared at Pangzi, and glanced sharply towards the door.

Deflating a bit, Pangzi then nodded in understanding, held up an OK sign, and exited the room, letting the door close with a quiet click.

When he looked down again, he was nearly startled to find a pair of brown eyes sleepily studying him.

“I’ve never seen you from this angle before,” Wu Xie murmured drowsily. “You look even taller from here.”

He debated pointing out the obvious — that this was probably because the other was lying down on his lap. But before he managed to decide, Wu Xie’s eyes widened in abrupt horror and clarity, and he sat up in alarm. His eyes jumped from Zhang Qiling’s face to his lap to himself and back again. He then glanced around his immediate area, as though looking for something, then pressed a hand to his head, appearing utterly perplexed.

“Xiaoge, you—” Wu Xie started, then blinked, not really knowing how to complete the thought.

He just smiled, and deciding to save the other from further embarrassment, asked, “Awake?”

Wu Xie stared at him some more, as if not recognizing him, then finally said uncertainly, “Yeah… yeah I… when did I fall asleep?”

“A while ago,” he answered, unable to provide a more specific response since truthfully, he hadn’t kept track of the time.

Wu Xie continued to blink slowly with a frown, as if trying very hard to remember something. Then, finally giving up and shaking himself free of the effort, he inquired, “Was that Pangzi just now?”

He nodded in response, silently promising to express his displeasure to Pangzi later.

Wu Xie nodded absent-mindedly, seemingly thinking over what to say. A few times, he drew breath to say something, but then stopped, deflating again. Finally, he asked a little hesitantly, clearly trying for casual, “What are you… uh… what are you planning to do after this?”  

He blinked, observing but not fully understanding the other’s nervousness at the question. “Planning?” He paused, thinking it over and peripherally noticing Wu Xie keenly edging closer. “I think Pangzi ordered food.”

Wu Xie twitched, then palmed his face with a groan, muttering something about heart problems in old age that he didn’t quite understand. Then, a little exasperatedly, he said, “I meant after this ordeal.” He gestured to their surroundings. “After… all of this.”

Oh. He blinked again, then said, “I’d like for us to go home.”

For a second, Wu Xie seemed too stunned to respond. But then, the brightest smile appeared across his features. “Yeah. Me too.”

He felt his breath catching.

It was still that smile.

Yes… they might not know what the future would bring, and he may never be able to share all of his secrets with Wu Xie, but as long as the other was willing…

To embrace life as one with no past or future wasn’t so unbearable with a certain someone by his side.

~ Fin