Chapter Text
When they get back, Bai Haotian is going to kill Shouling.
Pangzi is currently swinging from a steel beam with his gigantic laser blaster firing shots into the stacks of cargo they were supposed to be raiding. Kan Jian is somewhere above their heads; whenever Pangzi misses someone—which is purely by chance, as his method of firing in a steady stream with zero aim is particularly effective in destroying many, many things—they are quickly executed. Bai Haotian thinks that she can see Zhang Qiling, sometimes, but there are so many people running around and shouting and dying that it’s hard to tell which indistinct shadowy shape belongs to their fighter.
A stray blast hits the electric panel above Bai Haotian’s head and she yelps, ducking and covering her hair so the sparks don’t catch. She’s supposed to be hacking the door security so they can all leave, but it’s hard to concentrate when she’s trying not to get killed at the same time.
Muttering under her breath, she taps a few quick commands on the touchscreen of her datapad, which currently looks a little like a mad science experiment; there are wires sticking out of the sides, haphazardly twisted into the circuits of the ship they’re on. Manual hacking is technically the quickest and most effective way to get into security, but Bai Haotian prefers to do her work safely onboard her own ship. She knows she could have gotten into their ship’s command frequency. She had almost done it, too, but Shouling had shaken his head and made her come along anyway.
She spares another second to curse her captain again, biting her lip as she struggles with the lines of code keeping her from bypassing the security. It’s clear no one has done maintenance on the ship’s computer in a while; the data is all twisted and backed-up with years of commands and takebacks and second-guesses. Bai Haotian doesn’t understand how any self-respecting engineer can go without doing regular checks of their ship mechanics, but to each their own, she supposes.
It also could be a case of frequent crew turnover, which is rather likely, considering this is a mercenary ship. They don’t tend to live very long.
She finally manages to get her metaphorical fingers into a hole and pries apart the system at the seams. She’s just about to input the code to force open every single door on the ship when she suddenly senses someone behind her, and dodges to the side.
Fortunately, she gets out of the way of the meaty hand coming to grab her by the hair. Unfortunately, that lands her in the grip of another mercenary, whose palm closes tightly around her upper arm.
Bai Haotian shrieks. She kicks out, getting the first mercenary in a particularly unfortunate area. He curses, doubling over. She elbows upward as hard as she can, catching the one holding her arm in the chin, which makes him relax his grip enough for her to wrench herself free, diving forward to hit the final key to input her code.
It’s too late. Somehow, in the scuffle, part of the wires have been disconnected, leaving her datapad hanging. If there’s any bright side to be had, it’s that there is now a considerable amount of damage done to the ship’s circuits, which won’t be a quick fix. She decides to make it worse by ripping her datapad free from the other wires, wincing slightly, and is about to dash to freedom, but the mercenary she hit in the jaw blocks her path. She’s satisfied to note that he seems to have bitten through his lip, and there’s blood going down his face.
Bai Haotian feints to one side, but Chinny is clearly prepared for some sort of trick, and he trips her, sweeping her legs out from underneath her with a quick and practiced move. She lands on her back, the air going out of her with a loud thump. She gasps, too caught up by the fact that she can’t breathe, and those precious seconds mean that the mercenaries have her on her feet with a blaster to her head faster than she can get her lungs working again.
She still struggles, but they’re much, much larger than she is, and also they have a gun to her head. Chinny wraps a thickly muscled arm around her torso, squeezing her chest just enough that her lungs spasm again. She coughs, and he drags her out into the middle of the cargo hold, where the chaos is the worst.
“I have your girl!” he shouts. Bai Haotian hates him.
It takes a few moments, but everyone stops shooting at each other. Bai Haotian can see Pangzi atop a stack of crates. He looks disappointed to have had to stop firing, swinging his blaster around by the handle, which he’s only bold enough to do because Shouling isn’t there to yell at him.
“That’s better,” Chinny says, but he doesn’t relax his hold on Bai Haotian or the gun. “Now. Why don’t you all set your weapons down and we can talk.”
“Talk?” Pangzi says, flipping his blaster up onto his shoulder. “Why don’t you give us back our engineer and fuck off?”
Chinny lets out a very put-upon sounding sigh. Pangzi is just that irritating. “Where’s your captain?”
“Up your ass,” Pangzi retorts.
Chinny presses the blaster a little harder into Bai Haotian’s temple. She winces, which has the desired effect of making Pangzi go still. “I’m not overly patient, you know. It would be better for everyone if he decided to come out.”
“What makes you think he’s even on this ship?” Pangzi asks. He’s tapping one finger against his blaster in a seemingly random pattern, which gives Bai Haotian a little bit of comfort. That means Zhang Qiling or Shouling is nearby.
“We’re only one of the teams sent to find you,” Chinny says, and that really does make Pangzi pause. “You’re Wang Pangzi, and that menace with a sword is Zhang Qiling. I’m sure Kan Jian is somewhere around too, and this is clearly Bai Haotian.” He squeezes when he says her name, and Bai Haotian thinks some very choice thoughts about where she would like him to go. “Only one missing is Wu Xie. So where is he?”
“I’m impressed,” says a voice from the shadows. “But I have to wonder who it is that’s looking so hard for me?”
Bai Haotian feels herself grin, a little feral. “You’re in for it now,” she says, just as her Shouling steps out into the light.
Pangzi scoffs from his perch. “Tianzhen, you dramatic ass.”
Shouling merely grins.
To his credit, Chinny does not look properly cowed. “You’re Wu Xie?”
“Yes,” Shouling says.
“Captain of the Wushanju? Heir to the Wu family?”
Shouling squints. “‘Heir’ might be a strong word.”
“Alright,” Chinny says. He pauses, glancing around. “Where’s Zhang Qiling? And the sharpshooter?”
“Why?” Shouling asks, his smile hinting at the edge of dangerous. “Worried?”
“We’re just supposed to deliver a message,” Chinny says, “I’d prefer we not get killed for that.”
“A message?” Pangzi asks. He leaps down and comes to stand by Shouling. “Whoever your employer is has strange ways of getting our attention.”
“I’m sure we’ll be all the more willing to listen when our engineer doesn’t have a gun to her head.” Shouling’s voice is mild, but it’s clearly not a suggestion.
Chinny thinks about this for a second, then lowers the blaster, but keeps his arm tight around Bai Haotian. “Call off your monster.”
Pangzi looks extremely offended on Zhang Qiling’s behalf. Shouling throws a glance to a shadow right behind Chinny, who jumps when Zhang Qiling suddenly manifests from it, giving Bai Haotian a small nod as he crosses a little too close to the mercenary, just to be annoying. They have a method, the Iron Triangle, and most of it centers around being as unnerving as possible.
“What’s the message?” Pangzi asks. Chinny stiffens, looking toward Shouling, who doesn’t say anything. “We don’t have all day.”
“Coordinates,” Chinny says. It sounds like he’s gritting his teeth. “Quadrant 787, 0.9B, 10L. 74°53’17”N, 25°68’04”W. You have one week.”
“That’s Haruthul, isn’t it?” Shouling asks.
Pangzi frowns. “What’s someone on Haruthul want with us?”
It’s a fair question. Bai Haotian has never been to Haruthul before, and she doesn’t particularly want to go. The desert planet is known for harboring criminals and people who work for the highest bidder. It’s not really made for habitation, which is the exact reason that people choose to stay there; it’s out of the way and unpleasant, which means that hardly anyone who cares about galactic law will make their way onto the planet.
Bai Haotian wouldn’t say that their crew doesn’t care about galactic law, but it’s definitely not very high on their list of priorities.
Shouling’s got a dangerous look in his eyes, the one he gets when he wants to do something extremely exciting and supremely stupid. “Is that it? One week to get to Haruthul?” He laughs exaggeratedly, hooking an arm around Zhang Qiling’s shoulders and leaning most of his weight against him. “Well, why didn’t you say so? Obviously, we’ll drop everything and head straight over there. Xiao-ge, you like the heat, right?”
Zhang Qiling doesn’t say anything, merely gives Shouling a side-eyed look that to anyone else might look two degrees away from homicide, but Bai Haotian has seen this look directed at Shouling more times than she can count, and has become an expert at unearthing the fondness beneath it.
“Seriously, though,” Shouling says, straightening and giving Chinny an unimpressed look. “That’s all the message is? We don’t do things for free, you know. Nor do you.”
“We weren’t told what it is you’re wanted for,” Chinny says. “Just that we were to find you and relay it at all costs.”
“And your boss sent out multiple teams for this?”
Chinny seems to be growing tired of repeating the same information. “Yes.”
“I’m touched,” Shouling says, his lips going into a pout. “Really, I didn’t think we were this loved.” He pats Xiao-ge on the shoulder. “Unfortunately, I don’t think we’re interested in an anonymous contact with no promise of reward. Tell your boss that we decline.”
“I can’t do that,” Chinny says. “I did say ‘at all costs.’” In the space of a breath, he brings his blaster up so that it’s aimed at Shouling’s forehead. “You can either come on your own, or we’ll drag you there.”
“I thought you were just the messengers,” Shouling says. Despite being at gunpoint, he doesn’t look worried in the slightest.
Chinny shrugs. “There’s a doubled offer for whichever team manages to bring you in. And your engineer didn’t manage to hack our door system, so there’s no way for you to get off our ship. You’re coming with us, whether you like it or not.”
“Hmm,” Shouling says. He raises both hands in the air. “Not.”
“What—?” Chinny doesn’t get a chance to finish his question, because at that moment, the outer cargo door is blasted completely off of its hinges, flying across the bay and slamming into three of the mercenaries at the edge of the group.
Bai Haotian takes advantage of the chaos to stomp on Chinny’s foot as hard as she can. His grasp slackens just enough for her to duck out of his hold and slam her fist into his jaw again. She feels something shift under her knuckles, and Chinny drops to the floor.
Outside, the lightly rusted hull of the Wushanju has pulled up to the blasted hinges. The door opens, revealing the containment bay of their ship, the air seal keeping them from being sucked out into space. Bai Haotian is particularly proud of that piece; she modified the artificial atmosphere filter to extend into other ships for thirty-second spurts, giving them enough time to get in and out safely during raids.
The rest of the crew knows this time limit, which is why they all waste no time sprinting for the door. Pangzi whoops delightedly, using his blaster as a battering ram as he charges through ranks of startled mercenaries. Zhang Qiling has his sword drawn, though he’s watching Shouling more than he’s paying attention to anyone around him.
Bai Haotian runs after the three men, only startling a little when someone drops down from the ceiling, rolling up and at her side with ease.
“You good?” Kan Jian asks. He’s got his modded sniper bow in hand, pausing to knock a mercenary in the face with it as they run.
Bai Haotian ducks under the arm of an enemy without stopping for breath. “He thinks this is fun, doesn’t he?”
Kan Jian looks to where Zhang Qiling has just used Pangzi as a launching pad while Shouling cheers. He shakes his head.
They make it to the door first, leaping the short gap between the cargo ship and Wushanju. Bai Haotian feels herself relax in the familiar yellow lighting of her ship. She and Kan Jian turn back to the door, holding their hands out for Shouling and Pangzi as they dive aboard. Zhang Qiling takes a quick detour to slash through the closest mercenaries.
“Just a tip!” Shouling calls, “Make sure you have all the crewmembers accounted for if you’re trying to get the jump on them!” He waves brightly. “Xiao-ge!”
Zhang Qiling wraps his legs around a man’s neck, twisting his body weight to land him on the floor. He tucks himself into a neat roll and is up once more, striding into the Wushanju as though he were out for a stroll. He’s not even breathing hard. Bai Haotian hates him just a little bit.
She pulls down the door control, and the Wushanju’s well-oiled mechanics slide together, blocking off the chaos of the other ship. She catches a glimpse of Chinny as it shuts. He looks simultaneously outraged and awed.
The Wushanju pulls away from the other ship, slightly sputtering. There’s a brief hitch before the engines kick in, and then they’re off, flying into the black without a second glance.
Pangzi scowls, tossing his blaster to the side. “What’s that moron doing to my ship?” He opens the main door without waiting for the decontamination process to even begin and stomps off in the direction of the cockpit. The Wushanju makes an unhappy noise and Bai Haotian pats its wall.
“Can you tell him to stop doing that?” she demands. “Someday, you’re going to come back aboard with deadly bacteria and Pangzi’s just going to track it all over the ship because he never waits on decontamination.”
Shouling just laughs and ruffles her hair. “We’re not carrying any deadly bacteria.”
“Not this time!” She bats his hand away. “And another thing! Shouling! What the fuck!” She slaps him on the arm. “I hated that! I told you to leave me here. I could have hacked the doors from the ship.”
“You didn’t hate it,” her Shouling says. “It was fun. Right, Xiao-ge?”
Zhang Qiling, who is very polite and will wait through decontamination, raises his eyebrow a miniscule amount, which for him is a resounding yes.
Kan Jian is sitting on one of the bay benches, busy checking his bow components. “Xiao Bai has a point.”
“Aww, Kan Jian,” Shouling pouts. “I know you liked it. You got so many people!”
Kan Jian grins brightly. Even if he agrees with Bai Haotian, she doesn’t think he’s ever been truly upset with Shouling. “Seventeen, if I counted correctly.”
“Impressive!” Shouling stretches, the high-pressurized air messing up his hair as the decontamination process finishes up. “I’m going to go set coordinates with Pangzi. Meet in the mess in ten.”
“We have coordinates?” Kan Jian asks.
“Of course,” Shouling nods. “Quadrant 787, 0.9B, 10L. 74°53’17”N, 25°68’04”W.”
Bai Haotian feels her mouth drop open. “We’re not going to Haruthul.”
Shouling merely winks at her. “Mess in ten!” he calls over his shoulder as he heads out the door.
Bai Haotian turns to Kan Jian for support, but he only shrugs sheepishly and follows after Shouling.
She doesn’t even bother looking at Zhang Qiling.
***
Bai Haotian walks into the mess hall twelve minutes later out of sheer spite, and she’s still earlier than most everyone else.
They call it the mess hall, but it’s really just a kitchen, and it isn’t even that messy. Wang Meng is meticulous about keeping their eating space clean, mostly because it’s the only area he has complete control over. Right now, though, Shouling and Pangzi are turning the counter into a war zone of peanut shells, while Wang Meng frets over them, antennae twitching nervously.
“Why did you make me fly the ship?” he’s saying, eyeing the peanut shells with distaste. “I hate flying the ship. I’m not good at it.”
“He’s right,” Pangzi says, “He’s not good at it. I had to recalibrate my entire panel after he got his hands on it, Tianzhen.”
“You did fine, Wang Meng,” Shouling reassures him. “I needed the others onboard with me, so you were our only choice.”
“I shouldn’t be your only choice!” Wang Meng wails.
Shouling spreads his hands. Peanut dust flakes off of them and onto the table. Wang Meng winces. “I can’t exactly help that. We don’t exactly have an overabundance of crew members at the moment.”
“We never have an overabundance of crew members,” Pangzi says. He tosses a peanut up in the air and catches it in his mouth.
“Well, why would I need more crew members when I have the best the universe has to offer?”
“Flatterer,” Pangzi snorts. He misses the next peanut and it goes bouncing off into a corner. Wang Meng suppresses an outraged squeak.
Shouling shakes his head, then catches sight of Bai Haotian. “Xiao Bai!” He opens an arm, making a space for her in the semi-circular booth that serves as their dining table. She slides in, settling herself against Shouling’s side. Pangzi pushes a small pile of peanuts in front of her. They’re a very clingy crew, with the exception of Zhang Qiling, but even he indulges Shouling and Pangzi’s terminal need to constantly be touching.
Wang Meng’s antennae droop as he seems to realize that getting Pangzi to contain the peanuts is a lost cause, and he sits on Bai Haotian’s other side, muttering something about a raise. Shouling ignores him.
Kan Jian comes in a moment later, sliding in next to Pangzi, and Zhang Qiling appears a moment after that. He doesn’t join them in the booth, but stands at the opening, arms crossed.
“So,” Pangzi says. “Haruthul?”
“Haruthul?” Wang Meng’s voice climbs an octave. “You didn’t say we were going to Haruthul!”
“Yes, I did,” Shouling says. “You were there when I set the coordinates.”
“Not everyone has their head filled with a map of the universe, Tianzhen.”
“Fair point,” Shouling acquiesces.
“We can handle Haruthul,” Shouling tells them. “Whoever is there is very clearly desperate to get their hands on us.”
“Yes,” Bai Haotian says, “Which means it’s almost definitely a trap.”
“But if it’s not a trap,” Shouling says, “Then we may be passing up a fantastic opportunity. The crew of the Wushanju has a reputation. If we’re being sought out, that means it’s not an easy gig.”
“Y’know,” Pangzi grumbles, “I think that sometimes I would like an easy gig.”
“Or it’s a trap,” Bai Haotian persists.
Shouling sighs. “I don’t have that many enemies. We don’t have that many enemies.”
“Doesn’t have to be an enemy,” Pangzi says. “Could be Er-shu trying to get you to come home for dinner again.”
“Er-shu’s not going to hide out on Haruthul,” Shouling says. “He hates sand.”
“I also hate sand,” Wang Meng offers. “It gets everywhere.”
“You can stay on the ship again,” Shouling tells him.
Wang Meng shudders. “No.”
“We shouldn’t needlessly walk into danger.” Zhang Qiling’s voice is soft, but there’s an edge to it that makes both Pangzi and Shouling turn their heads.
“We won’t,” Shouling says. “And besides, if there is danger, you’ll be there.”
“You can’t use your blind faith in Xiao-ge to justify your self-destructive tendencies, Tianzhen,” Pangzi says, giving him a soft thump on the arm.
“Of course I can,” Shouling says. “When have I ever been wrong?” He looks around the table at all of them. “Does anyone have any real objections to our course?”
There are a few moments of silence. Bai Haotian sighs inwardly. As much as this may be a bad idea, they would all follow Shouling into hell and back out the other side. None of them are going to abandon him if this is something that he wants to do, no matter how much they wish he’d play it safe. Shouling is a lot of things, and all of them have a tendency to inspire loyalty in just about anyone. It’s worked on them for years, and for good reason.
But the reverse is also true. Shouling trusts his crew. If any of them have any real objections, Bai Haotian knows that Shouling will reroute their course and they’ll find another job to take.
Pangzi finishes off the peanuts. “Ai, we’ve been through worse. Xiao-ge’s probably desperate for some sun.” Zhang Qiling doesn’t confirm or deny this, but the way his shoulders soften a fraction lends some credibility to Pangzi’s words.
“Okay,” Shouling says, “Xiao Bai, can you get the earwigs ready? I don’t want to go in there entirely unprepared.”
Bai Haotian nods. “They just need a little cleaning.”
Kan Jian slides out of the booth, stretching. “I’ll make sure our paperwork is in order. Don’t want trouble if we can avoid it.
Shouling’s eyes shine as he looks at them. “Best crew!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Pangzi scoffs. He nudges Shouling out of the booth. “Move, I need to go fly the damn ship. Autopilot’s held out for this long, but there’s no telling when it’ll decide to crap out.” He gives Bai Haotian an eyebrow raise. “Weren’t you going to fix that?”
“I’ll fix it when you stop leaving the cruise control on during light travel,” Bai Haotian says, crossing her arms.
“Never going to happen!” Pangzi laughs. He accidentally brushes the pile of peanut shells, sending them scattering.
Wang Meng’s forehead hits the tabletop with a thump.
***
Haruthul is as hot and gritty as Bai Haotian expected.
She grimaces as they set up in a back alley; it’s going to be a nightmare to get the grains out of the electronic components later, but it’s unavoidable. There’s sand everywhere.
The coordinates led them to a square, clay-baked building near the edge of Zhujin, the largest trade city on Haruthul. There’s a constant stream of foot traffic there, which means that a group of strangers wandering around the city isn’t worth taking notice. All of the buildings are made of dried mud with small windows to keep the interior cool; shopkeepers have their wares out in front of their doors. It’s a custom on Haruthul to do all business out in the open, partially because having too many people in one small space will overheat it quickly, and partially so that there are plenty of witnesses if someone tries to cheat someone else.
Their destination, however, is closed and quiet. It’s not a business, or at least not a regular one. Wang Meng has been picking up clear signs of activity, though, so there are people inside.
Kan Jian is at the opening of the alley, keeping watching. Bai Haotian is attempting to make a coherent tech support station, but it’s not easy when you have no electricity and sand keeps blowing into your machines. Shouling is alternating between watching her and receiving information from Wang Meng, who has his eyes closed, antennae almost vibrating as he does reconnaissance. His species has a supremely good sense of smell, which has been exceedingly helpful in many of their adventures. They left Pangzi back on the ship, which he had complained loudly about, but eventually gave in, as he didn’t want anyone else flying the Wushanju in the inevitable frantic getaway they are all semi-expecting.
The only one who isn’t currently doing anything is Zhang Qiling. Instead, he’s standing toward the back of the alley, directly in a sunbeam. His eyes are closed, face tilted upward. If Bai Haotian looks closely, she can see the shimmer where his skin is slowly beginning to shine a deep, inky black.
As far as they know, Zhang Qiling is the last of his species. Kylin had been thought to have been extinct for almost a hundred years, until Shouling and Pangzi had found Zhang Qiling on a tiny jungle planet on the edge of a dying galaxy, where he’d been stuck for almost a decade, half-feral and sick. Bai Haotian isn’t sure about the full story, because Shouling never talks about their past adventures, and Zhang Qiling doesn’t remember them. Pangzi sometimes offers up details when especially drunk, but they almost always devolve into singing drinking songs he’s picked up at random outposts over the years.
Kylin are ectothermic, and while Zhang Qiling is able to withstand colder temperatures, there’s a distinct happiness to the loose curl of his hands as he stands in the sun and heat of Haruthul. His Kylin patterning is coming to life along his larger veins, black snaking its way up his neck to curl at his jawline.
Their crew is a hodgepodge of species. They’re all essentially humanoid, but that’s where the similarities end. Wang Meng’s race is named in a language Bai Haotian can’t pronounce; she’s tried, and Wang Meng looks as though he’s eaten something very slimy every time she does. His people are characterized mainly by their pack behavior and dislike of space travel. Wang Meng is one of the few who actually enjoys being on a ship, but he’s definitely happiest when all of them are together and on solid ground. Kan Jian’s species has unbelievably good eyesight and the strongest arm muscles Bai Haotian has ever seen, an evolutionary mechanism derived from tree dwelling. The surface of his planet is said to be entirely made up of poisonous tar, so Kan Jian had never set foot on solid ground until he left his homeworld. It’s part of the reason he never wears sleeves; he can disintegrate fabric if he flexes too hard, which Pangzi, the only one of them who can sew and therefore their chosen seamstress, hates.
Bai Haotian’s own people are a semi-aquatic species. Her planet is over ninety percent water, so she spent most of her childhood off-land, learning how to grow food without soil, which has come in handy onboard the ship. Shouling crash landed on World Eleven during a rare mission without Pangzi and Zhang Qiling, almost drowning inside his spacecraft before Bai Haotian saved him. In exchange, he helped her root out a disease that was being spread through their food source by a foreign merchant who wanted to sell the rich freshwater that made up their planet to resort companies. When Shouling had finally left, Bai Haotian had followed.
Shouling is full-blooded human, which is rare. Even Pangzi, who claims to be human, is at least a quarter Titan, a species of humanoid giants known for their widespread population across the universe. There are less than a thousand full humans left in the universe, as far as most people can figure. After so many years away from their origin planet, finding a full-blooded human is rare. They’re adaptable and resilient, but only nine blood-related families managed to stay together. Shouling is a member of one of these families, known as the Nine Bloodlines. It’s one of the reasons they’re constantly outrunning Shouling’s uncle, who is getting rather desperate that Shouling find a human woman from one of the other Bloodlines to marry, which Shouling is absolutely not inclined to do. He has his own family, he says.
It’s a strange little family. Wang Meng speaks heavily accented Galactic, and his native tongue is so different from Bai Haotian’s that they have a hard time talking to each other. Kan Jian’s native language is surprisingly similar to Zhang Qiling’s, so they often have hushed conversations in lilting, flowing phrases that only Shouling seems able to eavesdrop on. Pangzi’s origin tongue is loud and boisterous, best spoken in song, which Bai Haotian loves. Her people don’t have a native spoken language; since their societies live underwater, they communicate primarily with gestures and body language, using Galactic, the universal tongue, to talk to any foreigners. Shouling, of course, has managed to get a proficient grasp of every language that his crew speaks.
There isn’t a lot of commonality, but they all get by, especially through the tapping language that Shouling, Pangzi, and Zhang Qiling developed when they first met. It uses the same linguistic heights as Zhang Qiling and Kan Jian, the hand and body speech that characterizes Bai Haotian’s language, the rhythmic phrasing of Pangzi’s method of speaking, and very similar sounds to Wang Meng’s native tongue. Shouling says it also has some similarities to an archaic form of human writing, which is where he originally got the idea. It’s saved their lives more than once, and is an excellent way to communicate when they don’t want anyone to eavesdrop on their conversations.
Wang Meng makes a humming noise and opens his eyes. “Human. Full-blooded too, I think?”
“What? Shit,” Shouling says, his forehead furrowing. “Who the hell could be in there?”
“They’re the only one,” Wang Meng says hurriedly, trying to be reassuring.
“Shit,” Shouling says again. He rubs a hand over his face, which Bai Haotian understands. If someone from the Nine Bloodlines is inside the building, this job may have become much more complicated.
Zhang Qiling comes over from his sunbeam to stand at Shouling’s side. He doesn’t say anything, but Shouling looks at him as though they’re having a detailed conversation. He nods.
“Alright,” he says, “Kan Jian, you’re with me. Wang Meng, go back to the ship and tell Pangzi that if we’re not back in an hour, come in with guns blazing. Xiao-ge, you and Xiao Bai stay out here. Are the earwigs ready?”
Bai Haotian holds out her palm, two little earpieces resting in the flat of her hand. “Don’t lose them.”
“Would never,” Shouling says. He fits the earpiece into the hollow of his ear. Bai Haotian gives the other one to Kan Jian, who does the same. “Alright. We’ll be back.” He gives Zhang Qiling’s shoulder a squeeze, nods to Kan Jian, and the two of them leave the alley. Wang Meng waits a few seconds, then leaves as well, heading in the opposite direction.
Bai Haotian kneels in the sand, fiddling with her equipment, clunky pair of headphones held to the side of her head. She tilts one of the speakers toward Zhang Qiling, who is balancing lightly on his toes as he crouches nearby. His eyes on her are slightly unnerving; it’s not that she is distrustful of the Kylin, but she’s rarely found herself alone with him. She tries to ignore the anxiety, twirling the dials on the transmitter to pick up the microphones in the earwigs.
She hears Shouling and Kan Jian walking for a few more seconds, and then they stop. One of them knocks on a wooden door, a few solid raps. There are a few beats, and then the door opens. No one speaks, until Shouling says, “Shouling Wu. I’m expected.”
Whoever answered the door must let them in, because more footsteps are heard through the transmitter. Bai Haotian tries to map the layout of the building in her head, but she can’t quite do it. The sounds aren’t echoing, so the building must be mostly one large room, which would make sense considering the architectural design of every other building in the area. They don’t go very far before they stop again.
“Wu Xie,” a smooth voice says, their Galactic slightly blunt, but with a deep-sounding accent. It sounds nothing like Shouling’s. “What a rare pleasure.”
“I don’t believe we’ve met.” Shouling’s voice is pleasant, but he does not sound nice.
“No,” the voice says. “I am Mao Xincheng.”
Not one of the Nine Bloodlines then. Bai Haotian feels herself relax a fraction. If Wang Meng is right about this Mao Xincheng being human, there’s less of a chance that he’s a definite enemy.
“Mao-ye,” Shouling says. “I heard you were looking for me.”
“Indeed,” Mao Xincheng replies. “Which team ended up finding you? I did promise them extra payment.”
“I wasn’t eager to get their names,” Shouling says.
Bai Haotian rolls her eyes. Shouling likes playing games, especially verbally, but sometimes she wishes he would stop talking and get to the point.
“Hmm.” Mao Xincheng hums. “You have a very distinct reputation, Shouling Wu. It wasn’t easy to track you down. But I’m glad I did. I think you’ll be very interested in this opportunity.”
“What?” Shouling is trying his best not to sound as though he cares, but Bai Haotian can hear the notes of curiosity in his voice.
“This.” There’s a rush of air and then the soft thump of something falling to the dirt. Mao Xincheng sighs. “I would appreciate it if you would be more careful with my artifacts.”
“I’d appreciate it if you would warn me before you throw things,” Shouling replies. Oh, Bai Haotian thinks, he’s playing it this way. With the amount of activity Wang Meng had picked up inside, she shouldn’t be surprised that Shouling’s adopting arrogance to deal with this particular job, which is why he’d brought Kan Jian instead of going alone. Now he can delegate tasks to his first officer, just as Mao Xincheng is probably doing with his men. She hears Kan Jian bend down next to him and pick up whatever it was that Mao Xincheng had tossed to them, handing it to Shouling.
“Thank you, Kan Jian.” There’s a moment of silence as Shouling examines the object. “It’s a star map.”
“Yes,” Mao Xincheng says. “From the monks of Teleran. As you can see, the stitching is—.”
“It’s a fake,” Shouling says. “This star formation doesn’t exist. And the mapping design is too messy. Teleran monks would never have crossed galactic lines like this. All of their known maps are perfect.” He takes a few more seconds. “I’m sorry, Mao-ye, but whoever gave you this map lied to you.”
“Did they?” Surprisingly, Mao Xincheng doesn’t sound upset. “Look again, Shouling Wu.”
Shouling exhales, but he must obey, because in the next second, his breath hitches almost imperceptibly. His face must change as well, because Mao Xincheng sounds very smug when he speaks.
“The pattern is rather ingenious, isn’t it?” Mao Xincheng asks.
“It’s a hidden galaxy,” Shouling murmurs.
“What?” Kan Jian says.
“Look.” There’s a pause as Shouling shows Kan Jian what he means. “Teleran monks only made star maps on silk, and they were famous for their stitchwork. They never made mistakes, so to have galaxy lines crossing like this should be impossible. Every stitch represents a light-year in distance, and if you fold the map over like this... there. See?”
“Whoa,” Kan Jian breathes. “What is it?”
“Yincangui,” Mao Xincheng says. “You know the legend, Shouling Wu.”
“It was supposed to be swallowed by a black hole, years ago,” Shouling says. “No one’s ever been there.” His voice softens, just slightly. “That’s why he never found it.”
“Your uncle.” The surety in Mao Xincheng’s voice is unsettling. Bai Haotian stiffens a little, hand clenching around the earphones. “Everyone knows about Wu Sanxing’s failed search for Yincangui.”
“They don’t know it failed.” Shouling’s voice is cold.
“Exactly,” Mao Xincheng says, “They don’t. But you do, don’t you?”
There’s a moment, only a few breaths, before Shouling answers. “I couldn’t tell you. I haven’t seen Sanshu in years. He’s probably dead, by now.”
“You don’t really believe that,” Mao Xincheng says. “If you did, you wouldn’t still be in this room. We both know why Yincangui is important. Important enough that your uncle dedicated the whole of his life to it.”
“That’s a myth,” Shouling says.
“You deal in myths,” Mao Xincheng retorts. “We both do.” His voice begins to pitch in a slightly manic way. “It’s there, Wu Xie. I have proof.”
“You have proof,” Shouling says, bluntly. “Of Yincangui?”
“Two years ago,” Mao Xincheng begins, “I found a woman on a distant moon outpost. She was quite delirious, shaking with fear and muttering to herself. No one knew who she was or where she had come from. They said she just appeared one day, as if the sky had spat her out. And she was muttering one word to herself, over and over again. Yincangui.”
“Where lost things return,” Shouling says.
“I took her with me,” Mao Xincheng says. “Unfortunately, she didn’t live very long afterward. But before she died, I was able to discover that she was part of a deep space mission that went wrong. The ship was pulled into a sun, but instead of perishing, the crew woke up on a strange planet. They thought they had died, at first, because there were people there who hadn’t been seen in years. Family members. People who had disappeared, who had been lost. They had found Yincangui.”
“Why did she leave?”
“She hadn’t lost anyone. There was no one on Yincangui that she would have stayed for. But the return trip drove her insane. I wasn’t ever able to determine how she escaped, only that she did.”
“So you want me to find out for you,” Shouling guesses. “Take my crew to Yincangui. Find out if it exists.”
“You are smart, Shouling Wu,” Mao Xincheng says. “Yes. I will give you all of my notes, and the map to Yincangui. All you have to do is return, and when you do, you will tell me how you did it. That’s all.”
“And if it is just a myth?”
“It’s not,” Mao Xincheng says, his voice leaving no room for contradiction.
“What if I refuse?” Shouling asks. “There are very few crews that would be willing to take on a journey as futile as this one.”
“I will pay you handsomely, of course,” Mao Xincheng says. “One million credits. For you and each of your crew members.”
Kan Jian sucks in a breath right when Bai Haotian does. It’s a lot of money, more than practically any of them have ever seen. Shouling’s family is rich, but since he cut himself off from them, they’ve barely been getting by. Their normal jobs pay enough to keep them afloat, but there have been some expensive repairs to the ship that Bai Haotian has been putting off.
“In fact,” Mao Xincheng says, “As a gesture of goodwill, I’ll put forward one million right now.” There’s a moment, and then Shouling’s bank watch gives a series of beeps. “Consider it a bonus.”
Shouling is quiet for a long minute. “What if I say that’s not enough?”
Mao Xincheng sighs. “Our time is too valuable to waste, so I’d appreciate it if you would stop trying. I’m not the only one who wants something from Yincangui.”
Shouling goes silent again. Then: “Why us?”
“You have quite the crew, Shouling Wu,” Mao Xincheng says. “Rumor has it that there’s even a Kylin under your belt.” Next to her, Zhang Qiling goes rock-still. “They were thought to be extinct. Very impressive.”
Shouling doesn’t say anything, but Bai Haotian can almost see him tense with fury.
Mao Xincheng chuckles. “Don’t worry, I’m not interested in whatever beasts you’ve acquired over the years. You can do it with or without them. I’m hiring you, Wu Xie. Whoever else you decide to bring along is your business.”
Shouling’s next exhale is slightly shaky. “I’ll have to discuss it with them first.”
“Reasonable,” Mao Xincheng says. There’s the sound of movement as he stands up. “My notes. If you decide not to accept my offer, you may return them here.”
Shouling laughs a little. “You trust me that much?”
“Not you, Wu Xie,” Mao Xincheng says. “I’m not a fool. We’re the same type of man, you and I. I don’t trust you. I trust your greed. You will take this job because there are too many things that you want from it.”
“I’m excellent at proving people wrong,” Shouling says, but even Bai Haotian can tell that this bravado is weak at best.
“Not this time,” Mao Xincheng says. “This time, I’m afraid that your nature has the best over even you.”
It’s a clear dismissal; even Bai Haotian can hear that. She sits back on her heels, mind buzzing. Shouling’s voice murmurs goodbye through the headphones, but she’s not listening, really. Yincangui. It sounds like a fairytale, but Bai Haotian has seen enough fairytales become reality that she is inclined to believe this one.
Zhang Qiling rises to his full height, turning to the alleyway opening. A moment later, Shouling strides down it, Kan Jian hot on his heels. Shouling’s eyebrows are drawn tightly together, and he’s clenching his fingers around a leather-bound journal, which can only be Mao Xincheng’s notes.
“Wu Xie?” Zhang Qiling murmurs.
Shouling’s eyes find him. He remains tense for a moment longer, then relaxes a minuscule amount. He tosses Zhang Qiling a folded piece of fabric, which the Kylin catches easily. He unfolds it, studying it in the sun.
“What do you think?” Shouling asks him, softly.
“It’s real,” Zhang Qiling admits.
Shouling sighs for real, putting his hands up to cover his face. “That’s what I was afraid of.” He tips his head back, sun reflecting in the hollow of his neck. “What do we do?”
Zhang Qiling keeps silent. Kan Jian is looking between the two, clearly nervous. Bai Haotian steels herself.
“We go,” she says.
All three of them turn to look at her. She lifts her chin, folding her arms across her chest. “It’s what we do.”
“It’s going to be dangerous,” Shouling says.
“It’s always dangerous,” Bai Haotian says. “That doesn’t mean we run away.”
“Xiao Bai.” There it is. The intensity that her Shouling is known for. He looks her directly in the eye, and she meets his gaze. “We don’t know what will happen. We don’t even know if this is real.”
“You say it’s real,” Bai Haotian points out. “Zhang Qiling says it’s real.” She swallows her fear. “We should go.”
“I agree,” Kan Jian says. He comes over to stand next to Bai Haotian, pressing their shoulders together. “This may be our only chance to find Yincangui. You’ve been looking for it for years, Shouling. We can’t pass this chance up.”
Shouling’s jaw stiffens. “Yincangui… it’s my search. You all don’t have to get involved. I’ll understand, if…” He presses his lips together. “I can’t promise we’ll come back.”
“Wu Xie,” Zhang Qiling says, “We aren’t going to leave you.”
Their Shouling looks at them, his eyes tightening in pleasure at the corners, as if he can’t quite believe they’re there. He steps forward, putting his arms around Bai Haotian and Kan Jian simultaneously, drawing them close.
“Best crew,” he murmurs softly, pressing a kiss to Bai Haotian’s head.
Bai Haotian lets herself stay there for two breaths, then three. Then she squirms out of Shouling’s grasp, grinning up at him. “I know.”
He gives her a small laugh, ruffling her hair up. She ducks away and goes to pick up her equipment, scooping it into her side bag without much ceremony. It’s all going to need a cleaning when they get back on the ship, so there’s not much point in organizing it. It looks like they’re in for a long trip. She’ll have plenty of time.
“We shouldn’t keep Pangzi waiting,” Shouling says, glancing at his watch. “I know we told him an hour, but he’ll have started getting antsy already.”
They leave the alley, ducking through the throngs of people at the market. Bai Haotian keeps a tight grip on her bag, which is good, because more than one person makes an attempt to pull it off her shoulder, before they catch a glimpse of Zhang Qiling and think better of it.
A few streets from the street, the market begins to thin out. This close to the shipyard, most of the businesses are advertised as travel companies or mechanics. Bai Haotian relaxes her grip a fraction, which turns out to be a mistake.
Someone grabs the strap, so quietly that she doesn’t even notice until she’s taken another step and met resistance. She squeaks and stumbles backward, tripping over her own feet as she tries to turn to see who has ahold of her. The culprit quickly takes their hand away, stepping back.
“Sorry!” they say. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Bai Haotian feels Shouling, Kan Jian, and Zhang Qiling stop. She moves back another few feet, pressing her back toward them. She hunches her shoulders and clutches her bag. She hates being snuck up on.
“Who are you?” Shouling asks. He puts a hand on Bai Haotian’s shoulder, as if to reassure her that he’s there. She can feel Zhang Qiling at her other shoulder and manages to stop her teeth from chattering.
The person who grabbed her blinks, but he doesn’t look frightened of them. He’s humanoid, though Bai Haotian can’t tell what species just by looking at him. He’s a couple inches shorter than Shouling, with an angular face made more stark by the large-framed glasses perched on his nose. He has dark hair is tied back at the base of his neck, and he’s wearing layers, waterproof jacket over a long-sleeved t-shirt, a large backpack slung around his shoulders, which indicates that he’s in their line of work. His eyes flick back and forth between Bai Haotian and Shouling.
“Sorry,” he says again. “I’m Liu Sang. You’re looking for Yincangui.”
Shouling exchanges a look with Zhang Qiling, and in the next moment, the Kylin has Liu Sang pressed up against the side of a building with an arm across his chest. Liu Sang stiffens, hands hovering and fingers splayed to show he’s unarmed. Still, he doesn’t look scared.
“What do you want?” Shouling asks, unmoving.
Liu Sang slowly takes his eyes away from Zhang Qiling to make contact with Shouling. “I want you to take me with you.”
“Why would we do that?” Shouling asks. He steps in front of Bai Haotian and Kan Jian, his shoulders firm. “I already have a crew. I don’t know what kind of help you would be, but so far I’m disinclined to think that you have our best interests at heart.”
Liu Sang raises his eyebrows. “You’re on Haruthul. No one has your best interests at heart. But I’m useful.” He throws his head toward Bai Haotian’s bag. “Sonar tracking. I don’t know if your ship’s up-to-date, but if you’re going to find a hidden planet, then you’re going to need equipment that can show what you can’t see.”
“You’re a sonar technician?” Shouling asks.
“More or less,” Liu Sang says.
Shouling nods slowly. “Xiao-ge.”
Zhang Qiling releases Liu Sang slowly, stepping back, but remaining a little bit too close for any normal person’s comfort. Liu Sang looks him up and down, a brief flicker of his irises.
“Is that a yes?”
“No,” Shouling says. “You know what our job is. Which means you’re either sent by our employer, or you were eavesdropping. Whichever one it is, I’m not letting you on my ship.” He turns away from Liu Sang. “Find a different ride.”
“I’m not your enemy!” Liu Sang exclaims. “I need to get off this planet. I need to find it, too.”
“Yincangui is a myth.”
“It’s not,” Liu Sang insists. He’s starting to look slightly desperate.
“Sorry,” Shouling says, not looking back at him, “If we come across any hidden planets, I’m sure you’ll hear about it.”
“Please,” Liu Sang says. The cadence of his voice rises a little, and Bai Haotian feels something twinge in her ribs. “Take me with you.”
Shouling stops, mid-step. His face works in a strange way, the muscles in his jaw clenching. Slowly, he turns back to Liu Sang.
“You’re sure you’re not working for anyone?”
Liu Sang nods. “I’m alone.”
Shouling glances at the sky, at Zhang Qiling, and back to Liu Sang. He shrugs. “Fine.”
Kan Jian and Bai Haotian exchange a look. Even Zhang Qiling looks a little surprised. For some reason, Liu Sang does not.
“Thank you,” he says.
“Watch your step,” Shouling says mildly, but Bai Haotian can hear the bared teeth behind it. “Or I will personally throw you out of an airlock.”