Archive of Our Own ^beta

In retrospect, Liu Sang should have realised it was a trap. Something about the job he was being offered just hadn’t felt right. They were too eager, willing to offer him whatever he wanted and a ridiculous amount of money just to do some basic mapping. He’d gone partly out of curiosity, and partly because the alternative was sitting at home screening texts from Wu Xie, who kept coming up with ridiculous excuses for why he should visit. The latest was that he wanted Liu Sang to test the sound on the new TV Wu Xie has just bought. Despite what Pangzi might say, Liu Sang is not an idiot. He knows Wu Xie is just trying to lure him in so he can get him to go on another adventure with him and, as Liu Sang has experienced firsthand, adventures with Wu Xie rarely go well.

So he’d agreed to meet with Xu Yongyu, a name he wasn’t familiar with but whose background had checked out when Liu Sang had done some investigating. A low level tomb robber with not much to his name, but apparently a wealthy patron, given the scope of the job and the payment on offer.

Liu Sang had made sure he’d done everything right. He’d picked a neutral, public place for them to meet and had kept his ears open for any signs of trouble. What he hadn’t prepared for was someone dosing his drink and fucking kidnapping him.

He hadn’t realised anything was amiss until it was too late. The job itself seemed legitimate, Xu Yongyu was polite but not over friendly, and when Liu Sang had started to feel a little dizzy he’d put it down to the beer being slightly stronger than what he was used to. It was only when he’d stood up to get some fresh air and his knees had buckled that he’d realised something was wrong. He’d managed to stay awake long enough to feel arms roughly grab hold of him and drag him outside and after that everything had faded away.

And now he’s here. Of course he has no idea where ‘here’ is. The room he’d woken up in is dark, damp and eerily quiet. Even after straining his ears to hear anything that might identify where he’s being held he still has no idea.

Stupid. He was so stupid. No one is going to want to work with him now that he’s been foolish enough to let himself get kidnapped. Not even Wu Xie, and it’s well known in the industry that he’ll give anyone a chance.

He sits up and tries to ignore the way his head starts swimming, leaning back against the nearby wall while he tries to get his bearings. The wall is cold, and he can feel it bleeding through his clothing and into his skin. He shuffles forward so that he’s sitting upright away from the wall, but the floor isn’t any warmer and he wraps his arms around himself in an effort to stay warm.

There are no windows in the room where he’s being held so it takes a while for his eyes to adjust to the dark. When they finally do there isn’t much to see. Just four walls and a door at the far end.

He climbs to his feet and sways for a moment when the dizziness hits him. Whatever they drugged him with clearly isn’t fully out of his system yet.

When he’s sure he isn’t going to collapse he makes his way slowly over to the door. It’s the only weak spot that he can see, and the only way in or out. He explores it with his hands, feeling for anything that might help him get out of here. The door is made of metal, as cold to the touch as the wall and floor is. There’s no handle and when he gives it a push to test it there isn’t even a hint of give beneath his hands. It’s very solid and definitely locked from the other side.

He checks his pockets. Naturally his phone, wallet and keys have been taken along with his headphones. He’s alone, with no tools or other means of escaping. The best he can do is wait for whoever took him to make their demands. The fact that he’s still alive means that they clearly want something from him.

He really wishes he’d told someone where he was going or who he was meeting.

At some point the residual drugs in his system pull him back under and he sleeps for a while. He has no idea how long he’s been here for, or how long he sleeps for. His watch has been taken along with the rest of his belongings so all he knows is that when he wakes up he’s cold and stiff, his throat parched and his stomach starting to ache with hunger.

What’s woken him, he realises after a moment, is the sound of a key in the lock to the door of his room. Several keys, now that he’s listening more carefully. Each one undoing a separate lock with a clank that’s loud to his ears. Wherever this is it’s clearly been designed to be secure.

He sits up, closing his eyes even though he can barely see anything, focusing instead on listening. He hears the door open and he hears three distinct sets of footsteps on the floor, coming closer and closer until they stop just in front of him.

“Good, you’re awake.”

He recognises Xu Yongyu’s voice, of course. Sounding distinctly less friendly than it had done in the bar where they’re met to discuss a job. The two men with him remain silent. Protection, Liu Sang figures, as though he’s capable of fighting anyone while he’s cold, hungry, and still slightly woozy from the drugs they’d given him.

He folds his arms across his chest, refusing to let them see that he’s cold and slightly afraid.

“What do you want?” he snaps, mentally cursing when his voice comes out weak and raspy. Not sounding anywhere near as defensive as he’d wanted.

“Yes, I’m sorry about all this,” Xu Yongyu replies, not sounding sorry in the slightest. “Your skills are quite remarkable but, sadly, not what we need in this particular instance. Maybe some time in the future, if this all goes the way we want, we can put all this behind us and work together for real.”

Liu Sang stares for a moment, wondering if he’s joking. When he realises he isn’t he starts to laugh. “I don’t tend to make a habit of working with people who drug and kidnap me.”

Xu Yongyu shrugs. “You might change your mind. I’ve seen men do plenty of things they swore not to out of desperation.”

Liu Sang can’t imagine ever being desperate enough to want to work with his kidnapper, and the constant talking is making him lose what little patience he has remaining. “Are you going to tell me what it is you do want if you didn’t bring me here for my hearing.”

His eyes are adjusting to the dark now and he can make out Xu Yongyu a little more clearly. He’s studying his fingernails, sending the clear message that he’s bored and doesn’t consider Liu Sang worth his time.

“I’m afraid what we want is nothing that’s in your power to give. You’re here not because of who you are but who you know.”

Liu Sang frowns. Who he knows? He doesn’t know anyone. Or, rather, he doesn’t know anyone where abducting him would make any sense. He has people he works with, but no friends or family. He’s kept it that way on purpose.

He squints when a phone is shoved in his face, his phone, the screen light bright and glaring in this dark room.

“Call Wu Xie and tell him what’s happened,” Xu Yongyu says. “If you try and tell him anything except that you’ve been taken we will make things very unpleasant for you.”

Liu Sang blinks. Then he can’t help it. He laughs. “You kidnapped me as leverage over Wu Xie?”

“Don’t play games,” Xu Yongyu snaps. “We’ve been following you for months. We know you’re close with him. I’m quite sure he’ll do whatever we say to make sure you’re returned to him unharmed.”

That just makes Liu Sang laugh even harder. “We work together occasionally. We’re not friends. I’m an asset, and certainly not one he’d be willing to risk his life or the lives of others for.”

The phone gets shoved more firmly into his chest. “Make the call.”

To further illustrate that this isn’t a request Liu Sang hears the distinctive sound of two guns being cocked, and he doesn’t need his sight to know where they’re pointed.

Refusing to make the call certainly isn’t worth getting shot over, not when he already knows what Wu Xie is going to say. Wu Xie is a kind man, but he’s also practical. Whatever it is that Xu Yongyu wants it must be something important, and Wu Xie isn’t in the habit of giving up important things without a fight.

He pulls up Wu Xie’s contact and sees from the display on the phone that it’s currently past 1am. That means he’s been here for around seven hours. It also means there’s a chance Wu Xie won’t answer the phone if he’s asleep. Or he might still be awake. He tends to keep strange hours, especially when he’s preparing for an expedition. Liu Sang can picture it now, him poring over books on his desk and only going to bed when either Pangzi or Zhang Qiling force him to.

He presses the call button, knowing that the outcome for him depends very much on what happens in the next few minutes.

“‘Lo?” Just as he’d suspected Wu Xie’s voice is raspy and thick with sleep, clearly having just been woken up.

“Wu Xie.” He doesn’t frame it as a question.

“Liu Sang? What time is it? Where are you? Are you okay?”

Wu Xie’s voice clears immediately, sounding full of alarm and concern. Before Liu Sang can say another word the phone is snatched from his hand and he’s shoved roughly backwards.

“Wu Xie. As you have heard we have a friend of yours,” Xu Yongyu sneers down the phone. “He’s unharmed at the moment, but whether he stays that way or not depends on you. My employer wants to make a trade: your friend for the notebook you recently acquired.”

Liu Sang blinks in the darkness. That’s what this is about? He should have guessed, really. The entire antiques world had been talking when Wu Xie acquired the infamous notebook of Wang Tanxian. Decades of maps and secrets, that could make whoever owns it a wealthy man indeed. Of course Wu Xie hadn’t cared about the wealth, but the antiques and the history in the long forgotten tombs that the notebook laid out, those he was very interested in.

He can’t help but snort when he hears Xu Yongyu describe him as one of Wu Xie’s friends, though. Wu Xie has plenty of friends, including several who would die for him if needed, but what he has more of is contacts. People who have useful skills, or access to equipment or information that might be useful. That’s where Liu Sang falls. Wu Xie saved his life more than once, and Liu Sang would do almost anything for him to repay him for that, but they’re not friends.

It doesn’t take much effort to listen to Wu Xie’s voice on the other end of the phone. He’s clearly awake now, and the sleepiness has been replaced with a cold rage.

“If you touch him you won’t live long enough to regret it.”

Of course Wu Xie would say that. His asset has been kidnapped from under his nose, sending a clear message that the Wu family can’t protect its property. He might even attempt a rescue, to make some attempt to save face, but Liu Sang won’t allow it. No one is going to be harmed because he was careless enough to allow himself to be kidnapped.

“I’m fine,” he yells. “I can get myself out of this.”

He only hears one of the other men move a fraction of a second before something hits him hard in the stomach, sending him sprawling back to the floor as pain explodes through his abdomen and the wind is knocked out of him. He doesn’t know if it was a fist, a foot, or the butt of a gun but the pain is bad enough that he curls in on himself and coughs as he struggles to get his breath back.

“I’ll text you the place to meet. I’m not an unreasonable man. I’ll give you three hours to bring the notebook,” Xu Yongyu says to Wu Xie, paying no attention to Liu Sang on the ground. “After that we’ll start returning him to you piece by piece.”

There’s a pregnant pause on the other end of the line. Then Wu Xie speaks again, this time there’s less rage in his voice and more of another emotion that Liu Sang can’t put a name to.

“I need more time than that,” Wu Xie says. “The notebook isn’t here, and it will take me longer than three hours to get it.”

Xu Yongyu laughs. “Despite what you might think, I'm not a fool. We’ve been watching you for some time and I know you have it. Your three hours starts now.”

He disconnects the call and types out a quick text, presumably sending Wu Xie the location of the exchange. Then the room is plunged into darkness again.

“Let’s go.”

He’s vaguely aware of the footsteps receding and the door locking behind them as they leave but he can barely move. He wraps his arms around his knees in an attempt to stay warm while he waits for the pain to fade.

“We need to figure out where they’re holding him and get there as soon as possible,” Wu Xie snaps at no one in particular.

He should have known something like this would happen. He knew someone would come for the notebook, even if he didn’t know who, and he’d taken precautions to protect the people closest to him. Liu Sang, though. Liu Sang has always kept himself at a distance and insisted he didn’t need help or protection. It hadn’t even occurred to Wu Xie that someone might see him as a bargaining chip.

And the worst thing is he hadn’t been lying. The notebook is currently with his Sanshu, who had taken it who knew where. His uncle had insisted the fewer people who knew its location the better. Wu Xie is quite certain it would take more than three hours to get it back even if he called his uncle right now.

He looks around the table at Pangzi, Xiaoge, Wang Meng and Kan Jian. All dressed in their sleep clothes after Wu Xie had woken them with the news. His hands are clenched by his sides and he’s trying not to show just how furious and worried he is. If anything happens to Liu Sang because of him…

“What do we know?” Pangzi asks, and Wu Xie is almost reassured that he sounds as angry as Wu Xie feels that something happened to Liu Sang on their watch. “Does anyone know anything about any jobs he’s taken recently, people he’s met with, that kind of thing? He can’t have disappeared without a trace. You can’t sneeze in our business without at least ten people knowing about it.”

“I’ll ask around,” Wang Meng says, already pulling his phone out and disappearing into a side room to make his calls.

“Okay, what else do we know?” Pangzi asks. “Could you hear anything on the call? Something that might tell us where he is?”

He’s been racking his brain since the call ended, trying to remember even the smallest detail that might tell them where Liu Sang is being held. He’d barely been awake at the start of the call and when he realised what was happening he’d been too angry to properly listen.

“It was quiet,” he finally says as he goes over the details of the call in his mind one more time and tries to recall anything that might help. “Really quiet. Either they’re holding him somewhere that’s been soundproofed or they’re out of the city.”

Either way that doesn’t help them at all.

“Did he call you on his phone?” Pangzi asks. “Perhaps we can track it.”

If Liu Sang was like the rest of them, and Wu Xie was fairly confident he was, he’d have taken measures to prevent people from tracking him using his phone. Still, they didn’t have anything else to go on at this point so it didn’t hurt to try.

He rises from his seat, ready to make the call, when Xiaoge lays a hand on his shoulder. It’s not a firm grip, and when he makes eye contact with him he can see warmth and a desire to comfort and reassure reflected there.

“We’ll find him,” he says half to himself and half to Xiaoge.

“And we’ll make them pay for taking him,” Pangzi adds darkly.

Xiaoge nods.

Liu Sang has formed a plan.

It’s not the best plan, but it’s all he can come up with in the current circumstances, and it certainly beats sitting around waiting to die. He got himself into this mess, and he’s going to do whatever he can to get himself out of it.

He shivers and tries not to think about how cold he is.

At least his stomach feels a little better now. He can move, at least, but he’s fairly sure he’s going to have some impressive bruises if (when, not if) he gets out of here.

The pain might be a little better but he’s becoming increasingly aware that it’s been hours since he last ate or drank anything that wasn’t laced with drugs. His stomach aches with more than just the pain of being hit and his throat is dry.

He needs to move now, before he gets too weak to do anything at all.

The fact that he’s hungry and thirsty might actually work to his advantage, though. Xu Yongyu clearly has no plans on feeding him and he must know that it’s been a long time since Liu Sang ate or drank anything. It’ll make his performance more believable.

His entire plan hinges on the theory that he’s being watched. It’s not a theory he can prove, there’s no sign of any cameras that he can see, but only a rank amateur would leave a hostage unsupervised no matter how secure the room is.

He climbs to his feet and makes a show of swaying dramatically, trying to ignore the fact that he does actually feel a little lightheaded. Then he slowly starts to pace the length of the room in an attempt to keep warm. He holds one arm around his stomach, which is still causing him some discomfort, and counts how many steps it takes for him to get from one wall to the other. It’s mostly just something to keep his mind occupied, but it also gives him a vague idea of the best place for him to stand when he puts his plan into action.

After his third crossing he allows himself to shuffle to a stop at around the halfway point and makes himself sway again before carrying on. When he reaches the far wall he leans there for a moment, his head bowed as he feigns dizziness and exhaustion.

This is it. Either this is going to help him get out of here or he’s going to end up causing himself more pain for nothing.

He turns and slowly walks back towards the far wall and, when he’s a few feet away from the door, he lets his knees buckle and he crumples to the floor. The impact hurts, no doubt adding some more bruises to the collection, but he doesn’t react to the pain and just lies there motionless. Trying not to shiver is something of an issue too, especially given how cold the floor is, but he knows this is his only chance and that more than anything keeps him motionless.

He’s relying on the fact that Xu Yongyu doesn’t actually want him dead, not at this point anyway. He’s of more value alive, at least until Xu Yongyu is absolutely sure that Wu Xie isn’t willing to trade for Liu Sang’s life.

The minutes pass, and Liu Sang continues to lie completely still on the cold floor. No doubt whoever has been left in charge of watching him is trying to decide whether he’s faking or not, and after that they’ll probably need to report it before coming down to check on him.

He’s never been known for his patience, but it’s funny how it somehow becomes easy when your life is at stake.

He wishes he had a better sense of time. It feels like he’s been lying here for hours, when in reality he’s fairly sure it can’t be much longer than fifteen minutes.

The silence is almost eerie. Even his headphones give the gentle hum of white noise while blocking everything else out. This is like being in a vacuum, and the only sound Liu Sang can hear is his own heart beating loudly in his ears.

Finally, when he’s just starting to think that he can’t bear the cold any longer, he hears it. The familiar sound of keys in the various locks and the door opening.

“For your sake you’d better not be faking,” an unfamiliar voice snaps as two sets of feet step into the room. More than one isn’t ideal but it’s less than the three who had come in last time. He can make this work.

He continues to lie there, unmoving as the footsteps get closer. Timing is everything here. He needs to catch them by surprise and he can hear from the cautious way that they’re walking that they’re still on guard.

A foot nudges his shoulder and he remains boneless, allowing his body to shift with the impact.

“Is he breathing?” another unfamiliar voice asks.

“Can’t tell. Watch him. I’ll check.”

He’s roughly pulled onto his back and he goes with it, lying perfectly still as rough hands start checking him for a pulse.

It’s time.

Sometimes, when he’s working, even his own heartbeat can sound loud and interfere with what he’s trying to actually listen to. So his master taught him how to slow it in order to reduce the noise interference. It’s almost like entering a deep meditative state, and he can’t do it for long periods but this should be enough.

He allows his mind to empty, letting himself drift away from his current situation and from any other thoughts or feelings he might have. The cold floor no longer matters, the armed men standing over him don’t matter. All he can hear is his own heart gradually slowing.

“He’s breathing,” the man who’s examining him says and his voice is so loud that it takes everything in Liu Sang not to flinch and keep his focus on his heart. “His pulse is slow though. He might have fainted from hunger, or maybe he’s having a reaction to whatever we dosed him with.”

The other voice is close now too, clearly its owner has crouched down to look at him as well.

“Maybe we should—”

Liu Sang bolts, scrambling to his feet and towards the door, taking every advantage of the element of surprise. He hears a startled yell from one of the men and ignores it.

He makes it through the door now and he keeps going, up a set of stairs and into a larger room. He keeps going, charging through another door and desperately looking for anything that looks like it might lead outside.

He seems to be in some sort of warehouse, and the area he’s in now stretches for miles but he can’t stop. If he stops for even a second they’ll catch him, so he keeps running.

A gunshot ricochets off a metal container near his shoulder so he switches direction, diving to the side between two racks of shelves. He needs to lose the men who are following him. If he can lose them he might actually stand a chance of getting out of here.

He keeps changing direction, hoping to throw them off his trail but every turn he makes he can hear their footsteps not far behind him.

He scans the surrounding area as he runs. There has to be a door around here somewhere, but all he can see are rows and rows of storage crates towering above him. Just how big is this place?

He makes another turn and doesn’t see the wet patch on the floor until it’s too late. His feet go out from under him and he crashes to the ground hard. It only takes him a few seconds to scramble back to his feet but a few seconds was all they needed. Before he can break into another sprint a body slams into him, sending him crashing into one of the racks. His head hits something hard and the pain is blinding, robbing him of his senses for a few moments.

When he comes back to himself he can feel warm blood running down the side of his face, and hears the air wheezing down his windpipe before he registers that one of the guards has his throat in a tight grip.

“Didn’t I tell you that you’d regret it if you were faking?” a voice snarls, hot spittle flecking over Liu Sang’s face as he struggles to breathe.

He pulls feebly at the hand wrapped around his throat but he knows it’s no use. His vision is already starting to fade as he loses consciousness and he has no idea if he’s ever going to wake up again.

It’s a pathetic way to die, he thinks, before everything goes dark.

Wu Xie stares at the photo on his phone until his eyes start to burn and every inch of it is ingrained into his brain. Every bruise, every cut, every drop of blood stark on Liu Sang’s pale skin as he lies bound and unconscious in a dark and nondescript room.

He snarls a curse and tosses his phone onto the table, the words of the accompanying text message taunting him as he knows they were meant to.

Your pet sonar doesn’t seem to be enjoying our hospitality. The clock is ticking.

“Do we have any leads?” he yells at nobody in particular. “Anything at all? If Liu Sang dies because we were too slow...”

He kicks a nearby chair, almost relishing the resulting pain in his foot. It’s a welcome distraction. If there was something he could do that would help, but Wang Meng had come back with nothing and Pangzi was still speaking to his contacts. Xiao Hua said he’d ask around but so far no one had come back with anything, which meant all Wu Xie could do was wait. Waiting had been hard enough when he’d just known Liu Sang had been taken, but now that he knew Liu Sang was hurt it was worse. He was going to make whoever had done this suffer.

If they could just find him, or even find a trace of where he’d been today, Wu Xie could start forming a plan. Not knowing who or what they’re up against is the biggest problem. It’s impossible to plan if you don’t know what you’re dealing with.

He starts pacing, racking his brains for anything he might have missed in the phone call or in the photo, anything that might tell him where Liu Sang is being held.

He turns and almost collides with Xiaoge, who had apparently snuck in while Wu Xie was deep in thought. For one hopeful moment he thinks there might be news, but the look on Xiaoge’s face tells him otherwise.

“We’re running out of time,” Wu Xie sighs, rubbing a hand over his face as he suddenly feels exhausted.

Xiaoge places a hand on his arm, tilting his head until their eyes meet.

“We'll find him,” he says gently, echoing Wu Xie’s words from earlier back to him.

He’d wanted to believe it then, and he wants to believe it now, but with every passing minute he grows less and less certain.

“But what if—”

“We will find him.”

He closes his eyes. He has to believe it, because if he doesn’t that means he’s given up on Liu Sang, and he refuses to give up on him.

“Okay,” he replies with the smallest nod. “We’ll find him.”

He takes a deep breath and allows the feeling of Xiaoge’s hand on his arm to ground him. He knows that panicking or despairing isn’t going to help Liu Sang. He needs to focus.

“Do you—”

Heavy footsteps pound on the floor, the unmistakable sound of someone running. A second later Pangzi bursts through the door with a manic smile on his face as he pants.

“I have a lead.”

Liu Sang wakes with a soft groan, the pain rousing him from unconsciousness into some semblance of wakefulness. If he’s honest, he’s surprised he’s woken up at all. He was sure that after his escape attempt Xu Yongyu or his mysterious employer were going to decide that holding him captive wasn’t worth the effort and just kill him.

He lies still and takes stock of his situation. Aside from the pain (head, throat, stomach and legs) he can feel the blood stiff and dry on his face. He forces himself to open his eyes and the pain isn’t as bad as he’d expected, mostly because he’s back in the room where he was being held and there’s no light to hurt him.

“You so much as twitch,” a voice snarls from above him and Liu Sang recognises it as belonging to one of the men he’d escaped from, “and I’ll break one of your legs.”

He closes his eyes again. That escape attempt had been his one chance. They’re not going to allow themselves to relax around him again and he can feel that his arms have now been tied behind his back and his ankles have been bound together.

This is it then. The amount of time he has left to live can be measured probably in minutes at this point. Wu Xie isn’t going to give up the notebook after how hard he worked to obtain it.

His eyes sting with unshed tears. His life has mostly been a shitty one, but it’s been his and he’s fought for every moment of it. Now he’s going to die, with no-one to miss him: the tomb-raiding world will lament his death and the loss of his skills briefly, and then move on.

He closes his eyes and lets the tears fall. There’s no one to see them in the dark anyway.

The bar they pull up outside is small and nondescript, tucked away in the corner of a side street that you wouldn’t think to go down unless you knew what you were looking for. It’s the perfect place to broker a deal away from prying eyes and listening ears. This has to be the place.

“Wait here,” Wu Xie says to the occupants of the crowded van. Everyone had insisted on coming along, eager to do whatever they could do to help. “We don’t want to spook anyone.”

“You’re not going alone,” Pangzi says in a voice that brokers no room for argument. “At the very least take Xiaoge with you.”

Wu Xie glances back at Xiaoge who has already opened the side door and is making his way outside.

“Fine. Keep an ear out. If we need help I’m sure you’ll hear it.”

He climbs out and joins Xiaoge and the two of them head inside. Wu Xie ahead, with Xiaoge at the rear.

The bar is dimly lit and almost empty. It’s late so that’s hardly a surprise. The bartender glances up at them and if he recognises Wu Xie or Xiaoge he doesn’t show it.

“We’re closing soon,” he says gruffly, “so if you want a drink you’ll need to make it fast.”

Wu Xie takes a seat at the bar and pulls his phone out of his pocket. Xiaoge remains standing behind him.

“I’m actually looking for someone,” Wu Xie says, pulling up a recent photo of Liu Sang. “Was he in here tonight?”

The bartender glances at the phone for a minute and then shrugs. “I don’t know. We get a lot of people in here.”

It’s a familiar game. One that Wu Xie has played many times before. He opens his wallet and slides some money across the bar. “Why don’t you take a closer look.”

The bartender doesn’t even pretend to look at the phone again, just slips the money into his pocket and resumes the cleaning work he was doing. “Yes, he was here. Boy’s a bit of a lightweight. He only had one drink and his friends had to carry him out of here.”

Wu Xie has to swallow back the urge to slam his fist on the bar. He’s drunk with Liu Sang plenty of times before and he’s far from a lightweight. This must have been where he was taken from, after they’d apparently drugged him.

“Did you see where they went? Do you have security cameras?”

“No, and yes. But they’re not for public viewing. This isn’t a cinema.”

Wu Xie empties his wallet of the not inconsiderable amount of cash he is carrying with him just in case he needed it for something like this.

“That’s a shame,” he sighs wistfully as he sets the money down on the bar. “It’s been a while since I saw anything good.”

It only takes about ten minutes for him to find the footage of Liu Sang being carried out of the bar and bundled into a waiting van, and fortune must be on his side because he gets a good look at the plates as the van drives away.

“Leave the rest to me,” Pangzi replies when Wu Xie and Xiaoge climb back into the van and relay the information to him. “I know someone who can access the traffic cameras. Finding out where they went should be easy.”

Hold on, Liu Sang, Wu Xie prays silently as Pangzi makes the call to his contact. Just a little bit longer

Liu Sang flinches when the door to where he’s being held slams open with a crash. He raises his head far enough to see Xu Yongyu storming in.

“Unfortunately for you it doesn’t look like your friend is coming.”

Liu Sang lowers his head and closes his eyes. Of course Wu Xie isn’t coming. He knew he wouldn’t. Not after everything he went to in order to obtain that notebook in the first place. He doesn’t know why it still hurts though.

“You have five minutes,” Xu Yongyu says, “so if you’re a praying man you’d better start making your peace with this world.”

Liu Sang isn’t a praying man but he hopes he can enter his next life with a clean conscience. Everything he’s done he’s done to survive. Apparently this time, though, it wasn’t enough.

He should curse the day he ever met Wu Xie, but he can’t. Wu Xie isn’t a bad man, Liu Sang knows this, and for a while at least Wu Xie gave him a sense of purpose and a sense of belonging. He’s thankful, at least for that, even if it’s got him here as a result.

With the door open he can hear a little of what’s happening above him. The footsteps of people milling around, the sound of crates being dragged along the floor and the very distinct sound of someone’s neck being broken and their body being carefully lowered to the ground so as not to make much of a sound.

Liu Sang flinches and then blinks in surprise, because he recognises those soft and distinctive footsteps, but it can’t be.

The radio on Xu Yongyu’s belt crackles and then a frantic voice starts speaking.

“We’re under attack. I don’t know what it is but it’s fast.”

Xu Yongyu hisses a curse and snaps at one of the guards. “You, watch him. If he moves, shoot him.”

The rest of them exit the room.

He closes his eyes to listen and try and gauge what’s happening. The sounds are getting louder now. He can hear people shouting in fear, and others crying out in pain.

The guard standing over him shuffles a little closer, and when Liu Sang opens his eyes again there’s a gun very clearly pointed at his head.

“I hope you do move,” the man says with a sneer. “Maybe you don’t need to. Maybe I’ll just tell them you tried to escape again.”

The door to the room crashes open. Or, rather, it’s smashed off its hinges and crashes to the floor. The sound is so loud it’s all Liu Sang can hear, followed by a ringing that drowns out the sound of everything else. He wants to press his hands over his ears, to make the noise stop, but his hands are still bound and all he can do is endure it.

A gun fires, and it’s so close to Liu Sang’s head that he can’t stop himself from crying out. He squeezes his eyes closed, just waiting for the pain and the ringing in his ears to stop.

The next thing he’s aware of is someone touching his shoulder and he flinches away with a whimper.

“Liu Sang.”

It’s barely audible above the ringing in his ears but he opens his eyes, because he knows that voice.

“Ouxiang?”

Zhang Qiling is looking at him in that intense way that always makes Liu Sang want to shrink back. It’s as though he can see through him, see all the things he keeps buried deep and locked away.

He tries to move but is prevented from doing so by a hand on his shoulder. He allows his eyes to close for a moment, knowing that if Zhang Qiling is here then he isn’t going to die today.

The hand leaves him and for a moment Liu Sang wants to weep because he feels so cold and alone without its grounding presence. Then the rope falls away from his wrists and ankles, and he sees Zhang Qiling sheathing his sword just as he comes back into Liu Sang’s line of sight.

“Xiaoge? Xiaoge, where are you?”

He flinches again at the very distinctive voice of Wu Xie yelling somewhere above them. What is he doing here?

“Wu Xie is looking for you,” he murmurs to Zhang Qiling in case he hadn’t heard. Everything in his head is fuzzy and he has no idea how loud Wu Xie’s voice actually is.

Zhang Qiling rises to his feet and taps out a message on the wall. Something about found and safe but Liu Sang can’t track all of it.

He winces when he hears footsteps thundering down the stairs. One set at first and then more. He can’t stop the small sound of pain when several people suddenly run into the room, their footsteps loud on the floor, so very loud.

“Liu Sang!”

“Is he okay?”

“Oh no!”

It’s a confusing jumble of sounds but he can just about make out the voices of Wu Xie, Pangzi and Kan Jian.

He moves to sit up again and this time no one stops him. Then Wu Xie is there, crouching down in front of him, running frantic hands over his face and body.

“Liu Sang! Are you okay? How are you feeling?”

It’s too much, and far too loud. He flinches and tries to scoot back but all that does is cause him more pain.

“Sorry,” Wu Xie replies in a more gentle whisper as he withdraws his hands. “How are you feeling?”

It’s hard to put into words but before he can answer Wu Xie turns his line of questioning to Zhang Qiling. “Is it safe to move him?”

There is absolutely no way he is going to lie here and let them talk about him like he’s not present. He moves to sit up again and this time no one stops him.

“I can walk,” he says, and he thinks he probably can. There’s only one way to find out.

When he moves to stand he instantly regrets it. Pain flares in his head and the ground feels like it’s moving beneath him. It’s still dark but he suspects his vision isn’t great either.

He contemplates just lying back down and letting Wu Xie do whatever he’s thinking about doing, but then there is an arm around his shoulders and Wu Xie’s voice is talking softly to him.

“Just take it slowly okay. If you need help just say, Kan Jian will carry you if needed.”

“Xu Yongyu?” He asks as Wu Xie slowly helps lift him to his feet.

“He won’t hurt you again, or anyone else,” Wu Xie replies darkly and Liu Sang isn’t sure he wants any more details than that.

Wu Xie keeps a steadying arm around him when he finally makes it to his feet but the floor is chopping and dipping beneath him and his knees buckle almost instantly.

“I’ve got him, laoban,” Kan Jian says softly and Liu Sang feels himself get lifted before the movement finally gets too much and everything fades away.

Getting out of the compound is far easier than getting in. Just about everyone is either dead or unconscious, and anyone they didn’t cross paths with seems to have made the sensible decision to run away.

Wu Xie takes the lead, with Xiaoge at his side in case there’s anyone else they need to fight. Kan Jian is behind them with Liu Sang on his back, and Pangzi is guarding the rear.

It only takes them a few minutes to get back to the van, where Weng Meng has the engine running in case they’d needed to make a quick getaway. His face twists in sympathy when he turns around to watch them carefully load Liu Sang onto the back seat.

“How is he?”

Wu Xie shrugs. “He’s hurt, but I think he’ll be okay.”

When he glances to Xiaoge for confirmation he gets a nod in response and that makes something loosen in his chest. Xiaoge has had a lot more experience treating injuries than he has. If he says Liu Sang is going to be okay then Wu Xie believes him.

There isn’t enough room for everyone to sit with Liu Sang lying across the back seats so Wu Xie carefully lifts Liu Sang’s head and places it in his lap. Pangzi sits up front with Wang Meng and Kan Jian and Xiaoge take the middle seats.

“Let’s go home,” he says in case there was any doubt where they were taking Liu Sang.

After a few minutes on the road he finds himself carding his fingers through Liu Sang’s hair. It’s matted with his own blood and still sticky to the touch, but Wu Xie finds it soothing. A reassurance that Liu Sang is with them and that nobody who mattered died tonight. He’s pretty sure Liu Sang would hate being petted like this if he was awake, but Wu Xie can’t seem to bring himself to stop.

“Hey,” Pangzi calls without turning around in his seat. “Maybe we should stop calling him ‘Jinx’ now. He’s lucky we got to him when we did.”

Wu Xie doesn’t answer. He’s not sure getting kidnapped and hurt like this is what he would consider lucky, and he really doesn’t want to think about what would have happened if they’d arrived even a few minutes later.

He rests his head against the window, hand still petting Liu Sang’s hair, and allows himself to doze.

When Liu Sang wakes up he opens his eyes cautiously and is surprised to find he’s not in as much pain as he’d expected. He recognises the room he’s in almost immediately. He’s crashed in this guest room a few times before when he’s stayed too late planning an expedition with Wu Xie.

After a few minutes of assessment he tries to move and, again, nowhere near as painful as he’d expected. He touches the spot where he’d hit his head and grimaces when his fingers come into contact with matted dried blood in his hair. He really needs to take a shower. But beyond that there’s just a small bandage which doesn’t hurt when his exploring fingers come into contact with it. He doesn’t even feel dizzy anymore.

He glances down. He’s still mostly fully dressed. Someone has removed his jacket and his shoes, and his glasses have been set down on the table next to the bed. He slips them on and gives sitting up a try. When that doesn’t bring any immediate pain or dizziness he gets out of bed and goes exploring. He figures if he’s at Wushanju then Wu Xie or at least Wang Meng will be around somewhere and can fill him in on what, exactly, happened.

He’s barely made it out of the bedroom when a heavy arm is slung over his shoulders. “Jinx! You’re awake! Just in time for lunch! You missed breakfast, sadly, but you probably needed the sleep. You look… well, I’ve seen worse. How are you feeling? Xiaoge fed you one of his remedies which he said would help with the pain. Probably best you don’t ask what’s in it.”

Pangzi is loud, and the information being thrown at him is rapid, but at least it doesn’t hurt. He ducks out from underneath Pangzi’s arm because he can walk just fine by himself and scowls at him.

“Yeah,” Pangzi laughs, “you’re fine. Come on, food’s this way.”

What he wants to do is insist that he’s fine and go home, but the thought of food is too much to resist. It must be almost a day since he last ate or drank something so he follows Pangzi in the direction of what he assumes is the kitchen.

“Liu Sang,” Wu Xie’s voice is just as bright as Pangzi’s has been and why is everyone so cheerful and so loud.

Wu Xie is stirring a pot of something that, admittedly, smells delicious and Liu Sang’s stomach betrays him by gurgling loudly. To his dismay that’s when he realises that Zhang Qiling is in the kitchen as well, leaning against the wall and watching Wu Xie. Or he was watching Wu Xie, at least. Now his attention is fixed on Liu Sang and he hates it when his ouxiang looks at him like this.

“You’ve got time to shower before the food will be ready,” Wu Xie says before Liu Sang can retreat from Zhang Qiling’s scrutiny. “I can lend you some clothes if you want to change into something clean.”

He’s trying very hard not to think about the fact that his t-shirt is stiff with his own dried blood, and that his trousers are dirty from all the time he spent lying on the floor of the room where he’d been held. He’s also trying desperately to ignore the smell, and imagines everyone else is doing the same.

“A shower would be good,” he finally admits and Wu Xie seems so proud of him for saying as much, his face lighting up with a beaming smile.

“Great! You know where the bathroom is, right? I’ll leave some clothes outside the door for you. Take as much time as you need.”

A hot shower is definitely preferable to everyone looking at him like he’s some fragile thing so he heads to the bathroom and strips out of his clothes. They probably need burning rather than cleaning. He’s not sure he wants any reminder of the previous night.

Carefully he peels the bandage away from his head. There’s no way to avoid getting it wet and he wants to see how bad the damage is.

The wound is smaller than he’d expected. Still red, but clearly well on the way to healing. Head wounds do have a tendency to bleed more than others. Other than that he looks mostly okay. His face is still a little dirty and he really needs to wash his hair but other than that he seems to be intact.

He turns on the shower, gives it a moment for the water to heat up and then steps under the stream. He can’t stop the soft moan from escaping from his lips as the hot water washes away the blood and the tension that he hadn’t realised he was still holding.

It doesn’t take long for him to wash his body and his hair, but he finds he really doesn’t want to get out. The water feels good, and here it’s just him. No one is looking at him like he’s about to break, and he isn’t being presented with the fact that he owes Wu Xie and his friends his life yet again.

Eventually, though, the water starts to cool and he’s forced to turn the shower off and wrap a towel around his waist. At least he feels better now, a little at least. He’s still hungry but he can deal with that in a minute.

True to his word Wu Xie has left a pile of clothes outside the door but it’s only when Liu Sang takes them into the bathroom that he realises that Wu Xie never specified whose clothes they were.

He should have realised when the bundle of clothing was all black that they didn’t belong to Wu Xie. Now he has to make a choice. Either change back into his own dirty, smelly clothes, or wear some of Zhang Qiling’s including, Liu Sang realises with horror, his underwear.

He stands there for a moment, weighing up the decision while his hair drips onto his shoulders and down his back. He can’t wear Zhang Qiling’s clothes. He just can’t. It’s too much, too intimate. But if he doesn’t he’ll have to admit as much not only to Zhang Qiling himself but to Wu Xie too. What if his ouxiang gets offended that Liu Sang doesn’t want to wear his clothes? What if he gets offended if Liu Sang does wear his clothes?

There’s a tap on the door and Liu Sang drops the clothes as though they’ve burned him.

“Are you okay in there, Jinx?” Pangzi calls. “You haven’t drowned or anything have you? Lunch is nearly ready.”

He needs to make a choice and, finally, being clean and not wearing the clothes he was kidnapped in wins.

“I’ll be there in a minute,” he snaps as he pulls on the trousers.

He forgoes the hoodie. The shirt, trousers, underwear and socks are necessary but it’s not particularly cold and he can manage without the extra layer.

He has no idea what to do with his filthy clothes so he takes them back to the bedroom he woke up in. He can deal with them later. Then he heads into the living area and finds Wu Xie, Pangzi and Zhang Qiling sitting around the table with dishes of steaming food in front of them. It doesn’t look like they’ve started eating yet and clearly they were waiting for him.

He flashes Zhang Qiling an apologetic smile for keeping him waiting and for wearing his clothes, and takes the empty seat that has been left for him.

Pangzi grabs his bowl before he can say anything, filling it with a variety of food items before handing it back. “Dig in!”

He knows he should be polite and wait for the rest of them to fill their bowls too, but the food smells so good and he’s so hungry. He grabs his chopsticks and starts shovelling food into his mouth.

“Easy,” Wu Xie says with a laugh. “If you eat too fast you’ll make yourself sick.”

Logically he knows that but he can’t seem to stop.

Once a few mouthfuls of food have hit his stomach, though, and he’s washed it down with some water he does ease up his pace a little. The others have started eating now and they lapse into a companionable silence while they eat.

“You can stay as long as you want,” Wu Xie says after a few minutes when Liu Sang sets his chopsticks down to give his stomach a little time to adjust to having food in it again. “If you want to rest some more after lunch you can, or if you’d rather go home Pangzi can drive you.”

He should go home. He’s intruded long enough. More than long enough, really, considering they’d come out in the middle of the night to rescue him.

“There’s no need,” he murmurs. “I can take a taxi.”

Pangzi snorts. “That wasn’t one of the options, Jinx. Either you stay here or I drive you home. Don’t mind which, but you’re not taking a taxi.”

Liu Sang tosses his chopsticks onto the table. “I can make my own way home! I don’t need a babysitter!”

“No one is saying you do,” Wu Xie says with a gentle smile. “But you’ve been through a lot and we just want to make sure you’re okay. Let us help you.”

“You’ve helped me enough,” he snaps and he hates himself even as he’s saying it. He knows he should be thanking them but their kindness is just making him feel even more pathetic. “I wasn’t even expecting— I’m fine.”

He makes the mistake of looking up. Wu Xie is staring at him with a devastating mixture of surprise and horror on his face.

“You weren’t expecting,” Wu Xie repeats faintly. “Did you think we were just going to leave you there?”

Liu Sang shrugs. “I wouldn’t have blamed you. I didn’t blame you. The secrets in that notebook are worth more than one consultant, and it was my own stupid fault for getting kidnapped in the first place.”

He thought that would make Wu Xie feel better, knowing that Liu Sang didn’t hold him responsible for anything that had happened but if anything he looks worse. His eyes are shining with tears now and, fuck, if he’s made Wu Xie cry his ouxiang will probably just flat out murder him.

“I’m sorry,” he says quickly although he’s not quite sure what he’s apologising for. “I’m grateful that you saved me, it’s just—”

“No!” Wu Xie exclaims loudly, “It’s not just anything! You’re not just a consultant, you’re our friend! I can’t believe you thought we’d leave you there to die.”

He’s about to argue some more, about how it would have been the right decision, when Wu Xie scoots around the table and pulls Liu Sang to his feet.

“What?”

Wu Xie pulls him into a crushing hug that’s so tight it almost knocks the wind out of him.

“I’m sorry if you ever felt like less than part of our group,” Wu Xie murmurs into his neck.

He honestly has no idea how to react to this sudden outburst of emotion. He can’t remember the last time anyone hugged him like this. Suddenly he has no idea what to do with his arms so he just stands there and lets it happen.

He nearly jumps when a warm body presses against his back and he feels arms wrap around him.

“Idiot,” Pangzi grumbles, his arms wrapped around both Liu Sang and Wu Xie.

Now he’s hot, and he’s pretty sure he’s in danger of getting crushed, but when he opens his mouth to speak he just gets hugged a little tighter.

From the corner of his eye he sees Zhang Qiling stand up as well and if he hugs him too Liu Sang is fairly sure he won’t survive this whole bizarre experience.

Zhang Qiling doesn’t hug him, though. Instead he squeezes Liu Sang’s shoulder and gives him a small smile, which might as well have been a hug considering how it makes his chest tighten.

After a couple of minutes he awkwardly pats Wu Xie on the back. “I’m too hot.”

Pangzi pulls back first, patting him on the shoulder with a heavy hand. “You’re one of us, Jinx, whether you like it or not. Now stop being an idiot and sit down and finish your food.”

Wu Xie lets go a moment later, flashing Liu Sang a bright smile that’s a little too watery for Liu Sang’s comfort, before sitting back down at the table.

Since leaving by himself apparently isn’t an option he sits back down too and finishes the food that’s in his bowl.

“Thank you,” he murmurs to no one in particular.

“I heard that Xue Wu has come into a very interesting looking vase,” Pangzi says to Wu Xie. “Perhaps we should pay him a visit later.”

“Genuine or fake?” Wu Xie asks, eyes bright with interest.

“I bet I can convince him it’s fake,” Pangzi replies with a positively wicked grin.

Liu Sang carries on eating while Wu Xie and Pangzi start scheming, letting their happy chatter wash over him. He’s never had a real home before, just places where he’s lived, and his biological family was certainly nothing worth speaking of. But right now, listening to two grown men plotting to swindle a fellow antiques dealer while their best friend watches with a fond smile, he wonders if maybe this is what home and family are supposed to feel like.