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Title: Night Letters
Author: marcicat
Fandom: Guardian (TV)
Characters: Zhao Yunlan, Da Qing, Shen Wei, Ye Zun
Tags: AU, Found Family, Cat Tribe Best Tribe, time travel speedrun, there was only one apartment, Ghost Cat
Summary: Da Qing finally remembered to give Zhao Yunlan his mail, and now they need a bigger apartment.
Authors note: I started this in January of 2020, and then 2020 happened. I've fished it out of my gdocs folders entirely for the purpose of writing a short follow-up fic for be a goldfish.
Zhao Yunlan
It was his favorite kind of night at the SID -- feet up on the desk, lollipop in hand, incomplete report waiting on the computer. Da Qing wandered in with a plate of dried fish and hopped up on the desk. “Here,” he said, holding out a stack of paper.
He knew that trick. “I’m not doing your paperwork for you, Damn Cat.”
“It’s not paperwork.”
He looked at it warily. “What is it?”
Da Qing waved it around. “Letters. You should read them.” His voice was unexpectedly serious, and Zhao Yunlan’s curiosity spiked.
He unfolded the papers and frowned. “This is my handwriting.”
“Mm.”
It was hard to say if Da Qing was talking to Zhao Yunlan or to himself. Or even the fish. He flipped through the pages quickly -- they weren’t all in his handwriting -- and then went back to the first one and started reading more carefully. It didn’t take long before he looked up again. “Damn Cat, this says you were supposed to give this to me when I was first promoted to Chief of the SID!”
Da Qing shrugged. “I forgot. It’s fine,” he added, waving at the papers. “Keep reading.”
He did. All the way through, and then again. “You’ve read these,” he said, only half a question.
“I’m a cat,” Da Qing answered, indignant. “King of the cats! Of course I read them!”
Of course he had. Well, it saved time, at least. “And?”
Da Qing shrugged again. “I can’t say for sure it’s not true. And there’s an easier way to find out than waiting for me to remember.”
There was. And it wasn’t like he was going to turn down an excuse to call the Black Cloaked Envoy. The esteemed Envoy had ignored him completely since his promotion; a blatant show of disrespect that he couldn’t help but admire. He’d worked hard to cultivate his own reputation for blunt speech made barely acceptable by laughs and teasing words. That the Envoy managed to convey so much without a single sound was -- impressive.
He lit the incense. And then he waited, fingers tapping impatiently on the desk. “Damn Cat, how long does this usually take?”
“How should I know?” Da Qing retorted. “The old Chief always had their meetings in private. He’s probably busy; show some respect.”
Busy with what, he wondered. What did the Envoy do when he wasn’t actively Envoy-ing? Did he stay in Haixing? Did he return to his people in Dixing? He realized he’d been quiet for too long when Da Qing reached out to push him, and he swatted the hand back. “You’re the one eating in his presence -- or are you planning to share?”
Da Qing looked alarmed, and he hastily shoved the remaining fish into his mouth, just as the temperature in the room dropped precipitously.
The Black Cloaked Envoy was spoken of in hushed tones even by the Department of Supervision. A mysterious figure -- a powerful, implacable symbol of Dixing justice come to life. Zhao Yunlan even found himself standing up to meet him when the portal appeared, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d done that with an authority figure.
So it was a surprise when the first thing the Envoy did was stumble. Da Qing sucked in a shocked breath -- which made him start coughing, since his mouth was still full of fish. Zhao Yunlan rolled his eyes as he patted between his shoulder blades. “Excellent first impression,” he muttered. He pulled a bottle of water from one of his drawers and handed it over. “Drink your water, King of the Cats.”
When he looked back, the Envoy didn’t appear to be judging his soul, or reading his mind, or any of the things people whispered about on late nights. He was still standing in the same spot, staring at Zhao Yunlan like he was seeing a ghost. If the letters were true, maybe he was.
“Ah -- Lord Envoy,” he said carefully. “Thank you for coming.” He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. He could suddenly understand the appeal of Da Qing’s approach. “You should read these.” He quickly pushed the letters across the desk.
The Black Cloaked Envoy picked them up cautiously, and read them silently. Then he closed his eyes and took a long breath. “Is this true?” he asked quietly.
Zhao Yunlan exchanged a look with Da Qing. “We were hoping you could tell us,” he said.
The Envoy lifted one of the pages. “What’s written in my hand is what happened as I remember it.” He hesitated, as if he was going to say something else. No words came, but Zhao Yunlan could see his fingers tighten around the letters.
He nodded, trying not to stare too obviously. From the way Da Qing was kicking him behind the desk, out of sight of the Envoy, he wasn’t doing a very good job. He waved his hands instead. “Good, good. Are we leaving now, then?”
It was enough to startle a reaction out of the Envoy, who blinked at him in surprise. “Excuse me?”
“Leaving? Dixing? Rescuing your brother?” He walked around to stand next to the Envoy, mostly to get out of range of Da Qing’s kicking. He shuffled the letters so his was on top, and tapped at part of it near the bottom of the page. “See? It says it right here. ‘Stay together.’”
The Envoy made a noise that could have been anything from agreement to disapproval. “Is that what it says?” he asked. “I thought I had experience with all types of handwriting. Chief Zhao, you’ve proven me wrong.”
Was the Envoy -- making a joke? He beamed. “Brother Black! Now you’ll definitely have to take us along. What if you need me to read something else?”
“No one can enter Dixing without the approval of the Regent,” the Envoy said.
But he didn’t move away, even though Zhao Yunlan was definitely standing too close. “I won’t tell if you won’t?” he offered, and held out his hand.
The Envoy reached out without hesitating and clasped it. It felt nice, even when it extended past a standard handshake and moved well into hand-holding territory. “Yes,” the Envoy said finally. “I agree.”
*******
Ye Zun
It wasn’t the first time his brother had deigned to visit him. It was, however, the first time he’d brought guests. Neither of them felt like Dixingren. He was, reluctantly, intrigued.
The short one stuck his hands in his pockets and gave the pillar a considering look. “Hello,” he said easily. “We’ve met before, but I don’t remember it.”
Had they?
The tall one laughed, and draped an arm around the short one’s shoulders. “And you’ve met me too, but I haven’t met you yet.” He wiggled the fingers of his free hand. “Time travel!”
His brother had brought lunatics to see him. He didn’t even have the grace to look embarrassed. Instead he was watching the others. He looked -- Ye Zun had only ever seen him look at one person that way. But no. It couldn’t be. Could it?
“Do you even have a plan?” the short one said. “What are we supposed to do now?”
“He has a plan,” the tall one said, waving towards the pillar.
He had many plans. He wasn’t sure whether he was pleased or insulted that his brother seemed surprised by the pronouncement. “What do you mean?”
The tall one gave an exaggerated sigh. “The letters,” he said. “The code. Brother Black, you commented on it yourself! Damn Cat, you saw it, right?”
He got an even more exaggerated eye roll in response. “Not everyone had a secret code phase that lasted twenty years. Just show us.”
The short one was a Yashou, he realized. Apparently Cat Tribe wasn’t as vanished as the rumors said they were. Interesting.
The tall one shuffled through a set of papers, and then turned his back to the pillar -- to hold up the pages, so he could see the writing? They were very trusting, he thought. He could probably absorb all three of them while his brother was distracted, and break out of the pillar on his own. On the other hand, what would he do after that?
Also, it was amusing to watch them assume not only his presence, but his ability to read documents -- coded or not -- based solely on -- what? The contents of the pages? His brother’s words? From their conversation, he could guess the pages had come from the Yashou, and they believed they had been written by their future selves. Somehow, this had led them to the pillar, armed with enthusiastic determination and absolutely none of the Hallows.
They were going through the pages a second time, this time in various combinations and with a light shining through them from behind, when a shape slunk out of the mist surrounding the pillar and approached the group. He tensed. He wasn’t expecting his brother’s expression to turn soft, or for the other two to look -- delighted? Had things truly changed so much?
“Ah, Little Cat!” the tall one said, the one they seemed determined to believe was some sort of -- younger version of Kunlun, ten thousand years after his death. “Would you like to see too?”
While they dutifully showed off the papers to Xiao Mao -- who couldn’t read; he really had no idea what they were thinking -- his brother took a careful step away, and addressed him directly for the first time.
“I’m sorry,” he said, which was so different than what Ye Zun expected to hear that he had a sudden, terrible fear that maybe he was hallucinating the whole thing. He stayed silent.
His brother’s voice was quiet when he spoke again. “When we were children -- the rebel leader threw me off the cliff when I challenged him. By the time I woke up and returned to the top, you were both gone. I failed you. But I never abandoned you.”
He reached out a hand like he was going to touch the pillar, and maybe the tall one really was Kunlun -- he certainly had the same sixth sense for when Shen Wei was in trouble. “Brother Black,” he said, surging forward. He didn’t -- quite -- make contact with Shen Wei’s sleeve, but it was enough to make him pull his hand back. Their eyes locked.
The Yashou made a choking sound behind them. “Right, it’s very clear that you’re both supposed to touch the pillar at the same time, so...”
He considered speaking -- questioning, demanding to know what they were doing and what, exactly, they thought it would accomplish. But Xiao Mao was calmly washing her paws, so there probably wasn’t any immediate danger. It wasn’t like no one had ever touched the pillar before; the most likely outcome was that nothing at all would happen. And even if it did, what could they do that would be worse? Kill him? He’d been ready for death ten thousand years ago. A different cage? He’d figure out a way out of that one too.
If they ever touched it. They were still staring at each other. The short one -- the Yashou -- coughed loudly, and his brother looked away first. “We should --” He gestured at the pillar.
“Yes, of course.” Their eyes met again, and they reached out together. Their hands met at the pillar, and he --
He was a child, chasing after his brother on a dusty path. He was his brother, watching over himself as he slept. He was searching, hiding, fighting both sides of a losing war. He was alone. He was a different child, watching his mother disappear in front of his eyes. He was waiting, he was graduating, he was gritting his teeth through a hundred different meetings in two worlds. He was reading familiar handwriting and feeling hope rise like the sun.
And then he was free. He touched the ground with his actual, physical hand, and tried to force his first act of freedom to be something other than crying. Xiao Mao launched herself at him, purring wildly, and he hid his face in her fur.
Someone nearby was laughing. Zhao Yunlan, his brain supplied eventually. “We did that on purpose?” he asked. His voice made his disbelief clear, and Ye Zun silently agreed with him. “Let’s not ask what the alternative was.”
*******
Zhao Yunlan
They did that. On purpose. He’d already said it out loud, but it kept repeating in his mind. He dropped onto the ground in a move much closer to a collapse than he wanted to admit, and closed his eyes. Da Qing’s familiar weight flung itself over him. “And where were you the whole time?” he said.
Da Qing scoffed. “I have ten thousand years of memories, whether I remember them or not. We would have been here all night. Besides, someone had to watch out for you.”
There was a quiet hiss from closer than he expected. “Another someone,” Da Qing conceded. “Other than the Ghost Cat.”
Idly, he wondered if Shen Wei felt left out, as the only one who didn’t have a cat sitting on him. His brain felt scattered -- which was probably the best he could hope for, given the circumstances. “How long?” he asked.
Luckily, Da Qing knew him well enough that he didn’t need to say more. “Not long. There wasn’t much to see from this side.”
He rallied his brain to try to form some kind of plan. “How closely is the pillar monitored?” he asked finally.
Silence. He opened his eyes, but no one was in his direct field of view. Had they left?
And then he heard someone say, “Why?”
They hadn’t left. “We snuck in,” he said, closing his eyes again. “Makes sense to know if we can just sneak back out.”
Another long silence. His brain shuttled back and forth between ‘they’re strangers’ and ‘you know them’ quickly enough to make him dizzy. Why was the one normal human of the group having to do the planning anyway?
“Not closely.” It was Shen Wei who answered. Shen Wei. The name he’d given the Lord Envoy in a past he didn’t remember. Didn’t remember yet?
“Well, that seems like an oversight,” Da Qing said, and Zhao Yunlan poked him in the side. “But good!” he added quickly. “Very helpful, in this particular situation.”
There was a muffled sound from the other side of him that had to be Shen Wei’s brother. “You’re leaving?”
He squinted in the direction of the voice. The emphasis of that question had been all wrong. “We’re -- all leaving?” He looked for Shen Wei, who had somehow moved within arm’s reach when he wasn’t paying attention. “Right?”
“Can you stand?” It was as much an answer as anything else, he supposed.
“Of course!” Maybe. He poked at Da Qing again, who prodded back until he was mostly upright. He looked more closely at Shen Wei, and frowned. “Hey,” he said. “What about you? Are you okay to --” He waved his hand in a gesture that hopefully communicated ‘use your Envoy powers to transport all of us back’ without having to get out all those words.
Shen Wei’s eyes snapped back to him, like he’d been lost in thought. “Excuse me?”
“Are you all right?” he asked, softer.
There was a long pause, and then Shen Wei said, “It’s not safe to stay here.”
It didn’t seem like too much of a jump to assume that meant ‘not really,’ but there wasn’t anything they could do about it at the moment. Unless -- “Wait, would it be better for you? To stay here?” Dark energy was more plentiful in Dixing. “The treaty --” He stopped, a shared memory suddenly replaying in his head.
Shen Wei looked away. “It’s not a concern,” he said.
No, he supposed it wasn’t. “In that case, the SID?” It was where they’d started from, despite its drawbacks.
“Too many people,” Da Qing said. “Lin Jing is there.”
He wasn’t going to get into an argument about Lin Jing again, and there weren’t actually that many other options. “Our place, then.” He waved towards Shen Wei again, more unsteadily than he would have liked. Standing had made the pain in his head increase sharply, and he tried not to squint. “Unless you have somewhere?”
“No.”
Somehow, he was sure that was a ‘no, I don’t have anywhere,’ and not a ‘no, not your place.’ “Ye Zun?” he prompted.
“I’ve been trapped in a pillar for ten thousand years, why would I have a safehouse?”
He blinked. That wasn’t either kind of no.
“We could be having this conversation somewhere comfortable,” Da Qing interrupted. “With snacks.”
Shen Wei finally seemed to realize that Zhao Yunlan really shouldn’t be the one leading any sort of planning, let alone making decisions. Which was good, since it turned out the answer to his first question should have been ‘not for long.’ His vision was fuzzing out at the edges.
“May I?” he heard Shen Wei ask.
“Not you,” Da Qing muttered in his ear. And then, louder, “Yes, yes, we’re ready. We’ve been ready!”
There was a rush of cold, a heartbeat’s sense of unfathomable vastness, and then the familiar darkness of his apartment. It felt like he’d just left, and yet had been away forever. He dropped his head on Da Qing’s shoulder. “I’m going to pass out now,” he muttered. “Stay, go, suit yourselves. We’ll meet up later.”
Author: marcicat
Fandom: Guardian (TV)
Characters: Zhao Yunlan, Da Qing, Shen Wei, Ye Zun
Tags: AU, Found Family, Cat Tribe Best Tribe, time travel speedrun, there was only one apartment, Ghost Cat
Summary: Da Qing finally remembered to give Zhao Yunlan his mail, and now they need a bigger apartment.
Authors note: I started this in January of 2020, and then 2020 happened. I've fished it out of my gdocs folders entirely for the purpose of writing a short follow-up fic for be a goldfish.
Zhao Yunlan
It was his favorite kind of night at the SID -- feet up on the desk, lollipop in hand, incomplete report waiting on the computer. Da Qing wandered in with a plate of dried fish and hopped up on the desk. “Here,” he said, holding out a stack of paper.
He knew that trick. “I’m not doing your paperwork for you, Damn Cat.”
“It’s not paperwork.”
He looked at it warily. “What is it?”
Da Qing waved it around. “Letters. You should read them.” His voice was unexpectedly serious, and Zhao Yunlan’s curiosity spiked.
He unfolded the papers and frowned. “This is my handwriting.”
“Mm.”
It was hard to say if Da Qing was talking to Zhao Yunlan or to himself. Or even the fish. He flipped through the pages quickly -- they weren’t all in his handwriting -- and then went back to the first one and started reading more carefully. It didn’t take long before he looked up again. “Damn Cat, this says you were supposed to give this to me when I was first promoted to Chief of the SID!”
Da Qing shrugged. “I forgot. It’s fine,” he added, waving at the papers. “Keep reading.”
He did. All the way through, and then again. “You’ve read these,” he said, only half a question.
“I’m a cat,” Da Qing answered, indignant. “King of the cats! Of course I read them!”
Of course he had. Well, it saved time, at least. “And?”
Da Qing shrugged again. “I can’t say for sure it’s not true. And there’s an easier way to find out than waiting for me to remember.”
There was. And it wasn’t like he was going to turn down an excuse to call the Black Cloaked Envoy. The esteemed Envoy had ignored him completely since his promotion; a blatant show of disrespect that he couldn’t help but admire. He’d worked hard to cultivate his own reputation for blunt speech made barely acceptable by laughs and teasing words. That the Envoy managed to convey so much without a single sound was -- impressive.
He lit the incense. And then he waited, fingers tapping impatiently on the desk. “Damn Cat, how long does this usually take?”
“How should I know?” Da Qing retorted. “The old Chief always had their meetings in private. He’s probably busy; show some respect.”
Busy with what, he wondered. What did the Envoy do when he wasn’t actively Envoy-ing? Did he stay in Haixing? Did he return to his people in Dixing? He realized he’d been quiet for too long when Da Qing reached out to push him, and he swatted the hand back. “You’re the one eating in his presence -- or are you planning to share?”
Da Qing looked alarmed, and he hastily shoved the remaining fish into his mouth, just as the temperature in the room dropped precipitously.
The Black Cloaked Envoy was spoken of in hushed tones even by the Department of Supervision. A mysterious figure -- a powerful, implacable symbol of Dixing justice come to life. Zhao Yunlan even found himself standing up to meet him when the portal appeared, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d done that with an authority figure.
So it was a surprise when the first thing the Envoy did was stumble. Da Qing sucked in a shocked breath -- which made him start coughing, since his mouth was still full of fish. Zhao Yunlan rolled his eyes as he patted between his shoulder blades. “Excellent first impression,” he muttered. He pulled a bottle of water from one of his drawers and handed it over. “Drink your water, King of the Cats.”
When he looked back, the Envoy didn’t appear to be judging his soul, or reading his mind, or any of the things people whispered about on late nights. He was still standing in the same spot, staring at Zhao Yunlan like he was seeing a ghost. If the letters were true, maybe he was.
“Ah -- Lord Envoy,” he said carefully. “Thank you for coming.” He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. He could suddenly understand the appeal of Da Qing’s approach. “You should read these.” He quickly pushed the letters across the desk.
The Black Cloaked Envoy picked them up cautiously, and read them silently. Then he closed his eyes and took a long breath. “Is this true?” he asked quietly.
Zhao Yunlan exchanged a look with Da Qing. “We were hoping you could tell us,” he said.
The Envoy lifted one of the pages. “What’s written in my hand is what happened as I remember it.” He hesitated, as if he was going to say something else. No words came, but Zhao Yunlan could see his fingers tighten around the letters.
He nodded, trying not to stare too obviously. From the way Da Qing was kicking him behind the desk, out of sight of the Envoy, he wasn’t doing a very good job. He waved his hands instead. “Good, good. Are we leaving now, then?”
It was enough to startle a reaction out of the Envoy, who blinked at him in surprise. “Excuse me?”
“Leaving? Dixing? Rescuing your brother?” He walked around to stand next to the Envoy, mostly to get out of range of Da Qing’s kicking. He shuffled the letters so his was on top, and tapped at part of it near the bottom of the page. “See? It says it right here. ‘Stay together.’”
The Envoy made a noise that could have been anything from agreement to disapproval. “Is that what it says?” he asked. “I thought I had experience with all types of handwriting. Chief Zhao, you’ve proven me wrong.”
Was the Envoy -- making a joke? He beamed. “Brother Black! Now you’ll definitely have to take us along. What if you need me to read something else?”
“No one can enter Dixing without the approval of the Regent,” the Envoy said.
But he didn’t move away, even though Zhao Yunlan was definitely standing too close. “I won’t tell if you won’t?” he offered, and held out his hand.
The Envoy reached out without hesitating and clasped it. It felt nice, even when it extended past a standard handshake and moved well into hand-holding territory. “Yes,” the Envoy said finally. “I agree.”
*******
Ye Zun
It wasn’t the first time his brother had deigned to visit him. It was, however, the first time he’d brought guests. Neither of them felt like Dixingren. He was, reluctantly, intrigued.
The short one stuck his hands in his pockets and gave the pillar a considering look. “Hello,” he said easily. “We’ve met before, but I don’t remember it.”
Had they?
The tall one laughed, and draped an arm around the short one’s shoulders. “And you’ve met me too, but I haven’t met you yet.” He wiggled the fingers of his free hand. “Time travel!”
His brother had brought lunatics to see him. He didn’t even have the grace to look embarrassed. Instead he was watching the others. He looked -- Ye Zun had only ever seen him look at one person that way. But no. It couldn’t be. Could it?
“Do you even have a plan?” the short one said. “What are we supposed to do now?”
“He has a plan,” the tall one said, waving towards the pillar.
He had many plans. He wasn’t sure whether he was pleased or insulted that his brother seemed surprised by the pronouncement. “What do you mean?”
The tall one gave an exaggerated sigh. “The letters,” he said. “The code. Brother Black, you commented on it yourself! Damn Cat, you saw it, right?”
He got an even more exaggerated eye roll in response. “Not everyone had a secret code phase that lasted twenty years. Just show us.”
The short one was a Yashou, he realized. Apparently Cat Tribe wasn’t as vanished as the rumors said they were. Interesting.
The tall one shuffled through a set of papers, and then turned his back to the pillar -- to hold up the pages, so he could see the writing? They were very trusting, he thought. He could probably absorb all three of them while his brother was distracted, and break out of the pillar on his own. On the other hand, what would he do after that?
Also, it was amusing to watch them assume not only his presence, but his ability to read documents -- coded or not -- based solely on -- what? The contents of the pages? His brother’s words? From their conversation, he could guess the pages had come from the Yashou, and they believed they had been written by their future selves. Somehow, this had led them to the pillar, armed with enthusiastic determination and absolutely none of the Hallows.
They were going through the pages a second time, this time in various combinations and with a light shining through them from behind, when a shape slunk out of the mist surrounding the pillar and approached the group. He tensed. He wasn’t expecting his brother’s expression to turn soft, or for the other two to look -- delighted? Had things truly changed so much?
“Ah, Little Cat!” the tall one said, the one they seemed determined to believe was some sort of -- younger version of Kunlun, ten thousand years after his death. “Would you like to see too?”
While they dutifully showed off the papers to Xiao Mao -- who couldn’t read; he really had no idea what they were thinking -- his brother took a careful step away, and addressed him directly for the first time.
“I’m sorry,” he said, which was so different than what Ye Zun expected to hear that he had a sudden, terrible fear that maybe he was hallucinating the whole thing. He stayed silent.
His brother’s voice was quiet when he spoke again. “When we were children -- the rebel leader threw me off the cliff when I challenged him. By the time I woke up and returned to the top, you were both gone. I failed you. But I never abandoned you.”
He reached out a hand like he was going to touch the pillar, and maybe the tall one really was Kunlun -- he certainly had the same sixth sense for when Shen Wei was in trouble. “Brother Black,” he said, surging forward. He didn’t -- quite -- make contact with Shen Wei’s sleeve, but it was enough to make him pull his hand back. Their eyes locked.
The Yashou made a choking sound behind them. “Right, it’s very clear that you’re both supposed to touch the pillar at the same time, so...”
He considered speaking -- questioning, demanding to know what they were doing and what, exactly, they thought it would accomplish. But Xiao Mao was calmly washing her paws, so there probably wasn’t any immediate danger. It wasn’t like no one had ever touched the pillar before; the most likely outcome was that nothing at all would happen. And even if it did, what could they do that would be worse? Kill him? He’d been ready for death ten thousand years ago. A different cage? He’d figure out a way out of that one too.
If they ever touched it. They were still staring at each other. The short one -- the Yashou -- coughed loudly, and his brother looked away first. “We should --” He gestured at the pillar.
“Yes, of course.” Their eyes met again, and they reached out together. Their hands met at the pillar, and he --
He was a child, chasing after his brother on a dusty path. He was his brother, watching over himself as he slept. He was searching, hiding, fighting both sides of a losing war. He was alone. He was a different child, watching his mother disappear in front of his eyes. He was waiting, he was graduating, he was gritting his teeth through a hundred different meetings in two worlds. He was reading familiar handwriting and feeling hope rise like the sun.
And then he was free. He touched the ground with his actual, physical hand, and tried to force his first act of freedom to be something other than crying. Xiao Mao launched herself at him, purring wildly, and he hid his face in her fur.
Someone nearby was laughing. Zhao Yunlan, his brain supplied eventually. “We did that on purpose?” he asked. His voice made his disbelief clear, and Ye Zun silently agreed with him. “Let’s not ask what the alternative was.”
*******
Zhao Yunlan
They did that. On purpose. He’d already said it out loud, but it kept repeating in his mind. He dropped onto the ground in a move much closer to a collapse than he wanted to admit, and closed his eyes. Da Qing’s familiar weight flung itself over him. “And where were you the whole time?” he said.
Da Qing scoffed. “I have ten thousand years of memories, whether I remember them or not. We would have been here all night. Besides, someone had to watch out for you.”
There was a quiet hiss from closer than he expected. “Another someone,” Da Qing conceded. “Other than the Ghost Cat.”
Idly, he wondered if Shen Wei felt left out, as the only one who didn’t have a cat sitting on him. His brain felt scattered -- which was probably the best he could hope for, given the circumstances. “How long?” he asked.
Luckily, Da Qing knew him well enough that he didn’t need to say more. “Not long. There wasn’t much to see from this side.”
He rallied his brain to try to form some kind of plan. “How closely is the pillar monitored?” he asked finally.
Silence. He opened his eyes, but no one was in his direct field of view. Had they left?
And then he heard someone say, “Why?”
They hadn’t left. “We snuck in,” he said, closing his eyes again. “Makes sense to know if we can just sneak back out.”
Another long silence. His brain shuttled back and forth between ‘they’re strangers’ and ‘you know them’ quickly enough to make him dizzy. Why was the one normal human of the group having to do the planning anyway?
“Not closely.” It was Shen Wei who answered. Shen Wei. The name he’d given the Lord Envoy in a past he didn’t remember. Didn’t remember yet?
“Well, that seems like an oversight,” Da Qing said, and Zhao Yunlan poked him in the side. “But good!” he added quickly. “Very helpful, in this particular situation.”
There was a muffled sound from the other side of him that had to be Shen Wei’s brother. “You’re leaving?”
He squinted in the direction of the voice. The emphasis of that question had been all wrong. “We’re -- all leaving?” He looked for Shen Wei, who had somehow moved within arm’s reach when he wasn’t paying attention. “Right?”
“Can you stand?” It was as much an answer as anything else, he supposed.
“Of course!” Maybe. He poked at Da Qing again, who prodded back until he was mostly upright. He looked more closely at Shen Wei, and frowned. “Hey,” he said. “What about you? Are you okay to --” He waved his hand in a gesture that hopefully communicated ‘use your Envoy powers to transport all of us back’ without having to get out all those words.
Shen Wei’s eyes snapped back to him, like he’d been lost in thought. “Excuse me?”
“Are you all right?” he asked, softer.
There was a long pause, and then Shen Wei said, “It’s not safe to stay here.”
It didn’t seem like too much of a jump to assume that meant ‘not really,’ but there wasn’t anything they could do about it at the moment. Unless -- “Wait, would it be better for you? To stay here?” Dark energy was more plentiful in Dixing. “The treaty --” He stopped, a shared memory suddenly replaying in his head.
Shen Wei looked away. “It’s not a concern,” he said.
No, he supposed it wasn’t. “In that case, the SID?” It was where they’d started from, despite its drawbacks.
“Too many people,” Da Qing said. “Lin Jing is there.”
He wasn’t going to get into an argument about Lin Jing again, and there weren’t actually that many other options. “Our place, then.” He waved towards Shen Wei again, more unsteadily than he would have liked. Standing had made the pain in his head increase sharply, and he tried not to squint. “Unless you have somewhere?”
“No.”
Somehow, he was sure that was a ‘no, I don’t have anywhere,’ and not a ‘no, not your place.’ “Ye Zun?” he prompted.
“I’ve been trapped in a pillar for ten thousand years, why would I have a safehouse?”
He blinked. That wasn’t either kind of no.
“We could be having this conversation somewhere comfortable,” Da Qing interrupted. “With snacks.”
Shen Wei finally seemed to realize that Zhao Yunlan really shouldn’t be the one leading any sort of planning, let alone making decisions. Which was good, since it turned out the answer to his first question should have been ‘not for long.’ His vision was fuzzing out at the edges.
“May I?” he heard Shen Wei ask.
“Not you,” Da Qing muttered in his ear. And then, louder, “Yes, yes, we’re ready. We’ve been ready!”
There was a rush of cold, a heartbeat’s sense of unfathomable vastness, and then the familiar darkness of his apartment. It felt like he’d just left, and yet had been away forever. He dropped his head on Da Qing’s shoulder. “I’m going to pass out now,” he muttered. “Stay, go, suit yourselves. We’ll meet up later.”
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