Archive of Our Own

Zhao Yunlan's head is killing him. He groans and rolls over, thankful he's on a bed and not his sofa, because falling off would make it worse. Someone makes a soft noise of concern and a cool hand brushes against his forehead. Zhao Yunlan moans in relief; it feels like heaven. He blinks against the harsh light (not his room, oh no, he’s in a hospital) and settles his gaze on one of the prettiest people he’s ever seen.

“How does your head feel?” the handsome man asks.

“Like shit,” Zhao Yunlan says honestly.

The man’s lips twitch in amusement but it’s overridden by concern. He brushes at Zhao Yunlan’s bangs.

“Yeah,” he says. “I’ll get the nurse. She said she’ll be giving you more drugs.”

“Thank fuck,” Zhao Yunlan says and he whimpers when the man leaves, taking that deliciously cool hand with him. He returns with the nurse at his heels; who hands him a small plastic cup with tablets that he swallows, chasing it down with the warm glass of water the man dutifully passes over. Zhao Yunlan relaxes with a sigh, the fuzzy shape of the handsome man watching him slip into blessed sleep.

When he wakes next, the man is nowhere to be seen but Da Qing is curled up at the foot of the bed. Zhao Yunlan doesn’t know how he got in; the fat cat must have snuck in despite the ‘no pets in the hospital’ policy and Zhao Yunlan smirks.

“You’re awake and I’m already pissed at you,” Da Qing says.

“Shut up,” Zhao Yunlan says. His voice is rough after...disuse? From screaming? It sounds husky and sexy but it’s also another ache to add to the endless list.

Da Qing's ears perk up and he jumps off the bed. Zhao Yunlan cranes his neck to see him, twining around before whispering to the handsome man from before. It's weird to see Da Qing being familiar to anyone besides himself or his mom. Da Qing returns to the bed, sitting in between Zhao Yunlan's legs with a wiggle of his butt.

"The others have been clamoring to see you. They're not as clever as me so they can't sneak in," he says with a snicker.

"Fat cats aren't allowed to harass sick patients." Zhao Yunlan pokes at Da Qing's fuzzy belly with his big toe. Da Qing grimaces at being touched by Zhao Yunlan's feet.

They don't get much further because the handsome man returns along with a swarm of people, all of them eager and excited, and Zhao Yunlan takes note of the motley crew: a zombie, a snake, a suspicious monk, and a single ordinary human who almost walks into the door frame. Zhao Yunlan smiles and pretends like he knows them all, not sure who is on his side or what’s going on. Da Qing recognizes them and they all refer to him as ‘Boss’ which is a good sign; Zhao Yunlan likes the idea of having underlings.

They start talking about an SID but no one explains it to him. It sounds like some kind of organization and Zhao Yunlan picks up that he’s the one in charge which is a horrible idea.

Handsome man gains a name and when Zhao Yunlan repeats it, Shen Wei beams at him; Zhao Yunlan’s heart thumps at such a gorgeous look being directed at him. Shen Wei is dangerous to be around.

The minute they’re gone (thank fuck for proper visiting hours), Da Qing turns to look at him, unimpressed.

“Who the hell was that?” Zhao Yunlan asks. “What happened? Why don’t I know any of those people?”

“I knew it,” he says with a sigh. “Okay. What do you remember?”

Zhao Yunlan purses his lips and crosses his arms, tilting his head back as he searches his memories. They’re quiet for a solid five minutes as Da Qing’s eyes widen.

“Fuck,” Da Qing says.

“Yeah.” Zhao Yunlan sighs and lets his arms flop back to his side. “Where’s my phone?”

“Confiscated,” Da Qing says. “Your...it’s in safe hands.”

Zhao Yunlan glares at him but his head is throbbing. If Da Qing wants to keep his phone away from him to keep from triggering something that’s fine for now. Considering how much his head hurts from being awake Zhao Yunlan has no desire to test those limits.

“Come be a cute obedient cat for once in your life,” Zhao Yunlan orders, patting the space by him.

Da Qing huffs but obliges.

“I’m always cute,” he says as he curls up, unprotesting as Zhao Yunlan sinks his fingers into his fur.

Zhao Yunlan snorts but with the comforting weight beside him and the low rumbling of Da Qing’s breath, he slips back to blessed sleep. He has a lot of questions but it’s clear he’s not getting answers anytime soon.

#

"We were mediating a dispute between the crows and the foxes. Normally that's not our jurisdiction. We let the clans argue and bicker as they like, but it was spilling over into human affairs."

"And I'm the Guardian so it was my job to tell them to cut that shit out," Zhao Yunlan finishes, happy to be tugging some pants on instead of walking around half naked in a hospital gown. He had fun flashing the cute nurses on 'accident' but it's less fun when his ass is hanging out for every hungry granny to 'accidentally' smack. Zhao Yunlan closes his eyes as he stands up, his head rushing at the sensation. "What happened to me again?"

Da Qing is standing up on all fours, like he could catch Zhao Yunlan if he were to fall, and Zhao Yunlan would laugh if he didn’t know that would send his head pounding.

"We're not sure. It was a mess. My guess is that one of the crows hit you in the head with a memory loss spell. They couldn't have been that good if you're already regaining memories though."

"I still want to strangle them," Zhao Yunlan sings out and plops down on the bed so he can yank his socks and shoes on. "The memories are coming out of order though. Is that normal?"

"Probably," Da Qing says with a shrug. "I asked them what I could. They wouldn't own up to which one of them did it and honestly they might not even know; everyone was fighting. But they said it shouldn't cause any lasting harm. It’ll be better if you let your memories come back on their own. If you don't regain most of your memories within the month they're going to send one of their healers to look you over. But uh, some of us didn't like that idea very much."

Zhao Yunlan raises an eyebrow at him but doesn't ask. He understands not wanting to have his brain overloaded. It's not a bad idea. But something about it doesn't seem right to Zhao Yunlan and he ties his shoes in silence, waiting to see what else Da Qing lets slip.

Da Qing talks about nothing, chattering away, and Zhao Yunlan rolls his eyes at him as he stands up again. The dizzy spell hits harder and his knees buckle, but instead of hitting the ground, someone catches him.

Zhao Yunlan looks up and beams.

"Ah, thanks, roomie," Zhao Yunlan says.

Shen Wei smiles at him, small and tight, helping him to stand up. Zhao Yunlan doesn't believe for a second that this guy is his roommate. One look at him and you can tell that they aren't anything alike. This guy's pants are pressed, shoes are shined, and he has garters on his sleeves. He's the perfect image of a productive member of society. Meanwhile, Zhao Yunlan can't even remember the last time he had a matching pair of socks and he sniffs his clothes before deciding most items are 'good enough'. This includes underwear and he's never been ashamed of it because there was no one around to call him out on it.

Zhao Yunlan can't think of a reason why such an elegant man is hanging out with him. Maybe Zhao Yunlan is blackmailing him? But that's a lot of work for a lazy guy like him. Maybe he saved Shen Wei and this is his way of repaying him? That sort of flies but it begs a lot more questions. And Shen Wei doesn’t seem keen to answer many of them; they think he doesn’t notice but Zhao Yunlan sees the looks Shen Wei and Da Qing exchange after nearly every sentence.

“The hospital has a wheelchair for you to use,” Shen Wei says and Zhao Yunlan scrutinizes it for a second before deciding that yeah, he would like to be pushed around. It seems like a much better idea than walking when his head is still throbbing constantly.

They’re quiet in the taxi and Zhao Yunlan stares at Shen Wei without remorse. Shen Wei doesn’t seem unduly bothered by it. He gives him a small smile whenever their eyes meet and then looks back out the window. They pull up to a beauty of a house and Zhao Yunlan looks at Shen Wei for confirmation. Shen Wei gets out of the taxi to go round the other side to help Zhao Yunlan out and that gives Zhao Yunlan a moment to himself so he can gape at the house.

“This is where I live?” Zhao Yunlan can’t stop his jaw from dropping. How the hell does he afford this? Zhao Yunlan can’t budget for shit. Oh fuck, is Shen Wei paying for all of this? He mentioned he was a professor at the university which is only a few blocks away so that explains why he lives here. Did Zhao Yunlan somehow scam his way into living with Shen Wei?

“Hm, you bought it. I can show you the deed,” Shen Wei says as he holds Zhao Yunlan steady.

“I own it? What the fuck,” Zhao Yunlan says. Alternate universes exist so maybe it’s not that he’s jumbled his memory but he’s gone into a totally different dimension, one where he has his shit together.

Shen Wei chuckles as he helps Zhao Yunlan into the house, fingertips lingering on the key for a breath. It’s an odd habit that Zhao Yunlan takes note of to turn over later. His mind is still blown by the fact that he lives in such a gorgeous place.

Shen Wei pauses as he looks up to where the rooms must be.

“Stairs,” Zhao Yunlan intones. He rolls his shoulders and neck as he stands up. “Okay, it might take me awhile, and you’ll have to catch me if I fall, but if I go slow I should-”

Shen Wei, in a surprising show of strength, scoops him up and starts climbing. Zhao Yunlan is struck dumb and flails for a heartbeat. Then he settles down so he doesn’t end up sending them sprawling down the stairs.

“Professor! You got some muscles under here?” he asks, poking his chest. Part of him is embarrassed at how he’s being carried but something in him is also pleased and there’s a warmth that he hasn’t felt before.

“It seemed like the easier choice,” Shen Wei says, ears burning as he refuses to meet Zhao Yunlan’s eyes. Despite the strength it must take to carry a full grown man up a flight of stairs (without getting even the slightest bit winded? Suspicious. And hot.), Shen Wei is nothing but gentle as he deposits Zhao Yunlan onto his bed.

Except this can’t be his bed because this thing is massive; also the sheets are folded, clean, and there is no sight of clutter on them. He looks around, relaxing a little when he sees hints of himself in the room. His favorite video games are tucked away by the television screen, there’s a half-broken game with a bunch of tools around it on the shelf by it, and a messy pile of what looks like paperwork on the nightstand.

Still, this room is too clean to be Zhao Yunlan’s. He can’t find a single sock anywhere on the floor or the furniture.

“I’m sorry. I came in and organized while you were in the hospital,” Shen Wei says. He doesn’t look apologetic. Zhao Yunlan blinks at him, trying to figure out what his expression means, but Shen Wei won’t meet his eyes. “I thought it would be prudent to have a pathway into the room.”

Zhao Yunlan can’t help but laugh at that and he stretches out on his bed. His back sings in relief after the mediocrity of the hospital bed. Is this memory foam? Did he actually buy himself a decent piece of furniture?

“Yeah, probably for the best. Tripping on my own shit and ending up back in the hospital would suck,” Zhao Yunlan says. He’d never hear the end of it from Da Qing.

Shen Wei smiles; it’s fake but Zhao Yunlan doesn’t call him out on it. Does he have that right? He might but he doesn’t know right now.

“Where’s your room?”

“Across the hall. I’ll hear you if you need help with anything. And you’re free to call out to me as well. I’m more than happy to assist you,” Shen Wei says. There’s a lot hiding behind those words but Zhao Yunlan’s head is throbbing hard again, and he nods in appreciation. Shen Wei glances at him, meeting his eyes for half a second, then turns to leave. “I’ll go get your medicine.”

“Please and fucking thank you,” Zhao Yunlan says. Shen Wei’s shoulders shake in a silent chuckle and he leaves.

Zhao Yunlan looks at the ring on his finger. It’s a simple ring, made of a warm gold that fits so perfectly Zhao Yunlan hadn’t noticed it at first. He twists it half way off, studying the pale skin under it, at the pronounced difference in color. Shen Wei has a matching ring. Zhao Yunlan slips the ring back on.

“Roommates. Bullshit,” he says with a snort to the empty room.

#

Zhao Yunlan’s memories don’t make sense. He remembers long gone eras, different names, multitudes of people; sometimes Da Qing is there but it’s rare. He’s on leave from work in order to recover though he’s sure he’s banned from the office because he would ask too many questions. Zhao Yunlan wakes up from a nap on the sofa, jolted out of his thoughts when the cat himself comes into the living room.

“Lazy,” Da Qing chides as he jumps up onto the other side of the couch. He smells like pollen and fresh air. Zhao Yunlan looks out the window then clicks his tongue at Da Qing.

“Fat kitty couldn’t catch a yummy bird?”

“Fuck you,” Da Qing says. “I wasn’t even trying. Besides, uh, Shen Wei is feeding me today. He always gives me good food.”

Zhao Yunlan raises an eyebrow at him, wondering what he was actually going to call Shen Wei. His workers and underlings all call Shen Wei ‘Teacher Shen’ which checks out. But the name sounds awkward coming from Da Qing and he’s close to calling the cat out on it. Instead he pats his stomach and Da Qing rolls his eyes.

“I’m not going to sit there. You’ll spit on me or something.”

“That’s nasty,” Zhao Yunlan says. “Besides, you’re too heavy, you’ll suffocate me. Hey, why don’t my memories make any sense?”

“Because you’re stupid,” Da Qing says, unable to help himself. His expression turns serious. “What do you mean?”

“It feels more like I’m going through a ‘greatest hits of the decade’ spool,” Zhao Yunlan explains. He rubs at his forehead, scowling when his fingers slip against the sweat on his brow. The last bout of memories had been brutal, nothing but the misery and suffering of war. It wasn’t a recent battle either but one of olden times, where he fought a sword and then his bare fists in a desperate struggle to survive. He hadn’t, in the end.

Those are the memories Zhao Yunlan hates the most, when he wakes up gasping with the taste of death in his mouth and agony ringing through his bones and flesh. He remembers the act of dying; he wakes with tears in his eyes and his gut churning.

“Past lives, maybe,” Da Qing says, trying to be off handed and casual about it. He’s a better liar than Shen Wei, who just goes painfully silent when there’s something he doesn’t want to talk about, but Zhao Yunlan knows his cat’s tells.

“Like reincarnation? You think I’m lucky enough to have been reincarnated? Or unlucky?” Zhao Yunlan asks with a laugh. He forces himself to sit up and get a glass of water from the kitchen, downing it all in one go. It’s taken him the better part of the past week but he’s steady on his feet again, and he can make it up the stairs on his own. He tries to minimize how many times he goes up and down though because his dizzy spells have lessened but they’re still frequent.

Da Qing gives him an uncomfortable look and Zhao Yunlan sighs.

“Yunlan,” Da Qing says.

“It’s fine,” Zhao Yunlan says, massaging his neck. “I get it.”

Zhao Yunlan drops back onto the couch, giving a single silent shake of his shoulders as Da Qing curls up against his thigh. He rests his hand on Da Qing’s back, catching sight of the ring on his finger. Part of him wonders if he should take it off but he doesn’t have enough information to make a decision like that.

“This is frustrating,” he murmurs.

“Yeah,” Da Qing says. “I’m sorry. I want to tell you.”

“I know,” Zhao Yunlan says. He sets his hands in his lap so he can twist the ring. Da Qing watches him, discomfort plain on his face, and Zhao Yunlan can’t imagine how the owner of the matching ring feels. It must be brutal. “I want to remember. I think...I want to believe that I’m very happy in this life.”

“You are. Disgustingly so.” Da Qing scrunches his face and Zhao Yunlan laughs despite himself. He pokes at the tip of Da Qing’s ear, amused when it flickers away from his touch. “You haven’t lost it. It’s just temporarily out of reach.”

Zhao Yunlan looks around the living room. He can see the spaces where someone else has tried to hide their presence, tried to sweep away the evidence of their lives entwined, and he’s done a good job. But there are faded areas where objects sat, little tells here and there, and Zhao Yunlan’s heart aches at the thought of that someone going around and erasing a ‘them’ into a ‘him’.

“Tell him that too, okay?”

Da Qing nods without needing to be told further.

When Shen Wei gets back from work, Da Qing meows politely, and the two convene in the kitchen. They might be talking about dinner or Zhao Yunlan, but he doesn’t concern himself with it; his phone is no help. It was returned by Shen Wei, suspiciously blank of photos and numbers, and he’s curious who wiped it. Based on what he’s seen of Shen Wei, it’s not him. The man can manage a stove and that seems to be the extent of his technological prowess. He’d given Zhao Yunlan a blank look when he had waved his phone at him and asked him to confirm his phone number. It’d taken the better part of an hour for Shen Wei to figure out that yes, he already had Zhao Yunlan’s number, and that the screensaver is the picture background on the phone.

Da Qing shuffles out the front door and Shen Wei returns. He looks exhausted but before Zhao Yunlan can ask him about his day, Shen Wei wipes it away and smiles at him with a polite, perfect mask. Zhao Yunlan doesn’t know what to make of him still, and he’s trying to figure out how he got involved with such a man. He’s gorgeous, yeah, but Shen Wei has kept himself as closed off as possible during this ordeal.

“How are you feeling?” Shen Wei asks, seated on the other end of the couch. He’s too far away, even if they were just friends, but Zhao Yunlan doesn’t point it out.

“Been better, been worse,” Zhao Yunlan says. “It’d be great if my head could itself back in order soon. Nothing is coming back from this modern era; it’s all old as balls shit that does me no good.”

Shen Wei smothers a smile but Zhao Yunlan sees it, and he grins. For some reason, that makes Shen Wei’s expression shutter again, and he stands up, brushing nonexistent dust from his pants.

“I’ll start making dinner,” he says and means to leave.

But today, Zhao Yunlan stands up, and trots after him. He perches himself on the table so he can watch Shen Wei. Shen Wei raises an eyebrow at him but doesn’t protest. It isn’t until he’s pulling a set of knives out that he makes a questioning noise.

“If you’re still feeling unwell-”

“Oh no, I’m just fine,” Zhao Yunlan says, swinging his legs. “Okay, well, my head does hurt but that’s pretty normal nowadays. It’s not bad enough to need drugs. If it is, I’ll happily take my medicine, don’t you worry, Professor Shen.”

Shen Wei stares at him for a moment.

“Ah. Okay? That’s...that’s good.” Zhao Yunlan’s grin widens at how stymied Shen Wei is.

They’re quiet for a while as Shen Wei chops up some pork. The sound of his knife slicing through is steady and Zhao Yunlan leans on the counter once Shen Wei has finished.

“So, Professor, how did we meet again? It was on one of the SID’s cases, right?”

“Mn,” Shen Wei says, coating the pork. He thinks for a moment, then adds another dash of white pepper. “You don’t remember.”

“Course I do,” Zhao Yunlan says.

“It’s a good guess,” Shen Wei says, unconvinced.

“I’m not guessing.”

“Alright.” Shen Wei starts cooking the pork and right on cue Zhao Yunlan’s mouth starts watering.

For a while the only sound is of the pork sizzling, filling the air with the scent. Shen Wei throws in the garlic and mushrooms, adding to the delicious aroma. Zhao Yunlan watches, more than ready to eat right now.

He snatches a too hot piece once Shen Wei sets it aside, and Shen Wei can’t help a small laugh as Zhao Yunlan tries to blow on the piece while still attempting to devour it. He’s got some green onions cooking up now and Zhao Yunlan keeps snatching pieces of pork as he watches Shen Wei take out a pack of noodles and cooks them up as well.

Shen Wei is putting the bowls together for them when Zhao Yunlan pipes up, “Do I ever help you in the kitchen?”

“Sometimes,” Shen Wei says. He pauses. “You’re kind of bad at cooking though.”

“I mean, yeah, instant noodles are really a godsend for an incompetent man like me,” Zhao Yunlan says, laughing when Shen Wei politely says nothing. “Did I ever try to cook for you?”

“Hm.” Shen Wei sets the bowls on the table and Zhao Yunlan sits down properly, eager to dig into dinner. He ignores that Shen Wei didn’t really answer his question in favor of slurping up the hot noodles, delighted with the meal.

“You’re a good cook,” Zhao Yunlan compliments.

“Thank you,” Shen Wei says, eyes down as he eats.

“No, really, literally everything you make is delicious.” Zhao Yunlan watches him but Shen Wei refuses to look up at him. “It’s like you know all of my favorites.”

Shen Wei takes refuge in eating. He chews deliberately before swallowing and glancing up at him.

“We have been roommates for a while,” Shen Wei says.

Zhao Yunlan rolls his eyes at him. He figured out by now that he won’t get answers out of Shen Wei but he doesn’t give up on trying.

“I’ve always said that a good marriage partner needs to be able to cook.”

“Oh.” Shen Wei pauses eating, staring at his bowl. But that’s his only reaction.

Zhao Yunlan stabs one of the green onions. He’s chewing, determinedly trying to think of a new avenue of conversation that could stymie Shen Wei into giving him some information. Shen Wei shifts and looks up at him.

“I don’t recall you ever saying that,” he says.

“Hm? I definitely have.” Zhao Yunlan swallows the food in his mouth. “In fact, I know exactly the type of person I’d want to marry. They have to be a good cook because I can’t, and we’d starve ourselves otherwise. I’m weak for a pretty face. And if they have a great ass, well, I’m sold.”

Shen Wei shakes his head once and stands up.

“Ridiculous.”

“What kind of person would you want as a lover, Teacher Shen?” Zhao Yunlan licks his lips. “Oh I know, I bet you’d want someone as your intellectual equal, who can discuss all the lauded topics of literature and history. And you seem like a neck kind of guy.”

“A...neck…?” Shen Wei sets his bowl in the sink but turns around to stare at him in confusion.

“Yeah, you know, when you kiss someone on their neck? It’s a good place to leave hickies.”

Shen Wei doesn’t respond to that for a moment. Zhao Yunlan can see the way he thinks that over. Then Shen Wei huffs a single laugh, shaking his head at him.

“Perhaps,” he says. “There’s more if you want it. I’ll return in a few minutes to clean up otherwise.”

“Alright,” Zhao Yunlan says, already getting up to get a second bowl.

He waits for Shen Wei to leave the kitchen; the good professor has a routine of sitting at his desk each night, writing away at essays and reading books. Zhao Yunlan likes to sit in the same room as him, playing games on his phone or looking through the books on Shen Wei’s shelf. One shelf is dedicated to classic literature but the second shelf is an eclectic mix of subjects, from cookbooks to anatomy studies to human rights. There’s no order to the subjects and it’s all sorted by the authors’ last names.

It’s interesting in a way that Zhao Yunlan can’t put his finger on. But he keeps staring at the collection, searching for an answer that probably means nothing but eludes him all the same.

Zhao Yunlan rubs at his forehead, feeling a headache coming on, and he goes to get another bowl of food while he’s still able to eat without a migraine.

If only Shen Wei would tell him more.

#

There’s a knife in your chest. Your hand is wrapped around it but you don’t have the energy to pull it out.

It hurts like hell. It’s a knife in your fucking chest, of course it hurts, but taking it out won’t help. It’s in too deep.

You’re leaning up against the wall, watching with hazy eyes as your attacker steals your shit. It doesn't really matter since you’re dying. But you wish you could kill him too, to bring him down with you. It’s just a dying wish; when have your wishes ever mattered?

The thief doesn’t even seem to know what he wants. You work as a tanner, but none of your equipment is here. It’s at the shop. That stuff would be worth something. Ah shit, you don’t have all the documentation set up for the shop. You’d planned on leaving it to the two workers you have; good kids but a little dumb. Oh well, it’s someone else’s problem. You’re dying.

Shit, this sucks. Your parents are long dead and there's no one in the house to care. The thief has a scarf over his majority of his face but it could be anyone. The winters are always rough but you didn’t think you would get robbed. You’re not rich.

But having a roof over your head and food in your belly was more than what some people had. You cough, unsurprised that there’s blood in your throat. God, this hurts so much. You wanted to die as an old man, fat and drunk, but even that was too much for the likes of you.

It’s so cold.

There's a presence by your side and you force your head to shift so you can see. The last of your breath is taken from you at how beautiful this man is. Fair skin, long dark hair, but he looks like he’s near tears.

You try to say something to him but it hurts to breathe, let alone to talk, and the man rests a hand on top of yours.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs.

It’s okay, you want to tell him. Don’t cry. You’re too pretty to cry. Tell gege how he can make you feel better.

You’ve never been in love. There have been cute girls, pretty boys, but none of them touched your heart. People have called you cold but what was the point if you couldn’t answer back to a person’s feelings? Maybe you’ve been broken but you think it’s because you never met the right person.

Maybe you just met them too late.

It doesn’t hurt so much to die like this, with a beautiful man by your side, and with the last of your strength, you pat the man’s hand in comfort.

He’s crying. At least someone is sad that you’re dead. Can’t ask for much more than that, eh?

Zhao Yunlan wakes with tears in his eyes and a pain in his chest.

A dream, a nightmare, a memory; he should be getting used to the whirlwind upon waking up as he tries to parse what he just saw in his mind but it’s still discombobulating.

Zhao Yunlan’s eyes are open but it takes him a while to come back to himself. He doesn’t move for a while, trying to parse what he had just seen in his dream. He’s used to dying in these dreams. It makes sense if he’s reincarnated over lifetimes; it’s the only way to get to a new human life. Zhao Yunlan presses a hand to his chest, and though it’s unharmed, he still gives a sigh of relief. It always feels real, like it just happened, and he takes a big breath. It doesn’t hurt, just fills his lungs with air, and Zhao Yunlan appreciates it.

The strangest part is that the man who had appeared by his side at the end had looked just like Shen Wei. His hair had been long, his robes black like he had just stepped out of a xianxia film, but Zhao Yunlan could never mistake that face.

He knows there’s more to Shen Wei than he’s being told. But he doesn’t know what this kind of information actually means.

Zhao Yunlan is struck too, by the image of Shen Wei crying; he’s only seen that placid smile and still expression. He’s never seen him laughing, crying, or emoting. And he knows it’s because of him, because of this memory loss. He plays with the ring on his finger. It fits his hand perfectly, matches with Shen Wei’s, and he hasn’t said anything because if he does, he suspects Shen Wei will remove his. He doesn’t want to see that. Even if Shen Wei won’t answer his questions for fear of fucking his head up worse, it’s a nice reminder for Zhao Yunlan, that he had someone before.

He grabs the glass of water and the painkillers, gratefully popping the pills; Shen Wei is diligent about making sure they’re there every morning for him. Zhao Yunlan hasn’t told him that his nights are stuffed full of past lives and memories but perhaps he knows or suspects.

It’s the weekend so Shen Wei is still here, and Zhao Yunlan can hear him moving around in the next room. Though his head is still fuzzy, he forces himself to get up and move, not patient enough to wait for the drugs to kick in.

To his surprise, Shen Wei meets him at the door, and they nearly collide. Zhao Yunlan stumbles backwards, a sharp spike of pain radiating from his skull but he manages to smother it down.

“What’s up? I just woke up,” Zhao Yunlan says, gesturing to the bed.

“Did you sleep well?” Shen Wei asks, scrutinizing him.

“I’ve had worse dreams,” Zhao Yunlan says. Before Shen Wei can do anything more than begin to frown he says, “Besides, being naked in front of your class during an exam is a pretty standard dream.”

Shen Wei blinks, processes that, then coughs politely. Zhao Yunlan can see him physically ignore that bit of ridiculousness and it’s kind of impressive. It explains how Shen Wei can deal with him on a long term basis.

“Would you like to work in the garden with me? I don’t want to neglect the plants and I didn’t get to tend to them the past few days,” Shen Wei says.

Zhao Yunlan doesn’t know the first thing about plants. Then he shrugs and gets up; if the garden isn’t Shen Wei’s then it has to be his. Shen Wei hasn’t said it outright, he would never, but that’s the feeling he gets.

It’s confirmed when he takes the pair of gloves Shen Wei hands him and they fit perfectly, worn to the grooves of his hands. Zhao Yunlan smiles a little and shakes his head but says nothing. He follows Shen Wei, kneeling beside him and listening to his instructions, losing himself in the work.

It is comforting, instilling peace and calm in a way Zhao Yunlan didn’t think was possible for his chaotic brain. All he has to do is focus on pulling the weeds, helping the drooping plants stand with supports; his garden, full of yummy ingredients that his wife will cook up into delicious food-

His gaze turns fuzzy but no matter how much he blinks, he can’t regain focus. The plants in front of him change from vegetables to herbs and back again. Zhao Yunlan tries to reach out and grab one to force it to stay still; the motion must catch Shen Wei’s attention because he hears someone say something in surprise, and if Zhao Yunlan could think he’d also probably shout at whoever was treating his vegetables so roughly.

Zhao Yunlan tries to turn to Shen Wei, to assure him that he’ll be okay after he gets to sit down, but Shen Wei isn’t there. He sees someone in a black robe, with long hair, and he wants to beg them to turn around. He needs to see their face.

“Yao-xiong,” Zhao Yunlan murmurs. He can see that person but it’s unclear. Turn around, he wants to shout, but his body isn’t responding to him. The only part of him that moves on his command is his hand which grips tighter onto Shen Wei’s shirt. Because he can’t let go of his yao-xiong; if he lets go, he’ll disappear again, and he can’t bear that. This is his little immortal lover, his beauty hidden in the mountains, and he’ll give up all his wandering ways to stay home beside him.

“Yao-xiong,” Zhao Yunlan begs again, not knowing what he’s asking for. He thinks he hears Shen Wei’s breath hitch but he can’t see what’s before him, caught in the maelstrom of those strange memories that can’t belong to him.

“Shen San?”

That’s not his name. But he jerks his head in the direction of the name. He wants to respond to it but his lips are pressed tightly together because that’s not his name. His name is Zhao Yunlan. He is the direction of the SID, the Guardian, he’s not-

Who is he?

The great mountains ranges stretch before him, calling to him, because he’s so much more than any one individual. He knows each rock, each stream, down to each little pebble that’s in this place. Zhao Yunlan stares down at the chasms of the mountains, a piece of him satisfied. Like it’s a part of his body, like a limb that was removed and has now been reattached, but that doesn’t make any sense.

There’s a screaming howl and the mountains vanish, replaced by dark waters, and he doesn’t want it. Zhao Yunlan thrashes against it. He’s losing bits of himself, and he hates the person doing this to him. It’s not right. He’s not supposed to be here. He’s supposed to die and it sucks but that’s the way it’s meant to be.

Zhao Yunlan wakes up screaming profanities at someone he can’t see, can’t remember, can’t name. But that bastard stole something from him, and it hurt to have it ripped away from his very being, to have everything that made him HIM removed, and he hates but he’s destined to forget it and Zhao Yunlan doesn’t want to forget.

He wants to stay whole.

Zhao Yunlan presses the palms of his hands to his eyes, trying to hold back the hot tears that want to fall. He struggles to breathe deeply, because he’s fine, totally fine, completely fine, he has no reason to cry like this.

He forces himself to sit up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. It’s rare that these past memories of his get triggered when he’s awake. Maybe that life of his had been important or more profound. Zhao Yunlan closes his eyes and thinks back to the figure he had seen; he’d never seen the face of the person but they had been very important to him. And in his dazed state he’d blurred the line between that unknown figure and Shen Wei.

But Shen Wei had answered, he’d responded, so he clearly knew something about it. Zhao Yunlan sighs heavily; that’s a dead end, unfortunately. Shen Wei has proven to be tight-lipped in terms of information.

Zhao Yunlan tries to remember the second half. Everything he’d seen should have terrified him but the endless chasms and eternal waters had been comforting, accepted, like he’d reached a state of understanding. But the memory of mountains and rivers slip through his fingers. He makes a noise of disgust and frustration, one hand pressed to his head as it pounds. The ache lessens once the images fade away.

Shen Wei knocks at the door and Zhao Yunlan startles to hear him.

“I came to check on you,” he says with a relieved look. “How are you feeling?”

“Confused,” Zhao Yunlan says. Shen Wei looks too serious as he gives a single nod. Zhao Yunlan shifts so he can sit on the bed and cross his legs. He pats the bed for Shen Wei to join him. Shen Wei hesitates but after Zhao Yunlan taps the bed a little more aggressively, he obeys. “Have you ever been called ‘yao-xiong’ before, Shen Wei?”

“Seems like a strange form of address,” Shen Wei says. Zhao Yunlan gives him an unimpressed look. Shen Wei looks at him then looks down at the bed, expression unhappy.

“You know, I’m not stupid, Teacher Shen-“ Zhao Yunlan starts.

“I know. You’re too clever sometimes. It’s admirable. And it’s to your benefit now. I’d happily sit here for days and explain everything to you. But it’s truly better for your well being to remember it on your own,” Shen Wei says.

Zhao Yunlan blinks and shuts his mouth. He’s stymied for more than a minute but Shen Wei waits.

“Er. Well. Good! I’m glad that’s clear,” Zhao Yunlan says. He clears his throat, the back of his neck a little flushed. “Like I was saying, you aren’t as sneaky as you think you are, and I definitely don’t think you’re all human.”

“Hm,” Shen Wei says. “Then do you believe I am a yao?”

‘No,’ Zhao Yunlan thinks. ‘But that doesn’t mean I know what you are.’

“Perhaps,” he says gravely. “I suspect an incubus too given how you are hanging around me so closely.”

Shen Wei tries and fails to hide a laugh.

“I can assure you that isn’t the case,” Shen Wei says.

“Aha, then you admit you aren’t human?”

Shen Wei only smiles politely.

“I’m sorry,” Shen Wei says.

“What are you even sorry for?” Zhao Yunlan asks. Shen Wei looks at him with big, wide eyes that betray nothing. Zhao Yunlan flips him off and sighs. “Yeah, I know. You can’t say anything. Or rather you won’t say anything. And I know it’s because you care and you don’t want to fuck me up permanently. But this is getting real old.”

“I’m sorry,” Shen Wei repeats.

Zhao Yunlan looks at him again. It’s one of his favorite things to do, to watch Shen Wei, and it’s not just because the professor is a treat to look at. Those beautiful dark eyes against his milky white skin framed by the spectacles that make him look just as intelligent as he actually is, the hint of muscles beneath the long sleeves he hides under; Zhao Yunlan still can’t believe he bagged himself such a beauty. But as time goes on he’s beginning to suspect at Shen Wei’s darker side, and he’s starting to understand that Shen Wei is anything but a simple professor of literature.

Zhao Yunlan sits up and leans over to Shen Wei, aware that Shen Wei is tracking his every movement.

“What do you see when you look at me?” Zhao Yunlan asks. “Who do you see?”

Shen Wei smiles and Zhao Yunlan draws back a little.

“You are Zhao Yunlan,” Shen Wei says, like it’s the easiest answer in the world.

Zhao Yunlan throws his head back with a laugh. Ah, he really should have seen that one coming.

“That’s good, that’s good,” he says. “Stupid question. I know better.”

Shen Wei pats his knee.

“If there’s anything you need-“

“Tell me about this ring.”

Shen Wei looks at Zhao Yunlan’s hand. He’s shoved it into Shen Wei’s face, demanding the answer.

“It was expensive,” Shen Wei says blandly.

“Who bought it?”

Shen Wei looks at him for a long moment and then stands up. He rests his hand behind his back to keep his own ring out of sight. It’s not subtle. But it doesn’t need to be. Shen Wei won’t explain a thing about this and he won’t be moved.

“I’ll be finishing up in the garden if you need me,” Shen Wei says gently. “Please don’t overtax yourself. You’re in a fragile state right now.”

“Overtax, my ass,” Zhao Yunlan grumbles. He flops back down onto the bed and glares at Shen Wei. “These are obviously wedding rings. You have one that matches mine. Yet you won’t say anything to this husband of yours?”

“The difference between knowing and deducing is crucial to your recovery,” Shen Wei says in a calm, even tone. Zhao Yunlan narrows his eyes at him, wondering how much of that is an act. He can’t tell, unfortunately. That skill has been locked away with his memory.

“Taking it a kiss is out of the question,” Zhao Yunlan says. Shen Wei smiles in confirmation. “You know, I’m a really good kisser. And maybe it’ll help me remember something.”

“No,” Shen Wei says.

He leaves without waiting for Zhao Yunlan to sprout anymore bullshit. Zhao Yunlan doesn’t chase after him. He raises his hand and looks at his ring, hoping that he’s the one that bought it. But he doesn’t know enough about Professor Shen to judge if he’s the type of guy that would beat him to an engagement.

He presses his hand to his chest and aches to remember. There has to be a way to speed this up. It doesn’t make sense why his memories are so completely scrambled. There’s more to this story than he’s being told.

#

Dying on the battlefield for the emperor doesn’t make it hurt any less. You lie on the ground, another casualty, mixed between the two armies. Rebel and loyalists both look alike here. The sounds of swords clashing, of your brothers in arms fighting and dying, are fading away. It’s not your ideal ending but it’s honorable. Your parents can take comfort in that.

Shame you never got married. The girl your parents kept pushing you to get engaged to was nice, but she didn’t move your heart. And you know you had the potential to love but you were looking for something else. Someone else.

You groan as the wound on your chest bubbles with your breath. The slash went deep and if you could lift your head, you’d probably be able to see your own ribs. Best not to look, it’s not like seeing will change anything, and at least like this you can enjoy the clouds rolling by.

You can pretend for your last few moments that you’re back at home, stretched out on the hillside in the sweet spring grass rather than laying amongst the stench of blood and death. Tending to the chickens is your least favorite part of your father’s farm but hanging out with the sheep is much nicer. They’re content to graze around you and when the lambs come, they jump over you or snuggle up to you.

Someone is stepping past the bodies and sits beside you. A cold hand slips into yours, and you jerk in surprise. It’s hard to move and you use the last bit of strength to look up into the person’s face.

He’s young, and though he’s dressed in black, his jade white skin is out of place in the brown muck of the battlefield. A god of death, coming to take you away. You want to smile but you have no strength left. Instead you die with the sight of this beautiful god. You have no choice, no proof, but somehow you know you’re safe in his hands.

#

Zhao Yunlan wakes up to the taste of death and he lurches out of bed, needing to vomit. To his surprise, Shen Wei is there, and he has to push him out of the way. Shen Wei doesn’t protest, only shoves the bathroom door open for him so that Zhao Yunlan can puke into the toilet. He just makes it, heaving and gagging until he’s emptied his stomach out. Zhao Yunlan presses a hand to his chest, relieved that his skin is unblemished, but he can still feel how empty and open it had been.

Shen Wei stands at the doorway. Zhao Yunlan sighs and leans his face on the seat, uncaring of how gross it is when he’s just upchucked his whole stomach.

“I’m tired of dying in these memories,” Zhao Yunlan says, wiping away the bile in his mouth. “It hurts every time.”

Shen Wei looks at him with a wounded expression.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

Zhao Yunlan rolls his eyes.

“Get me a drink of water, yeah? Stop looking like that. It’s not like you can do anything about it.” Shen Wei obeys, taking off in a flash and returning equally fast. Zhao Yunlan chugs the whole glass before wiping at his mouth. “What were you doing in my room anyway? Creep.”

“I heard you,” Shen Wei says. “I wanted to be sure you weren’t in pain.”

Zhao Yunlan scoffs but it’s a weak, muted sound. He can still remember the hot slice of the blade slicing him open, his armor useless against the metal, and he clamps his lips shut to keep from vomiting again. The only thing in his belly is the water he just drank.

“Thanks,” he murmurs. “I don’t think I’m up for breakfast right now.”

“It’s still night,” Shen Wei says gently.

“Oh,” Zhao Yunlan says. He grimaces, unsure if he wants to go back to sleep.

But Shen Wei is hovering at the door, and he probably won’t leave until Zhao Yunlan is back in bed. He heaves himself up and washes his mouth out. He sits down on his bed to Shen Wei’s approval. Before Shen Wei can leave, Zhao Yunlan grabs the hem of Shen Wei’s shirt.

“Stay?” he asks quietly, certain he’s going to be rejected. Sure enough, Shen Wei hesitates, but Zhao Yunlan tugs on his shirt one more time before dropping his grasp. “It’s fine. I didn’t think you would. Don’t worry about me. I’ll-”

“Alright,” Shen Wei says quietly.

Zhao Yunlan blinks but he doesn’t say anything else, not wanting to ruin this. He scoots over and lets Shen Wei slip into bed, watching him the whole time. This must be hard on him too. He can’t really do much but wait for Zhao Yunlan to recall their shared past.

Shen Wei keeps to the edge of the bed, as far away from Zhao Yunlan as he can be. He’s facing away from him, as if that could stop the awkward air between them. Zhao Yunlan huffs and shimmies over, pressing himself against Shen Wei’s back and wrapping an arm around his waist, pushing down the ache in his chest as Shen Wei flinches at his touch.

“Is this okay?” Zhao Yunlan taps his fingers against his waist.

Shen Wei inhales. Then he nods.

“You know, this bed is a good size for the two of us,” Zhao Yunlan murmurs.

Shen Wei doesn’t say anything to that. He makes a strange noise, like a huff of laughter, but it’s too low for Zhao Yunlan to catch the nuance. Zhao Yunlan finds himself slipping into sleep, and before he can sprout off more nonsense, he’s out.

Zhao Yunlan wakes up briefly at some point. It’s too dark to see but he can feel how they’ve shifted positions. Shen Wei’s chest is to his back and something in Zhao Yunlan laughs at that, because he’s not surprised. He slips back to sleep, dreamless for once, and even though he wakes up to an empty bed, he feels refreshed rather than drained.

The good feeling lasts the whole day until Shen Wei returns from work, face carefully blank in a way that Zhao Yunlan is starting to recognize. He’s debating whether to ask and try to pull it out of Shen Wei when a knock comes at the door. Shen Wei glares at it for a moment before returning to that polite mask and goes to let a crow yao in.

The crow that comes to check up on him is worse than useless. She examines Zhao Yunlan and claims that his recovery is coming along nicely. Zhao Yunlan calls her ugly ass out but his insult goes over her head. And Shen Wei, who for the first time is visibly scowling, barely does more than cough in Zhao Yunlan’s direction.

“I don’t like them,” Zhao Yunlan says, crossing his arms. He’s tempted to find some salt and toss it after the crow.

“It was an accident,” Shen Wei says, forcing a placid tone. The edges of it are frayed but his attempt is better than Zhao Yunlan’s. “And they did as they promised.”

“Useless,” Zhao Yunlan says. “What did she say to you after?”

“Nothing new,” Shen Wei says. “She reminded me that it’s best to let your memories return on their own with no outside interference.”

Zhao Yunlan squints at him before deciding that Shen Wei is telling the truth. Or at least, as much as he can tell him without jeopardizing his recovery. The crow didn’t seem helpful at all so he’s not surprised. Zhao Yunlan stretches and asks what’s for dinner before trotting over to watch some television. There’s a mess of paper and pens on the floor where Zhao Yunlan and Shen Wei have been writing down the stories of Zhao Yunlan’s past lives. Zhao Yunlan scratches them out with his shitty handwriting and Shen Wei redoes them with his elegant calligraphy. It helps to see them in print sometimes, like Zhao Yunlan hasn’t been completely mad, and he’s not just making everything up. But the stacks of paper grow and there seems to be no end in sight to the number of times he’s died.

He’s sorting through the last three they made when Da Qing climbs in through the window. Zhao Yunlan watches in amusement as Da Qing scrambles to get his hefty belly over the frame. He doesn’t say anything until Da Qing is in the room, about to step on all their hard work.

“Where you been hiding?” Zhao Yunlan asks, nudging Da Qing with his foot.

“Don’t touch me with that thing,” Da Qing snarls and swipes at him. Zhao Yunlan is wearing thick socks so he doesn’t feel it and smirks at Da Qing to let him know exactly how ineffective the strike was. “If you must know I was at the SID. There’s still cases that need to be handled and since I’m apparently second in command and you’re out of commission, I’m stuck with all this work. Lao Zhao, you didn’t tell me you actually did work.”

“That sounds like you’re calling me lazy,” Zhao Yunlan says. “Hey, Shen Wei, can we ban this fatty from our house? Insolent cats don’t get canned food.”

“Fuck your kibble,” Da Qing says as Shen Wei chuckles without actually answering. He looks over the mess and blinks at it. “What’s all this?”

“Organization,” Zhao Yunlan says.

Da Qing makes a sound and paws at the most recent dream, reading through it with a strange look on his face. Zhao Yunlan watches him, waiting for his reaction. Da Qing had been there to watch him die; it was a peaceful death, all things considered. He’d died an old man, in his bed, with his wife and cat beside him. He’d been sick for days, delirious with fever and hacking his lungs up, until it had finally killed him.

“Do you have to write these all down? It’s kind of morbid,” Da Qing finally says.

“Well,” Zhao Yunlan says. “It’s a lot. Can’t quite remember them all. They’ve been getting mixed up lately and then I get dizzy and puke and sometimes I hit myself on the door when I fall down.”

Da Qing doesn’t say anything. He starts reading through all the records, his expression turning more and more pained the more he looks through. Zhao Yunlan leaves him to it, unbothered. It’s not anything he can change at this point. He lived, he died, he lived again, repeat ad nauseam. It’s only now when he’s confronted with all of these lives that it’s affecting him.

Shen Wei calls them both over for dinner, though Zhao Yunlan complains that Da Qing is getting the same freshly cooked chicken as him. Da Qing doesn’t look at him with a smug expression, quietly thanking Shen Wei for the meal and keeps his head down as he eats.

“You know, if you’re that busy, I can go back to work,” Zhao Yunlan says once he’s done eating but before Da Qing can slink off. Da Qing and Shen Wei stare at him. “What? Why can’t I go to work?”

Shen Wei clears his throat.

“It could be a trigger for a deluge of memories and we’d rather they return at a steadier pace,” Shen Wei says.

“Also there’s a lot of idiots there who will say the wrong thing,” Da Qing says, in between licking his paws. “They mean well but they’re mostly kids.”

Zhao Yunlan says ‘oh’ and leaves it at that. He is vaguely aware that he’s in charge, that his title is Guardian, but the rest is scrambled. There was another lifetime where he was also a Guardian. He’d died when a hell beast had ripped off his limb. Zhao Yunlan had woken up screaming, clutching at his leg, though even feeling it hadn’t abated the sensation of blood spraying out.

If Da Qing and Shen Wei are in agreement that he shouldn’t go then it’s probably better for Zhao Yunlan to avoid work for a while more. But he’s tired of waiting for his memories to return. It’s happening so slowly. The lure of having them return sooner outweighs the risk for Zhao Yunlan though he makes no mention of that fact to Da Qing and Shen Wei, who will definitely try to stop him.

Luckily Da Qing is busy as the acting guardian and Shen Wei continues teaching at the university. Zhao Yunlan gets up the next day with the intent of going to the SID and there’s nothing to thwart him.

“Do you have plans for the day?” Shen Wei asks during breakfast. Zhao Yunlan blinks at him, irritated that he’s letting his excitement show, but he hides that as best he can at this point.

“Last night wasn’t so bad,” Zhao Yunlan says. “It was a nice, boring life with a relatively easy death. I got to die in bed as an old drunk.”

Shen Wei shakes his head lightly at him but says nothing more, reminding him that he’s got his phone on in case of emergencies like he does every morning and takes off.

Zhao Yunlan watches him leave, noting that he pauses for a moment still, like he’s trained to wait for something more. He rather suspects that’s his own doing, insisting on one more hug or kiss before they part for the day; he’s never been a sticky lover but if he’s married to someone, then obviously that marvelous person must inspire those sort of saccharine thoughts in him. But until he remembers on his own, Shen Wei won’t act like the husband that he is, and Zhao Yunlan finds himself irritated all over again. It strengthens his resolve to go to the SID.

Zhao Yunlan plugs the directions into his phone, swiped from an envelope he had to sneak out from under Shen Wei’s sight. Thankfully he hasn’t forgotten how to ride his bike even though Shen Wei had been practically hyperventilating the first time he’d hopped back on.

He hesitates for a moment in front of the building before striding in, confidence masking all of his uncertainties. There’s a ghost at the front who greets him.

“Oh, Lao Zhao,” the ghost says, smiling widely at him with a ghastly grin. “Are you feeling better?”

“Loads,” he says cheerfully, lying like the bastard that he is. “But I’m not up to work speed yet; just came by to sign some documents.”

The ghost gives no sign of suspicion, just waves him in and tells him to take it easy, that his health is the most important thing. Zhao Yunlan nods, amused as always when ghosts tell him to watch out for his health, but says nothing more.

He’s barely ten steps inside when a snake yao approaches him. Zhao Yunlan tries to remember her name, recognizing her face from seeing her at the hospital, but he’s coming up blank. She’s pretty, in a cold way which makes sense since she’s a snake, but she’s also deliberately in his way.

“You aren’t supposed to be here,” the snake says. Her eyes are wide in her concern and Zhao Yunlan would be touched if she wasn’t blocking his way.

“Shen Wei told me to come here. He said there was something I needed to sign,” Zhao Yunlan lies.

She narrows her eyes, sniffing out his lie, and Zhao Yunlan pushes past her. He doesn’t know where he’s going but if people are trying to stop him, then logically, this is definitely some place he should be. He lets his feet carry him to an office space, and he stops at the door of it; it’s apart from all the other desks and the plaque on the door confirms it’s his.

Zhao Yunlan goes to the desk and there, proudly and markedly, is a picture of himself and Shen Wei. He can’t help a smile, partly out of vindication and partly out of the sheer joy the him in the photo radiates. It’s a wedding photo, and he’s all smiles beside the other groom. Shen Wei looks gorgeous, his expression equally brilliant. Zhao Yunlan sets the frame back down gently, aching to remember what he’s figured out. He’d always assumed he’d get married to a woman and pop out a child, to perform the standard happy life his mom and dad wanted for him. He wants to remember how he found this life with Shen Wei, how he managed to convince him to marry, to tell the world that he had found his partner for life.

“Oh, Chief Zhao, you’re back! Are you feeling better? When did you-?” A young man appears at the door behind the snake.

“Shut up. He’s not better. He’s not supposed to be here. I already called Da Qing but Teacher Shen is in class and I don’t want to interrupt him. I think this bastard is lying but I don’t know what his real intentions are.”

“You’re mean,” Zhao Yunlan says. “I’m doing fine. I had to come sign something.”

“Da Qing would take anything that had to be signed by you. He has the authority temporarily as acting Guardian,” she says.

Zhao Yunlan doesn’t say anything for a moment. Snakey-girl definitely knows him and his tricks.

“Smart girl. Are you going to haul me out kicking and screaming? You think Teacher Shen would allow that?” Zhao Yunlan goes to sit down, lounging back in the chair. Oh this is definitely his, it supports his back so nicely when he does this. He pauses for a moment then kicks his feet up on the desk and grins at the two stupefied workers. “Okay, sure, I’ll bite. I’m not supposed to be here. You said you already told Da Qing? That fat cat can’t make me leave either. I can pick him up and toss him out on his ass. But if you two help me out, I’ll leave quietly, and you can tell Da Qing that I left without coming in.”

“Bastard,” the snake says, gritting her teeth.

“What do you need help with?” the boy says, eyeing the snake warily but addressing Zhao Yunlan with even more trepidation.

“I need anything that could jog my memory back,” Zhao Yunlan says, steepling his fingers together. “There’s lots of magical crap here, right? Surely there’s something that can hurry this bullshit up.”

“That’s not how it works. That’s not how anything works.”

Zhao Yunlan exaggerates a yawn, ignoring how the snake yao’s expressions scrunches into a new level of ‘pissed off’. “You should all wear name tags,” Zhao Yunlan says and the snake pauses. “It would make it easier to keep track of you all.”

“Eh? Chief Zhao, does this mean...I thought you remembered our names?” the boy says, expression stricken. The snake’s expression is more so until she wipes it away forcefully.

“This is why you shouldn’t be here! If you can’t even remember the names of your co-workers then how do you expect to get anything done?”

He feels a little bad at their dismay. But that’s why he’s here, so he can fix this, and get back to his normal life. Zhao Yunlan tilts his head and glances around, hearing a third indistinct whisper of a voice, but he can’t make it out.

“Are you going to help me or not?” Zhao Yunlan drops his feet on the ground. He sits up straight, looking at them both. “Or are you just stalling for time till Da Qing arrives?”

“We’ll help,” the snake says after gritting her teeth for a moment. “But only because I’m tired of that cat ordering us around. And because it’ll get you to leave quicker.”

“Are you sure I hired you? You seem like a brat,” Zhao Yunlan says as he gets up and starts to follow the whispers.

The snake ignores him and orders the boy around. This xiao-Guo scurries off, nearly tripping over his own feet, but very obedient. Then she pauses to scrutinize Zhao Yunlan. “Can you see the library?”

“Hm? Yeah?” He says, gesturing to it, saying nothing about how the voice is stronger the closer he gets to it. Now that she points it out he can tell it’s not available to everyone. He gives her another look, wondering at her level of cultivation and age;

“You could maybe find something in there,” she says slowly then grimaces. “But I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“How old are you?” Zhao Yunlan asks as he sticks a hand through the opening, nodding in approval that he’s capable of entering. Her eye twitches. “Eh, you can’t be that old. Are you a baby? What is your cultivation like that you can’t go in?”

“Just go,” she says.

Zhao Yunlan barely holds back a cackle, thinking that he really should stop antagonizing her, but it’s familiar and fun. Anything that’s familiar is something he wants to lean into. But he still can’t remember her name so he steps into the library, wrinkling his nose at all the ghostly energy here. It isn’t malicious though so he ignores the niggling thought and appreciates how everything is easily and intuitively organized.

Zhao Yunlan stares at the neatly labelled bookcases, unable to push the idea of Shen Wei's bookshelves back at their house. He forcefully shakes his head and smacks his cheeks to get himself to focus. A library wasn't quite what he had in mind; he wasn't looking to study here. He was hoping he could just see something and have everything come back but of course it's never that easy.

The whispers are loudest here but also scattered, and Zhao Yunlan tries to follow one only to lose track as another grows stronger. He ends up making himself dizzy, sadly well used to the feeling as of late, and he rests against the bookshelf. It sounds familiar, like it’s leading him to something that can help, and Zhao Yunlan will take just about any offer of assistance right now. He presses a hand to his head, trying to keep it from throbbing and exploding. Memories of past lives slip in and overimpose the sight before him.

“Fuck off,” Zhao Yunlan mutters, mouth dry as he struggles to hold onto this timeline. This was a bad idea, he shouldn’t have come, but he’s not going to tell Da Qing or Shen Wei that. Instead he turns around and grabs a handful of books before he tears out of the library.

The kids shout as he barrels out and nearly runs into them. It isn’t until he hits the corner of a table that Zhao Yunlan stops running, clutching onto the books he’s grabbed like a lifeline. He squeezes his eyes shut as the daylight burns him and adds to his dizziness. Someone is talking to him, but he can’t even tell which of the kids is speaking, it’s so far away. Zhao Yunlan shakes his head at them and wrenches his eyes open, eyes focusing on the covers of the book. He grabbed from the section about Nuwa but when he opens the books, they’re all blank. Zhao Yunlan tosses them onto the ground and snarls at them for being so useless.

The sound makes the boy step back in fear and the snake starts speaking, irate, and it’s too loud.

“Shut up! Shut up, all of you! I can’t….can’t hear….the mountains…”

“The mountains?” Someone says but Zhao Yunlan pushes them away so he can lean up against the wall. The room is too small, the walls are pressing in, and he needs to be out of here. He needs...he doesn’t know what he needs. Something bigger, wider, more open; the image that spears itself across the black of his unseeing eyes is too bright for him to see. But he can sense the chasm at his feet and it isn’t terrifying. He knows this danger and he knows how to stand on the edge without falling.

Zhao Yunlan wipes at his mouth, thankful that he’s not tasting blood or vomit. The kids are looking at him with profound concern but Zhao Yunlan ignores that. He only needs one creature right now.

“Where’s my cat?” Zhao Yunlan asks.

“Da Qing? What-?”

“I need answers from him,” Zhao Yunlan says. He can remember him as a kitten, the tiny furry body being placed into his arms by Nuwa herself, and while he can recollect him from this lifetime, he wants to see him again.

Da Qing shows up within the half hour, ready to spit and yell when he sees Zhao Yunlan and stops in place. He hurries over and jumps onto the desk, hesitating to speak. Zhao Yunlan gives him a chance and then strikes.

“How did I become a human?” Zhao Yunlan asks. He can’t hide the fury in his voice. Kunlun had been a god. He’d been meant to die like his brethren. So how did he wind up like this?

Da Qing fails to hide a shiver.

“Yunlan- er, Kunlun-jun? I-”

He doesn’t know how to answer that. For a moment he stretches his hand, feeling the muscles and sinews clench and release. He’s not completely Zhao Yunlan. But he’s not totally Kunlun either. All of the past lives he’s remembered flit in, echoes of them in his soul, but the puzzle isn’t complete and so he is unfinished.

It hurts as much as it irritates him.

“Answer me, Da Qing,” Zhao Yunlan says icily.

Da Qing swallows.

“It’s a long story?” he offers and that’s probably true.

“Then start at the beginning,” Zhao Yunlan says. “And get to the important parts quick.”

Da Qing obeys. Really, Zhao Yunlan shouldn’t be surprised that the crow yao have something to do with this. They’ve always been shits. Zhao Yunlan nods once Da Qing finishes explaining that his memory is the issue before glancing around again. He’d seen humanity march on and his incarnation was at ease here; but it’s a leap from the world he’d known and foresight had never been his strong suit.

He’s mulling over his current state when Da Qing’s ears flicker and they both turn to look at the door. Da Qing stands up to greet the incoming person when Zhao Yunlan shoots his hand out to keep him in place.

“What the hell is this?” Zhao Yunlan demands, unable to help the words. What stands before him is an abomination, half ghost and half god, and it shouldn’t exist. He knows, logically, that the man is named Shen Wei, that they’re married, that Shen Wei cares for him. But that doesn’t explain his existence.

Shen Wei freezes, eyes going wide. Then he swallows back his surprise.

“How much of Kunlun do you remember?” he asks. But his voice isn’t steady. Some of his words come out stilted despite the visible effort he’s exerting to appear calm.

Zhao Yunlan doesn’t answer right away. Part of it is that he’s still in shock at the truth of what Shen Wei is and the other part is not sure how to honestly answer the question.

“Some,” he settles on. “I remember some.”

Shen Wei makes a soft ‘oh’ and then nods.

“I have to return to the university,” Shen Wei says quietly. “Da Qing, can you take...Zhao Yunlan home?”

Da Qing nods and opens his mouth to say something more but before he can Shen Wei has turned and left, all but fleeing, as though melting back into shadows. Zhao Yunlan watches with narrowed eyes; Da Qing seems to trust this ghost king god and he’s very curious about this state of events.

His head hurts but it isn't like before; he can push it away and focus on his current lifetime rather than being swept away by a past life. Zhao Yunlan returns home and settles himself on the couch to meditate, but Da Qing doesn't make any sign of leaving.

"Don't you have to go do my job?" Zhao Yunlan asks.

"Watching out for you is my job," Da Qing says. He's curled up next to Zhao Yunlan, tail twitching as he pretends to nap. "You ran Shen Wei off so someone has to be here with you in case you try to fall down the stairs again."

Zhao Yunlan grimaces. He settles a hand in Da Qing's fur.

"I...he's really part ghost?"

"Does it matter?"

Zhao Yunlan doesn't answer for a moment then shrugs.

"I don't know. I don't know much of anything right now. But the last time I remember seeing a ghost it was ripping humans apart to devour. Seeing one so elevated is...disconcerting."

Da Qing sighs and says nothing more. Zhao Yunlan closes his eyes to meditate, easily sorting through the current memories he possesses as he searches out more. He's keen to find the rest of his Kunlun memories and they're the easiest to find, burning bright like flickering embers. But they're buried amongst hundreds of other memories and Zhao Yunlan wants to remember everything. He wants to know why Shen Wei is part ghost, part god, why they live together, why they are married. Da Qing doesn't fear Shen Wei. And he wants to know why his cat supports such a thing.

“So many lifetimes,” Zhao Yunlan murmurs. He closes his eyes again; he’s found memories of being a sailor, of being a rebel, a loyalist, a farmer, a rich lord, a peasant. He’s walked so many different paths and he’s still sorting more memories and lifetimes out. It’s not a surprise his human self had been overwhelmed. Regaining part of his godly memories is taxing enough on its own. And he’s growing tired from sorting through all these memories.

"Come on, let's get you to bed," Da Qing says, nudging at his side with his head. "Pushing yourself too far will only harm you."

“I don’t understand that thing,” Zhao Yunlan says. He rubs his temple for a moment. The memory of the ghost king in his life still eludes him.

Da Qing looks at him with a strangely wounded expression. Zhao Yunlan tries not to think about it too closely. He doesn’t like that expression on his cat.

“You'll remember soon,” Da Qing says. “We weren’t sure what was going to happen once you regained your memories of being Kunlun but I suppose we should have expected that regaining your godly memories would increase your mental abilities.”

“Shut up and help me meditate more,” Zhao Yunlan says. He’s still not good at meditating, never has been, but he can at least manage to do it for a few hours. It seems like his human counterparts don’t have that ability. The irritation grows; why would he cast off his godly form for the sake of this limited human one? It doesn’t sound like a decision he would ever make.

Dying isn’t fun, of course, but if this was part of his attempt to avoid it he failed miserably. He’s recalling countless deaths, some painless but most are agonizing, and even though he’s regained part of his godly memories that doesn’t lessen the ache.

“You should rest,” Da Qing says.

“Not yet,” Zhao Yunlan murmurs. “I want to find the other piece of my Kunlun memories. It’ll be easier once I regain them.”

Da Qing looks at him for a long while then sighs.

“Alright,” he says. “One more hour.”

Zhao Yunlan nods, and reaches over to pet his cat’s head. Da Qing glares at him for a moment as he flattens his ears.

“When did you become such a good kitten?” Zhao Yunlan asks.

“I was always a good cat,” Da Qing says. “Even though I had a shitty owner.”

“Brat,” Zhao Yunlan says, flicking at his ear.

Zhao Yunlan sinks back into a meditative state. He lets Da Qing's meow after presumably an hour nudge him back into bed. His sleep isn't restful but he's able to keep the memories at bay, and he spends the next day alone in the house as he alternates between meditating and wakefulness. He's combed through the house before for clues but Shen Wei had done a good job clearing the place out so he doesn't bother to try again.

He's not completely alone though. Sometimes he can sense a presence watching him but he doesn't call him out on it. His initial reaction to Shen Wei had been less than warm so he's not surprised that the ghost king is keeping his distance.

Zhao Yunlan fiddles with his ring. The house is too empty. The moment Da Qing returns, Zhao Yunlan all but pounces on him.

“Where did Shen Wei go?” Zhao Yunlan asks.

“I don’t know,” Da Qing says. He sits on the back of the sofa. “Why?”

“I need to apologize to him,” Zhao Yunlan says.

“Do you remember him now?” Zhao Yunlan nods and Da Qing sighs in relief. “Oh good. Er, how much do you remember?"

"He was the ghost king I raised up," Zhao Yunlan says. He hesitates. "I only remember him as Wei. I don't know this Shen Wei yet. But he still deserves to hear this much, yeah?"

"Yeah," Da Qing agrees. He pats Zhao Yunlan's hand. "I'll go find where he's hidden himself away. It might take a while though. He's not fond of modern technology so I doubt he'll answer his phone even if you are the one calling him.

"Drag him out," Zhao Yunlan says. "Use whatever means you have to. I don't want him spending another hour in whatever abyss he's holed himself up in."

Da Qing's whiskers twitch but he doesn't say anything. He nods and clambers off the couch, landing with an inelegant thud but Zhao Yunlan doesn't take the chance to make fun of him. He turns the tv back on, needing some sort of distraction.

It takes Da Qing a few hours but he manages to find Shen Wei. His face is smug and his tail is high in the air but Zhao Yunlan doesn't bother to scold him. He doubts it was an easy task. Da Qing tells him he'll be waiting in the kitchen to get fed the good pork and trots off, leaving the two of them alone in the living room.

Zhao Yunlan looks at Shen Wei, who is staring at the floor, waiting for judgement. It's almost funny, to see him so meek.

Zhao Yunlan doesn’t know what to call him. He’s not just the little ghost king who had trotted after him. But he doesn’t know who Shen Wei is. The last time he saw him, Shen Wei had attacked him, and scraped out everything that made him a god so he could force him into the Wheel of Reincarnation. Zhao Yunlan can still remember the agony and focus on Shen Wei's face as he'd ripped him apart, all for the sake of keeping him alive.

He could hate him for it. But the little ghost king who had sobbed when he'd learned that his favorite person was doomed to die despite being a god is a stronger image.

“Sorry,” he says, a little awkwardly as he scratches his cheek. “I didn’t mean...to kick you out of your home.”

Shen Wei’s expression opens up a little more as he glances at him.

“You were uncomfortable,” he says slowly, picking each word out and gauging his reaction after each syllable. “It was better to give you the time you needed.”

Zhao Yunlan makes a noise of disagreement. "Come on, yell at me or something. I was a dick."

"No." Shen Wei shakes his head. "It's overwhelming. I understand."

Zhao Yunlan sighs but he senses a wall here that he doesn't have the knowledge to scale yet.

"Come on," Zhao Yunlan says, taking his hand and tugging on it. "I'm tired. That fat cat took too long to find you. Where did you end up hiding?"

"Nowhere in particular," Shen Wei says. He hesitates as Zhao Yunlan pulls him along. "Zhao Yunlan, I don't think-"

"I want to sleep and I want you right there," Zhao Yunlan says firmly. "I was an ass. You let me drive you away. This is how I'm going to start making it up."

Shen Wei's shoulders shake once with a silent laugh.

"I don't think that's how it works," he says but he stops even the slightest form of fighting and that's all Zhao Yunlan wants right now.

Zhao Yunlan shamelessly pulls Shen Wei into bed and curls up against him, petting his head, hair, and face. Shen Wei as a little ghost king had been adorable. But this Shen Wei is a thousand times more beautiful, experience etched into the lines of his face.

“I thought I’d never see you grow up,” Zhao Yunlan murmurs. He chuckles as he brushes Shen Wei’s hair behind his ear. “You really did grow up into a great beauty.”

“Stop that,” Shen Wei says, blushing. He catches his hands and holds them for a moment before dropping them. "You said you were tired. So rest."

Zhao Yunlan makes a noncommittal noise and grabs Shen Wei's hands again. He presses their hands together and points out their matching rings.

“Who proposed first?” Zhao Yunlan asks. Shen Wei smiles and Zhao Yunlan scowls at him. “Answer my question, damn you.”

“It isn’t good for me to tell you things,” Shen Wei says primly.

“Should have drowned you in that river,” Zhao Yunlan says and Shen Wei smiles wider.

"Go to sleep," Shen Wei asks softly.

He doesn’t remember everything about Zhao Yunlan yet. But he remembers his little ghost king who adores him so. Zhao Yunlan obeys, taking shameless advantage to curl up against Shen Wei and burrowing his face against his shoulder.

#

Zhao Yunlan wakes a few days later, feeling whole for the first time in months. With his memories of Kunlun restored, it was a much simpler matter to sort through the tangled mess of his past lifetimes. He'd spent yesterday afternoon teasing, poking, and prodding at Shen Wei about his lifetime as Shen San. It was the only way to express how giddy he was that Shen Wei kept the surname all these years.

Zhao Yunlan props himself up to see Shen Wei next to him, reading a book, and he glances at the cover only to see that it has no title.

"What 'cha reading?" Zhao Yunlan asks.

"I'm not sure," Shen Wei says, smiling at him in morning greeting. He taps on the book's cover. "One of your staff found it and I offered to look through it. I dispelled the curse on it but I haven't figured out how to decipher the text."

"Nerd," Zhao Yunlan says.

Then he slides off the bed and onto his knees. Shen Wei doesn’t say anything but he sits up a little straighter and a light comes into his eyes.

“I wanted things to be perfect the first time,” Zhao Yunlan says, a little self conscious all over again. “I wanted it to be the perfect proposal for you.”

“I never needed perfect,” Shen Wei murmurs, setting the book aside. He offers his hand to Zhao Yunlan who takes it like the blessing it is.

"I know," Zhao Yunlan says. "I know."

They're quiet for a moment as they remember the fiasco of Zhao Yunlan's proposal. He'd meant to take Shen Wei out to a fancy restaurant, to make it into a spectacle that would embarrass him forever. Instead he'd blurted it out after a case, the two of them bloody from their injuries, and while Shen Wei hadn't been unconscious he'd been close to it.

"I meant it then and I mean it now. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. You aren't allowed to leave me." Zhao Yunlan swallows something. "And I'm not going to leave you. I'm sorry I broke that promise. I was here but I wasn't really here. And I hurt you."

Shen Wei hauls him up and crushes him in a hug. He shakes his head and says nothing, but Zhao Yunlan can feel the way he trembles.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Zhao Yunlan says as he brushes away Shen Wei’s tears. He keeps repeating the empty apology before Shen Wei can tell him that it isn’t needed. And it wasn’t his fault, Zhao Yunlan isn’t fool enough to say that, but he hurt Shen Wei. And he can’t forgive himself yet for that.

Shen Wei seems to understand that on some level because though he squirms slightly, he doesn’t stop Zhao Yunlan. He lets Zhao Yunlan dote on him for a few more minutes until his tears dry up.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Shen Wei finally says as he pulls away.

“Did you cry?” Zhao Yunlan asks. Shen Wei makes a questioning noise. “When I called you an abomination? You left your home. I bought this place for you; you weren’t supposed to leave it. Shen Wei, I could kick myself for that. You let me be an idiot.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Shen Wei repeats, a little more firmly. “You...didn’t remember. You spoke only as your godly form had.”

“Did it hurt?” Zhao Yunlan doesn’t need to hear an answer when he already knows it. “I’ll make it up to you, baobei. Whatever, however long it takes, until you know that I mean it. You’re perfect. You’re everything I want.”

Shen Wei kisses him.

“Stay with me forever,” he demands.

“Such a tall order,” Zhao Yunlan says, soppy sweet with adoration. “I'll be sure to remember it."