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canary3d-obsessed · 4 years ago

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Restless Rewatch: Nirvana in Fire, Episode 02

(Masterpost) (Other Canary Stuff)

Warning: Spoilers for All 54 Episodes!

A Cunning Plan

Let's start by checking in with the in-progress schemes. Nirvana in Fire features many, many overlapping schemes that stretch across multiple episodes.

Princess Nihuang's Marriage: Princess Nihuang is betrothed to a dead guy, and that's fine with her. If she needs tender emotional care she's got Xia Dong. Xia Dong is married to a dead guy so this works well for both of them.

The Emperor wants to marry Nihuang off, because she's got a loyal heap of troops at the southern border, and he's a paranoid old fuck, who doesn't like anyone to have the power to overthrow him. Marrying her will sort of force her to hand her troops off to her impulsive younger brother, or something.

The Emperor has a soft spot for Nihuang, however, so he's allowed her to set a bunch of impossible conditions on the marriage, including a martial arts contest. NIF is a hybrid palace drama and Wuxia drama, so there are courtesans and backstabbing and sneaky maids and sneaky eunuchs but also, people can fly.

The two main power seekers, Prince Yu and the Crown Prince, have flunkies that they want Nihuang to marry, but their flunkies suck at martial arts, so if they want her to marry one of their dudes, there will have to be cheating.

Note that Nihuang's good friends Jingrui and Yujin are taking part in the contest to marry her, which might be weird, except they both know she can beat their asses so they seem to just be joining in for fun & prestige.

The fact that she doesn't want to marry either of these loveable cuties means that she's pretty serious about staying betrothed to her first love, despite his apparent deadness.

(more after the cut!)

Recruiting Mei Changsu / Killing Mei Changsu: Team Prince Yu wants to recruit Mei Changsu. Team Crown Prince wants to recruit him or kill him, if recruiting him doesn't work.

Mei Changsu acts like this is so tedious; all he wants to do is rest. But they only want to recruit him because he and his pal Lin Chen made them believe he is the answer to their problems. Whenever Mei Changsu acts annoyed at something, it's probably something he actually orchestrated. "Pork chops again?" (secretly buys more pork chops).

The Duke Qing/ Landgrab Case: In Episode 1, the Jiangzuo Alliance protected some witnesses against Duke Qing in an enslavement/land grabbing case. It's difficult for me to find anything about historical land grabbing in China because Google is full of 21st century land grabbing information. Anyway Duke Qing works for Prince Yu, so the witnesses are (whether they mean to be or not) on The Crown Prince's side. The Emperor has an interest in this case, because land grabbing is bad, apparently, even by corrupt-emperor standards. Xia Dong is in charge of investigating.

The Chiyan Army Case: This is the big conspiracy that the entire show is about. 11 years ago, the Emperor received evidence that Prince Qi, Lin Xie (Mei Changsu's father), and the entire Chiyan army were going to rebel. This was supposedly reported by Xia Dong's husband, Nie Feng, before Lin Xie supposedly killed him. The emperor ordered executions for everybody.

Prince Jing thought this was a bunch of bullshit and didn't hesitate to say so, which got him sent off to distant regions to do army things for years at a time, and landed him a place high up on the emperor’s shit list.

The Hazelnut Pastry Scheme: This is a small scale, benevolent scheme, in which Concubine Jing will eventually stop making cookies with hazelnuts in them, because Mei Changsu is allergic to them.

Ok, that’s the scheme roundup for this episode. On with the show!

Everybody Was Kung Fu Fighting

After a quick expository chat between the Emperor and Gong Gao, laying out the reasons for the Nihuang Marriage Scheme, we go to Prince Yu’s place to watch superhot Meng Zhi, commander of the emperor's guards, whip some ass. Not, alas, literally. Despite his leather shoulder thingies and his handsome beard, and his commanding ways on a battlefield, when it comes to interpersonal relations he is pretty much a labrador retriever puppy in human form.

Meng Zhi is kicking the asses of Prince Yu’s fighters to determine if they're qualified to compete in the Marriage contest. They are not. He points out to the Prince that they can't put such terrible wimps into the competition because it will make the country’s defenses look weak.

This beatdown is observed by Prince Yu and by Xie Yu, who Prince Yu thinks is on his side. Xie is 100% on the Crown Prince's side, but is carefully hiding that fact; he has his son working for Prince Yu as part of his cover.

In determining how severe an ass kicking is, everyone talks about how many moves it takes to defeat someone, like it's chess. Meng Zhi can beat literally anyone else in the show. He's number two on the Langya List of fighters & we never meet #1.

Fe Liu Was Fast as Lightning

Mei Changsu is hanging out in the garden at Xie manor while Fe Liu jumps around. Fe Liu wants Mei Changsu to play Roblox with him, and pouts when MCS opts for staying in the garden and reading a book.

Fe Liu is utterly devoted to Mei Changsu; I really love their relationship. Fe Liu’s backstory isn't fully explained in the show, but apparently he was raised from an early age to focus on being extremely lethal, and didn't spend much time learning to talk or other skills, making him the epitome of the asynchronous/ gifted teen. Mei Changsu isn’t who raised him to be like this; MCS and Lin Chen rescued him, which is why he is now Mei Changsu’s personal murder pet.

Fe Liu is both a complete fantasy character and also a really believable teen, beautifully acted by Leo Wu, who DMBJ fans know from Tomb of the Sea, and who Xiao Zhan fans know from Battle Through the Heavens.

Fe Lui promptly gets into a fight with Meng Zhi, who's visiting Xie manor. All Fe Liu was doing was leaping about the rooftops like an assassin, but since Xie Yu is the sort of guy that a lot of people would like to kill, Meng Zhi doesn't think this is so good. They have a hilarious, entertaining fight with many, many wire-assisted moves.

They're pretty evenly matched, and Xie Yu watches them with extreme interest until Mei Changsu shows up and tells Fe Liu to stop. Xie Yu is watching because he needs to know how many dudes he should send to assassinate Mei Changsu. Answer: more. Always more.

Unfortunately, (or fortunately since it’s probably all part of MCS’s plan) Fe Liu's extreme skilz make it obvious that his boss is someone important. Mei Changsu discusses this with Jingrui and Yujin in an open-air setting where Jingrui's brother Xie Bi can totally hear them. In no time flat, father and son have reported his identity to their respective princes.

Over at Prince Yu's place, Qin Banruo and her awesome eye makeup join the party. She's Prince Yu’s advisor/manipulator, working for the (fallen) Hua kingdom, led by the (deceased) Princess Xuanji . She has a network of spies who work for her, that she deploys for Prince Yu's schemes. Her ultimate goal is not to help him, however, but just to fuck up the Da Liang Empire, which conquered the Hua.

(Nearly) Everybody Hates Jingyan

Xia Dong heads out on her assignment in the Land Grab Case, and Nihuang goes to see her off. They talk about gender expectations and how annoying it is to have to marry a dude, and briefly hang out being WLW goals with their mutual devotion, excellent fashion sense and deadly fighting abilities. Nihuang, in particular, wears the prettiest things and also stands at attention like she's commanding an army; I adore her.

They're interrupted by the arrival of Prince Jing, who is greeted cheerfully by Nihuang and eye-rollingly by Xia Dong.

He's wearing an awesome brass-and-blue armor that we never see again after this episode. It's too bad - it's a good color for him and it has a cool vampire cloak with a high collar.

Prince Jing takes the opportunity to snark at Xia Dong about her investigation and the Xuanjing Bureau’s penchant for inventing finding conspiracies, and then rides off before she can reply.

This leads Nihuang and Xia Dong to get into their chronic argument about the Chiyan Conspiracy and the Lin family, and then Xia Dong hits the road.

Prince Jing and his subordinates stand around outside the palace waiting to report to the emperor while the emperor ignores him. They get sweatier and sweatier while they wait. which makes me like the Emperor a little bit more.

Prince Yu and CP Xian are busy sucking up to the emperor as they look at a manuscript. They are a bunch of assholes and you can see that Gao Zhan isn't a fan of this bullshit.

Eventually Gao Zhan reminds/persuades the emperor to summon Prince Jing, whose brothers snark at him like a couple of 12 year old girls while he radiates manly vigor and handsomeness.

Consort Jin is bummed that she can't see Prince Jing for another 5 days, and her maid sidekick says random comforting things. This maid, Xiao Xin, is actually a little snake, who works for Qin Banruo's network. We don't learn that until sometime later.

All of the maids have this same hairstyle. If you are a westerner and you think this hairstyle is crazy, have a look at some Roman and Byzantine historic hairstyles. I'm not saying this hairstyle is NOT crazy, mind you; just that crazy hair was a feature of many, many historical empires.

Consort Jing has someone deliver her hazelnut cookies to Prince Jing; she doesn’t know about Mei Changsu yet so hazelnut is still on the menu. Nicest mom. Also smartest, helpful-est mom, as the story develops.

Suck-Up Contest

At Xie manor, Xie Bi tries to get Mei Changsu to go meet the Empress, who has stopped by with Nihuang specifically to meet him, as part of the Recruit Mei Changsu scheme. Jingrui says nope, fuck that, he's not going to be a pawn in your political games, fuck off. We get to see Jingrui being steely and righteous, which is both cool and hot. Nihuang should totally marry him.

The Empress is annoyed that Mei Changsu doesn't show up, and Nihuang is like, it's ok, I don’t actually give a fuck about meeting new men. But I did want to meet his murder puppy Fe Liu.

Grand Princess Liyang says they don’t need to bother meeting pugilists, despite her son being one and her supposed best friends/co-parents also being pugilists.

Grand Princess Liyang will probably be glad Mei Changsu didn’t come to her little party, once she realizes what tends to happen when Mei Changsu comes to a party.

Then we go to the suitor tournament, in which everyone more or less sucks.

The princes really want to go over to Mei Changsu’s balcony to meet him, and they have a hilarious silent interaction where they both try not to be the first one to move. They finally cave, and go together.

Then they compete to see who can be the most cringe and blow the most smoke up Mei Changsu's ass.

They ply him with gifts and flattery, which he mostly manages to resist.

Cookie Time with Granny

Then they get summoned to go meet the grand empress, who is (I think) the mother of the previous emperor, the grandmother of the current emperor, and the great grandmother of basically every highborn character of the current generation, including Nihuang and Yujin, although it’s not clear where they sit in the family tree. Historically, cousin marriage - particularly of maternal cousins - was no big whoop in China, so it's not surprising that a lot of nobles would share a great-grandmother.

The Grand Empress is a sweet lady with dementia. She can’t figure out who the hell anyone is. First-time viewers feel the same way.

Her dementia is pretty well depicted, unlike a lot of TV dementia, or at least it matches up to my experiences with my own elders. She remembers the distant past more vividly than recent times; when she understands who’s in front of her she connects with them emotionally, but she falls off track easily. And she projects the identities of people she misses onto people who are around her.

Like many other grannies, no matter who is visiting, she wants them to 1. get married 2. produce offspring 3. eat something, you’re so skinny

When Mei Changsu meets Granny she immediately calls him Lin Shu, either because she recognizes him or because she really misses Lin Shu, or both. She calls Nihuang over and joins their hands, and Mei Changsu grabs onto Nihuang's hand and holds it for a while.

Everyone thinks it's adorable that Granny has dementia and is confused about that guy who was horribly killed, except Nihuang, who was already checking Mei Changsu out and is somewhat verklempt. She might have to revise her anti-man feelings a little bit.

Everyone leaves, and Nihuang hits up Mei Changsu to take a walk with her, casually mentioning that she could have his hand cut off for touching her, but since she's not in the mood, he's ok.

She prods a bit to find out what he's doing in town and what he's up to. “Do you have a girlfriend? Like a serious girlfriend or just a stalker who works for you?” She asks him which of the two princes he's going to support, but they’re interrupted by a eunuch beating a slave child. That’s the price you pay for trying to have a date in the palace, I guess.

#nirvana in fire #langya bang #nirvana in fire gifs #restless rewatch nirvana in fire #canary3d-original #my gifs

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happybinghe · 4 years ago

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Shen Jiu Character Analysis:

The Misunderstandings Regarding Shen Jiu and Why I Feel Sorry for Him

Shen Jiu is a very misunderstood character, and although he may not be all smiles and sunshine, his attitude is very realistic considering all that he's been through. While I don't approve of his behavior towards Bingge, when you think about it, you can understand that he's applying the way he was treated by Qiu Jianluo who always beat him up, to Luo Bingge who, backed up by his protagonist halo, somehow manages to get things right despite Shen Jiu's attempts to sabotage his efforts. To him, Bingge's strength and spiritual prowess which seems to come easy to him, is something Shen Jiu struggled to achieve while Binghe, no matter what Shen Jiu tries to do, always succeeds in the end.

Shen Jiu has subtle anger buried in deep, but treats it apathetically. The world has done so much to him, and it seems no one is ever there to help, still constantly blaming him on everything instead.

In the extra chapters of Airplane's Adventures, Shang Qinghua/Airplane accompanies Shen Jiu and Liu Qingge on a mission. After Shen Jiu and Liu Qingge fought with each other again, where Liu Qingge believed Shen Jiu was trying to harm him instead of the demons, Liu Qingge left. Airplane, who is the writer of the original novel and creator of the characters, who knows about his characters more than anyone, thinks to himself, as written in the novel:

Ah right, he had gone to all the trouble to do a good thing, but the result didn’t meet expectations. If it didn’t meet expectations just go out and tell Liu Qingge, “I only wanted to help you out just then”, but he wasn’t willing to do it. If you’re not willing, just let me help you explain, but he couldn’t tear down his face━maybe he was embarrassed. This person really was full of twists and turns, always tormenting himself.

As we can see, Airplane knows Shen Jiu originally meant well and actually helped Liu Qingge when he was being attacked by a demon from behind, but no one would know that as the story is filtered in a way to show Shen Jiu being purely scum. There's a lot hidden under the surface, but the only way we get to see true intentions is when we see the story from Airplane's point of view, since he wrote it and knows how he intended for these characters to be.

Airplane then proceeds to advise Shen Jiu, telling him:

“If, in the future, you see someone going into qi deviation, do not panic, and do not rashly go up thinking you can save them. You must stay calm and go call for help, do not make a move yourself. Or else, you will definitely be more of a hindrance than a help, poke a big hole in the basket, and abandon yourself to despair from then on, unable to free yourself for the rest of your life. Not even jumping into the Yellow River could wash you clean!”

So originally, Airplane wrote Shen Jiu with him having in mind believing himself that he could help Liu Qingge when he had a qi deviation, not having any intention of killing him. But him being written as the villain clearly gives Shen Jiu a hand that can only destroy, even if that wasn't his intention. Shen Jiu, as well as Luo Bingge, are prisoners to the system and to a force stronger than them in which no matter what they want or intend, there are simply things they have no control over, no matter how much deep down they wish they did. I'll keep that topic for a different post.

Shen Jiu is too prideful to state his good intentions. Since they believe him to be scum no matter what he does, then let them. He doesn't care what anyone thinks, even if he doesn't want to harm them, if they believe he does, then he doesn't care enough to change their opinion about him. Shen Jiu is a self-hating person. And he won't defend himself if someone accuses him of something. The sort of attitude he has will hide his good intentions. He's the type of person to carry himself with a cold aura and look on his face, do good in secret, and never let anyone know about it.

However, sometimes when you're constantly accused of anything and everything, and to people you're considered a scummy person, then at some point, you may just throw everything to the wind, with the thought of if that's what they think, then so be it. You want me to be the villain, I'll be the villain. And that's possibly where throwing his frustration comes, towards Bingge, the boy who can clearly bear everything and not complain about it, in his perspective. Everything has led up to that, originally he had good intentions, but now, he simply doesn't care.

When he is later faced with so many accusations at the same time, in his mind, no matter what he says, it simply won't help. The people will simply only hear their own voices and believe what they want to believe.

I believe that despite if Shen Jiu has good intentions, it's covered up by the fact that he's written as a villain, with details of his past and personal view originally unknown and covered up considering Airplane Bro left out alot in his original drafts and didn't include alot of details concerning Shen Jiu's life since he wanted to mainly write what his fans wanted even if it originally wasn't what he had planned. So just as Luo Bingge has a protagonist halo that will basically bend the story to protect him from death and help him to succeed, Shen Jiu has a villain halo that no matter what good he does, in the eyes of others, he will seem guilty no matter what he does to try and fix things. Also, think about Liu Qingge and how he treats his disciples. He barely shows up, Bai Zhan Peak is always destroying things and fighting everyone, including Luo Bingge. But the story doesn't focus on that and it's considered a normal occurence, because it's filtered in a way where even if the characters all treat their disciples roughly for example, Shen Jiu is the targeted and chosen villain, so every little thing he does will become emphasized and make it seem like he's the worst person in the world, even if everyone else does the same or worse. There are a lot of people with bad attitudes, but they're not called a villain. Because there's no focus on the cruelty of others, only focusing on Shen Jiu's actions and emphasizing them, no matter how many actual villains there really are, it won't seem as terrible as Shen Jiu because he's put in the spotlight, on stage, where everyone points out and focuses solely on his flaws.

When someone is treated like a villain and constantly hated without any care, kindness, or love ever being directed towards them, it's only natural for them to become a cold, distant, and self-loathing person, shutting themselves out from the world, as Shen Jiu originally did when he was rarely at the peak as he never really felt welcomed there by anyone. No one ever shows him any genuine care, other than Yue Qingyuan, but Shen Jiu feels betrayed by him for leaving him and never coming back to rescue him when they were young, never knowing the truth of what really happened even up to his death, which I think is really sad and tragic. Also, Yue Qingyuan is a great person and all, but it kind of bothers me that he still calls him Xiao Jiu even though it bothers Shen Jiu, who prefers the name Shen Qingqiu since the other name brings back memories of a life he would really love to forget and not think of. It's like constantly reminding your best friend of their ex who they really want nothing to do with anymore. He wants to fix what happened but he's really constantly struggling to. Anyway, I just feel that it's a bit disrespectful to call someone something they don't like and they're trying to forget. (I'm using the name Shen Jiu here so you don't get confused) Shen Jiu needs for others to show their good intentions before he does. So far he hasn't seen that from people, and so he believes that everyone is intentionally against him and doesn't like him. Like when he was fighting with Liu Qingge, he later mentioned to Yue Qingyuan and asked him why Liu Qingge doesn't show him kindness and mercy first, and why does he always have to be the one to do so. Shen Jiu is like a cat, if you want him to approach you kindly, you need to approach him kindly first, even if it takes a while.

According to a psychology fact I read, it takes 7 positive compliments to make up for 1 negative comment. So if he is constantly faced with negativity and barely anything positive, how is he supposed to function properly without bitterness taking over him? He's only human. He too has feelings. The negativity targeted towards him outweighs the positive. Watching Shen Jiu's actions, he's generally trying to find a place for himself to belong, and no one ever accepts him. All of that turns into subtle and low-key hatred and anger. It hurts deep down to be hated by everyone and not having anyone you can even trust. Of the very few who were nice to him was Qiu Haitang, sister to her abusive brother who always beat up Shen Jiu, without her ever knowing. He was going to marry her, but it's pretty normal that someone written as a villain isn't allowed to be happy, and so life happens. He's always had a difficult life, constantly hated, never loved, being rejected and seemingly betrayed. He's never fit in anywhere, and I see him to be a very lonely person who wants somewhere to belong and has a human need to be loved, even if he'd never admit it.

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orsuliya · 4 years ago

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Well, look who it is! Hello, General Mou Lian, I’ve missed you so!

I must say, I am impressed with how fast the Ningshuo contingent is able to fully man the battlements once a suspected enemy is spotted. Those are no Imperial Mooks, that’s to be sure! And it is no enemy either, merely a band of civilians led by Prince and Princess Yuzhang. Wait, what?!

Okay, it’s not the first time (and maybe not the second either) that a rumour of Xiao Qi’s death turned out to be nothing more than the wishful thinking of his enemies. Even the local tribesmen know that. Which explains why everybody looks very happy yet rather unshocked upon seeing Xiao Qi alive. I get the feeling that they might have been expecting him to turn up sooner or later; apparently Tang Jing (the not-Hu-Guanglie-moustached-general) has left to parts unknown to search for Xiao Qi the Traitorous Regicide. Daaaaamn, that’s some loyalty.

Okay, not everybody is happy with this recent development. Commander Liu, Ningshuo’s shiny new boss straight from the capital itself, is decidedly unhappy. But then he’s just a strange general in general. For some unfathomable reason he doesn’t go anywhere without a troop of his own men. It’s almost like he was afraid of something... but surely there’s no reason whatsoever for such mistrust, right?

Commander Liu shows an astonishing deafness to the mood of his new subordinates and decides that:

no traitors in general and no traitorous general in particular are allowed inside, only too bad that the Princess and all those other people are no traitors;

dealing with the approaching Hulan army is not his problem despite it being pretty much his main duty;

ordering Ningshuo men to shoot with a great risk of hitting their beloved former (?) boss is a good idea;

threatening Ningshuo soldiers with death is a great idea;

escalating the conflict by taking Mou Lian hostage is one of the greatest ideas ever;

sitting on the battlements and looking idly as Prince Yuzhang and a group of determined tribesmen fight in defense of women and children is THE BESTEST IDEA UNDER THE SUN.

If I didn’t know already, I’d be able to pinpoint Commander Liu’s origin anyway. Those capital guys are really something, aren’t they? At least Liu is really, really brave, I guess? I’d not be half as confident dissing the most beloved man in Ningshuo while sitting in the middle of Ningshuo fortress with only a handful of men I can be sure of.

Now, compare that to Xiao Qi, whose first priority is saving lives. Personal pride and honor can go to hell, as far as he is concerned. He’ll admit to being a hunted traitor, why not. And bow twice (!) while standing before the gates like a humble (or not so humble) supplicant.

Those bows must have been like stabbing a dagger into the very heart of Ningshuo Army. And then he just shrugs and goes to fight alone. That’s a goddamn nuke to the heart!

INSTANT MUTINY IT IS! And they’ll even apologize for taking so long. ;___;

#the rebel princess #monarch industry #episode 60

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touchmycoat · 4 years ago

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LOL when you said Hero my brain said noooooooooooooo cuz they all died dammit but then you said jmbnh and I perked up considerably :P. That sounds really really cool!!!

YEAH YOU GOT IT LMFAO. i'm gonna try to actually execute this (I hope), so i'm gonna slap the rough first outline under a cut for those who don't want spoilers ;) ;) but you already know where i'm going with this lolololol

Act I: Did you know the Xiu Ya Sword and the Broken Sword were lovers?

The Warrior is brought before the Emperor. Upon presenting the broken Cheng Luan sword, he is allowed to approach within 20 paces. "Did you kill him?" "No. Your Venerable Majesty's decree may have been dead or alive, but all warriors on the jianghu know it's the Emperor's wish to kill the Cheng Luan Sword personally." "Very good. Bring him before me." "Your Venerable Majesty, the Cheng Luan Sword Liu Qingge has escaped his bounds and is on the run." "No matter, Your Majesty, he will come here." "Oh? Why is that?" "Because the only two men to have bested him are here, and his sword lies broken between us."

The Emperor laughs, joyous.

"Very good! But Cheng Luan is not all you brought."

Xiu Ya and the broken Xuan Su swords. The Warrior is allowed to approach within 10 paces.

"How did you do it?"

"Did Your Venerable Majesty know the Xiu Ya Sword and the Broken Sword are lovers?"

-Red-

We get the heavily saturated story of the Warrior going to the Qiong Ding School of Calligraphy. He begs a character: 心, heart. He does so to figure out the Broken Sword's strength, because swordsmanship is embodied in calligraphy. He also fights side-by-side with Xiu Ya Sword, fending off the Emperor's attempt to be rid of the assassins. He gains enough cred from Shen Qingqiu to beg an audience with both Shen Qingqiu and Yue Qingyuan.

There the Warrior tells them that Liu Qingge is dead, and that LQG had been confident that YQY, with whom he'd had a one night stand, will avenge him. It's the Warrior's honor to come challenge YQY now. In a fit of jealous rage, SQQ stabs and kills YQY, then goes to battle the Warrior himself. Distraught by emotions, SQQ falls, and the Warrior walks away the victor.

Back in the Palace, the Emperor listens. He says he did know, yes, that the Xiu Ya Sword and the Broken Sword are lovers, but doesn't the Warrior think he's underestimated somebody in this equation? "Whom?" "Me. I've met Yue Qingyuan once, three years ago when he and Shen Qingqiu tried to assassinate me. Even then I could see his complete devotion to SQQ. He would never sleep with anybody else, not if SQQ is still at his side. So everything you said is a lie, except for one thing." "What?" "I think the Cheng Luan sword did know one of you, but I think the one he knew was you."

Act II: I think the Cheng Luan Sword trusted you.

"I think you, Liu Qingge, Shen Qingqiu, and Yue Qingyuan all colluded in order to get you within ten steps of me."

-Blue-

Despite imperial witnesses, Liu Qingge successfully faked his own defeat at the Warrior's blade. The Warrior carried and bound LQG himself. Then the Warrior brings his proposal to SQQ and YQY—he has a killing move as long as he gets within ten steps of the Emperor, so he only needs one of their blood on his hands. SQQ wounds YQY to keep YQY at home and makes himself the sacrifice. YQY does not make it in time to save SQQ but gives the broken Xuan Su to the Warrior anyways, because Xiu Ya and Xuan Su, just like their masters, should always stay together.

"You also gave LQG a way out. All of this is to get within ten steps of me. And now you're here. Tell me, am I wrong?"

"...Only about one thing. Your Majesty has also underestimated somebody."

"Who?"

"The Broken Sword."

Act III: The Broken Sword says you must not be killed.

-White-

Nobody was ever in actual danger. The Warrior did not kill LQG. He also will not kill SQQ or YQY. They only need to fake it for the imperial witnesses.

Only, the Broken Sword says the Emperor must not be killed. Xiu Ya Sword is furious—"You know what he's done to me and my country, yet you let him go three years ago and you'd let him go now. Why?!" But YQY will not say. SQQ vows to help the Warrior and stabs YQY to keep him out of their way.

But as the Warrior heads to the Capital, YQY also gives him Xuan Su. "Do you know why my blade is broken?" "No." "Neither do I. I've never wondered, either, but three years ago, when my blade nicked the Emperor's neck, Xuan Su suddenly sent me a warning."

"A warning about what?"

"A warning that I'll find out. I'll find out what broke my blade if I kill the Emperor, and that's something I want to remain ignorant of no matter the cost. Can you understand that feeling?"

"...Yes, I can."

"Who would have thought, of all the people in the world, it's the Broken Sword who understands me best? You understand it too? Tell me the feeling," the Emperor demands. "What is the thing you don't know, but the thought of knowing it terrifies you?"

"I know I must kill the Emperor," the Warrior states. "I know that he is a tyrant, and he runs a bloody world. I know I must kill him to save us all. What I don't know is why my heart breaks at the thought."

"You know you sound just like a man I used to know," the Emperor sneers. "He too criticized my methods. He too despised me. He too hurt at the thought of hurting me. Do you know why Liu Qingge must die by my hands?"

LQG steps out of the shadows, wounded but ready to kill.

"Because the Cheng Luan Sword took that man from me," the Emperor snarls, pulling his blade.

LQG approaches.

"Pass me Cheng Luan," he tells the Warrior. The Warrior grabs Cheng Luan, but hesitates in the throw. "Shen—!"

The Emperor runs him through. LQG falls dead at their feet. There are less than ten steps between them and the Emperor can kill the Warrior in just as easy a stroke. The Emperor does not.

"Who," the Warrior asks slowly, eyes on the fallen LQG, "is the man you used to know?"

"I don't know."

"I think I do. I think by coming here, I've learned the reason for my heartache."

"I think I have too. I wish you hadn't come. Will you still kill me, Shizun?"

"I don't know."

"Yes you do. This is something you've always known."

"...Yes, Your Majesty, I will."

The Emperor takes a deep, shaky breath.

"You didn't let Liu Qingge kill me."

"That's because he couldn't have," the Warrior says sadly. "Only I know how to kill you."

"Well I won't let you!" the Emperor snarls, furious. "I'll cut off your arms so you can never wield a sword again and your legs so you can never run again! You've left me once, I won't let you do it again!"

"Binghe."

The Emperor's eyes go wide, then red. He turns on his heel and takes less than ten steps away. His sword is still in the Warrior's hand.

"This character," he says of the scroll hung behind his seat, the one on which YQY has written heart, "holds the secret to his sword. Is that what you said, Shizun?"

"Yes."

"So many people want to kill me, Shizun. I know why. This too is something I've always known," Luo Binghe says quietly. "What's curious is why there is a man who doesn't want me dead, when my own Shizun will suffer heartbreak itself to kill me. Have you figured it out?"

"Not quite."

"May this disciple examine it?"

"...Of course."

He examines the character for a very long time.

"I see it now!" the Emperor exclaims. "As the Broken Sword understands me, I understand him. In my tyranny, I am strong. I am the only person strong enough to keep this country together. As long as I am alive, his world will keep going. His sword, his brush, his heart—it's all one in the same. It's all right here. Destroy one, you destroy the others."

"When you die, he will die too."

"No, Shizun." Luo Binghe's voice is so, so sad. "When I die, his heart will die too. It's the same for this disciple too. Killing me may bring Shizun heartbreak, but it will destroy my heart completely. Shizun, please. Please don't kill me."

"Turn around, Binghe."

When Luo Binghe turns, Shen Yuan has set LQG's corpse on its back and placed Cheng Luan in LQG's hands. His smile for LBH is sad.

"If you hadn't killed Liu Qingge, I really might have spared you," Shen Yuan says, wielding LBH's sword. "But now that he's gone...Binghe, this Master is sorry to have failed you. But I promise, it'll all be fine. The pain will go away quickly."

"Shizun..."

The sword is at LBH's chest. He thinks that even though it's his sword, he doesn't recognize it at all.

Shen Yuan wipes a tear from LBH's face.

"Binghe," he says, lifting the blade, "silly child. I wouldn't have stabbed you from the back."

He sinks the blade into Luo Binghe's heart. Everything shatters.

"Senior Disciple Shen!"

"It's self-destruct!"

"He's killed him! Luo Binghe's killed Senior Disciple Shen!"

Shen Qingqiu's head snaps up to where, in the sky, Shen Yuan's limp body had started to fall. He moves on instinct to go catch Shen Yuan, but he coughs up a violent fit of blood instead, falling back into Yue Qingyuan's arms.

"Xiao Jiu!" There's blood on Yue Qingyuan's lips as well and his face is ashen, but he's clearly been awake for longer than SQQ. "Don't—"

"Save him!" SQQ tries to yell. All of a sudden, a shadow speeds over their heads, catching Shen Yuan's limp body before it could hit the ground.

It's Liu Qingge. He's both furious and panicked. He has the dying Shen Yuan in one arm while in his other arm, he held another body.

"Up," Shen Yuan whispers, fading quickly, "Binghe. Quick, he's waking."

"Take care of yourself first!" Liu Qingge snaps. "I brought the body like you said—"

"Shixiong, please. I promised not to hurt him."

Teeth gritted, LQG launches them all the way up to the center of a miasmic black, where LBH hovers, surrounded by demonic energy. There's an immense blanket of demonic energy lifting from the earth, and people are screaming and running about.

"What's going on?! Where did all this demonic energy come from?!"

"Is he cursing us?!"

"No, no it's going away! Look! Senior Disciple Shen must have done something!"

"Has he saved us?"

LBH's eyes snap open and the first thing he does is attack. LQG just barely blocks the blow with both his arms occupied. There are tears on LBH's face and he's putting out an insane amount of demonic energy. He's screaming as he launches himself at Shen Yuan.

Shen Yuan grabs LBH back with the last of his strength, gives LBH a firm but loving shake.

"Binghe!" he demands. "Watch."

LBH freezes and does as he's told. He watches as the last bit of life drains from Shen Yuan's body. He watches as LQG releases Shen Yuan's corpse into his arms. He watches as something goes white at his side, and it's LQG activating an array on the other body.

LBH watches as the pieces of SY's soul find a home again in the second body, which suddenly pulses bright with spiritual power. The body opens its eyes and takes a huge, gasping breath.

"Shen Yuan?" LQG demands to know.

"Shizun...?"

The person in the body lets out a little sigh of relief. He grabs LQG with one hand and LBH with the other.

"See, Binghe?" he chuckles weakly. "I told you it'll all be fine."

He faints.

The full story comes at the end. Shen Jiu still gets taken in and abused by Qiu Jianluo, Yue Qi still binds his life to his sword at Cang Qiong. Only, SJ's first strike against QJL mostly misses, and as QJL approaches SJ in fury, another little houseboy—the one who dusts and sweeps and mops but none of the hard work because he was born with a sickly body—holds out his broom and trips QJL. He means for SJ to get away, but SJ kills QJL instead. SJ still sets the house on fire, but he has no idea if the other houseboy got away.

After reuniting with YQY and entering Cang Qiong as a disciple, SJ is working in the field one day when he stumbles on a Master Shang's Medical Emporium. There's an incredible amount of rare flora and fauna in there, all great for cultivators. Intrigued, SQQ investigates and finds the source of all these goods to be a young man named SY—whom he recognizes. He swears SY to secrecy about his past and takes SY to Qing Jing, first to prevent SY from exposing him, but then they grow close. SY is very clever and knows how to make himself useful to SQQ. His level-headedness earns him a spot by seventeen at SQQ's side as senior disciple.

Flash forward to LBH's arrival on Qing Jing. SQQ is still cold and spiteful and petty, but with SY there, LBH is cared for. SY's older than LBH by what, five years? Takes baby!bing under his wing and mitigates the sour relationship between LBH and SQQ. As a joke (but not really), LBH calls SY "Shizun" in private, and SY gets a real kick out of it.

The thing is, SY is still totally a transmigrator. But just like Shang Qinghua, he transmigrated into a baby's body and basically had a whole other life in this world. Seventeen, eighteen years is a very long time to remember a novel you read a lifetime ago. While SQH's life changed, SQH's only a minor character—plus that's the author! Maybe he gets special privileges, while nobody else is allowed to influence the plot in a major way. Scared of potential repercussions, SY trains LBH and gives LBH as many resources on Qing Jing as he can, but does not tell LBH about the upcoming Abyss.

So SQQ still ends up kicking LBH into the Abyss. SY is filled with incredible regret. The relationship between him and SQQ go kind of awry too, but it's still mostly okay because SY knows LBH is not actually dead.

Just to level the playing field though, SY also doesn't tell SQQ that LBH is going to come back for revenge.

All this while, SY and LQG get to meet and become really good friends. Out of friendship comes love—they both crush on each other in a way that's super obvious to everybody else. SY isn't actually a very strong cultivator, but he is a voracious scholar (cough nerd cough) and hunts/forages a lot of wild stuff. LQG accompanies him every time.

Thanks to SY's training, LBH comes back from the Abyss a lot earlier than SY and SQH expected. LBH seeks out SY, but bad timing has him overhearing SY talk about how LBH dying at the Abyss was for the best—LBH assumes it's bc of his demon bloodline, but SY is really just placating other characters. On top of that, LBH finds SY and LQG all couply and lovey-dovey. LBH runs off.

Because why??? Why does everyone he cares about leave him, why does the entire world want him dead??? Even Shen-shixiong, somebody who cared for him, betrays him in the end. SQQ also gets word of LBH's return at around the same time and comes to hunt him down. In classic SQQ fashion, he only makes shit worse for Binghe, and LBH starts using Xin Mo like crazy.

When they get the word, YQY, SY, and LQG go running. SY learns about LBH being taken over by Xin Mo and asks LQG for a favor—go to my hidden lil mushroom grove and grab my spare body for me please? See, SY's physical ailments had him researching ways to clone himself and put himself in a better body. It's untested, but probably successful!! SY sends LQG to go get the body while himself and YQY and SQQ confront LBH.

During the battle, SQQ gets himself seriously wounded to protect Qi-ge. In a fit of fury, YQY unsheathes half of Xuan Su. LBH goes crazier as a response, and SY throws himself on the sword to save LBH from being eaten up by Xin Mo's power.

Believing he's killed the love of his life, LBH blue-screens. Unconsciously, he activates one of the most powerful skills the Dream Demon's taught him—Waking Dream. He plunges the entire mountain into a dream world of his own making. The world freezes, and everybody gets trapped inside LBH's world. They have no memory of this being a dream, but the few of the most powerful cultivators—LQG, SQQ, and YQY—plus the heart of the dream, SY, all manage to retain one critical piece of information.

As long as the owner of the dream dies, they can all be freed.

So in the dream, LBH becomes the Emperor, wielding all his forces to retain his power over his dream country. LQG, SQQ, YQY, and SY become assassins, all scheming to kill him.

YQY came the closest. He only has half of Xuan Su because Xuan Su is fundamentally bound to his life—half of the sword stayed outside in the real world with his body. Inside the dream, YQY and SQQ got to be lovers for years, and SQQ did not hate him. Upon sensing the boundaries of the dream, YQY could not bring himself to kill LBH and shatter the beautiful mirage.

If you die inside the dream, you die in real life—with one exception. If it's the owner of the dream who kills you, you get to go free.

That's what happened with LQG. LQG was still en route with the body, and SY didn't know if he'd make it. So SY was honest in the dream—had LQG remained in the dream with them, SY might really have allowed his baby bing to keep the dream going. He didn't want to hurt LBH with his own death. However, with LQG out of the dream, he knows LQG will probably make it on time with the body to save him. So he kills LBH and gets them all out.

The last scene is qijiu. SQQ is bed-bound. Nobody else has retained memories of the dream, only faint impressions. Only he and YQY know what happened.

SQQ demands to know why YQY refused to kill LBH. YQY explains, and the truth about Xuan Su also comes out. Happy ending happy ending.

SY of course survives. He gets a cool new body and apologizes sincerely for letting LBH get pushed into the Abyss. The plot has obviously changed in a major way already, and whatever happens from now on will just happen, it's fine. And LBH and LQG, his two favorite people in the world, will just have to get along. They'll all be best buds together hahahahahaha.

#hero AU #svsss #jesus christ this got long lkjfnlaksdjf #sv #but i think it works pretty darn well!!!!!#anon

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kiruuuuu · 6 years ago

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Smoke/Lesion oneshot in which Lesion meets someone important during his first mission and then realises he was horribly wrong over the course of a few years. (Rating T, culture clash + hurt/comfort, ~9k words) - written for @yovelie! I can’t thank you enough for this commission and all your encouragement 💞💞 You continue to be a delight! Find my commission info here!

This fic has been posted to AO3 as well!! Read it here :)

His presence alone demands respect: he has the aura of someone who turns heads unconsciously, who parts a crowd with no effort and without realising, of a man used to making himself heard. Tze Long inadvertently holds his breath as the broad-shouldered, imposing European paces the room, studying the papers handed to him upon entry and not yet having directed a single word at anyone. He oozes confidence and competence, a good mixture as far as Tze Long is concerned, and despite the circumstances, he’s calmed down considerably. With this fortress of a man on their side, he has nothing to fear.

The man’s companion is less impressive, reminds Tze Long more of an aged schoolkid, sitting the wrong way around on a chair and resting his chin on his arms, eyes lazily trailing after his superior. If anything, he’s an apprentice, for some reason deemed worthy enough to follow this legend around despite proving himself lacking in several aspects – physical appearance is just one of them. He merely scanned the report Tze Long neatly put together before switching to playing with a lighter instead, face bored and impassive.

Indonesian weather doesn’t agree with either of them and yet Tze Long can’t pretend he minds, not when it forces the two to expose their toned arms and causes sweat to bead up on their foreheads enticingly. This is a moment in which he stops wondering why he’s got it so bad for Westerners.

Paper rustles and restless footfalls stop. The tall man fixes Tze Long with a level gaze which shouldn’t cause his heart to skip a beat like this. “Your name is…?”

“Liu Tze Long, sir.”

Two pairs of eyes drill into him yet he returns the stare without blinking. “You know who I am?”

He nods. “I do, sir.” How could he not? Operation Nimrod gained international fame and besides, all special forces have their own celebrities, pass on gossip just as swiftly as the Hollywood scene. Vineyards work fast, especially concerning the British SAS, most acclaimed organisation worldwide. Tze Long has been following this man’s career for about a decade now, hungrily devouring every tasty piece of information he could find. This is his idol before him, in the flesh, and he still has trouble believing it.

“Good. This is James Porter.” The sidekick gives a half-hearted wave and a half-hearted smile. “You’re the one who interpreted the files on the laptop found in Macau?”

“That is correct, sir.”

“Fucking bubonic plague”, Mike Baker mutters with a shake of his head, pushing back his sweat-soaked hair. “What do you reckon, Jamie?”

“Complete neutralisation asap”, comes the reply without hesitation, yet delivered like a disagreeable school report, “the files didn’t indicate the existence of more than one lab, so only one infiltration necessary. We’ll have the SDU assist us in gathering intel and coordinating the whole thing, go in, destroy the prototypes and samples as well as all data and leave.”

Tze Long nods mutely. They’ve identified the location of the extremist’s laboratory already which is why his superiors deemed it necessary to ask the Brits for help – their expertise in storming a building riddled with mercenaries and equipped with a worryingly potent biological weapon is limited. He doesn’t let his surprise over James’ astute observations show. He should’ve figured every member of the SAS has been recruited for a reason.

“Almost.” Mike leans against a table and Tze Long’s eyes drop lower all by themselves. “There’s no need to ask more people for help. We three are more than capable of taking down this megalomaniac – the fewer people can alert these terrorists to our plan of attack, the better. We don’t need the SDU’s fancy gadgets if we can help it. Right?”

The last word is directed at Tze Long who nods automatically. He indubitably knows best, seeing as how he’s not only still alive but also in active duty after all this time. “Yes, sir. Of course.”

“See? Even he agrees with me.” James simply rolls his eyes, visibly exasperated, but doesn’t dare object. If he had, Tze Long would’ve been appalled with the blasphemy. “You’re both knowledgeable in toxicology, so you better figure out how to get rid of this nonsense while I do observation and planning. Also, if you call me ‘sir’ one more time, I’m gonna personally feed you my badge.”

Tze Long opens his mouth, throws a glance at an extremely amused-looking Porter and decides against speaking up.

“Alright, let’s brainstorm on how to neutralise this plague without causing a medium-sized epidemic”, Porter turns to him with a cheerful grin. “Or, as I’d like to call it: the fun part.”

~*~

Macau has never held any fascination for Tze Long for as long as he could think – the old Portuguese buildings, yes, but once he’d seen them, there was only glamour and glitz to discover, new ways of relieving encumbered tourists of their money and the vice-like grip of the Chinese government tightening on a city doomed to be a one-trick pony forever. He never bought into the explosive potential of the casinos, prioritised work over luck and ended up in a respectable place as a result. Things work out eventually, but always through hard work and not unnecessary risk-taking. He prefers necessary risk-taking.

This day, however, he’s come to experience it through someone else’s eyes and allowed the city to dazzle him as if he was a toddler experiencing the Lunar New Year fireworks consciously for the very first time. Everything is bright, loud, inviting and affordable, even for his wallet, and he takes great pride in explaining all the local delicacies, the colonial history and differences between Macau and Hong Kong, as well as Asian customs in general. Most Europeans he meets either already know their fair share about the region or are much more interested in an entirely different thing, so it’s with childlike wonder that he accompanies Mike and James traipsing through Asia’s Las Vegas.

They’ve washed up in a Din Tai Fung purely because Mike knows the restaurant chain and was thirsting for a little bit of familiarity after an entire day of concentrated culture shock – but not familiar enough to allow them to forget they’re in another continent, like one of the many American fast food chains might’ve done, even given their differing menu.

“I never would’ve pegged you for a gambler”, Tze Long chuckles in between dumplings and marvels not for the first time at the fact that conversing with one of the most renowned blades has become this easy over the course of a singular mission.

“Me neither, but results don’t lie.” Mike frowns at the cup of green tea before downing it in one go. He doesn’t look like a fan. “If you hadn’t dragged me off, I might be a few thousand quid richer.”

“If we hadn’t dragged you off you’d be on your fifth Singapore sling and probably hitting on a coat rack”, James states drily.

“A miracle – the man who bets on everything shies away from roulette.”

“Not everyone has your kind of pocket change. And besides, I only bet on meaningful things. Like the fact that I’m gonna eat more than either of you of these – what are they called again?”

“Xiao long bao.” Tze Long pokes at one of the steamed dumplings filled with pork and hot soup. “And don’t bother betting anything, my stomach becomes bottomless when it comes to them.”

“You look like you don’t have them very often, in that case”, Mike interjects with a grin and definitely did not expect Tze Long to mirror his expression and retort: “You look like you have them a little too often.” He’s come to learn that friendly banter is not only viewed favourably but also generally expected, and not for the first time he’s grateful for his extended interest in expats.

Once James is done laughing (which takes a while and is made worse by Mike’s glare), he suggests: “These things are bloody delicious, so I’m definitely not gonna lose. Let’s bet on a dessert.”

Tze Long agrees, and their banter continues. An outsider might not identify them as extremely recent acquaintances, not with how easily Tze Long laughs, not with how naturally James elbows him in the side, not with how nonchalantly Mike overlooks their antics. But near death experiences have a way of forming unbreakable bonds, invisible strings tying near strangers together and inspiring them to treat each other almost like family: an involuntary gathering of people who share a fundamental trust. It’s easier to ignore shortcomings or differing opinions when they’ve had each other’s blood on their hands, and never before has Tze Long felt this connection as strongly as with these two Englishmen. They will stay in contact after this, that much is obvious, and maybe he’s made friends for life.

Maybe he’s made more.

Mike was the first one to ask him for his number, and if he noticed Tze Long’s fingers shaking, he didn’t comment on it.

As expected, both of them end up too full to even think about trying the molten chocolate-filled dumplings nor the matcha cake, so they agree on a draw after probably having miscounted anyway. Tze Long shows his gratitude for Mike’s winnings paying for their meal by gifting him a charm for his phone, one that’s not too tacky and meant to bring good fortune, and because he doesn’t want James to be empty-handed, he buys one for him too. They walk off the food coma by one of the beaches; it’s cooled down a little over the course of the evening and so neither of them takes their shirt off. Shame.

They linger outside of the hotel.

“You’re going back to Hong Kong tonight?”, Mike inquires, stretching in the humid night air and displaying his long limbs like an unconcerned predator knowing it’s at the top of the food chain.

“Yes. I sleep better at home and the ferries go regularly even at this hour. It’s a shame about your flight, I would’ve liked to show you my home.”

“And I’d like to show you ours”, James replies, sounding surprisingly genuine. Usually, half of what he utters is sarcasm and the other half jokes – if he hadn’t displayed professionalism and competence during their mission on top of that, Tze Long might’ve refused to work with him outright. “If you’re ever in Europe, call.”

“And if you’re ever in Asia again, let me know.” He fidgets. His throat is swollen with all the half-sentences threatening to burst out, all the confessions he’s suppressing… but there’s a foreign body in the way and he’s not willing to lay himself bare before these attentive eyes which have been following his every move for days now. He’s long understood that laziness and disinterest are a cover to hide a sharp sense of observation as well as a keen mind. James prefers being underestimated. Mike, on the other hand, is as authentic as it gets – he never holds back, sees bluntness as a virtue and wastes no time in hiding. Enviable. Tze Long wishes he could do the same.

“I forgot to buy smokes, be right back”, James announces into the short silence and disappears as if he’d read Tze Long’s mind. The opportunity is perfect, made even better when Mike addresses him directly.

“I’m serious, it was a pleasure working with you.” His chest swells at the genuine compliment. “Even if you’re as suicidal as Jamie. You’ll get far. Do you have a lot of experience under your belt already?”

He omitted this fact as to not spark any doubts, but now he might as well admit it. “Actually, this was my first mission.”

Mike’s brows lift, just like the corners of his mouth. “And you waited this long to tell us? You son of a bitch, I don’t believe it. I have even less doubt about your future now. I hope to see you again soon.” He holds out his hand and Tze Long takes it, feels a warm palm against his own, a strong grip, melts under approving eyes. “You did well. I mean it. Take care of yourself, will you?”

Please, he thinks but doesn’t even dare finish the thought let alone allow his tongue to betray him, dumbly repeats the word in his head over and over like a mantra, like a spell he’s trying to weave. Please. Please. “Yes. You too. Have a safe flight.” And with those words, Mike Baker seemingly vanishes from his life. Silhouette starkly visible against the bright light of the hotel lobby, the embodiment of everything Tze Long wants and wants to be, he leaves, in his wake the hot night air clogging lungs and airways and hearts.

When Tze Long turns, James is silently offering him a lit cigarette. They share it without a word, just like Tze Long often enforced an awkward quiet between them through non-committal replies or flat out ignoring quips despite their wittiness. Looking back, he feels bad about it.

“Wanna join me upstairs?”, the Brit asks as he extinguishes the mutual vice and leads the way when Tze Long nods. Mind and expression carefully blank, they ride the elevator up and enter the luxurious room after James has unlocked it. It’s about the same size as Tze Long’s apartment in Hong Kong. “Shower? Your preference.”

He shakes his head and watches the other man approach him, closes his eyes only a second after their lips touch.

It’s always so obvious, with Europeans. They make no move to hide their interest or curiosity, seem to have no off switch whereas Tze Long has stumbled over vague acquaintances, locals whom he’d never have suspected in the past. James telegraphed clearly until he knew he was understood, and then continued unintentionally.

He’s a good kisser, at least. Considerate, adaptive, even playful – he manages to coax a few smiles out of Tze Long as they just stand there and kiss, despite him feeling like the entire last week didn’t even matter. He wouldn’t have felt like this even if they’d failed. But James is more and more successful in taking his mind off it, and for that he’s grateful. He does have a nice build, favouring the torso over legs but Tze Long doesn’t mind, not when he can run his hands over hard muscles and feel them dance below his fingertips.

They crawl onto the bed, James shirtless and unreasonably attractive-looking, dark mane fanning out on his pillow and ribs expanding prettily with every deep inhale over Tze Long toying with his tongue. He’s hard, both of them are, and it’s no surprise that the first piece of clothing James tries to undo are Tze Long’s trousers.

“I top”, he whispers against a swollen mouth and slides lower to capture an erect nipple with his lips.

James picks up on his phrasing. “Exclusively?” He doesn’t sound like he minds and lets out a beautiful little moan.

“Exclusively Westerners.” Tze Long doesn’t mention he rarely sleeps with locals as it is – many of them are a mirror to his own insecurities and remind him of the endless questions about his marital status. He’s met wonderful local men, yes, one wonderful woman too, an outlier who sadly didn’t stay by his side or else she could’ve made most of his life a lot easier, but when it comes down to it, he prefers the natural demeanour, the surprise over him having to hide, the cheerful forgetfulness concerning their cultural differences. It’s easier to not be reminded than to overcome.

“Had enough of white guy machos who come to the ‘land of the bottoms’ expecting everyone to fall at their feet?” He’s amused yet not mocking.

“Not far off”, Tze Long admits with a smile and leans up for another kiss which is eagerly accepted. He’s starting to get the impression James would be content with nothing but snogging the entire night and the thought makes him uncomfortable.

“It’s not a race thing”, James mutters, hands gently stroking over Tze Long’s body, “I just like pretty people.”

And I like people who take what I’m willing to give without much fuss, Tze Long thinks and marvels over how the body below his comes alive at his every touch. He’s a magnet and James made of metal, has no choice but to strain towards him, intense gaze fixed on his face. Somehow, it hurts looking at him. “What else do you like?” Tze Long parts legs with a soft push to an inner thigh and settles between them.

“Anything. I’m not picky.” Coming from anyone else, he wouldn’t have believed it, but it rings true for James. “Live out your fantasies.” He smiles and means it, despite his next words. “I know I’m a substitute.”

Tze Long’s mouth goes dry. His cheeks burn, actually feel on fire. Restless digits roam over exposed skin but none of its warmth manages to penetrate his own. He feels cheapened, caught. He knows James noticed. He just thought he’d have the decency not to mention it.

He tries to save it with a kiss, but it’s sticky, sickly sweet like too much candy, the taste clinging to the roof of his mouth. Like Macau itself, a pretty façade and nothing more. James can tell he’s not feeling it anymore, he’s sure.

“You don’t have to”, James says, so full of understanding Tze Long’s stomach is in knots.

“I want to”, he lies. Kind eyes blink up at him. James really is handsome, at third glance. He imagines what it’s like to actually fuck him. He wonders what he’d feel like afterwards. The thought is sobering.

“How about we walk around the city some more instead? There were other places you mentioned we didn’t get to see. I’ll just skip sleeping.”

Tze Long doesn’t ask whether it’s really alright with James. He just nods and gets up.

~*~

Confrontation goes against his nature. He’s always cultivated a healthy mix of empathy and disillusionment with humanity as a whole, both to understand other people’s actions as well as not care too much – he’s self-sufficient, needs little to be content, is ambitious without being overzealous, and he believes that everyone eventually gets what they deserve. Picking fights, holding grudges, none of it appeals to him, instead seems clunky, awkward, unnecessary. He lives and lets live, expects others to show him similar courtesy but doesn’t cause a fuss when they don’t.

This, however, is different.

“I’ve been working on this for two months, as you’re well aware, and now you’re saying I won’t be permitted to bring this mission to its conclusion?” His tone is even but his fingers flex, betraying his anger, even resentment.

Mei Lin had to pull him aside so they don’t have this conversation in front of the rest of their team, for which he’s grateful, though he hopes it doesn’t appear as if he’s questioning her authority. She’s gotten enough shit as it is. “Yes”, she replies curtly. “This is non-negotiable. Leave.”

Tze Long catches his fury before it breaks out of him. He respects her like no other, and unlike his peers, doesn’t hold her to higher standards just because she’s a woman. She’s had to work twice as hard to receive half as many commendations. No, this isn’t about her. “You know my work is important to me”, he appeals to her sense of duty, but he’s got the impression he’s not talking to her in her function as his superior right now, despite all.

“This isn’t your call to make either way.” He believes it. If their roles were reversed, if he begged her to exclude him from the mission yet she deemed him irreplaceable, she wouldn’t allow it. “I will bear the consequences. I am aware of what I’m doing. And you need to go.”

He sincerely hopes she’s not committing career suicide, not after she’s fought her way into the SDU, clawed her way up with iron discipline and excellent results. She could have him officially rebuked for insubordination if he refused and stayed. So he doesn’t.

A few hours later, he feels his father’s pulse fade under his fingertips.

Tze Long feels like he’s underwater. Like he’s a singular grain of sand, mercilessly and relentlessly being tossed around by the tide, ground up against his brethren over and over again until they’ve all lost their edge, become smooth and round and compatible, until they make up a pretty picture as a whole, with their personal identities vanishing in favour of making up a greater good.

A metropolis like Hong Kong seems to have this effect on people – at least on most of the ones he’s met. They turn into exchangeable faces, rehashing the same conversations over and over, fulfilling their purpose and causing no ruckus. Oiling the machine. On bad days, this impression weighs him down amid the traffic noises, the daily rush to work and back, the desperate attempts to take the mind off everything. On good days, he manages to spot beauty wherever he goes, smiles and small gestures of kindness, the shocking diversity of the city representing unification and celebration of life in all forms. Hong Kong is colourful in more ways than one, if he dares to look.

Today is a bad day.

He’s frantically chewing on a toothpick while tonguing the sore spots in his mouth where he poked himself before. A friend suggested replacing cigarettes with something else to keep his mouth occupied and help suppress the addiction, and after dismissing chewing gum and carrots, he’s landed on this. So far, it does nothing to quell his anxiety.

When Mei Lin leaves the building, her expression is unreadable until she’s stopped right in front of him, blinking up into the painfully direct sunlight. They study each other, both looking for signs of weakness not to exploit but to encourage. Eventually, she nods. “We’re good”, she announces and both of them slump a little in relief.

What she really means to say is: I’m good. But Tze Long doesn’t correct her. “What did he say?”

“He was understandably upset I would force you off the mission after you’ve been the most involved op in the whole thing. He blamed me for being soft, for endangering the rest of the troop by replacing you. And he told me I shouldn’t have let you know about the call.”

Tze Long nods silently. It’s what he expected.

If she’d told him of the call afterwards, he wouldn’t have been there to witness his father’s last breath.

“But there was someone else there. SAS. Apparently a friend of yours.”

His stomach flips. Did he really come? He wouldn’t have thought – he messaged him that day, late at night, not expecting a reply as usual. Responses were scarce, have always been, so he figured he’d get a supportive text back in a week or two. Not this. His heartbeat quickens and he has to hold himself back to let Mei Lin finish instead of charging the building.

“He wanted to know what happened and then offered his own advice. I’ll spare you the details, they argued a bit, but he held the opinion that amid our discipline and rigorous training, we mustn’t forget we’re also human. Because this humanity is the entire reason we’re doing any of what we’re doing. And in his opinion, I acted according to this ideal and therefore shouldn’t be punished.”

“That does sound like something he’d say”, Tze Long agrees quietly.

Both of them turn to the busy street as if on signal, take a deep breath, compose themselves. He wants to embrace her, wonders whether she’ll take it the right way. Everything is impermanent, he recently received a sharp reminder of this, and his need to cherish everything he still has left throbs behind his temples. Instead, he settles for an earnest: “Thank you. I didn’t agree in the moment, but I do now. You made the correct call.”

“I know.” She fixes him with a gaze so full of sympathy that it paralyses him. “I’m sorry.”

He just nods again. Despite all, he wants to ask her about him, what he was like, whether she liked him, whether she understood who exactly he is. The realisation of how much he cares is frightening, even more so when he hears footsteps behind him, clearly approaching the two of them. He’ll never be ready to face him, never has been, and so he takes the plunge without hesitation and turns around, turns to -

“It’s just me”, James states almost apologetically the moment he must notice the disappointment in Tze Long’s expression.

Whatever it is, whether it’s the uncomfortable vacuum Tze Long has been carrying around with him for a few days already, hindering his ability to feel anything, whether it’s the relief of seeing a familiar, friendly face, whether it’s the fact that James just helped Mei Lin – it’s not nearly as big of a letdown as Tze Long would’ve expected. Yes, he’d hoped it’d be him. But after a second, he’s already come to terms with the fact that it isn’t, and if he’s completely honest, he doesn’t even mind that much. “Good to see you”, he says and means it.

James’ face lights up with a smile. “Good to be here.”

Their dynamic is different.

Tze Long fails to pinpoint why, whether it’s the long months – years, he realises – of constant communication, the fact that he’s not looking over James’ shoulder for most of the time, or the sad circumstances. He’s sociable enough, always enjoys making and keeping friends from all over the world which has come in handy not only at his job but also in his spare time, so he kept up the steady stream of messages between the younger Brit and himself. It wasn’t like they texted every day, yet he expected a message at least once a week and wasn’t ever disappointed. Usually, it was either a world event which occupied them, a remarkable injury on either side (like when Tze Long broke his toe by demonstrating his lack of skill on the tightrope, or when James dreamt bad, flailed around in his sleep and punched himself in the nuts), an entertaining story they came across or just a simple checking in. Casual, pleasant, inconsequential conversations.

Now that they’re face to face once more, James is much more tangible, with that singular dimple he actually pointed out at some point, the laid-back attitude which puts Tze Long at ease immediately, filled to the brim with terrible ideas and even worse jokes and never turning down a challenge. He’s a painting which has come alive, surprising in its actuality yet its core still intact. It’s not like meeting an entirely new person, more of… seeing a whole.

In the half-day they have available, Tze Long shows him Hong Kong. The flight leaves late at night and James bemoans the fact that he’s got trouble sleeping on planes as it is, so the jetlag will kill him, and Tze Long doesn’t ask whether he was in the area anyway, doesn’t ask when he arrived in the first place, why exactly he came.

He suggests Din Tai Fung once more but James shakes his head, inquires about other local specialties and trails after him until they reach the night market on Temple Street which isn’t as crowded as usual seeing as it’s only afternoon. Like in Macau, Tze Long revels in his position as tourist guide and points out miscellaneous facts, tells a few anecdotes and buys a chocolate-flavoured egg waffle as well as milk tea so James can munch and sip on something while marvelling at the colourful trinkets and embroidered clothes offered en masse. In order to get him to try as many stalls as possible, they share portions of dim sum, grilled squid and braised meat, and it delights him to see that James is willing to try basically everything – except for stinky tofu, which is understandable. Tze Long barely smells it at this point but he knows it’s quite off-putting to people not used to it.

Before they head to visit the nearby temples, he purchases fresh fruits to complete the culture shock: some lychee-like longans, a shockingly bright pink dragon fruit and a sweetsop, Tze Long’s personal favourite with its creamy, aromatic flesh. James’ curiosity knows no bounds and, very uncharacteristically, he doesn’t treat Hong Kong with his usual biting sarcasm. It’s not reverence he shows either, and Tze Long would be hard pressed to describe his attitude as anything more precise than simple enchantment.

They barely manage to get to Victoria Peak before sunset. Just like the rest of the city, the mountain is flooded with people, all trying to get the best selfie before moving on, whereas James leans against the railing on one of the viewing platforms and merely looks. Tze Long steps up next to him, close enough to touch, forcing the bustling activity behind them to the back of his mind and tries to see his home through James’ eyes. Below them, countless skyscrapers stretch upwards like fingers, reaching out for infinity.

“What about where you live?”, James wants to know after a long while. “I want to see where you used to work. Where you grew up.”

He shakes his head after some deliberation. “We don’t have time for that”, he lies when in reality he’s not ready to face this part of his life again, especially not show it to a stranger of sorts. His past feels deeply personal somehow, his struggle to end up where he is now like a secret he’d better keep. Part of it is simple vanity – he wouldn’t like to imagine James telling his colleagues, telling him. And of course, the one person who shared this history with him has now passed away.

James’ eyes are on him, attentive, almost waiting. “Next time?”, he asks, sounding hopeful. Tze Long wonders what kind of impression he’ll take away from this short visit.

“Yes. Next time.” He’s not sure if there will be one, but he hopes he’ll feel differently about himself by then.

“What was he like?”

A deep breath. How is he meant to answer this question? “Kind but firm”, he offers and puts a new toothpick in his mouth. “No time for nonsense but always willing to listen if something was on my mind. Distracted, at times. Whenever he found a gift for me, he’d present it so proudly. He was happiest when he could teach me things, show me the world. When he couldn’t work anymore, he -” His voice breaks, so he stops talking. Despite it not being his fault, guilt had plagued his father for decades. Having to rely on his only son, witnessing Tze Long’s struggle took its toll on him just like on Tze Long himself, though it changed into fierce pride later on, once he became a Flying Tiger. But he remembers the forlorn stare into their empty cupboards, the reassurances of being able to mend clothes, shoes, self-image.

James is going to get a sunburn and it’s not going to be pretty. He hasn’t tanned much this summer yet and Tze Long wants to reach out to protect his skin from the merciless rays. To maybe run fingers through his luscious hair. “He sounds like a good father.”

“He was.”

And despite the serenity of the moment, James actually goes there: “Your description of him reminds me of someone.”

Tze Long fights down the urge to simply leave. He’s better than that. “I bet you won’t drink a whole glass of durian milk”, he switches topics and earns a side-glance he’s incapable of deciphering.

“- you should’ve seen his face when I told him to shove it, pure comedy, this dude was not used to anyone saying no to him, not with him built like a bloody fridge and that stupid fuckin’ tattoo on his forehead, something daft like carnivorous or edgelord, I don’t even remember, I only remember thinking: this lad must’ve randomly picked a word from the dictionary that sounded cool.”

Tze Long moves his own drink out of the range of James’ flailing arms but makes no move to interrupt him.

“And me, a foot shorter and seemingly harmless, refusing to budge? Well, you can imagine what happened.”

“I do hope you wiped the floor with him.”

“First he punched me in the throat, but yes, afterwards I most definitely wiped the floor but only because he tripped over some barbed wire, nearly shredded his entire dick and bled all over the fucking linoleum. That was the last time he tried to sell some fake insurance, I’m sure.”

Drunk James is adorable. He’s become a waterfall, largely unaware of himself not in an inconsiderate way but an endearing one, speaking his mind openly and demanding Tze Long’s full attention. He fills silences with anything and everything, after two cocktails already, and he goes deaf when Tze Long tells him that going on a plane while intoxicated might not be the best idea. They’re perched by the bar, sipping bitter liquor because today is just one of those days and let the soft pop music relax their muscles.

While he prattles on, rants about the next odd encounter, Tze Long gets distracted by the curve of his eyebrows and the hard jaw and he wonders whether he’s still interested. What he’d say to the suggestion of dipping into a hotel real quick. It’s less than an hour until he has to be at the airport, however, hardly enough time, but idly toying with the idea is fun nonetheless.

“Thank you for coming”, he eventually manages to interject while James takes a breath.

“Aye. Mike relayed the message and it sounded like you might get in trouble, or your colleague might. He’s off gallivanting around the Middle East somewhere I think, claims he’s busy doing recon or whatnot but I bet he’s lazing in the sun and resting his bones. Soon he’s gonna be the oldest bloke in the SAS, did you know? Fucker’s immortal. Some of the lads who bet on his retirement are gone themselves by now.”

Tze Long did not know this. He doesn’t know a lot of things about Mike. “I appreciate your help, in any way.”

“Believe me, your boss didn’t.” James grins and it makes him look years younger. “I might get shit for it but my major has my back. And I got yours. If anything else is up, let me know and I’ll travel half the world again.”

He has no doubt James would, and he tries to identify whether it’s a snipe aimed at him for texting Mike only, not him, but isn’t sure. His brooding is interrupted when he spots a familiar figure at the other end of the counter, glancing over and flashing him a wide smile. “Oh no”, he mutters to himself.

“I swear though, that bloody rotten egg fruit, whatever it’s called, I’m never touching one of those again, I still wanna throw up every time I burp.” James interrupts himself to follow Tze Long’s gaze. “What, someone making bedroom eyes at you?”

“Yes. He’s very charming, to be honest.” He sighs, shaking his head. Should’ve known better than to drag James to his usual club. “And very married.”

“That happen often?”

It’s too complicated to go into detail, so he nods. Having grandchildren continues to be one of the highest priorities in the life of a parent, and Tze Long has met many, many guys living a double life – one for society and their family, one for themselves. He’d rather not get involved with these men even if it means limiting himself.

“Want me to take care of it?”

The seemingly innocent question makes him huff in amusement. “Please don’t start a bar fight, I’d hate to get banned.”

“More than one way to show you’re not interested”, James mutters and true, he’s right.

Tze Long doesn’t even mind. He puts his toothpick aside.

They meet halfway between their chairs and James’ corners of his mouth are turned upwards when they do. He tastes of rum and tobacco and the tendrils of addiction pull at him enticingly at the reminder of what he’s given up; the background noise fades in favour of his own heartbeat and James is still smiling, never once stops. His smile feels like a thinly-veiled accusation and a self-satisfied victory simultaneously and yet Tze Long can’t get enough. James switches to his chair, actually settles on his thighs without breaking the heady touch of lips on lips, clearly uncaring of the spectacle they’re putting on. Tze Long’s hands stray to his sides and for once, he’s not picturing a different body between his palms.

“I think we’re good”, he murmurs after a while, after all decency is long overthrown.

“Hmm, no, he’s still looking”, James hums back without even opening his eyes once, smile widening, but when Tze Long withdraws, he relents and instead pulls him into a hug.

And it just overwhelms him. The rare feel of a warm body makes him realise he hasn’t deliberately, consciously touched another human being in days, reminds him of the empty apartment he’ll return to, chock full of memories and shards which don’t cut deep by themselves yet make up a fearsome blade as a whole; reminds him of the desperate loneliness which creeps up on him now and then, whenever he’s weak, whenever he lets it. He thinks of the eternal double check mark, message received, thinks of his colleagues’ triumphant faces as they recounted the successful mission without him.

He clings, hard, and only notices the supportive arms wrapped around him once his fingers have stopped shaking. He’s breaking down in the middle of the bar, visible to everyone, to people he knows, and the shame burns almost worse than his grief.

Regardless, James is still there. Whispering nothings, stroking his back soothingly, acting as if none of this was out of line. His warmth is painful because he’s unsure how to repay it, but right now he has no choice but to accept.

“It’s okay”, James tells him like he really believes it. “You’ll be alright.”

~*~

He turns out to be correct, even if it takes some time for Tze Long to wholly believe it.

A piercing stare accompanies the realisation together with a suffocating amount of information he’s expected to digest and memorise, and yet he couldn’t be happier. The office is nondescript and icy for his standards and he can already tell it’ll take some time to get used to this part of the earth.

“I am very happy to know you in our team”, Six finishes with a seriousness Tze Long respects. “Welcome to Rainbow.”

“It is an honour.” He matches her tone. “I’m looking forward to working with you, ma’am.” He knows when he’s dismissed, gets up and ready to start this new chapter of his life, but curiosity gets the better of him: “May I ask – am I the only one of my unit you’ve recruited?”

Six’ expression softens. The formal part is over, she can rest assured all her points have come across and therefore she allows herself some friendliness. “No. One of your colleagues will join us as well – Mei Lin Siu.”

He finds himself smiling. “That is an excellent choice, ma’am.”

“Funny. She said the same thing about you.”

~*~

England is cold, empty, quiet and boring. And Tze Long is surprisingly fine with it.

He traded comfortable warmth for considerably less rain – even if the Spanish operators give him an odd look over this statement – and exercising outdoors is less suffocating, less of a chore. Admittedly, he could do without winter but after having been enlightened about layers, sealing gloves and sleeves and other tricks which Mira and Jackal divulge gladly, it’s not that bad. Even if summer has him a little homesick now and then. Sometimes he also misses the liveliness of his home, the many faces just like his, the natural way people accept each other as an inevitability. Here, it happens that existing in a space earns him disapproving glances.

But it’s quiet. He sleeps like the dead, hasn’t been this calm in decades and finally finds enough time to really pursue hobbies he had to neglect previously: he reads for days on end, dabbles (and generally fails) in a few crafty endeavours, follows the news from the silence of his apartment, feeling secure, comfy, safe. He picks up cooking, much to James’ delight, and together they spend a weekend on xiao long bao, having to re-do the dough several times and despairing over the soup gelatin only to give up and attempt it again a week later, nailing it first try. And whenever the muted quality of this country threatens to overwhelm him, he puts on some music, a film, or simply invites James over.

He doesn’t have many complaints, not when he spends most of his free mornings in bed with a steaming cup of coffee by his side and phone in hand, the world under his fingertips. Still, it required some getting used to the way people treat each other, the blunt and direct style of communication, the many gestures which would be deemed horribly rude in Asia.

Tze Long idly ponders cultural differences while Mike hands him a bowl of rice, chopsticks simply stabbed into it.

Next to him, he can sense James’ eyes widening before he quickly snatches the utensils and holds them out to Tze Long instead. They share a secret, slightly embarrassed smile, just like they did when Mike presented him with four sample bottles of whisky from his favourite distilleries – he can’t expect everyone to be aware of common superstitions, but he would’ve guessed the social stigma around the number four would’ve been widespread enough to have reached Mike’s ears. Even Mark pulled a face in the background, and James elbowed him, accepting one of the bottles gratefully.

Mike is trying, that’s the part which counts, and Tze Long is fiercely appreciative: he hasn’t celebrated his birthday properly in an eternity, certainly not with colleagues which have become more than that over time, and certainly not with gifts as thoughtful as the ones he’s received (like the high quality tea from Mei Lin, and an entire book series of English classics from James). Mike is trying, and as he’s come to realise over the years, this doesn’t always amount to much. But it doesn’t matter, provided he manages his expectations.

Somewhere along the way, he’s stopped drinking up literally every single word dripping from his lips, stopped blindly accepting, stopped the worship. Mike is a friend. Mike is even a bit of a shit friend a lot of the time, yet his heart remains in the right place – which is a little distant, a little distracted, and far, far away from Tze Long’s.

“This is the best thing you’ve ever cooked”, he informs his gracious host matter-of-factly, and can spot the flattered happiness through the ensuing modesty. It’s certainly not the best thing he’s ever eaten, but his statement remains true nonetheless. Aniseed in curry is courageous and the result a little odd yet edible, and so complaining is the furthest thing on his mind.

When Mike is back to bustling around in the kitchen, Mei Lin quietly asks the other guests: “He really went all out. Does he do this often?”

“Never”, replies Seamus, sounding amused. He looks a giant next to Tze Long’s comparatively dainty teammate, though they seem to get along well. “He’s forgotten Mark’s and Jamie’s before, and gave me out-of-date rum truffles for my birthday.”

“Aren’t you on a diet?”, she asks, prompting a meaningful nod.

“He really cares about Tze Long, even if he’s not sure how to show it”, James interjects, sounding bored. “They’ve been friends for a long while, after all.”

“We have been friends for a long while”, Tze Long feels the need to point out. James’ eyes slide over to him, bore into his skull, almost intense enough to cause him to lower his gaze – but he doesn’t. He knows what it’s for, all the dismissive replies in the beginning, him acting as if the clown (whose humour meshed surprisingly well with his own, who was willing to undertake the same risks as him, who watched his every move) was invisible. If he could go back, he’d act differently. If he could go back, he wouldn’t spend a significant amount of his life chasing after a castle in the sky.

But he did, and now it’s done.

“We have”, he affirms, and instead of agreeing, James gets distracted by Seamus addressing him, and this simple fact shouldn’t bother Tze Long as much as it does. He doesn’t have a monopoly on him, he has to regularly remind himself of this. He didn’t earn the right to have one.

Joining Mike in the kitchen feels less like a conscious decision and more of an escape. “I can’t thank you enough”, he begins and is immediately interrupted by a scoff.

“You could lie and tell me this blobby pudding isn’t the most sorry-looking excuse for custard you’ve ever seen.”

“This custard looks delicious”, Tze Long lies smoothly and Mike’s gruff laugh mends his brittle soul a bit. They’ve learnt to interact with each other without any of the awkwardness prevalent in the beginning of Tze Long’s time in Rainbow.

“Good lad. And you don’t need to thank me, it’s the least I can do. For once, you could shut up and accept people being nice to you.” It’s ingrained in Tze Long to fight for the bill, react modestly to and dismiss compliments rather than accept them, refuse gifts a few times when receiving them. He opens his mouth to object, but once more Mike is faster: “I’ve received complaints about you, you know. You’re being too bloody nice – people just need to mention a book and you’ve already promised to let them borrow it, you give lifts to unsuspecting whiners and generally are too friendly. We’re in fucking England, no one knows how to deal with that shite here.”

Tze Long grins, even if he’s aware Mike isn’t purely joking. “Are you suggesting I’m not already playing my part in making our work environment… more toxic?”

The eye roll he receives is inordinately satisfying, yet his triumph doesn’t last. “No, lad, I’m telling you to go out and bloody take something for yourself. Something which you’ve wanted for a long, long time. You’re allowed, you know? You’re allowed to demand things.”

And this strikes a chord. The smile on Tze Long’s lips fades the further the words sink, float down, down, down into the murky depths of his subconscious which reacts with instant, intense panic. Because they only become louder the deeper they reach, their echo reverberating and creating a cacophony making it impossible to think straight. Unhelpfully, his conscious mind provides a solution, the one suggestion which he’s carried on his tongue for years, wrote on his forehead, the one truth he thought irrevocable: “Are you telling me to ask you out?”

The awkwardly-shaped sentence lodges in his throat, causes the gears in his head to grind and shriek, and it’s wrong, so wrong, if Mike says yes he’s never setting foot in his flat again, fuck the idolising, fuck professional relationships, he’ll curl up in ball and shake and shiver and shudder because no, it’s not what he wants, maybe something he never wanted in the first place.

While he’s still reeling from what’s raging on inside him, Mike throws him an almost pitiful glance. “Not me I’m talking about”, he grumbles. “I mean the one bloke whose friendliness you’ve always accepted without any protest.”

And isn’t that the fucking point?

It’s the one person who consistently made him lose face, no matter what, humiliated him with his displays of adoration Tze Long could never hope to repay, proved him unworthy with every breath he takes, and his presence burns under his fingernails, a constant itch chipping away at his honour because he deserves none of it and yet he wants. Oh he wants. He’s humbled by every easy laugh following disrespect, and the more this shadowy figure was pushed away, the harder it tried to keep up, and keeping it hazy is so much easier than allowing its entire being to invade every nook and cranny of his life.

Only -

That already happened a while ago, didn’t it?

James is outside, an unopened beer in his hand and smoking by himself because Seamus doesn’t endorse his addiction and Mei Lin and Mark hate the smell. He’s glowing in the setting sun, illuminated almost from the inside and Tze Long viciously wishes his brilliancy was contagious. “What’s wrong?”, he asks, unaware of the storm raging behind Tze Long’s unchanged exterior.

“I’m cold”, he replies, earning furrowed brows.

“It’s July.”

“Yes.”

They look at each other. James’ lips purse around the cigarette and Tze Long wants to grab the bottle and smash it on the asphalt, just to expend some of the energy throbbing through him. “Did Mike say anything? Are you okay?”

“I bought two tickets to Hong Kong.” And it’s out. With this, he’s handed himself over and there’s no going back.

“You’re going with him?” Carefully neutral. James stubs out the cigarette and takes out his key ring with its bottle opener attached. There’s a piece of string, too, displaying some of the decorative beads Tze Long recognises easily. The charm must’ve fallen off or broken after extensive use over the years.

“I wouldn’t want him to come along.”

Busy hands pause. He still doesn’t understand. “Mei Lin is accompanying you?”

“No.” They don’t have leave at the same time anyway. But he and James do. Always had.

Fingers twitch. Then slowly set the beer down on the stone steps behind them. He’s looking everywhere but at Tze Long, long hair falling into his eyes. “So -”

“I’ve been buying two ever since I joined Rainbow.” They both know how conscious he is of spending money.

“Jesus”, says James.

Tze Long is dizzy. He expected this moment to taste half-fermented, almost rotten, like a fruit ignored for too long, but instead it’s an explosion of refreshing flavour and pleasant sweetness, horrifyingly addicting. His face hurts and he realises that he’s grinning from cheek to cheek, must look like a lunatic if James’ expression is anything to go by. “Come with me. Please.”

And James seems to understand what he means, even if a frown tugs on his mouth and the face he makes is one of sorrow and not happiness, yet when Tze Long steps closer, James latches onto him like a drowning man.

His turmoil is far from appeased, but one thought prevails above all, forces his emotions to simmer down: I might not deserve this, he thinks, but he certainly does. He holds James until he’s shaking only with laughter, nothing else, the half-suppressed bouts of relief convincing him more and more of having made the right decision. They’re each other’s anchors, unwilling to let go, and beam at each other so brightly it blots out the sun.

“I’d love to”, James tells him in that rare, genuine tone of voice Tze Long has never heard him use with anyone else. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. I wouldn’t want anyone else by my side.” His lack of hesitation only increases James’ luminosity. “I’ll show you everything, James. I’ll show you all.” This seems to convince him, no doubt due to the far-reaching implications.

This time, when they kiss, Tze Long knows for a fact he won’t feel his stomach drop afterwards. And it’s mostly because he knows it won’t be their last one.

#rainbow six siege #smoke #lesion #smoke/lesion #fanfic #oneshot #commissions #this gave me the worst case of wanderlust #if I didn't portray anything correctly please let me know!!

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orangememory · 7 years ago

Note

Meng Zhi and Fei Liu being friends!

So I wrote this inspired by the part in the drama where Fei Liu allows Meng Zhi to finally touch his hair. Set post-canon. Warning for angstiness!

The land is caked with blood,even the fresh summer streams trickling down from the glaciers smell putrid toMeng Zhi.

They are on the last leg of theirstay here, before they return to Jinling, proud victors of the terrible waragainst Da Yu. They won in the bitter winter, and Meng Zhi has personallystayed back with his troops to cleanse the land, bury the dead and re-organisethe defence of the North.

But all that is a veiled excuse,as Master Lin has rightly pointed out, as he casually flits in and out, savingthe last couple of lives. Meng Zhi doesn’t want to go back to Jinling becausehe has no strength to face the Crown Prince. Meng Zhi couldn’t save the oneperson most precious to Xiao Jingyan, and the younger brother of his own heart.Lin Shu, for that is who he was, died valiantly and gloriously in the finalcharge against Da Yu, leaving a mess of grieving hearts behind.

Zhen Ping hid his pain among hisdaily errands, Master Lin behind his laughter, Meng Zhi with his duties, andthe Crown Prince with the sheer distance that had been put between them.

But there was one person who hurtopenly, and when Meng Zhi saw him, he felt the wounds in his skin rip open,fresh with blood again. Fei Liu, the mischievous child, would cry for hisSu-gege every day. Fei Liu, the child who loved to fight and fly had seeminglylost all hope in the world. He threw away any of the melons Zhen Ping would procurewith great difficulty. He barely left the tent, and even Master Lin could notconvince him to part from his Su-gege’s furs.

Meng Zhi has a son, his nephewthat he has adopted, and sees the child in little Fei Liu. He wishes he coulddo something, anything to help the boy, but all he can do is wallow in his owngrief.

Xiao Shu, why did you have to go?

XXXX

Meng Zhi is directing his men onthis fresh spring day, and the weather is so beautiful, that even the dog-tiredsoldiers cannot avoid the cheer, smiling and singing out loud. As Meng Zhismiles, he spots a lone, little figure walk slowly to the bank of the stream. Theboy doesn’t fly anymore, his martial arts rotting away inside his body becauseof the doom inside his heart.

It is time for Fei Liu’s bath,and Meng Zhi has seen him arrive like clockwork all this time. He knows Fei Liuused to run away from Li Gang and Auntie Ji when they even uttered the word ‘bath,’but now, he comes to the water on his own. Maybe it’s a balm to his young soul,maybe the ice-cold water is enough to numb his pain. At least, it works forMeng Zhi himself.

In a while, Fei Liu finishes andwalks back to the tent, his body drenched and his hair loose, matted and ugly.Meng Zhi worries for the child, that the cold winds will make him sick afterthe bath, but he has been rebuffed every time he has tried to put his cloak onFei Liu. It hurts Meng Zhi, that they have lost the bright spirit of this child.Meng Zhi would eat all the sour fruit in the world, if he could see Fei Liu flyagain.

As Meng Zhi shakes his head, hehears a screech and finds Master Lin being kicked out of Xiao Shu’s old tent,the print of a boot quite clear on his face. It is a never-ending story, MasterLin trying to coax Fei Liu to do things, to come back to normal but Fei Liunever listens, and Master Lin never uses his actual strength to defeat him –quietly taking all the punishments Fei Liu metes out.

“Aah, Master Lin, your martialarts are getting sloppier, this time you even have a mark on your face,” saysMeng Zhi, eyes crinkling with humour as he helps the physician up, trying tolighten the sombre mood. These moments of levity are rare, so Meng Zhi takesthem when he can.

Lin Chen grumbles, no he doesn’tneed help, thank you very much, but Meng Zhi picks him up anyway. He starts tochuckle when he spots an odd object in the physician’s hand, instead of hisusual, magic fan. A comb.

“Master Lin is experimenting withnew weapons or hairstyles? I hope it’s hairstyle, because I have had enoughcomplaints from my vice-generals about yours,” Meng Zhi adds with a guffaw.

Lin Chen rolls his eyes,brandishes the comb like a saber, and grins. “Oh, I’m just trying to help FeiLiu.”

Fei Liu with his hair? Meng Zhihas never bothered much, but now that he thinks back, for a long time, Fei Liu’shair has been free-flowing, growing ragged and they boy hasn’t neatened hisappearance in the longest time. Meng Zhi knows it is because of abjectdepression, but has never voiced his worries for the child to Lin Chen.

Lin Chen, ever observant and areader of people’s minds, quietly remarks, “If you’re wondering about Fei Liu,he…he has never liked to comb or tie his hair. Only Changsu was allowed totouch it, and he would comb Fei Liu’s hair every day in the morning, and tie itup. I am trying to teach him a normal routine, but there are…certain things FeiLiu still doesn’t have the heart to do. Getting him to eat alone was a majorachievement.”

Meng Zhi is left speechless. Inmany ways, he was hurting and still missing Xiao Shu, but for Fei Liu, who hadspent so many years by Xiao Shu’s side, even the little things brought him suchdeep hurt. Fei Liu had probably only known one father-figure in his life, oneperson who treated him with such kindness, and the fates had been cruel enoughto take him away too.

Xiao Shu, that silly boy, hebroke so many people on his way to the next world. The sudden onslaught offeelings pooled in Meng Zhi’s eyes, and he could dimly feel Master Lin pressingan object into his palm, and walking away. The sharp edges of the metal prickhis skin.

“I shall see if you have betterluck,” says Master Lin. And poof, he is gone.

Meng Zhi holds the comb tight, andgulps.

XXXX

At night, Men Zhi reaches XiaoShu’s old tent and enters without resistance. Fei Liu is curled into Xiao Shu’sfurs, and Meng Zhi can see that the boy is sweating from them, yet he remainsswathed in them. Fei Liu is turning pages of a war manual that he cannotpossibly read, smelling the old red ink annotations on the pages, trying tosmell Xiao Shu in them.

“Fei Liu, your Uncle Meng ishere, won’t you welcome me?” Meng Zhi tries to ask jovially, but of course, he isn’tgood at hiding things, so the pitch is high and unnatural.

“Su-gege not here,” comes thesniffling reply. “Uncle Meng come later.”

“Ah, I know your Su-gege is nothere! In fact, your Su-gege asked me to help you. All young, handsome childrenshould groom themselves, look what I came….”

Meng Zhi’s voice falters as hesees Fei Liu burst into sobs. “Su-gege not here! Su-gege never here!”

The boy’s tears trickle into thepages of the book, and the red ink starts to flow and stain the paper. Fei Liu’sheart is bleeding so badly, and all Meng Zhi wants to do is staunch it.

He doesn’t speak any words, butgoes close to Fei Liu, sits next to him, and lets him cry. Meng Zhi’s own tearsbegin to fall – and a faint memory resurfaces.

“He likes you. He never lets anyonetouch his hair!” Xiao Shu had remarked, laughing delightfully as Fei Liu hadbounded off after a pigeon.

Meng Zhi extends his hand, andsoftly begins to pat Fei Liu on the shoulder, gently moving up to touch hishair. Its greasy, matted, and smells like death.

Meng Zhi keeps patting it,silently, not saying a word to the sobbing boy, just comforting him in his ownway. He knows that if he speaks now, Fei Liu’s heart will break even more.

Fei Liu doesn’t shirk him offlike Lin Chen, but he keeps crying and repeating his refrain, sobbing until hiseyes can no longer stay open and he falls asleep.

Meng Zhi puts him to bed.

Xiao Shu, have mercy on this little one, is the last plea that MengZhi sends up to the gods before he leaves.

The comb is still on his person.

XXXX

It happens slow, and steady, butMeng Zhi starts visiting Fei Liu every day. He doesn’t notice that for each day,there is one less teardrop in the boy’s eyes – because Meng Zhi’s own are soblurry.

Meng Zhi never brings up the hairwith Fei Liu, instead trying to cheer him up in his own way – a toy he hadcarved, a funny defensive move, making fun of Lin Chen. Fei Liu starts eatingoranges and melons, one piece at a time. It is a wonder to Zhen Ping, whoprofusely thanks Meng Zhi.

Soon, the final tasks are done,and it will be time to depart for Jinling, a fact that Meng Zhi dreads. In twodays, they will leave this place of stunning beauty and godforsaken war, and hewill have to face the Crown Prince once again.

Stressing over the inevitable, MengZhi goes outside to take a stroll by the banks of the stream, when he finds FeiLiu sitting there, feet in the water, hair wet, so quiet. Meng Zhi feels a rushof paternal warmth and settles in next to the boy, patting his back.

“Back to Jinling?” Fei Liu askssolemnly. Meng Zhi affirms it, knowing that they will go back to Jinling, yes,but for Fei Liu and Master Lin, the journey will be in a completely differentdirection. He hopes they will come to visit, even though Langzhou and Jinlingare far from each other, and even though Xiao Shu is no longer in the world.

The next words out of Fei Liu’smouth stun Meng Zhi.

“Water-buffalo crying. Take careof water-buffalo. Su-gege miss him.”

Meng Zhi’s yes is awkward, stillrecovering from the easy way the child refers to the future Emperor, and amazementat the fact that Fei Liu has the time and the heart to have concern for theprince, far, far away. Our Fei Liu hasalways been very smart, Xiao Shu used to proudly declare, and Meng Zhi understandsit now.

“Uncle Meng,” Fei Liu continues, “Hair.”

“Hair?” Meng Zhi is puzzled.

Fei Liu shakes his head and cluckslike Master Lin, before reaching for Meng Zhi’s palm, and placing it on his head.

“Uncle Meng go. Do Fei Liu hairnow.”

A sudden wave of deep emotion strikesMeng Zhi as he realises what Fei Liu means. The depressed, broken child onlyallowed Su-gege, and him to touch his hair, and now, before he was set to goaway, Fei Liu was opening himself up to healing, accepting Meng Zhi’s kindness.Tears start rolling down Meng Zhi’s face.

“Uncle Meng not cry. Face notcute like Su-gege.” Fei Liu’s eyes are red, but his wan face cracks a slowsmile.

Meng Zhi starts bawling openly,as he curses Xiao Shu for teaching the child terrible jokes as well as how toinflect terrible pain on others, and not just physically.

Xiao Shu, if you’re watching, keep helping the child, protect him,he prays.

Amid tears, Meng Zhi calls a nearbyguard to bring him a comb, and the man rushes to get one, panting all the way.

When the comb finally arrives,Meng Zhi places his hand among the now fresh-smelling locks, and starts combingthrough them, willing his tears to stop and his heart to stop bursting withrelief.

“Uncle Meng, no braids,” Fei Liuinstructs anxiously, wincing as the comb pulls a tight tangle free.

Meng Zhi pats the boy’s head again,and makes sure he is real. If this simple act could help save a man and achild, he would do it, a thousand times over.

Xiao Shu, you’ve done many good deeds in this world, for you to beloved so deeply by so many, especially Fei Liu.

“Okay, xiao-Fei Liu, no braids.”

#Nirvana in Fire #lang ya bang #drabble #my writing #wanna be knifed?

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