Archive of Our Own ^beta

The clanging of bells resounded through the pillared hallways of the palace like the aural equivalent of thick, billowing smoke. There was no music to them. They filled Zhao Yunlan’s head like a warning, setting his nerves on edge.

“What’s that?” he shouted over the din, but the space at his side was empty. He turned back to see Shen Wei stopped in his tracks. “What?”

Shen Wei opened his mouth to answer, and the bells cut off again, leaving a ringing silence. A moment later, a keening cry went up that raised the hair on the back of Zhao Yunlan’s neck.

Shen Wei took off his mask and met Zhao Yunlan’s eye. He never took off his mask in public, not when he was wearing the Envoy’s robes. Zhao Yunlan swallowed at the gravity on his face and instinctively moved closer. Whatever was happening, it was momentous, and it was coming at a cost. He could already tell that much.

Heavy footsteps were heading their way, no doubt with palace guards attached. Zhao Yunlan grabbed Shen Wei by his cloaked shoulder and drew him through the nearest door so he could find out what the hell was happening before the rest of the palace tangled the Envoy up in its Machiavellian schemes. And despite the fact they’d been on their way to an audience with the King, Shen Wei let him.

The room they entered was muggy, the air filled with steam which muffled the noise from outside. Keeping hold of Shen Wei, Zhao Yunlan peered around. As best he could tell, they were alone. Even so, he kept his voice low. “Tell me,” said Zhao Yunlan. “What’s happening?”

“I need to get to the archives.” But Shen Wei didn’t pull away. Didn’t move at all.

Zhao Yunlan suppressed a shiver, despite the heat. “Why? Shen Wei?”

“I think—” Shen Wei closed his eyes, a far-away look on his face, then opened them again, blinking as he focused back on Zhao Yunlan. “It’s the Regent. He’s dead.”

Zhao Yunlan almost laughed with relief. Wasn’t that good? Didn’t they hate the Regent, with his self-serving deceptions and toadying, and the roadblocks he kept throwing in the way of progress? “Does that mean you can build your school now?”

Shen Wei looked grave. “It means there’ll be a new regent, and in the meantime—”

Zhao Yunlan’s relief turned to leaden resistance. In the meantime, the Envoy would be needed in Dixing to keep things running—that was what Shen Wei was saying. Zhao Yunlan didn’t know the intricacies of governance down here, but he had no doubt the old Regent would have left succession plans in place, probably terrible ones. Before Shen Wei could return to his life aboveground, he would have to ensure Dixing wasn’t lumbered with another albatross, and he’d have to do it by the book if he didn’t want to trigger a constitutional crisis. That kind of delicate politicking could take months.

Zhao Yunlan didn’t particularly like Dixing—it was fine to visit with Shen Wei, but it lacked fresh air, the internet, refrigeration, and any kind of stylish motorised transport. More importantly, his home and his people were in Dragon City. All his people but one, now—the one he needed most. He didn’t let himself stop and think. “Then I’ll stay, too. Half the palace will have their knives out. You need someone to watch your back.”

“You’re needed at the SID. One of us has to protect the Hallows.” Shen Wei looked tired, and his ordeal hadn’t even started. And here he was, trying to do everything on his own again. Zhao Yunlan had thought they’d moved past that.

“Da Qing and the others can take care of the Hallows. I’m not leaving you.” He scowled, but his conviction wavered. There were already rumours that Shen Wei was a traitor; Zhao Yunlan’s presence at his side might only serve to weaken his position. A distracting line of perspiration was tickling its way down Zhao Yunlan’s spine, and he looked around—half to buy some time. “What is this place, anyway?”

The palace—and most of Dixing—relied on fire for light, and there wasn’t a cool respite to be found in the whole complex, but this room was something else. They’d only just walked in here, and he was already drenched in sweat.

“The royal sauna,” said Shen Wei. “The water is heated over vents from underground lava pits.”

Zhao Yunlan laughed, despite everything. “There’s a sauna in this furnace of a palace?”

“I hear it’s rarely used,” said Shen Wei with a smile, but his expression quickly turned serious again, his eyes dark with concern. “You need to return to Haixing immediately. I’m not familiar with the laws for appointing a new regent—I wasn’t here when they were written—but in the current climate, there are bound to be complications. There will have to be an investigation into the late Regent’s death. If you stay—”

Zhao Yunlan tightened his hold on Shen Wei and shook his head, trying to deny Shen Wei’s reasoning, to out-stubborn him, but dammit, he was right. Zhao Yunlan had tried to make nice with the various denizens of the palace, he’d tried to build bridges here, as if he could single-handedly change how Haixing was regarded by those who resented it. But at the end of the day, he hadn’t changed anything, and they both knew it. Hell, he could renounce Haixing altogether and swear allegiance to Dixing, and most of them still wouldn’t trust him. If he stayed, there was every chance someone would try to make the old Regent’s death a murder, and Zhao Yunlan—the foreigner, the human—a suspect, to bolster public opinion against Haixing and undermine the Envoy.

He growled and threw up a hand in frustration. It didn’t matter how much he wanted to stay at Shen Wei’s side; his support was less than worthless here.

If Shen Wei were more high-handed, less law-abiding, he could appoint a new regent unilaterally, set up schools and hospitals, and arrange everything as he saw fit, Dixing’s laws be damned. But a benevolent dictator was still a dictator. Shen Wei knew that as well as anyone. Unless everything happened through the proper channels, he would be a traitor, forcing his beliefs on an unwilling populace, proving his detractors right. Especially when he then left to return to Dragon City.

Zhao Yunlan met his gaze and saw desolation there, a silent illustration of how dangerous the road ahead would be, how long it might take. He knew he shouldn’t add to the difficulties Shen Wei was facing, but he couldn’t keep the plea out of his voice. “Shen Wei.”

Find another road. There had to be one, a way that let them stay together. If Shen Wei left these ingrates to sort their own mess out... But Shen Wei could never do that, and Zhao Yunlan would never ask it of him. Was ashamed to have even thought it.

Shen Wei was pale, his expression rigid, but his eyes burned dark. He stepped closer and put back his hood, and the steam formed a damp cocoon around them. It was probably the only place in the palace as private as their bedchamber. Zhao Yunlan grabbed him and did his damnedest to ignore the ragged desperation in the way their mouths came together, both of them sucking and biting, their lips hot and slick. This wasn’t goodbye!

He clenched his hands in Shen Wei’s robes, grateful for the steam that meant he couldn’t tell if his eyes were stinging from sweat or tears. “I hate that I can’t help you with this.”

Despite his best efforts, his words came out choked.

Shen Wei brushed Zhao Yunlan’s sweat-damp hair back with a shaking hand and kissed him again, harder, and Zhao Yunlan felt it right to his core. It was difficult to believe that only an hour ago they’d woken up in each other’s arms. Zhao Yunlan had teased Shen Wei as if they had all the time in the world.

“If there’s anything I can do, anyone I can send to help, you’ll send a message,” he said, to be sure.

Shen Wei nodded.

“And when you’re finished here, you’re coming back to Haixing.”

“Yes.” Shen Wei swallowed.

Zhao Yunlan needed to believe him. The alternative was too bleak to contemplate, impossible to bear. “If you don’t, I’m coming to get you,” he said fiercely. “I don’t care if I can’t see the fucking gateway. I’ll throw myself through it anyway. No, I’ll make Lao Chu bring me.”

“You won’t have to. This isn’t the end, I promise.” Shen Wei put his hand over Zhao Yunlan’s fist, but he sounded more determined than sure. “Zhao Yunlan, I have to go.”

The clamour outside was penetrating even the sauna now, and he was right, they couldn’t delay any longer. The more time that passed before Shen Wei arrived on the scene, the greater the chance of things spiralling out of control. Besides, there was nothing more to be said. All that remained was for Zhao Yunlan to let him go.

“Shen Wei, you—There’s no going back for me.” From them, from who he’d become. Being with Shen Wei had changed his worthless life, and he refused to contemplate an end to them. He wouldn’t let it happen. Somehow he loosened his hands and let the robes, heavy with moisture, fall. Then he stood back and forced a cocky grin, however false it felt. “So I’ll see you soon.”

“Yes.” Shen Wei replaced his mask and hood. “Can you find your way to the gate?”

“Don’t worry about me.” Zhao Yunlan patted his shoulder, touching him for one last self-indulgent moment. Then Shen Wei opened the door, and together they walked back into the bustling but relatively cool passageway. “Go get ‘em.”

Shen Wei nodded once, his hood bowing his head like the weight of the world, and turned.

Zhao Yunlan didn’t watch him walk away. He couldn’t. He told himself it was strategy: staring at the Envoy would only draw attention and hinder his escape, so he took the nearest hallway to the left, keeping his strides casual and relaxed, and made himself disappear into the crowd.

END