Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Harry came back from Mouse’s afternoon walk to find an opulent car parked in front of his building, right where the cartoon jack-o-lantern his neighbors put was clearly visible. Since the fancier the car, the worse the trouble that was afoot, Harry drew in a deep breath and prepared his business face while still out of the visitors’ field of vision, readying himself for anything that could range from a rescue mission to solving an international incident. Mouse, the smart pooch that he was, picked up his mood and nudged his hand, earning him some well-deserved head scratches. 

The chauffeur, a tall, burly man in the corresponding uniform, got out of the car and opened the door. He didn’t insult the passenger by offering her his hand to help her, though he remained in a solicitous posture. Harry’s first thought upon recognizing her was that the universe must be too bored to start throwing that kind of curves at him so late in the afternoon. 

“Ancient Mai. Here. In person.” Harry mumbled to Mouse. “It’s gotta be the apocalypse.”

He had been so caught up in that idea that he almost failed to notice her companion, a young-looking man in white who joined her a few seconds later. They exchanged a few words before spotting him as he crossed the street, still half a block away. 

Harry didn’t pick up his pace, but he smiled sheepishly, raised a hand, and waved his fingers hello. While the chauffeur didn’t dignify that with any of reaction, Ancient Mai pursed her lips in judgment. On the other hand, the young man, hands behind his back, smiled and nodded at him. He was handsome—not fairy-handsome, though—and that smile made him seem approachable. His was the kind of face that told a small, lost child that it was safe to ask for help. Whether said trust was warranted, it was yet to be seen, though. 

This young man seemed to also be either of Chinese or of Chinese descent, and he wore a white band on his forehead with cloud motifs sewn on it. A long-forgotten passage Harry had read at some point in his life made an attempt to come up to the surface upon seeing it, struggling against the fog of years. Ancient Mai’s decision to start talking didn’t help. It frustrated him not to be able to give his mind enough time to fetch the knowledge. However, at this moment, he’d better remain aware of his surroundings. 

“Wizard Dresden,” she said before Harry could ask to what he owed the honor. “You have before you Lan Sizhui, one of the most accomplished cultivators of the Lan Clan.” She then turned to her companion. “Master Lan, this is Wizard Dresden. Is this the one you seek?”

She said it as if she couldn’t believe it—rude—but also, and this was the most surprising part, as if she actually respected this Master Lan, youth and all. 

“He is,” Master Lan replied, bowing hello to Harry, his hands now cupped in front of him. “A pleasure, Wizard Dresden,” he said in well-practiced English.

He also bowed to Mouse, who bowed back, lowering his head between his paws. 

Dang it, that was cute. But, also, the dog not flagging him as an immediate threat put Harry enough at ease and convinced him to act like the adult he was, even if he didn’t want to. 

“Likewise,” Harry replied, bowing back the best he could. “Say, if this is official Council business, we can continue the conversation upstairs. I have cocoa,” he added because, hell’s bells, if he was going to be a host, he was going to be a good one—if only to annoy the present company. 

“Even though I’m here, it’s not official Council business just yet,” Ancient Mai said.

“But I would love some cocoa,” Master Lan interjected before she could continue. 

With a grin, Harry obliged and got his key out to lead the guests to his apartment. He thought he was beginning to find this Master Lan agreeable. 

The chauffeur remained downstairs in the car but the other two followed their host inside. Harry led the way up the stairs—just one high-caliber magic practitioner was enough to send the elevator plummeting to its doom; imagine three. Master Lan helped Ancient Mai, holding her by the elbow, and Mouse closed the procession. As they did, Harry went through what he had read about cultivators once upon a time. 

When he first heard about them, he thought that they were farmers, which earned him a hearty laugh from his then-mentor Ebenezar McCoy.

“What they cultivate is energy—qi, they call it. They’re powerful warriors and a few of their clans are sought-after allies to the White Council.”

Then, Ebenezar gave Harry a book where he learned about how these people flew on their swords into the sunset, which had sounded very cool and was the one reason he remembered most of it. He bet Wardens couldn’t do that. Anyway, there had also been a roll call of the most important Cultivation Clans, which quoted the Lans as one of the most powerful families in the business, both in strength and wealth. 

In short, if Ancient Mai hadn’t been there, Harry would have asked for an intensive training course on sword riding. Perhaps, if he played well his cards… When they reached his apartment, Harry made a show of lowering his protective wards just to give himself time to think how to make his request. 

A short while later, both his guests shared Harry’s larger sofa while he sat on a single chair in front of them, each holding a steaming cup of hot cocoa. Mister had chosen Master Lan’s lap as his new bed, and pressed his face against the young man’s knee, snoring with the abandon of a kitten cuddling up with its littermates. 

Master Lan scratched the cat’s head with one hand while he took happy sips of cocoa. Ancient Mai, on the other hand, stared down at her mug with disdain. She did drink it in the end, though, clearly not wanting to seem impolite. 

As he drank from his own mug, Harry wondered who exactly this man was, capable of making someone who hated his guts act like this with just his gentle demeanor. How much sought-after were this sought-after allies Ebenezar told him about? What could they want with ol’ little him?

“Thank you. It was delicious,” Master Lan said, placing his empty cup on the table. 

Relieved, Ancient Mai hurried to do the same, although her mug remained mostly full. 

“I’m glad you liked it,” Harry said. “I can write down the brand for you if you’d like. You’ll find it in most supermarkets in Chicago.”

“I would love to.” 

And that was the end of the niceties—which had been, indeed, nice for a change. 

“So, to what do I owe the honor?” Harry asked. He kept his eyes on his guests at the same time he scratched Mouse’s back. The temple dog had sat down next to him as an undaunted guardian. Harry could only hope to look as cool as he felt. 

 “Master Lan has a request for you,” Ancient Mai said. “I was only asked to make the introductions.”

On the one hand, that meant why she had been in such a hurry to get things over with when they met downstairs. On the other, did that mean she could have waited in the car with the driver? That would have been golden. 

Don’t get distracted, Dresden, he told himself and went back to pay attention. 

“What kind of request?” 

Master Lan grew serious. “A member of the Chicago magical community opened a portal in time to several centuries ago and brought an important person, a foundational figure for the Lan Clan, to the present. We would like to hire you to find him and send him back.”

“And deliver the culprit for a fit punishment,” Ancient Mai said. “Before you ask, yes, this task has been sanctioned by the senior members of the White Council,” she added, for sure hating to imply that Harry wouldn’t be in trouble for this. 

On the one hand, ‘a fit punishment,’ was Council-speak for beheading, of course, because swimming against the currents of time was a big no-no. On the other hand…

“Shouldn’t you be sending the wardens to deal with this instead? We’re talking about a big violation of the laws of magic. Besides, wouldn’t sending someone back in time mean that I’d have to open the doors for a second time?” 

“The portal remains open,” Master Lan replied. “Part of your task is to close it once you’re done with the primary objective. As of your other question, the Lan Clan Elders demand the task to be done by a local with familiarity with the area, a renowned magical prowess, and a talent for improvisation. We’ve done our research and believe you’re our man.”

Despite the blush extending over his face and the swelling of his chest, Harry did his best to maintain composure and a professional attitude. 

“When you put it that way,” he murmured right before taking another sip of cocoa.

Master Lan’s smile grew a bit warmer. “I also believe the both of you will get along.” He fished something out of his pocket and offered it to Harry. “Here. Give him this. He’ll understand you’re there to help.”

Harry took the small clay reproduction of a long, white radish, its top linked to a gold chain. The body was carved with a few Chinese characters he couldn’t read, but they looked neatly made. Someone had spent hours of their life crafting this silly pendant.  

Then, Ancient Mai announced the catch. “You have until the next sunrise. If you haven’t brought in the culprit by then, the Wardens will take care of it.” 

The way she said it made Harry think she wouldn’t be sorry if he got caught in any resulting crossfire. 

“Naturally, you’ll receive proper compensation.” Master Lan’s bright smile provided a heavy contrast to Ancient Mai’s not-so veiled threat. “One part now and the rest once you’re done.” He accompanied his words with a thick envelope he took out of his expensive-looking white jacket.

Even though he didn’t want to seem mistrustful, Harry had to take a peek inside. The envelope was, indeed, full of bills that his bank account would appreciate. 

“Well, I guess we have a deal,” he replied. 

“I appreciate your readiness,” Master Lan said. “However, we have two more things to address.” Gently, without waking the cat, he set Mister on the sofa. Then, he stood up and went to Harry, holding a yellow piece of paper between his fingers. It had more Chinese characters in black ink written on it. “If you’ll excuse me…”

“What for?” 

Harry got his answer when Master Lan pressed the talisman against his throat. Harry felt a magic current in the place where the paper touched his skin. The jolt stopped instantly, however, and, when he scratched his neck, the paper was gone too.

“What was that?”

“An amulet that’ll help with the language barrier,” Master Lan said. “I like to call it the Babel Fish Charm.”

“I understand you’re a man of culture, Master Lan, but a heads-up would’ve been appreciated,” Harry said, doing his best not to pout. He did notice, however, Ancient Mai raising her eyebrows. “Can I help you?” 

“You just spoke perfect Chinese,” she answered. 

Without a reason to doubt her, Harry touched his throat again. “Holy—! I’d never done that. Am I doing it again? What if I need to talk in English? How long will the effect last?”

“Twenty-four hours,” Master Lan said. “Beyond the assigned deadline. The charm’s been extensively tested and we haven’t seen any side effects, either. You’ll speak the language you’re spoken to while the effect is on, so don’t worry about being unable to talk to your neighbors.” 

“Man, this is amazing.” Maybe he could get some extra cash in the more touristic areas between the end of the mission and the magic wearing off. “What’s the second thing you mentioned?”

Master Lan’s sudden rueful look made Harry feel like he wasn’t going to like the next part. “This personage is dreadfully afraid of dogs.” He glanced at Mouse. “I’m afraid we’ll have to insult your companion and ask him to remain aside.” 

Well, yes. Harry didn’t like that, but it was less bad than what he expected. 

“Sorry, boy,” he said to Mouse, who scoffed. “Besides, you like spending time with the Carpenters, don’t you? I’m sure they’ll let you stay.”

Mouse scoffed again, this time sounding somewhat more resigned. 

“Thank you,” Master Lan said, although addressing Mouse. Then, he turned to Harry. “We’ll leave it in your hands now.” 

“Don’t mess it up,” Ancient Mai whispered on her way out. “The Lan Clan is extremely important. They could have handled this themselves, but chose to ask you for some reason.”

“Important enough to make the White Council withhold the wardens,” Harry mumbled. There had to be something else behind this—something big and ugly, given his luck. An elaborate trap, maybe. Yet, the weight of the envelope in his pocket was louder than his survival instinct’s. As a White Council-sanctioned task, this was a most delicate matter. Chances of literally losing his head were about the same either way, so he might as well get paid for it.  “I won’t mess it up,” he promised, more to himself. 

Ancient Mai grunted what Harry chose to interpret as her farewell. 

With his guests gone, he went to make a phone call, hoping to convince Michael to take care of Mouse overnight despite the late notice. 

Only then, Harry realized that he never asked what the person he should find looked like—or even his name. 

Twilight fell as Harry got ready to leave.

“Aren’t you glad of having me around?” Bob asked from the copilot’s seat, where his skull had been carefully strapped. “Hey, watch the drooling!” he exclaimed when Mouse, who had taken over the entire backseat, went over Bob to get his muzzle out of the copilot’s window. 

Harry smiled at the image as he adjusted the rearview mirror, then started the engine.

“Alright, here we go. To the Carpenters’!” First gear changed to second gear as they drove through the Halloween-decorated streets. For a second, Harry had forgotten it was Halloween Eve. This was going to be a night, with everything he had going on plus the increased magical activity. “So, Bob, what can you tell me about the Lan Clan?” 

“I’m guessing that’s you ignoring the drooling problem.” 

“Come on, Bob. Mouse’s behaving. Although, I can put you in the glove compartment if you want. That’ll keep you dry.”

“Ugh. Pass. Regarding your question, while the Lans have a reputation of being uptight, they’re also among the most righteous. All thanks to this old-timey guy called Hanguang-jun who taught his students to help those in need even if they couldn’t cough up the cash.”

“Okay. On the one hand, that’s admirable. On the other, the privilege of not having to work to eat is showing.”

“Speaking of privilege, I bet you can’t guess what he did next.”

“What?” Harry asked after Bob made too-long a pause.

“He married a necromancer with a terrible reputation.”

“I struggle to think of a necromancer with a good reputation,” Harry answered without missing a beat.

“This one got one—after the marriage, that is. Before that, thousands upon thousands were killed, graves were dug up, corpses walked all around the evil lair, etcetera.” 

“And this necromancer got a recovery from that?”

“Hanguang-jun’s reputation and standing were that good. Also, they helped a lot of people together, so I guess that balances the scales.” 

“I feel I should be taking notes. Either way, the energy signature of a cultivator should be different from a wizard’s, right? Can you track it?”

“Harry, Mouse can do that, you know?”

No, Harry hadn’t known—but he wasn’t going to admit it. “That’s the thing,” he said instead. “The person I’m looking for is, and I quote, ‘dreadfully afraid of dogs’. That’s why the client requested not to involve Mouse.”

“I see,” Bob replied. “You said it was also a very important historical figure, right?”

“Foundational, according to the client. Someone who will get along with me.”  

At this point, any piece of information could be useful.

“I see, I see. Important, historical, will get along with you, afraid of dogs… Mmm….” Bob’s eye sockets lit up. “Huzzah! I know who you’re looking for!”

“Who?” Harry asked more annoyed at Bob’s second pause for effect.

“The necromancer I’ve been telling you about!”

So, time-traveling magic and necromancy in the same mission? And on October 30th? Joy.

“On the plus side,” Bob continued, “now you know what you’re doing.”

“Joke’s on you,” Harry muttered, eyes focused on the road. “I never know what I’m doing.” 

Harry spent the rest of the trip wondering whether Ancient Mai would be so twisted as to set him up like this on purpose; Mouse, at peace with the universe receiving the wind on his face, and Bob’s eyes glowed in his skull at the rhythm of some tune he was humming. 

Still about twenty minutes away from the Carpenters’ thanks to all the traffic caused by people attempting to go to costume parties, Bob interrupted his song. “Harry! Turn right on the next intersection!”

“Wha—?” 

“Someone’s summoning ghosts by the handful. I see them passing by, all of them in the same direction—and I can also see the energy threads binding them. They’re strong, skillfully made. Beautiful, if you press me. Therefore, either that’s our guy or you’re about to score some extra points with the White Council for stopping whatever shit’s going on.” 

The traffic was so slow that the spirit of intellect finished his speech before they reached the corner and with ample time for Harry to make his call. He decided to take that turn and follow the ghosts, entering a less busy street. A few minutes later, they were parking on the curb in front of a cemetery. Because of course.

The cemetery was already closed to the public, but when had that stopped anyone with enough determination and enough raw magical power? Harry got off the car alongside Mouse, straightened his duster, placed Bob’s skull in the crook of his elbow, grabbed his staff, and marched toward the entrance. 

“Listen, gang. We need to watch out and be ready for the kinds of weirdos a graveyard attracts this time of year. People think they can come and do rituals—which they can, technically, but—”

Harry never got to finish that phrase before the main gate burst open. A bunch of teenagers dressed in black—the aforementioned weirdos—came out running and screaming, leaving the door open. Harry managed to intercept one of them.

“Hey! Hey! What’s going on?”

“Ghosts! Oh, my god, so many ghosts!”

“Wasn’t that what you came to see?” Bob asked.

The kid didn’t even react to the talking skull, probably thinking it had been Harry himself doing a ventriloquist act. Although he was probably too scared to think at all. 

“Not like this! Please! I need to see my mom!”

Before he got out of the boy’s way, Harry slipped a business card into the pocket of his jacket. “If, after today, you or your friends start seeing anything out of the ordinary, anything at all, give me a call, alright? I can help.”

The boy gave the faintest nod and ran away, disappearing into the night with his friends. None of them seemed to be harmed for real, but with these things, it’d be best to cover all bases. In an ideal world, he would’ve performed a thorough check on them right then, but he had a necromancer to find before sunrise. At the moment, this was what he could do to thank them for sparing him from climbing the wall—he was getting too old for those stunts. 

“Alright, Bob. Where to?” Harry asked as he strolled in. 

“Go straight this path. When you start hearing the flute, follow the song.”

“The flute?”

“In technical terms, it’s a dizi.”

“Ah. A transversal flute?”

“Harry, did you just speak Chinese?” 

“Oh, right. The charm. I’ll be speaking the language I’m spoken to for the next several or so hours. I didn’t know it could be triggered with one word.”

“Tell me the colors of the sky and the trees.”

“Black and black at this time of day. What for?”

“Your charm works even with High German!” Bob snickered. “So fun!”

“It’s for work.”

“Modern Turkish too, huh?”

“Stop it.”

“Fine, fine.”

Harry shook his head and kept on walking. After a few steps, he asked, “How many ghosts are we talking about?” 

Bob’s eyes flickered. “At this point, closer to a thousand than I would like.” 

“Of course. Anyone we know?”

“Nope.”

“Any hostiles?”

“So far no. But I make no promises regarding the one summoning them.” 

Harry made a mental inventory of his gear and congratulated himself for bringing most of it—shield bracelet, blasting rod, and even a spare potion—just in case. 

He heard the dizi soon after. The melody it played was soft and melancholic. Sweet, even. Nothing in it telegraphed the dangerous necromancer Bob had talked about. Which didn’t mean much. 

Once Harry turned around a corner, the famous necromancer came into view, standing next to a mausoleum. Early twenties, long fingers dancing over a black dizi, and long, black robes fluttering behind him. He was tall, although not as tall as him, and had his long, dark hair pulled in a high ponytail.  Despite the lamps around them being in a fixed position, the shadows gave the impression of dancing to his tune, and the atmosphere felt charged in a powerful way Harry had never felt before.

“Yup. That’s your guy,” Bob whispered. 

“I gathered as much, thanks,” Harry whispered back. 

The necromancer stopped playing and looked up at them with bright, intelligent eyes and, when he lowered the instrument, his mouth formed a huge grin that broke the ominous scene and his delicate features became even more alluring, although in a human and not fairy way, to Harry’s relief. 

“Hello,” he called, waving a hand up above his head. “Could you by any chance tell me where I am?”

Harry made a sign for Mouse to stay behind a wall before approaching, staff in hand, aiming for a wise-yet-friendly neighborhood wizard look. 

“Hi, there! Most happy to help. My name is Harry Dresden. I’m a wizard. You’re in a city called Chicago, far away from your home town both in space and time, actually.” He made a pause to let the gravity of his words sink in. “You’re a few centuries in the future, in fact. But not to worry! Master Lan sent me to find you and send you home.”

The necromancer tilted his head. 

“Which Master Lan, specifically?”

“His name is Lan Sizhui,” Harry replied as he handed over the small clay radish on its chain. “He said to give you this.”

The necromancer’s eyes widened first in surprise, then in recognition. He reached out for the radish and turned it around in his dexterous fingers until he found the characters carved on it. Then, his face went from a sweet smile to a grin and, finally, he threw his head backward for a loud laugh.

“It must be a very funny inside joke,” Bob whispered.

“Quiet,” Harry warned him.

“Very well. If he sent you, then you must be okay.” Still grinning, the necromancer placed the radish and the chain in a pocket inside his sleeve and leaned forward for a better look at the skull in Harry’s arm. “Hello, there. Who’s your friend?” 

“This is Bob. He’s a spirit of intellect.” 

“Wei Wuxian,” the necromancer replied. “But you knew that already.”

“Of course,” said Harry, who hadn’t known that yet.

“I’m so relieved to find someone I can communicate with. Do you have any idea how many ghosts I’ve had to summon in order to find someone I could talk to?”

“A lot?”

“A lot! You know, I tried with the living first. I think I made some friends, but I couldn’t get my point across at all! I said one thing, they understood whatever and their pronunciation was all wrong! Someone gave this to me at some point, though. What is it?” 

Harry unfolded Wei Wuxian’s piece of paper, took a look at the English text on it, and promptly gave it back, all while keeping his professional demeanor. “Congratulations. You won third place in a costume contest. It’s something people do around here this time of year.” 

“Only third place? A costume?” Wei Wuxian hit his fist against his open palm. “Ah! I see. That explains why everyone's clothes are so weird. But also that nobody dresses like this anymore, doesn't it? A shame. I’m the height of fashion back at home. Are you the height of fashion in your hometown, Master Dresden?” 

Nonchalant, Harry shrugged. “To be honest, I follow my own drum—although I like to think of myself as more stylish than most.” 

Bob chuckled, which earned him a most terrifying wizardly glare. 

Wei Wuxian snorted. “You two are funny!” 

Harry shook his head. This Wei Wuxian really was easy to amuse. At least, he wasn’t on a mission to kill anyone or to destroy the city, always a good start. However, Harry had yet to complete the job. 

“Thank you. Now, to send you back.”

“Sure. As soon as I find my husband.”

“Your husband?” 

Wei Wuxian pouted. “My husband! He and I were kidnapped together!” He folded his arms. “The weird thing here is that Lan Zhan hasn’t found me. Maybe he’s caught up winning one of those contests you told me about. Either that or he’s helping someone in trouble. He’s that kind of person,” he added with a carefree shrug that somehow matched the now proud expression on his face. “My third choice is that he’s hunting down the person who brought us here. Or perhaps he’s doing everything at the same time.” 

Well, no one commented on that during the briefing. But it wouldn’t be Harry’s life without a complication or two to keep him on his toes. Either way, allowing another fish out of temporal water to roam around Chicago unsupervised would be a bad idea. Most of all if said fish carried a sword and had a tendency to meddle. Not to mention that Harry also needed to hunt down the fool opening time portals.

“No problem,” Harry said. “If you have anything of his, I can cast a tracking spell.” 

“If I have—? Ah! His headband! I’ve got it tied up around my—”

Harry didn’t get to find where Wei Wuxian had tied up his husband’s headband. Before he knew it, he was on the floor, next to the necromancer, and pressed down by a very fluffy and very heavy weight that threw itself at them with the urgency of a pixie targeting a pizza slice. 

“Mouse? What—?”  Bob’s yelling as he landed in the nearby bushes echoed in Harry’s ears when he looked up to see two darts embedded on the mausoleum wall next to them. Darts. Their attacker had dared to go against a full-fledged wizard, a necromancer with a list of war crimes as long as his hair, a temple dog, and a spirit of intellect, and he used something as pedestrian as darts? “I’m counting that as an insult,” Harry muttered. 

“Is this a bear?” Wei Wuxian began as he tried to push Mouse away—a fair assessment, to be honest. It was only when Mouse sniffed his face and gently licked his cheek that the necromancer’s denial shattered, making him go as rigid as one of the corpses he used to raise. 

“Hell’s bells. Mouse, go get whoever tried that shit. I’ll handle things here.” Immediately, Mouse jumped away and Harry busied himself grabbing Wei Wuxian by the shoulders to shake him. “Come on, man. Put yourself together!”

“D-dog!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed, holding to his flute for dear life. “Dog! Hanguang-jun! Help!” He made himself small and closed his eyes tight. “Lan Wangji! Lan Zhan!” 

Seeing that Wei Wuxian would not get on his feet on his own, Harry sighed and grabbed him like a sack of potatoes, throwing him over his shoulder.

“Should I charge extra for this?” he wondered when Mouse barked in the distance, which prompted Wei Wuxian to start thrashing all over him, almost kicking him in the face. 

Yeah, he definitely should, he decided when the dizi failed to impale his ear by an inch. 

Mouse came back to find his master rubbing Wei Wuxian’s back while the latter curled up against a wall closer to the entrance. He was breathing into a paper bag Harry had shoved in his pocket after eating a muffin earlier that day. 

“It’s fine. You’re safe now.”

“No! It’s not fine!” Wei Wuxian said through a pout, looking at Harry with eyes brimming with unshed tears. “I called for my husband to rescue me and he didn’t come! He always comes no matter what! Where is he?” he asked, his voice cracking under sincere distress. After a beat of silence, the sound of leaves crunching under Mouse’s paws distracted him. “Oh, what’s that?” 

Harry placed his hands on the sides of Wei Wuxian’s head and had him turn toward the wall. This guy’s attention span was worse than a pixie’s. 

“Don’t move. Close your eyes and don’t ask questions. Just trust me, alright?”

“Wh—?”

“What did I say? Keep on breathing. I’ll be right back.”

With an upset-yet-wary expression, Wei Wuxian turned back to the wall and continued to breathe into the paper bag, even though he didn’t seem to need it as much as before. Meanwhile, Harry went to meet Mouse. The dog had understood the assignment and angled himself to stay out of Wei Wuxian’s sight. He did seem a bit sad at being denied a new friend, but his body language communicated that he would survive. To help him overcome this difficult moment, Harry gave him extra enthusiastic scratches behind his ears.

“Good boy,” he murmured, earning himself some tail wagging. “What do you have there?” Obedient, Mouse dropped the strands of hair wrapped around a piece of cheap fabric he got from the attacker. “Fantastic. We’ll use this to find Dart Guy later.” 

Mouse already knew that, for sure, but Harry figured it might help build his confidence back. 

“You’ll also help me find Lan Zhan, right?” came a whiny voice behind them. Wei Wuxian hadn’t turned to look at them, but that wasn’t going to stop him from participating. 

“Actually, finding your husband is first priority,” Harry said. “We don’t even know if the person who threw the darts at us has anything to do with your being here.” Ah, he’d better come clean. “Let’s say that there’s no shortage of people who take the things I do a bit too personal.”

“You too? We should start a club! Haha!” 

Despite the apparent levity and laughter, there was an undertone in Wei Wuxian’s voice that told Harry that was a topic to elaborate upon with some alcohol running down your veins—or maybe he was projecting. Either way, a change of topic sounded like a wise move. “So, you said something about a headband, right?” 

“Yup. Give me a second. Now it’s your turn not to look,” Wei Wuxian added with a snicker.

Harry opened his mouth—and closed it promptly when he figured out the implications. Thus, he followed the request not to look and busied himself preparing the tracking spell, while he repeated to himself that the headband was just a fancy piece of cloth, and no one would use it for any other ends. 

“Here!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed after a moment. 

Harry turned around to find him standing up, more disheveled than before, and holding a white ribbon with embroidered clouds, similar to the one around Lan Sizhui’s forehead. Swallowing a sigh and, with all the stoicism he could muster, he reached out to grab that headband—only for Wei Wuxian to yank it back. 

“Oh. Sorry. I didn’t realize you’d have to touch it. It’s a sacred thing for the Lan Clan. Only a spouse or close family member can touch it.” He closed his eyes and turned up his nose. “And I’m not sure I’m ready to share Lan Zhan with a second wife.”

Harry gaped at that, unsure at first whether he should feel offended or relieved. Once his braincells engaged, he opted for the second. In the meantime, Wei Wuxian’s pursed lips broke into another loud bout of laughter. 

“Hahahaha! Look at your face!” 

In the name of professionalism, Harry took a deep breath and rubbed his face with both hands. “It’s alright. I’m happily single,” he lied. “Plan B, then. Stay still and hold out your arms, please.” As he gave the instructions, Harry circled until he stood behind Wei Wuxian. “Hopefully, this will be less invasive than touching a sacred object. Just bear with me for a moment.” 

Wei Wuxian tilted his head questioningly. However, his inquisitive nature allowed Harry to proceed, if only to find out what the wizard was on about. The wizard moved over to cover Wei Wuxian’s eyes with his hands. The necromancer’s skin was cool, thanks to the wind blowing around them in the cemetery, and smooth the way you’d expect from a movie star with access to the best skin care. 

“Are you going to do what I think you’re going to do?” Wei Wuxian asked.

“I have no idea what you mean. Anyway, imagine you’re in a lovely garden with a lovely pond and lovely flowers.”

“And lovely carps?” Wei Wuxian suggested.

Harry rolled his eyes. What a wonderful moment for him to realize he needed a thesaurus. “Yeah, that too. So many carps dancing in the water.” 

As Harry went on with the guided meditation, Mouse, having understood the cue, approached to sniff the headband from a respectful distance. It didn’t take him long to wag his tail to indicate he got the magical scent—and probably even the physical one—and he was ready to go. 

Harry nodded in acknowledgement and to convey how much of a good boy the dog continued to be.

“First part done,” he announced out loud. “The next bit is going to be a bit tricky.” 

“I can cover my eyes with the headband,” Wei Wuxian offered. “And pretend we’re following a qilin or something.” 

His laughter this time was a bit more awkward, as if bracing himself to do something he definitely didn’t want to. Which was exactly what he was doing—and all for love. Given the way he had reacted when he first met Mouse, Harry could only commend him. He also thanked him silently for catching on the strategy. 

“Yeah, that works.” He addressed Mouse again. “Go fetch Bob while we work out the logistics here.” 

Mouse nodded and carried on with his instructions. Once he was out of sight, Harry let go of Wei Wuxian.

“Are you ready?”

Wei Wuxian nodded once, his hands tightening around the headband, serious determination shining in his eyes. “I am.” Then, he raised it to his eyes and began tying it up. “By the way, I’m going to need help walking. Is it okay if I borrow your stick?”

“It’s a wizard’s staff and—”

And there was a dignity to it. Unfortunately, Harry didn’t get that far because Wei Wuxian went straight for the killing blow. 

“Fine. Staff. Whatever. The important thing here being that you wouldn’t want me to fall down and hurt myself, would you? What will you tell Sizhui when I show up covered in scratches because a treacherous stone crossed my path?”

A great argument that spoke directly to Harry’s wallet. The list of groceries he had made in his mind paraded in front of his eyes as he handed over the staff, which Wei Wuxian received with one of his wide grins. 

“Thanks!”

“Don’t mention it.” Harry felt like he had given up to a kid. There was a certain charm in Wei Wuxian that made it impossible to remain annoyed at him for long. He was obviously smart, but he also seemed the kind of person who took pains to be impossible to figure out. Was he being obtuse on purpose? Or did he not realize—or care—how others perceived him? Harry forced both the little voice claiming hypocrisy and the one calling projection to the back of his mind where they belonged and carried on with his mission. “Anyway, our qilin is here,” he added as he picked up Bob from Mouse’s mouth and quickly wiped him clean with a napkin that had come with the paper bag. “Let’s go.”

“See how I did end up covered in drool?” Bob uttered. 

“I’ll make it up to you,” Harry replied.

“You’d better. There's a book series that really caught my eye.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Harry said as he began to walk.

“Not being closely acquainted with many spirits of intellect, I barely dare to bring this up,” Wei Wuxian said, sounding like a serious expert. “But, when I looked, you didn’t have any eyes to be caught anywhere.” 

“It’s metaphorical and you know it,” Bob said in response to Wei Wuxian’s snickering. 

Harry shook his head, acknowledging himself as the adult in the group, and followed Mouse to wherever the trail took them. 

In the end, Wei Wuxian didn’t seem to be having too much trouble following along despite being unable to see. Harry’s gentle nudges were enough to show him where to turn, and the stick indicated him the end and the start of every sidewalk. 

As they walked, Wei Wuxian regaled the group with detailed stories of night hunts, events where cultivators went out to wipe out as many of the things that bumped into the night as they could. They had made it into a competition, which prompted Harry to wonder what would happen if the White Council did something similar—and how many treaties they’d be breaking in the process. 

“You should go sometime.”

“I just might. It sounds fun,” Harry replied.

“You can even bring your—qilin. My nephew has one. They can have fun together.”

Together and away from you, Harry thought but didn’t say. He also thought and didn’t say that, at this point in time, it was very likely that neither his nephew nor his dog were alive or in conditions to hunt anything. Better focus on the present matters and handle one crisis at a time.  

Despite Harry’s paranoia—even if being paranoid didn’t mean an invisible demon wasn’t about to eat your face—they advanced without problem until Mouse sat down at the entrance of a neighborhood Harry knew quite well. 

“Huh.”

“What do you mean huh?” Wei Wuxian asked, pulling the headband up a little bit, only enough to look at Harry. 

“I’ve had a few Paranet reunions a couple of houses ahead—a group of people I mentor in magic from time to time.”

“So you’re a teacher!”

“I dabble. But that’s not important now.” 

“You’re right.” Wei Wuxian covered his eyes again before he got a glimpse of Mouse. “Lan Zhan is in that house, then?” 

“One second,” Harry replied while he stared at Mouse. Acknowledging the silent command, the dog walked the remaining steps and sat right at the corner where the fence began, pointing at it with his paw. Harry sighed. “Yep. That seems to be the case.” 

“Great! Lan Zhan!” 

Harry extended an arm in front of Wei Wuxian’s chest, stopping him from advancing more than one step. “Wait! We can’t simply walk into Mordor.”

“Mordor? Is that the name of your student’s house?”

Harry scoffed. “He wished. But never mind. What I mean is that we should be cautious. The last few times Art and I met didn’t end well. He kept pestering for ‘theoretical knowledge’ on how to do certain unsavory things, so I gave him a time out. He’s supposed to be due for a revision of his case to see if he can rejoin the Paranet in a couple of weeks.”

“What kind of unsavory things?”

Harry gave a long look at Wei Wuxian as he pondered the timing of his life before answering, “Raising the dead.” 

Chapter Text

Wei Wuxian didn’t blame Harry for his wariness when he gave him the news. People had a tendency not to like having corpses walking around, and the few who did shouldn’t be allowed to pursue those interests. The Yiling Laozu had been bad—terrible—news back during Sunshot, and he had to use those corpses. Had to, he liked to tell himself. But even though that life had ended long ago, the truth remained the truth. 

The group had moved to the backyard of an abandoned nearby house. The light coming from the lamps on the street reached them, keeping the darkness away. This light didn’t seem to come from fire or a spell. Wei Wuxian would’ve loved to ask more about this—and all the fascinating contraptions he’d found since he got here. But Lan Wangji and his well-being came first. 

Wei Wuxian sat cross-legged on the ground, playing with Lan Wangji’s headband, which he had tied up around his wrist this time. Harry sat in front of him, staff lying on the ground on one side and the skull with his spirit companion on the other. It was easy to see why Lan Sizhui sent him. 

The man was filled to the brim with chaotic energy, strong enough to be Wei Wuxian’s bodyguard in unknown territory. He was also clever and experienced enough to keep up with him, and humble to the point of allowing a spirit he had under his complete control to tease him, making him one of the rare people Wei Wuxian could actually want to cooperate with. 

That Little, Silly Radish had grown into a Wise Radish, and Wei Wuxian couldn’t have been prouder. 

As for the last member of the group—that huge dog Wei Wuxian did his best not to think about—he waited behind a line of tall bushes, out of sight.  

“Paranetters are people with a low magic level who still need to be trained and taught about the White Council laws,” Harry explained. “I started to take care of that, and I thought I was doing a good job screening the people joining. Unfortunately, this guy, Art, decided to do some extracurricular research and began asking questions. At first, I answered them—tried to make him understand why he should stop. But it backfired and I had to bench him while he thought about his actions—which now has backfired further, it seems.”

Wei Wuxian nodded along, sympathizing with Harry. He had just started teaching the junior Lan disciples at the Cloud Recesses. Those kids already had morality thoroughly drilled into them, and were desperately afraid of disappointing Lan Wangji. Nonetheless, they engaged in mischief and could be a handful. Now, in Harry, he saw a mirror of what could have happened if he had taken students during his first life. 

No, thank you, Wei Wuxian concluded to himself with a shiver. 

“Are you okay?” Harry asked.

“Yeah, yeah. Either way, the biggest question is, why is Lan Wangji there and not here with me? He’d better have a good reason to leave me alone at the mercy of some dog!”

For a moment, it seemed like Harry would get upset and tell him off with the same arguments Jin Ling used. However, he reined himself back and didn’t derail the conversation. Wei Wuxian had to respect that—it didn’t happen to him often. 

“I guess knocking on the door and asking your ex-student is not an option,” the spirit of intellect said.

“You guess right. Art was already furious last time we talked. ‘Hey, have you kidnapped a powerful cultivator lately?’ might not be the wisest way to rekindle our relationship.” 

Wei Wuxian leaned forward, resting an elbow on his knee and his chin in his hand. “There are other ways to gather information.” 

“If you’re thinking of sending ghosts to spy, I must advise against it,” Harry said. “Even someone at his level would have magical protections at the door.” 

“That’s also why I don’t offer to go myself,” Bob added.

Wei Wuxian smirked, smugness oozing from his pores. “I figured.” He slid one hand inside his sleeve and fished out a little paper man. He never went anywhere without at least one of those. “That’s why I’m not sending out any ghosts.” 

“You mean you’re transferring your consciousness to that piece of paper?” Harry asked once Wei Wuxian explained his plan. 

“We can call it that. It won’t hurt my body or mind, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“Still, it sounds dangerous.”

“Pfft! I’ve done it many times before and I’m still here!”

“Survivorship bias, they call it.” Harry grumbled. “Fine. What’s my role in this?”

“Watch over my body and make sure nothing kills me.”

“Sounds easy enough.” A hint of bitterness tinged Harry’s voice, and his face became a frown like the one Jin Ling got when duty to his sect kept him from doing what he wanted. In short, Harry felt left out despite having realized that Wei Wuxian’s was a practical solution. 

“It won’t take me long,” Wei Wuxian said.

Harry glanced at the bushes and the rustling of leaves answered when the dog wagged his tail. Wei Wuxian twisted a fistful of his sleeves but was able to remain composed. It helped that Harry was also kind enough to reconsider whatever command he’d planned to give. 

“At least let Bob escort you to the premises,” he said instead. 

“Alright,” Wei Wuxian replied, willing to make a concession of his own. After all, a spirit, unlike the alternative, he could manage. 

*

Their destination was eight houses west. Given Wei Wuxian’s new reduced size, crossing that distance through backyards would be safer than using the street. He ran through the trees and bushes, slid between the cracks of the wooden fences, and took advantage of gusts of wind whenever possible.

“That’s a legendary spell I’m honored to see in action,” said the glowing cloud floating behind him with awe. “Great for getting into places one shouldn’t. I beg you, never ever teach Harry how to do it—he has enough opportunities to get himself killed already. Don’t tell him I said that, though,” the spirit added after a beat.

Wei Wuxian waved his tiny paper arm in acknowledgement. He had gone through enough mortal peril to understand the concern. Doing it himself was one thing. Putting someone else in harm’s way was another he had the utmost intention of avoiding. 

Harry’s student had chosen that area with intention. Half the houses were empty, and only mice, insects, and the occasional owl seemed to live in the area. The spirit of intellect kept them at bay by huffing in their direction every time they tried to get a better look at the interloper. 

Soon, they reached the borders of the wizard’s house. 

“This is as far as I go,” the spirit announced. “I’ll hang around until you get back—assuming you’ll do it before sunrise.”

Wei Wuxian waved his arm again, this time as a temporary goodbye. Unsure of what he would find on the other side, but excited to learn what kind of things wizards owned in this city, he crawled under the gate. 

Then, underwhelming reality hit him. The wizard’s yard was unkempt, with patches of yellow grass growing wildly, and containers of several sizes, made of plastic—a material Wei Wuxian had learned about earlier that day while lost in the city—scattered everywhere, covered in mud. An oak tree stood in the middle, shedding its leaves like an omen of wasted potential. 

The only other things of note were a small group of rogue spirits hunting for residual magic. Small, round, and black, they drifted through existence, ignoring the world until their next feeding. The paper man had nothing they wanted, but he still scurried from one container to the next, using them as cover, ready to pass himself off as a leaf if anyone with harmful intent showed up.

The house itself was a single, two-story building, its chipped paint coming down in flakes. Wei Wuxian’s target was the single door in the middle. He could have gone through a window, but the wizard had lit the lamps inside. Wei Wuxian’s shadow, small as it was, could give him away. Besides, using the main door gave him bragging points. 

Here we go, he thought as he snuck under it. 

The thick carpet, like the stocky furniture, was covered in dust and assorted kinds of filth. Dead bugs, ash, mold, clipped toenails—you name it. The Feng Shui in here had to be one of the worst he had ever encountered, so bad that he could feel the resentful energy rippling through his paper body in every room. At least the stagnant qi kept the resident spirits well-fed. 

In short, the ground floor didn’t give him anything useful—save for an idea of how much he was going to pester Lan Wangji to buy him some of those communication artifacts people used around here to tinker with at home. 

Lan Wangji. He had to be around here somewhere, Wei Wuxian could feel it—and he couldn’t stop thinking: why hadn’t Lan Wangji gone looking for him? Had he fallen into a trap? How? What could possibly keep the mighty Hanguang-jun away from his helpless wife?!

Time to go upstairs. The second floor was as bad regarding taste and energy flow. But it was here that Wei Wuxian was able to finally make some progress. 

The door to the library had been left wide open. It wasn’t as extensive as the collections of the big sects, but it was impressive for one owned by a single individual. Inside, a pale man, the palest living man Wei Wuxian had ever seen, was engaged in a tirade in the common tongue of the city, berating someone else outside of the paper man’s field of vision. It couldn’t have been Lan Wangji, though; he would’ve never stood anyone sermonizing him like that. 

Wei Wuxian risked stepping further in for a quick look. The pale man was talking to a tabby cat sitting on a chair, more concerned with licking its paws than listening to the human. 

What a relief! Even if it wasn’t Lan Wangji, a cat was not a dog. However, it remained not Lan Wangji, which meant Wei Wuxian had to keep on looking. He left the room and went back downstairs.

The cellar was the one area left to explore. How annoying. Wei Wuxian wasn’t exactly eager to go underground, and not only because the door to the stairs was suspiciously ajar. But he had to make sure—he had to see Lan Wangji with the paper man’s own ink eyes. And so he descended into the cellar, jumping step by step, with his back pressed to the wall. 

The bottom wasn’t pitch dark. Crystal balls hanging from the ceiling provided enough illumination that it might as well be the middle of the day. They might cost a fortune, but in Wei Wuxian’s expert opinion, worth every coin. 

The cellar consisted of a long hall that opened to three rooms to the right. The doors were closed, but a sliver of light came from underneath the one in the middle. As good a place as any to start investigating, so Wei Wuxian repeated his act of crawling under to get to the other side. 

This seemed to be the only clean room in the entire house. It was entirely white except for some symbols on the walls and a summoning circle on the floor. Whoever made it did it with black paint and not with blood, at least. Wei Wuxian had never seen those symbols before, but even so he could tell they had been mechanically made, copied from a book without real understanding of the strokes. Just as Harry described: this was a student who wanted to fly before learning to walk. 

But the main attraction was in the middle of the room: a stone altar where Lan Wangji lay on his back, hands folded over his chest, and robes spread out evenly on either side. He looked as beautiful and as regal as always, and he seemed to be fast asleep. The only thing missing was his headband, which was currently on Wei Wuxian’s body, a few blocks away. 

If Wei Wuxian’s paper body had had a heart, it would’ve started to race. He used Lan Wangji’s robes to climb to his side, and ran all the way from his waist to his collarbone. As he did, he felt Lan Wangji’s chest gently moving up and down under his feet.

He was breathing! Lan Wangji was breathing! 

Wei Wuxian dropped to his knees, relief taking over him. 

Lan Wangji seemed fine, just asleep. If he could wake him up, they’d be out of there and back home in a couple of hours. 

Wei Wuxian poked his husband’s lips with his hand, rebuking himself for not having improved the paper man spell to talk through it. He sat on Lan Wangji’s nose, pulled his eyelids, jumped on his cheeks—and nothing. He just wouldn’t wake up. Wei Wuxian’s short-lived relief turned into distress as he flopped on his husband’s face, slapping him with paper hands and kicking him with paper legs. 

After a moment, he stopped. He had reached a decision: fewer tantrums and more reinforcements. First step, contact the spirit of intellect to have Harry bring his body. Going there and back himself would take longer. 

However, as he took the steps to get off the altar, he turned to take a last look at Lan Wangji’s profile—his gorgeous, noble profile. Too late he realized he shouldn’t have lowered his guard.

One moment, he was free. The next, a transparent wall descended between him and the rest of the world with a loud clack. 

The pale wizard guffawed, nudging the glass he’d used to trap Wei Wuxian. After a few seconds, the man stopped his obnoxious laughter to start talking. Since he couldn’t understand a word and it seemed like a generic, pretentious speech, Wei Wuxian decided not to waste time paying attention to it. Instead, he gave a tentative push to the glass. And another, harder this time. The wizard went quiet for a second and then resumed with an angrier diatribe that Wei Wuxian also didn’t care about.  

The wizard slammed his fist on the table. The resulting tremors caused two interesting objects to fall from his sleeve, and the paper man to fall on his butt. 

To make sure the glass wouldn’t move, the wizard placed an old book on top of the glass. Then, gesticulating as if milking an invisible cow hanging from the ceiling, he left the room without closing the door. 

Well, there was little to be done about that. Wei Wuxian had better keep trying to escape. 

Pushing the glass was not going to work. Thus, he tried to pass under the edge, but the space was too thin, even for him. The force needed threatened to tear the tip of his hand. It was enough to give him pause. 

The little paper man flopped on the ground and sat cross-legged. This one was going to be tricky. On the plus side, the pair of darts that fell from the wizard’s sleeve looked too much like the ones used against him and Harry at the cemetery. One less mystery to go.

Wei Wuxian didn’t have to rack his brain for long. The wizard’s cat walked into the chamber, the same tabby the man had been talking to. It sniffed around, as aloof as only a member of its species could be. 

Fantastic. This was his chance.

Cats were famous for knocking things off high places, weren’t they? Therefore, if he could get the animal’s attention…

To make himself appetizing prey, Wei Wuxian waved both arms and turned around to shake his rear end the most enticing way he knew how. 

The cat promptly jumped on the altar. It circled around Lan Wangji with elegant movements while those bright, green eyes took in the paper man’s miniature size. “Stop that. Preserving whatever dignity we still have left would be nice, thank you.”

Wei Wuxian froze. A double take confirmed that the cat had spoken in a female voice and in the universal language of spirits he could understand, which was both a relief and a worry at the same time. He had to laugh at himself for not realizing she was a fairy. But her glamour was too good and his senses were limited in this form.  

The cat kept talking. “Small talk is boring, so we’re skipping it. Listen, you’re trapped. I’m trapped. He’s trapped,” she added, glancing at Lan Wangji. “How about we do something about it?”

Wei Wuxian nodded. If this cat fairy really had her freedom to gain from their teaming up, then chances were she meant business. Even then, however, he’d have to be very careful with the wording—hers, since he couldn’t speak.

“The contract I was forced into prevents me from giving much detail—ugh!” She interrupted herself when her paw hit one of the darts. “Keep away from these. They’re a crude and garish way to put humans to sleep. Anyway, where was I? Oh, right. This much I can do, however,” she continued as she knocked the old book aside with her head. Then, she pushed the glass with a paw, making it tip on its side. “Oopsie! Just a cat doing cat things! Following our nature is unavoidable. Now get on my back, cultivator.”

Instead of following her instructions, Wei Wuxian tugged at Lan Wangji’s sleeve. He was not leaving that house without his husband! 

The cat shook her head. “You need your human body to wake him up. Ask the spirit outside to tell you about the princess surrounded by thorns. He’ll tell you what I cannot.”

Wei Wuxian’s hesitancy cost him the invitation. With a huff, the cat fairy pressed him flat with a paw, folding him in two. Then, she picked him up with her mouth. 

As he dangled, he crossed his arms. He, the precious wife of the second young master Lan, reduced to someone else’s paper craft?! 

Such indignity! 

Still, he appreciated her saying that he’d need his human body instead of his real body. Getting that one would complicate things. 

The cat crossed the yard darting from shadow to shadow. This time, Wei Wuxian heard whispers and saw movement that hadn’t been there before. The spirits had woken up and wandered around. They had surely been ordered to keep watch, even if their fear of the cat prevented them from getting too close. 

She ignored them and scurried under a bush that led to a hole on the fence. It was big enough for her to pass comfortably, so Wei Wuxian thought. However, when she placed Wei Wuxian in front of it, she sighed with longing. “I wish I could cross the barrier,” she whispered. “Cultivator, I apologize for this, but it’s the fastest way. Remember to come back to free us.”

Then, she meowed loud. Her whole body was into it, from her claws dug into the ground to her whiskers tightly pressed against her face, and to her stiff, fluffed out tail. 

Wei Wuxian jumped backward, ready to run away, but he didn’t get to. In response to her call, a large muzzle covered in long fur came in from the hole in the fence and picked him up. 

At first, confusion and surprise prevented him from realizing what was going on. Not for long, though. A heartbeat later, he was able to give a name to the large shape behind him. 

A dog. A large, horrible, terrible dog—and all Wei Wuxian could see were massive fangs around his frail paper body. 

A voice that wasn’t quite human shouted behind them, but Wei Wuxian was not in condition to recognize to whom it belonged, or even to make out the words. All he could do was let the merciful darkness engulf him. 

When Wei Wuxian came back to himself, he was lying on the ground. To his relief, when he raised a hand, he saw flesh-and-bone fingers instead of paper. A quick check told him that every single part of his body was there. He patted his chest, stomach, and legs—no holes, no cuts, and no bruises—his second body was just as he’d left it. The only thing out of place was the paper man, which clung to his chest, a bit mushy but with all its limbs accounted for. Wei Wuxian put it back into his sleeve as a final thank you for the help. Finally, he checked on his dizi. Chenqing was in his sash, humming faintly to welcome him. 

Fantastic. He could jump straight into action. 

Next to him, Harry was scolding the spirit of intellect, who had retreated into his skull. Judging by the whimpering coming from behind the house, Mouse—who named such a large beast Mouse?—also suffered the reprimand. 

Harry kept his staff in his right hand—either to give himself an even greater air of authority or to have something handy to smack people with. The symbols carved all over it made the staff a strong spiritual tool, as Wei Wuxian had discerned when he got the chance to use it as a walking stick. It had seen battle, and the magic residue left in it made clear its master wasn’t anyone to trifle with—and he was still under a contractual obligation to help him. Exactly what Wei Wuxian needed.

When he stood up, he stretched, calling Harry’s attention. He exclaimed something that Wei Wuxian didn’t catch, although relief showed in his face. 

“I’m up! I’m up!” Wei Wuxian said, a grin on his face as he waved a hand. “Kinda hungry, though. Do you have any food?”

Harry threw a bar of something at him, wrapped in paper, which Wei Wuxian tore open to reveal densely packed seeds. He sniffed them, found them agreeable, and took a bite.

“I apologize for the way you were brought back,” Harry said. 

“It was the most efficient way!” Bob said. “Mouse has a better ear and he runs way faster than you, Boss. The cat insisted on speed!” 

“Bob.”

“And we shouldn’t have done it,” Bob added after a brief pause. 

It seemed that would be the closest to an apology the spirit would be giving—and it wasn’t like Wei Wuxian particularly cared.  

“That’s all in the past,” Wei Wuxian replied after swallowing the food, waving a hand. “I don’t think of the past—especially when we have other matters to attend.”

He spent the next few minutes explaining what he had learned during his excursion. The spirits, the old books in the library, the basement. Harry grabbed a stick and drafted a quick map of the house on the ground. He did it accurately, with a soldier’s precision and sense of urgency, further cementing that he was the man for the job.

“Sure, I know about the princess and the thorns bit,” Bob said. “It means that Hanguang-jun is under a sleeping beauty spell.”

Wei Wuxian finished the seed bar and scratched his temple with Chenqing. “Well, he was sleeping and he is a beauty, but…”

“It’s a Fae-favorite, a spell broken by a true love’s kiss,” Harry added. 

Wei Wuxian smirked, smug. “Then I have that covered.”

“The cat fairy is being very cooperative,” Bob commented. “She really wants out.” 

“Is it wise to add ‘saving the girl’ to the task list, then?” Harry asked.

“I’d say this once it is, Boss.”

“Alright, then.” Harry stood up and addressed the being hidden around the corner. “Guard the back and make sure Art doesn’t escape.” Next, he offered the spirit’s skull to Wei Wuxian. “Would you mind holding onto this? Bob can fill you in with context if needed.”

“And also keep an eye on me, right?” Wei Wuxian replied, taking the skull and placing it in his qiankun pouch. “It’s fine. I get it.” Harry was being paid for taking care of him, after all.

Harry nodded a thanks and grabbed his staff. “Alright, let’s have fun storming the castle!”

“A castle?” Wei Wuxian asked. “Where I come from, castles are bigger.”

“Here too,” Harry replied. He seemed a bit miffed. “I was quoting a novel. In that scene, two friends were on their way to rescue a captured warrior.”

“Oh! Just like us!”

“Precisely.”

“Is there romance in the novel?”

“Kisses and all. I can tell you the story later, if you’d like.” 

“Yes, please. Sounds fun.”

The calm before a storm. Two seasoned warriors sharing a moment on their way to a mission. But everything would be fine. It had to.

Harry planted his staff on the ground in front of his student’s house. It crackled with barely restrained energy, sparks coming out from where the wood touched the ground. Teacher was angry and Wei Wuxian could have felt sorry for this dumb wizard—if he hadn’t kidnapped his beloved. 

“Art! Get out here and answer for your misdeeds!” 

 A yell came from inside the house, in another language and amplified by a spell.

Harry groaned. Then, he yelled back in his own language, initiating some back and forth Wei Wuxian could kind of follow by the tone and volume of their voices.

“Harry is wearing a charm that allows him to speak in any language he’s spoken to,” Bob, currently floating near Wei Wuxian’s ear, explained. 

“So, since he’s been talking to me, he announced himself in my language and he had to do it all over again when his student didn’t understand?”

“Yup,” Bob said. 

Wei Wuxian tilted his head at the spirit. “And you didn’t remind him because…?”

“It was funny.”

Wei Wuxian snickered. “Can’t say it wasn’t.”

“Anyway,” the spirit continued, “Harry’s telling Art to surrender and to release Hanguang-jun. Art is being very clear on how much he doesn’t wanna.” 

“Well, he was caught doing something he definitely shouldn’t have done. If he had a working sense of self-preservation, he wouldn’t have started at all.” 

“Good point.”

A blast of wind hit the fence and forced the door open, signaling the end of the initial negotiations. The poor door was left dangling, nearly off its hinges, while Harry cracked his neck and marched through as he issued a command without looking back at his companions. 

Wei Wuxian shivered. “Scary. He’s asking us to follow, right?”

“That he is. He also got me an invitation on a technicality, so I can come in no problem.” 

“What did this Art guy say to piss him off like that?”

“That he won’t free Hanguang-jun before he gets what he wants—which is you teaching him how to raise the dead since Harry won’t do it. Harry gave him one last chance to come to his senses, but then Art told him that if he went in, he’d just become another hostage. And then something about his mom.” 

“Yeah, that’d do it. Some people,” Wei Wuxian added, shaking his head as he began moving. “However, if he’s as weak as Harry claims, where is this bravado coming from? Either the spirits he keeps in his house have been eating his brain or there’s something we should watch out for.” 

“At this point it could be either. A third option is that maybe he thinks that his spirits are strong enough to stop the both of you.”

Wei Wuxian laughed. “The both of us? You’re not fighting?”

“Excuse you. I’m a scholar. I’m just here to provide accurate information.”

“Sure you are.” Wei Wuxian laughed harder as they joined Harry on the other side of the fence, at the front door. The spirits still lingered there, floating at about ankle height, staring up at them. They hadn’t received any instructions and wouldn’t do anything unless they got one. “Are we giving him one last chance?” he asked as he tapped Chenqing.

“That would be nice.” Harry sighed. “Bob, tell me something in English.” 

The spirit of intellect complied and Harry exchanged some more words with the pale wizard. 

Said pale wizard made an appearance through the window on the second floor. He yelled and shook one fist at them while holding one of his worn books in the other. 

“Oh, no,” Bob exclaimed. “Harry! Harry! I know that book!” he yelled, just as an avalanche of angry spirits burst through the front door, charging against them.

“So that’s where the bravado came from,” Wei Wuxian concluded before playing a melody that would repel the attackers and Harry raised a magic shield.

“Bob! Ideas?” 

“Get that book and take over the spell,” Bob replied from the depths of Wei Wuxian’s right sleeve. “Or get that book and destroy it. Either works as long as you hurry. Art might not have read as far as I fear—but that’s unlikely.”

Harry gritted out, “Both solutions start by getting close to Art. Alright let’s do that.” He turned to Wei Wuxian. “Can you handle things here while I barge in?”

Before Wei Wuxian could reply that he was going to barge in as well to get to his husband, thank you, the pale wizard’s arm came out through the door. In his extended arm, he held a squirming tabby that fought to scratch him.

“No! I don’t want to! Don’t make me!” the cat fairy yelled in between hisses and yowls. The wizard shouted something back at her, threw her out, and slammed the door behind him. The cat stood on her rear legs, scratching the door. Her pleas got no answer. Instead, she began to contort and expand in size.

The other spirits stopped what they were doing and scattered, leaving an open path from Wei Wuxian and Harry to the house. Meanwhile, the cat kept growing. 

Her limbs became longer and twisted, ending in sharp claws hard enough to tear into metal as if it were butter. The tail thickened, and her mouth became all teeth. Her eyes stayed tightly shut for a moment before she opened them again. By then, the indifferent expression in her bright green eyes had been replaced by rage. 

“Hell’s bells!” Harry growled. 

“Update, Boss,” Bob said. “Art did read as far as I feared.”

“I gathered as much, thanks,” Harry snapped back as if a ton of cat monster hadn’t just leaped for his head. 

Mouse intercepted the cat midair. It wasn’t a good time for Wei Wuxian to paralyze so, as soon as he saw the dog’s shadow from the corner of his eye, he turned around and took deep breaths. Even so, he got to see the giant dog pushing the cat’s shoulders down with his powerful paws. 

“It’s not coming for me,” he told himself as he lowered his head and ran toward the door. It’d be best if it was him going in. It wouldn’t just get him away from the dog, allowing Harry to fight without worrying about him. It would also speed up his reunion with Lan Wangji. “It’s not coming for me. His master won’t let him because then he’d have to face A-Yuan and his big disappointed eyes and nobody wants to deal with those.”

The mantra helped to keep him distracted until he crossed the threshold. “Hey, spirit of intellect!” he called. “You said that you know that book. Is there anything in there that’s still gonna cause us trouble?”

“To you, nothing much,” came the spirit’s voice. “But to a helpless prisoner…”

The spirit didn’t finish his sentence. He didn’t have to. Wei Wuxian hated the idea of his usually strong, capable, dependable husband being unable to defend himself—even if the idea of teasing him about being his savior this once sounded intriguing and full of possibilities.

Now, had the wizard gone upstairs to keep enjoying the show or downstairs to keep control over his prisoner? That didn’t matter. Wei Wuxian would, first of all, head down to the cellar to touch his beloved’s lips with his own and break the spell.

Yet, the wizard was already in the cellar, leafing through his book when Wei Wuxian and Bob came down. The pale man leafed back and forth through the pages as his eyes moved frantically side to side. He was so absorbed by it that he didn’t even stop when the intruders entered the chamber.

“I think we arrived before the stage was ready,” Bob said. 

“So rude of us,” Wei Wuxian quipped back. A quick glance let him know that Lan Wangji was still asleep but also in good health, easing his mind, even if the wizard stood between them. 

When he heard them, the pale man startled and yelled at them some more while shaking a finger at them. 

“You’re wasting a lot of words only for me not to understand a thing,” Wei Wuxian began. “I would say that you’re the kind of person who likes to hear the sound of their own voice regardless of how much sense they’re making. We need to work on that, and for we, I mean you, obviously. Why are you doing this, by the way? I mean, it’s clear what you’re doing, but what do you mean to achieve? Power for power’s sake? I might be more sympathetic if you were trying to bring back a loved one. I still wouldn’t teach you my secrets, but I’d understand. As things stand, I have decided that in the end, I don’t mind teaching you a lesson—although not the one you want.”

The pale wizard, who obviously understood nothing of what Wei Wuxian said, showed his teeth in an angry, deranged smile, a kind Wei Wuxian seldom saw but that never announced anything good. Wide open and with clear red lines crisscrossing the cornea, the wizard’s eyes seemed about to start weeping blood. He reached into a pocket and brought out a handful of pages, barely more than a pamphlet, which he showed to his opponents while he started to chant. 

“Uh-oh,” the spirit of intellect murmured.

“What do you mean uh-oh?” Wei Wuxian asked.

“He’s saying those are the missing pages of the book he’s holding. The ones with a spell to summon a creature so hard to control that the original author ripped them off—and that he bought them on the internet.”

“On the what?”

“Doesn’t matter. Suffice to say that his weak magic is actually working against us.” 

Wei Wuxian twirled Chenqing in his hand. “Fine. I’ll just get him out of the way, kiss Lan Zhan, and call it a day.”

“You’d better hurry before he finishes the summon. You saw how much trouble the tame cat did. Imagine what a feral—”

The abrupt way the spirit stopped himself brought dread to Wei Wuxian, who turned slowly to face Bob. “A feral what?”

“A—ugh. A feral kind of creature you’re not particularly fond of. Its master died tragically centuries ago and—You know what? Let’s stop pretending this lecture is any useful. Forget about the specifics of the creature and focus on stopping the guy!”

“Easy for you to say!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed. 

A few steps to their right, inside a summoning circle drawn on the floor, a figure began to take form. Although not yet solid, the smoke started to take shape. A muzzle, two ears, four legs. The tail alone was twice as big as a man. The suddenness of it all made Wei Wuxian forget the song he had prepared in his mind and he began to shake from head to toe and his vision got blurry.

It was not fair! He had gotten away from one dog only to run into another! And an even worse one!

“Your husband!” Bob pressed right into his ear. “Think of your husband! Wake him up—he’ll deal with that thing!”

Right. 

Right. He could do that. Lan Wangji would protect him. He was there, just a few steps away and—

And before he could take the first one, the multiple spirits in the room blocked his path, some of them holding him by his robes. They weren’t powerful, but they were many. So many. 

Wei Wuxian tried to bring Chenqing to his lips but the wizard had anticipated that, commanding the spirits to hold his sleeves down. He tried to pull them up, but the spirits wouldn’t let him and the wizard cackled. That mean, petty man. 

What a fool.

Wei Wuxian whistled a sharp note, focusing on the first few layers of spirits surrounding him. It took but a second, just the fraction of a melody; in this place full of resentful energy, there was no doubt of who was the strongest. Despite the spirits’ brave attempt at resisting, their former master’s power had nothing on Wei Wuxian’s indomitable will and fine control.

Who did that wizard think he was facing? He had been given chance after chance and he had wasted them all, just making things worse for himself.

The spirits let go of Wei Wuxian. No longer his captors, they became instead a guard of honor on his way to Lan Wangji. Ignoring the wizard, Wei Wuxian strolled to the altar, now unopposed, and bent over his husband to plant a kiss on his lips.

Under him, Lan Wangji drew a sharp breath and opened his eyes. Wei Wuxian grinned widely in relief and helped him sit up, clinging to his neck. “Lan Zhaaaaaan!”

In turn, Lan Wangji held him back tenderly. He probably didn’t understand where they were yet, but why would that matter in their reunion? “Wei Ying,” he said with warmth and sweetness. Those were the only words Wei Wuxian needed to hear in the whole world.

Wei Wuxian allowed himself a moment to take in Lan Wangji’s scent and his tenderness, happy—oh, so happy—to be in those strong arms. Then, he pushed him back enough to look at him with big eyes brimming with tears and an even bigger pout. “Lan Zhaaaaaan! Be a good husband and stop the mean wizard! He’s summoning a dog spirit to sic on meeeeeeee!” 

Lan Wangji didn’t need any more explanation for his frown to harden. He looked around to evaluate the situation, came up with a sound strategy, and implemented it, all in less than a second. 

He squeezed Wei Wuxian tight one last time before jumping off the altar, landing next to the summoning circle where sharp fangs already showed inside a long muzzle. The giant body that wasn’t yet solid enough to take a step into the physical world, but it would be at any second—except that, with the tip of his boot, Lan Wangji wiped the outermost line of the circle. His action broke the cage of energy, causing the ghastly creature to dissolve into a minuscule storm that faded away like it had never been there. 

In the next breath and with an elegant movement, Lan Wangji used Bichen to pierce the pages from which the wizard had been reading. Then, he pierced the wizard with a cold look that made him drop to his knees, trembling. Next, just to make sure, Lan Wangji leaned forward and tapped on the acupuncture points that would block the wizard’s flow of magic. Now, he wouldn’t be able to summon anything, even with the world’s most cursed book. 

The wizard babbled something that sounded pathetic. However, frankly, with Lan Wangji’s track record, he should consider himself lucky to have kept all of his limbs. 

With the room clear of threats, Wei Wuxian threw himself to Lan Wangji to rub his face against the other’s neck. “My hero! Lan Zhan! You saved me!”

Lan Wangji’s face softened. He wrapped his arms around Wei Wuxian’s waist and brought him close, focusing his entire attention on his beloved. This took the pressure off the wizard, allowing him to fall on his behind. But who cared about him?

“I’ve been doing a lot of things in the last few hours. I can’t wait to tell you everything! Will you listen?” Regardless, Wei Wuxian carried on as if Lan Wangji had agreed, because he knew that was the case. “There are a few things I’d like you to buy for me before we go home. I hope you’ve brought money.”

“Mn.” 

“It’s not my intention to interrupt such a heartfelt reunion,” Bob said all of the sudden, “but we might want to end the other spell. Harry’s still fighting with the cat.”

“Oh, right!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed, perking up. “Besides, it’s not a good idea for something like this to exist in this world.” He bent over to pick the old book up from the floor and passed it to Lan Wangji. Without a question, he used his incredible arm strength to rip it apart. In response, Wei Wuxian pressed his hands together and twirled, squealing as he did. “Go check on your master,” he told Bob. “We’ll join you in a minute.” 

“I highly doubt it’ll be just a minute, but okay,” the glowing orange cloud said as he flew upstairs. 

Well, he wasn’t wrong, Wei Wuxian thought, so there was no point in getting upset. Therefore, he turned to Lan Wangji yet again, playing the part of the innocent maiden, with one hand behind his back and the other tapping his lips while he swayed. “So, how are you repaying all the hard effort I made to rescue you?”

“Repaying you?” Lan Wangji repeated, staring into Wei Wuxian’s eyes, his pupils growing darker. 

“Repaying me!” Wei Wuxian laughed, throwing his arms around his husband’s shoulders. “I wanted to delay this a bit longer but, when it’s about you, I really have no self control,” he said, even though it was Lan Wangji the one to initiate the kiss. He thought he saw a small smile play at Lan Wangji’s lips, but he soon lost all notion of the outside world—as it was his right.

Chapter Text

The moment the claws about to gouge his eyes stopped just short of his eyelids, Harry knew Wei Wuxian and Bob had destroyed the spell book. When the tension left him, his body gave up and he flopped onto his back in the middle of the backyard. 

“I don’t even want to know how many tears the duster got,” he whined. 

Mouse, who’d been sent flying into the oak tree a moment earlier, limped back to find a regular-sized green-eyed tabby perched on his owner’s chest. 

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to!” the cat said in between meows so heartbreaking that they would make any cat lover forgive her anything. 

“I know. It’s alright,” Harry breathed. He had managed to get out unscathed except for a few small scratches and bruises while also avoiding hurting the cat fairy. Everything would hurt in the morning—that is, in a couple of hours—but he was proud of his accomplishments. And relieved. Let’s not forget relieved.  

“That human! That horrid human! He trapped me and forced me to do things! Forced me!” The cat fairy ranted on as she made biscuits on Harry’s shirt and Mouse kissed him better. 

Your regular Thursday at Chez Harry if Mister could talk. 

“Hey, Boss! Happy to see you in one piece,” Bob said when he arrived a moment later. “The happy couple has reunited and is smooching in the basement. Art’s there too, so I don’t think they’ll do more than that even though it’s obvious that they really want to.”

From his supine position, Harry waved a hand. “I could’ve done it without the TMI.”

“Nope. You needed the TMI. Don’t you always tell me that I have to be thorough with my reports?”

“I don’t—” Harry sighed and lowered his hand. “Never mind. Let’s leave it at that. Go back to your skull and rest. You’ve earned it.”

“I might’ve earned it but I can’t. The skull’s still in Wei Wuxian’s sleeve and I am not interrupting them.”

“Fine. Stay here, then. We’ll give them ten minutes.”

Ten minutes that Harry also needed to catch his breath and feel the grass under his hands. He moved only so he could rest his head on Mouse’s side and closed his eyes.

Harry woke up from his micro power nap when his doggy pillow bolted away. Disoriented at first, he blinked a few times, understanding what had happened only when he saw Wei Wuxian coming out of the house. Next to him, another man, dressed in white and with a white headband tied around his forehead, dragged Art by the scruff of his shirt. That could only be the famous Hanguang-jun. He looked the closest to a Sidhe Harry had seen a human to be, emanating power and a sense of inherent solemnity. 

Before Harry could decide whether he was still dreaming, the cat fairy, who had curled up on his chest, stretched, curling her back and digging her claws into his skin, waking him up for good. 

Wei Wuxian laughed at his yelp. “I was starting to think you were dead.”

Harry grabbed the cat and sat cross-legged. “If I were, you could bring me back.”

“Sorry. Not doing that anymore.”

Harry clicked his tongue. “Had to try.” 

He laughed, as did Wei Wuxian. But Harry stopped when he felt the stinky eye Hanguang-jun was giving him. He didn’t see it—he felt it. Harry tried to smile at him but got nothing back. 

Awkward.

“So,” Harry asked, pointing at Art with his eyebrows, “what happened to him?”

“We’ve blocked his magic,” Hanguang-jun said. 

“Not forever,” Wei Wuxian hurried to clear up. “He’ll be able to use it again if someone taps the same acupuncture points in the reverse order with the same pressure. But I’m not sure anyone would want to in the short term.”

“I have to agree with that,” Harry said. “And why is he unconscious?”

“He panicked,” Lan Wangji replied in a flawless deadpan. 

Harry kind of wanted to laugh at that line, but Hanguang-jun looked so dignified that, in the end, the mere idea felt disrespectful. 

“Could I have my skull back? Sunrise is coming sooner than I’d like,” Bob said. 

Harry silently thanked him for changing the subject. 

“Sure,” Wei Wuxian said, bringing it out from that pouch of his that worked as a bag of holding. 

Bob made a most satisfied noise as he settled back in his abode. That done, Hanguang-jun offered the skull back. Harry just knew that he didn’t get said skull thrown at his head out of respect for Bob and his contributions to the cause. 

“Thank you,” Harry said, standing up to take it back as if everything was normal. Then, he turned to the cat. “And you have something to tell them, didn’t you?” 

“Right,” said the tabby. She looked up at both cultivators. “It was me who opened the time door to bring you here. I can do it again to send you back and then neither of us will be indebted with each other.”

“Sounds good,” Wei Wuxian said, kneeling to poke the cat’s nose. 

The cat jumped to the side, dodging his finger. Then, she licked her shoulder with quick motions, pretending nothing had happened. Wei Wuxian laughed. He’d been doing that all night—laughing, that is—but this time, the sound was different. Richer and brighter. The kind of thing loved did for you, Harry thought.  

“Oh, by the way,” Wei Wuxian said. He stretched his hand and Lan Wangji placed another and more ordinary-looking pouch on it. “Fair is fair and we aren’t thieves. Give this to your student once he’s allowed to have his own money again.”

Harry took the pouch and weighted it in his hand. It felt heavy and the contents clinked. “Does he know what this is for?”

“Not yet. Tell him we’re taking the communication devices in his house.”

The radio and the TV, then.

“They won’t work in your time,” Harry said.

“I know. I still want to open them and see what’s inside.”

“Fair,” Harry said. “He’ll be able to buy good replacements with this.”  

A moment later, the cat fairy chose a spot to open the time door—the same where Harry had taken his nap—and began to run in circles. She started slow but steadily increased the speed until a small tornado rose at her feet.

Seeing a time portal was a fascinating once-in-a-lifetime event for Harry, who tasked Bob with observing everything for later notes.

“Nerd,” Bob remarked.

Harry didn’t dignify that with an answer, busy as he was watching the tornado starting to shimmer as it ripped through the fabric of time and space. 

“Thank you very much for all your help,” Wei Wuxian said, bowing to Harry and Bob. “And to your qilin too. I must admit that he was very accommodating, all things considered,” he added, nodding in the direction where Mouse was hiding. 

“Qilin?” Lan Wangji asked. He hadn’t even bothered with a perfunctory nod.

“That’s how we ended up calling one of my companions,” Harry replied while Mouse showed his paw from behind a corner of the house to reveal his true nature.

“I understand,” Lan Wangji said, and didn’t elaborate, but his tone felt a tiny bit less harsh than when he first thought Harry was a homewrecker. 

“It’s all done!” the cat exclaimed, proud of her good job. 

“This is it, then,” Harry said. “It was fun. And a pleasure, but mostly fun.”

“I think the same,” Wei Wuxian replied, waving his hand. 

Lan Wangji nodded one more time and held his husband’s hand to make the journey back home.

“Hanguang-jun! Senior Wei!” called someone from  the other side of the door. 

Harry took a peek and met the eyes of a young man, not even twenty, who looked like a younger version of the Master Lan who had hired him earlier. The exchange didn’t last long enough to trigger a soulgaze, but enough for either of them to recognize the other from a police lineup. 

“We’re coming! We’re coming!” Wei Wuxian said as they crossed the portal. Once on the other side, he ruffled the young man’s hair, who took it not with resignation or annoyance, as most his age would’ve done, but with a mix of relief and deference. “We have a very interesting and funny story to tell you, Little Radish! It’s likely going to take the whole evening and half the night!” He finished his phrase, turning his head enough to wink at Harry as the portal closed. 

Harry stared at the vanishing until it was gone. 

“Well, that was some hard work,” the cat said, stretching and yawning. 

“How long ago did they go to?” Harry asked. “Like ten years ago?”

“Pfft!” the cat laughed. “More like a few centuries. Well, I’m going back to my forest, wizard. No offense, but I need a long, long break from humans.” 

“Honestly? Can’t blame you,” Harry replied as he stared at Art, his brain refusing to reach conclusions regarding the lifespan of cultivators. 

“By the way, there’s a wheelbarrow in the garage so you can take this… individual to the White Council. I hope his punishment goes according to his sins.”

With that, the cat fairy finally left, leaving Harry staring at Art, wondering what punishment could be worse than sealing one’s magic. 

“Well, we’d better stop delaying the inevitable,” he murmured before turning to Mouse, who had joined back now that Wei Wuxian had left. “Make sure Art stays put while I find that wheelbarrow.” 

Harry carted the still unconscious Art in that wheelbarrow back to the Blue Beetle. Once there, he sat him in the backseat next to Mouse. 

“I know it’s tight in here, boy, but there’s no one else I’d trust to keep an eye on him while I drive.” 

Mouse wagged his tail, happy to guard the prisoner. 

“You should be this smooth in other areas of your life, not just with your dog,” Bob said as Harry fastened the seatbelt around the skull.

“I can be smooth whenever I want, thanks.” 

“Of course you can. You saved the girl and all, even if you didn’t get her.” 

Harry tied the wheelbarrow on the top of the Beetle with a length of rope he’d brought along. Then, he got in the driver’s seat, put the seatbelt on, and started the car. 

“I might have if Mister allowed other cats in the house. Now, let’s go collect the rest of the money. I’ll get the books you wanted later in the afternoon, after I’ve taken a proper nap.”

“Ohohoho! You’re the best, Boss!”

“No problem.” 

“You know? I think I’d like to try some gay romance books, just to see what the fuss is about.”

“You do realize I’m the one who has to go buy them, right?”

“Harry, what year do you think this is? You need to keep up with the times! Besides, didn’t I do a great job?”

“You did, you did. Fine. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Yay!”

Harry sighed deeply, eyes fixed on the road. However, the closer they got home, the more tightly his hands wrapped around the wheel. 

“That’s some scary look you have there, Boss,” Bob continued. “What’s on your mind?”

Harry took a moment before answering. “If anyone asked me, ‘Did you win or lose tonight?’ my answer would be, ‘Yes.’”

“Well, that clears things up.”

“I kind of don’t want to turn Art over to the Council. I agree that he’s done stupid and dangerous shit, although by a mere fluke, and he’s been greedy and willing to hurt others—Okay. That didn’t help my case.” 

“What’s your case?” Bob pressed. 

Harry sighed again. “I taught him how to do all of that.”

“Harry, he got those books on the internet. No way you taught him about online shopping.”

“Not what I meant and you know it.”

“Maybe. But small as it was, he had his magic potential before you met him—as well as his beyond-measure greed. Not everything under the sun is your fault. Leave some guilt for the rest of us.” 

“Do you ever feel guilt about anything, Bob?”

“It’s a figure of speech.” 

Harry chuckled. “Alright. Alright. Still, I hope the Council doesn’t take this as a strike for the Paranet. But I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

“That’s the spirit.”

Harry nodded, aware that the bridge was now only a few blocks away. 

Harry parked the Beetle behind the same fancy car Harry found in front of his building the previous evening. Before announcing his presence, he helped Mouse off the car, unloaded Art to the wheelbarrow, placed Bob’s skull on top of Art, and, only then, he approached the visitors. 

Ancient Mai seemed to be enduring the indignity of having to wait out on the street only because Master Lan was there too, leaning against the car door. They seemed to be discussing something deep and wise. World-changing, even.

“I think a large box of that new brand of chili powder should be a good present,” Master Lan was saying when Harry got within hearing range.

Ah. 

In any case, Harry hadn’t been wrong: Master Lan did look at most ten years older than the young man he saw through the portal. Despite being unable to help a shiver, Harry made a quick recovery and proceeded as if nothing happened. 

“Hello,” he said, placing the wheelbarrow next to the car. “Here’s your culprit. Your VIPs are back home safe and sound and—and I think that’s it,” he finished, unable to bring himself to ask for mercy for his former student. Instead, he held onto Bob’s skull for comfort. 

“Right on time,” Master Lan said, followed by a fleeting, blink-and-you-miss-it glance at Ancient Mai that meant, ‘What did I tell you?’ “Excellent job, Wizard Dresden,” he added as he offered a second thick envelope.

Harry felt so vindicated when Ancient Mai scrunched her nose like a mean bunny that he pocketed the money without checking the contents. This was the most satisfying victory of the day. Therefore, he smiled at her to show her he was a good winner. 

While they did that, Master Lan knelt next to the wheelbarrow and jabbed a spot under Art’s neck with a finger. Immediately, Art inhaled a sharp breath and sat up, looking around, trying to recognize where he was.

“Ah—” Harry began. The eloquence in person.

“Don’t worry. He doesn’t have his magic back yet. I just woke him up,” Master Lan said, giving Harry a dart similar to the ones used against them in the cemetery. 

Well, so much for the mysterious attacker.

“Oh.”

What a wordsmith. 

“What’s going on?” Art asked. He climbed down the wheelbarrow stomping his feet. “Who are you? How dare—?”

He interrupted himself with a squeal when he found Mouse’s fangs close enough to give him a face transplant. 

Master Lan strolled his way next to Mouse. He kept his hands behind his back, and he moved with ease. Yet, when he spoke, his voice was ice and his eyes were steel. The first thought that crossed Harry’s mind was that he would hate facing him in battle. “You abducted my teachers and father figures. Therefore, I dare.” Master Lan made a pause for effect before continuing. “Since your offense was targeted toward the Lan Clan, we’ll take care of your punishment. That much has been agreed.” 

“I attest to it,” Ancient Mai said. Magic cracked in the air as she did, a sign that the Lans’ pact with the White Council ran deep. 

“What—what will you do to me?” Art turned to his former magic teacher. “Harry?!” 

Harry shook his head. “You rejected my help when there was still time. Don’t come to me now that it’s late.” 

He tried to sound dignified, although in reality he was lowkey terrified of someone who had accumulated enough power to become functionally immortal. Master Lan was way older than Ancient Mai and still managed to look younger. One didn’t mess with that. 

As they spoke, another fancy car pulled over in front of the first one. 

“Ah, they’re here.” Since he had managed to scare Art into compliance, Master Lan went back to his gentle self. He turned to address Mouse. “We’ve been such a nuisance already. Yet, I’m afraid I must trouble you a little more. I’ll make it up to you—with your master’s permission.”

The chauffeur passed Master Lan a large bag of doggy treats, which prompted Mouse to whine at Harry. 

Like he would say no to that.

“Yeah, it’s fine.” 

“Thank you,” Master Lan said. 

Next thing, Mouse was carrying his bag of treats to the interior of the building. He’d likely stay in the lobby sampling them while he waited for Harry to join him. 

With that, the surprises had been clearly telegraphed. The occupants of the new car got off and approached the group. They dressed in modern clothes and their hair was styled differently, but they were unmistakable.  If Harry hadn’t known, he would’ve said they were no more than one or two years older,

“Hey! Look who it is!” Wei Wuxian said. 

“Didn’t I just send you home?” Harry replied, looking from the man with the grinning, sunglasses-covered face to the stoic figure standing behind him. It brought him a strange sense of peace to see they hadn’t divorced in all this time. He hadn’t spent the entire night trying to get them back together for that. 

Wei Wuxian laughed. “Time travel is weird like that.” He held out his hand to grab the presentation card his husband placed on it in perfect choreography. “Unfortunately we don’t have as much time as I’d like right now, but we can catch up later.”

Harry hurried to get his own card for a proper exchange. “Sure. I haven’t done much in the last hour, but I have a hunch that for sure something’ll happen this weekend.”

While they did that, Hanguang-jun showed the great off-screen character development he’d had these past centuries and didn’t waste time glaring at Harry. Instead, he stared at Art.

“By the way, I was wondering how this got into his neck,” Harry said, showing them the dart.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Wei Wuxian said.

“It’s been a long time,” Hanguang-jun continued with the same deadpan, and went to talk with the villain du jour. 

Harry decided to leave the topic alone. Instead, he asked, “What will you do with him?” 

“Time heals all wounds, they say,” Wei Wuxian answered with a shrug. “We’ve decided we’re going make an attempt to guide him to a journey of redemption. Sounds fancy, but he’s gonna do a lot of cleaning in the Cloud Receses. That’s our home, by the way. You can go whenever.”

“Yeah. That’ll do him good. Thanks for that. And also for the invitation. I might even take it up.”

“Don’t mention it,” Wei Wuxian said, patting Harry’s shoulder. 

The touch melted away Hanguang-jun’s character development, earning Harry a glare that he pretended to ignore. 

To distract himself, he produced the pouch with the money Wei Wuxian gave him earlier. “Here. Since you’re taking him, you should be the one administrating it. What did you do with the radio and TV?” 

Wei Wuxian pocketed the money without protest. “Oh! I gutted them and even tried to incorporate some of their design in my inventions. Almost blew up half a town once,” he added, laughing. “My nephew lost his eyebrows that day! You remember that, don’t you, Sizhui? By the way, do you know if he’s coming to the party?”

“I do remember and yes, he’s coming,” Master Lan replied, his fond smile never leaving his face. He leaned forward and whispered to Wei Wuxian’s ear. “Don’t forget the invitation.”

“Right, right, right!” Wei Wuxian answered. He turned to Harry. “We’re celebrating my birthday tonight! Harry, Wizard Dresden, join us as the other guest of honor!” 

“Guest of honor? Isn’t that a bit—” A bit much. He had just done a job the night before. Nothing that warranted such a thing. 

“Harry, it’s your birthday too,” Bob whispered from his skull.

Even then, it took a beat for the idea to sink. 

“Oh. It is,” Harry Dresden, still the very tired master of poetry, acknowledged taking a look at the Halloween decorations on the street.

Amused, Master Lan squeezed Harry’s shoulder. “We’ve done our research. Go rest, Wizard Dresden. We’ll send a car to pick you up around seven, if that’s agreeable to you.” 

An idea came to Harry before he could say that said arrangement would indeed be agreeable.

“Actually, traffic at that hour during a holiday is a nightmare. It’d be better if you sent someone with a sword to fly me there.” 

“Very well. It will be done,” Master Lan said as if he received that kind of requests every day—which he probably did. 

Moments later, Harry all but skipped his way up the stairs to his apartment to take that well-deserved sleep while Mouse took care of his well-deserved snacks. As for Bob’s well-deserved books, he’d go get them after lunch and a stop to buy a new set of clothes. Harry reached his bed and flopped on it. It crossed his mind how rare the feeling of everything going well in the world was, but he would enjoy it while it lasted.