"I watched over them all, not able to take part in their lives. Every time one died, I selfishly prayed for his return." Shěn Wēi laughs wryly, "Funny thing is I don't even know who I was praying to. What I do know is that Chaos calls and our story is a tragedy, destined to be. This time with Zhào Yúnlán is a gift. No matter the source, it is a gift."

Cheng Xinyan looks around at the many placards. The sheer number of them shatters her heart and her soul bleeds for the man in front of her. "Are you going to tell him?"

Shěn Wēi signs, "Eventually, he must know everything."

"Do you know what you are going to say?"

The memory of the question flashes in Shěn Wēi's mind. He stands in the wormhole and watches the meeting of Zhào Yúnlán as Chieftain Kūnlún and his past younger self. He felt the stirring of a long-forgotten hope and unconsciously cowered from it. A fear he never had to consider before now brought tears to his eyes. Was being unbound even a possibility?

Shěn Wēi had been born a Ghost King, a savage little thing with no cultivation. Nevertheless, he drew the favor of a great warrior. Shěn Wēi fell in love with that warrior. He fought by his side until his beloved warrior fell.

As the Black Cloak Envoy, Shěn Wēi took up his warrior's flame and placed it in his heart. He took up his warrior's dāo and pressed forward, ending the war and forging a treaty between the races.

A treaty that saved countless lives, including the one life Shěn Wēi would suffer the unfathomable to protect.

His warrior would live on, reincarnated as the Lord Guardian, but he could never know who they had once been to each other.

Therefore, for ten millennia, Shěn Wēi only appeared before Zhào Yúnlán in his final moments of life. Witnesses, scattered throughout history, often mistook him for a Reaper. Shěn Wēi appeared as the Black Cloak Envoy paying his final respects to the Lord Guardian.

These terms were unarguable to the Kings of Hell who hoped to usurp the Black Cloak Envoy; non-negotiable to anyone who did not want to taste the Ghost Slayer's blade. Anything more could risk Zhào Yúnlán's ability to reincarnate. Anything less was unthinkable chaos. That is what made these last six months such a beautiful burden.

Shěn Wēi was weary. He had endured Zhào Yúnlán's shameless flirting, skirted his repeating advances, and spun lie, after lie, after lie. All to keep his greatest desire at arm's length. He suffered their truth alone.

Their meeting, in this life, had been accidental. A series of unfortunate events that now seemed planned by the Fates themselves, to lead them to this very moment, one for which Shěn Wēi had never dared hope.

Now, Zhào Yúnlán stood before him. His eyes, so often sparkling with shameless mischief, were a foxfire torrent of emotion.

"It took me 10,000 years to find you...,"

The words quietly leave Shěn Wēi's lips. Poetically, the only other sound's the sweep of a faint chuckle and ragged breath. The foxfire flares, but it is what smolders beneath, which causes heat to blossom across Shěn Wēi's skin. Recognition.

As expected, Shěn Wēi's resolve shatters the moment Zhào Yúnlán embraces him.

"Shěn Wēi -a..."

Shěn Wēi swoons. His name, spoken with such devotion, is a valediction to the silent prayers of a thousand broken hearts. Shěn Wēi closes his eyes, defeated, and sheds tears for countless more to come.

"If only..." he whispers.

Zhào Yúnlán stiffens in his arms. His voice muffled, full of emotion.

"Is this the real world or a dream world?"

In the distance, a dog barks, and a bell chimes.

~~~~~~~~

Shěn Wēi opens his eyes as he feels Zhào Yúnlán roll away to haphazardly grope the night table. He watches for the momentary pause in Zhào Yúnlán's movements. Zhào Yúnlán is trying to avoid knocking over the glass of water Shěn Wēi had often kept there for him.

Shěn Wēi's smile is full of melancholy and the space where the glass used to sit, is empty.

Zhào Yúnlán proceeds with a feather touch, locating his phone without ever opening his eyes. He rolls towards Shěn Wēi's embrace. Shěn Wēi molds himself into the back of Zhào Yúnlán. His eyes sting with tears threatening to stain the pillow beneath his head. He closes his eyes and buries his face.

The dream, once again, has left him with such a sense of longing and loss. No memory can console him. Distraught, Shěn Wēi seeks comfort by burying himself deeper into the image of warmth. He inhales deeply, filling his lungs. His mind tells him that the scent is distinctly Zhào Yúnlán.

His arms wrap tightly around the almost non-existent waist. Unabashedly, his fingers splay across a muscular chest. He takes another deep breath and allows the heart beating into his palm, to lull him back to sleep.

~~~~~~~~

Zhào Yúnlán groans sleepily as he grabs his phone. He turns away from the window into the pillow. His eyelids felt like sandpaper, the light burning into them told him that it was late afternoon. The twinge in his temple was residual from a hangover from hell. He did not remember going out but he must have drunk far more than his limit.

With a sigh, he presses the button to open his phone and cracks open an eyelid. The screen is dark. Forcing both eyes to open to a squint, he presses the button again. The dead battery indicator flashes across the screen. It must have rung then died. At least, he thought he heard it ring.

He racks his brain trying to remember if a phone had rung in the dream. It had been one of those dissociative ones where he was himself, but not himself. For some reason, even having forgotten most of it, the dream had made him extremely sad.

"Strange," he mumbles.

Shěn Wēi must have been busy to not come behind him and plug it in for him. He often anticipated Zhào Yúnlán's shortcomings and prevented them from becoming hindrances.

Zhào Yúnlán would have expected Shěn Wēi to not only plug in his phone but to set an alarm. The alarm would ensure that Zhào Yúnlán woke early enough to suffer the full extent of his hangover. Punishment for drinking to excess and making Shěn Wēi worry through the night.

Shěn Wēi would wake him, stuff him full of luó wàngzǐ zhōu and coconut water, and then go about the daily tasks. After eating, Zhào Yúnlán would bumble around attempting to help. However, he would often be too hungover to be of any real assistance.

His nausea kept him out of the kitchen as Shěn Wēi cooked. Although, Shěn Wēi never really wanted Zhào Yúnlán to do anything in the kitchen, other than to keep him company anyway. As talented as he was with range weapons and blades, he could not dice onions or slice carrots evenly to save a life.

It was not for lack of trying, the man was simply a disaster in the kitchen.

Cleaning was another story entirely. Zhào Yúnlán would constantly interrupt Shěn Wēi's work to ask where things were or where something else belonged. Zhào Yúnlán was like one of his dear Professor's attention-deprived students, siphoning from his limitless well of patience. Of course, he acted that way because it was his patient professor.

Eventually, Shěn Wēi would allow Zhào Yúnlán to lie back down. He would then crawl in behind the hungover man and pull him to his chest. He relished the feeling of cool skin, smooth as jade, pressed against him. In the beginning, Zhào Yúnlán had felt guilty about it.

"Xiao Wei'a?"

"Mn?" Shěn Wēi's muffled response vibrated through Zhào Yúnlán's neck, raising goosebumps down his back.

"I know you have a lot of work to do. You needn't stay to watch over me. I just need a few more hours sleep and I will be good as new."

Shěn Wēi raised his head slightly so that his voice rang clear in Zhào Yúnlán's ear.

"Do you think I do this for you? I do it for me. Do you think I sleep soundly while you are out drinking your way into another gastric episode? I have stayed up half the night waiting in case you were too drunk to come home. When you arrive, you are filthy and smell of smoke. I help you wash your hair, clean your soiled clothes, and prepare foods to help you recover. After all of this am I not also deserving of some rest?"

The chilly edge of Shěn Wēi's voice caused Zhào Yúnlán to turn to look into the man's eyes. What he saw was fear so deeply embedded he wondered if he would be able to reach it in this lifetime.

"Hǎo ba, hǎo ba. Nǐ shì dāngjiāde, okay? I'm sorry. Let's get some rest." Zhào Yúnlán pulled Shěn Wēi to his chest and kissing his forehead. They doze off and Zhào Yúnlán is transported, once again, into the wormhole.

The Hallows had shown Zhào Yúnlán the root of Shěn Wēi's devotion. Shěn Wēi's love for him was immeasurable, long ago crossing the threshold of obsession. Shěn Wēi wanted nothing more than to be at his man's side. Yet, he exhibited a level of restraint that could only have been cultivated through discipline and time.

Shěn Wēi, the Black Cloak Envoy, a being more powerful than all the Kings of Hell, did laundry. He cleaned the Dog Lair. He made tea. He cooked bland dishes for Zhào Yúnlán's sensitive stomach when he, himself, loved to eat spicy ones. All without complaint. Instead, Shěn Wēi used these tasks as a way to focus his energy. The beauty of it was staggering. Zhào Yúnlán vowed always to be worthy of it.

"How could I even begin to live without you, Xiao Wei?" Zhào Yúnlán whispered into the quiet room.

His back was slightly chilled, but it was comforting and familiar. In the quiet of the afternoon, Zhào Yúnlán could almost feel Shěn Wēi's arms tighten around his waist. He pressed himself into the pillow. The fading scent of fallen peach tree leaves surrounded him, slightly decayed, but with the crisp bite of mountain snow.

He snuggled deeper into his pillow until he felt the dream satchel Shěn Wēi had placed there. He had forgotten about it until now. He wondered how many other little things he had forgotten about along the way.

He takes a deep breath, filling his lungs with Shěn Wēi's comforting scent. Pain shoots through him and the vision behind his lids flashes white.

When the pain ebbs, he opens his eyes and looks down. He feels battered and bruised, but his bare chest shows no signs of injury. He wonders if all the extracurricular activities with his Professor were catching up with him.

The thought brings a chuckle to his throat, one that he quickly stifles. He does not want to wake the precious soul wrapped around his back. He found that quieting the awakening desire pooling beneath his belly, was not as easy. When it came to Shěn Wēi, Zhào Yúnlán was insatiable.

Zhào Yúnlán was amazed that they had been able to coordinate time together. No cases were pending at SID. The University had suspended classes during the outbreak. There was nothing, no one to distract them from each other.

So, when there was a knock at the door, Zhào Yúnlán ignored it.

This stolen time was precious. It was theirs. They earned it. They deserved it. They were not moving for anything or anyone. He and Shěn Wēi were going to lay there, unmoving, and basking in each other's love all day. If they had to do anything outside of the apartment, Shěn Wēi was just going to have to portal the entire bed to where ever. Whoever interrupts their day better hope and pray that Zhào Yúnlán bothers to grab pants during the entire fiasco.

Resolute, Zhào Yúnlán draws a deep breath, his stomach growls. He sniffs.

"Is that huǒguō?" His stomach growls louder as if also questioning the fragrant air. "When did Shěn Wēi get up to cook?"

Zhào Yúnlán's mind tries to put together the timeline. For the life of him, he could not recall just how long he had been lying there. He could not remember Shěn Wēi joining him in bed or leaving it to cook.

Zhào Yúnlán's stomach growls for the third time. 

Slightly frustrated that he would have to give in to the less fun of his primal hungers, he attempts to sit up. His head swims and his body refuses to cooperate. His limbs felt weighted by something other than gravity. It was as if he was trying to move through sludge as he peeled back the duvet.

It takes him a minute to get his bearing after he stands. He sees Shěn Wēi in the kitchen with his back to the main room. Zhào Yúnlán wants to immediately go to him and partake in the missed morning lip therapy. But, seeing as how Shěn Wēi was already dressed, Zhào Yúnlán thought it best to first brush his teeth.

He plods toward the bathroom. The fog of sleep having yet to dissipate, the room sways. He realizes he feels less like he is hungover and more like he has been drugged.

He turns to call out to Shěn Wēi, but he notices something off about him as well. He stares at the normally regal back, Shěn Wēi's posture was slumped. His shoulders curled forward over the counter as he worked. 

Fearful of the last time he had found Shěn Wēi in the kitchen like this, he immediately takes a step into  his direction but he is pushed back. The dark energy field that Shěn Wēi puts up for protection refuses to let him in.

"Xiao Wei, what are you doing?" 

Shěn Wēi does not respond. Ice begins to form in Zhào Yúnlán's veins. He again tries to break the surface of the field but is forced back a second time.

"Shěn Wēi 'a? What are you doing?"

Silence.

"Shěn Wēi? You answer me right now. Shěn Wēi!"

Bracing for recoil, Zhào Yúnlán slams his fist into the field. He watches the ripple dissipate throughout the field but there is still no reaction from Shěn Wēi.

The foxfire in his eyes flares.

He slams his open palm against the field.  Amber light leaves his palm and engages the force field. The reactive energy tosses him back toward the bed. His head connects with the frame. There is a flash of light before the room goes dark.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N:

Dàjiā hǎo!

Hope you all are safe and well. The zombie apocalypse is still in full swing and I am still slower than pahoehoe.

I have managed to bang out two chapters and a ton of blurbs. Well, it is more like seven chapters full of blurbs but you know what I mean.

Look for the next chapter sooner than late.... is that a chipmunk? What happened to the squirrel?

I lurve you all bunches and bunches!

Links to Author's that are so damn good I had to climb into their universe can be found here:

Vocabulary can be found here:

Love letters may or may not be found here: