Work Text:
“You know, Professor Shen,” said Jiajia, loitering in the doorway after their meeting. “I wondered if you knew that you could watch videos on your new phone? Like, short wildlife documentaries? I know you’re interested in, ah, animals. My little sister’s really into wildlife programmes, I could send you some links if you want? It can be hard to find good video if you’re not used to searching Youku and Bilibili, and…other sites.”
She trailed off, probably because Shen Wei’s face was signalling that she’d lost him somewhere in that last sentence.
He blinked at her, dragging his mind away from the course design they’d been discussing. Videos? Was this an appropriate line of discussion with a student? Then again, Jiajia had helped him locate pictures of bears to send to his boyfriend, so all hope of an entirely professional student-teacher relationship was long gone.
He did, technically, know that he could watch videos on his phone. Zhao Yunlan had sent him some. Some of them had even featured bears doing things that were seemingly perceived as cute by implausible numbers of viewers. There had been one of tiny cubs following their mother through the snow that…anyway. It was true that he had little idea how Zhao Yunlan had located these videos, however, and he’d never got round to asking him. Maybe he could share some with him in return, if he knew more? And Jiajia was evidently trying to be kind.
“That sounds very helpful,” he said, pushing up his glasses and smiling at her. “I do still find negotiating new sites somewhat challenging.”
“Great,” Jiajia said. “Thanks for the meeting, I’ll get onto those revisions,” and she waved and left.
Shen Wei looked after her for a moment, and then returned to the pile of essays in front of him, dismissing the conversation from his mind.
True to her word, though, Jiajia messaged him a number of links. Shen Wei left them until he was eating lunch in his office: alone and slightly disconsolate about it, because Zhao Yunlan was very busy with a rash of suspicious burglaries, and was stuck at the SID all day. Whatever Jiajia had sent might be a distraction.
He clicked on the first link, which was a charming five minute video of bears salmon-fishing in Alaska. He watched it twice. He had no idea how to save it or ensure he could watch it again, but then he had the link in his phone, so Zhao Yunlan could explain to him.
Then he clicked on the second link. A man with a slightly familiar look about him, wearing a cap with a panda logo on it, was standing amid some trees and talking to the camera.
“Today, I’m here with the World Wildlife Fund, investigating the practice of bear poaching and bear farming,” he said, gazing into the camera with a serious face. “We are working together to help to raise awareness of this issue, and ensure that all animals are treated with respect.”
Bear poaching? Shen Wei frowned at the tiny screen, and directed all his considerable focus towards it.
Zhao Yunlan got home very late, and let himself in.
“Shen Wei?” he called quietly, taking his shoes off. It had been a tiring day. He wanted to rest his eyes on Shen Wei’s face, and maybe fall asleep draped over him. Possibly he would make it into their bed first. The chances of this would be higher if Shen Wei was already in bed, as he might be at this hour.
There was a sound, though—someone talking. TV? No, Shen Wei never watched TV. Zhao Yunlan padded into the study.
“Hey,” he said. “What are you…?”
In the light of his desk lamp, Shen Wei was gazing intently at his laptop screen, where someone was taking in a serious-presenter kind of voice about…forests? There was a notebook open beside him, with a pen. He startled as Zhao Yunlan came in, and pulled the screen closed.
Zhao Yunlan raised his eyebrows.
“Working?” he said.
Shen Wei turned round to face him, and smiled, though there was something troubled in his face. “Ah, yes,” he said. “I was…catching up with something.” He adjusted his glasses, which was a tell that he was feeling guilty. Maybe about working. Maybe because he hadn’t been working, and he didn’t want to tell Zhao Yunlan what he’d been doing instead.
It had taken a long time for Zhao Yunlan to recognize that Shen Wei was constitutionally incapable of not keeping things secret, purposefully or not, and that Zhao Yunlan didn’t always need to know everything. And it had taken Shen Wei equally long to appreciate that if any of his secrets affected his health or safety, or anyone else’s health and safety, up to and including the entire population of Haixing or Dixing, he needed to tell Zhao Yunlan.
They were working on it. It was going pretty well. So if Shen Wei didn’t want to tell Zhao Yunlan about what he’d been watching, that was fine.
“I’m tired,” Zhao Yunlan said, yawning widely. “Are you coming to bed?”
“Of course,” Shen Wei said, pushing back his desk chair and standing up. “Do you need anything? A hot drink, food?”
“Just you. I ate at the office.” Shen Wei stepped closer and Zhao Yunlan let himself lean against him, feeling Shen Wei’s arms come round him. He rubbed the side of his face against the softness of Shen Wei’s sweater, and held on to him. “Mmm. Soft. I like it.” He closed his eyes.
“Sleep,” said Shen Wei, warm and amused. “Come on, A-lan. I’ll take you to bed.”
Zhao Yunlan was asleep almost immediately, curled round Shen Wei. At some point in the night, though, he half woke up to find that the rest of the bed was empty. He wondered briefly where Shen Wei was, turned over and stretched out into the space, and fell asleep again.
In the morning, Shen Wei was sitting up in bed beside him, reading a science journal in his pyjamas and dressing gown. Zhao Yunlan pushed himself up enough to lean over and brush a kiss across his lips. As he did, he vaguely registered that Shen Wei smelled of the outdoors, of fresh air, his skin chilly. It was odd, but pleasant. Maybe he’d got up to train in the garden, as he sometimes did, or even in one of their nearby parks.
He might have asked, but his phone buzzed with a message, and he groaned and rolled over, memories of all the legwork still to do on the new case resurfacing, and crowding out all other thoughts.
The day was finally nearing its end, and Zhao Yunlan was sprawled out on the sofa and starting to consider how soon he could go home. He’d already given all the new recruits the last couple of hours off, they’d worked pretty hard over the last few forty-eight hours. He hadn’t heard from Shen Wei, who had a fairly busy teaching day: he wanted to see him over dinner, spend some proper time together. His team had tracked down the Dixingren teenagers who’d been using minor shoplifting powers to steal expensive jewellery, and now all that was required was endless paperwork. He was trying to summon up the energy to at least start on it before leaving the office.
“Chief,” Lin Jing called. “Did you see this one?”
Lin Jing was trawling through all the requests for SID assistance that had come in while they were tied up with these burglaries, to see if any of them were genuinely their business. Now that people were more aware of their existence, the police in particular were making heroic efforts to claim that as many cases as possible might have Dixingren involvement and thus required SID help.
Zhao Yunlan groaned. Da Qing padded across from his desk to read over Lin Jing’s shoulder.
“The stuff about those bears getting out?” he said. “That was in the news. What, do the police think we’re some kind of wildlife agency now?”
“Just because you’re domesticated,” said Zhao Yunlan, yawning. “Bears, huh? What’s it got to do with us?”
“The three bear farms closest to Dragon City were attacked by, I don’t know, animal rights activists or something,” Lin Jing said, clicking on his screen. “All the bears escaped. Someone notified a couple of the charities and they sent people over; it’s a whole mess, they can’t find all the animals, innocent villagers in a panic, outraged business owners, you know the deal…oh shit.”
Zhao Yunlan sat up. “What?”
Lin Jing pointed out something on the screen to Da Qing, and Da Qing made a hissing sound.
“What?” said Zhao Yunlan, starting to get up.
‘Ah,” said Lin Jing, swivelling to face him. He and Da Qing had identical expressions of comical dismay. “The charities were notified by, ah. Handwritten notes. On parchment. One woman described the calligraphy as, quote, perfect.”
Zhao Yunlan rubbed his forehead with one hand. “Shit,” he said.
“Were you…with the Professor last night?” Lin Jing asked, delicately.
“Yes,” said Zhao Yunlan, with momentary relief. “Or—damn it. I was wrecked. I don’t know if I would’ve noticed if Shen Wei had…” He remembered, dimly, waking up in bed alone, and his stomach clenched.
Da Qing was scrolling through the report. “These farms are two hundred miles apart. And they were hit within the same hour. No-one saw anything.”
Zhao Yunlan put his head in his hands for a moment. Then he blew out a breath, and sat up.
“Were bad things happening to bears on these farms, by any chance?” he said.
Lin Jing shrugged. “Arguably. Depends on your perspective. I mean, they use the bears for, I don’t know, bile? Medicine.”
“They’re trapped there,” Da Qing added. He folded his arms and gave Zhao Yunlan a meaningful stare.
Zhao Yunlan spared a thought to be extremely grateful that the three of them were the only people left in the office.
“Like you said, wildlife crimes aren’t our responsibility,” he said. “Calligraphy isn’t a Dixingren power, nor is breaking and entering. With no concrete evidence of Dixing involvement or supernatural activity, I think we should leave this to the proper authorities to investigate. Given our existing caseload.”
Da Qing gave him an approving nod. Lin Jing looked sceptical. “And what if they do find something?” he said.
Zhao Yunlan spread his hands. “Then we’ll investigate it. As is our job.”
Lin Jing and Da Qing traded glances. “Fine,” Lin Jing said. “I’ll return it with the usual note. Just…you realise those aren’t the only bear farms in Haixing, right? Or, you know, in the world.”
“Noted,” Zhao Yunlan said, grimly. He pushed himself off the sofa. “I’ll be knocking off early, then. I have an urgent errand at home. I’ve already forgotten we had this conversation, and so have you two, right?”
“Right, Chief,” Da Qing said. “Good luck. I’ll be, ah, staying at the old apartment for the next few days, in case of…” He twirled a hand.
Zhao Yunlan rolled his eyes at him, and headed out.
When Shen Wei let himself in, an hour or so later, Zhao Yunlan was in his desk chair, watching something on the computer screen.
“What are you…?” Shen Wei started to ask, and then trailed off as he recognized the video.
“This actor looks a bit like you,” Zhao Yunlan said, conversationally. “Only less good-looking.” He turned the chair round, and contemplated Shen Wei. “Were you going to tell me about this?”
Shen Wei straightened. “I didn’t wish to cause you trouble.”
“I looked up your browsing history. Which other people can do too, you know. So I can see you did your homework. Tell me you didn’t run the same searches at work.”
Shen Wei winced. He was sure he had been told, by Zhao Yunlan, how to delete his search history, but he had forgotten it was a possibility.
“I see,” said Zhao Yunlan. He sounded tired. Shen Wei swallowed his guilt, and his urge to apologize.
“It was necessary,” he said, quietly. “In my unique position, I was able to speak with the creatures involved. And having done that, I could not leave them to suffer.”
Zhao Yunlan tipped his head back in the chair, and took a couple of long breaths, then sat up again. Shen Wei waited, tense. Zhao Yunlan was perfectly within his rights to be furious with him, or deeply upset. The negotiations between Haixing and Dixing were still fragile and ongoing: for Dixing’s Envoy to take this kind of direct action on Haixing’s soil was, he knew, entirely unacceptable.
“What happened to the bears?” Zhao Yunlan asked. “I mean, they’re not going to show up in our back garden or whatever, right?”
Shen Wei blinked at him. “I left them in a place of safety.”
“OK. Good. Actually, don’t tell me any more, probably a bad idea. Shen Wei.” He sighed. “You’re not feeling the urge to make this public or confess to the Ministry, are you?”
“No,” Shen Wei said. “That is, unless you ask me to, in which case—”
“No, definitely not,” Zhao Yunlan said, holding up a hand to stop him. “Bad idea. But you know, these weren’t the only Haixing bears that might be, ah, unhappy. If you’re planning on rescuing all of them…”
Shen Wei folded his hands in front of him, and looked down at them. “I hadn’t thought that far ahead,” he confessed. “I meant only to investigate, quietly. To see if the claims—” he gestured at the screen “—were true. But when I got there…” He looked up and met Zhao Yunlan’s eyes, willing him to understand.
Zhao Yunlan held his gaze. “I love you,” he said. “And I understand why you did what you did. But I think we need a longer term solution.”
“Longer term?” said Shen Wei. “And I love you too, Zhao Yunlan.”
“I know.” Zhao Yunlan smiled at him, and Shen Wei sagged in relief. “I’ve got some ideas, but I’ll need your help.”
“And now we come to the new subclauses recently proposed for the Treaty,” Minister Guo said, looking round the committee table. Zhao Yunlan stopped lounging in his chair, trying not to look as though he was expiring from boredom, and sat up. He could see his father giving him a suspicious look from further down the table, which for once was entirely justified.
Everyone shuffled the papers in front of them. “Subclause 25.i.b and 25.i.c,” Minister Guo’s assistant said, in a polite murmur. “Page ninety-four of your document. Highlighted.”
“What’s this?” said one of the more irascible committee members, who represented the judiciary. “Some kind of animal rights nonsense? What business is it of Dixing how we handle this? I mean, we already have laws against poaching. I don’t see that anything new is necessary.”
“The agencies are stretched thin,” said the woman with grey hair, whose name Zhao Yunlan always forgot. Wang something. “If Dixing are suggesting that some of their people could use their, ah, abilities to assist us to eradicate the poaching trade, then I see no reason to object.”
“Poaching’s one thing,” said another elderly man. “But that second clause? Bear farming is vital for traditional medicine, what are they suggesting we do instead? They can’t just waltz in and propose we shut down entire industries. People’s livelihoods are dependent on it!”
Several people started talking at once, with Minister Guo trying to intercede. Zhao Yunlan let the debate run for a while, so that everyone felt they’d had the chance to say something, and then coughed. When no-one paid attention, he tapped his water glass with his pen.
“Excuse me,” he said.
“Chief Zhao,” said Minister Guo, gesturing to the others to subside. “You had something to add?”
“I did.” Zhao Yunlan looked round the table. “With all due respect to the seniority of this committee, what I’m not sure you’re taking into account is that—is that bears are sacred to Dixingren. They’re, ah, part of their—” he waved a hand “—whole mythology thing. Legends and so on. It’s not talked about much, so I wouldn’t ask if I were you. But I can vouch in my professional capacity that Hei Pao Shi can also actively communicate with bears, and he told me about this history himself.”
There were murmurs of incredulity from some of the representatives round the table. Zhao Yunlan stared them down.
“As a Dixing power, talking with bears would hardly be the strangest we’ve heard of,” said his father, unexpectedly helpful.
Minister Guo rubbed his forehead. “So you’re saying, Chief Zhao, that we need to agree to these subclauses. As colleagues have noted, it will cause a certain amount of backlash.”
“If you—we—don’t agree, then Hei Pao Shi and a Dixing army might decide to free every captive bear in Haixing, kill the captors, and let them run loose,” Zhao Yunlan added. “That would be entirely in line with their sacred, uh, their beliefs.”
There was silence around the table, as the committee pictured Shen Wei at the head of an army of very angry bears. At least, that was what Zhao Yunlan was picturing. He couldn’t decide if it was ridiculous, or hot.
“Very well,” said Minister Guo. “Relatively speaking, I suppose this is a minor request.” He looked round the table. No-one spoke up to disagree, though several of them looked unhappy. “Granted, then,” he said. “And now let us move on to the arrangements for the first formal visit of Dixing’s new leadership.”
Zhao Yunlan tried not to smile to himself, and pasted an expression of keen attention on his face.
**
Shen Wei was lurking just outside the Ministry building, in the car park, practically wringing his hands and pacing. Zhao Yunlan wasn’t quite sure if he was intending to burst through the doors in his full regalia, if the committee ruse hadn’t worked, and threaten people. He had carefully not asked.
“It worked,” he said, grinning at Shen Wei. “They approved the subclauses. It’ll take some time to implement, I expect, but it’s about to be set in stone. Literally, in the case of Dixing’s version.”
“They approved both of them?” said Shen Wei, relief spreading over his face.
“They did. I may have, ah, used your bear-charming abilities as leverage, though.”
Shen Wei lifted a shoulder. “Acceptable.”
“So,” said Zhao Yunlan, rocking back on his heels and putting his hands in his pockets. “I solved the problem, with a little help from our Dixing government friends, saved the bears, and now you owe me many favours.” He raised an eyebrow.
Shen Wei looked momentarily uncertain, and then his expression cleared, and sharpened.
“I see,” he said, stepping closer. “What form did you think these…favours…might take?”
“I, ah,” said Zhao Yunlan, distracted by the way that Shen Wei was looking him up and down. He bit his bottom lip. “I thought they might take the form of…”
Shen Wei interrupted him by pulling him into a kiss, not gentle, but immediately fierce and heated. When he let Zhao Yunlan go, Zhao Yunlan nearly stumbled; his legs had gone weak.
“Yes, that,” he managed to say.
“Also acceptable,” Shen Wei said, lower. “I am indeed in your debt. I will repay you however you ask.”
Zhao Yunlan swallowed. “Can we go straight home, right now?”
Shen Wei nodded, looked around to see that nobody was watching, and whirled them home. It had been a while since he’d used his powers to take them somewhere: Zhao Yunlan laughed with delight, dizzy with the rush of it. And then Shen Wei pulled him into another kiss, and he stopped laughing.
**
“Xiao Wei?” Zhao Yunlan said, some time later. He was stretched diagonally across the bed, in a state of blissful collapse.
“Hmm?” One of Shen Wei’s legs was over his, Zhao Yunlan stroked it.
“What if you were leading an army of bears?”
There was a dubious silence. “Bears tend to be a solitary species,” Shen Wei said, after some time. “It is unlikely they would work together in such a way.”
“Ah well,” said Zhao Yunlan, philosophically.
They were quiet for a while. “Also, I do not think it would be appropriate for a group of bears to be led by a human, or a Dixingren,” Shen Wei added.
“Pity,” Zhao Yunlan said. “If there was some real reason why we needed a bear army, though?”
“Then I would do my best to oblige.”
“Call on the bears if, you know, we’re facing a time of darkest need, the ultimate evil, or so on.” Zhao Yunlan attempted to roll on his side, with effort, and smiled at Shen Wei in the dim light. “Stick to cute bear videos for now, though?”
“Indeed,” said Shen Wei, smiling back.