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Lu Guang has never been a man of many ambitions.

As a child, his goals consisted of living until he turned eighty, and not a whole lot else. All of the dreams the other kids toted around seemed far too tiring, and he was content without such whimsies. And that was back when his biggest concern was whether his mother had cleaned his favorite shirt or not.

From there, life grew more tiring, sometimes downright painful. People try to give advice about it all the time – that it’s a part of the human condition, that it’s bound to happen, that “It’s just how life works, kid,” and he just needed to develop coping strategies, and keep getting up to try again.

Lu Guang wasn’t and isn’t happy with that batch of bullshit, so he decided that the ‘effort’ everyone always seemed to have a little too much of wasn’t for him.

He declared that most things are inherently annoying, bathing in the sunlight is the only appropriate use of an afternoon, and there’s little greater in life than a good meal. For these reasons, Lu Guang thinks he would honestly say that he despises most of the world.

Despite his parents' concerns about that way of thinking, this had worked out pretty well for him so far. He had considered himself one of the least stressed people he knew until a fateful someone found his way into his contact list.

Strangely, he doesn’t hate Cheng Xiaoshi. He hasn’t taken the time to analyze what this means.

Anyway, now that he’s paying attention, they’re several blocks ahead of where they’re supposed to be.

With a bit of bite, less aimed at Xiaoshi and more aimed at himself, Lu Guang says, “She misses the bus, so stop walking to the station for now.”

It’s Lu Guang’s fault for forgetting how briskly Xiaoshi can walk.

What should I do instead? Xiaoshi asks through the connection.

Just looking in the shop window is fine. Looking through your phone won’t do anything either, but don’t check your messages.

Alright.

He turns to a display, eyeing the intricate detail on a dress that’s probably worth more than their entire photo shop. In around five minutes, he’ll have to continue walking to the bus station and ask the customer service desk when the next bus to Dong Jie is coming, and he’ll do exactly as he’s told to. Without complaint.

Two months ago, before his unwanted break from work, Lu Guang would have been pleased with this, praising Xiaoshi for using his brain for once in his life and listening. Today, he only sighs.

If he’d known that the events of that night would lead to this, he would’ve found a way to let Xiaoshi get stabbed instead. That might have affected him less.

Lu Guang has been home for about two and a half weeks, and would say that he’s mostly recovered.

Sure, he’ll stretch on his way out of bed and pull on skin that no longer has the same elasticity as it once did, sometimes he’ll startle at Qiao Ling if the lighting looks off, and his diet has been very unfortunately suppressed by the positioning of the injury, but aside from all that he’d call himself pretty much fine.

He’d call Xiaoshi an over-reactive disaster.

That isn’t unusual for him. Xiaoshi never responds to these things properly, panicking blindly in an attempt to resolve them and always causing greater issues than there were in the first place. Always figuring out a way to blame himself, even if he was the one wronged. Inevitably this would leave Lu Guang to figure out how to fix everything. It’s annoying, because unlike most other times, Lu Guang isn’t sure there’s actually a right answer.

If he does nothing, Cheng Xiaoshi will continue to do his work like the perfectly obedient time traveler he’s pretending to be right now, and that would honestly take a lot of weight off of Lu Guang’s shoulders. Unfortunately, that weight would be promptly replaced by a great deal of unsolicited concern for Xiaoshi’s damn near irreparable mental health.

So, he might instead push his friend towards recovery and relieve some of that stress. But, if he does that, Xiaoshi might return to his old ways of living to spite Lu Guang’s instructions, which would, again, directly negate the positive effects.

A double edged sword. Maybe just a hiltless sheet of metal.

He knows what would be morally correct, but if he’s being honest with himself, Lu Guang is far from a master of emotional connections. There’s a real possibility that any attempt to help would only worsen the issues, and Xiaoshi’s health already looks like it’s declining more than his.

He checks his watch. This is going to be a problem for later.

We’ve been here for enough time.

Cheng Xiaoshi startles. He glances around, as though he can’t piece together what to do next. Lu Guang knows for certain that he can, that he would have before, but elaborates anyway.

You need to head to the bus station. When we get there, ask a worker when the next bus to Dong Jie is arriving.

Which-

It doesn’t matter which worker you ask.

Xiaoshi obliges. He keeps repeating the instructions in his head. He’s been doing that the whole time. Initially, it had annoyed Lu Guang.

He never did that before, even when Lu Guang wished he would have. He doesn’t know whether or not he should be pointing it out or pretending he doesn’t notice.

What Lu Guang does know – though he’d never admit it – is that this whole situation is by far the most stress-inducing bullshit he’s ever dealt with in his life. He knows that he’s the one that needs to do something about it, and so he intends to.

But this doesn’t seem like the right time.

Lu Guang, above all else, has mastered the art of lying to himself.

It will never seem like the right time. At dinner, at the grocery store, late at night when he knows that they’re both awake but can’t bring himself to break the silence, on missions during quiet periods; it’ll always seem like a bad time.

To be completely fair, it usually is. He’s not just making excuses. Seeing a mask slip during a shopping trip when Xiaoshi thinks he sees something in the corner of his eye doesn’t make for a good time just because it’s a relevant time. Same with the missions, or odd moments during the day.

Late at night, Lu Guang admits, probably is a good time, but something always seems to hold him back.

It can’t be doing good things for his karma.

Cheng Xiaoshi is lying awake in a different time. Lu Guang thinks he looks pretty ridiculous, wearing a satin nightgown on a girly bed. He says as much, receiving a middle finger in response.

Their goal is simple: Min Lian lost a necklace from her late mother, and they need to find where it went. It went missing during the following morning, on route to work, but Lu Guang isn’t exactly sure when it happened. As such, he’s having Xiaoshi follow her routine to a T in order to track it down.

He’s made the decision to not disclose the exact plan to Xiaoshi, since being aware of losing the necklace will change where it ends up.

He’s also decided to not mention that she was already asleep at this point. Somehow, it doesn’t seem like “go to sleep faster,” will be particularly helpful. Granted, it really doesn’t seem like anything would be particularly helpful.

But Lu Guang has made a decision.

Xiaoshi? And he doesn’t care if he regrets it later.

What is it? Xiaoshi opens his eyes.

You want to talk about anything?

Uh. His parents had used that line with him a lot. He’d always hated it, but he can see what they were going for now. Should I?

Probably, Maybe he should’ve taken the hint from his younger self and said something else. Too late now. Emotions, or whatever.

Xiaoshi seems genuinely confused now. Emotions or whatever?

Sure.

Are you drunk?

Maybe he should be. That might help. I’m not.

“Uh-huh,” Xiaoshi mutters, “I believe that.”

Wipe such thoughts, I don’t drink. Yet. Talking about “feelings” makes people get over things more easily, so I figure that you should try it.

Lu Guang isn’t quite sure what he said wrong, but Xiaoshi’s breath hitches. What do you mean by that?

It’s, ah. After I’ve been back, you’ve been… He hadn’t thought through how to phrase it. He hadn’t thought through any of this. This was a bad idea. Acting a certain way. He says, tentatively.

Oh. I get it. Xiaoshi grips the comforter. I’m bothering you.

Not in the way he thinks, but he’s certainly raising Lu Guangs blood pressure. You’re not. You’ve just been reacting more extremely–

More extremely? Lu Guang changes his mind. He absolutely cares if he regrets it later. More extremely. That’s what I’ve been doing. It would be better if this was turning into an argument, but Xiaoshi seems to be taking it to heart.

Lu Guang isn’t entirely sure what he’d been hoping for going in, but he knows it wasn’t that. You don’t need to overthink this, I didn’t mean what you’re thinking I meant.

No, it’s fine, you’re right. You’re right. Xiaoshi blinks lazily.

Actually – No doubt about it, he fucked that up – There’s no need for that, we can talk about it later. Forget everything I said.

More extremely.

Lu Guang decides this is a fine time for a shower.

The chain to the necklace had broken in the apartment hallway in a rush to get to work. Lu Guang texts Qiao Ling promptly, but delays telling Xiaoshi until he boards the bus. Fifteen minutes later, their friend responds with a forwarded picture of the woman holding her mother’s charm, smiling gratefully.

A job well done, Qiao Ling captions.

And unrelatedly, Lu Guang is cooking scrambled eggs. Clearly emotions are not his forte, and the boba shop isn’t open yet, so.

Eggs.

“It’s an apology.”

Xiaoshi seems just off-put enough to not reject it outright. “Scrambled eggs.”

“An apology.”

He nods, slowly, “Alright. Eggs.”

Xiaoshi keeps a very tidy home. It had been a bit of a pleasant surprise for Lu Guang, he’d assumed that Xiaoshi would be the type to leave things anywhere he happened to put them, but no. He gave even Lu Guang’s mother a run for her money with how organized the building is.

Tidy. Organized. Not deep cleaned.

Sure, once a year or so they’d have a spring cleaning event that involved the window cleaner actually being pulled out and used, but that’s about the end of it.

Excluding today, apparently.

Xiaoshi has been scrubbing the floors excessively for the past three hours. Lu Guang is neither sure of the motivation for doing so or the source of this energy, but it’s far from infectious. Even pretending not to watch him is exhaustive.

Reluctantly, he looks up from his place behind the counter to ask, “Do you want any help with that?”

“No, I’m fine,” Xiaoshi replies, still scrubbing at the floor.

Lu Guang is fairly sure he’s going to rip up the tiling at this rate, but he just nods. “Suit yourself, I guess.”

Sometimes Qiao Ling won’t look at him.

It’s some sort of guilt thing. He’d forgiven her before she’d even thought to ask, but the air still seems more thick when she’s around.

Lu Guang isn’t well equipped for dealing with that, so he just gives her a boba. It’s open now. She stares at it for a while, lost in thought. Lu Guang isn’t sure what he should be doing, so he just stands there, waiting.

Thinking about how he’s doing a disservice to Xiaoshi’s hard work cleaning this floor.

When he finally decides he ought to be doing something else, she speaks up. “You can move on just like that?”

Lu Guang blinks. “Pretty much,” he says, cradling his hands in his jean pockets.

Qiao Ling takes a sip of her boba. “What a strange trait.”

“You think so?”

“I do," she says, almost fondly, “To everyone else, it’s still so fresh on their minds, but you can just go along with your days as if it never happened. It must be more peaceful, being you.”

Lu Guang would argue against that, having to deal with Xiaoshi all the time. “Maybe.”

She pulls up her phone, posing with her boba in a selfie. As the camera clicks, she says offhandedly, “Maybe it’s more exciting than you let on.”

“Certain people make it that way.”

She huffs humorously, “You’re not the first to say that. How about we watch a drama?”

“I’m not fueling your addiction.”

The police chief had sent him a get-well package during his stay at the hospital.

Lu Guang supposed he must have felt some of that metaphorical weight everyone else seems to have forced on themselves.

Well, not a lot of it. Today he’s sent the photo shop a manilla envelope with screen captures from a security camera in some bank parking lot.

At a glance, they seem like parts of some completely innocuous footage. Exactly what one might expect from the parking lot of a well secured bank.

The note clarifies the subject of interest. A car parked in the lot at 8:04 p.m. and drove off at 9:15 p.m., and they suspect that it may contain a child that was reported missing a few hours prior based on a tip. They want him to see if the child is inside, and if so, to get the license plate so they can track it down themselves.

A commission. For a not insignificant sum.

Deciding that sounds fair enough, he calls Xiaoshi over to take a look. They were – excessively – sent photos from every half hour between eight and ten, so he figures they might as well just get it over with.

No, it’s empty.

Even the trunk?

Xiaoshi leans over the car, out of view, presumably to press his ear to it. If there’s anything in there, it’s being awfully quiet about it. Short of breaking into the car, that’s all I can tell.

Lu Guang clicks his tongue. “Come back then, we’ll just let them know it’s a dead end.”

Affirming, Xiaoshi reappears in the room, and plops down next to Lu Guang. “You’re sure they don’t bring it later?”

“They come back to the car empty handed. The police wanted to find out for sure.”

“There’s nothing else we can do?” Lu Guang shakes his head. Xiaoshi rests his forearms against his knees, defeated.

“Would you like anything for dinner?”

“I’m not hungry.”

Lu Guang is fairly sure Xiaoshi hasn’t slept in over a day.

Now, to be fair, he hadn’t slept particularly well before, and neither did Lu Guang. But not sleeping well before the incident meant staying up too late on their phones and being sleep deprived the next day, not hours of insomnia creeping steadily closer to the triple digits.

Lu Guang thinks it’s perfectly reasonable to be concerned.

But he also wonders if helping is more of a pain than he’s willing to endure, as he tries to hand a coffee to an ungrateful Xiaoshi.

“Really, I don’t need it, it’s fine," he smiles pleasantly, as if that will make up for the 50 yuan Lu Guang spent on this stupid drink.

“You’re exhausted. Drink the coffee.”

“No, honestly," he says, “You don’t have to.”

Lu Guang glares, “I didn’t get it because I had to, I got it because I wanted to.” So get it through your thick skull.

Xiaoshi sighs and turns away. Lu Guang feels an eyebrow twitch.

“Look." He holds the coffee dramatically, “I already bought this coffee. I don’t want it. It is," he emphasizes, spilling a small amount of the drink, “For you. Drink it.”

He places the coffee on the table and stalks away.

When he comes back to clean up, the cup is empty.

Nearly all of the benches in the entire city are located in this park. Lu Guang would put money on that.

He’d never paid attention before, because it just never occurred to him to sit down all that often when he still felt young and spry, but now that standing for a long time is an impossibility, and it’s become very clear that the city just doesn’t have a lot of places to rest. At least, ones that don’t cost a coffee or a meal to use.

It makes him feel like an old man.

Perhaps a married old man, with Xiaoshi reading a paper next to him like they’d woken up to a 1980s sunrise, and Lu Guang hadn’t managed to notice. It was Xiaoshi’s idea to come out here. Something about wanting to see the flowers before they wilted in the Autumn.

But he doesn’t seem to be looking at the flowers at all, so Lu Guang isn’t actually sure what his deal is.

And unfortunately, he isn’t going to find out, at least not now. He doesn’t want to question this, because for better or worse, this is the first time in a while that Xiaoshi has genuinely asked him to do something. Even something as inane as sitting next to flowers on a Thursday.

He’s trying to encourage this. Xiaoshi is surprisingly good at acting cheerful when he isn’t, and it’s difficult to try to force through. Lu Guang has already figured out that he’s awful at communicating, so that extra barrier certainly isn’t helping. Hopefully, this is helping to remove that barrier, which makes it a very good use of their time.

That doesn’t change the fact that Lu Guang is bored out of his mind.

He leans over to smell a flower. Galsang, his mind provides, sagely. These flowers surround them today, more than any others. He’d heard from somewhere that they’re supposed to be flowers of happiness. Then again, he’d also heard that about most other flowers, so it could be completely wrong.

He could always look it up, but Xiaoshi’s newspaper and the hum of distant commuters create an environment where Lu Guang feels phones ought not be allowed.

Like a painting.

A painting where Xiaoshi sits in the center, the only sign of grim in a field of petals and joy. The more he looks, the more he sees how starkly Xiaoshi actually stands out in their little peinture.

No, he traces his eyes over his companion intently. Xiaoshi certainly appears more bleak than the violet and white blossoms at first viewing, but at a less physical level he doesn’t differ much at all. They, he and the galsang, are both delicate and charming. No particular effort comes from either to be beautiful, for their virtues are in their hearts.

Lu Guang slouches on his spread knees, hands locked between them. He wouldn’t be having poetic thoughts like these if he wasn’t bored.

Of the two of them, Xiaoshi is inarguably the better commercial photographer. He can capture the beauty that onlookers tend to seek, smaller moments, the notable events, the butterflies sitting on leaves. He has an eye for artful pieces with complex imagery and composition. Pictures that make the world seem ‘lively.’ Pictures that magazine editors and collectors adore.

More often than not, when a photo sells from their shop, Xiaoshi is the one who took it.

Lu Guang’s photos, when he takes them, don’t have that artful touch that people describe with French. Qiao Ling calls them boring. Xiaoshi doesn’t, but he doesn’t really get it either. It’s reasonable. Lu Guang isn’t sure he’s ever explained it well. He isn’t sure he’d know how to, without sounding like a prick.

And he doesn’t want to come across that way, believe it or not. He isn’t trying to detract from regular photography. It can capture the beautiful, the magical, and the grim beyond grim. The top dollar actors on billboards and the painful reality of poverty in taboo galleries have their value, and Lu Guang isn’t going to deny them that.

But there’s an aspect to it all that most people don’t seem to grasp. No matter how insightful the subject may be, the average person only sees the surface – if you could even call it that. They see a product specifically designed to get its point across.

It isn’t their fault. The end product can’t express the time it took to create, organize, or edit.

Nor the temporary nature of their subjects. The golden hour will last all of ten minutes, the flower will wilt, the models will go home, the photo could be taken completely out of context, and it won’t matter, at least to the viewer. The photo is permanent, and the photo has a meaning.

It takes away their magic to think otherwise. This is a part of reality, captured in a frame, but it isn’t. It’s one tiny moment amplified for consumption, and that makes them seem almost plastic, to Lu Guang.

So when he takes photos, it isn’t of foliage or aesthetic. His subjects are people in their ordinary, unique, utterly and ironically unremarkable lives. A couple on a date long after their honeymoon phase, hardly even romantic anymore, but still happy. A dog yanking too hard on the leash, causing its owner to nearly drop her keys. Teenagers sitting outside, passing around their phones; one is trying not to laugh, another seems confused, squinting. They might need glasses. They might just be stupid.

An old man wearing a skirt in the grocery store, heaving a large bag of rice onto a cart. Shanshan making an off-putting face at her homework, with a ponytail half undone. A young father with a carrying sling, one arm wrapped protectively around it while the other struggles to put change into a vending machine. A little girl trying to reach the opening of a trashcan.

A dark, sturdy woman, likely from a traditional part of the country, helping a boy already taller and paler than her with his homework, through a window three floors above the streetline. Not high up, but in a very well-to-do establishment. Many would shamelessly say that the woman sullies her environment merely by touching it, yet she holds a gold lined pen and her hair is pinned tight. The boy wears the uniform from a private institute, practically emanating the air of the upper class, yet he leans into her side as she explains something from a thick book.

They would never see themselves in magazines.

These glimpses, genuine moments in time, are far more lively to Lu Guang. Mundane existence. The perfectly edited, candid shots, to him, could never compare. They don’t sell well, so he hardly ever prints them.

Xiaoshi flips a page in the newspaper, dragging his attention back to the moment. Given that they aren’t actually old men, reading the paper isn’t something they’re practiced in. The bottom of the recycled sheet rips, and he has to lift it far above his knees to turn it over. He doesn’t know how to fold it properly. His hair is undone, falling into his face, he isn’t fixing it.

Bruising eyes, a dark sweater, clammy hands. A strong breeze passes through, and a few leaves fall into the canal he’s created with the paper. When it slows to a gentle current, he brushes them off, but they cling to his knee. He doesn’t seem to notice. And still the galsang glistens with the soon-to-be-evaporated dew left by a morning fog.

It grabs something in his heart. He’s felt it before, and he’s ignored it.

It occurs to Lu Guang that he hasn’t taken any photos in a while.

So with an ache in his gut, he stands up and walks a few steps away. Xiaoshi notices, lowering his paper and leaning forward as if to stand as well. Lu Guang shakes his head, and holds up his hand, hoping it gets the message across.

Xiaoshi blinks, but presses back against the bench, slowly returning to his article. His bangs fall back over his face, casting a shadow that accentuates the exhaustive bruises.

Lu Guang snaps a photo.

His senses woke in turns.

In his lungs, his breath felt artificially fresh.

In his nose, a sharpness similar to cleansing alcohol.

In his back, a vague throbbing. Then in his front.

On his feet, room temperature air under a thin sheet.

In his mouth, an acrid contrast to the rest of the environment. He had finally realized that he’d woken up, but he wasn’t quite sure when he had fallen asleep. Or for that matter, where he had woken up.

Then, in his memory, a flash of red eyes, a scream that might have been his, and the ghost of unbelievable pain gave him all the context he needed to figure out where he was, and what he was doing there.

Lu Guang tried to open his eyes, but the lights were bright, and it was taking him longer than it normally would to adjust to it. Squinting, he caught tubes going into his arm, and a mass of color nearby his head. The rest of the room was too homogeneously white to make out much else.

Greasy hair, greasy face, chapped lips, dry hands. A body that was in desperate need of a solid shower. A dress that felt like paper. Crusty eyelids.

For all the good this room had probably done, it certainly left him feeling like a half-cleaned plate.

His eyes adjusted.

The room was minimalist, but not barren. Flowers and gifts covered the metal shelf beside him, IVs, monitors, and a large beeping machine with a wire connected to his wrist surrounded him. Xiaoshi’s jacket was resting on one of the bed posts. A digital clock high above the door, reading three seventeen. A window to the night sky.

Lu Guang considered what the jacket must mean, and came to the conclusion that his friend had left it there while visiting, and most likely was not in the building at that moment.

He wondered how long it had been there.

He wondered how long he had been there.

Lu Guang tries to prepare a dinner for them, but burns the rice.

And the pork.

And the more he looks at the cabbage, the more he realizes he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do with it.

He puts the remains into a trash bag and walks three blocks away to throw it away, so no one else has to find out.

The door cat chimes.

Lu Guang looks up from a seat to see Xiaoshi standing in the entrance, still. He looks around jerkily, as though panicked by– “Lu Guang?”

“Over here," he waves. Xiaoshi visibly exhales. “Don’t forget to take your shoes off.”

“I can’t believe you still use this piece of junk.”

“It’s not junk,” Lu Guang replies, staring boredly at the water purifier, “It works fine.”

“It’s vintage," his mother bemoans, “I recognize that model from my childhood.”

“It’s not even close to vintage.”

“You need a new one, you’ll both get poisoning from the water.”

“We drink from the tap often enough anyway, I don’t think the filter is going to hurt us," she looks appalled, “I’m not spending money on a new one.”

“But you should!”

“I should not.”

“You,” Xiaoshi walks in from the bedroom, “You!” She points.

Xiaoshi stops. “Me?" He asks, gesturing to himself.

“You! Don’t you think you need a new water filter?”

He faces the offending object. “We usually just drink from the sink.”

His mother turns back to Lu Guang, accusingly. “You’ve done this to him. A fine boy and this is what you’ve done.”

Lu Guang shrugs.

“You need to consider your future when choosing who to be with, you know. You will not live healthily with a man like this, Cheng Xiaoshi.”

“...Okay?”

“It’s been nice having you over, mom.”

“Of course, ma’am. It’ll be done by next Tuesday.”

Ching!

“Thank you! Oh I can’t wait, my hubby will be so excited, should I just give you my home number, or–”

“You can come in any time. No need to worry,” Xiaoshi smiles pleasantly.

The old woman gives one last, resounding, “Thank you,” and makes her way out of the shop. Lu Guang doesn’t understand what her performance was for. With the commotion she caused, one might reasonably assume her order contained something sentimental. A wedding day, grandchildren, her own children, perhaps a cherished family pet.

A roll of film with a hundred and ninety-two photos of trains.

Not just one train, not even all different trains. A camera roll with nearly two hundred photos of a moderate collection of trains, seemingly taken every single time that the client’s husband both had this camera and happened to see one. Afterwards, he would put down the camera, rewind the film, and continue on with his day.

Some are taken within the same day as others, most are several weeks or months apart. The most recent one is from four months ago, the oldest is from early 2002.

Xiaoshi leans over his shoulder, hands stretching the pockets of his jacket. “What a nice auntie, huh?”

“Mm.”

“Came all the way out here for this. Very romantic.” He smiles cattily. Lu Guang ignores him.

He extends the roll of film out, holding it like a spectacle. “It seems excessive.”

Xiaoshi huffs. “Yeah, a bit.” He slinks back to his full height and tilts his head to the side in a smooth motion. It accentuates his collarbone, poking through his shirt with a concerningly hollow pit. “If they had to come all the way out here to get it developed, they might’ve been better off just getting a modern camera.”

Lu Guang grunts in agreement. “Think we should lock the doors?” He asks, bringing his hand back.

“Nah,” Xiaoshi reclines against the wall, “You never know if someone else will come in with an order like that. Film isn’t that popular anymore, can’t turn anyone away.”

Before taking the job with Xiaoshi, Lu Guang honestly didn’t think anyone used film at all. Most don’t. Their day-job clients are mostly made up of the elderly, hipsters, and inheritors hoping to uncover their parents' memories before they’re lost to time.

Xiaoshi specializes in the last one.

“You’ll have to do most of this one, the oldest on here is from nearly twenty years ago,” Lu Guang informs, running his thumb along the canister. Xiaoshi nods.

He laughs breathily. “Two hundred sounds like a lot when you don’t have that perspective, but it’s really not, huh? This guy must be terrible at keeping up habits.” He shakes his head, still smiling, “It’s crazy. Hope you don’t mind that I undercharged her a bit, I just felt bad since she came so far.”

“It’s your shop.”

“Mm,” Xiaoshi glances at a box of documents usually hidden from customer view. “Technically Qiao Ling’s. Technically her dad’s.” His brow furrows. “Maybe she actually does have the paper for it. I don’t know the law around it well enough.”

Lu Guang delicately places the canister onto a dark room counter. “Someday it’ll be yours.”

“Yeah, I guess. Not anytime soon though,” Xiaoshi clicks his tongue. “Still got, uh, fifteen years left? Something like that. Unless one of us randomly wins the lottery.”

With time value and interest it would be more, but the circumstance and personal connection muddle the normal rules. Lu Guang offered to handle the finances at one point, but Qiao Ling rejected.

“Don’t get me wrong, I like you well enough. But this is a family thing, not just financing a mortgage or something.” Qiao Ling had explained, “Dad didn’t want anyone to lose the building, and he doesn’t want to throw Cheng Xiaoshi under the bus for it, but prices aren’t getting any lower. There’s a lot of legal jargon, and it was just a complicated situation to begin with, I guess. We’re trying not to put too many extra pieces into it. Just worry about running the shop itself and don’t get too caught up in it. We’ve got it handled.”

“Long time to wait.” Lu Guang says.

Xiaoshi smiles wryly. “I’m good at that. But, clients tend not to be, so I should get started on that, I think,” he pushes himself into the dark room, sliding the door almost shut. “Watch the front?”

“Sure.”

Check your front door, is a bit of a surprising message to receive from an unknown number at nine o’clock at night, but upon seeing the manilla envelope and sender, Lu Guang’s confusion dissipates.

Though Xiaoshi is still in the dark room, Lu Guang takes the precautionary step to open it on the staircase, out of sight.

Lu Guang skims the note first, this time. It’s written in a rushed, yet precise way. A hand practiced in quick professionalism, he reasons.

A suspect of organized crime was arrested yesterday evening, in his apartment. He was indicted for possession of illegal substances and assault, but they have reason to believe he’s hiding more than that. Most pressingly, they believe he’s a well-informed name in a notable crime syndicate. The issue is that he’s a sturdy man, and doesn’t talk easily. The police have dealt with their type before, and know better than anyone how tight-lipped they can be.

So, the chief moved to investigate the photo gallery of their detainee, and though there was nothing worth investigating for the police, there was a goldmine for the duo.

Summum citare: “By no means do I expect you to investigate years of footage, but I have provided photos taken within forty-eight hours of the arrest, and I hope this will allow us to identify new points of interest to continue separately.”

Quite frankly, Lu Guang doesn’t like the sound of that, and doesn’t want to be involved.

But, he thinks grimly, the idea does leave him curious. He reaches for the photographs, all fairly innocuous. He supposes that makes sense, with the precautions they’d have to take.

One was taken twenty-eight hours ago, of a short list of addresses that don’t hold a lot of meaning to Lu Guang. If the police can’t garner anything from them, they probably don’t mean much to them, either. Still, Lu Guang focuses on it.

The suspect went to meet up with a group of other men in a high-end restaurant to celebrate one of their buddies getting engaged. The party was set to last well into the night, with a wide variety of entertainment. There are a few women there, dressed lewdly, intoxicated, but it’s mostly men.

He can’t get a good look at any of them, but they’re a mixed crowd. Most, he thinks, wouldn’t look out of place in a regular office job.

After a few hours there, the suspect gets an alert that takes him back to his apartment, where the police force is searching for – and finding – a large collection of drugs, and the ingredients needed to make some of them. No infrastructure for the actual creation, though. Most likely resourcing from someone else.

The rest of the time is just the arrest and interrogation of the suspect, who’s refusing to let anything through the cracks.

Lu Guang sets down the photo. Like last time, it seems pretty open and shut, they’d just need to go in, head to the restaurant, and get a list of names for the chief. Three hours max. Almost no risk at all.

He wasn’t quite sure what he expected, given the circumstances, but that about makes sense.

The rest of the photos all seem to be within the same timeframe, which, again, he should have expected. He sets them aside, and re-examines the envelope to see if he missed something. He did.

Two extra slips of paper. One, with code messages to minimize suspicion if someone happens to read over the chief’s shoulder. “Can I speak with you,” for yes, and, “I’ve been overbooked,” for no.

The second is a prewritten, unsigned check. For about half of their monthly expenses. Lu Guang considers this.

He considers it for a bit longer. Long enough. “Cheng Xiaoshi!”

After a beat, the nearest door to the dark room opens to reveal the concerned face of his tall partner.

Lu Guang presents the envelope and its contents with a smooth flick of the wrist. Xiaoshi slips the knot of one of his gloves loose, as though in a silent question. Lu Guang shakes his head. “Unless you’d like to take a look at them, but they’re not all that informative. They’re from the chief.”

Xiaoshi pulls off the left glove anyway, tossing it onto a countertop. “Is it tax deductible?”

Lu Guang lags. When his brain manages to reboot, he says, “No, but it," he furrows his brow, “I don’t think it’s taxed either? You speak nonsense.”

“I should get hazard pay,” Xiaoshi snaps off his other glove and presses his nose into the photo. “What are these?”

“Meaningless to me,” Lu Guang admits, “Some gangster was arrested yesterday, but they can’t get him to talk. Want us to go in and find information on foot.”

Xiaoshi sideyes him. “You want me to interview a gangster?”

“No,” Lu Guang chides, “That photo was taken by the arrested man.”

Xiaoshi stills, maintaining eye contact. “You want me to be a gangster?”

“For around three hours,” Lu Guang agrees. “Taken on the way to a restaurant, where a number of others, some who have been arrested, most who haven’t, will be waiting. They’re celebrating an engagement.”

“You want me to sit in a restaurant full of gangsters?”

“For three hours,” Lu Guang agrees. “To see if anything incriminating slips, so the police can issue more arrests or investigate further. It seems like a pretty private establishment, so they’ll probably be more loose with their words.”

“You want me to sit in a secluded restaurant full of gangsters?”

“For three hours,” Lu Guang agrees. Xiaoshi hasn’t blinked in a full minute. Lu Guang curls his hand to his lap, so Xiaoshi can’t breathe onto the photo anymore. Not that he’s been doing that, either. “They’re almost certain it’s a crime syndicate with connections to the nearby drug cartels and trafficking rings–” Xiaoshi jolts, “–so they want us to get ‘new points of interest,’” Lu Guang finger quotes.

Xiaoshi straightens his back, expression suddenly grim.

Lu Guang feels a buzz in his pantspocket, which he assumes to be the chief. Or Qiao Ling. Or his mother. Could be an email, as well. He doesn’t assume it to be anyone, actually. “It’s up to you.”

Xiaoshi thins his lips. “You don’t care?”

Given that the most dangerous aspect is Xiaoshi’s own acting ability, “Not especially.”

Xiaoshi seems cast deep in thought. Lu Guang takes the time to pack the photos and notes back into the envelope, but Xiaoshi manages to catch the unsigned check. His eyes take a depressed shape. “I guess that’s our option then?”

That’s not a question Lu Guang wants to answer. Medical papers online have told him that victims of trauma should be eased into making their own choices, to teach themselves to trust their reasoning. “I won’t make the decision for you.”

But when Xiaoshi gives him that painfully distressed look, he can’t help but wonder if the papers had gotten it wrong. He sighs.

“It would be good for our finances. Wouldn’t take long at all, I’ll be there the whole time,” Xiaoshi doesn’t relax, but the terseness of his shoulders seems to ease, “In and out.”

Xiaoshi nods jerkily. “I really should get hazard pay," he mumbles.

Lu Guang mirrors. “I’ll message the chief then. It was taken around five o’clock yesterday, so we’ll close up early and do it tomorrow.” Xiaoshi jerks his head again. Lu Guang notices that his eyes still seem distant. He snaps his fingers, drawing his companions attention, but the gaze remains the same. “You want to head to bed?”

After a short pause, Xiaoshi shakes his head. “I still need to finish up the photos.”

“They can wait until tomorrow,” Xiaoshi glares, “Cheng Xiaoshi.”

“I need to finish them," he says, definitively. “I’ll go to bed once I do.”

Lu Guang doesn’t believe him, but isn’t sure he can win this argument. “Alright," he replies, opening his phone – it was an email from a subscription – and typing a message to the chief.

“You’ve got this, it’s fine,” Xiaoshi mutters, staring at his own tired eyes in the mirror, “Just in and out. In and out.”

Lu Guang would be lying if he said he didn’t think Xiaoshi looked ridiculous. He knocks on the open door.

Xiaoshi’s face turns a nice shade of pink. “Qiao Ling said it’s good for boosting confidence.”

“I’m not questioning it.” That does sound like something Qiao Ling would say.

Two minutes.

“You ready?” Lu Guang eyes the ticking clock. Xiaoshi is breathing over his shoulder, doing the same. It’s hard to tell if he’s pale from nerves or just…

Everything else he’s been doing to himself, Lu Guang supposes. “Yeah, sure.”

The minutes pass quickly. Lu Guang opens his palm.

“I’ll direct you to the restaurant,” Xiaoshi claps, and disappears. Lu Guang closes his eyes.

Xiaoshi follows along well and quietly, one of his newer virtues. He’s lucky that their criminal is so stoic, otherwise his lack of expression might tip someone off, but Lu Guang doesn’t comment.

Upon arrival, Lu Guang tells him to order a bourbon. It’s a bit lighter than what their man would normally order, but not by a large amount. Xiaoshi does so, but says it might be better to get a beer, because those are easier to nurse over long periods of time. That may be true, but Lu Guang isn’t trying to stand out tonight.

To his unending annoyance, most of them use nicknames, and there really isn’t a good way to bring that up without getting them caught. The only names he manages to catch are the soon-to-be-married couple, one of the odd men when another cracks a joke, and one of the prostitutes, who Lu Guang didn’t really care to look into anyway.

One of the men nudges Xiaoshi, joking about the ‘snow’ they brought.

Which makes Lu Guang want to bash his head into the wall, because he didn’t catch that, somehow. And he’d been wondering why he couldn’t get any faces made out on his own.

Lu Guang? They’re lining it up on the table, their criminal is a recreational user, and Xiaoshi is absolutely not.

Lu Guang feels like an idiot. I– He breathes, we can back out.

Xiaoshi flinches.

It’s not like we can change the past, Xiaoshi. Lu Guang isn’t sure how he’s going to make up for this one. You’ve only got two hours left.

And that’s that, apparently. Xiaoshi tries to act enthusiastic, though his hands shake with what have to be nerves now. You’ll put me in rehab for this, right?

Don’t be ridiculous, you’re not going to get addicted. Lu Guang reexamines the photo to see if he missed anything else. They don’t do anything harder than this.

Lu Guang genuinely has no idea what the effects of cocaine are, let alone how they mix with alcohol, let alone anything else, but he doesn’t want his concerns to get through the connection.

Right. That’s good.

Yeah, he drops it back onto the table. Sorry about this.

It’s alright, Xiaoshi replies, mutedly.

He tries not to feel guilty about how much better he feels about Xiaoshi not looking like himself while this happens. Xiaoshi probably feels the same, especially since it’ll wear off when he gets back.

Or at least he’s pretty sure it will. On further reflection, he has no idea.

Lu Guang decides it’s better not to think about it for now, and instead focus on the more immediate issues. The drug hits almost immediately, and though Xiaoshi doesn’t say it, Lu Guang can tell he isn’t reacting well.

The two of them didn’t drink much in college, but Lu Guang does remember the one time they definitely did, because Xiaoshi nearly keeled over from alcohol poisoning. Lu Guang had been with him, watching his face contort from regular tipsiness to nausea and panic.

It hadn’t been a fun night, and Shanshan made it a point to never invite them out for drinks again. She’d felt guilty for days. They’d later discovered that it was a light alcohol intolerance, and the sheer amount of that night was what had done it, so they hadn’t stopped entirely. Still, Lu Guang could never forget the look on Xiaoshi’s face when he stopped breathing correctly.

He’d recognize it anywhere. Drink the warm water, ask for cold when the waiter comes around.

Xiaoshi does, trying not to look overly stressed. Won’t it look weird?

Yeah, fuck. Ask for a lemonade, say it’s for the last days of Summer or something if they ask.

He nods jerkily. Lu Guang tries to refocus on the conversation, hoping no one turns their attention back to them.

He really isn’t sure what the chief expected, but they don’t actually get that much. Most of the discussion is either incomprehensible or vulgar, and it doesn’t seem like it’ll be turning to informative any time soon.

He’s tempted to cut them out, but Xiaoshi refuses.

They might still say something, we don’t know. We can’t leave too early.

Lu Guang is going to bash his head into the wall, actually.

He makes himself a lemonade, hoping it’ll ease the headache he’s gaining from having to listen to the buffoons around the table. At the very least, they’ll have some ‘witness’ testimony about more assault cases than Lu Guang wants to count, but he isn’t sure how much good that’ll do them. Maybe descriptors alone will be enough.

The lemonade did not help.

Two hours in, Lu Guang is about ready to fling himself off of the nearest bridge. The ‘conversation’ he’s been hearing has been equivable to a fever dream, and he worries his headache will progress into a full migraine before the night is out.

“’s not that bad,” Xiaoshi murmurs, unconvincingly. He’s on his third lemonade, and the only reason he hasn’t had any cocaine in an hour is because his peers are too drunk to notice when he doesn’t take it. There could still be something.

Lu Guang has his doubts, but pushes them aside to massage his skull.

“Shipments are coming in Saturday, right?” Lu Guang freezes.

“Yeah, same, uh, same place as," one of the men waves his hand in lieu of elaboration.

Xiaoshi.

Yeah?

Don’t say a word, but listen in. Xiaoshi perks up.

“Same boat too?”

“Eh, no, actually," a burly man with cauliflower ears mumbles. He squeezes his eyes shut. “It’ll be… I don’t remember the dock. Green one, I’ve got the number written down somewhere, I think.”

“Good way to celebrate gopher’s big day, yeah?” One of the other men chuckles. “Almost as good as the babes here.”

One of them giggles, barely aware of the situation.

“Wouldn’t be so sure, you never know.”

“Ah, found it.”

Get a look at that, Xiaoshi. Xiaoshi leans clumsily around the table, getting just enough view for Lu Guang to write it down. Now get out, we’re leaving, that’s plenty.

Right, right, Xiaoshi says, not clapping.

Lu Guang grits his teeth. Cheng Xiaoshi.

Eh?

Clap. And Xiaoshi does.

He stumbles over the sofa, trying to reach back to stabilize, and ultimately falling. He has that look on his face still, nearly green. Lu Guang puts a careful hand to his forehead, ignoring the flinch from contact.

Cold. Lu Guang isn’t sure what that means.

Xiaoshi shudders. “Lu Guang," he presses his fist to his mouth, eyes suddenly alert.

Shit, Lu Guang grabs the glass still partly full of lemonade, dumps it, and presses it to Xiaoshi’s lips as he starts to convulse. One of Xiaoshi’s hands comes up to grip his shirt, another to the wrist by the cup, tight enough that his knuckles turn white.

With his free hand, Lu Guang messages the chief to inform of the success. He snaps a quick photo of the notepad he’d been using, sends it, and tosses the phone behind him to focus on Xiaoshi, who has miraculously managed to avoid breaking his wrist.

He’s stopping heaving, and is instinctively curling forward, stopping when he hits Lu Guang’s arm. Not entirely sure what to do, Lu Guang pulls Xiaoshi into his chest. He puts the glass back onto the table.

“You had alcohol too, do you still feel that?”

Xiaoshi shakes his head. “Don’t feel any of it. Just sick.”

That’s a relief then. Lu Guang runs his fingers through the black hair, ignoring the cold sweat that coats every strand. He takes a glance at the cup, recognizing that, were they to need it again, the size wouldn’t suffice. “Xiaoshi," he starts, softly, “Can you walk?”

Xiaoshi shivers, which really isn’t an answer.

“Okay,” Lu Guang maneuvers his arms under Xiaoshi’s, and pulls him up slowly. Xiaoshi seems out of it enough not to fight against him, which Lu Guang is choosing to be grateful for.

He eyes the stairs with disdain. It’s not an easy job to get them to the bathroom, and he’s definitely got more stubbed toes than he normally would, but they do make it in one piece.

Xiaoshi doesn’t go to the basin, just folding against Lu Guang when he sits back down.

“Are you sure it’s just sickness?” Xiaoshi nods, “Nothing carried over that we need to go to the hospital for?”

“Just," he hiccups, “Just sick. Sorry.”

“My fault,” Lu Guang says. He supposes it’s lucky that Xiaoshi hasn’t eaten properly for weeks. He presses against the wall, trying to convince himself that it’s comfortable enough to sleep. His anti-blanket shivers again.

Lu Guang holds him protectively, as if that would help, somehow.

“Just try to sleep, okay?”

“Okay.”

By some miracle, all Xiaoshi has to deal with in the morning is a headache.

And all Lu Guang has to deal with is the lemonade he poured onto their floor, and a glass that he would prefer to just throw away.

Lu Guang’s parents asked them to come over for dinner.

Xiaoshi is wearing a button-up and semi-casual slacks. It isn’t particularly fancy, but compared to what he normally wears, it’s pretty formal. Lu Guang asks him why he’s bothering, since he’s been to Lu Guang’s place plenty already, and he doesn’t have a real answer.

Flushed, he says, “I just think I’m supposed to.”

Whatever that means.

Lu Guang clicks off the light as he heads out, wearing a perfectly normal outfit that consists of no slacks. He catches only the last flash of Xiaoshi’s expression as it turns to alarm.

Lu Guang pauses, holding the door open. The cat alarm chimes behind them. “Xiaoshi?” His friend shakily lifts a hand to his mouth. Lu Guang nudges them back inside, and closes the door, lights back on. “What’s the matter?”

Xiaoshi seems stuck, staring out the front window.

Lu Guang checks the time. He might have to text his parents, but they’ll probably still be fine. “You have to talk to me, Xiaoshi.”

He sways a bit, eyes still wide. Lu Guang puts a hand on his shoulder. “I never visited.”

Lu Guang squints. “What do you mean by that?”

“When you were,” Xiaoshi’s other hand raises as well, “I never visited them. I didn’t see them even once.”

He sways against Lu Guang’s grip. “I don’t think they hold it against you," he says.

Xiaoshi shakes his head.

“Honestly Xiaoshi, I think my mom li–”

“What if we never saw you again?” Lu Guang freezes. “And I never went to visit? What would they think then?” His shoulders hunch, leaning to touch the window with his forehead. “Would they think I’m a coward?”

His mother came to visit a few times before Lu Guang was released from the hospital. The first time, she saw Xiaoshi’s jacket on the bed, and she nearly started crying.

“They wouldn’t think that. You didn’t upset them.”

“I was so worried, I thought he might’ve," his mother had choked, trying to cover it with a smile. “We hadn’t been able to talk at all. Ah, don’t look at me, I’m getting all emotional over here.”

“Xiaoshi,” Lu Guang leans beside him, speaking firmly, “They aren’t mad at you. They don't think that. They want us to come over now, and they want you to feel at home there.”

Cheng Xiaoshi presses his eyes closed, breathing deeply.

“But I can tell them that we can’t come," he continues, softer. “If you need me to.”

Xiaoshi deflates. “No, I want to," he says. “Just," he takes a deeper, shakier breath, and stands up straight. Jerkily, he lowers his hands to his pockets. Lu Guang releases his shoulder.

With a final exhale, he opens his eyes and smiles. Lu Guang almost jumps with how easily it comes to him, and how natural it looks. There’s only one thing off.

Xiaoshi gives a little bounce on his heels. “Well, we should head off then," he says with a grin.

“Ah, wait,” Lu Guang pops off the doorframe to jog upstairs. He hears a “Huh?” from behind. He turns around the counter with purpose, ignoring the footsteps following behind until he opens the freezer to grab a few ice cubes. “I actually don’t know if this will help," he starts.

Xiaoshi reaches the kitchen opening, visibly confused. Lu Guang gestures for him to walk closer, and he obliges.

“Your eyes are red," he explains, pressing a bit of ice to the underside of Xiaoshi’s eye. Xiaoshi just stares at him, stunned. He chooses to ignore it, and puts one on the other side as well.

Lu Guang continues holding them there, unsure if he should be keeping eye contact or not. In his uncertainty, he does. Xiaoshi’s eyes remain wide, though some of the redness does seem to be fading. When it gets to a satisfying enough point, Lu Guang removes the cubes and tosses them into the sink, pulling up his sleeve a bit to wipe the water from his face.

Xiaoshi’s gaze softens.

“We should head out then,” Lu Guang says, ignoring the situation so that he won’t cry again.

Xiaoshi chuckles. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Xiaoshi is plenty charismatic with Lu Guang’s parents, full of an energy Lu Guang wouldn’t have believed based on their way out. He’s tuned most of it out, because unlike his mother and Xiaoshi, Lu Guang couldn’t give less of a shit about romcoms.

He can’t bring himself to look away though. Xiaoshi is around twenty-five centimeters taller than she is, practically towering over her.

His father seems inclined towards quietude as well. He always has been, letting his mother do all the talking. Lu Guang assumes that’s where he got it from.

Xiaoshi takes another spring roll from the center plate. “Are these homemade?”

“They are! How do you like them?”

“They’re delicious, thank you,” Lu Guang’s mother turns to him.

“My Guang didn’t get his cooking from me, unfortunately,” Lu Guang glares, pretending that didn’t genuinely bother him, “Do you cook at all, Xiaoshi?”

The door is locked when Lu Guang returns from depositing the check.

He squints. He’s reasonably sure that they don’t close the shop on Mondays. Slowly, he puts the key into the rusty knob, and enters.

“Xiaoshi?” He calls.

Silence.

Alarmingly, this starts to worry him. He knows that it shouldn’t, he’s not Xiaoshi’s minder, and Xiaoshi is an adult who’s lived alone before, but it does.

Honestly he isn’t sure what he’s worried about. It’s not like someone would have attacked and locked the door as they left. Xiaoshi is definitely still alive, still as healthy as he was that morning – which, albeit, is a decreasing standard – and it’s not like he has to let Lu Guang know when he leaves the shop. He’s just out somewhere.

And it’s concerning.

Maybe he isn’t as recovered as he thought he was.

The door alarm chimes as Xiaoshi enters behind him.

“Um.” Lu Guang steps out of the entryway. Xiaoshi snorts. “How was the bank?”

Lu Guang elects to pretend that nothing happened.

At the crack of eleven o’clock, Qiao Ling slams her way into the building.

“Listen up, comrades!” Xiaoshi jerks his head into the sofa’s arm, “I’ve got a mission for you today, for the betterment of the collective wallet!”

It’s really incredible how chefs can make recipes look so simple – “Well come out with it, landlady!” – and yet Lu Guang can fail so miserably at them. Maybe he should hire a personal sous chef.

“A beautiful young lady has come to visit me with dreams of love, comrade.”

The more he thinks about it, the better the idea sounds, actually. How much could they possibly cost? “And she’s so desperate she paid you for it?”

“Us, Cheng Xiaoshi. Paid us,” Lu Guang searches it up, “To get her set up with a dreamy young gentleman she mistakenly rejected.”

It’s above his budget, but not by as much as he’d thought. He presses a hand to his chin, thoughtfully. “We can’t change the past, Qiao Ling," they have Lu Guang’s attention again. He never thought he’d hear such words from Xiaoshi. “How would we set her up?”

He turns to their manager, who’s looking at them with some disdain. “How stupid do you think I am? We’re barely going to change anything, it’s from last night.”

Lu Guang blinks slowly. “That’s still the past, last I checked.”

Qiao Ling rolls her eyes. “He asked her out last night with a date already in mind, and she said she wasn’t sure. You can check, if you don’t believe me," she holds out the photo leisurely, “But she just wants to adjust her answer. It’s so recently it shouldn’t change much, hm?”

Lu Guang scans the photo. Somehow, she’s right, it wouldn’t change the future in a meaningful way. That doesn’t mean he thinks it’s a good idea, but he has been wanting to take a case that isn’t from the chief of police, so it’s more tempting than it normally would be. Xiaoshi gives him a questioning look.

He sighs, “Why doesn’t she just text back now?”

“Have you lost it?” Qiao Ling whacks his shoulder, “Could there be a more embarrassing thing for a girl? It’s either this or nothing.”

Lu Guang can think of many things that could be more embarrassing for a girl, actually. Xiaoshi makes a small sound to get his attention. Xiaoshi glances at Qiao Ling. Lu Guang considers this, and raises his eyebrows. Xiaoshi makes a disgusted face, emphasizing his eyebags. Lu Guang gestures to their fridge. Xiaoshi considers this for a while, and groans.

He turns up to Qiao Ling.

“Sure, why not.”

Lu Guang is distinctly unimpressed.

So much work for this?

Don’t be rude, Xiaoshi huffs, sipping at his cocktail. People can like who they like. Just because someone like you–

Or you.

Or, he hesitates, yeah, or me, doesn’t see the appeal, doesn’t mean it isn’t there.

This specimen, Ho Jian, who their client paid premium to date, is an average looking fellow with a drawling voice. Right now, he’s in a heated argument about the ethics of divorce, and the position of a woman in marriage. His voice never rises, but his words are harsh, and his views are traditional.

It definitely isn’t there.

Well, whatever then.

“So, Fenshi,” Xiaoshi turns to their client’s friend, a young woman with heavy makeup. From her odd lack of expression, Lu Guang assumes she’s already gotten several rounds of botox. “You hear about what Xenxu has gotten herself into?”

Nope, Lu Guang answers preemptively.

“No, tell me about it,” Xiaoshi puts down his glass.

Put your hand over that glass. Xiaoshi does so. Good habit to keep up.

I have doubts anyone would try to kidnap me, Lu Guang.

You never know.

“She’s found herself a cheater, isn’t that funny?” The friend snickers, “But she’ll settle still, you know.”

Who’s Xenxu?

One of your classmates from secondary school. This is a part of the popular group, she fell out a few years ago but they keep in touch with her.

Xiaoshi fidgets with his napkin, “Why’s that?”

“Why’s that? Because she has no choice, you know? Getting too old for her," she takes a sip, “And she doesn’t want to be a leftover. Just the worst fate for a woman.”

“R-right, of course.”

“Which is why," Ho Jian leans over Xiaoshi, “It’s important to dedicate yourself to one person. He doesn’t realize that he’ll be in just as sorry a position as her in a few years, he doesn’t have the money to keep up that sort of habit.”

The friend giggles, “You’d know all about that, huh? Because you have so much going for you.”

He rolls his eyes.

I can’t explain how uncomfortable this is, Xiaoshi turns away from Fenshi’s friends, running his thumb across the glass. I wonder how often they all get together.

I would have already left by this point.

“I’ll be dedicating myself absolutely to my woman, no doubt,” Ho Jian informs, sounding obnoxiously wise, “Through any troubles, absolute devotion.”

Something about the way he said that makes Xiaoshi glance over.

“Don’t you think so, Fenshi?”

Xiaoshi bites his tongue. At Ho Jian’s raised eyebrow, he nods.

“Well, her boyfriend doesn’t seem to think so," the friend suddenly eyes one of the waitresses, smile turning to a sneer, “At least he makes enough to keep her out of here. These women though, they’ll be working somewhere like this forever,” Xiaoshi fidgets, “What a dreadful thing.”

She eyes Xiaoshi meaningfully. Lu Guang considers the philosophy of ‘not hitting women’ more than he normally would.

“Right, it’s just terrible for them," he responds, flustered.

“And they don’t even have the looks to get somewhere better," she says, in such a way that it sounds like she isn’t just referring to them.

Ho Jian rests an arm on Xiaoshi’s chair. “Perhaps so. It’s a shame to have a woman working in the first place, in my opinion. How are things with your own man, by the way? You treating him well?”

“As well as he deserves," the friend laughs.

Ho Jian dances his hand across Xiaoshi’s shoulder, coming to rest his knuckles upon the dress. Lu Guang can smell the hormones from where he’s sitting. You’re going to think I’m crazy for this, Xiaoshi says.

Lu Guang raises an eyebrow. Go on.

I’m starting to see the appeal.

You’ve lost it.

Xiaoshi doesn’t respond to that.

As much as Lu Guang enjoys half of his mind being in a restaurant full of gossiping women, he certainly isn’t upset by the night ending. The friends all give each other hugs, with a sweetness that might’ve seemed genuine if he didn’t have to listen to them through the whole night.

Ho Jian whispers into their client's ear, asking her to stay behind for a bit.

So when the others make their way to their transit, Xiaoshi stays put. Ho Jian places a hand on his back, staring into the night. “You know, it’s not too late for you, like they say. I think you’re a very appealing woman.”

Xiaoshi flicks his eyes over. “You think so?”

“It’s my view on it. I wouldn’t lie to you, Fenshi. That, above all else, I can promise you," he says, “Can you say the same about anyone else? That they wouldn’t say one thing and mean another? That they really care about you, and aren’t just trying to gain something from it?”

Xiaoshi stays quiet.

“You know they’ll all leave you at the first concern. You can tell from the way they talk.” Xiaoshi’s lip quivers. “But I won’t. So you have me.”

Lu Guang wrinkles his nose.

“I can provide for a woman like you, with absolute loyalty. You would never need to question it.”

Xiaoshi swallows thickly, “You can’t promise that.”

“But I can," Ho Jian slides his hand to Xiaoshi’s collar, foxily slipping his fingers into the opening of his dress. Xiaoshi shivers. “We would never need to feel lonely again. The pressures you feel can disappear, with me.”

He massages Xiaoshi’s neck.

“We can go out this Saturday, there’s a small place I know. A quiet evening for the two of us to spend time together," he runs his fingers through their clients hair, eyeing them like a predator, “What do you say?”

“I’m not good enough for that, you–you should save it for someone else. Someone better. I–I need to leave–”

Is what she’d originally said. Lu Guang hadn’t caught the true context of it until now.

“Okay," is what Xiaoshi says, with no hesitation. “On Saturday?”

Because suddenly it makes sense to him. It only makes sense that she wouldn’t want to follow up by asking for a date, though he’s fairly sure Ho Jian would accept. She doesn’t want to look desperate. It doesn’t matter that Ho Jian already knows she is.

“I’ll pick you up in the evening,” Ho Jian smiles, removing his hand. It leaves a cold spot on Xiaoshi’s neck that Lu Guang can practically feel, “Dress your best for me, alright?”

“R–right, of course," he stutters, “I will.”

Despite Xiaoshi not actually being the one to get asked out, he looks almost giddy when he returns. Lu Guang, knowing Xiaoshi pretty well at this point, begins to wonder.

“Say,” Xiaoshi tilts his head, “Why did you accept so quickly?”

He seems confused by the question. “Wasn’t I supposed to?”

“Sure, but,” Lu Guang pauses, “You know what I mean.”

Xiaoshi flushes, looking away. “I don’t think I do.”

Lu Guang stares blankly, watching his expression shift from embarrassed to downcast, before Xiaoshi turns around entirely. “You’re not a good liar.”

“That’s rude," he mumbles.

“Where could the appeal have been? We’ve just set up a misogynist with a woman who thinks she has no other prospects.”

“You wouldn’t get it.”

Lu Guang glares, hoping Xiaoshi can tell somehow. “Then I’ll try to understand something else. Do you think she should really get into a relationship with him?” Xiaoshi stills, “He’s clearly taking advantage of her desperation, it would take an idiot not to notice.”

Xiaoshi spins around, dumbfounded.

“How do you think he’s going to treat her, once she commits to seeing him?”

He doesn’t have an answer to that.

“Shouldn’t you just be happy, since you seemed so pleased by it a second ago?”

Lu Guang knows he’s pushing it, but he continues anyway.

“Is it different when it’s y–”

“I don’t know!” Xiaoshi barks, “Maybe it is different when it’s me. Maybe you can only trust it when it hurts, I–” Lu Guang narrows his eyes, knowing from the hesitation that Xiaoshi’s aware that he’s cornered himself.

Lu Guang is also aware that he’s the one doing the cornering. Ordinarily, this is where he’d back off, and he plans to soon, but something tells him that this is important. “Why would you trust something that hurts?”

“You don’t get it, you’d have no way to. It’s not," Xiaoshi grips his jeans, “Let’s just text Qiao Ling. Forget about this.”

“You know it’s bad for her but you’d want it for–”

“Shut up!” He stumbles to his feet, “You don’t get it, just stop it. It doesn’t matter.”

And so he does.

Lu Guang goes to Qiao Ling’s apartment personally, despite Xiaoshi texting. Her hair is secured in a towel when she answers the door.

“They shouldn’t get together," he starts. Qiao Ling quirks an eyebrow, but moves aside for him to enter. “That man is just manipulating her, getting her into a relationship because he knows she’s vulnerable. It won’t help her to go on that date with him.”

Qiao Ling listens and nods, taking a seat by the wall. She gives him a look he hasn’t seen from her before, at least not directed at him. It’s almost pity, but a pity without sympathy. “If that’s so, should I not tell her about the date at all?”

“It would be better off for her,” Lu Guang agrees. It seems obvious to him.

“You think so," it isn’t a question, “And she’ll be better off if she doesn’t know.” Lu Guang nods. “Won’t she just end up completely alone then?”

He blinks. “She still has her friends.”

“And are they good friends?”

“They’re,” objectively not. He grimaces.

Qiao Ling nods again. Lu Guang feels an awful lot like a patient at a shrink. “So she’ll either be lonely or entirely alone.”

“There are other options.”

“Of course there are. Will she take them?”

Lu Guang doesn’t have an answer to that. Rather, he knows that answer, and he isn’t willing to accept it.

“So will she be that much worse off with him?”

“Loneliness isn’t–”

“Yeah, yeah," she waves off, “But this isn’t about you and what you would do, this is about a lonely person that will continue to be lonely no matter if she dates him or not.”

He takes a seat, quietly resting his arms on his lap.

“This has happened before, you’ve seen it before,” Qiao Ling continues, “And it’s never been an issue. Do you think you know what’s different this time?”

Belatedly, he shakes his head.

“Well, that’s a shame," she laughs, “Because I know why it is. It’s because it isn’t about her, idiot. You have your priorities in order, I’ll give you that.”

Cheng Xiaoshi, his brain supplies. The obvious answer.

Cheng Xiaoshi, who doesn’t trust anything that doesn’t hurt, who at this point has to trust Lu Guang with his damn life with how much good he’s managed to do. He doesn’t want Fenshi to end up with that piece of manipulative shit because he doesn’t want to admit that Xiaoshi would be just as willing to. That probably makes him a bad person.

But he knows that he’ll have to come to terms with that at some point or another.

“You can tell her whatever you want then," he says, more bitingly than he’d intended.

“I’ll tell her what she paid us to find out. Maybe she’ll end up finding happiness," she pauses, leaving the sentence feeling incomplete. Her lips close, and she smiles, shaking her head, “Maybe your priority will as well.”

“At this rate, I doubt it.”

“I most certainly don’t. But on that note, I’ve found out just a bit ago that one of my favorite shows just got renewed for another season, isn’t that just excellent?”

“I don’t give a shit about your romcoms.”

Lu Guang stands in front of the sofa, where Xiaoshi is reclined at an odd angle. He doesn’t have anything to say, but he knows he has to say something. Xiaoshi is looking increasingly concerned.

“Are you upset with me?” He asks, lowering his phone completely to his chest.

“I’m not.”

“Then, uh,” Xiaoshi lifts his hand in a show of confusion.

Lu Guang puts his hands in his pockets, and shifts his gaze to the wall. He really doesn’t have anything to say. It’s not for lack of wanting to, but he can’t seem to phrase what he wants Xiaoshi to hear.

He ends up settling on: “Stop distrusting yourself.”

“Stop–what?”

“Good things don’t need to hurt, and you’ve done nothing to deserve the punishment you’re giving yourself.” Xiaoshi doesn’t look any less confused, unfortunately. Lu Guang is already starting to feel his gut turn from the corny bullshit he was trying to say. “Got it?”

“I guess?”

“I think Lu Guang might be possessed. That’s what he said to me,” Qiao Ling says in between bites. “Why might that be?”

“Do you think you’re my therapist?”

“What do you think?”

Lu Guang thinks she should leave him be.

Her eyes light up in humor, as though she could hear him thinking. “Maybe you just need to work on your contextualization.”

“My contextualization is fine.”

“Clearly not.”

Lu Guang has his chin resting on a hand, thinking. Xiaoshi still looks concerned.

“Are you alright?” He has an annoying expression, as though Lu Guang were made of glass.

“I’m fine, thank you," he snaps, making Xiaoshi flinch. He exhales, closing his eyes. “Yeah, I’m alright. I’m just trying to phrase something properly.”

He can hear Xiaoshi fidgeting.

“It is," he says, ignoring the part of his brain cringing, “A well-placed concern. For you.”

He opens his eyes to Xiaoshi’s red face. “You don’t need to be concerned about me.”

“You would say that," he replies, tiredly, “And that’s the issue.”

When Xiaoshi doesn’t respond, he just shakes his head and stands.

“I’m going to the market. Do you need anything?”

The chief made his presence known in a brief and memorable encounter that Lu Guang intends to carry to his grave.

“I suspect there’s more to it than the evidence would suggest," is what the chief had said, “But I need to hear it from you, otherwise I won’t be able to close the case properly. Was Qiao Ling the one that stabbed you?”

Lu Guang wasn’t quite sure how to answer that, and he’d only been awake for around five hours, so he just furrowed his brow. “In personality, no.”

The chief nodded, and stood. He had gazed at the flowers with a complex expression. “I thought so. She’ll be released from house arrest as soon as possible then.”

Lu Guang felt he was deserving of a bit more context than that, but simply nodded. He’d figure it out once he got home.

It’s a Tuesday afternoon, and Lu Guang doesn’t want to answer any texts.

Despite that, there is a text from Dong Yi left unread. He can’t remember the last time he spoke to Dong Yi.

He also can’t imagine why he’d be receiving a text from Shanshan’s boyfriend unless there’s some sort of emergency, but Qiao Ling is just in the other room, and she has her phone on her. The curiosity gets the better of him.

Would you like to hang out this afternoon?

The answer is obviously no.

What brings this up?

It feels as though it ought to happen.

But Lu Guang can’t really argue with that.

Lu Guang isn’t entirely sure how walking connects to the upper abdomen, but he isn’t nearly as much of a fan of it as he once was, and he didn’t really like it then either. Alas, they’re in a strip mall, and Lu Guang isn’t rude enough to ask to go back.

“You watch any sports?”

“Basketball, sometimes, but I don’t keep up with it.” The two of them don’t have a lot in common, aside from their mutual friends. Lu Guang thinks they’re both akin to the wives of coworkers, in a way. “Do you?”

“Ah, no,” Dong Yi goes red, “But many guys do. It’s easier to just let them talk about it.”

Lu Guang wonders if someone put him up to doing this. Then again, it could very well just be that he’s being polite. “Mm. Xiaoshi’s old teammates would rant for hours.”

“They tend to," he says. Lu Guang smells a curry stand nearby. He tries to subtly eye the sign, to buy for Qiao Ling and Xiaoshi later, but the font is heavily stylized, and there are too many people for a clear view. “Do you like cooking at all?” Lu Guang turns back, pretending he isn’t disappointed by the fruitless efforts.

“I like to experiment, but I’m not good at it. Do you?”

“I do,” Dong Yi smiles, “Shanshan isn’t a great cook, so I plan to do most of it when we move in together.”

So it’s gone that far. Lu Guang makes an affirming nod, “When’s that going to be?”

“When both of our leases run out, I suppose," a furniture store catches his eye.

He and Xiaoshi never go to regular stores like that, only discount ones. Xiaoshi’s too anxious about saving money, most of the time. Then again, he doesn’t know where that new sofa came from, and it looks like it’s in pretty good condition. It could still be discount, but–

“What’s it like, living together?”

Lu Guang startles. “Sorry?”

Dong Yi blinks, “Living with Cheng Xiaoshi?”

“It’s," not something he thinks about often. Xiaoshi at home is just an ordinary part of his day, like a nosy cat you come back to after work. “It just feels natural. It’s strange to go home and find that he isn’t there, at this point.”

“I see," he smiles, “I hope that it’ll be like that for me as well.”

If you were to ask Lu Guang how much money you needed to properly stock a kitchen before, he would have said something around a thousand yuan. If this last hour was teaching him anything, it’s that one thousand is an insanely lowball number.

Lu Guang isn’t even sure what all these things do. Surely most everything can be done with a large enough pot, chopsticks, and a spoon?

“Well, it can be difficult to make wrappers without the proper tools,” Dong Yi explains, “It’s definitely possible, but it takes a great deal of skill and practice. Most people don’t have time for that, so it’s easier with something like this.”

He holds up a strange, circular device. It’s intricately designed, like everything else in this store. Lu Guang believes him, but he had no intention of trying to make his own wrappers to begin with. The store bought ones work fine.

“But what I’d like to find is a good stand mixer," another tool that Lu Guang doesn’t understand the point of, “So that I can try to make desserts at home. You ever bake for Xiaoshi?”

“I think I would poison him if I tried.”

Dong Yi barks out a laugh, “I think that’s a bit extreme. Just needs a bit more practice, it’s fairly easy to follow a cake recipe, and frosting isn’t…” Dong Yi tapers off. Lu Guang follows his gaze out of the store and to a toy stand. He gives Dong Yi a look.

“I was just looking at that strawberry plush, Shanshan would like it quite a lot. Besides that, I don’t think this store has what I’m looking for," he sighs, “I might be better off just ordering it.”

Lu Guang trails behind him, glancing over the other plushies on display. They all sort of blur into each other, though that might just be because Lu Guang doesn’t particularly care for plushes. He doesn’t actively dislike them, they just don’t appeal to him all that much. But he can’t say the same for Xiaoshi.

It occurs to him that he should buy a plush for Xiaoshi.

And a small angry bear catches his eye. Really, it would be more accurate to say it stares into his soul. He isn’t sure how long he stands there, staring at the angry bear. He can’t seem to step away.

He doesn’t buy gifts for Xiaoshi all that often. For birthdays, sure, and boba if you can count that, but not simple things like this. Maybe he should build that habit. Especially since his job and hobbies seem to exclusively involve actively harming his psyche.

But then, the thought follows, Cheng Xiaoshi doesn’t like being treated as though he has value. So he can’t just buy the bear. That would be too easy.

Cheng Xiaoshi never makes things easy for him.

Sighing, he grabs a generic bunny along with the bear. To waste his own money.

“Suck it!”

“Oh come on, you have to be cheating!” They’re playing wii sports resort.

“You can’t cheat at bowling!” Qiao Ling is winning.

She reclines back on the sofa, laughing maniacally at the sore loser. Lu Guang sits next to her as Xiaoshi stands. Lu Guang very intentionally does him the mercy of not checking what his score is.

Xiaoshi really is pretty terrible at bowling. “Try aiming next time,” Qiao Ling chides.

Xiaoshi turns back to glare as his ball rolls into the gutter. The bowling announcer gives him a good try! He spins around at a rate that would snap an ordinary persons neck. “Oh, fuck off.”

“Be nice to the announcer, he’s only paid a stipend salary.” Xiaoshi sticks his tongue out at Qiao Ling. Ignoring their childish quarrel, Lu Guang passes over the bunny. She giggles, batting at one of the ears. “It’s cute, thank you!”

He grunts noncommittally.

Xiaoshi notices after his second gutter-ball. “A gift just for her, huh? How come nothing for me?” He smirks, settling on Lu Guang’s other side, “You care so little for your housemate?”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Lu Guang pulls out the bear.

“I’ll be just as – oh,” Xiaoshi sees the bear. He doesn’t take it, just stares. It’s a bit creepy, honestly.

Qiao Ling hits eight of the ten cones.

“Lu Guang,” he looks up, far more emotionally than Lu Guang was prepared for, “I–”

“Get up loser, it’s your turn!” Xiaoshi pivots, taking the bear as he stands.

He plays with the bear in hand for the rest of the game.

Late that night, Lu Guang gets up to drink water. Xiaoshi is entirely curled around the bear.

Lu Guang pulls up his blanket before climbing back into bed.

“How do they look?”

Xiaoshi gives his plate a complex gaze, pressing his lips into a thin line. “They’re uh, good," he nods to himself, “Good, pancakes?”

“Egg rolls.”

“They look horrible.”

Lu Guang almost wondered if his eyes were deceiving him when Xiaoshi finally took the time to visit.

Not because he had any notions that his friend wouldn’t come, but because of the state he was in. His hair was worse off than normal, his pallor sickly, and he’d seemed to have lost a few more pounds than Lu Guang thought possible.

Perhaps that’s why his first question was not, “How are you doing?” “What day is it?” or “Has business been alright?” but instead:

“Have you at least been drinking water?”

Xiaoshi had abruptly gained a light to his eyes that Lu Guang almost didn’t notice was absent. He’d informed Lu Guang that yes, in fact, he had been drinking water. Lu Guang then asked if he’d been eating.

“When there’s time," is what he said, quickly followed by, “You’ve been away for a bit.”

“I’d noticed. What day is it anyway?”

“August the 5th.” So three weeks. That about made sense, though he wasn’t sure why he’d taken so long to wake up. “They say it can happen sometimes, if particular arteries are hit,” Xiaoshi gave him a terribly sympathetic look, “And it’ll probably take a while to recover fully.”

Lu Guang had hummed, and lifted his hands up behind his head. Xiaoshi gave him an odd look at that moment, which he couldn’t quite place. “What’s the matter with you then?”

He tried not to react when Xiaoshi turned weary, like the question alone aged him. It’s just as well, because the expression had faded within a second, replaced by a quirked brow and a scoff. “Nothings the matter with me, asshole.”

“How about this one?” Qiao Ling giggles.

“This – how was this photo even taken?”

“Who knows! That’s the fun of it.”

“I’m not turning him into a bird.”

“You’re no fun.”

“Lu Guang?”

“What?” He snaps from the kitchen. He doesn’t mean to sound annoyed, but chopping onions neatly is more challenging than he first thought it would be.

Xiaoshi peeks in, “Just checking.”

Beads of rain are pelting their bedroom window, as though threatening to break in. Normally, Lu Guang would find this annoying.

But Dong Yi lent him a novel – Lu Guang has to admit that he has good taste – and Xiaoshi is actually asleep, so it’s almost like a comfort. He has tea and a blanket over his lap, his eyelids are just starting to feel heavy.

Not heavy enough to pull him away from the page he’s on. He only has three left until the end of the chapter. He’s well aware that reading while exhausted has never worked well, and he’ll have to reread them tomorrow if he wants to have any idea what they said, but that isn’t enough to steal his focus away.

A whine from their bunk bed is. He marks the page and leans over the side of the couch. Xiaoshi is crying in his sleep, gripping the blanket tightly.

Not awake enough to feel uncertain, Lu Guang gingerly places his fingers on Xiaoshi’s cheek. His eyes snap open.

He jerks his head up, Lu Guang barely managing to lift his hand so his nails won’t hurt him. Xiaoshi blinks into awareness. He tilts his head up to make eye contact, and stays there.

Lu Guang rests his head in his arms. “Nightmare?”

Xiaoshi looks away. Lu Guang lightly extends one of his hands to graze his forehead. “Yeah.”

“You get them often?”

“...Yeah.”

At least he’s being open about it. Lu Guang doesn’t know where he would’ve gone if he’d denied it. Granted, he doesn’t really know where he’s going now either. “What was it about?”

Xiaoshi shrugs. Not the reaction he was hoping for, but about the one he expected. If he doesn’t want to say anything, there isn’t much Lu Guang can do.

“Do you ever get them?” Xiaoshi whispers.

“Not really, I don’t dream much to begin with.”

“That makes sense,” Xiaoshi says, resting back down. “It would just be me getting them.”

Lu Guang doesn’t like the way he phrased that.

“It’s,” Xiaoshi brings the blanket up to his chin, “It’s weird, with you being back.”

Being back is still a term Lu Guang isn’t sure he can reconcile with. He didn’t feel like he was gone for that long to begin with. But he gets the feeling that isn’t the right thing to say, so he adjusts his hand to card through Xiaoshi’s hair.

Xiaoshi swallows, but doesn’t pull away.

“I’m not planning on leaving,” Lu Guang decides to say.

Xiaoshi doesn’t respond. Lu Guang can feel himself start to drift, so he just leaves his hand in Xiaoshi’s hair and accepts it.

The rain is clear, and the sun is bright, so Lu Guang and Xiaoshi are out for groceries.

And Lu Guang has a quest. He’s going to cook. He doesn’t know what he’s going to cook, but he suspects that the pastes flooding the ‘cooking’ section will have something to do with it.

Xiaoshi is eyeing him like a fox. “I hope you don’t expect me to know what to do with these.”

Lu Guang glares, squinting in the light that dances on his face like crystal glass, “I’m going to be the one cooking.”

“You are, huh.” Cheng Xiaoshi gives him a scrutinizing look. “I hope that you know what to do with these, then.”

“Fuck off.”

“It’s my gut too, you know. And my grocery budget," he adds, pitching into the produce section.

“You say that like it’s limited,” Lu Guang remarks. Their budget had managed to almost double since before the incident, so he has a lot more freedom for purchase.

Xiaoshi examines the fruit selection. “I didn’t do much shopping while you were away.”

Lu Guang picks up and feels a pepper. He has no idea if it’s good or not. “You did look thinner.”

“I guess so.”

It’s probably fresh. He places it into the basket and turns to Xiaoshi. “Did you eat anything at all?”

“I didn’t starve myself, if that’s what you’re asking,” Xiaoshi puts the pepper back on the display, grabbing a different one to replace it, “And I’m still not. You don’t need to be concerned about it.”

Lu Guang absolutely doesn’t believe him. He looks paler than he ought to, and his fingers shake when he releases the vegetable. Lu Guang decides he’ll pick up a sandwich from the premade section before they leave.

Lu Guang forgot how annoying it could be to carry groceries on the train.

Xiaoshi holds the heavier half of them. It makes him feel a bit useless, not having all of the strength he once did, especially since Xiaoshi doesn’t look like he has it either.

Especially now, since Lu Guang is really looking at him. He could be mistaken, but it almost looks like his fingers are going blue. Xiaoshi leans against the pole, eyes half-closed, breathing shallow.

“Xiaoshi?” Lu Guang murmurs, pressing into his shoulder. Xiaoshi turns over with unfocused eyes, and the train jolts.

Xiaoshi trips over.

With a hit of adrenaline, Lu Guang barely shoots over to catch Xiaoshi with his chest. Precariously balancing one of the baskets on his arm, he grabs the pole, forcing himself and Xiaoshi into an upright position.

After a beat, Xiaoshi grabs the pole himself, so Lu Guang at least knows that he’s conscious. “What was that?”

Xiaoshi shakes his head. “Just feeling a bit off. Don’t worry about it.”

Lu Guang disagrees, but doesn’t think anything he can say would get through to him. He doesn’t move until the train reaches their stop, though.

The cicadas are loud.

It is Summer, you know.

There’s a salary man who wants them to find a box that he and his sister had buried as kids. He presented a blurry photo of a tree branch, stained with time and coffee. The client had offered to pay them extra, which had made Lu Guang hesitant to take the photo until he clarified.

“It’s just that my little sister – she went missing soon after we buried it," the man explained, running a hand through his hair, “I was never able to find it. I think I had heat exhaustion or something that day. I just want to find it again.”

Naturally, Xiaoshi agreed immediately.

How are you feeling?

Just a bit dizzy.

Drink some water.

Gee, really?

Lu Guang quirks a brow. He doesn’t want to hear nonsense like that from Xiaoshi after yesterday. Nonetheless, he wanders over to a small fountain of water. Lu Guang is fairly sure it isn’t meant for drinking, but Xiaoshi does anyway. It’s a bit funny, seeing the perspective of a fountain from a child.

Do you think this is how Qiao Ling sees the world?

Xiaoshi chokes on the water. Don’t say things like that when I’m drinking!

Ha, sorry.

The waft of a refined lady’s perfume carries through the connection. Lu Guang closes his nose, as if that would do anything. She’s walking alongside a far younger, lethargic woman. “Don’t push the other kids!” The young woman yells into the field. Her mother only chuckles softly.

Lu Guang doesn’t like children.

“Gege!” This one included. Xiaoshi shoots up to the sound of a tiny girl. She’s got her arms crossed, looking stern. “Where did you put the shovel? I need it!”

Uh–

Look to your left.

Oh!

“It’s by the fence, meimei. You must be blind.” She stomps her foot.

“I’m not!” Xiaoshi laughs, wiping the water from his mouth. “It’s not funny! It’s important!”

“It’s important? How so?”

She grins, “I’ll show you! Grab the shovel for me.”

“Eh? Why am I grabbing it?” But she’s already running off. Xiaoshi groans, but obliges her request. She reminds me of Qiao Ling.

Mm. She seems more like you, Lu Guang thinks.

Nonsense.

The girl sprints back with a little wooden box. “Look!”

Xiaoshi looks. “What’s this?”

“It’s a treasure chest!” She puffs her chest. “Got all the treasure.”

“All of it?”

“Yuh-huh!” She wiggles. “All my treasures. And I," she snatches the shovel, “Am gotta bury it.”

“You’re gonna bury it?”

“Yep!” She looks exceptionally proud of herself. “For secret keepin.”

“Wow,” Xiaoshi raises his eyebrows. “All of your treasures?” She nods, excitedly, “And you’re going to just bury them like that?”

Cheng Xiaoshi.

It’s fine! He was thinking it, not me.

Lu Guang isn’t even going to pretend to know what that means. He’s tempted to just let Xiaoshi exist here, since his interactions feel so genuine. And since he isn’t particularly enjoying the cicada ambiance he’s being subjected to when he pays too much attention.

Mm. You have it your way.

I will, thanks.

It’s unusual for a dive to be this peaceful. Lu Guang could get used to this, honestly. Just sitting around, listening to Xiaoshi run around with “his” little sister. She picks a grassy spot near the trees, and commands that gege dig the hole for her. Xiaoshi says that it’s her treasure, so she should be the one to dig, but she pouts, and that’s enough to make him relent.

Their shovel is old and rusty, but the childish determination carries them through. He manages to dig out a hole just barely large enough to bury the chest without a trace. Lu Guang notes that he isn’t sweating, despite the heat and exertion.

The little girl delicately places the box, giving it a little kiss. She says it’s for good luck, and that gege needs to do it too. Xiaoshi does so. She giggles, plopping herself onto the grass. Xiaoshi picks the shovel back up, after taking a moment to remember where he put it.

His vision starts to blur when he’s filling the hole back in. Lu Guang has just about had it with this medical atrocity.

Don’t push yourself.

Xiaoshi startles. It’s fine. He said he had heat exhaustion anyway, this should line up.

He didn’t pass out. Take care of yourself. Lu Guang decides to get a glass of water. Visualizing the sort of heat the siblings are in is enough to make him thirsty, at least.

Stop worrying about my health. Lu Guang clicks his tongue.

When you start taking care of your health, I’ll stop worrying about it. How annoying. None of their glasses are clean. It’s Xiaoshi’s turn to do the chores. That goes for regularly too, idiot. He sighs, grabbing the dish soap.

You say that a lot, Xiaoshi remarks. He seems to pause. Do you care that much about me?

Evidently. If he’s doing this, Xiaoshi can do one of his chores. It’s only fair. We can step out now. This is where the box was buried.

Ah, right. But he doesn’t clap. Lu Guang stops scrubbing the glass.

Mm?

He’s still watching the little girl, stumbling back to the picnic blanket, where her parents have prepared lunch. It’s a simple western-style picnic, with sandwiches and juice. The blanket has a name stitched into the side that Xiaoshi’s subconscious links to the mothers name. The father lifts the little sister into the air, allowing the mother to wipe mud off of her feet.

Xiaoshi wears a somber expression. Do you think they have any idea that this’ll be their last picnic?

Not the slightest, Lu Guang replies, brow furrowing. We can’t change the past, Xiaoshi.

You don’t need to remind me so often. His meimei is giggling, kicking away the hand that cleans.

Hm. I’m not talking about the dive.

Xiaoshi blinks. Their client’s mother is calling him over, holding a hand by her mouth. He turns away. You’re right. I’m, uh… He swallows. We can step out.

And he’s back in the kitchen. Lu Guang looks up at him. “You’re going to do the laundry.”

“It’s really here.”

Lu Guang doesn’t like cold weather. The dry air makes his hands unsteady and stabs at his lungs. He doesn’t particularly like these open parks either, which he associates with screaming children and bugs. Luckily, this late in the day almost all of the families have already gone home. There isn’t much of an audience for their excavation.

The crickets are just beginning their night singing. It’s one of their last songs for the year, as they’ll all be gone by the time winter comes. Their client still wears his office suit, now covered in soot. His hands shake, but his voice is steady.

“I didn’t want to think she’s actually gone, you know. Even all these years later, I still want to believe that she’ll just show up at my front door.” Lu Guang glances at Xiaoshi, but he’s just listening. No odd expressions, simple empathy. “I know she won’t. I’ve accepted it, and I understand, I just," he sighs, “I suppose I want closure.”

It’s packed with eclecticism. A porcelain doll, a couple dozen little red envelopes, a plastic necklace, a tamagotchi, a rusty butterfly pin, a ping-pong ball, an intricate scarf, about a thousand ants, and a variety of other knick-knacks that Lu Guang isn’t particularly keen on trying to identify through the years of fade. Xiaoshi eyes the envelopes.

He brushes Lu Guang’s shoulder, and in a hushed tone, “She wanted to save up for a mansion. She was going to be a princess, living in the mountains.” He gestures to the butterfly, “That’s her family crest. It isn’t, but she decided it is. She saw something in a foreign drama about them.”

Lu Guang nods. Xiaoshi’s breath is warm on his cheek. Neither of them do anything with the proximity.

“It’s been so many years.” He snaps a bug off of his hand. “I guess I shouldn’t have expected it to be perfectly preserved. Maybe it’s true that it all wanes with time. Perhaps," he chuckles, and it isn’t in pity, “Perhaps this is a sign.”

He replaces the lid, pushing it back into the hole. Xiaoshi watches diligently as he reburies it, a complex sort of look in his eyes.

“Maybe to another little girl, it really will be a treasure box. But it only makes sense to keep it here.” He stands slowly, brushing the dirt off of his knees. It’s ineffective, since his hands are also covered. It’s the thought that counts. He turns to Lu Guang, serene. “Thank you for finding this for me. It’s very good to meet you two.”

“You as well.” They nod. Lu Guang waits for him to build distance before starting his leave – they’re walking in the same direction. He tells Xiaoshi that it’s time to go, but he doesn’t respond. He’s still staring ahead, brows furrowed. “Cheng Xiaoshi.”

He furrows further. “Wait!”

The man pauses.

Xiaoshi wavers. “It," he shakes his head. “I just want to know. How long does it take to accept it?”

He faces back. His expression shifts in understanding. “It took a while, I’ll admit. In fact, I don’t think I ever would have if it weren’t for what happened just this year.” He reaches into his shirt collar, gesturing for Xiaoshi to approach with his other hand. Lu Guang follows just behind.

He pulls out a locket. With a practiced motion, he pops it open. Two photos rest inside; a woman in a wedding dress, and a baby. “My wife and I had our baby girl a few months ago. We decided to name her Mei, after," he chuckles, “Well, it isn’t my sister’s name, but it’s just as well.” His eyes glisten, yet still his voice is stable. “She was born in a fitting time of year, she’ll be younger than her classmates. I can’t explain it, but I know it must be true. This is my sister, a new chance at her life. I will make sure it’s a good one.”

Xiaoshi nods.

“I have her and my wife, and I have my parents and hers. I think that’s what helped most," his voice catches, “Valuing what I have left in my family. It doesn’t fill the hole in my heart, but it expands the rest, and the void starts to feel less significant. This is my advice, I think. Value those in your life, and your losses will fade with time. They never disappear, but they will lessen.”

Xiaoshi has his hands deep in his pockets. Lu Guang notices the ear of a plush as he shifts.

“It’s difficult," he says, “I always think… they’ll leave as well. It makes it…”

“It does.” The man smiles, “But it gets easier.”

Xiaoshi nods.

Xiaoshi doesn’t say a word on the way home. Lu Guang isn’t sure if he should be doing the same.

Right as they’re about to go inside, he gives Lu Guang a look, and it seems like he’s about to say something, but he doesn’t. He just walks inside, quietly.

Xiaoshi spends a lot of time with Qiao Ling in the weeks after that client.

Lu Guang wonders if she finds it suspicious that he’s always asking if Xiaoshi’s eaten anything when they go out.

Lu Guang… actually makes pretty decent savory pancakes.

Xiaoshi congratulates him, and eats one of them. For reasons Lu Guang can’t identify, he starts to tear up slightly, and asks that Lu Guang keep trying to cook. Confused, he says he will, and Xiaoshi smiles.

Lu Guang nearly overheats his computer.

It’s not his fault that it can’t handle forty tabs. They’re necessary. He’s taking notes.

Because Xiaoshi isn’t recovering on his own, and Lu Guang knows he has to do something about it. He just doesn’t know what.

So.

He’s taking notes.

Life has a tendency to continue flowing, even when Lu Guang isn’t paying attention.

He feels a bit like a sea snail, going along its average course until something pulls it aside and forces it to confront the situation that it’s in. Try to stay in a ditch, and at some point a creature or wave will pull it away. Sometimes it’s to somewhere better, and somewhere it’s to the strip mall eight blocks down, where Shanshan is insisting that he helps her plan a surprise for Dong Yi.

Xiaoshi had been hesitant to let him go, which Lu Guang isn’t sure he’s able to fit into a sea snail analogy. And, he thinks more distantly, is a bit weird.

As Shanshan holds up yet another dress that Lu Guang is pretty sure looks just as nice as the last one, he adds Xiaoshi’s increasing codependency to an ever-growing list of mental notes. He pulls up his phone, partly to jot it down in a real way, and partly to look up what exactly it is that girls want to hear when they show you new clothing.

He glances at his phone, then the dress, and says, “It looks like it would compliment your hair.”

He has no way of knowing if that’s relevant or true, but Shanshan beams, so he assumes that he’s probably on the right track. She proceeds to show him at least twenty other dresses, all of which he supposes that he’s supposed to come up with unique responses to. By the end, he run fresh out of ideas, and just gives a nod that he hopes Shanshan can draw some meaning from.

Unfortunately, she doesn’t seem to be able to. “Well, which of these do you think I should pick?”

Lu Guang glances at the dozen dresses that remain hung on her arm. “Are we only choosing one?”

“I mean, I can’t afford that many,” Shanshan says, “And it’s really only for one date.”

Then why did we look at so many? Lu Guang doesn’t say. “How about that brown one?”

“Hm.” She gives it a long look. “Are you sure?”

She’d seemed pretty interested in it earlier, so he isn’t sure why she’s so hesitant now. “It’s nice looking,” he offers.

“Hm. Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Lu Guang will accept that. He takes the responsibility of putting all the dresses back, dearly hoping that this will prevent the cashier from thinking that they’re together. When Shanshan says that she hopes he’ll be open to doing this again, he tells her that she’d be better off asking anyone else.

Honestly, Lu Guang isn’t sure why this is the tipping point for him.

Xiaoshi is spacing out over a bowl of ramen, and Lu Guang has had about enough. With a sigh, he lifts his hand in front of Xiaoshi’s face – he doesn’t respond. He might be more sleep deprived than Lu Guang thought.

Lu Guang flicks him on the forehead.

The reaction is immediate and intense. Xiaoshi flinches back, knocking the hot broth right into Lu Guang.

“Shit,” Lu Guang gasps, arching his back to get his shirt off of his skin. When cool air hits his gut, his attention is back on Xiaoshi, who’s now solidly panicking.

Some sort of clarity seems to reach his eyes, and he clambers to the napkins, then to the floor. Even in its shallow form, Lu Guang is sure that the broth is hot, and he’s even more sure that Xiaoshi isn’t in the right state to avoid getting hurt.

So he grabs Xiaoshi’s wrists. He flinches again, but Lu Guang only holds tighter.

He isn’t sure what to say at this point. He’d had something choreographed, but he’s forgotten everything. “Stop,” is what he ends up saying. He follows it up with a well-worded, “I’m fine. I’ve survived soup before.”

Xiaoshi is trying not to hyperventilate. Lu Guang presses his thumbs into the grooves of his wrist, hoping it helps in some way.

“You need to calm down,” Lu Guang nearly begs, “It’s fine. We’re fine.”

Xiaoshi twists out of his grip, but stays on the ground.

“Are you alright?” Lu Guang presses.

Xiaoshi nods curtly. “I need to clean it up.”

“It can wai–”

“It can’t.” Xiaoshi stares hollowly at the spill. Lu Guang has never been more certain that something can wait, but decides – with the very enticing argument that is his wet shirt – that it isn’t worth pushing. Of all the battles he’s going to be fighting tonight, this is the one he’s willing to lose.

“Alright. I’m going to change, I’ll be right back.” Xiaoshi nods.

It did actually burn him. It’s messing up the mostly-healed scar, and he isn’t looking forward to how that’s going to look later. He pulls on a graphic shirt and sweatpants.

He must’ve spent a good amount of time staring in the mirror, because when he gets back down, the floor is clean, and Xiaoshi is cooped up on the couch. “Sorry," he starts, “I di–”

“I said it’s fine,” Lu Guang cuts him off, plopping next to him. “It doesn’t hurt. But Xiaoshi,” Xiaoshi pulls a leg in, “We need to talk about this. You aren’t taking care of yourself.”

He doesn’t reply.

“I’m not going anywhere," he turns so that Lu Guang can only see his back. Lu Guang places a hand on his shoulder blades. “And nothing is going to change that. This self-sacrificing thing you have going on isn’t helping us, and it’s only going to hurt you in the long run.”

But Xiaoshi doesn’t respond. He’s still breathing, shallowly, but he doesn’t react at all. Lu Guang didn’t really expect him to.

“Xiaoshi," he hesitates, “You’re hurting yourself. I wasn’t sure at first, but I know that to some degree, it’s intentional.” Xiaoshi doesn’t argue. “And it’s worrying me. I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing to help, but I want to. I care about you.”

Xiaoshi hiccups.

“So please talk to me. Let me help.”

But Xiaoshi still doesn’t respond.

Lu Guang is pretty sure he isn’t going to get anywhere tonight. But he knows Xiaoshi isn’t coming to bed, so Lu Guang isn’t either. He’ll stay here, trying to provide some sort of comfort. That hasn’t seemed to fail him, when all of his other ideas have.

So Lu Guang stays put, hand on his back.

He isn’t sure when he fell asleep, but when he wakes up, Cheng Xiaoshi has cooked him scrambled eggs.

It’s only getting chillier, and Lu Guang doesn’t want to ever go outside.

Life has a habit of not listening to him, though.

Qiao Ling, Xu Shanshan, and Dong Yi have planned a lunch date. Qiao Ling invited them to feel less like a third wheel, and neither of them can really say no to her. It’s far enough away for a significant walk, but not far enough to justify a train. Unfortunately.

“But Lu Guang, it’s freezing!!”

And more than that, it’s cold. It’s already deep into autumn, and the winds are growing stronger. Lu Guang prepared for this, and Xiaoshi did not.

“You should have considered it when we were leaving. You knew it was cold.”

Cheng Xiaoshi pouts, “But I didn’t know it would be windy! You’re still wearing so many layers, the sweater can’t make much of a difference.”

It does. Lu Guang turns to glare at him, “You still should have thought about it beforehand.”

He wants to turn back, but despite the dramatic look, there’s an odd anxiety in Xiaoshi’s eyes. Lu Guang thinks this is some sort of manipulation. He thinks that Xiaoshi isn’t entirely aware of it. He never is, really. It’s a part of what makes him appealing. Lu Guang sighs.

He flicks Xiaoshi’s cold nose, making him yelp, but pulls off his sweater and throws it into Xiaoshi’s arms. He expects some sort of retort for this, but instead, Xiaoshi is quiet. Lu Guang is frigid now, so he turns around to tell his friend to hurry up.

Xiaoshi gets a strange, subtle smile, and walks faster.

Lu Guang has been eyeing everyone’s warm jackets with thinly veiled jealousy.

That includes his friends' coats, which they’re shamelessly throwing over the backs of their seats as if they aren’t cotton gold. A small noise is the only warning he gets before Xiaoshi nearly topples him over, sprinting to the front of the store. When he huffs, his breath is foggy.

Luckily for him, the inside of the cafe is toasty.

“Xiaoshi! Glad you could make it," Shanshan hands him a menu. Lu Guang makes his way to the table. “It’s been a while, huh?”

It’s a pleasant place, nice and cozy. The walls are lined with false plants and plastered with red, flowery wallpaper. It smells like cinnamon and sugar. He wonders how the business is during the summer, since it seems so oriented to fall.

“Hm, guess so,” Xiaoshi says, taking a seat beside her. Qiao Ling twists around to quirk a brow at Lu Guang, suspiciously. Lu Guang would rather sit apart from her with that look, but it’s the only available chair. He glares at the designer bag taking up Dong Yi’ s side. “Never been here before, have you?”

“Not often, but my dad took me here a while ago. Good coffee!”

Qiao Ling glances at Xiaoshi, then back, smirking mischievously. Lu Guang thinks that Qiao Ling is far too observant.

He seriously considers walking right back out the door.

“I’ll have to try it then. Lu Guang doesn’t like coffee much though,” Shanshan glances around, waving when she spots the poor unfortunate soul. Xiaoshi looks up as well. “Except mochas, right? I can’t be misremembering.”

Lu Guang glares harder. “That’s right.”

Xiaoshi grins. Qiao Ling grins as well, but not nearly as innocently. As soon as Lu Guang takes his seat, she presses herself to his ear.

“That doesn’t look like his sweater, Guang Guang,” Lu Guang rolls his eyes, batting her face away when she starts snickering. “Don’t you like mochas, Lu Guang?”

“Shut your mouth. I was just tired of hearing this idiot complain about the cold.”

“Ah, but Guang Guang~” She sing-songs. “That’s never stopped you from letting him freeze before. Why, this is almost romantic of you, wouldn’t you say?”

Xiaoshi’s face is bright red.

“Ah, that’s right! I remember you wearing that sweater all the time, huh?” Shanshan giggles.

“Don’t want to hear anything from you, of all people,” Lu Guang mumbles, watching Xiaoshi slink into the fleece, “You’re not wearing your sweater either.”

Shanshan tilts her head, “Sure, but that’s all fine. It would’ve mattered in university maybe, but not now.” Xiaoshi pulls the sweater entirely over his head.

Lu Guang pulls the menu from Xiaoshi’s side of the table. “The coffee does look good. How did your dad find this place?”

“It was really just by chance!” She turns suddenly, dropping the topic. Qiao Ling is still smirking behind her menu. While Shanshan is explaining, she turns back to Lu Guang.

“Don’t suppose you know what Xiaoshi will be ordering as well?”

He smacks her with the menu.

“–So what can I get started for you?”

“Two mocha frappes for me and him, please!” Shanshan hands her menu to the waitress, “And a swiss croissant.”

Dong Yi nods, handing over his menu as well.

“Just a hot chocolate for me, please,” Qiao Ling says.

The waitress turns to Lu Guang. “A mocha for me," she nods, “And vanilla frappe for him," he gestures loosely to Xiaoshi, trying to seem nonchalant. He doesn’t check his reaction, but he can hear Qiao Ling trying and failing to conceal her cackling.

“Da-doo, da-doo, da-ba, ba, ba.”

It’s sunny, and Xiaoshi has been playing with the bear on Lu Guang’s knee for the past several minutes. Lu Guang is just trying to read a book. He marks the page he’s on, but doesn’t close it. The bear falls off, and Xiaoshi acts as though it has to climb back up like a tree.

Lu Guang won’t be able to focus while Xiaoshi is doing this, but he isn’t willing to give him the satisfaction of letting him know. He turns a page he hasn’t read.

“I, Emperor Xiong, declare these the ugliest mountains in all of China,” Lu Guang kicks him in the side, “The ugliest and the meanest. May no temples ever be built in this unholy land.”

He makes the bear bow triumphantly. Lu Guang turns another page, to the sound of Xiaoshi’s giggles. The bear peaks over the book.

“This wall will protect us from the great beast.”

Lu Guang huffs, “You mean great as in large or great as in excellent?”

“Hmm,” the bear contemplates, “Great as in fat.”

Lu Guang throws his book at Xiaoshi.

“What do I have to pay you to make you go to sleep?”

Xiaoshi jumps, “Hey! I nearly spilled my tea.” He pouts.

Lu Guang couldn’t care less. “Is it chamomile?”

“Ginger.”

“Ginger?” He flicks on the light, “Are you sick?”

Xiaoshi shrugs, “I don’t know, but my throat is sore. Do we have honey?”

“Top shelf, far left,” Xiaoshi opens it up. With the light on, Lu Guang can see the light flush on his cheeks. He reaches over the counter to press against his forehead. No fever.

“Diagnosis?” Xiaoshi jokes.

“Refusing to take care of yourself,” Lu Guang brings his hand back, “All the signs point to it.”

“Well,” Xiaoshi pops open the cap, “Well.”

“Well.” He snorts when the honey bottle makes a squirting sound. Lu Guang takes one of the stools to sit, using his fist to rest his head. “You still won’t talk to me.”

Xiaoshi purses his lips. He lifts the transparent container to his eyes. “We’re out now.”

“Seems so,” Lu Guang says, “Will you continue to be sick like this?”

Xiaoshi tosses the honey into the trash, “Who knows," he takes a sip of his tea, wincing as he swallows. Lu Guang makes a mental note to go to the market tomorrow, “I don’t mean to.”

“Yeah," he sighs, “I know.”

He’s quiet now, so Lu Guang gestures for him to sit at the counter with him. Xiaoshi does, sipping his tea as Lu Guang’s eyelids droop. He places his tea down. Lu Guang opens his eyes properly, but it doesn’t look like Xiaoshi plans to say anything.

He has a haunted expression, like he’s staring into the face of something that shouldn’t exist. Slowly, he brings a hand to Lu Guang’s face. He brushes away a hair that was getting in his eye. His fingers are cold, but Lu Guang doesn’t react to it. He thinks he’s too tired to.

Xiaoshi returns his gaze to the tea. “You should go to bed.”

“Will you follow?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Then I’ll stay here.”

For once, it’s Xiaoshi who decides not to argue.

Sometimes, Qiao Ling will bring him photos without telling Xiaoshi.

It’s become a habit of theirs, to keep the more terrible photos away from him. Sometimes they’ll lighten it up some, she’ll bring joking photos that she knows Xiaoshi would mess up but she just thinks are funny.

She has a stony expression.

“I’m sorry to be bringing this to you.”

“What is it?”

“It’s just," she blinks away tears, “I know the world is a bad place sometimes, but I like to pretend that it’s not," she holds out her phone with shaky hands, “I hate when they come up to me with stuff like this. And there isn’t anyone else I can talk to. You don’t have to read the messages, I think the photo will explain itself.”

It’s a fairly innocuous picture of flowers in a windowsill. But it turns out that this is the last photo that this man sent before committing suicide, to show his mom how he’d been taking care of the plant she gave him. She wants to know why he did it, because he didn’t explain in the note. She’d thought he was getting better.

But really, he was lying, to try to spare her feelings.

It rings a little too true for Lu Guang. He swallows. Quietly, Qiao Ling pulls him into a hug.

Lu Guang doesn’t often find himself restless, and Xiaoshi knows this.

He just can’t help but see Xiaoshi in that photo. He wonders if one day he’ll find something similar. He worries about it.

Xiaoshi pulls a movie up on his laptop, and brings them to the couch.

Lu Guang doesn’t really watch it. It’s such a classic romance that he can guess the plot from the titlecard alone. But he stays there, on the couch, because Xiaoshi is beside him. And while he’s there, Lu Guang can know he’s okay.

Xiaoshi starts coughing. Startled, Lu Guang puts the back of his hand to his forehead again. It’s still not quite a fever, but he’s warmer than he should be.

“Stop that,” Xiaoshi gravels, pushing the hand away, “You don’t need to be so worried, it’s just a cold.”

“I’ll be as worried as I want to be,” Lu Guang counters tiredly, trying to push away the image of Xiaoshi falling to his self-hatred. He can’t help but feel like it grows closer every day.

“Well stop,” Xiaoshi says, voice cracking, “It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing, Cheng Xiaoshi.”

“Then it’s not worth it,” Xiaoshi pulls one of the throw blankets over his chest, “If anything, I should be worried about you.”

Lu Guang glares. “I’m doing fine. I’ve been doing fine. It’s stupid to worry about me.”

Xiaoshi’s face hardens. He backs away. “Stupid?” He says, “Stupid?”

“Yes, stupid,” Lu Guang snaps, setting the laptop onto the floor. “I don’t understand why you’ve been reacting like this, I’m fine.”

Xiaoshi sits straight. “How dare you.”

“Excuse me?”

“How dare you,” Xiaoshi repeats, “I thought you were dead. I thought, for hours, that you were dead. I thought for weeks that you wouldn’t come back, that you were gone forever. I thought Qiao Ling was gone forever," his voice cracks, “And you don’t understand why I’ve been reacting like this?”

He stands on wobbly legs, glaring.

“You want me to talk? I thought everything I thought I knew was gone, and you just come back like nothing’s different, and you act like nothing’s different, like I don’t see that scar every day,” Xiaoshi cries, “Like I wasn’t alone for a month, thinking everyone I loved was going to leave forever, and you don’t understand why–”

Lu Guang stands with him, making Xiaoshi back further.

He stares at Lu Guang with unbearably hurt eyes. “Do you even care?”

“Of course I care,” Lu Guang says, “I just don’t– I’m back. Can’t we just move on?”

Xiaoshi sniffs, steps forward, and slaps him across the cheek. Lu Guang stumbles, raising a hand to his face.

“Fuck you,” Xiaoshi snarls, before turning and sprinting out the front door.

Lu Guang really doesn’t want to answer the phone, but he knows there’s only one possible reason Qiao Ling could be calling.

Reluctantly, he clicks the call. “God dammit, Lu Guang.”

“I know.”

“No you don’t know! How did you even manage to mess up this badly?”

“It," he hesitates, “I just don’t–”

“So you listen, nimrod! Xiaoshi isn’t you, and you of all people should know that. He can’t just get over something like this, and you know why!” She yells into the receiver, “And since you know why, since you care so damn much, you should be putting in more effort!”

Lu Guang, stupidly, asks, “What do you mean?”

Qiao Ling goes quiet. “You better be glad I don’t want to change into clothes right now, or I’d be beating your ass.” That’s fair, Lu Guang concedes, “Xiaoshi isn’t just anybody to you, right?”

“...right.”

“You care about him. He cares about you. Right?”

“Right.”

“He’s tried adapting to you, making you happy. If you really care about him, you should be willing to do the same.”

Lu Guang closes his eyes. “But what am I doing wrong?”

He hears a sigh through the phone. “You’re not working on the level that he does. Believe me when I say this, Xiaoshi won’t talk about what’s wrong. You just have to know, and prove that you know. Prove that you’ll be there. You’ve done it sometimes, by accident, I guess, but you have to do it intentionally. And I know it’s hard, and that I’m asking a lot, but I also know how much you care about him. This is what you do for people you care for.”

“...right.” She’s right. He’s known that she’s right. He opens his eyes. “I don’t know where he is, though.”

He’s sitting at a table at a nearby cafe. He didn’t go far at all.

Lu Guang pulls up a chair. Xiaoshi doesn’t look at him, but he also doesn’t move. Lu Guang chooses to take that as a good sign.

He clears his throat. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Xiaoshi says. “You’re right, I should be over it by now.”

“No, you shouldn’t be.” Xiaoshi turns with watery eyes. “I know that. Especially you.”

The crickets aren’t singing tonight. “You should really stop worrying about me.”

An impossibility, Lu Guang decides. “I’ll always worry about you. Even when nothing’s wrong. I don’t think I do much except worry about you.” Tears start to streak down his cheeks, glistening in the streetlights. “Because I care about you. I want you to be alright, and one day I’ll make sure you are.”

He reaches over the table to wipe away the lines of tears. Xiaoshi turns his gaze down. “We can just forget it, it’s alright.”

“We can pretend we didn’t fight, if you want, but don’t forget what I’ve said just now.”

He holds his hand in place. Xiaoshi leans into the touch, absentmindedly. “We should go home.”

The next day, like he said he would, Xiaoshi pretends it never happened.

At the very least, he seems a little more well-rested.

The chief sends Lu Guang a text, asking him to meet somewhere for a discussion.

Regretfully, Lu Guang accepts.

Now, Lu Guang’s general strategy for getting through life is to avoid talking to anyone he doesn’t need to, accept that emotions exist, and move right along. This has worked well for him so far, and keeps him in a fairly mild mood most of the time.

But not today.

Today, he is, as Xiaoshi would phrase it, fucking pissed.

And he is trying to disguise it by playing the angriest game of TETRIS ever known to man.

“Absolutely not. I can’t believe I even have to tell you that.”

“I wouldn’t be asking if I had any other choice. There aren’t any other leads, this may be the only chance we have.”

“That doesn’t sound like it’s my problem.”

“What did those squares ever do to you?” Cheng Xiaoshi plops next to him, “Boba, by the way.”

Lu Guang doesn’t look up. “Thanks.”

“Mhm.” Xiaoshi peers over, blocking part of his vision. For this crime, he gets headbutted.

“You can see what happened, do you really want to let that happen to more young women?”

“Don’t pull morality into this,” Lu Guang snapped, “Do you really want me to make Cheng Xiaoshi go through this? Use your good sense.”

He sighed, “It’s still the only shot we have. This isn’t a simple criminal, Lu Guang.”

“All the more reason for me not to take it. Do I look like a PI to you?”

“I won’t force this on you," he closed the file, “However–”

“Shut the hell up. Have a nice day.”

He beats his high score by a large margin. Xiaoshi gives him a small applause for it. He closes his phone, taking one of the bobas Xiaoshi was keeping, not paying attention to which. Xiaoshi gives his a little swirl like some sort of influencer.

“What’s up?” He asks, “You don’t get upset like that.”

Lu Guang sips derisively. “Just a fight with an idiot.” Xiaoshi furrows his brow, “Not you.”

He nods, hesitantly.

“I’ll tell you later.”

“However, we have no idea how many more women will go missing by the time we find him. It could be in the dozens, we aren’t even sure we’ve found all of them. Are you really willing–”

“I said,” Lu Guang snapped around, “Do not bring morality into this. I’m not willing to put women through torture, but I’m also not willing," he spat, “To put my best friend through that.”

To his astonishment, the chief actually looked taken aback.

“Bring it up to me again and I’ll put a dent in your face.”

“When’s ‘later’?”

“When the moron gains a bit of sense.”

The chief decided to approach Xiaoshi directly, and he agreed without hesitation.

“Did he even tell you what the case is for? Think for a second, honestly.”

Xiaoshi flinches back, glaring, “Think? Why don’t you think? All those women had to go through that for no reason, and you were willing to just ignore it?”

From the perspective of Xiaoshi’s black and white view, yes.

The case is a compilation of serial kidnappings in the area, all resulting in the eventual deaths of the girls kidnapped. They all went through severe torture and assault before their eventual deaths. All from blunt force trauma, all found in different locations, but always blinded, and always in a large men’s shirt, wildly different from what they were wearing when they disappeared.

“I wasn’t willing to ignore it,” Lu Guang refuses to raise his voice, but his tone is bordering on snappish, “I was willing to let the police deal with it.”

“The police are trying to deal with it! But they can’t!” Lu Guang can’t think of a valid response to that. For all intents and purposes, that’s true. “And I can,” his voice shakes, “So I want to.”

Cheng Xiaoshi is more empathetic than he has any right to be. Lu Guang demands to know the price of the commission.

It’s high enough that he doesn’t really have room to argue.

Xiaoshi’s leg is bouncing, and he’s been sweating cold for hours. Still, whenever Lu Guang starts to offer a way out, he’s met with a glare. He stopped opening his mouth a while ago. When they high five, Lu Guang tries to hold on a few seconds longer.

The victim took a picture of a stray cat on her way home from work. It’s in a strange location with few security cameras. Does she live nearby?

Rent is cheap, Xiaoshi responds. An unsafe apartment is better than any street.

Fair enough, Lu Guang concedes.

The victim doesn’t have much time left. She didn’t know what was going to happen, but Lu Guang thinks it’s still fair enough for Xiaoshi to be as nervous as he is, given the context. He wishes he could give some sort of reassurance, but he doesn’t want to lie.

Instead, after a short while, he says, don’t fight back. This was a while ago, and she wasn’t strong enough.

And he doesn’t.

Then it’s quiet.

What Lu Guang didn’t say to Xiaoshi or the chief is that the real reason for his insistence wasn’t all in sympathy. In fact, it was mostly selfish.

Some sort of sheer need to protect this one person; as though his own soul would be hurt whenever Xiaoshi was. There aren’t many things Lu Guang allows to get that close, and he’s willing to do strange things to defend those that do. Threaten an officer, for one.

Shed actual tears in silence, for another. That’s an oddball.

Almost five hours later, Lu Guang hears Xiaoshi call his name through their connection. He drops what he’s doing to speak, asking how his friend is feeling.

The floor is cold. Is it just dark, or am I blindfolded? There are bruises on nearly every part of his body, and what has to be a friction burn on his leg. He might have a concussion, but it’s hard to say. It could just be a headache.

It’s still night, but there is a blindfold. In around twenty minutes, the kidnapper will be coming around to unblind him. Lu Guang isn’t sure what their suspect gains from the odd blinding habits. Maybe he doesn’t gain anything, or it’s simply to disorient them. Based on sound alone, he’d say it’s working, if that’s the goal.

He laments. Lu Guang hopes they’ll be able to get enough from this alone, but isn’t sure. He picked this photo because it puts Xiaoshi through the least torture of all of them, but it’s hard to say how good the view will be. They have almost no shot of getting their culprit's name, so they’re betting on a description. Hopefully, once the blindfold is removed, they’ll get that.

Until then, Lu Guang tries to keep his friend calm. He’s acting as though he is, but Lu Guang knows better. He assures Xiaoshi that it’ll be over soon, and he’ll stay by his side. That doesn’t calm him down much, but it does somewhat. Lu Guang decides to take that a win.

Cheng Xiaoshi asks Lu Guang what he’s doing right now.

I’m making a dumpling soup.

Are you trying to give yourself food poisoning?

Fuck off.

Though he might be. The ingredients he’s using are all fresh, but that doesn’t mean the food will come out well. His mother had taught him how to pinch the dumplings when he was small, and what he has in front of him now looks like a mockery of her craft.

Tell me more?

So he does. Every little bit, from the preparations to the technique. Lu Guang doesn’t think he’s ever heard Xiaoshi this invested in a dumpling recipe before. He seems oddly impressed by what Lu Guang tells him. Lu Guang isn’t sure whether to feel flattered or annoyed by that, so he opts for the latter. Xiaoshi simply explains that he’s not used to Lu Guang being competent in the kitchen.

Well I don’t see you trying to cook us nice dinners, Lu Guang argues.

You have! Don’t go trying to gaslight me, I can see right through you.

It’s been months since you last cooked.

It’s been months since you last asked.

That’s probably true enough, but, I’m making this without being asked at all.

And I bet you think you’re– Lu Guang. He can’t find a wooden spoon. Surely they own one, he’s used it before, but today it’s gone.

I do think I’m Lu Guang.

No, Lu Guang… He does manage to find a rather large soup spoon, which he assumes will work just as well. Hm.

Xiaoshi, I need you to tense your core and neck. Xiaoshi lets out a yelp as he’s dragged across the floor. Don’t kick him. It won’t change the timeline, but it will make him angry. I don’t want you to get more hurt than you have to, he doesn’t say. The woman–

Bei Shang?

–Bei Shang was fairly vocal, but don’t worry too much about whether or not you say anything. It shouldn’t make a difference in the end. It won’t be that bad for the time we’re here. We just need to get a profile and get out.

Right.

He says it so matter of factly that he’s sure Cheng Xiaoshi can’t tell how he’s really feeling about it. He was already aware of what would happen in the photo, but hearing it in real time is a different experience altogether.

There’s a sound like a dying hog, which Lu Guang realizes must be his laughter. Xiaoshi gags, trying and failing to squirm away from the captor. His hands, calloused and thick, are scouring the victim’s body, squeezing tightly on her breasts and thighs.

“Why? What is this?” Scuffing across the floor. “Please, what do you want? Where am I? What are you going to do to me?”

Overgrown nails leave scrapes on his cheek, and without the visual input they feel as though they cover his whole face. The pig removes the blindfold. To Lu Guang’s dismay, the combination of adjusting to the dark and a probable head wound make for a blurry image, though Cheng Xiaoshi keeps trying to get a closer look. He squints carefully, but his vision warbles.

Lu Guang thinks he hears a, “What’s this?” From their suspect. He isn’t sure what that means, so he just checks the temperature of the water and soup base again. He burns his finger. Probably warm enough, then.

“W-what’s what?”

The kidnapper crouches right into Cheng Xiaoshi’s face, but only the whites of his eyes manage to be visible. Lu Guang wonders how bad his head injury must be to cause that sort of impairment. He starts to carefully load the dumplings into the soup base.

Abruptly, the whites widen, and the man slams Cheng Xiaoshi’s head into the wall. Lu Guang flinches sharply.

Cheng Xiaoshi?

He only moans in response. Not a good sign at all. Lu Guang decides he isn’t going to risk it.

I’m bringing you ba-

“No!” He shouts, still trying to see through the blurring vision.

The kidnapper shoves a sock into his mouth, muttering that he didn’t go through all the trouble of getting here to deal with noise now. As he starts to grab between her legs, Lu Guang brings his friend back to the present.

Xiaoshi stumbles towards the dumpling pot. In a panic, Lu Guang drops the spoon and pulls him into his chest.

Cheng Xiaoshi pushes away. His vision may be unfocused, but he glares sharply still.

“I could’ve gotten it, why did you pull me back?”

“Because I couldn’t let that happen to you.” Not good enough, Xiaoshi knows that it still did happen to the girl. That’s always how he works, thinking of others before himself. Lu Guang isn’t sure how he’s avoided getting himself killed. “Your vision wouldn’t have cleared anyway, it would have been all for nothing.”

That seems to make sense to him. Lu Guang is grateful, because he needs to put the rest of the dumplings into the pot. The timing will be messed up now.

“Will we have to do that again tomorrow?”

Lu Guang doesn’t respond to that. Xiaoshi already knows the answer.

“Will you bring me back when we get to that tomorrow as well?”

He sets a timer for ten minutes. Maybe nine would be better.

“You…” Actually, he’ll just watch the pot. “You won’t look, right?”

“I’ll have to.”

“Oh.”

Cheng Xiaoshi pales.

“You won’t be alone.”

Maybe that was the wrong thing to say. Cheng Xiaoshi looks even worse. Lu Guang stares, intimidatingly. He realizes what he’s doing, and tries to squint his eyes to look less so. This seems to confuse his friend. Lu Guang supposes that’s better than what he had before.

He can’t actually tell by looking when the dumplings will be done. He should have set a timer after all.

“They probably won’t taste good.”

Cheng Xiaoshi checks the pot. “They look fine to me.”

They couldn’t possibly, but Lu Guang nods. It occurs to him that he should put away the ingredients he pulled out. Cheng Xiaoshi notices. He puts away the cabbage. Lu Guang tells him to bring out bowls and spoons for the soup. He does. Lu Guang tells him to turn off the heat when it looks ready. He does. Lu Guang spoons the broth and dumplings into the bowls and tells him to eat. He does. Lu Guang fills a glass with water and joins him at the counter.

“Maybe it’ll be better since you’re there.”

Lu Guang tastes the broth. It honestly isn’t half bad, though that might be because it came in a package. His own attempt at a broth would be undoubtedly worse. “I just don’t want you to be alone. I didn’t want to put this case on you anyway.”

Cheng Xiaoshi slurps his soup in a way that Lu Guang thinks would be disgusting for anyone else. He can’t figure out why it isn’t for this person in particular. “Thank you.”

It hits him for the first time that Cheng Xiaoshi doesn’t ever let himself be quiet in this way when someone else is there. For some reason, it makes him smile.

They were given four photographs, each taken several months apart from the others. There were, to his memory, five other known victims, but only these four had taken photos within twelve hours of their kidnapping.

And none of the remaining three stand out as particularly good or bad. Comparatively. Cheng Xiaoshi suggests they go in chronological order.

The second victim sent a selfie to her boyfriend after a long day of work, showing him the bags under her eyes. Cheesily, he’d said that it looked like celebrity makeup on her. Lu Guang had to disagree with that assessment. Xiaoshi tells him how mean that is, and tosses a piece of candy at his nose. It stings, and he pretends it doesn’t. Xiaoshi sticks his tongue out, childishly.

Lu Guang wonders if the sunlight has a direct impact on his emotions. He tells Xiaoshi that he’s like a morning glory in this way.

Xiaoshi seems to startle in his periphery. Lu Guang gives him a look.

“W-well it’s just,” he stammers, “Is this–has this been,” his face turns beet red, “A-are you flirting with me?”

Lu Guang unwraps a candy. He wasn’t. “I can, if you want.”

Xiaoshi freezes. Then he unwraps a candy of his own. “There’s an episode of New Love releasing today at eight. I want a recap of it.”

Lu Guang doesn’t acknowledge the non-answer, and he isn’t even really bothered by it. Maybe he’ll think about the implications of that when he’s giving the recap. “I’m not watching your stupid drama.”

He isn’t sure whether to inform Xiaoshi of the moment he’ll be struck or not. Xiaoshi never asks. Instead, he reiterates the supposed importance of the broadcast, as if Lu Guang could have forgotten. The silence following the syringe is cold and stiff. Lu Guang wonders if the needle is the same one as before.

He turns on the romcom. They always drag on normally, but today the forty minute episode may as well have lasted for hours. At least this time, only one of the male leads seems like a walking danger sign.

What do you think?

Lu Guang chokes on his tea. Qiao Ling has texted him a picture of the ugliest shoes known to man. There’s a price tag beside them for thirty thousand yuan.

Those shoes are used for money laundering.

The audacity of this man, honestly.

Nothing wrong with contributing to the salaries of our local street gangs.

She sends a round of laughing emojis; purchase locally to help with your community today!

Am I awake?

Yes. How do you feel?

Take a guess.

He ordered extra take-out for Xiaoshi.

One of the few useful things Lu Guang was able to glean from his futuresight was that the women are always taken to a basic storage unit. Unfortunately, the cities have no shortage of those, and with the time it takes all of the victims to wake up it’s difficult to say how close it is to their starting location.

This woman isn’t in quite as bad of a state as the last one. For now.

Like a hit, Xiaoshi’s senses return to life. The scents and sounds overwhelm the connection, and they make Lu Guang feel sick. There’s a rot to the air, and a coppery stench to the ground. Lu Guang didn’t know cement could hold smells before, but he supposes he does now. He blames the head injury for not making it quite so pungent last time.

He sighs wearily, dropping his food to the table. Maybe that’s a good sign for them.

When you get unblinded, try to get a better look at your surroundings. If we can’t get his face, a location might be just as good. Since the location is almost certainly the same.

Alright. How long?

Four minutes.

Maybe he should have just said soon. Xiaoshi starts to breathe more shallowly, swallowing to try to calm it down.

You’ll be okay.

Lu Guang doesn’t know that for sure. He’s actually pretty certain he won’t be. That doesn’t seem like the smart thing to say though. Okay. How was the show?

Terrible. What do you want to know?

Obviously what happened in the episode. Did they break up? What did Chen Mei end up doing?

They did not break up. It’s very stagnant. Why do you watch this again?

They should have. She’s better than him. It’s clear that she’s supposed to be with Kim Huang.

At least he seems to have a preference for the more stable option. It seems pretty evenly tied to me. Besides that, she’s not ‘better’ than either of them. She’s childish and emotionally immature. She shouldn’t be dating anyone, she should be working on herself.

How dare you! Cheng Xiaoshi huffs. She’s just trying to enjoy life because she didn’t get to in her youth. She deserves love just as much as anyone else.

Oh yeah? He pops open a bottle of water. Reminds me of someone.

Hm? Who?

Lu Guang looks smugly at the wall, as if somehow Xiaoshi would be able to tell the expression he’s making from that. Do you want to be romanced by two rich men, Cheng Xiaoshi?

I-No! How dare you!

A woman doth protest too much, you kn- Xiaoshi.

Fu Ren is far too overbearing anyway, she needs to-

Cheng Xiaoshi!

What?

He’s about to walk in.

This time, the kidnapper won’t remove the blindfold until after he’s done with the girl. It’s the same every time after this, and it makes Lu Guang’s gut turn. He wants to get a profile now, so they don’t have to go through them. He’s not sure he could stand seeing Xiaoshi like this again.

More to himself than to Xiaoshi, for once, he says, we can’t change the past.

I know that, Xiaoshi bites.

Their criminal doesn’t waste even a second in undressing his victim. Xiaoshi would be able to fight him off, most likely, but the girl couldn’t. Lu Guang isn’t even really sure that his friend could, with how tightly his arms are bound.

Xiaoshi hisses in pain, and the hiss turns into a groan, and that turns into a mimicry of what his torturer is doing. His face is pressed into the filthy ground, forcing his neck into such an odd angle that it’s a wonder he can even breathe.

Lu Guang wishes they could change places. I’m still here.

I know, more softly.

He can’t see anything, but he can hear it, and he can know it. Xiaoshi is trying not to make any noise, but the pig isn’t. And even he can’t keep quiet when his shoulder nearly pops out of its socket.

Kim Huang left a single flower on her office chair. She knew it wasn’t Fu Ren, because he was never as subtle. She decided to press the flower to preserve it. Lu Guang knows reassurances won’t help. He barely gave a recap, anyway. He notices it when he sees her next. He doesn’t mention it, but they both know they’ve grown closer.

Was it a daisy?

It was. How did you know?

She said it was her favorite flower. Fu Ren never really listened to her in the same way.

Lu Guang pauses. It’s noticing the little things.

It–fuck.

I’m not looking.

You are.

It’s a dry, cold night, where Lu Guang is. Where Cheng Xiaoshi is, the air is sticky and warm. The photo is from several months ago, so it’s not a surprise. It probably means it’s closer to the ocean though.

The woman in the photo is crying. Lu Guang knows better than anyone that he shouldn’t change the past, but it doesn’t mean he never wants to. He walks into the kitchen.

I thought you’d be the type to prefer grand gestures.

Grand gestures usually mean something bad is about to happen. It always has before. The voice transmitted still sounds stable, somehow. It's a contrast to Xiaoshi’s shrieks of pain, and the pigs breath, hitching and growing in intensity.

Nothing big then. Lu Guang doesn’t know Xiaoshi’s favorite flower. Maybe he’ll get a morning glory to put in the windowsill. It’s almost over.

Qiao Ling told them to get an electric kettle at one point. Gave them a whole lecture about it, actually. They both decided that there was no need, but she still brings it up every time she notices. Lu Guang turns the stove to high. The worst part is over, and all of the mugs are clean.

Are you still there?

I wouldn’t leave.

The kidnapper presses a kiss to his victim’s forehead. It makes Lu Guang cringe.

He utters something in a ghastly tone, and starts to remove the blindfold. Xiaoshi’s vision will take a while to clear, but it should be enough time to get a description. The storage unit is nearly empty, plain-looking, and virtually unidentifiable. They won’t be able to use a location.

Even with the blurring, they can tell the man is an ugly creature, a bit shorter than Lu Guang. He coos in a raspy voice, and Xiaoshi thinks he feels as greasy as he sounds. Lu Guang doesn’t want to consider what he means by that.

I just need to see, it’ll be fine. It’s fine. It’s fine. It’s fine.

It keeps repeating in their connection. Lu Guang is fairly sure that Xiaoshi doesn’t want him to hear it, so he keeps quiet. He feels like green tea tonight.

“Your gaze is intense, darling,” Xiaoshi recoils, gagging lightly on the man's acrid breath. “I wonder if it's really you in there.”

That makes Lu Guang pause. Closing his eyes to look more clearly, he wonders if it’s a perceptiveness that draws the man to his question, or if it’s simply the utterings of a madman. Xiaoshi keeps blinking, trying to clear his vision.

He might suspect something, Xiaoshi. Turn away.

But I’m so close! Just-

Cheng Xiaoshi.

Xiaoshi turns away. The pig caresses his cheek, coming to grip the side of Xiaoshi’s face. Lu Guang opens his eyes to the sound of the kettle whistling, turning to grab mugs from the cabinet.

“Now you won’t look at all. What an odd thing to do, hm?”

Lu Guang grits his teeth. He was absolutely certain that the girl originally refused to look at her kidnapper, this shouldn’t fall out of line at all.

“You know, I heard a rumor once, of a girl who could step into photos.” Xiaoshi can’t prevent an inhale. Lu Guang wants to hold it against him, but he too is taken aback. The pig continues, “It’s said that she can step into the past, revive memories long since dead. I didn’t believe it at the time, but I suppose this is proof enough.”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking-”

“You do.”

The past hasn’t changed, that’s the odd thing. Aside from this encounter, everything will continue to play out like it did in the first place. Lu Guang faintly registers another pang in his partner’s cheek. It fades into the distant pain Xiaoshi feels in his entire body.

“Please! I don’t know what’s going on, why are you doing this?” A thrumming in his mind of his own name. Lu Guang responds, he thinks, but it continues. He can’t tell if it’s an auditory hallucination or his friend’s panic. Lu Guang can’t seem to move at all. “Why won’t you let me go?”

“Stop pretending to be her! I know what you are!”

“Agh!” Cheng Xiaoshi cries out, a line of blood drawn on his cheek. Lu Guang can hear his heart in his ears. “Why, please-”

“Shut up! I won’t let you win!”

He juts his fingers into Xiaoshi’s eyes. In an instant, Lu Guang snaps back into reality.

Before he can think, he claps. He wasn’t fast enough, and Xiaoshi’s scream carries into the kitchen. It nearly beats the sound of the mug shattering.

Shit, the mug.

“Get off, there’s glass!” Xiaoshi startles up, blinking in the light. He’s standing on the porcelain shatters – not glass, though it makes no nevermind – but doesn’t seem to notice. His eyes are still cloudy, rapidly filling with tears. Lu Guang yanks him back by the waist, slamming his own back into the counter. “Wrap your legs.”

Cheng Xiaoshi takes a shaky breath, adjusting to his surroundings. There’s clarity in his vision, now, but his voice is still watery. “I’m not going to be carried like a kid.”

“There’s porcelain in your feet,” Lu Guang explains.

“Oh.” He follows Lu Guang’s instructions, and wraps his arms around his neck. He has a tight grip. It feels a bit silly, since Xiaoshi is taller than him, but he’s so much lighter now. Lu Guang really needs to get him to eat more. “I could lift you, you know.”

“I know.”

“I’m not a child.”

“I know.”

“It still hurts.”

“The shards?”

“No.”

Lu Guang presses his lips thin. “I know.” He deposits Xiaoshi onto the couch and pulls off his socks.

“I can do that.”

“No you can’t, your hands are shaking.”

“So are yours.” Lu Guang pauses, and holds a hand up to examine. They are.

“Less than yours.” Xiaoshi seems to agree, reluctantly. “I’ll be calling the chief soon,” he says, pulling out the larger shards. They’re already bleeding. Lu Guang had hoped the socks would prevent that, somewhat. Sighing, he grabs disinfectant wipes and a first aid kit. He hears a sharp inhale before he’s even started cleaning. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

Luckily enough, the porcelain is fairly easy to see, so it doesn’t take long to remove all of it. He wipes off the remaining blood from the floor and plops next to Xiaoshi. He stretches his arms over the back of the couch, intentionally letting his friend choose how close to be.

“We don’t have to talk about what happened.”

“I don’t want to.” He leans cautiously into Lu Guang’s side. He’s warmer than Lu Guang thought he would be, honestly. It didn’t make sense, but he thought that Xiaoshi would be cold.

Lu Guang wraps his arm around him, “Alright.”

His hands are still shaking. Now that it’s been pointed out, he can’t seem to put it out of his mind. “What are we calling the chief about?” Xiaoshi asks softly.

“We’re not going through the rest of the photos.” He startles, whipping his head around to meet Lu Guang’s eyes. “I’m being selfish. I don’t want to see you like that again.”

“You are being selfish! Those women didn’t have a choice, but it happened anyway.”

Lu Guang tightens his arm. “It won’t stop happening just because we catch one man. Besides that, if we go back, he might target Qiao Ling.”

“He–what?” He was right. It is worse when he can actually hear his voice breaking. “Why would he target Qiao Ling?”

“You– hm,” Lu Guang almost asks if he was even paying attention during the dive, but catches himself. “He said he’d heard rumors of a girl who can step into photos. It wouldn’t take him too much digging to find Qiao Ling’s information, and he’d be bound to try to find her.”

Xiaoshi shoots up. “We have to warn her then! And," his eyes dart around, “We need to," he finds the photos, but he pauses, “I don’t know?” He starts to stand, but Lu Guang grips his arm, hard. “What?”

“Your feet.”

He sits back down. “Right. What do we need to do?”

“We can start by informing the police chief that we’re backing out.”

“And what do we do if we don’t do that?”

Lu Guang gazes tiredly at his partner. “I’m not doing that again.”

“Then I’ll do it alone.”

That would be the worst possible idea, in Lu Guang’s opinion. He searches Cheng Xiaoshi’s expression, begging for anything that might indicate he’s just being dramatic, but he doesn’t find it. Something about that makes Lu Guang feel a sort of hopelessness.

He turns towards the photos.

“Well, I’m not letting you do that, I guess.”

Xiaoshi eventually passes out on his shoulder.

Lu Guang doesn’t feel any more rested when he wakes up. What he does feel is an intense crick in his neck, and the morning breath of an idiot. A fitting start to a terrible day.

The third photo is of the open hours of a creperie. It occurs to him for the first time that all of the photos are taken mere minutes before the disappearances take place. He’s willing to pass off the first one as a coincidence, since there’s around a twenty minute period between the two events, but the second onwards draw his concern.

In particular, the fourth seems like a planned event. There isn’t even a slight pause between the photo taken and the syringe. And Lu Guang has the strange feeling he knows why that is.

The fourth is from only a few weeks ago.

He tells Qiao Ling not to go out at night for the next while. She agrees, but asks what led him to say that. “Rising crime rates,” is what he almost says.

“Qiao Ling is coming over.”

Xiaoshi perks up from his phone, “When will she be here?”

He glances out the window. So far, the street is clear. “Eventually.”

In the reflection, Xiaoshi nods.

Qiao Ling demands to know what’s going on. She can actually have quite the presence when she wants to.

”I’m putting you at risk, Qiao Ling,” Xiaoshi starts to explain.

“You?” Qiao Ling glares, bewildered, at Xiaoshi. She eases quickly though. Maybe they look worse off than Lu Guang thought. “What do you mean you’re putting me at risk?”

Xiaoshi pulls the pictures from the table and reviews the case for her. His voice starts to shake at points, but Qiao Ling doesn’t react.

She picks up one of the photos. “Lu Guang.”

He hums.

“Has he been going through what the victims did?” Xiaoshi scooches further into the couch.

Lu Guang sits beside him. “Yeah.”

She nods. “I see.” Her eyes grow weary, and she presses her chin into her palm. “You really should start considering yourself, Xiaoshi.”

Lu Guang shakes his head. “It’s as it is now.”

Qiao Ling sighs. “Yeah, I guess it is.” She wraps Xiaoshi in a loose hug. “Should I stick around here then?”

“Might be better that way,” Lu Guang agrees. He eyes the clock. It’s three thirty. “We’ll be doing another photo in a few hours. Better to eat now, so I’ll just order.”

“I’ll help pay.”

Xiaoshi leans onto his shoulder while they watch the time. Lu Guang has half a mind to lean right back, but he doesn’t.

“Just about time," he whispers.

Xiaoshi holds out his hand, but pauses. Lu Guang catches his gaze, soft and thoughtful. “You’re a lot like Kim Huang.”

He claps. It’s barely a minute before he’s taken.

Lu Guang breathes. It feels like something is restricting him from taking full breaths. Qiao Ling tilts her head. “He really is self-sacrificing, huh?”

“More than that,” Lu Guang drops his head to his fist. “I’m convinced he’s going to get himself killed.”

Qiao Ling moves beside him. “Sorry for yelling the other day. I can see how it would get frustrating.”

“I needed it,” Lu Guang sighs.

“Maybe," she agrees, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Maybe you’re both just hurting. It can’t be easy to listen to it all.”

“I wouldn’t want anyone else to deal with it.”

Qiao Ling tilts forward with a mysterious smile. “Would you want anyone else dealing with Xiaoshi in general?”

He can’t hide anything from her, and he doesn’t bother to try. “No.”

She hums.

Qiao Ling likes the same rom-coms that Xiaoshi does, which Lu Guang finds deeply annoying. Still, he lounges next to her as she pulls it up.

This episode is related to the main character’s backstory. Lu Guang understands why Xiaoshi connects so well with her, and why she would end up with Kim Huang. He still isn’t particularly invested, he’s just trying to ride out the time.

Fu Ren is getting upset with her for being distant, wondering why she isn’t returning her love like he thinks she should. Kim Huang stands up for her, nearly getting up to a yell when trying to defend her, and it causes her to fall into a panic attack. It flashes back to her childhood, getting yelled at by her father while her mother does nothing. Having to reassure her mother afterwards when she wasn’t yet over her father’s actions. Still having to study hard to pass, never gaining any recognition for her achievements.

Fu Ren continues to yell after this, but Kim Huang deflates immediately. His attention falls all on the woman, cupping her cheek lightly, and not saying a word. She eventually starts to nuzzle back, thanking without speaking. It makes him smile. Fu Ren gets called away, still glaring at Kim Huang, who is paying him no mind.

Lu Guang thinks he might actually like this show.

“Hey, Lu Guang?” He hums in acknowledgement, “When did you and Xiaoshi make it official?”

He blinks. “We didn’t.”

Qiao Ling startles. “Huh. I thought you had before the lunch date.”

“No, nothing like that,” Lu Guang says, “I was proving that I wouldn’t leave his side. Through subtlety, I’ll gain his trust," he recognizes how unnecessarily poetic that sounds, but decides not to correct it.

“That’s why he was wearing your sweater?”

“It was," and it’s going to sound stupid, but, “It’s not just about the sweater, to him. Had I not given him the sweater, he’d exaggerate it all. The sweater is proof that I’m not leaving.”

She hums, resting her head on his shoulder, “That sounds like dating to me.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Why not?’

Lu Guang pauses to think, but the answer is obvious.

“Because I need him to be the one to say it, or it won’t count.”

Cheng Xiaoshi is awake.

When is he coming? Is what he asks, before anything else.

P retend to be asleep for a bit longer. He’s already in the room.

Xiaoshi tries not to make a noise, but his distress is clear in the connection.

Qiao Ling notices Lu Guang’s sudden concentration, and asks if Xiaoshi is okay. He isn’t, but he doesn’t say that. In fact, he doesn’t say anything.

It’ll be quick, then you can come home. Lu Guang assures. It’ll be okay.

Yeah, yeah I know, Xiaoshi replies, it’ll be fine.

I’ll be here for you.

I know.

After a breath, Xiaoshi squirms like the victim would have, catching the attention of the pig. He asks if it’s the sorcerer again. Lu Guang tells Qiao Ling about this, making her breath catch. Xiaoshi feigns confused distress, trying to sound as though he doesn’t even know what the sorcerer is.

“Stop being a lying whore!” The pig wraps his hands around Xiaoshi’s neck.

This happened originally as well. I’m sorry. I’m still here.

“Please! Gh–why?” Xiaoshi wheezes, “P-please, stop!”

Lu Guang flinches. It isn’t even his pain, and he flinches. Qiao Ling wraps her arms around his shoulders, whispering assurances.

The pig eventually releases Xiaoshi, who gasps for breath on the acrid cement. It’ll be okay, Lu Guang tries to soothe. Xiaoshi almost stabilizes his breathing when the pig kicks him in the gut, knocking the air out of his lungs.

He pulls Xiaoshi back, kissing him as he begins.

It never gets any easier. Wishing he could look away, Lu Guang starts to relay the episode he and Qiao Ling watched. He has no idea if Xiaoshi had already seen it or not, but it provides a distraction regardless.

Lu Guang? Xiaoshi croaks over the connection.

What is it?

The pig moves too forcefully, making Xiaoshi cry out, and it’s all Lu Guang can do to not get visibly upset about it.

Can you promise me something?

That depends on what it is.

Can you – he makes a noise that Lu Guang hopes he’ll never have to hear again – Can you promise you won’t leave?

I’m still right here.

No, I mean, in general. That you won’t leave me.

The pieces fit together in his mind, and he almost wants to cry. He’d been waiting for those words for too long. I won’t. I don’t ever want to.

Xiaoshi hiccups. Lu Guang fully intends to beat the man half to death when they find him. Can you do one more thing? I’m sorry.

And Lu Guang says something he knows he’d never say to anyone else. Anything.

Don’t ever say you love me.

He wants to ask why, but Xiaoshi’s cries, Qiao Ling’s arms, and his own pulse in his ears stops him, so instead he says; not unless you say it first.

The pig finishes.

He takes a while to breathe, filling the air with his raspy gasps. Qiao Ling tightens, which Lu Guang takes to mean that he has a reaction to this. After a few minutes, their criminal removes the blind, staring into his victims eyes as though searching for something. He seems not to have found it, because he says that this time it’s really just her. Xiaoshi doesn’t reply, only shaking. Still, through blurry vision, it’s the clearest view they’ve had the entire time. Lu Guang counts his lucky stars for that.

As soon as Xiaoshi’s vision completely returns, Lu Guang gets a profile for the victim. He studies the details, trying to burn it into his memory.

Without any warning, he pulls Xiaoshi back. He’s in Qiao Ling’s arms before he even registers that he’s on the floor.

Lu Guang sits behind him, resting a hand on his back as he sobs.

Chief Xiao Li does seem to have a modicum of sympathy, keeping his voice soft during the questioning. Lu Guang still keeps a hand firmly on Xiaoshi’s shoulder.

Xiaoshi seems to go weak under his hand when he sees it. That might also be Lu Guang projecting. The sketch artist captured his likeness perfectly.

“Is this the man who kidnapped those women?”

“Y-yes. That’s him.”

She nods, and slips out of the office. Lu Guang would like to leave as well, but the chief has an air of tension.

He leans toward Lu Guang, speaking in a hushed voice. He asks how far into the photos they had to go to find it. Lu Guang grips his friend’s shoulder tighter. He feels fingers graze across his own. “Not that far.”

“Your words don’t match your reactions,” Lu Guang tries to hold onto the fingers. “This might be enough for us.”

“Will it?” He seethes, loud enough for Xiaoshi to hear. He covers Lu Guang’s hand completely. To Lu Guang’s ire, the chief hesitates.

“I hope so. A name would have been better.” Xiaoshi’s thumb squirrels under his hand. “But I don’t intend to put your friend through more than I have to.”

Lu Guang clenches his jaw.

“I’ll do it again if I need to.”

“You don’t,” Lu Guang bites. “That’s the job of the police.”

“But I might be able to get his name-”

“You don’t need to.”

“Lu Guang.” The world is a cruel place. “I have to.”

“I’m not letting you. We’re not dealing with this case.” Removing one predator would not save the prey. “Thank you for your time officer.”

“Lu Guang!” Trying to rescue everyone is a worthless endeavor. How can everyone be rescued when you are still in pain? “Sir, listen-”

“No-” Xiao Li clears his throat, “What?”

The chief pointedly focuses his gaze on Xiaoshi. “If you do want to continue, there was another photograph we think may be related to the case found this morning.” Lu Guang’s mouth dries. “She was taken by someone on her way home last night, a security camera managed to catch it from a distance.”

“I’m not doing security footage. I wouldn’t be able to see where he goes.”

“Lu Guang…”

He shakes his head. “She took a photo moments before she was knocked out. The phone was left in the parking lot.” The chief reaches into his pocket for a pink flip-phone. It makes a little chime when it’s opened.

When offered, Lu Guang snatches it away.

The photo is from only moments before the abduction, and it’s a selfie, albeit a blurry one. Despite this, Lu Guang can see the man in the back, and it’s just enough to confirm what he already knew. It’s definitely him. She hasn’t woken up yet. Cheng Xiaoshi casts a questioning look. Lu Guang wants to throw the phone out of the window.

His grip on Xiaoshi tightens more. It might leave a bruise. He’ll apologize if it does. “Will you let me talk you out of it?”

“No.”

That decides it then.

“Double the rate. Be glad I’m only asking for that.”

Lu Guang doesn’t let go of his hand the entire way home. He can’t tell if it’s out of affection or righteous fury. He isn’t sure if it matters.

Cheng Xiaoshi wants to start as soon as possible. Lu Guang drags him to the bedroom. The photo was taken at two in the morning, as soon as possible is still sixteen hours away. Qiao Ling is fast asleep on the couch.

“We’ll do it tonight. I’ll set an alarm.” He collapses onto the bed. He should be on the brink of passing out, but he’s too tense. Xiaoshi stands awkwardly, pressing too hard into his toes. “Lay down.”

His eyes widen, but he only sits.

“I said lay down.” He still hesitates. Sighing, Lu Guang scoots closer to the wall and pulls his partner onto his chest. It feels a bit awkward, since Xiaoshi is the taller one.

But Lu Guang is too tired to try to communicate his intentions with words.

He wraps his arms around Xiaoshi, one hand on his back and the other in his hair. Xiaoshi doesn’t breathe for a beat. Lu Guang rubs along his back, hoping it’s comforting somehow. He shudders, arms pressing into Lu Guang’s sides.

“Stop trying to pretend. I can see you.” Xiaoshi’s breath catches. “It’s safe here.”

“Don’t go?”

Lu Guang sighs, “I promised.”

That breaks his resolve almost instantly. He buries his face into Lu Guang’s neck.

Xiaoshi’s breaths break into choking gasps, like he’s still in pain. Lu Guang cards through his hair, staring straight up. He wraps his leg around Xiaoshi’s, trying to cocoon him. In return, Xiaoshi presses closer, gripping at Lu Guang’s shirt.

Xiaoshi might be crushing his chest, but that’s fine. It still pains his heart less than when Lu Guang had to watch him in the photographs. Far less than when he remembers they’ll be doing it again this evening. At least he knows that in this time, he can be a shield.

Being able to protect him from the world is a blessing Lu Guang didn’t think he’d get, a few months ago. Even last night. It’s a thing he doesn’t associate with himself all that often, protectiveness. Not because he views himself as particularly distant, it just doesn’t feel natural for him to care this much.

Maybe it’s supposed to. Maybe to others, it already does.

He thinks that maybe this is what he was supposed to do the whole time.

The all-nighter is quickly catching up with him. He hopes that his arms won’t loosen when he falls asleep.

“NO!”

Lu Guang isn’t sure if it’s the elbow or the shout that wakes him up, but the result is the same. Xiaoshi is thrashing on top of him, and it actually hurts quite a lot. “Cheng Xiaoshi.”

He stills.

Lu Guang feels rather than hears his partner’s watery breaths. They vibrate uncomfortably on the forming bruises. “Cheng Xiaoshi.”

“I’m here.”

“I know you’re here, idiot.” His arms are still mostly folded on top of Xiaoshi. “I’m here too.”

He expects an, “I know,” back. Instead, he gets a sniffle.

“I’m not leaving either.” Xiaoshi chokes. “You’re too heavy. I couldn’t move if I tried.”

That earns him a smack. Lu Guang chooses to consider this a victory.

The setting sky beams into their sunroom.

Lu Guang’s least favorite genre is airing a new episode, and Cheng Xiaoshi has his head on his lap. They have around eight hours until he’ll be entering the photograph.

It’s a different show from last time. Lu Guang doesn’t know how he keeps track of them. All of the actresses have such similar faces that he has a difficult time even telling them apart sometimes. The plots are almost identical as well, in that the female lead is childish and peppy, the male is stoic and cold, and the story seems to insist on trying to convince people that it’s a will-they-won’t-they scenario.

This show is far worse than the last one. Unlike the office show, this man isn’t so much cold with a warm heart as freezing with the occasional hint of basic human empathy. He doesn’t see the appeal.

But Cheng Xiaoshi seems to, and Lu Guang didn’t have any different suggestions.

Xiaoshi makes a strange sort of half-squeal when the male lead brushes his counterpart against the cheek with his fingers. Lu Guang isn’t sure what the big deal is. Xiaoshi says that he just needs to watch the whole show, then he’d get it. Lu Guang says he’d rather eat mold out of the trash. Xiaoshi huffs. Lu Guang says he just has terrible taste in men. Xiaoshi says not to be so self-critical.

Lu Guang wonders what sort of mistake he must have made in a past life to end up in this type of situation. Maybe he was a murderer, or committed great tax fraud. Maybe he committed some sort of war atrocity. Maybe he just married an old billionaire and gradually stole all of their money. He could see himself doing any of those things. Cheng Xiaoshi looks up, suddenly, and brushes his own hand against Lu Guang’s cheek.

Embarrassingly, his thoughts stall. They’re so close already, yet this feels more intimate. Lu Guang isn’t sure how that’s possible. Xiaoshi laughs beneath him.

Feeling mischievous, Lu Guang places a hand on Xiaoshi’s cheek in return. He feels his partner still, which makes him chuckle until he realizes that Xiaoshi isn’t breathing. He starts to move away, but a palm smacks firmly against his own. For all intents and purposes, his hand is now cemented to Cheng Xiaoshi’s face.

He must have terrible taste in men as well.

“Last night. Or this evening, depending on your perspective.” He says to Qiao Ling, when Xiaoshi decides to take a shower.

She stops sipping her boba, blinking slowly. Her eyes light up, and she makes the ‘okay’ symbol with her hand, nodding cryptically.

She’s with them again, waiting. He didn’t want her to be, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer. Xiaoshi’s hand is out, and he’s scrolling through his phone. Something about, “Not wanting to deal with the anticipation.” Lu Guang almost wants to hit him now for making him bear the burden of responsibility for what he’s about to do.

Now, Lu Guang has come to terms with the fact that he’s willing to do strange things for those he loves.

And Lu Guang is absolutely set on making sure this will be the last leap for this case. He’s willing to let his emotions get the better of him about it.

The fact is, the victim would never naturally learn what her kidnappers name is, even if they were able to stick around for longer than twelve hours.

As such, Lu Guang is willing to make some creative adjustments to the rules he lives by. Just this once.

This must be how Xiaoshi feels all the time.

He eyes the watch.

Xiaoshi blinks in his periphery for the first time in several minutes. The seconds count up at an agonizing pace. His hand raises.

He claps.

There’s a click, a shriek, and he’s gone.

Lu Guang exhales.

Five hours. Five hours, twenty-seven minutes, and something like fifty seconds. Forty-five.

He stands, walks to the cafe across the street, and kicks over a table.

Lu Guang?

Qiao Ling was able to calm him down during the hours apart. Somewhat.

I’m here. He isn’t, yet.

She seems to understand.

Lu Guang is pretty sure he’s lost his mind, and he doesn’t really care. He’s defying his own rules today, and he can’t bring himself to give a fuck.

When he does get here, tell him that you’re the sorcerer, Xiaoshi inhales, demand to know his conditions.

…Lu Guang. That’s breaking the rules.

I really don’t care about the rules right now.

Xiaoshi nods, jerkily, when the door starts to open. Are you sure?

I’ve never been more sure of anything.

The shuffling of the pig drafts through the storage unit. Xiaoshi swallows, and sits up. The pig slows. Watching, if Lu Guang had to guess. Xiaoshi lifts himself to his feet.

“Don’t get any closer,” he warns, “You were right. I am the sorcerer.”

The pig shuts the door. “You didn’t show up for the last meeting.”

Say that you’ll come back for every victim until you find out who he is.

Xiaoshi swallows, but says, “I’m here now. I’ll be here for every victim, until I figure out your name.”

Cackling echoes in the room. “What makes you think I’ll give you that?”

Xiaoshi? He grunts in response. Do me a favor and kick him.

Following the sound of his voice, Xiaoshi strides forward and kicks the man down. He yelps, so Xiaoshi continues until he’s solidly on the ground.

Tell him that we already know his face. We know who he is, we just want to know his conditions, so we might get his sentence limited when police inevitably catch him.

“I already know what you look like,” Xiaoshi taunts, testing the ropes on his arms. “The police can figure out who you are. They will find you. Do you really want to be on my bad side when I’m the only thing between you and a death sentence?”

His voice was surprisingly stable, but over the connection, he asks, Are you still here?

I’m not going anywhere. Xiaoshi lifts his chin with a new rush of confidence. The pig is quiet for a few beats, but Lu Guang can see through him. Kick him again, or he’ll get back up.

“Gah!” He shrieks, after a particularly nasty blow. “Fine, fine! But it’s, fuck, hang on.”

Xiaoshi breathes heavily, but backs off.

“This is,” The pig laughs humourlessly, “This is gonna be a fair trade. You get to know everything about me, I at least get to see your face. We’ll meet, in person.”

Absolutely no–

“Alleyway behind the masseuse on 11th street, Beijing. This Thursday, three o’clock.” Across the street from the photoshop, two days from present day, Lu Guang deciphers. “And you should know,” Xiaoshi adds, “I’m not a girl.”

Even in his shambled state, the pig laughs, saying, “I can tell. You don’t got the same mannerisms.”

Lu Guang scoffs, but otherwise doesn’t comment. Qiao Ling looks over curiously.

“I won’t be showing up if there are cops in the area,” The pig says.

“If you don’t show up, you won’t need a death penalty,” Xiaoshi growls, “I’ll just murder you myself.”

The man audibly gulps, and revises his condition. Xiaoshi nods. I’m coming back now.

Lu Guang scooches aside, and Qiao Ling follows, catching on. Xiaoshi claps.

It takes him a moment to process the room, and a moment longer to move his hands from their backheld position. He gives the two of them a very awkward look. Especially Lu Guang.

Taking the initiative, Qiao Ling volunteers to go out to buy dinner, and skips her way out of the room. Xiaoshi collapses into Lu Guang’s arms almost as soon as she does, nearly killing Lu Guang with the sudden pressure to his chest.

They both sleep in the same bed that night, and Qiao Ling takes the top bunk. Xiaoshi doesn’t wake even once.

The next morning, Lu Guang wakes to the sound of Qiao Ling and Xiaoshi jovially preparing breakfast. He has to admit that despite their best efforts to destroy the kitchen, they’ll probably manage to create something better than he could.

One thing that Lu Guang had taken a bit to catch onto was the ability that both Qiao Ling and Xiaoshi have in ignoring situations. It’s a skill that most people have, to some extent, but the two of them have it mastered.

Qiao Ling especially. Where Xiaoshi is able to pretend not to see things, Qiao Ling is able to absolutely erase them from her mind until or unless they become relevant. Complete ignorance of an ongoing event.

Even when Xiaoshi flinches at a touch, she makes no motion as to have noticed. Lu Guang is pretty sure that she would, if she thought it would be helpful, but it wouldn’t be. It would probably just make him uncomfortable.

So she doesn’t stilt, and her act doesn’t dwindle. Lu Guang wonders how much energy it takes to keep up an act for so long.

Along with the rest of the meal, Xiaoshi cooks him scrambled eggs.

The plan is for the next day. Lu Guang is trying to cook a crab, and it smells horrible. Xiaoshi tells him to throw it out and just let him cook.

He makes everyone a basic stir fry with noodles, and turns on the rom-coms again. He and Qiao Ling squeal almost as often as the female protagonist does, but Lu Guang makes the active choice to ignore it. As payment for the good food.

Xiaoshi is a good cook, Lu Guang texts his mother, handing his plate to Qiao Ling.

That’s wonderful, she replies, Because you’re one of the worst ones I’ve ever met.

Lu Guang doesn’t disagree with that.

You’ll live for a while with a good cook. Be sure to watch your weight, your metabolism won’t last forever.

I will. He fills a glass at the tap. By the way, how long do you think Cheng Xiaoshi and I have been dating?

With no hesitation, she responds, You’ve never really said, but I think it’s been about five years. Why do you ask?

Lu Guang nearly throws his phone at the wall.

They all wake up fairly early.

Xiaoshi is pacing, and when he isn’t pacing, he’s sitting restlessly, leg bouncing. Lu Guang lounges beside him, arms crossed. There’s a lot on his mind, but that isn’t particularly unusual. It isn’t all relevant to the plan for the afternoon, he’d been able to map that out during a walk last night.

Actually, it’s about a vacation plan. He’d been impulsive when doubling the rate, but that left them with a solid sum. More than enough to take a month off of work, go on a trip, and still have some left to put into savings.

“You know, there’s an overnight train that passes through the mountains. The station is about an hour away, and open to reservations.” Xiaoshi flicks his gaze over. “Don’t suppose you were planning on putting the entire rate into savings?”

He gets a contemplative expression, and a shake of the head. “Have you ever been through the mountains before?”

“I don’t generally do anything that requires me to go out into the cold on purpose,” Lu Guang replies honestly.

Xiaoshi looks amused by that. “You’re a lazy man.”

“Mm,” Lu Guang says, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. “I prefer to be comfortable whenever possible, and there’s nothing wrong with that. Danger seeking is for adrenaline junkies.”

“I guess so.”

“It’s unnecessary,” Lu Guang continues, “I’m already content, so I have no reason to try to make changes.”

He leans his head back to relax, but not before catching Xiaoshi looking aside. “Well,” Xiaoshi sounds uncertain, “What if I wanted to make a change? Would you come with me?”

Not a question worth opening his eyes for. “What sort of change?”

“It’s like,” Xiaoshi hesitates, “It’s a hypothetical.”

“It’s a stupid hypothetical, no other sane person would ever buy this building. We’re better off just staying here.”

With a bark of laughter, Xiaoshi smacks him. “Don’t go insulting the photo shop, bastard!”

The view from the windowsill isn’t all that clear, but Lu Guang had been willing to accept that until the police sent him a photo to enter a nearby security camera. It limits communication, but communication was limited to begin with.

For how intense he thought this afternoon would be, it’s actually pretty boring. Cheng Xiaoshi has been leaning against a brick wall on his phone for the better part of an hour, patiently waiting for the culprit to arrive. Every once in a while, he’ll shoot a text to ask if he’s anywhere nearby.

Until 3:22, the answer had been no.

Xiaoshi freezes when he catches sight, which is enough to convince Lu Guang even before he enters the frame. He stands up straighter, trying to look casual, but it doesn’t fool Lu Guang and he’s certain it doesn’t fool the pig either. He texts the chief, and sets his phone aside.

Demand his name, Lu Guang thinks, on impulse, before remembering that Xiaoshi can’t actually hear him. Gulping, he watches carefully, hoping that there’s something he can gleen from it all. Qiao Ling sets up next to him, watching from the window.

“What do you think he’s saying?” She asks, sipping her boba.

“Dunno,” Lu Guang admits. “Bet he’s talking about your bad fashion choices.”

Qiao Ling hums softly, choosing to play along with his transparent attempt at a normal conversation. “He doesn’t have any room to talk, look at that shirt. Greasy bitch.”

“Oily.”

“Covered in slime.”

Xiaoshi doesn’t actually say all that much. It’s just as well, with the police on route. Maybe his growing shock will help them, in a way. “Xiaoshi described him like that.”

“As covered in slime?” He doesn’t respond. Qiao Ling glances at him, then back through the window. “Well, he is.”

The man presses further into Xiaoshi’s space, and something seems to snap. In a sudden motion, Xiaoshi kicks the man away, turning to the camera above. In the very periphery, Lu Guang can see the sheen of a blade.

Before he can think about what he’s doing, Lu Guang is out the door, sprinting across the street. The man takes a jab at Xiaoshi, ripping through his sleeve to the skin. Xiaoshi tries to block the next attack, but the pig manages to slit down his palm, making him jerk back.

Lu Guang leaps onto the man's side, throwing him onto the floor. With a hatred he didn’t know he had, he slams his foot into the pigs arm, kicking away the knife when it’s left loose. He’s pretty sure he hears Xiaoshi call his name, but he isn’t really listening.

The man tries to pull back up, so Lu Guang forces him back down, barely restraining himself from grabbing around the neck. He instead resorts to kicking his legs until he hears a snap, and convincing himself that this’ll keep him down.

He presses his face to the pigs ear, whispering lowly, “You’d better be glad that we still need a location, or you’d be dead on the floor right now.”

The pig shrieks, matching the sound of the sirens approaching.

Lu Guang backs off, stumbling lightly onto his feet. Xiaoshi is at his side as soon as he’s risen, hands either trying to hold him upright, or trying to create a sense of stability for Xiaoshi alone. Lu Guang glances to the cars approaching.

“Think I should get his wallet?” Xiaoshi asks quietly.

“No,” Lu Guang turns them around. “Police will get that. Let them get your arm too.”

Xiaoshi jerks his gaze to his arm, as though he’d forgotten about the injury entirely. A remarkable feat, given the blood loss. Lu Guang thinks it’s rather concerning that someone could forget that.

“You should sit down.” Xiaoshi nods, but doesn’t do so. Instead, he grips Lu Guang’s arm tighter, as though that’ll work just as well as sitting would.

The police vehicles pull up, rapidly unloading several arresting officers and paramedics, each taking in their respective focuses. The police ask quick questions to Lu Guang, which he vaguely notices that he’s answering, while Xiaoshi’s arm is quickly disinfected and bandaged.

The pig is half-walked, half-dragged to the caboose, handcuffs partially cutting circulation to his hands. His bruises don’t show yet, but Lu Guang is certain that he’ll be sunset-colored the next day.

It doesn’t feel like enough. A man with lives on his hands, who stole away people who didn’t deserve it, who never did, and all he has to pay for it are those injuries that hardly compare to what his victims endured.

Hell, what Xiaoshi endured.

Lu Guang hopes – no, prays, that the pig will face the retribution that he deserves, and the suffering that ought to come his way before the death sentence passes, and it’s final.

Lu Guang wishes he could be the one to inflict it, but a hand reaches into his own. Without even looking, he knows that it’s Xiaoshi, and holds his back.

With the name of the pig, they’re able to find the storage container the victims were brought to. Xiaoshi wants to go with them to rescue the last victim, so Lu Guang tags along. He doesn’t even try to argue, he wants to see her as well. Qiao Ling says she’ll wait at home.

The pig had the key in his pocket, so the police had it in custody on arrival. Inside the musty room, the girl from the last photo lies injured, but alive. She starts to cry in relief when the police offer her a blanket.

It’s a surreal experience for Lu Guang to see her in person. He gets so used to the mind view that it can be disconcerting to see that it’s contents contain real people, in real situations.

Xiaoshi grasps his hand, trying to stand stable. Lu Guang holds it tight.

“It’s alright,” he whispers to Xiaoshi, “It’s over now.”

The grip doesn’t loosen, but Xiaoshi nods. The chief kneels beside the victim, and begins to tell her about the pig being caught and persecuted. He asks if she can walk to the ambulance, or if they’ll need to bring a stretcher.

“I-I think I’ll be okay,” She tries her legs. “Yeah, yeah I can walk. Thank you.”

The chief nods, and steps aside, pointing towards the vehicle. On the way out, she catches sight of the duo, and pauses. “Who are they?”

Lu Guang glances around. The other police are out of ear shot, so he turns to Xiaoshi. “You want her to know?”

Xiaoshi startles, and gives him a look that seems more like a question. Lu Guang nods. After a beat, he turns back to the girl. “Just investigators with a vendetta. People like him need to rot in hell.”

The girl nods with a small smile. “Yeah. Thank you.”

By the time they get home, the exhaustion from the day has fully caught up to them. Xiaoshi collapses on top of Lu Guang once more, saying he doesn’t want to get up for a year. Lu Guang “mm”s in response, saying that if he wants to sleep for a year, he should change into more comfortable clothes. Xiaoshi reluctantly agrees, changing into sweatpants before once more dissolving into the bed.

Lu Guang climbs on top of him, resting his head on Xiaoshi’s chest and getting their legs tangled together.

Xiaoshi kisses the top of Lu Guang’s head.

“I’m never letting you do that again," Lu Guang says, tightening his arms, “Don’t ever do that.”

Xiaoshi yawns. “Just stay here with you?”

“If that’s what’ll keep you safe.”

Xiaoshi exhales. He has a tendency to grab at shirts. “Since you promised.”

“Just so you know,” Qiao Ling says, the following morning. “Missions are banned. For the next two weeks. And actually, you should be glad that I’m not banning them for longer.”

Lu Guang wouldn’t even want to argue with that, and to his immense relief, Xiaoshi doesn’t seem to either. Qiao Ling gives them a firm nod, and goes out for a morning run.

Lu Guang can’t decide whether he wants to eat, think about the previous day, or scream in the street, so he decides to focus on Xiaoshi, who has decided to spend his early hours staring into the middle distance.

After noticing, Xiaoshi exhales. “It still hurts, no matter how much I think it shouldn’t.”

Lu Guang rests against the counter. “The last week, or…”

He shakes his head. “It always has, it just keeps getting worse. No matter what I do, it keeps getting worse.”

“It’s bound to.” Admittedly, Lu Guang is pretty happy that he’s actually admitting that. Channeling his father’s quiet determination, he says, “One of these days, I’ll convince you that you shouldn’t blame yourself for all of this. I don’t care how long it takes.”

Xiaoshi’s mouth quirks. “I think that’ll be a hard thing to do.”

“I’ll have time.”

Lu Guang is being forced to watch another drama. He knows that he’s going to be doing this for most of the rest of his time alive, and thinks that it might be the worst part of it. It’s what he gets for finding someone so stubborn.

They’re planning to continue working with the chief, but he seems to have gotten the message about where the line is. Lu Guang decides that’s good enough for him, and tries not to think too hard about how much work it took to get them there.

He wonders if the neighbors think they’re involved with money laundering. A part of him wonders that too. That might actually make more sense than what he’s actually doing. And it would be easier to explain.

The main woman in this show — identical to every other one, in Lu Guang’s opinion — lets out a shriek when the male lead taps her on the shoulder. Lu Guang would swear he’s heard it before, and he’s certain he’ll hear it again.

He wonders how long the next sixty years of his life will feel, at this rate. He decides, “agonizingly,” would be a good way to put it. But he doesn’t want to change that. Unexplainably, there’s nothing he wants to change.

Xiaoshi waters the morning glory in the windowsill.

There is one thing he’d like to change.

“Do you think we should hire a personal chef?”

“What? I can cook, you know.”

“You want to cook twice a day, every day, for the rest of your life?”

“...How much do they cost?”