ARCHIVE OF DIXING | English 镇魂 Guardian Fanworks Directory

Had absolutely all the sacrifices really been necessary?
As Lin Jing walked the path ahead, perhaps the answers he didn't expect were exactly the ones he needed to find. Fake monk or not, he believed what he believed, and redemption was not a negotiable commodity. Sometimes all it took was a hand to reach out and change the course of everything.
That sense of unfairness had seeped into him.
...
Gui Mian sat up, resting his head in his hands and he tried to settle his breathing. Months of nights that were often filled with nightmares were taking its toll. Something needed to change. There was only one thing that he could think of that would calm him. He needed to see Lin Jing again.

Now, with Shen Wei fired like an arrow straight into his heart and stuck there, he’s slowly trying to be better. Because Shen Wei is tidy as a rabbit that carefully grooms its face and whiskers, and proud as a bower bird that constructs and keeps a perfect home for its mate. Zhao Yunlan is only capable of buying a house – which he does – but making it a home... Well. It’s a work in progress. He’s had a lifetime to dig in happily to his slovenly ways. Excavating himself isn’t so easy.

Or: Five times Zhao Yunlan learned to enjoy the little pleasures of a home.

If Shen Wei had any regrets about that little human life he had built for himself in Longcheng as a university professor, he certainly hid it from himself most of the time. On nights like that, where the incessant rain and dense mist made the air even colder and the streets even quieter, it was somehow difficult not to think about what had once been.
This night was just like many nights before, where Wu Xie wandered the streets, uncaring of the rain that slowly seeped through his clothes. Hoping just maybe it could sink all the way into his soul.
...
When two men that should be strangers reunite on the rainy streets of Longcheng, an uncertain present and an intense past intertwine.
…
At the exhibition, Zhao Yunlan gazed intently at the arts before him, the snow-capped mountains, the ethereal landscapes, the birds on branches, the peonies and koi.
The huge green tree with strong roots. The blossoming plum tree.
It was as if those images were photographs of things he had seen a long time ago, and that still remained vivid in his memory.
He needed to see the artist.

“Shen-laoshi is an expert with a knife,” she murmurs, appreciatively. Shen Wei slowly puts it down, balancing it on its side beside the cut of beef. “Believe me, I know good knifework when I see it.” The smirk is audible in her voice.

“You’re a little close, Zhao-chuzhang,” says Shen Wei, in a low voice.

“Really? I thought this was a hands-on experience.” Still, she slips her arms from Shen Wei’s shoulders and steps back, leaving just a hint of fragrance behind. “Please, laoshi. Tell us more about meat.”

"You know," Zhao Yunlan spoke with enough emphasis to break through Lin Jing's focus as he approached the man's desk, "there's just so much about you that makes you such a fake monk. Like, a lot." As their boss goes on, the self-satisfied grin on his face only grew.
Lin Jing looked away from his monitor slowly, turning his head to the side just enough to side eye the other. "Excuse me?" he asked, despite clearly having heard the words based on the offended tone.
"You, Fake Monk," Zhao Yunlan continued, not dissuaded by the nonverbal warning he was being given. "Like there's the usual stuff, right?" He leaned his hip against the edge of Lin Jing's desk as he invaded the man's personal space with the look of a predator. Despite the years of being a ghost, Wang Zheng knew that in this moment, Lin Jing was the man's prey even if he didn't realize it yet. "Like eating meat and drinking. But there's more to it, too. Like really, really obvious stuff.
---
Zhao Yunlan came up with what he thought was a very clever line on a slow, boring day at SID and was eager to subject Lin Jing to it... Unfortunately, things don't go exactly how he expected.