ARCHIVE OF DIXING | English 镇魂 Guardian Fanworks Directory

There is nothing Shen Wei wouldn't do to free Zhao Yunlan.

Podfic of my story Carte Blanche.

Five times Zhao Yunlan tried to forget Shen Wei and one time he didn't~

Da Qing watches as Shen Wei and Zhao Yunlan argue, and then make up. It's a familiar routine.

“You can kill him for all I care,” Zhao Yunlan’s voice loud in the otherwise empty warehouse. They had followed the culprit here, after he had dragged them all across town in a cat and mouse game even Zhao Yunlan had to commend him for. Now he had Shen Wei by his neck in one hand, a gun in the other, pointedly pressed against Shen Wei’s temple.

Li Qian isn't exactly nervous about her upcoming meeting with the Dixing scholar group, but she has a sense of vague dread about the whole thing.

Ma Gui commissions a blacksmith to make the Hallows from meteor material based on plans he found in Dixing.

“Long-ge,” Bai Yu says slowly, choosing his words with care. “What. The hell. Is that?”

Podfic of bonibaru's story Take the Wheel

The zombie apocalypse doesn't end all at once. Zhao Yunlan and Shen Wei are still learning how to cope with it — and how to live with one another.

A post-fic bonus that takes place a few months after the end of All-Consuming.

An all-expenses paid trip to Europe courtesy of his sponsors, the chance to work with his idol Zhu Yilong, and best of all, finally meeting his long-time fan and good friend Torch Dragon in-person - this year's championship series was going to be amazing.

Bai Yu find a little rabbit that he take care

No shield that will admit his brother will keep Ye Zun out, so Ye Zun goes to steal the Hallows.

Everyone moves on, except him. For how can he move on when he is the only one pinning for the memories who was supposedly erased from the beginning?

Zhao Yunlan studied Shen Wei's face in the flashlight's reflected glow. "Just how high are you right now?"

Shen Wei blinked. "We're quite deep underground," he pointed out.

Kisses exchanged in the dark are somehow more potent.. or so Zhao Yunlan thinks..

A face hovered not far from his. It was a handsome face, a boy about his age. He wore a leather jacket and a thin black t-shirt that said in bold white letters, Musicians Duet Better. His jeans were a light, washed-out blue, and had holes in them. There was the hint of a mustache and beard on his upper lip and at the edge of his jaw.

Shen Wei pulled his hand back - the rest of the shirt had a somewhat suggestive cartoon image of a violin and a cello - and dropped his eyes.

“My name’s Zhao Yunlan,” said the boy easily, “What’s yours?”

It’s an illusion of control, he knows it; nothing but a flimsy delusion of choice. But it’s also the only thing Zhao Yunlan has left to grasp, so he takes it.