ARCHIVE OF DIXING | English 镇魂 Guardian Fanworks Directory

Shen Wei liked the color green. It came in many different shades and blanketed him and his cottage in a vibrant mirage that he would never tire of seeing day after day. He knew the parrot green of the plants he added to his stews, the forest green of the ones he used to make medications, and the olive green he knew to avoid in the poisonous stems. 

It was this discernment of green that led him to realize there were discordant tones in the plants by the river. They had congealed splotches of dark red on them, and seemed to be emitting a strange, pungent odor. Shen Wei took out his dagger and walked slowly towards the plants, preparing to see a large animal of some sort. 

What he saw instead was a man.

Or: Shen Wei finds an injured man by his home and decides to take him in, not being able to fortell all the differences it will bring into his life.

“Shen-laoshi really knows how to play you like a piano,” says Da Qing, lying in Zhao Yunlan’s lap and pawing absently at the line of yarn as it’s tugged and twined around the needles.

“You’re so full of shit,” replies Zhao Yunlan. The cat snorts, a surprisingly human sound.

“Am I? Look at him – attended one meeting and immediately pinpointed your failing. And took steps to correct it, to your benefit. You’d never even consider taking up something so ridiculous otherwise – but if Shen-laoshi gave it to you? You’d do exactly what you’re doing, treasuring it.”

Zhao Yunlan looks down at his work. It’s just a long, rectangular strip of stitches, more regular in size and tension near the needles than at the start. “I’m not treasuring anything. It’s just convenient.”

If Heipaoshi would not outright ask for a seat at the table, then by god, Zhao Yunlan was going to pull the fucking chair out himself. There was only the matter of paws and not apposable thumbs standing in his way. But then, he’d never of made Chief of the SID if he wasn’t adaptable.

"How come you never do the laundry?" Ye Zun asks, frustration palpable in the way the freshly dried and folded clothes float down to form a pile.

“How do we stop it?”

“Abilities like this aren’t permanent. Either it will wear off in time, or…”

Kunlun looks at him, eyes sharp. “Or?”

Shen Wei forces himself not to look away. Not to drop his gaze like a boy, like a coward. “Or when it has run its course,” he says.

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.

Will the light hold on? Will it stay? He didn't want the dark to come just yet. He wanted the sky to shine more. He wanted to tuck away that last light to some place only he knew of.

Them in evening and rain with things left unsaid.

Back in the future, in the world where Shen Wei is wrapped with mysteries – which are rapidly unravelling, now – Shen Wei is so hungry for his touches. For every pat, every nudge, every palm on his shoulder or knee to his knee.

This man, though, behaves like no one has ever touched him. When Zhao Yunlan reaches for him he leans away, wide-eyed and reticent. Not afraid, he thinks. Shen Wei must know how strong he is, all the powers at his command. But – unfamiliar. Almost like a feral cat, who doesn’t know how to trust, much less how to enjoy.

“Two!” says Zhao Yunlan, inanely, looking from the dicks to Shen Wei’s face and seeing guarded uncertainty there. He takes control of himself, suppressing his playful instincts. “Xiao Wei, either take off those pants or put them on, but don’t just – stand there, like you want me to conduct an exam. I never want to see you take off your clothes again as if you expect me to judge you. I’ll never do that. I don’t need to see any part of you I haven’t seen to know that I love it just as much as I love you.”

He probably would have hit the floor ass-first if it weren’t for Shen Wei, looming up out of nowhere. Like a dog that inexorably turns to face its master, Shen Wei always seems to know when he’s about to arrive. So instead he face-plants against Shen Wei’s chest, miserable, hurting, and lets Shen Wei catch him. Which he does with alacrity, arms around Zhao Yunlan’s shoulders and waist, holding him up for a moment before slowly lowering him to the ground.

Or: Following the tense resolution of a case involving SID members' kidnappings, Zhao Yunlan deals with the fall-out. Fortunately he has Shen Wei there to help.

Hei Pao Shi, though. He is firm, blunt, and commanding, where Shen Wei is polite and flexible. He says very little, but he openly displays abilities capable of levelling buildings and tearing apart streets. He smells of frost and ozone, and he blends into the heart of thunderstorms like he’s some elder god, like he was birthed from the chaos and now holds it in his hands.

Zhao Yunlan wants him.

Or: Zhao Yunlan discovers that Hei Pao Shi is a traditionalist.

Just few more days, Zhao Yunlan thought as he swept the back of his wrist harshly against his face. Maybe just in few days, he could meet him again.

AKA Zhao Yunlan grieving.

Shen Wei sighed.

Just ten more minutes, then he would drag Zhao Yunlan to sleep properly in bed.

But till then, he wanted to just stay like this.

 ..

AKA Shen Wei finds Zhao Yunlan nodding off on couch again and instead of just watching him from a distance, he lets himself be close.

“Is that really wise? The omnipotent Hei Pao Shi, stuff of nightmares and legend, taking a mortal lover? Especially a defenseless, naïve, principled professor? Have you considered the risk to him? You have no natural weaknesses – but your attention makes him one. It makes him a target.”

Or: Zhao Yunlan comes to a unique conclusion while trying to puzzle out the relationship between Shen Wei and the Envoy.

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.

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.

“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.