A Heart of Hope

Sometimes in life, taking five minutes away from chaos to just breathe, is the only way to survive, the battles you face.

Zhao Yunlan knew this rule well. The tough cases, the ones that feel as though they slipping through your fingers, all the facts conflicting, the pieces so disparate they could never make a whole and yet at the heart of it, someone was dead, ripped from life by violence.

You had to take a moment, review every shard and map out the events, that led to that horrific final moment, in the life of the victim that you now stand for.

This was not a murder case. This was life ten thousand years ago, an impossibility that he was now living.

It had been three days, since he had been forced to confront Ye Zun, nearly dying and then being thrown through a wormhole, only to crash into a politically shifting landscape, in a time when Shen Wei was a young man.

If that was not mind-bending enough, the game now was very different. Someone had to play the role of Kunlun, the Master of Da Huang Mountain. A dead man that had a pivotal role in the war, so that they had a chance to keep the fracturing Allies, of the Yashou, Dixing and general everyday Haixing warriors, going long enough to win peace.

Naturally, the problems lay in the fact, that each party was made up of tribes, former traitors, former rebels, former warring clans and displaced people, with one common goal and zero common ground.

Kunlun was the champion that was meant to help hold it together. Before his death, the 'Master of the Mountains' as many called him, was a hero who took down a large number of rebels for daring to come into his lands. How he was suppose to be the new champion was anyone's guess, but Chief Zhao Yunlan was facing the prospect of doing just that, somehow in the growing discontent of the Allies with name of hero.

Basically, Kunlun seemed to be running a triad and like any crime boss, he took the idea of competition, about as well as having chili pepper in his eye.

He had met many of the same type in his career and they always made damn sure that their reputation, carried as far and wide as possible. So, half of the stories were outright lies and the rest, were probably true. It was also apparent that the people of the Da Huang area were paying protection money, for the great Kunlun to save them. The Allies traded with these people and used their healers as part of a deal.

The numbing part was that Shen Wei, of all people, suffered from a bad case of hero-worship. He had clearly sat around too many fires, listening to wild stories, of Kunlun's bravery, his genius and apparently, his great beauty too. As he shared a near identical face, he found that the last point was by far the best. He had always known he was good looking and had used that shamelessly enough, for his love life and for his career, but to know that Shen Wei was nursing a crush on a man that could have been his twin, was just to good to be true.

He huffed a laugh into the near silent air.

Lord Mai Gui and Lady Fu Yu were clever certainly. Kunlun had met them many times and his loss had dealt them a terrible blow, but very few people knew what Kunlun actually looked like. His closest people had died with him and the rest were just relieved to know that the man was still alive, to really look closely. Typical for a crime boss too, in the way he was paranoid and not the kind of man you asked too many questions about.

Shen Wei hero-worshiped a crime boss.

He didn't blame him. In his situation, people like Kunlun were always hailed as heroes. They brought their men home, won successful campaigns against the enemy and looked good doing it. The same reason why kids joined triads in the first place.

Zhao Yunlan took another long breath, kneeling by the banks of a shallow river, that he presumed in the future would be nothing more than dried up river bed. In his hands he was holding a dao, owned by Kunlun's favorite lieutenant.

He knew next to nothing about blades really, but he had learned a few things about them. To prepare for his first big undercover job, he had gone to a martial arts master and brushed up on his skills with knives. The old man had been a collector and they had talked about the weapons of old. His mind had retained the information and had used it with great success, during his role, deep within the triad, they were investigating.

The heavy blade in his hands, was one with an inserted hardened edge, called qiangang, with an steep curve and up-sweeping tip, with the characters 'Mǎ dào chéng gōng' badly inscribed along the blade. The hilt was elm wood and iron, stained with blood, the edge chipped and thin in places. There was nothing grand about the blade, it wasn't one that they would have used on a historical drama, nor was it the intricate beauty of the Dixing weapons. But it was clearly well used. It was difficult holding the blade of a known killer, when your'e a cop pretending to be a crime boss.

Shen Wei would have be proud that his sense of justice was still intact, even in this predicament.

For three days he had been collecting information, gathering all the pertinent bits about Kunlun, the stories and the facts hidden within those rehearsed lines. So, far the act had been convincing.

His co-conspirators, Lord Mai Gui and Lady Fu Yu had been a little shocked when he had, after listening to the speeches and reports of everyone else, put forward solid proposals, with solutions that they could actually use. Shen Wei had looked at him like he was truly living up to those stories, which was as difficult to accept, as it was a thing of pride.

He finally understood what Shen Wei's students must feel, when they live up to his high expectations and deliver something that he might praise them for. It was addictive and he couldn't help but bask in the warmth of knowing that Shen Wei, even when they were little more than strangers, would back his ideas.

Not thinking for a moment about what he was doing, he had joined in, wanting nothing more than to ease the worry tightening Shen Wei's shoulders, the grief in the set of his mouth. Those eyes could convey a thousand emotions, when they looked at you or nothing at all, a blank, polite mask as real as the one he wore to hide his face, but when he looked at Yunlan, thought about his plan, that mask couldn't hide the enthusiasm in those beautiful depths.

He should be worrying about that, the war and the plans he had put forward, but he couldn't, not when he was holding a killer's blade by the water's edge. Not when his words had helped Shen Wei, could save him and keep him alive, because this war had condemned many to a fate worse than death and his man was on the front lines.

He was too busy worrying about what this meant. How far did he take this? What did he do ten thousand years ago to win Shen Wei's heart? His devotion and his loyalty?

Da Qing was easier in some ways. He knew that cat, as only a cat owner could. He had after all, befriended him as a child of ten years old, grieving and angry with the world. Of course he hadn't known that the beautiful black cat, injured and starving on the street, was in fact a Yashou, but he had been determined to earn his trust. What he had gained instead of simply a pet cat, was a friend and brother that he knew would stand by him until the very end.

It hurt his heart to see him much the same. Thin and wounded, looking at everyone with suspicion, always alone and clearly struggling. So he had done the same as he had back then, inserting himself into Da Qing's airspace as much as possible and slowly won him over with food, a blanket and easy talk. He knew what Da Qing valued, what made him laugh and all the boundaries he would set in the future, the foundations of a lifetime built already in a few days.

He knew it had worked when he had woken beside the warm, little ball of black fur, pressed into his rib-cage. Tears had pricked his eyes thinking of his cat back home. It was torture to think of him hurt or worse dead, in his 'normal' time, where he couldn't help him, so he had stroked his ears gently, listening to that rumbling purr, trying to focus on the now.

That had been the only good thing that happened this morning.

Da Qing had been hit by the leader of a clan, in direct competition with Kunlun, trying and succeeding in starting a fight.

He had tried to calm tensions but hurting his cat had crossed a line, followed by the declaration that he would rape Da Qing in front of him. By the time the crowd had gathered to watch, he had expended his rage, and all the fear and pain about his team. Resulting in fifteen unconscious bodies and a knife fight between him and the hulking brute called Zhang. Not paying any attention to the crowd, he had executed some of his best moves, breaking bone and eventually sending the idiot to the ground, out cold.

His foot still on the idiot's neck he had looked up and demanded, "Anyone else?"

Shen Wei had looked shocked and had blinked at him with wide eye wonder. Mai Gui had demanded explanation, forgetting the meaning of the word 'cop' that he had explained so carefully.

"If you were to beaten and raped, I would do the same for you." Was all he had said, moving past them to collect his injured cat, now looking at Yunlan like he was something alien. That was normal, so he ignored it and hauled him to his feet, brushing dirt off his hair.

Then he had met with Mai Gui and negotiated the terms of this ruse, with anger still burning in his bones.

He would do this, pretend to be Kunlun and bring about the end of the war, which was an near impossible feat, he could see that, the hope and cynicism in those tired eyes. In return, they would help him find a way to stabilize Shen Wei or better yet, send him back into the time stream, to a point, before Shen Wei chose to share his life force.

His man would live and together they would defeat Ye Zun, with Shen Wei still at the height of his power.

This was pure hope and Zhao Yunlan was determined to put everything into making this work. He would do this for Shen Wei, both of the present and the past.

He pulled his legs out from underneath him and moved to sit on a rock in front of the river.

The way to win a war that was to everyone else unwinnable, was to change the way the game was played. The rebels functioned less as a terrorist group and more like the triads.

There are after all two types of triad. 'Dark Forces' the loosely-organized gangs and 'Black Societies" the multi-generational criminal organizations. There were many differences, as any enforcer would tell you, distinguishing a black society from a dark force. But the mains ones were the amount of illegal control over local markets, and receiving police protection.

There was no police force ten thousand years ago, but the bigger clans were clearly giving out protection to a select few, selling arms and food to some but but not others. The more empowered ones had control over vast areas, mimicking kingdoms while the local gangs were joining the more powerful Dixing rebels for protection.

He huffed a laugh. He was cop not a General. The only way to break something like this was to destroy it from the inside, but an undercover job within the Dixing rebels was out of the question.

So, what to do?

He was disturbed from his churning thoughts, by the appearance of Shen Wei. His stunning beauty, easy grace and those heartfelt eyes as deep and rich as Yinchen wood, always made him stare, as if his mind was double checking that this gorgeous man was real, not just the man that haunted his dreams.

His Shen Wei entered a room, with purpose and smooth confidence evident in every stride. This Shen Wei, so young and burdened, walked towards him with hesitancy in his steps, as if certain he wasn't truly welcome. His heart already hurting, couldn't bear the sight of that nearly hidden indecision, so unlike his Wei. He missed Shen Wei so much, it physically hurt and yet he was here with him. So he smiled warmly and patted the expanse of rock beside him, in open, unequivocal invitation.

Those eyes seemed to sparkle in the sunlight, his response a happy smile and for a moment he was reminded of the day they found Sang Zan. The sunlight bouncing off the water and the tree leaves, making his hair shine as he came closer, stealing all breath from his lungs.

Oh that long hair. How he longed to touch it, run his fingers through the heavy weight of those glossy strands, breathe in his scent as he...

Get a hold on yourself. Still smiling, he turned back to the water, reminding himself that scarring Shen Wei for life was not the plan here. Just because his Shen Wei would happily lie against his chest for hours, Yunlan's hand stroking his soft hair, his fingers rubbing his scalp in a soothing massage, did not mean that this younger version was ready for that experience.

After half a minute or so, the deceptively lithe body of his future husband settled onto the rock beside him, elegant hands plucking at the cloth of his black robes, smoothing the fabric so it lay neatly. The clean, fresh scents of winter and the bite of a autumn storm, enveloped his eager senses, the feeling of home like a bird landing in its nest.

It occurred to him that usually the only time he was close to Shen Wei in his formal black robes, was in the office of SID and of late, he hadn't bothered to dress as the Envoy, when the team was already aware of his identity. He had never had the opportunity to really touch him, as the Envoy, keeping himself so remote in that form, a clear division between Shen Wei and the Envoy. So, having him sit here, feeling the press of his toned arm though the folds of the heavy cloth was a new heady experience.

"I am sorry for your loss."

The words were formal and evidently rehearsed, but they were as always, sincere. It made him smile again. Shen Wei had come here, braving rejection to offer him comfort. He was reminded of the time Shen Wei had come to find him, disturbed by the way he was sitting on park bench, quietly grieving an old friend, recently murdered on the job. He sat down beside him, perhaps thinking of this very moment and tried to offer comfort and his immeasurable support.

He took a chance and reached out, patting Shen Wei's knee gently. He wasn't of course, grieving for the lieutenant, he hadn't known the man and was doubtful he was anything more than stone-cold killer from what he had heard, but in Shen Wei's voice was the pain of loss and old guilt. His man had buried too many men and women, that fought with and ultimately died beside him, under his command.

"My father and I have many differences." He began, choosing his words carefully. It was true, but his father for all his terrible mistakes, possessed a wisdom that was profound, when he used it. Some of what he had taught his son, had been good, solid lessons in life that he had used, sometimes begrudgingly, to survive the career he had chosen.

"He told me once, to make my losses count for something. For the death I mourn to count for something greater."

He had been talking about failure at the time, teaching his headstrong son that failure only meant doing better next time, by learning where you went wrong. But, he could make it work for this occasion too.

Shen Wei always listened to him intently, even when he was pretending otherwise, or occupied with something vastly more important, but the young version beside him was hanging on to his every word, those dark eyes beguiling and more than little lost.

This was still his assertive, domineering Shen Wei, the warrior and truly one of the bravest souls, but here he was also a young man, fighting prejudice, internal conflict and too many losses. A hopeless war that loomed large and claimed many, with no clear end and empty promises. It was wearing on him and it made Yunlan wonder where his indomitable faith had grown from, letting him become the steadfast, legendary figure of Dixing.

"Then we will make his loss count." He said, in that calm, strong voice, holding hope and worry in his tone, but eyes spoke of conviction.

He thought of his Shen Wei and the fire that he was famous for, burned ever brighter. Nothing would stop him from saving him. If he had by some miracle given Shen Wei hope and restored that faith, he would be for him, what his Wei needed.

"I caught some fish." He said pointing to the haul by the water. Da Qing had taught him to fish and build fires, years ago in preparation for a school trip. Damn Cat just didn't know he was in fact preparing him for the war that gave them the peace treaty. At least he wasn't embarrassing himself too much, with his lack of knowledge, especially in front of Shen Wei.

He flashed the grin that always made Shen Wei smile in response. It was shy and sweet, a touch of red on his cheeks, but his eyes were dancing and that made the world a beautiful place suddenly. He wanted to kiss him, so badly he found himself leaning closer, by habit and because of the sheer power in those eyes, that pulled him in, the rose pink of those lips, he knew had somehow gone so long untouched. Swallowing as Shen Wei looked at him, his face so open and unguarded, trusting Yunlan blindly. Completely.

'Can you cook?"