Title: Based on a true story
Fandom: Guardian
Rating: G
Length: ~3,200 words
Notes: Post-canon fixit crack. Shen Wei/Zhao Yunlan. So much thanks to trobadora for beta. <3 <3 <3
Summary: Some details have been altered for dramatic effect. (The one with the film premiere.)


After a few millennia of being burnt not-alive in the Guardian Lamp, which was mostly a painful blur, and an extended period of yelling into the cosmic void and refusing to concede that his time was up, Zhao Yunlan found himself sprawled face-down on the road outside the Special Investigation Department.

It was night. The air was still and cool and quiet.

He got up, staggering under the unaccustomed weight of gravity, and dusted himself off, conducting an inventory as he went: boots, ripped jeans, white t-shirt, leather jacket, head. The same calloused hands. Even his beard felt neatly trimmed. From the looks of things, he was still himself.

And the world was still itself. Aside from a fresh coat of paint on the SID’s front door, nothing seemed different. He looked around wildly, but there was no one in sight.

This wasn’t what he’d asked for. “Shen Wei!” His voice echoed off the buildings, mocking him. “Shen Wei!”

There was a light rushing sound that made his ears pop, and Shen Wei appeared. Twice.

“Zhao Yunlan,” said the Shen Wei wearing the pin-striped suit. His eyes widened behind his glasses, and a smile broke across his face like the rays of dawn. “I’m sorry if we kept you waiting.”

“He wouldn’t go without me,” said the Shen Wei in jeans and a white hoodie, simultaneously smug and defiant.

“Ye Zun.” Yunlan eyed him warily, but Ye Zun didn’t seem in any hurry to make trouble, and if Shen Wei wanted his brother here, well, family was family. Besides, there were more important things to deal with. “Shen Wei. It’s been a while.”

He clasped Shen Wei’s shoulder tightly, and Shen Wei covered his hand, gripping just as tight. They grinned at each other. Their bet had paid off.

Ye Zun kicked lightly at the front steps of the Department. “Now what?”

Yunlan tamped down his impatience to get Shen Wei alone and fell back on a different appetite. “Now we eat.” He patted his pockets. “Except, oh, I don’t have any money.”

Shen Wei searched his own pockets and likewise came up empty. Ye Zun didn’t even bother checking.

Yunlan was about to knock and see if anyone in the SID would lend him a hundred yuan when the door opened of its own accord, and a slim figure emerged.

Yunlan laughed in surprised. “Da Qing! It’s you!”

“Chief Zhao, why are you here? Aren’t you going to the film premiere?”

“I don’t know anything about a premiere, but let me tell you, Damned Fatty, you’re a sight for sore eyes. Lend me some money, would you?”

Da Qing froze. “Real Chief Zhao? Zhao Yunlan?”

“It’s me!” Yunlan made the sacrificial gesture of releasing his grasp on Shen Wei so he could greet his old deputy, but Da Qing was looking past him.

“Professor Shen! And…” Da Qing’s eyes narrowed and he pointed at Ye Zun, who dug his hands into his jeans pockets and hunched his shoulders.

“My brother,” said Shen Wei firmly. “I vouch for him.”

Da Qing flexed his hands, as if baring his claws, but Yunlan nodded additional reassurance, and he stood down, turning back to Yunlan. “Real Chief Zhao! How are you back? It’s been eight years! How’s that possible?”

“It’s a mystery.”

“By the grace of the Hallows,” said Shen Wei. “Best not to question it.”

“What film premiere?” asked Ye Zun.

Da Qing jumped and looked at his watch. “We’re going to be late. I’ll tell you on the way.”


*


The premiere was fully booked, and most of the attendees had already gone inside by the time they arrived.

“Let’s get dinner instead,” suggested Shen Wei.

“You’d pass up the opportunity to sit in a darkened movie theatre and hold my hand?” said Yunlan, with a wink. “Damned Cat, get us into this premiere.”

So Da Qing went and had a quiet word with the manager, and once the lights went down, they were allowed to slip in and sit on the stairs at the back in direct violation of fire safety regulations. Da Qing even bought a jumbo box of popcorn.

Minister Guo was giving a speech. “…you’ve no doubt heard, it’s broken box office records in Dixing, such as they are, so I’m excited to welcome this highly acclaimed extravaganza from Dixing’s newly established film and television industry. This is Director Wang Yike’s debut feature. Unfortunately, she was unable to attend…”

“It’s directed by Wang Yike?” murmured Shen Wei. “That’s unexpected.”

“I guess she’s been keeping her gloves on. You wouldn’t get far in the film industry if your actors kept dropping dead of old age,” said Yunlan absently. He was peering around the cinema, trying to catch a glimpse of the rest of the SID team.

“Without further ado,” Minister Guo continued, “I present the Haixing premiere of Sword and Sweater Vest.”

From beyond Shen Wei, Ye Zun made a choking sound.

Yunlan stopped looking for familiar faces in the dark and elbowed Da Qing. “Hey, what did you say this film’s about?”

Da Qing grinned. “You’ll see.”

The theme music started, and Shen Wei plucked the popcorn box out of Yunlan’s lap and gave it to Ye Zun.

“I was going to eat that,” said Yunlan.

“You promised.” Shen Wei took his hand in a warm, firm grasp that made Yunlan’s stomach clench and the protest die on his lips. Holding hands was better than popcorn, and he did not want to lose track of Shen Wei again.

In fact, he was so busy watching Shen Wei’s profile, his first inkling of what was happening was Shen Wei’s frown. Yunlan followed his gaze to the screen, where the title “Sword and Sweater Vest” was written in elaborate old-fashioned script, paired with a familiar black mask and long blade.

He bit his lip to keep his pure delight from escaping as laughter. What better subject for the Dixing film industry than a biopic of their most celebrated hero? “I don’t care how bad it is, I’m buying the DVD,” he murmured in Shen Wei’s ear.

But Shen Wei wasn’t listening. “It’s not a sword; it’s a pudao.”

“Poetic license.” Yunlan grinned.

It wasn’t a short film. To a growing chorus of shuffling, coughing and whispers from the premiere audience, the first two hours were largely concerned with Dixing political infighting and the Black-Cloaked Envoy’s subjugation of the Rebels. A burly fellow appeared as Kunlun, pledged undying allegiance to the Black-Cloaked Envoy and his cause, and vanished in the following scene. This made Shen Wei huff in annoyance.

Yunlan leaned into his side. “Hey, that’s pretty much how I remember it. Relax.”

Shen Wei answered him with a fleeting brush of lips to Yunlan’s temple, so the next part of the film passed without Yunlan really noticing.

Anyway, the showdown with Ye Zun was glossed over in favour of an extended effects sequence starring the Hallows, which were red and glittery in this incarnation.

Then the narrative jumped 9,900 years to a harrowing scene of the Black-Cloaked Envoy clawing his way out of being buried alive, followed by a ton of exposition about the then-current state of Dixing–Human relations. Yunlan rubbed Shen Wei’s knuckles absently and made a mental list of plans for later that evening when they were alone.

Finally, the Black-Cloaked Envoy took off his mask for the first time—he was an attractive enough actor, but no match for the real thing—and went to Haixing. This was accompanied by a lot of blatant product placement and a good twenty minutes of travelogue as Shen Wei explored every major city in Haixing and saved a string of hapless Humans from sticky predicaments of their own making.

Finally, he returned to Dragon City and began the life of an academic. Yunlan got the impression no one in the art department had ever set foot in a school, let alone a university.

Ten years later, said the screen, and Da Qing bounced on his stair. “At last!”

Yunlan hushed him. When he turned back to the screen, movie Shen Wei was talking to a slinky woman in leather pants and a flimsy, revealing blouse, who was unsuccessfully flirting with him and trying to drape herself onto his arm.

“Who’s that?” he asked Shen Wei in a whisper, pointing at the screen. “What scandals have you been hiding from me?”

“I’m very pleased to meet you, Professor Shen,” purred the leather-clad woman. “I’m Chief Zhao, of the Special Investigations Department.”

Ye Zun hooted loudly. Da Qing was shaking with suppressed laughter.

Both iterations of Shen Wei stiffened: the one on the screen disentangled himself and imparted salient information regarding the murder of a student, in an obvious attempt to get rid of the Human hussy as quickly as possible.

Meanwhile the Shen Wei sitting on the stair next to Yunlan ground his teeth. “This is outrageously offensive.”

For Yunlan’s part, it was the best thing he’d seen in his entire existence. He patted Shen Wei’s arm and whispered, “To be fair, if I was a woman, I probably would dress like that.”

Movie Zhao turned out to be mostly evil, ineptly assisted by her team of misfits. Zhu Hong, Da Qing and Chu Shuzhi were relatively accurately depicted, albeit exhibiting a hardened prejudice against all Dixingren, which in Chu Shuzhi’s case resulted in a few outbursts of dramatic self-loathing. Guo Changcheng was a bumbling coward, and Wang Zheng was omitted entirely.

Of the original SID team, Lin Jing was the only one portrayed as brave and kind-hearted. A suspicion stirred in Yunlan’s heart.

The film at least did a creditable job of tying the motivations of Ye Zun and his adherents to those of the original Rebels from 10,000 years ago, which gave the film some structure even if it wasn’t based in reality as Yunlan understood it. Meanwhile the Black-Cloaked Envoy was torn between his duty to Dixing and his pursuit of academic glory in Haixing. He remained impervious to Chief Zhao, who nonetheless exerted all her feminine wiles to get his attention.

The only point at which it stopped being hilarious was when Chief Zhao tricked Shen Wei into compromising his life force to save her. “This is starting to seem distressingly perceptive,” muttered Yunlan.

“Nonsense!” Shen Wei didn’t bother to keep his voice down.

“Shhh!” A woman from a seat nearby glared at them, and Yunlan realised with a start that the audience was engrossed: every eye was turned to the screen, a hushed attention enveloping the room. Somehow, that made him feel worse.

Thankfully, shortly thereafter Chief Zhao’s leather-clad seduction attempts were successful, which made the real Shen Wei drop his gaze to the grubby carpet at their feet, providing a welcome distraction for Yunlan. “I can feel the heat of your blush from here.”

“Shhh,” retorted Shen Wei, sounding unamused.

The scene shifted to Dixing, where Ye Zun was still trapped in the glowing pillar, and the movie headed towards its gripping conclusion.

“I’m getting more popcorn.” The real Ye Zun jumped up and slipped silently through the doors.

Shen Wei squeezed Yunlan’s hand and let it go. “I should check on him.”

“Yeah, of course.” Yunlan generously waved him away, but sitting in the darkened theatre without Shen Wei proved excruciating. What if whatever glitch had brought them back suddenly reversed itself? What if Ye Zun had been triggered by the film and turned evil again? Anyway, Yunlan had already decided to buy Sword and Sweater Vest on DVD. He could watch the ending later. He nudged Da Qing to excuse himself and followed the others outside.

The scene in the lobby was singularly undramatic, though. Ye Zun and Shen Wei stood side by side, looking through the glass doors to the empty street and talking in low voices. Ye Zun said something, and Shen Wei laughed and nodded.

Yunlan relaxed and went to charm a coke out of the kid on the concession counter with a promise to pay her back later. Then he leaned against the wall, keeping an eye on Shen Wei from a discreet distance.

From inside the theatre came the inevitable booms and crashes of a climactic action sequence, and then music and applause. According to the clock over the concession counter, it was nearly midnight—so that made a running time of four hours and change. Yunlan grinned. If anyone was worthy of such an epic, it was Shen Wei.

A few people scurried out of the theatre in the direction of the restrooms, and Da Qing appeared at his side. “It’s over.”

“How did it end?”

“You redeemed yourself in your final minutes,” said Da Qing.

“That’s a relief.” Yunlan wouldn’t have put it past the production to transfer the blame for the whole mess onto his—or her—shoulders, and if he was back for good, which he sincerely hoped he was, he could do without that kind of PR.

“Lin Jing was credited as a story consultant,” added Da Qing.

“As expected. If only I still had the power to deduct his bonuses…”

The lobby was starting to fill up with people post-mortem-ing the film, so they paid the concession kid for Yunlan’s drink and went to join Shen Wei, arriving in time to hear Ye Zun say, “You’re overreacting, brother.”

“Overreacting how?” Yunlan slung his arm across Shen Wei’s shoulder.

Shen Wei smiled a greeting. “I just think it might be time to change my name, as well as… certain aspects of my appearance.”

“New hairstyle, new pair of glasses?” guessed Yunlan. “Come on, you’re a celebrity. Why throw that away? You should cash in, now everyone knows you’re a hero.”

Shen Wei shook his head and looked about to launch into a point-by-point critique of the film when a distinguished old man tapped him on the arm. “Professor Shen, is that you? It’s been a long time!”

“Chancellor!” Shen Wei gave a small bow and introduced Yunlan and the others. “This is Chancellor Xu of Dragon City University.”

Yunlan released Shen Wei to shake the Chancellor’s hand.

“What a truly fortuitous meeting,” said the Chancellor to Shen Wei. “I’ve been racking my brains to think who would be right for the role, and here you are in the flesh. Have you been abroad?”

Yunlan pointed to the theatre. Did the Chancellor not realise that the Shen Wei in the film and his former Professor Shen were one and the same? “Uh, he’s been—”

Shen Wei pushed his arm down and spoke over him smoothly. “Yes, sir. As it happens, I only just returned to Dragon City today.”

“Splendid! And you’re planning to stay, I trust? Then I’d like you to consider taking on the deanship of our new Department of Dixing Studies. What do you say? Don’t disappoint me, Professor. You were always one of our brightest stars.”

“Dixing Studies?” echoed Shen Wei, nonplussed.

“Yes, yes, the whole field—culture, history, whatever else you like. I’ll happily leave the curriculum in your hands. It’s just that there’s a growing demand among the new students, you know, especially those from Down There.”

Shen Wei seemed lost for words.

Yunlan buried his laughter in his coke cup. If ever a man had been born for a role…

“I must say, you’re looking well, Professor. You’ve hardly aged a day. We must catch up for drinks soon—yes, I know you don’t partake. You really should work on that.” The Chancellor looked around and spotted a woman approaching them. “Ah, here’s my wife. That means it’s time I was going. Professor, do let me know your decision.”

Shen Wei bowed.

Ye Zun rolled his eyes and slid into the crowd.

“Just think,” said Yunlan, gesturing with his empty cup, “designing your own curriculum. You could offer philosophy of time travel. Maybe I’ll enrol for the pleasure of having you as my dean.”

“Don’t you dare,” said Shen Wei, darkly, but he was smiling. “It does seem highly fortuitous timing, though.”

“Almost as if it were meant to be.” Yunlan glanced around, wondering who else would appear, but he couldn’t spot the other members of the SID team in the throng. Then he saw something truly terrible. “What the hell is happening over there?”

Shen Wei and Da Qing followed his gaze.

“That’s Chief Zhao,” said Da Qing. “The other Chief Zhao.”

“And Ye Zun,” said Shen Wei, sounding strangled. “Are they—”

“Flirting,” confirmed Yunlan. Ye Zun was putting Movie Zhao to shame, and Zhang Shi appeared to be encouraging his advances enthusiastically. Yunlan averted his gaze. “I can’t watch that. Let’s get out of here. Da Qing, let us stay with you.”

He could reunite with the rest of the team tomorrow.

Da Qing shrugged. “I live at the Department now. We turned the storage room into a caretaker’s apartment.”

“Even better. You can sleep on the couch.” Yunlan and Da Qing escaped out into the quiet of the street and waited while Shen Wei went to tell Ye Zun they were leaving. Yunlan looked back at the press of people inside. “How long since people have been freely coming and going between Haixing and Dixing?”

Da Qing scratched his neck. “Dixing was closed off for about three months. It was so boring—the SID had nothing to do. Now there’s one official door, which you need a visa to get through, but a few other portals have been opening up too.”

Yunlan nodded thoughtfully. “Just enough to keep you busy, then.”

Shen Wei came out and joined them. “Ye Zun will catch up with us later. He told me to stop fussing.”

“No doubt Zhang Shi will take care of him,” said Yunlan. He shook off the disturbing image of his doppelganger and Shen Wei’s brother, and took Shen Wei’s hand, letting the peaceful night seep into his bones. They started walking back to the Department.

After a while, Da Qing fell behind, waylaid by a teenage kitten that was prowling around a closed restaurant door, and Shen Wei lowered his voice. “I’m sorry about—about the film. Are you angry?”

Yunlan hid a grin and pouted at him from under his eyelashes. “My pride is so deeply wounded, I may never recover.”

“Oh.” A wrinkle marred Shen Wei’s perfect brow.

Yunlan stepped in front of him, bringing them both to a halt, and poked Shen Wei in the chest. His Shen Wei, here in his city—and no civilisation-threatening apocalypse or nemesis out to get them. Just the two of them. Yunlan hooked his finger into the vee of Shen Wei’s suit jacket and used it to tug him closer. “I may never recover,” he repeated. “That is, unless you use that brilliant mind of yours to think of some way to compensate me.”

Shen Wei swallowed, and his gaze dropped to Yunlan’s mouth. “I may have some ideas.”


END