Title: like sunlight on scales
Fandom: Guardian
Rating: G
Length: ~7700 words
Notes: Zhu Hong/Li Qian. Post canon. Features disease and canon-typical science. SPOILERS FOR THE ENDING. Also for the prompt Z (FFW bingo). Many thanks to trobadora and cyphomandra for beta. <3 <3 <3
Summary: In which the Yashou need a vaccine, Zhu Hong comes to terms with her new role, Li Qian has a plan, and there is a feast.

1.

As befitted the Chief of the Yashou Tribes, Zhu Hong was precisely on time for her appointment at the Haixing Department of Supervision, and Institute Director Li didn’t keep her waiting.

“Thank you for seeing me, Director Li.” Zhu Hong looked around the office. It was a small converted storeroom, without windows or even space for a couch. The desk held only a laptop, a neat stack of papers and folders, a leather-bound notebook and half a dozen ballpoint pens, but the shelves were crammed with books and more folders, as well as a circular stone sculpture and a Greek bust Zhu Hong remembered from Shen Wei’s office at Dragon City University. On a small table in the corner, crowded by two padded armchairs, there were an electric kettle and tea things.

Director Li herself was incongruous in the humble room and barely recognisable as the distraught student Zhu Hong had once comforted at her grandmother’s graveside. Her frame was still slight, and she looked too young for her lab coat, but she radiated quiet confidence. “Chief Zhu, even if we never fought side-by-side, we were allies in the Dixing uprising,” she said. “Please keep calling me Li Qian.”

“Zhu Hong.”

They exchanged smiles, and Zhu Hong found herself relaxing. She hadn’t wanted to come to the Department of Supervision, especially not to ask for help; she didn’t trust them, after the way they’d turned against the SID. But Lin Jing claimed Li Qian had always been on their side, and that only her laboratory was equipped to do what was needed. And the mementos from Shen Wei’s office were unexpectedly reassuring.

Anyway, Zhu Hong had to do what was best for her people. Even Ya Qing had agreed turning to the Humans for help was the right course of action, since none of the traditional Yashou remedies were working.

“I apologise for the state of my office—it’s only temporary. The wall of the director’s office sustained some structural damage during an experiment in the lab. It’s still being repaired.” Li Qian gestured to the armchairs. “Please have a seat. Would you like some tea?”

“Thank you.” Zhu Hong sat down and linked her hands in her lap while Li Qian made fragrant tea. It had an old-fashioned aroma, and the teacups were old-fashioned too, thin elegant porcelain with a scalloped edge to the saucers. Personal keepsakes, not department issue.

Li Qian passed Zhu Hong a cup and saucer and took the other chair. “Now, what brings you here, Zhu Hong?”

“I know you know about Dixingren, but have you heard of Yashouren?”

“Shapeshifters,” said Li Qian, promptly. “Three tribes, or is it four? I’ve read Professor Shen’s private notebooks.”

“I’m here as their chief,” said Zhu Hong, relieved when the other woman only nodded. When Zhu Hong had called to make the appointment, she’d used her title but chosen not to explain it over the phone. But perhaps Lin Jing had already told Li Qian about her, or Shen Wei had mentioned Zhu Hong in his notes. “The Crow Tribe has a sickness that stops them from shifting into their bird forms. More people are infected every day. Soon they’ll be like the Snake Tribe, and none of them will be able to change.”

Li Qian tilted her head. “The Snake Tribe can’t shift forms? I didn’t know that.”

“I can change my lower half if I concentrate, but otherwise I’m always as you see me. It’s been many years since the Snake Tribe became this way, since I was a child.” Zhu Hong still had vague memories of slithering through the undergrowth around Fourth Uncle’s house, tasting the air and twining her way up trees and along branches while her mother called for her to come down for dinner. She pushed the recollections aside.

Li Qian set her teacup down and reached to take her notebook and a pen from the desk behind her. She folded back the leather cover and jotted a few lines, frowning thoughtfully and reminding Zhu Hong of Guo Changcheng when he’d first joined the SID, although Li Qian seemed far more sure of herself than Xiao Guo had then.

Zhu Hong finished her request. “Lin Jing said the Crows need a vaccine and the lab at the SID doesn’t have the necessary facilities to produce one. He said you might be able to help.”

Li Qian nodded as if it were a perfectly reasonable thing to ask, as if her lab existed to help Yashouren just as much as Humans. “We’ll certainly do our best. Are you quarantining the sick? Did you bring a sample?”

“What kind of sample?” asked Zhu Hong, confused. She’d expected to have to bargain, if not beg.

“We’ll need live samples of the virus—assuming it’s a virus—and I’d like blood from some members of the Snake Tribe too, so I can compare this new strain to the one that affected you.” Li Qian stood up and went to rummage in a box on the bottom shelf of her bookcase, then straightened holding some clear plastic packets of medical equipment and a tourniquet. Politeness and formalities apparently forgotten, she grabbed her jacket from the back of her desk chair and looked at Zhu Hong expectantly. “Let’s go.”

“Now?” Zhu Hong put down her tea.

“The sooner we get samples, the sooner my team can begin work on a vaccine.”

Zhu Hong had never been to a doctor. The Snake Tribe had its own medicines, and until now, they’d worked well enough. Injections, blood samples, science—those were for Humans. But she was the chief, and she’d come here to ask for help. And she trusted Li Qian. She pushed her sleeve up past the elbow. “Start with me.”

Li Qian dropped her jacket on the desk and tore open one of the packets without ceremony. She took out a vial, wrote on the label and attached a needle, then wheeled her desk chair to Zhu Hong’s side and lowered the seat until they were on about the same level. Using a cool impersonal touch, she fastened the tourniquet, positioned Zhu Hong’s forearm along the arm of her chair, palm up, and cleaned her skin with an alcoholic wipe.

Zhu Hong didn’t consider herself squeamish, but she also didn’t want to watch; instead she fixed her gaze on the objects on the shelves and tried not to hold her breath.

“How are things at the Special Investigation Department?” Li Qian sounded slightly distracted as she worked.

“Different. Quiet.” It had been five and a half months, but it still hurt to talk about it. The recruitment drive couldn’t fill the empty places left by the fallen. Every time the phone rang, Zhu Hong expected Wang Zheng to answer it, and Chief Zhao wasn’t… Zhu Hong closed her eyes. “What about you? You must miss Professor Shen.”

“Very much,” said Li Qian, and then she was sticking a plaster across Zhu Hong’s inner elbow and smoothing it down with her fingertips. “There, all done.” Zhu Hong blinked at her, but she was writing again, head bent in concentration. She closed the notebook and held up the vial of blood. “I’ll just put this in the lab refrigerator and tell my colleague to keep an eye on some processes I’m running, and then we can go.”

Zhu Hong pressed her hand over the plaster while she waited, and slowly the strange feeling of having been pierced dissipated. It was nothing. Humans did this all the time.


*


Fourth Uncle was waiting anxiously when they arrived at the Snake village. “Thank goodness you’re here. It’s Ya Qing—she’s fallen ill.”

Zhu Hong’s heart sank. Not everyone who caught the sickness lost their ability to shift forms, but most did, and it was hard to imagine proud Ya Qing trapped in her Human body, unable to fly.

Li Qian stepped forward. “Where is she?”

“Are you a healer?”

“A scientist, but I brought a broad-spectrum antiviral.”

Zhu Hong introduced them formally, and touched Li Qian’s arm. “It’s this way, I’ll show you.”

Fourth Uncle stopped her. “I’ll take Director Li. Ya Qing won’t want you to see her like this.”

Zhu Hong watched them enter the house where the sick were being nursed by members of the Snake Tribe, and her stomach twisted. She was the chief; there must be more she could do. If only she’d insisted on turning to the Humans for help or started quarantining the sick sooner.

But she was still coming to terms with her position, still trying to gain the others’ respect. She’d never expected to be a leader, least of all on her own like this. It was Zhao Yunlan’s fault—he was the one who’d told her how to activate the key.

If he’d been here, he would have known what to do. Zhu Hong sat at the table outside Fourth Uncle’s house and traced the grain of the wood on the table top. Even the sun beating down on her back, warming her blood, was poor comfort. What was a leader’s role? What had Zhao Yunlan done as chief of the SID? He’d kept everyone safe, made sure everyone knew what their job was and that they did it well, and he’d sought counsel when necessary, usually from Shen Wei.

Well, Li Qian was better than Shen Wei! Li Qian didn’t have a brother who was trying to destroy the world, and she had a lab and practical resources at her disposal. Li Qian wasn’t distracting Zhu Hong from her work and making her behave like a completely unrecognisable, love-struck person. Li Qian was much better!

Zhu Hong stared up at the empty blue sky, waiting for her eyes to stop burning.

From behind her came approaching wingbeats, which ceased abruptly, and when she turned, she saw a flash of dark feathers under the eaves of the sick house.

Zhu Hong got up and stepped closer. “Who is it?”

There was a rustling sound, but no reply.

“Come down, whoever you are. That house is under quarantine.”

Silence, and Zhu Hong was tempted to fetch Fourth Uncle to deal with it, but she was the chief. She could handle this.

Zhao Yunlan had always known people’s weaknesses and used them when necessary, and while she didn’t know who she was dealing with, all Crows liked sweet things. There was a bowl of fruit on the table just inside Fourth Uncle’s house next door. “I’ll give you some grapes,” she said, going to get some, but finding only apples and pears. “Or how about a pear? Or do I need to find a ladder and come up to help you down?”

A scuffle, and then a small Crow flew from the eaves in a flurry of wings and landed in front of her, transforming into a small scowling boy of four or five as he did so. “I can get down by myself. I need to see my dad.”

“What’s your name?” Zhu Hong crouched down to give him the pear. She’d met the adults of the Crow Tribe, but she still didn’t know all the children.

“Li Jun.”

“Is your dad sick, Xiao-Jun?”

Li Jun looked about to cry, so Zhu Hong gave him an awkward hug. “He’s going to be okay, but you can’t see him for a while. If you get sick too, your dad will worry about you.”

“I have to tell Dad I’m okay.” Li Jun squirmed out of her arms and hurled himself towards the sick house.

“Stop!” Zhu Hong lunged after him and caught him by his t-shirt when he was only a few feet from the door, nearly ending up in the dirt herself. She swung him up into her arms. “Xioa-Jun, no, you can’t go in there!”

She carried him, protesting vehemently, to the cookhouse where some aunties were making soup for the invalids and left him in their care while she called Ya Qing’s cousin to let her know where Li Jun was. It wasn’t fair—a child should be able to see his sick father—but it was necessary.

About ten minutes later, Li Qian and Fourth Uncle emerged from the sick house. Li Qian was tucking a clear plastic bag containing several vials of blood into her kit, and Fourth Uncle was pressing a plaster to the inside of his elbow.

“How is everyone?” asked Zhu Hong.

Fourth Uncle shook his head gravely. “It doesn’t look good.”

“Even if the antiviral is effective, it will take a while to work,” said Li Qian. “Maintain the quarantine, and make sure they all drink plenty of fluids.”

Zhu Hong felt a rush of gratitude, which swamped her feeling of uselessness. “When this is all over, I’ll treat you to lunch.”

It was a pleasing thought: two professional women forming an alliance, maybe even a friendship. Zhu Hong didn’t have any female friends anymore.

But Fourth Uncle held up his hand. “Nonsense! We must hold a Yashou feast in Director Li’s honour. That’s the proper way to express our appreciation.”

Li Qian flushed. “It would be my pleasure. But right now, I need to get these samples back to the lab.”

“I’ll walk you to your car.” The path through the Sacred Wood was easy to miss if you weren’t used to it.

Li Qian nodded her thanks, and they walked through the woods in companionable silence, Li Qian seeming deep in thought, so much so that she nearly tripped over a tree root. Zhu Hong caught her arm before she could fall, and Li Qian flushed. “Clumsy of me.”

“Not at all. The fallen leaves…”

“Zhu Hong, is it all right if I ask you something about the Special Investigation Department?”

Zhu Hong released her arm so they could face one another. “Of course. What is it?”

“Since the uprising, Chief Zhao seems… different.” Li Qian hitched her bag more firmly on her shoulder. “I know Professor Shen’s passing must have been a shock, since they were so close, but it’s more than that, isn’t it? Did he use the serum?”

“He did,” said Zhu Hong. “I was there. But that’s not why he’s changed.”

Li Qian frowned. “The serum would have affected—”

“He died.” The words scraped Zhu Hong’s throat, and the sound of them made her hands clench into fists. She should be used to it by now, but it hurt like it had happened yesterday, and the wound was still raw. She folded her arms, hugging herself. “He’s dead. The person we call Chief Zhao now isn’t Zhao Yunlan.”

Li Qian had started to smile, as if it must be a joke, but she must have seen the truth on Zhu Hong’s face or heard it in her voice. Her eyes widened, and she reached for the tree trunk beside her for support. “That’s—how is that possible?”

Zhu Hong shook her head. “I don’t know. I don’t know who he is. A Dixingren, I think. He said Zhao Yunlan asked him to take his place, and Director Zhao vouched for him.”

“So Professor Shen and Chief Zhao both—” Li Qian broke off, her eyes brightening with tears.

Zhu Hong refused to cry, not again. She looked away. “You need to get those samples to your lab.”

“Yes.” Li Qian swallowed and repeated herself with more determination. “Yes.”

“Come on.” Zhu Hong led the way without looking back.

When they arrived at Li Qian’s car, Zhu Hong made herself calm down and ask, as Chief of the Yashou Tribes, “How is Ya Qing really? And the others?”

“The antiviral is unlikely to stop the disease taking hold, I’m afraid, and it’s too early to say about the virus’ side-effects.” Li Qian unlocked the car and stowed her bag in the footwell on the passenger side, then faced Zhu Hong again. “I don’t want to get your hopes up, but I’m going to look for a gene therapy treatment, to reverse the effects of the virus. For the Snakes too.”

“You mean a cure?” Zhu Hong stood up straighter, surprise tingling down her spine. “Do you think that’s possible?”

“I don’t know yet.” Li Qian gave her a small smile. “It ties into some other research I’m working on, and I’d like to find out. But please don’t tell anyone. It might be impossible, and even if it isn’t, it could take years. It’s really too soon to say.”

Zhu Hong nodded, hope warming her like sunlight on scales, a welcome distraction from the past.

“And Zhu Hong, you did the right thing, setting up the quarantine and coming to me. There’s nothing more you could have done.”

Zhu Hong felt the doubt and worry ease from her shoulders. “Thank you, Li Qian. I’ll let you know about the feast in your honour.”

“I’ll look forward to it.” Li Qian’s smile widened. She slid into the driver’s seat and drove away, leaving Zhu Hong standing on the edge of the Sacred Wood watching her car turn towards the city.

2.

A Yashou feast was a large, noisy affair. Everyone came, even Flower People who hadn’t transformed into Human form in years.

Officially it began at dusk, but in reality it was early afternoon when the elders gathered to drink tea, gossip loudly and direct the proceedings in the clearing by Fourth Uncle’s house, while the young Snake men dug a roasting pit, and four Crow children who’d escaped the virus thanks to being vaccinated, Xiao Jun among them, flew up to string lights in the nearby trees and chase each other through the branches. Everyone else was busy arranging long tables and chairs in a big circle, or cooking, or tuning their instruments for the performance that would take place after the meal.

Zhu Hong, by virtue of her position, was excused from the preparations. She went to wait in the early autumn sunlight at the edge of the Sacred Wood to welcome their guests. She hadn’t been present when the vaccine was administered, so she hadn’t seen Li Qian since her first visit to the Snake village. It seemed both years ago and like yesterday.

Li Qian had been invited to bring her family to the feast, but since she had none, she’d asked if she could bring her colleagues instead. They arrived in a chauffeur-driven Department of Supervision car with Da Qing, who Zhu Hong had invited separately. Da Qing was his usual self in jeans, a white t-shirt and his sky-blue jacket, but the two male researchers from the lab both wore slightly ill-fitting suits that made them look geekily awkward.

Li Qian, though, was wearing a simple green dress with a full skirt and cut-outs at the shoulders and carrying a dark brown suede jacket over her arm. She looked natural and elegant, and Zhu Hong admired her style.

“Chief Zhu,” said Li Qian in greeting. “Allow me to present Researcher Xu Weijun and Researcher Wu Chongyang.”

Xu Weijun was tall and thin, with bony hands and a fringe that nearly obscured his eyes. He bowed, apparently too shy to meet Zhu Hong’s gaze. “I’m honoured,” he mumbled, so quietly it was hard to hear.

“Researcher Xu was instrumental in creating the vaccine so quickly.” Li Qian punched him on the arm, in much the same manner that Zhu Hong had hit Lin Jing a hundred times, and he ducked his head and rubbed the spot without complaint.

“Then we are in your debt.” Zhu Hong smiled and turned to include Wu Chongyang. “You are all very welcome.”

“Enough with the niceties,” said Da Qing, impatiently. “This is supposed to be a feast. Where’s the food?”

They laughed and set off for the village.

Many of the Yashou already knew Li Qian by now, and she was greeted warmly. Researcher Xu and Researcher Wu stuck close to her, but Researcher Wu gradually relaxed as the evening progressed. He still began every second utterance with, “Well, it’s hard to say for certain,” but Zhu Hong suspected that was just his way.

The Flower Tribe arrived en masse as the sun was setting, with honey and a wreath for the guest of honour. Li Qian accepted the wreath solemnly and introduced her colleagues again.

Fourth Uncle came up beside her and murmured an apology on the Flowers’ behalf. “They’re always late at this time of year.”

As chief, Zhu Hong sounded the gong and gave a short welcome so the feast could begin in earnest. To start with, everyone stayed seated and chatted to those next to them, but inevitably, after a few glasses of wine and with appetites sated and children running around, chairs were moved and groups formed.

Zhu Hong was drawn into a lengthy discussion about plans for the next Yashou market, and when she looked around, the researchers were drinking with the young men of the Snake Tribe, and Li Qian was sitting with a quartet of grandmothers, all of them laughing together.

Zhu Hong sent Da Qing to make sure the researchers were all right, and went herself to check on Li Qian.

“Are you married?” she heard a grandmother of the Flower Tribe ask, as she approached, and when Li Qian shook her head, smiling, the grandmother added, “Why not?”

“You’re such a pretty girl! Don’t leave it too long,” said another.

“You know, there are some nice young men you should meet in the Crow Tribe,” said a third, a member of the Crow Tribe herself.

Li Qian laughed, her cheeks pink, and Zhu Hong stepped in and rescued her from further interrogation. “The entertainment’s about to start,” she told the grandmothers.

Just then a single steady drumbeat began, proving her right by signalling the start of the history dance. The children sat in a group on the ground, and everyone quieted down to watch the story of Fu You and how she’d brought the Yashou Tribes together to form an alliance with the Humans.

Da Qing sat with Zhu Hong and Li Qian and kept up a running commentary under his breath. “That’s not how it went! I was there! Why aren’t there any Cats in this story?”

“Shh, it’s tradition,” Zhu Hong hushed him.

The dance ended in loud applause, and more wine bottles were brought out. Zhu Hong congratulated herself that, being chief, she wasn’t on kitchen duty, which she’d never been good at, though she would still have to help with clean-up the next morning just like everyone else.

Tired children from the different tribes curled up together on blankets under the trees. Zhu Hong, Li Qian and Da Qing retreated to Zhu Hong’s favourite clearing, deeper in the woods, as if they were teenagers, but this time with bottles of beer and wine so they could drink away from the searching gazes—and questions—of the elders. A few of the young Snake and Crow men came too, and a Flower Tribe couple who kept gazing into each other’s eyes, reminding Zhu Hong of Wang Zheng and Sang Zan.

Yao Jiahui, who’d had a crush on Zhu Hong as long as she could remember, had been shy around her since she became chief, but tonight he was almost his old self. Zhu Hong, warm and happy with wine and good company, let him sit on her other side, but she frowned when he leaned forward to talk past her to Li Qian, who was holding her flower wreath in her lap, fingering the pattern of interwoven stems.

“I thought Humans were afraid of Yashouren,” he said. “Isn’t it uncomfortable to be surrounded by Snakes and monsters?”

Those sitting near them stopped talking to listen to Li Qian’s answer, and Zhu Hong was about to glare Yao Jiahui into submission, but Li Qian answered calmly, without hesitation, “Yashouren and Dixingren are just more special than the rest of us. The real monsters only exist in people’s hearts.”

She sounded as if she was quoting someone.

“Anyway, you’re talking to the favourite student of the Black Cloaked Envoy,” scoffed Da Qing to Yao Jiahui. “Why would she be scared of you?”

“What?” Yao Jiahui looked alarmed and sat back.

“What?” echoed Li Qian. She stared at Da Qing. “What are you saying?”

Zhu Hong nudged her. “Shen Wei was the Black Cloaked Envoy. Didn’t you know?”

Li Qian blinked for a moment, seeming dumbstruck. “I didn’t know,” she said slowly, “but oh, that explains so much!” She looked torn between laughter and sadness.

Zhu Hong put an arm around her and Li Qian leaned in, letting her head drop onto Zhu Hong’s shoulder, a strand of her hair tickling Zhu Hong’s arm. “No tears tonight,” said Zhu Hong.

“No tears.” They clinked glasses and drank, and Zhu Hong stroked Li Qian’s hair and felt her sigh. The soft night sounds of the woods, insects and birds, blended with the conversations around them, and then the Flower couple started singing, their voices sweet and clear as starlight. Zhao Yunlan’s absence would never be right, but Zhu Hong was drunkenly comforted by being among friends, old and new.

3.

Zhu Hong sighed, swigged a mouthful of beer from the bottle and let the pages of her book fall closed. She was sitting in the armchair by the window of her bedroom, having left work at a reasonable hour for once. Actually, her work hours had become a lot more regular since access to and from Dixing closed, but she chose not to think about that, nor the events associated with the closure. The point was, she could hear her landlords, Uncle and Auntie Zhang, laughing at something on television downstairs, and it was hard to concentrate on the serious profundity of The Book of Leadership and Strategy.

The morning after the Yashou feast, when Zhu Hong had been walking everyone back to the car with its waiting driver, Li Qian had asked her what kind of chief she wanted to be. Zhu Hong hadn’t had a ready answer—it had been nearly dawn, and she’d been drinking most of the night—but she’d been thinking about it since: what kind of leader to be. She’d decided it was time to do some research.

Li Qian herself seemed to have taken charge at the laboratory with surprising aplomb. Zhu Hong still remembered her as a pale, red-eyed student being terrorised by the shadow man from Dixing and defiantly shielding the Longevity Dial from the SID’s investigation; now she’d become strong and determined and was running a major scientific research facility. When she’d reassured Zhu Hong during the Yashou disease outbreak, she’d spoken with such authority that it had genuinely eased Zhu Hong’s self-doubt, even though Li Qian was her junior.

Perhaps Zhu Hong could change like that, too: become stronger and win the tribal leaders’ respect. They all still thought of her as a child, but she was their chief; if she spoke well, they would have to listen.

It would be good to run her ideas past someone first, though. Someone with perspective. She reached for her phone and brought up Li Qian’s contact details. After all, there was no point having smart friends if you couldn’t call on them from time to time.

Li Qian’s reply message came quickly: I’d love to meet up! I have something to tell you, too.

They arranged to have dinner the next evening at a small restaurant near the Department of Supervision that Li Qian recommended.

“It’s my treat,” said Li Qian, when Zhu Hong sat down across from her and looked around. The restaurant was quiet and expensive-seeming, with thick red carpet and glossy black tables. It was a very Human establishment.

That was all the more reason she couldn’t let Li Qian foot the bill. “No, no, I was the one who suggested we meet. I should pay.”

“After the wonderful feast, though—” Li Qian stared her down, a small grin at the corners of her mouth.

Zhu Hong was older than Li Qian, and she could have drawn on her seniority and insisted, but she felt her cheeks grow warm for no reason, an unaccustomed feeling for a Snake, and it threw her enough that she laughed to cover. “Okay, you win. I’ll eat well, then.”

“Yes, eat a lot.” Li Qian laughed too. She was wearing a yellow dress with a flower pattern and a white collar, and it made her look young and carefree. “How have you been, Zhu Hong?”

“I’ve been thinking about what you asked me, about what kind of leader I want to be for the Yashou. There is so much I could do.”

Li Qian leaned forward. “Like what? I want to hear about your plans.”

Before Zhu Hong could answer, they were interrupted by a waiter, but afterwards Zhu Hong told her about the school she wanted to establish for Yashou children. “Some of them are so bright and talented, they should have a chance to go to university, but they need to know the basics first. And it would be good for all of us to learn more about the world.”

Li Qian nodded. “What will the elders think about that? Have you talked about it with Fourth Uncle and the others?”

“I’ll have to persuade them,” said Zhu Hong. “Being older doesn’t make them always right. New methods and new ideas replace old ones for a reason.”

Li Qian grinned at her and raised her glass in a toast. “Chief Zhu is very impressive when she’s being radical.”

Zhu Hong blushed again and was almost relieved when they were distracted by their meals arriving. “This smells so delicious,” she said, breathing in the aroma of spicy noodles. “What about you? You said you had something you wanted to tell me.”

“Yes.” Li Qian picked up her chopsticks but didn’t eat. “I wanted to say that the vaccine we developed for the Yashou is actually helping with my other research.”

“What research?” asked Zhu Hong politely, expecting to be overwhelmed with scientific jargon in reply, but it turned out that Li Qian was good at explaining things simply; she made science far more interesting than Lin Jing did.

“I’m continuing Professor Shen’s research into dark energy and bio-engineering. He wanted to help those Dixingren with spontaneous involuntary effects—those whose powers are an affliction—by giving them the ability to control themselves. The disease which prevented the Yashou from shape-shifting works by a particular mechanism which might be the key to unlocking the problem.”

Zhu Hong remembered Wang Yike and others like her, devastated by hurting those closest to them. “That’s a great goal. But now that we’re shut off from Dixing, how will you—?”

“It’s still in the experimental stages. I’ll worry about that when I get to it. For now, there are still several Dixingren living here in secret, who’ve been willing to provide us with samples.” She sounded resolute, as if this was her life’s work and she’d never abandon it, no matter what obstacles stood in her path. For Shen Wei.

Zhu Hong ate a mouthful of spicy noodles and swallowed. “You did say you miss Professor Shen very much.”

“He was my teacher,” said Li Qian, as if that were an answer. She bit her lip, her determination falling away, leaving her young again.

“Did you—Were you—?” Zhu Hong didn’t know how to ask. “Was he only a teacher to you?”

“He was very kind. He listened when I needed someone to talk to.” She looked at Zhu Hong for a moment, the tips of her chopsticks resting on her plate, then she seemed to make a decision. “I had a hard time at university. It wasn’t just my grandmother’s illness. I fell in love with one of my classmates—a girl.”

Zhu Hong’s mind went blank. She swallowed. “Oh.”

“She didn’t feel the same, and some of our classmates found out, and…” Li Qian looked sad for a moment, then shrugged. “Professor Shen said it was perfectly natural.”

“Yes,” said Zhu Hong. “Of course.” It sounded mechanical, even though she meant it. She took a sip of wine, and blurted, “I was in love with Zhao Yunlan.” It was only after she said it, that she realised she’d used the past tense.

Li Qian blinked. “That must have been—”

“Embarrassing. Frustrating.” Zhu Hong grimaced at the memory of the rejection and her own disappointment, how hopelessly pathetic she’d been. “I didn’t like Shen Wei very much.”

Li Qian laughed, not unkindly, and after a moment, Zhu Hong joined her, finally able to see the humour in it. Having the Black Cloaked Envoy, the perfect Professor Shen of all people as a romantic rival! She would have been doomed, even if Zhao Yunlan had liked her back.

He’d never liked her like that.

“And now?” asked Li Qian.

Zhu Hong let out a sigh. “Honestly, now I just wish they were both here.” Zhao Yunlan slouching around the Special Investigation Department in his ripped jeans, teasing everyone and protecting them and the city with his courage and wits; Shen Wei advising him, working and fighting at his side. Zhu Hong wrinkled her nose and added, grudgingly, “Shen Wei was good for him, made him happy.”

Li Qian picked up her glass, then put it down again untouched. “This is a secret,” she said in a low voice. “You can’t tell anyone.”

Zhu Hong nodded.

“If I can complete Professor Shen’s research successfully, I’m hoping that when we re-establish contact with Dixing, I can use it to negotiate borrowing one or more of the Hallows for research purposes.”

Zhu Hong kept her voice down too. “What kind of research?”

A strange, fierce expression crossed Li Qian’s face. “I’m going to reach through time and rescue Professor Shen.”

Zhu Hong bit back a gasp. She knew Li Qian had used the Longevity Dial to save her grandmother from dying; she understood the Hallows in a way few people did, perhaps even had an affinity for them, but even so—reaching across to the other side, bringing people back? Zhu Hong’s mind reeled. “Is that possible?”

“I owe him my life—him and Chief Zhao. Whatever I can do to repay that debt, I have to try.” Li Qian said it so surely that Zhu Hong believed without question she would manage it, even if it took her a lifetime. She had a research lab and the diplomatic weight of the Department of Supervision behind her. If anyone could negotiate with Dixing, it was her, and if anyone could bring them back—

Without thinking, Zhu Hong reached across the table for her hand and squeezed it. “If I can do anything to help, anything at all—”

“I’ll tell you. Thank you.” Li Qian squeezed back, warm, capable and Human.

Zhu Hong realised with a start that they were holding hands in full view of the waitstaff and other diners, and that Li Qian might interpret that in a way Zhu Hong didn’t intend. She pulled away under the guise of picking up her chopsticks. “This food is so good!”

Li Qian dropped her gaze and resumed eating too. After a moment, she looked up again, her expression serious. “Zhu Hong, I hope we can still be friends.”

It was obvious what she meant, that she’d noticed Zhu Hong’s self-consciousness. For a moment Zhu Hong felt small and ashamed of her reaction. She resolved to do better and offered an apologetic smile. “Yes,” she said. “Yes, of course.”

4.

The morning sunlight slowly stretched and shifted along Zhu Hong’s bedroom wall. She lay in bed, watching it and wishing she didn’t have to go to work.

It had been three days since her dinner with Li Qian, and she couldn’t stop thinking about the things Li Qian had said: her decision to find Zhao Yunlan and Shen Wei and bring them back, her research into Dixing powers, her liking women.

Those three threads kept coiling together, twisting around, along with the way Li Qian’s eyes lit up when she was passionate about something, and how clever she was, and kind and ready to help, and her perfect manners with the elders, and her pretty yellow dress. How she never made Zhu Hong feel different or self-conscious about being a Snake. The way talking with Li Qian pushed her to question the limits she’d set on herself, and how when Li Qian smiled, it always made her smile too, made her happy.

I hope we can be friends, Li Qian had said.

Zhu Hong rolled over to bury her face in her pillow and groaned. Not again! Her skin itched, like it wanted to slough off.

After another ten minutes of hiding from reality, she turned off her electric blanket and forced herself out of bed, dressed and went to work. And ten hours later she went to visit Fourth Uncle, who made tea and listened to what she wanted and then told her Ya Qing was the best person to help.

So Zhu Hong reluctantly went to see Ya Qing. She still found Ya Qing intimidating, still harboured some resentment at her siding with Ye Zun against the SID and all of Haixing, but Ya Qing had changed, especially now she was weakened from the illness and couldn’t transform into her Crow form. She was quieter, more thoughtful, and Zhu Hong knew she was grateful the Crow children had escaped the effects of the virus thanks to Li Qian’s vaccine. She even smiled when she found Zhu Hong on her doorstep, and it wasn’t one of her scary smiles.


*


Zhu Hong met Li Qian the next day in Riverside Park. It was Saturday, and the park was full of couples and families. A group of students sat under a tree arguing about political theory. The sun shone brightly, making up for the cool breeze.

Li Qian was wearing jeans and a plain white sweater, and Zhu Hong, who had spent more than half an hour deciding what to wear, had a moment’s conviction that her red dress and high-heeled boots were ridiculous for a simple meeting in the park. But she shook it off and waved a greeting.

Li Qian’s gaze took in Zhu Hong’s clothes, but she didn’t say anything, just smiled back in a perfectly friendly way. “I’m glad you texted. How are you?”

“I have something for you.” They sat on a park bench overlooking the river, and Zhu Hong weighed the velvet pouch in her hand for a moment before giving it to Li Qian.

Without looking inside, Li Qian raised her eyebrows at Zhu Hong.

“It’s a protection charm.”

Then Li Qian tipped the bracelet into her palm and held it up in the sunlight, angling it curiously. “Oh, it’s pretty.”

“Ya Qing made it.” Zhu Hong grinned at Li Qian’s expression. “I know, I was expecting something black and spiky, but she said pink quartz was best.”

The stone seemed to glow. Li Qian lowered it again, traced the symbols with her fingertip, looking pleased. “Thank you. Tell her thank you from me.”

“I wanted to help.” Zhu Hong looked at the stone in Li Qian’s hands. Ya Qing had said it would be most effective if given with open, sincere intent. “I mean, I wanted to make sure you were safe. If you’re researching Dixing powers, you must be exposed to dark energy. This should counter the worst of the effects.”

Li Qian wound the waxed cord around her forefinger. “Does it have to be worn as a bracelet to work?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know how it works.” Zhu Hong felt a flash of embarrassment for the old ways of her people. “You’re a scientist. I shouldn’t have given you a charm—it’s stupid.” She tried to take it back, but Li Qian held on tight.

“Not knowing how something works doesn’t mean it’s not effective. Science can’t explain everything yet.” She gently pushed Zhu Hong’s hands away. “I only asked how to wear it because in the lab I try to keep my wrists clear. I have to wear long gloves for some of our experiments.”

Zhu Hong was still embarrassed. “You can wear it however you want.” She’d check with Ya Qing to make sure, but she thought as long as it was kept close to the body, it would work. She tucked her hands under her legs and stared at the river. “And while you’re continuing your research, I’ll work with the SID and the Yashou Tribes to re-establish contact with Dixing, so you can negotiate to borrow the Hallows.”

“Oh. How will you—”

“There used to be an access way in the Yashou restricted area. Maybe we can open it again.”

“Thank you, Hong-jie, really.” Li Qian sounded hopeful and grateful and excited, and Zhu Hong couldn’t look at her. Not without revealing how affected she was by the endearment.

“We can do this, if we all work together. We can bring them back,” she said.

“Oh.” There was a different quality to this oh, like a quiet realisation, and Zhu Hong stole a glance and saw Li Qian watching her with a knowing expression, as if she thought Zhu Hong was offering to help solely so she could bring Zhao Yunlan back.

Well, she partly was, but not like that. Not for herself. The truth was that being interested in someone else made her feel disloyal to Lao Zhao’s memory. How could you stop liking someone just because they were dead? Even if she knew he would have wanted her to move on, it would be easier if he and Shen Wei came back. Better for everyone. How it should have been.

A breeze ruffled the surface of the river, and Li Qian was waiting for her to speak. Zhu Hong’s stomach cramped nervously, and she felt a flash of impatience with herself. Why even have feelings if she couldn’t do anything about them?

“There’s something else I need to say.” She wasn’t going to like anyone one-sidedly again. She’d just ask, and if she was rejected, she’d find a way to stop caring. Somehow. “Friendship is a valuable thing, and I will try to be your friend if that’s what you want, but first I need to tell you that I like you. I hope you won’t feel burdened.” She was talking too fast, babbling.

Li Qian touched her arm, just two fingertips grazing the skin above Zhu Hong’s wrist.

“I think you’re really impressive,” blurted Zhu Hong. “And cool.”

Li Qian laughed, sounding breathless. “No one has ever thought I was cool before, ever.” Her fingertips slid to the inside of Zhu Hong’s wrist and traced a mesmerising line up to her palm. Zhu Hong held her breath, and the next minute they were holding hands, their fingers laced together. “I like you too,” said Li Qian. “Didn’t you know, Hong-jie? I thought I was really obvious.”

“I—” Zhu Hong felt suddenly weightless with happiness. She wrapped her other hand around the knot of their fingers, holding on tight so Li Qian couldn’t take it back. “The only people who’ve ever liked me are the boys from the Snake Tribe. I didn’t know anyone else could.”

“Well, I do.”

Zhu Hong finally summoned the courage to look at her properly. Li Qian was pink cheeked and her eyes were bright and warm. She looked even prettier than usual, and it made Zhu Hong desperately want to kiss her. Why on earth had she suggested they meet out here in public with so many people around?

Li Qian’s gaze dropped to Zhu Hong’s mouth, as if she were thinking the same thing, and her blush deepened. “Come on, let’s walk.”

They walked along the path by the river, their fingers still entwined, and no one seemed to notice, even though Zhu Hong felt like her whole body was pulsing with awareness, and her hand was burning in Li Qian’s grasp. Burning in a good way. Li Qian was grinning, as if she were so happy she couldn’t contain herself, and Zhu Hong felt it too, and when they reached the trees, she pulled Li Qian off the path and behind the broad trunk of a tree where no one would see them.

Li Qian leaned back against the bark and bit her lip, her eyelashes sweeping down for a moment, then up again. “Have you ever kissed a girl before?”

Zhu Hong had never kissed anyone. “Have you ever kissed a Snake?”

“Hong-jie.” Li Qian put her hands on Zhu Hong’s waist, or maybe Zhu Hong was the one who moved closer first. It was hard to keep track, nerves and desire making her mouth dry. With unsteady fingers, she touched Li Qian’s collarbone, where it peeked above the neckline of the soft white sweater, then slid her hand up to curve around Li Qian’s neck and leaned in and kissed her mouth. Zhu Hong’s blood fizzed, starting at her toes and rising to her shoulders, up her neck and to the top of her head. It was almost the same feeling as shifting forms, natural, fluid and exhilarating, but she didn’t shift, just pressed closer, and Li Qian’s arms came up around her and held her tight. Zhu Hong made a sound in her throat, somewhere between a hum and a hiss, and Li Qian didn’t flinch or tense. If anything she seemed to melt against her more.

Zhu Hong pulled back and looked at her: she was breathing hard, a faint crease between her eyebrows, and there was a leaf in her hair. She tightened her grip on Zhu Hong’s waist, and Zhu Hong pulled the leaf free and smoothed her hair.

She’d never expected this for herself, to fall for a woman, but everything about it felt right, and she wasn’t going to let it go. Between them, they’d overcome whatever obstacles arose. Between them, they could do anything. The past was the past, but together, Zhu Hong was sure they could shape the future into something amazing.


END