#dazun

 Ye Zun saw his brother hesitate, then nod almost imperceptibly. “But we have to go inside, regardless if it really is a trap,” he finished, and the rest of the small group nodded their agreement as well.

 With a sigh, Zhao Yunlan turned towards the open doors when a hand on his shoulder made him pause. Shen Wei tightened his grip, then stepped in front of him, his guandao raised in a defensive stance. Zhao Yunlan followed half a step behind him, the other two falling into step side by side. Da Qing gave Ye Zun a complicated look, his mouth opening and closing again, then turned his head to face the path ahead. Ye Zun followed suit.

 If the incident at the Palace gate really had been a deception to lull them into safety, then what followed certainly followed the same pattern: Every gateway they reached opened without delay, be it wood or iron lattice door, sliding screen or trapdoor, and the guards, if present, dropped their weapons immediately and knelt down, opening the passage.

 It made them feel on edge, and by the time they made it into the inner Palace, Ye Zun felt the hairs at the back of his neck stand up. Yet another door opened with a creak, revealing what looked like a large study, and before Ye Zun had time to think further on why that room seemed familiar, Shen Wei had already stepped in. The rest of the group followed, but almost collided with each other when Shen Wei suddenly froze mid-step, his guandao half raised.

 Opposite them, in front of a large wooden desk, stood the Regent.

 If asked later, Ye Zun wouldn’t have been able to tell how long the staring match lasted, probably only a few seconds, but in that moment it felt endless. Nobody moved for a few heartbeats, until the Regent recovered first. He turned around to grab something from the desk, then retreated behind it while shouting for his guards. Interestingly, nothing happened: no hasty footsteps, no clinking of weapons, the Palace an almost eerie quiet.

 Shen Wei took a step towards the man, guandao now raised, a threatening aura surrounding him. Ye Zun had to suppress a shudder as a memory surfaced, another place, another time, his brother raising a weapon towards.... No, no, this was not the time. He shook his head slightly, turning his attention back to the scene in front of him.

 Suddenly, a movement in the corner of his vision startled him, and he turned to Da Qing, only to see the bag with the Hallows twist violently, as if it contained a living creature. Da Qing hastily let it go as the movement grew stronger, the bag emitting a strange humming sound. The thing the Regent had been clutching to his chest responded in kind – Ye Zun now realised this was the Seal – and began humming as well, the sound even lower and vibrating in the air like a miniature earthquake. With a yelp of surprise he let it go, watching with wide eyes as it returned to the open bag. The bag trembled a few times, then, as if the life had left it, dropped to the ground in front of Da Qing’s feet, who snatched it and flung it back over his shoulder with a strange expression on his face.

 In the following silence Zhao Yunlan’s voice sounded significantly less chipper than usual as he said, “Well, wasn’t that odd?”

 With an inhuman screech, the Regent turned towards the bag, long fingers opening and closing like claws, making Da Qing retreat behind Ye Zun and Shen Wei step into his path. “Give it back, you thieves, give it back! It belongs to the palace, it’s mine! Give it back!” The words came out garbled, his voice sounding not even human anymore. Ye Zun shuddered.

 Before anyone could react, Shen Wei apparently had had enough. He took a step forward, bringing his guandao down in one smooth motion, hitting the Regent squarely over the head with the blunt end. The man collapsed without a sound.

 Seeing everyone’s eyes on him, Shen Wei just gave a tiny shrug, then nodded his chin towards the door. Zhao Yunlan blinked a few times, then snorted a laugh, nodding in agreement.

- - - - -

 All things considered, An Bai looked positively elated when they delivered the Regent to his quarters, bound and gagged and still unconscious. He did raise an eyebrow at first, but since no one felt like explaining, he didn’t ask further.

 With a smile that looked a bit forced, Zhao Yunlan waved away each and all questions directed at them and proceeded to usher them into the small room they had stayed in earlier. Closing the door behind him, he looked over his assembled team, then plopped down onto a stool with a heavy sigh.

 “What was that?”, he intonated, looking from each team member to the next, ending at Shen Wei, as if any of them had any more answers.

 Shen Wei tilted his head, the closest he ever came to a shrug, but said nothing. Ye Zun glanced at Da Qing, but the cat busied himself with the Hallows, which they had brought back with them.

 Finally Zhu Hong had enough. She marched towards Zhao Yunlan, hovering threateningly in front of him.

 “What was what, Chief?” She demanded, “Spit it out already.”

 With another long-suffering sigh Zhao Yunlan complied, not without another look at Shen Wei. After he concluded his report, the room fell silent.

 “That...,” Chu Shuzhi began, the same moment as Zhu Hong hummed, sounding thoughtful.

 “Yeah,” Zhao Yunlan agreed. “What the fuck.”

 Ye Zun felt a headache forming behind his temples.

 “Perhaps,” Shen Wei said, slowly, as if testing the theory, “it was the Seal.” After a look at the others’ confused expressions, he continued. “It can influence people in its close vicinity. So maybe it...,” he grimaced, “      sensed     that the Regent was not acting in favour of the people and it.. intervened somehow?”

 Zhao Yunlan had turned towards him as he spoke, nodding along with the explanation. “That’s as good an idea as any,” he said eventually, “but what’s more important, what are we gonna do now?”

- - - - -

 The next weeks passed in a blur of meetings, discussions, negotiations and more meetings. Ye Zun had despised those even before he had gotten roped into helping, but now that he couldn’t get away, his slight distaste had turned into simmering rage. For a brief moment, in the days after the Regent’s defeat, it had seemed as if everything was going smoothly, An Bai being chosen as the new – and old – king and everyone else too happy with the resuming connection between Dixing and Haixing to make much trouble.

 But mice and men and all that, Ye Zun thought bitterly as he slouched a bit further down in his uncomfortable stone chair. He still didn’t quite understand why his brother – and half of Dixing apparently – had insisted he get a seat in the new-founded council, but here he was, casting desperate glances at Shen Wei, which were readily ignored. Da Qing, also slouched in a chair, but somehow managing to make it look elegant instead of bored, flashed him a toothy smile when he caught his gaze, but otherwise didn’t move. It had been decided that every remaining Yashou tribe had to send a representative, and with Da Qing being the last – known – member of the Cat Tribe, that dubious honour had gone to him.

 So, almost the whole SID team had found their way into that council: Zhu Hong as Yashou Chief, Da Qing, Zhao Yunlan in his role as Lord Guardian, alongside Shen Wei and Ye Zun, both acting as envoys for Dixing interests on the surface. That was a recent development, and as happy as Ye Zun was to spend more time with his brother, he never in his life would have guessed it would come in the form of poring over contracts and discussing trade routes.

 But then, he wasn’t really complaining. This, at last, had been what he had always wanted for his home – to become a place of pride once more, somewhere you could return to that would welcome you with love and warmth and open arms. A notion that he shared with Chu Shuzhi, of all people, who over the last weeks had dragged a wide-eyed Xiao Guo through what looked like all of Dixing’s streets and markets and alleys, telling him his stories and listening to the locals telling theirs.

 It was peaceful, Ye Zun mused, as he tuned out yet another speech about the importance of a steady flow of resources into Dixing – he agreed, but why did they have to explain their thoughts in so many words?? – and instead turned to watch Da Qing. His cat was slouched in his chair, arms on the heavy conference table, his chin resting on his forearms, as he visibly tried – and failed – to keep his eyes open. Ye Zun had to suppress a chuckle. He looked adorable with his mussed hair and droopy eyes, and when he moved a bit Ye Zun could see the dark red mark on the other’s neck he had left there in the morning. He suppressed another laugh and shot a tiny tendril of dark energy across the table, barely noticeable, just enough to make Da Qing bolt upright, startling the one sitting next to him.

 Ye Zun grinned at him. That, too, was a recent development. One morning, he had woken up feeling buzzing with energy, and when he had moved his hand to stroke Da Qing’s hair, they both had discovered that this was to be taken literally: Dark energy was coiling in his palm, as if it had never left. After the initial elation, and a few experiments, they had decided to wait before telling the others. For now, it was their secret, and Ye Zun revelled in having that part of him back.

 Life was good, he thought, as he grinned at Da Qing over the table.

- - - - -