Chapter Text
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At forty-four minutes past nine in the evening, Min Zhao, architect for the city council, drove his Forthing SX6 SUV across the Sanqiao Bridge that linked the east side to the west side of town. The police knew the exact time because the highway cameras had picked him up at that point. Despite the rain and the poor visibility, the image enhancement of keyframes clearly showed that Min Zhao was alone in the car.
He was driving a touch too fast, and with the rush hour behind him, there was always some driver who felt like he was the next Batman. Zhao had turned left at a roundabout to join the loop of road that curved around the service station and headed from one of the richest neighbourhoods in town to the main hospital of the area. Min Zhao was in a hurry because his wife had just given birth, and the entire family was waiting for his arrival.
But there was a tricky intersection nearby where traffic coming off the motorway slip road crossed the traffic coming across the bridge. To prevent accidents, the entire area was controlled by meticulously timed traffic lights. But that night, Min Zhao didn’t have time or patience. He was in a hurry and thought he had taken a calculated risk when he pressed the gas pedal. He had been so focused on keeping a legal speed that he had probably not even noticed the lights.
A 20 BMW i8 came up the motorway slip road at around fifty-five miles an hour. The light was in its favour, and the car regularly continued bearing left. It was halfway across the intersection when it was hit by Min Zhao’s SUV on the side of the front driver’s door. Later on, the police determined that neither car had slowed or taken evasive measures prior to the crash; thus, the drivers had not even been aware of each other due to the darkness and rainy conditions.
The impact drove the BMW onto the grassy verge and into the crash barrier, where it stopped almost immediately. The SUV, travelling at almost twice the speed, had spun several times before rolling over and tumbled to crash into the line of trees further along. Min Zhao’s life had almost been spared, if not for the tumble that made both his seatbelt and airbag fail, and he was thrown against the roof and broke his neck.
The driver of the BMW was still breathing when the first officer in attendance arrived at the scene. It was a young woman, not even in her mid-twenties who had been on a solo patrol less than a kilometre to the south. Despite the rain and worsening weather conditions, she had been at the scene in less than two minutes. But this was her first traffic accident, and the adrenaline was running high and fast.
Parking her car in the ‘fend off’ position, she quickly turned the lightbar, headlamps and hazard lights on. She rushed first to the BMW to discover the driver groggy but responsive, but found Min Zhao limp and very much dead. Shivering and drenched, she did a quick sweep of the area with the torch to make sure no other passengers had been thrown into the bushes along the verge, then went back to the driver of the BMW to see if she could help.
Broken pieces of glass, blood smears and splatter glistened under her flashlight before being washed away by the heavy rain. There wasn’t enough blood, but it was enough to make her concerned. She quickly ran the plate number to discover it belonged to a twenty-five-year-old rich kid, He Tian. Usually, these sorts of brats caused accidents, but now the rich kid had been a victim.
By the time she finished all she could do to help keep He Tian alive, the traffic police and the ambulances had rolled up the scene, stuffed full of barriers, warning lights and enough reflective signs to set up a second airport runway. While the police quickly isolated the lane and got the traffic safely moving again, the paramedics fussed over He Tian, but things looked grim.
Watching the scene unfold, the young policewoman sighed to herself, shivering under the cold rain. Maybe it was the shock, or maybe the adrenaline was wearing off, but a dreadful feeling washed over her. She would find out only hours later that Min Zhao, an architect for the city council, was never going to see his son or wife. And He Tian, the son of one of the richest men in the county, was never going to see the light of day—ever again.
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It would take less than a bit of mystery to praise He Cheng, the head of the He-Corp, out of his nice warm bed. So when Qiu, his lover and right hand, answered his phone instead of him and jumped out of their bed as though something had burnt him, Cheng knew that Tian was in trouble. He Cheng was alerted about He Tian’s accident when the responsive officer ran He Tian’s number plate through the system and warned the dispatcher about the accident.
The Hes had enough resources to keep their eye on the young rascal who, for the past six years, had been dating nothing other than a vampire. But that was now part of the Hes unknown and very secret history. Publicly vampires did not exist, but like the Hes, there were those who knew about them. The known factions would either hunt them or hide them, and the Hes were the latter, and that was because Mo Guan Shan, a two-thousand-year-old vampire - decided to fall for the young He Tian. But his feelings had been as much a decision as He Cheng’s feelings for Qiu—surprising, sudden, but ever so lasting.
With Mo fighting to keep He Tian alive from the claws of another vampire at the cost of his own life, the rules had changed for He Cheng. He had realised that making an enemy out of Mo would have been one of his biggest mistakes. His brother, He Tian, disliked him enough to be ready to leave with Mo and disappear completely. But by allowing the two to just be, He Cheng could keep He Tian under his surveillance, if not control. Yet ‘allowing’ was a big word because, even if he didn’t like to admit it, he did not allow Mo shit. Mo simply played along, or - more likely - indulged him.
Luckily Mo was not unreasonable, but due to his nature, he cared little about anything else that didn’t concern He Tian. It was as though his existence revolved around He Tian. He Cheng had never understood that, and Mo didn’t care much to explain either. But apparently, the heart of an immortal was less prone to ‘wavering’ feelings. Once they settled on someone, they would not love someone else.
Then there was also something that sounded like fairy-tale bull shit and the ‘chosen’ one, but it all came down to some science He Cheng could not care to comprehend and perfect chemistry, and somehow, He Tian and Mo had found that in each other. Though, He Cheng could not fault Mo even if most times he wanted to. He hated that Tian had been dragged into that mess, that they had been dragged into it, yet, it was better to know the truth than be oblivious to it. Just as Mo had found Tian, any other vampire could have. Tian was not spared of that threat or any other threat just because he or all of them did not know about it. Like this, they at least had an ally in the shape of Mo.
And Mo had been more than understanding and even managed to convince Tian in matters Cheng could not. Tian still had two options, remain a mortal or become a vampire, and until he decided on the latter, Mo was ready to give him the world. Maybe it was a way to experience everything he had missed for all those two thousand years of life to himself, but to Cheng, the important part was that Tian had the option, and Mo had never backed down on his word… though there were exceptions to the rules they had all agreed to once.
He Cheng did not know why he was thinking about all that. Probably because part of him wanted to scream at Mo, at He Tian’s immortal, all-powerful boyfriend. Where had he been when Tian had the accident? Where was he when Tian was probably struggling? Why did the accident happen in the first place? Was this another stupid plot from one of Mo’s ‘old fellows’ to get his attention? And those exceptions to the rules frightened Cheng but also felt like hope in the darkness. The police had refused to give him any information about Tian, which meant it was bad enough that they could not tell what would happen to Tian.
By the time He Cheng and Qiu were rushing down the hospital hallways, two of their men were already there to inform them that Tian was actually in the middle of an emergency surgery. When Cheng stopped in front of the closed doors, Mo was there, looking like a wild beast, eyes flaring and not letting anyone go near him. The four stared in silence for a moment then Cheng turned towards his two men.
“Keep the nurses and the doctors away,” he commanded and his men nodded.
“Sir…,” one of them started speaking, “any specific story we should feed them if they ask about…,” and his eyes briefly moved to Mo.
His anger made him look clearly inhuman, his eyes eerily alight as though they were brimming with the rage he was feeling. And as the two men turned to leave, He Cheng charged towards Mo. He grabbed him by the collar of the jacket and violently pushed him against the wall. Mo’s hand grabbed his arm, and with a swift move, twisted it behind his back, slamming Cheng hard against the wall. A beastly growl came from him, and his grip on Cheng tightened, making his joints snap. He suddenly felt the barrel of a gun glued to his temple, and still holding Cheng down, he turned his head.
Qiu was next to him, gun in his hand and pointing, ready to shoot any moment. “Play nice!” he said as calmly as possible. “It’s mercury; it won’t kill you but it will give you a hell of a headache,” he said, but Mo didn’t seem to care. “I said, play nice!” Qiu repeated, and Mo heard the click of the safety go off.
“Where the fuck were you?” Cheng hissed, and suddenly Mo blinked.
It was as though whatever had possessed him had gone, and he took a step back, releasing Cheng. Straightening up, Cheng drew in a deep breath and massaged his limp arm. Qiu slowly lowered his gun, but Cheng was not done. He took a step forward, and his fist slammed hard into Mo’s jaw. It did nothing more than make him mildly turn his head as though he had merely been slapped. Then Mo turned his head and cooly looked at him.
“Are you done?” he asked, and He Cheng grunted angrily.
He felt like punching Mo again, him or the wall, but this time Qiu grabbed his arm and pulled him back.
“Enough,” Qiu raised his tone, holstering the gun under his jacket. “You know it’s not his fault,” he said, and Cheng snatched his hand away.
“Then who’s fault is it?” Cheng muttered, glaring at Mo.
“The other driver’s, sir…,” someone said, and everyone turned their heads.
They were all staring at a young woman, rain still dripping off her reflective gear. She was the officer who had been first at the scene, responding to the call. She looked fearful now, her eyes nervously darting between the three men who seem to tower around her. None looked kind, and they all seemed to want to snap her neck.
“Where is the other driver?” Mo suddenly asked, and the young woman swallowed hard.
His voice reverberated eerily in her ears. It was as though she could feel the hate Mo had for the other man. She could taste his words somehow, all laced with venom, and him merely speaking could poison her. She took a step back and suddenly felt like running away. But Mo’s eyes bizarrely shimmered, and she could not move anymore. Panic swelled in her chest, and she regretted coming to the hospital to check on things. She opened her mouth to ask for help, a nurse, security, anyone, but no sound came out, and Mo was still glaring.
Then suddenly, someone moved in her field of vision, and she was staring at Qiu. Her knees suddenly gave in, but she felt herself being picked up and supported by Qiu. He forced her to walk closer to the waiting chairs, then set her down. She turned her head and fearfully looked in Mo’s direction but saw Cheng gently push the redhead away from her. When Mo’s eyes finally lowered, it was as though a spell had been lifted, and she could breathe again.
“Are you the officer who responded to the call?” Qiu asked, and his tone and voice seemed softer than his face.
Swallowing hard, the girl nodded before she could speak, her eyes darting to Mo again.
“Is he—?” she asked, wanting to ask something about Mo, but Qiu snapped his fingers, and she flinched as though she had snapped out of a dream.
“We are all very tense tonight,” Qiu said, and he was supposed to smile when he said that, but no such thing happened.
“I’m sorry,” the young officer swallowed hard.
“What can you tell me?” Qiu asked and sat down on the chair next to her.
“Not much…,” she tried to evade the conversation, realising she was not supposed to say a word, especially to civilians. In fact, she had been advised to go home, but she had chosen to come to the hospital, and now it all spelt trouble.
“Rest assured, officer,” Qiu said calmly, “whatever you tell us will stay with us,” he added, and briefly looked towards Cheng.
“Is that Mister He Cheng?” the officer asked, and Qiu nodded.
“Yes, he is the victim’s brother,” he added, and the young woman made a small, desperate sound before plonking her face in her hands. Everyone knew who the Hes were; of all traffic accidents she had to show up at the one that had one of the Hes involved.
“I don’t want to lose my job,” she suddenly said and wanted to stand up and leave, hoping that the man beside her had enough sympathy to let her go.
“One question,” Qiu insisted as he watched her stand up.
“And that is, sir?” she stopped and swallowed hard.
“Where is the other driver?” he asked, and that calm in his voice switched to a sudden rigid coolness that made her shudder once more.
That question was pointless unless the three men were planning to take matters into their own hands; and looking at them, the officer knew they were more than capable of that. Maybe it was a mercy that the guy had died already. Slowly her face changed as she understood what that question meant, and her eyes darted to Mo once more. He stood with his back turned against her, but his head was tilted as though he could listen in to their conversation, even from that distance.
Looking back at Qiu, she finally sighed, “Dead, sir,” she answered and with that, she turned and rushed away down the hallway, not even looking back.
Watching her leave, Qiu stood up, eyes on Cheng and Mo. “You two made up?” he asked, and Cheng averted his gaze but nodded. “Good, so… did she tell the truth?” Qiu continued, and both ] he and Cheng looked at Mo.
“It was just a car accident,” Mo said, his nostrils flaring, obviously not pleased that there would be no one to pay for the harm done to Tian.
Hearing Cheng, Qiu’s jaws clenched. So there was going to be a lot of anger and no one to redirect it on but themselves. With a sigh, as though he knew the chaos that would cause, Qiu looked towards the operating room. “And how’s Tian?” he dared, knowing that Mo was not going to speak if not asked.
“Dying,” he replied, and Qiu saw Cheng’s anger flare.