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Mo Ran couldn’t believe his luck had finally pulled through. In all the years with the agency, he hadn’t been able to successfully finagle his way into a mission working with Chu Wanning. The man always had a flimsy reason to excuse himself at the last minute or would declare he preferred working alone only, it seemed, when Mo Ran was involved. Mo Ran couldn’t figure out why he seemed to hate him so much. Sure, he goofed off a bit, and maybe he flirted with more witnesses than he should, but he always solved his cases. (And he usually did his own paperwork, too)
Chu Wanning was the most attractive man Mo Ran had ever seen. He remembered his first day at the agency, meeting the lead he’d be working under…for…god he wished he was working underneath him in other ways though. Since then, his mind had revolved around Chu Wanning 24/7. Mo Ran was certain he’d make a fool of himself or expose his obsession in some way, but it was worth it to be in such close proximity for so long. He would do anything to have such a grasp on the man’s attention. And to see him solve the case and help people. Of course that was much more important, Mo Ran reminded himself.
They were going to be undercover for a month or so on a mission for which Chu Wanning was struggling to find a reason to work on without Mo Ran. Chu Wanning knew that on paper, and even in real life, Mo Ran and him were the right pair for the job. He had already used up all his best excuses to avoid missions where he would be alone with Mo Ran, and anything he came up with now would sound positively ridiculous. They should be doing this together. Mo Ran was admittedly brilliant, though he hid it behind a dumb jock mirage. He was a natural flirt, something that would help overcome Chu Wanning’s opposite personality to give an illusion of them having chemistry, being a happy couple.
Chu Wanning was secretly overjoyed at the opportunity, though nervous. He could pretend it was all for the job. Maybe he could even pretend Mo Ran wasn’t acting.
Going undercover as a newly married couple, buying a house in a suspicious gated community, all to weasel their way into the trusted inner circle of a person of interest- they would certainly need to be a believable couple…
Chu Wanning is snapped out of his shameless thoughts just in time by Mo Ran knocking lightly at his door frame.
“Shi… no,I guess you’re basically my wife now- baobei? Are you ready to go?”
- Writer #1
Chu Wanning goes rigid in his seat. His chest squeezes uncomfortably, Mo Ran’s pet name hitting a little too close for comfort. It is a dangerous fantasy to entertain, and one that Chu Wanning needs to be hypervigilant about if he intends to survive the next few weeks.
Chu Wanning glowers at Mo Ran whose cheerful smile doesn’t waver in the slightest.
“Have you-”
“Yep!” Mo Ran chirps, cutting Chu Wanning off before he can finish. “The car’s all ready for us downstairs. We’re set to meet the movers at the house at noon. I figured I can drive, and you can quiz me on our cover story on the way over.”
He winks and gives a wiggle of the manila envelope he holds in one hand that mirrors the one in Chu Wanning’s briefcase. The bright red ‘CONFIDENTIAL’ stamp on the outside feels akin to a warning.
Chu Wanning grits his teeth and swallows down the last vestiges of anxiety simmering in his stomach. He is a professional, as is Mo Ran. They will do their jobs and remain focused on the task at hand. Nothing untoward will happen-not if he can help it.
“Very well. Go collect the car. I will meet you in the garage shortly. There are a few things I need to finish up here first.”
Mo Ran accepts the clear dismissal, leaving Chu Wanning with a small smile that is little more than an upturned quirk of his lips before he disappears from the doorway.
Chu Wanning lets out a breath that he had not realized he had been holding. He presses two fingers to his temple where it has gently begun to throb.
He has dismantled criminal networks from the inside-out with cool and practiced ease, has reduced grown men to tears with nothing more than the sheer force of his stony, unflinching gaze. Though he finds no joy in murder, he is nevertheless no stranger to the occasional necessity of killing.
Two hours spent in a car with Mo Ran is nothing he can’t handle.
-
When Chu Wanning makes his way down to the sublevel of the building, it only takes one look at Mo Ran-leaning casually against the door of their unobtrusive, agency-provided sedan with his hands in his pockets and sleeves rolled up to the elbows-for his stony resolve to waver infinitesimally.
Even from a distance, Chu Wanning can see the well-defined muscles of Mo Ran’s forearms. His skin is a lush, tawny bronze where it peeks out from the crisp white of his dress shirt. Since Chu Wanning has always done his best to avoid working with Mo Ran in the field, the casual glimpse of skin is enough to set his nerves buzzing afresh.
Mo Ran is making easy conversation with the attendant-Shi Mei, if Chu Wanning’s memory serves him. His beauty is softly radiant, even in the harshly artificial lighting of the garage. The young man looks up at Mo Ran through long, dark lashes, his lips pursed in barely concealed amusement at whatever is being said.
Chu Wanning thinks bitterly that it would make more sense for the two of them to be going on this mission instead of him. In every way, Shi Mei is a more believable partner. His gentle feminine features pair unquestioningly well with Mo Ran’s masculine vitality. They make a beautiful couple, with Shi Mei being soft in all the places where Chu Wanning is not.
He tries and fails not to imagine how well Shi Mei’s smooth, pale skin would bend and give way without resistance to the hard planes of Mo Ran’s body. His hands ball into tight fists at his sides as he forces himself to keep walking.
“Baobei!” Mo Ran calls over to him, and Chu Wanning’s stomach tightens at the obvious humor alight in his eyes.
Mo Ran might be treating this as a joke, but Chu Wanning is determined not to let himself be affected by it.
“Let’s go, Mo Ran. We have a schedule to stick to,” he bites out, barely looking Mo Ran’s way.
Chu Wanning gives Shi Mei a terse nod of acknowledgement and then slips into the passenger seat. If he slams the door a little more than is strictly necessary, that is no one’s business but his own.
- Writer #2
On the way to the forested hill range west of the suburbs, where the expensive luxury residential areas with unobstructed views across the city to the sea were located, Chu Wanning opened the envelope. On top was a recent photo of the Hanxue twins at the housewarming party for their new property in the same gated community that Mo Ran and Chu Wanning were headed to.
The image came from their Instagram account, where the two influencers and internet stars celebrated their luxurious daily lives in exclusive photos in front of their two million followers.
At first glance, this photo was nothing special. Two young men in their twenties, above-average blond and above-average wealthy, were giving the commoners a sneak peek into the world of the rich and beautiful, where one of the expensive crystal glasses from which they sipped their champagne cost more than most people earned in a month.
But the two golden lucky cats that stood innocently in the background on a side table in the living room had pushed some red buttons. They came from a safe located on the property of the managing director of a security technology company. The antique art objects had been in a historical museum until three years ago, from which they had disappeared by unexplained means. The case had been reported and then vanished into obscurity until now.
"What do you think about all this?" asked Mo Ran, his eyes focused on the roadway.
"Interestingly, three departments are involved, and we haven't even determined what we're dealing with."
Chu Wanning superficially flipped through the documents.
"The Gang Crimes Division became involved because of the series of burglaries that had taken place in five villas in the area. Along with jewels and cash, business secrets had been stolen each time."
"So that is why the Industrial Espionage Division fights vehemently to get the supervision of this case?"
"Correct. Though all victims swear sacred oaths, they have not been blackmailed, and no ransom has been paid. In three cases out of five, antiques had been robbed. So Art Robbery is involved too, but it has to be proven that the thieves were interested in historical artifacts, and the missing jewels and antiques were not just by-catch."
"What would you bet the case turns out to be in the end?" asked Mo Ran with a quick sideways glance at his partner to determine what part of the documents he was reviewing.
"At the moment, I'm more interested in how we manage to get in touch with the Hanxue Twins. They must be surrounded by rich couples with exotic professions like an insect lamp is surrounded by moths.".
"Oh, don't worry, Wanning, we have interesting hobbies. I wouldn't be too surprised if an invitation to a party at their place was already waiting in our mailbox."
"Interesting hobbies? What hobbies?" asked Wanning, alarmed.
"We design sexy lingerie for couples. Male couples. And we take pictures of it ... only artistically valuable, of course. The photos are so artsy you don't recognize the people in the photo. Only if you are told beforehand ... or if someone looking strikingly similar is standing right next to one ..."
Wanning made a cute sound, a mixture of being strangled with choking on a kiss.
Just you wait, Mo Ran thought, one day you'll make this sound for me, and it won't be in the passenger seat of a car when I have both hands on the steering wheel and my eyes on the road.
Wanning stared over at his partner in shock and disbelief.
"Please tell me you didn't tell people I was designing underwear."
"Actually, the backstory says I'm the designer, and you are my muse and model."
"I'm in photos ... naked? How? I did not …"
"Oh no, your double is wearing something, but believe me: the photos would be less scandalous if this other you were naked. When we started circulating the Photoshop images - of course, only to create a believable backstory - we got several high-paid offers to work for certain clubs. Our boss is concerned we will switch jobs because we could earn much more in the entertainment district."
Mo Ran cast an encouragingly cheeky glance over at his partner.
No sound came from the passenger seat for a long time.
"Why was there nothing about any of this in our manual?"
"There may have been some accident, and the part about our hobbies was missing until I realized it this morning and put it back in."
"Was there anything else missing that miraculously reappeared today?"
"The house plan, maybe?"
Chu Wanning made another of these cute sounds while he shifted through the paper until he found what he was looking for.
"This house is so big, why can I see only one bedroom? There surely must be a mistake in the plan?"
"It's one of those modern lifestyle villas for couples with quadruple income, no kids. Spacious living room, kitchen, bath, home office, master bedroom, pool, fitness room, and outdoor chill area."
Mo Ran was now enjoying taking his partner with the shock-frozen virginity for a ride.
"Just wait until you see the gallery wall in the hallway up to the bedroom where all our artistically valuable black and white photo prints hang.”
- Writer #3
Chu Wanning couldn’t speak.
It wasn’t even the house that stunned him—even though that in itself was structured and built in the framework of excess that Chu Wanning had come to despise, everything from the shrubbery to the roof tiles screaming of having more money than one could do with. His skin crawled. Going undercover as something he loathed was no stranger to him, but it still unsettled him. Each disguise wanted to pick away at the Chu Wanning at the center of them, at his core. Wanted to carve into his morals and beliefs until he became uncertain in them, until he forgot them.
Until he began to change them.
Chu Wanning dared not look at the gallery photos Mo Ran warned him of, not until everything had been moved into the home and the movers were gone lest he lose his composure, but in the new silence, the emptiness of just him and Mo Ran in this fake home, there was no more escaping it. The pictures hung up along the walls were just like that— lewd displays of a body and face that surely wasn’t Chu Wanning’s. Couldn’t be.
But, standing so close, it was unmistakably him.
Beside him, Mo Ran grinned triumphantly, and he held up an envelope, the fancy cardstock with the invitation written across like pointing fingers.
How many people have seen Chu Wanning like this?
“Ah, baobei—” Chu Wanning bit back against the rise of heat to his face, tipping his head just slightly, imperceptibly, so the burning of his ears was hidden beneath his hair. Mo Ran had gotten far too comfortable with their situation already! Chu Wanning glared. “— ah, hehe, don’t scowl like that, baobei. They look beautiful! And look,” he waved the invitation, shameless in having been right. “We’re already in.”
He wants to snap at him that they had no right! No right to this when he had already agreed to giving up so much else.
…But he knew they did.
A sudden seriousness appeared on Mo Ran’s face. “Wanning, are you alright?”
“Forget it!” Chu Wanning snapped, humiliated. He couldn’t bear it any longer. Turning away sharply, Chu Wanning storms into the bedroom, and tries to slam the door behind him, but Mo Ran’s fingers curl around the door’s edge, keeping it open.
“Wanning—“
Chu Wanning threw open the door, startling Mo Ran into almost stumbling into the room right into Chu Wanning. They’re too close like this, in each other’s space in a way Chu Wanning never allowed. Never could handle.
“Don’t call me that! Did you forget what our situation is, Mo Weiyu?” he hissed, wishing for a moment he could use his hands and not just his words to shove distance between them.
To be this close to Mo Ran and have it be all wrong —
Chu Wanning wants to run, but there’s no way for him to leave.
“Mo Weiyu—!” Go away, leave me.
All the hopes he had are becoming twisted in this game, as if mocking, displaying all the ways the ways reality would never allow him to actually have Mo Ran like this, as his.
Mo Ran falls quiet, a flash of something crossing his face. Chu Wanning can’t read it before it’s gone, can barely perceive it before Mo Ran takes a cautious step back.
As if this house, so large, was suffocating him, too.
“I haven’t,” he murmurs.
And then the doorbell rings.
As one, as if cued, Mo Ran and Chu Wanning compose themselves, faces going carefully passive as they leave the room.
“I’ll keep packing and setting things up,” Chu Wanning murmurs, veering off towards the boxes in the large living room and leaving Mo Ran to answer the door. There’s a window beside him, one that Chu Wanning can see directly onto their entryway from, and he peeks through as he opens the nearest box even though he’d caught the movement of Mo Ran’s hand as he discreetly turned on their surveillance system and his earpiece.
A portly man stands at the doorstep in a glaringly rich suit that could almost seem modest with the way the man seemed to physically humble himself, leaned over as if he may be halfway through bowing. Chu Wanning can’t see his face too well from his position, but still the wide, curving edge of a sickeningly sweet smile is obvious from the side of the man’s face. There’s a covered dish in his hands that he pushes forward the moment the door swings open and, through his own earpiece, Chu Wanning hears:
“Hello! I couldn’t help but notice you moving in and wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood,” he says after Mo Ran greets him. “I’m Nangong Liu, I live a few houses down.”
Chu Wanning expects pleasantries. He expects casual conversation of meaningless camaraderie. What he doesn’t expect is:
“I’ve seen your work! I am impressed— it’s beautiful, truly. The man, that is your husband, yes?”
Mo Ran relaxed against the door jamb, and Chu Wanning can imagine that lazy, self-assured grin that Mo Ran wears when he nods and says, “That’s my Sini.”
He sounds so proud—
Chu Wanning scowls. Mo Ran shouldn’t, it’s fake. They’re colleagues— the thought makes Chu Wanning’s throat suddenly feel tight and he looks down at the item he’d pulled out of the box, tearing away the packaging paper. And freezes.
Nangong Liu must hear the same pride Chu Wanning heard because he continues, “And you’re so handsome yourself. You make a stunning pair.”
They do.
They do.
In his hands, protected by a simple frame, is a picture of Chu Wanning and Mo Ran. This one, he knew existed. They’d done a photo shoot of sorts to lend credibility to their years’ long relationship, to have something to display to make real what wasn’t.
But he hadn’t seen it before now.
The picture is simple— they’re dressed in casual clothes beneath the haitang blossoms in one of the parks near the community—
(It was how they saw the house they fell in love with)
— Mo Ran is grinning, one arm wrapped loosely around Chu Wanning’s shoulder, their heads touching slightly and bodies leaning together as they stare up at the camera. His other arm is stretched out to hold the camera but both of Chu Wanning’s are in the frame, both of them clasping the arm Mo Ran had around him.
He’s smiling.
Not a fake smile, not that stiff polite barely-there stretch of he usually wore. It’s smaller, hesitant—
It’s real. Real among all the lies, a happiness to which he had no right.
But it’s there. There among a box filled with dozens of others.
Chu Wanning can’t breathe.
- Writer #4
Chu Wanning only realizes the conversation down below is over when his thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the front door swinging shut followed by a clearly hesitant "Wanning?" He quickly places the photograph on their bedside table, the front angled away from where he sits on the floor among the packing boxes. He hears Mo Ran's footsteps as the man climbs up the stairs so he pulls the first thing out of the nearest box to pretend he was actually unpacking. He feels more than sees the door swing open but Mo Ran doesn't come in.
As he hovers at the door, Chu Wanning finally loses his patience and snaps, "Are you going to stand there all day?"
"I'm sorry, maybe I should unpack?"
Chu Wanning looks up to Mo Ran staring at his hands. He follows his gaze back down to finally look at what he pulled out of the packing box. White straps of satin and lacey fabric, tangled well enough to be almost unrecognizable had he not seen that exact same color and pattern in one of the pictures he had passed to get to their bedroom. With a less-than-dignified strangled sound at the realization, he drops the panties immediately. Mo Ran thinks that the image of Chu Wanning holding them up may have burned itself into his mind forever though.
"Fine. You unpack," Chu Wanning snaps again, ears and face reddening rapidly as he makes his speedy exit.
Mo Ran sends a cheery, "I only brought them to make sure there were no gaps in our story," after his fast-disappearing figure before taking his husband's place on the floor among the boxes. Bringing the lingerie along on this mission with the strictest supervisor he's ever had may have been crossing the line but Mo Ran's far too used to pretending he simply can't see the line to let it stop him now. The fact that Chu Wanning hadn't ripped it into shreds was already good enough for him.
As Mo Ran unpacks their boxes in their bedroom, Chu Wanning paces back and forth in the living room. In an attempt to forget every moment of today, he's gone back to doing what he does best - diving headfirst into work. There's not much in his own notes that he doesn't already have memorized, the details already carved into his mind with how often he's looked at them. There have been five robberies in all - one at the Nangongs', the house from which the man Mo Ran had greeted was from, one at the Hanxue twins' place, whose party invitation for tonight lies on their dining table and three more at Guyue'yes, the Xues, and Bitan. While the Hanxues' house was broken into, Chu Wanning thinks it's too early to discount them from suspicion, especially given the antiques that surfaced at their party. Hopefully, tonight's party gives them more clarity on where those originated from.
The houses they have not met yet are now Guyue'ye, home to one Jiang Xi, who seems to treat his residence more as a lab than an abode, the Xues, a small family of three and the Lis at Bitan. Chu Wanning wonders if they would actually be lucky enough to meet all the groups tonight at the party.
- Writer #5
The first time Mo Ran laid his eyes on Chu Wanning, his heart burst into flames. Chu Wanning had splashed water and kicked dirt onto it the moment Mo Ran attempted to flirt with him, and Mo Ran found solace in Shi Mingjing, who with a sympathetic smile reignited the fire. Then, he saw Shi Mei trip one of the junior interns into Chu Wanning’s way and play at concern for Chu Wanning, and Mo Ran’s budding feelings cringed into the safe zone of what the fuck was he competition .
He digressed.
The moment Chu Wanning walked into the frame of his sight, Mo Ran felt all his muscles go slack and the time slow down, and he felt another fire in his heart.
Chu Wanning rolled his shoulder to fit better into the jacket, flicking his arm out elegantly. “Well? Are we ready to go?” We . Mo Ran felt a part of him warm at the ‘we’ even though it was just a pronoun.
Chu Wanning looked like a model, stunning and gorgeous and cutting. The white suit flowed on him, the pants flowing along his legs like stiff silk, the blouse drooping into a seductive folded neckline, and the jacket outlining the sharp, masculine line of his shoulders. Mo Ran never wanted to be a jacket more in his life. Chu Wanning straightened the sleeve of the jacket.
“Mo Ran ,” came Chu Wanning, sharply. “Do I need to give you a pacifier and a blanket? Stop staring.”
“Sorry, yeah, I’m- we’re ready. Let’s go,” Mo Ran stuttered, and then felt like a fool to stutter.
Chu Wanning gave him another cold glance and walked out of the front door. “I’m driving,” he grabbed the keys that lay in a glass bowl by the door, and elegantly twirled them. Mo Ran’s eyes hung on the way Chu Wanning’s fingers caught the shadows and the light.
The party itself was held in an superfluously large garden, one probably drafted for large parties. Fairy lights decorated the fencing, and there were at least three fountains, one of which held a giant fucking sculpture of two phoenixes.
“Phoenices,” Chu Wanning said, as though reading his mind. He nursed a glass of wine in his right hand, looking the perfect picture of a wife languidly flirting with his husband. “Also, it’s a custom piece, which means they have their money and their money has its uses.” Which meant they were likely to be dropped from the suspect list.
“Xue Meng, get off your phone,” came a pleasant voice from near. Mo Ran looked up to see a lovely older woman with lovely pin waves nagging at a shorter boy with a striking resemblance to her. A man next to her boisterously laughed and said, “Baobei, my love, kids are just like that these days.”
Xue Meng glared at his parents. “I’m twenty-one. And I’m doing my quiz for my Chinese Literature class, which you guys told me to do good in, and then pulled me here, where the reception is really, really- terrible,” he said, and to Mo Ran it sounded like he was holding back from swearing, and Mo Ran honestly felt bad for him.
Out of seemingly nowhere, a twin showed up, this one wearing his bright blonde hair in a sleek yet voluminous with the length up to his knees. “Welcome, again, Xue Zhengyong, Wang Chuqing,” he said in a polite tone. He made eye contact with Xue Meng, who looked like he wanted to flee. “Xue Meng.”
To Mo Ran, observing the boy blush was like watching a drama. “Mei Hanxue,” Xue Meng unattractively grunted. The older twin was supposed to be more personable and calm, and Mo Ran wanted to laugh at the description. At the moment, the older twin looked about ready to fight, with tense lines and a working jaw. If the older twin was like this, then Mo Ran dreaded meeting the more extraverted, glossy twin, who was apparently prone to mood swings.
“Ah, the new neighbors!” said a bright voice to their left. Mo Ran and Chu Wanning looked out at the same time. Speak of the fucking devil.
Mei HanXue.
- Writer #6
Mo Ran slipped an amiable grin on, nodding once. “That’s us,” he confirmed cheerfully.
“How are you two enjoying the party?” Mei HanXue asked with a tilt of his head, coming to a stop in front of them. His smile was equally easy, and his eyes glimmered with some form of amusement as he gave them both a once-over.
Chu Wanning seemed to move instinctively back at that, and Mo Ran immediately curled a protective arm around his—his husband. God, it felt so good to call him that. And even better to get to hold him like this, the way I want to…
“It’s good,” Mo Ran answered, offering another smile. “You two sure know how to throw a party.”
That may have been an understatement. With the level of wealth present—from the decorations (Mo Ran was still shaken by the phoenixes probably worth more than his entire life could ever be) to the gourmet food and the expensive wine… Well. Needless to say, anyone would envy this amount of luxury; it was a hell of a party, and Mo Ran had a feeling it would get even wilder eventually as people grew more and more drunk—which he and Chu Wanning were of course counting on. Those who talk too much are bound to slip up, after all—or as they said in the west, “loose lips sink ships.”
Mei HanXue brightened at the compliment, and Mo Ran was glad he’d apparently said the right thing. “Thank you! That’s all me, honestly. My ge is never any help when it comes to these things.”
Mo Ran nodded politely. “We were appreciating the…um.” He tried to find the right words to get into asking about the designer artworks, but his brain was heavily blanking. In the end, he could only finish with “the art,” turning helplessly to Chu Wanning. “Right, baobei?”
“Mn. They’re quite beautiful. I especially appreciate the blend of the fenghuang and the western phoenix; the contrast of the multi-coloured feathers and the flame feathers creates quite the image.”
“Oh, yeah! We thought it’d be a great way to celebrate all that we learned in our arrival to China.”
As the blond twin prattled a bit further on about the special meaning and important artist and history behind the sculpture, Mo Ran was so relieved he’d let Chu Wanning take over. He gave his companion a squeeze on his shoulder, and when Chu Wanning glanced up at him, he smiled gratefully at him.
Chu Wanning quickly shifted his face slightly away—not a large enough movement to draw attention, but still present enough for Mo Ran to notice. Yet just as he was growing disappointed at the man pulling away, he noticed…
Chu Wanning’s ears had gone red?
It made his eyes widen, but it was at that moment that Mei HanXue began wrapping his spiel up, glancing at someone behind them, who may have been in the Xue group, still talking to the elder Mei Hanxue. “And of course, pretty little phoenixes have a lot of meaning both in the west and the east. For the former, there’s rising from one’s ashes, which my brother and I know plenty about, but for the latter, when paired with the dragon, there’s the whole thing about marriage …”
“We had a fenghuang and dragon set-up at our wedding too,” Mo Ran suddenly said. He could feel Chu Wanning jolt slightly under his arm, but he kept his expression placid and warm. “It was the perfect symbol of our love for one another,” he continued, even as he felt an arm jab into his side. It was only then that he turned to him, grinning. “And my Wanning looked absolutely stunning. We got so many pictures that night—didn’t we?”
“…Mn.”
It was only a sound of acknowledgement, but Mo Ran had gotten what he wanted—the blush was extremely visible on his ears now, and it had even spread to his face. It was delightful. And so cute .
But before he could attempt to probe any more about some of their artworks—like the twin lucky cat sculptures—Mei HanXue turned to Chu Wanning. “Oh, I’m sure Chu-xiansheng looked just gorgeous . I’ve seen those photos of you in lingerie, and they certainly don’t do you justice.”
“Hey, that’s my husband you’re flirting with, now,” Mo Ran began to say, trying to sound casual and joking, but Chu Wanning was growing rigid beside him, so he cast a concerned look at his partner.
“I’m simply being honest! Practically everyone here has seen those photos, you know—Chu-xiansheng, you truly are the talk of the town.”
This time, before Mo Ran could respond, Chu Wanning said a stiff “thank you” and “please excuse me” before stalking away.
“Was it something I said?” Mei HanXue asked.
Mo Ran offered an apologetic smile. “Wanning’s just a little shy. He’ll be fine after I talk to him.”
“I’ll be heading off too, then.” Mei HanXue gave a wave and walked off. “I have a certain someone I’d like to tease~ See you around, Mo-xiansheng!”
Mo Ran nodded. He then ran off after Chu Wanning, who was still moving as swiftly as his slender legs could carry him without looking like he was also running. “Wanning? Everything okay?”
At his voice, Chu Wanning spun around. “Do you have to”—he stopped here, looking lost, which only seemed to make him angrier—“call so much attention to my appearance? The lingerie photos are already out there—there’s no point in mentioning it just to get people to make comments about me!”
“What…?”
Chu Wanning glared at him like he was an idiot, and Mo Ran was startled to see that the corners of his phoenix eyes were red. He looked so… bullied , like this. “I don’t need—I don’t need to be mocked, Mo Ran. I…” He trailed off, appearing frustrated.
“Baobei—”
“And I told you—you don’t have to call me that!” he snapped. “We’re solely on a mission. I know it’s not exactly pleasant, but we just have to get this over with and then we can go our separate ways. You don’t have to try so hard to stick to me if you don’t want to.”
“But I do want to, baobei,” Mo Ran insisted, using the term of endearment again in his stubbornness. He furrowed his brow. “And why would you think any of us were mocking you?”
Now Chu Wanning jerked his head away. It was a long time until he responded, his voice in a low mutter, “Because I’m already aware that I’m old and ugly. So there’s really no need to make it even more of a torment; I know how unpleasant you must think I am to be around.”
This time, Mo Ran felt as if he’d been punched in the face. “What? Why on earth would you think that?”
- Writer #7
But Chu Wanning did not answer him. He had already told Mo Ran what he thought this all was. Humiliation, a public way to torture him. Just a bit of fun, poked at him while they were forced together for the duration of their mission.
And what did Mo Ran, World Class Agent and Number One Dumbass do? He played right into his misconceptions. He smiled at him, like never before, he claimed to love, to be inspired by a body that Chu Wanning knew wasn’t his – a mockery of his own attraction to Mo Ran.
“Baobei– Wanning ,” Mo Ran corrected gently. “Whatever you think this is, you are wrong. I-” he looked around. There were too many people, too many witnesses to talk so openly, when all he wanted was to be honest. For a second, he hesitated. First of all, they needed to stay, to observe and take notes on everyone and point out all suspects. Solve the case before anything can go wrong.
Loud laughter rang in his ears, almost startling them both. Chu Wanning, already vulnerable, visibly shook at the sound and that was Mo Ran’s breaking point.
Forget the mission. To hell with these rich peacocks showing off their wealth with phoenix-shaped fountains and ice sculptures of dragons and conveniently appearing ancient artworks. Mo Ran had his own timeless treasure to hold onto and keep safe. And so, he could very well start with explaining himself.
He drew close to Chu Wanning, with a fake, flirtatious smirk plastered on his face and leaned into his neck to whisper: "Can we talk?" When he drew back, his perfectly trained smile was strained and he was weak in the knees from the sweet scent of Chu Wanning's warm skin, his closeness. It should have been way harder to keep up the facade of a smitten husband, but alas, Mo Ran was only human.
Chu Wanning, while still wary, glanced up at him, looking for a trace of malice, but as he found none ( obviously ), he finally nodded. He forced his lips into a smile, beautiful and just a bit fragile, and took Mo Ran's hand loosely into his – who immediately held on tighter and carefully, so as not to spook the man, he entwined their fingers, palm to palm, warm and intimate. Mo Ran took the initiative without prompting and pulled him along, eyes scanning for a shrub, an alcove, anything, just so they could have a moment of privacy.
“Come, my Wanning,” Mo Ran said gently, but loud enough, so that people could hear them. Making a show of sneaking off was a better way to ensure their privacy, than simply disappearing from the party.
Sadly, some people still couldn’t take the hint and stood in their way, drawing Mo Ran into one conversation, asking about his camera equipment, and Chu Wanning into another, separating them. When Mo Ran finally managed to excuse himself, he saw that Nangong Liu, and another man in an expensive, but entirely distasteful lilac tuxedo – who was so insignificant, that Mo Ran didn't even have a footnote in his files about him – had approached Chu Wanning.
“Such a lovely party, yet you are still skimping on the alcohol?” he asked, voice dripping of sickly sweet honey. He eyed Chu Wanning up – barely sparing a glance at the approaching Mo Ran –, before handing one glass of that disgustingly expensive champagne to him.
“How kind of you,” Chu Wanning replied with a smile, Mo Ran knew, was hiding his deepest disgust – and with the man’s eyes unashamedly following the dip of sheer fabric down Chu Wanning’s chest, he knew there was a good reason for it.
“I’m terribly sorry, but me and my husband still have quite a few introductions to make,” Mo Ran interrupted, pulling his partner into his side. The man’s eyes narrowed and he scoffed in disappointment. But Mo Ran did not care. He simply waved the man off and started walking away as fast as he could without outright running. Chu Wanning wasn’t the only one unsettled by the man.
As they cut through the crowd, Mo Ran could feel more eyes on them, burning with something he did not care to decipher. Having the warmth of Chu Wanning plastered to his side was enough for him to feel high and have not a single care for the world, his focus narrowed down to one man and one objective: finding a private spot for them.
“Mo Ran,” Chu Wanning started, pulling on his hand lightly, but he just kept walking, away from the noise and those kitschy fairy lights.
“Mo Ran,” he tried again, with a bit more force this time, fingers digging into Mo Ran’s arm almost painfully.
“Almost there,” the man replied simply and kept on walking into the quiet dark of the night, until the only thing he heard was the soft splashes of yet another fountain. The small bench he had spotted from the distance was there, a bright white marble. It was cold, but comfortable as they sat down, close enough to feel one another’s body heat.
“You shouldn’t drink, you are driving,” Mo Ran said after a few uncomfortable moments of silence, pointing at the flute of champagne.
“You shouldn’t drink, you are on a mission,” Chu Wanning countered with a raised eyebrow, but handed over the still full glass. Their fingers touched over the cold crystal stem, a spark of electricity made them both gasp, and then… nothing. Neither of them dared to act on it.
So Mo Ran, a coward, angry and disappointed, downed the entire glass, feeling the alcohol burn its way down his throat, lighting up his chest.
Chu Wanning sighed. “Mo Ran, you wanted to talk.”
“Right,” he coughed uncomfortably. “Baobei, Wanning. I have no idea why you think you are anything but beautiful. Breathtaking. And… I know you hate those pictures. They were not made to mock you, they are not you. I hate that others can look at them as well and think that is you. I hate when they look at you. All the time, tonight, the way they looked at you, like you were one of those ancient artifacts they collect–”
Mo Ran’s breath was stuck in his throat.
In their eyes, Mo Ran was an artist, designing lingerie and taking photos of it. But no one, not a single person had praised his work for what it was. Only Chu Wanning, how beautiful he was, how well he suited those garments.
They had a great eye for beauty as well, when they spent their time admiring paintings, looking at sculptures and collecting (and even stealing) art.
And it was clear now: in their eyes, Chu Wanning was Mo Ran’s art.
- Writer #8
Mo Ran’s heart only burned deeper. This was the man he longed for, he did so much to be able to work on this mission with him.
Now even if it wasn’t actual photos of him, he despises the eyes of everyone. They were all looking at his Wanning.
His chest grew more frantic, unsure if it was his feelings or the drink he chugged earlier.
“Baobei… I don't feel so good.” Mo Ran held his palms to his face.
Chu Wanning leaned forward a bit. Wanting to not show his feelings while also caring too much about him. “What’s wrong? We can leave the party early.”
Mo Ran felt his emotions in a mess, feeling impulsive and possessive. Still hiding himself and chaining down his feelings. Loving Chu Wanning is in his nature, his throat was dry as he lowered his hands down.
“Am I ever going to get this chance again after this mission?” He spoke with worry.
Chu Wanning was confused, “Mo Ran, what do you mean?”
Mo Ran’s eyes looked up at the other, his face reflected by the moonlight. The only thing he heard was his heart pounding, wanting to jump out of his chest.
“What I mean is…”, he pauses for a moment. Afraid of what reaction Chu Wanning would show, his dumb mind didn't think much, his love was stronger than his fear. If anything, he can blame it on the alcohol.
“Will I ever call you Baobei after this?” he shamelessly spoke.
Chu Wanning’s face turned stern and his ears were red, “You shameless! Do you know what you are saying? It’s for the mission.”
Mo Ran kept his eyes on him, he saw those phoenix eyes and his red ears. His eyes looked at the beauty in front of him. “What if every time I called you, mine… every single time that I called you Baobei. I say it with my heart.”
Does he have a chance? Why are his ears red? The dumb husky kept piercing his eyes on him.
Chu Wanning didn’t want to misunderstand and get hopeful.
Truly, who could love an old ugly man such as himself?
Especially compared to Shi Mei, someone young and beautiful, who far better matches with Mo Ran. “Mo Ran, you don’t need to pretend for the mission, no one is here so you can stop the act.”
Mo Ran watched the way Chu Wanning lowered his eyes, looking away.
He boldly grabbed his face, holding Chu Wanning’s cheeks. Feeling his palms warm underneath.
Chu Wanning’s eyes widened, he didn't have time to react when he heard his weak voice slip from his lips.
“Baobei, look at me please…” Like a lost dog, he desperately hung and followed behind him. “Don’t look away… Wanning…”
Hopeless to the people’s stares. No matter how much he barked at others that this man is his. He still felt scared and reckless.
Chu Wanning stayed silent, still not sure how to respond to him.
“Before I looked at you, you were the most handsome man I had ever seen. I already wanted you then, now I even want you more…—“
Before Mo Ran could continue, the two heard a scream and out came running Xue Meng. Looking like a wronged mistress with a red face.
He kept shouting, “You ruffian! Don’t touch me!”
- Writer #9
The two of them froze. How must have they looked? Two adults hidden like teens desperate to steal kisses away from prying eyes. Mo Ran’s hands still cradled Chu Wanning’s face, Chu Wanning’s own frozen in motion.
Thankfully, Xue Meng hadn’t seemed to notice them, too lost in his own flurry of rage. As the two of them watched the boy stomp off, a thick unease settled around them. Mo Ran’s confession hung in the air, a specter they couldn’t forget. Neither seemed eager to broach the subject again, even once Xue Meng had made his exit from the scene, leaving them no audience beyond the cicadas chirping in the distance.
-and the rustling of a nearby push. Chu Wanning jerked away from Mo Ran’s grasp and turned towards the foliage. Had someone been spying on them? How foolish of them to speak so openly about their mission without ensuring they were clear of wayward spies.
“I’ll,” Chu Wanning coughed, his face still burning crimson red, “I’ll go check.” It was an excuse for him to run and so he took it.
Without waiting for Mo Ran's reply, Chu Wanning ran, leaving Mo Ran to wallow in the malaise alone. Without Chu Wanning there to support, Mo Ran swayed. Was that the alcohol to blame? Surely it couldn't have been. Mo Ran was hardly a lightweight, and that had only been wine.
But his head was swimming, and the flush that had begun in his face was trailing a blaze down his body. His breath was coming harsher. Maybe it had been a while?
Mo Ran reached out to steady himself, but his hand hit only air. His body soon followed, hurtling towards the ground at a speed to fast for his drunken reaction time to stop.
"-Ran? Mo Ran!" Before he could connect with the ground, Chu Wanning was at his side in the span of a blink… or perhaps Mo Ran had momentarily passed out. Either way, he was being held in solid arms, cradled like something gentle. Even through the haze, Mo Ran could hear the panic in Chu Wanning’s voice.
"What's wrong?" Chu Wanning pressed his palm against Mo Ran's cheek. It felt nice, cool against his burning skin. He wanted more, wanted Chu Wanning to keep holding him like this forever.
"Jus' drunk," Mo Ran slurred, nuzzling into Chu Wanning's palm.
“That- You hadn’t even been…” Chu Wanning sputtered. “They must have put something-”
In the distance, the sounds of chaos filled the air, a woman's voice screamed out her husband's name. Another frantically called for his brother. Glass shattered, and body's thudded as they fell to the ground.
Then, with the sharp pop of something electric, the world around them turned black.
- Writer #10
A minute passed, or maybe an hour, before Mo Ran blinked back to consciousness. The combination of the stun darts with whatever they had put in his drink had left Mo Ran’s vision doubled. Sitting proved more difficult than expected with his wrists bound with zip ties. But Mo Ran was not an agent for nothing, and incapacitated or not, civilian junk was not going to stop him.
On the floor around him, Mo Ran saw a half-dozen other partygoers still unconscious and bound: the elder Mei twin and Xue Zhongyong among them, but Chu Wanning was nowhere to be seen in this gaudy room they had been stuffed in. Flooded with worry and rage, adrenaline took over, and Mo Ran pushed past the aftereffects of the narcotic to get his shit together and kick the door open.
A man in a suit spun around in surprise and raised another stun gun. Mo Ran broke his wrist and sent him crumpling to the floor with one punch to the jaw. A quick search of the poorly cut jacket did not reveal another weapon, but did yield a handheld radio. Mo Ran continued stalking down the hallway as he grabbed it and adjusted the volume.
“--bzzt south gate. Target has moved bzzt Oh shit–”
The voice on the radio cut out, followed by the sound of something breaking in the distance. Mo Ran started running. He slammed through another set of doors, and as he got closer to the fighting had to jump over people on the ground. Some bloody, some groaning in pain, but all alive. Mo Ran bit out a curse and prayed to whatever gods listened to dumb huskies. Please, let me get to him in time.
He whipped around to the corner to see his prayer had been heard. Chu Wanning stood with his foot on the back of someone’s neck, muscles bunched as he gave something a good yank. Mo Ran stumbled to a stop; the dizzying relief of seeing his baobei alive battling against the lightheadedness of all the blood rushing to his dick at the sight in front of him.
Chu Wanning had appropriated one of the thick extension cords that had been connected to the sound system and wrapped one end around his forearm. The other end coiled around the neck of the person who had just fallen on their ass. Chu Wanning glared as he gave another good stomp to the person under him who tried to squirm away. He glanced up at the sound of Mo Ran’s approach, and the tiny frown pinching his face melted away in pure, unguarded relief.
“Wanning,” Mo Ran said in a rasp.
He closed the distance between them in three quick steps and wrapped his arm around Chu Wanning’s waist.
“Mo Ran, what— Are you hurt?”
Wanning’s concern and confusion were swallowed up as Mo Ran slid his hand to the back of Chu Wanning’s neck and dipped him into a kiss. Chu Wanning startled under him, but Mo Ran’s grip was strong and he kissed his way into Chu Wanning’s mouth. Each thready breath made Mo Ran grow bolder, made him tilt Chu Wanning’s head back to lick his way inside and chance a squeeze, hand barely above the swell of Chu Wanning’s ass.
Mo Ran was braced to be the next one whipped, if this was his only chance to hold his baobei like this, like he really was Mo Ran’s, he would make it count. But the pain never came; Chu Wanning hesitantly wrapped his free arm around Mo Ran instead.
The idiot with the cord around his neck saw his chance and stood. He swung one of the chairs at them. Mo Ran snarled as he caught it with one hand, but Chu Wanning beat him to the punch. He hooked the man’s foot and dropped him hard onto the floor. Chu Wanning looped the cable around the man’s neck a few more times and pulled until he stopped moving. Mo Ran had never seen anything sexier in his life.
Whatever Mo Ran was considering doing next must have shown on his face because Chu Wanning blushed and looked away.
“Mo Ran,” he said. “We need to find out where they were planning to take–”
“Later, we definitely will,” Mo Ran promised as he slid both his hands over Chu Wanning’s ass. “You got them so good, though baobei, I have to press you up against that wall and kiss you about it.”
“Mo Weiyu!"
Mo Ran lifted Chu Wanning off the ground and walked determinedly towards the wall. They ignored the squirming, choked noises of the man they dragged along with him. Mo Ran pressed himself fully against Chu Wanning’s body again, gratified to feel both of them enjoying themselves, and smirked.
“Mmm. Now where were we?”
- Writer #11