Chapter Text
“So back then, waaay back then, when we first touched down in the Luofu,” Stelle began, like a long-winded grandmother telling her awkward audience her story. The awkward audience was made up of one concerned, afraid, and slightly anxious Dan Heng, who had sat on his tail again to keep it in check. “When March and I were exploring, we chanced upon a box. It was a very suspicious box, mind you, positioned in front of the Sky-Faring Commission.”
They were stalling, a “short story long” as Stelle would call it.
“We found this thick stack of paper,” The other narrator continued their grandmothers’ tale. “It looked like some kind of abandoned fanfiction, slowburn, friends to lovers, an angsty long-fic! And it was tossed into a box, just like that! Good thing Stelle’s raccoon senses were tingling, and we actually struck forty pages of gold!”
He did not like where this was going. He hated it already. Fanfiction, why, just why? Dan Heng would rather not be told what someone else’s creativity could do to him, but he supposed he had no choice.
“Yeah, that key piece of evidence forms the basis of this Plan,” Stelle mused, still grinning at Dan Heng. “The author of that fanfic was asking some Immersia Club’s Mayor for comments, which was about the Xianzhou Sword Tale, before they posted it online. I doubt they threw it out themselves, because they seemed really proud of their work. Or more likely, the Immersia Club’s Mayor threw it out.”
The Xianzhou Sword Tale. Dan Heng cringed internally, remembering stumbling upon the long dirges from the Immersia Club about the High Cloud Quintet’s history. The ‘key characters’ of the Tale’s plot had roughly mismatched characters in their name, the very same overly exalted, overly bastardised versions of real people he once knew — if his dreams, Dan Feng’s memories, were accurate.
This should be something along the lines of Historical RPF, from Dan Heng’s research, or Historical Real Person Fiction. It was mortifying to realise that fanfiction had been written about them, and the very implication that it was written by fans meant that the strange things they envisioned in their minds were also very real words on paper.
Furthermore, with Jing Yuan’s popularity on the Luofu, Dan Feng’s notoriety of creating a huge historical event named after him—
“It was way too long of a story to recount now, but the TL;DR of it is that it was between a ‘Jim Yan’ and a ‘Denn Fang’! Who eventually, extremely homoerotically, died in each other's arms! Look, we didn’t know who these people were until we met The Jing Yuan, and then realised who Denn Fang would be!” Stelle’s meows rose in pitch and intensity, as she began to panic under Dan Heng’s stare.
Denn Fang. Jim Yan. Really? Of all similar sounding names, they had to choose the silliest. Dan Heng could not begin to fathom how the actors could so wholeheartedly delude themselves into enacting their role as a ‘Denn Fang, Longzun of the Luofu Vidyadhara”. It was two pronunciations off the Xianzhou words for “boiled soup”.
“Wait, there’s more! Just, just listen, okay?!” March pleaded, putting a damper on his irritation. This was something premeditated, and he wanted dearly to believe that the girls were doing things in his best interest, even if he did not agree with their methods.
This was the result of the girls “shipping” him with Jing Yuan, which was the term they used to describe their fantastical, wholly impossible relationship. Dan Heng was certain that whatever he felt had to be leftover baggage from Dan Feng’s guilt, and confused gratitude towards Jing Yuan’s kindness. He had to be objective, and rule out the soft bubbling excitement that came with Jing Yuan’s name.
Maybe all he had wanted was a friend from his birthplace — but the thought felt wrong to him, as much as he hated to admit it, it felt different from how he had made friends and found family in the Astral Express. This feeling was more selfish, and stemmed from a deeper place. He shook his head to rid himself of the fog of thoughts and jumbled feelings.
The girls were talking about his past life’s meddlings with Jing Yuan, and did not involve him in the slightest. If Jing Yuan still had unresolved matters with Dan Feng, it was not his responsibility to resolve. Even so, this was fanfiction , and thus it couldn’t be further from the truth, right?
“We didn’t want to tell you about it yet, after we read the manuscript, because you know…,” March continued sheepishly. Yes, he knew, because he was busy figuring out his own past on the Luofu, post-exile. “I think we went back for the manuscript after we figured out who Dan Feng was. We didn’t know when to talk about it, because…”
“Because, if that fanfiction was about a Jim Yan and a Denn Fang, it wouldn’t involve you,” Stelle had regained her resolve, now speaking to him with her chest puffed out. “Because you are not that ‘Denn Fang’, you’re our Dan Heng.”
Dan Heng deflated as his irritation and anxiety left him, as he sagged into his sheets. He curled up, staring at a spot in front of him as his chest ached. Our Dan Heng. He would hold on to that forever, and tuck it away in a small corner of his heart to cherish. They knew how much it meant to him, to be himself, and that was enough. He would not be mistaken as someone else other than Dan Heng on the Express; never at a place like home.
“Thank you for telling me,” Dan Heng mumbled, once the feeling washed away, “but what does this have to do with the…Plan?”
What he had left unsaid, was: How did this involve him and Jing Yuan, if that story was about Dan Feng?
Stelle understood, and continued with her Aeons-forsaken, unfiltered commentary, “You’re welcome! It was entertaining research material, so I wouldn’t say I wasted my time on it. I’d rather read forty pages of slow burn, of people you may potentially know, rather than forty pages of raw-dogging—"
“STELLE!”
“Anyways! It’s not over yet, Dan Heng,” Stelle simply yapped louder, fully unphased, and pat the sheets loudly next to him to get his attention, much like a teacher waking her inattentive student. His stomach flipped nervously at her words. Dan Heng cautiously raised his head, watching her with narrowed eyes.
“Do not talk about that, Stelle,” March warned before a peep could leave Stelle’s mouth, her tail whipping behind her. “Not yet. That’s for later, after we tell him about Jing Yuan. The one about the plant!”
Dan Heng felt his cheeks grow warm at the mention of his name. He was grateful that, in his present form, it was impossible for them to see his cheeks and ears colouring at his embarrassment. They did not need to know about the truth of their past, not yet. Thankfully, with his prior knowledge of Jing Yuan, he was certain he would not do the same as Argenti had, and wax lyrical about its beauty to its silent recipient.
“Did you know, Dan Heng,” Stelle cleared her throat as much as she could in her new body, and it came out more like a purring harrumph, her eyes narrowing into sly crescents. Dan Heng felt the dread from earlier pool in his stomach once more. “Jing Yuan often stands in front of that plant, the one next to the door leading to our rooms, and just…muses about you? On our turf, where I, the All-Hearing Stelle, could listen in to his every sigh and whisper?”
Dan Heng buried his face into his blanket, hiding behind his other paw. He what? How often, and how many times, and since when had he done so? His fur prickled uncomfortably at her word choice, and inwardly he begged for her not to continue with her own chapter of fanfiction.
“Yeah! Mr ‘ I wonder what Dan Heng’s getting up to lately ’ and his favourite pondering spot! Just open the door, for fuck’s sake, walk in twenty steps, turn left, open the door again, and your Dan Heng is right there! ”
Your Dan Heng, she had said. Dan Heng wished he was hidden under the covers, or tucked into the darkest corner of the space beneath his desk. Dan Heng did not belong to him, even the very thought of that made his insides squirm and shudder with a strangely warm feeling he could not name. Stelle had lost it — her passionate rant had just begun, and she showed no signs of stopping or slowing down. Those words made his heart fumble erratically, and there was nothing he could do to let it be still.
“ ‘Has Dan Heng been enjoying his time on the Express’, he says. ‘Why don’t you ask him yourself!’ I say! And he does not ever ask you that himself! Oh, Aeons, I really don’t know what’s wrong with him! What’s stopping him?!”
“Okay, let’s be fair to our General here,” March began warily, struggling to hold her own against the rising tide of Stelle’s rant, and Dan Heng’s concerned look. Her tinny meow danced on the bridge of metaphorical eggshells between Stelle and Dan Heng. “He did ask Dan Heng out that one time, in person, for a reunion! He’s doing something!”
Dan Heng, Jing Yuan had said, would you be willing to join me for Chuxi this year? That is, if you have nothing already planned…?
He remembered how Jing Yuan had hid a hand behind his back, while he spoke into a clenched fist, eyes cast to the side. The only things that betrayed his usual, calm and firm countenance was the tardiness of his words and the uncertainty that trailed off with his question. Back then, he believed that perhaps Jing Yuan had felt like he was intruding on the Express’ own celebrations, but now, he had reason to doubt that, especially after what the girls had told him.
He still couldn’t believe that Jing Yuan had been asking about him, and for him. Multiple times to boot!
It was the one and only time Dan Heng had seen him on the Express, when he had passed by the Passenger Cabin on his way to refill his jug of Longjing tea. Of all the times he had visited, Dan Heng had always been holed up in his room — he prayed that it was not as frequent as the girls exaggerated it to be. The thought ate away at him from the inside.
He couldn’t help but wonder — what if he had said what he had wanted to say , instead of stuffing that voice shamefully back into himself? What if he had said, I will make time for you , instead of nodding like a voiceless fool? That would have greatly altered the way they saw each other, if Dan Heng had the courage to take the first step, even if it was a gamble.
Dan Heng would not, and could not let this happen again. It was as if it had taken Jing Yuan that many visits and that many tries to pick up the courage to ask him a simple question. All this time, Dan Heng received selfishly, never returning the favour. He knew how to change things now.
The selfish part of himself wanted to ignore that inner voice that chided him to draw a line. What if he wanted to try something, whatever this was, for himself? If it was ‘foolish’ to think and feel this way, to want to make Jing Yuan happy, then perhaps Dan Heng would become a fool.
“Oh, March, let me finish, I’m not done! He told us that they were hanging out, explicitly as friends, so it doesn’t count!” Stelle retorted quickly, and took another deep inhale to replenish the wind in her sails.
Friends. That word had haunted him last night, and it had resurfaced again now, this time with March defending their status. Hearing it from her as a fact instead of a question somehow seemed wrong.
“I’m so sorry, she can’t be stopped,” March wailed, now trapping his paw with hers. He peeked up at her with one eye to see her large, pleading eyes once more. This was not the first time she heard this rant, and Dan Heng hoped it would be the last.
“Anyways, as I was saying,” Stelle now paced around them in circles; the sound of her meows going meow-nd and meow-nd made Dan Heng dizzier. “Jing Yuan would always say, ‘ Dan Heng has a new life now ’, and that ‘ he’s no longer the old friend I knew from before’ , and something about how he should let you go because you’re reborn, and free, like a fish or something!
Dan Heng closed his eyes, feeling his whole world start to spin, but the spinning did not stop even in the darkness behind his lids. Their sudden decision to stop at the Luofu for the Lunar New Year, their Navigator’s knowing smile when he told his family about his reunion with Jing Yuan, and Stelle and March suggesting that they all split up to enjoy the holiday in groups — everything added up.
Let’s stop at the Luofu, it’s going to be Dan Heng’s first Lunar New Year out of exile, he could almost imagine March exclaiming, no doubt as part of their pre-meditation. Stelle would have said something or other about finding treasures (in trash), eating more food, and hanging out with the Luofu’s locals, to back up her partner’s point. All that only made his head spin faster.
“Here’s the real kicker, which keeps me up at night, because, will the two of you just talk already! Do you need me to lock you both up in a room and throw the key away for you to make some progress on your relationship?!”
The sound of his heart pounding in his ears nearly drowned out Stelle’s frustrated yells about Jing Yuan. This was concrete evidence that refuted his silly musings from the night before. Dan Heng was mortified now to recall his conviction to draw a hard, defined line between them. Had it not been for their intervention, he feared that his previous plan would have permanently ended their friendship, or…relationship, whatever it was.
Jing Yuan had wanted him to be free, and wanted him to stay free. He had wanted him to find his own meaning in the sea of stars, and move on, and find his family. Which he did, and he would be eternally grateful, for Jing Yuan was truly the only reason why he would ever be here.
A part of him, perhaps the part that used to be Dan Feng’s memories, urged him deeply — that Jing Yuan had cut their ties back then, and exiled him, precisely because Jing Yuan felt that he would hold Dan Heng back from his freedom. The human anchor that Dan Feng used to ground himself from the madness of his draconic power, would be the same one that held Dan Heng back from his ultimate destiny, forming intangible shackles on top of the ones he had carried from his past life’s sin.
Jing Yuan had sent him on his journey under the guise of exile, expecting that he may never choose to return to the Luofu. Jing Yuan had let him go so easily — it surely wasn’t psychologically or emotionally easy for him, Dan Heng knew, as Dan Feng was the baggage that Jing Yuan had to shoulder alone. On the contrary, he knew how easy it was for Jing Yuan to retain him in the Luofu for as long as he wished, but instead, he fought hard for his right to be free.
His own freedom, Dan Heng’s freedom, not Dan Feng’s; Jing Yuan had not seen him as Dan Feng anymore. He did not know when, or how this happened, but this new knowledge made him hate himself for ever considering his earlier plan. Jing Yuan saw him as just Dan Heng, as himself, not the person he was. Not who he had to be.
Not once, after the Luofu’s Stellaron Crisis had been resolved, had Jing Yuan ever called him by his title. It was always Dan Heng, and Dan Heng only.
Dan Heng could not put a name to the disturbing agitation within him. It burned yet soothed with a trembling warmth, and seized and squeezed and wrenched at his chest relentlessly. He felt it reach his fingers and toes, seep into his ears and tail, and hover around his torso, making it feel empty yet full. Guilt was part of it, he recognised its cold gnawing. More so, it was gratitude that robbed him of his ability to speak as his throat was coated with that honey-like feeling, reminiscent of the white gingko bonbon he had last night.
Maybe it was time he returned the favour, and returned to Jing Yuan’s side, to acknowledge all he had done for him, and to fix whatever Dan Feng had ruined.
“What,” Dan Heng croaked into his sheets, his voice coming out muffled. He realised that she had been waiting for him to finish his existential crisis before she continued.
“No one is winning Jing Yuan in a yearning contest. No one is going to out-yearn him. I don’t understand why he’s so masochistically willing to let himself slow-cook like that,” Stelle ranted in one long, hefty yell, but she was not done. “He says, ‘That I may glance upon him from the shore is enough for me.’ Glance. Glance! That’s all he is content with! What is wrong with this man!”
The pounding of blood in his ears thumped in time with Stelle’s frustrated yells.
“Never let him cook again! Get Jing Yuan out of the kitchen, because he’s going to cook himself into the same stew he’s trying to cook for you! I don’t know if you know this, Dan Heng, but that man loves you more than you love yourself. And don’t you dare think we don’t know what you think about him, even if you don’t want to admit that to yourself, because watching the two of you interact is making me lose my mind! Aaaah!”
Glance upon him, from the shores of the Luofu, as Jing Yuan gazed up into the sky beyond the Luofu’s firmament, trying to find Dan Heng in a sea of stars where he swam free. It was all Dan Heng had wanted, since his days in the Shackling Prison, and this was still a heartfelt dream — his journey with his family had not yet ended, but still, he should remember the source from which the waters flowed , that carried him here today.
Even that Xianzhou proverb, in the dialect, sounded like Jing Yuan’s name.
A thick heaviness fell on him, filling his nose and eyes, pulling him deeper into the ground. He dragged himself into a tight ball, breathing hard and rapidly, losing control of his composure. Dan Heng did all that he could to force out his tears, wanting to get them out and over with. He didn’t want to make them worry; he could deal with his emotions later, and sort them out slowly, like when he was in the shower, he could cry as much as he wanted—
“Oh, Dan Heng, it’s okay, don’t cry!” March sobbed, her own meow warbling with tears, as he felt her snuggle up to him on his side, her purrs buzzing through him. Dan Heng wrangled with his breathing, trying to match them with her purrs.
Something came to land on his head, once, twice, and stayed there. The weight of it was calming; it grounded him, washing away the pressure in his chest. He pressed his face once more to his paws, and his sheets, expelling the last of his tears, before raising his head. Stelle danced, trying to balance as she reached her two paws out for him, finding a way to hug him. Instead, her paw landed square on his head again, flattening his ears.
“The attempt is appreciated,” he managed to get out. “And thank you for telling me.”
“Please tell me you’re going to do something about it, because I know the General won’t.”
Or risk an eternal stalemate, Black Swan’s card had warned. He nodded, he would do something about it, but how? Communicating with Jing Yuan about topics like these was difficult, he did not know where to start — that, and how he was presently a cat . If the roles were reversed, and Jing Yuan had become a cat instead, Dan Heng feared that he would not be able to take him seriously at all.
“Call me crazy,” March purred, and another paw had joined the pile on top of his head. Dan Heng shook them off, and turned to look at March. “We’re currently blessed with the power of cuteness, and all, so… This is actually the perfect time to execute the Plan! Not only that, isn’t the General a huge cat person?”
“We are not going to manipulate him to like me more because I am now a cat,” Dan Heng gritted his teeth, the sound of his voice coming out in a low growl. “But I guess I have no choice, because I would much rather tell him about what happened in Penacony before someone else overdramatises what actually happened in Ena’s Dream.”
“Hah, I told you he was going to tell Jing Yuan about that eventually!” March giggled, but that giggle came out more like a series of little chirps.
“I will, but I was planning to tell him that, and then find out if he felt inclined to help me because he saw —,” Dan Heng looked down at his feet sheepishly, backtracking on his words. “Never mind, I’ve already decided against the original plan, there’s no point in explaining it. I’ll think of another.”
“Because you thought he still saw you as Dan Feng? Wow, Dan Heng, you’re probably the smartest one of the three of us, but sometimes, you’re really a dumbass,” Stelle flopped over in mock exasperation, rolling onto her back with her paw over her face. She moved her paw to glare at March, and Dan Heng could hear the smirk in her voice, “And I told you that he would backtrack and stop himself. This is why our intervention was necessary!”
Dan Heng cringed at how uncomfortably perceptive she was. While she was not wrong, it was complicated. He repeated that to the girls, who both rolled their eyes at him.
“Yeah, yeah, that’s the number-one excuse in the book all romantic protagonists say to stop themselves from doing what needs to be done,” Stelle’s tail smacked at him in annoyance, and Dan Heng gently, slowly trapped it with his paw, before letting it shrink back towards Stelle as if his action had offended her.
“You don’t have to do this alone, Dan Heng, maybe it’ll help if you explain it to us? Maybe an outside perspective could help you figure things out?” March offered instead; this, he was much more willing to listen to. Still, was it a breach of Jing Yuan’s privacy to tell the girls about their messy past?
“It’s been a while since Himeko and Welt left,” Dan Heng tried to change the topic, but to no avail. The two girls simply stared at him flatly, unanimously unconvinced. Dan Heng eyed the door, hoping that the door to the Passenger Cabin was left open. He could jump up and over them, and make a break for it.
“Nuh-uh, you’re in Starch Detainment until they return, and you’re going to spill the tea,” Stelle and March had assembled before him, as the so-called ‘Starch Detainment Unit’, blocking off his path. Their tails curled and weaved behind them, crossing over each other’s, barring his exit.
Fine, if this was what they wanted, then Dan Heng would drop some ‘ hot tea ’ on them.
“The… fanfiction, is based on a true story,” he started, and Stelle had already slapped her paw over March’s gasp to silence her imminent yapping. “However, it is complicated precisely because Yingxing… The person who used to be Blade, and Dan Feng, used to be zhiji, which is a term that we use in the Xianzhou dialect that is roughly equivalent to… life partners?”
March gasped again, but choked as soon as Stelle’s paw entered her mouth.
It was hard to translate that word into the universal language, but perhaps they did not need to know the intricacies about the word’s origin. However, from the sound that came out of Stelle, it seemed she had scored in her hypothesis.
“So they were homies, and kissed the homies goodnight?” Stelle confirmed helpfully, in the terms she understood. Close enough; Dan Heng supposed she got the point.
“You mean they were married? But how does Jing Yuan come into the picture?” March asked after batting away Stelle’s paw, but from the tone of her meow he could imagine her raising an accusatory eyebrow at him.
“Not exactly, no. From what I recall, they were never married. I would imagine the Preceptors looked down on their union. There was a pair of bracers that Dan Feng crafted by hand, one for each of them — you may see them as emotionally, psychologically telepathic and location-tracking wedding bands. Thus, the public knew of their relationship. But Jing Yuan…”
The sound of small footsteps from the corridor outside Dan Heng’s room made the three of them turn — to see Pom-Pom in his doorway, with a large tray of tiny breakfast treats. They had been cut into smaller pieces for their convenience, and neatly lined up on flat plates. The warm scent of dianxin for him, colourful fruit tarts for March, and an assortment of bread for Stelle.
“Pom-Pom has returned with an update, and some brunch,” They set down the tray behind Dan Heng’s chair, on the floor after the foot of his bed. “Ruan Mei is en-route back to the Space Station, and will board the Express in an hour’s time. For now, please rest and enjoy your food!”
As they chanted their ‘thank you’s, Pom-Pom gently placed their paw on each of their heads, beaming. Even their feline charm was not lost on their Conductor; Dan Heng thought this was some kind of retribution for March, who often treated their Conductor like her own plush toy. He waited for Pom-Pom to leave, and hear the tell-tale click of the door to the Passenger Cabin, before he continued, leaving his piping hot dianxin for later.
“Mm,” Stelle prompted impatiently with her mouth full, having already pounced on her first victim, some ham and cheese bread, “pwfease comftimew.”
“Jing Yuan seemed to have feelings for both Dan Feng and Yingxing over the years he knew them. I'm not clear about the degree to which they were involved. From what I remember, Dan Feng had said something, about how Jing Yuan had followed him around since he was young enough to join the Cloud Knights. And how Yingxing and Jing Yuan almost grew up together, as much as a long-life species could with a short-life species. Somehow or other, the three of them got involved during this period. The rest of what comes after is history.”
The fall of the High Cloud Quintet was self-explanatory, and Dan Heng also did not want to go through the tiring history of the end of his past incarnation’s life.
He had painted a far rosier picture than the truth. The truth was that Jing Yuan had watched Yingxing grow up, and age, and eventually pass on in the span of a handful of decades, through his early adulthood. The long-life species had the luxury to enjoy their two hundred years of childhood, but short-life species had a tenth of that time, forced to grow up faster and stronger within the limitations of their mortality. Time passed more quickly for Yingxing than Jing Yuan, who languidly matured over the years that Yingxing grew silver.
The Jing Yuan, from Dan Feng’s memories and Yingxing’s words, was childishly eager and overly earnest to prove himself, just like how he had let his guard down in battle just to grin at Dan Feng. This was a far cry from the Jing Yuan he knew now, who was kind and wise, but also shrewdly cunning and observant, waiting for the opponent to reveal their flaws before acting. The fall of the Quintet, the death of his ex-lovers, and his installment as General had been the source of this change. Deep down, a selfish part of Dan Heng wished that he should not have had to experience that kind of pain, but that pain was necessary for growth, and the resulting person would not be the very same Jing Yuan of the present.
Dan Heng raised his head to see the two girls gawking at him mid-chew. Amused, he reached for his first meal of the day, a quarter of a steamed meat bun, and attempted to pick it up with his paws. The lack of opposable thumbs made eating awkward, but he managed. He’d rather not eat off the plate like Stelle, if he could.
“So Jing Yuan was the secret side hoe?”
Dan Heng almost choked on his bun, swallowing the piping hot snack and nearly screaming at how it scalded through his oesophagus. He unsheathed his claws at Stelle in a mock threat, who ducked away with another bread in her mouth, cowering behind March.
“You will not refer to him with those words,” He hissed, the sound of his voice more scalding than the bun he had swallowed. Those hot words had left him faster than he could reel them in. Dan Heng tucked his paw away meekly, regretfully. March reached over to smack Stelle on the back of her head with a hollow sound of a thump.
He winced on her behalf, stuffing his mouth with another section of a steamed bun, surprised at his unexpected outburst. Stelle was not wrong; it did seem that way. Without a complete picture, Dan Heng did not want to draw that conclusion, but he wanted to believe the better outcome, for Jing Yuan’s sake.
They both apologised at the same time, and they fell into silence again. March perked up, after finishing the last of her fruit tart, “Dan Heng, do you trust him?”
Dan Heng watched her carefully, but he could not find any shred of mischief in her eyes. He nodded, choosing to stay silent. Of course he did; he trusted Jing Yuan with his life. He had already done so before, even if he had not realised it. He’d do it again.
“Then what are you worried about?” March continued, tilting her head to the side. “If you can’t speak honestly to someone you trust, then who would you speak to? Just be honest, and tell him everything!”
He contemplatively stuffed his mouth with another bun. She was right; he had no reason to be worried or afraid, but still, he was afraid — afraid of being no different from Dan Feng, and screwing up just like he had. The dreams that occurred in the later parts of Dan Feng’s life revealed the ever growing complex ball of unresolved feelings he had towards Jing Yuan, which was left for Dan Heng to solve. The worries from the night before began to eat away at his heart guiltily again.
I never told him, were the words he had heard from Dan Feng’s broken psyche, as he hung from the Shackling Prison. He never told Jing Yuan what, exactly? Dan Heng never found out, because there was no way to communicate with a pain-crazed, guilt-riddled old man.
Ultimately, March was right. He should not let Jing Yuan wait any longer; he had already waited longer than Dan Heng was alive for. This time, he could change things, and change them for the better. He would communicate and be honest with him, and tell him everything that needed to be told, to do what Dan Feng had not. They both had a few hundred years left, at best, before their own mortality got to them, so he had to make the best of it.
“Whenever you need help, just call on us!”
“Starch Wingwomen, at your service!”
“Okay, March, hear me out, Wingkitties sounds cuter, because you know, we’re cats now.”
“But that doesn’t mean we still aren’t wingwomen? Our current cat form does not erase our gender identity? Did you take your e-pills today, or cat-pills instead?”
“I mean, the three of us are technically cat-pilled, because of those chocolates. Right, we both have not taken those. Good answer, gotta eat those later.”
Dan Heng snorted at their antics, resuming his focus on his breakfast. He looked down at his tray of food before him, noting that he was left with small sections of a fried mantou, with creamy white condensed milk drizzled across their small golden-brown forms. This, he gingerly ate off the plate, careful not to stain his paws. The soft bread blended perfectly with the sticky sweetness of milk, eliciting a purr out of him before he could stop himself. It was both warm, soft and familiar, like a nice, sweet hug from the inside.
“I’ll let you know if I need your help,” He answered, after they were done bickering, “please don’t leak any essential information. Whatever we discussed about Jing Yuan today stays between the Express, okay?”
“Fine, fine, Mr Confidential Information,” Stelle grumbled, eyeing his last mantou hungrily. He dragged his plate towards him cautiously, not about to give up his own soft, sweet goodness to the hungry predator across from him. “You can trust us. We’re paying it forward to you.”
“Why don’t we head back to the Luofu for a break? Penacony was crazy, I need a chill, familiar place to relax for a bit,” March gave him what Stelle called a ‘bombastic side eye’, and her whiskers almost seemed to curl in glee. “Plus, I’m sure there’s many parts of the Luofu left unexplored… Like our General’s house, for example, but I’ll leave that to you, Dan Heng!”
Dan Heng cringed as the girls’ giggles filled the room. He had visited the General’s estate just once, during their Lunar New Year reunion, but the girls did not need to know that. He was not going to supplement their overactive imaginations with more fodder for a potential ‘Starch-original fanfiction’.
“Don’t says that, things may not go that well,” Dan Heng felt the cringe crumple his fur and crinkle his tail uncomfortably, as he squeezed past them. This time, they let him go without question.
“Dan Heng, don’t jinx it,” Stelle swiped at him, but he sprang out of the way. “Now is not the time to temper your expectations by preparing yourself for the worst.”
“Not jinxing it, I’m being realistic,” he grumbled, turning towards his door. It was about time for their guests to arrive, and frankly he did not want to continue Starch Detainment against his will. He left the girls to their gossip as he headed towards the Passenger Cabin’s door. The door’s handle was at an insurmountable height, and not designed for creatures smaller than their Conductor.
“Aeons, I can’t believe Dan Heng literally came out to us,” March gushed from his room. “I mean, we could guess, because of that CPR incident, but still! He didn’t deny anything!”
He groaned and tucked himself into the chair by the door, anxiously waiting for help to come. With his new form, he was appalled at how much better his hearing had improved, much to his detriment at this moment. Still, he couldn’t help but listen in, filled with morbid curiosity and embarrassment in equal measure.
The CPR incident. That was what March had dubbed the time where he tried to give CPR to an unconscious Stelle, back in the Space Station when they had first met. Dan Heng had not known what he was doing, having acted on instincts and some information he struggled to recall from books, in his panic. He almost regretted using that very incident in his argument as the basis to convince March to talk to Stelle about her own feelings. There was no other reason why she would hold a petty grudge against him for his initial reaction towards Stelle passed out cold, and slumped against the wall.
“Silence is not denial,” Stelle stated matter-of-factly, and from echolocation he surmised that she was near Dan Heng’s door. “Pretty sure he can still hear us, March, please reduce the yap level to three.”
“Oops! Sorry!“
He opened an eye to see a pink triangle — March’s ear, and a bright pink-blue eye dart back behind the corner. Stelle ignored her antics, running up to the door with an offensively loud meow.
”Free us!” Scratch, scratch, scratch. “Pom-Pooom! Himekoo, and Uncle Yaaang!!”
“Stelle,” Dan Heng snapped, resisting the urge to shrivel up into a condensed ball from the krrr krrr of her scratching. “If you leave permanent scratch marks, Pom-Pom may flay you for your hide.”
Instantly, the scratching stopped, and Stelle froze fearfully at the door, which suddenly zipped past them like a speeding train, disappearing into the crack in the wall. The gust of air that came at them blew Stelle backwards in a mighty flip, as the looming form of Pom-Pom’s shadow spilled into the shape of the doorway. March squeaked, running over to Dan Heng as if he could save her. Dan Heng merely observed the door behind the Conductor, and caught a glimpse of their guest.
“You’re all already here!” Pom-Pom exclaimed happily, clapping their hands together. Stelle recovered quickly, her tail sheepishly hanging low behind her. For her sake, Dan Heng was glad that Pom-Pom was happy, and fully oblivious to what she had been doing.
“Excellent,” Herta’s haughty voice drifted over as she stalked towards them, rising above Pom-Pom in the door frame. “Let’s get this over and done with. Come, Little Miss Stellaron, the pink-haired one, and Dan Heng.”
“Why does Dan Heng get to be called by his name?” March whined to no one in particular as her ears flattened towards the back of her head. Dan Heng quickly made his way past Herta before she could grab at him.
“Because I say so,” Herta was smug, holding two fingers to her temple, as she smirked at March slyly. She continued to drawl with her usual patronising tone, not minding the shocked expressions on March’s face. “Don’t waste my precious time, I’ve sold off so many synesthesia beacons in exchange for your research data. Even Ruan Mei made time to come back from her trip to see you scoundrels.”
“Dan Heng Xiansheng,” A gentle voice like a passing breeze greeted him in the Xianzhou dialect. He looked up from an elegant pair of flower embroidered shoes to see the researcher’s light smile. Her eyes lacked the warmth of her voice, but it was not unkind, but technical — he felt as if each sweep of her gaze dissected him into smaller parts for her study.
“Ruan Mei Xiaojie,” Dan Heng greeted in kind, noting her small nod. It seemed that Herta’s trade — the three of them as research material, in exchange for the synesthesia beacons — had already taken effect. A tall, multi-layered trolley stood proudly next to her, decorated in the same fine embroidery that curled around Ruan Mei’s dress. She flipped open the cloth cover to reveal a deep lower compartment, large enough to fit two cats, and a shallower, compartment higher up on the trolley, containing Himeko’s and Welt’s chocolate boxes.
“Chop chop, no time to waste,” Herta snapped her puppet’s fingers, the clicking sharper and higher pitched, much like the sound of high-heels on a marble floor. “I need all this information for the Simulated Universe. Stelle, stop squirming!”
Dan Heng turned around to see Herta struggle to lift, and walk with, a long grey tower of cat. Her tail dragged against the floor hopelessly as she was dumped into an ungainly heap in the lowest compartment of the trolley.
“Can’t believe we’ve been sold off just like that,” Stelle grumbled under her breath, ears pressed back against her head. March was picked up more gently, and with more grace than her partner was, and tucked in nicely next to Stelle by a careful Ruan Mei. Dan Heng merely looked between the three of them as Ruan Mei detached the top layer, releasing a hidden handle, and placed it on the floor. This was his ride.
“We’ll see you soon,” Himeko crouched down to their eye level. “I hope the research bears fruit, and hopefully, you’ll be back to your normal selves soon enough.”
“We will send you a comprehensive report of our findings. I will only need a few hours to look into this, provided things go smoothly,” Ruan Mei lifted him up towards the trolley, and his basket clicked securely above the girls’. He pawed at the two boxes of chocolates at his side, finding that they were still cold to the touch. “How long will you need, Herta?”
“Not sure. That depends on how long you take to extract the ingredients and effects from the chocolates. How long will I need? I’ll keep them for as long as I’m able to; I want to see how this change can benefit the Simulated Universe. Can we agree on this, Himeko?”
Himeko rose, placing her hand on Dan Heng’s basket, as she glanced at Herta from the corner of her eye. From the small stitch in her brow, and lingering hand, he knew she was deeply worried about them leaving the Express for too long, even if they were going into the care of trusted hands. Dan Heng placed his paw lightly on her fingers, hoping that the action would provide her some reassurance. The grateful, tired smile he received told him it was enough for her.
Himeko shared a look with Welt as he approached. They came to a silent, worried agreement, before they were shipped off into the Genius Society’s lab. Dan Heng watched through a gap through the basket’s handle and the cloth, as the sight of the Express’ doors faded out of reach.
