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“We’re here. Give me just a second to talk to these guys first.”
Han Bing keeps his face carefully blank as Zhai Li turns off the truck. Obviously they’re here, or they wouldn’t be stopping - what else is there to pull off the road for in the middle of the woods? But she’s doing him a favor and he’s promised himself that he’s going to be nice. Or, well, if not exactly nice, then at least polite. Even if he thinks there’s no point to this.
The murmuring of voices and steps across old wood grab Han Bing’s attention. Three voices to be exact: Zhai Li’s crisp no-nonsense questioning, a bright and almost melodic tone answering her, and then an even deeper rumble weaving in underneath. These must be the two witches that she’d told him could possibly help with his little problem.
Suddenly the conversation stops, and then two sets of footsteps begin approaching the car over soft ground. With a sigh, Han Bing feels for the door handle and then slides out of Zhai Li’s truck. Better to get this over with now, he supposes.
“You must be Han Bing,” the man with the lighter voice says, full of warmth. “I’m Ming Xia. Do you mind if I touch your arm?” Han Bing nods, not used to people asking permission to poke and prod, and yet feeling strangely grateful for it. Gentle fingers come to rest at his wrist. Ming Xia lingers here for a minute, as though he’s waiting for something in particular. But after a few moments he releases Han Bing’s wrist with a curious hum. “There’s one more thing I need to check, though I’ll need to step closer to you and place my hands on your neck and face. Is that alright?”
“Whatever you need to do,” Han Bing agrees much more quickly than he intended. Ming Xia moves close enough that they must be nearly chest-to-chest, and then his hands come to frame both sides of his face. He holds this position. Han Bing tries not to fidget, or to think too much about how he can hear Ming Xia’s breathing, or how his own heart is suddenly pounding.
After an excruciating minute, Ming Xia makes a satisfied noise and steps back. “That’s what I thought. You were right, Zhai Li, it’s definitely a curse,” he turns and calls to the other two standing behind him. Then he twists back to Han Bing and lightly touches his shoulder. “And I’m certain that between Lie Yan and myself, we’ll be able to get it out of you and get your vision back, Han Bing.”
It seems, however, that the removal of whatever curse has stolen Han Bing’s eyesight is going to be a process. So after ensuring that all the arrangements are in order, Zhai Li drives off without him, and Han Bing is left to settle into the cabin with his new hosts. They have a small spare room that Lie Yan moves Han Ying’s duffel bag of clothing and personal items into while Ming Xia helps him get accustomed to moving around a new space (“I was actually blind once, for a while, so just let me know if there’s anything we can rearrange to make the cabin easier for you to navigate”). He doesn’t bother explaining that some of his other preternaturally enhanced senses that are currently helping to make up some of the gap for his lost vision. He’s hoping that he won’t be here long enough for it to come up. He wants to be back out in the field where he belongs. Where he has to belong.
At least they wait until after dinner to interrogate Han Bing - though he has to admit it’s the gentlest interrogation he’s ever experienced.
“So what exactly happened, right before you started feeling the impact of the curse?” Ming Xia asks. “Was it immediate, or a delayed effect?”
Han Bing’s old training almost takes over, and he has to consciously force himself to relax. They need this information to assist him. “I was with a few of my comrades from the 701 clearing out a - wait, you are aware of what the 701 does, right?” It’s not exactly common knowledge that there’s an entire hidden government agency that helps deal with the sorts of unusual situations that can’t be handled through the normal channels, no matter what people theorize about on social media.
Lie Yan’s deep chuckle washes over him. Han Bing doesn’t hate it. “This isn’t the first time Zhai Li has used either of us for consulting. We’re aware.”
Fine then. Han Bing continues. “Anyway, we were clearing out an abandoned village that had turned into a jiangshi nest. It was basically ruins, no hint of humans or any other living beings nearby. It should’ve been easy work. All we had left to do was cleanse the last few buildings, but the second I stepped into the old coffin house, some kind of hidden array activated, and…” He gestures towards his eyes.
Ming Xia hums, deep in thought. “Did anyone sketch out the array, by any chance?”
“No.” Han Bing shakes his head. “It burned itself up upon activation, apparently.”
He expects Ming Xia to sigh, or at least sound disappointed. But instead he can practically hear the other man smiling. He doesn’t know how that’s possible. “Oh well,” Ming Xia chirps brightly. “It would’ve made things easier to have a few more details, but it’s nothing Yan’er and I can’t handle between the two of us. It’ll just take a bit longer.”
Han Bing schools his features to make sure that the disappointment doesn’t show. It is what it is. “Whatever you need to do.”
Lie Yan stands, and Han Bing hears the sounds of him beginning to clear the table. “Unfortunately between the remoteness of our setup here and all the wards we’ve put up, there’s really not anything in the way of cell reception or even WiFi. We do go to town a few times a week, and there’s an internet cafe there. You’re welcome to join on those trips while you’re our guest.” Han Bing nods and makes a non-committal noise. He’s not exactly the most online person he knows anyway. He enjoys the forest, and too many people around can make him anxious.
Once Han Bing’s been cheerfully and forcefully banished to the couch to relax by Ming Xia, he listens as the two men finish the cleaning up and start to move through their nightly routine. Soft voices, teasing and affectionate, pique his interest without him realizing it. There’s something about the way that they move around each other, almost orbit-like. All Zhai Li had told him was that they were partners in disentangling magical conundrums, though he’s beginning to have other suspicions. Before he’s even conscious of doing it, Han Bing lets down the guard on his other sight, the one not damaged by the curse, just to see if…
Sure enough, both men give off a soft but unmistakable glow of color. Ming Xia pulses a pleasant orange-yellow that reminds Han Bing of a sunrise. Lie Yan on the other hand gives off a vibrant green, like the color of spring moss. It’s a surprise - even among gifted humans and other supernatural creatures, it’s rare for him to see someone’s color like this. He’s almost never encountered two at once.
Han Bing keeps turning this odd coincidence over in his mind long after he’s retired to his room. It’s almost enough to keep him from noticing that when Ming Xia and Lie Yan finally go to bed themselves, they go to the same room.
Almost.
Tucking that inexplicably interesting fact away, Han Bing drops all his senses and lets sleep take him.
“You afraid of needles?”
Han Bing would laugh, except he’d like to know exactly where that question is leading before he comments. Ming Xia had just cleared away breakfast the next morning when Lie Yan had pulled him away to his workshop and sat Han Bing down for a consultation.
“Why exactly are you asking?”
Lie Yan chuckles. “I’ll just assume Zhai Li hasn’t told you how I work. I’m a bit of a specialist when it comes to curses. I dabble in all sorts of things - protection charms, memory recovery - but curses are where I thrive.”
Han Bing can’t stop the next question from leaving his mouth. “Casting them, or breaking them?” This earns him a full bark of laughter. Han Bing ignores the way it warms him from the inside.
“Both, depending on when you knew me. Currently, I stick to the unraveling side of things though. Which brings me to my point - have you ever been tattooed before?” Han Bing shakes his head, and Lie Yan continues. “It’s how I channel my magic. Once Ming Xia has finished identifying everything we need about your specific trouble, we’ll plan the design and then finish it over multiple sessions.”
“Will it have to be that large?” Han Bing can’t help but ask.
“Not at all. It’s more that everything has to be done in specific stages, and the enchantments within each step allowed time to settle in before layering on the next.” After a pause, Han Bing hears Lie Yan shift. “Are you okay with this?”
“Whatever you have to do,” Han Bing answers immediately.
There’s another pause, and Han Bing has the strongest sense he’s being considered. “You say that a lot, Han Bing. Did you realize that?”
Han Bing merely shrugs, and Lie Yan has the grace to let it go.
The temperature drops that night, late autumn settling in with intent. But inside the cabin the fireblaze is blazing, the couch is comfortable, and Han Bing finds himself more relaxed than he can ever remember as Ming Xia reads out loud from a book after dinner. Ming Xia insisted this was just what they normally do, but Han Bing can’t help but feel like this might be another small grace extended to him.
It’s a strange concept.
This is how the days go.
Mornings are spent with Ming Xia. Some of the time Ming Xia is examining him very much how he did the first day they met, getting a feel for the flow of Han Bing’s own magic and how the curse is fighting against his energy, twisting it. Sometimes he’s simply in the same room as Ming Xia pokes through old tomes, tracking down exactly what sort of array unleashed the hex on him. Han Bing feels somewhat odd at first, just sitting around and not doing anything. Shouldn’t he be doing something? But Ming Xia’s warmth settles him sooner rather than later, and he finds that the other man is more than capable of keeping up a steady flow of conversation without much input from himself. It’s relaxing. Han Bing almost can’t remember the last time he relaxed.
The afternoons, however, are spent with Lie Yan. At first they’re just working on the design for the tattoo - something that’s a bit of a tricky process, given the fact that Han Bing can’t exactly see the artwork that Lie Yan is coming up with.
The first thing Lie Yan asks for is an idea for the shape the tattoo will take.
Han Bing blinks. “Isn’t that something you should decide?”
Lie Yan hums. “The core idea of it - it should come from you. I know how to wind the intentions into the ink, what I need to do in order to imbue the tattoo with power and protection. But the shape itself should come from you. It helps if it’s something important to you. Personal.”
“Ah. One moment.” Han Bing retreats to his room and digs through his duffel bag to find a small object, but an important one he always brings with him. His fingers find the small case quickly enough, and then he returns to Lie Yan. “Would something like this work for the uh, inspiration?” He feels Lie Yan’s fingers gently take the object from him. “It’s the only thing I have from my mother.”
When Lie Yan answers, his voice is thick with reverence. “It’ll be perfect.”
That evening, Lie Yan keeps knocking his knee against Han Bing’s on the couch as Ming Xia reads. It’s not horrible.
After several weeks. Ming Xia’s research is complete, and Lie Yan is ready to begin putting ink to skin.
The first session doesn’t take long - Lie Yan is just doing the line work today, and then they’ll need to let it rest for several days while the enchantments settle in and start to work. Han Bing is surprised though by how much he enjoys it. He hadn’t been honestly scared of the possible pain, not with his background. But from the moment the tattoo gun had touched his skin, he’d been shocked by how his mind had just gone-
Quiet. Truly quiet, for the first time in years. Thoughts flitting in and out of his head, but not sticking around long enough for him to analyze them or worry over them. He’s totally in his body for every moment that Lie Yan works. Not in his head. Not in the forest. Not in a field, watching his mother die.
Lie Yan is finished before Han Bing realizes, and has to rouse him. “C’mon, you need some water and a snack after this. And don’t think you can escape it, Ming Xia will kill both of us if you don’t let him take care of you.”
For once, Han Bing doesn’t feel the urge to fight that kind of care.
It doesn’t hurt that Ming Xia’s hands are warm and gentle as he washes the fresh tattoo for Han Bing every night, and as he works little healing cantrips across his skin to speed the process along.
It hurts even less when Ming Xia and Lie Yan make sure to put him squarely between them on the large sofa during their nightly reading. Han Bing hardly even hears the words being spoken, he’s so aware of their twin heats pressing against him on both sides.
… he could get used to this.
A week later, Lie Yan starts coloring in the line work.
“This would take much longer between sessions if it weren’t for Ming Xia accelerating the healing, you know.”
Han Bing is so relaxed at this moment that he doesn’t think twice about his next statement. “I wouldn’t mind if it did take longer. It’s nice here.”
The needle pulls away for only a moment before it returns to his skin, but it’s long enough for Han Bing to realize that Lie Yan has noted his comment. Ah. Ah. He’s scrambling for something to say to ease the awkwardness - and since when has he cared about others’ awkward feelings? - but luckily he’s saved by Lie Yan changing the subject.
“Did you know? In Edo Japan, firefighters would get body suit tattoos of dragons. It was for protection against fires. The pain was meant to be payment for that protection.”
Han Bing doesn’t exactly follow, although it is an interesting fact. “Oh? I take it that body suit tattoos are quite… large?”
Lie Yan chuckles. “Yes, quite large. I do something similar for protection spells. They don’t have to be full body, but I’ve done some larger pieces. Full sleeves are particularly popular with a lot of my clientele, a sort of tapestry of different protections.” He takes a breath, as if weighing his next words, and then continues. “So, once this is done and your problem resolved… if you did want a piece that’ll take a little longer, you’re always welcome back. For however long you like.”
…
…
Han Bing is a little alarmed by how much he likes the idea of coming back, for as long as he likes.
A week later, they’re ready for the last session. The tattoo will be complete, and the curse will be removed. Overall, he should be happy! This entire unfortunate episode will be put behind him, he’ll be able to leave this cabin and return to his duties at the 701.
So why is he so miserable?
Han Bing thinks he’s done a good job hiding it, the last evening. He has dinner with his two hosts, per usual. Ming Xia reads to them afterwards, per usual. Over the weeks that he’s been here, their positions on the couch have moved closer and closer, so that now he’s cozily tucked between the two men, per usual. Arms and legs overlapping and heads on shoulders. Plus they both seem so happy that the curse is about to be broken, and Han Bing doesn’t want to ruin that for them.
So he’s almost taken by surprise later when they find him.
It’s past midnight, and he’s made his way out to the swing bench on the porch. He’s curled up with a quilt wrapped around his shoulders. His full attention is on the sounds of nighttime creatures moving through the forest - he’s sure he hears a mother possum scuttering through the dried leaves. A soft breeze blows steadily, rustling the pine needles against each other. He’s so focused that he doesn’t register the soft orange and green presences next to him until Ming Xia touches him on the knee.
“Bing’er, what on earth are you doing out here?” Ming Xia asks softly, obvious that he already has an idea in mind for what’s brought him outside.
Lie Yan settles down next to him on the bench swing. “You’re shivering, you know. Nervous about tomorrow?”
Han Bing tries to brush off their concerns. “No. I’ve trusted you - trusted you both, this far. I have complete faith that you’ll be able to fix me tomorrow.”
Ming Xia sits on his other side, and he tucks his hand into the blanket to slide their fingers together. “That wasn’t what he was asking, and you know it. How about you tell us what you’re actually out here running away from?”
Well, damn. Han Bing had hoped they wouldn’t notice - wouldn’t notice how much he’s come to care for this place. That they would overlook how much he doesn’t want to leave it. How he doesn’t want to leave them. But apparently his poker face isn’t as good as it once was.
“I never meant to overstep any bounds…” Han Bing begins carefully, hoping he can thread this needle and not destroy his chance to come back one day.
Lie Yan scoffs and wraps his arm around Han Bing’s shoulder. “A’Xia, I told you he wouldn’t realize. He’s as clueless as you used to be about these matters.”
Huh?
Ming Xia just laughs, though it’s not cold or mocking like Han Bing feared it might turn if these two ever saw what he was feeling. “Yan’er, you were worse than me. Don’t start.” He tugs Han Bing’s hand free of the blanket. “You, however, might be worse than both of us.” Soft lips press to the back of Han Bing’s hand, and he nearly stops breathing.
“You do have a point.” Lie Yan’s fingers come to rest at Han Bing’s jaw, and his thumb strokes the skin there. “Han Bing. Hear us both on this. You have a place here, whenever and for as long as you want it. Just because the curse gets broken, doesn’t mean you have to leave.”
Han Bing’s mind races. It's the thought he hasn't been able to speak out loud, how tempting the idea is of not returning back to the 701.
“But - you two - you’re already together and you barely know me and - “
“- technically we’ve both been inside you, one way or another,” Ming Xia muses, teasing, and it makes Han Bing choke on his next words and forget them entirely. "At least our magic."
“And,” Lie Yan takes over, “we both know when we have something good that we don’t want to let go of either.” He reaches up and tugs affectionately at a lock of Han Bing’s hair that’s fallen over his face. “We don’t have to figure out anything tonight. But come inside with us, okay? It’s chilly out here, and tomorrow’s a big day.”
Who can argue with that logic?
Together, they bundle Han Bing back inside. Warm cider is waiting on the stovetop for them, as well as sweet rolls that Ming Xia had just pulled from the oven - Han Bing supposes he isn’t the only one that couldn’t sleep. And once the last mouthful of cider is drunk and the final crumb has been eaten, they bundle him right into bed.
Their own bed, to everyone’s satisfaction.
The next afternoon, Han Bing waits with his eyes closed.
Lie Yan has just put the last touch on his piece, and he could feel the effect immediately. It’s as though a splinter that had been lodged just under his skin for ages has suddenly worked its way free, and nothing but warmth has followed in its wake.
He can feel Ming Xia and Lie Yan waiting, much more nervous than he is.
Ming Xia hums. “It’s a gorgeous piece - though I wasn’t expecting the harmonica. You’ll have to explain later, Bing’er.”
Lie Yan grunts. “It’s all for nothing if it didn’t work though.”
“Where’d all that confidence from earlier go, huh?” Han Bing asks, surprising a laugh out of Ming Xia.
“Oh, he always gets like this at the end of one of his spells. But I do agree with the point.” Ming Xia grasps one of his hands; Lie Yan takes the other. “Well, Bing’er? You tell us. Is the curse gone?”
It’s now or never, but he’s not worried. Not anymore.
Han Bing opens his eyes, and he sees his future standing in front of him.