The early morning sun cast a golden glow over the Midnight City shore, the waves rolling in steady sets, perfect for surfing. Ao Bing stood at the edge of the shoreline, his board tucked under his arm, staring out at the water. A few days had passed since the last incident with the demon and run-in with Yi Zichen. However, while Ao Bing had been looking forward to a peaceful morning surf, there he was--Yi Zichen, already out in the water, paddling smoothly across the glassy surface.

What if the two of us just happen to find ourselves on the beach again with our surfboards? Ao Bing recalled the last thing Yi Zichen said to him the other night. We could catch some waves, enjoy the ocean, and leave it at that.

For a moment, Ao Bing hesitated. It might be better to just stay out of sight and avoid engaging with Yi Zichen altogether. But then, as if sensing him from across the ocean, Yi Zichen turned towards Ao Bing and made direct eye contact. 

It’s just surfing, Ao Bing told himself as Yi Zichen waved in his direction. He could manage this.

With a quiet sigh, Ao Bing paddled out to meet him.

The earlier night, there had been a bit of awkwardness surrounding the unspoken tension hanging in the air between them. Neither of them seemed to know exactly what to do with that tension, but now, watching Yi Zichen in the water, that unease seemed to melt away, replaced by something simpler. As soon as they were both in the water, it seemed all of the unsettled energy from the earlier days dissolved. It was just them, their boards, and the rhythm of the waves. The ocean’s pull took over, and suddenly there were two bodies in motion, circling each other like planets in orbit. Neither spoke much, and it felt right that way--just the pure focus of riding the waves, chasing the rush.

A few times, Yi Zichen wiped out, his board flipping out from under him as he tumbled into the water. Ao Bing, watching from a distance, couldn’t help himself. Spending the last century as a surf instructor, it was second nature for him to want to help. Gliding over to Yi Zichen, he offered tips on how to position his weight or time his pop-up better.

“You’re coming up too early,” Ao Bing said. “Wait for the wave to lift you before you stand.”

Yi Zichen was quick to adjust, nodding and taking the advice in stride. He wiped out a few more times, but each time he got back up, he improved. To Ao Bing’s surprise, Yi Zichen was a fast learner, quicker than most people he’d worked with  before. Despite himself, Ao Bing was impressed.

“Not bad,” Ao Bing said, with a reluctant smile after Yi Zichen managed to ride a wave all the way to shore. 

They surfed for about an hour and a half, riding wave after wave until their muscles were tired and the sun climbed higher in the sky. Eventually, they paddled back to shore, breathless and ripping with saltwater. Yi Zichen, his light brown hair sticking up in damp curls, shook out his board and glanced over at Ao Bing, his big eyes shining in the sun.

“I packed breakfast,” Yi Zichen said casually, gesturing toward a small cooler he left with his belongings. “Why don’t you join me? Just some coffee and a few things I grabbed from my pantry.”

Ao Bing hesitated. Was this planned? Did he know I’d be out here this morning?  But then again, it didn’t matter. He shrugged off his reservations. 

“Sure, why not.”

They sat together on the sand, the soft crashing of the waves in the background as Yi Zichen opened the cooler and laid out a simple spread--fruit, pastries, and a thermos of coffee. Ao Bing sipped his drink, his guard lowering just slightly as the ocean breeze cooled his skin.

They continued talking for a while, mostly about surfing. Yi Zichen shared the story of how he was gifted his custom surfboard by a client—a once-famous surfer who had lost a limb in an accident. Ao Bing listened attentively, occasionally nodding or throwing in a thoughtful comment, but mostly observing the way Yi Zichen seemed to light up when recounting the tale. There was something genuine about the way he spoke, a candidness that reminded Ao Bing of someone in his past.

A sudden gust of wind swept across the beach, and Yi Zichen shivered visibly, rubbing his hands together in a futile attempt to warm up. “It’s freezing,” he muttered through chattering teeth. “Aren’t you cold?”

Ao Bing glanced at him, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “It gets even colder, where I’m from,” he said simply. “I guess I’m just used to it.”

“Nice for you,” Yi Zichen muttered, wrapping his arms tightly around himself. “Meanwhile, I’m over here slowly turning into a human popsicle.”

Ao Bing sighed softly, more amused than annoyed, and stood up to walk over to where he left his small backpack. He came back with his jacket and threw it over Yi Zichen’s shoulders without a word.

Yi Zichen blinked, momentarily stunned. “You don’t have to—”

“If you keep shaking like that, I’ll start to think you’re having a seizure.”

Yi Zichen gave a sheepish laugh, pulling the jacket tighter around him. 

The conversation eventually drifted toward more personal topics. Yi Zichen, curious but cautious, asked a few casual questions about Ao Bing’s life. 

“So, how did you end up teaching people how to surf?” he asked, taking a sip of his drink.

Ao Bing shrugged, choosing his words carefully. “It’s one of the few things I’m good at,” he said simply. 

Yi Zichen nodded. “Have you been doing it long?”

“On and off,” Ao Bing replied. “I like to travel, so sometimes I’ll teach somewhere for a while and then move on.”

“Sounds like you’ve seen a lot of places,” Yi Zichen remarked, tilting his head. “Any favorites?”

Ao Bing hesitated for a moment, as if considering how much to share. “A few,” he admitted, “but there’s still more to see.”

Yi Zichen took another sip of his coffee, studying Ao Bing with continued curiosity. “So what brought you to Midnight City?” he asked, his tone casual but laced with genuine interest. “I mean, there are a lot of places to teach surfing—why here?”

Ao Bing opened his mouth to respond, but caught himself, feeling a familiar tightness in his chest. What was he doing? Still, the words slipped out before he could stop them. “My uncle… he’s sick,” he said quietly, almost as if he was talking to himself. “He… doesn’t have much time left.”

Yi Zichen’s expression softened. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said sincerely, his voice low. “It must be hard.”

“It’s fine,” Ao Bing said quickly, his voice clipped, as if trying to seal off that part of the conversation. “He’s… he’s a strong person. He’s seen a lot in his time.”

“Sounds like he’s important to you,” Yi Zichen commented, his tone more gentle now. He wasn’t prying, but there was a sincerity in his words that made it difficult for Ao Bing to brush off.

“He is,” Ao Bing replied after a pause.

Yi Zichen didn’t push further, sensing Ao Bing’s discomfort. Instead, he offered a sympathetic smile. “It’s good you’re here for him.”

Ao Bing’s body stiffened, his throat tightening as he realized he had let his guard down. What am I doing? he thought, a flicker of alarm crossing his face. He hadn’t meant to open up, and yet here he was, revealing parts of his life to a near-stranger.

Abruptly, he stood, brushing the sand off his legs. “I…I have to go,” Ao Bing said, avoiding eye contact. “Thanks for breakfast.”

Yi Zichen looked surprised. “Did I say something wrong?”

Before Ao Bing could respond, Yi Zichen removed his sunglasses, which he’d been wearing since they swam up to shore. As the sun hit Yi Zichen’s face, Ao Bing noticed the rich color of Yi Zichen’s irises--greens, browns, and flecks of yellow, which seemed to catch the sunlight and refract it like a prism.

They were like a forest at dawn, when the first rays of sunlight filtered through the pine trees, illuminating the vibrant greens, the earthy browns of the bark, and the golden patches where the light hit the forest floor. 

In all the days that Ao Bing had run into Yi Zichen--during late night encounters or brief moments in passing--he had never truly noticed the color of Yi Zichen’s eyes. But now, in the golden light of the morning, he saw them clearly for the first time. It was like something struck him directly in the chest.

That same impossible combination of greens, browns, and yellows. 

Ao Bing’s heart pounded, a tightening sensation growing in his chest. The last time he had seen eyes like that had been so long ago, and yet here they were, staring back at him, as if three hundred years hadn’t passed at all.

“You’re asking too many questions,” Ao Bing snapped, his voice harsher than he intended. 

Yi Zichen blinked in confusion, taken aback by the sudden aggression in Ao Bing’s tone.

“Wait, what?” Yi Zichen stammered, trying to understand where the anger was coming from, but Ao Bing didn’t let him finish.

“I need to go,” Ao Bing said sharply. 

Without waiting for Yi Zichen’s response, Ao Bing walked away, leaving him behind on the beach, stunned and confused. 

***

That same morning, at a small coffee shop in the upper side of Midnight City, Sun Wukong was enjoying a warm matcha latte when her phone rang in her purse. She answered a video call, with Erlang Shen and Hei Wu on the other side of her screen. 

“What?” Sun Wukong quipped, showing her latte to Erlang Shen. “I’m off duty and you’re bothering me.”

Erlang Shen ignored her and cut straight to the point. “It’s about the mortal, Yi Zichen. General Hei and I were discussing it, and I think there’s no way around it--we need to get him to the CIA and figure out how he’s able to sense these demons and see these red auras when even we can’t.”

Hēi Wú tilted his head slightly, his sharp eyes narrowing behind his wire-rimmed glasses. “It’s becoming more and more clear the demons are being manipulated by an outside force, and this aura might be the key to discovering who is behind it.”

Sun Wukong took a sip of her latte. “But we’re not supposed to drag mortals into celestial matters.”

Erlang Shen snorted from his side of the screen. “Since when do you care about the rules, Yanling? You’ve made a career out of bending, breaking, and outright ignoring them.”

She shot him an annoyed look. “So you’re tasking me with forcing him into this?”

Erlang Shen leaned closer to the camera, his sharp eyes focused on Sun Wukong. “You’re the one who can operate outside the rules, Yanling. That’s why I need you to handle this. You don’t represent any realm, and that’s exactly why you’re the right one to operate outside the lines of the Celestial rules.”

Hēi Wú spoke again, his voice calm but insistent. “The mortal child must agree to help, or we risk missing a crucial piece of this puzzle.”

Sun Wukong sighed, leaning back against her chair. “Fine, I’ll talk to Ao Bing.”

Erlang Shen and Hei Wu exchanged confused glances on her phone screen. Ao Bing?

Noticing this, she waved them off and said, “Don’t worry. I’ve got this.”

Sun Wukong hung up the call and finished her latte. She had a feeling things were going to get even more complicated.