Their flight lands in Shanghai at half past seven, still much too early to be awake in Sehun’s opinion, but Luhan buys him another bubble tea so it’s okay. It’s at this point that Sehun learns to appreciate the caffeine content.

Jongin, who’s still crashing from his three-day caffeine binge, is currently sleeping on Sehun’s shoulder, despite the fact that they’re walking out of the terminal. Sehun is not quite sure how this is physically possible, but then again, it’s Jongin and he’s always been an exception to most rules.

Apart from Jongin using him as a moving pillow, Sehun finds himself in a much lighter mood. Maybe it’s the fact that they’re in another country and it feels good to be a stranger, just another face in the crowd. As he finds out, it’s also rather annoying, because as a Korean, Sehun does not understand a single word of Chinese, spoken or written.

Luhan seems to take his duty as being the translator for everyone very seriously, pointing out at every single sign they pass by in the airport, despite the fact that there is English under each sign. But then, Sehun was never good at English to begin with, so he supposes Luhan’s translations are helpful.

“This is the bathroom,” Luhan announces as he points at a sign that is obviously one meant for ‘bathroom.’ “Ce suo. Bathroom. Now repeat after me, Sehun-ah.”

Sehun stares up at the figures drawn on the sign and looks at Luhan, not very amused. “Hyung, I think I can figure out signs for bathrooms. They all look the same in every country.”

“But what if you need to ask someone where it is?”

“I think the extent of the English vocabulary of the Chinese people includes ‘toilet,’” Sehun says haughtily, glaring at the bathroom sign. “I refuse to learn this word.”

Luhan shakes his head at Sehun’s stubborness and continues walking, scanning the crowd of people gathered at the exit gate. He seems to find the person he’s looking for, as he suddenly starts waving his arms and yelling “Minseok!”

A chubby-cheeked man heads over to them, a warm smile on his face. “Welcome back to China, Detective Luhan,” he says politely, before he notices Sehun standing nearby with an unconscious Jongin leaning against him. He stares, then turns to look at Luhan with mild curiosity. “This isn’t a kidnapping, is it?”

“No, he’s with us,” Luhan reassures.

“Oh, that’s a relief. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to use any of the chloroform in my trunk. That stuff is expensive, you know. But very practical.”

Sehun is starting to think that all of Luhan’s acquaintances should be classified as crazy people.

“Anyway, I’ve got the car parked out back. Should we get breakfast? I know a canto place nearby that serves good dim sum.”

Minseok leads them to a generic windowless white vehicle straight out of a kidnapping movie. All it’s missing is the ‘free candy’ sign. Sehun sighs and wishes they could afford cooler transportation, like maybe something out of a James Bond movie instead of a pedo van. Oh well, he can always dream.

Sehun unceremoniously shoves Jongin into the backseat, the sudden movement jostling him awake. Jongin yawns and stretches, managing to narrowly avoid punching Sehun in the face. “Where am I?”

“Not in Kansas anymore,” Sehun deadpans.

“Very funny.” Jongin looks around at the back of the car, raising an eyebrow at the containers of chemicals and copious amounts of rope. He picks up a roll of duct tape and gives Sehun a ‘seriously?’ look.

“So, planning to eviscerate me before or after we solve the case?”

“Not on my watch,” Minseok cuts in. “That’s a messy business, and it’s horrible cleaning up afterwards. That reminds me, about three years ago, there was this Ponzi scheme running in Hong Kong -”

Sehun automatically zones after that point, his intuitive sense having detected a ramble very similar to those Luhan is fond of. In the back of his mind, he vaguely notes that evisceration and Ponzi schemes should technically have nothing to do with each other, but then again, he’s used to non sequitur after years of living with Luhan.

Oddly, Jongin and Luhan actually seem interested in Minseok’s story, and Sehun is left alone to sulk and stare out the window. Except there is no window, so Sehun just stares gloomily at the side of the van while the others share stories about their previous escapades.

“- exported fake pineapples, and it took months before they got caught -”

Fake pineapples psh. Sehun crosses his arms and kicks at one of the rolls of duct tape.

After about half an hour, the van stops in front of a small but nice-looking hotel in a fairly busy part of the city. Probably four star, Sehun guesses.

“You’re going to need your passports for check-in. Call me if you need any help. Good luck!” Minseok drops them off at the entrance and drives away.

The man at the front desk says something to Sehun, probably along the lines of ‘how may I help you’. Sehun has no idea how to reply and nudges Luhan who thankfully takes over.

“I’d like to check-in. It should be booked under Kim Minseok,” Luhan says politely.

The man types something into the computer. “May I have your IDs? And proof of marriage.”

Luhan blinks. “Excuse me?”

“Madam, it is our policy to promote healthy social standards. I understand if you would like to share a room with your boyfriend but I’m afraid it’s against regulations.”

Of course, Sehun has no idea what’s going on but judging from the way Jongin starts cracking up, he assumes it’s something amusing.

“He’s not a girl,” Jongin manages to say in slightly accented Chinese. Sehun can’t tell if it’s the accent, or if Jongin is trying really hard not to laugh rudely. Luhan and the man at the counter start arguing over something and Sehun gets bored so he decides to wander off to the bathroom (Hmm, where is the bathroom).

After five minutes of wandering aimlessly around the lobby, Sehun gives up and asks someone ‘cesuo’ (because he’s decided to learn Chinese from Luhan after all) and they direct him to a side corridor, where a line of doors stretch endlessly in front of him. So much for figuring out where the bathroom is.

He pulls out his cellphone and opens up a game of minesweeper. The game gets boring after a while, although oddly fascinating, so he gives up playing after a few rounds and decides to make a few phone calls to friends, mainly to rant about how he’s in the middle of freaking China and stuck with two awkward geniuses and no knowledge of the language except the word “toilet.”

Meanwhile, Luhan has managed to prove his gender to the man at the counter with his old residential ID card. After receiving the room keys, he looks around. “Hey, where’s Sehun?”

Jongin shrugs. “I think he went to the bathroom.”

Sehun walks out from the corridor, shoving his phone back in his pocket, and notices Luhan waving at him. “I got the keys!”

Just then, Sehun hears a giant crash as the center of the ceiling collapses, covering the floor of the lobby with debris and chalky dust. Fire alarms go off. Oops. Why is it that the places he goes always end up being bombed or on fire?

Jongin kicks at a piece of cement and looks up at the newly installed makeshift skylight. “So much for our hotel room.”

Luhan pulls out his phone, somehow still unaffected by the explosion. “I think I’d better call Minseok.”

Judging by the rows of ramshackle shops, Sehun guesses this isn’t the most high-end part of town.

“Minseok said it was around here somewhere... 103 Shuiceng Road.” Luhan looks up at the nearby street sign, then at the number of the store nearby. “It should be just ahead.”

They stop at a nondescript building with bars over the windows, the outside paint flaking away.

“Oh, it’s just like your apartment,” Luhan notes offhandedly.

Jongin doesn’t take offense. “Minus the super awesome high-tech lair?” and Luhan actually smiles at that.

Sehun wishes he had a super awesome high-tech lair. Maybe then Luhan would be impressed.

A typical middle-aged Chinese lady answers the door, hair in a severe bun and sharp eyes. Before Luhan can greet her, she says, “Cash first or no room.”

Sehun still can’t understand the specifics of her exchange with Luhan, but judging by her tone he doesn’t think she’s being very polite. Luhan hands over some bills and she gives them a small key.

“es,” she mutters to herself. No self-respecting people ever rent rooms here anyway. What a shame, she thinks. The black-haired one is cute.

Sehun swears the lady checks out Jongin’s as they walk away but he shakes it off. China is full of strange people.

a/n: LOOK WE WROTE SOMETHING FOR ONCE YAY