Chapter Text
“I don’t know what you think I can do,” Baoshan Sanren said coldly, looking down at Song Lan, prostrate on the ground before her.
He rose to a kneeling position and pulled out a few sheets of paper from his sleeve. Head still bowed, he offered them to her. He had prepared for this moment.
Your excellency, I apologize deeply for returning to your mountain. I would not do it if I had any other choice. I bring you the soul of Xiao Xingchen. It had shattered in his grief. I held him for many years, trying to heal it. I’ve done everything I can. His soul feels whole. All the pieces are there. But it does not feel stable. I’m afraid if I open this pouch up, he will shatter again. I don’t know what else to do or where else to go. I just want him to be at peace.
The immortal considered the note for a long time. She looked at this man, this corpse, who seemed to be little more than a harbinger of calamity to her secluded haven. The last time he came, her beloved disciple, her youngest, her last, gouged out his own eyes for this man. Now, he was here again, with only the soul of her dear disciple. Not even a body. Just a battered soul in a bag. Perhaps she could save her little Xingchen. Perhaps, this time, she could finally keep him safe from the horrors of the mortal world.
“I will take him back, Song Zichen. You understand that you will never see him again.”
Song Lan nodded, keeping his eyes averted. He finally understood how Xiao Xingchen was able to leave the mountain, leave him, alone, all those years ago. It was enough to know that Xiao Xingchen was safe, content, somewhere. He lifted the white sword off his back and laid it across the immortal’s waiting hands. The sudden emptiness was an alien sensation; he had grown accustomed to its weight against his body. Over the years, it too had somehow grown accustomed to him, to the fact that he was dead. But it did not matter anymore what Shuanghua could or could not sense. Then, carefully, reverently, he gave her the pouch holding Xiao Xingchen’s soul.
In exchange, she handed him a small vial, said a few words.
Song Lan could barely hear her, much less process what she said. This was it. His work was done. He kowtowed once more to the ground.
That was the second time Song Lan left the celestial mountain alone.
Baixue Temple had burned. Xiao Xingchen was gone. Song Lan had traveled the world twice over. Once to find Xiao Xingchen. Again, to try and salvage him. He was tired. After leaving the mountain, he walked into the nearest remote village and settled in. He did not want to move again.