The young man smiled bitterly, without answering Mu Han's words, and instead reached out his translucent hand, gently touching his face.
"Brother Mu Han, I miss Master, miss our home, miss the roasted chicken you made for me, miss when you braided my hair..."
As he spoke, tears uncontrollably streamed down again.
"I wish we could always stay together with Master, living in that little house, eating together, studying together, preparing medicine together..."
Mu Han raised his hand over the cold hand on his face, unable to touch it, yet feeling it.
"I'll take you home, we'll go home, I'll make roast chicken for you, I'll braid your hair, we'll go back, go back..." he cried, speaking brokenly.
The young man shook his head, unable to say a word.
"Xiaohan, Xiaohan..."
"What's wrong with you? Don't scare me, wake up."
"Xiaohan, wake up, I'm begging you, don't scare me, wake up."
The familiar voice came from all directions, sounding somewhat ethereal.
Mu Han froze.
