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Chapter Text

Zhang QiLing had no experience, nor any affinity – as it turned out, with ceremonial events. There was a certain skillset that came with every new cycle of his memories – things he knew about and movements more familiar than the sun and the earth under his feet – but knowledge about a baby’s hundred-day celebration obviously was not included in this. In fact, he had no idea why exactly he had been invited and was attending said celebration in the first place, but Zhang QiLing had long since learned that some things didn’t need any explanation when it came to his responsibilities in this life.

Still, he’d turned up half an hour ago in his black vest and black tattered pants, only to be immediately redirected by a nursemaid to a side room, where he was given a dark blue traditional attire to change into. The maid had tattled on about black being an ominous colour for a baby’s celebration and, obviously, while Zhang QiLing found the fact unimportant and missed the camouflage of his black clothing, the dark blue was decent enough that he’d changed without question.

The traditional clothes were surprisingly comfy and just a little too big. It smelled like damp corridors and paper, ink and metal. They belonged to someone once – maybe still – in the same profession as his. That would explain part of why he unconsciously decided to show up.

After this, he was guided back to the central part of the house, where many others had turned up for the celebration. A young couple with a small bundle of moving cloth stood at the centre of this all, constantly being approached by someone new to congratulate them on their newest addition to the family.

Two men stood behind the father, one with a knowledgeable smile and fancy dress, the other rougher and the only one wearing casual clothing inside the room. Similarly, the mother had her own entourage surrounding her. When the bundle of cloth – Zhang QiLing knew it was the baby in question, but since he hadn’t actually seen any flesh of the baby due to the absolute overuse of cloth to keep it warm – moved a little too much, or the mother sighed a little too hard, several women volunteered their services. Yet the woman simply denied them with a shake of her head, and made her way away from the crowd to sit on a lone chair in the corner.

While observing the spectacle in front of him, Zhang QiLing had instinctively searched for his own corner and pillar to lean on. He was about to cross his arms, when an older women approached him. Something inside Zhang QiLing told him this was the oldest woman of the Wu family – the grandmother of the newly born baby.

He looked at her with something akin to interest. The invitation had had her name on the back, so in some way was she his employer of the day. He nodded in greeting when she stopped and smiled at him.

“I’m glad you’ve come,” she said, and Zhang QiLing had no idea why, so he just continued looking at her. “Here,” she handed him a small package of red paper. He could immediately make out something circular inside it. “Normally the parents are supposed to hand it out, but my son is a little scatter-brained today.” Her laugh was oddly serene. It gave Zhang QiLing a comfortable feeling, like he instinctively knew this person was to be trusted.

He weighed the packet in his hand, quietly assessing if he was supposed to open it or not. The woman laughed again. She grabbed another packet from the basket she held, opening it for him to see.

A plain, completely normally shaped, egg laid in her palm. Judging by the weight and consistency of his own packet, it was hardboiled. He raised his eyes just a fraction at its red colouring.

“A hundred-day celebration is a happy event, and red signifies luck and fortune. This is a gift from the parents, to thank you for being here and wishing the baby well, wishing you much the same.” Hearing her explanation, Zhang QiLing nodded in comprehension. His mind reminded him that he had come with mourning dress to the celebration originally, and suddenly understood why this was bad luck.

Most people attending were dressed in red colours as well. He wondered why the maid hadn’t handed him the same tints.

It seemed Zhang QiLing would have to pay back this token of good luck in some way, but he was still unsure how.

“My husband’s clothes suit you very well,” the grandmother spoke up, seemingly having had no problem with the minutes of silence that had passed between them in the meantime. “You should say hi to the baby before leaving. Any blessing of someone of the Zhang family would be an honour.” She smiled at him again, something knowing and truly kind in her eyes, before bowing. When Zhang QiLing bowed back in courtesy, she walked away and left him alone to his pillar.

The celebration seemed to take a long time. People came and went, but not many tried to approach him. There were some looks of people he knew he should, but could not, recognize, yet none of them tried to speak a word to him. His corner and pillar were particularly quiet, just the way he liked it, and he found it enjoyable being left alone to watch and judge the people around him.

The mother had stood up again with her bundle of cloth, greeting more guests. Many of whom held out their own packages with gifts to the mother, which she waved her hand to be taken by someone of the family. Red packages, gold jewellery, even scrolls were presented to her, which she all kindly thanked the guests for.

It was probably another custom Zhang QiLing did not know, or had forgotten about.

As evening fell and more people left the celebration, the mother once again made her way into the corner. She sat down, leaned back and looked up at the ceiling. She blinked a couple of times, looking happy yet tired. The bundle in her arms moved, making soft noises and attracting the woman’s attention. Some of the cloth fell away revealing first a tiny first, then a big forehead and two abnormally huge eyes.

The baby blinked at its mother, and the mother looked as stricken as Zhang QiLing felt. While he had no affinity for babies or children at all, there was something in the appearance of the tiny human that felt nice. Its brown eyes were sparkling with interest and innocence, something absolutely simple yet beautiful.

He fumbled about the traditional clothes for the items he’d hidden within, untying something from the sword on his back. The clothes had been loose enough, with enough layers, to even hide something as big as that. While he thought it to be coincidence, Zhang QiLing wondered if it had been planned after all.

The ornament and its string fell into his palm – cold and comforting.

Then he made his way towards the woman in her chair, and the tiny human shifting about in her arms. Full of life and curiosity, moving to look at its mother and around the room. The mother giggled a little and held her hand out, which the baby grabbed and studied intensely.

There were so many expressions and liveliness in this small human, Zhang QiLing almost felt intrigued.

The mother noticed him at the same time he stopped in front of her. She showed teeth, smile reaching her eyes in the way only a mother could do when looking at her child. (Why did Zhang QiLing’s mind describe it like that? Had his own mother looked at him the same way, once? He did not know.)

“His name is Wu Xie,” she spoke, soft yet clear. The baby looked at his mother when she spoke these words, as if recognizing the sounds already.

Wu Xie. The wish behind the name was clear. It meant Zhang QiLing and this baby would have nothing to do with each other in the future. Zhang QiLing understood the sentiment and wished for the same as well. For that innocent and curious look in his eyes to remain ever unchanged.

Although unsure in his actions, Zhang QiLing held out his hand with the jade ornament. It was small, and the string around it was of coarse material. It did not come in fancy packaging like the other gifts, it did not have much thought like the fancy scrolls, but he knew it was of significant worth. The jade was carved in the form of a Qilin – Zhang QiLing had grabbed it once (though he did not remember which tomb exactly) because it had reminded him of his tattoo – and its craftmanship was old but masterful.

The mother held up Wu Xie, who was still grabbing at the big thumb in front of him and attempting to bring it closer to his mouth. It downed on Zhang QiLing that she wanted him to give it to the baby.

He slowly picked up the string and brought it right above him. His eyes caught sight of the ornament immediately, abandoning his fruitless attempt of sucking on his mother’s thumb to grab at the jade Qilin.

Inexplicably, Zhang QiLing felt the need to speak. “This is for you, may it bring you as much protection as mine does,” he said, imagining the feeling of a phantom movement of his tattoo, “Wu Xie.”

He spoke the baby’s name for the first, and assumedly the last, time. The boy’s eyes flickered to the sound, and their gazes met.

Wu Xie finally grabbed the Jade ornament with both his hands . Then, he opened his mouth and a loud cry, of many to come, sounded throughout the room.

Chapter Text

“I apologise for making you wait!” the door flew open, and a young man entered, slightly out of breath. Right behind him, a youthful woman followed him inside. Her breath, as well, was slightly quickened, as if they had run to arrive at the meeting on time.

Zhang QiLing had been waiting for a while, having arrived at the house a couple of hours before the arranged meeting hour. He didn’t make it a habit to come early to meetings like these, but he’d been in the neighbourhood and an especially kind old women had let him inside as soon as she recognized him.

They had met before, Zhang QiLing was well aware, but he had never asked for her name. She’d let him inside the compound with the letters ‘Wushanju’ painted on the entrance, brought him tea, and then left him to his own devices. Now, four hours later, he was the only one who hadn’t turned agitated on the wait for their apparent hosts to finally honour them with their presence.

“Wu SanXing’s nephew wouldn’t go to sleep,” the woman – Chen WenJin, Zhang QiLing finally recalled – sighed with a fond smile on her face. “You know how kids are,” she waved her hands and the other present in the meeting nodded. Only he did not, since he really had no idea how kids were. They didn’t tend to pop up much in his day-to-day life.

Quickly the two hosts sat down at the table they were all surrounding, making papers and plans appear out of seemingly nowhere. Making good of the time they already lost, they jumped straight into the discussion at hand.

Zhang QiLing was quiet as he listened to them talk, only nodded once or twice when people seemed to gauge for his reaction. The plan wasn’t perfect, and clearly had some potential problems – which were mostly a matter of inexperience, he found – but he wasn’t here to give his opinions. In fact, he was only supposed to accompany them to the tomb itself, not the preparations.

He guessed this group of mostly inexperienced people just wanted to get to know each other first, before they went to raid a deadly tomb. It seemed slightly unconventional, with high possibility that they would not all make it, but Zhang QiLing did not voice this out loud. He knew this truth sometimes brought others panic, and that was even worse than unnecessary meetings like these.

While Zhang QiLing had allowed himself to get a little distracted and space out – a bad but oh-so gratifying habit – something akin to a raucous seemed to have started outside the room. He blinked, following the origin of the noise to be nearing them until it was eventually right outside the door. Then a couple of knocks on the wood resonated throughout the room.

“I’m sorry,” Wu SanXing scratched his head, “That’s my nephew, I’ll just—” he stood up, already making his way through the room. As soon as he turned the doorknob, the yelling stopped, and a small human appeared in the opening. The boy’s eyes were red rimmed, tears and snot streaming over his face and his mouth was still opened in the middle of a yell.

“Wu Xie,” his third uncle shushed him, “What did uncle tell you? Didn’t you promise to be good today and play in your room?”

The many attendants of the meeting looked at the young Wu heir with interested and kind smiles. There were already mumbles going around that it was alright; it was normal for a kid to want attention. One even suggested they take a break.

Wu SanXing nodded thankfully towards that last person and turned around to shove his nephew out of the door. Said nephew didn’t move, his red blinking eyes taking in every person in the room with curiosity.

Zhang QiLing knew those eyes.

He had not expected to see that same gaze in them again. He nodded at the boy, a little amused when the boy suddenly took a step back in surprise, turned around, and ran away.

After the break - in which Wu San Xing somehow had succeeded in calming down his nephew and losing his jacket at the same time – the meeting continued uninterrupted. An hour later the preparations were completed, and some of the guests had already said their goodbyes before Zhang QiLing had even moved away from his dark corner.

Chen WenJin shot him a smile as he left the room as well. Normally, Zhang QiLing could not be outside and away from all these people quickly enough, yet something inside of him made him linger. He looked around the hallway, catching glimpses inside of the rooms filled with antiques. He could not find the old woman anymore.

The Wu family seemed to be extremely adept in getting Zhang QiLing involved in unusual experiences.

Although he did not find granny Wu on the compound, he did take notice of a small figure sitting in the middle of the yard. The boy was covered with a jacket too big for him, protecting him from the rain, while he used a small plastic spade to dig in the mud.

Zhang QiLing was practically unnoticeable when moving around, quiet as a ghost, yet this boy turned around as if he had sensed his presence. Wu Xie blinked his big, brown eyes at him. The boy’s gaze was as familiar as it was unique. Zhang QiLing walked closer, into the rain, and found himself with an odd case of curiosity reflected in himself.

The boy continued his slow digging. The ground was wet and muddy, the hole falling closed without any proper structure. It was clear he had not received much, if any, education on how to properly dig. He would’ve found it unusual for a descendant of tomb robbers, were it not that Zhang QiLing recalled his name and then thought it made sense.

Eventually, after many fruitless attempts and while quietly ignoring Zhang QiLing’s gaze, the boy let out a triumphant yell. “I got it!” he cheerfully said, grabbing with his dirty hands into the soil and picking up a small, tin box out of it. The plastic spade laid forgotten at his side.

He turned around and presented it to Zhang Qiling. “See!” he said, “I found treasure in the mud, just like grandpa!”

Zhang QiLing didn’t move, staring at the tin box. Wu Xie caught his gaze and protectively hugged it close to his chest. It looked a little ridiculous, the boy was so soaked and covered in mud just like the box, they seemed to be out of one and the same material. “It’s my treasure! Not yours! I found it first.”

Wu Xie had a point, and his eyes had sparkles in them, so Zhang QLling could only hum and nod. First come, first serve. He was interested though, in what the little box contained. He turned his head a little, concentrating on the rattling sound it made while Wu Xie clumsily held it while standing up.

“It’s a very good treasure, it protects me, you see!” The boy grinned, moving left and right, up and down, in excitement as he spoke. “As long as I have my treasure, I will be protected from all the scary things!”

That sounded like pretty good treasure in Zhang QiLing’s opinion. Something very precious and invaluable. Priceless. He gained a little more interest.

“Ah! But you’re going to get more treasure, right? And uncle told me I can’t come with because it’s too dangerous,” the little boy pouted, “If it’s dangerous, you need something to protect you from the scary things as well!”

His little hands started fumbling with the box, failing to open it and pouting even harder. Then, he held it up and out to Zhang QiLing. “You take it! The box as well! It will protect you, so you come back with more treasure!” He grinned as he said that last part, a complete replica of his uncle’s smile, were it not with the several teeth missing.

Seeing as this priceless treasure was presented to him, Zhang QiLing could only accept it with both his hands. The metal box was cold and grimy, seemingly more than just dirt-covered it, and it weighed lighter than expected in his hands.

“Get lots of treasure, okay, just like me!” the boy giggled. “When you’re back from that dangerous place, bring it back okay? It’s my treasure to protect me as well, just as it will protect you!”

Wu Xie’s name was called throughout the compound, and with a failed wink - clearly taught by his uncle as well, he ran towards the door to enter the building again. His feet made loud, wet noises as he ran inside, and several curses followed soon. The boy was still laughing and yelling, telling his uncle all about the treasure he had just dug up, until the voices eventually died out.

The intensity of the rain had increased, and Zhang QiLing felt the water pierce his clothes and turn his body colder by the minute. Carefully, with the right priorities first, he opened the little metal box to gaze at its treasure within.

A familiar Jade Qilin laid inside of it.

(Zhang QiLing never brought the priceless treasure back to Wu Xie. He left it behind in a wooden, desolate building he would not visit for a long time. Its existence completely forgotten; its purpose ultimately failed.)

Chapter Text

Zhang QiLing had long adjusted to the many mysteries and secrets the world had for him. Although he had gotten used to living day by day, knowing less and even expecting lesser, it was never a drag. It was simply how his life was. Just like the fact that he was a skilled martial artist, just like humanity needed air to breathe, he lived on the fine line between unknown and being known.

The person in front of him looked like he knew Zhang QiLing better than he did himself. The recognition in his eyes had been undeniable, even though it had disappeared immediately after in a blink. However, Zhang QiLing had no real interest in their stories about him. He had heard them before, and none had been familiar. He wanted to know his own story.

His own story started when he bound up the sword on his back, ignoring the man’s words and dismissing himself with a nod.

Just like the world was full of things unknown, this sword had called to him like something he did know. The weight, the shape, the way it moved and the way he moved with it—all of it was so wonderfully (and alarmingly) familiar. It was like a piece of those paper puzzles people enjoyed solving, extremely gratifying as it fit perfectly into place.

He pulled up the hoodie’s cap over his head, hiding himself from the wet and cold night, when he heard a car engine turn off. Feet hit the placement as the door opened and closed. The actions sounded hurried, and they were abruptly interrupted.

“…What use is there for you to show up now!” The man from earlier had been talking. It was not meant for Zhang QiLing, so he had not paid attention. He pulled the hoodie closed and jumped over the threshold, walking away from the antique store.

There was a sharp intake of breath which he ignored, instead focusing on his own feet and pace. The sooner he got away, the better.

“Shit, are you serious?” More unimportant words followed. Zhang QiLing saw his own breath turn into white clouds and did not wonder why that person spoke so fiercely during such a cold night. “You had good stuff and you didn’t even wait for me to take a look at it? Why did you have to sell it so fast?”

He tried tuning out the conversation. He truly did not care for it. Even if the new arrival was clearly upset by the quick sell that had just happened. That he just had attained. The sword was meant for him anyway; its blade had sung for its owner, and they had recognized each other.

The new arrival’s yelling had accumulated its own white cloud in the night air, and Zhang QiLing’s travel would make the impact imminent. He felt maybe a little childish, a little guilty, at the way he held his breath when crossing it – as if he did not want to make the two clouds collide.

Except, the upset man stopped in his tirade for his head to turn towards Zhang QiLing, sizing him up without any shame whatsoever. He could feel the eyes burning into the cloth of his hoodie. Something in Zhang QiLing compelled him to do the same – his own eyes turning slightly to the side, hidden by his cap – and he finally saw the young man with dark hair and red cheeks from the cold.

His eyes were brown; filled with seemingly insatiable interest.

Zhang Qiling did not trip, nor did he recognize that look in the young man’s eyes.

His own story might be shrouded in mystery for the rest of his life, but that gaze… although he did not recognize it.

It called to him like something he did know. And that thing he knew, was that he had an indescribable feeling to protect it.

The only thing he could do was increase in his steps when he felt the young boy’s gaze linger on him. Even when his finger rudely pointed at his back, all he did was make the distance between them bigger.

He had long gotten used to the mystery and riddles surrounding his own story. He knew that nothing good could come from chasing it. He was used to being alone, had no need for their compulsive thoughts being forced upon him.

Yet, as his story had finally started moving, he could not help but think, recalling that wonderful look on the young man’s face. Those inquisitive eyes.

How would it feel for his story – how would he feel for his life – to be investigated – taken apart.

By those eyes?

By him?

Chapter Text

It was like he was left in the dark, his heart completely empty. His mind was like a void with a black hole in the middle; anything Zhang QiLlng tried to recall ebbed away as soon as it came up, eaten by the darkness, leaving only a splitting headache in its stead.

He was not so weak that he would stop trying, that the pain would hinder his search, but still, it hurt.

It hurt in his head, it hurt in his heart – at least it didn’t hurt in his body anymore. His body, it seemed, was used to the pain. This discovery told him certain facts about himself; that he was physically strong, used to cuts and bruises and combat – that he was mentally weak; his mind not to be trusted.

His reaction to the door slamming close and a body shuffling in the driver’s chair, told him he was used to being on guard. It felt weird, with how his mind seemed lost in the void, his muscles tensed with the smallest of sounds.

PangZi – the man who’d been there when he woke up, who’d been there through all the hospital procedures, who was still there even now – shot him a smile as he ignited the car. Zhang QiLing could hear and feel the engine brimming underneath him, the bumps in the road as they drove off the parking on towards the highway.

“It’s just a short drive, not long anymore until we’ll be together again,” the fat man spoke, perhaps more to himself than to Zhang QiLing. “I’m sure you’re excited to see him again, right Xiaoge?”

Xiaoge. The name Pangzi addressed him with. Somehow, it felt more familiar than the name that had been on his ticket when they’d boarded the plane.

In Zhang QiLing’s life, there were certain things that had been decided for him. Like his name, like his blood, like the skills he mastered as a child – they were all facts he knew and that made him him. They were like stars in the void, stubborn in the way they did not move. The black hole was powerless against them.

Pangzi had told him that that was how Zhang QiLing existed – that he had always been amnesiac. The Zhang QiLing he had met the first time had known certain things and forgotten more. Just like now.

“Memory or no memory, you’ve not changed at all in that regard,” he had laughed at the blank look on his face in reaction. It seemed the world objected him to some things as well, like the periodic memory loss. It was a star that made Zhang QiLing feel cold, but it was also unmoving. It did not give him headaches and pain when he thought about it.

There was another type of stars. Things that were decided for him, that the world objected him to, and the few things he was able to retain. Things he decided, wanted, needed, to be too important to lose. His nickname – Xiaoge – was one of these stars. He knew there to be others, even more important things out there in the void of his head. They shined directly in his eyes – blinding him – but he was unable to follow their directions home, filled him with their warmth.

Currently, they hurt, not in the way the black hole in his memories did, but they hurt deep his body in a way that was unfamiliar. That was why, whenever Pangzi mentioned that person far away, Xiaoge would not react. Although he did not shy away from pain, he was not intent on provoking it either.

“You know, it’s kind of like those cartoons where there’s a monkey hitting two cymbals in your head. At least, that’s how I’m imagining it, which is quite funny. Obviously, there’s nothing fun about losing your memories – I hate seeing you and Tianzhen—” pain “—hurt. Oh, do you remember watching cartoons? If you don’t, that’s kind of nice. You could rewatch all your favourite movies and experience them for the first time all over again… Well, that is if you recall which ones are your favourite…”

Xiaoge had discovered that Pangzi was a big talker. Sometimes about important things, about the adventures they had gone through and how Xiaoge had always saved him and this Tianzhen—pain. Most of the times the words that left his mouth had no real use – they were just there, filling the silence.

He expected to hate it. Expected to hate such a talkative and loud person, someone constantly laughing and cracking jokes but—it was not so bad. Xiaoge had realized Pangzi was a good person pretty early on. Pangzi really cared about Xiaoge, about the memories he lost and how he felt about that.

Somehow, there was a star in his mind, that told him that was rare for Xiaoge.

So, even though Pangzi could annoy the shit out of Xiaoge at times, he decided to like him.

“Maybe once we’re at WuShanJu—” he grasped but failed to catch the light “—we can just have a movie marathon. I really feel like watching Star Wars. Maybe we can get some kind of lightsabre and—Oh, Xiaoge, do you think you were a jedi in your past life? Maybe all the mysteries we’re chasing will just lead us to the source of the force…”

Admittingly, sometimes it was better to tune Pangzi out. The man didn’t seem to mind it much, either so Xiaoge assumed that he was used to it.

The car ride passed quickly, just like Pangzi had promised. Soon, they drove up to an unfamiliar gravel road and stopped. Pangzi seemed excited as he walked up to the compound. Xiaoge couldn’t help but feel comprehensive. The void was uncomfortable, now more than ever.

He forced himself to look around and search, for any star that would finally be plotted out in the map of his brain. It tired him out, and he fell even more silent and unresponsive to save his energy.

There was a moment of unexpected clarity – seeing the antiques, touching them. He could call out which one was real, and which one was fake. He almost grew disappointed, annoyance filling his voice when he voiced the truth. The shop keeper grew panicked, pushing him away from the fake antiques and further inside the compound.

The star in his eyes was replaced by brightness again when they entered deeper.

The man in the room did not seem to be expecting them. Although Pangzi had been grand in his entrance – laughter, yelling, stomping on the ground, with Xiaoge like a shadow behind him – he visibly startled when he saw them.

Xiaoge did not process his cursing or his greeting while he took in the room. Everything was so bright it hurt his eyes. It was harming him rather in a way that uncomfortable. Perhaps, it was more uncomfortable because it frustrated him. The light was right in front of him, yet he could not—!

He idly felt his own body being moved, sounds coming from around him, and him sitting down. He knew he could trust Pangzi with his body while he was stuck in his mind – there was no reason to deny their instructions.

And then, his face was cupped by two soft and warm palms. They were slightly damp, probably from sweating, which would also explain the smell and the way the hair of the person in front of him was slightly tussled.

“Xiaoge,” the nickname had never sounded more his, “Do you remember me?”

Big, brown eyes, filled with light, blinked at him.

There was a treasure map inside his brain – the light finally plotting out a way to the closest star. It was a big star, maybe bigger than any others he’d discovered up until now, and it was surrounded by countless other smaller lights.

Curious, one star said. Innocent, the other one whispered. Tianzhen, Pangzi’s new star explained. Protect, many at the same time ordered him. Warm.

He knew these eyes. Knew the name behind these eyes. Suddenly, the earlier pain in his body, in his heart, cleared up when the star finally made itself known, and he opened his mouth to voice its companion; “Wu Xie.”

There was trust to be found in those eyes; trust in Xiaoge, trust in him to remember him. Yet there had been a slight sliver of hesitance, of uncertainty, before Wu Xie’s eyes grew narrower and his mouth turned up in a big grin. Although this person had expected for Xiaoge to remember him, he had not dare to hope, and—

Idly he was pleased by how easily he could read this man – his expression, the emotions drifting through his eyes, moving the skin around his eyebrows, until it reached the crunch of his nose and the corners of his lips. This star in front of him was so clear now.

Zhang Qiling had lost his memories, had forgotten all about his past and his plans for the future. He had no story anymore of his own – eaten by the void inside his mind. It had hurt to retrieve what he had now – would continue to hurt in the future.

When those brown eyes asked him what he wanted to do – Xiaoge knew exactly what he wanted.

“I want to visit places with my memories.”

The gaze on Wu Xie’s face became soft, assuring Xiaoge in a way he knew only he could. They would look for his memories together, find his story – and create their own in the process.