Mo Cheng woke to a young lady's worried voice. He kept his eyes shut despite having regained consciousness; he could feel the back of his head resting on something soft and warm.

Was his head resting on her lap, maybe?

​​

As he considered his current circumstances, he wondered if this lady had taken care of him while his consciousness drifted away again.

"Is there anything that can be done to treat his condition?" the young lady asked.

Mo Cheng thought her voice sounded very familiar, now he could hear her more clearly.

"If only I knew what his particular ailment was," his younger brother, Mo Jing, sighed as he answered. "It would be much easier to find a way to treat him if I did. Alas, I am as clueless as you are."

The way they were discussing him made it sound like he was going to die at any given moment, and if he were being honest with himself, then perhaps he was… Mo Cheng was not sure how long he had left to live his life anymore.

"You say his mind drifts away every so often, almost as if his soul separates from his body," he heard the young lady say softly. "But physically he is in perfect shape and shows no sign of injury. This sounds, to me at least, like it is his spirit being harmed, and that is definitely not something that a healer can simply cure like a common stomach ache."

"Sister Meirong, what should I do to save my brother?" Mo Jing asked, his voice trembling. "He spoke as if you would know." His final word ended in a sound similar to a sob.

"I am not certain how I could be of any help," Li Meirong confessed. "I do not possess much knowledge on how to treat spiritual injuries."

As soon as Mo Cheng heard Li Meirong's name, his eyes snapped wide open.

The sun was setting to the west, radiating gentle golden light across the greenery and casting a silhouette about Mo Jing's trembling shoulders. The first sight to greet Mo Cheng's eyes was that of his young brother's tear-stained face. He was a sobbing mess.

As for the lap upon which his head was resting, who else would it belong to but his faithful brother? There was a hint of bitter resentment to that realisation, but Mo Cheng pushed it aside for the moment.

Mo Jing must have placed Mo Cheng on the bench while he was unconscious, to let him rest off the cool, damp ground, and had then further accommodated Mo Cheng by sitting beside him and letting his head rest upon his lap.

Meanwhile, Li Meirong stood a few feet from them, staring at Mo Cheng with large, clear eyes that perfectly conveyed the pity she felt towards him.

Mo Cheng gritted his teeth as he spied the pity directed at him by Li Meirong. Shame welled up inside him; he hated being pitied. The look on her face made him feel like he was being stabbed all over by invisible needles.

In order to preserve whatever shreds remained of his dignity, Mo Cheng slowly pushed himself up off his brother's lap and arranged himself into a proper sitting posture.

"Sister Meirong," he greeted, his voice sounding rough and pained. "You really came to see me." He felt like he had not spoken in weeks, or had gargled pebbles.

"Yes, I'm here, as you asked," she replied. Her delicate hands fiddled with a storage pouch, and she fetched a flask of water from within it. She passed it to Mo Jing, who was closer. "Let him drink, he sounds parched."

"You are kind," Mo Jing responded with a nod of thanks. He held the flask as if to assist Mo Cheng to drink, but the latter snatched it from him.

"Brother, I am aware you mean well, but I would be more appreciative if you allowed me to save some face," he snapped. "I can drink well enough on my own. I am not yet handicapped." He chugged down the water without assistance.

"Apologies, Brother," Mo Jing said, looking slightly hurt. "I meant no disrespect." He quickly stood and gave a low bow, avoiding eye contact with Mo Cheng and Li Meirong both. "I will let you speak alone. Please call me when you need me."

"There is no need for you to be called upon. Just go," Mo Cheng said coldly, waving a hand to shoo Mo Jing away.

Li Meirong watched Mo Jing's hurriedly retreating back, concealing her own emotions as she turned back to face Mo Cheng.

Watching Mo Cheng behaving so cruelly and disrespectfully towards his younger brother, who was willing to do just about anything for him, made Li Meirong's gaze grow cold and hard as distaste welled within her. She could not stand to see such blatant disrespect, and she could not bring herself to offer even a vaguely amiable smile to Mo Cheng. Her small lips pressed into a thin line in disapproval.

"Brother Cheng," she began, hands on her hips, "When we face hardship, it is easy for us to lash out at those around us, but don't you think your anger is misplaced?" she scolded. "Your little brother loves you dearly and cares for you more than he does anything else in this world."

Mo Cheng slouched on the bench, tilting his head back to stare up at the sky. He gave a contemptuous little laugh.

"Of course you would say such a thing. Of course you would think like this…"

His view of the sky was obscured suddenly by Li Meirong's small, oval face. She had moved forward, and now looked down at him, casting a shadow over him.

"I believe you to be clear-minded enough to answer me in a straightforward fashion," she said harshly. "Mo Jing told me you needed to speak with me, so here I am. Now, talk."

As she spoke, her face - unadorned by blush or rouge - looked calm and pure. She appeared as though she had outgrown any worldly values, and her expression did not match her youthful appearance. Nor did it display the frustration in her voice.

Mo Cheng looked at Li Meirong in bewilderment. After a long moment of silence, he finally replied with a simple "Alright." He thought that, for a girl who had supposedly come from the same world as him, Li Meirong was a very peculiar person.

It had been very difficult for him to understand the type of person she was. Li Meirong did not relish the lifestyle given to her in this world, and did not seek out the lavish luxuries available to them. That wasn't to say that her mind was instead focused on advancing in cultivation to attain spiritual power. No, it was as if nothing truly interested her, and she didn't care about anything in particular. She seemed to enjoy living aimlessly and without any goals larger than 'live'.

That was the case, at least, until that Zhu Qingyue fellow came along…

With that final thought in mind, Mo Cheng glared at Li Meirong with renewed ire. His voice was accusatory as he spoke.

"I know you are not from this world."