[ It's the flash of Shuanghua that makes him stop in his tracks (I have to get that sword away from him), the memory of when it was last used in Xingchen's hands enough to shut down Xue Yang's advance completely. It's been so long since he saw Xingchen alive and not dead and easy to touch (to brush leaves off, to correct the hair of, to touch the hand of as he kept him near perfectly preserved in a coffin for years) that he's startled into stillness. ]

I didn't do anything. I woke up here too, a witch I met said there are undead lords in this place. I think this is one of their houses.

[ Shuanghua has alarm bells ringing loudly in his ears, the shrieking panic in Xingchen that he isn't dead like a knife in Xue Yang's other lung; he spent so long talking to the shards of that shattered soul and it doesn't know him at all.

His voice softens, trying to find a level tone. ]

I'm not going to hurt you.