[ Shaking his head when he hears that, he shoves himself back against a wall and sprawls there, holding onto the dead dog and Jiangzai for stability as his gaze swims back to the morbid sight Xingchen makes; like a ghost returned to haunt the living. Apt, for their surroundings. ]

You're not real. It might take another ten or twenty years, but I'll bring him back right. Xiao Xingchen ... will be well again. [ All the blood loss and a pounding migraine has Xue Yang mumbling. ] We'll make dinner and ... go back ... to normal.