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The shrine is empty when Xie Lian wakes up.
For one frightening moment, all of his quiet fears are confirmed; he finally scared Hua Cheng away. He supposes that it was only a matter of time. Try as you might, no spring is eternal and no warmth is unending.
But then he feels for the necklace Hua Cheng had left for him. The delicate chain is cool beneath his fingers and he lets it be his only reprieve against the late morning sun.
There must be an urgent matter that Hua Cheng had to attend to. He is the lord of the ghostly realm and he can’t be expected to spend all of his free time with Xie Lian. Yes, yes, there are probably some overzealous lot of ghosts causing trouble or some tyrant king who had grown too big-headed or some temples that needed to be burned down or, or, or…
So Xie Lian busies himself with chores. Scrubbing his boots clean, sweeping the porch, preparing wood for the oven. He goes down to say hello to the Puqi villagers, sees if there is anything that he can take off their hands to resell later. He does all of this until the moon hangs silver in the sky.
Hua Cheng has not come back yet. Should he go look for him? No, how silly. Is he to travel down to the ghostly realm himself and demand to see their lord? Should he do that? Should he? Should he?
He looks at the portrait Hua Cheng made for him. Such a thing is far too pretty to be in his ruinous shrine. But then he notices something odd in the uppermost corner of the canvas.
A curious little worm the color of maple leaves. As he nears it, its top half begins to flail about. Xie Lian extends a finger and the worm immediately curls around it. It doesn’t hurt, but its grip is surprisingly strong.
He turns to take it outside, but the worm tightens around his finger. He watches for a moment, unsure of what to make of all of this, when a single, silver spark suddenly materializes and floats upon his palm. It disappears a second later at the same time the worm loosens its hold, as though sapped of all energy.
What in the world? What was that? Why hasn’t Hua Cheng returned yet? Where did that spark come from? He harshly rubs his eyes, very tired and annoyed and sad.
Xie Lian decides to put the small worm into a jar. “How about this?” he whispers to it, feeling half-crazed. “You can keep me company until my friend comes back home.”
When Xie Lian goes to the worm a few hours later, he peers down at it. Just then, a pair of silver sparks twirl and flit right into his face. They are gone a moment later.
Again, the worm hardly moves. Heh, it behaves as though it summoned those sparks itself and must now regain its energy–
Xie Lian nearly yelps. He scoops up the jar and feeling like an absolute fool, he whispers, “...San Lang? Is that you?”
The worm very slowly thunks twice against the jar. An affirmation? Or has the scrap god truly lost his mind?
Xie Lian carefully places the worm in his palm. He thinks for a moment and says, “If you can truly understand me, then… travel in three small circles on my hand.”
Sure enough, the little worm does just that.
Xie Lian blinks. He says, “Now travel in three small circles in the opposite direction.”
And the worm does it again!
“San Lang?” he asks again, his voice hitching. The worm thunks twice against his palm once more. And a final, silver butterfly ghosts onto his cheek before disappearing.
He feels panic lodge itself tightly in his lungs. But his voice is calm as he says, “Don’t worry. We’ll figure this out, you and me. We always do.”
All the while, San Lang rests weakly in his palms.