Getting used to the layout of the island, or what Xingchen regularly visits of the island, has taken as much time as one could expect. When he settled down in Yi City it took him some time to mentally map out the coffin home and then even longer to memorize the path toward the town proper.

This island is a little more difficult, what with random changes that can disrupt the flow of his paths. But Xingchen still tries to keep some routine and walk the same route - or something close enough - every day. Today is no different. Shuanghua rests on his back and the white cloth remains ever-tied around his head. He has no idea that something could throw him for a loop. Someone standing just ahead of him with his back turned.

Until he hears that voice.

Xingchen's feet skid to a stop and he doesn't dare to breathe just in case he heard wrong. He hopes he didn't. He knows he shouldn't hope. Zichen doesn't want to see him; he made that clear when they parted ways. But he can't help the way his heart beats all the way up in his throat and how his hands grip the skirt of his robes. What should he do? What should he say?

But if it really is Zichen...oh, Xingchen desperately wants to see him again, or at least know he's okay after everything.

"...We're...far from home. Zichen."

He speaks softly, still unsure. If his old friend tells him to leave, then he will, but he can at least be helpful before then.