Shāng Bù Huàn buried himself in the map. It was a large map of the entirety of Xī Yōu with various markings hand drawn across it. Some writing accompanied it, but most looked to be little more than scribbles.

Làng Wū Yáo had peered at the map earlier, attempting to understand the scribbled markings. He eventually surrendered, leaning back against the wall of the familiar hut, pulling at the red pipa's strings. music made sense to him right now, keeping his mind focused on something other than the two year gap. The less he thought about it before they found the Resonant Memory, the better. He had to survive with at least part of himself intact by the time they found it else he would be lost forever.

"The land is cloaked in deepest blue

The shadow of eagles across the moon.

Leave the pain and scars in the past."

Shāng could handle Làng's songs without being affected, much like Mù Tiān Mìng could, so he could sing without worry. Làng focused on the words as he sang them, keeping his mind distracted. They felt like they were coming from his soul instead of simply just words crossing his lips. No, he couldn't think of that right now. He didn't want to lose wherever this was coming from.

Làng paused, staring at the door. It was that silent voice again, just out of reach. He still couldn't hear the words or the voice, but he knew it was there. He didn't shoo it away this time, but he still couldn't quite reach out for it either.

But something else had caught his attention. Someone else who didn't belong.

Shāng huffed, setting the map down on the floor and chewing on the brush. He looked up, noticing Làng had suddenly stopped. He was looking at the doorway cautiously. "Something wrong?"

"Someone is coming," Làng replied. "I hear voices. Neither Tiān Mìng nor the silent one which cannot reach me"

Shāng rolled up the map, grabbing for his sword. He cracked the door open just slightly, finding the source of the noise. "Imperials. They sure don't seem well prepared for the snow." The soldiers were trudging through the deep snowdrifts awkwardly, not wearing extra layers to shield them from the bitter colds.

Shāng quietly pulled the door shut. "It looks like an errant search party that followed the signs of smoke up here." They had kept the fires burning for some time, staving off the cold temperatures while they waited for Mù to return with information and supplies. "Looks like they're still looking for us. Tiān Mìng must be evading them right now."

Làng stood up, fishing for his shoes. "I don't want them defiling my home."

Shāng peered back at his companion. "Are you up for a fight?"

Làng picked up the familiar red pipa, nodding. "I am feeling well right now."

The pair emerged from the hut, weapons in hand. The imperials had expected to find some wayward villagers all the way up here, but instead they found the targets of their search. "Sword-plundering Nemesis! We found you! Hand over the Index and the Court Virtuoso."

Shāng frowned, wrapping a hand around the hilt of his wooden blade. They didn't seem like ones to listen to reason. Not that he was certain they had much reason traveling this far into the mountains without furs or warm clothing. They were clustered together on the narrow pathway, not really considering how to battle in these conditions.

The first one dove forward with a blade drawn.

Làng intersected, driving the red pipa into his stomach and knocking him further down the mountainside. He dodged the next spear, grabbing the soldier's arm with his hand and driving a knee into his chest. Làng spent so much time fighting then in the arena, this didn't require much thought. He couldn't risk having an attack in the middle of combat.

Shāng pulled his sheathed sword from his belt, knocking it into the side of the hut. Icicles fell from the roof. Shāng caught them with some qi, infusing them and hurling them like cold sharp knives. They zipped past Làng on either side, easily avoiding the musician as he moved, impaling several soldiers straight through the heart.

Làng picked up the stragglers, striking them with the pipa and spearing them on nearby fallen branches. He pulled the red pipa into his arms, firing off several sonic attacks that knocked back the approaching soldiers and driving fallen icicles straight through them. He gripped the neck of the pipa, feeling a pain stirring up in his chest again. He hadn't used this sort of attack recently, and it was stirring up something he had forgotten. He took to a knee, the pain driving straight through him. As a lancer plunged forward, the assailant was quickly met with a wooden stick straight through the forehead.

Shāng put a hand on Làng's shoulder as he released the stick. The soldier tumbled dead down the hillside. "These search parties are troublesome, aren't they?" He knelt down, wrapping Làng's arm around his shoulder to help the musician back to his feet. He used some of his healing qi to help Làng stabilize again. This would only be effective for so long with the effects of the Resonant Memory getting worse. They had to get the sword back from the empire, strike Làng with it, then seal it away forever before Làng's memories were permanently sealed.

With Làng standing on his feet again, Shāng pushed the dead imperials down the hillside. They rolled into the snowbanks, hiding their presence. "As long as no one sees smoke or the bodies, they shouldn't be coming back here. Let's get you back inside for now."

Làng frowned. To think the imperials would come all the way up here, searching for him. Not that they were searching out of concern like Shāng had. They only wanted to return him to the princess for gain or to avoid her wrath. They didn't care what happened to him. They never did. Shāng and Mù were right. He belonged with them and not at the palace. The longer he was outside of those walls, the more he realized they were right. They knew him, they knew what he felt deep inside as if he'd told them at some point likely within the two year gap.

He consciously tried to calm his breathing as he leaned on Shāng for support. The so-called villains cared more about him and his well being than anyone else ever had. It was a strange feeling that they cared, something he didn't quite understand but felt like he needed. He couldn't lose this.

"Looks like you two had a lot of fun while I was gone," Mù called out to them as she spotted some blood along the branches. She trudged up the hillside with a small satchel in her hands filled with supplies.

"Did you find anything?" Shāng said as she approached.

Mù shook her head. "A few useful things about the Hunting Fox's movements, but nothing about the Resonant Memory. People are not willing to talk about a sorcerous blade with all the search parties roaming about."

"The princess had demanded he dispose of the blade," Làng informed them, recalling the conversation between the two. "That was only a few days before Shāng found me. It could be anywhere now."

"Given that this is the sneaky fox, I would bet that he has it on him still," Mù reasoned. "He's controlling and manipulative and would do anything to keep us from getting that sword."

"And with the devastating effects this sword has, he could easily bide his time and wait for Làng's will to be completely crushed," Shāng frowned. "I wouldn't put that past him either."

"I don't want that," Làng frowned.

"Neither do we," Mù shook her head. "Fortunately I know where he's going. Unfortunately, it's the Storm Seal Shrine." She glanced between her companions. This place wouldn't be easy for any of them. It was a place where everything went wrong two months ago.