Làng Wū Yáo stirred. His ear was ringing but there wasn't a buzzing or a pain anymore. He could feel his feet again and his legs no longer felt like overcooked noodles. He felt the hard forest ground beneath him as well as the soft cloak thrown over him. A fire crackled nearby. Crickets chirped and a stream babbled somewhere off in the distance. He could feel Líng Yá wrapped in his arms.

He attempted to sit up, finding his strength had returned to him thanks to some healing qi. Perhaps it was the lack of buzzing that helped. Probably both. He placed Líng Yá in his lap, finding his treasured pipa undamaged from the ordeal.

"Ah good, you're up. How is your ear?"

Làng had heard Shāng Bù Huàn speak but the words felt somewhat muddied. The other man was sitting at the nearby fire, preparing some sort of dinner. Mù Tiān Mìng was sitting opposite Làng at the fire, gently plucking at the guqin's strings. He could feel the music, but hearing it was a bit more difficult.

"He can hear you! Though the words are cloudy," Líng Yá replied for Làng.

Shāng pursed his lips together. "It took awhile before we were able to treat the noise. Xiào Kuáng Juàn pursued us well into the forest before we finally lost him. I'm just glad you can hear again." He wasn't sure if Làng could lose his hearing.

"Man, that fox bastard sure messed things up!" Líng Yá commented. "Then again, when doesn't he? He's always been that way, that conniving manipulative ass!"

"That fight would've gone very differently had he not shown up," Shāng frowned, grabbing a wooden bowl from the pile. Leaning over, he spooned some soup out of the pot hanging over the fire. "The Sorrowful Soul would be sealed, your hearing would be back, and we likely would be one less insect assassin."

Làng placed a hand over his ear. It wasn't bleeding anymore at least, even if everything felt fuzzy on that side. The other one was still fine but it was throwing everything off. He blasted some qi into it before wrinkling his nose and shaking his head.

"I'd imagine that with your supernatural abilities, that ear will heal itself pretty fast," Shāng reasoned. Not that he really understood how Làng's abilities actually worked. He'd never met someone equivalent of a supernatural sword before. It was mostly a guess at this point. A hopeful guess.

Làng couldn't deny it was a good assumption. He'd never lost his hearing before, but he had lost his voice once and that did come back. It was changed, cursed even, but it did come back.

"That bug probably didn't help!" Líng Yá fussed. "To think that cicada weirdo managed to get a magic bug that deep in his ear! Gross! No wonder that noise was so loud!"

Làng frowned slightly. So that was the origin of the painful noise. He played the whole encounter back in his mind. Not once could he figure out when the bug managed to crawl into his ear without noticing. Perhaps on him was one thing with how long Yīn had likely been in that crowd. But to get into his ear? He nearly shuddered at the thought.

Summer cicadas would be singing soon with the warmer weather now approaching. Perhaps he misjudged what the noise was he'd heard. He was accustomed to fighting imperial lackeys while singing at the same time or training with the bell sword with his mother when he was younger. Fighting a magical insect assassin was different, but that 'different' likely would be more common now that he was traveling with Shāng and Mù. Their task, now his too, to collect the sorcerous swords would likely attract this sort more and more. It was a very different path, one he never would've thought he would take only a few months ago. A lot had happened lately.

"This guy is now pissed that he got bested by a damn cicada!" Líng Yá fussed.

Làng reached for the pipa's strings but he stopped, resting his hand on the side of the instrument. Líng Yá wasn't wrong. He was upset that something so simple took him down. His hearing was so honed, his battle skills sharpened as a living sorcerous blade. The idea of being taken down by a bug didn't sit well with him. Even if it was a magical assassin bug.

"We all have our troubles, you know," Shāng said. "Your hearing is sensitive and that assassin took advantage of it. For me? I don't always see through illusions. I almost ate a plate of scorpions!"

Làng's expression softened. That had been their first meal together after the battle with the Hunting Fox and Làng had declared he would be his own person, no longer being used by others as their singing blade. The musician had realized the scorpions were disguised and that Xiē Yīngluò was there, but the other two had not. Shāng would have eaten a plate of scorpions had Làng not stopped him.

"We'll just have to rely on each other with this one. I imagine this Yīn Xiàtiān will cause us a bit of trouble when she shows back up." Shāng handed a bowl to Làng. "Here. It's not the best but it is soup."

Làng stared at the bowl in his hands. It certainly didn't look the best but it smelled good. His stomach reminded him it had been awhile since his last meal. He could appreciate the effort. Shāng was definitely trying to take care of him. It was a strange thought. People helping him out. He still wasn't used to it.

Líng Yá shifted to Làng's back. "That crazy cicada bitch will be back, you know! She wants this guy's voice to be hers!"

Làng wrinkled his nose, partially from the soup, partially from the obsessive words Yīn had said to him. "I am no one's caged songbird. Not anymore."

"Of course not, man!" Líng Yá confirmed. "You didn't go through all that garbage only to end up back in that garbage again! I bet that cicada weirdo is as a bad as that sadistic princess or even-"

Làng cut the pipa off by reaching over his shoulder and flicking him in the face. The musician turned back to his lumpy soup. For a traveler, Shāng certainly didn't know how to cook but eating at a restaurant was probably not an option with the Hunting Fox nipping at their heels.

Líng Yá fussed. "Fine, fine!"

The pipa wasn't wrong about the garbage he'd been through. Líng Yá was only reflecting Làng's inner thoughts loudly, but that didn't mean the musician wanted to talk about how he felt. He glanced at his companions. They weren't asking questions about what Líng Yá had said.

The silence that followed felt awkward. Shāng was trying hard to be Làng's friend and the musician just kept clamming up about everything. Làng didn't talk about himself. That was how it was supposed to be. Or so he'd been told over and over again. He was a blade, nothing more. He'd had his opinions, but he often kept them to himself as they could easily cause him trouble. Ever since he decided to take his own path, things felt different and weird, opposite of everything he was used to. He still wasn't sure how to handle all this.

He stared at the soup bowl filled with lumpy soup that Shāng had made for all of them, for him too. He was part of their group, with friends and not someone who wanted to make him their blade. He could feel that from them very clearly even if the words were unspoken. They weren't like the Hunting Fox or the princess or the tavern owner.

"My whole life, I've been a caged songbird," Làng suddenly confessed, almost surprised that the words spilled out of his own mouth instead of Líng Yá's. Perhaps it was the soup that was making him actually talkative now.

Shāng nearly dropped the soup bowl, not expecting Làng to actually speak about himself nor the actual words he spoke. "Your whole life?"

"My mother raised me to be a sorcerous blade much like those in your Index, one who could be used in song and combat. She told me that the only way to protect a voice like mine was to become a songbird, an imperial treasure," Làng frowned. He couldn't recall a time when his mother hadn't harshly trained him. It was always that way and probably would have continued had his own voice not driven her off the cliff. His voice caused him so much trouble, and he had no way to truly control it other than to not speak unless necessary. "I should not have desires of my own, only letting those stronger tell me what was right."

Shāng knit his brow. Làng had never understood his own desires until that day he awoke Líng Yá, had he? "You know that's not true, right? You are a person with your own desires and a will and a soul, not someone to be constantly used."

"I do now," Làng admitted.

"Even though I may have called you a blade as well," Shāng sheepishly admitted.

"You were not wrong." Làng glanced up from his bowl at Shāng who busied himself with scratching at the side of his face. "A sorcerous blade who may have remained sealed within the mountains had Tiān Mìng not found me."

She smiled softly across the fire. "I felt bad about the situation. You finally had freed yourself from being used only to retreat into solitude. I had to speak my mind."

"I felt bad about what I'd said, but didn't know how to express it," Shāng admitted. Mù nodded in agreement. "You are a blade with a soul, one that can't just stop using sorcerous power. I had said too much, and I wasn't sure you'd even listen even if Tiān Mìng went to speak with you. I'm full glad you did come back down from those mountains. Being sealed away like that isn't where you belong."

Làng stared at the nearly empty bowl of lumpy soup. He really wasn't accustomed to people caring for him like this. His mother cared but she also wanted to use him like a singing blade. She wanted him to be part of the imperial court where his voice would be protected, but in truth, it was anything but that. "Everything changed when I met you both." Everyone else wanted to use him to advance their position or for their entertainment. The Hunting Fox got a promotion, the tavern made a fortune off him, and the princess used him for entertainment. He had met Mù some time before, but his mind couldn't realize that way of life wasn't the only way, that he could be his own blade instead of anyone else's.

"You're going to make him embarrassed with all this talk!" Líng Yá commented, only to be flicked in the face again.

Shāng laughed. "I guess we're both bad at talking about things like this, aren't we?"

"You both got that in common, man!" Líng Yá mused.

A soft smile crossed the musician's lips before he hid it behind the bowl of soup. He downed the last of it, wrinkling his nose at how bitter it was. How was soup even bitter? It was filling and satisfying at the very least. As he set the bowl down, something caught his attention. Footsteps crunching on leaves.

"Aaah! We've been found!" Líng Yá shouted. "Damn imperial bastards interrupting our meal!"

Làng frowned. He shouldn't have opened his mouth to speak. It always caused trouble, though it did feel nice to get those bottled up feelings out. He certainly wasn't going to make a habit of it, but a little bit for someone who was attempting to be his friend wouldn't hurt. He really wasn't good at this friendship thing just yet, but he'd managed to befriend Mù. He could befriend Shāng too, and that man was really trying to understand Làng in return. Not that Làng was exactly making it easy. Perhaps he could try to reach out a little more. Just not right now with the imperial search parties trying to interrupt dinner.

"Man, they are persistent," Shāng frowned, throwing a bucket of water on the fire. "We should retreat before they find us."

"Retreat?!" Líng Yá hissed. "We can take them on without that buzzing!"

"We need your ear to heal first," Mù pointed out.

Làng frowned. While he could still fight in this state, he had to admit his balance was just slightly sideways with his hearing still off on one side. It wouldn't exactly make for a good fight. Slinging Líng Yá on his back, he snagged the cloak he was sleeping on and followed the other two through the forest.

...

Author's musings

Lang and Shang have a sort of intrinsic understanding of each other in Season 2 but at the end of the movie, they really do not communicate well at all. Lang is definitely not one to talk about himself much at all, and on top of that, he's also trying to understand friends and desires and will would not be easy. And Shang, on the other hand, has never met someone quite like Lang. Mu is sort of an intermediary between the pair, but that only works so well.

But they're trying. They're trying to understand each other in and out of combat and as friends. Let's hope it goes well for them.