In the days that followed, Lan Yin was brought home. He didn't sleep or eat for several days and nights, and his parents said nothing, simply letting him sit on the bed and stare into space each day.
On the evening of the seventh day, Lan Yin's father came in and helped him up.
"Yin'er, someone has come to see you."
Lan Yin still refused to speak, but then I heard, from outside the room, a crisp clatter—the sound of chains. Immediately after, Hank entered, his wrists bound with glowing green shackles.
"Hank..."
Lan Yin finally spoke. Overcome with emotion, he rushed forward and grabbed Hank's shoulders. Lan Yin's father quietly left the room.
"Honored Hell's Registrars, thank you for your hard work. Please come to the main hall—I've prepared food and wine."
Suddenly, Lan Yin looked at Hank with excitement.
"Hank, later I'll find a way to help you escape. As long as..."
Lan Yin seemed to think of something. Hank started to laugh.
"Lan Yin, I've already been cremated. Don't you remember? Heh."
Lan Yin fell silent, a heavy sadness settling over him as he gazed at Hank with mournful eyes.
"Lan Yin, it's alright. Uncle Lan already told me—I can be reincarnated soon. Our bond in this life ends here, Lan Yin."
As Hank spoke, he suddenly slapped Lan Yin on the cheek.
"Don't look so defeated. You couldn't save me this time, but I don't blame you, Lan Yin. I know you're not ordinary—you have so many thoughts bottled up inside, it's not healthy."
Lan Yin nodded, unable to say a word. He looked as though he was in pain.
"My story ends here, Lan Yin. You've done all you could. Honestly, I wish we could've stayed friends a little longer, but fate only brought us this far."
In that moment, tears streamed down Lan Yin's face. His whole body trembled.
"It's alright, Lan Yin. Do you remember what I told you by the river?"
Lan Yin choked back a sob and nodded.