In Every Other Life

Part 2

Shen Qiao decided to sit on the foot of the bed once he and Song Lan entered their room. Song Lan didn't sit beside him. Instead, he sat at the table in front of the window and watched Shen Qiao with a small smile on his face.

"Zichen, how will we talk if you are so far away?" Shen Qiao asked Song Lan. Song Lan frowned. He was always like this, Shen Qiao remembered, so he got up instead and closed the window to keep out the chill before sitting across from Song Lan. "Aren't you cold too?"

Song Lan looked at Shen Qiao's innocent face and shook his head slowly before looking down at the table. He honestly wasn't cold because...dead people and fierce corpses like him didn't feel the cold or the heat. They couldn't do most of the things living humans with running blood and beating hearts could do.

The silence in the room would have been stifling if it was between anyone else, but they didn't mind. The silence was filled with memories.

Eventually a thought occurred to Song Lan, and from the two swords he had unstrapped from his back, he pulled forward the white one covered in frost flowers—Shanghua—and gently held it in front of Shen Qiao with both his hands.

"It-s yo-urs, Xiao— Shen Qi-ao." Song Lan said. Song Lan had kept Shanghua with him in place of Xiao Xingchen's company for all those—it was right to return it to its owner though.

Shen Qiao smiled at first, but his hand flinched away from it after touching its cold sheath. How could he ever wield this sword again? After all the evil's he had done in his previous life, even in this life or in the next thousand life times, how could he ever compensate for his sins.

"I can't. It deserves a just and honourable master—not me. Besides... It's yours now. I can feel that it is attached to you. In this life I am only a stranger to it, and perhaps it is best that way." Shen Qiao said, as memories of realising his sins resurfaced.

Song Lan shook his head. He may have kept Shanghua and used it as he would his own sword, but it was never truly his. Song Lan pushed Shanghua closer to Shen Qiao but Shen Qiao shook his head frantically before admitting his feelings.

"I don't want a sword used to murder innocent people, Zichen. It can only redeem itself in your hands, not mine. I killed them and you too." Shen Qiao said. He looked into Song Lan's eyes and bit his lip. "Zichen... Do you blame me?"

Song Lan had never blamed Xiao Xingchen, nor had he ever resented Shanghua. "No." He said honestly. Tears instantly pooled into Shen Qiao's eyes. It tugged at Song Lan's heart. This... This wasn't how Xiao Xingchen or Shen Qiao should ever be, especially because of him. Song Lan had never wondered before, whether or not Xiao Xingchen wanted to see him again or whether or not it would be good for Xiao Xingchen's mentality. Now, Song Lan wondered if Shen Qiao would have been happier if he had never met Song Lan.

"Why don't you? Why did you save my soul?" Shen Qiao pleaded in a small voice. He tried to hide his face and dry his tears. Shen Qiao's body shivered. Song Lan wasn't sure if it was the cold in the air, or if Shen Qiao was really hurting that much.

"I'm so-rry." Song Lan said. He took the blanket off the bed and wrapped it around Shen Qiao's back, coving Shen Qiao's front tightly, then he pulled Shen Qiao close and held him as he cried.

Shen Qiao wasn't sure if he was crying because he was overwhelmed by joy at having his partner back, at not being hated, at being forgiven...or because what he did to Song Lan was truly unforgivable, because he deserved Song Lan's hatred, because...he didn't deserve Song Lan's loyalty and devotion. Song Lan had never stopped searching for him in his past life, and eventually died because of him...by his own sword—no—by his own hand—Shanghua was simply a tool, an extension of himself.