That night at the inn Fu Shulin moved around Yao Yan with unusual trepidation. He wasn't sure what to expect from the conversation they were still postponing. They shared a plain meal of congee in silence and when they were both done eating Fu Shulin hurried to clear out the bowls, so he had an excuse to put some distance between the two of them.
When he returned from washing the dishes Yao Yan was still sitting at the table, his head lowered.
"Sit down, I see you running around like a headless chicken."
Fu Shulin sat across from him, the low table between the two of them. In the months since the attack he had grow to trust Yao Yan like a father, it didn't escape his notice that he could have turned him into the yamen and saved himself the life of a runaway. Yao Yan hadn't done anything beyond defending himself, it was Fu Shulin who had lost control and killed Soaring Crane cultivators. But Yao Yan had stood by him, selflessly -- Fu Shulin had thought; but now he wondered.