He could hear his own grief reflected and refracted in the other man's voice. Hear his own pain echoed back to him. It deepened his sorrow but also returned some of his resolve, and he pulled back - sitting up straight - letting his eyes meet those of Gaowen's. He did not pull far enough to feel the man's fingers leave his cheek, but nor did he return the touch.

"... I have not been Qiuqiu since the day you were lost," he says, his voice low and firm. He had never expected to have to introduce himself again, and the misery edged into his voice.

"... I am Yi Zhuiying, outer disciple of the Lan Sect. I am not... I am not the child you knew. I won't be again. He hunted the wolf for far too long."

His eyes fell to his wrist, and he moved to gentle touch the bracelet, long delicate fingers passing over the cold metal. "I had thought I would wear this until he was dead," he murmured, before raising his eyes again. "... But now, instead, I can return it."