BuffShizunLetsgooo

Edit: Hey if you see any posts on here that I wrote and think, "Man I wish I could use that," you can! Free of charge! As long as you don't, for whatever reason, use them for AI related things. BUT ALSO PLEASE TAG ME I WANNA SEE THEM. I MUST CONSUME. I. MUST. FEAST.

Da-ge snorts, enjoying his favorite resting position of chin to crown. "This Master is middling at best."

"Da-ge is the greatest!" Binghe doubles down, "The most feilial, the most responsible!"

His guardian grins into his hair, squeezing Binghe lightly. "Da-ge's own elder brothers would disagree greatly, I promise you- especially the feilial part. This master was a menace in his younger years."

"Then they're wrong!" Binghe cries. He basks in the faint chuff Da-ge makes in response, the bubbly gid of smothered giggles filling him with a sense of victory he knew he could ride for the rest of the day.

"Yes, yes, alright. Da-ge is whatever Bing'er says."

"Good, because Da-ge *is* the best." Binghe turns under his guardian's chin and hugs him tightly. "Da-ge is the second best thing to ever happen to me."

The bubbly feeling startles, but instead of popping entirely (like he briefly fears), it smoothes out into quiet contemplation and awe.

"Binghe really believes that, doesn't he?"

"Bing'er," Binghe protests. Da-ge laughs and pets his hair.

"Yes, yes. The Little Emperor is Bing'er, I haven't forgotten."

Good, Binghe nods to himself. As long as Da-ge remembers to call him Bing'er, Da-ge doesn't get sad.

--

"Wait a moment: *Second* best?"

Binghe giggles, leaning back into the cradle of Da-ge's arms to look up at him. "After A-niang."

"Ahhhh," Da-ge's smile goes small and understanding. "This master can live with that. Second place to your mother- that is a true honor indeed."

Something inside Binghe grows just a little bit warmer after that.

--

Sometimes at night, when Da-ge drifted into a light doze, Binghe would bring out the tassel and pendant and stare at them under the pale moonlight.

He wasn't entirely sure why he did this. To check they were still there? Just to feel them? All he knew for sure was, after a few minutes of this, some wriggling, anxious part of him he'd barely noticed would finally settle down just long enough for him to curl himself tighter under Da-ge's arms and finally drift away into deep sleep.

He'd still yet to notice Da-ge was never truely at rest in those moments.

--

"Da-ge?"

"Hm?" Da-ge was in control this time. They'd had a scare with a group of bandits a few miles back, and the second those people had looked at Binghe with leering eyes, Da-ge had switched them out so quick he'd left Binghe nauseous and clinging to his back.

"Who was Da-ge before this?"

Because you see, Binghe had known Da-ge was someone spectacular for awhile, but knowing was a different thing from watching your tiny body throw a full grown man into a tree and kick another in the crotch so hard that the entire encampment could hear the crack of an abruptly ended family line. Spoken frankly, the curiosity was eating at him.

His guardian pauses with his hand to a tree, Binghe's physical body aching and panting for breath, but Da-ge's mind racing.

"...a fraud, mostly."

Binghe is almost too taken aback at first to get offended.

Almost.

"Da-ge is no fraud!" He protests vehemently. He sits up, banging his small fists harmlessly against his guardian's back. "Da-ge is good and kind and the best! Not a fraud!"

"These things can still be true while also being a fraud, Bing'er."

"No! No, no, no!"

Da-ge sighs, but at the tail end of it is almost a laugh of relief. His whole soul- it's so strange. It's as if an unseen tension has unwound, leaving his guardian's shoulders loose with shear relief.

Binghe bangs his fists against Da-ge's back a few more times, just to get his point across. No frauds here! Da-ge is Da-ge, and any who say otherwise will feel Binghe's wrath!!

Da-ge shakes their head, muttering aloud, "What a silly child."

Binghe only realizes he's been successfully distracted about an hour later.

--

Binghe wakes up one freezing night to the smell of warm food, the gentle drift of fingers through his hair, and the call of his name as a blue light shines in his eyes.

"Mm...?"

"Wake up, Bing'er. We have a surprise for you."

It's four freshly steamed Baozi, filled with red bean paste and so hot that the bread sticks to his fingers and tears when he pulls back his hand.

Binghe's breath catches in his chest, "How...?"

"System has its moments."

"B-But I thought System-spirit couldn't..."

[An exception was made for Character: Luo Binghe’s special day! (⸝⸝> ω <⸝⸝)]

Da-ge shoots it an exasperated side-eye, "System found a loop hole."

[( ˵ ◡ ̀ ◡◡ ́ ˵ ) ✧]

"...loop...hole...?"

Binghe's guardian gives him a gentle head pat, "Happy birthday, Binghe."

Oh. *Oh-!!!*

The boy bursts into tears, both physically and soulfully. It's still a bit odd for him, controlling two separated selves at once, but though he's a bit clumsy about it, he manages to both shove a baozi into his mouth and tackle Da-ge into the tightest hug he could manage, all the while sobbing out loud 'thank you's to his second best person and the system-spirit with all his heart.

He's 10 years old today.

--

Da-ge makes him wait until he can breathe properly to actually eat. Something about choking to death.

--

The closer Binghe and his guardian get to Cang Qiong, the less willing to talk Da-ge becomes.

It's not just dread for his Guardian, it's sadness, exhaustion, numbness; a deep, growing void that eats at Da-ge's heart, and no matter how Binghe tries to cheer him, it's like pouring oil onto water. The happiness doesn't last.

It scares Binghe, those feelings. What if the next wave comes, and Binghe can't shoo it away? What if his Da-ge gets stuck there, in that awful grey? It's not all the time, but it happens enough that Binghe fears the next wave. Will this one be the one to stay?

Binghe clings to his Da-ge tightly in these moments. He doesn't dare leave his lap for even a second, and while holding him doesn't always keep Da-ge from drifting, it does seem to teather and sooth, somewhere deep down in that sinkhole.

"Da-ge...?"

His guardian hums, gazing somewhere unblinkingly into the distance through their eyes.

"Da-ge is sad again."

No reply.

Binghe curls up tighter in Da-ge's lap and lifts that calloused hand to his crown, running that large palm clumsily down his curls. "Can Da-ge tell me why?"

After a few passes down his hair, Da-ge follows the pattern on his own. Binghe isn't sure he even knows he's doing it.

Upset chokes Binghe unexpectedly. His eyes burn. "Da-ge...?"

Abruptly, his guardian snaps out of it.

"Binghe...?" Da-ge blinks slowly. He closes his eyes tightly for a moment, brows furrowing. He gives his head a shake.

"Bing'er," Binghe protests, bottom lip trembling. Da-ge opens his eyes again, and they're finally clear and alert. They recognize Binghe when they look at him.

They're regretful when they meet his own.

"Oh, Bing'er..." Both hands cradle his face, "I left you behind again, didn't I?"

Binghe lip-wobble worsens. He nods, barely holding it in, and Da-ge pulls him into a tight hug.

"I'm so sorry, Bing'er. So, so sorry."

Binghe clings to the back of his robes tightly, voice a cracking mess of unshed tears. "Where did you go?"

Da-ge doesn't answer, but this time Binghe knows why: even Da-ge doesn't know where he goes in those moments. He just...goes.

--

But the real strangeness isn't the return itself. It's in the feeling that he hasn't returned alone.

"Binghe is alright?"

There are arms wrapped around him. He can feel them, and yet it's not around his body.

"Mm. I'm here." He replies, knowing somehow that what this man wanted wasn't to know his condition so much as reassurance he was there at all. He leans into those arms and does his best to return the gesture. It feels a little strange, since he's doing it with his soul, but now that he's aware of himself in that way, it's almost like slipping his arms out of his sleeves to hold himself under his robes- except instead of holding himself, there's someone in his robes with him.

It's very odd, and maybe a little cramped, but...Binghe likes it. It's like sharing a small bed for warmth. Is that weird?

"Ah, this master sees there will be a learning curve for this if we want privacy. No, I don't believe that is weird, Binghe. Atleast, not for you."

....there's affection in that last sentence, but Binghe feels a bit like he's being indulged for his eccentricities rather than truly absolved of any strangeness. But, well, if his new companion- guardian?- isn't bothered by it, why should he?

"We should get moving. Can Binghe stand on his own?"

He tries. His eyes still refuse to open, though, and it's like all his muscles have locked into place. They just won't move.

"Ah, I see the problem." His guardian murmurs. Those warm arms squeeze briefly, and then very carefully Binghe is being pulled back from- himself? as his guardian slips into his place. "Forgiveness, this might not feel very good."

Binghe barely has a moment to feel disoriented before- oh. Oh, that *is* some kind of- what is that? It's not pain. It's like-...

"Being heated up from the inside." His guardian finishes for him, "This master is using qi to, ah...thaw Binghe out, for lack of better words."

"Oh." Right. Because he froze to death.

He feels his guardian wince. That's another odd thing to get used to. For some reason, ever since they've returned to his body, it's like Binghe can feel an echo of his guardian's feelings...and maybe thoughts? He's fairly sure his Guardian feels it too.

"This Master believes we are sharing these things due to our...proximity."

Abruptly, Binghe feels himself start to move. If it had been disorienting to be pulled back, it was even more so to be a passenger in his own body.

His guardian, of course, hears this thought and winces harder, "Just a moment. I'll return control to Binghe as soon as the stiffness is gone."

"No! It's alright!" Binghe tries to reassure- and he means it. Strange as it is, having his guardian at the reigns feels like...having a moment to breathe. It's nice- even if it feels a bit like standing in a boat.

"Ah, well...this is still not something we should do often. Binghe should live his life under his own power. This Master will save this sort of thing for emergencies."

Binghe agrees easily, if with a hint of disappointment. After all, how fair would it be for his Guardian to have given up so much to help him live, just for Binghe to turn around and make him live his life for him?

"That is-" The man sighs, "While your conclusion is correct, your reasoning...Binghe, I'm not saying I won't because I think it's unfair to me, I'm saying I won't because it's unfair to *you*. This is your body, your life; you should get to live it as *you* want to, not under the whims of another."

....oh.

If Binghe had any control of his body, he just knew he'd be blushing right now- and then he remembered that his guardian could feel that from him regardless and his fluster only grew stronger.

"You're squirming," His guardian said with fond exasperation.

"Sorry."

His body performed some odd movements- stretches?- and after a few rounds of silly feeling poses, Binghe was gently herded back into place in himself.

Where he promptly faceplanted into the hard ground.

"Binghe!"

"I'm okay," Binghe groaned, pushing himself up. "Just wasn't ready yet, I don't think."

His guardian fretted against his back, and though it didn't help much for his physical self, the careful patting and soothing of the same areas his newest hurts laid certainly made him feel better- like when his mother would kiss his bruises better, almost.

Binghe pushes himself back to his feet. He has to take a moment to marvel at himself, though. He'd been so cold only moments ago, but now he almost feels like he could run around in these winds for hours.

"Be that as it may, Binghe should not." There's a small nudge to his back, "Binghe needs to seek shelter. My qi is not infinate and will only help so long in a body without proper meridians to hold it."

There's something there in that statement. Something like irony, something like grief. This situation...is it reminding his guardian of something?

Exasperation: "Stop analyzing this master and go."

Oops. "Yes, sir."

"Don't call me that. It's strange to hear that from you."

Binghe doesn't understand why, but if his guardian wants to be called something else, who is Binghe to deny him? "What would sir- what would you like to be called?"

There's a beat of- not silence. Binghe has the sense that, between them, there may never truly be silence ever again. Instead there is just a wordless feeling of 'Maybe? No,' as his guardian shuffles ideas around again and again until, finally, "Would you be adverse to Da-ge?"

"Da-ge?" Not a name?

Da-ge hisses- bristles, really. "That damned System hasn't let me use my own name since the day I became a Peak Lord, and the only other name you could use is already taken by someone I'd rather not be confused with." He forces himself calm, though Binghe could still feel the ruffled feathers, "I'm too old to be your gege, but anything else in our situation would perhaps be considered inappropriately distant. So. Da-ge."

Well, the reasoning did seem sound. And it wasn't as if Binghe *disliked* calling his guardian so closely...however: "If Da-ge let's me call him so, then Da-ge should call Binghe something too."

"Ah?"

Binghe nods, feeling more sure of the idea. "Da-ge should! A-niang used to call me by another name sometimes. Maybe Bing-didi? Or maybe A-He!"

Amusement flashed bright like a laugh between them. It dazzled the poor boy, stunning him just enough that he almost missed it entirely when Da-ge said, "Bing'er will do just fine, I think."

Bing'er? Bing'er!!

That feeling passed between them again, "Bing'er is squirming. You like it that much?"

"Mm! Bing'er likes it!"

Da-ge really laughed this time. Binghe felt like he'd managed a great accomplishment.

--

Da-ge helps him find a safe shelter to stay in for the night. It's not comfortable, but it's clean compared to the tiny alley he'd died in and easily missed by passing parties. Best yet, Da-ge shows him how to scratch warming talismans into the wall with a broken shard of ceramic, which means that (finally! After ages!) Binghe gets to spend a night sleeping without his own shivers startling him awake.

"We'll find you a blanket soon," Da-ge promises, but Binghe shakes his head. "This Bing'er won't trouble Da-ge so. The talisman is enough."

Da-ge isn't satisfied with that, but for now he doesn't argue; and Binghe gets to fall asleep warm, safe, and held in the arms of someone who cares about him.

It's practically heaven.

--

"Bing'er still wishes to go to Cang Qiong then?"

"Mm." Binghe nods, "This one promised A-niang before she died."

Da-ge hums a resigned note, "And this master can't convince you otherwise?"

"Nope!"

A soft, resigned sigh- "Alright,"- and that was the end of that subject.

--

Food was a real problem. Da-ge could guide him to shelter, teach him talismans and lend him energy to power them, but Da-ge could not make food appear from nothing, and the System-spirit could only help indirectly when Binghe was at the brink of collapse (Da-ge asked).

"Bing'er could hunt?" Binghe offered.

"It's an idea," Da-ge agreed reluctantly, "But there are dangers in this area that Bing'er is not yet strong enough to handle. It would be risky."

"Dangers?'

"Beasts, flowers," Da-ge rests his chin on Binghe's head. "Demonic varieties, if you're terribly unlucky."

And Binghe knew he fell under the terribly unlucky category easily. He crossed that idea off the list.

"I could...ask a vendor?"

Binghe dismissed that idea at the same moment Da-ge did. They both knew how the food stalls could be.

"....Bing'er will not like this idea, but has he considered stealing?"

Binghe bulked. Stealing?!

"Ah, I was afraid you'd react like that."

System-spirit seemed to think it was a great idea, though, because it suddenly appeared before them with a request.

[Quest Unlocked: "Feed the Protagonist!" User must help Character: Luo Binghe eat atleast one (1) meal a day, by any means necessary!]

[Reward for first-time completion: one (1) Temporary Good Luck Charm!]

Binghe frowns at it, talking out loud for the first time in days: "Don't make trouble for Da-ge!"

[=͟͟͞͞(꒪ᗜ꒪‧̣̥̇) but System is only trying to help?]

Binghe doesn't see how encouraging bad ideas is helping.

--

...it helped.

--

The Temporary Good Luck Charm was a simple tassel with an intricate knot and dyed what must have once been bright red. Da-ge gets one look at it and nearly chokes.

"Is that my-?!"

[One (1) Temporary Good Luck Charm Unlocked!] System dings near desperately, [Congratulations, Congratulations, Congratulations! Good things must be said three times!]

"Don't you brush me off you overgrown peice of-"

[To activate Temporary Good Luck Charm, Character: Luo Binghe must simply wear it! Good luck, User!]

And then it blipped away. Like it was never there.

Da-ge fumed, "That awful, no good, thieving little malware! When I finally get my hands on you-!!"

Binghe looked the tassel over a little more closely, "Did this belong to Da-ge?"

Da-ge slowly let out a hissed breath. "Yes, my sister bought it for me a long time ago. I'd thought I'd lost it, though."

"Does Da-ge want it back?"

Despite being the one to offer, knowing it was Da-ge's made him reluctant to part with it. Da-ge, of course, did not miss that at all and side-eyed him skeptically.

"....No. Keep it."

A-niang had taught him well enough to know that he should insist and ask again, just to be sure, but Binghe 1) knew Da-ge meant it and 2) very much didn't want Da-ge to change his mind. So, he tucked it in his clothes. That counted as wearing it, right?

[Character: Luo Binghe is correct!]

"GET! BEGONE BARGAIN-BRAND SIRI!"

[(╯ ಠдಠ) ╯︵┻━┻]

His mother, his dearest A-niang, died several months before, and as he'd promised her, he'd been slowly making his way to the nearest Cultivation Sect, Cang Qiong Mountain- but the path there was cold. So cold. And he didn't just mean the weather, it was the people too.

Binghe, despite everything, believed his mother's words. Good people do exist in the world, he has proof in way of his own A-niang; but there must be something wrong with Binghe, something inherently despicable or just grating to the senses that his poor mother just was too sick to feel or see, because even animals avoided standing in his path. He was a pariah to everyone and everything- and that. That was a problem.

Maybe it was part of his rare hints of good luck- maybe there was a God out there taking pity on him- but Winter had set in late this year. On one hand, this was great for everyone. More time to store food and supplies (if you had a home), more time to seek steady shelter (if you didn't).

On the other, when Winter- like a desperate new hire who'd never meant to cause trouble on its first day- came in, it came in scrambling and frantic.

For Binghe, it was the beginning of the end. He'd not been able to find shelter. He'd not even been able to secure a blanket, or extra clothes to wrap himself in. He was exposed, cold, and terribly, terribly alone as bitter, biting winds swept through his tiny alley and stole away even the heat from his lungs with its awful, chilling wails.

The last thing he remembers is noting how his teeth had stopped chattering; and then, like a miracle, the sleep he'd been chasing finally stopped running. His eyes closed, and for a brief moment, he felt warm.

Then he woke up here, in this dark place.

"H-Hello?"

His voice did not echo.

Binghe turned this way and that, hands clenched together tight enough to hurt. This place was dark as he'd never seen it. No moon, no stars...it was as if the deepest shadows had swallowed him whole, and now he was in the belly of some beast.

"Hello?" He tried to keep his voice steady, but it still cracked on the 'o'. Terror climbed; what if there was a creature out there? And now that it has heard his fear, what if it charges out from the dark to hurt him?!

No! No. Stay calm, Binghe! Be brave!

"........!"

Ah? A voice!

"Hello?" Binghe takes a few steps forward, "Hello?! I hear you! Can you help me? Can you tell me where I am?"

The voice continues on like it hadn't heard him. Maybe he was too far away?

He was! As jittery legs cross the unknowable distance, that inaudible voice becomes faint words, and those faint words- they sound upset. Furious, but also...sad. The same sad he felt when he came home and found his A-niang had passed without him.

Sympathy, hurt, and grief wells up from his chest, lodges in his throat, and burns his eyes. He walks faster now. He remembers what if felt like to be alone and feeling this way. He remembers it accutely. Maybe if he's kind and good to this other person, they can feel this way together, and it won't hurt so bad? A-naing used to say burdens shared were burdens made lighter, so-!

".....on't care...!" The voice cries, "...put me through hell...start all over again?! No! I refuse!"

Oh! A light! That must be where the voice is coming from!

There's also a new voice: odder, quieter. There's a strangely metallic, shinging echo in its words. Something Binghe had no comparison for. He just barely makes out "Needed" before the first voice explodes in a rage so potent that it brings Binghe to a frozen standstill.

"MY HUSBAND NEEDS ME! MY PEAK- MY DISCIPLES-" The voice chokes, stalls, then resumes with less volume, but so much more venom. "Why should I help you? Why should I fix *your* mistakes? What gives you the right to tear me away from the happy ending my husband and I- What gives you the *right*?!"

Oh. This- This was not a good time to speak up.

Binghe takes a step back; but then, from the nothingness behind him, a hand pushes him forward.

He can tell the touch was meant to be gentle. It landed on his back with the faintest touch, and only put pressure as it pushed, but whoever the hand belonged to was either strong or healthy, and Binghe was small and weak with hunger, exhaustion, and all sorts of little ailments he could no longer pinpoint after months or years of feeling them constantly.

All that to say, he tripped over his own two feet trying to regain his balance and fell onto his aching hands and knees with a yelp sharp enough to cut through everything.

The yelling stops abruptly.

"....Binghe?"

There were no footstep. One moment the voice is far, then next it is right above him. Large hands reach out and help him into a kneel, and when he looks up, he sees a man with sharp features, long, inky hair, and clothes far more expensive than even the masters his mother worked for would ever have been able to afford.

Binghe stares. He registers, with some distant, glimmeringly bright disbelief, that those same hands are patting him down and checking his hands and face for scrapes and bruises. Those hands are cold and calloused, he notes. They feel like hands that should be hurting him, rather than soothing.

-but those eyes, they're like his mother's. They look at Binghe with care and worry and warmth. They look at him like he means something beyond 'pest' or 'trouble' or 'dirty.'

At the same time, they're nothing like her's at all, and for the life of him, Binghe can't pinpoint *how*.

"...Um!" He suddenly remembers his manners, "H-Hello! This lowly one is Luo Binghe!" He bows clumsily, "Excuse this one for not greeting you properly!"

A cold hand pushes him out of his bow by his shoulder. Those green eyes watch him intensely, colored in shades of confused grief.

"Binghe, what are you doing here?"

Binghe opens his mouth, but that light answers for him, popping into existence with an odd bell sound.

[Character: Luo Binghe has died.]

"...huh?"

The man turns to him sharply while he gapes at the odd light. The hands are back, patting him down more thoroughly, turning his head this way and that. "Impossible. How? There's not a wound on him that could have led to that!"

[Character: Luo Binghe succumbed to the elements. ._.)]

.....oh. So, when he fell asleep just now...

Binghe doesn't even have a moment to mourn himself before the man is turning a snarl onto the light. "You let him *freeze to death*?!"

[It was unintentional! This System only looked away for a moment. ( •̯́ ^ •̯̀)]

The man sputters, hisses, and then slaps at the light with clawing fingers. "Now is not an appropriate time for your stupid Koamojis! Fix him! Fix him right now!"

His hand passed through it harmlessly, but the [Σ(°ロ°)] and quickly followed up [Please do not hit this System!] Said that, even if no physical harm was done, this light still registered it as an attack- or atleast a sign of displeasure.

"I'll hit you more if you don't put this boy exactly where you found him!"

[ >A<) System can't do that! This System already said it needed User's assistance: this is what this System needs help with!]

Binghe quickly becomes peripheral in this argument, but not lost. Somehow, this light- a spirit?- was responsible for him. It was...some kind of guardian? Meant to keep him alive and 'monitor him throughout the plot'.

For some reason, it failed. It wouldn't say why, but Binghe recognized this sort of confrontation. The man, like an experienced, valued hire on a farm to a disfavored, incompetent 'young master', was scolding this System at length, giving it no quarter as he tore into it with words Binghe only vaguely understood because of context clues.

In conclusion, Binghe is in a precarious position. At the moment, he's newly departed. Freshly dead. His soul is still tethered to his body, but if this man does not assist, this System spirit will have no choice but to lift the stasis it currently has on him and allow him to return to the cycle of rebirth.

The man doesn't want this. He seems to care for Binghe dearly, and is enraged on Binghe's behalf that his life was cut short too early, but at the same time, System-Spirit seems to be demanding a price the man just isn't willing to pay.

It sounds like, maybe, whatever it is that System-Spirit must do to bring him back might require the man to stay with him? Possibly forever.

Maybe it's selfish of him, but Binghe...doesn't mind that. Maybe even hopes for it, just a little. After all, this man's first reaction to seeing him was to check if he was unharmed, and his second upon hearing of his possibly very permanent death was to grip onto Binghe and not let go. Someone like that- shouldn't he hold on back just as tightly?

"But..." The man turns a helpless look onto him. There's a hint of shine in his eyes. "My husband..."

Oh. *Oh.*

Binghe scolds himself. This man isn't like him. He has a home, a family: people he obviously cares very deeply about for such a stern face to come near tears. Binghe has no right to ask him to give it that up- not when he isn't even sure he *wants* to go back.

"Sir," There's a tight feeling in his chest, but Binghe ignores it in favor of grabbing the hand holding onto him and tugging it free. The man, strangely indulgent of him, lets him, watching Binghe take it into both his small hands. In return, he gives the man his best beaming smile, hoping to assure as well as comfort. "It's alright. You can go."

The man's eyes widen, then settle into deep sadness. "Oh, Binghe..." He pulls his hand free and then, with both palms open, gently cradles Binghe's face. A thumb brushes under one of his eyes. "Silly boy, you don't even know your crying, do you?"

Ah? Oh, oh no...! Binghe flinches back and frantically wipes at his face, but the damage is done. The man watches him struggle with himself for just a moment, then lets out a great, shoulder slumping sigh.

"I will stay," he say to the spirit. "I will fix your mistake and keep him alive, and in return you *will* figure out some way for me to return home. Do we have a deal?"

[ . . . ]