Something prickled beneath Baoshan Sanren's skin. Her realm was vast, and the land a part of her; it was telling her something was amiss. She settled down in meditation and cast out her senses. Some time later – she wanted to say scant minutes, but in her fifth century time slipped through her fingers like sand – she located the disturbance.
Xiao Xingchen had broken his promise and returned. Worse, he had brought someone with him.
Baoshan Sanren rose. The boy – if he still was one – should learn of consequences.
"There's a dip in the road; watch your step," Xiao Xingchen's voice came from the distance.
Overly cautious, or dealing with an invalid? Baoshan Sanren supposed the world of mortals would've left her once-shining student bruised and battered and consumed by regret. There was a reason she had shut the gates so tight.
She passed the final turn of the path from the mountain slopes to the flatlands, and finally saw her erstwhile student. He was young, still, and his companion of similar age. Both had tear tracks on their faces, the companion's of blood. Pain was written over his every feature.
"Shizun." Xiao Xingchen bowed. With his head to the ground, he continued, "I know I promised not to return, but my cultivation partner Song Zichen has been blinded by an evil hooligan who killed his family solely because of our association. I don't know how to heal his eyes, but Shizun, surely you must know some method?"
"So you have come to beg me for a favor."
"No! This is all my fault, but I don't know how to fix it," Xiao Xingchen said. He swallowed. "Please help Zichen. I will do anything you ask and stay away in the future."
Baoshan Sanren sighed. She'd left the mortal world so no-one would beg at her doorstep for aid, yet here her student was, begging like so many had done before him. The world of mortals was hard and merciless, all too ready to batter the soft to bruises. Xiao Xingchen, soft and shining, had now learned this lesson Baoshan Sanren would rather none of her students learn.
Before her, Xiao Xingchen quietly sobbed, and Song Zichen trembled with pain. Blood seeped through his closed lids.
She'd been soft, once, before she'd been broken. And it seemed cultivating to immortality had healed her and made her soft again. "Very well," she sighed. "Let us bring your friend to the mountain. I'll see what I can do."
Xiao Xingchen's head snapped up. His surprised delight was blinding. "Thank you, Shizun!" he exclaimed, before prostrating himself again.
Baoshan Sanren knew she must have been that young, once, but she couldn't remember the time. With a small shake of the head, she led the procession slowly – Xiao Xingchen's blinded friend stumbled over every step – up the mountain and couldn't bring herself to curse her softness.