Sure enough, he had no kindred spirits.
Amid the surging ashes, Fu Qian didn't make a big show of trying to find the Inverted Lake again. Instead, he learned on the spot and launched into an Ode to Joy.
It was a little inappropriate for the occasion, so it was only right that no one applauded.
Thus, when the final note faded and neither a mermaid nor the Fool appeared, he wasn't displeased.
After paying brief respects to the latter's possible great achievement, Fu Qian got up and put away his harmonica, ready to wrap things up.
That was right. He hadn't even planned to wait for the Burial Scroll to finish cooling before activating it again to see what it would reveal.
The reason was, on the one hand, that he had gained a great deal. This expedition had already been a resounding success.
In fact, it had been almost too successful, as though heaven and earth themselves were about to be refined.
It wasn't only a matter of eating something and having it digested by stomach acid.
One moment, everything was fine; the next, it was defined as a lie, and even its truth became unstable. Wasn't that another kind of refinement?
As for the other reason, Fu Qian judged that even if he activated the Burial Scroll again, there probably wouldn't be anything left to see.
The script had been a mutual journey between the Fool and himself. It could only have taken shape because they were both pillars of power. Calling it a fateful encounter was no exaggeration.
But when he refused to use himself as the anchor for defining the world's truth, that opportunity had clearly been spent.
It wasn't impossible to gather it again, but technically speaking, he would first have to return to