A Conversation with Yinsen

Lin Hai did not answer Yinsen's question immediately. He looked at the man's cracked lips and somewhat dazed eyes, then raised a hand and drew it through the air. Golden sparks burst forth from nowhere, eventually forming a Portal less than a meter in diameter.

Beyond the Portal was a corner of the Los Angeles cottage's living room. Through it, he could see the sofa, the coffee table, and the kettle on it that the four of them used every day.

Lin Hai reached through the Portal, grabbed the kettle by its handle, and pulled it over. Then, under Yinsen's increasingly unfocused gaze, he rose and walked to the wooden table, picked up a white porcelain cup, and tilted the kettle to pour it more than half full.

After doing all that, he returned to the bedside with the kettle in one hand and the porcelain cup in the other. Only after sending the kettle back through the Portal did he wave a hand and close it.

Only then did Lin Hai offer Yinsen the cup of water, which still retained some warmth. "Want some water?"

Yinsen's gaze had completely lost focus, and even his expression was beginning to slip out of control. That incomprehensible scene had made him question whether he was dead or not. Was this still Earth?

He instinctively raised his weak hand and accepted the warm porcelain cup.

Lin Hai supported his shoulder and back, helping him sit up from the bed. Yinsen held the cup in both hands and brought it to his lips. The warm water moistened his dry mouth before flowing into his stomach with a comforting heat.

The cup was soon empty. After setting it aside, Yinsen let out a long breath. He felt some strength returning to his body, and even