When someone felt hollow and lost, they instinctively sought something to anchor their soul. Mulan wandered the streets in a daze, walking from the first gray light of dawn until the streets filled with pedestrians. Without thinking, he followed a relatively familiar route, until a voice called out to him.
"Mr. X?"
Moor had been about to go out to buy breakfast when he opened his door and saw Mr. X staggering toward him. At the sound of his voice, the man raised his head, revealing a haggard face and vacant eyes.
"Mr. X, what's wrong? What happened?"
Moor hurried over to support Mulan, glanced around, then helped him into the house. He settled him at the kitchen table and even made him a cup of coffee.
Mulan was not entirely unresponsive. He still knew to cup the coffee in his hands for warmth, but he merely stared blankly at the rising steam without saying a word.
Moor found a blanket and draped it over Mulan, then stoked the fire. Beyond that, all he could do was worry helplessly. He knew something must have happened.
"Mr. X, what on earth happened to you? How could someone as powerful and wise as you end up like this? If you're facing some difficulty, tell me. I can help you think of a solution!"
Mulan raised his head to look at Moor beside him and shook it slightly.
"There's no point."
"No point in what?"
Mulan fell silent again. Moor was so anxious he wanted to tug at his beard.
"There's no hardship you can't overcome. When I was in danger before, I thought there was no way out, but you came and saved me. Perhaps I can help you now. Mr. X, what happened?"
"My best friend passed away."
Mulan spoke softly,