It was always going to be a beach. Li Lianhua watches the waves and Di Feisheng watches him, remarkably still even for an occasional statue of a man. He doesn't believe in ghosts particularly, but he's willing to be talked around, for how eerie a scene it all makes. Stark white and unworldly sand and the changing and changeless sea.

At least he can't blame Li Lianhua's regression (or failing senses?) for letting him get this close unnoticed; there's nothing to suppress and nothing to give him away, with the sound of waves to mask his steps. It's a little funny for being stripped of all his hard earned skill to be an advantage, except for how terrifying it's been, underneath all the resigned determination to rectify it.

Unfortunately, however peaceful it seems, the peace can't last even if this is the wrong beach and the wrong time. There has to be some accounting for broken promises and broken swords. But first things first.

“Li Lianhua! I'm glad you're still alive after all.”