Early the next morning, the Fang family stood draped in mourning, the air felt heavy with the smokes and sorrow as the clan gathered for the funeral.
Rows of pyres had been prepared, each one waiting to carry a young soul back to the heavens.
Fang Sun sat motionless, his eyes lifeless as he stared at the pyre where his grandson's body lay, soon to be claimed by fire.
His lips trembled as he tried to form words but no sound came out.
From behind, Fang Chen walked over to Fang Sun's side in silence, his face ashen.
He reached out and clasped Sun's hand, his voice low and rough.
"Old friend… it's okay to cry. I'm sorry for your loss."
For a moment, Fang Sun didn't respond.
Then, with a sudden burst of motion, he seized Fang Chen by the collar.
Gasps rippled through the mourners, until Fang Sun collapsed forward, dragging Fang Chen into a desperate embrace.
His voice broke, torn from the depths of his chest.
