If Your Friend’s Sick, They Need Treatment

In front of a dilapidated * hall, a young man in blue sits on a little stool, waving a palm-leaf fan with three holes in it. Looking at the refined, otherworldly white-robed Imperial Preceptor before him, he smiles and asks, “Friend, need treatment?”

The man gives a helpless shake of his head. “I'm afraid you can't cure what ails me.”

After several lifetimes, he and she are still bound by fate. He has let him down too many times. This time, no matter what, he cannot lose her.

This novel and its characters are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to actual people or events is purely coincidental. Do not imitate.