"I told you to come back for treatment over six months ago, but you insisted on staying outside. You'd probably be happy dying out there," Tu Kuan played another black stone, blocking Quan Jin's white stone.
A game of Gomoku, yet presented like a Go board.
Quan Jin said nothing, silently playing his moves.
As Quan Jin raised his hand to place a piece, the bell on his wrist jingled with a crisp sound, surprisingly pleasant.
Tu Kuan had long disliked that bell, but didn't dare to ask this ancestor to remove it, lest he throw a fit.
As the game continued, Tu Kuan extended his hand, and Quan Jin reached out, allowing Tu Kuan to lift his sleeve and inspect his inner arm. After looking, Tu Kuan said, "Judging by your condition, you probably have at most two or three months left."
Quan Jin responded with a murmur, pulling his sleeve back down: "So you're saying it's time to start preparing for the funeral, huh?"
Tu Kuan: "I'll think of something."
Quan Jin: "Alright."
