( Craftily, carefully, with impunity. By trembling the line of his shoulders once, in what lesser men might name a shrug, but only translates as a choicely measured interruption of Lan Wangji's composure.

There is something in the air here, mould and stench of mildew, like the aftermath of drunkenness in a soiled, crass tavern. Only water, he supposes. )

Your dignity and discipline will enforce it.

( A man reminded of his failures will surely seek to remedy them. Surely. )