( Then, there is Lan Wangji, the Heavens' most ambitiously indifferent creature, balancing a wealth of dew turning gelid and crystalline as it trickles down his back in morning beads under the starting snow.

And two buckets, rusted, slow, ancient in their service of water bearing.

And his sword Bichen, magnanimously unfettered from her sheath.

And a gaggle of inn keepers, who swarm and storm him in various degrees of outrage, stupefaction, terror and resignation, shouting as Lan Wangji approaches the barred, blooded well.

'We don't take water from there today, young man! Come back!' )

Unnecessary. ( 'I'm telling you, the kitchens won't have it! )

Ease yourself. ( 'The other two, just look, the water's clear there, aren't two other wells enough? Is your belly so bottomless, you'll drink two wells out of their waters? What's next, the lake?' )

Respectfully decline. ( 'Must we be so greedy, when the gods already give?' )

The well remains for taking. ( 'These grounds already generously receive us, shouldn't we concede on this one matter?' )

You bar path. ( 'There is no path, the well is blocked.' )

Appears open. ( 'Young man! Any sight-seeing man can tell just cut through the rope that was set down before it.' )

Bring witness. ( 'You have your sword out!' )

And pails. For water. ( 'Wait, won't you stop to talk things over properly? Who raised you to ignore your elders?'

...suffice to say, Lan Wangji has a purpose, the blooded well has water, and a school of hair-pulling servants don't deter his progress.

Enjoy the parade, Anduin. )