You have no more to spare.

( What little is Xie Lian's own is borrowed, as if he were a beggarly bride, forever indebted to her patrons. Xie Lian wears his generosity like fresh silks, showing them off at the marketplace: it flatters the look of him, but achieves little of substance for the longer term.

Even now, the paladins round, rally and assault, and Lan Wangji would champion their triumph, if not for the emptied, husked sense that accompanies his own lack of a contribution. )

I did not think us so mannered.

( A pause, then pointedly: ) You intend to mimic Five?

( In asking less politely. )