( ...of course. Even in this, he lacks the ability to protect, to fend, to honour. His brother, the better man, is at once reduced to accepting this dubious turn of events towards crass poverty, and better equipped to weather it through.

Lan Wangji's head bows, teeth gritted. Aching. He speaks nothing, not a word of protest, not another of harm.

Until, finally: ) Your wish, my command.