He hums a note of agreement, finally tugging Chenqing free. His friend speaks similar enough to what he was thinking himself, and when his flute is at his lips, the music he plays is first: quieting. Slowing. Places here can be influenced by his music, just as they can be immune, and he wants a sense of which he's operating under, if he can countermelody or harmonise with what's already playing.

Once he has a sense of this working at all. His playing at first feels no response, but then the water... slows. Not stops, but slows, audibly and visibly, and he closes his eyes, listening.

When he switches to the other melody, the water slows further, even more rapidly. He keeps playing, arriving at Wen Ning's side, nodding his head in the direction of the melody he isn't responsible for, but is echoing regardless. Perhaps Wen Ning can track down the music creating device in the floating debris of the room, as Wei Wuxian continues to play and hold the waters at bay from further flooding.