( His expression doesn't change, the mild, overtly friendly smile he'd been wearing remains in place. But there is a second between Lan Wangji offering up Wen Kexing's own name and the next where a new animal appears to take its home inside of his bones. The light in his eyes goes hard and flat, and while his hands still work on the easy, repetitive movement of chopping, the grip on the knife tights just so, his voice notching just a shade cooler.

Behind him, the ghosts whisper. )

I did not know we were acquainted.

( Wen Kexing is well aware that memory can be tampered with, there are rules in the Valley after all. But Lan Wangji does not look all that old, to be someone he knew before would require great skill. And as far as he's aware, the old fart who honed it is not for sharing. It is an unpleasant feeling. )

Ah, it is hard to make friends when one is at a disadvantage. Pray then, young master, what is your name?