( That has him pulling his gaze away from the statue, momentarily distracted from the way it's coarsely shaping Zhou Zishu's pretty scowl. His gaze lingers curiously over the blindfold, the bandage, the sword, the silence stretching a beat before he remembers himself. Subconsciously, he takes a step away from the carving, to keep both it and the man in his line of sight. )

My apologies. I was distracted.

( He, as much as he likes to pretend, is not nearly quite as grand a philanthropist. For a moment he is badly tempted to leave and let the blind man find his own way, despite the weather and the ominous air, but he has been alone so far, and to see someone new and not made of stone is enough to halt his steps. )

There are statues. ( Careful, almost helpful. ) I thought - well, one of them almost looks like someone I know.