Progress already made cannot be undone. But past that.

( A simple, shrugged conclusion: to stifle himself, to strangle his growth with cold, clumsy hands. To make himself so small that, upon convergence, Wei Ying and he may meet on common ground.

It does not matter. Men shape and unmake themselves to fit their arrogance, their wisdom, their affection, their vanity. What carving is so sophisticated that it cannot fit another person? Affection is the gravity pull that nudges and fits a man into the negative spaces of another.

And so, they keep walking, divesting the walls of their webbed skins as Lan Wangji passes, finally holding a hand out: )

There are worse fates. ( And a beat after: ) You carry a dagger? ( ...says the swordsman, fully armed. ) Bichen will stir any energies beneath. Better a neutral blade.