( Her... secretary, who at the very least can be trusted to display adequate calligraphy, if not competent thespian proclivities. He hesitates, lingering at the threshold between mature understanding and childish indignation, before withdrawing in his perfect peaceful world of tacit objection, hands rolled into tight-knuckled fists, his sword abandoned to the side.

The octopus, at least, seems convinced enough to share in Nami's grievance. ) Good people, them's hard to find these days. Who don't be wasting to drink or losing their tempers.

( ...ah, yes. Lan Wangji, profligate drunk, furiously and feverishly red and despairing that seared octopus would, in fact, also violate the sect's culinary precepts. )

I yet hear you. ( A mere note to both Nami and their good host, the octopus Crassus, who is once more nodding, apparently at ease disregarding Lan Wangji and presenting him the broad span of his back tentacles, while he faces Nami. Wonderful. A position of respect. )

I'll be payin' you, little lady. I'm good for my word. Only meant to pay my greetings. Say hello to a fine woman. Can't be a sin, that.

( It is a sin, that. )