An escort. ( But he concedes with a nod, steering them down winding paths, to where the knots and folds of the streets unravel. Whispering Houses, underground clans. It should seem like a desperate, intricate effort to locate so many nests of crime, except for how Hatthevar appears overfilled with them.

Beitang Moran, less than Wei Ying, does not suit such an endeavour. He is no man for... the disquiet and displeasures of life. ) That face should not be trusted with my dignity.

( Or his modesty, or his reputation. Can it be, this is Lan Wangji... nearly playful? The audacity of it all, striking. )