His wheezing, more to regain air in lungs than laugh, though he wants to really, what with the glimpse he has of the women who choose to peer out into the halls with more bravery than he thinks Lan Zhan recognises, doesn't quite abate. He lets his lungs fight back for air, turning his head to the side to stare at Lan Zhan and give him his best approximation of a wounded look, before rallying to push himself up to seated, cloak damp, nothing he'll feel.

Breathing in, then out, a cracked smile and quiet eyes. Lan Zhan asking after the house, and he almost wants to laugh at that, in a helpless way. If he could spare him half that knowledge... and bless Lan Zhan, for having been so out of it he wonders about it now.

"Pleasure house," he says, breathing in deeper and finally sounding less wheezed. "Carnal pleasures, artistic pleasures, I think." He rubs at his head, then shakes his foot at Lan Zhan. "Mah, now you wrestle? Lan Zhan! So energetic!"

He smiles, lips hitched higher on one side, and shifts as if to stand again. "Don't ask me to mind matters and ignore shared concerns. Please."