He's hit hard by those words, the pledge, and he wouldn't be able to frame in words why, precisely. Something about who is saying it, who has lost as much as he has, and his own largely still processing losses. Grief isn't something he lets himself dwell in, but it's something he's made himself face more in months on the road, away from everything else; not losing anyone else. Let alone losing anyone again.

(For him, it's A-Yuan. It's everyone he left behind, in a time where he'd finally broken in a way he didn't get back up after. For Lan Zhan—)

His eyes burn, and he twitches his fingers, reaches out, ends up taking a pinched hold of Lan Zhan's sleeve. "Thank you." With a few rapid blinks taking away the stinging in his eyes, he glances up, nodding to the statement. Tomorrow is reasonable, all things considered. "Lan Zhan, is there anything you need right now? Supply wise," he adds, flicking his gaze pointedly toward the servants quarters behind and around them all. "I can stay for a while today and help, but sometime before the skies darken, I've got to get to market and back."