Act II of this drama continues unfolding to a sedate, mildew-accruing pace: taps and knocks and the dead growling in synchrony with Lan Wangji's invitation for their dear passengers to kindly, so kindly consider — please and thank you, the muttering of the undead — evacuation.

It strikes him, spied between the sugary threads of his distraction and hesitations, to turn on the man Shen Qingqiu, and bless his shoulder with his sheathed blade. A call, sweet and dulled as can be, to belated attention.

"Be at ease." Tension vibrates off him darker steeped than the frenzy of the travellers who burst free of their wagon quarters. Be at ease, trust in Wangji's guidance.