“Zhuque,” he repeats breathlessly, hardly anything above a whisper as the man once again swears fealty to him. But I didn't, he wants to say. Surely, this isn't right! Yet Zhuque only moves closer.

Lan Sizhui is not easily intimidated; he's faced ghosts, demons, monsters— all sorts of unspeakable atrocities and yet when Zhuque's close enough to be looming over him, he can't help feeling a little uneasy. The breath catches in his chest, there's blood whooshing in his ears and he's almost certain his heart has skipped a beat, but before he can protest further, the abrupt cry of ‘Sizhui!’ has him whipping his head in the direction of the other Lan disciple who has finally decided to join the party.

Unfortunately, it's with his sword drawn, running at a full sprint toward them both. “Jingyi, no!” And without second-guessing, he moves, twists until his back is facing Zhuque, his arms thrown out in a desperate attempt to protect him, which at least has Jingyi coming up short.