Unexpected as it is, he can't help letting out a surprised gasp, the token dropping into his lap after he reaches to cover his mouth when Zhuque appears in front of him again. Sizhui stares, so taken aback by the abrupt materialization that he's initially at a loss for words.

‘At your service,’ he says, and Sizhui's throat grows abnormally tight once those fiery eyes are on him.

But the longer he gapes, the more he realizes, this is real; there's an important god-like figure, ready at his beck and call, willing to satisfy his every whim, no matter what it may be? He swallows thickly, lowers a hand to his lap, the one that had been injured earlier reaching to shyly touch the mark on his forehead, fingertips following it all the way down the bridge of his nose, though he stops there and moves to withdraw before curiosity gets the best of him.