Goodness, if he'd left his hand there, would it have eventually burned? Sizhui's tempted to reach back out and test that theory, but Zhuque reopens his eyes, causing his throat to tighten again instead. Somehow, he manages still looking like the ever-composed Lan disciple, except for maybe the flicker of lingering curiosity in his eyes.

“A little,” he admits quietly, sheepishly, unable to help the faint smile that curves his mouth as he interlocks both hands across his lap. “But that's okay since... I should probably get used to it, yes?”