He doesn't lose his smile, but his eyes track Wei Wuxian's hand to Chenqing and stay there, at least until he can be certain that he isn't about to make use of it yet. Already his pulse is rabbiting in his throat, as though that gesture alone confirms his worst fears. He takes another small step backward, but he does not reach for his sword. What would be the point? He will be dead, or worse, before he unsheathes it.

If Wei Wuxian is going to kill him for speaking words he does not want to hear, then he will do it whether Jin Guangyao has a sword in his hand or not. Whether he answers honestly or not.

"This one is afraid that Yiling-laozu will need to be more specific," he replies. "There are many people who have died in our world for any number of reasons, and many more who yet live. How is this one meant to know who Wei-gongzi is speaking of?" There is a flicker of both genuine confusion and fear in his expression over the direction of this line of questioning.