He is about to gather the instrument into his arms to bring it back inside when Lan Xichen extends that offer. Jin Guangyao pauses and tries to remember when it was that he last heard his friend's playing, and finds it is more difficult than it should be for someone whose memory is usually such a sharp and reliable tool. It must have been quite some time, in that case.

"I would like that," he says softly, simply, and steps off to the side with a gesture at his abandoned chair so that Lan Xichen can seat himself. (He notes, too, the strange blue cast to his friend's ears, but this alarms him far less than it would have if he hadn't already gained at least some passing awareness with what Trench has done to their blood.)