Ah, a fine choice of replacement tea, how thoughtful of him. Huaisang hums- "This one said it would have been a treat rabbit"- but fine, fine. She already had her lunch. Caomeimei hops along his shoulder to twitter away in his ear, and whether or not his answering snicker is because he understands bird speak from his omen, he shan't elaborate.

Thank you for being gentle with his prints, though, although they are garbage. He accepts his tea and frowns over it - for the woodblock, not the tea itself. The aroma is quite soothing, actually; really, the finest possible choice...

"Everything in this city is a cheap disappointment, san-ge." They don't even have the right kind of paper? What is the point? His tools are in a charmingly attractive pouch hanging from his waist (it matches his outer robes, a lovely cream color today, perfect for sulking in), which he pauses to untie and place on the corner of the table for Jin Guangyao to judge, as well.

...And. There are snacks here. Such intrigue. "What are these?"